#in fact have i ever written a fic in which he didn’t appear?
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Balance fic recs
some of my favorite balance fics. various ages, popularities, and lengths. i’ve been wanting to do a rec list for a while!
caramel by nevereverever
The first time Taako is left alone, it isn't pretty. But their lives are stuck in a loop and people come back and die again and again and he wonders if there will ever be a time when he doesn't have to fear being left alone.
2.7k, Taako & Lup Lup dies one cycle and then, years later, she dies again. But she always comes back. Hurt/comfort of the best kind.
Warmth by noxic
"It was a well-known fact among the residents of the Starblaster that Lup, Barry, and Taako slept in the same bed more often than not. It was one of those things that they just did without really talking about it."
2.1k, Barry & Lup & Taako The BLT fic of all time. Quality platonic adult sleepovers.
Taako the Matchmaker by @fantasysamsclub
In which Taako tries to set up his sister. Events take place during Stolen Century.
11.1k, Blupjeans & Taako Taako tries to set up blupjeans. Miscommunication ensues. Very sweet and funny.
red fishing line by @anistarrose
A routine performance of Sizzle it Up goes nightmarishly wrong, and at Lup’s bedside, Taako feels helpless. And when a red-robed guest appears before him, Taako doesn’t know how or what to feel at all.
3k, Barry & Lup & Taako Also the BLT fic of all time. Excellent subtle Taako characterization, and my favorite depiction of the familiarity-but-not of being voidfished. Warning for major character death.
Sunny-Side Up by @barry-j-blupjeans
And the world? The world loved Taako. For once in his gods-damned life, people loved him. They didn’t care about all the flaws, they didn’t care where he came from or who he was before. They loved his food and they loved him. No one would ever quite be at Taako’s level and that was something he thrived on. There would never be anyone who could measure up. Taako deserved this happiness. He worked for it. He wasted his fucking life away for it.
5.7k, Taako A wonderful character study, revolving around the role food plays in Taako's life. Fairly minor but impactful characters like Sazed and Taako's aunt are utilized in a very meaningful way. So well-written and warm. Warning for brief suicidal ideation.
On the Deck of the Starblaster by @papergardener
“What the… what are you all doing? We have work to do!” It’s a justified reaction, Lucretia thinks, to finding your entire crew literally lazing about on deck not an hour into this new cycle. “This one's on me,” Taako says. “It’s a new trend I like to call: taking a fucking break.” Cycle Nintey-Five. Everyone’s maybe not doing so good and could use a little warmth.
6.5k, Lucretia & Taako Near the end of the century, Lucretia is feeling rough. Taako pulls her out of her funk and initiates a much needed rest. Fantastic characterization, of Lucretia as a whole, and the loyal, warm side of Taako. Warning for mentions of a suicide attempt and suicidal ideation.
leaving, as an injustice by @anistarrose
When Mavis is eight, she starts finding her Dad asleep on the couch in the morning. Sometimes, he’s even all the way out on their tiny patio, with his head slumped onto a pillow atop the chess table, and bags beneath his eyes. In one of their following games, he tells her about tactical retreats.
4.7k, Mavis & Merle A study of Mavis and her relationship to Merle. Incredibly insightful into criminally underrated characters. Excellent Merle characterization.
Permission by vaguenotion
She’d been doing this on and off for the last hour, as if daring the men to catch up to them. Daring them to fight her. Every time seemed like a final stand. Here is where I will meet them, her shoulders said, hiked up around her ears. Here is where I’ll make them pay for what they’ve done. But then Taako would grab her hand, and she would turn and see the bruising on his throat, the blood drying on his brow, the tear in his shirt. And she would grip his hand in hers and together they would keep running.
12.6k, Taako & Lup My favorite depiction of the twins as children, both in character and realistic. Beautifully atmospheric, with so many small details that make the setting feel so real. Warning for assault and harm to children.
Come Hell or High Water by @nillial
“Taako,” Hurley asks, “where’s your magic umbrella?” Taako looks behind him. He had tossed the Umbrastaff in the path of a neighboring vehicle, which was beginning to catch up to them. He sees them now, far in the distance, and he sees his Umbrastaff, too, lying dangerously close to its wheels. As if on cue, he watches the tires crush it to pieces. “Whoops,” he says. - Lup is trapped. And then she isn’t. --- In which Taako breaks his umbrella during the Petals to the Metal race, unknowingly freeing Lup, who is almost immediately captured by Kravitz. After becoming a member of the Raven Queen's retinue with Kravitz as her trainer, she has two missions: 1) find her family, and 2) ruin Kravitz's afterlife. A story about enemies becoming friends and lost families finding their way back to one another.
197k (currently), Lup & Kravitz Incredible characterization. I love the way Lup is written. Hilarious shenanigans, sweet friendship-building, and terribly sad sometimes, because it dives deep into the reality of Lup existing in a world that's forgotten her.
Very cold water on a very hot day by @keplercryptids
Sometimes a family is a nerd who can't swim and the crunchy-haired watersport inventor who teaches him how. Surfer lingo required.
3.1k, Barry & Taako Deep dive into the beach year. Excellently in character, well-written dialogue, and a beautiful depiction of their growing friendship.
Children of Atlas by @papergardener
They’ve survived the apocalypse and now as far as they know, they’re the only ones left. Perhaps it was inevitable that they’d consider… repopulation. Lucretia writes up a weekly schedule to try and address that. Absolutely no one is happy with this.
76k (currently), IPRE crew The premise for this one is incredibly offputting, but I'm so glad I gave it a chance. The characterization and quality of writing is absolutely wonderful. I also love the attention to detail of the realistic difficulty of just surviving. Fantastically atmospheric, this fic dives deep into the uncertainty and fear of the first cycle, when the crew are all strangers, and the love that turns them into a family. Warning for extensive discussion of sexual assault.
Emissary Davenport by DragonWrites
A series of stories where Captain Davenport is secretly an emissary of Garl Glittergold, Gnomish god of pranks. And when you're a serious-minded captain on a mission to save all of reality, having a cheerful trickster god as your unexpected patron can get a little strange...
300k, Davenport A series of four works set in an AU where Davenport is an emissary to the leader of the gnomish pantheon. My absolute favorite depiction of Davenport, ever. The first three works are explorations of Davenport as a character and the relationships between people and gods in a DnD world. The last, Lost Gods, is the best fanfiction I've ever read. I can't express how good it is. The attention to detail among myriad plot threads, the building of themes, the characterization across just about every single character in Balance, all come together to create 223k words of a genuine masterpiece.
#apparently theres some kind of comment thing going on and people were making fic rec lists so i wanted to throw my hat in the ring#bc a few of these are very underrated#yes theyre all gen. i don't care for shipping. sorry#mine#taz#taz balance#the adventure zone#taz: b#taz fanfic#taz balance fic#fic rec
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On Mia Winters, misogyny, and abuse
As should be pretty obvious by now, I love Mia Winters. I honestly think she’s one of the most compelling characters in this whole damn franchise.
But let me make clear: you don’t have to love her. Mia’s canonically done a lot of shady shit in her time, and her relationship with Ethan has real problems. There are perfectly viable interpretations where the only thing really holding it together is his own denial. Only I never seem to get to read any of those takes, because the most common characterisations Mia gets in fic are an irredeemable monster, or a cardboard cutout who exists only to be written out as quickly as possible. And to write Mia out to that degree doesn’t just do her character a disservice, it does Ethan a disservice, and a big one.
The amount of Mia-bashing I see out there in this fandom turns my stomach. It’s not just the slash fans who’d rather ship Ethan with another dude. I have seen Mia loudly bashed in tags on het or gen fic in which she does not even appear. I have seen male fans reviewing these games on youtube who treat her the exact same way. But it’s never more frustrating than when that hate comes from the same fans who’ll turn around and talk about characters like Chris or even Lady Dimitrescu (she who canonically abuses her and murders her servants, and, y’know, eats people without a shred of remorse) like they’re perfectly forgivable and have done no real wrong. And don’t get me wrong: I love Lady D, but I love her because she’s magnificently evil. Mia? Mia’s a whole lot more complicated.
But to really explain why this hate makes me so uncomfortable, I’m going to have to start with the start of Resident Evil 7, and Mia’s very first scenes in this whole franchise.
Let me quickly summarise the opening of that game. A man whose wife disappeared without explanation suddenly gets a message about her whereabouts. He travels to an isolated location, breaks in, and finds her. She denies ever sending him that message, and seems incredibly distressed that he’s there at all. They fight. It ends with him sinking an axe into her neck and shooting her several times with a handgun. But see, he didn’t do anything wrong! It was all self-defence! She started it! She was acting crazy!
If you didn’t spot it, the whole opening of RE7 reads uncomfortably like a story about a woman escaping an abusive relationship, then being tracked down and murdered by her ex.
Obviously, I am not here to tell you Ethan’s abusive. He’s not, we’ve got no reason to imagine he is. He was legitimately acting in self-defence.
But the fact the first thing Ethan has to do in this game is find the balls to kill his own wife ‒ that a whole new era of Resi games has opened with a sequence so easily read as a sympathetic justification for how a man might perfectly innocently track down his missing spouse and "have" to kill her – that made those opening minutes into by far the most uncomfortable part of this whole franchise for me. Shit like this really happens. I mean it, I will track down the fucking statistics on women who are murdered after trying to leave an abusive partner if I have to.
What happens to ‘Mia’ in the opening to RE8 isn’t much better: it's as textbook a fridging as any I’ve ever seen. Yes, it’s a fridging that gets retconned away later when she turns up alive, but the fact that’s even possible speaks to just how awful and confusing her death is. The game opens with Mia’s violent murder at the hands of this series’ longest running ‘hero’, and the event is framed entirely in terms of how awful it is for her husband. That's as frigid as a fridging gets.
The eventual reveal that the real Mia was just trapped alone in a cell being experimented on by a madwoman for god knows how long doesn’t actually make it better. The horror Mia goes through in both these games is a footnote, barely explored.
I bring these events up not to condemn the RE franchise, not to say that including these sequences was unconscionable, or that violence against women can never be shown in a horror title. A quick glance at my tumblr should demonstrate how much I adore these games. Tropes like fridging become problems only because they’re so ubiquitous they can come to define almost the only roles women get to play, not because any individual example is necessarily grounds for outrage. If anything, there’s just as much to analyse in all the hate thrown at characters like Ethan Winters (or his predecessor, Jonathan Harker) as a archtypical examples of sexism against men – backlash against the very idea of a male character in the disempowered role of horror victim, usually reserved for women.
But with this context in mind, my god is it uncomfortable to see people talk about Mia as irredeemable monster who deserves to suffer more. People who will valorise the likes of Chris Redfield, who didn’t even bother to stop to tell Ethan that’s not Mia, yet talk about Mia like being shot to death in her own living room was only what she deserved. That is just a whole load of yikes.
And given that both games open with Mia being violently killed by a male protagonist (twice in RE7, with the player in control), it sure is convenient how so many people have managed to ‘find’ the evidence that proves she’s the real villain. You don’t have to think too hard about Chris Redfield as a violent maniac or Ethan Winters being forced to kill his own wife if it’s okay to inflict violence on this woman. “Yes, but she shouldn’t have done [X]…” or even “But what if she’s the real abuser” is a narrative that gets thrown at real women in abusive relationships all the time – especially when the man is a friend of whoever’s casting judgement, or even a celebrity. Real world examples of this shit in the wild run the gamut from wild fan-takes on The Shining ‘proving’ that actually the abused wife was the ‘real’ abuser all along, right up to the ongoing hate campaign against Amber Heard. People don’t want to have to think badly of someone they admire, and will take any excuse to shift the blame. The stakes are infinitely lower when we’re talking about fictional characters, but the same pattern plays out.
And look, I do get it. It’s easy to go into these games and come out with a negative opinion of Mia. She’s the one who lures you into danger in RE7, acts all innocent, and then comes at Ethan with a chainsaw – and when you finally find out her big secret at the end, it turns out she was working for the people who created Eveline from the start! You’re really not given a lot of reasons to invest in Ethan and Mia’s relationship before she’s suddenly coming at him with a knife, and the fact she never does get to come clean to him in canon leaves a bad taste in the mouth.
It’s really easy to go into RE8, note all the glaring signs that Ethan’s relationship with Mia isn’t healthy, and draw your own conclusions about a woman we don’t hardly even see again for most of the runtime of the game. Half this goddamn fandom still seems to think Heisenberg is actually a lycan, ffs – most of what people think they know about Mia is more meme than fact, and the rest is pretty surface level. Basic media literacy is not exactly high out there in the tumblrweeds (let alone the rest of the internet).
But as for the idea that Mia’s responsible for all the horrors Ethan went through, people seem to forget that Mia herself went through so much worse. Ethan spent a day in the Bakers’ property, and a day in the village. Mia spent years trapped in the Bakers’ property, and days at least imprisoned in Miranda’s lab, knowing exactly how much danger her family were in, helpless to save them. She’s no innocent herself, but ye gods has she already suffered for her crimes.
So with all that out of the way, well, what’s the actual ‘evidence’ that Mia herself was abusive? No-one's coming into this one without some bias, but let’s at least give it a fair shake.
Right upfront, I want to recognise that in both fiction and reality, women can be abusers, and men can be victims. Abuse in heterosexual relationships is far more likely to occur with the man as the abuser, but the reverse does happen, and the fact culture at large can be so eager to cast the woman as the villain doesn’t make it any easier for the real male victims of abuse to get recognition and help. Society as a whole is still just really shitty about enabling or excusing real abuse.
But the idea that Mia was abusive has very little to back it up. Whatever you make of “her” interactions with Ethan at the start of the game, the fact remains: that’s not Mia, and the fact she’s acting so strangely is meant to be our clue that something much bigger than a little marital strife is going on here. Knowing all this doesn’t really make the scene where she’s violently executed less disturbing, but you can’t miss the hints we don’t yet know the full story.
So the question becomes, is there any evidence that the real Mia was abusive? I’ve dug into this one a bit before in my post about trying to figure out the timeline of exactly when Mia was replaced, but there are no definitive answers as to how long Miranda's been living in their house. To summarise a long post (and a surprisingly lively timeline of events from the days before the game begins): the most likely intent seems to be that Miranda’s been posing as Mia for less than a week, though a lot of the vibes of the scene give me the impression it’s been several weeks at least. Ultimately, that’s going to come down to your own interpretation.
The Mia mentioned in Ethan’s diary who blew up at him at the hospital could be the real Mia, but more likely isn’t: you can’t really use her to argue anything definitive, one way or another. The Mia from the flashback where Ethan gets the call from Rose’s doctor is the real Mia, but if you think getting upset when your husband brushes off your obvious distress over your daughter’s health makes you abusive, then nothing I say here is going to convince you otherwise.
The only ‘real’ evidence that Mia might be a problem is one line you might hear from Ethan while taking Rose to bed, and it is admittedly a red flag: your mother’s scary when she’s angry.
And to anyone whose whole hatred of Mia has been built backwards from this one line – especially anyone who’s grown up in a dysfunctional household themselves – hell, I get it. It is one really yikes thing for Ethan to say about his wife.
But in Mia’s defence, I can only point out that, well, yes, canonically, she is scary when she’s angry.
Oh, did I say angry? I meant fucking possessed.
And if Ethan’s bringing up the spectre of that time, even subconsciously, maybe that should be an even bigger clue that the Mia in this house right now isn’t Mia.
But what really shows this line for what it is is that we’ve seen the real Mia angry. We’ve seen her cold fury at Eveline, daring to go right back to asking ‘can we be a family now?’ within hours forcing Mia to assault her own husband with a chainsaw. We’ve seen her frustration at Ethan’s own denial, and we’ve seen her stalk out of the room when he blows off an important conversation for a call from work. We’ve seen her advance on Chris after he shut her down, demanding, Where is my husband? Where is my daughter?!
We have never seen her angry without real justification. Her anger is neither violent nor disproportionate. It’s consistently purposeful, focused, and contained. There is nothing scary about the real Mia’s anger, unless you’re threatened by the very idea she might have something valid to be angry about.
There is evidence of tension in the Winters’ marriage from before Miranda’s arrival, but it takes a very different form – most evident in the flashback scene where Ethan receives the call from Rose’s doctor. Far from Miranda’s brusque, dismissive copy of her, the real Mia is anxious and depressed, scared of what Rose’s results might reveal. Here, Ethan’s the one brushing her concerns aside (“We talked about this […] Rose is fine!”) He recognises there seems to be something Mia’s not telling him, says they should talk about it, but then immediately brushes the conversation off when he gets a call from work, while Mia storms out of the room.
You can certainly read Mia as a hypocrite here, getting angry at Ethan for not knowing things she’s deliberately kept from him. But it’s Ethan who decides a call from work is more important than a conversation with his wife – someone who is obviously distressed, canonically still on a regime of drugs after the traumatic events of RE7, very likely suffering PTSD along with Ethan, and maybe even some form of postpartum depression. We don’t know anything about Ethan’s work, so there’s no point in speculating about how much he ‘needs’ to take that call. Mia’s no clear villain here – quite the opposite.
Personally, I tend towards taking this scene as evidence that Mia has tried to talk to Ethan about what really happened to him, but hasn’t managed to get him to face the truth. For all that Ethan supposedly wants to talk about the past, it’s a defining plot point that he’s badly in denial himself.
Or they could both be at some fault here: Ethan unwilling to face the truth, while Mia is reluctant to force him to face something she knows will hurt him and bring him distress. Even when Mia says outright that she ‘tried to keep this a secret, but…’ to Chris at the end of the game, the implication is as much that she’s tried to keep it a secret from people like Chris, who might decide Ethan is dangerous. She’s lied to protect him before, and if she’s still lying to him about her past with the Connections, then the fact that knowing the truth will hurt Ethan is obviously among her reasons. Protecting Ethan has always been among Mia’s top priorities ‒ even at her own expense.
The only other real hints we get about Mia’s inner life come from the glimpses of her we get in Donna’s domain. But I’m hesitant to read too much into these, given how unclear it is how much is just a manifestation of Ethan’s own anxieties. If anything, the ‘Mia’ in these scenes almost seems to have some far worse secret than simply having not told Ethan something he really ought to have put together on his own, and I’d kind of love to see that explored too – at least as long as that goes somewhere more interesting than round umpteen of ‘and that’s why Mia sucks’.
But my point here isn’t that you have to read any of these scenes the same way I do. I do think it’s important to recognise that nothing written for a game like RE is truly character-driven; scenes exist to serve the plot far more than to reflect consistent character motivations or hold up to fridge logic (which, let’s face it, is the real reason for most of Chris’ horrific behaviour in this game, let alone anyone else’s). The result is rarely super consistent, and leaves ample space for multiple interpretations of anyone’s motivations. Regardless, the idea there’s any hard evidence that Ethan and Mia’s relationship is dysfunctional, or that whatever’s wrong is Mia’s fault alone, is going to be incredibly hard to justify.
Any assertion that Ethan and Mia are somehow on the verge of divorce also needs to be weighed against the masses of evidence of how much they love each other – the number of times Mia has said she loves Ethan, up to and including (yes, I’m bringing this up again) how ready she is to die for him in RE7. Her speech to Chris at the end of RE8 states explicitly that being together with Ethan and Rose is the only thing that matters to her. “Mia, I’m sorry, I love you,” are some of the last words Ethan ever speaks – and I can’t help but read into how the moment he finally pushes Rose into Chris’ arms so they can get away with him weighing them down is right after he learns that Mia is alive, and thus implicitly that Rose won’t be alone if Ethan doesn’t make it. And good god does that scene break my heart every time.
It’s worth recognising that the fact Ethan and Mia love each other doesn’t inherently mean their relationship is healthy, or that you have to love them together as much as I do. Like I said up top, you don’t have to like Mia, and you don’t have to justify not liking her if you don’t. I would genuinely like to see fics where Mia and Ethan’s supposedly-necessary break up feels in character. Where Ethan loves her but just can’t deal with the resentment and the fallout over all the lies she told him, where he's been clinging to his 'happy ending' with Mia after surviving the Bakers so hard he can't face the fact things just aren't working, or where he’s having to face that their relationship only ever really worked because she was away so much. It will break my heart, but fiction is allowed to do that.
But god, it would be nice if people could just take the bashing below an eleven around this place. The number of times I’ve had to sigh and back-button out of reading something, because yet another author has decided to project their own hatred for Mia onto the husband who’s still reeling from watching her being violently murdered in front of him… it gets fucking old, y’know?
I would really like to think that in the year of our lord 2024, fandom would be a bit past this thing where they bash the canonical female love interest in the name of shipping the hero with another dude. People will bend over backwards to try and cast Heisenberg and Chris as guys who really care about consent and worry about Ethan getting hurt, because heaven forbid anyone be caught shipping something slightly problematic. And yet misogyny still somehow gets a pass.
You do not have to love Mia. You don’t even have to like her. But ye gods, the hate she gets is baseless and absurd.
Hasn't this poor woman suffered enough?
(And on that note, I promise I am finally done soapboxing in defence of Mia Winters, thank you for bearing with me for this long.)
#Mia Winters#Ethan Winters#mithan#Resident Evil Village#Resident Evil#Resident Evil 7#RE lore#meta#Mia Winters week
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kinda hope they catch us - andrei svechnikov
summary: 3 times the engagement was a secret and 1 time it wasn't.
word count: 1,698
note: this is a fic written for @isconnormcdavidok as part of a server exchange run by @mp0625 💚
It never ceased to amuse Eva that seeing the other WAGs was like seeing a friend you hadn’t seen in months. It had been 2 days since the last home game, and yet it would still be all hugs, kisses and tell me what I’ve missed. Some of them weren’t at the game so Eva could talk about dragging Andrei along to Christmas with her folks, at least. Everyone else would get a somewhat rehearsed story about her plans for starting the New Year off on the right foot.
It was only ever so hard during the holidays when everyone always expected a big, grand tale every time they saw each other.
And only more so of a big deal because she was keeping a secret.
A large secret.
A secret taking up quite a bit of real estate on her left hand.
1.
Eva sighed at the line up of cars in the driveway and on the street outside her parents’ house. She had tried so hard to not be late for once, and she thought she was doing an excellent job.
Andrei assured her that they were, actually, only fifteen minutes late, which was the most on time Eva could ever remember being and her family would hopefully be impressed by that fact.
They made their way to the front door, arms so loaded with presents that she had to awkwardly press her nose to the doorbell because neither of them could free a hand to let themselves in.
A nervous buzz zipped through Eva’s body, her body bursting to tell her family news they’d been waiting to hear for what felt like forever, and she had her mouth open to spill it as soon as the door opened in front of her—except she was grabbed by the arm, her cousin letting out an exasperated “finally”, and hauled into the living room where the entire family was waiting.
Eva looked at Andrei, about to ask him if this was all his doing, to ask if he’d planned this, only to be met with him staring back at her and about to ask the same thing.
There wasn’t any time to work it out between them, though, because Eva’s sister was pulling her husband in front of them all and announcing that she was pregnant. Eva’s left hand got suddenly heavier.
