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tyudearyous · 3 months ago

Text

pride and prejudice - j.yh

pairing : jeong yunho x (f) reader

very much inspired by pride and prejudice with some plot changes

word count : 5.8k

genre : fluff, angst

author's note : THIS IS ALL FOR MY MUTUAL WHO PROPOSED THE IDEA OF YUNHO BEING LIKE DARCY. THIS IS FOR YOU!

masterlist

...

living as a fallen royal has not served you any happiness. in fact, it has only brought sorrows after sorrows, one you were overwhelmed with. but none of those sorrows would ever be lifted off you, not until you die, you suppose. why is that? because you were the eldest daughter out of the five, the only anchor in your already broken family. the only sane person between your reputation crazed parents.

“mother!” you grabbed your mother’s arms to make her face you. disgust filled your face and you couldn’t even process what just happened.

it was three days after your sister’s seventeenth birthday, she was the second born and she was three years younger than you. however, your parents had the audacity to go and basically wed her off to a nobleman in efforts to dignify the family’s name.

“mother! she’s just seventeen. what are you thinking!?” you screamed slightly making everyone in the house notice. “you. have no rights to say anything towards me young lady.” your mother pointed to you with seething anger on her face. her behavior only baffled you even further. “must you go through these lengths? she is just seventeen mother! she still has her lif-” “exactly. she is seventeen, a marriable age. unlike you, twenty yet unwed. it is embarrassing enough for me to have an unwed daughter like you” you were speechless. there was no way your mother just said that in front of you and left. just as you were about to catch up to her, you were held back by your sister.

“angela, we can talk after this okay” you try to make her let go of your arm but she was persistent. “sister, i am fine with this” her eyes gazed straight at you with her desperately trying to hold you. “no, you still have so much to see and learn. it is not your duty to marry, i will find a way for you alright?” you grazed her cheeks slightly to reassure her. “no, i wish for this. it is the only way our family can be stable again. i am fine with this sacrifice. no, i even heard that he is a good guy, so fret not my sister. fret not, alright?” she leans onto your embrace making you hug her. this whole ordeal is breaking your heart. was it your fault? why was the universe so cruel?

…

“my daughter angela, a carriage will come over to pick you up today at noon and i want you to go with her as well, y/n” your father said on the dining table. your appetite immediately gone and your face soured. “listen, y/n. i am not pressuring you what so ever. however, you are twenty this year darling. soon you would be past the marriable age and it would not be good for you” your father held your hands but none of his words felt like a concern for you, instead it all just feels like salt to an injury. “alright, i will prepare myself then” you immediately stood up from the dining table to go to your room.

“oh? have you finished getting ready?” you asked your sister who was sitting on her bed next to yours. “yep, you are coming with me right?” she asked you in which you nodded. she was wearing her favorite pink gown adorned decorations that made her beauty unmatchable. you had to admit, out of the five sisters she was the prettiest. it was as if a white rose suddenly appeared in a garden of red roses, that was how she was.

“you look great, i’m sure he would fall in love with you as soon as he saw you” you smiled to her widely before getting ready yourself. you opted to wear a rather normal gown in the shade of jade. you didn’t want to overdress your sister, nor did you want attention on you.

love has always been a difficult topic for you. you didn’t want to sell out your future to a man in the name of marriage and also, woman generally wasn’t given any freedom post marriage. you had to either be an obedient doll for your husband or you’d be divorced and thrown away in a second. it was either in between and that is why, love scared you.

but either way, it was your mission to at least be a good companion for your sister. to cover up all the ugly side behind her and your family, to be a good guardian for her.

soon, the carriage bell rang. notifying its’ presence and urging you both to go inside. your sister excitedly runs down the house and bid goodbyes to your parents who were waiting out the door.

“take care of her okay?” your father bid goodbyes to you by squeezing your hands while your mother only looked at you. “i will, goodbye” and with that, the two of you were in the carriage off to the Northwestern Palace where her future husband is waiting for her.

“sister?” your sister called out to you, breaking you out of your daze. “yes, my angel?” you scurried to sit next to her and held her hands. “i am scared” your sister starts to tear up. “darling, it’ll be alright. it’ll be alright.” you brought her in to hug and comfort her. just why, why would an innocent soul like her have to go through all this.

…

“ladies, we have arrived at the Northwestern Palace” the coachman knocks on the carriage door before swiftly opening it, making a way for you and your sister to exit the carriage. the whole ride was pretty serene. nothing much happened, except for the fact that your sister felt worried about the whole meeting. it was inevitable, love is scary. however she immediately recollected herself and is back to the usual happy go lucky sister you have.

after a small walk, a luxurious white pavilion is visible where two (seemingly) esteemed gentleman were sitting. the two then stood up noticing your presence before bowing to greet the two of you. you also curtsied to greet them together with your sister before walking even closer to the pavilion.

“greetings, i am y/n from the house of brigitte and this is s/n. very delighted to make your acquaintance” you and your sister curtsied to greet the two men in front of you. “oh yes, i am san from the house of choi and this is my companion, yunho from the house of jeong. thrilled to make acquaintance with you both as well.” he greeted you cheerfully before ushering you to take a seat on the table in the pavilion.

for a second, you felt small. this whole place, the pavilion, the table, their presence, all felt overwhelming. if it weren’t for your sister who was chatting delightfully with san, you think you’d suffocate from stress.

while san and your sister chatted well together, you decided to talk to yunho for a little bit. “um, so how did you get acquainted with mr. choi?” you ask while taking a sip of your tea. “i’m sorry but is that your business?” he responded coldly. you were frozen for a second, unable to react. “oh, i apologize, my curiosity got the better off me” you laughed it off before taking another sip. it was clear enough, this guy in front of you has zero interest in forming acquaintances with you. it was fine, as long as your sister was happy it was fine. soon the afternoon went by a flash. it was an enjoyable experience for your sister, it was all that matters.

…

“how was it?” your vivacious mother asked your sister once you arrived back home. “it was great, mother. he was a gentleman, anything i could ask for” she replied, making your parents exhale a big sigh of relief. they seemed so happy, and you were too but there was a hint of bittersweetness in your heart. after all, you were the disappointment for them and did you even have the right to be happy? but you digress. “i will be off to my room now, if you need anything just call me” and with that you went upstairs to your room.

“sister!” your youngest sister came up to you. “hi sweetheart, what’s wrong?” you crouched down to ruffle her hair slightly. “is it true? sister angela is getting married?” she asked you and you nodded. “yes, angela has met her prince charming you know?” you smiled to her. “but what about you? have you not met him?” you froze slightly before shaking your head. “it’s late already, let me tuck you into bed okay sweetheart?” you ushered her to go back to her room to rest up. you just didn’t want to answer much because it’s all too conflicting for you. it’s all too much for you. even so, you did wish to meet your prince charming, you wished but it was just a mere wish. a mere wish that has very low chances of getting granted.

…

“y/n! prepare the guest room please!” your mother called out to you in the middle of the morning. you were confused, why would they need the guest room ready, for who? and why is she asking that of you this early? “mother, who is coming?” you asked as you went down the stairs. “it is your father’s colleague. he is coming over with his son” she explained to you. “and who exactly?” you asked while you start to dust off the room. “the house of park” oh, it was seonghwa. he was once deeply infatuated with your sister, so obviously you knew him. he wasn’t a bad guy, per se. however, you just don’t feel good about him sometimes.

as you were cleaning, the day started to go by and it was now afternoon when the esteemed guests came by. your parents greeted them with extreme joy and they also greeted everyone back. you led them to the guest room where your parents and them chatted off. you stayed at the door, tending to their drinks and snacks when seonghwa snuck up on you.

“um, so, where’s angela?” he asked. “oh, she’s going to come down soon” you replied before he went back to his seat. sure enough, your sister soon came down and it was as if seonghwa just saw an angel. his eyes immediately lit up and a big smile adorned his face.

“so, mr and mrs brigitte. the purpose of our visit today is actually because we want-” “no father, i will say it myself” seonghwa cut his father off before clearing his throat. “miss angela brigitte, i have taken a great liking towards you ever since the first day we met. will you do me the honor of being my wife?” seonghwa knelt down in front of angela and took her hands to kiss it slightly.

“i must apologize” angela took her hands off seonghwa’s. “i am already engaged to mr. san from the house of choi” and the entire room fell into a tense mood. seonghwa quickly reassured angela that it was alright and your parents ushered you and angela out of the room to not make the room even more tense. thus, you brought angela back to your shared room where she cried.

“i feel like a horrendous person. i feel bad” angela cried out to your shoulder. “shush baby, it’s alright. i am sure he would understand alright” you comforted angela throughout the night but unbeknownst to you, the park family and yours agreed on an alternative. an alternative you wouldn’t even want.

…

somehow seonghwa kept going to your house, despite getting rejected by angela. you were confused on why he was doing all this. on an instance even, he brought you to meet one of his longtime friends, hongjoong from the house of kim. it was all confusing but creating relations wasn’t something you were against.

“i heard you are acquaintances with san from the house of choi?” hongjoong asked. “yes, he is about to be wedded to my sister after all” you replied with a smile. “then, may i assume you are also acquainted with jeong yunho?” your eyes shot up and you froze slightly. “not exactly, why?” you asked. “i should warn you about him. he is not a good man. the kim family has been the greatest supporter the jeong family could ever ask but what did that guy do? deny us from our rights” hongjoong took a sip of his tea angrily. “hongjoong, let’s not-” “no seonghwa! i am merely stating facts. i had to work like a dog to save my family from bankruptcy when we were exiled” hongjoong explained further. “why were you exiled?” you asked. “because we didn’t have one vision thats all. either way, be careful of him”

you weren’t the type to trust someone immediately. after all you were a big skeptic, however because seonghwa trusts hongjoong so much, you just couldn’t help but feel a slight empathy. how could someone pay literal dust to someone who has been loyal, and even if there were differences of views, shouldn’t it be talked over? you didn’t want to involve yourself though so you just decided to stay neutral. one thing is for sure, jeong yunho did not seem like a good guy at all.

…

it was the night of the ball in the Northwestern Palace and sure enough, you had to dance with the man himself, jeong yunho. you didn’t hate him but that did not mean you liked him. he has been nothing but rude to you ever since the first meet. however, you cannot deny. he is a great dancer.

“i am surprised you are good at this” you said in attempt for a small talk. “it is merely the basics my lady” he said as he let you go to twirl and held you by your waist again. “sure, basics” and you both danced until the music ends. what you didn’t expect was for him to initiate a small talk.

“would you like to take some time in the garden?” yunho asked as he took a sip from the glass of champagne he was holding. “sure” and with that the two of you went down to go to the garden. this did not go unnoticed by san and angela. “look, your sister” san pointed towards your direction to your sister. “let them be, let’s just hope for the best” she laughed before resuming to their own conversation.

“i did not strike you as someone who would ask a lady” you joked. “i am merely doing this as an apology for last time” yunho waited in front of the stairs, offering his hand for you to take while you go down the stairs. “thank you” you said before he led you to the garden of the palace.

“so, what did you want to talk about?” you asked him as you took a seat on bench nearby. “i was wondering on a few things actually” he sat next to you.

“how are you alright with your sister overstepping you?”

“in marriage?”

“yes”

you sighed and stayed quiet for a moment. of course people would ask that. of course it would be a topic in your conversation. after all, people deemed it to be rude but you couldn’t care less.

“perhaps i just do not care? all i ever wanted was happiness for my sisters and it is not her fault for finding love before me. and if you ask me how did it came to this, i also don’t know. perhaps it’s just the universe’s will? either way, i don’t have a problem with that”

“i have heard that you rejected several marriage offers”

“yes, just one though to be exact. i do not find myself ready when i got that offer. i was still sixteen after all. now that i am twenty, i couldn’t thank my sixteen year old self more than anything”

“and why is that?”

“because i got to experience life. if i got married, i wouldn’t be able to do that”

“how? you still have your life even after you marry? it is not the end of the world”

“to you yes, to me no. i would have to be entangled with housework, wifely duties, and when i have a child as well, i can’t do anything freely. i am not saying i don’t want to get married but i still find it to be not something i highly desire.”

“let’s say, someone proposes to you today. will you accept it?”

“i do not know. if i could see myself loving that person, perhaps i would but if i couldn’t i think i would reject it once again”

yunho nodded understandingly. turns out, he wasn’t too bad. he wasn’t as bad as you thought he was. he was a good listener and also a very logical person. the conversation actually went well because he was actually a good conversationist. perhaps this person wasn’t that bad but you digress.

…

it was as if the universe was playing a joke to you, seonghwa decided to propose to you in exchange for not getting angela. of course you rejected it. how could you be used a replacement? it was a disgraceful move on its own. you were even more flabbergasted when you knew it was your parent’s idea. what the actual hell are they thinking?

“do you perhaps not possess a brain to think?” you angrily opened the door to their bedroom

“honey, what is this behavior!” your mother shouted

“what is this behavior? you have the audacity to ask me that? am i an easy thing to use as a replacement for my sister? are you planning to sell me out?”

“y/n please calm down”

“y/n! we are doing this for your greater good. what future lies beyond you if you refuse him. we are doing this because we love you. we are doing this because we wish for what's good for you”

"but that is not how you do it!" you screamed into the room

you couldn’t even talk anymore. you felt so incredibly betrayed. how could they treat you like this? how could they treat you this horrible? you knew they were slightly insane after they lost their estate to debt but this was beyond your limit. your entire dignity crushed into pieces, ground up to the floor and thrown away six feet under the ground. it was shit, completely shit.

“my daughter, can we talk?” your father came over to the dining room where you were crying profusely. “what more do you want? do you not understand how that made me look? i look like an easy woman, father. i look like an easy shit to trampled upon” he shushed you before bringing you to a hug to comfort you. he didn’t say anything, perhaps too guilty to even say anything. at least he knows his mistake.

…

it has been several months since everything happened. you decided to do things like how you are used to. forgive and move on. seonghwa even got married already because one of your friend was scared she’d become a spinster. you apologized to seonghwa and seonghwa thankfully was a good man. he understood your rejection and reaction, he understood everything.

however, angela’s relationship with san was something else. choi san was a busy man and it was a given he wouldn’t have much time. but if he was determined, he could at least spare just a few minutes with angela but that never happened. so when his party left for a neighboring country, you told angela to go to your relative’s house since they live in that neigboring country and she did.

now, with nothing to do on hand, you decided to visit seonghwa and your friend. after all, there was nothing wrong with a small catch up session between friends. it was quite a long walk but not one you’d complain about and when you arrived, it was a small yet comfortable bungalow they are living in. very suited to seonghwa’s love for simplicity.

they invited you for dinner and you chatted away quite happily until seonghwa brought up something he heard a few days ago during a party.

“i do not know if this is for sure or not but i heard yunho has been trying to separate san and your sister because your family is “unsuitable” for the chois”

“what?” you were confused.

“who said that?”

“colonel song, a close friend of his”

oh. that was the nail to the coffin you suppose.

…

after hearing what seonghwa said, you immediately took the train to go to the neighboring country to meet your sister. you went there not to meet your sister, but to meet jeong yunho instead. once you arrived, you immediately went to the jeong estate. it was raining but you couldn’t care less. but as you were on your way, you spotted him near his estate.

“miss y/n, it has been a while. i have been looking for you”

“good you’re here. wait, pardon?”

“i have been searching for you ever since i knew of angela’s presence here in this country”

“why? for what exactly?”

“i have thought about this day and night.”

yunho cleared his throat before continuing.

“in vain i have struggled, and it just will never do. my feelings have gotten to my better judgement. allow me to tell you how ardently i admire you”

“i don’t understand”

“i love you. will you please do me the honor to be mine?”

“no. i cannot”

you were beyond confused. this man separated your sister, deeming your family unfit for his standards and besides the garden conversation, he never paid any attention towards you. so what is this sudden confession.

“didn’t you say my family is unsuitable? so why are you acting like this?”

“i cannot care less. i cannot care less about statuses right now”

“so why did you separate angela and san?”

“didn’t miss angela not want it? she was being very passive and i did not want san to get heartbroken any further”

“you have no rights to do that! and no. angela loved him. the reason why she is even here is because of choi san. you have no rights to do that, mr. jeong”

“i apologize”

“is that all you could think of?’

“what more do you ask from me?”

“i don’t know. i just cannot accept it. you have always acted so cold towards me and now suddenly you’re professing your love towards me? mr. jeong, respectfully, that is not the way to get a woman’s heart. in fact that is a way to drive a woman away”

“for ever since i was born, i was raised to be indifferent. i have always been indifferent but this. this is the first time where i let all my logics out the window. this is the first time i had ever let my feelings control me, my lady. i am not asking for much.”

“right, you are an indifferent individual. then care to explain your decisions regarding the kim family?”

“what sort of decisions?”

“i don’t know, you were the one making it. why would you do that to a family that has been nothing but loyal to you, mr. jeong?”

“i am afraid you do not know anything, miss brigitte”

“oh? so i don’t know enough do i?”

“the kim family embezzled the jeongs. do you know that?”

“what?”

“miss, i did not take you for someone who blatantly believes lies. however, i do hope you would think twice before believing someone and i believe that this proposal has not come to a good ending thus i will leave now. i have gotten a carriage ready for you. my feelings have not changed at all, however i think that you might need some time, so i am granting you that time”

oh, you did a big mistake didn’t you?

…

“y/n, a letter has come for you!” your sister screamed. “angela it’s 9 PM, who would even-” you recognized that seal. that seal is not from a mere family, it was the seal of the jeongs. “when did this arrive?” you asked angela after taking the letter from her hands. “a guard sent it just now, is it from the-” “i will be in my room, alright?” you scurried to go inside of your room and quickly took your letter knife to open the letter.

to miss y/n of house brigitte i am writing,

i apologize for the disturbance as it is very late right now. however, my heart is at unrest.

i do not know where or who told you regarding what happened to the kim family however, i do hope that you would trust me more than them.

the kim family followed the jeong from the start, however the last generation of the kims has been nothing but a problem for the jeongs.

they have embezzled us out of our own mines, land, field, and everything.

as the current head of the family, i had to do what was necessary and that is to protect my own family. it was not an easy decision but ultimately, i had to exile them.

they have been getting support from the parks now, which i am grateful for.

i do hope you will stop seeing me as a horrible man, for i am serious about my feelings for you, lady brigitte.

i am sorry for the lengthy disturbance but i hope this clears out the misunderstanding between us.

good night, may you have sweet dreams.

signed, jeong yunho

…

it has been two weeks since you and your sister went to your nephew’s house and it is now time for you both to set home. this time though, your relatives are the one visiting your country. however what you didn’t expect is for you to run into yunho out in the wild.

“what are you doing here?” you asked, confused. “i was just having my stroll, greetings i am yunho from the house of jeong” he introduced himself to your relatives. “ah yes, the esteemed jeongs. we are the gardleys from the south” your uncle and aunt bowed to greet yunho which he returned in another bow. somehow, you and your party ended up in the Westnostern Palace which is a closed off territory of the jeongs. yunho offered a brunch for you and your relatives, this was out of nowhere.

it was truly a brunch for the royals. the meals served were meals only high status-ed families would eat. you were grateful but all of this felt like it came out of nowhere. perhaps this was his way of trying to win your heart and you couldn’t help but smile at it. while your relatives and yunho were chatting away, you excused yourself to go to the washroom when in reality, you wanted to take a stroll around the palace. that was when an elderly lady suddenly came up to you and struck a chat with you.

“oh my, you must be the miss brigitte everyone here is talking about!”

“pardon?”

“oh silly old me, i am margareth”

“oh, yes. i am y/n from the house of brigitte. it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance”

“yes, our little yunho has been talking about you” she said while laughing slightly. you were frozen, what is that even supposed to mean?

“talking about me?”

“oh yes, he has been going around the estate asking for advices on you know” she nudges your shoulders slightly. you didn’t know how to reply so you just laughed along.

“either way, i am glad” you stayed quiet, to listen to her.

“i am glad he has finally found love. he has been keeping his heart at such guard to the point even i, as his former caretaker, was very worried.” she continued before she held your hands gently.

“child, i know love might be scary for you but trust me. yunho is a good person, he is just a little rough at first. child, he can bring you the happiness you’ve desired since forever. i hope you can be happy with him” words could not leave your mouth, you only stared at her while she smiled at you.

“granny margareth!” you snapped out of your daze after hearing yunho’s voice.

“oh-ho, that is my cue to go now. i wish you the best of luck, child!” she said before leaving, giving you time with yunho.

he soon joined you to gaze upon the garden of the palace and stood next to you. yunho cleared his throat, making you gaze at him.

“have you finished chatting with my relatives?” you opened the conversation.

“ah yes, they were very enthusiastic people. i had a great time” his sudden soft demeanor makes you want to laugh honestly. it wasn’t a bad thing, just very out of character for him.

“i see” you replied but you couldn’t hold back your giggles

“pardon?”

“oh, no. it’s just funny to me”

“what’s funny?”

“you, right now.”

“right, i must look like a lovesick fool”

yunho admitting it himself just feels way too funny for you, causing you to go on a fit of laughter. he only stared at you, with a slight smile. taking in how he made you laugh, how your smile completely lit up his whole world. oh, he was so in love.

“lovesick fool, oh dear. i’m sorry” you try to regain your composure.

“no it’s alright, i like watching you smile” he replied. you only raised your eyebrows before one of his guard men called out to him, informing him that your relatives had finished touring the palace with his butler.

“let’s go back shall we?” he offered his hand to guide you, in which you accepted this time.

yunho isn’t as bad as you thought.

…

as if the universe is finally giving you a break, san came by the brigitte’s estate to propose to angela. you also soon found that yunho helped san get the permission of the choi family. he persuaded them to let him marry angela despite your family being inferior compared to the chois. yunho was such an enigma to you. however not one you hated, in fact one you’d love to figure out. his entire demeanor and how it changed almost in one night. how he suddenly became this soft and kind individual despite his reputations being the absolute opposite of that.

thus when he visited your estate, you couldn’t help but welcome him with open arms for what he has done for your sister.

“greetings, um” yunho stuttered slightly. he was visibly nervous and he didn’t know how to properly act this time. you couldn’t help but smile endearingly at him.

“greetings, mr. jeong. how can i possibly help you?”

“may i invite you to go on a walk with me, perhaps?”

“sure.”

…

yunho never struck you as a big romanticist. however, all of his actions recently show otherwise. this guy was a big romanticist. he is definitely a firm believer of soulmates and it is adorable. beyond the cold expression he wears, the fancy suits and coats that make him unapproachable, he is just a plain guy who loves hard.

you both strolled around the Northwestern Palace, the place you first met each other. though the first encounter was rather lukewarm, your current relationship was much better than that. when you reached at the end of the palace’s park, a glistening lake could be seen. the atmosphere was incredibly soothing and heartwarming. seeing swans nurturing each other, you couldn’t help but smile while gazing at the scenery.

“so, um. miss y/n” yunho cleared his throat.

“yes?”

“i would like to take upon this chance, to… try once again” oh, so that was what he was after.

“miss y/n of house brigitte. i, jeong yunho, have simply fallen for you. i cannot contain these feelings within me anymore. i apologize if i have ever made your heart hurt from before, however i can promise you one thing. i will devote myself to keeping that smile on your face. i will make sure your days ahead are nothing short of happiness. miss y/n, would you do me the favor of letting myself become yours?” he knelt down in front of you with a small box on his hands. it was a ring, he was proposing you. you have been in this situation several times, but none have made you this glad to receive one.

“yes, i would” you replied. this time, it was different. perhaps it was yunho’s magic finally working on you, but you couldn’t be more glad that it was him.

he quickly smiled and slipped the ring into your finger then he lifted you up in an embrace. “hey!” you laughed. “thank you” yunho gazed straight at you before pulling you in for a kiss, your first kiss.

finally, love found you.

…

“y/n, are you serious about this?” your father asked you. he had received a formal letter from the jeongs, inquiring him about their plans to officially propose you.

“yes father, look” you showed off your ring finger, now adorned with a ring that had a small aquamarine gem.

“did you not dislike him before?” your father asked you once again. he was well aware about how you felt regarding yunho since the first.

“yes but those feelings have changed. father, are you questioning my decisions now?” you replied with a grin on your face. this made your father give up and accepted the situation.

“i am glad you finally found the one” your father got up from his seat to hug you and you hugged him back.

…

“From the very beginning— from the first moment, I may almost say— of my acquaintance with you, your manners, impressing me with the fullest belief of your arrogance, your conceit, and your selfish disdain of the feelings of others, were such as to form the groundwork of disapprobation on which succeeding events have built so immovable a dislike; and I had not known you a month before I felt that you were the last man in the world whom I could ever be prevailed on to marry.”

―

Jane Austen,

Pride and Prejudice

…

the end.

#yunho #yunho fic #yunho x reader #ateez #ateez fic #ateez x reader #jeong yunho #tyudearwrites

135 notes · View notes

writing-funsies · 2 years ago

Text

OP characters with artist s/o P.2

p.1 | p.2 | p.3 | p.4 | p.5 | p.6

pairings: Marco x reader, Ace x reader, Thatch x reader

warnings: none

Marco

he finds your talent interesting

I feel like this man could draw a straight line no problem

or even a perfect circle

but he wouldn't know how to make those things into a picture

so seeing the way you put all of the pieces together

is always so satisfying to watch

he likes listening to your pencil scratch against the paper while he works

you spend a lot of time sketching him hunched over his desk with piles upon piles of paperwork stacked above him

maybe you exaggerated your art a bit

but it's basically the same as real life

he doesn't find it as funny when you mindlessly draw him as a pineapple

he finds it even less funny when some of his crewmates get ahold of those sketches

politely asks you to not draw him like that

though his smile is a little strained

and threatening

best to keep the hyperrealistic Marco the pineapple drawing a secret

you doodle on his paperwork sometimes

which Pops finds amusing

but Marco does not

but he's not going to tell you that

if people wanted crisp forms

they shouldn't have given all of them to Marco

whenever the two of you go on dates

he plans for you to get some sketch time in

so he always takes you to the prettiest spot on whatever island you've stopped at

though he always says that you're the prettiest thing he's ever seen

you might do a small self-portrait to give him for his birthday

just so he can always have you and your art with him

Ace

first things first, he begs you to design a tattoo for him

he's seen your skills

and he loves your art style

so if you really love him

you'll do it

and you do draw one

it could be the worst thing in the world

and this man would still get it tattooed on him

he has a bad habit of accidentally burning your pictures

fire and paper don't really get along

so you have to use specially treated canvasses or sketchbooks

or you might work with clay

if you create sculptures

Ace would happily bake them for you

he'd probably have to

Thatch thinks your skills are cool and all

but he really doesn't want to take the chance of poisoning the whole crew

Ace loves to pose for you

he just has to pick a pose he can fall asleep in

like Luffy, he does get a little stir crazy

he needs to move around so he doesn't get too hyper

but he'll sit by your side for hours on end

just to watch you work

he makes sure you take breaks and drink some water

it's not good to stare at one thing for days at a time

and you need to stay hydrated

these breaks always allow you to gain some new insight for your piece

so if you were getting frustrated because you weren't sure what your art needed

the break gives you time to refresh and look at the whole composition with new eyes

Thatch

he wants you to draw him

all

the

time

you took it upon yourself to make his hair bigger each time you do

but only slightly

so it wasn't that noticeable until you were like 20 sketches in

he loves when you sit with him in the kitchen while working

as long as you're not in the way

he doesn't want to ruin those pretty little pictures of yours

Thatch would be the type of person to hang your art everywhere

it doesn't matter if you think it deserves to be on the wall or not

he'll hang them in his room

on the kitchen walls

on the fridge

in the showers

in the hallways

on Pop's chair

okay, maybe not that last one

but I could see a type of challenge between him and the others to put your art there

he loves your art

he loves everything you make

he also loves to make the cringiest puns about it as well

by any sketch of the imagination

good things come to those hue wait

beige magnet

ready pen you are

Thatch adores how focused you get sometimes

but you still need to eat

so he'll make you your favorite food

and drag you away to get some fresh air

how are you supposed to keep drawing amazing things if you never take a break?

he's your biggest supporter after all

#one piece headcanons #one piece #one piece x y/n #one piece imagines #one piece x reader #whitebeard pirates #marco x reader #marco x y/n #marco the phoenix #marco the pineapple #ace x reader #ace x y/n #portgas d ace #fire fist ace #thatch x reader #thatch x y/n #thatch #thatch one piece

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hansensgirl · 3 years ago

Text

put me in a movie.

summary. | He knows you can’t make it on your own, so he’ll put you in his movie.

warnings. | Dubcon (reader doesn’t know what he’s doing but consents to it), smut, drinking, age gap (reader is legal), virginity loss, choking, spanking, dirty talk, degradation, corruption kink, innocence kink, cream pie kink, penetration, teasing, praise, filming, voyeurism, porn (the industry), fluff, yearning, Daddy kink, humiliation, overstimulation, dumbification kink, and more. SMUT, 18+ MINORS DNI.

word count. | 6.5k.

pairing. | Grey!Pornstar!Helmut Zemo x Innocent!Reader.

a/n. | please enjoy and don’t forget to reblog! if you take ANY inspiration from my fics (and i’ll know, trust me) and you don’t give credit, you will be blocked and i’ll let others know. inspired by wet, written by the talented @thewritingdoll! do not translate or repost my fics at all.

You don’t like the heat, but you love the summer. The way the days are seldom cold and cloudy, with that occasional breeze that your skin gracefully soaks up in the same way your beach towel soaks up the water on your bathing suit. Popsicles of different flavours dripping down your skin and onto the hot sidewalk. The sticky residue makes you cringe, and you’d use the damp side of your towel to wipe it away. It would work for a few seconds, maybe even a minute or two, before the feeling returns.

You hate the heat, but you love to see him. Those swim trunks of his sticking to his wet skin. They’re a blue colour that seems easy to describe at first glance, but you’ll soon realize just how many shades of navy blue there are, and suddenly you don't even know what colour they are. Maybe it’s the colour of the jeans the cameramen wear, or perhaps it’s the colour of the night sky at around six in the evening during the summertime.

They lug heavy equipment, and you just wonder if they’re filming a movie. If your friends and family members got word, they’d probably lose their minds before begging you to get them a part. Vying for fame runs through the family tree branches, and even you would want a small part in it as well. You give them empty promises, forgetting their words after a few minutes until the following text message or phone call.

You don’t spend much time at the beach anymore. Heck, you haven’t been there since June. Your friends have left with their boyfriends and girlfriends on a trip to Bali, and all you have are your family members to keep you company. Your white fence, magazine and lawn chair are all you know of now. You spend your days outdoors, knowing each one will be filled with the same things. The sunlight, bees buzzing, and seagulls having unwarranted ferociousness.

Your parents spend their days at work, and you stay home to hold your small fort down. You don’t water the grass or touch the garden because your father does it better than anyone. You don’t touch the paint meant for the walls or the furniture boxes that are strewn across the floors because your mother knows where to put them and how to paint. You just relax, and you don’t mind it at all.

That was until you saw him.

Curiosity is your closest friend other than the blue raspberry flavoured popsicles that take up more space in your freezer than anything else. So when the empty house next door suddenly filled up with around half a dozen people, you just couldn’t help but wonder what they were doing. So you peer over the fence, standing on the small two-step ladder that your dad stole from his previous job. Women and a few men are laughing, dressed down in both swimsuits and t-shirts. Their bodies are lovely, the pinnacle of beauty that you sometimes envy. Other times, you’d feel as though you’re the prettiest girl in the world, and that’s not far from the truth. They’ve got different brands of alcohol in their hands, White Claw cans littered on the ground, and you cringe at the mess.

They must be mentally younger than you’ll ever be again because no person older than you can act like this. Heavy, black cameras are resting nearby briefcases, and you hope to god that nothing illegal is going on. The last thing you need is the police questioning you at 1 in the morning. Some of the men ogle at the younger ladies, and they bask in the attention. You watch as their eyes rake up and down their shiny, sweaty bodies.

“Oh, please, the least you all can do is wait for me before you start the party,” a man snickers, stepping out of the house. You look over to him, and your breath is taken away. Water drips down his face, cascading down to his neck and onto his slightly hairy chest—a navy bluish-purple robe and those blue swim shorts that peek through underneath the cloth. The colour of the fabric goes oh so well with the blue of his eyes. They all laugh until they’re sighing and already cracking open another bottle of beer.

You admire him from afar, and you can’t help but be mesmerized by the way he moves: such grace, such elusiveness. The glass in his hand isn’t cheap beer or tequila; it’s whiskey that looks rich as fuck, and he swigs it back like it’s water. You remember the first time your father and mother brought whiskey home from the local liquor store. Your father didn’t enjoy it, and neither did your mother. It sat in a random cupboard until a year ago when your mother decided to throw it out.

He lets out an exhale as the amber liquid flows down his throat, and you watch in awe as he handles the burn like a champion. God, you can’t even handle beer if you try hard enough. He gently places the glass onto the table, far away from the men’s feet, as he knows that they can be quite clumsy. There must be a proper name for all feelings; you believe. Like that feeling when it dawns on you that you’ll never experience something like this ever again.

Or maybe the feeling that Helmut has right now. Not the excitement of finishing this film, and not the tiredness that is a result of working too hard. No, the feeling that he knows you’re watching him from over the fence. He sans his hand towards you, and you quickly duck down, letting out a whimper. You nearly fall from the small ladder, but it wouldn’t be so graceful if it did happen. “What’s wrong, Baron?” one of his co-stars teasingly asks.

“Nothing... Must’ve been the whiskey…”

You don’t hate the summer; you just don’t like the boredom. Even relaxation is something you can tire of, believe it or not. You’ve got nothing to do. Your friends are still out of town, and your parents are at work. You’ve cleaned the house not once, not twice, but three times. Your closet is as clean as it’ll ever be, and the pantry is now organized by most used to least used. The plants have been properly watered, even though it wasn’t necessary since the forecast said there’d be light rain.

You love the rain, especially during the summertime. The sky makes the surrounding world have an almost orange tone to it. The after smell––an earthy, oceanic scent that is so unique––is something you’ll forever look forward to. You’re excited for the day it’ll rain, but even meteorologists tend to be wrong, and Mother Nature has a thing for keeping her children on their toes. It’s one of the many reasons why you love her. So with your little red dress on, you spin around in the backyard.

You’re sensible. You know what creepy crawlers lie underneath the dirt, between the fluffy grass. So instead of being barefoot (just like in those Sofia Loren movies) and playing around, you grab that little latter once again. You’ve scrubbed the grooves and cleaned them of their plant stains––sloppily, of course. Your oversized slippers belong to your dad, and they struggle to stay on your feet, but it doesn’t matter.

You’re not going to be moving around much, anyway. You move the latter closer to where you last saw the group of men and women. You truly hope you don’t get caught and get into any trouble; the last thing you want is your parents scolding you and embarrassing you. You step up on the ladder carefully, grasping onto the wooden fence for support. The surface is hot to the touch, and you really want to let go, but you really shouldn’t. You whisper affirmations along the lines of ‘I won’t fall…’ over and over again, under your breath.

And you hope to God they work.

Admittedly, you also hope he’s wearing those blue swim shorts of his again. The look (and he) resides in your heart, amongst other tubes and canals that have learned to make room for friends, family and passions. But he’s not a friend, he’s not family, and he’s most certainly not a passion. ...He’s something else, that’s for sure. An enigma, really. He reminds you of that feeling––the one that has a name, temptation. Someone tells you not to do something you weren’t going to do in the first place, and now you want to do it.

Except the case is different. You shouldn’t be perving on strangers like this––sneaking up on them, spying on them––all because you just can’t help it. Your mind tells you to stop, but it’s just giving you all the more reason to continue doing it. So, until you nearly get caught one more time, you’ll continue to watch him. Desperate to figure out who he is and what he’s doing.

The cameras are no longer on the ground; a smart decision, given that there’s a pool that takes up more space than anything. The blue water of pools has always fooled you. You grew up believing that it was the true colour of water, not even knowing that it was, in fact, the tiles and not the water. There’s no mess there either, clean and tidy. Maybe professionally done, because the concrete has but not one dark spot or crease where grass grows out of it.

Laid perfectly, you know your mother and father would admire it for a few minutes. You squint your eyes and gaze at the glass sliding door. Inside is him. You let out one of those dreamy, love-filled sighs that only main characters do in romance movies. You watch him as he pours himself a cup of coffee, two spoonfuls of sugar, and a dash of what seems to be almond milk.

You wonder if he likes iced coffees, as they can be so nice during the summertime. He wears those lovely blue swim shorts once again, hair slightly damp (with a pretty curliness to a few strands) and a navy bathrobe. It’s that same outfit as the other time you saw him, and you realize that they’re probably filming a movie. He moves around the counter, putting away certain little ingredients and whatnot.

The most mundane actions ever, ones that even you did just this morning. But god, he just makes it all seem so unique. He cards his fingers through his brown, almost dirty blond hair. There are clumps of strands that stick together, wetness that’ll dry probably as soon as he steps outside. He faces the window, staring out towards the fence that has been freshly painted, and sighs.

His head lulls back, and his neck is exposed. He’s probably both an actor and a model, you think to yourself. His chest hair has grown a bit more, and you can’t find yourself complaining. Tingles run through your body and even down to your pussy. You rub your thighs together, trying to make the feeling go away, while still being careful about holding onto the fence. You hope that he doesn’t know you’re watching him because you’ll never be able to live that down.

And it’s just so unfortunate that Helmut is such a clever man. Heightened senses from when he used to camp a lot when he was younger; he just knows practically everything. He knows you’re watching him, squinting your eyes until they’re nearly shut close. The skin around them wrinkles in the most adorable way, just like the way your nose scrunches up out of instinct. God, he could kiss every crevice of your body, even if you don’t know who he is.

“Hey, Helmut, we have a few re-shoots to do. Do you want to start now?” one of the cameramen asks him, holding a microphone in his hand. “No… I’m tired; we’ll do it all tomorrow,” Helmut says, waving his hand. He’s no longer looking outside and instead at the man who he’s addressing. He nods and walks off before Helmut follows him. Common courtesy is to always escort your guests out, and Helmut was raised with manners. With a hand on the man’s lower back, and a smile on his face, Helmut gently pushes him out the door and locks it.

You watch him as he disappears, seemingly leading someone out of his home, and you think all is fine. That is until that little voice in your mind decides to be obnoxious. The slight possibility that you’ve been caught and he’s mad haunts you, and your breath hitches. Your eyeballs are wide open, as big as the eyes of an owl, and your hands shake a bit out of fear. They dampen up a bit, not enough to the point where you’d be disgusted, but they’re clammy nonetheless.

You make a move to jump off the latter, not caring about the possible risk of falling and scraping your pretty legs. Your hands begin to let go of the fence, but they’re stopped by someone grabbing you by your wrists. You let out a squeal of shock as they hold you tightly from over the barrier, and you’re screwed. “I’m sorry!” you quickly yell, squinting your eyes out of fear. You’re not sure what to expect, whether he would yell at you or threaten to call the cops.

“No, it’s okay. Calm down, I’m not mad. Come back,” Helmut tells you, and you calm down. Yet you’re still nervous, scared that he’s a liar and that you’ll be in deep shit with the law. You step back onto the latter and are wary of looking over the wood. His eyes meet yours, and you swallow thickly. “I’m not mad, okay? I think it’s kind of cute. You’re like a curious little bunny,” he smiles, and you giggle.

“Never been called that before, usually just a curious cat,” you share with him, and he laughs. “Well, that’s not wrong,” he adds. A brief silence intrudes, and you just stare at one another. Helmut’s eyes jump from feature to feature on your face, relishing in that unique gorgeousness of yours. Someone like you will never be found amongst models because you’re an absolute angel. You’re like a pretty rose amongst other flowers; all are beautiful in their own ways, but you always manage to stand out.

You wonder if Helmut is the wolf to your bunny. That dark look in his eyes that compliments his features and overall attitude. He carries himself in such a way that old Hollywood actors wish they were so graceful. He’s the polar opposite of you––seemingly. But from the few words you’ve exchanged with each other, he just might be a bunny friend to yours. “I- I saw that there were cameras and I heard people talking… Are you filming a movie?” you ask him.

“...Yes, we are, bunny. I apologize for being so loud. Do you forgive me?” Helmut questions with a smile on his face. You nod your head and bite on your bottom lip, watching as his eyes brighten up a bit. “What’s it about? Can I know? Are you the main protagonist? Or the antagonist? What genre is it?” you interrogate, flooding him with questions. “Shh, one at a time, bunny. It’s very, very special and secretive. I can’t tell you much. But I’m the main protagonist, and it’s a bit of a naughty movie, so I don’t think a little girl like you should know much,” he whispers to you.

You nod your head as you listen to him, so intrigued about the work of art being filmed next door. “I’ve always wanted to be in a movie! Especially in one of those old Hollywood ones, they’re so good,” you admit to him shyly, with a coy smirk on your face. “Really? I think you’d be an amazing actress. You’d be even more popular than Audrey Hepburn and Marilyn Monroe,” Helmut praises, and you giggle once again.

“T- Thank you so much! ...Can I be in your movie?” you politely request him, but he shakes his head. You frown, your bottom lip jutted out. “You wouldn’t want to be in this movie, bunny. Remember what I said? It’s a naughty movie, and you’re just a little girl,” he reminds you, but you’re still pouting. “Is it a violent movie? One with curse words and lots of scary stuff?” you innocently ask, not sure as to what he means.

Helmut laughs quite loudly. “No,” he stifles a chuckle, “but one day I’ll shoot a movie with you, and I’ll show you how it’s all done.” He promises, and you can just tell he’s honest. You’re elated, hoping that the day he’s talking about will come soon. “What is your name, bunny?” Helmut asks, and you tell him. He nods before repeating it, giving you a smile. He brings both of your hands close to his face. You go on the tip of your toes to properly watch him once more. He presses his lips to the back of your hands, kisses them one by one.

“Go get some rest, bunny, and come by my place tomorrow,” he tells you before letting go of your wrists. He walks off before you do anything else. Sliding the glass door behind him, he disappears somewhere, and you’re left all by yourself. You’re still standing there, sighing dreamily as you replay the moments that will surely turn into a broken record. You hope that he’ll wear those blue swim shorts again, even though he’s already worn them twice.

