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mercy-burning · 3 years ago

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Fake Fiancée - Part 3

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Summary: Reader and Spencer write letters back and forth, both of them slowly starting to fall in deeper. Category: Smut (18+) Content Warnings: Strong language, sexual themes, masturbation (male and female), sexting, face sitting Word Count: 6.3k

PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3 | PART 4

MASTERLIST

NOTE: Hello!! Sorry this has been so long in the making, but for a while my inspiration for this story absolutely disappeared, and then I tried to think of how to bridge the previous chapters to the final one with absolutely no luck. And then I re-read Part 2 and got stuck on the letter, thus this chapter was born! I didn’t want to drag this miniseries out any longer than 4 parts, and the letter format combined with other inner monologuing and description really allowed me to do that in an interesting way that hopefully doesn’t feel rushed!

It was so much fun and very refreshing to write. I hope you like how it turned out!

Thank you all for being so patient while I get my shit together 😅 Love you guys! Enjoy 🥰

***

We've been sending letters back and forth for about a month now.

If I'm being honest, it took me about two weeks to decide whether or not I actually wanted to send one back, but could you blame me?

Here was this guy I couldn't stop thinking about after a one-night stand, only for him to catch me—months later at the same exact bar we'd met in—flirting with his friend. And then after our sexual encounter that night, all the things we said, the connection I thought we had, all of it...

He left it all behind the next morning, only to send me a letter in the mail.

I was pissed.

Sure, it was a nice letter, but the fact that he'd reduced what we had down to a piece of paper and scribbled ink had made me angrier than I cared to admit.

In retrospect, I may have overreacted.

Over time I started re-reading his words, and the more I thought about it all, the more I started to regret my anger. And more than anything, I just wanted to see him again. I couldn't stay mad at him, not when all I could picture was his pouty face and nervous hands. His sunbeam of a smile peeked through the clouds of my anger here and there, and the longer it settled, the more it bathed me in a warm light that should have made me happy. But all it did was make me long for him.

Once I'd actually started writing that first letter back, I wondered why I hadn't jumped on the opportunity in the first place. I mean, after all the cliché shit we'd experienced in our short relationship thus far, adding love letters to the mix was just as perfect as you could get, right?

Spencer,

I'm sorry it's taken me this long to finally write you back. Truthfully I wasn't sure I wanted to write you at all, but your letter kept drawing me back in. I couldn't stop re-reading it, imagining you sitting down somewhere and contemplating every word as you wrote them down. I wondered if you'd thrown out hundreds of pieces of paper after messing up when you could have just as well typed out a letter without wasting them.

And then by that point, all I could think about was just you.

I always pictured what your living room looks like, or your kitchen table, or your office, or wherever you sit down to write. I wondered if you looked like one of those hopeless writers in the movies that have a scruffy face, coffee stains on their white tee shirts, and messy hair that hasn't been washed in days due to lack of inspiration.

But in the end, the image that won out over all the others was just you as I remember.

I'm not going to lie, that image most of the time was your body above mine while I held my hand to your throat, but for the sake of romance I guess I should probably tell you what it was every other time— the outfit you were wearing the first time we met.

When I think of you, I think of your hand nervously clutching that beer bottle for dear life and the other one occasionally pushing your glasses up your nose. I think of your eyes every time they'd look away from me, probably to keep yourself from staring too long.

But the thing that always gets me the most is your smile— even when it comes in little flashes, after you've said something you probably thought was lame. You covered it up with that perfect smile.

I've dreamt of that smile nearly every night since I met you, and I wouldn't be opposed to seeing it in person again.

I'd love to meet you for dinner some time.

But since you did manage to "more or less abandon me twice now", I think it's only fair that you make it up to me first.

Make the next letter a good one, and we'll see what happens.

Yours, Y/N

P.S. I hope my handwriting is as pretty as you hoped. I'd hate to disappoint.

***

Y/N,

I'm incredibly grateful that you've given me a chance to redeem myself. Every night since I last saw you has also been spent wondering what your house looks like on the inside... What you looked like reading my letter (perhaps at your kitchen table?)

And this might sound silly, but I've also wondered what your bedroom looks like. You may be laughing at me, because I've been in your bedroom, but in my defense I was a bit preoccupied to really take notice of my surroundings— I was simply surrounded by you.

But since I've been to your home, I figured it was only fair that I invite you to mine, possibly for dinner. I don't know how to cook much— in fact I'm pretty awful at making anything that's not a can of Spaghetti-Os... But one of my co-workers is an excellent chef, and with a recipe from him and some practice under my belt, I'm sure I can pull it off.

But by "some" practice, I mean probably weeks or months of practice. So hopefully that gives you ample time to mull it over.

Perhaps in the meantime we can get to know each other through our letters. And who's to say, it might spare us the awkward "getting to know each other" stage of a first date. Though, pretty much every stage of every date is awkward for me, so it might not help at all.

Regardless, I'm very much looking forward to hearing from you again.

I do get called away for work quite often, however. So I apologize in advance if I can't get back to you as soon as I'd like.

But in any instance, you're still welcome to text message or call me. I know it isn't as romantic or personal as handwritten letters, but it's certainly practical.

Yours, Spencer.

P.S. Your handwriting is just as beautiful as I'd imagined it would be. And you could never disappoint me.

That being said, if you somehow decide that this letter wasn't up to your standards and reject my offer, I may just find myself in the deepest despair imaginable.

***

I was definitely way too in my head about this.

It was just a text. Sure, it was a risky text to send, but I had no doubt in my mind that it would be fine in the end.

So why was my stomach churning just thinking about sending it?

Some might have chalked it up to my fat ol' crush on Spencer, but I knew it ran deeper. It had to do at least a little with my history with Patrick... The man stood me up and sent divorce papers to my place of work rather than to my face... And as much as I liked to think I was completely over it, we'd been together for years, and it really did a number on me.

I didn't want to ruin this new thing with Spencer so badly that I was overthinking everything.

So even though I could see his face opening the text, my heart doing jumps at the mere thought of it, a bigger part of me worried that it would be a step too far in the wrong direction. I didn't want him to think I was only in this for... sexual reasons. Which, don't get me wrong, have been pretty damn great so far, but I really did want to get to know him and see where this went.

In the end I decided to hold off. I settled for something a little lighter.

Spencer,

Don't feel too bad about your cooking skills. I've been through my fair share of burnt frozen pizzas to know how you're feeling. So the fact that you've given yourself the opportunity to practice and learn a recipe just for me is extremely romantic, and I appreciate the thought.

I won't stop you from following through, though I'm telling you now that no amount of slaving away in the kitchen will make me change my mind about you. We could probably eat stale crackers on the floor and I'd still find you utterly fascinating.

Maybe that's a bit too extreme, but I hope you get my point.

Anyway, I'd love to come over for dinner some time. Whenever you think you're ready to show me those improved cooking skills, you just let me know and I'll happily make my way over.

In the meantime, I'm thinking of sending more with my letters. I don't want to give away too much, but I will say that I'm very crafty. And don't feel like you need to send anything in return, though I'll let you know if I ever change my mind.

Yours,

Y/N

***

In the bottom right corner of the letter, right next to her signature, was a red lipstick stain in the shape of... well, her lips. It was common sense to know that they were hers and no one else's, not just a stamp or a drawing, and rather her actual lip stain... But even without it, I would have been able to tell by their shape.

Was that pathetic?

I could hear her, picture her in front of me, hovering above me with red-painted lips in the shape of a smirk, visibly cooing as she called me names... I could feel the ghost of her fingertips trailing up my throat and tilting my chin up to look at her as she rocked her hips teasingly into mine...

The whine I let out truly was pathetic.

You pathetic, needy little thing, I could hear her say...

My hands clutched the paper so tightly I thought I'd tear it, but it didn't matter when all I could see while staring at it was her luscious, red lips... Her voice was right there in my ear, like she was really beside me, watching me...

Oh, God, what would she do if she saw me right now? Staring at her lipstick stained paper and subconsciously grinding down into my chair...

You pathetic, needy little thing...

My hips jolted with a small, broken shout of her name, and in no time the front of my pants were flooded with warmth. I felt her eyes burning into me from the void, sparking to life with amusement as her voice crept into the deep corners of my brain and whispered praises to me.

Ohh, what a good little whore... Getting off to the thought of me... That's it, sweet boy... Come for me...

By now my eyes had squeezed shut and the letter was crumpled in my hand, the other reaching down to add much-appreciated burning friction to my crotch as I rode out my orgasm. My whole body tensed and shuddered at every sensation, from Y/N's image behind my eyes to the sweet warmth that pooled in my underwear and soaked through onto my hand.

Holy mother of—

The next time I saw her, I was screwed. I wouldn't be able to keep a straight face. I'd surely go red the second I laid eyes on her, and she'd know right away what I was thinking and feeling.

Simply put, it scared and excited me at the same time.

She'd utterly and thoroughly wrecked me, and if she didn't already know it, she certainly would soon.

Y/N,

I'm not sure what you intend to send in addition to your letters, but if it's anything near the sentiment of your lip stain, then you might have to refrain in favor of my poor, fragile heart.

See, it aches for you. It's bad enough I think of you always, but the moment I saw the shape of your lips on that letter, my heart almost shot straight out of my chest. Maybe it was the familiar shape of your lips or the implications of its place next to your name, signed after the word 'yours', that sent me into a tailspin, but whatever the case...

I'm pretty sure I've completely fallen under your spell.

I suppose I should also tell you that my heart wasn't the only part of my body that came to life at your added signature. I assure you, it took no time at all for me to come undone at the thought of your lips pressing gently against the paper, imagining that they were instead pressing to my skin... I didn't even have to touch myself, really. It just happened. Because of you and you alone.

I hope that wasn't too forward, but I felt it necessary that you know just how much of an effect you have on me.

If I could see you again in a millisecond, it wouldn't be soon enough.

That being said, I am determined to spend as much time as possible to perfect this dish for our dinner. Because you deserve nothing but the best, even if you insist that you could settle for less.

It's the least I can do.

Yours, Spencer.

And a week and a half later, when I didn't get a letter back on time, I was sure I'd messed up for good.

My mind was racing a mile a minute, yelling at myself for even thinking for a second of being that detailed in a letter without any consent. Sure, she'd taken it a step up by signing off her letter with a kiss, but I'd been absolutely idiotic in telling her that I got off to it.

I was honestly well and truly prepared to show up at her house with a big bouquet of flowers and an apology so wordy and probably too long for anyone's liking, in hopes that she'd forgive me for making this huge mistake.

Thankfully, though, it wasn't needed.

My phone chimed as I was pacing, my lip near bloody with how hard I'd been chewing at it, and I saw an unknown number attached to a text message and photo attachment.

The photo wouldn't load (I would have to plug it into my laptop and transfer the image there to see it— a fact which always irked Penelope to the core), but with the sentences I saw above the file, I almost knew exactly what I'd find when I had the means to see it.

There. Now we're even... Who says text messages can't be romantic and personal? XXX, Y/N

I felt like Bambi as I scrambled to my laptop three rooms over, stumbling over weak legs with my phone clutched tightly in my hand. My heart raced faster than it ever had as I started everything up and retrieved the right cord for my phone. With a few shakes and stumbles here and there, I briefly entertained the idea of upgrading my phone.

I probably would have left the apartment to do it immediately after seeing her photo attachment, but the moment it loaded up on my screen, my brain and body lost all ability to function properly.

A familiar burn coursed through the lower half of my body and tightened my chest at the sight of her, open and exposed and... wet.

My laptop screen was completely taken over by the image of Y/N's pussy, visibly glistening and aroused. A manicured hand—her hand— was in frame as well, middle finger resting snugly between the supple skin of her wet lips.

The fact that I only tasted her once felt downright cruel.

I tried to imagine it again— my face buried between the softness of her thighs. As much as I wanted to lay her down and indulge myself as long as possible, taking all the time in the world to slowly devour her and truly explore her for myself, what ran through my mind then was something more in the vein of our dynamic thus far.

My mind wandered, specifically to a place where I was the one laying down as she sat down directly onto my face and gave me what she thought I deserved. My hands were tied to the bed, maybe handcuffed. All I knew was that I couldn't touch her, and it bothered me. So I whined, and every time the sound left my mouth, she would let up, lifting further out of reach and causing me to instinctively reach my head up to chase her.

You greedy little slut... Take what I give you...

Desperately seeking her approval, I told her I'd be good and rejoiced when she lowered herself down to me again, allowing me to me completely wrapped up in her once more. My tongue lapped and lapped, gathering as much of her as I could before she'd inevitably leave again.

But she never did.

Somehow I kept my quiet, even though it was extremely difficult, and ate her out like my life depended on it. She glided smoothly over my face, coating more than just my lips in her arousal, and it thrilled me to my very core.

Every time I breathed in I could smell her, every time she groaned out my name my stomach fluttered, and it wasn't long before she was clutching my hair, shaking above me while I drank her in and repressed my whines.

My hips were uncontrollable though, bucking up into nothing and begging for any type of stimulation.

But then suddenly it was there— Her hand, firmly wrapping around my dick and gliding over it beautifully with a slickness that she must have transferred from her pussy. I could still taste her as I cried out her name, her movements quickening with every second until—

I didn't even realize I was actually alone until my eyes opened, cum coating my hand, my heartbeat heavy and loud, and the laptop screen in front of me a shade darker signaling a long period of inactivity.

I'd done it again...

And now we most certainly were not even.

I glanced over at my phone—plugged into the laptop—and then down at my lap, and my stomach knotted as my next move rang clear as day.

***

I woke up the next morning to texts from Spencer, and my heart picked up speed, a gentle warmth blooming through my chest at the sight.

I thought maybe he'd thank me for the photo I'd sent. Maybe he'd return it with an influx of messages along the lines of Oh my god, Holy fuck I miss you, and the like.

But what I wasn't expecting was to see a photo in return, of his hand that I'd dreamt of nearly nightly, wrapped firmly around his cock and all of it completely covered in cum.

Below the photo were three messages in a row, and each one gave me more butterflies than the last.

Sorry for low quality. No smartphone.

Also sorry we're not even anymore.

But I'm not sorry I did it- you're too perfect to resist.

***

Dearest Y/N,

I'm sorry you haven't gotten a letter from me in a while. And I know we've kept in touch through texting and calling while I was swamped at work, though now that I have some time off, I'd love to write you again. As much as I enjoy our virtual conversations, I still find sending letters to be my preferred method of communication (only second to speaking with you in person, that is).

Which brings me to the main point I'm trying to make.

I want to see you again. In person. I'm not completely confident in my cooking ability yet, but if you wouldn't mind the potential of it tasting awful, I'd love to have you over. I promise you nothing but the best, and I know that's a high promise, especially considering I probably haven't sold you on the meal, but it's true.

I'd do anything to please you.

And I really do mean 'anything', I hope you understand that.

Yours, Spencer.

***

The thought of seeing him in person again after so long made my hands way shakier than I would have liked. It made no sense the longer I thought about it, because it was obvious that we liked each other, and seeing each other in person wouldn't be a problem. Because it'd never been a problem before.

It irked me.

Still, I knocked on his door and physically shook out my hands, praying I could keep my cool when he finally opened the door.

But I should have known better.

One second I was staring at a large plank of wood, and the next I was staring into frantic eyes, golden and sparkling just as I remembered, but with an added glimmer of fear that matched the shakiness of my hands.

I don't know how long we stood there, just staring at each other, but the longer we did, the more we relaxed. His fear was gone, and the shaking in my hands turned into a dull hum that longed to reach out for him.

Still, I refrained, settling on a simple, "Hey, pen pal..."

By the way he looked at me, silent as ever, I started to wonder if that was a stupid thing to lead with. So I opened my mouth to apologize, to say anything else, but he beat me to it.

"Y/N... I... H—Hi, you look... incredible."

"O—Oh, thanks... Thank you, yeah, I um... figured I should... dress up a little. I know we're not going out anywhere, but I thought it might be nice."

He doesn't need to know that, Y/N, stop talking!

I gave him a small smile and a nervous laugh in an attempt to stop myself, hating how I was so nervous around him.

Spencer didn't seem to mind, though. He let me in and closed the door behind me as I quickly glanced around his apartment. It was littered with greens and browns, books everywhere, and I'd never felt more at home.

"Is it, uh... What you expected?"

"Hmm?" I turned to meet him, his soft voice pulling me from my wandering eyes.

"My apartment."

"Oh! Yeah, it's very you... I love it."

The compliment had his cheeks turning pink, and there was nothing I wanted to do more than kiss them over and over again.

And just like that, once again we were caught just staring at each other. I didn't know what he was thinking, and honestly, I didn't know what I was thinking either. All I knew in that moment was that Spencer Reid was standing right in front of me, close enough to touch, and I wanted to give in.

I was so wrapped up in the idea of feeling him that I almost didn't hear him speak. I wouldn't have heard him at all had it not been for his lips moving.

"I'm sorry, I haven't started dinner yet..."

"That's okay," I reassured. Or, at least I tried to. Really, though, I think it sounded more like I was uninterested in what he was saying, my voice flat and lifeless as I continued to stare at him.

Suddenly we were closer, and I had to look up higher to see his face, butterflies swarming in my stomach at the way he looked down at me.

"You're sure?"

"Mhm."

"I can start it now if you're getting hungry."

Food isn't what I'm hungry for, is what I thought. I almost said it, too, because he was even closer now, his hands coming out to touch mine. If they were humming before, they were certainly blaring with life now, growing hot under his light touch. And it took everything I had not to look down, because it had been too damn long since I'd seen his hands in person, and I wanted them on me immediately.

He could tell, too. He could sense my urgency, feel the longing radiating off my presence, and I knew this because I could feel his, too. His eyes practically dared me to say what I was thinking, and so I did.

"Don't you dare."

It was hard to tell who moved in first, but it really didn't matter.

I was here, in his apartment, feeling his lips glide over mine with reckless abandon, and that's all that mattered.

His hands gripped my waist so tightly I would have thought he was trying to hold me in place, to make sure I wasn't ever going to leave his sight again. And if that was the case, I would have let him hold me there forever.

My hands, meanwhile, clutched at his hair, forcing myself closer and closer to him with every sharp tug. I reveled in the way he whined into my mouth with every little thing I did, whether it was a tug of the hair or a roll forward of the hips, or even a swipe of my tongue over his.

He was putty in my hands yet again, and just like every time before, it turned me into a fucking goner.

Being with Spencer wasn't like anything I'd ever known. And the only other thing I'd known was Patrick. He didn't want me, not really, and even though he was good to me in the beginning, it was never like this.

I didn't come over to his apartment with shaking hands. I didn't send him fucking love letters almost weekly, and I certainly didn't get kissed like this...

Spencer was drunk on me, and I wasn't any sober myself.

"That picture you sent me..." I mumbled over his lips, still keeping myself as close as I could while I got out what I needed to say. "Where did you take that?"

We kissed for a few more seconds, unable to stay apart, before he answered, his voice just as breathy and brimming with desperation as mine. "My office. Just down the hall."

I kissed him again, hard, and then pulled back to look him in the eyes. They widened when I said, "Show me."

He dragged me through the apartment on rushed legs, and I almost laughed at the urgency, only stopped by the realization that I was just as urgent. It occurred to me that perhaps my laughing at his urgency might just be a slight turn on for him, given our history with my playful degradation, but still I pulled back— Tonight felt... different.

It didn't feel like we were headed in the direction of me calling him my dirty little whore throughout the night, and it was something I was more than okay with. In fact, I welcomed it, excited to see where this new night would take us.

We ended up in his office, which remained more or less the same aesthetic as the rest of his place. In the middle sat a small desk with a laptop and some papers scattered about on it, accompanied by a tall floor lamp and a rolling desk chair.

"Where were you exactly?" I mused, gripping his hand tightly and buzzing at the way his fingers flexed against my own.

"In the chair... I pulled the photo up on my laptop."

"Right. No smartphone."

Spencer hummed in confirmation before dragging me along to the chair, and I fucking giggled as he plopped down and practically pulled me right on top of him, the chair rolling back a foot or two. I went down for a bright, messy kiss that ended with his hands clutching my ass over my skirt and my own cradling his face.

His growing bulge nudged right up into my inner thigh, and I groaned lightly in his mouth, my fingers dragging softly down his jaw and neck until I reached his shoulders.

"What were you thinking about?"

He raised his eyebrow, and I rocked my hips forward with a sly grin, hoping to get my point across. "When you were looking at my picture, in this very chair, what were you thinking about?"

Seeing his eyelids stutter and his tongue dart out at my movements sent a rush through me, and I moved my hips once more to emphasize my urgency.

"I... I thought about you... riding my face. You tied my hands..."

"Oh?" I sighed, rocking forward again and humming into his neck. "Well, that can definitely be arranged if you want it bad enough..."

"Please, Y/N, yes... Please..."

The need dripping from every syllable made it near impossible to breathe, and I was suddenly very inclined to give him everything he wanted. With or without the begging.

So I reluctantly peeled away from him and stood up on weak legs. Staring at Spencer as he sat there, leaning back in the chair with disheveled hair and obvious desire in his eyes, made it all the better when I took my panties off from under my skirt and motioned for him to come forward. "On your knees?"

I would have demanded it in any other situation, but I was feeling a bit more sweet this time around.

And he seemed grateful for it, sliding the chair back further and getting down in front of me. I reached out and played with his hair, trying my hardest to commit his beautiful face to memory. I wanted it burned there for the rest of time.

"Hands?"

Spencer offered his hands to me, and I hummed happily, doing my best to tie his hands together with a makeshift knot from my panties. It wasn't really tight or secure, but it was enough for him to whine as he set them in his lap.

He watched intently as I dropped my skirt—a bit redundant now, but I thought it'd be a nice way to get him more excited. Plus I wanted to see his face (or at lease what I could see of it while it was buried between my legs).

I stepped forward then, looking down at him with a smile while my hands reached out to comb through his hair. "You ready?"

"Uh huh."

The look in his eyes right before I came forward and hovered over his face almost made my come on the spot.

But as fun as that would have been, I was glad for the way my body held off and settled for a beautiful, burning increase of pleasure that dragged out the longer he swiped his tongue through my folds. Actually, I forgot for a moment that I was supposed to be moving, riding his face like he'd thought about.

I willed my eyes open and clutched Spencer's soft locks of hair beneath me, gently rolling my hips and grinding down further on his face. The groan he let out not only felt good against my skin, but it sounded like pure bliss, eliciting a small whimper of my own as I tightened my grip in his hair and rocked faster.

"God, I missed having your mouth on me, baby... You're... so good..."

The longer I spoke the more breathless I became, not because the words didn't come easily, but because I truly believed them to be true.

Spencer really was so fucking good, his tongue the most delicate, divine object of the universe as it drew out every ounce of delight from my body. I may have been the one above him, calling the shots and directing him where and how to please me, but he was the one who clung to my soul like static and politely guided me towards damnation.

I wasn't even sure of my surroundings to tell you the truth. As my body tensed and took me through one of the most blinding pleasures I'd experienced in weeks, My eyes were squeezed so tightly it's like I saw the universe. All I knew was Spencer's lips sucking my clit and my hands deeply rooted in his hair as I shouted incoherently, stars swirling around behind my eyelids.

Truly, for all I knew, we could have been in space. It wouldn't have made any difference.

But eventually it came to be too much. I was reaching a limit I didn't want to get to so quickly, and so I flashed my eyes open and tried to adjust to this brand new atmosphere, unweaving my fingers through pretty brown waves of hair and stepping back to assess the situation.

What I found was the most beautiful man I'd ever known, panting like he'd just ran a marathon and yet harboring the most intense joy and desire a person could hold. He was on his knees, bound hands writhing in his lap as he awaited further instruction and licked up as much of myself on his face as he could before I stopped him.

Under normal circumstances, I would have wanted to absolutely ruin him. That adoring, desperate look in his eye would have spurred me to more devious endeavors, but all I wanted in this moment was to make sure he was satisfied. I wanted to take care of him, to let him know that I longed to make him feel as worshipped and adored as he'd made me feel.

I got down to Spencer's level, quickly removing the fabric from his wrists and hauling him to his feet, where he now towered over me, still waiting for words to address and instruct him.

Instead, I leaned up with soft hands upon his cheeks and pulled him down to meet my lips in a kiss that changed the tone entirely. It was erotic still, of course, what with my arousal infiltrating my taste buds and eliciting a soft sigh from the both of us, but our urgency manifested in sweeter ways... Softer lips, gentle touches of the face, and an exchanging of breath that was so smooth and seamless it felt like we were floating on air.

I was finding it hard to breathe again, but it wasn't an issue in the slightest. In fact, there was nowhere else I'd rather have been than right there, kissing Spencer Reid like we had all the time in the world.

When the breathlessness was a little too much to bear, we pulled away, though only leaving just enough space to breathe. Our lips stayed briefly connected while we caught up, and his hands found their way to the sides of my face. The way they practically engulfed my whole head brought a brief smile to my lips as I finally gave him the words he was looking for.

"I'm so glad I met you," I whispered.

"Funny, I was just thinking the same thing."

We kissed each other again, naturally and with so much ease that I wondered how I had ever lived without him.

And then, as my hands slid gently down his chest, I felt it.

Something that felt very much like a ring attached to a necklace sat right where his heartbeat resided, and I knew exactly which ring it was.

"W—" I pulled back and circled the shape of it with my finger through the shirt, then looked up at him. "Is that what I think it is?"

Spencer looked briefly panicked, pulling away a little and fishing down the front of his shirt for the chain. "Oh... Um, yeah. I, um... I forgot to take it off, I'm sorry. I..."

"You... kept it?"

I observed the diamond as it laid flat on my palm, still attached to the chain and around his neck. Honestly, after all this time I figured he'd never found it or gotten rid of it, seeing as he never brought it up. And yet there it was, glittering in the palm of my hand as my other one presses firmly against Spencer's rapidly beating heart.

"Y—Yeah... It um... It was really the only physical thing I had to remember you—Well, at least until we started sending letters... And I guess I just... W—Wearing it has become such a habit that I forgot to take it off."

"You never take it off?"

I could tell he was nervous, and rightfully so given I wasn't really letting on how I was feeling about the whole thing.

