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cherienymphe · 4 years ago

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Cruel Intentions (Steve Rogers x Reader)

WARNINGS: NON-CON, manipulation, mentions of abuse, therapist!Steve, silverfox!Steve, drugging

! DNI IF THIS OFFENDS YOU !

➥ Image by @angrybirdcr

➥ dividers by @firefly-graphics

This is for the “For the Fic” challenge whose winner for my fic was @darkficsyouneveraskedfor

The entire plot was her request and I hope that you like it!

summary: after escaping an abusive ex, you find solace in a therapist recommended to you by a friend.

“...I know I shouldn’t...but sometimes I blame myself. In Harry, I know that I was looking for what I never had in my family. I think it made me quick to rush into things...to ignore what I should have seen.”

Your eyes remained on the dark carpet, the man before you humming as the scribbling sound of his pen reached your ears. You fought hard not to fidget, a horrible habit you’d picked up in the last 3 years. You finally lifted your head again when the room was bathed in silence, eyes meeting familiar blue ones as he studied you.

You were used to these short moments of silence by now.

You’d been recommended to Dr. Steve Rogers by a friend, a friend who’d helped you escape your violent ex in the dead of night while he’d been away on business. She had grown worried when it became obvious that the effects of your tumultuous relationship would be lasting if you didn’t do something about it. Oddly enough, you’d been receptive. For 2 whole years, you’d wanted to tell someone, have anyone to turn to and talk to, but fear, a very valid fear, had stopped you.

Not only had you been worried for your life, something that was threatened on a constant basis, but you’d also been afraid of judgement. You worried what your friends would say, if they’d blame you for finding yourself in such a predicament, if they’d look down on you for no longer fighting back. It was only by a stroke of luck that Nakia had seen Harry slap you right across the face when he thought she’d left. You were grateful that she’d waited for him to leave before rushing towards your trembling frame, pulling you into her arms as she shushed you.

She had demanded to know how long this had been going on. She had been horrified and confused and angry. It didn’t take her long to come up with a plan, and within 2 weeks, after waiting for Harry to leave the city for 2 days, she’d gotten you out and into her place across town. You didn’t stay for long, maybe a few weeks, wanting nothing but to put it all behind you, and although she was sad to see you go, she understood.

It was how you found yourself in upstate New York, in a secluded tiny thing of a house. You hadn’t even realized that you’d become something of a recluse until Nakia had pointed it out during one of your weekly calls. It had never hit you that you went to work and to home and that was it. You barely ate anymore, so grocery shopping was never a frequent affair. That was when she’d told you about a well known therapist in the area, Steven G. Rogers. You had been shocked by how much you weren’t opposed to the idea as she went on listing all of his credentials.

It was only moments after she hung up that you found yourself researching him yourself. You remembered noting how handsome the man was, even more so in person. His bright blue eyes and silver tresses complimented his strong features nicely, pink lips pulled up into a polite smile. You didn’t find yourself put off by the stranger, thinking to yourself that talking to someone you didn’t know, an objective listener who was paid not to judge you, might be for the best.

You soon found out that was easier said than done.

The first visit had been rocky, barely mumbling a thing and constantly fidgeting. You had hardly been able to meet his eye, and the session had abruptly ended when you’d left early, stumbling over your words as you gave some half assed excuse for your sudden departure. He was far more understanding than you deserved during your second visit. Wracked with guilt and anxiety, you’d written some things down that you wanted to talk about, and thankfully, the man hadn’t laughed at you. In fact, you remembered how fondly he looked at you as you unfolded it.

As it turned out, you didn’t need the slip of paper at all. Notes forgotten, you had rambled on for an hour. It was like once you started, you just couldn’t stop, and Steve simply listened the entire time. The next time he spoke to you was only to tell you that your time was up, and both embarrassment and disappointment had flooded through you. It must have been obvious, plain as day on your features, because Steve reassured you that it was normal to ramble.

You had been reluctant to leave. After years of biting your tongue and living in fear of even making the wrong sound, you finally found someone to listen. Even if it was only a stranger getting paid for it, it was still something. There was someone to express your fears to, and although it had taken some time, terrified that you’d say the wrong thing and upset him, eventually, you started to express your anger too.

“...and then I get angry all over again,” you continued when he said nothing. “...because I’m smart, because red flags in others’ relationships have always been so obvious to me. I’ve always been the mom friend, the one who can spot trouble before it even starts. I’ve helped friends get out of situations before they even had the chance to turn sour…”

You shook your head.

“...and yet...it took a slap to the face to realize just how deep I was in? Not the jealousy, not the anger issues nor the way he’d isolated me from just about everyone in my life...but a slap? It should’ve never gotten to that.”

“You can’t blame yourself for the actions of others.”

It wasn’t the first time you’d heard that. Hell, it wasn’t even the first time he’d told you that, and yet here you were again.

“We can go in circles analyzing your own behavior and the things you did and the things you said, but the truth is that you could play it out in your head a million times. You could do every single thing differently, and it still wouldn’t change a thing.”

The corner of his lips lifted into a crooked smile, a familiar sight.

“Some people are simply cruel, and it has nothing at all to do with you.”

You sharply inhaled, unsure of why such a simple statement resonated with you so deeply. You stared at Steve, blinking a few times, opening your mouth to respond when he glanced at the clock. It was a tell tale sign, and your shoulders sagged. You would think that after seeing him for 7 months now, you’d be used to leaving after only an hour, but it never got easier.

“That’s all the time we have for today,” he said, standing. “You’re progressing nicely, Y/N.”

You rolled your eyes, and he chuckled, eyes crinkling.

“You are. Progress and healing isn’t linear. Sometimes you’re going to take 2 steps back before you can take 10 more forward. It’s all part of the process,” he assured you.

You sighed.

“Well… I guess that does make me feel a bit better,” you replied.

He sent you a small smile as he guided you towards the door.

“I’ll see you next week?”

You returned his smile with a nod and didn’t let your face fall until the door was shut behind you. The good thing about therapy was that you could recognize your own toxic behaviors now, and it was clear that you were becoming reliant on your sessions with Steve. You had never liked being alone, but you had come all the way out here to learn to do just that. For your sake, you needed to learn to love being alone. It was how you had gotten into this mess to begin with.

Your phone vibrated with a call from an unknown number, and figuring it was a scam call, you silenced it.

Your house was practically in the middle of nowhere, so when the tv wasn’t blasting or you didn’t have Spotify playing some light tune, the house could get scarily quiet. But that was what you wanted...right? Harry had always been so explosive. The smallest of things could set him off and then the sound of yelling and shattering glass would rain down on you. Silence and solitude was what you wanted, needed.

Your phone buzzed again as you settled into your car, and you huffed when you noticed it was the same number. Again, you weren’t unfamiliar with scam callers so you ignored it. You noted that you needed to go grocery shopping, but you weren’t on the precipice of starvation just yet, so it could hold off for another day. By the time you got inside, your phone had started to buzz again, and with a frown, you decided to answer it.

“Hello?”

You were met with silence as you unlocked your door, and you repeated yourself, but there was no response. With a sigh, you hung up the phone. You both loved and hated coming home. It was quiet and safe and everything you had craved for years now, but the unfamiliarity of it all unnerved you. Sometimes you were just waiting for Harry to come flying through the door, screaming and breaking things. You had to remind yourself that this silence, this security, is how it’s supposed to be.

You went about making a quick meal, hopping into the shower while leaving the stove on low. When you got out, in the process of moisturizing your arms, you noticed your phone buzzing with another call. From that same number. Unease filled you as you neared it, and you hesitantly reached for it before answering.

Again, you were met with silence, and frustrated and annoyed, you simply blocked the number. A quick look through your phone revealed that you’d missed several calls from the same number while in the bathroom. Blinking with a deepening frown, you set your phone down and made your way to your kitchen. Dinner, like always these days, was quiet. You curled up on the couch with your plate while you watched some old sitcom.

The rest of the night passed as blandly as it always did. Sleep was much easier to find these days, so you had no trouble as soon as your head hit the pillow. However, just as you were on the verge, your phone buzzed with another call. This number didn’t match the previous one, but it was unknown nonetheless. With a groan, you put your phone on silent and rolled over, sleep claiming you.

“I know it’s you,” you sneered into the phone.

Unsurprisingly, you were met with the faint sound of breathing, and you clenched your jaw. You slammed the car door behind you before stomping across the parking lot.

“I know it’s you,” you quietly repeated. “Stay away from me.”

You hung up before blocking the number, the 10th number you had blocked in the past week. Every few hours or so a day, like clockwork, you got calls from an unknown number. You’d always end up blocking the number after the first few calls, but they always called again from a different one. At first, they’d say nothing, and you’d listen to silence for a few seconds before hanging up. Now, they’d taken to breathing in your ear like a creep. It wasn’t even until you blocked the 3rd number did it finally hit you.

Harry.

Harry freaking Osborn.

You felt like such an idiot for not putting it together sooner. Of course, it was Harry. Was this not the same man who threatened to hunt you down and drag you back like some animal if you ever left him? You had always equated woman beaters to cowards so you never thought he’d have the nerve to actually do it. Putting the pieces together didn’t bring you any comfort. Your filthy rich abusive ex had managed to track you down. What comfort was there to find in that?

Since that day, you hadn’t had a proper night of sleep. Your mind was constantly at war with itself on what to do. Having been down this road before, you knew the police would be no help. You’d gone to them once before, at the very beginning after the first time he’d hit you. It was your first harsh lesson that money ruled over everything. If you thought hard enough, you could still recall his hands around your throat, eyes alight with anger at what you’d tried to pull.

Still, you considered at least trying to get a restraining order but at the end of the day, that was a mere piece of paper. If Harry came to your door, it wasn’t going to stop him from hurting you, and that’s even if the whole process went through. They don’t just give restraining orders out willy nilly. You tried not to dwell on that hypothetical situation, but if he’d found your number, it would only be a matter of time before he found your address.

“Oh!”

You’d only just entered the grocery store, barely stepping into an aisle when you bumped into someone. The chips and bread in his hands went flying to the floor, and apologies tumbled from your lips. It was only after you helped him pick up what you made him drop did you realize who you’d run into.

“Dr. Rogers...hi,” you breathed.

The corner of his lips pulled into a crooked smile, head tilting to the side as his gaze fell onto you.

“We’ve discussed this before, Y/N. You’re more than welcome to call me Steve,” he told you.

You gave a nervous chuckle, nodding.

“Yeah...uh… I normally do, it just...it just slipped my mind,” you replied.

He blinked at you, eyes narrowing just a bit as he studied you. His brows furrowed in that concerned way you were used to, a silver strand of hair kissing his forehead.

“Everything okay…?”

You folded your arms over your chest, nodding with a strained smile.

“Everything’s fine,” you lied. “It’s just… It’s been a weird week. Our next session cannot come fast enough.”

You forced a light laugh, and he joined you. He placed a hand on his hip, eyes boring into your own.

“There’s a coffee shop just over there,” he gestured. “Did you want to sit and have a chat?”

You frantically shook your head.

“Oh, no. I couldn’t,” you told him. “I-.”

“I know I’m your therapist, but I want you to think of me as a confidant outside of the office too. You’re more than welcome to talk to me anytime. In fact, I encourage it,” he interrupted.

You nervously eyed him with a frown.

“Are...are you sure?”

His smile was comforting.

“This may be my job, but it’s one I chose because it’s one I enjoy. I don’t want you to feel like you’re only allowed to talk to me during our sessions,” he quietly said.

You bit your lip, and Steve continued.

“I’d hate to think that you’re bottling things up for days on end, suffering in silence because you’re just waiting to talk to me,” he confessed.

Your shoulders sagged, and you hesitantly nodded.

“...okay. I just need to get a few things for the house.”

“Okay,” he said with a smile. “You know where to find me.”

You parted ways, and a sigh escaped you. You really didn’t want to become reliant on Steve. Wasn’t the whole point of therapy to learn how to process your feelings and cope with them better? Running to your therapist every time you have a problem just seemed counterproductive. And yet, once your car was loaded up with the few items you bought, you found yourself making your way to the coffee shop.

After ordering a small drink, you easily spotted Steve at a table in the back. You noted that even outside of your sessions, he still dressed nicely. The dark button down he wore contrasted with his light hair, dark slacks making him appear taller. You felt simultaneously nervous and comforted as you settled across from him. There was a brief silence, one in which you sipped on your drink while he eyed you before finally speaking.

“So what’s on your mind?”

What a loaded question. You struggled over whether or not to tell him the truth. Your abusive ex had found you somehow and was currently harassing you. That’s not something you could just casually drop into the conversation. Besides, Steve was your therapist, not your friend. You didn’t think it fair to rope him into the drama with your ex. That wasn’t part of his job description. Right?

“Just sleepless nights,” you said.

It wasn’t a complete lie. Steve eyed you like he was waiting for you to continue, blue eyes soft.

“I’m also worried that...my past might not remain in the past.”

Once again, this wasn’t a complete lie.

“How so?” Steve hummed.

“I can’t help but wonder about what will happen if Harry finds me. He always threatened that he would if I ever left, and while I never believed him before, I just keep wondering… What if he does?”

Steve tilted his head at you, and you leaned back in your seat with a sigh.

“I’ve moved all the way out here to get away from him. I’ve isolated myself because I thought it was for the best, but it would have the opposite effect if he ever found me. I’ve never been particularly close with my family as you well know, and I’ve left all of my friends. I’m all alone here, and it’s the worst thing to be if he ever did track me down.”

Like always, you had started to ramble, and you snapped your mouth closed, embarrassment flooding through you.

“What brought all of this on?”

Steve’s eyes were sincere as he ran them over you, handsome face twisted in concern, and you glanced away.

“Just thinking,” you lamely replied, eyes on your drink now. “It’s something I’ve always thought about, sure, but it’s been more pressing as of late.”

“Well...that’s what I’m here for. You shouldn’t have to deal with these thoughts alone,” he eventually said.

“I know,” you sighed, rubbing your temples. “...but I shouldn’t become so reliant on you. The whole point of therapy is to learn to deal with these things on my own, is it not?”

Steve exhaled, leaning back in his seat as he gazed at you.

“Not necessarily. Not always,” he answered. “...but even then, until you can get to that point, it’s best to lean into your support. After all, you’ve gotta crawl before you can walk, right?”

You nodded, taking in his words.

“...and even when you’re walking, you usually need someone there in the beginning to hold your hand in case you fall. I encourage you to talk to your friends more, maybe even branch out and find some friends here, but I’m here as well. Don’t halt any of your progress because you feel like you need to be dealing with this alone. Outside help does more for your progress than you’d think.”

“I guess that does make sense. I don’t know… I just- I’d feel so bad about showing up at your office throughout all hours of the day or calling your receptionist-.”

You cut yourself off when he took out a pen and a slip of paper.

“Here,” he said, scribbling a number on it before handing it to you. “This is my personal number.”

Your eyes widened.

“Oh, I can’t-.”

“It’s fine, trust me.”

You hesitantly returned his smile, taking the piece of paper.

“Don’t hesitate to call me anytime you want to,” he told you, standing.

You joined him, fingering the note before sliding it into your pocket.

“Thank you…Steve. I don’t know if I’ll ever actually call you, but just knowing that I have the option makes me feel so much better,” you whispered.

You heard his pager go off, and you watched as he glanced at it. He let out a sigh, and if you didn’t know any better, you’d say he sounded disappointed.

“I’ve got to go, but I hope you’ll use that number if you need to.”

Thanking him again, you said your goodbyes, and you watched as he exited the shop. The slip of paper felt heavy in your pocket, so you solved that by putting his number into your phone. Just as you were about to put it back into your purse, it buzzed with a call from an unknown number. Fear settled into your gut, and with a grimace, you silenced the call and blocked the number.

You were late. You were so late it was laughable to even show up at this point. Your shoes tapped against the tile as the numbers on the elevator lit up as it passed each floor. You slipped through the doors as soon as they parted, and with no mind to check in, the receptionist calling your name, you raced towards Steve’s office. You reached his door just as he opened it to step out, and the papers that he was holding scattered to the floor as you collided with him. You hadn’t even realized how fast you’d been running until you were knocked on your ass.

You could hear the heels of the receptionist as she ran over, apologizing to Steve for letting you slip past her, but he waved her off. She reluctantly returned to her desk, and you scrambled to sit up, reaching for everything that had fallen.

“I was beginning to think you’d never show,” Steve joked.

You gave a shaky laugh.

“I uh...I got caught up,” you replied through trembling lips, fingers shaking as you struggled to stack all of his paperwork.

You could feel Steve’s eyes on you, but you avoided his gaze.

“I know I’m late. Our hour is practically over, but I- I just… Um, crap.”

You had dropped the papers all over again, and you both reached for them at the same time. At least, that was what you thought. Steve’s hands covered yours, and you only just realized how badly they were shaking.

“Y/N.”

His voice was soft, exactly what you needed right now, but you couldn’t look him in the eye.

“Y/N, is everything alright?”

Your chest was tight, and you wanted to will your lips to form a yes. You wanted to tell him that everything was fine, but you couldn’t even get the words out. He called your name again, and you suddenly stood, taking the papers with you. You handed them to him as he followed your lead, still avoiding his eye.

“I’m sorry for being late, and I know that you probably have another session-.”

“I don’t,” he interrupted. “Come in.”

You glanced up from beneath your lashes as he opened the door, ushering you inside. You wrapped your arms around yourself as he shut the door behind you.

“Is everything okay?”

You turned your face away from him, unable to keep it from crumbling as you held in a sob.

“Y/N.”

The way he called your name had you freezing in place, a shiver running through you at his firm tone, authority in the one simple word. In a way, it reminded you of Harry, and you looked to him with wide eyes. Seeming to understand what he’d done, Steve sighed before sitting down, making himself appear smaller to show that he wasn’t a threat to you.

“I’m sorry,” he genuinely apologized. “I shouldn’t have spoken to you like that. Please...sit.”

You hesitantly did so and reached out to take the tissue he offered you. You hadn’t even realized that you’d started crying.

“Now… I’m going to ask you again, and I’m begging you to please be honest with me. I’m here to help you in any way I can,” he whispered.

You wiped your face, sinking your teeth into your lip.

“It’s...Harry.”

Steve’s face was pinched with concern.

“What is it? Are you having nightmares again-?”

“No, you don’t understand. He’s calling me,” you confessed.

Steve froze, blinking a few times before his eyes widened, your words finally registering. You sniffed, fighting to hold in a sob.

“It started weeks ago, before we ran into each other that night…”

You didn’t miss the disappointment that flitted over his features, lips pressed together.

“...and I know I should’ve said something then-.”

“You should’ve called me.”

“I know! I know, but… I don’t know. I just wanted to handle this on my own,” you quietly said.

He didn’t respond, and you turned your eyes towards the window.

“Last time...I wasn’t able to get away on my own. I wanted it to be different this time. At first, I simply blocked him but he kept calling and calling from different numbers. Then I got a new phone...and eventually another, but it’s still the same. He keeps finding me,” you tearfully told him. “...and today…”

Your eyes met his, and you were comforted by the concern you saw there.

“Today I was at the police station. That’s why I was late.”

Steve straightened up at this.

“I thought that maybe I could get a restraining order or maybe they could trace the calls to show that it’s him, but the whole visit was useless. They boiled it down to petty relationship drama, and since there’s no record of his violent behavior because I never reported anything…”

You shrugged, scoffing.

“There’s basically nothing they can do. The whole visit was a waste,” you spat.

Steve heaved a sigh, and he slowly reached out towards you, leaning forward.

“I didn’t ask before, but… Is it alright if I hold your hand?”

You nodded. That was what you liked about Steve. He was always asking for your consent with just about everything, even the simplest of things, and it was such a nice contrast to Harry who used to feel like he was entitled to your body. Steve took your hand, throwing you a comforting smile as he eyed you, worried.

“I wish that you had called me,” he said.

You looked down, guilt filling you.

“I could have helped you before it ever got to this point. I have friends on the force, friends in high places who could lock this creep up if you wanted.”

“I feel like an idiot.”

Of course Steve, Dr. Steven Rogers, knew people who could help you. Of course he did! Your stubbornness had gotten you far deeper into this than necessary.

“What have I said about self deprecating language?”

“Sorry,” you murmured.

“You’re not an idiot. Don’t talk about yourself like that. You’re just a woman trying to find her strength again.”

You hesitantly nodded, and he brushed his thumb over the back of your hand.

“I want you to get rid of your phone,” he suggested.

You frowned, and he continued before you could question him.

“I’ll work on getting a new one for you. A secure one under my name.”

You frowned, not liking the idea of being so indebted to him.

“Steve, I don’t know-.”

“It’ll only be temporary. You can use it until I talk to some people and have him properly dealt with.”

Even though you weren’t keen on the idea, you reluctantly agreed.

“...and you have to promise me one thing…”

You eyed him, holding his gaze as you waited for him to continue.

“Promise me that you’ll call me the second he bothers you again,” he proposed.

Accepting the fact that your stubbornness was doing you more harm than good, you nodded. Steve seemed pleased with that, and with one last pat on your hand, he let you go. As he guided you out of your office, your phone in his hand, you felt more hopeful than you had in over a month. You felt so silly for not seeking out his help sooner, and you couldn’t deny the weight that had been lifted from your shoulders as you settled into your car.

True to his word, at your next session, Steve presented you with a new phone. It had all of your important contacts with Steve being at the top of the list. Embarrassment had flooded you as you thanked him with tears in your eyes. The week without your phone had been the most peace you’d had in a while, and you finally got some much needed rest.

“You haven’t heard anything from him, have you?” he’d asked you.

“No,” you answered, shaking your head. “Not a peep.”

He threw you that same smile that always brought you comfort.

“Good. Even if you never do, you’re always free to call me,” he’d reminded you.

Finally deciding to let your stubbornness go, you did. Talking to Steve outside of your sessions was easier than you thought it’d be. It was like talking to a friend. Sometimes you’d meet up at that same coffee shop not too far from his office, and other times you’d be putting a quick meal together while he was on the other line, listening to you ramble. You soon realized that it wasn’t just his profession that made him that way, but Steve truly was an unbiased listener. He never judged you for any steps back in your progress nor for any of your more self deprecating thoughts.

Best of all, you hadn’t heard anything more from Harry.

Not until he knocked on your door one night.

It was late when you’d heard the pounding on the wood, and having been watching tv in your room, you wondered if you imagined it. It was only moments later that you’d heard it again. Your eyes had widened, sitting up in alarm. No one knew you lived here. Not even your mailman. All of your mail collected at a Post Office box before you eventually went to pick it up. You stood, standing in your room, trembling in fear before a knock on your bedroom window had you screaming.

You didn’t hesitate to call the police, and it took longer than you liked for them to arrive. All the while, you dealt with knocking and pounding on your window and door. Back and forth, it alternated with minutes in between before stopping altogether when the sound of sirens could be heard. Unsurprisingly, and frustratingly, the police didn’t find anyone.

“Look, we’ll get this report down to the station,” the brunette had told you, not looking concerned in the least.

Frustration filled you, and you shuffled on your feet.

“Can’t you...idk, have someone stay here? Not even the whole night but just a few hours in case they come back?”

The tall man sighed, and you glanced at his badge. Officer Barnes, you noted.

“With all due respect mam, we can’t just have one of our officers sitting in your yard because someone knocked on your door-.”

“I told you-!”

“I know, I know. The windows too,” he said, sounding exasperated, and your frown deepened. “The best we can do is get this down to the station. You’re more than welcome to call us again should anyone come back.”

You crossed your arms over your chest as they left, finding no relief. You swallowed as you thought about Steve. You didn’t want to, but Harry had found you, tormenting you by knocking on your house in the dead of night. This was exactly the reason Steve had given you his number. Swallowing down your stubbornness, and with a deep breath, you called him.

He didn’t sound like he was asleep, and for that you were grateful. You would’ve kicked yourself if you had woken him up. Finally getting out why you’d called him was an awkward affair, stumbling over your words, and you felt even worse as he agreed to come over. There was no hesitation, and you couldn’t help but feel as if you were taking advantage of Steve’s generosity.

You mumbled out your address, surprised to realize how relieved you were. You couldn’t remember the last time you had trusted a man this much. Harry had made you so paranoid, but you supposed that was what therapy was for. This was why you had all those sessions with Steve. To learn to heal and to trust again.

You opened the door with a small smile when he finally pulled into your yard. He was dressed comfortably, and you felt much better about your own ratty t-shirt and leggings, but his casual attire made him no less striking.

“Thank you,” you breathed as he stepped inside.

“I was up going over paperwork when you called. I’m glad you did,” he told you.

You leaned against the door as you closed it, rubbing your arms.

“I didn’t know if I should. It’s just… He was here, Steve. Knocking on my door and window like something out of a horror movie, and the police treated it like it was nothing,” you complained.

Steve tilted his head at you with a sad smile.

“First thing in the morning, I’m going to make some more calls. Since he’s in town, it should be easy to have him put away. At the very least, a restraining order.”

Relief and hope filled you as you brushed past him.

“I really can’t thank you enough for coming over. I promise I won’t keep you long, just until I feel I can be ok being alone,” you said over your shoulder.

He followed you into the kitchen.

“Can I get you anything to drink? Eat? It’s the least I can do.”

“Some wine might be nice. You might want to pour yourself a glass too,” he suggested.

You chuckled, and he joined you, but you agreed with him nonetheless. You poured a glass for both of you, and you leaned against the counter with a sigh.

“I just don’t understand why he can’t leave me alone. Hasn’t he put me through enough?”

Steve hummed.

“From what you’ve told me, he strikes me as a narcissist. I’d bet that he doesn’t want you to move on,” he mused.

“Maybe,” you distractedly replied as you heard your phone ring. “I’ll be right back. Let me grab that super quick, it might be Nakia.”

Your phone was in your room, but by the time you reached it, it had stopped ringing. Sure enough, it was a missed call from your best friend, and you brought your phone with you to the kitchen, determined to call her back. Steve’s eyes were fond when you returned, and you shrugged.

“I need to call her back. I’ll only be a moment,” you said, swiping your glass.

“Take all the time you need.”

You made your way to the living room, taking your place on the couch as you called her back. She answered almost immediately.

“Hey, what’s up?”

She greeted you with a soft exhale.

“Uh… Harry’s...dead.”

You froze at her words, pulling the glass away from your lips. You blinked a few times, trying to come to terms with what she’d said.

“...what?”

“I just found out. I honestly didn’t know how you’d take the news, but I thought you should know.”

She was right. You yourself didn’t even know how you felt about this news. You had loved this man at one point...but he was also your abuser. This was good news...right?

“How?” you finally asked her.

She sighed.

“Apparently, he’d been missing for months-.”

“Months?”

“Yeah,” she quietly replied. “They found and identified his body today. I just saw it on the news.”

Your stomach twisted as the truth, and the meaning behind it, sank in. Just because Harry had been missing for months, it didn’t mean that he’d been dead for months. It very well could have been him harassing you like you believed. But...if they’d found and identified his body today, then there was no way it was him at your house tonight.

“Thank you,” you eventually said. “Um… I’m glad you told me.”

“Are you alright?”

“Yeah, I’ll be okay,” you honestly replied. “I’m just a little unsure of how I feel about all of this, but I’ll call you tomorrow when I’ve slept on it.”

“Alright. Be safe.”

You said your goodbyes and returned to the kitchen with an empty glass.

“Everything okay?” Steve questioned.

Your face must have been an open book.

“Harry’s dead,” you scoffed, blinking as you still fought to process this.

Steve didn’t respond, and just like one of your sessions, he seemed to be waiting for you to continue.

“Apparently he’d been missing for months and they just identified his body today. There’s no way it could have been him knocking on my door tonight, and now...now I’m even more scared than I was before,” you confessed. “God, I can’t even fully come to terms with my feelings on this because I’m realizing that Harry might not have been the only thing I should’ve been afraid of.”

“Hey,” Steve soothingly said, nearing you. “Are you sure it wasn’t someone who got lost? Maybe they had the wrong house?”

You thought about it before shaking your head.

“No, it definitely didn’t seem like that. Oh my God,” you cried, letting your head fall into your hands.

Steve pulled you into his arms, startling you, but you eventually relaxed, the wine settling into your system nicely.

“It’s going to be alright-.”

“What if it isn’t? Because I’m the idiot who thought that Harry was the only possible danger out there, I’ve attracted another without even realizing it.”

“Hey, hey,” he soothed. “Maybe it was nothing, and maybe it was more. Either way, I’m only a phone call away. Say the word, and I’ll have an officer living in your yard if need be.”

You chuckled at that, and nodded.

“Thank you,” you said, looking at him. “I-.”

You swallowed your words when his lips met yours, soft and demanding as they moved against your own. You were stunned, and it took you a moment to realize just what was happening before you pulled away. You stared at Steve with wide eyes, hesitantly reaching up to touch your lips as you took a step back.

“Steve…”

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that,” he breathed.

Your lips parted, a soft gasp escaping you at both his words and the fire in his gaze. It was so sudden and great that it froze you.

“Steve, I think… I think you should go,” you whispered, almost in disbelief.

He frowned at you, tilting his head just a tad as he folded his arms over his chest.

“Go? Why would I do that when you’re not feeling well?”

You opened your mouth to repeat yourself, even demand to know what he meant, but a sudden wave of nausea hit you, head feeling fuzzy. Steve caught you just as you stumbled, and you frowned, fighting to get out of his arms.

“What…?”

“You seemed really tense. I thought you could use something to take the edge off…”

You stared at him in disbelief, attempting to blink away the stars in your vision. Your legs felt like they were made of Jell-O as Steve guided you towards the living room. He deposited you on the couch, and you could hardly do anything as he laid you down, sitting beside you. His blue eyes, normally so soft and comforting, were dark with a longing you had never seen before.

“You were like a wounded little lamb when you first came to me,” he murmured, brushing his thumb over your lip. “So lost...broken… It’s because of me that you’re even halfway back together again.”

His hands moved to slowly undress you, taking his time, and your hands might as well had been air as you tried to stop him. You shuddered as the cool air in the house hit you, nipples pebbling, even more so when Steve brushed his fingers over them.

“I wanted to wrap you in my arms during that first session. Drag you back as you tried to leave, show you how a woman should be touched by a man.”

You were in a state of shock, disbelief coursing through you as you watched Steve undress. Even at his age, the man was a wall of muscle, thick bands making you swallow in fear as you hopelessly tried to tell yourself that this was a dream.

“Steve,” you whispered.

“I had to be patient. I didn’t want to scare you off, push you into the arms of another dangerous man. I had to help you heal before showing the kind of man I can be for you,” he told you, fingers on your face as he neared you again.

Your whole body felt weighed down, and you couldn’t stop your tears even if you wanted to. Your touch was light as you pressed your hands to his chest, feeling like you were going to be sick as he settled over you.

“Harry is gone. He can’t hurt you anymore, and I’m going to make sure no one ever hurts you again.”

The irony was not lost on you, but the way he said that struck something in you, and your mind traveled to the unthinkable. You didn’t get the chance to think about it some more before Steve was forcing himself inside of you. A choking noise escaped you as he filled you to the hilt, your legs spread wide to accommodate his frame. Steve released a shuddering breath, breathing through his nose, body trembling as he delighted in the feel of you wrapped around him.

It was amazing that while all of your senses felt dulled, you could feel his pulsing member inside of you so well. He surrounded you, bulky frame caging you in, and you felt like you would pass out from suffocation. Steve sighed just before his lips met yours, and your stomach clenched as he moved within you. A broken moan slipped out against your will, and Steve groaned at the sound.

“I’ll show you pleasure that you’ve never known, touch you in ways you never felt. I know how to make you happy,” he purred, his pace languid as he thrust in and out of you.

You turned your head away, the furniture of your living room blurring together from whatever he’d slipped into your drink.

“I know your deepest desires and your deepest fears. I know you better than anyone else out there…”

You hated that in a way, Steve was right. You’d bared yourself to him under the guise of trust and healing. He really did know all there was to know about you, and you hated yourself for it. You hated him for hiding his intentions so well, for taking advantage of your vulnerability and trauma. He tutted as you started to squirm beneath him.

“After all I’ve done for you...in all the ways I’ve helped you, the least you could do is give yourself to me. I deserve to reap the benefits of my efforts-.”

You gasped beneath him, legs kicking around him, but he only pressed himself more firmly against you.

“...I’ve gone out of my way to make sure you were safe, to protect you so that no more threats remained to you nor our relationship.”

“You’re crazy-.”

You cut yourself off with a yelp as he nipped at your neck, jerking in his hold as he continued to snap his hips into yours. His hands were gentle on you, a contrast to how he fucked you, his pace increasing with every passing minute. Despite the fact that you could hardly move, he wrapped his arms around you, holding you in place as the sound of your coupling filled the room, your core now wet and slick from his ministrations.

Steve seemed intoxicated, blissfully immersed in the feel of you and how you clung to him. His low groans and moans filled your ear, and you could do nothing as he covered your lips again, tongue tasting you, moaning at the taste of wine that still remained.