It didn’t matter, though, that it had to put their plans on hold—and there was no question that that had to be the case—Eva used the now empty couches to unload presents from her arms, taking the ones Andrei was carrying.
“We’ll still be engaged tomorrow,” she whispered to him, the pressure of his hand on her upper back settling her.
His laugh was deep but soft when he said, “I know, Zolotse. I know.”
Eva joined the line to celebrate her sister and the pregnancy that she had all but given up on ever happening.
No effort was made throughout lunch to hide the new engagement ring, not intentionally on her part, anyway. Andrei holding hers hand throughout lunch, or when everyone moved back to the couch after, was the norm so nobody thought anything of it. He just so happened to be hiding the news they’d been so eager to share.
2.
Eva always made an effort to watch Andrei’s home games; she’d very much grown to enjoy over the course of their relationship, having met Andrei very early on in his NHL career. There was a nice rotating cast of significant others and kids who appeared at games, too, and Eva’s relationships with them had become some of her most cherished.
“Are you going to take your coat off?” Courtney asked, tugging at material as she passed Eva. “And gloves?”
Eva balled her hands up and then shoved them under her thighs. Her ring caught on the glove which in turn caught on her jeans, but she wasn’t going to let the cold get to her.
“Are you coming down with something?” Gracia asked, concerned enough to put her hand against Eva’s forehead. “It doesn’t feel like you have a fever.”
“I’m just really cold. I haven’t been able to get warm all day.”
“Jesus Christ, you’re twenty-three not eighty-three. Can you start telling us when it’s about to rain?”
Eva rolled her eyes, insisting that she wasn’t sick or old or anything else. She was cold.
There was a period of time before the game started where people were seeming to give her a wide berth; Eva was unsure if it was because they thought her contagious or if she looked generally unhappy about being at the game. And she wasn’t unhappy to be there; she made that very clear when Nykki finally sat next to her.
“Are you sure? You’re a little grumpier than usual.”
“Because nobody will let me be cold!” Eva protested. “I’m just trying to get warm.”
During the first intermission, a blanket from the team store was delivered. It was mortifying.
Andrei, when they were both home after the game, found it amusing at least, when he saw it laid across their bed where she was waiting for him with the covers tucked up under her chin.
3.
The boys were, yet again, off in a road trip. This time, just for one game in Toronto before they flew back for New Years’ Eve. Eva was out to brunch with most of the younger cohort of WAGs, ready to start ringing in the new year even if it was a day early.
Before she left, she’d spoken on the phone with Andrei as he was rushing out the door to get on the bus for practice.
“I think I’m going to take the ring off,” she had said, spinning the ring around her finger as she spoke.
There was a beat, much thicker than Eva had been expecting, before Andrei asked in a thick voice, “You what?”
“Nobody knows yet, right?” she asked, unsure if Andrei had told any of his teammates. It wouldn’t be a big deal, but she would have expected him to tell her. “Taking it off until you get home won’t be a big deal.”
Another beat followed, and Eva was expecting him to tell her that people already knew, that he was nervous to do so. She was opening her mouth to say that she wouldn’t bother if people already knew—because everyone would definitely know before she left for brunch—but Andrei beat her to it, sounding even more dejected.
“Zolotse… You don’t want a ring? You don’t want to be engaged?”
“Oh, god. Andrei. No. That is not what I mean!” Eva said in a rush, her voice becoming more and more high pitched with each word.
“What you mean?”
“If I take it off, we can tell people tomorrow! Together!” she held her left hand to her chest and bit the inside of her cheek as her eyes started to water. “Andrei, baby, I just want to tell people together. That’s all.”
Andrei asked her softly, a couple more times before he had to leave, to promise him she was telling the truth.
It put a bit of a damper on heading out to brunch, because she found that, even though it had been her idea, taking off the ring was a struggle. Still, she put it delicately on her bedside table, and headed out to see her friends.
+1
Hiding the ring was easy when her hand was securely in Andrei’s as they walked into the New Years’ Eve party. She was filled with nervous energy, and even though the ring was hidden she found herself looking at everyone as if they would be able to tell with just one look at her.
Not that they had up to that point.
They weren’t without drinks for very long as someone seemed to have been tasked with holding a tray right near the doors. Eva, without any input from Andrei, led them straight to where Martin and Nykki were standing off to the side—they were the first people they wanted to tell, after all.
There were handshakes and hugs the second Martin and Nykki noticed their arrival.
“Did you find the non-alcoholic wine?” Nykki asked, gesturing to Eva’s champagne flute and earning a furrowed brow in response.
“No? Why would—no, that’s not what I want to talk about. We have something to tell you.”
“I fucking knew it,” Nykki shouted, immediately turning to Martin and excitedly smacking his chest. “I told you she was pregnant?”
Andrei choked on his drink.
“Pregnant?” he asked, hurried and panicked.
“What the fuck?” asked Eva. “Where the fuck did you get that idea?”
“You’re obviously keeping a big secret.” Nykki’s tone was more accusatory than Eva expected. “You’ve been weird since Christmas, and you were really sick at the game on Saturday, and you’re not drinking—”
Eva cut her off to exclaim, “I had three mimosas at brunch yesterday!”
“They weren’t orange juice? What have you been hiding from us then?”
“This fucking dwarf planet I’ve been wearing for a week?” Eva pulled her hand from Andrei’s to hold it out to Nykki and Martin. “That somehow nobody has noticed? It has gravitational pull.”
Nykki grabbed Eva’s hand so rapidly that Eva was startled, but she let Nykki inspect it closely whilst Andrei and Martin had a silent conversation over Nykki’s excited screaming. It drew the attention of everybody nearby.
There was a lengthy conversation once more of the WAGs gathered, how did he do it? When did he do it? Why didn’t you tell us? And Eva had to try and convince them that she hadn’t meant to—aside from the brunch—it had just ended up that way. Not one of them believed her in the moment.
Her hand was being passed around the group, everyone admiring the ring and asking questions Eva didn’t know the answer to, so Eva caught Andrei’s eye here he was holding court with the boys and nearly melted at the softness of his smile. At the pride behind his eyes. At the love that emanated from his entire body.
#andrei svechnikov fic#andrei svechnikov imagine#nhl fic#nhl imagine#hockey imagine#hockey fic#homemade fic#canes fic#hockey girlies fic exchange
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Senators Shadow
Pairing: Anakin x Reader
Summary: Anakin is your regular Jedi guard whenever your job in the senate brings you to Coruscant which wouldn’t be a problem if he didn’t spend the entire time practically ignoring you making It clear he didn’t really want to be there. Until something changes on this trip and the two of you start to become close.
Warnings: Swearing, some jealous Anakin, scene where the readers being shot at from a crowd, that should be it
Word Count: 10K (may have gotten a bit carried away with this one but I hope its worth it!)
A/N: I’m a sucker for an enemies to lovers type thing plus a jealous Anakin moment so I wrote this to amuse myself (cause what’s the point of being a writer if you can’t write a fic for yourself once in a while?) Easily the longest one I’ve written so I hope you enjoy!!
You never really liked having to be on Coruscant. Things moved too fast here, you were always rushing from one meeting to another, prepping for speeches, consulting others, it often felt like you never got a chance to breathe only making you long for the minute you could leave and go back home.
And the longer you had to stare into Anakin’s eyes, the more you felt that longing grow.
“I appreciate the concern Jedi Skywalker” you addressed the man before you formally, interlacing your fingers and setting them on your desk, pushing forth an air of professionalism and authority “but I do not need a jedi guard for the time that I’m here”
A hint of a smirk graced his lips at your words, however, nothing more than its ghost ever appeared, a twitch in the corners of his lips. Often you wondered if you simply read too much into his expressions. “and I’m afraid your excellency that both the senate and the jedi council disagree”
There was no denying that Anakin was incredibly good looking, even if you tried to ignore that as much as possible, this simple fact was enough to have the people within the capital constantly whispering about him. Beyond this, however, he also had the reputation of being devilishly charming. You never got the chance to know that side of Anakin.
Sometimes you see glimpses of that version of him, you certainly did when you first met him as he introduced himself with a boyish grin and a look that had your cheeks stained scarlet, but since that first encounter it has been nothing but this stoic, aloof jedi that was now before you. And some stupid part of you wondered if it had been something you said that first night that pushed him away.
“Alright this is, however, my person we are talking about” you argued back, fighting down your own annoyance at his persistence “I get final say in what happens to it and that includes whether or not I have someone guarding it”
His answer was quick and to the point, as it always was “that is not how this works”
And oh how you loathed his complete lack of emotion, here you were out on a limb trying to reason with him, trying to compromise, trying to get something, anything out of him and still he responded as if you were little more than a talking brick wall.
“Then tell me Jedi Skywalker” You tried to take a deep breath, tried to calm yourself down, unable to keep the bite completely out of your words “how does this work?”
He leaned back in his chair causally, crossing his ankle over his knee, exuding confidence as he stated simply “either you let me act as your guard or you don’t make the speech next week”
You raised an eyebrow back at him, your voice dropping to a dangerous level “excuse me?”
“the jedi council has it on good authority there is going to be an attempt on your life so the senate is not going to let you on the floor unless they have reason to believe you aren’t going to die upon it” he explained indifferently, as if you were the one being ridiculous here.
“Wouldn’t resources be better spent actually looking for the person threatening my life then?” you pointed out with a sigh, posture slumping over slightly as you spoke, resigning yourself to the shadow being forced upon you for the next week.
“Oh we do have people on that” he assured you “just not me”
“No you’re on guard duty” you rolled your eyes at him.
“I’m on guard duty” he echoed back and you tried to ignore how hollow the words came from him, it would seem he was as happy about this assignment as you were.
And you wished you had a biting remark back for that, not fully ready admit just why his words bothered you so much, but you didn’t, instead you were left staring at Anakin in the chair before you, him doing the same as a brief silence fell over the two of you before a knock at the door broke it, one of your aide’s, head popping through the doorway.
“I have Jace here to see you senator”
You felt the smile grown naturally on your face at the news, unaware that your best friend and quite possibly the only person who could make this week better was even on Coruscant.
“Thank you please send him in” you nodded at her, eyes flicking back down to Anakin’s form, smile slowly dropping from your face as your gaze met his small glare “are we done here jedi?”
“It would appear so” he nodded stiffly, pushing himself up to a standing position, his mouth open, ready to say something when a new voice cut him off.
“Y/N Y/L/N it has been far too long”
A giggle escaped past your lips as Jace slipped into the room with wide arms, you not hesitating to meet him halfway across the room, more than happy to be caught up in his bone crushing hug as a greeting.
“Jace how could you not tell me you were going to be here” you chastised him with a small hit of his arm once he set you down, the grin never once leaving your face, you weren’t sure you could admit to even him how badly you needed someone on your side this week.
“Thought I’d surprise you” he shrugged with a wink and you were so excited to see him you almost missed the other voice as it spoke up from across the room.
“Senator”
Your head whipped around to meet Anakin’s gaze, a raised brow silently asking your question for you.
“I’ll be outside the room”
You didn’t have time to give any response before he was ducking out the door, finally leaving you and Jace alone.
“You have a babysitter” Jace mused with a smirk on his lips as he made his way to the bar cart in the corner, making the two of you a drink without being asked as you slumped down into one of the chairs before your desk.
“I have a babysitter” you groaned. The words, now that they were in the open, cementing themselves in reality “and it just had to be Anakin fucking Skywalker”
Jace snorted as he brought the drinks over, wordlessly handing you one as he sat in the chair next to you “of course it’s Anakin Skywalker, it’s always Anakin”
You furrowed your brow at him, taking a sip of your drink “it is not always Anakin, last time I had Master Obi-wan”
“Because Anakin was on a mission in Crait for nearly a month at that time” Jace pointed out with a smirk making you frown.
“I’m sorry you just know Anakin’s schedule at all times?”
“I knew about it last time because like I said you always get Anakin as security” he chuckled shaking his head at you as if it were obvious.
“I do not” you insisted still, mind racing as you thought back to the last time you had been assigned a jedi that wasn’t Anakin “Just last year I had Master Kuno”
“mmmm when you made that speech denouncing the banking clan” Jace hummed softly as he thought “I believe Anakin was on medical leave then”
You shook your head at your friend, sipping your drink “you do acknowledge that it’s weird that you know that right? It’s important to me that you know that”
Jace chuckled at that shaking his head softly at you “and it’s weird that you’ve never noticed that Anakin, if he is available, is always your guard”
“Alright so the jedi order decided to assign their young padawan to guard the young senator” you thought as you talked, more or less making up your own rationalizations on the spot “pair the two people who are up and coming in their respective careers”
Jace didn’t even bother to refute that, sending you no more than an unimpressed expression with a raised brow. You realized with a sigh you already knew exactly where he was going with this as he opened his mouth to speak.
“no” you held up your finger, interrupting him “don’t even try”
“Y/N it’s obvious” he sighed nearly making you choke on your drink.
“Obvious? Really Jace, obvious?” you nearly laughed “I can’t even get the guy to talk to me for longer than like two minutes”
Jace just shrugged at that, as if it made no difference “He’s a jedi, they’re weird maybe he’s nervous or something”
At that you did laugh, not liking how bitter it sounded out in the open “you’ve seen how he talks to every other woman in the capitol he’s definitely not nervous”
At that Jace froze, a single eyebrow raising as he nearly gaped at you “I haven’t, but I’m very interested to learn that you’ve noticed this”
You groaned inwardly, feeling your cheeks heat up on the spot “that is not the point I’m trying to make”
“It’s the point now” Jace cut you off with a wicked grin “Y/N Y/L/N is there something you want to get off your chest”
“I will have him come in here and throw you out” you threatened, unable to keep the small smile off your face as you did so.
“Hey if you wanted time alone with him all you had to do was say so” Jace held his hands up defensively, smirking down at you.
You nearly threw your drink at him.
-
You would think after all of these trips to Coruscant you would learn to pack properly. That, however, would make things just too easy.
You were prepared for meeting rooms, for the senate floor, for your bedroom. You had professional clothing, comfy clothing, pajamas, you were prepared for anything within the capital building that could take place.
What you were not prepared for was a walk to Dex’s diner.
You were supposed to meet a senator at the diner, the man absolutely insisting on dinner while you were meeting, and you could never really say no to eating at Dex’s.
But you could see Anakin’s look of confusion at your outfit choice as you immerged from your room, the man giving you a simple raised brow but still you refused to give into the embarrassment of admitting to your mistake.
“Is that what you’re wearing?” there was no malice in his question but still you felt your cheeks burning at its asking, looking back down over yourself, pretending to not notice that the clothing was much too light for the cold weather outside.
“Yeah why? Is there something wrong with it?”
“Uh no you look” and Anakin paused here, his eyes scanning your form briefly in a way that had you squirming slightly on the spot, his eyes finally making their way back up to your own, Anakin’s voice much softer than before “you look good Y/N”
And if you had thought you had blushed hard before.... Your gaze was quickly thrown to your shoes, a desperate attempt to hide the blush as you mumbled out a thanks before clearing your throat awkwardly, nodding slightly to the door, Anakin nodding back and stepping aside, letting you exit first.
Keeping your head held high you whisked past him, only regretting your situation as soon as the crisp air hit your mostly bare arms.
Warm clothing, how could you forget any and all forms of warm clothing.
You tried to hide your slight shiver, wrapping your arms around yourself to conserve body heat, rubbing a hand up and down your bicep.
“Where’s your coat?” the voice beside you startled you, all too used to walking in complete silence with Anakin, to nearly tuning the man out completely.
“I forgot to pack it” you shrugged, almost wishing you had something more to say, something to keep the conversation going.
Instead the familiar silence fell back over the two of you as you walked, your mind already starting to tune the jedi out once again when you felt something being draped over your shoulders.
In surprise you froze, Anakin following suit as he came to a stop in front of you, hands still on the ends of his robe that now hung around your shoulders, holding it carefully around you. Slipping your arms into the sleeves you held them up to your eyes taking a moment to admire the simple brown robe, how surprisingly soft it was, the way it smelled like Anakin.
“Am I even allowed to wear this?”
“It’s just a robe” Anakin shrugged, already trying to push past the gesture “besides breaking a rule like that is worth you not freezing”
“but it’s a special jedi robe” you protested “am I going to get special jedi powers now?”
And god help you you saw the corners of his mouth twitch up at that, a laugh that came out as more of a cough following shortly that had your heart skipping a beat in your chest “that’s not how that works. Now come on” he tried to usher you forward but you stopped him.
“Hold on what about you” you asked “aren’t you cold”
And you weren’t sure if Anakin noticed the small smile that grew on his lips, didn’t notice or didn’t care, either way you were glad to finally see it “no I’m okay, let’s just-“ and he paused out of nowhere, smile slowly dropping from his lips as he looked up into the sky.
Furrowing your brows you started to do the same, pausing only as Anakin started to approach you, hands coming just beside your ears as he reached behind you, your breath catching in your throat at his closeness. Slowly, grabbing the hood on the cloak he pulled it forward, shrouding your head in it just as you started to notice the fat water droplets that began to stain the ground beneath your feet.
“keep your hair dry” he all but whispered, taking just a second longer before retracting his hands and taking a step back, turning on his heel and ushering you forward with a nod in that direction “come on let’s hurry”
And then he took off as if nothing had happened, as if that wasn’t the most emotion you had gotten out of him since you had met, as if he hadn’t just spent the last several seconds standing closer to you than was strictly necessary, as if your heart wasn’t hammering in your chest so hard you could feel it.
-
Too much of your mental space the rest of the day was spent trying to come up with ways to get Anakin to interact with you again. Like an itch you couldn’t quite scratch you felt this desire to talk to him again, to see that hint of a smile grace his lips, to see that small twinkle in his eye as he huffed and shook his head in amusement down at you. Something, anything that could clue you into what was going on inside of that jedi brain of his.
Beyond proposing a trip to the library, however, you had nothing.
A small nod was all you got for your efforts before he fell into place behind you, always a few feet back, hands held behind his back, head held high, not a single word uttered in your direction, a true return to form even after what had occurred earlier.
And a part of you scolded yourself for thinking it would ever be different, that you had let Jace’s words weasel their way under your skin like that, that you ever thought you’d be anything other than a job to him.
So wordlessly you led on, entering the library with him in tow, doing as you always did and completely ignoring your shadow’s existence for the time being, trying to turn your mind to the task at hand.
But why had that never been as hard before as it was now?
Taking a brief trip around the shelves, Anakin in tow close behind, it was a bit before you could find the exact copy you needed, of course on the top shelf well outside of your reach.
You took a tentative look back at Anakin to see his eyes wondering aimlessly around the library not even paying attention. And for a brief moment you debated asking him for help, he’d given his cloak so freely the other day, had yet to even ask for it back, you’d taken to the habit of wearing it around your rooms when cold. It had been a crack in the walls he erected between the two of you so long ago.
But it was just that, a crack. You’ve spent years at this point with whatever small amount of time spent in Anakin’s company more or less ignoring him, used to his curt nods and short answers, it wasn’t quite so simple to get over that.
With a small sigh you walked over to a nearby table and grabbed a chair, pushing it back in front of the shelf, giving it a small test with your hands before stepping one foot up.
Anakin was by your side in an instant, hands out before him, coming up to grab you but remaining just a bit too far away “What are you doing?”
“I need a book on the top shelf” you shrugged, pushing your weight onto the foot on the seat of the chair, Anakin shifting closer as you did so.
“Alright then I’ll get it” he urged, “this thing spins would you just get down”
“I’m already up here I’ll get it” you brushed him off, one hand on the back of the chair to steady yourself as you brought your other foot up, trying to react quickly with every small movement in the base of the chair as it swiveled slightly.
“Senator-“ Anakin tried again, practically begging you to get down.
“I’m like two feet in the air I’ll be fine” your hand left the back of the chair and immediately the thing pivoted slightly beneath you, your legs reacting by crouching slightly so you could keep your balance.
“Y/N” and you felt him grab you by the forearm, a shock surging through your arm at his sudden touch, effectively freezing you in place, your eyes coming back to connect with his for the first time, noting the concern they carried. His other hand reached out, a book flying off the top shelf and coming right into his palm, Anakin not even breaking eye contact as he did it “Look I’ve got it would you please get down”
And for a second it was like you had forgotten how to breathe, you can’t even remember the last time he had looked into your eyes so intently let alone touch you, the simple act had left you absolutely breathless with gorgeous blue eyes bouncing back and forth between your own and for the first time you felt what it was like to truly be the sole object of Anakin’s attention. You could feel yourself practically shrink within it, your knees aching slightly though you were quick to blame that on your attempt to balance on the chair.
“Uh-yeah” you hadn’t realized how long you had remained still and silent beneath his gaze until you broke its spell, forcing your gaze from his down to your shoes, using his hand as an anchor as you carefully stepped down, not missing the sharp hiss of air that left Anakin the minute you had both feet on the ground.
“here” he sighed almost in relief, holding the book out to you, you carefully taking it from his hands as he moved quickly to push the chair back to the table you had stolen it from.
Looking down at the cover you couldn’t help but chuckle slightly, casting your eyes back up to Anakin only to see him already looking at you, a faint smile pulling up at his lips “what?”
“I actually need the one next to this one” you bit the inside of your cheek to contain your own smile as he sighed dramatically, looking back up at the self before easily picking the one you needed off of the top.
“Thank you” you traded books with him, just barely catching the slightly wider smile on his lips as he placed the first back on the shelf. And you decided that you liked that smile, liked being its cause.
Wordlessly he ushered you towards the exit with an extended arm, you nodding sheepishly at him before walking out the doors, Anakin’s footsteps as usual following close behind but this time, to your surprise, he sped up once you got to the hallway, falling into step beside you as opposed to behind.
“So what do you need the book for?” The question startled you, your head whipping around to him on instinct though you tried desperately to restrain your surprise, worried expressing too much of it would scare him off.
“Oh-he’s just one of my favorite writers” you tried to keep your tone as casual as possible, only making you worry it sounded forced, you didn’t like how easily you came to second guessing your every move in the jedi’s presence “I’m hoping I could use some of his style to influence my speech, make it sound a little better”
His brow furrowed at that, his gaze never leaving yours as he spoke “why? I like your style”
You nearly stopped walking, quick blinks coming as you tried to wrap your head around his words, the question slipping out of you before you could think better “you’ve seen me speak before?”
“When I’m free” he shrugged as if it were a given, as if there was nothing better for a jedi to do than listen to a junior senator give a speech.
And for the first time you started to wonder if Jace was right, if there was a reason Anakin always ended up as your guard, if there was more to this tough, distant demeanor than you had previously thought.
“Do you want a drink?” You regretted the offer as soon as it left your lips, easily catching the hesitation on Anakin’s face the minute you asked “I just mean I’m going to be up for a little longer and since you’re stuck keeping me company it’s the least I could do” and he seemed to relax slightly at that only making you tack on more “plus as a thank you for grabbing the book for me”
And there was that small smile again, his features lighting up ever so slightly as it graced his lips, your own mirroring it of their own volition.