There’s a skip in your step—nothing new and nothing unusual. Your shoes scratch against the concrete of the sidewalk that connects to Helmut’s front door. The sun only rose an hour and a half ago. The sky is a bright blue, filled with a few clouds that compliment the colour. The sun beats down onto your skin, and you haven’t forgotten to put on sunscreen once you finish twirling around in your little sundress.

You’ve got a miniature backpack that is slung over both of your shoulders. It’s orange, a bright one, in fact. It reminds you of the tangerines you love to peel, and those creamsicle treats that can be quite rare to find at this time of the year. You climb up the two steps that lead to his grey door, and you rap the wood a few times. There’s a doorbell too, one of those high-tech ones that record everything in its view.

Nothing but silence echoes back. No cars driving by, no birds chirping, no insects buzzing. Nothing. You wonder if he’s woken up yet, or if he’s even home. But as the door suddenly swings open––without a squeak, mind you––you’re met with the smiling face that belongs to Helmut. “Good morning, early-bird, is everything alright?” he questions, not one ounce of sleep tainting his look.

“Good morning! Everything is alright… D- Do you remember what you told me yesterday? About coming by?” you ask him, almost thinking to yourself that you’re just insane and that conversation never really happened. “Oh, right! Sorry, I've been a bit forgetful lately. But come in, have you eaten already?” Helmut asks as he moves to the side for you to enter.

Hesitatingly, you step inside his home. You kick off your shoes and look around. It seems sleek and modern at first, quite… different from the familiar feel of your house. Now, there are no wild polygons or geometric shapes that make you feel like you’ve been placed on a spaceship. No, it’s something that even your mind can’t come up with. The walls are a cream colour, engraved with different patterns that make it resemble marble. The chairs and couches have clear plastic legs on them, adding to that newfound era feel.

The floors are a light brown colour; wood in the shape of long, skinny parallelograms fitting against each other perfectly. The lights hang down a bit, high ceilings that you can’t even fathom reaching. You spin around and look up at them as they shine down brightly on you. They stem down from a pretty grey bronze appliqué that is attached to the ceiling. It’s practically art, just like the portraits of half-naked ladies that hang on his walls. There’s a specific piece that is above the fireplace.

It’s a mirror, and your reflection is in it. So is Helmut’s. You’re in front of him, looking at him through the mirror. He’s behind you, staring at your reflection. You both stay like that for a bit before you look away and admire the windows. He has such a lovely view; you can’t help but envy him for it. “Now, bunny, I have to be honest with you. We wrapped the movie up last night, and it was very late. I didn’t call you over because of that, and I’m really sorry about that. Do you forgive me?” Helmut questions.

You nod your head eagerly, just sensing that he’ll lead on with some sort of good news. Your parents have done that far too many times for you not to know better. “But, if you want, I’ll put you in a movie. It’ll be just between you and me because it won’t be too professional, okay?” Helmut grabs your hands and looks you in the eyes, waiting for your answer. “Oh, yes, please! That sounds amazing. Thank you so much!” you cheer, wrapping your arms around him.

You hug him tightly, and he eventually hugs you back. “Now, I want to finish it as soon as possible. So set your bag right on this couch, and go sit on that one,” Helmut instructs, pointing at the biggest couch in the living room. You nod and do exactly as he tells you. He walks away, possibly to set something up or to get ready, but either way, you still sit on his couch, filled with pure excitement. You cross one leg over the other, your pretty white dress covering the upper half of your thighs.

Lace that is on top of the cotton, both the same colour, and you realize how much you love this dress. Helmut saunters back into the living room, holding a giant tripod in one hand and a small camera in the other. You gasp at the sight, and he chuckles. Setting them up from the other side of the small coffee table, you watch him in awe. “This is going to be… a big girl movie, okay? Just like the one I was in. But I don't think it will be visible to the public eye, might just be between you and I,” Helmut tells you.

You nod in understanding. “Are you fine with that, little bunny?” he asks you just for reassurance. “Mhm, you can do anything you want; I don’t mind!” you reassure him, with a giant smile on your face. He swallows thickly as blood rushes downwards to his cock from your words. You still grin gleefully, such innocence on your features that he almost feels bad for having feelings for you.

He presses the little power button on the camera and waits for a green light to come on. With a smirk, Helmut walks around the table and stands in front of you. You look up at him, waiting for him to do something. He bends down and grabs both sides of your face––gently, of course––and he makes you stand up. He tilts his head and leans forward, slotting his lips against yours.

Now, you’ve kissed someone before. His name started with something along the lines of ‘J’ or ‘L,’ but that doesn’t matter. But that kiss was nothing like Helmut’s kiss. His kiss is soft and passionate, something you struggle to match. His lips stay locked with yours before moving to push his tongue into your mouth. You’re not sure what to do, so you just give up and let him kiss you until you both run out of breath. His tongue runs against the wet skin of your mouth, and you gasp at the feeling.

He eventually pulls away, and he looks at you with his eyes blown out. Helmut sighs and smiles at you. “You gotta trust me, okay?” he tells you once more, and you nod. “Ok…” you trail off, not knowing what to follow up with. “You gotta call me by a nickname, bunny… Hmm, how about Daddy?” he exclaims, his accent becoming more prominent. You love it and how unique it is. “Okay! I like that one a lot, my friend calls her boyfriend that sometimes,” you share with him, and he laughs.

He sits you down on the couch again, and his hand inches up your dress, making you giddy. He smiles at you, and you can see from the corner of your eye how the camera is filming you both. Helmut just knows you’re wet already, but you probably don’t know it. And he’s not wrong. You feel slightly tingly, but that’s nothing out of the ordinary. Your panties slide down your legs, a wet patch on them, and Helmut throws them to the side. He lifts your dress over your head and tosses the fabric away, too.

He takes a step back and admires you. You still have your ankle socks on, but God, you’re so gorgeous he thinks he’s in heaven. “You’re so pretty, bunny. The prettiest bunny I’ve ever seen,” he compliments. You grow shy and smile before whispering a thank you. You smile at the camera, and he begins to undress. The first thing that goes is the robe, and his chest is now exposed.

Helmut hasn’t shaved his chest hair, and you’re glad. It looks nice on him––but to be fair––anything does. All he has on is those swim shorts. God, you love those shorts so much. They’re no longer wet, and yet they still cling to his thighs. He slowly pulls them down––and you feel as though you should look away and give him privacy––but you just can’t. His cock is hard, and it shows through the fabric, but you’re too busy staring at his hands to notice it.

His Adonis belt is slowly exposed, along with his pelvic bone, as he pulls down his boxers as well. There’s a small bush of hair right above his cock, and you find yourself wanting to tangle your fingers between the strands. Helmut’s cock bounces up––hard, red, and leaking––and the tip slaps right below his belly button. You let out a gasp, and he chuckles. His swim shorts lie on the floor, and you’re suddenly being urged to lay back.

Helmut climbs on top of you, caging you beneath his well-built body. Soft abs that are just perfect enough for you, and big hands that hold you so lovingly. He wants to feel his rough palms against your delicate skin, falling into every groove and curve there is. Like an artist admiring their artwork, he runs his hands along your body. From your thighs to your hips, over your stomach, between your breasts, all the way up to your neck. His hard cock is between your legs, nearly touching your sensitive little pussy.

You swallow nervously at the feeling. Helmut’s left hand wraps around your throat, and his right hand moves downwards to your legs. Gripping your calf, he places your right leg on the head of the couch and moves to position your left leg so that it hangs off the edge of the seat. You’re spread wide open for Helmut, not able to hide your naked body or close your legs. Your hands rest above your head, almost as though you’re pathetically shielding your hair from the rain.

Helmut’s hand still rests on your neck, but he doesn’t squeeze your throat or anything like that. You’re not sure if he’s playing the antagonist or not, but you decide to just go along with what he does. “You’re okay, right, bunny? You’re fine, I’m gonna treat you so good,” he promises, and you give him your best superstar smile. You have to admit that you’re nervous, but you trust him completely. Helmut would never do anything wrong to you.

“Has anyone ever touched you down here, bunny? Have you ever touched down here?” he questions you, walking his fingers up to your soaking wet pussy. “Hmm, uh, I touched it once, but I didn’t know what was happening, so I stopped,” you shyly explain to him, and he nods. “That’s okay, bunny. Can I touch you here? I won’t hurt you too badly, I promise,” Helmut assures you, and you nod. His index finger sticks out, and he watches as slick drips from your hole and coats the silky skin around it.

The digit becomes a bit shiny and quite sticky, and he traces your slit lightly. You shiver lightly from his touch, and sensitivity blooms in your core. “Uhm… Daddy?” you call out to him, a bit worried. “What’s wrong, bunny?” he asks, bringing his finger up to your clit. It throbs with want, just like the veins on his cock. “It feels very sensitive, almost too sensitive…” you admit to him, even though he continues to touch your clit.

“That’s okay, bunny, that’s how it’s supposed to feel. But if you want to stop, just tell me,” Helmut urges you. “Okay, Daddy.” He rubs your little nub in small, light circles. The muscles in your legs twitch, and you bite down on your bottom lip. He continues to touch your clit, and you begin to writhe from the overwhelming feeling. You let out a few whines, and Helmut watches as your cunt just gets wetter and wetter.

You try to shift his hands away from you in your weird position. It’s just too much at once, and you’re scared of what will happen next. The pornstar’s finger slips off your cunt, and he lets out a small gasp. The sound is mixed with displeasure, and you look him in the eyes with innocence. “Don’t do that again, bunny,” he warns, squeezing your neck a bit just to add to his threat. His index finger returns to your clit, and this time, he rubs your little pearl even harder. You see stars, ones that are dark and would be hidden in the blackness of outer space. Your eyes roll back into your skull, and you’ve never felt such pleasure in your life. Helmut’s digit touches the most sensitive part of your clit, and you jerk in response. Your legs try to shut close, but his body stops you from doing so.

When you open your eyes, you’re faced with a displeased superstar. Helmut lets out a shaky exhale, trying to compose himself. He knows he shouldn’t get mad at you, but he just doesn’t like it when he doesn’t have his way. His hand leaves your cunt and moves downwards. Suddenly, a harsh slap lands on your ass, making you cry out in pain. The skin stings and prickles, and you can feel slight tears beginning to form in your eyes.

Instead of staring at your pretty little face, Helmut squeezes your neck even tighter and watches as your little hole begins to leak with even more wetness. “Aww, bunny, did you enjoy Daddy hitting you? Hm? I bet you did; that’s you’re so wet,” he chuckles, and you grow shy. He’s not wrong, though. You enjoyed the pain quite a bit, even though you tend to avoid any and all activities that could leave you with a minor injury.

“Such a little slut for pain. But I bet you don’t like it when Daddy gets mean with you, right? Yeah, because you’re just a sensitive little bunny,” he coos, and you smile. You nod to him, and he grins down at you. Helmut’s cock is a furious red, almost purple if you really look closely. Beads of precum run down the sides of his cock, all the way to his thick base. He slaps your ass once more, enjoying the way you flinch and then smile from delight.

“I guess I’ve been a bit mean, just touching your little button without even letting you come…” he sighs before shifting onto his knees. Helmut looks over to the camera, just to make sure it’s still recording. And it is, so he smiles. He towers over you even more now, a few strands on his hair dangling downwards, and you find yourself wanting to play with them. The hand that was on your ass grasps the base of his cock, and he runs the head through your folds.

A quiet squelching sound echoes between the both of you, and you giggle. Your laughter is cut short when he bumps up against your clit, and you let out a moan. The sound is unexpected on your behalf, but Helmut just smirks. Your moans turn into a string of shallow pants, and he curses under his breath at the feeling. Dragging his head away from your clit, he brings himself down to your hole, and you let out an even louder gasp.

“Shh, just let Daddy in, okay? I know it’s your first time, but it’s okay. You’re fine, don’t worry,” Helmut reassures. You nod your head and let out a pained cry as he pushes into you slowly. You feel as though you’re being torn apart, split into two. He grips your throat even tighter, and you wrap your hand around his wrist in a panicked, fleeting moment.

Helmut sheathes himself inside you, with your mouth parted open in a silent scream and his eyebrows knitted together. He eventually bottoms out, and the stretch of his cock goes from a harsh burn to a pleasurable feeling. His swollen balls touch your aching ass, and he bends down to kiss your forehead lightly. “Feels good, doesn’t it?” he questions. “Y- Yes, it feels really good, Daddy. Just a li’l uncomfortable, but it feels really good,” you tell him.

Your cunt squeezes him in a tight hug, your silky wet walls welcoming him in hesitantly. He wishes to stay inside you his whole life, and he would if he could convince you. Helmut pulls out until his head is the only thing inside you before roughly thrusting back inside. You cry out, and his hand loosens around your throat. “Such a good girl, letting me use your pussy for my pleasure. You like being recorded while I fuck you, right? Say it,” he demands, fucking into you roughly.

Your tits bounce with each and every movement. Helmut’s cock gets closer and closer to your sweet spot, and you moan loudly. “I- I like being recorded while you fuck me, Daddy,” you repeat to him. Helmut groans loudly, and you clench down on his cock tightly. “You feel so good, bunny, better than anyone else,” he compliments, feeling slick sweat beginning to build upon his back. “Uhm, Daddy? S- Something’s happening,” you whisper to him through your desperate cries of pleasure.

Searing heat grows hotter and hotter in your stomach, right above your pussy. You’ve never felt like this before, other than when Helmut was touching your pussy a few moments ago. “Let it happen, bunny, it’s okay, come all over Daddy’s big cock. I know you can do it, squeeze me, bunny,” Helmut urges, and you listen to him. The powerful feeling grows and grows, and so do your moans. And the elastic cord breaks eventually. It always does.

You cry out ‘Daddy’ as you come undone around his cock for the very first time. He continues to fuck you through your orgasm, even though you’re gripping him so tightly. You gush all over him, wetness coating his cock, and it makes him fuck you even quicker. The sound of skin on skin and loud moans fill the room, and Helmut hopes to God that the microphone is picking up on it all. The feeling in your body makes you lose all sense of reality, and you’re babbling like a little baby.

“Daddy- It’s too much,” you sob to him, digging your nails into your palms. “Shh, it’s okay, bunny,” he shushes gently, keeping his hand wrapped lazily around your neck. Helmut’s cock slams into your cunt, pounding into you ruthlessly, yet he’s somehow oh so gentle. Your eyes roll into the back of your head again, and you moan gently as you feel another climax being built up. Back to back, and you’re not sure how your body is going to handle it.

He’s close, too. He’s never had this happen before, and he’s not sure what to think of it.

“Awe, you’re going to come again, bunny? That’s okay, shh, Daddy’s here, bunny. We’ll do it together, and it’ll b- be good,” he tells you, and you nod. Helmut bends down and places his shiny forehead against yours. He stares you into your glassy eyes––they’re hazy––and he can tell you’re gone. You’ve gotten all stupid and dumb for his cock, and he loves the idea so much.

You both pant as he sloppily fucks into your cunt, his heavy balls slapping against your ass. “Fuck, I can’t wait to fill up your tight little pussy with my cum. Gonna watch it leak out, and I’m just gonna fill you up over and over again. Make you all mine because you belong to me. Right? Say it,” he growls, fucking you even faster. “I’m all yours, Daddy, I’m all yours,” you say to him, and you’re both pushed off the edge after one specific thrust.

“O- Oh my…” you choke out, squeezing your eyes shut. Helmut curses loudly, saying all kinds of sinful things that a nun would faint if she hears him. His cock twitches as he comes inside you, and your pussy squeezes him as you let go. Streaks of cum shoot out his tip and paint your inner walls, and it all begins to leak out already. Your cum mixes with his, and he can’t lie and say he doesn’t enjoy the sight of it.

He presses a kiss on your nose before slowly pulling out. Helmut’s cock is still hard, and he just knows the afternoon won’t end until he says so. You wince loudly at the feeling of emptiness and overwhelming sensitivity. “Sorry, bunny,” he frowns, reaching over for the camera. You watch him through droopy eyelids as he focuses it on your cunt, then to your body, and then to your face.

“Did I do good, Daddy?” you ask him excitedly.

“So good, bunny. You’re going to be sweeping up at the awards next year.”

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sweetsbfreex · 4 years ago

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my baby, my baby

brought to u by me watching IW for the millionth time

Summary: You ask Steve for one thing before the fight against Thanos (IW), but for the first time in however long he denies you of fulfilling this wish.

Warnings: language?

Pairing: Nomad, Bf!Steve x thanos daughter!reader

He was manning the quinjet, not all the way true. Sam was flying the jet to Wakanda, Steve slumped in his seat beside Sam, in deep thought. His chin is set into his palm, his arm sitting up on the armrest, and his palm covering half of his mouth. Looking further down his leg was jittering steadily.

What would happen next was a pretty big deal, none of you on the jet knew what could go wrong. So obviously tensions were at an all time high in this cooped up jet.

You rise up from your seat between Wanda and Nat. Walking yourself behind Steve’s chair. Your pointer finger taps his embellished shoulder, separating him from his apprehensive thoughts. He looks up at you and the creases that were once prominent in his forehead evaporated.

You don’t utter anything, only nudging your head behind you.

Follow me to the back.

Is what’s reciprocated when he too gets up from his seat, letting Sam know he’ll be up front in a second. Once you turn, he follows you down the small aisle to the side “room” away from all the prying ears.

Finally.

You step into the room first. You weren't going to lie, your heart was beating with so much force and it only grew as he walked past you into the room. You close the door behind you, turning, so you're facing Steve's attentive figure.

You only smile at him to some extent, prompted to show there were no ill intentions to asking him back here. When you see how nervous he looks, as you take his hand seating the both of you to a bench against the wall.

Your knees tenderly touch. He clears his throat coercing you to go on, raising an eyebrow in confusion.

“You alright doll?” he asks you, in a gentle manner. Taking the already linked palms shifting it from your lap to his. His other hand blanketing your combined hands.

“I’m okay. Are you?” you ask the question hesitantly, raising your spare hand to move aside the hair that fell over and veiled his eyes. You desperately wanted to make sure you got a good look at his face. You loved his face.

His cheeks go plump in a charming smile, and his hand squeezes yours back.

His hair was long. Longer than you would’ve ever imagined Steve would let it be. Either way you loved every inch of the gold locks. Yet, everytime you told him how much you loved it, despite his insecurity and slight annoyance with it. He'd always fall into a rampage down memory lane. Telling you how his late mother would've hounded him about the upkeep of his hair.

You adored that about him too. Loved, that he loved so hard and so full. He’d never forget the ones he loved no matter what.

“I’m swell, you don’t need to worry about me” he tells you.

You didn’t believe him one bit and you weren’t going to push him about it. You knew how he was...stubborn as ever. But, it was also ,by and large, your job to worry about him–– after loving him of course. Contrary to what he would say (Which was vice-versa.)

“We’re gonna be okay...okay? But I have something to ask you. And you can’t get mad.”

“I’m not promising that, but we won’t shout. We’ll talk it out–– whatever it is”

It was the best you were going to get from him and time was closing in on you guys being able to be like this, anway.

“I know how you are, but this is a really critical thing we're fighting for here. So, unless I'm in some type of grave danger. I don’t want you worrying about me on the field. No matter what...Make sure he doesn’t get that stone.” Your voice lets you down towards the end, starting to get scratchy and low.

He stands up in no time. His hands going to his belt, then to his hips, he finally raises one hand to run against his beard.

His facial hair, another thing in the endless things you loved about Steve Rogers.

When the stubble he usually shaves away kept growing into a full beard, it surprised you both. You in a hot kind of way, he became more adoring by day when decided to stop shaving.

You walked in on him one day. He was facing the scratched up mirror in a bathroom in a dingy hotel room. Running his fingers against his face, the other clutching onto the edge of the counter. Tilting his head back and to, eyes shifting as he looked over his face. It was another part of the effect of the serum he didn’t expect would happen.

Telling you a story as he wandered down memory lane again. How he had problems growing stubble as a sickly kid–– so behind on puberty. He even watched Bucky grow his first “stache” at sixteen, but that came to an abrupt stop when Bucky’s mother made him shave it off.

Steve thought It was weird to think that he could now also.

You were still sitting on the bench. Swiveling your body so you were facing your boyfriend, looking up at his fidgeting build with care.

Feeling like a child waiting for their parents to dispute whatever impending punishment they would grant.

“Why would you ask me that?” he finally, finally disrupts his silence. Scoffing at the offensive question.

He doesn’t look at you with anything negative, only confusion.

“Because. I don’t want you jumping in front of whatever it is in front of me...I know him, he’s my dad. He’ll do anything to get what he wants, even if it means I die.”

When Steve told you that it was actually Bruce calling and told you what he said. He looked at you baffled when the shirt you were about to put on dropped from your grasp.

Once you told him you had knowledge of Thanos and how you knew him, there was a pregnant silence in the air.

If anything it filled the rage towards Thanos in Steve even more, by the time you finished.

“Are you listening to yourself?” he questions you in disbelief, lips stuck in a sneer.

“Please. Just please, angel.” you maintain.

You don’t answer either of his questions and he truly hates that. He stays silent for a bit watching your seated figure, looking up at him with the saddest eyes you’ve ever given him. His puzzled eyes shift down to your bobbing leg and your hands wringing together with so much speed and anguish.

He could probably throw up right now.

And when he shifts his eyes up again, you keep that same look on your face waiting for him to say anything.

He sighs dejectedly, dropping his hands to his side, and walking himself back over to you. He sits closer to you than before. Extending a gloved hand to caress your cheek before fixing the flyaways from your sleek ponytail.

“I can’t. You’ll always be my priority, and I won’t promise something like that sweetheart” he tells you this languidly. His thumb starts to rub circles against your cheekbone, to calm you down, when he catches the way your eyes widen at his admission.

“Steve!” your voice breaks. So shocked, you can’t hold back the tears that build up and fall slowly over your face.

You couldn’t believe this. He’s supposed to love you. Time and time again he’d always remind you how much he loves you and how he’d do anything for you–– too hard to say no to you, his words. Thinking this over you pull your face away from his hold, looking down at your taut hands. This wasn’t a silly death wish. You had to make sure your father didn’t get what he desired, no matter what.

He hates having to watch you cry, but he doesn’t have much of a choice now. He needs to stand his ground, there was no way he would be arguing about this. And he does this, grabbing your face with a light hand, so you were face to face again.

"I love you so much. And if I have to choose between letting you die and Thanos losing. Or you living and watching the universe crumble, you know exactly what I'm gonna choose. I'm not losing you, not if I have anything to do with it"

Albeit how dumb it sounded, there is no notable instance in his life where’d let you perish over him.

“You’re not thinking this through” you hiccup.

“It’s you, isn’t it? There’s not much to think about” he smiles at you and as you look at him you can see his eyes glazing over.

His statement only causes you to cry more. You feel nothing but the pain in your heart and the repositioning of your body. It takes you a moment to realize you’re settled on his thighs sideways. His well built arm warmly wraps around your shoulder, your temple rests against his shoulder, and his lips are placing light kisses to the crown of your head.

You incline your head, “I love you too much” you say in an awed whisper, raising a hand to twirl in the strands at the back of his collar. Following that, you let your hand spread across the back of his neck pulling him down for a kiss.

“After this we’re done okay? We have our pardon and are going to buy whatever house you want to get. I’m gonna buy you the prettiest engagement ring money can buy, Gonna get whatever animals you want,” you chuckle at that part.

If there was one thing Steve learned while living incognito with you is that you’d save any animal if you were able to. Always stopping whenever you passed by any animal in need in the drary streets. Looking up at Steve, who’d always have to remind you that neither of you could give it the life it deserves right now. Opting to only go to the nearest convenience store to buy whatever safe animal food in sight.

His hand immediately clutches your face to wipe away the tears that fell without pattern. His smile grows fonder when you do the same. “‘Can paint the house whatever we decide...maybe even get a house big enough to fit the kids we’ll have?” he tells you the last part in such a timid manner, bearing one of his hands to clutch yours. His thumb running over your knuckles at full tilt.

The only thing you were able to give him was a stunned look. So shocked you were unable to react like a normal person.

You squeeze his hand tight only being able to stutter a “really?”

“Of course. I want to have a bunch of small Rogers with you, wreaking havoc around our house” he admits this to you, carrying out such strong eye contact. If his hand didn’t slither down your back, supporting you up and grounding you, you’d jump in glee.

Fuck. Neither of you had talked about this, but you were glad that you both were on the same page about his. You felt terrified but in a good way, wanting to wholly get this over with and start this dream life with Steve.

“And this is all gonna happen, because everything is going to go well. We’re gonna win, I don’t want you thinking like that or asking me something like that ever again. Thanos will never be on our list of priorities ever again.”

“I’m sorry, baby. I can’t wait to start that life with you” you respond, winding your arms around his neck, crashing your lips to his with force.

He pulls away without notice to place hasty kisses to your cheek, loving the giggles you emitted. Even so, the energy in the room shifts too soon when Sam knocks on the door. Steve allows him entrance.

“Sorry to interrupt, but we’re about to land Cap”

Steve responds by nodding his head once, stiffly. Letting him know he’d be out in a second.

You get off of his thighs, so the both of you were standing chest to chest. He claps your worried face. Pulling you into him with little force, so his lips could fall to your forehead, nose, and lips.

“Remember what I said and be safe, I love you”

“I love you” you recite, bringing his hand down to kiss his covered palm.

With that he envelops you in his arm, his cheek resting against the top of your head. Both of you breathing each other in. Your shoulders relaxing at his loving touch.

He’d do whatever needed to keep you safe and if it ended in his death, then so be it. You’d do the same for him in a heartbeat, there was no point in either of you arguing this one out.

––––

Everyone was tired, it seemed like this fight only dragged on with the never-ending monsters. But, with the help of Thor (of course) it seemed like things were only getting positive from there. With the way he rendered lightning, destroying things into dust, you were ready to end this once and for all.

And when a cloud of grey smoke appeared out of thin air, and a large titanian appeared. You knew this would either be the ending or the beginning of all these troubles.

“That’s him” you falter, turning to Steve. You give him a quick once over, nothing the way he eyed your father. A menacing, scary look on his face and the furrow of his eyebrows only grow.

“We have eyes on Thanos” he says into the intercom.

It’s like time stands still for a few seconds, no one moves a muscle. You haven't seen this man in years. You feel as if he doesn't recognize who you are as he glances over everyone, like they're roaches in his kitchen.

Yet, in a blur, everyone takes their chance on Thanos. Trying their hardest to somehow, someway take this Titanian down. Bruce gets thrown with a shout, Branches entwine Nat, and Sam drops from the air smoothly.

At some point you hear the grunt of Steve, who somehow gets some punches in, his hands clutching the gauntlet. He shouts from the hefty weight and in a swift motion is stock-still on the ground from the punch he endures.

“Steve!”

Without a choice you run towards Thanos, your adrenaline kicking in. Kicking in punching only to use your hands to grasp around the metal. You knew towards the end; you were no match for him.

“Please! Please don’t do this. Dad please I’m begging you” you plead profusely, but he only looks down at you emotionless. “Please, please, please” you cry, your head hangs low for a bit before you raise it up again. “This won’t fix anything! You–– you…JUST TAKE IT OFF” you scream, knuckles colliding with the gold.

You try so hard to think of anything to turn his mind, but he only looks at you like a stranger. Not the little girl he recruited and used to look at with some kind of affection. His type of affection, if you could even title it that, affection.

Sure, he raised you to be a ruthless killer and thief, but you’d do anything in this key moment to change his crooked mind.

“You don’t get to call me that again. You chose your path...I always knew you’d be the one to let me down the most” he says all this with so much venom.

You cry as you're lifted in the air, by his gauntlet hand, and thrown against the bark of a tree.

You're in a daze. The only things securing you back is the hand against your cheek and a booming, choked up "no". Hearing it a distance away.

You open your eyes to see Steve in front of you, your name on his lips almost incessantly. But when you open them, your eyes quickly move to Thor. Who’s a few feet away from the two of you, shocked and angry. The remnant of smoke in the air. You knew he did it.

“We lost?” you ask Steve, tears already forming in your eyes, as he carefully lifts you to his feet.

He doesn’t get the chance to answer you, though.

“Steve…?” It’s Bucky, You both look towards him to see him fall slowly, disappearing into a brown dust.

You both look on, shocked all while Steve tries to drag himself and your weak body to Bucky. But it’s already too late.

“Buck?!” Steve calls out, but there’s no answer.

You watch on in disorder, stomach plummeting with every second that pasts. Your eyes catch Wanda looking onto Vision's body in sorrow and as you do, she turns into brown dust. It was frightening and you were speechless. So much happening around you, you weren’t sure where to look. You weren’t who was going away.

The hand against your spine, holding you up, starts to feel faint and a headache you had suffered from earlier comes back, but ten times stronger.

“My head hurts” you tell him, your words come out slowly as your mouth starts to feel numb. You drop your head to his shoulder. “Stevie...I can’t feel your hands” you blubber, chest heaving as your breathing picks up. Everything was happening so, so fast.

He lifts your head, “Hey, you’re alright sweetheart, you took a hard hit. Just a bit banged up, gotta stay awake in case it’s a concussion” he reassures you.

You don’t believe him and when you look down at your right hand to see it crumbling away little by little. You lift your wrist up, hand gone. You look down to see the brown dust below your view.

You didn’t want to go. You had merely planned your dream future with him. It wasn’t fair your father would be the one to rip that away from you.

“No. No, you’re alright, stop that” he condemns, bringing your other hand to his bruised lips imperatively. Watching as it climbs up and up, half of your shoulder already gone.

“I’m scared. I love you so much Steve”

“I love you so much doll, feel like we’ve been saying it all day” he tries to joke, eyes roaming all over your face. He had to make sure he had your face recognized to a t, even if it was in a manner of pain.

And you do the same. You weren’t sure where you were going. Were you even dying?! You couldn’t tell, all you knew was Steve and some of your friends wouldn’t be where you were going.

You laugh despondently, low, and mirthlessly knowing how much he needed that laugh at the moment.

“No. I’m gonna––” you start, but never get to finish, because at that moment. In a flash, he’s left with the sight of the soot falling in a sway, like leaves tumbling to the ground. Staring at him gloved palms to see nothing of you there any longer.

He does nothing but stand there for a few minutes, recollecting the exchange. Not only was his best friend gone, but so was his best girl.

He had one fucking job. Keep you safe at all times. Not only did he let the whole universe down, he let you down. You were gone. He can only think about the moment you both had on the jet, telling you, you had nothing to worry about. Because you guys were going to win and now she is gone. He let you down in the worst possible way imaginable. You were gone…

He repeats this to himself, losing hope each time that you would be back in just a second.

He turns around to see his friends observing him and once he notices that Sam is no longer among the group it only increases his agony.

“Cap?” Nat mumbles.

“FUCK!” he breaks. Ripping the gloves off his hand before he sets himself against the ground–– his body feeling heavy. His head is in his hand, body heaving roughly as he cries quietly.

Everyone is stunned and takes a step back to give his face, not remembering the last time they’ve seen him this broken or the last he’s had an outburst resulting in a curse word.

He isn’t sure how he’s supposed to live with this guilt or without you by his side. In spite of that, there was no way in hell he wasn’t going to try and find a way to bring you back.

– – – –

realized while writing thing i am not creative...this (beginning) was literally a scene

if you enjoyed pls don’t forget to reblog or give feedback if ur up to it <3

#steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #avengers fanfiction #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers x fem!reader #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers angst #steve rogers x you #chris evans x reader #marvel fanfiction #captain america x reader #captain america #captain america fanfiction #steve rogers oneshot #steve rogers x female reader #steve rogers x avenger reader

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classic80sand90smovieloves2 · 3 years ago

Text

Meeting and Dating Ian Malcolm

(Not my gif)(Requested by anonymous)

(When I tell you I love this man.)

- You and Ian meet when you attend the same STEM related conference; though it would be more accurate to say that you met while you attended a conference that he was lecturing at.

- Nevertheless, you were both in the same room and wound up interfacing before the meeting was over; an interaction that would lead to a very interesting and at times exasperating relationship.

- You found him fascinating; just like pretty much everyone else in the crowd, someone who had a big, entertaining personality in a field that so often lacked personality. You liked him the minute he opened his mouth.

- He, in turn, thought that you were gorgeous and found himself falling for you the minute he locked eyes on you. He was looking forward to the moment he could slink off stage and find a way to talk to you. He did so right after he finished his speech and the applause settled down.

- He artfully found his way through the crowd and managed to convince the person beside you to switch their seat, taking it for himself after the starry eyed boy got up.

- The two of you sat in silence for a little while before he leaned over and introduced himself, shaking your hand for a lingering moment before you both turned your attention back to the stage.

- Another beat of silence passed between you before he leaned over and murmured a funny comment to you, reveling in the way you tried to hold back your smile. You spent the rest of the meeting trying to stifle your laughter as your new ironic commentator continued his jokes and flirtation. It certainly made the conference more enjoyable.

- Once the shows over and everyone begins to clear out, he asks if you’re doing anything before asking if you’d like to go out and grab a couple of drinks or talk someplace.

- That's how you find yourself seated next to him at the bar of a nice little restaurant, listening to him explain the chaos theory in detail and trying your best to digest everything that he’s saying; along with your drinks.

- Along with his mathematical explanations, he also provides a lot of compliments and flirtation. You spend the evening feeling like the most important and sought after woman in the world

- Since you could easily; and very accurately, consider that little get together to be your first date, let’s move on to your first kiss.

- It’s a date or two later that the two of you share it. You don’t want to give in too easily; even if you want to kiss him a lot sooner, so you play coy until you cant take it any more and the moment feels perfectly right.

- Perfectly right seems to mean the middle of your kitchen after you invited him in for some coffee but hey, to each their own.

- Nevertheless, you’d invited him into your home after one of your dates and gone to your kitchen to get the two of you your drinks. He’d followed you in and when you handed him his cup of coffee, he’d leaned in, pressed his lips to yours and given you a soft kiss.

- When he pulled away, he smiled at you, raised his mug, and gave you a somewhat teasing thank you before he lead the way into your living room.

- One mug lead to another and you've been staying up late with each other ever since.

- Ian suffers from a deplorable need to constantly be touching you. On top of that, he really isn’t too preoccupied with how other people feel so Pda is very common and performed very shamelessly.

- His arm is usually wrapped around you in some way, whether it be draped across the back of your chair, wrapped around your shoulders, or haphazardly thrown in front of you while a T. Rex is charging towards you.

- Tight hugs; which usually means that you’re being somewhat picked up since he’s so goddamn tall.

- Having your hair played with; oftentimes while he uses his flirtation on you.

- Knee squeezes. His hand belongs to your knee whenever he can’t wrap his arm around you.

- He loves cheek kisses. He loves the sort of showing off feel of them whenever you’re in front of someone else; and he just loves how soft and sweet they are.

- Slow, passionate kisses.

- Oftentimes, you wind up sleeping in the crook of his arm; usually with your head resting against his chest. That being said, the two of you also just cuddle haphazardly, snuggling in any which way you can, your limbs entangled and your bodies relaxed.

- He tends to call you honey or baby but, considering the fact that he calls his daughter Queen, my goddess and my inspiration, there’s room for a few more over dramatic pet names in your relationship.

- Waking up together. Ian's a math professor so, depending on both your schedules, you’re usually getting up around the same time. Although, if you get up earlier than he has to, he’d definitely; somewhat begrudgingly, adapt to your schedule.

- The two of you are attached at the hip a lot of the time. If you choose to go somewhere, he’s bound to follow; whether that be to keep you safe or just because he enjoys spending time with you is anyone’s guess.

- Working on separate things while you’re together. Sometimes couples just want to be in the same room while they do their own thing and I think that’s beautiful.

- Going shopping together. He’s a fan of clothes shopping, groceries, not so much.

- He likes trying out new things and going to all those different places that pop up in town so the two of you visit a lot of new restaurants and shops.

- Going out to dinner at nice restaurants. He’s the Rockstar of the math community so of course he’d want to take you to a few high end places; whenever he could afford it that is.

- Traveling around the world together. Whenever he has to go somewhere, he likes taking you with him.

- Being in the crowds of his conferences and public appearances. You like cheering him on and he appreciates the fact that you’re always there for him; even if he doesn’t necessarily need the support.

- Ian isn’t the greatest at keeping his word and he can get really caught up in his work to the point where he forgets important things, but he does always try his best to make things up to you whenever he can.

- Becoming close with Kelly. She enjoys living with you when her mother can’t be bothered and Ian’s bogged down by work. He loves both his girls dearly so the fact that you get along with each other is very important to him.

- You get to use the fact that you’re with Kelly as an excuse to go do stupid and somewhat childish things like visiting arcades and county fairs. Not that you couldn’t do that without her but I think you know what I mean.

- Movie nights; usually with him and Kelly.

- Museum dates.

- He genuinely thinks that your weird interests and quirks are endearing and fascinating. Other people would consider them strange, Ian considers them to be a compelling part of your personality.

- Seeing you talk about things that you’re passionate about is one of his favorite things in the world. He thinks that drive to learn and do and the intelligence that you possess is extremely sexy.

- Sometimes he’ll just look at you like he wants to eat you alive and it’s extremely problematic. Sir, we are in public.

- Lots of flirting. It doesn’t matter how long you’ve been together, he still enjoys making you flustered and treating you like the prettiest girl he’s ever seen.

- Unnecessary and frankly disrespectful noises. If he doesn’t stop making salacious growls at you, you’re gonna have to act up.

- Letting him explain all his different theories and findings to you. He loves showing off and having your undivided attention.

- Breaking rules together. If you aren’t keen on doing so, he’d definitely tease you for being a goody goody.

- He carries around a flask most of the time so the two of you can always just park somewhere and drink together whenever you feel like. Some of your best memories take place in his car, passing around a little metal container and talking about nothing in particular.

- Sarcasm drips from this mans every pore so you should try to get used to it. As annoying as it can be, it does make for some funny comments here and there.

- Snarky comments; whether they’re directed at you or someone else. Ian can be a bit of a bastard so don’t be surprised when his mouth opens and something mocking comes out. Just be prepared to occasionally slap his arm and stop him from being a total ass to people; even if it’s justified.

- Corny little jokes.

- Trying to keep him from verbally destroying people. He’s very verbal about his opinions so chances are, he’s going to speak his mind at one point or another and you might not want to be there when he does.

- He’s a voice of reason for just about everyone on Earth so if you need someone to tell you when you’re being stupid, he’s perfect for you.

- Sticking with him and being there for him after everything happens. He changes very drastically in the following years after meeting Mr. Hammond but you love him no less.

- No matter what people may think of him, you still defend him and proudly stand by his side. You’ve learned to ignore the opinion of others and not entertain their gossip.

- Helping him deal with the trauma that comes with almost getting fucking eaten.

- Ian doesn’t get jealous very often. He’s secure enough in himself and knows that you wouldn’t cheat on him, but every now and again, if you’re particularly close to like a colleague or something, he’ll show some signs of jealousy. Mainly, he’ll just ask a bunch of questions about them and your relationship; all the while trying to play it off as normal curiosity.

- Ian is incredibly protective of you; particularly after the events of Jurassic park. He’s willing to do whatever he can to keep you safe; even if it means endangering himself or doing something that scares the hell out of him.

- The two of you don’t fight extremely often; and you rarely have very serious fights, but you do have an argument from time to time. He may say something sarcastic or hurtful in the heat of the moment on occasion but he never means it and he always immediately apologizes.

- Very few fights last overnight. He’s usually so quick to apologize and try to sort things out that you’re back on track in no time. Under his egotistical shell, he’s really just a big softie who wants things to be alright between the two of you.

- He tells you that he loves you a perfectly average amount of times; not too much and not too little. And he loves hearing you say it back or just tell him that you love him for no real reason.

- Ian legitimately loves kids. Like he’s fully prepared to get married and start a family with you at any given moment. Believe me, you just say the words and he’ll pop the question.

#ian malcolm imagine #ian malcolm imagines #ian malcolm headcanons #ian malcolm headcanon #jurassic park imagine #jurassic park imagines #jurassic park headcanons #jurassic park headcanon #90s movie imagine #90s movie imagines #90s movie headcanons #90s movie headcanon

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moistmailman · 3 years ago

Text

SCP AU part 2

*Jaune is pushed into a room with a bag over his face before the door shuts on him*

Jaune, slightly muffled: H-HEY! I SAID LET ME GO DAMNIT! *cautiously reaches for bag and touches it before ripping it off*

Jaune, immediately turning to the door and banging on it: I SWEAR TO GOD YOU GUYS BETTER LET ME OUT OF HERE RIGHT NOW! WHAT KINDA FUCKED SOCIAL EXPERIMENT IS THIS?! *continue banging*

Jaune, continuing his assault on the door: MY MOM’S A LAWYER BY THE WAY! SHE’LL SUE YOUR ASSES, I SWEAR IT! SHE’LL SUE YOUR ASS SO HARD THAT WE’LL GET FINANCIAL CONPENSATION FROM YOUR DAMN GRAND KIDS! *bangs louder* YOU HEAR ME! HELLO.....IM SERIOUS.....nobody can hear me, can they?

Pyrrha: I can hear you.

*Jaune squeaks loudly before getting in a karate stance while turning to see a tall redhead girl around his age with vivid green eyes sitting on a bed*

Jaune, internally: What the fuck?! How long has she been here?!

Pyrrha, awkwardly waving: Hello.

Jaune, awkwardly waving back: Uh..hi.

*an awkward silence fall on the two, with the blonde slightly blushing and the redhead staring at him with interest*

Jaune, internally: Holy shit, she’s pretty. My god, she absolutely stunning. She has got to be the prettiest girl I’ve seen in my li— Wait Wait, Jauney-Boy, you're getting side tracked. What the fuck is going on in here, and why did those guys put me in a room with a very hot girl with really long and smooth legs— GAH, HORMONES THERE ARE MORE IMPORTANT MATTERS TO ATTEND TO!

Pyrrha: *giggles while slightly blushing*

Jaune, terrified:......w-was I t-talking out loud?

Pyrrha: Hmm? Oh no. *smiles teasingly* Why? What were you thinking about?

Jaune, voice cracking: N-nothing. Nothing at— *clears throat* H-hey, I’m Jaune.

Pyrrha, smiling: Pyrrha, charmed.

Jaune, internally: Wow, even her name is pretty.

Pyrrha: *snickers cutely*

*Jaune looks around to see what she’s snickering at to see nothing*

Jaune, shrugging it off: So uhm....they tricked you with the social experiment, huh?

