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sarcasmandships · 3 years

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yellow | paul lahote

paul lahote never wanted to imprint on anyone, but especially not on the one girl he couldn’t seem to protect, not even from herself.

word count: 3.8k

angst, hurt + minimal comfort

trigger warnings: eating disorder, death, hospital/medical scene, vomit

paul imprinted on y/n nearly a year ago, it wasn’t something he ever wanted. in fact, he tried so hard to fight the imprint at first that he made himself ill.

paul was only just beginning to learn that he couldn’t fight off every problem he encountered. imprinting on y/n had been a harsh awakening for him, and he knew now that he couldn’t punch and kick his way through life.

that didn’t stop him trying though, he stared at the hole he’d just created in the dry wall of his bedroom. he was going to have to buy another poster.

“paul, are you still there?” y/n’s voice was muffled through the phone which lay face down on his bed, “i heard a bang.”

and paul could hear her concern so he snatched the phone and held it up to his ear, “yeah i’m still here don’t worry,” he sighed, massaging the bridge of his nose.

“okay...” she said uncertainly, “are you alright?”

he was clenching his fists, his jaw, and every other muscle in his body, “yeah, yeah i’m fine,” he said, trying to maintain a light and airy tone as much as possible but the words just came out flat, “i should be asking if you’re okay.”

y/n took several minutes to answer, “you don’t need to worry about me paul.”

if only she knew that his entire life now revolved around worrying about her. about wanting to protect her, from the leeches, from every creep and asshole in this town, from every bout of stress or sadness.

“i never do anything else,” he tried to say jokingly, but his voice broke mid-way through the sentence and he punched his mattress.

“look paul...” he could hear her frowning through the phone as she sighed, “i gotta go to my appointment now but I’ll see you later for the bonfire, yeah?”

tears were burning in paul’s eyes as he croaked out a response, “yeah, do you need me to pick you up?”

“it’s all good, i’m going to emily’s first to give her a hand with the food so i’ll go down with her.”

“yeah, sounds great,” he said flatly, “i’ll see you there then.”

“bye paul,” she whispered and hung up the phone.

he launched the phone at the wall, and it shattered into chunks of useless plastic. he held his head in his hands and before he knew it, his whole body was racked with dry sobs.

paul lahote never wanted to imprint on anyone, but especially not on the one girl he couldn’t seem to protect, not even from herself.

he grabbed a pair of beat-up trainers from under his bed and pulled them on. he thundered downstairs and out the front door, ignoring the protests of his drunken father.

paul ran.

‘you can’t run away from your problems, paul,’ y/n would tease him.

maybe not, but he couldn’t do anything else because she wouldn’t fucking let him. y/n had always been stubborn but in the last few months she’d become increasingly closed off and defensive. if paul made the slightest attempt to ‘stick his nose where it didn’t belong’ then she’d shut him out for weeks on end.

being apart from her was agonising.

he used to think sam and jared were exaggerating when they talked about the pain of not seeing their imprints. but now he knew it was all too real and he couldn’t stand it, so paul had learned to bite his tongue so she wouldn’t give him the silent treatment.

that was something that did not come easy to him, but it was easier than not seeing her, not talking to her, not being close to her.

paul knew on some level it was selfish to let y/n play out her fantasises and pretend that everything was fine, he knew it was wrong for indulging her. but whenever he tried to confront her, to help her, then she would shut him out again and he couldn’t bare that.

it was raining heavily now, the hail stones battered off his exposed skin as he dove out of sight behind the tree line.

staying calm was not something paul was good at, he had to spend so much of his energy focusing on blocking out his anger and sadness and pain and anguish just to make sure he didn’t shift at an inappropriate moment.

but right now, he could smash through that blockade and let every emotion flood through his body as his flesh ripped and his bones snapped, and he shed his human form to leave a large, grey wolf in his place.

paul relished in the release, it felt good to finally let go of every negative emotion he was holding onto and embrace the wolf inside of him. he ran through the trees, taking in the smell of the wet earth and the salty sea air.

‘you can’t run away from your problems, paul’

y/n told him that once after a particularly explosive fight he’d had with his father. they sat on the beach, and she stroked his hair as he laid with his head on her lap. he told her he was going to leave home, she pointed out he had no money, he told her that he’d live in the streets if he had to.

‘you can’t run away from your problems, paul’ she had said, her fingers entangled in his hair.

but y/n didn’t seem to adopt that mentality when it came to her own problems, and paul’s desire to protect her made her problems, his problems. and now he had an overwhelming number of problems that everyone kept telling him he couldn’t run away from, but that wasn’t going to stop him from trying.

he kicked up soil and dead leaves behind him as he ran through the woods, the hailstones has subsided to a light drizzle which still managed to soak his fur. he paused to shake the water off him when he hear someone else’s voice in his head, someone else had shifted.

“hey paul.”

“hey jake.”

paul tried to shut off his inner monologue so that jacob couldn’t hear what he was thinking, he thought he was doing an alright job until-

“rough day, huh?”

paul growled.

“yeah i guess, y/n’s seeing her therapist right now....”

“is she getting better?”

paul could sense the concern in jacob’s thoughts but this wasn’t a conversation he wanted to have right now.

‘you can’t run away from your problems, paul’

well, what the fuck else was he supposed to do? everyone kept telling him that he couldn’t run away but no one was offering any alternative solutions.

it was always ‘calm down, paul.’

‘you can’t fight your way out of everything, paul.’

‘you can’t run away from your problems, paul’

well why the fuck not?

no one seemed to understand that he wasn’t running for his own sake but for everyone else’s. and most importantly, for y/n’s. it was excruciatingly difficult to keep those thoughts to himself and out of jacob’s mind, so he began running through the trees again to provide some kind of distraction.

“yeah, she’s going over to emily’s first to help out so i’m meeting her there.”

“do you think you might finally tell her tonight? it’s been nearly a year and she still has no idea....”

“she can’t handle it; she’s got enough going o,n i can’t burden her with all of this too.”

that was only part of it. paul was worried about how y/n would take the news that he, and all his friends were shapeshifting wolves that existed to protect the town from vampires. and even more concerning, how would she take the news that he had imprinted on her? y/n was too fragile right now, he had to protect her even if that meant keeping the truth from her.

but beyond that, he was worried that she wouldn’t accept him. paul had a crippling fear of rejection at the best of times, but the prospect of his own imprint rejecting him was unimaginable.

‘you can’t run away from your problems, paul.’

maybe not forever, but for right now he was going to sprint as fast as he could.

***

the blazing bonfire crackled just meters in front of them and yet y/n was still shivering; paul wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her close into his chest. she nuzzled into him and paul was filled with a burst of euphoria at their closeness. her eyes were barely open as she leaned into him, he tightened his grip on her frozen frame.

“are you okay?” he mumbled into her hair, it smelled like lavender.

she nodded slowly, “yeah, i’m just tired, today was pretty rough.”

paul frowned. he wished that they weren’t surrounded by so many people, they were sat a little away from the rest of the group, but they didn’t have the privacy he would’ve liked.

“do you want to talk about it?”

y/n sniffled, when paul looked down at her he saw tears slowly running down her cheeks and his heart shattered.

he pulled her in closer and wiped away the tears, “hey, hey what’s wrong?”

y/n just shook her head, “i don’t want to talk about it.”

‘you can’t run away from your problems, y/n’ he wanted to say.

“are you sure?” he asked hesitantly, desperately wanting to help but also not wanting her to clam up again.

she looked away from him; the glare from the roaring bonfire reflected in her glassy eyes. paul enveloped one of her cold, bony hand in his and squeezed it gently but her frown persisted. there was a hollowness in his chest as he stared at her miserable expression; paul knew he couldn’t punch away anyone’s problems but as it turns out, holding hands is just as ineffective.

“dr charles wants me to go to inpatient treatment,” she said bluntly, “he says my physical health is deteriorating too much.”

something twisted in his gut.

“but i thought you were…getting better?” he said cautiously.

paul knew that was a lie.

y/n knew that was a lie, but she was so good at pretending otherwise she had everyone convinced that she was getting better. everyone but him, and he didn’t want her to know that she wasn’t fooling him with the ‘i’m eating again, i’m doing great’ routine she had become so well-versed in.

“well, i’m not better,” she snapped, pushing paul off her as she leapt to her feet.

superhuman hearing or otherwise, everyone else around the bonfire heard y/n’s exclamation, and their heads snapped over to stare between her and paul. emily began to stand up but paul waved her off and she sat back down next to sam. he approached y/n slowly, tears continued to stream down her face but when he moved to place a reassuring hand on her shoulder, she pushed him away.

he held up his hands, “okay, okay – i won’t touch you, why don’t we go somewhere quiet to talk-”

“no,” she snapped, “i don’t want to talk paul, all i ever do is fucking talk about my feelings and as long as i say the right things then everyone thinks i’m better, but i’m not fucking better, okay?”

“i know,” he roared back, “i know you’re not better, in fact you’re getting worse. i watch you get sicker every single day, i watch you withering away, i watch you dying and there is nothing that i can do because you won’t let me.”

y/n bit her lip and looked away from him.

tears were burning in paul’s eyes, “i can’t make you better, i can’t make you eat, i can’t look after you and it’s killing me.”

“i never asked you to look after me,” she screamed back, tears flowing freely down her face now, “i don’t know why you think it’s your job to keep me alive but it isn’t-”

“yes, it is!”

paul was shaking now, he was trying to hold onto his humanity with every fibre of his being, but the pain and anger was overwhelming. he was reaching his breaking point. he tried to focus on y/n; she was his anchor and usually the thought of her, focusing on the sound of her heartbeat was enough to calm him down. but usually, she wasn’t the focus is his anger, and now when he looked at her all he saw was how frail and weak she looked.

she was dying and she wouldn’t let him help her.

everyone was staring now; paul didn’t want to be on this beach anymore, he couldn’t deal with this right now. it was all too much; his head was spinning and his limbs were trembling.

‘you can’t run away from your problems, paul.’

sam leapt to his feet, ready to jump in and tackle paul to the ground as he lurched towards y/n. but instead of shifting and attacking her, he grabbed her hand and led her away from the bonfire and the rest of the pack.

“paul what are you doing?” y/n asked through chattering teeth.

she didn’t try to fight him off but paul knew this was more likely a sign of her lack of energy, and not her willingness to go with him. they were at the edge of the beach now, where the sand bordered with the rough concrete path that led back towards the heart of la push. paul stopped in his tracks and turned to face y/n as he heard her breathing become increasingly shallow.

he studied her intently, emaciated body, pale lips, hollow cheeks. he could hear her heart beating slowly and irregularly inside her chest, he could see her struggling to catch a breath. despite her weakened body she stared back at him, with a clenched jaw and arms crossed across her chest.

“you can’t run away from your problems, y/n,” he finally said.

she snorted, “i’m not you, paul.”

“no, but you’re my impr-” he stopped himself before he revealed too much and ran a hand through his hair, “you’re my best friend y/n i-”

“no, jared is your best friend,” she said pointedly.

“for god’s sake can you stop being difficult for two damn seconds?” he snapped.

she let out a shrill laugh, “right sorry, i forget i’m just an inconvenience to everyone around here, i should just go.”

paul grabbed her hand before she could turn away from him. he towered over her, but when their eyes met it was like nothing else mattered. in every second of his existence, paul was acutely aware that gravity and the laws of nature didn’t bind him to the earth; she did. and when she looked into his eyes like that it only reminded him that she was his everything, before paul knew it, his anger was melting away and there was nothing but pure euphoria flowing through his body.

paul lahote never wanted to imprint on anyone, especially not on the one girl he couldn’t seem to protect, not even from herself. but in that moment, nothing else mattered except for the fact that y/n was standing chest to chest with him, and she was staring into his eyes. nothing else mattered; not her anger towards him, her disease, his feelings of helplessness, his fear of rejection.

‘you can’t run away from your problems, paul.’

“do you believe in soulmates, y/n?” he asked breathily.

“what?” she asked; her breath billowed out of her chapped lips and hung visibly in the cool september air, thick, like cigarette smoke.

he took a deep breath; it was now or never.

‘you can’t run away from your problems, paul.’

“y/n, there’s something i have to tell you-”

she was the first to break eye contact with him, her pupils dilated suddenly, and her eyes fluttered shut. she managed to grip onto his bicep lightly as she collapsed, but her hand turned limp and rolled gently onto the sand as she lay unconscious in his arms.

***

“clear!” carlisle hollered.

paul reluctantly dropped y/n’s hand as carlisle pressed the paddles to her chest and sent two hundred volts of electricity searing through her lifeless body.

he frowned at the consistent flatline on the monitor, “push ten of epi and charge again,” he ordered the nurse, resuming chest compressions as he waited for the next round of medication to be administered.

paul grabbed her hand again while he had the chance, she was already turning cold. the blood had drained from her face, and paul couldn’t focus on her heartbeat to calm him because she no longer had one.

“clear!”

they repeated the routine they had been performing for the last several minutes; paul let go of her hand, carlisle shocked her, the flatline remained.

the nurse shook her head, “asystole,” she said flatly.

“what does that mean?” paul asked frantically, he looked between carlisle and y/n, “why aren’t you helping her?”

carlisle retrieved a neuro torch from the pocket of his lab coat, peeling back y/n’s eyelids he shone the light over each of her eyes, “pupil’s are fixed and dilated,” he said to the nurse.

“why are you stopping? fix her!” paul wailed.

“i’m sorry paul, there’s nothing else we can do for her,” he said softly, “time of death, 19.08.”

the nurse nodded and made a note on y/n’s chart before exiting the trauma room, leaving just paul, sam, and carlisle in the room with y/n’s lifeless body.

paul didn’t cry, or scream, or phase into a giant wolf. he stood by y/n’s bedside, clutching her hand in his and staring straight ahead at the monitor she was attached to. it continued to let out a continuous, monotone beep. sam, who was just waiting for paul to explode, placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder; paul didn’t have the energy to push him away.

“bring her back,” he croaked.

carlisle looked between paul and sam, “i am very sorry for your loss, paul, but there is nothing else i can do, she’s gone-”

“well bring her back!” he roared, falling to his knees as he continued to clutch y/n’s hand, “you fix her, you bring her back, you change her i don’t care-”

“you know i can’t do that-”

“yes, you can. you’ve done it before, change her i don’t care if she’s a vampire just bring her back,” he sobbed.

“paul, we can’t violate the treaty,” sam barked.

“i don’t give a fuck about the treaty,” he turned his head to snarl at sam, “bring her back right now doc or i swear to god i will-”

“i am very sorry paul, but even if i wanted to change her i couldn’t, it’s too late. there are some things even venom can’t fix, even if i tried the venom wouldn’t be able to circulate her body without a heartbeat.”

paul rose from his knees and dropped y/n’s hand. he was robotic as he began chest compressions, despite protests from carlisle. sam tried to pull paul’s arms away from y/n, but he shoved him off roughly and continued to rhythmically administer cpr.

“paul, you need to stop,” carlisle said, “she’s gone – that isn’t going to help her.”

he ignored him.

‘you can’t run away from your problems, paul’.

he wasn’t running anymore.

for once in his life paul was facing his problem head on.

he wasn’t running anymore.

he was doing what everyone always wanted, and yet sam and carlisle were trying to stop him.

‘you can’t run away from your problems, paul.’

sam and carlisle winced as there was an audible crack.

“you’re breaking her ribs, paul,” carlisle said, attempting to remove paul’s hands from y/n’s body but he flinched away from the vampire’s icy touch.

carlisle looked at sam pleadingly; sam nodded briefly at him before reaching forward and attempting to drag paul away from y/n’s body. he resisted, struggling against sam’s grip as he maintained the rhythmic compressions. his vision blurred in front of him, refusing to take on the scene before him.

he never got a chance to tell her about the imprint.

‘you can’t run away from your problems, paul.’

she never regained consciousness after she collapsed.

‘you can’t run away from your problems, paul.’

he never got to say goodbye.

‘you can’t run away from your problems, paul.’

he never got to tell her he loved her.

‘you can’t run away from your problems, paul.’

sam was dragging him backwards, away from y/n; his rigid grip kept paul’s arms pinned to his sides and stopped him from reaching out to cling to y/n.

paul couldn’t breathe.

everything was spinning.

the harsh, fluorescent hospital lights burned his watery eyes; he wanted nothing more than to sink down into darkness till he could awake from this nightmare.

y/n couldn’t be dead.

‘you can’t run away from your problems, paul.’

“someone will need to contact her family, they will need to make arrangements,” carlisle commented quietly, “ i will call them myself if you give me the number.”

“this is my fault,” paul choked out.

“what?”

“it’s my fault,” his voice caught in his throat, “i let her slowly kill herself because i didn’t want her shut me out.”

“y/n was sick for a long time paul-” carlisle began.

“and i could’ve fixed her, but i was too selfish to let her go and now she’s gone forever.”

his knuckles turned white as he gripped the metal pole that ran along the side of y/n’s bed, he couldn’t bring himself to look at her body.

sam placed a hand on his shoulder, “there’s nothing you could’ve done paul, you already did everything you could for her - you can’t love someone back together.”

“what if it was emily?” paul snarled, “would you be so calm and condescending if it was your imprint lying dead in front of you?”

paul’s heart pounded in his chest, he was still unable to look at her. he wanted to remember her alive and breathing, not like this.

‘you can’t run away from your problems, paul.’

“if you’ll excuse me, i should get started on some paperwork,” carlisle said quietly.

‘you can’t run away from your problems, paul.’

paul lahote never wanted to imprint on anyone, but especially not on the one girl he couldn’t seem to protect, not even from herself.

“c’mon paul, you should get out of here.”

‘you can’t run away from your problems, paul.’

his eyes flickered up, and the sight of y/n’s corpse sent acidic vomit bubbling up his throat and into his mouth. he turned sharply on his heel and choked out his stomach contents into a bin in the corner.

after he composed himself paul did what he did best.

he ran.

#paul lahote #paul lahote x reader #twilight #twilight imagine #twilight wolf pack #sam uley #emily young #paul lahote imagine #angst #hurt and comfort

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2jaeh · 4 years

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SESSIONS | LUCAS WONG

genre: fluff, mature themes,

warnings: suggestive grinding, groping

Words: 1,5k

You’re WayVs assistant and you’re incredibly whipped for their charismatic rapper after he stole a steamy kiss from you a year ago.

——————————————————————————

You went through your schedule frantically, realizing that you needed to be somewhere right now. Most of of the staff rooms were empty and you couldn’t find any of the NCT boys anywhere. Being an assistant manager for WayV at SM seemed like a dream job but why have the past couple of months been literal hell ?

SM had hired you to watch over the WayV unit during the resonance promotions seeing as you were the most capable at mandarin than the rest of the assistants, and frankly the only one who hadn’t complained about their recklessness or the farm that was developing at their dorm.

The only issue with being assigned to WayV right now was an attachment to one of the members you wish you’d forgotten. Wong Yukhei, or better known by his stage name Lucas. Ever since you laid eyes on him you felt giddy, like a school girl going through her first crush.

Lucas was so nice to you from the very beginning. He made you comfortable enough to joke around them and always treated you like a friend rather than an employee. The problem though started at SM’s Christmas party a year back.

“Y/n what are you doing here ?” He said, that familiar grin spread across his face as he approached you.

“Hey-y I’m just getting some fresh air” you had responded shyly, leaning against the wall as his huge frame stood in front of you.

You couldn’t remember much of how the rest of the conversation went but you do remember at some point Lucas had pinned you against the wall and kissed you. You remembered his large hands grope your thighs as he groaned into the kiss, whispering sweet nothings into your ear. He smelled like tequila and his usual Tom Ford cologne, having him that close was intoxicating. You also remembered when it came to an end, his band mate Yangyang had shouted for him, and Lucas’s last words to you that night was “let me know if you wanna do that again sometime.”

After that night he moved on like nothing happened. It’s not like he didn’t talk to you but he had completely erased that you two had shared an intimate moment together. You hated that after that night your feelings for him had only escalated and unfortunately you couldn’t do anything about that.

You dragged your feet across the floor as you made your way over to the recording studio as that’s where your schedule needed you to be right now. WayV was recording their individual track for the resonance album and you had to make sure all their needs during recording were met.

Opening the door you were greeted by WinWin and Xiaojun, WinWin in the booth and Xiaojun on the couch memorizing his lines.

You playfully nudged him as you took your seat, “you need any snacks or water ?”

“I’m good thanks, the producer just got us drinks too” Xiaojun smiled sweetly.

You nodded and slumped into the couch as he now took his turn and WinWin waved you a goodbye before leaving the studio. Something in you hoped that you missed Lucas’s recording, but a little part of you didn’t.

You got your answer pretty soon when the door flung open and Lucas walked in, sporting a simple black tank top and jeans. His hair was pushed out of his face and he wore clear spectacles. He was effortlessly hot and he knew it.

You had no idea how long you were checking him out but Lucas had noticed and waved his hand in front of your face.

“Hey you” he giggled and awaited a high 5 from you.

You pressed your lips together and hi5ed him, hating that he was still so nice instead of being a dick about the whole situation. Lucas was cocky but not in the way where he would’ve boasted about kissing you or mocked your little crush on him. But it still hurt how normal he was. It hurt so much.

“Alright Lucas we’ll take it from your verse” the producer said as Lucas stepped into the booth and placed the headphones on his head.

He sucked in his lip as his eyebrows knitted together, reading the words before nodding his head to the music that began to fade in.

You knew about their song Nectar. The words, the innuendos, the whole message behind it and it didn’t surprise you that the boys were quite excited to perform this song.

Lucas was his usual playful self, dancing along to the beat and just having fun with the recording. You unconsciously bit down on your lip as Lucas lifted up his shirt in order to feel the cool breeze of the a/c, still dancing along to the beat.

“Great stuff man, hey I’m gonna go meet with the main producers real quick I’ll be back in an hour or so” the producer turned back to you and you nodded.

Suddenly there was an uncomfortable tension in the air as Lucas emerged from the booth and grabbed a bottle of water from the coffee table. You watched as he downed the whole bottle, the veins in his neck became prominent as he swallowed.

You diverted your attention to your phone, hoping he didn’t catch you staring or notice your reddened ears.

“What did you think ?” Lucas asked as he took a seat on the coffee table in front of you, wiping away the small beads of sweat from his forehead.

You looked up at him, “of what...?”

“My recording, stupid” he chuckled and playfully knocked his knee against yours.

“Oh it was good” you replied shyly, his eyes were practically burning into yours as he talked.

Lucas sat back placing his hands behind him for support and spread his legs as he cocked his head to the side.

“I thought you liked me...is it just good?”

“Huh w-what I don’t like you...what” you were a stuttering mess as you tried to compose yourself.

Lucas laughed loud and ran his fingers through his hair, “you’re so cute oh my God it’s insane you know that ?”

You kept quiet, afraid to make yourself look stupid in front of him again when you felt him lean in and place his index finger under your chin, lifting it to meet his gaze once more.

“Those innocent eyes drive me crazy, just like that night we...were together. You remember ?” He licked his bottom lip.

“Y-yeah I do” you murmured placing your hands in your lap and twirled your rings nervously.

“I was waiting for you to let me know when you wanted to do that again and you never did” Lucas pouted and stroked your cheek, “you don’t like me ?”

“No that’s not it!” You blurted and he chuckled. You sighed and swallowed hard, “I do like you Lucas but you just kinda ignored me after so I thought you didn’t like me...”

Lucas’s eyes widened and his lips curled into a smile as he his hands moved to your lap and laced his fingers with yours.

“I clearly remembered telling you to let me know if you wanted to, I thought me kissing you was enough to let you know how I felt about you y/n” Lucas sighed, “when you didn’t respond after I assumed you weren’t into it.”

You groaned loudly and playfully shoved him, “well next time be more clear will you ?!”

Lucas grabbed your face and pulled you into a passionate kiss, quickly dominating it and cheekily bit on your bottom lip before pulling away.

“Is that clear enough for you ?” He said lowly as his hands moved to your sides and drew circles on your hips.

“I meant be more vocal Lucas” you rolled your eyes yet still flushed from his incredible kiss.

Lucas moved from the coffee table to the couch and in one Swift movement he had you on his lap, straddling him.

He laid his head back as he looked at you through hooded eyes and wet his bottom lip with his tongue.

“Vocal huh ?” He mused.

You tried your best not to move on top of him, the last thing you wanted was to get a tiny taste of friction and going all the way in your workplace studio.

“I don’t want to be just a fuck buddy if that’s what you’re into...”

“Now where the hell did I say that damn y/n what do you think of me?” Lucas chuckled and fake cried into his hands.

“I’m sorry I just wanted to put it out there” you bit down on your lip and played with the material of his shirt.

“I want more, Ofcourse I want more” Lucas groaned and pulled you closer, “you know Johnny hyung told me you’re out of my league”

“I-I’m out of y-your league ?”

“I mean he’s kinda right though, you’re perfect I’m sure any of the guys were waiting to get to you” Lucas pouted and placed a soft peck on your neck.

“Well I only want you...” you mumbled not noticing Lucas’s eyes brighten, all you felt was him bear hugging you and placed butterfly kisses all over your face and neck.

“Good!” Lucas grinned before his eyes became dark again, “so now that I’m vocal, I want to hear a different type of vocal from you y/n.”

#lucas wong #nct lucas #wayv lucas #yukhei angst #yukhei fluff #wong yukhei #lucas smut #wayv smut #wayv scenario #wayv imagines #wayv angst #nct scenarios #nct reactions #wayv reactions

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ktheist · 4 years

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1 | play me like a toy [m]

title inspired by blackpink’s sure thing cover.

⟶ read the last part, all yours to enjoy, here.

muses. mafia heiress!reader x ex-mafia!director!hoseok

genre. age gap factor. chaebol-mafia family au. arranged marriage au. office au. modern au.

words. 5.8k

warnings. contains smut. mentions of gun use. mentions of cheating.

verse. knj. ksj. myg. kth. pjm. jjk. jhs.

synopsis.

sit still, look pretty.

such were the words your maid-turned-mistress of a mother has ever taught you. the mindless marionette mask worked for the most parts. but when you find yourself hanging by a thread - or is it the beeping line of your dying father’s heart rate monitor? - you decide it’s time to shed off that mask and seek han group’s infamous loyal dog that went off radar 17 years ago.

jung hoseok.

alternatively;

“marry me or be killed.”

“is there a third option?”

“we fucked but you were too drunk to remember so that option’s invalid.”

jung hoseok is in a dry spell.

there was no doubt as to whether he could score a date, get laid and maybe even have his nightstand to call him up again exactly the week after.

the issue was time.

with his boss and longtime friend getting married, he ends up coming to work with a different pile of papers on his desk every day. well, it was his idea to sign a promissory note that if kim namjoon ever found a woman he loved and married, hoseok would take half of the ceo-ly workload so his overbearing boss could enjoy his honeymoon and truly, as hoseok would put it, live.

the order went a little differently but namjoon found a hole in the way the sentences were worded that got him flying away to the caribbean and leaving hoseok to fend for himself in these trying times.

oh, and it’s almost hit the third month of the newly weds going mia.

in the first place, he didn’t think namjoon would hold the agreement over his head like he was flexing a few hundred thousand dollar’s worth of lawsuit.

but the man did just that and now hoseok is slaving over his nine-to-five which actually tend to drag on till ten or, if he’s lucky, even midnight. sure, he got promoted from head secretary to director but he’s wondering if this endless cycle of coming back home only pass out in the bed and wake up earlier than a parent with a toddler - is worth it.

hoseok groans, his hand grabbing around for his phone to put a stop on that obnoxious alarm even if it’s just for five minutes before he has to hear it again.

and grab something he did, but this so called phone feels too soft to be a phone and shapes like an cup but softer and - he puts more pressure to his grasp out of confusion -

“mhm, what the hell?”