“Yeah I’d like that”
-
“You did not!” You exclaimed with a loud laugh, hand coming out instinctively to slap his chest as he grinned back at you, smile hid behind his glass as he raised it up.
“I had no other choice” he defended weakly in a voice that told you he had many.
“That make for three ships you’ve crashed in this story alone” you shook your head with a chuckle “you know someone has to pay for those, namely the people of the republic”
“A small price to pay for peace” he shrugged with a lazy grin, taking a sip of his drink.
“Have you tried this thing, I think they call it landing?” You teased earning a chuckle from the jedi, the sound making your cheeks ache as you tried to contain your grin.
“I’m sorry senator how many ships have you ever flown and landed successfully?” he taunted with a raised brow.
And you could blame it on the alcohol, could blame it on the sleep deprivation, could blame it on the cozy atmosphere in the room. But really it was just Anakin that had you pulling out childhood stories, the way he put you at ease, the strange familiar air of a man who’s spent the last several years practically ignoring you. In all honesty this was the most you had ever gotten from the man in terms of real conversation and you weren’t ready to let that go just yet.
“My father actually taught me to fly as a kid” you offered with a soft smile, watching Anakin’s brows shoot up ever so slightly.
“Really?” he prompted simply, leaving the door open for you to continue if you so choose.
“Yeah” you chuckled softly, casting your eyes down to your drink “he loved the freedom it gave him, the idea that he could go anywhere he wanted at the drop of a hat, could live amongst the stars. I think he wanted to instill that same feeling in me”
“and did he?” he asked with a sentimental smile and briefly you felt like he wasn’t just looking at you but rather watching you as you told your story, something you took a strange comfort in.
“He did” you nodded “he died a few years ago and I associate flying with him so much I feel like I’m working to fall in love with it all over again, just this time alone”
And at your words you watched his smile slowly melt off his face, his eyes casting downward into his own drink, and you prepared yourself for the inevitable. The sympathy, the condolences, the pity, instead Anakin surprised you with a story of his own.
“As a kid I was a pod racer, thought I was significantly better than I actually was ya know” he chuckled softly, eyes glancing up at yours for a brief moment before casting back down “but I knew my mother never really approved, thought it was too dangerous, but she always was my biggest supporter despite everything. I had to leave her years ago for the order and sometimes I wonder if I’m reckless now in some ridiculous bid to be closer to her”
“that’s not ridiculous” you shook your head, Anakin’s eyes coming back up to meet yours “it was a comfort to have your mother care for you in that way, only makes sense that when you miss her you seek that sense of comfort all over again”
And he chuckled softly at that, smiling to himself “I suppose you’re right”
And this time you could definitely blame it on the alcohol, or maybe the slight pink hue you thought you could see in his cheeks, but suddenly you felt yourself forcing your next words to the surface, a desperate need taking over you to have them out in the open. “I know we never really do this but I really like talking to you Anakin”
And for some reason the name felt weird on your mouth this time, felt weird being addressed to him rather than said behind his back, yet still you rather liked it.
A small smile grew on his lips as he looked back at you, eyes bouncing back and forth between your own before he spoke “I like talking to you too Y/N”
And you certainly liked the way your name sounded when he said it like that to you, soft and sweet, less a call to attention and more an affirmation.
His eyes darted to the clock and he sighed softly, leaning forward to set his glass on the edge of your desk “Come on its way past your bedtime”
You chuckled softly at that, shaking your head even as you knew he was right “I’m a senator I don’t have a bedtime”
He laughed back at that, taking your glass from you and setting it onto your desk next to his “and senators need 8 hours of sleep just like the rest of us”
“You expect me to believe you get a full 8 hours of sleep a night” you asked with a raised brow, watching in amusement as he shook his head softly from above you.
“Alright like the rest of us except for jedi knights”
Despite that ridiculous answer you relented, hands coming to the armrests of your chair ready to push yourself up when a hand suddenly entered your field of vision, Anakin’s hand offered simply to you. With a slightly furrowed brow you looked up at him as you took it, standing up with his small aide, coming to a position that had the two of you standing nearly chest to chest and instinctively you felt a small panic rise.
Instead his other hand came to the small of your back as he ushered you forward softly, hand slipping easily from your own as you walked forward out of your office, focused entirely too much on the feeling of his touch as it slowly slipped from your back, on the way he fell into step behind you as usual though this time mere inches away instead of feet.
Too quickly you reached the door to your room, spinning around to face him “this is me” you regretted the statement as soon as it left your mouth, wincing slightly at the sound of your own words which just had him laughing softly.
“Need me to clear it?” he asked in a low tone, his voice barely above a whisper as he inched closer “see if there’s a monster hiding under your bed”
“I think I’ll be okay” you chuckled softly back, scolding yourself for the way your gaze slipped down to his lips, the way your fingers twitched, eager to reach out.
The moment of silence stretched and still you felt yourself drifting closer, felt the friendly atmosphere give way to one of thick tension as the two of you stared back at one another, daring the other to give in and make the first move.
Instead Anakin stepped back, the smile slowly slipping from his lips though never entirely leaving “goodnight Y/N”
And with a sigh you couldn’t entirely contain you nodded softly, leaning against your doorway as you watched him walk back down the hall to his own room, “goodnight Anakin”
-
You dragged yourself from sleep with shallow quick breaths, bolting upright in place, eyes desperately scanning the room for anything that looked familiar.
But of course this was Coruscant and nothing really was.
This wasn’t the first time your sleep has plagued by nightmares, nor the first time you’ve woken up unsure of where you were, of what was going on, of where the threat was coming from.
And logically you knew where you were, in your room, safe, with a jedi guard just next door. So you tried to force yourself to take deep breaths, a hand on your chest as if you could physically push the air into you. And for the most part you had succeeded, your breath slowly but surely returning to normal.
But it didn’t rid you of the initial panic, of the overwhelming sense of dread, of the crushing loneliness of going through this in a room that wasn’t your own.
And for the first time your mind jumped to Anakin, afterall he was just next door.
This past day had been the closest you had ever felt to the jedi, approaching something that resembled friendship as he made an effort for the first time to actually talk to you. And based on that you really didn’t think he would mind, even if it was just him sitting in silence next to you, it was nice just having something there.
But still waking him would be welcoming him to a part of you you weren’t sure you were ready to show him yet. It was a level of vulnerability you weren’t ready to show him yet. Not to mention the man was a jedi, faced death on a near daily basis, was always putting himself in dangers way, what right did you have to go to him with nightmares?
Making up your mind you slipped silently out of your room and made your way to the front door, heading as you usually did to Jace’s apartment.
-
You tried to slip out of the room quietly, more than enough experience at this under your belt to know that you could probably force your way through the front door with a sledge hammer and Jace wouldn’t wake up but still wanting to take precautions nonetheless.
Up on your toes you snuck through the door, pressing the button on the other side to close it, waiting till it fully shut to relax, spinning around to begin the trek back to your rooms, when movement out of the corner of your eye caught you off guard. With a small gasp you stepped back from the mysterious object, nearly stumbling over your own feet, when you realized you recognized the mystery man lurking outside of the door.
“Anakin” you breathed out in relief, hand instinctually coming to your chest in an attempt to slow your racing heart “you scared me”
At first he didn’t say anything, stayed leaning against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest, his posture telling you that he couldn’t have been more at ease, but his expression... His jaw was set, clenched hard enough you could see the muscle tensing even from your position, his gaze hard and unflinching as it bore down into you, Anakin was pissed.
“Imagine how I felt when I woke to find your room empty” His tone was cold and biting, as if he were spitting the words at you rather than conversing.
“Alright maybe I should’ve left a note” you conceded “but I figured I’d be back in an hour or two tops, and it’s Jace’s place you’ve met him”
“A note” he scoffed back at you, pushing himself off the wall to come close to you, forcing you to crane your neck in order to make eye contact, refusing to give in and take a step back “What part of this do you not get?”
“What part of what?” you demanded, crossing your own arms over your chest “you found me quite easily what is the harm?”
“What is the-“ he chuckled bitterly as he echoed you under his breath, a hand coming up to pinch the bridge of his nose before he burst “you suck out on me!”
“for like an hour” you protested, rising your voice to match his, not caring at this point who heard you
“That doesn’t matter” he paused briefly between each word, putting emphasis on each as he glared at you “I was tasked with guarding you that means I go where you go, everywhere you go, that means you don’t sneak out on me especially not to just spend the night with some guy” he gestured almost in disgust back at Jace’s door “this isn’t some joke Y/N”
“And I’m not treating it like one” you countered, clenching your jaw as you fought back the urge to push him back “you’ve come with me to everything for the entire time you’ve been my guard, I haven’t left your side, I’m playing by your rules”
“this” he gestured vaguely in your direction, a bitter laugh in the back of his throat “this is not playing by my rules, this is disobeying my orders, and a fucking note is not the correct fix to this situation”
“So I should’ve what? Asked you to escort me to Jace’s room at three in the morning?”
You watched him clench his jaw at that, a harsh glare sent back at you as he silently loomed over you, neither of you saying anything for a few seconds, before a deep breath escaped him, his chest deflating slightly as he grabbed your elbow, pulling you down the hallway “let’s just go back Y/N”
But you weren’t giving up on this so easily, weren’t letting him get away with chastising you in the middle of the hallway like you were a child. You ripped your elbow from his grasp, slowing your pace “I can walk myself”
“Really you sure you won’t get lost?” he condescended with a raised brow, crossing his arms in front of his chest “won’t accidentally end up in some other guys room for ‘just an hour’, I think senator Passel’s in this hall I’m sure you’ve heard the rumors about him”
You reacted without thinking, your hand coming up and slapping him across the cheek before you could fully process your action, though even after you couldn’t find yourself to regret it. And you knew that on some level Anakin had to have let it happen, it was nearly impossible to catch the Jedi by surprise. But the wide eyes he gave back to you could have had you fooled. You watched as his own hand came up to his cheek, touching the skin lightly, him mouth dropping open ever so slightly, his anger completely dissipating on the spot.
Yours, however, had yet to do so “You’re mad I disobeyed your ‘orders’ fine I can take that, but you do not get to treat me like this and you do not get to throw that kind of insinuation at me” you seethed back at him, hands clenched by your side so hard you could feel your nails digging into the palms.
“Y/N” and you name came out of his mouth on an exhale, a hand coming up to your elbow with a touch much softer than before, a plea in his eyes as he said it.
But you weren’t sure you could take any more of being in Anakin’s presence tonight. As you took a step back his hand fell easily from your arm and you tried to ignore the tingle on your skin it left in its place, tried to ignore the lump you could feel growing at the base of your throat, tried to ignore his silent plea for you to come back.
“Goodnight Jedi Skywalker” and before you could crumble you turned and walked back towards your rooms, hearing Anakin’s reluctant footsteps fall into place a few feet behind you.
-
You felt strangely energized the next morning at breakfast, shoveling food into your mouth as you jotted down notes and took pleasure in the fact that Anakin had yet to wake. Perhaps Jedi did need a full 8 hours of sleep. Senators, it would turn out, can survive on a fraction of that in combination with pure spite.
Your eyes barely glanced up at the sound of approaching footsteps that halted a few feet in front of your desk, taking no more than a second to note Anakin’s form as he stood before you.
“Y/N” your name came out of his mouth almost hesitantly, still you refused to look up at him just yet, pretending most of your attention was still captured by the document before you.
“Jedi Skywalker”
You heard a small sigh escape him, a hollow chuckle filling the air “back to titles huh”
“what can I do for you jedi?” you asked, interlacing your fingers and setting them before you, pushing your posture straighter as you looked up at him in front of your desk, not letting a single emotion betray you with your expression.
Another sigh and he held up a piece of paper before you “we’ve received our first official death threat against you” and though you knew it had to be coming a part of you expected to be more shook by the news, expected to be more scared, all you felt at this point, however, was tired. Tired of being on Coruscant, tired of your job, tired of dealing with every consequence that came from these threats.
“Ok” You could see Anakin’s expression melt a little at your simple reply, could see the pity and guilt plain on his face, you wanted neither “anything else?”
Anakin nodded slowly, placing the piece of paper on your desk, taking care to step back from you after he had done so “because of it we’re more or less going into lockdown, the only people permitted access to this room are the one’s on this list provided by your security team”
You scoffed slightly as your eyes scanned the list, noticing immediately that one name was missing “Jace isn’t on here”
Anakin’s tone dropped slightly, his hand going into a fist at his side as he repeated “the only people permitted access to this room are the one’s on this list”
You shook your head, a bitter laugh escaping as you threw the paper down onto your desk “you want me confined to my room fine, restrict who I have access to fine, one of those people will, however, be Jace, not only because he is my friend and I trust him but because he is instrumental to getting the work I need done”
And you could see him clench his jaw from across your desk, an angry hand running through his hair before he crossed his arms over his chest, eyes breaking from yours down to the paper before he sighed “fine”
And that put you off guard, if there was one thing you had learned about Anakin throughout your limited interaction it was that the man didn’t back down easily. Giving him a small nod you all but whispered a thank you, casting your eyes back down to your document, a silent dismissal.
The paper was wordlessly picked up from your desk before he started to leave, a new voice filling the silence left in his wake.
“Y/N I just heard-“ Jace’s voice was cut off suddenly, your eyes coming up from the document to see him in the doorway, held in place with a simple hand on his chest by Anakin, the jedi’s other hand resting on the hilt of his lightsaber as he glared down the man.
“he’s fine” you called out simply, eyes casting back down to the document without a second thought.
But you didn’t hear any change, Jace hadn’t started talking again, there had been no footsteps as he entered the room. Looking back up you saw the two men in the exact same position, glaring daggers into one another, each daring the other to make the first move.
“Jedi Skywalker he’s okay to come in” you instructed Anakin again, watching as the grip on his saber only tightened if anything.
“Anakin”
His gaze snapped to yours at the sound of his name, his expression softening ever so slightly as it did, his grip dropping from the saber.
“he’s okay”
And reluctantly he nodded, hand dropping from Jace’s chest as he righted himself, before his gaze snaped back to Jace, his next words coming out almost as a threat as he spoke them more to your friend than you “I’ll be just outside the door”
-
You’d be lying if you said you had forgotten about the other night, in fact you had done just about everything you could to do so, but despite your best efforts his insinuation still rang loudly in your head, his angry gaze as he spit the words at you still living in your minds eye, the fury that sparked in your chest then had yet to dwindle with time.
You tried to tell yourself that it didn’t really matter, so what if you were seeing Jace like that you were both single there would be no harm done. But another part of you hated the idea of Anakin thinking that, the same stupid, selfish, naive part of you that clung onto his every word and laugh that night.
But you had a job to do, a job that had pulled you halfway across a galaxy away from home to try and convince a small group of relevant senators that your position was correct and morally righteous which would be no small feat. That was exactly why you couldn’t have your attention pulled away from the matter at hand by some guy, least of all some guy as emotionally stunted as Anakin Skywalker.
“Y/N” you ignored the small plea from that very man, pointedly keeping your gaze on your notes as you paced back and forth from behind the stage.
Anakin sighed softly, an anxious hand running through his hair before he tried again “Y/N please I’m sorry I didn’t-“
“No” you cut him off simply, refusing to give him your attention, your anger, your anything. You had a job to do and he was being an active hinderance to that and you were not going to treat him as anything but that “I don’t want to hear it right now”
He nodded softly at that, gaze casting down to his shoes “yeah we can talk after your speech”
You scoffed at that, shaking your head before countering under your breath “or you can go back to ignoring me, I much preferred that”
Anakin furrowed his brow at that, taking a step closer to you “what do you-“
“Senator” one of your aides interrupted you with a smile, nodding her head towards the shut curtain before you “they’re ready for you”
“Thank you” you smiled back at her, squaring your shoulders and facing the curtain separating you from the stage, pointedly ignoring Anakin’s intense stare down at you.
Another soft sigh before he whispered “I’ll be off to the right side in case anything happens” and he was reaching for the curtain before you could respond, most likely knowing that you wouldn’t, holding it open for you to duck under slightly and be met by the bright lights and polite applause you were used to.
You smiled widely at the crowd as you walked up to the podium, setting your stack of notes on top of it and waving, giving them a practiced small nod and a polite “thank you senators”
Slowly the applause dwindled and you were faced with a silent room, milking the sound for just a moment before beginning “I want to thank you all for making time in your busy schedules-“ and you launched into the usual political fluff that began most speeches, stroking the senators egos before you got into the real meat of the issue.
You didn’t make it far, however, before you felt a sudden tug at your elbow, the force strong enough that you were pulled back from the microphone a few steps, a confused murmur making its way through the crowd before you.
Spinning around you followed the hand upon your elbow up to the jedi who owned it, only to see that he wasn’t staring down at you but rather up at the point where the walls met the ceiling, his eyes searching for something that was surely drowned out by the stage lights.
“What’s going on?” you asked him pulling your arm back into you, Anakin’s fingers not putting up a fight against it as he kept his gaze up, searching.
“we need to go” the words were spoken softly and with little weight only confusing you further.
“Anakin what-“ he cut you off before you could even get the question out, crashing his body into yours as he tackled you to the floor, arms wrapping around you to break your fall as he ducked the two of behind your podium. And you were ready to ask him again what was happening when you noticed it, a new burn mark on the wall just behind where your head had been moments ago.
It was only then that you realized the world had fallen silent on your ears, your mind tuning out the panicked yells and scraping of chairs as the people you had just been addressing scrambled for the exit.
Then there was a blaster sound.
The podium before you shook as it took the brunt of the shot, the furniture groaning telling you it wasn’t going to be able to take much more.
With wide eyes your gaze finally connected with Anakin’s to find his already on you, your name on his lips though you don’t remember hearing it.
“What?” You asked much too softly for the sound level in the room, a small look of relief still edging into Anakin’s eyes as he looked at you.
“There’s a door behind you to your left, I’ll cover you you make a break for it on the count of three” he instructed loudly but still calmly, the small panic in his eyes doing a fantastic job of never making its way to his voice. You nodded quickly at him, eyes darting over your shoulder to take a quick look at the door. His hand came up and squeezed your shoulder softly, pulling your gaze back to his “stay low okay. 1..2..3 go”
There wasn’t a moments hesitation before you broke for the door, no drop of doubt in Anakin’s promise to cover you before you left the safe haven of the podium, throwing yourself at the door to force it open and pushing it back closed behind Anakin the second he was through.
He never let up, however, not wasting any time before he grabbed you by the hand and pulled you off the door and down the hallway, you never fully being able to escape the panicked screams from that room.
“The others in there” you protested weakly, letting Anakin pull you further and further away from the room.
“Not important right now” he answered harshly, taking seemingly random turns down a labyrinth of hallways.
And your mind was spinning too much to protest any further, still struggling to bridge the gaps of the last few minutes and comprehend what had happened “did you see them?”
“No” Anakin grumbled “but I think the shot came from the vent system”
“So they could be anywhere by now”
Anakin didn’t respond to that, dragging you a few more feet forward before coming to an abrupt halt before a door you didn’t recognize, eyes checking both ways down the hall before throwing it open and ushering you inside, shutting the door behind the two of you.
It was jarring how silent it was within the room, the way the entire world seemed to suddenly stop spinning, finally giving you the chance to catch your breath, your mind reeling in such a way that made you wonder if you even really wanted the silence.
“Okay” Anakin spoke up, hand coming back to your shoulder, thumb hooked softly under your chin to physically pull your gaze to his as he hunched over slightly “you stay in here I’ll go-“
“What-“ the question came out before he could even finish his statement, your head shaking rapidly as you took a step back from him “you’re leaving me in here?”
“Just for a bit I need to track down-“
“No I can’t-” you interrupted him again, the same panic as before surging within you as you shook your head again, an anxious hand bunching up in your hair as you started to shift your weight from foot to foot “you can’t just- you can’t leave me here alone”
“Hey hey” and you could see his attempt to calm you down as he reached out, could see the fight behind his eyes between staying with you and finding the guy who shot at you, his hands resting on both of your shoulders halting your nervous movement “you’ll be safe in here but I need to track down-“
“Please” you interrupted him again, your single world making his argument die on his lips, his expression freezing slightly at the sound of it “Please Ani don’t leave me”
And you watched his chest deflate, a small nod before he answered “okay”
Before you could think better of it you surged forward, wrapping your arms around his torso, burying your face into his chest. Again there was a moment of hesitation, a brief hiccup before his arms wrapped around you in response, and you heard him mumble against your hair “I’ve got you, it’s going to be okay”
And at that words you let a shaky breath out, feeling the weight on your chest decrease slightly at the promise, nodding softly against him before slowly letting go, untangling your arms from him “Thank you”
His eyes bounced back and forth between your own for a second before he nodded softly, taring his gaze from you as he stood up straighter, taking a good look around the room “We’ll just wait here for a bit, the rest of the order is going to be working on tracking the shooter down”
You nodded back at him again, taking a few steps aside to rest against the wall, finally fully feeling yourself relax as a comfortable silence fell between the two of you.
“I really am sorry for what I said the other night” the sudden voice breaking the silence caught you by surprise, your brows furrowing as you looked up at him “I was angry and I took it out unfairly on you and for that I’m sorry”
“Is now really the time to be doing this?” you asked with an edge of frustration to your voice, trying to hide it behind a soft laugh.
“You’ve been refusing to talk to me, now’s the first time I’ve really had your attention” he shrugged as if it were the obvious conclusion.
“yeah well try dealing with that for about three years then you’re allowed to complain about feeling ignored to me” you grumbled crossing your arms over your chest, unsure if you had really wanted him to hear those words or not.
His brows furrowed as he looked down at you, genuine curiosity on his voice as he asked “what does that mean?”
And a part of you wanted to scoff, as if he hadn’t noticed how he’d treated you for the entirety of knowing him “This trip is the most I’ve ever talked to you” you huffed, pointedly avoiding eye contact with him “When I first met you you were nice and talkative and normal, and all of a sudden the next time I’m around you’re nothing but cold and distant, could get barely more than two words out of you at a time. Made me wonder what I had done wrong”
You heard his deep sigh at your words, eyes glancing up at his form to see his gaze planted on his shoes, a soft reply coming in a voice you almost couldn’t hear “you didn’t do anything wrong”
Another silence passed between the two of you before you broke it, unsure exactly why you felt the need to justify yourself to him “I get nightmares sometimes, nothing too bad but sometimes it’s like I forget where I am and I can’t breathe and I just need someone there to anchor me, to remind me that I’m okay. Jace has been that person for me a lot so when I woke up I sought him out, I really didn’t think about how I was sneaking out behind your back”
Another sigh came from across the room before you heard a back sliding against the wall, eyes casting up to see Anakin had moved to sitting on the ground, back resting against the wall, eyes planted somewhere across the room before he laughed almost hollowly “I’m an idiot aren’t I”
And you couldn’t help but chuckle at that, moving to sit down next to him, careful to keep a good amount of distance between the two of you as you did so “I mean I certainly won’t argue with you on that point”
And this time his chuckle was realer, a warm sound you felt yourself despite everything drawn into “you know you could’ve come to me”
“If the roles were reversed” you asked him with a soft, sad smile “would you have come to me?”
