#but god damn am i paranoid shes going to use that against me now
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cloudyeventss · 2 months ago
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I thought I try my hand at writing a little story about being 141's assistant. I'm not sure where I'm taking this or even if I should continue. Let me knoww but be sweet. This is literally my first attempt at writing anything
Warnings~ cussing, slightly anxious ? Idk
Y/n pov
He's staring right at me. Slouching slightly to his left, strands of blue dyed hair peeking out underneath his hat. He clearly hasn't been sleeping, I can see the dark circles under his eyes. I don't think I’ve seen him blink once. This is too much. Too fucking much I'm starting to fidget with the belt of my purse, shifting back n forth trying to ease my nerves. I'm overwhelmed and overestimated. This bus smells worse than a gas station bathroom, it doesn't help it’s hotter than the damn desert in here, my sweater is starting to itch and the constant sound of the buses bell going off is enough to make my head explode. GOD why did my car have to break down today? sweat is beading my forehead I feel nauseous. GOD DOES THIS MAN EVER BLINK?!? *ding* fuck finally my stop. I've never been more relieved in my life to leave somewhere... stepping outside I feel like I can breathe again not by much though, last night, laying in bed i got a call from my father's friend Laswell telling me to meet her at a Cafe not too far from my home. Usually, I wouldn't be so nervous to see her, being Laswell and my father worked together for the past 10 years. She’s been around quite a few times but this time She spoke about a potential job opportunity as an assistant overseas. I'm not even sure I heard her right, i was a bottle deep into Apothic red wine. Nothing special but drink enough it’ll knock you on your ass. I've been anxious ever since. After finishing my associates degree in mind and body psychology, I wasn't sure I wanted to continue with school. Maybe I just need a break, but I also need a job. I take one final deep breath to attempt to calm my nerves as I wipe my sweaty palms down my jeans. Okay now’s the time to be confident y/n don't freak out .....
There she is sitting with her back against the wall right in between both exits like always. I'd say she's paranoid but with the work she does it's more justifiable. Laswell stands to greet me "Y/n , it's great to see you!" She moves to sit, and I follow. " it's good to see you too Kate, it's been awhile" . Lunch goes by smoothly; it always was easy falling into conversation with her. A red headed waitress with long legs and black trim glasses drops us our check before walking off to tend to her other tables. My eyes follow her as she passes, she's one of those girls who are effortlessly beautiful. Laswell gains my attention again " so your father tells me you are looking for work"
" I am"
"I could use someone I trust"
"Tell me more"
.....
It'd been two weeks since I met with Laswell, and I accepted the job offer. She explained it mainly consist of filing paperwork and doing whatever task ask of me, running errands, and so on. Kate didn't really give me any details of who I'd work for, just that it was four men she trusted with her life and assured me I'd be in good hands. Today's the day I get on a plane and uproot my whole life. I spent every bit of yesterday taking care of last-minute arrangements. I sold my piece of shit Honda to some high school kid . I almost felt bad for taking his money, but I told him of its issues. In a way I'ma miss Johnny. I named my car after a porn star, Johnny Sins. Ha. It still makes me chuckle . My honda wasn't much, but it always got me where I needed to be hints the name. After taking care of my car I went to see my father. He graciously agreed to look after my apartment for me while I was gone. We spent the rest of the evening watching old westerns on TV and saying our goodbyes.
.....
It's only four hours into the flight, and I'm already regretting my decision. I've spent most of the time in the bathroom emptying my stomach while avoiding angry knocks on the door. The taste of bile in my mouth makes me a little less caring about the people outside. Deciding I can't spend the rest of the flight in the bathroom, I pick myself off the floor and do my best to rinse my mouth. Flying has never sat right with me. I like my feet on the ground instead of tempting God. Regardless, I have to tough it out, its not like I can get them to land now. I walk out the restroom, mumbling hushed, apologizes, and take my seat. Just six more hours.. you got this y/n.
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miki-13 · 2 years ago
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RWBY Volume 9 Episode 3: Rude, Red and Royal
“In which the rules of a game are broken.” Ooh, I like this.
- Fuck Roster Teeth.
- Okay but the bit with the girls still hurts. Ruby starts out the most solid in V1-3, becomes more see-through as V4-6, and then her V7-9 self is completed saturated in color, a complete inverse of Weiss+Blake+Yang. And unlike the still walking forms of past WBY, Ruby’s fades away completely and leaves her all alone.
- The pathways also look very much like the pathways made in Volume 8 to help the Mantelians and Atlesians evacuate. Especially the doors.
- The shadow people really make me think back to volume 1 but there are plenty of theories on who they are just by silhouettes. And Neo is absolutely the type to use clones of their loved ones/ authority figures to fuck with RWBYJ.
- I also saw another theory that Alyx was accompanied by the boy who fell from the sky and that he was an Ozcarnation who wrote his and Alyx’s story.
- Eyy John Mulany-vibes-Toy soldier got a drum.
- That looks more scarlet/ red-orange than crimson.
- Ruby’s voice is still so low… and she rolls her eyes at Yang. Poor babe. “We aren’t Alyx.” Exactly!
- BUTTERFLY! BUTTERFLY! LIKE THE BUTTERFLY FROM VOLUME 6 IT EVEN HAS HEARTS ON IT’S WINGS
- Presenting arms… that are also halberds and trumpets.
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Are we gonna get a “welcome to Dulac” message?
- Ohhh, he’s the red PRINCE. Gotcha. So this must mean the previous Red King is either retired or dead. Meaning that them going through the story at a later point is what’s going on.
- “The Red King wasn’t nearly as rude. Or small. Or loud.” We know Yang, but HEY
- “Well if it hadn’t been for YOUR kind, the king would still be here!” OWO???????
- Ruby is so done.
- Damn, this little shit is paranoid AF. He gives me Shinji Matou and Frieza vibes (don’t care that it’s Freeza, I’m spelling it Frieza)
- Weiss face-palm is a mood.
- “SILENCE!!!!!” OH SHIT RED PRINCE AND ICE QUEEN ARE ABOUT TO FACE OFF
- Bro, calm the fuck down. You’re even exhaling a snot bubble- oh it’s popped.
- “Did I used to be this unbearably pompous?” Yes you were XD
- How dare.
- PFFFFF
- “Green? Why? Is? It? GREEN?!” Fucking called it. (Also sighted this on a post but wasn’t too spoiled)
- OH GOD I WAS RIGHT BUT AT WHAT COST DO NOT FUCKING KICK FLOATING ARRAY YOU LITTLE SHITMONGER
- DO NOT BLOCK HER
- “How could you?” Oh baby QAQ
- Well, they’re losing their heads.
- OH GOD THEY REALLY CHOP OFF THEIR HEADS
- God poor Ruby is still trying so hard qmq
- “Beheading people does cheer me up.” My god, he got the worst qualities from the Queen of Hearts. Like Joffrey.
- EYYY TRAILER SHOT! 
Also, I wonder if this butterfly is the caterpillar that transformed from the first time around? Does that mean the caterpillar RWBY meets is a descendant or perhaps a younger different caterpillar?
- Right, let’s establish the stakes.
- I can see Ruby holding it in super fucking hard.
- Thank GOD he doesn’t take “small” as an insult. And he agrees… for now.
- “So… how do we play?” (cue laughter) Heyyy, knock it off!
- So every player is a pawn (and has the potential to be more than they are), you have to get the most to the other side… and you must dispose of whoever is on a space to claim it.
God, she really is metaphoring for Oz rn.
- Between the bloodthirsty red side ready for battle… against the white side, battered and demoralized… yep.
- “I’m missing three pieces.” “How perfect you brought along friends to play then.” FUCK
- “The most important thing is winning this game!” AAAAHHHHH
- “No one’s going to get hurt… right?” ”(smirks) As I am a gracious ruler, the white team may go first.” FFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF
- AH SHIT EVERYTHING’S GONE DARK THIS IS SO MUCH MORE NERVE-WRACKING THAN BEFORE
- Trailer shot qmq
- Oh that poor piece.
- AH SHIT THEY’RE GETTING TAKEN OUT FAST
- But also some giving up too quickly and tapping out is very familiar…
- EYYY AN ON-SCREEN VICTORY FOR WEISS
- Good little Little, keep waving the green leaf flags of victory!
- “Why do you want to go to the tree?” “We want to go home, and we believe the tree can get us there.” Well that’s- “Yang, you’re up!” Ooh, I like this bass!
- VERY NICE, YANG! AND I SEE BLAKE BLUSHING AT YOU ^^
- OOH-HOO-HOO THAT NOSE RUB >:D
- “(eye-twitch) Aaaand, how do you know this?” “… Well, it worked for someone we know.” Well- “Blake, your turn!” Ruby, please stop cutting me off.
- WELL DONE, BLAKE! AND YANG IS SO PROUD- OH SHE BLUSHED SO HARD I CAN’T 8D
- And now the pawns are all fired up and ready to fight! But the red prince is pissed now- whether because he’s losing or because he knows who they’re talking about or both, I’m unsure of yet.
- “THIS ISN’T HOW IT’S SUPPOSED TO GO! THIS ISN’T RIGHT! THIS ISN’T FAAAAAAIIIIIIIRRRRRRRR!”
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- “Wait… what type of creatures did you say you are again?” Ooohhh, here we goooo. “Well Blake is a faunus. Little is a mouse, I think.” “Sure!” (Ohhh?) “And the rest of us are human.” EYYYY THE CHESHIRE- I MEAN CURIOUS CAT
- Those gasps tho. Are we gonna see his face break? OH SHIT WE ARE “Human? HUMAN?! I KNEW IT! YOU MUST HAVE CHEATED!” AH SHIT WE ARE AFTER ALYX’S TIME!
- “ALL OF YOU! GET THEM! GET THEM!” SHIT HE’S COMMANDING ALL THE PIECES
- EYYY THERE’S BUMBLEBY’S MOVE AND THE TRAILER MUSIC AGAIN
- WEISS CHANNELING WINTER’S POWER OF GOD AND ANIME GETS HER MORE ON-SCREEN VICTORIES
- WE HAVE ENTERED BOP CITY! POPULATION: THESE FUCKEERS
- “Hey wait stop! You’re going to hurt them!” “It’s MY royal birthday and I can do WHATEVER I LIKE!” Oh that little shit is absolutely cheating!
- OH NO YANG IS DOG-PILED! BLAKE, SAVE YOUR WIFE!
- FUCK BLAKE’S OUT OF BULLETS THE GUNS ARE USELESS
- “Give up already!” “(inhales through teeth) … we. Won’t.” GO! “KICK THEIR WOODEN BUTTS!” SHE SHOULD HAVE SAID “ASSES” BUT THIS WORKS TOO!
- WE’RE KING OF THE CASTLE NOW HELL YES CALLBACK
- EYYY WE GOT SNOW ANGEL
- CUE THE SUN DRAGON IN ALL HER BLAZING SPLENDOR
- OH SHIT SHE’S GOT A CLAYMORE KNOW YOU BITCHES IS FUCKING DEAD
- HOLY FUCK THAT WAS THE COOLEST BOARD GAME EVER
- Aaaand he flipped the game board like the spoiled little bitch he is. 
- Oh thank god Ruby caught them.
- “If you don’t concede, I’ll have you beheaded!” JUST CONCEDE YOURSELF YOU LITTLE SHIT!
- YOU TELL HIM RUBY!
- Curious Cat!
- “You must be so distraught… unable to do the one thing you were put on this acre to do.” Oh damn.
- Ooh, so Curious Cat is like a therapy cat for RP?
- … is he crying pinballs????
- “Promises are like birds: they taste great, but they always escape.” I mean…
- Good on you for getting them out of there, CC!
- EY THE CHASE SCENE FROM THE TRAILER
- “I don’t know how that went so wrong...” It’s not your fault, babe. Your opponent is a little bitch.
- Ohh, so he was a guest… so why did he come by?
- Is RK dead?
- “Times change you know, and so do we when it’s our time to change. Don’t you?” Ooh boy.
- Eyy, they escaped! But, without Floating Array…
- “So we’re not in the stupid story! We’re in it’s stupid sequel!” Weiss echoing every person on shitty sequels ever.
- Trailer shot and CC questioning Ruby. But this isn’t a good time.
- “And what is your favorite dessert?” Are we gonna learn Ruby likes strawberries? 
- “You’re not nearly as interesting as the others I’ve met!” Others, plural? Neo, Jaune, Alyx, the boy who fell from the sky?
- Oh my god, it’s the vine with Bently biting the butterfly.
- Yang called her “Roobes/Rubes”!
- Poor Little.
- Wait, this background… it’s from Neo’s scene in the trailer!
- The Jabberwalker! Aaaand that is blood. Is it from him, or raining? “Fix.” Is he a construct???
- OH SHIT THAT WAS A PINK LIGHT TOUCHING DOWN! WAS THAT NEO?!
- JESUS CHRIST SHE REALLY DID JUST LAND, TAKE RUBY’S APPEARANCE AND START WREAKING HAVOC
- SHE MADE A FUCKIGN CLONE OF HERSELF ARE THOSE WHAT THE SHADOWS WERE AND DOES THAT MEAN SHE CAN CHANGE THEIR FORM
- “Stop. Cease. No. No!” Oh that poor thing…
Well holy fuck this happened.
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azzurra-astra · 2 years ago
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Mariner CH.6 ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️
All three of them were taking up resident in the living room, by Sal's suggestion; blankets and pillows, snacks and a movie on low.  The power was on for now, but with the way the island was being pounded, it was only a matter of time before they'd find themselves in the dark.  Grant was ahead with collecting candles, the lighter, flash lights, batteries, and various dry goods like chips to keep it convenient.
Sal had made herself a nest by the loveseat, a pillow for a seat, her charger plugged into the wall behind her and a blanket swallowing her for comfort.  Both of her brothers had their respective spots on the sofa, Diederik far less worrisome about it all while he worked on his laptop.
"Did you shut off everything upstairs?" Sal turned her head to Grant, seeing he was fidgeting a little.
"Yeah, I don't want $3k worth of equipment fried." He nodded, eyeing the nearest window as it rattled hard enough to draw the attention of the other two.
"The roof is gonna be fucked." Grant snorted.
"That's why they don't offer insurance in disaster zones," Diederik chimed in.  "I'll have to pay out of pocket for damages."
"Dude...." 
Sal griped.  "Be glad you're not right on the beach front."
"Trust me, I am." He sighed, scrolling something of mediocre interest.
Resting against the front of the loveseat, Sal's eyes moved to watch the rain.  It was blinding, a white wall that undulated and created an unnerving static din through the entire house.  One could almost feel the whole structure lean at the power of the gale-force winds, unable to see the houses across the street.  
She half-imagined that when the rain died down, there'd be no houses left.  Sighing, her body melted into a slump, crossing her ankles.
I hope he doesn't get washed up onto the beach again.... 
Her mouth twitched.
What if he did?  What if others did?  Her only ease was that throughout human history the event was virtually nonexistent and not to mention the only common acknowledgment was through media.  It hadn't happened so far or else it would've been news ten times over, but damn her for being paranoid....
"I hope he's okay..." She thought she was more kept to herself, that it was only a mumble, but when she felt the pairs of prodding eyes on her she bristled and locked gazes.
Grant wore a faint, feigning-innocence smile, Diederik’s was only pure curiosity, maybe a little mischievous.
"It was a stray lab I saw on my walk, too scared, he didn't want me close and ran off when I called." Her smile was sharp, humorless.
"Ah..." Her eldest brother quipped.
"You two are the dumbest fuckers to ever exist." She rolled her eyes. 
〰️〰️〰️
The power eventually took a dirt nap three hours into the storm, further ramping up the anxiety about the entire downstairs.  Clustered around the dining table by candle light, they dug spoons into the giant carton of softening mint chocolate chip ice cream, refusing to waste the near-half that remained.  They'd no doubt get sick due to the volume, but it would be worth it.
"Probably not a good idea to eat this much sweet shit in one sitting," Grant huffed, stuffing a large spoonful into his mouth anyway and cutting himself off.
"Nope, not at 2AM." Sal shook her head, having swallowed her previous bite and went in for another.
"Going to have a sugar crash and the shits in the morning." Diederik rubbed his face.  "Oh God, my face feels disgusting."
"Humidity." His brother quipped.
"With no way to heat water, you better hope they get this jump started later tomorrow, that's when this stuff is supposed to leave the area." Sal bunched as something struck the roof.
“Been living on this island for almost fifteen years and I’ve never invested in a generator.” Diederik mumbled, brows scrunching as if having been struck by the stupidity of his life’s choices.
〰️〰️〰️
Having charged their phones and the two laptops to use as respected power banks, media was their sole source of amusement in the dark, conversations centered around what to inspect after the storm subsided, and even the speculation of the utilities being out for quite some time.  
Sal folded her legs beneath her as she returned from the kitchen, warming soda can in hand with her phone as a source of light.  “Water’s still working, I refilled a few water bottles in case it goes out.“ 
“If that’s the case, I guess we gotta take advantage and get a bath tomorrow, just happy we got it covered before everything went to shit.” Grant exhaled.
“Hot water is out.” His brother grumbled, jotting down something on his phone.
“Maybe… caveman-style the water?” Sal shrugged, staring at the fireplace.
“What?” Grant snorted in amusement.
She smiled. “Why not?  Yeah I know, can’t use the fire pit out back, but the fireplace has a pot hook— I mean, the damn house is probably so old it was built when they were still burning people at the stake.”
“Oh, the one he’s been using for Halloween?” He shot a look to the older man.
“That’s actually not bad idea, cleaned the chimney last winter anyway.  Witch’s Brew style the water in a cauldron.  It’s still in the closet under the stairs, and,” Diederik got to his feet and grabbed a flashlight off the coffee table for a light source as he brushed past the sofa to head for the stairwell closet in the kitchen.  “Can still be used…”
“Wow, so we’re actually gonna do this… I mean, I won’t bitch.  I don’t wanna smell like chips.”
“Not Lays? I thought those were your favorite.” Sal chuckled, watching as Diederik proceeded to the downstairs bathroom with the cauldron in hand.  
She then stood herself, having illuminated her phone screen to illuminate her path to the cupboard full of mixing bowls.  “I’m gonna get the grill stand off the broiler too, so we can use the fire to make use of some sweet potatoes and steaks.” 
〰️〰️〰️
The rain drumming the window was the only noise besides the crackling of the fireplace, Sal was lulled by the heat as the house had grown damp and cool with the power being out for so many hours.  As Diederik dozed, both Grant and herself opted to cook the steak and potatoes as they were so famished and denied waiting to be clean to eat.  
Grant had started to slouch on his side, still highly focused on the little screen of his phone, likely texting a friend, Sal deduced.  She raised a fork to adjust the steak, the scent finally reaching to stir her awake.  Thin and quick to cook, worked in their favor.  
“Do we have brown sugar?” She leaned away from the front of the flame.
“Butter and brown sugar, yeah.  Say, uh, Sal..?” Grant inhaled steadily, his eyes breaking away to focus on her.
“Mm?” She flipped her brother’s cut. 
“Earlier today, Seymour asked me… to ask you—“
“Whatever it is, no.” She cut him off, her tone dismissive.
The man snorted, brow twitching.  “Sal, he isn’t gonna bite.  He just asked if you wanted to go with him to the cake shop for some sweets and tea….”
“The man does not, will not, shut the hell up.  He’s also got the appeal of old apple skin.”
“Hey!  That’s rude, what is your issue?” Grant ran his hand down his face as he sat to look at her pointedly.
“That he’s boring, dry, thin, and weak? That he has no concept of personal space?” She glanced back at him without fully turning her head, deadpan.  “Honesty isn’t rude, you just thrive off getting your ego’s cock sucked.” 
He raised his hand as he receded and nodded with a begrudging grimace.  “Okay, okay… I’ll tell him you said no.  I know he gets chatty, Sal, he gets excited is all but he’ll cool it when he settles down… he’s been enamored with you after y’all met a few weeks ago.  He’s been nervous about making a good impression, I know him better than you do— shit, five years.”
“I’m not interested, tell him that.”
He made a noise that was a hybrid of a groan and gurgle. “You have a heart made of black ice, Christ…”
“Thanks!  I specialize in not dealing with bullshit.” She offered a dry smile, having rolled the sweet potatoes.
“Saleein, finding someone isn’t bullshit—“
“Salem, you dipshit.  I said fucking no, how hard is it to get the message through that skull?  I mean it’s fucking hollow for starters!  In one ear and out the other?  Learn to mi—“
Both siblings fell quiet when the sofa creaked under Diederik’s weight, his shape illuminated by glow of candles.  The floorboards groaned and popped as he adjusted, looking drowsy but clearly at ease in the light of the fire.
“Sal, you two going on about that guy again?” He chuckled, unfurling his legs to hang off the sofa, exhaling.
“She just— I mean if nothing’s clicking, fine.  But you don’t have to be vicious about it.”
“I do, because it’s none of your goddamn business and it’s not your jobs, it’s not mom’s job either.  You two shitheads were recently single, but you didn’t see me prioritizing shoving you into a date with someone.” Sal rose to her feet, her body tense and subtly quivering from irritation.
“If this storm doesn’t blow both of us away, Benjamin and I are gonna hit up for a movie next week.” Diederik was thoroughly amused at Sal’s agitation, perceiving it as beginner’s anxiety.
“You want a party hat and confetti with a tweeter?” Sal said dryly at him as she broke away from the fireplace and fluidly stepped up onto the wooden floors to briskly go behind the sofa.
“You’re just nervous because you’re a social virgin— and a virgin, Sal!  It’s gonna be that way until you finally let someone take you to dinner and you both get lucky!” Grant called out while retaining a triumphant tone that she wasn’t keen on arguing further, but visibly flinched when the bathroom door slammed so loud it was as if someone fired a gun in the house.
“You keep starting that shit and one day we’re gonna wake up and she’s gonna be gone, she’s never gonna come home.” Diederik said flatly, brushing a loch back.
“I’m aware.  I just don’t want her to suffer being pressured by mom.”
“Obviously, yes she’s a lot more brutal and annoying, and she’s so basic and backwoods that she about shit when I came out….  But hey, I’m all set, Benji and I get along like milk and honey, I’m hoping it stays that way.” Diederik rocked to his feet with a grunt of discomfort, intent on minding the cooking food in her place.  “At least you and miss Murphy seem to get along so far.”
Grant rested his brow on his fingers.  “…. You think I—“
“That you’re acting too much like Deanna?  Yeah, no denying you’re her kid.  Nosy Nancy to a tee.  I want her happy with someone, too, but I’m not gonna piss her off till she cries.  You’re trying so hard to keep from dealing with her, you’re becoming her.”  Diederik turned, grabbing a plate off the top of the short stack set on the table behind him.
He began to pull a pair of steaks from the grill too, hissing at the heat.  “Ohh, good char…” 
〰️〰️〰️
Three days finally yielded reprieve, the peeks of sun through the rain granted no relief for any shut-in inhabitant, only signaled that it was time to awaken and hope the clouds hanging overhead would finally shove off to allow the grounds to dry.  The silence in the house normally didn’t disturb Sal, but she had a lingering, nagging anxiety, all too familiar regardless of how many storms they survived.  
The howling of the wind died down, but no bird songs filled the silence yet, and surprisingly she was the first to rise.  Sleepily, she elevated her upper half on a hand and shot each brother an inspecting glance, one passed out on the floor while the other remained curled on the sofa.  Quiet as she may, she slowly got to her feet, her gate still groggy during her ventured to the fridge, more out of habit.  No surprise to her, the light hadn’t turned on, but still, forced an exhale from her.  
The power wasn’t on yet.
Shutting the fridge and forgetting about any gurgles of nourishment, she made her return to the living room to awaken and alert her brothers that the storm passed, with both vowing to get water boiling, Diederik wanting a hot breakfast going for all after, and he elected to get clean first since he was the fastest.
Opening the front door, she was greeted with a  gust of muggy, moderate air, still a nip of chill amongst it.  The sky still held an eerie green hue with patchy spears of sunlight, but the peaceful and spotty drizzle was far more welcoming than ever.  Slipping into flip-flops, she folded her arms and made her way out into the short stoop, taking assessment of the foliage and other shredded plant matter littering the yards and streets or piled on unfortunate vehicles left to brave weather as the owners had no garages to hide them.
“Jesus, it looks like a blender hit us.” She quietly sighed, feeling her chest tighten with uncertainty.  
Several questions swirled in the back of her head, causing her heart to suddenly thud.  That damn creature… the aquatic beings like him that became victim to a storm or caught shit wouldn’t be as fortunate to cross paths with someone as considerate.  She couldn’t patrol the entire island, she couldn’t inspect every beach, but just how many ages have passed without incident…?  That’s why his kind was considered mythical, even still. As she entered the house, a drumming came from the downstairs bathroom, muffled pouring water repeatedly hit the bottom of the tub. Being the only noise, Sal was lulled by the heat built in the house since it’d grown damp and cool with the power being out for so long.
As Diederik bathed, both Grant and herself opted to use a pot for some oatmeal, as they were so famished and denied waiting to be clean to eat.  
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gedzilla · 6 years ago
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my coworker is being pretty fucked to me today and i was already on the edge of a Big Breakdown when i got here hours ago, she’s making it so much worse and i dont know why she’s doing it
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tumbling-darkling · 3 years ago
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The boy who lived and the professor that didn’t (for the most part)
AO3
During Harry's second year at Hogwarts, a strange and unexpected man starts teaching his Defence Against the Dark Arts class.
(A Danny Phantom X Harry Potter crossover)
Chapter 1
Harry took a seat in the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, glancing over to Ron who sat beside him and then scanning the classroom for their new DA professor. He already met the man in Diagon Alley, blonde and very much interested in only himself. Harry shivered as he remembered being pushed towards him as people took pictures of the famous wizard and the boy who lived.
At least it wasn’t worse than a head of the dark lord growing out of the back of the professor's neck.
Well- Harry did thumb through some of the textbooks before classes started. He absolutely agreed with Hermione who was very vocal about the books- they didn’t actually seem to teach anything. Just spoke about the ‘many adventures of Gilderoy Lockhart’.
Maybe this will just end up being an easy class.
The door slammed open 15 minutes past the start of class, startling the students as they swiveled their heads to look at the newcomer, expecting Gilderoy Lockhart.
Instead a tall man with a slim frame and hunched posture strode into the room. He had messy black hair pulled in a very horrible and tangled loose bun with the remaining dreads lazily dangling at the man's shoulders, his chin and cheeks covered in unshaven stubble. His robe was creased and torn, his hat loosely hanging from his hand and his sleeves pushed almost all the way up his arms. What really caught people’s attention was those eyes. Unnaturally clear and bright icy blue, so blue that even in the bright light they seemed to slightly glow.
He quickly pulled down his sleeves as he walked past the students towards the front of the room, grumbling slightly under his breath about something Harry couldn’t catch. He tossed the hat aside, muttering more loudly about how ‘wizard hats are so stupid and impractical I’m not wearing that garbage’ before he turned towards the class.