- it complains in a groggy voice too.

almost as if pricked by a needle, hoseok leaps right out of bed, sending the duvet flying to the floor and revealing the naked woman - you - who’s stretching her limbs whilst her face scrunches in displeasure at the rude awakening.

“__-___?! wh-what the- what are you doing in my bed?”

“so you touched my boob,” you say, legs crossed and arms folded over said boob.

“i-i-” it’s the first time you’ve ever seen hoseok opened his eyes so wide - he has pretty eyes. especially when they’re brimming with fear and bashfulness, “i’m sorry, i have no excuse.”

he hangs his head low.

“why didn’t you touch the other one?”

it’s then, when hoseok’s eyes snap up to you, gaze searching for a sign - any sign, to confirm that he misheard that, does the man realize that you’re messing with him.

that, and you doubling over with laughter trickling out of your mouth should be affirmation enough.

“god, you should’ve seen your face, hobi!” you’re still holding your stomach when hoseok’s shoulders stiffen and his round eyes turn sharp.

“that’s not something you joke about, ___,” he says, it’s easy to mistake his sternness with anger if you didn’t know him your whole life, “are you gonna let it go every time someone disrespects you? mr. han would’ve snapped their neck in half-”

“hoseok, come on,” you cut him off with a dismissive hand, “none of those gory talks about snapping necks and pulling out nails. that’s the reason i end up here in the first place.”

it’s the way silence lulls into the room and hoseok looks at you with the hardest knitted brows and eyes that seem to have retracted his soul far back into his memories, as though searching for something - that makes your heart drop.

all sense of humor now gone.

“you don’t remember what happened last night... do you?” the last part is just an addition to ease your throbbing heart.

if you’d left it as a statement, it made it more real that he did forget.

just a man, sitting at a half empty bar, three shots of vodka in and hostility in his voice that could’ve killed but so very hoseok of him, “that seat’s taken.”

aloof. distant. and every word in the book that described a man who didn’t want to be bothered and he drowned himself in alcohol.

“i’ll leave once the owner comes back,” you’d slipped into the seat anyway, despite the heat of hoseok’s stare.

not paying any heed, you ordered yourself a margarita.

“it’s been awhile, hasn’t it, hobi?”

that’s when he turned to you. truly looked at you.

“do you perhaps have a little sister who,” his eyebrows began to knit as if the screws in his head started turning, “would be about your age by now... ____?”

you didn’t really catch up. all you could remember was hoseok’s calculative stare as he watched you down one drink after the other. the the chilliness of the margarita somewhat soothing the burning sensation as it went down your throat.

“that’s the fifth for you,” his large hand covered yours, stopping you from picking up the glass as he cautioned you.

“yeah? i’m only stopping if i have something else to occupy my mouth with.”

in his distracted state as he tried to make sense of what your words meant, you lifted the glass to your mouth and downed the last of your drink.

and then, you stood up, walked the tiniest distance between your seat and his, grabbed him by the collar and crashed your lips on his.

you remembered your confidence dissipating like air with every second passing without hoseok so much as responding to your kiss.

maybe it was the shock.

because one that passed, you found his arm around your waist and his lips kissing you harder than you kissed him.

you stumbled into your car, not caring if yeojun had a front row view from the rearview mirror of the things that transpired at the back seat. you barely remember the walk from the parking lot to his apartment.

those sweet whispered promises. the hands that burned your skin with every touch. those eyes that pierced right into your eyes, as if invisible hands reached into your soul and grasped it in his palm.

“mine,” hoseok husked, voice sending ripples of pleasure dripping down your legs. he’d thrust himself balls deep inside you, like a beast who hadn’t had a drop of water since the drought, “you’re mine from head to toe.”

if that wasn’t enough, he fucked you raw until you were at your limit and he’d just... stop.

“hoseok, why-” you’d been breathless, skin glistening with sweat and knees trembling to give in but he’d banded an arm under your torso and held you to him so your bodies remained connected even if none of you moved.

“you think i’d just let you cum so easily?” he placed a hand on your ass, as if warning you what would happen if you’d pull away, “after all these years... you grew up fine as fuck.”

he’d languidly pulled out of you, as if knowing how torturous it felt for you with his fingers on your clit that sent electricity through your veins.

“what is it, hm? is it the kang’s or is it the seong’s? i guess the rumor about boss being hospitalized was true,” his words barely registered in your mind as his index finger touched your back and traced down your spine whilst he started thrusting in and out of you agonizingly slow.

“please, just fuck me,” you’d hissed, pain and pleasure and frustrations mixed in your voice.

“hm, still as tight-lipped as ever, huh?” he’d sounded completely relaxed as if the smacking sound that echoed in the air as his body slammed against your deliciously - didn’t affect him in the slightest.

as if he took no pleasure in fucking you. as if this was only for your poor little soul that came running back to him because you had no one to depend on.

“y-you have to- ah! s-swear your l-loyalty to- oh my god,” it was last night, while the citylights poured through hoseok’s window, his room was directly across another apartment building.

“loyalty, huh?” he tested the words on his mouth, as if it was a foreign candy gifted to him as present.

his body feels hot against your back as he lowered himself flush against you, his breath fanning your sweat-glistened skin, his voice brushing the shell of your ear, “you should know i’m yours as much as you’re mine. nothing i wouldn’t do for you, kiddo.”

he’d used that nickname he’d used to call you as he fucked you into his bed, and sent you moaning his name like you wouldn’t know any other name.

anyone could’ve seen.

neither of you cared though.

well-

you throw your gaze out at the twenty storey building, noticing a man vacuuming the living room three units to the left from the unit directly across from hoseok’s. above him, two kids, a boy and a girl are jumping around while holding an airplane in their hands.

-until now, that is.

hoseok had become an entirely different person last night. no - rather, he’d returned to you as the man you’d always kept in that special spot in your heart and locked it up so no one would be able to see past your steel schooled expression and the devil may care nature.

“i...”

your gaze snaps back to hoseok once again. he parts his lips for the briefest moment, as if to say something but clamps them shut again. the way his eyes gleam with guilt is enough to tell you the unspoken words that hang in the air.

and yet, your heart hardens like the steel mask you often wear on your face.

“and... to think i gave you my virginity too...”

the silence that lapses between you is tangible.

“sike, i’m kidding,” you grin, brows rising to the ceiling but when hoseok doesn’t so much as laugh or frown - he simply looked at you like a parent disappointed of his child who still didn’t see why what she did was wrong - you tilt your head to the side slightly, “or am i?”

“ugh, you’re no fun,” you throw your head back after failing to gouge a reaction from the man who screamed bloody murder as if you’re some street rat that he was so close to calling infestation control.

“i need to meet mr. han,” he announces after a whole solid minute of sitting on the edge of the bed with feet planted on the floor.

“what for? what are you gonna tell daddy? ‘i’m sorry i took your daughter’s virginity, sir, it won’t happen again?’“ you watch him get up, tongue unconsciously slipping out and sweeping over your bottom lip as you watch the curve of his ass as he walks to the closet and disappears into it.

“were you really a virgin?” he comes out dressed in fresh crisp button down tucked in a pair of black pants, a contrast to his rolled up sleeves, creased shirt and disheveled hair from last night.

“i don’t know, did it feel like i was?” you shoot him a coquettish smile.

the gentle protrusion of his adam’s apple bobs up and down, his lingering gaze on your crossed, bare legs not going unnoticed by you. you’re donned in last night’s dinner dress that hugs your curves and stops mid thighs.

but his gaze is gone too soon.

“you’re not seriously going to daddy, are you?” you tug on his sleeve just before he steps out of the door, “hobi, i’m just kidding, i’ve been with multiple guys before you,” the way his brows threaten to knit into a frown doesn’t go pass you but it’s gone too soon, “and does daddy like the idea? he’s not fond of it, but he knows he can’t stop me from doing whatever i want with my own body.”

the beep of the door as he opens it rings in the air as he looks at you in the eye, “did any of those men work for mr han?”

only silence follows his reply as you bite your lower lip, hesitant.

“we can’t hide this- mr han might already know. he has eyes and ears-” hoseok steps out of the door only to stop dead in track when he sees at least half a dozen men lined up in front of his apartment in black suits.

“good morning, miss ____.” they bow at exactly 90 degrees angle like robots.

“-everywhere...” hoseok trails off, eyes scanning the area on high alert.

“don’t worry, they’re not daddy’s men. they’re my men,” you raise one hand, index finger pointing to the ceiling as you shoot them an expression void of any smile.

they seem to understand that as they dip into a bow again, the leader, yeojun, stops in front of the elevator when he and his men would have joined you in any other circumstances.

“it’s not about saving my own ass, ___,” hoseok begins.

the way his arms cross over his chest makes his sleeves wrap deliciously around his biceps.

his deep brown eyes appear like a hazel storm under the sunlight that pours from every crevice of the parking lot where the elevator stopped at. “mr. han asked me to protect you from everything and i’m sure he hired someone else after i left to keep trash men away from you... and to think i did exactly what he wanted me to protected you from-”

“hobi,” nimble hands hover over his chest before you gaze up at him through your lashes, making sure to give it a slow, innocent blink before speaking, “i didn’t regret what happened last night. and you trying to apologize for someone i’m not sorry kind of hurts.”

“i’m sorry i didn’t think of it that way...” he trails off, lips pressed in a straight line as though deep in thought.

“if it makes you that uncomfortable, i won’t talk about it but promise me this stays between us, please?” you hold up a pinky finger like you would when you were younger.

the smile that makes its way to hoseok lips causes your heart to palpitate just when it’s barely calmed down.

his pinky finger is much larger than yours as it hooks around yours in a promise, a ghost of a smile tugging on his lips. as if he’s still unsure if he should be making any promises. as if he’s unsure if he should be hooking his pinky with yours instead of pushing you as far away from him as he could. but before he can come to a conclusion, a voice reverberates into the air.

“miss ____.”

the sound of hoseok sucking in a sharp breath rings in your ear as a dozen men in black suits bow at the sight of you.

before another word comes out from anyone else, you speak, voice echoing against the walls.

“listen up you sons of bitches, if i find out any of you snitched to daddy, i’ll make sure your wife, your husband, your kids, your grandparents, hell even your neighbors pay for it. got it?”

a round of rigorous “yes, miss!” follows after the splitting silence that hovered after you finished.

turning around, almost getting lost in those pretty, star entrapped eyes of his, you smile, “see, they’re loyal to me.”

“uh, i can see why.” it’s the humorous tone that finally wraps around hoseok’s words that makes your heart clench painfully.

he’s still the same hoseok you know.

some things never change.

“well, i’ll lend you one of my cars,” you say all of a sudden.

almost as if hit by a foul ball, hoseok’s eyes widen, “shi- what time is it?”

you don’t expect much when you check your phone, the digits on the screen staring back with a 9-something am - you don’t care to check the details, “late.”

“fuck, i was so focused on gathering enough balls to meet mr. han - i need to get the papers i was supposed to look over for today’s meeting,” a string of curses follow hoseok’s scampering retreat. and you simply watch in your spot - he’s always been such a klutz, forgetting the important details and scrambling to get what he’d forgotten and just remembered - done.

before the doors of the elevator close and swallow him in its belly, hoseok’s nimble fingers slip between the shutting gap, making the doors split open again, “oh,” he says, as if remembering something, “you don’t have to do that - i can drive, i got a driver’s license like, eons ago.”

right.

when he left, he was only 18 and had nothing more but a duffle bag filled with all his belongings and an acceptance letter of the university he applied to.

hoseok had been driving you around everywhere before that. he got pulled over by a cop once but your father easily handled that.

jung hoseok’s been with you for as long as you remember.

you recall bawling your eyes out and clinging onto his leg, begging him not to leave because your nanny left and you found out a few months later that her body was found washed up along the river bank near her hometown.

mr. kim, the gardener quit and said he wanted to visit his kids but the whole family ended up dying in a fire.

everyone who left ends up dead.

pushing the somber feeling that’s threatening to pull the muscles in your face into a frown, you shake your head, an amused smirk tugging on your lips as you mask away every other feeling.

“you really don’t remember anything, do you?” somewhere in that innocently clueless gaze of his, you search for a lie - it would’ve been better if he lied about forgetting for whatever reason.

but when the genuinity over pours from those pretty eyes, you push away the gnawing feeling in your heart, “we were both shit faced drunk last night so we came to your place with my driver and you left your car at the bar’s parking lot.”

“oh shit,” he begins punching the button on the inside of the elevator, “i won’t take long, i pro-”

the metal doors gradually shut, cutting off what he was about to say.

“p-please, i’m sorry, i’ll do anything...” the man’s words got blurred out as you stare out the window of his medium sized flat with a master bedroom, a room and a bathroom connected to the common area.

it’s been a week since you met hoseok. you want to be mad that he doesn’t call, especially after not seeing each other for so long and finally reuniting only for him to forget everything about that night.

but you didn’t even give him your number and you may or may not be mad that he didn’t think to ask.

a bloodcurdling scream drums against your eardrums, making you physically flinch as your head snaps towards the man lying on the ground with his mouth wide open and no longer any sound coming out.

his head is titled at the new guy who’s standing over him with a baton gripped in one hand. the sight itself makes the pit of your stomach churn.

“god fucking damn it, yeojun,” you shoot a glare at the head bodyguard, “didn’t you teach him rule number 1? make no sound, catch no attention?”

at that, yeojun snaps his fingers and two of the bodyguards closest to the new guy - soon? soobin? was his name? - approach him. one of them places a firm hand on his shoulder whilst he kicks soobin behind his knee, sending him kneeling with a thud.

“i’m sorry, miss ___, it seems soobin,” ah so you did get his name right, “needs to join mr. yoo here in learning a thing or two about obeying orders.”

yeojun doesn’t even flinch when one of your donned-in-black bodyguard strikes one of their own at the back of his head with that baton they usually carry around their waist.

soobin’s face scrunches up painfully as he breathes out through his nose, teeth gritting together.

“you boys, break some things and you, get the car ready,” with that, the bodyguards hovering over the middle-aged borrower and soobin begin scampering around, toppling shelves over, pushing vases to the ground and breaking plates in the kitchen.

“you were too nice,” yeojun murmurs underneath his breath once you’re in the hallway, the sound of glass shattering and furniture breaking still echo off the walls.

“i shouldn’t even be doing this shit anyway. who does he think i am? sending me to take care of small fries...” agitated, you shoot yeojun a glare.

to which he only responds with raised eyebrows, as if asking if you’d go against your brother’s orders just because you’ve never liked to see violence yet violence follows you everywhere.

“let’s see.... richest bachelor, heir to han group, one of the biggest conglomerate family that runs the underground ring...” the black haired man starts counting off with his finger until you swing your purse to his side.

“which side are you on? me or my chanyeol’s?!”

laughter trickles down his lips as he follows you into the elevator. somewhere in the distance, the hallway faintly rings with the fading sound of mr. yoo’s helpless pleas.

when you arrive at kimcorp, the secretary shoots up from your seat, her smile is gorgeous and welcoming but the knitted set of brows above her eyes do a poor job of hiding her anxiousness.

odd.

you didn’t use the han name to get past the receptionist, only mentioning “hoseok is expecting me, tell him i have something of his he’d really like back.”

was it the lavish dinner dress? was it the couture handbag?

“ah, it’s the fox fur, isn’t it?” you twirl on your heels, lips curling prettily as you narrow your eyes at the startled secretary.

she’s standing there like a thief caught red-handed. as if her worst nightmares came true the moment you started saying something besides the “i’m here to see jung hoseok.”

“i-i’m sorry, ma’am?” her shoulders tense up and her smile doesn’t quite reach her eyes.

“nothing, it’s nothing,” you put on a billion dollar smile - one that she seems to be struggling to wear.

before the poor thing peed her pants, you turn around, your back on her and push on the double doors of the office with a white plate that spells out “head director jung.”

the syllables of your name roll off the mouth of the man behind the large desk that almost takes up half of the room, piles of documents stacked up on either sides while the middle section is cleared for a mac and a macbook perched directly in front of him.

“you sound surprised, didn’t the receptionist tell you i was coming?” you put on your best smile even as you watch him push a button on a smaller-than-a-palm-sized remote directed at the cctv and dash for the blinds and close them so that the secretaries facing his room won’t have any visual access to what goes on from now on.

“yeji didn’t specify who,” he says mindlessly, still peeking through the blinds - possibly to check if anyone noticed the sudden move.

somehow, hearing the name of another woman leaving hoseok’s lips doesn’t sit right with you.

“since you easily told her to send me right up, i assume you have an idea of who it was,” a devious smile tugs in the corners of your lips as the sound of hoseok sucking in a sharp breath brushes your ears.

as he was in the middle of turning around and facing you, you managed to catch him off guard and trap him between the window and yourself. the ridges of his toned abs brushing against your front torso with only layers of clothing separating you.

the warning tone he uses to say your name with is music to your ears.

he sounded like the old him. the old hoseok who’d drive his fist into anyone’s face without batting an eye. the old hoseok who would turn to your crying frame with the sweetest smile and hand you back your backpack that fell on the ground amidst the struggle of trying to bite and kick your kidnappers in the shin.

“i missed you, you know?” your voice is tinged with playfulness but your heart skips a beat like a schoolgirl with a crush.

“i-i... we...”

the words get stuck in his throat the moment your lips brush his. what surprises you is the softest sigh that leaves his mouth before a large hand buries itself in your hair, pulling you close until he’s tasting you. licking your bottom lip as if asking for something he didn’t need to ask for in the first place.

his free hand grasps your ass as if he’s been dying to feel your soft cheeks in his palm. you part your lips for him, tasting the faintest sense of cigarette in his breath.

hoseok tends to smoke when something bothers.

you hope it’s you. you hope he lays in bed at night, staring at the ceiling. you hope you’re all he thinks about.

by the time you pull apart, you’re both heaving for air. a soft thud drums in your ears as hoseok leans his head against the blinds-covered-window. you press your cheek against his chest, face hot.

one of his hands sits on top of your ass as if paying his overdue respect for your body but yet unwilling to let you go. the other rests on the back of your head, his thumb mindlessly caressing your scalp.

“hoseok?” you’re the first to break the silence.

he simply hums in response, “hm?”

“i can’t give it back,” you turn your cheek to bury your face in his chest, your voice coming out muffled, “i can’t give back your freedom.”

“so you’re saying you can’t let me go...” hoseok echoes the words you say to him.

but the way his lips curl into a pleased smirk and his white shirt creasing at the front from having your bodies pressed together a moment ago, gives those words a different meaning than you intend them to.

somehow, the distance between you seems smaller.

“thanks miyeon,” hoseok’s smile switches to that of a kind, considerate superior.

miyeon, the woman who guided you to hoseok’s office returns his smile. but you don’t miss the cautious gaze she throws your way before slipping out of the room after setting down the tea cups.

he’s back to himself. the kind that jumps at every little sound and tends to wear a frightened puppy look almost too often.

“no, rather...” you trail off, chanyeol’s face burning at the back of your mind - your brother, the heir to han group and the man that will marry you off to the kang’s in order to mend the strain in the family ties as soon as your father breathes out his last breath.

you shake your head, a smile on your face, “it’s been awhile, how bout catching up over lunch?”

and so it goes, you visit hoseok every few days in a week. at times you tell the secretary to keep your visit a secret so you could surprise him, you’d end up catching him neck deep in work yet he still manages to pull off the rolled up sleeves, two buttons undone and slicked back hair with a single strand falling over his forehead, its tip grazing those set of strong eyebrows.

when you knock, he looks up and the tension in his brows seem to fade away. he shoots you a dimpled smile as if he’s been waiting for you to whisk him away from work.

and you do just that. arm looped around his, you both walk out of his office like lovers.

hoseok talks about his past - the one you’re not part of - fondly. as if looking through a lense of something he never dreamed he could have.

at first, he attracted the wrong kind of crowd with his permanently set furrowed brows. but then he finds things he enjoys doing outside of classes that he couldn’t get to enjoy when he was with han group.

dancing, tracks, boxing and more. he likes that rush of adrenaline that courses through his veins.

and you tell him about the meetings and gatherings and social events to maintain your relationships with the vassal families. they’re usually attended by the women of the han family which means you and han chohee would be smiling and laughing together in front of the wives and daughters of the vassal families before taking off that loving step-mother-and-step-daughter facade once you walk out of the vicinity.

your lunches and dinners are spent with trips down memory lane, filling the other in on the moments each of you miss in each other’s lives. and for a moment, the hoseok in front of you who flinches at the sight of bugs and little, random noises feel familiar.

that is, until you hit your one month reunion mark.

chanyeol’s been gathering support of the vassals by personally accepting their invitations.

his presence easily overshadowed yours and yeojun confirmed that your father’s condition isn’t getting any better.

“i need you to come back and work for me, half of the men would drop everything and follow you,” you stare at the girl staring back at you on the surface of the tea. she bites her lips and you feel the faintest taste of blood in your mouth.

eyes snapping to his calculative ones - as if he already knows what you’re going to say before the words even pass your lips, “i need you by my side so i can take over han group.”

the hoseok sitting in the single couch next to you with parted legs and feet planted on the dark carpeted ground fits the head director setting better than the inked skin, cigarette smoke and gun-in-waistline setting you’re about to drag him in.

“you’re willing to go against chanyeol to become the head of the family?” he asks, eyes clouded with a sort of emotion you can’t pinpoint.

hoseok’s always been an enigma. his mind, a maze you’ll never end up figuring out.

guess that part of him is still the same.

“it’s not a choice for me to make,” a clean click! resonates in the air as you place the gun you’d pulled from your garter, point facing him, index finger on the trigger, “you have two though.”

it’s the way his eyebrows rise whilst his eyes glint with amusement tells you that hoseok - your hoseok - is still somewhere in there.

throw a sane man into an asylum and he’ll start going insane. put a mad man back in society and he’ll trick you into believing he’s sane with his warm, dimpled smile.

“marry me or be killed,” you say simply.

that amused glint is still there, granted, it shines faintly compared to the caution that overflows from those sun-hit brown eyes as they fix themselves on the gun perched on the see-through coffee table before they travel to your knuckles, to your arm and meet your steel gaze.

his the softest protrusion of his adam’s apple drops and rises again as he swallows, “is there a third option?”

“we fucked but you were too drunk to remember so that option’s invalid.”

the air is dense with tension. it fills up your lungs and almost causes your chest to cave. you’re not sure how long to stay there, stiff and still like a rock with your back straightened as if your etiquette teacher was hovering right behind you with a long, wooden ruler that’d be ready to strike your arm at a slump of your shoulders.

but liberation comes to you in the form of a phone call.

“___, we have to go, th-the boss- the doctor says he’s not gonna make it through the night.” it’s the first time you’ve heard yeojun stammer as if he hasn’t quite yet recovered from the shock of the news he’s relaying to you.

“are you sure?” you can almost hear the thump of the organ in your chest slowing down before it ceases to throb completely, “you know how bad chanyeol wanna fuck me up, he could’ve made the doctor tell you this because he knows you’ll tell me and if... if i rush there and daddy’s laughing that obnoxious laugh while trying to make pass on the nurse like he usually does...”

yeojun grunts, “yes, ___. i have men planted there as patients, nurses, janitors and they all say the same thing - that the doctors are rushing to the vip ward and they’re trying to make it look like your usual hourly check up but it’s not... look, this is the real thing. if we mess up, there won’t be another chance. now, did you convince hoseok to come back?”

almost as if reminded that you’re not the only person in the room, your eyes snap to hoseok whose eyes are already fixed on you with a concerned expression.

“he’ll come back.” with that, you hang up the call.

“i’d love for you to think it through for a few days, realize this isn’t really a life you want and come to me on your own to sign our prenups,” you say casually, placing down the teacup and slipping your phone back into your handbag as if you’re getting ready to leave the tea party, “but...”

but before you can lift the gun and fully point it at him, a large hand covers yours. his warmth seeps through your pores and makes your body feel warmer.

“the gun’s a bit excessive,” his breath fans your face as your eyes fix on the supple skin of his neck.

it’s as if invisible hands reached out and held your head in place, forbidding you from tilting it and gazing into his eyes. his fingers reach over the back of the gun, grazing your hands.

a click cuts through the silence.

“at the very least, unlock the safety,” his teasing tone doesn’t match his saddened eyes.

and just as you thought you’d closed the distance between you and him, the circumstance forces you to take five steps back.

#bts scenarios #bts smut #hoseok smut #hoseok fic #bts fic #bts x you #bts x reader #hoseok x you #hoseok x reader #bts fanfic #hoseok fanfic #hoseok scenarios

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themonotonysyndrome · 3 years

Text

REDACTED verse - Those that stood above the rest

Summary: Everyone in D.A.M.N simp for the power couple at least a little bit - the Vampire Prince of Dahlia and the Electro Energetic. Gavin and the Freelancer would be lying if they said they haven't been watching them... respectfully.

TW: [Swearing], [Profanity], [Explicit implications courtesy of Gavin, of course] & [Oblivious narrators]

Apologies for any grammatical or spelling errors because I wrote this the whole night and only edited it once. I’ll do the editing process again tomorrow morning.

Life as a student in D.A.M.N is nothing like regular colleges or universities. While the environment is hectic with exams, assignments and teachers with sticks up their asses - there's also a hint of craziness thrown into the mix. You can never really predict how your day would go here in the academy, and to most of the students, it's the typical college experience you'll get everywhere. Just... taken to the next level.

That's what you get for a magical academy, after all.

An Air Elemental would accidentally shatter the windows in a classroom with a powerful gust of wind on a random ass Tuesday because she was laughing too hard. A Graviton Energetic would sneeze, and suddenly, the gravity in the music room would stick the instruments on the ceilings. The entire soccer team would fall flat on the grassy field, snoozing because the Serenity Daemon playing as the Goalkeeper uses too much magic to calm their anxious Sweeper during his first play with the team.

With so many Empowered creatures of all kinds attending D.A.M.N, there's never a dull moment. You learned that the moment a loud growl came from the Debate Club on your second week as a student. A Wolf Shifter had gotten into a heated argument with a Vampire about the toppings that should and shouldn't be on a pizza.

So yeah, typical college life with magic thrown into your daily shenanigans.

Today, you can't help but wonder what sort of excitement would occur as the large clock above the lecture hall ticks by, counting down the second before the class is over.

You check the clock and sigh. Just ten more minutes to go, but it feels like time is creeping forward at such a snail-like pace. Tapping your pen on the open notebook laid before you rather irritability, you just want the lecturer to stop yammering already so you can grab lunch at the food truck parked outside of campus.

Something gently knocks against your knuckle. You tilt your head to the side and meet with Damien's unamused stare; it looks like this is the third time he caught you losing focus in class.

"I told you to grab a snack before class started." Damien whispers, mindful to keep his voice even so the lecturer won't catch them chatting. Sadism Daemons are scary when you piss them off, and the way the lecturer's eyes sweep through the students is more than enough to have them all shut the hell up the moment he begins their topic of the day.

"I was meeting up with Lasko and we lost track of time." You hiss back. Yesterday you made a promise to catch up with the Air Elemental before your first class started to organise the date and invitations for the next game night. Once Lasko starts talking about the things he's comfortable with, he loses his stutter and launches into an animated one-sided conversation. You didn't have the heart to stop him, not when he looks so happy and cute.

Buying that Arkham Horror board game was the right purchase to surprise him with.