Still, he answered my short question in such a small whisper I'd have thought he was trying not to get in trouble.

"No."

"Why?"

My words certainly weren't helping ease his anxieties, so I remained close, dropping the ring and focusing rather on his eyes. I softened the look in my own and glided my hands down to hold his. His fingers flexed against mine, squeezing them for dear life as he sighed out in relief and flashed me a soft smile.

"Because... I wanted you close to my heart."

With a smile that mirrored his eyes, full of enchantment and pure adoration for the person in front of me, I didn't use my brain and instead focused on what my heart was telling me, consequences be damned.

"I think I might love you..."

Spencer squeezed my hands tighter, that relief spreading out to all his features and brightening that beautiful smile.

"Funny... I was just thinking the same thing."

Our lips met once more, and I swear it was like nothing bad was ever going to happen for the rest of time.

I'd never felt that way. Not once with Patrick did my heart feel settled into place, even during the great parts of our relationship.

And now here I was, with a man who sent me love letters and kept every physical reminder of my existence, who kissed me like I was the most precious thing in the world and slowly mended my wounded heart.

He held me close the whole way to his bedroom and never let me go until the morning. Though, even then his arms outstretched towards me and his fingers flexed, needing to grab onto any part of me that he could find.

And as I was sure I always would, I welcomed him with open arms.

***

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simpsiren · 4 years ago

Text

lee donghyuck x reader, ft. johnny and dreamies

description. I’m working at an arcade, but I’m also the top scorer of the DDR machine. It was easy to guard my position till a sudden regular comes by and tries to beat it. But we somehow ended up at the beach?

genre. angst (at first), fluff, arcade au, strangers to lovers au

word count. 8.2k

a/n. hEllOo i felt like writing this just because i crave going to the arcade but its way too expensive for my broke ass so i can only write what i wish :’) so eNjoY!!

“How do you still have the energy to play that?” I hear the familiar voice and footsteps walking towards the DDR machine where I was at. I glance to him for a moment, seeing him sipping on his Starbucks coffee.

“Working at an arcade is probably the easiest job ever.” I breathe out, my eyes and feet concentrated on the game. I feel Johnny’s hand leaning on the handle behind me while he watches me.

“Isn’t that obvious?” Johnny mutters sarcastically. I stomp on the last beat and wait impatiently for my score, the numbers increasing at an extremely fast rate.

“No fucking way!” Johnny exclaims, his hand beating the handle vigorously as the two of us see the final score. I chuckle and got off the plate, snatching Johnny’s coffee from him to take a sip.

“I’m amazing.” I say with utter confidence, shoving the coffee back on Johnny’s chest, causing him to fall back a little while I make my way to the staff’s room.

Johnny silently follows behind me, waiting in front of the counter while I grab my bag and check if I left anything behind before going up to him. “Thanks for always fetching me from work.” Johnny and I made our way out of the arcade. I didn’t bother to close up since it was my other colleague’s job anyways.

“Yeah so where’s my pay?” Johnny puts his hand out and motions it to me as if he’s asking for money. I roll my eyes and faked my exasperation. “You aren’t my Grab driver so shut it.” I nudged my elbow to Johnny’s as the two of us chuckle and left the mall.

While Johnny’s driving me home, the two of us didn’t speak, with only music coming from the radio can be heard. Johnny clears his throat suddenly. I assume he was trying to break the silence so I turn my head to him and wait for him to say something.

“One question.” Johnny stated. I hum as a sign for him to continue. “Has anyone ever tried breaking your score on the DDR before?”

I pucker my lips as I try to think of an answer, quietly laughing to myself after thinking about it. Johnny raise an eyebrow at me, confused at my sudden laughter. “Plenty of times actually. But no one has ever officially beaten it.” I answer with a scoff.

“It’s so funny watching people get curious about KSY. They would never guess that it could be a worker at the arcade.” I elaborate. Johnny laughs, now knowing why I was laughing to myself earlier.

“Let’s make a bet.” Johnny suddenly announces, his eyes off the road and to you, a mischievous grin appearing on his face. I copy his expression, tilting my head to the side. “Bet on what, John?”

“The first person that beats your score.” Johnny replies nonchalantly. “Within three months, if someone actually beats you, I win. If not, then I don’t.”

“What’s the prize for winning?”

“If I win, you get me an unlimited arcade card like yours.”

I gape my mouth at his statement, gasping and widening my eyes. A card is used as an access system in the arcade, meaning that you need to have money in your card and scan it on the machine as payment before you can play. Having an unlimited card meant that you didn’t have to pay for any of the games at all.

“You do know that’s for staff only right? It’s off limits. Choose another prize.”

Johnny simply shrugs, clearly saying that he doesn’t care how rare the card is, as long as he could get it. “If I lose, I’ll treat you to all the bubble tea you want for three months.” Johnny raises his hand that was laying on his thigh and slicing it through the air.

I bite the inside of my right cheek as I thought about the bet. I already knew I’d win. In my whole two years of working there and playing DDR, no one has beaten me. Not once. And I never needed to try hard to keep my title. But for the fun of if, I accepted. Who knows? Maybe someone will sweep me off my feet unexpectedly.

Two months have passed and the bet Johnny made with me still stands. I had my eyes on the DDR machine every time someone gets on. Half of them played for the fun of it while the other are trying their best to beat me. But I could tell from their moves that they didn’t have what it took to even reach my standard.

“Honestly let’s just call off the bet and have me win.” I tell Johnny who’s here during my break since he wanted to visit me. I rest my chin on the palm of my hand as my body leans forward on the counter and my eyes fixated on the DDR machine which currently has no one playing.

“Bitch I still have a month to prove that one person- One person, can beat you.” Johnny holds out his index finger, shoving it in my face with fury. I heaved a sigh. Johnny’s a determined man indeed.

Just as Johnny and I were talking about having dinner after I get off work, a guy walks in the arcade. I don’t know why but, he caught my eye. I glanced at him but did a double-take instantly.

He comes striding in with a lazy posture, hands in his black jeans while he wears a white shirt and black leather jacket. The most outstanding feature of his is the face. That was probably the reason why he caught my eye in the first place.

He goes to the top up machine, probably to put money in his card. And the first place he goes to is the DDR machine. Suddenly, Johnny starts slapping my arm vigorously. My unimpressed reaction didn’t seem stop him. “We should watch him! He’s going to play.” Johnny seems so excited that he’s jumping a little.

“Oh my God calm down.” I smack Johnny’s arm hard, making him wince in pain but recovered soon enough and quiet down.

The guy stands on the plate and scans his card, shoving it in his front pocket. He starts choosing a song. To my surprise, he chooses the song that I played yesterday with a level difficulty of hard. Clearly, he’s aim is to beat my score.

Someone from the entrance suddenly calls out a name. The guy turned his head to the voice, raising his hand up to greet the other while he walks towards the DDR machine. I couldn’t hear what they were saying due to the sounds from the other games that dominates the whole arcade.

He finally starts to play. The moment he presses on the first beat, my mouth gaps open. My jaw practically dropped to the floor due to the wave of shock I suddenly felt. Whoever he is, he’s definitely a professional at DDR. His feet moves at immense speed as he hits every single beat perfectly, his hands casually chilling on the handle.

He seems unfazed by the difficulty of the song, tilting his head while he watches the screen, as if boring his eyes into it. “I can’t believe this...” I mutter in awe, completely mesmerised by the way the guy moves.

A large crowd slowly starts to gather around him as everyone whispers to each other and being amazed. He hits the final beat. Claps and cheers can be heard from all over the arcade. All the attention went to him and the screen as everyone waits anxiously for the score.

“Seems like he can beat you.” Johnny whispers to me, his elbow nudging on mine. I let out a ‘tsk’ and throw him a glare. “Let’s see the score first.”

The numbers increase rapidly. It going as high as mine usually would. The number finally stops as it enlarges on the screen. Disappointing sighs and noises can be heard.

“Five points away?!” Johnny shouts unbelievably. I place a hand on my chest and give myself time to get my breathing back to normal. “That was so close. Too close.” I say.

The crowd starts to disperse as the arcade goes back to its normal state with only the one guy that called him out at the entrance. The guy gets off the plate as I would just assume the other to be his friend, patting his shoulder as a sign of a job well done.

The two proceeded to play other games and exit two hours later. I didn’t have my eye on them the whole time, obviously. But I wouldn’t be surprise if he comes by regularly from now on to try and beat my score. On top of that, I’d be intrigued if I get to see a new face around here more often. At least I’ll have someone with breathtaking looks to admire about if work gets boring.

Since it’s a Monday, the arcade is not crowded. Meaning that I’d have a lot more free time. I decide to do the homework that I have for the holidays. All I can think about is completing it all so that I can focus on work and get money.

Money. That is all I care about honestly.

However, my eyes lifted off my math paper to meet the eyes of him. The guy that almost beat my score. This is the second time I’m seeing him since he didn’t come by for a week after the huge uproar he brought to the arcade.

Our eyes only met for a split second before he walks by. My eyes are still on him, watching his back. His extremely good looking face still amazes me nonetheless. He didn’t play the DDR machine, and instead went to the motorcycle one. He stayed there for quite some time actually. He didn’t play other games.

I continue to do my homework. Just when I’m going to place my pen on the paper, I hear the sound of the DDR machine. I lifted my head up again, seeing him standing on the plate. He picked the same song, same difficulty. Is he going to try again?

The music starts and he starts moving his feet. I’m still amazed by him. It felt like I was watching him play for the first time. It’s shocking how I’ve never seen someone this good come by the arcade ever. It felt refreshing in a way. He felt like a competitor almost. He gets me anxious when I see him play.

The music finally ends. I wait for the score. The moment I did, my pen drops. My fingers releasing its grip on it as my eyes widen and blinked rapidly.

He jumps on the plate happily, seeing the score as his username goes up the rank and tops mine. He ran a hand through his hair flawlessly. How is he still looking so good after playing that intensely? I have mixed feelings about this.

I start to grow furious. The title I’ve been holding on to for so long suddenly got snatched away. Now that— just set off the competitive side of me. He’s definitely a challenge, an opponent. No doubt in that. I didn’t need to watch him play any more to know that.

He jumps off the plate, shaking one leg recklessly and did the same to the other. He turns his head back, seeing his username as the top ranked.

LDH. I’ll have to take note of that username

Before he left, his eyes scans across the arcade. His eyes meets mine and we made eye contact again. He lets out a small smile. A very small and effortless one. He looks extremely proud of himself, almost arrogant in fact. I’m pissed at him but I couldn’t get the fact that he’s good looking out of my mind.

Well, that settles it. I’m going to get my title back the moment I end my shift.

Later that night, the moment my shift ended, to be honest it didn’t exactly matter since my boss would only come by an hour later, I immediately went to the DDR machine, scanned my card and played.

I played vigorously. With immense concentration. My only thought was to keep LDH off my rank. My top rank. I played so seriously that I didn’t even notice Johnny coming in to pick me up.

“Are you mad or something? Letting off steam?” Johnny asks when I finish and wait for my score, almost sounding concern with how I played. “You won.” I let out.

Johnny doesn’t reply, probably taking his time to process what I meant. “I won the bet?!” Johnny finally shouts. My score appears on the screen. Luckily, my rank went back up to the top. Johnny looks at the screen and laughs hysterically, slapping his thighs and clapping.

“It’s that guy, isn’t it?! The handsome dude!” Johnny skips behind me while I went to the back to grab my stuff. I got back to him and run a hand through my hair, taking deep breaths. “I’ll get you your card, damn it.” I suspire in defeat.

“I remember him clearly because of how attractive he is. What a refreshing sight for the town.”

No shit, Sherlock.

Johnny leans down and places a quick friendly peck on my cheek, causing me to furrow my eyebrows and scrunch up my nose in disgust.

“So, how about bubble tea tonight?” I stop in my tracks, sharply turning a full forty five degrees to Johnny. He flinches back and shivers at my sudden move.

“Bubble tea? I thought I won’t be getting any.” I say with suspicion filling my tone, a raised brow as well as narrowed eyes. Johnny chuckles and shakes his head, bringing a hand out to pat my head.

“I said I’d treat you to all the bubble tea you want for three months. But I didn’t say I won’t treat you if you lost the bet.” Johnny replies casually.

I grin widely and link my arm around his. “Let’s skip our way to the car, shall we?” Johnny could only laugh.

We bought our bubble tea and decided to just sit on the roadside in front of the store. The two of us stare into the night sky, comfortable silence filled the air.

“Hey.” Johnny suddenly lets out. I bring my head down to look at him. “Aren’t you curious to find out who LDH is?”

I raise a brow in confusion. “I already know him? His looks make him unforgettable.” I say, swirling my drink around.

“No, idiot. I meant his name. LDH must be his nickname or initials.”

I look up and start to think about it. Johnny waits silently for my answer, hearing him sipping on his drink and chewing on the pearls. “Mm I can’t think of a korean name who’s initials are LDH.” I reply back

“I don’t know. I’ll have to get to know him soon if he’s going to come back.” I let out.

“Maybe he’ll see that I topped him.” I mutter with a light shrug.

And of course, he did. He comes back the next day and goes to the DDR machine. His eyes are stuck to the screen. I assume he’s surprised and confused as to how his rank dropped back down to second place in the span of one night.

He jerks his head to the side and take no hesitation to scan his card. Wanting to be the first again. You would think I am surprise to find out that he scored higher than me, but I wasn’t. I knew he was capable, and a strong competitor.

Once again I had to play after my shift to claim back my rank. And after that day, it got hectic. He would come by everyday and see that I’ve been ranked first. And he’ll have to play again. It went back and forth. Everyday it felt as though I was competing with him. And he never seems to give up either.

Over the days, people would come by and have looks of confusion, question marks floating around them as they wonder why KSY and LDH keep switching ranks every single day.

There was no end to this. It feels like I’ve been doing it for months (though it has only been three weeks). Don’t get me wrong, I wasn’t tired of playing DDR. I’m just annoyed at the guy who keeps wanting to steal my rank.

He’s without a doubt the first person that has ever shaken me off my calm pride.

Haechan and Jaemin decides to have a lunch date with Jaemin’s brother, Mark. The three eat happily, talking about how each of their lives are going.

“What have you been doing? It’s your school holidays, isn’t it?” Mark asks Haechan, scraping off every last bit of food on his plate.

“I’ve just been going to the arcade.” Haechan replies simply. Jaemin suddenly slams his hand in front of Mark, making him flinch in shock as it seems like Jeno wants to tell Mark something.

“I saw him play DDR. He was amazing! He even beat the top ranker who apparently hasn’t had anyone beaten them for two years!” Jaemin exclaims. Mark gapes his mouth open in shock as a wide smile appears on his lips.

Mark reaches his hand out to pat Haechan on the side of his arm. “Those dance lessons seem to pay off, huh?”

Haechan nods happily, but his expression soon changes to a weird one that Jaemin and Mark couldn’t make out. “But you know...” Haechan starts.

“Every single day I come by, I always find my rank going back to second. I kid you not the top scorer that I beat always comes back to play and rank first. It’s tiring how I have to constantly play to beat them.” Haechan complains, scratching his head and ruffling his hair.

“Look at you being all furious because of your competitive ass.” Jaemin teases. Haechan could only throw him a death glare.

“Maybe they come by everyday too? I mean of course they would want to keep their position as the best one at DDR.” Mark shrugs. He picks up his drink, wanting to take a sip but realises that he already finished it and went to place it back down on the table with a slight frown.

“How?! I come by everyday but I see no regulars there!” Haechan shouts softly, he would have been screaming if he’s not in a restaurant right now.

“I agree. I mean I don’t go there often but whenever I do I don’t see anyone that goes there everyday like Haechan.” Jaemin adds.

“It’s like it changes overnight!”

The table grows silent. Haechan’s eyes were specifically on Mark, wanting to see his reaction to this. Mark leans in, glancing down at the table before meeting Haechan’s eyes. “I’d say you just stay there the whole day and wait for this KSY to play.”

A line appears in between Haechan’s brows as his forehead creases, looking skeptical. “You want me to stay there from the time they open to when they close?! Mark that’s like ten hours.” Haechan shakes his head and waves a lazy hand to Mark.

“It’s not a bad idea. You don’t know when KSY comes so the only way you can know is if you stay the whole time.” Jaemin adds.

“You go there everyday. It shouldn’t be a problem.”

Haechan sighs and looks down on his empty plate. If he’s going to settle this once and for all with KSY, he’ll have to meet him at some point. He guess that this was the only way.

“It’s worth the shot.”

Unfortunately, I had to work the whole shift from morning till night today. But it didn’t really matter to me, since I know I’ll be seeing LDH again today.

To my surprise, he’s the first one here. And I just opened the arcade an hour ago. I couldn’t help but wonder who would come this early. Usually people would start coming in at least three hour after it opens.

His hair looked messy, yet it’s able to frame his face perfectly. His features still effortlessly beautiful despite wearing a baggy sweater and sweatpants.

He goes to play other games. He’s been playing for two hours now before leaving the arcade. I assume he left completely but he comes back with a McDonald takeaway, bringing it to the lounge area and eating breakfast there.

I found it extremely suspicious. I have never seen anyone acting like this in arcade before. Was it some kind of challenge? To stay in the arcade the whole time?

Hours went by, I did my work as usual. He’s still here. Sometimes he would be playing, and sometimes he would be in the lounge area. What surprised me the most is that he’s constantly looking at the DDR machine. His eyes immediately went there the moment someone stood on the plate. It looks like he’s keeping track of who’s going there. And I can only wonder why the whole day.

It’s now closing hours. My colleagues and I are cleaning our assigned areas and doing our jobs. I make my way to the lounge area.

I open the door and his eyes instantly went off his phone and to mine. “We’re closing now. You should get going.”

His lips form a thin line. Again he moves his head aside, looking at the DDR machine. I turn my head back, acting as if I didn’t know what he’s looking at. “You’ve been here the whole day. Care to tell me why?” I ask, going to the trashcan in the corner and taking out the plastic bag.

“Uh no reason. I’ll leave.” He simply say, rising from the couch and walking past me.

“Why didn’t they come today...?” I hear him mutter as he scratches his head. He leaves the lounge area. I look back, watching him walk out the arcade.

My lips purse into a thin line as I try to make out what he said to himself? Was he waiting for someone? He was looking at the DDR machine the whole day.

As I walk out to throw away the trash, I didn’t take me long to figure out why. “Was he looking for me?” I ask to myself. A wide smirk appears on my lips absentmindedly as I giggle softly, walking back to the arcade and seeing Johnny waiting for me by the counter.

“You’ll never guess what happened today.”

I see Johnny holding my bag in his hand. I assume he went to the back and took it for me. He hands it to me as we walk out of the arcade. “What happened?” Johnny asks curiously.

“Handsome dude was in the arcade the whole day.” I answer, brushing away strands of hair from my forehead. “The whole day?! Since you opened?”

I nod instantly. Johnny looks up to the sky with a weird face. “I mean I know he has the lounge area but being there for ten hours?”

I let out a chuckle. “He eats breakfast, lunch and dinner there too.”

“Why would he do that though? Does he not have a life?” That’s when my wide smirk appears again. Johnny gives a suspicious look to my reaction.

“He was looking for KSY.” Johnny’s mouth gapes open, laughing hysterically after a moment of just staring at me in disbelief. “Are you serious?! He waited all day and he doesn’t even know that it’s you!” The two of us laugh for a whole minute, finding it funny and unbelievable.

“I feel bad though. He didn’t even play DDR today.” I comment. “Won’t be surprised if he comes back today and stays there again.”

“You’re so mean if you just let him wait and not find out that it’s you.” Johnny shoves a hand in his pocket.

I bob my shoulders and shrug. “We’ll see how long he can hold up then.”

The next day, he comes back again. He did the same routine. Getting meals and staying in the lounge area. He did play some games, but his attention was solely on the DDR machine. I don’t know how he’s not sick of doing this since it’s been a week now. Though I find it funny at first, I started to feel bad for him.

“Are you perhaps waiting for someone?” I ask, wanting to tease him a little as I walk in the lounge room. His body slumps into the soft couch. He grabs a pillow from behind and hugs it tight.

“No shit I’ve been waiting for a week for this person to show up.” He mumbles in frustration. Letting out a soft chuckle, I fold my arms and shifted my weight onto one leg.

“Is he or she a regular like you?”

His eyes slowly lifts off from the pillow and to me, going from the bottom up before meeting my eyes and glaring. “I guess? I don’t know. They keep getting back their rank in DDR after I take it. It’s driving me insane.”

I laugh, quickly covering it by looking behind and changing my expression back to a composed one. “What’s your name?” He raises a brow at my sudden question. “Lee Donghyuck.”

“Or just Haechan.”

My mouth opens slightly as I let out a soft “Ah...” while nodding my head. Beautiful name for a beautiful face. At least now I know what his initials meant. “I feel bad so it looks like I have to tell you.”

“Tell me what...?” I start walking closer to the couch, bending down to meet his eye level. He looks at me suspiciously with his blank expression.

“KSY is me.” I let out, grinning widely.

Haechy tilts his head to the side, his eyes looking at me up and down as he blinks rapidly and scoffs in disbelief. “There’s no way.” He runs a hand down his face and glances to the side constantly. I puts a finger in front of me, moving it up and down. “You? A worker? KSY?!”

I nod, bringing all my hair down to one shoulder. I open the door, turning my head to Haechan and jerking my head to the side. “Aren’t you going out?” I couldn’t help but think about how funny his face looks right now.

The two of us stare at each other for at least fifteen seconds before Haechan shakes his head vigorously and stands up, dashing past me and out of the room. I turn back to look at it one last time before switching off the lights and leaving as well.

“So you’re KSY? The annoying one that keeps ranking first after I beat you?!” Haechan exclaims. I laugh, clapping my hands and nodding happily. Jaemin runs a hand through his hair. “I can’t believe this.”

“Of course you won’t. Who would’ve thought it’s a worker?” I lift my shoulders up and give a cheeky smile. Haechan folds his arms as he stands in front of me. “I don’t know if I’m currently mad or surprised.”

“I can confirm it’s both.” I say with confidence. Since Johnny’s busy tonight, I unfortunately have to go home alone.

“Let’s battle.” Haechan suddenly announces with a smug and arrogant look on his face. I scoff. “You should really just be happy you’re second. You know I’ll just take back the first ranking instantly after you beat it.” I satire.

Haechan frowns and lifts a finger in front of me, waving it in my face while he shakes his head. “The one who wins the battle gets to claim the top for life. We’ll settle it once and for all.”

I nod my head slowly while I grab my things and head out. For some reason he’s following me. “Hello? I need an answer.” Haechan lets out, running up and walking beside me. I turn my head and give him an unimpressed smile. “Fine then. Though I can only play once my shift ends so.”

Haechan claps his hands once and shouts, making me flinch back slightly at his loud voice. “So that’s why it keeps changing overnight!”

I brought a palm to my forehead. “Duh.” I deadpan.

“I’ll see you tomorrow night then.” Haechan walks in front of me, walking backwards while he gives a cheeky winks and runs off.

I scoff and raise an eyebrow as I watch him running out of the mall. I shove my hands in my pockets and tilt my head. He’s interesting.

“Oi! You guys won’t belive what I just found out!” Haechan burts into the dorms, dashing to the living room where all the members gathered.

“What now, Haechan?” Chenle asks sarcastically, slamming a card down on the table. “It’s your turn Renjun.” The room grows silent as Renjun squints his eyes while trying to find a card. “Plus four for you, Jeno!”

Haechan steals a seat from Jeno, pushing him off to the side and slamming both hands palms down on the table. All heads instantly turning to Haechan. “Are you guys seriously playing Uno without me?!” He places a hand on his chest and gasps with a sarcastic shocking look.

“Jaemin told us that you’re going to be at the arcade the whole day so we were having fun by ourselves.” Jeno adds, pushing Haechan away slightly so that he’ll have some space at the table.

“Anyways! I finally found out who KSY is!”

Everyone lets out a sigh in unison. Haechan narrows his eyes at his members’ weird reaction. “It’s been a week. That took you long.” Jisung replies.

“Do you guys want to guess who?” A wide smile appears on Haechan’s lips as he waits for his friends. “A guy with strong arms like Jeno?” Jaemin asks back, resting his elbow on Jeno’s shoulder while he leans in close to Jeno’s face. Jeno turns his head to Jaemin and smiles softly before roughly throwing his elbow off.

Haechan shakes his head vigorously. “A nerd?” Renjun guesses, bobbing his shoulders. Heachan gives the same answer.

“Just tell us already, idiot!” Chenle reaches his hand out to smack Haechan in the head lightly. Haechan lets out a loud ‘tsk’. “It’s a girl. And she’s working at the arcade.”

The room grows silent once again. Some had their eyes widen with opened mouth while the rest had a blank expression that Haechan assumes to be their ‘disbelief faces’.

“You serious? A girl?” Jisung’s the first to speak, a hand moving up slowly to cover his mouth. Haechan nods. “Can you believe a girl can have that much strength to be ranked first?!” Haechan exclaims.

“Well that was unexpected.” Jeno adds. Renjun replies with a similar comment as well. “There’s more!”

No one replies, urging Haechan to continue. “I’m going to have a battle with her tomorrow night!” This time, everyone’s faces become mors shocked than before. “Oh my God we should all go!” Jaemin smiles widely while clapping his hands.

“I’m so down to see Haechan get wrecked by a girl.” Chenle says with a slight smirk. Haechan stands up and walks to him, sitting down next to him to give a smack on the head, making Chenle wince due to the force.

“You don’t know that. He’s been switching the first place ranking with her for so long. Anything can happen.” Jeno retorts lazily with a shrug. “Thank you for the nice word of encouragement, Jeno.”

“I said anything can happen. You still have the chance of losing.” Jeno adds on carelessly, causing the group to burst out laughing. Haechan rolls his eyes. “Whatever. Just follow me to the arcade tomorrow.”

Everyones nods their heads, looking over at Haechan. He smiles widely and claps his hand once. “Alright it’s settled. Now let’s play some Uno.” Haechan beats his hand on the table.

Renjun gathers up all the card and starts shuffling them.