“My touch will never cause you harm, bringing you nothing but pleasure for the rest of our lives.”

tags: @xoxabs88xox @harryspet @readermia @opheliadawnwalker3 @nickyl316h @captainchrisstan @sebabestianstan101 @villanellevi @lokislastlove @notyourtypicalrose @coconutqueen21 @hurricanerin @hyoyeoniie @sherrybaby14 @cocoamoonmalfoy @mandiiblanche @gotnofucks @oneoftheprettynerds @doozywoozy @sapphirescrolls @threeminutesoflife @searchforanotherway @mcudarklibrary @buckybarnesplumwhore @widowsmaximoff @nerdygirl8203 @supernaturalwintersoldier @charmed-asylum @harrysthiccthighss @patzammit

#dark steve rogers #dark steve x reader #Steve Rogers #steve rogers x reader

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pilothusband · 4 years ago

Text

fly me to the moon

Rating: M-ish (a lil spicy at the end)

Pairing: Frankie Morales x f!reader

Warnings: Swearing, boner mention, a douchebag, a little hint at food shaming

Word count: 2.5k

Description: You go on a date with a complete asshole. He takes you on a helicopter tour, not expecting the pilot to be the one to sweep you off your feet.

Author’s note: Probably should have edited this more but meh. This was completely self-indulgent. Unbeta’d. Let me know what you think!

gif by @pedroispunk

Why did I agree to go out with this jackass in the first place?

Your eyes were starting to feel sore with the amount of times you had rolled them throughout your date. He hadn’t noticed the exasperated movement of your eyes, too swept up in talking about the summer he spent in Ibiza with his former fraternity brothers, his medium rare, overpriced ribeye untouched.

So far, everything had felt off. The way he pulled up outside of your apartment and honked his horn to signal his arrival, the anchor cufflinks in his freshly pressed suit, paired with a pair of leather boat shoes and a salmon-pink button down. You loved a man in pink, but the rest of the outfit just felt like it didn’t fit together. Was he going to a wedding or going to party on a yacht? You had glanced down at your own outfit, a simple black dress that stopped mid-calf and hung loose, just barely hinting at your curves.

God, you hoped he wasn’t going to take you on a boat.

You had only agreed to this date in the first place because Liam, an investment banker who worked in your office building in the suite below yours, had asked you nearly every day for a month in a row. He was persistent, kind of like a mosquito, but you figured you were being too picky and needed to expand your horizons a bit. Maybe you would learn more about him and actually have a good time.

Not so much.

You couldn’t help but notice the way his brows knit together when you had ordered the fettuccine alfredo. The restaurant’s menu was pretty limited, and you didn’t recognize most of the items. This place was just too fancy for your comfort. You had wanted to call the waiter back to the table and change your order to a cheeseburger, just to embarrass him further.

As Liam droned on about how his father had taught him how to manage his finances, you let your mind wander to last weekend. You had gone out with your friends, Benny and Will, a pair of brothers who were each other’s polar opposites, yet they had a bond that was stronger than any other siblings you had ever met.

You were already well acquainted with their other friends, Santiago and Frankie, affectionately known as Pope and Catfish. Pope had a magnetic personality– he commanded the room without meaning to, sometimes to the detriment of others around him, who were trying to get a word in edgewise.

Frankie was complicated. He was quiet, a little rough around the edges, and a little gruff, but so soft at the same time. His eyes gave way to a deeply settled kind of hurt. They had drawn you in almost right away. It only took one glance at his smile, brilliant and boyish, with a hint of a dimple gracing his cheek, before you were hooked.

You had only known him for a few months now and only saw him when the guys got together, but you couldn’t deny the desire that clutched at your stomach whenever his deep brown eyes met yours.

You heard your date call your name, snapping you out of your daydream.

“You ready for part two of the best date ever?” Liam asked. His smirk was all wrong. It wasn’t soft or playful. It was polished and practiced. He reminded you too much of Patrick Bateman.

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” you said, pasting a smile onto your face, inwardly wincing at how fake it was. You could not wait to go home and put on your sweatpants.

Shit. Holy shit.

He was taking you on a helicopter tour. The same company that Catfish worked for. Your stomach was in knots, threatening an unwelcome return of the alfredo you had for lunch.

Maybe he’s not working today, maybe we’ll get a different pil–

Of course you had no such luck. The guide ushered you both over towards the launching pad, where Frankie stood, wearing a tan flight suit. His hair was tousled, likely from being up in the air for most of the day and he had a pair of aviators on. He looked delectable.

His eyebrows shot up in recognition. He cocked his head to the side, glancing at your date, then back at you, a grimace set on his face.

Frankie schooled his expression and walked up and gave you a side hug, his hand squeezing your shoulder gently.

“Good to see you,” he said, giving you a small grin.

“You two know each other?” Liam asked, his eyes shifting between the two of you.

“Oh, yes, Liam– this is Frankie. He’s one of my friends.”

Friends.

“Nice to meet you, Liam,” Frankie said, shaking his hand politely.

Liam gave Frankie one of his wide, practiced grins. “Likewise.”

You could have sworn you saw Liam wince a little during the handshake, but you chalked it up to pre-flight jitters. Liam slung an arm around your shoulder possessively and chuckled.

“Excited to show this pretty lady some pretty sights.” His fingers curled into your shoulder, a little too hard, and he jostled you a little, trying to come off as a cute gesture. It had you feeling like a rag doll.

The smile you gave him must have been pretty forced, because Frankie coughed, interrupting the moment.

“All right, folks. Ready to get going?”

You nodded, feeling a fluttering in your belly. Despite not wanting to be stuck in a helicopter with Liam, you were excited to finally see Frankie in action.

Frankie handed you both a pair of headsets and instructed you to buckle up. Before climbing in himself, he checked Liam’s belt, tightening it a little and then came over to your side, adjusting your belt as well. You risked a peek at him out of the corner of your eye, noticing the way his Adam's apple bobbed up and down as he swallowed.

“All set,” he murmured, giving you a soft smile.

Before you knew it, Frankie was in the pilot’s seat and the helicopter roared to life. The blades were whirring above your heads, making your hair whip around your face. You tucked the sides of your dress under your legs, silently cursing Liam for not warning you of this afternoon’s non-dress appropriate activity.

The swoop you felt in your stomach was unlike anything you had felt before, more intense than a commercial flight. You tried not to fidget, knowing you were in good hands with Frankie piloting, but fuck, were you already high up, and only climbing higher by the second.

You briefly wondered how high up you were now, how high up Frankie had ever flown. You planned on asking him once you were all safely back on the ground.

A large gust of wind made its way into the helicopter, forcing a shiver down your spine, goosebumps rising on your woefully unprotected arms.

“You cold, sweetie?” Liam asked. “I would give you my jacket but I need it to stay warm. You should have planned better, gorgeous.”

You instantly clenched your teeth, wishing murder was legal at this very moment.

“Well, Liam, I would have brought a jacket if you had told me we were coming here,” you said, voice dripping with a sarcastic, syrupy sweet tone.

“I have a jacket in the compartment in front of you,” Frankie said, glancing over quickly. “Go ahead and put it on.”

You obliged, opening the compartment and bundling up in the oversized jacket, instantly feeling better once the corduroy material covered your arms. You wrapped it around your torso and took a deep breath, hiding your grin in the sherpa collar. It smelled like him.

“Thank you, ‘Fish,” you said softly. He didn’t respond, but you saw his dimple appear out of the corner of your eye.

“All good back there?” You heard Frankie’s voice in your ears. You looked over to him, only catching a glimpse of his hands and the side of his face, partially obscured by his headset and his baseball cap.

“Doing fan-tas-tic, Frank,” Liam whooped. You couldn’t help but wince at how loud his voice was, and how he intentionally pronounced Frankie’s name incorrectly.

“Great,” Frankie sounded unamused.

You huffed, annoyed at your date’s bad manners and looked out the window. Terrible date aside, you had to admit the bay from above was absolutely gorgeous. You looked down at the ocean, so expansive and eternally blue. Your eyes skimmed over to where water met land, at the soft sand on the beach, turning into a thick forest.

“Frankie, it’s beautiful,” you gasped.

You looked over at him briefly, seeing a hint of a smile on his face.

Liam was momentarily forgotten, until his hand snaked its way onto your thigh, giving it a little squeeze. Instinctually, you moved your leg at the unwanted contact. Liam looked over at you, an ugly scowl marring his face.

“Careful with the turns in this thing,” he said, addressing Frankie. “Our girl here ate about 15 pounds of pasta before this.”

You felt a hot wave of embarrassment wash over you, tears pricking at the corner of your eyes. They streaked down into your hairline from the force of the wind around you. You had already realized Liam was a bit of a douche, but you hadn’t thought him to be cruel.

“The only thing we have to worry about bringing this thing down is that big head of yours,” Frankie quipped back.

Biting back a laugh, you looked out the window so Liam wouldn’t see your reaction.

You could tell Liam wanted to argue back, but he stayed quiet, since the man he wanted to lash out at was responsible for keeping you all alive at the moment.

The rest of the ride was pretty quiet, other than the persistent chopping of the helicopter blades. The views were beautiful, but you found your eyes wandering back over to Frankie every few minutes. The tanned skin of his hands as he deftly worked at the throttle. Every time he pulled on a control you saw the veins in his forearms strain with the movement. You wondered what else those hands could do.

Before you knew it, the bird touched down and you unbuckled your seatbelt, removing the tight headset from your ears. You had a slight headache and you could tell getting down was going to be a struggle.

Frankie seemed to have no issue, jumping out of his seat with grace and walking over to your side to help you down. Your legs were shaking, so you stumbled as your feet hit the ground, grabbing onto his broad shoulders for dear life.

“I– oof, sorry,” you laughed nervously, rubbing your nose. You had bumped into his chest nearly smashing your face into his sternum. Frankie bit his lip and chuckled in response, squeezing your waist. You felt dizzy with his arms caging you in like this. It gave you an overwhelming desire to wrap yourself around him, to feel him pressed against you.

“It’s okay, I got you.” His voice rumbled in your ear, absolutely sending your senses on a tailspin. His strong, quiet voice was doing something magical to your already weak knees.

You stepped away before you fell over, remembering your date after a moment. He was about ten feet away, arms crossed, his face pinched in an angry expression.

“I don’t think this is working out,” he said as you walked over to him.

“I couldn’t agree more,” you said, giving him a sickly sweet grin. “I’ll find another ride home.”

Liam scoffed and made his way back into the tour center to grab his belongings. You instantly felt a weight lift off your shoulders. Thank God he left.

“So, why did you go out with that asshole, anyways?” Frankie asked, a bewildered expression on his face.

You sighed, feeling embarrassed.

“I honestly don’t know. He wouldn’t leave me alone so I decided to give him a shot.”

“I can’t say I blame him for being persistent, but seriously, fuck that guy.”

You huffed a laugh.

“Seriously, when he made that comment about what you ate for lunch I wanted to throw him right out of the helicopter.”

You bit your lip and sniffed, feeling the embarrassment wash over you at the memory.

“I’m sorry you had to hear that,” your voice was small and you rubbed at your arms nervously.

Frankie had a hard, angry look on his face. It made you feel a little giddy, that he was so angry on your behalf.

“He should have never talked to you that way. He’s lucky you agreed to go out with his sorry ass.”

“You’re right. And God, I can’t believe he took me here, of all places,” you laughed. This really was surreal.

“Feels kind of like fate, huh?” He said, giving you a boyish grin.

“How so?”

“Well,” he stepped towards you, arms sliding up the material of his jacket. “I’ve always wanted to see you in this jacket.” His gaze made its way down your figure. His eyes were dark as he swallowed heavily.

“And I’ve always wanted to go on a date with you, though not while you’re on one with another man.” The smile he gave you was shy, searching, as if he wasn’t sure how you’d react.

“Well, I won’t be making that mistake again,” you replied, stepping closer.

Your tongue came out to wet your lips and Frankie watched with rapture.

“I’d like to kiss you now, if that’s okay.” His mouth was an inch from yours, and his large, calloused hands cradled your face gently.

“Please, Frankie,” you sighed.

His lips were soft, despite the bruising urgency in his actions. Your hands immediately tangled into his hair, knocking the cap off his head. You melted against him and licked his bottom lip, asking for permission. He immediately complied, licking into your mouth. Your tongues found a delicious rhythm, tangling together. You moaned into his mouth, spurring him on further. His hips pressed into yours. You could feel how hard he was, even through his flight suit.

“Fuck, baby” he rasped, pulling away. His chest was heaving, breath ragged from your kiss. “The things I want to do to you.”

You slanted your hips back into his, pressing into his erection. “Then do them.”

Frankie bit his lip and groaned, pressing his forehead to yours.

“You’re absolutely perfect for me, you know that?”

You grinned, leaning forward to capture his lips again.

“I want to do this right, though,” he said. “I’m going to take you out on a better date. Show you how first dates should go. And then I’m going to take you home and show you how much I’ve wanted you for months.”

You felt as if your heart had stopped momentarily.

“That sounds perfect to me,” you said, kissing him again.

Taglist: @tenderclio @softdin @darnitdraco @freeshavocadoooo @recklessworry @wyn-dixie @manalg14 @codenamewife @comphersjost @princessxkenobi

#frankie morales #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x you #frankie catfish morales #triple frontier #pedro pascal #tw food mention

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syndxlla · 4 years ago

Text

More To Love

Part two of the More to Love series

Summary: As you start adapting to Mandalorian culture and life in the palace, you have to start thinking whether or not you’ve made the right decision.

Word Count: 6.2k, NO USE OF ‘Y/N’

Warnings: Non-Consensual kiss, mentions of loss of pregnancy

Author’s Note: Wow wow wow, the support I’ve gotten for this fic already has been so awesome thank you so much especially to the people who have direct messaged me you’re all so kind I love you guys!!!!

Part One here

“Good-morning, Your Highness.” A Handmaiden said as she pulled open the heavy curtains, letting the bright morning light shine into your elegant room. You softly moan as the sun hits your eyes, and roll onto your side to try and sleep more. “Today you will be having brunch with Her Majesty the Queen and a few members of her court and we have set aside a bit of time for you and The Prince to get to each other this evening before dinner in the library.” Her accent was thick like the Prince’s. You sigh and roll around onto your back, letting your limp hand rest by your face. “I trust you slept well?” She asked as she walked towards your bed, in her hands was a golden tray with a teapot on it.

“Not enough sleep.” You groan, trying not to sound annoyed but failing.

“Would you like to sleep longer, Highness?” She asked.

“No, I’ll be fine.” You sigh before scooting to sit up in your bed, and she places the tray on the table by the mattress.

“I wasn’t sure what type of tea you liked, so I brought a chamomile, do you have a preference?”

You stop to think for a moment, “Chamomile is fine for today, but do you have any hsuaberry tea?” Hsuberries are native to Corellia, and you could use a little taste of home.

“I’m not sure, but I will check for tomorrow?”

“That would be lovely, thank you.” You nod.

“I’ll return in a half-hour with the other maiden’s to prepare you for the day then?”

“Alright… Miss?” You stop her as she turns to leave. “Do you have a name? What can I call you?”

“Oh… of course, Lady Soniee would be fine.” She smiles. “Thank you for asking.”

“It’s my pleasure.” You smile in return. “Lady Soniee, is my guard outside?” You ask.

“Yes, he returned to his post with my arrival, in the night we have the night guards patrolling so our individual day guards get some time off.” She explains.

“Would you… Would you send him in, please?” You ask.

“Yes, Highness. Is there anything else you would like?” Soniee asks.

“No, that’s all, thank you, dismissed.” You released her from her duty and she turned to leave the room. As her back was turned to you, you rub a bit of the sleep out of your eyes and run your fingers through your hair in an attempt to tame your bed head. You wanted to look presentable for the knight. Truthfully, you haven’t quit thinking about him since last night’s endeavor. You fell asleep picturing what he looked like under his armor, and brainstorming what his name might be. You even wondered if you dreamed about him, but it’s all gotten hazy now. You knew this was inappropriate, and that you were here for your wedding with another man, but something about the secret relationship the two of you were forming was exciting, you were addicted to it. You sigh deeply as she closes the door behind her and then quickly looks down at your nightgown, proceeding to pull the cap sleeves down your shoulders a bit to show more skin and more of your collar. You laugh slightly to yourself, “You are ridiculous.” You mumble, chuckling. Before you could consider anything else, however, he walked in, his stature at attention.

“Is there something wrong, Your Highness?” He asked.

You felt your cheeks heat up in his presence, “I just wanted to thank you again for last night.” You tried not to gush as you spoke.

“Oh… Yes, anything for you, your Highness.” He nodded in response. Your chest filled with warmth as you looked at him.

“You’ll be accompanying me today, correct?” You ask.

“Of Course, Your Highness.” He nodded once again, you really wanted him to call you princess again.

“Wonderful, I hope you slept well last night.”

“I did, Princess, did you?” You smiled a little too wide at the title, and tried to cool your cheeks, not wanting to look like an absolute child in front of him.

“Yes, I did, thank you once again, I’ll see you later.” You sigh in response. “Dismissed.” That word felt like poison to you, you didn’t really want him to leave but didn’t know how to keep him around longer. This was an accident waiting to happen, and you had the power to stop it in its tracks, the only problem is that you didn’t want to.

—

The Gardens were even more beautiful in the daylight, the sun shone spectacularly off the fountains and the various statues scattered throughout the estate contrasted lovely with the bright flowers. You sat at a round table ornately decorated with various different pastries, teas and sandwiches on it. Around the table was the Queen, the women of her royal court, yourself and of course the Elf. You really wanted to speak to the elf, unfortunately, you asat across from her, and was forced to mostly converse with The Duchess Wren and another woman you had never spoken to before. The Queen introduced her to you last night but you were having a hard time remembering her name. The women weren’t in such heavy gowns this time, and none of them wore the jeweled headpieces they had on the night before except for the queen. You wore a light beige and white dress which ruffled at the sleeves and had a scooping boat neckline. It was very beautiful, however the corset back didn’t go nearly as high this time as the last dress did, which meant you couldn’t use it as an excuse to spend more time alone with the silent knight. He stood a few feet behind you away from the table, watching over the event. Every now and then you would turn to glance at him, ceiling every time you laid eyes on his armor.

The tea was fine, not as good as the winter teas you had back home, they were far more bitter. Mandalorians clearly enjoyed more bitter-tasting food as you noticed the longer you’re here. Once again, you were being mostly ignored as the Women who knew each other talked about drama within the Mandalorian Royalty. It was all much more conspicuous than anything you would talk about at home, and you found yourself quietly listening in on the various conversations instead of applying yourself to them. The women most likely thought you were some sort of strange claude, not social enough and far too boring for their culture. Again, you tried convincing yourself that you were overthinking, but you had a hard time believing yourself.

“And what about you, Your Highness?” The Elf spoke up, interrupting your deep and self-centered thoughts.

“Huh?” You were not listening.

“What do you think about the conduct to come out of Coruscant?” One of the fatter women sitting by the queen asked.

“Oh… I think they’ve rather lost their integrity since the assassination of their Emperor…” You clear your throat. You were just saying what you remember hearing your father say, attempting to fit into the conversation and hopefully gain some affection, knowing how much Mandalore despised Coruscant (you were rather indifferent, however).

“Couldn’t have said it better myself.” The Queen smiled, “I believe you will be well suited for the politics of Mandalore.”

“Oh yes,” you began, “I had been preparing to be Queen of Corellia my whole life, I find politics rather exciting.” You admitted.

“Hm, I prefer to leave the politics to the men.” The fat woman scoffed and sipped her tea.

“I nearly forgot, you’re the only hair to the throne of Corellia, aren’t you?” The elven queen asks.

“Yes, I am.” You nod in response.

“Ah yes, your mother got sick and lost a baby-” The fat woman laughed. Your face dropped and went pale.

“Excuse you-” You began.

“Lady Aryn, have you no respect?” The Queen frowned.

“There’s nothing wrong with it, just a rumor I heard.” She shrugged, not seeming to care that she offended you or The Queen.

“Well it’s not a rumor.” You swallowed thickly, wanting to put her in per place for such an inappropriate comment, “My mother lost a baby when I was all but five and you have the audacity to bring it up like there’s nothing rude about it.” You spit out.

“Well who is to take the throne once you marry the Prince?” The fat woman asked as she sipped her tea. Many of the other women involved stayed quiet, timidly watching the drama play out.

“I don’t believe that is any of your business.” You chuckle out of frustration.

“It is my business, whomever rules Corellia during the impending war will directly affect how Mandalore responds to it. Considering my husband is the Grand General of the Mandalorian Army, it is very much my business.” Lady Aryn raised an eyebrow and dread washed over your body as she finished.

“I believe that your Cousin will be taking the throne?” The Elf Queen vouched for you and you were thankful she did, but still found the entire situation rude and out of hand.

“It should be me, but I’m being married off and getting my title stripped away from me.” You blurted out and immediately regretted what you said. You looked around at the faces of the women at the table. Each one showing a different expression of shock or betrayal, everyone but the Queen. The Queen’s face was stern, her lips dangerously straight and thin and her eyes dark as the two of you made eye contact. You had offended the Queen of Mandalore, you had offended the most powerful and wealthy monarch in the world. You sighed, and closed your eyes for a moment. “May I be excused, Your Majesty?” You asked with your eyes closed, waiting to open them until you finished speaking. You looked up at her through furrowed eyebrows, awaiting her response. The air was deathly thick, the tension grew as the court looked around at the scene. Your anger was justified, the remark on your unborn sibling was out of turn and incredibly rude, and after feeling ignored and unwanted for twenty-four hours by the very people set up to be your family, you snapped.

“You are excused.” The Queen said quietly, almost too quiet to hear, and you slowly stood from your chair before turning to leave. You looked to your knight as you did, and he followed. After you made distance between yourself and the other Mandalorian women, you could hear faint whispers. That went so much worse than you could have ever imagined. You want to disappear, you want to go home. You swallow a tear and sigh of relief when you get back into the Palace, strolling the halls until you found an empty sitting room. You sit down on one of the blue sofas and bring your fist up to your mouth. The Knight waited at the door, watching your every move. You felt ridiculous, and the absolute last thing you wanted to do was cry in front of the only person who’s shown you any decency since you arrived in Mandalore. You look over to him with dewey eyes before clearing your throat.

“I apologize for my conduct, I didn’t want you to see me like this.” You shakily sigh out. He didn’t reply, and you laugh once, “I suppose you have your code to uphold here.” You look down as you place your hands in your lap.

“No, I’ve sworn to protect you, that comes before the code of arms.” He takes a step forward and you were almost startled at his voice, you weren’t expecting him to speak up, but you were incredibly happy he did. You look up to see him a little closer, and smile just slightly at his gesture. “I didn’t protect you out there, I’m sorry.” He nodded his head.

“There’s no way you could have known,” You shrug, you didn’t want him to blame himself for your mistake, “Besides, I wasn’t in any danger.”

“Maybe you weren’t in any physical danger, but.. I really shouldn’t say this but that was out of hand. You’re family with the Queen now, she should have defended you.” He continued to step closer to you. “I deeply apologize for being so careless and allowing you to be hurt.” He bowed after saying this, and you smiled.

“Your apology is accepted, Sir Knight.” You slightly teased. “Thank you.” Your chest and stomach was filled with that warm and welcoming feeling again, and the negative endeavor from outside was forgotten even for just a moment. You knew you would have to face it eventually, and formally apologize to the Queen for offending her, but until then, you would allow yourself to feel okay for now. “You’ve been the kindest to me since I arrived.” You tilt your head, “You have no idea what it’s meant to me.”

“As I said, I vowed to be there for you, I will honor that vow.” He said, you didn’t want to feel like he was only being nice to you because he had to. You suck your lips in for a quick second as you absorb his response, unsure of how to respond. “But-” he interrupted your thinking, “It has truly been a pleasure to serve you, and I would be happy to undress you when you ask.”

Your eyes widened, “Excuse me?” It’s not that you didn’t like what you said, you just weren’t expecting it so casually.

“That- came out wrong, forgive me.” He corrected himself. “I mean, I’m happy to help you with anything you like.” He clears his throat and you smile, blushing at his sheepish correction.

“I understand.” You look down at the floor again. “I’m sorry they only give you the nights off.” You switched the topic, not wanting to linger on the last one in case someone was walking by or overheard anything.

“That’s fine, I... enjoy my time with you.” He stopped mid-sentence to consider what he was saying. You smile and laugh a little again.

“It must be tiring, wearing the armor all day, standing at attention, only getting a handful of breaks every few hours…” You think out loud.

“I’m used to it,” He shifts to his weight on one leg, lightly poppin his hip out as he speaks to you. “It’s not so bad, anymore.”

“Is the armor heavy?” You ask, trying to distract yourself.

“Yes, but that’s another thing we get used to. Our bodies adapt to it.”

“So… are you saying you’re strong under all that metal.” You raise and eyebrow, flirting just a little. You could hear a light chuckle come through the helmet when you said this.

“I guess you could say that.” It was like you could hear his smile.

“I’ve found that all Mandalorians are very attractive, do you fall under that assumption?” You knew very well you were playing with fire, that this was uncharted territory and everything was screaming at you to stop before you got too far but you couldn’t. Everything about him was so intriguing to you.

“I’m.. I’m not from Mandalore, actually…” He slowly responded.

“Oh?” You tilted your head, “I thought you had to be in order to be a part of the guard?”

“Well, in a way, you do. You have to be either born in or taken in as a foundling, and that’s what happened to me.” He shrugged.

“Oh, I didn’t know that.” You blinked, “Where are you from? Or can you not tell me…”

“The Nevarro frontier.” He responded, “I probably shouldn’t have told you that.” He groaned. You felt a shiver run down your spine at the sound of his rough voice groaning in such a way. You swallow your thoughts.

“You’re a long way from home.”

“I guess you could say that.” You smile at him again after he says this before turning and looking behind you, taking in the room. This was a larger sitting room, and there was a baby-grand piano in one of the corners. Outside of the windows you could see a courtyard, not the same courtyard that the garden is placed in, but one that was stoned and had a large tree in the center of it. There was so much of the palace you hadn’t seen yet, it was far larger than the Corellian one. You stood up to walk over to the piano, feeling a bit better now, and sitting at it. “Can you play?” He asked.

“Yes, I learned at a very young age.” You bring your hands up to keys and begin playing a song, one you have memorized. It was your mother’s favorite song. You played it with such emotion that the Knight was drawn into it, relaxing from his attentive stature and enjoying the sound.

“You’re... very talented.” He nodded.

“Thank you.” You said, looking up at him from the instrument. “I’m a bit rusty I must admit.” You shrug.

“I know someone who would really love it, no matter how rusty you say it is.” He explained.

“Who?” You ask as you stop playing, wondering who he may be talking about.

“I-I shouldn’t say, I’ve already broken the code so much-”

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, I fully understand.” You interrupt, “But just know that anything you say is safe with me, If you vowed to protect me from both physical and emotional harm, the least I can do is keep your secrets.” You nod. He sighs, you can’t hear it but you see it in the armor.

“My.. Uh, my son.”

—

“Soniee, do you know if any guards are fathers?” You ask as the handmaiden tightens the corset on a different dress, tying it to your body. You were preparing for some time alone (chaperoned) with the Prince. You knew you promised the Knight you would keep his secret, and you would do everything in your power to uphold that secrecy, but you figured there was no harm in asking a few questions here and there. As far as anyone is concerned, you’re just curious about the customs and traditions of your new kingdom.

“Well many of the Knights have families of their own, some have illegitimate children as well.” She said behind you.

“So, they don’t have an oath of celibacy?” You ask, hoping it didn’t sound too strange or specific.

“What? No,” She laughed as she said ‘no’, “No, marriage and families are incredibly important to Mandalorian society, the only thing stronger than power or war is love and family. Blood before anything else.” She explained, she had clearly said those words before.

“Maybe that’s why everyone is so cold towards me.” You sigh.

“Maybe.” Soniee confirmed, “But I also believe any new member of house Kyrze is going to be given a hard welcome.”

“And why is that?” You ask, wincing afterwards due to a tight pull of the corset.

“Well it’s taught in every Mandalorian history class: House Kyrze is the royal bloodline, but it wasn’t always that way…”

“What do you mean?”

“There was a civil war some years ago almost immediately after the assassination of Queen Satine. A bad man came in and tried to overthrow Queen Bo-Katan. He was successful in his endeavors for a while, and that's why the Elves and the Queen are so close-” The handmaiden explained.

“I never knew about a Mandalorian war that happened among themselves?”

“It’s shielded from the outside world, we fear that if it gets out, people will stop coming to us for their wars out of speculation that we are not strong enough to fight them if we can’t control each other.” She finished the corset and took a step back, admiring the beautiful dress. “Many Mandalorian’s blame Queen Bo-Katan for the civil war even though she gave up everything she believed in to protect the royal family. You see, she used to be on the side of the Bad Man, but switched after her sister’s death. Many see her unfit for the crown, including members of her own Court.” You didn’t need any more explanation from Soniee to assume who that might be. Considering your previous endeavor this morning, the fat woman probably did not approve of the queen.

“That is why it’s essential that this marriage happens. The people love Korkie, they always have. He is the true heir and the pride of his mother, who was revered and loved throughout all of the kingdoms. When he is back on the throne, not only will anyone who disapproves of Bo be silenced, but they will also see it as one of her many successes. Having to raise and prepare a child who isn’t even yours is not easy.” Soniee concluded.

Great, another weight to be placed on your shoulder based on your ability to fall in love.

“I had no Idea any of that happened.” Your eyebrows furrowed together.

“Personally, I believe that is why you’ve received such a harsh welcome, Korkie is the golden boy of Mandalore, and many will not see you fit for his wife.” You sighed, your belly filling with stress.

“Highness, the Prince is waiting for you in the library.” Your Royal Guard interrupts the conversation, and you smile at him.

“Thank you, Lady Soniee, you’ve been incredibly kind and helpful.”

“Of course, Princess. If you need anything, don’t hesitate to ask.” She curtsied and you walked out of a your suite into the hallway.

This dress was simpler than the last, a soft pink with embroidered flowers running up and down the smooth tulle and puffy sleeves. It was very beautiful, one you brought from Corellia that was gifted to you a few years ago. You wore pearls from Naboo, and had a soft look to your ensemble. You wanted to be perceived in a specific way by your fiancé, pure of heart, and genuine.

You open the doors to the hallway, and your guard is standing at attention.

“Would you escort me to the library?” You ask, smiling with your lips afterwards. He nods and holds his arm out for you to take, looping your own arms round his and walking down the hallway.

“You look very beautiful, your highness.” He said quietly through the metal, quiet enough that you were the only one who would hear it if anyone would be listening in. You got the lightest touch of goosebumps at his deep and gruff whisper in your ear.

“Thank you, do you think The Prince will like it?” You ask, looking up at his helmet with beady eyes.

“He would be a fool if he didn’t.” The Knight responded, and your stomach filled with butterflies. You blushed as you experienced the addictive feeling of his presence, and pulled him just a bit closer to you. The two of you walk in silence for the remainder of the journey to the beautiful library. This was a part of the palace that you had never been to before, and it was just as stunning as the rest of the castle. Books from all over the world in countless languages sat upon towering bookshelves that reached the tall ceiling. There was a large fireplace and in front of it was a number of red velvet armchairs and sofas. As you entered the quiet room, your eyes immediately found the Prince, who sat in one of the chairs reading a book, his head resting against his fist. You and the Knight walk towards him, and as you pull to unhook your harm, you feel him stretch his hand out to feel you for as long as possible before the contact breaks.

“Prince Korkie.” You curtsie, interrupting his reading. He looked up from the book and smiled, standing and bowing to kiss your hand once again.

“Your Highness, You look lovely.” After he compliments you, you turn to look at the guard, smiling.

“I hope you weren’t waiting for too long.” You as he takes your hand and guides you to sit on a sofa.

“Not at all.” He reassured, “Allow me to introduce you to Lord Vaughn, he will be chaperoning us today.” He gestured to a man sitting across from you.

“My pleasure, Princess.” He stood from his seat to bow.

“The library is beautiful, as is everything else in the palace.” You compliment.

“It’s less beautiful when it’s been your classroom growing up.” The Prince teased and you chuckle. “If you would like, please feel free to take any books at any time.” He nodded.

“Thank you, but I’ve never been very into reading.” You admit. “I much prefer music.”

“Ah yes, I play the viola, my mother taught me when I was a boy-“ Somehow he always made it about himself you noticed. You didn’t think he tried to, but conversations are rather boring when you’re just listening. He talked for nearly a half-hour about playing for the Queen of Naboo as a twelve year-old and being revered as a child prodigy for the early part of his life. You sat quietly as he bragged, telling the story to both you and the chaperone instead of keeping his focus on you. You even caught your mind wandering every now and then, glancing over to your knight to make a little face of boredom in an attempt to make him smile. You know you wouldn’t be able to see him if he had smiled, but the thought of it was enough to keep you occupied. After the Prince bragged about his viola skills for close to an hour, he finally asked what you played.

“Piano, actually. It’s my muse, if you will.” You smile, happy to have finally been included, although it was short lived. The prince then continued to talk about how the Queen could play piano but got sick of it after her sister died and hasn’t played in a very long time. He went on and on about it, and you were starting to wish you had picked up a book on your way in to pass the time.

“Allow me to show you to my favorite section of the library.” The Prince said, forcing you to snap out of your little trance as he held your hand out. You clearly hadn’t been listening for a while because you had no recollection of the previous situation, his voice was very tune-out-able. “I’ve asked the Chaperone and Knight to stay here while I do.” He smiled, and you take his hand, standing from the chair.

“Is that appropriate?” You ask.

“I’m the Prince, I can do what I want.” He shrugs and then proceeds to walk you towards a corner in the library. You look over your shoulder to the Knight one last time before you’re pulled around the corner. “This hall is where I would go when I was mad, isn’t it beautiful?” He asked.

