#especially really reflects on me so much. two years older n that part of me is still the same. it's really so

[ateezreactionsandscenarios]

Hate Comments

Pairing: Best friend! Kim Hongjoong x Chubby! Reader

Genre: Fluff, Angst (Hurt/Comfort)

CW: Mentions of weight and insecurity, some mean comments made about readers weight and appearance, talk about weight loss, one mention of eating.

Prompts: 5) “I’ve always wanted to do that.”

               65) “ You look like you could use a hug.”

Word Count: 3646

Summary: You’ve been best friends with Hongjoong since before he became a trainee and your friendship is well known among fans, while the biggest majority of comments toward you were really sweet there are also those that hurt, especially when it’s about your weight, but what you’ve never realised is your biggest admirer has been by your side the whole time.

a/n: The hate comments in this fic do not reflect my opinion on “Chubby” people, I mean no offence by these I was just thinking of comments I (as a chubby person myself) would hate to see about myself. You’re all beautiful and I love you all 😘.

Prompt List               MasterList         Buy me a Coffee

“Joong, you’ll do great stop worrying yourself.” You whisper to Hongjoong patting his shoulder. You could feel the tension he was holding and the way he stared off into space you knew he was over thinking every tiny thing.

“I know, but I guess I need to be prepared for the worst.” He sighs before you lightly slap his arm.

“Hey, the worst case scenario with you guys is you kill it on stage and blow everyone away like you always do, so stop panicking you’ve been doing this long enough to know how amazing you all are.” He can’t help but smile and give you a loving look as you hype him and the group up, you’d always been the same.

You’ve known Hongjoong since you were both kids, your parents being friends and you lived close to each other so that meant you spent almost every day together. Getting older you went to the same high school and even then, when you were both in different classes and made other friends you were both inseparable to the point it was talk amongst your friends that you’d both make a cute couple. For years you both shrugged it off but Hongjoong was more reluctant to correct them that you were just friends, deep down he wanted it to be true, for you to be his but he would never risk ruining what the two of you have.

Still standing at the side of the stage he thinks back to his trainee days. The day he got accepted he was so scared to tell you, scared he’d not see you as much if at all, losing you was what terrified him the most but when you cheered him on and took him out to celebrate it was like a weight was lifted off his shoulders. You were with him every step of the way through his trainee days. He’d call you the morning of an evaluation for a pep talk, he’d call you again to tell you how it went and you were always the one who he turned to for a shoulder to cry on when everything was getting to be too much.

Turning to look at you he’s immensely grateful you talked him out of giving up that night he turned up at your place, tear stained cheeks ready to throw in the towel and get a normal 9-5 job and give up everything he dreamed of, but there you were, the comfort that delivered some hard truths and he always feels he owes everything he has today to you.

“Guys you’re on in 1 minute!” The stage director calls out pulling Hongjoong from his thoughts.

“Deep breath.” You say making him look at you as you take some deep breaths with him. “You got this.”

With a nod to you he hurries off to make sure the others are ready to go before they run out onto the stage and take their places. The only sound heard for a little while was the low murmurs of the crowd before the room erupted with energy, the Guerrilla track blaring from the speakers mixed with the screams and cheers of the crowd. part of you wished you were in the crowd to fully support the boys but then again you couldn’t complain about getting to watch them from the side of the stage, up close. 

When the performance ends the boys take their bows and rush backstage again for a couple more minutes rest before the award is announced. One by one as they come past you you’re pulled left and right receiving warm sweaty hugs from everyone, Hongjoong being last his hug seems to last longer than everyone else’s and even when he’s done he still keeps you close.

“Well I guess it’s safe to say it’s obvious who’s getting the award today.” You beam at all of them but see Seonghwa and Jongho shaking their heads.

“I’m not getting my hopes up, if I keep telling myself we won’t get it then I can’t get disappointed.” Seonghwa says while Jongho nods in agreement clearly feeling the same. You get where he’s coming from but at the same time you wish he’d felt a bit more highly of what they do and from time to time expect the best outcome. 

It’s time for the award to be announced and all groups and soloists take to the stage again. You could see from the way the boys hold themselves that their nervous but you have nothing but the utmost faith in them. The MC opens the envelope and finally announces Ateez’s win and you can’t help but scream, quickly covering you mouth afterwards, scared you’re being too loud. You’re buzzing with excitement and when they come back to you you’re tugged into a group hug.

“I knew you guys would do it.” You cheer, watching how they’re still literally jumping for joy. 

“What would we do without our number one groupie.” San smiles giving you another hug while you grimace at the name.

“San you know I hate being called that.” You pout making him laugh patting you on the head in apology. 

“Hey, do you guys want me to take a photo for you, you need to have a photo to remember Guerrilla's first win right?” They all nod and get into position, Jongho in the middle holding the award while the others all pick a pose. You snap a few photos with Hongjoong’s phone, letting them change their poses as they please before handing the phone back. The other disperse to grab something to snack on while they wait to leave but Hongjoong pulls you in close wrapping an arm around your shoulder.

“Joong what are you doing?” You giggle.

“Well I gotta get a photo with my best friend and number 1 fan now don’t I.” He says matter-of-factly pulling up his camera again and holding the award between you both and snapping a photo. Scrolling through the photos he smiles and picks out a few to post to Instagram, including the one of you.

“Joong are you sure you’re allowed to post that one?” You ask a little on edge not wanting him to get in trouble with management or the fans.

“It’s fine, everyone knows about you as it is, you know I talk about you all the time on my lives so you’re no secret.” He giggles pushing the post button.

“But they’ve never seen my face, are you sure you won’t get into trouble for that?”

“Y/n, it’s fine I promise you, I just want you to be part of the celebrations with us.” You smile when he nudges you, finally giving into him like you always do. 

“Plus, you look cute so why not.” He smiles at you noting the light blush on your cheeks at his compliment before he heads off to find the others, ushering you to follow him.

The next morning you awoke with a small headache, maybe those drinks you had with the boys after the show weren’t really worth it, but at the same time you were grateful you didn’t have work. Rolling onto your side you reach over to your night stand to grab your phone, the light of your screen stinging your eyes for a moment before fading away back to a dull ache in your head. 

Your phone was filled with Instagram notifications which you soon came to see were all on the post Hongjoong had posted the night before. You smile to yourself as you scroll through the photos, happy to see the boys feeling proud of themselves, then your eyes land on the photo of you and Hongjoong, your smile growing even more. You can’t help the butterflies you feel when you look at the photo, Hongjoong’s eyes practically sparkled as much as his smile and it warmed you up in ways nothing else could. You didn’t want to blame him for your impossibly high standards in men but how could you not, how could you settle for less that what he is and he does it all so effortlessly whereas for other men it would be considered a painful and tedious chore to go to the lengths he does for you. You can’t help but think he’s the reason you’ve been single for so long...well, that and your insecurity over how you look, but that was a whole other thing in itself. 

You quickly take a screenshot of the photo and set it as your phone wallpaper before going back to Instagram. Your finger hovered over the comments button, you knew you shouldn’t read the comments, it was an unspoken rule, never look at the comment section unless you want to get hurt. But you look anyway.

“Congratulations!”

“We knew you could do it!”

“I love you.”

“KINGS!”

“Is that the famous y/n, she’s so pretty!”

“You’d make such a cute couple.”

“Ateez’s 9th member is so pretty.”

“Are they dating?”

“Please tell me they’re dating 😱.”

Those were just a few of the positive comments you came across all making you smile and some making you chuckle. You were starting to wonder what was so bad about the comment section, everything you was reading was so sweet, everyone congratulating the boys on their achievement, some spilling their hearts out to them and quite a few gushing over you and your friendship with Hongjoong. It was safe to say you were starting to get an ego boost, that was until you found them...the dreaded hate comments.

“So that’s y/n 😬.”

“Hongjoong didn’t tell us she was fat.”

“I didn’t know Hongjoong was into fat girls...each to their own I guess.”

“It’s a shame she’s fat, she’d be a lot prettier of she lost weight.” 

You felt your heart sink as you read through the comments. Granted there were way more positive comments compared to the negative, but it’s true what they say, you could have 100 lovely comments and it only takes one to ruin it all. The hate comments hit your harder than you ever thought they would, those comments highlighted everything you were insecure about and now they were all you could think about.

Climbing out of bed you assess yourself in the mirror, granted your hair was a mess and you still had last nights makeup on, but that’s not what you were focusing on. Stripping down to just your underwear you were able to get the best view of your body without an oversized hoodie altering your silhouette. You were all for body positivity and loving yourself in your own skin but when you were met with your reflection you couldn’t help but feel disgusted by the person you were looking at. Turning your body in different angles you hoped there was one that didn’t make you look so awful, but nothing worked, you saw yourself being twice as big as you really were and you knew that was the case but it didn’t make you feel any better.

Letting out a sigh you look down and grab at your stomach, waist and hips, cringing even more as you could feel your skin fill your hands with each grip. Tears welled in your eyes as you brought them back to your reflection, the hate comments repeating over and over in your head to the point you couldn’t take it anymore, scurrying away from the mirror to hide yourself underneath a pair of sweatpants and one of your biggest hoodies.

You try to distract yourself as best you can, throwing on a movie and wrapping up under a blanket on the couch, you thought if your mind was being occupied by something else then you won’t think about the comments and it worked for a while until you saw Hongjoong’s name light up your phone screen as he called you. You hesitated to pick up for a moment but you answer anyway.

“Hi Joong.”

“Hey! We have another stage to do tomorrow so I just wanted to ask if you wanted to tag along again, we had a lot of fun with you around yesterday.” You felt awful, you could hear the excitement in his voice and you could picture the beaming smile that went with it but after your experience this morning you really didn’t feel up to it.

“I’d love to Joong but I can’t, I have a lot to do the next few days so I can’t make it I’m sorry.” You sigh glancing at your surroundings seeing how very not busy you were. He was quiet for a second on his side of the phone, his eyebrow quirking a little noting how you sounded rather off.

“No worries, I get that just make sure you eat today okay?” You felt a little sick at the thought of eating, given how you felt it was the last thing you wanted to do.

“O...Okay I will.”

“Good. I’ve got to rush off, gotta get some practice in ready for tomorrow, I’ll text you later.” You hum a response and say your goodbyes before hanging up. You felt a wave of guilt wash over you, you knew you shouldn’t lie to him like that but how were you going to be the good and supportive best friend you are if you can’t even pluck up the courage to look at your own reflection.

The negative thoughts were eating away at you, you looked back at the comment section reading through the nice ones to try to make yourself feel better, but as expected you kept stumbling upon the mean ones again and the more you scrolled the more you found. You were about to break down into tears until you heard a small knock at the door. Locking your phone and putting it to one side you got to your feet, blanket wrapped around your shoulders and headed towards the door. Opening the door your eyes are met with Hongjoong, his bright smile fading as he looks at you.

“Hey, what’s wrong, you look like you could use a hug.” His voice was thick with worry as he stepped into your home, his eyes never leaving yours watching as you shrug him off.

“I’m fine Joong, really.” But you didn’t sound convincing enough for him, he knew you too well to know when you were lying or covering up how you really felt.

“Coffee?” You ask trying to change the subject as quickly as you could. He nodded a yes and you rushed off to make the coffee while he made his way to your couch, you joining him shortly after.

“Y/n, please tell me what’s going on.” He persists.

“Joong everything is fine really, I’m just a bit...under the weather.” His hand comes out to touch your forehead trying to feel for a temperature.

“You’re not warm, even with that blanket around you, you feel fine, you can talk to me y/n you know that right?” You sigh at him, you know he’s never going to let it go unless you tell him.

“Do you think I’m fat?” His eyes widen and he slightly chokes on his coffee at your question before looking at you dumbfounded.

“What do you mean?

“Simple, do you think I’m fat?”

“Of course not why would you ask that?” He says setting his coffee down on the table and turning himself to face you fully.

“Next question.” you say deflecting his question. “Do you think my weight makes me ugly?” 

“Y/n, don’t be stupid you’re not ugly in any way shape or form, what’s gotten into you?” You take in a long shaky breath before getting to your point.

“I saw the post you put up yesterday, the photos, and I stupidly decided to look through the comments, majority of them were so lovely and you really do have some of the best fans out there, they love you so much, but then I found some directed at me and...well...they weren’t that nice.” You drop your head as you finish speaking, not being able to bear the sad look in his eyes.

“What did they say?”

“There were a few saying how I’m fat and some saying how I’d be pretty if I lost weight...Don’t get me wrong there were some really sweet ones but the mean ones have really stuck with me.” He sighs heavily and turned his head finding your phone next to him. Unlocking it the screen lit up to show where you’d left off in the comment section and he skimmed his way through some of them, a frown forming on his face as he sees what you were talking about.

“I’m sorry.” He says weakly, closing your phone again and putting it to one side.

“Why are you sorry, you didn’t do anything wrong.”

“No, I did, I should have put more thought into it, I should have known what might happen, being an idol is risky business, you get the adoring fans who show so much love and support and want nothing more than for us to be happy and well but on the flip side you get the crazy ones, the ones that want us all to themselves and hate on any girl we even look at. I don’t want you to go through that.” He felt awful, in the moment when the photo was taken he wanted to do nothing more than to show off his best friend, the one who’d had his heart since before he became a trainee, his number 1 supporter, his rock, but all that came out of it was you feeling immensely insecure and he was to blame for it.

“It’s okay, you have nothing to be sorry for, I should have known better than to look but curiosity got the better of me...but it has got me thinking.” He tilts his head wanting to know what you meant by that.

“I’ve been single for so long, and now that I think about it I’ve always been second best. Being the chubby one amongst my girl friends I’ve always been pushed to the side, I’m the one men go to when they want a friend’s number but I’m never the one who’s number is wanted. Because of that I’ve always compared myself to other girls, skinnier girls and now I’m thinking it’s my weight holding me back from getting a boyfriend, I’ll never find ‘the one’ if I look like this.” You sadly gesture to yourself still keeping your eyes from Hongjoong’s who’s were now starting to tear up.

“Y/n...Shut up.” He whispers shakily making you look up at him seeing how tears brimmed his eyes.

“Wha...” Before you could finish speaking Hongjoong leaned forward pressing his lips to yours, hands cupping your face pulling you in closer to him. You were in shock but you melted into the kiss all the same, eyes fluttering shut as you tried to savour the second his lips spent on yours.

“I’ve always wanted to do that.” He smiles lightly, pulling away from you, your face still held in his hands.

“What...What was that for?”

“Y/n, I never want to hear you say that stuff about yourself again okay. You’re not second best and you never have been, you’ve always been number 1 in my eyes and your beautiful. Short, tall, skinny, chubby you name it you look beautiful no matter what so stop thinking you’re not.” You could feel tears start to well up in your own eyes again, but you couldn’t help but think he was joking.

“Joong...”

“No I mean it, I might as well come out and say it...I like you...a lot and I have done for years,  was going to tell you before but then I got accepted into KQ and I realised I wouldn’t be allowed to. As shit as it is idols have strict rules about dating, as you know, so for years I’ve been pushing my feelings for you aside but nothing’s worked and now...I don’t care about any rules.” You could feel the way his hands started to slightly tremble on your face and you bring yours up to hold them.

“I don’t want you risking your career, especially not for the likes of me.” 

“I would risk anything for you y/n, just remember that for me. You’re the most beautiful person to walk to earth and for years I’ve wanted to be able to show you off to people and say ‘yes she’s all mine’, I want you to be able to see yourself how I see you.” That was your breaking point, the overwhelming love you felt from Hongjoong had set the water works off, tears streaming as you buried your face into his chest.

“Do you really mean that?” You hiccup through your sobs.

“Of course I do, every word of it. I want to tell you everyday how much you mean to me and how beautiful you are, but only if you’ll let me.” You nod against his chest, not trusting your mouth to talk for you. You could feel a smile creep onto his face from the way his cheek lifted against your head and his hold on you got tighter. 

“I’ve liked you for a long time too Joong.” You confess, making his eyes widen and mouth open slightly before pulling back from you to see if you’re being sincere. 

“Really?”

“Of course, I mean look at you, you’re amazing and so sweet, anyone is lucky to have you in their life, I didn’t say anything because there’s a better girl out there for you.” He stopped your talking by kissing you again, pulling you into his lap and snaking his arms around your waist keeping you close to his chest.

“There’s no one better out there for me than you.” 

Tag list:   @kpopcrossworlds @kpopjust4u  @whatudowhennooneseesyou​  @8tinytings​  @jenotation​ @grim-adventures58​  @owjohny​  @ker1​  @tinkerbell460​  @haylstoney  @scuzmunkie​  @halesandy​​   @multihunbun​

[thatsalrightprettymama]

There's Only One For Me, And You Know Who.

A/N: This is my first full one shot, I hope you enjoy! It's not proof read, so I apologize for any mistakes! Also this takes place before the Hayride performance, about 1/2 years before going with Sun Records before Hayride haha. I do hope you enjoy reading this.

Rating : None

Warnings: None that I can think of, it's just a really simple fluff piece. I'm new to actually publishing my work on any type of platform. So if you feel that I've written something in this (or future works) that would be or could be a trigger, please tell me.

  Nervously, you checked your reflection in the mirror to make sure you looked perfect. You had to, Elvis Presley asked you out. The boy you had been smitten with ever since he became friends with your brother Lee. Ever since the blue-eyed beauty met and started playing guitar with your older brother, the boy has smitten you. That was also when you became Lee's shadow. Following him anywhere just to spend time with the Presley boy. Smiling as you take in your appearance, you still could not believe that he asked you out. Hearing a knock on your apartment door, your nerves intensify. "Mama! Bubba! I'm leaving, I'll be back later." You call out as you head to the door. Rushing to answer before Lee comes out of his room and either embarrass you or distract Elvis with music talk. Answering the door, you feel the butterflies in your stomach start to swarm when you see him. Elvis looked so handsome. He looked perfect in his dark jeans and green button up. "Oh wow! You look beautiful little mama." He compliments you as he flashes you a smile. You feel your face burn as you blush from not only the compliment, but his voice too. You couldn't help but to think that you could listen to him speak all day in that deep voice of his. "Thank you, Elvis. You look handsome as always. " You tell him as you step out and close the door behind you. Trying, and doing a decent job of, keeping your nerves from making your voice shake.

"Thank you, Y/N., I had to look my best for Y/N Denson, the Queen of the Courts." Elvis teases you as you two walks down the hallway, bumping your shoulder as you giggle. "God you and Lee are never gonna let me forget that. It's been almost two years ago." You tell him slightly shaking your head at the memory with the Wilson boy that him and Lee unfortunately witnessed. "Of course, we won't, though that boy was right." He begins to tell you and you two make it to the lobby. “You are the Queen of Lauderdale Courts, especially since I'm the King." He jokes causing me to relax more, as my nerves start to calm. Because while he is a heartthrob, he still was the sweet boy that was somehow Lee's friend. "Ooh that was smooth there Presley, but you're forgetting I remember Ana-May and the lake last year." You tell him teasing him as you leave Lauderdale Courts, and head towards his work truck.

"Ooh you wound me Darlin' how could you bring her up?" He jokes with a fake grimace before smiling again as he opened the door for you. "Thank you, and well you started it. " You retort as he closed the door and gets in himself. "I did, and I shoulda known you'd fire back." Elvis jokes as he starts the truck. "So, what do you have planned for tonight?" You ask him as he pulls onto the road. "Well, I know it ain't much doll, but I figured I'd take ya on a picnic." He answers biting his lip as he glanced at you. "Oh, Elvis that's so sweet, and hey you might night think it's much. " You begin to tell him, smiling at how sweet he was. "But I think that it's something, it's more romantic than going to the picture show." You finish as you get dazzled by his smile again. You two spend the rest of the ride talking and joking until you pull up to the dirt road leading to the lake.

Pulling up to a small clearing off the side of the road, Elvis turns the truck off. While he grabbed the basket and blanket from the truck, he led to an area that overlooked part of the lake. "This is usually my fishing spot, but I figured it's peaceful and pretty enough for tonight." Elvis comments as he sets the stuff down. "It's a nice spot, also I won't tell Lee about this fishing spot." You joked as you helped him spread the blanket out. After the quickly set up you both sit and start to eat and talk. Eventually you all ended up laying on the blanket together, Elvis on his back watching the sunset sky and clouds, and you on your stomach watching him. “You know Y/N, I’m gonna make it big, and I’m gonna get Mama out of those apartments, and you and Lee too doll. Those kids at school ain’t gonna call us trashy then.” Elvis tells you with passion coursing through his drawl as you two talked about his music. “I believe you Elvis, anyone with ears can tell you’re gonna go somewhere with that voice. “. You tell him as stare at his handsome face. Taking the way his blue eyes shined when talking about music, and seeing the faint blush appear at your statement. "Thank you, darlin’, and I mean it. When I get us outta there, I'm getting ya'll out to. Cause I'm gonna fly." He tells you rolling onto his side, his blue eyes staring into yours.

  "I mean Lee's helped me with my pickin' so much since we started playing together. " He begins to continue as he reaches over to slide some of your hair back. The butterflies begin to return as smiles and flirtatiously adds, "Plus I gotta take care of my best girl, don't I? " You can't help but to blush and smile at his attention. "Oh Elvis, those kids are gonna eat crow one day, because I don't know anyone who doesn't deserve to fly more than you. " You softly tell him after a moment of just gazing into his eyes, and just seeing the determination and the hunger for his dreams in them. "I knew it the day I went to see who was playing along with Lee. I knew that skinny blonde, blue eyed boy was somethin' special. " You confess to him still blushing as you look at him. Looking at you tenderly Elvis surprises you by leaning forward. Closing your eyes, you felt his soft plush lips meet yours. Softly he kisses you before leaning back. "Wow." You breathlessly whisper as you open your eyes, falling even more. "Took the word outta my mouth." Elvis quips as his lip pulls up from your reaction, causing your cheeks to burn more and giggle. “Though I think I just found my new favorite pastime, kissing you doll.” He flirts at you before leaning forward and kisses you again. That is how you two end up spending the rest of the evening. Laying there talking and stealing the occasional kiss till dusk starts to turn to night. “Well Y/N as much as I don’t want to, we better head back before Mama and Lee have both our hides.” Elvis says as it begins to get dark. “I think you’re right. You’re Mama will kill me, but I don’t think you’d have to worry bout Lee. You’re his favorite.” You joke back as you both begin to get up and put up the blanket and stuff. Elvis slings his arm around your shoulder as you head back to his truck. After he places the basket and blanket in the bed, he opens your door first before getting in again.

  As he started the truck, you glanced at him and couldn’t help but admire him. You couldn’t believe that the boy you’ve had a crush on for the past two years, took you out on such an amazing date. “Wanna turn on WHBQ?” You ask reaching toward the truck radio. “You know it doll.” He retorts in his deep voice smiling as you turn the knob to familiar R&B station. As the familiar sounds of B.B. King’s “3 O’clock Blues” flow out the speaker, you smile and glance at Elvis. As the beautifully somber guitar notes danced in the cab, you noticed how his smile seemed to brighten just a bit. “When ya meet B.B. are you gonna introduce me to him?” You dreamily ask Elvis as he taps to the rhythm on the steering wheel. “Oh, when I meet B.B. King Y/N, you’ll be right there beside me.” He answers brightly in his baritone voice with a chuckle. You two continue to talk and listen to blues as he drives back to the apartments. Though before you know it you see the apartment complex, and you two are home.

  Opening your door he smiles and grabs your hand, holding it as you two slowly walk back into Lauderdale Courts. “You know I’ve really had a great time tonight Y/N. To be honest, I’ve wanted to ask you out for awhile now darlin’.” Elvis tells you as he bites his plush lip, his face taking a slight serious look. “I know we’ve only been on one date, but you really are my best girl. I mean you’ve always been there for me; you’ve never laughed off my music, or my look.” He tells you earnestly as you walk through the lobby, towards your apartment. Blushing at his admission you feel your burning face split into a smile. “I had a wonderful time too Elvis, and I’ve wanted you to ask me out as long as you wanted to. “You tell him squeezing his warm hand lightly, “I dig everything about you Elvis, and you really are something special. “You finish with the compliment as you watch his smile get wider. “Well good darlin, cause you’re my girl now.” Elvis proclaims holding that bright smile, causing the butterflies to return once again. “I wouldn’t wanna be anyone else’s girl.” You confess as you get closer to your apartment door. “Well this is me!” You announce as you stand at the door before turning to ask him, “Am I gonna see you tomorrow, or do you have work?” “You’ll see me tomorrow doll, I gotta work but me and Lee have practice.” Elvis answers smiling down at you as you lean against the doorway. You both pause, lingering, not really wanting to say goodbye to each other. “Goodnight, Y/N I’ll see you in the morning.” Elvis says softly breaking the pause, before leaning down and giving you a quick kiss. “Goodnight Elvis, I’ll see you in the morning.” You airily reply as he smiles before heading down the hall, on his way to his family’s apartment. You watch his retreating form for a moment before going into your apartment. Stepping inside you lean against the door, and a dopey smile appears on your face as you think about how amazing the night truly had been.

[prettyboypucey]

Weird ~ G.W.

Summary: George is gorgeous. Charlie is a meddler. The snow is cold. (this summary sucks...just read it) 

Pairing: George Weasley x Y/N 

Word Count: 2,404 (who do I think I am?) 

Warnings: mentions of bullying. mentions of food/eating. george is unknowingly triggering? reader cries. idk? let me know if i missed something. 

A/N: part 2? maybe? translations are for romanian via google translate. do not come for me if they are hella wrong. 

Translations: draga - darling; dragoste - love; tampit - stupid 

     I had never been normal. From the time I was a toddler I had stars in my eyes and dirt on my knees. While the other kids in my grade were playing with dolls and dressing respectably, I was riding imaginary dragons and wearing mismatched socks with dungarees and a butterfly headband. Normalcy evaded me even further when at 11 years old, I got a letter declaring me a witch.

     When I first came to Hogwarts I spent the majority of my time alone. It appeared that even children who could wave a stick around and makes things fly wanted nothing to do with the colorful little girl. Meeting Luna Lovegood in my second year was the best thing that had ever happened to me. Here was a girl who allowed me to be exactly who I was with no judgments. And then she introduced me to Neville Longbottom and Ginny Weasley, and suddenly that little girl who thought her only friends would always be the rocks she painted faces on, had found her people.

     Of course, being friends with Ginny Weasley meant knowing her many brothers. So after graduation when I went off to Romania to work with dragons it made me feel slightly better knowing Charlie Weasley would be there. He quickly took me under his wing and became the older brother figure I had never had. After working together for three years, and electing to stay at the sanctuary for the last two over the holidays, he had finally convinced me to come home with him. I was reluctant to leave the sanctuary - the one place I truly feel safe (despite the massive fire breathing creatures).

     Charlie had warned me that being with one or two of the Weasleys was very different from being with the entire Weasley clan. Obviously I knew Charlie and Ginny, Ron had always been nice to me, and I had met Molly a handful of times in passing. However, Bill was known to be quite intimidating, Percy was supposedly very no-nonsense, and the twins (albeit never cruel) had a reputation of being hell-raisers.

     Apparating to the edge of a marsh with Charlie by my side I could see the rising structure haphazardly balanced slightly ahead.

     Pausing, I glanced at the back of the familiar red covered head, “I don’t know Charles, maybe I should just go back. I really don’t want to be a burden.”

     Charlie very quickly rounded behind me to continue guiding me towards his home, “No, no, no, no, no. No. You’re not a burden to anyone draga. Keep your head up and if any of them give you grief - remind them of the giant, winged beasts you can feed them to.”

     Quickly placing a kiss to the side of my head Charlie bounded ahead again to open the door and announce your arrival. Before I could toe off the first boot to leave next to the dozen other pairs in the entryway, a pair of arms had flung around my neck.

     “Y/N! I missed you so much!”, Ginny pulled back, keeping her grip on my shoulders, to inspect for any major injuries.

     I held onto her elbows, keeping her close, “Hi Gin, I missed you too. A lot. I’m loving this new look by the way.”

     She reached up to brush the now short locks behind her ears. A grin on her face as the two of us looked the other over for the first time in months. Ginny was wrapped in a pretty baby pink sweater with shades of red and white running through it. The material was soft against my palm as I hooked it around her crooked elbow to follow her into the living area.

     “You know”, she started, “I was starting to think maybe Charlie had let you get eaten or burnt to a crisp in the land of dragons. It’s been so long since you’ve come to see me or left the sanctuary.”

     “I’m sorry Ginny. It’s just that after everything, I had to keep myself busy.”

     Ginny’s smile softened into one of understanding. The war had taken a part of all of us. Although Fred had recovered after many months, that fear of almost losing such a vital part of their family had rocked the entire Weasley family to its core.

     “I get it, I do, but I worry about you. I just want you to know you’re not alone Y/N.”

     I pulled the girl into another tight hug, “I know.”

     Ginny pulled away first, clearing her throat, “Okay! Now that’s out of the way - it’s time to introduce the one and only Y/N L/N to the Weasley’s.”

     I hummed, “Hmmm and which of us should be more scared?”

     “Oh definitely the Weasleys.”

 ~~~~~~~~~~~

     Meeting the Weasley family had gone much better than expected.

     Molly had opened her arms and home to me as if I was one of her own children. By the time the night was over she had me stuffed full of warm food and drink and donning my very own coveted Weasley sweater, the lavender initial in the middle marking it as my own. Arthur had been very interested in my muggle parents and upbringing, questioning me about the functions of a rubber duck. Bill and his wife Fleur were the most stunning couple I have ever seen, and not nearly as intimidating as people portrayed them. Fleur was pleased when she found out I spoke a bit of conversational French and promised to have me over to Shell Cottage (apparently they have an amazing collection of wind chimes that I am dying to see). Percy was a bit more refined. Completely polite and friendly but he seemed reserved. Ginny had explained in one of her letters how much guilt Percy carried after the Battle of Hogwarts over how he had behaved in the years leading up to that day.

     The twins were much different than I remembered them being from the few times we were around each other in school. The physical differences were clear - George’s missing ear and Fred’s dragging limp were both signs of the prices they paid in the war. More than that however, they had matured greatly. They were still happy and made sure to pull at least two pranks over the night, poor Molly nearly lost her voice after they blew up the turkey. However, there was something in their eyes that had been dimmed. Especially in George.

     His twin almost died that night, and it reflected in George’s eyes each time he looked at his older brother. It was clear that he was still afraid because whenever Fred left a room George followed, never letting his brother out of his sight, and if he happened to lose track of him a panic began to swirl in his brown orbs.

     I was in the middle of watching as George yet again made his way to Fred’s side, clapping a large hand on his twins shoulder and throwing his head back in laughter.

     “So which one are you staring at dragoste?”, Charlie whispered as he appeared out of nowhere.

     I ignored the burning in my cheeks as I looked away from the scene in front of me.

     “I am not staring at either of them tampit.”

     “Mhmm, sure, absolutely, I believe you.”, after a quick pause he said, “It’s George isn’t it?”

     I turned and scoffed at him, “No!… How did you know?”

     Charlie let out a chuckle, “Because I know you my little dragon. I also know my brother, and just between us, he definitely likes you as well.”

     At this I let out an incredulous laugh and glanced back to where George was now telling a story, his hands moving animatedly. There was no way that George Weasley had even a remote attraction to me. He was kind, strong, clever, and so bloody gorgeous it truly was a privilege to look at him. And I am…me. Nothing special. Just a girl who had more dragon friends than human ones and whose hands were covered in scars and callouses and whose socks never matched and had never even kissed a man before. So no, there was no way that George Weasley would ever like me.

     “Hey. I know that look Y/N. Stop those thoughts right this bloody second.”

     “Charles it really is annoying when you read me like that.”

     Throwing his arm over my shoulder he began to lead me towards the twins, “Yes I know and I am sorry in advance but this needs to be done. Fred!”

     Charlie’s voice had gone from a rushed whisper to a jovial shout when we reached George, Fred, and Ron by the fireplace. George’s smile as he turned to look at us sent a million butterflies off in my tummy.

     “So Freddy, I was hoping you could help me out with a top secret project tomorrow for mum and maybe show me around the joke shop. I heard you added some new displays that I want to check out.”

     “Sure Charlie”, Fred glanced at George as he spoke, “I’m sure we can make some time for our favorite brother.”

     Ignoring Rons protest, Charlie gripped my shoulders and pushed me in front of him, “Actually George I was thinking you could stay here and show Y/N around the area. She mentioned wanting to talk a walk tomorrow and I would hate to disappoint her on her first Christmas out of the sanctuary.”

     “Um-”

     I interrupted the rejection coming from George, “No please, I would hate to be a bother and make you be stuck with me all day. I’m sure Ginny can take me.”

     George smiled and shook his head, “No it’s completely fine Y/N. I would be happy to show you around.”

     “Okay great! It’s settled then!”, Charlie looked rather too pleased with himself and obviously missed the look exchanged by his identical younger brothers.

~~~~~~~~~~

     The next morning the Burrow was a flurry of movement as everyone began their day. Apparently Charlie and Fred weren’t the only ones on their way out. The others still had some last minute gift shopping to do and Ron was spending the day with Hermione’s muggle family. After breakfast, a quick wink from Charlie, and a slam of the front door - George and I were alone in the house.

     The two of us stood facing one another in the living room for a few awkward moments before George spoke, “Well, um, did you want to head out as well?”

     “Oh sure! Yes, let me just grab my boots really quickly.”

     George led me out the door and onto the snow covered path towards the small, iced over river. Nothing was said for a while, the only sound was the crunch of snow under our boots and the occasional sniffle from one of our red noses. I was mentally imagining all the ways I was going to kick Charlie’s ass when he got back for suggesting a walk in the middle of winter when we came to the top of a hill and stopped.