Before my shift starts, I went to play a few rounds of DDR machine to warm my legs up for the game I’ll have with Haechan tonight. I’m not sure if I’m excited to be battling against such a handsome guy or be scared at the fact that he can actually beat me. I know I won’t be able to play anymore so this morning’s my only chance to prepare.

I texted Johnny during lunch, telling him about the unexpected battle i’ll be having. He replies me instantly with a, I’ll be there by seven! Can’t wait to watch you! I chuckle at his reply and continued to work till evening.

It’s seven now and as promised, Johnny shows up from work. “You ready?” Johnny asks.

I crack my neck swiftly and nod my head. “Ready to beat Lee Donghyuck.”

“So that’s his name?” Johnny asks again, looking slightly surprised. I frown and shrug my shoulders. “Apparently so.”

Johnny and I had our eyes on the DDR machine, no words being exchanged for about three minutes. “What time is he coming though?” Johnny turns question me.

“I’m not sure. He told me he’ll be here at night.” I reply simply, resting my chin on the palm of my hand. Johnny copies my posture as the two of us allow time to pass by with talking about anything.

Johnny eyes suddenly widen. So wide that it looks scary to me, as his finger point to the back of me. I turn around to the entrance. I see Haechan walking in, though I feel slightly intimidated with who he brought in. They looked like a gang or something.

Haechan raises a hand and waves at me. I bowed my head slightly in response. All of them head to where Johnny and I were at.

“So this is her?” One of them ask with a skeptical brow. Haechan nods bringing a hand up to motion go me. “Yeah! She’s... Uh sorry I didn’t get your name last time.” Haechan stutters.

“Oh it’s _____” I reply with a soft smile. All of them nod their heads. “When we starting? I wanna watch you and Haechan!” The small figured one asks with excitement filling his tone.

“Should go warm up first. She’ll smash you if you don’t.” Johnny brags out, placing his elbow on my shoulder and using my height as a leaning device for him. “He scares me. Look he’s so tall.” The same guy voices out, pointing to Johnny.

Johnny gasps, overreacting. “Told you that you look intimidating. You’re too tall.” I say, forcefully shoving his elbow off me. “Not my fault!” Johnny whines. Haechan nods his head and goes to the DDR machine, his friends following behind him.

Johnny and I were still behind the counter, so comfortable in our seats that we’ll practically whine if we’re dragged off. We both had our serious faces on in a way to intimidate them. But that’s a fail since everyone had their eyes on Haechan as he scans his card and picks a song.

“Saving your energy?!” I shout across to them, noticing that he picked a relatively simple song at medium difficulty. Haechan turns around and smirks widely. Not sure whether to find that hot or annoying. “Of course.” Haechan shouts back, a chuckle appearing slightly after.

I wasn’t actually paying attention to him play. My eyes are glued to my phone screen while I scroll through Twitter to catch up on the drama I’ve missed. Time felt like it flew by in a second when Haechan call up my name. I tilt my head up, seeing him motioning one hand up that signaled me to go there. I place my phone screen down on the counter and make my way to the DDR machine, with Johnny following behind me and joining Haechan’s group of friends that’s surrounding the plate.

“Song?” Haechan asks. I jerk my head to the side, leaning back and placing my hands on the handle behind me. “Your pick.” I reply casually. Haechan chuckles and starts browsing through, picking a song in no time, difficulty level on high and setting the game to battle mode.

The screen starts showing the countdown in both screens. Haechan and I lowered our bodies in a stance position as the numbers start going down from ten.

5... 4... 3... 2... 1...

“Go!” Everyone shouts in unison.

The amount of concentration I had in this game shocked me. The last time I put in this much effort into something was my finals this year. I didn’t bother looking at Haechan since I’m focusing on myself only, making sure my feet were in sync and I’m getting a ‘Super perfect’ every time.

Everyone’s silent, only the music filling the entire arcade. The song finally ends, Haechan and I desperately gasping for air while the rest gives up an applause. Our heads shot up to the screen, seeing the numbers on both screens increasing rapidly.

“Woah!” Johnny shouts. My eyes widen, making sure I’m seeing the score correctly. I immediately jump happily and off the plate, going to Johnny and slapping his chest with my arms. “I won!”

Haechan and his group of friends are currently silent, with Haechan’s heavy breathing to be the only noise surrounding them. Disappointing sighs and groans came soon after.

“Get off the district of this town!” I burst at them mockingly with a devil-like laughter. Haechan runs a hand through his locks, shaking his head vigorously and glancing upwards before turning to me.

“You win.” Haechan mumbles in defeat. I giggle and walk over to him, lightly punching the side of his arm. “You did well.” I reassure Haechan. He suspires once again. “I don’t owe you anything then?”

“Oh right we didn’t discuss the prize!”

I fold my arms and look up, proceeding to think. “Treat me a meal. And bubble tea. For three months.” I cock up both eyebrows with an evil smirk. Haechan scoffs, refusing to believe that’s my request. “I mean I did make a bet with Johnny and since I lost that I am now going to take advantage of this situation.” I lean back slightly with one shoulder down.

“Fine.”

I got his number and we made a decision of meeting at the bus stop today. I’m the first here, looking down at my phone while I scroll down my playlist to find a song to play. It wasn’t even twenty seconds in till a finger taps on my shoulder.

I frown slightly, not being able to listen to my favourite song but quickly smile as I see Haechan taking a seat beside me. “Where we headed?” I ask curiously. I did say to me out for a meal, but he didn’t specify where. “Are you okay with travelling on the bus for about an hour?” Haechan questions me back.

I shrug my shoulders, leaning back against the glass behind the seat. “I love long bus rides.” Haechan nods his head and grins. “Good. I have a perfect place.”

“Aren’t going to kidnap me are you?” Haechan chuckles at my skepticism. “Want me to do that?” I furrow my eyebrows, laughing softly after and shaking my head.

A few minutes of silence passes by. I hate the awkwardness that filled the gap between us. Luckily, Haechan stands up suddenly, signaling that the bus has arrived.

We got in and took a random spot. Haechan allows me to sit inside, motioning his hand out to the seat. So he’s good looking and a gentleman? Shit.

“You’re seriously really good at DDR.” Haechan suddenly speaks up. I pucker my lips. “Been playing ever since I worked at the arcade. Which was two years ago.”

Haechan clicks his tongue. “I’m guessing you like music a lot?” I nod in reply. “Very. It’s like my emotional support for when I sometimes feel like jamming my head into the wall.” Haechan laughs loudly at my comment, surprised at my unique, but also not, humor.

“I love music, too. I actually sing.” I widen my eyes at his sentence. Haechan chuckles for a quick moment. “You won’t hear it, unfortunately. I only sing for my friends.” I let out a pout, punching him in the chest gently. “Oh come on. I beat you at DDR that day. Why not let me listen to you as a bonus?” I wink at him playfully. Haechan huffs. “When we get there, then.” He shrugs. I giggle and look out the window. Once again silence overtook us.

Haechan and I wear our earpieces at the same time, proceeding to look down at our phone and playing a song. My eyes were looking out the window, admiring the plain view of the town. I wasn’t sure how much time has passed, but I know for a fact that I went through a lot of my songs in my playlist already.

Suddenly, a beach comes into view. I see the sand and the sky, to make things better it’s currently sunset hour. Beautiful colour and shades from red to yellow and even pink filling the sky, matching the vibe of the beach perfectly.

Haechan taps in my shoulder and jerks his head to the side, telling me this is our stop. The two of us got down and remove our earpieces, the bus driving past us and the view returning back. “We’re eating by the beach?!” I question Haechan.

He smiles softly. I look down at his outfit. His shorts and button up shirt suiting the location perfectly, along with his hair that framed his face and eventuates his features beautifully.

“Come on.” Haechan grabs my wrist and drags me off, having me to run while he picks up the speed. I laugh, somewhat happy that he brought me here.

Haechan slows down, his hand still on my wrist as we end up in front of an open restaurant. There isn’t any inside, only the kitchen and serving area being hidden by walls. The place is beautiful. It was fairy lights hanging over the wooden ceiling that was bare to allow us to see the night sky, colourful wooden planks as the floor and wooden chairs and tables. There’s also swings and hammocks too. It’s the whole vibe of the place that’s bringing me so much happiness.

I guess it’s too obvious when I feel Haechan swinging an arm around my shoulders. “Already liking it I see.” He leans down to whisper to me. His voice sounded normal but it sent shivers down my spine and his voice echoed in my head while he leads me to a seat.

I sit down while he takes the seat opposite mine. He leans forward against the table, his elbows resting on his casually. “Trust me, the food here is great.” Haechan speaks. “The best I’ve had so far.” He adds, bringing a hand up and slicing it in the air, sticking his tongue out slightly.

I simply smile and nod, looking around the place after as I still couldn’t believe that I’m here. It’s been so long since I’ve been in such an atmosphere so it really did an impact on me. “Are you like popular in the DDR realm?” I suddenly ask, my head shooting down to him. Heachan lifts the side of his lips ever so slightly. “I mean in a few towns where I took over all the arcade mall.”

“Talented indeed.”

We ordered our food and ate. Surprisingly, we were able to talk a lot. We didn’t have an exact topic. We just speak whatever came to our mind. Haechan really did keep up the conversation well and it wasn’t hard to talk to him at all. I liked it. Quite a lot actually.

I only thought of eating and going home. But now, I just can’t pass up the chance of just sitting by the beach. And that’s what we did. We borrowed a matt from the restaurant and sat on it while looking out into the scenery ahead of us.

It got windy as the night settles in, the cold breeze passing by and making contact with my skin that made me feel at ease almost instantly. “You do this often? Going to the beach?” I whisper, hugging my knees into my chest and laying my chin on one knee. I tilt my head to the side.

“I used to. Until I got busy with life and shit.” Haechan whispers back. I couldn’t help but keep my eyes on him. The way his hair flows and got messy due to the wind, his side profile looking as perfect as I first saw it. And the night sky that served as a background for him to shine.

“Why not we have a battle once a week? Or whenever you’re free. Whoever loses treats the other to a mea at the same restaurant.” I suggest. Though my hidden agenda to it was so that I could see Haechan more often.

“I think that’ll be too tiring. Let’s just come here whenever we’re free.” Haechan retorts back, placing his hands behind him and leaning backwards. “We can hang out more.” Did he really just read my mind or something?

I let out a calming sigh, taking a moment to breathe in the sea air and watching the small waves come to shore, with the water reflecting the light of the night.

“I’d love that.”

Ever since then, I went out with Haechan more often. Going to the same beach, same restaurant and spending time together by the beach, doing anything basically. Though as time passed and we were getting more busy with our separate lives, we never fail to exclude one day from our week just to be with each other.

Our relationship eventually escalated. We naturally started holding hands and giving each other light pecks on the lips, cheeks or forehead. His subtle actions always sending a shock through my body, but it soothed me at the same time as well. My feelings for him bloomed more over time. And Haechan reciprocated it in a heartbeat.

Today was no different. We’re at the beach yet again. But this time, our nosy friends decided to come along.

We are huddled together, everyone relaxing as we watch the scenery. Despite it being the afternoon, the sky, sea and sand is still as beautiful. We spent the day playing a lot of games. Card games, hand games, even burning bridges. We really did everything. And I loved every second of it, since I had Haechan sitting beside me.

“You guys want anything? We should get more drinks.” I say, pointing to the plastic bag that was filled with empty canned drinks and bottles. Everyone nods their head in unison. I smile happily and stand up, wiping the excess sand on my bottom while reaching out to grab the plastic bag.

“Haechan, follow me.” He looks up to me. We had the same thought. Wanting to be alone together. “What am I, a servant for these idiots?” He jokes, though I know he’ll follow me regardless. “Idiots?! Look at you dumbass!” Chenle retorts,

The groups laughs, shaking their heads. Haechan throws them a death glare and immediately sent the group into silence as they see his intimidating expression. He stands up and walks over to me. “Text what you guys want.” I wave my phone up in the air before leaving to the restaurant with Haechan.

“Why did they have to come today? I wanted to be alone with you.” Haechan whines after checking if we’re out of our friends�� sight.

Haechan pulls me close by the waist. I laugh and place my hands on the side of his arms. “We’ve been doing that for so long. They lighten the mood up.”

Haechan frowns but gives a soft peck on the crown of my head. My phone dings. I lifted it to check and see that Mark sent me a list of their wanted drinks. Haechan still had his arm around my waist as he keep me close from the time we ordered to the time we were walking back, putting his arm down till the last second when our friends come into our view.

When we got there and take our seats, the group was oddly silent. All eyes were on us, with suspicious expression on their faces.

“So when are you going to tell us you’re dating?” Jaemin cocks up a brow while everyone folds their arms in unison.

I turn to Haechan, who looks at me as well before looking back to the front. “Huh..?” I say, acting taken aback.

“Don’t lie! I saw you two kissing while I went to the toilet!” Renjun exposes. I scrunch up my face and pout.

Haechan rolls his eyes and leans back. “I thought it was pretty obviously since I ditched a lot of my plans with you guys.” Haechan replies smugly.

“He got stolen by _____ from us!” Jisung huffs out. Haechan and I burst out laughing hysterically.

“He’s better taken away, though.” Jeno adds. Haechan lets out a loud ‘tsk’.

I can only blush and laugh loudly as I watch Haechan beating up Jeno for his comment. Who would’ve thought it be here with a guy when we bonded over a DDR game?

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dracosaurusrex · 4 years ago

Text

Scavenger Hunt

Part 6 to Notebook! Notebook Masterlist

Summary: In which Draco is torn between his morals and desires, but chooses you.

Pairing: Draco x Gryffindor!reader

A/N: I don’t know how I feel about this chapter, pero lyke I think the two need a little push? More substance? Hnnnnghhhhhhh. It’s challenging to write Draco with realism aha, but I think it’s crucial for their growth as a couple (?) IDK...but as always, feedback is lovely and I appreciate it greatly. I hope you enjoy!

A certain blonde found his thoughts often flitting to the recent memories of the time he spent with you in Hogsmeade. He remembered how he well your hand fit into his while cherishing the taste of peppermint toads. Whenever he was alone, he’d remember all those small details: the feel of your touch, the shape of your smile, the ease of holding an actual conversation, and the overall warmth that you exuded on a day that was particularly cold. His heart skipped beats upon recalling these sensations. After all, it was relieving to put down the mask he has been keeping for so long. It was relieving to allow his walls disintegrate for even a moment.

Draco Lucius Malfoy was the only born son to Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy and the heir to an ancient and obnoxiously wealthy line of purebloods. He was raised upon expectations for perfection. Grades, appearance, skills, status, even the people he connected with—anything less than such was a call for a reprimanding followed by a constant reminder that he mustn't fall into the wrong sort. Such perceptions were embedded in his upbringing, and with efforts to bring his parents much pride and joy, it was his intent to strive for that very definition of perfection. Up until now, his life has been built around the goal of pleasing them.

“Tell me who your friends are, and I’ll know who you are, Draco. Remember that.” His father would tell him with a pompous and conceited tone.

The boy responds, “Yes, father.”

His childhood was a lonely one to say the least. Although he was surrounded by people his parents had approved of to be his friend, they felt more like acquaintances. Furthermore, they resembled hollow relationships founded upon networking and money rather than genuine care and trust. Perhaps that is the reason why your relationship with the golden bunch triggered him. The warmth that he felt with you can easily be seen in the way you interact with your imperfect friends, and he longed to preserve the feeling of it throughout his life.

You were of a different caliber. The more he thought about it, the more he realized that he was—simply put—an outsider looking into your life.

In all his honesty, Draco only knew several things about you based off observations and word of mouth. For starters you were in the rivaling house. You also weren’t as wealthy as he was. He knew that the people his parents strongly disapproved of were ones that seemed to bring you much happiness. Additionally, you never gave much priority for your status as a pureblood. Regardless of that, you somehow managed to live a vibrant and seemingly happy life. A life that highly contradicted his own. To that end, he knew deep down inside that you didn’t meet the standard of perfection set by his family. He could see his parents (mostly his father) scowl. But beyond all of the limitations the familial factors presented, your existence seemed to fill what resembled closely to a hole within his heart. He treaded over the line between securing the comfort of the reality he lived in and making the risk to realize the reality he wanted—you. His heart leaned towards the latter.

The weekend transitioned into Monday, and you still haven’t returned Draco’s notebook. While it frustrated him quite a bit, he felt butterflies over the idea of seeing you again. Class was going to start within 30 minutes, and the boy found himself seated on a tree within the courtyard, watching other students pass by. Sporadic sights of red, yellow, blue, and green crossed his line of vision until they landed on a rather large group of Gryffindors congregating near a corner. Seen among them was you.

A smile was plastered on your face as the attention of you and your friends was fixed upon George Weasely, who could be seen holding a camera. He set his device atop of a wall as he directed commands for you all to bunch closer together. After confirming the satisfaction with the placement, he clicked on the shutter and ran frantically to his place next to Fred.

“Say ‘Gryffindor’” You all responded enthusiastically. Arms were wrapped around each other's shoulders, cheeks pressed closely together, smiles all wide with glee. *snap* The scene elicited a tinge of jealousy within Draco’s heart. Before deciding to act upon his emotions, he remains planted on his tree, watching the scene continue to unfold.

“Y/N, Mione, Ginny, come over here! Let me take one of you girls.” The three of you arranged yourselves with you in between your two friends. Your arms interlaced with theirs and you gave a smile to the camera.

“Loosen up, Y/N! You look like you saw a basilisk!” Ron chimed. You threw a glare and adjusted yourself accordingly.

“That’s it! Smile now! 1, 2, 3!” The shutter went off, and you relaxed. Draco kept his gaze fixed on you separating from the two girls as you approached Ron to throw a seemingly painful jab to his shoulder. Draco chuckled from afar.

“Don’t be offended! It’s the truth!” Ron defensively rubbed his now sore arm.

“Oh, shove off Ronald!” You shared a laugh with the boy.

As your friends start to leave the site, your eyes met with the blonde, triggering a grin to spread on your face. You looked back as the group dissipated, heading to their respective classes.

“Mione, Ginny, go on without me! I forgot something, and I have to go and get it.” You called out to them. They nodded in understanding and followed the boys.

Once they were completely gone from your sight, you turned your focus back onto Draco and made your way to the tree he was in. In response, he jumped down and met you halfway with a discrete smirk.

“Didn’t know it was picture day.” He said coyly. You only rolled your eyes playfully and nodded.

“Yes, yes,” you chuckled, “It’s been a little tradition we have had since we were first years.”

There was a fond look you had on your face as you took a brief second to reminisce. Taking notice of this, the jealousy that was kindled in Draco’s chest only grew.

Without even thinking, he said, “I don’t understand why you associate yourself with the likes of them.” The rude tone in his voice offended you.

“Excuse me? What’s that supposed to mean?” Shocked at the question, you brought your hands to your hips as an incredulous expression fixed itself on your face.

“Granger’s a mudblood. The Weasley’s are quite crummy and embarrassingly poor. Potter’s got only a scar to prove his worth in the wizarding world. I simply don’t understand why you associate yourself with people as such.” There wasn’t a single stutter in his statement. Suddenly, the adoration that you once felt was replaced with fumes of anger.

“Who are you? Moreover, what makes you think it’s right to say that!?” You looked at him disgustedly.

“I beg your pardon?” The sight of your expression pooled the feeling of regret in the depths of Draco’s stomach.

“What’s got you acting like a total git?? Seriously incredible, Malfoy! Perhaps if you gave them a chance, then you’d see why I associate myself with the ‘likes’ of them!” You said mockingly. You fished his notebook out of your bag and shoved it aggressively against his chest.

“Not everything is about status, you know?” There was venom laced in your tone, which was accompanied by a look of disappointment within the angry expression on your face.

“But, then again, status must be all that you know.” You stated coldly before turning on your heel to march briskly away from the boy. Draco only stood there dumbfounded as he saw your figure retreat from view. Not knowing how to react, he smacked his face and begrudgingly went to class. This was not how he envisioned his Monday to play out.

His mind was absent from lectures throughout the day as he contemplated your words. Although his constant berating of students from other houses didn’t normally faze him, your words caused an internal uproar and prompted him to question his actions. It was the first time he’s ever seen you react to him so blatantly. Moreover, it was the first time he felt so ashamed of his values. Knowing that the girl he fancied saw him in an ill light made him feel sick to the stomach.

“Tell me who your friends are, and I’ll tell you who you are.” His father’s words echoed ever so clearly within his mind as Draco continued to think about you. The boy felt like he stood at a crossroad upon recalling your exact words. Uncertainty and instability filled the borders of his belief system, situating himself between the tug-o-war of his heart and mind. However, what hadn’t changed was his ardent desire to feel the warmth again. Therefore, as he situated himself in his shamefulness, he thought of ways to gain your familiarity once more.

Meanwhile, as the day trudged on, your thoughts distracted you from focusing on your studies, and you found yourself filled with an odd mixture of emotions. It initially comprised anger and frustration, but soon transformed into disappointment the more your mind lingered on the subject. Your internal turmoil had projected itself in the form of your oddly quiet nature, catching Hermione’s attention. While you were able to conceal your feelings for the young heir, the girl was always still pretty perceptive with your body language, so it wasn’t difficult for her to notice when you acted so distant throughout the day. She began suspecting you when she saw you doodling on your parchment instead of taking actual notes during transfiguration. Not wanting to assume so much, she continued to observe you. Her assumptions, however, were confirmed during dinner. You typically feasted excitedly whenever pasta and cookies were served, but as the others continued to pile their plates, your usually bubbly aura remained absent.

“Y/N” she called out to you. You looked up from the sad pile of noodles on your dish.

“Yes?”

“Are you okay?” The concern that was conveyed in her voice broke your walls. You weren’t sure what it was about Hermione, but she always seemed to have a nurturing and motherly character. You were very thankful for it.

“I’m not actually,” you said softly, not wanting to gain the attention of others, “Can I confide in you?” Your eyes searched hers with desperation for a solution. Noticing this, she motioned her head towards the entrance of the hall and picked up her plate to make her way there. You copied her actions without looking at your group of friends. Fortunately, though, they didn’t seem to notice. You didn’t want to draw any attention to yourself with your issues.

As you exited the room, your eyes met briefly with Draco’s as his vision followed your movement. You didn’t know how to react, so you kept to yourself and kept on walking. You and Hermione found yourselves situated on a bench in the same courtyard where your clash with the boy had occurred. The moon was shining above you, as the lights from the illuminated hallway framed the scene’s serenity with comfort and familiarity. You held your plate on your lap as you twirled your fork to pick up some of the pasta.

“Okay, what’s the matter?” The girl asked.

You started off slowly, “I have a question- a hypothetical one.”

“Go on.”

“Let’s say you like someone, and he’s entirely different from you. You don’t know him much, but he makes you feel good. He treats you well, and you want to know him more. When you get to spend time with him, those feelings only get amplified, and it feels perfect.” You take a break to examine her reaction so far. She only urged you to go on.

You continue, “But it starts to crumble when he says something insensitive about something you care about. Of course, you get mad. Who would ever say such a thing? Right?” She nods in agreement.

“But what if you still want to like him despite the disappointment and frustration? What would you do?” Hermione’s eyebrows were furrowed as she allowed herself to contemplate on the situation you described.

“I suppose there should be a reason for his opinion. Hmm...If he truly cared, then ideally, he would talk to you. There might not be any excuse for his actions, but if he makes the effort to talk to you, then I feel that would show that he considers your feelings. How you respond is totally up to you, but on your end, I say that you should allow him to speak and listen.”

“Even if he was a total arse?”

“Speaking from a logical standpoint, you’d be a total idiot to accept an arse. However, disappointment and mistakes are bound to happen when getting to know someone. You might as well allow the person to show himself without your expectations pinned on him. You might be surprised with what may result from it.”

“What if it’s not good?”

“Don’t hesitate to walk away. You are deserving of much more than an ignorant git.”

You were grateful that Hermione didn’t press forward to ask about the identity of this person. Furthermore, her words imprinted themselves in your mind as the week went on. It made you feel a bit better, but Draco made no approach to you ever since that night, leaving you with a bitter taste of discouragement. Despite that, you found pride in keeping your emotions at bay, deciding to focus more on your schoolwork instead of allowing your mind to wander far. Friday had come along, which meant that you found yourself in the library once again. You recalled the week prior, and how your level of attraction towards the boy skyrocketed in the span of two days. It was in this very building that sparked your attraction, but you began to falter on the thought that it would become something more.

You sat at the same desk you did last week. Papers scattered all over once again. This time it was study of ancient runes, a class that you did well in. A good hour was put into translating runes to English, however the passage was so extensive that the process felt like ages. Feeling as though your head was about to explode, you laid your head down over the mounds of work hoping to close your eyes for a bit. Your moment of peace was interrupted upon the sound of an unknown object landing in the space in front of you. As you lifted your head, your sight was drawn to the presence of a paper crane. Written on its wing says, “Open it”. You follow the instruction with pure curiosity. Within the folds of the paper is another command: “Meet me at the reference section, vanishing charms.” You wearily look around to find any clue who the sender of the crane might be. Without a single sense of danger, you stood up from your seat, not bothering to tidy up your things, and navigated your way to the reference section.

Your fingers trailed through spines of familiar books as you recalled the first assignment you and Draco had worked on. A rosy feeling spread across your chest as you remembered how unusual his affections contrasted with his typical cold and insensitive demeanor. Could he be the sender? Why else would anyone guide you to the vanishing charm section in the library?

Soon, your fingers crossed over a foreign sensation, which broke you out of your thoughts. Your gaze was then set upon a piece of folded paper tucked so carefully between the spines. You pulled it out gingerly, admiring the precision of the creases before opening it. The next message elicited a smile from you:

“I was never good with expressing feelings. I still find it pathetic and have denied the ones I’ve had for you so long. Much to my annoyance, though, I find it pleasurable reminiscing the scene that took place in this remote little spot.” Your eyes trailed to the bottom of the page.

“Do you remember where we sat to work on the essay?” Your heart was bounding as the context of the messages confirmed the identity of the owner. Much like your first interaction with him, you didn’t know what to expect. That, however, did not stop you from walking towards the table situated beneath the window that casted rays of light from the setting sun. You began your search for the next note. The surface of the table was empty, chairs were tucked in neatly—it didn’t seem as though anyone had crossed this area.