“Yes, it is.” It had mostly desks and only a few bookshelves, but was covered in mirrors on both sides of the walls, showing an endless reflection of thousands of copies of yourself.

“I wanted to give you this, as an engagement present.” He held out a small box wrapped with a blue bow.

“Thank you…” You take the gift out of his hand.

“It was my mother’s.” He said as you untied the bow and opened the box. Inside was a beautiful necklace of a sapphire stone with a gold halo.

“It’s beautiful, thank you.” You held up the necklace to your eyes, watching how it sparkled in the light.

“May I put it on you?” He asked. You nod and hand him the jewelry. Turning around and pulling your hair to the side, you feel him hook the necklace, letting the heavy gem sit against your collarbone. You looked down at it.

“It’s incredibly beautiful, Prince Korkie.” You turn around and smile.

“Please, just Korkie.” He said before forcing a kiss on you, pushing his lips into yours forcefully and holding you in place. It startled you, you hadn’t expected this from him, especially considering how kind he had been before. This was your first kiss and was less than pleasant. You push him off you, and look at him in disbelief. You didn’t want to offend him, but couldn’t mask the look of shock and beytrayal from your face. Your stomach filled with regret, it was customary to not kiss one another until your wedding day, why had he broken that tradition? You felt as though it was your fault he forced himself onto you, and you swallowed back the feeling of anger and distrust. If anyone found out you had kissed him before the wedding, they would all blame you, regardless of who initiated the kiss. You both knew this.

“Excuse me…” You huff passed him, returning to the main room of the library and walked towards the door, you heard your Knight follow you close after, and in a fit of confusion and flusterment, you storm as fast as you can towards your room.

When you two got to a more private part of the palace, closer to the suite, you heard him speak up, “Princess, princess what’s wrong?” You hear your knight say, and before you can ignore him, you feel him grab your hand. It isn’t forceful and it doesn’t hurt, but he’s strong, he wouldn’t be letting you go unless he had to. You turn around to show a tear running down your cheek. “What did he do?” The Guard asked. You swallow thickly and try to look away, darting your eyes behind him, “Look at me.” He said.

“I can’t see your eyes.” You sniffle.

“Please, did he hurt you?” He took a step closer to you, your bodies almost flush against one another.

“We can’t do this here-“

“Did he hurt you?” The knight repeats himself, sterner this time.

You look at his helmet and sigh, “No.”

“Then why are you crying?”

“It doesn’t concern you.” You were embarrassed, and pull your hand away before walking away, trying to get to your room before bursting into tears. You heard him pick up his pace to catch up and then suddenly he was cutting you off with his body, firmly grabbing your shoulders.

“As your Royal Guard, it does concern me. I told you just this morning that I promised to protect you, and now you’ve gotten hurt twice because of my mistakes.” He said, startling you just a bit. No one had ever spoken to you this way, no one had ever shown that they care this much.

“It’s not your fault, really.” You reassure.

“But it is. What did he do to you?”

“It’s… I’m embarrassed. It’s silly and I’ll-“

“Nothing you say could ever be ‘silly’ to me.” He said, his voice hushing as he did, giving you those little goosebumps again.

You sigh, looking up at him and trying to get out your next sentence, “He-he kissed me. I wasn’t expecting it and he broke tradition and it was all so… so forced.” You admit, feeling as though he would blame you for the kiss.

“He what?”

“You’re really going to make me repeat myself?” You scoff and push passed him, you were almost to your room, if you could make it just a little further-

“He kissed you?” The knight asked.

“Yes. I told you it’s ridiculous but-“

“It’s… not. Ridiculous, that is. It’s not ridiculous. Did he ask if he could?”

“No…” You reply, “I didn’t think he had to.” You raise an eyebrow. “I just wasn't expecting such a stark betrayal of tradition and it startled me and if anyone else find out, they’ll all blame me-“

“He has no right to lay a single finger on you without your permission. He hurt you, and therefore I’ve failed at my job.” He interrupted you.

“Oh-“ You mutter, finally arriving at your door. He had done that without your consent, he had hurt you. The knight was right all along and you were stupid to not accept his help right away. You wipe a tear away from your cheek and open the door. You take a step in, and hold the door open for him to join you. “I have over an hour before dinner… I’ll have to see him again.” You swallow before closing the door.

“I’ll be there by your side, I won’t leave you again. I won’t let him hurt you like that ever again, I promise.” He was firm and confident with his words, giving you a little wave of relief as he spake them.

“Thank you.” You whipser. You take a deep breath and look at him, “You said he can’t do anything without my permission?”

“Yes. That’s how you protect yourself. Don’t give him power he doesn’t deserve.” The Knight explains.

You exhale sharply, “I had never been kissed before.” You admit, looking down at the floor. “It wasn’t what I expected, to say the least.”

“I’m sure it wasn’t… kisses are special, sacred.” He sounded pained as he said them, like it was hard for him to get the words out.

“Have you kissed anyone?” You ask, considering he had a son, you assumed he had, but never really know unless you ask.

“Yes, once, a long time ago.”

“So you haven’t had that helmet on since birth?” You lighten the mood just a little. You hear him chuckle and your stomach is filled with warmth at the noise.

“No, I haven’t.”

“Can you ever take it off?” You ask, walking over to sit on your bed, listening intently, he takes a step in that direction, too.

“Yes, I take it off to eat and bathe and sleep and sometimes I take it off to talk to my son…” He sighs, “But at work, in the palace, in the eyes of other people, it stays on. Always.This is the way.”

“I still don’t understand why.” You tilt your head.

“It… protects us, it keeps our knighthood separate from our manhood, an it’s an ancient tradition practiced by Mandalorians, we do it to respect the culture.” He nods as he speaks.

“Hm, I half expected you to say it was just because you were ugly.” You giggle, and he shakes his head. This time, you knew he was smiling under all that metal.

“Compared to you, I am nothing.” You could hear his smile in his words. You blush and the butterflies in your stomach only grow. You pause for a moment, carefully considering what you were going to say next.

“Will you… will you kiss me?” You ask, looking up at him, he goes still.

“What?”

“Will you kiss me?” You repeat yourself. He doesn’t respond at first, and for a moment, you fear you’ve made a terrible mistake. You wanted him to, you wanted to know what he meant by “kisses are sacred”. He had plagued your mind ever since you first spoke to him and you already have far more affection in your heart for the Knight than for the Prince. You wanted to kiss him.

He sighs in response, and nods once, “Close your eyes, and keep them closed.” You blushed at his agreement.

“Okay.” You say, slowly closing your eyelids and patiently awaiting his next move, feeling triumphant that he agreed. Your body fills with adrenaline as you wait, trying to slow your heart rate with deep breaths.

“Promise to keep them closed?”

“I promise.” You whisper and a few seconds after, you hear the sound of metal hitting metal, and the hollow echo of his helmet being placed on the mattress by where you sit. It took everything in you not to open your eyes, you wanted to look at him, wanted to see his eyes. But you made a promise, you had made promises to each other and had to keep those promises.

Then, ever-so-gently, you feel his warm and forgiving lips against yours.

They’re soft and light, like he didn’t want to hurt you. You melted into his touch, and against your soft skin you felt his stubble run against it. It was rough in the most satisfying and loving sensation possible. He was much kinder than the Prince, so gentle, so true. It wasn’t a very long kiss, but it was more than a peck, and held more passion and intimacy in it than any of the hours you spent with your fiancé combined. He moved just slightly against you, and you felt his bare hand come up to hold your jaw in place as he deepened it for a split second before pulling away. As your lips parted from his, your breath was taken right with them, and you had to consciously remind yourself not to open your eyes.

“Keep them closed, okay?”

“Okay.” You nodded, trying to remember the feel of his kiss. “Thank you.” Your voice was broken, and you wanted another, but before you could ask, you felt the helmet lift off the bed and the sound of gloves being pulled onto hands.

“Open.” He said after a moment, and your eyes fluttered open to see the knighted figure in front of you. “You’re welcome.”

Part three here

475 notes · View notes

literaila · 4 years ago

Text

always, kitchen floor

loki x gn! reader

summary/request: reader is tony’s sibing, they’ve had a fight with him. loki just happens to be there... and again, a while later.

content warning: alcohol, fighting, sibling things, murder.

so you weren’t expecting the crash.

so you weren’t exactly the picture of grace on the floor.

so you weren’t supposed to be in here.

it’s not like he knew that. but what he did know was that as soon as he bashed into the room, you were falling towards the floor.

the small chuckle you could hear from behind the cabinet did not soothe any anger you were feeling. it was just digging itself a deeper hole in your chest, just making itself a home while whoever had scared you laughed along. it might’ve made you angrier.

“it’s alright,” an unrecognizable voice said, low and sour. someone was moving around. you didn’t even attempt to get up off the floor. you didn't care.

“i’ve been told i have that effect,”

an audible sigh from you made the movement stop.

you closed your eyes, rapped your head against the floor softly. this was only one of the many things you couldn't deal with right now. a human interaction, a conversation. an effort. maybe you’d drunk a bit too much, maybe this was a dream.

you really didn’t want to get up. you were hoping for a hallucination. anything non-real.

“do i know you?” you croak out instead of crying. at least, if you’re going to die, you’ll get to know who killed you. at least, if you have to do this now, you can call the bastard by their name.

“probably,” the voice sings out. perfect.

probably.

you stop your head, squeeze your eyes until they sting. you’re not sure why you’re not supposed to be in here again, but maybe it has something to do with this.

meeting perfect strangers you probably know.

“do you have a name?” you croak— again —your patience gone from every trace of your body. your effort extinguished from the fire that is building in your chest. the fire that's been there a while.

“the god of mischief.”

you sit up. only a little. just enough to lean your head towards the voice.

it’s not like you were expecting that response.

“excuse me?” you say in your half-deflated, half surprised voice. your neck is straining from the glance you’re trying to get at the voice, but you keep attempting to lift your head

the footsteps start again, and it’s only a moment before the person comes into view.

before you see them, you hear the bells ringing in your head. this isn’t your house, this isn’t their house. you don’t know this person, and you’re acting completely sane.

it’s honestly not that bad of a situation.

it only takes one more pinch of your ligaments for your eyes to meet their face.

for your brain to touch them with all the memories you have.

probably.

yeah, well, probably was right.

maybe you’re starstruck for a moment, maybe your eyes widen, and maybe you’re staring at this giant person in front of you for way too long.

it doesn’t matter, because in what seems like a second to you, you lay back down. close your eyes.

“i’ve seen you on the news,” you say, a nonchalant mention, a passing sentence.

you were wrong, then. an alien interaction.

the god of mischief— actually, if the news anchor from earlier had anything to say about it —is standing right next to you. right next to your practically dead body, and you don’t move an inch.

you’re sure you can feel his eyes on you, but you don’t check. who cares, anyway? hes going to kill you soon.

“have you?” he asks, an annoying disruption to your wallowing.

you grunt, don’t say anything else.

it’d be nice not to die in your own home. at least then no one will have to clean up any blood. they can sell the apartment again. it’d be nice to watch your brother's face as a ghost when he realizes. it’d be nice to get your revenge in the form of a bloodstain on the hardwood. it's a terrible thought that almost fills you with glee.

loki, who moves past you, opening cabinets and carrying around a ridiculous scepter (?) does not turn to look at you when he asks

“you’re not supposed to be here, are you?”

your snort is nothing more than a yes. is it really that obvious? i mean, yes, you look pretty bad, but that shouldn’t indicate to him that you’re in the wrong place.

he shouldn’t know that already.

“what makes you say that?”

loki puts down the bottle he’d been messing with, some expensive thing your brother would kill him for touching. not that you’re going to tell him that, you don't really mind. he turns and bangs his scepter against the ground, not completely on accident. “this countertop is engraved ‘tony stark’”

you roll your eyes, but he doesn’t notice.

“and, from what i’ve seen on the news” he teases the unfamiliar word around his lips “you aren’t him”

“ha,” you say, voice void of any emotion. it must really be that obvious, even to a god who has only been on earth for a few days and has never met you before. even to you, who’s been trying to catch up to tony for so long. “you’ve got me,”

you grab the bottle you have next to you, the bottle you’ve been cradling all night in your hands like its some childhood blanket you dont want to let go of, and take a sip. its hard on the floor, and that fact is maybe the only thing that could actually convince you to sit up at this moment.

so you do, and you look loki straight in the eyes while taking another sip.

theres still half a bottle left, you dont really need to slow down.

loki looks amused, looks so much less threatening than you would’ve thought after watching him get a group of well over a hundred people to kneel before him. so much less threatening without his words to back him up. or maybe, thats what makes him a villain.

he looks kind of cute.

“can i help you?” you say then, looking him in the eyes, bottle in hand. its your best impression of a salesperson, but he doesn't know that. hes just a god, after all, hes just a murder, definitely.

“actually yes,” he moves towards you, scepter banging, his voice a slow river. “i was looking for someone-”

“if its tony, you’re fresh out of luck, mr. mischief,” you sigh and stand up, pretending not to notice the substantial difference in heights between the two of you. “it would seem i’ve run him off,” you pause, take a sip, hold your finger up in a gesture for him to wait. “must’ve been my ceaseless charm.”

loki doesnt say anything, just watches you with irritating eyes and waits for you to take another drink. you do, but not because of him. you’re thirsty, obviously.

you hate that hes already predicting your movements, you hate that he looks so calm. you hate that if you werent still in your right mind you would probably tackle him without a moments notice.

still, you watch him anyway. this isnt scary. nothing is scary right now, not even the prospect of death and the murderer in the room. not when you’ve just been left alone in this stupid building while tony runs off to do something else.

not when your voice still hurts from screaming at him.

“when will he be back?” loki asks, interrupting your thoughts and looking you up and down. any other day, you might’ve taken it as a compliment, might’ve smiled at him.

“never, if i had anything to say about it.”

loki doesnt hesitate. “you seem awfully angry for such an angelic-looking person,”

you snort, turn around to go searching through the cupboards again. “and you seem awfully murdery for a god,”

“you’d be surprised,” he moves forward, leans his scepter against a chair, and continues to watch you. something about this, something about him is easing that feeling in your chest. the annoyance is almost gone, you know, if it werent for the fact that hes still certainly going to kill you.

you know that he’d brainwashed other people, maybe thats what was happening now.

you grunt instead of answer and grab a glass. its strange, this need you feel to keep him from murdering you. loki watches with curious eyes as you poor some of your bottle in the glass, then offer it to him.

in fact, his eyes almost bludge out of his head as soon as you lift it towards him.

“you’re giving this to me?”

you smirk instead of scoffing, as a peace offering. “is it really that obvious?”

he doesnt acknowledge the snide but takes the glass with careful hands. maybe he thinks humans have murderous cups. maybe hes just very untrusting. it doesnt matter, it makes you smile anyway.

you grab the bottle, now more than half gone, and take a sip as loki thinks deeply about this drink you’ve given him. at least he isnt asking you why you’re angry anymore.

“is it good?” he asks while staring at the contents of the glass.

“you could just try it, you know.”

he quirks a brow. sets the glass down on the counter. takes a step back. “how do i know you havent poisoned it?”

you set your bottle down, lean your hands on the counter, and lean closer to him in a challenge. “you, quite literally, just watched me pour it.”

loki considers this, tilts his head, and then steps forward and takes the glass. you laugh when he sniffs at it, but watch with hopeful eyes as he finally takes a sip.

then promptly gags.

“humans are disgusting creatures,” he says while gagging, moving far away from the glass.

“and thats why you’ve come to conquer us, right?” you’re still smirking, still sipping, and still wondering what the hell this god is doing here.

“think of it as a favor,” hes wincing, opening his mouth in what looks like an effort to get the taste out of his mouth. but still, he doesnt threaten you, doesnt curse you out, doesnt accuse you of poisoning him again. but then, he looks up. “in return, you might tell me where stark is?”

there. thats it. no threatening, no murdering, no accusation. but still, he just wants something. your brother, of course.

whats different from usual?

“i dont know,” you answer, smile gone, moving away. you make sure to take the bottle with you, wherever you turn to go. wherever you want to run away to.

you dont know, you’re not sure. this place is so big, and all of it is a prison you’ll never actually leave. the curse of blood relations.

loki though, stops you before you can even attempt to leave, before you can make your escape before you start sobbing to this god who isnt even here for you.

really, you should be thankful, really, you shouldnt care this much. really, you should’ve left ten minutes ago. you’re not even supposed to be here.

the thought fills you with dread. effort, effort and pain.

“you dont know?” he asks, doubtful. as if he knows you, as if he can already tell you’re lying. you scoff, then scoff again. damn the god of mischief, and damn your brother. arrogance does not look good on anyone.

you try to push past him, shaking your head with hurt eyes that arent really for him. you try to move forward, but hes so much bigger than you, and hes got the upper hand. he knows you wont try to murder him, no matter what he wants to do to everyone on earth.

“you are related to him, are you not?” another question, another shot of fuel to the fire that you thought had burned out. to the flame inside of you that doesnt seem to leave.

“i dont like that you know that,” you say it softly, much softer than you mean to, and without noticing take a step back. put up the walls, so to say. get away from this alien that knows more about you than you do him. guard yourself before you actually get hurt.

dont give him yet another reason to yell at you.

“its not hard to guess. you have...erm” he pauses, looking small, looking more nervous, looking anything but godly. “the same mannerisms. and you talk a bit like each other.”

you frown. dammit.

“also, the way you talk of him reminds me of my brother.”

you look up then, look up and see this god, this alien, this murderer that you dont even know. is he drunk now? you wouldnt have thought him to be such a light-weight.

“okay...” maybe you’re weirded out, or maybe you’re tired, but you try to move away from him anyway. this is effort, and you dont need it.

“you really dont know?” loki says, before moving out of your way. he sighs, looks defeated now. you’re not lying, but something in you kind of wants you to be. just so he’ll leave you alone, of course. just for some peace.

just so he stops frowning at the floor. god, you dont even know him.

and you, you just dont understand. hes the villain, hes evil, so why is he looking so innocent? why arent you scared of him? why havent you run in terror yet?

maybe you’re about to ask something, but loki moves first. he steps back, or forward, and grabs the glass you gave him, again. takes another sip. he doesnt gag this time, doesnt change his expression at all.

“i thought you hated it?” you ask, shocked by this small thing, hurt still, by his words. maybe by his defeated look.

loki sighs, smirks, does something with his face you cant comprehend. “its better with disappointment.”

now its your turn to sigh. you cant leave this alien alone in tony’s kitchen. that’d be rude, plus, curiosity is human.

its not his fault, really, that he needs to murder your brother.

you go back, back to the counter, back to the floor, back to loki with his sad eyes and your bottle. you just go back, sitting down on the floor, where you were when he came in, and waiting for him to join you.

it doesn’t take long, you can feel his cool from the five feet of distance between the two of you.

its a moment before you ask. “do you really need my brother? i can probably call him.” an olive branch, so to say.

loki laughs, chortles, something. maybe you’re feeling the effects of the alcohol now. he doesnt speak for a moment, just looks around, observing the room once again. you look with him, wait for his answer, hope its “no”.

“no, not really.” he pauses, sighs. “well, yes. but, you seem very opposed to seeing him, so i’m guessing talking isnt on the table?”

“you’d be right,” you take another sip, give him a smile you dont really mean.

you’re not even sure why you’re here now. this is surreal. this is stupid of you. its in the name.

“is he really as bad as he seems?” loki asks, tracing something on the floor. maybe gods are similar to humans, because you think you’ve seen this somewhere else.

you laugh, though, anyway, and forget everything. “not really. hes sort of a good person, he just.. doesnt come off well.” to say the least.

never has. never liked you much in the first place, but you have memories of him gifting you toys when you were kids. you have laughs, smiles. you had a family, once upon a time.

you dont tell loki that though, you have enough sense not to.

“i wonder if my brother would say the same thing about me?”

and something about the way he says it, something about his face, about his words on the news, all of it. all of it reminds you of where you are, reminds you of who you are, and who you’re trying so hard not to be.

emotionally compromised, you’re sure. this is a stupid thing to be doing.

“well, you were going to murder me.” its a joke, but its better than what you wanted to say. its better than the truth you want to tell to this stranger you’ve just met. this god who feels peaceful somehow, behind all the terror.

loki scoffs, so you know its okay, so you know you havent said the wrong thing yet. you know you havent gone insane, not yet, not now.

“i would never murder someone so beautiful,”

and maybe its the alcohol, maybe its your fight with your brother, maybe its loki’s kind words, maybe its everything. maybe you really are insane. maybe you’re angry enough for this to seem okay. maybe you’re stronger than you think, than tony thinks, to be here. maybe it’ll turn out okay.

it doesnt matter, because the next thing you say, changes lots of things.

“i guess you’re not so bad.”

“i’m old enough-”

“you’re a child.”

“tony, you dont get to decide whats best for me! in case you forgot, you’re only my brother. not my dad, he already died-”

“in case you forgot, i’m in charge. you’re the most irresponsible, reckless person, and you’re not leaving here until i say so.”

“you dont just get to decide-”

“you will stay here. try not to mess anything else up.”

2 years later.

the hallway is cold while you speed through it.

you’re not actually moving that fast, but everyone else insists on keeping the air conditioning on at all times, so even the slightest of movements invites the goosebumps to attack your arms.

maybe you’ll complain some more about it today. its a trivial thing you care about. it matters.

what else matters? well, theres a meeting-- one you’re late to, who cares? theres a meeting and you were supposed to be there over a half an hour ago.

but, to be fair, you were sleeping, everyone knows you were sleeping-- what else do you do during the days when they dont invite you anywhere? so why, honestly, would they schedule a meeting for now? why would they expect you to be awake?

why are you so goddamn late.

these are the irritating thoughts that get you moving faster to the conference room. these are the things you can think about while you prepare your excuse out loud, and hope that no one is listening.

and these are the thoughts that you’re thinking as you crash through the door.

literally.

“oops,” you mutter before looking up. this is normal for you, but, you could’ve picked a better time to fall on the floor, or any other time rather. you’re already in enough trouble as is, you dont need the shame on top of that.

it takes a moment, but your eyes glance forward, cautious. they scan the windows, the chairs you can barely see, and hesitantly, they look at the people sitting in them.

tony, of course, is the first one you see. head of the table as usual. arrogant and staring at you like only a brother can.

and then, with one more tilt of your head, you see someone else. you see him, sitting next to thor, next to all of these people who are staring at you-- most of them with amusement, all of them with amusement. you see him.

hes here.

but, you... you thought? you cant even get up-- now. because now you’re on the floor, and now those memories are flooding back and now, oh god, your brother is coming over to you and you’re still on the floor.

this is ridiculous, this is impossible, and this is so so embarrassing.

“loki,” tony starts as he reaches a hand out to you, throwing you a glance that is completely rude and not necessary. “this is y/n, our clumsiest avenger.” you’re sure you can hear him mutter something after that, and judging by the snickers across the room, you’re guessing it wasnt good. none of this is good.

as soon as you’re standing next to him, you elbow him. small enough no one could see. he deserves it, and honestly, you need it. at least, you can get this shock, these pricks of pain on your heart, out somehow.

“sorry,” you say, maybe to everyone, maybe to yourself. but you’re still looking at him, and hes still looking at you. you cant stop staring, cant stop, wont stop.

you wonder if hes thinking the same thing you are. if he remembers like you do.

loki stands then, presence of a god, smile of a bastard, lips that you’re sure you recognize. is this the same person? the same god of mischief? is this him? really?

“hi, loki, lovely to meet you.”

and, hes definitely got to be kidding you. hes definetly got to be joking, right now.

you dont reach out to grab his hand, you dont move away from tony, and you dont even try to hide the glare from your eyes. you dont even attempt to make an effort.

really? i mean, really? hes going to just..

okay, fine. fine. breathe, smile, breathe, yell.

theres nothing you want more than to scream at him, in so many ways, for so many reasons.

“yes, sorry, i dont shake hands. just bodies.”

theres a chorus of clearing throats across the room. you pretend not to notice. instead, you smile at loki, pretend to also not to notice the threatening eyes tony is trying to throw you. pretend, again and again, that you dont know who this is.

loki’s hand slowly falls, and he glances toward his brother worriedly, but even that couldnt annoy you more than his face does at this moment.

“i’ll let you decide how, my prince.” you snide, smile, hate.

and then, you walk to your sit and promtly sit down. you dont bother to look up from where your glance has landed on the floor.

and you remain like that for the rest of the meeting. its fine, you’ve already missed half of it anyway.

who cares?

“no, but really, where’d you get that?”

“its asgardian,” loki leans forward, teasing you with his raised eyebrows.

“i want it. how much?” you lean forward as well, completely serious. alcohol be damned, his scepter will be yours. you’re not one to kid.

“you cant bargain with me, tiny human. you have nothing i want.”

“im sure i could think of a few things... you dont even know how to be a proper villain!” you exclaim with a smirk of your own “you’re gonna want money when you’re thrown in jail.”

“ill just take it off of you when i’ve decided im bored and offed you. plus, i’m a prince. and a god. i dont need money for anything.”

“ha! like i could ever bore you. you seem awfully interested in me, prince loki.”

you’re both closer, faces inches apart. really, its just the alcohol talking, but still.

you’re smiling pretty big.

you’re not sure how you got here again. how you ended up on this floor, in this kitchen, with this bottle, with these thoughts. not sure, but still. you cant really bring yourself to care too much.

at least your throat doesnt hurt this time. at least you’re older, smarter, and most definitely not drunk. at least its not exactly the same.

it takes more than that, now. it takes more than anything to make you angry, now. it takes a lot more to push you over the edge. you’ve grown, at least, in that aspect.

but, you’ve been thinking of this for two years, you’ve been watching and waiting with hopeful eyes and this... this just isnt it. this isnt the dream, this isnt anything like what you’ve wanted.

you’re still brainwashed and you’re still angry. you’ve been on the edge of the cliff for years now.

it doesnt take much to fall off.

you dont even know why, why you’re here, why this is happening, and its making it worse.

you havent even seen him in two years, so why do you care so much if he wants to pretend that you’ve never met? you havent so much as spoken of him in two years, so why does it matter now that hes here? why is it so significant that he doesnt seem to care?

you’re a fool. immature, idiotic. you’ve known this, you know this. you could’ve mentioned it every time you sat with hopeful eyes when an alien showed up, when a certain god of a certain storm appeared and you thought that maybe this time, he might’ve taken someone with him.

you could’ve told yourself this every time you thought of him, every day you’ve thought of that night. you’re ridiculous, hopeless, and drunk.

you’re drunk now, and you were drunk then. so why does it matter this much?

you’re drunk.

and really, this time you really arent expecting it when he walks in.

its different from last time, different because you were already on the floor. different because now you’re mad at him, and because now for some reason you cant even explain, you know that its him. you can feel him from across the room.

and this time, you’ve drunk a lot more. you’ve downed more than half a bottle, and you’re angrier. you’re happier, but so mad.

still, his quiet “hello” into the kitchen leaves your flame sparking. the lights are on, so he knows someone is in here. he knows you’re in here.

you’re not going to answer though, why would you?

he doesnt repeat it, but his footsteps are clear, not accompanied with the banging of a gold scepter this time, no horns in sight. this is different, but you know exactly whats happening. you know exactly how he looks, now.

these two years have felt like nothing, these two years of making up with your brother, of dreams of a certain god’s lips, of hoping that one day he might appear again, all of it means nothing now. there are too many memories, and you have known you’re insane for years.

the footsteps stop again, and you know this time, hes waititng for you to answer.

you’re drunk. that explains this feeling. you’re drunk now, you were drunk then. loki should leave because you really dont have the energy for fake pleasantries.

“can i help you?” you ask, and try and breathe while you wait. you’re different now.

“actually yes,” he says and its quiet.

it leaves your stomach aching.

“i’m looking for someone,”

“no! never, i will never ever-”

“technically, you just did,”

“i hate you.”

loki laughs, throws his head back in a motion that is unnecessarily attractive to you. “you dont even know me, darling.”

“i can hear your thoughts, actually.”

you’ve been leaning on him for maybe the past five minutes. you’ve been sharing this second bottle for the last half an hour. somehow, it tastes better when he’s put his lips on it.

“is this a human trait i’m unaware of?” he sounds so serious you giggle.

“no, just me. you picked the wrong person to drink with,”

“and what am i thinking about now, then, since you can hear it?”

you turn to him, you turn and theres something different in your eyes.

“exactly what i’m thinking,” you whisper, staring down, staring at him in the same way hes staring at you.

what are you thinking of? well, thats simple.

“fresh out of luck, prince. theres no one here.”

your voice is quiet, your head is pounding, but you cant have a hangover already. you cant be sick now, in this moment.

its not pounding because of that, and you cant even pretend.

its dark outstide, which you know, considering that its the middle of the night and you shouldnt even be awake. you shouldnt even be in here, considering tony banned you from stealing from his cabinets. considering, you’ve been here before. considering, all of it.

arent you only supposed to make the same mistake once?

“really?” he asks in an amused voice you recognize. hes closer now, you can feel it. you can hear it, the goosebumps are all over you. the buzzing started minutes ago.

you lay down, on the floor, breathing in and out, feeling your stomach clench with every step he takes. this is ridiculous, you should be asleep, he should be on a different planet.

“its late. go to bed, loki.” your voice is still quiet, but theres a warning in it.

“i have a vague inkling that you arent strict with bedtime,”

his voice is stupid, you’re stupid. why are you just sitting on the floor?

“no, but i am strict about lying. in that, i hate it. go away.”

maybe he wasnt expecting the sharpness in your voice, or for you to be laying on the floor. but his eyes when he stands over you, his eyes are almost how you remember them.

“did you brainwash me?”

you’re breathless. you cant breathe. and you cant be drunk now, because you never want to forget this, you never want him to move away.

he tastes alien, he tastes different than anything you’ve ever tasted before, and you just cant stop.

you lean in again, let your mouth be filled with the sweet cold of his. hes cooling you down in only the best kind of way.

“not yet,” he says, he says and lets his hands roam across your hips, across your skin in a completely tantalizing way. you cant be drunk now, because you’d never feel like this if you were.

you’re both breathless. you both cant breathe.

“are you going to?”

another kiss, another moment, another taste. you want to smile, but that would require you to move away from him, and you just cant do that.

“i dont need to,” he says, he promises. he smiles, and its evil. evil in how much it stops your heart. this cant be happening. “you’ve been dreaming of this.”

you’re sure, he knows something you dont. hes done something to you, but you cant complain.

you really can’t stop.

“are you upset?” he asks. its nothing he would’ve said before, its not a question that would’ve crossed his mind two years ago. this isnt him.

you dont know how you know that, but you do. you know. you’ve met him before, and you’ve known him since then. in case he forgot.

you laugh at the thought, laugh and laugh. you’re drunk. “is that sympathy i detect in the god of mischief’s voice?” you ask, and laugh.

maybe he’ll leave just because you’re laughing so much. wouldnt that be nice? wouldnt that break your heart again, off you for good, finally?

“well, you’re definitely intoxicated.” its sarcastic, its serious, and it makes your blood boil. who is he to judge you? who is he to say anything to you? to be here now, and expect you to answer questions?

you sit up, stare at him for too long, and then your face is a scowl hotter than the sun. you hope hes terrified, but you feel so small. you hope hes terrified, but you know hes not. how could he be, when you’re sure you look like a mess, worse than last time?

“you would know a lot about that, wouldnt you loki? considering you were so drunk that you’ve forgotten all about me?” its rhetorical, its cruel, and it makes his eyes falter the tiniest bit.

this. this is what you dont need. this is an emotion you never want to feel again, because you’re tired of the anger. you’ve been living it all your life, and you’e tired of it. but maybe thats what drew loki to you, maybe thats what he likes best. maybe thats why hes still standing in front of you.

maybe thats what makes him a bad guy.

he doesnt answer, and so you continue. you continue and you should just stop speaking. “excuse me, your highness, but i really just want to be alone right now. so, if you wouldnt mind, i’ve already claimed the kitchen floor.” you laugh, gesture somewhere you dont know. “tony has plenty of other spaces for you to infiltrate.”

you think maybe its enough. you think hes going to leave, you think you’ll get to be alone for the rest of the night, maybe drink enough to forget that you ever met him, but then hes still standing there. he doesnt move an inch.

you dont know what hes still doing here. you can see the light reflecting on his face, you can see his blank eyes, you cant see anything in him that you want anymore. of course, except everything.

“loki,” you groan and stand up. you set the bottle on the counter next to you, and cross your arms. waiting. for anything, for everything.

“i didnt forget you, and i wasn’t drunk.”

oh, really? you scoff, scoff and take another sip before answering.

“well, thats lovely for you, but-”

“i was trying to be considerate, in case you didnt want your brother to know we’d already met.”

some part of you, one you left behind two years ago when you woke up all alone, some part of you thinks thats sweet. some part of you wants to smile just because he said it. some part of you.

the other part, just wants to scream.

“well, thanks loki, but ‘considerate’ would’ve been, maybe, not leaving me to wake up alone in the morning.”

really, its time for bed now, so, promptly, you try to past him, you try and try and.

you’re back in the past again. goddamn, him.

“we shouldnt be-” you gasp before you can finish. you gasp and loki laughs against your skin. “this is a kitchen-”

“there are worse places,” he promises in an awfully smooth voice, a voice you think you’ve maybe been dreaming of for years, a voice you want to drink. you’re intoxicated, and its not the alcohol.

“loki, i’m drunk, you’re drunk.”

“i am not drunk,”

“okay, mr. god, but this is still a kitchen.”

he smiles up at you, kisses your skn again.

