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dhwty-writes · 3 years ago

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The Terribly Sad and Tragic Affair that Is the Fake Funeral of Shadowhand Essek Thelyss

Apparently, I am not only drawing for the Critical Role fandom, but writing for it, too. After months of nearly no progress I just vomited out 3k words this Tuesday and it only went downhill from there.

This fic is based on this post by @anne-o-nyme, I really hope I managed to capture the energy of it.

Have fun!

Summary: There were eight strangers in the foyer of his dead brother's towers and Verin Thelyss was slowly losing his patience.

After the sudden "death" of Shadowhand Essek Thelyss, it is his brother Verin's job to empty out his towers. The Mighty Nein show up to help (and maybe steal a few things).

OR: Verin is grieving, Essek just wants his stuff back, and the Mighty Nein are the Mighty Nein.

Warnings: I didn't tag this with MCD, because Essek is technically alive and kicking. Since Verin doesn't know that though, and this fic is written from his POV, this is dealing with grief and includes depictions of depressive thoughts as well as anxiety attacks. For more explicit warnings, please mind the tags on AO3. Take care of yourselves, and let me know if I forgot anything.

Read on AO3

There were eight strangers in the foyer of his dead brother's towers and Verin Thelyss was slowly losing his patience. "Listen," he said with what little calm he had left, "I know that by returning one of our beacons you became heroes of the Dynasty and were placed under Es— My bro— his stewardship. But this here—" he gestured vaguely at the interior of Essek's towers that had always been too cold, too empty, but not like now, never like now— "This is a very difficult situation for me, so if you could please leave, that would be greatly appreciated."

"Yes, yes, it's very sad that Essek died," the blue tiefling said—Jester, her name was Jester; she had given him that already as she had offered him her condolences with a hug—and Verin could barely contain his anger. After the funeral he had quite enough of lying dignitaries, nobles, and heroes currying favours with him. That had always been Essek's thing, he would know what to do, how to make them regret even daring to speak up; Verin had never been any good at it.

"But we're his friends!" He grit his teeth at Jester's blatant falsehood. Perhaps his anger showed on his face, since the tiefling faltered. "And, uh— Fjord?"

"It's true," the half-orc with too-smooth words and too-smooth voice lied, too. "We spent quite some time with your, er— your brother here. Made some good memories. We thought we might take this as our chance to say goodbye, too."

"We are here to help as well. We wouldn't want to infringe upon your grief, though," the tall firbolg added. "So, if you'd prefer us to return at a later point, we'd be happy to."

Verin was still trying to process everything—from these strangers showing up unannounced to their overwhelming presence to the fact that his brother was dead—while simultaneously trying to keep an eye on the halfling who looked like she might have sticky fingers. So, he latched onto the word that stood out the most to him: "Help?"

"Right," Fjord said, looking slightly embarrassed, "we probably should have led with that..."

"We should have called ahead, too," the scary-looking human in blue—they didn't even wear white for the funeral—added. "We always forget to call ahead."

"But Beau, how should we have called ahead?" Jester complained. "We didn't know Verin yet."

"Well, Essek—" the human was interrupted by the even scarier-looking woman next to her stepping on her foot unsubtly. She at least had the decency to act embarrassed. "Right. Sorry 'bout that."

Awkward silence fell across the room, the Mighty Nein looking anywhere but him. It took him a few moments to realise they were waiting for him to speak up. "Help how?" Verin could have kicked himself. By the Light, he could do better than that. He had to do better than that.

A beat of silence followed, then everyone seemed to talk at once. Verin wanted to weep. How was he supposed to deal with this? How had his brother dealt with this? 'He probably hasn't,' he thought. 'They're probably all liars, probably—'

Someone cleared their throat and all eyes turned to the other human who hadn't said anything so far and who looked properly miserable. Immediately, the Mighty Nein fell silent. "Word has reached us that Den Thelyss ordered these premises to be vacated as early as possible," he said quietly with an accent Verin has been taught that belonged to the enemy. "And while some of us may not look like much, I can assure you, we are quite capable."

His eyebrows shot up to his hairline. "I supposed such menial tasks are beneath the heroes of the dynasty. There are servants—"

"Well, sure," the halfling with the probably sticky fingers interrupted, "but we know him. Knew him, I mean; sorry, force of habit."

"Besides, there's a lot of stuff," the lavender tiefling, who Verin was pretty sure was a known pirate, piped up. "Looks like you could use the help."

"If you want to, of course," the sad Empire human added.

Verin only wanted to scream, to give room to the torrent of thoughts raging in his head. 'My brother just died. My brother just died and he wasn't consecuted, so he's gone for good. He's gone for good and I didn't even know him; I didn't even know about these supposed friends he had because he didn't allow me near him in decades. I was a horrible brother and so was he, but I can't even be mad at him because he's dead.

'And now these liars show up and talk about friendship and knowing him, but those are all lies, horrible ones, because Essek had no friends. Essek was cold and cruel and lonely and do you even know how horrible that is? Dying alone with no-one who mourns you, just the favours you still owe them? Do you? I don't even know, and I'm his brother.'

Were he a weaker man, a less disciplined one, he might have said so. But he was Taskhand Verin of Den Thelyss and he had learned discipline before he had learned to talk. So, he said: "Your help would be greatly appreciated, thank you. I'll have the servants bring up some tea. There are, uh—" He straightened his back, summoning the composure that was befitting a Taskhand, even one with a dead brother. "There are boxes up there, they've been brought to the rooms already. Anything of value will be sold; the rest will be given to charity. The things— Well, if you find anything that might have sentimental value, something in his handwriting, perhaps, I think I should like to keep that, please."

The firbolg nodded sagely. "Of course. We will be careful with our selection."

With that, Verin turned around and— froze. Where was he even supposed to start? The towers had always seemed to huge for just Essek and he knew that there were very few personal belongings in them. Still, they would have to be scoured clean within the fortnight.

A large hand on his shoulder made him jump, although he'd never admit it. "Sometimes, when a task seems too large, you should start with the smallest part," the firbolg said. "If I were you, I'd start with the smallest room."

"Thank you, that, uh— that seems like good advice," Verin replied, still a bit startled and confused. "I, er— I'm afraid I didn't catch your name."

"Caduceus Clay. I live in a graveyard, so I'm used to this," Clay said, as if it was the most normal thing in the world.

Verin furrowed his brows slightly. A graveyard? It seemed highly unlikely to him that one of the heroes of the Dynasty would live in a graveyard of all places. Perhaps they were not only liars, but impostors too? But they had the symbols of the Bright Queen, so there wasn't much that he could say.

"Right," he mumbled. "I believe the smallest room would be the closet. Although it might be tied with the bathroom..." He trailed off again. He had never seen Essek's bedroom in his towers. Judging by how many times he had even seen the inside of the building; he could count himself lucky if he even found the way there.

"Why don't we split up?" Clay suggested. "One group takes the closet, one the bathroom and one the bedroom. We'd get done sooner that way."

"That is a great idea, Caduceus," Jester said excitedly. "I'll take the bathroom; I promised— er, I'm curious if I can find more of that hair oil, I got for Fjord that one time!"

"Ohhh, are you saying this is... an investigation?!" the halfling joined in.

"That's exactly what I'm saying, Veth!"

"Seems like a case for Wildemount's best detectives!"

"Bye, Verin!" Jester called and he blinked and they were gone. Fjord joined them as well, muttering something about having to supervise them.

The purple pirate-tiefling shrugged, heading off in the same direction. "Well, I wouldn't mind rifling through some drawers. I'll have a look at that bedroom."

"Yeah, I don't need to see Essek's underwear, so I'll pass on the closet," Beau added tactfully—Verin was getting the sneaking suspicion that manners were not really her strong suit. She linked hands with the large woman at her side, pulling her along. "Come on, Yash."

"I'll go handle the tea," Clay said. "Don't worry about it." He vanished in the direction of the kitchen, his steps accompanied by the constant tap tap tap of his staff.

When Verin looked around, he realised that only the sad Empire human was left with him in the hallway. "If you wouldn't mind," he said, pointedly avoiding eye-contact, "I would love to have a look at the closet. I always, ah— appreciated your brother's sense of fashion."

Verin blinked at him a few times, then shrugged. "Sure." He began heading up the stairs.

"My condolences," the human continued. "I realise I didn't speak up earlier, but— I am sorry for your loss."

"Thank you," he said, letting the same numb feeling wash over him again that he had embraced since the news of Essek's death had reached him.

"I know that we seem like a bunch of, ah— forgive my language, but assholes, but we're really here to help. I will tell the others to tone it down a bit."

"Thank you," he repeated.

"If you'd prefer that we start in, ah— less personal rooms, we can do that also."

"If I'm perfectly honest, I don't even know what I should be doing there."

"Neither am I." The human laughed nervously. "I have dealt with grief before, but I've never had the, ah— how do you call it? Hang on." He pulled out a copper wire and whispered: "Beau, how do you say zweifelhafte Ehre in Common? You can reply to this message." A moment later he straightened. "Right. I never had the dubious honour of emptying out a deceased person's house before."

"Neither did I," Verin admitted. 'Usually, the deceased person comes back,' he didn't say. Instead, he opted for: "You're, er— What's the word in Common? You're weird? I'm sorry if that's insulting, I just— waele xanalressen [stupid languages]."

"I don't understand your words, but I think I understand the sentiment." The man grimaced. "And I've heard that one before. I hope we're not too much of a... too much."

"It's alright," he lied and opened the door to Essek's bedroom.

It wasn't alright; Verin wanted to weep again.

The door to the bathroom stood ajar, as did several drawers and cabinets, although he couldn't glance inside. Considering that he heard glass shatter and a quiet "oops" followed by a hushed "Jester!" he was rather glad about that. Besides, what he saw was already quite enough to handle. Beau was currently rifling through Essek's nightstand, the tall woman tossing unread books on the bed carelessly, while the lavender tiefling seemed to make his way through his brother's collections of make-up and jewellery alike.

They froze when they spotted him and the sad human in the door. "Heeey, Verin," Beau drawled.

"These were all still closed, I swear," the lavender tiefling said immediately, gesturing at the jars in front of them.

Verin just sighed in defeat. "I don't wear any make-up, I don't care; you can have it. Put the jewellery in the box to be sold; the books are for charity if he hasn't read them. Just leave the earrings in front of the mirror, please. Those were his favourites."

Without another glance at them, Verin headed straight to Essek's closet, desperate to get some quiet. He took a few moments to collect himself, before closing the door and leaning his head against it with a heavy thunk.

He stayed like that for a minute or maybe two until he heard someone clear their throat. "I have been debating for the past fifty-five seconds, if I should just Dimension Door out," the sad human said and Verin very nearly jumped out of his skin, "but that would be loud and I didn't want to startle you. Not that I didn't startle you like this but—"

"Vithin shu," Verin cursed.

"Vithin shu ke," the sad human agreed, his accent in Undercommon even heavier than normally.

For a moment, they both stared at each other, equally startled by the course of events. Then, the human looked away again. "I, ah— have started learning Undercommon before, um— well, before." Verin tried very hard to focus on the way the human was scratching at his forearms; that way he had something else to focus on besides his nearing breakdown.

"This is a bit embarrassing, but, ah— I believe I forgot to introduce myself," the human continued. "I'm Caleb Widogast. Essek and I were... friends, yes, and ah— colleagues, of some sort. It's... complicated."

He scratched at his arms again before turning towards the shelves and pulling out a stack of tunics. He unfolded one, looked at it, then carefully folded it again, cast a cantrip to smooth out the wrinkles, and put it in the charity box. Then he repeated the procedure with the next. And the next. And the next.

Verin frowned, thinking for a moment about his words. There was something about them that seemed painfully familiar, although he couldn't quite remember. Then: "The transmutation specialist."

Widogast looked up in surprise. "Yes."

"Essek told me of you," Verin admitted.

The last time they had seen each other had been here, in these towers, just a few months ago. He had found his brother in his office, pouring over notes for a new spell, alive and healthy as ever. As always, he had entered without knocking. As always, he had pretended to read the notes. Not as always, he had noticed something wrong. "Whose handwriting is that?" he had asked.

"What?" Essek had snapped, his head whipping up. Then, however, his expression had softened. "Oh. A friend's. A colleague, of sorts. He's helping me out, a bit."

"With the spell?" Verin had asked incredulously.

"Yes. He's a transmutation specialist; you know that's not my forte. Now give it back, will you?"

"A colleague, huh?" He had grinned and held the paper out of Essek's reach. "Are you sure that's all?"

Perhaps Essek had been sick after all, for the strangest thing had happened: instead of using his floating cantrip to snatch the notes back, he had gotten a dreamy, far-off look in his eyes. He had even smiled with an expression Verin might have called dopey, if it weren't his brother they were talking about. After a few moments, he had snapped out of it, sighed, and said: "It's complicated."

"Did he?" Widogast asked tentatively. "Did he, ah— did he say anything else about me?"

Verin pinned him down with a glare, sizing him up. In hindsight, he should have noticed the thick spellbook at his hip earlier; judging by his slim frame alone, he should have known the man was a wizard. He supposed Widogast was handsome enough, although his brother had never cared much for that, with his copper hair and his striking blue eyes. Blue eyes around which crows' feet were gathering, as he noticed to his dismay. 'He's human,' Verin reminded himself. He might have a few decades left, maybe, whereas Essek had centuries ahead of him. The thought why his brother might condemn himself to more loneliness crossed his mind, though it hardly mattered. His brother had been the first to die, after all.

"Verin?" Widogast inquired quietly.

"I'm sorry," he answered with a thick voice. "I got lost in my thoughts there. He, uhh— he said that he trusted you." That didn't even begin to cover it, but these Mighty Nein had been lying to him since the moment they got here, so what was a little lie by omission? Besides, there were some memories that he wanted to keep just to himself.

"Essek," he had teased, still waving the sheet of paper out his reach. "Come on! Aren't we brothers?"

Essek had crossed his arms and pouted. He hadn't done that since they were both little. "Unfortunately. You are a menace. And a child."

"If you tell me about him, I'll give it back. Is he handsome? Is he a drow? Where's he from? How did you meet? When will I meet him? Can I promise to kill him if he hurts you?"

"Verin!" Essek had groaned and hid his face in his hands.

"What do you do when you meet? I bet you stay up all night, talking about 'arcane research' or something."

"We do, in fact. Are you done now?"

"Oh, is that what young people call it these days?" He had cackled at his own joke.

"Evidently not," Essek had muttered. "Might I remind you that you're younger than me?"

"Might I remind you that you're a buzzkill?" Verin had shot back and placed the note down. He had gotten bored of his own game.

Essek had taken the sheet of paper almost reverently and thanked him. "I would have hated it to rewrite that page." He had smoothed it down, stored it safely away in a folder, silent for a long time. Then, he had said: "Caleb."

"Excuse me?"

"That's his name," Essek had said. "Caleb Widogast."

Verin had frowned. "Hey, Essek?"

"Hm?"

"You must trust him a lot, to share a spell with him."

His brother had taken a shuddering breath and closed his eyes. Verin hadn't expected him to answer, yet he'd said: "I do, actually. It's not the first spell we've created together and I would be honoured to create a thousand more with him. I'd trust him with my life, my death, and beyond. I think—" He'd huffed. "I think I trust him almost as much as I trust you."

Verin watched Widogast as he was looking through his brother's tunics, placing most of them in the charity box, and he wondered. Wondered if the trust Essek had obviously put in Widogast had been misplaced. Wondered if it had extended to his friends, as well. Wondered if ultimately trust had been his downfall, as he'd always feared.

Then again, if Essek had trusted him... perhaps that trust had been mutual. Perhaps they had been friends. Perhaps there was another person mourning his brother after all.

"Do I have something on my face?" Verin had given up on counting how many times Widogast had now startled him out of his thoughts.

"No, no I—," Verin stammered. "I'm sorry."

He tilted his head to the side. "For staring?"

"No, er— For your loss." Liar or no liar, it only seemed appropriate.

"Oh." Widogast turned back to the tunics. Verin probably should get started, too, shouldn't he? "Thank you. Though I'd wager your loss weighs heavier than mine."

"Probably," he agreed and turned to the task at hand. At this point, Widogast had moved on from the simple tunics to Essek's court regalia. After a short moment of consideration, Verin decided to look through the pants; he also had no interest in sorting through his dead brother's underwear.

Out of the corner of his eye he kept watching the wizard, pulling out one cloak after the other. At a few he wrinkled his nose, at others he just stared before putting them with the tunics. After a while one made him pause; an elaborate, beautiful robe in deep purple. "This is what he was wearing when we first met him," he said.

'He hated that one,' Verin thought. Not that he could say that out loud. Instead, he cocked his head and asked: "Are you sure? He has a lot of those. Had, I mean. Had a lot of those."

"Yeah, I'm sure." He tapped his temple with a faint smile. "I have a good memory."

"As does Essek," he snapped, suddenly feeling very defensive about his brother's capabilities. "I suppose most wizards do."

Infuriatingly, Widogast only nodded. "Indeed. Or they're not very good ones."

Silently, Verin turned back to the trousers. The sooner he got done, the sooner he got these people out of his brother's towers, the better. He didn't know for how long they worked in silence, Verin reminiscing about the times he had seen Essek wear the clothes and wondering about those he didn't know. Eventually, he folded the last of them and forced himself to return to the present. "I think we're done here," he announced. "Do you have a preference for a next room?"

"Perhaps the library?" Widogast offered a tentative smile. "I think I might be of more use there than folding clothes."

"More use than I will be, surely."

"I take it the wizardry doesn't run in the family, then?"

Verin only scoffed and opened the door to the bedroom again.

He immediately spotted Beau leafing through one of the books Essek had never read, while the tiefling was chatting amiably with the aasimar while braiding her hair. He also noted the boxes neatly stacked in the middle of the room. Besides that, he noticed with a heavy heart, the room looked much the same. If anything, it looked less orderly and empty than before. Except for—

"Where are Essek's earrings?" Verin demanded to know.

"What earrings?" the lavender tiefling replied with a too-wide grin the same moment Beau said: "Dude, there's tons of them, why don't—"

"No," he said decisively. "Essek's favourite earrings; they're always up here. I told you about them. Where are they?" His hands curled into fists, his neatly manicured fingernails pressing almost painfully into his skin.

"Perhaps you should look in one of the boxes," the aasimar woman suggested "I'm sure they're—"

"You're lying," Verin interrupted her, barely containing his anger. "Why are you lying? If they're in one of the boxes, then only because you put them there. So: where are they?"

Widogast only now stepped out of the closet, wearing an amber necklace he hadn't noticed before. "Verin—" he said tentatively, but he'd had enough.

"Shut up!" He startled himself with how loud his voice was. But he was beyond caring. "I know they're not in there, because the only ones to put them in there would have been you. So, either you're lying about having them put in there, or you're lying about stealing them, I don't care. Just— please. Please give them back."

The four of them passed a guilty glance. "We can't," Beau replied finally.

"The fuck you can't," Verin spat. "Give them back!"

"Verin, love, we would really love to," the tiefling added, "but we can't."

"I don't understand; is it precious things you want? Here, have some!" He strode over to the boxes and ripped the first open, tossing the lid towards the bathroom door Jester was peeking out of. He reached in to grab a necklace—an ugly one, he had always thought, with a stylised beacon—and threw it in their direction.

Beau caught it. Of course.

"Have a whole box, actually, if you like them so damn much." He reached inside and pulled out a jewellery box, tears prickling in his eyes. He threw one of those, too, just for good measure. It gave him some satisfaction that Widogast had to dodge it. "Just give me back the bloody earrings that my brother wore at my fucking consecution!" He was properly crying now and could only imagine the mess he looked like, but he had reached his limit. And, in his opinion, he was allowed to with all that was going on.

At least they looked a little bit guilty. "Fuck man, we didn't know," Beau mumbled.

"It's just one pair, Beau," Jester called over from the bathroom. "I'm sure it will be alright."

"Yes, there's no need for this to escalate," Fjord agreed and strode over to them, his hands raised innocently.

"I don't even know you people," Verin muttered, looking at the people crowding into his brother's bedroom. "Why did I even let you inside?"

"Do you want the earrings back?" the aasimar woman asked, reaching into a bag at her hip. Had she been carrying a greatsword for the whole time? Verin suddenly noticed how overpowered he was, were he to face all of them. "You can have them back if you want. Here, you can have them back."

"For a moment," Widogast added, slowly drawing closer to him and taking the earrings from the aasimar. He held them out on his flat hand, almost like he had seen soldiers offer treats to horses. His whole demeanour reminded him of someone trying to calm a spooked animal. For some reason, that seemed hilarious to him and he couldn't help the hysterical giggle that escaped his throat.

"Verin, I need you to calm down," he continued. "I know that's easier said than done, but you need your head."

"I think we should all calm down," Clay said from the doorway. And despite being surprised again, he did. It didn't make any sense, but few things these days did.

"Did it work?" the halfling asked. Verin wasn't really sure what she was talking about.

"It did," Clay confirmed.

"Gut," Widogast said and pressed the earrings that had seemed so important a moment ago into Verin's hands. "I think we should maybe go somewhere else, ja? Will you come with me?"

Inadvisable as it might be, if Essek had trusted that man, he should, too. And out of all of the Nein, he seemed to be the most normal one. The one he could see Essek with most. So, he nodded.

"I'll get us back to the kitchen, quickly." Caleb held out his hand and Verin closed his eyes, steeling himself. 'I hate Dimension Door,' was the last thing that crossed his mind before the teleportation spell ripped him away, together with: 'We haven't been to the kitchen, yet.'

Evidently, there went something wrong with the spell. Verin didn't know much about magic, but he knew Dimension Door couldn't transport more than two people. So, when he heard Beau groan and say "Fuck, dude, warn us next time," he knew that something wasn't right.

"You knew about the plan, Beauregard," Widogast replied.

"It doesn't matter," Fjord decided. "Caduceus, do you think you could make tea again? I think the Calm Emotions is about to wear off."

Cautiously, Verin opened one eye, then the other. They were, in fact, standing in a kitchen, as far as he could tell. All of the Mighty Nein were surrounding him. The furniture seemed to have been made for people taller than them; Essek probably would need to float in order to avoid awkwardly climbing onto the chair. The firbolg, however, who was fussing with a teapot, seemed to fit right in. All in all, the interior was very rustic. And very much not in Essek's towers, not that he had ever seen that room, of course.

The panic hit him once more. Verin whirled around to the wizard, instinctively grasping for his sword. "Where the fuck—" he faltered, finding his hip bare. Of course, he hadn't brought it for the funeral. Instead, he opted for just grasping Widogast by the lapels and lifting him up a bit. It was supposed to be menacing, which surely would be more effective, were humans not so annoyingly tall. "Where the fuck are we?!" he spat out.

A lot of things seemed to happen at once—he heard a "Fuck, man, what-" from Beau, a "Well, Mister Thelyss" from the pirate, several hands trying to tug him away from the weak wizard—but he didn't pay them any mind. He just shook Widogast, who looked entirely too calm for his liking, and demanded: "Answer me!"

"Leave him," was all Widogast said. "He has every right to be angry."

Indeed, the people grasping at him retreated, still on guard and surrounding him. There was a creak outside the door and Verin desperately wished for his sword once more. Then, a voice cut through the tense silence that had descended over the kitchen: "Caleb, is that you? You're back early."

"Yeah, there were some complications. Best come and look yourself, Schatz."

There was a sigh that was entirely too familiar for Verin's liking. Then, the door opened with a creak and in walked a dead man. "Complications," Essek Thelyss said with a fond smile. "I was just a Sending away, what did you come here fo— oh."

The person wearing his brother's face stopped in their tracks as they saw him. A couple of complicated emotions passed over his face—confusion, surprise, regret, guilt. If he hadn't known before, Verin was certain now that they were impostors, all of them. His brother would never tolerate such a display of weakness. Still, the impostor said: "Hello, brother."

Verin whipped his head back around to the wizard in his grasp. "What the fuck are you playing at?" he hissed.

"I- what- Verin!" the Essek-impostor sputtered. "What are you doing; put him down!"

"I would appreciate that, yes," Widogast added.

"Not before you don't tell me what's going on."

"Going on?" The impostor sneered and shook his head in a perfect imitation of his brother. "Nothing is going on, Verin."

"You died," he accused him.

"Evidently not," Essek scoffed.

Verin narrowed his eyes, looking from the man claiming to be his brother over the other too calm wizard to the rest of the Nein, seemingly perfectly happy to let this play out. "Prove it," he demanded. "Tell me something only my brother would know."

"You've become paranoid," he noted and Verin couldn't decide if it sounded proud or disappointed. "Alright. When you and I were in our early thirties, you once got in trouble for scaling the outside of mother's mansion. Rightfully, I should have gotten in trouble, too, but I was hiding on the attic. And the reason you never told anyone, is because then you'd have had to explain that I, the wizard, had somehow outpaced you, the fighter, in a climbing competition."

Verin wrinkled his nose at that. "Well, my brother cheated."

"I did not cheat, thank you very much!" He huffed indignantly and crossed his arms. "You didn't say 'no magic' before we started."

He stared at Essek for a few moments. "It's you," he whispered.

"Obviously."

Verin dropped the wizard on the ground and looked over at his brother; really looked. The man looked nothing like the one he had known for most of his life. His hair was longer than it had ever been since he'd cut it off and his bare feet were touching the ground. His clothes were casual, a simple tunic and trousers. After this day, Verin knew for a fact that not even Essek's trancing clothes were that informal, and yet his brother looked more comfortable in them in another's house than he had in decades. On top of that, he kept glancing over to Widogast. And smiling. Essek was smiling.

No, this man looked nothing like the one Verin had known for nearly a century. But he looked a lot like his brother.

"You're alive," he said stupidly.

"Yes, of course I am," Essek said, as if Verin hadn't just attended his funeral.

It felt only right to tell him so: "Why are you alive? I was at your funeral."

"That's a long story," he sighed and floated onto one of the chairs that were slightly too tall for him. He accepted a cup of tea from Clay with thanks and turned back to Verin. "Why are you here?"

"Well, that's a pretty long story, too," Jester spoke up. "He kind of started freaking out about your earrings, I think? And he was crying and looking pretty awful and everything, right Caleb?"

"I, ah— didn't think he'd believe us if we told him about you," Caleb said. "So, we had agreed beforehand to bring him here, in case of an emergency."

"He thought we were lying," Clay added.

"I suppose it is my story to tell," Essek said. "Earrings, Verin?"

"They're your favourite," Verin said stupidly and held them out to him.

His face grew soft. "Oh," he said as he took them gingerly, "I didn't know that you kne—"

Before he could overthink and do something stupid like stop himself, he surged forward and enveloped his brother in a tight hug. After a moment Essek closed his arms around him, too.

It seemed so unreal, to be able to hold him after mourning him for what felt like years. All the worries, all the grief and anger that had crushed him in the past few weeks and for what? For the bastard to still be alive after all. It wasn't fair. Why had he had to go through all of that? And why did he feel the pressing urge to start crying again? He should be happy, shouldn't he, that his brother wasn't dead. So why did it make him feel so awful?

"I think this is our cue to leave," Fjord said. Verin felt his brother nod and heard the Mighty Nein shuffle out of the kitchen, the door closing behind them with a creak.