While your mind replays the morning you spend with Lasko, Damien rolls his eyes. "Of course you did. Here." He pushes his coffee cup towards you. His fingers linger on the cup for a few seconds to make sure that the coffee remains hot enough to drink.

You grab the cup, grateful for his consideration, and take a big swing. The coffee settles pleasantly in your stomach as warmth spreads within your body.

You're more a tea drinker - the classic Early Grey and Gunpowder Green - but at this instance, coffee would hopefully kick your focus back into gear.

"Thanks, Damien." You said before passing the cup back to him. You peeked at his notebook and wasn't surprised to find that it's packed with notes written in different coloured pens. "Hey, want to grab lunch together after this?"

Damien switched the yellow pen for a red one when the lecturer mentioned something about a topic for the upcoming test. You absentmindedly wondered if it's worth your life stealing his notebook. "Sure. What are you in the mood for?" He asked.

Finally, the lecturer dismisses the class. Chatters erupt as students pack up while some scurry over to the podium to ask a few questions.

You lean against your seat to stretch your back; your notebooks and stationery are already in your school backpack. You're just waiting for Damien now. "I'm craving for a burger and some cheesy loaded fries with a boba tea." God, just thinking about it is already enough to make your mouth watered.

Being a health nut, Damien throws you a judgemental look at your food choice as you two made your way towards the main campus entrance. He easily follows your lead through a crowd of students, and Damien even gently pulls you closer to his side when a student whizzes by on her skateboard.

With so many people talking and laughing around you and Damien, you can't help but hear the conversations hovering around you.

"...had class with them yesterday? Dude, you're so lucky! Did you sit beside them!?"

"Are you fucking crazy? No! I sat two rows behind them, but it was enough to smell their perfume. God, they're so gorgeous - I couldn't focus the entire time!"

"I've heard a few players from the Earth Elemental team tried to invite them to their party this weekend, but they were shot down. Apply cold water on burned area."

"Well, duh. You can't just walk up to them like that! They're one of the hottest people in this academy."

"Yeah, but those players are in one of the most well-respected sports teams in all of Dahlia, and even they can't stand a chance against them!"

Students parted ways as you and Damien approached the gates. Rows of food trucks parked across the street with tables and chairs placed about. The conversations tapered off behind you, along with the hubbub of the academy. You have a pretty good idea of whom those students were talking about. It's been a topic surrounding the academy ever since the start of the new academic year.

Even as an introvert who prefers to hover to your few but close group of friends, you couldn't escape the latest academy gossip.

"Finally, I thought my ears would've fallen off before we could escape," Damien mutters. It's a cloudy Wednesday; dark clouds are rolling above them with an occasional burst of strong breeze cutting through. "You'd think they would just give it a rest already."

The food truck you and Damien stop by displays a menu with a wide variety of food and drinks. From burgers to pasta and desserts ranging from ice-creams to Thai banana pancakes, your stomach begins to growl. You place your order in a hurry, whereas Damien selects a hearty sandwich stuffed with juicy and tender slices of slow-smoked beef brisket with veggies of his choice and chipotle mayo in between two crusty loaves with a bottle of water.

You and Damien grab your meals to sit at one of the vacant tables and enjoy lunch together. Good food and good company - what more could you ask for? Well, other than Damien's tsk-ing and wiping the barbecue sauce that smudged the corner of your cheek like the mother hen he constantly denies to be.

"Can't you eat your food properly, Freelancer? You're getting your fingers dirty too. Give me your hand." Damien demanded halfway through his sandwich. You grin impishly and offer your left hand for Damien to wipe with some tissue while the other is holding a burger. The thick sauce begins to drip.

Soon enough, a familiar voice shouts at them from across the street.

"Yo, Damien! Freelancer! Are you guys, like, having lunch? Can I join!?"

You can't help but beam and wave your hand (that was still holding the burger) high up when Huxley crosses over. Damien squawked with eyes wide in horror when the barbecue sauce got all over the table. He hurried to wipe the table clean while you greeted Huxley.

"Hi, Huxley! Are you grabbing lunch too? Take a seat, man!"

"Thanks a bunch, dude. It's been a while since I hung out with you two."

"We literally had a class together two days ago."

"Two days too long, Damien. I miss you guys."

"Aww, that's super sweet of you, Hux!"

"Oh, for the love of - just go buy something already before the next class starts."

Huxley happily gives Damien two thumbs up before grabbing his food and drink. When he returned to their table, he brought a tray of smoothie consisting of kale, spinach, banana, orange, and vanilla blended into green mush in a plastic cup and a plate of vegan quesadillas.

The moment Huxley sat down, you took a sip of his drink and made a face.

"Yeah, I ask them to hold back on the honey because I like the vanilla more," Huxley explains before tucking in. "Oh! But I can ask them to add more honey if you want. That’s like, totally cool."

You quickly shake your head and clean your palate with your sweet boba tea. "It's cool, Hux. Just wanted to try a sip. You're really into these crazy healthy smoothies."

"They're the bomb, dude. My Mums introduced a few recipes to me when I was a kid, and I basically hooked ever since." The Earth Elemental explains after gulping down a good chunk of the green goo.

"Yeah, well, with the calories you burned up during practice, I guess you can't go wrong with smoothies," Damien added thoughtfully. His sandwich is all gone. He props an elbow on the table and cradles his face in one open palm. "Anyway, what's up, Huxley? Anything new happened?"

"Nah, it's been nothing but the same shit lately. Classes, assignments and practices for the upcoming Elemental & Energetic Games - normal stuff. What about you guys?"

"More or less the same." Damien replies, soundly ignoring your "We're hitting the tournament arc!" outburst. "Planning to organise a study group for the upcoming tests. I expect the two of you will be joining, by the way."

At Damien's words, Huxley beams brighter. Any brighter, you'd need a pair of sunglasses. "For real, dude!? You're like, the best friend ever, Damien! C'mere - lemme give you a hug!"

You snicker when despite Damien's frantic protest, Huxley shoot up from his chair and quickly hugs the Fire Elemental tightly before he has the chance to weasel away.

Also, you didn't miss the chance to snap a quick picture of them to show Gavin tonight.

Unaware of your phone, Damien grumbled when Huxley finally released him, and they sat down again. The three of you continue to chat about everything and anything. Soon, the topic shifts from tests to plans for the weekend.

Huxley snapped his fingers when you mentioned Lasko's gaming night and the tabletop game you recently bought for him so they could all play together.

"I totally forgot about the party! A few guys in my team are having a party this Saturday, and I want to invite you guys and Lasko. Oh! Gavin too! It's going to be a blast, and on Sunday, we can play that new board game."

You and Damien exchange a glance. "Sounds fun. Actually, we've heard about the party just now. How many people are your team members inviting?" You asked, curious.

Huxley takes a moment to ponder before shrugging. He's nearly done with this food. "It's supposed to be just with a few close friends. Nothing too crazy, you know? After the last party that ended with fireworks exploding in someone's bedroom, they want to keep it lowkey."

"Huh. Close friends, but they tried to invite a certain Energetic," Damien interjects. "What's up with that?"

"You heard about that too?" Huxley replied, surprise coloured his tone. "Word travel like, super-fast around campus! It happened, like, yesterday morning!"

Damien let out an annoyed groan and ran a palm down his face. "I think it's safe to say that everyone in this fucking academy is talking about it and nothing else. God, no matter where you go, you can't escape it."

You pat Damien's arm in a comforting manner. "They're hot and popular; people will be talking about them until we all graduate."

"And if it isn't them, people would be talking about their boyfriend," Huxley pointed out, stirring his smoothie languidly. Huxley smiles and offers it to you when you critically stare at it for a tad too long. Against your better judgement, you try again.

Blek! It still tastes the same! Huxley just chuckles and finishes the rest of the smoothie while you seek solace with your boba tea again.

"Besides, it's not often you see an Energetic and Vampire couple walking around," Huxley continued. "I think they're living together too. I mean, that's what I heard."

"Don't tell me you also have a crush on them."

Before Huxley could say anything, you tentatively raise your hand as if you guys are in class. Now you bear Damien's annoyed glance. "I was kinda hardcore crushing on them and their boyfriend before Gavin and I officially got together. They keep to themselves and their boyfriend most of the time, but they're super nice in classes."

The Elemental and Energetic courses often have classes that intermingle every week. However, they're primarily compulsory lessons like magical history, laws regarding coverts and taxonomy of various Empowered creatures.

So you're practically classmates with the hottest Electro Energetic in the academy and had even sat beside them a few times during class. Unlike many of the students who simp for them at a distance.

The power couple of D.A.M.N is certainly interesting, to say the least.

You narrowed your eyes at Damien when he refused to let up his disappointed stare. "Don't lie to me. You simp for them too."

Damien huffs and crosses his arms. "Both of them look good, alright. Anyone with a working pair of eyes could tell from a mile away. They're gorgeous, and the Vampire is hot - so what?"

"They're both super strong too." Huxley unknowingly throws more wood into the fire.

By the time their lunch ended, Damien had demanded they talk about something else, so you jump into plans for the weekend. Party on Saturday and a gaming session on Sunday.

Typical college life.

When the time on your phone displays 10.30 PM in glaring bright light and you're still on campus, you know what death feels like.

It's quiet in the cafeteria, save for a small group of students huddled together around tables scattered in various places. Their heads are hunched down as they go over textbooks and assignments. One of the students happens to be a Vampire judging from the blood bag beside his laptop.

A red swirly straw juts out of the bag, and for a brief moment of exhaustion, you entertain the image of the student sipping the blood bag as if it was a Capri Sun.

Just like those students, the reason why you've stayed late in the academy's cafeteria is because of assignments. You know that if you bring your homework back home with you, you won't get any of it done. It's better to stay here and slough through them instead.

Damien would scold and drag you home if he knew. Huxley would be sad and plead for you to rest, and Lasko would put on his guidance counsellor voice and advise you that a good night's sleep would help you think better.

The boys mean well, and you love them for it, but you know yourself better than anyone. If you don't finish these assignments tonight, you would just procrastinate until the deadline punches you right in the face.

You sigh and rub your temple in frustration. You've made good progress so far, but there's still a few left and you want to complete them all before going home. So you resume writing down the essay about the importance of convert and the Department on your laptop, fingers deftly flying all over the keyboard.

Nighttime at D.A.M.N is not as busy as it is in the morning. The students that are going in and out of classes are mostly Vampires and nocturnal animal Shifters. The academy's faculties are also lesser in terms of numbers compared to their morning counterpart.

Twice you've experienced the nightlife at D.A.M.N, and tonight would be your third. You wondered if Gavin is at home already. Hopefully, you can return to the apartment before him. Better wrap this up, then.

The steady rhythm of your fingers on the keyboard and quiet discussion from the group of students slowly lull you to sleep. Hang in there just a little more!

The sound of a Daemon Rifting into this world startles you awake.

"Here you are, Deviant," Gavin said, his ordinarily seductive voice laced with conceal anger. Oh shit, you're in trouble now. "I thought we talked about this."

You have no choice but to face him. Gavin looks devastatingly as sexy as ever; his black t-shirt snugly fits his body to the point that it showcases his biceps tastefully. A pair of dark blue jeans that he just so happens knows will get your heart racing and accompanied by a pair of shiny black Doc Martens boots. A rainbow-coloured bead bracelet is on his right wrist; a gift from Caelum.

You would've swoon at the sight of him if you weren't seconds away from face planting on your laptop.

So instead, you greet him with a, "Whaaa... Gavin?" You rub your eyes and blink at him. "W-What are you doing here? I thought you'd be - " You break out a yawn before sighing. "At home by now."

"Funny. I thought the same thing about you but colour me surprised when Caelum reached out to me while I was grocery shopping — saying that you aren't home even when it's close to midnight." Gavin explains and tilts his head to the spread of books you have before you. "So, want to explain why you're at the campus cafeteria right now instead of in our bed?"

The gears in your head are scrambling to come up with an excuse that's good enough to appease Gavin. So lost in your thoughts that you didn't hear the whispers coming from the nearby students.

"That's the main boyfriend..."

"Holy fuck, an Incubus? Damn, they're insatiable!"

"How often do you think they have orgies? Twice a week?"

" - collecting them like Pokemon!"

Oh fuck it, you can't come up with anything decent. "I'm nearly done with my assignments, Gavin." You assured the worried Incubus. "Just need to write down a few more paragraphs..."

Gavin is undeterred. "Freelancer, we talked about this. It's not healthy that you're making a habit of staying over at campus late at night because of assignments. You're going to burn out like this."

Well yeah, you could feel your body is already seconds away from collapsing but like hell would you admit that to your boyfriend. It's been a long day and an even longer evening. It's a good thing that tomorrow's the weekend.

Gavin startles you once more by leaning against the table and cupping your face in his large hands, so you're forced to look straight into his eyes. He's many things, but to those he deeply trusts and loves, his eyes would always betray the worry and concern he has for you and Caelum; even if his words aren't as forthcoming at times. "My stubborn, enticing Deviant... Are you being a brat again? Not listening to your Dom like you should be?" He purrs.

All of a sudden, your throat suddenly feels like sandpaper, and your heart skips a beat at Gavin's tone. You're very familiar with that tone - it always promises punishment and pleasure mixed together until nothing else exists except for your boyfriend.

But the question now is, how far can you actually push him. So with Gavin still refusing to release your face, you swallow and reply as nonchalantly as you can, "Oh, I don't know about enticing, Gavin. I-I mean, I've been running around campus the whole day. Probably have some barbecue sauce stain on my jacket and - Ow!"

You puff out your cheeks when Gavin pinched them.

"Are you purposely trying to test me, Freelancer? You know that just means more fun for me, and you tie up and helpless on the bed, right?" Gavin is all too happy to remind you, cocking one eyebrow at your impertinence. No doubt he already has your punishment in mind when the two of you are home.

But you're not going to budge that easily. Sensing your stubbornness, Gavin lets you go and unleashes his ultimate move with a sigh.

"I can see the Knots on you, Freelancer, and if I can see them, Caelum can too. I'm not covering your ass when he comes over for breakfast tomorrow and starts crying."

You gasp and immediately recoil. "Low blow Gavin!" You counter, but you know that he speaks the truth. Your heart will literally break if you're the reason that Caelum cries.

Gavin smirks when you switch off your laptop. He helps put your things away and offers a hand to you. With a small smile, you let yourself be gently pulled up by him and sling your backpack over a shoulder.

"Are you hungry?" Gavin asked as the two of you stepped into the large hallway, hand-in-hand. "I didn't manage to make anything when I put the groceries away, but I can whip something up real quick when we get home."

It's a sweet gesture, and you made sure that he knows how much you appreciate it by squeezing his hand. Ever since you two started living together, Gavin is determined to feed you properly. According to him, it's only fitting since you've constantly been feeding him too. "I'm more sleepy than hungry." You reply after a yawn. "I'll just eat a big breakfast tomorrow."

"I'll hold you to it. Also, look alive, Deviant. Hottie approaching at 12 O'clock."

That got your attention immediately, and snapped your eyes forward. Your jaw would've dropped if it weren't for Gavin lightly nudging your side when you saw who was walking towards the two of you.

It's them — the Electro Energetic that became the talk around campus.

They're as breathtaking as ever, even after a whole day of classes and club activities. Not a single hair out of place and clothes unruffled. Their body language stood out to you; their gait is a little hesitant but friendly, while their eyes are kind.

It's easy to see why so many people harbour crushes on them, and you've always been a sucker for cute faces.

When they finally approach you, they pull out a pair of wireless white earbuds from their ears. That's when you hear intense music playing:

It's the Pumpkin Patch King

With the corpse with the ring

And she'd fuck my best friend if I die here today...

"Um, hi. Good evening. I'm sorry for bothering you guys so late like this. Are you heading home?" They inquire tentatively.

Gavin waits for you to take the lead. "Hey, man. Yeah, we kind of are, actually. Want us to walk you home?" You could feel how pleased Gavin is beside you. The offer just crosses your mind, and besides, it's not nice to walk alone this late at night.

That's what you're telling yourself despite the small part in your brain whispered that walking them home would be a great step of getting to know them better. It's just a harmless crush anyway.

Unfortunately, they decline the offer. "I'm waiting for someone, actually, but when I saw you, I wanted to talk for a bit."

Your heart skips a beat for a second time tonight. They specifically sought you out? You? When they've never done so towards anyone before?

"O-Oh," You embarrassingly squeak, clutching Gavin's hand tighter.

The Electro Energetic nod. They tilt their head like an indulged, curious cat and god, that simple gesture shouldn't look so hot. "I don't know if you notice me, but we share Covert Laws - "

If you notice them? If you notice them!? They have a stronger presence than the lecturers themselves! They radiate magic like thunderstorms - intimidating, powerful and commanding that you have no choice but to submit to it.

Sitting beside them was an experience and a half! There's no way an Empowered creature could ignore them despite their quiet demeanour!

" - and I was wondering if you would like to be partners for the final project this year? Um, I heard that you're really good in that class, and I promise to pull my weight with the research and - "

You don't know how to react. Is this really happening? One of the most popular students in the academy wanted to be your project partner? You thought this sort of situation only occurs in animes!

"They'd love to." Gavin smoothly answers when you're too shocked to say anything. "It's always nice to make new friends after all. Especially with a walking wet dream such as yourself." Here, he purposely pauses to appraise the Electro Energetic.

Just like his Freelancer, Gavin has heard all about this Empowered human and even basks in the delicious energy coming from the thoughts and emotions his partner has for them. As an Incubus and their boyfriend, it's hilarious that his Deviant thought he's not aware of their crush. It's cute.

Hmm... it'll be nice if he and the Freelancer could invite the Energetic and their Vampire lover into their bed one of these days. Regardless if they've been Marked; honestly, that just made the couple as appealing as the biblical Forbidden Fruit.

And besides, Gavin has a strong feeling that the Freelancer wouldn't oppose the idea. It'll be the perfect anniversary present for his Deviant.

"...Was that supposed to be a compliment?" They ask warily. Oops, looks like he's coming on a little too strongly. Time to take it down a notch.

"It's whatever you want it to be. Anyway, now that you guys are... partners, what say you get to know us better, hmm? My lover has been eager to be friends with you." Gavin explains. You whip your head at him incredulously. Is he seriously doing what you think he's doing!? "I'm Gavin, by the way. It's a pleasure to finally meet you."

The Energetic look confused, and you can't blame them. You need to save them before Gavin proposes something as crazy as an orgy on your behalf!

You laugh awkwardly, bringing their attention to you. "Right! Partners! I'd love to be yours - I-I mean, uh, for school stuff! Yeah! Can we exchange numbers?"

"Smooth, Deviant." Gavin teases. Something caught his interest, not that you notice as you and the Energetic trade contact information. They compliment the cute picture you have as your Home Screen (it's a selfie shot of you and Gavin, Lasko, Damien and Huxley during the previous game night. It's a shame that Caelum couldn't appear), and in return, you ask where did they buy their sick phone cover.

While they still feel like the human embodiment of a fierce thunderstorm, it's nice to have a casual conversation with them. They're thoughtful, kind and fun that you soon find yourself calming down a little.

"Not to cut this riveting conversation short, but are you sure that you don't want us to walk you home? It's getting really late, and we're more than happy to have you crash at our place for the night." Gavin interjects with a seductive grin, eyes half-lidded.

"Umm..."

Whoa, what happened to being friendly, Gavin!? You shoot him a look; he's going to drive them away!

"We have an extra guest room at our apartment." You hurried to explain. "So it's totally cool if your place is far away or something."

Their hesitation melts to understanding. The last thing that you want is a misunderstanding between you two.

"You guys are sweet, but I'll be alright. Actually, I'm about to leave the campus too. I'm just going to hang out at the cafeteria until he arrives." They said. You have a pretty good idea who 'he' is judging by their soft smile.

Gavin, for some reason, amp up his game. With a smirk, he cajoles, "Since he hasn't shown up yet, how about you hang out with us for a bit? There's a bar not too far from here - "

You flinched, and Gavin automatically shuts up and pulls you close to his side when a Vampire appears behind the Electro Energetic. It was so sudden that his appearance was a blur at first.

"Vincent? You're done with class already?" They blink. An arm snaked around their waist as the Vampire pulled his Mate close to his chest. The Energetic had to crane their head up slightly to look at him.

He's as tall as Gavin. Dressed in a casual black coat that screams money with a dark grey shirt accompanied by a pair of black jeans and boots. His silver studs, rings and watch glimmer underneath the fluorescent lights. Everything about this man reminds you of a panther sizing up its prey.

You gulped. He's currently glaring daggers at you and your boyfriend. You're itching to stutter out a, "This isn't what it looks like!" for some reason.

Now, ever since you learned about the existence of magic and Empowered creatures, you did your best to be open-minded. Even that whole ordeal with Vega didn't stop you from reaching out to the various Daemons attending the academy.

However, you haven't managed to befriend a Vampire due to their night classes, and even the few times you stay back like today, most of them are running back and forth through the hallways to catch their next lesson.

So to be the target of a pissed off Vampire made you uncomfortable. You want to fidget, but Gavin's arm secured around you ease some of that tension.

"Mm-hmm. I'm on break right now, so I can drive you back home. You done with that talk with your guidance counsellor?" The Vampire inquired, eyes still glued at you and Gavin.

"All done. We lost track of time when we discussed next semester's timetable for the Energetic course and potential careers once we graduate." His lover explains, unaware of the displeasure rolling off like waves from their boyfriend. "I think I need some time to go over them again. It's a bit much to take in."

The Vampire hums in acknowledgement. "We can go through them together this weekend if you like, Lovely. Maybe we can ask Will for help since he's coming over on Saturday for dinner too."

Oh, you suppose that's why they reject the Earth Elemental players' invitation to the party.

But the Vampire wasn't done. He assesses you and Gavin with narrowed eyes as if you were stains on the bottom of his boots. What the hell? "By the way, are these guys bothering you?"

A chill sweeps through you, sending goosebumps crawling on your skin at the sudden shift of tone. He was warm and affectionate when speaking to his lover, but now? It's colder than ice.

Gavin, whose smirk turns into a shit-eating grin, is utterly unfazed at the Vampire's hostility. In fact, you would go as far as to say that he's relishing it. "We're just keeping your gorgeous Mate company while they're waiting for you. I was just about to propose that we move the conversation to a bar so we could all get to know one another a lot more... intimately."

Oh god, they're so fucked. You have no idea why your boyfriend is trying to start shit up, but you're too tired to deal with this drama. So again, you try to salvage the situation.

"Just as friends!" You quickly butt in. "We decide to be partners for an assignment in Covert Laws, so hanging out at a bar sounds like a good idea as friends." You're sprouting bullshits at this point, but you hope it's enough to save both of your asses. You also made sure to emphasise the word 'friends'.

The Vampire quickly looks at the Energetic for confirmation, and they readily nod. His aggressive body posture relaxes somewhat, but he's still wary of you and Gavin.

Maybe this is the best time to introduce yourself to him.

"Uh, it's a little silly that we didn't introduce ourselves right away, but I'm a Freelancer." You mutter out rather awkwardly. Should you offer a hand to him?

Gavin saves you from doing so. "And I’m their boyfriend, Gavin. An Incubus."

"...Vincent Solaire." The Vampire - Vincent - reluctantly replies.

Wait - his surname sounds familiar, though. You think you heard it in one of the classes about the supernatural factions in Dahlia... It's on the tip of your tongue...

"Oh, we've heard all about you, Your Highness." Gavin slyly quips. "You and your lover are quite the celebrities around here."

Holy shit. Solaire! The most powerful Vampire clan in the city! You remember now; the King has two progeny - A Vampire Princess & Prince. You didn't expect the Energetic boyfriend to be the Prince himself! What a twist!

"Celebrities?" The Energetic - Lovely, as Vincent calls them - pipes up in confusion. The way their eyebrows furrow is adorable, but you wisely keep that to yourself.

They really are a mesmerising couple. You detect the perfume that lingers around Lovely is sweet and misty. It's calming yet so light that it dances just out of your reach; like a coy lover. Slowly driving you mad with desire. Vincent's cologne reminds you of husk and cedar. Subtle, but once you catch a whiff of it, it'll stay within your mind for hours on end. Wondering if that particular scent will ever return - like the perfect one night stand.

It says a lot about the couple.

"We haven't done anything wrong." Vincent Solaire stated, voice as hard as steel. "I don't know why you're trying to rile us up, Incubus, but I don't appreciate you and your lover hitting on my Mate when I made it clear that I Mark them."

Ooooh, he's jealous! Wait - did you come across as flirty to him!? Did Gavin purposely flirt with Lovely to make Vincent jealous? You've completely lost the plot.

"Consider it as an act of public service," Gavin answers, easily brushing off the Vampire Prince's irritability. "Besides, how can I not when you both are half of the student body's recent fantasies."

Lovely 'eeped' when Vincent bare his fangs at your boyfriend. "Back off, Gavin. Lovely is mine. Not yours or the Freelancer's."

Whoa, whoa! A severe misunderstanding is boiling here! No one is stealing Lovely away from him!

Fortunately, Lovely has gotten tired of the conversation. With a put-out sigh, they pat the arm around their waist to capture Vincent's attention. It worked. "No one is stealing the other's partner, Vince. It's all good; chill. You know you're the only one for me, right?" Here, they peck his cheek. "When did you get so possessive?"

Vincent grumbled but didn't explain himself, so Lovely just shook their head.

"Anyway, we better get going before Vincent's next class starts. It was nice meeting you two. I'll text you soon so we can plan on how to tackle that project."

You give a shaky smile and a thumbs up. "Looking forward to it."

Immediately after you said that, Vincent bares his fangs to you next. Oh my god, this guy needs to fucking relax!

"We're going! We're going! C'mon, Vincent. You're driving me home. Now."

And with that, you watch as Lovely drags the Vampire Prince to the parking lot. It's a strange yet comical sight. You only sigh in relief when they're out of your view.

"I thought I saw my life flashing before my eyes!" You complain. Those were the single most stressful moments that you’ve encountered— second to Vega invading your home.

"I think that went well, Deviant." Gavin objected, very pleased with himself. "He's pissed now, but he and his Mate will be thanking us soon."

So you were right; Gavin purposely flirted with Lovely just to rile Vincent up, and for what? Possessive, sexy time later tonight? Oh, whatever. That's enough drama for one night; you seriously just need to pass out now.

And with that, the two of you head home without realising your interactions with the power couple of D.A.M.N didn't go by unnoticed by the several students who were hovering close.

"Are you hurting anywhere, Lovely?"

"I'm alright, Vincent. The hickeys and bruises are healing nicely; my body still feels a bit sore but not enough to cripple me, so stop hovering near the door."

Vincent guilty did as he’s told and takes a seat on the corner of the bed. He watches you apply some light makeup on your face and neck in front of the vanity table as you're getting ready to head out to the academy. Your outfit compliments your look and, most importantly, hides any patches of skin except for your hands.

Vincent really went all out last weekend after his night classes ended. It's obvious that Gavin unleashed something within your lover, and you will freely admit that an unrestrained Vincent makes for a very fun and wild night.

The moment Will came over and realised that Vincent re-Mark you an hour before he arrives, he graciously decided to take a rain check and promise to have dinner with the two of you some other time.

Once Vincent gets it out of his system, he teased before leaving you gobsmacked and Vincent a blushing mess.

"You know, your guidance counsellor wouldn't mind if you're absent from classes today, Lovely. Probably." Vincent tries; a part of him doesn't want his Lovely to attend their lessons while their body is still healing. Then again, that part also whispers that the Incubus and his lover would be around them without his supervision.

Nope. No. Bad Vincent. Lovely is more than capable of taking care of themselves. They don't need him acting like a jealous, clingy boyfriend.