*Pyrrha thinks for a moment, before a coy smile gets plastered on her lips*

Pyrrha: Yeah, you can say something like that.

Jaune: Damn. Who the hell are these people, and you have any idea what they even want from us?

Pyrrha, shaking her head: Your guess is as good as mine.

Jaune, sighing: Great. Isn’t today just wonderful. Should’ve known that offer was too good to be true. *slide his back against the wall until he’s sitting* Teach me not to read documents people tell me to sign.

*MEANWHILE, SOMETIME LATER*

Cinder, sighing: Wow, great plan, Roman. We are learning things about her so fast.

Roman: This takes patience, Cinder.

Cinder, frustrated: The boy haven’t even said anything to her for the past 5 minutes! He’s just sitting his ass on the floor. The boy is socially handicapped!

Roman: That’s not my fault! You're the one who pick him!

Cinder: Well you were the one to make this stupid plan in the first place! How will the boy even ask her about her powers in the first place if he doesn't even know that he needs to ask?!

Roman: Geez, I don't know! How did I know about you being an only child?

Cinder: Be—

Roman: Because I asked you as a curious person who wants to know about my friend! Now believe it or but if I got under the assumption that you started reading my mind, you bet your ass I would ask you about it, especially if I was trapped in a small room with you!

Cinder: But why would SCP-312 answer the question if she knows what we're trying to—

Roman, urgently: Hush! Something's happening!

*MEANWHILE*

Jaune: *has been moving uncomfortably on the floor for the past 5 minutes*

Pyrrha, scooting in her bed: Hey, you wanna sit next to me? The floor looks pretty uncomfortable.

Jaune: Really? You're alright with that?

Pyrrha, smiling warmly: Of course. The bed's large enough. *Pat beside her* Here.

Jaune, slightly blushing: O-oh, Uh, sure then. Thanks.

*Jaune walks over to the bed before sitting down, his cheeks crimsoning*

Pyrrha: There, is that better?

Jaune: Y-yeah. T-thanks.

Pyrrha: Youre welcome:

*Once again the room fall to silence as the boy looks everywhere but at the very attractive girl he's shoulder to shoulder with*

Jaune, internally: God, what's wrong with me?! I just got kidnnapped yet I'm more worried about this super hot girl sitting next to me! I can barely form coherent sentences around her! Damn, my hands are all sweaty too! She's so close! I can feel her body warmth! Just calm down, Jauney. Calm down already. Take a deep breath, and try to strike up a conversation with her. This silence is deafening.

Jaune, taking a deep breath: So, what—

Pyrrha: *Facing Jaune with a warm smile*

Jaune, voice wavering: —y-y-your.......*turns away in embarrassment*

Jaune, internally: For god sake! I can’t get used to that smile! It’s like beautiful personified. God damnit. I need to keep a conversation going, at least until those guys come back! Okay think! What did mom tell me about talking to girls?

A memory starts playing inside Jaune’s head with his mother’s voice: Remember Sweetie, women love wedding rings, but they love babies more.

Jaune, internally:.....is...is that it?! Really?! That’s literally the only advice my mother has ever given more for girls. How the hell is baby propaganda supposed to help me in this situation?! What kinda— okay, calm down. I have another parent. What did dad tell me?

Another memory starts playing in Jaune’s head, this time with his father’s voice: Son, I have absolutely no idea how I managed to make your mother fall for me. I am not the man you should be asking. You’ll probably have a better shot asking the stars that question.

Jaune, internally:.........I’m going to die alone, aren’t I? My parents managed to make the opposite sex so completely alien to me, despite me having 7 sisters! What he actual fuck?! This is an absolute disaster! This can’t get any worst!

*Jaune then remembers one crucial detail of the predicament he’s in*

Jaune, internally: OH GOD! I FORGOT I WAS ALSO KIDNAPPED! WHAT THE FUCK EVEN IS TODAY?! I’M PROBABLY GOING TO DIE IN HERE AND I CANT EVEN STRIKE UP A CONVERSATION WITH THE GIRL WHO WILL POSSIBLY DIE WITH ME! I AM A DISGRACE TO EVERY ARC TO EVER LIVE! I CAN FEEL MY ANCESTORS LOOKING AT ME WITH DISGUST! OH GOD! WHAT THE—

*Suddenly Jaune’s nerves instantly drop and a calm aura surrounds him, almost like it just completely disappeared and got replace with an warm and inviting energy*

Jaune, confused: Huh?

*The weight on Jaune’s hand then became evident, as he looked down and found Pyrrha’s hand gently lying on his, almost reassuringly*

Jaune, slightly blushing:.........

Pyrrha, in soothing tone: So, tell me about yourself.

Jaune, no longer feeling nervous for a reason he doesn’t know why:...........well, I just graduated from college.

*MEANWHILE*

Cinder, frantically: WRITE THAT DOEN, WRITE THAT DOWN!

Roman, equally as frantic: I AM! I AM!

#rwby #pyrrha nikos #Jaune arc #arkos #pyrrha x jaune

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marvelsbanner · 4 years ago

Text

Body, Mind, and Soul

Prompt: there simply needs to be more vision fic out there🥺 may i request a cute one where you've been going out for a while but the big L word hasn't been said yet and vis is just.. trying his best to tell you but doesn't know how🥺🥺 he's just so cute like that😭❤️ kissy i love ur stuff

Pairing: Vision x reader

Warnings: Slight language, tooth rotting fluff - beware of cavities

Word Count: ~1700

A/n: Reblogs, likes, and feedback are very much appreciated! <3 All mistakes are my own!

**I do not own marvel, sadly** **not my gif**

“Darling, may I speak with you for a moment?”

Vision phased through your walls to where you were sitting on your bed reading. Months ago you would have jumped straight out of your bones, startled by the synthezoid’s intrusion and lack of personal boundaries. In all honestly, it was no sooner after you had explained the concept of privacy and simple manners to Vision that you had come to look forward to his visits, not caring if he was intruding as long as he came to see you at all.

It was strange, you’ll admit- very strange. You were the newest Avenger recruit, and the youngest (if you didn’t count that he was technically born a little over a year ago? He had the wisdom of a thousand year old sorcerer, so you didn’t think of him as younger) and so he had a naturally protective nature about him when it came to you.

He always tried to be by your side during missions, saving your ass on multiple occasions. He never made you feel weak or like you needed protecting, but he was just always there for you. Not just in missions, but in everything. Joining the Avengers was a life changing decision that was not easy in any sense. You didn’t exactly have the prettiest past, which is partially what landed you there in the first place. You knew that none of the members there were exactly saints, but you couldn’t help but feel like you didn’t deserve the new chance at life you were given. Not to mention you had been hearing about the Avengers for years now, and in your mind it was hard to take them off of this pedestal of superhero-assassin-gods to simple coworkers and family.

Vision could sense your uneasiness, they all could really- but he had no filter and no sense of boundaries and was the only one to confront you about it. You were taken aback at first, but it was truly exactly what you needed.

He would bring dinner to your room, offering to sit with you as you ate- even though he didn’t need to himself. He brought you DVDs, claiming Wanda told him that they were what lifted her mood. When that didn’t work he tried bringing some old records that Tony recommended, eventually bringing some books from Steve’s “project modernization” stash that peaked your interest. Some nights he would sit with you as you read, reading over your shoulder or watching something on the tv, just content to be in your presence. You never asked him to, and you never asked why, but you also never asked him to leave.

The dynamic between the two of was certainly an unlikely one, Steve even asking you at one point if he needed to tell the Synthezoid to back off before you assured him that it was fine.

Somewhere along the way you found yourself falling for Vision, utterly terrified and mortified over the uncertainty of if he could even feel those kinds of feelings towards anyone in return. But then you would hear him laugh at one of your jokes, a real hearty laugh when the joke wasn’t even that funny- or that smile, that god damn smile that stretched across his entire face with those pearly whites that made your heart flutter in your chest, or even worse- the small, shy smile that he would give you when he didn’t think you could see him that brought a faint blush to your cheeks every time. It was in those moments you let yourself feel a slimmer of hope that he could maybe, just maybe feel the same way.

He eventually figures out that he feels the same as well, after a long conversation he had with Tony and Bruce over whether those feelings should even be possible for him or not. He decides that whether or not he should be able to, he most definitely did, and suddenly fleeting glances and stolen cozy nights turned into hands intertwined under the table during meetings and stolen kisses in the compound halls.

A year later and everyone knows that it’s never just y/n or Vision, you get the both of you or neither of you, because you were a team.

About a month after the two of you had confessed your feelings Vis had asked you to “go steady”, it was adorable really- he said he saw it in a movie and thought it was what most human couples still did, and he was so nervous and flustered and cute you couldn’t help but say yes.

Boyfriend and girlfriend, partners in crime, lovers- whatever you wanted to call it, you were. The labels didn’t matter, all that mattered was that you knew how you felt about each other. At least, you hoped you did.

Vis had been acting strangely lately. He seemed more nervous around you; he was stuttering and losing his train of thought- he would sometimes act like he had something important to say and would end up saying nothing at all. Sometimes he would bring you flowers out of nowhere or prepare a meal he knew you loved, just to disappear for the rest of the night and you weren’t sure what to make of it. Sometimes he would babble on and on about some sort of poetic metaphor and ask if you understood what he meant and when you didn’t he would just tell you to pretend he said nothing at all.

So there he was, phasing through your wall and asking to talk and you could see a large bouquet of roses behind his hand and you weren’t sure whether to be excited or scared or all of the above, so you simply dog-eared your book and set it aside, patting the empty side of the bed next to you for him to sit.

He settled on the floor before walking over to the side of the bed and sitting, revealing the bouquet of flowers fully before shyly offering them to you.

“I was informed bouquets are a romantic gesture appropriate for such occasions” he explained, hands fidgeting as he spoke, not making eye contact with you.

“And what occasion is that?” You inquire, quirking a brow at his behavior.

“Ah yes that, right, well..” He started before opening and closing his mouth a few times, unsure of how to go on.

“Darling, I don’t have much to go on with this in terms of past experience- this is all very new to me as you know, however, I have come to understand that there is a certain point in relationships, romantic relationships that is, where the feelings that one has for the other might start to change.” He explains, fingers continuing to fidget and pull at another.

“Vis.. if this is you wanting a break from me, from us- flowers don’t exactly portray that message clearly..” You reply, anxiety beginning to settle in your chest.

As soon as you say that, any worries at what he could be implying flood your mind as his face fills with distress.

“Oh no- darling, no, that’s not what I was getting at at all!” He hurriedly says, setting the flowers on the bed and taking your hands in his own. “No no, it’s quite the opposite actually! See, I’ve been wanting to tell you this for quite a while, months even! But I wasn’t sure when a good time would be, and no article online could give me a set answer and I didn’t know how you felt- I thought I did sometimes but other times I just couldn’t be sure and then on this last mission when you almost got hurt and I couldn’t bear the thought that-“ you cut off his rambling by taking his cold face in your hands, “Vis hunny, slow down. What is it you want to tell me?” You ask, finally getting him to meet your eyes. He looked more nervous now than he had been for any mission in the past.

He hands came up to rest atop your own on his face, intertwining your fingers together as he spoke softly, “Well darling, I just- I just thought, we’ve been together for quite some time now, and I think I can safely say- maybe- I hope- that neither one of us want to be letting this go anytime soon and I, well I just thought you ought to know that I love you.”

A smile immediately pulled at your lips, you had been so afraid just a moment ago that he wanted nothing to do with you and there he was, telling you that he wanted everything to do with you. You wanted to say it back, you wanted to scream it out but he was sitting there with his big anxious doe eyes and a small, nervous smile as he awaits for your answer and suddenly all your words fail you- so you pull him in to a kiss instead.

It was sweet but not chaste, lips firmly planted against each other as you fought the urge to cry because he was so perfect and you felt more loved than you had ever felt before. Your hands clutched the sides of his face as he planted his on your shoulder blades, bringing you closer to him but never too forcefully- always giving you the option to retreat, but you never take it, and you never will.

The two of you finally part, gasping for air as he searches your eyes to gouge your reaction and finds a singular stray tear, chasing it away with a swipe of his finger.

“So, may I assume that this may be reciprocated?” He asks shyly and you laugh, the two of you laugh together with big smiles and open hearts and you assure him “Yes, Vis, I love you, I love you too. Body, mind, and soul.”

“Body, mind, and soul.” He repeats, a smile forming at his lips before he pulls you in for another kiss, the rest of the world melting away until it felt like only the two of you, like it was always meant to be.

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a-cupof-jo · 3 years ago

Text

Dyspnea

Parings: Potion Master!Jaehyun X Medicinal Herbalist!Reader

Genre: Fluff, Intended Angst, Magic!au

WC: 4.1K

Warnings: magic inaccuracies, food mentioned, tiny bit suggestive

For @ficscafe fic scenario event!

Summary: The candle flickered as Jaehyun’s breath caught the flame. The life you two lived together was simple, but he wouldn’t change anything about it, “Happy birthday, Jaehyun. Make a wish.” The flame flickered out. He hadn’t known it then, but he should have used that wish more wisely.

Prompt: 38. When they test out a love potion on their partner.

It wasn’t fair that so many people get to enjoy this day while he is stuck behind the shuttered windows dark shadows. He doesn’t hate this day. How could he? It was Valentine's day- and his birthday but that never mattered. Not to the everyday people who slip through his door hours before this day begins. He can’t blame them. For they came in search of something only he can provide.

Love.

Or at least some figment of love. For some it was a way to prove their love. Others used it to try and get their long time crush to like them back. Jaehyun can’t help but laugh every time a young teenager pushes open the door to his shop for the nth time that week saying that they wanted to test this “love potion” on another person. Of course he doesn’t give them a full love potion. Just something diluted down closer to an addictive, like honey. It barely lasts 15 minutes.

He hears a bell chime from the other room. Whipping his hands on his apron he walks through the separating doorway. “I’m sorry,” he glances toward a cracked window that no longer had sunlight gleaming through it. “I am actually closed.”

“Oh,” a man just shorter than Jaehyun stood in the middle of the room. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize. I’ll just come back tomorrow.” He bit his lip lightly glancing around the room.

“Nonsense,” Jaehyun waved his hand. “You are already here. Might as well make good of the trip. Besides. I don’t mind.” He grinned at the man, trying to ease the tension that laced through the newcomers face.

The man sighed before stepping closer, “I still feel bad.”

“Don’t,” Jaehyun gave a light laugh. “Gives me something better to do than stir pots,” he watched the man warily as the sentence left his lips. “Magical beings” were still a wary subject for some people even if they had been able to practice in the open for nearly 50 years now. When the man just gave him a small smile Jaehyun stepped behind the counter that held his potions and elixirs. “What can I help you find today Mr…”

“Oh, Lee. But just call me Taeyong,” he waved his hand around peering through the glass at the display. “Well here’s my situation.” He glanced up at Jaehyun. “I have a date coming up and my date said there is this potion that allowed a person to change their hair color just by drinking it,” Taeyong looked amazed as he stared up at Jaehyun. “I wanted to try it out for our next date. That, and I’m not sure how much more bleaching my scalp can go through.” He combed his hand through his hair giving it a light tug at the bangs afterwards.

Jaehyun grimaced as he watched the straw like strands fall back into place, “Well you’re where you need to be. I have a lot of potions for that.” He moved down the row to where a shelf full of colorful bottles filled every inch. “There’s all of these, plus I can also create other colors if you don’t see one you like here.”

Taeyong peered back through the glass eyes wide with wonder. He glanced around the box a few times. "What about white?" He rested a hand over a bottle he assumed to hold the potion.

Jaehyun grinned, "One of my best sellers." Reaching for a little black jar Jaehyun scan the man. He would obviously look good with white hair. He probably looks good with any color of hair. "You just want to try the white?"

Taeyong hummed a second glancing toward the moonlit window, "Yes, just the white."

Jaehyun set the bottle is a small leather pouch, "2 shillings." The coins clinked as rested on the counter. "Enjoy! Have a good night." He watched the thin man walk through the door and past the window before latching the door shut. Taeyong had been pleasant and kind but Jaehyun couldn't help but be slightly peeved with the man. Unlatching the door he peeked his head out; he glanced to his left and, yes, there was still the sign with hours stating 'Dawn to Dusk' hanging off the building.

The moon was bright tonight and he couldn’t help but stare at it. How could it be that a ball of rock could bring him such peace. Maybe it was just the ambiance, but a little part of him wants to believe that there's a little man that lives on that moon and watches over the earth. It might seem ridiculous, but he could brew color changing elixirs and make people fall in love, so it couldn’t be that far fetched.

“Happy birthday, sweetie,” Jaehyun jumped lightly as arms wrapped around him from behind. He sighed as you placed your chin on his shoulder. “Sorry I wasn’t back earlier. I got stuck talking to Johnny at the market.” Your finger traced little patterns on his stomach as you both stood in the dimly lit doorway. “Come on, I’ll make dinner.” You pulled at his arm. Jaehyun closed his eyes taking a deep breath of clear night air before turning and giving you a soft smile. “I may have something for you. You know, considering it is valentines day.”

“Only because it’s valentines day,” He raised an eyebrow at you as you glided through the small store.

You were once an enigma to him. Someone he couldn’t reach, couldn’t touch. Your brother, adoptive brother, Johnny was Jaehyun’s best friend growing up. You were the aloof younger sister that Jaehyun hardly knew about until you made it to your apprenticeship. For as long as Jaehyun had known you, you’d have always been enamored by plants and flowers. So, when he found out you were studying herbal medicine, he wasn’t surprised.

“Of course, what other day would it be,” you gave him a small smile as you stood near the pot Jaehyun had previously been working at.

Jaehyun's relationship with you had been moments of fleeting looks, paths crossing, and unspoken rules. Two lives bending and swaying, following the same path, but never touching. Until you broke the pattern, you veered off course.

He had just finished his apprenticeship with the, now retired, potions master Kim. Mr. Kim had taken Jaehyun in from a young age, raising him when Jaehyun’s parents decided they didn’t want anything to do with someone containing magical properties. Johnny had planned a small party congratulating Jaehyun on his success. He didn’t know you were going to be there. Even if you were Johnny’s sibling you never showed anything but indifference to Jaehyun. Music had played from a small group of boys too loud for the space they were in.

You had sauntered over, a small flute of champagne dangling from your fingertips. "Can you do it?" Jaehyun had been surprised by your bluntness. "Take over for Kim. There's gonna be a lot of pressure," you noted, not unkindly.

"There will be, but Mr. Kim wouldn't let me take over if he didn't have at least some confidence in my abilities," he swiped the glass from your hand and swallowed down the contents. "Besides, he's still going to be around. He hasn't cut me loose yet."

You grabbed his hand in yours and tugged him towards the outskirts of dancing people, "A dance?" You didn't wait for a response as you twirled him closer to the center of the floor.

Jaehyun was not surprised at your fluid movements. Johnny had always bragged about how his sister was a natural dancer and the best in their city, perhaps the world. He smiled at you now sharing Johnny's sentiments. You gave him a small grin in return as the music died, "You're going to be great."

A whoop went up from one of the musicians, Donghyuck, Jaehyun's brain supplied. Your grin grew as you raised your voice in a louder whoop. Jaehyun watched as the sentimental atmosphere changed. You grabbed his hands leading him to a lively dance, "Beside, you can't fail, not when I'm just a few doors down."

"You mean cause Ms. Joy is a few doors down," Jaehyun teasing corrected.

You shake your head at him, "I'll be a few doors down."

You were, and a line that you didn't know existed between you both was crossed. Jaehyun wasn't sure who started the late night rendezvous or the unspoken pact of always standing by each other, but turned into late night talks which turned into early morning coffee, and later, shared lunches.

You guys fell into a rhythm, a three year rhythm that morphed into passing kisses, soft hugs, mornings of gentle coaxing and nights of soft loving.

Jaehyun wrapped his arms around you glancing into the pot full of a clear liquid, thicker than water and smelled of sweet syrup, "Busy?"

You spun to face him shaking your head as you fixed the collar of his shirt, "Everyone was too busy being in love to be worried about visiting me.”

“Ah, the prettiest healer on the street doesn’t have love on this day,” Jaehyun furrowed his brow. “I knew this would happen. You would leave me because I have given love to everyone but you.”

You gave him a light giggle kissing the corner of his mouth, “I would never leave you.” You spin out of his arms walking further towards the house that sat behind the shop. “You are my soulmate,” you gave Jaehyun a look full of adoration and love.

Jaehyun was sure that his face read the same, “My perfect half.”

You motioned for him to follow you, “Come, I made something for you.”

“Made something for me,” Jaehyun stepped into the small living areas entryway. “What is the occasion?”

“It’s Valentine's Day,” you had shrugged, pulling a large dutch oven out of the convection oven. You turned and furrowed your brows at him, “and I think there’s something else going on today. Any idea what that is?”

Jaehyun shrugged, “None that I can think of.”

“Hmm,” you opened the lid letting more of the aroma fill the room. Your mouth popped open in mock surprise, “Oh, that’s right. It’s your birthday.” You placed vegetables on the table before scooping up some hot soup. You widen your eyes at him, humor dancing through them, “I can’t believe I forgot about it. Especially because I got you something special.”

“Something special?” Jaehyun placed cups on the small table as you set down the plates. “Where is it?”

You grinned and leaned in close to his ear, “That’s for me to know and you to find.” You laughed as Jaehyun let out a choked breath and scanned you up and down. “Now, let’s eat. You’re going to need all of your energy.”

“You are going to be the death of me,” Jaehyun gave an astonished laugh grinning as you sat across from him placing a small cupcake in front of him.

The candle flickered as Jaehyun’s breath caught the flame. The life you two lived together was simple but he wouldn’t change anything about it, “Happy birthday, Jaehyun. Make a wish.” The flame flickered out. He hadn’t known it then, but he should have used that wish more wisely.

Jaehyun hummed under his breath as the sun shone through his shop's open windows. Spring was just around the corner and Jaehyun’s happy mood couldn’t be dimmed. Warm bright weather brought in more customers. More customers meant that he was busier, and brought in more revenue, but mostly he was busier. That was one reason Jaehyun loved his job. He was working with his hands all day. There was never a moment where he was bored.

He watched as a little boy walked between the two aisles the shop held. It wasn’t much, but the little trinkets and common potions that lined the shelves made Jaehyun proud of how far he had come. He could still picture the small store from when he was around the young boy's age. Laughter sounded through the store as the boy tried to escape his mother's hands. "Have a good day!" Jaehyun watched the giggling pair walk out the front door. Turning to the backroom he sighed looking at the pot that sat there.

The weeks he had spent trying to develop a new love potion was wasted as he, once again, failed. Since before Valentines day, now nearly 2 weeks ago, he had been cooped up in that backroom, trying to find a better love concoction. You, while fully willing, were starting to become an annoyed test subject. Jaehyun couldn't help but get testy when you complained about the new love potion. If you were gonna tell him it wasn't good or right then maybe you could give some ideas on how to fix it. Maybe he just needs to find a new test subject. Jaehyun looked through the list of love potions and ingredients that he had already used. Too many, he scowled down at the pages and pages of notes he had made on each variety of potion he had made.

"Hello," he heard the little bell connected to the front door ring and someone walked around the shop, obviously looking for him.

Jaehyun sighed, rolled his shoulders back and tried to put on his best smile, "Hi, what can I help you with- Oh Taeyong. Hello." Jaehyun scanned the man in front of him. "The white looks good."

Taeyong reached up and ran a hand through his bright white hair, "Thanks. I love it and so did my date." He tapped his index fingers together as he walked back up to the counter full of the colored potions. "I wanted to try more."

Jaehyun smiled as the man scanned the rows, "We've plenty to choose from."

Taeyong narrowed his eyes, concentrating on different colors. He eyes flickered up and met Jaehyun's, "I can't decide. What do you think? What would look good?"

"He looks great in pink," a hand wrapped around his bicep. "He knows it too, but not many can pull it off well. You might be able to," Jaehyun grinned at you. While you were right about pink being a difficult color to pull off, you knew more than that, the pink dye was the hardest one to make. Which is why when Jaehyun glanced down at the box, he saw only 2 pink vials while the others had at least 10. "What about red? Maybe a green?"

Taeyong watched the two of you share another quick look. Clearing his throat slightly he looked down in the box again. "Red and green," he nodded his head. "Yes, I think I'll try those. One of each, please."

Jaehyun grabbed the two vials and placed them both in a leather patch that you held open, "Okay, 4 shillings." Taeyong placed the coins in Jaehyun's hand. "Have a good day!"

"You too," Taeyong gave a half hearted wave.

Jaehyun sighed as your arms wrapped fully around him, “What’s up?” Your eyebrows furrowed as you stared at his face, your eyes fluted around looking for an answer.

“I still can’t get this potion right,” he ran his hands up and down your arms. Jaehyun felt you press closer to you, your hands started running up and down his sides. “I want something different, something that shows who you are supposed to love, but how are you supposed to know that.”

“Soulmates.” Jaehyun startled as the voice rang through the shop. He turned to glare at the man who had made him jump, “Sorry.” Taeyong raised his hands. “I didn’t mean to intrude or overstay my welcome, but I can’t help but be fascinated by all of this. And also you can’t really-”

“It’s fine,” your arms dropped away from Jaehyun. You finger tapped your chin as you considered Taeyong words, “Soulmates… that may work, but, how could you put something like a soulmate indicator in a love potion.”

Jaehyun tapped his hands on the counter. Soulmates, while not nonexistent, hadn’t been thought about in decades. In fact, Jaehyun didn't know the first thing about finding soulmates or even if he believed in them. It’s not not very plausible, he can’t just give someone a potion and tell them that it will give them their soulmate. There's more to it than that. More to love and being in love then just having souls destined to be together, "I can't do that." He shakes his head at the two who had continued to excitedly discuss the topic. He watched as their faces morphed to disbelief and disappointment.

Your hands came up to rest on your hips, "And why not."

Jaehyun reached into the glass cabinet rearranging vials and avoiding eye contact, "There's no way I can reveal soulmates. Too many indicators and no defiant way to squeeze all of those into one potion. Soulmates and their indicators have been hidden for years and it's rare that people ever find or want to be with their soulmate. Besides, there are too many variables."

"Too many variables," you gave a light scoff.

"What if you didn't give them a way to instantly reveal their soulmate," Taeyong cut in. "What if, instead, you revealed soulmate indicators or made them stronger."

"What do you mean," Jaehyun sighed. He knew they weren't going to give this up. The hope and excitement in their eyes made Jaehyun more hesitant to even consider creating this potion.

Taeyong walked closer to the counter where Jaehyun and you stood. “Soulmates, they are predestined, we can’t control or decide who they are or how we get paired. Now, many of us don’t meet our soulmates, the bonds aren’t as strong and people can find people they truly love. What if you strengthen the bonds? Revealed them?” Taeyong lifted his hand wiggling his fingers. “Sometimes I think I feel a tug on my hand, especially when I am at home alone. I can’t help but wonder if, hope, it’s my soulmate.”

You watched him, an unfamiliar look in your eyes. Slowly you turned to Jaehyun and grabbed his right hand in both of yours, “Please Jaehyun, you can do this, we can do this. Help others find their soulmate, their perfect half.” Your eyes pleaded with him.

It really wasn’t fair. You knew that he would do anything for you, and you used that against him. Jaehyun sighed, “Okay, I’ll try. If you think this will work I’m willing to work on it.” Jaehyun couldn’t help the small smile that graced his face as you gave him a hug cheering along with Taeyong. He watched as you danced around the room bidding goodbye as you ran back to work. Taeyong also raced out of the shop, saying something about a ruby and some fish. As he watched the door swing shut the smile dropped his face. He couldn’t help the dread that filled his stomach and the distinct feeling that this would not end well.

Jaehyun stirred the sweet smelling syrup again. This was his fifth attempt at this potion. By this point he was frustrated. Nothing was working, all he kept making were diluted love potions, potions that made eyes change colors when they saw their loved ones, and a potion that made your heart glow from inside your chest. Both you and Jaehyun had been disturbed by the last potion. He had spent two weeks trying to figure this out. Both Taeyong and you had been helping when and where you could. You would get herbs and plants of magical origins, guiding and helping with the new ones that Jaehyun hadn’t seen before. Whereas, Taeyong would stir the potions or gather, obscure, ingredients- fairy dust, dwarf warts, pegasus hoof shavings. While impressive, Jaehyun was too scared to ask Taeyong how he got all real, authentic these ingredients or knew about all of these ingredients. As far as Jaehyun knew, Taeyong wasn’t a magic user. Though he wouldn’t be surprised if he descended from fairies or mermaids.

He sighed as the potion bubbled the mugwort he just dropped in hissed as it blended, “Make a potion, they said. It will help people, they said.” He pulled out another vial. He had it simply labeled “love”. A base potion that he used when creating all his love potions, but this wasn’t a love potion, not truly. People don’t fall in love because of it, they may not even be able to find love because of it. With that thought in mind he set the base potion down and pulled out a different potion. It’s more medicinal, healing than anything else. It was the first potion that you and Jaehyun had made together. A potion that could heal a bond. Chi bonds specifically. Maybe it would work. If he broke it down to its core parts and mixed it with the current love potion or maybe the one that made your heart glow just a few nights ago.

Jaehyun jumped from his seat racing around the room grabbing ingredients and writing down ratios and doses. The smell of linens and irises filled the room. Jaehyun could help but feel comfort from the two smells. It smelled like you. Like a warm day under the sun laying in the little meadow sitting on the outskirts of town.

“It smells so good here,” Jaehyun looked up as you entered the room. You closed your eyes inhaling a deep breath. “Like just after it rains and…” you took another deep breath, “and roses.”

Jaehyun tilted his head. That was interesting. The scent was different to everyone. Maybe it was a comforting scent or the scent of your beloved. It may have worked this time. Jaehyun stirred the pot a few more times before turning off the heat, “I just need to let it cool now.”

You walked closer to him peering down into the now pale yellow potion, “You think it worked this time?”

Jaehyun wrapped an arm around your waist. He shrugged, his chin coming to rest on your shoulder, “Maybe. I tried something different this time. It may do the trick.”

You hummed as he swayed you both back and forth, “That’s good. I’m really glad that you decided to make this. Soulmates were intended to be together, to have each other and we’ve moved so far from that.” You reached up and played with his hair twirling it between your fingers a few times, “I know that it doesn’t really matter, but I’d like to know, to confirm what I know, you’re my soulmate.”

Jaehyun was so in love with you. So ready to spend the rest of his days with you. He took another deep breath, linens and irises, “My better half.” He kissed under your ear before moving to grab a ladle from beside the pot, “Would you like to ladle or hold the bottles.” You grabbed the ladle from him motioning to move closer to the pot. “Would you like to know what I used this time? What the heart of this potion?” He watched you nod your head urging him to continue, “Our first potion.” Your head shot up surprise lighting up every feature. Jaehyun laughed, “I still remember you rushing in here and demanding I help you. You had never had to make a medicinal potion for a chi before. I hadn’t either, but that didn’t stop us from trying. Maybe we were lucky, or maybe it was fate because that day I feel deeply and madly in love with you. You unlocked my ability to love.”

You stood still. Face slack jawed but eyes full of love, “You’re such a dork.” Jaehyun couldn’t say anything before you were in his arms, lips on his, and arms wrapped around his shoulders. “I love you.”

“I love you,” Jaehyun grinned at you, pulling further away from you. He looked over at the now empty pot. “Now, rock, paper, scissors for who has to drink the potion.” He held his hand up in a fist.

“Fine,” You rolled your eyes at him. “Rock, paper, scissors.” You sighed as he held up scissors motioning to cut through your paper. “Fine,” you picked up the small vial tilting it in a small cheers before drinking the liquid inside.

Jaehyun waited, the air tense around the two of you. A bell rang, but he didn’t pay any attention to it. A small red string pulled at your previously bare pinkie, “Hey guys! What’s going on. It smells so good here, like fresh linen and Irises. Are you guys back he- oh.” The string led past Jaehyun and tugged tight where Taeyong stood, his hand lifted in surprise.

Tag List: @qianinterprises @stayctday @infnteen

#ficscafe scenario event #ficscafe #k-dinernet #knet-bakery #jaehyun x reader #jaehyun fluff #jaehyun angst #soulmate au #magic au

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jjkpls · 4 years ago

Text

first love (m)

genre : fluff, angst, light smut

pairing : kim seokjin x reader (f)

word count : 4.6k

warnings/content : mentions of sexual intercourse, mature language, infidelity, separated parents, unresolved past relationship, dad!seokjin, mom!reader

Seokjin doesn't mean to overreact. He knows he shouldn't. Knows you hate it. Knows, because he's been told enough times, that these types of reactions are unnecessary and possibly harmful for a child.

He can't really help it when deep down he knows he was meant to be an actor. Right before his actual birthday, his mother had dreamt of giving birth on a theatre stage, for God's sake.

But his father wasn't into it, given his ambitions, his own growing company and all the promising opportunities he envisioned both for him and for his only son. Therefore Seokjin went to law school, graduated with excellent mentions, followed an accelerated program in business development and managing and joined his father exactly where he was expected.

He isn't exactly complaining.

He likes his job, most of the time, likes the money and luxury that come with it especially and appreciates the work safety.

Now, you can't blame him for being quite the drama queen in his everyday life. All that pent up, buried alive passion for the arts of acting need to express, somehow.

That's what he'd say to you when you used to yell at him for starting weeping loudly in your ear when he'd call you to cancel a date last minute because he couldn't come, instead of just, cancelling it, aplogize, get over it like a normal person.

Or when you'd kick him in the ribs because he'd be all wild gestures and screeching screams when he'd teach your son to ride a bike and he would fall, as he should to learn, making the boy cry even when he wasn't hurt, solely from the projection of his dad's fear.

You're not here to tell him yourself but the glazed, annoyed roll of his son's eyes tells him precisely what you would. Those eyes are the worst. The prettiest he's ever seen. The ones he loves the most. The ones you also wear on your own pretty face.

"Since when?" He has a hand pressed to his chest, preventing a heart attack it seems, gaze wide and alarmed. Timothy sighs.

"A while. They were already together for Valentine's Day-" He explains patiently. That kid is sweet. The way he's slumped over, obviously annoyed to have to be the one telling his dad and having to deal with the consequences but still, he's watching over him with a soft eye, mouth torn in a sympathetic pout. He wouldn't mind his parents to get back together even though he is almost sure it wouldn't be a good idea for the both of you. He's heard tales of dysfunctional families, of parents hurting each other and their children and doesn't want that for any of you. He can't imagine it happen. You two are too good for that. That's probably why you had decided to separate in the first place.

Seokjin is quickly making maths in his head. Not really counting the time but situating himself in that time frame. Where was he at when she was out with this guy? What was he doing?

He may have been in Japan when it started. He remembers a call from you, you were asking him to take Timothy for a couple of days. You sounded embarrassed and he didn't know why but couldn't take the time to investigate, he had a flight expecting him and a conference call waiting to start in a couple of minutes. Important stuff. None of it would have mattered if he had known what you were up to.

"You okay, dad?" Timothy asks, awkward but kind. His mom basically.

"Devastated." Seokjin says with the widest grin on his face. He's not devastated. It'd be ridiculous to be for something absolutely predictable, fair and normal. He's not mad, nor disappointed. You deserve to be seeing people, have them desire you and make you feel good. He wishes it were him but if he can't do that, if you won't let him, he's glad you still can allow someone else to do it.

He's surprised though, he can't lie about that.

Honestly. That's stupid. But he didn't expect one second that you were seeing someone. You never mentioned anything and you didn't look like it. If there's a way you look when you're dating.

He remembers rosy cheeks and short skirts. You were younger.

"You think it's serious?" He asks casually, surprising even himself. His heart is in a turmoil but he showed enough to Timothy, acting like he was half dying, gasping for air and all.

"I don't know. She doesn't want to bring him home yet. Like, introduce him to me. I asked." Timothy, not only is he nice, he is smart. He's thirteen, shouldn't know much about Love and adults' matters yet. He's supposed to still be at that stage when one believes children and adults are two very distinctive race of humans, one that depends on the other and the other having it all figured it out, having reached a certain knowledge and expertise on all things and can't really be wrong on accident.

Timothy knows precisely what his dad would love to hear. And he gives it to him. Not to feed him vain hopes. Not even for this tiny hidden greed to have you back together. Simply because it's the truth and if for once the truth is pleasant to hear, then he should give it. Seokjin's smile only gets brighter. He shares a glance with his son, a glint winking his way and Timothy rolls his eyes, unable to hide the lift of the corners of his lips.

"Anyway, I heard you won that science fair at school?" Seokjin has already left his seat on Timothy's bed. He's rummaging through his leather bag and Timothy knows what it means. He has a present for him. Seokjin always has a present for him. Most of the time, he can justify it by some event or some success Timothy had encountered. The thing is they don't see each other that often, therefore, almost systematically, something new has come about and Seokjin can explain why he's brought a brand new console, a new laptop, a TV for his room or that one limited edition of this way too expensive branded pair of sneakers.

You used to get really mad at that. You'd say that he shouldn't, that he didn't need to bring him all these expensive stuff because what he'd like (it was a long time ago when Timothy was too young to have his own opinion and you would speak for him) is for his dad to be here more often. You'd say he wouldn't have to buy him shit for any other times than Christmas and his birthday if only he could be here for him. His dad would be his present.

It caused a lot of drama, a lot of crying. You had made sure not to scream, not to be too angry but Timothy felt from the way you squeezed him hard against your bosom that you were very upset. His dad had apologized, had said the most with his eyes only for you to understand. Timothy was staring, trying to get it too because he was involved, wasn't he? But that was one of those adults moments he wasn't allowed to participate in yet.

From then on, his dad wasn't late anymore when he'd set dates with him, his phone would be turned off when they were together and he would text him more often.

It was really nice. Because at first, Timothy felt that maybe if his dad wasn't so present it was because he didn't want to. For some reasons. He thought maybe he was too much of a coward or too nice possibly, to leave you two altogether, to disappear from your lives and start another one somewhere else, one he would have chosen and shaped as he'd want. Turns out Seokjin really appreciated his son and the time he got to spend with him. The more time they spend together, the more Timothy is met with awed eyes and whistling lips, impressed as his dad is by his smartness, his humour and hidden talents. He just was very busy. You explained that to him. That he was passionate by his work, that it required a sacrificial amount of time in one's life, and that he shouldn't ever take it personally because even he loved you and couldn't give you that time.

It's the conversation that led him to think that maybe his parents are meant to be, except they won't because... circumstances.

In any case, no matter how often they meet now, Seokjin still brings him gifts each and every time. The difference is that he has to think of a reason, sometimes make one up to not be struck down by your fury.

"Yes, I did."

"Of course, you did! Cause my son is the smartest." Timothy waits for the moment he says that his brain and the magic fuel filling it all come from him. It doesn't come. Instead, a neat white box is held in front of his face. There's a pretty tie made of ribbons glued in the middle, to hide the picture of what's inside, but there's no doubt that this is an iPhone. He rips the tie off and surprise surprise it's the iPhone 12.

"Mom is going to kill you." Timothy says first, before even thanking him, heart pounding from excitement and face split in two by the wide banana grin.

"Probably." He shrugs, unapologetic.

"Thanks, dad!" Timothy doesn't forget to add, eyes shiny and toothy grin even shinier.

He hopes so. That you're going to be mad. You two are too old to have petty fights now. You don't waste your energy in screaming and finding the worst things to say to hurt his feelings. You just cross your arms under your tits, clench your jaws and adopt that pout on your mouth, eyelids low and eyebrows high, the embodiment of condescendence and you look sexy as hell. He smiles and winks at you, calls you by an old pet name and you're swooning even though you try to hide it. No one is charming like he is, and no one charms you as he does therefore he's not too worried.

His son was just going around with this prehistorical device you dared to call a smartphone. With the broken screen, and the non-functioning selfie cam and the safari app needing a good ten minutes to charge one fucking page -this was deliberate as you wanted him to have a phone to call and text you and not go and lose himself on the internet or whatever. He's almost fourteen though and he's doing a great job at school and is such a good kid at home, he deserves it.

"I know and I don't care. I don't need you to tell me my son is good." You are infuriated. The perfect picture of you he had imagined, the only difference is that, you've just walked out of work, you seem to have had a rough day and your hair is a mess. With the wild locks hanging off of your bun, framing your pretty face, you look even better. "I don't want him to have something so expensive on him, first of all."

"His dad is richer than Cresus, what do you expect?" The cockiness dripping from every pore should suffice to make you explode. Of course, it doesn't. He has that stupid side grin. The one he's got you with in the first place.

"And what about- internet and even just the darn AppStore? He's too young to-"

"Are you worried about porn?" He frowns, you flush. That's precisely one of the things you think about. You don't want him to fall upon stuff he doesn't need to see -in your opinion for a good ten years at least- or start taking interest in social medias where creepy fuckers could hang out.

You flush because apparently, it's a word complicated still to hear from him. "I've made a parental software installed in it. And a localisation too. Not that we really need it with him but you know."

"Oh." All tension escapes from your torn face and tensed shoulders.

"Oh, wow, my first love is such a good dad." He mocks, voice high, hardly resembling yours, barely biting back a smirk. He even goes as far as swiping the right side of his bangs back, eyes closed, mannerism insufferable.

"Shut up." More flush. A fist to his chest for punishment. Bad idea. Apparently, he went back to the gym.

"You should be nicer because I have something for you too." He says, eyes glancing mischievously as his hand dips in the pocket of his trench coat. "Well. I don't want it." You cross your arms on your chest again which only serves to push your tits forward to him and he wonders what you're playing at. Probably the same game he plays when he winks and smiles and lifts his eyebrow to you.

"Wait 'til you see it." He sees the moment you realize it's a jewellery box. He reads the instant wild excitement, he catches also the gloomy shadow you try to paint over it because you don't want to accept it. How many times does he need to be told to stop? He won't ever stop.

"You can't buy me, Seokjin." You're eyeing the velour box in his hand, a tiny beautiful red in this large pearly white palm. You want it. You always do. You don't dare uncross your arms though because you know that if you even do something as reckless as taking it in your hand, just to have a look at it, you won't be able to refuse it.

"Of course, I can." More of that smirk. You glare, it makes him wheeze as he does.