“My name is Fenton- er Professor Fenton I guess. Since I’ll be teaching you about…” he glanced down at the podium he stood in front of, crouching a little as if looking for something before straightening back up. “Defense… Against the… Dark… Arts,” he said slowly and not very confidently. Then he whispered again to himself but just loud enough for some students to pick up, “they see me fight one god damn ghost and suddenly I’m an expert on all dark magic entities? I think I’ll fight Dumbledore after this.” He straightened a little, eyes looking over the classes.
Harry did not like those eyes lingering on him for half a second longer than the others. He didn’t like this professor looking at him at all.
Something just didn’t feel right.
“Alright, any questions?”
A hand immediately went up, and Harry knew exactly who it belonged to.
“Uh- yes miss-?”
“Hermione Granger. Wasn’t our professor supposed to be Gilderoy Lockhart?”
“Yeah- that guy. He’s a phoney.”
The class went silent before someone yelled out, “WHAT?”
“Guy went around, found Wizards and Witches that did cool things, made them forget it then took all the credit. Tried to take my credit and I hit him a little too hard. Now I’m here taking his place. It’s all over the news, you know. You can read the exaggerated details in there. Anything else?”
The same hand went up.
Professor Fenton sighed, “yes?”
“Why were you 15 minutes late? Shouldn’t professors be on time? And why do you look like you crawled out of the forbidden forest.”
“I fought a ghost. Then got lost,” Fenton deadpanned.
The class went silent.
Fenton then turned around, “well if that’s all, let’s get started with something I know a lot about. What do you already know about Ghosts?”
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“You’re seriously more afraid of Professor Fenton than Professor Snape?” Hermione asked Ron. “He’s not even mean! Sure he’s grumpy but he doesn’t beat down every question I ask him! He even seems to be glad I’m asking questions! Unlike Professor Snape who just treats us like idiots for not knowing something.”
“Sure- he’s not mean or cruel but… he just freaks me out. Like how he just stares sometimes at empty walls! Or how the room temperature always drops the moment he seems to take a single step into the room! I can’t even hear his footsteps when he walks! He’s bloody freaky is what he is!”
“Well I for one am glad he’s our Professor! Imagine having a phony for a professor! Though he talks a lot about ghosts. Ghosts can’t cause people harm. At most they give a little scare but it’s not like they could cause terrible damage.”
“What about those ectoplasm based ones he was talking about? The solid ones?” Harry asked.
“Rare and unlikely. Ectoplasm doesn’t form in the magical world, Harry! The stuff that leaks through and hangs in the air is only enough to allow ghosts like Nick or Myrtle to hang around in harmless ways.”
“But he said he fought a ghost before he arrived in class! And he looked really beat up!”
“He said he got lost too! Maybe he just stumbled across a guard dog like Fluffy and made up something about ghosts!”
“What if it’s like the last professor though? What if he’s looking for another secret object in Hogwarts walls?” Harry hissed softly, “Ron is right that he just has a sense of oddness about him! I just don’t trust him!”
“Harry, you’re just paranoid from last year. Professor Fenton is normal. Now pick up your pace, we’re going to be late for our next class!”
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Professor Fenton glanced down at Harry, then back at Professor McGonagall, “he has what with me?”
“Detention. You see, Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley caused a bit of a fuss by driving a flying car in plain sight of several muggles, and risked exposing the magical world. As such, his punishment has been detention. I trust you can find some fitting work for him to do as he reflects on his actions?”
Fenton crosses his arms, his mouth tightening slightly into a grimace as his fingers slightly tapped his own arms. “This won’t be every night, will it?” He asked.
“No, we will be switching supervisors for a few weeks but you may also need to supervise Mr. Weasley sometime before then.”
Fenron let out a sigh of defeat, “well- alright. I’ll take care of it then.”
Professor McGonagall gave a curt nod before turning stiffly and walking off. Professor Fenton scratched at the back of his neck as he watched her walk off, then glanced down at Harry, those eyes seeming to search him for… something. Then that stern look relaxed into a lopsided grin, “So you were the one that made that stuck up ministry trip over their hats and scramble around in blind panic! I say, hats off to you young Potter!” He laughed.
Harry blinked in confusion at the shift in mood, then Fenton patted him on the back, “hey, no need to look so freaked out! I’m not gonna bite ya!” He began walking forward, and it took Harry an extra second to realize that the professor was moving and he should follow. “Oh, wait you probably are a little freaked out, huh? I guess my mood could have been a bit better this morning, I was just a little flabbergasted today. I was kinda rushed into this position, you know.” He shrugged, his hands shoved into his cloak’s pockets. He didn’t really walk like any of the other Hogwarts professors. He had this relaxed saunter, like he was more of a visiting relative than a staff member. “Say, let’s say your ‘punishment’ will just be helping me bring some books from the library to my quarters. There’s a lot I need to run through and a single trip would make all the difference.”
Harry nodded, finding it hard to keep up with the man's long strides. “So… you don’t like the ministry of magic?” Harry asked.
Professor Fenton huffed in annoyance, “not one bit. They are almost worse than observants!” Harry had no idea what those were. Another level of magic government? “They try to control every little thing. Don’t expose magic to the normal world. Don’t use magic to make technology without permission. Don’t use magic to save muggle children if people are watching.” His said in a mocking tone, “they have so many rules that are outdated or stupid. Never trust a government, kid! Especially a magical one!”
“What are… observants?”
Fenton glanced down at Harry, “oh those stuck up jerks? They are like the government of the ghost realm. Really annoying. Unlike the Ministry of Magic, they actually know how to find me!” He laughed.
“Ghosts have governments?”
“Oh yeah! They have more of a monarchy, the observants are like hermit wizards that only step in when they believe the world is in peril. Meanwhile the rest falls on the shoulders of the Ghost King.”
Harry frowned, “I’ve never read about that in the textbooks. Hermione says that ghosts are just harmless beings formed from souls that aren’t ready to leave the mortal realm.”
“Well she’s half right. There’s different kinds of ghosts, like Sir Nicolas and the Bloody Baron. They are more like echoes. Souls that cling desperately to this world but didn’t have enough ectoplasm to become a fully solid ectoplasmic being. They won’t leave for the infinite realms until they are ready, though many believe they are trapped here forever. More solid ghosts form in a similar way but are exposed to more ectoplasm, but rarely show up because natural portals to the infinite realms are sparse and in between. Well until about a decade ago.”
“Infinite Realms? Natural Portals?” Harry felt like his head was going to explode.
“Well, there should be some books about that in the muggle section.. Though some wizards would say it’s all garbage because muggles discovered and studied it. Just look up my name under the author and you should find some.”
“Oh… wait- did you write them? Is that why you know so much about ghosts?”
Professor Fenton barked out a loud laugh, doubling over as he clutched his sides, “Ah! No! No, I didn’t write them! My parents did!” He cackled. “Ah, yeah but I did learn from them. And a bit of field work. Tell Miss Granger to check them out too, I’m sure she wouldn’t mind having something to read. She reminds me of my sister in that way.” He stopped in front of the library doors, “Aha! I knew we would find this place eventually!”
Harry looked at Professor Fenton in bewilderment, “you didn’t know where we were going?!”
Fenton shook his head and shot him another grin, “nope! I’ve been constantly getting lost in these dumb halls. This place constantly moves and I absolutely hate it. Even the Infinite Realms make more sense than this castle!”
Harry stuttered, “If the infinite realms is where ghosts go, isn’t that like… the afterlife? You’ve been to the afterlife?”
Professor Fenton lazily shrugged and opened the doors to the library, “yes and no. It’s all complicated. I’ll tell you a different time.”
Harry stood there for a few more seconds as his brain tried to catch up with the information, and once he managed to close his mouth he chased after the Professor.
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Harry glanced around the Professors room as he followed after him, arms filled with books that seemed to suspiciously be only about the Dark Arts. He’d never been to a professor's living quarters, at most he had been in some offices. Even so, it was not at all what he imagined a wizard's living quarters would look like.
First off, there seemed to be technology. He recognized a coffee machine on a low table, but it wasn’t plugged into anything. There was an odd box that looked like a slightly smaller television, it’s screen black and wires sticking out of it attached to a rectangular box with a lot of buttons on top of it and a small round device. There was also a radio, and a huge telescope leaning out the largest window. As Harry looked, he began to notice spaceships literally in every corner of the room. Different kinds as well, some would even move and blast off. The most amazing part was the roof of his room. It was almost exactly like the great hall as it rose into dark nothingness, but the stars were MUCH brighter and all the constellations had been traced out, some brighter than others. For someone who knew a lot about ghosts, he seemed to really like space. Then there were also some odd things thrown around, like a very weird looking thermos. Or a metal… boomerang?
“Just place them over here, Harry!” Fenton called as he dropped his pile of books onto a couch in the corner. Harry did as he was told, placing the books down a little more gently than the professor did.
“Professor… how did you get these things to work? Technology usually… explodes around magic,” Harry asked.
“Oh! Well it’s because I power them myself!” Professor Fenton chirped. “They don’t work the same way as regular technology. Again, I recommend checking out some of the notes in the Fentons books, they have a lot of stuff that works in the magical realm.”
“Why would you need it though? Doesn’t magic make up for a lot of technology?” Harry asked.
“Ah, but that’s where you are wrong you see! There is nothing in the magical world that is equivalent to the coffee machine!”
Harry blinked, “... what.”
“It’s a very important machine, Harry. You will depend greatly on it once you need to stay up for an entire week. But! It seems our time together has come to an end. Thanks for your help, Harry, and if McGonagall asks, tell her I made you scrub toilets or something,” he winked.
Harry grinned back, heading towards the doorway to go find Ron and Hermione. He closed the door behind and the moment it clicked shut, he saw a flash appear from under the door.
He paused slightly, but shrugged. Maybe a comet passed by on the enchanted roof of his room. He then headed down the halls to find his friends.
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“Not normally invited?” Harry asked.
Hermione nodded, “Ghosts throw death day parties like birthday parties, but rarely do they ever invite living people!”
“I see, so Sir Nick really wanted us to be there,” Harry pondered as the trio entered the party area. He immediately was hit with an awful stench, nearly gagging before he had to swallow it as Sir Nicholas noticed their arrival and approached swiftly with the widest smile they had ever seen on his face.
“Harry! Ron! Hermione! You all made it! Oh this brings such joy to my cold, dead heart!”
“Glad to see you as well, Sir Nick,” Harry struggled not to gag on the smell.
“Say, why do ghosts even celebrate the day they died? Isn’t that… like a very traumatic experience you would rather not remember?” Ron somehow managed to ask.
“Well, ghosts like to celebrate it to commodirate a start to a new chapter of our afterlife!” He paused, glancing across the room for a split second, “most ghosts that is, and the death day isn’t to remind us of our death. It more serves to encourage us to look forward! No one really wants to remember how we died. Never a pretty picture.”
Harry followed Nicholas’s gaze for the split second glance, then noticed a ghost he had never seen before. He ignored the smell (they would have to ask about that later) and nudged Hermione, pointing at the ghost, “hey Hermione, have you ever seen that ghost around the castle before? I don’t remember seeing him from last year…”
The ghost in question seemed so much stranger than the rest, he had a brighter glow, where he should have had legs, merged into what seemed to be a ghostly tail, drifting lazily like caught in a breeze. Long hair whiter than snow itself drifted around like caught underwater, and bits that weren’t drifting were braided neatly and lost in the rest of it as it constantly moved. The ghost had purple skin, pointed ears, green freckles dotting his cheeks and long sharp fangs showing as he laughed at another ghost's joke. He dressed like a medieval lord, wearing a delicately detailed black and white tunic tucked into a braided belt circling his waist, his ghostly tail completely black. Thick white leather gloves covered both his hands as he waved them around while he spoke. A white cape hung off his shoulders, but when the cape occasionally drifted to show the inside, it was like the ghost had taken the night sky and attached it to the garment. Thick fur wrapped around his shoulders and long and sharp horns that looked like ice circled his head like a crown.
Toxic green eyes that had irises that seemed to swirl around the pupil glanced at the trio and Harry suddenly felt very very small.
“I… don’t know. I haven’t even heard of any ghost that looked like him before,” Hermione seemed like she was at a loss, probably scouting through her thoughts and memories for any trace or mention of the unfamiliar ghost.
Sir Nicholas cut in, “oh! That may be because King Phantom doesn’t live in this castle! He’s mainly only here to visit for the year!”
Ron gapped, “... did you say… king? Was he a king before he died?”
Sir Nicholas frowned, “no, of course not! He’s the king of all ghosts! King of the infinite realms! The one who defeated Pariah Dark in single combat barely a year after he died! The youngest and most beloved king we ghosts have had in such a very long time.”
“There’s a king of ghosts? And that’s him?” Harry asked.
“That’s what I just said, my dear boy. Keep up!”
“I don’t want to seem rude, Sir Nicholas but… why is he here?” Hermione gasped, “if he really is such a powerful and imposing figure, doesn’t he have a lot of duties to fulfil?”
“Well, he told us he was technically here on business but that it requires time and an investigation that could take a few months. So he could visit and celebrate with us from time to time! He’s a very relaxed man, I assure you. Here let me introduce you all to him! My Liege! I have some friends you absolutely must meet!”
The King looked over and smiled widely, “friends, you say?” His voice echoed more than the other ghosts, seeming to carry across the room as he spoke. He then blinked in surprise and turned to Nick, “Sir Nicholas… you realize these three are still amongst the living?”
“Why of course! Harry is the Boy Who Lived! The first to survive the death spell!” Sir Nicholas said quite proudly.
The King drifted down towards the three, causing Ron to slightly flinch at his approach, his hands clasped together as worry seemed to etch on his face, “well, most ghosts don’t have a very good sense of smell or taste, right? Which is why we have all the rotting food out?”
“Yes?” Sir Nicholas still didn’t seem to catch on.
King Phantom held out his hand, producing clothing hanger clips made purely of ice, “The living can still very much smell and taste, and I don’t think it’s exactly the smell of roses and lavender.”
Sir Nicholas blinked, “oh. Oh! Oh Harry and friends, I apologize for forgetting such a detail!”
Harry, Ron and Hermione all graciously accept the clips, pinning them on their noses to escape the horrid smell. Then Hermione turned towards the Ghost King with a glint in her eyes, “wait- how did you do that? Ghosts aren’t this solid- and they definitely can’t use magic!”
Phantom chuckled, drifting back into the air as he pointed to the crown of ice horns on his head, “Well first off, I’m the king so I get some bonuses. As well as not all ghosts work the same. You should try listening to that Dark Arts professor of yours when he talks about ghosts. He’s quite knowledgeable about all things not living.”
“But- but years of documentation and research-!” Hermione tried to argue before the King tutted.
“Information is constantly changing and growing, something that seems pretty constant could change in seconds and turn your whole world upside down. Not to mention, many different types of ghosts like myself only became more common recently. Before, most of us were confined to the infinite realms, only ghosts like Sir Nicholas forming for many centuries and the different kinds rarely slipped out.”
“Well-, what changed?” Hermione challenged.
King Phantom sported a playful grin, “I d̶͙͉̓̓i̷̢̩̬̘̟̽ę̴̘̲̹̤͌̊d̸̢̳̞̄.”
He then turned and left the three on that note as he went to join other ghosts at the party.
“What does he mean by that?” Hermione huffed.
“He’s got an odd sense of humour, that’s for sure,” Sir Nicholas laughed.
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Harry couldn’t stop his glare that shot towards Professor Snape as he accused Harry of petrifying Mrs. Norris and writing the bloody message that stained the wall. Before he could snap back at him that he did not do any of this, Professor Fenton seemed to almost step out of thin air to his defense.
“Mr. Potter was with me all night, he did not do this,” his voice laced with a chilling venom. Was he… lying for him?
Snape tilted his chin up, attempting to look down on Fenton who was no longer hunched, and instead stood tall at his full height. It was quite difficult to do as it turned out, Fenton towered over every other Professor in the area. “And who, pray tell, are you?” Snape seemed to almost spit.
A sinister grin spread across the tall Professor's features as he stepped in front of Harry, leaning menacingly over the shorter wizard and blocking his view of the student, “Professor Fenton, the professor of the Dark Arts. Accusing a second year of such a powerful spell isn’t a very wise take, now is it Professor Snape?” Fenton basically spat his name.
Snape glared back, “you would be surprised what Potter is capable of, especially the trouble he gets himself in.”
“How about you try not pinning the blame on a 12 year old child?”
“That is enough out of both of you,” Dumbledore stepped in. “We all know Harry was not responsible for this, as Professor Fenton’s defence is true. We have a healthy patch of mandrake roots that will cure Mrs. Norris of her petrification, and students will resume their classes while the professors investigate the issue. Now you three will return to your dorms for the rest of the night.”
Harry hesitated before he headed back towards the dorms, but didn’t fail to notice how Professor Fenton’s eyes flashed toxic green, or the wink sent in his direction.
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saturnsstufff · 4 years ago
Note
okay as a chubby girl myself I struggle with how I see myself and this idea makes my heart KSHDHSJS
okay so imagine IMAGINE
Request maybe 🤔🤔🤔
Okay,, you’re standing in the mirror yk in your mirror at technos house/cottage in your underwear and stuff, grabbing at the chub and stuff looking upset and not feeling good about yourself, and techno walking into the room and seeing this. yk him being upset that you feel that way Bc he thinks youre just so pretty 🥺.
IT COULD EITHER GO INTO A SMUT( 😏 where he SHOWS you how much he loves you and how pretty he thinks you are in the mirror) OR FLUFF WITH SOFT WORDS AND CUDDLES or both idk
*slams hand on desk* IVE BEEN WAITIN FOR THIS
I went with both, because I like options. I also based this off a little personal feelings so I hope it works!
My Goddess- Technoblade
Warnings: self conscious reader, swearing, NSFW
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   The mirror. Your best, but worst nightmare imaginable. Some days you could look into it and see beauty within your curves. Spend endless minutes hyping yourself up. 'Man I look good' 'I am the fucking shit' 'damn look at that' all little things you tell yourself in pride. Because in those moments, you feel powerful. In those moments you feel like you own the world, that others are just lucky to breathe within your presence.
   However, there are bad days. There are days when looking into the mirror brings shame. Days when all you can do is grab at your stomach, and ponder of what you could have done, or what you will do. Its pressed that everyone is perfect in our own imaginable ways. Yet when you look at others, you cant help but be envious. Others can get away with wearing tight clothing, baggy clothing, any type of clothing. Yet when you try it on all you see is a box, if you wear tight clothing, every roll and muffin top pops out. It can be embarrassing.
   Techno never saw your curves as embarrassing however. He loved them. He loved the plush, soft skin of your tummy or your thighs. Your hips? don't even ask what he thought on hips, as long as they were yours. They were perfect.
   With that said, when he saw you saddened about your form he was slightly hurt. You thought he was beautiful, a hybrid of a monster. But yet you couldn't find the beauty within your rolls? Your plump little form? The very thing that made up you? If he ever found out who planted these seeds of lies in your mind, he would have words.
   If you felt confident enough to take the world by the horns, he let you. He would build you up with sweet words of encouragement. 'Well don't you look amazing...' 'you are looking beautiful as ever'. They were small phrases but they meant a lot to you.
   Techno isn't verbal with his love, or compliments really. He chooses to show it, words are just that. Words. Actions are done, are shown. They are physically put into motion. That's why he prefers it. But he also understands sometimes words are needed. They are needed to ease your nerves and doubtful mind.
   when he catches you glaring at your plump form in the mirror, he cant help but quickly move to your side. Kneeling and kissing up your body. Your arms, your thighs, everything. In the beginning he would let you look away. The idea of someone liking your body type left you uncertain, many times you would ponder if his endless kisses were done as a joke. But each and every time he would reassure you that it was real. That him loving you, loving your body. It wasn't in pity, it was in genuine love.
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   Tonight was one of those bad nights. With Techno in the bath, you were left to change for bed. Wait for him to come out, and then cuddle the night away until the sun kissed the horizon.
   But well you changed your eyes fell to the mirror. Your eyes casually roamed your body. You were used to looking at it so nothing stood out of course. But as you shifted, you caught a few stretch marks within the candle light. They looked like streaks of lightning that were dragged across your skin. With a quick glance away, you pulled something over your form. Wanting to cover your body and deal with that mental baggage later.
   Of course the Hybrid that stood tall within the door frame held other ideas about that moment. The one thing that always put you at ease was Techno's size. Before you were in a relationship with him, you feared you wouldn't be able to wear your lovers clothing. Being a bit plumper meant "one size fit all" did not fit all. But luckily, with your roughly 6ish/7ish foot Piglin Hybrid of a lover, all of his clothing was a bit baggy on you. Technoblade was a very Built man, this came from his never ending training and his natural born strength of course. But even with him being built and big, the first time he asked you to sit on his lap had you hesitant. What if he found you too heavy? The idea of him asking you to move off would leave you completely mentally ruined. Of course when you finally sat he didn't utter any words besides praises. His hands running gently over your thighs, with a tight grasp he kept you close. When Techno saw you ease into his lap more often, he took pride in knowing you were comfortable enough to do it on a daily basis. That was when he upped the bar again. The day he asked you to sit on his face was the day you had a heart attack. You were so paranoid you would crush him. Of course he was all bemused smirks well you tried to think of excuses. Yet this man was able to ease your nerves and reassure you until you were comfortable once again. You would never forget how giddy he was to be between your thighs. That was the day he found his favorite spot.
   Before you could ease some bottoms over your underwear, this man had his arms around you. Pushing against your hands. His nose was nuzzled into your neck muttering gently "Please, leave them off for now..." with a brow raised you complied. You let the shorts drop to the floor, assuming you would be coming for them in a brief moment. You could smell the lingering sent from his shampoo. The fresh smell giving you great comfort.
   Techno moved you back to face the mirror, his head moving briefly so he could see you face yourself. With a light stubble scratching against your neck you felt the goosebumps rise. Your eyes met his ruby ones within the mirror. "Do you know, how beautiful you are?..." he asked rhetorically. Dragging out the words that he felt were important. You wanted to say no, but knew he wouldn't want that answer.
   "I think I'm alright..." you said softly. He hummed and pressed a loving kiss to your neck. His hands slowly fell down to the buttons of the shirt you were wearing. Skillfully he undid them without thought. When you had pulled a shirt on you didn't think much, but now saw that it was his you wore. Of course he didn't mind, he never minded.
   With the buttons undone he opened the shirt to expose your naked form. Every curve and roll on sweet display for him "You are beyond 'alright'... alright is basic. You know my goddess is beyond mortal definitions..." you gave a gentle smile at his charm, glancing away from his eyes. He didn't allow this tonight however. Instead he took your jaw and gently redirected it to the mirror. Meeting his gaze again.
   "My love... My goddess, you know your body rivals the gods, yes?..." you slightly shrugged, unsure if this was true. With another loving kiss he continued. "Persephone had rolls... She was just as plump as you my love..." you fallowed his eyes gently. Him comparing you to the beautiful goddess left you feeling better. If someone so divine could have rolls why couldn't you?
   He didn't stop there however. "If you cant see your beauty. Let me show you how beautiful you are..." his tone was pleading. Like a animal begging for spare scraps. You watched his eyes, his finger and thumb having control over your chin. You thought on his words and gave a brief nod to him. Trusting him and whatever he had planned.
   Instead of immediately kissing you all over, he pulled away. Firmly telling you to keep your eyes on the mirror. You felt a bit awkward standing there, your legs shifting closer underneath you. He soon came back however, his crown in hand. You could also see he had a simple gray towel around his waist, showing he was fresh from the bath.
   Your curiosity with the crown lingered, but you watched as he put it on your head. "You are a queen... My Queen... You will always be reminded of your everlasting beauty for as long as you are with me..." for not complementing a lot, tonight he was on a roll. Your eyes ran over the crown. The delicate and bright stones contrasting the shimmering gold well against your skin.
   He walked around to the front of you, leaning down to meet your lips in a loving kiss. His hand found a firm places on your hip, and on the plush skin of your ass cheek. With a gentle, but firm grasp he moved and rolled the skin beneath his hand. Loving how soft you were. With his hands working soft whimpers and moans out of you, his mouth devoured them. Eating every noise you made, cherishing them deep within his heart.
   Leaving your lips swollen he moved down. Kissing your jaw and neck. Planning to leave you a work of art. A show of how much he loves you.
   After your neck it was your chest. Soft plump breasts fitting ever so sweetly within his hands. With firm grasps he had you flushed red whimpering. Your eyes half lidded with the sweet lingering pleasure. Yet you still watched yourself and him, knowing to not disobey him.
   With soft kisses placed to the tops of your breasts and nipples he moved to your stomach. This is where you craved to look away. Wishing to hide yourself in his neck.
   "T..T-Techno..." he hummed acknowledging your words. But he still pressed light kisses down to the hem of your underwear.
  “Keep your eyes on the mirror." He said, pulling them down. Helping you step out of the discarded clothing. You couldn't see his face. Only his backside was facing the mirror, and even then his long wet hair hid most of his toned back.
   His fingers ran through your slit briefly. His rings offered a major temperature difference between your heat and the cold metal. With a little squirm his hands moved and held you in place. Desiring to keep you in place before he moved his head in and started to devour you. Eating you out like it was his last meal on earth.
   With a ever so sinful cry, you gripped at his hair. Begging for your knee's to not give out. With one hand on his head, the other one flew to the crown on your head. Trying to keep it on well you easily hunched over from the overwhelming pleasure. Techno never failed to leave you speechless- or should we say, he never left you quiet. Even if you could see yourself, you didn't think you would be able to focus much. Your eyes were tightly shut well your mouth ran between being in a 'O' and being locked shut.
   He did pull back from your folds to speak. Earning a cry from you. You were getting close and him pulling away was painful. "You can cum. But you have to keep your eyes open" you nodded profusely. Agreeing to anything if it meant feeling his lips back on you. He lingering a moment. Making sure your eyes opened before he leaned back. Taking his time to show your clit attention before going back to his main course.
   With your eyes looking back at you. You were unsure if you were ashamed with how blissed out you looked or happy. The whole scene in itself was erotic. You were incredibly small compared to the giant between your legs. His only drive to please you completely. Your eyes never left the mirror as he ate you out to your climax. Your hips stuttering and bucking, but proving no use to his iron grip. When you came he waisted no time at cleaning it up. He had no shame, that your cum was running down his chin. He was happy when you were pleased. And he knows you are definitely pleased after that climax.
   But he wasn't finished. With your legs weakening he helped you down onto his lap. He let you collect yourself against his chest for a few moments his hand ran over your back.
   "Doin' ok there Princess?..." you nodded slowly. Your chest rising and falling fast well you try and calm yourself. "Think you can do one more?" You nodded again well he pressed a kiss to your forehead, acknowledging your response. Adjusting his crown on your head, he moved so the mirror was beside you two. Showing both of your bodies, with the towel acting as a thin barrier.