“shh,” he says.

you gasp again.

“..i had to leave. i didnt think it would...” he stops, stares at you for a moment before looking down. hes standng in front of you, not letting you move, not letting you think. “i didnt think it would worry you. i’m terribly sorry,”

it sounds sincere, but then again, so did his promises before.

“okay, loki.” you relent, you sigh, you take a step back and smile at him. none of it is real. “cool, thats nice. i’ll be going to bed now-”

“i’ve wanted to see you for two years,”

your mouth drops open. your eyes buldge, and you almost want to smack him. this, this is really all grand.

this is so unfair. this is a cruel reminder you never wanted. this is a nightmare, come true.

“i’m drunk. i’m leaving,”

but again, he stops you, he stops you and you dont know why. why he wont just let you go, why he sought you out tonight, why this matters, why you care.

why you got so goddamn attached to him that night, why you’d felt like a new person when you woke up the next morning and he was gone.

you take a breath in. you smile again, you push down the flames burning at your throat. “we can both forget it, if you’d prefer. i promise i wont tell anyone, and we can just move on.”

the words, the words you’re trying to offer him as a method of peace, those words, they send loki away from you. they make his face shift, they make him move back.

he looks angry now. he looks how you feel.

“you want to forget it?” he asks, even though you just said it, even though you’ve already answered that question. even though, he knows what you meant.

you arent slurring your words.

“i just want to...” you cant finish that sentence though, and instead you nod. its enough, it doesnt take effort and its nothing special. it’s the truth, so, he’ll have to accept it.

you’ll go to bed now, you’ll forget that you’ve wanted to talk to him, that you still want to kiss him now. you’ll forget, and so will he.

it will be easy. nothing more than a piece of cake.

“i’m sorry,” he whispers later, later when you cant remember your name, when you’ve remembered that you still havent even told him.

“for what?”

he kisses your neck instead of answering.

‘you’re beautiful,” he says, you cant breathe, and hes still speaking. “i didn’t tell you before,” he breathes in and you can feel it in your stomach, can feel that sweet swirling deep inside. “i’m sorry”

“don’t worry about it..”

its late now, too late. you dont want to go to sleep. you never want to fall asleep again, not when you’ve just..

not with him.

the kitchen floor is awfully comfortable. your eyes are falling, faster than you want them to.

“just want to what?” hes not hearing the words, and no matter what you might’ve said, you cant read his mind.

“loki,” its another warning, because hes moving closer, because you can feel him again, because you still remember how he tastes. because that buzzing, the buzzing you’ve felt for so long, its digging itself deeper into your skin.

“i dont want to forget,” he saiys, and no matter how much you want to believe it, it just sounds like another empty promise. sounds like something you’ve already heard.

its not enough, but its just want you want. what you want is just there..

“i was drunk that night, i was sick. i was...”

angry is the word you’re thinking of, but his lips are the ones you can feel. but his smile is the one you want, but his eyes, but his face, but his skin.

his lips, his face, his skin, his touch. its been in your mind since then. its been glued to your thoughts. its stuck, and you want to peel it off.

you arent supposed to be here, you arent supposed to be in this room, you arent supposed to be drinking this liquor, and you arent supposed to kiss him.

you’ve gone insane for sure now. you aren’t supposed to do this.

and so, you do.

you’re on the floor when you wake up. your head is pounding, your eyes are glued shut, but somehow they’re open.

you dont remember where you are, you dont remember why you’re here.

but you do remember... loki. loki, murderer, god, thief. he was here, you’re in the kitchen.

his eyes, his lips, his peace, his lips, his skin, oh god.

he was here.

you look, you look around, you feel the pain in your body, you feel the anger piling up, you feel the ache in your neck, you feel it all and you look around.

hes gone. he is.

your head is pounding and hes gone. you cant remember why.

masterlist here.

#loki imagine #loki spoilers #loki x you #loki #loki x gender neutral reader #loki x gn!reader #loki x reader fluff #loki x reader #loki layfeyson x reader #loki layfeyson x you #loki layfeyson imagine #loki laufeyson #marvel fanfic #loki (marvel)

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thran-duils · 4 years ago

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Total Eclipse (P.1)

Title: Total Eclipse (Part One) Summary: Fem!Reader x Sherlock Holmes (RDJ). Sherlock had an impression on the reader from a formative age but he was always so busy running with cases. Their moments of passions were coveted between the two but they were few and far between. He left with Watson on a case and in that time, her parents found her a suitable man to give her to. Wealthy and accomplished. Sherlock and her have not been able to let go of each other though. Words: 1,816 Warnings (for the whole fic): Angst, infidelity, smut, swearing, substance abuse, non liner storyline, character death, 18+ as always Author’s Note: more warnings may be added for other chapters. As always, 18+. Also, the song inspo is def Total Eclipse of the Heart but its the Blvck Ceiling remix!

Part Two || Masterpost (mobile) || Fanfic masterpost

The carriage came to a stop outside the glove shop in front of you. It matched the description on the note that had mysteriously found its way into your cosmetics bag at home last night. And as the note had said, the gloves you picked up were already paid for. A practical gift from an absurdly practical man. One you could easily explain away to your husband as a gift he had simply given to you that he had forgotten that he had. He gifted items to you so often, it would not be hard to have this small token pass under his radar. Small to him but it was a symbol of a large wedge in your marriage, and it would always be.

The door opened and Sherlock was leaning out, smiling coyly. “May I offer you a ride, ma’am?”

“Do you even know where I am going?”

“Well, no. But if you would tell me…” You kept your face neutral at his toying and told him the address. He smiled broadly and said, “What a coincidence. I am heading that way and it looks like it might rain…” He turned his eyes skyward. It was cloudy. What a coincidence indeed. There was playfulness in his eyes as he pressed, “Ma’am?”

Sighing, you took his hand and let him help you into the carriage. He swung the door closed and tapped the wall behind him. The carriage took off.

“My, I’m pleased I was able to assist you,” Sherlock started cordially. “That is quite a lovely gown. Persian silk, is it not?”

“It is,” you answered stiffly.

You hated the games he played. He was going to pick you apart just for his own amusement now. Comment on all your riches simply because he had such a keen eye for everything with his travels and his intellect. And also because he liked you to remember how intelligent he was; it was something about him that had drawn you in in the first place. It still impressed you but now you knew it was him simply being petty more than anything. He wanted you and he wanted it badly. He was superior to your husband intellectually and always would be, something that would eat away at you. And besides intellect… Sherlock knew how to work your body like a well-tuned clock. This was foreplay for him. Assessing everything that had been going on with you in his absence since your last tussle in the sheets.

“Hmm. What lengths your family or husband must have gone to to acquire that fabric. You must really be special. Or they’re just woefully arrogant about their wealth.”

You shot him a disapproving look and he merely smirked briefly.

“I think it’s the latter personally. But what do I know? I haven’t seen you for four months.”

“Yes. What do you know?” you quipped.

“How is your son?” he returned quickly.

“With the nanny.”

“How aristocratic.”

“You never wanted children,” you told him tightly, getting tired of his questioning.

You knew why you were here. He was jealous still, even more so that you had had a child. And especially a child that was not his. He had been on a case across Europe at the time of conception… leaving no doubt about the father. But he was here now, wanting what he always wanted. A piece of you.

The two of you grasped at whatever pieces of the other you could get to hold close.

“Presumptive. We don’t know each other,” Sherlock replied, shooting you a look. You glared back and he merely simpered in response. “You look tired of the games.”

“I can’t even begin to describe how tired I am.”

The shades were drawn immediately by him, leaving the two of you in almost total darkness.

He was on you in a second and he pulled you close. “And how lonely?”

“Did you really shut yourself inside for four months?” you hissed back at him, as his hands played with the buttons of your bodice. “You are one to talk about loneliness! Watson told me!”

“I was only inside for two,” Sherlock responded lightly, as if that made it any better. “I had a case I did. But… two months inside was nothing. Why are you making such a big deal out of it? And why is Watson tattling to you?”

His hands were running up your sides, holding you close. His breath was hot, and he was coming in quickly. He claimed your mouth with his, the kiss deep and passionate. His tongue slipped past your lips, swirling and you responded in like. The two of you were panting with the intensity, hands grasping tightly on each other.

Sherlock managed to pull you down to the floor of the carriage and you hit him in protest. “My skirts! The dirty floor!”

“Say you fell. Make up a story of a heroic war hero – think of Watson for inspiration – helped you up off the cobble stone. It’ll make a great dinner story,” Sherlock spoke in hushed tones as he turned you around.

Your hands hit the opposite seat, chest planted firmly against it. Your heart was beating loudly in anticipation of the pleasure you were about to engage in. And the excitement that you truly could be caught at any moment if the carriage stopped for any reason.

Sherlock’s lips were at your neck, kissing up earnestly. He sucked deeply and you knew to let him; he knew the rules. He would never suck hard enough to leave a mark. No matter how much he wanted to. He nipped at your ear before circling back down; you turned your head to let him pull you back into a kiss.

He took this distracted opportunity to pull away, leaving you in a haze as he pushed your skirts up. You had done specifically as he liked and he was impressed.

“No undergarments,” Sherlock commented quietly his hands gripping the sides of your ass. “That’s very inappropriate and screams hussy in society. But… it’s very appropriate for me. I’m just delighted.”

“Will you get on with it?” You said impatiently. He always spoke so much and at the most inopportune time.

He chortled at you. “Always rushing. It’s what got you into your marriage in the first place, my love.”

His fingers traced. Running down between your thighs and pressing your legs open as you huffed indignantly at his rude comment. He always had to talk down about the situation you had found yourself in as a woman, no less. He knew why you had given in and still!

“And the fact—oh!” You gasped loudly at the last.

Sherlock’s fingers had dipped into your folds. He laughed quietly and warned you.

“Quiet now, dear. I paid the driver for discretion about who was in the carriage. Not discretion about any gossip he might hear. We should hurry it up though. We’ve taken three turns which means there are only four left. About fifteen minutes.”

Sometimes it paid off how perceptive he was but it still annoyed you right now when all you wanted to do was get off.

“How I wish I could turn around and sink onto you. That would ensure this would be done quickly,” you hissed at him.

You felt him at your entrance immediately and he pushed in. You groaned and he did in turn too. He filled you to the brim and sat stationary for just a moment, seeming to cherish the feeling before pulling out and setting himself a good pace. You pressed back onto him and one of his arms came to hold you tight across your chest. He still laid sloppy kisses along your exposed skin at your neck as he fucked you.

“Another turn,” you said sarcastically, just to rile him up.

And it worked.

He increased his pace in response, driving deeper. You lost your breath, fingers digging into the carriage seat as his teeth sunk in slightly. Bastard. He was pressing the rules just to teach you a lesson to be quiet and let him work.

His hand slipped back down to toy at your nub and your breath quickened.

Sherlock’s hand slapped across your mouth in anticipation. You hated he could read you so damn well. You moaned against his hand, your cunt clenching around his cock. His fingers dug in on your cheek, struggling to hold your pleasure in as you came undone as you were drawing it out of him with your tightness. He grunted loudly, sputtering. And then he was spasming just like you.

The third turn. The two of you felt and you were away from each other in a messy way. You pulled yourself back up onto the seat, touching at your hair. No, that was fine. He was always careful to not mess that up unless you two were spending the night together.

Across from you, Sherlock straightened at his waist coat. “The ball two days from now—” he started to say.

“It’s a masquerade.” You straightened your skirts out and sad back down on the carriage seat opposite him. You pressed them down further and did not miss the amused expression on his face.

“I’m quite aware, darling. Perfect opportunity.”

“For you to greet everyone? Come out of your shell?” you returned.

A smirk tugged at his lips. “Watson told me I should.”

“I’m telling you that you should.”

“And that is enough.”

He had a sincere look in his eyes.

In your tryst, the rain truly had started to fall, a steady beat on the top of the carriage.

You had only been married for less than two years. And god, how you wished it was to him. But that was never to be.

The carriage came to its final turn and your house was so close. Your big… big house. It was so empty. The two of you were locked in a gaze just as the carriage came to a stop.

Swallowing sharply, you grabbed your purse off the bench beside you and said loudly, “Thank you for your courtesy. My husband would have been angry if this silk had been ruined in the rain.”

“You better run quick since there’s no butler here to greet you.”

“Ass,” you snapped, and he smiled again. You hated his smug smile so much, but you cherished seeing it too all the same. You climbed out, reluctantly taking his hand to help.

“You didn’t even say ‘welcome back’.”

He was actually pouting.

“You’ve already made yourself at home, dear,” you quipped.

You slammed the carriage door in his face and heard him chuckle from inside.

Turning, you went up the pathway quickly to the gate and threw it open, not bothering to look back. You knew you would see him again at the ball. The light rain was no bother.

~~~

Marvel tags: @coconutqueen21 @undecidedsworld @holl2712 @agustdowney @biiskuitx @buttercupfangirl

also @mcnegan if you are interested haha!

(THIS IS THE ONLY TIME I’LL USE THE MARVEL TAG, OTHERWISE I’LL TAG SPECIFIC PEOPLE AFTER THIS SINCE IT IS NOT MARVEL, AND JUST AN RDJ CHARACTER! If you wanna be tagged, let me know! :D)

#sherlock holmes x reader #sherlock holmes x you #sherlock holmes fic #sherlock holmes x ofc #rdj sherlock holmes #sherlock holmes #my shit

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ilcaeryx · 4 years ago

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Cascade [Gojo Satoru/Reader]

Summary: Satoru picks you up after a wild night in Tokyo’s party districts. While he’s dying to be more than your close friend, he won’t act until he’s certain you want him, too.

Tags: Gojo Satoru/Reader, Cute, Fluff, Humor, Slight angst, Nightlife, Pining, Pre-relationship

Word Count: Almost 2k

Author’s Note: Feels good to complete something. I listened to The Rose’s cover of ILYSB while writing this.

---

Gojo Satoru’s 1AM drive to one of Tokyo’s nightlife district was strictly for serious business. While he would fit into the crowd of youthful people enjoying the neon stinging their eyes and body contact with at least four strangers at all times, he had zero intentions on partying. Indeed, his sole mission was to retrieve a package – that package being you.

Lulled into rumination by the car engines constant humming, Satoru pondered about your occupation of his mind. Even though his days were busy, he would associate the concept of you with quite literally anything. Bickering with the higher ups? He could envision himself cranking up the drama as he told you the story, smiling smugly inwards at you cooking him comfort food to soothe ‘his stressful day’. Whenever something hilarious or crazy happened, he would automatically think ‘I’ll tell Y/N this later’. One would expect it would annoy him but it was not the case; Satoru was entertained by his daily fantasies, very much enthralled by the walking-on-clouds-feeling his body would produce during his mental escapades. If one Y/N thought equalled one endorphin molecule, he was experiencing a cascade.

His first thought after awakening every morning was your face between his palms, his fingers frigid against your temples. If things between you two ever developed, one day your face would be his first experience that day, every day for the rest of his life. Right now, Satoru would pin your relationship as close friends. As much as he would overinterpret your behaviour towards him, he was quite certain you were not interested in discovering whatever else could unfold between the two of you. Not yet, his positive inner self protested. Maybe never, his negative inner self retorted.

Despite his conflicting emotions, he gathered himself up into a presentable version of himself while he walked to the nightclub your friend had mentioned. Your safety was his number one priority right now, regardless if you were into him romantically or not.

~~~

“Text me when you’re home!” you yelled over the pulsating music, bidding your friend farewell by blowing her a kiss. In a dramatic motion, she caught the invisible kiss in her palm and clutched it against her chest.

“I will! Stay safe, bitch!” she screeched back before submerging into the human current outside the club, her cursed energy swashing to and fro like a solar flare.

Even though his evening had been a cozy movie-night in his bedroom, Satoru’s limbs felt heavy from looking at you. With your shoulders drooping and hands massaging your left thigh, you were finally punished from dancing non-stop all evening. Indeed, your hair clung to your forehead, neck and upper arms, intermingling with the shining perspiration on your skin. Nevertheless, you seemed to relish in whatever banger was playing inside as you were gently swaying side to side.

“I know what you’re thinking,” you said, pre-emptively shushing him with your index finger in the air. “But I’ll take a shower once I’m home.”

“I was actually thinking that I should’ve brought a towel, considering that your sweat’ll soak the car seat,” he said and tucked some slick strands away from your face. Your mortified look cracked him up. “It’s fine, I’ll lend you my jacket.”

“Your expensive-ass jacket? Thanks, I’d rather freeze to death.”

He rolled back his shoulders as he slid his jacked halfway down his back, hands still in his pockets. A little disappointment tinged his tongue. “Are you sure? I warmed it up just for you.”

“Yeah, stop stripping and let’s get the hell out of here.” You smacked his back with an open hand, pushing him onwards. “God, I can’t wait until we get home. I’m so tired. Are we going to your place?”

Let’s not read into anything, Satoru thought. ‘Anything’ meant both your off-hand comment about his place and the fact that your hand remained steady on his back even after you two joined the crowd. Physical closeness wasn’t anything new between you but the context provided another layer of complexity to read into. Suddenly, being the completely sober adult in charge seemed like too heavy a responsibility for him...

Without meaning to, his back tensed up. “No, you weirdo. You can sleep off the alcohol in your own bed.”

You either weren’t bothered by his tenseness or you didn’t notice, as you shifted your hand around his waist. You carefully leaned against his arm. “Sounds boring. Don’t you want to talk all night?”

Like always, your presence burned his arm, enough that he was unable to feel the strangers he bumped into on his other side. This was a sign, right? Or were you flirting as a friend? In the past, he had people confess their ‘love’ for him and apparently they thought his teasing and touching meant he fancied them. Being extremely lovable wasn’t easy, especially not when any platonic affection could be re-constructed as romantic by the other part. You, too, were extremely lovable and affectionate… Had he been in your shoes, this proximity wouldn’t have had any romantic subtext. But unlike him, you had a good personality… This could be the night you two finally spoke about whatever was between you two.

Or the night where you lose a friend because of your stupidity, his negativity brought up.

It had a point. Yeah, you were a good person and a terrific friend – he’d be an idiot if he lost you. Compared to his co-workers and allies, you were awfully soft; he liked how you doted on him, even when he was a pain in the ass. If you rejected him now, your dynamic wouldn’t be the same and his life would be much harder for it.

“We can talk later today,” he said, his arm automatically shooting out to stop an accidental elbow-right-into-your-chest-accident. He settled his arm around your shoulder after giving the guy the evil guy through his glasses. Watch your limbs, man.!

“That was close,” you said, sighing. “Thank you, Satoru! I’m sorry about having to call you out this late, by the way. Did I wake up you?”

He both cursed and rejoiced on the inside now that you changed subject. “Couldn’t be helped that your friend had an emergency. Next time, try to wake me up later for an early breakfast instead.”

“Next time, you’re coming with us.”

His lips faltered slightly, smile not feeling as genuine. He adjusted the collar on his jacket to hide it. “To the nightclub?”

Your index finger jabbed into his side accusingly. “Anywhere! Last time we hung out was… uh…”

This was the first time in a few weeks you two had spoken in person by yourselves. As you both mostly met together with your friends, you tended to invite him whenever the gang planned something. He admitted to himself that he often declined because he only wanted your company, but you never offered to join him instead. Whenever he invited you out, you’d be perfectly alright with hanging out just the two of you, though.

“Two weeks ago?” He squinted into the lights of an incoming car. “It’s because of work but-“

“I’m not a hikikomori, you bastard – I’ve got a job too, but I’ll make time for you, you know?”

You’d make time for anyone, Satoru thought, somewhat discouraged.

The crowd thinned out as you entered the parking lot, though the place was jam-packed with cars. Both of you remained quiet as you passed by couples on the way to Satoru’s car. When you detached yourself from his side, he rustled your hair. You stood on your tippy-toes to return the favour, messing up his hair worse than he did yours. He liked seeing you struggle to reach his head, so he didn’t mind.