However, something that the Incubus bothered him.

"You and your lover are quite the celebrities around here."

What did he mean by that? He and Lovely had been playing good students the entire time they've been on campus! Their assignments are always delivered on time, grades nothing but above average, and they keep to themselves to avoid any typical college dramas.

Is it because of his status? For some reason, Vincent feels like it's more complicated than that. What a headache.

"Maybe, but I did promise the Freelancer that I’ll catch up with them to discuss our project," You commented and spritz your favourite perfume on your wrists and neck. You love this scent, despite it being cheap and common. "Vincent, honey, you're making that face again."

"It's my face, Lovely."

"Yeah, well, you have your happy-snappy-neck face again, Vincent." You dryly point out before sitting beside the Vampire. "Did that Incubus really rub you the wrong way?" Your voice is gentle. You didn't get any bad vibes coming from Gavin and the Freelancer - just genuine, harmless, friendly flirting. In a way, you welcome it as their attempts helped you drive your anxiety away.

God, walking up to them was hard enough. You always feel a little intimidated whenever you're around charismatic people.

"I don't know... I thought they were making you nervous, and the words that kept coming out of that Daemon's mouth? He knew what he was doing; I just can't figure out what or why." Vincent admits, frustrated.

Seeing him look so frustrated saddens you, so you propose a suggestion. "How about this, I'll ask the Freelancer what that whole thing on Friday was all about, and if it's anything gross, I'll give you a call so you can deal with them. How's that?"

It assured Vincent. Seeing his tiny smile urge you to peppered his face with kisses until he laughs. With your boyfriend now properly appeased, you leave the apartment for D.A.M.N.

It's a bright Monday morning. You hope that this week will be a little kinder to you than the previous one. However, the moment you arrived on campus, everyone was glancing at you curiously. When you made eye contact with the stares, the students couldn't walk away fast enough.

Weird.

Your first class of the day is on the second floor, so you didn't waste any time heading for the stairs. Students mingle around as they go about their day; some grab breakfast at the convenient store, while others chat with their friends at the cafeteria and lounge room. A Water Elemental is performing simple tricks at the marble fountain to an adoring crowd.

Just as you rounded a corner, the crowd parted ways with a subtlety of a serial killer in slasher movies, which is to say, absolutely none whatsoever to reveal your new friend. The Freelancer is flanked by their boyfriend, Gavin, on the left and on their right, the famous player in the Earth Elemental team Huxley and one of the academy's guidance counsellors, Lasko.

You couldn't help but notice that everyone is giving them a wide berth. Not that it matters when Gavin's body is positioned to shield the Freelancer from bumping into any of the passing students. Huxley passes a bottle of orange juice to them while Lasko is staring at something behind the Freelancer. He mutters something under his breath.

A loud voice suddenly bounces off the walls. "What happened to my water tumbler, Freelancer!?"

You and every other student in the area watch as the Freelancer turns around and loudly replies, "Don't worry! I already got you a new tumbler, Damien! It looks exactly like your old one. Except it's pastel pink with kittens on it, and the shape looks like a really fat snowman with bunny ears for straws." To make a point, the Freelancer rummage inside of their backpack and proudly present the weirdest looking water tumbler you had ever seen in your life to their boys.

"AAAAAHHHHH!"

"You know you could at least see it before you judge it, Damien." The Freelancer grumbled and shoved the tumbler back. Huxley gently pats their shoulder in a comforting manner. Lasko laughs nervously while Gavin continues to protect his lover silently, all the while looking at ease.

Everyone knows of the Freelancer and their boyfriends. They're the most popular group in D.A.M.N for a reason. Friendly, yet no one can be a part of their group due to the tight bond they have with one another.

The Freelancer is quickly shaping up to be a remarkable magical individual in their own right, marching to the beat of their own drums rather than the world's. Unwaveringly kind and friendly, constantly making sure the people around them are comfortable and safe.

In terms of academic performance, Damien remains unchallenged among his peers. Everyone could tell that he would undoubtedly change their world for the better the moment he graduates, especially in governing. He's also known for his fiery temper, yet that fire becomes a hearth when it comes to the Freelancer. More than once, students have stumbled upon them huddled close in the library, softly discussing the future they wanted.

If Damien is known for his academic excellence, then Huxley is famous for his prowess in the field. His mastery over his element made the younger Earth Elementals look up to him as their role model while his teammates view him as their ace. Charming, cheerful yet a bit absentminded at times, and even then, you can't help but be fond of him. You can find the Freelancer cheering him from the bleachers during his matches, and once Huxley won the game, he would immediately launch himself at them. Sweats, dirt and grass all over him, but the Freelancer would laugh as he hoisted them up in his embrace.

Lasko is an odd addition to their group, but once he drops his stuttering, he shows just how capable he is as one of the academy's guidance counsellors. Acknowledged as one of the most powerful Air Elemental of his generation, Lasko is well on track to graduate D.A.M.N with honours, and while the future might be uncertain, students like to speculate that he will remain with the Freelancer and the others no matter what. Sometimes you can even catch a glimpse of them hanging out at one of the local cafes and see how bright and alive Lasko can be when around the Freelancer.

Gavin came with a mystery trailing his saunter. See, no one knew how exactly he and the Freelancer first met. Speculations range from a cute, accidental meet up in a random convenience store to the Incubus boldly inviting them into a threesome when the Freelancer stumbled upon him mid-feeding. Lovely wonders if there's a betting pool going around the academy. The seniors would recognise Gavin, for he was their peer before he suddenly dropped out and vanished for a while. But judging by his frequent presence around the Freelancer, some say that he's looking forward to retaking his previous course. But whatever the reason may be, no one can deny the chemistry he has with the Freelancer. How fiercely protective he is of them when the Freelancer isn't looking.

They're certainly an intriguing group, that's for sure.

And when Gavin notices you were watching them, he winks at you. No doubt as an Incubus, he could scent what you and Vincent had been up to the entire weekend.

That's what you get for a magical academy, after all.

PS: Everyone in D.A.M.N (including Lovely & Vincent) hilariously assumes that the Freelancer is in a poly relationship with Gavin, Damien, Lasko & Huxley when in reality, they're just with Gavin. BBBBuuuttt... Gavin could detect the romantic/lustful feelings the other bois harbour for the Freelancer but kept it to himself for now. He's just waiting for the Freelancer to feel the same way so he could give them all The Talk™ and then go buy a bigger bed!

Anyway, I seriously had a lot of fun writing for this oneshot! It's been a while since I had that writing fever again so I hope you guys enjoyed it!

#redacted asmr #fanfic #second pov #they/them pronouns #gender neutral s/o #lovely (listener)#freelancer (listener)#vincent solaire #game #damien #huxley #will and caelum are mentioned

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mrsalwayswrite · 3 years

Text

More Than Today (Richard Winters x Reader)

So this has been in my wips for MONTHS. But here we are! I know its also been a hot minute since I’ve written any BOB fics. Sorry, friends. Hope you enjoy!

Warnings: a couple swear words (thanks Nixon)

Words: 2750

Tag List: @happyveday @evelynshelby @sydney-m @saritanotserena

Paris.

City of Light.

City of Love.

Dick Winters just wished the soldier behind him would stop bumping his chair as he laughed at another dirty joke.

It had not been his idea to be here. Apparently Sink thought he needed a break. Nixon and Welsh ganged up on him, practically forcing him to pack his bag and get on the train.

Now that he was here though….it was nice.

He would never admit how many steaming, hot baths he had taken since finding his hotel room. Plus, sleeping in a real, soft bed- his bones sang with joy at the reprieve from the hard, army cot it had been subjected to for years now.

Tomorrow morning he was supposed to be leaving. His last 24 hours in Paris. Truthfully, he had done nothing, just rest. Both physically and mentally. He knew if he returned without having visited some kind of touristy place, both Nixon and Welsh would be furious. Though, he would have to have a conversation with Nix. It was not until Dick started unpacking that he found the box of condoms Nix must have slipped into his bag when he was not looking.

Sometimes he wondered why he put up with the man. Even that thought made him smile. Somehow him and Nix, they just clicked. Completely polar opposites but maybe that was what allowed their friendship to take root and grow.

The soldier behind Dick laughed loudly, rocking his chair back with the movement and knocking into Dick once again. He grimaced, just saving himself from spilling coffee onto his Class A uniform. He knew he outrank the man behind him and all his friends, he could easily say something…. but that seemed like a battle not worth fighting.

He quickly finished his small cup of coffee, relishing the actual bitter taste of the drink verse the watery stuff the army supplied. Standing up, he pulled out the change from his pocket, ready to leave a tip for the nice waitress.

"There you are!" A feminine voice called out with a distinctly British accent.

Dick lifted his head, knowing she was not talking to him but still curious. But then the strangest thing happened. He looked up and met her eyes as she walked past the few other tables. A blinding smile lit up her face and he felt his heartbeat stutter at how beautiful it was. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the others sitting around watching her with interest but her eyes remained solely focused on him.

When she came to his side, she gently placed a hand on his forearm and lifted up slightly on her toes to press a quick kiss to his cheek. "I'm so sorry I am late, love. I lost track of time. Do we still have time for a cup or shall we go?" She easily asked, as she slid down into the extra chair at the table.

He stood frozen for a moment, his mind questioning everything that just happened. Thankfully, his body went on autopilot and he sat back down in his chair. "Uh…. it’s fine."

"Lovely!" She beamed, waving a hand to get the attention of the waitress.

As he stared at her, his mind finally seemed to feel the tension hidden just below the surface of her overly-sunny disposition. Her hands laid in her lap, a white-knuckle grip on her small purse though. A friendly smile remained on her face but her eyes kept shifting warily over to the other side of the street, like prey keeping a predator in its peripheral.

Confused and now concerned, he peered over to where her eyes kept shooting. Two men stood across the street watching her with sullen expressions. Their uniforms informed him they were US army, the chevrons on their sleeves stated they were both sergeants.

Dick turned back to her and lowered his voice, even though he guessed over the noise of those around him, the men would not hear. "Ma'am, are you alright?"

"Wait." She said sharply, even though her smile never faltered. Then the waitress approached and the woman ordered a cup of tea with enthusiasm. Dick found himself ordering another cup of coffee per her insistence.

Finally, the waitress walked away, having had a brief conversation about the lovely color of lipstick she wore with the woman across from him after taking their orders.

It was then the woman peeked across the street once more. Whatever she saw, Dick watched the tension ease out of her. He glanced over to see the two men making their way back down the street.

"Bloody hell." She muttered, dropping her face in her hands.

"Are you alright? Were those men bothering you?"

"Mmm? Oh, no, well yes. They kept following me even after I told them I was meeting my fiancé. I am so terribly sorry I dragged you into this, it was either find someone to pretend to be my fiancé or find an alley nearby and stab them. I quite like this dress and would prefer not to get blood on it today."

He just stared at her, unsure how to take her answer. He would have thought it was a joke but with the way she casually answered, as if stating the sky was blue, he assumed she was serious. "Um, right." He coughed, not quite sure where to take the conversation from there. Luckily, she seemed to notice.

"Is there somewhere you need to go? I truly am sorry for holding you up. I'll pay for your coffee when the waitress returns, it's the least I can do. Don't feel like you have to stay here just for me."

"No, no. It's alright, ma'am. I was just…." His voice trailed off.

She smiled softly at him, folding her hands in her lap. "Are you stationed here in Paris?"

At that moment, the waitress returned with their ordered drinks.

"No." He answered her prior question, watching her take a sip from her cup. His own cup sat between his hands but he felt no need to drink it yet. "My CO demanded I take a 72-hour pass."

"Mmm….so you are one of those?" She laughed lightly at the look of confusion on his expressive face. "A CO who actually cares about his men, focuses on making sure they are taken care of, instead of spending time with the other officers wasting all his money on booze and women."

"Um…." He could feel a warmth spreading over his face. Hoping to hide it, he brought his cup to his lips and took a sip.

"It's alright, sir. We need more officers like you in this damn war. What's your name?"

That he could easily answer. "Lieutenant Dick Winters, Easy Company, 506th, Parachute Infantry Regiment, 101st Airbourne."

"Pleasure to meet you, Lieutenant Winters. I'm y/n y/l/n. So Airbourne, hmmm? I've heard about you. Tell me about your training."

And somehow Dick found himself telling her about Currahee, about the jumps at Mackall, the field drills in Upottery, even laughing about Sobel's antics with her.

Eventually, their cups ran dry.

"Where are you off to now?" She asked pleasantly.

Dick answered honestly, feeling relaxed in her presence. "I'm not sure."

"Well, it so happens I was on my way to visit the Notre-Dame Cathedral. Would you like to join me?"

"Sure."

Dick insisted on paying for both of their drinks, claiming his mother would read him the riot act if he allowed a woman to pay for her own. As they walked away from the cafe, she slipped her arm through his like they had done it a million times. Instead of feeling embarrassed or uncomfortable at the unexpected physical touch, he found himself smiling down at her.

What started off as a day without any intended plan, just enjoying not being on the front line or behind a desk writing reports, became one of the most enjoyable days of his life. After the Cathedral, they wandered along the Seine, stopping at any shop or attraction that caught their eye. She regaled him with different facts or histories of places they saw and other locations in Paris. Before the war, she had spent some time in Paris and now, having returned as a translator, she felt it was even more important to remember those things that the Nazis tried so hard to destroy.

Soon conversations turned to their own experiences at home, his in Pennsylvania and hers in London. The more they talked, the more he found himself attracted to her beyond the physical. She was a breath of fresh air amongst the smog of war. A ray of sunshine to remind him that above the dark clouds of War, the sun still resided. But even if the day was spent in laughter and companionship, a war still brewed outside. A painful reminder to what Dick's priorities should be. So, he promised himself that he would enjoy her company now, but once he left Paris, he would put her out of his mind. His men and the war came first.

As night settled over the city, they walked side by side back to her hotel. It was not too far from his own, thus he refused to listen to her protests and told her he would escort her back for her own safety.

"Well, this is me." She stopped in front of the lovely hotel. "Thank you for escorting me."

"It's the least I can do. You spent the whole day being my tour guide."

"That sounds dreadfully boring. But you'll have stories to share with that Nixon friend of yours. Though he may be more impressed if you bring him back a vintage bottle of wine."

"No, he only drinks Vat 69. Lord knows where the man keeps finding the stuff."

"Besides your footlocker?"

"Yeah, besides that." He chuckled at her jest and the mischievous smile on her face. As they stood there, smiling at one another, he found himself wishing they had more time. That perhaps he had met her before or after the war and had been able to court her properly. For now though, he would cherish their time together. "Thank you for today."

Her smile held a hint of sadness in it, as if she lamented their separation just as much as he did. "I pray our paths will cross again."

"Goodnight, y/n."

"Goodnight, Dick."

He stepped back, lingering a moment longer to gaze at her. After, he turned and started to walk away. The hour was late and they both needed to sleep. It was less than 8 hours until his train was to depart in the morning and he knew it would be wise to enjoy his soft bed one more time before returning to a hard, army cot.

"Dick!"

He spun around, surprised to see her walking towards him, her heels clicking loudly on the sidewalk.

"Is everything alright?"

Without acknowledging his question, she pressed her lips to his in an eager kiss. Dick liked to consider himself a gentleman, never to take advantage of anyone, especially a woman. In this moment though, as all thoughts fled under her touch, his body reacted on instinct. His arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her flush against him while their lips parted, deepening the kiss. She moaned into his mouth, tasting like the wine she sipped on at dinner, her hands tightly gripping the lapels of his uniform. Heat coursed through his body as their tongues tangled together. He felt hypnotized, unable to pull away, to maintain propriety. Nor did he want too. She nipped at his bottom lip and his knees almost buckled underneath him. This moment was pleasure and fire, something he never experienced before….and something he wanted to revisit over and over with her.

After only a second and eternity combined, they both pulled back with swollen lips and breathless. Rising on her toes, she gave him a quick peck on the lips, a single flame compared to the bonfire they just lavished themselves in. Swiftly, she stepped back, running her hands over her dress.

"Goodnight…. don’t tell Nixon about this."

He nodded, almost shyly, mind still reeling from their shared passion. "Yes, ma'am."

With a playful, flirty wink, she twirled around and headed back towards her hotel, her heels clicking loudly on the ground.

Dick watched her walk away, lips still tingling and residual flames teasing his nerves. His eyes traced over her form, hoping to memorize it, to be able to always savor this moment. Looking up to the heavens, he silently prayed that one day, their paths would cross, one day he could perhaps pursue her, one day he could feel her lips against his again.

*****

"So, you still haven't said much about your time in Paris." Nixon prodded, sipping from his canteen that certainly was not water. The intelligence officer had been relentlessly interrogating his friend about his pass for the past week.

Dick rolled his eyes, not even glancing over. "Not much to say, Nix."

"You had to have done something! Come on! It's Paris!"

"I saw the Notre-Dame."

"Hey, that's something. Stop pressing him, Nix." Welsh butted in with his typical lazy grin. He reclined in the extra chair next to Nixon. "He did return the condoms."

"For Pete's sake." Dick muttered as he listened to the two men laugh. He stood looking out the window of his office, overlooking Easy Company below being drilled by Lieutenant Dike. Again. There was something to be said about being prepared but this went beyond that.

"Harry, how long have they been out there now?" He asked, not removing his gaze from his men.

Welsh sighed, glancing at the clock. "About two hours now."

"Right, come on. Let's go relieve them."

The other two scrambled to their feet, following Dick out of his office and down through the labyrinth of the HQ building. Lieutenant Dike had come with high expectations but the more Dick watched the man, the more worried he became.

"You're too soft on them." Nixon teased, trailing behind him.

Dick gave a quick salute to some officers they passed, never missing a step as he responded. "They aren't learning anything by marching back and forth out there besides ways to murder their CO."

"Was that a joke? Holy fuck. Did you hear that, Harry? Dick made a joke! Paris changed you."

"I heard. Still in shock." Welsh deadpanned.

Dick sighed good-naturedly as they stepped outside the building. Slipping his cap on, he started in the direction of his newest Lieutenant. The footsteps of his companions falling in step behind him.

"Dick!"

His feet screeched to a halt. He knew that voice. Whipping around, he was greeted by the sight of her. Someone he thought he would never truly see again. A beautiful, blinding smile on her face as she hurried towards him. His heart rapidly pounded within his chest, giving away his shock and joy at seeing her.

"Y/n? What are you doing here?" He could not help sweeping his eyes over her, surprised to see her in a WAC uniform. Though it did nothing to diminish her beauty.

"I was asked to be a translator and help with deciphering coded messages." She answered casually as if she had not just revolutionized his world. Standing in front of him, she motioned to the army camp around them. "Is this where you are stationed?"

"Yeah, yeah, it is."

"Oh, that's lovely. We'll be able to see each other again. I am late for a meeting otherwise I'd love to chat. Could I see you tomorrow for a cuppa?"

"Um, sure. Yes."

"Perfect. I'll find you in the afternoon." She raised up on her toes and gave him a quick peck on the lips, causing his mind to short-circuit. "It's good seeing you, Dick."

With that she spun on her heel and sashayed away, leaving all three men standing there shocked.

"Who was that?" Nixon demanded, gaze never leaving her retreating form.

"Y/n…. I met her in Paris."

Nixon smacked him on the arm. "You bastard, you said nothing happened there."

"Nothing happened." Dick tried to defend, even if the excuse sounded weak in his own ears. Besides, for him, something certainly did happen.

"Probably should have kept those condoms, Dick." Welsh said, clapping him on the shoulder with a chuckle.

And for a brief moment, Dick wondered if he was right.

#band of brothers #Band of Brothers fandom #band of brothers fanfic #band of brothers imagines #richard winters #dick winters #richard winters x reader #dick winters x reader #lewis nixon #harry welsh #mzwrites

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jaskierswolf · 4 years

Text

A Night Alone With You

Written for the below prompt and cross posted on my AO3 ☺️

Oooh for a prompt: some tender hurt/comfort for Geraskier please ☺️ Like maybe Jaskier is having a hard day and is sad in bed and Geralt comforts him or something like that @geraskier-trashh

__________

To look at Jaskier Pankratz, you would think that he thrived when he was around people.

That wasn’t strictly true.

Yes, he did love people. He loved pleasing people but most of all he loved the music. He sang and he danced and he flirted with the crowd but it was about the music. It was only ever about the music.

No one expected a famous troubadour and poet to retire to their room alone at night and whilst he was more than happy to have a warm body to lie with, tonight he was fucking exhausted.

He’d been performing for three nights straight and every evening he’d been surrounded by beautiful people that had demanded his attention. He needed a break. He needed to hide under the sheets in his rented room. He needed to spend a week in the woods with just the taciturn witcher for company. He needed to get away from all this noise and people.

He just needed to recharge.

Then he could go back to the extroverted bard that everyone knew and loved.

He finished his song with a last strum of the lute. He smiled brightly at the crowd and bowed whilst the final notes hung in the air. He gathered up the coins that were flung in his direction and gracefully declined any offers of drinks, then he scarpered up to his room taking the stairs two at a time.

His doublet fell to the floor and he kicked off his boots then he dove under the covers.

The weight fell over him and he could finally breathe again. He hummed happily and closed his eyes. In his head he wove the next few verses of his latest composition, picturing the story so very clearly in the empty darkness of his room. He muttered under his breath as he tested out the rhymes and rhythms of the lines. Occasionally he would scrunch up his nose as the story went somewhere he didn’t like, and then he’d start over. He kept starting over until the daydream and the story of his ballad followed the path that he wanted it to.

Eventually his eyes grew heavy as he told himself his own bedtime stories and he fell asleep with his head still buried under the covers.

___________

He woke up drenched in sweat and with a pounding headache, which wasn’t helped by insistent knocking on his door.

“Bollocks.” He grumbled and untangled himself from the sheets. He pulled them around his shoulders like a cape and yawned as he padded across the wooden floorboards towards the door.

“Jaskier.” Angela, the barmaid who he had spent the previous evening with, purred as he opened the door, clearly aiming for seductive and on any other day he would have been delighted.

As it was it took all his energy not to slam the door in her face.

“Is everything alright?” He mumbled, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He peered back at his window. It was still dark outside and he could see the moon even from across the room.

She pulled at the lace of her bodice and sauntered into his room.

“It is now we’re alone.” She dragged a finger down his chest, pulling at his half opened shirt.

Fuck.

“Ah. I see.” He mumbled and extracted himself from her grip. “No. Thank you for the offer but I would really rather get some rest… alone.”

She raised an eyebrow and put her hand on her hip. “But last night?” She pouted.

“Was wonderful.” He agreed, and honestly it had been.

She sighed. “But not tonight?”

He shook his head. “Not tonight.”

She nodded with a frown, obviously hurt by his rejection. He leaned in to kiss her cheek and he squeezed her hand. “It’s nothing personal, darling.”

“Well, goodnight.” She pulled away from him too roughly and he sighed.

Fucking people, but at least she’d let it go easily, not everyone did.

“Goodnight, sweet Angela.” He whispered after her.

Then he sighed again.

“Bloody hell.” He groaned.

He pulled off his shirt and trousers this time, not wanting to overheat again and flopped back down on the bed. He jumped straight back into his composing, he couldn’t remember exactly which at point he’d fallen asleep so he went from the last bit he could remember.

Until there was another knock at the door just as he was starting to fall back to sleep.

“Oh fuck off!” He groaned. “Can’t a bard get some peace?”

“Jaskier.”

His eyes went wide and he jumped from the bed, pulling the covers with him. He almost tripped up as they tangled around his ankles and he crashed into the door.

Geralt!

He’d been out on a hunt the last view days and Jaskier hadn’t been expecting the witcher back for another day at least. There was a teensy chance that his worrying about the witcher had contributed to his foul mood and lowered his tolerance of people. It was mentally exhausting knowing that his best friend was out there risking his life for the thankless souls of humanity and there was nothing he could do about it. In front of people he acted like he had every confidence in Geralt’s abilities but in reality he’d seen the scars, he’d even seen a few of the wounds that left the scars.

No matter how good Geralt was, it never diminished the risk of him getting hurt.

Jaskier flung about the door and pulled the slightly startled witcher inside.

“Geralt!” Jaskier greeted him warmly. “How was your hunt? You must tell me everything!” He babbled on like he usually would. He didn’t want to cause Geralt any concern, especially if he’d been injured, by not being his usual verbose self.

Geralt hummed and slunk down on the edge of the bed. “Thought you’d have company?”

Jaskier shrugged.

Geralt scowled at him. “Are you alright?”

Jaskier stammered but slid down onto the bed next to Geralt and pulled at the covers so they were once again draped over his shoulders. “Yeah.” He drawled, the word sounding false even to his ears.

“Jaskier.” Geralt growled.

“I. I just needed a rest.” Jaskier mumbled.

Geralt scoffed.

“I needed to be alone.” He sighed and rested his head on Geralt’s shoulder. “Everyone always expects me to be so… ahhhh…” He gave a frantic wave of his hands, “all the fucking time. It gets a bit much, even for me.” He admitted, feeling strangely vulnerable.

Even around Geralt he was always the story teller and the extravagant poetic. Geralt struggled to express himself at times and Jaskier picked up the slack. He didn’t mind. Out of the two of them, he was the more eloquent one, and it was his role in their friendship.

Geralt grunted. “I can go.”

Jaskier grabbed Geralt’s hand before he could move and looked the witcher in the eyes. “No. Don’t.”

“You want to be alone.” Geralt looked, quite rightly, confused.

Jaskier sighed. “I don’t want to be around people.” He amended.

“But…”

“You don’t count as people.” Jaskier insisted firmly. “Please don’t go.”

Geralt smirked as he looked around the tiny room that was clearly made for just one person. “It’s cheaper to share.” He noted.

An excuse.

It was always an excuse. There was this unspoken… thing between them. It wasn’t quite a relationship but it was different to friendship. There was a weird tension there that never existed between two good friends. They shared bedrolls, actual beds, bath water, meals… practically everything in their travelling lives was shared. At first it had been out of necessity but the coin was steady these days and they no longer needed to share.

And yet.

“It is cheaper.” Jaskier agreed.

Geralt stripped off and cleaned up the best he could without calling for a bath. They would have to ask for one in the morning but at least Geralt wasn’t covered in monster guts this time. Once he was ready for bed he laid back on the mattress, his long silver hair spilling over the pillows. Jaskier still had the covers wrapped around him and he wasn’t planning on letting them go any time soon but Geralt wouldn’t complain, he never did when Jaskier stole the covers in the night.

Jaskier curled up against Geralt’s chest and let out a sigh of relief. He really had meant it when he’d said that Geralt didn’t count as people. He was one of the few people on the Continent that Jaskier could be around when he needed to recharge his energy, in fact it was almost better to be with Geralt than alone.

Still, even now, the silence was stifling.

Geralt’s fingers threaded through Jaskier’s hair as they lay there in the darkness and the silence. Jaskier felt like he could have purred under the rhythmic ministrations of the witcher’s hands, but the quiet was making his thoughts seem too loud.

They were always too loud.

“Tell me about the hunt.” He asked, tentatively breaking the silence.

Geralt’s hand stilled in his hair for a few beats but then he started again, tugging at the knots where Jaskier had been messing it up earlier in the day.

“What do you want to know?” Geralt answered with his own question, his voice a low gruff rumbling in the dark.

“Everything.” Jaskier breathed. “Make it up if you have to.”

He could practically hear the eye roll from Geralt. “I’m not making it up, Jaskier.”

“Then tell me all the wonderfully nerdy things you know about vampires.” Jaskier insisted.