You have never ever been able to refuse any of his shiny presents. You're not a gold digger, that's precisely why you felt so guilty all the time, accepting to receive from him things you could never afford for him -or yourself. He's born richer than you'll ever be, he loves to spend it on his loved ones -and on cars and designer clothes- and amongst everything else he loves, he adores covering you in shiny little rocks.

No one has ever worn diamonds the way you do. You look beautiful without them, magnificent with them. They were made to enhance your beauty and you were made to give them sense.

"You're such a dick." You say, tone way too monotonous to still have been in total control of your free will. Your eyes are glued to the shine of the two dainty clear earrings nested in the case. He's holding it open in front of your nose, like a hypnotizing stick. He sees your determination wavers. Your arms have just untied. Your hand is getting close. He smiles already savouring his victory.

"Take them, petal, I don't think your new boy could ever afford them." Your hand freezes mid-track, face falling you look up. He's a bit surprised to see guilt in those eyes. Shame and guilt. Even though, you have the right to see whoever you want. Obviously.

"How-" His head tilts slightly towards the hallway, where the bedrooms and the one Timothy is in, probably playing with his new phone. "Great. Bribing our son into giving you off my personal information."

"I gave him the iPhone after he told me." Seokjin feels the need to precise. His son loves him and he confided for this very reason. He wants to believe. He hopes that it's not because he's worried his dad would have a mental breakdown if he were to learn the news the day his mom would invite him to their wedding or something.

You sigh. You don't know what to say it seems. He doesn't want you to feel upset. He's not going to congratulate you either. He can't.

"Take them."

"He could- he's a doctor, you know." You sound like a petty little girl saying that, fingers aiming for the box but mouth reshaped by contempt.

Thankfully, the mesmerizing glee on your lovely face makes up for this last information.

A doctor.

He snorts, huffs and rolls his eyes.

"Are you really being disdainful over the noblest of all professions?"

"I bet he's not as handsome as I am." Seokjin says, staring away into space in a very Vogue kind of pose.

"And it's relevant because your face saves lives too, right?" You add to his clownery, biting on the smile wanting to take over your face.

"Precisely." You're already putting them on, watching your fingers work in the reflection on the microwave door. He's loving it. One is on, reflecting the light coming from the window, bringing a new sense to your whole stance. You don't look tired anymore. You look very fancy. Sexier than before. Your butt sways a little in excitement when you take a new look at yourself, now beautifully decorated and he's reminded of an idea he once had but never got to realize.

He wanted to have a fashion designer make a garter holder made of tiny diamonds. Solely diamonds. It would fit you just right, maybe a bit tight on you, would dig slightly in the meat of your thighs, enough to look fucking sinful and not too much so it doesn't hurt. He was quite young when he had the idea first and was probably not rich enough to make it happen.

He now owns a few palaces perched on the last stage of skyscrapers in three of the most expensive cities in the world and he would sell one in a beat if it meant he could get that for you and see you wear it for him.

You'd probably end up accepting it and then wear it for your new boy so that's out the question.

He doesn't hesitate when he reaches a hand forward, slip his fingers through the tie holding your hair in a bun and slide it off. You don't even flinch, he's still allowed to do that.

"You look beautiful."

"Thank you." You whisper with a smile, both for the compliment and for the present.

"You went to the hair salon." You nod, forcing yourself not to show your surprise. He doesn't need it to throw himself some flowers, "See? I noticed." He adds with way too much pride for so little.

"Your lenses work, congratulations." Sarcasm is the only answer to his stupidity, you both have figured this out long ago. "Is he nice?" Seokjin can't help but ask. He doesn't want to know too much about him. Kind of hopes that it won't be necessary as the guy won't last too long. But he can't resist his curiosity.

"Yes." You say without much of a hesitation. "Last week, he took me to this nice French restaurant in Songpa." You tell, eyes looking away, a bit pensive, mindlessly playing with one strand of your hair. Your face is taken over by that air. Seokjin realizes then that you really like him.

"I used to take you to very nice restaurants all the time, remember?" He's just messing around now. He knows it's not that relevant. Knows it won't get him higher in your regard,

"And I would spend half the date with the waiter while you'll have yours with your phone. I do remember." Especially given you don't recall your common past the same.

He does remember now that you mention it. His memory has been awfully selective and mainly, what he could picture when he thought about those times, is how beautiful you looked, how much he wanted you and felt like even sitting right next to you, he couldn't satisfy that need, was missing you even if you were right there, and the mind-blowing sex too. The later probably happening because he owed to make it up to you because indeed, his job was on the dates too and you hated that. He remembers the late mornings, the lazy ones, you'd make him carry you on his back because your legs and your hips hurt too badly.

"Ouch!" Toppling over, hand on his bosom where it actually really hurts, he yelps in agony, pretending to have been shot. You giggle and slap his shoulder, pester him to stop when you both hear Timothy ask from his room if everything's okay. You'd think he would know by now that his dad is just a clown whose shenanigans shouldn't be taken seriously.

"Are you seeing someone these days?" What a shame, Seokjin really thought for once he'd be solely cool and collected and handsome. Instead, he can feel his ears start to burn in embarrassment, walks a few steps back, pretending to want to throw a glance through the window when really, he'd do anything to not have see you notice.

"Someone?" He huffs. "Some three, actually some four or five. You know how the ladies get with me-" He sounds dumb as hell. It suffices to make you laugh. You've always laughed at his antics. Even when you were going through complicated times, like the pregnancy and the soon to follow break up, he'd try to dry your cheeks and lighten your gaze, heartbroken as he was to see you like that, and it would always work.

"And I know how bad you are with maths." He nods, doesn't look at you, simply stares at the shiny tip of his italian shoes. "You should call me sometimes, Jin." You don't need to tell him, he knows. You say that to him almost every single time. It's just you being kindhearted, the way you've always been. But first, he hates the idea that somehow, to some degree, it's a pity hand you're holding out for him. And secondly, he knows he'll fuck up if he calls.

He won't be able to talk about his job or politics or what's on the dumb tv these days. He'd probably start by asking what you're wearing and end it all by serenading you. What a bad idea. "You don't ever call, only Tim. Which is fine but-" He is lonely, he does miss you, but he's not that stupid. "I miss you too, you know." You look awfully sincere when you say this. There's still a sad shade to your eyes and he suspects it comes from you worrying about him rather than you simply wanting him more in your life. Maybe it's there for both reasons. He can't be mad at you for caring about him still, can he? Ultimately, it's sweet. It's not your fault he tends to be a loser in his very personal life.

He wouldn't know who he is trying to comfort when he strides forward and place a kiss on your cheek. The other one he's cradling in his palm feels warmer the longer he touches it. He doesn't let it go once he backs up and away. You're looking up to him with your eyes looking all round and childish. Quiet and in expectancy. You look like you do when you would wait for him to kiss you. His thumb brushes over your bottom lip and he smirks.

"Expecting me to kiss you?" He asks with an eyebrow raised high. Pretend judgment in his tone, even remonstrance. As if. "How scandalous, when you already have a boyfriend." You know he's just kidding and he can tell that. He wouldn't play with that if he wasn't sure. He doesn't want to hurt your feelings, make you feel wrong or bad in any way. He loves you too much for that. You could let him kiss you and he wouldn't hold you accountable for it. Therefore he does. Because he's dying to since the last time it happened a couple of weeks back. And when your own lips welcome his, with that much willing and tenderness, he suspects you've had too.

He doesn't allow it to go too far. He thought you would stop him, at some point, but you don't. He's the one pulling away when his tongue, instinctively, means to reach out for your own. He knows what comes after that, and what comes after that and after and after. And even if you transpire guilt and shame, he can sense in the way your eyes stare into his that you would have let it all happen.

He's not lacking in desire, he hopes you know that. Honestly, since earlier, and that random flash of the diamond garter holder, his brain is half clouded by the thought of your thighs and his face buried in between them. You used to make the most delicious sounds, pulling at the root of his hair and chasing your high with your hips. Also now that he's met your mouth again and he envisioned what could happen if he just let go, he can't help but think about that dresser in your room. The gigantic thing you wanted him and Timothy to put together as sort of a father and son enterprise to bound or whatever - he ended up paying a guy to do it for them and they played Mario Kart instead but you don't need to know that. Point of the matter is, that massive dresser has a massive mirror on its door and that massive mirror sits perfectly in front of your bed. And all he can think about is how bad he'd like to fuck you on your bed while you'd watch yourself in it. He'd pull back your hair, hold in tight in his fist like he knows you love so you could see your own cute face while his cock would reshape your cunt to its fitting, all this with the pretty little shiny earrings adorning your ears.

Fuck, what a concept.

And it is to say that right now, he knows, you'd let him. He's not that wicked though. He feels your too weak to resist him today therefore he's not even going to chance it. He doesn't want you to do something you'd hate yourself for afterwards.

"I should go, I still have documents to send for a new contract before-" He takes a look at the expensive watch heavy on his wrist, you roll your eyes. "Half an hour ago, great." He offers you a smile that doesn't reach his eyes no matter how hard he tries before he's off to the hallway, giving you his broad back. "I'm going to say bye to Tim."

"It's just- like that, Seokjin." The words are pretty badly chosen. They don't mean much. Seokjin still gets it though. He can picture you behind him, shrugging your shoulders and tilting your head to the side. It doesn't mean much.

"I know, petal. Don't worry." He throws over his shoulder, faux lightness in his tone even though his heart feels raw. It doesn't mean enough, is more accurate. This kiss like every single one of your shared looks and words and bickering and touches, they all mean that you still fit perfectly good together. However, it's not enough because somehow, someday, you came to the conclusion that you were not meant to be. He's confused as to why and how he agreed with you then. Here's the main reason why he never calls you.

When Timothy looks up from his new phone, wearing your eyes and his smile, he feels a whole new range of pain affected to his sensitized heart. How can you not see that you're meant to be?

A/N: Happy Lunar New Year :) this little thingy was inspired by Arsène Lupin and the relationship between Assane and Claire for those who watched it! I don’t know if i translated well the alchimy and unfightable attraction and connection they still have even after having seperated. ANYWAY, hope you all are doing fine, hope you liked this, LET ME KNOW what you thought, tell me about your day, your resolutions if you have any, what’s the weather like where you at etc lmao xoxo

PS: stay tuned for a new upcoming series i’m quite excited about ~~

#btswriterscollective #thekimlinenet #ksmutclub #bts fluff #bts smut #bts angst #seokjin fluff #seokjin smut #seokjin angst #bts scenario #seokjin fanfic #bts fanfic #seokjin scenario

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sweetestlamb · 4 years ago

Text

Call My Name

Summary: “I don’t know what to do I think I’m falling for you.”

Author's Note: Back with my longest update for this story, almost 10k!! I have only written that much for a chapter for IOTNBO, I’m so proud and excited. It’s thanks to many of you who have been messaging me to let me know how much you appreciate my story and those of you who are making artwork in any capacity based on my story, I am honored thank you!! I battled a lot with the ending but finally I just went with my gut, the characters wanted to act this way and who am I to fight it? I hope you enjoy and I will see you again in the next chapter! Amazing header by @ewolfwitchwisegirl every time I see it I can’t help but smile. Thank you endlessly.

She checks the time on her phone again, for no particular reason just curious about how much time has passed since she last checked. Five minutes. Interesting, she'll make sure to check again to see if her hypothesis is correct, that time seems to move slower in Ju-Kyung's house it feels as if they have been sitting here for hours yet her phone is displaying something completely different and there has to be a scientific explanation for that.

"You acted like you didn't want him to have your phone number but now you won't stop checking your phone." Su-ah teases across the room, hanging upside with her feet on the wall as her fingers move across her own endlessly buzzing phone. She's not jealous about that, not at all.

"I don't know what you're talking about. I was just checking the time." She replies coolly pushing the phone away from her with complete disinterest.

She states blankly back at twin penetrating stares of disbelief, rolling her eyes she lowers her head onto the table picking at the skin on her index finger.

"I told you to stop doing that!" Ju-Kyung admonishes grabbing her hands and halting her abuse, they are hideous to look at the skin peeling all over no amount of lotion can rectify the damage she's done. They are one of the reasons she loves winter, she has a bounty of gloves to hide them from view. Self-consciously she tries to twist them away, they look even worst next to the soft plush skin of Ju-Kyung, who consistently moisturizes the appendages.

"Just leave them. They're ugly anyway."

The other girl ignores her bringing out the hand cream she's seen so many times, she simply sighs when the thick lotion is rubbed into her brittle skin. They both know that this is pointless because she'll soon wash away any benefits but Ju-Kyung is always persistent and she's given up on fighting with her. With a light pat and triumphant hum, Ju-Kyung releases her.

"There. Don't they look beautiful?"

They don't. Out of all the things she hates about herself and that lists grows more abundant everyday, her hands are high on the list. They make her feel hideous and as if anything she touches will also lose its beauty. A twisted nightmare inducing Midas touch.

She doesn't reply beyond shoving them into the pocket of her blazer.

"Su-jin?" Su-ah calls from behind her, sounding more serious than she's used to. She tightens in anticipation, barely turning her head.

"Are you okay? I've been giving you space but I want to know what's wrong. What happened at school?"

Her chest constricts painfully, she's not ready for this conversation possibly will never be but if she refuses will they shut her out? Will she be abandoned? Fear rushes through her veins at the very idea of being without them.

She forces herself to speak, "I...its-- what....I"

The words are lodged in her throat choking her until it's hard to breathe, she starts wheezing and then she's wrapped up in a tight hug, her last bit of oxygen squeezed from her body.

"Shhhh. It's okay. We love you, don't cry." Su-ah coos at her, stroking her head and mumbling soothing words into her ear. Ju-Kyung wipes away ardent tears she hadn't realized had fallen, her smooth hands soft on Su-jin’s wet skin.

"I can't. I'm sorry, not yet. Please don't go." For once she says exactly what's in her heart, people leave that's her reality but not them, she can't lose them death would be easier. So she begs tightening her once limp arms around Su-ah's small waist, clinging to the other girl like a weeping child. Her father has stolen everything she's ever loved from her, they couldn’t be another casualty.

"We're not going anywhere. We love you, no matter what. Nothing could change that."

She allows Su-ah to rock her back and forth, deep in her heart she knows those words aren't true, feelings change and once they figure out her secret, this love will fade and they'll grow apart; pity is the kiss of death. Once they know how truly pathetic she is they won't be able to look at her, she'll just be a broken doll that needs to be fixed.

"We love you."

Sure, but for how long?

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Becoming Sujin's friend wasn't easy she can remember the day she first saw the abnormally beautiful girl, she looked like a character out of a Korean drama with her perfect round face and effortless style. She'd simply stared in awe, too dazed to approach the other girl. When they crossed paths in the hallway she watched the other girl intently, she decided in that moment they had to be friends.

It was like destiny, they ended up in the same class and she started to follow the other girl around smiling warmly every time those cool eyes would look at her in question. She sat near her in the cafeteria and greeted her every morning, yet she was no closer to becoming her friend still skirting the edge of acquaintance.

Then one day out of the blue for the first time the other girl approached her, her face expressionless but the air around her was frigid. She gulped watching her draw nearer until they were face to face.

"What do you want from me?" She blinked at the unexpected question, rolling it over in her mind and still not coming up with an answer.

"What?" Was her eloquent reply, she was finally having a conversation with her dream friend and she couldn't get her thoughts together.

"You're always following me. Do you want something from me?"

She thought it was blatantly obvious what she desired from the other girl but she smiled before replying, "Friendship. I want to be your friend."

She'd never seen the other girl look confused before, her eyes got wider and her lips almost disappeared from how tightly she was twisting her mouth.

"Why?"

Her first reaction was to laugh because it sounded like a joke, who wouldn't want to be Sujin's friend she was one of the smartest and prettiest girls in the school but something about the look on her face told Su-ah those answers wouldn't suffice. The other girl was peering at her with deep searching eyes, waiting for her response.

Shrugging she didn't overthink her reply, choosing not to list the many reasons and going with the most basic, "I like you."

It was her first platonic confession, she almost blushed at the words and the potential misunderstandings but Sujin simply looked at her before walking away without another word. She sighed thinking she'd scared the other girl away, walking home crestfallen.

But the next day, Sujin said good morning to her first for the first time ever and they walked to class and as they say the rest was history, they became each other's confidant and best friend. Sujin, the first person to know about her crush on Tae-hoon, always there to wipe her tears after their countless break ups.

Su-jin is like a sister and that is why her breakdown feels even worst, she doesn't know what's going on, has never seen her best friend cry before. Su-jin isn't one to be open about her emotions, her smiles are as elusive as her tears. So her heart aches as Sujin shakes in her arms, wishing she knew what was hurting the girl this deeply so she could rescue her.

"I'll go wash my face." She's reluctant to let the other girl go but she knows the intricacies of her brilliant mind, knows that she's embarrassed and mentally ripping herself apart. Unwrapping her arms she lets her go, tears pooling in her eyes watching her friend suffer.

Quickly brushing the moisture away she turns to Ju-Kyung who isn't faring much better, dark mascara lines dripping down her cheeks. She laughs sadly wiping at the marks with her thumbs before pulling her fingers back and wiping them on her jacket.

"I'm sorry I'm crying, I know we need to be strong for her." Ju-Kyung apologizes but more stubborn tears rolls down her face and she hugs her tightly, needing the comfort herself.

"You're allowed to cry. We'll be there for her until she's ready to tell us what's wrong."

They nod and hug each other weeping for their friend who so solemnly weeps for herself.

It shocks them both when a loud vibration penetrates the silence of the room, the noisy disturbance makes them jump apart before they both glance at the phone on the table before looking at each other.

"Do you think it's...."

"What if it's.."

They speak at the same time and that's the exact moment that the door creaks open and Sujin arrives with red-rimmed eyes her hair now pulled back in a low ponytail.

Su-ah looks at the phone with wide eyes before looking at Sujin, then back to the phone before smiling innocently, "You should check the time."

Sujin doesn't react at first, standing completely still before she takes a hesitant step forward as if the phone has transformed into a bomb. Gingerly lifting it up she wipes go unlock the screen, trying to look unbothered her movements exaggeratedly slow. Su-ah sees right through her, sees the way her fingers twitch and how she takes a deep breath before opening the message.

She watches Sujin's face for a reaction, a smile or frown but there's no reaction until she huffs and throws the phone away with a sharp whisper, "That idiot. What the hell is that?"

Without asking for permission, they know each other's passwords there isn't much privacy between the three of them, she picks up the discarded phone, eyes bulging at the message before she starts to giggle. It was exactly who they thought and his first message to her is an image and the words, saw this and thought of you.

She grins at the message, wondering if Seojun knows how flirty the message reads. He'd openly let Sujin know that she was on his mind. She'd spontaneously decided to save Sujin under that name in his phone Ju-Kyung had told her about their interesting conversation and the pet name, then he used it again at the gate and she couldn't resist. What girl didn't like being called a princess?

"If he calls me that one more time I'm going to break his motorcycle." She winces at the threat, shifting her eyes. Okay, it seemed there was one girl. She needs to tell Seojun to never mention to Sujin that she was the one to save her under "princess" she had helped him get her number after all, they were practically friends now. He couldn’t throw her under the bus.

"Are you going to answer?" He wants to know if you want him to buy it for you." She giggles at the new message gasping when Sujin snatches the phone from her hands, she looks over at Ju-Kyung with a raised eyebrow at the show. They both watch with conspiring smiles as the commonly emotionless girl angrily throws herself into the bed and starts animatedly tapping on her screen.

She's never looked more alive.

It's the universe righting itself when she hears Ju-Kyung's mother yell up the stairs.

"Ju-Kyung, tell your friend Su-jin her father is here to pick her up."

Ju-Kyung's mother says the words upbeat, mumbling about doting fathers and harshly hitting her husband on the back of his head as she wonders to the kitchen. She schools her face into a plastic smile, despite the fear gripping at her and making it hard to focus. But she can't show any cracks in her display today, too much has happened and she can't allow anyone to be suspicious. They have to believe that her father is a loving man who picks up his daughter out of the goodness of his heart.

He almost looks normal smiling serenely in the doorway, even lifting a hand to wave at her. Cold ice chills run down her spine at the terrifying action.

"Why didn't you tell your mother and I you were going to a friend's house? We were worried sick about you."

She can hear the threat coded in those words, how dare you go anywhere without my permission, she rushes to his side knowing every minute she wastes he will punish her for. She'd inconvenienced him by making him pick her up. He would make her regret that decision.

Bowing to Ju-Kyung and her family, avoiding Su-ah's watchful eyes she rapidly puts on her shoes watching as her father bows as well thanking Ju-Kyung's parents for allowing her to stay so late and when they turn he grips her tightly all but dragging her out the door. His coat blocks the treatment from view and she grunts when he swings the car door open and tosses her roughly inside.

Slamming his door shut he glares over at her, "Do you know how hard it was finding this dirty shit hole of a house? Are you befriending anyone now? This is the kind of person you've deemed worthy of being seen with, you're a Kang for God's sake!"

She swallows her angry, desperately wanting to defend Ju-Kyung but his hands curled tightly in fists make her stifle her argument. Instead she bows her head quietly, letting him spew acid dripping words at her.

"You're not allowed to come here again. My daughter can't be seen with the help."

She anxiously claws at her hands in her lap, jumping when he yells in the confined space of the car.

"Answer me now! Do you understand!"

Staring out the window she replies, voice empty.

"Yes."

He doesn't wait for her to tug on her seat belt before driving off, done talking to her since she listened to his order.

When they finally walk through the front door she flinches when he grabs her arm suddenly, he rolls his eyes as if she's being dramatic. Seeming to get gratification from pressing his fingers deeper into her skin, she grits her teeth through it all.

"Don't flinch like that around others or I'll make you regret it. Tomorrow you are going on a date with a son of a very powerful man, make sure you hide all your bruises."

This time she can't stay silent, rage bursting to the surface.

"I don't want to go on a date with anyo--"

The smack of his open palm across her forehead drives her entire head to the side, her neck snapping so hard she imagines this is what it feels like to have whiplash.

"You shut your fucking mouth! Did it look like I was asking you a question? You will go on this date." His voice is hard and impenetrable, when her mother limps out with a black eye she gasps in shock unprepared for the gruesome sight.

Mom.

"Look what you made me do to your mother. You better start obeying me again or things will get worst."

She's been selfish, she is knew what would happen to her mother when she didn't come home, knew that her father's fury would need an outlet but she couldn't bring herself to come here. Knowing what her fate would be didn't make her any else scared.

"You need to listen to your father."

She can't bear to look her mother in the eyes, she's been thrown to the wolves too many times to feel true sympathy for the woman who gave birth to her. They are both victims, that much she knows but she can't help the anger that has been present since she was young begging her mother to save her.

She knows now, nobody can save anyone else. If you can't save yourself you're as good as dead.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

He knows he can't be upset with Ju-Kyung or Su-ah, they are unaware of what their friend is going through but dread fills his stomach when Ju-Kyung tells him that Sujin was no longer there, her father had picked her up.

He slams a fist into his pillow, wanting nothing more to smash the man's face in he's never seen the bastard before but he knows that he would hate him on sight. He was a coward and a bully and he could not stand those who picked on others, they were the scum of the earth.

He sends her another unanswered text message reading her last message to him.

Delete my number, I don't want to talk to you.

She hadn't been amused by the sparkly purple tiara, he'd seen it on display in a children's store and immediately her regal scowl popped up in his mind. He hadn't thought about it before snapping a photo and sending it to her. That had been hours ago and still nothing from her after a heated debate about whether or not she was a princess.

Sighing in exasperation he sends another message.

Let me know if you're okay.

He's sent five other unread messages, all variations of this message worry making him break all his rules about texting the opposite gender.

He glares at the phone as if it's to blame, tossing himself onto this bed and dragging a pillow across his face to groan into.

Almost choking on the cloth of his pillow he shoves it away when his phone finally vibrates on his stomach, eagerly opening it he smiles at the message on the screen.

I'm okay.

She's lying, he's certain of that he's seen the bruises first-hand without makeup lessening the effect. But she's cognizant enough to send him a message and despite the hell she must be going through she cared enough about him worrying to reply, something unfamiliar flutters in his belly. He writes it off as indigestion and flops into his pillow before sending his final message to her.

I’ll see you tomorrow, princess.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

He's wondering the halls aimlessly sneering at everyone who looks his way, he doesn't mean to be this moody really didn't mean to snap at Chorong but he can't help it, Sujin is absent her empty seat mocking him in class so he had to escape. He's lost count at the amount of messages he's sent at this point, none of them have been read. He growls at the radio silence, he hates being ignored and when she's the one doing the ignoring his frustration only builds. He doesn't bother analyzing why.

"You look ready to kill the next person who stares at you the wrong way."

He glances at the near monotonous tone behind him, turning to face Suho. He doesn't know how the other boy was allowed to leave the classroom when he currently has the hall pass but rules are usually broken for the star student, he scoffs at the privilege. Nobody ever calls him a troublemaker though.

"Being a brainiac sure comes with perks." He drawls leaning against the wall.

Suho guiltlessly shrugs, crossing his forearms before grabbing his arm. He doesn't fight the grip allowing himself to be pulled, maybe this will distract him from his thoughts.

"Where are we going?"

Suho doesn't answer but he drags him up the stairs leading to the rooftop, he's instantly reminded of the last time he was here. Her tears warming his chest as she shook apart in his arms. He mentally groans, he’s supposed to be forgetting her why can’t he get her out of his mind?

"You know don't you?" Suho gently states, letting his arm fall between them and staring at him with sure eyes. He peers back squinting in response, uncertain if the other boy is truly alluding to what he thinks. He doesn't say a word, Sujin would never forgive him if he uttered her secret to anyone, he'd never betray her trust regardless of if she's fully given that to him.

"Know what?" He states slowly , watching his friend’s every move.

"About her father."

A deer caught in headlights, if you looked up that saying his face would be the accompanying image.

Forcing his jaw close, he shakes his head staring at Suho suspiciously.

"You knew."

Suho must feel his judgement because his face hardens before he looks away, "I did."

"Why didn't you do anything?" It's not his place but he can't help his vexation, how long had the other boy known and done nothing?

"We were......young. I slept over, I fell asleep on the couch and I heard him. The next morning she had a split lip and her father told me she accidentally fell down the stairs."

Disgusts winds through his chest at the story, this had been her life since she was a child. While he'd been mourning the loss of his own father, Sujin was being beaten and abused by her own. They were both fatherless.

"I felt guilty every day. I didn't know who to tell, her father was close friends with my dad and I didn't think he would believe me and...... I hated him. After my mom died I hated him so much. I didn't want to ask him for help."

He wants to scream, "What about Sujin? Couldn't you see her pain? Wasn't that enough to put your pride aside?"

But he doesn't because it won't do Sujin any good and Suho has been through his own trauma, he learned that his words have power and despite his anger he doesn't want to hurt his friend, never again.

"It's not your fault." He means it, they were both children. But he just wishes that Sujin had someone back them, that she knew that what was happening wasn't her fault. He just wishes he'd been there.

But he can't turn back time, no matter how desperately he wants to. All he can do is treasure the time he has now.

Her knows what he needs to do.

"I need a favor."

Suho stares at him before slowly nodding.

But not before asking his own question, "Why do you care so much?"

He opens his mouth but nothing comes out. The question spins around in circles in his head, no answer offering itself.

"Do you..... like her?" Suho cautiously inquires searching his face to see if he gives anything away. He doesn't try to hide his emotions.

"That's not important. She needs someone, I've decided to be that person."

The other boy looks at him like he's a puzzle he can't figure out but he nods as if that answer is enough. He'll store that question away for further inspection on his own.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

There's no guarantee that this will work but he stands awkwardly on the sidewalk peering up at the intimidating mansion, it makes his own apartment look like a child's toy. Inadequacy pricks at his ego before he shoves it to the crevice of his mind, this isn't about him.

The driveway is empty that was a good sign. He hadn't thought ahead to what he would do if her father had been home, he wouldn't be able to control his rage. It's a blessing that he won't have to make that decision today.

Pulling out his phone he stares at her number before pressing the call button. It rings and rings and he's sure she's going to ignore him as she's been doing all day, he moves to hang up and call her back when he hears silence and then a quiet, "Why do you keep calling?"

He lets out a sigh of triumph, punching a fist into the air.

Collecting himself he states breezily into the phones, "When people call someone they usually have something to say princess."

Her reaction is immediate, "I told you not to call me that."

"I remember when you told me." He replies cheekily, unable to fight the smile that grows hearing her annoyance permeating through the line, just happy to hear her voice at all.

"Then why do you keep calling me that?" She tightly replies, sounding like she could turn a coal into a diamond in her mouth.

"It suits you."

"Why? Because I'm rich and spoiled?"

"No. Because you're pretty." He hears himself say, wondering if he's been possessed because he's thought that before looking at the girl he was still a man and he had eyes but he's never planned on saying his inner thoughts out loud.

It takes a moment to realize she hasn't responded, scared she finally hung up he cries out, "Hey! Are you still there?"

Another long pause drags out and he becomes really worried that she's gone after taking so long to get her to answer, maybe everyone's right and he's an idiot.

"Don't say stupid things like that." There's something about her voice, it sounds higher than he's used to and he wonders if maybe she's embarrassed. Maybe even blushing. He'd pay real money to see that sight.

Not wanting to push his luck any further he powers on, resisting the urge to ask if she's blushing. She wouldn't be honest with him anyway.

"Come outside I have something for you."

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

She contemplates what she should do as she peers down at her phone. His name and number flash on her phone as the phone locks itself. She'd begrudgingly saved his number when it became clear that he had no intention of leaving her alone. Nobody besides Su-ah had ever texted her this frequently, she was earning scarily that she didn't hate it. Although she hardly replied, not knowing how to maintain a text conversation.

Su-ah had teasingly said she should save the boy as prince, so that they could match. She rolled her eyes at the suggestion, Su-ah was so cheesy sometimes they weren't a couple why would they need matching names? Instead she'd saved him as "do not answer" but she'd already broken that rule, she realized appalled at her lack of control.

Losing more control she sighs before crawling out of bed, not bothering to put on makeup to hide the mark on her forehead, he had seen worst. Her father left after taking her to the doctor, regaling another story of her clumsiness and they walked out with cream, powerful enough to ensure that no scar would be left behind. Nobody wanted scarred goods he explained.

The closer she gets to the door the faster her heart beats, how did he know where she lived? They had never discussed that and why did he come all the way here? Didn't he have anything better to do than stalk her? Taking a calming breath she reaches the front door, she can hear her frantic heart beats thumping in her ears.

She turns the door knob, pausing at the sight of his back. The sun is shining brightly outside, the direct opposite of her gloomy dark home. It was a sin for the day to be this beautiful when her life is so damn ugly. With the sun streaking his hair hues of dark brown he turns to face her.

She feels uncomfortable at the rush on emotions that bleeds across his face.

"Don't."

He looks at her quizzically, perplexed by her strange seemingly unprovoked request.

"Just don't.. emote so much."

Of course he doesn't listen, a smile stretching across his face as he steps closer to her. Reaching out with gentle fingers he brushes against the bandage on her forehead.

"Are you okay?"

He’s always asking her that.

She doesn't feel like lying at the moment, not with his gentle hands and soft eyes beaming at her.

She mutely shakes her head in decline. She doesn't miss how he freezes as if shocked by her honesty. He's not the only one.

"Is that why you didn't come to school?" His voice is barely a whisper now, as if they're sharing a secret only for their ears.

It's a question that doesn't need an answer so she chooses not to respond.

"What did you want to give me?" She breaks the moment, taking a step back until his fingers fall from her skin.

He stares at her for a moment before leaning forward, dangerously close and she tries to retreat but her feet are stuck to the floor as she watches his face get closer to her own. His hands reach over her shoulder and she tilts her head up to follow him, as he lowers his head and her heart skips as realization washes over her, he's going to kiss her. His lips are right there, supple and pink looming closer as her own drop open in surprise and....anticipation? She registers that he's going to kiss her and she might want him to. No. She does, she never knew she wanted this so ardently until it was just a breath away. And now she can't think of anything else but his lips on hers.

She's never been kissed before, never wanted to be either. In second grade and unlucky boy had tried to force a kiss on her, chasing her around the playground puckering his lips and tugging at her skirt. He'd only been able to kiss the sole of her shoe has she launched into a perfectly executed round house kick, shocking him more than hurting him but she'd been placed in time out for a week with no playtime or recess, she had felt no remorse. All the other boys who used to eye her with interest now looked terrified after that incident, no one ever tried to steal a kiss from her again.

She waits for her body's natural defense to kick in and for that itch under her skin to buzz, but it never comes because she doesn't feel unsafe. Knows that he won't hurt her despite her constant dismissal here he is, once again demanding a space in her sham of life. Instead of fear, nerves ravages her body as she pants loudly staring at his mouth only inches away. Is she allowed to want? She's never had the luxury before to desire such trivial things, it overwhelms her. Shocked by her own thinking and the dawning of feelings she didn't ask to have, she scurries backwards covering her mouth with her hands. Now that she knows that she desires this, she can't have it. She can't taint him with her darkness.

"What are you doing?"

He's smirking with a bag now in his hand intensely watching her and she feels transparent, he's looking straight through her and urge to hide is overbearing.

Turning around she sees his motorcycle and she almost laughs at her unnecessary mental break down.

He hadn't been trying to kiss her. That was merely a fantasy she created in her mind, whatever this was it wasn't romantic. Who could want something as broken and worthless as her, but more importantly her life was not her own to do what she desired. She was an object in her father's plan, a pawn that he could move as he saw fit. It was a mistake to yearn or even ponder, her fate had been decided long before she was born.

She shouldn't be here, should have never read his message or saved his number she's playing a dangerous game and in the end she'll be the one most damaged. She turns away, rushing to the door no longer curious about his gift. Curiosity is a privilege she isn't allowed.

"Hey! Where are you going?" He grabs her wrist, not scared to touch today. Her body is burning from all the spots he's already set aflame since he arrived.

"Let go!" She tugs her arm away and he sets her free at her barest resistance, but he leaves no space between towering over her and refusing to let her break eye contact. His cologne is distracting. Everything about him is.

"What were you expecting?" She fights the urge to blush as he glances down at her lips before focusing on her eyes.

"Nothing. I wasn’t expecting anything.” She will ensure that she doesn’t in the future, it’s not a lie but rather an oath to herself.

He stares at her unblinking, its unnerving and she squirms under the hard appraisal.

“Don’t you want to see your gift?” She shakes her head no, but it seems the question was rhetoric because he doesn’t wait for her answer or acknowledge when she refuses.

“I told you this reminded me of you.” He purrs softly, she’s never heard his voice like this. It’s so soft that it can barely be considered a whisper, he always acts like she is something fragile. She doesn’t know how to feel about it.

There's a rustle of a bag opening and then a weight on her head, reaching up she feels hard plastic and ridges and bumps. She knows what it is and she doesn't know how to respond, nothing has ever prepared her for this moment. She’d hidden it well while sitting in Ju-Kyung’s room looking at the child’s tiara, pretended to be annoyed to cover up the way her skin was sticky hot and sweaty.

When she was younger she had wanted a princess birthday party, with all the trimmings and decorations her eyes sparkled as she told her parents still full of hope and innocence then, believing that she could have anything she wanted if she asked. Her father’s guffaw had shattered that fantasy.

“We will not have a childish gathering, very important people will be there. You are not going to embarrass me.”

In the end there was no theme to her birthday and she didn’t get to wear the sparkling tiara she’d seen so many other little girls don on their birthday, she had no friends to invite and she sat alone and abandoned in her room.

And now, years later there is almost an identical replica sitting on her head. She sniffles looking hard at the ground, blinking rapidly but knowing it’s already too late.

“I told you to stop. Why won’t you listen? Just stop.” She’s crying now, there’s no way to hide the tears barreling down her cheeks. He looks taken back, hands reaching out for her and then dropping before reaching again.

“Sujin.”

Hearing him say her name instead of the persistent nickname only makes her sob harder, crying for the younger version of herself that just wanted to be loved and was beaten everyday instead. Wishing that Sujin had this, had someone who was willing to stay, who wanted to be there. She wouldn’t have dealt with such crippling loneliness.

“I have to go back inside.” She turns to unlock her door, scared of him and everything building between them.

He doesn’t stop her this time, she can feel his eyes heavy on her back and she halts when he calls out.

“Just.....don’t ignore my messages okay?”

She inhales, wiping at the wet sheet of tears on her face. She should ignore him, he is “do not answer” for a reason.

She nods slowly, “I won’t.” The scariest part is that she means it.

“Good. Come to school tomorrow, it’s boring without you.”

She doesn’t reply and closes the door without turning back, using it has support when her legs finally give out inside. All of her strength suddenly depleted.

She walks straight to her room, sitting at her large vanity looking back at a reflection of a girl she can't recognize.

The purple tiara sits ridiculously on top of her head, all flashy plastic rhinestones and glitter, something out of a child's dream. Her dream. She brings one trembling finger to touch it and without her permission her face breaks into a smile, it's small and fleeting but accompanied with the rosy blush on her cheeks she stares in shock at the face that looks so much like her but can't be.

"Who are you?"

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Seojun slips on his helmet roughly, he plans on texting her and making sure she keeps her promise. His heart is still recovering from her reaction to retrieving the gift, it was apparent she assumed something else was occurring. It almost looked like she thought he was going to kiss her but she hadn’t moved away, not right away. Did that mean.....

The engine of a sounds behind him shocks him out of his dangerous inklings and he twists his head to see sleek SUV pulling into the hidden garage, the metallic door lifting up to house the vehicle. He doesn’t move, eyes locked on the car. Hands tightening on the armbars he waits impatiently but determined. When the door finally opens and an older man steps out, shorter than him with salt and pepper hair and glasses on his weathered face his blood boils all at once.

“Can I help you? Do you have business here?”

Taking a deep grounding breath, he slides a leg over his motorcycle and revs it to life the rumbling engine calming his homicidal thoughts.

He will never forget this face, he looks like a normal middle-aged man nothing revealing the evil that lurks inside. Menacingly he slowly raises his hand, extending his pointer and lifting his thumb, darkly satisfied when a look of surprise flashes on the older man's face.

"Bang." He pulls back his finger sharply, and now the man is walking angrily towards him but he's ready for this and he twists the throttle and speeds off.

You're not going to hurt her anymore, I'll make sure if it.

The bike thundering beneath him echoes the powerful intent in his mind.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Her father’s pounding on her door shocked her so much the tiara fell off her head as she jolted, she'd carefully picked it up and hid it in a draw fiercely protective of the object already. She knew she shouldn’t keep it but she can’t imagine throwing it away.

Just for a little bit.

"You're meeting someone tomorrow, you'll go right after school. Stop at a store and buy an outfit, something fitting for a date. His father is someone I need on my side, don't mess this up."

She'd sat numb at her father's callous words, he clearly had no issue using his only child to gain favors from others.

"Oh and one more thing, I saw some delinquent outside he even threatened me. You better not know who that punk is. If I ever see him around here again I'll call the police."

That comment has been replaying in her mind all day, he shouldn't have come over yesterday and she shouldn't have humored him by going outside. She kept forgetting rationality around him and it would get them both in danger, her father had all but promised that.

After some careful consideration, she decides to seek him out because school is the safest place they can interact without her father knowing.

He's not in the classroom and she tries to think about where else the boy might be, he's usually never too far from her and she realizes that she hasn't seen him today besides their morning classes. He'd seemed distant then, barely looking at her before drooping off to sleep.

After searching the entire school she's no closer to finding the boy and she sighs in exasperation, why is he so elusive today when she commonly can't get him to leave her alone?

Pulling out her phone, she hesitates for a second before mustering the courage.

Where are you?

Staring at the message she clicks the heel of her shoe, watching the message change from delivered and to read. Her stomach clenches as she waits to see his response, maybe he's already tired of her and finally decided to listen to her advice?

Hating the way her heart thumps in anticipation she moves to pocket her phone but before she can complete the movement, it vibrates to life in her hand.

She freezes.

It's foolish because she sent the first message and she's looking for him but now she's too nervous to check her phone.

Thinking of the soothing beating of his heart on that day, she feels her own heart calming.

Feeling fortified, she lifts the phone and with a sigh opens the message.

In the gym. Why? You miss me?

Is this what this emotion is? This gnawing feeling in her chest when she couldn't find him, it can't be right? They are nothing to each other, correction she's nothing to him.

So no, she can’t miss him.

She clears her thoughts as she walks to the gym, wondering why she never considered looking there.

Sweat and musk clings in the air when she presses the double doors open and all eyes shift to her instantly, slipping on her mask she suppresses the nerves lurking behind her placid stare.

Meeting his eyes across the room, she can't help but notice how sweaty he looks his fringe sticking to his forehead and a droplet rolls down his forearm. Swallowing deeply she closes the gap between them, peering up at him. Discomforted at the way she feels when he slowly smiles at her.

"We need to talk." She doesn't wait for his answer, grabbing his wrist and tugging him from the room. Pretending she doesn't feel all the eyes watching their every movement, everyone needs to just mind their own business.

When they're outside, away from the audience she releases his arm. His heat warming her own cool palm. Suddenly he grabs her hand, twisting them and stroking at the raw shredded skin.

She snatches her hand away harshly, glaring at him. But his angry stare douses her own, a thick vein protrudes from his forehead.

"Did he do this to you? He growls, his fists tightening into balls again.

She stares at him in confusion, unprepared for the level of frustration he's exuding.

Feeling like honestly will be the best thing she shakes her head in decline, "No. I did this to myself."

Disgust. Malice. Contempt. She waits for any of those emotions to cover his face but he's never logical.

"Why?"

Concern. Always genuine concern.

She's never thought of the reason behind her strange compulsion, the desire to wash her hands overwhelming at times.

She's not ready to ponder the psychosis of her actions, not with him and not with herself.

"Did you see my father yesterday?" She changes the topic, regaining control over the conversation before he derails it too far off track.

His lips twists illustrating his displeasure at her obvious attempt to dodge his question but he looks away before replying.

"Yes. After you left, I saw him."

"Did he see your face?"

His eyes dart over her face, as he's searching for an answer to a question only he knows.

Slowly he drawls, "No. I had my helmet on. He didn't see me."

The same moment she releases a sigh of relief he cheekily asks, "Were you worried about me?"

Staring at his smirking face she feels her anger flare back to life passionately.