Only then, Essek spoke up. "Verin," he asked quietly, "are you crying?"

"Shut up," he mumbled through the thick fog of tears and snot, definitely not crying. "I hate you, Essek. Do you know what I went through?"

"Meeting the Mighty Nein? Yes, I can imagine."

"They're horrible," he complained. "They're loud and they're rude and they had absolutely no respect for any of your belongings! I thought I was going mad."

"They are. They also are my friends, you know."

"How?" he asked agonised.

"I know they don't look like it, but they are surprisingly capable. And I am sure that you've noticed most of them to be annoyingly charming. But I think their absolute worst traits are their infinite stubbornness and perseverance. They quite literally did not leave me alone until they had befriended me."

Verin glanced up at him questioningly. "And were half in love with the wizard?" he guessed.

Essek scowled darkly, a faint blush colouring his cheeks. "Perhaps."

He snorted and disentangled himself from their embrace. Very calmly he said: "You're a liar."

Essek looked genuinely startled at that. "What?"

"You said, you trusted me more than him. Why then, did he know and I didn't?"

"It's... complicated," he said.

"You wizards say that a lot."

"Verin." Essek closed his eyes. "I trust you. Implicitly. And I care about you. Which is why I chose not to burden you with the knowledge of my misdeeds. I didn't— I didn't want to put you in an impossible situation to choose between me and our queen."

He laughed nervously. "What on earth are you talking about? I mean, you didn't commit treason or anything."

Essek didn't answer, avoiding eye-contact instead.

"Right?"

Still, Essek kept stubbornly quiet.

"Oh," Verin breathed. He took a moment trying to reconcile what he knew about his brother with the fact that he was apparently a traitor. It all fit together ridiculously easy. "The beacons."

Essek looked up at him in shock and he knew he had hit the mark. "What?"

"You stole the beacons." Now that he thought about it, it made perfect sense. Essek had been studying them at the time, one of the only people with frequent access to them. He had always been fascinated by them, yet his theories had been rejected for their heretic nature. As Shadowhand, he had also regular contact with counterparts from the Empire, albeit not officially. Then, a few years after Essek’s research had been denied, they had vanished. How had he never seen this before?

"Oh Essek...," he said softly.

"No, please— I don’t—Please don’t—” He seemed to deflate, curling in on himself. “I'm sorry. I shouldn't have told you, I—”

"I don't care,” Verin interrupted his frantic ramblings.

"What?" Essek looked up at him, looking just as shocked as Verin felt.

“I don’t care,” he repeated, realising that it was true the moment the words left his mouth. For how could he care about something as trivial as treason when Essek was sitting right in front of him, alive and well. "You're my brother, I don't care. Maybe tomorrow. Maybe in a year. Maybe in ten. Right now, I only care that you're alive."

“I—What—I don’t—” Essek stuttered, lifting and then lowering his hands a few times. “I don’t know how— If I can—Fuck.”

There was a joke on the tip of his tongue, but even he knew that this wasn’t the right time for it. Essek was obviously trying to tell him something and it took him a minute to decipher that strange behaviour. “Are you asking for a hug?” he hazarded a guess.

An agonised expression passed over his face and for a moment Verin thought there were tears gathering in his brother’s eyes. Surely not. “I don’t know if I may. I don’t mean to overstep—”

Without further ado, Verin stepped forward and gathered a yelping Essek up and squeezed him tightly. “Of course you may!” he assured him, awkwardly patting his shaking shoulders. “I love you, Essek. I am very glad that you’re alive.��

“I’m very glad to see you, too,” Essek answered and squeezed him a little tighter.

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artzee-bee · 3 years ago

Text

You love me? | Lucifer Morningstar x reader

Fandom: Lucifer (Netflix)

Request: “ I was wondering if I could make a request where the reader is Lucifers best friend and can always cheer him up. One day (maybe after something with his brother happens) he is really upset and no one can communicate with him so the reader comes over worried sick. I thought that maybe they could have a moment after but that’s entirely up to you if you would like to write this! If you are uncomfortable or you just don’t want to write this let me know! “