‘What would Draco do?’ You thought. You recalled qualities that you were familiar with. He was pretty witty. At times he was annoyingly rude as well. He comes from a wealthy family with corrupt ideals. Regardless, the warmth that he had shown you had no tone of ill intent behind it. In fact, its very existence, in contrast to what others saw, illustrated an image of the boy being surrounded by walls within your mind. You then concluded that if you were Draco, you would be cautious about displaying affection. Keeping this in mind, you thought of areas that could be discrete enough to hide a note. Your hand reached towards the underside of the table and skimmed through its rough texture, hoping to find any abnormalities. Suddenly, a wave of satisfaction overcame you as your finger pads were met with a contrasting smooth surface. As you did before, you carefully plucked the new paper crane as your excitement continued to grow. The words “Almost there” was written across the wing. You opened the note and there was, yet again, another message:

“Y/N, truth be told, I’m quite taken by you—Your beauty, your warmth, the comfort you bring, your shyness when you say my name, the way you look when you’re so focused as you work, even the way you interact and defend your other Gryffindor friends,”

“I’ve made a mistake that Monday morning, yet the time spent away from you makes no difference in the way your presence occupies my mind. I fail at the very act of shoving you away. I see glimpses of you in smallest and largest parts of my day. Meet me at your desk?”

Written on the bottom of the note was a signature: “Draco Lucius Malfoy”

While peace filled you, there was still a feeling of uncertainty. You were overjoyed by the fact that Draco had feelings for you, but there was no denying that a relationship with him would be difficult. The boy carried a lot of baggage, and you weren’t sure if you could handle it. However, with a brave face, you walked towards the area where you had started your little adventure.

As you drew near, there was a familiar blonde figure seated at your desk. His facial features filled with admiration as his fingers stroked your work, fingers flipping through the loose pages of parchment. You giggled to yourself, recalling the way you had done the same just a week prior.

You came up from behind him and whispered in his ear, “Hello, Draco Lucius.”

His heart almost beat out of his chest at the sound of his name rolling so fluidly through your mouth. You pulled out the seat next to him and gave him a sad smile, his eyes not leaving yours for a moment. There was silence. Both parties were at a loss for words to say, and so you remain seated without a sound, allowing the comfort to trickle in.

It had been five minutes since you arrived, and Draco kept his head down low as his stare stuck to your knees. He, then, hesitantly looks up at you, and with a soft voice, he asks, “May I?” You meet his gaze before his eyes flutter to your hands. Instead of giving a response, you grab his hand and interlace your fingers with his, your other hand covering the one that’s already clasped. You immediately take notice how large his hand feels as it’s wrapped within your own. Silence overcomes you once again as your thumb rubs the surface of his own. It was a sensation both had missed

“I’m sorry.” The words tumble out of his mouth suddenly. You look up to see that he’s already staring at you.

He repeats himself, “I’m sorry.”

The silvery eyes that were once filled with arrogance and pride were now desperately searching yours with regret. If they could speak, they’d be screaming right now. You squeezed his hand harder before unfolding it only to hold it once more, except this time you were tracing the lines engrained on his palm.

“May you explain to me why you said those things?” You asked gently.

“Can we go somewhere more private?” He responds, his tone expressing a tinge of vulnerability. You give a nod of understanding before reaching over the table to gather your belongings. You hadn’t noticed how fast your heart had been beating until this point. All of your affectionate gestures came naturally within the moment that when you released his hand from your grasp, your emotions caught up to you.

You take a look at him and notice subtle things. You notice the way he towers over you, the way his body is angled in your direction, leaning towards you with a possessive stance. You notice the way his hands hang loosely on his sides and how he keeps his gaze on you with an expression that you can’t quite describe. His breathing is even but he looks at you with much intensity.

“Draco,” You call out. His attention goes to your face. Allowing your need for affection to overtake you once more, you take his hand once again and look in his eyes—they looked much relaxed now. You release a small a smile before standing on your tip toes to plant a long and affectionate kiss on his cheek. His grip on your hand had tightened in response.

Your lips ghost over his ear, “Lead the way.”

A/N: Idek. I hope you have a great day tho!

Taglist: @m-winchester-67 @bbeauttyybbx @un-limit-edd @poetontheblock @tttyrus @stretchyice @vaeonshi @bittersweetthoughts–ofinsanity @saptediavoli @kookie-vuitton @thatguppienamedbae @ccabian

#Draco Malfoy #draco malfoy fanfiction #draco malfoy imagines #draco x reader #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy x you #draco malfoy x y/n #draco malfoy x gryffindor #Draco Malfoy x OC #draco x you #draco x y/n #harry potter fanfiction #slytherin #Gryffindor

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artificialqueens · 4 years ago

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These People in This Room (Don't Shine Like You) (Diamond Chaney) - Ortega

summary: Lawrence has just been crowned the winner of RuPaul’s Drag Race UK, and Ellie is right beside her. Just like she’s always been.

a/n: omg HIIIIII! here’s my entry to the fic challenge (will it be my only one? who can say). in a shocking turn of events this is not a drabble asdfghjk but would we have expected anything concise from me? this fic was inspired by Shine and Starstruck, both by Years and Years. they are very diamond chaney songs so pls do give them a little listen for full effect! standard procedure, she/her pronouns bc they’re in drag, u know the drill. this has taken me entirely too long to write but pls enjoy some diamond chaney from the night of the crowning! (pls also collectively pretend they had an actual dancefloor to celebrate on and not just a hotel room bc i had already started writing at the point Ellie posted her BTS. fic is just one big serving of pretend anyway xo)

***

It’s somewhere around midnight, the sun has set on Thursday and Friday has crept in, and Lawrence is sitting in a booth with the dancefloor flashing bright colours in front of her, only just daring to believe that this is her actual life.

There is not a single moment that seems real. Even being one of the top four took her essentially since filming stopped to come to terms with. But hearing her name being read out, hearing the other girls cheer for her and being able to do nothing but stare at the screen in disbelief with her hands over her mouth and sob like a baby…that’s not sunk in yet. Maybe it never will. She’s still feeling the after-effects from the way the shock and euphoria had kicked seven shades of shit out of her pulse, the way the serotonin had crashed over her like a wave and the absolute unbridled lack of control she’d had over any of her emotions.

When the cameras had been cut off and they’d been given the all-clear from the producers that they could hug each other, Lawrence had only managed to stand up from the chair, still in floods of tears as Bimini bundled their arms around her, Tayce had jostled them all with the way she’d jumped up and down and yelled in delight, and Ellie had looped her arms around her neck and murmured into her shoulder, words Lawrence couldn’t hear but felt the love from regardless.

It had to be Ellie, really, that crowned her. It was a full-circle moment. She still remembers the night they met for the first time; Dundee in 2016, some time in the early hours of the morning (she’d probably called it ‘bastard o’clock’ or something similar), coming out of the bar and being stopped by a boy in half-drag similar ages with her who spoke rapidly and excitedly and told her that he’d messaged her about starting drag and she’d replied to him. The way realisation had dawned on her and the way she’d been her usual loud and boisterous self to cover up the fact she’d actually been quite bashful about the fact they were meeting for the first time.

There was no alternative, not least because of everything they’ve been through together; the years leading up to this moment and the rollercoaster it’s all been. She’s glad that they’re on a high because they’ve seen each other at their lows (been the cause of each others’ too, sometimes) and pulled through only slightly scathed, but always stronger. The producer had asked Lawrence who she’d wanted and when she, still speechless, had pointed in Ellie’s direction, seeing the tears start to stream down her face had only made Lawrence’s start all over again. They’d hugged- just the two of them this time- and the way Ellie had immediately felt like a safe place in the crazy chaos of reality reminded Lawrence so much of when they had filmed. The way even just hearing Ellie’s voice would stop her feeling homesick, the way she was a living comfort blanket.

She’d never tell that to Ellie, of course, because she’d never hear the end of it if she did.

It’s been a couple of hours and Lawrence is expecting everything to suddenly sink in any minute now. Something will click like the last piece of a puzzle and she’ll finally accept that she’s won, that the whole thing isn’t a giant and premature April fools’ prank. She turns her phone over in her hand, wondering what all this nervous energy is doing to her body chemistry. She’s got messages from her family, her friends, Kiko, the girls she works with back home. Well…some of them. But apart from reading them and frantically replying, Lawrence hasn’t checked anything else; hasn’t opened Twitter or Instagram, where the notifications are piling up like pizza leaflets through a letterbox and are equally as unwanted. If she thinks about them she can feel her stomach twist, wrung out like a wet towel.

Forty thousand likes. The Team Bimini tweet had forty thousand likes. What did her own get? Eight thousand? Lawrence thinks about the sheer scale of forty thousand people, compares it to the population of towns in Scotland. Almost Airdrie. Just under Coatbridge. She imagines a whole town of people, angry and furious and disappointed, and all of them tweeting her to let her know exactly that. She remembers in high school when she thought the whole of Hermitage was against her. She wants to tell baby Lawrence that that was fucking small fry. A thousand kids? Try the sheer scale of Bimini’s fanbase. Her breath is shaky when she tries to breathe in, like her lungs have reduced in size. It reminds her of that time in school camp when they all had to jump from a pier for some unknown-fucking-reason, how freezing the water had been and how her chest felt tight as she gasped for air. Lawrence supposes it was character building in the sense that it prepared her exactly for how anxiety would make her feel later in life.

In for four. Hold for five. Out for six.

“There she is!”

An ever so slightly slurred and wobbly voice breaks Lawrence’s reverie, and when she looks up she sees Ellie approaching her, a little unsteady even in the flats she’s changed into with a glass of prosecco in each hand. It says a lot that even at the top of a helter-skelter of an anxiety spiral, Lawrence’s heart still gives a little swell when she sees her friend. Ellie has always been able to make her feel better. She feels an almost silly sense of relief that she’s here.

Lawrence takes one last little breath in before plastering a small smile to her face. “Awrite? Where’s Mumma Diamond?”

“In her room conked out. Just got back from putting her to bed, she couldn’t hack it. Letting down the family name, that one,” Ellie huffs, sliding into the booth and squashing up right beside Lawrence, even though there’s enough space for two metres distance even if they had still been under strict instructions from the BBC.

“Tayce?” Lawrence asks, gratefully accepting the prosecco glass and hurriedly downing a too-big gulp in an attempt to calm herself down.

“Facetiming A’whora. Of course.”

“Of course. Maybe a bottle and a half of prosecco is gonny be the love potion she never knew she needed.”

“Fuck, we can only hope,” Ellie grins, already laughing through her words. “If we’re gonna be touring with them I don’t wanna have to karate chop through five layers of sexual tension every time I have to walk past them.”

Lawrence chuckles, tired but humoured and unable to not make the so-obvious joke. “You couldny fight sleep.”

“Shut the fuck up, I’ll fight you in a minute!” Ellie nudges her with her shoulder and spills both of their prosecco from the glasses in their hands. The gesture is affectionate and out of place with the impending threat. “Where’s Bims? Thought they were with you.”

Lawrence shrugs. “Went out for a smoke with one of the runners about twenty minutes ago and never returned.”

“Good for them. Always thought there’s something inherently sexy about a winch in a back alley.”

“Well, you would know.”

“Eh, so would you!” Ellie cries, nothing short of incredulously offended. Her expression makes her look even more like a cartoon character than usual, and it’s entirely too endearing.

“Yeah, forgot that popular phrase. It takes two to winch in a back alley,” Lawrence jokes, but her heart isn’t in it. It’s too heavy and her ribcage feels like someone laced her into a corset and pulled it too tight. She’s hoping Ellie is too drunk to notice.

Ellie sips her prosecco with her eyes on her, then scrutinises her as she swallows it. She frowns, her nose wrinkling up as she prods Lawrence with an acrylic-nail finger. “What’s up?”

Fuck.

“The sky,” Lawrence says without conviction, and the raised eyebrow Ellie gives her in return is enough to unlock her. She deflates like a balloon and brings her phone up so Ellie can see it, turning it over in her hands. “Just…as happy as I am, and as much as this is all a dream come true…I keep psyching myself up to open any social media, and I can’t, because this one fucking brain cell of anxiety keeps telling me that everyone out there hates me and hates the fact I’ve won.”

Ellie’s face falls into a frown. She gently pries the phone out of her hands and places it on the table, takes one of Lawrence’s free hands in hers and rubs her thumb over her knuckles. “But all your other brain cells know that’s wrong.”

Lawrence sighs. “So why’s that one louder than all the rest?”

Ellie presses her lips together in a badly-suppressed smile. She’s giggling as she speaks. “Because you’ve only got two brain cells.”

Lawrence splutters a laugh, shoving Ellie with her free hand. The other is still laced together with hers. As the laughter dies down and the momentary serotonin wears off, Lawrence can feel her brow furrowing involuntarily. “Forty thousand people wanted Bimini to win, Ellie. Forty thousand. You know that’s like a whole town? That’s like the population of Coatbridge?”

“ Fuck Coatbridge!” Ellie exclaims, affronted, and her shock and insistence makes Lawrence snort all over again. “Okay, forty thousand people is a town but really, what’s that to the rest of the world? Think how tiny that is in the grand scheme of things, Lawrence! Honestly, give a fuck about what any bastard who wants to send you anything vile thinks of you! You’re so amazing! You won! Fuck everyone else!”

Lawrence wants to feel cheered up. The prosecco Ellie’s drunk is making her all the more animated and lively, giving her words a determination and a passion that her speech so rarely possesses most of the time. Ellie is calm, and she doesn’t get wound up easily. There’s something about the fact she’s growing this animated over getting Lawrence to believe in herself that warms her heart a little.

Then again…

“It’s not just that, though. There’s girls from home that haven’t even said well done. Girls I’ve always supported and couldn’t do enough for, and it’s like…really? You can’t be happy for me when I’ve actually managed to do the one thing I’ve wanted to do for years?”

“Well maybe they have said well done, and you’ve just not seen it because you’ve been hiding,” Ellie gestures matter-of-factly at her phone. It doesn’t convince her.

“They won’t have. You’ll know who I’m talking about, Ellie.”

Ellie sighs a little, clearly conceding that Lawrence is right. Her grip on her hand tightens a little, and when Lawrence looks up at her in response her blue eyes hold a glint of assurance.

“Well, even if they haven’t…fuck ‘em. Onwards and upwards, chick. You’ve got ten new sisters out of this who’re always going to know what it’s like, they’re gonna be here for you no matter what,” Ellie says comfortingly. Lawrence knows why she’s said ten and not eleven, but Ellie affirms this with another squeeze and a slightly shy smile. “And you’ve always got me. You’ve always had me.”

This is true. She’s always had Ellie. Before the show, doing gigs with her and hanging out with her and going to DragCon with her. On the show, always there to reassure her or pull her out of a negative spiral or just lean against her shoulder and squeeze her hand. And after the show. Whatever that might look like. Whatever that might be.

She supposes that neither of them know yet.

“C’mon,” Ellie says decisively, holding out a hand for her as the song changes. It’s some sort of Paolo Nutini dirge, and Lawrence has to laugh at how obviously whoever is in charge of the music has rushed to attempt to find something Scottish. Lawrence can only blink at Ellie’s outstretched hand.

“Oh, fuck off.”

“Come on! ” Ellie laughs. Lawrence doesn’t know if she’s blushing or if it’s just the lights.

But she does know that she can’t leave Ellie hanging when she’s looking at her like that.

So Lawrence lets herself be dragged out to the dancefloor and pulled into a hug as Ellie sways them left to right ever-so-slightly out of time with the song, tipsy and full of affection given the way her arms are locked around Lawrence’s waist. It should feel stranger than it does. In reality, being held by Ellie feels as simple as just existing.

Or perhaps simpler than that, given the fact that Lawrence’s existence feels entirely surreal right now.

“You have to be in drag for half past se-ven,” Ellie sing-songs, bringing one of her arms out from around Lawrence’s waist and tapping her on the nose. Lawrence immediately misses it, so it’s a relief that it’s not gone for long.

“Because I wo-on,” Lawrence imitates back to her, and the way Ellie squeezes her waist in response and affirmation causes a smile and a blush to bloom on her face without her even being to control it. She rests her head against Ellie’s chest so she can’t have the satisfaction (ammunition) of seeing how she makes her feel.

It’s little moments like that that she needs right now. Anchors to keep her down on earth, to let her know that this isn’t just some really prolonged lucid dream and it’s all actually happening because currently reality is so absurdly ridiculous; she’s just won Drag Race and she’s slow-dancing with Ellie to the song that’s blasting through the speakers in the background, a parody of some American high school prom where she’s just been crowned the queen.

Moments like these- where Ellie’s holding her close as if she’s literally trying to protect her from the world- remind her that not everybody is against her. Not everybody hates her. Not everybody is wishing her a slow and painful death because Bimini didn’t win, least of all them. She knows that Ellie was never able to share what team she was on even though she hadn’t had a chance at the crown, but she didn’t have to. Not really. They’ve always been on each others’ team.

Ellie jolts Lawrence out of her daydream with the way her chest is shuddering, and Lawrence momentarily thinks she’s crying again before her soft giggle becomes audible over the music.

“What?” Lawrence tilts her head up, meeting Ellie’s scheming, smirking face.

“Can’t believe RuPaul Charles asked if you wanted to move to London, city of dreams, city of a thousand opportunities…” Ellie begins, Lawrence already laughing as she knows what the conclusion to her sentence will be. “…and you said, ‘yer awrite pal, am fine in Glesga wi the jakes an’ the Blue Lagoon chippy an’ the guy that stands on Buchanan Street and yells at everyone that they’re going to hell!’ ”

Lawrence would normally roll her eyes at Ellie’s impersonation of her accent, but she’s laughing too much at the joke that’s forming in her head to commit to it. “RuPaul asked if I wanted to move to London, and I said…”

The pair of them are almost giggling too much to get the punchline out, Ellie clocking on to how it’s going to end. In sync, the pair of them splutter out a “… NNNNAAW! ”

Giddy and happy, Lawrence rests her cheek against Ellie’s chest again. “London’s got junkies too, anyway.”

“This is gonna sound really selfish, but…don’t actually move to London,” Ellie’s voice murmurs from above her, and there’s something plaintive to it that makes Lawrence refrain from replying with a joke or a barb like she normally would. The way Ellie follows it up cements that fact. “It would probably be so good for you, but like…Glasgow would be lost without you, genuinely. And so would I.”

Lawrence can’t cry again tonight, even if it’s only because she thinks it’s physically impossible, so she just squeezes Ellie tight until she worries about her ability to breathe. “I’m not going anywhere, hen.”

Lawrence doesn’t even really know what they are, her and Ellie. They both still have Grindr and they talk about their hookups and raised hopes and broken hearts with each other like friends. But they’re not really just that. They’re affectionate, and they open up to each other with the same shared unspoken understanding of something Lawrence doesn’t understand. They hug for too long and cuddle up to each other when they’re together, and Lawrence can’t count the amount of times during filming that she’d find strength in the way Ellie would squeeze her hand without a word. They’ve woken up together too many times (why she’d felt the need to remind Ellie of that while the cameras were rolling, she’ll never know) and kissed each other more than that. Every time they say I love you they mean it, but they also mean a little bit more. There’s no butterflies or fast pulses or fluttering hearts- they’re past that stage. Everything is just natural and normal and easy.

She wonders if they’ll ever put a label on what they have. There’s a part of her that doesn’t ever want to.

“If we’re both still single by the time we’re forty,” Lawrence begins, leaning back to look at Ellie through her glazed, half-drunk half-tired eyes. “…we should just say ‘fuck it’ and get married.”

(She doesn’t even know if it’s a joke or not.)

Ellie laughs as if it is and nods as if it isn’t. “Drag wedding. We’d need to upstage Tayce and A’whora, though.”

Lawrence realises something. “I’ll turn forty two years before you.”

There’s a pause as the song starts to fade out, and it makes Ellie’s murmur seem louder than it is. “That’s okay. We don’t need to wait for me.”

The jolt her words give Lawrence’s heart and the way Ellie’s talking as if it’s an actual plan makes her think maybe it wasn’t really ever a joke after all. It’s ridiculous though, and it’s all theoretical, and it’s a totally hypothetical scenario, and they’re both drunk , for Christ’s sake. So Lawrence pulls out of Ellie’s arms and takes her hands in her own, the song that’s started playing more upbeat and the opening chords inciting some sort of hope and optimism in her heart for the future that’s unfolding for the pair of them.

“One more song then bed?” she suggests. Ellie raises her eyebrows as she looks down at her.

“Whose bed?”

“Shut the fuck up, Dirty Diamond,” Lawrence shoots back without missing a beat, and as the first lines of the song fill the room she leans back and begins to spin the pair of them in a circle, both of them laughing as if everything is as simple as just that room, and the music blaring out from the speakers, and the lights flashing above them drenching them in purple and pink.

#rpdr fanfiction #rpdr uk #ellie diamond #lawrence chaney #ellie x lawrence #fic challenge #rare pair #uk2 #canon compliant #fluff #ortega #these people in this room (don’t shine like you)

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justjessame · 4 years ago

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Starting Over Chapter 26

I finished my call with Connie, who was begging for details about just how hot things had gotten between Bucky and me, forcing me to ask her how she’d feel if I pressed her for details about her sex life with Joey.

“What do you want to know?” She asked, clearly settling in for a LONG chat. “Favorite positions? How we have to squeeze it in between games or how we have to smother noises so Bryn doesn’t hear us having fun times and want to see what Mommy and Daddy are doing so she can join in?” I cringed so badly that I felt certain she could FEEL it. “Seriously, Brooke, I’ll share anything you want to know.”

“Yeah, I’m good,” I shook off the idea of Joey naked, a guy who was like a brother to me. “I thought it would nip your curiosity in the bud, weirdo.”

Connie snickered. “Sure,” I could hear her opening a can of something, soda or booze I couldn’t guess. “I have to live through you, Brookie, you’re my single friend who is dating an AVENGER.” I shook my head and rolled my eyes. “Bucky Barnes isn’t just an Avenger, he’s Captain America’s best friend who happens to be over a hundred years old and still looks like he looks. I mean, there are LAYERS of hotness there.”

I couldn’t disagree with her there, so I gave her a few nuggets to keep her from going completely batty. Enough to whet her appetite, but not enough to make me unable to make eye contact when both Bucky and I were in her presence together. After promising to check in with her within REASON, I told her goodbye and got out of the car - grabbing my camera from the trunk and then locking the car before heading down the docks in search of inspiration for my portfolio.

I spent the day capturing life on the docks in a small Louisiana town. Instead of focusing on Sam and Bucky, with a dose of Sarah and her sons, I weaved through the other boats and fishermen snapping shots that caught my eye - the way the light danced off the ripples on the water or the way the men and women worked with purpose but also with a shared love of their jobs. No one posed, even when they took notice of me snapping pictures, they simply took my presence as a normal one. Maybe equating me with Sam’s return and Bucky’s added residency - just one more person to join their group and the camera came along for the ride.

I was sitting on a bench going through the frames as the sun was sinking lower when I felt him join me, his shadow my first warning, but his warmth coming soon after.

“You kept your distance today,” Bucky’s arm found a home along the back of the bench and across my shoulders, the scent of hard work and his musk invading my senses and getting the smile I’d decided was his alone to curl across my lips. “Did you get any good shots?” He leaned closer, our temples touching so he could see the viewer.

“I didn’t do too badly,” I offered, tilting the camera a little so he could see better. “How about you? Is the boat looking good enough to sell?” I moved closer, like a moth to a flame, needing to be closer to him.

He hummed, moving his free hand to help my immobile finger click through my pictures. “It’s getting there.” He paused at a picture I’d taken that had the boats out of focus, but the ripples of the water were perfectly in focus, the light capturing each ripple and you could see the fish just below. “How do you do this?” He sounded so impressed, like he couldn’t imagine anyone being able to do it.

I shrugged. “It’s the same as with the boys and the shield really.” It was, you just had to capture the light at the right moment. “The light has to hit at the right moment, and you have to be in the right spot.” It wasn’t that huge of a deal, almost anyone with a camera and patience could do it. “It does look nice.”

“Nice,” he shook his head and turned to stare into my eyes. “Brooke, you amaze me.” I opened my mouth to tell him if he was shocked by this trick he should see what I could do with a color splash editing, but he didn’t give me a chance, his head dipped and his mouth met mine and anything I planned on saying died as the urge to taste him took over.

Just like when I arrived and we first saw one another at Sarah’s house, everything else fell away and we forgot where we were and that there were other people nearby. When Bucky touched me, when our lips met we forgot the world - but lucky for us Sam was close by and he came to our “rescue”. With a gentle tap on Bucky’s head and a LOUD reminder that we were still on the docks, we managed to pull apart, but it was a close one.

“Y’all are going to end up in jail for indecent exposure,” Sam was smirking, dimple digging deep in one cheek. “I swear to God, I think a few of these folks were using their cell phones to record y’all and no one wants to see that go viral.” My eyes went wide just thinking about Connie getting her eyes on that - Shit. “Yeah, exactly.” He shook his head, but his grin didn’t leave his face. “Might I suggest you head back to your hotel? You know, before someone calls the police, or the dock catches fire?”

Bucky rolled his eyes. “You act like no one down here ever kisses in public,” he stood up and held out his hand to help me up. “I swear, Sam, you’re a prude.” He shook his head. “I expected someone from YOUR time to be more OPEN.” He was staring at Sam like he expected better and that had me biting my lip to hold back my laughter.

“PDA is a fine line to walk, Bucky Barnes,” Sam countered. “A FINE line, and what y’all were doing was crossing the line into the indecent.” Sam shook his head. “Should head to a church and light a candle, that’s what you should be doing.”

“You’re advising that I go to Mass?” Bucky was staring at him like he’d lost his damn mind and I was thinking I was going to end up pissing my pants from this showdown. “Are you even Catholic? Are you sure I am?” He was staring at Sam and I couldn’t look at either of them anymore, or I’d fucking die.