“It was a bruxa. You know they aren’t just vampires. It’s more complex than that.” Geralt grumbled.

“There we go. Just like that. I like your voice.” He admitted. “It’s soothing.”

Geralt scoffed. “Says the bard.”

Jaskier whined and buried his face into Geralt’s chest. “You don’t even like my voice.”

There was a beat of silence.

“I do.” Geralt grumbled.

“Nah.” Jaskier muttered. “Don’t lie.”

“I’m not.” Geralt’s hand moved from Jaskier’s hair down his back and Jaskier felt himself being pulled closer. He snuggled into Geralt’s chest quite happily.

“Tell me.” He asked, bordering on pleading.

Geralt took a long heavy breath as he gathered his thoughts and it took all of Jaskier’s patience not to push his friend.

“You have… fuck.” Geralt snarled and buried his face into Jaskier’s hair.

Jaskier stayed silent but drew out the pattern from his lute on Geralt’s chest as best he could from memory.

“Your voice is home.” Geralt mumbled. “It’s warm. Beautiful.”

“Beautiful?” Jaskier’s heart began to race in his chest and he had no doubt that the witcher could feel it too.

“Hmm. Yes, like the sirens only you don’t try to kill me.” Geralt seemed to laugh at his own joke but Jaskier was still stuck on beautiful.

“You think my voice is beautiful?” He squeaked.

“You are beautiful.” Geralt replied with such sincerity that Jaskier felt like he was going to burst.

Instead he let out a stream of sounds and pulled the covers over his head.

“Jaskier?” Geralt asked quietly and tugged at the edge of the sheets but Jaskier held them tight.

He was blushing too much.

Geralt thought he was beautiful.

Geralt.

Oh fuck!

He whined pitifully.

“Is. Is that alright?” Geralt’s voice was muffled through the covers and Jaskier could barely hear anything over the sound of his own heart. “Your heart, are you ok?”

“Fuck, Geralt.” Jaskier groaned and pulled the covers from off his head, glaring at the witcher. “Are you trying to kill me?"

Geralt seemed taken aback. “No?”

“You. You’re being all… nice!” He sat up and waved his hands in the witchers face. “It’s. It’s too much.”

Geralt frowned. “You don’t want me to be nice?”

“No. Yes. No. Oh I don’t know!” Jaskier jumped up and tried desperately to calm his heart.

Geralt huffed. “You are being confusing tonight.”

“Yeah well, I’m not feeling like myself.” Jaskier muttered. “Sorry.”

“Jaskier?” Geralt slowly sat up and moved towards the end of the bed, like he was scared Jaskier would spook and run a mile.

He wasn’t wrong.

Jaskier licked his lips and wrapped his arms around his chest.

“Forgive me if I’m reading this wrong. I’m not good at, well, this.” Geralt snarled quietly and frowned then took a deep breath.

“Reading what wrong?” The words fell from Jaskier’s lips before he could stop them.

Geralt didn’t answer. Instead Jaskier was pulled back towards the bed and Geralt’s lips were hovering over his so tantalisingly close and yet so far. Jaskier whimpered as his knees knocked against the edge of the mattress. One of Geralt’s hands was holding his wrist and rubbing circles against the skin there with a thumb, the other was cupping Jaskier’s cheek so tenderly. He could almost hear the swell of music surrounding them in the moment. Geralt’s warm breath tickled his lips and Jaskier swallowed.

Gods, if Geralt didn’t kiss him now then he was fucked.

Royally fucked.

“Can I?” Geralt murmured, his warm amber eyes watching Jaskier intently, taking in every movement of Jaskier’s eyes and every shaking breath.

“Please.” Jaskier stammered.

And Geralt kissed him.

Oh gods, did Geralt kiss him. It was everything Jaskier had ever dreamed of and more. It was tender and slow where he’d imagined it would be rough and bruising. There was love where he’d imagined there would be pure lust. There was a hand on his wrist, pulling him down to sit with Geralt on the bed, where he’d pictured hands in his hair and being pushed up against a wall.

He couldn’t breathe.

He didn’t want to breathe.

He didn’t need to breathe.

He just needed Geralt.

Fuck.

Well perhaps he did need to breathe a little. He panted as he pulled away from the witcher. His eyes were still shut, he couldn’t remember shutting them, but he was scared that if he opened them then Geralt would disappear and he’d be alone, truly alone.

“G-Geralt?” He mumbled.

Geralt rested his forehead against Jaskier’s and Jaskier let out a sigh. His eyes slowly opening to find the witcher gazing back at him.

Gazing with such adoration that Jaskier was sure he’d stepped into a fairy tale or a dream.

“Is this alright?”

Jaskier let out a small laugh. “Yeah. More than alright. It’s perfect.”

Geralt smiled. “So I haven’t ruined your evening?”

Jaskier pulled back and hit Geralt lightly in the arm. “Geralt!” He pouted.

Geralt shrugged. “You wanted to be alone.”

Jaskier pressed his lips against Geralt’s in a chaste kiss and then bumped their noses together as they pulled apart. “My darling, there is no one else I would rather be alone with, but you.”

#the witcher #geraskier #jaskier pankratz #geralt of rivia #geraskier fanfiction #geralt x jaskier #jaskier x geralt #geralt/jaskier #julian alfred pankratz #one shot #wolfie's witcher writing #a night alone with you #let me know what you think #prompts are open

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sixofpomegranates · 3 years

Text

Rain in California - Act 1 - California

🥀Mini Series “Rain in California” Act 1 - Part 1 - California🥀

✨My Main Masterlist✨ | 18+ | AO3 | Wattpad

🥀Soundtrack🥀 | ✨Aestethic Trailer✨ | 🥀Masterlist🥀 | Words: 9.4k

A/N: The music used in this story is not owned by me (obviously) & I used it in the same style that 'Rock of ages' and 'Mamma Mia' used songs. I gave them a different meaning and context. The meaning and context are NOT representing the one that the ORIGINAL ARTIST had.

TW: ANGST, mention of loss/death/addiction/sobriety/murder, suicidal thoughts/tendencies, depression, addiction, substance abuse, drugs, alcohol, ABUSIVE RELATIONSHIP, stalking, death by overdose, mentions of OD, passive aggressiveness, arguing,

Songs in this Chapter: La di die – Nessa Berrett Going to Hell | My Medicine | Heaven Knows – The Pretty Reckless

“Spence?”

Spencer looked up from his book.

Oh, so now he was allowed to talk with them about the case.

Since the briefing they hadn’t talked to him about anything. Spencer had to beg them, to let him work on this case.

He had really felt left out and why?

Because the stalking victim was a famous Rockstar with addiction issues. Spencer was hurt about his team not wanting him to be on the case because of this. Yes, he had struggled with addiction in the past, but he had been clean for over ten years now.

Was this unfair treatment…this distrust in his sobriety, ever going to stop?

It wasn’t like they had cared much about it when Emily had faked her death or when Maeve died, but this, for them, looked like a too high risk? Because there was a pretty girl involved?

He tried his best not to sound passive aggressive when responding.

“Yeah, JJ?”, with success.

“I asked if everything´s okay.”

“Sure. Why should anything be wrong?”, the blonde shrugged a little, an apologetic look on her face.

“Well the case-“ “It´s just a stalking case. Nothing we haven’t already seen. I actually wonder why we even need to come. The stalker isn’t aggressive and hasn´t hurt anybody. Right now he´s just importunate. The police should be able to catch this unsub themselves.”, he had accidently let a little of his passive aggressiveness slip and Emily, who was sitting next to JJ, looked at him.

“The record label convinced the police to contact us. They seem worried about their artist.”

“From what I know…this girl can take care of herself.”, Luke snickered, earning himself a ‘Come on, really?’-look from Emily. “Sorry, but have you seen or listened to her music? She could probably beat Reid in a fist fight.”

“Just because she´s making rock music, doesn’t mean she´s tough. But we should talk a little about the case, Reid if you ever feel unco-“, he quickly interrupted her with a snappy tone.

“Why, because she´s an addict? I don’t care about that.”, Emily lifted her hands in a calming manner.

“Okay, jeez. Just the way you´re on edge, since the briefing, doesn’t look like you are okay.”, Spencer took a deep breath, trying to talk calmer this time, now almost pleading in tone.

“I-I know. But I´m clean since was twenty-six. I never touched anything again and I don’t feel the need to. I even regulate my alcohol intake, never drinking more than a beer, maybe two glasses of whiskey. Which means, that statistically all of you are at a higher risk, of becoming addicted, during this case, then I am. You guys need to trust me.”, the dark haired woman sighed and nodded.

“You´re right. I´m- We´re just worried. You´re our friend, Spencer.”, she handed him a file. “Just promise me you talk to one of us, if something changes.”

He nodded opening the file. A picture of [y/n] looked at him. Dark heavy make-up, dark clothing and jet black hair with colorful streaks.

His younger self would´ve been as attracted as terrified of her.

He flipped through the pages. [y/n] [y/l/n]. Twenty-six years old. Stalker since approximately two years. Nothing extremely outstanding for a stalking case…which was kinda outstanding. No letters, no calls, no pictures, no break in, no threats…sometimes she would get random, expensive present delivered to her mansion, but that was it. Given that she was famous, this presents did not even have to be from a stalker.

“Are we sure there´s even is a stalker?”, Spencer frowned at his own question, Emily shrugged as a response.

“According to the manager, Philip Schuyler, since the first time she played his concerns down, he gets these calls of a man asking for [y/n] and how she is doing. The label didn’t take it serious after he told them, but then the unsub stole the last finished album from [y/n]´s band ‘Shot Monarch’, before it could get released and distributed, also erasing every digitally existing copy. He then called the manager and send the owner of the record label a letter; typed on a computer, no fingerprints; stating that he wanted to be taken serious. Later [y/n] got the USB, containing all her songs, with a dozen white lilies, her favorite, back per mail with an apology letter; stating that she had done nothing wrong and didn’t need to worry, since he could never harm her or her carrier. That´s when the label pushed the police to contact us.”

“Because they are worried about the music…not the woman.”, JJ sighed, shaking her head.

“Well, that´s the industry. At least her manager is worried. Police states that he got himself a gun license after that and tries to be everywhere [y/n] is.”, Luke added.

“Something about that is off.”, Spencer whispered, rubbing his stubbles, before looking at JJ, Emily and Luke again. “There is nothing that indicates a stalker, but every time somebody doubts his existence, he does something noticeable. I know she is famous and that comes with the stigma of having crazed fans as stalkers, but most stalking in general is committed by someone known to the victim, such as an ex-partner or acquaintance. We should check that out.”, JJ nodded.

“It would also be smart if one of us stays by her site.”, Luke quickly raised his hand.

“I volunteer. I- Like- Really! If necessary I´ll sleep in the SUV.”, Emily raised an eyebrow.

“Can it be that you´re a fan? I heard you and Penelope freak out a little over the case earlier.”, a shy smirk appeared on his lips.

“‘Shot Monarch’ has really good music. Since my road trip a year ago, I love their stuff. Penelope actually tol-”, Spencer interrupted him determined.

“I´ll do it.”, Emily quickly shook her head.

“Reid, no.” “Why not?”, his voice got high, making him quickly cleared his throat. “Because-“ “Because she is taking drugs. Do you trust me that little, Emily?”, Spencer snapped at her and she leaned back into her seat. Sure the others from the team were older than him, but he was in his late thirties, and yet was treated like a child.

“Fine. If you think you can handle it, do it. But stop being so sassy, I hate that.”, Emily looked at look in defeat. “Luke tell him what you know about [y/n] and the band.”, he nodded pulling out his phone.

“Okay so, [y/n] is the lead singer of ‘Shot Monarch’. She´s from a small town in Ohio and came to LA when she was eighteen, to become a singer after going viral. They are a band since five years, the name never really got explained by them, but it has something to do with the butterfly; at least that’s a fan theory I now from Penelope. Plus it makes sense, because [y/n] has a tattoo of one on the back of her hand.”, Luke flipped through some pictures of older man, reminding Spencer of bikers and insurance agents at the same time. Like middle-aged fathers that liked rock but still had a nine-to-five job.

“Hank, the guitarist, was a lawyer before and in a cover band with his high school friends Tom, the bassist, who worked for an insurance company, and Leroy, the drummer, who was history teacher and is also married to Hank. They met [y/n] at an open mic night and even though she´s twenty-six and they are in their late forties, early fifties, they got along so well, that they became a band. That´s ‘Going to Hell’ by the way. One of the more controversial songs.”, Luke pressed play on the video and already moved the lips to the lyrics.

“Father did you miss me,

Been locked up a while.

I got caught for what I did but took it all in style.

Laid to rest all my confessions I gave way back when.

Now I'm versed in so much worse,

So I am back again, and he said

For the lives that I take, I'm going to hell!

For the love that I make, I'm going to hell!

Gettin' heavy with the devil, you can hear the wedding bells.”

“The guitar you´re hearing is a classic Hank. That guy knows what he´s doing.”, Luke added, seemingly in his element, reminding Spencer a lot of Garcia when she was excited.

Spencer nodded and watched the music video, the overall theme was dark and heavy. [y/n] voice was nice, a little smoky and strong, but everything just sounded so angry. Not really his style, although he preferred older, classical music in general over the ‘normal’ things ‘normal’ people liked. [y/n] wore tightfitting latex, while the men from her band mostly just wore black jeans and shirts, sometimes leather jackets. At one time, she was surrounded by snakes, only wearing white lingerie. She was really pretty, red lipstick making her look like a biting version of Snow White. Like a princess that would rather save herself, becoming the villain along the way, before letting someone else save her.

“Father did you miss me,

Don't ask me where I've been.

You know I know, yes, I've been told I redefine a sin.

I don't know what's driving me to put this in my head.

Maybe I wish I could die, maybe I am dead!

And he said

For the lives that I fake, I'm going to hell!

For the vows that I break, I'm going to hell!

For the ways that I hurt, when I'm hiking up my skirt.

I am sitting on a throne while they're buried in the dirt.

For the man that I hate, I'm going to hell!

Gettin' heavy with the devil, you can hear the wedding bells.”

The lyrics and symbolistic in the video mocked parts of the Christian belief system. Such as the bite Eve had taken from the apple, showing [y/n] taking a bite from the forbitten fruit. The last supper and the crucifixion were shown with a dark twist too. This could be a hint of rebellion, to cope with religious trauma, or simply be a way to cause controversy.

“Please forgive me father,

I didn't mean to bother you.

The devil's in me father.

He's inside of everything I do.

For the lives that I take, I'm going to hell!

For the laws that I break, I'm going to hell!

For the love that I hate, I'm going to hell!

For the lies that I make, I'm going to hell!

For the way I condescend and never lend a hand.

My arrogance is making this head buried in the sand.

For the souls I forsake, I'm going to hell!

Gettin' married to the devil, you can hear the wedding bells.”

As the video ended Luke took his phone and put it back into his pocket.

“Their earlier stuff had a little more emotion to it, was about heartbreak, suffering and made you feel. This is one of the more recent ones and you can hear that it´s now mostly just stuff like sex, drugs and anger. Most people think that´s because [y/n] writes all of their music and she´s…seen better days…”, Luke sighed, trying to make it sound as polite as possible.

“Because she started taking drugs?”, Spencer raised his eyebrows, but Luke shook his head. “Oh, no. She, according to many rumors and an interview with her father, has taken drugs since she was a teen. But at this point…she just simply seems to have given up, having chosen to not go deeper with her songs anymore. I mean, they still slap. They just don’t slap your heart anymore, you know?”

“Not so nice, when your father talks to the press about your addiction. Could her father be a suspect?”, JJ asked, making Luke shrug and shake his head at the same time.

“Most likely not. He said in that interview that he wishes her the best, but doesn’t want to speak to her again.”, Emily mouthed a silent ‘ouch’, the whole talk about the rockstars private life making Spencer think.

“Maybe that´s part why she´s taking drugs? Often people use them to cope with-“, Emily interrupted him, profiling [y/n] and her substance abuse, quickly.

“Reid. We´re not going there to fix her, just the stalking situation.”, he nodded, knowing that he had a savior complex, always trying to help and save everybody.

“Exes?”, Spencer asked and Luke shook his head.

“Just one is known, Dean Lennox, singer, now married with kids. He and [y/n] were together for two years and according to him it was toxic. Like, always fighting, jealousy, distrust, fear of being left but she still didn’t want him close at the same time, lying. After their last breakup, he told a gossip magazine, he just couldn’t watch her destroy herself anymore. She never commented on it.”, JJ looked at Spencer worried.

“She seems like a handful, are you sure you can handle her alone?”, he chuckled while nodding.

“I´ve been through worse. How hard can it be to watch a twenty-six year old? When she, like Luke said, really doesn’t want anyone close, I´ll just sit on her couch and let her do her thing.”

*****

After landing in Los Angeles and checking into their hotel, the team drove to police station. There already waited a massage for them with an address. It was from the manager, he wrote that he was terribly sorry, but they needed to come to the recording studio, since the band was on a tight schedule all morning. Luke had tried his best, but Spencer could see his excitement through his tough-guy-façade. He, JJ, Luke and Emily took one of the SUV´s and drove to the address.

The building they entered was large and with great security. Expensive, white marble flooring in the entire entrance hall. They showed their batches to the lady at the front desk and the security, she called somebody and soon a short, pudgy man, dressed in a designer suit walked out of the elevator and up to them. He smiled at them friendly and shook everyone’s hand.

“Ah, the agents. I am so glad that you´re here. Hi. Hello. I´m Philip Schuyler, the manager of ‘Shot Monarch’.”, Emily shook his hand and pointed at the team.

“Nice to meet you. I´m unit chief SSA Prentiss, those are SSA Jareau, Alvez and that´s Dr. Spencer Reid. He will take on the job as bodyguard for Miss [y/l/n].”, the man scratched his brown hair, avoiding the bald spot on top.

“Yes, uhm, please just call her [y/n]. She really dislikes being called Miss [y/l/n]. We also already have police and security around her house, so I don’t know how important a personal bodyguard is. I really want this case solved and it would be terrible if we would hinder your work.”, Spencer lifted a finger.

“Actually, it would be better if I´m able to stay close to [y/n]. Normal police and security could probably oversee minor details about the stalker, Mr. Schuyler.”, the man waved off.

“Please, Mr. Schuyler was my father. Philip is completely fine. Everybody calls me that.”, he started walking to the elevator and the agents followed him. “Right now the band´s having a little break. After that, we need to record one more song for the ‘live in the studio’-version of their new album, that just came out. Are you familiar with their music?”, they got into the elevator and Luke already nodded.

“Yeah. Really great. Big fan.”, Emily lifted her hand, silencing Luke.

“I´m sorry. If that´s a problem we can-“, Philip laughed, interrupting her.

“Oh, no, no. [y/n] will love that. She likes meeting fans and showing off her music.”

They got out of the elevator, walked through the little hallway and entered the large double door in front of them. There was the recording studio. A lot of technical things, Spencer didn’t know much of, and a large glass wall in front of it, showing another room.

The recording room was large, with a black leather couch and beanbags in it and nice, warm, wooden flooring. A drum set was placed on an vintage looking, red carpet and the overall lighting was warm and inviting as well. The door to the room was open and he could hear the three men, from the band, talking and laughing inside.

“Guys, can you come out for a bit?”, Philip asked them and they looked up, walking up to them. “Okay, uhm, guys, those are the agents from the FBI. You know? The once coming because of [y/n]´s stalker.”, the largest man, a head taller than Spencer, smiled through his long grey beard that contrasted his bald head.

“Nice to meet you then, I´m Hank. That my husband Leroy,”, they shook hands with the dark skinned, skinny man, who in contrast to his husband was cleanshaven, with short black hair and glasses, “and that´s our friend Tom.”, the chubby, white, blond waved at them friendly.

“Why would like to talk with each of you individually, later at the police station, if that is possible.”, Emily said before introducing her team again, also mentioning Spencer´s duty as bodyguard. Leroy grimaced his face.

“Uh, [y/n] will hate that. The girl does not like being babysat.” “I´m not going to babysit her.”, Spencer answered, making Leroy chuckle. “That´s not how she will see it though.”, Hank sighed and put a hand on Spencer´s shoulder.

“Our girl is going through a lot right now. So it would be nice of you, to not take everything she´s saying personally, okay?”

“Personally?”

Spencer raised his eyebrows. He desperately hoped [y/n] wouldn’t be a bitch the entire time, since he couldn’t promise to not give her a piece of his mind, if so.

“[y/n]´s a little belligerent…Easy to get triggered and then she blows up like a bomb.”, Tom said and JJ cocked her head. “Is the stalking getting at her?”, Leroy shook his head. “Not really. But her mother died a few months ago and since then…little rough patch. She´ll get better. We all hit rock bottom once.”

“Is she going to therapy?”, Emily asked straight forward, making Tom, the chubby one chuckle. “Not since she hit the last therapist a few years ago. We paid his medical expenses and he was nice enough to not sue her. But we are here to help her, once she´s ready to let us.” “Must be exhausting, for you.”, JJ said empathetic and all the men waved off.

“Because of the drugs? No, it´s not that bad. She´ll collect herself. I have seven kids. Four of them are going through puberty right now. Phil has a toddler and Leroy and Hank have three rescue dogs and a couple of snakes. We can handle her.”, Tom laughed and the rest of the men started too.

“And that little stalker…Imma just say, I´m gonna rip him a new one, should I ever get the chance of meeting him. Counts for all of us.”, Hank added with everyone nodding in agreement.

“[y/n]´s a really nice girl and she´s been through a lot. If you´re nice to her, chances are high she´ll warm up to you and you won´t have any problems.”, Tom said to Spencer making him nod.

“And if she doesn’t?”, the tall doctor didn’t get an answer and just witnessed the rockers share a look.

Nice girl. Drug issues not so bad. Be nice and maybe she´s nice to you. For Spencer all of that sounded like he would have to walk around on eggshells, while she would blast through walls like a wrecking ball. The manager, Philip, checked his watch and looked around.

“So, where´s [y/n]? One more song and we´re done. Would be great not to hold up the investigation for too long.”

“She went to the toilet thirty minutes ago. We just ate our sandwiches. She said she wasn’t hungry.”, Leroy answered and at the same moment [y/n] walked in.

Spencer looked at her and for a moment forgot how to breathe. Short, high waisted, leather skirt, low cut, tank top and biker boots, all black, rounded off with fishnet stockings. [y/n] looked like she had climbed out of a teenagers wet dream. The perfect, little goth-girlfriend. She stretched a little and Philip looked at her.

“Bonjour, Philly.”, she said with a sassy undertone, while walking up to him and leaning on his shoulder. He was the same high as her, which wasn’t really tall, about 5,4, if Spencer had to guess.

“Hey, where were you?”, the pudgy man asked her.

“Took a nap in my car.”, she booped his nose and gave him a sheepish little smile. Spencer knew she was high. In fact the whole room knew it.

“You drove here?”, Tom asked shocked and [y/n] grinned sarcastically.

“I guess so, else somebody explain to me why my car´s here.”, Phillip patted her shoulder, looking worried as she took four pills out of an orange pillbox from her bag. He gave her a glass of water and she swallowed them. The men from her band looked at her concerned, making her give them a pearly white smile.

“Headache.”, she explained and they only nodded. Spencer couldn’t help but think, that she wasn’t having a headache and even if she had, it was probably a withdrawal symptom.

“You know that I don’t want you to drive when you´re…”, her manager looked at the agents and stopped talking, making her look at them as well.

“What? Why´d you stop talking? That the fun police?”, she started giggling at her own joke, making the band chuckle, since she clearly didn’t know how accurate she was with her joke.

“That´s the FBI, Princess.”, Hank told her and she made a fake shocked face and then laughed again.

“Officer- No wait, agents, right? I swear I did nothing wrong. Weed´s legal in Cali.”

The team shared some looks and Spencer couldn’t help but roll his eyes. [y/n] was not just on weed. Most definitely not just on weed.

“They are here because of your stalker.”, Philip explained and she shrugged almost disappointed.

“Oh, that guy. Well, then hello. Nice to meet you. I´m [y/n].”

She shook hands with JJ and Emily as they introduced themselves. Luke couldn’t help but breathe in sharply, as he shook her hand and almost choked on his own spit as an aftereffect. She started patting his back with wide opened eyes.

“Shit, you okay? Asthma?”, [y/n] reached into her black, designer handbag and gave him a bottle with clear liquid. Luke took a sip, quickly grimaced his face and began coughing harder.

“Vodka.”, he stated through his coughing. [y/n] quickly took the bottle from him and took a sip too, without flinching. She then started cracking up at her mistake.

“Whoops. Mixed up the bottles, the other´s probably in my car. Philly, can you bring him…?”, Philip nodded and gave Luke a fresh water bottle from the mini fridge.

Wow. Vodka hidden in a water bottle. Spencer licked his lips, taking in the view of her bandmates looking at each other. ‘Not that bad’ looked different. ‘Not that bad’ would not have her sleeping in her car, midday, with a bottle of ‘water’ and coming back high as a kite. Luke, by now, had stopped coughing and [y/n] stepped away from him again.

“You good?”, she asked him, watching him wipe away his tears.

“Y-Yeah. Sorry.”, the black haired girl waved him off.

“Nah, don’t worry. I had asthma till I was twelve.”, he shook his head.

“I- I- No asthma. Just a really big fan.”, she started laughing again and although the light was dimmed, Reid could clearly see Luke´s cheeks turning red.

“Oh, that´s cute. But ‘Take My Breath Away’ is by Berlin.”, that sentence actually made the whole room laugh except for Spencer, who didn’t understand the reference. “What´s your name?”

“Luke Alvez.”, she shook his hand again, this time he didn’t almost choke.

“Well, nice to meet you, Luke. What´s your favorite song of ours?”

“25, no doubt. Really amazing. Like a James Bond song.”, the bandmates chuckled.

“We said that too.”, Leroy snickered, patting Luke´s shoulder and [y/n] nodded.

“It´s also my favorite. Excited to hear one of the new songs?”, Luke nodded excited and she turned her head to Spencer. “We both don’t know each other yet. Hi, I´m [y/n] and you are?”

She sounded quite collected. Clearly high, but able to think straight if necessary. [y/n] must´ve been doing this for a while now, seeming to have figured out, how much she could handle while working. Spencer had been at that point too once. You wanted to do your work and be good at it, but needed to be high, to make it through the day. So you just tried over a period of time, bit by bit, how much you were able to take before doing a shitty job. ‘Not that bad’ didn’t make you figuring out a system to be high all the time.

“Dr. Spencer Reid.”, he shook her hand.

“Dr. Reid will be your bodyguard, [y/n].”, Philip explained and quickly earned an angry look, as she let go of Spencer´s hand instantly.

“What? I don’t need a bodyguard, we talked about this.”, she hissed at her manager, but then started laughing after looking Spencer up and down. “And then that guy?”, Philip nodded as she rolled her eyes at him. ‘Do not take it personally’, Spencer told himself.

“I am more than capable of protecting you.”, he stated as friendly as possible, making her giggle.

“From what? A difficult math question?”

[y/n] mocking tone started to piss him off, but as Spencer felt Emily´s look on him, he played it cool. After all, he had to proof himself able to handle her.

“Your stalker.”, he corrected her and she licked her lips, pulling out a pack of cigarettes, looking at Luke.

“Since you don’t have asthma, would you mind if I…?”, Luke shook his head and she smiled. “Nice.”, she looked back at Spencer, at his gun. “Philip has a gun too.” “But Philip isn’t an FBI agent.”, Hank told her, making her shake her head in protest, like a little child.