   When you both were situated he did remove the towel. With a strong arm he lifted you up and positioned his hardened cock at your entrance, wasting no spare moment to fill you up. Well you did try to hide within his neck, it proved no use. He made sure to turn your head to the mirror.
   With your eyes hitting the mirror you saw how his head was beside yours. Your cheek was pressed to his chest well his was pressed to your forehead. His eyes lingeried your body. Drowning in your blissed out form. He found you utterly perfect.
   Well your bodies were connected, it almost looked like art. With techno's sharp gaze and your blissed out reddened cheeks, the contrast was there but yet they went together in perfect harmony. With the roll of his hips he made sure to keep your eyes on the mirror. Wanting to drag out every cry and moan you could utter. He set his pace at a rhythmic thrust, wanting to not only pleasure you, but himself as well. Well you griped to his sides, he kept his hand on he back of your head gently. Wanting to keep your head facing the mirror. With sweet sinful praises he coached you to a second orgasm, his fallowing close behind. He kissed your head gently, keeping you close to him well he felt himself soften. when his eyes met yours in the mirror he smiled softly. 
“Look at how beautiful you are... Always so, so beautiful Princess...”
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johnnysnostril · 3 years ago
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makeup sex with nct 127 | part four [18+]
mark & haechan
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i slipped my phone underneath my sheets and cuddled into my pillow.
yes, i was home and no he didn’t need to know that.
i didn’t wanna talk. there was nothing to be talked about.
mark knew how jealous i could get, but it’s only because everyone fucking loves him. i never get any of his time anymore- and the longer he stayed away, the more jealous and paranoid i got. i don’t think he really understood that though. i didn’t mean to be so jealous, i was just always worried that someone was going to take my place, like in the past.
i know mark was different but still- i was worried.
suddenly my mom came knocking on my door.
“honey, mark is here.” she whispered with a smile.
i shook my head.
“i’m not here.” i whispered back.
my mom slightly frowned, eventually nodding then making her way back downstairs.
i laid still on my mattress, trying to see if i can hear what was going on- nothing. it was quiet as a mouse.
i finally exhaled deeply and shut my eyes, thinking i was in the clear.
a few moments later, my door opened.
“i’m sorry mom, i just don’t wanna talk right now.” i mumbled, trying to not cry. she said nothing. the door softly shut and i finally let out a few tears. i really hated crying.
i felt my cover pull back, as someone climbed in behind me- wrapping an arm around my waist.
“baby, don’t cry..” i heard mark’s voice say.
realizing it was him, i just cried even more. he squeezed me close to his chest and placed an innocent kiss on my shoulder.
“why are you crying?” he whispered against my skin.
i didn’t answer. i didn’t want to-
“baby, talk to me- please.” he pleaded.
mark gently climbed over me, making his way to the other side of the mattress so he could see my face.
i instantly hid.
“stop it-“ he said pulling my hands away and pulling me into his chest.
��i didn’t mean to make you feel like this, my love.” he admitted. “i swear on my life, you’re the only one i want.” mark slowly rubbed my back to try and calm me down.
i could feel his heartbeat. it was so calm. it almost made me feel better.
“i promise you, nothing happened- i would never lie to you.”
mark slightly pulled himself back, searching for my eyes.
i looked up at him and he smiled.
“god, you’re so beautiful.” mark’s eyes glistened as he looked at me. he lifted my hand, placing it on his chest- to feel his heartbeat. “do you feel that?” he asked. i nodded.
his heart was racing.
“you’re the only person who can do that to me..” mark whispered. “only you.” wiping one of my tears away, he leaned forward- placing soft kisses over my eyelids. “you’re still the most beautiful woman to me- even on your worse days.”
i rested my head on his chest and just listened to his heartbeat.
mark had never really done anything to hurt me. it was just my mind playing tricks on me, like it always did.
“why do you put up with me?” i mumbled into his chest.
he answered right away.
“i love you- and there’s nothing that could change that. i told you i’m here for you and that’s what i mean.” he began. “i’m here regardless if you don’t want me to be. you’re my person and i won’t give up on you, babe. i’m patient and will love you through all the pain you’ve experienced.”
as we looked at each other, i could feel my body becoming numb with tingles.
i loved this man so much.
“i love you-“ he repeated. “so much.” mark cracked an innocent smile as he glanced down at my lips.
“am i wrong for wanting to kiss you right now?” he groaned.
i shook my head.
instantly, he leaned in- connecting our lips and tangling his fingers in my hair.
the butterflies flew through my stomach as i slipped my fingertips underneath his shirt.
within seconds, his tongue was in my mouth- swirling around mine. his kisses were intense and deep, making me breathe a bit heavier.
mark found himself on top of me, as i tugged at his shirt. taking the hint, he lifted up and removed the fabric from his body- throwing it on the floor.
we haven’t had sex in almost two months.
our bodies were hungry.
before i knew it, we were both naked. mark’s fingers were inside me as he continued to kiss me. i moaned against his lips, gently sinking my teeth into his bottom lip. as i spread my legs wider, his fingers moved faster.
sliding my fingers into the back of his hair, i pulled him closer before releasing his lip.
“mark, fuck me-“ i moaned.
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i threw my phone on my mattress and groaned loudly as i got up to get dressed. haechan was so damn hardheaded and it really annoyed me sometimes.
i quickly dressed myself in some jeans and one of his hoodies.
hearing a knock on the door, i rolled my eyes and made my way to the peephole.
seeing it was haechan, i folded my arms around my chest. “who is it?” i said with an attitude.
“the best boyfriend in the world. what do you mean?! open the door.” he said playfully. “no.” i shouted back.
he smiled and leaned against the pillar by the doorbell.
sighing, he slipped his hand into his pocket- pulling out my favorite candy.
“alright- well, i guess i’ll have to eat this by myself then.”
my eyes scanned the wrapper as he peeled back the shiny paper.
“you asshole.” i mumbled.
as i clicked the top lock, haechan stuff the candy in his mouth. i ripped the door open- making my way over to him and slapped his chest. “oh hey, babe. i didn’t see you there.” he joked. as i tried to snatch the candy out of his hands, he held it above his head as he chewed.
“mm mm, imma need a kiss first before you try and steal from me.” he winked, pushing his lips out for a kiss. i stood there for a minute before sighing, reaching over to the front door to close it- then made my way over to his car.
haechan laughed and quickly ran behind me.
“nice hoodie.” he said slapping my butt.
i ignored him.
reaching his car, i yanked on the door handle.
“not so fast, little missy.” he said dangling the car keys in front of my face as he leaned against the back door. haechan smiled and poked his lips out again for a kiss. i rejected him.
“why are you still mad, huh?” he said in a serious tone, trying to give me the candy.
“i don’t want it.” i lied.
“yeah right. just take it, meany.”
snatching the candy out of his hand, i placed my free hand on my hip. “so, i’m the mean one?” i began. “after you cancelled on me, again?!” i shouted.
haechan pouted, reaching out to hold my waist.
“i said i’m sorry baby. that’s why i’m here.”
i shook my head, looking off to the side.
“i’m so tired of your shit, haechan.” i admitted.
“i know-“ he shot back. “i’m trying, okay?” leaning down a little, he kissed my neck. “please be patient with me. i really don’t mean to work this much- i just don’t have a choice right now, babe.” he mumbled against my skin.
haechan slowly rocked us back and forth before he chuckled.
“hug me, baby. i haven’t seen you in two weeks.”
he kissed my neck again.
i shut my eyes, trying not to be angry anymore.
he smelled so good and he felt good against my body.
“if you’re nice to me, i can show you what i have planned.” his hands trailed down to my butt and he softly squeezed.
i didn’t want him to know that i was actually enjoying this moment.
he lifted his head and smiled down at me.
“don’t be so angry with me. i really have something special planned.” once again, he pushed his lips out for a kiss.
i actually kissed him back, but only a little.
being the dramatic soul he was, he instantly fell back against the car- holding his chest.
“oh my god. are you trying to kill me?” he shouted. “damn, someone bring me an oxygen tank!”
i rolled my eyes and laughed at his comment just before he sat back up to cup my chin. “there’s that beautiful smile.”
haechan unlocked the doors, opening the passenger side- for me to get in.
pulling into a tiny parking lot, he parked the car. “what are we doing at the beach?” i asked as i finished the other half of the candy bar. haechan smiled, getting out of the front seat and making his way to the backseat. i followed behind him.
as he faced me, he pulled me in for a kiss and i went with it.
“i wanted to just chill here with you and watch the water.” he mumbled. “but there’s something i need to take care of first.”
in one motion, he popped the button on my jeans and yanked the zipper down.
“what are you doing?” i said leaning back, with a slight smile.
as he pushed me back into the seats, he continued.
i watched him as he removed my shoes, jeans and underwear in a quick manner.
“clearly, you need a reminder of who am i.” he smirked.
pushing my legs open, he lowered himself down and began to eat me out.
haechan tossed my legs over his shoulders, making himself comfortable as he swirled his tongue around my clit.
i moaned loudly.
he was vicious with his tongue and lips as he sucked and licked. i tangled my fingers in his hair and crumbled under his touch.
“daddy…” i moaned out.
280 notes · View notes
missdawnandherdusk · 4 years ago
Text
Love Story
Draco X Reader
Request: @dracofeltonmalfoy​: your heart breaks at seventeen when you realize that Draco doesn’t love you enough to not marry his betrothed, Astoria. It’s years later and though you’re still hesitant and bitter about what occurred, you still answer the call that Ginny makes to you to help Draco. 
A/n: Look at me posting!! And during midterm week no less!! Thank you so much for this request! (I promise I’m getting to the rest of them). And can I say that I am in love with grown up Draco? Like yes ma’am I’ll take them all. Maturity is attractive. Let me know what you think! I love y’all so much. 
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“You don’t understand,” Draco paced the small room. “I have to marry her,”
“Sure,” I spat. “Marry Astoria. I don’t give a damn anymore Malfoy,” I hadn’t used his last name in such a malice tone in years. I could see the effect that it had on him, his face fell.
“Don’t say that,” He begged softly, “Please, I love you,”
“But not enough,” I raised an eyebrow at him. “What happened to everything that we planned? All of the things you promised me? Where did that Draco go?” My voice became thick with tears. “No, you’re so paranoid about your reputation... I’m not waiting around for you to figure out who you want or who you want to follow. I don’t care.” A heavy silence and I had decided. “Have a nice life, Draco.”
“Y/n,” He called as I stood to leave.
“No,” I snapped. “Just... no. I deserve more than this.” 
“I know,” He confessed in a small voice.
That was the last time I spoke to Draco Malfoy in years. At first, I was okay with it. I felt free. I had moved on, found someone new that made what he did to me hurt a bit less. It wasn’t the same, nor what I felt when I was with Draco, but it was enough for the moment. He didn’t last long, and my heart still waited for Draco on some nights, but I had grown up. I had grown confident. I was independent. I didn’t need anyone to tell me they loved me because I loved me. And that was enough. I had healed from having to walk away or face being cut off forever.
I assumed that Draco was happy. His union with Astoria was in the paper. The invitation I received was burned. Why he’d think to invite me left me aggravated and loathing him more than before. But that night I was weak. I cried for Draco Malfoy that night. I almost went. But I refrained. I knew nothing would change even if I did go, so I’d rather be left wondering than left crushed.
The next time I saw Draco’s name in the paper, it was splashed across the front page. A scandal that Skeeter couldn’t wait to publish and get her hands on. Astoria Malfoy caught in an affair with Blaise Zabini. I saw Draco’s stoic face, and though the image moved, and the small child in his arms squirmed, he remained static. I threw the paper down because though it was just a photograph, his eyes still bore into mine, in the same pleading look that he gave me before I left him. I wonder if he knew that I see the photo.
I wonder if he knew that I still loved him even after all these years.
And I had no intention of crossing paths with him. Though I thought about it. A lot. And maybe I had actually written the letter before I burned it... but I decided that no. I was not interfering with his life.
I just never thought that he’d interfere with mine. Well, Harry interfered with my life. Well, Ginny did.
Ginny and I got lunch every once in a while, to catch up along with Hermione. Now that our Hogwarts days and the war was over, an amity fell between the three of us. And it was nice to see some old faces that didn’t cause my heart to rabbit trail into painful memories.
It was a phone call that I had gotten that interfered with my quaint Friday night. 
“Are you in town?” Ginny’s voice sounded strained and frantic.
“Yes, why?” I set down my book, standing.
“Can you come over? We... have a situation...” She voiced.
“What sort of situation?” I pressed, going looking for my shoes and cloak. “Harry just did a spell wrong and now he can’t speak English situation or Ron and Harry tried to do something stupid on their brooms and need medical attention sort of situation?” I teased lightly.
“It relates more to the former...” Ginny sounded almost hesitant to give me details. Her voice was suddenly far from the receiver and muffled. “No, Scorpius, put that down! Harry! No don’t encourage him!” That caught my attention.
“Ginny, what in Merlin’s name!?” I demanded.
“Please just get over here, you were better than we were at potions,”
“Ginny,” I baited.
“Thank you!” Was all she got out and I heard a crash before the line disconnected.
Utterly shocked and standing in deafening silence I let out a frustrated growl. After grabbing my carpet bag of miscellaneous counter curses, antidotes, and talismans I took the Floo network to the Potter’s.
And the sight before me was something that I would not have ever imagined. Draco was slung over Harry’s shoulder, looking intoxicated and completely out of it. Nothing like the cold refined man that I knew him to be. Then Scorpius was running around with Albus all trying to be corralled by James and Ginny while Lily laughed in the background, sitting on the counters.
Deciding that Harry could help with the children more than I could, I rushed to his side and took Draco off his hands, supporting him.
“What’s wrong with him?” I bit out, watching as Harry scooped up Albus as Ginny swooped in and caught Scorpius.
“Nothing, well, he’s been drugged but we’re sure it should wear off in a few hours.” Harry appeased, almost nonchalant.
“Drugged?” I demanded, leading Draco to a well-loved recliner.
“I’m finnnnne,” Draco slurred, his fine blond hair hanging into his eyes in a complete mess. “You have such pretty eyes Y/n,” Draco’s head lulled back against the recliner back as his half- opened eyes gazed into mine.
“Yeah, okay,” I smiled sweetly and gave an alarming look to Ginny—Harry having disappeared into the house with the three other children. “You’ve got to be bloody joking,” I hissed, nearing her.
“I know! Harry was filming him. You should have heard him on the way over. Wouldn’t shut up about you.”
“Get him upstairs.” I begged, exasperated and rubbing my face. “I’m going to find Harry.”
“What? Why?” Ginny’s eyebrows furrowed as she set Scorpius down now that he was calmed with the lack of the other children.
“Because no one makes fun of Draco!” I shouted, not realizing the depth of my words, or how much I sounded like I did back at Hogwarts... when Draco loved me.
Ginny and I both seemed to grasp this as I went red and sighed, going to find Harry. After throwing his phone out the third-floor window, I headed back down a level to where Ginny had taken Draco to a spare room. I found Draco asleep in the bed and Ginny leaning against the doorjamb.
“He’s still asking for you,” Ginny muttered. “He wants to know where the ‘fairest maiden has gone and when will she return’” She raised an eyebrow at me.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I groaned, distressed. “How am I supposed to deal with him like this?”
“You probably know better than any of us.” Ginny pointed out. “Isn’t there a counter curse? Or something that you have or know?”
“In all my years I’ve seen nothing close to this. It’s like he’s drunk and on Veritaserum and Amorentia and believe me there is no legal potion out there with that sort of affect.”
“So... what do we do with him?” She asked.
“Wait it out? That’s all I know to do.” I paused. “I’ll stick around and make sure he doesn’t start to die or anything... but I can’t fix him,”
Ginny nodded and gave me a pity look. “Are you going to be okay?”
“That is not the question to ask right now,” I muttered, shrugging off my cloak. “Go on up to Harry and your little ones. Make sure Scorpius is alright, I’ll look after him,”
“If you need anything,” She baited.
“I’ll call,” I smiled.
Alone in the room, I sighed and stared at him before heading to the edge of the bed and sitting gently on the edge.
“Draco?” I asked softly, trying to hide the hurt that sparked in my chest. 
“Y/n, my fair maiden,” He slurred, trying to get up.
“No, no, you need to lie down,” I scolded, pushing him back down, pressing my hand to his forehead—he didn’t have a fever.
“As my lady commands.” He mumbled, causing me to withdraw my touch.
“Don’t.” I inhaled sharply. “You need to sleep Draco. You need to get better.���
“I’m already better with you here,” A dopey smile crossed his face.
“Oh my god Draco!” I snapped, standing, pacing the small room. “Stop saying things like that! You don’t mean them, and I don’t want to hear it!”
When I didn’t get a response from him, I looked over and he was fast asleep at an awkward angle. Sighing, I brushed the stray strands of silky hair from his face and slowly righted him, taking off his shoes and socks positioning him in the center of the bed. After I laid a blanket over him, I sat in the lone chair that was in his room and taking my book from my bag, started again.
It neared eleven at night, and he still hadn’t woken back up. My book finished, I sighed again and stood, stretching. Leaving his room, I saw Harry nodding off in his chair downstairs, Scorpius in his arms, also asleep.
“To bed with you,” I smiled, helping him up.
“Draco?”
“Still asleep.” I informed. “I’m gonna change and I’ll be back to watch him.” 
_______________________
Draco blinked, his head pounding, trying to keep up with the blurred image around him. The first thing he noticed was the blanket over him and his shoes were gone and that you were asleep in the chair next to his bed and this bed was most certainly not his—neither were you for that matter. His memory was fuzzy, and he didn’t remember much, and he didn’t like not remembering.
In an attempt to get up, he woke you, not sure why some part of him cared. He didn’t ask to be taken care of like a child. He processed that he was at the Potter’s for some godforsaken reason, and that you were next to him. Some part of him wished he was just having a really awful nightmare.
“Draco?” You asked sleepily.
Who else would it be?
“Yes,” He spoke quietly.
“Are you... you again?” You mumbled.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” He snapped, defensive that you were there, or anywhere near him. The nightmare continued.
“You were drugged... were acting weird for a while... I had to throw Harry’s phone out a window.” Your words made some sense... except the last part.
“Why would you do that?” He mused, enjoying your half-asleep state.
“He recorded you... was making fun of you... wasn’t right...” You stretched and rubbed your face yawning.
“I see,” There was a pang in his heart at your words. Something reminiscent in them. Maybe this wasn’t a nightmare after all.
You nodded and stood, staggering slightly. “How long have you been there?”
“What time is it?” You asked weakly. 
“Five in the morning,”
“Mhmm... twelve hours? Finished my book.” You gestured vaguely and yawned again. “M’gonna head back home.”
You started to walk towards the door and almost fell. He was there to catch you though. Your hands clutched at his shirt, running the fabric through your fingertips.
“Okay, yeah. You’re going to stay right here,” Draco muttered. “Because I am not dragging you down those stairs or back home.”
“I’m fine, I’ll get Ginny to take me home,” You yawned gesturing vaguely, your eyes still didn’t open all the way.
“No, you’re not. You’re sleep deprived, and whereas I can handle it, you can’t.” However long he had been asleep—twelve hours apparently—had given him enough rest to be completely awake and alert.
“You’re bossy.”
He chuckled at your sleep ridden words and moved you to his bed, tucking you under the blanket he had been under. You smiled and inhaled them deeply, relaxing instantly. He wondered why you thought of him as a reason to relax.
When he got up to leave, your eyes opened partly.
“Where are you going? You need to rest more. You were drugged.” 
“I’ve dealt with worse drugs Y/n,”
“Mmm I don’t think you’ve ever been like that. I’ve seen you high and drunk and that was... something else.” You mumbled. “Please rest Draco. Stay with me and sleep.”
Your words were like daggers to his heart. Were you aware that you were saying them? Surely you couldn’t be, because surely you wouldn’t ever mean them. It had been too long since you ever murmured those words.
“Am I not allowed to find to where my son has gone?” He mused, knowing you’d let him go for that and then be too far into sleep to notice that he didn’t come back.
You hummed in agreement he supposed. Just as he went to close the door, he heard you jumbled words again.
“Why would you say that?” There was hurt and confusion in your tone. “Why would you...?”
Not knowing whatever that was about, Draco closed the door softly behind him and sighed. He felt disgusting. He wanted nothing more than a warm bath and some fresh clothes and for Merlin’s sake a comb. But those things would have to wait, because bright blue eyes blinked up in the early morning as they always did.
“Good morning my little birdie,” Draco smiled, pulling Scorpius into his arms. “Quite a change of scenery here isn’t it?” He mused, to a nodding giggling Scorpius.
“Draco, you’re awake,” The tired voice belonged to Ginny, who sounded surprised even in her weary state.
“I am,” A quiet pause. “Thank you... I’m not quite sure what happened last night but...”
“Do you have any memory at all?” Ginny asked, taking out a jar of applesauce, setting a bowl and spoon for Scorpius.
“I... no. I was at the Gala, next thing I know, I wake up and Y/n is asking if I’m me again,” Draco thanked her and began to spoon feed Scorpius the apple puree.
“Are you, you?” Ginny asked, leaning against the counter before setting off to brew a pot of coffee.
“Quite,” He clipped. “What does that even mean? What happened last night?”
Unbridled terror set in Draco’s chest as Ginny recounted the night back to him. The only thing that kept him from breaking something was the toddler in his arms, clinging to him.
“I... I was asking for Y/n?” Draco asked, his voice shaking.
“Honey, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say even intoxicated and drugged, you knew she’d be there for you,” Ginny raised her eyebrow at him. “You wanna explain that?”
Draco shot her a cold look and went back to aiding Scorpius eat. Maybe that had been why you asked why he would say something like that... and that was a valid and honest question: why would he? He had gotten over you. That was that. He moved on.
Not that he loved Astoria. No, he could never see her as more than someone who drove you away from him. And perhaps that was the reason behind her affair. Maybe it was because she knew that he didn’t love her, and she didn’t love him. Some part of him wished that she had just been honest with him... then it wouldn’t be such gossip in the Wizarding World. They could have divorced and gone on their own ways. But perhaps not. The marriage was arranged. It would take more than a divorce to end it. Perhaps the scandal was for the best after all.
“Thank you for your hospitality, but I’m afraid I have to go,” Draco said softly. 
“Draco,” Ginny chided. “You can’t just leave her here,”
“I can do as I please,” Draco snapped harshly before remembering himself. “Thank you, once more,”
Draco only hesitated when he went to fetch his shoes from the spare room, and caught sight of you sleeping soundly, a soft smile on your face. Something in his chest distorted a bit more.
_________________________
I woke in the late morning, semi remembering why I was at Ginny’s, then it all came flooding back. I didn’t even have to ask where Draco had gone because I knew he had gone. I knew he’d leave at the first chance he’d get.
Apologizing and thanking Ginny, I headed back home to shower and don clean clothes. Ginny gave me a worried look and said to call if I needed anything. I assured her I was fine and wasn’t going to have an emotional breakdown. Crying while I showered meant nothing.
I was fine.
Monday at work, Harry found me in the staff room fixing a cup of tea.
“You’re going to have to talk to him eventually,” Harry nudged my shoulder as we stood at the mini coffee bar, not even having to specify who he thought I should speak to.
“I’m not gonna follow him around like a lost puppy Harry, I’m done with that.” I shifted the weight on my feet. “He’s grown, he can handle himself,”
“Well I get that, but you can... act human at least. You’re shutting him out completely.” Harry pointed out. “And I don’t think either of you want that,”
“I wouldn’t know what he wanted,” I sighed in vain. “It’s not that easy Harry,” I pressed, cradling my mug in my hands. “I haven’t worried about him before, why should I now?”
“Because when he was drugged all he could do was ask for you and you dropped everything to make sure he was alright and slept in a chair for a night to keep an eye on him?” Harry raised an eyebrow.
“And maybe it was the drug and maybe I’m a decent person,” I refuted.
“All I’m saying I’ve been his work partner for a better half of five years and I’ve never seen him like this. He’s shutting everyone else out since the affair... everyone but you,” Harry’s green eyes reaffirmed his words.
I stared at my tea and didn’t say a word. I didn’t want to believe Harry’s words. I didn’t want to entertain the idea that maybe there was something left between Draco and I. But no matter how much I didn’t want to, I still thought about it all day during work, despite my best efforts.
How fitting it was that it was raining as I stepped onto the London street. Typical of London, no doubt, but it seemed as a sign all the same. Going to cast a shielding charm I froze when I saw in my peripheral pale skin and near white hair. I tried not to pay him any mind, but it seemed that whatever intentions I had were stopped by the words Harry had said earlier. My eyes wandered out to the city streets as rain started to fall slightly harder.
“Y/n?” Draco called my attention, his use of my name barely having any life in it.
“Yes?” I tore my attention away from the view.
“It’s raining,”
“Stellar observation,” I commented, remembering my shielding charm, creating an umbrella over me.
“Perhaps you would like to get out of it?” His voice was hesitant. “I suppose I do owe you for Friday night,”
That caught my attention and I finally turned to look at him. His was reserved, guarded. Yet there was something in his eyes that he couldn’t hide. A hope. A wish. A fantasy that I had written myself out of.
“You don’t owe me anything,” I finally whispered.
A sad sort of smile played at his lips. His eyes still didn’t leave mine as if we were transfixed on another, the stars wishing us to remain connected.
Screw the stars.
“Have a nice evening,” I ushered out before Apparating back home.
It was that night that I gave in. For the first time in almost ten years I gave in. There was a small fabric box tucked into my closet, collecting dust. Green and black with silver engravings. Tears streaming down my face, I sat on my bedroom floor and opened it.
It was every letter he wrote me. I should have burned them long ago, but I never did.
~
My Dearest, Y/n,
In the midst of this darkness, you are the only light I need. I’d face a world full of demons for the sake of you, my angel. I know it is dark now, and this path isn’t ideal, but I will fight for you, I will fight with you. Stand by my side my dearest angel. Be the fairytale maiden in this narrative and let me be your hero. I’ll never leave you, my love. And when morning light comes, I shall be in your arms again and my world will be complete.
Look after my heart, I’ve left it with you, 
Your Draco
~
My Beloved, Y/n,
Do you know what my paradise would be? You and me, away from it all. Free and able to love and live freely. Rainy days and warm cups of tea. Even without a fire to keep us warm, the warmth of your smile will keep me from freezing even on the coldest night. And though it may be nothing more than you reading a book or watching the sun rise, you’d be my goddess, the reason I existed, the one that I praised and prayed to each morning and evening. My paradise would be you and I, in a heaven of our own when I could worship you in every way, in every language known to man.
Your Draco
~
My Darling, Y/n,
How this summer grows longer with every day that passes. I wish that I weren’t away in Paris having to accompany my parents. I’d much rather be in your arms. And each night I watch the stars and the moon, knowing that you are doing the same. We are watching the same moon after all, no matter how far apart we are. That gives me more hope that you are true, and not a dream that I’ve let run wild.
