#but he still went through some shit that's made him even more wary of outsiders
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What are your thoughts on humans?
Ask my muse anything you want on anon!
Sunstreaker immediately bristles, bunting his head lightly against Sideswipe's as he mutters, "Not a huge fan. They never treated us well. Tried to torture me. Act like all of us conspired to make their lives hell."
Sideswipe gives a sigh, leaning into his twin. "It was a lot. But hey, you found Bob. And we found each other again."
"Guess that's something."
#â ic â no one will ever be as entertained by us as us â˘#â asks â it is worse never to have tried to succeed â˘#â meme replies â it's the size of the fight in the dog that wins â˘#worth noting I don't follow comic canon for them so EVERYTHING that happened to Sunny just#y'know didn't#but he still went through some shit that's made him even more wary of outsiders#and not even REMOTELY fond of humans
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Hiii can I request mercy x Fem reader that refuse to get treated by her eventho she's really sick and cannot get up on her own. maybe she's scared or smth >< I kinda have a bit trauma from past experiences with visiting Dr so I kinda a bit scared of them loll but thank youuu
Feel free to ignore
I felt that, I didnât get treated right once for a kidney issue and had two different surgeries.
Off the Clock
Pairing: platonic! Mercy x Reader
Warnings: sickness, medical stuff
âFor the last time I am fine,â you grumbled as Cassidy stood in your doorway, a tray with the soup you asked him to get from your favorite restaurant.
âFine is the ability to come get this from where Iâm standing,â he held the bag out on the end of one finger, giving you a âcome get itâ look and a nod.
âBut I am just so comfortable here in my-â a coughing fit wracked your lungs, a burning ache filling your chest with each heave, âfucking hell.â
âYou sound worse than a dog with a stick in its throat,â he walked in, setting the soup on the nightstand next to your bed, âthereâs some mucinex in the bag too, but I think youâll need an exorcist to get anywhere near better.â
âThanks,â you roll your eyes, looking over at him, âcan I get a hand sitting up?â
He sighed and shook his head, helping you up, âgo to the doctor. If you canât even get up then there is definitely something wrong.â
You shook your head, holding up an âxâ with your arms, âCassidy, itâs just a cough and a head ache, please donât get a medic.â
âWhy are you being so stubborn? I need my field partner! You are the only one of these assholes I like out here!â
âCassidyâŚâ you look at him, a plea behind your eyes, âI donât do well with all that medical stuff. Please stop asking,â you folded your hands, not quite looking him in the eye.
He sighed, âI donât think itâs my place to ask about it, so Iâm not, but I need you to get through this, if not in three days, Iâm calling a damn doctor for you,â Cassidy made the âIâm watching youâ hand sign and left, leaving you with your sickness and soup.
The next day he went around the same time to check on you, hearing you blow your nose from outside the door.
âFeeling any- what the-â he stopped, looking around your room. There where tissues loose on the floor, and your face was a bit more pale than yesterday, your eyes carrying luggage instead of bags.
âI told you to get better! Not worse!â He set the tea he got you in the nightstand, walking towards the door.
âWhere are you going?â You tried to sit up but you slipped, wincing a bit as your back hit the bed.
âDoctor,â he cut short as he rushed out, closing the door behind himself.
About a 10 minutes later you heard a knock.
âDonât come in!â You groan, rolling over on your side as you let out another terrible cough.
âY/n this is for your own good!â
âCassidy I said no doctors damn it!â
âItâs not a doctor! Itâs Angela!â
âShe is literally a doctor!â
âNot of the clock she isnât! Her shift doesnât start for another ten minutes,â at that he entered the room, Ziegler in tow.
âCassidy I told you I donât do this medical shit-â
âI promise none of the âmedical shitâ I do is anything terrible,â her voice was soft, but you were still wary, âwe haven met yet in person, but Iâve heard much about you, hello, Iâm Angela.â
âAnd I am not the most gung-ho for you to be in my room,â As she approached the side of your bed you scooted away, noticing a small gun shaped device in her hand, âWhatâs that?â You look from the device to her.
She raised the device to her own forehead, clicking the trigger and showing you the small screen on the back, âitâs a touchless thermometer, Iâm only going to take your temperature, is that ok?â
You nod, settling a bit as she pointed it at your forehead.
âYou are running a high fever, and based on what Cassidy has already told me, you may have the flu,â she reaches into the bag she had with her and took out two sterile swabs, âIâm going to let you do this part, swipe the inside of both cheeks and as far back in your throat as you can.â
You do as told, handing them beck to her. She puts them into two test tubes, placing them into her bag.
âSee? That wasnât so bad. I only needed two things from you.â
âI guess, but that was just for my little sickness, what about if I where bleeding out or something?â
âThen it would be different I suppose,â she sat on the edge of your bed, â but would you trust that I would take care of you then too?â
You wanted to say no, to tell her that her efforts were fruitless, but she was so nice. She treated you with so much ease and kindness and you where so rude to her.
âI guess I would,â you tilted your head a bit, looking over at Cassidy who gave you a thumbs up.
âGood, Iâll have your results in an hour, if itâs anything bad, you donât have to call Cassidy anymore, youâve got an angel on your shoulder now.â
#overwatch#overwatch x reader#angela zeigler#angela ziegler x reader#mercy#mercy ow#mercy x reader#mercy x fem reader#angela Ziegler x fem reader
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K but liek for the muerdude au where is the seanest. R the ravens expected to play exy on land to make shit even more worse? Or is like Tetsuji one of those dogshit tiktok neglectful goldfish owner who keeps them in liek a 1m by 1m tank between all of em and puts steroid powder in they fish food? Or maybe are they kept outside in the most mangy tetanus filled pond ever? I need to know the amounts of animal? Child? Cruelty done on the Irl Angry Birds Team
original post ! The real Moriyama family business was merfolk poaching. Through the generations, they gathered wealth beyond belief controlling the market. But as time went on, the mers became scarse, and in some places, extinct. To stop the terror, a curse was put onto the family it's ramifications unknown - The effects will stay dormant as long as no more than 1 son will be birthed for each generation. The danger was never acknowledged, yet the men, wary of the danger, kept the line controlled. The women were killed, had a second pregancy been suspected. Till Kengo Moriyama refused to kill his wife. The man refused to continue century of irrational fear, and his wife was spared to carry their second baby to term. The pregnancy was not normal. The woman grew weak and the body inside her needed to be cut out - having grown too big to allow for natural birth. The blood loss made her fall into a coma, saving her form the sight of monster she gave life to. Riko was not a boy, not a human, just a serpent like monstrosity ... a mermaid. Struck by grief and anger, after the loss of his wife, but unable to just kill off the child, Riko was kept hidden at the ground of Moriyama property, in a shallow pond that stretched alongside one of the long walls of the residence. The pond was barely 3 feet deep in places, making him unable to swim as he grew bigger, with only one deeper area beyond red bridge that let him hide from the sun and prying eyes. Merfolk are rare, the most exotic species one can have. A symbol of status, a rare commodity. Renee is newly hired hitman for the Moriyama family. She quickly takes liking to the family's pet, and teached him new tricks. Will it lead to unplanned escape? Yes, yes it will. that said the au developed into something slightly different i still enjoy the fairytale bit basically riko is kept in way to shallow pond without any domestication in place then renee helps to rescues him into the mermaid sanctuary together with other foxes The pond was fancy and well kept but way to shallow for him! they wanted to make sure he was always easy to spot as a display pet they blackened his teeth and tatooed his eyes and face to make him look "prettier" so he looks freaky af to other meers he also can not speak due to the isolation he grew up with but later on aaron will help to teach and domesticate him
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harmless (xiii)
Summary: Bucky volunteers to go stop a small time villain, but nothing can prepare him for what exactly he has to deal with. (Bucky x villain!reader)
Warnings: cursing, frustrated bucky, dramatic reader, smidge of angst, guns, little bit of violence, obnoxious flirting, and kidnapping lol
Word count: 6.2k
A/N: welcome to chaos week >:) this is the first of three updates coming out this week (if i can finish the last one in time). big thank you to my love @no-shit-sherl0ck for the kidnaped!reader idea, and that one anon who suggested the inator thatâs used here. i know you wanted to see it in a zoo but i couldnât really figure out a way to use that so i referenced it a bunch in previous chapters. oh and also @ginevranightsâ for this specific imageryÂ
Previous Part  || Series Masterlist
Who the fuck kidnaps a villain in this day and age?
Saturday started normally enough.
Nat kicked Buckyâs ass in training, evening the score to 120 and 120. He blames it on the lack of sleep. She tells him that itâs his fault he stayed up late to binge watch 911 Lone Star.
He still thinks it was worth it.
The teamâs sunshines and rainbows that morning. Someone had cooked up a batch of pancakes and fresh orange juice. Someone else burnt the bacon but left to feed his dog before anyone could complain.
Nat opened up the newspaper. Different sections went to different people until Bucky got stuck with the entertainment section. Fun, considering that he doesnât even recognise half the names. Heâd have to pretend to be interested until the next rotation.
He watches the orange juice levitate in front of him from the corner of his eye and just assumes that Wandaâs getting a refill even though she could have just asked him to pass it. He smells the next batch of bacon burning and figures that Clint is back.
Samâs beside him, annoying him about how long it takes for him to read about which new celebrity relationship just ended and Bucky retaliates by reading even slower. Fuck you.
Heâs on his second stack of pancakes absolutely drenched in maple syrup when the doors to the elevator open and Marie steps out, laptop in her hand.
An instant chorus of helloâs and invitations to have some charred bacon resound through the table. She politely declines them with a small smile, instead opening her laptop and placing it in front of Bucky without further ado.Â
He looks at her questioningly, slowly swallowing whatever was in his mouth.
âAn email for you.â She tuts her head towards it. âIt has a video attachment of your friend.â
Bucky has plans to not watch the video in front of everyone, given that the content could range anywhere from you reading out fanfiction about him to a deep-fake of him singing a Whitney Houston song.
Both of which you have done before and would do again, without any hesitation.
âArenât you gonna watch it?â Wanda asks from across the table.
He slowly shakes his head no, cutting his stack into smaller pieces.
âIf whatâs in it is real, itâs important,â Marie stresses.
âWhatâs in it?â he inquires instead, hoping that the team would stop staring at him. If Marie was implying strongly that he needed to watch then something was wrong.
âJust watch it, man.â Samâs statement has everyone agreeing with him. Bucky canât refuse now, and if the team makes fun of him for the next month about how he looks good belting Greatest Love of All, heâs going to personally assassinate you.
He clicks on the email, noticing it came from a throwaway address. Probably untraceable, if the cards are played right.Â
The video opens to grainy footage, which is stupid considering modern technological advancements. If this is one more of your stupid LARPing sessions, it could definitely wait till after lunch.Â
But, he instantly recognises your silhouette strapped to a chair and suddenly the room feels very cold around him. His hand automatically clutches onto a bead from the bracelet you gave him that still remained tied to his left arm more often than not.
âSpeak,â someone commands off camera.
âAbout what?â You sound annoyed, exasperated even.
âWhy youâre here.â
âIâm here because you have unaddressed feelings of childhood insecurity.â
âI warned you to take this seriously.â
Buckyâs eyes widen slightly but his body relaxes the minute he reads the situation.Â
The teamâs crowded around him, he can feel it. His attention remains on the screen in front of him.
âWho even are you sending this to?â You donât sound the least bit threatened. âMy roommateâs not at home but my cat is and I donât think sheâd care.â
âYouâve made a complete joke out of villains everywhere. Fraternising with the enemies, the Avengers,â he spits the name with so much vitriol. âYouâve erased what itâs like to be truly evil. Turned us into a laughing stock.â
âIf it takes one person to undermine your whole movement then maybe it wasnât strong enough to begin with.â You look at someone outside the lens, face scrunching in distaste. âAlso your costumeâs ugly.â
âF.R.I.D.A.Y., can you trace this voice?â Bucky asks, receiving an immediate confirmation. âFigure out who it is.â
âOn it.â
âTell them. Tell them we are a serious threat and are to be feared.â
"No,â you say resolutely. âYouâre an overgrown manchild. Go watch Teletubbies or something.â
âShe does not give a shit,â Clint marvels at the situation, a piece of half eaten burnt toast between his fingers.
You didnât. And if he knew you in the slightest, which he prided himself on at this point, you already had six different ways of getting out of there.
âShe knows sheâs going to be fine,â Bucky murmurs, returning back to take a bite of his pancakes. âSheâs probably still there just to irritate him.â
He zeroes in on your wrist to see if the teleportation watch was still there but no, your wrists are bare. Guess you forgot.
âYou have to.â
âWhy?â
âBecause thatâs how a real villain does it.â
âA real villain- what are you, gatekeeping the villain community?â You scoff. âYou sound like a fuckinâ incel.â
âJust send them a message,â the guy bellows, hitting a table.
âSheâs going to frustrate them to death.â An accurate observation, Sam.
âOkay, jeez, fine.â
Bucky just knows that you rolled your eyes at that moment.
He had faith in you, or in your abilities at the very least. While every wisecrack could possibly inch you closer towards harm, you probably wouldnât be making them unless you felt completely secure in your situation.
âHelp, Iâm totally kidnapped and in danger. Save me because I canât do it myself. This man is too powerful and strong and sooo scary.â
âDo you think she has a strategy?â
âDefinitely.â
âYouâre not worried, James?â Wanda asks curiously. âI thought she was your friend.â
âShe is my friend.â He reaches over to take the jug of orange from across the table. âThatâs why Iâm not worried.â
âAre you going to fight the Avengers?â you interrupt his endless tirade. âBecause thatâs a stupid plan. You get how thatâs a stupid plan, right?â
âLet them come. Iâm prepared.â
âWith what? A stick you found outside? A Nerf gun? Man, youâve tied my hands with fuckinâ zip ties, you canât be serious-â
âShut up,â he roared and the stand shakes slightly from where he stamps his feet. âOur army is enough.â
âWow,â you exhale. âI wish I had your confidence, I really do. I want to study you under a microscope.â
âI have reinforcements.â It sounds like he turns to the camera to address it directly. âThis is a warning. Your friends have an hour to find you or things are gonna turn ugly. This is what real evil looks like.â
âEvil dresses in a dollar store Speedo, apparently.â The man pays you no heed, instead picking up the camera. âHey, sarge, if youâre watching this, donât bother. Iâm fine, itâs not even the real me-â
The camera cuts to black.
âWhen was this video sent?â Nat looks at Marie, eyebrows drawn together.
âAbout ten minutes ago.â
Bucky clicks out of the email, determined to get at least half his breakfast in him before he left to see whatâs up with your situation. A notification pops up immediately.
[email protected] just sent you an email.
A video attachment.
âWe got another one,â Bucky informs the team, drawing their attention back to the screen from the informal conversation that had erupted between them about what they could do.
This time, thereâs a subject line included.
Attack on the Clone.
"Ainât that a Star Wars movie?" he asks, craning his neck to look at Clint.
"That's Attack of the Clones," Sam corrects. "Probably autocorrect."
Bucky narrowed his eyes in suspicion at him, jaw sliding outward before falling back into place. Enough times had Sam called him Fucky in the group chat and gotten away with it for him not to be wary.
âOr a code,â Wanda suggests, too many crime thrillers read and podcasts listened in her spare time. She occasionally brought them over to Self Care Saturday, introducing him to the world of true crime as a bit of light content while they snacked on chocolate chip cookies he baked. âLike the Zodiac.â
âFor what?â Bucky peers over at her.
âAll I remember from that movie is them rolling around a field together,â Clint mutters. âMaybe thatâs how youâre supposed to save her.â
âIâm not saving anyone. Look at her, sheâs fine.â Is he the only one who saw it?
When heâs met with skeptical looks and no other useful suggestions, he presses play on the video.
This time it's clearer footage. It hardly takes him a second to ascertain where it was.
"That's her lair." It showed the pathway leading up to the flat concrete building, exactly where the intercom should be.
There was a black Sedan parked haphazardly outside, engine still on judging by the sound of the radio blasting an AC/DC song.Â
Within a few seconds, someone drags you from the entrance of the lair to the car, despite your very clear protests and opposition, shoving you inside before it takes off in full speed, tires screeching.Â
"F.R.I.D.A.Y., track the car from that video. Check all the CCTV and surveillance footage from around the area that you can find," Bucky commands, taking a sip of orange juice. Â
"Why would they send us that?" Clint pipes up. "They make their email untraceable but send us a video of the fuckin' abduction itself?"
"I don't know." Bucky shakes his head, setting his glass down. "She probably convinced them to."
It was an unusual scenario, he realised that. But his eyebrows lower in contemplation, his lip caged between his lip before a thought suddenly occurs to him. A laugh in disbelief almost escapes his throat ad he pushes it down with some freshly cut strawberries.Â
"And they listened?"
"I don't think you realise how annoying she can be." He knows, though. He knows. "Bet they regret it, though. I should tell them to keep her for a little longer."
"Voice recognition registers voice to someone named Chad, better known by his alias Soul Crusher. Surveillance footage places the car about thirty minutes away. Exact location sent to your phone GPS."
Soul Crusher. That was worse than Dr. Strange.
"I can make that fifteen." Bucky shrugs, setting down his fork and knife. If his hunch is right, the team didnât really have to get involved. âSee you guys later.â
âDo you want any of us coming with you?â Wanda gestures to the crowd at hand.
âI got it.â He pushes away from the table, depositing his plate in the sink, dropping an extra piece of bacon on the ground for Clintâs dog. âSheâll be alright.â
They watch him trail out of the room briskly, heading up to his room to change.
âIs it just me or is he too casual about this?â Clint continues staring long after he leaves.
âBoth of them are weirdos.â Nat pulls open the newspaper again, going back to the sportâs section. âWho knows what goes in their heads.â
âCan confirm that not a lot goes on in his.â
Without Bucky to retaliate or grumble, a Steve walking into the room, sweaty and shiny after training becomes the new subject of jokes that morning.
__
For the first time in months, heâs had to bring a weapon or two along with him. Two revolvers and a couple of knives kept out of plain view. He wouldnât need more than that anyway.
True to his word, it takes only fifteen minutes to get there, thirteen if he didnât stop for the chain of ducks that crossed the street.
Heâs also dressed in a little more leather than he usually reserves for your meetings. A jacket that brings to act as a windbreaker and tightly laced up combat boots make him look like he either stepped off a runway, or more menacing than usual depending on who was looking.
The GPS points him to an old warehouse near a more subdued part of the city. It was abandoned by the looks of it, and had been for a while judging by the lack of upkeep. Prime real estate.
He pulls off his helmet, hanging it on the handlebar along with his backpack before kicking the stand into place. The bikeâs a few metres away just in case they decide to blow something up.
Bucky looks up at the warehouse, assessing the most damage he could do to it if at all it was needed. That thing could barely stand on its own, a grenade would absolutely decimate it. That wasnât good news for you.
He sighs once before putting on his death glare, straightening out his shoulders into a stature that screams stone-cold, and pushes the door open, gun raised.
A mini-army of people ranging from their early twenties to late thirties stood guard at the entrance, all with rifles pointed at him. He counts fifteen, maybe eighteen.
âOh, hell no,â a voice erupts from the back, followed by the sound of his gun being thrown to the ground. âNo one told me that he was coming.â
Bucky raises an eyebrow, his death glare not shifting and Glock not lowering.
âIâm out.â The same guy raises his hands up to show he meant no harm, slowly brushing past Bucky as he squeezed out of the building.
âYou got five seconds to leave before I shut this door,â Bucky gives the rest of them an ultimatum. Not like there was a point anyway. SHIELD was sending down some people to account for the one day rise in new morons.Â
They all looked at each other, swallowing thickly before raising their weapons.
âI hope heâs giving you good insurance.â The second he finishes his sentence they all cry out in what sounds like a fucking war chant, launching themselves at him.Â
______
âTheyâre here.â Someone presses his ear to the door as if the gunshots and screaming werenât enough.Â
âBrilliant. Weâre ready.â Chad picks up the knife, running his finger along the sharp end. You try to see if you can use your Twitter-ordained powers of manifestation for a paper cut.
âHow much are you asking them for?â You put forth a query instead, when it disappointingly doesnât work.
âAsking who for what?â Chad stops his dumb intimidation tactic for a second.Â
âYou know,â you insist like it was obvious, âmy ransom. How much did you ask them to pay?â
âWe didnât-â He looks around at the other people in the room for confirmation. â-we didnât ask for any.â
âBecause Iâm invaluable?â Your head droops to the side in mock flattery. âAw, you guys.â
âWe didnât think of it,â someone from the corner behind you speaks up, coming to the aid of their boss.
âNow thatâs just rude.â You tut, shifting maybe an inch or two in your bounds to try and get more comfortable. âLeaving aside your lack of preparation, letâs just assume he bursts in here, desperate and ready to bargain. How much would you ask for?â
âThree million,â Chad says confidently, gathering a nod and sounds of agreement from everyone else.
âAre you serious?â Your jaw drops, a scoff escaping you. âThatâs all?â
His self-assurance falters a little bit, you can see it under his 5 Minutes Craft mask.
âThree mill-â You stop mid-sentence. âWith this wiring? Ridiculous. Make it ten, I demand it.â
âWeâll ask for fifteen mil,â Chad proposes, his teammates agreeing again, a little more delighted than last time.
âAsk for thirty, you coward,â you argued. âThirty million and a jet.â
âYouâre not worth that much.â The dipshit diagonal to you pipes up with his unwanted and, frankly, useless opinion.
âAnd you are?â You whip around the best you can. âHenchman number four?â
âMegedagik,â he informs, standing up a little taller now that he was given some importance. âIt means âkiller of manyâ.â
âDid you just say your name was Mega Dick?âÂ
âMegedagik,â he corrects.
You stare at him hard before turning away. âAlright, other than Mega Dick here, does anyo-â
A knife lands right next to your feet, driven at least an inch into the ground. You look up at the guy you managed to piss off within four sentences, his face now a beet red.Â
âThese are brand new, asshole,â you barked, shaking your shoes around. âYouâre gonna pay if thereâs even a scratch on it.â
âPermission to kill her?â Meg growls, casting a side eye at Chad.
The boss man looks at you thoughtfully, assessing the repercussions of what might happen. You raise an eyebrow.
âSlow and painful,â he settles.Â
A small smirk makes its way onto your face.Â
âTitle of your sex tape,â you quip as the man in the corner storms towards you.
_____
Itâs all a flurry, really. A bunch of inexperienced newcomers versus one of the most skilled assassins the world had ever seen? Ten minutes tops.
Bucky doesnât do any serious damage. A couple of broken bones but only out of necessity, a lot of concussions, and maybe a bullet wound, or three, here and there.Â
Most of the time he spends thinking about things that have absolutely nothing to do with what was going on. He forgot to take his laundry out of the machine. There was a biscotti recipe he had been procrastinating on trying. His succulents needed watering but he could do that once he was back. Was he wearing his good combat pants or was it the pair that had a hole in the pocket?
His left hand thrust outwards to shove someone away while he stuck his right hand into his pocket to check if it had frayed away. The person he pushed slams into a wall with a loud groan and no, his pants didnât have a hole in them.Â
He stops to take a breather, assess what was going on. There are bodies scattered all around, mostly writhing in pain from minor injuries. Someone very bravely stands up, hands posed in front of him in a regular fighting stance.
âYou sure about this?â Bucky asks, reaching for one of the concealed knives he hadnât had a chance of using yet. It twirls rather nimbly between his fingers for something so dangerous, the hilt finally landing in his palm for a sturdy grip.
The man takes one look at the knife before sitting right back down on the ground.Â
âGood choice,â his voice drops to an octave lower than his self-esteem. Heâs tired of this old routine but it works like a neat little party trick, often getting him the result he wanted. âWhere?â
A few fingers point down the hall to the only room whose door was closed.
He makes sure to step over everyone who was lying along the way, ears tuned in to even the smallest of noises just in case one of them decided to attack him from the back. It doesnât come.
He doesnât bother creeping down the hallway. With all the ruckus that just went on outside, heâs pretty sure itâs obvious that they had an intruder.Â
Bucky kicks in the large steel door with ease, given that it was barely hanging on its hinges. His gunâs raised, muscles tight, and senses on high alert for any immediate threats.Â
It lands with a large thud, reverberating through the room. Heâs reminded of your first meeting with him.
Thereâs a chair in the middle of the room with a person tied to it by a mixture of rope and tape. Others found themselves slithering around on the floor in a similar fashion, trying to get out of their bondages.
âHey, James,â you call out, drawing his attention to you. You were sitting atop a table, legs swinging back and forth without a care in the world, a blade in your hand.Â
âYou okay?â He tucks the gun into his waistband when he realises that none of the henchmen are going to be going anywhere soon.
âAll good.â You hop off the table with a little spring in your step. âDid you bring your bike? I need a ride back to the lair. I think I left the TV on when I was, you know, getting kidnapped.â
âYou coulda teleported back home before all of this even happened.â Bucky does a quick assessment of your body to make sure there werenât any bruises or anything of the sort. âAvoided the whole thing.â
âDonât have the watch with me.â Odd, since he knows you consider it one of your essentials but it just fuels his theory further. âBesides, if I just quit before we started, theyâd keep messing with me over and over again.â
âDo you want me to punch someoneâs face in?â He glances around the room at the ones wiggling about on the floor like fucking worms. âIâd be happy to.â
âNah, I got a few in myself.â You rotate your wrist, other hand still holding onto the knife. âYou know what, maybe Iâll have another go.â
He simply makes a noise in acknowledgement before he places a hand on the hem of your shirt, gently reeling you back. âI think you fixed âem up real good. Thatâs enough for today.â
âFine but only âcause you said so.â You huff, looking past him and at the weirdos on the ground. âYou hear that? This man just saved your life. Say âthank youâ.â
A muffled chorus of what sounded like appreciation echoed through the room. Bucky awkwardly looks around.
âDamn right.â You walk over to the guy in charge of the whole event, bending down to his level. âIf you ever try to fuck with us again...â
You stare straight into his eyes, unblinking. You hold up the knife to his Adamâs apple. Chad doesnât dare to move other than the thick swallow.
You raise your finger and flick him in the forehead. âGet a better costume.â
The corner of Buckyâs lip quirks upward.
âLetâs go, sarge,â you announce, standing upright again and making a motion to follow you. âDâyou have an extra helmet I could use?â
âYeah.â He had brought one along in his bag, assuming that youâd need one once he noticed the watch was missing in the footage. Â
âYay.â
The only storage space on his bike was under his seat and itâs just enough for an extra revolver. Clint asked him if it was his way of flirting with someone, give âem a quick spin around the city and then show them his gun. If looks could kill, Clint would be 7 feet under.Â
âYou sure you wanna ride it, though?â He cringes immediately when he realises what it sounds like, waiting for you to smack the innuendo in his face. âWe could wait for SHIELD.â
âDonât really have another choice, Bucky,â you say absentmindedly, strolling out the room as you tossed the knife behind you.
He frowns at your indifference but turns around for a second to look at Chad. The man in question looks back viciously, his grandeur from that morning basically deflated and left to die along with his reputation.
âMight wanna reconsider the name,â Bucky remarks, doing a quick sweep of the area once more. âSoul Crusher.â
He waits until both of you are outside the cell and the door is shut on the ringleader and his circus clowns, handlebar twisted out of place so that they donât escape for the time being.
âOne second,â he calls, touch gently lingering on your forearm to stop you without even thinking twice about it. A famously uncharacteristic move for him.
"Hm?â You donât even look like you notice his action.
âYou sure youâre good?â he asks seriously, actual concern slipping through the question. âDo you need medical assistance?â
âThey couldnât hurt me anyway.â Thereâs something strange about the way you say it, almost assuredly. âIâm good.â
âOkay,â he concedes, his hand darting back when he realises it was still on your arm. His eyebrows furrow when he realises how instinctively he had reached out in the first place. Â He didnât touch anyone, ever.
âWhat are we gonna do about them?â you inquire, stepping over someone on the floor to get to the exit.
âMarie told Agent Hill. Theyâre sending someone over.â
âTheyâre sending SHIELD for these wannabes?â Someone groans in protest from somewhere and you elect to ignore them. âEw.â
âJust to make sure confidential information isnât compromised in any way.â Thereâs a large bang that comes from the room they just left. Maybe one of them shot their teammate by accident. They were more than capable of doing it.
âI would never,â you exacted a little more solemnly, pushing the door open with your elbow to let the sunlight flood in.
âI know.â He doesnât realise how dark it was in the warehouse until he steps out into the noon sun. âIâm pretty sure this is more about the fact that you were abducted.â
âFor me?â The smile doesnât quite reach your eyes the way he kinda likes. Something definitely felt off. âI love being class favourite.â
He doesnât reply, a small grunt as he twists the handle of the warehouse door upwards, effectively jamming it.Â
âCan I drive?â You bat your eyelashes at him innocently, disregarding the loud screaming that came from inside as those less injured probably regrouped for a last ditch attempt.Â
âNo,â he doesnât hesitate in replying, handing you a helmet and buckling his own securely.
âBut I just got kidnapped,â you complained, watching him swing a leg over the bike and straddle it. Okay then.Â
âAll the more reason for you not to drive right now.â He mentions for you to get on, squinting at the warehouse a few feet away.
âFine, but next time Iâm driving,â you grumble, climbing on the back.
âDo you even know how to?â His head is tilted to look at you from the corner of his eye, voice heavier on account of the obstruction on his face.
The door starts shaking violently and he knows for a fact that it wonât hold up for much longer. Some of those who he had knocked out probably had been shaken awake again for manpower.Â
âI can learn.â You take a pause, mischief seeping into your next words. âYou can teach me.â
âNo.â He didnât exactly practice what was considered safe, law abiding driving. He just got from one point to another and thatâs all he cared about.
âThen Iâll do it myself.â You sound determined. âIâm going to leave a note for us in the lair.â
âYou do that.â He revs the engine when something solid hits the metal door. As guessed, their usage of props to push it down faster was coming into play. âNow, can you hold on to something? We need to go.â
If only those idiots just realised that the windows covered by newspapers were right there, ready to be broken.
âOnly if you promise to let me drive next time,â you say defiantly, drawing this whole ordeal out.
âWhatever,â he urges. âI promise. Now can we go?â
âWait for it...â Thereâs a devilish smile on your face. âOne.â
Thereâs a loud creak as the door finally gives way.
âTwo.â The same people you left tied up in the room burst out, almost stumbling over each other in the process.
âThree,â he completes it on his own, not waiting for you to finish because God knows how long youâd stretch it out just for the drama.
Your excited screech of laughter as he narrowly misses a rod that gets thrown at him like a fucking javelin temporarily distracts him from the brain freeze he gets when your arms wind around his waist to hold yourself in place.Â
Thereâs angry screaming and bullets that whiz past in an attempt to get him to stop but a swift turn around a corner, pulling the both of you out of their sight is enough to get rid of them.Â
âWe should get a few weapons and go back,â you yell over the wind rushing by, barely audible.
âYou do that in your own free time,â he shouts in response, yanking you through narrower lanes and less popular streets.
âMaybe I will, you bore.âÂ
Still, you shut up for the rest of the ride, only grumbling when he stops the bike to tell you that no, you cannot let go just because you want to throw your hands in the air like in the movies.
You hop off when he finally pulls up on the street outside your lair, adrenaline still pumping through your veins. He waits patiently as you unbuckle the helmet, switching off the engine.Â
âYou gonna drop me off at my door too, now?â You snicker, fingers pulling off the helmet.
He looks at you for a second before dropping the kickstand into place and dismounting from the motorcycle.
âI was kidding.â You laugh, handing him your headgear that he shoves into his backpack.Â
âYouâre pretty capable of gettinâ abducted along the way.â An absurd notion, considering itâs a short path from the road to the door.Â
âOh, how chivalrous.â You let him tag along anyway, for his peace of mind.Â
âMy ma didnât expect any less.â A couple of sharp lessons from Winifred Barnes and Bucky was nothing short of a damn angel.Â
You knock on the door three times, crossing your arms over your chest as you waited.Â
âArenât you the one with the key?â Bucky questions, one hand on his waist.Â
The door swung open in the middle of his sentence revealing... you.
Another you.
âNah, she has it.â Ex-Kidnapped-You raises your head in acknowledgement at Doorway-You.
âAh.â He fucking knew it. An unnatural sense of smugness blossoms in his chest.Â
âHey,â the both of you said at the same time.
Doorway-You looked way more relaxed, a little less grimy and dishevelled but exactly the same.
âBuck, I see you met my other half,â the you from the doorway greets him. âOr other whole, actually.â
âSure did.â He sends a glance at Ex-Kidnapped-You.
âYou can go on in. Big first day, huh?â Doorway-You refers to the you beside him.
âYou wouldnât believe,â Ex-Kidnaped-You mutters, pushing past the entrance and disappearing inside.
âShe gonna be okay?â His gaze trails after your clone.
âOh yeah, just needs to recharge.â You turn around to make sure sheâs fine. âSheâs made of some pretty strong carbon, technically almost indestructible.â
No wonder âyouâ said they couldnât hurt you.
âHeya, sarge.â You draw his attention back to you. âAlways good to see you.â
âCanât really say the same about you.âÂ
âEver the emotional repressor, Mr Barnes. I like this little leather show you got going, did ya wear it just for me?â
He shifts his balance to his other foot, feet slightly wide apart. âTake it that the clone machine finally worked?â
âI was in the middle of celebrating.â You sigh, recalling the events of that morning. âTeleported home for a second to get some champagne and when I came back she was gone.â
âIrresponsible.â He tsks, head shaking in disappointment.Â
âSorry I didnât take amateur kidnappers into account for my risk factor analysis, Bucky,â you shoot back, pressing on his name for added annoyance. âAnyway, I did the responsible thing. I sent all the evidence I had to you guys.â
âReal clever.â Bucky looks at you in dry amusement. âAttack on the clone? Really?â
âHey, always make time for a good pun.â You finger gun, lopsided grin on your face. âDid the team like it?â
âThey thought it was a typo.â Or a code. He really had Wanda to thank for his big revelation. âYour video didnât help either.â
âDonât tell me they couldnât make out it was me.â You laugh, crossing your arms over your chest.
He doesnât reply, pursing his lip inwards in sympathy, but more so to conceal a smile.
The happiness drops from your face slowly, horror taking its place. âDonât tell me they couldnât make out it was me.â
âGood job, your machine worked,â he adds helpfully.
âCâmon, there were so many differences,â you whine, the success of your endeavour the last thing on your mind.Â
âThat is your literal clone,â he points out, only to see you- clone you- walk into the giant box in the corner of the room, bright green light emanating from it like a xerox machine.