And he sighed at that, gaze breaking to study your face for a moment, before he shook his head “no I suppose I wouldn’t have”
Another silence fell between the two of you, this one considerably less uncomfortable than the ones before, and for a brief moment you wondered where exactly this left you and Anakin, certainly closer than before but friends? Is that what you wanted? Is just that what you could be okay with?
“The jedi have a code” Anakin’s voice pulled your attention smoothly back to him, finding him a few inches closer than before, you weren’t sure who it was that had shifted “we can’t form attachments”
And you found yourself focusing on how hard the words seemed to be for him to say, how he was practically pulling them out of himself, you eagerly latching onto each one, nodding softly.
“So when I met you and you were incredibly nice and funny and easy to talk to…” he let the end of his sentence hang in the air, let the implication remain unsaid “Obi-wan noticed it before I did, was over my shoulder reminding me of the code right away and I figured if I remained distant then I wouldn’t be tempted to break it”
You felt the air leave your chest realizing that hearing it form Jace was one thing but from Anakin himself was completely different, the last few years spent around him clicking into place in your mind and you felt the need to reach out to him, if not to just hold his hand in yours. “Then why are you my guard every time I need one on Coruscant” you asked instead, forcing the distance back, giving Anakin what he wanted, what he said he wanted “Wouldn’t it have been better to avoid me entirely?”
A bitter laugh came forth at that, Anakin throwing his head back against the wall as he stared up at the ceiling “yeah, yeah it would have.” He paused briefly, a small smile pulling up at the edges of his lips “do you know how excited I get every time I hear you’re going to be on Coruscant? I tell myself every time that I just want to make sure you’re safe, that I want to be able to see for myself that no harm comes to you, but I know they’re all just excuses. Because even if it’s in complete silence I relish every moment spent in your presence”
And a huge part of you felt relief at his words. Relief that your feelings were reciprocated, relief that he didn’t actually hate you as you suspected, relief that it was all finally out in the open. But still there was a new weight on your chest, the burden of the jedi code no longer resting on Anakin’s shoulder’s alone, a burden that as not a jedi it felt unfair for you to carry.
“Where does that leave us now?” you asked quietly, eyes bouncing back and forth between his hopefully.
“The jedi order have their faults” he started after a bit, gaze skipping around the room, everywhere but meeting yours “there’s a few things I just don’t agree with them on and one of them is that having attachments makes me a worse jedi, I’m starting to wonder if remaining at a distance from you is really worth it, after this past week I’m not sure I can do it anymore”
“what if I don’t want you to remain at a distance?” you asked softly, watching almost with amusement as Anakin’s gaze rushed to meet your own, his eyes searching yours with hope for sincerity.
Finally his lips turned up at your words, he gaze flicking down to your lips for a moment, inching himself closer still till your shoulder grazed his “Darling if that’s the case then I shall live to make you regret asking me to stay close”
#anakin x reader#Anakin Skywalker#anakin skywalker x reader#anakin fanfiction#anakin skywalker imagine#anakin imagine#anakin fic#anakin x you#anakin x y/n#anakin skywalker fic#anakin skywalker x you#star wars fanfiction#star wars imagine#star wars x you#star wars x reader
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Nothing to Gain - Azul
Author Notes: I'm honestly not sure how I feel about this fic. Part of me really likes and another part of me.... Either way, I decided I might as well post it since I really didn't know what I wanted to post for this week. This fic was written while I listened to "Whataya Want From Me" by Adam Lambert which definitely affected the overall tone of this fic. As per usual, reader is gender neutral. I hope you enjoy!
Type: Gender-netural reader/ fluff/ some angst/ pining/ romance/ mentions of Octavinelle and Scarabia overblot so spoilers for those chapters
Word Count: 1820
There was something frightening about relying on others. It was something that Azul had noticed before and was the reason he preferred to surround himself with only the most reliable individuals.
He could rely on them, and they could rely on him.
But his overblot had shaken him to his core. He’d questioned even his most basic beliefs about himself, and, to be honest, he still wasn’t entirely sure what to think of the events of that day.
However, neither Jade nor Floyd had changed their opinions of him or abandoned him after that day, as he’d feared they would. Instead, they remained by his side, as they always did. But there was a benefit to being there. Even after his overblot, Azul was still housewarden and had a say in how the Octavinelle dorm was run.
There might be some cost, but the benefit was great enough that the twins stayed, and Azul was comfortable with that. He understood it.
What he didn’t understand was you.
You stood nothing to gain by being kind to him and supporting him. If you were a normal person, you would either attempt to blackmail him or avoid him. Only allowing enough interaction to show how much you detested him for what he’d put you through.
But you apparently weren’t a normal person. Because you stayed by him and helped him through the aftermath of the overblot.
Soothing the fleeing students whom he’d robbed of their spells and talents. Assuring them that all was well and such a thing wouldn’t occur again. Reminding them what a good, competent housewarden he was.
It hadn’t been easy, and it had taken you, Jade, Floyd, and Azul all working together to cover up everything that had happened and finally put his overblot to rest. And the entire time you were there, it made him nervous.
But at least after it was done, you would leave. That only made sense. There was no reason for you to stay past that point.
Azul had surmised that you must just be one of those people who liked to see their work done. Sort of like Jack, who’d been with you since the very start, even though he quite obviously had a distaste for both Azul and the tweels.
And, as expected, Jack left as soon as everything was settled. He had no further business with Octavinelle, and all was well on that front. But you didn’t leave.
Rather, you kept appearing in the very fringes of Azul’s vision. Smiling and offering a wave that was always returned by at least one of the tweels, as Azul found himself faltering.
Why were you still here? There was nothing to gain.
By the time winter break had come, he’d come up with a new plan and explanation for your strange behavior. You were always around because you wanted remuneration for your services. That made sense.
Having the tweels offer you a place to stay over winter break with an ever-benevolent warning about the fee was easy enough. An offer for your payment that wasn’t grounded in worry for the fact you were staying in the most run-down building on campus, no matter what Floyd said.
But you hadn’t accepted, and Azul was lost once more. You’d turned the offer down with a fond smile, joking that you didn’t want a bill like the one his offer would mean hanging over your head.
But that was that. Azul was sure he wouldn’t hear anything from you, at least until the next school year had begun. And by then, he would surely have figured out what it was that you wanted.
But he did hear from you. You’d quite literally crashed into the Mostro Lounge, landing in a heap on the ground. Covered in sand and trembling in fear as you’d looked up at the horde of angry Scarabia students that had come to collect you.
And Azul repaid you right then and there. He’d shielded you from those who’d sought you out and handled that matter promptly.
It wasn’t as if there had been no reward for his actions after all. He’d assured himself that this was all just to get information on how, exactly, you’d managed to upset the students of Scarabia.
And that had led to another debacle, not entirely unlike what had happened to him. Jamil’s overblot.
Despite what Jade and Floyd may have teasingly suggested, Azul knew he’d only assisted you to give himself an in to winning over Jamil. And as for you spending the night safely in Octavinelle under his and the tweels protection for free one night…. That was just another part of his plan. Nothing odd at all.
By the end of the winter break, he’d repaid you, now had a perfectly good excuse to seek Jamil out for conversation, and everything was as it should be.
Or rather, it should have been.
Some part of Azul had seemed to grow cold when he’d seen you run into Ace and Deuce’s arms just after the Scarabia overblot, though. Perfectly happy to leave him behind in favor of your two friends.
And now Azul was having to question himself. Why did that upset him? He’d wanted you gone and handled because there had been no reason for you to be around him. Your lingering had made no sense, and his moroseness was equally ridiculous.
…. Right? Azul wasn’t expecting much as the next term started. He was fully prepared to go back to the way things were. With you hardly ever noticing his presence, while he would do his very best to ignore yours.
But he didn’t have to ignore you. Because as soon as he saw you in the hallway, you were turning to look his way. A smile on your face and a hand raised in cheerful greeting.
And suddenly Azul was frightened. What did you want? Why did you seem so happy to see him when you had your friends right by your side?
There was no benefit to staying near him, and you had seen him at his weakest, lowest, and most vile. So shouldn’t you want to have nothing to do with him?
He’d overblotted and attacked not only you but your friends. There was no reason to look so happy in this instance.
In his confusion, Azul found himself walking towards you quickly. Stopping as you looked at him with a slightly startled expression.
“Angelfish, if we might talk,” He started before glancing at both of the young men who flanked you with confused expressions that matched yours, save the wariness in their eyes.
“Alone,” He finished a little more firmly than he’d intended, but if you noticed, you didn’t react.
Instead, you just nodded, a slightly uncertain smile appearing on your face as you responded, “Okay.”
You waved off your two obviously concerned friends and followed Azul without a single concern. Only confusion.
Like you really did trust him. Like you really weren’t concerned in the slightest by his reputation or the things you knew that he did.
As if his past actions didn’t bother you and you weren’t the slightest bit upset by how he’d attempted to shoo you away with paltry offerings.
And it frightened Azul. He didn’t know what you wanted, and he didn’t know what he wanted.
It was only once he was sure it was only the two of you that he turned to face you once more. Dropping any facade he had of confidence the very moment his eyes met yours.
“What do you want from me?” His voice quivered slightly, but he stood firm as you looked at him with utter confusion.
But then, as if you saw something in the depths of his pale blue eyes, your expression shifted to one of concern for him, and you stepped closer. Your voice dropping to a whisper that was perfectly filled with loving worry and that only made Azul feel more lost than he had before, “Azul? What do you mean?”
Azul had lived the entire first part of his life in the very deepest part of the ocean, but he knew that in this moment he was well beyond his depth.
Because suddenly all Azul could really think was that he didn’t want to let you down. Not when, as your simplistic question had just evidenced, you’d never been with him for any ulterior motive.
No, you stayed for a reason that Azul himself was only just now beginning to understand. You stayed because you cared for Azul, and that was enough.
And, looking back, Azul knew all those things he’d done in the past…. Offering you a room in Octavinelle for a fee only to waive that fee the very moment you’d appeared in front of him, frightened and covered in sand…. All of that had been him not wanting you to come to harm.
Because even after seeing him at his most shameful, you hadn’t judged him as weak, untalented, or anything less. Instead, you looked at him like he had just as much worth as anyone else here.
And you genuinely cared for him. In your own way, you’d been supporting him ever since then, as he leaned on you without even realizing it.
Knowing all of that now, it felt wrong to ask you what you wanted. Because was it really you that wanted something, or was it him?
You continued to look at him, worriedly searching his eyes for an answer as one of your hands reached up to cup his cheek, “Azul?” Your voice was so soft, and it nearly broke him as he realized exactly how wonderful you were and how it didn’t make any sense for you to be here with him when he was so perfectly broken.
But he inhaled, a smile working its way onto his face as he let his hand cover your own, “I’m sorry, Angelfish. I… Just don’t give up on me yet.”
Your eyes widened as his hand wrapped around yours and pulled it from his face before squeezing it lightly, “I’m having to work all of this out and…”
He trailed off, faltering as he searched for words, but you only smiled. Shaking your head slightly before you responded, “No, I understand. You need time, and what happened to you… It messed you up.”
Azul nodded, half-touched that you could still be so understanding despite the confusing circumstances he’d put you in, and half-disappointed in himself.
Because he could only hope that you would keep appearing in peripheral vision and helping him get through the difficult days.
And he would do his best. He was slowly coming to understand what it was to care for someone without a cost-benefit relationship. And even if he didn’t know exactly what he wanted from you, he would with time, and he would repay you tenfold for everything you’d given him.
#Twisted wonderland imagines#briarvalleyarchives#Azul x reader#azul ashengrotto#Twisted wonderland#Twisted wonderland x reader#gender neutral reader#potential spoilers for octavinelle and scarabia#Octavinelle#mentions of overblots#Azul x you#Azul x y/n#twst#Twisted wonderland x y/n#Twisted wonderland x you#fluff#romance#pining#some angst#mywritings#it-happened-one-fic#twst x reader#twst x you#twst x y/n#Disney TW#Disney fanfiction#fanfic#fanfiction#fic
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You Drive Me Crazy (But It Feels Alright)
Lee Jihoon (Woozi) x Female Reader
Genre: angst, fluff, smut, fake dating au, 90s au, ex-best friends au, and heavily based off the movie You Drive Me Crazy
Word Count: 15.2k (IM SO SORRY🙃 )
Warnings: language, mentions of terminal illness and death, bullying, drinking, drunken bad ideas, mentions of medicine, cheating, breakups, general college debauchery, making fun of furs in the fashion industry (used only to go with the 90s vibes), lots of feelings and oppressing them, jokes and conversations about sex, making out and kissing, and mentions of vomiting.
Smut Warnings: a little dry humping, semi public sex in a backyard treehouse? and protected sex (honestly the smut in this is pretty vanilla)
Rating: 18+
A/N: After forever, I’m excited to present this fic to you. I have never written anything this long before so once again I am sorry. Thank you to @beomcoups and @mingsolo for hosting the Now That’s 90’s! collab, as a 90s kid myself it was my pleasure to participate. Please go check out all the other amazing writers who joined as well!
Special thanks to Indi @playmetheclassics and Sammie @slightlymore for beta reading this monster for me. You guys are the best and I love you 💕 ~Bee
Network tags: @kbookshelf
With one last glance at your appearance in the mirror, you grabbed your bookbag from the chair in the corner of your room. You headed down the long curved staircase before opening the front door of the sorority house.
You were almost going to be late, and to make matters worse, you came face-to-face with your enemy at the end of the driveway. Which wasn’t that unusual since he walked this way too, despite living further away, but you tried your best to avoid him anyway.
“Ew, what are you doing here?” Jihoon asks, walking past you at the driveway and lifting his lip in disgust.
“I live at the sorority, remember, asshole?” you spat, hating the fact that you had to walk in the same direction to get to campus. You two had been this way for a long time now, and it had become a habit to be prickly toward him.
It hadn’t always been like that, though. In fact, you guys used to be best friends, completely inseparable. At least until his mom got sick when you were in junior high, and he started hanging out with some different people and getting into trouble. You then got in with the popular kids, and you and Jihoon have become enemies ever since.
You two walked stiffly beside each other as you reached the edge of campus, and Jihoon’s friends appeared. Seokmin put him in a small headlock, and Seungkwan gave you a small smile while Wonwoo just shook his head. You actually knew his three best friends as well. You all used to hang out way back when. You smiled meekly back before arms wrapped around your shoulders, and your boyfriend, Johnny, had found you as well.
“Hey, babe,” Johnny said, smacking a kiss near your ear. You resisted the urge to cringe. He was in the popular crowd too, a football player. While he wasn’t that bad and was easy on the eyes, he was boring, only caring about football and whatever party was next to attend. You missed having someone with a level of intelligence, someone you could debate things with like you used to do with Jihoon. It didn’t matter, though. You were enemies now, and nothing would change that.
You made it through your first few classes, and you were having lunch in the courtyard with Johnny along with what you considered the entire popular crew, including your best friend, Jennie. You sat at a long table, eating a sandwich while everyone talked about the next football game and a party at Mingyu’s that was happening later.
Across the courtyard, you spotted Jihoon in your line of vision, his girlfriend pushing him against the concrete wall, practically sucking his face off. You swallowed a bite of your sandwich, trying not to gag. Just as you turned away from the sight, Seungkwan was walking past. Before you could stop him, Johnny pretended to accidentally put his foot out in front of him. Seungkwan tripped over it, dropping the food he was carrying all over the ground and falling forward. The entire table erupted in laughter as Johnny retracted his foot like it had never been there. “Having trouble walking, Kwannie?” Johnny’s best friend, Mark heckled.
Seungkwan looked at Mark and Johnny with loathing. You got up, giving Johnny and Mark a glare. “What? We were only having some fun,” Johnny said innocently. You threw what was left of your food in the trash and walked over to Seungkwan. You stuck your hand out, letting him grab it and helped him up from the ground.
“Thanks, Y/N. You know you didn’t have to,” he said.
“I know, Seungkwan, but it’s not like I hate you too,” you said softly.
“See you around,” he said, a sad smile on his face before he walked out of the courtyard.
Later that evening, you were getting ready for Mingyu’s party with Jennie because both she and Johnny insisted you had to appear. “So, our sorority ball is coming up…do you think Johnny is going to ask you soon?” Jennie asked.
“Yeah, I’m sure he’s going to. I mean, who else would I go with?” you said, brushing off her question. You were helping plan the entire thing, and he knew it was important, so there wasn’t any reason why he wouldn’t be asking you.
She nodded, but her face said she was skeptical. “What about you? Has anyone asked you yet?” You turned the question around on her.
“No, but I’m sure Mingyu or Taeyong will ask. It’s not like I don’t have options,” she bragged, and you struggled to hide your contempt. While you were part of the popular crowd, Jennie had always been the most popular. Others were more drawn to her than you.
You escaped the rest of the conversation with Jennie when it was interrupted by a honking sound, indicating Johnny was there to pick the two of you up to go to the party. You both walked outside and as you approached his truck, you heard music blasting out of the open windows. Mark was in the front passenger seat while you and Jennie slipped in the back with Mark’s girlfriend, Miyeon.
Miyeon waved at you and you barely got your seatbelt on before the truck lurched forward, making its way down the road towards Mingyu’s house. “Who’s ready to dominate at pong tonight?” Mark bragged.
“Yeahhhhh,” Johnny enthused, reaching over to bump Mark’s fist with his. You rolled your eyes and looked over at Jennie. She just shrugged at you like it wasn’t as big of an annoyance as you were making it out to be.
The truck swung into the driveway of Mingyu’s house, and as Johnny cut the engine, it was replaced by the louder sounds of the house party. More music blasted from the back of the house where the pool was, and you could hear the sounds of splashing along with the hum of many people conversing at once.
You followed behind Johnny as you weaved through the house, making your way to the kitchen for a drink. The large island was littered with many types of alcohol and random snacks. The signature punch bowl filled with some sort of pink liquid had also made its usual appearance, but you had made that mistake enough times and knew better enough to stay far away from it.
You grabbed a red solo cup from the stack on the counter, making a mixed drink out of some random soda and liquor that sounded decent. It looked like Johnny had done the same and was pulling you by the hand to go out in the backyard where Mingyu and the rest of their buddies were. Jennie was already cozying up and dancing with some guy you didn’t recognize, likely from another university.
Meanwhile, Jihoon was on a date with his girlfriend, Shayla at a weird little bar across ton. Well, it was supposed to be a date, but all Jihoon had done was down beers while Shayla listened to some guy on the stage in front drone on about how real furs were being used in the fashion industry.
Jihoon hated how Shayla was looking at this guy, like he was the one single-handedly stopping the usage of real furs. Never mind the fact that she was on a date with Jihoon, her boyfriend. Jihoon scowled as he chugged beer after beer.
He didn’t even notice how drunk he was until he got up and the room started spinning slightly. Stumbling over his chair, he looked over to find that Shayla had gone to the edge of the stage and was actively flirting with the fur guy. Jihoon needed to go to the bathroom and then he needed to get out of there.
As he was washing his hands in the bathroom, he stared at his reflection in the mirror and realized he had started to sober up rather quickly, but he had ridden here with Shayla. Jihoon found the pay phone near the door of the bar. The opening and closing of the door created cold rushes of air, sobering him even more. He called one of his best friends, who also happened to be a designated driver for when the popular kids had parties.
After feeding the pay phone the correct amount of coins and dialing the number, Wonwoo’s voice picked up after a few rings. “Jihoooonnnn, what’s up?” Wonwoo asked.
“Can you come get me from that stupid bar Shayla likes? I drank, and Shayla drove here,” Jihoon explained.
“And you aren’t coming back with her?” Wonwoo questioned. Jihoon looked back toward the table he had been at with Shayla, only to find her making out with the fur dude.
“No, we broke up,” he said, bitterly.
Wonwoo sighed. “Alright, I’ll come get you before we head to pick someone up at Mingyu’s party,” he said before hanging up.
Jihoon hung up the line on his end and made a beeline back to where Shayla was. He tapped on her shoulder, breaking her from the make-out session, and immediately her face turned into one of someone who had been caught.
“We’re done, Shayla,” Jihoon said, rather dryly. He turned on his heel, not waiting for a reaction from her and walked out of the bar to wait for Wonwoo outside in the parking lot.
When Jihoon was busy drowning in beers at the bar, you were also having an unfortunate turn of events. The party started out fine, you were having a good time dancing with Johnny and it progressed into being his partner for beer pong against Mark and Miyeon.
Unfortunately, you and Johnny were losing. It started out okay, Johnny was being a bit of a gentleman and was drinking for you, but that was leaving him pretty smashed. It was Mark’s turn and he had gotten the ball in another cup, making Johnny drink yet another cup of beer.
Johnny stumbled backward, spilling most of the contents of his cup on a girl who was walking behind him. It was like a scene from a movie, you watched as Johnny apologized to her and their eyes met each other’s. Anyone around could have seen the immediate connection.
You originally tried to brush it off but with Johnny being as drunk as he was, it was apparent that something was bound to happen. Later, when you had come inside to use the bathroom, you would find Johnny and that girl sucking face right next to the bathroom door.
A screamed breakup and way too many drinks later, Jennie had called a designated driver to take you home. You sat on Mingyu’s front porch, sulking and watching the world spin when Wonwoo’s car pulled up.
“Hey there, Y/N,” Wonwoo said, getting out of the driver's seat and approaching you on the porch. You gave him a nonchalant peace sign before noticing he had another passenger in the car.
“Oh, great. That’s just the thing to top off my night, being stuck in a car with Jihoon while I’m drunk,” you said sarcastically, letting Wonwoo lead you down the steps and toward the car.
“I know, Y/N, but he called me too, and he is my friend as well. Try to bear with it, and you’ll be home soon enough,” Wonwoo said, knowing full well the relationship, or rather hate-ship, between you and Jihoon.
You rolled your eyes but slid into the seat next to Jihoon as Wonwoo shut the door after you. “Seriously, Wonwoo? This is who you needed to pick up from Mingyu’s party?” Jihoon’s annoyance was evident. Already tired from your rant, Wonwoo just gave him a hard stare in the rearview mirror.
Leaving the party, the car was silent until Wonwoo brought up the reason for picking you up. “Y/N, you aren’t one to get that drunk at these parties. Jennie may have mentioned something happened..”
You pulled your sweater around you and grumbled. “Johnny got too drunk, and after some weird drama connection shit, I found him and a girl from another university making out. He claims they ‘fell in love’,” you explained, using air quotes at the end.
“So you broke up?” Jihoon’s question surprised you, but you were too tired and drunk to actively be rude to him
“Yeah, we broke up,” you confirmed.
“Seems to be the theme tonight,” Wonwoo mused from the front seat.