Genre: a good chuck on angst but fluffy ending

Warings: nothing besides some arguing

A/N: This turned out very differently than what I was initially going for but I hope it’s somewhat good

~~~

You were more than aware of how everyone saw Lucifer: eccentric, sarcastic, over the top, at times an insufferable ass. You couldn't exactly disagree with any of those, but somehow you and the handsome gentleman got to be an inseparable duo.

You met him at Lux while out with your friends. His good looks caught the eye of mostly everyone inside the club, you included. He was attractive but you were stubborn. You weren't going to go out of your way just to talk to him, no way! Plus, you weren't exactly looking for a relationship or anything like that, so what was the point? You were only there for the drinks and the dancing, except you ended up being quite disappointed in the drinks department. The barman was slow and alcohol was a lot more expensive than you were anticipating.

You were waiting for your drink when he approached you. He was trying to get away from a girl that was freaking him out. He made a comment about being “so irresistible” and you replied with a joke about the crappy alcohol. One thing led to another and before you knew it, you had been chatting with him for hours!! Your friends had gotten sick of waiting around for you to be done with your new pal, and left early, not that you minded much. You knew they were probably under the impression that you were trying to get in bed with him and they were mostly excited about how well it was going for you, so they weren’t mad and you were enjoying yourself.

After that night, you and Lucifer became more or less inseparable. Almost every night was now spent either at Lux or in his penthouse, chatting and drinking liquor. Lucifer would visit you at work every now and then, when a case he was working on would get on his nerves. He would sometimes drag you to the station to “keep him company”. You were, in other words, his moral support.

This position came with a lot of wild adventures and incredible stories, but also with a lot of difficulties. Lucifer wasn’t the easiest to talk to when his emotions got the best of him. He had a tendency to shut down and avoid real life at all costs. You’ve been with him through that many times before and you were convinced that there was nothing he could do to shock you anymore.

Late in the evening, you got a call from Mazikeen. She was fuming and screaming over the phone about how Lucifer was in a mood and he went off on her for no reason and that you better get to him and figure it out because she was over it. You’ve received many phone calls like this, so you weren’t alarmed but as soon as you entered the penthouse and saw the mess that was covering every square inch of the place, you began to question your judgement.

“Lucifer?” you asked but he didn’t reply. You called out to him a couple more times, until you finally found him tightly tucked in bed.

“Luci?”

“Yeah…” his voice was muffled by the blanket and his eyes were shut

“What’s going on?”

“Nothing at all darling, I was just going to sleep”

“It’s 8 pm”

“Yeah, well, tough day at the station today. Not easy solving crime, you know?” “Oh really?” you questioned, to which Lucifer nodded slightly “Funny thing, I talked to Decker not too long ago actually. She hasn’t seen you all day.” Lucifer’s eyes stayed shut

“Don’t lie to me Lucifer” finally, you got his attention. He stood up with an exhausted sigh and rested against the bed frame

“What happened?”

“It’s just...Amenadiel…”

“What about him?”

“Always so curious, aren’t we Y/N?” he got up from the bed and headed towards the bar in the main area with you following close behind

“I’m trying to help you” “I don’t recall ever asking for it” his tone was harsh, but you’ve heard worse from him

“That never stopped me before”

“It never does any good either and yet here you are”

“Yes it does, you always tell me I’m a huge help” Lucifer frowned at your words, knowing full well you were right. He poured himself a drink, choosing to stay silent “I can’t help you unless you tell me what’s bothering you”

“It’s a fight between brothers, just like many others we’ve had before and we’ll keep on having for the rest of eternity probably”

“You’re really bothered by it”

“I am not!” his tone was firm. For just a second his eyes flashed red.

“It’s ok to feel upset”

“I am not upset!” he screamed, his face all of a sudden red and hot. His devil face. Blood red eyes piercing your soul, a threatening smile displayed his sharp, yellow teeth . You’ve seen this side of him before. You could say you were even somewhat accustomed to it, except you've never seen him do this. Use it as a weapon against you. To threaten you, to push you away. That, more than anything, was what scared you. You’ve seen him so angry at times and yet not once did he change out of rage. You stepped back, almost tripping and falling back in the bed but Lucifer reached out and caught your hand. He held it softly, as if you were made of sand. As if you would slip from his grip any second

“Y/N?” when you looked back up to him, his face was back to normal “Y/N, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to, I mean, I didn’t realise I-”

“I’m just trying to be a good friend Lucifer”

“I know you are”

“I didn’t deserve that Lucifer” his eyes were full of sorrow and regret. You could see tears threatening to spill and you almost felt this man crumble in the palm of your hand. You pulled him into a tight hug and as soon as your arms went around his waist, Lucifer nuzzled his face in your hair and began to sob

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you, I didn’t mean to do that…”

“It’s ok Luci”

“You didn’t deserve that”

“Yes but you’ve apologised, I forgive you. Everything is ok” Lucifer pulled away slightly, just enough so he could look into your eyes without leaving your embrace. His face was red and stained with tears.

“How do you do that? How can you always forgive so easily?” he asked as you wiped away some of the tears with the sleeve of your shirt

“Well, with you it’s quite easy. I care too much about you to stay mad.” Lucifer rolled his eyes, as if he didn’t believe you “Plus, I know you. You are kind and caring and would never do anything to hurt me. You have a hard time managing your anger sometimes, sure, but you are working to improve.” You cupped his face with your left hand and Lucifer immediately leaned into your touch

“I’m doing my best.” he said

“And I’ll be here for you. No matter how much you dislike it sometimes!” you giggled, but than Lucifer whispered something in your palm

“I love you.”

“I love you too, Luci.”

“No, I love you Y/N” he took a step back as he said that, the closeness between you two suddenly too much to bear. You looked at him with glossy eyes, scanning his features as if you weren’t sure you heard him right and each look made Lucifer want to crawl back into the pits of hell because he was not worthy of you and he knew that.

“I’m sorry, it wasn’t the right moment, I should have just-”

“Lucifer” your voice was warm and welcoming which only made the devil feel worse. You were trying to reject him nicely, he just knew it!

“Yes?”

“You love me?” when he didn’t reply, you took a step closer, asking him again “Are you in love with me Lucifer?”

“Yes” he was crumbling once again under you. He was the devil and he’s known no weakness but somehow, someway, you managed to bring him to his knees with a single glance and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

“Did I get the devil to fall in love with me?”

“Perhaps..” you looked him in the eyes. You were once again standing close to him and Lucifer felt weak

“Good” you said, before grabbing onto the collar of his shirt and placing your lips on his, kissing him hard. Lucifer didn’t realise at first what you did, boldness wasn’t exactly your thing, but then, almost naturally, his arms went around your waist, pulling you into him. He felt his worries and tears fade away with every second that he felt your lips on his. He swore in that moment that no matter what, he would never ever push you away again. You were way too important!

#lucifer netflix #lucifer morningstar #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer morningstar imagine #lucifer morningstar angst #lucifer morningstar fluff

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neonlights92 · 4 years ago

Text

RUN: Chapter III

Jeon Jungkook hops from bed to bed, sleeping with as many beautiful, rich women as he can possibly find time for. He’s young and attractive, with a silver tongue that gets him practically anything he wants. So when his friend and boss, Kim Taehyung, tells him it’s time to settle down, Jungkook takes it pretty badly. And when he finds out that the woman he’s destined to marry is, in fact, his little sister’s best friend, he is less than impressed.

You have spent your entire life trying to forget the way you feel about Jeon Jungkook. So when you find out that Jungkook is to be your husband - and that he is anything but pleased about it - your world is thrown into chaos. How can you survive a loveless marriage with the man you are hopelessly in love with?

WARNINGS: Language, some violence and smut.

A/N:ENJOY!!!!

Jungkook shone. He really, really did.

You watched him from across the room - the way he drew people in like a magnet. He was stunning.

You knew he could tell you were watching him. The way his eyes flickered to yours, and the side of his mouth pulled up slightly.

Perhaps he enjoyed the power he had over you. After all, you were his wife. It was only normal that he wanted you to be attracted to him… Wasn’t it?

You couldn’t ponder on that thought. Couldn’t let yourself think about Jungkook wanting you to love him. It was too much - too overwhelming.

You turned from him quickly, grabbing a flute of champagne and downing it in almost one gulp. You cringed at the unfamiliar taste - and the burn at back of your throat - but you needed a distraction. From your husband, of all people.

Your life really was ridiculous.

“Y/N?”

You turned quickly, snapped out of your reverie by the sound of your name.

Kim Namjoon stared back at you, a small smile on his face.

“Namjoon,” You relaxed a little, lips splitting into a smile of your own, “Hi. How are you?”

“I’m fine,” He gestured at the champagne flute in your hands, “You’re going to snap that.”

You looked down noticing your grip was like a vice and gasped.

“Shit.” You loosened your fingers and blushed, “That would’ve been embarrassing.”

He gave you a sympathetic look, “Tough week?”

You groaned, setting the glass to one side and shaking your head, “Tough month.”

Namjoon and you were fairly close. The two of you had grown up together - along with Nayeon and Jungkook - and you felt you could genuinely trust him. He was the only member of the Special Seven - apart from Jungkook of course - that you felt you had a real friendship with.

Namjoon was different to other made men.

He was intelligent and grounded. He didn’t act on impulse or throw himself into situations he couldn’t handle.

Namjoon was like the centre of gravity that Bangtan desperately needed.

You liked that about him.

“It’s not your doting husband, is it?” He asked, raising a sarcastic brow.

You assumed he knew the truth about your marriage - even down to the fact Jungkook had no romantic feelings towards you. The two of them were close - brothers, really - and you imagined they shared everything with one another.

“It’s not his fault,” You answered, though you weren’t sure you totally believed it, “We were both… Forced into this.”

“But you love him.” The words weren’t questioning - they were a statement. Namjoon always was so intuitive.

“How did you - I mean… What are you talking about?” He scoffed and rolled his eyes, “Anybody with eyes can tell you love him Y/N - that you have loved him for years.”

Something inside you twinged.

It wasn’t that you cared that other people knew. You didn’t. Love wasn’t something to be ashamed of.

It was just…. Well Jungkook knowing that other people knew.

Would he care?

And at this point… Did it even really matter?

“It’s not his fault he doesn’t feel the same way,” You said eventually, deciding it wasn’t even worth it to deny Namjoon’s accusations, “That’s just life.” “Jungkook is an idiot,” Namjoon wrinkled his nose, “He wouldn’t know love or commitment if it whacked him in the fucking face. He’s spent his entire life dropping women’s panties and not sticking around to get to know them. He thinks he’s incapable of anything more.”

You raised a brow, “I think he just doesn’t want anything more.”

“Bullshit,” Namjoon shook his head, “He doesn’t know what he wants.”

“And you do?” You replied, smiling a little at the way Namjoon’s brow furrowed into a frown.

He seemed genuinely annoyed at your husband’s behaviour.

“I know he’s too much of a pussy to even open himself up to the idea of being with you for real,” He shrugged, hands reaching for his pockets, “Even told him so myself.” “Really? And what did he say? I’m sure that went down a treat…”

“Told me to fuck off of course. But what else did I expect from the ever eloquent Jeon Jungkook?” You laughed at that and so did Namjoon, shaking his head at his younger friend’s apparent stupidity, “Honestly. I know Jungkook. And I know that deep down inside, all he really wants is to be loved, Y/N. And I think you could help him realise that.”

His words warmed you down to the tips of your toes.

“You think so?”

When he nodded, you felt something in your chest expand and lighten.

For the first time since you’d found out about your engagement, you felt a little better about things.

If Namjoon thought Jungkook had the capability to come around.. Then maybe things weren’t so bleak.

You placed a hand on his shoulder and smiled warmly, “Thank you. For speaking to me. It really has helped.” “Just being honest,” He shrugged, “Thought you deserved to know my opinion, I guess.”

“You always have been the smartest Bangtan boy.”

A throat cleared from somewhere to your life and you both turned to look, lips lifting unconsciously into a smile at the sight of your husband. But Jungkook wasn’t smiling. In fact, his mouth was pulled taut into a firm line.

And he was… Glaring at Namjoon.

“What are you two talking about?” Jungkook asked, hard eyes turning on you.

You felt a little intimidated by the way his gaze seemed to sear straight through you.

“Just catching up, Jungkookie.” You watched your husband cringe at the nickname that rolled off Namjoon's tongue, “Don’t keep her locked away for so long again.”

“I’ll try not to Joonie.” His eyes were still pitch black, “You ready to go, Y/N? I’m getting tired.”

You arched a brow at his odd behaviour.

If you didn’t know any better you would think he was jealous.

But there was absolutely no way Jungkook would feel jealous or possessive over you… Was there?

“Okay.” You nodded swiftly and turned to Namjoon, “It was nice speaking to you Joon. I hope we can catch up again soon.” His eyes were soft and he smiled, “You can count on that.”

You didn’t even realise Jungkook’s hand had slipped into yours until he was pulling you away from the crowd almost roughly. Namjoon gave you a little wave and a knowing wink, and you shook your head, confused by your husband’s sudden shift in behaviour.

There was no way he was actually jealous, was there?

Not after knowing the way you felt about him.

Not after pushing you away himself and making it clear he wasn’t interested in a real marriage.

No. You shook your head.

He must just be tired, like he’d said.

When the two of you made your way outside, you finally tugged your husband’s hand and forced him to look at you.

“What?” The word was sharp and angry.

You flinched, “Are you… Okay?”

“Just peachy. Enjoyed your little chat with Namjoon?”

You followed him down the marble staircase, towards the garage.

“Wait. Is that why you’re acting like this?” You were speaking to Jungkook’s back - why was he walking so damn fast? - as you struggled to keep up, “Because I was talking to Namjoon?”

Your husband decided not to answer as he grabbed the keys wordlessly from the valet and continued making his way towards the car. You trailed after him, feeling dejected and hurt by his sudden sourly attitude.

What right did he have to be angry at you when all you had been doing was talking to a friend?

“Jungkook!”

His name flew out of you angrily, just as the two of you reached the car.

He froze for a moment, and then turned, eyes hard like two glass balls of obsidian black.

You finally caught up with him, confused and hurt at the way he was treating you. It made absolutely no sense.

“Why are you mad at me?” “I’m not mad.” You rolled your eyes, “Obviously you are. I’m not stupid. So why are you mad?” “I’m not mad,” He answered unlocking the car and - despite his apparent fury - opening the passenger door for you, “I just find it sweet that you and Namjoon seem to get on so well.”

He slammed his own car door shut and your fingers twitched as you clicked in your seatbelt.

“You’re being stupid.” He turned to you again, his eyes wide, “Sorry what? This coming from the woman that basically pissed on me in front of Jihyo to mark her territory?” Ok. Now you were mad.

“How the fuck can you even compare the two?” You couldn’t believe how irrational he was being, “She was literally all over you.” “So was Namjoon!”

“Oh my god.” You tugged a hand through your hair, “You’re an idiot.” “I’m an idiot am I? For finding it uncomfortable that my wife and my best friend spent the evening flirting right in front of me?” “Why do you even care?” Your eyes were watering with angry tears but you bit them back, “You made it very clear that you aren’t interested in making this marriage work the way I want it to. So what does it matter if I flirt with Namjoon?” You knew maybe your words weren’t the wisest. Perhaps you should’ve assured him that the reality was all you’d spoken to Namjoon about was how much you loved your oblivious husband.

But he’d hurt you. You sort of wanted to hurt him back.

“Right,” He seethed, “So it’s not alright for me to have an affair, but totally fine for you to?”

Your heart clenched.

“Oh my god. Oh MY GOD. Jungkook what the fuck? We were talking about you for god’s sake. Okay?!” You pinched the bridge of your nose and felt the tears catch on the edge of your fingers, “What the hell? Why would I ever cheat on you? Not only am I completely in love with you but Namjoon is your best friend! Jesus.”

The words were like lava spilling from your mouth, hardening everything they touched.

You couldn’t take it back. It was all out there in the open.

Completely in love with you, you’d said.

Shit.

You squeezed your eyes shut, counting to ten. Waiting for something. Anything.

After a moment, your husband cleared his throat.

“I’m sorry.”

Your pulse jumped.

“What?” You opened your eyes and when you looked at Jungkook, he was already regarding you with something… Different. It wasn’t the same affection he usually regarded you with. It was… Deeper. You didn’t know what it was.

But it sort of scared you. In a good way.

“I said I’m sorry. You’re right. I don’t… I don’t know what came over me.” He shook his head and tugged a hand through his hair, “I was...Jealous.”

The word fell like a stone between the two of you.

“What?” Your voice was like the wind, almost, “Why would you be jealous?” He smiled - small and gently - and shrugged, “You’re my wife. That means something, doesn’t it? So I don’t - I wasn’t thinking straight. I reacted badly. Forgive me.”

Your heart felt like it was going to fall out of your chest.

“So it was a possessive thing,” You answered, licking your bottom lip. Your husband’s eyes flickered to your mouth, “You wanted to stake your claim on me.”

He shook his head, “No. It was more than that.” He clicked his tongue, “I was jealous that you weren’t with me. He made you laugh. I hated that.”

Now you were sure you must be dreaming.

There was no way your husband was saying these things.

You tucked your lip between your teeth, “What does that mean?” He shook his head, eyes searching your face before they fell on your mouth again.

“I don’t know.”

He leaned in slightly and you held your breath.

“Are you going to kiss me?” You whispered - nerves wracking through your body hotly.

It felt like the world stood still for a moment. And then Jungkook’s eyes softened like butter. “Yeah. I am. If that’s okay?”

You nodded stiffly. And then he kissed you.

Your body hummed to life at the contact eyes falling closed immediately as you allowed your husband to bundle you up in his arms. It was uncomfortable of course - cramped in the front seat of the car - but Junkook picked you up and pulled you towards him, anyway.

You giggled as your dress caught on the gear shift, and your husband laughed, pressing his forward to yours, settling you into his lap.

“You look beautiful,” He told you honestly, eyes earnest, “Did I tell you that already?” You shook your head - breathless and hot all over.

Jungkook - your Jungkook - was kissing you.

He was kissing you. And he seemed to be really enjoying himself.

“Well you do,” He said decidedly, pressing his lips to your collarbone as he pushed the strap of your dress further down your arm, “You look beautiful.” Your heart caught in your chest, and it felt almost like you were on fire.

Everything Jungkook’s lips touched tingled, and even though you knew this was actually happening, it still felt like some kind of vivid dream.

“Thank you,” You whispered breathlessly, not knowing what else to say.

Jungkook smiled softly at your words, his mouth moving towards your collarbone and pressing kisses against the skin there.

“I love these freckles,” He groaned, tracing the dots with the tip of his nose, “So cute.” Your heart flipped and you sighed, “Thank you.”

He pulled away a little and pressed his forward to yours, chuckling softly.

“That’s all you have to say?”

You felt dazed as you stared back at him, “Huh?”

“Thank you,” He whispered, pressing a kiss to your brow, “It’s all you have to say, it seems.”

“I’m a little…” You cleared your throat and felt a shiver crawl up your spine as Jungkook tucked some hair behind your ear, “Lost for words.”

Your husband smiled - self-satisfied and a little proud, “C’mere.”

He leaned towards you and once again you were swept up by his kisses. It felt as though you were spinning out of axis - but it was so good. Nothing had ever come close to this and you told yourself that if this was it - if this was the only time Jungkook was going to kiss you - then you were going to make it count.

You brought your shaky hands up to his chest, intending to push his jacket off his shoulders, but losing your nerve along the way. Instead you tightened your grip on the material of his blazer. You felt him smirk against your lips.

“Want me to take it off?” He asked, after a moment, pulling away so he could search your face for an answer.

You expected him to be cocky - smug - but instead his gaze was just questioning. Your heart twisted.

“Yeah,” You nodded furiously, “Please.”

He smiled again, and did as you’d told him to, removing the jacket and throwing it somewhere to your left. You continued kissing him with fervor - making up for your lack of experience with enthusiasm - and after a while you felt his lips venture towards your throat…

And then lower to the valley of your breasts.

And - for some reason unbeknownst to you - you froze.

Jungkook took that as a cue to stop and pulled away, a dark brow arched.

“Sorry.” His hair was all out of place, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to-”

“No, I liked it.” You assured him, feeling your heartbeat pulling out of your chest, “I just… This is my first time doing anything like…. This.”

“Right.” He still seemed unconvinced.

“But I’m enjoying myself. I was enjoying myself. All of it.”

Jungkook’s eyes were warmer than you’d ever seen them. He pushed your hair out of your face and bit his bottom lip.

“We should probably stop anyway.”

Your heart fell.

“Oh.”

“We’re in the front seat of a car - anybody could walk by,” He added on, eyes following your expression carefully, “Not exactly a good idea.”

“Okay,” You nodded, suddenly realising the position you were in.

Jungkook had pushed the straps of your dress down your arm - exposing more of your cleavage than you probably were comfortable showing in public - your hair was a mess, your lips were puffy and your make up was probably all smudged.

You made to climb off your husband’s lap, before Jungkook grabbed the back of your head gently. He forced you to look at him.

“I was enjoying myself, too. For the record.”

And then he kissed you again, once, soundly - on the mouth.

God.

You really did love him.

The days after your tryst in the car were filled with uncertainty.

Jungkook had driven the both of you home in almost complete silence - save for the murmuring of the radio - and when you climbed into bed that night, the only thing he offered you was an arm to cuddle into.

You’d taken it of course - gladly - and every night since then the two of you moved towards one another as soon as the bedside lamp clicked off.

But it wasn’t enough for you.

And apart from night time snuggling - nothing much had changed about your relationship.

But after having felt Jungkook’s lips on your own - felt the way his kisses seared straight through you - you wanted that feeling again. And despite what he’d said about enjoying himself… You wondered if maybe that was just to spare your feelings.

Perhaps he’d realised all at once how little he was attracted to you.

Maybe that’s why he hadn’t made a move since.

The thought caused your throat to clog up, and your heart to clench, so you pushed it all back down, trying not to think about it.

Instead you found another pet project - this one a pair of dark blue jeans that Jungkook had ripped a hole through. You’d heard him complaining to his butler, Minhyuk, about how they were his favourite pair, and you wanted to fix them for him.

You sat in the same armchair you always did - tucked into the corner of the master bedroom - and listened to the radio mumbling gently in the background. It was some stupid cheesy love song, but still the lyrics caused the same feelings you tried so very hard to push back down, to bubble up.

A figure in the doorway paused your actions and you looked up.

It was your husband. His eyes were unreadable.

“Jungkook,” You smiled softly, “Hi.”

You couldn’t hide your content at seeing him - could never hide how happy he made you - and you resigned yourself to stop trying.

He didn’t say a word. Instead he walked over to you carefully and fingered the material of the jeans.

“Oh.” You laughed gently, “I just heard you talking about them the other day. Thought I could pull my weight around here.”

Your movements had stopped, but Jungkook’s big hand came to rest over your own.

He bent down so that his face was level with yours.

“You didn’t have to do that.” His eyes were like two balls of fire now, melting you from the inside out.

You felt your bottom lip tremble, “I know.”

And then his mouth was on yours. He took the jeans out of your hand and set them to one side, grabbing you by the waist and hoisting you up as if you weighed nothing at all.

You giggled a little, and when Jungkook pulled away to watch you laugh, he couldn’t help the chuckle that slipped out.

“You’re so…” He didn’t finish the sentence, instead leading you over to the bed and laying you down.

His eyes were questioning as he played with the hem of your t-shirt, and without a second thought you lifted your arms, letting him pull it over your head. It was embarrassing of course.

The first time Jungkook would see you in underwear and you were wearing the most unflattering beige bra. But he didn’t seem to mind.

He helped you unhook the bra, and when your hands came to cover your breasts, he stopped you.

“Let me see them. Please.” His eyes were hot and you felt like you were suffocating almost.

You nodded wordlessly and pulled your arms down, watching as Jungkook took in your naked torso.

“Fuck. So beautiful.” He whispered, leaning down and pressing his mouth against your breasts.

You arched against him, feeling as though you were going to explode just from that one touch, and Jungkook smiled, “So sensitive, too.”

His lips moved to your nipple, and he sucked gently, watching you attentively. His body was completely taut - waiting for your reactions - and when you moaned wantonly he smirked.

“Fuck,” You whispered and your husband clicked his tongue teasingly.

“Such profanity.” He smirked and tugged your trousers down slowly, “Guess we’ll have to clean your mouth out with soap, Angel.” The nickname was like a surge of warmth, straight to your core. He’d barely touched you and already you were panting like you could no longer take it.

“Please Jungkook,” You begged, not even knowing what you were begging for, “Please.” “Alright, shhh, shhh. I’ll give you what you want baby,” His lips played with the hem of your panties, and after a moment he pulled those down too, “C’mere.” And then his mouth was on you and it felt like time itself had stood still. You arched your back almost completely off the bed - and if it wasn’t for Jungkook’s steadying hands on your thighs you might have melted to the ground right then.

He licked at you diligently, and you found yourself winding tighter and tighter like a coil about to break from the pressure.

“Oh god… Oh god…”

His eyes bore straight through yours, and you felt like you might pass out from the intensity.

“That’s it,” He whispered, removing his mouth and using his hands instead, “Cum for me Angel.”

And finally, a wave of indescribable pleasure washed over you. It was so strong you thought you might shatter into a thousand pieces.

Jungkook coaxed you through your climax, and when you finally came down from your high - your bones like jelly - he climbed up your body and pressed a kiss to your lips.

“A thank you,” He smiled boyishly, “For the jeans.”

Your eyes were round and wide as you stared up at him, “But don’t you want-”

“Nope. Don’t need it.”

Jungkook pulled you under the covers, wrapping an arm around your waist and bringing you towards his chest.

“But Jungkook-”

“Sleep Angel.” A soft kiss was pressed to your forehead, “We’ve got plenty of time for everything else.”

And in that heart-wrenching moment you realised that Jeon Jungkook not only owned your heart - he owned your body, mind and soul too.

“Okay,” You whispered, pressing a kiss against the firm plane of his chest, “Goodnight.”

That night, you slept like a baby.

#jeon jungkook #bts #kookie #jungkook #fanfic #smut #angst #fluff #mafia au #alternatue universe #romance #fanfiction #bangtan #arranged marriage #one sided love #unreciprocated love

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leviiattacks · 4 years ago

Text

Boxer Levi & Coach Reader

author note :: i lost the ask for this, but this is not good at all. quite literally the worst thing i have ever written /srs anyways,,,,, anon said they wanted me to post it no matter what so i hope you do enjoy whatever this is,,, the pacing is non-existent and it has not been edited 👍🏼

requests are always open :-) i promise i am usually better than this,, anyway i may just use this as a rough outline for a fic 🤔

word count :: 5.4k....... yeah......

you and levi become acquainted with each other in university. it’s all very cliche if you do say so yourself. he steps in playing the role of good samaritan heroically saving your wallet and wordlessly he hands it to you even after running for the thief. the man doesn’t do as much as pant in exhaustion.

his stamina is…never mind that, his reflexes are out of this world

he expects a thank you because anyone else would expect at least a token of gratitude shown via words but the sentence you want to ask only ends up trapping itself in your throat

it comes to the point where he nods understanding maybe you have a sore throat or just don’t want to thank him at all

eyes flicking to his hands you immediately lunge forward taking your chance.

almost immediately you feel regret for holding onto the wrist of a complete and utter stranger without permission

“your stamina it’s great!” the man turns to you, he isn’t smiling but he’s definitely intrigued by the sudden change in behavior

and that’s where it all begins

levi’s horrible at getting to know strangers, even worse at forming bonds and connections. maybe that’s why he doesn’t warm up to the idea of having to deal with new people and new settings all at once

“i hope you’ve met your coach this is aman-” introductions are cut short by levi stubbornly interjecting in the middle of your sentence

“i have, but is she you?”

pursing your lips an awkward chuckle leaves your mouth, you look around uncomfortably wondering what he means.

“well, no?”

“then i won’t box.”

?????

you don’t even know what to say??? here you were thinking maybe he would be a little more cooperative than this.

his index finger points right at you and he takes a step forwards. his shoes come into contact with yours and you find yourself holding your breath apprehensively.

“i won’t box unless it’s you in charge.”

that is when you and levi formally meet for the first time. you are but an inexperienced coach and he, an inexperienced boxer.

“i’m getting drinks you want anything?”

“oh no don’t worry i’m good!!” you smile at levi and he nods his head venturing off to buy himself a bottle of sparkling water

levi has had you coaching him for a few years now

really he doesn’t think he’s ever felt more than respect for you. respect for the way you stay back late with him to train, respect for the schedules you make him and he’s most definitely respectful of your boxing knowledge

sure out of the two of you he’s more physically capable but it doesn’t change the fact that he becomes frustrated when he’s told he has to spend a day without you.

it’s not like you think that levi cares or anything, nothing sappy like that.

he just probably hates, no, despises having to listen to anyone else’s instructions. he finds that they somehow sound demeaning or less sincere.

every instruction you give him has a reason behind it. you don’t beat around the bush and he’s stated before that he enjoys that he knows he’s developing his skill set and progressing when he’s with you.

the olympus ring - one of the largest boxing competitions known to man is approaching soon and if levi manages to place in the top two his career is set to sky rocket in no time at all

that thought makes you feel unusually nervous

worry gnaws at your mind and you wonder about whether or not he’ll replace you after the competition concludes. after all who wants a coach with little fighting experience? all you really know is from your family. your brother and father had been professional boxers years prior.

you have no doubt at all that levi will place number one that’s for sure but you really hope he doesn’t find a replacement for you.

you’ve never had much faith in your coaching and to be left behind in the dust hurts you a tiny bit but you never bring it up because you know what? levi progressing in his career will make him happy :-)

levi’s happiness over yours and it’s not good to be selfish you suppose >:(

“y/n.” he’s waving a hand in front of your face, you’re uncharacteristically quiet today and he’s caught on

“you awake?” he asks again.

upon receiving no response levi’s now waving his hand with more tenacity

“wake. up.” he flicks at your forehead and you stir a little finally coming to your senses once you see him leaning up above you.

he looks taller than normal from this angle and your cheeks blaze, he has a habit of walking around shirtless whilst training and doesn’t realise the effect it has on you

“i- yeah good totally good. just thinking.”

“thinking about?” levi kneels to the floor looking you in the eyes and your mind falters wondering when it was he began to sit so close to you. it feels like it was just yesterday when the two of you used to eat lunch separately out of embarrassment.

the silence stretches for a second too long and his eyes narrow suspiciously leaving you to think on your feet

“i well, you have a press conference soon and i have to think of transportation and-”

“coach. i can deal with that.”

you’re a little stunned when he says that because he’s never tried to take away from your responsibilities in the past. is this a hint that he no longer wants you around?

“but it’s my job?” you reply back feeling threatened

“but you’re always doing it. i can figure it out this once.”

without even hearing the rest of what you have to say he stalks back towards his punching bag leaving your chest empty

he’s definitely thinking of replacing you is what you think

really this should not be getting you worked up.

you’ve known levi for years, you should have faith in the fact he trusts you but you find yourself indulging in self doubt more often than you intend to

guilt fills you as you scroll through the multiple job listings in front of you but you have a justification. this is your lifeline, you can’t afford to lose your source of income and it’s best to be prepared

however there’s no real amount of preparation that can get you used to the prospect of not seeing levi every day

he’s sort of just made a space for himself in your daily routine