âHow could they not tell the original apart from a copy?â You look genuinely offended. Insane. âNot even Sam?â
âGuess youâre not unique enough.â A rise and fall of his shoulders signify his attitude towards this whole thing. âThink I like your copy better, too, actually.â
âYouâre so mean.â You puff in disbelief. âIâm a 100% original. How many mad scientist teachers do you know?â
âTwo.âÂ
âI donât mean now, thatâs not even the-â You poke at his rock hard chest. âYou are so much more annoying than when I first met you.â
He thinks itâs good relationship development.
âI have to deal with you every weekend.â He watches your finger drop from his chest. âPicked it up along the way.â
âBoo hoo, talking like you donât have deep, deep feelings for me.â You roll your eyes. âI see right through you, Bucky Barnes.â
âCan you see the part that couldnât give less of a shit?â He gestures to himself. âItâs all of it.â
âYou think youâre such a comedian, huh?â You narrow your eyebrows. âHow did you know she was a fake then, huh?â
Busted.
âProbably âcause you didnât talk as much today,â he dodges. âActually had some peace of mind for a change.â
âYou knew before you got there, you liar.â You push past his fabrications. âYou figured it out before everyone else.â
âYou literally put it in the title.â
âYeah, but the rest of the team saw it too.â
âRest of the team didnât know you were building a goddamn clone machine for months.â
âYou remembered that?â You pulled away, palm over your heart. âOh, sarge, you paid attention to me.â
His nose twitches.
âYou said it, like, eight hundred times.â He could use both his hands to count the number of references you had offhandedly made in the last three weeks alone.
âWhy'd you go save me when you knew it wasn't real?â you continue to challenge relentlessly, knowing fully well that he was fibbing.Â
âBecause you fuckinâ peer pressured me. Had the whole team around me when you sent your little video during breakfast.â
âJust admit it,â you coo, ignoring all his justifications. âYou noticed it was fake me right away but showed up anyway because youâre wildly in love with me.â
âNo,â he says stiffly.Â
âNo as in you wonât admit it you have a crush on me, or no as in you didnât know it was fake me?â
There was no winning this.Â
âGood day to you.â He pulls the motorcycle helmet on to hide the expression that plain as day screamed the former of your two options.
âAlso,â you bring up indignantly, âshe even got to ride the fucking bike and Iâve been asking to drive it for months now!â
âWe-â he chooses his words carefully. â-compromised.â
âOh, you did?â Your voice lowers at the newfound information, interest piqued. âIâm gonna hold you to that then, whatever it is.â
âDoesnât count.â
âAbsolutely does,â you huff. âA promise is legally binding. Blueâs Clues taught me that.â
âBye, Y/N.â
âYouâre my knight in leathery armour,â you swoon, switching sides immediately, âKinda.â
âSee you next week,â he says in farewell, determined to leave before you made it worse. âTry not to get killed by then.â
âWhy, so you can do it yourself? Protective much?â You pull him back when he starts walking away, laughing slightly. âWait a second, you weirdo.â
He sighs, staying put anyway, arms crossed impatiently over his chest.
You pull out the pen tucked behind your ear and slowly tap him twice on each shoulder in a makeshift knighting ceremony. âFor your sacrifice.â
He rolls his eyes at the ludicrousness, tongue clicking against the roof of his mouth.
You ignore his lack of enthusiasm, pressing your fingertips to your lips in a small kiss and then to his nose, given that it was the only part of his face you had access to.
âThat was for your bravery.â You grin brightly at him and he sure as hell is glad heâs wearing the stupid helmet because he can feel his cheeks light up a bright crimson.
âThanks.â His voice sounds gruffer than a second ago. He clears his throat.
âNow youâre my knight in leathery armour,â you fawn, nearly falling over yourself dramatically. âLetâs ride into the sunset together. I love you.â
âYouâre ridiculous,â he calls out over his shoulder, turning away to return to his bike. âI despise you.â
âBut you donât.â
He really didnât.
also i managed to fuck my phone up really bad so all proceeds from my ko-fi go towards getting it fixed
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#bucky x reader#bucky barnes x reader#mcu fic#bucky fic#bucky barnes fic#bucky fluff#bucky barnes fluff#bucky angst#bucky barnes angst#harmless fic#winter soldier x reader#Winter Soldier#bucky barnes#bucky
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A Birthday Gift
Pairing: Nomad!Steve x fem-Reader
Word Count: 5665 (I know, I know)
Summary:Â Â The nomad crew have been holed up with you for months and tensions are high. Nat, being an unrepentant pot stirrer, decides to arrange a pleasant birthday surprise for you.
Warnings: Explicit language, explicit sexual content, explicit descriptions of consensual violence, SMUT! PORN! 18+!
A/N: Hello my fellow hoes and sluts! My birthday is today and it has me in some kind of mood, so I hunkered down and blasted out this fic. @stargazingfangirl18ââs lovely Tree Trimming fic has my holes quivering for some hot Nomad sex, so please sit back and enjoy my birthday present to all of you!
You had always hated your birthday.
Fortunately, Nat was completely willing to take your mind off it with a good sparring match. The snow was falling heavy outside of the large windows on the side of the gym, but the minor exertion was keeping you pleasantly warm. Youâd been on the mat for almost an hour, but you still couldnât seem to get your mind to focus.
Of course, it didnât help when Rogers came in, glowering, to work the bags, giving you a wary look before he settled into his routine.
Nat and the rest of the team had been with you for almost 3 months now. When she had called you after the events in Berlin, to arrange a potential safehouse for her and her compatriots, you of course offered to have them join you at your isolated lodge on the SnĂŚfellsnes peninsula. You were as off the grid as they come, and with the help of your Wakandan friends, still able to provide the modern creature comforts you were sure they had become accustomed to at the Avengers compound.
You had missed Nat, after all. It had been almost 7 years since you last saw her, but the grin she gave you when they landed in the early Autumn made it seem like sheâd never left. You got to know everyone else over the months as well. Sam and you bonded quickly after you introduced him to Aquavit and spent the next 2 days helping him slowly move back to solid foods. Vision of course took everything that happened in stride, and while you couldnât say you were friends, you had developed a mutual respect for each other. Wanda took longer to warm up (understandable after everything she had been through) but when you told her about the time you had spent in Sokovia, she quickly came out of her shell, and the two of you would often stay up through the night reminiscing about your homes. Even Barnes had softened once he got a look at your weapons room and you took it out to the Fjord to test out some next gen tech Shuri had sent you.
The only problem was Rogers.
No matter what you tried, it seemed that every time you got near him his hackles went up. You could feel him watching you constantly, and whenever you met his gaze, he would simply clench his jaw and stalk off like a cat.
âHeâs just overprotective.â Nat always said. âHeâs a big papa bear protecting his cubs. Heâll warm up.â
You snapped back to the present as Vis and Wanda wandered into the gym chatting idly. She had convinced him to join her out in the snow for a brisk hike, and was now laughing lightly as she brushed a dusting of soft flakes off his shoulders. Bucky was working his way down from the weights level, patting his neck dry with a towel. You heard the pounding on the bags stop, and glanced over to see Rogers unwrapping his hands as he stared at you, but this time he didnât break eye contact when you met his gaze.
Those deep blue eyes disarmed you, and you lost your concentration for a split second. Nat seized her opportunity and crawled up your back, wrapping he legs around your neck and shoulders to try to get you into a submissive position. You tried to regain your composure, but your instincts kicked in for just a moment, and when you drove yourself back into the mat to break her hold, you landed quite a bit harder than you intended and thought you heard a snap as she gasped out in pain.
âShit, Nat you good?â You scrambled onto your knees and looked at your friend with concern. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Rogers striding over, jaw clenched and brow furrowed. Vis and Wanda stopped their conversation to glance over and Bucky moved quickly to intercept his best friend with a hand on his chest.
Nat broke the tension with a laugh, and everyone in the room relaxed. âGod, Y/N, guess youâre still an aggro bitch. I though I mightâve had you for once.â
âJesus, Nat. Iâm sorry, lemme grab you some ice. Anything broken?â
âDonât think so, just a bruised ego. Look at you, you havenât even broken a sweat.â
You tossed a pack to her from the freezer, along with her typical post spar electrolyte drink. She gave you a wink as she pressed the pack to her ribs, and you could only shake your head at her.
âSteve, you wanna take over for me?â She said to the large man who was now leaning against one of the windows, only half listening as Barnes tried to distract him, while glaring at you.
You both snapped your heads around to stare at her and started protesting over each other while she grinned back and forth between you.
âThatâs probably not a great ideaâŚâ
âDonât want to hurt herâŚâ
âOh my god, you two are ridiculous. Y/N, you obviously still have to work out your birthday issues, and Steve, youâve been complaining for the past 3 weeks that me and Buck are getting too predictable.â
âY/N, itâs your birthday? We should bake you a cake!â Wanda exclaimed, always the little ray of sunshine.
âThatâs ok Wand, please donât.â
âShould we perhaps sing?â Vision was now adding his two cents to the discussion.
âNo singing. Thank you, so much, for that, Nat.â
âSheâs right Rogers, youâve been looking pretty bored during our sessions, change of pace might be good for you.â
While you were eternally grateful to Bucky for getting the topic off of your birthday, you really didnât think Rogers was going to go for this.
âFine, weâll give it a shot.â
You looked at him with surprise, but gave a shrug and nodded. You definitely still needed something to take your mind off the day. You loved Nat, but always felt the need to hold back during your sessions, and it might be nice to take the safety off.
Nat looked like the cat that ate the canary for some unknown reason, as she giggled and clapped her hands before setting down onto one of the stools to observe. Bucky looked relieved as he leaned back against the wall, chugging the contents of his water bottle. Wanda and Vis went back to their flirty conversation, content to let you two do your own thing.
You unzipped your hoody and threw it to the side, stretching your neck and bouncing on the balls of your feet to loosen up. Rogers looked you over, eyes lingering over your tattoos that you realized heâd never seen since most of them were easily covered by a long sleeve shirt. He pulled his own sweatshirt over his head, and you had a hard time not taking a second to appreciate just how good his torso looked in a simple grey tee.
âJesus, you two, just get to it.â
The look you shot Nat was pure poison. You werenât sure what her game was, but youâd be sure to break out the vodka later tonight and get it out of her.
You squared up with the captain, keeping a loose stance on the balls of your feet while he brought up his fists and shrugged his shoulders.
His first strike seemed sluggish, and you slapped it aside easily, frowning at him. He shuffled forward, throwing a few more jabs that you also dodged. Was he holding back on you?
The next few shots he tried to take all but confirmed it; he was pulling his punches. You ducked around them easily, starting to get frustrated. You stepped inside his reach and delivered three quick strikes to his abdomen, followed by an open-handed push to the center of his chest, causing him to take two steps backwards.
His eyes narrowed at you. He was just hoping to get Nat and Buck off his back. Nat had been trying to get him to interact with you for months, but there was something about you that set off warning bells in his head. He trusted Nat and Nat trusted you, which should have been good enough, but he couldnât get over the thought that there was something dangerous about you that he couldnât figure out. Heâd hoped that a quick spar would appease Nat and get whatever was bugging him about you out of his system, but he had expected you to be on Natâs level of physicality. The contemptuous way you slapped his blows aside, and the way you got under his guard fast, only made him more wary.
You saw him adjust his stance and tucked in his arms, and gave him a small smirk as you stepped back and raised your fists again.
He moved forward quickly this time, throwing a quick combo of punches aimed at your head and torso and trying to get his arms around you for a hold. You still dodged his strikes easily and when he tried to put you in a hold, you delivered a swift knee to the juncture of his waist on his left side, dancing back again.
His long hair had fallen into is eyes at this point, and when he straightened back up, the look of appraisal he gave was laced with frustration.
Your breathing was still even and relaxed, and Nat had been right, you hadnât broken a sweat at all in the past 45 minutes. You loosely rolled one tattooed shoulder and gave him a grin, practically begging him to try again.
He clenched his jaw and rushed you. You kept dodging his blows or batting them aside but when he brought his foot around suddenly you moved a little too slow and felt it glance off your cheekbone. He took advantage of your brief surprise and moved behind you whip fast, wrapping one arm around your neck as he braced the other around your right shoulder and he tried to force you to the ground. You sprung your legs off the mat, raising them above your waist before swinging them back down as you got your left hand behind his head and grabbed the back of his tee, then used your momentum to fling him over your shoulders and toss him 15 feet across the room.
He shot up fast and turned back to with a look of complete shock on his face as he crouched into a protective stance. He stared at you like that for a beat before clenching his jaw and straightening up, rolling his head to right.
You followed his line of sight, perplexed. Bucky had jolted off of the wall and looked ready for a fight, flicking his gaze between you and Rogers. Wanda was staring at you with surprise, but was still relaxed. Vis looked at everyone around the room in confusion, trying to understand where the sudden tension had come from. The only person who seemed unfazed by what happened was Nat, all doe eyed innocence as she sipped her drink, not making eye contact with you or Rogers.
Poor Sam chose this moment to wander in. âHey, Y/N, I heard itâs your b-day. You ready for me to drink you under⌠What happened?â
âFuckâs sake Nat, you didnât tell them.â You hissed at her.
âIt didnât really seem important, Y/N. Besides, itâs your secret.â
âNot a secret Nat. Jesus.â
âSomeone want to tell me what the fuck I missed?â Sam was still flicking his gaze around the room, trying to figure out what was happening.
âY/N just threw Steve across the room like a ragdoll.â Bucky said.
âOh, word? Interesting.â Sam said.
âSomeone want to explain this situation to me, slowly?â Rogers was looking murderously between you and Nat, and you honestly could have killed her yourself.
âOh, did everyone not know about Y/Nâs brain implants?â
All of you looked at Vision when he piped up, and he got a grin on his face like he had just solved an especially difficult puzzle.
âBaby, I think itâs safe to say only you and Nat knew.â Wanda whispered to him.
âBut wasnât that why we came here? Y/N has been hiding from multiple governments for years and her expertise has been very helpful in shielding us from both the United Nations and Stark industries.â
âYeah, honey, just assume that youâre the only one who knows what youâre talking about.â Wanda said exasperatedly.
âOh, well then, Y/N was part of an experimental program run by HYDRA under the guise of SHIELD during the 1990s where adolescents received brain implants designed by Dr. Emil Zola to increase sensory perception, decrease pain receptors, and specifically, maximize the efficiency of fast twitch muscle fibers via the phosphagen system, allowing use of these muscles for longer periods of time without negative effects. This was of course after multiple failed trials with a new super soldier serum.
âThe programâs graduates were deployed at the beginning of the second Gulf War, purportedly to hunt terrorists, but were also used as HYDRAâs own assassination squad in the eastern hemisphere. The program was discontinued at the end of 2007 and it was thought that all the graduates were culled, but Y/N simply disappeared on mission at the Wakandan border. I admit, I was a bit surprised when she greeted us as sheâs presumed dead by most intelligence agencies, but I thought her history was the reason we chose this location. Did I miss anything?â Vis looked at you with genuine interest.
âNo thatâs pretty much it, thanks.â You said flatly, running a hand over your face.
âSee, not that big of a deal.â Nat shrugged.
âWell, Vis and I are going to head to bed.â Wanda chirped up, looking nervously between you, Nat, and the two super soldiers who were now staring at you again. She ushered Vision out of the room quickly and shushed him as he tried to ask if he had done something wrong.
âYou really didnât think this is something I might have wanted to know Nat?â Steve had now turned his attention back to your friend, murder written all over his face.
âNo, Steve. Like I said, this is Y/Nâs business and it changes literally nothing about how much I trust her. I canât help it that you got your panties in a bunch over some perceived threat when I told you over and over again that I would willingly put my life in her hands in any situation.â
âYou should have told them Nat.â You shook your head at her. She was still playing some sort of game, you could tell, but you didnât know what.
âOk, fine, Iâm sorry. I just didnât think you wanted the drama, or to have Barnes look at you like some little lost lamb.â
âAw geez, Buck, stop looking at me like that or Iâm going to punch you. Iâm fine.â
âAhm, sorry.â Buckyâs look of overwhelming sympathy would have been heartbreaking if it had been directed at anybody but you, and you really couldnât handle that right now. âIâm here to talk if you ever need it.â
âThanks, Barnes.â
âBesides, you and Steve are both in desperate need of a good fuck, and I thought an impromptu discovery like this would give you the push you need.â
And there it was.
âWell, Iâm going to have to make it a rain check on those birthday drinks Y/N, look at the time, itâs⌠6 PM. Letâs go Barnes.â Sam was now looking everywhere except at you and Rogers as he did his best to drag Bucky, who was doubled over crying with laughter, out of the gym.
You and Steve glared at Nat as she just sat there grinning, looking overly pleased with herself. A flush was creeping up Rogers neck as his fists tightened and loosened. You could see his jaw clenching under his beard and the tendons on his neck stand out in a look of absolute fury.
âYou are such a meddling bitch, Romanoff.â You growled at her. Sure, it had been a while, but you were plenty capable of taking care of yourself, which you had told her after she plied you with three bottles of good Russian vodka.
âYep.â She hopped off her stool and tossed her ice pack into the freezer. âIâm gonna leave you two to it. Talk, fight, fuck, do something. Your sexual tension is bringing down the vibe.â
She easily dodged the kettle bell you lobbed at her head with a laugh as she scurried out of the gym, closing the door behind her.
After about a minute of uncomfortable silence, you and Rogers turned back to each other. His face was no longer bright red as he looked at you, but you noticed something new in his gaze. His pupils were dilated as he peered at you through the hair that had fallen into his eyes. His breathing was deeper as he stepped closer and looked down at you. You were quite a bit taller than Nat, but still only came up to his eyes. He had moved his gaze to your chest, which was rising and falling in a slightly faster rhythm as he took you in, before moving it to your lips, then back up to your eyes.
âWanna talk?â he asked.
âNope.â
âFight?â
âOK.â
You both took several steps back, retreating to your corners. Some unspoken agreement passed between you and Steve ripped off his t-shirt and sweatpants, until he was down to only his boxer briefs. You removed your sweats as well until you stood there in your sports bra and boy shorts. Neither of you examined whether you were doing this to increase your range of motion or for some other, hungrier reason.
You gazed at each other for a beat, drinking each other in. Steve rolled his broad shoulders and neck, bending from side to side briefly as you watched the muscles in his abdomen tighten and relax as he stretched. You reached your arms over your head before folding yourself over to wrap your arms around the backs of your thighs, twisting yourself to loosen your back muscles and feeling his eyes on you the whole time.
After straightening back up, you each gave each other a swift nod then rushed forward wordlessly.
You managed to gain the upper hand first when you vaulted over him as he dove at you, wrapping one arm around his throat as you carried your momentum and brought him to the ground, coiling your legs around his torso like a snake and stretching his right arm out with yours, pinning it in place.
He reached his left arm over his shoulder and punched you in the face.
You let go of him with a grunt and rolled up quickly, but he was able to get behind you and grabbed your left wrist with his right hand, hauling you over his shoulder while his left arm wrapped around your thigh and he drove you backwards into the mat, knocking the air out of your lungs before rolling over to try to pin you.
You got one leg between the two of you and drove your foot into the center of his chest, sending him flying across the room to crash into the free weights. You didnât give him a chance to recover before charging back into him driving a fist into first his ribs, then his hip and causing him to buckle over before you wrapped one knee around his chest and rolled forward, slamming him into the ground so hard the floor cracked as you went to straddle him.
He caught your knee and carried you into a kneeling position before throwing you into the sandbags with enough force to knock one loose. You landed heavily and grabbed a kettle bell, whipping at him. He barely dodged it as he covered his head and it glanced off his forearm, giving you enough time to rush forward.
He caught you in the center of the mat and twisted you over him until you were pinned; one of your wrists in each of his hands above your head, legs wrapped around your thighs forcing them apart as he pressed his whole body weight into you.
You stopped struggling finally and stared up at him. You both were breathing heavily and covered in sweat. Steveâs hair was falling into his eyes, which were now lust blown as he stared at your lips. You could feel the muscles in his torso twitching against you as he held you in place.
He suddenly released your wrists without a word, and brought one hand behind your head to pull your mouth to his hungrily. His tongue ran along your lower lip and you opened yourself up to him, sighing into his mouth.
His other hand worked its way down your back as his legs loosened their hold on yours and he pressed your hips into his. You felt him start to grind his hardened cock into your mound and let out a low moan. He growled into your lips before releasing your head and started to kiss and bite his way down your neck, drawing soft whimpers from you as he did.
When he reached the tops of your breasts he pulled away from you suddenly to skim one hand up your abdomen before hooking three fingers under the edge of your sports bra and slowly drawing it over your head, eyes boring into yours as he did so. Once his obstacle had been removed, he nuzzled his face into the valley between your tits before gently sucking a bruise there as his beard scratched against your skin. He then moved his mouth to first your right nipple, then your left; rolling them between his teeth and tongue as you pressed your chest further into his face with a gasp.
He continued his downward journey, dipping his tongue into your navel before he reached the top of your shorts. He slowly drew them down your thighs and off until you were laying underneath him, fully bare and wanton, your cunt clenching around nothing as he stared up at you, resting his chin on your lower abdomen as his eyes asked you a silent question and you nodded, almost imperceptibly.
He drew your knees over his shoulders and pulled you down until his beard was flush against your mound. He nuzzled into the soft hair there before kissing the inside of your thighs slowly, his beard scratching the soft skin there as he gently ran the edge of his teeth up to your juncture then back down at an agonizingly slow pace. When you felt him breathe against your entrance, you wrapped one hand in his hair and moaned, and when his tongue found your clit you screamed and arched your back into him.
His tongue slowly circled your clit as he brought up his right hand and brushed his pointer and middle fingers through your arousal slowly, before inserting one finger into your pussy at a deliciously slow pace. You felt him smile against you as you moaned, wrapping your thighs around his neck as he moved in and out, curling his finger against that soft, spongy spot over and over again before adding another finger.
His tongue had stopped drawing itâs slow circles and was now pressing and releasing against you at faster intervals, causing your breath to hitch in your chest as you writhed against his face. He held a third finger at the edge of your entrance and when you pressed yourself into it, he inserted it into your canal, stretching you so good you let out a thin whine. He shook his head back and forth quickly but gently, adding a brand new sensation before he began to suck on your clit.
All the breath rushed out of you at once as you brought your second hand to press his head further into you. His fingers were fucking into you fast now and you felt the tension in your abdomen building as he alternated between sucking and licking at the small bundle of nerves. When he finally latched on, at the same time he curled all three fingers against your g-spot, you came apart around him, screaming his name as your thighs wrapped around his head like a vise as every muscle in your back tightened, thrusting your torso off the mat violently before you sank back down, relaxing as Steve helped you ride it out.
His name was the first thing either of you had said in almost 15 minutes, and he didnât want to break the silence now. He was afraid if either of you spoke, youâd break the spell that seemed to have settled over you. Instead of saying anything, he gently pulled you down until you were straddling his waist, then nuzzled his face into the juncture between your neck and shoulder before resting his forehead on yours and staring into your eyes.
You looked back at him, blinking slowly as you moved your hands down to his hips and slipping your fingers under the edge of his boxer briefs. You slipped them over his hips slowly, and you felt his legs shifting in between yours as he moved himself to help you remove them, never breaking eye contact with you. You matched each otherâs breathing as he shifted his hips and lined himself up at your entrance, his eyes giving you a pleading look. You shifted your hips closer to him, and he slowly breached you with his tip, closing his eyes as he did so and letting out a low moan from the back of his throat. He started thrusting into you slowly, trying not to collapse on top of you as he held himself back.
You brought your face up to his and slowly kissed him, gently drawing your tongue along the outside of his lips. The hand you didnât have buried in his hair moved to his lower back and pressed him into you further, and you softly whispered against his mouth âPleaseâŚâ
He let out a feral growl and settled his full weight on top of you as his hands moved from their supportive positions. One moved underneath you to hold you against him as he fucked into you fast, the other buried itself in your hair as he wrenched your head back and ran his teeth over your throat, nipping at the small hollow at its base. His hand on your back tilted your hips so each drive of his brought him flush against your clit, and you started breathlessly whimpering as he drove into you at a punishing speed.
Your second orgasm came almost without warning. You felt yourself flutter around him one moment when he suddenly tilted your hips just right and you were seeing stars, your body spasming as an uncontrollable wave of pleasure crashed over you repeatedly.
Steve still wasnât finished though. He gave you a kiss like a starving man before pulling out of you suddenly. You groaned at the loss before he flipped you over fast and slammed back into you, causing you to let out a cry as his tip kissed your cervix.
He maneuvered you into the position he wanted quickly; one knee hooked over his leg and brought up close to your side with your other leg stretched behind you. He brought one arm underneath you to wrap a massive hand around your throat while the other tangled itself in your hair and drew your head back enough for him to kiss you hard, shoving his tongue down your throat as he continued to drive into you.
You had another orgasm almost immediately. Your pussy was fluttering and clenching like crazy as your body almost vibrated with pleasure. Steve still wasnât slowing down and you were having so much trouble catching your breath you were worried you were going to pass out. You couldnât stop driving your hips back into him though, matching his pace and feeling the tension in your core begin to gather again. You rolled your eyes back in your head and let out a thin whimper as you moved a hand between your thighs, trying to gain some sort of control over your own pleasure before your brain short-circuited.
Steve ripped your fingers from your throbbing clit with a growl and replaced them with his own, drawing harsh circles around the overstimulated bundle as you gasped and whimpered. He moved the hand he had at your throat to cup your chin, and tugged at your bottom lip with his thumb. You opened your mouth to gently nip at the rough pad as you felt his hips start to stutter, and he when he bit into your shoulder harshly you let out a scream and came apart violently, shaking underneath him uncontrollably.
His own release was right behind yours, and you felt his hot spend coating your insides as you fluttered around him and he wordlessly roared into your ear. He collapsed on top of you, burying his face in your neck and breathing deeply as he moved his hand from your face to softly cup your breast, lazily rolling one nipple in between his fingers and you came down from your respective highs.
You felt him softening inside you as you started to untangle yourselves. He slowly pulled out and you let out a small sigh at the loss of him. You heard him groan as he caught the sight of his cum slowly leaking out of your swollen cunt, and he left a slow trail of kisses down your spine before gently turning you over.
You wrapped one hand around the back of his neck and pulled your face up to his, kissing him deeply as your other hand trailed through the hair on his chest before coming to rest on his abdomen. He rested his forehead against yours again as you both got your breathing under control, before he broke out in an absolutely sinful grin.
You both started laughing then, the previous tension completely broken as you buried your face in his neck and he held you close to him, shaking with laughter.
âOh my god, I really did need a good fuck.â You said breathlessly, tears leaking down your cheeks.
âYeah, well Iâd say we shouldnât give Nat the satisfaction of knowing sheâs right but I doubt she wasnât listening in this whole time.â
âJesus, of course she was. Sheâll never stop meddling now.â
He grunted in agreement before giving you a brief kiss to the top of your head, then you separated yourselves to stumble around and locate your clothes.
The gym was an absolute wreck. Aside from the crack in the floor, the weight racks had fallen over in a domino effect after you had kicked Steve into one and two of the sandbags were leaking everywhere.
You were both covered in bruises from the sparring session and the stiffness you always felt after overexertion seemed to have multiplied tenfold as you struggled to pull your sweats back on, groaning at how tight your muscles were. Steve seemed to be feeling it as well as he let out a hiss through his teeth when he pulled his sweatshirt back over his head.
Once you were both dressed, he stalked over to you like a cat and wrapped his arms around your waist and pulling you in for one more kiss.
âGuess we should go face the rest of them.â He said, resigned.
You groaned as he dragged you out of the gym, hand in hand, to endure what you were sure was going to be a chorus of cat calls and innuendos, but when the two of you arrived in the living area, it was just Nat curled up on the sofa, giving the two of you a satisfied smirk.
âWhere is everyone?â You asked her, looking around to see if maybe they had moved into the kitchen.
Nat threw back her head and laughed. âOh they all ran out into the snow once you two really got started. I donât think Iâve ever seen anyone look as embarrassed as Bucky did in my entire life. He forgot his shoes.â She was crying with laughter.
âOutside, Nat, itâs freezing out there!â The sun had already gone down with how late in the year it was and once that happened, the temperature would drop severely.
âI told them but they couldnât handle it. Bunch of prudes.â
âYeah, while you sat here and listened, you pervert.â You and Steve started pulling on boots and coats to head out after them.
âIâm the pervert! While you two had the worldâs loudest fuckfest less than 20 feet away from the rest of your housemates, hey!â You had thrown her coat at her face and she caught it to shrug around her shoulders. âThey probably had to go out five miles before they werenât able to hear you.â
Steve growled at her as he ripped the front door open and headed out with you on his heels.
âOh, youâre welcome by the way! It sure would be nice to get some appreciation for your birthday gift, Y/N⌠shit.â
Steve had lobbed a snowball the size of a golden retriever at her that she barely dodged at the last minute, cursing under her breath.
Steve wrapped an arm around you as you headed out into the fields to find your poor housemates and apologize, nuzzling himself into your hair with a grin. âHappy birthday.â He murmured to you, giving you a quick kiss before ruining the moment by bellowing âBarnes, get your dumbass back here, you forgot your boots!â
You grinned at him, looking up at the sky where the borealis had started and thinking that maybe birthdays werenât so bad after all.
#chris evans smut#smut#steve rogers#nomad steve#steve rogers x reader#steve rogers x you#steve rogers x y/n#writing
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Magic is legal, Arthur knows The Truth and Merlin is... shit at explaining things:
Arthur demands a trip to visit the Druids, who are far more qualified than Merlin, so they can explain this whole... destiny thing.
Iâve written a lot of angst and Hurt!Merlin recently, so I just wanted to write something short and sweet and fluffy :)
SO.
Magic has been legalised, Merlin is Court Sorcerer, all the knights are alive and happy, Morgana is good, and the only thing Arthur has to worry about right now is what the hell to do about the rapidly growing crush he has on his BestFriendâ˘.
After the dust had settled, Merlin had tried to sit Arthur down and tell him the whole story; all about Emrys, and the prophecies, and destiny. The King already knew about Merlinâs magic, and roughly how powerful he is, but thatâs it.
But Merlin went so long barely mentioning it at all, not even to Gaius or Morgana or Lancelot, that heâs still not entirely sure what to say. Years of hiding and lying and trying desperately not to think about it, mean his brain now blanks when he tries to explain it.
After far too long of Arthur looking on confusedly whilst Merlin rambled on about dragons and coins and mental links and names, The Court Sorcerer gave up, and decided to just not bother.
Arthur, of course, decided that giving up was stupid, and made the executive decision that they would just go to the Druids, and someone who actual knew what they were talking about could explain it thoroughly. Maybe even allow Arthur to read the original prophecies.
Plus, it turned out that Initiating a Golden Age took quite a lot of work, so neither of them had had a chance to leave the city for weeks. They could do with the fresh air. And if Arthur saw it as a good chance to be properly alone with Merlin for more than half a candle mark? No one else needed to know, least of all Merlin.
~
It was a pleasant journey through the woods. The silences comfortable, and the conversations easy and filled with smiles.
Magic had only been legalised for about a fortnight, and after over twenty years of fear, magic users were still understandably cautious, meaning the closest Druid camp was still a two days ride away.
But that wasnât a problem. With Merlin now able to use his magic openly, and therefor more able to defend his King, he found he was far less anxious about the trip outside the city than he wouldâve been before. And if his good mood bled into the environment around them? Well... it was spring... surely no one would notice the extra flowers and abundance of butterflies?
(Arthur definitely noticed. But Merlin was still... wary, of performing sorcery openly, in fear of scaring the people who had been sucked in by two decades of propaganda and fear-mongering. Meaning Arthur sure as shit wasnât going to point it out, in case Merlin stopped.)
It was around noon, and the sun was shining down on them when Merlin pulled his horse to a stop. He dismounts effortlessly, and hands a confused Arthur his reins. At Arthurâs raised eyebrow, Merlin sighs and speaks quietly:
âThe camp is about two minutes further on but... the change in the law was only recent, and...-â
He bites his lip and looks away, worrying Arthur slightly, before continuing:
â-well, chainmail and red capes still make them a little nervous. Iâve already warned their leader that weâre coming-â
He taps his temple briefly:
â-but I should go ahead and explain properly.â
Arthur nods in understanding, and gives Merlin a comforting smile:
âI completely understand, Merlin. How long do you want me to wait, or will you come back to get me?â
Merlin returns his smile, before saying:
âJust wait ten minutes then follow me, straight down the path. Bring the horses, thereâll be somewhere to tie them there. You shouldnât run into any trouble this close to a camp, but you do have a track-record so-â
Merlin laughs at Arthurâs indignant expression, but continues before he can interrupt him:
â-if you do, just yell. We wonât be too far away, weâll hear you.â
Arthur rolls his eyes fondly and shoos Merlin away. The Warlock laughs as he turns and continues down the path on foot. Just before he disappears behind a large bush, he turns around again, a slightly concerned expression on his face:
âI might look a bit... different? But donât mention it, theyâre quite fond of me... uh... dressing the part.â
Arthur huffs out a laugh before saying:
âIâm sure I wonât forget what you look like in ten minutes, Merlin. Go.â
Merlin hums thoughtfully, and turns back around, disappearing into the trees and leaving Arthur to his thoughts.
After a few moments, he removes his cloak, tucking it into a saddlebag. He also, after only a little hesitation, removes his sword, strapping it to his saddle. It was still visible and easily within reach, but not so threateningly on display at his hip.
He was entering these peopleâs home, after personally wielding the sharp edge of their persecution for almost a decade; the least he could do was make them as comfortable as possible.
He hadnât mentioned it to anyone, not even Merlin, but he had a feeling that this meet was going to end up being about more than the prophecies. Peace had been harboured, magic had been legalised, but like Merlin had pointed out, things were still a little tense. This meeting was a way to show the Druids that Arthur meant it, that his whole heart was behind this change. The he was not his father.
Arthur was a little nervous (not that heâd ever admit that), this was important. Not just to him and the kingdom, but to Merlin personally. He had to get this right. One of the only things that Arthur had managed to get out of Merlin, to do with the whole destiny thing, was that it was finished. It was done.
If Arthur messes this up, not only will it ruin the peace they had been working so hard for... then Merlin might leave. He has no reason to stay after-all, heâs done his job. So Arthur has to get this right, has to impress everyone, now more than ever, because if he fails and the Druids all leave Camelot, then Merlin would leave with them.
And that thought was... unbearable.
He counts down the minutes, getting more and more tense. He tried to distract himself by thinking about what Merlin had said, âdressing the partâ what does that even mean?
But it doesnât work. Soon enough his brain is throwing thought after paranoid thought at him, about all the possible ways Merlin could tell Arthur he hated him, and leave forever and ever.