And just as the night that I could not see the moon because of the clouds, I know that even now, though I do not see you, I know you are still there and that you still love me. You are my moon, my darling. You are my stars, my night sky. You hold every bit of majesty and wonder as they do.
I shall be back soon my love, 
Your Draco
~
Though the pile of unread letters was still tall, my vision was blurred by tears and heart wrenching sobs that broke from my chest. Hugging my knees and hiding my face in my arms, I wept. For the first time in years, I let myself mourn Draco Malfoy. For the love that I had for him. For the love that we shared. For the boy I knew in Hogwarts and for the man I resented. For the Draco Malfoy that called to me while drugged and inebriated. For the Draco Malfoy who had tried to make amends. For the Draco Malfoy I had turned down.
I mourned the girl in the mirror as well. For her broken jaded heart. For the years she spent alone and in denial. I mourned the girl who would still do anything for him if he’d only ask. I mourned the girl who was tired of trying to be strong on her own. I mourned the girl who craved companionship even though she was confident in herself.
I cried for the lovers in the letters. I held them close to my chest and cried. Tears dripped off of my cheeks and onto the faded aged parchment. Senseless words left my lips as I tried to rationalize these emotions. As I tried to make sense of this feeling—something that I had neglected for too long.
The hour was late as my fire burned lower and lower in my hearth. I sat curled up under a blanket on the floor with a mug of tea. Watching the flames, I let myself reminisce about the past. About Draco. About what could have been. A small smile lingered on my lips as gentle tears fell occasionally.
The rest of the week, I didn’t run into Draco. Not that I sought him out. Or that our departments ever crossed. Or that I cared.
I did however run into a former Malfoy in Diagon Alley a week after having to babysit Draco. 
“Astoria,” my voice was calm and gentle as rage lurked beneath.
“Y/n,” she seemed almost happy to see me as she came forward to hug me. My cold step back stopped her, her eyes finding my judgemental gaze. Her demeanor changed. 
“Of all the people I know, I thought you’d understand,” her voice was guarded and hurt.
“Thought I’d understand?” I nearly gasped, surprised at my anger towards her. “I know Draco like I know my own mind. I hope you’re happy because you’ll never find someone that trusting and kind again.” Our glares combatted another as tension grew between us.
“You walked out on him same as I did.” She accused. “Who do you think had to pick him up from that?” Her words were sharp as I took a breath in.
“I walked away because he had to marry you!” I snarled. “I’d never walk out on him if I had another choice!” We were starting to draw attention of passersby. I didn’t really care. “I chose his happiness over mine,”
“Oh really?” She didn’t seem convinced.
“I chose your happiness over mine, even.” I realized. “He had to get married. He had to marry rich. A pureblood. Someone his parents approved of. He desperately wanted their approval...” my voice fell as the memories came flooding back. “That made him happy back then, doing what he thought was right...”
“You should be thanking me then!” Astoria exasperated. “I gave him his happiness!”
“Are you serious?” I demanded. “You broke his heart! You left him with a child alone! You publicly humiliated him! In clearing your name from the Malfoy’s you’ve ruined his life! And you think he’s happy now!?”
“How about we ask him?” She countered; her gaze fixed on someone in the distance.
I whirled around, meeting curious jaded blue eyes as he strolled down the lane. 
“Draco,” The soft gasp left my lips.
“What’s the meaning of this?” His voice was calm despite the firmness it held as he addressed me, not Astoria.
“Nothing,” I answered softly. “It’s nothing,”
“Sure, defend his honor and call it nothing,” Astoria sneered.
“You don’t get to talk,” I snapped, turning back to her. “You’ve done enough.”
“Y/n,” Draco chided softly, taking a place beside me. “I can handle this,”
“Draco,” I argued, looking up at him only to be silenced by a steady pleasing gaze from his eyes.
“Astoria,” He finally greeted, and I could see his guard go up. There was a warning in his single word and something passed between them.
“Draco,” She nodded then turned to leave without another word. He went to leave as well, and I caught his arm.
“Draco, hang on,” I called.
As he faced me, a sadness lingered in his eyes. I wondered about Harry’s words and how he was shutting everyone out. Everyone but me.
“If that offer is still open...” I tested. “I’d love to get out of the rain with you,”
Calculations ran through his eyes and I could see each one. For a moment I thought my request was a lost cause. That he was about to turn me down as I turned him down not a few days ago. Our eyes locked and the stars seemed to draw us back together. Now... now I felt something different. Something new in my heart towards Draco. It wasn’t what it had been before, but something morphed, changed, unyielding.
“Alright,” He nodded with a sigh.
“If you don’t want to... you don’t owe me anything Draco,” I rushed out, taking a small step back.
“Publicly defending my honor might count for something,” He mused softly. “Shall we?”
“I think I mentioned tea,” A soft chuckle left my lips as we entered Florean Fortescue Ice Cream Parlor.
“This is a favorite of Scorpius’,” Draco murmured. “I’ve grown accustomed to it...” He paused. “You used to like it as well,” A small smirk lingered on his face. “Has that changed?”
“No,” I admitted, flushing a bit pink.
“Butter pecan, waffle cone?” He raised an eyebrow.
“Waffle bowl,” I amended. “I’m not a child,”
“Oh, I’m sure,” He let out a soft laugh and ordered for the two of us. He hadn’t changed either, he still chose mint chocolate chip in a sugar cone.
“So, where’s Scorpius, he’s not old enough for Hogwarts, is he?” I asked as we sat at a small table outside.
“Merlin, no,” Draco chuckled. “He’ll be six in January, and at the moment he’s with my mother. She watches him while I’m away at work,” He said in a matter-of-fact tone.
“How’s he doing with—um...” I asked timidly,
Draco’s smile sobered as his gaze dropped to the table to the used napkins that had gotten the stickiness off of our hands and left colorful wrappings from the cones.
“Or not,” I whispered. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked. It wasn’t my place,”
“Still the apologetic I see,” A sad sort of smile hit his lips. “And he’s taking it hard... harder than I am, I think. I knew she didn’t love me... I don’t think he ever understood it all...”
“I’m so sorry,” I offered.
He shot me an amused look.
“I mean it,” I insisted. “It’s not fair for either of you...” 
“Thank you,” Genuine gratitude held in his voice.
“Oi, Malfoy! Lunch ended twenty minutes ago!”
I heard a familiar voice and turned to see Harry walk into the small shop. As soon as Harry saw me sitting across from Draco, his demeanor changed and a grin grew on his face as if to say: ‘I told you so,’ but to which one of us I wasn’t sure.
“Hi Y/n,” Harry said cheerfully.
“Not a word, Potter,” Draco and I said simultaneously before catching the other’s gaze. Harry and I began to laugh, and I heard the gentle sound of Draco’s true laughter—something he rarely did, even when I knew him, but I cherished the sound all the same.
“I’m glad you two got to catch up, I am, but Draco, Mulligan has my arse because you’re missing,” Harry air-quoted the last word.
Sighing, Draco stood. “Y/n,” Was all he said as a goodbye before he and Harry set off.
I sat and stared at the empty space he left for a while, wondering what was going on between us. Was something going on between us? My heart said yes but my mind said no. I had forfeited the right to have anything with him. I walked away.
But still I wondered.
The next morning my phone kept chiming. Again, and again it wouldn’t stop with notifications and calls. I groaned and grabbed it off my beside table and squinted at it. A lot of the notifications were from friends and people I rarely talked too. One of them was from Ginny. I opened that one.
“How was your date?” It read and showed a picture of Draco and me at the ice cream parlor yesterday. We looked happy. The headline read:
Malfoy Moving On? Head Auror Caught with Old Classmate Sweetheart After Scandal
Then it dawned on me. This made the news. National news.
Scrolling through my phone, I found a number that I had but never called before. I had gotten it from Harry and Ginny long ago for emergences if Harry got injured on a case. I don’t think he knows I have it.
“Hello? Auror Malfoy,” A slightly tired voice answered, and it drew a smile on my lips before I remembered why I called.
“Draco,” I began, not knowing how to start this conversation.
“Y/n? How did you get my number?” In his weariness his tone was a lot harsher and blunt. His words stung.
“Harry gave it to me in case I needed it if something went wrong on one of your cases,” I explained softly. “I can delete it if you want... I was just wondering if you’ve seen this morning’s paper yet,”
“I have not,” He replied.
“Oh,” Anxiety grew in my chest. “Call me when you do?” I squeaked out. “Or don’t. Yeah, bye,” I quickly hung up and screamed at the ceiling, throwing my phone across the room. “Stupid Draco Malfoy!” I shouted at no one. Staring at the ceiling I wasn’t aware of how long I sat there.
Then my phone started ringing across the room. Of course, it was Draco.
“Hello?” I answered timidly.
“When can you be at the Manor? We need to talk,” Nothing scared me more than those four words.
“I—uh... half an hour?” I fumbled for words. “Draco—” The line disconnected. “Draco!” I yelled in frustration.
My body trembled as I got ready, knowing that that last time we had “talked” had ended our relationship and set us on different paths. I hoped to the stars that that wouldn’t happen again. I... I liked having Draco in my life. I wanted to be there for him, because according to Harry, I was the only one he would let in. Then there was the matter of whatever happened the night he was wasted and calling for me.
Taking the Floo network, I stepped into Malfoy Manor—a place I hadn’t been in over ten years. Draco was waiting for me in the grand foyer, appearing quite unkept, his hair a rumpled mess and his dress shirt still untucked, the tie hanging loosely around his neck.
“Hello,” I offered softly.
He hummed a greeting and motioned for me to follow him. I thought that I was going to throw up with the amount of anxiety bubbling in my stomach. I didn’t like this at all.
Leading me into the grand kitchen he nodded to the island bar where two mugs of tea had been set out. My heart panged as I looked at the warm liquid that held the right hue of creaminess and I wondered if Draco remembered how I took my tea after all this time.
“I’m having Mulligan and Granger take care of it,” was all he said as he took a careful sip of his tea, his gaze fixed upon the newspaper on the counter before us.
“Take care of it?” I pressed, frowning.
“The photos. The newspapers.” He filled in.
“No, I get that,” I almost rolled my eyes, “But why? It’s just gossip...” 
“Why?” Draco almost snapped. I looked to my tea ashamed. He took a breath. 
“Do you regret it? Yesterday?” I barely spoke.
“Why would I?” He acted if I were the insane one here, “We went out. We enjoyed each other’s company. It was fine.”
“Then why would you tell Mulligan to— “
“I didn’t.” He stopped me. “He told me he was doing it. He was supposed to have stopped it from ever happening.”
“You knew. You knew this was going to happen,”
“Yes, or something like it, and I tried to stop it. The press has been... unforgiving of my name and business as of late and I didn’t want to drag anyone else into it,”
I nodded and looked down till I heard him sigh.
“Especially not you,” He tacked on.
“What?” My sleep deprived brain was trying to catch up.
Draco pursed his lips and stared at the photo of us smiling at another on the front page.
“Correct me if I’m wrong, but I do believe that I have forfeited the right to ask anything of you or hope to include you into my life in any way,” Melancholy riddled his words and my heart fell as I yearned to reach out for him.
“So, you’ve been avoiding me?” I didn’t understand the frustration I felt. “I... You—God above Draco.” I hissed. “Why don’t you let my make that choice myself? I forfeited that right just as much as you did,”
“I don’t see how,”
“I walked away from you... I made that choice.” 
“But did you have a choice?” Draco countered softly.
I didn’t have a response for that. Not a good one that I could defend well. Sure, I could claim I did and that I made the choice... but back then, our hands were tied. There was fear and war and uncertainty, and perhaps I didn’t have a choice after all.
He spoke before I had the chance to form a sound argument.
“As you know work with Harry as well.”
“Yes,” I acknowledged.
“And that a week ago Friday was a bit of a disaster for the both of us,”
“Wouldn’t be one of my least favorite nights, but a disaster... sure.” I drawled, raising an eyebrow. He ignored my taunt and pressed on.
“Harry suggested that I take you out to make it up to you. Hence the invitation that one day and then our date yesterday,” His explanation made me pause.
“That was a date?” I asked, anxiety growing in my chest of where this could go.
“I mean... it fit all the perimeters of a date.” He was testing the waters as much as I was.
I let out a short laugh.
“I suppose it did,” I nodded to the paper in front of us.
“He also said that perhaps I shouldn’t have to be inebriated to figure out and express my emotions toward you—or anyone for that matter,” He tacked on, a mumbled mess.
“I... you—”
“You asked me why I would say something like what I said,” Draco gave, pressing on, not giving me a moment to process. “I doubt you remember it—you were half awake—but... No matter how much I’ve lost the right and privilege, I want you in my life, Y/n. Apart of it, if you’re willing,”
They talked about time freezing around you and how everything comes into focus. And that there are moments when all of the heartache and pain will one day count for something, and perhaps this was it. This was that moment. That point that I could make all of the pain and tears mean something beautiful. Something not quite new, but no longer old and forgotten.
“I... I want you in my life too,” I whispered the confession. “It’s... it’s really nice... to have you back,” My gaze dropped to the counter and the tea in my hands as guilt pierced through me.
“Can... can you ever forgive me? For all the hurt and pain I’ve caused you? Have I done too much that there’s no hope?”
“I... I never blamed you.” I admitted. “Or if I did, I don’t now. But Draco, we’re both different people now. I... I need your patience. Because as much as I want to say yes, I... I don’t know. I don’t know what hurts are going to come back up or what scars might reopen... If you’re willing to deal with that...”
“If you’re willing to deal with the rumors and gossip and stuffy life that I lead... I’ll wait a thousand lifetimes for you to be ready again,”
________________________
The kindness and forgiveness in your eyes brought him back. Way back. To the Yule Ball when you had been introduced to him. It was a dance of formalities and posture. He knew that you were a bit of a flirt, but after spending time with you, he could see that your bright over-friendly personality earned you such a reputation.
When Draco was younger, when he was at Hogwarts, when you were by his side, he thought he knew three things that would never change.
The first was that he was a Malfoy. He had to marry rich, marry whoever his parents picked out for him. There was no debate about that. It was the way things were. Keep the pureblood line going and the wealth in the family, if not expound upon it. He was the only son of his parents and it was his duty to carry the name on, carry it higher. He was a Malfoy.
The second was that as soon as he saw your face, that all changed. There was no one quite like you. He had never met anyone who matched him heart and mind and yet somehow you were kind and gentle at the same time. Your intelligent eyes that made him forget his name. He knew there would never be a day that he didn’t love you. That freedom you gave. He loved you.
And thirdly: he was betrothed to Astoria Greengrass.
That was about a decade ago. Now, only one of those things held true. Blinking away the memories and thoughts, he met your intelligent determined eyes once more. Everything came crashing down around him. The truth.
Draco didn’t have to marry rich. He had and the girl he married had an affair with another man and he was free from the obligation. He was no longer engaged to Astoria. He no longer had to entertain her listless petty stories or her frivolous shallow needs. He had a son. That kept the family name going, that kept the pureblood line alive.
But Draco still loved you.
And God damn him if he wouldn’t find every way to express that to you.
Maybe that was the reason behind his further actions. It was the reasoning behind why he reached out to you, stroking your face softly as he did long ago. He caressed your cheek as if it were precious marble, a sculpture given to him by the gods.
And for the first time in ten years, Draco didn’t have to fantasize what it would be like to kiss you again. He didn’t have to desperately cling to how your lips felt against his. He didn’t have to deny how much he missed you.
Frozen under his touch, Draco worried that perhaps this was something he should regret. That he should stop. That he should deny still.
But your hand came up slowly, not to push him away but to hold him close as he held you, cradling his face as if he were the most precious thing to you. Your fingers curled into his hair, causing the butterflies in his chest to set flight. Your soft sounds were met with his steady purrs.
His tongue danced with yours in a forgotten waltz. Even after all this time you still tasted the same: sweet, alluring, and faintly like chai.
But you pulled away all too soon for his liking.
“You’re gonna be the death of me one day, Malfoy,” A smile curled on your lips.
“‘Til death do we part,” He jested lightly, earning a slight giggle from you as you pulled away and rebalanced yourself on the barstool.
“So... are we doing this? Like actually doing this?” You asked, fear lurking in your voice.
“I will do everything I can to make this right. To do this properly. To give you what you deserve,” He couldn’t quite understand why you laughed this time.
“I know you love your rules and traditions, but Draco I don’t need any of that and I don’t want any of that. I just want you. To get to know you again. To get to know Scorpius. I want my friend back,”
The desperate plea in your voice mirrored in your eyes and maybe he understood you a bit better and maybe himself, because he wanted that as well. He wanted you in his life. Woven into it. And possibly the first step to having that, was to get to know you again.
So, he would wait. He would learn. And he would love you till his dying day. 
“That would be enough,” Draco smiled softly and took your hand into his.
A few months of dates and quiet nights and lunches together in the break room and the rumors in the papers seemed to fade and the shock value seemed to wane to others. But Draco was still amazed that you decided to stay by his side. That you let him back into your narrative. That you completely adored Scorpius more than his own mother ever did.
As you crouched beside Scorpius and a peacock on the Manor grounds as the three of you took an evening stroll, the smile you gave him made him believe that the past ten years were nothing but a terrible dream. A trial to prove that he had earned this reward.
Though you had asked for patience, it turned out that he needed some as well. Draco had no idea how deep seeded the betrayal from Astoria and his supposed best friend affected him. There were times that he grew angrier than he meant to. There were times he was harsher than he wanted to be. There were times he was more distant than he needed to be. There were times that he was more reckless than he should be.
And there were times when something lingered in your eyes that he didn’t quite enjoy. Fear, or hesitancy. There were new boundaries that you had, and he had learned to respect. You weren’t the same girl he knew at Hogwarts. You were independent, confident, self-made, but still kind and gentle. You didn’t depend on him for everything. You didn’t lean into every touch. You didn’t smile at every jest. His perspective of you changed, and he loved every change made.
A weekend when Scorpius had gone to his parent’s house in Paris for a weekend was the night that Draco truly felt alone for the first time in a long time—since you had been back in his life. As the hour grew later, he paced his study, debating on going to see you, knowing well you’d still be awake.
As the ghosts of his past came to life and overpowered your gentle voice in his mind, Draco was decided. Drawing his wand, he apparated straight to you.
“What in Merlin’s name!?” You demanded, wand drawn, looking frantic, only relaxing when you saw that it was him.
“I... couldn’t sleep. Everything is...” His voice was small, like a frightened child.
You lowered your wand as he stood in the doorway of your bedroom. Running a hand through your hair you sighed softly. He knew he was asking a lot—too much even. It had been a boundary of yours. You weren’t ready to sleep with him—innocently, not sensually—yet.
“Well, come on then,” You smiled softy, sliding over in your bed. “Just like old times,” His memory flickered back to the sleepless nights in the dorms at Hogwarts behind drawn drapes.
“This isn’t me trying—” Draco started, not wanting to push your boundary. He’d sleep on the couch for Merlin’s sake. He just wanted to be near someone who cared for him.
“I know,” You replied softly, reading him like an open book, as you were always able to. 
“And I don’t—”
You rose from your bed, going over to him.
“Still trust me?” You whispered, your hands running up his arms, earning a shudder from him.
Draco nodded; his gaze transfixed on you. He knew what the question meant. It had been a routine of yours at Hogwarts. When he couldn’t seem to get a grip on the day and came to you at night, you were always there to care for him.
And you were there now.
Slowly you unbuttoned his shirt, leaving it to the floor. Going over to your dresser, you pulled out one a shirt that he recognized as his and placed it in his hands. He gripped the fabric tightly.
“You kept this?” His eyebrow furrowed.
A shrug left your shoulders as you neared your dresser again, opening another drawer. “Cotton or fleece?” The question was soft.
“Cotton,”
“I have flannel?” You offered, pulling out a pair of plaid sweats.
“That’ll do,” Draco smiled as you handed him the pants; he gripped them tightly as well.
“You’re safe,” You encouraged, stroking his cheek. “No one’s going to hurt you. No one expects anything of you. You’re alright here... You’re with me,”
“You knew I was coming,” It wasn’t an accusation.
“Eventually, yes. You hate nights alone.” The warmth of your eyes was intoxicating. 
“I prefer it when you’re here,” He admitted.
“Then go change and we can get some sleep, yeah?”
That night had been quiet. It had taken some time, but eventually you laid in his arms, holding onto him as he held onto you. Silent tears fell for the both of you—of fear and acceptance and a new beginning. A step forward.
..........
Draco paced the floor, keeping a close watch to his temper as you arrived, looking confused and worried. And with the scarce information that he gave to you, it was well placed. Without a word—fearing that it might not be a kind one— he led you into the den, to where Scorpius was sitting on the couch, looking guilty and repentant.
“Scorpius,” Draco’s voice was concise and controlled. “Would you care to explain exactly what you told me to Miss Y/n?”
Some anger leaked through. A gentle hand on his shoulder reminded him to find calmness. A gentle smile on your face appeased and welcomed Scorpius as he began to speak.
“I... well... mother left. And papa had these letters... I found them and...I didn’t know who she was... but I thought—” the young boy stammered. “Father always has potions on hand down in his study... I thought that—if I just... he could be happy again,” Scorpius’ voice broke as he started to cry.
Your face crumpled softly, and Draco could see that you yearned to reach out to Scorpius and gather him into your arms but you refrained.
“So, you’re the one who drugged Draco,” You understood his son’s words, not nearly as upset as Draco had been because something else held your attention. “You kept my letters?” You seemed baffled. “All this time?”
Draco scoffed and his face remained stoic, but his cheeks tinged pink, affirming what you had said. And possibly it was the right thing to call you over to deal with this because with calmness and kindness that he never could find, you reprimanded Scorpius.
“Do you understand how dangerous that was?” You scolded. “Potions are not something to be played with or mixed. You could have really hurt your father.”
“I know,” Scorpius cried out, tears falling. “But—he... I thought I could get some answers. Find out who he loved—”
Your eyes met his with wonder and curiosity. There was no escaping that one. Draco wasn’t sure he wanted to avoid it.
“Okay,” Draco pinched the bridge of his nose, his face folded into a pained expression. “We’ll talk about this later young man, now go start your studies.”
“Yes sir,” Scorpius nodded and disappeared into the house.
“Draco don’t be hard on him,” You pleaded, reaching out to him. “He’s just a kid,”
“I know,” Draco sighed, taking your hands. “That’s why I called you. I knew you’d handle it better than I ever could.”
“I’m not his mother, Draco,” You reminded him softly. “I don’t have authority here,”
Draco held his tongue before he really did ask you to be Scorpius’ mother but Merlin he wanted to. And maybe you could see that in his eyes because you looked down, flushing.
“He does seem truly sorry,” You changed the topic quickly before something was confessed after all.
“I think so,” Draco looked to the door from Scorpius had exited. Sighing softly, a hopeless chuckle left his lips. “As livid I am that he got into my stuff, and that I was drugged by a six- year-old, it brought me back to you,”
“I suppose it did,” You smiled. “As long as he promises to keep from your stuff, and to come to talk to you instead of taking matters into his own hands... I don’t see any harm.”
Draco nodded and pulled you into his arms, finding comfort in your solace and steady compassion.
“So...” You drawled, pulling away from him. “You kept my letters?” A mischievous smirk fell upon your face as you raised an eyebrow at him.
“Yes,” He admitted, defeated. “I know, I know. It’s wrong and—” You burst out laughing, causing him to pause.
“I kept yours too,” Beaming at him, you reached up and stroked his cheek. “Granted I didn’t read them until again the day we got caught in the rain...”
Draco chuckled softly and drew you in for a kiss, marveled that you were even standing in front of him.
______________________________
There was a day that Draco did ask me. Another four words that made my heart soar and want to scream from the rooftops that he was truly mine. It had taken some time, make no mistake. It was redefining what it meant to be married and figuring out what it meant to marry for love and not advantage, but we made it. There was love, patience, and a strong foundation.
“Ginny, I can’t do this,” I whispered, tearing my eyes away from the mirror. “I... I’m not a wife... I—”
“Hush,” She ordered and fixed a hair that was out of place. “You’re the perfect one for him,” 
“But... me? Getting married? I can’t.”
“You love him, don’t you?” She tested, and I nodded, not trusting my voice. “And you can’t see a day without him in your future?” I nodded again, fighting back tears.
Ginny’s face softened. “I know,” She took my hand. “It’s a lot and it’s scary sometimes, but you deserve this. You deserve a happily ever after with a man who is willing to do what it takes to give it to you,”
I looked down at the floral lace of my dress, blinking away the moisture in my eyes. 
“Maybe you’re right...” I murmured.
“Of course, I am,” She smiled and picked up my bouquet, offering it to me.
Cannon in D began, and the door opened. My veil hid the water in my eyes and the fear on my face. Fears that faded when I saw him at the end of the aisle. He looked just as nervous as I did. It made me smile. It was so like him to be nervous about this. I almost laughed.
I took Harry’s elbow and inhaled deeply.
“You look beautiful,” He murmured.
“Thank you,” I mumbled back as we made our way down the aisle.
Harry placed my hand into Draco’s, and I felt secure. I felt safe and sure of my future. My eyes darted to Scorpius who I had seen grown up the past couple of years. He waved to me and I giggled before turning back to Draco.
There were tears in his eyes as he beamed down at me, our vows exchanged, and rings placed. 
“Don’t you cry,” I scolded quietly. “Because then I’ll start crying,”
“I’ve waited so long for this day,” He defended. “I’m allowed to cry,”
I laughed as my husband leaned down and pressed his lips to mine, sealing our promise to each other.
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masterlist
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more like this:
beautifully beastly
together in paris
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An Unfortunate Predicament - Part 2
I was overwhelmed by the sheer number of likes on my last post, and so I was inspired to continue yesterday's fic and write a part 2... The ideas flow while I'm writing the lead-in portion, and then I get to the tickling part and my brain goes ----does not compute---- and short circuits, so... hopefully this turned out ok!
Part one is here
Word count: 2300
* * *
You weren’t sure if he actually expected that you would willingly come down to greet the Avengers when they arrived home that evening, just so that you could keep your end of the deal. Regardless, you weren’t dumb enough to come out of your room when you finally heard the commotion that was your teammates entering the tower (mostly because Thor’s boisterous voice echoed in every corner of the building.) Just to be on the safe side, you remained in your room for the rest of the evening, scrolling through your phone and watching some TV to keep yourself entertained.
The following morning, you awoke to your stomach growling so loudly you thought Wanda could probably hear it through the wall in her room next door. Having hidden away for the entire evening, you realized you hadn’t eaten an actual meal last night, having only munched on some chips you had stashed away in your desk for when you got hungry while you worked. Reluctantly, you knew you would have to actually exit your room if you wanted to get some breakfast.
Besides – he must have forgotten by now, right?
… Of course not, you remembered. Loki doesn’t forget when someone crossed him, and he certainly didn’t forgive either.