     Everything as far as the eye could see was blanketed in sheets of white. Stomping my boots down into the fresh snow, I couldn’t help the giggle that escaped as the snow gave way underfoot. Feeling a pair of eyes on me I remembered that I wasn’t alone and turned to see George watching me with an unidentifiable look on his face.

     “Sorry, sorry. That was - I don’t know why I did that. I liked the feeling of the crunch of the snow I guess. Sorry.”

     George grinned, “You don’t have to apologize. It was cute.”

     I could feel my face flush at his words. His smile grew even wider at the sight of my heated face. My gaze dropped from his pretty face down to my boots. I could feel the thick socks I had on beginning to grow cold and wet from how long we’d been outside. Looking back up I could see George’s deep eyes glaze over. Assuming it was because he had been apart from Fred so long I glanced out at the view one last time before turning back the way we came.

     “We should probably get back. We’ve been gone a while and my toes are getting wet. I feel bad enough that Charlie forced you to do this anyways without you getting frostbite or something. I’ve had frostbite, it’s not fun. And now I’m rambling. I’m sorry. Sorry”

     George was shaking his head at me and said, “You are so weird.”

     Ouch. My chest tightened and the small smile I had been wearing dropped from my face. If I had been able to see past the tears forming in my eyes that were making my sight blurry, I would have seen George’s face do the same. Unfortunately, all I could focus on was that word. Weird. Strange. Abnormal. Freak. 

     Weird weird weird.

     The walk back was silent. A thick tension surrounded you both as thick snow flurries began to swirl down in the midmorning air. Just as thick was the lump forming in my throat as I fought back tears. I know I shouldn’t let his words affect me. He’s just some guy. But deep down I also know that he’s not just some guy. This is George fricking Weasley. With his stupid perfect face and gorgeous eyes and his loyalty to his family. I couldn’t help but be enamored with him from the moment I walked in the Weasley’s front door. So it hurt to hear the man I liked call me that nasty word that has haunted me my entire life.

     When we finally reached the Burrow, George tried to reach for my arm but I pulled away and ran into the house. I could hear that some of the others had returned and really wanted to avoid a confrontation. Once again, luck wasn’t on my side. Charlie came walking out of the kitchen and saw me in the entryway. His face immediately became concerned at the sight of me and he lowered the sandwich he had from his mouth.

     “Draga?”, Charlie’s voice followed me as I finally reached the stairs and launched upstairs.

     As I reached the first landing I heard him speak again, his voice rough and hard.

     “What did you do?”  

[husbandohunter]

Your Stardew Impact has given me a serious brainrot and I couldn’t sleep on it so here

Imagine the boys getting Isekai to Stardew and meeting their (soon-to-be) s/o a.k.a the farmer who found them in the mines and dragged them out.

It’s basically the same as the original but the reader lives in Stardew universe from the beginning.

The Outlanders who trespassed the Stars [Stardew Valley + Genshin Impact]

Synopsis: You were a simple farmer who lived a simple life before crossing paths with these outlanders. A tale of greetings and farewells tells a story that loving someone was like looking at the stars in the sky; a sense of warmth amidst darkness, where the dots connect no matter what distance it was. But just like stars, they were meant to be unobtainable.

(Basically what happens if the boys get Isekai'd)

Genre: fluff, angst (faceapalm didn't mean to)

Characters: Childe, Xiao, Zhongli

(A/n): Hi anon, haha I didn't think the Stardew Impact series would be this enjoyable. Allow me to serve your brainrot. But just for future references there is a character limit! Also it long, a pro tip to use ctrl+F and type in the name :>

======================

~Childe's Story~

The day you met Childe was perhaps during the most fortunate yet unfortunate hour of your life.

Winter comes by, your fields were left dry, what else was there to do other than mining? You were aiming to build a new Barnhouse before summer comes, fishing only made average income thus you decided to take your pickaxe and hope to run into some diamonds, gold or even better: prismatic shards. However, expensive items could only be found in the deepest parts of the mountains, where dangerous monsters lurk by.

When peeking over the abandoned minecart you so carefully shielded yourself with, you began contemplating whether you've just dug yourself a grave instead. The whole area became infested, you weren't in the best condition and on top of all that, you were out of food.

You decided to make a run for it, with the treasures and goodies at hand, you couldn't give up. However, things only got worse when purple mist began taking over your vision, signaling a lava bat wave drawing nigh. It was thanks to your greed that you ended in such a predicament but it was also your greed that brought you to him.

"W-Woah!!"

You tripped with your toe pointing downwards into a pile of wooden crates. The bats swarmed in shortly after, daunting around the area above but you couldn't afford to look. Your face was down to the ground and you could only rely on your ears regarding their whereabouts. As if Yoba heard your prayers, the lava bats could not seem to find you, confusing them to think you've escaped. And so, they flew away.

"I'm never doing that again," The sudden impact was excruciating, you were sure that your lip bled due to biting too hard. At least the floor felt somewhat soft, cotton-like and warm enough to be comforting. Yet, for some reason it was also a little…bony?

"…Mn…."

Your body jerks up like a springboard when you felt something shifting. A man, no older than his twenties, no older than you, lays sprawled out under your form. He was beginning to stir and you panicked when a pair of blue cerulean eyes pointed into your seemingly shocked ones within the close parameter.

Too close.

The man gives a cheerfully wry chuckle, you could practically feel his breath almost, "Well this is quite unexpected, didn't think I'd end up in this position," he jests, soon his expression began to tighten into a grimace, "Mind getting off me though? With all due respect miss, you're a little-…heavy."

You scrambled to the side while still kneeling, "What the hell, who are you?!"

"Hm," The man didn't answer, instead he pushed himself upright and turned his attention to examine the surroundings, "Where are we?" He paused when he noticed how the ceiling was made of rocks, "Wait, is this a cave?"

"Ninety two floors deep and surrounded by monsters," you sighed in frustration while rubbing your head with your palm, "Seriously, whoever you are you shouldn't be here, especially if you're not even carrying the necessary supplies."

"Hey, I just got here. I'm just as confused as you," he puts his hands up in a defensive gesture, "But how strange," he mutters to himself, lowering his arms ever so slightly before pinching his chin in deep thought, "I swear it was the right portal…or maybe it was the other one? Hmmm, could it be the effect of the hidden seal?"

I have so many questions. You sweatdropped nervously. Here you were, hours spent to get to the deepest parts of the earth and looking like a cavewoman while his clothes were practically untouched, nor did they seem to be a recognizable fashion. You've seen many odd events within Stardew Valley but not to this extent, "Alright you know what, let's forget about it for now. We need to get out of here before those lava bats come back for us again. Otherwise we're toast," you gestured to the lava pool, "Literally."

He gave another one of his gleeful smiles, you wondered if he was afraid at all, "Sounds like a solid plan to me. Judging by the equipment you're wearing, you seem to have been here for a while. You know your way around?"

Figures that he doesn't know, you thought, "I'll lead."

"Glad we're on the same page. Though, we've only just met and yet you're still willing to help a stranger like me," he mentions in an off-handed manner, perhaps he wasn't used to generosity ever since being recruited as a harbinger, "But not that I'm complaining. You have my thanks, comrade."

"(Y/n)," you tell him, "That's my name. I'm a farmer that resides in this town."

"I see. A town it is then," he inquires, "Call me Childe, as where I'm from, not sure how to answer that anymore."

"What do you-"

But before you were able to question him further, a hoard of lava crabs were spotted crawling it's way towards where Childe sat. He shot you a confused look and turned to the direction, amusement sparks in his eyes,

"Lava crabs? You've got to be kidding me," your arms have already grown tired long ago, at this rate, you figured it may be best to pay a visit to Harvey's doctor office and check up for any muscle strains that have occured during the process. You most likely have considered how heavy your items felt now. Partaking in another battle would only make it worse.

"Ah an opponent, to think this place wouldn't have a set of new monsters to fight. I was growing tired of beating up hilichurls all the time."

His casual reaction caused you to scrunch up your nose in disbelief, "We're being ganged up on and your first response was that???"

Childe paid no mind, instead he propelled himself back to his feet using his trained reflexes and swaggered towards the crowd, "Relax girlie," Stopping just after a few steps, he turns his head ajar over his shoulder with a floppy smirk spreading his lips, "I've got this."

You held in your breath, wondering if you could trust this man. For now all you could do was sit back and hopefully regain some of your strength while observing by the stacks of crates that were abandoned years ago. The lava crabs formed a straight line in front of him, they were smart creatures, cornering their prey in a very well strategized form so that trespassing was out of the question. Childe wasn't intimidated in the slightest, he merely looked down at them with hooded eyes, flexing his fingers for preparation.

"Lava crab…in other words you're of the pyro element," the harbinger holds out his hand in front of him, trying to cultivate the shape of his bow, "A shame. This fight would end much shorter than I anticipated."

However, when he expected his element to manifest, nothing came out. Childe was left dumbfounded.

"Don't just stand there," you screeched, "Do something!!!"

"Wait," he halts you and tries to summon his bow again. Once, twice, as the crabs grew closer still there was nothing, "My powers…they're gone?!"

"Take this," left without a choice, you pushed yourself towards him and shoved Neptune's glaive into his grasp. He examines it with curiosity, but you knew this was also your own well-being you were entrusting him, "It's really easy to use, just-"

When a crab leapt forward, you ran back to create some manageable space for Childe to move in. He delivers a powerful slice using one arm, hitting the crab's weak spot while tossing it toward the side until a dent was formed in the wall. Your mouth parts, fast, he was fast, you didn't even have the time to blink. It was as if he knew the glaive more than you did. Though, the assumption wasn't that far from the truth. Childe was well adept with swordsmanship as he was an expert with many other melee weapons. Which is precisely the reason why he chose the bow as his main, a ranged device, the challenge to keep him on his toes. Just like he was now.

"He wasn't lying when he said he could fight," you watched in mesmerization, each single blow he delivered deemed equivalent to three hits on your part. Childe was both powerful and swift. He was formidable. The way he effortlessly deflected his opponents despite not having an enchantment ring made you forget how much of an idiot he was earlier before. Soon, the lava crabs began to lessen, leaving what remained of their dusted corpse while some retreated back into the depths of the cave.

"Not bad, it was kind of fun!" Childe laughs exasperatedly, glancing at his blue reflection upon the marred blade, "It's been a while since I last used a sword, and still haven't gone rusty either," he hands you the hilt, "Thanks for letting me use it by the way. You seriously got yourself a sick weapon."

"Keep using it for now, I think I'm a little too worn out to handle it," you say regretfully and pointed your nose towards the ceiling, "The mist hasn't disappeared so there's probably gonna be more monsters we'll encounter soon."

Childe looks up as well, "Huh I was wondering what that meant."

"By the way I've never seen anyone fight like that. Exactly what kind of place are you from?" You finally ask, "You somehow ended up in a cave, without anything to defend yourself with and it's not like you know your way out either. Are you...from another world?"

"Huh didn't think you'd draw that conclusion so quick," he comments jokingly, "Guess there's no reason to hide it anymore. Indeed I am from another world, at least, that's what I can tell so far. I've never encountered these types of monsters either."

You couldn't help but be taken aback by his honesty, "That was strangely easier than I thought...."

After escaping the cave, you introduced Childe to the wizard who lived in Cindersap forest, M. Rasmodius. He was extremely intrigued by the concept of an outlander and seemed happy to be of assistance. Since helping others was the culture of Pelican Town, you commissioned Robin to build a small cabin for him to live in temporarily. In return, Childe must accompany you back to the caves and make up for your losses. It was a mutual benefit since he had the opportunity to fight as well.

Childe befriended the townsfolk rather easily. On friday nights where everyone goes to the Saloon to enjoy their time, he would be found in the other room playing pool with the gang (Sam, Abigail and Sebastian)-- you as well when he managed to drag you along with him.

Crashes at your place when you were busy with the farm. You can bet that he would pop up suddenly midday through your window, “Can you use the door like a normal person???” But despite how much you get irritated by this habit, all bygones are bygones the moment he starts a conversation.

He sticks around as you carry your hay batches, sharing his stories. How the organization he worked in was a powerful militaristic force that had authority over many countries. But you didn't see him as a brute since he only joined for the sake of his parents, for the sake of his siblings and their dreams.

You thought of your grandfather who also once told you to pursue your dreams: live a peaceful life away from urban society. However, as long as the harbinger was with you, there wasn't much option for 'peace'.

"Tell me again why you dragged me out here? You know thatI still have a lot of work to finish back in the farm," you trekked your feet through the thick icy sheets with one hand clutching the zipper near your collarbone. It was incredibly windy in Cindersap forest and Childe happened to have convinced you to leave the comfort of your home for 'a surprise favour'. He purposely made a vague statement to draw in your curiosity but if you had refused-- well, that would have led to constant nagging on his part.

"You'll see," is what he said, it was what he told you through this whole ordeal. He lifted his chin to feel the frosty air against his face, "There's this one activity I wanted to try out. Back in Snezhnaya, I used to bring my brother to go skating out on the lakes. It's deadly freezing there so the ice is pretty thick to work on. Haven't done any of that since I joined the Fatui."

You shot him a deadpan glare, "That's why you brought me out here? Why didn't you just go by yourself?"

"Now that's cold (Y/n),” you rolled your eyes at the pun, “Can't you loosen up instead of throwing yourself in a pile of work all day?"

"It's not that I don't want to...I'm just very busy with the farm since it's the last day of the month. At least I want to do as much as I can before Spring comes."

"Haha you're right but you only live once y'know?" Childe noted happily despite your protest, "And like I said before, seize the opportunity when you see it. You never know when it will be your last."

You cocked your head to the side, "What do you mean?"

"Now let's get started shall we?" As you both reach the edge of the frozen lake, Childe takes a step forward ahead of you, "Have you ever gone ice skating before?"

"Yeah but..." You glanced at the glassy surface with skepticism, suddenly struck by hesitance. The thought of drowning made you retreat your steps right away, "I don't know Childe, it doesn't seem that safe."

"That's true if you're not careful enough," he pointed out, "Luckily you have me to help you with that."

"How does that work?"

He placed one foot onto the hardened lake and parts his mouth into a grin, "Watch."

In contrast to your cautious personality, Childe was considered to be more of a wildcard if anything. He loved adventure, just like you except his side often included bloodshed and the thrill that danger carries. You weren't sure if it was worth putting up with his antics or entertaining his idea of skating on thin ice, but you complied regardless. He had a way of delivering his words through that cheery voice you couldn't deny.

Prior to meeting him, life was boring. The corporate world was boring. You moved into your grandfather's farm in order to search for some form of fulfillment that Zuzu city couldn't give and you thought you did now that you had your very own farm, but slowly you began to pile more responsibilities than you could even count.

Everything you did, you did alone.

If it weren't for Childe, you wouldn't have learned the art of surfing on ocean waters. You never would have known the taste of mixing three different ice-cream flavours together despite what strange names they all had. Or what it felt like to mingle with the townspeople rather than mingling for the sake of business. Suddenly, everything became...fun.

Childe wanted to go far and wide. He was always running, so far ahead, somewhere beyond the stars as he could conquer the world to the point you might no longer reach him.

No longer reach him, huh. Curling your fingers into your palm, you renewed your courage and took a step onto the ice.

At the sound of boots tapping behind him, Childe spins around to see you wobble in your stance, nearly tipping over. He slid across to where you were and grasped your arm before you fell.

"Gotcha."

"Thanks," You sighed in relief, "Jeez, this is harder than I thought."

"Guess this is your first time then," he commented with a bit of jest, "Don't stress yourself over it too much, you'll be okay. I got you."

He carefully led you to the center, staying close in case you were to fall sideways again. You awkwardly tried to keep your legs straight, balancing on your own yet the fact that there was still water underneath struck fear into your nerve. It caused you to tremble and eventually skittered backwards.

"Haha ice skating isn't your forte isn't it?"

"I'm just getting started!"

He takes your hand in his before you could even protest, it was one of his many aspects that you found endearing-- the fact his impulse stems from genuine intentions, feelings, not giving them a second thought. The two of you glide using the soles of your shoes, he speeds up ever so slightly and the adrenaline begins to increase until there comes a rush of excitement, freedom. The stress you once had already forgotten once taking flight upon the ice.

"Look Childe! I'm actually doing it!" You couldn't help mentioning with a bit of youthful playfulness in your voice, "It's so smooth and fast! Almost like I'm flying!"

He smiles quietly from a distance, “See? I told you that you'll be fine.”

It was clear to many that the two of you were much closer than what meets the eye.

Childe began to notice the change in your aura. You were happier and much more soulful. Before you were always on the edge, cautious in contrast to his sanguine approach, he couldn't help but be caught off guard whenever you teased him. Or the sudden honesty that causes him to be flustered. By your side, he was no longer a Fatui Harbinger rather more of a puppy, adorable almost.

But when he saw that the reason you changed was because of him, it brought fear into his bones. Why? How did things get to this point? You were lost in a wonderland, ignorant to the blossom that had sprung inside of your chest.

Maybe it was better to be ignorant. Just live in the moment while it can still last.

"You're leaving?"

Standing at the gateway between the mountain cliffside and the starry sky, you call out to the man you've known in a way that carries more than what words could say. Because he left a mark in your years that could never be erased and here he was, trying to erase his existence completely.

Childe lets out a bitter chuckle, he didn't dare to face you, "I didn't expect you to catch up so quickly. You're quick-witted, comrade."

"It's (Y/n)," you corrected, trying to steady your voice so that he couldn't tell the expression you were making, "Why didn't you say anything? What makes you think that I'll just stay silent and let you go on your own way? This isn't a joke Childe! Don't act as if none of it matters to you because it sure as hell did to me."

His lips that held his usual smirk flattens into a straight line, "Even if I did, would it make a difference?"

The world stills. You knew the answer, he knew the answer, you just refused to admit it. One by one, the stars begin to collect themselves until a bridge was formed in front of him, on another day he would be enjoying the scenery alongside you. But today they would be for you alone to witness. The man who you spent your time with had slowly, regretfully, inevitably became a stranger. He was right. It wouldn't make a difference. You were already aware since the day you met him that he belonged to another world and you willingly offered to help him find a way home.

"You know, you could come with me."

Your eyes jolt open. His voice was so free of care. As if he was commenting on something so minor on a casual Sunday afternoon while accompanying you to the beach. But when you came face to face with the harbinger, his expression lackluster, you knew that he meant every word.

"Just you and me, we can travel across the world to our heart's content. I always thought you were an adventurer just like me and you know what, the farm life just doesn't suit you," Childe slowly extends his hand as an offer, for you it was a temptation, "So what do you think? Care to join me?

Your lip quivers. What he said sounded like a sweet dream that you so desperately wanted to take a bite out of. But even so, you thought about the townsfolk, your farm, your grandfather. Their images flashed in as if holding you back, chaining you to the ground, "I can't."

The answer pained you more than it did to him.

"Figures, this is your home after all," he huffs out, " Now do you understand? I can't leave my home either. If I did, heh, I think my siblings would despise me until the very end and I just don't want that. So no hard feelings, okay?"

You didn't reply.

"Don't worry. I won't pressure you if you don't want to," Childe turns back to the bridge, it was almost time, "Do what you have to do (Y/n), hate me if it makes you feel any better. You can even forget about me," he paused, renewing his resolve, "But I know I won't."

"Childe-"

You ran to grab his scarf only to have it ghost through your hands. He was relieved that he couldn't hear your voice, as he returned to Teyvat, Childe wonders what kind of expression did you have before he left? He'll never know.

---

~Xiao's Story~

The day you met Xiao...well, you weren't in the best of the best positions.

This was probably your sixth attempt trying to make it through all levels of the cave and reach the last floor. The quest had been sitting in your drawer for months.

Of course you didn't expect things to be easy, the fortune teller channel you watched every morning had yet to inform you with any good fortune and you would often bump into obstacles that would halt your progress.

But to be fair, sometimes the colourful ore would attract your attention and before you knew it, it was time to go.

So close yet so far. You dragged your feet tiredly against the ground. What time was it? Who knows. Judging by your state, you assumed it had already struck past 12 a.m.

However, today luck seems to have taken pity on you, just...slightly.

You puffed air into your cupped hands for the nth time, huddling deeper into the touch of your coat while trudging into the cave's cold climate. A little longer, any time soon, you kept telling yourself over and over but as if time was frozen, the wait felt like an eternity. Ah how much you wish to be in the comfort of your soft, fluffy bed right now. Though, merely visualizing the image only reminded how achingly freezing it was so you decided it was best to spare yourself from the details.

"I can't do this anymore..." leaning your head against the ice covered cavern, you whimpered, "I should have stayed home."

As you were about to shut your eyelids, something flashed by your peripheral vision. You darted towards the direction it came from, the light was a bright green hue against blue, could it be, "Warmth!"

It seems you jumped to conclusions too quickly. With impatience, you swung around the corner, expecting to find a heat source, only to meet something much more horrifying.

"KYAH!"

They stared straight into your eyes, those demonic eyes tainted by black and fangs that stuck out of the mouth like tusks on an elephant.

However, when the light evaporated you were able to have a better sense of sight, slowly revealing the monster's true form and the body of a human boy. He fell onto his back with a thud and you used this chance to calm yourself from the frightful encounter.

"He's...unconscious?"

You meekly crawled to where he lay and examined closely. Aside from the mask, there were various distinct features that stood out in his attire, his tattoo being one of them, imprinted in what looked like an eagle. You then realized how unsuitable his clothes were in this current situation. At least there were no injuries so far. But was that a good thing? This man practically came out of thin air as if some sorcery had been committed. Witches never left a good impression ever since they cursed your chicken coop. You were hesitant whether to help a stranger who could potentially be one of them or a creation they cultivated. What other explanation could there be?

"I can't leave him here, it's too cold."

Your gaze suddenly falls upon his covered face. The design, although intimidating at first, upon closer look was very alluring in it’s own way. You haven't stumbled upon anything like what the merchants had to offer in Pelican Town and the mask almost looked too foreign. Was he from the east? Curiosity eventually takes over and you gingerly reach for the mask, sliding it off his face.

"Eh...?" You gasp, taken aback by his striking appearance. A part of it made you feel this was no ordinary boy but that didn't mean he should be abandoned in this environment. It would be immoral to let him die in a place like this.

Before you could even make a noise, his eyes bursted awake, grabbing your wrist in a harsh grip. He used his other hand to push against your shoulder until you were instantly pinned on your back with no opening to escape. You choked a sharp sound as you stared with wide eyes. The man was akin to a beast, he had the expression to match it, like the glaring sharp gaze of wolves that roam at the mountain cliffside near Zuzu city and the ferocity of the demonic mask he once wore. You were breath taken but in a more fearful way as he continued to grip onto you tighter with the possible intent to harm.

"Speak!” He demanded, “What have you done to my powers and where have you brought me?"

In Xiao’s case, he was thrown into another world under the circumstances of fighting against one of Liyue’s unknown beasts. He was on high alert, thinking the fight was still ongoing.

You may look human but you could still be a threat. Xiao is the type to act upon instinct in the moment when something feels out of place. Like the spear he wields, he was trained to behave like one: to strike, strike down his foes without hesitation. Don't leave an opening for them to take the advantage. Xiao is a weapon and violence was what he knew best. He couldn't afford to lower his guard even for a minute.

You could say he left a pretty strong first impression to the point you were paralyzed. As he looked at your face, petrified and tense, he wavered and began to reevaluate things. Large doe-like eyes stare into his feline ones. They didn't seem to hold any sort of malice, was it possible for you to be the one who cursed him?

"Eeeeeek! I-I have no idea what you're talking about, let me go let me go!" you cried, "Please don't hurt me!"

Perhaps he shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions.

Xiao feels your struggle and eventually gets off to give you some space. Your reaction was understandable, he was used to it anyways. Xiao scoffed to himself, why are mortals so weak? Their strength, if compared to the adepti, was separated by a large gap (Like it always should be). Xiao kept his gaze averted to the side as you rubbed your wrist, focusing his attention elsewhere. He glanced at the vastness of the cave in front of him.

Why was he sent here? For what reason did it serve? Ever since he sealed the contract with Rex Lapis, the guardian Yaksha had never entertained the thought of leaving his country nor did he act upon it; he was far too loyal to his god to do so. But here he was, against his own will yet free from his karmic binds, stripped of his divine powers in the return of endless questions about this new found mortal-like form.

What should I do now?

Choosing not to dwell in any longer, Xiao rises to his feet and proceeds to walk the other way.

"Ah u-uhm sir, where are you going?"

If the universe wanted to test him then he'll find his own answers.

"Wait! Please wait up!"

"Tch."

Although he intended to keep going, Xiao heard you running to his direction and slowed to a halt, some mortals surely do not know their boundaries, "Hmph there's nothing timid about you. Leave me be," he demands without turning around, "Don't forget what I'm capable of."

Stay away.

"I-I know that," you retaliate weakly. Just by hearing his tone made you want to melt away and become one with the ice. He was a scary man indeed, the same one who attacked you earlier. But even so, "That doesn't mean I want you dead! If you go that way, you might freeze to death. Aren't you cold? You don't even have a coat on."

"..." Upon the mention of his predicament, his senses started to kick in. As a yaksha, Xiao wasn't able to be affected by temperature but now he felt his hands beginning to sting, trembling from it’s impact. Ah, so this is what it feels like to be cold. Still Xiao was stubborn and continued to push you away, "What happens to me has nothing to do with you. Now leave, or else."

"I-I can't do that!"

Xiao clicks his tongue in frustration. How annoying. This is why he dislikes meddling with meddlesome humans. But quite frankly, he wasn't sure how to handle your type of forwardness since most tend to back away. And so, Xiao does what he usually does, he ignores you and continues walking, eventually you'll give up on him anyway. However he hears a loud thump and whips around to see your body laying in the snow. The hours of travelling in the cave have seemed to caught up that you inevitably collapsed from exhaustion.

Knitting his evergreen brows together, Xiao lets out an irritable sigh.

...

You wake up to find the sky above your head and your coat draped over your shoulders like a blanket. Dawn was slowly rising above the distance valley, you figured it was around 4a.m in the morning. Rubbing your eyes, you eventually noticed a figure sitting across, admiring the sunrise.

"Ah it's you!"

Xiao jolts ever so slightly, peeking over his bare shoulders until you could see the sun's light casted against his golden irises. Did he stay here while you were asleep? Then, that would also mean he was also the one who carried you all the way up from sixty floors below.

“You're awake,” he noted flatly, “If that's the case, then I have no reason to stay here."

Of course, that wouldn't be the last time you saw him.

You were a tenacious human being, always so insistent in dragging him away from his lonesome personality. He resides in the forest and camps there for the time being (similar to Linus since they’re both homeless lol). But you’d always run in, DAILY and sometimes for the most stupid and mundane reasons. It could either be giving him the snacks you snatched off the table since Xiao refused to participate in parties, or fancy seashells you found on the beach. You didn’t want him to miss out on all those things of course! Although he responds with irritation, it was as if his words went through your ear and then out the other. His efforts were futile (however, he was slowly warming up without realizing).

He learns how easily his body reacts in the presence of food purely because he was hungry. You bring an extra set of blankets and pillows to his campsite when the ones you gave him wore out (he didn’t ask by the way). Xiao needed help whether he liked it or not since he no longer has his powers, hence he couldn't run away. He somehow ends up moving in to live on the small islands near your farm.

Xiao doesn't understand humans very much. Just as he was unable to understand how human emotions work. He was the almighty yaksha, Adeptus Xiao and a formidable beast that killed thousands in thousands of years, at least that's what he used to be. Even now he still has yet to figure out what he was or who he was exactly without a weapon to define his existence. He was made for battle but nowadays, he found himself watering plants, chopping down trees and throwing seeds to the chickens living in your coop. How did everything escalate to this? It baffles him, how much his life changed so drastically.

Haha, you’re Xiao of course! The greatest farming assistant I could ever have.

But above all else, the one thing Xiao couldn't understand among those universal questions, is you.

"Why are you doing all this?" Finally he asked. The urging thought had been persisting at the back of his mind ever since.

You stopped on your tracks and turned to look at him, tilting your head with a complexion made curious, "What do you mean? Ah, did I do something to bother you?"

"I didn't say that," Xiao interrupts abruptly, he folded his arms across his chest and shot you a deep contemplating gaze, " You're...incomprehensible. All I did was drag you out of that cave yet why are you so kind to me? Don't you think you're extending yourself too much just because of one little deed?"

Because to him, saving a life was the norm. He does it unconditionally just like you helped him with those same intentions. Except, Xiao had been pursuing corrupted souls behind the scenes all this time and expected nothing in return. Experiencing someone's gratitude was rather new.

You shook your head, "It wasn't small to me," a satisfactory smile melting onto your face, "I'm here at this very moment, feeling the wind against my skin and smelling the scent that nature carries, these are just the few things I cherish. It's thanks to you that I can still watch over grandpa's farm, that's why I don't feel like I'm overextending myself in any way," suddenly you beam at him, "At first I thought you were a scary person. Haha. Time flies so fast, it's amazing how much can happen in between."

"Hn, you're a simpleton. But that's not a bad thing..." he points out curtly yet softly, "Do as you wish, I won't stop you so feel free to call my name whenever you need my help. I'll be there."

Xiao also finds you to be very clumsy. He couldn't leave your side even for a minute. But that was a lie. He just grew very attached to you.

When you tell him that you've been going into the mines for a quest, he tells you that you're far from capable. So he teaches you how to wield a weapon properly. Xiao was a strict teacher and he intends to keep it that way, he wouldn’t even allow you to set foot in the mines until he finds you capable enough.

You were a meek yet optimistic person, yet you were also strong-willed.

For a place that wasn't his home, he felt it was. And he found that it was all in your presence. Those peaceful hours hiding inside the barn while a storm rages outside, you sit beside him while hugging a sheep close to your chest. Xiao learns how to feed some of them, he even brings seeds for your hen house too. If you were ever short on materials, Xiao would travel to the enchanted forest behind the wizard's tower and get them for you, no matter how late it was. Though if you went by yourself, he'd deliberately go with you despite your protest.

The minute Xiao realized how much he was attached to you, it was devastating. As if the claws of his karmic debt had come back, pulling him into the shadows once more. He was an adeptus with a contract and bound by his duty, he must choose between his god who saved him from a nightmare and you, the girl he fell for, showed him that the world was indeed a beautiful place, he was stuck in an equilibrium and he felt that the binds may even tear him apart if he kept resisting.

But when did he ever have a choice?

"Where are you going Xiao?"

When he heard your voice calling his name, the yaksha willingly pulled himself to a halt. His sunset eyes narrowing from guilt before it shuts with a trembling sigh out of his mouth. Why is it that you always appear during the moments where he desperately needs to get away from you? He planned to sneak out the door, making sure his footsteps were unheard while you slept. And by the time you woke up, he didn't have to face you, he wouldn't have to say goodbye. He won't. Even if what he was currently doing said otherwise. He will never hear himself say those words.

"Xiao?"

Yet, he cannot refuse you. Not now, not ever. You were breathtaken to see a type of expression that you never thought was possible for him to make. The creases that once formed between his slender brows, the heaviness he always carried in his expression was replaced by a sense of sentimentality. Before you could register what was happening, Xiao took his step towards the porch of your house, not once did he tear away from your attention. He slides his hand beneath your jaw and affectionately against your cheek, the fondness evident in his gaze that you almost felt imprisoned by it.

"You never fail to appear in the most inconvenient of times," He gives a weak smile, a smile that makes your heart swell. Despite how much you could drown in his honesty, you couldn’t help but feel there was something wrong, “No matter how many times I’ve tried to push you away.”

You don't know him. You don't know his history and what things he committed in the past. But as if you've known this whole time, Xiao couldn't picture you leaving him for those reasons.

“You’re gentle but you don’t let others put you down. You’re kind but you don’t allow it to be your weakness. I sometimes wonder how it is possible for anyone to be so forgiving?”

"I-I don’t understand why you’re this Xiao. Is something happening?”

He won’t tell you. He doesn’t see the reason why you need to know.

You wince when something poked the side of your neck and you realized it was a tranquilizer. You looked at Xiao with dismay, his face becoming hazier until your vision darkened and could no longer hold your own weight. Xiao caught you around the waist with one arm as you fell unconscious.

"How can you be so stupid...?"

But he speaks as if those words were meant for him.

Pulling your body closer to him, Xiao chains you down into a desperate embrace. A silent scream of desperation. His forehead pressed against the bent of your shoulder and the other arm rested his hand at the center of your back. He will relish in the shape of your body, memorizing every curve both perfections and flaws. The way you fit into his arms and the pleasant smell of nature that you taught him to love, this was the only remnant he was allowed to take. Every detail, he will remember it as if clinging to the last moments of his whole world.

If he was allowed to have a desire, let him meet you again. He prayed to a god, any god-- even if it meant damaging his oath, he will accept his punishment. He prayed to each star in the sky and if he must he'll pray to the devil himself, whatever it is, he will do it for you.

As he painfully lets go, Xiao lets his hand slide off your body until the last thing he felt was the very tips of your fingers. He settles you down gently into your bed. You belong here in this peaceful world, not the one riddled with monsters.

---

~Zhongli's Story~

The Skull Cavern was considered to be the most dangerous mine of Stardew Valley. It wasn't your intention to run into any trouble, all you wanted was to test your cool new galaxy sword on some easy monsters and then be on your merry way. At first.

Just one more floor. You say, before catching an arm sticking out a pile of rocks.