Arthur rubbed his eyes harshly, muttering to himself about how he really shouldâve accepted the ârelaxing teaâ Gaius had offered him before they left. Other than Merlin, the old physician is the only one who ever seems to know what he needs in the moment, Arthur should definitely learn to listen to him more.
He finally reaches zero in his mental countdown, and sighs before standing from where heâd sat on a fallen log. Heâd allowed the horses to wander a bit but they were trained to stay close by, so he has no problem gathering their reins again and leading them slowly down the path Merlin had followed.
All Druid camps were different. Some moved around constantly, some stayed fairly still. Some were huge, acres large with hundreds of people, others were small, only ten people or so. Some were occupied by mostly the sick and elderly, others were full of the young and adventurous, and others were family orientated.
And of course it was rare, according to Gaius, that someone would stay in the same camp their whole life. The Druids were a nomadic people, always shifting, drifting, wandering. Following a constantly tugging thread in their hearts, going where nature beckoned them.
According to Merlin, this specific camp was pretty small (around twenty adults) but it was also a fairly familial group, meaning lots of children. And if that didnât make Arthur nervous (it definitely did) then nothing would.
Arthur didnât have much experience with children, and definitely had no concept of how to act around them, especially Druid children.
After about a minute of walking, Arthur could hear loud laughter and quiet conversations floating through the trees. He slowed his pace; trying to appear unthreatening and friendly, or to delay the inevitable, heâs not quite sure.
He finally breaks through the treeline to see that... no one is even looking in his direction.
It was the middle of the day, so the camp was busy, people milling about everywhere, most of the tents open, various jobs getting done throughout the clearing.
But what immediately drew Arthurâs eye, was the source of the laughter.
The King looked across the clearing to see Merlin, in a whole new wardrobe, and a whole new light.
The man had changed from his simple travellers clothes (basically the clothes heâd worn as a manservant, just a bit newer and cleaner.) into a loose, white, lace up shirt (sleeves rolled up, which Arthur absolutely did NOT find himself staring at, thank you very much.) paired with slim black trousers.
But what was most striking, was the deep blue cloak billowing behind him, and the silver crown on his head. It was delicate, as if forged with vines and leaves and feathers, but it was oh so Merlin.
Arthur stayed at the edge of the clearing, glad that no one had noticed him; allowing him to stare in reverence at his best friend.
He was surrounded by young children, all laughing joyously as his eyes glowed golden and he waved his hands around. He neednât mutter spells as he smiled widely, willing butterflies and bees to manifest in the air around him.
One of the younger children held his arms in the air and made grabbing motions with his hands. Merlin bent over and pulled him up into the air without a moment of hesitation, spinning him around on the spot (much to the kidâs enjoyment, who giggled outrageously), before settling him on his hip.
He used one hand to support the kidâs weight (when did Merlin get so strong??), and used the other to summon flowers around the feet of the rest of the children.
A fond smile spread across Arthurâs face as he saw them run around exuberantly, gathering the flowers in chubby hands to present to parents and siblings and friends.
Arthur laughed softly as he saw Merlin reply enthusiastically to something that the boy on his hip had said, and a second later, the child had a butterfly perched on the end of his nose.Â
Arthur is broken from his concentration, jumping a foot in the air when a soft hand lands on his shoulder from behind.
He whips his head around, just about managing to stop himself from yelping and reaching for where his sword usually is at his hip.
He calms his breathing as his eyes find the friendly face of a Druid, an amused smile on his face. Arthur returns his smile, a tad shakily, suddenly feeling the nerves again, and nods his head respectfully.
The man keeps his hand on Arthurâs shoulder, but looks towards Merlin in the clearing, before softly saying:
âHeâs quite something, your Emrys, isnât he?â
Arthur gulps, also looking back at Merlin as he replies with a chuckle that was only slightly forced:
âHeâs more yours than mine, especially like this, but yes, he is something special.â
The Druid laughs disbelievingly, and Arthur turns to look, a confused expression on his face as he listens to his reply:
âDefinitely not. Heâs always belonged to you more than heâs belonged to us-â
He stops laughing to look at Arthur, eyes sparkling with friendly mirth as he continues:
â-prophecy or no, he had a... well... a pre-carved place among the Druids, but he still chose to carve his own space by your side. I think that speaks volumes about where he truly belongs, or at least where he wants to belong, donât you?â
Arthur doesnât really have a response to that as he stares at the man with barely concealed bafflement, but luckily, before the silence stretches too long, the Druid gestures to the clearing:
âCome. Everyone is excited to meet you, though I warn you, the children in this camp can be rather energetic, as youâve already seen.â
Arthur gulps and nods, following him into the centre of the camp.
Everyoneâs attention is quickly caught by The Kingâs presence, and someone comes over to wordlessly take the horseâs reins from him.
The adults bow their heads slightly in respect, giving him soft smiles, and the children fidget on the spot, wide grins on their faces as they whisper conspiratorially to each other.
The boy in Merlinâs arms wiggles, and he gets put down. He rushes over to Arthur, grabbing his hand with a toothy grin and dragging him over to Merlin and the other children.
Merlin hides a laugh behind his hand as Arthurâs eyes widen, and his face goes pale. He thought this was going to be meetings and serious discussions and apologies, not playing with children!! What do children even like?! Swords?? Can he talk to them about swords??! Druids are pacifists right? So probably not??
He gets pulled down to crouch, and the children crowd him, all babbling at once, wildly showing him flowers and butterflies.
Merlin laughs at his bewildered fear for a few moments, before he crouches next to Arthur and holds his hands up, saying loudly:
âAlright, alright, you lot. Remember what I said?â
The children still, and a chorus of âYes Lord Emrysâ resounds from the group. With that, they stay silent, but still grin widely and bounce on the spot in excitement.
Arthur gives Merlin a stressed, but grateful smile, before looking back to the children. He takes a deep breath, before smiling at them, and saying:
âMy nameâs Arthur. Thank you for having me, I appreciate your hospitality.â
Merlin snorts at his overly formal tone, and has to stop himself laughing at the shock and fear on Arthurâs face when one of the younger ones loudly asks:
âWhatâs hosp-ee-tal-it-ee?â
Arthur furrows his brows, but luckily one of the teenagers steps in, quietly saying:
âItâs when someone comes into your home, and youâre nice to them.â
Arthur smiles and nods, and Merlin chuckles in amusement.
Thankfully (for Arthur) Merlin then stands and announces to the children that itâs lunch time, and to get washed up. They all rush off, and Arthur lets out a breath as he stands.
Merlin holds in yet another laugh, but tilts his head in confusion as Arthurâs gaze is once again drawn to the crown that rests on Merlinâs unruly hair.
Merlin flushes slightly when he realises what Arthur is looking at, looking to the floor and mumbling:
âYou have no idea how long Iâve been trying to get them to just call me Merlin, but then they presented me with this a few months ago and I could hardly say no, could I?â
Arthur nods as Merlin looks up again, meeting his gaze. Thereâs a soft smile on his face, one that Merlin isnât quite sure what to make of as he quietly replies:
âHmm. Looks good on you.â
Merlin makes a surprised noise and his eyes go wide, the flush on his cheeks deepening as Arthur laughs gently at him.
Arthur puts his hand on Merlinâs shoulder, his thumb brushing against the skin of his neck in a way that was slightly more than friendly, but Merlin doesnât pull away, so Arthur leaves his hand there as he looks around the bustling camp.
His smile falls into something more sad, and Merlin frowns at him curiously:
âArthur? What is it?â
Arthur shakes his head slightly, not looking back at Merlin as he replies, almost whispering:
âNothing. Itâs just, last time I was this far into a Druid camp... I did terrible things. Look at this place, how could I ever have believed that magic was evil? Itâs beautiful here.â
Merlinâs frown deepens, but before he can reply, a small hand tugs at Arthurâs sleeve, and the two of them look down suddenly to see one of the boys from before. He wore a confused expression, and whispered, as if he knew this was meant to be a secret conversation:
âWhat terrible things did you do, Mr King Sir?â
Merlin takes in a quiet gasp and widens his eyes, but before he can tell him off or lie, Arthur squeezes his shoulder, and crouches down in front of the child.
Arthur gives the boy a smile, and takes his hands, quietly saying:
âWell. When I was young, I was taught some things that are wrong, I didnât question them, and because of that I did some really bad things. I thought I was being a good person, but actually I was being a bad person because I didnât do my own research, and I didnât know any better. But then I started learning how to be better, and now I do everything in my power to be an actual good person.-â
Arthur looks up at Merlin with a small smile on his face, before looking back down to the boy, who is hanging on to his every word:
â-Your Emrys is helping me with that. You see, heâs the best person Iâve ever met, and heâs helping me be more like him.â
Arthur resists the urge to look back at Merlin as he feels a firm, but shaky hand on his back, and instead looks at the child as he thinks over Arthurâs words. His face breaks into a grin, and Arthur returns the smile as the boy says:
âHeâs the best isnât he? I wanna be like him when I grow up!â
Arthur ruffles his hair, and replies quietly:
âYeah kid, me too.â
The boy gives him a toothy grin, before running off once again, and Arthur lets out yet another breath he had been holding before standing up.
Merlinâs hand remains on his shoulder, and Arthur regrets meeting his gaze the moment he turns his head. But he also canât rip his eyes away from the teary expression of awe and bewildered happiness on his face.
Merlin lets out a gentle laugh at Arthurâs apprehensive face before shaking his head, and looking back at him once again, this time amusement on his face:
âThe best person youâve ever met, huh?â
Arthur rolls his eyes and blushes deeply, pushing Merlinâs hand off his shoulder as he mumbles a flustered:
âShut up, Merlin. I could hardly tell him the truth, could I?â
Merlin hums thoughtfully and replies with laughter in his voice:
âHmm. That makes more sense, of course.â
Without waiting for Arthurâs reply, he grabs the Kingâs wrist and drags him towards a large tent in the corner of the clearing. Inside were two tables, one large, and one smaller and lower, both surrounded by benches.
Merlin directed them to bowls in the corner so they could wash their hands, before they sit at the larger of the two tables. Everyone over the ages of about fourteen joins them, the younger ones going to the smaller table.
Food appears, covering the surface, summoned from the cooking pots outside and the various food stores around the camp. Arthur tries to keep the wonderment off his face, but knows he failed miserably when he hears Merlin chuckle beside him. He punches Merlinâs leg under the table playfully, but that only makes him laugh harder.
He quietens when the man sat opposite Arthur stands:
âToday we have two honoured guests, our Lord Emrys, and the Once and Future King Arthur. We share our home, our food, and our welcome, for as long as they wish to stay. We raise our goblets to you, My Lords.â
At that, he raises his cup in the air, everyone else in the tent following him. Merlin smiles and nods at him, raising his own cup, and Arthur nervously copies his movements, comforted by Merlinâs reassuring hand on his knee.
With that, the Druid sits down, and conversation breaks out around the tent as everyone begins to eat.
Merlin handles most of the discussions, talking to everyone as if they were life long friends. Arthur is grateful for that, he answers any questions sent his way, asking a few polite ones in return, but Druid culture is so different to life in the city and Arthur doesnât really know what he should be talking about.
Thankfully, the meal passes quickly, and after another announcement from the man Arthur now presumed was the leader here, the crowd dispersed, everything being cleared away with magic.
Not every Druid practiced sorcery, but they were clearly in a magic-heavy camp; Arthur could see it plain as day, everywhere he looked.
Merlin once again took Arthurâs wrist, leading him out into the sun. Usually, Arthur hated being led places, especially by the hand, but he found he didnât quite mind it today. Whether it was because they were in Merlinâs domain, and Merlin was King here, or because of how nervous he was, or because of some other reason entirely, Arthur wasnât sure, and frankly, he didnât want to think too deeply about it.
This time, Merlin led them to another, smaller tent.
It had several comfortable looking chairs around a smallish circular table, which was covered in scrolls and parchments and old-looking books.
A few seconds later, they were joined by the Druid leader; he smiled softly at them and gestured for them to sit at the table. Merlin and Arthur sat next to each other, and the Druid kindly pretended not to notice them shuffling the chairs closer together.
The rest of the afternoon passed in a blur, Arthur having lost his nerves fairly early in the conversation. Maybe that had something to do with the fact that official meetings were his specialty, or maybe it was because Merlinâs hand once again found his knee, but stayed there this time. Who knows.
The Druid had introduced himself, and once more welcomed Arthur to the camp, before launching into explanations of the prophecies and destinies, and everyoneâs roles in them.
Merlin knew most if it, and looked especially proud of himself when the Druid described in wonder how Merlin had changed the very fates of the Lady Morgana, Sir Mordred, and Arthur himself.
Arthur was definitely taken aback at that. Whilst Merlin had prattled on, making no sense, about his and Arthurâs destinies, he had never mentioned anyone else, and Arthur becomes increasingly glad he came here to sort it all out.
There were some bits that not even Merlin knew though. He wasnât aware that the other knights, Guinevere, and Gaius featured in a few of the newer prophecies, and the Druid had an amused smile on his face when he admitted that heâd thought Merlin would have figured that out.
Arthur did laugh at him at that, and Merlin flushed before telling him:
âShut up, or Iâll tell the others you said I was the best person youâve ever met, and theyâll never let you live it down.â
Arthur narrows his eyes, and the Druid continues look at them in amusement as they bicker.
The meeting comes to an end just before dark, and Arthur thanks the Druid profusely, for welcoming him, and taking the time to go through everything thoroughly.
Another meal is had in the large tent, but when they leave this time, the clearing has been completely emptied. A large bonfire roars in the middle, and logs surround it, providing seating for everyone.
The evening is full of stories and music and magic, and Arthur once again finds himself wondering just how he thought any of this could be evil.
Even Merlin stands to lead a song. He moves around the clearing with yet another child sat sat on his hip, giggling as Merlin spins her around.
Arthur is surprised to learn that Merlin has a good voice, and stares in wonderment as he leads the melody as if it was what he was born to do. The rest of the Druids clap along, joining in loudly and harmonising and playing instruments in time with the tune.
When the song comes to a close, the crowd burst into cheers as Merlin looks back to Arthur, breathing deeply and cheeks flushed. The Warlock smiles widely as he settles the child back in her motherâs lap before walking back over to his seat, next to Arthur.
Arthur returns his wide grin with a soft smile of his own, and as the music continues around them, Merlin tilts his face in happy confusion:
âWhy are you looking at me like that?â
Arthur just shakes his head slightly, smiling slightly wider as he responds without missing a beat:
âYouâre beautiful like this. And you have an exceptional voice.â
Merlin flushes in surprise and looks to his lap, quietly muttering:
âI wouldnât know about that...â
Arthur doesnât look away, huffing out a laugh before replying:
âI mean it, Merlin. You just look... happy. Like you belong here.-â
He does look away here, staring into the fire with a thoughtful, but slightly mournful look on his face as Merlin peers up at him, curious. Arthur continues, even quieter, before Merlin can question him:
â-You know, I wouldnât be angry if you wanted to stay. Here, I mean. I know magic is legal in Camelot now, but you belong somewhere like this. I would never begrudge you a home like this Merlin.â
Merlin laughs quietly, and takes Arthurâs hand, holding it in his lap like itâs something precious (it is, at least it is to Merlin). Arthur looks back at him in surprise, but doesnât pull away as Merlin replies, still smiling:
âHome isnât a place, Arthur, and the Druids know that better than anyone. Home is... home is wherever the people you love are. You are my people, Arthur, you and the knights and Gwen and Morgana and Gaius. My home is wherever you are. No matter my magic or title or destiny; my home will always be where you are.â
Arthur doesnât let the tears in his eyes fall, but he does squeeze Merlinâs hand, giving him a tender smile that's returned without hesitation.
With the exchanging of smiles that any onlooker would describe as loving, the conversation comes to an easy close, and they spend the rest of the evening hand in hand, smiling fondly at the antics around them.
Itâs late when the festivities come to an end, and Arthur and Merlin are exhausted, struggling to hold back yawns as theyâre shown to a tent that had been set up for them.
Their bags had been removed from the horses and left in there, and the floor was covered in various blankets and pillows. There was a small trunk, for them to store anything they wished to unpack, and a few candles were lit, filling the room with a soft golden light and pleasant smells.
Merlin charms the tent to be soundproof so they donât have to worry about noise (he may be openly able to use magic, but the idiot was still rather clumsy, and prone to accidental bangs and crashes), before removing his crown carefully. His cloak and boots follow shortly, and they all go neatly into the trunk, before he starts organising a spot to sleep.
After a few minutes, he realises that Arthur hasnât moved from his space by the entrance, and Merlin turns around to look at him questioningly. Arthurâs eyebrows are furrowed, and he looks deep in thought as he stares at the floor, fiddling with the hem of his tunic.
Merlin walks over, concerned, and takes one of Arthurâs hands into his own. Arthur looks up at him suddenly, broken free of his thoughts, and Merlin raises an eyebrow at him as he strokes his thumb across The Kingâs knuckles:
âWhatâs wrong, Arthur?â
Arthur looks into Merlinâs eyes searchingly, but seems to find what heâs looking for after only a moment, and smiles. Merlin tilts his head to prompt him, and Arthur takes his other hand, before softly speaking:
âYou know, I used to find the idea of falling in love frightening.-â
Merlin takes in a subtle deep breath, but Arthur doesnât notice as he shakes his head, huffing out a gentle laugh before continuing, looking somewhere over Merlinâs shoulder:
â-The possibility that someone could have that much control over me; that I would willingly give another person dominion over my heart, my soul, my... everything, was terrifying to me. But I find Iâm not scared anymore.-â
He looks back at Merlinâs shocked face. Arthur looks an odd mix of disbelieving, and happy beyond words as he continues, confident that what heâs saying is right, for the first time in a long time:
â-Because itâs you, Merlin. Itâs always been you. And how could I possibly find falling in love with you anything other than beautiful?â
Merlin gulps, seemingly searching Arthurâs face for any hint of a lie. When he finds nothing but sincerity, he launches himself forward, almost knocking Arthur to the floor.
He wraps his arms around the blondeâs shoulders tightly, burying a hand in his hair, and his face in the crook of his neck. Arthur huffs out a laugh as he wraps his arms around Merlinâs waist, running a soft hand up and down his back.
At Merlinâs muttered:
âI love you, Arthur, more than anything is this world. My magic, my everything, belongs to you.â
Arthur pulls back, smiling. He leans forward pressing his forehead against Merlinâs, and cups his cheek softly with his hand. They stare into the blue of each otherâs eyes for a moment, not in any hurry to move the moment along, Arthur running his thumb over Merlinâs cheekbone, and Merlin carding his fingers through Arthurâs hair.
Arthur takes a deep breath, before whispering, so quietly itâs a miracle Merlin hears him:
âCan I kiss you?â
Merlin nods infinitesimally, and the two of them lean forward, meeting in the middle in a soft kiss that could only be described as tender, and full of love.
If the stars shine brighter, and the wind blows warmer, and the animals of the dark seem happier that night... well... it was spring... surely no one would notice (Arthur definitely noticed, but he sure as shit wasnât going to point it out, in case Merlin stopped).
~
THE END!!
This is the first one Iâve written in aaaaages that didnât involve a dizzy/exhausted/sick Merlin so... yay me?
I just really wanted to write something fluffy, where there were no high stakes. No huge battles, or angsty confessions or anything like that, just a soft love story.
I genuinely got no clue what Iâll write next. I do have a few drafts and ideas floating around, but let me know if youâre after anything specific, I live to please :)
Like always, you wanna write this up properly with paragraphs and fleshed out stuff, go for it, credit and tag me :)
#merthur#bbc merlin#merlin#merlin/arthur#merthur fluff#ultra fluff#post magic reveal#court sorcerer merlin#good morgana#good mordred#gwen#guinevere#morgana#mordred#leon#sir leon#lancelot#sir lancelot#gwaine#sir gwaine#sir percival#percival#sir elyan#elyan#king arthur#arthur pendragon#druids#druid#emrys#merlin emrys
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đ¤ Haikyuu WIP excerpts
preview post for hq because recently i showed sara a list of my works in progress and she laughed at me and then made a dn joke like this is 2015 or something. we got:
đ¤ communal property /// ushijima x f!reader x tendou đ¤ sunshower /// atsumu x f!reader x osamu đ¤ corporate ethics /// kuroo x f!reader
anyway these are all terrible first drafts and i'm not sorry. however i am very very into these pieces and if you're interested in seeing them finished, you should tell me fr fr
đ¤ communal property /// Ushijima x f!Reader x Tendou
Summary: Tendou shares everything with Ushijimaâhis food, his dorm room, even the AVs he likes. Why not his girlfriend, too?
Tags/warnings: poly relationship in progress (only you and Tendou are dating at this point), mild suggestiveness ??, s*ze k*nk
Status: 10k words written (holy fuck lol) out of ~11k total? this bitch better get finished is2g
After the match, your voice is hoarse from screaming but you still manage to yell congratulations for your boyfriend when you meet him and Ushijima outside the locker room in the stadium. Youâre pumped on the adrenaline of the game, so you donât even protest like you usually would when Tendou picks you up in the middle of your hug and lifts you off the ground effortlessly. âHow was I? Awesome, right? I told you we would beat them!â
âYou did, you so didââ Even though your throat hurts, you canât help gushing about every rally, every soul-crushing block, every impossible spike. ââand then the guy on the left thought he was clear to shoot it but you justââ You throw your arms in the air and mime hitting the ball down like a blocker. âWha-bam!âand the look on his face! I thought he was going to punch you!â
Tendou laughs and lays a sloppy kiss on your cheek, just as thrilled as you are by the win. âYou really liked it that much? I thought you werenât into sports.â
âI loved it! You were so cool! I canât believe Iâm dating someone so cool!â You wrap your legs around his back and hug his face close to yours, reveling in the fact that this weirdo belongs to you wholly and entirely, that you get to have him to yourself (well, other than his roommate). âAnd Iâm not into sports, Iâm into you.â
Tendou smiles in a way that makes the sides of his eyes crinkle up and little red patches bloom over his cheeks, a look that says, I like you so much (Y/N), I like you I like you I like you, except heâs probably trying not to be mushy like that since Ushijima is standing off to the side.
You feel a little bad for ignoring him (no one likes being the third wheel, even if he never shows signs of caring) so when Tendou sets you down you turn to Ushijima. âAnd you! Holy shit, Tendou said you were good, but I didnât know you were that good. The ball when you hit it was super loudâhonestly, how are your hands okay? If I hit it that hard Iâd probably break something.â
âMy hands are fineâŚthis is normal for me.â
But just because youâve got them here in front of you and youâre still pumped from the exhilaration of the win, you canât help grabbing Ushijimaâs hand and flipping it palm-up to inspect. True to his word, thereâs no redness, just the calluses heâs built up on his long fingers. âWow.â
âYou donât need to worry about Wakatoshi,â Tendou tells you, grinning and then making a face. âHeâs a monster, he can handle it.â
âNo kidding. Youâre both monsters.â You put the base of your palm up against Ushijimaâs to gauge the size of his hand against yours, and without prompting Tendou grabs your other hand to press against his own. Tendouâs fingers are a bit longer, but Ushijimaâs areâŚthicker, more solid. Your hands look like a little kidâs in comparison. âCan I be honest? Half the time I was thinking I actually feel bad for the other team. If I had to take on both of you at the same time, Iâd probably cry.â
Youâre (mostly) joking, but itâs still a complete shock when you see the side of Ushijimaâs mouth curl up a tiny bit. Youâve known each other for months at this point, but youâve never seen him smile until now. Half of you is wondering if this is some kind of optical illusion caused by the atmosphere and the dim light of the stadium cutting through the evening, but the other half of you enjoys it. You made Ushijima smile. You did that.
âDonât sell yourself short, (Y/N).â Ushijima says, tipping his head to the side.
âYeah!â Tendou chimes in, resting his chin on top of your head and folding his arms around your neck from his place behind you. âIâm sure you could take both of us. Right, Wakatoshi?â
So thatâs probably a sign.
đ¤ sunshower /// Atsumu x f!Reader x Osamu
Summary: [Kitsune AU] You find an old Ĺ-Inari shrine in the woods that may not be as abandoned as it looks.
Tags/warnings: Shinto religion, this preview is biased toward tsumu oops, yearning/soft vibes
Status: 3.9k words written out of 5â6k? total
Atsumu was the one who found you.
Thatâs how he likes to talk about it, that he found you, like youâd still be wandering around lost in the woods if it werenât for him. Osamu thinks you would have found your way back home eventually but Atsumu likes it better this way, this framing that makes it seem like they saved you.
Itâs hard for him to tell time linearly the way humans do but you mention once that youâve known them for a year and that seems to fit. Itâs spring now, almost barely tipping into summer, and it was spring when Atsumu found you. He remembers because of the way it was raining: light and tender, a summer rain early in the season, each little drop tapping off a leaf and then rolling into the forest bed to be eaten up by the grass and the soil.
Atsumu likes the rain, likes the sweet earthy smell it makes and the way the plants look so lush and green and alive, like theyâd bleed if he sunk his teeth into them. He was out in the woods because of the rain ('Samu was in the shrine, as usual, attempting to set buckets under the millions of holes in the roof so the rainwater wouldnât pool and rot through the wood underneath). But Atsumu was half asleep in a tree when he heard you crashing through the undergrowth, tripping over ferns and snapping every twig in your path (thought ya might be a bear, he tells you later, thatâs how loud ya were) but he wouldnât really have woken up if he hadnât heard you singing.
(The odd thing is, you werenât actually singing. You remember that day as vividly as they do: the warm, humid air making your skin feel sticky under your yellow raincoat; the tiny raindrops filtering through the canopy and kissing your cheeks; the ink feathering out on the damp xerox of the old map you found in your great-auntâs attic so you could barely make out the âXâ that was supposed to mark the location of the lost Inari shrine⌠You were cursing how stupid youâd been to go on a wild goose chase into the mountains with no cell service and no marked trail to look for a shrine that no one had seen in decades. You definitely werenât singing.)
But Atsumu remembers it differently. No matter how many times you explain that you were just talking to yourself, when he replays the sound of your voice back then (reaching and lilting and falling, the way the birds talk to each other in the early morning, except the music of it was poured into syllables and words), it sounds like youâre singing. He wasnât sure at first, hadnât heard a voice that wasnât Osamuâs in so many years that he gets tired counting them, but then he saw you push into view from between two bushes and he thought, a human!
A girl, tooâit was hard to say at first because you were wearing that weird, slick jacket of yours, so bright yellow it was like an oversized flower blooming out of the grass, but then you tilted your head up to feel the rain on your face and the hood fell down and he knew. Not just a human, a girl! Atsumu wanted to yell for Osamu, make him come and confirm that there was a person wandering around not a mile from the shrine. A real person! Singing and smiling and wiping the rain off her cheeks (does that mean you like the rain, just like he does? did you come out to feel it too?) But he also wanted to surprise Osamu so he hid his tails and his ears and came down from the tree and asked if you had lost your way in the forest, since you were so far from any pathâŚ
When you think back on this yourself youâre amazed that you just went with him: a strange boy (man?) wearing a fox mask and traditional Shinto priest robes, which were somehow pristine white and red despite him having appeared from nowhere in the middle of a dense forest, who told you he had no idea what direction the village was but he could take you to the Inari shrine youâd been searching forâŚwell. Maybe you were too surprised to be wary, or maybe you were just exhausted and lost. But you like to think you had a sense of it even then, the irrational belief that the boy in the woods was not just a boy in the woods.
Atsumu thinks you knew. Humans always understand, even when they try not to⌠He remembers, he took your hand that day in the forest and you saw that the claws on his fingers were too long to be human, and you said nothing because on some level you already felt it. Your skin was cool then, smooth and damp from the rain; he wanted to stop, run his hands up your arms, touch the places on your face where your mouth had been turned up at the corners and press his fingers into your cheeks.
đ¤ corporate ethics /// Kuroo x f!Reader
Summary: [Office AU] The new junior marketing associate just happens to be Kurooâs favorite camgirl, and heâs having trouble keeping his hands to himself.
Tags/Warnings: boss/employee, businessman!Kuroo as a reformed player, camgirl reader, this excerpt has a lil bit of 18+ content đ
Status: 1.2k words written out of 4k? words total
Kuroo doesnât watch porn.
Itâs not, like, a moral principle or something. He has nothing against pornography. As far as he knows, itâs perfectly normal for single men. He just doesnât like itâŚunless itâs you.
When he was in school it was easy. Being a teenager meant being so flooded with hormones that a warm breeze could get him up, and the adrenaline rush of winning a game was better than any big-titted porn actress faking moans into a shit-quality boom mic. Sure, he watched porn back then (what teenage boy didnât?), but it was more out of curiosity than necessity. It was all kind of a mystery at that point, the way it can only be when youâre a clueless virgin and you and all your friends are too busy practicing for the next game to get girls.
Somehow Bokuto was the first one in their friend group to lose his virginity, and the memory of the dumbass self-consciously describing the experience has been lodged in Kurooâs brain for the 10+ years since. âIt wasâŚI donât know. She smelled good. You know how girls always smell good?â Bokutoâs hands twitched and his face was pink. âItâs just reallyâŚsoft.â
Soft was right, Kuroo would reflect when he got laid for the first time a few months later. Soft, warm, wet. Sex was awkward at first, but before he knew it it was more natural than breathing.
It didnât change much after high school, either. He didnât get into volleyball for the groupies, but they didnât hurt. There were girls when he played for his college team, more girls when he joined a business frat, so many girls he couldnât keep trackâŚthey blurred together after a while. It didnât take effort. You donât need game when youâre 6â2 and youâre in the gym 40 hours a week, and you definitely donât need porn.
So he never got into it. Now that heâs promoting volleyball instead of playing, things are more complicated. Kurooâs never been the type who expects things to fall in his lap, but there are so many rules when it comes to dating in the real world. Good morning texts, anniversaries, flowers, parents. Itâs exhausting. One timeâseriously, just one timeâKuroo misses his girlfriendâs birthday to go watch a Jackals game, and the next time he sees her she throws her drink on him in public and keys his car. After that, Kuroo decides that until heâs ready to settle down there will be no more girlfriends. Which means no more reliable sex. Which means resorting to porn.
Which means you.
You, batting your eyelashes at the camera and biting the side of your lip. You, purring and mewing like a kitten. You, lying back on your pretty pink bedsheets in your pretty pink lingerie, sliding your hands between your legs. It takes Kuroo a full month to decide to pay for access to your website (Kenmaâs unsolicited recommendation) but it takes less than five minutes for him to upgrade access to premium. You look like a wet dreamâno, you look like the centerfold of every dirty magazine Kuroo managed to get his hands on when he was younger. Pristine and alluring and so deliciously out of reach.
And you make it so simple. No delicate emotional games with rules Kuroo never bothered to learn. No pretending to care how your day was. You untie the little bows on the side of your panties and lick your fingers and Kuroo just has to take his dick out and watch you. Getting off hasnât been this easy for him since college. Youâre a camgirl, you exist on his computer screen, and thatâs how he likes it.
Which makes it a lot more awkward when Kuroo finds out that the only woman heâs gotten off to in the pastâŚyear, maybe?âŚsomehow just got hired in JVAâs sports promotion department as his junior associate.
Your prim work blouse is buttoned up to the collar and your makeup is different, but he knows itâs you. You have to tell him your name twice because heâs too stunned to respond the first time, and even then he canât summon up more of a response than a curt nod because his mouth tastes like dirt.
You smile a little awkwardly at his cool reception, and the hand youâd extended out to shake swings back down to your side. âUm, the guy at HR said he sent up my info yesterdayâŚIâll be working directly underneath you?â
Directly underneath me. Kuroo is taking a sip of his coffee when you say this. He doesnât spit it out, but itâs close.
#haikyuu x reader#ushijima x reader#tendou x reader#atsumu x reader#osamu x reader#kuroo x reader#hq x reader#haikyuu#ushijima wakatoshi x reader#tendou satori x reader#atsumu miya x reader#osamu miya x reader#kuroo tetsuro x reader#haikyuu imagines
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Baby Steps (A Good Man)
A/N: Hello my sunshines! Iâm back with another little installment of the AGM âverse with our favorite Javi and Dulzura! I love them so much and Iâm glad yâall do too! I hope you guys enjoy! As always, comments and feedback are welcome, and if youâd like to be tagged let me know! Xx
*can be read as a standalone or part of the âverse as a whole*
Pairing: Professor! Javi x Fem!Reader
Word Count: 5.8k
Warnings: language, pregnant!reader
A GOOD MAN âVERSE MASTERLIST
MASTERLIST
JAVIER MASTERLIST
ââââ-ăâĄăââââ-ÂŤÂŤ
âMrs. PeĂąa?â the sound of your name still surprised you, despite the fact that the students had been calling you for several months now. A grin worked its way onto your face as you looked at the young boy who was watching you with wide, eager eyes. Putting your pen down, you motioned for him to continue, âwill you come outside and play with us?â
âYou want me to hang out with you guys?â you almost laughed at the idea that any kid deemed you worthy of spending time with them, âI thought teachers were lame, Mikey?â
âSome of them, but not all of them! Youâre pretty cool,â he smiled and displayed his toothy grin. How were you supposed to say no to him? You nodded and stood up, taking the hand he was holding out to you, âbesides weâre playing kickball and we need one more person!!â
âI should have known you were just using me for my exceptional skills,â you pretended to be hurt as he pulled out of the building and into the playground, where the sun was shining brightly.Â
Normally, youâd have turned him down, opting to get some work done during the lunch period, but decided you might as well indulge him and yourself. You really enjoyed the kids you had this year, and it was a gorgeous early spring day.Â
ââââ-ăâĄăââââ-ÂŤÂŤ
Turns out, kickball with a bunch of seven and eight year olds was not as simple as it seemed. They seemed to come up with all sorts of nonsense rules, and on top of it all, they happened to be extremely competitive. And yet...you were thoroughly enjoying yourself - and glad you had opted to wear jeans today instead of a skirt or dress. Javi had been particularly fond of the tight, high-waisted jeans that hugged you in all the right places, getting very handsy before you both had to leave for work. Typical Javier; not that you minded of course.Â
âCome on, give us a good one, Mrs. P!â Mikey yelled at the top of his small lungs as you proceeded to kick the ball that was rolled at you. You offered up a firm kick, but not one you would have used if youâd been playing with only adults. Taking unfair advantage was something you definitely didnât want to do.