“Do you think this is a joke? He can destroy you! Stop acting without thinking about the consequences!” She whispers harshly at him, very aware of their precarious situation in the hallway and how easily rumors can spread in this god forsaken school.

“You are worried about me.” He looks even more pleased as he nods smugly.

“Are you insane? Did you listen to a word I said. Seojun, this isn’t a joke!”

He steps closer, eyes harden sharply like someone flipped a switch. “You don’t need to worry about me. He can’t do anything to me, I’m going to protect you.”

Protect her. No one has ever uttered those words to her, and she lets them wash over her before rejecting them, sneering at him with contempt at his brazen claim she says, “Stop saying nonsense. You need to worry about yourself.”

She walks away with her heart firmly lodged in her throat.

I’m going to protect you.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Ju-Kyung and Su-ah are disappointed when she tells them that she can’t go with them for tteokbokki but they don’t ask her too many questions, easily believing her lie about going to night classes. She hates lying to them but there’s no way to explain what she’s doing without exposing too much about her father.

She rushes out of the school thankfully running into no one, not even a certain nosy shadow. He’s shrouded by his friends and girls who swoon at the sight of him looking in disdain she leaves the school, reminding herself this is how it’s supposed to be.

The boutique is expensive, a store associate greeting her at the door and showing her around immediately as if she can smell the money on her. She couldn’t care less about what she wears and she informs the clerk to choose whatever she thinks is appropriate for a date, the word poisonous on her tongue. It’s her first date and it’s with someone she has no amorous feelings for, someone she has never even met before. She walks out of the store with her uniform folded neatly in a bag as she decided to walk out in the new outfit. The clerk had chosen a soft lilac dress with chiffon ruffles lining the hem and shoulders, paired with a white heels and a matching bag. She allowed it because it felt nothing like her, she would have never chosen this for a date and that made her feel like she got to keep a little bit of herself, he wouldn’t be getting the real her.

She checks the address on her phone once more, walking to the street corner to hail a cab feeling like she’s off to an execution.

But that’s when she hears a feminine cry, looking around frantically she sees a young girl across the street surrounded by a pack of hungry wolves, high school boys. They are all laughing and rowdy, seemingly unbothered by the terrified wide gaze of their supposed prey. The cab driver beeps his horn at her impatiently and she ignores it, instinctively making her decision. Running across the street with no thought of her own safety, she smacks away a dirty paw that is reaching out for the trembling girl, her eyes made larger by the huge glasses resting on the bridge of her pert nose. She seems oddly familiar.

“What are you scum bags doing?” She steps in front of the girl shielding her from their unwanted attention.

They all cheer and holler, turning to jostle each other as if they have been given a gift.

With a smarmy smile, one of the boys steps forward pursuing her body with hungry eyes, “Well look here boys, we caught an ever better catch. Look at this sexy little thing.”

He grabs his palms together as they all shout in agreement and when she feels a hand on her wrist, she twists away pulling herself out her reach and swiftly kicks him in the knee he falls to the ground with a grunt of pain.

“What the fuck! You bitch!” He curses at her and another boy lunges forward to grab her but she easily ducks out of his reach and punches in in the chest. The other boys watch in clear astonishment, slowly retreating from her with their hands outreached trying to placate her.

“Hey, hey we’re sorry we were just messing with her. We’re going okay, calm down.”

But then she feels a hand on her ankle and she turns to dig her sharp heel into the offending hand, his scream of pain ringing pleasantly in her ears.

“Get out of my sight before I break your face.”

They all rush to follow her order, picking up their fallen friends on the ground hurling more curses in her direction but leaving with their tails between their legs, pathethic little vermin.

“Are you okay?” She turns to the younger girl with gentle eyes, looking over her body for any injuries and relaxing when she sees nothing out of place.

“Ye-s-s.” She stutters out looking at her with something akin to wonder and awe in her eyes, she shifts uncomfortably under the stare. She isn’t anyone’s hero, she just did what anyone would do.

“Okay. Get home safely. “ She starts to walk away but then a small hand grips her forearm, turning back with curious eyes she looks at the other girl waiting for her to explain.

“Thank you. This is the second time you’ve saved me.”

She looks at the other girl in confusion, taking in her face and those glasses and suddenly the memory resurfaces in her mind. The girl’s bathroom and all those jealous girls ganging up on her, breaking her down because she was better than them she hated those people the worst. Bullies that were so insecure that they lashed out and tried to hurt others, she had grown up seeing one her whole life.

“That was you.”

“You’re always saving me. Thank you so much.’

Shaking her head she replies, “I wasn’t the one who saved you that day. It as Ju-Kyung, I only came at the end. You don’t need to thank me.”

But the other girl ignores her and begins to bow deeply repeating her words of gratitude, she reaches out to bring her back up.

“Stop. You don’t need to do this.”

“Do you want to get some coffee?” She blinks at the sudden question, blinking and then staring some more.

“I just feel so grateful to you, I don’t know what I would have done if you didn’t come. You’ve helped me so much, it’s the least I can do. Please.”

She checks her watch discretely, there is still some time before her “date” and looking at the round pleading eyes of the girl she feels her resolve weaken, sighing she goes against her good sense and nods.

“Okay, we can get some coffee. But I have another.....engagement.” She struggles to find the correct word for the sham of a date and settles on that. She would much rather call it a business transaction but that would yield too many questions.

The young girl beams at her, animatedly dragging her off her excited voice sweet and high as she praises a nearby coffee shop.

“My Oppa works there, he can give us free coffee!” She states with youthful entitlement evident in her tone, she has no doubt that she will be given what she wants. It must be nice.

The coffee shop is a quaint spot, she’s never noticed it before despite being in this area before. A bell rings announcing their arrival and they both walk up to the register.

“Oppa! I’m here!” The girl calls out, leaning easily across the counter with no sense of decency, there are no other customers in the store though so there’s no one to judge her and Sujin finds her behavior oddly cute, she’s quite the ball of energy.

“Oh, you’re here?”

A chill runs down her spine. She knows that voice. But it can’t be?

But life isn’t done making a mockery of her yet because Seojun turns around, coffee pot in his hand looking...interesting in his uniform she takes the image in greedily before forcing her eyes away.

“Can we have free coffee? This is my unnie Kang Sujin.”

“Unnie?” They both cry at the same time and the younger girl immediately grabs onto her arm, huge puppy eyes penetrating her face. “Can I call you unnie? You already saved me two times. I feel like you’re my guardian angel.”

She stands shocked by the girl’s admission but before the words are finished processing in her foggy mind, Seojun shouts out looking murderous “Saved you? Did someone try to bully you again? Who is it? I’ll kill them.”

Unsure of who she should reply to she just stares at them both like a fish on land. floundering around. They are both such forces of nature.

“I’m fine Oppa.” She watches the girl roll her eyes as if his behavior is common and something to be peeved about, “These boys were trying to bother me but unnie came and beat them up! It was like something out of a movie, they all ran away crying.” The girl tries to demonstrate the moves waving her arms and legs around wildly, almost knocking the coffee cup from her brother’s hand.

“Hey!” He yells in warning, moving the hot pot away. “Be careful before you hurt yourself.”

The younger girl looks chastised for merely a second before she’s announcing she needs to use the bathroom and running off, leaving them alone to stare after her.

Awkward silence remains in the wake of her departure.

She’s tempted to run away, he is the last person she wants to see right now.

“You really did that? For Go-woon ah?” His voice is soft, almost shy. For once he isn’t the same self-assured Seojun she’s used to see, he looks younger and the resemblance between the siblings is uncanny now with him looking at her with the same look of awe, his little sister had just minutes ago.

“I.....yes I helped her. They were idiots, I did for myself. They were an eye sore.”

But despite her dismissal, he smiles-toothy and ridiculously charming. It’s almost painful to look at, he shouldn’t be allowed to smile like that.

She stares at him lost in his smile and when he reaches out to grasp her hand, she doesn’t fight it helplessly leaning closer to meet him over the counter, their eyes are locked as the space between them shortens, their bodies moving as if they’re opposite ends of a magnet.

“Thank you for helping my sister.” He breathes out, his deep voice smooth and airy suddenly there isn’t enough air in the room. He rubs a thumb across the expanse of her hand, and she forgets to be self-conscious and simply enjoys the tender caress.

“Oppa! Can we get free coffee or not? Why aren’t you making it?” Go-woon’s loud voice shatters the intimate moment as they both fly apart, she moves halfway across the room in her shock.

Go-woon looks between them both suspiciously, “Did I interrupt something? You both look guilty.”

“No!” They shout in sync again, Sujin groans realizes that this probably only serves at making them look even more guilty. Go-woon’s mischievous eyes confirm her thoughts.

“I’ll make your coffee. You can both have a seat.”

Go-woon starts to walk away to find a table, but she checks her watch again realizing she doesn’t have much time left if she’s going to be on time, she has to leave now.

“Can I have mine to go? I have to be somewhere and I’m almost late.”

Then Go-woon chirps in, “Me too oppa! I just realized I have to start a project, I should go home.”

He stares at them both blankly before shifting his gaze to Sujin, “Where are you going?” He asks finally taking in her outfit, his gaze starting on her face and boldly sliding down her figure. His stare is hot enough to burn.

Go-woon giggles answering for her, “Oppa look at her, come on. it’s clear she’s going on a date. Boys really don’t know anything.”

She blanches as how easily the young girl is able to correctly assess the situation, she hadn’t thought it would be that easy to see.

Seojun’s eyes harden as he turns away, staring at the coffee brewer as it works. He grabs two cups and pours the dark hot liquid in, before adding milk and a syrup and a layer of whipped cream on top. Go-woon hums happily clearly this is her preference as he hadn’t asked her how she wanted her coffee.

He silently hands the cups to them both. His face is blank and unreadable vast difference from the beatific smile he had blessed her with earlier. She feels as if she has done something wrong, but she has no clue what that is.

“Go straight home and don’t talk to anyone. Call me when you get home alright?”

Go-woon is barely listening to him instead she’s happily licking at the thick layer of cream on her cup cooing at the sweetness.

“Unnie, thank you again. I hope you enjoy your date, I’ll see you at school!” She suddenly has an armful of Go-woon before the girl is bounding out the door with only a “Bye oppa” to her brother thrown over her shoulder.

“You haven’t said it’s not true yet?”

She turns back to look at him, tilting her head lightly before sipping from her cup. She’s never had coffee this sweet, but it’s delicious so she takes another sip humming at the flavor.

He looks away for a moment, his chest expanding deeply before he turns back to her.

“What are you talking about?”

“Your date. That you have a date, is that true?”

She raises an eyebrow at this straightforwardness, gone in the shy boy she only saw for a minute and this is the Seojun she is familiar with.

“I didn’t.” She agrees.

“Why?”

“Because it’s true. I am going on a date.”

During the conversation he started wiping down the already pristine counter but at her words his hand freezes and she watches his fist tighten in the wash cloth he ultimately throws it to the side to direct all his focus on her now, no longer nonchalant and unbothered.

“With who? Do you like him?”

She laughs meanly at his question, “You’re so naïve to my world. A date is just another business transaction, he is the son of someone my father needs on his side. I’m his peace offering.”

“What?” He barks loudly, looking like he wants to hurt someone. She can imagine who that person might be.

“Don’t get attached to me. My life isn’t mine to live.” She says tired of this discussion and all the feelings he has brought to the surface. Lifting her coffee cup she bids him farewell, “Thank you for the coffee.”

She doesn’t give him a chance to reply, already knows what he’s going to say but he doesn’t understand everything isn’t as black and white as he keeps assuming they are he needed a reality check, so she provided one.

Once on the sidewalk she checks her phone, she only has twenty minutes to spare. She can’t afford to wait for a cab so she opens the cab service app, entering the address and sighing in relief when the ETA says that she will arrive in fifteen minutes. Accepting the charge and confirming her location she sighs before lowering her phone, waiting.

But then she feels arms curl around her shoulder, bringing her back into a solid surface she almost fights the sudden embrace until he whispers in the side of her head, “Don’t go.”

She tries to pull away but he only holds her tighter, his arms are strong as he holds her firmly against his body. His warmth soaks into her skin and the urge to fight melts away as she relaxes into his embrace, he smells like the deep roast he had poured for them and something inexplicably Seojun that can’t be described with mere words.

“Stop,” She pleads with him, she has to go even if the idea of going on a date with someone else makes her sick to her stomach.

Someone else. Where did that come from? Did that mean that she wanted to go on a date with Seojun?

She can’t answer that question, doesn’t want to deal with the reality.

“No. I can’t stop. I don’t want to stop. Sujin, don’t go.”

She shivers as his words curl around her just as warm and tempting as his arms around her shoulders.

“Why are you doing this?” She demands, her eyes already filling up with tears of frustration she’d convinced herself she had to do this, let herself be used. It was easier this way to listen to her father. But he’s making everything hard and she needs to know why he cares.

“Why do you care who I go on a date with? Why are you doing this?” She screams into the air, deflating into his arms after her tantrum. Letting him brunt the entirety of her weight, he doesn’t even budge easily holding her up. He shifts his body, bringing his chin onto her head and holding her tighter, leaving no space between them.

“Isn’t it obvious by now princess?”

She opens her mouth to berate him, not that damn nickname again. He seriously needed to stop that before she got accustomed to it even now instead of annoyance a foreign emotion rose up inside of her.

“I told you to stop calling me tha--”

“I like you.”

The breath is punched from her lungs and her head swims with his words and she has no retort, no quick rebuttal, nothing. He has left her utterly and devastatedly speechless.

#true beauty #true beauty kdrama #han seojun #kang sujin #Seojin #turning up the heat #I just love straightforward characters #your honor she's his princess #true beauty fix it

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dirty-holy-things · 3 years ago

Text

Christmas Tree Farm

Part III of the Invisible String Series

Part I | Part II | Part III | Part IV Read on Ao3.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x AFAB Reader

Rating: Mature, for slight references to sex and swearing.

Words: 6.6k update

Chapters: 4 / ?

Warnings: Very few. Swearing, subtle references to sex.

Author's Notes: This story is broken into two segments, with the first half being Reader and Bucky's first Christmas together, and the second half being Reader and Bucky's first Christmas spent with the Wilson's, their found family.

Summary: The winter holidays can be a challenging time for many, and you and Bucky were no stranger to lonely Christmases. But love has a curious, insistent way of melting away the ice that locks away and protects our hearts; and as time passes, both you and Bucky finally allow yourselves a little bit of that holiday cheer.

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The city lights somehow shone even brighter, thanks to the addition of copious (or one could say, excessive) amounts of Christmas lights that likely threatened to upend the entire city’s power grid. Every storefront was decked out with tinsel and trees, each mannequin was dressed in their holiday best, and you couldn’t take two steps without being greeted by a vibrant advertisement for “This season’s must-buy holiday gifts!” While you certainly weren’t a Grinch by any means, you also hadn’t had much of a reason to celebrate the holiday through the past few years; that was, until you found yourself a 106 year old, semi-stable boyfriend with a secret love for Christmas that was comparable to that of an eight year old on a sugar high.

Bucky Barnes was an intimidating figure to those who saw him in the streets, but after nearly a year of dating, you had thoroughly cracked that hard exterior to see the gentle and romantic man who had been locked away and frozen for so long. People on the streets saw a powerful man with a gleaming metal arm; you saw a man who could pick you up with ease, throwing you over his shoulder before pinning you down and tickling you. Shoppers in the grocery store saw a brooding and intimidating figure; you saw him fall asleep on the couch, his frame protectively curled around his cat Alpine. You had once been like all those strangers, only seeing that which was on the surface, but you had come to know and love him as a whole person.

And as such, it did not come as that much of a shock when, shortly after Thanksgiving dinner, Bucky’s requited love for Christmas broke through for the first time. “Hey, doll,” he started, an inquisitive tone in his voice. “Where’s your Christmas music? Been goin’ through your records but I can’t seem’ta find any.”

“Don’t have any,” you called out from the bedroom, folding the last of his laundry that had taken up permanent residence in your top right dresser drawer. You strolled into the living room to see him still flicking determinedly through your collection, hoping against hope to find something that would put the apartment into the holiday spirit. “Buck, I’m pretty sure I don’t have any Christmas records — but I can play some music from my phone, if you want me to.”

“Don’t worry about it, sweets.”

He sank into the plush fabric of your sofa, sighing defeatedly. You laughed at his exaggerated response, before moving to sit next to him, draping your legs across his and nestling into his arms. You pulled your phone out of the pocket of your leggings, searching for a Christmas playlist, before you were distracted by Bucky’s lingering, pensive look. “What’s on your mind, Bucky?”

He sighed, metal hand tracing cool circles into your exposed skin. “It’s nothing, it’s silly.”

You frowned, not thrilled with his sudden withdrawal. “Clearly it’s not nothing. C’mon, Buck, you can talk to me.”

“I haven’t had a real Christmas since 1943,” he said slowly. “Hydra certainly didn’t celebrate, and after I came back from the Blip, I didn’t have anyone to share one with. I thought — I had thought, maybe, since I have you, we could do something for Christmas together. But, if you’re not really in’ta Christmas, that’s okay.”

You could tell that his casual tone was forced, you could pick up the subtle changes in volume and pitch. Your heart ached for him, as you thought about the loneliness that he had endured for decades, all of the holidays and joy and traditions and memories that he had missed out on; and while you weren’t a Christmas person by nature, by god, you were going to be one for Bucky Barnes.

***

You fully assimilated into the Christmas spirit and enthusiasm, trying to provide Bucky with every sweet, cheesy, moment of joy that he had been denied for so long. The weeks leading up to Christmas were positively filled to the brim, near-bursting, with holiday spirit and theme-appropriate music, the lyrics echoing throughout your apartment to the extent that you wondered if future tenants may one day hear ghosts of Christmas past — also known as the ghost of Bucky Past, as he sang along to every tune that crooned its way through the small, shared space. You had never seen him so indulgently and freely happy before, so you didn’t begrudge the fourth or fifth playing of the Holiday Hits records, or his subtly-insistent urging for a real Christmas tree.

It was the second week of December when you executed your ‘master plan.’

Manhattan wasn’t exactly known for its Christmas tree farms, so you had planned on making the long and laborious trek out of the city to fetch your own real tree. Bucky was more than happy to oblige, with the promise that he could fell his own Christmas tree; you had no doubt that your sweet, sensitive, and powerful super-soldier could fell whatever tree stood before him. But aside from your confidence in his physical abilities, you wanted to give him this Christmas moment, this Christmas memory — you wanted to give him the opportunity to bring his tree back to your shared space, and to create these Christmas memories with him. You wanted to break his pattern of ignored or heartbroken Christmases, and after he had confessed his love for the holiday that Thanksgiving night, you had been thinking about all of the ways you could make this year special for him.

Bucky had been more than thrilled by your suggestion to drive out of the city for an evening, particularly for a Christmas tree, and the two of you sank into the slow, gentle peace that steadily grew as the car carried you further and further away from the bustling city. You had picked a destination that was quite far from the city center, having seen the positive reviews online and the promise of free hot chocolate; and to be honest, you thought that the brief break from city life could do the two of you some good.

He had picked you up from your apartment, after acquiring this evening’s rental car; and his time spent battling lazy rental car representatives and New York traffic had given you the perfect amount of time to enact your vision for the apartment before his call rang through, informing you that he was here and waiting by the front door. Your drive out of the city had been filled with more and more Christmas music, cups of coffee, and a stash of chocolate chip cookies that you had decided would be appropriate fuel for the evening ahead. Bucky had eaten ten out of the twelve you brought.

The Christmas tree farm was illuminated with countless twinkling globe lights, a soft golden glow radiating around you and bouncing off of the freshly-fallen snow that crunched underneath your boots. Bucky grinned from ear to ear, in an easy way that you had never seen before, and you felt a rush of confidence and surety about your somewhat-secret plan.

Upon your arrival at the Christmas tree farm, Bucky had quickly picked out the prettiest tree in the entire lot; the branches were tightly packed and well-filled with needles that smelled of pine and childhood memories. The attendant who had handed him the axe to fell the tree watched in shock and awe as Bucky cleaved through the tree trunk with two strong strokes; you laughed quietly into your hot chocolate, bemused by your boyfriend’s blatant display of strength. Bucky strapped the tree to the top of the rental car with impressive speed, and it was not long afterwords that you were hurtling back into the city, towards the apartment that the two of you now called home.

Forcing the tall tree into the slim elevator was a challenge, one that Bucky took in stride; and after multiple curse words and sweaty exclamations of frustration, it finally fit to the point in which Bucky could abandon the advanced geometry he had been working at. The ride upwards was humorously tense, as Bucky observed you being pinned in by the tree, and you nervously awaited the arrival that you had planned for your sweet super-soldier.

Your front door now held a large wreath, bedecked with poinsettias and glimmering gold tinsel; the sight caught Bucky off-guard, as he recognized that this was a new addition. “I like the wreath, sweets,” he grinned, moving to shift the tree out of the cramped elevator and free you from its heavy, pine-scented branches.

“Thought some Christmas decorations were in order,” you laughed lightly, finally freed from the cramped elevator; and you briefly wondered how long that fresh pine scent might linger within the small space. Bucky kept the tree upright while you nervously opened the door, suddenly anxious that maybe you had taken the Christmas enthusiasm too far.

Bucky was a man on a mission, as he determinedly hauled the tree through the hallway and into the living room; you had previously cleared a corner for the tree, right next to your patio door, hoping that the ambient light from the city would help to illuminate the tree that would now fill the recently-vacated space. You watched him corner the tree into the wall, ensuring it was supported appropriately, before he turned to survey the apartment that was surrounding him.

You might’ve gone a bit overboard with the Christmas decorations, but you would’ve thrown yourself overboard ten times more to see that smile spreading across Bucky’s face.

The entrance to the apartment now displayed a vibrant poinsettia wreath, and a welcome mat that said ‘happy holidays,’ a sentiment ensconced by the image of ivy and red berries. The tea towels in the kitchen were red and green, boasting cheeky jokes about holiday cheer, and the glassware had been replaced with wine glasses and rocks glasses of emerald green crystal. The kitchen table was fully dressed for Christmas, with gold and green accents at every turn, highlighted with poinsettia blossoms. Your plush ivory couch was now draped with multiple blankets: one chunky knit, one soft and fuzzy, and a wool blanket with a plaid blend of emerald green, dark navy, blood-red, and gold. All of the picture frames and artwork on the wall had been wrapped over to look like Christmas presents, the fireplace was bedecked with mistletoe and holly, and even the bathroom hand soaps had been swapped out for holiday scents.

“Sweets — what’s, what’s all this?” Bucky asked breathlessly, surveying the unexpected sight before him.

“It’s our first Christmas,” you responded, your voice barely above a whisper as you moved to wrap your arms around his waist, savoring the combined scent of pine and that which was distinctly Bucky. “I love you, James Buchanan Barnes — and I want to make every kind of Christmas memory with you. I want us to decorate our tree together, I want us to sneakily wrap up presents for each other, I want us to wear silly matching pajamas, I want us to leave the decorations up for way too long just because they bring us back to this perfect moment.”

Bucky’s strong and irresistible hands guided your body towards the couch, your bodies collapsing softly into the cushions as his plush and chapped lips pressed into the soft skin of your neck, biting gently at your racing pulse. You could feel the excitement and joy radiating from Bucky, comparable to the blazing heat of the sun, or a fire, or any other brightly-burning thing, and you knew that your decision to go all-in for Christmas had been the right one. Grinning to yourself, you thought about the extensive, and… myriad applicability of mistletoe you had acquired, and how you might work this into a Christmas miracle of your own.

“I love you, doll,” Bucky exhaled against your flushed skin. “I’ve never felt so fuck’n lucky, to have someone like you lovin’ me.”

You allowed yourself a moment to sink into the weight of his words, allowed yourself to feel appreciated, valued, desired, wanted. “Loving you is the easiest thing in the world,” you whispered, your hands tracing gently across the sharp and chiseled planes of his face. “Loving you is as easy as breathing… even when you steal all of the covers, or insist on rewatching Lord of the Rings for the fortieth time.”

Bucky laughed, a deep chuckle echoing from his chest as he pulled you closer against his thickly-muscled body. “Looks like quite a lot of mistletoe here, doll,” he grinned, pressing a casual kiss against your forehead as he surveyed the state of the apartment.

“Oh, yeah, that was intentional,” you quipped, giggling as you leaned in for a kiss; only to have Bucky pull away, a devilish and almost dark grin on his face.

“Y’sure you’re ready for that?” He asked, his voice holding a shred of a threat and the weight of a promise.

“Bring it on, Barnes.”

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

Christmas had grown to become a full-fledged, extravagant, blowout event with each year that passed. The holiday season started earlier and earlier, as you both plotted and planned for how to one-up the other with some sort of holiday surprise or thoughtful gift; and you eventually grew to ignore the odd looks of your neighbors as the poinsettia wreath was now regularly hung before Thanksgiving dinner was done cooking.

This year, however, was going to be different. After a handful of long-weekend trips down to Louisiana to visit Sam, Sarah, and their family, you and Bucky had decided to take an extended vacation - two weeks, to be exact. The two of you would be sharing both Christmas and New Years with the Wilson family, and you couldn’t possibly be more thrilled — or anxious.

Over the past few years, Bucky and Sam had settled into a brotherly sort of friendship, full of barbed comments, silent hugs, and quiet words of encouragement and advice; and after you met Sarah on your first Memorial Day trip to the small town, the two of you had taken to one another like lifelong best friends, sharing a love for merlot and a sense of worry for the two men who were dead-set on saving the world.

So it came as little surprise when the Wilsons invited the two of you for an extended stay; and you had eagerly agreed to the idea of both a vacation, and a holiday spent with your found family. Bucky had pretended to be resistant for a moment, mumbling something about ‘not wanting to share his time with you,’ but had caved easily when you pressed on the matter. He was likely just as eager to have a family Christmas as you were — but Sam certainly couldn’t know that.

You had spent nearly two months leading up to your trip relentlessly questioning Sarah and Sam about gift ideas, feeling an immense pressure to get things right. You struggled to keep up with the ever-evolving interests of AJ and Cass, and you felt the need to find something perfectly sweet and thoughtful for Sam and Sarah, as they had been so kind as to invite you and Bucky into their home for the holiday season. Bucky was able to sense your nervousness about finding the perfect gifts, and was able to remain fairly level-headed and reasonable as you perused countless stores. However, as empathetic and kind as your super-soldier may be, he was still prone to bouts of boredom or hunger.

“Look, sweets, we could get the kids gift cards and I’m sure they’d be more than happy —“ Bucky started, before you cut him off with an icy glare. You were in the fifth store of the day, and while Bucky’s patience with you had extended far past a reasonable amount, he was admittedly wearing thin.

“No gift cards,” you bit, cutting him off harshly, before rubbing your hand across his forearm gently in apology. “I know Sarah said they didn’t really need any more gaming stuff, but they’ve got a pretty good deal for the new Xbox here…”

Bucky chuckled lightly, wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you in for a kiss on the temple, forgiving your earlier tension. “With the way you’re try’na spoil them, you’d think they were our own kids.”

You blushed, knowing he was likely right. You were prone to gift-giving and over-indulging the wants and whims of those you loved; Bucky knew that firsthand, and was fair in assuming this would extend to all you loved — whether they were currently in existence or not. “Just imagine if we ever do have kids, Barnes,” you said lightly, hoping the barely-concealed eagerness in your voice didn’t betray you. “Honestly, you’ll be even more of a sucker than me.”

“Me? No, not at all,” he huffed, arms crossing over his broad chest.

You couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled up from within, unable to picture a situation in which Bucky would be anything other than a marshmallow around children, particularly his own. “Between the two of us, you’re the one who will be a softie. Mark my words, Barnes, you’re gonna be wrapped around a tiny little finger one of these days.”

He chuckled softly, eyes flitting lightly across your body. “Y’call me Barnes an awful lot, sweets.”

You nodded, shoulders raising as if to say, so what?

“Makes me think you might like the name — y’maybe might even want it for yourself,” Bucky grinned, a simultaneously mischievous but sincere glint in his eye.

You rolled your eyes playfully, nudging your shoulder into his chest. You returned your focus to the sale tags in the store, trying desperately — and futilely — to quell the reflexive, undeniable excitement that came with the idea of a life with Bucky.

Marriage, a home, babies, the whole nine yards — but you were in Target, you were getting way too ahead of yourself. That was a thought for another day, another time.

***

Your arrival at Sam and Sarah’s home had been just as warm and welcoming as you expected, with Sarah ushering you and Bucky upstairs to the spare bedroom that had basically become yours after the extensive number of vacations and visits. You and Bucky both slept well that night, as the long drive had worn you down, and for the first time in several months — if not over a year — you were up the next morning before Bucky Barnes.

It was Christmas Eve, and the excitement of this day was not lost on you; rolling away from Bucky’s solid grasp was a challenge, but you managed to do so without disturbing the sleeping brunette who had been wrapped around you like a weighted blanket. You laughed quietly to yourself as he sleepily grabbed for your pillow, pulling it inwards to cradle it between his arms.

You stealthily snuck out of the room, wanting Bucky to get whatever measure of rest possible, and made yourself decent before heading downstairs to find Sarah in the kitchen. She was dressed and ready for the day, and you slumped into a kitchen chair with a yawn.

“Coffee’s ready, I’d suggest y’get it before Sam and Buck are up.” Sarah joked with a sleepy smile. So far, only the two of you were up, and you gratefully accepted her recommendation for a cup of coffee, appreciating the warmth and rush of caffeine that it offered.

“Is there anything I can help with?” You asked, as the two of you sat down at the kitchen table together.

Sarah smiled into her cup of coffee, taking a long sip before responding. “I’ll probably have’ya give me a hand with the pancakes, you’re a good judge for when to flip them,” she commented, eyes wandering to the bay window that offered an exceptional view of the sunrise. “You can also help me by giving me a heads up about the boys’ Christmas presents.”

You instinctively felt the need to say no, to preserve the integrity of the surprise and excitement of Christmas morning, but you realized that telling Sarah wouldn’t spoil the surprise for the boys. You excitedly discussed the details of the gifts, both for the kids, and for Sam and Bucky, and despite the clock indicating an obscenely early time of 7:48AM, you still felt the Christmas spirit radiating in the cozy kitchen space.

You and Sarah worked together to prepare a full breakfast, consuming cup after cup of coffee until you heard the unmistakable sound of Bucky stepping heavily down the stairs and towards the kitchen. Stepping away from the pancakes for a moment, you quickly started to brew another pot of coffee; and as you returned to your station by the stovetop, you giggled as you felt Bucky’s arms wrap securely around your midsection.

“Well this is a Christmas miracle,” Bucky whispered into the soft skin of your neck. “You’re up and outta bed before me.”

You laughed, turning to faced him as he continued to hold your body against his. “We’re not even to Christmas yet, Barnes — who know what kinda surprises might be in store for you.”

Bucky hummed suggestively, his teeth barely grazing your skin as you shivered against him. Your body instinctively molded to his, and you were in the process of turning around for a kiss when you heard, “Ah, ah, ah!”

You pulled away from Bucky with a laugh, seeing Sarah standing by the sink, hands planted firmly on her waist as she stared the two of you down with the kind of glare that only mothers could possess. “Not in my kitchen! Save that shit for Brooklyn.”

There was an undeniable heat in your cheeks, and you could see the pink tinge that Bucky’s face took on as Sarah called the two of you out. He still kept his hands on you, but with less suggestive placement. “M’sorry, Sarah, I just couldn’t help myself.”

She rolled her eyes before tossing him the coffee mug she had just finished drying; Bucky, of course, caught it despite the lack of warning. “Well, help yourself to some coffee and breakfast - I suggest you get started before the boys are up, it’ll be a frenzy before too long.”

Bucky laughed and grabbed your mostly-empty coffee mug as he strode across the kitchen; he was filling the second cup as a thunderous sound echoed through the house, as Cass, AJ, and Sam quickly filled the remaining space in the kitchen. The boys were startlingly hyper despite having just woken up - you couldn’t remember the last time you woke up that exuberantly - and Sam yawned while making a beeline for the coffee pot that Bucky held in his metal grasp. The two men exchanged the coffee pot silently, but peacefully; and you and Sarah stepped back from the kitchen to rest on the couch, to enjoy the remainder of the morning and watch the feeding frenzy that was comparable to piranhas descending on the sun-streaked Louisiana kitchen.

***

The remainder of Christmas Eve had gone smoothly and happily; AJ and Cass fell asleep close to 11PM, about halfway through The Grinch, and Bucky and Sam had carried them to bed despite weak protestations that they wanted to stay up to catch Santa. As soon as Sam and Bucky returned to give the all-clear, indicating the boys were soundly asleep, you and Sarah set to work on bringing out all of the gifts that had been carefully concealed.

You were stacking presents meticulously when you saw Bucky taking a handful of the Christmas cookies that had been left out for Santa; Sam had noticed as well, and he frowned. “Hey, man, I don’t see you in a red suit with a white beard,” Sam whispered loudly.

“Don’t see you in one either,” Bucky responded around a mouthful of a poorly-iced sugar cookie. The five of you had spent the afternoon baking and icing cookies for Santa, the neighbors, and the mailman; and while it was adorable and endearing, there was a distinct lack of artistic talent for cookie decorating.

“Bucky, share the cookies,” You laughed, nudging him to hand over the plate that he had taken hostage. Bucky grumbled, but you could see the way the corner of his lip quirked up; he was just as amused and happy in this scene as you were. The remainder of the cookies were shared, Sarah finished stuffing the stockings, and you placed the last present under the tree; looking at the last gift, you saw your swooping handwriting on the tag: To Bucky, with love.

“Is that everything?” Sarah asked, an exhausted but content look upon her face. “Last call for gifts, before Santa takes off for the night.”

Bucky coughed, giving Sam a side-eyed look that didn’t go unnoticed by you. “Should be everything,” Bucky responded cooly, but you could see the subtle flexing and whirring in the prosthetic arm that indicated a sort of nervousness within him. It was Christmas Eve, what could he be stressing about? Unless a gift had gotten lost in-between airports; but you had accounted for everything, you were sure of it. Shaking off the feeling as a side effect of exhaustion, you smiled when Bucky extended a hand to help you off the floor. “Ready to say g’night, doll?”

You nodded, and the both of you said quiet goodnights to Sam and Sarah before heading to bed for the evening. Tucking yourselves into the warm, soft bed, you saw the clock blink at 12:08AM. “Merry Christmas Bucky,” you whispered softly, planting a gentle kiss against his forehead, the soft glow of the moon illuminating the few silver hairs that had slowly appeared along his hairline.

“Merry Christmas, doll,” he mumbled happily, from the warm space between sleep and waking, the space where anything good could feel true, the space where Santa might be real and the world might be kind.

***

You had forgotten how early kids tend to wake up on Christmas morning. A silent apology to your parents passed through your groggy mind as you worked to drag yourself out of bed, having been roused by the inescapable sound of fists banging on the closed door and children’s muffled screams of, “Wake up! It’s Christmas!”

Bucky wore his usual early-morning scowl; one that would’ve sent fear coursing through any rational person, but it was a look you knew and loved. He pressed the soft, downy pillow over his head, trying to muffle out AJ & Cass’s insistent excitement. “Too… early…”

You laughed hoarsely, your voice not fully awake just yet. “You try telling them that, see how far it gets you,” you suggested, as you grabbed for your glasses and the pair of pajama pants that you kept handy for decency’s sake. Bucky grumbled again, and glancing at the clock, you realized you couldn’t blame him. It hadn’t yet cracked 6AM, and while Bucky was the early riser out of the two of you, this was a solid hour before his internal clock would typically wake him up. “C’mon, Buck, up and at ‘em. It’s Christmas morning, there’s presents and coffee waiting.”

The two of you finally emerged from the door, disheveled and sleep-deprived, only to be greeted by the loud cheers of AJ and Cass, who informed you that everyone else was already up.

***

The den quickly devolved into a chaotic mess of torn wrapping paper, slackened bows, crumpled tissue paper, and more toys and electronics than the room should’ve rightly been able to hold. The adults sat back and watched as AJ and Cass tore through every present, shouting and jumping and screaming in excitement with each gift that was voraciously revealed. You had shrugged your shoulders in a subtle I’m sorry to Sarah, as the kids triumphantly lifted the new Xbox above their heads. She didn’t seem to mind too much, however, after watching AJ and Cass tackle Uncle Bucky to the ground with promises and threats of ‘kicking his old butt at Mario Kart.’

As the glitter and tinsel settled throughout the love-filled room, AJ and Cass proceeded to withdraw from the early-morning celebrations to play with their new assortment of toys, games, and electronics. You had finished your second cup of coffee and had sent Bucky to retrieve your third, while you and Sam plucked the remaining gifts from underneath the tree, to be distributed amongst the adults.

You passed Sarah a thick envelope that was tied with a silver ribbon, and watched as she pulled forth a stack of papers of various sizes — airplane tickets, hotel check-in details, Broadway tickets — and happy tears flooded her cheeks as she hugged both you and Bucky tightly, thanking you for the fully-planned vacation. “Oh, and it’s not written anywhere officially, but we’re also volunteering to babysit,” you added, and laughed as Sarah grinned and clenched her fist in excitement.

“We are?” Bucky asked, pretending to be surprised. You elbowed him gently, and he corrected himself. “Yes, of course we are.”

The gift-giving continued, with lots of laughter and happy tears. Sam and Sarah had gifted you the slate-blue Le Creuset you had been eyeing wistfully for years, and Bucky received a set of tickets to a symphony performance and dance night, featuring hits from the 1940s. “Might have’ta bust out the old uniform for this one, doll,” he said with a sly grin. “Used to look real nice in those slacks, y’outght’a have the chance to appreciate the view.”

“Oh, I can only imagine the number of girls you pulled in that uniform, Barnes,” you teased. He shrugged nonchalantly as a thick arm draped around your shoulders, pulling you closer into his relaxed body. “Hey, ease up — you’re gonna make me spill my coffee!”

Bucky planted a solid kiss against your forehead as he drew you in closer, albeit with more consideration for the scalding-hot beverage in your hand this time. “That’s ancient history, sweetheart. No need to worry about Dolores at the nursing home stealing me from you.”

“Y’sure about that, Buck? I’ve heard stories about you and a redhead named Dolores…” Sam interjected, a playfully antagonistic hint to his voice. Bucky retaliated by throwing a pillow at Sam’s head, with the kind of ferocity that could only come from a super-soldier. “Kidding, kidding,” Sam laughed, as the pillow hit him squarely in the shoulder.

Both you and Bucky laughed, and he plucked the cup of steaming coffee from your hands, taking a sip before commenting further. “Only one girl I ever truly loved, sweetheart, and she’s right here with me,” he said softly, his voice rough and gravelly, but full of sincerity.

You knew that Bucky loved you, and you knew that you loved him. Little else in the world seemed to matter past those two facts, but you also understood that your shared love existed in a complex and challenging world. A world that you struggled to find a place in, a world that had all too many places for Bucky to fill; the freedom of narrative had been stolen from both of you, but as you retrieved your Christmas gift for Bucky, you hoped you had found a way to give a piece of that narrative back to him.

You handed him a thin, flat box; meticulously and nervously wrapped, the tag unmistakeable; To Bucky, with love.

You watched him open it excitedly, and he pulled out two photos. The first photo was from the original Captain America exhibit at the Smithsonian, the one that had stood for several years now. The second photo was one that you had taken yourself, of the recently-updated exhibit; specifically, the segment of the exhibit that documented Bucky’s history. You watched his facial expressions closely as he examined the differences, and you saw his jaw twitch and throat tighten as he focused more closely upon the second, most recent image.

“W-what’s this, doll?” He asked, his voice shaking.

You placed a hand gently over his, the one that held the image of the updated exhibit. “This,” you spoke softly, pointing at the inscription, “This is your legacy, Bucky Barnes. The true one. The one that matters, the one that countless people will read every single day. This is the story that everyone will know.”

Looking at the photograph grasped tightly within Bucky’s human hand, you read aloud the new inscription.

“Born in 1916, Barnes grew up the oldest child of four. An excellent athlete who also excelled in the classroom, Barnes enlisted in the Army shortly after the attack on Pearl Harbor. After winter training at Camp McCoy, Wisconsin, Barnes and the rest of the 107th shipped out to the Italian front.

Captured by HYDRA troops later that fall, Barnes endured long periods of isolation, deprivation, torture, and experimentation; but his will was strong. In an ironic twist of fate, his prison camp was liberated by none other than his childhood best friend, Steve Rogers, now Captain America.

Reunited, Barnes and Rogers led Captain America’s newly formed unit, the Howling Commandos. Barnes’ marksmanship was invaluable as Rogers and his team destroyed HYDRA bases and disrupted Nazi troop movements throughout the European Theater.”

Bucky nodded, commenting quietly. “I’ve seen this part, at the Smithsonian.”

“Yes, that was the original; the one you would’ve seen. They also noted your date of death — but as you well know, there’s more to the story,” you added gently, drawing your finger across the image to direct Bucky’s attention to the new addition.

“Barnes was tragically captured by HYDRA operatives after what was perceived to be a deadly fall. Captain America and the Howling Commandos mourned their loss of their brother and companion, with the unit fully dissolving after the loss of Captain America.

Barnes was kept as a HYDRA prisoner of war for decades, before being freed through the work of his childhood best friend. Recruited by Rogers to fight against the Titan known as Thanos, Barnes fought valiantly alongside the Avengers and helped restore the world to its rightful state.

Barnes is recognized as one of the great heroes of our time, having successfully overcome the might of both HYDRA and Thanos. As a nation, and as a global community, we now look to Barnes as an example: an example of what is good, what is right, what is resilient, what is brave and unbreakable.”

Your hands were shaking as you finished reading the new inscription, the new addition to the exhibit; and while your hands were shaking, all of Bucky was shaking. You reached an unsteady hand out towards him, letting it settle onto his shallowly breathing chest. “This is how the world will remember you, Bucky. Not as the Winter Soldier, but as a hero, as James Buchanan Barnes. The Winter Soldier was never you — and nobody will make that mistake again.”

Bucky huffed, exhaling strongly, and you could see that he was fighting off the tears that were threatening to spill from his ocean-blue eyes; you reached to hold his hand, squeezing it tightly as you smiled up at him. His bottom lip trembled slightly as his free hand came up to stroke your face; you leaned into the cool feeling of the vibranium against your warm cheek and kissed the corner of his hand that lingered against you.