“That´s ridiculous. And all of that just because a stranger sends me stuff, people send me stuff all the time.”

“You should be more worried about this guy.”, Leroy said and Tom nodded in agreement. “Yeah, what if he´s dangerous?”

“What´s the worst that could happen, like honestly, Doctor?”, she cocked her head at Spencer, looking up at him with an almost flirty smile.

“He could kill you.”, he gave back objectively, making the rockers obviously worried. “Geez. You make that sound like it´s a bad thing.”, she snickered and looked over to Luke. “Luke, wanna hear some music?”, he nodded.

“It would be an honor.”, his sentence made her giggle as she walked past him.

“You´re really cute.”

[y/n] walked into the recording room, Tom, Leroy and Hank following her. She put on her headphones and lit a cigarette, putting the package on the little table next to her mic. Philip closed the door and started pushing some buttons on the sound mixer in front of him. JJ whistled impressed.

“You do the technical stuff too?”, he nodded, chuckling.

“Since the stalking started, I try having as little people near [y/n] as possible. Thought it might just be a little crush from a weirdo and when he doesn’t get to see her, he gets over it.” “We need a list of the people that worked here though.”, Emily told him and he nodded.

“Of course.”, then he pushed a button and started talking into his microphone. “You guys, ready? Last song. ‘My Medicine’, then we can go home.”

They all approved of his words and started to playing. [y/n] relighting her cigarette and clearing her throat. Spencer couldn’t tell if that was her simply not caring or doing it for the feeling of the song. However, it seemed to fit the style.

“Somebody mixed my medicine

Somebody mixed my medicine”

“I love this already.”, Luke whispered and JJ chuckled.

“You haven’t even heard anything yet.”, she snickered.

“Doesn’t matter, the feeling is there.”, he lifted his arms, showing her his goosebumps.

“Well you hurt where you sleep and you sleep where you lie

Now you're in deep and now you're gonna cry

Got a woman to your left

And a boy to your right

You start to sweat so

Hold me tight 'cause

Somebody mixed my medicine

I don't know what I'm on

Somebody mixed my medicine

Now baby it’s all gone

Somebody mixed my medicine

And somebody's in my head again

And somebody mixed my medicine again, again”

Spencer watched [y/n] starting to move to the rhythm, swaying her hips and tapping her left foot to the beat, then looked to Philip pressing some buttons.

“She´s gonna be happy with that one.”, he whispered almost to himself and the next time Spencer looked at the band again, it almost felt like she was attentionally singing in his direction.

“Well I drink what you leak and I smoke what you sigh

See you cross the room with that look in your eye

Got a man to his left and a girl to his right

You start to sweat so

Hold me tight 'cause

Somebody mixed my medicine

I don't know what I'm on

Somebody mixed my medicine

Now baby it’s all gone

Somebody mixed my medicine

Somebody's in my head again

And somebody mixed my medicine again, again”

She started moving her head in a way that made her long black hair fall in her face, framing her features almost delicately. While Spencer starred and earned some grins from [y/n], he could hear Luke whisper with Emily, who actually seemed to like the music too.

“There's a tiger in the room and a baby in the closet”

The room laughed and Spencer looked confused, having JJ tell him, that it was a movie reference. Sometime he felt like an alien, having such simple references fly over his head. Star Trek or Book references would´ve been easier for him…although he still didn’t know what that ‘Twilight’ book was Penelope and JJ talked about a couple of times. Or that other book all the women had talked about in their break….what was it called, ‘Fifty Shades of Grey’? They had told him it was a romance novel, so he just assumed it was like ‘Pride and Prejudice’ by Jane Austen.

“Pour another drink mom I don't even want it

Then I turn around and think I see someone that looks like you”

Philip pressed some buttons again, [y/n] now harmonizing with herself.

“Well you hurt where you sleep and you sleep where you lie

Now you're in deep and now you're gonna cry

Got a woman to your left

And a boy to your right

You start to sweat so

Hold me tight 'cause

Somebody mixed my medicine

I don't know what I'm on

Somebody mixed my medicine

Now baby it’s all gone

Somebody mixed my medicine

Somebody's in my head again again

And somebody mixed my medicine

Again, again, again

Again, again, again”

The music started to slow down again, just like [y/n] movements, making Luke whisper words in awe.

“Somebody mixed my medicine

Somebody mixed my medicine

Somebody mixed my medicine”

Philip and the team applauded as [y/n] took her headphones off and the men put their instruments away.

“I´m happy with that.”, she said looking at Philip. “You, Philly?”

“Sounded great to me.”, he gave back, happy to answer.

“What about my new favorite fan. Luke?”, Luke quickly pushed Spencer aside to get to the microphone.

“Loved every second of it! Like- Amazing! Really!”, she giggled, throwing her head back and came through the door.

“What about my new guard dog?”, Spencer pointed at himself, not knowing if she was talking about him. “Of course you. So, what do you think, Doctor?”

“I- I don’t really know.”, she raised her eyebrows at his answer.

“Okay? Was it the drugs or just the music in general?”, he felt himself go pale. “Ah, okay. You´re prude, get it. I mean you already have that whole tutor-thing about you, so…Bach or Chopin?”

“Pardon?” “Which one? Or is it Mozart, or the deaf bitch, Beethoven?”, she grinned snarky.

[y/n] had a mocking tone in her voice, making Spencer feel embarrassed and like he was in school again, when the other kids in high school were making fun of him for not being cool enough. But he was too old to be bullied by a little junkie, who thought she was better than him.

“I´m surprised somebody like you would even know them.”, her smile vanished.

“Little bitch.”, she snapped at him, stepping closer as he cocked his eyebrows at her. Philip quickly walked between the two of them and smiled.

“So, what are we doing next? The albums done. Taken care of. [y/n] have you eaten something today? You wanna go out for dinner?”

“No, I haven’t and no, I don’t want to, when THAT is around.”, with ‘that’ she clearly meant Spencer.

“Now don’t be grumpy, Princess. You started it.”, Hank told her and she started to pout, shoulders relaxing.

“Wasn’t worth my time anyways.”, she murmured and Spencer felt himself getting proud. This was the first person, trying to bully him, he had stand a chance against.

“So, we´re gonna need you at the police station, if that´s okay?”, Emily asked Leroy, Hank and Tom, who nodded. “And Spencer, you should take [y/n] home and check out her house.” “Mansion.”, [y/n] corrected Emily. “I have a mansion. Worked too hard to have it being called a house.”, Emily only nodded, not letting herself get bothered by her words. Philip nodded, completely ignoring his clients snappiness too.

“I follow you in my car.”, he told Spencer. “[y/n] give Dr. Reid your keys, please.”, she shook her head indignant.

“No. That guy is not driving my car. I´ll drive.”, the whole band now started saying no.

“[y/n], you´re not driving.”, Tom ordered and Leroy nodded. “You´ll get an DUI so quick, it´s not even funny.”, Spencer lifted his hand, waiting for the key. “Oh, come on.”, she groaned, looking at her bandmates like her childish behavior would change their mind.

A nice sound. An annoying person, not getting what they want. Almost as beautiful as her [y/e/c] eyes, that actually were rather bloodshot, when Spencer thought about it.

“Should the police pull you over and see that you´re high, they´ll look through your car and I don’t think you want be taking in custody for drug possession, right?”, she handed him her keys and Spencer couldn’t help it and whispered “Thank you”, in the most mocking tone he was able to.

“Fucking cunt.”, she whispered back at him and he just chuckled.

“I´ve been called worse. So your little words don’t hurt me…sorry.”, she then grinned.

“Things like Spencer?”, [y/n] asked him, spitting his name like poison.

Spencer took a deep breath and watched her go out the door, telling himself to not answer her.

“Hey, kid.”, Spencer looked at Hank and he just lifted his thumb.

“You held yourself better than we thought you would.”, Leroy added, Emily looking at Spencer concerned.

“You sure you can handle her?”

He nodded, walking out the door and to the elevator which doors [y/n] was holding open for him.

“Hurry up, bitch boy! I wanna go home.”

*****

Of course the rich, spoiled brat drove an imported sportscar. When Spencer got in, he firstly had to push back the seat, not having enough room for his legs and then tried getting [y/n] to tell him where she lived.

“Try google, smart ass.”, was her answer and he sighed.

[y/n] then rolled down her window and grabbed a joint from her glove compartment. Spencer quickly leaned over and snatched it from her hand, making her whine as she tried getting it back.

“You´re such a bitch. Give me-“, he interrupted her whining.

“No. First tell me you´re address.”, she sat back into her seat.

“Fine. I´ll lead you there.”, [y/n] said, making grabbing motions with her hand and he handed her the joint back. She lit it and smoked out of the window.

Spencer knew he should have questioned why she gave up and let him win so easily. After ten minutes they weren’t at her mansion, they were at a McDonald´s.

“You´re fucking kidding me, right?”, he snapped at her and she began to giggle.

“You´re kina hot when you´re angry.”, her flirty grin and the way she bit her lip made him furious, because it was hot.

“What is wrong with you?”, Spencer almost yelled and she leaned back and pointed somewhere. “I´m hungry. Drive-Through. Over there.”

“No.” “Come on. Don’t be a bitch, dog.”, she snickered, resting her feet on the dashboard.

He looked at her, for a second thinking about simply getting out of the car and leaving, before he could hurt her. Maybe she was really too much for him to handle, the drugs were manageable, but it was her personality that drove him mad, yet he wasn’t someone to give up easily. Cars started to honk behind them.

“You´re holding up the traffic. I just wanted something to eat.”, [y/n] said, now almost annoyed because she wasn’t getting what she wanted. Spencer took a deep breath.

“Okay.”, she looked at him confused.

“Okay?”, he nodded, pulling into the Drive-Through. He was above this. ‘Give her what she wants, so she´s at least quiet.’

“You win.”

She started clapping and hugged him, smelling like marijuana and something he couldn’t quite make out. When they came up to the microphone box, [y/n] crawled over Spencer´s lap, forcing him to look and think respectfully. She ordering a bunch of stuff and then looked at him.

“What do you want? I only have booze at home, so…”, he looked at her a little startled. Was she trying to be nice to him?

“You wanna buy me something?”, she nodded like this behavior was normal to her. “Sure.”

“Surprise me. I never eat fast food, I don’t know what´s good.”

She nodded and then told the voice from the box to double her order. Sitting back into her seat, [y/n] took out a hundred dollar bill from her purse, handing it to Spencer. When they pulled up by the window, taking their things, the woman in the window nearly lost it when she saw the rockstar, starting to cry. [y/n] was really nice to her and asked her if she wanted to take a photo in the parking lot. Of course the woman said yes and after paying, where [y/n] had left almost fifty bucks as a tip, Spencer had to park and wait till they had made the photo and given an autograph.

“Okay, now drive before it goes viral. I wanna eat that stuff before it gets cold.”, she told him, taking a sip of one of the milkshakes.

“That was nice.”, she shrugged and then told him her address, telling him she´d scream when they reached it.

*****

Lo and behold, no twenty minutes later they parked in front of [y/n] mansion, next to another, more run down car, belonging to Philip. The mansion would´ve made Rossi´s mansion cry. At least twice as big and the property was enormous. In contrast to [y/n], it was very light and minimalistic from the outside and the inside.

“Most rooms are empty. Too big.”, she explained walking straight into the open living area, that had a large terrace with pool and a view over the Hollywood hills. She put the paper bags filled with food on the large kitchen island and sat on a barstool.

“You could sell it and buy a smaller one.”, [y/n] shrugged and took out a burger, starting to eat it.

“Philip says I´m gonna grow into it.”, she answered, mocking the tone of voice her manager had probably had.

Spencer watched her type something on her phone and a minute later Philip came into the room.

“Hey, where were you? I got worried.”, he asked them and [y/n] handed him a salad.

“It´s the one you always have.”, he smiled at her.

“Thank you. You´re so nice.”, she shrugged at his words, not really caring.

“Yours is in here too, dog.”, she now told spencer.

Ah, yes. She was being bitchy again. Spencer had only waited for it to happen. He said nothing, but walked up to the white kitchen isle and took the bag she pointed at.

“Milkshake, burger, fries. Fast food essentials.”, she stated, finishing her small cheeseburger and getting up to her fridge, taking out a beer. She held it to Spencer who declined and then to Philip who did the same. “Lame asses.”, she chuckled, opening it and standing at the counter, watching Spencer eat. “So you´re here for…?”

“Technically it would be the easiest for all of us, if I just stayed.”, she raised her brows.

“Staying like, in my house staying?”, he nodded and she shook her head. “No chance. I enjoy my solitude.”

“[y/n]. If it´s easier for the agent and better for you…”, she sighed, opening a drawer and taking out some pills, swallowing them with her beer. “Fucking hell. But don´t expect me to be considerate of you.”, the rockstar told him.

“Should you consume them with alcohol?”, Spencer asked, taking a bite of his burger and she shrugged.

“I´m going to sleep…you guys…do what you want, I don’t care…”

“Do you need me to do your laundry?”, Philip asked and [y/n] shrugged again, it seemed to be her favorite motion. As she walked down the hallways and Phillip yelled after her. “Don’t forget that you have a gig tonight, [y/n]!”

“THAT`S WHY I`M GOING TO SLEEP NOW, DUMB ASS! WAKE ME UP WHEN WE NEED TO GO!”, she yelled back, followed by the smashing of a door.

“She´s a nice girl.”, Philip said in the middle of the silence, as Spencer took place on one of the barstools.

“Like a car crash.”, the man in his fifties chuckled.

“I know she´s difficult, but in here she´s good.”, he pointed at his heart. “She has suffered a lot of losses in her life.”

“Then, just as a random thought, you should get into therapy before she OD´s.”, Spencer answered sassy.

“I know what you mean. But as long as she doesn’t want help or overdoes it…she has a system.”, Spencer let his head fall back and groaned.

“You know about that fucking thing?” “You too?”, Philip asked back in surprise. “Profiler. Took me no longer than the nap in her car, to figure that out.”

Yes, a small lie from Spencer, but it sounded better then: Oh yes, I was addicted to dilaudid once. I had a system too!

“Tell me, how does that train wreck of a system work?”, Philip leaned back from his salad.

“Well, she takes her painkillers in the morning and smokes some cannabis to get out of bed. When we´re touring or she has to be at shootings, interviews or anything else that needs her to focus, she only smokes and takes the pills all day, alcohol in water bottles is a new one though.”, Spencer sighed and thought if he even wanted to know more.

“And when she´s alone or not busy?” “Then she does the harder stuff.” “Harder stuff like cocaine, LSD…?”, Philip nodded. “Nothing with needles though…she´s scared of them.”

“She will not always be, if she continues like that.” “I know. That´s why I do my best to keep her busy. She even has her own recording studio here, knows how to handle everything herself. I thought it might make her spend more time making music than getting high. I also go out with her a lot, to a point where my wife starts to get jealous.”, he laughed bittersweetly. “Have you ever been to Disney World, agent?”, Spencer shook his head. “I take [y/n] there once a week, because she likes it there. I spend more time with her there then with my own daughter.”, [y/n] was famous, no chance people wouldn’t notice her.

“Does she even get to do anything there?”

“Not often. She mostly meets her fans there, but she loves that a lot. She is really sweet to them too, they mean everything to her.”

That was the first time Philip had said something that was true about [y/n]. She had, not once been mean to a fan. The complete opposite actually. She had been nice and thoughtful, going out of her way to make the woman at the Drive-Through happy and was nice to Luke.

“I know she was a little mean to you today, but she also bought us food, seeing it as a matter of course. There are two sides to every person, like a coin.”, Like a coin, just that [y/n] sides flipped as quickly like one too. Philip sighed and got up from his barstool. “I´ll show you around a little, if you want to.”

Spencer nodded, getting up, following the short man around the house.

*****

[y/n] had been right.

It was way too big and many of the rooms were empty. When Spencer asked Philip about the necessity of such a big mansion, he told him, that he had hoped to motivate [y/n] to have a family one day. But now the only rooms in use were her bedroom, one of the five guest bedrooms, which Spencer got to stay in, the open living area with kitchen and living room, the recording studio and a little library. The latter made Spencer a little jealous. In the middle of the room even stood a white piano with notes on it. [y/n] also had a lot of books, all dusty, because she never read anymore. He would´ve killed to have his own library…she probably didn’t even value what she had.

When they returned into the living area, Philip gave Spencer some spare keys, beginning to clean up a little and putting the food in the fridge. [y/n] didn’t lie, when she said, she only had alcohol at home. JJ came over and brought Spencer his go bag, asking him how it was going. Of course he said he was doing great, but couldn’t help but rant to her about [y/n]´s behavior.

“Well, she is an addict, Spence. You know how erratic some drugs can make you.”, he nodded.

“Yeah, but she really tries pushing me and then, one second to the other, she´s nice and polite. Have you talked to her bandmates?”, JJ laughed.

“Way too long. We had interviews with them and then Luke just couldn’t stop talking to them, he has also taken about a million pictures with them and facetimed Penelope so she could meet them too.”, Spencer chuckled.

“Sounds like they had a good time. Anything else happened? Found out something?”

“[y/n]´s mother was an addict and left the family when she was younger. When she found out her daughter was famous, she got back in touch with her, to borrow money. [y/n] didn’t care and even got her to live with her, in one of the guest bedrooms. She overdosed a few months ago, since then [y/n]´s addiction got worse.”, Spencer´s eyes got wide.

“She didn’t die in the guest bedroom though, right?”

Just as JJ wanted to answer, [y/n] walked in. Philip walking behind her with a duffle bag.

“She died in the bathroom and she didn’t overdose perse, she drowned after falling unconscious in the bathtub, while being high.”, she answered cold, seeming to have overheard their conversation. [y/n] grabbed a beer from the fridge and continued calmly while taking some colorful pills. “I found her. The bathroom that it happened in is always locked. Don´t worry.”, Philip fidgeted a little with his hands, looking for his keys.

“Uh-Uhm. Agents? We need to go. The concert…”

“You coming too?”, [y/n] asked, looking at JJ and she shrugged. “We could also invite the cute one…Luke. It´s about 20.000 people so two more won´t hurt…right Philly?”, Phillip nodded.

“You´re all invited. SSA Prentiss as well.”, he said and JJ smiled at them.

“Thank you. That´s very nice, but I´ll have to talk to them first.”, [y/n] shrugged at that and drank her beer.

“You have my number, just call when you know. We start half past eight.”, Philip then took the empty beer bottle from [y/n] and threw it away. “Show time.”

*****

Half an hour into the concert Luke had shown up, completely hyped.

“What did I miss? We had some ex-staff members to talk to. Did they already play ‘Going to Hell’?”, Spencer nodded. “Argh, dammit. Doesn’t matter, that song´s amazing too.”

During the whole concert Spencer watched [y/n]. The music wasn’t that bad, a little harsh, but it was mix of hard and alternative rock after all. At least that´s what Penelope said, when Luke started facetiming her. After the last costume change, Spencer pulled [y/n] aside. He asked her to not be so ‘touchy’ with her fans. Since she would kneel down and hold their hands. He tried telling her about the risks of having the unsub in the audience, but she only laughed.

“I´ll be as touchy as I want, bitch.”, he started to frown.

“At least don’t stagedive. Luke says you always do that and the risk of the unsub use-“, she interrupted him, wanting to go on stage.

“Fuck off, dog.”, he held her arm, trying to reason with her.

“Can you ple-“, she tried pulling away, like an angry child.

“No.” “Stop being so fuck-“, [y/n] interrupted him again.

“Stop trying to fucking babysit me.”

“I just want to hel-“, she ripped her arm away. “Yeah, fuck you too.”, the rockstar answered, not letting him finish and walked back on stage.

Philip walked up to Spencer, having seem the ordeal of him trying to talk to [y/n] and him now driving the heel of his palm into his eyes. This girl gave him migraines.

“What happened?”, Philip asked and Luke answered for Spencer.

“He told her not to stagedive.”, Philip laughed a little and shook his head.

“Oh yeah. Never tell her what to do. She hates that and then does it out of spite.”

“You don’t say?”, Spencer answered sarcastically.

On stage [y/n] took her microphone, saying something to her bandmates and then smiling sweetly, while talking to her fans.

“This next song is for my lovely new babysitter, who thinks he can tell me what to do.”, the crowd started booing and she laughed. “I know, I know. But it looks like he doesn’t know how things work around here…So I think we have to help him out a little.”

The music started to play and Luke patted Spencer´s arm.

“She dedicates ‘Heaven Knows’ to you! Penny have you heard? She sings ‘Heaven Knows’ for Reid!”

“NO! SHUT UP!”, the blonde on the phone squeaked.

He and Garcia started to freak out while Spencer watched [y/n] clapping her thigh and stomping to the beat.

“Jimmy's in the back with a pocket of high

If you listen close, you can hear him cry

Oh Lord, heaven knows, we belong way down below

Sing it!”

She lifted the mic to her audience she started to sing for her.

Oh Lord, heaven knows, we belong way down below, way down below, way down below

“Judy's in the front seat picking up trash

Livin' on the dole, gotta make that cash

Won't be pretty, won't be sweet

She's just sittin' here on her feet singin'

Oh, Lord, heaven knows, we belong way down below

Go!”

Again her fans obeyed her, Luke and Penelope freaking out next to Spencer. If it wouldn’t have been a moment, were he had to fear which move she had planned next to unnerve him, he might have even enjoyed this song and the involvement of her fans in it.

Oh Lord, heaven knows, we belong way down below

“Sing, oh Lord, tell us so, we belong way down below”

She now looked at him for a moment, while her audience sang. Before, again, walking around the stage, touching her fans hands.

Oh Lord, tell us so, we belong way down below

Way down below, way down below, way down below, way down below

“I've had better days, man, I've seen better days

I've had better ways, man, I know better ways

One, two, three and four, the devil's knocking at your door

Caught in the eye of a dead man's lie

Show your life with your head held high

Now you're on your knees with a head on low

Big man tells you where to go

Tell them it's good, tell 'em ok

Don't do a goddamn thing they say”

Spencer was surprised how well her fans knew her lyrics. She would just have to point at them or lift her mic and they would instantly sing were she stopped. Not missing a beat.

Oh Lord, heaven knows, we belong way down below

Oh Lord, tell us so, we belong way down below

Way down below, way down below, way down below, way down below

“I've seen better ways, and I know better ways

I've seen better days, man, I've got better days”

[y/n] now stood at the edge of the stage, back turned to her audience. She smiled directly at Spencer, fingers held like a gun to her head.

“Gina's in the back with a pocket of high

If you listen close you can hear the cryin'”

At the last word she mimicked shooting herself and let herself fall back into the crowd. Her fans got wild and continued her song, while Spencer certainly not in a long time, if ever, felt so much spite and frustration against a woman, other than Cat Adams.

Oh Lord, heaven knows, we belong way down below

Oh Lord, tell us so, we belong way down below

Singin' oh, Lord, heaven knows, we belong way down below

Oh, Lord, tell us so, we belong way down below

The crown placed [y/n] back on her stage, where she walked up to her bandmates again, waving at Spencer and Luke with the sweetest smile.

Way down below, way down below, way down below, way down below, way down below

*****

After the concert and the encores she and the band got behind stage, where Spencer for the least thirty minutes had waited to give her a piece of his mind. As [y/n] giggled and walked up to him and Luke. He grabbed her arm, a little harsher than planned.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?”, she blinked at his yelling, answering with her innocent eyes blinking and a mocking tone.

“What´s the prob, dog?”

“What´s- Do you really care so little for your own safety?”, Hank came up to them, having seen Spencer´s grip on the girls arm.

“Hey! What´s going on here? [y/n], are you okay?”, Spencer quickly let go of her.

“Yeah, the dog is just pissing himself because I stage dived.”, he quickly took a deep breath.

“I´m not pissing myself, [y/n], but I told you not to do it. What would you have done when your stalker would´ve been in the crowd and lost it? Nobody would´ve been able to get to you fast enough and help!”, Hank looked at her in disappointed shock.

“Is that true, [y/n]?”, the black haired girl ignored her friend and just continued arguing with Spencer.

“Well, maybe I don’t want anybody’s help!”, she hissed at Spencer.

“Then why are we even here?”, Spencer hissed back. “BECAUSE I BRING MONEY! Else the label would let me rot in a fucking corner! GOD! You are ruining my after-show-high. I hate you!”, [y/n] yelled and Spencer tried not to yell back, tried to be the bigger person, only hissing back at her.

“Oh, trust me. That feeling is mutual.”, she swallowed hard and then turned around, stomping away.

*****

After half an hour waiting, Spencer got a call from Philip, telling him that [y/n] refused to see him again and would be sleeping at his house tonight. He told him, that he should just let himself into the mansion and eat what´s in the fridge. It wasn’t from use, to try talking to [y/n], when she was that angry. Tomorrow Philip would call him and bring her back into Spencer´s care.

Spencer did as told, Luke driving him to the mansion, telling him that it wasn’t his fault. He then got into the large, empty mansion and grabbed himself a well-deserved beer. Being alone in this big house was depressing. After his third beer he stopped, walking into his room.

He pulled his blue and gold sobriety token, he had gotten for being clean ten years, out of his bag. Thumb rubbing over the golden X in the middle of it. He actually had deserved a twelve year token by now, but since prison didn’t actively attended the meetings anymore, having grown past it. Yet, he still kept the tokens he had, close to him.

They reminded him of his achievement, reminded him to be proud at himself.

Spencer never wanted to fall back into the dark hole he was in, when he was addicted, and even when [y/n] would throw tantrum after childish tantrum, she wouldn’t cause him to relapse. He was stronger than this. Stronger than her.

To be continued...

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#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #dr spencer reid #post prison spencer #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds #spencer reid angst #angst #reid x you #spencer x y/n #criminal minds x y/n #spencer reid reader insert #spencer x reader #reader insert #spencer reid x you #rainincaliforniaff

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subbing-for-clones · 4 years

Text

The New Apprentice Part 2

Maul x Sith!Reader

WARNINGS: attempted rape, violence, fluff

Word Count: 2.7k

PREVIOUS NEXT MASTERLIST

Weeks had passed since you had impressed your master with the taming of two Rancor and the killing of one. It was also the last day you had impressed him. Coming to the realization that you were in fact an incredibly gifted force user, you left much to be desired when it came to your saber skills despite being well versed in hand-to-hand combat and the use of other weapons. He hadn't even trained you himself yet, leaving Savage to help you with the basic forms. You were getting better but your master had told you he wouldn't spar with you until you could best his brother.

The two of you clashed your weapons together in the morning chill after your daily strength training. You were faster but he was stronger and had more practice. "You're blocking your mind little one," Savage instructed. "Use your foresight." He was heaving and you swore his eyes were clouding. Maul watched with his hands behind his back. Savage's eyes fluttered and he shook his head growling for a moment. He charged you but before he could collide, you stepped to the side, jumping up and giving him a strong spin kick to the head. Your attack was successful to a point, you impaled your foot on one of his horns.

Not allowing yourself to cry out you took advantage of his stumble and attacked again, kicking him straight in the chest, forcing his body to collapse. He lay still under your foot, the tip of your saber inches from his face. Maul called out to you both.

"Well done. As usual, I have notes but you may congratulate yourself on your first win." Smiling confidently, you sheathed your weapon, removed your foot and extended your hand to the man you had grown close with.

You and Savage became fast friends, you made him laugh hard with your quick wit and rather goofy sense of humor while he reassured you when you were feeling in over your head. He was much kinder than his appearance led most to believe. This fact alone was proof he had lived a very different life than that of his brother. He smiled up at you with pride as he took your hand but that smile disappeared quickly.