As soon as your foot made contact with the red rubber ball, you watched it whistle through the air before running to the first base. But...it was over before it started as you ran and then immediately proceeded to trip over your slightly untied shoelaces. You made contact with the hard earth before you knew and rolled your ankle in the process.Â
You landed with a mixture of an annoyed sigh and a loud oof as you chided yourself. You should have made sure they were properly tied before doing anything. The kids clambered around you, faces anxious as they tried to make sure you were okay. Physically you were sure youâd be just fine, but mentally your pride was wounded. Oh, to make a fool of yourself in front of a bunch of children.Â
âIâm alright,â you promised as you slowly rose to your feet; an instant tinge of pain shot through your ankle and leg as you almost lost your balance again. Maybe you were hurt⌠âitâs alright - you guys go back to playing and Iâm going to go back to the classroom and sit for a moment. I might have twisted my ankle.â
They nodded, but gave you wary looks as you hobbled back inside the building. You should have remained the umpire and refused to play; you were obviously not coordinated enough for any of this. Slumping back in your chair, you rolled up your pant leg and hissed at the sight of the already swollen ankle. Shit.
âYouâd better get that checked out,â Anna, one of the teachers from across the hall looked at you with a pained expression, âlooks painful.â
âNothing some rest and elevation wonât fix,â you insisted as you slumped against the back of the chair, âIâm too old for this! When did I become an adult?"
âHey, at least they think youâre cool,â she huffed playfully, âthey never ask me to play! But seriously, that looks pretty bad. And it happened at work, you know how they get about stuff like that.â
âFineeee,â you groaned, âIâll go to the school nurse.â
âI would recommend an actual urgent care or ER visit,â she raised an eyebrow, âbesides, you know how Javi gets - he'll flay us all if he thought we werenât looking out for you.â
âHeâs...something else.â
âHeâs amazing,â she reminded as you nodded in agreement. For how much of a worrywart he could be, you knew it was all out of love, ânow go and get it checked out. Iâll handle getting the sub in and telling everyone. You have enough to worry about. Can you make it okay, or will you need a ride? Should I call Javi?â
âI can drive myself,â you promised, thankful it happened to your left foot and not the right, âIâm not going to bother my darling, overprotective husband just yet. Not until I can confirm that nothing is actually wrong. I donât want him to stress over nothing, and Iâm sure by the time he gets home tonight he���ll just be laughing at me and my clumsiness!â
âAlright,â Anna grabbed your purse and handed it to you, as you managed to slink out of the chair, âgo get checked out and feel better. If you need anything at all, just call me.â
âThanks for all of your help,â you hobbled towards the door, trying to keep as much weight off of your foot as possible, as Anna grimaced at you, âI swear itâs not that bad - worse than it looks.â
âSure, sure,â she disagreed politely, ânow quit stalling and go get help!â
ââââ-ăâĄăââââ-ÂŤÂŤ
The white walls and bright lights of the exam room were enough to rattle your nerves, even if just ever so lightly. You sat on the examination bed and tried to keep yourself calm as you waited for the nurse to come back and begin examining you. Nothing but the distant sounds of people outside and the tick-tock of the aging clock met your ears. You almost wish youâd called Javier just to have some company. Shit.
âMrs. PeĂąa?â a kind looking woman, maybe around Javierâs age poked her head in as you nodded, âsorry for the wait, weâre pretty busy right now. Youâre here for a rolled ankle?â
âYeah,â you answered as you relaxed at her comforting presence as she came in and sat on her rolling stool, eyes immediately dropping your swollen and irritated ankle, âI was playing with my kids outside - kickball - and then tripped over my own damn feet and ta da!â
âWere you at home when this happened? Playing with your kids?â
âOh no, Iâm a teacher,â you quickly explained, a warm flush rising up your cheeks at the thought of children, âit was on their lunch break at school. I-I donât have any children of my own.â
You werenât sure why you felt the need to offer up a clarifying statement.
âI see,â she made a few notes before turning back to you, âit looks pretty bad, to be quite frank. Iâm going to assume it wasnât a break, a sprain rather, from how youâre managing, but weâll need to do some x-rays to confirm. Weâll do your blood work as well just to make sure everything is in order. Before we do x-rays or anything - are you pregnant?â
âNo,â you admitted, looking at your feet as you tried not to sigh. It had been on your mind recently, and you werenât sure quite what to make of your own feelings on the matter. While you hadn't been actively trying, you couldn't help but wonder if it would ever happen.
âAny chance you could be?âÂ
âUmm,â you twiddled your thumbs as you shrugged your shoulders, âI-I suppose. Iâm not on birth control and my husband and I donât use protection...weâve been trying but not trying if that makes sense? But my cycleâs been regular so I highly doubt it.â
âOkay,â the scratching of her pen on paper was almost maddening as she was making notes and you just sat there. You could curse yourself for babbling on to her, but you couldnât really help it. Besides, itâd be better for them to know all the details if they were going to x-ray and poke and prod you, âvery good. Let me just go get everything and weâll get started and a better look at everything. Weâll have you set and on your way in no time.â
ââââ-ăâĄăââââ-ÂŤÂŤ
âHere you go,â you scratched Stevieâs ears as you offered him a treat, a scrap of carrot from the vegetables you were chopping up for dinner, âwhat do you think, buddy? Should we tell him tonight?â
âShould we tell who and what tonight?â Javiâs voice startled you so much that you almost dropped your knife. You hadnât even heard him come in, ever the sneaky DEA agent as he walked into the kitchen. A smile was on his face as he came over to you and pressed a soft kiss to your lips, âhi baby.â
âJ-Javi,â you couldnât help but melt into his touch, despite his surprise arrival, âyouâre home!â
âOh very observant of you, Dulzura,â he teased as he pulled back and started to undo his tie. It was only then that he noticed you werenât wearing what you had earlier in the day; you were in one of his sweaters and a pair of joggers and⌠âwhat the hell happened to your ankle?!â
There it was - Javier switching into overdrive. You put everything down on the counter and turned to him, putting on your most innocent and sheepish expression. His large, warm hands found your face as he looked you over to make sure you were okay.Â
âItâs nothing, Javi,â you promised him, âI swear it. Itâs just a bad sprain, but I went and had it looked at and they wrapped it and gave me pain killers. Itâs umm...a stupid little story actuallyâŚâ
âWhat happened?â he bent down and reached out to tentatively and delicately cheek the binding to make sure the nurse had properly tended to your sprain. He made a small sound of disgruntled satisfaction before standing up and waiting for a proper explanation, âwhy didnât you call me?â
âI didnât want to worry you, Javier,â you promised as he crossed his arms over his broad but acquiesced with a nod, âyouâre so busy, and honestly, it wasnât a big deal at all. Besides, Anna was ready to call you immediately, but I told her not to worry. All that happened was that I was outside with the kids and we were playing kickball and I tried over my laces, fell, and twisted my ankle. It hurts, but no fracture or anything.â
Javierâs lips twitched as he tried not to laugh, his shoulders shaking with effort as he just studied you, âare you....are you serious, Dulzura?â
âDonât laugh at me!â you pouted as he started laughing at your dismal nod when you confirmed that that was what actually happened, âthey thought I was cool and how was I supposed to say no to them!? Iâm the cool teacher to them!â
âAnd look what that got you,â he snickered as you sighed heavily, âIâm sorry - Iâm sorry. As long as youâre okay, thatâs what matters. Whatever you need, just tell me the word and Iâll make sure you have it. Iâll take good care of you, Dulzura.â
âI know you will...you always do,â your heart raced as you tried to decide whether or not to tell him the rest of your revelations. But then he looked at you with those eyes, those soft brown, gentle eyes, and your heart melted. He gently pulled you into his arms as he kissed you again, chasing after your soft, sweet lips with his own, seemingly never able to get enough of you, âJavier, I love you.â
âI love you too,â you felt him smile against your lips, âwhatâs brought on your sudden declaration of love, mi alma?â
âI...Iâm pregnant,â you blurted it out without even really thinking about it. Javier pulled back as a surprised expression crossed his features. He looked at you, seemingly in a state of shock, before opening and closing his mouth a few times, âJavi?â
âYouâre pregnant?â he repeated as you nodded. It took about a moment for everything to finally come full circle as he finally realized what you had said. Immediately, an overwhelming wave of emotion came over you as you felt the back of your eyes start to sting with tears. He grabbed your face and slowly crashed his lips back onto yours and kissed deeply and slowly, âholy shit.â
âI know,â you beamed at him, âthey asked before they did x-rays and blood work and then well...they discovered I was pregnant. I had no clue and then they told me and yeah - holy shit."
âThatâs amazing,â he said softly, âpregnant....â
âI know,â you breathed him in and ran a hand through his dark curls, âIâm not far along, only like six weeks, so itâs still very early, but yes. Weâre finally having a baby, Javier!
âI donât know what I ever did to deserve you,â he whispered as he wrapped his arms around and held you in a tight embrace, âI love you so much.â
âYou deserve this - everything. You are such a good man, Javier, and I am so honored to call you my husband, and the father of my child,â he almost melted under your praise as you traced along his features before resting your hand on his cheek, âI love you, Javi. I am so excited for this.â
âMe too,â he agreed, âthis is everything - you are everything.â
ââââ-ăâĄăââââ-ÂŤÂŤ
3 months pregnant
âDulzura?â Javier yawned as he wiped the sleep from his eyes as he got up and found you in the kitchen, peering into the fridge. You were in the mood for...something. You just werenât sure what that something was. Everything sounded good but nothing seemed to satiate that craving you had deep within, âwhat are you doing up?â
âI couldnât sleep,â you admitted, hoping you hadnât woken him up by accident, âand I got hungry. Iâm sorry if I woke you, my love. Go back to bed, Javier.â
âItâs fine,â he insisted as he shuffled into the kitchen and slowly pried you away from the fridge, âsit down, and let me make you something to eat. What sounds good?â
âJavier,â you did as he asked, padding over to the other side of the counter and taking a seat at the bar. You rested your head on your hands as he stifled a yawn, "honey, go back to bed. You're exhausted and you've got back to back classes tomorrow."
"They start in the late morning," he insisted, with a sleepy nod as you just laughed at him. He was such a stubborn man sometimes it drove you crazy - but you knew it came from a place of love and concern, "don't sleep well without you anyways. 's better when you're there."
"Oh, my sweet husband," he reached into the fridge and pulled out some cheese, butter, and your favorite pickled jalapeĂąos. You watched in curiosity as he went to the bread box and grabbed the fresh loaf of bread you'd purchased earlier at the store, "grilled cheese?"
"Grilled cheese with jalapeĂąos," he corrected, a lazy smile tugged up the corners of his mouth. You made a small sound of musing as you realized it didn't sound too bad at all, "and tomato soup, naturally. How does that sound?"
"Sounds delicious," you grinned eagerly as you leaned in to watch him work. You made a small sound of surprise as your stomach rumbled loudly. Apparently you were hungrier than you had thought, "apparently, my stomach and I agree. I think its your daughter that agrees."
At the mention of your baby, Javier paused and smiled, his eyes flitting to your barely visible bump. Some days he still couldn't believe that you were having a baby. You were his wife. What a wild world it was indeed; years ago he'd never dreamed he would have all of this. The Javier that once existed and refused to believe that there was any light in the world could never have pictured any of this.Â
But here you were. Continually proving him wrong. And he loved it all.
"Wait - how do you know we're having a girl?" he asked, suddenly wide awake as he raised an eyebrow at you, "I thought we still need to wait another month or so."
"We do," you grinned at him, "but I just know. I'm sure of it!"
"Well, you do have a fifty-fifty chance of being rightâŚ"
"I have a hundred percent chance of being right," you insisted as you reached over the counter and grabbed the jar of pickled jalapeĂąos and fished a few out, and popped them into your mouth, "don't argue with your pregnant wife, Javier PeĂąa. You of all people should know not to cross someone so dangerous."
He snorted with laughter, suddenly feeling much more awake as he sliced up cheese and turned on the stove, "and if we end up having a son?"
"Then we keep having more until we have a daughter and I am proven right," you plastered on a sweet smile, knowing it would wind him up. You'd never really discussed how many children you wanted or planned on having. It was just a sort of...whatever happens happens type thing. But, if you were being honest, you'd probably have given Javier as many children as he wanted. Your husband fell silent as he watched you for a moment before taking the jar away from, "nothing to add? Silence isn't like you, my love."
"We can have as many as you'd like," he promised, "you're the one doing all the hard work. If you're done after one, then it's fine for me. You already amaze me every day."
"Don't make me cry, Javier," your whole body soaked in the warmth and love from his simple words, "its getting really easy at this point, and you're taking advantage!"
"Sorry," he shot you a wink before leaning over and pressing a soft kiss to your lips, "back to business."
"Hmm," you mused quietly, "I thought kissing me was business."
"I thought you were hungry?"
"Fine," you playfully huffed as he carried on cooking, "Javi?"
"Dulzura?"
"I love you," you beamed at him, the little smile that worked its way onto his face take your breath away - as it always had.Â
"I love you."
ââââ-ăâĄăââââ-ÂŤÂŤ
6 months pregnant
A huff escaped your lips as you tried to reach for the socks and underwear that had fallen out of the laundry basket. It was no easy feat when you couldnât see your own feet anymore. But you were determined to get everything up and off the floor as you walked back towards your bedroom to put away the clean clothes. And you werenât about to give up and ask for help - not yet anyway.
Instead, you opted to awkwardly lower yourself to the floor in order to blindly grab for the discarded items. But it was no use...this was almost harder.Â
âYou alright, Dulzura?â Javier came in and found you struggling, cleaning his dirty hands off on a rag. Heâd been working outside, getting the garden spruced up as the summer slowly came to an end, âcanât reach?â
âI can,â you stuck your tongue out at him as he huffed with laughter, but motioned for you to go on. Wanting to prove that you were right, and werenât completely helpless after all. It hadnât been easy having to give up a lot of the things you used to be able to do with ease as you progressed in your pregnancy. The fact that none of your pants would fit over your belly anymore had been a point of horror for you - it meant you were truly and actually pregnant, you were actually having a baby. Youâd always known, but that had been what made it all extremely real. Every day you got closer and closer to your due date, it all became a little more real. Exciting - but terrifying.Â
Not being able to see your feet had been another blow. You could hardly get proper shoes on anymore, opting for easy slide ons, which were great for the warmth of summer and didnât matter since you were on summer break along with your kids. It was almost as though Javier could sense your frustration, and heâd often silently help you with getting your shoes on in the morning. He never said a word, knowing he didnât have to. He always told you he loved you in so many ways, often without saying it.Â
You tried to again, dangling your hand along on the floor as you tried again. After watching you struggle for a moment, Javier came over and grabbed everything in one foul swoop before taking your hand in his and helping you upright.Â
âHey,â you pouted at him as he put the items back into your basket, âI almost had it!â
âI know,â he kissed the tip of your nose, âbut I wanted to help. Why can I not help my gorgeous wife?â
âYour very pregnant and easily frustrated wife?â you teased as you started to walk towards the bedroom. He followed after you, swatting at your bum as you squealed in delight, âJavier!â
âCome on, mi alma,â he grinned, âlet me help put everything away.â
âIf I let you help, youâre just going to take me to bed and then Iâll have to wash the sheets again!â
âIâve never heard a single complaint from you before,â as you set the basket on the dresser, he came up behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist before settling a hand on your belly and gently rubbing it a few times. He pressed a few kisses to the side of your neck as you tilted your head to give him easier access, âthere we go, Dulzura. Just like you like it.â
âYouâre the worst,â you teased as you turned your head to kiss him, âyouâre lucky I love you. And Iâm seemingly always in the mood right now - they really werenât kidding about pregnancy making you more horny. Although, Iâve never heard a single complaint from you before.â
âAnd you never will,â he promised, his low in your ear as you tried not to completely let your mind wander too far away, âdo you have any plans for this afternoon, Dulzura?â
âN-no,â you managed to choke out as one of his hands skimmed along the waistband of your leggings. You knew exactly where this was going, and you were loath to stop him, especially as he slowly kept kissing you.
âGood,â he rasped, âbecause I have plans for you. Been thinking about you all day, especially in these tight leggings. You knew exactly what you were doing, didnât you honey?â
âUh huh,â you agreed as his warm hand slipped inside and a shiver ran up your spine, âJavier. Please.â
âDonât worry, mi alma,â he captured your gasp in a sweet kiss, âIâll take good care of you.â
The laundry could definitely wait.
ââââ-ăâĄăââââ-ÂŤÂŤ
9 months pregnantÂ
It was an early, chilling morning as you sipped on some tea as you sat out in the garden. It was probably too cold to be sitting outside, but you were handled up in blankets and didn't care.Â
Christmas was a few weeks away and you enjoyed peeking into the neighbor's yards to see what they all had going on for decorations.
"Are you sure you don't want to come inside?" Javier poked his head out from the sliding screen door, his brow furrowed in concentration, "its freezing! And I have breakfast!"
"I've got blankets and a baby keeping me warm," you reminded him, pointing at your large belly. You were due in a couple of weeks; how time had flown. He jokingly frowned at you, sticking out his tongue. Playfully rolling your eyes, you clambered to your feet and waddled over to him, "fine, hold on you big baby. This is because I want breakfast."
Javier was on his winter break from teaching and you were on maternity leave now and you definitely didn't mind having him around all the time. If you could have always had it this way, you definitely wouldn't have minded.
"I'm just looking out for you," he insisted with a pout as you pressed a kiss to his lips, "I talked to PapĂ . He's really excited to come in a few weeks - more like excited to meet his grandbaby."
"I'm not complaining at all," you insisted, knowing there would be many sleepless nights and chaotic days ahead of you, "we'll need all the help we can get. Hell, maybe we can convince Steve and Connie to come and visit tooâŚ"
"I'm sure we'll have all the help in the world between our families and friends, Dulzura," he promised as he took your hand and pulled you into the warm kitchen, putting a plate of breakfast for you on the counter, "I'm sure we'll get sick of having so many people around."
"I guess we'll just have to wait and see," you took a bite and smiled as Stevie laid by your feet. The whole house was warm and cozy, perfectly decorated for Christmas, with a huge tree and already lots of presents. Javier had really outdone himself this year, seemingly more in the Christmas spirit than you. Honestly, you were feeling a little bit out of it - being so pregnant would do that to you.Â
You watched your husband for a few moments, admiring his profile and lazy smile. Gods, you were still so in love with him. He felt you watching him closely, and turned to you, cooking a dark brow, "what's on your mind, mi alma?"
"Nothing much," you shrugged lightly, feeling a flush of warmth was over you at him catching you, "just thinking about how I love you, and how I'm glad you're here with me, that you knocked me up, and yeah. Are youâŚare you nervous Javi?"
"About the baby?"
"No, about the Astros' odds next season," you snorted as he groaned at your joke, "of course the baby. I'm just...so nervous. Like I feel ready to meet her, but I'm so scared that I'll fuck it up somehow."
"You still think its a girl?"
"Positive," you grinned at him - you'd decided not to find out the sex ahead of time, leaving it a surprise for both of you. You were still convinced it was a girl, Javier was undecided, "we'll find out soon enough!"
"Either way," he brought his plate and sat down next to you, "everything will be alright. You're going to be an amazing mother, Dulzura. You are everything."
"I love you, Javier," you beamed as he gently put a hand on your belly, "I know it'll be alright, but holy shit - I'm so nervous. Its getting so real lately. We're going to be parents."
"Parents," he repeated, "fuck."
"Who would have thought-" you were quickly cut off when you felt the baby flutter round. A small sound of surprise left your lips as you grabbed Javier's hand and placed it on your belly, "she's telling you not to curse."
He was silent for a moment as a smile spread on his features; despite having felt this many times by now, it still continued to surprise him. He couldn't even imagine how it felt for you, "this is...everything."
"I realized I didn't know what to get you for Christmas so I got you a baby instead," you don't know why it came to mind, but as soon as the words left your lips you brought into a fit of laughter - Javier joined in, a brilliant sound that you adored above all.
"Best Christmas present ever," he whispered before leaning in and giving you a gentle kiss - sweet from the syrup and pancakes he had just eaten, "I mean it. I love you both more than you will ever know."
"We love you too," you grinned as he stroked your belly, "I'm glad your class was the only one available and I took it. I'm glad you were a grumpy professor that let me into his office - I was able to work my magic and look where that got us."
He threw his back with laughter, his dark curls shining brilliantly in the light as his eyes crinkled in the corners. You'd never been more glad for subjecting yourself to his class.
"Me too," he whispered as he put a hand on your cheek, "you always were a stubborn thing."
"Some things never change," you stuck your tongue out at him, "I trust your daughter will be the same!"
ââââ-ăâĄăââââ-ÂŤÂŤ
You were humming to yourself as you shuffled around the kitchen and tried to put together a mid afternoon snack when you felt an odd sensation in your lower belly. It caused you to drop the knife on the counter as you held onto the marble and gritted your teeth. Stevie was at your feet in an instant, looking at you with concern.
"Its okay, buddy," you reassured him as the pain passed. Surely it couldn't have been anything too bad...probably just an end of pregnancy pain. Sighing at your nonsense worry, you reached for the knife again but before you reached it, the pain was back, "never mind, shit shit shit."
Trying to keep yourself calm, you leaned against the counter and tried to even your breathing. Contractions. Of course. You were due in a week and you still hadn't been expecting it.
"Javier?" he was down the hall in the second bedroom that had been converted into the nursery, putting away the final touches of clothing. Before he could respond, you felt an odd sensation followed by liquid running down your legs, "Javier!"
"What's wrong, Dulzura?" he rushed down the hall and back into the kitchen, worry etched onto his features as you stood there in shock and clutched at your belly, "honey-"
"My water broke," you said meekly as you pointed to your wet pants, "and I've had a few contractions - I think the baby's coming."
"Okay," he immediately kicked into gear as he remained cool and calm, despite wanting to panic and worry along with you, "its okay. I'm going to get the hospital bag, we'll get you in the car, Stevie to the neighbor, and then we'll go and have a baby."
"You make it seem so simple," you huffed lightly as you tried to channel his inner calm demeanor, "we'll be okay, right? I-I'm scaredâŚ"
"I know, honey," he promised as he kissed the side of your head, "you've done so amazing already, it will all be okay. I'm right here, okay? I'm just going to grab your bag and the dog and we'll go. Ten minutes and we'll be on the way."
"Okay," you agreed as he practically ran down the hall to get your packed bag, "we're going to have a baby, Javi."
"Indeed we are," he agreed with a small smile as he reached for his wallet and keys and stuff for the neighbor to watch Stevie for a few days, "we're having our baby."
Holy shit.
ââââ-ăâĄăââââ-ÂŤÂŤ
âYouâre doing amazing, sweetheart,â Javier praised you as you squeezed his hand after another push. You groaned and gritted your teeth as you glared at him; this was absolute hell, âthe babyâs almost there.â
âShut up, Javier,â you hissed as you got ready for another push, âI am never letting you touch me again! You did this to me.â
âHey - it was a team effort,â he reminded you in a vain attempt at a joke. Your death glare and the squeezing of his hand said it all, âsorry, Dulzura. I love you.â
âI love you too,â you said as you took a deep breath, âbut right now, Iâm blaming this on you.â
âFair enough,â he said as you pushed again. He was sure his hand was going to break.
ââââ-ăâĄăââââ-ÂŤÂŤ
It wasnât much longer before you were laying back and holding the smallest bundle you could ever imagine in your arms. You were somewhere between crying tears of joy and exhaustion, as you stared at your newborn daughter in awe. Javier was sitting next to you, looking down at her, his own eyes glossy as he gently touched her cheek. She had the darkest eyes and a shock of dark hair, already taking after her father. She had come into the world squealing and crying but had fallen asleep almost as soon as Javier held her.Â
âI told you we were having a girl,â you teased him softly, âI was right. Look at her, Javier. Thatâs our daughter. We made her.â
âYou did all the hard work, mi alma,â he whispered as he pressed a kiss to the side of your head, âsheâs beautiful.â
âLucia Luna PeĂąa,â you grinned at your husband, âitâs perfect. I love you both more than you could ever know. Javier...you really are everything to me - the best friend, best husband, and now the best father. Sheâs going to love the hell out of you, just like I do.â
He remained silent for a moment as he looked at the sleeping baby before looking back at you. His whole world was in his arms, and the thought of that alone was enough to overwhelm him with emotion. Heâd never thought he wanted this - a âboringâ job, a home, a wife, and a baby.Â
But here he was. And he had never felt happier, never felt more full of love and life. This was everything.Â
âI love you so much, Dulzura - you and Lucia,â he promised as he rested his head on top of yours, âyou have given me everything, more than you know. Te quiero con todo.â
ââââ-ăâĄăââââ-ÂŤÂŤ
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War & Peace || jhs
â War & Peace â âYour rivalry with Jung Hoseok first began at the tender age of five, right after youâd beamed a cardboard box of crayons straight at his forehead. Heâd bled and itâd later left behind a thin scar that sliced clean through his right eyebrow. You shouldâve felt guilty, but you hadnât. Still didnât.
Heâd had it coming for trying to Compel you to hand them over anyway. And technically, you did hand them over. Just not in the way heâd probably wanted. At least, that was what youâd told the teacher after Hoseok had growled wildly at you from across the playroom table.
But you know what they say; allâs fair in love and war.â
Pairing: Hoseok x Reader
Word Count: 9.9k
Warnings/Genre: Alpha!Hoseok. Omega!Reader. Enemies to lovers. ABO dynamics. Explicit language. Fluff.Slight angst. ClichĂŠ spin-the-bottle scene. Pining. Theyâre both annoying idiots. Competition au(?). Bad puns. Cliche Jackson throwing a party (a party ainât a party if it ainât a Jackson Wang party).
All works here are purely fiction. Everything I write is my intellectual property and therefore belongs to me. Šout-of-jams. Do not copy or repost without permission. That is illegal and you are stealing no matter if you give credit or not.
The room was abuzz.
You paused where you stood at the entrance to the Four Seasonsâ Hotel ballroom. Fingers tightening around the small, black clutch bag in your hand, you let your eyes rove over expensive dresses and suits and quaffed hair and curls. At least the spaghetti strap, two piece off-white dress your mother had bought (and forced you to wear) fit the occasion quite well, so your inherent fear of accidentally standing out wouldnât come to fruition.
Whoever had decorated the ballroom had pulled out all the stops. There were miniature chandeliers hanging from the high ceilings, lights turned to a dim setting. Small-yet-cosy circular tables were spread out evenly, chairs for two either occupied or emptied. A man in a catering ensemble approached you, extending his tray of bubbly champagne. Normally you wouldnât put alcohol of any kind into your body, but youâd make an exception just that once. You took one with a smile of thanks and swallowed a mouthful in an attempt to chase away your nerves.
When your parents had first approached you about attending the matchmaking event, youâd been wary. The events themselves werenât rare; young adults who had yet to find a mate would go to them. They had a ninety-nine percent success rate when it came to matching you. However, you found the whole thing to be quite archaic.
It wasnât that you were against love or finding a mate or anything like that, you just didnât think that attaching yourself to another person for life should be so significant. Youâd been too busy during college getting your degree to date anyone seriously. And youâd never felt the desire to, hadnât needed to.
As an Omega, you were the lowest tier in the societal hierarchy. And as an unmated Omega, you were a rare commodity. It was expected for an Omega to be mated before they even reached their twenties. Something about needing to be taken care of or some other bullshit that you disagreed with. You could take perfectly good care of yourself.
But when youâd come home mateless after graduation to visit your parents before trying to find a job with your degree, theyâd been concerned. Your mother, a fellow Omega, had sat you down and forced you to fill out the overly long, three hundred questionnaire for the matchmaking service. Of course, youâd rolled your eyes, but ended up relenting. Youâd decided that youâd just go to the damn event, let the mysterious matchmakers do their thing, give some excuse to leave sometime in the middle of the thing, and then go home and tell your parents that youâd tried.
You shouldâve known that it wouldnât be that easy.
Glancing down at the dark red card the size of your palm that the woman manning the check-in desk had given you, you memorized the two numbers printed on it. As if you hadnât looked at it a few dozen times already. Just in case. You didnât want to be there, but you werenât about to somehow accidentally embarrass yourself either.
The flared, lace skirt of your dress brushed against your legs while you made your way through the room, eyes scanning the number placards on the table in search of your own. Some of them already had couples sitting at them, engaged in conversation and hiding shy smiles behind dainty hands. Your heels click-clacked against the shiny marble flooring as you weaved between others who were still finding their seats.
Eight, nine, ten, you mentally counted in your head, passing by the white-clothed tables. Eleven.
Your feet halted and you glanced down at your card one last time before looking up. Table twelve was already occupied, leaving a single seat left.
âWow,â you murmured through red painted lips. He looked up at the sound of your voice, soulfully deep brown irises alighting on your form. Dark hair parted perfectly to reveal the smooth, tan skin of his forehead curled above a single one of those eyes. Heart-shaped lips that appeared soft to the touch parted in surprise. âI know you almost failed fifth grade math, but I didnât think you were still this bad at counting.â
"Iâwhat are you doing here?â Jung Hoseok looked so utterly bewildered that it wouldâve been endearing if it had been anyone but him. He subconsciously smoothed a ringed hand down the front of his midnight black satin tux and stared at you like heâd never seen you before.
âWhat are you doing here?â You avoided answering his question with a raised eyebrow.
âWhat does it look like Iâm doing here?â
âIt looks like youâre sitting at my table,â you gestured at the aforementioned seat with your flute of champagne.
âNo, Iâm sitting at my table.â Hoseok tilted his head, sharp jawline standing out and tiny dimples revealing themselves as he pursed his mouth. âItâs not my fault that you canât read.â
âExcuse me?â A sound of indignation sprang from the back of your throat and you dropped your clutch on the table in order to flip around the tiny card in your hand. The number twelve was embedded on it in swirling, looping gold font. âNow move.â
He did not, in fact, move. He just sat there like an impressive impersonation of a statue. The only part of him that moved was when those espresso hued eyes of his widened in either surprise or shock, you didnât know. Nor did you care. Or at least you hadnât until he slowly lifted a hand to show you his own card with the number twelve printed on it.
And then you too, did the best performance you could muster at being frozen solid. As if the universe was attempting to prove that the two of you had, in fact, been matched together, your voices harmonized as you spoke at the same exact time:
âOh, youâve gotta be shitting me.â
         (Seventeen years ago)
Your rivalry with Jung Hoseok first began at the tender age of five, right after youâd beamed a cardboard box of crayons straight at his forehead. Heâd bled, and itâd later left behind a thin scar that sliced clean through his right eyebrow. You shouldâve felt guilty, but you hadnât. Still didnât.
Heâd had it coming for trying to Compel you to hand them over anyway. And technically, you did hand them over. Just not in the way heâd probably wanted. At least, thatâs what youâd told the teacher after Hoseok growled wildly at you from across the playroom table.
The kindergarten classroom had been packed with screaming, rambunctious toddlers. It was an important time in every childâs life â not because that was the age where friendships first began; it was when nature started to reveal itself. When the part of the brain in charge of scent glands that separated the Alphas from the Betas from the Omegas developed.
Youâd been relegated to one of the tables in the corner with all the rest of the soft, floral smelling, shy Omegas. Until the green colored crayon youâd been using to smear across your paper in an attempt at drawing the vast forest outside ran out. The closest resupply of your writing instrument had been lying all the way across the room on one of the empty tables.
Of course, because fate was nothing but a bitch, your quick hands snatched the crayon box up point-two seconds before a pouting Jung Hoseok could. Heâd looked at you with those gentle, chocolate brown eyes of his, and then the first words heâd ever spoken to you passed his heart shaped lips.
âHey, give it!â
And yours to him. âNo way! I got them first, loser!â
The rounded apples of his cheeks puffed up with a scowl, jaw clenched. If heâd been taller than you, maybe he wouldâve been intimidating. But to you, heâd just looked like a fluffed up chicken.
âWell, youâre an Omega and Iâm an Alpha, so you gotta do what I say,â his tongue fumbled over the larger words and he crossed his arms over his chest with a look that told you he thought heâd just won the battle.
âMake me,â scoffing, you leveled him with a glare and waved the box of crayons under his perfectly straight nose.
âFine.â His eyes narrowed and he took a deep breath. âGive them.â His dark irises flashed gold as he laced his words with the power of an Alpha Command.
If he were older and had more of a grip over his powers, perhaps you wouldâve felt compelled. But the only thing that overcame you was annoyance. Your fingers tightened around the box; your arm cocked back. âFine.â
And it went careening straight into his forehead with a crack! that had all heads in the room turning to look back. Sticking your nose in the air, you slipped your stolen green crayon into your dress pocket and skipped back to your table.
That was when your rivalry first started.
And the war began.
Eleven years later and the whole town knew of your blatant dislike for one another. It was difficult not to when the moment the two of you entered the same room, you were immediately at each otherâs throats. Some of the older, more set-in-their-ways Alphas frowned upon your rivalry with Jung Hoseok. Though they were more annoyed at the fact that he never used his Alpha Compulsion to âput his mouthy Omega in her placeâ than anything else.
His. Hearing them call you his never failed to absolutely infuriate you. Like you were nothing other than a piece of property. Like you belonged to the one person in the world who you despised the most. Like you could belong to anyone at all.
Omegas were supposed to cow to Betas, and above all, Alphas. The hierarchy had been around since the beginning of time. Since Alphrina, the goddess of all mankind, had created the first Alpha in her image. They were the strongest of the Three, Betas coming in second and Omegas last.
If Hoseok had been like any other Alpha, then he probably wouldâve long since made you submit to him. But he never had. Lisa, your childhood best friend and the townâs most popular female Alpha, had theorized that maybe he just didnât know how to use his Alpha powers. But you knew better. His pride would never recover if heâd been forced to Compel you into listening to him.
Not even after youâd paid Jeon Jungkook a hefty sum to switch Hoseokâs shampoo bottle during the football teamâs after practice shower with a similar one youâd filled with green hair dye back in high school. Heâd stormed up to your locker the next day, cheeks aflame with rage and jaw clenched while he spat out (true) accusations.
But heâd had no proof that youâd been the one to make him look like a very festive Christmas tree, what with the already bright red strands of his hair stained with streaks of green. Youâd thoroughly made sure that Jungkook would do it while the team was actually showering, so the soap and hot water would wash away any lingering scent of the culprit.
Hoseok had gotten you back, of course, by sticking a huge glob of chewing gum in your hair after youâd fallen asleep on your desk during history class. Youâd cried for two days straight after your mom had to chop off your long locks into a shoulder length bob. And the cycle repeated itself with you taking revenge by stealing the janitorâs keys after school, and hiding a dead fish in Hoseokâs locker to decompose over the two week long Christmas break.
At least your rivalry had stopped anyone else from trying to mess with you due to your Omega status. Either theyâd been too afraid of stepping on Hoseokâs toes, or had just been way too entertained by your antics, you werenât sure. But you werenât complaining, not when you saw how the other Omegaâs in your school had been treated.
It hadnât been good.
At all.
Suffice to say, maybe you would be somewhat grateful for Hoseok if you didnât despise his existence so much.