“Pretty sure Brooke is,” Sam tossed out and I snorted, I couldn’t help it, it just slipped out. “See!” Not sure how my snort was proof, even though I AM Catholic, but still. “She is, told you.”

“She snorted at you because you’re crazy,” Bucky sounded like he was about to call the loony bin to have Sam locked up. “Light a candle.” He sighed. “We’ll light candles, alright.” He was still holding my hand, but his fingers were sliding over my knuckles in a way that told me those candles weren’t going to be anywhere near a church. “Candles, a nice hot bubble bath, then bed -” my stomach clenched and a few other places. “And trust me, Sam, if we DO go to church? The priest is gonna need to go to Mass to have someone to confess to afterward.”

We were in the car on the way to the hotel and I was still holding back laughter and I was feeling a little - well to be honest, Bucky set a pretty high fucking bar. It was quiet again, but I had some thoughts to be lost in. Finally I had to let something out, so I went with the giggles from the utter insanity of it all.

“Better?” Bucky asked, once I let out most of the hysterical laughter I’d pent up during his and Sam’s back and forth. I gasped myself back to some sense of calm, and nodded, but then the absurdity of what he had alluded to about what we would be getting into during our alone time started to set in and I wondered if I could even manage that level of - what the fuck was he thinking?!

“The priest is gonna need to confess after is he?” I was fidgeting, wondering what the hell I was getting myself into with this superman?

Bucky chuckled, pulling into the lot of our hotel, but then he realized that I wasn’t joining him and he parked and turned to me. “Brooke?” Seeing my fingers tugging at my shirt hem and fiddling with the seatbelt, he unbuckled it. “What is it?”

“That’s a pretty damn high standard, Buck.” I bit my lip and his thumb met my teeth and traced where I was worrying the skin. “I don’t want to disappoint.”

“Oh, doll, no.” He shook his head and unbuckled his own seatbelt. Pulling me to him, he held me and told me that I couldn’t disappoint him, ever. “You are more than I deserve, more than I can ever hope to deserve.” I was about to argue, but he stopped me. “This is me calming you down, Brooke Ashley,” he reminded me. And I smiled at him. “I may have went a bit overboard in baiting Sam, but what we have - it’s more than I ever expected to ever have with anyone.” His brow was furrowed and he was cupping my face between his hands, holding me as carefully as if I were made of glass. “You and me, Brooke. We could make a priest blush without trying, but if we DID try,” and that did it, I laughed, and his smile came back. Then our lips met and all was right in our world again.

We didn’t need the car horn to stop us this time. We even managed to bring my camera equipment and our phones upstairs with us. We ordered dinner and ate first. We did have a bubble bath, a tight squeeze in that hotel bathtub let me tell you, but then - like he’d taunted Sam, we came together in the hotel bed with enough force and need to make sure that should I choose to mention it during my next confession or Bucky during his - the priest would no doubt want to have a moment with his own confessor.

#bucky barnes/oc #the falcon and the winter soldier #alternate universe #mention of smut #FLUFF AND SMUT #humor

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depths-of-hope-and-despair · 3 years ago

Text

Doubts

The next day, Aditi opted to clear her conscience by planning for the future. The next few days, she could visit Hajime and talk out her concerns. The Trifle situation was... more difficult. She paced outside her sister’s door for.. hours it felt like. In reality, it was only five minutes of hyping herself up, only to chicken out and speed walk back to her room. Her brain being so busy with ideas and studying dreams means she felt exhausted by the end of the day. Enough to fall asleep normally instead of with alcohol.

She suspected these dreams in her sleep was a form of self-analysis. That Albert was merely a character that existed in her head, that she could use to learn about herself. But, his reactions were independent of her? That wouldn’t make much sense. Least to say, when the dream blurred into her vision, she was the first to speak this time. “Do you exist independently from these dreams?” She blurred out without giving a second to consider waiting.

“Good day to you too.” Albert responded without the usual bravado, reading through the notebook he had been writing in the whole time, clapping it shut again, the usual smile appearing back on his face as he responded casually: “I don’t see how this is relevant to our progression, Aditi. If we were here to smalltalk and dilly dally, I would have met you in a cafe.”

He smirked a little as he remarked: “Dilly dallying is quite the entertaining word, don’t you think?” He chuckled to himself as he opened a drawer in his desk, procuring some papers, eyes roaming over them.

“You’re as humorous as you are straightforward, Doctor.” Aditi muttered in annoyance.

“For today I thought we could do a little personality test. Nothing too intrusive, it is just there to distinguish your basic characteristics, like punctuality, empathy, introversion or extraversion etcetera etcetera, you can also choose not to answer if you are not comfortable. All of these questions can be responded with ‘yes’ or ‘no’, you do not need to elaborate in any way.”

Aditi folded her arms together, much like a pouting child and rolled her eyes. She figured that questioning him any further was a dead end at this point. He was fair too cryptic and waffling to let her in on secrets. With a disappointed huff, she nodded to give her agreement to the test.

He wrote Aditi’s name on the paper and then read some of the questions to her:

“When I see someone crying, I feel the urge to hug them and try to make them feel better.”

“I often miss public transportation.”

“You can find me at the club every Friday night.”

“Family is extremely important to me.”

“I need social interactions every day to function.”

“I like to try out new things.”

The first, made her pause. Did she feel the need to hug or comfort anyone she saw crying? The answer was no. Crying only immediately provoked curiosity in her. Her sympathy pains only seemed to be accessible only with her loved ones. People she knew, and already could appreciate. Both being true, her choice was to stay neutral. “No answer.”

The second was simple. The few times she relied on public transportation, she was never late. Rather she stressed about being early. “No.”

The third took no time either. Easily assumed, she was a wallflower, and hardly ever had fun at parties. Unless illegal means were involved. “No.”

Family. The ones she chose as family, yes. Celia? Trifle? Knifu? The first name, no. The second.. yes? And the third was yes. So, she decided to follow suit. “Yes.”

Did she need to interact with someone everyday? No. She went without it for years being raised by Celia. “No.”

Trying new things? Adventure. Discovery. Absolutely. “Yes.”

He nodded along to her answers, occasionally looking down to jot the right square, a smirk edging on his face at the attitude Aditi was giving him. “Are you doubting my measures? Just wait for it. By the end of this test you might be surprised by how much more I know about you. I’ll just need a day to properly evaluate it.”

Amusement was edging on his face, a weird static atmosphere starting to fill the office as he continued with his questions, making sure his voice was clear so there wouldn’t be misunderstandings.

Aditi stared back defiantly, clearly not buying his claim. Answering a few questions with yes or no wasn’t nearly enough to get an idea of what that person was like. The static noise and atmosphere didn’t phase her outside of a more narrowed sharp gaze. He continued:

“I regularly go on holidays.”

“I suffer from thoughts that don’t seem to be my own.”

“I don’t understand social cues often.”

“I have a hard time imagining myself in someone else's shoes.”

“I feel the urge to physically harm people that have done me wrong.” His eyes flicked up to her for a moment to see her reaction.

Regular holidays? That referred to taking breaks and enjoying the company of others, didn’t it? “Yes.” She nodded.

Hear thoughts that aren’t her own? She remembered struggling with this since childhood, even before Celia. “Yes.”

Social cues. At first, she struggled with them desperately. Nowadays? She was fair better at reading the room, but not too comfortable to call herself an expert. “Yes.”

This one was easy. A perspective empathy question. She often exorcised her ability to relive the memories of others, in order to gain more empathy for them. While it was intrusive, it was the fastest way to understand. “No.”

The last question caused some amount of discomfort. She clearly didn’t like the question. But she disliked her answer even more so. “... Yes.” She admitted, glancing away while doing so.

His grin widened at her answers, quickly writing down the answers and reassuring her. “You‘re doing great. Don’t worry, we are almost done...” He flipped the page, a soft singing was audible, so quiet it could almost be missed. It sounded like a little girl singing a nursery rhyme, but in another language, so it wasn’t sure what she was singing.

When he talked, it sounded like multiple voices, hushed whispers accompanying him like backup singers, but the man himself didn’t pay it any mind, continuing as if nothing weird was going on.

“I wish that I had more friends than I actually have.”

“I feel the urge to harm people for no clear reason.”

“I feel scared of what the future holds for me.”

“I feel guilty.”

“I feel disliked by people around me.”

“Get out of here.”

His voice was very quiet compared to the whispers that were accompanying him, maybe those weren’t actually the questions he was asking and just the whispers, but he looked at Aditi expectantly. The whispers were still audible, telling Aditi to leave.

Aditi listened to the whispers and singing combining together into a whirl of madness. It was much like a nightmare, one of the standard ones that showed anxiety in others. People could hear voices of disdain talking to them mostly when they themselves felt judged by others. None of this triggered her into a breakdown thankfully, only medical themes or visions of past mistakes caused her to falter. While unnerved, she pressed forward, eyes narrowing in response to his encouragement.

Did she want more friends? She has been told many times that she isn’t easy to approach, and when she takes initiative that can turn poorly as well. Part of her wishes was that she looked more inviting. “Yes.”

A desire to harm others for no reason. Generally, no. She didn’t want to hurt people without reason. Only when she lost control did she feel that impulse. Of course, she considered herself a sadist to an extent also. Those factors made this question difficult to answer. “No answer.”

Scared of the future? Who isn’t scared of the future? Of the unknown? It’s only natural to feel that way, right? “Yes.”

Guilty. She barely had to think of her answer. “Yes.”

Does she feel disliked? That’s strange too. Her whole life, she was surrounded by people who wanted to kill her, or adored her. The laboratory experiment children would’ve gladly watched her drop dead. The cultist would’ve given their lives for her. Only now was there a happy medium. But... the bitterness of the past wouldn’t let her see on the brighter side. “Yes.”

“Very good, Aditi. You are doing great. We are almost done actually.“ He jotted more stuff down, his expression looking a little off from just a few seconds ago.

“I just have 5 more questions for you and then we can end tonight’s session.“ he informed her, turning the Page, fingers tightening around the paper and crumpling it lightly. He opened his mouth, but suddenly his voice was completely gone. It was like he got muted, in his place the whispers filling the room. He still held eye contact, though it was more like he was looking through Aditi, something clearly on his mind. And instead of the questions she heard:

“I’m sorry this is all my fault.”

“You don’t deserve this.”

“It should have never come to this.”

“He’s hunting you. He’s a monster.”

“Get out of here.”

His mouth closed again and he looked at Aditi expectantly, waiting for her answers. He looked less worried and more hopeful now, a giddy glint in his eerie eyes.

While shutting out the instructive thoughts was easy enough when she could hear a voice over them. Now? No. It wasn’t easy at all. Not easy to stare straight again. Not easy to keep from flinching every time the voice asked a question. Not easy to hold her neutral gaze. It reminded her all too much of how it felt to lose control. To be consumed by despair. Her thoughts no longer being her own, only whispers and taunts, keeping her at bay, pulling her down to let her instincts do all of the work. Her head felt.. fuzzy. Aditi felt similarly at this moment. Her lips curled into an uncomfortable scowl. What the hell is this? It hadn’t been nearly this unsettling the other times they spoke. What was getting in the way?

Or.. was this the plan all along? To earn her trust more, only to make the dreams devolve into hellish nightmares? She sincerely hoped that wasn’t the case.

The whispers suddenly stopped as he opened his mouth again, asking Aditi: “Are you alright, Aditi? You look a bit pale.“

Something really didn’t want this session to continue. But if the doctor noticed, he did a good job at hiding it.

“..... I couldn’t hear your questions.” She admitted quietly, her eyes shifting around the room carefully. “Voices spoke over you. Whether they were in my head or not, I’m uncertain. They are...” She paused once again, thinking over if she should be honest or not in this situation. Ultimately, she decided against lying. “They are.. apologizing to me? Saying I do not deserve this. It should’ve never come to this? He, whoever that is, seems to be hunting me. He is a monster? They are.. telling me to leave..”

He regarded her, expression serious as he listened to Aditi, contemplating something for a few seconds, then ultimately sighing. He looked around the room again, as if he could make out the voices and silence them, ultimately deciding to try and explain: “It is probably your subconsciousness running wild from stress...“

He set the test aside, leaning forward to give Aditi a comforting touch. It was cold as ice.

“Let us end the session a little early, alright? You don’t need to answer those questions. I’ll just review the test without them.“ he reassured her, a sad glint in his eyes.

“Orabelle.”

The voices were a lot quieter now, but it was probably for the better to end this meetup earlier to start better off on the last one.

“Rest easy, Aditi. I’ll see you tomorrow.“

Aditi didn’t understand. She sat with shifting eyes, looking left to right like a frightened child. It made her feel weak for her emotions to be easily sensed or stated. It felt wrong to hear her dead name be spoken aloud in her ear, so wrong that it caused her to flinch back and fumble. Her eyes narrowed so angrily at the voice, she nearly forgot to take his hand. “... This was a mistake..” Her grip on his hand was uncomfortably tight now, she seemed to seethe with contempt.

This only happened after she put faith in him and gave away sensitive information about her past. She thought it was of little consequence, yet here it was... being shoved in her face. Taunting her. This being was taunting her, wasn’t he? Mocking her. Before she could convey her distrust, the dream had faded away like the smoke of fireworks.

#💥 live action 💥#🥀 aditi speaks 🎲#(( one more part left… ))

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imsorrymom124 · 5 years ago

Text

Then there were two

JJ x reader :)

dedicated to @sexualparkour because I see her under every JJ x reader fic I see I swear.

Also this is a part one, my first fic i have written (on here, throwback to middle school wattpad days YIKES) so I will keep writing if anyone is interested :)

There was only one rule that mattered to your friend group, and that was no pogue on pogue macking. You knew why the rule existed but you wanted more than anything for it disappear.

You met your friends at different times in your life. Kiara came first, you have been friends for almost 10 years, after meeting during the first grade orientation day where you spilled orange juice all over your new dress and she felt so bad she did the same to herself, so no one would laugh at you. That’s how you knew she was going to be your best friend. As you guys grew up, you started to add on to your circle, John B was always the leader of whatever activity he was doing and so he took charge after he joined. He brought Pope and JJ into the mix and that was that, your closest friends were suddenly all together.

And you liked it this way, you guys were closer than anybody you could think of on the island. You surfed, smoked, and talked about all of your problems together, you felt so lucky to have friends like these. Pope and Kiara were the logical ones of the group, whenever JJ talked about doing something insane, they were the ones to help talk him out of it. John B and you were the ones who could kind of get down with some of JJ’s outrageous ideas, and there was a reason for that. You always had a slight crush on JJ, but then again calling it slight was an understatement. JJ was crazy and irresponsible and sometimes it felt like unstable, but you knew he was much more than any of that.

“Dude, you are staring into space what is so interesting.” JJ said, poking you and pulling you out of your nostalgic trance.

“Ow! I was just thinking about how happy I am that we are all friends.” I said looking around the fire, to all of the pogues. They smiled and laughed in response, they felt it too. Sarah Cameron sighed and out her head on John B’s shoulder, they were really cute together. She had just joined the group after John B revealed they were dating, which was a mess at first but you all had accepted her as one of your own, despite her being the ultimate kook princess.

“Okay guys, we are running low on beer and weed, I am gonna have to call it.” John B said, rising from the couch holding onto Sarah.

“Yeah, I have a lot of deliveries to make in the morning, I should go.” Pope said rubbing his eyes and checking the time. “Ki, I’ll walk you home?” he said as he held out his hand. Kiara looked at him and smiled.

“Sounds like a plan to me.” She took his hand and they started to walk back from the beach, Sarah and John B not far behind.

I turned to JJ and wondered why he didn’t go with them. “Nowhere to be, Maybank?” I questioned.

He smiled briefly but then you saw it falter. “I don’t need to be home right now, too much of a downer.” He said, pushing his blonde hair back.

I knew that things at home were not good, his father was a drunk with a bad temper, I knew why he was the life of the party most times, he didn’t want the party to end.

“Besides,” He said meeting your gaze. “I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to hang out with the great Y/N and smoke my secret stash.” He suddenly pulls a bag of weed out of nowhere and raises his eyebrow at you.

“You in?” he asked. You weren’t much of a smoker, but smoking with him was always fun and you had to admit, you wanted to know how it would go if you two were alone.

“Roll it up.” you said with new-found confidence. He seemed surprised at your enthusiasm, but he just chuckled and opened up the bag.

***

“Do you think you could ever leave this place?” JJ said, lying beside you on the beach, watching the stars light up the night.

You turned to look at him before answering, he looked unreal to you right now. His blond hair was blowing with the sea breeze and his blue eyes were so bright, even in the dark somehow. Maybe you had smoked a bit more than you usually did.

“I don’t know, I love this place more than anything in the world. It’s my home, everyone I know is here and honestly the idea that any of my life is going to change freaks me out.” You rambled. “But at the same time, I know if I want to make anything of myself I need to get out of here, go to college and get a job or I’ll end up stuck like my parents.”

As you heard those words leave your lips you were surprised, you had never told anyone that before. “Do you think you could?”

JJ paused for a moment before answering. “I think about hopping on a boat and never looking back all the time, Y/N.” You felt your heart sink at the idea of him leaving.

“But, there’s you guys who are here and I couldn’t up and leave. No matter how bad my dad beats the living hell out of me, I can’t finish packing my bags.”

JJ had never openly admitted to you about his father’s abuse, you knew of course, but hearing it out loud made it more... real.

“I’m sorry.” You say suddenly.

“What do you have to be sorry for?” He asked looking at you. You turned you head down out of shame.

“I’m sorry I can’t do more to help you sometimes.”

JJ was silent for a minute, you were afraid you had said something wrong.

“I’m not anyone’s burden to bear. I can take care of myself, I have since my mom died.” He said plainly.

“You don’t have to though, we are all are here for you JJ. No matter what you do or what crazy plan you hatch, we will be there to catch you if you fall.” You said.

It was quiet for a while and then you felt his hand on yours. Your breath hitched from the sudden contact from him, but you let your fingers intertwine with his. His hands were rough, but you liked the feeling.

“You know, I don’t know what I would do without you.” JJ said, breaking the silence. You giggled, thinking he was being sarcastic, like he always was.

“I’m serious, you are always there.” He said more sternly.

You blushed and smiled at the thought of JJ thinking of you as someone important in his life “Well someone has to keep you from doing half the things you think up.”

JJ sat up and pretended to be offended. “I have literally never had a bad idea in my life.” He said.

You sat up as well. “Oh yeah? How about the time in ninth grade when you decided that you were going to jump Topper because he liked Ki and you were jealous?”

“Okay, that wasn’t a fair fight. He brought his kook clan to a one on one fist fight.” He exclaimed.

“Oh yeah, you would have beat him no problem Maybank.” I say sarcastically lying back down.

You turned to look at him and you saw he was just smiling at you. You felt better than you ever had in your life under his gaze.

“It’s really late, your folks are going to kill you. I’ll walk you home.” He said, standing up and motioning for you to follow.

You whine at the thought of walking all the way home. “Do I have to?” You said.

“As much as I would love to get killed by your old man for keeping you out late and smoking you up, you have to get back home.” He said chuckling to himself at your laziness.

You throw your hand up so he can help you stand up and he smiles and grabs it. Of course you hadn’t accounted for the fact that you were still incredibly high and you lose your balance almost instantly. JJ grabs you and pulls you into him out of reflex. You are mere inches from him, both faced towards each other. He looked up at him and he met your gaze. You could feel his breath on your lips and it sent shivers down your spine. You could have sworn you saw him look at your lips but, he suddenly laughed.

“Someone can’t handle the good shit.” He said pulling away, to your disappointment.

“Shut up, I am just clumsy.” You say defiantly.

“That you are, now let’s get your high ass home.”

You walked back to your house and saw the beginning of sunrise on the horizon as JJ turned to leave.

He paused and turned back. “We should do that again.”

You smiled and answered very quickly. “Yeah we should.”

He smiled to himself and waved goodbye before you went inside. You went up to your room and fell onto the bed, thinking over the events of the night. You almost could have sworn JJ was going to lean in and kiss you, but that was insane. That would be breaking rule number one, and although JJ breaks a lot of rules, and laws, that’s one he held to a high standard. But, you couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to kiss JJ. You fell asleep, dreaming of him.

#outer banks #jj maybank #john b outer banks #jj x y/n #fanfic #pope heyward #jj outer banks #jj maybank imagine #rudy pankow

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jaehyun-eclipsed · 5 years ago

Text

Before I Met You | Seven

Updates: Sundays, 8 PM EST

Pairing: NCT (Jaehyun, Lucas…) X Reader/OC

Genre: Romance, Angst, Coming of Age

Summary: Four. There were four people before I fell in love with you… Here are their stories.

Warnings: Some swearing

Author’s Note: Sorry I’m a little late!!

Before I Met You Masterlist

Prev | Next

Jaehyun presses his lips together. “So…” He pauses and blinks a couple times. “It just ended like that?”

I nod slowly. “Yeah, it was pretty anticlimactic.” I sigh. “I knew exactly how it was going to end. I mean, I was never given a reason to think otherwise and yet, the irrational part of my mind still wanted to have hope.”

“There’s nothing wrong with that… so long as you don’t let it consume you.”

“The fact of the matter is – well, I didn’t really know him. I knew everything on the surface and that’s why, if you asked me to describe him…” I shake my head in disappointment. “… I can’t.”

“At least you got confirmation that he did like you,” he says. “That’s more than most people can get.”

Introspection.

Introspection is a double-edged sword. It is one of the single most useful tools for self-analyses as it gives you the ability to think about your past actions and how they affected you and others. And hopefully, each time you reflect, you learn something… something that you can file away in the archives of your mind in case it ever happens again; so that you know how to deal with it and hopefully have a better outcome compared to your initial exposure. However, it is also one of the best inducers of anxiety and regret. What if? What if I had done this instead? Would things have been different? And those questions lead you down a rabbit hole you do not want to go down. It’s a one-way ticket to overthinking and sleepless nights.

Lucas taught me that sometimes things just fizzle out for no apparent reason. There’s no big ending scene where you get all the answers you’re looking for. And you certainly can’t guarantee a happy ending. To my disappointment, Seulgi also had more control over him than I would have liked and probably more than he even acknowledged himself.

“But honestly,” Jaehyun says, pulling me from my thoughts, “it sounds like you dodged a bullet.”

“In retrospect, yes,” I say, solemnly. “The things that would have mattered in maintaining a long-term relationship weren’t there. We were way too incompatible.” I shrug. “But I was young and inexperienced and it’s not like I was expecting anything major. So no harm, no foul.”

“Why did a girl steal him at the end both times?”

“Uncanny, isn’t it?”

“What happened with Seulgi?”

“She and Lucas attended university together. They still never dated, as far as I’m aware. She moved away after graduating and basically dropped off the grid. I’m pretty sure she was just using him to feel good about herself – feel like she had control over a boy and was desired.”

“And you never heard from Lucas again?”

I think for a moment.

I did hear from him once more many years later. Perhaps it was something he did out of regret over what happened; a bread crumb to indicate that he still has an affinity for me and that he’ll always support me from afar.

“Hello?” I say, picking up the phone.

“Hey! Did you see what Lucas posted on your Facebook page?” Hana asks.

“My what?”

“Yeah! Go look!”

I open the Facebook app on my phone, a single notification flashing red. When I tap on it, sure enough, Lucas had posted on my wall. One simple sentence that I would have never expected to hear from him in any form.

“Congratulations on getting into law school, Y/N!”

I don’t even have time to prevent the expletive from tumbling out of my mouth. “What the fuck?”

“Right?!”

“How did he even hear about this?”

“I don’t know. He must have heard it from someone you told.”

I ponder for a moment. “I didn’t really tell anyone… Though I did go visit our high school last week and mentioned it to some of the teachers. Maybe he heard that way.”

“I don’t know. But you know what this means!”

“What?”

“He still has the hots for you!”

I scoff. “He has a girlfriend, Hana.”

“That doesn’t mean he doesn’t still have the hots for you,” she says, amusement underlying her tone.

I laugh. “Doubtful, but I’ll take your word for it!”

Jaehyun rolls onto his side, propping his head up with his right arm.

“Well, I agree with Siwoo on one thing.” He smirks at me. “I think she was jealous of you.”

I give him a look of incredulity. “What?”

“Well, yeah. Sicheng confirmed it too,” he says, as if his statement was completely obvious. “Why else would she have pulled Lucas away so quickly at the dance? Besides, you also have more going for yourself than she does. And if she thrives off attention, it’s pretty likely she would have said something against you for the sake of keeping him at her beck and call.”

I frown. “That’s so silly, but you’re probably right.”

“Either that or he was intimidated by you – or both.”

He uses his free hand to caress my cheek, gently tilting my head to face him. “Hey,” he says with a smile, “I know I’m your boyfriend, so I’m probably biased, but I see you – I know what you’re like. I was intimidated by you – hell, I thought you were out of my league. There’s a pretty good chance he felt the same way. And there’s a pretty good chance that gave Seulgi a reason to be jealous.”

I hold his hand against my cheek, closing my eyes, enjoying his warmth before grinning at him.

“Yeah, you’re definitely biased,” I say, feeling flattered, yet slightly embarrassed as I wasn’t entirely convinced.

“But Y/N,” he says, “why do you think so many of your male friend’s girlfriends dislike you?”

I shrug. “I try not to put too much thought into it.”

He hums and nods his head. A moment of understanding.

I have a horrible habit of putting myself down more than I need to – thinking I’m not as good as how other people view me despite having the actual skills and abilities to back up those claims. I suppose it’s a form of insecurity. ‘Imposter syndrome’ is what they often call it. Despite having the résumé to demonstrate your abilities, you still never think you’re good enough.

Growing up, you’re told to remain humble – never bragging about yourself, being down-to-earth. But there’s a fine line between being humble and putting yourself down. And societal standards can be confusing. Be confident, but don’t be arrogant. Be strong and independent, but not so much that you intimidate people. Stand your ground, but be accommodating. It’s difficult to find that balance because it’s a mental exercise of weighing yourself. There’s no solid definition of where the line is. And unfortunately, I haven’t been very successful at determining where the line is as I set very high bars for myself, causing me to overcompensate in trying to remain modest; and recently, I’ve been beginning to wonder if I’ve been doing more harm to myself than good.