chewing at your bottom lip you can’t get through one job listing without thinking about him and you shut your laptop down thinking tomorrow will be a better day and you’ll check back in then

why does levi even matter?? he’ll officially be an ass when he dumps you of your position?? who cares about him???

but that doesn’t stop you from caring and now you’re hunched over your closed laptop trying to understand what it is that’s making you feel this way

maybe it’s the whole attachment you have with him??

he is the very first person you’ve ever coached that’s true

he’s made you proud and allowed for your name to get out there in the boxing world

maybe that’s what’s holding you back from looking into other jobs

but that reason doesn’t make much sense

you should still be frustrated with him.

AND

you most definitely should not care about how he’s doing OR worry about who’ll patch him up when he ends up stupidly injuring himself during practice (he does that a lot)

“why do i care so much for him?” you type into google thinking there’s no person on this earth that can help you with this predicament now

honestly at this point asking AI is probably going to have to be your only reliable option

tapping on one of the first links you hope to find your answer

“what happened? yeah, you had sex?” pops onto your screen and you tap off as quick as possible.

no. you did not have sex. oh god, you haven’t even touched levi much. the most you’ve done is lace your fingers with his and offer him a hug

are you meant to have… had sex???

is it wrong for you to feel that way withou-

okay enough. this has got nothing to do with sex and your feelings are still valid. maybe you are right and you’re attached to him that’s it!!! right?

scrolling further down you nearly give up until you reach another link titled “the science of caring for those who don’t care for you.”

rolling your eyes you still hesitantly tap praying you find some sort of answer

and an answer is what you find that’s for sure

staring you right in the face in bold letters

1. you feel responsible for that person

not really, he’s very independent.

2. the person is a family member

absolutely not

3. you could be romantically attracted to the person in question

…….

romantically interested?? no. that’s wrong. not true. incorrect. not right. just not real. you are not romantically attracted to levi

,,,or are you?

that does explain why he makes you feel jittery, it explains why you shivered the one time he engulfed you in a hug at his first championship

it also explains why you feel burning jealousy when a celebrity shoves their number into your hands asking you to pass it onto levi. they don’t even look at you like you’re a human being. you’re just a messenger pigeon

they’re worlds away from you. you forever stuck in your tracksuit and them - those beautiful models in skintight dresses and heels to match are stuck in a world where everything they want is handed to them. that includes men

you know it’s not their fault and you’d kill to be like them too but you guess the whole sweaty tracksuits and boxing daily has just become your niche

nonetheless levi is a man. a popular man.

and he sure as hell has no romantic interest in his clumsy, uncoordinated coach

sighing you huddle yourself into a ball choosing not to think about it anymore

but you know you’ve already come to your conclusion

you like levi ackerman more than a coach should

and it’s taken you years to take notice of it

when you became a coach you never really thought people would talk about you much

you were clearly very wrong about that. you and levi are both hot topics on discussion forums and boxing panels. luckily for you levi finds no entertainment in such forms of boxing and so never glances at them

he’s completely unaware of all the online comments. to be honest you’re happy he’s oblivious to it all. he doesn’t deserve to deal with spiteful, mean spirited jabs

you’re less like levi and find yourself aimlessly scrolling through news articles and boxing q&a pages. it’s interesting to see what people have to say on social media

but these days all the searches for your name are filled with “replaced soon?” and “not good enough to coach ackerman?”

the headlines are cruel jokes but again you’re willing to handle taking the brunt of the press’ force instead of levi. yes, even if it hurts you.

“what you reading?” levi peers over your shoulder and you nearly throw your phone away to the other side of the room but instead you choose to grip at it tightly and shove it into your chest

you grin hiding the screen away. “something private.”

levi doesn’t look like he believes you, he wants to ask if you’re okay and if you need anything because frankly you do look slightly distraught but he decides against interrogating you

“oh okay. i’ll be back. you want anything from starbucks?” he asks.

at that moment you wish he asked you if you wanted to talk about what had been bothering you

but you know even if he did ask you’d deny his help

the olympus ring’s official press conference is one in which many rivalries will be established

levi has always had an issue with zeke jaeger one of the top contenders in his division.

it’s a long story......

one which includes the purposeful injury of a mutual friend in order to sabotage his career

you remember it all, the way you had to physically hold levi back from pouncing at the man. it had been one of the most difficult things you had to do

erwin was your friend too and you wanted him to receive justice. part of you wanted to let go and allow for levi to attack zeke with his all but you chose to be levi’s coach before you were erwin’s friends

if he wasn’t going to make good decisions for himself you would do it for him

if you had let him go through with that rash choice he could have risked suspension and suspension could completely halt some careers. suspension almost always led to shorter longevity and motivation

and so that’s why you always shift to levi’s side when he walks past zeke. there’s no way you’re taking a chance. knowing levi he could lose his cool and completely pummel him with an upper cut

so that’s what you’re doing right now. trying to edge levi to the other side of the hall but he does no such thing.

“coach, do you have to be so cautious with zeke?” he finally asks with a bland look on his face

you wince a little when he doesn’t use your name and it looks like he notices the reaction. he makes no commentary on it

“this is my job. let me do it properly.” you explain nudging him to the side so your path doesn’t coincide with zeke’s

levi looks at you poking a tongue in his cheek clearly not amused nor happy

“i’ll do what i want.” and with that said and done he walks on ahead. you take note of the fact that despite saying he’ll do what he wants he does in fact comply with your instructions and walks in the opposite direction and into a nearby convenience store

sighing you rummage through your backpack trying to find your meds

your head has been pounding since you’ve arrived and you hope to fit in at least one nap

looking up to survey the area the street is clear and there is no sight of zeke. you feel at ease at that discovery, not only does he cause you discomfort but he’s a general displeasure to interact with

his tuft of dirty blonde hair irks you to no end and you’re up for no conversation with the man who who ended erwin’s career

he’s the last person you want to ever initiate small talk with.

but fate is a weird thing is it not? because as soon as you’re sure you’ve escaped the clutches of zeke jaeger you hear a chuckle behind you

“well if it isn’t levi’s side piece?”

a hand lands on your shoulder but you shake it away immediately

jaw clenching you try to ignore zeke as best you can but he continues to taunt you

“imagine if levi got an actual coach and not a whore to fuck in the gym?”

turning to face him you see him midway through shrugging his shoulders

believe it or not there had been a time where you and zeke were good friends. a time where he hadn’t let fame get to his head.

so for him to refer to you like that does make your heart sting a little

“cat got your tong-”

and there it is

the long overdue punch

it hits him right in the jaw without warning and you’re tripping trying to stop levi - who might you add has shown up from NOWHERE.

you thought he was shopping?????

“you know if i needed to swing at him i could have?!?” you whisper shout at him completely infuriated that he’s possibly thrown away his chance of competing

“you weren’t going to though.” he says plainly and you can’t deny it.

you don’t have it in you to swing at zeke.

levi doesn’t choose to inflict more pain on his opponent and instead kneels beside him leaning by his ear

you don’t know what he whispers - you’re completely out of ear shot but it’s not even thirty seconds later till levi rises and saunters away seeming content

shooting zeke an apologetic look for the over the top beating you’re surprised to see him look...regretful?

whatever levi said you wonder what it was

it’s been a solid fifteen minutes of you walking behind levi

his back is all you’ve seen so you have no idea about his mood and it’s not that you’re intimidated or anything but peering in just to look at his face is a little odd so you choose to stay a suitable distance away

“y/n.” he says finally when he reaches his hotel room.

fishing through your backpack for his keys you’re surprised when he holds your wrist to stop you

“listen to me.” he sounds calm but slightly on edge

“has zeke always said those things?”

twiddling your thumbs you awkwardly laugh

“well no, we used to be friends. remember how i told you ages ago? he was so cool back then and yeah i miss that zeke :-) but i don’t know what’s up with him.”

you’ve never really told anyone about how you feel about zeke’s hostility so you’re getting KINDA emotional right now thinking about the friend you miss

“i mean to ask, since you started coaching me has he always said that?”

“it was a bit before that but yeah. it’s no big deal at all. people change, zeke changed. i can’t do anything about it.”

moving to find his room keys again you don’t expect for him to hold his grasp

looking up at him there’s a look of simmering anger on his face

“why did you never tell me he said that about you?”

running a hand through your hair you’re only getting anxious having to deal with this in the middle of a hotel hallway

“levi. everyone says that about me. me and you are always together, all sorts of stupid rumours spread.”

“so why do you have to deal with all the malicious comments?? it’s unfa-”

“levi, the world has never been fair.”

handing him his keys he looks between you and them. he’s deciding if he wants to continue with his questioning

ultimately he decides he’s heard enough

a few hours have passed since the incident. neither you or levi have had the courage to come out of your separate rooms to discuss anything

you know you’re going to have to break the quiet and go through his possible press conference questions with him. even if you don’t want to this is your job after all.

so that’s how you end up sitting cross legged on his bed in your pyjamas. levi’s still in the shower so you’ve welcomed your self in. it’s common practice between the two of you to do so

after the one time he walked in on you naked…there’s practically nothing to hide from each other

scribbling a few ideas down onto your notepad you’re curious of what the press have in store for him this time

“yes exactly my thoughts” the sound of levi’s voice is coming from the bathroom, you suppose he’s had to take a business call and think nothing of it

“y/n?” he scoffs and you assume at first he’s calling out for you but then things take a turn for the worst

“sometimes i think about not having y/n coach me that’s all… there’s nothing wrong with that?”

oh.

so your suspicions were correct.

glancing down at the interview questions in your lap you jot down a note at the bottom

hey couldn’t stay for long but try to review the press conference questions on your own if you have the time! :-) much lov good luck, y/n !!!!

and then you retreat.

you don’t know if you make it up but you swear you hear knocking at your door during the night. you aren’t too sure but whatever it is disturbs your sleep.

stretching outside of your room the next morning you’re drowsy and beyond exhausted. you don’t even notice levi come outside.

one of his knuckles is rubbing at his bloodshot eyes. has he not slept well?

“i tried to wake you up but i guess you were asleep?” his statement comes out as a question. you’re not used to levi exhibiting much emotion at all and right now he seems unusually inquisitive.

“i was sleeping.” not even sparing him a second of your time you give him a rehearsed smile and walk off towards the hotel cafe

you can’t find the energy to even look at him

the hall is lined up with barricades to prevent possible assault or injury and you’re behind the stage with levi

the two of you have yet to say another word to each other since this morning. levi’s buttoning his shirt up and you’re looking around for his necktie. the least he can do after yesterday’s confrontation with zeke is to look presentable

“tie?” he asks over his shoulder

throwing it at him you hear a grunt of annoyance. he must have disliked that.

“can you help me with my cuff links?”

breathing out of your nose you feel anxious. you’ll have to get really close to him to do that.

but again you have to.

you take them from his hands and stand in front of him. you don’t really know how to go about this, what way is there for you to appropriately position yourself?

he’s sat on a backstage bench and checks the time on his phone “we’ve only got a few minutes left.” he’s clearly requesting that you hurry this up but you can’t seem to do it you’re completely frozen in place

“y/n, what’s wrong?” he asks

“nothing.”

he doesn’t have to know you know

“something’s wrong.”

“we’re in a hurry it doesn’t matter.” yanking him by his right sleeve you slot one of the cuff links through the slits in his shirt.

levi silently observes you fiddling with his sleeves, you can feel his stare burn into you. even as you’re moving onto the opposite side you can see from the corner of your eye that he hasn’t stopped staring

“was it something i said to you?” he asks again

a silence drags between the both of you and you debate on whether or not you’d like to enlighten levi with the information you obtained yesterday night

“more like something you didn’t say.” you finally respond.

thrusting his arm back at him his hand lands onto his lap and he opens his mouth to respond only to be cut off by an announcer

“THIS YEARS OLYMPUS RING CONTESTANTS MAY ENTER.”

crowds can be heard cheering outside but levi still hasn’t ripped his eyes off of you

“go on, maybe you’ll find a new coach after the press conference.” your bitter smile tells him all he has to know and his face visibly drops realizing what has happened

“i–”

“mr ackerman to the stage. i repeat mr ackerman to the stage!!”

he’s torn between staying behind and explaining himself or leaving to head towards one of the most important press conferences of his life

his teeth tug at his bottom lip as he looks between you and the entrance to the stage

“go levi.”

and he does.

levi’s sat on one of many chairs on the panel, he gulps taking a sip of water to calm his nerves. he’s not even nervous about the press conference, that can wait. he doesn’t know how much you’ve heard and how much you’ve misinterpreted what he’s said

he finds it weird at first that he’s even worried because you and him have a professional relationship

but then he has to stop himself from smacking the back of his own head. he knows that much isn’t true, hell if it was a strictly professional relationship he wouldn’t be walking around shirtless to get your attention

he wouldn’t lace his fingers with yours when he was nervous either

he wouldn’t let you tend to his injuries and scold him if this was about being professional, he doesn’t tolerate being scolded by anyone but if it’s you he’ll take it

when it’s you scolding him for fucking up one of his fists it feels okay, it feels right. he feels warm inside knowing that you have to care for him if you get that angry

he sighs feeling exasperated waiting for the last person to join the panel and get this question and answers segment over and done with

zeke makes his obnoxiously late appearance but levi doesn’t have it in him to roll his eyes. evidently he’s still stuck on you and thinking about apologizing as soon as this is finished

zeke sits right next to levi and some members of the crowd whisper amongst themselves

“have they made up?”

“think there’s gonna be another brawl??”

“i hope not they’re both my favourites…”

one of the reporters right in front of the stage but behind the barricades is the first to speak

“as we all know there has been an unmistakable sense of tension between two of the most promising contenders this year. mr ackerman and mr yaeger. would you like to put the rumours at rest?”

the question makes levi clench his jaw, zeke rolls his hands into two fists feeling just as frustrated. this is boxing not a reality tv show who cares what the terms of their long broken friendship are?

zeke nudges levi’s knee with his and levi returns the movement.

for now they’ll call a truce. it seems that both he and zeke have more pressing matters to attend to

“me and levi are bros. i’m frankly upset such a rumour started in the first place!” the crowd is mumbling again and the reporter himself is stunned by the unexpected response

“i admit that a fight which some may have saw yesterday was my fault. i had made some inappropriate comments towards his coach to get at him. it was a malicious move on my part and i hope people don’t think him and i are mortal enemies because of this bump in the road.”

zeke is so well spoken when he wants to be that levi feels self conscious sitting there having said nothing.

“mr ackerman? would you like to comment or?”

levi’s eyes light up, this is an opportunity to have you hear him. he doesn’t have to wait to explain when he can throw hints right now. you may be giving him the silent treatment but you wouldn’t miss this press conference for the world

sitting up in his chair and clearing his throat levi looks directly into one of the cameras pointed at him. he’s sure you’ll be able to see him from backstage.

“me and zeke have no other disputes apart from that i assure you. i simply value my coach greatly and so i acted rashly yesterday.”

the reporter nods along feeling pleased with the answer.

a few more questions are thrown around to the other contestants, levi sits there bored out of his mind until at the last minute before everything is just about to wrap up he’s asked a question once again

“regarding your coach, have you thought of a replacement if you win the championship?”

levi presses his lips together not understanding the question

“why would i replace my current coach?” where on earth has this question even come from??

“rumours have been flying around regarding lack of experience and the fact you’re outgrowing each other now. it’s all over boxing discussion forums.”

your hands are embarrassingly shoved into your pockets as people pass behind you backstage offering you pitiful looks. maybe wearing your bright pink team ackerman tracksuit wasn’t the best choice because everyone can hear what’s going on up front

levi’s memory flashes back to the number of times you hid your phone behind your back and awkwardly chuckled saying nothing was bothering you. he understands what you were hiding now

his mouth twists into a scowl, he knows you’re a few meters away listening to all of this and hearing it coming out of a stranger’s mouth is probably upsetting you

“i plan to stick with my coach till the day i die.”

you sit up not believing what you heard, it entirely contradicts what you heard last night

some journalists are jotting down notes, members of the audience are leaning forward listening intently

“well, why is that?” the reporter presses on

levi twirls a pen around in his hands staring off into the crowd.

“i don’t think anyone else could tolerate me.

you bite back a laugh because you know that’s true :-)

“they’re a person who saw potential in me when no one else did.”

he chuckles to himself. “your stamina it’s great!” his witty imitation of you is rather accurate

“that was the first thing coach ever said to me.” he pauses allowing himself to reminisce.

“but i did want to drop my coach the other day.” he admits.

hearing him confess to it should make you mad, you should be pissed off right now but you can’t manage to feel that way at all

“i said it because i wanted them to relax. i never really understood the magnitude of the criticism they were receiving until recently.”

levi’s staring directly at the camera and his eyes pierce into yours, it’s as if he’s actually looking right at you

“i’d be lost without them, so i want to say to the one person rooting for me backstage, thank you for everything you do for me :-)”

you’re covering your face with your hands feeling the blush creep up your cheeks now. GOD what is he doing??? you may as well be the same colour as your tracksuit, you’ve never heard him be this sentimental in his entire life

“so no, i won’t be replacing my coach any time soon. if anything i should worry about my coach replacing me.”

levi ackerman...

he’s a HUGE idiot if he thinks you’ve ever thought of seriously replacing him

levi presses his arms against your sides when you’re both alone and in the solitude of his hotel room.

“i’m sorry for thinking you wanted to fire me.“ you mumble it into his chest feeling much too embarrassed to look up at him and say it

“also i may as well say this now but i have a fat, massive, huge crush on you “

after that you awkwardly laugh to yourself. you both kinda stare at each other and you’re meant to regret telling him how you feel right now but you don’t. having that weight lifted off your shoulders feels amazing.

"you don’t have to like me back or anything and i know you don’t like me back obviously you probably like that one actress- what was her name?? the one with the long black hair she gave you her number at a fundraiser dinner. you’d both look cute together, have i said that??”

levi gives you a blank look

“i threw her number away.”

you’re open mouthed feeling completely shocked, she’s gorgeous??

“HUH?? HELLO WHY? LEVI ACKERMAN, HAVE YOU EVEN SEEN HER??”

“i have but is she you?”

the all too familiar words from years ago ring in your ears

nostalgia hits the both of you in waves and levi takes you in for another hug. your heart hammers in your chest and with your face pressed against him once again you can feel the irregular beat of his heart too.

that is when you and levi formally meet for the second time. this time you are but an experienced coach and he, an experienced boxer.

:-)

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waatermelon-sugaar · 4 years ago

Text

Take Care of Me

Pairing = Santiago x reader

Words = 5.5k

Summary = A discussion about sex toys turns into something more … concrete

Warnings = Swearing, talk/description of mild anxiety. SMUT (18+ only), use of handcuffs in a sexy way, oral, piv sex

A/N = Prompt no.8 requested by @itspdameronthings as part of my 300 follower celebration, thanks so much, hope you like it! Prompt was “Despite what you think, I am completely capable of taking care of myself” w/santi and bolded in text. Also 3 things; 1 = Tom doesn’t exist in this AU, 2 = this is basically pure smut im so sorry, and 3 = I did do head hopping in this, which I know you’re not like supposed to do but also fuck the rules y’know?

Posted to AO3

Masterlist

***

It’s always easy to be loose after one of Benny’s fights.

It’s a heady mix of adrenaline, beer and testosterone, swirling together into a mix that makes you forget your normal boundaries. You’re normally quite brazen about your sex life anyway, but there is a line. You respect your partners, and there’s no need for your teammates to know too much.

You’re all packed into a half-moon booth, Benny straddling a chair that he pulled up to the table after he spent too long chatting up the bartender.

It’s a small comment from Benny (because of course it’s Benny), saying that you haven’t got laid in a while, and you’re honestly surprised he noticed. But then, that’s the only predictable thing about Benny, that he is unpredictable.

Your surprise means you take a little too long actually thinking about it, which confirms Benny’s statement. You lean back a little in your seat, desperately ignoring Santi, who’s sat to your left. It also means you bite back a little harder in defence.

“Well maybe if you guys didn’t look like you’re about to murder anyone who even dares ask for my number maybe I’d have better luck.” That’s a lie, but there’s no way you’re going to tell them the truth. No way you’re going to tell Santi-

Your thoughts are interrupted by Will, sat to your right. “So you’re asking for our help?”

You scoff, hitting him up the head. “No, thank you.” Will knows why. Because of course he does. One of your oldest friends, he’d been the one who convinced you to join the team in the first place. “Despite what you think, I am completely capable of taking care of myself.”

You send a wink down to the table to Benny, who’s the first to catch on, hollering, and you try not to react to Santi leaning forward, suddenly interested, as though you’re not already hyper-aware of every body movement of his.

You continue, deciding you’re quite enjoying the effect you’ve had. “What do I need some stranger for when I can give myself a better orgasm than he could ever dream of?” You take a sip of your drink to hide your grin, as both Benny and Will holler, gaining a few glares from the pub’s other patrons.

That sip means you’re unprepared for Santi to lean in closer to you, his lips so close to your ear that you can feel his breath. “Maybe ‘stranger’ is where you’re going wrong.”

You swallow, unprepared for the sudden flare of attraction shooting through you and turning your head, just as he says, “I could take care of you.”

You catch a glimpse of Santi’s fuck me eyes when Benny (the dickhead) interrupts. Crossing his arms on the sticky table in front of him, he asks, “Does that mean you have toys?”

Frankie’s hat somehow tips lower on his head, if that’s possible.

Will twitches towards his brother, like he wants to strangle Benny for being so uncouth, but you put your hand on his upper arm. “Of course.” The best course of action is to just act like this is normal, so add a bit of air to your voice. This was normal. “Who doesn’t?”

There’s a blush rising on Benny’s cheeks and you can’t help but stoke it, grinning at him, and attempting your best bedroom eyes. He’s still not too ashamed to ask though. “What kinds?”

Will decides he’s had enough, glancing at Santi behind you with a frown and hitting Benny over the head in an imitation of the way you’d hit him. You laugh, unexpectedly pleased at the reaction you’ve gotten. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”

Benny nods, eager, even as Will stands, grabbing a hold of him, and steering him towards the bar. “Yes! Yes I would!” He manages to throw back at you and you laugh again, twisting your body to face Santi and Frankie, bringing your left leg onto the bench.

***

Meanwhile Santiago is in hell. He’s been in multiple hellish situations before, most similar to this one, in that it was always the 5 of you, bullets flying around your heads, rifles in your arms, weighed down by heat and sweat and tac vests.

And yet somehow, he thinks this might be the worst. Your foot next to his thigh, your knee bent, pulling your jeans up your leg and exposing your ankle to him. Watching you flirt with Benny, talking about sex, and toys, and masturbation. When that's all he wants to do with you. He just has to get the courage to tell you.

With you, there was a before in Santi’s life, and an after.

Before he knew you; and after he knew you.

Before he loved you; and after he loved you.

Except Santi’s not quite sure when he fell in love with you.

It started when Will introduced you as the newest member of the team, one of his childhood friends. He didn’t mean for it to happen, he treated you like he treated anyone else, quickly discovering that you weren’t like anyone else.

He welcomed you into his life with open arms, starting off innocently - he wanted to spend time with you. You were Will’s friend, which meant that there must be something good about you. You made him laugh, made him feel safe (even when he wasn’t). He’d wanted to do the same for you and thought he did a pretty good job.

He became your friend, until one day the two of you were watching a film. He can’t remember what it was, just that you were at his house, drinking and laughing and talking, huddled in one of his blankets, and looking like you belonged there, forever.

Falling in love with you was so easy, Santi didn’t even realise he was doing it.

Santi’s still impressed with himself that he didn’t just blurt out the words then and there. I love you.

How long had he been in love with you for? He couldn’t pinpoint down a specific moment. He remembered the night when you’d become friends - the last two around the bonfire, toasting marshmallows, making that awkward small-talk that occurs between acquaintances.

You’d made him laugh, playing chubby-bunny and teasing him until he’d had a go. You’d talked and talked, and Santi can’t even remember what about. Nothing, probably. The basics. Boring stuff, but filled with details that he’d used to keep the conversation going the next day.

He knows when he became your friend. Recognised when you trusted him more than the others, with the exception of maybe Will.

But he didn’t know when he fell in love with you. Just the day that the love became so overwhelming in his chest that he realised it.

The real nail in his metaphorical coffin was the night afterwards. The 5 of you had gone to a bar, and a girl had started talking to him as he was buying drinks. She was pretty, but she wasn’t you. And like a flashbulb, all of Santi’s previous partners flew through his mind and he realised that nothing had ever come out of them because they weren’t you.

They didn’t know how he liked his coffee, or why he had joined the military. They didn’t know the story behind his callsign, or what his favourite song was.

You did. What you weren’t there for, you asked about. You remembered. You made him feel important, like he mattered. In ways that he didn’t even really know existed.

You were the one that started him on decaf without telling him. That had been a conversation and a half. Before morning briefings, you’d started bringing him coffees. He hadn’t noticed much of a taste difference, and shamefully, had come to expect them.

Until, a month later, you weren’t there. A small trip home to visit your family, everyone knew you’d be back in a couple of days. Regardless, Santi had ordered what he’d thought was his usual coffee.

And found his anxiety rearing up again. It was subtle, making him more jumpy, less able to sleep, but it was there. He wasn’t sure what the cause was, definitely hadn’t linked it to the coffee, instead assuming that maybe he just missed you. Maybe because his anxiety hadn’t disappeared all the way, even with decaf. Maybe it was because it was your presence that helped him too.

He hadn’t even really noticed when the caffeine was gone, hadn’t noticed the absence of something wrong, only seeing the contrast when it returned. Maybe because it was gradual, the weaning off the caffeinated coffee, whereas the return, with his request of additional shot, had been too sharp for him.

You hadn’t noticed at first, assuming that Santi’s bear hug when he’d first seen you had just been because he missed you. But after lunch you pulled him to one side.

“Are you alright?” Your eyes are slightly wider with worry, and you’re chewing slightly on your bottom lip.

He hates that he’s the one to do that to you, and he tries to brush it off. “I’m fine.” That was his first mistake. His second was trying to push past you.

“Santiago!” He’s pulled up short, and there’s that tension, pulling at his shoulders, his eyebrows. “Tell me what’s wrong.” Your tone of voice hasn’t changed, but this time it’s a command.

Exhausted, hating himself, Santi drags his hands across his face. “Nothing. It’s nothing. I don’t...I don’t know.” He takes a breath, and it shudders through him. “I don’t know.” He sounds defeated, and he hopes you can’t hear it. “I just...I feel…” How does he feel? “Jittery.” Is what he finally settles on, but the word still feels wrong somehow.

You frown, looking him up and down like you’ve never seen him before. In fact, you’re silent for so long, Santi starts to be worried that you’re going to tell him to stop being so fucking ridiculous.

You don’t, but you ask questions.

Has he been sleeping? “Not really.”

Does he have something big coming up? “Just the usual.”

Has his daily routine changed at all? “No, I don’t think so. I get myself a coffee in the morning and the-”

You interrupt him with a hand on his arm. “I’m so sorry.” And now it’s wrong, because now you’re looking at him like it’s your fault, when it definitely isn’t. “Santi I’m sorry. It’s your coffee.”

Santi frowns. His coffee? And you sound so apologetic, and he doesn’t understand why. “I switched you to decaf.” You can’t meet his eyes any more, gaze skittering to his shoulder with nerves. And you’re not shutting up. “I’m sorry, I should have told you, or asked if I could, I just... I knew you were getting nightmares, and decaf helped me so I thought it might help y-”

Santi cuts you off with a hug.

And now, the three of you sat in the booth, he hates himself for agreeing with Benny. He would like to know. He has a sneaking suspicion, odd little comments you’ve made throughout the years that when pieced together, paint a picture. A very vivid picture that he sometimes uses to torture himself, late at night in bed, imagining what you’d look like with your hands between your legs and wrapping a hand around his-

Santi shakes his head. Now is not the time. There’s never really a good time to fantasise about one of your best friends, but in public when they’re sitting next to you, is definitely one of the worst.

And why did he have to offer to take care of you? Did he think he was in some kind of cheesy porno? What if you hated him-

In the end, it’s you who breaks him out of his thoughts. “Don’t tell me you’re embarrassed Pope.” You push out with your foot, lightly kicking his thigh, unable to read his stony face.

Throughout all of this, Frankie has kept quiet, and now the conversation seems like it’ll be returning to safer ground, he rubs a hand over his face, lifting his hat slightly. “No.” Santi protests, although he says it too fast for it to be sincere. “I’m not embarrassed.”

“Good,” you reply, and Santi can see the moment a thought pops into your head that you can’t resist, he can see it in the way your eyes light up with mischief. “Out of all the boys, I figured you’d be the most likely to use toys.”

Frankie quickly slides out from his seat, muttering something about going to the toilet, his cheeks aflame, as Santi chokes a little on his beer. “Or maybe Will,” you muse, and Santi coughs again. “Shit, are you alright?” You ask, rocking forward to lean on your knee so you can rub Santi’s back for a second.

He concentrates on getting himself back under control, on not focusing how warm your hand is against his back. He takes deep breaths in an attempt to calm his heart down, praying that the room is dark enough that you won’t see him blush.

Santi nods, his eyes watering a little, and you laugh, but it’s not unkind, not even when one of your thumbs wipes at his lower lash line, brushing away his tears with the pad. It’s so unexpectedly soft, another sharp contrast to this sticky, seedy bar they’re all in, where the booth seats are cracked and the most complicated drink they make is a rum and coke.

“Good,” you say, voice quiet, scooting back on the bench, your foot closer to his thigh this time, and Santi hates himself for wanting to follow you.

Instead, he pretends everyone else is still here, even as he watches Will whisper something into Benny’s ear as they stand, drinking next to the bar, with no clear intention of returning. Suddenly Benny punches Will’s upper arm, and Santi’s eyebrows twitch slightly in confusion. Benny looks ecstatic, and for what?

“I’ve used handcuffs,” he says casually, half of his mind taken up with Benny and Will acting like lunatics at the bar behind you. He’s wrenched back to you when you raise an eyebrow, and he’s reminded what it feels like to be the centre of your world.

Fuck, you’re sexy though.

***

Your heart beat speeds up, suddenly sounding loud in your chest. Your mind is screaming Danger! at you - but how can it be? This is Santiago. You would trust him with your life. You have.

I could take care of you, flashes through your mind again. Maybe-

“Yeah?” You ask, trying to act calm when there’s a steady thrumming under your skin. “And are you the tied up person, or do you do the tying?”

Santi scoffs, like he thinks the answer is obvious. Maybe it is.

“I do the tying.”