You blamed your last weekend of your high school career for implanting the seed into your mind. For flip-turning your opinion of Jung Hoseok right upside down. Not that youâd exactly noticed it at first; itâd just kickstarted the slow sliver of doubt that began to fester.
Partying wasnât usually your thing. You didnât have anything against it, nor the people that chose to do so, you just refused to partake in anything that could alter your state of mind. Because being an Omega not in full control of yourself was a dangerous thing to be. But it was the end of mandated schooling and a very important milestone that deserved celebrating.
Which was the exact argument that Lisa had used in order to convince you to go with her and Jennie (a Beta and the most recent addition to your friend group) to the after graduation party. Jackson Wangâs house was unnecessarily massive, most likely due to both of his Alpha parents being on the city council. Heâd somehow been able to convince them to take a weekend vacation and leave the estate in his (ir)responsible hands.
By the time you pulled up with both of your friends, the party was in full swing. Cars littered the curved driveway all the way down to the street below. (And seeing as how the Wang Estate was fifty acres, that was a long way down.) Music poured out from the opened front doors, heavy bass rattling the windows of Lisaâs Nissan.
You pressed your nose against the passenger side glass with a grimace. Fiddling with the overly tight dress that Jennie had forced you into, you sighed deeply.
âOh, come on, Y/n, itâll be fun,â Jennie leaned forward from the backseat to cheer encouragingly.
âI didnât even say anything,â you argued and finally turned away from the steadily approaching mansion.
âYou didnât have to. You have that I-Donât-Want-To-Be-Here face,â Lisa spoke up from the driverâs seat, eyes intently focused on finding a parking spot.
You snorted. âThatâs because I donât. Being surrounded by loud, drunk Alphas and Betas isnât the most appealing way to spend my Friday night, thank you very much.â Â
âWe already told you that weâre going to watch out for you tonight.â Lisa made a noise in the back of her throat when she finally found somewhere to leave her vehicle.
âExactly. Remember what happened last time some asshole Beta harassed you?â
âYou mean the time Lisa almost got arrested when she fought that guy in the McDonaldâs line?â
âYup, thatâs the one.â
âIâm still mad I never got my McDouble,â Lisa sighed forlornly and cut the engine to her car.
âAll you think about is food,â Jennie laughed, quickly scrambling out of the car before Lisa could turn around and swat at her leg.
âWell, sheâs not wrong.â The only thing that saved you from your best friendâs wrath was the fact that you were faster than she was.
Inside the house was just as youâd expected: crowded, loud, so many smells and sounds that had your heightened senses almost crying from overstimulation. You followed Jennie and Lisa to the kitchen for them to make themselves drinks (and to snatch up a can of soda for yourself).
Somehow, somehow, your night ended up with Lisa shoving her tongue down some poor Betaâs throat, and you stuck sitting in a circle in the basement of Jackson Wangâs overly large house. Playing a game of spin-the-bottle with a group of people that you barely knew. Well, most of them anyway.
And you hadnât intended to play at all, hadnât had any interest in it, but one look at your mortal enemyâs shit-eating grin sitting across from you had made you stop yourself right before you bowed out. Because you knew for a damn fact that if youâd tried, he wouldâve ended up saying something to try and embarrass you.
So instead, you reached out and watched intently as the beer bottle spun around and around and around and around. The green hue of the glass gleamed beneath the dim, blue lights in the basement tauntingly. Everything slowed down, your heartbeat thundered in your eardrums, the music faded into the background. You thought itâd never stop.
Until it did.
A hush fell around the group as you sluggishly trailed your eyes upwards and locked them onto your apparent make-out partner. Fate was a bitch and your life was nothing but a cosmic joke. Because of course, of course, clichĂŠs wouldnât be clichĂŠs if they werenât clichĂŠs.
And god you hated clichĂŠs.
âEw no,â slipped out of your mouth unhindered before you could even think to form the syllables.
Directly across the circle, Hoseok raised a perfectly shaped dark eyebrow. (You hated he looked so good even when his hair was such an obnoxious and unflattering shade of red.) That annoying, self-assured smirk tugged at the corner of his coral hued, heart-shaped mouth. âAfraid?â
Everyone around the circle had fallen silent, choosing to sit back and watch the drama unfold instead of talking over it. Like you were some kind of live entertainment, their heads bouncing back and forth between the two of you. So when you scoffed, it was loud enough that every ear could hear it.
âIâm not afraid, I just donât want you touching me because youâve slept with so many people. I donât know where youâve been.â
âCareful, you sound a little jealous there, L/n.â A second eyebrow jumped up to join the first and Hoseok leaned his weight forward. That insufferable smirk grew.
âJealous?â Now it was your turn to raise an eyebrow. âAs if Iâd ever be jealous of anything involving you, Jung.â
âItâs okay to admit it,â he shrugged casually. âIf you ask me, I think itâs kind of flattering. Sad and a little pathetic, but flattering.â
âWhat would I possibly be jealous of? Didnât you have an STD last month?â You shot back with an unamused snort.
He did that thing again where the apples of his cheeks puffed up and his mouth pursed. While that expression had made him appear very non-intimidating in the past, with puberty had come the sharpening of his jawline and the development of high cheekbones. Maybe if it were any other Alpha looking at you like that, your inner Omega wouldâve been cowering. But witnessing someone pee their pants and then cry about it in the first grade tended to make it impossible to see them as menacing.
âThat was just a rumor!â Hoseok glared, face beginning to pink beneath the stares of everyone in the room.
âThatâs not what Sulgi said,â you hummed. âYikes.â
âYouââ
âAs entertaining as this foreplay is to watch,â Jacksonâs deep voice piped up, leaning back on his hands from where he sat between two girls you didnât recognize. âIâd like to take my turn sometime tonight. So either kiss or go fight out in the parking lot, I donât care.â
Hoseokâs eyes narrowed for a fraction of a second, more than likely contemplating arguing with the party host (you knew he didnât like being ordered around, especially by another Alpha), before a spark of mischievous amusement lit up his mocha colored irises and he turned back to you, head tilted. âI would love to move on, but L/n over here is too afraid to.â
Your lip curled. âI already told you that Iââ
âNervous then? I bet that you havenât even been kissed before, have you?â
Even though he was correct, you refused to allow him to know it. So youâd never kissed someone before, who cared? People graduated high school all the time without locking lips with someone else. And it wasnât like youâd never had the chance toâyouâd had plenty of dating offersâyouâd just never found any of them worthy enough to kiss. That was it.
Not that Jung Hoseok needed to know that.
So you lied.
âOf course I have.â
âOh really.â It wasnât a question. âWho?â
âThatâs none of your business,â you sniffed.
Hoseok looked like a wolf right before it pounced on its prey: smug. âThen whatâs the problem then? Afraid youâd like it?â
âWow, I donât know how you fit through the door with your ego as inflated as it is. Like Iâd ever enjoy kissing you. It took Sulgi months to shut up about how bad you are at it.â
His haughty expression dropped from his face and his stare darkened at the blatant insult. You realized your mistake the very moment that the challenge sparked within his eyes. He stood slowly, gaze locked on your own as he stepped over the bottle in the middle of the floor. When he reached you, his hand shot down and grasped onto your upper arm, lifting you from your cross-legged seat and onto the soles of your shoes.
âWhaââ He cut off your indignant protest with his mouth before it could fully form.
The last thing you ever would have expected was for Jung Hoseok to kiss you, let alone softly. For his mouth to press against yours with just enough pressure to be labeled as delicateâlike the tickling of butterfly wings. He trapped your bottom lip between both of his, slender fingers threading through the hair at the nape of your neck. You shouldnât have let him touch the most sensitive part of your body. Shouldnât have instinctively liked it.
Shouldnât have let your eyes flutter closed and kissed him back. But you were too wrapped up in his strong scent, the warmth of his skin, the gentle exhaling of air as he breathed, the lingering taste of the alcohol from his emptied cup. One kiss turned into two, into three, into four. Until your hands came up to grasp the material of his shirt between your fingers.
Jung Hoseok kissed you like youâd always wanted to be kissed. Slowly and softly and warmly. When his tongue slipped between your lips and touched yours, it wasnât with the roughness of someone trying to take control. It was a dance; one where he took the lead subtly and you willingly let him do it.
His hand on your arm found your waist and pulled you close, pressed your fronts together until there was no longer any space separating you. A sigh escaped when his tongue brushed against yours more firmly, more determined to have you melting and pliant beneath his touch. Until you had to swallow a whimper when he finally pulled away.
He didnât go far, just enough to look at you down the slope of his straight nose, pupils blown wide and eyelids heavy and mouth kiss-swollen. You hated him then, in that moment, more than you ever had before. Hated him for stealing your first kiss. Hated him for making you want to lean forward and pull him back until you could no longer breathe. Hated him for dropping his hands from your heated skin with a wink and that knowing smirk of his.
Hated him.
The rest of the game had been a blur after that. Youâd sat back down between Jennie (ignoring her imploring expression) and a Beta whom you couldnât even process the face of. You didnât spin again, had been content to just sit next to your friend and sip at your almost empty can of soda.
And you hated, hated, hated yourself for noticing that Hoseok never took another turn either.
              (Present Time)
Youâd been content with the fact that youâd never have to see your rival again after that night. With high school finally over, you would be going off to college on the other side of the country and would finally be free. To say that youâd been ecstatic wouldâve been an understatement. There would be no more biting comments aimed at you in the hallway, no more having to be paranoid about being the victim of another of Hoseok and his friendâs pranks.
No more Hoseok.
It had been a glorious, stress-free (to an extent) four years of your life. Both Lisa and Jennie had applied to and been accepted to the same university as you, so youâd split the rent three ways and moved in together. City life had been a difficult adjustment, a culture shock, but now you were used to it and absolutely loved it.
Which meant that fate had to come around and fuck things up.
Silence had fallen between both you and Hoseok. All around you, couples sitting at the other tables in the expansive ballroom were jabbering away, getting to know one another to see how compatible they were. Laughter and glasses clinking harmonized together with the gentle music playing from the hotel speakers hidden somewhere you couldnât see.
Youâd collapsed bonelessly into your seat after the shock of being matchmade with your mortal enemy wore off. Now you were just annoyed. At your parents for making you go to the stupid thing, at yourself for not lying on your questionnaire, at the universe for existing. At Hoseok for existing. There was a lot to process.
Obviously, the matchmaking service was flawed, false, fake, inaccurate. And you were glad that you hadnât been excited for the event in the first place, because you wouldâve been dead by now. Reason of death? Disappointment. How in the world someone could think you and Hoseok were compatible at all was a complete mystery to you.
Glancing up from where youâd been glaring at your still half full flute of champagne, you eyed your unwelcome companion. Hoseok was looking out into the crowded room, stare blank as his mind went somewhere you had no interest in trying to follow even if you could. Four years had passed since youâd last laid eyes on him and in that time heâd changed physically, but also still looked the same.
No longer was he the teenager whoâd yet to grow into his cheekbones, though he still had those broad shoulders and large hands and muscular-yet-slim athletic build. Heâd always been handsomeânot that youâd ever tell him that, even if your life was at stakeâand his looks had only matured. Hoseok was all angles and sharp lines and deep set eyes framed by long lashes that always made you secretly jealous.
Which only fueled your puzzlement.
âWhy are you here?â
He blinked, snapping out of whatever thoughts were running through his mind and turned back to you. âWhat?â
âWhy are you here,â you asked slowly, tongue spelling out each of the syllables like he couldnât understand you otherwise.
Hoseokâs eyes narrowed. âI thought we already had this conversation.â
Scoffing, you crossed your arms. âI meant here as in this stupid event looking for a mate, not this stupid table.â
âWhy are you? Already scared off everyone on the other side of the country with your annoying personality?â Four years later and he still had that infuriating smirk, that quirk of his lips that had your blood pressure instantly spiking.
âAre you here because youâve slept with the whole town already?â
Humming, Hoseok tilted his head to the side in fake contemplation. âYour jealousy is showing again, L/n.â
âYour inflated ego is showing again, Jung.â
âOh? If Iâm recalling correctly, thatâs exactly what you said years ago, right before you slobbered all over my chin.â
âMe? Me? Says the one whoââ
âCould I have everyoneâs attention please?â A womanâs voice cut through your heated response. Somewhere between the time the conversation had first begun and now, both you and Hoseok had gone from putting as much distance between the two of you as possible, to practically falling on top of the table to spew insults at one another.
With one last glare, you turned to look over your shoulder at the well-dressed blonde woman standing on the stage near the front. The material of her designer jumpsuit shimmered beneath the lights as her manicured hand held a microphone to her glossy, smiling lips. âHello everyone! Iâd like to welcome you to this yearâs MateMakingââ
Hoseokâs quiet scoff echoed your own at the sound of the horribly unwitty play on words. His annoyed scowl also mirrored yours when you turned back to throw him one.
ââevent! I can see that everyone has already found their mate-tastic partners for the evening.â She winked, earning a few light, nervous giggles from the crowd. âThere are a few house rules that we must go over before we can officially begin. For starters, there will be no exchanging of partners. Secondly, a limit of two alcoholic beverages per person has and will be implemented. And last but not least, please make sure to enjoy yourselves! Now, onto the mateââ another wink ââevent.â
âThe grand prize for the lucky couple who wins tonightâs competition has been graciously donated by the Four Seasons Hotel.â She held up her fingers as she listed them, but you were too busy hanging onto her previous statement. âA free, one night stay in the penthouse suite tonight, an unlimited tab at the bar down the hall, and,â she paused in an attempt to build up the anticipation. âEight hundred dollars cash.â
âCompetition,â you questioned under your breath. What the hell did she mean by that? Wasnât the whole event supposed to just be a glorified blind date? You threw a glance over your shoulder at Hoseok, who was too busy mouthing the words âeight hundred dollarsâ to pay you any attention.
âNow if you could all please leave your seats and gather onto the dance floor with your partner, we can begin.â The sound of chairs pushing back from tables echoed around the room and you watched as the people closest to the large opening in the middle of the floor started congregating.
Confused, you blindly rose to your feet and looked to see Hoseok doing the same. âWhat the hell is going on? I thought this was supposed to be about matchmaking?â
He blinked once, twice, before a laugh bubbled up his throat. âDid you not read the details of the event?â
âWhat details?â Your cheeks were slowly turning pink in embarrassment, you could feel it, and also couldnât help it.
âYouâre really telling me that you missed the giant, bold letters on the website?â
âWhat bold letters?â Weaving through the emptying tables, you tried your best to keep up with him on your shorter legs.
Hoseok tutted. âAnd you always tried to say that I was the stupid one.â He looked down at you once he finally found a spot on the floor that he liked, humor dancing across his face. You were just far away enough from the two coupled next to you that you couldnât hear their conversations without trying to eavesdrop.
Annoyed, you smacked a hand against his arm and hissed, âJust tell me, asshole!â
âOwch.â He rubbed where youâd hit him, faking a grimace like youâd ever be able to actually hurt him. âIs that how you talk to someone youâre trying to get to help you?â
Your mouth opened to let out another string of character attacking profanities, but he halted them by holding up a hand. âThis is a matchmaking event, but itâs also a competition. One that Iâm not going to lose, not with that prize money on the line.â
âOh,â you responded. Well, that explained some of it, but. âWe.â
âWhat?â
âOne that weâre not gonna lose,â you corrected him, mind already reeling with what you could use all of that cash for. âWe win and split the money.â
âWhat makes you think that Iâd want to split it with you?â A raise of his eyebrow.
A roll of your eyes. âLike you have any other choice. Do you see any other person you can impose your irritating presence on?â
A pause in the air. Pursed lips. Then: âFine.â
âFine.â
An agreement.
A temporary ceasefire just in time for one of the workers of the event to reach your side and gift the two of you with a bright green, inflated balloon. He walked off with the parting instructions not to pop it before making his way down the line and giving one to each couple he passed.
âThe first stage of tonightâs competition,â the woman MCing (you were pretty sure sheâd introduced herself, youâd just hadnât been paying attention) addressed the crowd. âIs a slow dance to test you and your partnerâs ability to be gentle with one another, both with the body and the heart. You must take the balloons that you have and put it in between your bodies.
âWhenever you hear the music change, you and your partner must step closer to each other. The last seven out of our ten couples that succeed in not popping the balloon or letting it fall to the ground will move on to the next round. Those of you who do not pass, will be shown to the bar across the hall to better get acquainted. Let us begin! Donât be shy, everyone get into position.â
A few chuckles filtered throughout the room, balloons squeaking and strangers lightly conversing as they tried to follow the instructions. You looked up at Hoseok who looked back down at you with the medium sized balloon clutched in his hand.
He tilted his head to the side and wiggled the piece of rubber and hot air. âAre you going to come closer or not? Donât pretend like you donât want to touch me.â
âTrust me when I say that I donât have to pretend,â you huffed, but stepped closer. One of his hands shot out to wrap around your waist, long slender fingers spreading across the whole expanse of the small of your back. You did your best to ignore the heat that bled from his body like a leech, and placed your left hand on his right shoulder.
With the balloon now firmly in place between the two of you, Hoseok took up your free hand with his just in time for the music to start pouring over the speakers. It wasnât anything that you recognizedâsome indie song where the singer crooned lyrics about love or beauty or whatever. You didnât care enough to pay attention.
âYou better not step on my feet,â you spoke as the two of you swayed side to side, just loud enough for him to hear, but not enough for the slow dancing couples around you.
âMe? Step on your feet?â Hoseok gave you a look of disbelief. âArenât you the one who broke Felix Leeâs foot at prom?â
âNo.â At the raising of his brows, you rolled your eyes and looked at some point over his shoulder so you wouldnât have to meet his skeptical stare. âOkay, so maybe.â â he snorted â âBut that had nothing to do with dancing!â
âYouâve always been a horrible liar, L/n.â
âAnd youâve always been horrible at telling the truth, Jung.â The song changed into something a little more upbeat, one you thought you might have heard a time or two. Unfortunately, you had to step an inch closer to the man steadily guiding you around the dance floor.
A pop! resounded from the other side of the room as the first couple was eliminated. Squeaking from the balloon cushioned between both of your chests had your conversation pausing for a moment before it picked back up.
âWhat is that supposed to mean?â
âOh, you know what it means.â
âBelieve it or not, L/n,â Hoseok began, âBut I would never claim to know what goes on in that cluttered mind of yours.â
âIâwait,â you narrowed your eyes. âHow do you know who I went to prom with?â
His mouth opened and closed, obviously ready to swing at you with another comeback before your question caught him off guard. âWhat?â
âHow did you know that I went to prom with Felix?â Another change of the song had you automatically taking another step forward. âI thought you didnât go to prom.â
âHow did you know that I didnât go to prom?â Hoseok fired back, avoiding the question.
âOh, please,â you took a breath through your mouth and immediately regretted it when his strong, husky scent invaded your senses and lingered on your tongue. âIf you were there, you wouldâve been up my ass all night.â
âNow whoâs the one with the inflated ego? Everyone was talking about how youâd stomped on him with your ogre feet the next day of school.â He didnât make eye contact when you looked back at him, his gaze trailing over your head.
You raised an eyebrow. âNow whoâs the horrible liar?â
âIâm not lying.â
âI donât believe you.â
âAnd I donât care.â
âLiar.â
âTruther.â
âTruthâ what â what even is that?â
âItâs exactly what it sounds like.â
âWhich is?â
Hoseokâs lips pulled back into a grin, tiny dimples popping into place and white teeth kissing the air. âA truther.â
âYouâre so annoying,â the words were supposed to sound annoyed, but you couldnât help the amused upwards twitch of your mouth.
âI donât think you have any room to talk, sweetheart.â
You blinked at the pet name. That was new. âSweetheart?â
Hoseok didnât respond right away. He just stared down at you past his perfectly shaped nose, dark eyelashes framing brushing the apples of his cheeks. And for the first time in as long as you could remember, you realized that you couldnât read the thoughts lingering behind his softly bright eyes. Silence lingered for one moment, two, and then his heart shaped lips parted andâ
Pop!
You started, jerking back in surprise and Hoseokâs grip on you was the only thing that prevented your balloon from falling to the floor. Pop! Next to you, a couple let out noises of disappointment as they watched the remnants of their popped balloon scatter beneath their feet. They must have frightened another pair of people in the center of the dance floor because theirs popped as well.
âAnd that concludes our first round!â The MC spoke out over the crowd. âCongratulations to those who have made it though. Now letâs see if your luck persists during round two!â
You looked at Hoseok and he looked back, previously open expression dropped. No words were exchanged, but you already knew that the conversation would be dropped.
Hoseokâs back was warm from where it pressed up against yours, the chairs you sat in doing nothing to stop it from seeping into your skin. In your hands was a tablet, screen displaying the game that the two of you were about to play. The goal was to âdefuse a bombâ by following the manual filled with instructions. Which sounded easy in retrospect, but seeing as how the only way you could get said instructions was by Hoseok reading them off the packet in his grasp.
You werenât allowed to look at the manual, and he wasnât allowed to look at the tablet screen. And somehow, some way, you were supposed to âdefuse the bombâ in five minutes. The MC had said something about testing your ability to communicate with one another, blah, blah, blah. All you knew was that there was no way you were going to lose the stupid competition.
Even if you had to deal with Hoseokâs frustrated grumbling.
âJust tell me which wire I need to cut, Jung!â Or perhaps it was you who was doing the frustrated grumbling. But eh, semantics. The tablet screen was displaying a section of the âbombâ that had four wires criss-crossing one another and you were only allowed to âcutâ one of them.
âI already told you,â Hoseok grunted. âThe blue one.â
âThereâs two blue ones!â
âThen cut the one thatâs more blue!â
âTheyâre the same color you idiot!â
âStop yelling, Iâm trying to read!â He huffed, the sound of paper turning accompanying it. Around the room, the noise level was a cacophony of people talking over one another. The closer the five minutes got to being over, the higher the voices rose. âIt says, âif there is a red wireâââ
âI only have two blueâs and two whiteâs!â
âCut the first blue wire then.â
âAre you sure?â
âYes, Iâm sure, L/n.â
âFine.â A pause as you tapped on the screen and waited for it to do something. âNothingâs happening.â
âAre you sure?â
âWhy would I lieâoh wait, no, thereâs a little x on the screen. Okay I think weâre good with that one.â You didnât even have to look back to see Hoseokâs face to know that he was rolling his eyes in exasperation. âNow itâs showing a square with four different symbols inside it. What am I supposed to do now?â
âHold on.â He shuffled his papers in search of the next set of instructions. âOkay, it says âalways press symbols higher in the column than lower in the column.ââ
âWhat does that even mean?â
âHow am I supposed to know? Do I look like the game designer?â
âYouâre an Alpha, arenât you supposed to have great leadership skills or something?â
âWhat does that even have to do with this?â
âJust give me the damn instructions, Jung!â
âYouâre so pushy. No wonder youâre still single.â Hoseok didnât give you a chance to respond to his jibe before he continued. âPush the symbol of the pitchfork first, then,â he halted for a second, more than likely trying to find his next words before continuing. âPress the one that looks like a pregnant letter T.â
âA what?â
âI know you know what Iâm talking about!â
You scrutinized the symbols before going with the one he described, not that youâd ever tell him it was pretty accurate. âNow what?â
âNext is the one that looks like a football goal.â (âGod, youâre such a jock.â) âAnd then push the last one.â
Your finger tapped the screen and a noise escaped your throat when all of the panels on the âbombâ turned green and the timer stopped counting down. âOh, hell yes!â
âWhat? Did we beat it?â Hoseokâs head tilted in your direction without him actually having to look back at you.
âFuck yeah!â Okay, so maybe you were shouting a little too loudly and maybe all of the other couples who had yet to finish the game were giving you looks, but it wasnât your fault that you were the first team to win.
âYeah?â Hoseok finally turned to face you, torso twisting in his chair in order to do so. His face was lit up in excitement, the adrenaline of trying to complete the game sparking to life in his beautifully expressive brown eyes.
âYeah!â It was unusual for an Omega to be competitive, but you couldnât help your inherent desire to win. If you were to analyse it, a therapist would probably say that it was more than likely due to growing up competing with the man who sat at your back. (But you werenât a therapist.)
You werenât sure who went for it first, who moved, who decided to cross that boundary. But one moment you were looking up at his face, and the next your nose was pressed into the junction between his neck and shoulder. Hoseokâs arm was wrapped around your upper back and both of yours were loops around his neck.
The celebratory hug didnât last long, just enough for his scent â gentle and earthy like petrichor right before it rained â before the both of you pulled away like youâd been electrocuted. An awkward silence followed the accidental physical contact and you werenât sure where you were supposed to look. But it wasnât at him.
And you definitely did not miss the feeling of being pressed to his chest.
(Or maybe Hoseok was right and you were a terrible liar. Even to yourself.)
The second round had eliminated a majority of the remaining contestants. Now all that was left were you and Hoseok, a petite woman with a contrastingly tall man, and two average height men. Since your team had come in first place during the last round, you were relegated to nonsensically going last in the final one. With the previous eliminated couples allowed back into the ballroom, you had quite the audience.
Sitting in another chair in the middle of the dance floor, you fiddled with the whiteboard and marker in your hands. You were facing Hoseok so the two of you couldnât cheat by looking at what the other person was writing. The MC stood between and a little behind both of you, lips pulled up into a smile as she held a stack of cards in her hand.
Youâd only ever seen this game played at the weddings of family members youâd gone to over the years, so why theyâd chosen to have to (what they thought) complete strangers play it was a mystery to you. Something about âgetting to know one anotherâ and âtesting compatibilityâ bullshit and the couple who got the highest answers correct was the winner.
Whatever.
When the MC asked her first question, you were ready.
âOkay, letâs begin! First question, write down which one of the two of you that you believe owns more clothes than the other.â Holding back an eye roll, you quickly scribbled down your answer with the dry-erase marker at the same time that Hoseok did. âNow show us your boards!â
You turned yours with a flick of your wrist, Hoseokâs name written across the surface in ink. It came as no surprise at all that heâd also penned himself down; heâd always been on top of all of the trends in the fashion world so you knew for a fact that his closet greatly exceeded yours.
âWould you look at that!â The MC crowed. âAlready so in sync!â
(Unbeknownst to you both, your faces mirrored the same grimace as you erased your boards.)
âSecond question: who do you believe is the most stubborn?â
That one took a bit more thought, your eyes flickering up to watch as Hoseok easily scrawled on his board. You already knew what he was going to write and you wanted to win, and youâd do whatever it took to do so. Even if it meant admitting something that wasnât true.
At the MCâs cue, your boards flipped around to display your name written down on both of them. You glared. The crowd awâd. The MC squealed at how âyou were on the same wavelength.â
âWhoâs most likely to cry during a movie?â Hoseok.
âWho do you think is the smartest.â You (much to your surprise that he wrote that down).
âWho has to have the final word during an argument?â You. That one took a little longer to decide with the two of you eyeing each other over the tops of your boards.
âWho got better grades in school?â A snort and the sound of your marker dragging across the board to scribble your own name down.
âWhoâs the better dancer?â Hoseok, of course. Who could forget him dancing in the school hallways early in the morning before people even deigned to enter the place?
âIf you were to become a couple, who would wear the pants in the relationship.â That question had you glaring and fingers cramping as you dug the tip of the marker into the board. Both was scribbled down on each.
âHow about this one: who do you think is the better kisser?â The time in Jackson Wangâs basement popped to the forefront of your mind. Itâd been years, but you could still remember the feel of Hoseokâs lips moving against yours and the taste of him on your tongue. You paused, marker hovering over the board before you took a deep, silent breath and wrote your answer down.
That was the first question that the two of you got wrong. With his board displaying your name and yours displaying his, all you could do was stare. Hoseokâs mouth was pressed into a line, not one of his angry ones, but the one he would unconsciously do whenever he was thinking hard on something. You werenât sure what it was, nor did you have the time to try and figure it out.
âAw, the first question theyâve gotten wrong. Or did they get it right?â Cue a wink from the MC and a few chuckles from the crowd. âHow about we get a little more serious with the final question, hm? Who do you believe would be the first to fall in love with the other?â
You were positive that that would be the second question the two of you would get wrong, but you wrote your answer down anyway. When the cue came to flip them over, you felt your heart stutter. Lips part in surprise. Breath catch in your throat.
Hoseok looked at you with his lips pressed in that thin line, espresso hued, deep set eyes displaying an emotion that youâd never seen before. Never thought would be aimed at you. The whiteboard clutched between your hands shook as you read his over and over and wondered at what it meant (and if you were going to lie to yourself again).
Hoseok was written down on both of your boards, much to the delight of the onlookers.
The MC announcing that the game was complete and that you and Hoseok were the winners was a blur. The cheers from the crowd were a blur. The way the MC held both of your hands as she congratulated you and gifted you with your prizes was a blur.
Hoseokâs refusal to look at you was the only thing that was crystal clear. His back, his broad shoulders cloaked in his black satin tuxedo jacket, the nape of his neck, were the only things you could see. You didnât get the chance to even speak to him until the elevator doors leading up to the penthouse slid shut.
The MC had sent you off with the key and a wink and a promise that the aforementioned eight hundred dollars was awaiting the two of you in the penthouse suite. Silence engulfed the steel box as it ascended that was neither awkward, nor tenseâjust heavy. You couldnât stand it. So you wouldnât.
âHoseok.â
He looked at you out of the corner of his eye, back braced against the elevator wall.
âWhy did you write your name down for that question?â
âWhich one? There were dozens.â
âYou still suck at telling the truth.â
A pause hovered in the air, the red digital numbers above the elevator continuing to count upwards. And then he spoke. âI was telling the truth.â
âWhat do you mean?â
âDo you really need me to spell it out for you?â
âYes.â
Hoseok laughed breathily. Not of amusement, not of someone whoâd found something particularly funny. âDo you remember the first time we kissed?â
You didnât trust your voice, so all you could do was nod.
âIâd been wanting to kiss you since you threw that box of crayons at my head.â He turned to look at you, eyes deep and open and luminescent. âAnd Iâve been thinking about doing it again ever since that game of spin-the-bottle.â
Your mouth opened and closed, words stuck in your throat until you forced yourself to cough them out. âWhy didnât you ever tell me that?â
He scoffed. âWhy would I? You hate me.â
âI donât hate you, Hoseok.â The syllables of his first name were unfamiliar on your tongue, but you loved the taste of them anyway. âIâve never hated you.â
Hoseok raised his eyebrows disbelievingly. âReally.â It wasnât a question.
âOkay, no, that was a lie,â you mumbled. âI didnât hate you until after that kiss. But it was only because Iâd never wanted it to end.â
âWhat are you saying?â
âDo you really need me to spell it out for you?â You shot back without any heat.
âMaybe,â he hummed, lifting a hand to brush against your cheek.
Your eyes fluttered closed when his nose brushed yours. That was the only warning you got before he captured your mouth with his. Hoseokâs lips were just as soft as you remembered, his kiss just as slow, taste just as intoxicating. You involuntarily sighed into his mouth when his teeth caught your bottom lip and tugged.
âI love you,â he breathed into the crevice of your neck.
You sighed. A soft, gentle thing that had the corners of his mouth ticking upwards. âI love you too.â
A pause and then:
âEven though youâre annoying.â
Hoseokâs laugh shook both his frame and yours and you couldnât help the giggle that harmonized.
tagged:Â @kotaevlnâ @ladyartemesia @alana-ba @lifegoesondotcom @ardoren @awsome-small-k @chimchimsauce @jjamsbangtan @ohheyitssj @bewitch-me @lovetic @veronawrites @lilacdreams-00 @clarissalanceâ @daydreambrliever @unicornbabylover @taestannieâ @forever-once-gone @outrofenty @hoseokslefteyebrow @1am9root6 @btsmylife21 @fireheart2003 @iv-bts
#bts#hoseok#bangtanarmynet#networkbangtan#ficswithluv#btsbookclub#magicshopnet#hoseok fic#hoseok smut#bts fic
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Talks Machina Highlights - Critical Role C2E114-115 (Nov. 10, 2020)
My wi-fiâs gone distinctly shaky, so it must be that time again! I donât think Iâve ever watched the pet montage with sound on, and the sheer majesty of Henry snoozing on a Nicolas Cage pillow is somehow ever better with a swelling orchestral score.
This episodeâs guests are Liam OâBrien and Taliesin Jaffe!
Brian: âHowâs everyone feeling?â Taliesin:Â â...god.â
Thereâs a brief discussion about sports. Liam and Taliesin agree that they like the cowboys. Not the Cowboys the sports team, just cowboys.
Taliesin, on episodes featuring him and Liam:Â âWe have a dark sad energy that I think works well together.â
Brian leaps out of his chair. âMy pants kind of match the wall!â
Also Brian:Â âYou guys fuck with Barney?â
Okay, okay, okay. First question of the night at 7:09 PM. What was it like to find Vess dead? Liam had a lot of avenues of conversation he was planning with her and was disappointed to lose access to those. Taliesin notes that itâs ten days before they can talk to her again.
Another contemplative digression. Liam: âGoogle âfartisteâ.â Lots of talk of sphincters.
Brian asks what it was like to see Molly committing such heinous acts. Taliesin:Â âI have a nice wall built because I understand the mechanism by which Molly is Molly, and knowing the mechanism, I understand what Mattâs doing. Itâs only Molly so far. I always knew that whatever was going on in the background was sinister and a little bit iffy. And, you know, Molly was never actually against a little skullduggery. Heâs not a moral person, just, you know. Situationally kind.â Taliesin genuinely isnât sure how much Lucien knows about Mollyâs life, but he looks forward to someday being able to talk about the initial conversation he and Matt had about Molly at a Starbucks by a tattoo parlor.
Brian wonders whether Vessâs death has made Caleb start thinking about how other Assembly members may not be all that untouchable after all. âItâs totally surreal and absurd to him. I still think of them as powerful, though. Story-wise, Caleb thinks of them as dangerous as fuck. All of them.â Getting to know Vess might have helped him figure out what to do next about Trent - now thereâs even more uncertainty there.
On potentially having to explain Vessâs disappearance: âClayâs just gonna peace out. By the time this becomes a problem, he feels this is not his problem. If thereâs a good path to everyone working out, sure, but boy it donât look like it right now.â Calebâs âjust in con-artist mode at the moment.â Theyâre both more focused on whatâs going on at the moment.