And so, while Jaehyun makes a good point and while I have enough confidence in myself to know that I’m good at what I do and have done rather well for myself, I have tried to remain humble at the detriment of my overall self-worth.

“Hey, Jae!” I call from his bathroom as I swipe my cheeks with a link pink blush.

“Yes, love?”

“Do you want to take a walk after dinner?”

“Yeah, I was thinking we could walk along the river nearby.”

Jaehyun and I are rather private people. We’ve had to be for the sake of our relationship. Oftentimes, when we go out to dinner, we choose to go to upscale restaurants and reserve private tables in the back. It sounds pretentious, but we do it for the privacy. It’s better if no one sees us together.

And truth be told, there’s something so thrilling about having to keep our relationship relatively secret. The excitement of possibly getting caught gives me this rush – not to say I purposely put us into compromising situations, because I don’t. But having this secret that I get to keep because I know it’s just for me, gives me more of a high than I’d like to admit.

Tonight, we’re at one of our favorite downtown restaurants, seated in the corner, white-clothed and candlelit table providing a cozy and romantic atmosphere to contrast the chilly spring evening. He looks handsome and sophisticated in his standard black suit and tie with loafers; it’s a look that I’ll never tire from. I’ve chosen to match with a fitted mahogany red turtleneck, black leggings, knee-high boots, and all the gold accessories to match. We admire it now as we know it’ll all end up on the floor in a hasty attempt to undress later.

As per usual, he’s decided to order filet mignon and I’ve opted for grilled salmon with a white cranberry sauce.

I prop my chin up on my fists and smile at him. “So,” I begin, “why did you decide to make the leap?”

“What leap?”

“To go out with me.”

Shortly after I had asked Jaehyun out, a pandemic had broken out, causing most of the world to shut down. He hadn’t given me an answer yet and because of the circumstances, we couldn’t contact each other.

“When we were on lockdown, I had a lot of time to think,” he says. “I realized that life is too short to not do the things we want to do or to tell people how we feel.”

He reaches for both of my hands and cradles them in his, gently kissing my fingers, allowing his mouth to linger on them for a moment more.

“We’re not promised tomorrow.”

I start to laugh and he looks at me, baffled and slightly offended that I didn’t take his tender words to heart.

“What?!” he exclaims, on the edge of laughter. “I was being serious!”

“I know!” My giggling continues. “But it took a pandemic to occur for you to realize that?!”

He looks down at the table, a slight twinge of red in his cheeks.

“No…” he says, clearly embarrassed. “It’s just I –”

He’s at a loss for words, fiddling with my fingers in his hand as he stares at the table, completely dumbfounded. He sighs.

“It was a sort of a split second decision. I thought about it for a while and then I woke up one morning and said, ‘Forget it, I’m gonna go out with her.’”

“Well, I applaud your bravery,” I say with a smirk. “And I’m very grateful for it.” I raise his hand to kiss it. “I wouldn’t have fallen in love with such a wonderful man if you hadn’t.”

“For the record, you’re a lot different than I imagined you to be.”

“Oh?” I raise an eyebrow. “How so?”

He shrugs. “I mean, I knew you – like… knew who you were, but didn’t know you.” He purses his lips and hums. “I knew you were nice and smart and beautiful, but –”

“But what?” I interject with a cunning smile. “You thought I shopped at Saks Fifth and ate caviar for breakfast?”

“No! Of course not!” He looks at me, horrified that I would suggest such a thing, like he couldn’t imagine ever disrespecting me like that. It’s endearing.

I look down at the table and smile. “I don’t even like caviar,” I mumble.

He chuckles. “No, I – I guess I was surprised at how low-key you are.” He pauses, searching for the right words. “Like – you have the look.”

“What look?”

“I – you do realize that you’re quite intimidating, right?”

I frown. “No?”

“You are very attractive,” he states simply. “And you dress very well and carry yourself in a very… sophisticated manner. I don’t know, when you first walked in, I thought you’d be a bit more privileged… going to art museums and eating at expensive restaurants… being a bit more outspoken.”

My jaw drops with an exaggerated gasp. “So you did think I ate caviar for breakfast!” I tease.

“All right, maybe the very first time you walked in,” he admits. “But after speaking to you, no.”

I shake my head in mocked disappointment as our orders are placed in front of us. The previous topic, though creating immense curiosity, was left forgotten.

“Do you miss college?” Jaehyun asks as he places several slices of his filet mignon onto my plate.

“No, not at all.”

“I guess I better not ask you to write a favorable review,” he quips.

I chuckle. “Let’s put it this way, I was grateful for the opportunity I had, but it wasn’t the greatest experience I’ve ever had.” Sighing, I follow with, “I wasn’t happy most of the time.”

A look of concern washes over his face. “Why not?”

“My first year was really hard… Classes were difficult and I had trouble making friends because I was never really in the mood to be around people. Most of the people I did meet weren’t what I was looking for. It was difficult to talk to them.”

“Did it ever get better?”

I smile.

Mark.

Mark made it better.

“Yes.” I nod slowly. “But it didn’t last for very long.”

Prev | Next

Before I Met You Masterlist Masterlist

#NCT #nct 127 #nct u #wayv #jung jaehyun #nct jaehyun #nct fluff #nct angst #nct x reader #nct lucas #lucas wong #before i met you #wong yukhei #nct mark #mark lee

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komaeda-nagayto · 5 years ago

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Komahina Week Day 5

Prompt: Healing

Rating: T

A continuation of yesterday’s Talentswap AU (here)

AO3 Link

@komahinaisle

-----

When Hajime woke from the simulation, the first thing he saw was Nagito Komaeda’s face. One eye the grey-green he’d come to admire, the other the red of Kamukura.

Kamukura… that was right. Izuru Kamukura, the Ultimate Hope. Who had every talent.

And then the memories hit him. Everything that had happened the last few years, the Tragedy, Despair, Servant…

“Uh…” Hajime said, unsure how to address Nagito. Or was it Kamukura? Going by his eyes, it was likely both. “Komaeda-kun?” Nagito nodded, holding out his hand to help Hajime sit up.

“I suppose you have questions,” Nagito said, his eyes darting to the stump of Hajime’s left arm. Oh, that was right. He shuddered slightly at the thought of what he had done. He really had lost his mind while in Despair, hadn’t he?

“Souda and I have created a new hand for you,” Nagito said, “I… didn’t think you’d want her anymore. I know how you feel about Despair and Hope.”

“Thank you,” Hajime said quietly, looking around at the pods around him. They were all empty. He was the only one left, it seemed. “Um. So you are Komaeda, right? Or are you both? What about the rest?”

“There’s no trace of Despair in any of us,” Nagito said, knowing that was the most important matter to Hajime. It had been the most important matter to him. Hajime nodded, still studying Nagito’s face carefully.

Nothing more was able to be said before Mikan came in to the room with a wheelchair.

“Ah, what’s this?” Hajime asked.

“The others found they had difficulties getting used to their bodies based on their deaths in the simulation. Considering everything your body believes you faced, I doubt you’ll be able to walk for a while. I asked Tsumiki to be prepared for when you woke,” Nagito said, slipping into the Kamukura skin. It was easier to say it that way, clinical, detached, than think about Hajime’s impaled body, the cuts on his arm, the…

He abruptly turned away and looked at the monitor next to Hajime’s pod.

“Your signs are all great. We can detach you from the machine now, and we’ll move you into a room. You’ll need physical therapy to help heal, but Tsumiki and I will put a plan together with you. For now, a comfortable bed and some food and water would be more than welcome for you, I’m sure.” Nagito finished speaking and turned back to Hajime, forcing a small smile on his face. Hajime nodded.

“That – that sounds really good,” Hajime said.

Nagito helped Hajime into the wheelchair, who found that he really could not move his legs, just as Nagito had suspected. He winced in pain as he was moved, but soon enough, he was in a small hospital room, not far from where the Neo World Program had been.

Once Hajime had been set up in the bed, Mikan came in with some soup that Teruteru had prepared.

“Your body hasn’t eaten in a while. The Neo World Program was good at keeping you alive with what you needed, but your stomach won’t be used to food, so take it easy, okay?” Nagito said. Hajime nodded, hesitating before slowly sipping at his soup.

It would take some time, but Nagito had no doubt that Hajime would be up and about with time.

Hajime stared at the silver hand attached to his left arms, turning it around to admire it from all angles. Kazuichi and Nagito had done a brilliant job, but what more could he expect from two such talented people?

He glanced over at Nagito, who was writing notes down on a clipboard.

“This is amazing!” Hajime exclaimed, stretching the fingers out before clenching into a fist, “It’s just like a real hand!”

“I’m glad it’s up to your standard,” Nagito said, looking up from the clipboard. He couldn’t help but smile at the way Hajime seemed fascinated by it.

“More than that! This is amazing! I can’t believe you and Souda wasted your talents on me!” Hajime said. Nagito sighed.

“It’s not a waste to help a friend,” he said.

“Are we?” Hajime questioned, finally dropping his hand to his side. He suddenly couldn’t look at Nagito.

“Hinata?” Nagito questioned.

“Are we friends? After everything I did?” Hajime asked, his voice barely more than a whisper. Nagito placed the clipboard on the side table and sat down on the chair next to Hajime’s bed. After a moment of consideration, he took Hajime’s right hand in his.

“Yes. Remember when I asked the same thing? You told me that we were friends, and that I wasn’t nothing, even though I was just a talentless Reserve student. Well, now it’s my turn. You’re my friend, and you’re not nothing to me.” Nagito spoke softly. Hajime met Nagito’s eyes, his eyes rimmed red, a few tears sitting on his cheeks.

“Thank you,” Hajime choked out, “I – I needed to hear that.” Nagito nodded, squeezing Hajime’s hand softly before he stood up. Back to business, discussing recovery.

Nagito kept a hold of Hajime as they walked along, Hajime holding the bars to help support himself. It had been a month since Hajime had first woken up, and he had been responding well to the physical therapy. A lot of the pain Hajime had felt was gone, but it was taking a bit longer for him to be stable on his legs.

They reached the end of the walkway, and Hajime sat down, smiling up at Nagito.

“Thank you for all of your help. I don’t think I’d be doing so well if it wasn’t for you,” Hajime said.

“I’m sure you’d find a way,” Nagito said, “You’re very determined.” Hajime simply hummed in response. Nagito ignored the impulse to bend down and kiss him.

He knew that they were in the awkward position of not quite romantic, but moving there. He didn’t need Kamukura to tell him that Hajime was interested in him, and Nagito had long fallen for the brunette, sometime during the simulation.

They were teetering on the edge of something, and Nagito had no idea what the tipping point would be.

“I’m going again,” Hajime said, “And this time I want to do it myself.” Nagito bit down on his lip.

“Are you sure?” Nagito asked. Hajime nodded, reaching out towards the bars and standing himself up.

“I have hope,” he said, meeting Nagito’s eyes. Nagito nodded, helpless but to agree, especially with the argument of hope. He would walk alongside Hajime, anyway, just in case.

Hajime starting to walk along, both hands gripping on to the bars. He had a very determined glint in his eye, and every step was made with purpose. At one point, his legs wobbled a little, and Nagito threw his hands out, ready to catch Hajime, but he managed to rebalance himself and keep moving.

He reached the end, and locked eyes with Nagito with a grin.

“I did it!” Hajime exclaimed before launching himself at Nagito, wrapping his arms around Nagito’s neck and pressing their lips together. His legs started to buckle, but Nagito managed to grip Hajime tight and keep him up as the kiss deepened.

They stayed like that for a moment, holding each other as they kissed hungrily, before Nagito moved them over to the couch, breaking the kiss momentarily to help Hajime sit. Hajime immediately pulled Nagito in to kiss again as soon as Nagito sat next to him. Nagito wrapped his arms around Hajime once more, holding him close, while Hajime wound a hand into Nagito’s hair.

They made our for quite a while, Nagito finding himself lying on top of Hajime, running his hands along his shoulders and down the side of his arms.

When they finally broke apart, they were both panting.

Immediately realising they were still in the physical therapy room, Nagito sat up. Hajime slowly sat up, looking dazed.

“That – that was -” Hajime shook his head, seemingly at a loss for words.

“Not unexpected,” Nagito said, “But very welcome. Though, perhaps not in the middle of your physical therapy session.”

“I got, uh, lost in the moment,” Hajime said sheepishly, scratching the back of his neck. Nagito giggled.

“You could say that,” he said, before glancing around the room, “Well, I think you’ve made good progress, so we’ll call an early end to your session.”

“Oh,” Hajime said, disappointment colouring his tone.

“And then, we both have free time. Maybe I’ll drop by the room of the guy I like. He’s quite a good kisser,” Nagito said. Hajime blushed, and Nagito winked.

“Uh… yeah. Th-that sounds nice,” Hajime said.

“Come on, I’ll help you into your wheelchair,” Nagito said. He helped Hajime stand up, and they made their way over to the wheelchair and then to Hajime’s room, and the immediate plans of a lot of kissing.

#komahinaweek2020 #komahina #my fic #my fics #danganronpa #sdr2 #nagito komaeda #hajime hinata

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besidemethewholedamntime · 5 years ago

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only the moon shall know ~ ch. 3

Finally the ending that I’ve been waiting to post and now I can!! I hope you enjoy!

Summary:

"She looks up then, because that tone is one of pure relief, and her sore, swollen eyes meet those endless ones that belong to Fitz. She wishes she could be happy he is here, but instead it all comes rushing over her again and she bursts into tears."

The finale which contains, as promised, the happy ending.

{Read on Ao3}

or read below!

Hunter drives her back to his home without a word and as soon as he pulls up in front of the house she gets out the car, stifling a sob, and runs to the gardens and finds a bench, the bench she always sits at when she visits here, and cries and cries until her stomach hurts and she’s not sure she’ll ever catch her breath again.

She stays there for hours, curled up with her head on her knees and her arms wrapped around herself. It replays over and over again in her mind, that horrible moment, that horrible feeling, where she knew, she just knew, what Fitz was going to say. That look in his eyes of utter regret, of utter pain, and she wishes she could hate him for it because it would be so much cleaner. Anger would let her stand up and walk into the house. Anger would let her go home. Anger would let him go.

But she isn’t angry, as much as she wishes she could be. She’s just incredibly sad, and lonely, and with this public rejection she feels even more cut off from this society she inhibits. Alone and adrift and completely unsure of herself. What to do? She has no idea, so she just cries, figuring that she is allowed this for now.

She stays there for goodness knows how long, until her tears have all dried up but she cannot move for then it becomes real. As soon as she goes inside she has to deal with Hunter, his mother – who will no doubt chastise her for her completely unreasonable behaviour – and everybody else who was there. She will have to go home, back to her lovely estate with Lucy and her books and the gardener who was helping her with science. She will have to deal with her newfound wealth, mourn properly for a great aunt she has never met, and deal with all of those things she hasn’t dealt with because she so dearly wanted to save Fitz.

“Jemma?”

That voice surely must be in her head. She’s been doubled over so long she’s imagining things. It must be. There’s no way it’s him.

“Jemma? Are you here?”

So, whoever it is hasn’t turned the corner and found her on the bench next to the rosebush. There’s still a very good chance this is all in her head.

“Jemma. Thank God. There you are.”

She looks up then, because that tone is one of pure relief, and her sore, swollen eyes meet those endless ones that belong to Fitz. She wishes she could be happy he is here, but instead it all comes rushing over her again and she bursts into tears.

“Oh, Jemma. No, don’t cry.” He’s by her side in a second, and she feels his hand ghost over her shoulder but she twists it away.

“Please, Fitz. I don’t need your pity. Just go away.”

“I would never dare pity you,” he says, with a slight humourless chuckle. “I’m here to apologise.”

“You can save it,” she spits. “I don’t want it. It’s done. It’s all done.”

“No, actually. It’s not.”

His tone is different and while she doesn’t look at him, she looks at the hand that’s very close to hers on the wooden bench. There is a glaring absence on a certain finger. She can’t believe it.

“You didn’t get married,” she states dumbly.

“No. I didn’t.”

“I can’t believe you, Fitz!” There’s a delicious anger in the pit of her stomach and she grabs onto it, fans the flames to keep them burning. “You ended up not getting married anyway. Why did you do that? Why didn’t you decide when I was there? Instead you let me humiliate myself in front of everybody we’ve ever known.”

“I know,” he tells her, his voice carrying a quiet conviction of its own. “I know and I’m sorry. I’m just so bloody sorry, Jemma.”

She feels her bottom lip begin to tremble and she hates herself for it but every cell in her body strains towards him. “Why now? Why did you decide now?”

He rubs the back of his neck. “Hunter dragged me outside after he brought you here. Looked like he wanted to punch me. Told me that there was no hope if I wouldn’t even listen to you.”

“But you listened to him it looks like.”

“No, Jemma. I didn’t.” He takes her hands in his and she lets him, intrigued by his tone. He takes a deep breath. “I was standing there at the altar, waiting for Cecelia to come in, and I heard your voice in my head. You were right. You’ve always been right. Nobody wanted me to do this, and I didn’t want to do this.”

“You knew that months ago,” she says, unwilling to let him off that easy.

“But now I know. I understand. I don’t want anybody else. I only want you.”

It’s the words she’s longed to hear ever since she met him, she thinks, for even then they were placed in her subconscious.

“But what of your family?” She asks, knowing she has the solution and realising that he doesn’t. “Your house? You would despise me if you gave them all up for me, Fitz. Perhaps not now, or not in a year, but in ten years maybe, you would look at me only you wouldn’t see me. You would see everything you gave up.”

He tilts his head to the side and smiles that impossibly soft smile that makes her feel as though she could turn molten right now. “Jemma,” he begins, and his voice is impossible soft, too. “I could never despise you.”

“But you might, though,” she protests, though it’s half-hearted.

“No.” His voice is not emphatic, but it’s firm, and it’s enough to dispel any doubt. “I could never.”

It’s the assurance she needs and she sighs and says, “You don’t need to worry about your family.”

“I’ll try not to. I’ll try find some other way to get the money. I’ll meet with the lawyers for-”

“No, Fitz,” she interrupts, unable to stop herself from smiling. “You don’t need to find some other way to get the money. I have it now.”

She explains about the inheritance from a great aunt she has never met, indeed never even heard of. She explains how it was all quite a surprise, and a bit too coincidental for her to believe it’s entirely real.

“But it is!” She exclaims, unable to keep the glee out of her voice. “It’s real, and you may have it. You may have all of it.”

His face crumples and he says, “I love you, so much, but no. I can’t take your money.”

“What?!” She winces, for she didn’t mean to shout quite so loud. “If this is about taking money from a woman, Fitz, I swear to God, I will-”

“No, please.” He shakes his head. “It’s nothing like that. I just can’t let you do it. I can’t let you waste your family money, your own inheritance, on my mistakes.”

It’s her own argument, slightly twisted, and thrown back at her, and she cannot condemn him for it, but she doesn’t have to accept it.

“I wish you would stop blaming yourself for things that aren’t your own fault.” She takes his other hand in hers. “They are your father’s mistakes. His and his alone. I love you and I want to help you. Let me.”

“Jemma…”

“No,” she says emphatically. “No, you don’t get to tell me no. Not a third time. You don’t get to disappoint me again and keep me on the edge. If you don’t want me then say it now and I’ll go, with no reproach, and you and I can remain friends, if you like, or we can become strangers. The choice will be yours. But if you want me, Fitz, if you love me as you say you do then show me. Show me that you love me.”

Still holding hands, she brings them closer to her. “I don’t want to buy your home, nor make it mine. I want to make it ours. I want to make a life with you.” She looks into his face and notices how he holds her eyes, when every other time he has looked away. “What do you say?”

Fitz always has answers, this she has learned in the year since she has known him. He has such a way with words, stuttered or as fragmented as they may be. It is him she would have pegged as being the one to deliver the grand romantic speech, the one to rival all the poets and writers. While hers is not book-worthy, that she freely admits, it’s a damn lot more than he has said. For the first time she feels equal and she knows that she will allow nothing to bring her down.

Fitz brings Jemma’s hands closer to his heart and they are so close now that if her aunt comes into the garden she’ll faint clean away. Jemma finds it would be very hard for her to care, not when she’s finally living in the moment she thought she would only have in her dreams.

“Lady Jemma Simmons,” he begins, unable to help his smile. “Will you marry me?”

“Now I want you to be sure,” she says, a touch mischievously. “This will be your third marriage proposal in as many months.”

Fitz looks affronted for half a second but then he grins and shrugs. “Third time lucky?”

Her heart feels so full it could burst. “I suppose we’ll take the chance. I will marry you, Lord Leopold Fitz. I would have done so months ago.”

He huffs good-naturedly. “Well I clearly wasn’t as caught up as you were, but don’t worry. I’m quite there now.”

It’s quite improper for them to kiss, when the engagement isn’t even official by society standards, but then again neither was crashing the wedding. They are never going to be official, proper people, and Jemma rather likes it that way.

Just before though, when their foreheads are touching and she can feel his warm breath on her face, she says, “We’ll be happy, won’t we? Duty and all that be dammed. We won’t worry about it anymore?”

“We’ll never worry about it again,” he assures her. “It’s you and me. Forever. Nothing else matters except that.”

It’s the promise she needed, the assurance that, despite his proposal, she knows she couldn’t have gone without. So she kisses Fitz and she enjoys it, knowing that this time she doesn’t have to savour the time they have together while she waits for it to end. She is his and he is hers and now, finally, this is the way it shall stay. Until death do them part, and then long after.

#aosficnet2 #earth vs space #team earth aos #fitzsimmons #aos #fanfic by moi #it's finished!#i'm kinda sad #but also happy!#i hope you like it!

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dragonrajafanfiction · 4 years ago

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Dragon Dancer Chapter 29: Jackpot

“He makes the girls here gamble with their hearts. Never rejecting them, out of politeness. But what he’s really doing is keeping them coming back to the table, time and again.”

“They’re hoping that maybe this time they’ll hit the jackpot and he’ll understand their feelings. Despite the low odds that he ever will.”

-- Caesar Gattuso, Target Practice

Master List

I listened to the phone ring. It was mid-afternoon, Johann had a project he was tending to so this was free time for me.

Mingfei was resting and recuperating at home, but he still invited me over for a long awaited chat.

“I have a lot to tell you. Not all of it will be fun. But, to be able to share it with you… I’m looking forward it.”

The message got me thinking very seriously about my idea of creating a club just for us. Club S stuck in my mind. So I’d inquired of EVA.

Fifty thousand dollars… just to start it. And that didn’t count for the supplies I would need, the logo design, the marketing and promotional videos.

Someone picked up. “This is Comemnus Corp, how may I direct your call?”

“My name is Charlotte Ouroboros Comemnus. I’m looking for Lukas. Is he available?”

“And …” The secretary halted, clearly unaware that Lukas had a semi-adopted sister. “Please hold for a moment.”

I settled in my chair, listening to the hold music. I hadn’t spoken to him for a long time. I hoped he was alright. He hadn’t joined me at Cassell, instead focusing on rebuilding his family business.

He picked up. “Charlotte? Wow. I … didn’t expect to hear from you again.”

“I hope now’s not a bad time.”

“No, its not. What is it?”

“Well… if you’re not busy. How are you doing?”

He gave a little laugh. “I’m always busy. But never too busy for you. Are you really just calling to ask me how I am?”

“I know it’s been a while, and I’m sorry. I’ve just been trying to catch up with school. I haven’t had time or energy to contact anyone. You’re not alone. How are the kids?”

Lukas had taken it upon himself to care for the orphans rescued from the clutches of the Hydras. “They’re alright, in secure areas under assumed names. They’re each placed with families who can care for them and make them grow up well adjusted. You did it Carli. Good job.”

I felt the heat rising in my face. “I just… wish I could have done more.”

“We all do, but in the end, you did so much.”

“How’s Tobias?”

“He’s fine. At school.”

“I… also have a favor to ask you. I’m sorry to ask this after such a long absence but… the money, from the sale… do you still have it?”

A slight silence met my question. “Yes. To be honest, I… haven’t touched it.”

“Is it possible to… um… get some of that. I have a personal project I want to undertake. It will help me to adjust to my life here.”

“You can have all of it. Carli, as far as I’m concerned… that’s your money.”

“Wow.... Thank you Lukas. It’s a real comfort not to have to worry about money any more.”

“You’ve been through a lot. How do you want it?”

“Uh… My only bank account is an online one and…”

He started laughing. “Oh that’s right. The rich have their own banking system. I’ll transfer you the details of the account, I’ll set it up for you. I just need a phone number. Can I use this one?”

“Yes!” I blushed. “It really is a lot of money… how long will it take to post?”

“Aaaah… we don’t have restrictions like that. You should be able to access the funds immediately.”

“That’s so crazy.”

“Okay, you should be getting a text in a f... “ He suddenly sighed. “I have to go.”

“Okay… Nice talking to you.”

The line cut. As promised soon, I had a bank account worth five hundred million dollars. I sat on the bed, staring at the number. And then I got another text, from EVA.

“Principal Anjou would like to see you.”

When I arrived, he gestured for me to sit.

“My dear… how are you feeling?” He asked.

“Much better. I’m still on the uh… medication but… they will start tapering me next week.”

He gave a slow sigh. “I’ve been quite hard on you. And for that, I apologize.”

It was unexpected. I tamped down my emotions, chewing my lip, but I couldn’t speak or my voice would crack. I just nodded.

“You displayed such great promise, and worked so hard, I briefly forgot how young you were. I pushed you, beyond your limits. And now you’re suffering for it.”

He reached down into his desk and pulled out a leather folder embossed with the Cassell logo. “Therefore, with the agreement of Schneider, Manstein and Guderian, I present to you your approval to move on next semester. Your need to take the final exam has been waived.”

I gasped and whispered, “Thank you.”

“Unless it’s an absolute emergency, you will not be asked to go on any more missions. I hope you use this time to…” He pushed forward a box of tissues. “Recover from your ordeals.”

I accepted the tissues and dabbed at my eyes.

“Is there anything more I can do for you, my dear?”

“Yes… I want to start my own club. I have enough money to… invest.”

“You do?” His eyes widened.