"I-Is that a person?!!!"

You dug as fast as you could, any time soon the mummies would wake up and start attacking. Quick quick! Moving the last rock, you saw the face of a young man, he was asleep but alive! and undeniably attractive oh wow *lip bite*. But despite your attempts of shaking him awake, it was fruitless and the monsters weren't waiting.

Taking out two warp totems, you raised it to the ceiling and chanted a teleportation spell.

It wasn't everyday that you brought a man to your house.

But when you did, he wouldn't be from a cave, six floors down and buried in a place filled with monsters.

"And this small black device you say is some form of communicator? That certainly is intriguing, never in my years have I heard of something so advanced."

However you were beginning to think otherwise. That this man would have been from the prehistoric ages who you managed to unbury after his thousand year slumber. Zhongli sits on the couch across from you while examining your smartphone, a term he claimed had been completely foreign. You were contemplating whether you should bother Harvey despite being past his work hour and book an emergency appointment to see if this man had a special case of amnesia.

You brushed the idea away. There was so much going on and nothing made sense, for now, you decided to settle this on your own.

"Uhm Zhongli is it?" you asked nervously, "Maybe you can try giving the name of a relative or someone you know. I can use the phonebook to see if I can find their number."

“Number?” He parroted.

You blinked a few times, making sure if you heard him correctly, “Yes, number. You know? To communicate?”

"I appreciate your kind gesture," Zhongli acknowledges in a polite manner, "But that won't be necessary. This device doesn’t seem to be at a level where it can communicate with the people from my homeland."

If he was travelling then how the hell did he end up in THE Skull Cavern is what I wanna know!

“T-Then if you don't mind me asking, where are you from?"

Zhongli takes this moment to think of an answer, aware that if he blurted something out it would not have translated in the way he wanted. But you so kindly invited him to your humble household that he felt it would only be proper to owe you an explanation, "I suppose a land from afar."

You sweatdropped, "Suppose?"

"Yes. Although I won't spare you the details since this is not your burden to bear, it’s quite difficult for me to try and remember exactly what happened," Zhongli took his chin into his hand, fingers almost covering his mouth, "Perhaps I would need search for clues in order to refresh my memory."

Oh no he really does have amnesia!!

"A-Actually why don't I just call the local doctor, I'm sure he wouldn't mind giving you a hand," you say while taking your iPhone.

"A doctor? There's no need," dismissed Zhongli, "My condition is only a minor one and I do not think I'm in a position to afford medical assistance. Besides, you have done more than enough. May you find great fortune in your years Miss (Y/n), I shall be on my way."

He pushes himself up from the couch and you watch him cross towards the door. But just when he was about to reach the space of your carpet, Zhongli pulled to an abrupt stop.

"Ah yes,” He began as if remembering something, “ Do you happen to know where the nearest Inn is located? I would need to find a place to shelter for the time being."

"..."

This was how the former god ended up being your roommate. Like Xiao, Zhongli also takes upon a human form. He needed to eat, drink and a place to sleep. He insisted that he would take the couch as well as help you with any tasks that needed to be completed during the day.

You question if Zhongli was even aware of what situation he was currently in. Answer: HE WASN'T because Zhongli is an extremely dense man. To feel embarrassed was not part of his dictionary when living with a woman.

The type to take long showers. You always find the bathroom steaming because he doesn't turn on the fan to get rid of it (but maybe you should've taught him). So when it was your turn to use the shower, the water was either lukewarm or worst case scenario, cold.

Also he somehow finds your old kettle (that your grandfather used) to brew tea even though you told him you already had a water boiler. He stated that he liked doing things the old-fashioned way, it brings him a sense of nostalgia. You couldn't understand what he meant (unless you considered that he was older than he seemed....no that can’t be it!)

Despite it all, Zhongli was incredibly polite and considerate. Tending the farm was not an easy job and you often came home with sore muscles, fatigued from running so many errands. He's knowledgeable in terms of making the best herbal mix for a soothing remedy.

You would see a warm cup, every morning before going to work and every time you come home, it was sitting on the kitchen table (if his drink had potion effects, they would be regeneration).

Gentle he was but it wasn't good for your heart.

Ever since Zhongli moved in, it became difficult to live in your own house.

There were many situations where he caused trouble despite not intending to cause disruption to your daily routine. And when he did, the repairs came out of your own pocket. One time you opened your microwave to find thick ash and burnt cinders stuck upon the walls.The entire space was a hazard and needed to be dispensed immediately since Zhongli thought that plastic-wrapped items were allowed to be microwaved. Another incident, as bizarre as it sounded, was when your vacuum cleaner zoomed out of your house...and never came back. You remembered the awkward cough he gave when you shot him a deathly glare, hence why Zhongli was not allowed to touch your high-tech devices (if you considered them high-tech) without your permission.

Even so, you couldn’t bring yourself to hate him. It was the opposite in fact. One day, all the flaws you counted suddenly became his charms. You came to find them endearing almost.

Zhongli was a handsome man. He carried himself with a distinct aura that could only be found in the rarest geodes; revealing orestones mined from the depths of a forgotten cave, sometimes in the shape of exquisite artifacts-- a type of ancient charm. Perhaps that was why people were willing to obey his every command without hesitation. Whenever Zhongli spoke, it was full of firmness and authority yet somehow deprived of arrogance. He was polite to all and does not indulge in conflict despite how tempting gossip can be in modern society. Always patient during your temperamental moments and considerate to the point you wonder if he even had any desires. He was so kind that soon enough, you couldn't help but be flustered by his presence. Forget about having a conversation, maintaining his leveled gaze was already enough of a challenge. Like staring into the sun after the morning dew. So gentle and so very comforting. But the more you linger onto the sun, it's rays will continue to set ablaze, eventually bringing you pain.

And you feared that you have grown addicted to those feelings.

Why can't he understand?

Stopping at the center of the bridge, you kept your head low while letting the anger take form into your tightened fists. The town was empty with only the sound of water flowing beneath your feet, filling the heavy air. They rippled and swayed, peaceful amongst your inner turmoil. The fact that such a miniscule attribute was able to make your blood rise was hilariously pitiful. How did you stoop to a point that even nature, the very being you've tended for a living, could bring you bitterness? Were your feelings this uncontrollable? The answer was obvious. It spiraled, violently and mercilessly as if commanded by another. There was a wave of emotions filling your heart and you could almost feel yourself drowning from the inside. If only they were as tranquil as the ones you stood upon.

"I thought I would find you here."

The voice you dreaded calls from across and you fight to keep yourself from gasping. Oblivious to it all, Zhongli proceeds to close the distance until he towered over you, looking down to your bowed head, "When you hadn't returned home without a notice, I was getting worried if something had happened. But I'm glad that wasn't the case."

Your whole face clenches.

"Is something bothering you? If you would like, we can discuss it after eating dinner. Come, I have already prepared our meal while you were gone as well as turning off the rice cooker once finished. I hope it can ease your stress since I know it can be difficult maintaining a farm like this."

"Zhongli."

He blinks hard when the sound of his name falls out of your lips. Zhongli was an experienced observer and listener, he was able to catch the glimpse of frustration that dripped from the tone you used. Relaxing his poised shoulders, Zhongli carefully asked in a reserved manner, "Have I...done something to make you upset?"

A trembled breath escaped when you breathed out. Dense. He was so dense that sometimes it made you want to crack him open.

"Tell me..." you began, "Are you also like this with other women?"

The former god sets a brief sharp pause, "I beg your pardon?"

"I'm talking about the way you act, they're...giving me all these mixed signals. We've been living together for months, we even share meals together! And sometimes you would help me with the farm and when I didn't ask, you still insisted on tending to my needs when I felt sick. I just…” you trailed off, trembling ever so slightly, "It's all perfectly normal. You’re nice to everyone. I know that. I know that!"

"(Y/n)," Zhongli whispered. They sounded like a thousand needles to your heart.

"I doubt you have the intention to put me in this situation. You're a really great person Zhongli but I sometimes can't help feeling this isn't just some roommate thing you know?" closing your eyes, you thought of your past relationships, how they started and ended, "Do any of your actions mean anything to you? Do you know how it makes me feel? Or am I just overthinking this, that it was all one-sided this whole time?"

Alas the truth spills and the air stills, bringing the waves to a halt. Peace, tranquility, nothingness. That was all you wanted. That was all you heard. It was deafening.

"I see, so that's why," Zhongli mutters to himself with eyes narrowed, "There's...something I need to confess."

After several months, he tells you everything. How his memories returned, some of them were already intact. He told you about his homeland and his true identity, that he was a god that once ruled over Liyue for six centuries before giving away the gnosis.

The reason why he hadn't said anything until now was because there will be a day where Zhongli must depart and return to Teyvat. He was a god with a contract, the circumstance didn't matter, he must stay with it until the very end of time.

Through his years, Zhongli learned to cherish his finite moments. He didn't want to taint them with troubles to come. Thinking too far ahead into the future would only bring strain.

But what he didn't tell you was his true feelings. You were a sweet woman, tender and enthusiastic about agriculture, the way your feelings extend to the earth with grace whereas many others chose to trample over without hesitation, he fell deeply in love with that side of yours. You taught him many things and showed him many sides of humanity that he had never seen before. He even discovered an aspect of himself. Like breaking a geode, revealing the beauties held inside.

Zhongli couldn't look you in the eye when your expression was covered in disbelief. He thought he hid his feelings well but it seemed that he was expressing his love in subtle and subconscious ways that eventually drove you to fall for him as well. You didn't stop him when he left the bridge. He wasn't even in your house. He chose this, he chose to set you free from his heavy presence.

And as the weight started to lift from your shoulder, you sank to your knees and wept. It was cruel of him. To give you these emotions yet he could not bring himself to stay by your side. But your heart would not allow you to hate the man you love.

Things couldn't end this way. You had to say goodbye to him, see him one last time because if you didn't, these burdens will haunt you forever.

When Zhongli looked up to the sky he saw his ending drawing near.

Three days had passed since he last spoke with you and he had no plans in seeing you again. Soon, the former god will return to his rightful place. Even though he had already given his gnosis to the Cryo Archon as Liyue already began to enter a new era, it seems that his decisions weren't his to make as he was born in a world where stars ruled above the archons. Fate-- they won't allow it. He does not belong here. If there was one thing Zhongli regretted during his time in your world, it was that he couldn't leave you a good memory before taking his departure. The sight of your large glassy eyes and quivering lips when he crushed you with the truth, he sincerely believed that they would haunt him much more than it probably did to you. But perhaps things would be easier if you despised him. Because if he had stayed and you came to forgive him, he would no longer have the strength to let go.

Despite it all love was indeed a selfish creature. He couldn't help but feel resentment towards the stars for bringing you into his life in such a mockingly sweet manner. They tied him with a contract, made him vow to his own beliefs and tested them by using you-- a bystander struck between the crossfire, eventually bringing you down into the depths of his battlefield and he thought that maybe...maybe there was hope that he could bring you with him as well.

How disgraceful for a god to let the devil tempt him so.

Zhongli was thankful that you weren't beside him. Otherwise he would dance with the ugly hope of a slim chance for you to come along. This was the best choice. It was for his-- your own good.

"Zhongli!"

The arch of his lined eyes shot upwards. As if fate had decided to give him one final test, he felt your small figure crash into him from behind and your arms coming to hug around his waist, tightly and fearfully that he felt like you would be the one who would slip away instead.

"I...I made it time," you panted, burying your nose into his clothed back, "I’m so glad...I'm so glad you're still here…!"

Your cry of relief was a thunder to his ears, a reminder that he was the main cause. Zhongli, casted by solemn smile, lifts his hand to cover over yours and grasped onto them, I'm here, he wishes to say. Yet he knew they were only temporary promises, "To come all this way despite everything that has happened. You foolish girl..."

"It's your fault Zhongli, I'm a fool because I love you! It's all your fault that I have to say goodbye," You grit your teeth as the tears fell down your face until it blended into his clothes, "Take me with you. Please. Don't leave me all alone…!"

The words he wanted to say melted into a silent gasp through parted lips. Zhongli merely clenched them back together and his hand on your hand, even tighter. He won't lie to you. At the very least, let his actions speak for him where he himself could not.

Take me with you.

Don't leave me alone.

Goodbye.

If it is fated Morax...we will meet again.

"I see," letting his thoughts echo in his mind from the distant memories, the former god begins to take a new perspective upon his wisdom, "For many years, I have experienced countless farewells from the people I've come to known," Zhongli reminisced, tilting his head back with his golden eyes against night, as if searching for some sort of answer, "And yet I never thought what it must have felt like being in their position."

"Zhongli…" you trailed off, "Then don't! I may not know everything about you but it doesn't have to be this way. At least, just answer me this, will I ever see you again?"

"I'm sorry (Y/n)," he apologized and you knew the answer. He gently pries your arms off him, turning around so he could swipe the corner of your eyes dry. There was a glowing reverence in his countenance, one that he reserved for you and only you, it was the only way for him to express the feelings that run deep in his heart, "I cannot thank you enough for coming into my life. If there will be a day when I erode from your memories, I truly hope that you will find someone more suitable than I."

"That's ridiculous," defiantly, refusedly, you protest, "No one can replace you."

Zhongli laughs sadly as the white halo outlines his whole figure, signaling that there wasn't much time left. He wonders if there was anything he could do in his last moments, a small token, something, it could even be as small as a single star in the sky, "If it is fated...we will meet again."

You watch him turn transparent until he slipped from your grasp. No longer was the man, only the dust being one with the sky. They shone brilliantly but you were left in the darkness.

[mostlycompetentwriter]

Wow, he’s hot

“Pairing: Fem!Reader x Seo Changbin (SKZ)

Word Count: 8K

Genre: Neighbors to Lovers? Lol

Warnings: Aged up characters (Changbin is ten years older than the reader), explicit sexual content, language, drinking

Summary: You were a fresh college graduate, returning home for the summer before starting a bright, shiny new position in the city, but you certainly weren’t expecting to fall hard for your neighbor. 

A/N: I hope at least one person gets my reference/pun at the end....But seriously? Oh, what have I done...

Your roommate was hungover again, dressed to the nines in a purple bathrobe and pink fluffy slippers as she attempted to move huge boxes of random shit between her bedroom and the foyer of your shared apartment. 

It was priceless entertainment, at least in your opinion, especially after witnessing your roommate in rare form the previous night dancing from one frat boy to the next, draining entire bottles of alcohol like she needed the liquid encouragement. 

From what you had observed, she was determined to embarrass you at all costs, and under normal circumstances, you could’ve avoided her rather inappropriate behavior in exchange for your regular hook-up, Joshua. But he decided to remain mysteriously absent for the entire evening, which meant that you had been stuck watching over your roommate, hoping that she wouldn’t get you kicked out again....

“I know what you’re thinking, Y/N,” Laura huffed, pausing next to the counter-top where you sat. “What did you expect? It was my last night of freedom before going back home.”

“Yeah,” you snorted. “It was mine too, but I wasn’t plastered face-down in the shower last night.”

“Whatever,” Laura grimaced. “Did you sign off on the lease yet?”

“I did it earlier,” you replied. 

“Our bitchy landlord’s been complaining all week,” Laura said. “I’m tired of her late-night phone calls, plus my mom’s been really annoying about the move.”

“Oh?” you questioned. “When is she coming?”

“In like an hour,” Laura huffed. “Why do you think I’m busting my ass to pack everything?”

“I don’t know,” you said. “Maybe you needed a distraction from thinking about puking in the bushes behind the frat house last night.”

“Oh, shut up about that!” Laura hissed, slapping your arm as you kept laughing. “Isn’t you brother coming tomorrow?”

“Ugh, yeah,” you groaned. ��He said he has to come super early because of work, but my ass doesn’t start functioning until at least 8:00.”

“Well, at least tell Chan ‘hi’ for me,” Laura said, giggling like a love-struck teenager because she had been infatuated with your older brother for years.

“If I remember to tell him,” you grumbled, stretching out your arms and deciding that it might be useful for you to start packing as well, especially since the most you would be able to accomplish tomorrow morning at the ass crack of dawn is following Chan around the apartment in a zombie-like state as the two of you loaded your belongings into his car.

“Don’t forget that I’m coming to visit next week,” Laura said, and you perked up a little at the idea of having your friend come around, especially since the two of you had just graduated together and those long days and nights of being glued together at the hip were coming to a bittersweet end.

“Sounds good,” you agreed, checking your phone one last time to see a weird gif from Chan (as you had come to expect from him) before joining your roommate in packing up the remainder of your former college life.

Chan had always been prompt when it came to his familial obligations, and the two of you spent two hours loading all of your stuff into his car before starting the long drive to your old childhood home. A place that you hadn’t ventured to since leaving four years ago to start undergraduate school.

“Looks the same,” you remarked, sunglasses perched low on your nose as you allowed the window to roll down to take in some fresh air.

“What did you expect?” Chan asked, humming away to whatever shitty metal song he had playing over the radio.

In a totally random and last-minute decision, you had decided that for the next three summer months while you were stuck in an in-between phase, you were returning home for a while before you were set to move into a new apartment in the city close to where you would be working full-time. It seemed logical to save money, and there was a small part of you that did miss your family and old friends. 

Of course, despite Chan’s dismissal of your earlier nonchalant comment about the unchanging surroundings of your hometown, you were startled when you realized that the old house next door, which used to be occupied by an elderly couple until they moved away during your senior year of high school, was missing it’s familiar ‘for sale’ sign in the front yard, and there was a black Mustang in the driveway.

“Home sweet home,” Chan sighed when he stopped in the carport attached to your former two-story staccato, opening the door with a grumble. 

You frowned, following him around to the back of his car. “Someone bought the house next door?” you asked, dragging your eyes away from the sleek, shiny sports car to look at your brother.

Chan grunted as he heaved your suitcase from the trunk. “Yeah, they moved in last month. I think the owner is a lawyer and he lives there with his daughter.”

“Huh,” you remarked. “That house has been vacant for years.”

Chan shrugged. “Yeah, well, the guy who lives there now is really nice. Mom and dad babysit for him a lot when he’s working.”

“Great,” I muttered. “They’ll rope me into helping.”

“S’ not so bad,” Chan said, growling in frustration when your suitcase fell over to the side with an unpleasant crash. “Can you help or what?”

You laughed at your brother’s outrage, reaching back to pull your hair into a messy bun. 

Meanwhile, you noticed the front door of your house opening from the corner of your eye, smiling when your mother shrieked and rushed down the sidewalk to meet you halfway in a long-winded embrace. “Y/N!! I’m so glad to see you.”

“You’re crushing me,” you heaved through constricted lungs, accepting your mother’s open arms even if it was a little over-eager.

“Oh! I’m sorry, dear,” she said, pulling back just enough to allow oxygen to circulate once again, but not enough to pull you away from her mushy kisses. “You look so healthy and beautiful!”

“Yeah, thanks mom,” you said, slowly beginning the untangling process of removing her arms from around you while Chan struggled in the background to carry your suitcase up the front steps. “I should help.”

“Of course!” your mom agreed, but a distant tug of curiosity had you turning back to look at the house next door once again.

“Hey? Do you know anything about the new neighbor?”

“You mean Changbin? He’s wonderful, darling. So polite, and his daughter is so funny.”

You wrinkled your nose, never having been a huge fan of kids. “Chan said you babysit for him sometimes.”

“It’s always nice to help someone out,” your mother tsked, and you could recognize her patronizing tone from anywhere. “Such a shame that he divorced his wife. Heard it was kinda nasty.”

“It’s not any of our business,” you reminded her.

“Oh, I didn’t say it was!” your mother sighed. “He doesn’t talk about it much.”

“Jeez, how much do you guys talk?”

Because from the sound of it, Changbin had to be as old as your mom to make this much of an impression. You grinned as you briefly imagined the two of them on the front porch drinking tea together and gossiping about the rest of the neighborhood.

“He’s far more friendly than Mrs. Jones was,” your mother remarked. “I think you’d like him, Y/N.”

“I don’t know about that...”

“Well, you’ll get the chance to meet him tonight,” your mother said, smile full and wide. “I’ve invited him over for dinner!”

Oh, great.

“Can’t wait,” you forced out between clenched teeth, rolling your eyes when your mom clapped her hands together before grabbing your hand to drag you inside, feeling only a distant shiver roll across your spine as you walked onto the porch as if someone was looking at you from afar....

Your mother was hardly the type to run out of conversation, and you eventually were forced to leave her downstairs to argue with Chan over some menial thing that he forgot to do for tonight’s big dinner while you trudged upstairs to find some peace.

Unsurprisingly, your childhood bedroom remained untouched, and you circled around the perimeter, studying old pictures of yourself playing sports and hanging out with friends. Fingers dusting over your collection of old trophies and high-school yearbooks that recalled long-ago days of feeling carefree - with the future wide-open in front of you for the taking.

But you were well off in the present, allowing yourself to indulge in the nostalgia of looking through old diaries and journals before your mother’s voice called you downstairs for dinner later that evening. “Coming!” you called back, pausing next to your mirror to check your reflection.

The smell of your mother’s cooking had your stomach rumbling from the hunger of only stopping once on the way home to eat cheap fast-food with Chan, and you forced yourself to walk like a normal person even though every instinct was screaming at you to find the source of that delicious odor.

You were nearly salivating at the idea of your mother’s homemade cooking, and your hand caught the rail of the bannister to turn the final corner, but the sounds of voices from below forced you to pause at the top of the stairs, eyes growing wide as you took in the sight of the unfamiliar man standing in your foyer, talking to your mother like they had known each other for years. “Oh, Y/N,” your mother said, and you shivered when the man turned to look at you. “Come meet our neighbor, Changbin. I think you’ll really like him.”

You held back a snort at the ironic comment because it only took you a few seconds to come to the conclusion that Changbin epitomized the phrase “just my type.”

He was on the shorter side, built like he had literally spent his entire life working out, arms bulging beneath his t-shirt and chest straining the material tight to his front. So much so that you could practically see his nipples through the fabric. 

His hair was jet-black, ruffled from the wind outside, and his eyes were equally as dark, lips contorted into a self-satisfied smirk that you found exceedingly hot.

“Hi,” you mustered without much thought, nearly tripping over your own two feet on the way down the stairs.

“This is my daughter, Y/N,” your mother said, inviting you closer so that you were standing directly in front of Changbin.

“Nice to meet you,” he said in a deep voice that was slightly rough around the edges.

“Y/N just graduate from college,” your mother gushed. “We’re so excited to have her back.”

“I’m home for the summer,” you explained, shivering at the dark look in Changbin’s gaze. “I’m starting an internship in the Fall.”

“Y/N will be working in publishing,” your mother explained, jumping in while you and Changbin continued to stare each other down - something intense and provocative.

“Really?” Changbin asked, eyes making a leisurely stroll of looking you up and in down in a way that had you feeling extremely self-conscious. 

“Oh! Give me one second to check something in the kitchen,” your mother said, excusing herself with a smile before leaving the two of you alone in the foyer.

You inwardly cursed your mother for leaving you both in an awkward silence. Say something!! You screamed to yourself.

“So,” you started, clearing your throat and forcing yourself to stop swaying back and forth. “Chan told me you practice law.”

“Yeah,” Changbin agreed, and you swooned at his crooked smile. “It doesn’t sound as interesting as your work.”

“I don’t know about that,” you countered politely, but Changbin was unrelenting.

“You looked surprised to see me earlier,” he remarked.

You swallowed hard. “Oh, well when Chan mentioned a neighbor with a kid, I just wasn’t expecting someone so....”

“Yes?” Changbin prodded, encouraging you to continue.

Someone so fucking hot, you thought to yourself, someone who was literally made inside my best fantasies, but those explicit thoughts belonged exclusively inside your head. “Young,” you eventually finished, and Changbin seemed disappointed for some reason.

“I’m 32,” he said, and your eyes widened perceptibly, realizing that he was ten years older than you.

“I would’ve never guessed,” you said. “I mean, not that it’s a bad thing-”

“It’s alright,” Changbin interrupted, and you were relieved to hear him chuckle. “I know what you mean.”

“I’m sorry,” you said. “I can be a little awkward.”

“No,” he shook his head, coming to stand a little closer. “I think it’s nice.”

Oh? What was that supposed to mean?

“I used to have a boyfriend who looked a lot like you,” you went on, freezing when you comprehended what you had just blathered without thinking.

But Changbin didn’t seem bothered at all. “I bet he wasn’t as old as me.”

“He was my age,” you said. “But I kinda like older men...”

Fuck. Did those words really just come out of your mouth?!

“Y/N,” Changbin said, and you trembled at the huskiness of his tone. “You should be more careful.” He leaned in then as if trying to keep whatever he was about to say a secret for just the two of you. “I can be a very dangerous man.”

“O-oh,” you stuttered, finding yourself two seconds away from literally melting at his feet when your mother suddenly re-entered the foyer with a dusting of flour across her chin. 

“Dinner’s ready!” she announced, and you were fleeing behind her without a second thought, escaping the intoxicating hold of Changbin’s presence before you did something you might regret.

For whatever reason, you found yourself sitting next to Changbin in the dining room for dinner that night. 

“I made chicken,” your mother said, gesturing to each dish sitting in a line down the center of the table as she explained tonight’s menu. But you were barely cognizant of what your mother was saying because the close proximity to Changbin was doing very strange things to your head.

“So, Y/N,” your father started when everyone had been served. “I hope your brother was helpful with the move.”

Chan rolled his eyes, but you grinned at your father���s words. “Yeah, I was a little out of it though because of the time.”

“Like I said,” Chan huffed. “I couldn’t get there any later.”

“Let the bickering commence,” your mother said. “Changbin, you wouldn’t believe the fights these two had when they were young.”

“I can only imagine,” Changbin said, and you were wondering how someone could be even more attractive by the sound of their voice alone.

“Do you still need us to babysit for you tomorrow night?” your mother asked. “We would be more than accommodating.”

“That would be great,” Changbin said. “I’ve got a late conference call.”

“It’s no problem,” your mother continued. “Your daughter is just the loveliest.”

“Well, I’m glad to hear that,” Changbin replied.

“Y/N,” your mother said, catching you with a mouthful of chicken. “Changbin’s daughter is such a peach.”

You quickly forced down the food in your mouth when you felt Changbin’s gaze rest on you. “Oh? How hold is she, Mr. Seo?”

“She’s six,” Changbin said, and he shifted in his chair, causing your knees to brush together in a move that you knew wasn’t intentional, even if it didn’t stop your legs from wrapping together. “And you don’t have to be so formal with me, Y/N. Only my clients call me Mr. Seo.”

“O-oh,” you exhaled, reacting to the brief contact under the table, hoping that nobody else was noticing your strange behavior.

“Maybe Y/N could help watch Lucy when you’re gone,” your mother suggested, always the first to rope you into these things.

“Sure,” you agreed, even though the idea of pulling babysitting duty was less than appealing, and you could hear Chan snickering from across the table. He knew perfectly well your attitude when it came to kids. 

“I think Lucy would like that,” Changbin agreed, and you started to nod along until you felt Changbin’s hand move to your thigh.

Just that single move had your entire form frozen in place. 

While your mother continued talking about whatever subject caught her attention, you were left wondering how you should react to the very obvious posturing of Changbin’s hand moving decidedly against your bare skin.

“I’ll probably head back into town tomorrow morning,” Chan said. “I wasn’t able to get much work done.”

You knew it was a playful jab at you, but at that moment you were incapable of coherent speech.

“How is work, Channie?” your mother asked, just as ignorant as the rest of them to the situation unfolding beneath her table. “Anything interesting?”

“Not really,” Chan replied, and you nearly choked on the food you were swallowing when you felt Changbin squeezing your thigh. 

“Try to chew it first, Y/N,” your father chuckled, and you forced a smile which you hoped wasn’t as strained as it felt.

“What about you, Changbin?” your mother politely queried. “Anything interesting happening lately?”

“Maybe,” he said with a tone that was far too knowing.

“Hmmm?” your mother smiled. “You aren’t seeing anyone, are you?”

You knew the question was invasive, but Changbin handled it in stride. “I think it depends.”

“Sounds scandalous,” your mother joked, and you couldn’t have possibly been imagining it, feeling his fingers reach so high under the opening of your shorts that his fingertips touched the outline of your panties. 

You reached down to cover his hand with your own, bringing awareness to the fact that you weren’t ignoring what was happening, and he had every opportunity to pull back.

But he didn’t. In fact, Changbin’s light, playful touches only continued, and you were left reeling for what the intention could possibly mean.

Early the next morning, you were supposed to be cleaning the pool as a favor to your mother, but how could you be blamed for sneaking peaks at your neighbor working out in his backyard? 

“Holy shit,” you cursed under your breath, failing to do a very good job of pretending to be occupied with your current task while ogling the man across the lawn who was in the middle of another round of push-ups, biceps flexing while the rest of his body practically glowed under the sun. 

You knew it wasn’t a crime to permit the occasional glance, but your hardcore staring could certainly be qualified as spying at this point (especially in the direction of a lawyer) - making it blatantly obvious that you were very appreciative of the male form at the peak of performance.

Was Changbin seriously 32? And a father?

The questions boggled your mind, and in your distracted state, you clearly forgot to keep a firm hold on the handle of the pool’s leaf skimmer, huffing in annoyance when it splashed beneath the water.

It was enough to attract Changbin’s attention, and you were sure that your face was just as red as the towel draped over the back of your mother’s patio furniture when he stood to his full height before walking in your direction.

“Were you watching me?” Changbin asked, sauntering over to you with black mesh shorts hanging tantalizingly low on his hips, shirt foregone in exchange for a delightful sheen of sweat coating the skin of his thick upper torso in dripping rivulets. 

“Uh...” you trailed off anxiously, realizing that Changbin wouldn’t be stupid enough to fall for your half-assed excuses, especially after what had happened between the two of you last night. 

“You’re not planning on lying to me, Y/N?” he asked, raising one eyebrow in question.

“N-no, Mr. Seo,” you said, shaking your head quickly, barely keeping a firm grasp of your bearings as he abruptly leaned in closer, musk hanging heavy in the air between the two of you. 

“I told you not to call me that,” he said, lips lingering far too close to your ear for a simple neighborly exchange, and you could feel the body heat emanating from him in waves, holding you completely hostage as you briefly entertained the idea of falling to your knees right then and there. 

“What should I call you?” you asked instead, fisting your shirt between your hands because you were desperate for something to ground you in that moment. 

You could practically feel his smirk, holding in a gasp when his hand settled at the low dip in your spine, fitting into the space there as he pulled you tight against his front. “You can always call me daddy instead.”

Your heart skipped several beats at the scandalous words. Either that or you had just entered cardiac arrest.

But before you could muster a response, you found yourself leaping out of Changbin’s hold when the backdoor opened, and your mother was screaming out your name while waving like a maniac. “Oh!” she said when she realized that you weren’t alone. “I didn’t mean to interrupt!”

“We were just talking,” you quickly inserted, glancing at Changbin from the corner of your eye to see him smirking. 

For a while, the very strange flirtation between you and Changbin simmered down, and you tried your best to avoid him when you could, even if he made that very hard to do since he insisted on doing his morning workouts outside in direct line of your bedroom.

It was during the following week that you brought the divine glory of Changbin to your friend, Laura’s, attention, ushering her into your house when she parked on the side of street. “What the hell, Y/N?” she complained when you started practically dragging her up the stairs. “I’ve been driving for hours.”

“Oh, hush,” you said. “You’ll thank me later.”

“Thank you for what, exactly?” Laura questioned, but your response was to simply push her toward the window, standing side by side as you looked through the blinds.

“My new neighbor.”

“Holy fuck!” Laura gasped when she finally joined you, and you could only nod your agreement as the two of you continued to watch Changbin through two narrow breaks in your blinds, wondering how the image of your sexy neighbor simply mowing his grass could make you so wet. “That man is huge!”

“I think he does it on purpose,” you remarked, feeling your heart palpitate inside your chest when Changbin took a moment to pause his chore, reaching down to remove his shirt and tuck it into the waistband of his shorts.

Laura’s gasp was almost outlandishly laughable. “He’s ripped! Like, Sports Illustrated model worthy.”

“I would buy every last copy of that edition.”

“I’d even go a step further and tape the pictures to my wall.”

You both stopped to look at one another, nodding in your collective agreement. “Not here, though, my mom would freak.”

“Yeah, but how can your mom expect you to just ignore...that!” Laura exclaimed, gesturing wildly to Changbin. 

“She thinks he’s a fucking Saint, but I swear to god, Laura, he’s provoking me on purpose! The other night at dinner? He came over and put. his. hand. on. my. leg,” you said, emphasizing the last line with what probably looked like a comical widening of your eyes. “And he works out every morning in front of my bedroom? What the hell am I supposed to think?”

“No think,” Laura sighed dreamily. “Just enjoy the view.”

“Do you think I’m not?” you snorted. “I’m serious about him doing those things!”

“So what?” Laura grumbled. “Why are you actually worried that your fucking super model neighbor wants to make a few moves on you? I would be honored.”

“I’m not worried,” you huffed. “It just feels like he wants something from me.”

“Well, if it’s a good fuck, then send him all the signals you can, girl.”

“Really?” you muttered. “You know I suck with flirting. That’s why I only hooked up with Joshua at those stupid frat parties. He didn’t care that I was an awkward mess.”

“Well, neither will your neighbor,” Laura said. “Especially if he’s as interested as you say.”

You pursed your lips, considering her comment, but the sudden and unexpected sound of your door opening sent both you and Laura jumping nearly ten feet into the air as you hurried away from the blinds as fast as humanely possible to take up some form of normalcy.

No, mom, of course we weren’t staring at Mr. Seo.