“How’d you manage to pull this off, doll?” Bucky asked, voice shaking.

You shrugged and smiled playfully. “I think you’re forgetting that I work for the Smithsonian Institute, Buck. I was able to pull a few strings, call in a few favors — and anyways, museums are pretty heavily invested in having the correct information.”

Bucky laughed hoarsely, the tears receding before they had the opportunity to fall. Sam and Sarah had watched on quietly, both of them feeling grateful for the acceptance and love that you and Bucky had found with one another. “Y’know, Buck, I was thinking that your gift was pretty impressive, but after this… I dunno, man. She might have you beat.”

You looked back and forth between the two men; clearly, secrets had been exchanged, and you had been left out of it. Bucky winced as he leaned over to retrieve your gift, agreeing with Sam. “Yeah, shit, I don’t know how I can follow that. Rewriting history? Jesus, you didn’t even give me a chance.”

Bucky placed a long, narrow box in your hands, and despite his previous comment, he still smiled excitedly as you picked at the red, snowflake-covered wrapping paper. “Whatever it is, Buck, I know I’m gonna love it.”

The lid to the box opened with ease, and the contents both shocked and confused you for a moment. Your fingers nimbly grasped the silver dog tags that rested within the box, the metal chain clinking against itself as you looked more closely.

JAMES B BARNES

32557030 T42 2B

R. BARNES

3092 STOCKTON RD

SHELBYVILLE IN

The tags had been unmistakeable, undeniably familiar, from the moment you laid eyes on them. Holding the tags tightly within your hand, you turned to Bucky with questions in your eyes, and on your lips, but he beat you to it.

“Yes, these were mine. But they’re yours now.”

You stuttered, still shocked by the gesture. “B-But Bucky, aren’t you supposed to keep these on you? Isn’t it like some sort of rule? In case — oh, god, in case anything ever happened —“

Bucky shushed you as you became increasingly worried by the thought of something happening to him, the thought of him disappearing without anything remaining to identify him as the man that you loved. “Shh, doll. Nothing’s gonna happen to me, and that’s exactly why I’m givin’ these to you. I promise, I’m never gonna leave you. I’ll never be far enough away from you to need these ever again.”

While Bucky may not have cried, you certainly did, unable to fight off the swell of emotions that hit you like a tidal wave — but a tidal wave of all good things. The weight of his words ad his gesture was overwhelming; he was handing you a piece of himself, entrusting it to you, and promising that you’d never again have to face a world without him in it. You thought about these same dog tags, how they had rested against his chest for decades, and now having this piece of him so close to your heart threatened to entirely overwhelm you.

“I love you, Bucky, god, I don’t even know what else to say right now, I love you more than anything —“ Hot tears rolled down your cheeks, and you breath was a staccato rhythm as your gaze flitted between the dog tags and the man they belonged to.

Bucky grinned, and you could see the threat of tears had returned. “Just promise me you’ll wear ‘em — and that you won’t lose ‘em.”

You nodded and smiled sweetly at him, before handing him the dog tags so he could fasten them around your neck. His hands cupped your chin and brought you in for a gentle kiss, despite the protests of Sam and Sarah; but they sounded worlds away, because your whole world was right here, holding you, and would never let you go.

***

Taglist: @bdavishiddlesbatch @aleynaandrews @who-is-a-heretic-now

#Bucky barnes #Bucky Barnes x you #Bucky Barnes x reader #Bucky Barnes x y/n #winter soldier #tfatws #the falcon and the winter soldier #invisible string #Bucky Barnes fluff

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joonapeach · 4 years ago

Text

you, me & a little bit of the future [mlb]

summary: Marinette expects some disaster on her first outing alone with Adrien. She just doesn’t expect that disaster to be her future self passing off a baby for her to take care of with Adrien.

alternatively… two idiots obliviously in love cooing over their daughter while acting like they have no idea whose kid this is.

author’s note: i spent my birthday writing mlb fanfiction because that is my biggest source of serotonin. also, if you follow me for bts and have no idea wtf mlb is - first of all, sorry. second of all - give me your brain bc i really wish i could rewatch this dumb show for the first time.

also reposted on ao3

[11.2k words of a fluff/humor and time travel x accidental baby acquisition trope]

If Marinette was still breathing by the end of today… she decided that she would give her life to worshipping Alya.

The girl was a magician, maybe even an angel. There was no possible reason for Marinette to be standing here in an empty museum, waiting for Adrien to fetch a bottle of water for her and yet… here she was?

“Alya, first of all, how did you make this happen?” Marinette squeaked on the phone, looking around to make sure she was out of Adrien’s earshot. “And second of all - I don’t know if I can do this!”

Alya’s familiar laugh came through the call. “Relax, girl! Adrien wanted Nino to go inspect his new wax statue with him but of course, Nino just needed a nudge from your greatest friend in the world to give up his invitation to you.”

Scratch worshipping just Alya. If Marinette hadn’t combusted by the end of this museum outing, she would worship both Nino and Alya together.

“I love you.”

“Try to tell that to Adrien today.”

“I will,” Marinette nodded with so much excitement that it was a wonder her head didn’t spin off. “I promise. I’ll make the most of the opportunity you’ve given to me. You’re the best, Alya!”

Alya only laughed, clearly amused by her friend’s joy. “Well, good luck and tell me how it goes!” she said before cutting the call.

Marinette sighed dreamily. Alone in a museum of art with Adrien, the greatest work of art she’d ever seen… it all felt like a dream.

She paused, quickly pinching herself. The pain registered a second later and she laughed giddily. This was no dream. It really was happening.

From the corner of her eye, she spotted Adrien walking towards her. A bottle of water was clutched in one hand as he waved with another. Was it possible to melt from someone’s smile? Marinette hadn’t thought it likely till she traced the curve of Adrien’s lips with her eyes just now.

“Here you go, Marinette,” he said cheerfully. He reached for her hand, putting the bottle on her palm. It was a relief that the water felt like ice to her skin because Adrien’s bare second of a touch made her scared of combusting.

“Th-thanks!”

“No problem! Thanks for coming today. I know it’s such a short notice since Nino cancelled in the morning, but I really wanted to see the wax statue with a friend,” he said softly. “I’m glad it’s you.”

Glad it’s you? How could anyone say such things to a person with that heartstopping grin and then be so oblivious to the world falling in love with them?

Marinette did her best to yelp out a semblance of a response, giving a toothy smile in the silences of the words she couldn’t find. It seemed to satisfy Adrien enough who only laughed and said, “come on!” as he dragged her through the empty museum.

Adrien’s hand. Touching mine.

It really would be a miracle if she was still breathing by the end of today.

Things were going perfectly. Well, as perfectly as things could ever go in Marinette’s life.

In a total of ten minutes, their arms had brushed 13 times and he’d laughed 5 times at something she’d said. He’d given her his show-stopping, sincere smile 3 times and she’d come near to death from them 2.5 times - the 0.5 she subtracted was when she wasn’t looking and only caught sight of his grin at the very last second.

Despite the empty silence of the museum, Marinette was surprised at just how two people alone could fill the room. Of course, it helped that one of the two people was the equivalent to the worth of a country itself but still… something about the familiarity in Adrien surprised her. He’d left her speechless and lovesick but there was also a feeling in comfort in being with him.

There was only ever one other person she felt like that around.

“Hey Marinette, I’m just gonna go to the bathroom real quick!” Adrien said, with another friendly smile she chose not to look at it too closely. When she nodded, he ran off and she stood in the empty room.

Finally, her heart could take a break from racing.

She exhaled, looking around until a sudden flash of light almost blinded her. She jumped back, ready to say the words spots on at the sight of danger till she frowned at what she heard.

“Do you ever not make this more difficult than it needs to be, kitty?!”

Marinette stilled. She recognized that voice. Yet, it was still not as familiar as the one she heard next.

“You know I can’t paws an opportunity to be entangled with you, my lady.”

The other voice scoffed. “That was terrible, even for you. Now, get off me.”

There was a certain threshold of weirdness Marinette had learned to tolerate in her time as Ladybug. Evil butterflies around the city, mini talking God-pets, monsters popping up during her Physics class… that was all fine.

Hearing her own voice repeated back to her was not. This was treading on a new kind of weird.

Marinette hesitantly stepped forward, following the voices. Behind a big column, she could hear the two bickering people. She checked on Tikki in her purse, who was fast asleep. She couldn’t wake her up for a threat she still hadn’t confirmed.

“Now… she’s bound to be here somewhere,” the voice like hers said. “Chat, can you go bring Emma through another portal?”

“That’s an awful lot of faith you have in a fifteen year old girl to say yes without even asking.”

Marinette heard the amusement in her doppelganger’s voice. “I think I’d know my fifteen year old self better than you.”

Another flash of light came and suddenly, the conversation stopped. Marinette’s heart was back to racing, this time from apprehension as she looked behind the column.

She was certain. This was not in the threshold of weirdness she could learn to tolerate.

An older, fitter Ladybug was staring her in the face. Her raven hair was bunched in longer buns around her neck and she towered over Marinette in height. Everything about her exuded confidence and the presence of… a real superhero.

The only telltale sign Marinette could find of her being a person was the awkward, gaping smile she gave.

“Um… hi,” Ladybug said, giving a stiff wave.

Marinette blinked. Then she screamed.

Ladybug raced forward, clamping her hand over Marinette’s mouth. “Oh my God, was I always so easily frightened?” she mumbled to herself in distress. “Marinette, it’s me. I mean- it’s you. It’s you-me. Hi.”

Hesitantly, the hand over Marinette’s mouth slipped away. “What do you mean you-me?” she narrowed her eyes, an urgent distrust in her voice. “Who are you?”

Ladybug’s voice softened. “I’m you. From the future, ten years from now. I’m twenty six year old Marinette,” she grinned, fluffing her two buns. “Pretty cute, right?”

Marinette’s guard didn’t lower. She backed away slowly. “I don’t believe it. You must be an akumatized person… or a trick from Hawkmoth! What do you want with me?”

Ladybug stretched her limbs. “I can’t even blame you for being on edge. I know how tense things were when I was your age,” she mumbled.

“Hello? Who are you?” Marinette repeated. She put her hands on her hips, trying to make herself look more intimidating. “If you’re really me then you should-”

“How’s the Adrien-in-white poster project going?” Ladybug sighed, asking with a resigned shrug. “Right about now, the new spring shoots must’ve come out, right? That shot of him in the white polo by the trees is the prettiest. The green background makes his eyes pop and makes him look like an angel des-”

“Descended from heaven,” Marinette blinked, breathlessly. “Oh my God.”

“Still don’t believe me? Around last month, you broke your phone and asked for three months’ allowance to get it repaired instead of just buying a new one because you told everyone you had some design files that you forgot to back-up, when it was really just saved photos of Adrien from-”

“Okay, okay, I believe you!” Marinette cut her off, red creeping up her neck and turning her face into a bright tomato.

Despite her embarrassment, Ladybug only smiled wistfully. She ruffled Marinette’s hair. “Sorry to crash your date, little me,” she said with a grin. “But I have a huge favor to ask.”

“A favor?”

Ladybug nodded. “Yup. Straight from the future. Your twenty six year old self kinda depends on you right now.”

Marinette squared her shoulders. “What is it?” she asked determinedly. “Is Hawkmoth still causing trouble? What do I need to do?”

Ladybug laughed, suddenly looking sheepish. “Um… it’s a little less complicated than that,” she admitted. “You see… you- I mean, me… we kind of are in the midst of a little fight against a villain in the future. It’s crazy. We’ve been fighting for two days and he still won’t let go.”

“Do you need my help?” Marinette asked with confidence. A fight in the future… she could do that. Paris was her priority in any case.

Ladybug giggled. “Well, yes. But not in fighting. You see, in between all the battles, I keep having to go home and detransform because of a little thing. A very cute, little thing. Everyone is so caught up in the chaos of the city that I’m having trouble being Ladybug and Marinette at the same time. That’s where I thought little me could come in handy?”

Marinette raised her eyebrows.

“Little Mari,” Ladybug said with an adoring smile. “How would you feel about babysitting?”

Marinette’s jaw dropped. Her head turned left and right, scanning the empty museum before looking back at Ladybug. “Do I have to babysit Manon again on the only day I get to be with Adrien?”

Ladybug laughed. “Well, it’s not Manon this time. This kid’s a little younger. She’s almost one and she’s an angel. I think you’ll quite like her,” she grinned mischievously. “You see, it’s my daughter.”

Her daughter?

No words came to her mind except the phrase repeating. Her daughter.

Marinette was staring at a twenty six year old version of her, far more confident and chic than her and now, this woman had a daughter. Marinette would have a daughter in ten years.

A wide smile broke out on her face. At sixteen, she only ever knew the kind of love she could see around her, for her parents, her friends, Adrien, for her partner… but now, one day, there’d be more to that. Suddenly, she couldn’t stop smiling.

“My… daughter?”

“Yup. Congrats future-mom. We’re quite a good mother if I do say so myself,” Ladybug smirked. “Though I’m pretty sure our husband is half the reason why we’re so good.”

Now, a blush spread across Marinette’s cheeks. A husband. Marinette couldn’t even imagine having a boyfriend, not with how tongue-tied she got around every boy she liked but somewhere in the future was a man she loved who loved her back. A man who was raising a child with her.

At her shell-shocked expression, Ladybug laughed affectionately. “I didn’t even tell you a thing about our daughter or husband but you look like you’re already on cloud nine. You really aren’t ready for the future yet. Good thing you have ten years to prepare.”

“Who… who is my husband?”

Now, a twinkle of amusement flashed in Ladybug’s eyes. “No cheating. All I’ll tell you is… he’s a lovely man. You love him very much. A bit embarrassingly much.” There was a hidden joke somewhere in Ladybug’s words but Marinette didn’t laugh, still too shaken by the prospect of being married with kids of her own.

“What’s… can I ask my daughter’s name?”

“I’m surprised you need to ask.”

Marinette couldn’t fight a smile. “Emma,” she laughed. “Well, I’m happy our future husband wasn’t against our suggestion.”

“Oh, he can’t refuse a single thing we say. You’ll see,” Ladybug smiled. “Well, hopefully at some point. If we manage to end the fight and keep Emma from crying all in a day’s work… so can I trust myself to take care of her?”

Marinette nodded excitedly. “Of course.”

“Thank you little Mari,” Ladybug sighed in relief. “You won’t believe how badly I needed this help.”

Was it possible to be starstruck by your own future self? Marinette felt she was hanging off every word Ladybug was saying, drawn in by the assurance and ease she spoke with. She wondered if this was how the rest of the world felt now when she spoke as Ladybug.

“Anything for you!” Marinette blinked with glittering eyes. “You must… you must be doing so well. Ten years and you’re… wow. That’s me.”

Ladybug giggled. “You’re doing well too, you know. For one, I’m glad you haven’t combusted on your date with Adrien yet.”

Marinette flushed, before blinking in shock. Adrien. “Wait! I have to tell Adrien I’ll have to cancel! So I can take Emma home while you-”

“Oh, I don’t think you need to do that. You can keep her around with him,” an entertained look passed in Ladybug’s eyes. “I think it’ll be good practice.”

“Practice for what?”

Ladybug cocked an innocent brow, suddenly distracted by her surroundings. Marinette was about to repeat the question till the familiar flash of light from earlier came again. Chat Noir came tumbling out of the portal, a baby strapped to his chest.

Marinette blinked. If she was looking at twenty six year old Ladybug then… this was twenty six year old Chat Noir.

She swallowed. The years had been- would be kind to her kitty… if she could still even call him that in the future.

She was far too used to the flirty school boy under the name of Chat Noir but this was someone else entirely. For the first time in her life, Marinette found herself at a loss for words in his presence.

Chat’s eyes flickered from Ladybug, a glance filled with lasting adoration, to Marinette. A sudden amusement crossed his expression that Marinette had trouble deciphering. Somewhere between glee and satisfaction.

He inched closer, offering a hand to shake. “Well hello there,” he grinned before looking at Ladybug and saying, “you know, I almost forgot how adorable you were.”

Marinette squeaked. “You know who I am?”

“In the future, he does,” Ladybug reassured, poking Chat’s nose in an all-too-familiar way. “Don’t fret. He’s just playing.”

Chat looked almost offended by the statement. “I am not. I mean it sincerely. You were the cutest thing at sixteen.”

Ladybug cocked a teasing brow. “Is that really a thing to say about just a friend-”

Chat pressed a finger to Ladybug’s lips, throwing a smirk Marinette’s way. “You can’t be handing out spoilers like that for your mini-self. Look how innocent she is. We can’t deprive mini Chat Noir of the satisfaction when it all comes out in the open.”

Ladybug scoffed. “This is why I didn’t want you to accompany me. You’re just getting a kick out of seeing me like this, aren’t you?”

“Can you blame me? It’s hard to keep a straight face when I now know what’s really going on in the sixteen year old pretty princess’ brain,” he said with a wink.

Marinette’s heart faltered at the display of adoration and comfort between the two future selves of her and her partner. She and Chat were always close but this… this was new. The doting expression in Chat’s eyes when he looked at Ladybug wasn’t new but the reciprocated devotion in her own future self’s eyes was.

He was still in love with her, ten years later - that was easy to tell. But she wondered how to interpret the feeling that made her feel like suddenly, she was too.

Ladybug reached for Chat’s chest, unwrapping a small sleeping baby from the blankets. Ladybug pressed a loving kiss on the baby’s forehead before looking at Marinette. The two shared a silent smile.

Gently, the baby was placed in Marinette’s arms. Her heart paced at the weight of a life cradling against her chest.

A sudden anxiousness pooled her thoughts. “Can I… do you really think it’s the best idea to give your kid to me?”

Chat was the one to answer. “It’s your kid too, Marinette.”

Her name, her real name, off his lips made her shiver. There was a future in which he called her by that. It sounded so pleasant to her ears that she almost wished that that future could be now.

“But… you know what I mean! Not sixteen year old, clumsy me! It’s your kid. The me who’s put together and… you know, can actually handle walking with a child and not tripping over air and-”

Chat’s laugh broke her rant. “The fact that you think you’re any less clumsy ten years in the future is adorable. I don’t think you’ll ever recover from that.”

“Chat! I’m right here!” Ladybug poked the tall, towering kitten away before turning to Marinette. “You’ll be fine. I promise. You can trust your future self’s judgment, can’t you?”

Marinette swallowed, glancing down at the girl in her arms. For the first time, she looked carefully at the daughter she would one day hold for the rest of her life. She was a beautiful sight. Her cherub cheeks stuck out in her sleep and strands of dark, midnight hair just like Marinette’s covered her face. She wondered whether her eyes were blue too, just like hers.

Marinette smiled. “Okay. I’ll do my best.”

Ladybug grinned, giving a squeeze to Marinette’s shoulder. “I owe you. Well, technically I don’t because future-you has a lot of good in store that current-you would never believe. But thanks,” she laughed. With ease, her hand slipped into Chat Noir’s as she walked away with a wave.

Marinette’s eyes zeroed in on the sight. At the last second, Chat Noir glanced back at her and a strange feeling leapt through her heart. He smiled. “Don’t worry Marinette. You’re a natural mother.”

The two disappeared in another flash too quick for Marinette to notice. She blinked, thinking of the words Chat had left her with and the intertwined hands… what ever was in store for her future with Chat? Surely… surely, what she was suspecting couldn’t be-

In her arms, the baby moved. Marinette stilled, glancing at her daughter as she woke from her nap. Her arms stretched and she showed a warm smile as soon as she looked up at Marinette. Emma.

“Maman,” Emma said happily. Marinette had never thought she’d find a word she loved the sound of more than Adrien. Now she had.

When she stared at her daughter, she memorized every small feature. This time, she got to see her eyes, wide and awake. While Emma had Marinette’s dark hair, her eyes were a deep shade of green.

Adrien had never considered himself a narcissist. But looking at the broad, tall body of his future self was making him reconsider his stance.

“Plagg. Are you seeing this? I’m so cool,” Adrien grinned excitedly, staring at the Chat Noir in front of him. “This is the best day ever.”

Chat grumbled, hiding his face with a few fingers. Even his fingers were big enough to cover his face. Adrien blinked at what ten years was going to do to him. Despite his title of a model, he hated to indulge in complimenting himself but at this second… he could only say that there was no way Ladybug could reject his twenty six year old self. Adrien grinned with the thought. He could wait ten years to woo his lady if this was the payoff.

“Can you listen, kid?” Chat sighed. “I don’t have much time to give you a pep talk before Ladybug starts panicking at why I’m not back yet,” he mumbled to himself.

Adrien could only laugh, still on a high. “You’re me! From the future!”

Plagg’s eyes narrowed. “What kind of diet plan is future-you on?”

“I don’t know, but isn’t it amazing?!” Adrien said with a grin. “Why are you here? Wait… you’re here to give me a message, aren’t you?”

Chat took a few seconds to stare his younger self in the face. Adrien wondered why it looked like he was on the verge of exasperation. “I wish I could give you ten messages. But even then, I don’t know if it’ll help your hopeless case,” Chat said with a snicker.

Adrien’s mouth dropped. “Plagg… is my future-self bullying me right now?”

Plagg shrugged. “I have no objections.”

“Listen,” a hand clamped down Adrien’s shoulder. Adrien squeaked an inhumane sound at the grip of his future self’s hand. “You know that girl you have a crush on?”

“Ladybug,” Adrien nodded with a lovesick smile.

Chat’s lips tightened into a thin line, unamused. “This is gonna be harder than I thought,” he sighed. “Was I really this oblivious?” he mumbled to Plagg, completely ignoring Adrien’s distraught confusion.

Plagg laughed. “Oh, this isn’t being oblivious. This is just denying the truth. You love acting like you have no idea. I hope you’re a bit better in the future, for my mental health’s sake.”

“Plagg, shouldn’t you be siding with the version of me that actually belongs in your time?!” Adrien whined. “What’s this about?”

Plagg and Chat shared a look. Chat fought a small smile before trying again. “Alright buddy. See, in a few minutes, I’m gonna head back to the future - we’re in the middle of an epic fight, you’d love it - and I’ve left my daughter to babysat by you. It won’t be too long… maybe three hours. Actually, make it four. I should take my wife out on a date after and thank her for putting up with me despite how stupid I was at sixteen. Can you manage four hours?”

Adrien gulped. In just one sentence alone, words like ‘wife’, ‘daughter’ and ‘future’ had left his mind in shock. He wasn’t sure which part to start with, when so much information had been thrown his way in a moment’s breath.

“I’m married?!”

Chat grinned proudly. “Happily.”

Adrien’s eyes brightened. “Am I married to Ladybug?”

Chat’s smile grew with delight. “Even better,” he sighed dreamily. “You’re married to the girl you have a crush on.”

“That’s Ladybug!” Adrien spluttered excitedly.

Chat sighed, part in amusement and part in resignation. “Even if I spelled it out for you, there really is no hope,” he mumbled. “But anyway. Just make sure Emma stays safe, okay? We’ll be back soon so there shouldn’t be any trouble. Not with Marinette taking care of her anyway.”

Adrien’s eyes widened. “Marinette? You’re giving her to Marinette?” he coughed out the question. “But she’s my daughter!”

Chat bit the inside of his cheek to fight a smile. “Well, that’s all the message I wanna give. Marinette’s going to be outside with a beautiful little girl and you just have to babysit for a short while. Whatever Marinette says, listen to her, okay? She knows best.”

Chat turned but Adrien quickly grabbed at the man’s hand. Was that rock he was gripping or really a human’s body under a suit?

“What?”

“Well… that can’t be all. There’s so much I have to know!” Adrien blinked innocently. “Like… does Ladybug end up being my first girlfriend? How long do I wait to propose to her, because honestly, I think I’d propose as soon as I’m eighteen, and am I a good dad? Do I quit modelling? And what the hell do I eat to become as buff as you?”

Chat hid the growing smile on his face. He gave a finger salute to Plagg before turning to open a portal. With one leg through the flashing light, Adrien yelled out in haste, “aren’t you gonna give your younger self any advice?!”

Chat laughed, looking back for only one last second. “How about you just try to figure out who’s the girl you have a crush on first, buddy?”

Maybe Marinette was a natural mother. It would explain why she was already ready to give her life for a girl she’d only known for minutes now.

At sixteen, Marinette was always sure she wanted kids but that dream always used to be a small piece of her bigger dream with Adrien. Her dream of kids and a hamster and a house in the South of France for them to retire together. Now with a glimpse into the future, her own plans didn’t look like they needed to be so small anymore.

Her future self hadn’t mentioned Adrien at all, apart from just casual teasing. What did that mean?

“What do you think, Emma?” Marinette cooed at the girl in her arms. “She didn’t seem to care much about Adrien but she was looking at Chat like he was her whole world… does that mean my future self isn’t in love with Adrien anymore?”

“Maman,” Emma said in response with a smile. Marinette’s heart softened.

She chewed on her lip in thought. She was holding a child she would eventually have with a man she’d call her husband… and unlike her sixteen year old self’s aspirations, her twenty six year old self hadn’t mentioned anything of Adrien being that man.

Was Marinette missing something? Was Adrien really not the boy for her?

But… her heart belonged to him, she was sure of it. There was no wedding, no kids, no house she could picture that didn’t have him in some way.

Marinette remembered how Ladybug’s touch lingered on Chat’s body, almost too fondly and affectionately to be considered the same as the relationship present-day Ladybug and Chat had. Like an ice-cold realization being dumped over her, Marinette froze.

“Oh my God Emma,” she said breathlessly. “I end up with Chat Noir.”

Emma giggled, mumbling something that Marinette chose to interpret as affirmation. Unable to stay stoic from Emma’s adorable smile, Marinette burst out in laughter.

“Oh my God,” she repeated. “That sneaky kitty… he must’ve done something. Did you see how future Maman was looking at him, Emma? She was saying his teasing was annoying but then she was touching him every chance she got… am I going to be like that? Me and… my Chat Noir? Is he going to be my…”

Marinette couldn’t bring herself to say the word. Fate truly had a twisted turn if she eventually gave into Chat’s wooing and was just as lovesick for him as he was for her. The thought made her giggle but her heart fluttered.

“He’s gonna have a field day with this one, little Emma. If he finds out I met our married versions, he might die of excitement before we get there,” Marinette laughed, brushing Emma’s hair from her face. “I wonder what it is about Chat that makes me finally fall in love.”

Marinette cradled the baby girl close to her, letting herself indulge in the guilty thoughts of love she would usually shut off for her loyalty to Adrien. “You know what the crazy part is, Emma? Little Maman doesn’t even have a problem with any of this. It would’ve been nice if it was Adrien but… I think I get it now. Adrien’s a crush but to really be with someone, I would want it to be my other half.”

Marinette sighed. Were her feelings so fickle? Suddenly, her heart was warm with the thought of a friend she never once considered before. It felt less like two years of feelings for Adrien had dissipated but two years of feelings for Chat Noir had come to the surface after seeing her daughter.

“What do you think, Emma? Is Chat a good papa?” Marinette giggled, joking with her daughter who only nuzzled into Marinette’s chest. She held her tighter, only turning around when she heard her name called.

“Marinette!”

The smile on Adrien’s face was so blinding that Marinette almost had to step back. The boy was definitely not this happy when he’d ran off to the bathroom.

Their eyes met and Marinette flushed from the sheer joy in his smile. He looked down, his gaze landing upon Emma.

“Oh! Adrien- um- this is… well, it’s a bit tough to explain. You see, I kind of just got asked by my… my aunt! My aunt came and dropped off my daughter- her daughter. My niece! She’s a bit busy so I just have to keep an eye out for her for a few hours and… you don’t mind, do you?”

Marinette watched Adrien’s eyes carefully for a flicker of annoyance at the sudden responsibility. She could only find warmth.

Surely, a boy couldn’t be this happy from having to babysit someone else’s kid?

He inched closer, giving a soft smile to Emma. For a second, Marinette forgot how to breathe. The sight of her first love and her first daughter meeting made her forget words.

“What’s her name?”

“Emma,” Marinette answered softly. Emma reached out for Adrien almost instantly, ready to be carried by him even at first glance. The familiarity she held for Adrien almost worried her when she remembered that there was a strong chance that Adrien and her remained friends in the future… Emma was likely recognizing her Uncle Adrien from another time.

“Can I hold her?” he asked hesitantly and Marinette nodded with a smile.

Adrien cradled the girl to his chest with a gentleness Marinette didn’t expect. It was hard enough seeing Adrien so out of reach every single day of her life but seeing him hold her daughter almost like… like she was his…

Marinette gulped painfully.

The future was beautiful and kind, but there wouldn’t be this. There wouldn’t be a beautiful, young man who got to be Marinette’s first love yet also hold the title of her daughter’s father. Still, she smiled. She had ten years to come to terms with it.

“Hello Emma,” Adrien laughed, a soft finger touching her cheeks. “You probably don’t know me yet but… I’m going to do everything I can to take care of you for as long as I can,” he grinned, almost too fatherly for Marinette’s comfort.

“Papa,” Emma said with a giggle.

Marinette’s heart squeezed. She didn’t blame little Emma for her confusion - Adrien did share the same hair and eyes as Chat that it might’ve thrown off the little girl. But she didn’t correct her daughter. She had a lifetime of parenting to do with her partner, so she’d let herself have today to pretend that it could’ve been her first love.

As she walked away in the museum, Adrien trailed behind with Emma in his arms. He said something to the little girl that Marinette didn’t quite catch fully. It sounded an awful lot like, “yes, Emma. It’s your papa,” but Marinette laughed. Her wishful thinking deluded her too much for her own good sometimes.

At sixteen, Adrien knew he was nowhere ready to be a father. He could hardly understand what it meant to be a good son, to be enough to earn the affections of his own father, to be able to start thinking about how to be a good father.

And yet… was it supposed to be this easy?

Adrien was scared his daughter would repulse at the first sight of him but she came willingly into his arms. She rested with ease, her eyes widened at everything around her - eyes he noticed looked an awful lot like his mother’s - and she laughed at the lame jokes he whispered in her ear, despite not understanding a word.

The apprehension Adrien felt in his chest was gone. This was slowly becoming the best day he’d had in a while.

Just as Emma kept calling him Papa, she called out for Marinette as Maman. At first, Marinette’s face paled when she saw Adrien hear it.

“Oh… uh, my niece, she… well, I look a lot like my aunt, haha! So, you know… she gets us mixed up. That’s probably why she calls you Papa too. You look an awful lot like her father. He’s got the… the same blond hair. And eyes. Even the smile at times,” Marinette blinked, her words trailing off.

Adrien only smiled. His eyes flickered between his daughter and Marinette. Her hair was exactly like Ladybug’s, smooth and dark like the night but it was also just like Marinette’s. He could tell what spurred his daughter’s confusion.

Yet, he still wondered… Why was Marinette the one who his future self had entrusted Emma to? Was it a decision that future Ladybug - his wife! - and his future self made together? Adrien chewed on his lip, unable to answer the question.

What had Chat Noir said before bolting for the future? Marinette knows best?

Adrien glanced at Marinette, the softness in her eyes when she looked at Emma and thought Adrien wasn’t looking. With the gentleness with which she cared for Emma in just a few moments, Adrien couldn’t deny that he had no problem trusting his daughter to her either. Marinette was always kind and there wasn’t a person in the world he thought higher of.

Except for Ladybug. But it really couldn’t get better than that.

“So what should we do now?” Adrien asked. “We checked out my wax statue so that’s done.”

“Well… I guess I should take Emma home. My aunt will be back after a few hours and I’m sure you have things to do so-”

When Marinette came to take Emma from Adrien’s arms, he backed away protectively. She blinked, frowning at his behavior.

“Adrien?”

“Uh… Sorry. I’m a little attached to her,” he forced a laugh. Glancing back at his daughter, he smiled. Chat Noir had said that she’d be his for four hours so why would Adrien have to give her up now?

His lips tightened. As trustworthy as Marinette was, was it fair to give babysitting privileges to her rather than Emma’s father? Did future Ladybug trust an old friend more than she trusted her own young husband?

At that second, Emma burst into sudden tears. Adrien blinked, taken aback by the shrieking sound but before he could do anything, Marinette swooped in and took Emma in her arms. She wrapped her arms around the girl softly, moving her as gently as the wind and whispering quiet words in her ears.

How was Marinette so… natural at this?

He could see just why Marinette was the right choice to babysit, with her soft heart and tender touch and yet… the thought still stung. Ladybug was his wife in the future but she thought more of a friend than she did of him, despite all his love?

How was the future Chat Noir so content with this? Adrien frowned, revisiting every word Chat had said in their short conversation to scrutinize it. His future self hadn’t had any problem with Marinette either - he’d told Adrien to willingly let Marinette handle it all.

When he spoke of his wife, he wore a smile that made Adrien think the future was perfect but surely, this was not the perfect he settled for. His future self had said he was happily married but in what world did a father have less right to his child than a friend of his wife’s?

A bitter taste crawled up Adrien’s mouth. He looked at his daughter to find some peace but when he did, all he could see was Marinette grinning and spinning the girl around. Emma now smiled, looking at Marinette with so much love in her eyes that Adrien wasn’t sure what to think next.

His wife… Chat had never said it was Ladybug. Perhaps Ladybug had dropped off his daughter in the past but Chat had never said it was his daughter with Ladybug. All he’d said was that he was happily married, to a girl even better than Ladybug, and to follow Marinette.

Adrien swallowed. Marinette brushed Emma against her cheek and laughed with a sound worth the brightness of a thousand suns. There was no girl on Earth who held that much love in her heart for a stranger’s baby. Not even Marinette, for all her goodness, could conjure up so much affection for a child she didn’t know.

A stirring feeling shook Adrien’s heart. Pretty Marinette, kind Marinette, Marinette with the shyness of a school-girl but the heart of an everyday superhero, Marinette with the passion of a youthful girl but the love of a woman who’d lived a long life… Marinette, the girl he’d buried his feelings for, for the fear he’d never be good enough to earn her affections back.

That Marinette… She was his future wife.

The smile that spread on Adrien’s face made him look like a fool, but he knew now that he was the same lovesick fool as the future Chat. This right here, in the comfort of the space between Marinette and him, and the daughter they’d one day have, was his family. He would find a family in this girl.

He had already found a family in her. Future Chat knew well enough, telling him to open his eyes and figure out the girl he had a crush on. Of course, Ladybug was his first love, built on admiration and respect, but Marinette was his future. She was the girl he’d become worthy of and the girl who’d give him a home after all his searching.

He blinked back the stinging feeling of tears. When he walked closer to Marinette and Emma, he smiled and rested his hand on Marinette’s shoulder.

“Hey Marinette,” he whispered gently, so not to distract her from their daughter. “Is it okay if I babysit Emma with you today?”

“Hm?” Marinette raised her eyebrows. Adrien fought the urge to brush down her forehead to smooth the crease. She smiled with a welcoming glance. “Of course you can Adrien.”

He grinned. “I guess we can go get ice cream. What do you think about that, little Emma?”

The girl only clapped, excited to see her two mini-parents together again. When she called Marinette Maman again, Adrien couldn’t hide his smile.

Whatever it was Adrien was doing to both her heart, and Emma’s, Marinette wished he would stop.

It was hard enough in the simple moments of Adrien carrying Emma and Emma calling him Papa, but now Adrien was doing even more to seemingly fit in the gaps of her life that belonged to Chat Noir.

For one, his smiles were becoming far too frequent and brightening for her. She started the day off at the museum by counting every time he laughed and grinned at her but now, it was an endless supply that she lost track of.

Not to mention… the hand holding.

Was Marinette truly counting the times their hands had brushed this morning? Because now, Adrien left no steps unturned to hold her hand in the streets of Paris. The three of them went around the city, stopping at little monuments and pretty spring sceneries, all together. It was too much like a family for Marinette to handle.

This was her future family and Adrien was creeping in. He was taking selfies of the three of them at every turn, spending money at random stalls for jewelry and snacks for Emma and he was even… blushing around Marinette?

“Here,” Adrien coughed, looking up at the distracting view of an empty sky. His hand was holding out a small box. “It’s for you.”

Marinette frowned, taking the box. Adrien was no stranger to giving gifts but Marinette was a stranger to the blushing, nervous delivery with which he handed her this gift. Inside was a small necklace with a flower charm on it.

“I just got it from the stall so it’s nothing spectacular, I know,” he laughed awkwardly. “But just to remember today. And I promise, I’ll get you a lot more great things in the future.”

“Oh Adrien, it’s lovely. You didn’t have to get me anything at all,” she blinked. For the sake of her racing heart, she chose to ignore the promise he attached at the end.

Adrien only gave a smile. When the three of them sat down at the bench near Andre’s ice cream stall, Marinette could only cry for relief from the relaxation.

“Wow. Carrying a baby across the city is more of a workout than I thought it’d be,” Marinette sighed. “Kids are a lot of work.”

Adrien nodded, taking Emma from Marinette’s arms. “Well, you don’t need to worry Marinette,” he smiled. “I think you’re a natural mother.”

Marinette’s breath hitched in her throat. The weight of Adrien’s words hung in the air and if she inhaled, she knew she would feel the effect of them crashing against her lungs.

Was today supposed to feel like a goodbye? Was it the reason that Emma appeared today, of all days? To guide her to Chat Noir… and to give her words from Adrien that she would carry forever?

Adrien thought she was a natural mother. It meant one thing to hear it from the man you’d marry but another thing to hear it from your first love. Marinette couldn’t help her heart from singing, from the thought that Adrien saw her so highly.

“Marinette?”

“Huh?” Marinette blinked.

Adrien laughed, brushing his hair from his face. “Oh, I was just saying… aren’t you glad there’s a long time till we have kids?” he rubbed the nape of his neck.

“Absolutely. I’m going to spend a good long while enjoying being sixteen,” Marinette smiled, biting the inside of her cheek. “But then… I think I’m also excited. To work towards getting married.”

Adrien blinked, suddenly flustered. “Do you… do you already have someone in mind?”

Marinette laughed. She was glad Chat could never hear the words she was about to confess to Adrien. Although maybe one day, when the two of them were married and in-between battles, she might confess that she realized she was in love with him on the first date with the guy she’d rejected him all this time for.

“Yup,” Marinette said with a smile, thinking of the kitty’s wide eyes and dramatic flair for romance. “I’m going to marry my best friend.”

Adrien coughed and Marinette noticed the tips of his ears turning red. “Wow… that’s… that’s really sweet, Marinette,” he said, fighting a smile off his lips.

“I know. We’ve gone through so much together that I think that the rest of our lives together will be a fun ride,” Marinette laughed. Before Adrien could reply, Emma suddenly began wailing, mumbling for an ice cream.

“Oh, I’ll take her,” Adrien said with a charming smile. “You should rest after carrying her all day.”

“No, Adrien, it’s fine-”

“We’re babysitting together. Let me handle it,” he said, pushing her gently down. Marinette didn’t protest any further, watching Adrien carry Emma down the bridge to Andre’s.

She was sure he’d make a great father one day. While it was a shame it couldn’t be to her kids, Marinette still smiled at the thought that somewhere in the future, Adrien would be there with her.

Adrien pinched his nose.

How the hell did future Chat battle villains with a daughter? Did he leave her alone with Marinette and run off? Did Marinette know about her husband’s crime-fighting identity? Adrien had a million thoughts running through his mind as he stared up at the blob of a monster, terrorizing the city.

He was certain there wasn’t much that could be done. If he were a little smarter, like his future self, he’d pass off the responsibility of his daughter to someone he could trust. Unfortunately, that wasn’t an option today.

Adrien searched the racing crowds desperately for Marinette, looking for any sign of her. For the first time, fear struck him cold at the thought of her safety. She wasn’t far from where the monster had appeared from… would she be okay?

Adrien shook the thought. She was strong. He was sure she’d be fine, wherever she was but… if only she were in sight. He hadn’t quite crossed the bridge with his wife-to-be about his secret identity but now he desperately needed Emma’s mother to handle her while he transformed.

“Papa,” Emma said, blinking.

“I know, Emma. I don’t know where Maman is… do you think Marinette would eat me alive if she saw Chat Noir fighting an akuma while holding her baby daughter?”

“Adrien, you’re worrying about the wrong Marinette. Do you really want to be on the end of future-you’s punch if anything happened to his daughter?” Plagg piped up.

“Hey! She’s my daughter too.”

“She’s his daughter. You’ve been too oblivious and stupid to deserve such a cute kid,” Plagg grumbled, flying around Emma with a kind of affection that Adrien had never seen from his kwami before. “Wow, she really looks like you.”

“And Marinette. She looks like Marinette too.”

“A little less oblivious now, are we?”

“Plagg, please. Back to the problem. What do we do?”

Plagg sighed. “Well… what else is there to do? Ladybug’s already out there fighting the akuma, Marinette’s nowhere in sight and you’ve got a daughter you can’t leave in the middle of a Paris alley. I’ll let your suit wrap her around your chest… just don’t bring me in the wrath of future Ladybug and future Chat Noir when they ask why Emma is covered in akuma goo.”

Adrien buried his hands in his hair. There was no wonder his future self was far more blindly trusting of Marinette. Marinette would be taking care of their daughter, far from akumas and danger and Adrien… Adrien was here, taking her into battle with them.

“Well?”

“I don’t want to hurt Marinette. I love Emma but…” Adrien cast a glance to the akumatized victim. “I can’t let my lady down. I’m sure they’ll understand.”

“For the record, I had nothing to say or do with this decision, I am a mere bystander-”

“Plagg, claws out!”

Trust Chat Noir to make the day Marinette was ready to give her heart to him as Ladybug the only day he arrived at an akuma fight ten minutes late.

“Took you long enough!” Marinette yelled as she bounced back on the ground from the akumatized victim’s shot of what seemed like jelly goo. “The akuma’s in his stick by the way!”

Chat nervously laughed, giving a hand to Marinette on the ground. “Um… my lady, I know we always fight as a duo but would you be opposed to an adorable sidekick today?”

“What are you talking ab- OH MY GOD! Chat, what the hell is she doing with you?!”

“Well, you see, there’s a perfectly reasonable explanation for everything-”

“Why is she with you?!” Marinette bellowed, trying to take her poor daughter from the strapped blankets around Chat’s chest. The grip of the straps was far too tight though. Marinette could almost cry. When she’d said she wanted to see her Chat look more like the Chat from the future, she’d meant his height or big build… not in the way they both appeared with her daughter strapped to their chest in danger.