His pupils dilated, his breath quickened and a deep groan you hadn't heard before erupted from his chest. Grinding his teeth, the grip on your hand tightened. Maul sensed what was going on and quickly strode over. Before he could reach you Savage pulled you down to him. He rolled so you were beneath him, caged by his massive body. You didn't recognize the eyes that he bore into yours. Usually soft and smooth like honey, now burned like hot twin suns.

Before he could rip away your tunic Maul extended his hand and force pulled you over to him. Savage didn't hesitate to give chase roaring in frustration. Maul defensively wrapped an arm around your waist and twisted his body slightly so he stood between the two of you. He pulled you tightly to him and ignited his weapon to protect you from the monster his brother had become. Maul was fuming, teeth bared and snarling. His grip around you was bruising as if trying to pull you into himself. It was impossible not to smell him, that smokey, woody, sweet musk you had come to secretly favor and be comforted by. Distracted for only a second you snapped out of it. Fear taking over your body again at the sight of Savage who had devolved to an enraged animal.

These were not the men you had come to know and admire. They were wild beasts. Your master murmured aggressively, "Savage... brother... control yourself." Giving him a chance. Ignoring his brother's warning Savage ignited his own weapon and lunged towards you. Blocking it with ease, Maul relinquished his hold around you and pushed you fully behind him keeping himself between you and Savage.

You sat in disbelief at the events that unfolded in front of you. The two brothers raged against one another in a flurry of quick blows and ferocious roars. You ran towards the rancor you had ended up keeping and watched the battle from his back. You rubbed his head to sooth your frightened nerves as you took in the battle. Savage was sloppy but powerful and Maul was calculated, trying not to harm his brother permanently. They clashed until Maul landed a blunt blow with the hilt if his saber to Savage's jaw; knocking him unconscious. He wasted no time and hurriedly loaded his form onto the ship before addressing you.