You smirk, dragging an exaggerated eye up and down his body. “Sure about that?”

He looks relaxed, like he can take up more space now Frankie has gone. One of his hands is on your calf, gently trailing up and down, slowly setting you on fire, and you don’t even think he realises he’s doing it. There’s something in his eyes that you don’t recognise, darker, although it seems familiar. That’s been happening more and more lately, especially when it’s just the two of you. You like it.

“You want to test me babygirl?”

You feel breathless. “Maybe I’d like to try.”

You’ve never spoken with Santi like this before. You flirt with him more than the other boys, but this is new. This feels...real, somehow. More dangerous. And he’s closer now, shifting, so your foot is over his lap, his hand wrapped around your ankle, on your bare skin and you’ve forgotten how to breathe. You watch his hand move on your leg and you feel like you could evaporate.

“That’s not what good girls do.” Fuck, his voice.

“Good girls don’t do a lot of things I do.”

And you’re not sure what gives you the sudden confidence, but you lean forwards, pressing a soft kiss to his mouth. It’s a horrible angle, your legs in the way, but you don’t care.

And then you’re retreating, opening your eyes again, suddenly unsure of what you’ve just done. Your mouth feels tingly, where you can still feel Santi against you. His grip has tightened on your leg, no longer moving.

And then his hand is tugging at you a little, and there’s a smile threatening to take over his face.

Come here.

You scoot up, so your left leg is fully over him, your right leg tangling with his under the table and you can smell him now, beer and - as weird as it sounds - like a man. It’s familiar. Nice. Breathless, you shoot him a little grin, suddenly unsure.

And then he’s kissing you again and it’s everything you ever dreamed of. His lips are soft, but firm, moving against your mouth, contrasting with the slight stubble growing on his face. His free hand moves to your waist and you let out a small sound.

You break apart after a second, both of you breathless. You’ve slung your arms around his neck, fingers idly playing with his chain, and you’re the first to speak.

“So do you use those handcuffs on anyone?”

Santi kisses you again, short and sweet, before he answers, his lips mumbling against yours. “Hmm, just on girls I really like.”

You kiss again, neither of you really wanting to stop. “Can I use them on you?” Santi asks, moving to kiss along your jaw, nipping at your earlobe. You feel surrounded by him, he’s all you care about, all you can feel.

Your eyes snap open, desire pooling in your belly. Is this really happening? “Yes.”

“Good.” Santi’s voice is still low in your ear, before he moves down your neck, soft lips a stark contrast to his stubble catching on your skin. “How do you feel about a date, too?”

“Yeah?” You lean back slightly so you can see his face. He’s beautiful in this light, face half hidden in the shadows, eyes dark.

His lips are brushing yours again.

“Yeah. I’ll pick you up, take you somewhere nice, do it properly.”

“Good,” you mumble against him, “that sounds really good.” Your fingers are still playing with his chain, lightly brushing against the scar on his neck. “Shall we go?”

Before you know it, the two of you are sitting in a cab, having said a quick goodbye to the others, Will asking if it was safe for them to sit back in the booth. You’d responded with the finger, not bothering with a proper reply.

Santi leans over to you, whispering into your ear. “Can I really tie you up?”

You clench your thighs together, closing your eyes in an effort not to physically respond. The pause is enough for Santi to hesitate, hand shyly holding yours. “It’s ok, if you don’t want to, that’s fine, it was just a-”

You stop him with a kiss, moving your hand so you can squeeze him in reassurance. When you answer, it’s a mumble against his mouth so the driver doesn’t hear. “Break out the handcuffs, and we’ll see if you’re as tough as you act, big boy.”

Santi groans when you lean away from him.

Getting inside Santi’s flat is a feat in itself, and you’re honestly a little proud of the restraint both of you showed by not fucking in the stairwell, stopping every couple of meters to kiss each other senseless, hips clumsily knocking together as you rile each other up.

You’ve been inside his flat before, so when Santi kicks the door closed, walking you backwards into his bedroom, kissing you all the while, you don’t protest. It’s so nice to finally kiss Santi like you’ve wanted to for a while now, so nice to feel his hands on your waist, pushing you backwards while his hips press into yours, steady now, purposeful.

His fingers are playing with the waist of your trousers, and you help him, shimmying your jeans off, pushing them down your thighs and letting them fall to the floor. Then he surprises you, dropping to his knees in front of you, pulling your knickers down your legs.

Looking down, you feel dizzy from the rush of power this brings you. Santi looks like he’s about to worship you, his face close to your pussy. His hands are on your waist and he pushes at you, encouraging you to step back.

When you don’t he tips his head back, exposing his neck to you. “Step back.” His voice is dangerous and you can feel more wetness gathering between your legs. You grin down at him, still not moving.

In response Santi nips at your thigh, grinning when you gasp, hands flying to his hair. He pushes at you again, and this time you let him, stepping back until you hit his bed, sitting down.

Santi presses his hand against your stomach, and you allow yourself to be pushed back, falling back onto your elbows so you can watch him. He presses his nose to your mound and you squirm, impatient, as Santi spreads your knees so he can fit between your legs.

You watch him press his nose to your pussy, burying his nose in you, feeling yourself grow wetter. “You taste so good,” he groans, “Sweetest pussy I’ve tasted.” As he begins to explore you with his tongue, your hips lift off the bed with a groan and it takes you a second to recognise your own voice, broken with need. Santi’s arm reaches out, pressing you down as he explores your folds. Stubble is scratching your thighs, a pleasantly rough feeling compared to the soft wetness, the pliability of Santi’s tongue. Your clit is the first thing he concentrates on, his tongue practically lapping at you, and it all feels so good.

One hand is desperately fisting the sheets to the side of you as you try to hold on to reality, the other knotted in Santi’s short curls, nails scraping ever so slightly along his scalp even as he lifts you higher and higher. Broken pleas of his name fall from your lips when he inserts two fingers into you, gently pumping in and out, with a strangely satisfying squelch under your cries.

Your orgasm creeps up on you, slow and unsuspecting. One second your chest is heaving, breaths short and shallow, the next you’ve tensed up as you fall apart under Santi.

He keeps kissing you, gently pressing his lips over your thighs, hips, stomach as you stare at his ceiling, willing rational thought to return to you. He’s murmuring praises into your skin, telling you how good you are for him, what a good job you’ve done, how pretty you look when you come, how he wants to make you do it again, and all the while you float somewhere above your body, hardly daring to believe this is real. Santi keeps kissing you, any skin he can get his mouth on, desperate to keep tasting you. Gradually he moves up your body, even as you lie there, panting, letting him push your top up, bunching under your arms and around your neck.

Your hands fly to his hair when he bites the soft skin of your breast peeking out from your bra, and you arch your back towards him slightly, letting out a small whine. You can feel his smirk against you, so you wrap your legs around his waist, canting your hips up, grinding against where you can feel him, hard and aching in his jeans.

Now it’s your turn to smirk, slow and lazy when Santi lets out a low growl in response. He tips his head up so he can look at you, his eyes soft as he smiles at you. “You’re going to be the death of me.”

And then his body weight is gone and he’s standing next to the bed, taking his top off and it’s not the first time you’ve seen him shirtless, of course it isn’t, but it’s the first time you’ve seen him and been allowed to look, and Santi’s all shadows and soft muscle, pale scars highlighted on his skin.

You sit up, and it takes you a second to fight your way out of your top, quickly sliding the straps of your bra off, and dropping your clothes to the side of the bed as you watch Santi cross his room, and fish out a pair of handcuffs from a box with a couple of other objects inside, as well as what you’re pretty sure looks like a strap-on. And maybe it’s because his ass is currently in your eye-line, maybe it’s the surprise, but the image of you wearing it, teasing Santi with your dick while he waits on all fours on his bed, begging for you to touch him, suddenly pops into your head, and you have to work to hold back a moan at the mental image. Oh my god.

When Santi turns back to you, he’s opened the cuffs. “Are you familiar with the traffic light system?”

You suddenly feel nervous, your mouth dry, and you don’t know why, this is Santi. He’s made it clear that you don’t have to do this, and anyway you want to. “Green is good, orange is slow down, red is stop,” you recite easily, and Santi nods in satisfaction.

“Good girl,” he says and his words hit deep in your stomach, unfurling something you hadn’t known existed. “You say something and I’ll untie you.”

You raise an eyebrow, leaning back on your hands, eyeing up the way Santi’s jeans are still on, now hanging low on his hips, exposing a small trail of hair down from his bellybutton. “What if I don’t want you to untie me?” You ask.

You can see how his eyes darken, but he doesn’t move. “Tell me you understand,” he says, voice stern and you shiver.

“I understand,” you parrot. Santi nods, pleased at you doing as he says, and steps out of his jeans, pulling his boxers off at the same time, releasing his cock. He’s hard, curving up towards his stomach and leaking pre-cum.

Almost on instinct, you lean forwards to lick it off, and Santi lets out a groan of satisfaction at the sensation of your mouth just wrapping around his head, your hands on his thighs. Before you can take him any further, he’s stepping back, shaking his head.

“Lie back,” he instructs, and you obey. Santi kneels next to you, tugging your wrists up, above your head, looping the handcuffs through his headboard and clicking them on around you. You give them an experimental tug, biting back a moan when they hold fast. “Colour?” Santi asks, and you grin up at him.

“Green.” Your voice already sounds broken. “Santi, please.”

Santi just kneels back, looking at you with those hungry eyes. “Fuck, you’re gorgeous,” he breathes out, hands running up and down your body, ignoring how you squirm as best you can under him.

“Oh yeah?” You ask. “Why don’t you come down here then, instead of just watching me?” Santi’s hands reach your breasts, squeezing and gently massaging and you arch your back towards him.

“You’re unhappy with my hands?” Santi returns, and stops touching you. You can’t help it, letting out a whine and straining to move your arms towards him, before remembering you can’t, your attempted movement jangling the chain a little.

“No, Santi,” you’re desperate for him to touch you again, especially now you can’t touch him,“Santi please, touch me again, touch me more.” Begging has never come so easily to you. And then Santi’s moving between your legs, gripping your hips and thrusting up, but not into you, just along your folds. You moan, shifting as best as you can while Santi coats himself with your slick, the head of his cock just pushing your clit, teasing you and riling you up further.

You suddenly really want to touch him, to rake your hands through his hair, to scratch your nails down his back, to be able to suck a purple hickey into his skin. You let your head fall back to the bed, pushing your hips towards him, desperate for more, desperate for him.

It’s only when you open your mouth in a desperate plea, a whine of his name, “Santi, Santi please,” that he begins to push into you.

Your mouth falls open in silent pleasure, just as Santi begins to talk. “Fuck, baby.” The stretch of him is delicious. “I wanted this for so long.” Now fully seated in you, he rests on his forearms, kissing you softly, first on the forehead, then on your lips. “Colour?” he asks softly.

You nearly cry from how sweet it is, how sweet he is, before responding, a mumble against his lips. “Green.” You feel full, like this is how you’re supposed to feel all the time, this is your base state, and you’re going to spend the rest of your life trying to achieve this specific feeling.

“Good girl,” Santi murmurs and you keen at the praise, feeling insatiable, wanting more, clenching around him. He grins, registering your response. “You liked that? You like being told what a good job you’re doing, how good you feel around me..” he breaks off with a gasp, and your eyes close as Santi begins to move in time with his words, long, slow thrusts as he begins to put you together again, building you up, further and further, his thrusts speeding up gradually, the sound of his dick sliding into your wetness, and the slap of skin-on-skin loud in his room, mixing with your moans.

You lift your legs up, wrapping them around his waist, hooking one of your feet around Santi’s butt. They don’t stay there for long, one of Santi’s arms pushing one leg up your body, hand under your knee as he splits you open. The new angle hits something deeper in you, and you gasp, unable to move and at the mercy of Santiago.

Your orgasm takes you by surprise, coming out of nowhere, your lower body suddenly clenching around Santi, arms straining against the handcuffs, as you try in vain to touch him. You tumble through it, muscles spasming as you fall under him. He keeps moving into you as you shudder below him, pulling you through with murmured praise and encouragement as another broken cry leaves your throat.

His thrusts start to get sloppier as he goes faster, losing his rhythm slightly and you can tell he’s near his end. As best you can, you start moving your own hips, grinding up to meet him, words of encouragement slipping past your lips. “Santi, you feel so good, are you gonna fill me up?” You coo, pouting a little, tugging your wrists a little for emphasis. “Please Santi, I want to feel you, come in me, please-”

You stop when Santi snaps his hips once more, with a groan of finality and you can feel his cum inside of you as he holds himself there, his cock pulsing within you. He presses a couple more gentle kisses to your neck before sliding out, and you hiss slightly at the pull on your sensitive folds of your pussy.

He leaves for a second, returning with a key and gently releasing your wrists. “Good girl,” he murmurs, massaging your skin. “You did so good for me.”

He helps you sit up, kissing your cheek before leaving again. This time when he returns, he has a wet rag, and a glass of water, which you take a sip from, not having realised how thirsty you were. He gently dabs the rag on the inside of your thighs first, and the two of you watch in slightly morbid fascination as Santi’s cum leaks out of you onto the rag.

“That’s kinda hot,” you comment idly, wondering if Santi fucked all sense of you.

He only laughs, wiping the mess away and cuddling up next to you. “Do you want me to do it again?” he asks as you lean into his arms, his hands wrapping around your wrists to rub circles into your skin.

“Yes,” you answer, probably too quickly but beyond caring.

“Good.”

There’s a pause, and you can tell Santi wants to ask you something, so you twist in his arms, kissing along his shoulder. The act feels small, and innocent somehow, despite your states of undress, as you try to reassure him.

“You were right,” you murmur near his ear, “Stranger was where I was going wrong.”

It takes him a second to piece your reference together, but then he grins, and it’s like he hung the sun in the sky. “Yeah? I took care of you?”

You kiss him again, this time on the lips, biting back your own identical grin. “Yeah.”

***

Thanks for reading! Reblogs and comments mean the world to me 🥰🥰🥰

Tags: @fantasticcopeaglepasta

#Santiago x reader #Santiago Garcia x reader #Santiago pope x reader #Santiago pope Garcia x reader #pope x reader #Santiago Garcia #Santiago pope #Santiago pope Garcia #triple frontier #fanfic

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midnightsconspiracy · 4 years ago

Text

Public Opinion

Public Opinion - @midnightsconspiracy

Summary: Being a public defender made you rather unpopular, especially with your new boyfriend's co-workers

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1443

Requested: Yes!!

‘This might be a bit random but I was thinking one for Mouse where the reader is like a successful, powerful lawyer and is secretly dating mouse, but when the team finds out they judge her until they meet her? Sorry if it’s too specific I’m in love with your fics.’

A/N: I am on a creative roll tonight! 4 fics in one night!!! Requests are still open

Masterlist

When you had met Mouse you knew things might be have been a little rocky, considering your jobs were notorious for hating each other, you working as a public defender and him working within the police force. But that had not stopped the both of you from entering a relationship, deciding that it didn’t bother you, both loving what you did and each other, neither wanting to compromise. You had met him at a Rangers reunion, your brother having served alongside Mouse in Afghanistan. You two had instantly hit it off, both keeping each other company, having your original partners blow you off. He had told you of his friend Jay, who he’d originally meant to have gone with, but being abandoned last minutes for his girlfriend instead. That had worked out in both of your favours, allowing you to have the time of your life, talking for hours getting buzzed whilst drinking the free drinks the event offered. After that night you had lost contact for a couple of months before he reached out asking you to go on a date. You were sceptical at first, why was he just reaching out now and not in the three months he’d had your number? But you had said yes anyway, remembering how good you had felt when you were with him.

That evening he had told you how he was meaning to call but had been going through some stuff at work that kept him from doing so. The date had bought back memories of how much you enjoyed spending time with Mouse, eventually leading to more and more dates each month, until finally, you started formally dating. Mouse was not the easiest boyfriend, having problems with his PTSD and anxiety, but that didn’t make him any less loveable in your eyes, in fact, it made him more so. It bought you both closer together, he relied on the fact that you were willing to help him, encouraging him to seek help each time he felt as though he was spiralling out of control. After six months of seeing you, he already felt as though he was a better person, he had started therapy to help deal with his trauma caused by the Rangers, going out to socialise with his friends more and was just generally happier with his daily life. The one thing he didn’t understand though is why you chose to become a public defender. You knew it was his police and military background talking, but it didn’t bother you too much knowing not many people understood why you did what you did, being a public defender, and a good one, was an extremely controversial job. Explaining to him that you liked to help the underdog, he stared at you like you were mad, as you realised he would never understand why. Once you had felt as though you trusted him enough, you decided that you wanted to meet the other important people in his life, his co-workers. You finally wanted to meet the notorious Jay Halstead, the one he had told you so much about on that faithful day. But he had been hesitant when you bought the topic up, knowing how they had reacted when he had told them originally.

The team had noticed a difference in Mouse, being much happier, even being more talkative than usual. They had questioned him extensively, wanting to get to bottom of what or who was causing Mouse to act differently. Whilst at Molly’s, he had decided to reveal all over a couple of beers, informing the team that he had met a girl a couple of months ago, and had only recently become official with her. The team had been happy at first, congratulating him on finding someone, despite his traumatic past and the consequences of that. But things had turned sour when then had pried more on who this mysterious person was. He’d told them that you were a public defender, and they might have known who you were considering you had defended some high profile criminals that they had worked on. That had changed things dramatically, all of them knowing exactly who you were, disliking you over the fact you had gotten off or lessened the sentence of people who had done awful things and they had spent a long time trying to find. Jay's reaction had been the harshest blow to Mouse, being his best friend, he just wanting the man's approval. This recent disapproval of your relationship made Mouse really question what he wanted, you or Jay? Determined that he wanted to keep both of you, he devised a plan, maybe if Jay met you, he would change his opinion on you. So he decided that he would bring you along to when they would next all meet up at the infamous bar.

Mouse had been telling you for the past week that you two were going out on Friday evening to meet his friends, so you were excited, not knowing what had happened with him and his co-workers last time they had drunk there. Getting ready, you put on a nice outfit, waiting for Mouse to be ready so you could finally leave. A few minutes past and Mouse still had not emerged from the bedroom, despite seemingly already being ready as you were getting changed. Walking into the bedroom you found him on the bed, head in his hands, silent and unwavering. Calling his name out, he looked up, giving you a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes, walking towards you to plant a slight kiss on your forehead. Asking if he was ok, he shrugged it off, giving you a small ‘yes’, proceeding to walk out of the room to grab his keys and wallet. The car ride over was silent, as tension filled the air, a tension that you didn’t understand. Walking into the bar and over to the booth, Mouse introduced you nervously, bringing down your excitement a couple of notches in the process due to his strange disposition. Following your boyfriend, you greeted everyone, noticing all of the grim faces staring back at you. The first to speak up was Jay, introducing himself with an awkward smile, the table falling into silence afterwards. You knew something was off but that didn’t stop you from being your normal, kind self.

“Mouse talks very highly of you all, I especially appreciate all the work you guys do,” you said, trying to create conversation to cut the tension.

“Yeah, sure you do,” Jay sarcastically commented, verbally disagreeing with your line of work

“I know you guys don’t like the work I do, but I have a reason for it, just as you have yours for becoming police officers.” Trying to reason with them was going to be hard, having gone in a totally opposite direction career-wise to them, having a fixed outlook on your job. But you were determined, loving Mouse so much that you would fight as hard as you could to be in their good books.

“It's not the same though, we catch criminals, you release them.” Adam piped up, adding more fuel to the fire of hatred, directed towards you.

“Maybe we should leave,” Mouse said, knowing you were probably extremely uncomfortable with the situation.

“No,” you replied, wanting to stand your ground and explain yourself to these people.

“I do it because no one else is routing for the underdog, they’re thrown into the system and spit out into a life of more crime. I help them have a chance at life, a chance of justice, even if sometimes they don’t deserve it.” Raising your voice, you started getting angry, these people weren’t even giving you a chance, not only hurting yourself but also Mouse in the process.

“Ok.” Jay followed up.

“Plus you should be happy for your friend that he’s happy and found someone that he likes, not hating on me and trying to sabotage this relationship-” you exclaimed, pissed at the fact his friends would do this to him.

“I like you.” Jay butted in. Confusion bounded onto your face at the sudden expression of fondness. Why had they changed their minds so quickly? The conversation continued as normal as if that argument had never even happened, not only chatting as usual but including you in them as well. Little did you know your outburst had changed his mind completely, deciding that maybe you weren’t so bad, that your fiery self would stand up for you and Mouse no matter what, and that was just what he needed. So maybe you were good for Mouse after all.

----------

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#chicago pd #chicago pd imagines #chicago pd x reader #one chicago #greg gerwitz #greg gerwitz x reader #greg gerwitz imagines #greg mouse gerwitz

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herstarburststories · 4 years ago

Text

You Have A Home

Pairing: Sam Winchester x Reader

Summary: After a call from Y/N, Sam comes back town to help -- and brings Dean with him.

Requests: N°1 heyhey, could you do a Sam x reader where they went to college togehter and later meet again and they realise their feelings for eachother...xx + N°2: can you do a college sam headcanon with medicine student reader

A/N: This was fun! The monster here is mentioned in season 6, when the boys ask Bobby for advice on how to kill it. This is my first Samgirl long imagine, with Dean being the flirty he is. I wrote this almost one year ago, so it's more crude and I'm nervous to be posting it! And my piece for @cajunquandary 's 600 challenge, my prompt was monster of the week. Dividers by @talesmaniac89!

Dean's eyes remained on the road when the bitter statement left his body, tangled with a wry chuckle, “I can't believe you are still in touch with those people.”

“Those people?” Sam arched elbows, slightly skeptical by his brother's tone, “They were my friends, Dean.”

“Sammy, all our friends? Dead. They all die. Or worse.” He glanced at him for a moment, pursing his lips together. It might not be an easy assignment, but was part of the job. Sammy had tried to run away plenty times and always came back, when would he understand? “We don't get to have friends. You should've learned that.”

“They are not our friends, they are my friends. Also, they don't know about the hunting life, they aren't in harm.” Sammy hissed once the other locked his green eyes on the road again. Dean sighed, moving one hand away and up from the steering wheel in a rendition gesture.

“Whatever you say, man. I'm just warning you, this doesn't usually end up good for them.”

Sam scoffed, Dean could get on his nerves sometimes, “We saved many people that got to have a good life.”

“Yeah, but those people didn't know us before that. I told you when you left Stanford--”

“I didn't keep contact, okay!? I just... I just still have a phone that they have the number of. No social media, no calls on birthdays.” Nervously gesticulating, he added, “I know how to keep them safe, Dean.”

“So, old friend?” The eldest Winchester asked after the few minutes of silence that followed Sam's outburst, “Female old friend?”

“Yes. (Y/N) (Y/L/N).” Dean smirked, and Sam to rolled his eyes at his behavior, “Keep it in your pants.”

He'd let out a malicious laughter before turning on the radio, the first guitar sounds of AC/DC playing in the background.

“I think you'll be the one not keeping it, Sammy.”

“Hello?” The woman in nothing but a towel who had opened the door greeted them with a question, her brown eyes glaring at the two men with clear confusion.

Dean had no shame to check her out, innerly celebrating that she was still wet from her shower. Perhaps visiting Sam's friends wasn't that big mistake. “Hey, you.”

She grimaced at Dean for two seconds before turning her attention to Sam again, sudden recognition written on her face.

“Sam? Sam Winchester?” He nodded, smiling that light-hearted boyish grin at her. Not caring about her dressings, she just threw herself at Sammy, hugging him tightly. “I missed you!” She pulled away only to hit his shoulder. Her short stature didn't match Sam's, but he'd still make a grimace at her attempt of slap. “Why didn't you call? God, your hair grew a lot. Listen, I have some scissors.”

“Tried that, didn't work.” Dean interrupted their reencounter, trying to get in the conversation. An usual lopsided grin on his face, “Dean Winchester, Sam's brother.”

“Layla, Sam's friend.” She gave him a friendly smile in return, opening space for them to pass through the door before closing it, “Come in, I need to change in clothes.”

“I wouldn't even dream of that. Seriously.”

Layla would just wiggle one of her brows at Dean's comments, not impressed by it, “Ele é sempre assim? (Is he always like this?)”

Thankfully, Sam still remembered a bit of his friend's native language. He just chuckled, managing to apologize for Dean's typical Dean behavior, “Unfortunately. Sinto muito. (I'm sorry)”

“(Y/N) is in the kitchen. I'll be right back.” Her accent was thicking stronger duo the comfortability around Sam. Excusing herself, the caramel skinned girl leaded upstairs.

“What did she say?” Dean asked, side glancing at the path Layla had just gone on, not even sure of which language she'd just spoken, much less what was said. Sammy didn't bother replying, satisfied to grin at his obvxion brother. “Dude, come on!”

“Sam!” A well-known voice filled the room as the image of (Y/N) appeared in front of them, dressing your loyal cook's avental. You didn't think twice before jumping on Sam. “I missed you, giant!”

He, like always, caught you with a light-hearted laughter, “I missed you too, cupcake.” You two spent a few moments like this, enjoying each other's warm and long lost touch, until Dean cleared his throat. You finally went back to the ground, embarrassed by having a stranger to see that level of intimacy between you and Sam, “This is Dean, my--”

“Handsome brother. Hello, cupcake.” Dean was so going to tease Sam for the rest of his life for it.

“You really live up for Sam's description.” You giggled, heading towards the kitchen “Come in, I'm baking.”

“So, you and Layla still live together?”

“Most of the time, yes. You know how she is, comes and goes. Never wanted to stay in a place for too long and got a job that supported that.” The boys followed you, Dean examining the kitchen and trying to discover what you were cooking through the smell, while Sam couldn't take his eyes on you, “Apparently, just like you.”

Even though your back was facing them as you checked the food, the bite didn't pass unnoticed, “I had to leave, (Y/N)”

“I understand that, Sam. But you never called or texted. It was like I--” You quickly corrected yourself, “We never existed for you.”

“It's not like that.” Sam sighed, how could he justify? He knew you wouldn't buy a simple excuse. You were smart, and knew him too well to swallow a 'I went on a trip with my brother and just decided that college wasn't my deal' and leave it for that.

“I'm here!” Layla declared, arriving into the room with an excited smile, it was good to have the gang back together. Although, the tangible tension almost made her go back to the shower, “Am I interrupting something?”

“A sitcom DR.” Dean answered with sarcasm, spreading his figure on the chair when you turned around with an apple pie in your hands “What about we talk about the ca-- Is this pie?”

“We heard a scream followed by a loud roar and (Y/N) stayed near the camping part because there was still a signal and I went looking for who it was. When I got there, the thing ran away. Jorge's body... No human did that. His chest was cracked open irregularly, as if it was done by an animal and his heart looked weird. Like it was squeezed and drawn on up somehow?”

“We got a Samia.” Dean stated, relaxing on his spot. Some sault, rosemary and fire would do the job just fine, “Let me guess, it left a clawn near the body or inside it?”

Layla nodded, “Right in the chest or what lasted of it.”

“Are you okay? Finding the body in that state.” A comprehensive manner englobed Sam's question, whom noticed the normality with his friend described finding a shattered body.

“Just some guts.” She shrugged, a grimace was all the reaction they'd get. Crying wouldn't help, neither being terrorized as they expected her too. “I've seen Grey's Anatomy enough not to care about it.”

“Well, I'm literally a medicine student and I am still not okay with that. Especially after you made me go and check the body.” You argued, glaring at your best friend who'd only roll her eyes in response.

“I needed a professional to say if he was dead or not!”

“You need a therapist.”

Dean got up, looking straight at Layla. Time to play the hero in shining armor, “Don't worry with that, we will take care of it.”

Frowning, you were the one to respond, “Do you work for the police now or?”

“Are implying that we investigate it by ourselves?” Your best friend added.

Dean couldn't believe his brother. How the fuck did he let them get inside without saying they didn't know about the hunting business? It was a luck shot that they didn't think much when he said Samia.

“Nope. Not you two. We will do it.” The blonde one said, pointing at them with a smirk.

“I agree, we will do it.” Layla replied, matching his taunt smile.

“Sam, I'm not letting you and your brother do it by yourself. Jorge was my professor, I knew him. Besides, we found the body.” You got on your feet and crossed your arms, waiting for a response. Sam always had a sort of hero complex, ready to help no matter what, but there was no way you'd be letting him go into danger with his brother. Getting in your dormitory to kill a cockroach back then or facing an idiot during a bar fight to protect one of your friends was something, but this? They were talking about looking for an assassin. What if something happened to him? You were the one who called. All on you. The thought of Sam getting hurt for any reason was unbearable, but because of you? You weren't willing to do that.

“You would be in danger, (Y/N). You both.” He tried to explain, internally hoping you'd accept his reasoning and let it go. Sam didn't want you to become one of the friends who knew about this life, you deserve more. He already lost one woman he loved in this city, he couldn't lose another.

You huffed in frustration, “Just like you will!”

“It's different.” As he was terrified of, you insisted. Arms crossed still and eyes locked with his, determined to get something from him. Sam was smart enough to know that you would keep it going. Perhaps he could give you a short explanation, “Me and my brother, we are used to this. We hunt things like that.”

Layla tilted her head to the side. The way Sam talked remembered her of animal hunting, although she highly doubted that was the case, “Little more explanation?'”

“Monsters are real. Vampires, werewolves, spirits. The list goes on. Call us crazy. Roll the credits.” Sarcasm saltered every word of Dean's as he gestured up and down with a cocky smile. Everyone glared at him, a special furious look from his brother, “What? I thought they knew what we did and that's why she called.”

“Sam?” Your voice was fragile when you said his name, a demonstration that you would believe him through the fear of the truth, but that he had to say it.

Sam laid his hazel eyes on you. God, how he wished he didn't have to confirm anything, to break your vision of world so abruptly, “Dean is right. Supernatural things are real. I know it sounds--”

“Unbelievable? Problematic? Scary?”

“Yeah, all of them.” Sam offered you a humorless smile, then holding your hand the way he used to when you were nervous about an exam, “But I wouldn't lie to you, cupcake.”

The silence was broken by Layla opening a bottle of Whiskey, pouring them for the three people in the room besides herself. You rolled your eyes at your best friend, while Sam wore a tiny smile and Dean was astonished.

Noticing the eyes glued, the latina just shrugged “What? If you are gonna tell me that Dracula is real and you are a sort of Buffy's apprentice, then we will need some alcohol.”

“Why did you call?” Sammy asked, his brows knotted together, mouth slight open as he waited for your response. “You didn't know what I did. And he wasn't my professor at Stanford. Then why did you call, (Y/N)?”

You could make up a hundred excuses. Lie and say he was the one friend besides Layla that you had somehow a way to get to. Appeal to the excuse of 'I felt something weird about the death and you said I should call if I ever had a problem of any kind'. But for as much as you felt horrible for using a death as a pretext for calling him, that was partially the truth. You already had put yourself into a mess of monsters and a drained heart, it couldn't be scarier than being honest to Sam and to yourself.