“Girls,” your mother inquired as she walked inside, and you prayed that your mother hadn’t caught the two of you taking sly peaks at Changbin outside, but she seemed completely ignorant. “I have a question for you.”

“Hmmm?” you inquired, innocently enough, trying to act like the position that you had forced yourself into on the bed was totally not uncomfortable.

“Changbin needs someone to watch Lucy tomorrow night, but your father and I already made plans,” she said. “But I told him you would be more than happy to come over and help him out.”

You winced when Laura elbowed you in the side, giving you one of those looks that you knew quite well from countless nights of barhopping as sophomores. “Yeah, I don’t mind.”

“I’m sure you don’t,” Laura snickered, but you payed her no attention as you hurried to close the door behind your mother’s retreating form, breathing a sigh of relief to hear her walk back down the stairs.

In all of your years of existence, never had you questioned the appropriateness of an outfit to wear to someone’s place to babysit.

“Fuck it,” you eventually decided, settling on regular, well-worn jeans and a college t-shirt.

After all, it wasn’t like Changbin was staying for very long. He claimed he had something to do at the office, and you would be all alone inside his house with only his kid for companionship.

Still, after your conversation with Laura from the previous afternoon, you couldn’t help but feel more mindful about how he might look at you, and you forced yourself to wear your most professional smile when you rang the doorbell to his house, counting slowly from one until he opened the door.

“Hi, Y/N,” Changbin said, and you tried not to blatantly check him out; although, you couldn’t help but linger on the tight fit of his shirt across his pecs.

“Hello,” you nearly whispered, cursing your hormones as you followed Changbin inside.

“I actually have something to tell you,” Changbin said, leading you into the living room so that you could sit down while entered the adjoining kitchen.

“Oh?” you queried, as politely as you could, waiting for him to return.

It didn’t take him long, and you found yourself sitting up a little straighter from where you had made yourself comfortable on the couch. “So, I actually found someone else to watch Lucy,” Changbin explained, coming around to land next to you on the couch with two glasses of wine. 

“You did?” you asked, surprised and taken-aback. 

Why were you here then?

As if he could read your thoughts, Changbin smirked. “Thirsty?”

“Sure,” you agreed, taking one of the glasses and bringing the rim up to your lips. “I’m sorry, I just thought you wanted me to watch her.”

“I did,” Changbin said, and he seemed contemplative as he sipped his own drink. “But then I kinda wanted you for something else.”

“Something else?” you repeated because your mind was spinning those simple words in a thousand different directions, and you were only able to settle on one likely outcome when Changbin’s hand dropped to your thigh, reminiscent of your first dinner together from several evenings ago. 

He suddenly moved in closer to you, allowing you to smell the subtle cologne that he was wearing. “You’ve been watching me,” he said, and you shivered, feeling both hot and cold at the same time as you looked at him.

“S-sir?”

“Don’t play coy,” Changbin continued, and you found yourself observing the way his throat bobbed as he drank. “I don’t mind the attention.”

“You don’t?” you replied, a rather useless question considering the circumstances, and Changbin took your glass and sat both alcoholic selections onto the side table.

“Why wouldn’t I like it?” he asked, tracing little nonsensical patterns on the covered part of your thigh. “You’re a very beautiful girl.”

What. The. Hell?!!

“Mr. Seo, I don’t think-”

“Y/N,” Changbin interrupted, and you were so frazzled and disjointed by the sharp grip he took on your chin, forcing eye-contact that was so intimate, you could feel yourself grow a little bit wetter. “I told you not to call me that.”

It was the only precursor you got before Changbin was delving in, gripping your chin firmly as he connected your lips in a deep, sensuous exchange that had you reeling from the sudden 180 degree turn that the night had taken. 

In one word: everything was rough. Teeth meeting teeth, and tongues rolling in a messy glide against one another. Wet and warm. Silky and smooth. It was everything you needed in a kiss to get your gears turning, feeling your pussy positively throbbing in response.

“That’s right,” Changbin eventually said when he pulled the two of you apart - very much still in control. “We shouldn’t ignore this tension between us.”

“No,” you eagerly agreed, diving in once more for another earth-shattering kiss that rocked you to your very bones, taking the initiative to crawl into his lap, grinding yourself shamelessly against the tight bulge in his jeans while your fingers dug their way into his thick, dark hair. 

“Eager,” Changbin whispered between feverish kisses, keeping your mouths locked together at all costs, even if that meant growing a little bit light-headed from losing too much oxygen.

But you couldn’t get enough of him, not after all this teasing and tension. 

You didn’t care anymore, consequences be damned, and there wasn’t a single part of you opposing his intentional touches, giving him enough space to unbutton your jeans before sliding one hand beneath the waistband of your panties. In response, you moaned into his mouth, bracing your hands against his shoulders as he found the delicate folds of your pussy.

“Do you want me to touch you here?” Changbin asked, and you were feverishly nodding, sweat forming at the top of your forehead, trying your best to hold back your loudest moans when he slid right in with little resistance, moving his fingers around the inside of your cunt, stretching and filling you in a way that you imagined was nothing compared to what the thick cock beneath you could do.

But you would take anything from him, savoring the glide of his fingers since you were practically drenching him in sticky arousal, jerking forward every so often when his thumb pressed down a little too hard against your clit.

All the while, you could feel yourself start to break apart from the heated contact between the two of you, aching and wanting for the release that the look in his eyes told you he had every intention of providing.

And you were enjoying every bit of the journey to get there, bathing in his attention, groaning when his fingers curled up just right to tease your g-spot, and grinding down against the erection confined tightly in his jeans. 

Everything was suddenly so much louder, the sounds of his palm smacking against your cunt, fingers gliding through wetness, and the joined harmony of your combined moans and grunts. 

It was a rapid uphill ascent into the clouds, and you could feel him start to move even faster, pulling against the fabric of your jeans, and there was hardly any time for your mind to truly comprehend what was happening. Lost in a sinful haze of lust and divine rapture, wanting nothing more than to just lose yourself in Changbin.

Except he wasn’t letting you simply drown in the pleasure he was giving you, tugging at your hair to bring you back to the present, to the final string keeping your orgasm just out of reach. “You don’t think I haven’t noticed,” Changbin growled into your ear, keeping one hand tight around your waist to stop your squirming as he continued plunging his thick fingers between the tight walls of your pussy. “I see you looking at me because I want you to look.”

You moaned at the explicit expression of his desires, closing your eyes and returning your head against his shoulder, hips titillating according to the way he moved his fingers inside of you. 

“Cum for me,” he said, and you were more than willing to let go of everything, including the moans you had been trying to hold back, filling the house with the loud raucous of your screams as your orgasm snapped and unleashed a molten hot thrill along your spine.

You were gasping for breath, returning from the highest peak of satisfaction, but Changbin hardly gave you anytime to recover before he was removing his hand from your jeans and forcing you into the floor.

“My turn,” he grunted, and the sound of his belt unbuckling triggered some semblance of rationale, and you were practically salivating over Changbin’s cock, eyeing the red bulbous mushroom head and wondering how deep you could take him. “Well?” Changbin prodded, grabbing the base of his thick erection to brush it across the pout of your lips. “Open wide.”

You whimpered, but obeyed, allowing your tongue to stick out just enough to taste the drop of precum leaking from the tip. It was bitter and unappealing, but since it was from Changbin, you couldn’t resist trying more of him, going further and further down until you felt him at the back of your throat.

Your jaw was already aching from the extension, and a distant thought had you thinking, damn, you were gonna be sore in the morning. But it was completely worth it to hear him moan from above you, fingers tightening in your hair as you allowed him to set the pace, rolling you up and down his cock, tongue sweeping the sides and tip and digging into the little slit where you discovered he was the most sensitive. 

At the same time, you were all but humping his leg, desperate to get off again as he used your mouth for his own personal cocksleeve, hitting the back of your throat repeatedly, sending you gagging around his impossible length.

“You take cock like you were made for it,” he remarked, eyes glossing over in a way that had you feeling rather proud of your skills. 

It only lasted for a moment, and he abruptly held himself all the way down for one, two, three seconds until you were whining for him to let you free just long enough to take in another deep breath. 

“Finish me off,” he groaned, and you were working overtime to bring him to the edge, bobbing your head up and down the full expanse of his length, all gorgeous and velvety smooth skin. And you braced your hands against his knees, an anchor to reality, when he finally released down your throat, heavy and warm, causing you to nearly choke as you struggled to swallow every last drop.

“Good girl,” he whispered, petting your head softly as you whined and continued to rub yourself against him, jumping off the brink of orgasmic bliss right after him, allowing your head to fall down between his spread legs.

It was a quiet for a while as you both fought to catch your breath, but then he was moving again, rising from his position on the couch. 

You sat back on your heels at the jostling, whimpering when he stood over you with a menacing sneer, grabbing your face between his hands, forcing your gazes to meet somewhere in the middle even though you still couldn’t completely concentrate. But you were cognizant to at least understand his next words: “Lucy won’t be here tomorrow night, either.”

“Changbin,” you gasped, understanding the implications of his request and shivering at the effect they could still have on your worn-out body. 

“I’ll leave the door unlocked,” he whispered into your ear, keeping eye-contact as he brought his fingers still coated with your arousal into his mouth, sucking while you grew faint at the sight. Then, he pulled them free and knelt down to sear your lips together so that you could taste the riveting combination of your releases on his wicked tongue. 

You returned home that night in a daze, immediately heading for your room after assuring your mother that everything was totally fine with the babysitting, even if you probably appeared a little out of sorts. 

In the meantime, you landed on top of your bed with a sigh, opening your phone contacts to pull up Laura’s name, placing the call without any mind to the late hour.

She answered on the third ring with a curt grunt. “This better be good, Y/N.”

“Oh?” you replied with a nonchalant tone. “I thought you might be interested in hearing about my latest dick appointment.”

There was a sharp intake of breath on the other end. “You didn’t.”

“I did!”

“With your neighbor?”

You laughed at Laura’s shrill tone, rolling over onto your stomach with your feet dancing in the air behind you. “I totally sucked him off.” 

“Shit! How big is his cock?” Laura whispered over the phone as if anybody could possibly overhear your conversation. 

“Let’s just say he’s well-endowed.”

“You absolute slut!” Laura exclaimed. “Did he at least return the favor?”

“Oh, he’s a gentleman,” you explained. “He took care of me first.”

“Details!”

“He just fingered me,” you said, even as your mind sprinted with images and sensations; Changbin’s sultry gaze, defined muscles, and the burning desire he had planted deep in your core. 

“That’s hot though,” Laura said. “I can’t believe you actually did anything with him.”

“What? I told you he was sending me signals!”

“Yeah, but I was only halfway assuming that those signals might lead to his fingers in you!”

You couldn’t help yourself, laughing at Laura’s incredulous tone, and spending the next several minutes doing your absolute best to provide a heavily detailed play-by-play of your evening tryst with Changbin. 

“Lucky bitch,” Laura scoffed at the end of your long-winded tale. “I’d kill for someone to fuck me.”

“Well, we haven’t gotten there yet...”

“Yet? Are you planning to go back to him?”

“Obviously,” you said. “There’s unfinished business that I need to take care of.”

“You think he wants to fuck you?”

“I think he wants to do a lot to me,” you purred, smirking at the sounds of Laura’s outlandish squeals from the other end.

Still, you didn’t think those explicit fantasies would come to fruition so soon. But the next night when you returned to Changbin’s house under the guise of babysitting his kid, there were no formalities between the two of you because you both wanted each other in a way that should be considered improper. 

Fortunately, you were tired of caring about other people’s opinions, and it only took Changbin a moment to pull you into his house before his lips were crushing against yours, holding you around the waist as he started working at your clothes.

If whiplash was a thing in moments like these, then you had it bad, trying to follow the taste of him as he backed you both into the bedroom, closing the door and enveloping you both in the gentle glow from the lamp.

“Get on the bed,” Changbin growled when he finally pulled away, reaching down for the hem of his t-shirt. You swallowed hard at the sight of his broad, toned upper form, stumbling backward along the floor, hopping on one leg to finish removing your jeans for him, leaving you completely naked as you lowered yourself onto the mattress. “Good girl,” Changbin cooed, and you shivered at the huskiness of his voice, rubbing your thighs together in anticipation as he blatantly traced the outline of his cock through his jeans.

“Changbin, please,” you panted, already so worked up from just kissing and feeling his hands all over your body that you were desperate for something more.

“What do you want, gorgeous?” he asked, walking slowly around to the front of the bed as you watched him with eager eyes.

“Want you to fuck me,” you said, heart thundering against your chest when he started working apart his belt, pulling down his jeans and boxers and allowing his thick cock to slap up against his abdomen, already so hard for you even though you had just started.

“Hands and knees,” Changbin ordered, and you were surprised by your quick compliance, supporting yourself on shaky limbs as you felt him climb on the bed behind you, tensing when the head of his cock grazed your wet opening. “Look at you,” Changbin rumbled, teasing you even more by running his fingers down your spine, allowing his other hand to reach around to grope your breast.

“Hurry,” you practically begged him, and it was like the metaphorical band had finally snapped, and you moaned when Changbin took a firm hold of your hips, manhandling you back into position. 

“Good girls say please,” he snarled, and your entire form light up at the abrupt command.

“P-please,” you stuttered, and there was an unholy line of curses that left your lips when he directed his cock inside, penetrating you so slowly that you could feel every inch of him until he was snug against your ass.

“Since you asked nicely,” Changbin chuckled, and you had never been so turned on before in your entire life, heart racing and blood pumping, bracing yourself against the mattress when he started thrusting, gentle at first, but then faster and faster as you egged him on, wanting him to go so hard that he split you in half around his cock. 

“Oh, fuck,” you gasped, struggling to maintain any sort of grip on the headboard. 

“You’ve been holding out on me,” Changbin purred into your ear, sounding perfectly put-together despite the fact that he was literally drilling his cock into you. “All those guys you’ve fucked before, I would think your pussy wouldn’t be this tight.”

“You’re just too big,” you managed, crying out when he grazed a sensitive spot. 

“Oh? Is that why this little pussy is leaking so much?” Changbin asked, and you had no response for him, clearly fucked out of all rational thought as his hips slapped against yours in a bruising meeting of skin-on-skin. 

It was undeniable: you had never felt this full before...like Changbin’s cock was somehow reaching all the way to your guts, and you reached down to place a hand over your stomach, imagining feeling the bulge of his cock against the distended skin.

“How does daddy feel?” Changbin whispered into your ear, and if it was possible for him to literally destroy you, then it would be from that heavily suggestive question.

“So good,” you sniffled, tears falling inhibited, leaving your face just as wet as the place where he was crushing himself into you, repeating the same motion of leaving just the tip before re-entering you with added urgency, cock forcing its way between the slick walls of your cunt. 

It was a beautiful melodic song after that (or, perhaps, hard metal would be a much better genre), the rhythm of his hips rolling against your own, hard and then softer, bruising and fleeting, stuffing your pussy on every upstroke, holding you in place by his pure strength. 

You could feel that strength everywhere, the force of his cock squelching between your pulsating walls, the way you moved up and down the bed by his control, and, when you reached back with one hand to feel his arm, the flex of his biceps as his arms worked to move you however he pleased.

“What will your mother say, Y/N?” Changbin asked. “When she finds out that her daughter fucked the man next door?”

Your mother would absolutely lose her shit if she found out that you were willingly spreading your legs for a divorced 32-year old man who had a daughter you were meant to be babysitting. She would be even more taken aback to discover that you loved and craved every second of Changbin’s cock tearing you to pieces, stretching you so good that you imagined that you would still be gaping in the morning, desperate to have him fill you again. 

“Her little girl screaming like a slut for me,” Changbin hissed. “Say my name, Y/N.”

“C-Changbin,” you whimpered, feeling him roll to a slower pace, merely grinding his hips in circles as if teasing you for the answer.

You flinched and nearly cried when he smacked the fleshy part of your ass, trying to look back over your shoulder to see what you had done wrong. “Try again,” he said, giving you a meaningful look that your poor, fucked-out brain still managed to decipher; although, you were burning in your own skin at the thought of saying it out loud....

“Daddy!” you moaned, and Changbin suddenly reached down to catch a fistful of your hair, pulling your head back and forcing your back into an even deeper arch. 

“That’s right,” he sneered. “And Daddy’s about to ruin this pussy, fuck it so full of my cum that you’ll still be feeling it when you go back home tonight to your parents and lie about what you’ve done.”

Your next moan was the loudest of the night, overwhelmed by the nasty things he was saying to you, feeling your orgasm gaining speed and traction the longer he kept fucking you, cock moving at a neck-break pace, and fingers wet and hurried over your clit.

The combined friction of his cock and fingers had you reeling, struggling to keep yourself up as he pummeled you into the mattress. Taking great liberties in the screams he was forcing out of you, realizing that if he angled his hips with one of your legs stretched higher around his hip, then he could somehow reach even deeper, kissing your cervix and threatening to steal the breath from your lungs. 

More and More. Faster and Faster. Until the breaking point was right under your nose...

The next thing you remember is a release that was so intense, you managed to black-out when it was all over, pussy fluttering around the distinct waves of pleasure, barely coherent as Changbin continued chasing his own release until he fulfilled his obscene promise to you. 

Three Weeks Later

You had gotten awfully good at keeping Changbin a secret - a dirty and scandalous whisper at that. 

For a while, your mother questioned your insistence on going over to your neighbor’s house to babysit, especially considering your history of being less than willing to interact with children.

“She’s not like most kids,” you lied, waiting for your mother to relent before grabbing whatever bag you needed consisting of your overnight clothes, trying to appear as nonchalant as possible when you walked over to Changbin’s house.

Your mother watched you, at first, standing on the porch as if ensuring that you made it the dozen or so feet separating your yard from that of your neighbor’s. Eventually, she gave up on trying to catch you doing something you weren’t supposed to, but you still kept up appearances, ringing the doorbell and taking a few steps to the side to leave enough room for the screen to rotate on its hinges, offering you the irresistible view of Changbin standing there in all his glory. 

“You’re early,” he remarked; although he seemed to take great pleasure in seeing you as early as possible.

“Is that okay?” you asked with a knowing look, and Changbin chuckled while giving you his most arrogant smirk. 

In return, you smiled back at Changbin, watching him open the door just a little bit wider in invitation.

It was all you needed before surrendering yourself to whatever delicious and mind-blowing ecstasy awaited on you the other side.  

Summer of 69 indeed.

[mrs-gucci]

Miracle de Noël [blurb] {Sir Jacques Le Gris x Reader}

anonymous

Oooo can you do a Christmas miracle with Jacques please? :D

a big thank you to my good friend @safarigirlsp for helping me brainstorm this idea. and for letting me steal yours when I didn’t have one lol.

warnings. FLUFF, Jacques willingly committing to one woman is indeed a miracle, Christmas-y fluff, Jacques being a charming man, an admittance of love, general cuteness, they kiss. **no use of ‘Y/N’ in this fic.

no tw’s.

word count: 817

Noël is certainly in the air as Sir Jacques Le Gris rides into the village with the Christmas spirit fully in his heart. His recent time away from Belleme has made him realize two things:

One, that he has become quite lonely in his older age.

And two, that he plans to rectify that by admitting his love for you.

Somewhere inside, to some capacity, he’s been aware of this fact for years. Ever since the day he met you when he was traveling around to collect Pierre’s debts, in fact. But he’s never been willing to admit it to himself, much less to you, and instead he has just tried to, well, fuck his feelings away, with little success.

It's only now, on his latest campaign has he finally found the courage to face you and declare his true feelings. And what better time to do it than Christmas Eve, the most joyous time of year?

His horse snorts and whinnies as he trots along through the crowded streets. He soon comes upon your estate, tying up his steed at the stables before quietly sneaking around the house to your bedroom window.

Suddenly he feels himself beginning to backtrack, nerves and anxieties taking a firm grip. What if you don’t feel the same way? What if this ruins everything between the two of you? Should he have brought something for you, a small gift or perhaps some flowers? Oh god, he should’ve brought you something, maybe if he rides back to the village--

His palms sweat beneath his gloves as he takes a deep breath, grabbing a handful of little pebbles. He

This provides him with the final push of confidence to start tossing them up at your window. God, he hopes you’re here...

The curtains part hesitantly and your beautiful face comes into view through the clear glass. He offers you a small smile as you pull the window open and look down, eyebrows furrowed slightly.

“Sir Jacques? To what do I owe the pleasure of your presence at my bedroom window this afternoon?”

He laughs softly, holding his hand up to you. “Come down. I have something important to speak with you about.”

“Jacques, it is cold and snowing!” You say, laughing softly. “You come up here!”

“No, no, you must come down here. It is beautiful out!” Jacques insists, spinning around playfully.

You sigh, shaking your head with a chuckle as you slip out of the window, carefully making your way down the side of the house. He helps you down, then slings you over his shoulder, laughing as you squirm.

“Jaaaacques! Let me down!” Laughing, you flail about gently, just giving him a hard time.

He sets you down gently after spinning around, which only makes you laugh harder. You smile as you look up at him.

“So, what is this important matter that could not wait until after the holidays?”

Blushing a bit, he smiles and takes your hands in his. “My apologies for intruding on your holiday, milady, but I have been away from Belleme for a short while and I had quite a bit of time to reflect on my life, and the people in it.”

Your eyebrows raise as he continues.

“Milady, if I am allowed to speak freely for a moment...I love you. I love you more than life itself, and I have loved you ever since I met you, but only now have I gained courage enough to admit it aloud.”

You can’t believe what you’re hearing. This feels like a dream, really, especially as the snow falls and lands atop his dark hair and eyelashes. He looks down at your hands bashfully, bringing one up to place a kiss on your knuckles.

“I know that this is sudden, but I just had to tell you. I could not keep it to myself any longer. If you do not feel the same way, then I will leave you to enjoy your holiday, and I am sorry for intru--”

“Jacques.”

He meets your eyes. You shake your head with a small smile.

“I do not wish for you to leave. I feel the same way...I love you, too.” Your cheeks warm as the words hang in the air.

His eyes widen and he breaks out into a gleeful grin. “You do?”

“I do.” You nod, feeling your own smile grow at the sight of his.

Suddenly, he’s pulling you in and leaning down for a kiss, hands resting on your hips. You reach up, slinging your arms around the back of his neck as you relax into his embrace.

He hums, kissing you for a short while before pulling back with a wide smile on his expression. 

“This is truly a miracle de Noël.”

You smile, nodding in agreement as you play with the hairs on the back of his neck.

“Joyeux Noël, Sir Jacques.”

(snowflake divider by @firefly-graphics)

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[raineydays411]

Ember

Tony Stark X Daughter!Reader 

Warning: Child neglect, swearing, angst, death 

Summary: After being kidnapped by Hydra, Y/N does some reflecting on her home life. Especially her relationship with her father

italics = past pov

Bold= thoughts

Italic bold= ghosts 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You never thought your life would end like this. Alone, trapped in a Hydra cell, full of anger and resentment for the one man who was never supposed to break your heart. Of course, up until now you had been pretty optimistic your father would realize the error of his ways and miraculously spend years making up for years of missed recitals, ignored achievements, and multiple other offenses. You always forgave him because, hey the man was a member of the Avengers, what should you expect having Tony Stark as a father? 

But right now, as you lay on the cold, damp floor, writhing in pain from whatever glowey nuclear shit those assholes injected you with, you can’t help but remember the mistreatment and neglect bestowed upon you by your father. 

It was, it was September Winds blow, dead leaves fall

You’ll always remember that September day. The day your entire life had changed 

You were only eight when Loki tried to take over New York. You and your mom were coming home from the store when all of a sudden, people around you started to panic. Looking up, you saw a large portal in a once clear blue sky. Creatures appeared out of no where, destroying anything in their way. Your mother, terrified, took you by the hand and headed for a near by building. But, it seemed that others had that idea as well. Before you knew it, your vision was overwhelmed by the bodies of citizens trying to escape the chaos outside. After a few seconds, you found yourself in a crowed parking garage and no idea where your mother was.

You never saw her again after that.

After three days of searching, the police declared her dead and you were sent to live with your godmother, Pamela Isely. 

She was good to you. She held you through nightmares, told you stories about how your mother and her met, and even taught you how to take care of plants. The only complaint you had was that she would usually leave you alone every once in a while and come back with a lot of money, and occasionally, a loud blonde woman in a clown costume would come through the window and pinch your cheeks too hard. Other than that, you got adjusted to your new life quickly.

Four months passed and your life changed again. It was a cold September day, and you had just got home from school. As you walked into the apartment, you immediately felt a tension in the air, and you saw a man at the table with your Aunty Pam, who looked extremely uneasy and pale. They stared at you until your Aunt spoke.

“Y/N...you’re going back to New York.”

Those words alone made the floor fall from underneath you. You had just settled down. You finally felt comfortable without your mother in the world and now this?? Then the man cleared his throat, causing you to snap back into reality. 

“Y/n, my name is Tony Stark”

 You knew that name, he was the man in the metal suit who helped save New York. You didn’t care at the moment though, you just wanted to know why you were leaving your aunt.

Ignoring Tony, you looked at your aunt and whispered,

 “ Did...did I do something wrong?” 

Immediately, Pams eyes filled with tears as she quickly gathered you in her arms and responded with a loud, 

“Oh no, darling of course not”, She then proceeded to tell you the uncomfortable looking man at the table was in fact your father, who up till now you had never met. In fact, you never even fathomed the idea of having a father as your mom had always told you that you were a gift from some fairies she helped. You turned to the man who quietly sat at the table and looked over the man who was said to be your father.

He was definitely a handsome man. He wore a fancy looking suit and some tinted glasses even though he was inside. His hair was dark brown and messy, as if he was tugging or running his fingers through it. His skin looked to be am olive color but it was hard to tell as he looked kind of pale in the light of the small apartment you called home. You thought it was odd he hadn’t said anything other than introducing himself. 

“ Is it true? Are you really my dad?” You asked in a quiet voice.

He finally spoke, “Yeah kid, I’m your dad”

To you, I did surrender

Two weeks, you didn’t call

It’s been two weeks since you were taken by Hydra. Two weeks since you were injected with that mystery substance. You didn’t die, at least you don’t think you did. But you didn’t exactly feel alive either. You were colder than usual, like your body temperature lowered. You slept longer than normal especially the first three days after you were injected. The guards had to wake you up just to get you to eat. But the most worrying symptom of all is that your eyes were the same shade of neon blue as the liquid that was injected into your body. And everytime your eyes turned blue, something weird would happen. 

For example, the first time you noticed your eyes were blue, you woke up from the first long sleep.The second time, you thought you heard voices, screaming in agony and despair.This was odd because you were the only one in that cell block. As you came back to reality, you realized that you could see other ghostly figures in the once empty cells, and that you were floating three feet above your bed. 

Within the two weeks you were in that cell, you learned that that day you were injected, your heart did stop for an hour until you miraculously sprung back to life with a loud gasp, scaring the absolute shit out of the Hydra guards that were tasked with disposing your body. That would go through physical changes as well. Your once brown skin would change to a pale ghostly blue. And your black kinky hair would change to a shocking neon blue to match the color of your eyes.

For two weeks, you learned the ins and outs of your newfound powers. Two weeks of being pushed to your absolute limits by power hungry scientists. Two weeks of learning the names of the dead around you in those cells. 

It took two weeks, to realize that your father truly didn’t care about you.

And looking back on it, you should’ve known

Your life, goes on without me  My life, a losing game

It had been a year since you had moved into the Avengers Tower with your father. It had taken you a while to warm up to the team and for the team to get used to having a child around. But once you all got to know each other, it was like having multiple aunts and uncles. Especially because you were around them more than your own father. 

Unfortunately, once you had settled in and gotten to know everyone, Tony had locked himself away in his lab. Tinkering on a new project for weeks on end, ignoring his responsibilities as a new father.

Now, this didn’t really affect you till you started school. Tony had forgotten to pick you up multiple times, causing you to wait for hours on end till either Steve or Pepper realized that you hadn’t come home and rushed to the school , only to see you waiting on the front steps talking the ear off of the unlucky teacher who had to stay behind to wait with you.

Of course word got around that Y/N Stark was being forgotten at school everyday, thus prompting the kids at school to taunt you everyday after school.

“Where's your daddy Y/N??”

“I bet he leaves you here so you can get kidnapped so he doesn’t have to look at you”

“Your own dad doesn’t even love you”

Once you got to middle school, you joined as many after school clubs to hide the fact that there was no one to pick you up. And a small part hoped that it would be enough to gain your fathers attention. But it didn’t happen.

“Daddy! I made the volleyball team!”

“hmm, oh that's great kid, can you pass me that wrench”

“Dad! I’m in the robotics club”

“Y/N I’m really busy right now”

“ Hey dad...can you help me with--”

“Not now, go ask Pepper”

No matter what you did, you could never get his attention long enough. Nothing you did was good enough. You never got so much as a “welcome home” or a “ have a good day at school kiddo”. And you were fine with that. You were, because you knew that even though he didn’t show it, Tony Stark really did love you.

But you should, you should not doubt me You will remember my name.

After learning the extent of your powers, which included; flying,the ability to talk and see the dead, energy blasts, floating through walls, and the ability to shut off your powers at will. You decided it was time for you to make plans to escape. 

You’d like to think that you were really good at pretending. 

You did it on a daily basis, really. You pretended to be happy, not to notice Tony’s neglect, like you didn’t see the pity glances the rest of the team gave you. So convincing your captors that they finally broke you down wasn’t really a challenge. 

“....fine..i’ll help you” You said in a tired weak voice.

The two guards were startled at first, not expecting you to speak so suddenly

“You..what?” The younger of the two asked in a suspicious tone.

“I said I want to help you” you repeated a little louder. 

The first guard looked to the second, obviously confused at your sudden change of heart. They had a silent conversation with their eyes, as if debating on whether this was a trick or not. Finally, the older of the two turned to you and said,

“This better not be a trick, Stark.”

And with that, he started to unlock the door to your cell. 

“Okay, now I can either fight them now  and make a break for it, or I can wait till i get to the--” 

Your thoughts were cut off by a loud wailing, piecing your ears and automatically giving you a headache. Wincing in pain you look around the empty cell blocks and try to locate the spirit that’s making all that noise. When you see it, your heart breaks. It’s a young boy, around your age. The first thing you notice about him is that he had white hair, kinda Danny Phantom. As you continued to stare at the boy, his head suddenly turned and you both made eye contact, the movement startling you enough to make you jerk in the hold of the guards

“ HEY, eyes forward!” shouted the older guard. “There's no way out, if that's what you're looking for’ He said in a smug tone.

“I said I wanted to join you, why would I want to escape?” You reply, irritation dripping from your words.

“Just don’t pull any tricks kid.”

God does he have any other lines, you think to yourself mentally rolling your eyes. Sounds familiar.

Oh Ember, you will remember

Oh Ember, one thing remains

“Y/N I’m busy, go as--” “I know, go ask Pepper”

“Oh kid, I’m sorry I forgot” “ yeah, I know”

“You’re on the volleyball team” “ yes dad. For four years now”

“Y/N! I’m gonna be in the lab with Peter so try not to bother us.”

“Y/N me and Peter--”

“Good job, Peter”

“Hey Peter--”

God were you tired of that name. You never ever felt the feeling of envy and anger as much as you did when Peter came into your life. 

In fact, you were still healing from almost losing your family you found in the Avengers. Your dad didn’t want you around the “traitors” as he privately called them, so you were secluded. Watching them from afar and yearning for the comfort of hearing Steves pre-war stories, helping Clint pull off the most ridiculous pranks, helping Wanda teach Vision how to cook, and most of all you missed talking to Natasha. She reminded you of your aunt Pam, mainly because they both had red hair. You hoped that your father would understand this loss and step up now that you really needed a connection, but no. He decided that Peter Parker deserved all his attention. So you stopped trying as hard.

Oh Ember, So warm and tender You will remember my name

You walk into a room with a singular table and no windows. Sat at the table was a bald man writing in a notebook. The two guards lead you to the table and make you sit opposite of the bald man. He looks up at you and smiles.

“So, Ms. Stark has finally decided to comply?” He asks in a smug tone. You roll your eyes and answer back in a sarcastic tone,

“Yeah yeah, just cut the crap and tell me what you want me to do.”

The bald man just smiles and looks at you, as if trying to read your mind to figure out your motives. 

“Well”, he says, leaning back into his chair. “Lets get down to business.” He then proceeds to talk about the process of join his team and what you will be doing. But you don’t hear a word of it. Because you were going to escape this hell hole one way or another. 

“Well then, lets get you changed.” said the bald man. “Yeager, Jennings, take our guest to to her new room. 

“Huh so they do have names.” You think, as they pull you out of the chair and into the hallway. Walking back into the cell block, you make eye contact with that white haired boy again. He’s quiet as he watches you walk back to your room, then he disappears. 

You finally get back to your cell and notice a pair of black spandex, black halter top, grey boots and some black gloves on the floor. Changing into them, you take your hair into a pineapple with a hair tie they had given you. Looking into the piece of metal you used as a mirror, you changed into your ghost form. Suddenly, you hear a male voice behind you.

“Don’t let them know you can do that.” 

You startle and turn around, only to see none other than the white haired boy. He looked equally as startled as he realized you can see and hear him. 

“Why not?” you asked, changing back to your normal self.

“Because, they won’t ever let you leave.You’re already the first one to survive the injection. If they realize you can go ghost, they’ll do everything in their power to control you.”

Your mind flashed to Bucky. How Steve told you that they kept him. Brainwashing him over and over till he just became a weapon. You were not going to let them do that to you. You looked back at the boy.