I nodded and he smiled.

“Well then!” Much to my surprise, he didn’t ask any questions. “I’ll start the process right away. EVA!”

“Uh… Mr. Anjou, the requirement is not only funds but members. We have to have at least twelve names to open up a club account.”

My shoulders fell in disappointment. “Oh…”

“Oh pishtosh,” He dismissed it. “Am I not principal?! And is she not still Star of Cassell? The requirement is waved. What’s the name of your club?” He asked me.

“Club S.”

He chuckled. “Ah… I can already see where this is going. Who are the members?”

“Just me so far. But I’m hoping to recruit more.”

“As a sign of solidarity, set me down on the roster… though… secretly.”

“Sir,” EVA objected, “Anjou, you may be accused of favoritism.”

“And how is that new? I am also an S-rank.”

“EVA is right. I must decline your application.” I lowered my eyes to my hands.

He pressed his hands to his chest. “First Caesar and now me… you have higher standards than the Jade Emperor.” He took it in stride. “You can count on my support.”

I let out a breath. “Thank you sir.”

He chuckled merrily. “Finally, we have someone to rival Lionheart and the Student Union!”

“I’m not interested in politics.”

“But surely you understand…” He opened the wooden case of cigars. “...Day of Liberty will open the new semester next year. Last year, Lu Mingfei defeated Johann Chu and Caesar for the year’s use of Norton Hall, but he never had the funds to use it. Now, you arrive and you think they won’t be looking to take you out? Lu Mingfei tried to hide, but in the end, he was drawn in.”

He lit his cigar with his gold dragon lighter. “You do not have the element of surprise on your side my dear. Everyone is waiting for you to make your move. Creating this club… will draw attention.”

“Very well then… I will have to move quickly…” I could feel myself smirking despite myself.

He puffed his cigar, eyeing me with silent approval. “Well, go on…”

I stood up and bowed. EVA looked concerned. She spoke up. “You realize he enjoys this.”

“I kind of got that…”

He leaned against his desk, his cigar between his fingers, unphased by our cynicism. “I saw you dance. I’ve seen your work. Every time I think of you, I’m reminded of my friend Manecke… It’s hard to imagine him without ambition.”

“I’ve set you free from obligation in order to rest… and yet this is what you do? You never disappoint me.” He held out my diploma for the semester and I accepted it.

“Thank you sir.”

“You’re free to pursue whatever you wish from now on at the College. Though you still must maintain academics, your major will be up to you.”

“May I continue to major in dance, sir?” I asked.

“Absolutely. You could volunteer for ground maintenance… whatever is your choice. Whatever keeps you happy.”

I decided to carefully hide the leather case under my arm and hurry home to conceal it. I didn’t want Johann to know that I had graduated. He’d worked hard to help me take the test. I didn’t know how he’d react to know that it suddenly wasn’t going to happen.

I spent the rest of my break working on choreography for Daily Growing. Even though the song had a somber ending and beginning, hope and happiness grew in the middle. I used pantomime for the words ‘love’ and ‘marry’, and used gestures to convey the idea of someone growing taller, all while on point.

Johann found me there. “Looks good so far…”

I lowered myself from my pointe, keeping my back straight and in first position. “Thanks.”

“Someone told me you left the principal’s office in a hurry. Everything alright?”

I rolled my eyes. “Oh my god. Does anything I do go unnoticed?”

“No.”

I sighed. I couldn’t hide this from him. “Anjou decided I’d had enough. He went ahead and passed me for the year. So… no test.”

“Oh…” The unexpected news caused a range of emotions to go through his eyes. He looked away to sort them out. None of them were happy. “Oh… did you… still want to train together?”

“Yes! I was worried you wouldn’t want to!” I laughed. “We can dial it back a bit since we’re no longer up against a deadline though. You can focus on yourself and your club.”

He let out a puff of air. “I’m fine.”

“You just got off suspension and you’re not behind at all? Come on…” I crossed my arms over my chest. “Why don’t you take the day off?” My expression sobered a bit. “Mingfei and I are going to hang out… quality time. We need to talk.”

“I understand.” He was lingering and the longer he hesitated, the more it became clear that ‘free time’ was not something Johann Chu did. He’d put his entire schedule out of sorts for me and now that our training time had suddenly been removed he had nothing to do?

“Was there something… you wanted to do for training today?”

“Not in particular…” He shrugged and shook his head and looked away, turning to go.

He was looking forward to it. That was it. He was disappointed. He just couldn’t say it. “Well, let’s pretend for now that nothing’s changed. Alright?”

“It’s fine.” He’d resigned himself. Poor guy was going to sulk in a corner, drown himself in beer at a bar. I couldn’t stand it.

I took a deep breath and let it out. I licked my lips. “I was afraid to tell you… I know you really looked forward to seeing me take the exam. Anjou had to go and steal your thunder.”

He paused at the door. He didn’t deny it.

I took another breath. “You’ll get another opportunity. If I can get Mingfei to join my club.” I chewed my lip.

Jackpot. He turned to look at me. “Your club?”

My heart was racing. “Yeah. I started my own club.”

“How?”

“Money?” I smiled and laughed. I bounced on my toes. “Remember what I told you in the car? About what happened? I got the money… from the sale.”

“Oh.” His eyes squinted in a way that made me shiver with joy. “Unexpected.”

“Yeah so… I’m going to try to recruit Mingfei.”

He nodded. His mind was working behind those golden eyes. He was starting to smile just a little. I could hardly hear him speak over my own pulse. “You do that… I’ll take care of things on my end.” With a new goal in sight, he left me alone.

After I was sure he was gone, I walked over to lean against the barre. I covered my mouth with my hand. Even though he’d done all these things for me before, having his support now felt like winning the lottery.

#Johann Chu #Lu Mingfei #Dragon Raja #Fanfiction #writing

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ehstarwar · 5 years ago

Text

under thy own life’s key (2/7)

Maybe the A/C wasn’t as useful down in the dungeon as the rest of the house. Maybe the flannel bed sheets were a little much. Maybe she was actually back in Jakku and the last eight years had all been a fever dream.

Or her best friend/bed buddy was a cuddler. A Big Time Cuddler.

Rey and Ben's sleeping arrangements lead to some interesting mornings. And even more interesting nights.

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 3.5K

Read on AO3

Notes: i wrote this while watching TRoS and as soon as started the ~fun~ part, Ben and Han had their moment and i felt like i was debauching him in front of his dad. i've probs done worse tho, so, enjoy!

Chapter 2: relieves the weary laborer and heals hurt minds

Chandrila is notoriously hot, or so the online articles Rey skimmed said it was. She felt confident that her upbringing in a desert would be sufficient preparation for the oncoming heat. Something that Coruscant blessedly didn’t endure too long of. Rey knew that suckers like Hux and Kaydel would have a hard time adjusting, but would eventually realize the benefits of said heat. (Well… Kaydel would.)

When booking the trip, Poe had assured the group that the cabin they would be staying had a well function air conditioning that his fiancé insisted upon. Rey may not have been the closest with Hux, but she knew enough of him to know he wouldn’t have spent money on a place without everything being up to his standards.

So when Rey woke up Monday morning in, what felt like, a blistering inferno, she was a little shocked. Maybe the A/C wasn’t as useful down in the dungeon as the rest of the house. Maybe the flannel bed sheets were a little much. Maybe she was actually back in Jakku and the last eight years had all been a fever dream.

Or her best friend/bed buddy was a cuddler. A Big Time Cuddler.

Ben’s arms were holding onto Rey, encasing her torso and clutching her to him. His tree-trunk legs were tangled with hers, one shoved between her legs making her core rest on his thigh. Ben’s face was resting against the back of her head so that she could feel his warm breath on the top of her neck. His chest rose and fell in time with his breath and Rey couldn’t help but marvel at the solidity against her, at how different it felt beneath her back than it had under her hands.

When she realizes the source of the heat, Rey suddenly doesn’t mind it so much. It becomes a comfort, like wrapping up in your favorite blanket when its fresh out of the dryer. She can’t help but think of the winter, when she’s cold and buried under blankets that still provide no heat, and how nice it would feel if Ben was there. Solid and warm and wonderful. How she could just turn around and nuzzle into his embrace and press her lips to-

And then Rey really wakes up.

She slowly extracts herself from his embrace, moving gently so as not to disturb her sleeping giant. She ignores the painful stab in her gut, willing herself to not feel as if moving from his arms was like cutting off a limb. Trying not to think thoughts that are decidedly un-best friendly.

Rey makes it out of the bed and into the bathroom, checking behind her to make sure Ben is still sound asleep as she shuts the door. Part of her wants to take a cold shower, blame it on the July heat, but Ben would know. He always just knows.

She resigns herself to splashing cold water on her face and brushing her teeth. The sound of footsteps above her tell her that her other friends are up and already starting with the festivities.

That’s why she’s here. To celebrate her friends upcoming nuptials. Not to sleeping the same bed as Ben. Its just an (un)fortunate side effect.

Rey adjust her sleep shirt and shorts before creeping out the bathroom and up the stair, leaving Ben still sleeping in their bunk. When she reaches the top of the stairs, she’s greeted with a platinum-blonde blur quickly setting up what looks like a mimosa table.

“Oh, Phasma. I didn’t know you were staying here,” Rey says, hoping to catch her attention. Phasma pays her no mind as she responds, not breaking for a moment.

“I’m not. I rented a cabin down the hill for myself.” How very Phasma of Phasma. “Armitage wouldn’t let me hear the end of it if I didn’t show, and this cabin is like one giant splinter waiting to stab itself into an unsuspecting guest. My place is a bit more… modern.”

While Rey and Phasma weren’t the best of friends, Rey found comfort in Phasma’s unyielding ability to be herself. She admired her really, and told her so at more than one social engagements. It’s always met with a slight huff and an excuse to go refill her drink, but Rey knows that it makes Phasma like here. Well, maybe not like, but just not hold her in complete contempt.

“That’s… very wise of you,” Rey says. The little noise of acceptance and slight nod is as close as Phasma will ever get to smiling, so, Rey will take it. “Is that a mimosa bar?” Rey asks.

“And Bloody Mary bar. I wanted to give some options for the bachelors,” Phasma explained.

“Any breakfast?” Rey asks, hopeful. Phasma sends her a sharp look.

“Yes; Mimosas and Bloody Mary’s.”

“Ah.” Rey tries not to look disappointed. She had hoped of waking up to a large stack of waffles drenched in locally sourced syrup, but that wasn’t really Phasma’s style.

To be fair, there were many things Rey expected to be different that what she actually woke up to, but that was neither here nor there.

Rey hears the squeak of the door hinges behind her, and snaps her head around to see a disheveled Ben appearing from the stairwell. His hair was a perfectly tousled mess and she longed to run her hands through it. Maybe even kiss the sleepiness out of his lips.

“Gwen,” Ben says to acknowledge Phasma. Her eyes flit over Ben and Rey, and if she notices that they came from the same place, she keeps it to herself.

“Benjamin, why aren’t you wearing the pajamas I got you for your 30th birthday?” Phasma asks, not once breaking stride in setting up the table.

“I brought them. I just didn’t have the energy to change into a pantsuit last night.” Ben moves into the kitchen, brushing past Rey to get there. His hands gently bumps her arm, right where it was draped over, just a few minutes ago. “I’m assuming you want pancakes?” He shouts back and Rey knows its meant for her. She’s pretty sure Phasma doesn’t eat solid foods that don’t come from a restaurant Rey would have to save for a month to afford.

“Or waffles?” She asks, once again hopeful.

“No waffle maker.”

“Pancakes are fine.” She hopes she doesn’t sound ungrateful. She wants to point out that Ben hasn’t looked for a waffle maker so he can’t possibly know that there isn’t one, but Rey has learned not to bite the hand that feeds her.

Literally.

An hour later, the rest of the house has woken up and wandered down to the kitchen. They’ve already gone through two bottles of champaign, (‘Chump change!’ Poe had shouted when he woke up and demanded another bottle be popped.) and questions of what to do were being tossed around.

“I have a loosely structured agenda that we should all follow for this week,” Hux announces at the table, causing everyone to look at him in confusion.

“Loosely-structured?” Ben repeats.

“In an effort to be more… chill,” Hux abandons his glare at Ben to nod towards Poe, “I’ve decided to allow for a more clandestine trip. While I have ideas on how each minute should be spent, I’ve learned that doesn’t make for the most delightful of guest.”

“Sooooo, Armie has decided to let us collectively choose what we do for the day. Isn’t that so nice of him?” Poe pointedly looks at the rest of the table. Murmurs in agreement flutter around.

“Except for Wednesday,” Hux pipes up. “We’re scheduled to got to one of those tree-top jungle gym things. They have a zip line.” This earns some more enthusiastic hoots from the group. “For today I figured we could just enjoy the lake at the bottom of the hill. We have a private path to get down there.”

The only time Rey could recall her friends moving as quickly as they did on hearing the word ‘lake’ is when Maz first announced her Three-Dollar-Margarita special. Within moments, Finn, Rose, Kaydel, Jannah had all vanished from the table, no doubt putting on their swim suits. Zorii sat beside Rey, giving a yawn that would rival a bears.

“I’m gonna go sleep for a few hours. I’ll come down later.” She saunters up, heading back up the stairs.

“Too old to be hanging out with the cool kids, Zor?” Poe calls after her.

“Nah. Someones gotta stay sober long enough to make sure you fools don’t get eaten by Freddy Krueger.” The eyerolls are unanimous as she leaves the room.

Ben and Rey leave the table to go change as well, ignoring the following gaze of Phasma as they go down the stairwell. Poe and Hux are too caught up in each other to say anything to them.

“So… last night was fine?” Rey says once they reached the room. Ben gives her a confused glance.

“You sound unsure.”

“It was fine, really. I don’t think we need to worry about disrupting the sleeping arrangements of everyone else. Since it was, ya know, fine. Unless you feel differently?” Rey is suddenly very aware that while she okay with their arrangement, Ben could potentially not be. Even if he doesn’t know how she woke up.

“No, no, no, it’s fine with me. Too. It’s fine.” Ben rushes out. Rey is sure her relief is present on her face, but Ben still looks a bit distraught.

“It’s okay to ask for things you want, Rey. No one will get mad if you say you want your own bed,” His voice is soft and something inside of Rey clenches. Ben is always the considerate one, even if his hard exterior begs to differ.

“Ben, truly, it’s fine. If I had a problem, I’d tell you. Trust me,” Rey assures. Ben doesn’t look quite convinced, but he lets it go.

A cool splash of water droplets on her face is what wakes Rey later that day. The pile of beach towels under her rub harshly against her skin as she turns over and comes to. Finn and Rose have jumped back in the lake, splashing around and looking every bit the love dazed couple they would both deny they were.

Hux and Poe wandered off to the hot tub before Rey’s little cat-nap, and she’s sure they were both enjoying post-coital bliss right about now. Zorii, Kaydel, and Jannah were laid out on the dock, soaking up the sun, exactly where Rey assumed they’d be for the duration of this trip. Ben and Phasma were seated beside her, under a little alcove at the beginning of the dock, both reading books with titles that included words Rey had never heard. She was pretty sure Phasma’s was in Greek.

“Enjoy your nap?” Phasma asked, without looking up from her book. Rey just hummed in the affirmative and stretched her now tight limbs. Her bikini did little in the way of covering skin, so she was especially glad Ben brought the highest uvf-protection sunscreen sold. She was less than glad that she only went with one coat instead of three, like Ben warned.

“How long was I out?” She asked, voice groggy.

“About and hour and a half. You missed lunch,” Ben told her. Rey gasped in horror at herself. Her body was usually so good at telling her when it was meal time. To be fair, her body did think all times were meal times.

“Benjamin saved you a sandwich, though. So, not to worry,” Phasma’s voice was cool, but Rey could detect a hint of teasing. She decided not to press it and look for her sandwich instead.

“Just one more movie, you guys. Please! How can you watch Legally Blonde without also watching Legally Blonde 2. It’s… sacrilegious.” Rey’s protest fell onto deaf ears as the last remaining of her friends wandered off to bed. Jannah and Zorii mumbled their goodnights to her, Jannah even giving Rey’s head a good-natured pat, before leaving her alone in the living room.

So she sat there, alone, black screen in front of her, looking out to the mountain side of the cabin, willing herself to be tired. Rey would’ve tried harder to stay awake earlier if she’d known that a little nap would cause her to feel this keyed up this late.

Rey does have a surefire way of exhausting herself enough to knock out for a few good hours, but that way is usually done in a bed by herself. Not in a bed occupied by her best friend who she woke up tangled with.

Rey decides sitting up her by herself would probably cause her friends to question her, so she makes her way down the stairs and to her room. Well, their room. The TV that looks like it came straight from the set of I Love Lucy, is on, filling the room with some static noise. Ben is snoring lightly, body inclined like he was watching the static before passing out. Rey snaps a quick pic of the scene, only to immediately delete it.

Rey shuts off the television, prompting Ben to wake with a start.

“Rey?” He asks, voice deep like he’s still asleep.

“I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“You didn’t. I was awake the whole time.”

“Sure, Ben.” She’s fairly certain he can’t see her eye roll in the darkness, but he can defiantly hear her snort. She sees the outline of him move over, giving her space to crawl into bed.

It’s not awkward, Rey tells herself, You did this last night and it was absolutely fine.

“What did you end up watching after I left?” He asks. She wonders why he’s making conversation even though he could very much just fall back asleep, but doesn’t question it. It’s nice in a very domestic sort of way that makes Rey shake her head.

“Only Legally Blonde.”

“Not the second one, too?”

“No, only because our friends are quitters who tap out too soon.”

Ben’s chuckle reverberates across the bed and it tickles her body.

Minutes pass and Rey tries to inconspicuously turn multiple times, trying to find a more comfortable position before Ben says anything.

“Rey.” It’s a warning, but with no venom.

Minutes later, after less inconspicuous tossing and turning: “Are you okay?”

“I’m not tired! I’m trying to be tired but my nap earlier fucked up my sleeping schedule and now I’m not tired.” Her voice is whiney, even to her own ears.

“Just do whatever you normally do when you can’t sleep,” Ben suggest, making her scoff.

“I can’t.”

“Why?”

“Because I can’t.”

“What could you possibly do that so bad you can’t do it here, with-”

“I masturbate!”

The air around them goes deathly silent and Rey is pretty sure Ben is holding his breath.

“When I can’t sleep, I masturbate, and I’m fairly certain that you wouldn’t appreciate me doing that in a room the size of a phone booth. So if you’ll please-”

“I don’t mind.”

Rey holds her breath now and is tempted to ask him to repeat himself, even though she knows she heard him correctly the first time.

“I wouldn’t mind if you masturbate, that is.” Ben repeats himself anyways.

“I don’t-that is, um. I wouldn’t want- it would be inconsiderate of me, I think,” She says, searching for the right words and coming up empty. “For me, to do that, next to you would be… wrong.”

“I honestly don’t mind,” Ben says, with a forced casualness that makes her feel bad for even telling him.

“I’d feel like I assaulted you, or something. Forcing you to be in the same bed as me while I get off.”

“You wouldn’t be forcing me to do anything.” Rey is tempted to just roll over and pretend to be asleep when he speaks again. “If it made you feel better… I could do it too. If you didn’t mind.”

It’s like all the air has been sucked out of her lungs. Her mouth is open, looking for literally any words to come to her. Literally anything.

All that comes is ‘Bend and Snap!’ Not quite fitting for the situation.

“Just forget I even-”

“Okay.”

Rey is surprised by her own voice. If Ben could see her expression, he’d see utter shock at herself.

“You sure?” His voice is so low she almost doesn’t hear it.

“I’m sure.”

Neither of them make the first move. Both deathly still, waiting for the other one to crack. I got us into this mess, Rey thinks, might as well move forward.

She pushes the blanket down past her hips, giving her easy access to slip past her sleep short and elastic of her underwear. She moves her hand slowly, trying not to seem over eager. She feels the bed shift slightly as Ben pushes down his boxer shorts.

It takes every ounce of self control Rey has ever had, not to let her gaze linger over to him. She promises herself that she’ll only eat McDonalds for a week if she doesn’t. She’ll actually wash all of her sheets instead of just her fitted sheet and pillow cases. She fix the shelf above the sink. She’ll do it all as long as she doesn’t look over to see what is probably a gorgeous cock that would make her mouth water.

Rey’s fingers go to circle her clit, trying to distract herself from what’s happening inches away from her. When she dips below, touching the folds of her pussy, she finds she drenched. She prays it’s from anticipation and not the wet glide of skin she’s starting to hear.

She doesn’t mean to, but when she hears Ben’s pace pick up, she matches it. Her hips twitch slightly begging for more friction. She tries to subtly buck into her hands without the bed shaking too much.

A deep, guttural groan escapes from Ben and the wet slapping of skin quickens even further. Rey can’t help the little sighs and moans that escape her lips. Her body can only handle so much and not being able to look at him is taking a lot of effort. Too much effort.

She’s bucking helplessly into her hand, two fingers deep in her cunt and one rubbing her clit. Her head is tossed back, her feet try to find purchase on the bed, her back is arched to the point of pain. All of this does nothing to distract her from the glorious noises Ben is making.

His huffs, his pants; it’s like a drug to her. She really can’t be blamed if she starts picturing Ben above her, instead of next to her. Ben’s fingers pushed tight into her fore instead of her own. Ben’s hand clutching at her nipples for dear life.

Its that thought, the one of Ben between her legs, body pressed into hers, that tosses her over the edge. If Ben just so happens to come simultaneously, that’s truly just a coincidence. Truly.

Ben is fucking his hand, bucking up in time with Rey, until her whole body stills. He groans, helplessly, one last time, cursing as he meets his peak. Rey’s vision whites out as she feels ecstasy flow through her. A fresh gush of liquid coats her hand as her fingers still within her.

When she hears Ben’s heavy breathing resume, she knows he’s coming down from the high too. She feels her resolve to not look at him there, crumble, so she shuts her eyes and focuses on catching her breath.

Pulling her hand out of her underwear makes her wince and Rey is overcome with the question as to what to do now.

“I’ll get a towel!” Her voice is too loud after such a silence, and she quickly leaves the bed for the bathroom. When she finds the light switch, some inescapable force makes her look over at Ben.

He’s bathed in the partial light of the bathroom, sitting up further. He was able to put himself back into his boxers, so the only remnants of what they’d done lie in the white fluid coating his hand. Rey gulps and disappears into the bathroom.

When she exits, after washing her hands twice and gulping down cold water, Ben is shrugging a new shirt on, and she catches the hard plains of his abdominal muscles. Her mouth goes dry again.

“I got you a towel,” She says bluntly, extending him a washcloth she’d found beneath the sink. She doesn’t mention it’s what she used to clean herself, but she’d honestly not thought of it until the words were out of her mouth.

“Ugh, that’s okay. I’ll just… wash my hands.” Ben brushes past her towards the bathroom and Rey goes to sit on her side of the bed. She focuses on breathing for a few minutes until she hears the door open. Even in just a silhouette, Ben looks beautiful.

“Are you okay?” He asks. Rey nods a bit too eagerly.

“I’m good, yeah. Better. I’ll be able to sleep now.”

“Good, good.”

“You?”

“Yeah, I’m good. I’ll be able to sleep now, too.”

“You weren’t the one who couldn’t fall asleep.”

“I’ll sleep better now.”

Rey snorts her laughter, making him smile softly.

When they’re both settled on their respective sides, Rey speaks again. “Thank you, by the way. I know that could be… uncomfortable for others. So, thank you.”

“Of course, Rey. I’ll always help you, no matter what it is. You’re my best friend.”

It’s the only time he’s called her his best friend and her heart didn’t fill with joy. If anything, it stings.

“Yeah, you’re mine too, Ben.”

Minutes later, Rey falls into a dreamless sleep.

#the gif doesn't have like A TON to do with the story #but he's just so soft in it and that is The Ben Solo Brand™#reylo #ben solo #kylo ren #kylo ren x rey #ben solo x rey #rey #adam driver #daisy ridley #sw #star wars #fan fiction #my work #rey x ben

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epnim · 4 years ago

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Independence Day

Maybe the title of this is way too broad to what I'm trying to say. Oh well, do most of you believe in zodiac signs? I do, it's really fun to do so. You have an instant criticism to certain people whether you met them for the first time, or been friends with them. You can just smirk at the corner of a chaotic room while looking at your friend who's drunk talking or crying too much and say, "definitely an Aries or a Pisces". This little way of amusing ourselves is quite dangerous especially if we depend on it too much.

Unfortunately for me, I got too fond of it that when I need a wake-up call, even to my relationship, I'll just go and "Oh, well this person is a *sign*"

I find it bad, being dependent, in general. It will lose all your capabilities to further improve yourself in terms of decision making or common standards.

Last night, I talked with a friend, it got too deep that we were talking about life and how depressive things were getting in our personal lives. As an acquaintance, I did try my best to give comforting words to him as a Cancer sign, I'm quite empathic when it comes to people opening up their vulnerabilities.

Suddenly, I called myself a hypocrite out of the blue, I suddenly remembered my inability to apply those things I told him, sadly. But we ended the conversation settling ourselves that everything will get better as long as we don't compare our lives to other people.

But behind our computer screens, was me trembling on my anxiety and problems as well, thinking how can I overcome my current downfall.

What affected me the most is the failing relationship I had with my partner, but then, this isn't about some broken-hearted girl writing rants about her ex.

It was normal for people to compare their lives to each other, it's an unhealthy habit, to be honest, nevertheless, hard to avoid.

This problem I had with my partner mainly focused on not having the same set of beliefs. This got me challenging myself out of the blue, I thought those true and genuine relationships are all about adjustment and sacrifice. But to my disappointment, even though we've done quite on the checklist, we stayed flimsy like we weren't established, to begin with.

It caused an abnormality on how I think, all this time, I've walked on eggshells on this relationship for almost a year but what made it wrong on my side? I turned a blind eye on those red flags in front of me.

It's been a fact that I both denied and accepted, in this dilemma I had let myself to fall into a conclusion that "Sagguittarius" people are quite hard to love, strangely. I've had several Sagi friends and my partner is one. They have this common personality of being straightforward and stubborn, the reason I had somehow tolerated the fact that my partner is this and that. But, before you tell me I was wrong, I already know it.