At least, you hoped so. But your heart was rushing like when you saw Jorge's body. Jesus, when did love become so morbid?

You took a deep breath, oxygen barely achieving your lungs, and then started to talk.

“I wanted to call you the minute that you left, Sam. I almost did a million times.” You answered, looking down at the bottle of a sort of plant that he was putting in a dark green bag. “I thought about what you could be doing, what was so important that you couldn't send me a message. But you just didn't want to call, I guess.”

“I wanted to call, of course I did.” You scoffed at his statement, looking up to match his eyes, “(Y/N), I'm serious.”

“You didn't even come to Jess' funeral, Sam. Layla said that maybe you needed to leave to clear your mind, that was too much to deal with. But I was so worried, and sad and confused and I wanted to talk to you because you would understand, you always did. About anything. And I wanted to give you some sort of comfort, but--” You lifted your hands and shrugged your shoulder, a broken chuckle leaving your body. “But you weren't here.”

“You stopped leaving messages after two weeks. Calling was gone when it made a moth.” You sniffed. Sam's lips curved into a pure, cautelous grin. God, he was always so sweet. “The emails took two months.”

“You were never good with dates. I gave you a calendar in your freshman week.” Your teeth met your lower lip. He didn't answer, only nodding at your affirmation, omitting the fact that he still had the calendar between latin books and pieces of newspapers, “Yet, you remember all of it.”

Sam leaned forward, holding your hand with all the delicacy you would expect from a sculptor. It had been too long since he hugged you, and his touch made all your skin tickle with warmth. “I missed you too, (Y/N). I thought about you all those years.”

“So, Cupcake?”

"Let's focus on the case, Dean."

“Then you can go back and eat your cupcake?” He remarked with a grin. His brother just huffed, pointing the flashlight through the trees, “So, Layla…”

Sam rolled his eyes, like he usually did when Dean started being too Dean for his liking, “Dean. The case.”

Before he could make another teaseful comment, a roar invaded their audition. The hunters gave each other a quick glance before heading towards the direction of the noise.

Shaking the salt and rosemary mixture in his hands, Dean smirked, “That's it. Time to shine, cupcake.”

“I have to admit. Being patched up by a doctor is better than by Dean.”

A surprised, half relieved laughter came out your body as you finished another stitch on Sam's arm. That boy was unbelievable; openly talking and making jokes about his brother, who was also being patched up by your best friend in company of a bottle of whiskey, while he spoke about Layla's name being a rock song. You were working on a large wound on his shoulder-- which you were sure that was full of dirt from the forest.

Medicine student, but I'll take that complement.” You winked at him, gaining a soft grin from Sammy, “I was expecting more blo-- Why are you smiling? I'm touching a recent wound. It doesn't look dangerous, but I'm sure it is supposed to hurt. A lot.”

Sam's answer came out easily, the bare, vulnerable truth: “I'm happy you are here.”

You looked at him, his hair longer than before, but the soft simper remained on his face. You bit your lip to hold a giggle; her heart dared to hope. What he expected when he said things like this? A quiet contentment spread through his expression while he watched your reaction.

“You should have come home sooner.”

His mouth formed a line, “I don't have a home, (Y/N). It's just Dean, me and the road now.”

“No, Sam.” Shaking your head lightly, you intertwined your fingers with his. His life was dangerous, you couldn't afford the luxury of waiting even more to share what you had finally admitted to yourself in the moment he walked through the door. It didn't seem like the easiest, simpler situation. But the only hard thing you couldn’t go through was to be away from Sam Winchester. He lingered on you for years, you were done letting him run away. It was time to hold his hand and walk together. “You should've come home sooner. To me.”

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sweetiejunie · 4 years ago

Text

It’s Because I Love you

Summary: Soobin dug himself into a hole and needed his bestfriend to help him out

Genre: Fluff, Friends-to-lovers, Slow-burn(ish)

Word count: ~10k (oops sry)

💕 Requested

A/n: to the anon that requested this. I’m so sorry this took me forever... haha~ I hope you liked it! And writing this actually reminded how much i like writing these. Do you guys prefer these kind of longer fics or the shorter reaction type fics?

Warnings: Some swearing

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

“Y/n i fucked up.”

Was first line that came out of soobin’s mouth when you opened the door. It wasn’t unusual for soobin to randomly show up at your place. But you really weren’t expecting his presence today, since you knew he would be busy packing to head home for the week break. You were about to greet him but before you could say anything, he beat you to it, his sentence laced with regret and panic. “What did you do this time?” You answered, “aren’t you supposed to be packing?” “I- excuse you what do you mean ‘this time’?” He mocked. “Okay, whatever, we’ll get back to that and yeah, i am, but I fucked up real bad,” he repeated. “Huh?” You took a step back so soobin could enter. “Are you alright? What happened?” “So you know how all my cousins and sibling are in a relationship right?” Soobin continued, making his way to your couch to sit down. Resting his head back against the cushions as he groaned. “Yeah, what about it?” Tilting your head as the conversation got more confusing by the second. You closed the door behind you before joining him. “Well... my brother just called me and may have been bothering me about being the only one that isn’t in a relationship...” he trailed off, “and erm, i may have said i... had a girlfriend. And now my family wants met her.” You couldn’t help but burst out laughing at his confession, “you did what? You really dug yourself into a hole this time.” Soobin was the youngest of his family. He was always the one that chose to focus more on his grades than actually making friends. Sure, he went to parties and drank every now and then, but other than that, he rarely did anything short of the ‘perfect son’. But despite all his efforts, there was always one thing his sibling could tease him about, and that was the fact that he was 21 and has never been in a relationship. Soobin always tried to not let this bother him, but i guess today, he just snapped. “I really did,” he sighed. “That’s why i need your help.” “How can i possibly help you out of this, soobin?” you ridiculed, glaring at him. “You do know that you’re one of my only friends, right? Meaning, I won’t be able to find anyone to play girlfriend with you.” “Um, actually about that... i kind of told my family that my girlfriend goes to the same school as me and studies the same major as me. I also kind of told them that she has y/e/c eyes and y/h/c hair.” He sat up, looking for a reaction from you. Instead, all he saw was your blank expression, staring back at him. “Yeah so, if you hadn’t caught on yet, i might have, sort of, just described you to my family.” Your eyes widened at his statement, you weren’t sure what to reply. You met soobin all the way back in high school, and you’ve stayed friends ever since — 5 years, 11 months, 23 days, to be exact. Not that you were keeping count or anything. You remember the first day you approached the shy boy, the new transfer student sitting at the back alone. He was the first friend you made there. And to makes things worse, you’ve had a crush on him, but you knew better than to confess and possibly ruin the friendship. You’ve suppressed all your feeling since then. Maybe. Probably. Okay, no. But you’ve tried. And all this talk of ‘pretend girlfriend’ did nothing but make your heart start racing again. “Why on earth would you do that!” “I dont know! You were the first person that came to mind! So are you okay with doing me the favour of playing the role of my girlfriend?” Soobin said with a slight pout and puppy dog eyes. A move he knew you could never refuse, “You’re free this break, right?” His sudden confession was like a blow to your heart. The first person that came to his mind... but it’s probably just because he didnt have many female friends, right? “Erm...” you paused. The more you thought about his proposition, the more you found yourself weighing the consequences. “Come on y/n. Please? We already get engaged every other week at clubs for free drinks. This won’t be that much different.” “Would your family believe it? I mean, it’s me.” “Sure they will. And it’ll be easy to fake it since you already know me.” You paused for another second before replying. “Hm, right. Fine. But you owe me. Do i have to bring anything?” You were helping out a friend. A friend. Nothing more, nothing less. “Nope, just bring enough clothes. You don’t need anything too fancy,” he stood up, leaning down to give you a quick hug. As he walked towards the door, he looked over his shoulder before leaving your apartment. “Thanks for doing this, i really owe you. I’ll pick you up at 7 tomorrow after our classes, alright? See you then.”

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After an hour, three outfit changes and completely unpacking and repacking your luggage twice, you were finally satisfied and ready to go. It was only a weeks worth of clothes in a small luggage, yet, you still found a way to overthink it. In the end, you had settled for a simple tee with jeans and a coat to keep you warm for the ride. Already, you were beginning to regret your decision of going along with this whole ‘fake girlfriend’ act. It had nothing to do with soobin or his family. They were absolutely wonderful, his parents were kind, his siblings were fun and sweet and his baby nephew was, well, a baby. The only problem was what if your heart liked the idea of being his ‘girlfriend’ just a little bit too much? You had met his siblings and parents a handful of times when they visited him at his apartment. They’ve always been nothing but nice to you, and now, you were going to have to lie to them. The more you thought about it, the more your mind was playing angel and devil with you. On one hand, you didn’t want to spend the weekend being dishonest and possibly screwing up the image soobin’s family had of you. But on the other, you wanted to be selfish and be able to call soobin yours, even if it were just for a few days. You sighed quietly, sitting in your living room waiting for soobin to pick you up like he said he would. The entire day you had been unable to focus in your classes, whatever your lectures said just going right through your head. At this time on fridays, you would normally have found soobin dressed in any lounge wear he had, crashing at your place to watch whatever movie he found that week. But now, you were going to find him dressed up, ready to bring you to meet his parents. The relationship sure escalated quickly. Just as your mind started drifting further, your doorbell rang. “U ready?” Soobin’s signature eye smile greeted you, his front bunny teeth exposed. You’ve always noticed how soobin’s appearance resembled that of a bunny, but no matter how many times you tried to tell him, he didn’t want to believe it. “As ready as ill ever be,” you returned the smile, grabbing your luggage and locking your front door. Well, this was it, no turning back now. Helping you with your things, soobin lead you to his car and started the journey. It was only about a 3 hour drive and a car ride proved to be a great distraction. You hadn’t been to soobins hometown before, so being able to look out the window and see the scenery was no doubt better than sneaking glances at soobin in the drivers seat. You just knew that if you saw soobin, with one hand on the steering wheel, and the other propped on the arm rest, you might have gone into cardiac arrest. The ride was quiet for the most part, that was until soobin pulled up at a red light. “I made a playlist,” soobin flipped his phone around to show you and connect it to his car. “It’s like, if you were my real girlfriend, this would be the playlist i would share with you.” You couldn’t help but smile when you realised how sweet soobin would be in an actual relationship. His future girlfriend is really lucky. But you had to control yourself, reminding yourself that it’s all just pretend for the week. “I’m sure its great. You have great taste in music,” you faked a laugh. “Um... so... soobin? How exactly are we supposed to fake this? I mean, what we supposed to do? What will your family do?” “Oh...” he started, his eyes focusing back on the road, the lights turning green again. “To be honest, i haven’t actually thought about that part yet.” Drumming his fingers on the steering wheel as he thought. “Mmm, when my brother first brought his girlfriend home, my family teased him a lot, just to make fun of him and get her reaction. But they already did that with you whenever they visited me so... I’m not sure what they’ll do, honestly.” “Oh...” That was completely unhelpful. Pulling your knees to your chest, you continued staring blankly out the window. “Hey, don’t worry too much okay? We’ll just wing it like we do everything else. And that’s worked out for us so far, right?” Soobin chuckled, trying to comfort you. “As for what we need to do. I guess it’ll just be all that couple stuff like holding hands and hugging. And you’re already such a cuddly person, that shouldn’t be a problem for you. We got this, alright? And I’ll be with you the entire time.” You nod a response, “yeah, we got this.” On the outside, you tried to seem cool and composed. On the inside however, you were a mess. Sure, you and soobin already had your fair share of cuddles when he showed up for a movie night at your place. And on the days he was too lazy to go back to his dorm, you would find him whining and groaning for you to make him breakfast the next day. But now you were expected to act that way in front of his family? That was a whole new level of stress you didn’t think about when you agreed to this. After a while more of driving, it was a little over 10pm when soobin finally pulled up alongside the curd in front of his house. The remainder of the car ride had been relatively silent, except for the playlist that soobin had made for you, and the occasional mindless singing you would start that turned into a carpool karaoke. Getting off, soobin unloaded his and your luggage and lead you to the front door. Probably noticing your nervous state, soobin grabbed your shaking hands. “I’m right here alright?” He smiled, “it’s show time.” With that, he rang the doorbell. And not 15 seconds later, soobin’s sister answered the door. “Soobin!” She greeted, pulling him into a hug, “we’ve been waiting for you and- oh! Y/n! I knew it. Same major, y/e/c eyes, y/h/c hair. If it wasn’t you, i was about to kick his ass.” “Hah, yeah, surprise?” You said, the last part sounding more like a question than a sentence. “Aish, this boy. The previous night on the call, he just told us he’ll be bringing his girlfriend home, gave us a description but never told us who. Left us all to wonder who she was and well,” she chuckled, putting an arm around soobin’s shoulders, “if she even existed. I’m glad it’s you, the first time we met you, i already knew you two would end up together.” “Wait, so you all took guesses on who it was?” Soobin chimed in, shooting a glare at his sister. “Well, yea! All of us pretty much guessed y/n. Except for mom though, she’s kept quiet about it. But i guess it was just because she didn’t want to get her hopes up.” Looking at soobins annoyed expression, you laughed. Shrugging of his sisters arm, soobin grabbed both your luggage, pushing past his sister and pulled them into the house. “Alright, alright, just let us in already, its freezing out here.” “It’s nice to see you again y/n,” his sister said as she held the door open for you. “Likewise.” You smiled before stepping in. You’d never been to soobin’s house before. Sure, you’ve seen bits and pieces of it when the two of your FaceTimed over the holidays, but never in person. In the hallway where you stood, were the stairs that you presumed lead to the bedrooms. Sporadically placed were a few house plants that looked as if they had been watered quite recently. The walls were littered with family photos, and most noticeably, soobin’s baby pictures. You smiled looking at them, taking a mental image of the cute, little baby this giant once was. Closing the door behind you, soobins sister spoke, “you guys wait here. I think mom and dad are in the living room. I’ll go get them.” As you saw her silhouette disappear towards one of the entries, you felt the nerves building up again, “soobin...” you tilted you head up to look at him, your face portraying nothing but worry. “Don’t worry okay?” Taking your hand in his, gently squeezing for reassurance.“ Just follow my lead and pretend you’re in love with me. Which should be easy since I’m your favourite person,” he joked, in attempts to lighten your mood. ‘Pretend to be in love with him’. Okay, shouldn’t be too hard, considering the fact that you actually were in love with him and spent years pretending not to be. “Yea, alright.” Letting go of your hand, soobin walked forward to hug his parents when he saw them approaching. “Soobin, we were starting to wonder how long more you would take,” his mom said. “How are you? How’s everything at school?” “Everything’s fine,” he replied. Turning to you, he held out his hand for you to take. “Mom, dad, you know y/n.” Accepting his hand, you stepped forward to greet his parents. Just hoping that your nervous trembling wasn’t too obvious to the naked eye. “Ah of course! How could we ever forget,” his mom smiled. “We always knew the two of you would end up together eventually. He’s always been so obvious about you,” his dad added, causing blood to rush to your cheeks, and soobin to immediately retaliate. “Dad! Stop it. No i have not!” You looked around at him just in time to see him cross his arms and roll his eyes, cheeks pink and eyes shining. He met your eyes and looked away, but the grin on his face never faltered. Hitting her husbands arm, soobins mom scolded, “aish, stop teasing them, they just got here. Speaking of which, have you two eaten?” “No we havent, actually. We came right after school,” soobin answered. “In that case, you can take yours and y/n stuff up to your room and get settled in. I’ll order some food for you. Pizza sound okay?” his mom spun soobin around, pushing him back to where your luggage laid. “His room?” You thought out loud. Of course they were expecting you to share a room with soobin. What else could you have possibly thought. “Of course his room,” his mom answered, “you have known each other for such a long time. And i have no doubts there are days that soobin stayed over at your apartment instead of his dorm anyway. There’s no way I’m letting you sleep on the couch.” With that, you and soobin grabbed your things and headed up to his room. Sure, the nights soobin stayed over you have shared a bed before. But this time, it just felt different. Even though everything was still purely platonic, the element of you being in his home, pretending to be his girlfriend, was still no doubt intimidating. “See? That wasn’t so hard, was it?” Soobin asked rhetorically, snapping you out of your thoughts. He laughed, clearly taking the whole situation a lot lighter than you were. Opening the door to his room, it was exactly how you pictured it when he called you. You stood at the doorway, it seemed so familiar, yet unknown at the same time. His bed in the corner of the room with a few pillows and plushies, at the other end, his desk and wardrobe filled with clothes he left behind. His walls were mainly bare, except for one that had a few old polaroids hanging loosing from the ceiling. It felt weird being there. “Well, don’t just stand there,” soobin grabbed your luggage from you, pulling you in to the room so he could close the door behind you and crashing down on his bed. “First, let me give you the official welcome to mi casa. My family is a lot, but you already knew that. Make yourself at home.” “Honestly, i cant believe they bought it so easily,” you let out, taking a seat next to him. “Told you they would. My family probably loves you more than they love me.” You laughed halfheartedly, still feeling a bit awkward about the whole thing. “We should clean up before we head back to the wolves den for dinner. The bathroom is right down the hall to the right. You can go first, ill clear a drawer for you,” he offered. You nod, gathering your things for the night. This is all just pretend.

————-————-————-————-

The shower definitely helped calm you down a bit. You loved the warmth of the water against your skin. “It’s just for a week. Dont get used to it,” you muttered to yourself. Getting out, you quickly dressed yourself in a tshirt and some shorts. The normal attire you wore to sleep, anything else was always just uncomfortable for you. “You’re turn,” you announced when you entered soobins room again. “That was quick. Here, take one of my sweaters.” “What for?” You shot him a look, raising brow. It wasn’t as if you hadn’t stole his hoodies before, it was just the fact that he was offering it this time. “You’re supposed to be my girlfriend, aren’t you? Girlfriends always take their boyfriend’s clothes.” Fishing a plain, red sweater out from his wardrobe, he threw it in your direction, hitting you directly in the face and causing you to yelp a little. “Besides, you already take all my hoodies. This is no different,” he continued, eyeing you as you pulled it over your head. As usual, soobin’s clothes were huge on you. And this sweater was no doubt oversized, even for him. “How do i look?” You looked to him when you didn’t get a reply. But this only caused him to turn away from you quickly, mumbling something to himself before answering, “it’s my clothes, it’ll look great on everyone.” Scrambling to gather his things, he left for his shower. You could have swore you saw him blushing when he was looking at you. But you brushed it off as your overactive imagination. You decided to swiftly blow dry your hair before laying on his bed, scrolling through your phone while waiting for him. You were hungry, practically starving, but there was no way in hell you were going to face his family again on your own. With your new status, god knows what they would do or say. A mere 15 minutes go by before you hear the door open again. Revealing a damp haired soobin, dressed in a white tee and sweatpants. A simple look you have seen many times over the years, but one that still made your head and thoughts hazy. “Ready to go down?” He spoke, smirking at you, almost knowingly, “I’m starving.” “Ye- yeah,” gathering your thoughts, bringing yourself back to reality.

————-————-————-————-

Dinner with the family wasnt all that bad. Sure, there was the occasional teasing and questions. But that was to be expected. Any parent would have been curious, right? You let soobin take the lead on most of those. You didn’t want your cover to get blown by having any clashing answers. Once in a while you would feel soobin grab your hand under the table when he needed your help, but for the most part, they were the basic questions like “since when?” Or “who confessed first?”. The usual relationship stuff, nothing too hard. And it was a lot easier with the fact that it was you and soobin, the two friends that have mastered the art of bullshitting your way out of situations. At the end of the day, the awkwardness ended soon after it started. With it being past midnight, Soobin’s family had long gone to bed, leaving you two alone in the dimly lit kitchen to finish up your dinner, which had quickly became supper. “So, how was day one of being my girlfriend?” He looked over to you, munching on another piece of pizza. Even in that horrible lighting, he still managed to take your breath away. No one could possibly look good with dull, ugly, yellow kitchen lighting, but somehow, he did. The way the soft light bounced off his skin, partnered with the reflection in his eye that gave that perfect shine to them. You were sure you looked horrid next to him. “Mmm, it’s alright i guess,” you teased, earning a pout from soobin. “You big baby. I’m just kidding,” nudging him on the shoulder, causing you both the laugh. You didn’t know why this question surprised you as much as it did. Maybe you wanted to flip the tables, or maybe you just weren’t expecting the answer he gave. “So how was day one of having me as your pretend girlfriend?” He thought about it for a second before facing you and speaking. “Honestly, it’s been fun. Even though we haven’t done much. But then again, i always knew you would be great girlfriend to someone one day.” ‘Someone’. If only you could tell him how much you wanted that someone to be him. If only you had the guts to say what’s was on your mind. “Want to play some music?” Breaking the silence, soobin picked up his phone, quickly scrolling through his playlists before stopping on one he named ‘midnight’. “It’s just some chill songs i found that i thought would be nice to listen to at night.” The playlist started and the first song to play was ‘what falling in love feels like’. “Oh, i love this song,” you mindlessly stated between bites. “Really?” Soobin replied. “I never heard you listen to classical music.” Your eyes widened slightly when you realised what you said. You didn’t just listen to classical music. You’ve also imagined what it would be like to slow dance to it. “I never really told anyone... but i always wanted to dance with someone to this song. It’s kind of embarrassing to admit,” you trailed off, the surface of the counter suddenly becoming more interesting. The dead of night had you confessing unspoken words. There was another second of silence. You could feel soobin’s stare on your face. He was judging you. You were sure of it. Now you were just mentally preparing yourself for a laugh- “Let’s dance.” “What?” You weren’t expecting that. You shot your head up, seeing his outstretched hand. “Let’s dance,” he repeated. You reached for his hand, but didn’t grab it. You were hesitant. Never would you have thought you’d be slow dancing with your crush — of over 3 years, in the kitchen of his childhood home — at midnight. He held you hand, helping you to stand before twirling you into his arms. He lead your hands around his neck and his around your waist. You fell in step, letting the rhythm control your movements. Your eyes gazing into his brown, glistening ones, a soft smile on his face. It felt like a dream. Your surroundings and any other disturbances dissolved. It was just you and him. Right here, right now. You stayed like that, dancing. Everything felt just... perfect. “You know i’d never judge you right?” He said, his eyes watching your expressions closely. “I know that’s what you were thinking earlier.” You looked away, unable to find the right words. Soobin always had a way to read you so easily. Every once in a while he would remind you how expressive your face was. And you were certain a blush had crept to your cheeks when you heard soobin chuckle. “You silly girl. You can tell me anything. You know that. After all, you are my best friend.” “Right... best friend,” you offered a small smile to mask the resignation in your words. And just like that, the song ended. Soobin let go your waist. Leaving nothing the ghostly feeling of where his hands once were and the sensation of having his body so close to yours. “It’s nearly 1am. We should go to bed soon,” he nodded towards the clock on the stove. “You can head up first. I’ll clean up here and join you in a bit.” You nodded. Once you were back in his room, you crashed on his bed. Regret and agony the only things left for you to feel. Why did you agree to this. You knew it would be hard. But not this hard. You rolled over to your side of the bed. And true to his word, soobin entered shortly after. Climbing under the covers with you, poking your side when you paid no attention to him. You jumped, immediately facing him. “What was that for!?” “Nothing,” he laughed. “It’s just fun to do that to you. I have a fun day planned tomorrow, so get up early. Good night y/n.” “Good night, asshole.” You scoffed.

The next morning you woke up to a post-it on your head. You tore it off and looked around the room but soobin was nowhere to be seen. You groaned, sitting up to stretch and read the note. ‘Wake up sleepyhead. Come to the kitchen for breakfast.’ Oh, how you wished the entire night before had been a dream. But alas, it wasn’t. Pulling yourself out of bed, you cleaned yourself up and descend the stairs. The smell of fresh pancakes engulfing the entire house. “Good morning y/n,” soobin’s dad greeted you when you entered the kitchen. “Grab a seat. Breakfast is almost done.” “Your dad cooks?” You whispered as you pulled out the stool next to soobin. “Mainly breakfast. But yes,” he whispered back. Soobin’s dad placed a plate in front of each of you. 3 pancakes a piece, and more to come. “Butter or maple syrup?” “Both,” soobin smugly answered. “And you y/n?” “Ill have both as well, thanks,” you smiled before facing soobin. “Where’s your mom and sister?” “My mom went to the store. And my sister doesn’t get up till later.” Soobin grabbed the syrup his father had just put on the table and poured a generous amount. His attention was fully on his food. You couldn’t help but grin at his childlike manner. He always loved breakfast. Or any dish that can be both sweet and savoury actually. You both enjoyed your breakfast, watching soobin’s father flip pancakes, cheering when it landed, and messing around while cooking as your morning source of entertainment. “The pancakes are really good, mr choi,” you complimented. “Why, thank you y/n. You always have been such well mannered,” he said. “Hopefully some of that will rub off on my son soon.” “Hey! I am well mannered,” soobin retorted. “Oh, really now,” you taunted, giving him a look of disbelief. Soobin tsked, lightly pushing you over. “Okay, whatever. Anyways, hurry up. I’m going to show you around town today.” “You two don’t come back too late now,” his father added. “And bring a coat, it’s supposed to get colder today.” Stuffing down the remainder of his food, soobin linked your arms and dragged you out of the kitchen the moment he saw your plate empty. “Hey! I’m not done yet, i wanted one mo-!” “Bye dad!” Soobin interrupted, ignoring your plea.

————-————-————-————-

“So much being well mannered.” You mocked. “Not my fault you wanted to eat so much,” he shrugged. Both of you strolled along the road. You weren’t sure where soobin was bringing you, other than his aforementioned ‘town’. Despite it just being the two of you, soobin still dressed nicely, in a turtleneck and scarf with a black coat to go over it. “Wait...” you started, noticing a passing sign. “Why does that say the town is the other way?” “Cause i changed my mind. I’m bringing you somewhere else,” he replied, shooting you one of his, oh so charming, eye smiles. “I’ll bring you to town another day.” “This way’s to the forest,” you raised an eyebrow. “Are you planning to kill me or something? After 6 years of friendship. This is how you want to end it?” You dramatically gripped your chest and joked. “I’m sorry for whatever i did. I can change, I swear.” Soobin rolled his eyes and guffawed. “Of course. This has been my plan all along. To befriend you then brutally murder you among the trees where no one can find your body,” he played along. “Relax, I’m no murderer. An avid liar? Maybe. But not a murderer. I just want to show you something.” You hummed a response and continued on your way. Not long after, soobin was leading you down a path in the deserted forest. As the path reached deeper into the woods, the trees got denser. “Erm, soobin, where are we going?” You called from behind him. “I’m really starting to question the whole murder thing.” You’re not going to lie when you say the woods kind of crept you out. You could have sworn you felt someone behind you. But when you turned around, there wasn’t a soul. The twigs and dead leaves making a deafening crunch under your feet as the — seemingly never-ending — journey continued. “Just trust me,” he provided a simple answer that proved to be of no help in ensuring you. As you continued, the sound of snapping twigs got louder. You turned the corner and the sudden sound of birds fleeing their nest startled you, causing you to jump and grab soobin’s coat from the back. “Are you really that scared?” He laughed. “Don’t worry,” he continued, turning around and reaching for your hand. Gently running his thumb over yours the rest of the way. “We’re almost there. It’s worth it, i promise.” Having his hand in yours definitely provided some comfort. But it was also making you feel things that you shouldn’t be feeling. After another minute of walking, you finally saw the light at the end of the tunnel. The horrid crunching sound had been washed out by the sound of, well, rushing water. A waterfall. You gasped in astonishment at the clarity of the Caribbean-blue waterfall. It was spurting over the basalt rock, spilling eel-like over the ledges. Its clamorous passage at the foot of the mountain threw up bubbles of spray. They sparkled uneasily in the beams of light that shined through the leaves of surrounding trees. When it toppled into the ecstasy-pool, it foamed it at the bottom. The rest of the pool was as clear as cellophane, allowing you to see down into the rocky bottom. Fronds of forest-green plants waved gently in the depths. The waterfall looked like a sheet of blue velour as it swished down. Its edges were hemmed with whipped-white lines. “Wow,” was all you managed to utter out. “I told you it was worth it,” soobin grinned. “Come on.” He lead you closer, collapsing on the bank and letting the nougat sweet smell of flowers wash over him. You followed suit. “How did you find this place?” “A friend of mine showed it to me when we were kids.” He said, leaning back against his palms. “We used to hang out all the time here. The five of us. That is, until i moved away for high school. “I wonder what they’re up to now.” He added after a slight pause. “You don’t see them when you come back for the holidays?” You asked. Soobin shook his head. “I don’t get to see them much anymore. I barely leave my house, y/n, you know that. Besides, they’re all busy with their own lives.” You listened to soobin reminisce about his childhood. You would listen to soobin talk for hours if you could. His words are were like gold to you, or perhaps some elixir you’ve been waiting all your days to hear. He had nothing but good things to say. It sounded like he had a lot of fun here, in the small town he grew up in. You both sat there for a while, gawking at the waterfall when the suddenly rustling of the bushes behind you caught your attention. “Y/n,” soobin stood up, holding you behind him as the rustling got louder. And then a figure walked through, a boy. He was wearing a brown furry jacket. His hair was a strange shade a pink, but it complimented his skin tone nicely. “Soobin?” The boy said, folding his arms. “No way. Is that actually you? Mr choi soobin. After all these years.” “Yeonjun?” Soobin replied, letting go of you and walking up to yeonjun. “What are you doing here?” “I was on my way out and thought i saw you earlier entering the forest so i decided to follow you. Who else knows this place anyway?” Yeonjun laughed, swinging an arm around soobin’s shoulder. “So you practically followed, what could have been, a complete stranger into the forest?” Soobin shot him a look. To that, yeonjun just smiled and nodded. “You never change, do you?” “Nope,” yeonjun answered confidently. “Anyways, are you going to introduce me to the pretty lady or do i have to do that myself?” He gestured a smile towards you. Beside him, soobin stiffened, his jaw slightly tensing before he answered. “Right... Yeonjun, y/n. We met in high school, she’s my best friend. Y/n, yeonjun. He was one of my friends i was telling you about-” “Yeah, until this bastard moved, changed his number and practically became a hermit that never left his house much.” Yeonjun jibed. “Hmm, that sounds about right. The only place I’ve seen him, other than class or the library, is at my apartment binge watching shows,” you added, causing yeonjun to burst out a laugh. “You guys are mean.” Soobin grumbled, pushing yeonjun’s arm off him. “I have a feeling she and i are going to be great friends.” Yeonjun said matter-of-factly. The three of you sat there, talking for what seemed like hours. Soobin and yeonjun continued to tell you about the different adventures they had together as kids with their friends, beomgyu, kai and taehyun. They recounted all the accidents that happened, all the fun moments they had together. Yeonjun eventually proceeded to tell you about all the embarrassing soobin stories he could think of, sharing jokes and making you laugh. The entire time though, soobin barely directed any conversation at you. Let alone