“Can you help me get out of here?” you asked hopefully. The boy looked at you and said, 

“Well I’ve got nothing else to do.” You let go a sigh of relief. You were about to say something when you heard Yeager and Jennings walking down the hallway.

“They’re coming” You whisper, “ what do I do?”

“This base is small. All the people here are the only ones who know about it. They’re all going to be in the training room you’re being taken to. Wait till you get there, phase into the floor to the basement and blow up the heater. That should cause the whole building to cave in” 

You again don’t get to respond, as the two men finally get to your cell and unlock it. You walk out of the cell, head held high and allow them to lead you to the training room. Despite the look of confidence, you were dreading the next few moments. 

“So how come I’m the only one here?” you ask, even though you know the answer. The older guard looks at you and says

“You’re the only one who survived.” You fake a look of shock and look forward as if the news made you uneasy. And it did. It made you mad that these people didn’t care that they were murdering innocent people. They couldn’t hear the cries and the wails of agony these poor trapped souls emitted. In a way, it was ironic. Back at the tower, you were the poor soul nobody could see. And now you were surrounded by them.

Your heart, your heart is rendered Your loss, now bear the shame

This was the last straw. There was only so much you an take before you broke and this was it.

 Tony didn’t intend for you to hear it, but god did it hurt all the same. One phrase shattered your whole world. 

“You know Spiderling, your kinda like the kid I always wanted to have.”

An tense silence filled the common room. The first time in months you were able to see th eteam and they had to bear witness to this. Of course they did, who else would give you that stare full of sorrow and pity. You barely even noticed though. You were too busy looking at the “heartwarming scene.”

“that's such bullshit” Oh, how you wish you had a camera if only to capture the look of pure “oh shit” painted on Steve's face.

“What..what was that kid?” Asks your father. You turn to him, a fury in your eyes that nobody has ever seen.

“THAT IS ABSOLUTE BULLSHIT.”  You scream. “ FOR EIGHT YEARS I HAVE TRIED SO HARD FOR YOU TO LOVE ME. EIGHT YEARS I JOINED CLUBS, GOT THE HIGHEST GRADED IN CLASS AND FOR WHAT?” 

Tony and Peter look at you in shock “Y/n..wha..what are you talking about?” Peter asks in a baffled voice.

“Oh eat shit Peter! You know exactly what I’m talking about! Do you not find it weird, that your new mentor spends every single second of free time he has on you and not with his daughter?? Or are you so needy for some sort of parental validation that you don’t even care??” 

Deep down you know it’s not Peters fault. Hell, you two probably could have been good friends if your dad wasn’t such a tool. 

“Hey kid, I don’t know what's gotten into you, but that was way over the line.” Said Tony in a stern voice. Your eyes harden.

“Oh, did I hurt your poor little spiders feelings?? I didn’t even know you cared about other peoples feelings Tony? Or is it just your daughters that you ignore ?”

“What are you talking about? I don’t ignore you, stop being so over dramatic.”

OVERDRAMATIC?? DO YOU REALIZE THE ONLY THING YOU KNOW ABOUT ME IS MY NAME??” You are now sobbing. “ Do you even know my favorite color? How old I am?” 

Tony looks at you, eyes wide.”Y/N...” You cut him off

“Just forget it. I understand now. I will never be important to you. Not like Peter apparently is. I just wish it didn't take me eight years to figure that out.” And with that, you run out of the room, tears running down your cheeks and ignoring the calls of your father, the team, and Peter. 

You run for a few blocks and cry in an alleyway. not the smartest idea but you were too upset to care. And as you cry, you don’t notice the dark shadow behind you before its too late and the world goes dark.

Like dead trees, in cold december  Nothing but ashes remain

The hydra base was now engulfed with flames.  Your body was tired from phasing through the walls, and your head hurts from those energy blasts. But one thing brings some happiness in your heart as you watch all the souls that were trapped there realize they are free. All but one, the white haired kid. He walks up to you. 

“So you did it.” He says with a smile. You smile back. 

“Yeah I did.  Thanks to you.”

“Blue suits you.” he says with a blush. You squint at him for a second and let out a chuckle. 

“Thanks” ,You’re both silent for a few seconds, watching the souls leave. You speak up again. 

“Why aren’t you leaving like them” You question him.

“I don’t know, I guess my time here isn’t up.” he says looking out at the horizon. You nod and look at around trying to figure out where you are. 

“So, what are you going to do next” he asks. Your body stiffens as you are filled with resentment.

“I’m going to visit my father.” You say, eyes glowing a neon blue.

You will remember my name.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: HI!so this is my first ever fanfic! i hope anyone who reads this enjoys it!! Let me know what you think and what i can improve on!💕

[queenshelby]

The Singer – Part Four

Pairing: Cillian Murphy x Reader

Words: 2,483

Warning: Smut, Semi Public Sex

 ***The Interview***

It’s been three weeks since Kurt’s stunt and things between you and Cillian couldn’t have been better. Whilst you struggled with comments from the press and the public initially, calling you a home wrecker and making an issue out of the age gap between you, it brought you and Cillian closer together and he even defended your relationship in a recent interview.

Whilst you still hadn’t talked about what you were and where you were at, it was clear to you that you were officially dating. But no one really took you seriously. You were seen as Cillian’s midlife crisis.

Cillian cared very little about the press, ignoring the bad rumours and assuring you that none of this mattered.

He was right. It didn’t matter. People were still buying your new album which, under contract, was unfortunately being produced by Kurt. Under the same contract, you were also obliged to engage in interviews and promotional events.

Whilst you were very eager to simply break your contract, Cillian reasoned with you. He was sensible and you were impulsive.

He assured you that breaking the contract would simply mean more bad press and you engaged Cillian’s agent to help you with media engagements. He seemed to take a sensible approach and asked interviewers to not ask you any personal questions.

But this didn’t always work out, especially when you had an interview scheduled with a London based program whose interviewer just loved to get under your skin.  

This interviewer managed to ask you about your alleged affair by referring to some lyrics of one of your songs.

‘Look, my private life is private and I will not discuss my relationship on this show. But what I can assure you is that there was no affair. We both had separated from our partners when we got involved with each other. The song you are referring to was written over a year ago and doesn’t reflect any of my personal experiences. It was written for a movie and just like the movie, it’s fictional’ you explained in response of the interviewer’s intrusive question.

‘There are many other songs you’ve written which come to mind indicating that you do in fact prefer to be with men who are older than you. These songs were all well received but your relationship is not. How do you feel about this?’ the interviewer than asked, not giving up.

‘Again, the songs are fictional, but my private life is not. That might be the issue. It’s all good if it’s fictional but as soon as it’s not, people get curious. Perhaps there is a lack of understanding surrounding relationships that aren’t the norm. Maybe people’s perceptions will change over time. I certainly hope so. After all, there are so many relationships in the history of the world where people have large age gaps and I believe that every adult has the right to date whoever they want without being criticised about it’ you explained before taking a short pause. ‘Anyway, I would prefer if we could chat about my music now rather than my private life. That’s why I am here’ you said bluntly.

The interviewer finally backed off after your request and your agent had already called in, putting the producers of the show into their place.

Cillian had also listened to the interview and texted you, making sure that you were alright and telling you that he thought that your response was well placed.

Kurt, on the other hand, was once again annoyed with you and sent you a rude text message shortly after the interview and he couldn’t help but try to get under your and Cillian’s skin.

***The Function***

Later that day, the studio was hosting a release party to celebrate your new album which Kurt had organised at the theatre complex function rooms.

It was a beautiful venue but you knew that Kurt would be attending which could end up being a complete nightmare.

This was also the first official event which you were attending together with Cillian and you raised the question whether this meant that you are his girlfriend now.

‘I suppose….I don’t know…do you want me to be your boyfriend?’ Cillian chuckled as he buttoned up his shirt.

‘I would love you to be my boyfriend’ you giggled before giving him a kiss and asking him to zip up your dress.

‘Well, I suppose I am officially off the market again then’ Cillian chuckled before returning the kiss, which was also when you heard the taxi pull up in front of his house.

Your agent has taken the liberty to invite several producers to the party, much to the dislike of Kurt. Kurt was even more irritated when you finally arrived, together with Cillian who was holding your hand.

‘Y/N…Cillian’ Kurt said greeting you both, wanting to shake Cillian’s hand but all he got in return was Cillian raising his eyebrow.

‘Kurt’ you responded with an almost evil grin on your face and just before Kurt leaned in and kissed you on the cheek.

You didn’t stay to talk to him and it wasn’t long until you were inundated by other producers, wanting to talk to you.

‘I told you, she can be a real slut’ Kurt said to Cillian as Cillian gave you some space to mingle, unbothered by the attention you were receiving by several of the producers your agent had invited.

‘And you wonder why she left you?’ Cillian chuckled, thinking that Kurt is an absolute douche.

‘You know she sucked my cock just before I signed her’ Kurt said with a smug face and it was obvious to Cillian that he had been taking some coke again.

‘Nice talk’ Cillian laughed before walking away, getting himself a drink and talking to some of the other artists.

After about thirty minutes you sought out Cillian who was standing next to the buffet talking to two female artists and you decided to give him the same space he had given you. Jealousy wasn’t your thing and you knew there was no need for it.

Eventually, however, you received a text message from him which said nothing but ‘HELP’, making you giggle. He obviously didn’t enjoy himself talking to these women and was being polite, hanging out with them and engaging into some small talk.

Just as you were going to get Cillian away, Kurt approached you.

‘Found a new producer yet?’ he asked and you responded with a quick ‘maybe’.

‘You won’t get the same sweet deal you had with me Love…’ Kurt went on to say, causing you to laugh.

‘You remember that night in the record studio together?’ he asked sheepishly.

‘Yes, I do. You lasted a total of ten minutes which was quite something Kurt’ you chuckled.

‘And I bet these were the best ten minutes of your life’ Kurt said just as Cillian approached you, listening into the conversation and taking in a deep breath.

‘Would you please give us a minute’ Cillian asked somewhat angrily.

‘I will…because my date is here’ Kurt said sheepishly.

‘What, did you hire an escort?’ Cillian asked, looking over to the woman Kurt pointed at.

‘She’s a model’ Kurt explained, not realising that Cillian was being sarcastic.

‘Of course she is’ Cillian chuckled before saying bye to him and this is when you broke out laughing.

‘He’s got the IQ of an ape’ Cillian huffed as Kurt walked away, shaking his head in disbelieve.

‘You are being so polite sweetheart’ you giggled.

‘I am sorry, but he just makes me fucking angry. You know what he said earlier?’ Cillian said but, before he could tell you, you crashed his lips onto yours.

‘Are you angry?’ you asked as your lips drifted apart.

‘At Kurt? Yes’ Cillian said.

‘Good. Come with me’ you winked as you pulled him away from the function.

Without questions, Cillian followed you upstairs where the offices of the producers were located.

‘I saw you talking to these women earlier…tell me about them’ you said as you led Cillian towards the back of the office area.

‘Sorry Y/N, I don’t know much about them, they just…’ Cillian said but, before he could finish his sentence, you interrupted him with a passionate kiss in front of the door leading to Kurt’s office.

‘Don’t apologise, just tell me. I think there is nothing more sexy than seeing other women want what I have’ you smirked, your hand moving to his crotch.

‘Seriously?’ Cillian asked, causing you to nod and bite your lips suggestively.

‘Well, unlike you, I don’t like seeing other men want what is mine now, especially not this smug bastard’ Cillian said before pressing his lips back onto yours for an urgent kiss.

‘Please tell me this makes you angry’ you giggled as you pulled a white card out of your handbag.

‘Of course it makes me angry and, if I wouldn’t be so fucking complacent, I would punch him’ Cillian chuckled just as he watched you swipe the card through the black machine on Kurt’s office door before putting in the PIN on the security keyboard.

‘I’ve got a better idea’ you smirked as you pulled Cillian into Kurt’s office.

‘What are you doing?’ Cillian asked and all you did in response was looking over to Kurt’s study desk.

Cillian’s eyes lid up and, before you knew it, you felt your lower back pushed against the desk while Cillian lifted up your dress and pushed aside your panties.

‘You are so wet’ Cillian growled with excitement as, without warning, he pushed two of his fingers deep inside you, causing you to moan loudly. He was so aroused and rock hard, ready to take you, but he wanted to play with you first.

‘You do this to me Cillian’ you moaned, throwing your head back and taking in the sensation of his fingers deep inside your tight entrance.

Cillian continued to slide his fingers back and forth within your wet folds, hearing you moan and gasp at the sensation. He then slipped his middle finger inside you. You cried in pleasure. He loved pleasing you like this and started to thrust his fingers inside you faster and faster, watching your body pulsate with his movements.

He hit your g-spot over and over again and you knew what this meant. He was doing this on purpose, making sure to mark what is his and, in the process of it, possibly also mark the carpet in Kurt’s office if he kept going like this.

‘Oh god Cillian’ you cried, your eyes closed as he was manoeuvring his fingers tilted up to get the pleasure spot over and over again until your legs began to shake.

‘You like that?’ Cillian asked softly as he continued thrusting his finger into you and you barely managed to nod.

You fluttered your eyes open and looked at him as he confidently smiled at you. His unabashed confidence was turning you on even more. He knew that no one else ever made you cum like this.

As he continued to finger you, sending waves of pleasure over your body, you could feel yourself getting close to your orgasm and just as you were about to scream in pleasure, Cillian pushed his other hand over your mouth firmly as you came over his fingers, a wet puddle immediately forming on the office floor.

While your head was still spinning and without allowing you to come down from your high, Cillian spun you around and pushed you down against the cold oak table.

He certainly was angry and you loved every moment of it.

With one swift movement, he lifted up your dress again and pushed down your panties.

‘Spread your legs’ he instructed and you obliged, hearing his belt unbuckle and the zipper of his jeans opening.

‘That’s good’ he said as he was positioning his cock directly at your entrance, ready to push in.

Your heart started pounding with excitement and with one hard and powerful thrust and one loud groan Cillian buried himself deep inside you.

You shrieked at the sensation as he immediately and forcefully bottomed out inside of you. It took your breath away and he gave you no chance to adjust as he began to thrust in and out of you.

‘You are all mine’ Cillian moaned as he hit your cervix with the tip of his cock for what felt like the hundred’s time.

‘I am yours Cillian, oh god yes, fuck me hard’ you moaned.

Cillian grunted with each thrust, getting more aroused by the second as he was taking you over Kurt’s desk.

Each thrust was igniting a fire in you. It felt so good and you cried at the inexplicable pleasure consuming you, calling Cillian’s name multiple times.

Cillian was grabbing your thighs, prying them apart, and opening you up to him even more. He thrusted deeper and harder into you in this position.

You cried, your nails digging into the wood of Kurt’s desk while your pussy clapped against Cillian with each thrust.

‘I am coming Cillian, fuck’ you moaned and just, like that, another loud moan escaped you and your orgasm washed over you, your legs quivering and shaking as a result.

Cillian exhaled and groaned loudly, leaning in and filling you with his warm cum at the same time. You felt yourself fill up with his seed, exhaling at the sensation. He stayed inside you for a minute, then slowly pulled out. He watched his cum flow out of your opening ecstatically, running down your thighs.

You then turned around and grabbed one of the tissues from Kurt’s desk, wiping your legs clean before throwing the tissue into the bin.

His desk was covered with some of your sweat and juiced and Cillian looked at your flushed, glistening, beautiful face as you were still panting and kissed you softly on the lips.

‘Should we clean this up?’ Cillian chuckled as he closed up his belt.

‘Oh god no’ you smirked before collecting a good amount of Cillian’s cum that had pooled inside you and then licking your finger suggestively before pulling your panties back up.

‘Let’s get back to the party and say goodbye, shall we?’ you giggled.

Cillian followed you and the first person you chose to say goodbye to was Kurt, which surprised Cillian.

Giving Kurt a big kiss on his cheek, you wished him a pleasant evening and Cillian’s chin dropped immediately.

He couldn’t help it but laugh, shake Kurt’s hand, with the same hand that had pleasured you just minutes earlier, and wish him a pleasant night also.

‘You are so fucking bad, you know that?’ Cillian laughed later in the taxi on your way home.

‘He deserved it’ you giggled.

   Tag List (Cillian):

@lilymurphy03  @deefigs @theflamecrystal   @desperate-and-broken  @weepingstudentfishhorse   @livinginfantaxy  @rosey1981  @atomicsoulcollecto  @peakyboyslover  @nerdy4itall  @elenavampire21  @hanster1998  @mariapaiva13  @fairypitou  @harry-is-my-sunflower  @zozeebo  @lauren-raines-x @kasaikawa  @littlewierdalien  @sad-huffle-nerd  @theflamecrystal   @peakymalfoyscullymulder  @themissthang  @0ghostwriter0  @stylescanbeatmyback  @1-800-peakyblinders @datewithgianni  @momoneymolife  @ntmynouis @lilymurphy03  @mcntsee​@cloudofdisney​ @missymurphy1985​​ @peakymalfoyscullymulder  @otterly-fey janelongxox  @uchihacumdump

Cannot Tag (please check your settings):

@l0tsofpennies @margoo0 @trolleydolly @avonlady1985 @chrisevanshoeee  @daydreamingnymph  @fookingshelby   @chocolatehalo

[cocobeanncteez]

ATEEZ Jongho Imagine: When he's still in contact with his ex-mistress. (Mafia au)

Anonymous said: hii idk if u take reqs but i really enjoy ur storyies n wanted to req smth angsty......mafia jongho who still is in touch w his exmistress n his wife does not like it.... ending can be anyth thx

A/N: Thank you for requesting! My requests are actually closed right now, but I loved this idea so I decided to write it! I hope you like it!

Genre: Angst, mafia au.

Pairing: Mafia!Jongho / Husband!Jongho x reader (fem)

Warnings: profanities, mentions of abuse, alcohol, cheating, and guns.

Tears streamed down your face while your back was pressed against the wall, watching your husband, Jongho, get changed to go who knows where.

The two of you had gotten into the worst argument you've ever had. Jongho's toxic ex-mistress was trying to fuck up your relationship yet again, but your husband just couldn't see that. She was his mistress for five years and older than him by seven years; she was the reason why Jongho got into the mafia world. He did love her a lot, but she used him only for her pleasure and abused him on countless occasions. One day, she decided to leave him and he was completely shattered. You entered his life a few months later, and it took you nearly a year to pick up every piece and put him back together. When she suddenly came back into his life, Jongho didn't tell you about it. They chose to speak once in a while... until she found out about you and decided to cause a lot of drama. You were beyond uncomfortable with that fact that your husband kept in touch with her; even after you expressed how you felt about it, your words went into his ears and left just as fast. You wondered how much longer you could tolerate this, cause honestly, you were so close to your limit.

The sound of a gun cocking brought you out of your thoughts. You glanced at Jongho who was thoroughly checking his handgun before he placed it inside his leather jacket.

"Where are you going?" you asked in concern, hoping it wasn't a mission, although he could handle it if it was one. The worst part about being in the mafia was never knowing whether your loved ones would come back alive once they walk out the door.

"That's none of your business," he replied, making your heart ache.

"I'm your wife, Jongho, it is my business," you said in a soft tone. "Are you going on a mission or—" He left before you could finish talking, slamming the door harshly behind him.

You slid down against the wall, putting your head in your hands while you started crying again. Why couldn't he see how much he was hurting you?

-

"Y/N! Y/N, wake up!" you felt someone shaking your body. You accidentally fell asleep on the floor while crying last night.

"How the fuck is she sleeping in that position? Her neck is gonna hurt badly." 

You slowly opened your eyes, immediately meeting San's dark brown ones. Mingi was next to him, looking at you like as if you were an alien.

"No offense, but you look like shit," Mingi commented, making you snort.

You got up from the floor, groaning in pain due to the pain you felt all over your body, especially in your neck.

"Told you she's gonna be in pain," San murmured to Mingi.

The two of them left you to shower while they made some breakfast. You checked your reflection in the mirror, not surprised to see the puffy bags under your swollen eyes.

You were sure Jongho didn't come back last night, and you really wanted to know where he was.

After taking a shower and having breakfast with San and Mingi, you decided to ask them about Jongho's whereabouts.

"Guys, do you know where Jongho is?"

"Nope," Mingi said. On the other hand, San noticeably tensed up.

"You were with him, weren't you?" you questioned San.

"Not really, but we were at the same club," he said, avoiding eye contact. San has been your bestfriend ever since you were kids, so you could easily tell that there was something else he wasn't telling you about.

"Sannie, I know you're hiding something from me," you crossed your arms over your chest. "You're my bestfriend, not Jongho's, so you better tell me now."

He took a deep breath. "You're not going to be happy about it."

Your eyes widened, immediately realizing what he meant. "He was with that stupid bitch?!"

-

You lit a scented candle and stripped your clothes off before sitting in the whirlpool tub in your bathroom. You felt like shit the entire day and you really just needed to relax.

After a few minutes, you heard your bathroom door open and Jongho walked in, eyes immediately settling on you. You were surprised he came home so fast after being with his ex-mistress.

"I'm sorry," your husband said, sitting at the edge of the tub. You ignored him, closing your eyes, trying to focus on the warm water instead. "So you're just going to ignore me now?" You didn't say anything while you got out of the tub, wrapping your wet body with a towel.

"Y/N, talk to me," Jongho mumbled, following you to the closet. You wore your panties and a white tank top before moisturizing your legs. "Fuck, Y/N. Talk to me!" Jongho's voice raised a little. "Say something for fucks sake!"

You turned to look at him. "Why don't you go talk to your ex-mistress instead?"

"She means nothing to me!"

You took a deep breath. "Did you sleep with her?" you questioned your husband, staring right into his eyes.

Jongho's jaw dropped a little in shock. "I would never ever be unfaithful to you. How could you even think that I—"

"You were drunk and you spent the night at your ex-mistress' place, Jongho!" you yelled, cutting him off. "You spent the night at that fucking bitch's place after all the shit she did to you! What do you expect me to think?!"

"I wouldn't have been there if I wasn't drunk," he stated, taking your hands in his. "But believe me, nothing happened between us last night. I passed out on her couch."

You chucked bitterly. "You expect me to believe that? You really think I'd believe that after what happened a few months ago?" you asked, referring to the time when he kissed her while being extremely drunk.

"I told you I would never look at another woman as long as I wear this," he held his hand up, pointing to his wedding ring.

"Wow, that makes this situation a whole lot better!" you said sarcastically. Jongho's lips pulled into a thin line. He really didn't know what to do; all he knew was he fucked up big time.

Jongho sighed deeply. "Okay, I know I fucked up and I'm sorry," he said after a few seconds of silence.

You scoffed, tears brimming your eyes. "I've been telling you for months now that I-I," you choked out a sob while the tears began to roll down your face. "That I'm uncomfortable with you having any sort of contact with her, but you don't give a fuck. I wouldn't have any issues with you talking to her if she wasn't constantly trying to screw things up between us. Why can't you see that she's messing things up between us? Why do you always fucking defend her when everyone else can see what she's doing?"

Jongho kept quiet, listening to every word you said, thinking about all the fights you two had because of her. "I can't tolerate this anymore. I'm literally done, Jongho," you continued. "I really can't handle it anymore. I tried my best to tolerate everything, but I'm fucking exhausted now. What's the point of being married to someone who clearly prefers the company of his ex-mistress?" Jongho's eyes widened at your words, wondering if what he was thinking was right or wrong.

His thoughts were confirmed once you were about to take your wedding ring off; he immediately put his hand over yours, stopping you from doing so.

"Don't," he whispered, pain and fear clear in his beautiful eyes. "Please don't. I love you, Y/N." He leaned his forehead against yours. "I swear she means nothing to me. I'll stop talking to her. I'm so sorry for hurting you. Please don't leave me." You felt a wet drop fall onto your cheek, making you look up at your husband. This was the first time you saw Jongho crying and the sight of it broke your heart. You cupped his cheeks, wiping his tears away.

"Don't leave," he murmured, more tears rolling down his perfect face.

"I won't," you sighed. You could never leave him; you loved him way too much. "But you have to promise me that you'll cut her out of your life completely, Jongho. It's damaging our relationship."

"I promise I will," he vowed, wrapping his arms tightly around your waist, scared that you might disappear. You slightly smiled, giving him a soft kiss that instantly made him feel relaxed. You could only hope he would listen to you this time.

[mandoinevarro]

NO APPOINTMENT, NO MEETING

Rule Maker, Rule Breaker: Chapter 4

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3

Words: 9.4k

Rating: E

Warnings: so ok descriptions of blood (it’s only one sentence and I don’t think it’s too bad but just in case), remembering trauma/triggering memories, angst. now for the fun part: SMUT, one (1) thigh spank, a sprinkle of dirty talk, a dash of praise kink, spitting, oral (f receiving), vaginal sex, maybe cockwarming but for like two minutes

a/n: happy 2021!!! only one chapter left after this one so enjoy. for the hornies who only want fun and sexy times: scroll to the bottom and work your way up, smut is like 3/4 in.

……………

In the blue morning light, Nevarro is almost beautiful.

The deserted lava fields spread in flat terrain as far as the eye can see, bumps and dips where magma cooled creating waves like a black ocean. Among the tide, obsidian turtle shells shimmer like dark mirrors, where Din Djarin studies his face. It startled him when he crawled from the tent to take the pram inside; when he glanced at the ground and the ground glanced back. His face cloudy and warped by irregular volcanic rock, he barely recognized it. It’s not rare for his features to blur in his memory sometimes, especially when he’s out working for days at a time unable to catch a glimpse of himself. Vanity is not one of his many shortcomings—hiding your face for decades is a mighty vaccine against it.

But today something’s different. The reflection peering up at him belongs to a stranger. Relaxed eyebrows, a hooked nose (has the curved always been so pronounced?), lips that faintly curl up. Content brown eyes. His mirrored counterpart is a sentient being below him, plump with blood and oxygen. Alive.

He looks happy.

However, morning weighs heavily on Din, he can see it in the bags below his eyes. It stings like a hangover, like the only hangover he ever had, back when he was an eighteen-year-old idiot and used the credits of his first bounty to get a flask of spotchka from some seedy bar. He remembers sitting in his crammed quarters at the old Covert, chugging the bottle on his own, methodically forcing himself to swallow against the burn. Waiting. Waiting for the alchemy to kick in, for the magic toxins that flushed drunks’ faces, lubricant that oiled their scowls into easy smiles. Waiting to feel what everyone else felt, just for a moment.

Lifting his head, Din peers ahead. Shadows of the city’s buildings creep above the horizon like a bad omen. The opposite of a promised land. Hunchbacked buildings stain the blue-gray sky, abruptly interrupt the intricate lava patterns, Nevarro the planet versus Nevarro the city. Din’s stomach crumples. One, maybe two hours by foot. One, maybe two hours, and last night will fade into a distant memory, a collection of ghost sensations.

But not yet. Right now, last night is still real. You are still real.

Crawling back into the tent, he licks his lips for the millionth time today. He can still taste you: that thick, salty-bitter taste, so much better than he could’ve imagined. He hopes it stays on his lips for a long time; or, at least, that he can replace it soon.

Inside, you’re curled up with his cape, a blooming bruise above your shoulder peeking out, the baby’s pram hovering next to you. He sits down, careful not to awake either of you, and runs a finger down your shoulder, feels the skin prickle. He buries his nose on the back of your hair and inhales: rain and earth as usual, but his soap too, a part of him that clings to you. Lips on the crook of your neck, Din smells himself on you, wonders if you’ll want to wash his scent away, or if you’ll want it to stay on you. You stir, your soft exhales gain a rasp. Din smiles. You do snore, after all.

He’ll have to wake you soon. He knows. He knows. You need to talk about last night. You need to have the frank conversation that you’ve both been postponing for way too long, back when you floated in dead space, no deadlines, no rush at all to make decisions. But things have changed, and he knows what he wants now, and he knows it can’t wait. Yet every time his fingers brush your shoulder to nudge you awake, he pulls them back. He’s never seen you so peaceful, not moving except for your expanding and contracting chest, the light fluttering of your lashes. All the fight in your body gone, those tall bridges around you down and inviting. So different from when he met you.

If there’s one thing Din’s good at, it’s sniffing out trouble. He had to be, if he wanted to make it in the Fighting Corps. In the Bounty Hunter’s Guild. He can sweep a room with a mental black light, spot the people who flare up white and bright, the ones he needs to stay away from—or approach, depending on the situation. And that day at the cantina, the first time he laid eyes on you? You glowed with it. Talking big game in Karga’s booth, laughing with your pretty smile and shuffling cards, you beamed with trouble, bright as radiation and just as dangerous. What needed to happen was clear as day. The Mandalorian needed to turn on his heels immediately, strut out of that bounty hunter hive without a second look, and never, ever, ask about you.

He’d been there before.

Mandalorians, despite common belief, are not made of beskar. Not on the inside, at least. They’re all warm blooded organics, burdened with flesh and internal organs and skeletons; pain and pleasure receptors. Older Mandalorians cautioned younger ones when they came of age and finished their training, when they were ready to become providers. Tall stern warriors, his superiors, warned that there would be temptation, situations that would make him doubt the Way. “Even the briefest taste,” Din’s former Alor said with that cavernous voice he had, “can be the point of no return.” And he was right.

Outside the Covert, there was so much…stimuli. Voices and colors and movement, a twenty-four-hour beehive, the galaxy buzzed and vibrated to no end. It was equally wonderous and grotesque, like a circus. The strenuous noises that rattled his ribcage, the strong smells, the different food, his senses had never felt more exhausted. The faces…stars, the faces. How muscles stretched in a big smile, the glint of teeth, the deep creases between eyebrows that signaled anger. Always moving, always changing, Din hadn’t seen so many uncovered heads since he was a child. His first few weeks outside he’d stare at people for hours until they scurried away or tried to fight him. Tried.

Then, when the initial shock wore out, he noticed other details. The way children’s eyes filled with admiration when they’d look at their parents, how that dimpled girl in Alderaan would blush and stutter whenever he bought something from her stall. And Din would wonder, despite all warnings, what it’d feel like to be one of them. To share so much of himself with the outside world. With time, curiosity morphed into obsession, obsession into desperation, and soon enough he found himself with Rand and the others, running rampant in an already chaotic galaxy.

One war, two decades, and a thousand regrets later, the curiosity died down. The helmet helped him tune out the outside world, made it easier to retreat into his memories. The galaxy seemed duller by the day, emptier. Lonelier, though he didn’t dwell on it.

That is, until he met you.

Until his resolve circled the drain and he asked Karga who you were and where to find you, walked into your store without an idea of what he’d say. Behind the counter, eyes shining and that silky voice asking what you could do for him, you reset the galaxy for him. Every time he visited you felt like his first day outside all over again.

But last night—that was stronger, set in stone. It felt like commitment. Something was born last night, something burgeoned in his chest and took root. Din can feel the fullness in his body, like he grew an extra limb, similar to the swell that tangled in his insides when he went back for the kid. He doesn’t have a name for it yet, but it reminds him of the day he swore the Creed. The fresh sense of purpose, the carved-out path in front of him, knowing what needs to be done:

When the siege is over, he’ll take you with him.

“Are you watching me sleep?” you mumble, cotton mouthed. “Kinda creepy.”

Din chuckles, then remembers. Stars, his heart stops beating for a second. Dread and natural reflexes throw his palm whip fast over your closed eyes. Maker. What the hell was he thinking, sitting next to you without the helmet. Maker, one second too late and you could’ve opened your eyes and—

“Didn’t see anything. Promise,” you say with a smile and pull his cape over your face. “Cover up.”

He pats around for the helmet (where the hell did he drop it last night?), finds it abandoned by your feet. When he fits it around his head, the familiar padding hugging his skull, he swears it feels heavier than it did yesterday.

“You decent?”

“Yeah.”

You lower the pseudo blanket, sleepy eyes and easy smile. As if you purposefully want to make it harder for him to strike up a conversation. But do I really need to— Yes. Yes, he does. He has to know where you stand and ask the big question: If you’d be willing to leave with him once the siege is lifted. Stars, his hands are sweating. But he can’t imagine you’d say no. Not after last night.

“Listen…”

As if on cue, whimpers and sniffles float from the closed pram. Great timing, kid. The baby’s ears droop like wilting leaves when Din places him on the ground, and the little bundle waddles with his eyes cast down until he reaches your ankle.

“What is it, kiddo?” you ask softly, your voice gentler than Din’s ever heard, sitting up as you hug his cloak tighter around your shoulders.

“I think…” Din begins, watching the baby sniffle and hug your bandaged calf. “I think he’s apologizing.”

A pair of eight-ball eyes blink at you, shiny with unshed tears, and Din feels an ache deep in his chest. This sweet little kid, all he’s been put through…

“Oh, don’t worry,” you coo, as one of your hands wriggles out the cloak and cradles the baby’s cheek. Your thumb brushes away a fat tear. “I’m tougher than your dad.” You wink at Din: Just kidding. But it’s true. Living in this planet for so long, all on your own. “Tough” is a survival skill for you, not a choice.

Also…dad. He should probably correct you. Din is not the kid’s real father, even though he’s caught himself thinking about the baby as his son once or twice, when he’s not too aware of his inner monologue. But he can’t bring himself to tell you the truth. Actually, he belongs to a race of wizards that I’ve been quested to deliver him to. Can’t adopt him if I’ll eventually give him up. Not when the kid’s shedding quiet tears into your leg and you’re doing your best to soothe him. Nevarro’s not child friendly, and Din can’t imagine you’ve got much practice with baby stuff, but he can tell you’re doing your best. And that’s enough to spread warmth through his chest.