Despite your knowing it was probably a very bad idea, you slipped on your softest pair of socks in hopes they would help muffle your footsteps before pressing your ear to the door, trying to hear whether there was anyone talking or shuffling about outside. Satisfied when you were met only with silence, you gradually cracked the door open and peeking cautiously out into the hallway.
Empty. Perfect.
As quickly as you could while still ensuring your every step was soundless, you tiptoed your way to the kitchen down the hall, pausing at the doorway to listen for any signs of movement. Nothing. Perfect. You leaned forward and peeked around the door frame, your weight shifted to the balls of your feet in case you needed to make a quick exit. Your eyes scanned the room from corner to corner, even glancing under the table and at the cabinet doors to assess for anything that might indicate someone was hiding in there.
Ok, so maybe you were a little paranoid.
Seeing nothing out of place, no cabinet doors cracked ajar or anything, you let out a breath and stepped into the room. You reached the fridge and opened the door slowly so as not to allow it to make that suction noise it always did. Someone had stolen the last yogurt cup apparently. Slightly annoyed, you scanned the fridge trying to decide what you wanted instead. You settled on a bowl of cereal, grabbing the bottle of milk and turning around to get the cereal box out of the cabinet.
“Eep!”
Heart leaping into your throat, you let out a sound that was somewhere between a scream and a squeak when you found yourself face to face with none other than the god of mischief himself, his face mere inches away from yours. In your shock, your fingers slipped from around the handle of the milk bottle. It would have exploded all over the floor had Loki not reached out and caught it with his cat-like reflexes before it hit the ground. He leaned toward you to place the milk bottle on the counter directly behind you, boxing you in with your back against the countertop.
“You didn’t show up to the common room last night.” He had a deep, menacing edge to his tone as he made this simple observation, his narrowed eyes and wide smirk only reinforcing the fact that you were in deep trouble.
Fight or flight instinct took over, and you rapidly ducked under his arm and started to sprint away from the trickster. Unfortunately, he had predicted this move, his hand latching onto your upper arm before you could even take two steps.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
“Ahah… well, you see, I have a really important assignment I have to get done, and I just came down here to grab some breakfast to take back to my room while I work, and…”
“Do you really expect me to believe that?” he chuckled.
“… yes?” you replied, your voice increasing an octave with nervousness. Loki shook his head, giving you a pitying look.
“Darling, I am the god of lies and mischief. I know a lie when I hear one.” You tried to jerk your arm abruptly out of his grasp in hopes it would catch him off guard, but he merely tightened his grip on your bicep. “I do believe we have some unfinished business, if I’m not mistaken.”
“Really? Because I thought we were done with that, actually…” you stammered, frantically scanning the room for some way to escape. Your eyes darted back to Loki, catching his gaze as he realized what you were doing.
“Sorry, but there’s no way out of this,” he declared. In one fluid motion, Loki had scooped you up off the floor into his arms, holding fast despite your kicking and squirming. You hadn’t realized you could become any more flustered around the god, but he had proven you wrong just now, your face burning hot. He started to make his way out of the kitchen, careful not to slam your head into the doorframe as he carried you out into the hallway.
“Loki! Put me down this instant!” you demanded, kicking your legs to try to throw him off balance.
“Hmm… no, actually, I don’t think I will,” he teased, tossing you up just the slightest bit so he could gain a better grip on you.
“Where are you taking me, then?” you growled. You could hear faintly the voices of the other Avengers in the common area, growing slightly louder as Loki continued to stroll along with you still captive in his grasp. “Really? You’re still going to make me announce that you’re ‘the superior prankster’ to the team? Don’t you think that’s sort of lame?”
“No, darling. I have more effective methods of humiliating you.” His eyes flitted down to glance at your face, his smirk expanding across his.
Was it possible to die from blushing so hard?
When Loki had finally reached the opening to the common room, the rest of the team glanced up at the two of you with immediate expressions of confusion.
“Good morning, lady Y/N! Why is my brother carrying you? Are you injured?” Thor asked, genuinely concerned.
“No! He’s holding me prisoner! Help!” you cried, starting to squirm again to try to get him to put you down. Tired of having to keep hiking you up to keep from dropping you, Loki finally lowered your legs so you could plant your feet on the floor. He wrapped an arm around you tightly, pinning you to his side so you couldn’t run off.
“Is that true, Loki?” Thor inquired, squinting at him.
“I just thought you’d like her to be here when I inform you all that I found her on the ropes course yesterday,” Loki announced. To your confusion, the entire team let out groans of frustration.
“What the hell?! We’ve been trying to decide who was going to make you try it with all of us! You never wanted to join in!” Peter complained. You raised your eyebrows in shock.
“Wait, what? Why are we changing the subject, here?? Do none of you care that he is holding me captive??” you protested.
“Sorry, Y/N, but this is unforgivable,” Tony sighed with mock disappointment, shooting you a mischievous wink. “The ropes course is a team-building activity. There’s no ‘I’ in team.”
“But… what… ugh. You guys are unbelievable,” you groaned, shaking your head.
“Don’t worry – that’s not all I learned about our devious little mortal yesterday,” Loki began. You immediately tensed up, heart pounding impossibly faster, although you weren’t sure if it was because of what you knew was coming next or because you were mortified to find you actually liked the unusual pet name he just used to refer to you.
“Oh really? Do tell,” Bucky urged, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees in anticipation.
“You see…” Loki reached over and grasped your wrists, yanking your arms behind your back so he could hold both wrists with just one hand. You looked up at him and bit your lip, shaking your head rapidly in desperate, silent protest. He merely grinned, wiggling the fingers of his free hand in the air at you to taunt you even further. You had to fight to keep yourself from allowing anticipatory giggles to slip out. “… our little friend, here, is devastatingly ticklish.”
Without further ado, Loki’s hand darted down to your side, squeezing rapidly as laughter immediately began pouring from your mouth. You twisted your upper body in hopes you could break his hold, but you quickly realized there was no escaping the vice grip he had on your wrists. Defeated, and weakened from laughter, your knees buckled, and you slowly sank to the floor. Loki only followed you down, finally letting go of your wrists in favor of freeing his other hand up to torment you. He moved his hands to your belly, scratching at it in the most maddeningly light and rapid way, eliciting a shriek from you.
“Oh, no way! She really is ticklish!” Peter exclaimed over your laughter.
“Damn. She’s worse than this kid,” Tony observed, patting Peter on the shoulder as he blushed and glared at his mentor.
“WHY AREN’T YOU HELPING MEHEHE!” you shouted, throwing your friends a betrayed look.
“Sorry, Y/N, but you’re just too damn adorable to make him stop,” Bucky apologized, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
Meanwhile, Loki had pressed one of his shins down on both your legs, leaning on you to hold you down as his fingers traveled up to your sides. He drilled his thumbs into the front of your lowermost ribs, digging his fingers into the sides of your ribcage simultaneously. You supposed you should have known that someone with his mischievous title would be good at tickling, but the way his fingertips sought out every single one of your weak spots was causing you to slowly slip into madness.
“Why don’t you try her knees?” Wanda suggested with a smirk.
“Wanda!! Why are you helping hiHIHIHIM!” your voice pitched up an octave as Loki began to pinch the soft skin just above your kneecap, sending ticklish shocks up your leg.
“Thank you for the suggestion,” Loki said casually, removing his shin from your legs so he could reach around and flutter his fingers against the backs of your knees. Without his weight on you, you were free to kick your legs and squirm to try to escape. If you accidentally kicked Loki in the process, well, that was just an added bonus. At least, you thought so, until he wrapped his fingers around one of your ankles and dragged a finger down the sole of your socked foot to test your reaction.
“NOHOHO LOKI STAHAHAP!” you pleaded, jerking your leg wildly without success. Loki shot you a positively evil smile before lightly scratching five fingers up and down the bottom of your foot. You covered your face with your hands to hide the fact that you had never felt shyer and more embarrassed in your life, muffling your laughter behind your palms.
“Aww, lady Y/N, there’s no need to hide!” Thor insisted, kneeling down beside you and pulling your hands off your face.
“Ah, brother! Why don’t you help me hold her down? She is making this increasingly difficult,” Loki suggested, moving back up to torment your ribs again.
“Certainly, brother!” Thor obliged, tightening his grip on your wrists, and pinning them above your head. You shot him the biggest glare you could possibly muster in your frazzled state.
“THOR! That’s BETRAYAL!” you exclaimed. “What the h-“ Loki started to scribble his fingers into the soft skin under your arms and the remainder of your sentence died in your mouth, your body shaking in silent laughter. At long last, Loki finally took this as his cue to let up, tracing feather-light fingers along your sides to keep you giggling.
“What an unfortunate weakness you have. So easy to exploit,” he teased. Your blush spread down to your neck and up to the tips of your ears. Luckily, Thor let go of your wrists so you could cover your face again, doing anything in your power not to see the arrogant look of victory on Loki’s face.
“Whyhyhy Loki?” you groaned as he finally stopped torturing you. You immediately rolled onto your side and curled up in a ball, rubbing the residual ticklish tingles off your sides.
“Well, darling, I had to make a statement… Don’t mess with the god of mischief,” he warned, referring back to the prank you’d pulled when you hid his books.
“U-understood,” you acknowledged firmly, your breathing finally returning to normal.
“Well – that was the most adorable thing I’ve ever seen. My day is made,” Tony teased, reaching down to pat you on the shoulder and causing you to flinch away involuntarily. “Relax, kid! You clearly need a break, I’m not that mean!”
“Sorry… reflex,” you mumbled. Loki stood and offered you a hand to help you up off the floor, which you took after a moment’s hesitation. “You… better not do that again, or I’ll… I’ll… punch you.”
“Really, darling? That was the weakest threat you’ve ever made,” he snickered. "Clearly you're losing your touch." Throwing your hands up in frustration, you turned around to walk back to your room, suddenly realizing you were still in your pajamas. “And I can’t make any guarantees,” he called after you, “so you’d better behave yourself!” You turned around and stuck your tongue out at him, eliciting a laugh, before you turned down the hallway and made your way to your bedroom door.
Note to self, you thought – Loki doesn’t do mercy.
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youbloodymadgenius · 4 years ago
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Nothing Left (Ivar x reader)
A/N: This is my entry to @geekandbooknerd 2k Writing Challenge. Congratulations again, Hayley, you deserve each and every one of us 🌻
The gif is a dead giveaway: this piece is an angsty one 😬 Sorry about that but I feel like I can’t write fluff all the time 😉
Prompt in bold
Thanks to @zuxiezendler for beta reading this for me (hope you don't mind Hayley, but since it was for your challenge... 😉)
Let me know if you want to be tagged 😊
Summary: Leaving Ivar is not an easy task.
Warnings: angst; Ivar's temper; physical assault (no harm done, though); Freydis is beautiful; no happy ending (you've been warned).
Words: 2089
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Crutch – right foot – left foot – crutch – right foot – left foot
You can hear him coming. Of course, you can.
"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" He's not yet in your shared bedroom and he's already shouting. Instead of turning around, you grab the little carved wooden wolf he gifted you many years ago and put it in your pouch.
As he stabs the wooden floor with his crutch, you can physically feel his anger. "You thought you could sneak out? Uh?" You know his jaw is clenched, and he's probably shaking with rage.
"This is what you intended to do, admit it!"
You just scoff. No, you didn't intend to sneak out, not in your wildest dreams. Not with White Hair's men everywhere, night and day.
A thump – his fist hitting the table, you'd say – and then a roar.
"ANSWER YOUR KING!!!!!"
Glancing over your shoulder, you give him a tired, defeated smile. You don't want to fight. You never wanted to. "What does it look like to you, Ivar? Do you really think I'm trying to sneak out? Of course, I'm not."
"Rumors are false, that's what you're saying?" He snorts and, taking two more steps into the room, he joins you. "What's that, then?" He gestures angrily toward a wooden trunk, filled to the brim with your belongings, mostly dresses and a few jewels.
"I'm leaving, if that's what rumors say, Ivar, I'm just not sneaking out." You speak softly while closing the trunk.
A wide-eyed look on his face, he can't hide his surprise at your easy admission but he quickly pulls himself together, straightening up and towering over you.
"You can't. I forbid you." Giving you an intimidating look, he grits his teeth.
You barely shake your head. There's so much sadness in your heart. "Of course, I can. I'm not asking for permission, you know? I'm leaving, whether you like it or not."
That's when he explodes, his bottom lip quivering. "I SAID, I FORBID YOU! FOR ONCE IN YOUR LIFE, YOU WILL DO AS YOU'RE TOLD, Y/N! I. AM. YOUR. KING!"
His scream is so loud that you can't help but take a step back. But you don't lower your gaze. You won't. You can't. So, keeping your chin up, you inhale slowly. "And I'm still a free woman, Ivar. I'm leaving today."
You know the man you once loved is not going to make that so easy for you. So, you're not surprised when he grabs your wrist so firmly you can't shake him off. Tossing his crutch on the floor, he places his now free hand on your shoulder. Looking at him, you can tell you've rarely seen him this angry. Never releasing the pressure on your wrist, he throws you against the nearest wall so hard that the back of your skull makes a resounding "clunk".
He leans in close to you, his breath stinking faintly of honeyed mead, and presses the weight of his body against you. "You're not leaving, Y/N." He then moves his hand from your shoulder to your throat and the air is immediately stolen from you as you stare into his now darkened eyes. With your right hand still pinned to the wall, you only have your left to defend yourself. You're slapping him, clawing at him, but you may as well be tickling him with a feather – your scratches and punches have no effect on him whatsoever.
"I could kill you, Y/N. Maybe I should." The threat is clear, obvious, but Ivar loosens his grip just enough for you to breathe. He won't harm you. Not yet anyway.
Clearing your throat, you don't look away. "Maybe you should. It wouldn't be the worst thing for me, you know? One way or another, I wouldn't be here anymore."
Your words sting, you can see it on his face as he steps away, wobbling and dumbstruck.
Slowly leaning forward, you grab his discarded crutch before giving it back to him. "Here." You mutter before taking a seat on the bed. Ivar follows suit, flopping down next to you.
Blinking several times, Ivar is obviously trying to come to terms with what you just said. "So, you'd rather be dead than here? With me?" His voice is shaking and he fidgets with his fingers on his lap.
"Ivar, there's nothing left here for me… Nothing… We just don't understand each other anymore, you know that. I don't understand you anymore, Ivar. Since Wessex, you've changed so much…"
You've tried. You've tried very hard. But this man, this king, is no longer the man you fell in love with.
"It's about Sigurd, isn't it?" Ivar asks sadly, but you immediately shake your head.
"No Ivar, you know it's not. I told you, even though I wish you hadn't killed him, I understand why you did it. And I know you didn't want to."
"It's about my legs, then." His face suddenly hardens but you know him, he always hides his pain behind anger. "I knew it. I knew this day would come. You're tired of the cripple, admit it."
Without thinking, you grab his hand, entwining his fingers with yours. As much as you resent him for what he has become, you can't let him run himself down like this. " It has nothing to do with your legs. Your legs have never bothered me, and they never will. You're stronger than all other men, not in spite of your legs, but because of them. Actually, you're the strongest man I know, and I've always felt proud to walk beside you, or to be your woman. I forbid you to doubt it."
"Why, then?" Ivar is so soft now, seems to be so… broken, you have to remind yourself why you're leaving. You have to remind yourself of the horror.
Closing your eyes, you conjure up frightful images behind your eyelids.
"You killed Margrethe, Ivar. You didn't have to do that."
He tenses beside you, releasing his hand from your grip. "She was talking rubbish all the time, she was spreading rumors about me, you know that!!"
"She was insane, Ivar! She was no danger, neither to you nor to anyone. And as for the rumors, I'm loud enough for people to know that you can pleasure a woman. She was harmless, and you killed her, and that, Ivar, I can't understand. And then, you did worse. You killed Thora." You can't help but wince, the stench of burning flesh still so vivid in your mind, you'd swear it's real.
Fuming, Ivar points an accusing finger at you. "She defaced my image. She was plotting behind my back. She was conspiring, criticizing me. She saw me as a tyrant while I was just trying to rule well. She was a FUCKING DANGER!"
Startled by his shout, you stand up hastily. "You burned her alive, Ivar!! You burned her entire family. Asbjorn, her brother, had not yet seen his tenth spring. And you killed him!" You know he can see the disgust on your face, and the truth is, you don't care. He deserves your disgust. He deserves your contempt. He deserves you falling out of love with him. "Thora was your brother's lover and she was my friend and you burned her alive!!! How could you?" Your hands tangled in your hair, you shake your head, still barely able to process the horror of what he did.
"And what was I supposed to do, huh?" Ivar seems unshaken, and it strengthens your resolve. He doesn't know between good and evil, not anymore. You want to reply that he could have exiled her, or had her thrown in jail, but to what end? What's done is done, and your former lover is a monster now.
"It doesn't matter, Ivar… What matters is that you're like a stranger. I don't know who you are anymore. Since this girl, you've changed." You shrug, blinking back tears.
Ivar rolls his eyes. "So that's what it was all about? I can't believe you're jealous, Y/N. This girl… It's just a... thrall"
Oh gods! There's none so deaf as those that will not hear, right?
"I'm not jealous, Ivar. She was naked on your lap, but I'm not jealous. Or maybe I was, but it doesn't matter anymore. And I don't give a damn about what or who she is. But she was whispering nonsense in your ear, and since then you've changed. I don't recognize you anymore. You're no longer the man I loved, Ivar..." Your words are genuine, your heart full of sorrow.
Still sitting on the bed, Ivar tilts his head. "You... You can't leave me, Y/N. What... What will I do without you?" His quivering voice sends shivers down your spine. But you won't change your mind. This man in front of you, unsure and insecure, is nothing but a ghost of who he once was. The boy you loved is gone. Dead. Killed by his inner demons.
Swallowing, Ivar slowly stands up, and frowns when you step back. "Y/N," he speaks again, reaching out but to no avail as you stubbornly put your hands on your back, "you're the person I don't need to explain myself to – not when it matters. You see everything I am and you don't run away from it. I... I can't do without you."
Your eyes filling with tears, you shake your head. "I can't be this person anymore, Ivar. I've tried, but I can't. I don't know you at all anymore. You've become the monster that people thought you were. You're paranoid, and narcissistic, and self-centered. You're cruel, and mean, and fearsome. I won't lie, sometimes I still see a shadow of the man – the boy – you used to be. But most of the time, what I see in your eyes is something scary and unfamiliar. I have said it before and I will say it again. I don't recognize you anymore, Ivar. I don't know who you are. You've done terrible things, which I cannot and will not forget and forgive. That's why I'm leaving." Pointing to the trunk, you bite the inside of cheek until it bleeds. "I'll send someone to get it later."
Heading out, you don't wait for his answer. There's nothing he can say that is going to change your mind.
Yet, you stop in your tracks when he calls your name, "Y/N!" his voice sounding like a wounded animal. Slowly turning around, you can see a single tear running down his face. "Please..." He begs and it kills you, because Ivar the Boneless doesn’t beg; never begs. For a fleeting moment, your resolve falters. Maybe you can still save your love. Maybe you can bring back the man he was. Maybe it's not too late. Maybe...
And then, a shadow slips between the heavy doors of the great hall and you recognize the thrall. She's undoubtedly beautiful. Stunning. Gorgeous. Flawless.
Without even according you a glance, she walks with a confident stride and as soon as Ivar sees her, you can tell you cease to exist for him. Enthralled, he watches her every step, a sparkle dancing in his eyes.
Tears flow on your cheeks, but it doesn't matter. You were right.
This is the end.
It's like torture but you can't bring yourself to walk away. So, you watch. You see Ivar closing the gap between them, inviting her to sit down, pouring mead into a cup and handing it to her. "How are you? I've been thinking about you." You feel like you're going to throw up as you see the smile on his lips; as you realize how easily he forgot about you.
His next question nearly kills you. "Are you married?"
You can't believe your ears. You can't stay here anymore. You can't breathe.
You don't want to hear her answer. You know what she will say. And at this moment, deep down inside, you know he will marry her. Of course, he will. He will marry her because she will always be willing to whisper in his ear what he wants to hear.
A blond woman, attractive and seemingly submissive – you know better, but Ivar doesn't –swaying her hips... That's all it takes for Ivar to forget you.
You. Can't. Breathe.
You won't die here from a shattered heart, though. Your pride won't allow it. So, stumbling, your head spinning, you walk away, your fist in your mouth to keep you from screaming.
You were right. There's nothing left.
Nothing.
🛡⚔️🛡
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morganaspendragonss · 3 years ago
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so so many thanks to everyone who read even one of these stories. i am forever grateful for all the support i've received; every comment, every kudos, every reblog, every like - they all mean so much. i'm overwhelmed, honestly, but in the very best way. ily all 🥰
day one: against all odds (we're still here) for @trkstrnd
Carlos will hate himself for it later, but he’s so focused on his task that the screech of tires coming around the corner barely registers as a blip on his radar. He doesn’t notice anything until TK suddenly barrels into him, throwing Carlos to the side just before something else, something heavy, crashes into them with a blinding flash of pain, and then—
Nothing.
*
a simple trip to the grocery store quickly turns to disaster for tk and carlos
day two: out, damned spot for anon
TK wakes up gasping, choking on air. The sheets are suffocating him and, when he tries to free himself, they only seem to get tighter. The hands reaching out for him, trying to calm him, are the final straw; TK throws himself from bed and sprints to the bathroom, slamming and locking the door behind him as he collapses against the sink.
On some level, he is aware that the hands were Carlos’s, that the sheets were theirs, that his hands are clean, and that the dream was just a dream.
But they weren't always that way.
day three: the meetings for those in my wake for @freddieholic
For years after the divorce, Gwyn came to learn that any call from Owen was almost certainly bad news, and almost always about their son. Things have been better in the three years since her time in Texas, which is why she thinks nothing of it when he calls just after she’s put Isaac to bed for the night.
“Owen, hey,” she greets. “What’s up?”
The silence she’s answered with is the first sign that something’s wrong.
The sob that follows is the second.
“Gwyn, it’s TK. He's... They think we should say goodbye."
day four: a friend in me for 📍 anon
Carlos has come to see Nancy as a force of nature, a woman who will let nothing and no-one stand in her way, whether that’s out on the field or during a game of Monopoly. But, right now, as she sits hunched over in one of the interrogation rooms, shock blanket around her shoulders, he's never seen her look so small.
or
the story of how nancy and carlos become the new champions of 126 games nights
day five: truth is heavier than fiction for anon
Carlos pauses with his hand on the doorknob, taking a moment to prepare himself before going inside. TK’s shift finished an hour ago and he’d texted to let Carlos know he was home, which means Carlos is going to be walking right into a conversation he’d rather avoid.
Not that he’d have much choice either way; he might be able to cover his cracked and bruised ribs for a little while, but the arm in a sling will tell on him as soon as the door opens. Carlos doesn’t want to hide his injuries—they’ve had enough conversations in reverse on that theme to make him a hypocrite if he did—but he may have made some choices that he doesn’t particularly want to go into right now. Not while he’s tired and aching and just wants to cuddle with his boyfriend.
He blows out a breath, then opens the door, bracing himself for TK’s reaction.
“Hey— Shit!”
day six: slowly, and then all at once for @pragmaticoptimist34
The realisation that he loves Carlos hits him like a bolt out of the blue.
And at the worst possible moment.
We are getting updates on the active shooter situation at the Four Seasons Hotel. Austin Police Department have closed off the area and officers are currently preparing to enter the building to detain the suspect. It is as yet unknown if there have been any civilian casualties, but—
“Paul, turn the damn TV back on.”
“No.”
*
five times tk can't admit his feelings about carlos, and one time he finally does
day seven: the promise of tomorrow for anon
Up until five minutes ago, Carlos had been terrified of never having TK in his arms again. Now, the thought of letting him go scares him just as much, and TK seems to feel the same, if the way he’s clutching at Carlos’s jacket and pulling it tight across his back is any indication.
Carlos hugs him close, sinking down to his knees as TK falls into the chair behind him, letting the rest of the room fade away to nothing as he realises that they weren’t too late—that TK is here, with him, alive and mostly whole.
day eight: we'll hold each other soon for @221bsunsettowers
“Be careful, please,” TK said, smoothing down the lapels of Carlos’s shirt. “Whatever happens out there, whatever you have to do, just promise me one thing. Promise you’ll come back to me.”
Carlos knew better than to promise something like that, and TK knew better than to ask it. But because it was him, and because it was TK, Carlos just nodded and leaned in to press a kiss to TK’s temple.
“I promise,” he whispered, pulling away.
It's the last good memory Carlos has, and he's going to hold onto it for as long as he has left. If he's going to die, then the last thing he wants to see is TK's smile.
day nine: now i am just but the wayward man for anon
Ben is glaring at him again.
Klaus is very familiar with this specific glare—it’s the one Ben breaks out when Klaus is being ‘stubborn’ and ‘stupid’ and ‘a fucking asshole junkie with no self-respect who only cares about the next high and, really, it’s a fucking miracle you haven’t gotten yourself killed yet, Klaus’.
He has to hand it to him. Ben really does have him down to a tee.
*
winter is approaching and klaus has nowhere to go. his siblings are his only option—meaning he effectively has no options.
day ten: i can't imagine my life without you for 📍 anon
It had come completely out of left field—one minute everything was fine, the next Carlos had turned to him with guarded eyes and a clenched jaw, and said six words that sent TK’s whole world crashing down.
“I think we need a break.”
*
nobody likes to be asked 'trouble in paradise?', particularly when the answer is yes.
day eleven: start again from the beginning for anon
Owen trusts his son. He’s watched TK fight his addiction and stay sober for the last six years, and he has faith that he can handle himself.
But when TK doesn’t show up for work the night after proposing to Alex, Owen knows that something is wrong. After all, they've been here before.
day twelve: let me love you when your heart is tired for anon
TK knows it’s going to be a bad day from the moment he opens his eyes. Slowly, slowly, each twitch like he’s moving mountains, he inches his hand blindly across the bed to reach out for Carlos. If he can just feel his boyfriend, if he can just see him—
But, of course. Carlos has a shift today. TK has a vague recollection of him getting out of bed at five this morning, rousing him with a shift to the mattress and a gentle kiss on the forehead.
If this were a normal day, he might smile at the memory.
day thirteen: couldn't utter my love when it counted for 📍 anon
TK takes his time in the bathroom, stopping to stare at his reflection in the mirror for several minutes and trying to talk himself down from any more-than-friendly feelings towards Carlos.
Later, they’ll tell him that this saved his life.
But that won’t be for a long time, until after the smoke has cleared and the dead have been counted and the statements have been taken. For now, TK steels his resolve and nods at himself, then turns to the door, a hand reaching out for the handle.
That’s when the explosion rips through the building.