“I missed you, scarecrow,” you said, pinching his cheek. He elongated his smile to feel one knuckle touch his lips. “What is the gremlin and scarecrow duo without the scarecrow?”

~~~

Slumped against the window, you were peaceful the entire ride home. Every so often, Satoru would catch a glimpse of your sleepy face and his heart would clam up. He made the right decision in picking you up, even though he aged weeks in those twenty minutes you two had spoken. Your interactions followed a pattern: he’d look forward to meeting you, creating fantasies and expectations of what could be; when you were with him, he would attempt not to ruin your current friendship to the point where he’d feel sick; and whenever you two parted, he’d overindulge in his memories. In two days, he’d be prepared to undergo this rollercoaster once again.

He drove into your street and called your name.

You immediately woke up and looked outside. “What time is it?”

“Almost 2AM…” he exhaled deeply, hands falling into his lap. He still had to drive home, so he’d be in bed in 30 minutes.

“Everything hurts,” you said, bending forward to readjust your high heels. “My legs are killing me… I won’t be able to walk tomorrow. I’m not sure I can walk now.”

He understood what the lilting tone at the end of your sentence meant and with great effort he stepped out of the car. Your giddiness as he opened the car-door on your side was intoxicating, as was the feeling of seeing you stretch your arms towards his neck. He cradled one arm below your thighs and one behind your back.

“Watch your head,” you chided softly into his ear, covering the top of his head as he carried you out of the car.

“Gimme keys.” Satoru leaned slightly backwards to account for your weight as you handed him the key to your apartment. With your bare arms against his neck, he would be surprised if you didn’t notice how his pulse rose.

Your apartment door opened and he stepped into darkness, shutting it behind his back.

“Excuse me,” he mumbled, heading for your bedroom with his shoes on. Your teeny apartment had a teeny bedroom with a single sized bed.

“Say, Satoru,” you said, your cheek pressed below his ear, “are you sure you don’t want to stay and talk?”

“Just go to sleep, Y/N.” Satoru leaned over your bed to carefully lay you down. Your grip on his neck loosened and he thought you’d comply until you kissed his neck, his soul almost as soft as your lips.

“What about now?” you asked and released your arms, falling onto your bed. Your hair spilled around you, a gloria around your tired face. “I’ll let you sleep in my bed, if you want to.”

Honestly, he wanted this. Everything he’d thought of earlier this night could become true if he gave in, which was insane enough to send his head swimming. He’d endure this cramped bed for you, even with his feet being colder than hell and his back aching from sleeping on his side. Gojo Satoru was more than ready.

However, he did not want this to backfire. What if you were simply too horny, lonely, exhausted or intoxicated to consider the consequences right now?

You rolled towards the wall, leaning on your side. Your eyelids fluttered weakly, your exhaustion almost overtaking your body and yet you found enough strength to pat the empty space beside you. “See, there’s space. I’ll always leave space for you.”

Ah, fuck it.

Satoru’s personality was bad; his attitude was self-indulgent; his morality was concrete grey; and his discipline when it came to you near non-existent. If you awoke tomorrow and found that you had fallen asleep with the love of your life – then great, you were both on the same page. If he had completely misunderstood your intentions, he would absolutely bullshit his way out of trouble, like he always did. Whatever, everything’d be alright someday.

---

If you enjoyed this, give me a like/follow/reblog/comment/scream into the void. I hope everyone had a good New Year and let’s hope that 2021 is kind.

Started this 22/11/2020, finished 10/01/2021.

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #gojo x reader #gojo satoru #jjk #gojo satoru x reader #jjk reader inserts

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angstyaches · 4 years ago

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Half of All Bus Rides

There was interest expressed in motion sick Payton, so here they are! It’s quite long and I’m not adding a cut because cut fics don’t seem to get as much interaction for some reason.

CW: motion sickness, anxious sickee, emetophobia (secondary character who does not actually see or experience the emeto), burping and a little hiccupping, heavy on the stomach noises.

___

Countryside and highway flashed by as though the bus had been doing two hundred kilometres per hour instead of the eighty-five it was actually doing. Payton’s head was spinning at almost the same speed, and they were drinking deeply of the dry air from the vehicle’s air conditioning system, drawing breaths deep into their lungs before slowly letting them go.

They certainly did not feel sick. Nope. There was no way that motion sickness could possibly be hitting on their first trip with Autumn as their girlfriend. Their stomach must have been clenching from nerves. Of course; a five-hour long bus ride was a big deal. Sharing close quarters. Needing to be funny and interesting, while also being careful not to annoy her. Yeah, it was just a lot of pressure and Payton was overthinking.

“I still think it’s weird,” Autumn mumbled, her head tucked against Payton’s shoulder.

They looked at her, grateful that her eyes were shut so she wouldn’t see how washed-out they inevitably looked. “What, baby?”

“You know. Lucy.” Autumn gave a dazed shrug. “It’s weird that we know nothing about the relationship, and yet here we are, going all-expenses-paid because of someone she’s sleeping with?”

Oh, right. The two of them had been talking about Lucy’s mysterious romantic life before Payton had spaced out. They made a low sound in their throat that they hoped would convey agreement as well as finality. They were too dizzy and uncomfortable to keep making conversation, but they knew that if Autumn tried to keep talking, they would force themself to keep up.

“Is it okay if I go for a little nap?” Autumn’s voice sounded tiny, and it made Payton’s heart flutter.

“Go ahead,” they said, trying to settle their own head comfortably against the headrest.

Every time she woke from dozing, her head was a little lower on Payton’s torso, until eventually her ear was pressed right against their stomach. It was much more comfortable than their chest, where the clasp of their dungarees had been digging into her head.

Next time she woke, it was to a symphony of gurgling, but it was so soft that it barely drew her out of her nap. She simply stirred, eyelashes fluttering open and closed again, nuzzling her cheek instinctively against Payton. The noise started up under her head again, which made her frown and shift again. Why was her pillow rumbling so angrily?

Payton seemed to sense the disruption in her sleep, because they touched her head gently. “You okay?”

“I’m fine, P. Are you?”

“Yeah, I’m good.”

Autumn didn’t exactly believe them, but didn’t want to make a big deal out of it either. Maybe breakfast had just left them feeling a little gassy, and talking about it would just embarrass them for no reason. Still, she tucked herself up even smaller and wriggled her head into Payton’s lap, in case the weight of her head was making things worse on their stomach. She tucked her knees up to her chest, checking that her feet weren’t obstructing the aisle.

She settled down, though she had no intention of falling asleep again. She made a little happy sound as Payton stroked some hair back from her face and tucked it behind her ear. Then, Payton propped their elbow on the armrest to support their chin, and seemed to fall into a light sleep themself.

Autumn was wide awake though, staring at the offensive-to-the-eyes bus seat upholstery and listening to Payton’s belly churn and slosh non-stop for about five minutes. It really didn’t sound good, but Autumn didn’t want to disturb Payton in the middle of a nap. A particularly deep rumble seemed to stir a lot around in there, so much so that it stirred Payton too. They shifted in their seat, prompting Autumn to lift her head from their lap.

“Sorry,” they murmured.

Autumn frowned, resting a hand on Payton’s stomach. “For what?”

“Disturbing you while you were slee–” Payton’s eyes widened slightly as they turned their head. Their belly jumped under Autumn’s palm, sending a gurgle up into their throat so that they burped and then hiccupped deeply against the back of their hand.

“How..?” Their gaze fell downwards as they noticed the pressure being applied to their stomach. “How’d you know my stomach was upset?”

Autumn raised her eyebrows in helpless confusion. “Baby, I could hear it bubbling away next to my ear. You couldn’t hear any of that?”

“Oh. No. I could feel it, but I didn’t realise it was being loud... Mmm.”

Payton sighed as Autumn rubbed her hand back and forth across their stomach. They tried for a grateful smile too, though it was watered down by the nausea that was draining every other aspect of their appearance and personality. All they could do was prop their elbow on the armrest again and cradle their head, eyes squeezed shut.

“I suppose I should have mentioned that I get motion sick on, like, fifty percent of all bus rides.”

“It’s okay,” Autumn chuckled. “There was a fifty percent chance you’d have gotten away with not mentioning it, huh?”

“I guess.”

Autumn slipped a hand inside the front of their dungarees, so her palm was on the fabric of their t-shirt. She massaged a gentle circle into their belly, paying close attention to Payton’s reaction. They let out a wince and brought a hand up to still hers, and she brought it to a stop.

A couple of silent beats passed, where Autumn’s hand cupped the slight outward curve of Payton’s stomach, and Payton’s hand hovered on the outside of their dungarees like a supervisor to Autumn’s. Autumn was just starting to think that everything had settled down, when the peace was broken; deep in Payton’s gut, something shifted and caused a lengthy rumble that was audible even to ears that weren’t right beside it.

“You heard that, right?” she teased softly, hoping to get a response out of Payton more than anything.

Their chin was almost touching the clasp on their dungarees, their mouth in a tight line as they swallowed so hard that Autumn saw their throat move. Any hint of playfulness dropped away and she sat upright, taking her hand out of Payton’s dungarees.

“P?” she asked.

Payton pressed the back of their hand against their mouth without opening their eyes, sitting forward in the seat. When they spoke, their voice was dripping with notes of queasiness, like they were on the verge of letting out a constant stream of burps.

“Can you see if someone’s got a plastic bag or something?”

Autumn nodded, feeling her throat tighten with sympathetic anxiety. She started to slide out of her seat, but paused when Payton touched her arm.

“Don’t let Lucy know I feel sick.”

Autumn frowned. “What? Really?”

“Yeah, trust me.”

A few rows down, Lucy was asleep with her arms folded across her chest and her head resting against the window. Beside her, Donnacha had headphones on too, and his eyes were closed, but Autumn could tell he was awake by the way his thumb gently tapped against the edge of his phone, keeping time with whatever he was listening to. He squinted at her after feeling the tap on his arm.

“Yeah, what’s up?” His voice smacked of impatience as he tugged his headphones down around his neck.

“Do you have a plastic bag or anything that I could take?” Autumn crouched next to his seat and kept her voice low. “Payton’s not doing so good.”

Annoyance or sleepiness or whatever it was, it vanished from Donnacha’s face. “No. Sorry, I’ve got nothing.”

Autumn nodded across Donnacha’s lap. “Do you think Lucy’s got anything we could –?”

“No, no, no, don’t tell Lucy,” Donnacha hissed.

Autumn huffed lightly. “Payton said that too.”

“It’ll start a whole thing.” Donnacha waved his hand. “Um, I think there’s a rest stop coming up, if Payton can hold on until then.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, should be in the next…” Donnacha looked out the window. “Five or ten minutes or so.”

“Great. Thank you.” Autumn wrung her hands as she straightened up, holding onto the back of Donnacha’s seat to keep the bus’s motion from swaying her. When she returned to her seat, Payton had their head against the back of the seat in front of them.

“No bag,” she said softly, scooping the back of Payton’s neck into her palm as they rested their head on her shoulder. “But we’re making a stop in a minute. We can take a little walk, go to the bathroom, get you some Sprite, maybe.”

Payton groaned weakly.

“Think you can hang in there for a few minutes?”

“Yeah, I think so.”

____

Autumn checked the time as she lingered at the base of the stairs that led to the rest stop bathrooms. They still had a little time until the bus was scheduled to leave again, but she couldn’t help feeling nervous when she had no way of knowing how Payton was doing. Her heart lifted a little when she saw them emerge, slowly making their way down the steps.

“Hey, baby,” Autumn sighed as she pulled them into a hug that was only returned half-heartedly. She rubbed gently at their back. “Did you get sick?”

“No,” Payton muttered miserably. A tight belch gurgled high in their chest, and they pulled back a little, rubbing at their breastbone. “My stomach’s churning like I’m on a boat, but nothing’s coming up.”

Autumn put a hand on Payton’s tummy in sympathy. While she traced a little circle just below their ribcage, she felt a rumble develop under her fingers, and heard it too; it sounded like a tiny helicopter trying to take off, and it somehow must have succeeded, because suddenly Payton was letting out another belch against the back of their hand.

“Sorry,” Payton mumbled after, putting their own hand on the spot where Autumn had been massaging.

“Don’t be.” Autumn chuckled quietly as she watched Payton press on their stomach again, coaxing up another belch. “Is that helping?”

“It’s doing… something,” they admitted, though that ‘something’ might not necessarily have been good. Judging by the way the colour in their face was changing again, it might have been the exact opposite.

Autumn was about to ask for clarification, but that was when Lucy appeared, sauntering over from the direction of the convenience store.

“Alright, losers?” she asked, sunglasses flashing in the sun as she stirred the straw in her iced coffee. “Bladders empty and ready to go?”

Autumn smiled tightly. “We’ll catch you up, Lu.”

“I was going to ask if either of you wanted to swap seats for a bit?” Lucy asked, rolling her head to one side. “Donnacha’s so boring on long trips. I want to chat.”

Autumn felt Payton tighten their grip on her hand, nervous energy heightening as they silently pleaded with her not to leave them.

“Maybe a little later,” Autumn told Lucy. Sweat tickled the back of her neck as she scrambled for something to say that wouldn’t draw attention to Payton and their washed-out face and shaky hands. “We – we were going to nap a little for the next part of the ride. I really didn’t sleep well last night.”

Even though her sunglasses were practically opaque, Autumn could tell Lucy was rolling her eyes. “Fine. But one of you owes me. Can you at least recommend some music for me to listen to? I’ve already burned through my playlist.”

Autumn glanced quickly at Payton; this was the kind of thing they were usually more than happy to step forward for, an opportunity to talk about music while also helping out a friend. Her heart sank when she saw that their eyes were glazed over, like they hadn’t even heard what Lucy had asked.

“Sure,” Autumn piped up, untangling her hand from Payton’s and reaching for her phone.

Payton felt their body sway a little at the absence of even the tiniest bit of support from Autumn. The girls leaned in to look at Autumn’s phone screen, but the whole scene seemed burnt-out in Payton’s vision, melted and warped in the afternoon sunshine and the smell of gasoline and exhaust fumes.

“No! None of your weird show music,” Lucy was saying to Autumn, and that was when Payton would usually have kissed Autumn on the head and told her that her show music wasn’t weird.

If only their belly hadn’t been hurting too much for them to focus.

They were shaking, feeling like a lamb being led to the slaughter, as the three of them slowly made their way back to the bus.

“Here.” Autumn handed Payton a bottle of Sprite as soon as they had both settled back into their seats. “Take some little sips.”

The sips were good, at first; Payton hadn’t realised how parched their tongue was, or how much their throat had started to hurt in the process of trying to throw up in the bathroom. The bubbles gave the illusion of cleaning out their oesophagus on the way down, making them feel like tiny sponges were scrubbing them clean on the inside. It was a good feeling, and they were feeling a little more confident about this leg of the journey already.

“You good?” Autumn asked as the bus began to pull away from the stop.

Payton nodded, stifling a fizzy burp that was just a direct result of the Sprite bubbles. They held the closed bottle against their knee and closed their eyes, humming lightly in response to Autumn laying a hand on their leg.

They barely moved for the next twenty minutes. They weren’t sleeping, but Autumn seemed to believe that they were, because Payton heard her take her book out of her bag and attempt to quietly turn the pages every so often.

However, under the still surface, Payton felt worse than before. The bubbles they thought had helped relieve the nausea were still forcing burps up their throat, growing tighter and tighter every time, bringing Payton closer and closer to tasting the sludge left over from their breakfast.

“Baby?” Payton pried their eyes halfway open, finally letting a hand rest on top of their churning belly.

Autumn looked up from her book, eyes wide and concerned. “Are you going to be sick?”

Payton nodded, and Autumn whispered “shoot” under her breath, hurrying to dump snacks and bottles of water into her handbag, so that she could hand Payton the plastic bag from the convenience store.

Leaning forward with the bag open under their face, Payton tried to thank her, but only managed to make a noise – which sounded a little like “mmmrpphl” – before there was a stream of something hot and soupy rushing up their throat and dripping into the bag. Their diaphragm lurched violently, like it was getting revenge on their stomach for some unknown past transgression, and the vomit burned their chest and tasted horrible. On the bright side, by the time it was falling out of their mouth, Payton was able to stay relatively quiet, with just the occasional cough or shallow belch slipping out.

“Sorry,” Payton mumbled when they were given a chance to breathe, thinking of the passengers in front of and behind them.

“Don’t worry, baby, nobody’s paying any attention.”

Payton reached out to touch Autumn’s leg, ending up squeezing her knee quite hard as another wave of nausea dragged their stomach contents up and out of them. If they were squeezing too hard, Autumn didn’t let them know.

The retching finally turned into quiet, dry coughs. Payton scrunched the top of the bag shut because the smell was keeping their stomach from settling. They rested their forehead on the seat in front, feeling like they could black out for the rest of the bus ride.

“Hey. You feeling better?” Autumn brushed her fingers across the small of their back.

Payton gave a heavy sigh through pursed lips. “Yeah.”

“Yeah?” Autumn seemed enthused – or maybe just relieved – at this response. She gently pried the plastic bag out of Payton’s grip.

As soon as their hands were free, they rubbed at their eyes with their knuckles, brushing away pained tears that had sprung up with the nausea. They then folded their arms across their belly, feeling it settle into a dull knot. It hurt, and was far from comfortable, but Payton would have taken it over the churning and gurgling any day.

Autumn saw the difference on Payton’s face too, as they sank back in their seat with their eyes closed. The tension that had drawn their eyebrows together, that had made them clamp their lips tightly shut, it had all melted away. She finished tying up the bag and considered cuddling up to Payton’s side like she’d done earlier, but she really didn’t want to disturb them or tempt fate again.

Instead, she went back to her book, taking Payton’s hand when it rested casually on her knee again a few minutes later.

___

They were some of the last off the bus, thanks to Autumn making sure that Payton took their time in moving. Colour had returned to their face, but they were still exhausted and their hands trembled a bit as they got ready to go.

The sun was almost all the way down, and Autumn had to squint in the fiery-orange light to see where Lucy and Donnacha were standing, waiting for them.

Lucy shuffled over with her sunglasses in her fist before they could reach her. She was shuddering visibly and shaking out her arms, like she was covered in bugs that she was trying to get rid of.

“I think – no, no, I know someone threw up on the bus! I could smell it. Donnacha kept telling me I was crazy.”

“I never said you were crazy,” Donnacha yawned, stretching his arms over his head. “I said ‘Lucy, shut up and let me sleep’.”

She scoffed and tossed up her palms. “You guys didn’t notice it?”

Payton swallowed, guilt piling on top of their lingering stomach ache. Next to them, Autumn tilted her head and hummed.

“Oh, I’m not sure about that,” she said, quickly putting her hands behind her back to hide the trash bag that she planned on disposing of at the first bin she came across. “I’m sorry about that though, Lucy. Does – does vomit really bother you?”

“Do not get me started.” Lucy waved her hands, which indicated that they should all take the statement literally, and not get her started. “I want to go. When are they going to open the luggage compartment? I’m dying for a wee.”

As Lucy turned to direct a larger portion of her complaining in Donnacha’s direction, Autumn pulled Payton a little closer by the waist, and they leaned their face into her neck.

“Hey, in theory, if it’s only half of all bus rides, the trip home should be a picnic, right?” she whispered, grinning as Payton jabbed her lightly in the side.

#sickfic #OC sickfic #motion sickness #motion sickness fic #emeto #emeto fic #emeto sickfic #sick boys #long fic #my OCs #sick Payton #caretaker Autumn #Payton and Autumn #non binary OC

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aellynera · 4 years ago

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An Off Day (Nathan Bateman x Reader)

AN OFF DAY

(okay, look. my husband thought he was being funny and said “give me a character and i’ll give you a scenario” and then i snorted laughing and then...well. this happened. set sometime before the events of the movie.)

((shoutout to @anetteaneta for an important bit of info and @tinygaydemonbby for the random chat and another key bit.))

Word Count: 2100(ish)

Summary: It’s your day off and you’re just trying to enjoy it. Nathan is working and he’s trying to enjoy it. It doesn’t at all go the way you imagined.

Warnings: Cursing. Banter. Robot sex (not graphic). Personal injury. Innuendo. Propositions. Nudity. Complete and utterly ridiculous trash. Possible typos. Nathan Bateman.

The absolute magnificence of the Alaskan landscape was something that, quite frankly, you were never going to get used to. The trees, tall and majestic, towering over the lush green grass. The river, crisp and pristine, bubbling its way to the immense waterfall that cascaded down the cliff face and eventually made its way into the ever-vast ocean. The bald eagles that would soar from treetop to treetop, even the occasional moose that would make itself known at the edges of the compound and then disappear like ghosts into the forest beyond.

It was otherworldly.

The occasional twig snapped and leaf crunched under your boots as you hiked along your usual trail along the north side of the property. Today’s air felt cool on your cheeks despite the sun overhead; at least it was summer - technically, even if the temperature wasn’t getting much above 60 degrees Fahrenheit these past few weeks - so you had twenty hours of daylight instead of the twenty hours of darkness in winter.

You found your favorite spot on a nearby rock and perched on the smooth surface, tilting your face up to that glorious, shining orb. This really was what you needed right now.

*ding!*

...And that was really what you didn’t need. Definitely not right now, and probably not later either. Speaking of otherworldly.

Your boss was a difficult man, and you had a strange rapport with him that was irritating on a daily professional basis, and to your dismay, increasingly so on a personal level. To be fair, you were the only two humans out here. To also be fair, your boss was kind of annoyingly hot.

You sighed and reached into your pocket, pulling out your phone and glancing at the screen.

God: Where the fuck are you?

God? What the… You were annoyed by the text, but more annoyed by the name. When the hell did that bastard changed his name in your phone? He was insufferable on the best of days, but this was a new low. A new high? You weren’t really sure. Sighing, you shot a text back.

You: It’s my day off.

God: You know that’s not really a thing here right?

You: It is when I need a break from you.

God: I’ll make it up to you.

You: Unless you’re asking me to dinner, I don’t want to hear it.

You groaned. You really didn’t mean to say that.

The little ellipses that showed he was typing back flashed across the screen several times, then stopped. Then popped back up, and stopped again. And just because your boss was your boss, it did it four more times, but still no response.

You shoved your phone back in your jacket pocket and returned your attention to the river, breathing deeply and watching the water swirl around a pile of rocks on the opposite bank.

*ding!*

Dammit.

God: I need you to come back like right now.

You: I’m not gonna sit around and be your Eliza Doolittle today, Nathan.

You weren’t just saying that. Last week, the man had dragged you, literally, into the lab by your elbow and had you repeat vowel sounds and random words extremely phonetically while holding a pulsing orb of glowing blue goo. He claimed it was some kind of brain training. You’d said it wasn’t part of your job description, but honestly, it probably was. You were there to assist, you were there to manage, you were there to occasionally have a satisfyingly intelligent and non-arrogant conversation, and you were mostly there to make sure Nathan Bateman didn’t blow anything up or burn anything down.

That didn’t necessarily mean you liked any of it. Okay, fine, you kind of liked the assisting part and definitely the intelligent conversation part. But it was your day off, and all you wanted to do was not be in the house.

God: What? No, it’s...I just need your help with something.

You: Nathan. It. Is. My. Day. Off. No assistance today. Bother me tomorrow.

God: ...Please?

That gave you pause. Since when did he actually ask for anything politely?

You: Fine. I’m halfway up summit trail, give me like 20.

God: Make it 10.

You: Asshole.

God: And bring a bag of frozen peas.

What the actual hell.

You blinked at the screen twice, turned your phone off completely, and started back towards the house.

*****

You didn’t know why you paid the slightest bit of attention to Nathan’s request, but once in the house, you found yourself in the kitchen, pulling a bag of frosty legumes out of the freezer. With it in hand, you made your way to the lab.

Nathan hadn’t told you where he was, but you knew where to find him. He was always in the lab.

“Okay, I’m back,” you called out as you pushed through the door to Nathan’s inner sanctum. “Now what is so damn important that…”

“Oh thank fuck,” Nathan’s voice called out. “Do you have the stuff?”

You glanced around suspiciously. You couldn’t see him. Until you came around the side of the long table in the middle of the room and found him. Your eyes widened at the sight of Nathan, curled up on the floor in a fetal position, sweating and vaguely shaking.

And totally naked.

He glanced up as he saw your shoes approached and weakly raised his arm and made a grabby hand. “Gimme.”

Tossing the frozen vegetables to him, your mouth opened and closed several times, trying to process the scene. Before you could really take it all in, you watched as Nathan reached over his shoulder, grabbed his discarded t-shirt, and wrapping the icy bag in the shirt, placed it directly on his crotch.

“All right,” you finally got out, “what the actual hell is going on?!”

“Ohhhhh,” Nathan moaned as the cold compress made contact with his skin. “I thought I was gonna die.”

“Why are you naked?” you yelled at him.

“There was a malfunction,” he replied, nonchalant as if you were simply discussing the weather.

You just gaped at him. This was definitely not in your job description.

“A malfunction,” you repeated.

Nathan made a feeble gesture at the table. It was covered in metal parts and wires, screwdrivers and other things you assumed were robotic but couldn’t recognize. He had been working a new body build for the past few days, that much you knew. But now there were metal bits everywhere and Nathan was bare as the day he was born, sprawled in the middle of the floor. Your eyes scanned the table again; the biggest object, in the middle of the mess, looked sort of like...oh, you did not like where this was going. You pinched the bridge of your nose.

“I may have miscalculated the required tension,” Nathan said, still curled up on the floor.

The required...oh hell no.

“Nathan...you know you’re the literally the smartest person I know, and you know I think you’re brilliantly creative and inventive and all that important stuff, but please, please tell me you were not actually doing what I think you were doing,” you muttered.

“I was working!”

“You know I can just check the security footage, right?” you stared him down.

Nathan looked at you over the top of his glasses. “I had to test it and make sure it worked.”

You buried your face in your hands.

“Why does a robot have to have working...parts?!” As soon as you asked, you wished you hadn’t. This idiot genius actually had the nerve to blush. Slightly. He would never admit it, but his ears definitely got pinker than they’d been a few seconds ago.

Nathan sat up suddenly and glared at you, adjusting the ice pack again - thank the heavens - to keep himself covered. “First of all, it’s not a robot, it’s an AI. There’s a big difference. And second of all, we talked about this. The point is to make it as human as possible, so this particular part was necessary.”

The glare you shot back at him could have melted his current loincloth. It was your day off and Nathan couldn’t even leave you be for one whole day without his compulsion to cater to whatever whim was in his head and get under your skin. You dropped into one of the lab chairs.

“So...let me get this straight,” you sighed. God help you. But not the God in your cell phone, because he could go fuck himself. Or get fucked. Whichever.

Suddenly, through your haze of utter exasperation, what you’d just thought clicked into place and you snorted a laugh. Your eyes flashed over to the thing in the middle of the table. It was definitely shaped like a pelvis.

Nathan’s eyes became daggers. “What’s so fuckin’ funny?”

Your eyes went to the thing on the table and to his hands, and then back again. You shook your head, cleared your throat, and tried not to laugh again. It didn’t work. “Sorry. Um. So...what you’re saying is...you got injured because you were...fucking a robot pelvis.”

“I should fire you,” Nathan grumbled.

“And you got injured - from fucking a disembodied robot pelvis -”

“I am so going to fire you.”

“...because it was too...tight?”

“I shouldn’t have asked for your help. I should have just let myself die here, naked and unsatisfied.” He flopped back down.

You couldn’t help yourself any longer. Your laughter rang through the lab, a mixture of actual amusement and horrified reality. You snorted again and that made you laugh harder. Nathan had always joked about making a sex robot. Well, you thought he had been joking, but now, clearly not - and he’d hurt himself in the actual process of trying to make sure it worked. You weren’t a monster, you hoped he wasn’t truly actually injured, but you also took a little satisfaction in knowing karma existed.

After a few minutes, you wiped your eyes and looked down at him. Nathan stared back, but you could see the start of a sheepish smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“I told you I miscalculated the tension. It was fine--”

“Until it wasn’t?” you wheezed.

“--until it cut off all the circulation to my dick.”

You bit your lip. “Nathan Bateman. You literally cockblocked yourself.”

He didn’t respond right away. But then he spoke, at the same moment you noticed the smirk on his face fully bloom and what you’d come to call his “up to some bullshit” look glimmer in his eyes.

“Are you gonna come help me or not?”

“Excuse me?” You were fairly certain your eyebrows could not go any farther up your forehead.

“Well, I’m not in excruciating, unimaginable pain now, and I’d like to make sure my dick isn’t going to fall off. And I didn’t finish. Need a little help here.”

“You want me to--” you stuttered.

“Un-cockblock me,” his wolfish smile broke out fully now.

You hurled a pen at his head. “You really are an asshole.”

“I admit,” he continued, easily dodging your projectile, “this wasn’t what I was expecting for the first time you saw me naked, but I’ll work with what I got.” He started to remove the ice pack.

Another pen went flying his way. “You know, I’m just going to pretend that you’re not about to flash me with your mechanically impaired penis, and that you didn’t just proposition me, and I’m leaving this room now,” you said, standing up and shaking your head.

“Baby, you’re just gonna leave me hanging here?” he grinned, stretching back out on the floor. He folded his hands behind his head. The t-shirt wrapped bag of frozen peas remained - now perched rather proudly, you noted - on his groin.

A vexed growl left your lips as you walked towards the lab door. “Leaving now!”

“Well could you at least toss me my pants?”

You glanced down. Nathan’s sweatpants were balled up behind the lab door. How they’d gotten all the way over here...nope. Nope. You decided that information was entirely unnecessary.

You threw his pants at him and they hit him in the face with a satisfying whump.

“You sure I can’t convince you to help me out here?” Nathan asked serenely from under the fabric.

He couldn’t see the small smile on your face as you walked out the door. Thank god. Or...God. Whatever. The man was a menace.

“Ask me to dinner,” you called over your shoulder.

“I’ll text you,” he called back.

God.

~end~

taglist: @anetteaneta @autumnleaves1991-blog @damerondjarin @deeandbobbymcgee @rosemarysbaby13 @iamthe-shadow-on-the-wall @itspdameronthings @poedjarin @spider-starry @tinygaydemonbby @writefightandflightclub @woakiees @veuliee2 @yourbucky084

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#nathan bateman #nathan bateman x reader #fanfic #oscar isaac characters #my writing

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m-y-fandoms · 5 years ago

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Fuyuhiko x reader - Fuyuhiko’s S/O saves his sister from being killed by Sato

Request: congrats on the blog!! i really like your writing!! could i request fuyuhiko's s/o protecting natsumi from being killed by sato?

Of course! I love Fuyuhiko actually, he just barely missed my top five favorite DR characters list, definitely top 10. Warnings: blood, violence, spoilers for the Danganronpa 3 anime and Super Danganronpa 2, reader’s gender not specified - Mod Kokichi

“See ya, babe. Don’t be late after last period today, I got some shit to handle for my dad as soon as I drop you off at work,” Fuyuhiko spoke lazily, a nudge on your shoulder to get your attention again.

“Yeah, ‘course!” You smiled as he leaned in and pecked you on the cheek, routinely, like he had every morning for the past few years. “See ya, ‘Hiko!” He nodded, sauntering off with books under his arm and his free hand in the pocket of his slacks. “Bye, Peko!” You bowed your head to the swordswoman who followed diligently behind your boyfriend, nodding her acknowledgment to you. You sighed, watching him disappear into the entrance of the main wing of Hope’s Peak Academy. Your eyes glossed over dreamily, lingering on him. Was that a new cologne on him today? Maybe he was wearing his uniform a little neater than usual this morning…

“Let’s go, fuckin’ space cadet!” A shove from behind knocked you forward toward the entrance of the Reserve Course wing, You sighed deeply. “My brother ain’t that cute, damn!”

“Natsumi, you could’ve just said something.” You pushed back the frustration in your voice in favor of a small smile in her direction.

“Whatever, we’re gonna be late, and I’m not dealing with another one of Mr. Nakamura’s lectures on the value of punctuality!” She stuck her tongue out as if gagging, her blonde hair floating through the air as she rushed past you, her shoulder roughly knocking into yours.

“Geez...that girl…” You shook your head, following behind.

You couldn’t really complain about anything or anyone at Hope’s Peak, seeing as you were just lucky to be there in the first place. After dating Fuyuhiko for a little over two years, he got scouted and asked to attend Hope’s Peak’s main course as the Ultimate Yakuza. You were so happy for him, and proud, but he wasn’t as thrilled. He was really attached to you, with your father and his father being childhood friends and clan members, and your own childhood friendship with him had blossomed into this loving and loyal relationship. It was the best kind. After all, people always say the healthiest and longest-lasting marriages came when your spouse was your best friend, and you definitely intended to marry that boy one day. With how close you two were, he’d be damned if he was splitting up with you for some stupid school, but both you and his father weren’t having it. Mr. Kuzuryu only gained more influence and pride once his son started going to the best school in the country, and you just wouldn’t let your boyfriend pass up on the opportunity of a lifetime, and so…

Fuyuhiko had gotten his father to personally pay for your tuition in order to enter the Reserve Course. It wasn’t like your family was poor, but you weren’t Hope’s-Peak-level rich. You protested at first, of course, feeling like a burden, but you could see that Fuyuhiko was quickly getting angry at your refusals and excuses, so you accepted. Plus, he told you that he wanted someone he trusted to look after his little sister, Natsumi, and you let him give you this excuse as a justification to accept his father’s financial support.

The Reserve Course wasn’t that bad, certainly much more high class than your previous school, but sharing most of your classes with Natsumi was a pain in your ass. Her father was the leader of the Kuzuryu clan. Your father was one of his subordinates, below him, and she seemed to like to remind you of that every five minutes. She talked down to you endlessly, and seemed jealous of the attention her brother gave you, but you had absolutely no room to complain to Fuyuhiko about it after what his father had done for you, so you just didn’t. As far as he knew, you and his sister were on good, neutral terms. She was mean and a smart-ass to everyone, so he didn’t expect you two to be having sleepovers and make friendship bracelets, but he figured you liked her, and she didn’t hate you.

You could sense a deep insecurity in Natsumi: a need to be recognized, a want to be in the main course, an inferiority complex that you sometimes saw in other Kuzuryu’s you knew, so you tried to always be nice to her. Everyone has their struggles, and her aggressive personality was how she pushed back hers. She was in your life for good, if you wanted to stay with Fuyuhiko, and besides, you promised him you’d look after her. And so, you kept your chin up and walked to class with a smile...until you opened the classroom door.

“I’m telling you, Kuzuryu, I don’t care who your father is, none of us do! You’re in the Reserve Course just like us because you’re no better than anyone else here!” The green haired girl, Sato, Natsumi’s current and longest-standing arch-enemy, loomed over Natsumi, her face red with anger and hands balled into trembling fists at her side. Really...they’re starting early today...school just started.

“Move your stupid face and smelly breath out of my face before I move it for you!” Natsumi spat back, leaning further into the argument. You quickly ran and stood between them. Every day was like this, with you or your classmate Hajime Hinata - a plain boy with a big heart - breaking it up before it escalated. But it was wearing on you, having been going on for over a month.

“What the fuck did you say, bitch?! Just because your dad is some thug criminal doesn’t mean no one can touch you! You’re testing my patience!” Sato’s hand raised, and your own shot out and grabbed her by the wrist.

“Woah, woah!” Your breath was shaky. “What’s it about, today, guys? What happened?” Sato was mad about you stopping her, of course, but she liked you, certainly more than she did Natsumi, and she respected you and Hajime for always looking out for your classmates, even if she didn’t want to admit it. After all, you’d stuck up for her and others just as much as Natsumi over the course of the semester - not taking Natsumi’s side so much as simply diffusing the situation - so she paused her attack, huffing. You couldn’t actually believe Sato raised her hand to Natsumi. They always bickered, every single day, but it hadn’t gotten physical, yet.

“She’s talking shit about Mahiru again! I told this bitch to stay away from Mahiru and keep her name out of her mouth, but of course her jealousy knows no limits!” Sato spat, and you looked to Natsumi as if for confirmation. Just then, Hajime Hinata, as well as your professor, waltzed into the room together, just a little late after the bell. Upon seeing the scene before them, Mr. Nakamura spoke out:

“What’s going on here? I’m a few minutes late and you guys think class should turn into a free-for-all? Get to your seats!” You looked to Natsumi, then Sato.

“Guys, this isn’t worth it, please…” Your eyes pleaded softly. Sato scowled, turning away and returning to her seat. Natsumi pushed past you, her lips close to your ear.

“I’ve told you before and I’m telling you again, I don’t need you fighting my fuckin’ battles for me…” she whispered, her tone flat and menacing, “I don’t care if you’re dating my brother, if you get in my way again, I’ll handle you and Sato.” You knew she didn’t mean it. She was hotheaded like her brother, and at this moment she felt bested by Sato, not having gotten to say her piece and have the final word in the argument. She was embarrassed and angry. So you let her go back to her seat without a response or retort.

When the class period ended, you caught Natsumi walking past Sato as everyone was leaving the room, speaking harshly. “Hey, Sato, raise a hand to me again, and I’ll fucking kill you.”