âI will actually say, it wasnât until halfway through that even I noticed [that Clay was being flirted with]. I really appreciate it, just because very, very early on, from the beginning, I was very much like, Iâm just going to play him ace. Heâs got no interest in this shit. All that energy gets directed into other places. I was like, itâs a shame that it will never come up organically.â He was pleased to have an excuse to bring it up in-game. He does note that because of the costumes âit was like being flirted with by Ganondorf.â
As soon as Laura was actively interested in reading Der Katzenprinz, Liam knew he wanted to put the whole book together. Taliesin: âI can barely take a walk every day. Who the fuck are you?âÂ
Cosplay of the Week: a fiery Caleb! (lilac.cos on Instagram, photo by fourphotoscosplay on Instagram)
Everyoneâs a fan of Dagen Underthorn. Liam: âI love him because of how salt-of-the-earth he is. Weâre a bunch of weirdoes.â Taliesin figures heâll wait for the M9 outside the cave, but âthree days, tops.â
âClayâs seen a lot of things go down when people are mourning. This is a new one, so heâs definitely not sure what to do, and hasnât really had an opportunity to be like: a little trepidation would be advised, because this could go really poorly, and youâre all a little weird about this. Heâs assuming that Molly was another nice guy like the rest of these nice people, but after the Traveler heâs a little more wary of trusting his friendsâ judgement on the character of others. Itâs a lot like hearing about somebodyâs ex and theyâre like, oh, theyâre coming to visit.â
Why was it so hard for Caleb to walk away from the necromantic emerald? âThe first answer is that, Caleb, who is humble in many ways, is also cocky. Iâm the best at it, Iâm really good. One thread in Calebâs personality is his hubris. The other answer to it is that Liam thought it was hilarious.âÂ
Taliesin:Â âI couldâve possibly stayed a little longer.â Brian:Â âHow much longer?â Taliesin:Â âUntil we had to resurrect someone.â
Brian asks what it was like to have a battle de-escalate to the point of âdinner and friendshipâ. Taliesin: âItâs been a hard year and I was tired. I donât want to hurt anything for a while, I just want to have cocoa on graph paper.â Caleb invited the yetis in because âone, thatâs amazing. But also they said they would escort us and be our bodyguards for a little bit.â He thought he could entice them to stick around longer, having plied them with cats and pastries.
On Caduceus getting to be a mammoth:Â âThe same way that Caleb is a creature of hubris, Clay is a creature of self-control, and is really invested in his ability to maintain himself and to not get lost in the situation; even in a heightened situation, heâs still very much himself. This was uncomfortable. Eventually, with some hindsight, heâll enjoy the notion, but at the moment, itâs definitely a lot of, that did not feel okay.â
Fan Art of the Week: the kitties in the kitchen! (kristen_felan on Instagram)
Why was it important to Caleb that Veth stop touting him as a leader? âItâs never really bothered him intensely, but itâs been a thing for a very long time. It wasnât worth making a thing about it, but it was never true for him. He just doesnât feel like a leader, he never did. He went from being an A-hole to one of the knights of the round table.â
Who does Clay think needs the most guidance? âYasha. Heâs feeling at least reasonable about everybody. He feels like Jester doesnât quite have her shit together, but sheâs fine, and Fjordâs doing just great. Everyone seems to be coming together. Yasha had a breakthrough but hasnât really processed yet, so itâs a lot of, like, hey guy, so. You know. Now that weâre feeling more healthy, maybe itâs time to make some healthy decisions?â Liam suspects some of the characters will continue evolving even after the campaign is done. Taliesin: âLife doesnât have an act structure.â
Taliesin: âIâm looking forward to playing the Tomb Takers after they TPK us.â Liam: âDibs on Cree.â
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Rainy Day Rescuer
Feyre Archeron x Rhysand - OneShot
Feyre gets locked out in the rain and fears she'll have to tough out the storm. That is, until a kind stranger opens his window.
Masterlist | Read on Ao3
Warnings: Language
2130 words
*******
Feyreâs favorite thing about her apartment building wasn't the location or the free parkingâalthough she did love thatâit was the rooftop.
Sheâd lived in the building almost a month before realizing she could access the roof. The padlock on the door was apparently for appearances only, and it easily came off when she pulled on it. She figured out how to rest it back on the door so that when she was out on the roof the door still looked locked to anyone who didn't know better.
So far, she hadn't run into any of her neighbors trying to share the spot, but she knew someone else used it. Normally, she came up here to paint or to think and look at the stars. The view from the roof was lovely; she could see the city center and all the lit-up buildings, and the Sidra river that flowed through it.
The first time she set up her easel, one of her paintbrushes rolled away, and when she tracked it down behind an old broken crate she found a book had been carefully tucked away behind it.
Feyre couldn't help it when she picked up the book to get a better look at it. She glanced around quickly before chiding herself, knowing that no one else was out there with her. She recognized it as some sort of mythology retelling. Feyre flipped through it, trying to find some name or any indication of who it belonged to. All she found was an old receipt from a clothing store being used as a bookmark.
Spotting her runaway paintbrush, she grabbed it and put the book back where she found it.
That wasn't the last time she saw that book, and it certainly wasn't the last time she lost one of her paintbrushes.
In the next few weeks, every time Feyre went out to the roof she looked for the book.
It was always in that same place, hidden away so it wouldn't be noticed. But every time she opened the book the bookmark was moved a little further along.
She also started noticing annotations written in the margins. Feyre tried to imagine what this person must be like. It was odd, but kind of fascinating to follow along with this personâs progress.
She tried to focus on the fascinating part, and not the part that made her feel a bit like a creep for peeping into this personâs thoughts.
Except, when she made her routine book check that night, it was gone.
Feyre tried not to feel too disappointed. Why was she so invested in another personâs book? But it had become a constant that she looked forward to, and now it was gone. She could only hope they would start another one.
She laid out a thin blanket and sat down to look at the stars.
She must have dozed off at some point because she was woken up by raindrops hitting her face. It wasn't heavy yet, but she could tell it was going to start soon.
Ignoring the drizzle, she glanced at her phone. Feyre groaned and sat up, rubbing her face.
âUgh, okay Fey, letâs call it a night.â She mumbled to herself, sleepy and moving slowly. She packed the blanket in her large tote bag and went to go back inside. Pulling on the door, she stumbled back a step. She was too tired, her grip was already slipping.
Feyre adjusted the bag on her shoulder and pulled the door again.
It didn't move.
She gripped the handle with both hands and pulled, hard.
Nothing happened.
âNo, no, no, no, noâŚâ
Feyre was wide awake now. This couldn't be happening. Shit.
She threw her bag down and used all her strength to open the door she ultimately knew wouldn't budge.
Breathing heavily from the exertion, she stepped back from the door.
âShit.â
The rain was beginning to pick up.
âReally?!â
Lunging for her bag, Feyre dug around until she felt her phone. Gripping it, she unlocked it and was about to find someone to call for help...but she had no service.
How could she not have any service? Oh, gods, she was going to be stuck out on the roof, in the rain, until someone decided to come out there. It could be who-knows-how-long until that happened.
Spinning around, Feyre caught sight of her salvation.
âThe fire escape!â Beaming, she grabbed her bag and ran over to it. âYou beautiful, fantastic fire escape, help me out.â
Feyre managed to climb down the four stories of stairs and ladders without slipping on the slick metal. Gods, wouldn't that be a sight? Sheâd slip and come tumbling down the rest of the way, providing free entertainment to whoever walked past the buildingâs back alley.
When she finally made it to the lowest landing she tried to lower the final ladder that would bring her to the ground.
Only, it wouldn't move.
âCome on,â she muttered, still trying to force it down, âDonât do this to me. Iâm so close!â Feyre looked down to see the drop. Cringing, she admitted it was farther than she trusted herself to jump without breaking somethingâmost likely her.
Thunder boomed and lightning flashed across the sky. Feyre pressed herself against the building as the rain finally poured down.
âSeriously?!â She shouted up into the apparent waterfall above her head.
A knock from behind her startled her enough that she jumped around and let out a loud shriek.
âUm, are you okay?â
A voice came from a window set into the wall that she hadn't noticed before with a manâs face pressed up against it. Through the rain streaming down the glass, she couldn't tell if he looked more concerned or wary at her appearance.
It took her a second to respond.
âNo.â She tried to shake the wet hair out of her face. âIâm not.â
âAre you trying to go up or down?â
Ah. He was probably worried she was just some random person who decided to hop up onto his balcony landing.
âDown.â She said, trying not to think of how bizarre it must be for him to look out and see a woman stuck outside his window, sopping wet.
This really wasn't how she wanted to make first impressions with her neighbors.
âI got locked out on the roof and tried to get down the fire escape, but,â she gestured to herself and the now downpouring rain that was making this conversation difficult, âit didn't really work.â
She hoped he would offer before she had to ask the insane request.
Thankfully he did.
His eyebrows shot up and he seemed to finally notice how bad the rain was. Hastily opening the window, he gestured for her to come in.
âCome in, it looks awful out there.â
Before she could think better of accepting the stranger's invitation to literally climb into their apartment, she picked up her soaking bag from the grate at her feet and crawled over the windowsill, quickly closing the window behind her to block the storm.
Maneuvering to a standing position, Feyre took a moment to take a breath and thank whoever was listening for her unexpected savior.
She turned to face him. He was tall, she would have to crane her neck up if stood much closer. And he had vibrant violet eyes that the artist in her wanted to study.
âHang on a second.â He left her standing in his living room. Feyre looked around at the sofa and tv that took up most of the space, the bookshelf propped against one wall, and pictures of friends on the wall.
The man came back in with a towel in hand.
âHere, try this.â He handed it to her politely.
âThanks.â She quickly wrapped it around herself, trying to dry off and stop shivering.
âNo problem.â He looked like he was going to ask her something when something on the bookshelf caught her eye.
âIt was your book?â She gasped, pulling the familiar volume from the shelf. Feyre whirled around to face the dark-haired man who was looking at her warily. âYouâre the one whoâs been using the roof!â
He stepped closer to her and gently took the book from her hands, casually flipping through it. Flicking his eyes up at her, he asked, âHow did you know about my book?â
Feyre could feel her cheeks heating and she could've sworn a smirk made its way across his face.
âI, uh, found it one day.â
âYou found it?â he asked skeptically. âI hid it behind some old box, how did you find it?â
At least he just looked curious, and mildly amused, and not disturbed at her snooping. Yeah, maybe it was tucked away, but anyone who tried for more than a minute couldâve found it, so she didn't feel as bad.
Drawing as much pride as she could muster when she was dripping water onto this manâs carpet, she huffed, âIt was a crate, not a box.â He grinned and she went on, âand for your information, I dropped a paintbrush and it rolled over there. I found the book when I was chasing my brush. I don't actively seek out other peopleâs things to snoop.â
His grin widened as she explained and by the end, he was chuckling.
âAnd here I thought you just really wanted to get to know my reading tastes.â
She scoffed, but hid a grin, âYeah, sure. I don't even know you.â
As she said it, she realized it was true.
Besides the fact that he lived in her building and was kind enough to let her in from the rain, she had no idea who this man was.
It seemed he remembered the same thing as he gave her a charming smile and held out his hand.
âYou can call me Rhys.â
âRhys?â She raised a brow. Sheâd never met anyone named Rhys before.
âMy full name is Rhysand, but,â he paused to wink at her, âthe people I like call me Rhys.â
Feyre rolled her eyes at his not-so-subtle flirting but met his hand with her own.
âFeyre. Just Feyre.â She held his gaze for a few more minutes before they both dropped their hands.
âWell, Just Feyre, I think I have something for you.â
Before she could respond, he vanished into the other room. He had something for her? What? Was this some other lame attempt at flirting?
Sheâd let him flirt if he wanted to, maybe she was a little interested to see what heâd try.
But he came back out to stand in front of her with one hand behind his back.
âYes?â She tried to peek around him, but he angled his body away so she couldn't see what he was holding.
Leaning in close to her, Rhys said, âI believe that is yours.â With a flourish, he brought his hand in front of him.
âMy paintbrush!â Feyre couldn't believe it. She looked back and forth between the brush and the man holding it, âIâve been looking for this one. I lost it weeks ago! How do you have it?â
Rhys smiled broadly at her as she took it from his outstretched hand.
âI found it near the back corner one night, it must have just rolled away from you. It looked like it could blend right into the wall.â
Ceasing her inspection of the brush, shocked that she had found itâthat Rhys had had itâshe looked at him and beamed.
He blinked, almost dazedly, as he watched her smile.
âThank you!â
Without thinking, she reached up and wrapped her arms around him in a quick hug. Rhys tensed, and at that moment Feyre remembered that she was still soaking wet from the rain. Wincing, she hastily pulled away before he had a chance to return her hug.
âSorry. I got excited.â She glanced down to see the small puddle on the floor beneath her and cringed. âI should probably go.â
âHm? Oh.â Rhys cleared his throat and nodded, âRight. You probably want to change into something dry.â
âYeah.â They both stood there awkwardly staring at each other, not sure what to say next.
âOkay,â Feyre picked up her bag and took a step towards the door. âIâm just gonna...â She trailed off as she and Rhys pivoted around each other so that she was closer to the door.
He walked with her the last few steps, pausing when she opened the door and turned back to him.
âThank you, Rhys. For the paintbrush, and for not making me stand outside like a drowned cat all night.â
His laugh made Feyre crack a smile.
âAnytime Feyre, darling.â
She smiled.
âGoodnight Rhys.â
He mirrored her smile.
âGoodnight Feyre.â
Maybe getting locked out wasnât so bad, after all.
***
Taglist:
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#feyre archeron#rhysand#rhys#rhys x feyre#feyre x rhysand#feysand#feysand fic#feysand au#fanfic#fanfiction#au#acotar#a court of thorns and roses#oneshot#feyre
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My Human, My Sunshine - Part 2
Pairing: GN!MC x Mammon
Genres: Angst, hurt/comfort.
Word count: 4642
Warnings: N/A
Summary: As a human and a demon get to enjoy the presence of one another again, Mammon knows deep down that behind this ephemeral bliss, hides a looming and powerful storm.
PART 1 - PART 2 -
A/N: it's almost Mammon's birthday! And as promised, here is part 2 of my little series! While part 1 was made to place several plot points here and there, this chapter really starts to set things in motion for future chapters, and especially part 3.
All I have to say here is... Enjoy the fluff while it lasts.
___________________________________________
For the first time in a while... the human world felt much more colorful. Much more silent. It was as if life itself had been born anew, the suffocating darkness engulfing the world having been cast away for the light to reclaim its rightful ownership. The evil dragon of separation had finally been put to rest, and so, the chirping of the birds quickly replaced the self-deprecating thoughts of the people.
The only question left on the people's minds, as their bodies embraced so close to one another throughout the night, rejoicing to finally be back in the other's company, was... for how long, would that blissful respite last?
The night had been deep and short, but much welcoming. The weariness that had taken over the couple's bodies over the past two months had thoroughly vanished, as if all of this had been nothing but a bad dream. How much they wished it had been the case, and that the kisses they had shared the previous night didn't have to be ones filled with the need to feel the other's presence so desperately, for their minds to realize that they were here, and he was here, together in the same room at long last.
A human hand gently caressed a white-haired head, the demon to which it belonged still soundly asleep. Despite it being a few hours after dawn, MC had only recently opened their eyes to the first rays of sunlight, finding themself still in the same position as they had fallen asleep in. Mammon's arms were still firmly wrapped around their frame, their proximity allowing him to breathe in the scent of their skin as his nose brushed against their collarbone each time his chest rose up in his sleep.
Remaining laid down on their side, the human could only keep still and watch the face of their demon in adoration, still unsure whether they really had him in their bed with him, or if the loneliness of the past few weeks had truly made them lose their mind beyond salvation.
But as their fingers gently passed in his hair, their caresses never ending, MC couldn't help but wonder... what had Mammon done since the last time they saw him? How had he spent his time in the Devildom? How were the others? And most importantly, how had he found his way to them? Not that much conversation had been achieved the previous night, to answer all of their questions... The two of them had quickly realized, as MC came to drag Mammon inside the apartment, their clothes damp from the rain that had been dripping from his body, that what they wanted, as their lips met again and again, weren't answers, but to feel each other. And before any of them could notice, they had both fallen into a deep slumber that lasted the entire night.
MC raised their head slightly to look out of the bay window on the other side of the room. Outside, they could partially perceive the colors of the other buildings of the city in the horizon, the sunlight reflecting on their windows brightly and making them squint their eyes in response. They would have preferred to be able to see the green of the trees lined up in the street below, but that was one of the many flaws of this place... the floor that Solomon had chosen for MC to reside in was just way, way too high up.
If it hadn't been for a pair of arms pulling them slightly forward, MC wouldn't have noticed the half-closed pair of blue eyes staring at them in silence. MC immediately lowered their side back against the mattress, their head meeting with the pillow once more. Under the covers, they moved a leg instinctively against Mammon's.
"Good morning." They whispered through a smile, a sound so affectionate to one demon's ears that his hand slid from under the blanket to place itself on the human's cheek.
"Is this a dream?"
Mammon's words surprised them, but only for a short second. The demon's expression was nothing but serious, a slightly furrowed brow adorning his forehead as if he was expecting to receive a positive, yet disappointing answer to his question. Instead, MC's smiled turned only sweeter. They closed their eyes before pulling Mammon closer to them.
"It's not a dream." They felt him place his face in the crook of their neck. "You're with me, and I'm with you. It's for real."
Almost as if he was holding back tears, Mammon inhaled deeply, before closing the empty space between his body and MC's until there was nothing left. Their hand was brought back to the back of his head, drawing slow circles in the hopes of soothing him.
"I still can't believe it." His words seemed to be on the verge of breaking up as they slipped through his gritted teeth. "It feels like you've been gone for a thousand years, even worse... Why the hell did I only find ya now..."
"Mammon..." MC opened their eyes again to urgently place a gentle kiss on top of the demon's head. "What's important is that you found me. It is much better than if a thousand years had really passed, don't you think?"
Mammon's head leaned away from the warmth of their neck, his glassy eyes able to meeting theirs again. His mouth stayed agape for a few seconds, before both of his hands cupped MC's face in place.
"I know I asked last night, but you sure you're okay, right? Nobody has hurt you or experimented on you or anythin'?"
"I'm okay, Mammon." They placed their hands on top of his, a small chuckle escaping through their lips. "I swear, all I did was practice magic with Solomon and live a boring human life."
"But you sure it was normal magic? What if it was some weird spells and he was secretly messing with your body without you knowing?"
His worry made them sigh softly, their thumbs brushing the back of his hands. It was understandable for him to be so concerned for their safety, after receiving no news in such a long time. And the demons had always been wary of Solomon ever since they had known the wizard, to the point where MC themself, had even grown to wonder why Solomon had been acting the way he did, since they had gone back to the human world.
"I promise you." They responded, yet unsure themself of the veracity of their words. "Nothing has been done to me."
Silence fell between the both of them again, a staring contest where Mammon was expecting them to let go of a much harder truth, which never came. He was the first to break eye contact, rather preferring to stare into the space between MC's head and the pillow.
"Solomon... He's hidin' something too. I just know it"
His sudden pouting mouth and words made MC blink. "Too? What do you mean...?"
After marking a wordless pause, Mammon's hands slid off their cheeks, his upper body rising up as he sat himself into the bed. The sheets fell onto his hips, leaving his arm exposed for MC to grab in case he was trying to avoid their question and get up. But instead, all he did was pass a hand through his hair as a deep sigh left his lungs.
"Mammon?" MC called out, their voice starting to show concern due to the demon's sudden secrecy. But as they read his expression a bit more clearly from their laid position in the bed, and as they watched the creases between his eyebrows form, and his jaw clenching, they realized that... Mammon probably knew more about all this than themself.
"A... A lot of shit went down ever since you left, MC." The demon kept his palm in his hair, leaving his forehead exposed. "It's gone bad, and I just... I-I just dunno what to do anymore."
It wouldn't take a genius to see how perturbed Mammon was about this subject- you just had to see the way his fingers had wrapped around his own hair, almost as if he was about to pull a handful, the questions in his mind twirling in a never-ending whirlpool of torment. One thing MC was grateful for, however, was how much more open he had become with them ever since they had known each other.
As MC propped themself on their elbow, they allowed their hand to wander up and down Mammon's arm to remind him of their presence.
"... Do you want some breakfast? I'd rather you explain everything while stuffing yourself with waffles. I make them delicious, I promise."
Although he glanced at them from the corner of his eyes, his pout only seemed to double. MC stopped their hand from rubbing his skin before placing it above his own, their thumb gently brushing the back of it. Like a timid child, his cheeks darkened, letting his voice, now low, respond to their question.
"I... could go with some of your waffles."
After putting some clothes on, apart from Mammon who could only rely on one of MC's loose jogging pants due to his clothes from the previous night still dripping wet on a nearby chair-, MC made their way to the kitchen to prepare something for their demon.
Throughout the whole process, Mammon never left their side. Once his arms had been locked around their frame from behind as they began preparing the waffles, he hadn't let go. His chin remained on their shoulder, his body moving alongside them whenever they had to go to a cabinet to grab a bowl, a whip, or even when they went to pick the different ingredients for the batter. MC had asked in the beginning "are you sure you don't want to sit at the table?", wanting him not to be standing more than his tired legs could bear. But their question was only met with a shaking of his head, before his forehead met with the warmth of their skin. "I'm good there", he had answered. And so MC let him hold on to them, enjoying the feeling of his arms around their waist, and the few kisses he would place here and there alongside their neck and cheek. This calm, this peace, this comfortable silence... they had forgotten what it felt like.
Once all the batter had been changed into hot and steamy waffles, and the rest of the breakfast had been made, the couple sat around the kitchen table.
"So... is it that bad?" MC placed their hands around their hot cup of cocoa, taking a sip of the drink as Mammon filled his mouth with a waffle he had covered in strawberry jam. MC had insisted that he was to eat his batch first, with him having barely eaten anything the previous day. Even if he was a demon, he needed to have a proper morning meal.
"It's almost as if you had never been in the house in the first place." Mammon answered after swallowing his bite. "Satan went back on being super pissy with Lucifer for the smallest things, Levi eats his meals in his room and never comes out. I see Asmo buyin' even more beauty products than usual and he's constantly askin' us if "this and that" suits him, to the point where it's ridiculous. Beel almost stopped eating entirely because he was too worried for ya. If it weren't for Belphie, he would have turned into a literal stick. Now Belphie sleeps more often too. And Lucifer, he..."
He stabbed one of the waffles with his fork, before tearing a piece of it with his teeth. MC's brow instantly furrowed with concern.
"He just has to know why we couldn't reach you. He's been lyin' through his teeth for weeks on end, but he thinks he's being so sly and that we're too dumb to see it." Another teared piece of the waffle disappeared into his mouth. "Like, sure, he's been way more on edge ever since you left the Devildom and even more after we've all started askin' why we couldn't talk to you, but that just shows that he knows somethin' and we don't."
With a slower movement, his fork planted into the remaining bits of the waffle. "But it's just... I don't understand, you get it? Why would he try to hide something about you from us? All of a sudden we can't send you texts or call you like we used to everytime you had to come back to the human world, and out of nowhere he starts actin' all weird about it. It's just..."
MC noticed Mammon's jaw clenching, his hand and fork immobile as it stayed firmly planted into the waffle. The demon swallowed harshly, letting the human know how the situation back at home must have been for him. Without their presence, the brothers had turned back into their previous selves, if not worse.
"What about you?" They asked, making the second-born jerk his head upward at them. "How are you feeling?"
"M-Me? It's... not important." He looked away shamefully, the pressure on the fork increasing and his nail starting to dig into his palm.
"Mammon." Their hand reached forward to wrap itself around the one that was holding the fork. "If my absence has been affecting everyone like this... I want to know how you dealt with it, too."
They patiently waited until Mammon finally dared cross his gaze with their own once again.
"I... dammit, don't laugh, okay?" He muttered. "But, I guess when we learned you didn't have your D.D.D. with ya back in the human world, I was the one with took it the worst... I grew tired of Lucifer tellin' me to be patient and wait for a replacement to get to ya, and I kinda ran to Lord Diavolo and ended up throwing a hissy fit in the middle of the throne room. Barbatos didn't like it, and neither did Lucifer. I still don't know why, but Lucifer didn't strung me from the ceiling on that day. Actually, he's mostly been yelling at us more than punishing. But I guess it doesn't really matter, since the others went all back on ganging up on me for any mistake I make."
Just as Mammon finally brought the rest of the waffle into his mouth in the hopes of not breaking up into a groaning mess, MC could swear they felt their heart sink within them. It sounded exactly like what Mammon had said. The brothers had all gone back to their old ways, with Mammon ending up as the punching bag once again. And all because they weren't around anymore?
"I'm... I'm sorry." Their throat tightened, a sense of guilt starting to wash over them. "If I knew you guys were having it this bad, I'd- I should have been way more insistent with Solomon, I should have kept asking to see you more than I did when-"
"Wha- No no, hey, it's not your fault!" Mammon exclaimed, panic settling in as MC started taking the blame on themself. "I mean, no one coulda thought that you'd be gone for this long... And that we'd be all negative for not being able to call you and stuff..."
Mammon passed a hand over his neck, the other covering MC's fist with its warmth. His eyes drifted to the side.
"We just... ya know. Grew used to havin' ya around. Guess it messed up our heads pretty good, and in the end, hatin' on each other seemed like the only solution to keep us busy.... I think."
MC's stomach churned uncomfortably as they sat there silently, slowly processing Mammon's words. What they wouldn't give to have sensed sooner that the brothers were also out of the loop in this situation, and ask Solomon for answers in the first few weeks after being back in the human world with him. How could they have been so passive about this? How could they have been so blind?
"MC."
Mammon's voice pulled them out of their thoughts, as they raised their eyes back onto him. "Huh?"
"What did Solomon say? About you not being able to see us?"
"Hum..." Their brain replayed the fuzzy memories of what happened two months earlier.
"Well, you remember how we all said our goodbyes to each other before I left the Devildom? It was in the student's council meeting room, like usual. But Diavolo had said that I would need to fill some papers before entering the portal, so I guess since we all were used to saying goodbye like this by now, we didn't really see the harm in having you brothers all leave the room before I entered the portal."
They instinctively bit the corner of their bottom lip. "Which left me, Barbatos and Diavolo in the room. Diavolo said something about needing my D.D.D. to replace it with an upgraded version, which I thought was weird at the time since Karasu had always warned me when it needed repairs or to update an app. But I trusted Diavolo, so I gave it to him, and he said I should receive the new one shortly through Solomon. After that, I got into the portal, but never received the phone, and Solomon started saying all these excuses..."
"What excuses?" Mammon asked, pressing on the matter out of curiosity, but mostly because of the bubbling rage that was beginning to form in the pit of his stomach.
"At first he explained that the new D.D.D. took some time to be shipped to Lord Diavolo, but-- it's Lord Diavolo, the literal demon prince. He knows how much I like to communicate with all of you while I'm up there, so I couldn't understand why he simply couldn't ask for the shipping to go a bit faster?" MC started moving their free hand around as they continued to explain their version of the story. "Then Solomon suddenly switched from the phone taking time to be shipped to... saying that the Devildom was dealing with some dangerous threat that came out of nowhere, and that I needed to stay away until the matter was dealt with. But in the end it just... made me want to know if you guys were okay even more..."
Neither Mammon nor MC had realized, nor heard, that a crack had begun to form under Mammon's firm grip on the edge of the table. The more he learned how many lies had been thrown in their face by the wizard, the more pressure Mammon was putting on his closed teeth. He couldn't believe Solomon had told them that they were in danger, when absolutely nothing eventful had happened during their absence. What was wrong with this guy, Lord Diavolo and Lucifer? The demon searched in his mind again and again, why his older brother would make up such an alliance with Solomon, especially to keep MC at bay- wasn't he supposed to care for them, too?
"I've heard enough." He hissed, the wood cracking even more under his palm. "Once I know what the fuck is going on with those two, I'm bringing you back home."
"Wait-" MC exclaimed, panic in their voice. "I-It has to be for a reason, right? That your story and mine aren't the same? I just- I don't understand why Diavolo and Lucifer would lie to me so that I stay in the human world, especially when they were acting like usual before I left."
"Reason or not, I don't fucking care. Shouldn't they have at least let us know if something was up?" Mammon's hands retrieved from both the table and MC's, the demon grasping the fabric of his pants harshly as he shook his head in disbelief. "Think about it, MC. If they all made up a bunch of lies so that we wouldn't be able to contact you, then it means that you're involved in this. Whatever problem it is they're hiding, they should tell you what it is, and not straight up throw you away in the human world as if neither you or ME would care about it."
The demon let out a frustrated groan as his eyes closed firmly, Mammon not understanding anything of the situation. If he and MC wanted answers, it would require to go back to either Solomon or Lucifer, but either of those options weren't at the top of his priorities right now. All he wanted at the moment, was to make sure that MC would remain safe, if they indeed were at the center of all this. He didn't want to lose them again. Two months of radio silence had already been hard enough. No, now, he would remain with them at all times. No matter if the obstacles ended up being a wizard, the demon prince, or his literal older brother.
MC's arms wrapping around his shoulders pulled him out of his dark thoughts. He opened his eyes, feeling them sitting on his lap as they hid their face into his neck. Their embrace was strong, but at the same time, gentle and comforting. He instantly felt himself melt in his seat. Slowly, his shoulders dropped, and his arms circled the human he loved the most.
"I swear it." He muttered, looking into the empty space behind them. "I'll bring you back to the house. Everyone's missing you, and... I miss you, too."
MC nodded against his neck. "I'd love that. I miss the others. I miss my room there. And you always barging in without notice."
"O-Oh, yeah, about that-" Mammon pulled them slightly away by the shoulders so he could face them. "I kinda forgot to tell ya, but... when you weren't here, I sorta felt really alone, having to sleep in my room without you around, so... uh, what I mean is that- I kinda brought most of my stuff in your-"
The demon's sentence was cut short by the melody of a ringtone at the other end of the table. Mammon looked instantly at MC's phone, arching an eyebrow both for being interrupted, but also wondering who could be calling them on their human phone at this hour.
"Ah- it's probably Solomon. He was supposed to come visit yesterday, but postponed it to today instead." MC said, not without a hint of disappointment in their voice as they got up from Mammon's lap to go grab their phone.
Mammon growled, already preparing himself mentally for possibly having the occasion to yell at the wizard for all the mess he caused, but his plan was immediately stopped by MC, who had put a finger on their lips. While Mammon started pouting, MC pressed the sleep button on the side of the phone, but opened their eyes wide as the name of the caller was written in what seemed like... the Devildom's language.
"It's- not Solomon?"
Their thumb swapped over the Accept button, and just as they placed the phone over their ear and were about to ask who it was, a voice, way too familiar to them, answered first.
"M-MC.. ?" The broken sobs mixed with the voice of none other than Leviathan, almost made MC forget how to breathe. "Aahh, I'm so glad... I-I wasn't sure if- sniffle..."
"Levi?" MC clasped their other hand over the phone, alerted by the state of the demon on the other side of the line. Behind them, Mammon practically jumped out of his seat.
"Levi?! Put him on speaker!"
MC obeyed him, quickly turning the speaker on and putting the phone in-between the two of them. The third-born's voice could now be heard in the entire room, as his desperate cries continued.
"Yo, Levi, why are you crying?! And how did you figure out how to call MC's phone?!" Mammon shouted, before approaching the phone to listen more closely. "Hey, is that Asmo I'm hearin'? Is he with you? What's happening??"
"Mammon... we were so worried- that you wouldn't find them..." Levi continued, as several people could be heard in the background, seemingly arguing with each other. "I tried really hard you know... I'm so, so sorry MC... I really tried... Please, please forgive me, I tried..."
"T-Tried? Wha- What did you try, Levi?" MC asked nervously, a knot starting to form in their throat. But the only answer they received from Leviathan, was a louder sob, soon followed by muffled cries as if the demon had stuffed his face into a pillow.
"Here- Levi, I'll talk to them." Another voice replaced Levi's, this one more composed in its tone. It increased in volume as the owner brought the phone closer to their face. "MC, Mammon? Are you still there?"
"Satan..." MC whispered, a hand placed over their chest. It had been so long since they had heard either of the other demons' voices.
"Hey, Satan, what's wrong with Levi?! I keep hearin' the others talking behind you too! I leave you guys for one day and already one of you is bawling his eyes out?!" Mammon asked urgently, obvious worry in his voice for his brother. As if the whole trip to the human world hadn't already been anxiety inducing, now something had happened within the House of Lamentation, and he wasn't there to check up on them.
On the other side of the phone, Satan clicked his tongue.
"After helping you find MC's location, Levi spent hours learning how to call a human phone with a demon one... literal hours. I'm glad it worked." He paused. "Everything would have turned out alright, if only it hadn't been for him."
While MC blinked in confusion, Mammon's breath was caught in his throat. His face turned pale, and his brow furrowed even more as the realization of what the fourth-born was trying to tell him washed over him.
"Wait... Don't tell me-"
"He's gone way too far this time." Satan hissed. Behind him, the voices of the other brothers turned quieter, the blonde demon moving away from them. "You have to leave wherever you are. While you didn't know where MC was, Mammon, I'm not doubting that he does. I don't know why he's acting the way he is but... I'm worried about MC. Mammon, you have to get them away from him."
"Wait, Satan, are you talking about-"
Two dry knocks came from the entrance door, and MC immediately shut themself up, quickly pressing the speaker off. Flipping their head alongside Mammon's towards the sound, the two's breaths turned slow and their bodies immobile, like deers caught in headlights. Neither of them dared make a sound, nor move a muscle, their eyes glued to the wood of the door as they waited for additional knocks, which never came.
Instead, after a silence that seemed to last forever, with only the now small voice of Satan hurriedly asking them from the phone if they were alright, a hue began emanating on the door. A red circle, shining a light that resembled a laser's glow, drew in the center. Several patterns followed and appeared within it, and before MC could take a step towards it, as they finally understood who was on the other side, Mammon's body immediately blocked them from advancing.
"Mammon-"
The demon raised an arm out, preventing MC from moving further away from the table. The human didn't have to see his face to know that he was preparing himself for anything- his tensed body in front of them spoke for himself.
His inner thoughts from a few minutes ago resurfaced in a flash upon sensing MC's hand on his back. No more separation. He had to protect them- stay with them. No matter the obstacle.
Even if this obstacle, turned out to be his own older brother.
"He's here."
#thanks for reading!#obey me#obey me shall we date#obey me mammon#obey me mc#obey me mammon x mc#obey me angst#obey me story#obey me series#obey me fic#obey me fanfic#obey me writing#mammon x mc#obey me swd mammon#omswd#omswd mammon#obey me mc x mammon#obey me fandom#obey me gn!mc#vel's writing#obey me mhms#my human my sunshine
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Zimbits - Bartender!Jack + NHL!Bitty AU
Prompt: Retired NHL player Jack Zimmermann takes ownership of a sports bar in Pittsburgh and accidentally falls for the Penguinsâ (closeted) new left winger.
A/N - just the start, Iâd like to get around to more of this; the basic idea was an Itâs Always Sunny in Philadelphia AU, but I couldnât manage to make everyone that terrible so Jack owns and operates a gay sports bar and starts crushing on one of his patrons.