laugh at Yeonjun’s ‘jokes’. As your laughter died down, yeonjun spoke again. “I have to ask though, what’s she doing doing here? Not that there’s anything wrong with it. I’m just curious. Does she live around here too?” You looked to soobin, unsure of how or what to answer. “It’s okay, yeonjun won’t snitch,” he said. “Y/n’s pretending to be my girlfriend for the holiday.” It hurt you every time he said it. In your head you wished so badly for it to be real. To think, by now you would have learnt that wishing only wounds the heart. And each time soobin said it out loud, it was like a punch to the gut. “Pretending to be your-“ yeonjun cut himself off by scoffing. “What for?” “Well....” soobin started explaining the whole situation to yeonjun. To which the only response he got out of the other boy was mockery and disbelief. “Are you serious?!” Yeonjun exclaimed. “So you two aren’t together?” You shook your head. “Oh... good....” he mumbled, grinning in the process. “You have got to be kidding me. But you guys do you, i guess. My lips are sealed. “I hate to ruin the moment but i have to go. It was nice meeting you y/n.” He tipped an imaginary hat. “It was nice to see you again too, soobin. But let know, the next time you’re back.” “Right, ill keep that in mind.” Soobin replied. Just as yeonjun started to walk away, he stopped and turned around once more. “Oh! Right. How long are you guys staying? I’m meeting beomgyu, tae and kai on monday at the diner. You should come,” his eyes travelled to you, “both of you.” “We cant-“ “We would love to!” You cut soobin off, “come on soobin, you haven’t seen your friends in ages. I would be nice to say ‘hi’ again.” Soobin stared at you for a second. Maybe it was the excitement in your face or maybe he truly did want to see his friends again. But in the end he agreed. “Great! Ill see you two monday at 5.” Yeonjun ended, giving a small salute before leaving, for real this time. Soobin went back to the bay, laying down on the grass, letting out a long held sigh. He stared up at the sky that was quickly becoming darker. The stars and moon announcing their arrival. “You alright?” You asked, sitting down next to him. “Yeah, why wouldn’t i be?” He answered, his eyes still closed. “I don’t know. You just seemed... off just now. Like my or yeonjun’s presence bothered you.” “It’s nothing. Im just tired.” He sighed again, sitting up. “While on the subject, we should head back. It’s getting dark.” He stood up and started walking without another word. Was he mad at you? No... he had no reason to be, right? Was he mad about the joke you made with yeonjun? You quickly caught up to him and followed him out of the forest. Other than your footsteps against the concrete road and the cicadas that came out to say their daily greetings, the awkward silence followed the rest of the way. “I’m not annoyed at you, if that’s what you’re thinking,” soobin broke the silence. The entire walk you had your focus on the ground, not noticing the stolen glances soobin took. “Stop sulking. People are going to think i kicked your puppy or something.” He chuckled, bending his waist slight to look at your face. His face was mere inches away from yours. Memories from the previous night came flooding back. You didn’t offer a response, not trusting the words that would escape your lips in that moment. Instead just turning your face to the other side to avoid his stare. Soobin let out a light hearted laugh and continued walking. You recalled how soobin always said you had an expressive face. He must have seen something you didn’t realise. The sky got darker as you continued down the road. The cool winter breeze greeting the concrete and skin just the same, causing you to shiver and wrap your arms around yourself. Mentally cursing the fact that, other than your khaki coat, you didn’t think to wear more layers that morning. Of course, this didn’t go unnoticed. “Are you cold?” Soobin asked, already shedding off his cherry red, wool scarf. “No, it’s alright, you’ll get cold,” grabbing his hands to stop his actions. “I’ll be fine. And we’re only about 5 minutes away,” he argued, wrapping his scarf around your neck. He took your hand, pulling you behind him the rest of the way quickly before you ‘caught a cold’. The scarf sat snug to your skin, soft and gentle, the ends becoming a colourful flag in the wintry winds. It was still warm from where it sat before. You could smell of his cologne on it. Faint, from the day’s activities. But still prominent enough to know it’s existence. Your hands trembled in his and you thanked the cold for that excuse. Burying your face deeper into his scarf before he could make out the slight blush that painted your cheeks. When you reached soobin’s home again, there was a faint chattering echoing through house. “Oh, i think my older sister’s came for a visit.” Soobin’s older sister. The one that’s the account, married, with the baby — soobin’s nephew — and the lovely husband. You’ve only ever met them once, well that, and the occasional pictures soobin would send you of him and his nephew. Seeing soobin with babies did things to your heart thats you didn’t like. You’ve already imagined the unlikely scenario of what it would be like to have soobin as your boyfriend. You can’t go fantasising an entire family as well. But you had to admit, he would make a great dad one day. “Soobin!” His older sister ran and hugged him. He’s always had such a close bond with his siblings. “Mom and dad told me you brought your girlfriend home this time.” She wiggled her eyebrows. “Hey sis. And yeah, y/n. You know her,” soobin turned to you. “Of course. The last time i saw you two I knew you’d end up together.�� She cheered as if she had just won the lottery. So, from what you’ve gathered, soobin’s entire family had always had some hopes on the two of two. You wanted to smile at that fact. But at same time, you were lying to them right now. It was a bittersweet feeling. The remainder of the night went on rather unproductive. You had dinner with his family, chatted with them, played with the baby and that was about it. The worst part came when the family decided to watch a movie together. The movie was great, dont get me wrong. You all sat together and watched kingsman again. Even though it was the tenth time you’ve seen it, it was still yours and Soobin’s favourite. The bad part came when you had to find a seat. The family couch say four, soobin’s mom, dad and sisters. The older’s husband took one of the arm chairs, leaving you and soobin to share the other. In other words, you ended up having to sit on his lap. “I can just sit on the floor, its no problem,” you suggested. “Nonsense. I won’t let you sit on the floor,” soobin rebutted, holding your waist, pulling you back onto his lap. You swear, if it wasn’t for the dimness of the room, the redness of your face would have matched that of the fire place. Throughout the movie you found it extremely hard to pay attention. Soobin had left one of his hands to rest on your knee and the other around your back. Sure, he was probably just putting on a show for his family. But he didn’t have to do the thumb thing as well. Or gently whisper in your ear, so close that you could feel his breath against your neck. The rest of the time you couldn’t help but fidget in your seat — which just so happened to be soobin’s lap. As interesting as the fight scene on screen was or the dramatic music playing, the only thing you could focus on was the fact that soobin’s hand had now traveled to your thigh. And underneath you, soobin’s breathing was becoming short and uneven. He was starting to stir as well before getting up, forcing you to stand and murmuring, “I’m going to head to bed early. You guys enjoy the rest of the movie.” Within the next beat of the soundtrack, he was dashing out of the living room and running up the stairs. What...? You weren’t the only one wondering that. Soobin’s family were now staring at you, his mothers brows furrowed, his sister’s head tilted quizzically. “He said he’s tired,” you blurted, face-palming in your head. Great. You already felt out of place and this certainly wasn’t helping. You sat down on the, now vacant, chair and continued the rest of the movie with his family. I’m sure he’s fine. You can always ask him tomorrow.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

You woke up to an empty bed again. But this time there was no post it note or anything from soobin. So you assumed he’d be in the kitchen like before. “Morning y/n,” it was his older sister this time. “Morning.” You looked around. No sight of soobin. “Where’s soobin?” “Oh he didn’t tell you? He went out for a walk around 20 minutes ago.” Why didn’t he wait for you? “Yeah, he didn’t. Did he say where he was going or when he’ll be back?” You asked. To that, she just shook her head. Oh...

“I almost forgot,” she continued. “There was a note for you. I left it on the counter for you.”

You picked it up, hoping to see Soobin’s name as the regards, telling you his whereabouts. Instead, the note was fairly short.

Hey y/n!

Once again i just wanted to welcome you to town. It was really nice meeting you yesterday! Maybe we could hang out some time?

(Hopefully) Your friend,

Yeonjun

Did Soobin see it? Either way, why does it matter. After breakfast, you decided to wait for soobin to come home. If he didn’t tell where he was going, it means he cant be gone long, right? You sat in his room, figuring it would be the only place you didnt have to face his family members. It was only about an hour and a half of waiting and a lunch break, that you got bored. You could only scroll your phone so much before it started to get more redundant than it already was. So, checking the weather report, you got dressed and left for a walk around. You hadn’t seen much of the area yet, it wouldn’t be harmful to do some exploring. Learning your lesson from yesterday, you put on a wool sweater underneath your coat. A pair of dr marten to match. It was a rather fine day out. You walked under the sun that warmed your skin, but the cool winds keeping the temperature cool enough. The only thing that would make this better would be if soobin were with you... “Y/n!” You heard a familiar voice call from behind you. You turned around and saw a familiar lock of pink hair running towards you, frantically waving his arms. He was wearing a leather jacket today. Behind him was someone else that chased after him. He had nicely styled, bleached blonde hair and was slightly short than yeonjun was. “Oh, hi.” You greeted the two of them. “Fancy running into you again.” “I know, right!” He agreed, a bit more enthusiastically than what you would imagine. “Why are you alone? Where’s soobin?” “No clue. He just took off this morning. Didn’t tell me anything and i got bored of sitting around alone.” “Maybe the pressure of a relationship getting to him,” yeonjun suggested. “It’s fake though,” you mocked. He just shrugged. “Doesn’t make it any less of a commitment.” You hummed a reply. “Fair enough.” “Anyway. If you have nothing better to do... taehyun and i,” he said, gesturing towards to boy beside him, “were just headed to the arcade in town. Care to join us?” “Sure, I don’t see why not.” You followed as yeonjun and taehyun lead you through the town soobin said he would bring you to. Every corner they turned, they greeted someone new. From little kids to elderly ladies and gentlemen. Small town, i guess everyone knew everyone. Eventually, they stopped in front of a building, the arcade. The pings from the pinball machines, the bullets from the shooting games, and the ‘jackpot’ announcements, all a dead give away. From the outside, the building looked old and rundown. The paint was old and cracking as if it hadn’t been repainted in years. Even the neon signs provided to the retro aesthetic, casting a purple-red hue over everything. You stood there, taking in the atmosphere for a second. It sure was different from any arcade you had back in the city. You glanced around, when a figure at one of the pinball machines caught your eye. “Soobin?” You spoke out loud. Confused, yeonjun and taehyun followed your gaze to said figure. “What in the?” You walked up to him. the further into the arcade you went, the louder everything got. Tapping him on the shoulder, you just about had to yell to have any sort of conversation. “Y/n?” He asked, looking at you with the same expression as culprit that had just been caught red-handed. You scoffed playfully, crossing your arms. “So you ditched me to come play games alone?” “Um, kind of? Not really though,” he said. His eyes darting towards the two boys that to came up behind you. “You came with taehyun and... Yeonjun?” “Hey soob, long time no see,” taehyun added. “I went out for a walk and ran into them,” a quick and easy reason. “You could have just told me if you wanted to come to town alone, you know? You don’t have to sneak off at the crack of dawn.” “Nice to see you too tae. And I do want to show you around the town. It’s just,” his eyes travelled between you and yeonjun, back to you in a blink. “I just needed a break from things for a while.” “Hm, alright,” you accepted his explanation, but something still felt weird. “Since we’re already here, there’s no use standing around.” Yeonjun spoke. “Y/n, come play the shooting game with me!” Before you could reply, yeonjun was already dragging you towards one of the machines. Leaving taehyun and soobin to do whatever it was they did. He handed you one of the guns available and scanned his arcade card. The entire time you could feel eyes watching you, but shook it off. Yeonjun was pretty good at the game, you had to admit. He spent a lot of time here, you assumed. Time seemed to disappear the longer you were in the arcade. The atmosphere around you never changed. It was still as lively and colourful as when you first walked in. The bright lights and loud music blasting, disrupting your senses. But outside, the sun was quickly setting. “Good game, y/n,” taehyun offered a handshake after you beat him at yet another game of air hockey. You took it. “Not too shabby yourself.” Beside you, yeonjun and soobin clapped for your victory. “We should probably go back soon,” Soobin said, showing the clock on his phone. It was nearly 8pm. Time sure flies when you’re having fun. You all travelled back together. Turns out yeonjun and taehyun only lived a street away from soobin. “See you tomorrow,” taehyun and yeonjun waved goodbye as you parted ways, leaving you and soobin to go your way. Neither of you said a thing to each other. And for reason you were having trouble thinking of a conversation starter, this hasn’t happened before. Usually you and soobin had endless things to talk about. It didn’t matter how stupid or unimaginable it was, the two of you never ran out of things to say. “When you were a kid, did you ever pretend you were smoking in winter?” You said the first thing that came to mind, the cold air making your breath visible, helping to elaborate your question. You laughed at yourself, holding your fingers up in a peace sign, imagining a cigarette between them. “Yeah, when i was like 7.” Okay, ouch. Soobin’s answer was short, providing no further conversation. You pressed your lips together, stuffing your hands in your pockets as embarrassment crept up on you. So much for never feeling judged. The rest of the night you didn’t speak much. Every attempt you made just being shot down with one liners. Every time you showed soobin a funny video or meme, he gave little to no response. And eventually you gave up. This continued to the following day. Sure, soobin was an introvert. You knew that. But he’s never ignored you to this extent. Was he getting sick of having you around everyday? If that was the case, he should just tell you, you’d give him all the space he needs. You can’t lie and say you weren’t hurt by that thought. Your crush was ignoring you. That would have hurt anyone. And right now, you felt nothing more than a parasite in his home. “Come on, we have to go meet the others,” the first words he’s said to you in hours.

You followed quietly as soobin brought you to the diner. When you arrived, the others were already there. Yeonjun and taehyun, along with two new faces. Beomgyu and Huening Kai, you figured from previous conversations. They sat at a semi-circle booth meant for four with two extra chairs at the end. One of which occupied by taehyun as the other three shared the banquette bench. “Soobin! Y/n!” They waved. Yeonjun sat at one of the ends and shifted when he spotted you enter. “Y/n, i saved you a seat next to me,” he said smugly, smirking and cocking his head to the space beside him. You rolled your eyes at his antics, lips curling upwards. Soobin’s expression remained hard, unbothered and unimpressed even. But you didn’t question it, he’s been like that since yesterday. And frankly, you’ve gotten sick of it. Might as well spend time with someone that actually wants your attention. You got along well with the boys. You learnt that Kai and taehyun went to the same school and beomgyu had just graduated recently. Most of the time though, was spent whispering jokes between yeonjun and yourself. And at some point of the night, he had managed to sneak an around the back of the booth. On the other side, Beomgyu and Kai snickered to each other and eventually shook hands, some bet or deal you presumed. All of a sudden you heard one of the chairs beside you shift. The feet scratching against the tiled floor. And the next thing you knew, soobin was walking out the door, the bell ringing behind him. “Where’s he going?” Kai asked. “No clue,” Beomgyu answered. Taehyun just shrugged. All your attentions still on the door that had already been shut. “Um, ill go check on him,” you announced, running out of the diner after him. Sure, you and him weren’t on good terms at the moment, but nontheless he was still your best friend, and a huge part of you still cared for him. “Soobin, wait!” You called, but he kept walking. “Soobin!” You tried again, chasing after him. “Stop right there choi soobin!” You yelled, your voice echoing through the empty street. The boys silhouette stood still. But never did he turn to look at you. “Dont you dare take another step!” Never once in five years have you ever felt intimidated by him. But with his large figure being illuminated by nothing but the dull, yellow street lights, you couldn’t say that anymore. There was silence as you gathered your thoughts, making your way towards him. You had him right in front of you. Now what? You wanted soobin back. Your soobin. “What’s going on with you?” Your feet stopped on their own accord, right behind the tall boy. “You’ve been acting strange.” No answer. “Soobin, don’t ignore me!” You said again, desperation and annoyance laced in your tone. “I don’t know what you want me to say y/n,” he sighed, trying to keep his temper from exploding. “I want a damn explanation, soobin,” anger from the previous day slowly consuming you. “Do you know how much of an asshole you’re being? God! I try to talk to you, but it’s just like i’m talking to a god damn wall! So, you can either tell me what’s going on or I’m on the next bus home tomorrow.” No answer. But you could tell the last part hit him hard. He couldn’t look at you. If he did, he was sure you would see the remorse and anger in his eyes. He hated that you were mad. He hated that you were yelling. But most of all he hated that he was the cause of it. “You asked me to come play girlfriend with you and i did,” you sighed, continuing when he started walking again. “I only did because,” swallowed the lump in your throat, “you’re... you’re my best friend.” Best friend. “I’m your best friend... you can me anything, you know that.” You quoted his words. “There’s some things better left unsaid,” he offered before walking away again. “I’m sorry y/n.” “No!” You cried, stopping his tracks. “Apology not accepted.” You could see frustration building in soobin. His hand pinching his temple, his shoulders tensed as you spoke. “You said you’d be by my side the whole time! But since the waterfall you’ve barely talked to me! You leave me in situations on my own, you’re ignoring me and you randomly take off without a word. You’re doing it right now! So, again, you can either tell me what’s going on or-“ “It’s because i love you, okay!?” Now it was your turn to stay silent. Soobin let out a sigh, turning to face you. “Is that what you want to hear?! I love you, y/n!” His tone got softer, “I love you so much. For as long as i can remember knowing you. It hurts when I see you with other people. Especially people that so blatantly flirt with you in front of me. You’re stunning, beautiful. Even a fool could see it. But you’re also so much more than that. “You were the only person that bothered to come talk to me the first day of school. Others probably viewed me as the weird, loser kid that sat alone during lunch. But you didn’t. You were my first and only friend for years. Before i knew it, i had a crush on you. At first, i thought it was just a phase. But it wasn’t, y/n. And now, im so hopelessly head over heels for you. “I know, I haven’t earned your heart. I never will. I could spend a million years worshiping you and still not earn it. You’re my best friend, i know I shouldn’t be feeling this way. I know you’re mad at me. And i know I don’t deserve your forgiveness. But please... please, don’t leave me.” He sounded raw, real in a way you’ve never heard before. When he was done, he was closely inspecting the road, afraid to look up. Chewing on his bottom lip nervously, waiting for your rejection. “Why didn’t you tell me earlier?” You asked, keeping emotion from your voice. He shrugged and laughed. “You’re my best friend, I didn’t want to lose you.” You let one hand slide against his cheek, resting your palm there. “You wouldn’t have.” “Wha-“ “I love you too, you doofus.” You felt the pull of a muscle as his lips twitched. “Really?” “Yes. Really. For as long as i can remember.” Soobin, your best friend — now, boyfriend — pulled you into his arms. “I love you, y/f/n. And I’m so sorry for the way I’ve been. What can i say to make you forgive me?” “Words only mean so much. Actions speak louder, don’t you agree?” “I do.” He lowered his head and brushed his lips against yours. “Am i forgiven?” He asked rhetorically. You laugh. “Only because i love you.” “Yes! I told you so!” You turned and saw Kai yelling and celebrating, pointing fingers at beomgyu. Taehyun and yeonjun shaking their heads in disappointment. What a crazy group of friends they were.

#txt post #txt imagines #txt imagine #txt reactions #txt fanfic #soobin fluff #soobin fanfic #soobin imagines

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fluffypeachwriting · 3 years ago

Note

idk if you're still accepting mystery prompts but I have one in mind. (sorry for sending if you stopped accepting and feel free delete this)

Poof! Something happened and all of a sudden Saburo is the same age as Jiro for the three days (or week if you like). How will Saburo react? How do you think his /usual/ arguing with Jiro would go?

-same anon who req. the Hitoya + music sheets. (Ty Tysm for it. Don't forget to take breaks and stay safe! (｡’▽’｡)♡)

Yes, I am still taking mystery prompts, and I’m glad you enjoyed that Hitoya request! (´ ∀ ` *)

This was a lot of fun to write, since it’s interesting to think about how Saburo will grow up. I personally think he’ll get a burst of character development at some point, and his whole holier-than-thou persona will crumble or get tested. I also think that he’ll turn out to be a delinquent just like the other two, maybe not to the same extent though. I think he’ll prefer to do things the way he sees fit, and be less inclined to follow someone else’s rules.

Saburo is very fun to write for, and so I hope you like what I did with this idea!

Saburo woke up, like any other free day, in the afternoon. He yawned at stretched his limbs out, noticing that he had a few more clicks and creaks in his joints than usual. A few twists and turns later took out most of them.

He gave out one last stretch – and winced in pain as he whacked his ankle against the end of the bed. Wincing in pain would be the normal thing to do, but Saburo shrugged it off without thinking, as if this happened every day. Expecting to have slid down the bed in his sleep or something, he craned his head up to look at the headstand, but it was right there.

Like a baby deer struggling to stand for the first time, Saburo wobbled and stood up on lanky legs and stretched his arms up, touching the ceiling. For the first time, he could press his palms flat on the ceiling, whereas usually only his fingers could reach that high. Saburo smiled, pleased that he was actually growing. Perhaps he would grow to be as tall as Ichiro, he thought. It took smaller steps to get over to his door too. He then missed the light switch a few times, though he had been able to do that in the dark easily for years. After slapping the wall a few times, Saburo eventually turned on the light. He didn’t want to think that his body had traded memory for height.

One his eyes adjusted to the light, he noticed that his body wasn’t the only different thing there. His room was largely the same. But largely wasn’t exactly. It wasn’t as if he kept track of all the loose trash in his room, but he didn’t remember having two bento boxes, three ramune sodas, and countless snacks the night before. He knew that his stomach would give him the repercussions.

There was the possibility that this litter had accumulated over a few days, which was the most logical conclusion. However, there was the issue of: what was so important the Saburo had neglected to take care of his bedroom? Being messy was Jiro’s usual crime, and if Saburo was used to doing anything, it was competing with him. Had he given up on being neat and tidy?

Saburo was still too tired to think about it. First, he needed to check himself, on the possibility that he was ill, then get ready to clean up this mess. With tired steps, Saburo made his way to a full-length mirror.

Or, it was supposed to be full length, but for some reason the top of his head was cut off. Assuming that it was just wonky, Saburo got closer and tried to fix it.

However, now that he’d woken up some more and was close enough to see his face, he forgot about the mirror and almost leaped back in shock. It was like there was a different person looking back at him. Saburo was no stranger to all-nighters and sleeping at ridiculous hours, but on this particular afternoon there were dark circles under his eyes which he’d never noticed before.

No, it couldn’t be anyone else. His eyes were the same and he had the same three moles. But his face was slightly longer, and his cheeks slightly less round – the thought of his brothers no longer pinching them crossed his mind, and despite him putting on a displeased face to them, the thought scared him. He didn’t want that to change. He wanted to be the same Saburo that had his hair ruffled when he’d done a good job. But this person had shoulder length hair, with his bangs almost going past his nose.

Contemplatively, he put one hand on his cheek. There was something wrong there too. Until now he was too occupied with his hair to realise that there were patches of stubble on his face. No, that couldn’t be right. There was no hair on his face yesterday, so how could it be this much now? Saburo squinted at his reflection, wondering if he needed to get his vision checked out.

A knock on the door startled him out of this confused haze. Saburo heard from the other side:

“Oi, get up before Aniki gets back unless you wanna get dragged out of bed. It’s almost 3 y’know.”

He was pretty sure that that was Jiro.

Saburo cleared his throat and replied: “Yeah, I’m up.”

Those three words sounded a lot different than he was expecting. Different, in the way that it was significantly deeper than the voice he was used to. He clutched his throat – was he ill?

“You are? Sweet. I’m off to work now so don’t go back to sleep. I won’t be here to wake you.”

He didn’t want to get up and ready for the day. He didn’t want to deal with whatever strange new things were in store for him. There was a lot of things he didn’t want to do, and one of them, surprisingly, was to argue with Jiro. On any other day he’d argue that he wasn’t really asleep for that long, and that Jiro was exaggerating to make him look bad.

“Just five more minutes.” He mumbled, crawling back under the sheets, pulling them over his head.

“Suit yourself, man.” Jiro replied, as Saburo heard him walk away. There was no arguing, no bursting down his door, there was nothing of the sort. Jiro sounded almost… responsible.

The weirdest part was that Saburo still didn’t feel the urge to throw any biting words at him. Was this a new normal? It was calming, in a way. Everything was more stable, and their daily routine had calmed down somewhat.

Wait… Since when did Jiro go to work? Was he talking about a job for Yorozuya Yamada? He must have been, Saburo thought.

His head rested back on the pillow. He knew that he wouldn’t actually be dragged out of bed, the few times where it did happen, Ichiro picked them up out of bed and carried them to the kitchen as the only way to ensure that he would eat breakfast. Thoughts of warm food drowned out everything else, and before he knew it, he fell back asleep.

He woke up and checked his phone. It was midday… but he was sure that Jiro said it was getting close to 3pm. His first instinct was to run his hands through his hair, and he felt an immense weight off his shoulders now that it was back to its short length. His face was as smooth as usual too. He sighed, not even caring if it was a school day or not; he could lie in bed all day bathing in the relief that he as back to his normal self. Saburo didn’t know if it had been a glimpse into the future or a nonsense dream. He hoped it was the latter.

A creak came from his door. Saburo craned his neck up to meet Ichiro’s face.

“Hey, we warned you. Am I gonna have to come in there and drag you out? If you get up within the hour we can go to that new Italian food place you wanted to check out. Okay?” Ichiro acted as if nothing was out of the ordinary – whatever happened must have only happened to Saburo.

“Okay, Ichi-nii.” Saburo rubbed his eyes and threw the covers off. His pyjamas fit normally again.

Though, he was looking forward to growing out of them.

#i may have forgotten about it being for a few days as i was writing this #oopsie!#hypmic #hypnosis mic #saburo yamada #buster bros #mystery prompts

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ibijau · 4 years ago

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*chanting* sangxuan, sangxuan! because I’ve been reminded that I love that ship, have a continuation of that fic where jzx is a very repressed bi with a huge ass crush on nhs

It takes Nie Mingjue about a week to realise that there's something wrong with Nie Huaisang. The first day or two, he blames it on the shock it must be for his brother to have finally graduated from Lan Qiren's classes, and with unexpectedly high grades at that. That success must have given Nie Huaisang one of his sudden short bursts of motivation, and that's why he's suddenly attending sabre practice with the other disciple, and showing up on time for lessons. Those bursts are usually short lived, in Nie Mingjue's experience. Where the sabre is concerned, five consecutive days of hard work is his brother's record.

So on day eight, when Nie Huaisang is still showing up dutifully, still trying his best to get the movements right, Nie Mingjue becomes concerned. When the lesson is over, he asks his brother to follow him to his office so Nie Huaisang can learn how to help with something, as befits a young master of a prominent sect. Normally, this is the time of the day where Nie Huaisang likes to take time to play with his birds, something he's always particularly enthusiastic about right after returning from Gusu. But this time he follows Nie Mingjue with only the briefest of hesitations.

Slowly going from merely concerned to actively worried, Nie Mingjue decides to see how far he can push this before his brother starts acting like himself again. He gives Nie Huaisang a pile of letters to be sorted through by order of importance according to a number of criteria such as the nature of the problem, the rank of the writer, and their physical location. Night Hunting doesn't interest Nie Huaisang, so it is always a bother for him to think about creatures and remember how dangerous any of them might be. He also can't see the point of keeping track of whether a duke or a magistrate is supposed to be given more consideration. As for geography, Nie Huaisang could get lost inside his own bedroom.

And yet aside from a deep, heartfelt sigh upon being given that task, Nie Huaisang doesn't show any reaction. He just picks a chair, makes some space for himself on the side of his brother's desk, and gets to work. Nie Mingjue sits down as well, ostensibly to check some bills, but most of his attention is on his brother who is never this obedient and helpful.

“Alright, what have you done this time?” Nie Mingjue asks after a while.

Looking up from the letter he's studying, Nie Huaisang stares at him with confusion written all over his face. He could pass as perfectly innocent if Nie Mingjue didn't know him better than that.

“Did you get in trouble in Gusu before leaving?” he insists. “Or on the way home?”

“Why would you think I got in trouble?” Nie Huaisang gasps, the very picture of wounded virtue. Nie Mingjue only has to gesture at the pile of letters for his brother to drop the act. “Oh, that. Well. I've decided that I need to become a better person. I can't keep wasting my youth in frivolous pursuits. The young master of a sect must be proficient in martial arts, in cultivation, and know about running an estate. Isn't that what you're always telling me?”

“And you're never listening.”

Nie Huaisang grimaces slightly at the accusation, but nods.

“I have not always been all that I ought to be,” he sighs, rather dramatically. “But I am a changed man.”

“I'm not sure that you can call yourself a man when you're not even eighteen,”

“A changed person,” Nie Huaisang corrects without missing a beat, glaring at his brother. “I need to improve my public image, or else I'll never get to marry.”

Just like that, Nie Mingjue relaxes. Out of every reasons Nie Huaisang might have had to straighten his act, this is the least worrying one. He's the right age to start thinking about that sort of things after all, and he's apparently made a lot of friends this past year in Gusu.

“Do you have someone specific in mind?” Nie Mingjue asks, trying his best to hide his amusement.

“Maybe I do,” Nie Huaisang grumbles after just a moment of hesitation.

“Boy, girl?”

“Does it really matter? You'll let me have however I want, right?”

There's a surprising note of worry to Nie Huaisang's voice, which Nie Mingjue doesn't like in the least.

“I just ask because it'll take more work to convince the parents of your beloved if it's a boy,” he clarifies, and yet his brother doesn't relax at all. If anything, Nie Huaisang starts frowning and bites his lip. “So it's a boy, and the family is stupid about these things,” Nie Mingjue guesses.

Nie Huaisang sighs and flops over the desk, ruining his careful work with the letters.

“It's hopeless, his parents are stupid!”

“Don't badmouth your future in-laws, Huaisang.”

“It's fine, you'll agree with me when you know who it is, and how much they've messed him up.”

That's a worrying statement, but for now Nie Mingjue decides to treat it as a secondary problem. It's hardly the first time Huaisang develops a crush on someone. When he was eight, he wanted to marry Lan Xichen for a few weeks. At thirteen, he threatened to court Wen Qing who he'd seen once at a conference and to run off with her. Nie Huaisang is older and (allegedly) more mature now, but Nie Mingjue prefers to check how serious this is before calculating an auspicious date.

“Well, tell me about him then,” Nie Mingjue demands. “What unlucky bastard caught your eye this time?”

“Bastard no, definitely not,” Nie Huaisang snorts. “Unlucky... yeah. He's... well, first of all, he's handsome.”

“Goes without saying. You're too vain to settle for someone less than stunning.”

Nie Huaisang sticks out his tongue and sits back up so he can slap his brother's arm.

“Rude, very rude. Anyway, he's the most gorgeous person in the world, especially when he laughs. But he sadly doesn't laugh a lot. He's been trained out of it, I think.”

For a brief moment, Nie Mingjue wonders if his brother is in love with Lan Wangji... but no, Nie Huaisang wouldn't dare to call Lan Qiren stupid.

“He's also pretty nice, when you know him,” Nie Huaisang continues, smiling to himself. “He complains a lot, but he'd offer to study with me and he'd really try to help me. And he's serious and righteous. No matter how many times I offered to let him cheat on tests, he'd always refuse because he wanted to succeed through his own work.”

“You set the bar so low,” Nie Mingjue comments, though at least now he knows how his brother got such good grades. It's almost reassuring, in a twisted way. “Doesn't cheat on tests, somewhat nice to you... I'm not really sold on this.”