Confused, you looked over at Jihoon who was picking at his hands and looking at something particularly enthralling on the floor of the automobile. So, he and Shayla must have broken up as well. You felt that was interesting since they seemed attached at the hip, attached at the mouth too. Jihoon looked out the window now, and you saw a hurt in his eyes that he so seldom showed, but it was a familiar vulnerability that you remember from when you were kids.
“We’re here, Y/N,” Wonwoo announced, and you realized he had pulled up in front of your sorority house. You didn’t know if it was the alcohol or being in an enclosed space with Jihoon that messed with your perception of time, but you were home quicker than you expected.
“Oh. Um, thanks, Wonwoo,” you mumbled, pushing the passenger door of the car open.
“Are you good? Can you get to the door okay?” Wonwoo asked.
“Yeah,” you responded, swinging your heavy-feeling feet out of the car before shutting the door a little harder than you meant to.
Jihoon watched as you stumbled down the walkway and nearly smacked yourself in the knee when you opened the front door of the sorority, a chuckle escaping him. “Was that a laugh I heard?” Wonwoo asked, turning around in his seat to scrutinize Jihoon’s expression.
“No…” Jihoon mumbled and cleared his throat. Wonwoo just shook his head, turned back to the front and pulled away from the sorority house to drop off his friend.
“So, are you really that broken up about Shayla?” Wonwoo inquired, filling the five-minute drive with conversation.
“Honestly? Not really. I’m more upset about the way we broke up rather than the actual break up,” Jihoon explained, his hand running at his bangs in annoyance.
“Seriously. Out of everyone she could have kissed, it was some dumb activist guy at the bar. Now that you guys are over, I can say this, but Seok, Seungkwan, and I didn’t really think she fit with you. You deserve so much better,” Wonwoo ranted on Jihoon’s behalf.
The car had pulled up in Jihoon’s driveway while they were talking, and Jihoon slapped a hand on Wonwoo’s shoulder as he got up from the backseat. “Thanks, Woo. I know you guys didn’t care for her much, so now it’s ancient history,” Jihoon said, leaving Wonwoo alone in the car and making his way up his front porch steps.
He had barely gotten into the house and gone up the stairs to his room to flop onto his bed when the phone rang. “No, Seokmin. For the final time, we are not adding dancing suns to the music video edit,” Jihoon said into the phone automatically, not even bothering to say a greeting first.
“Uh, what?” you asked, confused.
Hearing your voice on the other line caused Jihoon to sit upright immediately. “Y/N? How did you get this number?” he questioned, surprised.
“I remembered it..” you said, softly. As much as you hated Jihoon, your memories of your childhood remained, and that included his phone number.
“Oh. So..why are you calling?” he asked, falling back onto his bed.
“I had an idea. What if...we dated each other?” You stated your idea, twirling the phone cord around your finger.
“What if we what? Y/N, you’re drunk,” Jihoon exclaimed.
“I'm not anymore, just hear me out. Not really dating but just pretending so that we could get what we wanted. I’d get to go to the sorority dance that I worked hard to plan and maintain my status while making Johnny jealous, and you’d get to show Shayla that she made a big mistake,” you blurted out your crazy idea.
“I don't know where you got this insane idea, but you should drink some water and take an ibuprofen for the nasty headache you’ll have in the morning,” he said, sighing.
“I’m serious, just think about it okay? Goodnight, Ji,” you said, his old nickname rolling off your tongue easily.
Jihoon sighed again, “Good night, Y/N,” and he hung up the phone before falling asleep.
Your sleep was invaded by the sunlight shining in through your window, and as you opened your eyes, the splitting headache that resulted from last night's events made itself known. You sat up in bed slowly, pressing the palm of your hand against your eyes as if that would help when you remembered your phone call last night with Jihoon. He told you to drink water and take an ibuprofen.
You got up sluggishly and made your way to the bathroom, grabbing the cup that you left on the counter for when you got thirsty in the middle of the night. You filled it with water from the sink and found the ibuprofen bottle that was kept in the cabinet, spilling two pills into your palm. You popped them in your mouth and knocked them back, taking a drink of the water to swallow them.
As you took a second drink of water for good measure, the rest of your conversation with Jihoon passed through your memories, and you spit water all over the mirror in front of you. You knew that you had been thinking how pretending to date each other would be an option, but you didn’t think you would actually ask him to do it. Apparently, drunken Y/N thought otherwise and had straight up called him and asked him to do it.
You smacked yourself in the forehead, making your head feel worse. “Well, it’s been said. And he didn’t agree to it yet, so let’s see what happens,” you murmured to yourself, resigned to the fact that it had indeed been said and maybe he wouldn’t go for it. No sense in being embarrassed about something you barely remember saying.
Which is why you didn’t expect to have Jihoon standing in front of you in the campus cafe on Monday morning saying, “I’ll do it,” causing you to spit your drink out for the second time in three days.
“You’ll what?” you asked, incredulous, as you wiped the coffee you sprayed all over the table in front of you.
Jihoon sighed, not wanting to repeat himself. “I said, I’ll do it. Let’s fake date,” he repeated anyway, slowly to make his words heard. You blinked and just stared at him, absorbing what he just said. He stared back, his eyes boring into yours, and you saw no sign of his usual pettiness or jokes.
“Okay,” you finally breathed out, “but we should have some rules.”
“Agreed,” he said, sitting down next to you now.
“Okay….” you said, mulling over what those rules would actually be. “Alright, you’ll need a makeover. No one would believe we are together looking like…this,” you continued, gesturing at his overall self.
“Like what, Y/N?” Jihoon asked, even though he knew full well what you meant.
“We need to make it seem like you are someone I’d go for,” you said, trying to make your case.
“Fine, but I will not like it,” he replied with a glare, and you let out a little triumphant smile. “So then the other rule is that we have an easy out clause,” he said, offering a rule of his own.
“An easy out clause?” you questioned.
“Yeah. So we can end the fake relationship at any time for any reason, and there won’t be any hard feelings. Other than the ones we already have for each other, of course,” Jihoon continued.
“Alright, an easy out clause,” you agreed. You let the awkward silence stew between the two of you for a bit before you spoke once more. “We both have classes until 4 pm today and then I have some work for the ball to do…are you free tomorrow night?”
“I think so, but why?” he asked, skeptically.
“So we can take care of the first rule, your makeover,” you replied.
Jihoon grimaced. “Okay, meet me in front of my house at 6 pm tomorrow,” he said, getting up and stuffing his hands in his pockets before leaving for his class. You attempted to finish what was left of your coffee and head off to your next class as well.
The next day at 6 pm, like promised, you were standing in front of a very familiar house from your childhood-Jihoon’s house. While you joined a sorority and lived on campus, Jihoon still lived here with his dad. Not only was it close to the university, but you figured some part of him didn’t want to leave his dad alone.
You took a deep breath and walked up the front steps, ringing the doorbell. The door swung open, revealing Jihoon’s dad. “Well hello, Y/N. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen you,” he said, opening the door further to let you step inside.
“Hi Mr. Lee,” you said, standing in the foyer rather awkwardly. Honestly, the last time you stepped foot in this house was the day of Mrs. Lee’s funeral. It was also the last time you and Jihoon acted like friends.
“Ji should be down in a minute,” Mr Lee said, leaving you and going back into the kitchen. You looked down at your feet, rocking back and forth on your heels until you heard the creaking of the stairs. Jihoon looked like his usual self, wearing jeans and a band tee. You couldn’t help but smile. However, if the two of you dating were to seem real then he needed to fit in with the popular crowd. And that started with a look that aligned with that.
Jihoon cleared his throat, suddenly standing in front of you, and you realized you must have spaced out. “Ready?” he asked.
“Yeah, we should get going,” you said. He grabbed his car keys from the small table near the door before ushering you back through the front door and closing it behind him. He also opened the passenger door of the car for you, making you quirk an eyebrow at his actions. His only response was a shrug of the shoulders.
After you were both settled in the car he asked, “So where to?”
“The mall,” you responded with an excited smile.
Jihoon groaned, “Are you trying to kill my reputation as a geek?” You blinked, surprised at his joking tone before letting out a giggle.
“Precisely,” you answered, laughing once more. Jihoon started the car, driving toward the demise of his geekdom, or at least the image of it.
After about fifteen minutes had passed, he pulled into the parking lot of the city mall, also known as the place where all the popular kids shopped and hung out.
You walked into the large, store-filled building with Jihoon trailing behind you. Pausing at the entrance, you thought about what you needed to do first. “New outfits,” you pondered out loud. You looked over at Jihoon who was mashing his lips together and you grabbed the edge of his shirt, pulling him with you to the first clothing store.
You deposited him in the middle of the store, near the dressing rooms. Jihoon stood there almost in awe as you swirled around the store, picking up different combinations of pants and shirts to create outfits for him to try on. He was already exhausted, and he hadn’t even tried anything on yet.
After what felt like forever, you returned, holding up multiple outfits for him. He sighed, something he was doing a lot when he was with you. “The sooner you try them on, the sooner we can be done,” you said, trying to sound motivating. Lucky for you, he knew you were right and took the hangers of clothes from you. He trudged into the dressing room and shut the door behind him.
You made him come out after every outfit, much to his annoyance. You rather enjoyed it, clapping and smiling for most of the outfits. You were proud of yourself for picking things out that made him look the perfect mix of sophisticated and casual. You gathered all the outfits that worked and brought them up to the checkout counter, once again with Jihoon trailing behind you.
Coming to stand next to you, Jihoon went to take his wallet out of his pocket, but you grabbed his wrist to stop him. “Don’t worry about it. It was my idea for the makeover,” you said, handing money to the cashier as she placed his new clothes in a bag. She handed the bag to you.
“Are you sure?” Jihoon asked.
“I’m sure,” you confirmed, handing the bag of clothes over to him. As you pulled your hand away, your stomach let out a few grumbles.
He let out an amused snort and said, “This place has a food court, right?” You nodded, and your stomach grumbled some more. “Let’s get some food then.”
You led the way toward the center of the mall, where all the food smells were coming from and a few minutes later, the two of you sat across from each other at a table with pieces of pizza in front of you. Another memory with Jihoon crossed your mind as you chewed a piece of the cheesy slice. “You remember the time Seungkwan’s mom specially bought that only cheese pizza for him at your birthday party and when he fell asleep early, we ate it all?” you asked, a smirk gracing your face as you remembered your childhood antics.
“He was so mad. He didn’t talk to us for like a week and then hid his pizza the next time there was a party,” Jihoon laughed. It grew silent again after that, not exactly an awkward silence but not a comfortable one either. You were nearly done with your pizza when Jihoon asked another question. “This makeover doesn’t include other things, like cutting my hair or something?”
You looked up at him. You looked at his slightly shaggy black hair and his bangs that lightly brushed over his forehead. You didn’t know what possessed you, but you reached forward and grazed you fingered through the ends of his hair. Your eyes locked and instead of the growling it had done earlier, your stomach did flip flops. You panicked slightly and abruptly pulled your hand away. “No, I don’t think we need to change anything else..” you said, looking down at the table.
Before things could get weirder, you two finished eating and left the mall with your mission accomplished.
The car was quiet as it sat in the driveway of your sorority and Jihoon wondered why you hadn’t taken your seatbelt off to get out of the car yet. You were struggling, debating whether you wanted to tell him something that you had thought about telling him for ages. What better time than to say it now, a day when you spent the most time with him than you had in years?
“Listen, Jihoon…” you started in a bit of a solemn tone. He turned to look at you. “When your mom got sick, I just didn’t know what to do or how to feel. Then at her funeral, I wasn’t sure how to comfort you or even if I could. And then you started getting in trouble at school and hanging out with other people. I’m just…I’m sorry.”
Jihoon gave a wry smile after listening to your whole blurted speech. “It’s okay, I get it,” he said. “I didn’t know what to do or how to feel either, and then eventually we became…enemies sorta?”
You nodded. “How about we be, uh, frenemies now, I guess?”
He snorted at that. “Frenemies,” he agreed.
Eventually, you took off your seatbelt and opened the car door. Before you fully shut it, you peeked your head in to remind Jihoon of your next plans. “Remember, we should be seen together at the football game tomorrow and then at the diner with my friends after.”
He cringed but said, “Okay, see you tomorrow then,” and you shut the car door before watching him pull out of the driveway.
A few hours before the football game you mentioned to Jihoon that you were in the journalism room with Jennie, Miyeon, and a few other girls who were part of the ball planning committee. You were trying to finalize the theme so that you could get started on getting the decorations. The ball was held at the same place every year, so you didn’t have to worry about that, at least. Everyone was set on their own idea for the theme, and no one could come to a decision, making you massage your temples in frustration.
You were really regretting not grabbing that coffee before this meeting when the very thing you wanted appeared in front of you. A iced coffee was sat in front of you and you looked up to find Jihoon, looking nonchalant with his hands in his pockets like always. “Thanks. How did you know I was here?” you asked, surprised.
He shrugged. “I was here working in the editing room on something with Seungkwan and Wonwoo and saw you were still here. I thought you could probably use the caffeine.” You squinted at him before slowly taking a drink of the coffee, wondering if he had some sort of other motive. Then he leaned forward and whispered in your ear, “I’m just trying to make it look like we didn’t, you know, suddenly go from hating each other to dating. So, just go with it.”
Of course, there it was. He couldn’t have really just thought to bring it to you for no reason at all other than just because. You were supposed to be fake dating starting today, so he needed to make it look true.
Arguing between Jennie and Miyeon brought you back to reality, and you sighed. “Guys!” you snapped, making them both stop midargument. “Look, it’s almost time for the game and we should be there. Let’s try and come to an agreement by next week. If that’s not possible, then I’ll be making the final decision, by myself,” you said. Miyeon looked surprised at your unusual forcefulness while Jennie just looked, well annoyed.
You grabbed what was left of the coffee Jihoon brought you and him by the arm. “We should get over to the stadium,” you said and left the room with the others, wondering what was up with you, or more importantly you and him.
“Okay, chill,” Jihoon said, pulling his arm back from you once you were in the hall.
“Sorry,” you said, letting him pull his arm back. You looked up at him, finally noticing that he was also wearing one of the outfits you had picked out the day before. You smiled at him.
“What?” he asked, wondering why the heck you were smiling at him like a weirdo in the middle of the hallway.
“I didn’t think you would be wearing the clothes yet,” you responded.
“I thought that was the deal? Now come on, let’s watch some stupid game and start this dating thing in front of your friends.” Jihoon grabbed your hand, leading you down the hall and out the door to head to the football stadium. Why was your heart feeling funny?
An hour later, Jihoon was sitting next to you in the bleachers complaining in your ear about how “all a football game is, is an excuse for dudes to touch other dudes' butts.” You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help but laugh.
“Go, Fight, Win!” A chant had started in the stadium and was gaining more people with it. After about the third round of the chant, you joined, smirking at Jihoon. He looked at you chanting with your other friends that sat nearby and shook his head. You nudged him, smiling like a maniac.
Rolling his eyes, he finally joined with a monotone, “Go, Fight, Win!” and a half-hazard fist pump in the air. Then something happened. Watching the game, feeling the excitement of the crowd, and seeing you sitting next to him, enjoying yourself; he thought maybe this wasn’t so bad, fun even. Next thing he knew, as the chant ended he was taking turns shouting insults at the refs with Mark and high-fiving him.
You looked at him. It was peculiar. All that fuss and now he was fitting in like he had been a part of the group from the beginning. You couldn’t help but think that it could have been this way all along, as if you and Jihoon never had been enemies.
After the game, you and Jihoon made an official new couple appearance at the diner your friends often frequented after games. You had barely sat down in the group booth with your food when Jennie pounced. “So after seeing you two together twice today, I need to ask. Are you two like a thing now?” she asked, pointing between the two of you. You nodded. Jennie gave a look of distaste. “How on earth did that happen?”
“So, remember the night at Mingyu’s party when Johnny and I broke up and I got drunk, you called me a designated driver? Well, Jihoon had also called Wonwoo and was in the car too. It just sort of happened?” you explained. None of that was technically wrong at all, that was what happened. You just left out the part about the drunken phone call later and you know, the fact that it was fake.
Jennie looked over at Jihoon, who had his mouth full of fries. “Yeah, pretty much,” Jihoon confirmed with his mouth full and Jennie gave a slightly disgusted look. Seeming satisfied with that answer, Jennie left it alone and conversation flowed around the table. Mark, Mingyu, and Jihoon were debating things about a video game and you found yourself smiling once again at the fact that they seemed to be getting along well.
Yet, your smile fell when you looked at the other side of the table to see Johnny and his new girlfriend making out. You didn’t know why, but tears were gathering at the corners of your eyes. “I’ll be right back, bathroom,” you mumbled. Jihoon heard the tone in your voice and the sheen in your eyes and was pulled from his video game conversation. He immediately saw what likely upset you, and decided he needed to do something about it when you came back.
In the bathroom, you splashed water on your face and hoped that would help regain your composure. You took a few deep breaths and made sure there was no trace of your sudden tear-up before heading back out to the table. As you sat back down next to Jihoon, he asked “Everything okay, babe?” He wrapped an arm over your shoulders pulling you close to him and placed a peck on your forehead.
Babe? Your brain malfunctioned and you were frozen at Jihoon’s side. “Y/N….” he hissed in your ear and you broke from your stupor. “Oh, sorry. Yes, I’m good,” you answered. He must be doing this for show, to make it really look like you were dating and to make Johnny jealous, right? It had to be that, of course.
“So, you’re friends with DD Wonwoo, right?” Mark was asking Jihoon now.
“Yeah, we are friends. And it’s Wonwoo, not DD Wonwoo. Just Wonwoo,” he answered and you could hear irritation starting in his voice.
“Cool, you think he’d be down to be the designated driver for all our parties? We’ll pay.” Jihoon’s body tensed at the question.
“Okayyyyy,” you said the minute Mark finished his sentence, getting up and pulling Jihoon out of the booth with you. “It’s getting late and I’m tired. We’ll see you guys later,” you rushed out before dragging Jihoon out of the diner with you and leaving what was left of your food on the table.
“What the hell was that? Wonwoo has probably saved the lives of half those people in there and what? They just want to continue getting drunk off their rockers and think throwing money at him is compensation for that?” Jihoon was fuming. He was pacing back and forth in the parking lot, tugging his hand through his hair.
“Jihoon…” you started.
“Who do they think they are? Do they have no integrity? Did they trade their brains for being popular?” He continued to rant.
“Jihoon!” you said again, sharper this time.
“What?!” he shouted and you flinched slightly.
You didn’t know why, but you felt the urge to comfort him and calm him down. And to apologize even. You came up next to him, brushing his hand with yours, and said, “I’m sorry.” Jihoon’s breathing calmed down and his eyes met yours. “Endure it for me, please? I promise you and Wonwoo can do something mean to him the next time he’s drunk, okay?” you said.
Jihoon cracked a smile at that. “Fine…” he responded and stalked over to the car so he could get the two of you back home.
You and Jihoon had made appearances at a few other things during the week, but as Friday approached there was actually one you were looking forward to the most. It was starting to get warmer, which meant some days were spent soaking up the sun at the river.
The ball’s committee had also taken your previous threat about choosing the theme on your own seriously and had finally come to a consensus. The theme was Moments in Time and you were looking forward to downtime with your friends before having to plan more for the ball. Maybe you were looking forward to downtime with Jihoon too.
This time you were all riding with Mingyu in his jeep, floats and picnic supplies strapped to the utility bar on top of the vehicle. He had come to pick you up with everyone else in the car but Jihoon and he would be picked up last. Which meant that when Mingyu honked at Jihoon’s house, the only seat left in the car was in the backseat, squished in the middle next to you.
Squeezing in next to you, you became immediately aware of his bare legs pressing against your own. He was in the swim trunks you had picked out for him and a t-shirt, already prepared for the day's activities. “Ouch,” you said as he accidentally pinched your arm between him and the seat.
“I’m sorry, is this better?” Jihoon asked, moving his arm over your shoulders so that you could settle next to him.
You swallowed down the butterflies that were now becoming a common occurrence when you were with him. You were still doing everything you could to ignore them. It was just the proximity and situation making you feel that way. You didn’t actually like him. At least, that’s what you kept telling yourself.
You didn’t dare speak words out loud, afraid it would come out garbled or as a squeak. You just nodded in response, the warming of your cheeks still threatening to give you away. Throughout the entire drive to the river, you were painfully aware of how much his body was touching yours.
When Mingyu pulled into the parking lot of the River Park, you nearly flung yourself out of the car causing both Jihoon and Jennie to look at you like you were insane. As the others got out of the car, you moved your attention to retrieving your things from the back. You grabbed your bag, which held a swim towel, sunscreen, and a few snacks.
More bags were grabbed, leaving the trunk area empty while Mark and Mingyu worked on getting the other things down from the rack on the roof. You waited until everything had been taken before walking down the path that led to the larger bank of the river. The area was a little rocky but many of the rocks were big enough to lay blankets and towels on.
You spotted one big enough for multiple people to spread out on and it was also close enough to the river itself, which would make it easy to get in and out of the water. It was decided the girls would take the spot you found and the boys would hang out on the next one over. You spread your towel out, setting your bag near the front and slipping your sandals off on the other end to weigh it down before settling down on it in a cross-legged position.
Jennie and Miyeon put their things out next to you, while Jihoon was helping Mark and Mingyu set their chairs out on the other rock. You leaned backward on your hands, enjoying the sun on your face while chatting about things every once in a while with Jennie and Miyeon. You had tuned them out a little when Miyeon started talking about Mark’s sexual habits, comparing them with things Jennie’s many partners had done. Not only did you not want to know those things about Mark, but you didn’t really have anything to contribute since you and Jihoon obviously weren't on that level.
“Y/N? What about you and Jihoon?” Miyeon asked, bringing your attention back to the conversation.
“Well….it’s a secret,” you answered, trying to be as elusive as possible so you didn’t have to try and come up with more lies than needed.
“Oh, come on, Y/N,” Jennie goaded. “You cleaned Jihoon up so nicely, I'm sure you’ve had a piece of that.”
You looked at your best friend in annoyance. “Jihoon is a private person, I’d rather not discuss our sex life,” you responded. Miyeon seemed to understand but the look on Jennie’s face was like she took your response as a challenge.
The boys were having a similar conversation over at their rock, with Mingyu bragging about his latest endeavors. Jihoon didn’t really understand the need to boast about the subject as if it were a competition. “But what about Y/N, though?” Mingyu asked, looking over at Jihoon.
“What about her?” Jihoon questioned.
“She’s hot. You’d be stupid not to get a little ‘something, something’ while dating her,” Mingyu continued.
Jihoon narrowed his eyes, “Even if I have, Y/N has feelings too and I’m not going to divulge her sex life without her permission.”
“Okay, dude. I was just trying to make conversation,” Mingyu surrendered, putting his hands up as a white flag.
Mark took that as a sign for him and Mingyu to grab some floaties and go hang out in the river. Jihoon had brought his walkman and slipped on the headphones, going into his own little music world. Miyeon and Jennie had grown quiet now and were tanning behind you.