What a troop you must make: Mandalorian bounty hunter, black market dealer, magic green baby. You could set up a three-person circus and retire. Yet the image tugs at a memory tucked away in his mind, something familiar but blurred.

His rumination’s cut short when Din notices the kid’s pudgy hands extending strategically on either side of your right leg, his eyelids beginning to flicker. Shit, shit, shit.

“She forgives you,” he tells the kid hastily as he scoops him and lays him on the open pram. He doesn’t need to be the little womprat’s real father to tell he was about to whip out his favorite party trick: healing witch powers. So far it doesn’t look like it permanently harms him, but it does weaken him, and Din can’t take chances. Plus, he skipped the part about the baby having supernatural powers when he told you his story, and there’s not a hell of a lot of ways one can explain fresh wounds disappearing.

“So,” you say after the baby’s settled in his pod. “What are we going to do,” you start, and Din’s throat knots with dread and excitement, “about the jammer.”

Oh. Stars, straight to business

“You said you have one.”

“I said I might have one,” you answer, grabbing for your discarded skirts. You fumble with them under the cloak, one hand clasped tight around it. It’s funny—after everything you’ve shared, you won’t undress in front of him during the day. “I mean, jammers aren’t picky like motors, they’re more one-size-fits-all.”

“But we still have to rewire it,” Din completes, wiping dry drool from the kid’s cheek with his thumb.

“Right.” Holding the cloak with your chin while you clasp your tunic, you seem to slowly draw your way out of a maze. That restless abacus in your head adding and subtracting. Your brows relax, and Din knows you’ve figured it out. “But I’ve got my equipment in my workshop, and we’d save time not having to remove it from a ship. And, no offense, but the Crest’s jammer was an antique. Way more complicated than newer models.” You finish dressing and hand him the cloak. “Only problem is the potential trooper stakeout outside the store.”

“I’ll take care of troopers.” Din takes the cloak and hesitates. It’s day nine, that time bomb still ticks in his head. Could it be that easy? Could you really do all this in one day? “What if we don’t finish on time?”

“Then,” you say, “we’ll figure something out.”

We, Din thinks, and smiles. Somehow, that’s all the reassurance he needs.

≈

Nevarro couldn’t look more deserted if tumbleweed rolled in the streets. The city’s a populated ghost town, no man’s land that’s filled with men. Well, men is a strong word. How did Viszla put it that time? We live hidden like sand rats. Yes, rats seems more fitting. Packs of them, scurrying around the former Covert, stealing Mandalorian armor to be bartered for scraps. Karga didn’t have to spell it out when he told him about people finding the Covert. Mando is familiar with the ways of the Outer Rim: Anything unclaimed is up for the taking, and beskar’s too tempting to resist. Knowing doesn’t make his blood boil any less, though. If Din focuses, he can almost hear their squeaking echoing from the sewers, the scavengers of this gray rock serving themselves to the abandoned armor of his people.

Movement to the left. The Mandalorian draws his blaster and bars you with his forearm, to see…a tunic. A short tunic. Tiny red lights. A Jawa. He exhales and sheathes the blaster. Stars. With the vembrance turned off, he has to rely on bare eyesight to scan for danger.

The Jawa drags a sleigh behind him. On it lies a dead or unconscious trooper (it makes no difference to these creatures), its gloved fingers drawing traffic lines on the mud and ash of unpaved streets. Red stars below the cowl focus on you for half a second, the bounty hunter’s hand approaches his blaster, and…

…and the Jawa waves at you, says “hello” in its squeaky language. You wave back, smiling, and the lump of shadow continues on its way. A neighborly gesture that in this context is plain bizarre.

“Old friend of yours?” Mando asks, walking again.

“Associate,” you correct, running a finger along the kid’s left ear until it twitches and he giggles. “Jawas scavenge parts straight from the wreckage, eliminate the middle man. And they don’t report to the New Republic.”

You mean steal from the wreckage, Din almost says, but bites it back. He supposes he can’t judge you for trading with Jawas. Prospects on the Outer Rim are bleaker than ever, and everyone’s got to eat. Especially during a siege.

Maker, sometimes he can’t believe he convinced himself to leave you here. Marooned in the type of place Core World citizens only talk about with shaking heads and disapproving voices. The type of place that makes people feel better about their lives, because hey, it could be worse, at least I don’t live in Nevarro. Granted, Din didn’t know then there’d be a siege. After the fight, after he bid goodbye to Cara and Karga, he hovered on the atmosphere for longer than was safe, gazing down at your store’s roof from the Razor Crest’s cockpit. His head a seesaw, weighing his options and unable to make a decision. You were still so close. He could fly back down to the surface, knock on your door, and take you away with him like he did with the kid.

Would you say yes? Reject him?

But most importantly: what about his quest? What kind of life would you lead travelling with him, a fugitive of the Empire and the New Republic? Life for Din has been defined by survival. Every day he’s had to get up and fight; fight to an inch of his life, fight with concussions, frostbite, shattered ribs. Knife wounds, blaster wounds. Personal wounds. He didn’t want that for you. You’re young, clever, resourceful. After that day, maybe you’d decide Nevarro was too dangerous. Maybe you’d pay your passage on a cruiser and start over in the Core Worlds, make your luck own there. Find a good man, if that’s what you wanted.

So he started the thrusters—the same ones he bought from you so long ago—and jumped into hyperspace with a semi clear conscience. This was best for everyone. You probably wouldn’t have accepted his offer, anyway. For five months he lived with his decision. And then he learnt about the siege.

In the sky, a string of river pearls forms a pattern like a necklace. Imperial cruisers, tie fighters, every ship that Guideon commands, solemnly presiding over Nevarro, itching to shoot down runaways. They’re too far up in the atmosphere to make out anyone in the surface, but Mando grabs your arm and coaxes you behind him all the same, his grip on the pram tighter. The memory of that imp’s blaster on your forehead is still too fresh. The dried blood on your legs.

Din glances back at you briefly. You catch his eye and smile—not grin, not smirk—but smile, a pretty, kind smile that would put to shame any of the imaginary Naboo girls you were so worked up about two nights ago. He should know, he’s been to Naboo, and none of the women there had your kaleidoscopic face, those hints of life that send his pulse on a sprint. The Mandalorian wonders what else you could be hiding under that sharp tongue, behind those clever eyes.

“Mando,” you call and point at a blackened mass to your right. “Nursery’s this way.”

All buildings in Nevarro emerge from volcanic rock, pushing away from clumps of hardened magma. They’re half-manmade, half-volcano hybrids—it’s a useful layout that gives their structure grip against constant earthquakes. It also, however, makes the buildings look like tumors growing on the navel of an ill planet. Your store’s the only one that’s never looked malignant, more like a sprouting flower than a parasite.

And now, the cantina too. Burned to a crisp, blacker than night, the former Church of Nevarro seems to have been swallowed by its unwilling host: the volcanic rock it was built upon. It’d be near impossible to know there’s a cantina inside, if not for the wide window peering inside. And it’s far from impossible for you or Mando, who know by heart where all the doors stand. He pushes one open for you, and together you walk inside.

“Thumb on the bottom, middle and ring fingers on the top, index to the side,” instructs Cara from behind the cantina’s crisp black counter. “The other side.”

Greef Karga sits on a stool opposite her, fumbling with a deck of cards. “Got it. Then what?”

“Then…” The veteran moves aside a flask of ardees and places a matching deck on the bar. “Pressure with your index, release the thumb.” She acts out her instructions and creates an arched ribbon spread on the surface. The Mandalorian can’t remember the last time he walked into the cantina and didn’t see the hypnotic patterns on cards, didn’t hear the wing-flapping noise of their shuffle. Although if he thinks about it, it makes sense that sabacc is the local sport around here. Dumb luck is the only god in the Outer Rim, where inhabitants gaze perpetually at their uncertain future and never look back. Tomorrow they’ll get a better hand, yesterday’s lost credits are forgotten. Everyone here seems to shed their past like snake skin.

“Nice spread, Dune,” you call. Greef and Cara follow your voice, realize they have visitors. “You should job hunt at Canto Bight.”

“Oh yeah?” replies the ex-shock trooper with an impish grin, both elbows on the counter and a rag over her shoulder, all bartender swagger. “What do you know about Canto Bight, hot stuff? Heard you’ve never been off this rock.” She spies a sly glance at Mando, enough to confirm that she’s annoying him on purpose, openly flirting with you. He squares his stance, rolls the helmet to pin her down with the visor, but (he really should know this by now) it does little to intimidate her.

“No trash talk before nightfall, ladies,” quips Karga, walking towards the pram. “And certainly not in front of babies. Hello, little one!” Said little one coos and lifts his skinny arms to be lifted by the Guild Leader, who sits back down delighted at having the baby’s favor, the little rascal on his lap. “He likes me!” Greef Karga smiles wide, flashing those white glinting teeth that’ve always reminded Din of a wolf’s. He’s not happy to leave the kid here, but he can’t take him if there’s a stakeout in your store. Beggars can’t be choosers and so on. But Cara’s here, and Din knows he can trust her with the baby. Though not with you, evidently.

“Tell you what, Mando,” Cara continues, apparently not done peacocking around you. “We arm wrestle, just like last time. Winner gets a flask of spotchka and the opportunity to take the lady to Canto Bight after you lift the siege.”

“Help us lift the siege and I’ll consider winning that flask.”

Dune lets out an long whistle, giving you a complicit look. “Big words.”

Your eyes rake along the Mandalorian’s armor slowly, boots to helmet, a dark tint in your eyes. Din flushes, the oppressive heat of his clothes suddenly thicker.

You shrug and answer, “Big man.” Your fingertips dance idly around the nape of your neck, which makes Mando think about last night, about his tongue on your neck and the purple bruises he sucked, the salty taste of flesh, the heady one between your legs. The memory steers blood into…into awkward places. Which, knowing you, was your intention. Maker, he needs to talk to you about teasing him in public.

“Help you how?” asks Greef, lifting the baby into the counter, whose six little claws hold on to two of his gloved fingers.

“Look after the kid, we won’t be more than a few hours.”

“Sure thing!” booms Karga, at the same time as Cara says, “Fuck no.”

You fold your arms at the veteran. “You scared of an infant, Dune? It’s only one of him, and…” you squint at the cantina’s black shell, like something’s out of place in its burned remains, “…two of you. Where’s—” you start, before glancing at Mando and swallowing the second half.

“Duma?” supplies Karga, tapping the corners of the deck on the counter. “Don’t know, probably boiling beskar to make broth. Rumor has it she’s running out of supplies, fast. Did you ever take her up on that deal?”

Your eyes shoot vibroblades at him, your mouth a flat line.

“What deal?” Mando asks.

“Nothing,” you reply, still glaring warnings at Karga, who sighs, shakes his head, and tickles the baby’s tummy. The kid giggles and kicks half the deck off the counter. “Nothing important. We should get going.”

Outside, you guide the Mandalorian through a maze of back alleys, the ugly underbelly of a planet that’s already the galaxy’s own underbelly. Mando glues a palm to his blaster’s grip, lifting it only as muscle memory to turn on the vembrance and activate the setting to scan footprints, frustrated when he remembers his own piece of equipment would immediately snitch on him. Yet you glade past dark corners that beg for their own knife-brandishing mugger with the grace of someone frolicking in D’Qar’s moorlands, postcard-calm.

Once in your store’s backdoor, the Mandalorian ventures a glance at the front street. Empty. Like the rest of the city, it’s like curfew was declared, not an imp in sight. Certainly not a stakeout in process. Behind him, you push the door open, the busted security panel no more than a prop to discourage robbers.

“What?” you ask when he doesn’t walk inside.

“There’s nobody here,” he answers, studying the connecting alleys like a web of arteries, waiting for a trooper squadron to materialize and ambush you.

“It’s quiet too quiet?” you tease with a lopsided grin. “Lay off the thrillers, Mando. Come on.”

You step inside, he hesitates. “Could be a trap.”

Hands on the doorframe, leaning forward, your face almost touches the helmet. “Then you’ll shoot them and we’ll be back to square one. Not much of a choice here, Mando.” Those pretty eyes, your shining, wet lips. It’s a siren’s call he knows he shouldn’t answer.

The Mandalorian follows you inside.

It takes him a moment to recognize his surroundings.

Your store hibernates in the dark, stale air floating around its vault. Your store, which used to buzz with drills and neon lights and life around the clock, looms like a beast’s hollow belly, crypt-still. Lights off and furniture wrapped in sheets, it looks abandoned, the way all those family houses in deserted villages were hastily vacated during the war. He wonders how long you’ve been out of business because of the siege. Because of him.

You walk across the reception in tomb silence. In the reception signs hang next to the front desk—store policies that gave Mando more than one headache—dark and colorless, like they turned in their badges and no longer preside over this place. Only “NO IMPS” twitches, one or two agonizing flashes of neon green, before it shuts down like its colleagues. Six rules in total, although in Din’s opinion there’s a seventh that foregoes the need of a sign: “NO QUESTIONS”.

That’s a rule that everyone in Nevarro—bounty hunter or not—subscribes to. It’s the rule you followed when the Mandalorian walked into your store, still crafting some half-assed excuse about thrusters when he came face to face (helmet to face?) with you. You never asked about New Republic guidelines or what he wanted them for. Not even for his name. No questions when he came back two weeks later. No questions as weeks passed and then months, as tension thickened between you until his internal barometer cracked.

No questions when his thinning resolve broke one night. That night. He pushed you onto your workbench, you undid each other’s belts, pawed at each other’s sides. No questions when he slid into your wet heat, when he had to stop for a second to avoid a heart attack. No questions when he finished inside you, blood roaring in his ears, your sighs clouding his visor, your hand gently pushing him back.

And then, his question: “Where are you going?”

“Upstairs,” you answered, pulling your trousers back around your hips.

It dropped on his head like freezing water. Upstairs. Upstairs to your apartment, to rest. Alone. Meaning your encounter was a one-night stand, a shortcut to let off some steam. Stars, you were basically swinging the front door wide open for him, putting away a couple of wrenches and switching off the lights to signal the night was over. The Mandalorian didn’t need questions to know he’d overstayed his visit.

But…what if he’d spent the night anyway? Maybe the next morning he would’ve been upfront with you, confess he’d wanted you for so long and that he wanted it to evolve past one furtive encounter, that he wanted it to be real. No, he probably wouldn’t have. As a bounty hunter—as Mandalorian—there are things he simply can’t have. Things that are better off unspoken, better off—

“Tucked away,” you say behind him, making the Mandalorian jump.

“What?”

“The planner.” You walk behind the front desk. “I was saying I don’t remember leaving it here. I thought it was tucked away in some box.”

Oh.

It is strange. A light sheen of dust covers the counter, yet the planner is glossy clean, a painted depiction of the Manarai Mountains on its cover. A souvenir from Coruscant. He wonders who brought you that. It tugs at something sweet but sad in his chest, the fact that you have to rely on others’ cheap souvenirs to explore the galaxy. That’ll change as soon as this mess with the siege is settled.

You flip through the planner, empty for the most part but for a few scribbles on the first pages. It’s dated 5 ABY, four years ago. The Mandalorian knows from experience that your appointment rule works mostly to turn away unsavory clients. Or to get on his nerves.

“Look at that,” you murmur as if reading his mind, your finger pointing at nothing on a page. “You don’t have an appointment, Mando.”

“We don’t have time for this,” he answers, though he knows he’ll make time for it anyway. It used to drive him up the wall whenever you refused to see him using that stupid excuse. But, as with everything with you, it was more complicated than that. It took longer than he’s willing to admit to understand that it was a game. That you liked him riled up, after the push and pull, the hot and cold, the challenge. You had a taste for difficulty. Although it didn’t take as long to figure out that he liked it too. “Just let me in.”

“I don’t know,” you drawl, glancing at the dull signs on the wall. “Rules are rules.”

The Mandalorian has played this game with you enough to know what you want. He thinks of all those memories in this building. You, pinned between his armor and the doorframe; him, sitting on that battered couch upstairs with your hands on his knees. Even those calm nights, when you’d only sit and talk and make him laugh, and sometimes he’d get a laugh from you too, if he didn’t try too hard. All the sweating and the panting and the talking that these walls have witnessed. Maybe there’s time for one last memory before you both leave this planet for good. Not maybe—there’s definitely time. If this were an ambush, you’d be dodging blaster shots by now.

“So bend the rules,” he says slowly, gripping his edge of the counter and dropping his voice to the low register that gives you goosebumps. “For me.”

Your eyes twinkle like copper at the fact that he’s playing along. “And what do I get in return?”

This time, he doesn’t hesitate. “Whatever you want.” Perhaps he’s known for a while, in the back of his head where he could ignore it, but last night the idea rushed to his front lobe. He’ll give you anything you want.

“I want…” you begin, mischief shining in your eyes, before a shadow clouds them. Slowly, your face goes soft, a special kind of longing in your pupils. You swallow, your voice becomes throaty, and the words sound truer than anything Din’s ever heard: “I want you. I just want you.”

He almost trips on his feet when he rounds the counter, his head already swimming. The hunter crowds you with his body, backs you up against the counter until you’re caged and looking up at him, hooded eyes and parted lips. Hot stuff. Cara’s shallow pet name. When he heard it he thought it was inappropriate. But now. As your mouth nestles on his clothed neck and breathes hot, damp air through the fabric—a mild sensation for most people, he guesses, but almost a mating call for him—he realizes it’s not untrue. The name fits you like a glove, hot stuff. It’s just…incomplete. If he’s learnt anything these nine days is that there’s so much more to you, enough sailor knots of emotion and personality inside you to loop around the galaxy if unraveled.

“Touch me,” you breathe, rubbing up against him, searching friction. “Please, please, touch me. There’s nobody here, we—we have time.”

Gloved palms on your waist, down to your hips, lower to your ass, Din tries to fondle you as best he can. He pins you between the counter and his hips, your leg curls around his back and holds him closer. His erection starts to bulge against your belly, your breaths start quickening, your hearts start pumping faster. The tell-tale signs that indicate you’re both ready to go hit all their usual beats. But something’s missing. There’s a step you’re skipping, something…something he’s not doing right.

Tentatively, you press a small kiss on his covered neck, and he can only feel its frustrating whisper, a promise of more.

A lightbulb flicks on.

Mando holds your hips and spins you around, the desk’s edge on your waist. “Bend over,” he grouses next to your ear, his voice sand-coarse. “Don’t turn around.”

Gloves off first. One palm cradles the back of your neck, feels you shiver. His left hand runs down your back and around to your tummy, savoring all those warm, secret places on you, the way your body opens up to him on instinct. The power trip when he cups your heat through your skirts and you moan into the counter. You nestle your hips on his lap, and he stiffens on command, a tug between his legs that he knows is far too insistent for foreplay. Stars, it’s like he’s conditioned to get hard in this store.

“Don’t—” he chokes out “—not so fast. Or I—I won’t—”

“What?” you pant. Din hears the grin laced in your voice and knows it’s bad news for him. He drops to his knees and both hands walk up your bandaged calves, squeeze the tops of your thighs. “You…you don’t…” He throws your skirts over your back. You inhale sharply at the cold air—or at his hands pulling the soft flesh of your backside. When he removes the helmet, your pitch sounds broken up, more desperate. “You d-don’t want…”

It’s a small victory when he parts his lips against your clothed core and it’s you, for once, who chokes on words. Small victory, but he’ll take it, especially after the way his cock twitches in his pants when he smells you. He kisses you again, just a peck over your clit, and your legs shake. Fucking…stars. If this is how you feel when you tease him…well, he gets it. You mewl and push back on his face, but he hardly thinks you want it that easy.

“Stop moving,” he tells you sternly, with a voice he’d use on quarries.

A shiver runs down your spine. “But—” You break into a whine when his open palm slaps the side of your thigh. It’s probably the surprise rather than the sting that makes you inhale sharply, and a combination of both that dampens the cotton between your legs.

“Stop moving,” he repeats, mouth pressed against your core so you can feel the vibration; that, he learnt from you. “Or you don’t get my mouth.”

Above him, you let out a displeased little grunt, too throaty to mean much. But you open your legs wider and brace yourself on the front desk, grant him full access to you. His index hooks on your underwear, moves it aside, and he buries his lips deep into the softest part of you. Din barely hears you gasp. He circles both arms around your thighs and pulls you closer, until his tongue is buried between your folds and you just have to take it. Fuck, it’s just…decadent. The taste, the smell, how soaked you are already, your little purrs and whimpers when he sucks on your lips. They’re not things he ever thought he’d get to feel. He doesn’t deserve any of it.

“Mmm, stars, Mando,” you sob, sneakily rutting your hips like you just can’t help it. He allows it, but only because he’s so rock fucking hard he’s practically doing the same thing. His cock trapped down one pant leg, he squeezes his thighs to try and soothe the ache. “Move—move up a b-bit.”

“No,” he grunts, and licks a slow line from the spot right below your clit to the back of your slit. It wasn’t so long ago that it was your mouth on him, you teasing him mercilessly inside this very store, him moaning and grunting and losing his mind. That’s how he wants you: sloppy, desperate, begging.

“Maker, don’t t-tease,” you moan, but it only encourages him. His tongue slides deep inside you where you’re hotter than sin, enjoying how your walls swell and tighten around it. You’re so fucking wet, he could push into you right now and relieve the pressure building between his legs. But not yet.

“Beg me,” Din groans, mouthing at the inside of your thighs and sucking tiny bruises there. You moan above him, deep in your throat, and he wonders which one of you is more turned on right now. “Put—fuck—put that smart mouth to use. Beg me.”

For a moment all he can hear is your labored breathing, the wheels turning in your pretty head, laying out a plan to make him give in faster. Then, soft and sweet, you hum, “Mando.”

One word. Probably the word Din hears the most, so generic and impersonal that everyone from friends to strangers to enemies call him that. That word coming from your lips makes his heart sprint, his cock pulse and scream at him to hurry up. Stars, but if it was his name—his real name—on your lips, soft and purring like you pronounced his nickname, he knows he wouldn’t be able to hold back a second longer.

“You always make me feel so good,” you continue, arching your back a little to test the waters. “You’re so—so good with your mouth, stars. Want you to kiss me again—kiss me everywhere. Taste me like yesterday—” Your breath catches when he sucks on your inner lips again, closer to where you want him. Maker, if you keep talking like that… “Used to th-think about it all the time, how—mmm—how your—your tongue would feel. Never, ngh, never thought you’d use it th-there, though.” Din laps at your cunt, drinks from it. Fuck, he can’t remember the last time he got this hard. An airy laugh before you continue. “You can be so d-dirty sometimes. I’d let you do—do anything to me.”

Really, Din doesn’t know what pushes him to do it. He doesn’t know what makes him pull back and spread you open with his fingers, stare at your glistening, deliciously swollen folds, and spit at their very top. You moan raggedly above him, a complete mess of sobs and whimpers, as Din simply stares. He watches the trail of spit run down your slit, the lower it goes the more precum he feels sticking to his trousers. Half-drunk on your words and your slick, Din thinks: What did you do to me? Maker, you have him wrapped around your finger.

Saliva trails down until it teardrops on your clit, clings to it, and he doesn’t need another sign. His lips latch on to your bundle of nerves and suck. You sob and whine and cry, rocking your hips hard against his mouth, and he continues sucking through his teeth. Your knees give out, but he holds them before you can hit the ground, holds you in place as he feels you give him everything, your pussy clenching around nothing. Slick trails down his chin, all the way to his neck, and—shit. He’s going to burst in his pants just from feeling you cum in his mouth.

It takes every last ounce of self-control he has left to detach his lips from your cunt and stumble to his feet. You’re still shaking, still panting, but he can’t hold it back a minute longer. Fuck, not even a second longer, he needs to have you right now.

It’s a struggle to get a hold of his fly, fingers trembling and teeth grinding. When he finally pulls the zipper down, the sound snaps your head up.

“Are you—Mando, are you going to—”

“Yes,” he grunts, digging into his waistband for his cock, lining it up against your cunt. Stars, he’s so pent up, it hurts to touch it. “Is it—is it o-okay, can—can, I—”

“Oh, fuck, yes,” you mewl, pushing your hips so tightly against his groin the head of his cock catches against your entrance. Fuck. “Please, please, please, put it inside, let me feel your big, thick, co—”

One hard shove, deep enough that he feels himself poke your cervix, and he’s cumming—hard. His spine doubles over and he grunts and moans into your hair, giving you short, stunted thrusts as he fills you to the brim. You were already so swollen before, now you feel unbearably tight, squeezing his cock so harshly his eyes roll back on his skull. And his balls keep pulling up and giving you more of his load, his teeth grinding so hard they might crack. One last thrust, nice and deep so his cum stays inside you, and his palm presses down on your eyes. Din uses that hand as leverage to turn you around and tilt your head like you showed him, just enough so he can reach your lips. And he kisses you.

Your bodies spasm and throb against each other, you clench around him involuntarily and he flinches, too sensitive to handle the aftershocks of your orgasm. Still, he could stay like this for days. Gently sucking on your tongue, running his along the roof of your mouth, feeling how your lips curve against his in a smile. Then, an alarming thought. Maybe this is the only way to do it that feels right now—sex, he means. With the helmet off, his lips on yours, his nose on your hair. Bare hands drawing circles on your hips. Every sense devoted to you. Even the briefest taste can be a point of no return.

You peck his lips and flutter sweet, short kisses around his jaw, working your way up to his ear, where you whisper, “We’re running out of time.”

The jammer. Those words are quickly becoming the bane of his existence. “I know,” he whispers back, but presses one last, long kiss to your lips that feels inexplicably sad, like a kiss goodbye. Din shakes the thought off his head. He’s too pessimistic sometimes.

You both hiss when he pulls out, slowly so he won’t hurt you.

“Keep ‘em closed,” he tells you before removing his hand from your eyes. For all he knows you could open them right there, and there’d be nothing he could do about it. Somehow, however, he’s certain you won’t. His trust is rewarded when he pulls the hand back, and your eyes are screwed shut beneath it.

It takes an awkward choreography to straighten yourselves. You try to pull your own underwear back on, but in your position it’s near impossible. So Din kneels behind you once more, fishes his helmet from the floor, tucks himself back into his trousers, and lifts your panties until they hug your hips. You push your own skirts down before Din’s upright, which results in the long fabric covering him like your furniture. You share a quick laugh before standing straight and facing each other.

“You can open them.”

Now, he tells himself, watching your sated smile and blinking eyes. The words are on the tip of his tongue: When this is over, would you like to come with me—

“If there’s a jammer here,” you say, before he can get a word out, “it’s in the workshop.”

You walk around him and open a door behind the reception desk to reveal the staircase that leads to your apartment. Din’s still telling himself that he’ll just ask you later, when you climb one step—and stop. You turn around like you can sense he’s about to ask, for the second time in this store, where you’re going.

“Gotta get some stuff from upstairs, but I’ll be down in a second.” Your voice wobbles, your foot hesitates on the step. You’re nervous. “But if you find the jammer before I come back, don’t…don’t leave.”

“Of course not.” Maker, of course he wouldn’t leave without you. Do you really think he would?

The workshop is darker than the reception. A single window, currently boarded up, so he has to use the helmet’s light. The cone of white light creates a sinister effect, like creatures lurk everywhere it doesn’t touch. Rubber tubes hang from the ceiling like lianas, circuit boards glimmer green like leaves, and yellow sensors blink from several components. Your own little ecosystem watches him dig into boxes of clutter to search for a jammer. Stars, he’s never known how you manage to find anything here. It’s probably best if he waits outside; he wouldn’t be able to find his own ship in here without you.

He’s turning to the door when the helmet’s light catches on a dark glint, like it reflected on a mirror. It stops him on his tracks. Din’s not sure what prompts his feet to carry him toward your worktable, where the mystery item lays center-front. He sees himself reflected on the dark T-visor. It’s a helmet. It’s a blue Mandalorian helmet.

At first he’s confused. Surprised to see a Mandalorian helmet here—and is it even a Madalorian helmet? Yes, yes it is. His brain lags behind his eyes, goes through different scenarios, each less likely than the last.

Is there another Mandalorian here? Did the Alor bring this? Is the Alor a client?

And then, truth.

It falls abruptly on his back like atmospheric pressure, gravity that crushes. A hot rush of blood enveloping his head, poisoning his thoughts, a ringing in his ears so sharp he thinks he might pass out. A million thoughts in less than a second—convoluted, scrambled, furious. Then an image, so clear that the Maker himself might’ve played it for him like a holo: Thieves, scammers, criminals scurrying through the tunnels of the Covert, the empty halls where his people built a refuge, where they could feel safe. The pile of beskar armor unguarded—the high price that brave Mandalorians paid to help Din, help the child—served in a silver platter for these scavengers, these fucking honorless lowlifes.

His gloved fingers grip your worktable so hard his knuckles might crack���or the table. But the Mandalorian can’t feel the pain on his joints, not when his bloodstream’s turned to acid, when it feels like somebody jammed live wires into his head.

This fucking place. This planet with its fucking people, their fucking cynicism, this fucking landfill for hazardous waste, this piece of shit skughole—

Above, the Mandalorian hears footsteps. Your footsteps. You.

He looks down at the helmet, the empty T-visor limp and black, dead. You did this. Thinking of you clears the red cloud from his mind, trades it for a gray one. A headache creeps behind his eyes, his shoulders go slack. He feels hollowed out. Like a spoon reached inside his chest and scooped away everything essential, left him a carcass. Like something died here today.

You did this.

And then the helmet is not a helmet, but a severed head. A head with a pool of blood around it, guts sprayed all over, and there’s the corrupt smell of blaster residue coming from his neighbor’s house, the taste of copper after biting his tongue running, the durasteel giants shooting red death, the deafening explosions, his parents’ screams, his school going up in a cloud of smoke, his father holding him, whispering one last sentence that he can’t hear through the sounds of war and carnage, his mother’s cheeks stained with tears and dirt and blood, their blurring faces, the darkness, the fear.

Holding the helmet, Din feels tears sting in the corners of his eyes, then hot on his cheeks. Nobody understands, why can’t anybody understand? The warrior that owned this helmet is lost forever, condemned to live like a phantom, empty without the Creed, without the Way. It’s worse than death. It’s the curse that most of the Covert was forced to carry, to walk this galaxy like living dead, violently stripped of everything that mattered. And the relic of their sacrifice sits in your workshop next to the rest of your junk, ready to be sold off to the highest bidder, somebody who’ll want to hang it in their wall like game they hunted, and how could you do this to him, how could you, how could you do this—

“Find anything yet?”

When the Mandalorian turns, his helmet’s white light locks you in place like quarry. Like guilty quarry.

You squint and raise a palm to shut out the bright beam. “Stars, Mando,” you laugh. “Are you trying to blind me? Turn that off.”

Your words are muffled by the rushing blood that wraps around his ears, loud as a waterfall, but he can understand them. The Mandalorian grips the helmet tighter between his hands and keeps the light on so you can see what he found, what he knows about you. The ugly, festered truth about you.

Once your eyes adjust to the bright light and they’re able to stay open for more than three seconds, you give him a quizzical look. The visor gives you nothing, so you drop your gaze to the hard evidence between his hands.

And you have the nerve to look even more surprised. Furrowed eyebrows and everything to add to the performance.

“Where did you get that?” you ask.

A thousand responses climb into his head in a savage, foul clutter, like army ants. I should ask you the same, where do you think?, how much are they giving you?, was it worth it?, what’s wrong with you?, what’s wrong with this fucking planet? He opens his mouth, but they swarm in his throat all at once and tie a knot around his windpipe. More tears on his cheeks, another attempt at words—nothing.

Finally, quietly: “How could you do this to me?”

The crease between your brows digs deeper, and there’s genuine worry in your eyes. Of course you’re worried, he just caught you red fucking handed. “Mando, I really don’t understand—”

“Me neither,” he hisses through his teeth, “because this is a Mandalorian helmet, and you’re no Mandalorian.” The first insect out, the rest follow like a waterfall, crawling out his mouth. “How long did you wait after I left to steal this from the Covert? An hour? Five minutes?”

Trapped under the light, where you can no longer hide in shadows, you look stricken. The harsh light shines on circles under your eyes, creases where you frown. Bleak features he never noticed before.

Your voice is low and icy when you say, “I never stole anything from the Covert.”

“Scavenge, loot, I don’t care what you people like to call it.” How could you, after everything, how could you.

“Listen to me,” you say steadily, but your eyes are hot coals and your jaw is set, your own anger rising. Good. Masks off. He wants to see who’s been hiding under his noses these nine days. All those fucking months. “I didn’t take a thing from the Covert. I have no idea where that helmet came from.”

The Mandalorian is barely listening. He’s heard more than enough lies for two lifetimes, he sure as fuck doesn’t need yours. Instead, he focuses on the one thought that manages to float in the red sea of anger and despair. He holds on to it like an anchor, clutches it until his palms bleed, but truth hurts.

“Duma.” He doesn’t ask this time around—he tells you. He knows and there’s nothing you can do about it—nothing he can do about it. Greef Karga’s words shine painful light on fog. Boiling beskar…did you take her up on that deal? “You’re selling it to her.”

“Stars, of course not.” The stoniness of your features melts for an instant, hurt revealed underneath those layers. You look devastated, tired. Maker, you’re good. Those hours of sabacc are sure paying off. “Why won’t you believe me?”