âCanât believe youâve owned this place since â89.â Jack coughs, waving the dust away from his face. âDid you ever come back after we moved home?â
Itâd be disingenuous to say Jack had been expecting anything other than cigars and whiskey when his father had invited him on a trip down to Pittsburgh to see Mario and glad-hand some Penguins sponsors. In fact, heâd kind of been looking forward to sulking and getting shit-faced, not limping around a condemned building dodging roaches and rats.
âIt was an investment opportunity. That was the trend back then, famous athletes buying up restaurants and clubs â I had big plans for this building. Then your mother got pregnant and I realized I didnât really give two shits about running a nightclub.â
âRealized you were pretty lazy, huh?â
As Bob laughs, Jack picks at the peeling, lacquered bartop, trying not to imagine how many decades of grime heâs just collecting under his nail, the situation made even more disgusting in such close proximity to the glittering gold championship ring his father had insisted he wear to their lunch meeting with the Penguins front-office suits. Jack flicks the gunk away as Bob levels him with a weighty look, hands braced in the air as if outlining a play and not offering a tour of a cobweb-filled dive.
âHereâs my thought,â Bob says. âThe bar. Itâs yours.â
Jack leans against the counter, taking some weight off his braced leg, and asks, âWhatâs mine?â
âThis place,â Bob gestures around the room. âThe whole building. Itâs just sitting here, empty, the bar, the liquor license, thereâs apartments and office space upstairs, weâd just need to do some renovations and ââ
Jack canât help himself. He barks a laugh and says, âIâm not moving to Pittsburgh.â
âHow many times have you and I talked about opening a sports bar? Iâd wanted to get this place fixed up so itâd be ready when you retired, but since the final â you could make it a gay bar, even, if you wanted!â Bob says quickly, offering another awkward olive branch. âA gay sports bar. I wouldnât care.â
âA gay sports bar. In Pittsburgh,â Jack echoes, reaching for a chirp to defend himself, but he closes him mouth as he realizes a sports bar run by a Zimmermann might not be a terrible investment idea. âThe building needs a ton of work,â Jack settles. âI just saw a rat.â
âThat was a mouse,â Bob dismisses, not bothering to look at the rat still clearly in view. âNothing that canât be fixed. Got a dollar?â
Jack pats his pockets, finds a spare looney and hands it over. Bob doesnât hesitate, pulling an envelope out of his back pocket to exchange for the coin.
âCongratulations. You are now the proud owner of,â Bob looks around helplessly. âI actually donât know what they call this place now. A Bar?â
âIâm sure weâll figure something out.â Jack swallows against the tightness in his throat, holding the deed carefully in his hands. âThanks, Dad.â
Bob brings Jack in for a loose hug and they both ignore the soft squeaking coming from the backroom.
Five Years Later
Thereâs a man examining the announcement board in the vestibule, and Jack knows that posture: the forward hip cant, thick thighs, a small but definite bubble butt â guyâs a hockey player, and he has been for some time.
âHey. Hi.â
Blondie spins around at Jackâs address. Not quite startled, but something close enough that Jack feels a twinge of guilt. âYou interested in playing in our beer league? You look like you might know your way around a rink.â
The man quickly looks at his chest, as if expecting to find something displayed, but relaxes immediately. Jack fights a grin, he was once old hat at wandering into public spaces decked out in identifiable team merch.
âBitty.â The man squares up to offer his hand; his accent is warm and distinctly southern, not at all what Jack was expecting. âYou can call me Bitty.â
âOh, with a nickname like that, you have to play, now, no excuses,â Jack gives Bittyâs arm a firm shake, surprised at how complementary his grip is; not just an overcompensating bro whoâs walked into the wrong club.
âIf only I had the time,â Bitty placates wryly. âIs this place new?â
âBeen here a few years, but not long. How about you? Are you ânewâ? In town, I mean.â
âMoved for work,â Bittyâs smile is timid, eyes darting around the room looking for other patrons, up at the memorabilia and the various pennants. âFirst year. Slowly learning the area.â
Jack doesnât miss the way Bittyâs eyes linger on the Pride flag draped from the second floor railing, but Bitty doesnât mention it, and Jack isnât in the business of prying.
âLet me be the first to welcome you to The Bar.â
âI saw that outside, do you not have a name?â
âWe werenât creative. The owner didnât realize he was filling in the wrong line on the business license so we are literally called âThe Barâ.â
âThatâs actually pretty solid,â Bitty laughs, the sound lifting Jackâs mood easily. âIâll have to make sure I come back and patron your establishment at a reasonable hour.â
âWhat you arenât interested at getting sloshed before noon?â
Bitty laughs, and Jack is enough of an adult to recognize heâs got a tiny bit of a crush.
______
True to form, Bitty slowly becomes a feature of Jackâs early afternoons. The first few weeks, he does little more than quietly purchase a single domestic beer before tucking himself away in a corner booth, hunched over his phone, ball cap pulled low for discretion. Jack gives him space, and aside from a few curious regulars, Bitty is little more than another closeted young man seeking quiet sanctuary.
That is, until, hockey kicks up and Mario hooks Jack up with season tickets beside the bench. Itâd taken time for Jack to get comfortable with being in an arena again, especially without the ability to step onto the ice himself, but heâs acclimated and learned to appreciate his new lot in life. He can be happy for his success and mourn the end of his career with equal measure.
(Doesnât hurt he still gets asked for autographs on the regular.)
Bittle, the new forward traded out of Columbus, spins to whip the puck between Lundqvistâs thighs and the score is 3-2 with a minute left in the third. Jack stands to cheer with the crowd as Bittleâs pulled into a celly with his line mates, and the new angle gives Jack a good look at the manâs sunny face, complete with a familiar, bright smile and missing canine. Jackâs heart leaps into his throat when he realizes Bittle is âBittyâ, and Jack canât help but cheer louder.
________
After the game, Jack does his homework. Pulls up stats pages and articles on Eric Bittle. Looking to link the quiet hottie from his bar with the energetic man he saw tonight on the ice. If Jack wasnât in love before, he absolutely is after watching highlights from Bittleâs time in Columbus.
The next time Jack finds Bitty slipping into the bar, probably between practice and a good nap, Jack makes his move; filling a pint glass, wedging an orange slice on the rim, and adjusting his shirt before striding to the corner booth as easily as one can with a titanium femur.
âOn the house,â Jack says, setting down the glass gently. âChoice goal, Tuesday. Great bounce.â
Bittyâs grateful smile falters, turning into something guarded.
âWhat goal?â Bitty asks, voice steady, and Jackâs immediately alerted to his misstep. Jack casts a careful eye around the room and doesnât find anyone watching, kicking himself for not thinking this through. Heâs used to playing this game with guys who arenât quite comfortable, who might be visiting with the wrong people, but he hasnât had to do the closeted-pro-athlete dance in a while.
âYou know, I must have been mistaken.â
âHappens all the time. Very sweet of you, though.â Bitty apologizes and pushes away the beer, but Jack waves him off. Itâs the least Jack can do for calling the guy out.
âI should have known,â Jack tries to recover. âYouâve still got all your chiclets. But, between you and me, Bittleâs a spitfire, eh? Crazy soft hands. Iâd like to meet him someday.â
Jack whistles low, rapping his knuckles on the table before turning back to the bar, moving slowly enough he catches the way Bittyâs cheeks flare pink at the compliment.
About thirty minutes later, Jack, half focused on counting down the till, nearly misses Bittyâs exit. He looks up to offer a parting wave, and Bitty returns the gesture, flashing a shy, incomplete smile; one canine missing on the left side.
________
âAnything new to report? Sales look good, think you might be able to take some time off and visit your poor parents?â
Jack slides open a window to let some air into his bedroom, not for the first time wishing heâd taken the chance to tear out a wall and convert a corner of the top floor into a balcony. Thereâs still time â his father never seems to wary of giving Jack renovation loans â but Jack loves his condo and hates the idea of relocating again, even temporarily.
âNew distillery opened, cut a deal on some local gin. Weâre working on drink specials, if you have any ideas for names Iâm open,â Jack eases onto the windowsill and looks down at the line of people waiting to get into the bar. âAnd I met someone. Think he might be a hockey player.â
âNo shit? Beer-league?â
âNHL.â Jack corrects, an edge of caution in his tone he knows his father wonât misinterpret. âStarted coming around a few months ago, gave me a fake name. Went to a game last week, scored right in front of me.â
âWell, you going to tell me who or am I going to have to guess?â
âHeâs keeping to himself,â Jack holds the curtain steady to catch sight of a particularly flashy person in a glittering teal gown, texting Holster to snag a photo for the barâs Instagram. âDonât go hunting.â
âWell, if he needs any help you let me know.â
âWhat could you do?â
âI donât know. Talk to . . . someone. I guess.â
âIâll keep that under advisement.â Jack placates, smiling at the saucy photo Ransom texts back immediately of Holster lifting their favorite Drag Race runner-up above his head like something out of Dirty Dancing.
âSo.â
âMmm?â
âDoes this mean youâve got a little boyfriend, again?â
Jack leans out over the railing and tries to see if the universe has blessed him with a sighting of his favorite new Left Winger. Sadly, itâs Saturday evening and the Penguins are in Dallas, so no Eric tonight.Â
âWorking on it.â Jack offers, rapping his knuckles lightly against the window sill and trying not to think about the way Bittleâs face lights up when he sees that Jack is working. âThink I might really have a shot at something.â
âWell, you know what Wayne always says.â
âI do,â Jack breathes, pressing his forehead against the cool glass, taking in his one-of-a-kind view of the city. âIâll let you know how it goes. Once he gets back.â
â â You know, Iâve got the game on right now. I bet you $1000 I can tell who youâve got the hots for. You have a specific type â â
âPapa.â
âOkay, I wonât.â
âThank you.â
âBut itâs the kid we just got from the Blue Jackets, isnât it. Bittle? You always like the fast ones â â
âGoodnight, Papa.â
#bar au#jack zimmermann#NHL!Bitty#zimbits#Zimmermann#retired Jack#zimbits fic#look I wrote a thing#it's only been forever#my fic#my stuff#omgcp#check please
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Steve Harrington sucks.
Steve Harrington x Henderson!reader
A/N: Yay! My first request done!đ⨠Please donât hesitate to request anything, and I hope you enjoy. Sorry it tooks so long, I just started school.
Summary: (Y/n) Henderson has been through some shit in her 17 years. Her father leaving, an overprotective mother, bullies, interdimensional monsters, government conspiracies, etc. Needless to say her life was constantly changing. Â There was one thing that will always remain the same though. And that was the hatred she has for the one and only Steve Harrington.Â
Request from anon.
Masterlist
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
 You and Steve have never seen eye to eye. You havenât for a very long time. You two used to be best friends, but that was a long time ago. Before high school and cliques mattered, and before Steve was known as âKing Steve.â But once you two entered freshman year, Steves popularity rose and you were left behind.Â
Even though you and Steve no longer associated with each other, that didnât stop you two from fighting any chance you got.
You two argued about everything. If you said the sky is blue, Steve would argue that its actually purple. No kidding, he actually made the argument that the sky was purple. Needless to say, you two hated each other.
âSteve, I swear if you donât move your feet Iâll--â
âYouâll what Y/n, please tell me what youâll do?
â Iâll take your feet and shove it up you---â
âCan you guys not...â
It was always like this. Ever since Steve started dating Nancy it was like he was always there. And because Nancy was your best friend, you got reacquainted with the King of Hawkins High.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
After everything Will with through with the Upside down and El, you were relieved that it was over. You could go back to your normal life of being a big sister and being top of the class. But then your brother started acting weird.Â
It started on Halloween, he came home and was holding his ghost trap thing from Ghostbusters weirdly. You thought it was a rat or something at first but something seemed off.
Then Mews went missing. Mews was given to you on your thirteenth birthday, so loosing her was devastating to you. You still had faith that she just ran out and was lost somewhere in the woods. You spent hours looking for her but no dice so far. You were in your room when your mom called you from the kitchen.
âYeah?!â you shouted, finishing up some missing flyers for Mews.Â
âCan you go find Dusty for me? Itâs getting dark outside.â After the incident with Will and Barb, the parents became a lot more wary when it came to being out after dark.
Rolling your eyes, you get up from your small desk and walk out to the kitchen where your mom is. As you get closer, you smell the weird concoction your mother is making on the stove. Your mom wasnât the best cook.
âDid he mention where he was going?â you ask, scrunching up your face at the sight of the...stew?? Â
âHe mentioned something about Lucas and a code red?? Whatever that means.â
âCode red?â you ask, you werenât too nervous because code red could mean anything. and Dustin tends to be over dramatic. But still, a small voice in the back of your head is warning you.Â
âIâm not too sure dear. Would you like to have a taste before you leave?â aaand that was your cue to leave. You start rushing to the door
âSorry mom! I better go find Dustin before it gets to late.âÂ
You start to make your way down the road when a flash of red catches your eye, you walk towards it . You realize its just some pieces of meat. Then you see what looks like a trail. Leading from your basement to the woods. A bad feeling settles in your stomach, and before you go in the woods, you get a hockey stick that you wrapped with barb wire a few months ago just incase.Â
Then you follow the trail of meat into the woods.
You follow the trail till it leads you to the junkyard. By the time you got there it was already dark and surprisingly foggy.
âDustin?!!â You shout, seeing the pile of meat stopping. You step over it as you walk around shouting for your brother.
âHello!!? Dustin this isnât funny, moms worried about you.âÂ
And that's when you heard it. A low growling sound. Right behind you.Â
âY/N!! WATCH OUTâ Â
You spin around to see what looked like a demogorgon, but on all fours like a dog. And it was slowly walking towards you. Growling as it stepped closer and closer. Your heart was beating out of your chest as you tighten your grip on the hockey stick. Adrenaline rushing through your body. Your senses heightened as you focused on the creature in front of you. You lowered your body into a crouch to prepare for an attack. You slowly backed away slowly as it stalked toward you. You heard what sounded like Lucas or Dustin tell you to run but you knew if you turned around, that thing would pounce on you and youâd be dead. And if you died, what would happen to your brother? To Lucas? Â
Then the demodog lunged at you. The muscles in its leg tightened as it jumped toward you. You held your breath as you swung the stick with all your might, hitting the monster in mid air. It yelped as its body was flung sideways. It layed there for a moment them leaped up on all fours again, You backed away but never took your eyes off it.Â
âHoly shit what is she doingâ a girl??Â
âYEAH THATS MY SISTER!â Dustin
âY/N THREE OâCLOCK! THREE OâCLOCK!â shit.
You can see another figure moving in your peripheral vison. Another one. You position your body so your able to see both dogs at the same time, but then you hear chirping and growling from all ends. You were being surrounded.Â
âSTEVE WHAT ARE YOU DOING?âÂ
Then, Steve Harrington runs out of a broke down bus, bat in hand as he settles up behind you.Â
âWhat the hell are you doing here Harrington?â
âSaving your ass Henderson, what does it look like?â
âI had this under controlâ
âOh yeah, being surrounded definitely screams under control.âÂ
You arenât given a chance to respond as another demodog leaps at you and Steve, forcing you to swing out and hit it again straight in the head. Another dog leaps at Steve, and he manages to hit it with the bat.Â
âWeâre going to die if we stay hereâ you say assessing the situation.Â
â No shit sherlock.âÂ
âShut up and listenâ You shout. âyou run back to the bus. You need to protect the kids. Iâm going to distract these fuckers. When I say the word, you open the bus door and let me in. These things hunt in packs, so they wonât chase both of us if I run first.â
âHenderson thats--â You donât hear the rest as you dash from the spot. As predicted the dogs chase you and donât pay no mind to Steve. You can see Steve reluctantly run back to the bus as you take a lap around the junkyard. You have to hit some more dogs but you manage to get back where you were.Â
Then you were tackled. Dropping your stick you scream in pain as the demodog digs it claws in your shoulder. You struggled to get your stick as the other dogs get closer and the one on top of you is lowering its flower mouth to your throat.Â
âY/Nâ you hear your brother scream desperately. You find the strength to kick the dog off of you and launch yourself off the ground. You scoop up the hockey stick and swat the other dog that was in your way as you sprint towards the bus.Â
âNOW STEVE LET ME INâ You screech as you near the bus. The doors slide open as hands wrap around your arms and pull you in.Â
You lay there for a few seconds breathless. Muscles burning and ears ringing. You ignore the kids talking over each other and Dutsin fretting over you. You just breath, feeling a bit safer than you did outside. Then something rams into the side of the bus. The kids start screaming and Steve shouts something. You gather your strength once more and stand up, your body screaming at you. You see those demon dogs are trying to get in through the roof. You watch Steve start fighting them as you push the kids behind you. You step forward to help when suddenly they stop. Then they all run away and its quiet. After a few moments you feel weak and slump to the floor.
âWoah woah, Hendersonâ Steve surges forward and grabs you by the shoulders, you hiss in pain as he grabs the wound, âShit, this is badâ
âBad? What do you mean bad? How bad??â Dustin questions, his eyes watering at the thought of loosing his sister.
âIâm fine Dusty.â You say standing up. â It probably just needs a cleaning and some stitches that all.âÂ
âYou look like you should be an extra in a WW2 documentary.â Steve deadpans. âYou should go home.â
You roll your eyes â Oh like YOU would know what that would look like, you donât even show up to history class.âÂ
â That's not the point Henderson, your arm is about to fall off.â
âI am not leaving these kids here defenseless.â you say crossing your arms, but wince as you do.
âFirst of all they have me, and second of all, you canât even move your arm! Youâd be in the way.âÂ
â Iâm sorry but who was the one that distracted those things? Who came up with that plan to get you back in the bus??â you say, annoyed at the accusation of being useless.Â
âshe has a pointâ muttered Lucas, earning him a smack in the arm by Max and a glare from Steve.Â
âListen Harringtonâ You say poking him in the chest. â Iâm fine, im not going anywhere, and I can kick your ass even with my arm fucked up. Now weâre going to get out of this FUCKING bus and figure out what the fuck is going on. AM I CLEAR?âÂ
A shocked silence settles in the bus. Lucas and Dustin chuckled and Max smirked in admiration. Steve glared at you, simply saying âCrystalâ and turned around marching off the bus. You roll your eyes as Lucas and Max get off as well, leaving only you and your brother.
âThat was really badass. The way you fought those demodogs back there.â Dustin said looking up at you.Â
You smile and ruffle his hair.Â
â I wasnât going to let them get my Dusty Bunâ You say in a baby tone pulling him in for a hug. He groans at the name but hugs you back.Â
âHENDERSONS MOVE YOUR ASSESâ Steve shouts. You roll your eyes and nudge Dustin towards the door.Â
âCome on, before King Steve blows a gasketâÂ
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
You find out that Dart killed Mews and are absolutely devastated. Dustin felt guilty as he was basically the reason why your beloved cat died.Â
âItâs fine Dustin, now I have even more of a reason to kick their doggy ass.âÂ
You walk ahead of the group seething in anger and fear. Your arm was still sluggishly bleeding and throbbing in pain.Â
âYou really should do something about that shoulderâ Steve said as he walks up next to you.Â
âSure, let me just stop at the hospital while my brother and his friends chase flesh eating dogs from another dimension.â you reply in an sarcastic tone.
âIâm just trying to help.â Steve says in a soft tione
You roll your eyes and mutter a fine. You then rip a strip of fabric from the bottom of your shirt and wrap it around your shoulder.Â
âThere are you happy now?âyou ask
Steve is stunned, he never realized how...tough you are.In fact this whole experience has made him realize how smart and resilient youâve become. Far different from the shy quiet girl you used to be when the two of you were friends. He never wanted to stop being your friend, in fact he even harbored a little crush on you but he just got caught up in the popularity and attention. Then he got with Nancy and started seeing you constantly again, only now you hated him. It hurt him in ways he didnât understand. And while heâll always love Nancy, heâs starting to realize that maybe heâs starting to fall in love with you too.
You look at him weird, as he just stared at you with this weird look on his face. You walked past him as the entrance to the lab becomes clear.Â
âHey guysâ You shout. âWeâre here.â
Then you hear it. Bone chilling roars fill the air. The lights are out inside the lab and you can hear the screams of the people inside. and then rustling comes from the woods. You push the kids behind you and Steve as you tighten the grip on your weapons.Â
âSteve?â âY/n?â
âNancy?ââ âJonathan?â
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
After finding out El was actually alive and Willâs interrogation, you officially have seen it all. You, Steve, and the rest of the kids stayed in the Byers house while the âA teamâ went back to the lab. You finally were cleaning your shoulder when you heard the rumble of an engine.Â
Great Billy Hargrove.
âItâs my brother! If he catches me here heâll kill meâ Max says, he tone laced in fear. You and Steve look at each other, and then Steve walks out to deal with Billy.Â
âQuick hide and donât let him see youâ you say moving toward the door. You open it in time to see Billy knock Steve down and kick him. You flinch and are just glad that it wasnât you.Â
âOhâ Billy coos, â Are you gonna let me in Princess or am I gonna have to move you?âÂ
âMoving me sounds fun, how about we try thatâ you flirt back, hey anything to get him to calm down.Â
He chuckles. âNice try toots but I got a bone to pick with my step sister.â And with that she shoves you out of the way. You realize that you canât fight Billy off alone, so you run to help Steve.Â
âCome on Harrington, up you goâ You try and help him up. You hear the kids shouting and some stuff smashing. âCome on Steve, heâs on there with the kids.â You say urgently.
âIâm gonna kill him.â Steve says, finally getting up. You and Steve rush into the house to see Billy holding Lucas up against a shelf. Steve then rushes to the two, as you go to the kids making sure theyâre behind you.Â
âYOUâRE DEAD SINCLAIR, SO DEADâÂ
âNo, you areâ and with that Steve punches Billy in the face. You pull Lucas away, checking him over to make sure heâs alright. The kids are cheering Steve on as he beats Billy.Â
âKICK HIS ASS STEVEâÂ
Then the tables turn. Billy smashes a plate over Steves head, knocking him down and punching him in the face. They get into the living room and Billy isnât stopping. Heâs punching Steve in the face continuously.Â
âSTOP YOUâRE GONNA KILL HIMâ Dustin screamsÂ
âBILLY NOâÂ
You rush forward and try to pull him off. âBilly thats enough, heâs already down!â he just pushes you to the ground and resumes his beating. You get up, desperate to help Steve.Â
âY/n!â You hear Max yell. You look at her and she hands you something.Â
Willâs morphine.Â
Without a second thought you ripped the cap off the needle and injected the drug in Billyâs neck. He flinched and stood up, giving poor Steve a break from his brutal beating.Â
âyoubitchwhatdidyoudoâ He slurred as he pulled the needle from his neck. He then fell on his back, half unconscious. Max, surprising you all, took Steves bat and yelled.
âFrom now on you leave me and my friends alone, you understand?!âÂ
âScrew you.â
She brought down the bat between his legs. Your eyes widened as she slammed the nail covered bat on the floor between them.Â
âSAY YOU UNDERSTAND. SAY IT! SAY IT!â
âI understandâ Billy finally whispered as the drugs took over. After watching that you ran over to Steve. You checked his pulse just to make sure he was alright.
âAlright Harrington, get upâ You said. âCome on Steve.âÂ
âY/n, we donât have time.â Mike said. âWe have to help El.âÂ
âHow are you even going to the tunnels Mike? Itâs too far to walk.â You say as you put Steve's head on your lap.Â
Max then walks up to Billy and pulls his keys out of his jacket. âY/n can drive us.â she says. Then the whole party laughs. âWhat? What's so funny?â
âY/n canât drive usâ Dustin said laughing. You glare at him from your spot.
âWhy not?â Max asks.
âBecauseâ Mike replies, â She failed like three of her drivings testsâ
âYeah, unless you want to hit every mail box on the way and get whiplash, y/n is outâ Lucas chimed in.Â
âHey! I was not that badâ you yelled incredulously. â Besides what would we do with Steve?âÂ
âLeave him here?â Mike said
âWith Billy?â You asked
âYeah we could just tie Billy up or somethingâÂ
âWe are not leaving Steveâ Dustin said. âHeâll be chill when he wakes up, I promise.âÂ
âWe still canât goâ you say. The group groans
âWhy notâ Mike says
âBecause, I canât drive you.â You reply. Then Max âs face brightensÂ
âI can drive.â She saysÂ
Suddenly, youâre in the backseat of Billy's stolen car, Steve sprawled across yours, Mikes, and Dustin's lap as Max drives erratically to the field.Â
And then Steve wakes up.Â
ây/n??â He mutters looking at Mike, Mike gives him the side eye as Dustin starts talking.
âHey buddyâ Dustin says â He kicked your ass but you put up a good fightâ
âDustin!â you shout
âWhat?âÂ
âOh godâ Steve says realizing what was happening â Oh my god stop the car!!â
âSteve I promised them youâd be cool if we brought youâÂ
âoh godÂ
âMake a left hereâ âyouâre okayâÂ
âSteve relax sheâs driven beforeâ
âyeah in a parking lotââThat counts!â
âStop yelling!â
âStop the car, stop the carâ Max takes a sharp turnÂ
âWOAHHâ âSTOPTHE CARâ
âSteve calm downâ âI told you we should have left him!ââ
âAHH SLOW DOWNâ âCALM DOWNâ
âEVERYBODY SHUT UP! IâM TRYING TO FOCUSâÂ
Max hits the breaks as she makes to to the field. You all stumble out of the car and head to the trunk, getting ready to head into the tunnels. As youâre putting on your mask and goggles Steve stumbles to the back of the car yelling,Â
âHELLO! Do you guys hear me, we are not going down there!âÂ
âY/n how could you let them talk you into hisâ âARE YOU DEAF? HELLO?
âWE ARE NOT---âÂ
âSTEVE!â Dustin shouted, âThe fact of the matter is that a party member needs our assistance. We canât just abandon her.âÂ
â...fineâ Steve says, and he puts on the bandana and goggles. You walk up to him and hand him his bat. â Wow Harrington, youâve never looked betterâÂ
âHa ha, get in the holeâÂ
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
After struggling to get into the hole, you finally made it into the tunnels. It was dark and damp in there. Cold as you and the party walked further and further into what could be your doom. Specks of...something floated in the air and the walls were covered in what looked like vines. Steve was at the from of the line while you were at the end.Making sure both ends were covered and there wasnât any chance at a sneak attack.Â
You stood at the back with Dustin as he kneeled down to tie his shoe and then a flurry of that white shit sprayed in his face. He started freaking out immediatly, screming and spitting
âSHIIT! ITS IN MY MOUTH!â Â
Steve ran over to him and started asking whats wrong. Seeing Steve so worried about your brother warmed your heart, especially because itâs been so long that Dustin had a male figure who cared about him in his life. Now that you think about it, Steve has been really protective over Dustin these past few days, in fact he--
âHey Y/n, are you okayâ Steve says, interrupting your thought.Â
You look at him and nod, âWe should keep goingâ
He nods and take his place back in the front. The group only had to walk a few more steps till they reached the hub,Â
âLetâs torch itâ Steve said as he stepped forward. The kids spread out, pouring gasoline on every inch of the cavern. After you were done, Steve pulled out his lighter and flicked it on.Â
âYou ready?â He said. You all nodded and prepared to run for your life. Steve threw the lighter and the whole hub was lit. The everyone ran. Mike got caught as a vine wrapped around his leg. Steve struggled to it get off when you came around.
âStand back!â you yelled and swung you hockey stick down on the vine a couple times. This cut it in half as you heard it..squeal?? You then helped Mike up and urged him to start running. You were almost back to the hole when you were stopped.Â
A demodog stood in the way of your freedom. Hunched low and growling as it wait for you to make your move. Thats when Dustin spoke up.
âDartâ âShh Dustin get behind meâ You shushed him, trying to pull him away from the creature but with no luck. He slowly walked toward iy.
âDustin what are you doing?ââGet away from itâ the rest of the group whispered as he pulled a candy bar from his pocket.
âyumm nougatâ He said, breaking the candy bar into pieces and fed them to the demon dog. âThere you go buddy, eat upâ He then waved to you.Â
âhurry up goâ He said still crouched down. Carefully, each member of the party passed by. Creeping passed the demodog who paid no attention.
âBye buddyâ Dustin whispered as you and Steve pulled him away.Â
You finally got to the hole. You and Steve helped each of the kids up the rope. Rushing as you heard the rest of the demodogs running to find you. You finally got Dustin up the rope when you saw them. The pack of demodogs running full speed toward you and Steve. There was no time for either of you to get up the rope. Steve pulled you into his chest as the pack drew nearer. You tensed up, waiting to get torn apart by these creatures.
âY/N! STEVEâ Dustin cried, being held back by Mike and Lucas.Â
The closer they got the harder it was for you to breath. You closed your eyes and dug your face into Steves chest.
They ran past you. The demodogs run right passed you and Steve as if you werenât there. You feel them run past your legs, bumping into you as they are called somewhere else.Â
You sigh in relief . You look around the cavern, realizing youâre not dead. Steve laughs a breathless laugh as you smile, the threat of death gone. You realize that youâre still pressed up against him, and look up. Staring into the brown eyes of the one and only Steve Harrington. His goggles pulled up against his forehead and his bandana around his neck.Â
You donât know if the adrenaline or you not giving a fuck, but you fling off your safety glasses, pull down your bandana ans surge up.
Capturing Steveâs lips in a kiss.
He makes a little âoomphâ sound in surprise as he realizes what's happening. But then he relaxes and kisses you back, wrapping his arms around your waist. Your hands go into his hair as you wrap your arms around his neck, prompting him to lean closer. His tongue brushes against your bottom lip and you begin to let it in when--
âOH GOD, REALLY?âÂ
Dustin. âGUYS THEY'RE MAKING OUTââ
âEwww, come on do you really gotta do that hereâ Lucas complains.
âYeah! we donât wanna see thatâ Mike says, frowning in disgust.Â
âCome onâ Max says, pulling Dustin and Lucas by the collar of their shirts. Mike following behind them.