"Stay with your beast, I will return to you before the day is over. Do not leave this place." He shouted, eyes damn near vibrating out of his head with fury. You nodded and watched as he flew off but not up to space rather, over somewhere.

~~~~~

Maul could feel your heart break from the cockpit as he took flight. It was a pain he swore to himself you wouldn't have to feel as his apprentice. Betrayal. Destruction of trust, a pain he had known time and time again. An unnecessary one. He glared at his brother's unconscious body. It wasn't entirely his fault. He had been thrown head first into a powerful heat cycle. It was however his fault that he couldn't control it long enough to tell him so he could get him away from you. He wouldn't have let you spar him if he had known this was coming. An already physical and intimate act fueled his hormones. He cursed himself for putting you in that kind of harm’s way.

Maul reached his destination. Out of the fog he could see Mother Talzin standing tall, as if awaiting their arrival. He greeted her first as Savage was still unconscious. She extended her arms toward Maul and spoke with an eerie vibrato.

"My son. I see you are in need of some assistance with your brother."

"Yes mother, he is experiencing an unusually brutal cycle and attacked our new companion. May I leave him in your and the sisters’ care."

"But of course. I'm sure there is a sister or two that would accept him in this state."

Nodding, Maul brought out his brother to find one of the pale sisters garbed in red already awaiting them with a mischievous glint in her eyes.

"He will be delivered when his time is done." The sister hissed. "I sense this will be a long bout for him." Maul nodded hesitantly and left just as brother was waking up. The last thing he saw was Savage grab the woman before he disappeared.

His brow creased, eager to get back to you and assure himself that you were alright.

When he arrived back at camp in the forest, he took a deep breath and disembarked. If the circumstances were different, he would have smiled at you. Your rancor was laying down with its enormous head on your legs, growling affectionately. With one hand you stroked what you could reach of its mighty jaw. You had pulled the hem of your master's tunic you still wore over your nose inhaling his scent deeply. You had tried to wash his smell out of it but never could, now you were thankful for that small detail. It comforted you in this moment while you told yourself not to cry. Sith don't cry.

Maul approached you treading lightly not knowing how to breech this conversation.

"My dear..."

The rancor lifted his head snarling viciously at your master. He raised his brow as you slowly stood and placed both of your hands on the monster's face giving it an affectionate smooch. "Shh shh it's alright my sweet baby Angel." You cooed and hugged the beast you had hilariously named 'Angel'. Well, you and Savage thought it was funny at the time. You frowned at the memory but your tenderness appeased Angel. He laid his head back down and you turned to face your Master with shame. His heart panged as you wouldn't meet his eye for a moment.

"Please Y/N..." he begged. He didn't use your name often, usually referring to you simply as 'apprentice' or the ever-occasional changing pet names in more casual moments.

"That wasn't your fault. I'm sorry Savage attacked you. The nightsisters are taking care of him." You finally met his gaze with a snap at the sound of that. "You left him with them, after what they did to him?" Maul was surprised you came to his brother's defense.

"I assure you he gave no protest." Not realizing that his brother had confided in you. "And that he would rather be with them than to hurt you."

"I'm not ignorant." You interjected. "I read about Dathomirians on the holo-net shortly after coming here. I know he's in his heat cycle I just didn't... I didn't..."

"Expect it to be so violent?" Maul offered.

"Yeah... is it going to be like that every time? Are you going to get like that?" Your fists clenched and tears gathered on the bottom of your lashes but once again you fought them. Maul could feel your rage burning inside you like a furnace. He seethed at the idea of someone taking you like that. Let alone his own brother's intoxicated attempt.

Maul extended his hand out to you. Remembering how closely he held you. How ruthlessly he defended and protected you, you took his hand and allowed him to pull you closer.

"If you know what the nightsisters did to him then you know he was gruesomely altered against his will... What you witnessed tonight is not how it usually is. It is controllable and I swear on my life I will never harm you in that way. I will separate him from us next time before it takes hold; I promise you. Please believe me."

You looked into your master's eyes not knowing what to make of the care, of the softness he was showing you. He has never been cruel but ever so distant, professional even. He’s being so kind, so tender with you; his eyes screaming desperately for you to believe him.

"I believe you master."

With an audible sigh of relief, he looked down and was reminded how you had wounded your foot during your fight. "I think we should take the rest of the day, get some food in you and get that cleaned."

"That sounds good."

You turned around and limped your way back to a worried Angel, whispering something inaudible to your master's ears. The beast grunted in understanding and gave you a light bump with its head that almost sent you flying but did make you laugh. You watched as he walked off into the forest, disappearing into the fog.

Maul guided you back to the ship with his hand on your lower back and into the fresher. He sat you down and knelt, taking the ankle of your injured foot delicately in his hand and dabbed a warm wet rag on it. You tried your best to stifle the blush but to no avail. He could feel your pulse quicken but didn't sense that it was fear so he ignored it.

"What was it that you said to the beast?"

Trying to lighten the mood you smiled, "His name is Angel." You stated matter-of-factly. "I could tell he was getting hungry so I told him to go hunt. I'm sure he will be back by morning." Maul contemplated what you said while diligently and softly tending your wound.

"I know I asked you to bring me a rancor but... why do you keep it around?"

You thought about your answer for a moment because you felt like it would lead to another question. You decided to dive head first into the conversation.

"He's a good boy. When I found him he was in pain. I didn't understand how but I knew the other one caused him distress so to get them both to follow me back here I told them each I'd kill the other. I lied to one and told the truth to my Angel. I didn't 'force tame' them. I connected with them. Now he feels safe around me. Besides," you continued. "I like his company while I meditate."

Maul thought about what you said and chuckled in a low tone. "For a Sith apprentice you sure do have a soft side. How do you manage that and keep such a strong connection to the darkness?"

He lifted and examined the rest of your exposed leg to check for any other scratches. Your blush slightly deepened. "I'm not sure you want the answer to that question."

"Well, my curiosity was piqued but now I'm intrigued... Go on."

"I've felt the pull of the dark side of the force as long as I can remember and although my rage and fear did fuel it, so did my love, my determination, and in more ways than one, my utter joy." You paused because Maul had stopped and was looking at you. You continued, "as long as I've been able to feel it, it never felt evil or like hatred. It felt like passion. A blinding, all consuming passion and will to live on so I could feel more of it and everything that came with."

That was not an answer that Maul had expected but he thought he understood. It was different for him but he accepted your answer and replied, "so that's why the jedi wouldn't take you and possibly why it's so strong within you. Every emotion you have fuels your power whether it's a positive one or a negative one... fascinating." He continued to wrap your foot while you stayed silent. "I'm not sure I've ever done anything kind."

This statement caused you to burst into laughter. He gave you a confused and inquisitive look. "You do realize that while you say that you're tending my wound despite the fact that I could've done that myself easily. You also... oh I don't know... rescued me from slavery and protected me from Savage during his hormonal rampage. You've been incredibly kind.... at least in my opinion... you make me feel safe master... safer than I have in quite some time..."

Maul silently gulped, fighting the heat that spread across his cheeks. It was the only time in his life he was specifically thankful that his skin was crimson.

Everything you had said to him that night continued to ring in his mind to the point he was tossing and turning. Knowing he wouldn't find sleep he made his way to the common room for a glass of water. That's where he found you, wrapped in his long black hooded cloak asleep in one of the chairs. He stared at you dumb-founded. Here was this beautiful woman, dressed in his tunic, wearing his cloak because he made her feel safe. Fuck he thought. She probably didn't want to sleep above Savage's bed tonight.

He tried to think of something to do. He didn't really want to leave you there on the chair so he made a rash decision. He scooped you up into his arms and carried you to his bedroom. His hearts raced when you buried your face into his neck in your sleep. He laid you down as softly as he could and pulled the thin blanket over you.

He crawled onto his side and lay facing away from you. Unease in his belly, wondering if you'd be angry at his purposeful attempt to be soothing. He closed his eyes and heard your voice in his mind. ‘You saved me... You've been incredibly kind... you make me feel safe.’ He never thought anyone could think like that about him. He rolled over and cautiously snaked his arm around your middle. To his secret delight he felt you wiggle back against him and murmur, "thank you master." Before your slow breathing continued signaling your fast return to sleep.

Perhaps just for tonight he'd let himself enjoy something. He gripped you tighter and buried his face in your hair. Hoping against hope and all reason that somehow the sun wouldn't rise in the morning and he could stay like this as long as possible.

#star wars maul #darth maul #maul x y/n #maul x reader #sith reader #sith apprentice #sith warrior #starwars au #star wars

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connordavidscamera · 4 years

Text

Slow Burning Love | Connor Brashier

A/n: okay this is literally from March and I don’t even remember writing this, but I’m a sucker for friends to lovers so this is what we’ve got.

Summary: Everyone knows that Connor and y/n are more than friends. It’s time they admitted it to themselves

Warnings: fluff, alludes to smut

Word count: 2.5k

***

It’s a familiar thing. Maybe not for everyone, but it’s familiar for me. You know, when you’re in between with someone. You’re not quite a couple, but you’re not just friends. But you don’t want to put a label on it because that gives it the opportunity to be bad. The opportunity to end. So it’s easier to just not think of it as a relationship. Even if you are technically, maybe, kinda, not really seeing each other. Seeing each other and no one else. But you’re not exclusive.

Yeah, that’s what Connor and I have been dealing with for I’d say about six years now. Since we were fourteen years old, and he was dared to kiss me in a god awful game of truth or dare that neither of us wanted to play. But we were pushed into the room with six of our other friends who were far too excited to see us kiss. It was a first for both of us. And I don’t know how it worked, but from there it was kind of an unwritten rule. I was his and he was mine, but we weren’t each other’s. It made absolutely no sense and it still doesn’t, if I’m being quite honest.

We’ve hooked up a couple handfuls of times. And I can admit that I’ve only had sex with one other guy besides him. It was a one night stand sometime during my first semester of college. The guy only lasted about five minutes and I was forced to get myself off after he left. Connor took every opportunity to make fun of the incident, and if I didn’t know any better, I’d say it’s because he’s proud. Proud that he’s the only guy to have ever gotten me off. (Four times in one night, during one of our particularly needy fucking sessions.) But since we’ve only had sex five - okay, twelve, but who’s counting? - times, you can’t exactly call us fuck buddies because it isn’t a normal enough occurrence. We’re friends. Best friends. Best friends who have really enjoyed hearing our names slip from the other’s lips in a state of bliss.

“I think your hair’s brushed now,” Connor says, coming into view behind me. I set my brush on the counter and smile sheepishly.

“Just wanted to make sure.”

He nods. “I like the dress. But it’s getting a little chilly out.”

“Well then my best friend will give me his jacket, won’t he?” I tease, splitting my hair into three parts so I can braid it messily.

“Who said I was bringing one?”

I roll my eyes, “You always have one in your backseat. Except for the one time where you had, gasp, two!”

He chuckles and bumps my hip with his, taking up the other half of my mirror to fix his messy hair. “What do you think? Do I look sexy?” He wiggles his eyebrows suggestively and I can’t help but laugh.

“Always,” I answer because it’s true. “Which perfume?” I tilt my chin toward my small area of perfumes on the corner of the counter.

“Which one smells like vanilla?”

“They all kinda smell like vanilla,” I tell him.

“No, it’s like a dark vanilla. It’s kinda seductive.”

I laugh. Seductive vanilla? What is this boy on tonight? “Black bottle,” I say, because even with his horrible description, I know exactly which one he’s talking about. I’ve become well versed in Connor speak over our sixteen years of friendship.

He reaches for it and pops the cap off, taking a sniff from the spritzer. He nods approvingly, “That’s the one.”

I tie the elastic around the end of my braid and take the bottle from his hand. Spraying myself a couple times. “Is that enough?”

He places his hands on my hips and inhales behind my ear, his eyes closed. If I’m not mistaken, I think I hear a groan escape the back of his throat. “Perfect.” He pulls away and leans back against the wall. “Are we going in your car or mine?”

I shrug, “Doesn’t matter. You’re driving either way.”

“We’ll take mine then. You almost ready?”

“I just need my shoes.” I slip past him and skip to my closet. “You said it was gonna get cold?” I yell from my spot, not realizing that he followed me into my room and is now laying on my bed, phone in his hands. “Yeah. Little bit. So I wouldn’t wear sandals.”

“Pink low tops?” I ask, holding them up to my dress. “They match the flowers.”

He chuckles, “You’re the cutest thing. Yeah, baby. Those look good.” He sits up. “Hey, what mood are we in today?”

“Why?” I grab a pair of no show socks from my drawer and walk over to sit next to him. I set my shoes in his lap.

“So I know what playlist we need for the drive.”

I hum, “I don’t know. What are you feeling?”

He gives me the look. The one that says “are you seriously asking me that question?”

I roll my eyes, taking a shoe from him and untying it. “Tame Impala. I know.”

“What were you playing in the bathroom? Was that Halsey?”

I nod and take my other shoe from him. “Yeah. I’ve been binging her discography again.”

He nods, “Alright, then I know just what we need.”

“Who’s all going to this again?” I ask once we’re in his car and he connects his phone.

“Honestly? I’m not even sure anymore. Shawn for sure, which means Brian too. I don’t know. My guess, there’s gonna be at least ten of us.”

---

There were more than ten. I didn’t know a good two thirds of them, but Connor was familiar with them which made me feel a little more at ease. But he’s somewhere near the water talking to a couple of guys so I wander, finding my way over to Shawn who’s strumming his guitar by the fire the group had started once the sun set.

“Leave it to Mr. Rockstar to bring his guitar to the bonfire,” I tease, sitting next to him.

“Would you expect anything less from me?” He asks with his award winning smile and stops strumming.

“Absolutely not.”

“You having fun? Where’s Brashier?”

“Talking to some guys over there,” I tilt my head in their direction and Shawn nods.

“Why aren’t you together?”

“We’re not together all the time,” I say.

“No,” he agrees. “But most of the time. Which leads to my next question. Why aren’t you together?”

I scoff and take a sip of my drink, suddenly wishing I had taken Sam up on his offer when he tried handing me a rum and coke that was definitely more rum than coke. “Because we’re not like that.”

“That’s not true.”

“And how do you know that, Mendes?”

“Because I see the way he looks at you. And the way you look at him. Neither of you are good at hiding it. You’re constantly eye-fucking each other. I’d be surprised if you haven’t fucked already.”

I take another drink, not dignifying him with a response, but he takes it as one.

“You have, haven’t you?” he chuckles. “Man, no wonder he never got laid on tour,” he mumbles that second part. I don’t think I was meant to hear it.

I shake my head, “Whatever. What were you playing before I interrupted?”

He smirks, “You know the song ‘what ifs’ by Kane Brown?”

I nod, “Yeah. That didn’t sound like it though.”

“Well it’s a very stripped down version of it,” he says. “Do you know it enough to sing it with me?”

I glare at him. “Did Connor tell you I could sing? Because he’s an ass and I cannot.”

He nods, “He did. He also showed me a video. You’ve got pipes.”

I gasp, “He has a video?!”

“He has multiple,” he confirms, nudging my leg with his. “Come on, sing it with me.”

I sigh, “Okay. Let me just pull the lyrics up. I’d rather not mess up horribly.”

“Alright. You’ll come in on the second verse.”

“Okay. Play it, Mendes.”

He starts strumming and now it sounds a little more like the song, I’ll admit. I don’t know how he does it, but he can play anything. “You say what if I hurt you / what if I leave you / what if I find somebody else and I don’t need you.” He’s only a few bars in and our crowd is already starting to assemble, making me way more nervous than I should be. But I mean, come on. I don’t usually sing around people I don’t know. “You say what if I break your heart in two then what / well I hear you girl / I feel you girl / but not so fast / ‘fore you make your mind up I gotta ask,” he tilts his head toward me, signaling for me to join in.

“What if I was made for you and you were made for me / what if this is it / what if it’s meant to be / what if I ain’t one of them fools playing some games”

I take in a breath when the chorus ends and my eyes catch sight of Connor who’s standing in front of us, his phone out, recording. I stick my tongue out at him which makes him smile and do the same, but he doesn’t stop recording. I take another deep breath and look down at the lyrics, knowing that it’s just my turn now. Shawn gives me an encouraging nod and I take a leap of faith, diving in.

“What if the sky falls / or the sun stops burning / we can worry about the what ifs ‘til the world stops turning / or I could kiss you / what if you liked it / well we ain’t ever gonna know unless we try it,” and he’s back in it with me and I think I can breathe again knowing that not everyone’s eyes are solely on me. But I do feel one pair. And they belong to a boy with blue eyes, perfectly tousled hair and a phone pointed only at me. They belong to my best friend.

My best friend who’s looking at me in a way that no best friend should. My best friend who is making my face burn from his stare. The stare that’s making me rub my thighs together because I’m suddenly imagining those eyes on me while we’re in bed and he’s between my legs, making me feel things that only he can make me feel.

Damn him for being so so good between my thighs.

I don’t notice that Shawn and I are no longer singing. Or that Connor’s now putting his phone back in his pocket. I don’t notice that I’m getting up, walking around the fire, determined to get to my favorite blue-eyed boy. And I definitely don’t let myself notice how he shivers when my hand latches to his bicep.

“You okay?” he asks, his face etched with concern.

“Take me home,” I beg, pushing myself into his side

“What’s wrong?” He places his hands on my waist, staring intently at my face and then down my body, looking for any signs of physical harm, I assume. “Are you okay?”

“Bubba,” I beg again, resting my forehead against his chest. He stiffens. He knows that tone. He also knows that I only use that name when I’m needy. And god am I so needy for him. “I want you. I need you,” I whisper, my other hand tangling in the tufts of hair at the nape of his neck.

“Are you sure?” He’s still looking me over, making absolutely sure I’m not physically hurt. But then he’s looking around us, probably noticing that most everyone’s eyes are on us - not that I expected anything less.

“Bubba, please. Please.” I bring his face down and I do something I would never do in public. I kiss him. I kiss him like it’s the last thing I’ll ever do. I kiss him like he’s the oxygen I need to survive, and not to be dramatic, but at this moment, I think he is.

And he kisses me back with just as much fervor. "Okay. Let's go home, baby."

Neither of us bother to say our goodbyes, mostly because anyone we would say bye to already had their eyes on us. They saw everything and you couldn’t mistake the beaming smiles coming from Shawn and Brian as we walked past them, Connor’s arm wrapped tightly around my waist.

“Wait, Connor.” I press a hand to his chest when we reach the car.

“What is it, baby?”

God he needs to stop calling me that because I will melt right here before I even get the words out. “I don’t,” I sigh. “I don’t want this to just be another hookup,” I say, my voice coming out just above a whisper.

“I don’t either,” he responds without hesitation.

“You don’t?” I look up at his beautiful eyes that are sparkling in the moonlight.

He shakes his head before resting it on my shoulder. “I’ve wanted you since I was fourteen years old. Nothing,” he groans, peppering kisses to the side of my neck. “Nothing has changed.”

I gasp when his teeth graze my skin. “I want you. I want you.” He licks a stripe over the bruising spot. “I want you,” He mumbles, pressing his hips against mine so I can feel the bulge in his jeans.

“Take me home, Connor. Please.”

“Okay. Okay. Let’s go.” He opens the car door and I slip inside, desperate to get back to my place because I need him. I’m aching for him. And with the way his hand is firmly gripping my thigh the whole drive I wonder if I’ll even be able to make it home.

He’s barely parked before we’re both rushing out of the car and into my place, his hands on my hips, his lips on my neck. When we finally get inside, he kicks the door shut before pushing me against it. “Baby, I need you to tell me that this is what you really want. Because I can stop now and we can -”

“I don’t want you to stop. I never want you to stop. Please,” I tug on his hair, covering his lips with mine. “Bubba please,” I whine, pulling on his bottom lip. “I want you,” I say for probably the thousandth time tonight.

He groans and grips my hips a little tighter. “You have me,” he confirms. “Let me take you to bed,” he mutters and drops his hands to the back of my thighs, lifting me up.

I squeal, wrapping my legs around his waist.

“You’re in for a long night, baby.” He grins walking us to my bedroom

I nod, “Promise?”

He smirks, dropping me on my bed. He’s pulling my shoes off and then he’s between my legs, his jeans rubbing against my covered heat, causing me to moan out loud. “You won’t be able to walk tomorrow,” he says. “I can promise you that.”

***

I hope you enjoyed! Please like, reblog, and leave feedback!!

Permanent tag: @soyalimoncada-blog @tinycertain @magcon7280 @homeofpoetry @fallinallincurls @goldenflickerx @sinceweremutual @myyohmyuohmyy @harry-hollands @enchantingbrowneyedgirl @baroness-alison @lostinmendess @linanilssonfurberg @luvluvxx @mariamuses @shawnieeboyy @divinginfearlessly @mendesficsxbombay @shawnsthighs @zaahidahhh @adelaidestreets @shawnandconnor @shawnsblue @turtoix @honestlyimstilllivinginthe90s

Connor tag: @gangofhoes @verlaneswiftie13

#connor brashier #connor brashier x reader #connor brashier x y/n #connor brashier imagine #connor brashier imagines #connor brashier fanfiction #connor brashier blurb #shawn mendes #shawn mendes fluff #Shawn Mendes Imagine #shawn mendes fanfiction

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passable-talent · 4 years

Note

what about,,, modern au,,, punk mucisian au,,,, anakin with tattoos pLEASE

may I introduce u to my new favorite gif...

also. plot twist! what if,, and hear me out,, you’re the musician, and he’s the fan?

i made an entire setlist for this fuckn au of my taste in punk-ish rock-ish music to base certain lines, moods, and lighting off of. it exists. i’ll hand it over if you ask.

stumbled over this headcanon as i wrote but,,,, modern au anakin absolutely grew up in nevada. desert. middle of nowhere. close to vegas and the racing. automobile industry. thank u for ur time

This whole ‘music’ thing was actually working out. Imagine that.

You were gaining fame slowly- your record company still didn’t get you big gigs, but you got something.

Something like this, in fact. A small, dingy laser tag place, but it was perfect nonetheless. Perfect for you. You felt right at home- it was too hot, and the audience was still loud, since the music hadn’t started. The stage was small, but the lights were bright, and you were standing behind the curtains that had been hung barely a foot from the wall.

“Ready?” you heard Padme ask- Padme, the lead guitarist, your best friend. She was on stage, currently, hidden from the crowd by a blanket of black. On the other side of the stage, you knew, was Ahsoka, the drummer, a little tiny teenager you’d picked up last summer when your original drummer quit, and beside her was undoubtedly Aayla, your bassist. You were lucky- you were surrounded by such great friends that you could pull your weight without having to play the guitar. Which was good for everyone- you were an awful guitar player.

“Anytime, loves,” you said, a smile lighting your lips. You’d almost overdosed on the anti-anxiety pills this morning- the feeling of playing a gig still unfamiliar and nerve wracking.

But you heard the music start, and started to sing.

Only when this particular song really kicked into gear did you toss open the curtain, and the cheer went up, almost drowning out the music. You were certainly the fan favorite of the band, only because you were the most expressive. You didn’t have an instrument, so you got to run around on stage, and kneel down to reach out, brushing your fingers to the crowd’s as you sang, like God to Adam.

It really wasn’t a looks thing- for some, it might be, but not to most. Hey, if there was anyone that should really get the attention, it was Padme. She was unfairly beautiful.

The great thing about being a punk artist was that most of your fans were, too. They came with their tattoos and snuck in their weed, their ripped jeans always leaving with a few more holes than they arrived with. A band like yours, so dominated by women, had really caught on with a female crowd, but there were always guys here, too. You never really cared to know if it was their dicks or their ears that brought them.

There was a little bit of a problem, though. You were well known for trying to make connections with as many fans as you could- not for your sake, but for theirs. You loved taking selfies, touching their fingers, winking at them during a particularly suggestive lyric, guys and girls alike. Which lead to a little problem, one that Ahsoka loved to refer to as your ‘wattpad fantasy’.

Growing up when you had, you’d all been all over the internet, into each of its corners. You knew the common trope that teenaged fans had with their favorite artists- that they’d catch the eye of the main singer, and get dragged backstage after the show.

You had the opposite fantasy. Too many times did one or another audience member catch your eye, and yeah, sometimes you did consider catching them before they left after the show. It never worked- either you lost track of them, or you didn’t have the guts to go through with it.

When you laid eyes on him, though, you wanted so desperately to go through with it tonight.

You tried not to be obvious, you really did try to be subtle- but whenever the multicolored lights caught his hair, your gaze was pulled back to him, no matter how much you wanted to give equal attention to every audience member brave enough to wrestle their way to the front row.

But you also wanted to make sure he knew. That you’d noticed him.

With one or two lyrics, lines like “tell me that you love me, even if it’s only for tonight”, you let your eyes catch his, hoping to whatever powers there might’ve been that he’d be looking back at you.

The halftime break, the intermission, came faster than expected, and you dropped into the one room the laser tag place set aside for you, and tried to clean as much sweat from your scalp and hair as you could.

“Alright, what is it?” Padme asked from behind you.

“What to you mean?” you asked, glancing at her through the mirror you were using to try to artfully smudge your eyeliner.

“You’re favoring the left side of the audience. What, find a wattpad boy?”

“Another one?” Ahsoka called from the other side of the room, rubbing sore callouses on her palms.

“Yeah, yeah,” you waved them off with a laugh, “let me dream.”

Act II came around, and back to the stage you went, trying to be even more subtle this time around. Still, you kept track of him- he hadn’t moved far. Maybe, if you watched him carefully enough, you’d get to meet him before he left.

It was hard to do, and you hadn’t yet been successful. You really weren’t supposed to offer fans any ‘free’ attention, or at least, that was the way your manager had put it. If you let everybody take a picture with you, then no one will buy backstage passes.

A sentiment that your anarchist side absolutely resented. Fuck capitalism, you wanted to chill with your fans.

But hey, back on topic! It was amazing how you could totally tune out during a song, and tune back in, still strutting around the state, still singing perfectly. Luckily, you’d brought yourself back to reality, right when the second to last song was about to end.

When it faded away, you stepped to the center of the stage, readjusting your mic quickly and letting a real smile come over your face.

And this- this was it. No matter how fantastic any show was, it would never top this. You always went out with the same song, way back from your first album, one of the first you’d ever written. You heard Padme start to strum.

“And with that, we’re coming to the end,” you said over the guitar, speaking to the audience like you knew every person there. “So I want you to all sing along with this one. Every damn word. Because tonight- this is a night none of us are going to forget.” You’d said it a hundred times, and yet, you meant it every time. When you stopped speaking, you started singing, abandoning your strutting and stomping for just standing at the front of the stage, looking at them all.

“It was a fall night, late night-” There was a reason you always ended with this song. It was so beautiful, and so sensual. It was a promise, between you, and your band, and your fans, a promise that it was all for them, not for whatever rode in their wallets. A promise that you would keep looking out for them.

And when you began the chorus, you dropped to your knees, getting that much closer to them, your smile so genuine, because you could hear them, every single one of them, like they were performing for you. It was their night as much as yours, it was their music more than it was yours.

A hundred voices welling up around yours was always what kept you awake at night, kept you coming back, pushing through the looks that people gave you when you said you were trying to make it in the music industry, pushing through the late nights where you couldn’t make it through that lyric. This song, right here, this was what brought you back, kept reminding you what mattered.

You stopped singing, and they continued without you. They always did- they would see how you just looked at them all, with the realest smile they’d ever seen, and they sang for you.

You couldn’t help it. You watched him- and he was singing, too.

This time, you knew for sure. You knew he was watching you, too, and when your eyes locked, the voices around you all swelled to a crescendo, like a soundtrack to the scene you were living through.

You had to snap yourself back into the world to pick up the second verse. It stayed just as intimate, just as amazing, all the way to the end of the song, when you sang the final note, and just stood there, basking in it, in a world made just for you.

The stage lights flickered out, and you disappeared into the dark.

Over your earpiece, one of the roadies informed you that your mics were off, and that’s exactly the way you liked them. You dropped onto the stage, hanging your legs over the front of it. You were still a few feet from the closest little fence, but it was closer than you’d been to them yet.

“Hey, guys,” you hissed toward anyone within earshot. That alone, in the dim light, gathered a crowd of twenty or so who had noticed you. You always did this at the end of the show- just to let them hear their name on your tongue.

And maybe, today, to find him.

You looked to a girl who had her hand outstretched to you, and you took it briefly.

“Hey, what’s your name?” you asked, and she shouted back “Oran!”

“Oran, almost like the color, huh?” You were so much more at ease now than you were, before the show. “I bet you hear that all the time.” You turned to someone else, always trying to make it through as many people as possible.

How many could you touch base with before turning to him, so that it wouldn’t be suspicious? Was three enough, or should you do one more?

No, when you caught his eyes, there was no turning back.

“Hey, what’s up,” you said, fighting to keep your heartbeat under control.

“Anakin,” he said, then pulling a bright yellow card out of his jacket. That, you’d recognize anywhere- that was a backstage pass.

Like the universe was aligning for you.

“Well, Anakin, if you’ve got a pass, I’ll see you later, yeah?” As you usually did from a person who had a pass, you moved on quickly, giving this time to others who wouldn’t get more. You heard six or seven more names before Ahsoka was tugging on your shoulder.

“Alright, alright,” you groaned, throwing your legs over the stage again and standing up, but not before blowing one last kiss toward the small crowd you’d gathered.

As soon as you made it back, into where the speakers cluttered up all of the space, you collapsed against Ahsoka, laughing as she struggled to hold you up.

“What, thinking about your wattpad boy?” she said, throwing you to your feet.

“Oh, not again,” Aayla whined, “he’ll be no different than every other one that you dream of finding at next week’s show, and then never see again.”

“No, no, this one’s different!” you insisted, grabbing onto Padme’s shirt. She brushed you off with a laugh.

“Oh yeah? How?”

“His name is Anakin,” you said, rubbing your lower lip between your teeth. “And he’s got a backstage pass.”

“What??” Came the collective cry, and you shushed them all before your manager appeared.

It was showtime, baby.

There were two or three of them, in total. The passes tended not to sell too well, and there were only a few available, anyway. The band just wasn’t quite big enough to pull that kind of fandom, save for a few die-hards who would one day get to pull out a photo and say ‘see? I was there at the beginning.’

Anakin was the last of the bunch.

“Great to meet you,” you said, shaking his hand for real this time. His eyes were damn intense- no wonder you’d been mesmerized by them.

“You too,” he said, and introductions went just as seamlessly with the others. Padme hugged him, and Ahsoka, little firecracker, gave him a playful punch for telling her that she looked taller when she was on stage.

Now- there’s a reason Padme’s your best friend in the world.

“Hey, it’s getting late,” she informed you, as though she were telling you to wrap it up. But she was smarter than that, and had set up the perfect trap.

“Oh,” Anakin said, looking slightly guilty and quite disappointed. “Well, I-”

“Nah,” you cut him off, smacking the back of your hand against his chest, “You paid for fifteen minutes, you’ll get them. We’ve just got to start packing up. You can chill with us, if you want.” No matter the fame difference between the five of you, he was just another guy in his early 20′s, the same as the rest of you, save for eighteen year old Ahsoka. He meshed well with the lot of you, and even helped load ‘Soka’s drums into the truck.

And, hey- he knew what he was getting into when he climbed into the back of the van with the four of you.

And what he was getting into was a bumpy-ass ride to one of the shittiest hotels the area could offer. It wasn’t even midnight, and you didn’t feel like climbing into bed just yet, so you let him follow the four of you upstairs so you could grab your phone and room key before leaving them to entertain themselves for the evening.

“Come home alive!” Aayla called as a farewell, and Ahsoka snorted from where she was laying on her bed.

“Come home capable of walking,” she said, and Padme saved you by slamming the door shut.

“So what’s there to do around here?” you asked him, shoving your hands into your pockets. You walked close to him, shoulders almost brushing with each step, and his smile was just for you.

“Are you kidding? Absolutely nothing. You’re lucky you found the laser tag place.” You looked toward him with a laugh, the ugly carpeting of the hotel hallway stretching on forever in front of you.

“Seriously? How could you survive?”

“Hey, not every town is downtown LA.”

“I’m flattered you think I’m famous enough to live in LA.” You stopped at the elevator, punching the down button. He nudged your shoulder playfully, those piercing blue eyes flicking over your face.

“You’re gonna be. You guys are really good.”

“Good to know I have your blessing for my career.”

“I’m serious!” he said with a laugh, and when the elevator door opened, he let you inside first.

“Yeah, yeah. So if there’s nothing to do around here...” You tilted your head at him, watching as he rested his shoulders back against the buffed metal wall. “What do you do?”

“Find a friend’s basement to smoke in,” he said with a laugh, and you couldn’t help but join him. “Mostly we go see movies, or sneak onto a roof, if we’re lucky.” You narrowed your eyes, letting your gaze slide to the elevator buttons.

“A roof, you say?”

“I don’t want to get you in trouble-”

“Anakin, answer me this-” You pulled out your phone to check the time. “Do you think the lobby security agent of this Comfort Inn is going to be dedicated enough to check the roof at 12:23 AM?” The world outside this elevator didn’t exist as his lips turned up into a smirk.

“No, I don’t think they will.”

“In that case-” You slipped your second knuckle against the highest number on the wall- 6. Not very impressive, but it would do.

Once the elevator went down to the lobby, and back up again, you stumbled your way to the stairwell and up, finding the door that said ‘roof access- do not enter’. Since when do you ever listen?

If you listened to some red sign on a door, you wouldn’t have your head on Anakin’s shoulder, looking up at more stars than you’d ever seen in your entire life.

You’d grown up in California, too close to some of the largest cities in the country to ever see the night sky like this. He’d grown up here, where there were warehouses for shipping to Reno, or Vegas, or Salt Lake City, but none of those cities were close enough to steal the sky.

“See those two, right on top of each other?” He asked, pointing to an area a few degrees up from the horizon.

“Yeah, I think,” you said, and he lifted his left arm, where he had a constellation pattern tattooed between his elbow and wrist.

“It’s this one. The phoenix. The first constellation I actually saw in the sky.” You reached out, taking hold of his elbow, and positioning his arm, from your perspective, just next to the constellation. “My mom took me out to a field and showed me the stars,” he said, and though you couldn’t see his face, you could hear the fondness in his voice. “For a long time, I wanted to be an astronaut.”

“Me too,” you said with a laugh, “but I wasn’t good enough in math.”

“My mom’s friend Watto says I’m too good with cars to fly a ship.”

“Wouldn’t that make you better?” You asked, readjusting so that your shoulder pressed to his. It was a little cold.

“You’d think so, right?” You were such a loud person, that all too often you fought against silence- not tonight. You let it envelope you, bringing with it peace. You could hear Anakin breathing, and it was so calming, your eyes slipped closed.

“You’re going to fall asleep up here,” he said, a hint of playfulness in his voice.

“Shut up,” you groaned, “I had a long day, and you’re warm.”

“You should go back to the room, then.” You rolled over onto your stomach, then, taking a good look at him.

“But that would mean that this night has to end.” He lifted his chest up by planting his elbows down, bringing himself closer to you.

“You said it yourself,” he said, voice smooth and quiet, “this is a night we’re not going to forget.”

“But that doesn’t mean I want it to end,” you breathed, unable to look away from him. You barely noticed it when he begun to lean forward, but then his lips were on yours, and that you certainly took notice of.

Your eyes fluttered closed, thanks to the shock and the welcome nature of it, and you leaned into it. He brought his furthest hand up and let it slide to the back of your neck, as though he could keep you from pulling away. You wouldn’t.

Your lips were still parted when he pulled away, your mind struggling to catch up. He’d- he’d just-

Calloused fingers brushed your hair back, and you opened your eyes to their touch, being drawn right back to his gaze.

“Then it doesn’t have to.”

-🦌 Roe

part 2

#anakin x reader insert #star wars anakin #anakin imagine #anakin x reader #anakin skywalker imagine #anakin skywalker #punk!anakin #modern au #musician au #star wars #fics

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calmlftv · 4 years

Text

falling. - c.h. blurb

description: a lil bit more angst, but this time inspired by cal’s instagram story cover a few months ago!

word count: 1.5k

warnings: angst but w a happy ending.

w/n: apparently if i listen to falling by harry styles enough i’ll write something sad. oops

taglist: @spicycal @castaway-cashton @irwinkitten @n-ctarinenga @notinthesameguey @blackbutterfliescal @ashtonsos @loveroflrh @bestyearssos @treatallwithkindness @bestyearslftv @another-lonely-heart

****

It’s been 4 days since you and Calum fought, and the radio silence was starting to become absolutely deafening.

All you wanted was his strong arms wrapped around you, his breath on your neck as he buried his face there, the smell of his clothes enveloping you in an even bigger hug than the one he was physically giving you; all you wanted was him, his giggley laugh that usually became silent when he was really happy, your fingertips tracing his tattoos while you laid in bed together, limbs tangled around each other while he sang you a love song. You missed him desperately.

But that night always comes back, the way his voice sounded when he snapped at you, the exhausted and annoyed frown on his face that dragged all of his beautiful features down. Your voice snapping back, alcohol on your breath as you finally told him everything that was bothering you; thinking about it now, you couldn’t remember what you were so upset about anyway. You just know it broke the most beautiful relationship you had ever been in. It has pushed you away from the love of your life.

Now, it was 2 a.m., your eyes stinging from the tears you had let out earlier as you laid in your best friend’s bed. She had let you stay with her after the fight, giving you her bed as she slept on the couch in her living area. You were even sharing clothes; the idea of walking back into your home with Calum filled you with anxiety, knowing he would be there and knowing you would have to see him. See his face, smell his cologne and hear his voice.

Your mind restless, you threw the covers off, dragging your hands down your face before you looked around the room. Your best friend’s electric piano was in the corner, music stacked high and random papers filled with chords for her favorite songs splayed out everywhere. Before you gave it much thought you swung your legs over the bed, padding over in your bare feet and baggy t-shirt before reaching out and pressing the power button.

The bench was cold against your bare thighs, the cool faux leather almost calming as your hands played over the keys. You hadn’t played in so long, your hands itching to dance over the ivories as you pulled out your phone. You pulled up the only song you had been listening to these days, muscle memory kicking in as you learned all the chords in a short time. You opened your camera, facing it towards you and starting a video recording as you played.

“I’m in my bed,” you sang, your voice a bit rusty from the years of no use. You continued despite that.

“And you’re not here. And there’s no one to blame but my drink and my wandering hands.”

The words of Harry Styles floated from your mouth, the music swelling and falling as you pressed forward. You lost yourself in the sounds, forgetting about the video recording and just letting the music take over. Your own voice surprised you as it quickly warmed up, your hands tense while you played and played; your best friend padded over, rubbing her eyes and smiling as she heard you in her room. She leaned against the doorway, arms folding in front of her as she quietly watched you, just enjoying the sound of your voice.

Once the song was over you held the final chord, letting it ring out around you as you sat there. Tears fell on the keys, the overwhelming numbness taking over shortly after as you stopped the recording. Quickly you posted the first chorus and verse to your Instagram story, typing an i’m sorry on it and praying that Calum wouldn’t see it.

Your best friend quietly moved behind you as you did this, wrapping her arms around your shoulders and watching you caption the video before she silently sat with you. The two of you played and sang until the sun came up and your voices were aching, giggles escaping between songs as the two of you just fell into the music over and over again.

As the sun came through the windows the two of you moved to bed, sharing the soft mattress together like you’ve done a million times before. You both quickly fell asleep, the lack of sleep catching up to you as your eyes fluttered closed.

It was 3 p.m. when you woke up again, your best friend shaking you awake.

“Y/N,” she said, patting your cheek.

“What?” You groaned, burying yourself deeper into the covers until she grabbed your arm and shook you again. Finally getting the message you sat up, your phone being shoved into your hands as you wiped the sleep from your face.

Opened on your screen was Calum’s Instagram page, the sight making you groan. “Why are you-”

“Shut up and watch his story,” she said, reaching over and tapping the colorful circle around his profile photo.

What popped up was Calum, a sad look on his face as he played his guitar in what looked like the living room. His pouty lips were pulled down at the corners, the camera a bit far and the lighting a bit dark but the circles under his puffy eyes were still obvious. The words i’m sorry too sat in a corner, small but readable to you.

His fingers picked the strings of his guitar softly until his voice followed.

“You said you care, and you missed me too…”

Your breath caught in your throat as your actions from the night before came crashing back to you; the plead for him, the caption on your video and the caption on his. Heart swelling, you looked at your best friend, her eyes watching you as Cal’s voice swelled.

“C’mon,” she said as the story closed, tugging you gently off the bed. She tossed some clothes at you. “Get dressed.”

You nodded, confused but listening to her. Once you had clothes on she came back, sitting you down as she brushed out your hair and cooled your undereyes. When she was finished she pulled you up, handing you the bag you had come there with and ushering you out the door. She sat you in her car and started to drive, her plan finally dawning on you as anxiety flared up in you.

The home you shared and created with Calum looked exactly the same; not like it should have changed at all, since you know Calum wouldn’t have done anything, but the sight of it still so perfect against your broken and nervous heart was stark. Without words you got out, bag clutched tightly in your hands as you looked at your best friend. She gestured for you to continue, her butt staying in the car as your feet carried you to the front door.

Your key was in your bag but you opted to knock instead, a hand nervously running through your hair as you waited for the answer.

You blinked and suddenly the door was open, Calum’s tall frame taking up the doorframe. His eyes were rimmed in red and puffy, dark circles hugging the lower lid as he looked at you. His brown eyes were darker than normal, no doubt reflecting how he felt inside.

His eyes were wide as he looked, yours the same size as you both just took each other in. His hair was messy.

“Hi.” You said, your voice hoarse.

“Hi.” His voice was soft, his features lined with sadness.

You tucked some hair behind your ear. “Can we-”

“Yeah,” he answered, stepping aside to let you in. You waved to your best friend, her giving you a nod before heading home.

Once inside you set the bag down, turning around and burying your face in Cal’s chest. His arms immediately found their way around you, his grip tighter than it ever has been as your shoulder shook.

“I’m so sorry,” you choked out, tears already falling down your face. Calum’s chest heaved, a tear hitting the top of your head as he breathed you in. He missed how perfectly you fit against him, how much you smelled like home.

“I’m sorry too,” he sobbed, pressing a kiss to your head before you pulled back enough to look at him. “Can we work this out? Please?”

You nodded, tears spilling down your cheeks again. “I’d really like that,” you said, Calum pulling you back against his chest. He squeezed you until you were both done crying, his hand lifting your chin so he could press a kiss to your forehead. His lips found yours a moment later, his hands on your hips as he still squeezed you.

After you both pulled away he bent down, throwing you over his shoulder as he headed for the stairs. You couldn’t help but laugh, this being your favorite thing. “Calum Thomas!”

A chuckle met your ears as he carried you upstairs. “I missed your laugh, doll. Had to hear it again.”

You giggled, letting him carry you to bed before he covered you in kisses and cuddles.

#5sos #calum hood #5 seconds of summer #calum hood angst #5sos angst #blurbs.ch

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jaskierswolf · 4 years

Text

The White Wolf (pt. 1/3)

Ship: Geraskier - Established. Rating: T Word Count: 6k in total (this chapter is 2k)

Summary: Following an unfortunate encounter with a mage, Geralt gets cursed into a wolf. Jaskier and Geralt must travel the Continent in search of someone that can help them. (AO3)

Warnings: Canon-typical violence, mentions of blood, nudity (Jaskier’s clothes don’t change with him).

Part 7: Shifter!Jaskier Verse (Tumblr) - Can be read as a stand alone.

_________

The cloud of sparkling dust settled on the floor and Geralt was nowhere to be seen. The last Jaskier had seen of his boyfriend, he’d been thrown against the wall, barely able to move his fingers to form Quen in time before his head knocked against the stone. There was no witcher in the room now. Just a pile of bloodstained white fur in the corner of the room.

Jaskier snarled and sniffed the air. He could smell Geralt but something was wrong. Geralt reeked of wet dog. Jaskier growled, low and menacing, at the sorcerer in front of them. The man had been luring children away from their homes in the dead of night using all sorts of sweet treats. Then at night he was pulling their dreams from their minds and using them for fuck knows what. The children were returning to their homes as lifeless ghosts of their former selves, and thus a witcher and his trusted companion had been hired.

“I’m no fool, bard.” The sorcerer spat. “I can sense your magic.

Jaskier let his sharp teeth show as he snarled again. He let his magic loose and there was a sickening crunch of bones. Jaskier’s thick russet fur melted away into long red feathers. He spread his wings as a thick black mane grew along he neck. He roared at the sorcerer and struck both talons across his chest, balancing on the large lion paws of his hind legs. The sorcerer was thrown backwards as dark blood seeped through his clothing. The attack had caught him off guard. Jaskier stalked forward, his front talons clacking on the wooden floor. This human had stolen Jaskier’s mate and they had to pay.

The scent of blood was thick in the air and all he knew was the hunt.

The prey was wounded. It was an easy kill.

He screeched as he prepared to land the final blow but a large snowy white wolf with glowing amber eyes suddenly stood between him and the prey.

Amber eyes.

Jaskier knew those eyes.

Geralt.

He let his magic loose and shifted back into a wolf. There was just something about Geralt being in wolf form that ignited all his pack instincts. He didn’t know whether Geralt was stuck as a wolf or could shift between animals, but Jaskier knew he would match Geralt no matter what.

The thought gave him pause. He wondered whether it was an instinct of his people, lost and long forgotten. Were there ever groups of shifters? Were they still alive? Or was he alone… He’d always felt so alone. Jaskier nudged his head under Geralt’s snout and whined. Geralt huffed and butted Jaskier’s head. Jaskier did his best wolfy grin and then mouthed at Geralt’s nose before rolling over onto his back with a wag of his tail.

Geralt gave a quick bark and then looked pointedly between Jaskier and mage. Jaskier tilted his head, wondering how Geralt still managed to look unimpressed even as a wolf. Jaskier snorted and rolled back onto his paws. He glanced around the room, his clothes were still at the inn. Geralt’s clothes appeared to have disappeared when he was changed into a wolf; lucky bastard. He spotted a long cloak hanging up on the wall and wagged his tail. He leapt up on his hind legs and pulled at the cloak with his teeth. When he was covered nicely by the heavy material he shifted back into his human form with a crack of his bones.

The cloak was thick, grey and woollen. It had a large hood, reminiscent of the cloaks the elves used. He wrapped it round his shoulders and then grinned at Geralt.

“Hello, dearest. I know you’re the White Wolf and all, but isn’t this taking it a bit too far?” He reached out with his hand and Geralt bumped it with his snout. He gave Geralt a quick scratch behind the ears. “Can you shift?”

Geralt tilted his head.

Jaskier frowned and stuck his tongue out as he tried to figure out a way to explain it. It was like trying to explain how to blink or breathe or… just exist. “Umm, ah, think of Roach? Try and feel her hooves, her mane?”

Geralt’s snout scrunch up and he let out a snarl.

“No?”

Geralt shook his head, one ear twitched and Jaskier couldn’t help but coo. Geralt growled at that.

“I’m sorry!” He said, not really sorry at all. “But, my love, you look so cute!”

Another growl.

“Oh stop it. You’re trying to be all scary witcher and it’s not working. You are adorable and I can turn into a dragon so shush.” He bopped Geralt on the nose and gave him another scratch behind the ears. Geralt’s tail began to wag. Geralt looked behind him and snarled, clearly not enjoying the way his body was betraying his feelings. He also looked as if he was about to start chasing his tail. He was baring his teeth, snarling as the tail flicked on the stone floor. Jaskier took pity on him and knelt down so he could cup his wolf’s face in his hands. “Geralt, darling?”

Geralt blinked and looked up at him.

“There you go. The instincts might feel a bit strong at first but we’ll work it out alright?” Jaskier buried in face in Geralt’s fur, his own instincts to shift back into a wolf were almost overwhelming him, but Geralt needed him human. It was easier to explain things to his newly wolf companion when he could use words. It was also nice to be able to snuggle in Geralt’s fur for a change. “Do you know how to fix this?”

Geralt shook his head.

“I shouldn’t have killed the mage, should I?” Jaskier asked with a sigh.

Another head shake and a whine.

Jaskier kissed Geralt’s head. “In my defence, witcher. I thought he’d killed you!” Geralt licked his face and he grimaced. “Geralt! Oh gods, that went up my nose!”

Geralt wagged his tail and pounced. Jaskier was knocked back onto the ground and Geralt’s tongue was drooling all over his face, which would have been fine if Geralt’s tongue didn’t feel so coarse against his skin. “Oi, no! Get off you big lump!”

Geralt nipped at his ear and sat back down, his tail thumped noisily against the stone floor.

Jaskier sighed and grabbed Geralt’s swords from where they’d clattered on the floor. Jaskier hummed. Geralt’s clothes and medallion had changed with him but his swords had not. At least his magic was consistent. Geralt head-butted his leg and they finally fled the tower together. It felt strange being the one on two feet instead of four but they’d faced worse things in their two years travelling together.

Two years…

Had it really been so long? He’d been with Geralt for two whole years… not mentioning the little blip of his mother’s horrendous return into his life. He shuddered at the memory. Yeah, they’d definitely been through worse together. ___________

As they approached the town Geralt snorted and laid down on the ground, resting his head on his big white paws. Jaskier glanced over his shoulder at the wolf with a scowl before he realised why Geralt had stopped. He grinned and walked back to pet Geralt’s head. Geralt’s tail thumped heavily against the ground as Jaskier gave him a scratch behind the ear. Geralt still looked put out by his tail’s reaction to affection but now seemed resigned to the fact he could no longer mask his happier feelings.

“Well isn’t this a turn of events. I’m normally the one that has to wait outside!” Jaskier announced with a laugh.

Geralt let out a low growl and mouthed at Jaskier’s fingers.

“Ouch! Sharp teeth, Geralt. You’re not exactly a pup, dear heart,” Jaskier chided.

Geralt’s ears flicked and Jaskier was pretty sure the strange snuffling noise was Geralt trying to laugh at him.

“Stay here. I’ll go and get our stuff,” he sighed and looked down at himself. The cloak wasn’t exactly modest and whilst he had very little shame over his body, most humans wouldn’t appreciate him walking around town with his dick out. “Next time we are keeping my clothes in a pack and not back at the inn.”

Geralt barked and his tongue hung out of his mouth as he wagged his tail.

“Yeah yeah, go on, laugh at your poor suffering boyfriend.”

Geralt barked again and jumped up to lick Jaskier’s face, placing both paws on Jaskier’s shoulders. Jaskier just ruffled Geralt’s fur and kissed his snout.

“I’ll be back soon, love.”

He wrapped the cloak around him in a feeble attempt to cover himself up and trudged back to the inn. He did get some bizarre looks from the villagers but he did his best to ignore them. Had they never seen a bard wearing just a cloak and witcher’s swords before? He scoffed. They were amateurs. He tried to sneak up to their room at the inn but the bloody innkeeper spotted him.

“Oi, where do you think you’re going?”

Jaskier spun around, only just remembering to keep his hands gripped on the cloak to stop it from flying open. He still had Geralt’s swords in their holder in his hand and he held them up for the innkeeper to see. “I’m a friend of the witcher’s. Jaskier? The bard? You might have heard of me?”

“Toss a Coin?” The innkeeper asked and Jaskier let out a sigh of relief.

“Ah, yes. That’s the one,” He sang a couple of lines just to prove his point. “And umm, well. Geralt… Geralt was looking after my lute for me whilst I was… away?”

“Away?”

“Yeah,” Jaskier winced. It was a terrible story and he was ashamed. “But you see, I really need to get it back.”

“Did the witcher take your clothes too?” The innkeeper asked with a smirk, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

Jaskier felt his cheeks heat up and it took all his control not to shift back into a mouse. He laughed nervously and tugged the cloak tighter around his chest. “Well, funny you should say that.”

“Those his swords?”

“Yes! Yes they are. I ran into him on the path just outside of town. He’s dealt with your mage problem, but ah. Umm. Spells! He was hit by a spell and it’s really not very pretty so he asked me to collect our… his.. belongings. So I’m just…” He pointed to the stairs and the innkeeper waved his hand. “Thank you ever so much, kind sir. May all the gods praise you!”

“Just go, bard.”

Jaskier gave a quick bow and then flew up the stairs, two steps at at time. Once inside the room he got dressed and quickly gathered up their belongings before heading back out to fetch Roach. The conversation with the stable girl went just as well as the one with the innkeeper and Jaskier barely remembered the story he’d woven only a few minutes before, but he was gone and heading back towards the forest before anyone else could question him.

He didn’t ride Roach but it was easier with her carrying the bags and his lute. Once he was out of sight from the townsfolk he considered shifting back into a wolf. Whatever the mage had hit Geralt with was driving him crazy, but they still needed to find a solution to Geralt’s wolf problem so regretfully he remained on two feet. He huffed and dragged his feet as they headed back to where he’d left Geralt. How did people cope with being in one form all the time? It was so boring!

___________

#the witcher #the witcher fanfiction #shapeshifter!jaskier #shifter!jaskier #wolf geralt #cursed geralt #geraskier #geraskier fanfiction #wolfie's witcher writing #let me know if you want to be tagged

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