“Look, my lady, listen, I couldn’t leave her in the streets! She has a better chance of being protected like this than if I’d leave her on a bench somewhere!”

“Why couldn’t you leave her with Adrien?!”

“Papa?”

“Not now, Emma!”

Chat blinked. “How do you know her name?” he said slowly. “And how do you know she was with Adrien? Oh my God, did future Chat Noir pay a visit to you too?!”

Marinette buried her face into her palms. Was he really the partner she was supposed to raise Emma with? She was glad that there were years to go before the two of them would reach that burden because right now, she was almost guiltily wishing fate had been kinder to her and put her in Adrien’s path instead.

“Chat, now is not the time! Please! We need to break the akuma and figure out how to keep Emma safe. Please just… just be safe with her, okay?”

Chat nodded, blinking. “Of course I will. She is my daughter after all,” he said with a smile down at Emma. His black-leather clad gloves gently caressed the girl’s cheek, careful of his sharp claws.

Marinette stilled. So wrapped up in the chaos, she forgot she was witnessing the sight of her daughter with the man she’d one day call her husband.

In her mind, Chat Noir had always been a little bit of a child himself, chasing after love and thrill like a lost boy. There were countless times she doubted his sincerity in his fluttering feelings for her.

And yet… Now, when she looked at him, none of that doubt was there. All she saw was a boy with radiating love in his eyes, a gentle heart, one that had been begging for her to be careful with him all this time because his affection was never insincere. It was just that he had so much to give.

Marinette blinked back the pooling tears in her eyes. He looked at Emma with so much love and when his eyes came to her, his gaze only softened.

“Are you crying?” he asked, puzzled.

Marinette quickly wiped the tears away under her mask. Now was not the time. “You… you’re gonna be a great father one day, kitty,” she settled for saying, running away towards the akuma without a glance back. Though he was out of earshot, Marinette still let herself say to the world, “I’m so glad you’re going to be the one for my kids.”

Adrien was fighting an akuma, with his future daughter wrapped to his chest, and his future wife somewhere out there in Paris. And first love had just told him that he was going to be a great father out of the blue.

Were all of the world’s gifts being given to him today?

“Chat, the light pole! If you cataclysm it, we can trap him!”

Adrien blinked, looking up. “Um… my lady, I would never be opposed to anything you suggest except- I don’t wanna give Emma vertigo by climbing all the way up there!”

Ladybug sighed. “Well, it’s not ideal to bring a daughter along in an akuma fight. For now, I’ll hold onto her while you go!” she said before mumbling, “we better find a way around this when the time comes. I might kill you if you bring Emma along into a fight in the future.”

In a quick swap, Adrien was now watching Ladybug cradle his daughter to her chest. His first love and his future daughter. He hated how his heart fluttered.

Before today, it was her he wanted to be a husband for. He dreamed of holding their children, of living together and growing old by each other’s side… Adrien hoped that the part of him that clung to that fantasy would go away soon.

He feigned a laugh. “Of course I won’t. I’ll leave her at home with my wife.”

Ladybug stilled, and amongst the chaos of Paris behind her, he could see her body freeze. Suddenly, she was glaring at him. “Like hell you will!” she pompously snapped. “You should be the one staying home taking care of her!”

Adrien blinked. “Then who will save Paris?!”

Adrien didn’t know what he was doing that only seemed to flame Ladybug’s temper. “I’m the one who purifies akumas anyway! You should be the one taking care of the kid!”

“I- I don’t understand!” Adrien threw his hands up in the air. The sudden argument between him and Ladybug made him feel like they were having a lover’s spat, but he tried not to dwell on that thought. “Why couldn’t my wife just take care of Emma while I’m out here?”

“Chat, if this is how you plan to be in the future, I swear I will make sure there is no Emma!” Ladybug argued. “I am not staying home to babysit Emma while you get to fight!”

“No one said anything about you having to babysit! You can fight!”

“You said you’ll leave Emma alone at home with your wife!”

“Yes! My wife!”

Ladybug blinked in confusion. “Well, your wife doesn’t want to stay home to babysit!”

Adrien buried his face in his hands. The city would burn to the ground at this rate, while he would still be stuck in a conversation he did not understand. He watched Emma’s eyes go from Ladybug to his as if she were lost on who to listen to.

“I don’t see why Marinette would have any problems taking care of Emma,” Adrien sighed exasperatedly. His body instantly froze after saying the words.

He’d just told the name of his future wife to a partner who had no idea about his identity… Adrien’s throat dried up. Had he just fucked up everything?

He swallowed, risking a glance at Ladybug. She mirrored his expression of shock and he mentally braced himself for the scolding of his life from her.

“You… you- did future Chat go and tell you my name?!” she groaned, shaking with a frightening temper. “I thought that was off limits! Future Ladybug didn’t even tell me anything about you! I had to figure it out all on my own that we were going to get married!”

Adrien stilled. Whatever confusion he was facing before, it only seemed to get worse now.

“M- married?” he sputtered out, suddenly coughing. His head echoed the chaos ensuing in the city around him. The logical part of his brain told him to get back to work, save Paris… every other part of him told him that he was stepping on unchartered territory right now with Ladybug and he shouldn’t dare move.

“This is a mess. Emma, did we mess everything up?” Ladybug mumbled, looking down at his daughter.

“Ladybug… wait, I think- I think there’s been a misunderstanding,” Adrien cut in, awkwardly rubbing the nape of his neck. “I’m… I’m going to marry Marinette.”

Ladybug blinked at him as if waiting for him to say something more. For a moment, only silence passed between the two. They both seemed to be waiting for the other to finish their unfinished words.

It was in this silence that Emma’s voice became the loudest. She looked up at Ladybug, laughing and reaching for her dark hair to grab. “Maman.”

Adrien glanced between his daughter’s familiar gaze at his first love and his first love’s hair that looked an awful lot like his future wife’s. Despite the tense atmosphere, Ladybug still smiled softly at his daughter as she continued to call out for Maman.

Adrien burst out laughing. Maybe he’d be a great father one day. But he sure as hell wouldn’t stop being an idiot.

Chat would make a very strange husband, Marinette decided. One second, he was yelling at her that she would have to stay home to take care of Emma and the next, after a very visible mental breakdown of laughter, he was back on his game.

Once the two of them had gotten past the weird argument, it took only a few minutes for Paris to return to normal and a little butterfly to fly away, harmless and pure. All in a day’s work… with a baby wrapped around her chest.

“Sorry little Emma,” Marinette sighed, rubbing her suit-covered fingers over her daughter’s cheek. “Maman took you into a fight. You must’ve been so scared.”

Emma only giggled.

“Well, you don’t really need to be scared. We’re just kids right now, but I promise once you come, Maman will be an even better superhero. And Papa too… if he ever sorts his head out. We’ll be good parents,” Marinette blushed before adding, “we’ll be a good husband and wife too, don’t you think?”

Marinette couldn't get sick of the bright, green eyes of her daughter. They really were beautiful.

Behind her, she heard Chat Noir’s feet land on the ground. He mumbled pleasant greetings to the Parisians walking by before coming to her.

“So,” he began. A new kind of smile Marinette had never seen before was playing on his lips. “Crime-fighting husband and wife?”

Marinette rolled her eyes. There it was. The smugness she knew she’d have to handle from the second she realized that the man she ended up with was Chat Noir. “This just sounds like a recipe for disaster.”

His glee was painted across his face. He couldn’t stop grinning. “On the contrary, I think it’ll be quite the dream. You, me, our kwamis and our little kids. Aren’t you glad future-you finally decides to fall for me and have that life?”

“I don’t know. Doesn’t sound like much is in it for me.”

Chat fought a cocky grin. “Well, you get a piece of twenty-six-year-old Chat Noir and I think you’d quite like him, my lady.”

Marinette had to hide her flushing cheeks by looking down at Emma. “I’m stuck with sixteen-year-old you right now. Let’s start one step at a time, okay?” Marinette mumbled. “We have a long way to go before we become good parents.”

Chat laughed. “Me maybe. But you’re a natural mother, bugaboo. You’ll be great.”

Marinette giggled. What was that her future self had said? That she’d be a good mother, but her husband was half the reason why. She wouldn’t tell Chat that now, but she was starting to think it might be true. He’d done something risky today but he had her back as always.

In unison, both of their Miraculouses beeped, reminding them of their time limits.

“Oh! Gotta go,” Chat glanced at his ring before looking up at Emma. “Will you be able to handle her?”

Marinette smiled. “Papa’s done enough,” she teased, poking him away. “I’ll be fine.”

Chat laughed, pressing a kiss onto Emma’s forehead. “See you when I see you, little bug,” he whispered to the happy baby before looking at Marinette with a mischievous smile. Marinette almost jumped from the sneaky kiss he pressed onto her forehead too.

She still felt his lips on her skin, long after he’d leaped across rooftops away. Cradling Emma carefully against her, she sneaked into an alley quickly to de-transform.

“You did great Marinette! You took down the akuma and took perfect care of Emma,” Tikki smiled. “Chat Noir’s right! You really are a natural mother.”

Marinette laughed. “Thanks, Tikki. Adrien said that too- oh my god! Adrien!”

Tikki hid a knowing smile before going back inside her purse. Marinette instantly took off, running back to the bridge where she’d last seen Adrien leave with Emma. The poor boy… he probably was frightened to death, thinking he lost Emma and Marinette in the crowd.

Standing in the middle of the bridge, Marinette panted. “Oh Emma,” she chewed her lip. “You don’t think he’ll be too panicked, will he? Adrien?”

“Papa?” Emma only asked in response, blinking widely.

Marinette laughed. “Not Papa silly. You just saw Papa. Do you already miss him?”

Emma pouted, nuzzling her face into Marinette’s neck. “Papa.”

Marinette sighed. “Is this how it is in the future? Do you like Papa more than me?” she grumbled playfully. She didn’t think she’d even mind if little Emma gave all her devotion to Chat.

The two laughed together till Marinette heard her name called. As she turned, she hated the way her heart skipped at the sight. Adrien came rushing down the bridge, two ice creams clutched in his hands and a wide smile on his face. It was a scene she thought she’d recall in every dream from now on.

Ten years Marinette… you have ten years to get over that.

“Sorry! I went to get ice cream, then the akuma happened, then Emma-”

“It’s fine, Adrien!” Marinette forced a laugh. “You’ve been a great help today with Emma anyway!”

Adrien’s smile slipped into something softer. She almost wished she didn’t have to see it.

“Papa!”

“Hey Emma,” Adrien laughed, giving the ice creams to Marinette before taking Emma into her own hands. “You weren’t scared, were you?”

Emma shook her head happily. She nuzzled affectionately into his touch, still calling him Papa.

“Sorry about her,” Marinette smiled, though it didn’t reach her eyes. “Looks like she likes her Papa more and you remind her of him.”

Adrien nodded, biting back a smile. “Well, that’s okay. I think her Maman already has someone who loves her far too much. It isn’t fair for her to get all of Emma’s love too.”

“Hm?”

Marinette blinked. That smile on Adrien… Why did it look both new and familiar at once? And why was he leaning in with a glint of amusement in his eyes, as if this were something ordinary between the two of them? And why, despite every better part of herself, was Marinette’s heart racing from being the focus of those eyes?

“Wouldn’t you agree, future wife?”

The ice creams dropped. Two cones sat planted in the ground and Marinette squeaked. The smugness she’d seen minutes ago on Chat’s face now appeared on… on Adrien’s. He laughed, sharing the joke with Emma in his playful stare. Her first love, the love of her life, and her future daughter… all in one sight.

“Adrien!”

“Uh oh Emma, your Maman is mad at me,” the boy laughed. Marinette chased him down the bridge but when she caught him, it was Adrien who pressed his lips to her forehead this time.

“You took… our daughter into an akuma fight?!”

“Hey! She’s our daughter too. And don’t tell off Marinette,” Adrien pouted, jumping in front of Marinette from the towering Ladybug who had her hands on her hips. Hips he was having a hard time looking away from.

Adrien couldn’t tell Marinette - he wouldn’t dare - but while ten years would make him as Chat Noir just a bit more handsome, ten years would make her deadly.

He had to gulp a heavy breath when she appeared in Marinette’s bedroom, with her own Chat Noir on her tail. At first glance, he almost tripped from Marinette’s sofa. When he shared a look with his future self, his future self only feigned an innocent smile, fully aware of the inner workings of sixteen-year-old Adrien’s mind and how the stunning woman had short-wired it.

“I am allowed to tell myself off, Adrien,” Ladybug sighed. “Move away.”

“No way. It wasn’t her fault anyway!”

Ladybug shared a look with Chat. “Were you always this stubborn?”

Chat grinned. “Only when it comes to you,” he said with a wink and then with a glance at sixteen-year-old Marinette, “and her too, I guess.”

Adrien frowned. “Hey! Flirt with your own Marinette,” he grumbled, shooting daggers at his future self. For as hard as Adrien had worked to disguise his starstruck reaction to the future Ladybug, Marinette had put no effort into the same for the future Chat Noir. Her eyes were glued to him this whole time. Every time he moved or turned and the muscles strained against the suit, Marinette turned a little bit redder.

Adrien wasn’t sure whether to be jealous or flattered.

“Like I can’t see you ogling me,” Ladybug muttered before looking at Marinette. “Anyway. I’ll take Emma back now. While it wasn’t… ideal for you two to fight with her on hand, I know why you did it. Thank you for taking care of her.”

Marinette beamed. “Thank you for letting me have her today. I… I’m gonna work really hard,” she promised, her eyes bright and glittering. “To become a mother and superhero as good as you.”

Ladybug smiled, but before she could respond, the two boys answered in unison, “You’re already good.”

Marinette blinked, looking between Adrien and Chat. “Wow. This is trippy.”

“Tell me about it,” Ladybug sighed, before glancing at Adrien. “Thanks for taking care of her- well, me, Adrien. There’s gonna be a lot of tough times in the future but there’ll be a lot of good too.”

With a look at Marinette, the words came out of Adrien before he could stop them. “I think they’ll all be good.”

Chat sighed, picking up Emma. “I would make fun of you. But I’m exactly the same. Guess we’re even,” he grinned, offering a fist. When Adrien reciprocated, his fingers stung from the sheer force of a simple fist bump.

“Seriously man, what are you eating?”

“Nothing healthy. My wife’s family owns a bakery after all,” Chat said with a wink at Marinette. He turned to open a portal and Adrien squinted from the flash of light.

“Thanks for babysitting kiddos!” Ladybug smiled with a wave. Adrien could hardly wave back before the two of them were gone and the room was left with him and Marinette and their two sleeping kwamis.

And a hundred or so posters of Adrien.

“I really thought you’d be more into me,” Adrien mumbled in the empty room. “But you couldn’t stop gawking at Chat Noir!”

Marinette scoffed. “You weren’t slick about your staring at Ladybug either.”

Adrien rubbed the nape of his neck. “I was just… looking at how your suit would change. Very interesting, you know.”

“Really?”

“Oh yeah. You have less spots in the future. It’s fascinating, right?”

“I guess. Your tail was longer too.”

“Is that so?”

“Yep.”

Adrien bit back a smile. “Well thank you for admitting you were checking out my future ass, Marinette.”

Instantly, he dodged the pillow thrown his way by her that he’d anticipated. Her face was flushed and he couldn’t get enough of how adorable it was. He’d have to soak it all up before she became all cool and confident like she was in the future.

With all the laughing and pillows being thrown around, Adrien didn’t hesitate in grabbing Marinette’s waist and pulling her closer to him. The two were wrapped together now on the couch and while the proximity was familiar, the racing heartbeat he felt at being so close to her was new.

“You really have Emma’s eyes,” she muttered, staring at him.

“You have Emma’s hair.”

“You have Emma’s nose,” she answered with a playful flick of it.

Adrien smiled, letting his eyes wander down her face. “You have her…” he trailed off, bashful of even saying the word.

Someday, he’d have a kid with this girl. But for now, he couldn’t even bring himself to get past the initial awkward shyness of two sixteen-year-olds around their first loves.

“What do you think?” Marinette asked hesitantly. “Of our… Our future together?”

Adrien grinned. “I love it.”

“Do you really think I’ll be a good mother one day?” she asked, suddenly leaning in closer. Adrien was sure she could hear the hitch in his heartbeat, pressed against him like this.

His partner, his best friend, his first love, the love of his life… how did he get so lucky? All in a day, he’d found all these people with just a little bit of the future.

Adrien brought his lips to Marinette’s cheek and pressed a kiss at the corner of her lips. “I think you’ll make a great mother,” he kissed the other corner. He leaned back for a second to share a smile before pulling her close enough that no distance remained. “But I think you’ll make an even better wife.”

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kiribaku-queen · 4 years ago

Text

Valentine’s Day

Pairing: Bakugou x reader

Angsty, a tiny bit of humor

Word count: 2.7K

A/N: I guess you guys like angst?? It’s not as angsty and heartbreaking like how I imagined it in my head but I hope you guys enjoy this one a lot more and the new series will be out on Monday! Also, sorry that this came out a day later. I got admitted to the hospital YET AGAIN so that’s the reason why it’s late.

Summary: You absolutely hated Valentine’s Day. Nothing like a day to remind you how unattractive and unwanted you were by the entire male population. But will all that change this Valentine’s Day?

Beep. Beep. Beep.

The loud, annoying tone of your alarm startled you awake. You picked your head up with heavy eyes and immediately turned it off. Plopping back down on your pillow, you groaned.

It was that time of year.

Valentine’s Day.

The worst day of the year, where you hated being reminded of the fact that no one liked you. Time and time again, year after year after year. No one has every confessed to you. You’ve never been in a relationship. You’ve never been given chocolates on Valentine’s Day. You always felt unwanted and unloved during this time of year. And you exactly knew why.

Momo Yaoyorozu.

Your gorgeous cousin. The smartest, prettiest, most down to earth person in your entire family. Everyone fell for her. And you couldn’t blame them. She really was like an angel sent from heaven. Down to her looks and her personality, she had it all. But it didn’t help your ego that Momo sat right behind you in class. So during this time of year, her desk would be stacked with chocolates, presents, hand written love letters from all ages.

You didn’t want to say you resented her… but you did. God, you were jealous. Was it hard to just ask for at least one letter? All you needed to feel better was one person to show you affection and maybe then, you wouldn’t feel so much hate and jealousy. But no matter how many times you prayed, each year was the same. And it was going to be the same this year too.

You arrived to your class, only to see Momo already being bombarded with boys. Boys from our class, boys from the next class over. Even some of our seniors are here to shower Momo with unconditional love. And it was only the start of the day. There was more to come.

You maneuvered your way to your seat, forcing people to get out of your way. You plopped down in your seat in an annoyed way, praying that class would start soon. But all these people around Momo and them confessing their love for her, you couldn’t help but think badly of yourself. Were you really that unattractive? What did Momo have that you didn’t. You both looked similar, considering that you were both blood related. But she just drew all the attention. No matter where she went or who she met, they always fell for her.

You glanced back at her and she was all giggling and happy. Of course she would be. It would be nice to be on the other side for once. Just once. To know that someone out there might like you. Then maybe you had a chance at love. But you can only dream. What is she going to do with all that chocolate anyway? Momo was never a fan of desserts but she can’t reject anybody either.

It was already halfway through the day and you swear time couldn’t go any slower. The teacher dismissed themselves off for the next period so everyone had a few minutes to take a break. During this time, most students went to the bathroom or went to talk to their friends in other classes. That’s what Momo and a few of her friends did. Not you. You stretched your arms in your desk and just waited for next period to begin. You were about to lay your head down on your desk when another student made his way up to you. A male student. With chocolates in hand. Instantly, your heart skipped a beat.

He was walking right at you. There’s no doubt about that. And it was clear to see that he had chocolates in his hands. Was this your time? Did someone finally find you attractive enough to have feelings for you? You straightened up in your desk as the guy approached you.

“(y/n)?” he called out your name. You bit your lip in anticipation. He bows his head down and extends his arms out to hand you the chocolates. You could literally feel your whole mood being lifted off of your shoulders and happiness and joy filled your body. But before you could say or do anything, he said something that made your heart sink right back.

“Can you please give this to Momo? I couldn’t bring myself to give it to her after seeing that massive crowd this morning. But I thought if I gave it to you, maybe I have a better chance at catching her attention. So please send in a good word for me!” he begged. Ouch. That hurt like a bitch. That whole thing about you feeling happy and having this whole bad mood being lifted off your shoulders? Yeah, that came straight back down tenfold. You got your hopes up only to be crushed in the most humiliating way.

“Yeah… yeah, I can do that,” you say, snatching the box of chocolates out of his hands. Oblivious to your behavior, he beams at you, thankful that you were ‘willing’ to do this favor for him. Your cousin comes back to see yet another Valentine’s gift waiting for her.

“Some guy wanted to give you this while you were gone,” you inform her. She was looking at the gift curiously. Then she smiles with her perfect, gorgeous smile that everyone falls for.

“Thank you, (y/n)! Goodness, I don’t even know where to put this one,” she talks to herself, looking around where she could put the little guy. Her bag was already filled with gifts. Her desk had no room. There was a pile of presents at the foot of her desk and you knew that there was still more coming. And guess what? This happened several times throughout the day, in between classes. Guys would come up to you, knowing that you were Momo’s cousin, and ask you to give her their love letters and small gifts. Guess you’ll only be know as Momo’s cousin. You couldn’t turn them down, no matter how annoyed you got. You just needed to get through lunch and a few more classes until the day was over and you were free. God, how you wanted this day to end so badly.

“Just do it.”

“I will.”

“Now.”

“I’ll do it!”

“She’s walking away!”

“I SAID I’LL DO IT!” Bakugou yells at Kirishima, gripping the letter in his hands that was already crumbled by now. Bakugou was stiff in his stance. No matter how much Kirishima and Kaminari tried to push him and convince him to walk up to you, he would.not.budge.

“C’mon. You did not stay up all night writing this letter to not give it to her,” Kaminari kind of laughs at the blonde for his uncharacteristic-like behavior. Bakugou looks up at you for the hundredth time that day, watching as you gracefully walked down the hallway. He was so stunned by your beauty that he was frozen in place. And by the time he knew it, you already disappeared around the corner.

“Aaaand she’s gone… way to go,” Kirishima pat his best friend on the back. Being the hot head he is, you’d assume he would do everything with confidence and be straightforward, even if it wasn’t in a romantic way. But something about you just made him freeze. You made him completely forget about this façade he puts up around people. You do something to him and he knew it wasn’t normal. He’s never felt like this before so doing anything so… cringey was foreign to him. Plus, he’s never had to go after girls because they are always the one to come to him. He was pretty popular, even he was surprised. Why would anyone like him? But it didn’t matter because the only person he was looking at was you. Now you were gone and out of sight and now he’s frustrated that he was too chicken to just hand you this damn letter.

“Tch, maybe I won’t give it to her,” Bakugou decided to give up. Now that really wasn’t like him. Kirishima and Kaminari looked at each other and smirked. If he wasn’t going to give it to you, then they were going to give him motivation to make him want to give it to you.

“Well if you’re not going to confess to her, maybe I will. It is the perfect day for that,” Denki said aloud, emphasizing each word to get through Bakugou’s thick skull. Oh, he heard it all right. Loud and clear. And he didn’t like that one bit. Anger and irritation started to bubble inside him. So much that smoke started to appear out of his fists.

“Ha?” Bakugou questioned Denki. He wanted to make sure he was hearing correctly. Almost as if he was challenging him to say it again.

“I said, I’m going to confess to (y/n),” Denki rubbed it in his face. That was it.

“I’M GONNA FUCKING KICK YOUR ASS!” Bakugou blew up, explosions coming out of both hands. Mind you, the letter was still in his hand. He just used his quirk. He just blew up his love letter to you. The ashes of the letter fell to the floor and collected in a pile on the floor. All three just looked down in silence. Hours of hard work. Of writing then rewriting and rewriting again. Crumbled up papers that were lazily thrown at the trash can and even more burnt paper filled his floor. He spent hours overcoming his embarrassment and poured his heart and soul in this damn letter only for it to be sat in a pile of ash in front of him.

“Kaminari Denki,” Bakugou said his name, low and menacing. Denki couldn’t look up. He refused to. Bakugou looked up with murder in his eyes. “Run.” “Okay.” He whispered in a small voice and bolted down the hallway with Bakugou right on his tail.

“Wait, Bakugou!” Kirishima yelled out after the two, pulling out his phone. “I took a picture on my phone! Come back!”

The next half of the day was just like the first. Multiple guys came up to you to give Momo their presents because they were too shy. It didn’t faze you anymore. When you returned from lunch, you were the first to enter your classroom and was ready to sit back down. But a note and a small box were laying on top of your desk.

You approached it and took the letter in your hands. There was no name on it. But why was it sitting on your desk? Could it be for you? No way. There’s no way you were falling for that again. You didn’t want to raise your hopes only for them to be crushed by dudes you didn’t even know. Not worth the heartache. Although, there was a slight possibility that it could be for you. Curiosity almost got the better of you and you almost opened the letter to see if it was actually addressed to you, but then you glanced at Momo’s desk. In such a short amount of time, her desk was covered in Valentine’s Day gifts. It was so much that you couldn’t fit another thing on there.

Then it hit you. Someone probably put it on your desk because there wasn’t any more room on Momo’s. That had to be the case. Bummer. Ignoring the slight ache in your chest, you gently laid the letter at the very top of the stack, turned around in your chair and waited for class to start.

Bakugou, Kirishima and Kaminari were all peeking through the window to the classroom to see you receive the letter. Bakugou, being the embarrassed, stubborn boy that he is, couldn’t bring himself to physically give you the letter himself, so he opted to setting it on your desk. At least he was still giving it to you in some way. But as soon as you flipped the letter over, he knew he messed up.

“The name, the name! You forgot to write her name!” Kirishima panicked, smacking his forehead with the palm of his hand.

“If it wasn’t for dunce face over here then I wouldn’t have rushed and forgotten to write her name!” Bakugou blamed the blonde next to him. As if he didn’t feel like an idiot then, you put the letter on the desk behind you. You thought someone mistakenly put the letter on your desk when really, it was for you!

“Kirishima!” Bakugou nudged him and he was already on his way. Sneaking past you in a nonchalant way, he swiftly secured the letter in his hands without anyone noticing and returned to the boys. Bakugou snatched it away, his heart racing. Time for plan two.

The bell rang and you could cry of happiness. The day was finally over and you couldn’t wait to get back home. You spent the whole day secretly anticipating if someone would come up to you, but it never came. You saw it coming but you didn’t think it would affect you that bad. Typical Valentine’s Day. You walked to your locker, which was coincidentally right next to Momo’s. It wasn’t hard to spot where your locker was because of the hundreds of love letters covering her locker. Were there that many people at your school that admired only one person?

You raised a brow when you saw a letter taped to your locked. Really? Momo’s locker is definitely crowded with other letters, but there was still room at the bottom for more. You frowned, took the letter and taped it back up on your cousins’ locker. There. That wasn’t so hard. You gathered your things quickly and headed home, finally.

The three friends were now hiding before the corner, waiting until you reached your locker. There was no way you could mistake it now. It was fully on your locked and Bakugou wrote your name on it. What could go wrong? Oh no. Bakugou squinted. The more and more he looked, the more he could see your name was missing. No, he definitely put your name there, he was sure of it. That was when he realized that he taped the letter on the wrong side! The side of the letter where your name was, was facing the locked instead of the other way around. Idiot! He got so nervous he made such a critical mistake. Another fail, once again. But third time’s the charm. When you walked away, Bakugou took it upon himself to take back his letter and chased after you. After two failed attempts, he was not going to let it happen again.

Bakugou chased you out of the school building and onto the school grounds, right by the gate.

“Oi, (y/n)!” Bakugou called out your name. You jumped at the sound of your voice and turned around. The wind blew your hair out of the way like a move and the sun was hitting you just right that Bakugou’s cheeks turned pink. He jogged up to you until he was only a few feet away.

When you saw that THE Bakugou Katsuki was talking to you, you felt your voice get caught in your throat. Oh god. Your name came out of his mouth. He was talking to you. This was unreal.

“Here,” He extended his hand out and gave you a letter with a small box of chocolates. You were excited to see him at first, but when you saw what was in his hands, your heart deflated. You were tricked yet again. He was going to ask you to give it to Momo and of course, you’d say yes. You take his gifts and give him a fake, half smile.

“Yeah, I’ll give them to Momo for you,” you tell him. You turn around but Bakugou grabs your arm and spun you back around, shocking you.

“Why would you give it to Momo?” he asks. That left you confused.

“Isn’t this for-“

“It’s for you,” he interrupts you. You stare into his eyes to see if he was joking. He was being dead serious. Then, your heart started to beat again. He liked you. You. Out of everybody in that school. You. He found you beautiful. Funny. Easy to be around. Down to earth. Momo was everything you were and more. But Momo wasn’t you. And he chose you.

#bakugou x reader #bakugou imagine #katsuki bakugou #bnha bakugou #bakugou #my hero academia #bnha imagines #boku no hero academia

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ahkaahshi · 4 years ago

Text

enchanted [bokuto koutarou x reader]

pairing: bokuto koutarou x fem reader

genre: smut (18+)

warning(s): explicit sexual content, nylon/lingerie fetish, thigh riding, penetrative sex, car sex, slight praise kink, creampie, brief mentions of drug usage, implied alcohol consumption, bo calls reader “bunny”

word count: 2.6k

overview: bokuto just can’t keep his hands to himself, and why should he when his precious girlfriend looks so hot in her costume?

notes: I definitely drew a hint of inspiration from geralt and yennefer for these matching costumes lol I mean they’re hotties so why not?? also, hope everyone has a safe and happy halloween this year :)

Inside the large house packed to the brim with partygoers, you’re only aware of the throbbing bass knocking the air out of your lungs, the heat creating a thin veil of sweat on your skin, and your boyfriend’s large hands on your waist. His fingers tighten against the black, lacy lingerie serving as the top of your costume for the evening before sliding down the slits of your long, silky skirt and tracing along the decorative edging of the thigh-highs held up by a garter belt hiding beneath the material covering your lower half. The sensation of his warm breath against the hot skin on your neck as he leans over your shoulder sends pleasant tingles down your spine, and you tilt your head toward him to press another kiss against his lips that has him humming affectionately.

Saying that the two of you hadn’t been able to keep your hands off each other since reuniting at the notorious Halloween party the men’s volleyball team threw each year would be a sore understatement. Though you and Bokuto hadn’t arrived together in the spirit of keeping your appearances a surprise, everyone in the entire house now knew that the two of you were an item if they hadn’t before. Aside from the time you’d spent meandering around to speak with a few of his other teammates, your attention had been largely focused on your him—and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

With the way he looks in the dark trousers that strain around his muscular thighs and the white button-up shirt that’s all but buttoned up, you can hardly resist him. And it’s clear that he feels the same way about you given how he’s spent the entire evening with his hands on you, fingers wandering up and down the semi-sheer material of your delicate hosiery and the lace adorning the lingerie you wear beneath the cover of your dark cloak.

The dragon pendant of your necklace thumps against your sternum as you dance to the music pulsing throughout the house’s interior decorated with orange and purple lights, ghost and skeleton streamers, and other, random Halloween-related paraphernalia. His grip moves your hips against his in cadence with the beat, and your bodies are melded together so seamlessly that it’s almost as if you can feel every part of him against you. A gentle tug at one of your sides prompts you to turn around so you’re facing him, and, in spite of the chaos surrounding you, he’s the only person you see.

His golden eyes are clouded with a noticeable and recognizable haze as they gaze into yours before departing to roam over your figure. The way you look under the flashing lights, swaying to the music in a rather suggestive manner has him feeling enchanted. As if you’ve fully embodied the sorceress persona of your costume and cast a spell on him that made it impossible for him to keep his attention off of you.

You continue moving to the music as you wrap your arms around his neck, (e/c) eyes watching the way the matching necklace he’s wearing rises and falls against his exposed, heaving chest. Gripping the cloak draped loosely around his shoulders to coordinate with yours, you pull him closer to you, undeterred by the stagnant heat of all the bodies in the room. Clearly, he’s not the only one who’s spellbound by his significant other.

“Kou,” you mention in as low a voice as you possibly can, given the bass that swallows every sound in the room aside from the buzz of chatter and bouts of raucous laughter.

Breath tinged slightly of beer fans over your face as he replies, in a husky voice that has you struggling to keep your thighs apart, “What’s up, bunny?”

Your heart warms at the pet name that leaves his mouth seemingly out of pure instinct, and you allow him to pull your body flush against his as you move your face closer to his ear. “Can we get outta here for a bit?” you request sweetly before adding, “I want you. Badly.”

“Fuck, you don’t even need to ask, pretty girl,” he groans, hands sliding down to your rear to give it a firm squeeze. You know he’s been waiting all night for this, and it shows in his eagerness to take your hand in his so he can guide you through the throngs of costumed partygoers hanging around each area of the property. Too impatient to go upstairs and search for a free room—since he lives in an apartment with you rather than in the house with some of his other teammates—he, instead, leads you out the front door, past a group of vampires passing around a blunt and a very disgruntled Sakusa donning the mask he’d incorporated into his costume, and out to his car parked around the side of the property.

Holding open the back door for you, he ushers you inside quickly to keep you from being exposed to the chill in the brisk, nighttime air for too long before sauntering around to the other side. The instant both the doors are shut and locked, Bokuto’s pulling you onto his lap and pressing hot, passionate kisses against your lips. The tension building in your core has you unintentionally rutting against his thigh and moaning into his mouth as his tongue slides along yours while his hands knead the supple skin on your ass.

“Wanna ride my thigh, bunny?” he breathes. The way his normally bright and cheery eyes are narrowed at you and filled with lust has heat rushing between your legs in an instant, and you nod enthusiastically. “Take off my pants and make yourself feel good, then, baby.”

Your hands move to his belt, unbuckling it so you can undo the fly of his trousers and push them down. His large palms come to rest atop yours, and he lifts his hips so he can help you slide the fabric below his knees, giving you ample space to work with. The cloak over your shoulders is quickly shed, and his fingers are moving to the waistband of your skirt to relieve you of any fabric separating your now dripping pussy from the bare skin on his thigh. When he notices you reach to undo the lingerie bodysuit you’re wearing, he halts your efforts by grabbing your wrists.

“Leave it on.” The pace of your heart skips a beat as his hand slides between your legs to trail along the thin layer of wet fabric preserving your modesty. A small whine of desperation leaves your mouth that transforms into a squeak of surprise when he pushes the material aside, putting your glistening folds on display. “You look so pretty like this—all worked up over the thought of my cock,” he muses, nestling his face in your neck to pepper your heated skin with kisses, “You’re so sweet, bunny.”

A loud moan escapes your lips at the feeling of your sensitive clit meeting the firm skin on his thigh when he pushes your hips down toward it. Placing your hands on the upholstered surface of the backseat to steady yourself, you begin grinding against his leg, drawing more cries and mewls of satisfaction from your own mouth. Bokuto loves the way you look when you’re getting off, and he loves seeing you riding his thigh while wearing the prettiest lingerie you own. With a small hum of satisfaction, he allows his hands the freedom to roam across the soft material of your nylons before sliding them up to your breasts.

The sensation of his fingers tugging down the sweetheart neckline of your top so he can roll your hardened nipples between them has you moaning out his name rather loudly. Out of your own desperation to please him as well, you reach for the noticeable bulge in his boxer briefs, palming his erection as you continue rutting against his thigh, coating his skin in your essence. Before you can slip off the fabric around his lower half, though, he’s hooking a finger in the necklace hanging in front of your chest and pulling you closer to him so he can take one of your nipples in his mouth instead.

“Kou!” you cry wantonly, feeling the heat in your core building at his actions in combination with the delicious friction against your clit with each drag of your hips along his leg, “Feels so good!”

“You love getting yourself off on my thigh, don’tcha, pretty baby?” The low yet gentle tone in his voice sends more waves of pleasure coursing through you, and you can barely stay focused enough on anything aside from chasing your own orgasm to nod in response to his question. “Gonna cum soon?”

A “Yes,” escapes your mouth in a gentle whimper, but you add, “Want you inside me, baby; please. Wanna feel your big cock inside of me.”

“Yeah?” he growls, jaw instinctively clenching when your hands return to the waistband of his underwear to slide it past his hips. Giving him another nod, you move your face closer to his so you can press more passionate kisses against his lips in the hopes of making the desire you’re sure he already feels burn brighter. Sure enough, the sensation of your delicate, careful fingers wrapping around the shaft of his thick cock as you continue grinding against his thigh and dragging your tongue along his soft lips causes his grip to tighten around your waist.

Another one of your squeals bounces around the hot air inside the car when he lifts your hips from his thigh so he can position your entrance above his dick and slowly plunge inside of your familiar and welcoming warmth. You murmur softly, eyes screwing shut at the bittersweet sensation of his size stretching your walls to their limits as he pushes deeper and deeper into your core. His thumb traces your hipbone in slow circles to help you relax, since he can feel the tight squeeze of your pussy clenching around him—nearly forcing him out with each contraction.

“There you go, bunny,” he soothes, golden eyes trained on the sight of his cock disappearing inside of you, “Mm, good girl! You always take me so well.”

Your walls flutter around him at the praise, eliciting a gentle groan from his throat. “Kou…” you utter quietly, your voice no louder than a breathless whisper as he bottoms out, “You feel so good, baby.”

The kisses he plants along your jaw are sweet and tender to match the slow pace you set when you begin riding him. Small grunts of pleasure fall off his lips and onto your skin each time your hips sink back down towards his, fully sheathing him inside of you once more. A small whimper bubbles in your mouth with each small thrust of his upwards, pushing himself just that tiny bit deeper inside of you and nudging your cervix. Your legs are quaking with both fatigue, pleasure, and yearning as you use then to move his dick in and out of you.

“A little faster, baby; c’mon,” he encourages, gripping the nylon wrapped around your thighs for a moment before placing his hands on your hips so he can help you set a quicker pace. Soon, the pleasure of his cockhead hitting your sensitive spot fills you with more desire, and you find yourself falling into the rhythm he sets, riding him faster and harder than you’d been before. “That’s it! You’re making me feel so fucking good.”

As you find yourself nearing your orgasm once more, your head rolls back and you release more feverish pants and mewls of delight. The sensations of your boyfriend plunging deep inside of you are wonderful, but you can’t seem to push yourself over the edge. Bokuto knows how close you are with the way your pussy squeezes him so desperately, and his own craving to ravish you floods his body in what feels like an instant to you.

Before you know it, you’re being pushed sideways onto the backseat, splaying your body out across it. Your legs instinctively fall apart to accommodate his broad torso between them, and your core stretches once more when he enters you again. The little space available in the back of the car has your hot bodies in close quarters, causing the windows to fog up even more—until they’re nearly opaque. Now, he’s thrusting into you harder and faster than you could’ve hoped to fuck yourself while riding him, and he feels so damn good.

“Fuck, Kou!” you moan, “Right there! I’m—ahh—I’m gonna cum. Please!”

The entire car shakes with the force he’s using to slam into you, hellbent on helping you reach your high. His skin slaps against yours and more praises rain down on you from his mouth, shaking with the intensity of his thrusts and effort. “You can do it; c’mon! Cum for me, bunny. Wanna see that cute, little face you make.”

Your mouth falls open moments later and your hands move to his shirt, gripping the fabric tightly between your fingers as a powerful orgasm washes over you. His name is the only word you can utter over and over again in a breathless chant while your body shudders and your pussy spasms around him. Seeing his precious girlfriend in such a state of disarray and ecstasy, pulling him close to her and crying out for him as she cums around his cock awakens an animalistic desire within Bokuto that has him driving into you at breakneck speed until he sees stars and feels the knot in his own stomach come undone.

Cursing loudly and moaning unabashedly, he releases inside of you in such a large load that his seed seeps out of your core before he’s even finished riding out his high. He could care less about the seats or your lingerie getting dirty, though, with how divine you feel and sound. His heavy pants fan across your skin once his pace slows, and there’s a few beats of silence before he opens his eyes and looks down at you once more. Chest rising and falling in deep breaths, (e/c) eyes slowly fluttering open and struggling to focus on him in your euphoric haze, droplets of sweat beading on your forehead and tender skin, he can only think about how beautiful you are—and will always be—to him.

“Fuck, (f/n),” he sighs, another one of those bright smiles of his spreading across his lips as he admires you, “I can’t believe I’m the one that gets to take you home with me.”

You giggle softly against his lips when he leans down towards you to bestow a few, affectionate kisses against yours. “Likewise,” you respond once he allows you a break for air, running your fingers along the strong muscles in his back.

He groans softly and lifts your back off the seat so he can sit up and pull you into his lap before wrapping his arms around you. “I don’t even wanna go back inside,” he comments as he places his head on your shoulder, “I just wanna go back home with you.”

“Aww, is the party animal all tuckered out now?” you tease and mindlessly card your fingers through his spiked, salt and pepper colored hair.

His grip around you tightens in response before he answers, “Nope, not at all.” The sensation of his lips dancing along your neck has you humming expectantly and closing your eyes as you lean into him. “Because once we get home—before we settle down, eat some candy, and watch a movie together—I’m gonna make you cum more times than you can count, bunny.”

treat me to a coffee! ⭐︎ kinktober masterlist

taglists (see pinned post on my blog for form)

general: @dinablossom, @newfriendjen, @devlovesramen, @ohbyunhunn, @aftcrlust, @mister-future, @kyleclxin, @kac-chowsballs, @osamusmiya, @nit-sir-hc, @arixtsukki, @shinsurou, @ichorizaki, @dominikmagnus

bokuto: @why-aminot-dead, @lotsoffandomrecs, @atsunakaashi, @heyhinata, @cuddlysoftbear

#haikyuu x reader #bokuto koutarou x reader #bokuto x reader #bokuto smut #haikyuu smut #ahkaahshi gets wild #ahkaahshi's mini kinktober 2020 #x reader #reader insert #haikyuu fanfiction #tw alcohol #tw drugs #fran writes hq!!