*
after the boba date, tk lets carlos go. they're friends, which is working just fine, until a horrific accident threatens to take even that away from them.
day fourteen: if i walk out the door (a thousand eyes) for anon
TK gets this feeling sometimes, a sort of prickling at his back, like someone’s behind him, breathing down his neck. At first, it was only a once-in-a-while situation, so he thinks nothing of it; when it becomes an everyday occurrence, he starts to wonder, but he’s probably just being paranoid. The shooting, kidnapping, firehouse explosion, and the fire at his and Carlos’s house had all taken their toll, and TK’s just generally more on edge these days.
He doesn’t tell anyone about the feeling, not even Carlos. There’s no reason to fuck up everyone else’s peace with something so stupid. It’ll go away eventually; TK’s sure of it.
That is, until one of the lots just down from the firehouse gets occupied.
day fifteen: find you here inside the dark for @fanfic-corner
Yaz has walked this room too many times to count now; she’s traced her fingertips over the walls, searching for any cracks or crevices to indicate where there might be a door.
If the Doctor were here, she’d have her sonic out by now, spitting out words, only half of which Yaz could understand. She’d find a way out in no time. Or, if not, at least she’d be here. Talking a mile a minute, probably annoying the hell out of their captors. Yaz can almost hear her now—
Wait.
She can hear her now.
day sixteen: accidents happen for @ilovemosss
So, Jason reflects, it may not have been the best idea to take Pythagoras out training while they’re all suffering from a severe lack of sleep. Being the more logical of them, Pythagoras, to his credit, had attempted to talk him out of it, but Jason ignored him.
He very much regrets that decision now.
day seventeen: you and me (moving through this world as a two-man team) for @laelipoo
TK does not have a crush on the 126's latest hire.
Carlos Reyes: an Austin local, an incredible firefighter, and—objectively speaking—the most beautiful man TK has ever laid eyes on. Which is, in fact, the entire point; TK has eyes and, yes, he will use them to sneak a look or two when he’s suddenly sharing space with a man who looks like a Greek god.
That does not mean he has a crush, Paul.
(and, sure, maybe he does sometimes dream about how soft Carlos’s lips look and the little blush he gets when he laughs and those little flecks of gold in his eyes, but he’s only human)
(how TK knows about the gold in Carlos’s eyes is none of anybody’s business)
day eighteen: in perfect harmony for @anyotherheartwilldo
Here’s the thing—Carlos doesn’t believe in signs. He used to when he was younger, raised on his abuela’s stories, but as he’d gotten older his father had taught him that what mattered was the choices he made. He’s the only one who has a say in the way his life turns out, and if he wants something, he has to put in the work to get it.
But there comes a point—namely, after his fifth thwarted attempt to propose to TK—when he begins to wonder if the universe really does have something against him.
*
proposing to tk proves far more complicated than carlos had first thought.
day nineteen: whatever here that's left of me (is yours) for anon
“Are you…” TK leans closer, peering at the hoodie Carlos is wearing, and—yep. “Why are you wearing my hoodie? Was there nothing in your size from the crew? You should have said something. We can fix this, you don’t need to be uncomfortable.”
There’s a beat, and then Carlos, studiously avoiding TK’s gaze, clears his throat. “It smells like you.”
*
post-2.12, carlos finds comfort in tk's hoodies.
day twenty: can't smile without you for anon
Carlos would be lying to himself if the possibility hadn’t occurred to him before. He has always worried for TK’s safety, and the knowledge that a serial killer is on the loose in Austin has sent that worry skyrocketing. Especially because he’s the lead detective on the case; he’s spent hours poring over horrific crime scenes, examining all the facts until they’re burned into his brain.
Admittedly, the killers seem to be mostly indiscriminate in who they take, meaning the chances of it being TK are slim.
But there’s still a chance.
*
a before, during, and after of tk's kidnapping in a hole where your memory goes
day twenty-one: lately you've been searching for a darker place to hide for @freddieholic
“Can I ask you something else?”
TK stiffens at the sound of Mateo’s voice, a nervous note to it that wasn’t there last time. Something tells him he knows exactly what Mateo wants to ask; still, he turns to lean against the counter, crossing his arms as casually as he can manage. “Sure.”
“Are you…” Mateo trails off, biting his lip and avoiding TK’s gaze. “I mean, do you… I mean—”
“You can say it, you know,” he interrupts, not unkindly. “If you want to know if I’m thinking about heading out and getting high, then just ask.”
*
five times tk turns to unhealthy coping mechanisms when he wants to use + one time he finally asks for help
day twenty-two: know me crazy, soothe me daily for anon
It had freaked Carlos out the first time it happened.
“It was a seizure,” TK explained, after Carlos had finished telling him about it. TK had been disoriented and confused for about ten minutes after, and couldn’t even remember half of their earlier conversation. “I… It’s because of the drugs. They fucked something up in my brain, especially after my first overdose, and now I get seizures occasionally."
*
in which carlos gets a little over-protective and tk is mildly exasperated
day twenty-three: lover, be good to me for anon
Carlos holds his arms out, and TK comes willingly, setting what Carlos now recognises as a tray of food carefully on the bed. “What’s this?”
TK stares as if it’s obvious. “Date night.”
“What?”
TK pauses, then gasps. “You’re right.” He pats himself down frantically, then pulls an object out of his pocket with a dramatic flourish. It’s a little electric tea light—real candles long since banned from the bedroom—and Carlos watches in bemusement as TK flicks it on and sets it down on the tray. “Now it’s date night.”
*
his fiancé being bed-bound isn't going to keep tk from date night
day twenty-four: bring you in from the cold for anon
As a cop, Carlos has always been uncomfortably aware of his own mortality. He’s considered his own death more than is probably healthy, but when you’re facing down the barrel of a gun almost every single day, it’s kind of forced on you.
He’s imagined himself being shot, stabbed, strangled, and everything in between.
But he’s not sure he ever pictured dying in a walk-in freezer after getting trapped there by mistake.
day twenty-five: heaving through corrupted lungs for anon
TK is itching to go home and check on Carlos, to make sure he’s still breathing and actually resting like he’s supposed to be. On the other hand, Carlos would probably kill him if he left work, illness be damned. It’s just… Carlos had looked so ill that morning, skin ashen and voice all but gone, and it had taken a lot of convincing for TK to still go to his own shift. He’d insisted on making sure Carlos had all the blankets and water and snacks and anything else he could possibly want, but even so, he’s still uneasy.
His gut is telling him that something’s wrong, and TK doesn’t think he can ignore it for much longer.
*
when carlos falls ill, they think it's just a bad cold. but when tk goes to check on him, he's in for a nasty shock.
day twenty-six: slowly becoming lovers for @pragmaticoptimist34
Things don’t get fixed overnight. They agree to give them a shot, but that doesn’t change the fact that TK is still reeling from his break-up and overdose, nor that Carlos is still hesitant and afraid of pushing too hard at once.
But, slowly, they get to know each other. And, slowly, they start to fall in love.
*
tk and carlos, getting to know each other and falling in love
day twenty-seven: and curse the gods for @girlwhowasntthere
Jason knows what it is to be cursed.
day twenty-eight: ignoring every warning for @moviegeek03
TK is fine.
He is absolutely, 100% fine.
And, sure, maybe he’s not supposed to be at work right now, and maybe his hand hasn’t fully healed yet, but it’s nothing. His doctor cleared him to go back to work, which means it’s healed enough, and TK is certainly not going to admit defeat no matter how much he's hurting.
day twenty-nine: can you beat back the night? for @girlwhowasntthere
He misses the bard. Geralt won’t admit it, not even to Roach, but he misses him. After months—years—of Jaskier’s constant chatter and the sound of his lute, the silence, once valued above all else, is too much.
It’s been months since the dragon, since Geralt lost both Yennefer and Jaskier in one fell swoop. He’s cursed himself many times over for the words he said—to both of them—and cursed himself more for the mistakes he made to get in this position in the first place.
*
this is the lot of witchers, to be alone.
day thirty: ease my mind for @silvarafael
Briefly, Carlos considers calling TK and telling him about the accident. But… He only broke two of his fingers and it barely even classifies as a minor injury in his book, so there’s really no reason to bother his fiancé while he’s still on shift himself. He pockets his phone then looks around to figure out where the exit is.
Only, an all-too familiar laugh distracts him from his task, drawing his attention to the nurses station.
Where TK is standing, smiling as a nurse swats at him for stealing one of their lollipops.
Carlos is, beyond doubt, fucked.
day thirty-one: scars turn to memories for anon
Their front door is open. It’s wide open, and the wood of the door frame is broken, splinters littering the driveway and the floor of the front room. TK’s heart stops in his chest as he surveys the scene, his brain going blank, struggling to comprehend what he’s seeing.
Everything is quiet in the front room, not even a table setting out of place. TK creeps further into their home, his every nerve on edge as he barely breathes for fear of alerting whoever’s here of his presence.
And then, he remembers.
Carlos was off shift tonight. He was here. Alone.
79 notes · View notes
cloud9in · 3 years ago
Text
Promises (Poppy x MC) Part (2/?)
Read Part ONE (summary for fic is there)
ITS BEEN A MINUTE. @iamsimpforpoppy I hope you’re still around to read :P I love this story lol. Hope you guys do too!!!
Word Count (2.8k)
Bea and Poppy’s relationship became official a month after their initial meeting. One would say they moved quickly, too quickly. But every love story is different. This one in particular seemed to have little to none flaws, if you ignored the fact that Bea was promoted to Carter’s right hand woman in the Southside Spades.
 They did end up having that conversation after all.
 “…Are you sure Carter? I mean this is a huge deal and a special role-“
 “If I didn’t think you were capable you wouldn’t be here right now Goldilocks.”
 Carter winked and clinked his half empty beer bottle against Bea’s, who surprisingly had a nearly full bottle. He took note of the abnormality. 
 The blonde instinctively rolled her eyes at the nickname, “Okay but that name has to go. We need codenames……ooooh how about bimbo and himbo.” 
 “I’m guessing…..no, hoping I’m the himbo?!” Carter comments as he promptly tries to stop the laugh escaping from his lips.
 “Mmmmmmm, I’ll get back to you on that.”
 They share a laugh and Bea feels Carter’s gaze latch onto her in her peripherals. She could sense the shift of energy in the space between them, it almost felt uncomfortable, and that was something she never felt with Carter. “I never asked you if you were okay with such a role. If you aren't, I understand completely, I just want the best for you.”
 The blonde eyes soften at his comment and she looks at him, “never doubted that, where is this going though because you never express your feelings like a normal human being.”
 He pulls on the strings of her hoodie until it completely caves around her face, burying her whole.
 “Hey asshole!” 
 “That’s for talking too much.”
 Bea yanks her hoodie open and sticks her tongue out in a mock expression. “Oh boohoo. Poppy literally says the same thing, I don’t get it. I talk, it’s a problem. I don’t talk, it’s an even BIGGER problem. Damn a girl can’t ever exist in peace.”
 Carter places his bottle flat on the table and studies the blonde’s face. 
 She kept rambling on about her new girlfriend and the gang leader didn’t know it was possible to feel happy yet anxious at the same time. He was aware of when they entered the talking stage, went on their first date, and finally became official, because Bea told him everything. As much as the experience of being in a real relationship was new to her, Bea looked up to him and somehow she knew Carter would give her the best guidance possible. 
 It didn’t stop him from worrying. Like an older brother would. He feared the two would mix, and everyone knows that love and crime will eventually combust. He is no stranger to it.  
 “Bea.”
 “Did you know she stole one of my hoodies and actually won’t give it back?? What am I supposed to do, just take it? No she’d murder me.”
 “Jackson.”
 Her voice slowly dies down after sensing the seriousness in his tone. She takes a sip of her beer to ease the silence that sat in the air, and Carter responds shortly after.
 “You know I trust you with my life right? You’re very important to me, kid.” 
 “I know.”
 Guilt was a feeling he chose to lock away in an unbreakable box and bury six feet deep. There couldn’t be guilt in a lifestyle like this. But Bea was his only exception. And she was slowly bringing that box back up to the surface. 
 “I need you to promise me that you won’t let these two worlds collide.”
 “Carter….”
 “One of you will get hurt. And I won’t forgive myself if it’s you.”
 He leaves Bea at the table, the remnants of his comment still replaying in her head. She pulls out her phone and sees a text from Poppy on her lockscreen. 
 Other Half 💗❤️‍🔥- Can’t wait to see you tomorrow 😘 
 The blonde smiles unconsciously and opens the message to respond.
 I’m missing you like crazy. I have a special surprise for you.
 Other Half 💗❤️‍🔥- You know I highly dislike surprises, just tell me. 
 And ruin the surprise? You must be crazier than I thought. 
 Other Half 💗❤️‍🔥- Jackson.
 Patience babe…tomorrow it is. 
 Bea clicks her phone shut and slips it back into her pocket before downing the rest of the beer. 
***
“You know your hand on my ass only makes them stare even more Jackson?”
 Bea bites her lips and gropes the blonde’s plump backside shamelessly while slowly whispering into her ear.
 “That’s the point, princess.”
 Poppy shivers almost instantly at the boldness. “Is this the surprise you were talking about?” Bea doesn’t answer, instead trailing her hand up Poppy’s skirt. This was definitely not the time and place for such behavior but she was clearly still learning everything about her girlfriend. 
 And it definitely felt good to call her that.
 “Since when did you get so brazen? You know you’re exactly the type of person my daddy told me to stay away from.”
 Bea laughs at that statement and wraps her arm around the blonde’s waist, “yeah? And why’s that?”
 “Well I can’t ask him now, he might rough you up and that’s my job.” 
 Poppy could feel the stares of everyone burning into them, but she could only focus on the blonde cuddled up against her. The shorter girl wouldn’t call herself an attention whore, but she sure loved the PDA that Bea projected without a care. It felt nice to be genuinely admired in public rather than putting on a mask everyday. 
 But it’s safe to say that Poppy preferred all the handsy stuff to happen in private. 
 “Do you want to grab dinner with me tonight Pops?”
 “Am I picking the place?”
 “…Yes.”
 “Then yes.”
 Bea rolls her eyes at the blonde’s downright shady self but smiles nevertheless. 
 “Now don’t cancel on me out of the blue. I will not be thrilled about it.”
 “Shouldn’t I be telling you this? Your dad always has something going on in his business that somehow has to involve you too.”
 Poppy sighs and glances over at Bea, “well you know I’ll have to take over eventually. Especially since I’m legally allowed to handle deals now.”
 “I hate that word. Legal. Ugh.” 
 The shorter girl scoffs and plants her hands on her hips, “yeah I bet you do.”
***
Bea dragged open her closet in search of clothes for dinner tonight but the dinging noise of a text distracts her. 
 C-Dog🖤- Need you tonight. Something came up, meet us at the garage.
Bea wanted to thank the gods up above that she didn’t promise Poppy that she’d show up for dinner. But that wasn’t going to save her from the fury of the blonde. Good thing it can’t get worse than that, right….?
Only it was. And Poppy will probably beat her up herself, if she wasn’t dead by the next day. 
Bea’s mind and heart races as she digs her brain for a proper excuse to tell her girlfriend, but is very unsuccessful. She’s good at drug dealing though. 
 Going with the good ole truth never really hurt right?
 Baby I’m so sorry I won’t be able to make it tonight. Got held up with the gang. I know I’m an asshole, I’ll keep in touch I swear. 
 Other Half 💗❤️‍🔥- What else could I expect from my gang banger girlfriend 🙄 please stay safe..
 You know I always do.
 Other Half 💗❤️‍🔥- Do I? We need to talk about this tomorrow.
 Of course Pops.
 Other Half 💗❤️‍🔥- Call me every chance you get or I swear I’ll track you and trust me you do not want me to do that.
 Yeah she definitely doesn’t. Especially since Carter sounded frantic over the phone. The last thing Bea needed was a paranoid girlfriend, so she played it cool like always. 
 Just simple stuff baby girl, talk soon.
 ***
“…What do you mean it’s gone?! So where is it? Do you know what this means Carter??”
 The gang leader sighs frustratingly, rubbing his eyes in efforts to gain some stability. “The product was here, and now it is not. Which can only mean it was stolen. And when I find out which son of a bitch did it, they’re dead.”
 “In the meantime, we are dead”, Bea emphasizes wildly. “This is the Red Raven gang we’re talking about. If they get any inclination that we lost their drugs, they’ll kill and replace us. No mercy. None.”
The blonde paces back and forth trying not to think about buying a plane ticket to Timbuktu. 
Carter approaches Bea and plants his hands on her shoulder, “breathe Jackson. You are my partner. The leader of this gang. So get it out of your system and start being rational.”
 The blonde lets her shoulders sag as she inhales and exhales in place for a while. The minute she’s grounded she catches Carter’s gaze and her eyes light up. “List. I need a list of whoever went in the room with all of the product. We need to narrow it down.”
***
“Jackson you’re a fucking genius.”
 “It’s called having common sense but I’ll take the praise. It’s the only one I’m getting from you anyways.”
 Carter resisted the urge to pick a fight with the younger girl, because finding stolen drugs and not getting killed seemed like a much better idea. 
 Bea figured out that Henry, one of the newly recruited members of SS was a thief, or maybe just a crackhead. Same thing. He was the last to be in that room so all eyes were on him, and guns.
 “Heyyy buddy. Henry right?”
 The shorter man trembled at the sight of a gun lodged right into his mouth. “Mmmm!”
 “Oh I’m sorry, did you want to say something? Here let me just”, Bea clicks the gun which only causes the thief to panic even more. It was almost pitiful. 
 “Alright lay off the poor sucker.” 
 Bea pulls the gun out of his mouth and sits down on a stool in front of Henry with a grin. “So…where is the stash darling?” 
 He points almost immediately to a built in storage locker with a shaky finger. 
 “Ohhh well that was so easy Henry! Glad you could comply. You should tell your friends to be more like you. But…between me and you, they might already be dead”, Bea whispers that last part slowly, smirking when Henry’s lip quivers violently. 
 “Please just do it already! Why are you guys waiting?”
 Bea raised an eyebrow in surprise and glanced over at Carter who scanned the man’s face intensely. “I guess he wants to die? Talk about kinks I mean come on”
 “No.”
 Carter reaches his arm out towards Bea but never takes his eyes off Henry. The blonde watches in confusion until she realizes the thief is looking behind her, and so is Carter.
 “It’s a setup Bea, duck!”
 She dived for the ground quicker than lightning as a bullet flies through the air, leaving a trail of dust behind. Carter ducks for cover as well and starts firing rounds towards the men who snuck up on them. He managed to hit three of them but one grabs Bea by the leg and drags her against the rough concrete. 
 “Son of a- get your dirty hands off of my Dr. Martens. My girlfriend bought me these!”
 A swift kick to the face shut the blonde up real quick but she manages to recoil and send the man sprawling backwards into a row of barrels. 
 Carter guns him down and Bea finds her footing, pistol in hand and a thirst for revenge. But they never stopped coming. 
 Her and Carter were left battered and bruised, but alive. Their product was gone again though. But atleast they were alive. Carter told her that it was a theft mission primarily and neither of them were meant to die. But it only made Bea wonder who those people were.
 And why were they kept alive?
***
“Beatriz Naomi Jackson what the actual fuck?!”
 “Oh not the middle name…”
 Bea tries to avoid Poppy’s killer gaze as she surveys the damage that had been done to her girlfriend’s torso, legs, and face. 
 The strawberry blonde could barely mutter a word. Her mouth opened and closed in brief shock before collapsing next to the injured girl. 
 Bea could see the tears flowing down her rosy cheeks, which contrasted her porcelain skin. “Poppy…are you crying? I..please don’t..”
 “What do you expect me to do Bea? It kills me to see you hurt like this. Who did it? Tell me!” The blonde chokes on her own words as her hands hovers cautiously over Bea’s wounds, afraid to make her feel pain.
 “No I can’t tell you. I mean…I didn’t expect this to happen. It was a setup and we were outnumbered-“
 “We need to get you to a hospital Bea oh my god.”
 The blonde knew that she couldn’t go there. Not with the cops on the scene of the shootout, and actively looking for the people involved. Aka her and Carter. He told her to lay low and heal up, but she didn’t expect Poppy to be sitting on her bed waiting for her when she got home. The initial look on her face made Bea regret ever choosing this life. 
 She regrets it ever since being with Poppy. But it’s like a drug, once you start it’s hard to stop. 
 “I’ll call my father, he has the best doctors available and we’re gonna get your the right treatment and-“ 
 Poppy immediately cuts off, her eyebrows scrunching up until she realizes something. “Wait…what do you mean you were outnumbered Bea?” 
 Bea swallows heavily, praying that this conversation couldn’t escalate further, but that isn’t the case. 
 “Bea, answer me”
 “It..it was just me and Carter. We didn’t think there would be an ambush. We had just gone there to get goods we lost.”
 “And where is Carter? Does he know you’re like this right now? Did he leave you, I swear to god Bea if he left you…” Poppy’s voice cracks as her whole body shivers in violent waves. 
 Bea pulls her girlfriend in for a hug even though it causes every inch of her body to sting harshly. It was the comfort that she needed though. Watching Poppy breakdown over the sight of her was too much, and she began to contemplate everything. 
 “Pops listen to me, I cannot go to the hospital right now. There are cops looking for us.” The strawberry blonde stares at her until she understands the velocity of Bea’s words. 
 “Fine. But there will be a doctor that will come to treat you at my house. And you’re coming, I don’t want to hear it.” 
 Bea knew not to protest that. It was quite obvious this whole incident has left both parties distraught and she didn’t want to try and tell Poppy how to feel. 
 “Just tell me something. Are you in immediate danger? Is someone trying to harm you right now.”
 The blonde chose her words carefully. Because even after coming home beaten to a pulp, she still couldn’t tell the love of her life the full truth. 
 “No Poppy, they just wanted the drugs. They got what they wanted. I’m not in danger.”
 For now.
 “I will be okay.”
 I hope.
 “Don’t lie to me Jackson. I can’t do this if you lie. You promised me you wouldn’t get to the point where you’d have to choose between me and the gang.”
 “I know Poppy…I-“
 “You promised.”
 “And I’m going to keep that promise-“
 “Yeah the hell you are. And you’re going to promise me that you won’t ever come home like this again. You’re going to get yourself killed before we even start our life together. Our future.”
 Bea sucks in a breath which punctures her chest. She couldn’t tell if the injuries or Poppy’s words had caused that terrible ache. “Our…Wait I..”
 “I love you Jackson. I…don’t care if you think it’s too early to say that. I don’t care if I sound too cheesy for a mean girl. I love kissing you and feeling the laughter run through your body when we hug. I love being the reason you smile. I love you. And you don’t have to say it back. I just..I needed you to know-“
 “I love you too. Probably maybe from the moment I met you.”
 Poppy’s eyes seemed to glisten once again and this time there was no sadness etched into the shape. She smiled a pure smile and wrapped her arms around Bea in a tight hug. 
 She captures her lips in a searing kiss that leads to a trail of kisses down the strawberry blonde’s neck, dip of her collarbone, and chest. Bea kisses her until her chest gives out from exhaustion and pain.
 “Then you have to promise that this won’t happen again.” 
 “I promise.”
 ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
NOTES: They’re gonna be fineeeee, right guys??? Graduation next chapter woooo.
Tags: @samanthadalton @somewillwin @clowneryme  @baexpoppy @poppysmc @doey-eyes8 @veenast @straightlikewetspaghetti @phoennixxsblog
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ragingbookdragon · 4 years ago
Text
Each Word Gets Lost In The Echo PT. 1
Roy Harper x Batbrother!Reader
Word Count: 2.9K Warnings: Explicit Language, Mature Themes
Author's Note: I had way too much fun with this but PT. 2 is going to be angsty and y'all are gonna hate me for it. >:) Enjoy! -Thorne
********************************************************************************
So, are you planning on getting us together soon?
He hummed in response, pulling out the pan and spatula. “I dunno. With Gutierrez’s wife giving birth, I want Esmeralda to have some time with her daughter before we pull out again. I know her Samantha wants her home.”
Understood, but…what’s happening in Syria…it’s not going to get better on its own.
“I know it won’t, Nadeen. But until we get a mission from somebody overseas, we can’t exactly go out.” He pulled a few eggs from the refrigerator, cracking them on the rim of the pan, watching the yellow yolks fall in. “Besides, it’s the first week of a three-month leave.” He smirked. “Don’t tell me you’re already bored.”
Are you kidding me? Um and Ab have grounded me from flying. I’m stuck here, (Y/N).
“How is your family by the way? Wasn’t your sister attending the Cairo University?” he asked.
Yeah, and Um is so proud of her.
(Y/N) chuckled, whisking the eggs in the pan. “Someone’s jealous.”
Well, I can’t exactly tell my parents I work for an illegal black ops squad. Kinda puts dampers in relationships.
“Nadeen, we’re not an illegal squad. We’re government sanctioned.”
The fuck we are. They just don’t bother us because they know they can’t kill us all.
Grabbing the pepper, he ground some into the pan. “Jesus, take a vacation, Nadeen. Go to France or something.”
Fuck France. I’ll go to Saint Petersburg first. Oh shit, speaking of SP, have you spoken to Vitsina yet?
(Y/N) frowned, setting down the pepper grinder. “Why? Is something wrong?”
What? No. I was just wondering if you had. She really needs to get a hobby. Hey, maybe I can get her and Walker to come hang out with me at home.
“You’re not going to get Walker out of his flat, Nadeen. You know how he is when he gets on leave.”
And what about Nakamoto?
“You know they’re both paranoid. Remember to—” something clanged down the hallway and he stopped, mid-sentence, going silent.
Hello? (Y/N)? Captain, you alright?
He frowned and turned off the stove, opening a drawer at the far end of the counter. Pulling out the Glock, he cocked it and murmured, “Asghar, lemme call you back.”
Ten-four, Captain. Be careful.
The line went dead, and he crept to the edge of the doorway and paused, inhaling sharply before he peeked around the corner, gun ready. Nothing. (Y/N)’s frown only deepened as he moved down the hallway, quiet and breathless. He got to the first room in the hall, his study and he shifted against the wall, listening for movement. When he heard nothing, he moved slightly, gun pointed into the door as he swept the room. Empty.
Exhaling deeply, he started to move when he heard the noise again and he peeked out the door to his bedroom. There. (Y/N) crept along the wall again until he was at the doorway and he leaned against the frame, listening carefully. Something was in there. Something or someone, he didn’t know what, but he did know.
(Y/N) waited until the noise got closer then turned the doorway and moved in. Someone’s hand shot out, grabbing the gun and he grunted, throwing up his elbow into their jaw. The intruder cried and with their free hand, grabbed (Y/N)’s shirt and yanked; they went tumbling to the ground, the gun falling away, but he didn’t waste his chance, scrambling atop the stranger as he went for the Strider he had in his back pocket.
He flicked it out and brought it down when the person beneath him grabbed it with one hand, the other ripping off the hood he wore. “(Y/N)! It’s me!”
“Roy?”
The archer sighed and went slack beneath him. “God, yes, it’s me!”