You were in the back of a sleek limousine, sitting on Fuyuhiko’s lap, your arms around his neck as he attacked your neck with rough kisses. Being alone in the back was nice and all, but it felt so...off. Usually, Natsumi rode along with you, and any friends that were riding back to the Kuzuryu east-side guesthouse after school to hang out. Friends and non-clan members weren’t allowed in the Kuzuryu main manor, it was far too dangerous, but the Kuzuryu’s owned many little extravagant homes, lounges, stores and clubhouses where you’d meet up and pass time with friends.

“ ‘Hiko, why isn’t Natsumi here, again?”

“I told you, some shit about a photography club meeting after school. You know she likes taking pictures and shit.” His brow furrowed at the interruption before going back to your neck. “Geez, just savor it. I rarely have time to be alone with you.” You pushed his shoulders back.

“Y-yeah but, Natsumi isn’t in the photography club for the Reserve Course. I know because I’m in it...we don’t have a meeting this week.” You started to worry.

“Whatever, who cares. Maybe she went off to give some kid a handy behind the school.” You rolled your eyes at his facetious tone and he smirked. “Why do you care? She’s fine.” He took his attack south to your collarbone, and you let him as you continued.

“Well...it’s just…she’s been having issues with this girl in class and I’m worried…”

“Issues?” His head popped up, face screwed up in an annoyed and anxious expression, but then melting into careful suspicion just as fast. “What kind of issues? I’m sure that if it was that bad, you’d have told me a while ago, yes?”

“W-well, of course, but...I mean nothing’s happened, really…they usually just swear and insult each other, but today, things almost got physical…” He paused, thinking.

“...what’s been going on?” Physical for a boy used to being around yakuza could mean anything from a fistfight to a bullet to the head, so he automatically assumed the worst most of the time.

“I don’t know...they just hate each other. Natsumi doesn’t like this girl...Mahiru Koi...something. She’s in your class. She’s jealous of her, I think...and so Sato, the one Natsumi is fighting with, is defending Mahiru to be a good friend, but-“

“Pfft! I thought you were gonna say something serious. This is petty high-school girl shit, s/o! If they wanna throw punches, break their nails and pull hair, let them. Natsumi and I see blood spilled every day. She can handle herself in a fight. Let her pop this Sato chick in the mouth, then. Who cares? Bet it will settle this little spat of theirs. You shouldn’t be so stressed about it.” His eyes softened, rubbing your back with one hand.

“I know, it’s just...I mean you told me to look out for her, and it’s not like I don’t care about your sister, she’s like family to me…”

“It’s not your job to babysit and bodyguard her. I just said that so you’d take the damn tuition money and I think you know that,” he snorted, shifting your position on his lap to kiss you on the forehead. “If she really needs someone like Peko, we’ll get her someone, but we both wanted to go to school without the clan’s influence. You know that…” he trailed off.

“I know, but-“ the driver stopped abruptly.

“I’ll see you after work. Don’t stress about this, seriously.” Fuyuhiko pushed your folded up work clothes into your hands, and you gave him a look of warning, as if to say ‘you aren’t taking this seriously’ before he gestured toward the limousine door, giving you a playful slap on the ass as you exited with the driver patiently holding the door open for you. “I love you.”

“I love you, too, ‘Hiko,” you smiled before pushing through the large crystal doors on the upscale, Kuzuryu-owned men’s clothing boutique for your shift.

The next day was like any other school day: dropped off at the gates, Fuyuhiko’s peck on your cheek, Natsumi walking with you to first period...but, what was that grin on her face…? She hated waking up early, she hated first period...she was always sluggish or irritable and waiting for her morning caffeine to kick in. You decided you were being paranoid, and shook it off.

When you entered the classroom, the students were all huddled in the corner, surrounding Sato, who was screaming at Hajime about something.

“-and I am not just gonna let this slide, Hinata! You better fuck of-“ Hajime saw you two enter, and Sato’s eyes followed his own, her rant cutting off. Locking eyes with Natsumi, who smirked back wickedly, she flew out of her seat, launching herself at your future sister-in-law. Natsumi fought back, her hands around Sato’s neck as Sato pulled her down to the ground.

“Oh my-stop!” You pulled at Natsumi’s arms, everything seeming to happen so fast. She threw an elbow back toward you for interfering, and it hit your side roughly. You grimaced, the pain working hard but your adrenaline working harder. You thrust yourself between the girls, pulling Natsumi back with all of your might. Hajime rushed over, pulling Sato off the ground and holding her back as she kicked and swung.

“I told you-! You-let go of me!!!” Natsumi resisted as well, and you and Hajime locked eyes, barely keeping hold of the two combatants.

“What could possibly be worth all this!” You wheezed, Natsumi quickly overpowering you.

“That cunt! Let me go, Hinata or I’ll fuck you up, too!” Sato roared, catching the attention of Mr. Nakamura, who rushed in and quickly pressed his authority, threatening both girls with suspension or worse if they spoke another word or touched each other. They were both sent to the headmaster’s office, with Hajime being asked to escort them since they ‘obviously needed to be monitored like children’.

You sat in your desk seat, uniform askew, armpits wet with perspiration. Another student filled you in after class. Apparently, Natsumi had gone over to the photo development room in the main course’s wing after school, and ripped up each and every photo Mahiru was going to present at the upcoming photography competition on campus. Twenty photos for a gallery opening up tomorrow for student work. Twenty priceless, stunning photographs by the Ultimate Photographer, all gone. Oh...so that’s why Sato was so pissed. You had to admit, it was hard to defend Natsumi at this point. You released a breath you’d been holding in, putting your head down on your desk to just calm your thoughts before texting Fuyuhiko. You filled him in about what happened, every detail, and your thoughts on it, taking Sato’s side as gently as possible. You had hoped to get his counsel, simply wanting validation and reassurance that there was nothing to worry about, but you ended up only making it worse.

Natsumi texted you about fifteen minutes later, calling you a fucking snitch and many other expletives, saying with malice that now her brother was on her case. Fuyuhiko then texted you saying he told Natsumi she better go straight to the limo after the last bell rang like a fire was lit under her ass, and that he wanted you to stand outside her last class and wait for her to make sure she did just that. You swallowed your spit down hard, throat going dry all of a sudden. You didn’t intend for this to happen. Now Natsumi was going to hate you, and Fuyuhiko is going to be in a bad mood. Why did you have to be so stupid? Why did Natsumi have to cause so much trouble? Maybe you should just let her suffer on her own, and stop stressing about it like Fuyuhiko said. This wasn’t fair, for you to feel like this because of her behavior.

You left your last class a few minutes early, rushing to Natsumi’s classroom with an exhausted and anxious air about you. You found the class, and leaned on the wall beside the door, preparing for her to march out and scream at you and who knows maybe even strangle you because that’s what she was into now apparently and-

Your ears perked up at a loud sound, like muffled yelling and a crash of glass. It sounded nearby, but far away at the same time. The yelling picked up, a bit louder now, and you felt yourself get nervous for no reason. It had to be on this floor, and close. You looked around, and held your bag close, sprinting down the hall. The sound got louder, confirming your suspicions until you were in front of the music room, with yelling and then a strangled cry coming from the other side. You panicked, fumbling with the door handle, but it wouldn’t budge. You pounded on the door, your breathing getting harder and faster. Backing up, you braced yourself, and ran at the door with the strength of fight-or-flight adrenaline in your veins, throwing your shoulder into the hard door and it flew open, slamming into the wall on the other side.

“NATSUMI!” You didn’t have time to baby your injured shoulder, as the scene before you needed immediate action, obviously. A broken glass fish tank was scattered on the ground, gravel and quickly dying freshwater fish littering the floor. The room was a mess, with sheet music and desks knocked over and spilled out everywhere. Sato stood near the window, her hands around Natsumi’s neck in a vice-like grip, and Natsumi gasping and flailing, her eyes slowly rolling to the back of her head. “Sato, what the fuck are you thinking?!!!” You ran at her, and Sato didn’t even look in your direction, her mind clouded with hatred and blood lust. Knocking into Sato with all you had, she fell forward into the window, releasing Natsumi as the window splintered and cracked around her.

Natsumi hit the the wall beside the window and fell to the floor, gasping and choking, her lungs clawing desperately for air. Sato leapt at her again, and you tackled her to the ground, looking up at Natsumi.

“Go! GO! Fuyuhiko will be at the gates! Get him!” Natsumi looked shocked, traumatized, and simply stared at you, while Sato spat and growled and tried to buck you off, reaching for Natsumi’s skirt. “Get someone! Please!”

“I-I told you I don’t need y-your help, s/o!” She tried to keep up her gangster’s-daughter persona even in her shaken-up state, but her voice betrayed her and tears sprung from her eyes. Sato threw you off and started to stand.

“Run! Natsumi, RUN!!” She heard the seriousness in your voice, the fear, and she had never heard you sound like that before. You were her brother’s sensitive, pacifist, kind-hearted s/o, and here you were, in danger because of her. She shook off her pride, and ran toward the door as you grabbed Sato’s ankle and she tripped to the ground again. Natsumi disappeared down the hall, screaming for help the entire way.

“Fuck you! Fuck you!! She deserved this! You ruined everything!” Sato sounded like an animal more than a high-school girl. She reached to her right, twisting her body around violently until she could reach a long shard of glass from the fish tank, and she brought it down hard on your thigh, the glass tearing into your flesh.

You screamed out in pain, your vision blurring quickly at the shock of it, sobs coming immediately from your mouth. Blood gushed out of the inches-deep wound, and your heads involuntarily released Sato. When you steadied yourself, steeling your nerves, and reached out to try and neutralize her again, she pulled the glass out of your leg, slamming it down again, hitting a vein deeply before pulling it out. You yelped and forced yourself to stand as she did, blood spurting freely from your leg. You fell more than threw yourself onto her, your head beginning to spin and feeling consciousness leaving you slowly. Leaning on her, you wrapped your arms around her waist with all of your remaining energy, and gripped tightly, hoping you could at least burden her enough to make leaving to room slower and making it impossible for her to catch up to Natsumi or flee the scene before help came.

Now with a great strength advantage over you, she arched her back, threw her head back, and slammed you behind her into the wall. Your head hit the wall with a crack, and immediately you slumped to the ground, your world going dark.

“...hear me? S-.....” fuzziness. Emptiness. Darkness. “-lose you, please! You h-“ A voice faded in and out, then finally out for good. Hours later, you felt yourself stir.

When your eyelids flew open, the ceiling above you was white, clean, calming.

“S/o?!” Fuyuhiko? You sat up quickly, a pounding in your head making you gasp and whimper. “No, no! You need to stay down.” A hand on your chest softly guided you back onto the pillow below you. You turned your head to the side. You took in your surroundings slowly. A hospital. You were in a hospital bed, and Fuyuhiko had been in a chair beside you, now standing at your side. His hands flew to your face, cradling your cheeks. “You’re an idiot, you know that? Are you fucking crazy?” His words were harsh, but there was no anger behind them, only worry and pain. You felt the wrap of linen around your head wound, and adjusting your leg at all resulted in a sharp spike of pain shooting up your body.

“Where’s Natsumi? Is she okay? Did Sato-“

“I don’t wanna hear that bitch’s name. And why are you worried about Natsumi right now?!” Now there was anger. “You almost fucking died, s/o! I almost lost you!” His voice cracked on that last word, and your eyes widened at the tears that threatened to fall from his eyes before he angrily rubbed them away with his sleeve. “Natsumi’s fucking fine. She didn’t have anything more than a few bruises on her neck. Nothing’s broken or injured except her pride. And she will be coming to thank and apologize to you at length later.” You didn’t comment on that last bit, deciding instead to ask about what happened after you passed out.

Natsumi found a security guard at the entrance, he explained, and he saw her screaming from his position at the school gates. He rushed over to yell at her and figure out what the hell was going on, before having her grab him by the wrist and force him into the school with stuttering gibberish about you and that you were in trouble or something like that with the security guard running close behind. When they got to the music room, the door was open and Sato was nowhere to be found.

Fuyuhiko had screamed your name, his throat ripping apart as he swore and cried and snot ran down his face like a fool. He ran to what he thought was your corpse, blood splattered everywhere, pooling under you, a little patch of blood on the wall behind you head. He took in your closed eyes and thigh oozing slowly-drying blood, and picked you up into his arms, his clothes getting covered in the liquid. He screamed at Natsumi to call for the police, an ambulance, anything, while the security guard called for backup and went off to find Sato. You were brought immediately to the hospital along with Natsumi, and he’d been waiting by your bed ever since, just pleading, begging you to wake up. Sato was apprehended by police a few blocks from the school, obviously off her rocker and in a manic state.

“You...you were almost gone. You lost...just so much blood,” he sniffled.

“But, I’m here,” you reached up and grabbed his hand, a comforting smile on your lips, “aren’t I?” He scoffed at you.

“You fucking idiot,” he shook his head, leaning down and kissing you roughly on the lips, tears from his eyes falling onto your cheeks. “I fucking love you. Don’t make me worry like this.” He pulled back, face inches from yours.

“I love you, too, so much.” You looked back at him with some indeterminable emotion washing over you. You were just overwhelmed.

“I will always love you. Please, don’t leave me.”

328 notes · View notes

free-pancakes · 4 years ago

Text

A Fire in the Shadows

LeviHan - Avatar the Last Airbender AU fic

Characters: Levi, Hange, Erwin, Mike, Nanaba, Moblit, Kenny, Zeke, Sasha, Jean, Armin, Kuchel, Porco, Pieck

Summary: Levi, the nephew of a fire nation captain, stumbles upon a ragtag group of 5 known as the Scouts, formidably known for foiling the plans of local fire nation control, living in the forests a few miles north of Ba Sing Se.

Chapter 5: Interconnected Chapter 4: The Fire from the Shadows Chapter 3: Bonds Chapter 2: Trust Chapter 1: The Scouts

(crossposted to ao3)

CH 5: Interconnected

A 10 year-old Hange sat by the edge of the river running right outside her home, listening to the happy quacks of little turtle ducks swimming by. She smiled as she molded the fire in her palm into a small ball of flame, tossing and kicking it back and forth to herself. Erwin walked quietly towards the river, and stared at Hange from afar. He couldn’t help but watch, mesmerized at the finesse of her movements—she was a natural, more adept than even the adult firebenders he knew, at just 10 years old. She was just a kid, but she was skilled beyond her years. He was so proud of her, but admittedly, a little jealous. He looked down at his hands, sad that he wasn’t gifted with the ability to bend an element. He lowered them and shook his head—despite this, the pride he had for his best friend far outweighed any sadness he felt being a non-bender. He’d always stand by her side.

“Hange, I got the stuff you asked for.” He pulled off his backpack and shook its contents onto the grass—a metal funnel, metal clamps, and wax adhesives. Hange’s eyes glowed with fiery excitement as she squealed with joy. “These are perfect!” She gathered the supplies and ran towards the house. “Come on Erwin, race you back to my room!” She sprinted ahead, and Erwin laughed as he ran to catch up with her.

Hange ran into her home, tracking dirt all over the wooden floorboards. “Hange dear, come on, I just mopped the floor!”

She disappeared into her room and yelled, “Sorry, Mom! I got a super-top-secret-urgent project to work on!”

Before she could ask Hange to come back and clean up her mess, she turned around to find Erwin already sweeping up the dirt.

“Oh Erwin, you’re so sweet, you don’t need to do that!” She gently took the broom out of his hand and ruffled his hair. “Go join Hange, don’t worry about it,” she said softly.

“Thanks for having me, Mrs. Zoe,” he politely nodded his head and walked into Hange’s room, closing the door gently behind him. He looked down to find Hange busy producing a tiny fire at the tip of her index finger, welding the metal to the rest of her contraption. Erwin knew better than to talk to her while she was engrossed in conjuring up her newest invention, so he put his backpack down on the floor and sat neatly across from her. He stared up at the wall, at the same picture frames he always looked at whenever he waited for Hange to finish her latest project. The picture was that of a man who resembled Hange’s father, his arm around a young Avatar Roku and a few other people, all of them smiling together.

According to Hange, the bespectacled man in the painting was her great grandfather, a good friend of Roku. Beneath this was a picture of Erwin’s grandparents arm-in-arm with Hange’s grandparents and all of their friends. The picture below that was one from a few years before either Hange or he was born, showing his and Hange’s parents laughing together, and in the center, a beautiful woman with long, black hair and the most gentle eyes. Generations… lifetimes of the most powerful firebenders, yet the most kind people were displayed there before him, and it was almost crazy to think that he and Hange, along with their new friends, Mike and Nanaba, were probably next in line to join that wall—a wall displaying both genuine friendship and deep loyalty to the peaceful and harmonious land the fire nation once was. Erwin smiled as he remembered his father’s words to him one night not too long ago—“Friendships really do transcend lifetimes.”

“Success!” Hange held the contraption in her hand, a mess of metal tubes swirling into a metal funnel at the end. Before he could ask what it was, Hange was dragging him by the hand and climbing out the one window in her room. “Hurry up ya slowpoke! Before my mom or Moblit hears us!”

They ran towards the small barn marking the halfway point between their houses. Hange walked along the edges of the barn to a spot in the dirt marked with a small scarf of hers. “Here! Help me dig, Erwin!” They used their hands to scoop piles of dirt out, deep enough to fit the end of the funnel under and inside the barn.

“Ok! Can you stay right here and listen to me through the pipe? Tell me how clear the sound is.” Hange ran around the corner and into the barn, and began to speak and whisper, alternating between the two. Erwin’s eyes widened in shock at the clarity—even Hange’s whispers were audible through the pipe. “How did she even manage to do this?” he thought to himself. Now they could listen clearly to their parents’ secret meetings, and he was quite excited with their new tool.

“From the look on your face, I take it that the acoustics are perfect, no?” Hange smiled deviously, and Erwin returned it. The two friends happily bumped fists. “Now we can hear about their next mission without taking turns pressing our ears against the wall!”

Ever since she and Erwin stumbled upon a meeting about a year ago, their minds became hyper-fixated on discovering their parents' work and uncovering the secrets behind it all. Since they were probably the two most dangerously curious kids of all the fire nation, it was only natural that they’d figure it all out eventually. They had spent the past year trying to listen to the group meetings in the barn, and learned all about their missions. Ridden with curiosity, the two eventually found years of hidden documents containing information on their families, kept in boxes under faulty floorboards of their homes.

When Avatar Roku mysteriously died nearly 100 years ago, his group of friends awaited their friend’s reincarnation as a child from one of the air temples. But after the fire nation attacks on the airbender monks, they feared the worst. The world began to tip out of balance, and when no avatar seemed to appear in the earth kingdom, they wondered whether the avatar was gone for good. But among Roku’s friends, hope was not lost—they passed down their stories from generation to generation, and as the fire nation grew in power, the Zoe family was the face of those defending from the inside, attempting to do what they could to restore balance. They became the crux of movement within the shadows of the fire nation, thwarting plans of conquering villages and cities of the world, keeping as many citizens and innocent people safe from fire nation soldiers’ violence. Their numbers have dwindled over the years from fighting for their cause, and most of them eventually moved into the earth kingdom colonies to help out the villages more closely, though a few stayed behind in the fire nation to continue retrieving intel from the inside and kept correspondence with any information gleaned.

Hange was quite keen on listening for more every week, confident in her desire to follow in her family’s footsteps. As much as Erwin shared Hange’s excitement, part of him was deeply concerned about Hange’s safety. Out of the families that moved out into the earth kingdom colonies, she was the only firebender in their generation, and he was afraid that she’d have to take on too much responsibility and carry the brunt of the work in order to live up to their families’ names. But they were only kids, right? He waved away his own worries—it’s not like they’d have to join in on this right away. Their parents didn’t even know that we found out about all of this yet.

-------- When the sun just began to set, the two friends snuck their way back to the barn under the calm, orange glow of the sky. They crouched down at the spot where they lodged Hange’s invention through the ground and listened in—but to their disappointment, the adults were simply chatting and enjoying each other’s company. “Booooring,” Hange sighed. “Maybe we should just call it a night, huh Erwin?” As Erwin readied himself to walk Hange home, he overheard the quiet closing of a door and a new voice sound through the pipe. They locked eyes and quickly threw themselves down to press their ears close and listen.

“Kuchel!” Hange’s mother exclaimed, and they heard the soft sound of sniffles and happy cries of the reunion.

“KUCHEL??” Hange exclaimed loudly.

“Who’s Kuchel?”

“My mom’s friend! Her best friend!” Hange clasped her hands together and jumped around in excitement. “Oh I’ve always wanted to meet her, she sounds so nice and—“

“Well, well, well, what do we have here?” Hange and Erwin spun around to see Hange’s dad staring at the two of them and eyeing their little listening device. “Eavesdropping now, are we? You might have made something where you can hear us loud and clear, but did you consider the possibility that we could hear YOU loud and clear from the other side?” Erwin and Hange nervously laughed at his words—they really did forget to consider that. He bent down to look at Hange’s creation and his facade of playing “bad cop” parent melted away quite quickly, and he turned to his daughter and chuckled. “So how did you make it?” As the two Zoe’s babbled on about the intricacies of Hange’s ideas, Erwin continued to listen into the barn.

“Oh yes, Kenny’s alright, as annoying as ever, telling me we should give up on all this and that my son and I should just move out here with all of you. But how else would we get more intel without me on the inside?”

“But you can move in with us! We can adjust. Our plans can change! Kenny’s right, it’s probably safer for you to stay here. On top of that, I’m sure your son would love to meet Erwin and Hange,” Hange’s mother answered.

“I’m sure he would. He’s very quiet and doesn’t really have any friends. But I have no doubt they’ll all meet someday.” She smiled at the thought of Levi making new friends, but her smile slowly transitioned into a concerned frown. “It might have to wait a year or two, though. I don’t know if I trust Zeke anymore...”

“Well what do you mean by that? Hasn’t Zeke proved himself to us?” Erwin’s father asked.

“I’ve seen him spend some more time with Ozai recently. I can’t put a finger on it... but I think something in him has changed. I think we may be able to trust him for now, but we’ll have to see.”

The doors of the barn slammed open, revealing Hange’s father holding Hange in one arm and Erwin in the other. “I think we found our culprits!”

Mike and Nanaba’s parents burst into laughter, while Hange’s mother and Erwin’s father darted looks of deep disapproval at their children.

Hange’s dad playfully threw the two down into the pile of hay that the horses were working on, who seemed to neigh at them in disapproval. Hange and Erwin lost themselves in a fit of giggles that simply lightened up the room from the bleak conversation about Zeke. The rest of them began to catch up again and reminisce about the “good old days” while Erwin and Hange pet and fed the horses.

A few hours later, Kuchel made her way over to them, and the two suddenly felt shy, falling quiet.

Erwin’s eyes widened in recognition as she sat close to them. “You’re the beautiful lady in the picture,” Erwin accidentally whispered loud enough for Kuchel to hear.

Kuchel laughed, “You’re Erwin, right? You’re the spitting image of your father, and from what I hear, the only person smart and strong enough to keep this one under control right?” she said as she looked over to Hange.

“What, me?” Hange questioned. “Yes, you! Come here, dear,” she waved Hange towards her and gently pulled her glasses off, and wiped them clean with her sleeve, and carefully pushed them back onto Hange’s face. “And you’re the infamous, reckless Hange Zoe, correct?” She laughed, and Hange was simply mesmerized by her kind soul and the loving twinkle in her eyes.

After warming up to each other, Hange soon begged for stories from Kuchel about how all their parents became friends and both she and Erwin eagerly listened. The three of them talked for what felt like hours, until Erwin and Hange could barely keep their eyes open, their sheer curiosity and interest in Kuchel the only thing keeping them awake enough to listen.

“So that’s the sign of you all being undercover firebenders right?” Hange asked sleepily as she pointed to the little charm peeking out from pocket of her skirt. Kuchel was startled by her question, and sighed in defeat. “Well, neither of you should know anything about this until you’re old enough, but it was silly of me to think that you two wouldn’t figure that out by now being the nosy little kids you are,” she said with a small laugh. She pulled out the charm to show them. “When the time is right, we’ll all pass them down to you. It might not be as significant now—it was once used to prove that you were one to be trusted, but now that there’s not too many of us left...” Erwin noticed the hint of sadness that showed in her eyes.

“Well, it‘s still important, something to remember who you are and where you came from. Whenever you look at it, I hope it brings you peace and reminds you that it’s our responsibility to bring back stability and light to our nation, no matter how dark it may become. But who knows, it still might be important in recognizing who is a friend or foe someday. Whoever holds one is someone you can trust—I can promise you both that.”

Hange asked, “Kuchel, will we ever get to meet your son?”

“I have no doubt you will,” she said with a smile. “Hopefully soon. I think you both would be really good influences on him.” With a yawn, Hange asked one more question.

“What’s his name?”

But before they could hear Kuchel’s answer, both of them were fast asleep. Kuchel smiled lovingly at the two. She gently pulled off Hange’s glasses, pocketed them before picking her up. She chuckled at the sound of her snores as Hange’s face leaned against her chest— “Just like her mother,” she thought and suppressed full-on laughter. She then whispered quietly into Hange ear, hoping it would somehow register in her heart, despite her being asleep. “It was a pleasure to meet you, Hange. And.... I can’t wait for you meet Levi someday. Don’t let his little scowl fool you—he has a good heart.” Kuchel beckoned Hange’s mother over to pick up Erwin. “Come on, let’s go put these two to bed.”

-------- Levi could not believe Erwin’s story. But... there was no denying the description of his own mother.

He remembered the day before his mother died, and her words that morning echoed in his mind, “Levi, did you know that some friendships are strong enough to transcend lifetimes?” He wondered if that applied here—an explanation as to why his bond with Hange ran so deep, and why he felt like he’d known Erwin, Moblit, Mike, and Nanaba for much longer than he actually did.

They had been interconnected this whole time. As much as it frustrated him that knowing this would have made their meeting 3 years ago much easier, he felt a wave of happiness fall over him, and he was absolutely overwhelmed from head to toe.

“So, you’re Kuchel’s son.” Erwin remembered her kind eyes and gentle voice, and began to laugh.

“Oi, what the hell are you laughing on about?”

Erwin continued to laugh and started to wipe tears from his eyes. “I was just thinking about how you’re just...well let’s just say I never thought Kuchel’s son would turn out to be such a small, angry man.” He laughed, along with Nanaba and Mike. Levi grumbled but couldn’t help but let out a tiny smile.

After their laughter died down, Levi let the information sink in a little along with the situation at hand. “I didn’t know you met her...” he sighed. It seems there was a lot he didn’t know, and he wished he could turn back time and ask his mother everything.

Mike asked, “What did happen to your mom anyway? I know you said she was gone but...”

“She died after she saved a child from a house fire. My uncle and I were gone training for a weekend. I was only 12 at the time,” Levi said as he stared down at the ground.

“Since you and Hange are the same age... that must mean she died around the same Zeke betrayed everyone and had fire nation soldiers kill our parents,” Nanaba said quietly.

Each of them held their parents’ charms tightly in their hands. All was silent except for the rustling of leaves in the gentle breeze and the crackle of logs from their campfire. Dusk quickly fell upon them, the glow of the moon peeking through the light cloud cover.

Erwin’s eyes softened as he looked at Levi. “Well, we got some work to do, don’t we? Hange and Moblit are in trouble—I can only imagine what Zeke wants to do with them.”

Levi looked up at Erwin, noticing a minuscule flicker of worry in his eyes. “My bet... is using an Agni Kai versus Hange as public display to destroy anymore hopes of internal rebellion.”

The other three furrowed their eyebrows at this, gritting their teeth in anger.

“And... killing the last firebending Zoe would be the ultimate symbol of crushing any hope that may be left.”

Levi stood up and looked out into the horizon, in the direction Zeke and Kenny escaped the night before. He had a good idea of where they might be, but the exact coordinates of that base was kept hidden from everyone except for high ranking officials. However, knowing Hange, he had utmost confidence that she marked a way for them to find her. They'd just have to figure that out—and soon.

Levi balled his hands into tight fists and fierce determination flickered in his eyes.

“Well, we’re not gonna let her face Zeke alone, are we?” he whispered, not taking his eyes off the horizon.

--------

As Hange’s screams grew silent, Armin breathed a sad sigh of relief—either they stopped torturing her or she finally just passed out from the pain. Either way, she at least had some respite. He looked at the thick wooden bars of their cell, cross hatched like a solid net, trapping them inside. He could only assume that at least one guard was standing watch outside the metal door about 8 feet away from their cell—the only exit point in the room. How in the world were they supposed to get out of this mess? And more importantly, why were they targeting Hange? Where were the rest of the Scouts, anyway?

He turned back towards Moblit, “Hey so... what happened? How did you get captured?”

Moblit used his sleeves to wipe at his tears, revealing his swollen eyes, filled with a terrifying swirl of anger and hopelessness. “They ambushed us, Zeke and Kenny. They set everything on fire and we didn’t stand a chance—and they told us...” He looked down, tangling his fingers in his hair anxiously, like he was trying to pry the memories out from his mind.

“Told you what?”

“That Levi led them to us, and...that he was a firebender and... that he’s Kenny’s nephew.”

Sasha and Armin’s jaws dropped at the news, and Jean looked away, as he knew Levi’s secret. He wrestled with the possibility that he might have made a mistake in trusting him. “No... there’s no way I made the wrong call,” he thought.

“I’m not sure if I believe it, though. Hange was very adamant that we should trust Levi.” Happy memories of his relationship with Levi came rushing relentlessly into his head. “No, I don’t think we should stop trusting Levi.” He paused. “After that, the next thing I knew, I woke up restrained on the komodo rhino, and then saw all of you.”

“Moblit, why did they only take you, and no one else?” Sasha asked.

“Well Hange and Levi were in Ba Sing Se that night. And I think they were just using me as bait.”

“But why not any of the others, why just you?” Armin asked. “It doesn’t make any sense. Couldn’t they have just taken Erwin since he leads the Scouts?”

Moblit sighed. “I guess I better just fess up and explain everything, right? All of this would be easier if we were just on the same page.”

He fished a small, metal keychain from his pocket, a fire nation emblem etched into it, matching the one stitched into the red tapestry behind him. He held it up for them to see.

--------

A dull pain ached against the left side of Hange’s face, the skin around her eye throbbing alongside her steady heartbeat. She felt a warm hand pressing a dressing over her left eye, and saw strands of black hair hanging over her. She blinked her right eye, confused as to why she wasn’t still in the barn back home, laying in the hay next to Erwin and Kuchel.

“K-Kuchel?” Hange croaked.

She was answered with a soft whisper, “No, I’m sorry, I’m not Kuchel. My name is Pieck.”

“Oh…” Hange sighed, wishing she could return to dreamland, back to her old, yet comforting memories.

A harsh, gruff voice sounded from the dark corner of the room, “Kuchel’s been long gone, dearie.” From the shadows, Kenny stepped out into the light next to Pieck. “My dumb sister died saving some stupid kid a long time ago.” He peered down at Hange and scoffed. “Didn’t think she’d go that way, to be honest. I thought she’d at least have gone doing the pathetic work your parents and her other friends got into.”

“…Sister?”

“Yeah, my dumb old sister. What, the genius Hange Zoe hadn’t figure it out yet?”

“Sister… then… you’re Levi’s uncle??”

He let out a chilling laugh and began clapping—pathetic applause at her realization. Kenny stepped closer and bent down, staring right into Hange’s face. “Zeke told Porco to do much worse than what he ended up doing to you. You’re lucky I happened to walk in and stop him—what kind of self-respecting uncle would let his wonderful nephew’s girlfriend suffer right in front of him?”

Hange felt her brain short-circuit at his comment. “Oh I know how my nephew works, I saw how he looked at you after your cute little group took down that fire nation camp in the forest. All of you trying to be like your parents—their work was pathetic and so are you.”

Hange tried to make sense of everything and it was difficult to concentrate against the throbbing pain in her eye, but she quickly focused on the situation at hand—no need to show him weakness at anything he decided to say to her. She wasn't sure if she could trust him, though his tone seemed genuine underneath the rough exterior. She laughed to herself--she knew how to read and communicate with Ackermans.

“Their work wasn’t stupid, you pathetic old man,” Hange retorted.

Kenny laughed. “I told my sister not to get into that business. World’s gone to shit anyway, why not just live for yourself at this point?”

Hange began seething at this response. The only reason why she didn’t burst out flames at Kenny was because she was completely disoriented to her surroundings. Sadly, she figured she’d kiss her left-sided vision goodbye. Plus, she didn’t want to injure the girl next to her, as she was clearly very kind, tending to enemy’s wounds. “Maybe if you actually joined your sister back then, you could have helped them!”

“Well maybe if they all just gave that up, none of them wouldn’t have died and left you all as orphans. Have you ever thought of that?”

She stared back at him and spat as she spoke, “Well if you’re arrogant ass is ‘living for himself’ then why the hell do you care about that, and why would you decide to lay your loyalty to Zeke?” Kenny stepped away to make sure no one was within hearing range in the corridor. He walked quickly back towards Hange and leaned down close to her face.

“Listen here, little girl. My loyalty is to no one but myself. Zeke is simply offering the best deal I’ve gotten over last few years—we’re protected among his crew, plus the money’s good. And don’t get all disrespectful now, you’re lucky I didn’t let Porco take out that other eye of yours!”

“Or maybe you did it to keep Levi safe too, you DO care about him don’t you?” Hange teased.

Kenny scowled and grumbled at her comment—Hange stifled laughter as she now knew where Levi got it from.

“You’re delusional, Zoe. You’re just like your parents.” He turned around and slammed the door behind him—the metal reverberating around the walls of the room, the force causing her sensitive eye to throb again. Hange winced in pain.

Pieck held a cold compress to Hange’s face, and she sighed in relief. “Thank you,” Hange breathed out.

“Of course.”

Hange looked curiously at Pieck—“So, why are you helping me, anyway?”

Pieck answered softly, “Hange, I know what Zeke wants to do with you. But I don’t want him to go through with it.”

Hange held back the fear in her heart. She abandoned her curiosity at Zeke's plans with herself for a second--she needed to clear up other information with Pieck first.

“Why?”

“We’ve been friends since we were kids, and… I think he’s truly lost himself. This isn’t him, and it hasn’t been him in a long time. A lot has happened, Hange, and I think you’re just unfortunately stuck in the midst of it." She peeked out the doorway for any listening ears, and sat back down, whispering to Hange.

"There are guards everywhere though, and I can’t just let you out, plus your friends are still trapped somewhere in the building, and I don’t know exactly where. All I know, is that we have a decent amount of time before Zeke returns. In the meantime, rest.”

Hange breathed a sigh of relief—she was ridiculously lucky, she thought. Her mind scrambled to put together all the information she’s gathered and started on mustering up a plan to get everyone out of here safely. But one thing was really bothering her—was being friends with Zeke enough for this girl to help her, a Zoe, a target of the fire nation? There had to be something else--could it be?

“Pieck, can I ask you one more thing?”

She nodded, inviting her to continue.

Hange nodded back, “Is there any more reason why you’re trying to help me?”

Pieck smiled—Hange was just as sharp as the rumors told. She reached into her pocket and held out a luck charm, identical to everyone else’s, the fire nation emblem shining brightly back at Hange. Hange closed her eye and laughed, feeling nothing but hope and happiness. She wondered if Levi felt the same way at this same moment--after all the events of the past few hours, she thought it'd be quite likely that Levi, Erwin, Nanaba, and Mike were likely revealing their charms to each other right around now. It was about time.

#i apologize in advance for how boring this chapter is #a lot of this is just self service lmfao #does it move the plot?#maybe?#is it mildly interesting?#possibly?#how many licks does it take to get to the center of a tootsie pop?#the world may never know #levihan #levihan fanfic #hange zoe #levi ackerman #hanji zoe #snk #aot

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gummygowon · 5 years ago

Text

dreamers | jung wooyoung

word count: 4.8k

genre: angst, fluff

best friends to lovers!

warnings: sad lmao

third person pov

it was a quiet friday night which was weird for a group of highschoolers. nothing was really going on, in terms of parties and high school games which was rare but it finally felt nice to not feel hungover for a whole weekend.

y/n and wooyoung were chilling on her bed after their friends had left her house. wooyoung lived a couple doors down from y/n's house and didn't feel like leaving just yet.

ever since y/n moved into the neighborhood in third grade, the two had become inseparable. the duo would tell each other everything from stupid crushes to ranting about how their favorite arcade game was rigged. and tonight was another one of those nights were the two could talk until the sun rose.

tonight's topic was about their futures and what they wanted to do since they were now seniors and adulthood was coming closer everyday.

"woo?" y/n asked, fiddling with one of her plushies.

"yes, y/n." wooyoung perked up his head from his phone.

"what are your plans after college?"

wooyoung paused for a moment, forming his answer carefully. "i don't think i'm going to college after high school."

"huh? what are you going to do then?" y/n asked, surprised her best friend wasn't going to some sort of culinary school since he would not stop cooking.

"i know it's kind of dumb but i wanna be an idol." wooyung confessed sheepishly.

"it's not dumb, woo." you argued back. "i mean you are one of hell of a dancer and you can sing. just send it."