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alicemitch09writes · 4 years ago

Text

be careful what you wish for

pairing: Prince!Sakusa Kiyoomi x Historian!Reader

summary: He didn’t mean to wish you away. He never did. labyrinth AU.

author’s notes: i have the vaguest idea of labyrinths, just depending only on what I already know from literature class and the fics I read. Also, this was an excuse to make said AU, aaaaaaaaaand because I'm a sucker for angst, I wanted to delve and write into this. Mwahahaha This turned out longer than I expected it to be, and I'm worried if I was able to deliver what I wanted to deliver. Eugh. The fact that reader is the adoptive siblings to the Miyas was an accident, because that was intended for another fic but decided to scrap that idea entirely because I have OTHER WIP fics to worry about first. Heh. Finally, I went for Sakusa because I love him and he kinda fits the general idea of this kinda angst (which was inspired by a prompt list for bakudeku originally lol). Also, if the last part seems rather rushed, sorry it's 12:59am here and I want to sleep yet I want to finish this bc I have a lotta other fics to work on.

also available on ao3.

He wished you away. Prince Kiyoomi actually wished you away.

Which was probably for the best, since, in his words were “you’ve been nothing but a hindrance, a pest” and you've been nothing but pathetic, contributing to little with your history and books, doing little to help prosper the kingdom.

And now, here you were: forever stuck in this maze-like dungeon, guarded by a hulking beast for all of eternity.

Fact remains: your first love actually wished you away.

And away you went to some castled walls, far from the kingdom you grew up in, away from civilization, far and away. Away, away, away from it all. Away from him.

Cold, numb, and hollow, tears blurred and streamed down your face through the monster's running, never letting go as you helplessly watch your kingdom shrink from view.

Then he stopped, your tears halted, heart in your throat. Arriving in your destination, it was a surprise when the monster put you down gently, huffing down at you, before leaving you to your lonesome.

(E/c) eyes slowly took in the room you were in - a wide room, marbled floors, fizzled candles in elegant stands, a plush-lookng canopy bed in the middle, with draperies made from the finest silk, there was an antechamber connecting to a library filled to the brim with books, another antechamber leading to a bath. It was a lot to take in. And strangely enough, it looked like it was waiting for a host to live in.

Shaken and raw from the events that occurred, it was only the sound of clanging iron doors that brought you out of your stupor, rushing towards the doors, shaking, banging, yelling helplessly, and begging to be free.

Huffing lowly the horned-monster disappeared into the corners of darkness, your cries falling on deaf ears.

The first few nights were spent crying.

Crying for you missed your books. Crying for you missed your apprentice and students. Crying because you missed your friends in the palace. Crying because you missed that little boy who sneaks into your room, begging for stories of time beyond him. Crying because you missed Big Brother Osamu, checking in to ensure there was something in your stomach. Crying because you missed fighting with Big Brother Atsumu. Crying because you missed chatting with Motoya. Crying because you missed the handsome visage, the aloof, sarcastic, cutting, yet gracefulness of your dear friend - Kiyoomi.

Crying because he wished you away, far, far away.

Night and day, you spent crying. So many tears were shed, too many had been dried up. Not only did you cry on the outside, but so were you on the side. Your whimpering echoing through your empty prison. Your throat had been hoarse from being used up, wailing for nobody.

Nobody was there to hear you cry, nor were there people to console you.

Alone.

Alone did you cry, alone did you suffer.

Denying everything and anything that was happening to you.

Why you? Why? What had you done? All you did was research on the country's past, pouring hours and hours in your books, often writing drafts and exchanging theories and discoveries - was that so wrong? Why you? You didn't deserve this! No! No!!!!!!!

You could deny your destiny all you want but at the end of the day, you were still imprisoned and by your lonesome. You were here. Nobody else. You.

Denying didn't change the fact that this was your reality now.

And soon, denial bled into acceptance.

Resigning to your hate, you could only feel tears start anew.

You were never to see your family again, let alone leave and see the outside world.

You would never see little Romero again.

You would never gush with your apprentice again about new discoveries and strategies, nor have educational debates with visiting historians.

You would never delight in sweets with the older Sakusas for afternoon tea.

You would never laugh with Motoya again.

You would never see Kiyoomi again.

With a heavy heart, you accepted it.

But it doesn't mean it'll hurt any less, the same way that it didn’t change the fact that your first love, the second Prince of Itachiyama, wished you away.

He didn’t mean to wish you away. He never did. It was just a rash thing he said because he was tired of people prying into his personal life, of people making decisions for him, and probably his fear and frustration that you were slipping away from him.

His status as the crowned prince meant that a lot was expected from him, even though his older brother was expected to inherit the throne. But his brother was never one for battle - too focused on politics and his people, neither was his sister - who fared better in navigation, so Kiyoomi was set to become the commander of the Royal Guard. It was a given since he born and bred for it. His skill and strategic mind were not to be underestimated, as he's led the kingdom to many victories and earned the respect of kings, generals, nobles, and soldiers. His prominent fame eventually caught on different aspects of his life, so it was only a matter of time before marriage was brought into the discussion.

Try as he might, he was a royal and these were inevitable. That doesn't mean he likes people prying into his private life, disliked it even more, when they began to question his relationships - especially with you, the royal historian.

A well-regarded historian, who practiced a bit of politics, you were someone he sought before deciding to go to war or for just a friendly debate over philosophy and strategies. What you thought of his strategies mattered a lot to him, he held your opinions over anyone's in the castle - even to his own parents. It wasn't to say because you were childhood friends, but he recognized your abilities as a historian. You did a lot of things, aside from chronicling the day-to-day life of royals. You were unique, for you were keen on gaining knowledge and voiced your ideas and opinions, never fearful and always respectable to whoever you were talking to.

That, and because of your closeness, became the reason that you became a target for many, for them to keep an eye on you. Sakusa knew this, tried to let it die. But the crowned prince had been too naive to the workings of twisting tales.

And then, marriage proposals were coming in. Left and right, people were badgering him. Not a moment's rest when they were on the brink of war for god's sake! He was not interested, leaving the proposals unanswered for all he cared.

One summer's night, a ball had been prepared to celebrate the foundation of their kingdom. As expected, visiting dignitaries and royals were invited.

("Chatterboxes who don't really have a place in this palace except a name," he'd mutter under his breath, you laugh at his comment.)

As the royal historian, you were expected and had been dressed in the finest clothes, a gift from his older sister - who absolutely fawned and adored you. Dressed in his royal robes, he felt the need to get on his knees, undeserving to be in the presence of such beauty.

In a sea full of royals and socialites, you were the prettiest thing he has ever laid eyes on, easily besting and outshining everyone.

This was the one night he was supposed to tell you how he felt about you, social status be damned, he only cared and has eyes for you and you alone.

In hushed whispers, gossip crept through the castle walls, snaking its way to each and every ear, poising and tainting their image of you. People began talking, eyes darting between him and the unsuspecting girl, who was laughing with an ambassador.

Suddenly, the whispers reached his ears, tainting his thoughts.

"Kiyoomi?" you whispered, tone laced with worry. Discreetly following after him when he pulled away from speaking with some ambassadors, you brought with you a goblet filled with water, fingers splaying over. "Are you alright?"

At the sight of you, he relaxed. Slightly. "No," bringing his fingers to his face, he massaged at his throbbing temples.

Taking a step closer, you held out the water, which he took graciously and took a small sip, eyes gazing out into the night with you next to him, not saying a word.

Behind you two, the loud music and fanfare went about. Camaraderie abounded inside that ballroom, glitz, and glamour just filling and living to their fullest as the night went on. However, on that balcony, there was nothing but silence - the silence one desperately sought for, the silence one could offer along with a companion who understood the need for said silence.

You didn't say anymore then, letting the silence fill in, working on a small smile when he looked your way and he appreciated you for it. This way, away from it all, under the moonlight, he could appreciate your beauty even more.

But it didn't last long.

One minute, you were joking about how gaudy people were dressed tonight, the next you were discussing Kiyoomi's battle plans and possible alliance with the Shiratorizawa kingdom, notorious for their undeniable power and might. They started as a small kingdom, which vastly grew over the years. Personally, you've met and been acquainted with them when they visited and enjoyed debates with Satori, Kenjirou, and even the emperor's son, Wakatoshi. Kiyoomi held said man to a high regard, never shutting up about his feats and skills. This was worrisome because Shiratorizawa was becoming especially unyielding when it comes to conquering neighbouring kingdoms - likes their recent dispute with Aoba Johsai and Karaunso, caring very little in casualties. Kiyoomi was quick to defend Wakatoshi, never minding the lives that were ignored during their rise to power, or your obvious discomfort of such alliance.

"So, I'm the bad guy now? For wanting what's best for my people?"

"What you want is war with defenseless people, in an unfair and one-sided war that'll only lead to bloodshed," you reasoned. "I just think you should rethink it, or at least have terms."

"There is nothing to rethink and no terms to talk about," his voice rises, his temper rising. "As royal historian, you should know at least that this alliance is promising and will yield results for the betterment of our kingdoms."

"You're forgetting that history is a philosophy that teaches by example," you quote, hands curling into fists. "I just don't want you making the same mistake-"

"I don't make mistakes, I make results." Something cracked in the darkness, his eyes warranting a scary drip of pride.

"That's not what I'm saying-"

"What would you know about wars and alliances anyway?"

Swallowing, you stood your ground, turning to face him. "Plenty. Enough to tell you, that as the royal historian, one mustn't needlessly push through with alliances without thinking them through first. Yes, it may yield good results but at the cost of many? I don't think so." A cold gust of wind blew, clouds rumbling overhead. "And as your friend, I worry about how rash you're being just because of Wakatoshi-"

Kiyoomi scoffed, actually scoffed at you, incredulously at how ludicrous your words were.

"God, could you be any more pretentious? Not everything is as easy as you make it!"

"Kiyoomi, stop-"

"What would you know? I wish you'd just be taken away, far away because I don't need you here when you've been nothing but a hindrance and a pest to this kingdom's chances of glory. I don't need you here when you've been nothing but a pest and a hindrance. I've clearly wasted all those years of educating you for a rather ignorant mind."

"You don't mean that,"

"Maybe, I do!" he yelled, throwing the goblet away, his voice was able to catch the attention of people nearby. "You think you know everything, just because of your books that talks about dead people-"

"Kiyoomi-"

"-then you talk to me as though I haven't learned about them and disregard the fact that I’m trying to be better than them-“

“I know, Kiyoomi, I know-“

“Shut up, you don’t know! Just like you don’t know a thing outside your books, it’s not always as it was written! You don’t know just how difficult it is to really man an army, let alone try to make efforts to ensure that we make it out alive. You wouldn’t understand how weary the job is at the end of the day, because you’re happy being in the castle surrounded by your books all day. You wouldn’t understand, so just leave this to me,” overhead, thunder rumbled loudly, ferociously. Kiyoomi took a step, you took a step back. “Stop nagging me over things I already know!”

Lower lip quivering, you bit down, chin held up high as you asked. “D-Don’t my opinions matter to you, Kiyoomi?” it was a question laced with hurt, enough to guilt him, but Kiyoomi didn’t yield.

“Just stop!” his breathing was shaking, harsh. Consumed completely by anger, frustration, and fear, his eyes met yours, voice cold as he said, “I wish that you were taken away, there’s no place in the palace for someone so ignorant and a hindrance to the prosperity we’re guaranteed to have. If you can’t join us, you might as well be a pest.”

Famous last words.

Something compelled him to say it, he couldn't stop himself and the words just went out.

Fear, frustration, anger, all pushed him to his boiling point.

Twin pools of (e/c) widened, slowly filling with pain and tears, stopping him cold.

All the words he’s said comes crashing over him, regret quickly followed. Kiyoomi pales, feeling cold all over.

“(Y/N)-“

And then came chaos.

Crashing in uninvited, wildly wreaking havoc with little regard of who was in the way. Panic screaming, yelling, and thrashing.

And then, it lifted its head. To the balcony. Its blank eyes dilating, narrowing at the sight of you.

Kiyoomi only had a moment to realize what was going to happen before it was too late.

One moment, the horned-monster was in the middle of the dance floor. The next, it was barrelling its way towards the two of you, pushing anyone in its path, destroying the doors, grabbing you harshly, and throwing you over its shoulder, all in one second. Kiyoomi hadn't realized that he had been pushed away, blood matting his hair, his robes–

"(Y/N)!" but it was too late, the Minotaur was speeding away with you in its grasp.

Shakily, he tried to get to his feet, only to fumble.

“(Y/N)…”

He tried again.

"(Y/N)..."

And again.

"(Y/N)..."

Again.

Slumping against the ground, his eyes never left the direction the Minotaur left with you in tow.

'I wish you were taken away...'

Twin pools of (e/c). Broken. Destroyed. Humiliated. Tears flowing.

He couldn’t focus. Nothing was right. No. Nothing felt right. Something tightened in his chest. Breathe. Breathe. How do you breathe again? Plink! Something wet fell down on him, wetting his hair, his robes, blood smearing on the marbled floors. Blood. That was his blood. He hit his head. His blood. Blood smeared. To his hands – since when had he fallen to his knees? And screaming. Anguish. Pain. Regret. Screaming. Wait, was somebody screaming?

Oh, wait.

It was him.

He was on his knees.

He was screaming.

Screaming through the pouring rain as he bled.

Dread washed over him when he realized that his wish had been granted, you were whisked away by a beast and never to be seen again.

You slipped away from him, only because he wished for it.

The labyrinth was a rather large domain.

Massive concrete walls, quiet stones that suffocated you with silence, enough to drive you mad. A maze that was endless in its length, wide in its berth, and dizzying to traverse.

Many were the days you spent roaming around, in high hopes you've found an exit, only to find yourself in a dead-end. Many were the days where you practically rammed yourself into walls, hoping for a secret exit. Many were the days where you hoped, that if you crashed hard enough or hit yourself hard enough, you'd wind up unconscious, never to wake again. Dead. You didn't want to stay here forever.

But one day, as you were walking about, you happened upon the strangest thing - a garden. A hidden garden, to be exact.

Walking towards and through the archway, you were greeted with something that was a sight for weary eyes. A lush garden, filled to the brim with blossoming flowers as far as the eye can see. And fruit trees! The rarest you can find and have only heard of from stories. It stretched the whole area that you almost forgot that you couldn't tell if it was closed in by the labyrinth's high walls.

Taking a step in, bare feet meeting the damp grass, for the first time in what seems like forever, you broke into a shaky, wet laugh. Hands covering your mouth as you walked further in, uncaring. (E/c) eyes were filled with tears anew, tears of joy.

The air was fragrant, sweet, comforting. Flowers, colorful flowers in different shapes and sizes painted the gardens with vibrant colors and life.

Alive, the garden was alive, buzzing dragonflies, fluttering butterflies, and other smaller insects.

Feeling something warm kiss your sigh, you made a shaky sound - a gasp. Slowly, you began to breathe. Sighing, you craned your head up to meet the sky up above you. Squinting, your eyes fell shut, soaking it in.

You were probably up in the highest tower, for you were encased in a glass ceiling, allowing the sun to shed its light down on you, on the greenery.

The garden was spectacular, almost like the ones in the castle.

You lost track of time, but you didn’t care. This little heaven was all that you had, even if it were lonely.

Many were the days, with tear-dried face, did you wonder if you were going to go insane in here. Many were the days spent memorizing paths – some were useful, like the way to your chambers and the garden, while many paths proved useless, meaningless. Like the labyrinth knew you’d want to find a way out, giving you nothing.

Acceptance bled from denial.

However pretty your prison was, sadly, you remind yourself again, Kiyoomi wished you away.

A bruised cheek and a split lip. To many, injuries would be a badge of honor to satisfy their male ego. But for Prince Kiyoomi, they might as well be a badgeof dishonor. And for two good reasons - each came from your adoptive brothers, Atsumu's having the most hits since he was the oldest, boiling with rage after finding out that his youngest sister was taken away because of him. Crowned prince be damned, Atsumu would gladly beat him black and blue, had Bokuto not stopped and held him back.

Osamu would surely help, without a doubt. The punch he delivered was undoubtedly was painful. And that was it, followed by a long, cold, hard stare and nothing else. Miya Osamu was always known to be the calmer twin with a filter to his language and could be just as vile with his words as his twin. But his silence, that long, cold, hard stare was enough. His silent gaze was burning enough, a thousand words dying to be said that cut through thanks to his fist. A split lip and message received.

You were too good for him, that much the twins knew.

You were sweet, headstrong, brave, and annoyingly book smart, but still way too good for someone like the third crowned prince of Itachiyama.

Atsumu didn't like it that his (self-proclaimed) rival and commanding officer was romantically tied to his beloved sister. Osamu doesn't give a shit, so long as you were happy, but he was miffed by the fact that he was royalty.

"It's so cliche," he'd tell you, brandishing some rice balls in three different variants. "he's a prince, you're a commoner. That in itself is a recipe for disaster."

Unamused with your older brother's words, you eyed the rice balls in his tray before taking the one in the middle, wolfing without thinking. "Yum!"

"Oi, listen to yer brothers when we're talkin'!" yelled Atsumu, who grabbed the other onigiri, spitting rice everywhere.

"You piece of shit for a brother, don't talk with your mouth full!" but rice also flew everywhere from when you opened your mouth.

Sighing, Osamu took the last onigiri for himself, taking bites as the two of you fought.

Kiyoomo, who had just arrived, could only watch as the Miya siblings fought amongst themselves before the argument died down and you were all laughing at something. Without a doubt, the twins loved you, even though you weren't blood-related.

Looking up, you waved at him with a wide, warm, welcoming smile. Osamu inclined his head, a sort of bow. Atsumu coolly two-finger saluted him, his commanding officer by the way.

Osamu trusted him.

Atsumu trusted him.

They trusted him.

And what did they get? A brokenhearted sister who's now held captive somewhere.

He deserved it, Kiyoomi knew without a doubt that he deserved it and more.

After all, who wishes their childhood friend away?

Who wishes the person they're madly in love with away?

With badges of dishonor brandishing his face, Prince Kiyoomi set out on a quest: to find and rescue you. No matter what.

As far as the books you've read have told, Minotaurs were supposed to be blood-thirsty creatures who devoured on sacrifices kept in the labyrinth. But this Minotaur was different. First of all, it appeared out of nowhere. There had been countless sightings of strange creatures within and outside the kingdom, but they'd been territorial and respectable of keeping their distance from humans. And through your desperate walks around he maze, there were no signs of bones, of any sacrifices that legends told you the creature devoured of. Nothing.

Instead, the creature was just there. Tall. Hulking. Intimidating. Silent. Watching.

When you saw each other, it just stared. It didn't try to stop you, because only it knew the way out, and no way was he willing to let you escape.

It didn't seem to have a master, either.

It just was.

Day in and day out, it was just there.

Unnerving you.

You knew you'd never escape.

Many of your days were spent in the gardens. Sometimes in your room, with a comfortable bed, a warm hearth, and all the books you could read to your heart's desire, and a single gilded narrow window. In the garden, the window was up above you, far within your reach even if you climbed the trees. As though it were a reminder.

Sometimes, when you stared too long at the windows, you could hear the Minotaur huffing behind you, almost laughingly. Mockingly.

Pretty as your prison was, so long as the beast lingered, you knew you weren't safe forever.

Perhaps it was biding its time? Waiting on you to accept death, surrender to it before it could do it's bidding? Maybe it just wanted a dame to lure victims in wanting a chance to prove their heroism? Or maybe it just wanted you to share fate, to stay here in this maze forever? You couldn't escape even if you tried anyway.

Ferocious as he was, the horned-beast saw to it that you were fed, bringing you meals during breakfast, lunch, dinner. Occasionally, he’d bring some fruits. At times, some books and gifts to keep you entertained. When your dress – the beautiful dress the older Sakusa gave you that night – was tattered, ruined, he had given you a new one. It was a wonder where he got these gifts.

“Thank you,” (e/c) eyes turned to the hulking creature, who huffed in response, then left.

Denial bled into acceptance.

If this was your fate forever, then so be it.

After all, Sakusa wished you away for it.

As disappointed as he was in his cousin, Motoya couldn't find it in his heart to hate his cousin completely.

With a brother and sister, both of which who were much older than him, they were all busy learning how to run the castle. His parents were no exception either, as the king and queen of the kingdom. Kiyoomi spent so much of his time alone, growing rather quiet and aloof with his surroundings.

Luckily, the Komori family was there, Motoya was right by his side. But Kiyoomi was still quiet and a bit of a snob.

That was until the Miyas arrived.

The Miyas, who came from the west with two strapping young boys and an adopted bright-eyed girl. They worked around the palace as smith and cook, respectively, the twins always bickering amongst themselves while the youngest quietly tended to her books. More often than not, she'd sneak off to the royal library and read.

Motoya remembered seeing her deep in the library, nose stuck to the book as her eyes glimmered with life, drinking in information with scary speed. She was on her third book. He was with Kiyoomi then, the two were doing self-study, but stopped at the sight of the strange Miya girl.

The next day, Kiyoomi asked for her name. “Miya (Y/N),” she said, tucking a book under her arms, bowing slightly, before walking away, books in tow. Probably to return them.

The day after, she was joining in their self-study, often debating about the histories she read with him, which ended up as a full-blown discussion not even part of their studies!

The next, next, next day, she wasn't there, having been scolded for running off too much to read her books. However, Kiyoomi came to her defense, and (Y/N) was granted access to the library. She eventually caught the attention of the royal librarian before taking the little girl under her wing. Never had Motoya seen (e/c) eyes shine so bright that they rivaled the best jewels some snobby royals had. Later that day, as her older brothers were fighting amongst themselves (for possibly the nth time) and he and his cousin were passing by, (Y/N) saw and ran up to them and did the impossible: she tackled Kiyoomi into a hug! Motoya, and the Miya twins, stared in shock. Nobody just hugs the prince like that, he doesn't like to be touched! Nobody!

But Kiyoomi just stood there, taking in the hug, arms awkwardly raised to the smaller girl's form, before decidedly resting on hand on her shoulder, and the other to pat her head. Not one ounce of disgust registered on his cousin's face. Instead, he saw a soft smile, his onyx eyes warm at the girl.

And the rest was history.

Over time, (Y/N) had proven herself with her studies - as her brothers had proven themselves as well as soldiers, showing promise with each passing. Motoya was amazed by her academic prowess, her sound mind, and cunning demeanor, no wonder she wounded up as the royal historian. He'd like to think his cousin played a role in there somewhere. More often than not, Kiyoomi would endorse her to his teachers, her ideas and opinions, too.

It was no secret that since her promotion, Kiyoomi would always seek her out.

It was no secret either that, eventually, the older Sakusa siblings would hear about infamous Miya (Y/N) and fawn over her.

It was no secret either that Kiyoomi only his eyes for her, having been his cousin’s close-confident regarding confusing feelings and possessiveness over her. For someone who always saw things through, who absolutely refused to do anything half-assed, Motoya made sure to poke at his cousin’s rather slow pace with her. Kiyoomi would reason that the timing was never there, because of his duties, and he didn’t want her to get caught in the drama brewing amongst castle chatterboxes. He wanted to protect her from that. Yet he failed.

Guilt was written all over Kiyoomi’s face the night (Y/N) had been taken away. Unflinching from the cold rain, the blood in his hands, his head injury, Kiyoomi just looked…blank.

Since her disappearance, his cousin was a living doll, he barely slept, barely ate, and barely even cleaned himself!

Worried, Motoya saw to it himself that his cousin was taken care of. His parents would send maids to ensure he'd leave the room. His older brother would personally check in with him and talk. His older sister would rush in and forcibly take him to walks in the garden or get him to bathe. Later, Osamu would send him food to eat. Atsumu came by a few days later, pissed still at his superior, but asked him if he had any orders. Slowly but surely, he was getting on his feet. But at the end of the day, Kiyoomi would buckle from it all and just exist.

He was like a living doll, with no function, no purpose. Nothing. It was unbecoming of him.

Everything seemed pointless now.

How did the Great Commander of Itachiyama's Royal Gaurd fall so hard? Simple, it was because of her.

(Y/N) was always his greatest weakness just as she was his greatest strength. Only, he took it for granted.

Motoya couldn't find it in his heart to hate his cousin, for he knew, probably more than anyone else in the castle, how much he hated himself for what happened.

If there was one thing he knew about his cousin, it's that once he starts something, he'll be so fixated on it and ensures he finishes it through. And with his dying breath, swearing even on his sword, his life, he would- no, he will find (Y/N) and bring her back.

“Kiyoomi?” he asked, entering his cousin’s office after two knocks.

Motoya stopped at the door, noticing the maps scattered around his usually kept desk, along with some notes written in messy, familiar penmanship, the look in his cousin’s eyes.

“Motoya,” he glanced up briefly, shoulders straightening, hands planted on each side of the desk.

“Do you have any leads?” the brunet starts, walking further in.

And Motoya would be there, to help him bring his heart back.

At night, you see him in your dreams.

Intimidating, tall, handsome, wearing that rare smile of his, one that reached his eyes. A secret-like smile, one he shared for those who were worthy of it.

Kiyoomi would be sitting by the pavilion in the castle gardens, watching you across him, head titled slightly, before his lips curled.

And then you’d wake up.

Immediately, your hands fetched for your books, a pencil, to sketch him before your memory of the dream fades – finely shaped jaw, twin beauty marks over his left eye, thick curls, inquisitive dark eyes, long nose, supple lips, his rare smile- only to pause. Stop. Then cry.

Tears starting anew, you looked down at your sketch – of Sakusa Kiyoomi smiling at you, breaking into a watery laugh, free hand shakily touching your sketch. “K-Kiyoomi…”

Dropping the sketch, you covered your mouth with one hand, the other fisted over your heart.

What was the point?

You loved him for the longest time. You’ve been stuck in this one-sided love for your childhood friend for as long as you can remember.

But as the crowned prince, and soon-to-be great commander of the Royal Guard, something as trivial as a romance - with the royal historian of all people, a person with questionable ancestry? It was not meant to be.

Had you been given a chance between taking you away forever and forgetting him forever, you would gladly choose the latter.

Because nothing hurts more than to remember every day that the person you love wished you away, crushing your heart and everything inside. At least when you forget, so will the feelings, leaving you hollow and numb. Ready to start anew.

You were sure he was happiest with your disappearance, finally getting the chance to be closer to Wakatoshi from Shiratorizawa, solidifying the alliance.

You did miss Komori. Your adopted brothers. Your friends. Your apprentice. Your home.

But they were gone now, soon to be a forgotten memory.

Here you stay and here you shall remain, doom to remember until your dying breath how your love wished you away.

Prince Kiyoomi dreams of you.

In his dreams, you were a sight to behold in cream, your (h/c) hair freely falling upon your bare shoulders as you poured into another book. When he walks up behind you, he scoops your hair away and plants a kiss to your shoulders, neck, cheek. A light giggle was his reward, curling his lips upward before he was met with (e/c) eyes.

You were so beautiful.

A sight to behold.

You'd say his name ever so lightly, gently, warmly, and with love. The only way he knew his name should be called leaving your plump lips. Plump lips that looked so inviting and endearing, making him want to lean in-

And then he'd wake up.

Prince Kiyoomi dreams of you. A lot.

Has been for the last 18 years of his life.

Has been for the past year you've been taken from him.

In his dreams, you would be in his arms.

But in reality, you were taken away from him.

All because he wished you away.

It was a plain and simple reminder that you had to remember: he was a prince, you were the royal historian. Nothing more, nothing less.

You didn’t come from royalty like him, so he was out of your reach. You could love him, but what good is the love of a lowly peasant girl? A girl with questionable origins, plucked from the ruins by kindly gentlefolk who took her in?

Even though you were regarded as a genius, strategic in mind that rivaled that of the crowned prince, you were still just a peasant. Someone was regal like Kiyoomi deserved nothing but the best.

Despite having your heartbroken, you smiled at Kiyoomi, eyes filled with so much love. Not knowing that it would be the last time he’d see you.

Later that night, in front of his constituents, brought by frustration and fear of his position and of your social classes, Prince Sakusa rashly wishes for you to be taken away. Not a second later, a Minotaur comes crashing in to take you away. Forever.

Wish granted.

There were many things he regrets.

One of them being missing the chance to press his lips to yours under the rain, a rather picturesque and romantic-setting, had it not been for the fact that he accidentally napped in the palace training grounds and you were happily playing under the rain before finding him.

He still remembered your laugh, a saccharine tune that was pure bliss to listen to. Your smile, it illuminated your face, brightening the dreary downpour, warmed his insides. “Kiyoomi, get up! This is no place for the crowned prince to lie down!” Taking him by the hand, he tugged you to take shelter and he let you.

“Speak for yourself,” he snorts. “what’s the royal historian doing getting herself wet?”

Laughing, you rolled your eyes at him. “I needed a break.”

“And you think getting wet under the pouring rain warrants as break?”

“I love the rain!” you laugh, bright smile splitting open your lips and your (e/c) eyes shining brightly. Reaching a hand out, Kiyoomi watched as the smile remained on your face, watching the droplets on your outstretched hand.

Silent, the crowned prince silently set his eyes in the way your (h/c) hair darkened in the rain, your dress was soaked, yet you had laughed, carelessly, a bright and gentle sound that was threatened to drown out in the thundering downpour. Dark eyes slowly took the slope of your neck, mapping your collarbones, trailing a droplet of rain that slithered down the smooth expanse of your neck.

Kiyoomi inhaled and exhaled, shaking his head slightly, dark curls shaking with him. He heard you laugh, sounding closer.

You had leaned in, playfully poking his two beauty marks before tucking wet curls away. Entranced by you, something inside him started, dizzying, confusing, satisfying. He caught your hands in his, bringing them to his cheeks, revelling, leaning into your touch. Ever so gently, he planted his lips on the center of your palm. Breath hitching, you were unable to look away. Kiyoomi’s eyes opened slowly to meet yours, the thundering in your chest increasing. There was soft, loving, endearing look in both your eyes, something both you wondering. Only a breath away, Kiyoomi slowly leaned in, your eyes fluttering close, waiting. And he would have kissed you then and there, had Atsumu not showed up and cut the mood.

The next day, he drilled the blond bastard harder than the rest.

But the one thing Kiyoomi regrets the most was wishing you away, for he never got the chance to tell you he loved you.

Books lined and filled the room, there was a disarray of scrolls, notes, and opened books scattered on the floor, the table. And there you were, pouring words into your notebook with your sleeves pulled up, stray hair escaping your upswept (h/c) hair - messy, curious, beautiful you.

"You have ink in your fingers," he says, as a way of greeting.

Looking up, your expression breaks into a beautified smile, "Kiyoomi!" realizing what he said, you looked around, then laughed nervously at your state. Grabbing a random cloth off the chair closest to you, you wiped at your fingers, walking around to meet him. "To what do I owe the crowned prince the honor?"

He rolls his eyes at your politeness, as though you haven't been friends since you were younger.

"I had a feeling you would be spending hours on the procured books on the Great Backyard Battle between Nekoma and Karasuno. Meaning, you'd be missing out on lunch." At this, he poked the space between your brows. Hard.

“Ow!”

“I’ve sent for lunch. Join me.”

Rubbing at your forehead, your face morphs into a sly grin. “Aww, you could just say you miss me, y’know~”

There were still remnants of ink on your fingers, because you smeared some over your forehead. With a roll – graceful roll, as you put it, he grabs the cloth, turns it to the clean side, and gently rubs the ink off your forehead.

“How are your hands always this dirty?”

“Kiyoomi, I’m not ready for that kinda joke,” you giggle when he’s finished, blowing into laughter when he throws the cloth into your face.

By the day, you were becoming cheekier like your brothers. He wouldn't have it any other way.

Pulling the cloth away, you inspect your relatively clean fingers, showing them to him. Unamused, he humored you by inspecting them closely.

“Clean enough for ya?”

“It will do. But I will ask the servants for a wash or utensils.”

You reply with a giggle, falling in step with your dear friend out your study.

With ink in your fingers, rumpled clothes, and messy hair, to him, you'd still be the most beautiful woman his eyes have ever seen.

Lonely were the nights spent by your lonesome, with nothing like companionship to fill the silence, to quell the fear, to steady your sanity. Yet, here you were. Still. By some miracle.

Books had been your constant companion all your life, feeding your ever curious mind. They were relative company, but not enough to satisfy your loneliness.

The garden, thriving with life and wonder, had lots to offer. Adorning flowers, gentle little insects, they were almost a reminder of life. Still, it wasn’t enough.

Lonely were the days that came by, yet somehow, you managed through.

Managing through keeping yourself sane.

Managing through the fear of your impending doom at the hands of the Minotaur.

Managing through the ache deep inside your chest.

Night-time befell, unable to sleep, you headed to the gardens.

A full moon was out tonight, big and bright. And yet, it seemed alone, like you.

Under the moonlight, you cry and pray.

Crying for the ones you've left behind – your family, friends, students, praying that they may be well.

Crying for your kingdom, praying that it may prosper.

Crying for yourself, praying that you can still manage by.

Crying for your love, praying that he may find happiness.

Denial bled into acceptance.

Prince Sakusa Kiyoomi, Third Prince of Itachiyama Kingdom and Royal Guard Commander, your first love, wished you away.

Finally, after days, months, and little over a year of searching, he found a lead.

Without wasting a second, he arranged his best men – Atsumu first to call for duty, followed by Osamu, who quickly put on his uniform and begged to join – and set forth.

It wasn’t an easy mission.

Kozume, the oracle, wasn’t lying when he said the road would be perilous, treacherous, and tested even the strongest minds. But he wasn’t commander of the Royal Guard for nothing.

Plowing enemy after enemy, never faltering and always on their guard, his men proved that they were best of the best, in leagues with the greatest fighters in the land - akin to jackals hungry for their next prey.

Even after years of quitting the army, Osamu was a force to deal with on the battlefield, especially with Atsumu. The Miya twins, the deadliest forces to deal with, truly a sight to behold.

Whatever came their way, they pushed through.

When night-time befell, you wandered off to the gardens, unable to sleep for some reason.

Unbeknownst to you, the Minotaur had turned its head and growled under its breath. Lifting its head up, huffing angrily, readily.

“I’ll go,” Kiyoomi told his men, eyes never leaving the tall walls before them.

“I’ll come,” Atsumu says, nearly bouncing on his feet, Osamu, a bundle of nervous energy beside him. Bokuto, Hinata, Meian, Inunaki, Thomas, stood by, waiting for orders. The walls in front of them were intimidating, yet as Motoya looked at his cousin, he was surprised yet unsurprised at the same time to see that Kiyoomi seemed…determined.

“No,” Kiyoomi said, firm and stern. Without looking back, he took a step forward. “I’ll go. Alone.”

There was no moon out tonight, you thought with a heavy sigh.

How lonely.

Bringing your knees to your chest, you heaved another heavy sigh, chin tucked in, as you gazed out to the stars.

As the oracle had warned, traversing into the labyrinth won’t be easy as trials awaits him at every turn.

Kiyoomi didn’t falter at his warning, not once.

Even when he was faced with goblins.

Even when hands began to emerge from the walls, reaching for him.

Even when the walls started to close in.

Even when the walls started talking, trying to goad him to leave, escape, give up.

He didn’t budge, not even once.

Through it all, Kiyoomi had to make use of his wit to beat the labyrinth.

Kozume never said anything about beating the labyrinth, giving him little to nothing. But then, he understood you can’t beat it, you just have to outsmart it.

So when the labyrinth began a new tactic, riddling the prince at each turn, Kiyoomi met the challenge head-on.

Nothing will stop him, not even these trivial challenges that try to undermine him.

Nothing shall stand in his way.

He was a man on a mission, everything else was in his way.

Orion. The hunter. Ursa Major. The Big Bear. Ursa Minor. The Little Bear. Bitterly, sadly, you found the Northern Crown.

Draco. The dragon. Lyra. The lyre. Canis Minor. The Little Dog. Pegasus. The Winged Horse. Cygnus. The Northern Cross.

Andromeda. The Chained Princess.

The story of a princess chained to pay for her mother’s demise was one that fascinated you as a child, especially because the princess had to await her demise at the hands of some monster only to be rescued by a hero.

Oh, what a naïve little child you were–

A shooting star.

Something in you shifts, then settles, a breathless laugh leaving your lips as you hugged your folded knees tighter.

Was it wishful thinking if you wished you could be like Andromeda and be saved? Or were you still naïve?

And there it was, the Minotaur.

Hulking, maddening like he remembered that night.

The night it took away (Y/N).

It was big, bigger than anything he’s ever faced. And strong, too.

With a flick of its arm, Kiyoomi was on the side of the balcony, hitting his head against the wall. It was also fast.

However, that doesn’t mean he would yield, nor would he surrender.

He tightened his grip on his sword, expression hardened, darkened at the sight of it.

He trained like crazy after that night, worked himself to the bone to match the crazy stamina levels of one Hinata Shouyo, and strength of Bokuto Koutarou. Precision and skills were his greatest feats, but he had to be cunning and nasty like that of Miya Atsumu. Also, he had to be reserved and patient, like that of Miya Osamu.

Before him, the Minotaur let out a mighty roar, echoing through the walls, dragging its hooves readily.

Kiyoomi never let go of his sword, neither did he drop his gaze at the Minotaur.

The air was thick, heady.

A beat.

And then they both charged.

“Hey, Tsumu-Tsumu, Myaa-Sam?”

The fire crackled in front of them, burning the iron pot above it, the smell of beef stew filling in.

“Do you think Omi can save (Y/N)-chan?”

The dark-haired twin stopped stirring the pot, the blonde-dyed twin stared into the fire, clasped hand gripping tighter. A brown-haired man perked at the sound of his cousin’s name, watching the men in silence.

The fire danced, wood snapping once, then twice, before it broke into two.

And then, “What kinda stupid questions is that, Bokkun?” Atsumu smirks.

“No one’s crazy enough like him, too,” Osamu added, dropping a few spices in.

Motoya smiled, honored on behalf of his cousin at the twins’ words.

Carefully, the lid was placed in, leaving a little space for the stew to simmer for few more minutes.

A dull pain hummed in his head, followed by a sharp pain that was sure to be from a broken rib. Breathing in was torturous, heaving laboring breaths through his nose and out his mouth.

Before him, the horned-beast huffed, sporting the stabs Kiyoomi had given him.

Yet, it stood there still while he was worse for wear.

The oracle's words rang through his head again, warning him that going in was the same as wishing for a death sentence.

And yet, Kiyoomi willingly accepted in, knowing full well of the risks and consequences - because he's had a whole year to think about them from the hollowness of his chest.

You were the one thing that kept him going.

You were the light in the dark.

You were a beacon he was desperate to follow.

You were the only thing that mattered.

Getting to his feet, ignoring how his body screamed in pain, he lifted his sword.

Angered, Minotaur charged again, head lowered, horns ready to skewer him.

Kiyoomi didn't move, only shifted his position.

When it was close enough, he raised his sword.

"Hey, Kiyoomi?"

"What,"

"If there was one thing in the world that you could have, what would it be?"

"..."

"Like, you could ask for anything - power, gold, magical abilities, a nice exotic pet, what would it be?"

"..."

"Oh? What a silence."

"What a question,"

"Well? What would you want?"

"Umeboshi."

"Kiyoomi, you're just playing with me aren't you?"

It shouldn't be a question, because he already knew the answer.

You.

All Kiyoomi ever wanted in the whole world was you.

And there you were.

Basked in the moonlight, your (h/c) was longer, falling over your frame, barefooted on the grass – looking like a goddess.

His chest heaves heavily with every exhale, weary from his long battle with the Minotaur, never minding the pain and bruises, all he could see was you.

You.

After all this time.

"(Y/N)..."

You looked up in surprise, his voice cutting through the silence, and got to your feet. Staring at him in shock.

It's been so long.

Too long.

Far too long.

A year and a half was long enough for him to meet your (e/c) eyes, to see your face, to be in the same room.

"K-Kiyoomi..."

He felt his heart beating, coming to life.

Dropping his sword, letting it clatter to the ground, he slowly walked, staggering in his steps, until he was in front of you.

What an image, a knight in shining armor, bloodied and bruised- did he kill the Minotaur?!

His hair was longer, slightly greasy, you noticed in shock. He was no way vain, but he liked to look clean and proper. But since you’ve been gone, he’s forgotten to take care of himself.

Suddenly, fear gnawed at his heart, remembering the last time he saw you, remembering the last words he said to you. Did you hate him? Did you fear him?

“Kiyoomi!”

And then, you were in each other’s arms, breaking down and crying, holding each other so tight in fear that someone or something would tear you two together again. Both of you collapsed to your knees, refusing to let the other go.

Kiyoomi’s cries were silent, but the relief that washed over him from a year’s worth of guilt and regret, of finally having you in his arms, it made was indescribable.

“(Y/N),” he says your name, like it’s the holiest thing to say, his saving grace. “(Y/N)!”

Hearing your name in his voice, after so long, it made you cry even harder. Kiyoomi kept holding you as you cried, rocking you back and forth.

Something hot and wet lands on your head, followed by Kiyoomi’s voice repeatedly saying your name.

Sorry, he wants to say ‘I’m sorry’, but the words were lodged in his throat. He wants to apologize, desperately apologize for hurting her. He wants to get on his knees.

Instead, he cries into her shoulder, relief continues to wash over him because he’s hugging you again, feeling you in his arms again and hearing your cries.

Pulling away, hands desperately clung to the other’s face – smoothing through the skin, memorizing the feel beneath their fingers, eyes drinking them in.

Finally, Kiyoomi does the one thing he’s been dying to do for years. He kisses you.

It’s everything he thought it would be – magical, spectacular, burning, and amazing, especially when you kiss him back. One hand holds his shoulder, the other snakes its way to his hair, gripping and grounding.

Uncaring of the snot and tears, he presses his lips against yours with much urgency, hoping to pour years’ worth of pining and affection he’s had for you. Pulling away for the second time, to breathe, he finger combs strands of hair away before cupping you by the back of your head, dark onyx eyes softening at the sight of you, enjoying the flush in your cheeks and the love in your eyes.

“I love you,”

Both of you said it at the same time, much to both your shock.

Eventually, both of you laughed, foreheads pressing.

It was a long time running and both of you were such fools.

When dawn broke out the next day, two figures were seen leaving the labyrinth hand-in-hand, as though they didn’t want to let go. The camp stirred awake, then the Miya brothers stumbled at the figures before they rushed – practically raced, over to meet their rescued sister. Soon, a brown-haired man rushed up to greet his cousin, a few more calls and more men rushed up to meet the two.

Behind them, the labyrinth magically disappeared without a trace.

However, it wasn’t important.

For what’s important was that the third prince of Itachiyama, the commander of the Royal Guard, finally got his heart back.

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