You pull away from Steve, giggling as you see the awe struck face he's making.Â
âCome on King Steveâ You say, starting to crawl up the rope. âBefore Max starts joy riding and leaves us here. He shakes his head as he watches you get to the top and starts climbing.Â
âHold your horses Henderson, Iâm coming.â
#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington x henderson!reader#steve harrington#dustin henderson#lucas sinclair#mike wheeler#reader insert#stranger things x reader#fanfic#steve headcanon#netflix#enemies to friends to lovers#adventure#d&d campaign
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⤠made-up love song drabbles
Seokjinâs chapter ixÂ
kim seokjin x reader warnings; angst, this feels pretty heavy at certain points but gets lighter as you go on, thereâs a therapy session included, and just a lot of introspection words; 7,459
authorâs note; this kind of ran away with me, wasnât expecting it to be so long haha but I hope you enjoy!Â
Read the original chapter ix hereÂ
âŞď¸ read the series here / and drabbles here
After you left Seokjin immediately poured the rest of his whisky down the sink and rinsed his glass. His mind was whirring, head heavy and starting to throb. He swallowed two painkillers down with some water and took a deep breath. He felt like crying. It felt like everything was crumbling around him. All his recent happiness, all his progress, and now possibly it seemed, his relationship with youâŚÂ
Heâd wanted nothing more than to beg you to stay, and he had to an extent, but he knew it wasnât right. He closed his eyes, not quite believing youâd witnessed all that. You probably thought he was a monster. He hadnât lost his temper quite like that in a while, not since before the divorce⌠Embarrassment washed over him, yet he couldnât stop himself from still being mad at Nana. He knew what you said made sense. He knew heâd been out of line but Nana continuously goaded him. Sheâd done so throughout their marriage. But he was no saint, he knew how to provoke her too. Itâs what they did best.Â
He moved away from the sink and tried to quash his anger, instead thinking of you and how much he had hurt and upset you. He hadnât meant for it to get that bad, and he knew deep down that the reason he was so angry was because heâd brought it all on himself. He caused the incident by keeping his relationship with you secret. It hadnât been on purpose, he wasnât being vindictive, if anyone would believe him. He just⌠He had been selfish. He didnât want to ruin anything because he was finally really happy after god knows how long. It was stupid in hindsight, but what was done was done now.Â
He reached for Arinâs mug of hot chocolate and fresh waves of guilt and emotion hit him. She didnât deserve any of this. He needed to be there for her, to push his own troubles away and put on a brave face because none of this was her fault. She needed to know that. Thankfully, the drink hadnât grown cold yet, and he finished it off with some cream and mini marshmallows. He took one last deep breath and made his way down the hallway. Moping was no good for him. Thatâs what Chaewon always said.Â
Arin looked happy to see him, instantly reaching out to him as he took a seat next to her. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and hugged her close, kissing the top of her head. He immediately felt lighter with relief. His daughter had always been his magical cure, and even though a cuddle wouldnât make everything in his life right again, it certainly helped, and was very much needed. She asked where you were at one point, and unsure what to say, and feeling like shit for lying, he quickly said you needed to be somewhere. Arin probably didnât buy it, looking dubious as a result of today, bus she didnât say anything, asking instead if they could watch a movie.Â
She wasnât very talkative, and he didnât blame her. Neither was he. He spent most of Shrek the Third lost in his own thoughts. As his anger slowly drifted away, shame replaced it. Heâd been absolutely awful today and even if some of the things heâd said to Nana came from a valid place of concern, most were shouted for no reason other than frustration and hatred on his part. He was ashamed of himself.Â
After the movie finished, Arin complained she was feeling hungry, so he left her to pick a new movie while he found something to cook up for dinner. He caught sight of the bowl of salad and his heart sunk, remembering the picnic outside. There was no salvaging it now, everything had probably spoiled in the sun, and as he waited for Arinâs dinner to cook, he went outside with a garbage bag, throwing away all the food youâd painstakingly prepared. It felt like he was throwing your relationship in the trash. He didnât eat with that thought in mind, managing one piece of toast before it turned on him.Â
At around 6pm his phone started to ring, vibrating in his front pocket and giving him a shock. For a split second he prayed it was you, but he knew he was being foolish. You needed time and if he was being honest with himself, so did he. He needed to concentrate on Arin tonight, as much as heâŚlovedâŚyou, his daughterâs wellbeing was the most important thing. If he could just make sure Arin was okay, then tomorrow he could concentrate on you and him.Â
Pulling out the device he saw it was Nana. He suddenly felt very, very sick but picked up with a cautious hello. He was almost 100% sure she wanted to speak with Arin, the only way she could seeing as Arin was too young to have a phone of her own, but he was still wary, not wanting a repeat of earlier.Â
âI want to speak to my daughter.â There was anger to her tone, and he knew her well enough to understand she had her guard up right now. Sheâd left his place upset and emotional, and that was two of the things she hated people seeing. Especially him. She hated being vulnerable.Â
Seokjin sighed weakly. âNana, come on, donât be like that.â He hesitated, wanting to say sorry for today but the word wouldnât come. Despite the guilt setting in, he was still pretty angry and frustrated himself.Â
âI want to speak with Arin,â she repeated. âWill you let me?â
âOf course I will,â he replied. What did she take him for?Â
He turned to Arin, ready to tell her it was her mom on the phone, but she was already waiting, her ears probably catching Nanaâs name a few seconds previous. He smiled gently at her and passed his cell phone over. He tried to concentrate on the television as they spoke, not wanting to eavesdrop. Arin was uncharacteristically quiet as she hummed along to whatever Nana was saying, the occasional okay and I know slipping from her lips as she curled a lock of hair around her finger over and over again, but he understood why. Today had been overwhelming for everyone involved but especially her. She hadnât seen or heard them argue in a long time, both he and Nana careful to hide them from her as of late. Today had been an awful mistake and the now a stronger wave of guilt was eating him up.Â
After a few minutes he heard Arin tell her mother she loved her and then she hung up, returning the phone to Seokjin. He stretched over and placed the device on the coffee table, turning back to his daughter apologetically.  âIâm sorry about today, Arin.âÂ
She immediately flung herself into his arms, wrapping hers around his sides to hug him tight. He squeezed her right back, running his fingers through her hair gently. âDaddy was really angry, I shouldnât have shouted.âÂ
âMommy shouted too,â she reminded him. âShe was angry that I called Y/N my stepmom.â Hesitantly she looked up at him, her eyes wide with worry. âI didnât know it was wrong.âÂ
Seokjin sighed gently, trying to see things from Nanaâs point of view. âItâs not a wrong word. Itâs just a word that hurt your motherâs feelings.â Â Arin looked a little confused by that explanation, and suddenly Seokjin felt the urge to be as honest as he could with her. She was still young, yes, but she wasnât stupid. Far from it actually. She deserved not to be kept in the dark.Â
âShe⌠she didnât know that Y/N is my girlfriend.âÂ
âWhy?â
âI was wrong and didnât tell her.â
Arin stayed silent as she mulled his words over. After a few moments she simply said, âI didnât know that.âÂ
Seokjin ran a hand down her back, choosing his next words carefully. âWill you tell me what happened today? How mommy found out?â
Arin wriggled away from him to get comfier, sitting back against the sofa again. Seokjin copied, lifting his arm up so she could cuddle up to him. âShe asked if I had a new bracelet and I told her Y/N had bought it for me last weekend when I stayed with her.âÂ
Looking down at her wrist now, Seokjin saw no bracelet and he guessed Arin had taken it off in a bid not to hurt her mom even more. She was such a sweet child, always thinking of other peopleâs feelings.Â
âMommy asked who she was and I said she was my stepmom â only because Suzie told me thatâs what she is. Suzie has one too and it was fun because then we both had stepmoms.âÂ
Seokjin nodded along in understanding. âItâs okay, it was only a misunderstanding. But to use that word it needs to be discussed first, okay?âÂ
It was Arinâs turn to nod and Seokjin continued carefully. He was well aware everything was up in the air now so it hurt hearing the words that came out of his own month. âRight now Y/N is just Y/N. Before we use that word we have to make sure she likes it, alright? And mommy too.âÂ
âI didnât know.âÂ
âI know you didnât,â he comforted, giving her shoulder a reassuring squeeze. He wasnât even too sure she knew what exactly the word meant.Â
They both stayed silent for a little while before Arin spoke again. âYou and mommy havenât argued for a long time until todayâŚbecause I said that wordâŚâ
âHey,â Seokjin exclaimed softly wanting her to look his way. âWe didnât argue because of you. None of this is your fault, okay? Itâs my fault and Iâm really sorry.âÂ
She gave him a small smile and patted his head. âItâs okay, daddy. I still love you.âÂ
He couldnât help but chuckle slightly. He could always count on his daughter to cheer him up. âThank you, Arin.â He kissed her cheek. âI love you too. Very much.âÂ
The new week started off badly. He had been foolish to think Mondays were something of a fresh start, foolish to think calling you first thing in the morning was a good idea, and as you told him you needed some space and that youâd call him once the week was over he couldnât help but think the worst. Youâd insisted that you werenât mad at him, and you had no reason to lie to him, but there was no doubt you were upset⌠overwhelmed. That morning heâd woken up even more ashamed of the way heâd acted the day before, wincing as he remembered the way heâd lost his temper. Heâd sworn that he would never let that side of himself appear ever again, but it was easier said than done. Nana had struck a nerve with the way she had spoken to you and it had been impossible to keep his cool.Â
He felt deeply ashamed when he thought about how confused you must have felt watching he and his ex-wife hurl abuse at each other. Deeply ashamed when he thought about the way youâd found out things he had never told you⌠You were hurt heâd never let you know what triggered his divorce, and he understood why completely. It wasnât like it hadnât crossed his mind to share such a personal detail with you, it had, of course it had, he just couldnât bring himself to say the words. Your experience with infidelity was the complete opposite of his. You had your heart torn to pieces by your ex-fiancĂŠ and he had his ego bruised⌠His marriage with Nana had already been completely over, he just didnât have the guts to get out. She was correct, he was a coward through and through.Â
But most of all he was deeply ashamed of his behaviour entirely. He had never meant to compare the both of you. He had never meant to use you to hurt Nana. It was extremely petty, such a low blow, and he didnât know where it had come from. Rage had washed over him and heâd spat words that he couldnât take back. It was the worst thing heâd ever done in his entire life, and despite the grievances he had with Nana, he regretted those words deeply. He hadnât wanted to hurt her like that. It was shameful, and he felt horrendous for hurting both women with his foolish behaviour.Â
Was there a happy ending after this? If Nana didnât already hate him, she did now, and you were probably not too far behind. Youâd seen him at his most poisonous, heard him use you to prove a point, found out things heâd kept from you, and learned heâd kept you a secret from his ex-wife. How embarrassed you must have felt⌠How confused⌠Heâd made so many mistakes along the way, it was a wonder they hadnât caught up with him soonerâŚÂ
He wouldnât be able to bear it if you wound up hating him. Not when he loved you so much. He hadnât even had a chance to confess yet, coming so close to it Saturday night but backing out because he was scared it was too soon. Heâd made the decision there and then to tell you once he took you to Paris, getting swept away with the idea and the romance of it all, but now the regret for not professing his love that night was like a lead weight inside his chest. Would it have changed anything? Would yesterday have had a different outcome?Â
And while he was regretting things, he regretted not letting Nana know about the relationship. Yesterday could have been avoided completely â maybe.Â
The more he thought, the worse it got and by Tuesday he could feel himself spiralling. He knew the feeling all too well. Soobin had already worked out something was the matter. (His lack of morning shave a dead giveaway.) And that meant he was doing a terrible job at hiding his mood. He couldnât have Arin sensing the same. She obviously hadnât forgotten about the weekend and wouldnât anytime soon, but he couldnât make it worse for her. He needed to be there for her, as her father, not too busy distracted with his own misery. It was selfish.Â
But he couldnât suppress it all. He knew that was unhealthy. So, Tuesday night, once Arin was tucked up in bed sound asleep, he called the one person his former happiness had been neglecting for months nowâŚÂ
âSeokjin,â Chaewon greeted, her warm voice laced with surprise. âLong time no speak.âÂ
He felt guilt immediately wash over him. âYeah⌠Iâm sorry about that.â It was stupid really, she wasnât taking it personally, he could guarantee that, but nevertheless it was an emotion he was all too familiar with these days.Â
Chaewon chuckled. âDonât apologise for being happy and not needing me.âÂ
His heart twisted.Â
She sensed his trouble. âJin?â
He hesitated, looking down at the bottle of whisky sat at his desk. He was in his home office. âSomething happened.âÂ
There was silence as his therapist processed his vague words before she pressed him gently, âOh?âÂ
He took a breath. âAre you free to talk?âÂ
âYes, of course.âÂ
âIâm sorry for calling you out of hours.â He apologised. âDonât feel bad about billing me for this. Iâll even pay double.âÂ
âSeokjin, donât be silly,â she told him softly.  âLetâs name this a friendship call. Now, whatâs wrong?â She sensed the last bit of reluctance he was holding onto. âCome on, you can tell me anything.âÂ
He sighed. âI donât know where to start.âÂ
âHow about from the beginning?â
They spoke for an hour in the end, Chaewon listening attentively as he explained the weekendâs events. He left nothing out, or least what he could remember. He made no attempt to hide his wrongdoings or soften the story. He didnât want to. He knew he had done wrong. She was sympathetic, but she didnât mince her words when it came to her disappoint in him.Â
After the argument he and Nana had gotten into just before Arin had moved in with him, he had worked hard with Chaewon to find a way to curb the anger he often felt when he and his ex-wife communicated. He thought he had been successful, but now he realised all heâd done was find ways to avoid it. He barely spoke to Nana unless he had to, a hello barely exchanged when she called in the evenings to speak to their daughter. A text shared to confirm when Arin would get picked up for the weekend, or one shared to cancel visits⌠He saw her even less. Jia, Nanaâs PA and closest friend was the one who collected their daughter, and he knew it was because his ex-wife wanted to avoid him just as much.Â
In the long term they had just been making things worse. Thatâs why last Sunday had been so bad. A build-up of every single frustration felt since the last time theyâd seen one another, because no doubt Nana had her own list. It was a recipe for disaster.Â
It felt good to confide in someone though, someone who knew him very well on a professional and personal level. Chaewon was amazing at putting him in his place so kindly. It was a gift really, and he appreciated it immensely. The older woman saw his negative traits but never judged him. She understood them and tried her best to help him with them. He guessed that was her job, but she did it so well it was hard not to see her as some sort of friend.Â
Thatâs why when she asked to see him in person tomorrow he didnât hesitate to free up his schedule. Truth was, he wanted it too. His mind was still clouded and he needed her insight. Her advice. He wanted a good night sleep too but he didnât think that would be possible any time soon, no matter how much Chaewon tried to help him. Not when his sheets continued to smell like you⌠ Â
.
.
âItâs about time you both let go of the past.âÂ
Seokjin let Chaewonâs words sink in as he sat opposite her, nervously chewing on a nail. It wasnât a habit of his, but it was somewhat of a distraction right now. A comfort. They should have let go of the past a long time ago. Maybe then they would have divorced sooner. Maybe then there would be less resentmentâŚ.Â
âArin is the one thing you have in common and you need to work together in order to be the best possible parents you can.âÂ
That cut his heart deep, a twinge similar to what heâd felt all week. Ever since you left. âI know,â he replied quietly. âItâs justâŚâ
He couldnât continue. Despite how heâd insinuated Nana was a bad mother, he didnât think that deep down. They both loved their daughter equally, but that love was separate. It had been separate practically since she was born. Arin was missing their combined love, although she knew no differentâŚÂ
âYou need to let go of all that bitterness and resentment.â Chaewon continued. Words she had said fairly regularly for the last two years or so. âFor your sake, for ArinâsâŚâ But now there was a new addition. ââŚand Y/Nâs.âÂ
Seokjin snorted. âWho said I havenât scared her away already?â
Chaewon stare turned a little stern. âIt was a shock to the system, anyone would need some time to process what happened.â When he stayed silent, she continued. âYou have to make her see youâre trying your best to change things. You need to take responsibility for your actions.âÂ
âI will.âÂ
He wanted nothing more than to apologise profusely and answer any questions you had, but youâd requested time first and he was listening. He was just scared that time would work against him. He continued on, ignoring his deepest, darkest worry.Â
âItâs not fair on her. She should never have witnessed all that, and it just drums in how unfair this has been to Arin her whole life.â Arin had been the witness to many an argument when he and Nana were still married. âI hurt the people closet to me because of my careless actions,â he concluded with a sad smile. Time after time.Â
âAnd itâs not too late to change that,â Chaewon reminded. âPut a stop to all this nonsense.âÂ
Seokjinâs smile grew for a millisecond, feeling like a child getting told off.Â
âYour marriage with Nana didnât work out, thatâs life. But you have a beautiful little girl together. Thatâs the most important thing, and it goes hand in hand with your own happiness.â She paused and then continued. âItâs very obvious that Y/N brings a great deal of that to the table.â
Yes, you did make him deliriously happy. He felt young again when he was with you. He felt invincible. Loved. He felt loved.Â
âConcentrate on both of them â Arin and Y/N â and make some changes. Talk to Nana â civilly. Make this work and you can all be happy. I promise you that.âÂ
He had never heard Chaewon like this before, she was practically pleading with him. He let out a little laugh. âYou make it sound so simple.âÂ
She simply smiled at him. âIf youâre determined enough, it is.âÂ
.
.
âMom wants to talk to you.âÂ
Seokjin looked at his phone outstretched in Arinâs hand with slight confusion. For the past four nights, ever since Sunday, Nana had spoken with Arin just before she had to get ready for bed. It was routine now, another avoidance, he exchanged a hello with her and then passed the phone on. Her tone less defensive as the days went on. Tonight had been the same despite his session with Chaewon this lunchtime. But to his surprise, maybe Nana was making the first move.Â
He took the phone from Arin with a smile, not wanting to make her nervous. Usually he left her alone to speak to her mother, not wanting to pry or insert himself but tonight he was sat next to her on the sofa, replying to emails on his laptop. He hadnât been listening at all, too engrossed with finalising details for an upcoming project, so of course it had come as a shock to find Arin passing the phone to him.Â
âHello?â
âI was just wondering if I could have Arin this weekend.â Nana totally bypassed a greeting of any kind, but she wasnât demanding in her tone, nor defensive, it was just the way she was. Sheâd always been straight to the point, no time for pleasantries, and many years ago, when theyâd first met, heâd found it highly amusing.Â
âUm, of course,â he replied, taken back a little. He would be more than happy for her to have Arin. It wasnât her weekend, but that had never bothered him before. He wanted Arin to see her as much as possible. It was only fair seeing as their daughter now lived with him.Â
There was a brief silence before Nana spoke again. Had she been expecting him to say no? Surely not. But then again, after last weekend maybe her worries were valid. She found her bearings. âWhat time does she finish school? Iâm taking Friday out, Iâll drive down and collect her.âÂ
Seokjin couldnât help but raise an eyebrow in surprise. Nana had not once collected Arin herself. âShe finishes at 3.â
Nana hesitated, âDo you think theyâd let her finish early?âÂ
âI donât know⌠Itâs usually only emergencies ââ
âNever mind,â she stopped him. âThere was just a bunch of things Iâd planned, thought we could get a head start, itâs fine.âÂ
He glanced over at Arin who was watching him hopefully. It was obvious what their phone call had entailed. Theyâd been making plans for the weekend and Arin was visibly excited. He smiled at her.Â
âI could always phone the school tomorrow,â he suggested to Nana. âSee if itâs possible. Maybe she could skip the whole day?âÂ
Nana sounded ecstatic. Something he hadnât heard in years. âReally? Do you think thereâs a chance theyâd say yes?â
He shrugged to himself. âItâs just one day, I donât see why not.âÂ
Nana was busy thinking. âMaybe I could take tomorrow afternoon away from the office too⌠Pick her up at 3.âÂ
It was his turn to hesitate now, opening his mouth ready to suggest something. He knew he owed his ex-wife an apology, but over the phone just wouldnât do. He needed to see her. He went for it. âOr I could do it for you? I can drive her to you.âÂ
âYou would do that?â She sounded shocked.Â
âIf sheâs allowed to miss a day then yes.âÂ
âOh.â It wasnât often Nana was left speechless. âOkay,â she agreed after a moment. âThat would be great actually.âÂ
His attention went back to Arin then, who was practically vibrating with excitement next to him. His replies hadnât given away much, but it was enough to tell her sheâd be seeing her mother this weekend â and possibly skipping a day of school. He grinned at her and she clung to his arm.Â
âCan I say bye to mom?âÂ
âIn a minute, Arin,â he chuckled, amused by her eagerness. âWeâre not done yet.â His next sentence was directed at Nana. âIâll text you tomorrow morning and let you know what the principal said.âÂ
For the first time in god knows how long there was no malice or sarcasm attached to her gratitude. âThank you, Seokjin.âÂ
He took it as a positive sign. Things were changing. They would change.Â
The next day he dropped Arin off at school himself. The plan had been to head to reception and ask if he could talk with Principal Jung in person, but after saying his goodbyes and watching Arin meet up with some friends in the playground he began to get second thoughts. What if he accidentally bumped into you? He was on pins even in the parking lot. He wanted to give you all the space necessary and the last thing you probably wanted to see was him walking towards you in the corridor. At work.Â
No, instead he drove to his office, phoning the principal as soon as heâd finished up his morning meeting. Hoseok â as heâd been told to call him â was completely understanding. Seokjin didnât even have to whip out the sob story about Arin missing her mom dearly. Dirty tactics were always the last resort, and he could talk a good game, but thankfully his skill wasnât needed today. Arin was all set to go this evening.Â
The drive wasnât a long one thankfully, just under an hour as Nana lived in the neighbouring city. This wasnât the first time heâd been to Nanaâs penthouse, the place sheâd bought after theyâd sold their family home, but the last time had been pretty explosive. Not nearly as bad as last weekend, but close. Arin had thankfully been waiting in the car for him that time, as he and her mother argued over where she should live permanently. Â
Seokjin stood beside Arin in the elevator, feeling nervous for the conversation he wanted to have. He was never above apologising when he was in the wrong, but with his ex-wife saying sorry had never come easily. It was childish and he knew he needed to change, so today was the perfect test. If he wanted a clean slate he had to be as honest as possible.Â
âMommyyy,â Arin squealed as she opened the door to greet them, barrelling into her practically.Â
Seokjin stood back as they hugged, a soft smile on his face.Â
âArin, I missed you,â Nana informed her, breaking away to take her bag. As she did so, she glanced at Seokjin, then back at their daughter. âListen, darling, go to your room for a little while so I can speak to daddy.âÂ
Seokjin felt a little relieved. At least they were on the same page â potentially.Â
Arin though, was unsure, looking between her parents as she spoke. âI donât want to. What if you argue again?â
He felt his heart break at her words. âWe wonât, sweetie,â he reassured, bending down to look her in the eyes. âI promise.âÂ
She still looked dubious, but then Nana took over, her voice light and breezy.  âWe wonât be long, okay? Think about what pizza you want to order for dinner.âÂ
Arinâs eyes lit up at that request and Seokjin couldnât help but chuckle. That pizza obsession of hers was getting dangerous. âOkay,â she agreed easily, waving to him before she skipped off to the furthest part of the apartment.Â
Seokjin watched her leave before rising up again, tugging down the ends of his jacket. Nana was looking at him, an unreadable expression on her face, but he knew it wasnât anger she was feeling, so that was a plus. He thought back to Sunday, how mad they had both been, how upset Nana had looked as sheâd rushed off. The guilt came back.Â
He exhaled. He might as well just bite the bullet. âIâm sorry for calling you a terrible mother. I didnât mean it.âÂ
Nana stayed silent but her arms wrapped around herself. It was such a vulnerable action, it took him by surprise.Â
He continued. âI was just frustrated. I let things build up and exploded.âÂ
She stared him straight in the eyes, shoulders sagging a little but her voice was strong. âYou know I love our daughter half to death.â
âI do,â he agreed. âI donât doubt that.âÂ
She look relieved. It made him feel oddly sad. He had never wanted to make her doubt herself as a mother. He was a piece of shit.Â
Still, she needed to understand some things. His point of view and where he was coming from. His frustrations werenât all for nothing. They were valid. âBut you have to understand Iâm the one who has to pick up the pieces when you end up cancelling on her. It takes its toll.âÂ
Nanaâs gaze flickered to the floor as she whispered. âIâm trying to be better.â Then she looked up again, her voice stronger. âIâm trying to free my weekends up. Iâm trying not to do as much. I thought maybe I could even have her for an evening every weekday? I could pick her up from school, take her out for dinner. I know itâs a distance but maybe I could get every Wednesday afternoon away from work... Hopefully.âÂ
Seokjin was impressed. Nana lived and breathed work so to hear she was thinking about possibly taking an afternoon away every week was⌠It made him very happy. âSheâd love that,â he grinned genuinely. âShe misses you a lot.âÂ
Nana couldnât help but smile too. âI miss her always.â With a slight chuckle she continued, âThis apartment is so quiet without her.â
Seokjin looked down at his feet and grimaced slightly. He knew that feeling all too well. Living without Arin had been close to torture after the divorce. Everything felt so silent, the house gigantic and lonely. He hated the thought of Nana feeling the same way. âYou can see her any time, Nana,â he murmured. âIâll never try to stop you.âÂ
Despite everything, their grievances toward one another, they had and would always co-parent well. Arin was their number one priority and she needed both parents in her life.Â
âI know that,â Nana nodded, âand Iâd never try to take her from you.âÂ
It didnât bear to think about, but he had to admit, sometimes it was easy for irrational thoughts to creep in when someone was left feeling insecure.Â
âShe loves living with you. Sheâs really settled at her new school, she never stops talking about her friends.â Nana continued, making small talk of sorts. He couldnât remember the last time theyâd done this. âSheâs the happiest Iâve ever seen her.âÂ
Seokjin nodded in agreement. She loved her new school, her new friends â her new life, you could say. That was easy to see.Â
Nana cleared her throat, dropping her arms to her sides. âI apologise too. I was out of line turning up at your door like that. I was just so mad... so hurt.â She took a few seconds. âI wish youâd just told me.âÂ
âI should have.â She was absolutely right. âI see that now and I regret it. It was wrong of me to keep my new relationship from you. I wasnât doing it to be vindictive. I just...â he stopped himself. Even though they werenât excuses, they felt like they were. His reasons didnât matter.
âYou should have been the first to know because of Arin. If I was in your shoes, if it was the other way around, I would have been angry too.â He stopped and sighed at his stupidity. âI never meant to hurt you, neither did Y/N. She actually had no clue you didnât know until that day.âÂ
Nanaâs eyes widened with shock, before she looked regretful. âYeah, that one makes me feel even guiltier. I shouldnât have spoken to her the way I did. It was a shock to hear Arin speaking about a stranger like that. A stranger I had no clue existed.âÂ
Seokjin appreciated her apology, but he needed to make sure she understood something. âYeah, about that, Arin really has never called Y/N her stepmom. Weâve only been together for a few months. I spoke to her about it and Arin understands thatâs not the case. It was just kids being kids.âÂ
Nana nodded. âI shouldnât have flown off the handle, and I should have listened to your explanation the first time around.âÂ
He held her gaze. âIâm not trying to replace you, Nana.âÂ
If thatâs what she was worried about, it wasnât the case. He had never meant to compare the two women and he regretted it deeply.Â
Nanaâs lips quirked up at the side, her voice relaxed and at ease. âBut eventually Arin will call her that.âÂ
His eyebrows shot up, understanding what she was getting at. âI donât know,â he shook his head. His relationship with you was up in the air right now. Heâd made one too many mistakes.Â
Nana brushed him off with sway of her hand. âI guess Iâll learn to deal with it when the time comes.âÂ
He admitted defeat. âAnd Iâll have to do the same.âÂ
It was inevitable really. One day Arin would probably have two blended families and while he really wanted his to be with you, he didnât want to get his hopes up right now.Â
Nana snorted. âFat chance of that happening. I donât have time to fall in love again.âÂ
He stayed silent, unsure what to say. Heâd thought the same once upon a time. Until you walked straight into his life. (Or, more fittingly, until heâd reversed straight into yours.) Everyone deserved love in their life and he hoped that one day his ex-wife would find it again.Â
She was looking over at him sadly now, eyes softening, and it was almost jarring to see her show this much emotion in front of him. âI did love you, you know,â she murmured before laughing quietly at herself. âI felt like I never told you enough, but in the beginning it was good, right?âÂ
âIt was.â Seokjin hated getting nostalgic, in fact, he actively avoided it, but in this moment he let himself go. Ten years ago, he and Nana had fallen hard for one another. It was fast and exhilarating but â âWe justâŚâÂ
âRushed into things that werenât meant to be?â She finished for him.Â
Heâd been so eager to marry before he was thirty, to follow in his parentsâ footsteps. He wanted, no, needed, to become CEO. Â He needed to build something he could be proud of, and having a family fit into that logic. Heâd had tunnel vision, but it wasnât all bad.Â
âI canât regret it though,â he told Nana softly, âbecause we made Arin.âÂ
âAt least we agree on one thing,â she chuckled.Â
âYeah,â he smiled.Â
It was strange speaking like this with one another. He couldnât even think of the last time something similar had happened. They were always too busy at one anotherâs throats, not listening to what the other had to say. Now all that fight had gone. They were both exhausted from years of bitterness. Years of fighting.Â
He didnât want to fight anymore.Â
Nana seemed to think the same.Â
âIâm ashamed she had to hear us fight like that,â she said. âI apologised on the phone butâŚâÂ
âSheâs okay.â He reassured. âI think she still thinks itâs her fault a little though. Iâve tried telling her it wasnât repeatedly.âÂ
âIâll talk to her over dinner.âÂ
âGood idea.âÂ
There was a pregnant pause before Nana chuckled. âThis is the first time weâve spoken so civilly in a long time.â She hesitated, wanting to say something else. He waited patiently, curious. âMaybe we should think about talking it out with a professional?âÂ
He raised his eyebrows. It wasnât a bad idea actually, but then⌠thing seemed to be working out well on their own right now. âMaybe we should see how things go first? Now that we know how one another feels.â They werenât out of the dark yet, but it was looking hopeful. âBut if you think it will help then I wonât refuse,â he added, wanting to show how seriously he was taking this.Â
She smiled slightly. âOkay, weâll see how things go.âÂ
It seemed like the conversation had run its course then, and Seokjin shuffled, about to suggest he head out now, but Nana spoke again. âAre you okay?â She asked. âNo offence, but you look like shit.âÂ
He laughed, actually laughed, at her words. He could always count on her to be honest with him. âI havenât been sleeping very well,â he admitted, âbut talking with you definitely helped.âÂ
She eyed him doubtfully. âI hope I havenât ruined things with you and Y/N. I can talk with her if you want?âÂ
âNo, itâs fine,â he shook his hand.Â
She looked down, feeling foolish. âI guess I did enough damage.âÂ
He chuckled. âNo, pretty sure I did that all on my own.âÂ
Looking up, her mouth opened, as if she was about to ask him what he meant but stopped herself at the last second. She wasnât there yet, and neither was he.Â
He took a step back. âI should go.â
Nana went to follow him to the door. âIâll have her back by Sunday. Do you want to say goodbye?â She saw his nod and called for their daughter, her voice echoing off the walls. âArin? Arin, darling, come here and say bye to your dad.âÂ
A few seconds later he heard Arinâs footsteps getting closer, she hovered by the entryway, looking worried for a second, as if she was expecting the worst but then she saw her parents smiling faces and relaxed instantly.Â
âIâll see you Sunday, okay?â Seokjin told her as she made her way towards him. He reached to pick her up, something she scolded him over sometimes because it was âembarrassingâ now. She was getting older, he kept forgetting, because to him she would always be his little girl. This time however, she let him do so, wrapping her arms around his neck as she kissed his cheek.Â
âOkay, bye daddy. Love you.âÂ
âLove you, too,â he grinned, kissing her back before he put her down.
Nana watched on with a grin of her own.Â
Being home alone was odd. Seokjin couldnât remember the last time heâd been on his own. In the week Misook was here to help out with Arin and the housework, then every other weekend she often dropped in when he needed her. When the house wasnât occupied by his daughter or Misook, you were here with him, so it had been quite a while since it was just him. It reminded him of the past, when heâd lived here all alone. He never wanted to go back to that.Â
He was happy to see Friday roll around. It felt like heâd been waiting all his life. Just one more day and heâd get to speak to you. The lack of communication was killing him. Ever since youâd began dating youâd spoken every day. It felt strange to be without that, like he was missing a part of himself. Heâd been able to distract himself with work throughout the week, but no amount of distractions could really stop him from thinking about you. Stop him from missing you. Because he did. Terribly.Â
The photo on his desk didnât help matters either â the two of you smiling together on the fishing trip heâd organised over the summer â but like hell was he hiding it away in a drawer.Â
It was probably best that Arin was with Nana this weekend. It gave you both some time to talk and sort things out â hopefully. He was praying so hard that everything would be okay, but he was getting ready to fight for you. Just in case. Of course he would listen to what you had to say, and respect it too, but if it happened to be bad news he would try his best to make you see how sorry he was and how hard he was trying to change. He couldnât lose you. Not when he loved you so much.
You made him want to be a better man.Â
.
.
He got home pretty late from the office, staying just to avoid an empty house and after having a quick shower and ordering takeout, he decided on an early night. This week had been mentally and emotionally draining so it was probably for the best. Plus the sooner he slept the sooner tomorrow would come.Â
Heâd just stepped out of the bathroom when he heard his phone ring in his sweatpants pocket. He pulled the device out automatically, expecting it to be Namjoon, because who else would be calling at this time? But to his surprise and utter amazement, he saw your name flashing across his screen.Â
His heart began to pound embarrassingly loud and he rushed to answer, sounding a little breathless as he murmured your name.
âHey, you,â your replied, and he swore he could hear the smile in your voice. His shoulders instantly released the tension he hadnât realised theyâd been holding.Â
âI wasnât expecting you to call tonight.â He heard himself say, cursing himself because it sounded so dumb. He was over the moon youâd decided to call. Of course he was.Â
âSorry, I hope Iâm not interrupting anything.âÂ
âOf course not,â he rushed. âWell,â he laughed, âI was just about to head to bed.âÂ
You laughed along softly, the sound making his heart sing. âI was going to wait until tomorrow but Soojung is with Taehyung tonight and being alone means I canât stop thinking about you.âÂ
He couldnât stop the sigh of relief that slipped past his lips. It was so good to hear you say that. âI havenât been able to stop thinking about you all week. Are you ready to talk? Iâm willing to answer any questions you have.â He meant every word.Â
âIâm ready,â you replied. âShould I come over? I donât want to do this over the phone.âÂ
âI can come to you?â He suggested instead, not wanting you to go out of your way for him. âArinâs with Nana until Sunday.âÂ
âOh. Okay. Now?âÂ
âItâs not too late?âÂ
âNo, itâs fine.â You sounded a little eager and that just made even more relieved. Heâd been expecting the worst all along. âI really want to see you.âÂ
He smiled, happiness overwhelming him. âIâll be there soon, okay? Really soon.â As he spoke he made his way into the closet, opening up his drawers to find a clean t-shirt.Â
âDonât speed,â you told him jokingly. Â
âOf course I wonât,â he laughed. âIâm going to hang up now but I wonât be long.âÂ
âOkay, see you soon, Seokjin.âÂ
He couldnât stop the grin on his face as he said his final goodbye, his heart racing with excitement as he tore off his old shirt to put the new one on. It was a little creased, but it would do. He didnât have time to find anything else.Â
He needed to see you.Â
He needed to be with you.Â
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February Day 2 - Protect
@daily-writing-challenge Warnings: Mention of harassment, violence
Dicenne and Kareenia Amberlight had been through a lot in their lives: Death, loss, injury, attacks, invasions, and much more. Kara was there for him after the death of his wife and son, Dice was there for her after her kidnapping, and they were there for each other after losing their parents. The remainder of the Amberlights had perished in the scourge invasion of Quelâthalas, so for a while now it had just been the two of them.
Dice had always been fiercely protective of his younger sister; while she had some fighting and magical prowess, she had always been a pacifist. People often saw that as a weakness and took advantage of it, but Dicenne was never one to sit on the sidelines when it came to inexcusable behavior.Â
So when Kara returned to their home in Ratchet shaking and in tears, he immediately went into protective big brother mode. He made her tea and sat her in her favorite cushy chair with a fuzzy blanket and some of her stuffed animals before getting the story from her. One of the drunk, out-of-towners at the tavern had made a few salacious comments towards her and tried to grab her. Kara was already extremely wary of strange men given what had happened to her in the past, but no one should be treating anyone that way and lessons needed to be learned.
He was looking for a young, human male with blond hair, wearing a slightly stained green shirt and suspenders; probably from one of the ships docked for the night. Shouldnât be too difficult to find, humans were still a bit of a rarity here even though Ratchet was a neutral port town.Â
Dicenne found him leaning against the outside of the tavern, drinking from a bottle tucked into a brown paper bag. Typical. The bruisers were good at running most of the riffraff back to their ships, but it was difficult to witness everything on a busy night like tonight. Thankfully, they all knew Dice well enough to leave him alone when he was on a mission. He was, essentially, an honorary bruiser, and would always look out for the people of the town.
âYou think itâs fun to harass women?â Dice stepped right up into the young human's space, staring him down. Being 6â8â and in shape had some major advantages, he often towered over many and was very, very good at appearing and being intimidating.
âWhat? Get the fuck out of here man, I didnât do shit.â The human scoffed and took another swig from his bottle. Drunk people were terrible liars.
âYou and I both know thatâs not-â Before Dicenne could even finish his statement, the human took a wide swing with his bottle directly towards the elfâs face. Bad idea. Dicenne had spent a good majority of his life on the front lines in the military, and just because he was no longer a part of that didnât mean he stopped practicing and sparring. It was important to keep those skills fresh given the world they lived in; never knew when one would need to arm and defend themselves. Dicenne easily caught his forearm and forced the human to smash himself in the head with the bottle. It cracked within the bag before dropping to the ground. The human looked surprised and dazed for a moment, before trying to pull his arm free to no avail.Â
âWhat theâŚ?! Get off me you crazy asshole, GUARDS, HELP!â The closest bruiser began whistling a jaunty tune and simply walked away; he would happily allow this. The human attempted to throw a punch with his other fist, but that too was caught. He kicked his feet and knees outwards, although at this point he was too drunk to really do any harm, and any blows that landed didnât seem to phase the much larger man.
âShut the fuck up, Iâm not going to kill you.â Even if it was really tempting. âAlthough if you keep struggling I might.â
The human exhaled an indignant growl, âThe fuck do you want?â
Dicenne gathered both of the manâs wrists together in one hand, pressing them against the wall over his head. He didnât respond, instead he just reached into the cuff of his boot with his free hand, withdrew a dagger, and promptly stabbed it through the right palm of the human, pinning it against the wall. He let out a blood-curdling scream as he stared in horror at the dagger protruding from his hand. âThe next time you even think about grabbing anyone without their consent, maybe youâll see that scar there and remember what might happen. The next person might not be so nice.â
Dicenne had his sister to get back to, so he turned on heel and headed back towards his home atop the hill, leaving behind the blubbering human with the dagger still pinning his hand to the wall. The man could figure out how to free himself on his own, the bruisers would be of no help. As far as they were concerned he wouldnât be bothering anyone else tonight. Or hopefully ever.
@karaamberlightâ
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