After scooting forward on your towel, you stuck your feet in the cool river water and let yourself relax a bit. You looked over to find Mark and Mingyu having a war on the floaties, both trying to push the other off and into the water. You shook your head at their antics and moved your feet back and forth in the water, creating a calming effect for yourself.
You weren’t sure how long you were all hanging out there but eventually Mingyu mentioned that you should all get home and you started packing things up. You looked over to find Jihoon gone from his previous spot.
Your eyes wandered around the river bank area and you finally spotted him, playing with two younger kids. “Oh noooo, you got me,” you heard him exclaim in mock upset. The two kids were squirting him with water from the super soakers they each had, both giggling the more exaggerated Jihoon sounded.
He moved, chasing them around and getting revenge with his own super soaker. You couldn’t help but smile at the pure joy you saw on his face as he played with them. He looked so at ease with them. You thought that maybe you really were starting to fall for him, but if you were then you couldn’t keep up this fake dating ruse. You promptly shook the thoughts from your head.
“Come on Captain Kangaroo, our ride is leaving,” you shouted across the bank. He looked up at your voice and shot you a devastatingly adorable smile that showed off his dimples. He gave the water gun back to the kids and he ruffled their hair, telling them he had fun.
He jogged to where you were, saying “Okay, let’s get going.” He picked up his things from the rock he and the boys were on earlier and the two of you headed back up the path to Mingyu’s jeep. All the items you had brought had been put back in the trunk and everyone was just waiting for you and Jihoon so you could head back home. You two were squished against each other again, in a similar position as on the way there. However, you weren’t paying attention to that part as much now that the scene of him playing with the kids earlier kept replaying in your head. Before you knew it, you all had been dropped off at your respective residences and it was time to settle down for the evening.
Jihoon had just walked in the door when his dad appeared holding the house phone. “Ah, good timing. Jihoon just came in, Seungkwan. Here,” he said, holding the phone out for Jihoon to take.
“Hey, Kwan. What’s up?” Jihoon said into the phone, bringing it up the stairs to his room with him.
“The Pixies are playing at the bar tomorrow night. Come with Seokmin, Wonwoo, and I,” Seungkwan said.
“I don’t know. I think one of Y/N’s friends is having a party that we are supposed to go to.”
Seungkwan sighed heavily. “I wasn’t going to bring this up, but you’ve changed. You used to hang out with us, you know, your best friends, all the time and now you're always with Y/N and her group of populars. Are we not good enough for you anymore, Jihoon?”
“Jesus, Seungkwan. No, I haven’t changed. I don’t like hanging out with them, I’m just there to make Y/N happy and somewhat get along with them.” Jihoon explained, annoyance tingeing his voice.
“Whatever you say,” Seungkwan gave a flippant response.
“Tell you what, I’ll talk to Y/N and see if we can come with you guys to the concert instead. Okay?” Jihoon compromised.
“Fine, let me know later,” Seungkwan conceded.
“Okay, bye.” Jihoon hung up the phone and rubbed his hands over his face. He didn’t think he was changing at all. He wasn’t fitting in with that crowd, was he? He was only pretending so that you two could fake date, right?
Jihoon picked the cordless phone back up from the bed where he flung it after saying goodbye to Seungwan and dialed your number.
“Hello?” your voice sounded from the other end.
“Hey,” Jihoon said.
“Jihoon? You usually don’t call me first,” you mentioned.
“I know, but I wanted to ask you something.”
“Okay…” you responded, a little confused.
“I know we are supposed to go to another party tomorrow but do you think we could do something with my friends instead? I feel like we only do things with your friends,” he complained.
You let out a rush of air. “Okay,” you agreed.
“Okay?” Jihoon asked, surprised you agreed that easily.
“Yeah, you’re right. And it seems weird for a couple to hang out with only one group of friends. Plus, they used to be my friends too…” you trailed off.
“Alright, then there’s a band we follow playing at a bar we go to. Seungkwan invited us and both Wonwoo and Seokmin will be there too. I can come get you at 5 pm tomorrow,” he told you.
“Sounds good. Hey, today was kind of nice wasn’t it?” you asked, a smile on your face as you remembered.
“Yeah, it was kind of nice,” Jihoon admitted and you both hung up the phone.
Even though it was a Saturday afternoon, Jihoon found himself on campus in the broadcasting room. Seungkwan and Wonwoo were there earlier too but Jihoon wanted to finish editing the music video they had been working on. They had gone to get lunch and would be back later.
It wasn’t that he was in a real hurry to finish it exactly, but he tended to immerse himself in his projects when he felt unsettled about something. He wasn’t even sure what he was specifically feeling weird about. Was it the fact that he really seemed to be getting along with your friends? Or was it that his heart seemed to speed up every time he caught your eyes yesterday?
All that could be heard in the room was the clicking of the mouse as he edited, thoughts swirling in his head. He was so distracted that he didn’t even realize that Wonwoo and Seungkwan had come back and that it was three hours later. He was brought back to reality as Seungkwan snapped his fingers in front of his face, literally snapping him out of whatever trance he was in. “Hellooooo, Jihoon,” Seungwan said, trying to get his attention.
“Oh, sorry, Kwan,” Jihoon responded and turned around in the computer chair he was sitting in.
“We should probably leave so we can all get ready for the concert tonight with Seok,” Wonwoo mentioned.
“Did you ask your girlfriend? Are you coming?” Seungkwan asked with a hint of bitterness.
“Actually, yeah. Y/N was kind of excited about it, so we’ll be there,” Jihoon said, ignoring Seungkwan’s tone.
Rather than getting into another heated discussion about whether Jihoon was acting like himself or not, Seungkwan and Wonwoo left and so did Jihoon after finishing the last bit of video editing. He went back home to get ready in another outfit you had chosen that day at the mall before going to pick you up. A few hours later, he was waiting in the car outside your dorm like he had multiple times before.
Jihoon drummed his fingers on the steering wheel along with the beat of the song that was on the radio as he waited for you. He was pretty into it and didn’t see when you had come out of the house. You grinned as you slowly approached the car. Jihoon had been into music when you were younger and it was nice to know he truly hadn’t changed much despite everything that happened. “Okay drummer boy, I’m here. We should leave,” you said, making him jump slightly at your voice before he unlocked the passenger side for you to get in.
“So what band are we going to see?” you asked when Jihoon had pulled out onto the road that would take you to the bar.
“The Pixies. Wonwoo found them one time when he was DD’ing and went to pick Seokmin up at the bar one time. They showed Seungkwan and me the next time they played and we liked them too, so we try to catch them every time they play there.” Jihoon explained and you could tell how much he liked the band.
“Hmm, okay. Well I’m excited to hang out with you guys, to see Seungkwan, and to get to know Wonwoo and Seokmin even more,” you said and you really were. You wanted to catch a glimpse of what Jihoon had been like for the period of time you didn’t know him. He hummed in acknowledgment. It was quiet for a few minutes before you spoke again. “Hey, do I..look okay? I’ve actually never been to this kind of thing before..” you asked, feeling a little nervous.
Jihoon looked a little surprised, but then again seeing a girl punk rock band at a hole-in-the-wall bar was not exactly your scene. Eventually, he scanned your outfit, taking in the dark jeans and nice shirt you were wearing. “Yeah, you look nice,” he responded. He was probably just being polite but you noticed he was also wearing something similar, making you wonder why you spent so much time trying to find the right outfit in the first place.
He pulled into the parking lot of the bar and parked next to a car that was familiar to you at this point, Wonwoo’s. You followed behind him as he walked into the bar and scanned the area for his friends. “Jihoon! Y/N!” you heard someone shout over the band that was already playing. You walked with Jihoon to where Seungkwan had shouted from, in the middle of a crowd standing somewhat near the stage. It got louder the closer you got to where Seungkwan, Seokmin, and Wonwoo were.
“Hey, boys!” you greeted them over the music.
“Hey, Y/N,” Seungkwan said when you got closer. Wonwoo gave a small wave and Seokmin flashed a smile.
“I’m going to grab some drinks from the bar. Want anything?” Jihoon asked you all.
“Martini for me, please,” Seungkwan said.
“Suprise me,” came Seokmin’s response.
“I’m driving, of course, so just club soda?” Wonwoo asked.
Jihoon looked over at you, waiting for your order. “Rum and coke?” you asked. Jihoon did not expect that from you. He figured you’d want something more fancy like Seungkwan wanted.
“Okay, be back soon then,” Jihoon said and he disappeared into the crowd.
You turned your attention to the stage in front of you that had since grown quiet, guessing that the band that was playing when you walked in was the opener for who you were really here to see. You were making small talk with the three boys while waiting for the main event and for Jihoon to come back. As you had noticed before, Wonwoo was quiet but funny and had quite a knack for video editing. Seokmin was bright, adding a lightness to their group. You talked with Seungkwan about your junior high days when you, Jihoon, and he made up a trio. You remembered those days fondly and definitely noticed how wary Seungkwan was when talking about that part of your shared past.
Before you could address that, the crowd started cheering and colored lights were starting to shine on the stage as a group of girls came on stage with their instruments. They looked amazing. The girl in front had her hair teased in a high pony and wore silver pants that matched the glittering tank top of the girl drummer behind her. She picked up a guitar and started playing a riff that must have been from one of their well-known songs, judging by the howling in the crowd. As the song continued to play, you realized you liked it. The punk aspect was not something you would not have normally picked, but it made you feel something.
Jihoon was still waiting for your drinks over at the bar and was turned around to watch the stage. His eyes were automatically drawn to where you were, finding you with your eyes glued to the stage and complete joy written on your face. He watched as you got closer to the stage, starting to jump up and down with the music. He honestly couldn’t take his eyes off of you. “Here you go,” the bartender said from behind him, setting the drinks on the bar top. Jihoon grabbed them all, balancing them in his hands and set off back into the crowd with an amused smile on his lips.
He wove back through all the people, stopping to give his friends their drinks before moving forward in the crowd to where you were standing. The song was finishing as he reached you and you screamed and clapped for the band, making Jihoon laugh at how much you were actually enjoying this. He tapped you on the shoulder and you turned, the look on your face probably the happiest he had seen recently.
“Your drink,” Jihoon said, passing the glass to you.
“Thank you,” you said, taking it from him and giving it a light sip before turning your attention to the next song. You began bouncing up and down to the beat of the new song, as much as you could without spilling your drink. Jihoon thought you were cute like this.
He stood there enjoying the music with you, his own drink in hand until you heard Wonwoo let out an “Ah, shit,” somewhere behind you.
“What’s wrong?” Jihoon questioned.
“She’s here,” Wonwoo responded.
“Who?” you asked, confused.
You followed Jihoon’s line of sight before you spotted who and he spoke her name. “Shayla.” She had a guy hanging off her, which you could only assume was the one she cheated on Jihoon with. You watched as they acted all lovey-dovey, making Jihoon look positively miserable. Her eyes crossed paths with Jihoon and you could only think of one thing to do, you kissed him.
You made out with him to be exact, tongue and all. You couldn’t bear how hurt he looked, couldn’t stand the fact that Shayla was looking at him like she still cared. Jihoon didn’t know how he should respond other than to let you continue kissing him. You kept sneaking peeks at Shayla out of the corner of your eye as you kept making out with him. Eventually, Shayla looked away with a bit of a sneer and pulled her boy toy to another area of the bar.
You pulled away from Jihoon and said, “Sorry, I was just returning the favor.” He had rescued you in a similar way, albeit a tamer way, that night at the dinner when your ex was there. You took it a little further than intended but you were just making it even, weren’t you?
“Uh, thanks?” Jihoon responded, a light blush warming his cheeks and he rubbed the back of his neck with his hand. This was not a reaction you expected from him or even one you thought he could have. It was actually pretty adorable. You tried not to think about it. You didn’t see it because you were too focused on the boy you weren’t supposed to like, but Wonwoo and Seungwan shared a look.
“They are about to play the next song,” you said, trying to redirect attention back to the band and the stage. Jihoon only nodded, not knowing what else to say after that. You let the music take away thoughts of whatever feelings you might be starting to have for your fake boyfriend and by the time the concert was over, you had buried them deep in your mind once again.
In the parking lot of the bar, you said goodbye to Seungkwan, Wonwoo, and Seokmin before you got in the car with Jihoon to go home. It was a little awkward again before Jihoon turned the radio on. (You Drive Me) Crazy by Britney Spears came on and he groaned before he reached over to change the station. “Aw come on, Ji. Leave it there,” you whined before starting to sing along to the song. He grimaced at you but pulled his hand away from the dash, leaving the song on. “You drive me craaaazzzyyy, I just can’t sleep!” you sang loudly and badly on purpose. You poked your elbow into Jihoon’s side, trying to get him to sing with you as you continued with the lyrics.
After a few harder nudges Jihoon belted out, “Baby, thinking of you keeps me up all night”. You gasped, putting your hand over your mouth. You didn’t think you’d actually get him to sing it with you. He continued driving with the two of you singing the rest of the song and giggling like maniacs, Jihoon showing a smile genuine enough that the dimples you only saw one other time appeared. You found yourself having fun more often with Jihoon and spending time with him was beginning to feel more and more natural, like you never parted ways to begin with.
Once again, you found yourself in the journalism room working on things for the ball. More specifically, the decorations. This time you were by yourself, there was yet another party happening tonight and the others left you so they could get Jennie’s house ready since she was hosting this time. Honestly, you didn’t mind and felt like you could get more things done without Jennie’s constant nitpicking.
You were looking at a few different options for string lights when someone you didn’t expect to see walked in. Shayla. “Um, Mrs. Rathburn asked me to bring you the posters you had printed from the big office printer,” she said, showing the large posters she held in her arms.
“Oh, thanks for bringing them. You can set them over there,” you responded, gesturing toward the bigger table next to you. Shayla set them where you indicated and started toward the door but hesitated, turning back around. She looked like she wanted to say something to you. “Was there anything else?” you prompted.
She pondered for a moment before saying,” He seems happier with you.” You were sure what to say when she continued. “He never wanted to go places with me, never wanted to stop by the lab to see me, not the way he does with you.”
The way she said it struck a chord with you. You knew she was a medical science major and worked in the chem lab a lot but it didn’t occur to you before and obviously, she didn’t know either. “He didn’t tell you about his mother, did he?” you asked. The confused look on Shayla’s face confirmed your suspicions. “His mother died when we were younger…of cancer. So you can imagine why he wouldn’t want to be around medicine and labs.”
Now she had a shocked look on her face, mixed with something like pity. “I didn’t know. Well, I hope he continues to be happy with you,” she said as she turned back around and walked out of the room. For once, you felt a little sorry for Shayla but fake or not, Jihoon was with you now. You sighed and got up from the chair you were sitting in, pulling the posters closer to you so you could examine them to make sure they had been printed properly. They looked good and you were glad that nothing was wrong with them.
A few minutes later, Jihoon walked through the same classroom door that Shayla walked out of. “Hey, how's it going in here?” he asked casually.
You shrugged, “It’s going. But, what are you doing here? You didn’t bring me coffee this time.” You grinned, enjoying being able to give him a hard time now without it turning into a big deal.
“Wow, see if I ever bring you coffee again..” he teased back. “Anyway, I was working with Seungkwan on some AV stuff for the school news show and thought I’d stop by. It was strange though, I passed by Shayla in the hall and she was acting oddly nice to me.”
“Huh, weird,” you said. There was no way you were going to tell him that you told her about his mother. He must have had a reason for not telling her, although some part of you was relieved he hadn’t.
“So, how do you feel about having dinner at my house before we go to Jennie’s party? My dad invited you. I think he’s noticed how close we’ve gotten again,” he asked, looking a little sheepish.
“I’d like that,” you responded, the corners of your lips turning up at the thought of Mr. Lee making Jihoon ask you over. You gathered all the things you were working on, organizing them so they made sense when you went to work on them again and left the room to go home with Jihoon.
You had really only been just inside of the door of Jihoon’s house since you reconnected. It felt weird going past the dining room threshold as you followed him into the kitchen, even though as a child you had been in every room in the house. It was a reminder of how things truly had changed after his mom died.
Yet, the sight of Mr. Lee in the kitchen and the familiar smell of his famous Yangnyeom chicken transported you right back to those times when you and Jihoon would get called in for dinner when you had been playing outside or doing homework together. Mr. Lee turned around after plating the chicken. “Glad you could join us, Y/N! I had to practically beg Jihoon to ask you,” he beamed, walking into the dining room to set the large plate on the table.
“Thank you for inviting me Mr. Lee,” you said, politely as you took a seat in one of the chairs at the dining table.
“At least I didn’t have to drag you two inside from the treehouse,” he said with a laugh and you found it ironic that he remembered that as well.
Your eyes shifted to sliding doors on the other side of the dining room, looking out into the backyard to see if the treehouse still existed. “It’s still there..” you murmured as you made out the familiar wood walls poking out the only large tree still in the yard.
“Of course it is! Jihoon kept it up all these years and made sure no nail or board came out of place,” Mr. Lee exclaimed rather proudly. You looked over at Jihoon who was doing his best not to look at you. You thought it would have been destroyed by now. Jihoon’s actions lately were already confusing, but the fact that he had preserved the treehouse all this time confused you even more.
The rest of dinner went well, it was comforting that it felt almost the same as it did when you were young. Well, minus a major person, but you tried your best not to think about that. You and Jihoon were helping Mr. Lee clean up when he glanced at the clock on the wall. “We should think about heading to the party now,” he said.
“I got the rest of this. You crazy kids go have fun at the party,” Mr. Lee said, basically telling the two of you to skedaddle already.
“Don’t wait up,” Jihoon joked, following you out of the kitchen and back into the front room.
Since you were busy enough today, you chose an outfit when you got ready this morning that would translate well from everyday to party. It’s not like you were the host or like it was that special of an event, plus you were willing to bet something would be spilled on it by the end of the night anyway.
“Let me change into something more suitable and I’ll be right back,” Jihoon said to you. You nodded and sat on the bottom of the stairs to wait for him. Five minutes later, he came down the stairs looking effortless and amazing at the same time. Once again, making it hard for you to ignore the ever-annoying butterflies that filled your stomach.
“Let’s get going, we don’t want to be late,” you mumbled, turning your attention back to the front door.
The party was already in full swing when you arrived and you narrowly avoided being mowed over by Mingyu and Mark playing some sort of drunk game involving a soccer ball the minute you and Jihoon walked into Jennie’s house. You took Jihoon’s hand in yours as you wove through people, telling yourself it was so that you didn’t lose him in the crowd but you couldn’t help but feel like they fit together.
You made your way into the center of the house where more things seemed to be going on when you caught the sound of the familiar voices of your friends in the backyard. Jennie was already drunk, laughing loudly as she swayed her hips to the music blasting from speakers on either side of the yard. “There you guys areeeeeeee,” Jennie exclaimed, her words sounding slightly slurred which gave a bit of an indication of how much alcohol she’d had so far.
You stifled a laugh as Miyeon gave you a look that essentially said “help me” as she lightly sipped on the drink she had while keeping an eye on Jennie. Mark suddenly appeared, without Mingyu this time. “Yoooo, Jihoon. Come be my partner, Mingyu got too drunk and I need someone who actually has hand-eye coordination,” he said, trying to rope Jihoon into whatever hair-brained game they had been playing.
Mark dragged him off before he could protest, leaving you with just the girls. “You know, I wasn’t sure about Jihoon in the beginning, but the makeover he had really suits him well. If you weren’t dating him, I would be all over that,” Jennie babbled, the multiple drinks in her system acting like an unwanted truth serum. You felt a hint of animosity toward her, and you had to keep telling yourself that you shouldn’t be. You weren’t dating for real, but in principle, it was since nobody else knew that.
To make it easier to resist the urge to strangle Jennie, you excused yourself and went to get a drink from the bar on the other side of the patio that you assumed Jennie paid to be there. Walking up to the bartender, you ordered something that tasted good but wouldn’t get you blasted immediately. A few seconds wait and you thanked the bartender, taking your drink from him. You turned around, maybe to go find where Mark dragged Jihoon off to when you found yourself face to face with your ex.
“Oh, Y/N. I was actually looking for you,” Johnny said. He was just passing by but he was clearly looking for someone. You, apparently.
“Um, okay…didn’t you come with your new girlfriend?” you asked, confused as to why he was looking for you when he seemed so infatuated with the girl the last time you had seen him.
“Well, that’s kind of why I was looking for you. Let’s find a quieter place to talk,” he motioned to some chairs that sat out off the side of the patio where fewer people were milling around. You sat down in one and he sat in the one across from you.
“So, what did you want to talk about?” you questioned, not exactly interested but he did specifically seek you out.
“I know you are with Jihoon now, but I was wondering if I could take you to the dance?” Johnny asked, with what he thought might be a convincing smile on his face. You choked on your drink. He couldn’t be serious. The very thing you had wanted before everything got messy and he was asking you now?
“But what about your girlfriend?” you inquired.
“She broke up with me, said she found someone new,” he shrugged. You snorted. Ironic wasn’t it? She broke up with him for nearly the same reason he broke up with you.
“Once upon a time, all I ever wanted was for you to take me to the ball I planned. But you know what? I’m not the same person as I was all those months ago and I’m with Jihoon now. Go find some other poor sucker to go with you because I won’t,” you responded and you knew it was true. You weren’t the same person anymore. You could care less about being popular. All you cared about was being yourself. And being with Jihoon.
Johnny looked stunned, “Damn, Jihoon is a lucky guy.” You felt that was your cue to leave and you had to go to the bathroom anyway. So you left Johnny there and went inside to search for the restroom. You walked back into the house through the sliding door and were headed down the hall when you saw it, saw them.
Jennie was talking with Jihoon when suddenly you saw her lips meet his. You didn’t know what was happening and your face crumpled. Immediately, you knew that the feelings you were trying to suppress for Jihoon couldn’t be covered up anymore. Jennie broke free of the kiss with a smirk, turning Jihoon around by his shoulders so that his eyes would meet yours. “Bitch,” you murmured, a sob trying to break free from your chest.
Jihoon’s eyes widened as they met yours. “Y/N, wait!” he shouted, a pleading tone bleeding into it. You didn’t want to hear it. This whole thing was fake anyway. You ignored him and stormed out the front door, not caring where you were going. You just needed out of there. Jennie’s house wasn’t that close to the dorm, but it didn’t matter. You wanted to walk anyway.
You did eventually make it back to the dorm, you didn’t know how long it took you and you didn’t care. Everything was ruined and you felt the most pathetic that you had ever been. You retreated to your room and the warmth of your bed, wanting to never leave it. You should have never come up with this idea if you knew it would turn out this way. You weren’t supposed to fall for your ex-best friend, your enemy.
Jihoon was also miserable, perhaps on a different and newfound level. He thought he was in a bad way when he broke up with Shayla, but it was nothing like the way he felt after Jennie tricked him. Nothing like the way his heart cracked when he saw your face and the way your chin trembled when you saw the kiss and nothing like when he called out to you, only for you to ignore him and walk out the door.