“How can I believe you?” he snarls, his head suffocating in dark quicksand—grief, anger, betrayal all clogging his nostrils, making his head throb. How could you how could you how could you. “When I know what type of people sprout from this planet, I make a living hunting them. I know you—” his voice breaks, but the words keep flowing and he hardly hears them “—I know the kind of company you keep, I know you have no principles, I know you can’t commit to shit—”

“Commit?” you snap, face hardening cold and twisted like the magma outside, but he knows too well what lies beneath the surface. Lava, hot and bubbling, your anger as raw as his. Rawer. “You wanna talk about commitment? I waited for you for five months!” The light from the helmet no longer makes you squint, but it turns your eyes red and watery. “You left. You left me here to starve through a fucking siege that you caused—”

“I came back for you!”

That gives you pause. Then you shake your head. “No, you came back because that piece of shit official asked—”

“He asked to meet me in Belderone.” Belderone, same sector as Nevarro, not even ten minutes away in hyperspace. “Told me Nevarro wasn’t safe because there was a siege, so I insisted we meet here.” The memory drains him. How worried he was about you, the type of worried that stirs bile in the stomach. How guilty he felt. “To see you again. Make sure you were okay.” The Mandalorian looks down at the helmet in his hands, a strange mirror staring up at him. Harsher than the one from this morning. His ears ring, his mouth tastes sour, his rising headache plateaus into an unbearable, incessant throb. A ghost limb aches somewhere in his body, all over it. He wants to leave your store, your planet.

How could you?

Mando doesn’t raise his head to look at you when he walks out the workshop. You don’t stop him when he reaches the main door. You don’t stop him when he walks out to the street.

The sky is jaundice-yellow when he steps outside. Gone are this morning’s blue hues, suffocated by the sickly coughing of a million volcanos, by their fumaroles and their sparks. For all the Mandalorian cares, this planet can burn.

On his way to the cantina to pick up the kid, he stares at the marker that identifies the entrance to the city: that crooked, arthritis-ridden arch. Beyond it, he spots the outline of a ship. A sleek civilian shuttle, probably a rental. The official isn’t stupid enough to fly a Republic starship past siege lines, so if the tiny shuttle fooled Guideon’s platoon in the atmosphere, well, it’ll have to do it again. Tomorrow, they’ll just have to tempt fate and avoid tempting the batallion of Imperial cruisers. Or fly out in the Crest and hope they can jump into hyperspace before imps pulverize them. All he wants is to put as many lightyears between him and this planet.

Din’s head pounds when he walks inside the cantina. The only thought hammering against his skull: How could you.

…………

Edit: Chapter 5…’tis the end

Taglist: @rosetophighlander @hellomothermoon @newyorksins @leo-moon @benedrylcumbersnatch @corrupt-fvcker @seratoninforyouseratoninforme @multifandomlife22 @justanotherblonde23 @abysshaven @equalstrashflavoredtrash @16boyfriends-and-me @ihaveashield @dinispunk @bananaagurl @mstgsmy @absurdthirst @cowboy-kylo @roxypeanut @heyitmelexie @readsalot73 @krazykatkay456 @elusive-danger-noodle @lola-wolf @nikkiparthena @lifeisapitch15 @teaofpeach @auty-ren @anewrule @hyp-oh-critical​ @pascaliprincess​ @geannad​ @coaaster​ @frietiemeloen​ @yourbucky084​ @brynnstudies​ @elfwoodfae​

im pretty sure i forgot someone so please message me if i did!

[americancowgirl19]

Peaceful Mornings

Summary: You reflect on your life leading up to this peaceful and lazy morning in bed with your lovers.

Warnings: Angst, mentions of abuse, mentions of war, fluff

Reader: Gender Neutral Jedi Reader

Pairings: Rex x Gender Neutral Reader x Ahsoka

Word Count: 1,819

A/n: So, I planned on making this multiple detailed parts. This takes place after the clone wars and after everything happened and the ‘series’ I had in mind would happen during the clone wars. If this is popular and if people like it and want the series then I’ll write it. It’ll go over you with your first master and everything leading up to this one shot. Also, I kinda made Ahsoka a little older but it’s not specified really. Let me know if you’d be interested in what I mentioned before!

Masterlist

You were the first of the three to wake up. It’s early in the morning. So early that the Takodanan sun hasn’t even thought about warming the sky just yet. You briefly wonder how many hours you managed to rest but you also know that it’s useless to attempt sleeping any longer.

Despite the sun not being in the sky the room isn’t pitch black. There’s a dim lamp on in the corner of the room. It had been your idea to leave a light on during the night. The dark plays mean tricks to the mind. Especially minds that have been so tainted by war, betrayal, and death like not only yours but your two lovers that lay on to your left.

As if just remembering them your head turns from looking toward the ceiling to the Togruta directly beside you. Without lifting your head you can just manage to see the silhouette of the clone that rests on the other edge of the bed. You sensed they were both deep asleep and you made no more to wake them. Just because you couldn’t sleep didn’t mean they shouldn’t.

This is normal. You didn’t get much sleep these days. Neither did the other two but they managed a few more hours than you did. Perhaps it was because if they awoke too early they put in the effort to return to sleep while you never attempted it.

You didn’t enjoy sleeping. You couldn’t remember the last time you rested peacefully. You always had nightmares, no matter what you tried. Some days you could sleep through them and wake up as normal as one can but there were days that you awoke in a cold sweat or even screaming.

You weren’t the only one who was plagued with nightmares. You’ve all been through shit. Even though neither of you have shot a blaster or turned on a saber in years the war continued to follow you all around. You were used to it. Used to living with it. You just had to keep moving forward.

You didn’t want to think about the war or the nightmares or the fact that you had slept less than normal this night. Instead you focused on the woman beside you.

She’s beautiful. You were smitten with her from the moment you saw her. The more you got to know her the harder you fell. She had a fierce heart and a curious mind. She could fight but also negotiate. 

You had met Ahsoka after you met Rex. Originally you were the padawan of Jedi Pong Krell. He had taken you in while he was still loyal to the Jedi. He was kind, in his own way, back then. When he had his vision of the future he changed.

You shivered at the thought of your first master. Krell had always been rough around the edges but once he started to fall to the dark side he became a monster. He cared little for life and craved destruction. You were so young back then. Young and afraid.

Your body held multiple scars all thanks to Krell’s demented mind. He used physical beatings to get his harsh lessons across. Young, afraid, and naïve.

It wasn’t until the battle of Umbara did you get a sense of hope. You had thought you were destined to live a life with Krell looming over you. You doubted he’d ever allow you to leave for the Jedi trials. You were already older than most padawans.

It was when the council had sent you and Krell to relieve Anakin for a short while that you met Rex. You shared his frustrations regarding Krell but you didn’t dare speak about it. Krell had beaten the phrase ‘speak only when spoken too’ into you early in his fall to the dark side. You were terrified to speak out against Krell.

Even back then Rex could read you like a book. He was patient and gentle as he tried to coax you out of your shell. He assured you that you were safe with him. He assured you that he wasn’t going to hurt you.

You tried to help the clones survive the battle, and your master, as much as you can. Rex could see the fighting spirit you thought had vanished. He could see how strong you were when you thought you were a coward. He gave you the courage to go against Krell. It’s something you’ll forever be grateful for.

When Krell died, by the strike of your saber, the council questioned you. It was a long process but the truth was uncovered. They learned about the abuse and the harsh teachings.

There was talk about sending you away. They feared Krell had taught you the dark side. They feared you would end up like him but Rex knew better.

When Rex heard what was happening he explained his opinion to Anakin. He explained over and over until convinced Anakin to step up. Only Anakin already had a padawan and no one else was willing to risk taking you in. No one other than Obi-Wan Kenobi. 

Obi-Wan retaught you the ways of the jedi. It was a long journey but eventually you didn’t flinch every time someone raised a hand and you weren’t afraid to speak up when you thought your voice needed to be heard.

Being Obi-Wan’s padawan meant that you spent a lot of time with Anakin and his forces. It was through this that you met Ahsoka. She was younger than you but it wasn’t a big gap.

As time passed not only did you and Ahsoka grow close but you and Rex. Whenever you worked with the 501st you were nearly inseparable from Ahsoka and Rex.

Somewhere along the way you realized that Rex and Ahsoka were together... Romantically. You tried to step back but they wouldn’t let you. The war was long and hard but everything was worth it when you had the two of them.

It hurt when you weren’t working with the 501st. There were times you’d go months without seeing them. You would get jealous at times knowing they had each other while you had to wait for your moments with them. They always made up for lost time whenever you managed to return.

Then Order 66 happened. You weren’t with Ahsoka and Rex when it happened. You were with your master facing Grievous. You never expected Cody, someone who had been so crucial in your recovery from the trauma Krell had put you through, to betray and try to kill you and you master. It crushed you. You and Obi-Wan barely survived.

When you made it back to Coruscant you wanted nothing more than to find Rex and Ahsoka but you couldn’t leave Obi-Wan. With a heavy heart you stayed with him during his mission to find Anakin. You went to Mustafar with him. Obi-Wan battled Anakin while you tried to save Padme. 

When the twins were born and Obi-Wan was scent to Tatooine you followed him. You saw him give Luke away and waited until Obi-Wan was settled before you unloaded everything onto him. You feared that he would be so disappointed in you but he only smiled at you softly and encouraged you to search for them.

You knew they were alive. You didn’t know how but you could sense it. You found a ship and let the desert planet. You hated leaving Obi-Wan but he was determined to stay near Luke to keep him safe and you were determined to find the loves of you lives.

It happened by chance. You were on some planet refueling when they found you. They had been traveling searching for you while trying to escape the Empire. It was pure luck.

The three of you traveled a long time before settling on Takodana. The three of you knew of the war happening around you. You helped out where you could but the none of you devoted your lives like you had during the Clone Wars. Instead you devoted your lives to each other.

“Cyar’ika,” Rex mutters softly. His voice is low with a rough edge from just waking up. Your eyes snap from Ahsoka to him. His head it propped up on one hand while the other gently glides over Ahsoka’s hip. She lets out a soft sigh and moves back against him in her sleep. The sight makes you smile. “How long have you been awake?” He asks, keeping his voice quiet not wanting to wake up your shared wife.

“Not long,” You whisper, not knowing if you were speaking truthfully or not. You had been so deep in thought that hours could have passed.

“Come closer,” He says, lifting his hand from her hip toward you. You smile and shuffle toward the two of them. Ahsoka’s shifts again to snuggle into your chest. You kiss the top of her head before looking up at Rex.

“I love you,” You mutter. He smiles and leans over Ahsoka to kiss you. You sigh kissing him back without hesitation. “I’m going to get breakfast started,” You tell him when he pulls back.

“Stay,” He whispers, reaching over Ahsoka to rest his hand on your hip. “Just a little longer,” He pleads. You look into his eyes and know that you’ll never be able to deny him. You relax even more against the bedding and he smiles victoriously.

Stealthily, Rex pulls the covers off his body and climbs over Ahsoka. You grin laying onto your back. He settled between your legs, glancing at your wife to assure himself he didn’t wake her before his eyes return to you.

“You still got it old man,” You tease, winking at him. Rex smirks as if to say ‘did you ever doubt it?’. His head lowers and he snuggles into the crook of your neck. Your arms wrap around him welcoming his dead weight. It was comforting and helped keep you grounded when all your mind wanted to do was fly away.

“We need to go to the market,” He mutters. “We need supplies,” You hum in agreement. “Later,” He decides causing you to smile.

“Later, love,” You agree, kissing his shoulder. In the corner of your eye you notice Ahsoka’s eyes open. She blinks a few times to try and wake up. When her eyes focus they take in Rex snuggling into you. She smiles her beautiful sleeping grin. You extend your arm over her head and shift Rex to the side slightly. She eagerly snuggles up to you and Rex.

You could never thank Rex enough for helping you break free from Krell. That moment had changed your life for the better. If going through that hell meant you got to hold the both of them in your arms you’d gladly go through it over and over for just a moment with the both of them.

[witch-and-a-half]

saving up

i’m back with a fic! it’s longer than i’d originally intended because i got carried away with a new idea at the end but hopefully you still like it.

notes: fred x reader, fluff, 7th year, no specific house, georgie gets a few fluffy friend bits too

words: 2.8k

- - -

[y/n] was flabbergasted, “What? You don’t want to go to Honeydukes tomorrow? They’re having a sale, Freddie.”

Her boyfriend shrugged beside her, “I don’t feel like spending a lot of money right now.”

“Why? You and George have been doing such a good job selling things around school… you don’t want to treat yourself a bit?”

Fred gave a silly grin and wiggled his eyebrows playfully, “I’m saving up.” His chest puffed proudly.

The two of them had reached [y/n]’s classroom, so Fred gave her a quick peck on the forehead. His eyes were bright as she grinned up at him. “Fred Weasley… not interested in a trip to Honeydukes… I might have to take you to see Madam Pomfrey.”

He just laughed before heading down the corridor.

~ ~ ~

[y/n] spent the day in Hogsmeade with a few friends, and Fred stayed behind to work on some products with George. When she got back to the Gryffindor Common Room that evening, the twins were sitting on the couch wrapping sweets in colorful foil.

“How was your day?” Fred asked when [y/n] sat down beside him. He set the foil aside and pulled her legs across his lap.

She pulled a cellophane bag of sweets from her knapsack and held it out for him. “It was good! Honeydukes was packed but I managed to knock a few first years out of the way so I could bring you some sweets.”

This prompted a laugh from both Fred and George, which made [y/n] beam. George shook his head and Fred thanked his girlfriend with a sloppy kiss on the cheek. “Looks like you’ve had a productive day.” And she gestured to the packages of products strewn across the mahogany coffee table.

“Yep, we have,” George said merrily. He was counting out coins, writing down their profit, and splitting it into two piles. Fred hummed in agreement and rubbed his hand on [y/n]’s thigh. “Here’s your bit Freddie…” George passed a handful of knuts to his brother, “... and here is mine. I’ve almost got enough for that new chess set.”

[y/n]’s hand fell atop Fred’s and she gave him an accusatory look, “See! George is going to buy himself something nice. I don’t see why you-”

Fred interrupted with a chuckle, “I told you! I’m saving!”

“You deserve to get something nice for yourself. You’ve both been working so hard.”

George was still writing something down but smiled widely at the comment. Fred just looked at her face intently.

[y/n] laughed at the faraway look in his eyes, “Don’t look at me like that! What are you saving up for anyway?”

Fred shrugged and made a gesture like he was zipping his lips closed. [y/n] was a bit frustrated, but it wasn’t her money and she knew she had no business telling him what to do with it. But she was just so proud of how successful the twins had been and knew this was the most spending money they’d ever had, so she was a bit excited to see them get to buy themselves fun little treats. And she was a bit disappointed that Fred was so reluctant to do so.

~ ~ ~

A couple of months passed and Fred was still hell-bent on frugality. At first, [y/n] had tried to ask George—who’d bought a chess set, a shiny new trunk, and a tailored tweed suit jacket to wear “someday”—why his brother was so opposed to buying something nice for himself, but George just shrugged it off, “That’s just how he is, I guess.” [y/n] made her peace with it by the time their anniversary came along though; in fact, she was the one to suggest that the couple have a nice date instead of exchanging gifts.

The weather was warmer than normal—spring was just around the corner—as [y/n] walked toward the Black Lake with Fred. Their hands were intertwined and swung slightly between them as they walked. Fred laid out a blanket on the far side of the lake, where they were least likely to be disturbed, and started unpacking the basket he’d brought. There were pretty sandwiches and pieces of fruit and a little package of miniature pies. “Oh!” [y/n] exhaled in admiration, “This is so lovely.”

Fred nudged her slightly, “The kitchen elves were very generous,”

She laughed and wondered which parts of the lunch Fred had asked the house elves for and which parts he’d snuck out of the kitchen himself. The two snacked and talked for what must’ve been hours. They talked about everything and nothing all at once. The sun was beginning to set when Fred unwrapped his arms from around [y/n], who sighed sadly at the loss of contact. She turned to see Fred pull a small box from the picnic basket.

“Oh, Freddie…” Her voice was marbled with excitement and disappointment, “We promised no gifts…”

“Don’t think of it as a gift. It’s just a…” His smile was softer than it had been earlier in the day, “... a token of my affection.”

He passed the box into her hands and [y/n] unwrapped it slowly. She shook her head as she did so, overwhelmed by the surprise. Inside the box was a beautiful silver locket with an intricate floral design. When [y/n] realized where it was from, her heart sank.

~ ~ ~

Over the past summer, Fred had come to visit [y/n] in her hometown for a few days. She took him to all of her favorite places around town. One day, they were downtown and stopped in a small vintage store. Fred wandered to the back of the store, where they kept all the old Muggle comics and other old trinkets, while [y/n] looked through the vintage dresses and skirts.

When Fred found [y/n] again, she was looking into a glass case by the register and chatting with the woman behind the counter. He stood beside her, wrapping his arm around her waist.

“It’s absolutely beautiful…” [y/n] said breathily to the older woman, who wore glasses with red frames and had her hair in a playful half-up bun.

The woman smiled at her, “It’s one of our finest pieces. I can pull it out for you to have a better look?” [y/n] nodded eagerly and the woman set the display on top of the glass casing.

Fred looked down at the necklace [y/n] was studying through the glass: a silver locket. At that moment, he wanted nothing more than to be able to clasp the necklace around her neck and see her joyful reaction to wearing such a pretty little thing.

[y/n], however, was barely aware of Fred’s presence as she spoke, “It’s so lovely, but I could never justify spending that much on a necklace right now. Maybe someday though…”

The woman nodded gently as she put the necklace away, “I understand completely. Maybe someday you can come back for it.” The couple thanked the woman before heading toward the door.

[y/n] turned her attention back to Fred, who was holding the door open for her, as he spoke, “You really liked that necklace?”

She shrugged, feigning benevolence, “Oh it was pretty but I don’t think I’d ever wear something that pricey.” But she was simultaneously imagining coming back to the store in a few years—once she’d graduated and was working—to buy that necklace as a gift to her younger self.

~ ~ ~

And now, only a few months later, she was holding the necklace in her hands. Fred’s thumb was nervously rubbing circles on her thigh and he watched her examine the dainty piece of jewelry. Tears were beginning to well up in her eyes and she suddenly felt so undeserving of everything she had in that moment.

“Oh, Freddie… you shouldn’t… I can’t take this.” She blinked and the first tear fell slowly down her cheek. Fred’s eyes narrowed with worry and endearment, “Of course you can. Do you not like it?”

[y/n] shook her head furiously, “Oh no, I love it. It’s perfect… but you shouldn’t have spent so much on me especially since you’ve been saving-”

Fred cut her off with a gentle chuckle, “Love, what do you think I’ve been saving up for?”

As all the pieces fell together, [y/n] squeezed her eyes shut. She needed a moment to sort out her overwhelming emotions. Her thoughts only became cloudier when she felt Fred press a kiss to her temple and take the necklace from her hand. Fred moved so he was slightly behind [y/n] and gathered her hair over her shoulder, which caused her eyes to flutter open again. His warm hands brushed her neck as he clasped the necklace. She looked back at him to see the brightest grin she’d ever seen him wear.

Fred tenderly took her hand and used his other arm to hold her to his chest. Stars were beginning to appear in the sky, their reflections shimmering on the glassy lake. Fred’s fingers were brushing mindlessly through [y/n]’s hair as they sat tangled in each other. They sat in silence for a few minutes before Fred cleared his throat.

“You know how George and I talk about starting a shop in Diagon Alley?”

[y/n] shifted so she could see Fred better, “Mhm,”

His words came spilling out, tinged with worry, “We’ve been talking about… leaving school early and getting a headstart on it. Between Umbridge and exams and-”

[y/n] pressed her lips to his for a moment, overjoyed by the idea. She knew how talented the twins were when it came to these kinds of things. They loved a little spontaneity and a risk, and they always managed to pull it all off. There was absolutely no reason why this newest scheme wouldn’t be the same.

“If that’s what you want to do, I think it’s a wonderful idea.”

Fred looked shocked, he’d expected her to worry or even try to convince him to stay. “Are you sure? I wouldn’t go if you didn’t want me to.”

She smiled up at him. The loving look in her eyes melted his worries and filled him with relief. “I’ll miss you, obviously. But we can send letters and then once I’m done with school I can come help out if you and George’ll have me. I think you’ll do an excellent job and I’m excited for you.”

“What is a girl as wonderful as you doing with a bloke like me? Merlin, I love you so much.”

Fred’s lips were back on hers before she could return the sentiment.

~ ~ ~

They walked back up towards the castle, their path illuminated by the moon. Their hands were intertwined again, but their bodies were too close together for their hands to swing like they had when the sun was still out. [y/n]’s free hand wandered to the locket on her chest again, still in disbelief that it was truly hers now.

“I still can’t believe you spent all your savings on me…” She said quietly, half hoping that Fred wouldn’t hear her.

His hand tightened around hers, “I wanted to give you something beautiful.” Then he shrugged playfully and added, “Plus, it wasn’t all my savings.”

[y/n] was relieved, “Oh? So what are you going to do with the rest?”

Fred hummed, taking a moment to choose his next words carefully. [y/n] looked up at him to see a grin wash over his face as he spoke, “I’m saving that… for the future.”

She rolled her eyes, disappointed but not surprised by his answer. They took another few steps and [y/n]’s gaze was back on the path before Fred spoke again, his voice low, “... for our future.”

[y/n] felt a blush warm her cheeks under the cool night air. Fred looked down at her to watch a range of emotions flood her face. She looked like she was about to laugh and cry all at once.

~ ~ ~

Less than a month later, [y/n] watched Fred and George Weasley soar across the sky above Hogwarts. They were surrounded by fireworks and the sound of cheering students. When George spotted her in the crowd, he gave her a cheerful wave and called out to Fred. His eyes locked on hers, even from so far away, and he blew her an exaggerated kiss before the brothers turned to head off on their new adventure.

They hadn’t explicitly told [y/n] that they were planning to leave that day, but she’d known. She’d known because George had spent the day before studying with her in the library—even though he was subtly studying from a finance textbook that definitely wouldn’t help him on his Transfiguration exam. She’d known because both boys had given her some of their old clothes they’d found as they went through their trunks the night before, so now she had a cool pair of corduroy slacks and some soft-from-wear t-shirts to remember them by. And she’d known from the way Fred had kissed her that morning before her exam. The kiss was warm and needy and especially fiery. And, when Fred pulled away, [y/n] could see the sadness in his eyes.

[y/n] quietly watched the Weasley “W” fade from the air as the other students began to head back inside. Once there was no longer any evidence that there were ever any fireworks in the sky, [y/n]’s hand found the locket again. She was shaken from her trance when she realized she’d never opened it. Guilt washed over her as she wondered if Fred would have wanted to see her reaction to whatever was inside, and then she felt worried that maybe nothing was inside. Shakily, she pulled the necklace so she could see the dangling piece of silver and opened the locket.

Inside was a picture she’d forgotten even existed. [y/n] was standing beside Fred on the castle steps outside the Yule Ball. He had on a smart suit and her hair fell delicately on her shoulders. Fred’s arm was draped around her in the loose way it did before they started dating. She remembered that George was behind the camera, and she and Fred were laughing at something he’d said. As they laughed in the photo, Fred’s arm tightened and pulled [y/n] closer to him. She could still remember the butterflies in her stomach as he did so too. [y/n] felt tears prick her eyes as she watched the two of them in the locket. Out of all the photos and memories she and Fred had, he had chosen this one for her to wear around her neck. He’d picked a photo that was taken only a couple hours before he’d nervously admitted that he fancied her and she'd first felt his soft lips on hers.

She closed the locket gently and refused to let the tears fall from her eyes as she walked back into the castle. [y/n] traipsed through the mess in the Great Hall corridor and her eyes fell on one of the only Educational Decrees still mostly intact on the floor. Her eyes lit up as she read it, and immediately she picked it up, knowing exactly where it belonged.

~ ~ ~

[y/n] knocked on the door of the Weasley twins’ shop, a brown paper package clutched nervously in her hand and the silver locket hung dutifully around her neck. Fred opened the door and pulled her into a tight embrace.

“What’s this?” Fred gestured to the package as he led her inside. George was painting one of the shelves on the wall on the floor above them and gave [y/n] a wide grin before rushing down for his own hug.

[y/n] told Fred and George about the day they'd left. She told Fred about how she’d opened the locket just after he’d left and how touched she’d been. Then she told them about how she’d found an Educational Decree only slightly frayed by the chaos, and how she’d framed it as a good-luck gift for their shop.

The look in Fred’s eyes as she spoke was distant, he was so overjoyed to be reunited with the love of his life that he barely even registered the fact that she’d omitted which Decree she’d found.

“What’s it say?” George asked, and [y/n] handed the package to him. She looked at Fred, expecting him to watch his brother open their gift, but instead saw the soft look in his eyes, which were fixed on her. [y/n] beamed and came to stand closer to him as he turned to see George pull out the orange frame.

George’s face lit up as he read the words on the paper, “Oi, this is perfect!” Then he turned it for Fred to see. [y/n] looked up at her boyfriend and watched a cheeky smile spread across his face. He looked down at her in disbelief as George propped up the frame on the check-out counter.

Fred shook his head and kissed his girlfriend’s forehead excitedly, “What would I do without you…”

[y/n]’s hand pressed to her chest, atop her locket, as Fred leaned across her to re-examine the rule Umbridge had put into place back at Hogwarts.

“Educational Decree Number 30 - ALL WEASLEY PRODUCTS WILL BE BANNED IMMEDIATELY.”

[wonwooslibrary]

Stay Forever

pairing: lee seokmin x fem!reader (told in third person)

genre: royalty!au, arranged marriage!au

word count: 2587

warnings: there are no warnings, but there is a small sword fighting scene - nothing graphic though!

author’s note: i have been planning this and stressing over this for so long, it feels great to finally post it! this is written for @ficscafe ’s royalty au drabble event! thank you @cha-lan for beta reading & editing (and writing the chan part towards the end) for me (ily lannie & this is for you!! <3), along with @minghaofilm for editing and @sanshiine​ for beta reading!! (thank you all so much!!) 

this is based heavily off of “17″ by Pink Sweat$ ft. Joshua & DK of SEVENTEEN. The title is also from that song. You can find the whole playlist for this drabble HERE. 

The throne room was large. The golden trim seemingly glowed around the ceilings, and the red velvet curtains blocked out the blinding sun from being too overbearing on one’s eyes. In the back of the room on a higher platform were two thrones: the one on the left was larger than the one on the right, and was adorned with more embellishments carved into its golden-stained wood. 

Sitting in the larger throne was an older man in his early nineties; a shiny crown sat lightly on his white hair, gleaming in the sun. Next to him on the smaller throne was a woman about the same age—her hair pulled back and out of her face, the crown on her head sparkling. Sitting in the woman’s lap were two small children, both slightly above the age of ten. 

The man beamed at the children, his smile bright and full of love. “Do you want to hear a story?”

The children giggled, their loud, high-pitched voices echoing off of the walls and throughout the room. “Yes, please, Grandpa! Tell us a story!” 

"Well, it all started when your Grandmother and I were very young," the man began. "Before your grandmother and I met, she was living in a faraway place with your Uncle Junnie." 

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The first thing Seokmin noticed about sitting at the round table in the conference room was the uncomfortable surface he was forced to perch on. You'd think as a prince living in a palace that he'd get to sit on something softer or more comfortable, but no, the King had to make him sit on the same uncomfortable wooden chairs for hours, pretending to listen to any of the information that was being said to him. 

"Seokmin? Are you even paying attention to what we are talking about?" 

Seokmin snapped out of his daydream and lifted his head off of his palm to look up at his father. 

“Oh! Um, yeah—yes. Of course, I’m paying attention.” 

The King rolled his eyes but continued to catch Seokmin up to speed with the conversation. 

“So, as you know, the Queen of Shenzhen—along with her son and daughter—are going to be visiting soon,” the King explained. “We are going to hold a ball when they get here. It will be used to announce a wedding.”

The Prince looked over at his father, tilted his head slightly to the left and raised his brow. “A wedding? For who?”

His father coughed slightly and glared at the younger boy, "You and the princess, of course." 

With that, the King stood up and walked out, leaving his middle son to sit in the still uncomfortable chair of the conference room, staring off into space.

Hours later, Seokmin was found in his older brother's bedroom. Most of Jihoon's belongings were not in the palace anymore but in the neighboring Kingdom's, leaving the room to look as if Jihoon didn’t live there for almost twenty years. 

As Jihoon was unpacking some of the clothes he brought for his stay, Seokmin and their youngest brother, Chan, sat on his bed. 

The youngest patted his hand on Seokmin’s knee, “When did father say you were getting married?”

“In, like, four days! I haven’t even met the princess yet!” 

Jihoon sighed, “I can’t believe he’s doing this again.” 

Seokmin rolled his eyes, “Tell me about it. It made sense for the eldest sibling to go through an arranged marriage, not that any of us liked putting you through that, but why me too?”

“It’s probably because Father wants someone to be in charge here after he’s gone, and it obviously can’t be hyung if he’s living in another kingdom,” Chan looked over at Seokmin. “And I am way too young to get married–”

“When do the prince and princess arrive?” Jihoon interrupted his youngest brother. 

“Tomorrow. The Queen is arriving the day before the wedding. Father says that gives us time to get acquainted with them.”

Jihoon turned around and moved his gaze from the closet he was putting clothes into and to his brothers’ faces. “It can’t be that bad to at least meet them, Seok.”  

“I just don’t want to get married, hyung. I don’t know this person, and I’m only nineteen!”

“It’ll get better, hyung,” Chan started. “I mean, they can’t force you to get married.”

Seokmin opened his mouth to protest but was interrupted by a knock on the large, wooden doors of the bedroom. 

“It must be time for dinner, let’s go,” Jihoon told his brothers, setting the clothes hanger that was in his hand down onto the bed, and walked towards the door.

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“So?” the youngest of the two kids questioned the older man. “Did the prince ever meet the princess?”

“Of course he did!” The man exaggerated his words for the children’s entertainment.

“Tell us that story, Grandma!”

“Okay, Okay. When the princess met the prince, she was very—how do I say this?—surprised.”

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On the day the Queen’s children arrived, Seokmin was pleased to have met the prince, Junhui, before he met the princess. The two bonded fairly quickly over their enjoyment of sports: Seokmin with sword fighting and Junhui with martial arts. 

Seokmin had offered to show Junhui around the palace, their last stop being the training grounds where Junhui suggested that Seokmin teach him some sword fighting. 

Seokmin quickly agreed, taking Junhui to the armory to get proper protective equipment and swords. They spent most of their time outside on the battleground, swords in hand and padded gear covering their bodies. The blazing sun made Seokmin start to sweat the more he moved to practice attacking his dueling partner. 

He had easily disarmed Junhui, the elder’s inexperience in the sport evident; Seokmin took his sword and used it against his opponent. One sword in the prince's left hand, the blade behind Junhui’s neck, and the one in his right hand pointed towards his rival's chest; the edge only centimeters away from his protective gear. Seokmin smirked at Junhui's scared expression and lowered the weapons, holding his left hand out for his opponent to take his sword back. 

Suddenly, the sound of clapping echoed around him, forcing Seokmin to look around his surroundings. His eyes focussed on a woman, no older than nineteen, who was applauding almost sarcastically at the display of Seokmin’s skill.  

He slid his sword back into the sheath that was slung over his shoulder, the blade resting on his back. With long strides, he walked away from the battleground and towards the woman, only stopping when he was a few feet away from her, a dazzling smile on his face. 

Seokmin bowed, “What can I do for you, miss?” 

“Oh, today is my first day here. I was just exploring. The other people seem to gravitate towards you, you know.”

Seokmin chuckled. “Being a prince—specifically one who knows their way with a weapon—does that to you.”

The woman’s eyes widened a bit. “You wouldn’t happen to be Seokmin, would you, Your Highness?” 

“I am. Were you expecting one of my brothers instead?”

“Um, not exactly,” she began. “I’m Y/N. Princess Y/N, from Shenzhen.”

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The night following Y/N and Junhui’s arrival at the palace was a ball. His father had encouraged him to host some type of gathering to announce the wedding, and at this point, there was nothing Seokmin could really do besides agree. 

He had only spoken with the princess a few times; her calm and collected voice intimidated Seokmin a bit, not that he would admit to that. When introducing themselves at dinner later the night they met, she had expressed her love of sword fighting: it one of the main reasons that the battleground was the first place she explored when she arrived. Seokmin had wondered why he had never met the princess earlier in his life, especially since they both shared this hobby. 

Seokmin's mother made it clear—he was supposed to dance with Y/N for most of the night. The strict woman also made sure to make it very clear: 

"Do not, and I mean do not try to sneak out as your brother did. You know exactly how your father reacted to that, and we do not want to see that again." 

Of course, Seokmin rolled his eyes at that. He was not making any promises. 

Though, when it was time to get ready for the ball, Seokmin started to become impatient. He, surprisingly, was excited to see the princess again. He had never had someone that truly had the same love for sword fighting as he did, besides the generals and other soldiers—such as his close friend, Joshua. He couldn’t wait to talk to the princess about their mutual love of the sport. 

While Seokmin was getting ready for the ball in his bedroom—with the help of his best friends, Soonyoung and Seungkwan, of course—Y/N was on the other side of the castle, Seokmin’s mother helping her with her ball gown.

The dress was beautiful; the light reflected off the golden fabric and made the small sequins on the lace sleeves sparkle. The bodice of the gown was fairly plain, the off-the-shoulder neckline showing off the golden necklace that Y/N wore. The skirt of the dress, however, was the most beautiful part of the outfit. With a slim silhouette only going out a few inches around Y/N’s feet, the skirt's fabric floated slightly above the floor. 

When looking at herself in the mirror, Y/N had not failed to tell the Queen about how much she loved the dress her future mother-in-law had picked out for her. 