his cheeks flushed a little bit at her comments. "are you sure? what if-"

"jung wooyoung. look at me." y/n said as she grabbed his wrists.

the boy looked up at her with doubt and worry washed over his face.

"you got amazing vocals that i'm pretty sure angels are jealous of you and you can literally beat anyone in a dance battle. including me, which is saying a lot." y/n joked as she flipped her hair.

it was true though. y/n was a killer dance and when her and wooyoung danced together, circles would form around them at parties.

"if you want to become an idol. become an idol. i want to brag to everyone that i'm bestfriends with the jung wooyoung."

wooyoung rolled his eyes at her and pulled his hands to hips. "wow, you really just want me for the clout huh?"

"no!" y/n answered and lightly punched him in the shoulder. "but seriously, i'll support you no matter what. hell i'll watch one of your practices if they even allow that."

"i don't think they would allow that y/n."

"whatever, just send me videos of you dancing at least." y/n huffed and crossed her arms.

"of course. i promise to send you weekly videos."

"good, i'll be waiting for those." she smiled at him.

"y/n, what are you going to do afterwards?" wooyoung asked, leaning back on his hands.

"i want to join the navy." her eyes glowed as she talked. "i want to help protect our country and working overseas seems so much fun."

wooyoung watched in amusement as his best friend begin to drabble on about her plans after high school. "how are am i supposed to send you my weekly dance videos then?"

"through a flash drive duh. unless they allow sailors access to computers but i doubt it. just write to me and send a flash drive over."

"you really want me to spend money on flash drives?" wooyoung sarcastically asked.

"yes if you're gonna become an idol, i am going to have to pay for a ticket to your concert aren't I?"

"i mean, i guess. but i can probably get you free ones."

"nah, there's no fun in that." y/n said as she waved her hand, shooing away that idea. "i want to fight over people for barricade tickets."

wooyung laughed at her dumb dream. "okay, do whatever you want y/n."

two months later, y/n was helping out wooyung practice for his audition for bighit. the poor kid could not stop stressing out about his audition that was in a few days.

wooyoung had been non stop preparing ever since he found out the audition date. after school, he did his homework right away and then went straight to practicing his vocals and dancing.

on the weekends and when y/n had light homework loads during the week she would help out as much as she can.

today, wooyoung had probably been dancing for almost two hours in his backyard. he was constantly tweaking and perfecting dances that y/n was sure that his hair was going to turn gray before the audition even came.

"woo." y/n walked over to the speaker and paused the song. "you need to take a break dude. you've been at it for two hours now."

wooyoung inhaled deeply, he was trying his best not to snap at her for just trying to help him out. "give me five more minutes please. i know i can get it down. i just need a little more time."

"wooyung, give your body a break. it wouldn't hurt to take a five minute break." y/n said, her voice a little more sterner.

"y/n just please!" wooyung shouted, instantly regretting raising his voice at her. "just please give me a little longer and i promise, i'll stop."

"fine. i'll be inside." y/n sighed.

she couldn't get mad at him even though it was so tempting to just snap back at him and whack him in the face. but she understood the pressure and stress he was feeling at the moment.

instead, she took out her anger on the watermelon in front of her. cutting the watery fruit, a little more harshly than normal.

after she was done, wooyung had walked back into the house, dripping in sweat.

"finally, you're done. you know, you have to take more care of yourself once you start training." she scolded at him.

"that's if, i get in." wooyoung corrected her, wiping away his sweat with a towel.

"keep thinking negatively and i'll stab you." y/n threatened, half jokingly and half not. it certainly didn't help that her tone came out more serious since she was annoyed at him.

"alright, alright. i'll stop." wooyung put his hands in the air as soon as he saw y/n point the sharp knife at him.

"good. now eat and then we can work on your vocals." y/n pushed a plate full of watermelon and strawberries towards him.

"thank you." wooyung said as he reached for a strawberry.

"for what?" she asked as she washed her hands before snagging a slice of watermelon.

"for helping me with everything." wooyung looked at his best friend wondering how he would survive without her.

y/n looked up and met his gaze and she couldn't help but blush. "it's alright. i wanna see you perform when i get back from the navy."

"speaking of the navy, did you apply yet?" he asked in between chews.

"uhh, not yet. i've been busy." the h/c girl answered sheepishly as she picked up another piece of fruit to distract herself.

wooyung groaned, "it's because you're helping me isn't it?"

he felt even more worse since he snapped at her.

"no, no. it's not that. my parents are trying to talk to me out of it."

the boy looked skeptically at her. "are you sure? i don't want to get in the way of your dreams."

y/n scoffed at him. "are you dumb? you're going to be with me throughout this whole process, whether you like it or not."

wooyung smiled at her brightly. "yes, i will and i will be buying flash drives just for you. so you can watch my dance videos."

"that's right baby. catch me in the front row of all your concerts." y/n dramatically declared.

"with the tickets you'll refuse from me."

"just let me fight your future fans over them please."

"fine, it'll make up for the cost of the flash drives."

"fair enough." she laughed.

two weeks later, y/n's letter from the navy arrived in her mailbox after dinner.

once she had saw the mail truck come by she immediately ran to the mailbox with her slippers barely on her feet.

her hands were shaking as she fumbled with the keys and struggled to open it. y/n skimmed over the pile of letters in her arms until she found the one thing she was looking for. she shoved the rest of the letters back inside the mailbox so she could retrieve them later.

with trembling fingers and her heart beating so fast, y/n ripped the envelope opened. she could feel herself start to shake once she read the big fat congratulations on the paper.

y/n screamed out of pure happiness and rushed to wooyoung's house, completely forgetting about the rest of the letters in her family's mailbox.

she knocked on the door so harshly, anyone would of thought that she was the FBI about to barge into their home.

"wooyoung!" y/n exclaimed.

"y/n, what is it?" he asked, confused at her super excited state and then it hit him, "is it the navy?"

she hummed in response, "i got in, i'm leaving on saturday!"

"oh my god, y/n." wooyoung congratulated her before enveloping her in a warm hug. "i'm so happy for you."

"thank you, woo." y/n pulled back, her smile never leaving her face. "how about you did you get in?"

"about that..." he trailed off looking to the side.

y/n's face fell and before she could even say anything, wooyoung interrupted.

"just kidding. i got in." wooyoung's face returned back to his happy self, a cheeky grin spread across his face.

"you fucker." y/n cursed as she slapped him on the arm. "i was going to cry for you. "

"owwww." he whimpered, rubbing his arm.

the girl pulled him into a hug which wooyoung slowly returned.

"look woo, we're achieving our dreams together." y/n smiled into his chest.

wooyoung hugged her even tighter. "i love you."

the two never had outwardly said that phrase, even in a friendly way. which is why it caught y/n off guard by a mile.

it was a definite no brainer that she loved him. at first it was in a best friend way but over time and the many idol practices, y/n always left his house wondering about her feelings for him. it was so cliche of her to fall for her childhood best friend but she couldn't help it.

wooyoung was there for her for everything, ever since she moved here. and of course, y/n was always there for him. feelings were bound to be caught, one way or the other. it was just matter of who would fall first.

"i mean uh," wooyoung pulled away quickly, his cheeks flushed a bright red.

y/n's adrenaline was skyrocketing, "fuck it."

she grabbed her best friend by his shirt and pulled him into a kiss.

wooyoung froze against her lips before kissing back. he didn't really know what was happening but he loved every second of it.

when the two of them pulled back for air, y/n was grinning. "i love you too, woo."

the trainee couldn't help but smile even brighter. but y'n's face fell at the thought of the future. she was leaving for the navy in a couple of days and wouldn't return for months. and wooyoung was starting his training soon. it was an absolutely, terrible idea to start a relationship considering the timing, but she would do it all for him.

he noticed her expression and reached for her cheek, caressing it. "i'll wait for you, y/n."

"really? i won't back for almost two years. i don't want you to-"

"y/n, i would wait an eternity if it i meant i could be with you." he reassured, staring deep into her eyes.

whatever worries y/n had were disappearing. it felt comforting to hear the one person who she loved and cared about, would be waiting for her when she came back.

wooyoung pulled her in for another comforting hug, "i will always love you, no matter how far away you are."

a tear slipped down y/n's cheek as she hugged him even tighter. falling in love with your best friend had never felt so bittersweet.

since then, wooyoung and y/n spent as much time as they could together before she left for the navy.

but now, the day they both dreaded had arrived.

y/n's suitcase was packed into her family's car as she said her goodbyes to her siblings and grandparents.

"you look so beautiful." y/n's grandpa cried, as he lifted his hand to touch her cheek.

the sailor was wearing her uniform with her long hair was slicked back into a bun.

"thank you, grandpa." y/n smiled as she pulled away to say goodbye to her other friends.

and of course, wooyoung's family was there. she saved her goodbyes for them last.

y/n went down the line of his family, hugging them and saying thank you for coming to see her go off.

when she reached wooyoung, the breath in her throat hitched as tears threatened to spill out. y/n promised to herself that she wouldn't cry before she left but for wooyoung and her parents, they were the exception.

wooyoung hugged her so tightly which y/n didn't mind at all. if she could, she would spend the rest of her life in his arms.

"i love you, woo." she mumbled into his chest.

"i love you too, y/n. good luck out there."

y/n pulled away reluctantly, "you too. i will be waiting for your first concert."

wooyoung smiled at her sadly and tugged at her wrist. y/n looked back at him with a confused expression before he pulled her into a passionate kiss. he didn't really care that his parents were there at the moment, he just needed to remember what her lips felt like before he forgot.

"i'll always be there with you." wooyoung whispered, as he pressed something into her hand.

y/n looked down at her hand to see a red rose hanging on a gold chain, "thank you, woo."

he nodded his head as he let you go.

he watched with teary eyes as you drove away but something in him sparked. another drive for him to work hard and achieve his dream.

dear wooyoung,

i miss you so much, it's beginning to drive me insane. but, i want to let you know that everything here is going smoothly despite these rocky ass waves. i've adjusted to almost everything around here except for waking up incredibly early. i've made new friends and have become really close with my roomate which is a relief because i don't know if i could deal with a shitty ass roomate. anyways, how's life back at home and how's training at bighit? have you seen taehyung yet? haha. i'm kidding. or not. but besides the point, tell me how life as a trainee. oh and before i forget, i figured out a way to watch your dance practice videos so please send them. i'll pay you back through buying barricade tickets alright? also, tell your parents i say hi please!

with much love,

y/n :)

p.s. i love you

dear y/n,

i miss you a lot too. even my parents do haha and they say hello back and hope you're doing well. i'm glad to hear that you're enjoying the navy life but i'm surprised that you're able to wake up so early haha. but don't worry, everything back home is great, just a little chaotic sometimes. trainee life is definitely tiring and hard but it's probably not much compared to what you have to do. i don't wanna know about the million, spirit-breaking things you do but if it makes you happy, i did see taehyung. even though it was for like two seconds because we were just passing in the halls. i hope one day i can see them practice live. maybe i'll see jimin. but anyways, i've made some friends too. we're gonna audition for a survival show called mixnine together. i'm really excited. i think you would like them. they're really funny but not as funny as me though. ok, i got to go now before my mom yells at me for staying up so late. so, i'll see you in my dreams. goodbye!

love,

wooyoung ;0

p.s. enjoy the dance cover i did with yeosang (someone who i met at bighit)

p.s.s. i hope the flash drive gets to you safely, i don't trust the postal services

two years later...

dear woo,

i have managed to secure tickets to your first concert in seoul thorough my parents. and yes, my parents had to do some fighting with some of your fans to help me secure a barricade ticket. i am utterly disappointed that i didn't get to do the fighting myself but i guess i'll just have to wait for your next tour. :( but on a more positive note i'm coming home soon! i'm so excited. the first thing we are doing though is getting some good dessert. i'm tired of eating the wack ass "desserts" here. oh! maybe we can go to a garden or something i don't know but i'm tired of looking at the water. some nice, pretty flowers will be much better to look at. speaking of flowers, i still have your rose necklace that you gave me. i wear it all the time except for when we do swimming exercises. i don't trust myself enough to bring it in the water. anyways before i have to go, i want to say how proud i am of you for coming so far in the idol industry. it seems like forever ago that i was helping you out for audition for bighit. i get to brag to people now that i'm dating a kpop idol hehe. say hi to the boys for me! and please send another video of you guys dancing so, me and my roomie can copy it. when i come home we can perform your songs together. oh my god that would be so much fun. ok, ok i really gotta go now but i love you and please take care of yourself! (or ask san too, either one works)

with much love,

y/n!

p.s. i'll be sitting a little bit to the right of the stage.

dear y/n,

i'm sad to hear that you couldn't fight my fans for barricade tickets but i am thankful that you are coming to our first show. i'll be on the lookout for you in the audience. and afterwards, find my parents and they'll take you backstage so i can see you again. did i tell you that our lightsticks came in and they're actually so cool. i'll see if i can snag you one and don't even think about having to pay back okay? you can pay me back by spending as much time as you can with me when you're back home. anyways, i wanna thank you for supporting me ever since i brought up the idea of becoming an idol. you were probably the only person who didn't laugh straight in my face for thinking such childish things but look at where we are now. i get to perform my first show with you in the barricade. and look at you, i got a badass girlfriend in the navy who can probably kick anyone's ass. and she can dance like??? i think win when it comes to having the coolest girlfriend ever. and you bet the first thing we're gonna do together is dance. i'm debating about teaching you the pirate king choreo or the say my name one. i don't know you can pick. also, yeosang, san, hongjoong, seonghwa, mingi, and jongho all say hello back and are very excited to finally meet you. i gotta go now, i have to wake up early for some costume fittings but i'll send some pics over too. i love you!

love,

wooyoung :)

it was the day of ateez's first concert and wooyoung didn't even know if y/n was back from the navy yet because they could never really say when they're coming home for obvious reasons. but wooyoung couldn't help but pace around the dressing room.

it was definitely not the perfect timing since he was currently freaking out about twenty million things all at once. it was their first ever concert and everything could terribly wrong in wooyoung's mind. like what if y/n thinks that he performed terribly tonight or even worse what if she leaves in the middle of the concert because they were so bad. but he didn't even know if she was back in south korea since she hadn't called him or anything. not even her parents had called him. maybe they wanted to surprise him? no. that's dumb she already bought tickets so-

"wooyoung." his leader called out to him. ever since they had arrived at the venue, wooyoung had been non stop spacing out and mumbling things to himself. everyone in the group was of course nervous, but none of them were this anxious.

"huh?" the young idol snapped his head to hongjoong. "i mean yes."

"are you seriously okay? you haven't been able to stop mumbling to yourself since we got out of the car." he asked full of concern.

"yes, it's just that y/n is supposed to come and-" wooyoung rambled, fiddling with the collar of his shirt.

hongjoong put his hands on both of his shoulders, "woo, i am going to need you to calm down first. y/n is probably back home safe and is probably getting ready right now with her friends to come see us."

wooyoung slowly nodded to himself to convince himself that everything was okay.

"take a deep breath, ok?" hongjoong instructed, breathing along with him. "relax, she's going to come and she's gonna see how much you've improved since the last time she saw you."

his leader was right. wooyoung had improved in so many ways, from his singing to his confidence in performing. he should be excited to show off how much he improved to her.

"you're right." the young idol nodded his head. his worries about y/n were slowly being lifted away.

hongjoong smiled at him before patting his back.

during the concert everything was going smoothly. there was no costume slip ups or them forgetting their lines it was going great. but wooyoung couldn't find y/n amongst the many faces in the crowd. it was worrying him but he decided to not let any negative thoughts cloud his mind mid performance.

until, they were about to perform their last song and his parents ran to their dressing room. tears were streaming down his mother's face.

"what's going on? are you okay mom?" wooyoung asked immediately, he wrapped his mom in a hug.

"it's y/n." his dad started in soft voice.

"what? what happened? is she okay?" he asked, his head snapping to his dad. it was a miracle how he didn't break his neck.

"honey, she couldn't make it. there was an accident and something happened to the ship." his mom cried.

"what do you mean she didn't make it?" wooyoung couldn't believe a word they were saying. there was no way in hell she died. she was too young. wooyoung didn't even get a chance to say i love you again in person.

"her ship went down and there was only a few survivors and-"

"no. you're lying." the shocked idol shouted as he backed away from his parents only to be caught in san's chest.

"sweetheart, they couldn't find her." his mom revealed as she wiped a tear away from her face. "she was supposed to arrive yesterday."

wooyoung didn't say anything but fall to the floor. every ounce of happiness he had was gone. he couldn't believe it. there was no way.

"you guys are going back up now." their manager shouted to them.

"we wanted to tell you later but-"

"that's enough, honey." his dad shushed. he didn't want to make things worse than they already were.

"woo, come on." san said as he helped him up.

he didn't say anything but followed his members out of the dressing room.

wooyoung didn't know how he was supposed to continue singing when he just found out that love of his life died.

"sing for her, alright?" san comforted right before they walked back on stage.

they were performing star 1117. the last song of the night. which was good for wooyoung cause he just wanted this night to be over already.

once mingi started singing, wooyoung lost it. as well as his fellow members but they weren't crying for the same reasons he was.

they were crying because after all the neverending practices and the amount of frustrating times sitting in the sound booth trying to get the perfect sound was all worth it. they were finally doing what they love in front of people who genuinely enjoyed their music and were excited for what's to come from them.

he should be crying for the same reasons they were or maybe he was a little bit. he couldn't tell what he was feeling anymore. he just felt empty.

san watched his friend break down and went over to him for support. he was never much of crier but this performance was close to breaking his wall.

in the eyes of a fan, it looked like san was merely comforting a crying wooyoung. but what they didn't know was why he was crying.

finally the song had ended and almost everyone was crying or at least on the verge of tears. the boys stood in line at the very front of the stage with bittersweet looks as they bowed down to the crowd.

they all waved goodbye with smiling faces and wet eyes.

someone had tossed roses onto the stage which wooyoung of course picked up before heading backstage.

he couldn't even make it to their dressing room before crying again. san had wrapped an arm around his shoulder to keep him balanced as he guided them back to the safety of their dressing room.

wooyoung had sunk into of the couches there and just let everything out. this wasn't how he was supposed to be feeling. he was supposed to be happy and thankful that their first concert was a huge success. he should be happily celebrating with his friends and with y/n but not anymore.

all the members had took turns in comforting him. they never got the chance to meet y/n but they did see lots of photos of her and heard many stories from wooyoung. she sounded like an amazing person to be around and they were heartbroken that they would never get to meet her.

all the fans had left the venue by now and wooyoung was sitting on the edge of the stage. his feet was dangling off the edge while he twirled the rose in his hands. he was done crying for now and spoke softly to himself.

"i wish you were here y/n. the concert was a huge success. i'm really thankful that you helped me practiced for my bighit audition. i think i owe you a lot for that. i don't know if i would've stuck with my dream if it wasn't for you." he mumbled. "i miss you like crazy, it's not even funny. but i know you're watching me from up there and you're probably telling me to stop crying" wooyoung chuckled to himself. "but i don't think i'll stop for awhile. i love you, y/n and i'll never stop loving you."

"wooyoung." yeosang called for him. "we're leaving now."

the heartbroken idol smiled softly at his friend before getting up. he kissed the rose and he could've sworn he felt y/n's soft lips on it. maybe he was just dreaming or maybe it was the exhaustion catching up to him. wooyoung crouched down and left the rose a little to the right of the stage.

"for you, my little dreamer."

ever since that night, wooyoung had left a little rose sticker on the right side of the stage at every single venue he performed at.

it was his way of remembering y/n. it was so that she could be with him at every concert or award show.

wooyoung was even gifted a similar rose necklace from his group. he couldn't stop crying that night and thanked them repeatedly.

every night before he went to bed he would touch the rose and whisper "i love you, y/n."

sometimes he would dream about her and wake up crying. thankful, he got to see her again in his dreams. because that's what they were.

dreamers.

159 notes · View notes

an-annyeoing-writer · 5 years ago

Text

Chanyeol x Reader: a day from humble slave’s life. [+18]

Word count: ~5k

Warnings: s*xual themes, slavery, objectification, minor fat shaming. Please, don’t mistake this with non-con, for it’s not, but if you feel like an impression may trigger you too, simply don’t read it.

This is a fantasy. As much as I tried to portray Chanyeol’s personality accordingly, it has little to do with how I see him as a person, and - especially - with who he really is. Nonetheless, this is NOT meant to insult anyone.

The story was originally a birthday gift for my friend, and therefore, Reader’s age is specified and it’s also mentioned to be her birthday - forgive me that ^_^

7 A.M.

Even before your eyes open, the first streak of consciousness is how you welcome the world.

It’s not going to be a good morning, you think at first; your eyes are sticky as soon as you try to pry them open, your muscles ache, your hair is a mess. How disgraceful, you think. You can’t show yourself to the world like this. Thank God for the attached bathroom.

Look pretty, you were once told, that’s all you can do well.

The words, back then, didn’t sound half as appreciative as you considered them now. But with time, they became a motto, a goal, a purpose. They did say that you’re not good for anything else, but they also said you’re good at this one thing.

Look pretty for the one who deserves it. Whatever your Owner shall want to do with your body, you shall obey.

And if He doesn’t say anything, if He doesn’t even look at you, living His life as if you didn’t exist, then the least you can do is be pretty as to not offend Him: you owe Him your best quality, after all.

The shower is over, the make-up done, the clothes, selected carefully, wrapped around your silhouette as to expose what’s the best in it. The corset is so tight it hurts. But it’s worth it if that’s what He wants.

Off to eat a breakfast. The corset’s gonna get even worse after you eat, but that’s also the price you agree to pay. Eat, to stay healthy: not stuff yourself, not pleasure yourself with sweets. Eat to stay healthy and not cause Him any problems, so that your body stays in the best shape. He expects no less.

He’s there, you realize with surprise. He doesn’t stay around too often and usually doesn’t eat the breakfast at home. But He’s there, sitting in the dining room. Someone is serving Him a breakfast: one of many others, men and women, that He owns. They’re useful, you think. They can cook, they can keep the house clean.

All you can do, is to look pretty.

So you bow deeply as soon as you see Him, and when His gaze finally meets yours, you kneel on the floor next to the door, eyes on the ground as to not annoy Him, letting Him enjoy the sight of what He owns. It probably looks weird, you think, a woman kneeling on the floor with other people around, not an intimate situation at all – she’s not His lover, after all, just a property.

You don’t know if He looks at you, but your posture is perfect as if He did.

When He stands up and goes to the door, you dare not to look up.

When He’s right next to you, His fingers find your lips and put a small chocolate on your tongue, a token of approval; the chocolate is so, so good that you melt in its taste, and you take as much of it as you can, playing with it in your mouth long after He leaves without a word.

10 A.M.

Everyone knows, more or less, what’s His job: the exact crimes remain unknown, though, and His secrets stay safe: no one in the house would ever dare to spread them around. And it’s not like it’d be easy to do, either – only some of you are allowed to leave the house in the first place, and you’re not one of these. There’s no reason for you to leave, anyway, since everything you’d need: cosmetics, clothes – there’s nothing more you’d need, right? – other people only give you, and you’re given the exact things that suit His taste, no room for you to do wrong. There’s no reason to give Him surprises, either: you’re like a product, a window’s curtains that are changed to their owner’s liking, not picked randomly in a shop, but chosen by what he likes and what suits the rest of the house.

Your dress now is made of the same purple fabric as sofas in the living room when you’re called over and enter the spacious room with huge windows; a few familiar faces sit in various places all around – not your friends by any means, but people you just saw here before.

“Are you, for real?” one of them says. Your Owner laughs in response.

“See for yourself, Xing” He answers and motions you over.

A small movement of His fingers, a signal you’ve been taught long ago.

On your knees, it says, and you instantly catch the cue, a bit nervous at first, glancing at the stranger’s face just to make sure he’s alright with it: out of pure politeness, because you know that even if he didn’t like it, you’d still do it – it’s not him you’re here to obey, after all.

You don’t ask questions as you unzip his jeans, all the modesty gone as your lips wrap around his cock, as casually as it’d be to hand him a glass of water, no objections: you’re so good, so obedient.

You glance to your side with your eyes slightly blurry from tears. You see an amused, but content smile on your Owner’s face and that’s all the motivation you need to grow bolder, to suck harder. Your throat is not so good just yet, it still needs to get better, you realize, and you choke yourself on the man’s length, punishing yourself for not being good enough. It amuses them. You feel their eyes on you, a quiet sound of someone taking a photo, tears run down your face, your makeup smudged, your hair messy from where the man grabbed it, holding onto it as he set a righter pace for you to follow.

When he cums, you hold still. You swallow what you’re given.

“Thank you, sir” you say in a rough voice, your throat strained. The man smiles at you kindly, and you can’t help but smile back.

You know better than to ignore your Owner any longer though, and you turn to face Him, still on your knees of course, eyes on His shoes.

“Look at me” He instructs. You obey.

He stares at you with a smirk.

“Feels good, doesn’t it?”

“Yes, sir” you reply honestly.

“You can go. Don’t interrupt us.”

Your duty is fulfilled. It feels so good to be useful.

1 P.M.

You’ve been sitting in your bathtub for what feels like hours, but it’s okay, it feels good, the water stays warm, your bathroom is so luxurious you can’t help but savor every minute of having access to it: not owning it, of course, but it’s nice nonetheless.

Everything in this room belongs to Him: the tub with heating system, the thick walls, the expensive cosmetics and the softest towels, and, of course, you.

How much do you love to be owned? He asked you once: do you like where you are, what you are?

Yes, sir.

Don’t you just say that to please me?

I mean it, sir.

Do you, really? Come here, then. Show me how grateful you are. Let your mouth convince me, but not with words.

It felt intimate, to be allowed so close to the one you looked up to. Being allowed to please Him was a blessing, and you wished you’d do it more often, but never dared to ask: you’re too low to demand His attention, so even if He was to say no, it’d be a waste of His precious time to consider your plea in the first place.

So instead, you savored every moment He allowed you, as much as you savored the memory of His small groans, the way He relaxed under your fingers, leaning back in His armchair and not even looking at you, but clearly enjoying this little paradise His humble slave served Him. Oh, how well He trained you, you know just what to do to make Him feel good. He deserves the best of you for He’s the one who gave it to you in the first place.

The memory sends a pleasant tingling down to your core and your fingers instinctively reach down, willing to relieve yourself.

But you stop yourself halfway.

You’re not meant for receiving pleasure, stupid, you remind yourself. There’s a smile on your lips at the thought. You’re good, you won’t do this, it’s not something He’d enjoy knowing of, and therefore there’s no reason to do it.

You choose to stay desperate and you’re proud of this choice.

There’s knocking on your room’s door.

“[F/n]? You’ve been sitting there for ages. Come out, I have something for you!”

“Ah, five minutes!” you call back.

“I’ll wait, then!”

You choose to rest just a little bit longer. She can wait, you decide. The water is just too warm.

1:30 P.M.

“Seriously, I thought you died in there” are the first words you hear upon leaving the bathroom. Your friend seems annoyed and it’s, truthfully, justified. But then her face brightens up. “Ah, look, I’ve got something good!”

She has boxes with various types of food sprawled over your bed, variety of tastes, mostly healthy, but some sweets as well, and these are mainly things you haven’t tasted in ages since you didn’t really consider yourself worthy of such luxury.

But then, you haven’t seen her lately, you missed her: she always brings something good to share, either be it food or jewelry you can wear for some time before returning it. These are little breaks in your routine, small pieces of something different than you usually experience. It’s good to recall how usual, human life looks like, even if you’re back to your own usual self soon later.

You notice a new, leather collar wrapped around her neck. You feel like you’d look good in one if you had it, too. Your Owner just never thought of idea as such, but who knows, maybe He’ll see her and decide it’s a good one? You can always hope for it.

“What’s that?” you ask, picking a random box. It smells good, sea-like.

“I have completely no idea, but it tastes good” she replies, stuffing her face with some vegetables she holds with sticks. You learned already that as much as she likes food, she never uses her brain to memorize any dish names. It’s not like she has too much brain to begin with, so who cares, anyway. She’s not a cook, but a slave like you, a different kind, but just as devoted and happy with her place. “Ah, try this.” She fetches some sort of candy and puts it by your lips, reminding you briefly of what happened this morning. You take the candy, it melts in your mouth almost instantly.

A few seconds later, her lips are on yours instead, and you taste the pepper with cinnamon she just ate; it’s a strange connection, but it tastes good, and, somehow, it suits the candy’s flavor still present on your tongue.

You feel stiff at first, but quickly melt into the sensation. You weren’t caressed like this in ages, your mouth has only one purpose on daily basis; it feels nice. Her hand is soon on your breast, squeezing it through the thin fabric of your silk bathrobe. She doesn’t wait long before pushing the fabric off you, your fresh and clean body, exposed to the air, getting still hotter with every passing second.

The door creaks and you two finally part; your eyes are on the man that stands in the door frame, his eyebrows raised at your friend as she lets out an awkward laugh.

He rolls his eyes, only half-amused with what he just saw.

“We’re going home” he says sternly. Then, without bidding you a good-bye, she gets off the bed and runs to him, and soon, you’re left alone. You didn’t even notice that your robe was off all this time.

But at least you get to keep the food, right?

5 P.M.

“Why aren’t you eating?”

He doesn’t invite you over for dinner often, so you try to enjoy it as much as possible. Yet, your stomach is still full – it wasn’t a wise choice to eat that much at once. You feel like you will blow up if you eat a gram more of the pork in front of you.

“I’m sorry, I’m not hungry, I ate earlier” you explain yourself. It’s not a reply that satisfies Him, but He doesn’t pry, and you hope that He will just brush it off.

“Eat.”

You don’t object, you know you can’t. Your stomach is so full you want to throw up. You take a bit of the pork and slowly munch on the meat, hoping that it’ll become more bearable with time. You don’t want to stretch your stomach like this, you’ll feel hungry more often, and what will He say if you gain weight?

You have to endure.

“What did you eat?” He asks.

“Quinoa with vegetables, fish, oats with milk, candy” you answer truthfully. There were some other funny combinations that you consumed, but you decide these are the essentials.

“Hmm, that sounds like a lot. What if you get fat?” He asks calmly.

“I, uh… I don’t think it’s possible if it’s just one time” you try to state so as humbly as possible, but you feel like no matter what you said, it wouldn’t sound good. Maybe you should have apologized instead? Asked Him to be merciful?

“Are you trying to argue with me?”

“No, sir” you answer instantly, your face showing fear at the thought; you wouldn’t dare, no, never. He seems to see it, the way you shiver at the accusation, and He smiles. You’re relieved. You know that He may punish you, that He may use it as opportunity to give you pain, and even tell you that you deserve it – to not feel bad about doing it to you. However, knowing that it’ll give Him satisfaction, that He won’t do it because He’s authentically mad at you, but just wants to play with His toy, is what makes you happy and excited for what’s to come.

For now, at least.

“I thought so” He just says and goes back to His meal.

Just as He told you to, you continue to eat your portion, trying to stuff yourself as much as possible, knowing that your stomach will hurt even more, and thanking God for not wearing the corset any longer.

“On your knees” He suddenly says when you’re almost done. You don’t object, you do as you’re told. “Crawl there” He motions you to sit nearby, not too close to him, off the rug and on the cold panels, hard under your knees.

He leans chin on His hand, watching you, almost bored.

“Make yourself vomit.”

You swallow your saliva nervously and glance up at Him, hoping that He’s just joking, testing your reactions. His face doesn’t change though, and, as you hesitate, His eyebrows raise in doubt. Will you do it? Will you humiliate yourself as a punishment? Will you ruin yourself once again, not through sex, but through being genuinely disgusting in front of Him?

Will He even like it? How could He enjoy such sight? Won’t He feel sick, since He barely just ate? Is it really what He wants?

“What are you waiting for? Did you not understand me? Or should I go over there and push my own fingers down your throat? That’d be so gross. You don’t want me to dirty my hands, do you?”

You quickly shake your head. Of course, no, He doesn’t need to do something that disgusting. You’ll do it, you can do it.

You push your fingers into your throat until you feel the food go back, and you close your eyes tightly, throwing up all over the floor, sensing it dirty your legs, but refusing to look at it. It feels disgusting, painful, the acidic sensation in your mouth making you want to throw up again.

“Look at me.”

You obey. Your face is still twisted in disgust and He watches you, almost unmoved with the scene that just unfolded.

“Gross. Wash the floor, and yourself. Can’t keep it clean today, can you?” He snorts. “I’m not hungry anymore” He announces suddenly, then stands up and exits the room, leaving you on your knees among your own vomit, allowing you to dwell on your pathetic, miserable self.

You sit there, breathing heavily for what feels like an hour at least.

Then you stand up, still dirty, and still disgusting, probably stinking, too.

And for some reason, it feels good, because you just did what He told you to, and there’s nothing more fulfilling than listening to your Owner’s commands, no matter how destructive and unpleasant would they be, and how unwanted and unattractive they would make you seem.

8 P.M.

You lie in your bed, exhausted. Your skin feels dry from all the washing today, especially since you spent so long in the tub earlier. You have your thin robe back on, and your eyes are getting sticky from how tired you are, so you close them and let your body relax. That’s so good, that’s so comfortable.

You don’t know how long you lie there, drifting off despite the early hour, before something rouses you out of the blissful state. You open your eyes and look around: the room is empty, lamps still off, but some of the street light entering through the windows allows you to see the surroundings rather clearly, especially since your eyes already accustomed with the darkness.

And said surroundings are quiet and empty, but your instinct tells you that you should get up just because, and you choose to listen to it: you’re not that tired anymore, you got a bit of rest and this day is far from over.

You stand up and turn on the lamp on your bedside table, its soft light brightening up the whole room, although not too intensely.

The door suddenly opens and a woman speaks to you from the corridor.

“Master wants to see you. Go to his room. Hurry.”

With that, she leaves, and you’re dumbstruck for a few seconds. You quickly realize your mistake: it’s not the time for you to be slow or hesitate. Whatever He wants, you’re here to deliver. It surprises you, though, He never makes requests like such. You wish to know if you should change into something more elegant, more suitable, just in case He’s not alone – the bathing robe exposes a bit too much and you’re worried that He wouldn’t appreciate it right now. Yes, more precise instructions would be appreciated.

But with what you’ve got, all you know is that you should hurry. You don’t take nor change anything, then, only making sure your hair looks presentable – the makeup is already gone, but it will have to stay this way – you fix the belt of your robe, too, not wanting it to slip by accident since you have nothing underneath.

You get up and go. You know where to go, although His room and yours are a few corridors apart – the mansion is big and you need to pass through all the most important places to get there, including the door to one of the living rooms and other servants’ bedrooms.

You knock on the door after a short hesitation: not too quiet, not too loud – it’s hard to measure, you rarely ever knock on any door, not to mention the door to His very bedroom.

“Come in.”

You open the door.

The bedroom is not that much larger than yours, but it seems more personal – there are souvenirs, ornaments, belongings that you don’t get to own, things that prove He owns this place.

And then He’s there: in sweatpants and nothing else, droplets of water randomly running down His back where He didn’t dry them with a towel, or where they slipped from His wet hair. You don’t get to enjoy the sight for long though, because He grabs a shirt and pulls it over His head, and you lower your gaze, realizing that staring probably wouldn’t be approved.

“Bend over the table” He instructs, still not looking at you. He walks around the room and enters the attached bathroom, doing all these small evening things: skincare routine, perfumes that seem to help Him sleep and so on. You stand where you were told to, trying to stop yourself from peeking curiously; it takes Him a few minutes of completely ignoring your presence before He finally sighs and turns to you.