(Y/N) relaxed and tossed the knife to the side, hanging his head down. “Jesus Fuck Roy, I thought you were an assassin.”
“Get those often?” he shot back and (Y/N) glowered at him.
“Yeah, I do actually.” He rolled off Roy and got to his feet, holding out his hand for him to take.
“God, remind me not to sneak up on you again.” He let himself be tugged up and rubbed his jaw. “I thought you dislocated my jaw for a second.”
(Y/N) shoved a finger in his face. “You’re lucky you managed to grab the gun because I almost shot your ass.” He bent down and picked up his Glock and knife, putting the latter back in his pocket after he’d flicked it shut. “Are you some kind of idiot? Why the fuck didn’t you just knock on the door? What possibly justified sneaking into a mercenary’s bedroom through the window?”
Roy shrugged. “I thought you weren’t home yet.”
He opened his mouth to retort, then shut it and nodded. “Alright, that’s actually not a terrible excuse.” Sighing, he shoved past Roy and walked down the hall into the kitchen, the archer following him. “But don’t do it again.”
“Why? Worried you were gonna shoot your boyfriend?” Roy teased, wrapping his arms around (Y/N)’s waist, nuzzling into his neck.
“Yeah, I was.” He put the gun back in the drawer and lugged the archer towards the stove where he flicked the burner back on. “Next time just text me and ask if I’m home.”
Roy hummed, pressing a kiss just above the mercenary’s collar. “I wanted to surprise you.”
“Well,surprise me you did,” (Y/N) griped. “I seriously thought I was about to have a firefight in my own damn apartment.” He paused, seeming to remember something and said, “I live in a penthouse.” Glancing at Roy, he questioned, “How the fuck did you get up here?”
“I’ve got skills, babe,” Roy grinned, waggling his brows and (Y/N) rolled his eyes before tapping the Bluetooth headset at his ear.
“Call Nadeen.” It pinged for a few moments.
Captain, you’re back. Everything good?
“Yeah,” he sighed. “Roy was in the apartment.”
You live in a penthouse? How’d he get up there?
“His ‘skills’ apparently.”
Nice. He still going around with your brother?
(Y/N) nodded forgetting she wasn’t in front of him and reclined into Roy as the eggs started cooking. “Yeah. Got a new gig as Red Hood and Arsenal.”
Roy blinked. “Wait, does your squad know…about you know…”
He waved and (Y/N) completed, “That my family and friends are vigilantes? Yeah. Why?”
“Isn’t that a breach of security?”
He snorted. “You act like my squad is friends with every government in the world, baby.” He shook his head. “I trust my team with everything. And in return they trust me with theirs.”
Aww, Captain you do care.
“Does your dad know that they know?”
(Y/N) shrugged. “Probably. But he doesn’t tell me how to live my life and I don’t tell him how to live his.” He scrambled the eggs. “Nadeen, go hang out with Vitsina for a week or two if you’re really that bored.”
She’s back in Russia right now, isn’t she?
“I think so. Said she had a loose end to tie up with Antonovich.”
Oh shit, she’s gonna fucking kill that guy. She might need air support then.
“Hence why I said go hang out with her.”
Wanna come along? You could bring your boy-toy?
“Did she just call me a boy-toy?” Roy blurted. “Excuse you, I am not a boy-toy. I am a boy-man.”
Well, from the pictures Captain’s showed us, you are in fact a boy-toy, Roy.
He blinked and looked at (Y/N). “What pictures did you show them?”
“Nothing,” he coughed. “Nadeen, shut up.”
The ones with the red lace and matching heels.
“You didn’t.” Roy breathed. “You showed them the pin-up photos?!”
(Y/N)’s mouth fell open and closed as he vaguely gestured around. “I didn’t directly show them. Nakamoto hacked my phone like the nosy asshole he is and found ‘em.”
“So that means you still showed them because you apparently didn’t stop them from seeing!”
Oh, look at that, Captain, Ab is calling me. Talk later!
She hung up on him and (Y/N) huffed a laugh, pulling the device from his ear. He set it aside and shrugged out of Roy’s arms, pulling two plates out of the cabinet beside them. He plated the food, smirking at the flush across Roy’s cheeks. “Oh, don’t tell me you’re embarrassed, baby?”
“You showed my nudes to your black ops squad. It’s hot. Ridiculously hot. But also embarrassing.”
“If it makes you feel any better, they were very impressed with them.”
Roy tried and failed horribly to hide the grin coming over his lips. “…They were?”
(Y/N) set down the plates and got up in Roy’s personal space and flirted, “Oh absolutely baby. They were so stunned at how pretty you looked all dolled up in that red teddy, your lips painted crimson.” He gripped Roy’s hips and pulled them flush together, and while Roy was about five-eleven, (Y/N) had a couple inches on him. He smirked when he felt the definition in Roy’s jeans. “Wanna know what my favorite picture is?”
Roy swallowed thickly, one hand coming to grab at the island behind him, the other grabbing (Y/N)’s shoulder. “Which—which one?”
He pressed a kiss to the underside of the archer’s jaw, trailing his lips to his ear where he breathed, “The one where you’re bent down on the bed…” he reached up behind Roy’s back and tugged at the hair at the nape of his neck. “Your ass is up in the air and...”
“Uh huh, what else?” Roy begged, hips canting forward.
“God, you’ve got that pretty red flush across your cheeks.” (Y/N) whispered. “You looked incredibly ravishing.” He breathed in Roy’s ear. “We were on that mission in Kazakhstan for two whole months and all I could think about was getting back home and drilling you into the mattress until you couldn’t walk.”
“(Y/N)…” the archer groaned shamelessly. “Babe, please.”
He smirked, pressing a kiss to Roy’s cheek. “I didn’t show them that one though,” he said, pulling away without a second thought, picking up the plates. “I kept that one to myself. It’s still in my wallet if you wanna go check. I look at it a lot.”
(Y/N) wandered towards the living room and plopped down on the couch, propping his legs up on the coffee table. He snorted when he heard Roy’s moan of frustration followed by the man stomping into the living room with the other plate in his hand, the free one adjusting the front of his jeans.
“I hate you.” He scowled, sitting on the other end of the couch. “I hate you so fucking much it’s not funny.”
(Y/N) shrugged and picked up the remote, switching the channels until he found a football game to watch. “You snuck into my penthouse and almost made me shoot you point blank.” He shot Roy a grin. “I guess we’re both doing things to each other we don’t like.”
“I thought you weren’t home!”
“Mhm. Punishment is still a punishment, baby.” He turned up the volume and dug into his eggs. “Jason know you’re in Gotham City?”
Roy swallowed the food in his mouth, answering, “Told him I was in the area.”
“You know he’s gonna wanna see you.” (Y/N) replied. “If not to hang out, to make sure you’re not into trouble.”
“Are you saying I’m trouble, babe?” Roy retorted and he chuckled.
“You’re my kind of trouble.”
The archer went silent, and his cheeks flushed. “…That was a low blow.”
(Y/N) winked. “Uh huh.” His side vibrated and he reached down, pulling his phone out.
“Who is it?” Roy asked.
“Alfred.” He slid his thumb along the bottom and put it to his ear. “Hello, you’ve reached the answering machine of your favorite grandson. How may I assist you today, grandpa?”
You’re absolutely hysterical, Master (Y/N). You should go into comedy.
“I would but it doesn’t pay that well unlike merc missions.”
Hmm…how are you today, Master (Y/N)?
He smiled. “Not too bad Alfie. Could’ve eaten a perfect parfait with fresh fruit and granola, but beggars can’t be choosers, huh?”
You did miss an excellent breakfast if I do say so myself. Nevertheless, it is Sunday morning. Shall I expect you later tonight for dinner?
“Wouldn’t miss it for the world, Alfie.” (Y/N) agreed.
Wonderful. I shall set out an extra plate in case you decide to invite Master Harper. Have a good day. Until tonight, sir.
The line clicked and (Y/N) pulled the phone from his ear, staring at it in confusion. “Babe? What’s wrong?” Roy questioned.
He shook his head. “Alfred knew you were here.”
“What? He did?”
He looked up at Roy. “Yeah…said he was going to set out an extra plate for you tonight at dinner in case you wanted to come.”
“I get to come to the Wayne Family Sunday Night Dinner? Really?” he seemed awfully excited.
“Dude, it’s just dinner.”
“That you guys do every Sunday night and don’t allow anybody to tread on,” Roy retorted with a glare. “This is special.”
(Y/N) rolled his eyes. “Are you that eager to be introduced to the family?” he dodged the pillow Roy threw at him. “But…if you wanna come, you’re free to.”
“Really?” Roy doubted. “You want me to come over? I thought you wanted to keep this quiet?”
He sighed and pulled his legs from the table, setting the plate on it. “It’s not that I want it to stay a secret. It’s just…I worry about it.”
Roy set his plate down on the coffee table and scooted close. “What about?”
“I don’t know, Roy. I’m just worried that the more people that know about us the more danger I put you in.”
“Babe…” Roy started, placing a hand on the other side of (Y/N)’s cheek so he could turn his face to the archer’s. “We both live dangerous lives. There’s always going to be danger surrounding us.”
“I know,” (Y/N) sighed, leaning into Roy’s hand. “I still worry though. About you…about us.” He met those evergreen eyes. “I’m just worried that every time I leave, it’s going to be the last time we see each other.”
Roy chuckled. “Afraid I’m going to get offed?”
“No,” he murmured, turning his lips into Roy’s palm. “That I will.”
The archer gaped at him. “(Y/N)…why haven’t you told me about this?”
“Because I’m a super soldier who was trained to keep my emotions under control by an anal retentive, over glorified kitchen scale of a father.” (Y/N) deadpanned, then heaved an even bigger sigh and rested his forehead against Roy’s shoulder. “You’ve got enough on your plate.”
“Yeah, Jaybird keeps me pretty busy with missions.”
He chuckled. “Gonna have to tell my little brother to let my boyfriend have a break.”
“Break smeak.” Roy quipped, pressing a kiss to (Y/N)’s temple. “Listen to me, you’re a strong man, (Y/N). You’re probably the best out of your family. Smart and skilled off the charts.” He ran his calloused fingers down his lover’s neck. “If anyone is going to get out alive on a mission, it’ll always be you. Always.”
He sighed, turning his nose into Roy’s neck as he whispered. “You think so?”
Roy smiled, gripping his chin lightly to pull his head up. “I don’t think so, babe. I know so.” He leaned forward and pressed his lips to (Y/N)’s. “I love you,” he murmured against the soldier’s lips. “So much.”
(Y/N) hummed and pressed a hand to Roy’s chest, shoving him backwards onto the couch and he crawled atop him. “I love you more,” he replied and pulled his shirt off his body before pressing his hand to Roy’s chest, except the archer hissed and he let up. “What’s wrong?” he worried, and he shook his head.
“Nothing.”
“Roy.” He warned, cocking a brow. “Where are you hurt?” he asked, pressing the same spot again.
“Ow! Stop that!” Roy grunted. “It’s tender.”
“What’s tender?” (Y/N) inquired and Roy sighed.
“I got a new tattoo.”
He narrowed his eyes and gazed down at him. “Of?”
“Nothing.” The archer muttered, though pink was coming across his cheeks and he sighed.
“C’mon Roy. Talk or I’ll tease it out of you.” He shot him a glare. “And you know I will.”
They stared one another down for a minute then Roy sighed and pulled his shirt off and (Y/N) peeled away the bandage. His eyes went wide when he saw the silver spartan helmet atop the black shield, the gold lettering underneath.
“Is this…”
“Your squad designation?” Roy offered. “Yeah…thought it seemed right.”
(Y/N) traced the raised flesh, eyes flashing to Roy’s when he shivered from the calloused touch. “I can’t believe you got my squads symbol tattooed on your chest.”
“You don’t like it?” he sounded hurt.
“I love it,” (Y/N) huffed, gesturing to his own tattoo on his ribs. “We match now…though you forgot to put your name inside the shield.”
“Well, I’m not technically a Spectre, (Y/N).” Roy said.
“Maybe not, but that’s still where your name goes.” He retorted and smiled. “It’s awesome, baby.”
Roy’s thumb brushed his hipbone. “So does the tattoo get me out of punishment for sneaking in?”
(Y/N) smirked down at him. “It just might.” He reached down and tugged the front of Roy’s pants. “Why don’t you show me how sorry you are for it? I just might decide to forgive you before subjecting you to dinner with my family.”
A multitude of emotions flashed through Roy’s eyes. Arousal, desire, need, and then surprise. “Oh shit, I forgot about dinner.”
“Seriously?” (Y/N) blinked, unsurprised. “God you’re such a man.” He crawled out of Roy’s lap much to the archer’s dismay and groaning.
“Where are you going?”
He paused and looked back at him. “I’m not fucking you on my couch, Roy.” He started towards his bedroom. “Hurry up or I’ll start without you.”
Roy rolled off the couch and to his feet as fast as he could.
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itssuppertim3 · 3 years ago
Text
Lean (Miraak x Reader):
Contemplating on writing for Pyramid Head every once in a while since I can't get the thick bastard off my mind but we'll see what the future brings
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"Do you like winter, Miraak?" I asked the man strolling quietly beside me. "Not necessarily. However, I remember a time when I did. My temple always felt a bit warmer-- more enjoyable during that time." I snorted at him in amusement, to which he wasn't fond of. "I just imagined you stringing up holiday decor." He merely scoffed in denial, though we both knew it was true.
While searching for another conversation topic, my foot slid against the mud beneath me. "Careful," Miraak warned as his hands clasped firmly around my shoulders. My breath was trapped in my throat from the sudden startle, but somehow he only made it worse. Once my voice came back to me, I said, "uh...-- yeah. Thank you." Damn, his hands were so warm. I could feel the heat emitting from them even through my armor. Alas, the soothing feeling dissappeared as soon as he retracted his arms.
"Honestly, I'm surprised you hadn't already cracked your skull before I came along. It seems that you are always tripping and stumbling wherever you go." I scratched my cheek and chuckled sheepishly. "Ah, you know me so well."
"That is only because I stand witness to it," he uttered. We continued onward to Morthal in silence. A week ago, Jarl Idgrod sent me a letter of assistance; "potential murdurer on the loose," it had read. She noted that she wasn't one to fall victim to senseless gossip, but over the last several days she had been growing paranoid of the situation. Thus, she requested us to investigate. "I wonder why the jarl wants two dragonborn to take care of a killer instead of the guards? Gods, I feel like most of the soldiers are just using this pitiful war as an excuse to be lazy," I grumbled with my arms crossing.
"I agree. Though as far as I'm concerned, she wants you to handle it, not I." I perked up at his remark. "What do you mean? Everyone should know by now that you're just as powerful as I am. We've been traveling together for three months." Miraak diverted his gaze from me and pointed it straight ahead. "Perhaps, but you and I are still very different from one another. The people of Skyrim view you as a hero to be remembered for ages, whereas I will forever be remembered as a traitor-- if I was even remembered at all." The atmosphere around us suddenly became very dim. For a moment, the only noise that could be heard was the mire sloshing under our boots.
"That's bullshit," I retorted finally. Miraak was taken aback by my sudden change of attitude. "Excuse my language, but it is. Look at all of the good you've done since we've been together! We took down a vampire lord for crying out loud! And yeah, we weren't thanked for it or anything--"
"Y/n."
"But that doesn't matter. What does matter is that you put in a lot of effort to make the world safer, and I think that deserves respect."
"Y/n." By now, Miraak was no longer walking at my side. "What is it?" Before he was able to respond, the muddy ground had fallen loose beneath me and I plummeted into a brown socket of water. Oh yeah, I forgot that we were trudging through a swamp. The filth shot through my mouth and nose as I was completely sumberged. To make matters worse, the water was also incredibly frigid, making it even more difficult to sort through my panic. A pair of arms dove into the murk and proceeded to yank me up by my collar.
I gurgled, spluttered, and heaved strong breaths once I was dragged out of harm's way. Miraak shook his head at me all the while. I could practically feel the smirk hiding under his mask. "Oh, yeah. Real funny. Please continue... to remind me of how much... of a klutz I am," I rasped, still trying to flow air into my lungs. "I did try to warn you, you know. You were about to walk straight into the pond," the man defended. "Ok. I'll give you that." Miraak helped me to my feet after I finally regained my composure. "Oh, great," I sighed at the muck covering me head-to-toe. "I look so unprofessional." He skimmed over the grime coated over my outfit before scooping a clump of mud and smearing some over his robes. "I suppose we'll both have to look unprofessional, then." My cheeks tainted a dark pink at his actions, but I decided to blame it on the nip in the air.
My arms hugged my body when I started to shiver. Going for a dip in late autumn definitely wasn't the best of choices. Miraak scanned over the map and pinpointed our distance from Morthal. "We won't be able to arrive there before nightfall. We still have an hour left to go," he informed. I groaned to myself in reply. "Guess we'll have to make camp, then." He nodded, gesturing me to follow him.
In a matter of minutes, he had already secured a decent campfire and was now assembling the tent. Meanwhile, I was sitting on a nearby log with my bedroll enveloped around my trembling body. I was enjoying watching him, though. "I'd say you're a natural. When did you get so skilled at camping?" I inquired once he took a seat next to me. "By learning from you," he stated simply. Gods, how could he be such a jerk yet act so charming?! I avoided saying anything more and began scrubbing the dirt from my armor with a wet rag.
It was freezing, tonight. There was no comforting glow from the moon and stars due to the thick layer of clouds overhead, which only made it feel colder. I shuddered when a breeze travelled through the area and tormented my body. I was still wearing my undershirt and trousers, and even those were still damp. The cloth made my fingers sting the more I used it, until I felt Miraak's hand take ahold of my own. "Your fingers are red," were the only words that left his mouth before he grabbed my other hand and squeezed them both gently. I was so shocked by this that I couldn't even so much as blink. "Are you cold?" I had forgotten about the prickles climbing over my skin. "Um--uhh, kind of." How did my voice become so small?
Before I could protest, I was pulled closer to Miraak. And now that I left exposed, he felt even warmer than he did earlier. I wasn't even touching him! Not to mention how nice his hands felt. He was like a portable smelter! I stayed more silent than a moth as he continued to caress my fingers and palms. There was no telling what was going on inside of that brain of his.
"You may lean against me, if you like."
Oh.
Oh!
My heart was thrashing around inside of my chest. He wanted me to just... slide even closer and lean on him?! Just like that?! By now, my mind was spiraling in both confusion and embarrassment. Still, I was very cold. There wasn't any harm in doing it, right? He was the one who offered. I ultimately accepted his proposal.
It started off with our knees touching awkardly, and then with my head attempting to rest against his shoulder, which failed due to the golden scales protruding out from his sleeve and jabbing me in the side of the head. Miraak eventually lifted his arm, inviting me to scooch under it-- to which I did. As soon as I got situated, he let his hand ease onto my shoulder. I was so flustered that I could barely breathe. It was suffocating, practically unbearable, yet I only felt myself nestling further into him. "You're really warm," I mumbled.
Oh, dear.
Why on Nirn did I say that? I sounded like a pervert!!! What if he thought I was creepy?! My heart dropped as he held me still and turned to look at me. "Y/n, how do you feel?" It was made to be a question, but it sounded more of a demand. I sat tense for a long while, lips parted yet unmoving. "About...?" I gulped when he slowly placed my hand flat against his chest. I could feel his heart throbbing at a rapid pace, as was mine. "Me."
Miraak's voice was low and sounded on edge. Perhaps he was more nervous than I thought he was? My next movements were reckless. Recklessness seemed to be my only sense of courage, right now. I carefully drew his hand towards me and slipped off his glove. He didn't stop me, however his muscles twitched under my touch. I stared at his pale skin for a long while. It was decorated with veins and had a scar stretched over his knuckles. Thanks to the protection of his gloves, his fingernails were in prestine condition. In short, his hands were utterly glorious.
I tilted my face down and pressed my lips against his scar, leaving him breathless. "Does that answer your question?" I asked Miraak with a flushed grin. Without responding, he brushed his thumb over my cheek and felt the entirety of my features. His hand was so calloused and smoothe! I cupped my own against it, keeping it there for as long as possible. Once again, I was pulled into another embrace, this one being much tighter and affectionate. Neither of us decided to speak, and somehow it felt more befitting that way.
With my head resting against Miraak's chest, I could hear his heartbeat quite clearly. It was much slower compared to earlier, more soothing than anything. He wasn't very sure where to place his hands, so he kept one firm on my waist and the other rubbing my hair. Sure, my face was hotter than a bonfire and there was still panic fresh on my mind. Then again, I also felt so calm in his arms. This may have been the first time in my life where I actually felt normal. Everything around me simply fell into place. It was selfish of me to inwardly beg for this moment to never end. As a dragonborn, I had my responsibilites, but for now I kicked those responsibilities aside. I had the right to be selfish every now and then.
"Maybe I should go diving into swamps more often," I teased, breaking through the comfortbale silence. I felt my heart flutter in the midst of him vibrating a soft chuckle. "That would certainly be an entertaining idea. Though I might not get the same reaction from you each time." I peered up at my new love interest with a quirked brow. "What kind of reaction?" In one swift motion, Miraak nudged up his mask to his nose and blessed me with a kiss. It was quick and simple, hardly lingering over my lips in time for me to process it. It was as if I had just imagined it!
Even so, the blush stained on my cheeks was already spreading to my ears. This man was a complete menace. His mask was already tipped back down, but the coy smile he was holding was evident. "You bastard," I hissed. He only shrugged his shoulders at me. "If you fall into the swamp again, I may even give you another kiss," Miraak jested. I proceeded to whack his bicep.
------------------------
I bet Miraak got those plump ass lips :^3
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binunus · 4 years ago
Text
college bf!bin
a/n the duality of this man??? i’m deceased...anyway i did not think this would go this long but uh my hand slipped...happy birthday binnie!
word count: 5k
genre: fluff, smut, (tiny) angst _________________________________________________
ugh yo
bin is so??? infuriatingly hot??? yet cute at the same time
major: exercise science
and because I love mermaid prince/the beginning, he’s been on the swim team since first year college
swam varsity starting his second year
besties with eunwoo, they were roommates their whole college career
alright so bin loves making friends
he’s so playful and talkative once you really get to know him
but his aura?? tbh very intimidating
like he has an rbf and just like he’s so tall, broad shouldered, built, like he just carries himself very strongly that you will get intimidated when you first meet him
very well known in the university
literally has a professional photographed banner of him hanging in the athletic building with the gold medal he won freshman year
a little embarrassed about it
not really, only when the boys (as in literally the other five) tease him
myungjun: woOoOw bin that guy on the banner really looks like you, don’t you think?
rocky: we geeeeet it you’re a star athlete
blah blah blah you know the vibes, they’re endearing
so how do you meet bin?
basically you’re a friend of a friend—you’re eunbi’s (sinb) friend
you’ve only met bin briefly from time to time, but otherwise you never really had any reason to get acquainted with him
your only encounters of him are when he wants to annoy eunbi and she immediately puts him in his place
but then suddenly in the spring semester of your 2nd year, you and him are in the same 8 am
a boring statistics gen ed class that everyone needs to take in order to graduate
you were running a bit late during the first class meeting—you woke up 30 minutes after your alarm and literally rushed out of your apartment—you made it to class with 2 minutes to spare
most of the seats were filled up already, except that one seat in the back left corner by the window next to the one and only moon bin
oh would you look at that
you felt a bit relieved honestly, you didn’t know anyone else in that class so at least you saw a semi-familiar face
he grinned at you when you sat down
“hey y/n”
you were a bit taken back, “you know my name?”
he laughed a little, “yeah of course, you’re one of eunbi’s really good friends, why wouldn’t I know your name?”
before you could respond, the professor started class and ceased your conversation
one thing you realized as the weeks start to go on
you and bin could not give any two fucks about statistics
no offense to stats lovers
every 8 am on mon/wed/fri, neither one of you would pay attention in class
you both enabled each other to not pay attention basically
so when the professor announced the content and date for the first exam
you and bin literally looked at each other with the same expression
you were both fucked
after class was dismissed, instead of the two of you quickly packing your things and fleeing the room immediately, you both lagged a little bit
you: so...do you know anything that’s going to be on the exam?
bin: uh...no? y/n you’re literally right next to me, you know I don’t do jack shit in this class
you: well fuck, how are you gonna study then bin?
bin: I was probably gonna ask my roommate to help me, he passed with a 96 when he took this class
you give him the best puppy dog eyes you could muster up, you lean in and clasp your hands together like you’re praying
“can he help me too...? please?”
bin’s eyes go a lil wide bc you were a bit closer than he was used to and shit was his heart racing rn?
bin: uh...yeah...sure, i’ll text you to come over when we’re gonna study
you beam at him and like in your excitement you give him a hug
“thank you thank you thank you! i literally cannot fail this class. I’ll see you on friday bin!”
with that you grabbed your bag and just left, leaving bin shocked
he’s surprisingly a shy boy okay!
he always thought you were cute from when he first saw you hanging out with eunbi, but ofc he never thought any more of it
until you guys had this class together and he started to think every day, that wow you are really cute
bin texts you the next day
coincidentally, eunbi texts you too
bin: hey this is bin, if you’re free in an hour my roommate’s gonna help me go over the material in ch. 1
eunbi: why did bin ask for your number
you to bin: yes! send me your addy and i’ll be there :)
you to eunbi: we’re in the same stats class lol and we’re gonna study for our exam next week
eunbi: lol moon bin studying? you might wanna bring some wine with you for emergency y/n
you: lol what do you mean by that?
eunbi: binnie hates studying, but good luck!
ahh, eunbi becomes unhinged when it comes to bin
but you know it’s bc they’re that close, they’re literally childhood best friends, more so like siblings
still, studying w him couldn’t be that bad right?
spoiler alert, it went alright
you felt bad showing up to bin’s apartment empty handed so you picked up some coffee before you arrived
you officially meet bin’s roommate, eunwoo, and you’re floored for like 2 minutes bc literally how can a man like him be real?
cue bin being a bit jealous bc yeah he knew his roommate’s perfect but like damn did you have to be affected by him too :(
eunwoo’s a good teacher alright? you actually understood the material from him
you: idk what eunbi’s talking about, you’re actually not that bad at studying bin
bin being offended: oh god what did eunbi say about me
eunwoo smirking: maybe it’s because you’re here y/n, bin usually doesn’t focus this much when it’s just me trying to help him
you: ???