He thought he might have loved Shayla when they were together, but he was so wrong. He loved you and it took losing you to finally realize it, to admit it to himself. He didn’t know what he was supposed to do now, but the most immediate solution was to numb the pain. He knew Wonwoo would come get him anyway, and so he drank. He drank a lot. Likely more than he ever had.
He drank so much that he didn’t even know how time moved forward and transported him to where he was now, outside, throwing his guts up in Jennie’s front garden. He must have called Wonwoo at some point, he most certainly didn’t remember doing it but Wonwoo was suddenly standing there in the yard, waiting to see if Jihoon’s stomach was done forcing out whatever contents were left.
Wonwoo didn’t have much sympathy for his friend at this point. “How does it feel Jihoon? Being part of the popular crowd?” he mocked.
“Shut up, Wonwoo,” Jihoon croaked, slowly getting up from his kneeling position in the grass to slowly tread toward Wonwoo’s car. Jihoon all but melted into the backseat once the two of them were both in the car, his head already starting to pound.
“You really screwed up, you know,” Wonwoo said, once the car was on the way to Jihoon’s house.
“How do you know what happened?” Jihoon mumbled the question
“You know how fast news travels around here,” he responded.
“Considering everyone was at the party, I’m not surprised.” Wonwoo slammed on the brakes, making Jihoon fall forward and smack his nose on the seat in front of him. “Ow, what the hell Wonwoo?!” he yelped, hands moving to his face to touch his now tender nose.
“Everybody was NOT there, Jihoon! Seungkwan and I weren’t there, Seokmin wasn’t there, so no, everybody was not at the party,” Wonwoo nearly growled.
“Okay, sheesh. Everybody was not there,” Jihoon conceded, given his growing headache and the fact that Wonwoo so rarely yelled.
“Get out,” Wonwoo said and Jihoon was about to protest when he looked out of the window to see that they had actually stopped outside his house. “Call me when you’ve decided to return back to being the friend I know.”
Jihoon couldn’t respond, he didn’t have a decent answer for that. He just got out of the car, went into the house, and flopped face-first onto his bed. He did know that Wonwoo was right though, he royally fucked up. The only thing he could think about was talking to you, to see if there was a way to convince you of what truly happened with Jennie.
He rolled back to his side, reaching his arm out to grab the phone from the nightstand. He didn’t know how late it was but prayed you’d still answer the phone. He punched in your number and waited as it rang and rang. He was just about to give up when a tired “hello?” answered.
“Please let me explain,” Jihoon said, immediately.
You sighed. “It doesn’t matter. It was crazy to think we could fake it this long, this is our easy out,” you responded, trying to keep your voice from breaking and giving you away.
“What about the dance? That was the main goal of this whole thing,” he said. Jihoon knew that wasn’t why he wanted to keep this ruse going but it was all he could think to try.
“I’ll figure something out. Or maybe I won’t go at all. Let’s just go back to how things were before.” Tears were starting to slip down your cheeks now and you hung up the phone before Jihoon could hear the sob that left your chest.
After the party, days and weeks continued on but you and Jihoon were not the same. Jihoon spaced out often, going about his days in a trance. He even ignored Shaya’s renewed and constant advances on him. He didn’t want anyone else but you. Wonwoo had seen how depressed Jihoon was and took pity on him, letting everything that happened between the two of them that night go. You threw yourself into ball planning which was ironic considering you likely wouldn’t even be attending anymore and Jihoon spent more time editing in the broadcasting room, only being pulled out by his friends.
You had all but stopped hanging out with all your “friends”, only working with them for the ball because you had to. Everything felt like a blur. You had confronted Jennie shortly after the night of the party, her only excuse being “I was doing you a favor.” Maybe in some way she really was, just not in the way she intended. Your relationship with Jihoon may have started out as a fake one but now your feelings were real and you needed to stop before they destroyed you both.
When the night of the ball came around, you found yourself in your dorm room with no date and crying once again. The dress you had picked out long ago to match the tux you had helped Jihoon pick out was hung on the back of your door, mocking you. Maybe you should go by yourself, it would be weird if the planner herself didn’t attend. You brushed the tears from your cheeks and shook your head. That was enough of that, crying and feeling sorry for yourself wouldn’t change anything.
Then your phone rang. “Hello?” you answered.
“Y/N? Hi,” spoke a voice that was vaguely familiar but not one you’d heard over the phone.
“Seungkwan?” you questioned.
“Yeah, it’s Seungkwan. Listen, I know you probably don’t have a date to the ball anymore and I think it would be a shame if you couldn’t go. You deserve to see your event finished so, how about I take you?” Seungkwan said.
For the first time since the night of the party, a genuine smile crossed your face. Seungkwan had always been the sweetest person you’d known, even after you all had parted ways as kids. “I’d like that,” you responded.
“Okay, cool. I can come pick you up in an hour. Will that be enough time to get ready?” he asked
“Sure, see you soon,” you said, hanging up the phone and scrambling to start getting ready. That gave you an answer to your earlier thoughts of just going to the ball by yourself. You were much happier going with Seungkwan, someone you knew you’d have some fun with. You pulled your dress from where you had been glaring at it earlier, glad that it was no longer going to waste. You grabbed shoes that went with it from your closet and got ready as efficiently as you could.
You were smoothing out the bottom of your dress and making sure the last strands of your hair were in place when one of your dorm mates called up the stairs to let you know Seungkwan was there. You picked up the light sweater and small purse you had set out on a chair and walked down the stairs to meet Seungkwan.
He smiled as he spotted you and said, “You look great.”
“Thanks. You don’t look so bad yourself,” you said back. His simple black tuxedo made him look handsome. You reached the bottom of the stairs and he pulled something out from behind his back, showing it to you.
“It was short notice, but this is for you,” Seungkwan said, holding out a pretty wrist corsage.
You let out a pleased laugh and held out your wrist so that he could slip it on, the white rose simple but pretty. “Thank you, that was sweet of you.”
“Of course, I can't let my best girl feel left out,” he said with a chuckle.
Immediately you were thankful for at least one good thing that came out of all of this. You had a good friend in Seungkwan once again. “Let’s go,” you said and you headed to the dance.
Walking in the doors of the venue you rented, you took in everything. Seungkwan was right, you shouldn’t miss how everything you planned had come together. From the centerpieces on the tables to the twinkle lights winding around the beams in the ceiling, everything you had imagined and planned out. It looked perfect. There was only one thing missing, but there was nothing you could do about that anymore.
You and Seungkwan sat down for a little while at one of the tables, talking about different things and people watching before he asked you to dance. He got up from his seat, holding out his hand for you to take. You took it and he led you to the dance floor. Stopping at an empty spot toward the edge, he placed his hands on your back and you wrapped your arms around his neck. You began swaying to the music the DJ was playing. It was nice and comfortable but of course, it was only platonic with Seungkwan.
“Jihoon really likes you, you know,” he said eventually. You sighed, knowing this topic would come up eventually. Seungkwan cared about both of you. “And I know you like him too.” He continued, recounting how bleak the two of you had been in the past weeks.
“I know Seungkwan, but everything is all messed up now,” you said.
“Well, now is your chance to fix it,” he suddenly said, looking up at something or rather someone.
“What?” you asked, confused.
“May I cut in?” A voice asked from behind you. You let out a small gasp. Jihoon?
Seungkwan’s hands left your back and he pressed a light kiss to your cheek, leaving you and Jihoon on the dance floor. You looked at Jihoon. He was wearing the tuxedo you picked out to match your dress and looked as handsome as ever. He approached you, gently placing his hands around your waist and you let your hands rest at the nape of his neck. Your fingers lightly brushed at the ends of his shaggy hair that you liked so much.
You danced a bit to the slow song that was on before you broke the tension between the two of you. “Why are you here, Jihoon?” you asked.
“Because I missed you. God, I missed you so much,” he blurted, pulling you closer to him. Your heart panged at his words. You missed him too and you knew that you didn’t want to pretend your feelings for him didn’t exist.
“I missed you too,” you murmured.
“I’m so sorry about what happened with Jennie. I swear she tricked me but that’s not what matters. I like you, Y/N. I think I’ve always liked you, before everything got so messed up.” He was on a roll now, telling you all that was on his mind and everything he should have told you from the beginning when you both agreed to that stupid fake dating plan.
Your face broke out into a grin. “I like you, too.” Jihoon must have been holding his breath, because he let out a rush of air in relief at your response. “I asked Jennie why she did what she did and she told me she was doing us a favor. I guess in some way, she really did.”
Then Jihoon reached out a hand to cup your cheek, his eyes looking into yours before he leaned forward to press his lips against yours. There were no fireworks, but something much better as you kissed him back. Warmth. A warmth that radiated through your entire body and you couldn’t have imagined anything better.
You broke away after a few minutes, becoming aware that several eyes were on the two of you. Specifically the eyes of Jennie, Johnny, Mark, Miyeon, and a few of the others. “Who are we making jealous now, Jihoon?” you laughed.
“Everyone,” was his response and he kissed you again, making everything around you disappear.
“Wanna get out of here?” you asked.
“I have just the place in mind,” he answered, cheekily and the two of you left hand in hand.
After the dance, you came bursting through the gate to Jihoon’s backyard, giggling like you were little kids again. The only difference was now Jihoon kept pausing to kiss you every few minutes as he led you to the treehouse. He pulled you with him up the ladder and into the familiar house. Except that instead of just the pillows and the small table that you remember being there before, there were blankets and lit candles set out in the corners.
“Did you plan this?” you asked, suspicious.
“I had hoped?” he responded, innocently.
You shook your head, “You’re lucky I like you.”
“I am very lucky.”
“If I knew you were going to be this cheesy-” He cut you off with another kiss and led you over to the blankets that were laid out in the middle of the wooden floor. He sat down, pulling you to sit with him. He initiated a make-out session that began innocently but was now starting to get heated. He leaned backward, laying back against the blankets and making you lay on top of him.
His kisses moved to your jaw and to your collarbone making you let out a gasp and thread your hands through his dark locks. All the pent-up feelings and chemistry that had built up between you was finally reaching a breaking point, in your childhood hangout no less. Your hands made work with his clothes, taking off his jacket and working on the buttons of his shirt. He pulled the straps of your dress down your shoulders when you finally managed to rid him of the annoying button-down.
To make it easier for him, you straightened your back so he could pull the entire thing up and over your head. You were left in just your underwear and Jihoon paused to look at you before taking off his dress pants. “You are gorgeous,” he whispered, pressing light kisses to your shoulders. You closed your eyes, reveling in the feeling of being loved on by him.
Soon you both had been rid of all remaining garments, leaving you completely naked and hands roaming each other's bodies. Jihoon’s length pressed against your thighs, making you moan at the skin contact and buck against him. He hissed in pleasure and bit his lip, the action increasing the arousal at your core. He moved to grind his head against your sensitive nub and you let out a whine.
After a few minutes of that, you couldn’t stand it anymore. You needed him inside you. “Jihoon…” you breathed out.
“Yes?” he asked.
“Please,” you whimpered.
He reached over to his discarded pants to get the little foil packet from the pocket. He opened it and slid the condom over his cock with a hiss. He steaded your hips and ran his length through your folds a few times before he slowly slid into you, letting you adjust to his size.
“Fuck,” he let out a groan as your heat engulfed him. He began moving slowly within you. Your sacred childhood treehouse was now filled with lewd slaps of skin against skin and moans filled with pleasure. You established a rhythm that had you both slowly chasing your highs together. Your moans had turned to mewls as the coil in the pit of your stomach was stretching to its limit.
“I’m close, Ji,” you whimpered. The use of Jihoon’s nickname drove him to the edge as well and he pumped into you that much harder. The coil snapped and you orgasmed, hard enough that your thighs shook. Your walls contracting around him made Jihoon hit his high as well. His hips stilled and he let out a groan, emptying his seed into the condom.
He slowly pulled out of you and you both collapsed next to each other on the blankets with heaving breaths. After a few minutes and your breathing had returned to normal, Jihoon turned to look at you, his head resting on his shoulder. “So, frienemies?” he asked with a chuckle.
You reached out and smacked him in the chest. “Jihoon!”
“Ouch, I’m kidding. I know we are more than that. So much more than that,” he said, tugging you closer to him and leaving a kiss on your forehead.
“Yes, absolutely more than that,” you agreed. Jihoon drove you crazy, but you came to the conclusion that you didn’t want it any other way.
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FAMILIAR — Guero [September Prompts] 🩶
A/N: because I kinda miss him + idk what’s going on in the Mayans tag since I haven’t checked it in awhile and this song appeared on my shuffle—that I forgot that I loved lol—and I don’t think I’ve written anything messy surrounding Guero so here you go…don’t tell my therapist 🤪
S/N: Gave Guero a government name like in one my other fics for him but switched the first name this time—I think I saw this name drop from another writer before as well so if you’re reading this please let me know lol! Also let me know which one you’re feeling better for him, Javier or Gustavo?
PROMPT ADDED FROM HERE & I’m using: ²⁸⁾ dark lipstick smeared on a cheek.
WARNINGS: language ofc + underlining innuendos?
゚ ⋆ ゚ ☂︎ ⋆ ゚゚ ⋆ ゚ ☂︎ ⋆ ゚゚ ⋆ ゚ ☂︎ ⋆ ゚゚ ⋆ ゚ ☂︎ ⋆ ゚゚ ⋆ ゚
Doing a double take a few spaces away from the front desk, lets you know that your eyes were in fact not deceiving you. It was like the buzzing in your ear overshadowed the low sad 80s track that belonged to Dionne Warwick. The overdone ringing on the bell snapped you out of it, hands tightening onto the set of papers that were already in your hands. The obnoxious ringing of the bell, made you quickly close your eyes and take a deep inhale before you put on your professional face.
You step closer to the front desk, placing the papers down and shot your hand out to rest on top of the man’s to stop his assault on the bell. “Good afternoon,” you gave your award winning smile that would make anyone weak in the knees, “welcome to The Monolith, are we checking in?”
Guero’s face abruptly pulled away from the woman that was nuzzling the tip of her button nose right against his. Once his eyes settled on your hand on his and then attached it to your face, you watched him gulp and flicked your eyes back to the girl who looked awfully familiar.
Like looking in the mirror really.
“Uh yeah, it should be under—
“Bardales or Guero?” You quizzed, almost snatching your hand back from on top of his and shifting to find his reservation on the computer down below.
He clears his throat, “Guero.”
You nod, a smirk playing on your lips as you went to work wanting this to be over and fast. He’s awkwardly glancing back at your mini you, who’s also staring at him oddly with his sudden change in moods; with her hand still intertwined with his before she turns her attention back to you.
“Excuse me, I know this is a long shot but did you ever live in Tucson?” The woman asks you as you move your eyes back to her.
She really did look like she could be related to you with just a few minor physical changes…which almost made you want to laugh. It was really funny because the bitch—sorry—the girl was some type of influencer. How did you know that? Well let’s just say she’s liked a lot of your pictures on the gram when you and Guero were either going through your disagreements and even when you both officially called it quits! The other version of you even liked a tiktok of yours before you put it right on private. After that? She later filmed a tiktok of herself getting her hair done just like yours!
It was borderline creepy once you had the time to connect the dots.
“You know what?” You place a hand on your hip, “I actually did. Even grew up there!”
Guero exhaled, just waiting for you to expose your history but you were playing right along. There was no way this woman was that much of airhead and didn’t recognize you. You had suspicions whenever you and Guero had your disagreements, he was always venturing off to some party to get wasted until he was ready to have a solid conversation that didn’t involve yelling. Staying out all night was his answers to coping and he knew how much it irritated you because the last thing you wanted was if something bad happened to the other, you didn’t want the last memory to be a shitty one you know?
“Wooow! See I knew it, babe! She just gives that vibe you know?” She grinned up at Guero who just hummed and forced a smile on his face.
You laugh with a shake of your head before turning your attention back to the computer to finish the process of checking the two in. They were staying for the weekend and unfortunately you were working this entire weekend, filling in for a co-worker who was a brand new dad and the other who normally worked weekends was down with the flu. Being understaffed was the norm these days but you really had to give props to the restaurant workers and bartenders in this hotel, the locals were a different breed that’s for sure. And not many people came out here to this copper mining town so you often had to take in the strange like a shot of tequila.
“Why Jerome?” Guero wonders.
Jerome, Arizona wasn’t your first choice—your friends tried to talk you out of it—nearly begged— but honestly you didn’t have a first choice yet you knew you wanted to stay in Arizona and thanks to a generator brought you here permanently.
You sigh, “I got tired of a lot of things in Tucson …the scorpions started to almost be infested where I lived and I didn’t want another scare but that’s a story for another time!” You winked at the tatted man before continuing, “Also I dropped out of school and living off savings wasn’t cutting it anymore so I got a job…far enough away where the job opportunities are somewhat better. That’s all I wanted, change and I got it.”
Guero didn’t have to read very hard between the lines to get where you were coming from. It wasn’t easy by any means, he loved a good chase and you happened to be his best one, yet not every relationship was going to be a walk in the park. Your father didn’t like him whereas his mother loved you. Guero or as you knew him—Gustavo—always felt like something was missing from his life so when he reconnected with his father, that’s unfortunately where your relationship started to falter even more.
Yes you had disagreements before Guero began to rebuild his relationship with his father. You wouldn’t point the finger at just that, you actually got along with his dad well. He always said you’re the one that would take Guero’s (yes he joked that once Guero had his eyes set on anything and decided to stick with it, he turned into the exorcist) spinning head and keep it on straight. Mostly your fights were over stupid little petty things, Guero was more independent when it came to financials being a stable tattoo artist before he got sworn into the Tucson charter whereas you always had backup from your own parent(s). Guero felt like you picked his mother’s side in his decision to be part of the club but his confidence in the club and his father made him boastful. Guero loved a good argument but once you weren’t trying to hear anymore, he was definitely going out to party with or without you.
He’s never cheated on you regardless of how it looked right now, he absolutely believed in a faithful union and although you said you needed a change…you weren’t exactly thrilled for him to be part of this brotherhood. With his new girl, who was very flashy online but sickeningly sweet in personality she wasn’t down his neck about what he did because she had her own shit to focus on. Not that you didn’t, considering you’ve been in school for what felt like forever but he wasn’t down to hear your disapproval.
It felt controlling at times.
“So…you’ll be staying with us for two nights and checking out on Sunday. You’ll be staying in the king guest room number five which is located on the upper floor. Here are some brochures that explain a little bit of the history of this hotel and town along with things to do.” You hold out the pamphlet which the woman happily takes and begins flipping through like it’s a vogue magazine, “I’ll just need your ID since we already have your payment on file and then I’ll send you two lovebirds off to enjoy the romantic getaway you booked.”
The woman sighs dramatically as she loops her arm with Guero’s as he digs through his back jeans pocket for said ID, “it’s her birthday and I thought it would be a nice change of scenery.”
“Yeah everyone’s looking for that lately.” You pluck the ID from Guero’s fingertips to input into the computer.
Guero huffs, “can’t be mad at that right?”
“Course not,” you mutter before putting your famous smile back on as you hand him back his card, “You two are all set, we hope you enjoy your stay here with us at the monolith. If there’s anything else we can do to make your stay more comfortable, please don’t hesitate to ask any of our staff.”
He notices how you didn’t mention them asking you for help but he bites back saying that out loud.
Guero’s new girl bounces on her toes, “oh this is going to be so cutie! Thanks girlie!”
You try not to cringe and manage to keep that smile on your face, even when Guero burns his dark eyes into your frame. Once they turn to leave with Guero’s duffel bag and her handful of bags that he’s mostly carrying, you let the smile drop with a roll of your eyes. Putting your back to the front desk you turn to see your manager peeking out from the back office ajar door.
He asks just based on the expression on your face, “Everything okay?”
“Peachy.” You say but thanks to having a good work relationship with your manager, who surprisingly wasn’t an asshole—although he looked like it with his magician mustache, waves you in to talk about it if you wanted.
It had to be about thirty minutes when you’re hearing the bell ring obnoxiously again. You knew you should have went out to enjoy your lunch because when your manager came back in to tell you that Guero wanted your, “assistance,” no matter which way he tried to persuade that you were busy and wouldn’t deal with him hounding his staff, you picked up on Guero’s irritation quickly once he let this drop from his mouth:
“What’re you her fucken sugar daddy or something? I wouldn’t think so with that shitty mustache. Trust me, she prefers facial hair much lower.”
That’s when you pushed the rolling chair back, the chair slammed against the wall as you dusted off the crumbs from your fingertips. The noise caught Guero’s attention as he craned his neck to try to see you.
“I knew she was back there, fucken bozo.”
You stepped out, running your tongue over your teeth as you gently placed a hand on your manager’s shoulder, “Mr. Bardales, I’d really appreciate it as much as my manager would, if you would refrain from making a scene.”
“I wouldn’t have to if this motherfucker wouldn’t have lied to my face.” Guero points at your manager who just sighs.
Your older manager already deemed Guero as being one of those difficult customers after learning just a little of what you shared.
You pat his shoulder, meeting his eyes to let him know you were fine and would handle this but that didn’t stop him from glaring at Guero on his way by, which made Guero raise his middle finger at him in response.
“Are you finished?” You clip, “you don’t think I get a break here?”
“Clearly you need a break dealing with a whack place like this.” Guero shrugs while he moves to rest his elbows on the counter.
Yet he picked this whack place to bring his new fling for the weekend? Make it make sense!
You roll your fingers around, “so what? What can I do for you since you’re down here showing your ass? Want to upgrade to the penthouse suite, which is on the adjacent building—
“No,” Guero interrupts with a shake of his head as he picked up a pen to rack against the counter, “I came down here to see what’s up with you?”
“Pardon?”
“Cut the shit,” Guero says your name with a scowl, “what’re you really doing out here?”
You start to feel your blood simmer, “where do you get off questioning me? You want to start shit, well let me talk my shit. How long did it take you to find my look alike, huh?”
“What?” Guero sucks his teeth, “she doesn’t look anything like you.”
“That bitch looks like she could be my half sister, stop it.”
You tried to cut back on using that word but sometimes old habits die hard.
Guero laughs with a drop of his head, “listen to yourself, sounding like you’re jealous that I’ve moved on.”
Did he though?
“Please, I doubt you’re truly happy. I never thought you would have gone for an influencer type of chick but…to each their own.” You start shuffling some papers.
Guero glared at you now, “that would make you happy huh? Me being fucking miserable.”
Your eyes burn into his now, slightly turning to see the dark lipstick that’s smeared on his cheek, “I meant what I said when we last saw each other, that I hope you get whatever you’re looking for and I thought that wasn’t me.”
“Are you serious? Once we finally got together…I never pictured anyone else. I wanted you, only you and I had you but I guess it just wasn’t enough then.” Guero shrugged, his shoulders then slumping just a bit but his jaw was still set.
Puffing out a breath you respond, “well now you got it…for however long this time. If there’s nothing else I can help you with in this moment then…I wish you both well.”