“I am,” Nie Huaisang retorts, his smile growing a little warmer. “When he looks at me, it's like he's looking at the moon and wondering how he could ever reach it. Like I'm the most incredible person in his life.”

That does sound like something that would appeal to Nie Huaisang's vanity, though Nie Mingjue wouldn't quite call it enough to get married.

“And what do you see when you look at him?”

For a moment, Nie Huaisang falls silent, his expression turning serious. Nie Mingjue is half getting scared that he's made his brother realise how shallow his feelings are, when Nie Huaisang speaks again.

“I see someone I want to make happy and to protect from everything bad,” he announces, a deep frown on his brow. “I see someone who has been hurt, and it makes me hurt as well, because he's so wonderful, and the people who hurt him are the ones who should have protected him, and it makes me so angry that something like that happened to him. I just... I just want to take him away from everyone who's ever made him feel bad about himself, and bring him somewhere safe, and hold him in my arms until he's never afraid again of what others will say about him. Is that... Is that weird?”

Coming from any other Nie, it would be normal, Nie Mingjue thinks. Their family tends to have a protective streak, even toward people who don't quite need it. It's a little odd to hear this coming from Nie Huaisang, but he is a Nie too, so it shouldn't be a surprise that he loves like one.

“So I'm guessing you want for him to marry into the family, rather than you joining theirs?” Nie Mingjue asks.

To his surprise, Nie Huaisang shakes his head.

“Won't work, his parents won't allow it. Damn, they won't be happy with it even like this. But it's... da-ge, I think I'm really in love with him,” Nie Huaisang sighs, blushing at his own confession. “I didn't mean too, it was supposed to just be a game, but I really love him. If there's got to be someone, I want it to be him.”

“Then you'll have him,” Nie Mingjue promises, like it's an evidence.

To him, it is. Their sect doesn't bother playing the game of alliances through marriages that others do. They're a little more like the Lan in that respect, even if they're not quite as ostentatious about it, and they don't bat an eye at second or even third marriages. So if Nie Huaisang has decided he wants this person, enough so that he's willing to put in effort to improve himself for over an entire week, Nie Mingjue will help him. He is weak to his brother's whims, and even weaker to his rare moments of determination.

“You don't even know who it is,” Nie Huaisang protests. “You have no idea how difficult it'll be... I really might have to run away with him and become a rogue cultivator with him, because his parents are so damn stupid! And also, I'm not sure you'd actually approve if you knew...”

“Is it one of Wen Ruohan's sons?”

The immediate grimace of disgust and betrayal on Nie Huaisang's face make it hard not to laugh.

“I told you he's handsome!” Nie Huaisang gasps. “I have taste, da-ge!”

“Aside from these two, you can marry whoever you like,” Nie Mingjue retorts. “Even other Wens if that's what you want,” he generously adds, knowing full well that there were none in Gusu, and so it's unlikely that his brother's beloved is from the sect that killed their father. Even if he were though, Nie Mingjue would do what's needed to make his brother happy, trusting him to find the one person from that sect who would have any value as a person.

Nie Huaisang is less than impressed by that statement.

“You promise?”

Maybe it really is a Wen, Nie Mingjue wonders. If so, it's too late to back off.

“I promise. Any person you want, any sect, if you say it's a decent person, if that's who you want to spend your life with, I'll do what it takes.”

“I'll hold you to that,” Nie Huaisang threatens with a cheerful smile. “I want to marry Jin Zixuan.”

Nie Mingjue stares at his brother, refusing to believe he's heard that correctly... but no, Nie Huaisang is grinning like he pulled the con of the century, that manipulative little shit. He did, in a way. However much Nie Mingjue hates Wen Ruohan and dreams of slaughtering him, at least that's someone he can somewhat respect. Jin Guangshan, on the other hand...

Nie Mingjue shivers in disgust.

Maybe a Wen would have been better after all.

#sangxuan #jin zixuan #nie huaisang #nie mingjue #mo dao zu shi #jau writes #nmj knows that his brother isn't always fully honest but he loves him and would bring down the sun and moon for him #though having jgs as an in-law might be pushing the limits of his love thanks

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angstyaches · 3 years ago

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hey! it is a rather different request this time. uh. i know you’ve been having some Mental Health Days tm too, so you absolutely do not need to write this if it’s too much or if you don’t want to. so i’ve been having some pretty fucked time lately, and that included me getting weirdly nauseous because my thoughts were too fast? if that makes sense? like. emotional motion sickness? so i was wondering, if any of your ocs suffer from depression or any other mental illness, could you write them getting sick from that w their partner comforting them? (id especially love shayne and charlie, but it’s up to you!)

i know this is a very intense request, so you can very much 100% ignore it/delete it/tell me to stfu/ whatever you need. thank you, i hope we all feel better soon <3🍄

Note: this is not the fluffy fic I was talking about yesterday.

Mild spoiler alert, but I want to give some context. While I was working on this and one other fic, I started thinking about how difficult it can be to believe someone loves you when you’re at a dark point in your mental health, and I want to explore that a bit with both Charlie and Shayne. That’s why Shayne says “Thank you” at the end of this fic; he’s not being an asshole, he’s just taking a moment to recognise and appreciate that Charlie loves him.

CW: anxiety attack, emeto, mild touch aversion and trust issues

_____

Charlie had been sitting in the single armchair with his laptop all morning, lost in the depths of the Internet. It had started off as a single scouring of his university’s website, which had ended in him lightly stalking the Facebook page for their LGBTQA+ society. From there, he’d ended up finding a Facebook group for incoming students for his course, and gotten added to a private chat with a few of them. One girl had found a copy of the semester’s reading list, and from there, Charlie had gone on a tangent of trying to find cheap copies of the books on various websites. His older brother Jonathan had warned him about how university libraries sometimes only stocked one copy of a book that sixty students would all need on the same day, and Charlie wanted to be prepared.

It wasn’t until someone in the chat said they were leaving to go get lunch that Charlie realised how long it had been since he’d looked up from the screen. He said goodbye to them and closed the lid of his laptop, stretching his arms out over his head. His legs were draped over the arm of the armchair, so he stretched those out too, almost kicking Shayne in the head since he was sitting on the sofa.

“Oh! Sorry,” he giggled, hopping up and placing his laptop on the cushion where he’d been sitting. “I hope you don’t feel like I’ve been ignoring you.”

“Nope.” Shayne had his head propped up on one hand, his eyes slightly glazed over. He sounded like he could have been in a bad mood, but those were sometimes hard to distinguish from normal moods, so Charlie tried not to read into it.

“How are you doing?” Charlie asked, slumping down on the sofa. He reached over and brushed his fingers through Shayne’s hair, his heart sinking when Shayne flinched at the contact. “Something wrong?”

Shayne shrugged, gaze dropping to the floor as he folded his arms across his middle. Charlie immediately began to analyse the situation, his heart thrumming with the frantic worry he always felt when Shayne began to clam up.

“Are you feeling sick?”

Shayne shrugged.

“If you are, I can get you some medicine.”

“No.”

“Okay.” Charlie cleared his throat. “I was thinking of having lunch soon, if you want to join me.”

“No, I don’t –” Shayne leaned forward, burying his face in his hands. “You don’t get to decide what goes in my body, Charlie.”

“Whoa.” Charlie sat forward too, wishing he could get a glimpse at Shayne’s expression. “That’s not what I was trying to do.”

Fists clenched by his sides, Shayne got up from the sofa. “Just leave me the fuck alone, okay?”

“Okay,” Charlie said in a small voice. He wrung his hands in his lap, letting his eyes follow Shayne across the living room.

He paused by the door to the hallway, like he was considering whether or not he actually wanted to storm out. In the end, he turned around again, crossing his arms.

“Shayne?” Charlie eased himself to his feet. He knew sudden movements probably wouldn’t make Shayne any worse, but it was better to be safe than sorry.

“No.” Shayne shook his head and started walking back and forth. His fingers were digging into his upper arms. “No. Don’t. Don’t.”

Charlie felt sick. He couldn’t tell if Shayne was talking to him, or to himself.

As much as it killed him to just stand and watch, he kept himself planted on the spot and let Shayne pace back and forth. It was better for him to use up some of his nervous energy for a few minutes. Charlie knew the last thing he should do was try to control him when his anxiety acted up, since it was usually the feeling of losing control that caused it.

What he wasn’t expecting was for Shayne to suddenly turn and fling himself towards him, head hitting Charlie’s shoulder with force.

He was gasping as he tried to get words out. “I-I can’t – Charlie, everything’s messed up. My stomach, my chest – I can’t fucking breathe–”

“Oh, lovely, it’s okay, it’s okay,” Charlie whispered as calmly as he could.

Shayne exhaled deeply, his body falling still for a moment. It felt like a calm before a storm. Charlie held his breath, not quite sure what kind of storm to expect. He realised he wouldn’t have been shocked if Shayne had turned around again and punched a hole in the wall.

In the end, Shayne just jerked his head back, his eyes watery and unfocused. The tension in the air changed, becoming less intense but a lot more delicate.

“Are you okay?”

Shayne shook his head.

“What’s wr–?” Charlie started to ask, cutting himself off when Shayne abruptly spun on the spot and leaned over, a weak stream of sick pouring from his lips. “Oh.”

“Fuck,” Shayne whimpered, pressing a hand over his mouth. It had landed mostly on the glass coffee table and not on the rug, at least. He gave a muffled “Sorry” from behind his hand before he sank back onto the edge of the sofa.

“Hey, don’t – don’t worry.” Charlie dragged over a metal bin that lived in the corner of the sitting room, mostly for used tissues and snack wrappers to be thrown into. Luckily, it was empty now. He knelt down in front of Shayne, who was still covering his face as he leaned on his knees. “There’s a bin, in case you feel sick again.”

Shayne just shuddered in response.

“Hey,” Charlie sighed, resting a hand on his shoulder. His breath was a serious of ragged gasps again, making his body convulse so badly that Charlie couldn’t tell if he was still retching or not. “Are you okay? What – what happened there?”

“Everything… Everything was too fast, in my head.” Shayne let out a shaky sigh, fingers clinging to his hair now. His eyes were squeezed shut. “Charlie, what the fuck’s wrong with me? What am I going to do?”

“Hey, hey, hey, look at me.”

“I can’t.”

“Look at me.”

“I can’t, Charlie!”

“Shayne, trust me, alright?” Charlie extended both arms, palms facing up. “Squeeze my hands.”

The breath shuddered out of Shayne as he took Charlie’s hands, closing his fingers tightly.

“Alright, now, count backwards from ten with me. Ten –”

“Ten…”

By the time they reached zero, Shayne’s grip on Charlie’s hands had relaxed, and there didn’t seem to be any fresh tears on his face. He was shaking, and his eyes were searching Charlie’s like he was waiting for them to spit out the meaning of life. Charlie had never felt like more of a fraud, a charlatan; he hadn’t even been sure that the counting-backwards-from-ten thing would work, but he was glad that it had.

“Okay? You with me?” Charlie whispered.

Shayne nodded distantly.

“Feeling better?”

“Yeah. No.” Shayne’s teeth chattered as he fought to compose himself. “Sorry. Physically, yes, but everything – everything else is just…”

Charlie shook his head, feeling like his heart might break from watching Shayne try and fail to find the right words. “Lovely, it’s okay.”

“Fuck. The coffee table,” Shayne groaned.

“Hey, that’ll be easy to clean up,” Charlie half-laughed. “I’m gonna go do that now, and then I’ll make us some tea, okay? Do you want to lie down while you wait?”

A short nod, a glassy gaze.

“Okay. Maybe don’t lie on your tummy, though,” Charlie said as Shayne began to move, anxious that he would resort to his preferred position for sleeping and relaxing. “It might make you sick again and make it hard to breathe.”

“’Kay,” Shayne murmured, curling up on his side with his knees almost all the way up to his chest.

Charlie stroked his shoulder and prayed to a god he didn’t believe in that he’d be able to understand what went on inside his head one day. He had a heavy feeling in his chest as he got up from the floor.

Charlie turned around at the door. He both loved and hated how tiny Shayne looked, curled up on the sofa. He drew a deep breath. “I love you.”

Looking exhausted, and also like he was about to start crying again, Shayne nodded and said something in a very low voice before letting his eyes close. He’d mumbled it – badly, even by his own standards – but Charlie was almost certain that Shayne had said, “Thank you.”

#anxiety #emeto #emeto fic #sickfic #emeto sickfic #StW Shayne #vomit fic #anxiety disorder mention #anxiety mention #fic length #if I didn't say it already #🍄 anon I hope you're doing better 🖤

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hanideyumeron · 4 years ago

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Hi! Love your writing, it's really good! If it doesn't bother you, could you do a yugi amane (when it was alive) x a sick reader. Thank you!

forgive me friend for not doing this ;-; i hope you understand since this year has been so hectic. i don’t think this is my most best work but hey i tried hhh i still feel really confused when on tumblr so forgive me for that as well

Amane Yugi x sick reader

It was a normal day for everyone, that is, everyone except for Yugi Amane. His honey coloured eyes didn’t have that playful twinkle it always had and instead was narrowed in what seemed like concern. They darted over to the door of the classroom too much for his comfort, wondering if your bubbly figure would come any moment now. No one noticed it since it was only reg and most students were talking to each other. Yes, it was only reg, it would be fine, you’d come in at any time now. his thoughts were a mirage of worry and what-ifs that made his head swirl. However, the sounds of his reg class laughing and talking started to drown out those thoughts. He folded his arms and laid his head flat against the desk. With his swirling thoughts, the noise only worsened his mood and slowly turned into a headache. People could be so annoying sometimes.

In the end, you didn’t come.

Amane was at first worried since you believed in perfect attendance, wondering out loud where you were to his brother at break. He had looked at him and blinked with a smile, pointing out one big detail that Amane seemed to have missed “Amane, it was raining really hard yesterday, remember? She might have just got sick! Don’t worry too much,’kay?” Amane looked at his brother with a face of realisation, mouth-blown out like an ‘o’ while his eyes regained its twinkle. That was right, the huge droplets of water had refused to let go of their reign of the land when it was time to go home, and so through critical deduction of solutions, you and Tsukasa had a race to see who could run home the fastest.

Amane had voiced his concerns for the idea, but since you and his brother had already shot out into the rain, he sighed and followed the two of you but more slowly and of course with an umbrella. He didn’t know how Tsukasa wasn’t worried for you since it wasn’t like you to be off at all. You had once come into school when you had a tummy bug and made a scene when you ran to the nearest bathroom. If you went to school with an upset stomach, this must be even more serious. Amane was also confused about how Tsukasa didn’t get sick himself but didn’t bother to ask since it would have been a stupid question.

Even if Tsukasa said not to worry, of course, Amane started to worry more. It was like him after all, even if he rarely showed it. So when it was time to go home, he told Tsukasa to go home without him while he checked up on you. Tsukasa just smiled and nodded, not even asking if he could join him. Amane walked up to your house and opened the gate, walking in without forgetting to close it again. With three long strides to the front door, he knocked on the door loudly.

...No one came to the door.

He was expecting this. At least kind of. Your parents worked a lot and would leave you to your own devices. If you didn’t come and get the door then…

Amane frowned. Now he knew that you definitely weren’t okay. It didn’t sit right with him to just leave you alone to suffer from your illness. He’d feel like a bad friend since he knew of your sickness and didn’t try to help you. He looked around and settled on lifting a gardening pot that was laid on the ground near the front door to see if anything was under it and was relieved to see that a spare key was hidden there. Using it, he opened the door and walked in.

He felt a bit weird intruding into your house without notifying you first. It’s not as if he was breaking in, so why did it feel like it? Shaking the feeling off, he closed the door and took off his shoes peering through the main hallway of the house. “...Hello? [Y/n]?” Amane called out softly into the house. Silence echoed back and Amane’s eyes only narrowed in response. He left this bag slumped near the door of the house and slowly made his ascent to your room. The room was the nearest to him and was marked with your name etched into it to claim the room as yours.

Slowly, he opened the door, and instantly saw the darkness that enveloped it. The only light he saw was the small, dim beams of sunlight that peeked through from the curtains and to your bed. From what he could see, he could see your normally energetic self curled into a small ball, almost motionless if it weren’t for the slow breaths that you took. You looked wrecked, your normally soft hair now wet with sweat and stuck onto your forehead. Your eyes were shut closed in pain it seemed and your laboured breaths sounded wheezy and sore.

Amane frowned at this, the sight of you that sick made his heart writhe in pain. So with a quick smile, he set to work.

———-

Today had to be one of your worst days.

When you woke up, you woke up sticky and sore at nearly five in the morning. Your eyes felt like they had been staring into the sun for at least a day which left you with the rest of your senses to fend for you, but one problem, the rest of your senses weren’t even working. Your sense of smell was almost null since your nose kept on being blocked and the feeling of sneezing never left. Anything you touched felt warm to you and made you want to creep away from it from how warm you already felt. Your hearing was affected by your sense of smell, leaving you partly deaf as well.

Your mother had scolded you, saying how it was silly what you had done the day before. And through the whole lecture, your head and everything else got worse so you couldn’t concentrate on what she was saying. In the end, she had left you alone in the house to go to work since it was too late to ask to be off today. Your dad was on a business trip that day and wouldn’t be home until late that week, so now you had no one to help you. But that was alright because all you wanted to do was to sleep.

When you opened your eyes for the first time since that morning, the first thing you comprehended was a wet and cold sensation on the top of your forehead. The next thing you noticed was a quiet hum of a song beside you. It sounded like a lullaby, coaxing you to sleep once more. It had made you smile, and before you knew it, you opened your eyes. The stinging hadn’t left, but at least you didn’t feel like opening them was a chore. The ceiling of your room was blurry, colours swirling in and out of view before a face appeared along with a smile. “Am I...dead?” You blurted out which made the owner of the face laugh a bit, sounding relieved to hear your voice. Then, hands reached out to your forehead and took off the cold that caressed your face. You groaned at the lack of comfort that brought, but as soon as you did, the face brought the cold back but only this time it was even colder and slightly wetter. You sighed in relief, the rush of oxygen actually feeling nice.

“No, you’re not dead,” the figure teased, and it was when you heard that familiar teasing and playful voice that you realised that the figure that was taking care of you was none other than Amane. Your eyes shot open as your mouth drew agape, panic and disbelief flooding your system when you realised that your best friend was the one taking care of you and not an angelic being from the clouds above. As soon as your head moved off the pillow, a rush of pain shot up your spine and into your head, making it apparent that you were also dehydrated. Amane, surprised at the sudden movement, slowly pushed you back down into the bed and placed the fallen wet cloth back on your forehead.

“Why are you here? You should be at your house!” You whined pathetically, glaring at him with as much annoyance as you could muster in that time. But seeing Amane’s worried lopsided smile made you sigh and look away, letting Amane continue with what he was doing.

The look made it very obvious to you that he wasn’t going anywhere. At least, not in a long time. He was the type of person that didn’t have a lot of friends and the friends that he did have he cherished like gold. Pushing him away would be futile and you knew it even if you were only a young teenager. But knowing that Amane too was a young teenager looking after you didn’t sit well with you either, so you opened your mouth to- “Don’t try, you’re too sick to move,” you turned back to Amane with a dumbfounded look. What? How did he know? With a smile he giggled at your confused expression “I live with a brother who gets sick like this sometimes. I’m used to it so don’t worry,” you pouted at that. It didn’t make you feel any less bad, but since he knew what he was doing put you at ease, you were at least a bit more compliant.

Amane babied you, helping you to sit up so you could read books on your shelf or just to keep you company. He brought you some soup your mother had quickly made for you and spoon-fed you despite your flustered attempts to make him stop. This only made him tease you more as he pretended it was an aeroplane like you would do for a toddler. Soon, the afternoon turned to evening, and Amane watched as your slightly more energetic self turned more and more tired until opening your eyes seemed like a chore. He had deemed it late enough and coaxed you into lying down, tucking you into bed. After keeping you company and also looking after you for the day he realised he too was tired. Now he just wanted to sleep.

“Goodbye [Y/n],” he said softly, seeing the way your eyes barely stayed open. You were fighting sleep, and for someone as sick as you, sleep would be very important for you “Get well soon, I’ll check up on you tomorrow,” he turned to leave, but before he could, you had grasped his hand to make him stay.

“It’s too late now, isn’t it? Don’t go now. I’ll feel worried for you,”

Amane looked out the window and noticed that it indeed was late. The street lamps were on, headlights of cars zoomed past leaving streaks of white in their wake and the sound of the crickets had finally made its way to his ears. Looking back to you, he saw the way that you were sitting up a bit since you reached out to grab his hand. Your eyes were pleading, of course, something you would muster to make Amane stay since he couldn’t say no to any puppy eyes, especially yours or Tsukasa’s. The reasonable answer was to stay with you since at night it was much more dangerous. So as Amane weighed his options, he let out a sigh and nodded, slipping under the covers with you. In your tired state, you had wrapped your arms around him, burying your face into his shoulder. Amane was almost sure that with this close proximity that he was going to get sick as well, but for him it was worth it since he was able to hug you for a night.

“Mmm love you Amane,”

Amane felt his cheeks light up. Was that an accident? It must be. Maybe you just meant it platonically. Why was he even thinking about that? Of course, you meant it platonically. Was he getting sick already? Yeah, that had to be it. Smiling he closed his eyes, already feeling more tired than he was a second ago.

“...love you too,”

Amane was definitely sick. But his sickness was an entirely different sickness than the one that you had.

#yugi amane x reader #hanako x reader #tbhk x reader #tbhk #jshk x reader

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laulink · 4 years ago

Text

Nuts and Dolts wedding

A.N : SO, after the FUCKING HEARTBREAK that was V8C5 and ESPECIALLY its end, I was in pain. So much pain. For Penny, for Pietro, for Ruby, for EVERYTHING. Then I saw a post in which people wondered if Pietro and/or Penny would survive this clusterfuck and the person who had reblogged put in the tags something like “yes they will both survive and Pietro will live to walk Penny down the aisle” and I needed that so much. I didn’t even know but I needed that SO MUCH. So I decided to put it into a fic to (hopefully) alleviate some of the pain of my fellow fans. Enjoy !

On a sunny spring day, a red-headed woman sat in a house in the middle of the woods, twiddling her fingers while watching the hands of the clock advance, inexorable, not knowing whether she wished time would stop or advance faster.

It was the first time she’d ever felt like this. She could only guess the cause of her torment : Penny was nervous. She didn’t even know why ! This day had been planned very carefully, Weiss, Yang, Winter and even Nora, in her own way, had helped iron out every little detail and made sure everything would go well. And she had no reason to worry about Ruby either ! She knew her fiancée looked forward to this day just as much as her, she wouldn’t change her mind at the last minute.

Penny pinched her cheeks in a -vain- attempt at calming her nerves. Everything would go well. She had no reason to be-

“Hey ! Don’t mess with your make up !”

Weiss’ hands slapped at her wrist to get her to let go of her cheeks. Penny held her hands up in a show of surrender, a small, apologetic smile accompanying them.

“Sorry, sorry, I didn’t realise.

- Nervous ?” Winter asked, still focused on braiding Penny’s hair.

- A little,” Penny gave a small smile to hide her growing unrest. “I don’t know why though !

- Don’t worry, it’s normal,” reassured Weiss while picking up a brush and some make-up to fix the spots Penny had messed up. “This is a big day for you and Ruby. I wish I could say “the most important”, but considering, well…

- The actual war you two took a part in,” supplied Winter.

- … yeah, that. Anyway, this is the day you’ve waited for for months, years even, so of course your nerves would act up. Being nervous, excited and anticipating what it will be like is perfectly normal.”

Done with her task, Weiss set down the brush and make-up and went around Penny to help Winter give her hair the final touches. At the same time they finished and told Penny to look at herself in the mirror, the door to the room opened-

“Hell-”

-and was slammed shut in the visitor’s face.

“Weiss !” Penny exclaimed, surprised at her friend’s sudden violence. The young woman crossed her arms, but the glyph holding the door in place didn’t disappear.

“What ? We can’t risk it being Yang, or Nora, or Ruby !

- I understand why Ruby can’t see me since Winter told me about wedding traditions, but what about Yang and Nora ?

- Those two wouldn’t hesitate to take a picture to show Ruby. They would think it a smart way to bend tradition.

- Come now, you’re being a bit unfair,” Winter admonished her. “Let’s start by seeing who this guest is.”

The two sisters went to the door, Weiss grumbling about Yang and Nora absolutely being this ridiculous. Carefully, Weiss opened the door just a crack to see who was on the other side.

“Oh, it’s just you.”

Then she opened the door wider, enough to let her brother Whitley come into the room. He was massaging his nose, which appeared to be a bit red.

“Just you ?! Is that really all you have to say to the brother you nearly disfigured ? On the day of a wedding no less ?!

- What about it, you’re not the one getting married.

- You little- !”

Whitley balled and raised his fists, as if to fight Weiss, something they’d grown to do regularly since their reconciliation after the war, but he didn’t make another move, just looking angrily at his sister and gritting his teeth while Weiss gave him a smug grin. Penny giggled as she realised Whitley had stopped himself because he didn’t want to mess up the maid of honour’s appearance.

The sound grabbed Whitley’s attention who turned his head toward Penny. His eyes went wide and his jaw dropped, leaving his mouth slightly open. Winter smiled at his reaction and asked him :

“So, what do you think, brother ? Is Penny ready to get married ?”

Whitley nodded eagerly, a big smile breaking over his face.

“Definitely ! Ruby is one lucky woman, that’s for sure !”

Penny blushed at her friend’s comment. It still felt a little weird, having people genuinely compliment her on her appearance. The military had designed her to be “cute” and “friendly-looking”, since she was supposed to be a protector for all of humanity and make people feel at ease around her, but she had almost never heard anyone compliment her looks before meeting Ruby -her father being an outlier and therefore not counted- and the comments she had heard had not always been very kind. Some of them had been uttered by the Schnee siblings’ very own father, “Jackass” as Yang liked to call him, so she had been a little anxious the first few times she had interacted with Whitley, the only one of the three who she hadn’t met before her first meeting with Jacques. Luckily, he was nothing like his father, contrary to the rumours she had heard about him, and they soon grew close and became friends.

“Not that I doubt you, but I would appreciate looking at our Princess of the day myself.”

Penny’s smile widened as she heard the familiar voice. Whitley smiled too while jumping out of the way to let Pietro Polendina enter the room and gaze upon his daughter.

*********************************

Pietro had always been a bit of an utopist, certainly a big optimist, yet even him wouldn’t have believed, 5 years ago, that he would one day see his biggest dream come true : seeing his daughter, radiating happiness in her wedding dress, about to go get married to the love of her life.

Even if he had, his imagination could have never created something as perfect as the picture he had before him : his baby girl, now a beautiful woman, in a green, sleeveless dress, holding a bouquet of red roses similar to the ones adorning her hair that had been braided into a crown, her usual pink ribbon attached to it and falling down her back, green earrings completing her outfit. It made her look like a Fairy Queen right out of one of those old stories he used to hear as a child.

“Dad ? Is something wrong ?” Penny asked, visibly worried.

Pietro shook his head, only now realising he was crying. He wiped off his eyes and smiled at his daughter.

“Nothing’s wrong, darling. I am just so, so happy for you.”

Penny’s smile returned, fond, accompanied by a small blush.

“Thanks, Dad.”

An alarm started right next to him, coming from Winter. She took her scroll to shut it and told them :

“It’s time.”

Pietro nodded, then turned to Penny and extended his hand toward her.

“Ready ?”

Penny took a deep breath, then gave a resolute nod as she put her hand in his.

“As I’ll ever be.”

********************************************

The clearing Penny and Ruby had chosen to hold their wedding looked like it had been brought right out of a fairy tale. It was just a normal clearing on Patch, but Weiss, Yang and Nora had completely transformed it in just a few days ; beautiful patches of flowers on the edges, flowery arches leading up to the altar, elegant wooden benches on each side of the aisle and an impressive gazebo on the far end to hold the party after the ceremony.

As Pietro and Penny approached, the band started playing the wedding march. Pietro could see Ruby tense up near the altar and turn her head toward them so fast he feared she would tear a muscle. Thankfully, she seemed to be fine… or too entranced by the sight of Penny to notice anything else, not even her sister and maid of honour poking at her side. Sneaking a glance at his daughter, Pietro noticed she was in much the same state : though all their friends and family members had gathered to witness their union, Penny didn’t spare them even a glance, entirely focused on her bride to be. It felt as though the two of them had locked themselves in their own little world where no one else existed, like they so often did. Still, Penny had no problem walking toward the altar and her future wife with him, advancing to the rhythm of the music.

It was only hitting him now : he was walking his daughter down the aisle, on her wedding day, toward the person she had chosen to be her wife, to build a family with. Pietro felt the tears rise to his eyes again, but he held them back ; he didn’t want to miss a single second of this moment.

After a minute that had felt endless and, at the same time, much too short, they stopped before the altar. Penny and Ruby’s gazes were locked together, love plain in their eyes, almost overwhelming, even for an onlooker. Pietro took a second to notice and appreciate that Ruby had chosen to wear a pink bow-tie, the Polendinas’ unofficial emblem, with her black, red and white suit to mark her entrance into their family, much like the red roses in Penny’s hair were a sign of her entrance into the Rose family. Then, he took Ruby’s hand, startling her, and placed Penny’s in it. Both women smiled warmly at him and he squeezed their joined hands between his own.

“I am so happy for you two. That you found each other. That you supported each other through everything the world threw your way. And that you will now get to spend the rest of your hopefully long lives together.”

There was so much more he wanted to say, but he figured he should keep some of it for his toast at the party. Ruby and Penny seemed to understand his feelings though, as their smiles widened and they bent down to hug him.

The moment ended as Winter cleared her throat from behind the altar, the position from which she would officiate the ceremony, then looked at them expectantly. Pietro chuckled and let go of his girls, squeezing their hands one last time before going to take his seat and let the ceremony begin.

*************************************

Later that night, as the band started playing the music of the first dance, Pietro took the measure of the blessing this day had been. Everything had gone perfectly ; the ceremony had been beautiful ; Penny and Ruby’s smiles as they pronounced their vows had almost blinded him ; their friends’ toasts had made everyone cry tears of laughter and happiness ; no one had burned anything down (though the night was still young, so he didn’t want to get too ahead of himself with this one) ; and now, his daughter was dancing in the arms of her new wife, moving to the sound of the soft music in the middle of the flowers, right under the moonlight.

Everything was perfect.

… or so he thought until he noticed small, vibrant green lights ignite in the air around the newlyweds. Everyone started murmuring as the lights multiplied, gliding along invisible waves, their light reflecting off the couple’s wedding rings and giving the scene an ethereal feel.

Ruby and Penny noticed the small lights and smiled at each other, visibly delighted. And then it dawned on him.

Fireflies.

He never knew why, but the small bioluminescent bugs seemed to hold a special place in the hearts of the young couple. Whatever memories were already associated with them for Ruby and Penny, Pietro had no doubt this one would be among their dearest.

The two women’s new life together was off to a great start already and, as they kissed, surrounded by the light of the fireflies, Pietro made a wish that the rest of their existence continue to be filled with love and happiness.

That was his new biggest dream for the two of them.

#rwby #ruby rose #penny polendina #nuts and dolts #mechanical rose #my writing

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