bin in his head: i can’t trust anyone huh 
before you left his place, you and bin planned to meet up and study one more time before your stats exam
it was just you and bin this time
although you’d never admit it, yes you tried to look good for meeting up with him
yeah he’s a friend?? at least you think you were at that level?? but still, he’s a cute friend and you really didn’t want him to see you looking crusty
you and bin end up studying for a whole 5 hours
granted, half of that time you two were messing around, eating food, trying to procrastinate for as long as you could
bc even though you two had a good handle on the material now—thanks to eunwoo—you both still hated statistics
you knew bin started to get more comfortable with you bc he started teasing you
it made you happy hehe so ofc you started to quip back at him
not at the intensity that he and eunbi do but it’s enough for you :)
he walks you back to your apartment after your study session
wow what a gentleman
bin waving bye at your door with the cutest smile: see you in class y/n :)
mayhaps your stomach did a little somersault
anyways
on the day of your exam you were freaking out
you have test anxiety ah ha ha
you woke up at 5 bc you were paranoid about being late to class
you’re like hastily looking over the notes again when you get to class like are you really prepared omg you’re psyching yourself out hella
bin comes in with 2 cups of iced coffee and he’s like woah are you okay
you: i woke up at 5 bin, idk if i can do this omg
you are like visibly in distress rn and he feels like a pang in his chest 
he was gonna mess with you and say like “bet im gonna get a higher grade than you” but he smartly decides against it
instead, he just takes your hand and gives it a little squeeze: y/n, take a deep breath. you’re going to do great, you studied your ass for this and we both know that you got this material down—even eunwoo hyung said you were gonna ace this exam. just trust your instincts, okay? breathe with me.
he was staring at you so intently and genuinely when trying to calm you down
your anxiety yeeted and suddenly you felt shy
you: th...thanks bin...
bin was worried about you while taking the test rip, he kept secretly glancing at you (while also trying not to make it look like he was cheating) just to make sure that you were okay
he walks you to your next class after you both finished your exam
bin: you sure you’re okay? you said you woke up at 5, did you even eat breakfast? let’s get food after your next class.
you were feeling better after the test but like you got so endeared at his fussing
yes you and bin got lunch that day
your exam results were uploaded the next day
you immediately called bin: I GOT A 95
bin: i told you that you would ace it! i got a 90 hehe
you: bin i literally owe you and eunwoo my life, lemme buy you guys food or something
you hear a little bit of bickering over the phone and suddenly you’re talking to eunwoo
eunwoo: i would love some sushi, but since bin can’t eat seafood, why don’t you come watch his swim meet this weekend :)
you: o...h...o-okay yeah i’d love to watch, what time is it? :)
eunwoo: it’s saturday at 10 am
you: okay! i’ll see you there bin
bin already planning on drop kicking eunwoo
cha eunwoo—best wingman™
you basically beg eunbi to go with you to bin’s swim meet
eunbi: i know bin can swim, why do i have to watch him flounder around under water
also eunbi: faster bin! don’t you fucking dare lose!
bin places first this meet
are we shocked? no
okay you mentally prepared yourself for seeing him shirtless, but clearly you didn’t prep enough bc you’re on the cusp of drooling when you’re watching him from the bleachers
and let’s face it, you’re not subtle and eunbi knows everything so she’s literally closing your jaw for you and like messing with you
eunbi: y/n, you’re really sure you like bin? he’s a good guy but c’mon, i think you deserve better
you: since when did i say that i like him ???? and what do you mean ??? i think he checks...all the boxes...for me...
eunbi: maybe it’s bc i’ve known him since when he used to wet his pants so i don’t understand why people are attracted to him, but like...really, you’ve been checking him out since he removed his shirt. even the ref can see that you’re simping over him
you and eunbi meet up with eunwoo and the rest of bin’s friends—that you haven’t met yet but know of
jinjin: oh so you’re the y/n that bin’s been talking about *wink wonk*
baby you’re blushing
even more so when bin comes up to your group
mmm middle parted wet hair, muscle tee and white sweats, towel around his shoulders
he’s so hot ???
you’re all congratulating him blah blah, but like bin keeps glancing at you and all you can do is just smile and like nervous laugh
sanha: y/n! eunbi noona! you should come eat with us to celebrate bin hyung’s win
eunbi glances at you, little smirk on her face: i have plans, but i know y/n’s free! bin you make sure they get home safe after y’alls dinner plans :)
hwang eunbi—best wingwoman™
dinner with the boys was chaotic, you were talking and joking around with them as if you didn’t just meet them today
*you about to get your wallet*
bin, not even able to look at you: it’s okay y/n, i got you this time
cue the boys teasing
astro: kings of making fun of each other
rocky as the group is splitting up: walk y/n home safely hyung :) don’t stay out too late
bin: sorry about them, they’re a bunch of loud idiots...ah haha...
the walk back to your apartment is actually pretty sweet
he didn’t know if you would actually come watch his meet or not but he was excited when he actually saw you
you talk about small random things about yourselves, but it’s not like useless information, you bet that both your subconsciouses are keeping track of whatever y’all are talking about
you give each other a “friendly” hug goodnight...that lasts like a minute or so
and while you’re hugging, bin just can’t help but think that wow you fit so perfectly in his arms
and on the other hand, you’re thinking he feels so warm? so safe? you don’t want to pull away?
but ofc the hug has to end and you’re thanking him for walking you home and he’s like glued to his spot waving goodbye sweetly and waiting for you to go inside so that he knows you’re safely in your apartment before leaving
bin sighing dreamily as he walks back to his and eunwoo’s place
eunwoo waiting on the couch with a glass of water: how was your date ;)
bin: it wasn’t a date, i just walked y/n home
eunwoo: yeah, but you want it to be a date
bin: ...shut up
god why is the pining stage so long
alright everyone knows you and bin like each other
it becomes pretty obvious after the swim meet
you and him fall into this little routine of switching who buys coffee for your 8 am
and then he’d walk you to your next class afterwards
you both still don’t pay attention in stats, sorry
but that means more outside study sessions dates
you come watch his swim meets, whether astro’s there or you’re just watching by yourself
and then you and him get lunch?? early dinner?? right afterwards, it depends on whenever his meet ends
but like??? neither of you have confessed your feelings for each other
even though you both have like a little hint that yeah the feelings are mutual
you and bin are literally like this for 3 months, like damn the semester is almost over
eunbi and eunwoo are tired of your shit, they’re both just like: when the fuck are they getting together? we’re sick of this.
alright so the masterminds literally pay one of eunwoo’s friends from his major to ask you out while you’re studying with bin
let’s do mingyu why not, he was in your korean history class last year
you and bin are in the library, half studying half goofing off per usual
eunwoo, eunbi, and mingyu are at the opposite side of the floor
mingyu: u sure bin won’t clock me for trying to ask out y/n
eunwoo: probably not??
eunbi: just do it please
mingyu giving them both the finger before walking up to your table
“hey y/n...i was wondering if you’d like to get dinner with me...as a date?”
you: o_o huh?
mingyu: i always thought you were cute from when we had class together last year, but i never had the balls to ask you out or anything...you’re not dating anyone, right?
you glance at bin to find that he’s already looking at you with an expression that you don’t really know how to read
you: um...well no I’m not-
bin: actually, we’re dating so y/n can’t go out with you mingyu, sorry.
mingyu’s not even phased, he just gives you a thumbs up and then leaves
you’re confused like literally what is going on—and then you process what bin said and you whip your head to look at him
bin: sorry i said that...i just felt...jealous i guess when mingyu asked you out
you: I wouldn’t have said yes anyway...I sorta like someone else
bin: fuck it, the topic already came up...y/n I’ve liked you for a while now but uh...I don’t know I guess I was scared to tell you because I’m scared of rejection
you just laugh, but not mockingly! more like bin you’re so cute wtf
“bin, why would I reject you when I’ve literally been into you for the past four months?”
it’s safe to say that you and bin officially began dating after that
eunwoo texting in their gc: bin and y/n are finally together
myungjun: fucking finally
bin: how...did u know that eunwoo...?
*eunwoo has left the chat*
alright but bin’s charm?? flirting?? teasing?? sweetness?? up 1000%
bin is touchy y’all, in private his hands are always on you, whether it be sexual or not sexual is up to you
he restrains himself in public ofc, the most he does is put a hand on your waist or hold your hand
eunbi threatens bin early on in your relationship: bin you’re like my brother, but y/n’s one of my dearest friends and if you as much make them cry i will kill you
ofc bin is still eunbi’s punching bag, but when you three are hanging out, he’s dramatic and acts like he’s hurt so he’s like whining to you
sometimes you play along and coo at him like: aww binnie, where does it hurt baby?
other times you’re like: you really think i believe that?? with the size of your biceps??
eunbi: excuse me while i vomit
okay but binnie? bestest sweetest boy
yes he looks all big and intimidating
but he’s soft—especially for you
your nicknames for each other are either “bub” or “baby”
yes will join in making fun of you with the boys, but when you start pouting he’s a goner and will defend you
bin is also a big cuddler, but i mean you’re not complaining hehe
he’s the big spoon, no questions asked
okay but being in bin’s arms is like your favorite place in the world
his frame literally just envelopes you and all you can feel and smell is him and it’s so??? content, you feel at home with him
you feel bad in the morning bc like his arm has to be sore from your weight so you try to like get out of his grasp, but he literally just whines and hugs you tighter
okay but just imagine you and bin napping and his arms are around your waist, his nose is buried in your neck and he wakes up like nuzzling his face in your shoulder like a puppy
im soft
one week you’re staying over at bin’s apartment and then the next week he’s staying over at yours, the cycle goes like that
if you’re one of my ladies with a ~vagíne~, he will buy all your cravings and your tampons/pads, literally anything you want that week, it is yours
doesn’t really get jealous now that you two are official, he knows that you’re his and he’s yours
you two lightly bicker like friends, but you’ve never had a terrible fight before
you were really close to though—or...like you did?? but it was resolved really quick
one of the only problems of bin is that he hates showing weakness and it takes him a whole lot to truly fully 100% be vulnerable with someone even if it’s someone close to him
he pulled a muscle in his arm and it cost him one of his swim meets
he had to go to rehab for like a month and you knew that mentally he’s been off bc of it
you try to ease talking him into telling you about how he’s really feeling but he just kept dodging the subject
one night after one of his rehab sessions, he came back to your place and you’re just like
“hey bubbie, how was rehab? how are you doing?”
and he just snaps at you: stop asking me how I am, y/n, it’s getting really annoying
you’re taken aback, like what the fuck where did that come from?
your eyebrows furrow and you cross your arms bc you are not going to get spoken to like that
“so me worrying about you and wondering how your recovery’s going is annoying? that’s what a partner is supposed to do, moon bin. what’s going on with you?”
bin: you’re being suffocating! it’s the only thing you ask me about nowadays, sometimes I—
oh boy you got mad
you: I ask you because I know you’re not telling me things! I know you’re suffering by yourself and I want to let you know that I’m here for you, I want to help take some of the pain away or at least help you deal with it because I’m your partner! but how can I if you can’t even let me in?? we’re fucking dating moon bin, we’re supposed to go through rough times together. and you call me suffocating...? 
bin’s silent and he’s looking at the floor
you sigh, tears are building in your eyes because you’re frustrated and a bit hurt by what he said, and your voice cracks when you speak again: if i’m suffocating you, then you should leave. text me or something when you can breathe again, I don’t know.
there’s a bit of spite in your words, hidden by the pain
bin sees the tears rolling down your cheeks and that’s when he knows he fucked up
he’s never seen you cry before—besides like from a sad movie or something
so like the fact that he made you cry and hurt you with his words? damn he hates himself rn
he immediately wraps his arms around you, and you like try to push him to get away bc why is he hugging you? didn’t he just say that you were suffocating? why is he confusing
bin: baby, I’m sorry...I shouldn’t have taken out my frustrations on you, you’re not suffocating me I promise...you’re right about everything, I should be sharing things with you and telling you how I’m really feeling...I’m sorry.
you don’t say anything and just like sniffle and he picks you up and brings you to your bedroom and then he just lets it all out
he tells you how rehab is hard and like yeah his muscle pain is going away, but he doesn’t know if he can swim as fast as he used to and that scares him
and he tells you that sometimes he’s thought of giving up swimming since his injury, but then he thinks of you and that’s how he’s still going through with rehab
you’re his motivator and comfort but he doesn’t want to show you his weak side bc he hates that part of himself
and at this point, bin starts tearing up and you’re like stroking his hair to try and comfort him
bin: I’m not good at telling my feelings baby...probably why I didn’t tell you I liked you until 4 months later...but I promise I’ll work harder and at least try and tell them to you.
ugh pain
anyway your communication with serious things got better after that encounter
eunbi finding out that you and bin argued and he made you cry and she literally punched his stomach
you: omg eunbi stop
bin: it’s okay...I sorta deserved that
eunbi: why...are you not swearing at me? shit, bin are you okay?
he nods to the girl and just puts an arm around your shoulder: we talked things through, don’t worry. I’m all good now, but I did deserve that punch because I hurt y/n when I promised you I wouldn’t
bin ends up having a full recovery and bam his first swim meet after he got the clear from the PT, he gets first place again
all the boys and you and eunbi were there supporting him
bin was hella nervous before the meet started, but you gave him a little good luck kiss and was like: I believe in you bub, no matter the result, as long as you give it your all and don’t hurt yourself again, you’ll be the winner to me :)
this was actually when the first “i love you” was said
after your little pep talk in the locker room, bin’s just hugging you and holding you for comfort
and he just went out with it
“I love you y/n”
you blush hella hard bc you were not expecting that
obviously you’ve been feeling it like yeah your feelings for bin have grown into love for a while now
you just bury your face in his chest and hug him tighter
“I love you too binnie, now go get em bub.”
he smiles and kisses you and tells you that he’ll see you after the meet is over
you come back to the crowd where the boys and eunbi are and you just have a huge smile on your face, you’re literally glowing
myungjun: please tell me you guys didn’t fuck before his swim meet
speaking of fucking
okay let’s get down and dirty ladies and gents wink wonk mmm grr bark bark
bin is so sexy y’all like i dont need to tell you that
he’s 100% a tease
you have a little muscle kink hehe
which bin very much uses to his advantage
if bin is wearing a sleeveless shirt, you bet he wants to smash that day
will walk around shirtless after a shower or after a workout just to turn you on and then depending on his mood, he might tease you for like an hour or you’ll just get right to it
he’s very proud of his body and the work he put into it and knowing that you get turned on from one look of it?? gives him an ego boost, he loves it
one time at a party, he wore a crop top (mm hello bad idea bin) and you literally went feral
you dragged him inside the nearest bathroom and just started making out
he’s an ass guy
...all of astro are ass guys, it’s just obvious with how much they slap each other’s asses and poke each other’s assholes
okay you know how he’s touchy right? i mentioned that earlier
he always wants you on his lap
even if there’s a space available, nope your seat is his thighs
ofc when the situation allows, like you’re not gonna sit on his lap in class duh
most of the time in public like if you’re hanging out with the boys or something, it’s innocent
but if he wants to be a tease, he’ll literally just tighten his grip on your hips and grind you down onto his cock
subtle, he won’t straight up thrust into you
just enough to get his dick stirring and make you feel the outline of it through your pants
and then he just stops and hugs your waist again?? wtf
his major’s exercise science right? will ask if he can practice on you for anatomy and physiology, but you know after touching you in a couple places, y’all will just end up fucking
likes to bite and mark
very proud seeing the hickeys he leaves on you
you can bite, but you can’t bruise, idk his upper body is exposed a lot bc swimming so you can’t really leave any marks on him unless it’s the off season
foreplay’s cool, but he prefers the main event, he just wants to be in you
as much as he loves doggy, his fav position is the hook
(it’s when your legs are on his shoulders ohoho and it just lets him fuck you in a deeper angle mmm)
also in the hook, he can choke you
if i have a choking kink, you have a choking kink
okay little tangent, choking is so hot?
like just imagine you and bin are making out, he pushed you against the wall, literally grinding his hips into you, and his hand just comes up and squeezes your throat? that’s so sexy
likes butt stuff oops
i don’t make the rules, he just does
daddy kink, but no power play
will not degrade you (even if you really just want him to call you his dirty slut) bc he really values seeing you as equals
seeing your face when you cum is a must
almost always: you cumming → bin cumming
nothing gets him off more than knowing that he’s making you feel good
after !! care !!
sweetest boy!!
will clean you up with a warm towel after sex
and if you’re one of my ladies, he will always remind you to pee so that you don’t get a UTI
if y’all had a marathon or something, he will draw a bath and carry you to the bathroom and you will bathe together, so soft
always ends sex with an i love you :’)
okay let’s get back to the soft stuff
special thing about swimmer bin: pool dates
sometimes when he’s practicing and it’s just him, he asks you to come to the aquatic center and you two end up splashing around and being cute together
he like knew that you were the one for him some time during senior year
it was the holidays and his parents invited you to spend christmas with their family since your parents were out of the country this break
his parents and sister liked you immediately—which you were so scared about, but bin just knew
you woke up early christmas eve (and bin was out like a rock) so you just went downstairs to brew some coffee or something and you saw that his mom was already starting on making food
naturally, you offered your help and she was like no, you’re a guest y/n, but obviously you started helping
bin comes downstairs like an hour or two later to see you, his mom, and his dad just cooking and listening to christmas music and talking and his heart just like swells??
you: morning binnie :)
his mom: how can you be sleeping when y/n’s here helping us with christmas dinner
his dad: what kind of boyfriend are you, son?
just kidding all jokes
but that’s the moment when he knew
best boyfriend bin ugh
he becomes a legend in the school for swimming
but doesn’t continue after college, he’s all about becoming a physical trainer after graduation
he goes to grad school, while you’re out working in business
bin moves in with you after graduating, it was the obvious next step
you do talk about the future together, but obviously bin’s still in school and you’re both fresh from undergrad so there’s no rush yet to tie the knot
doesn’t stop his or your parents from talking to you two about marriage tho oops
ugh but the domesticity after bin moves in with you? superb
like yeah obviously you both basically lived together anyway when he still roomed with eunwoo just from how much you and him spent at each other’s places
but like your apartment is now both of your place and it’s like your home is finally complete
your apartment becomes the reunion place for the boys and eunbi
at this point everyone knew you and bin were gonna get married eventually
eunwoo and eunbi: we did that ;)
and that’s how you and your college bf!bin live happily ever after uwu
happy birthday binnie moonbob ♥
1-25-21
174 notes · View notes
voiceless-terror · 4 years ago
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Oooo 16 mixed with 39 w Jon for the fluff/angst prompts?
Hello there, anon! Can you believe, that in all of my whump fics, I’ve yet to tackle the bread knife incident? High time we corrected that. The two prompts this is referencing are- “Do you need to go to the hospital?” and “If you don’t rest you won’t get any better.” Had this written for a bit, but I spruced it up and decided to post as I’m working on reconstructing chapters. Hope you like!
“Jesus Christ.”
“I-It’s not as bad as it looks.”
Admittedly, it doesn’t look great.
There’s a trail of blood following Jon to the sink, a bloody handprint or two on the counter (and probably a few door handles), and his shirt is similarly stained, the rumpled white button-up painted with red. The slice (more than a slice, probably a stab) to his arm bled more than he anticipated and is probably still bleeding under the towel he’s currently using to stifle the flow. Jon’s swaying where he stands; the loss of blood has him feeling weak, and the dizziness and dull throb in his head leftover from Michael hasn’t abated. All in all, he must look a mess.
Judging by Martin and Tim’s expressions, this is probably a fair assessment. Martin immediately goes to his side, though Jon flinches away as he tries to reach for his arm. He tamps down the guilt he feels at Martin’s look of rejection. “It’s n-nothing, really-”
“Nothing?” Tim scoffs, slowly making his way over as he dodges Jon’s mess. “We leave you alone for twenty minutes and suddenly you’re finger painting with blood. The hell happened?”
“Did you reopen one of your wounds?” Martin’s hands are hovering above his arm, like he’s trying to approach a skittish animal. “I told you not to pick at them-”
“Uh, n-no.” Jon leans against the counter- his vision’s starting to go, he should’ve sat down instead of puttering about like a fool. “It’s-it’s a new one.” Sufficiently cowed by Martin and Tim’s worried stares, he gently removes the towel with a hiss and yes, it’s still bleeding profusely. Damn. 
Tim hurriedly pressed the towel back down, leading him over to a chair as Martin lets out one of his disbelieving squeaks. Tim’s always been good in a crisis and Jon wants to lean into the touch but something in the back of his mind rebels against it, whispering paranoid nothings in his ear. Wrong wrong wrong. There’s something wrong, something bad. Find out. So instead he flinches out of his hold as soon as he’s sat down, ignoring the exasperated look this gets him and putting pressure on the wound himself. 
“What did you do?” he asks but Jon doesn’t meet his eyes, instead looking down at his lap. “How’d you get that?”
“A-A sandwich.” He can feel Tim’s stare, practically hears Martin’s fretting. “I-I was-”
“A sandwich,” Tim repeats, his voice deadpan. “A ham and cheese stabbed you.”
“No!” Words aren’t making sense, they’re hard to put together. He wants to lay down, he wants to sleep, he wants to be far away from these people and what they’ve done and what they might still do to him. “I cut myself...making a sandwich. W-With a knife. A bread knife.”
“A bread knife.” Martin’s talking now, his voice high-pitched and concerned. “A bread knife did that.”
“Where is it, then?” He wishes Tim would let up, would just take the story and leave him be, let him bleed.
“I-I put it back. I cleaned it and I put it back.”
“Let me get this straight-”
“For God’s sake, Tim- that doesn’t matter right now!” Now Martin’s at his side, hauling him up out of his seat with a steady hand that takes the brunt of his weight as he lists to the side. “Do you need to go to the hospital?”
“I-”
“Why am I even asking? Of course you do.” Martin’s muttering, already dragging him halfway out the door. “I’ll get us a cab. You two will just bicker the whole way. Take care of all this will you, Tim?” He gestures with one free hand to the mess Jon’s made and Tim just sighs wearily, nodding his head. He throws Jon one last glare but it’s weak and more worried than anything. He feels the guilt bubble up again. He should apologize for the inconvenience, tell them what happened, who visited. But then the voice creeps up, starting its chorus in the back of his mind.
He stays silent. He doesn’t speak as Martin takes more and more of his weight and the world tilts around him. He’s in a cab. Martin’s hand is warm and should be comforting but it isn’t. His arm stings and Helen’s gone and Michael’s laughter echoes and he can feel the worms burrowing back in, and over this cacophony of pain is the miserable choir singing wrong, wrong, something’s wrong someone’s there someone’s watching, waiting until they’ve got you alone-
He struggles in Martin’s hold but its weak and must seem more like a squirm of discomfort, for Martin doesn’t let go, just keeps up his murmured reassurances and his touches that sting like a thousand tiny needles.
He doesn’t know how long they’re at the A & E for. He barely registers Martin dragging him inside or talking to the nurses. He watches dispassionately as the wound’s stitched up, his other scabs disinfected from constant picking. Nobody lectures him or says much of anything- one mention of the Magnus Institute shut them right up. Jon is as much thankful as he is discouraged. He really is alone. He feels it even as he’s shoved back into Martin’s arms with a disingenuous smile and a ‘get well soon!’ 
Martin’s eyeing him critically as they wait for the cab; Jon’s too tired to fight at the probing hands that inspect the bandages. “Still your story, then?”
“Hm?” The world is hazy, but Michael’s laughter is starting to fade.
“Bread knife.”
“Oh...yes, yes it is.” He tries for some defiance but his voice is small and weary. Martin sighs in turn.
“You know you can tell me about these things, right? Me o-or Tim, maybe Sasha-”
Jon snorts. “Tell you when I’m making lunch?”
Martin’s face remains serious.  “If that’s what you want to call it, sure.”
Jon doesn’t want to have this conversation so he nods in a clear dismissal, sighing in relief as a cab pulls up outside. Martin reaches for the car door, helping him in before hurrying to the other side. Jon’s about to tell the driver to take them back to work when Martin interrupts in a no-nonsense tone, rattling off an address with a please and thank you.
It’s Jon’s address.
How does he know my address? Has he been following me? He is the one who found Gertrude’s body, after all. What if- what if-
“I can see your mind going a mile a minute, Jon. What’s wrong?” He startles, moving as far away from Martin as possible and hitting the car door with a wince. Martin continues, his eyes betraying nothing but concern as Jon’s mind spirals. “You’re not going back to work. You just got stitches-”
“How do you know my address?” The words are meant to be an accusation, but they just sound like the bark of a small dog. Martin seems to agree with this assessment because he rolls his eyes, running a hand through his hair. It takes him a moment to gather himself, and every second makes Jon’s heart beat faster until it’s rabbiting in his chest. What does he know, what did he do?
“You don’t remember, do you?” Martin sounds sad, disappointed. It hurts more than Jon would like to admit.
“R-Remember what?”
“You don’t remember the three times I had to do this, back when you were supposed to be on sick leave?” Jon blinks.
He doesn’t remember much of that time. He remembers the pain, the paranoia, the fear- all of it tuned up to a fever-pitch. Trying to go back to work and being promptly shooed out by Martin, who took one look at his limp and still-bleeding wounds and shoved him back in a cab. Was he covering his tracks? Is that why he didn’t want me around? He has the faintest memory of arms scooping him unceremoniously from the trap door to the tunnels at night, this time accompanying him in the cab and making sure he got home, since Jon had exited the cab early and snuck back several times before. It’s embarrassing and disconcerting, these gaps in his memory. Gaps that Martin has to fill. Martin, who he can’t trust. Martin, who’s talking right now. 
“- really, Jon- if you don’t rest, you won’t get any better. Tim tells me you’ve been skipping physical therapy, skulking about-”
“I don’t skulk-”
“Well, it’s sure as hell not sneaking if you leave a trail of blood wherever you go!” Martin’s voice raises in frustration, though it immediately quiets as Jon flinches, again. He heaves a massive sigh and pinches the bridge of his nose as if fighting off a headache. “We’re worried, Jon. We’re all worried. About you, about Gertrude, this whole mess- but you’ve got to talk to us. You’ve got to let the police do their job. And for the love of god, let us help you. Because-” he swallows, his next words earnest and spent. “-because we’re scared too. Okay?”
“Okay.”
Martin’s worried. Martin’s scared. Martin found Gertrude’s body. Martin’s always outside his office. Tim’s tired, Tim’s getting angry. Sasha smiles when she shouldn’t smile. Elias is up in his office, telling him everything’s fine and to rest but something’s watching, something’s wrong, Gertrude’s dead and someone killed her and someone’s coming for you next-
The next thing he knows he’s standing outside the door to his flat, Martin at his side. The door looks like a normal door, but Helen went through a door and didn’t come out. She didn’t come out, and Michael laughed, and there’s a war coming and he’s so stupid, so ignorant-
“Are you going to be okay?”
Jon takes the key from his coat pocket with shaking hands, shoving it in the lock. He doesn’t want to go in but he can’t stay out here, not with Martin who found Gertrude, who knows where he lives. “Y-Yes. You can go. Thank you.”
He’s inside before Martin can protest any further, slamming the door shut and leaning against it wearily. It looks like his flat, he hopes it’s his flat. Martin’s talking on the other side, asking him to call if he needs anything. Jon’s not going to do that, of course. He waits for the inevitable sigh, listens until Martin’s footsteps fade away. He’s safe, for now.
He locks the deadbolt.
ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28073586
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