He stands behind you, out of your sight. There’s a silence for a few moments before He suddenly pulls on your robe and throws its lower part over your upper back, exposing your behind. His hand pushes on your shoulder, forcing you lower, pressing you against the table’s surface. You don’t flinch.

“Spread your ass” He says, and you obediently move your hands to your cheeks; it feels awkward at first, the air hitting your most private parts, although you know already, there’s no private, and all of you belongs to Him only, all of you is for Him to see, judge and use. “More.”

It almost hurts and you wish you knew what exactly He sees back there; but you don’t. He doesn’t touch you, and a part of you wishes He did – you crave His touch, but you’re aware of your place, you learned to act accordingly.

You jump slightly when He unceremoniously pries your pussy open with His fingers, your hands tremble slightly – it feels so good, His fingers feel so good you could come just from feeling them on you, no matter where, really.

“I heard it’s your birthday today” He says suddenly. His two fingers dive into you and you struggle to keep your composure; your thoughts fly away before you manage to form them into an answer. He pulls His fingers out, spreading your apparent wetness all over your folds. “Is it true?” The touch disappears for a moment and you finally get a chance to breathe.

“Y-yes, sir” you force out.

“I see.”

His fingers are back there, rubbing you slowly a few times, as if checking for any deformations – of course there are none, but He checks nonetheless.

“What’s your age now?” He asks. You wonder if He really doesn’t know, it’s not like He has a reason to care.

“T-twenty one” you mumble in a strained voice.

“Twenty one. In centimeters, that’s how high heels you can only wear from tomorrow on, understood?”

“Y… Yes, sir.”

His hand must be stained with natural lubricant, you realize, as He moves it higher, smoothly pushing one finger into your ass. It’s a miracle you manage to stay still. He doesn’t dwell much on that place though; instead, He pulls out and neatly puts the robe back into place.

“Up and face me.”

Sometimes, you wish to be roughed up – to have your hair pulled roughly, to be manhandled. But He never does that. You know your place. His word is enough to make you do whatever He wants, so why be rough? He’d get unnecessarily tired, and you’re not worth of His sweat, are you?

You stand in front of Him, eyes down, His breath on top of your head, you almost feel His body warmth – you didn’t notice He’s so close, but He is, if you just reached out…

He doesn’t hesitate before pushing the robe open, exposing your front. His hand wraps around one of your breasts, squeezing it so hard and so suddenly you almost scream, your knees trembling. You force yourself to stand straight, but God, does it hurt. He pinches your nipple, no gentler, but at least doesn’t keep it for so long. He does the same on the other side, and you swear you’ll have them all purple tomorrow, and it lasted less than a minute. They hurt so much.

As soon as He loses interest in your breasts, you wrap your arms around your chest, trying to soothe it. His hand moves to your chin instead, forcing it up.

“Open” is all He says and you obey. “Wider.” You try to, but it’s not enough. Pushing fingers into your mouth, He pushes your jaws even further, to the point it hurts and you feel like it will soon break. But you don’t object. He pulls on your tongue – it’s hard not to pull back. You gag as He pushes His fingers deep, but – thank God – takes them out before you can repeat your act from earlier.

You pant when He finally retreats and the contact breaks.

“When was the last time you came?” He asks as soon as He decides you’re in the state to provide an answer.

“T… three weeks ago, sir” you mumble.

“That’s not too long ago, is it?”

“Not too long…” You whimper slightly, confirming.

He doesn’t really hold you accountable of this on usual – only when He, for some reason, feels like making you a bit more desperate, a bit more pathetic. But it’s not something that happens often. On most days, He doesn’t even care for your presence, so even if He – or anyone else He approved of – decided, on rare occasions, to use your pussy for a change, He couldn’t care less if you came, as long as you didn’t make His own experience any worse.

But then sometimes, just sometimes, He wanted to see you struggle.

“What’s the longest you went for?”

“A-a month, sir…”

“Well then, what about we make it two?”

You gulp.

“If you wish so, sir…”

“But that’s starting from tomorrow. You will come today.”

Your eyes snap up at Him as He turns around and sits back on His bed, crossing His legs leisurely. You don’t dare to move from your spot – a good choice.

“Kneel down and touch yourself. Leave the robe on, but don’t cover yourself.”

He watches you with a small smirk as you get down. Your pussy is already exposed; you spread your legs as far as you can and lean slightly forward on one hand, the other finding the most aching spots.

Your Owner watches as you start to rub yourself – and you’re shook about how little it takes for you to find yourself on edge.

“Stop.”

You press your lips together, holding back a whine that tries to push through your lips. It hurts, you wish you could just make yourself come, you’re so needy, so starved for it, it’s been so long…

“Give me your robe.”

You don’t ask. You take the fabric off, fold it neatly and stand up, head low, reaching out with your both hands. The man takes it without care, throwing it onto the floor, far from you.

“Go to your room now.”

“Yes, sir…”

You glance briefly at the clock on the wall – it’s almost nine. And you only wonder, how many people will you pass by, going through the cold corridors, with your pussy leaking and your breasts slowly turning blue.

11:49 P.M.

You’re asleep when the door opens again – the sound waking you up slowly, your sleepy movements incoherent as you try to turn the light on. You stop though, as, in the darkness slowly dissolving in front of your eyes, you recognize the silhouette that just welcomed you. Your hazy mind doesn’t proceed it fully though, yet, and you don’t know, what would be the right way to react – stand up? Kneel down? Out of no cue, you stay where you are, watching with wide eyes as the man approaches your bed and sits on the mattress.

His hand finds the edge of your sheets and pulls them away from your naked frame – you often slept naked, and now that he rid you off your usual evening attire, it feels like an even righter thing to do.

“S… sir…?”

“Don’t move. Don’t talk.”

You stay in your place, your eyes following every movement, and when his hand cups your sex, your breath hitches and you struggle to stay still – of course you struggle; you want to grind down, to prove how needy you are, like a bitch in heat.

But he said, don’t move. So you don’t.

He spreads your legs a bit and teases you, stretching your entrance a little just for the sake of his entertainment, like most of the things he does to you, anyway. But then he suddenly stops and starts to gently rub your clit. You press your lips together. It feels so good, so hot, you wish you could moan, scream for him.

But he said, don’t talk. So you don’t.

His other hand is soon on your hair and he pulls you up, not too gently, but not unnecessarily roughly either. His face is so close, his eyes boring into yours. What did you ever do, to deserve a proximity like this? To deserve that much attention? To deserve his hand pleasing you so well, so good?

Nothing, is the answer. You’re not worthy of it, yet he gives it to you: how generous of him, isn’t it? To be touching the filthy animal you are. He’s so good. He feels so good, and you struggle even more, trying to keep yourself together and hold back for the sake of feeling it just a little longer.

“You may come, if you want.”

“Sh… should I?”

He smirks.

“Do you want to?”

You hesitate, a second too long.

His hand disappears and you’re left panting, writhing, squeezing your legs together for friction, but feeling as though nothing can satiate you as well as his fingers did, and you finally let out a cry. How vulnerable.

When you come back to your senses, you feel his eyes on you and quickly return the gaze – you don’t want him to think you’re ignoring him, never. You may have lost your mind for a few moments, but it’s back there – figuratively, for you’re just a dumb whore, there’s no much mind left in you.

“I told you, that you will come today, but you didn’t listen.” You quickly glance at the clock – it’s 00:02. Oh, God. Oh, no. “And now that your birthday is over, I don’t need to hold back, do I?”

You want to say that he shouldn’t hold back regardless of the day, but you soon realize it probably wouldn’t be in your best favor.

And that he doesn’t really need your approval.

Please, reblog if you enjoyed!

#chanyeol smut #chanyeol x reader #chanyeol imagine #dom chanyeol #park chanyeol #exo chanyeol #exo smut #exo imagine #exo x reader #zhang yixing #vg: chanyeol #vg: fanfiction #vg: exo

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chocolatemin · 4 years ago

Text

word count: 6.15k

contains: college!au, fantasy, fluff, angst, cursing, mutual pining, gn!reader, slightly suggestive remarks

synopsis: Does it really require pixie dust and magic to feel sparks, happiness, freedom, and comfort all at once?

ana’s note: ahhhh this is the first full-length fic i’ve ever written for jisung and i hope i did well for this one ;-; and this was inspired by the very obvious, just by looking at the title, taylor’s sparks fly and also peter pan. i hope you enjoy reading <33

Fairies, of course, it is no secret that fairies do exist and sometimes disguise themselves as humans to go out and mix themselves on night festivals during spring, even the one celebrated in your university during mid-spring. You cannot blame them though, the mid-spring festival was always the most anticipated by the people, everyone is welcome too but the biggest difference is that everybody is wearing a costume which makes things more enjoyable. You could dress up as a god or a mythical creature or even a fairy, but of course, no one dares to dress up as a god.

The first time you encountered such fairy was at 3 AM. You shouldn’t be awake at that particular time of the day, people say that it’s either you encounter a good one or a bad one. The elders say that meeting one could either bring you good fortune or bad luck, and in the worst case scenario, make your life miserable. Why? Because it will never leave you alone. In your defense, you were finishing a project due at 9 AM that day and you were barely thriving on the amount of workload. Just like the saying, ever since that day, the fairy hasn’t left your side. So far, the fairy hasn’t made your life miserable but rather made your day more tolerable, but as of now, you want to take that back.

“Minho, can you please stop whining like a kid? I have this due tomorrow at eight!” You sent a glare to the fairy sprawled out on your bed and he just rolled his eyes at you.

“Let’s go out please!” He raises his voice to a pitch similar to the annoying girls in your class whenever they talk to their crushes.

“You’re so annoying!” You give your temples a light massage and sigh deeply, “God, when the elders say meeting a fairy could bring bad luck, I didn’t know it was this bad.”

“That’s rude!” Minho suddenly transported himself beside you to slap your arm jokingly.

“I swear if you don’t shut up, I won’t take you to Changbin’s.” You shove your phone to his chest before pushing him away, “Go entertain yourself and remind me when it’s 9:30.”

“Not the texts and gallery!” You added.

You push the door open causing the bell to chime and garner the attention of the boy behind the counter as Minho trailed behind you. You flash the barista a soft smile before dragging Minho by the sleeve of his shirt.

“Hey,” The man in front of you returns the smile, “What would you like to order?”

Scanning the menu, you picked the first thing you saw, “Caramel Frappuccino, extra shot please,” nudging the boy beside you as the barista punched in your order, “What’s yours?”

“I’ll have the same.” Minho tenses beside you, you forgot that he always gets the same drink.

Before you could hand in the cash, the barista beat you to it, “Don’t worry, it’s on the house tonight.”

“Chan, I insist.” You shake your head, handing him the money.

“It’s because your bags look like they could beat me anytime.” Chan chuckles as he pushes back your hand and you let out a small huff.

“He’s not lying though,” Minho snorts beside you causing Chan to give him a fist bomb. As if they really knew each other.

“Yeah, sure.” You roll your eyes playfully, “Thanks grandpa, you’re the best.”

Chan shakes his head as you ushered Minho to a seat as you wait for your orders.

“So, tell me, how did you meet Chan?” Minho places his hands on his pockets and leans on his seat.

“Oh, are you interested in him?” You looked up from your phone.

“Yeah, maybe we could join forces and annoy you non-stop.” Minho smiles at you and you threw a napkin at him.

“Idiot,” You chuckle at his unexpected answer, “Well, he was a senior of mine in the university but we became close because Jisung’s from the same department, he introduced Chan and also Changbin, the owner of this café.”

“Ah yes, the crush.” Minho smirks upon the mention of Jisung’s name.

“Oh my god, stop,” sighing in annoyance, “Don’t.”

Before Minho could tease you more, you heard Chan yelling your names. This isn’t the first time you took Minho at Changbin’s so Chan didn’t have anymore the need to ask the name of your company tonight. The two of you headed over to the counter and grabbed your drinks, thanking the cute barista and slid an extra tip on the jar before leaving the café.

Just moments after you left the café, the bells chimed once more, indicating the entrance of another customer.

“Hey, Sung.” The older smiles, “What will you have for tonight?”

“The usual.” Jisung hands him the money and leaves a large tip upon receiving his change.

“Y/N just left,” He could see the teasing face of the older despite having his back turned from him as Chan made his order.

“And?” Jisung replies with a lazy voice contrary to his actions. His heart skipped a beat hearing your name.

“They’re with another guy.” Chan raises his brows and Jisung just coughed, “Someone’s jealous.” Jisung ignored Chan’s remark, earning a laugh from the older. “Aw, come on, they only like you,” Chan spoke as he handed him his order.

“As if they would.” Jisung frowns.

“Trust me. They only have their eyes on you.” Chan gives him a reassuring smile.

“Well, that’s creepy but that’s better than having their eyes on another guy.” Jisung jokes to lighten up the mood, taking a sip from his drink, “See you later.”

Chan nods and he watches the younger head to the exit, a huge grin etched on his face.

“They’re idiots.”

“Do you guys wanna hang out this weekend?” Felix glances up from his food and turns to look at you and Jisung.

“Sure, I’m free on Saturday,” You take another bite of your lunch, “Movie?”

“I can’t,” both eyes turn to Jisung, “I have to meet my old friend in middle school, she’s transferring to our university next semester.”

“Oh, we’re supposed to look for our costumes,” Felix nods, trying to hide the disappointment in his voice, “I guess it’ll be only me and Y/N.”

“I’ll try to catch up with you,” Jisung grabbed his coffee and abruptly stood up from his seat beside you, “I should get going now, my class is in twenty.”

“See you later.” You wave at Jisung and he flashes you the smile that never fails to send the sparks bursting inside your chest before leaving you two in an awkward atmosphere.

“I can’t believe he chose his friend over us!” Felix dramatically places his hand over his chest, pretending to wipe his invisible tears.

“Spring break is within the next two weeks, Lix. It must be important.” You gave the boy across you a pat on his hair.

“But they could’ve scheduled it the other day! He knows that it is our costume-finding day!” Felix pouts, poking his food aggressively. You know that every second Saturday of February is special for you three since you became best of friends in high school and this is the first time Jisung declined.

“Don’t be sad, it’ll still be fun.” You smile at him assuringly.

After your last class, you received a text from Jisung saying your and Felix shouldn’t wait for him since he has to meet his friend. On your walk to the dorms, Felix couldn’t stop complaining on how Jisung chooses his other friend over you two. You feel sad but you understand that Jisung’s time and space does not revolve only within your friendship, what makes you upset is that it’s a girl, thoughts like “What if it is one of his past crushes?” lingered in your mind. Since finals are coming up, you decided to distract yourself from the heavy feeling in your chest by diverting your attention to studying and you are glad that you successfully got rid of the thoughts for a while. However, it’s been hours and you still kept on turning sides and shifting positions on your bed trying to fall asleep yet the feeling inside your chest doesn’t seem to go away.

“Minho, are you there?” Your voice cracked, making you cringe but there is no response. You tried calling a few times and Minho in his pyjamas with a grumpy look appeared beside your bed.

“What do you want?” He groans.

“Can’t sleep, do you have any magic that can make me fall asleep?” You drag the blanket up to your chin.

“Are you still upset?” Minho’s voice softens but you do not answer his question, making him sigh as he sits at the edge of your bed, “I have something cooler to show you, come on,” Minho extends his hand over you.

“Huh?” You ask, staring at his hand.

“Get up, I’ll show you something.” Minho drags you out of bed despite your protests. Snapping his fingers, you suddenly got transported to what seemed like Minho’s room. You know it is his because it smells just like him—cat, he does own three cats so it isn’t new to you. His room felt cozy yet mystical, the things in his room are made of wood, leaves, vines and flowers and the room erupted with fresh leaves and scent of lilacs, and let us not forget, cats.

“Why am I in your room?” You turn to Minho who is taking a small chest from his nightstand.

“Close your eyes,” you obey as he said and you feel something powder-like stick on your skin, “Don’t open your eyes yet,” you feel Minho’s fingers brush against your forehead, then your brows, your eyelashes, your nose, cheeks, lips and lastly, your chin; his fingers felt like cotton against your skin– gentle and light.

The thoughts were cut off by his voice, “You may open your eyes now.”

“Wow, what is this?” You inspect the shining dust on your skin and clothes.

“That’s pixie dust.” Minho confidently answered.

“Wait, it’s real?” Your eyes went wide from the excitement.

“Duh. Did you really think those were all made-up?” He scoffs at the bewildered look in your face.

“Where are we heading to?” You jump excitedly, making him laugh at your child-like behavior.

“It’s a secret.” With that, Minho snapped his fingers once more and you were transported outside his house, specifically on his roof, “Are you ready to soar the night?”

“Hell yeah!” You throw your fist in the air, laughing.

“Take a deep breath, think and believe that you can fly.” You do as he says, mumbling ‘I can fly’ to yourself repeatedly. “Now, take a step forward.”

“You could’ve just told me to jump off your roof.” You shake your head and jump off his roof, you feel your stomach drop as you fall but you are quick to remember that you have to think and believe that you can fly, feeling yourself stop mid-air and float.

“Cheesecakes, I did it!” You grin as you fly back up, stopping in front of Minho.

“Wow, didn’t think you were the hardcore type.” Minho chuckles as he spreads his pretty wings that sparkled against the moonlight and fly above you, “Come on! We’ve got an exciting adventure to do!”

You flew here and there, Minho holding your hand in the first few minutes until you got used to flying. His wings fluttered against the gentle night breeze and you suddenly had the urge of wanting to touch his wings, curious on how it would feel against your fingertips. You spent the time flying around the Land of Fae, Minho being your tour guide for the night. He felt happy seeing your eyes light up as he showed you the cool places in his hometown, compared to your dead-looking eyes while you tried to distract yourself from the pain by studying and he promised to bring you again next time for another adventure. By the time you transported back to your place, it was already three am, so you immediately dive on your bed, face first and thank Minho before dozing off, the pain definitely forgotten.

“Y/N! You look like you didn’t get much sleep, what happened?” Felix grabs the sides of shoulders, leaning in to take a closer look at the dark circles under your eyes.

“It’s just, I didn’t see the time ‘cause I was reviewing my notes on Hegel’s.” You lie, you cannot tell him you just flew all night.

“Morning,” You feel an arm wrap around your shoulder, making your heart skip a beat. You knew whose arm belonged to, even if you didn’t hear his voice.

“Good morning, Sungie.” You turn to look at him but you are surprised that he was closer than you expected, you smile at him before turning your head away from his face, the tip of your ears getting red.

“What are you two discussing without me?” Jisung feigned a frown.

“You should tell Y/N not to stay up too late. Look at those eyes! It’s terrible!” Felix points at your face.

“Hey, it’s not that bad, you still look pretty though.”Jisung brushes a stray hair on your forehead making you flustered while Felix looks at you with an amused reaction.

“Oh, Y/N, don’t let that get in your head.” Felix laughs.

“You’re insufferable.” You push Felix before turning to Jisung, blowing a kiss to his direction, “Thanks, babe.”

Jisung feels like he could ascend anytime from the name you just called him, even if you two exchange flirty remarks on a daily basis, he’s getting used to it to the point that he doesn’t even know if it is still all jokes or means something else.

“I’m getting tired of you two! Ugh!” Felix walks away causing you two to erupt in fits of giggles before catching up to him.

The day was almost great, until Jisung had to leave first again to meet his friend, leaving you and Felix alone for the second time.

“Aww, Lix, come on, I’m here,” you playfully poke his side, “I bet I’m funnier than Jisung.”

“Oh my god, Y/N! You are never funny!” Felix pushes you away from him and starts walking faster, leaving you behind.

“Don’t you want to hear any of my jokes?” You elbow him, “What does the cell say whenever it takes a picture?”

“What?” The tone of Felix’s voice is flat, obviously unamused at your attempt.

“Cellfie!” You are literally howling at your pun, clutching your hand over your stomach and failing to notice the annoyed look on your best friend’s pretty face.

“That’s so bad, Y/N!” Felix runs away while you are dying of laughter from your terrible joke.

Weekdays had passed and the three of you became busier than ever with all the finals coming up, you could barely hang out with Jisung during lunch and vacant periods, but since you and Felix are taking the same course, you didn’t feel lonely with his presence, the only day you are looking forward to is Saturday, which is today.

You agreed to meet up with Felix at the mall without mentioning that you brought another company with you today, so you weren’t all surprised to see Felix with a panicked face as soon as he sees you.

“Hey, Felix, I hope you don’t mind bringing my friend with us today,” You smile looking over to the man beside you, “Minho, this is Felix, my best friend.”

Minho extends his hand in front of Felix for a handshake which he accepts despite his flustered state, “Felix, this is Minho, my fair– friend, yeah, friend.” You awkwardly chuckle, nodding to him.

Thankfully, Felix didn’t raise any suspicions on the two of you but he asked how you became friends, because as far as Felix knows, you really didn’t have any friends aside from him and Jisung, you barely even talk to your classmates. You decided to eat first before proceeding to your real agenda and surprisingly, it was Minho’s treat– which never happens when it’s only the two of you. What a two-faced fairy.

“Y/N, the truth is, I don’t have any ideas for our costume,” Felix scratches his nape, “All I know is we have to match.”

You are about to answer but Minho beat you to it, “Why don’t you all dress up as fairies?” He says with a proud look at his face, “You can even customize and add details if you’d like.”

“Impeccable.” You mocked, you can see Minho’s hidden intention.

“That’s perfect! We’ll dress up as fairies then!” Felix chirps, your eyes wide from the declaration.

“Huh?”

“Fairies are cool, Y/N.” Felix places a hand on your shoulder. What a great ego-boost to Minho.

You glance at Minho quickly and you see the tiny smirk planted across his lips, “They are not, besides, how do you know? You haven’t met one.”

“Neither do you,” Felix retorts before dragging you to the costume store, “Now, shut up, we’re gonna be the best fairy friends ever!”

To be honest, you did not expect searching for your outfits will still be fun without Jisung. Speaking of Jisung, he sure doesn’t know what costume you three are going to wear so you decided to send him a text.

You: hey, ji. we’re dressing up as fairies, should we choose for you?

Sliding the phone back to your pocket, you went over to the accessories and decorations to pick something to add on your costume that will definitely make you look more like a fairy. Your eyes dart toward a green headdress decorated with crystals and flowers.

“Wow, this is really pretty.” You are interrupted by the vibration from your pocket and you quickly fish out your phone to see a reply from Jisung that made your lips curve into a smile.

Quokka: can you pick my costume for me? i don’t trust felix geez

You: should you really trust me?

Quokka: baby, your choices are better

You: well then, i shall not hear any complains when you see it

Quokka: thanks, love. don’t have too much fun without me ;(

You feel your heart burst just from the way he addressed you but it was quickly replaced by a heavy feeling upon remembering that he’s with his friend right now. Sighing heavily, you grab the headdress before walking, tapping the shoulder of your best friend from behind.

“I’m picking Jisung’s clothes.” Felix turns to you with his brows furrowed.

“I already picked his!” He shows you a forest green tunic paired with grey braies, you admit Felix absolutely chose a great outfit this time.

“You picked a decent one for the first time!” You happily hum, “All that’s left is his accessories.”

The day wouldn’t be complete without games, so the three of you went all out on arcade. At first, Minho didn’t know how the buttons and joysticks worked and you had to teach him first before you three went into competitive mode. Felix was almost skeptical about Minho and it isn’t a surprise for him to come up with a believable lie, you were glad that Felix and Minho got along. You even saw them teaming up just to piss you off coming. By the time you parted ways with Felix, the sun was already setting and the skies were tinted with orange and pink hues.

Feeling lonely albeit the presence of your mystical fairy beside you as you typed your essays, you decided to text your friends.

You: do u guys wanna come over to study?

Sunshine: u r heaven sent y/n

Quokka: i’m really busy tonight

You: does that mean u cant join us?

Quokka: yeah…

Sunshine: don’t worry sweet cupcake y/n, i’ll bring over snacks

You: yuck, i’m not sweet and i’m not a cupcake

Sunshine: but u like it when sungie calls you pet names

You: just get ur ass here dumbass

Quokka: ofc, thats MY y/n ;)

Sunshine: i want to puke

You shake your head while smiling to yourself, despite Jisung being the busiest among the three of you, he never fails to lighten up the mood, and your overreacting friend, Felix, that is always there for you, you are really grateful for these two dorks.

You hear a loud knock and a yelling causing your eyes to dart over to the door. You immediately stood up from your seat, nearly dropping your laptop, and grabbed Minho’s arm, who is lying on the couch lazily beside you, “You have to hide!”

“Why? Can’t you just tell him that I came over?” Minho shakes your hand off his arm.

Deciding that you will not make up anymore lies to your best friend, you snake your arm and carry him with his back facing you, “Hide or you get out!”

“Y/N?” You turn your head to the door with shock and horror painted on your face, standing on your doorstep is Felix with a box of pizza and ice cream carrying on his hands, “Were you and Minho sleeping together?!”

You let go of Minho causing him to fall, butt first on the floor and earn a groan from the fairy.

“No, it’s not what you think!” You rush over to Felix but he takes a step back.

“What is this then?” Felix raised his brows.

“Y/N, just tell him the truth.” Minho says as he stands up from the floor, massaging the part where it hurts.

“What truth?” Felix narrows his eyes as he glances over you then Minho.

“You see, uh, how do I say this,” sighing, “Minho is my–”

“Your what?”

“Let me finish, brat,” you glare at him, “Minho is a fairy.”

“The fuck are you saying, Y/N?” Felix walks past you, placing the pizza on the table and putting the ice cream in the freezer.

“I’m not lying!” You argue as you close the door.

“He does not have wings!” Felix raises his hand in frustration.

“Of course, we’re not in the Land of Fae!”

“Quiet down! You don’t want them to know you have a fairy in your room, do you?” Minho shushed the both of you.

“Sorry,” you glare at your best friend, “Believe me.”

“You guys are making this up, right?” Felix’s eyes darted at the two of you, “Tell me you’re joking.”

“We’re not,” Minho answers for you, “Do you want to see me fly?”

“Sure, why not.” Felix jokes but as soon as he sees Minho floating with his legs crossed, his mouth fell agape, “You aren’t fucking kidding?!”

You slap his shoulder as a reminder to tone down his voice.

“I think I’m going to faint-” Felix places a hand over his forehead before dramatically falling down on your couch–on the top of your laptop. Wait, what?

Out of instinct, you pushed Felix before his body could crush your laptop, so he fell on the floor face first instead, “What the hell, Felix! You almost broke my laptop!” You glare at him.

“Do you really have to push me though?” Felix sits up as he rubs his forehead.

“Whatever,” you roll your eyes, “Are we gonna study or…?”

“Yeah, right, sweet cupcake Y/N.”

Monday. You loathed Mondays, take note on the emphasis. It was just the second period but you are already tired. You are about to open your locker when you hear footsteps coming towards you.

“Good morning, Felix. What do you want?” You lazily put your textbooks inside your locker before closing it shut, “By the way, did you see Jisung?”

“Wow, Y/N, I’m here yet you’re looking for another guy.” Felix scoffs.

“Stupid,” you shake your head lightly, “I just haven’t seen him this morning.”

“He didn’t tell you?” The question made turn your head to face him rather abrupt, your brow raised and Felix cannot help to notice how badly you are inlove with Jisung, “Nothing, I don’t know either, he didn’t even respond to my text.”

“Ugh, Felix, you’re so annoying!” Felix just laughs at your irritated reaction.

The walk towards the university cafe is too quiet and you didn’t mind, you wish Jisung could join you for lunch but it seems like he’s really busy and has no time for you, reasonable enough since he probably has lots of work to finish before the due date and it’s already the finals next week, his assessments are different than yours and Felix’s, having your majors in Philosophy. Majoring in Music Production sure is tough and that is one of the reasons why you admired Jisung, aside from his personality. He is hardworking and dedicated, you could see him just goofing around but his grades are always above the average. He tends to joke a lot but when he starts talking about his passion, you could see his determination in his eyes.

Your thoughts are cut off by Felix, sitting across you, “I think you should ask Minho to come with us more often.”

“Who’s Minho?” Jisung is standing beside your table, panting heavily as if he ran all the way here just to see you two.

“Y/N’s friend. He went with us on our shopping.” Felix hums.

You hand Jisung his costume inside the paper bag, your fingers brushing against his slender ones, causing you to stutter on your reply, “Y-yeah.”

“Too bad you didn’t meet him, he’s hilarious! Little did I know, our Y/N has a gorgeous friend.” Felix winks at you but Jisung stood unfazed. To you, Jisung is more gorgeous than Minho and you don’t really care about Felix’s stupid teasing.

“Whatever, I won’t be coming with you guys later, I’ll have to see Wendy.” With that, Jisung left you dumbfounded.

“He just came to get his costume?” Felix coughs in disbelief and you just nod.

Jisung can’t help the jealousy that’s why he left just like that, his insecurities are slowly eating him up again, leaving no parts behind. It would be impossible for you not to have another guy friend, you are attractive as hell and fun to be with, and Jisung thinks you’re out of his league. He just blurted those words as an excuse for him to leave early but he realized that if he leaves you and Felix alone again, you might actually invite Minho with you which isn’t good for the jealousy that is eating him inside.

“Oh, Jisung, I thought you’re with Wendy.” You stop on your tracks upon seeing Jisung leaning against the railings outside your classroom, probably waiting for the dismissal of your last period. His back facing the sky and the golden streaks of light casting from behind made him look strikingly unreal, with his hair parted and slicked back on the right, is absolutely taking your breath away. He looks up to meet your eyes and you feel the rapid thumping inside your chest intensify. Jisung is going to be the death of you.

“I told her I have important matters to do.” Jisung walks up to you, his bangs swaying along with his movements. You thought the slowing of time when your crush walks up to you only happens only in dramas, but you were wrong. You realize that they just dramatized it because in real life, time just passes rather quickly without you noticing it since your attention is completely taken by your loved one.

“S-sure.” You mentally slap yourself for making yourself look like a fool in front of Jisung.

“Wanna have dinner together?” He slings an arm around your shoulder while his other hand clutched around the strap of his bag. You almost forgot that Felix is still with you.

“Of course! We barely had time together the past week.” Felix walks beside Jisung.

“I won’t pass,” you flash him a shy smile, “I missed your loud voice.”

“I don’t know whether to take that as a compliment or what.” Jisung snickers while Felix made gagging sounds.

You are surprised to see a familiar brown hair at the entrance of the university.

“Hey, Y/N. Isn’t that Minho?” Jisung feels his enthusiasm drop upon hearing the fairy’s name.

“Y/N!” Minho jogs over, stopping just in front of you, “Felix!”

“You must be Jisung,” Minho extends his hand for a handshake which Jisung unwillingly took, “Y/N never shuts up about you.”

You sucked in your bottom lip in annoyance, throwing Minho a death stare, “Why are you here?”

“I was heading home but I figured I could say hi.” Minho feigns a smile, he knows you knew his real intentions.

“You know their schedule?” Jisung finally breaks his silence.

“Not really, it just so happened that my timing is right.” Minho sends you a knowing look.

“Ah, is that so?” Jisung nods, “By the way, we still have to go somewhere else. See you later, man.” Jisung drags you and Felix away from the scene and you are confused by his sudden behavior.

“Wow, Jisung, didn’t know you’re that territorial.” Felix mused, surely liking the situation.

“I just didn’t like him,” Jisung turns to you and shrugs, “There’s just something I feel from his presence, y’know?”

“Ah, yes, jealousy,” Felix speaks in a mocking tone, “That’s something hard to ignore, y’know?”

“Someone wants to sleep outside tonight.” Jisung smirks, making Felix take back his words.

You are disappointed with the short amount of time you spent with Jisung, the day after you ate together, Jisung became busier, if that’s still possible, he rarely responds to your messages and if he did, it is short. His ‘meeting’ with Wendy became more frequent and you tried your best not to think of it and let jealousy consume the best of you. Despite the exams coming up, you found yourself flying around on your nightly trips with none other than Minho–but that is after you finish studying; it became some sort of reward to you. You did forget Jisung and Wendy during your adventures but the longing slowly became terribly agonizing. Even with the use of pixie dust and magic, your heart still feels empty at the end of the day.

It is the last day of finals and spring break is just over the corner yet you feel numb and drained already.

“I’m going to die,” a sigh escapes past your lips, “I want to sleep for a whole day.”

“Aww, Y/N, you can rest all you want but we have to take the remaining subjects.” Felix pats your hair gently.

“Thanks, Lixie, I know you’d do well!” You smile at him before taking your phone out of your pocket.

You: hey, love, good luck on your final assessments. <3

Quokka: thanks, y/n. good luck to you too, i know you studied well /(￣3￣ )/

Jisung’s short encouragement was enough for you to go through all your remaining tests and you were satisfied with your answers too. Just like you said on the last day of finals, you really did spend the succeeding day sleeping. You woke up the next day to see your notifications blown up from Felix and Jisung’s texts. It took you almost thirty minutes to read the entirety of the messages and reply to it.

You became all giddy and impatient with the fact that you’d be attending the festival next next week. You were excited, nonetheless you still spent the first week of spring break either by yourself or with Minho’s company. You tidied up your dorm since you basically live there even during the short breaks from school. You didn’t have a house to come home every spring break because your parents are working abroad and all busy with their work, plus they don’t have spring breaks at work, so it’s you travelling to another country every December just to be with them.

The day you’ve been waiting for has finally arrived and your heart has been pounding the moment you wake up.

“Where are you going?” You ask Minho who is heading for the door.

“Felix asked me for some help.” You nod at him and go back to making final adjustments on your costume. Over the few weeks, Minho became disgustingly close to Felix to the point where Minho knew everything about him too but that’s because Felix promised not to tell anyone your friend’s not-so-little secret and Minho trusted your ball-of-a-sunshine friend. What you didn’t expect is for Minho to become friends with Jisung, looking back on the way Jisung acted upon meeting Minho for the first time, it seemed impossible for him to trust your friend. You spent the remaining time watching cute cat videos and reading theories in Philosophy that made you curse a lot and almost regret taking Philosophy as your major during your freshman year.

Taking one last spin in front of the mirror, you excitedly head to the university gate to meet Jisung and the others but little did you know, your friends had other plans. They decided that they’ve had enough of your pining on each other albeit all the teasing and flat-out hints.

“Jisung, where are they?” You try to brush off the rowdy butterflies in the pit of your stomach. The pair of tunic and braies gave Jisung an extreme makeover, he looks just like a real fairy, which also coincidentally matches with your olive green fairy costume–to put it short, you look like a couple.

“Didn’t Felix come over to your dorm?” Jisung shrugs, fiddling with the hem of his forest tunic, you can sense his nervousness.

“Minho told me Felix asked him to lend a hand,” Your eyes widen in realization, “They left us!”

“I shouldn’t have trusted those two!” Jisung mutters under his breath.

“What are we going to do now?” You bite your lip, analyzing your surroundings; a fair amount of people have gathered outside the university and the others have already entered the gates.

“Just forget them,” Jisung grabs your hand, “Let’s just enjoy the festival even with just the two of us!”

Jisung and you went from stall to stall, spending a huge amount of money and eating an unhealthy amount of sweets. The two of you are now sitting beside each other on one of the benches, feet sore yet contented. You can see the diversity in everyone’s costume and everybody is having a great time, smiles plastered across their faces as they celebrate with their friends and loved ones; making your heart feel warm at the rare sight.

“Y/N,” Jisung snaps you out of your trance, “The fireworks are starting soon.”

“Really?” You unlocked your phone, showing the cute wallpaper you had set, which is you three on your first mid-spring festival, “So much time had passed already?”

“Yeah, are you tired?” Jisung places his hand over yours and it felt natural to Jisung.

“I mean look,” you raised your phone to his vision, “Three years had passed and we’re all still friends.”

“Isn’t it a great thing?” Jisung squeezes your hand lightly.

“Yeah…” You couldn’t finish your sentence, you cannot just straight-up tell him ‘And we’re still not together, so it’s not great’, your insecurities just don’t agree with you.

“Did you have fun today? You’re too silent.” Jisung’s eyes searched for yours.

“Of course!” You exclaim, averting your gaze within seconds.

“Good to know,” Jisung smiles as he thumb rubs circles on your knuckles, “I wish this day won’t end though.”

“What do you mean?” It is your turn to face him.

“We have to go home sooner right?” You nod at his words, “Can I ask for something before we leave?”

Ignoring the loud palpitating inside your chest, “Go ahead.”

“May I kiss you?” Jisung is too jittery to mind his choice of words, anxiousness consuming him as he anticipates for your answer.

“Of course,” Feeling slightly confident, you even smiled at him. His eyes marveled from your eyes to your lips and you felt the tiny hairs on your nape stood up when Jisung placed his free hand to cup your jaw while the other held your hand. Just as his lips touched yours, you heard the sound of fireworks spreading across the night sky and everything felt perfect and magical. Seconds passed and you feel Jisung’s lips parting away from yours and you wished it didn’t have to end.

“Hey, Y/N, I know I don’t have supernatural powers nor wings to take you on nightly escapades,” Jisung gazes oh-so-lovingly at your teary ones.

“How did you know?” Your ears perk up, waiting for his response.

“Minho told me,” Jisung smiles, taking a deep breath, “but I can love you with all my heart.”

“I love you too, Jisung.”

You don’t need any pixie dust and magic to feel sparks, happiness, freedom, and comfort all at once; all you need is Jisung and his love.

#stray kids imagines #stray kids scenarios #stray kids x reader #stray kids one shot #han jisung #han #jisung #han scenarios #han imagines #jisung imagines #jisung x reader #felix scenarios #minho scenarios #lee know scenarios #baerry.writes #baerry.txt #ana.txt

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