“Even the fabric shines in the sun,” Y/N had told the Queen. “It’s beautiful!”

The Queen was not going to argue with the princess.

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The ballroom of the castle was similar to many of its other rooms. The golden trim near the ceilings glowed, and the red velvet curtains blocked the sun from reaching the room. The colorful mural on the ceiling encouraged guests to look up and admire all the small details. 

Along the middle of the ceiling were three large crystal chandeliers, illuminating the room with a glow. Towards the left side of the room was a grand staircase, comparable to something out of a fairytale. The marble flooring matched the marble stairs; the steps led to a balcony that circled above the main level of the room. On the right side of the room on the platform were three thrones. They were smaller compared to the ones found in the throne room but just as elegant. Connected to the stairs was a hallway leading deeper into the castle on the next floor. 

The room was crowding up fast; different people from all over the kingdom arrived at the ball to hear the surprise that the prince had planned to announce. Everywhere Seokmin looked, he saw fancy gowns and hands holding champagne flutes. 

For the next while, Seokmin continued to stand at the side of the room close to the exit, greeting people as they walked in. He recognized some of the people as council members with which he and the King would have meetings. Others he recognized as villagers from the many outings he had taken to the outdoor markets deeper in the kingdom. 

As he was greeting people, he began to wonder, “Where is the princess?” 

Though, all of a sudden—

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“Did the prince see the princess wearing her big ball gown and—oh! Was the princess wearing glass slippers? Was she, Grandpa? Was she? Was she?!” the older of the two children began to tug on the man’s sleeve, demanding an answer that was enough to satisfy the child’s ever-growing imagination. 

“Yes, sweetheart. The prince did, in fact, see the princess standing at the top of those marble stairs. I don’t know about the glass slippers, though.”

“I can promise you I would never wear glass slippers to a ball. It may have worked in fairytales, but I would have tripped over that dress so quickly,” the woman sat next to the white-haired Seokmin spoke up, patting his arm to interrupt him from continuing the story. 

“What about the rest of the ball?” the other child asked. “Did the prince dance with the princess?”

“Oh, of course, he did. The prince couldn’t leave someone as beautiful as the princess waiting.”

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As Y/N walked closer to Seokmin, he couldn’t take his eyes off of her. When she was only a few feet away from him, she smiled. Seokmin held his hand out to her, and she took it, coming closer to him. He moved his hands to Y/N’s waist, and she wrapped her arms around his neck, careful to not accidentally hit his crown. 

“Good evening, Princess,” Seokmin’s eyes morphed into crescents as the sides of his mouth lifted. “You look beautiful tonight.”

Y/N laughed, “Thank you, Your Highness. Her Majesty helped me with it.” 

“Mother. What can’t that woman do?”

As the music started to get heavier, Prince Chan yelped out from across the room. Seokmin and Y/N glanced in his direction, only to see the youngest brother hopping with his foot in his hand, face morphed with pain.

“I’m sorry!” another young guest exclaimed, her hands held out to try to stabilize the boy.

“Have I ever mentioned how glad I am that you don’t step on my feet while we dance?”

“Don’t push your luck, Your Highness," Y/N giggled, a sudden sly smirk upon her lips. "You never know what could happen.” 

Seokmin and Y/N proceeded to glide  across the marble floors; their conversation continued all while the prince's heart raced. 

"So, how do you feel about your first dance here in the palace?" Seokmin questioned. 

"Hm," Y/N began. "I think it's going pretty great. I didn't know you could dance.”

"It's mandatory for royals to learn here," he hummed. "I've known how to dance since I was seven."

Y/N's eyes widened, and silence ensued. Suddenly, Y/N leaned forward and rested her head on Seokmin's chest, his heart beating loudly into her ear. The two stayed like this for a while until the next song played, and Seokmin spoke up once again. 

"My father wants me to use this to announce the wedding," Seokmin looked down at Y/N. "Do you want that?" 

Y/N hummed. "I don't see why I can't learn to love someone like you, Your Highness."

Seokmin's heartbeat sped up as he moved his hand from Y/N's waist to her chin, making her face him. He bent down, his lips centimeters from hers and—

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"Ew! Cooties!" 

The two elders laughed at their grandchildren's exclamation. 

"Yes, kids. Cooties. Now, don't you think about doing that until you are much, much, much older, you hear?"

"Yes, Grandpa!" the eldest giggled. 

"But did the prince and the princess ever get their happily ever after?" the younger questioned, pouting at her Grandparents. 

"Of course they did!" Y/N told the child, running her hand through their hair. 

“The end?” 

“The end.”

“Oh! I guess I showed up at a wonderful time! C’mon kiddos, time for bed!”

The kids turned their heads to face the doorway. 

“Uncle Jun!” They bolted towards the door to greet their Uncle, throwing quick goodnights and goodbyes before exiting the room. Junhui waved to the married couple and followed after the children.

Seokmin glanced over at his wife, shot her a wink and said, "Please, princess, forever stay with me like this."

[p4nkow]

White Lie

Hello hello! As usual, I have no idea of what this is about 💀 I saw a post it said that they were currently filming in a school and my dumb ass was like Oh right, they’re in high school

Part two

I loved writing for Rafe, pretending that he isn’t a lil piece of shit, so I hope you enjoy it as much as I did while writing it!

Summary: Being a secret girlfriend wasn’t exactly how you’d planned to spend your high school years. As a question keeps haunting you, you face Rafe about the nature of your relationship

Warnings: swearing?? A making out session? Oh and also some angst

gif not mine so credit to the owner! and don’t mind what’s written in it 💀

Being a secret girlfriend wasn’t exactly how you’d planned to spend your high school years. Everyone kept saying that those were supposed to be the best years of your life — the years during which you make memories you’ll cherish forever, the ones you’ll tell you grandchildren someday.

A lot of good things had happened to you so far — you’d made some good friends, the kind of friendships that last a lifetime. You’d been accepted as a cheerleader, which wasn’t as exciting as you thought it would be. However, it was a good distraction from your shitty Pogue life back in the island. You even got a job — Kie had asked you to work as a waitress at her family’s restaurant, The Wreck. When she said ‘Just think about it’, you said Yes in a heartbeat. No need to think about it. That job would help you provide for yourself and pay your food, after all.

Oh, and yeah. You also got a boyfriend.

A guy who you came so abruptly and suddenly in your life that he turned it upside down without you even noticing. Because never, not even in a million years, you would have imagined that you’d be dating Rafe Cameron. The Rafe Cameron. The Kook king.

It wasn’t planned — like at all — for you to fall for him.

Everything started out as a flirt — some staring at the keggers down at the Boneyard, some casual touches in the hallways, and then you ended up making out in The Wreck’s men’s room. Neither of you had planned it, and you didn’t even dare to imagine what your friends — or even his — would say about it. Everyone in the Outer Banks knew that between the two groups there was some bad blood.

But thankfully they didn’t know anything. They didn’t because you were with a guy who wouldn’t openly say that was dating you. The thought hurt you every time — was it your fault? Was he ashamed of you?

The only time you’d brought it up, hiding how it truly hurt you, he gave you a frown and simply said “You know — it’s... it’s because of my father.”

Of course you knew that his relationship with his father was at loggerheads. Hell, it was so bad that you weren’t even sure that there was a relationship between them. Still, Rafe wanted to please him so badly that he wouldn’t even tell him that he was dating a Pogue.

But you’d be lying if you didn’t say that it had been fine by you too, at first.

After all, what the two of you shared was something special and as such, you didn’t want to yell it through the halls. And, to be quite honest, you feared your friends’ reactions. You didn’t even dare imagine what JJ would say if he knew you were sneaking around with Rafe Cameron.

But you had to admit that playing secret boyfriends with him was fun. The risk of getting caught made everything even more exciting. It made every look, every touch even more significant.

Two months ago, if someone told you that Rafe Cameron loved to cuddle at night, you would’ve laughed right in his face. And now you were the one he held close to his body every night as he slept peacefully. Funny how fast the night changes, huh?

There were times when you thought that you were going to get caught with your hands in the cookie jar — Sarah once walked in on you as you were making out on his desk, but you quickly hid your face in his chest as he surrounded you with his arms. She didn’t even have the chance to give a proper look at you, considering that she flew off the room. Now she made sure to knock every time she had to speak to him.

But now that the summer had ended, you were worried about how your relationship with Rafe would develop. Would you still have the chance to sneak around, trying to avoid the prying eyes of the islanders?

But since the moment you set foot at the Kildare County High School, things went down quicker than you could ever imagine.

Rafe was a class ahead of you, considering that he was a year older, so you didn’t really have many chances to see him in the morning. And when you crossed him in the hallways, he would look at you but openly ignore your presence.

And every single time he walked past you without saying a word, you felt your heart break a little.

The few moments you were given with Rafe during the day, the way he made you feel, the way your skin burned whenever he touched you or how he’d always play with your hair — was all of it worth the way you felt everyday because of his behavior?

And that question kept haunting you, remaining unanswered.

It was a Thursday morning and it wasn’t a particularly exciting day at the Kildare County High School. Well, actually, days seemed all the same there.

Between third and fourth period, you had to stop by your locker to grab your history book, and John B offered to walk you.

“Can’t believe I’m already failing history”, he groaned, a frown forming in his face. History book in one hand and the other hand hidden in his jeans pocket, John B got a lot of stares from the girls chatting in the hallway. Could you blame them?

As you swung open the door of your locker, you gave him a quick look. “C’mon, you’re not gonna fail it. We’ve just started.”

The hallways ware starting to get crowded as everyone hurried to move to their next class, chitchats filling the orange walls of the building.

“Yeah, and the guy already hates me”, he quickly added as he leaned towards the lockers next to yours.

When he groaned, you couldn’t help but shoot him another look. “What?”

“Why is he everywhere I go?”, he murmured between his teeth, leaning his face close to yours to make sure not to be heard by anyone else.

Brows narrowed, confused expression and hand still in the air while holding your history book, you moved your gaze to the point he was nodding at.

And there, standing near the cafeteria’s open door with some of his classmates, there was Rafe. Topper was there, as well as Kelce and two girls you didn’t know.

His features were relaxed as he laughed with them, the fluorescents reflecting an unnatural light on his light brown hair, neatly pulled back by some gel. He was wearing his football team’s jersey, which fit him so well that you couldn’t move your gaze away from him.

You didn’t like the way your stomach twisted at the sight of him in the company of those girls and you sure as hell didn’t like the way he was openly ignoring your presence.

Lost in your thoughts, you’d probably been staring at him for way too long when John B frowned again and, waving a hand in front of your face, said “Y/N?”

“What?” You blinked a few times, looking back at him. “Yeah, sorry. You were saying?”

John B gave a quick look at the group you were staring at with a weird look on his face before turning back to you. “Uh, nothing. We’re late for class, c’mon.”

When you closed your locker with a loud thud, probably using more strength than needed, Rafe finally noticed you. And his fists immediately clenched at the sight of John B standing right next to you.

He’d done everything in his power to bite the bullet and get over the fact that you were friends with him and his group. But he couldn’t stand the sight of that Routledge standing so close to you. Or the way the two of you moved almost in unison, as if it was natural for him to second your movements.

You were in the middle of your history class when your phone vibrated when you received a message.

Rafe: Meet me outside.

Giving a quick look at the teacher, whose back was turned to you as he wrote on the board, you re-read the text to make sure that you weren’t dreaming.

As much as you wanted to give in at his request, you quickly typed I’m the middle of my class.

You didn’t put the phone away, hoping that Rafe would reply. It was the only way you could contact him and you were more than happy to hear from him after the coldness he showed in the hallway.

Rafe: Say you have to go to the bath or smth. C’mon, baby.

Biting your bottom lip at his words was an automatic reaction, and you gave a quick look at your classmates to make sure that no one had noticed you blushed.

When you met John B’s eyes, he raised a brow in a silent questioning look. To dismiss your weird behavior, you just shook your head and looked away.

It took you a few moments to summon the courage to speak up, waiting for the teacher to turn towards you before raising your hand, catching his attention. “Uhm... Mister Suarez? May I go to the bathroom?”

He dismissed you with a hand gesture, which you took as a Yes, so you hurried to gather your things up and leave the class.

You weren’t exactly sure of what he meant by ‘outside’, so you looked both ways in the hallway, trying to spot him. Everything was quiet, the quiet buzzing of the fluorescents was the only sound in the background. So, when you started to walk towards your left, heading to the back exit, your footsteps echoed all around you.

Each step you took, the more excited you were. It was unusual for Rafe to ask you to do something like that, especially at school, and that’s probably the reason why you were so tense. All the hurt from before seemed vanished as you walked, being replaced by nothing but excitement.

But you knew it was only a temporary change.

A hand surrounded your bicep as you were about to walk past the chemistry lab, dragging you in as you let out a surprised squeak. There was no need for you to look up to know that it was Rafe.

The lab door closed behind you with a loud thud, isolating you from the rest of the school. The room was in semi-darkness, and that’s all you could notice before Rafe made your bag slide off your shoulder and land on the floor, being immediately forgotten there.

His blue eyes immediately found yours as he made you move backwards towards the nearest table. “Rafe”, you whispered, unable to form a meaningful thought.

“Shh”, he whispered back, caressing your bottom lip with his thumb.

And then his lips crashed on yours, not leaving you the time to process what was going on. Your instinct was to place both hands in the back of his neck, holding some strands of his perfectly styled locks between your fingers.

When your back hit the side of the table, both his hands slid down to your ass, further to your thighs. He lifted you by them, making you sit on the board without even thinking of pulling away from your lips.

Placing a hand on your lower back, he made you slide towards him, in such a way as to press your bodies together. When he pulled away from your lips to take a deep breath, he shifted his attention to your neck. Understanding his intentions, you leaned your head to second his movements, biting your bottom lip as he started to leave wet, hot kissed down to your neck.

“Rafe”, you murmured again, completely lost in those sensations. Your hands were now cupping his face, trying to pull him as close as possible to you.

But then, as your heard loud footsteps right out of the door, you repeated in a warning tone “Rafe, wait.”

The way his head quickly snapped towards the hallway told you that he’d heard them, too.

When he turned again towards you, you realized that he’d taken a few steps back from you were sitting, moving away as if he was being charged with electricity.

His reaction hurt you, again. All the excitement of the moment had quickly vanished and now you felt even more hurt than before. Hurt, used and humiliated.

When you tried to swallow to get rid of the knot that had formed in your throat, you felt tears watering your eyes, forcing you to look away from him.

With a little jump, you got off the table and hurried to get your bag from the floor. Rafe was still standing there, and he started to react only when you swung the door open and walked out of the lab.

“Y/N”, you heard him saying from behind you, but you didn’t stop.

As you stormed out of the building, quickly getting rid of the tears that had watered your cheeks, you heard his firm steps following you. “Fuck, Y/N. Wait!”

He only managed to reach you when you finally got to your car, stopping right behind you. He placed a hand on the door of the vehicle to stop you from opening it. “What’s wrong? What’s going on?”

When you turned towards him, his face was just a few inches away from yours. And his heart ached a bit when he saw your eyes filled with tears. He tried to cup your cheek, but you looked away and avoided his touch. “Y/N?”, he repeated. “Talk to me, baby.”

“Are you embarrassed of me?”, you suddenly asked.

His brows frowned in confusion at your question, as he slightly shook his head in denial. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“Answer me”, you demanded. “Are you embarrassed of being seen with me, Rafe?”

“No!”, he abruptly answered. “Of course not! Fuck”, he muttered under his breath, narrowing his eyes as if he couldn’t believe what you were asking him.

“Then why are we still keeping it a secret?” Your voice was now way lower than before. Resigned, even.

Rafe’s lips parted and you could see the indecision growing in his eyes. His beautiful, troubled eyes. “You know why”, he whispered.

Even though you tried to hide it, the irony in your voice was evident when you asked “Your father, right?”

And he fiercely nodded. “Yes! Yes, of course.”

Shifting your weight from one foot to the other, you swallowed hard. With a burden on your heart, you murmured in a low voice “Because I’m a Pogue.”

Rafe didn’t reply. He wanted to — all he wanted to do was comfort you and fix whatever was going on between the two of you at the moment, but there was nothing he could say.

“You can’t tell him about us — you don’t want him to find out about us, because you’re embarrassed of the fact that I’m a Pogue”, you concluded. And that was the unvarnished truth.

Rafe’s shoulders dropped at your words and he pulled away his hand from the car door. His eyes were glossy as you gave him a last look, before turning your back to him and getting in your car.

“Y/N”, you heard him murmur as you threw your bag on the passenger seat and turned on the engine. “Don’t go. Please.”

The vulnerability in his voice almost made you give in, but there was no turning back. So you drove away from the parking lot, leaving a hurt Rafe watching you slide away from his fingers.

[dinosaurtsukki]

[ too scared to say ]

pairing: tsukishima kei x f!reader

word count: 1.6k words

contains: slight angst, tsukishima with insecure!s/o cause he’s usually the insecure one in fics, another wedding-themed fic

a/n: had this idea for a while and i’m glad i’ve finally written it. it’s usually tsukki’s who’s insecure and guarded in xreader fics so i wanted to try it out with the reader being insecure this time

i love you.

you're caught off-guard when you hear the words from tsukishima's mouth. you never thought you'd ever hear him actually say them. as much you wished for it to happen, especially after you spent three years of high school doodling his name in the margins of your notebook, it feels too good to be true.

tsukishima looks sincere about it though. you're both seated on the couch in your apartment and even though it's pouring outside and the electricity had died, you can still make out his face in the dim lighting. you can tell it took him a great deal of effort to say that: his eyes are focused on the cushion on his lap as he picks at a stray thread, the sound of his breathing is more audible now as he inhales deeply.

this is the time where you say it back but the words catch themselves in your throat. after all, weren't you the one who got yourself into trouble for being too naive all the time? after leaving high school and all hopes of tsukishima ever liking you back behind, you tried your hand at relationships. you thought every single one of them would be your last, only to find that you had deluded yourself yet again.

meeting tsukishima again, years after high school, felt like a weird universal coincidence that you didn't know if you should thank for yet. even more so when he admitted to his feelings for you back then.

"so, what do we do about it now?" you asked.

"i'd... like to give this a shot," tsukishima said, rubbing the back of his head. you were reluctant, but agreed anyway.

you've said 'i love you' before, more than a few times. and yet, you couldn't say it now.

"aren't you... jumping to conclusions a bit?" you asked, nervously letting out a laugh.

"what do you mean?" tsukishima frowns slightly.

"just, saying that you might not be sure about that yet so... slow down a bit before saying things like that," you shrugged.

"what? you think i don't know my own feelings?" tsukishima scoffs. there's a look of hurt on his face and you can't exactly blame him for it.

"i'm sorry, tsukki," you apologize, resting your hand in the middle of the couch between you except he doesn't reach for it.

"it's fine," he shakes his head, focusing now on the wall in front of him. "i know you're not really the person you once were and, i don't mind that at all cause neither am i. sometimes, it really feels like you have a wall up."

you find yourself flinching slightly at that last part. maybe this is the part when things go south, like they always do. except, you feel sad that it had to happen with tsukishima too.

but he doesn't act like how you expect him to. "if you need time, it's fine with me," is all he says. tsukishima doesn't sound exasperated, nor frustrated at all. but he does stand up and head for the door.

'you can stay,' you think, 'please stay.'

but all you can bring yourself to say is: "take an umbrella. it's pouring outside."

...

that was about a week ago and tsukishima has barely heard from you then. he didn't know what else to do aside from give you space, and also silently regret things. maybe he was too hasty in saying that he loved you.

but, that was what he truly felt, and it wasn't easy for him to say but he did it anyway. 'you're not always losing anything when you open yourself up to someone,' akiteru had told him. and now, tsukishima was riding a bus on the way to his older brother's wedding.

he had just hung his tux on the curtain rod above the window and settled into his seat though when he caught a familiar flash of blue. of course, tsukishima would recognize your favorite dress and sat up in his seat to see you walking down the center aisle. he watched as you looked around for a seat before landing on the last empty one in the bus, which happened to be right next to tsukishima's.

"hey."

"hey," tsukishima swallowed as you approached.

"is this seat taken?" you asked.

"no, go ahead," tsukishima shook his head, his eyes distracted by the familiar dry-cleaners bag that you held in your hands. "let me help you with that," he offered, taking the hanger from your hands and hanging it up beside his tux.

“saeko nee-san invited me to the wedding,” you explained as soon as you sat down beside tsukishima. “congratulations to your brother, by the way.”

“thanks. we all, kind of saw it coming,” tsukishima chuckled. now that you were here, he realized just how much he missed you. 

“i’m sorry for not calling or anything, by the way,” you apologized. “i can’t say that this is all new to me but, it’s just... well... i’ve been in other relationships before and sometimes, it feels like things repeat themselves too much.”

tsukishima nodded, remembering the night when you two met again after so many years. he was working the counter at the bar and noticed you sitting there, obviously dressed up for a date, obviously stood up in that said date too. you were very much different from the young girl who used to invite him and yamaguchi to watch the latest romance movie theaters, the one who sang songs at the top of your lungs in your bedroom, loud enough for those downstairs to here. but that didn’t mean he liked you any less. 

“hey,” he laid a hand on top of yours. “why don’t we just enjoy today? you still love going to weddings, right?”

you smiled gratefully and chuckled. “yeah, that hasn’t changed.”

...

you fully expected to run into tsukishima at his own brother’s wedding and had thought twice about going before talking sense into yourself. and now, you were glad to have gone. 

the wedding was absolutely charming and more than a few of your old high school friends came. you and tsukishima were seated with yamaguchi and yachi at the same table and chatted about old times and what the volleyball duo was up to. saeko looked stunning in her dress and akiteru cried more than a few times during the ceremony. tsukishima looked proud of his brother, and more than a little tired of his new brother-in-law.

“they look really good together,” you sighed, smiling at akiteru and saeko who were breakdancing in the middle of the dance floor, the latter doing much better than the former. 

“yeah,” tsukishima chuckled. “they barely met each other in high school but i could tell nii-chan was star-struck when they met at the shiratorizawa match.”

“and now look at them,” you giggled. “kind of the opposite of us, in a way.”

“yeah, because you were definitely head over heels for me,” tsukishima snickered. you smacked his arm with the back of your hand.

“and you were too dense to realize it,” you countered. 

“not exactly. just thought it was too good to be true,” tsukishima smiled wryly. 

“we should have been accidentally locked into a room together to force us to admit our feelings.” 

“you and your romance movie cliches.”

you chuckled at that. “just saying. would have made things way easier for everyone.” you sighed again and remembered the confession letter you had penned to tsukishima before deciding to stash it away in your desk. then, you turned to tsukishima who was watching his brother and sister-in-law dance. 

maybe you were going to enjoy yourself tonight.

“hey, tsukishima?”

“yeah?”

“wanna dance with me?”

...

with the dancing and frequent visits to the wine bar, you ended up enjoying the wedding immensely. but as much as you didn’t want to, it was finally time to go home. you and tsukishima didn’t even bother changing out of your formal clothes before catching the last bus back home. your hair had escaped from its pins and you were definite that there was mascara smudged under your eye. tsukishima’s tie hung loosely around his neck and he had already unbuttoned the upper part of his shirt.

all of the dancing tired him out way more than you, but it was a pleasant surprise for him to comply with your request. you also had the wine to thank for tsukishima deciding to break dance for about a minute when his older brother asked him to. 

as soon as he was seated, tsukishima was out like a light with his head leaned back against the seat and his mouth slightly hanging open. looking at him, you realized that he was someone you didn’t want to let go. dating him was scarier because of that and you didn’t want tsukishima to be one of those people you were eventually going to say goodbye to.

but how could he be that person if you don’t ask him to stay in the first place?

once again, you remembered the confession letter that you had wrote to him all those years ago. there was a tremble in your hand when you wrote down the last line of that letter, so much that it screwed up the writing and you decided not to send the letter anyway. you glanced at tsukishima’s misty reflection in the fogged up glass of the bus before using your finger to write down that line.

i love you

the words looked like they were suspended in the air and fragile enough to be blown away by the wind. with a swipe of your hand, you could easily erase the message.

and that’s when tsukishima wakes up. 

his sleepy eyes travel from you to the message written on the window and his eyes widen when he realizes what you’ve written down. with a smile, he leans over, and writes a word right under your message.

i love you too

▸ 🎕 ┈┈┈┈ 🎕 ┈┈┈┈ 🎕 ┈┈┈┈ 🎕 ┈┈┈┈ 🎕 ◂

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[skiyoosmi]

– caramel frappucino ch. 27

marga’s notes. AHHH hello my loveliest readers; i cannot believe we have finally reached this end (well, not really the last chap ‘cause we still have two epilogue-like chaps coming up but yeah)… i hope you enjoy this part!! PLUS LISTEN TO THE SONGS CAUSE AHHHHH THE. MOOD. FITS.

♪ CHAPTER THEME ♪

on the train ride home by the paper kites | quiet eyes by axel flóvent

previous | masterlist | next

 “Do I look okay?” you asked, head turning to your cousin who was casually lounging around your room. For the umpteenth time of the day, Tetsurou released an exasperated sigh, looking away from the game he was playing on his mobile phone and glaring at you while lying on your neatly-folded bed.

“That’s what you’ve been asking for the past hour and I keep telling you yes,” he grumbled as he adjusted his body so he now laid on his stomach, continuing to scroll through his phone and at the same time, muttering some stuff about how he hopes you miss the fireworks show. Seconds later, he let out a loud yelp as he felt something hit him right on the back of his head. He scowled in your direction upon noticing the missing pink hairbrush that was previously in your hand, now on the floor.

“You brought me into this situation so don’t curse on me now. This… is your ship sailing,” you gestured to your face that was fancily styled for the night out. You only rolled your eyes when he childishly stuck his tongue out as a reply, going back to fixing whatever still needs to be fixed.

A few more minutes of doing unnecessary things passed before a knock resonated through your apartment’s front door. Tetsurou immediately jumped up from his position on your bed, giggling when he passed by your form before skipping his way downstairs to open the door for your guest.

To say that your heart was beating loud is an understatement – hell, you could almost swear it’s about to burst out of your chest from its pounding. Stop sweating, doofus! You’ll ruin your makeup, you silently screamed at yourself, feeling the dampness slowly beginning to form around your forehead and neck out of extreme anxiety.

“Y/N! Get your butt downstairs. Your date’s already here,” the teasing and boisterous voice of your cousin echoed throughout the apartment, followed by another giggle after a few seconds, probably because Sakusa replied to his rather embarassing comment. Despite not seeing the two, you felt your face flush; it wasn’t like you’re denying that it was a date… it was just unusual to hear especially when your date was someone like Sakusa.

After gathering enough nerves to face them, you took a deep breath and looked at your vanity mirror for the last time, hands smoothing down your red floral yukata for any crease that formed. Soon, you found yourself bashfully standing in front of the two tall men as Sakusa’s eyes shamelessly scanned your figure. Although he himself was wearing a simple navy yukata, you couldn’t fathom what he was thinking seeing as his face was adorned with his usual mask that was, for some reason, black this time.

“You look nice,” he nodded at your direction while you smiled, returning the compliment you have surprisingly received from him; you knew that your face was red as hell right now based on how your cousin was biting his lips to keep himself from laughing.

“Now, go! Enjoy yourselves and remember to make the wish,” he winked, pushing you both out of the door with his hands on your lower backs. You both gave him a glare that he only ignored, waving goodbye as you went on your way.

“I hope he understood what I said about making the wish though.”

“I’m sorry, he really didn’t mean to,” you profusely bowed your head at the man almost twice your age who was glowering at your companion who, in return, remained unbothered. On the ends of the said man’s feet were his spilled strawberry and milk kakigōri which Sakusa, coming from the old man’s words, knocked over when he bumped into him while walking beside the food stalls.

“Young miss, instead of apologizing when it’s not your fault, you should teach your companion how to be respectful to his elders,” he shook his head from side to side in a mocking disappointment, as if to annoy Sakusa further.

“Are you implying that I am disrespectful?” Sakusa countered, hands clenching a little bit as he tried to calm himself down. He doesn’t need a nameless man almost ruining both of your nights right now. Still, his pride didn’t let him let this one go; he couldn’t give this man the satisfaction when he clearly knows to himself that he didn’t bump into him a while ago. If anything, it was the older man who purposely bump into the two of you – probably cause you kind of looked a little too beautiful tonight.

Sure, he won’t deny that he found you pretty right from the moment he met you, one of the main reasons he decided to keep on talking to you and befriending you instead of loathing you for spilling the caramel frappucino on him. For some reason however, the way you styled yourself tonight made you even more gorgeous in his eyes, if that was still possible.

“Just drop it, ‘Omi,” you harshly whispered, fingers grabbing a fold of his yukata and tugging on it to stop him from engaging into an unnecessary fight. In addition to that, you were pretty sure the fireworks show will go off any moment now; you had to find yourselves a decent place where you can watch the much-anticipated event or else you will seriously sulk into a corner until next year’s festival.

“Apologize,” the man ordered but to no avail, Sakusa still stood his ground; even going as far as grabbing your hands with his and pulling you into the opposite direction. From behind you, you could hear a noise of protest and a ‘you little s–‘ before it was cut off. He kept on pulling you despite your arguments about how he should’ve just lowered his pride and said he’s sorry.

“Why would I say sorry when I didn’t do anything? It’s clear as a day that he’s just trying to prolong the conversation so he could take more look of you.”

“W-what…” you stuttered, not really being able to understand what he was trying to say. As if he was able to read your mind, he let out a frustrated sigh after removing his black mask.

“He had this disgusting look that screams he wants to take you out despite him being older by so much. I’m saying it’s because you look too pretty tonight,” the last sentence he told you immediately caused your face to flush a deep red; you were just so thankful it was nighttime or else you wouldn’t be able to live off the embarrassment of being so flustered from a simple compliment.

A few seconds later, it dawned upon you that he brought you to a rather secluded place by the top of the small hill where you still had a good view of what was about to come. Observing the area, you began to think Sakusa also watches the yearly event, judging by how he knew that this kind of secret place existed. People usually crowded by the bridge since it has the widest space and the clearest view which also meant that on this hill, you two were alone together.

He then took out a large piece of clothing that he laid on the ground, sitting cross-legged and patting the space next to him as he gestured for you to sit as well. Following his request, you gently sat down and looked ahead the reflection of the moon by the river.

“Are you feeling alright these days?” you only hummed in reply, too entranced by the night’s beauty. Ten minutes from now, the fireworks will make it even more beautiful.

“I’ve never pestered you about your… situation with Iwaizumi-san, but I felt like I needed to ask how you are,” he explained upon catching your eyes that were filled with wonder and curiosity due to his sudden question. Your mouth formed a small ‘o’ before giving him a small smile.

“I’m really okay, don’t worry. I just feel guilty sometimes, you know? In my mind, there are just some thoughts that pass by… things like I wish I’ve known so I didn’t hurt him that long,” you let out a quiet sigh, folding your arms over your knee and placing your chin on it. The quiet cricket of the night bugs adding more solemnity in the air as you both talked.

“Do you wish to go back to that time? And maybe be in a relationship with him?” you immediately shook your head ‘no.’

“No, no… not that kind of regret. I wouldn’t have agreed to be in a relationship either way. I was too young and too dumb; I know it won’t work out between us. I mean… I just get that feeling that we won’t.”

“Then why do you feel sad?” you mulled over his question, trying to form the right words that will truly explain how you really felt with everything that has happened.

“It’s something like… I wish I’d known so I could’ve rejected him right away? Is that cruel? I mean, maybe if I did that, we wouldn’t have gone through such pain for such a long time, get rid of the false hopes we had for each other. Hell, I don’t even remember anymore what it feels like to be really happy without thinking of such thoughts,” you sadly chuckled before shrugging and leaning back as you saw the people from faraway beginning to take their phones out, signaling that the fireworks show was almost beginning.

You felt Sakusa scoot closer to you; something you didn’t expect since you knew he never liked getting close to another person. You were sure as hell by now that all throughout the night, he was acting really weird; something different compared to his usual demeanor – not that it freaked you out though. If anything, you liked his slight clinginess too much… but you didn’t need him being weirded out so you opted to not saying anything.

“Is that your wish?” he quietly asked, making you jump out of surprise for his sudden closeness. His nimble fingers were on your chin, turning your head so you could look at his eyes that screamed a thousand feelings.

“W-what?” you breathed out, internally cursing because you didn’t even know how many times you’ve stuttered tonight.

“I’ve read somewhere that if you make a wish and… give the person beside you a kiss, it will come true so I’m asking you, is that your wish? To be truly happy,” he whispered, eyes flickering from your eyes to your lips. If this was any other person, you were pretty sure you would’ve slapped the wits out of him due to his statement’s ridiculousness but for some reason, you couldn’t move away from him.

“I… I think so,” you meekly nodded, gulping as he seemed to have no plan on moving at all. You think you can hear the fireworks crackling as it began to light up the sky, booming over the night sky as it tried to get your attention 

“I’ll try my best to make you happy then.”

… but the feeling of soft lips crashing into yours as soon as he said what he wanted to say was enough to leave you distracted. It wasn’t like anything you have imagined before; this – this was full of love, magic and adoration, something you have missed when you often wondered what it felt like to have a kiss. Heartbeats powering the sound of the explosions and sparks as he intertwined his fingers into yours, panting for breath when he released himself from you.

“Y-you.... kissed me... you hate germs... and I missed the fireworks,” you mumbled, feeling rather lightheaded from kissing him too long. He lightly chuckled, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, leaning over to give you another peck.

“I think we can let those slide just this once.”