Maybe I was just too understanding for my good that I couldn't see my worth, I thought that being selfless was still because of the relationship, but no.

I realized that I'm being selfless to justify my own worth adding it on my 'brag' list because I can say confidently that I can be selfless to people I love the most.

This morning when I woke up, I received a text from my partner, this person wanted to talk, she called me by name and that moment, I knew it already.

I took a deep breath, I am mad and I can never calm down as long as I haven't told her everything I sacrificed for and how wrong her decision was. The reason for the split wasn't enough for me, but it seems that she had made her decision already. She told me that she wanted to try so hard to save the relationship but it seems that it's not working anymore.

This time, I knew too, I was tired of being careful, being uptight, and all that. And the decision will benefit both of us.

One thing I realized as I was writing this was the fact I got too dependent, just because she had given me a lot of pain, I think I committed to this relationship and set her up to fail. It was all on me.

After being mad for fifteen minutes, I suddenly calmed down, I just really wanted to tell her everything I've been feeling lately, failures, musings? Those.

And afterward, I couldn't get mad anymore, why? I knew her decision was right for both of us. For the sake of our individual growth.

Abruptly, it felt like someone has woken me up from a long dream that we were okay, that she was just a Sagi being like that and she doesn't mean it, I'm just cancer and I was being oversensitive. I was slapped to the reality that I can never use those default personalities to convince myself that we can do okay and that signs, in general, have nothing to do with any decisions we've had in our life. I know it from the start of the downfall, but I'm looking for an excuse.

I've been holding on that pillar for quite a time now, and I know that it's not going to be good if I keep on holding on to it. I kept denying to myself that I'm just being weak to face what's real and not.

And this dependence is a lesson I might be bringing to my grave. This harsh lesson of me trying to be okay when I'm not will always be exceptional among those other moral lessons in a day story.

I realized that what makes a relationship toxic is to look for excuses that everything will be okay, wounds will heal regardless of being together.

Being okay isn't the type of feeling that would knock on your doorstep one day, it's yourself delivering it on the drop off same as the pick-up address.

All I could say is I'm not okay, but I feel relieved. It was early to say things like this? But maybe I can, cause it will all start in accepting yourself on how weak you are and how things will not work in your way.

Just maybe next time, it gets better

#personalthoughts

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teaandatale · 5 years ago

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forgotten first meeting and either space au or roommate au for steggy?

57. forgotten first meeting & 22. Space AU or 12. Roommate AU

Well… How about all three???

Sorry this took so long! Given my last two, I wanted to makesure this one was a decent ficlet length, and I realized I’ve had a sci-fi/spacedrought in the last year so it took a bit to get myself into the zone. This ismore of a collection of scenes, but I hope it gives you the gist of this ficmash up! Um… It’s quite long for a meme thing… So there’s a cut.

He’s not sure what he had exactly expected out of the Servicewhen he first joined up, but Steve sure hadn’t been expected to be halfway tothe outer belt aboard the most protected, secretive ship in the known galaxy, the U.S.S. SHIELD. He hadn’t expected an Earther like him would be tapped for a highly classified secret mission with the SSR. He wasn’t supposed to be here. He was working his standard circuit between Earth, Moon Colony II & Mars Colony, patrolling for the usual contraband when the call came. A prepped mission just lost one of their crew members, and he was requested at behalf of the Service’s highly elite trained SSR squad to report for duty. Steve made his last stop, brought his second-in-command and best friend Bucky up to speed, and boarded the first transport ship out towards the Service base on Ganymede.

He also sure as hell hadn’t expected to be paired up with the woman that he had been half in love when they were just recruits nine years ago.

Peggy Carter hasn’t changed much in his eyes, at least not in her stature and attitude. Her hair was longer than it had been back then, worn loose unlike the pulled back regulations of recruit days. But those eyes, the quirk of her brow and the perfect red lips, he remembered them just like yesterday, when his breath hitched and he never quite recovered it.

The moment he locked eyes with her, he gets a giddy feeling in his stomach, both excitement and something like nostalgia.

“Agent Peggy Carter, Agent Steve Rogers, welcome aboard,” CommanderPhillips, an old familiar face, greeted them on the Command Deck. “You’ll be getting to know each other very well over the course of this mission, but we’ll start with the high-level objectives and schematics.”

There doesn’t seem to be any recognition in Peggy’s eyes, and she quickly turns away to focus on Phillips.

“The target of course is Hydra, as you’ve both crossed paths with them in the System.”

He tries not to dwell on it as Phillips pulls up the relevant mission documents. They’re joined by Howard Stark who Peggy does seem to recognize.

An hour later, preliminary brief under way, they are giving initial prep assignments aboard the ship.

“I look forward to working with you Agent Rogers,” Peggy says without any ounce of familiarity as she sticks her hand out to him. He tries not to take it personally, after all, why would she remember him from that night they properly met all those years ago.

Steve swallows his disappointment and shakes her hand back. “I look forward to it also, Agent Carter.”

“Now if someone could point me to my quarters, it’s been a long journey here,” she says.

Howard taps several times on his command screen then clicks his tongue. “We’re running a full crew right now given the situation. The mission team was paired in the same bunk room before you two got assigned to this in their stead. Looks like you’ll have to make due with bunking together. It’s at least private quarters, unlike all the juniors manning Comm stations. They’restill in the general barrack bunks.” He shrugs. “Good time as any to get toknow each other real well before you two go off on your own.”

He notices Peggy make a face for a moment, but she doesn’t comment. Bunking with a girl. Bunking with Peggy. Maybe he should offer to take a spot in the bunks.

“Fine,” she responds in a clipped tone. “Now if you please Howard, point us to our quarters.”

The quarters are small, as to be expected, though he supposes he’d been a bit spoiled having decent quarters on his usual circuit ship. The two bunks are built into opposite walls, with a small workstation under each. The privacy away from the crowded bunkrooms was a privilege. And Stark was right. He and Peggy were really going to need to get to know each other if they were going to make the covert mission work.

“Do you have a preference?” he asks her of the bunks.

“I’ll take the right wall if you don’t mind.”

He nods. “Of course,” he replies and they both get to work unpacking their personal effects in silence.

Steve contemplated saying something to break the silence, but he wasn’t sure if that would be more awkward than just saying nothing. He’d shared bunkrooms with women before, but he’d never shared private quarters withone, and definitely not one he had a crush on.

He decides not to make the situation anymore awkward for Peggy, who he is sure is not thrilled about sharing with him, and decides to give her as much privacy as one can in a tiny space.

“I apologize if I’m a bit short,” he hears from across the room. He turns and sees Peggy holding her blanket. “It’s been a long and wild journey here for me, so I’m on hour 34 without sleep.”

“You’re kidding!”

She shrugs. “Duty calls, but we hit an uncharted asteroid field which had been a pleasure to map out until we discovered it was one of the forgotten mine fields from the War.”

He’s impressed. Not surprised. But still… Impressed. “Wow,” ends up as his response.

“I just mean that the last few days have been particularly stressful.”

“Of course,” he agrees quickly. “That is one hell of a voyage to manage on a good day. Well you should probably get some shut-eye while you can. I was gonna scope the ship out. I can bring some food back in a couple of hours.”

He’s rewarded with a sleepy smile from her, and he can feel his heart thump against his ribcage. “That would be lovely. Perhaps some coffee if you can find it?”

He smiles back. “You got it.”

That first night, alone in their quarters together is awkward, even though Peggy seemed to warm to him when he had delivered on his promise of coffee and food. She asked him about his work on the patrol route, and he gets to hear about the more lengthy intense covert ops that had led her to stints on pretty much every occupied planet and various lunar colonies. He asks her a lot of questions about undercover work, having only done a few of his, and mostly out of necessity than direct order from above. He keeps waiting for an organic moment where their shared past will come up, but it doesn’t. They have a stilted conversation about turning the lights off, and then in the darkness, hyper aware that she is only several feet away, Steve can’t sleep. He stares up blankly, listening to the sounds of Peggy tossing and turning to get comfortable. He wonders if she slept well during her nap, or if like him, found that so much space travel made his brain so dizzy it wouldn’t easily relax.

He thinks about Bucky, and considers sending him a message just to check up on him. He thinks about how he spent the long voyage her missing his mother. It had been a long time since he had so many uninterrupted hours to just think. He misses her every day, but he had missed her so intensely the farther he got away from Earth, in a way he hadn’t felt since her funeral.

The morning alarm comes to early, but he’s out of bed and doing his usual routine or stretches and warm-up before he remembers that he has a roommate. He had so easily pulled off his t-shirt as he normally would have for exercise, but he feels so suddenly naked without it.

A sleepy Peggy Carter is a sight to behold, her features so soft. But even sleepy, her eyes roam his chest and he flushes. He grabs for the shirt on the floor and pulls it on, not daring to look in Peggy’s direction until he’s done his pull-ups. She joins in his stretches, and when she lifts her arms high up, he has to look away from her as a sliver of skin at her stomach becomes visible, before he says or does something embarrassing.

It’s been a long time since he’d been on a long voyage like this. He was used to his shorter cycles, never in the same place for more than a week, not going longer than three or four days without a docking. They’re still a while out before their passenger ship is outfitted and ready to go. It gives them plenty of time to strategize and to catch the other up on their knowledge and run-ins with Hydra.

They spend most of their days together. Compiling notes on known Hydra assets. Visiting Stark to confer about the specs needed for their mission. They run flight simulations together, Peggy as the lead pilot, the role she will be taking, and Steve as both navigator and lead engineer. They work on their cover, and keep up physical exercise, and weapons training, all together. By the end of their third week in transit, they’ve developed a genuinefriendship. Steve still listens carefully every night as she gets comfortablein her bed, listening for the sound of her breathing evening out before hefalls to sleep.

Two weeks after the success of their first covert trip, the test run Stark insisted upon before they flew off toward the Outer Belt alone, as goes to hell onboard the U.S.S SHIELD. They backtracked to Jupiter as the upheaval at Mars Colony played out. Phillips was apparently concerned about the powers at play, and was called back in the event a true skirmish arose. Which was perfect time for their main comm system to go down. As the Command Deck scrambled to boot up secondary and tertiary systems without compromising their position, Steve jumped below deck with Stark to try to recover the main system.

“Steve? Any progress?” he hears Peggy ask on their local two-way.

“Slow going Peggy,” he says with a sigh.

He hears her sigh too. “It’s not looking good. Phillips’ is navigating blind and the Mars situation seems to be getting worse.”

“Riots?”

She hums. “We’re picking up gun ships on the long-range. No accurate reading though with the system so intermittent.”

“Shit.”

He and Stark exchange a look. They have Peggy confirm output levels as they work, hearing as the situation gets more and more tense, with a three-gunship fleet sent out ahead to make better assessment. She gives them updates as she assists the crew upstairs. The repair takes hours, but they get it done.

“Peg we got it! Should be live any second!” He doesn’t wait for her response before rushing back over to her.

There’s a cacophony of noise on the Command Deck when Stevefirst reaches it, followed up a sudden eerie silence as the newsfeeds come back up, and the screens report the live images. He gasps along with the rest of them with the fiery images of ships under fire. The distress calls of one ofthe fleet’s gunships comes too late. He feels Peggy’s hand on his arm, but hecan’t even focus on it when he sees another disturbing image. A patrol ship, with an emblem of a star encased in concentric circles. Destroyed. His patrol ship. Bucky. Destroyed. The Honorary First Avenger patrol ship destroyed as it made a play to intercept fire at civilian passenger ship bound for Earth. Bucky…

“Steve.”

He doesn’t recognize that he’s the one hyperventilating until she calls his name. He looks at Peggy but sees nothing. Her hand is still onhis arm.

“Steve.”

“That’s my…” He can’t breathe. He wants to scream. “Bucky.”

The look she gives him is too painful to look at.

“No! No!”

Something squeezes his arm. “Steve, please! Please. Stay with me here. Breathe please. Please.”

He tries to follow her breaths, but between the chaos in his head and the tears streaming across his face, he can’t be here. He should have been there. It should have been him not Bucky. He pulls away and runs. He runs all the back to their quarters. He starts to scream into the void of the empty room, pounding his fist into the wall. He’s never so wished he had private quarters until this very moment. How can he have a breakdown and scream and cry and mourn and hate when he has to share a room with someone? How is he supposed to keep this all in check? How is his best friend dead?

Steve’s lost track of everything. Time. Space. His own body. Everything hurts so much that at this point his muscles feel numb. He jumps when the door opens. Peggy looks at him mournfully. He wipes his hand roughly across his face, clenches his jaw and wills himself not to show further emotion. She comes and sits down next to him on the floor. He doesn’t remember getting there. Was he not in his bunk?

Peggy puts her hand in his and pulls him close to her. He feels like she’s waiting for something, but Steve doesn’t move or say anything. Neither does she. After a while, he feels her hands slide up his arms. He blinks away more tears that have formed and watches her look at him. His shoulders are still heaving when her hands come up to touch them. He tries to still his uncontrollable body.

She comes close and without warning, her lips are on high on his cheekbone. The next moment she’s ushering him into his bunk. He feels like a scolded puppy sent to its cage. He turns over towards the wall with a frown. But then he feels something warm behind him.

“I’m so sorry Steve,” Peggy murmurs into his ear, pressing her lips again his jaw. She curls into him, her arm around his waist, her head resting against his shoulder. The rest of his defenses fall and he lets her hold him, turning so that they’re facing each other. “I’m so sorry,” she repeats as he sobs again, this time against her chest. “I’m here for you. I’m right here with you Steve.”

They spoon all night. She doesn’t leave in the morning. Peggy continues to weaver her fingers through his hair, and rub her hands down his back. But she doesn’t leave. They get up to clean themselves up, to force food into him, and for Peggy, a brief check-in up at Command where things have cooled significantly. Steve worries he’s all alone again.

But then Peggy comes back and climbs into bed with him. He doesn’t give a shit anymore. He presses his fingers into her hips and pulls her against him. When she curls her hand around his neck, he shudders and buries his face against her shoulder. Their bodies twist close together in the tiny bunk, warmth pooling between them. She lets him grip her close like his life depends on it. He thinks it might.

He dreams of the night they met.

It was at the canteen late one night after a long day of training simulations and ship duties. She’s one of three women on the ship. She’s been there for two weeks longer than the rest of them. So when Hodge, a brick head of a bully at the best of times, makes a pass at her and then tells her she can serve under him once he’s Captain of his own ship real soon because trust him, his dad’s got money so he’s sure of a promotion in a hurry, she gives him a calm request of an apology. He snorts and reaches for her ass. He’s barely made contact when she grabs his wrist, twists and then lands a punch to his jaw so quick and clean Steve’s mouth drops in wonder and quite honestly adoration. Hodge stumbles with the force of the hit and falls flat on his ass. A couple of his friends try to help him out, while the rest mostly look away not wanting to get involved. Hodge pushes his friends hands away, and red-faced marches towards her. She doesn’t look fazed but Steve finds himself there blocking his way before he can realize what’s happening.

“Easy there Hodge you don’t want to embarrass yourself a second time huh?”

“You stay out of it you pipsqueak Earther.”

It stings, like those comments always have, but he’s used to it. Had nineteen years of the like.

“That’s really original. No wonder they haven’t promoted you yet. Or is that just because your dad doesn’t have connections to Commander Phillips so your stuck proving your worth the same as they rest of us? Now if you’ll excuse me, now that your seat is vacated I wanted to get a drink.”

Hodge’s buddies talk him out of causing trouble and he walks out. Beating Steve up in front of plenty of witnesses at the canteen won’t earn him any favors. Everyone knows Phillips is a hard ass with no humor for nonsense. And Steve bets if Hodge did get in trouble, Steve would be right there with him for instigating it. It would have been worth it for the amused look Peggy Carter gives him alone.

“He’s a fun one isn’t he?” He finds himself commenting. It’s odd for him because he’s never really been able to talk to girls before. And here’s the most gorgeous one he’s ever met and he can’t stop his mouth.

She arches her brow, the amused look still present. He feels heat at the back of his neck and to avoid further making awkward motions, hefiddles with the drink he didn’t really want but felt compelled to get.

They sit there side by side in silence.

“Don’t listen to him,” he hears her say after a moment. He’s not sure what this advice is in reference to. To his harassment of her? “Not all of us come from the high life of Mars Colony.”

He’s surprised, pleasantly so, feeling a tug of connection with her already.

“You’re an Earther?” he asks excitedly. She’s the only other Earth-born that he’s met in his almost year with the service.

She nods. “Yes. I was born in London. Where are you from?”

“Brooklyn,” he tells her.

“That’s lovely. I’ve only been to Brooklyn proper once myself but visited New York frequently as a young child. My father was based there for a while.”

He dreams of how they talked for hours before they had to get shut-eye before morning duty. He dreams of how he had been so excited to talk with her again.

When he wakes up, after their third night of sleeping together, Steve kisses her once. Soft, gentle, quick. He feels too raw for anything more. Her closeness and her caring of him is a gift. They turn until they face each other, Peggy playing with his hair.

“We’ve met before,” he tells her, his voice rough with disuse. Her eyebrow quirks but she lets him continue. “On the U.S.S. Valkyrie. We were both recruits. At the canteen. You punched Gilmore Hodge. Remember him?”

She bites her lip as she thinks. “Yes, though it’s a little hazy. There have been a lot of assholes in my path.”

He shrugs his shoulders. “I understand. It was almost ten years ago.”

She bites her lip as she thinks some more. “Wait. The canteen. We talked about Earth. I told you about my brother Michael.”

He nods, and the first small smile in days forms on his lips. “Yeah, your fighter pilot brother Michael.”

“You told me about your Mum. A nurse making ends meet. Why didn’t you come find me again?”

He sighs. “Two days later I got a call from the hospital Maworked at. She was dying. The Service granted me a leave of absence. She died three months later. I came straight back to the Valkyrie. You were already gone.”

Peggy kisses him, so gentle, so full of warmth it makes him cry again. She doesn’t seem off put by the tears. “The stars are not always inour favor. But I’m so glad they found us here together despite all things.” Henods numbly in response. “I’m sorry I didn’t remember you Steve Rogers.”

He shrugs. “We’re here now.”

Peggy laces their fingers together. “We are here together. And I won’t leave you alone for anything. Not for all the galaxies inthe universe.”

#thesokovianaccords #steggy au mashup #my fic #maybe this will become a real fic one day #thanks for sending me these guys #they've really sparked my inspiration to write!!#steggy

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pigeontheoneandonly · 5 years ago

Text

The Price of an Afternoon

Part 3 of my Dragon Age / Mass Effect crossover. I also threw this up on AO3 if that’s more convenient. (Part 4 here.)

Several days later, when Nathaly’s turn to go into town came up, Kaidan met her at the bottom of the hill and declared his intention to tag along.

“No.” Her answer immediate, and expected. “It’s not a good idea. You could have fled in any direction, but sooner or later, templars are going to search north, and this is the first significant settlement they’ll reach.”

“I understand,” he said, with fraying patience. “I didn’t let you boost me from the Circle Tower just to wind up staring at cave walls instead.”

“It’s just for a few weeks. Until we figure out if it’s safe to move.”

“I’m not going to walk into the town square and summon a firestorm. I just want to…” He struggled with the words. “I haven’t seen people in a decade. Not living real lives, instead of something premeditated and scheduled and assigned before they were born. I haven’t smelled an apple that wasn’t cooked since I left my parents’ land for the last time.”

She shook her head, stubborn as he remembered. “Kaidan…”

“I’ll keep my hood up.” The weather was turning chill, and it would raise no suspicion. “I won’t even say a word. I just want to soak up the crowd. Maybe eat a pie, or something.”

Everything on her face said this was a horrible idea, and she was probably right, but her eyes had softened. Even in this short-lived reunion, he’d already learned they told the real story. He really liked that about her.

“Fine,” she said, at last. “But you’re going to take Ash’s cloak. It’s far less noticeable than that blue thing of yours.”

She said this dressed herself in a forest green shirt and burnt orange breeches. Even her armor was covered in tooled designs, and he caught her working on more embellishment at odd hours, waiting for the next thing to happen. That was a revelation. He never expected her to care much for ornamentation.

“Don’t worry. Nobody’s going to notice me next to all that.” He gestured at her, grinning.

She scoffed, but also seemed rather pleased that he’d noticed. “Get the damn cloak.”

It was about an hour’s walk into Crestwood proper. A large village or a small town, depending on particular preference, it bustled in early autumn, the harvest just starting to come in. Alongside the grain and vegetables in the market were fresh catches from the lake, scales shining silver and green and rainbow-hued, eels, mussels, and even a species of crab. He’d only seen them in drawings. Their home village of Kinallen was strictly land-locked.

Fish was naturally a staple of Kinloch Hold, surrounded as it was by a lake. But he rarely saw it whole like this, still wet, freshly gutted. Never knew it could smell oddly fresh, clean like the crisp water that bore it.

Nathaly caught him gawking and laughed, but not at him. More like she was enjoying his enjoyment. “Wow, you were going stir-crazy.”

“Only for thirteen years.” And it was amazing how fast that became a joke. He’d held himself so tightly for so long that any margin to relax had him spilling all over the place.

She grinned back. For a moment, he thought she might grab his hand again, like she had on the boat, and he wasn’t sure if he wanted it. But she walked on. And then he wasn’t sure he wasn’t disappointed. Kaidan had worked with lightening as part of the standard curriculum. Standing in her presence felt like summoning a shock, the mild buzz tingling over his skin as he held it ready in his hand. Exhilarating, but also dangerous.

One thing was sure. He still liked her every bit as much as when they were younger. She still made him laugh and put him at ease with almost effortless aplomb. And Nathaly hadn’t changed a bit, either. More confident, maybe, more sure of herself, and definitely ready and able to use that sword. But still careless and wild. Like nothing could stop her doing as she willed. Her father used to call her “our little whirlwind”, because like the dust devils that occasionally raced across their plains, Nathaly rarely gave consideration to anything in her path, tumbling forward for the sheer joy of it.

And sure enough, they’d barely arrived before she was distracted by a different booth, one displaying bolts of cloth and buttons and embroidery floss. He couldn’t imagine her with a needle in hand, but she bought several skeins. As she tucked them into her pack, she caught his skeptical stare, and snorted. “I taught myself leatherworking. How much harder could this be?”

He rose to the bait. “What kind of pattern are you thinking?”

“Maybe a little border going around a cuff. A band of words.” Delighted by her own idea. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, in a big circle.”

He laughed, hard enough that the hood started to slide back. She caught its edge just in time. “Careful, there.”

“Yeah.” It cast pall over the afternoon, reminding him that he wasn’t truly free, not yet. Not until the templars had given up hope of finding him and he could walk in the open air without tempting fate. But this was better than nothing.

She seemed just as eager to not ruin the day. “Help me figure out what we want to eat. This needs to last at least four or five days. Garrus wants to scout west, see if there’s something more permanent for us to move into.”

“Sounds good.” They wandered back towards the food stalls.

In the midst of picking through a fruit stand, trying to resist the raspberries in favor of something that wouldn’t spoil almost overnight nor get crushed in a knapsack, he felt Nathaly go stiff beside him. He glanced up. And then immediately back down to the fruit, trying subtly to pull the hood lower over his face. A gaggle of Chantry mothers had arrived at the far end of the market.

She bent towards him, urgently. “We need to finish up and leave.”

“Agreed,” he whispered back.

Then, as he started to move away, snagged his cloak. “Slowly. Don’t attract attention.”

A thousand years passed as he waited for her to finish selecting fruit. Another century or three as she paid the man running the stall. The Chantry mothers roving ever closer, their gossip growing louder. Kaidan tried not to stare. But it was next to impossible when it felt like the thread of his life was hanging taut, just waiting for one of them to trip and snap it.

Nathaly piled the remainder of their purchases into his knapsack. “Walk,” she whispered, as she put her arm around him and steered them towards the western road out of Crestwood. Then, when he involuntarily tried to look over his shoulder, “Eyes front. We’re almost in the clear.”

They walked through the stone arch and out of line-of-sight. Kaidan drew a huge breath. Nathaly dropped her arm and rubbed her eyes. “Well, that was something.”

“Yeah, I—” His eyes went wide. His throat closed up.

“This was the worst idea,” Nathaly went on, oblivious. “We’re never doing this again.”

He tried to wet his mouth. His voice a weak croak. “Nathaly—”

“And don’t you even start with the ‘I was trapped in a tower for thirteen years’ crap while I’m trying to keep you alive for the next thirteen—”

“Nathaly.” He spun her bodily.

Three templars had paused on the road east of them. Staring the pair of them down, heads cocked to the side, still confused, focused on him. Kaidan estimated that would last another moment or two and then they were both dead.

“Shit,” said Nathaly, eloquent as always. “Maybe they haven’t noticed.”

The templar in the lead put his hand to his hilt and started forward.

Kaidan took a step back. Wondering why in the hell he let her talk him into leaving his staff in the cave, giveaway or not. “I think that ship’s sailed.”

“Double shit.” And then she actually walked towards them. The blood drained from his face.

She stopped a few paces from the templar group, forcing them to stop also. “Can I help you?”

One of the templars in the back sniggered. The leader shot him a tempering glare. “Are you aware that you are traveling in the company of an apostate?”

Nathaly rested her hands on her hips. Not retreating an inch. Kaidan’s guts tried to turn themselves inside out. “Dunno. Are you aware that you’re about to make a terrible decision?”

Outright laughter, unchecked by the templar in charge, who couldn’t suppress a smile himself. “My dear woman, this… mage is our charge to return to the Circle from which he has fled, as Andraste bid us. If you insist on standing in our way, we will be forced to remove you.”

“You can damn well try.” She drew her sword, steel ringing in the autumn afternoon. Her eyes shifting to each of them in turn. “But if you do, I’ll kill you all. There won’t be a final moment’s mercy, letting one of you run off and regroup. One mage means nothing to you. You’ve got hundreds. Is this mage worth your three beating hearts?”

#mass effect #dragon age #crossover #nathaly shepard #kaidan alenko #shenko #fanfiction #pigeon writes

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