“Wait,” Guero grips your wrist, which your eyes peek down at before meeting his face once more, “…I just need to let you know…it’s probably always going to be you but in order for me to get that out of my head—
“You need to accept the things you can’t change?”
Just like you did. You think to yourself.
“Who says I can’t?” Guero argues with a furrow of his thick brows.
You pull out his first name with a scrunch of your nose, “I’m not fucking you Gustavo, uh uh that’s out.”
He laughs, running his thumb over your skin, “as much as I love your enthusiasm about spending a hot steamy afternoon with me that you’ll never forget…I just needed to be honest and ask…is there someone else for you?”
You blink but lean forward with Guero letting his eyes trail to your lips for a split second, “There could be. Maybe he’s in this whack town somewhere, who knows? Do you want me to let you know when I find them?”
“Fuck you, didn’t you block my number?”
“I did.”
“…why am I feeling like we’re not gonna cool?”
You tilt your head to the side, “I’ll say this, fuck you too and this will be the last time I think it or say it. You want to take up so much space in my mind but the thing is…you haven’t since I left. Clearly I’m still on yours rent free and forever got your heart according to you, so maybe I should be flattered?”
Guero’s eyes tighten at your words but he can’t lie and say his boy below wasn’t feeling something. You step back but Guero yanks on your wrist so that you’re almost bending towards him, “say what you want but I know you miss me.”
Cackling with your head thrown back, you wipe at the dampness by the corner of your eye, “What’s there for me to miss? It’s over. Oh and tell my twin that she needs to aim behind your ear next time, that was always your favorite spot right?”
Guero let’s go of your wrist and you move to fix your blazer just as he’s jumping over the counter to grip both sides of your face to smash his soft plump lips right against yours. His hips dig into yours as he shoved you back against the wall, mouth battling against yours followed by moans.
That’s what he thought about doing but by your words and body language, he knows if he pulled that, he would probably have to catch your hands first. So he’s stuck watching you walk away this time, that professional smile on your lips was deadly but he didn’t just watch you leave without chunking the pen at the wall once you’re no longer in his view.
Leaving a mark that contrasted against the paint and matched what he felt in his chest.
゚ ⋆ ゚ ☂︎ ⋆ ゚゚ ⋆ ゚ ☂︎ ⋆ ゚゚ ⋆ ゚ ☂︎ ⋆ ゚゚ ⋆ ゚ ☂︎ ⋆ ゚゚ ⋆ ゚
(Possibly) continue with my September anthology prompts here.
#Spotify#queued#september prompts#September#mayans mc#mayans mc x reader#guero mayans#Guero Mayans x reader#Andrew jacobs#mayans x reader#mayans fx
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BillFord Fic
I haven’t gotten invited to ao3 yet so I’ll just post it here anyway. It doesn’t have a name so I’ll just post a teaser or whatever. Idfk. It’s a billford fic ig. As soon as I get ao3 I’ll post it on there. I do have more written. I’m just taking the first part for a test drive. Let me know ur thoughts! (Literally anything- name suggestions scene suggestions, if i should post it on ao3, explanations etc.)
Entry 167: Series 6
Out of all the curiosities I’ve studied in my travels, this has to be one of the most shocking enigmas yet. This timeline had the bottom story of the shack left with two gaping holes at the top. In fact, it’s as though the shack grew legs and walked away. Which is completely bizarre- even for a weirdness magnet such as Gravity Falls, Oregon. The countless timelines I’ve visited so far were nowhere near this level of insanity. This level of… intrigument. The state of the timeline has this enrapturing effect on me.
Recently the timelines I’ve been traveling through have had a different variable. Two in fact. As it turns out, me and my brother have a great-grandniece and nephew. Dipper and Mabel. While I’ve been careful to not interact with any timelines I’ve found myself caught up in (especially after that incident with the Time Police), I still somehow find myself growing attached to the two. For the past few months I’ve been observing them through the different timelines I’ve traveled to. There has also been the reoccurring pattern of their other ‘Gruncle’ re-emerging from the same portal I find myself appearing from every few days. I’ve been waiting… counting down the days til it’s my turn. And yet, I still don’t understand why I continue to keep that false hope in my pocket. The multiverse is infinite. The chances of me ever finding my home universe is nearly pointless. While I could always take the place of another Stanford… The Time Police would be on my case in a second. I also understand that the multiverse I was sent to wasn’t the same one as the other Stanfords. While I’m dealing with infinites of my brother, they were dealing with beasts beyond basic human comprehension… and yet I’d much rather that than to be cursed knowing I’d never get home. To see Dipper and Mabel fail… over and over… with myself unable to assist… sometimes I thought it was driving me mad.
I’ve certainly spent more time reciting the last few entries than I should’ve. So I shall continue with the present. The shambles of my lab have made for an adequate shelter. (Save for the 2 overgrown hairless mole rats I’ve needed to fight off for my rations). The sky appears to be a blood red, many of the familiar surrounding trees were reduced to brambles, probably by some larger species I’d like to take the time to investigate at a later hour. This area has been intensely modified compared to the other Gravity Falls I’ve been in. I have a hunch this is due to the large vortex that ripped through the dimension. (That was in fact sarcasm my dear reader). So far I’ve studied and dissected one of those overgrown Eye-Bats that can turn a person to stone just by looking at them. From memory; I will promise they were much smaller and could not turn one to stone in my own timeline. Why would anyone feel the need to weirdify these anomalies? Some sort of apocalypse has settled over this world. Whether or not it was always like this is unknown. I’m leaning towards the latter though. I shortly ran out of things to do after examining my last two specimens and I itched for more information on these preternatural creatures.
Ford sat in what was left of his desk chair and kicked his feet up. He would kill for a mug of coffee right now.
Ford ran a hand through his hair. Since the portal incident, he’s grown it out. He’s grateful he didn’t cut it when he could. It more than likely would’ve exaggerated the up and coming gray hair. Though… he shouldn’t exactly care how he looks because he’s not supposed to be seen in other timelines according to the Time Police. In the end, he still does get a fond satisfaction of knowing he’s at least well kept. And mistakes happen. He continues to have the same clothing pattern of turtle necks- though he only ever wears them underneath his long coat. It proved to be very useful when traveling timelines. The amount of pockets he had to keep so many samples in almost seemed like cheating. He also always had his bag with him. Most of his pockets aren’t big enough for his journal, and he’s filled up a couple while he was traveling timelines. His love of pockets also extended to his lower half making sure to have maximum pockets on his cargo pants. He even bothered with a hidden one in his shoe for an emergency lock pick. If that wasn’t enough, his obsession with Sci-Fi led to him wanting to live it to its full extent, so naturally he put knives in both heels of his boots as well.
Normally he’d care that there were some contaminated combat boots being rubbed all over his desk. But now? He thought he might as well embrace the end of the world. He loved his family to death, but if any of them saw him in a timeline other than his origin the whole universe would collapse in on itself, and they would be the ones dead. Ford could always scramble back to his portal and go to the next timeline. According to the Time Police that is. Though there have been many instances where he has intervened in his earlier days with no consequence.
The man mindlessly fiddled with his gun on the inside pocket of his coat. He wanted to study more. Maybe the giant gash in the sky was the root of his greatest mystery! He unhooked his heels from the edge of his desk and swung them around towards the bunker hatch. He pushed himself off from the armrests of the chair. Stanford climbed up the ladder and popped his head out of the bunker. He supposed the first step would be to find a lookout point. If he was lucky he might be able to stay in one place long enough to do a quick sketch of this timeline’s situation. The first place Stanford’s mind drifted was his abandoned UFO- though it was identified and no longer flying, so he dubbed it the alien spacecraftt. It gave a perfect view of the entire town and was rather close to his current position. Ford gave a once over of everything in his satchel. He plucked out his journal in order to sift through the small bit of food, water and any other trinkets he had before neatly replacing it and went on his way.
As Ford traveled he kept a hand on his gun. Aside from the terrors the scientist was getting antsy to encounter, he was the only other sound he heard. His boots trudged along the ground -making distinct squishing sounds- as though he were walking in his own wet socks. The ground beneath him was unnaturally wet causing the uncomfortable feeling. There was the occasional shuffle as he adjusted his jacket to the odd temperatures. Ford made a mental note to journal about the seemingly miniature air masses that drastically changed the temperatures in as little as every few feet he walked. The long coat was currently adjusted to be draped over his shoulders, as Ford found this to be a happy medium and made a constant grip on his gun easier.
A rumble struck the ground just as Ford’s own foot hit the earth. The man felt a jitter course through him, crawling up his spine.
“Another weirdness wave!” The man exclaimed with much more enthusiasm than anyone else trapped in this hell bubble ever would. He licked the first two of his fingers and raised them up in the air, turning them at different angles until he found the direction that gave his moistened fingers the most chill. After finding the wind direction he quickly hid behind a tree and scrambled through his bag. His six-fingered hand reemerged with a sort of hand made device. It was made from old lab parts created during his first few days in this timeline. It allowed him to calculate the intensity of the weirdness wave and further study its properties. He carefully placed the machine away from the cover of the tree and braced himself for things to get weird.
The wave passed over Stanford relatively easily and he observed no mutations to himself. Stanford went to pick up his wave reader when-
“Oh. How peculiar… Shit.” The man’s handmade invention had grown to compete with the surrounding forest’s pine trees. For a moment the Author thought that he would be unable to run. For a moment the Author believed he was frozen in time. For a moment he saw himself as a child. For a moment he saw his brother. For a moment he saw the twins.
Stanford found the right gears that made the joints in his legs move. This was no longer his invention. It had grown six legs of its own. The calculator screen that was once used as a makeshift reader display was its mouth and the antenna was its tongue. Ford was tempted to take a picture, though he doubted such would be worth his life. He raced through the forest. It was almost as if its size grew due to this oddity apocalypse. The scientist didn’t have a chance. Every time he heaved himself over a log, the creature could bash itself right through it after him. He needed to think of something… he’d kill to meet his niece and nephew.
The Author took out his loaded gun as he ran through the brambles. He took a sharp turn, causing the monster to slide in an effort to regain its balance. Ford began to aim as the creature was tipped onto its side. It landed with a loud thump, causing multiple mutated birds to fly away startled. Stanford lowered his gun and stood stunned in front of his creation, as its legs flailed about, damaging the surrounding shrubbery.
“Intriguing!” Ford quickly snapped a picture. As much as he’d like to inspect the helpless thing more, he deemed it safer to continue with his original task. He would’ve stayed longer if one of the monster’s legs didn’t reach out and claw at his coat, tearing it down its side. A bit closer and the scientist would’ve been seriously injured. He jumped back and continued with his task of sketching this new timeline. He also made a mental note to log his encounter in the journal when he was in the clear.
~
He finally made it to the spacecraft. Ford would definitely consider using this as a hideout in this world. Contrary to Ford’s belief, the state of this timeline was only in Gravity Falls. He remembers studying the Natural Law of Weirdness Magnetism as a younger man, but he never believed it could affect anything to this extent. Ford sat down atop the spacecraft. He snapped a picture of the surrounding scene.
Entry 167 B. Series 6
There seemed to be a large barrier encasing Gravity Falls. More than likely the Natural Law of Weirdness Magnetism. I’ve studied the topic before and have come up with a simple equation to break it. The scene before me is both exhilarating and dread ensuing. To even think about the situations my brother and the kids have gone through haunts me. I want nothing more than to be able to talk with them. Even if it’s not my universe. I want to hear their stories and watch them grow up… I wish for my own universe. I’ve traveled the timelines for much too long. I’ve watched them. But I want to see them. To meet my Mabel, my Dipper, my Stanley. I want to meet my family. But where would I even start? The time police?
I looked off to the sunless horizon and noticed a large pink orb sitting dead center of the train tracks with Mabel’s zodiac on it. My breathing sputtered. Just what were these kids into this timeline? I decided it’d be best to head back to the lab. I’d like to be there when the portal reopens.
Maybe… maybe I can try one more time. My sentence is already high enough as it is with the Time Police… I want to help my niece and nephew… no matter what universe they’re in. There has to be a reason the Time Police aren’t on my tail by now… especially after that monster was created. I’ll spend the night at the lab again and work on relocating to the spacecraft tomorrow. Then I’ll find my brother.
Ford replaced his bookmark into his journal and brushed himself off. He stood up on the roof of the dead spaceship and gave one last glance at the world he found himself in before beginning the few hour trek to where the Mystery Shack once stood. Stanford was nearly to his hideout. About where he left the wave reading monster. There was one problem that had unnerved the Author for more than one reason. A question that bubbled out of his mouth as soon as he seen the large clearing in the trees where the monster had been discarded.
“Where is it?” His question was shortly answered as a screech was heard not too far behind him.
“Fuck! Are you Serious?!” The scientist grumbled and quickened his pace. It was following him. Either it had extremely sensitive hearing or it was tracking him by scent. Whatever the case was, his hands itched to jot it down in his journal. He didn’t have much time for that as he found himself being chased by the beast once again. Ford continued to race to the lab and attempted to slide into the underground space. The mechanical creature’s claw lurched out and nicked his back, sending him flying forward and creating another large hole in the roof. He landed ungraciously on the floor of his lab with a groan. As a last resort Ford turned over on his back and began shooting wildly through the crack. The mechanical anomaly screeched as it was shot at, retreating immediately. Ford felt the back of his coat begin to soak and his vision blur. The tips of his finger began to numb as his arm fell to the ground.
With one last screech, a fourth hole was punctured into the top of the lab, right over the portal, leaving Ford’s escape in shambles. He would’ve screamed, or yelped with his hand held out dramatically as any Author such as himself would, but that was the last sight seen before he passed out completely.
~
“Do you think it’s dead?”
“I say we eat it”
“Dudes. Is it just me? Or does it kinda look like Mr. Pines.”
“Soos. It has SIX FINGERS! SIX! It had to be some sort of clone… or- or… imposter.” Pages began to flip in the background of the following commotion. Quiet muttering was also heard following each turn of paper- though it was mostly blocked out by the pounding in Ford’s head.
“Mr. Pines… do you… know anything about this?” Ford was becoming conscious enough to pick out voices. This seemed to be the only female among the group.
“Stanford…?” This was a new voice. Much older than the others. It wavered as it said his name- effectively snapping him out of the painful slumber he was in.
Ford started with a groan and his eyes squinted shut, adjusting to the abnormal light- even for the living world. In this universe that is.
“Dudes. It’s waking up.” Ford mumbled and rubbed his head. Thankfully the wound on his back didn’t go that deep into his back. Though the semi-dried blood latching the fabric of his coat to himself was very uncomfortable.
“Sixer!” Stanford opened his eyes just in time to see the back of a tacky red hat by the side of his head. Arms enveloped his shoulders partially helping Ford keep himself up.
“Stanley…” The scientist just barely breathed out.
“STANLEY?!” Ford couldn’t be bothered to look up from his brother’s shoulder at the other’s exclaimation
“Is anyone else confused right now? Cause I’m confused.” Soos commented. Stanley sighed before releasing his disoriented brother.
“Kids, Soos, I want you to meet… the author of the journals.” Stan was hesitant to let go of his brother, as though if he let go of his brother’s shoulder he’d disappear back into the fabrics of existence. Dipper did an excited squeal and almost ran up to properly greet his practical obsession, but Wendy put a calm hand on his shoulder to stop him from ruining the two brothers' moment. She decided she needed more context with her boss’ secret twin before Dipper butted in.
“Stanley. I need- I need to tell you something.” Stanford’s voice wavered with guilt. As multiple scenarios ran through his head. More than likely this wasn’t his universe. He doesn’t know what happened to his own timeline, or this one… though it’s not like he can continue traveling timelines with the portal busted. Ford opened his mouth to speak- but no sound came out as a thought surfaced to his head.
‘…what if this is my timeline? What if the portal busted for a reason? Maybe… I can stay a while. They need my help…’
“Yeah?” Stanley asked- a small smile almost suppressed on his face.
“…I missed you.” Ford sighed out. He pulled Stan back into him. The other man slapped his back playfully with a goofy grin. Ford winced and let out a small yelp.
“Oh… forgot about that. Welp. I smiled too little in the past 3 weeks to smile this much now. Let’s get back to the shack.” As if on queue, an ominous roar shook the ground under them.
“Agreed.” Wendy said.
“Yup, yup, yup, let’s go!” Soos hauled Dipper over his shoulder and sprinted out of the Lab and everyone else followed. Ford found himself lingering for a moment- his eyebrows furrowed as he stared at the remains of his portal. It’s gone. It’s all gone.
“Hey, bro. Let’s get out of here, ‘k?” Stanley put his hand on Ford’s shoulder, offering a hopefully comforting smile.
“We have a lot to talk about Stanley…” Similar to any other earth tremble, the earth shook following the signs of a beast approaching.
“Yeah, yeah. Can we do that later?” Stanley tugged his brother along by the back of his coat leading him out of the lab. Stanford followed behind- occasionally wincing from the pulling on his jacket.
#bill cipher#stanford pines#stanley pines#dipper pines#mabel pines#gravityfalls#gravity falls stanford#gravity falls bill#fanfic#gravity falls fanfiction#billford fic#this is my first time doing this I feel like ford after coming back through the portal#the book of bill#I still need to read the book of bill lol#billford#weirdmageddon#gravity falls weirdmageddon#gravity falls wendy
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Lucky Shirt - Prof!Benedict Cumberbatch (smut)
I got the chance to work with @writingliv once again – yes, I am very much fangirling, y'all know how much I adore Liv – and boy, I am so proud of us and of this beautiful fic we've written together. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this! Enjoy my loves. xxx
Summary: Professor Cumberbatch was perfect. He was sweet, supportive, ever-willing to help. He was attentive and loved to praise your achievements. It came to no surprise that you had ended up trying and succeeding at becoming his favourite student. The two of you had become an unstoppable duo, however, could there be more than mere passion for academia behind it?
Warnings: 18+, smut, piv, lots and lots of tension, small sprinkles of angst, age gap, professorxstudent relationship
Pairing: Prof!Benedict Cumberbatch x fem!reader (about 9k words, she's a long one)
Professor Cumberbatch led a life full of rules, keeping clear schedules, boundaries, and conversations. Honest, passionate, and helpful would probably be the three words most people would use to define him. A life dedicated to teaching, to helping, to learning. He never swayed away from his clear-cut schemes unless it was for somebody else’s benefit. Selfless… Professor Cumberbatch was also incredibly selfless.
You, however, would think this set of facts did not do justice to his character. Professor Cumberbatch was not just selfless. He was an absolute saint. He had been your point of guidance since you first joined his class in your last year of undergrad and had offered you a place as a research assistant as a Master’s student. He had happily stayed until late hours helping you with your first dissertation and had never failed to answer any question related-or-not to his topic. Benedict Cumberbatch was your hero, which made your crush on him so much more inappropriate.
You had tried to stop thinking about him that way, feeling guilty at the idea that this saint of man was so willing to help you and take you under his wing, and all you did was fantasise about him breaking all the university rules and fucking you. It was an awful feeling, especially when you were sure he didn’t feel the same way, but it was something you couldn’t yet find a way to get rid of.
So here you were, sitting in his office, wearing that baby blue shirt he had once complimented a year ago or so, waiting for him to come back with news on whether you had been accepted to attend the most important conference in your field. You had excused your continuous wear of the shirt by referring to it as your lucky colour, making it the perfect attire for any important moment you had shared with the professor.
Your black heels had been incessantly tapping his beautiful Persian rug as you tried your best not to bite your nails when the door of the office finally opened incredibly slowly, and a gloomy Cumberbatch appeared on the opposite side wearing a shirt of a starkly similar colour as yours. “I am sorry…” he started to speak, and you felt your heart drop immediately, your hands moving to your face, covering it. “That you will have to cancel all your plans for the week April 19th because we are going to the conference!” He shouted your way, a gigantic crooked smile filling his mischievous face. You couldn’t believe it, instantly uncovering your face and checking his expression for a bluff.
You couldn’t help yourself jumping up from the excitement and reaching for him, giving him a hug. Your professor seemed to equally disregard all decorum, wrapping his hands around your waist before whispering to your ear, “it seems like your lucky colour works.” You tried your best to hide the growing warmth on your cheeks as he let go of you.
“Thank you so much for this! I am so excited! I cannot believe it!” You replied once the two of you were at an appropriate distance again, still looking at each other with the utmost admiration and excitement.
“Do not thank me. You did this all yourself. I just had to answer a reference request, and you may be surprised about this, but I find it incredibly easy to tell people how incredible you are.”
…
“Can anybody tell me when Operation Overlord was fought?” Professor Cumberbatch’s voice echoed through the classroom, eyes flickering to meet yours at any given chance. It felt like you two were playing a game, a game whose rules you have long forgotten, unable to focus on anything but him.
Him, the one you dream of when the nights grow warmer, when the heat fills your bedroom like the heat filling your veins whenever he speaks to you.
Him, the one that makes you tremble whenever his skin meets yours, never in an inappropriate way, though forced closer like magnets unable to part.
Him, the man that popped up in your thoughts when you wake and when you are about to fall asleep. An ever present sensation you slowly but surely adapted to.
You didn’t pay attention to the answer of the student that tried to catch the professor’s attention for the past minutes. Your thoughts weren’t able to grow quiet, a loud sound that rang through your mind like a song you couldn’t stop singing. It was wrong, so awfully wrong, and yet you couldn’t stop yourself from craving his touch, wanting to feel his body pressed against yours without any clothing caught in between.
Professor Cumberbatch needed a few moments to rip his eyes from your features, breaking eye contact with a slight scowl tugging on his face. The nagging voice inside your head made you wonder if he was annoyed with the other student for cutting your shared moment short. There was always something so intense about the way he looked at you, forcing you to sit straighter, eyes unable to move away.
“Anything else you want to add to today’s lesson? If not, you are good to go.” Your heart picked up its beat as his eyes found yours once again, a silent way of communicating, asking you to stay behind for a few more moments. The other students pushed past you all too impatiently, wanting to flee from the classroom, but you didn’t move, not able to even try to imagine another place where you’d rather be.
“I won’t hold you back for long, I just wanted to give you these folders. It’s everything they gave me for the conference.” Your fingers brushed his as you took the folder, breath hitched in your chest. His eyes followed your every move, watching you thumb through the papers, unable to bite down your smile.
“I am so excited, I can’t wait for us to go there!” Your voice left him smiling, unable to bite down his excited grin. Your nerves were running wild, wondering how being at the conference with him will play out, praying to whoever was listening that you’d be able to also focus on something else besides the gorgeous professor you wanted to call yours.
…
Soft music filled Professor Cumberbatch’s office, ringing in your ears without distracting you from the essays you were grading with the professor. It wasn’t unusual for you to join in on his later sessions, finding comfort in his closeness, even though you wouldn’t share many words, just a few glances here and there.
“What is it? You are biting your lip again.” Professor Cumberbatch’s voice ripped you out of your trance, eyes snapping up from the paper. Heat flushed through you as you let go of your lip, teeth no longer buried in the warm flesh.
“Sorry, I struggle to follow their argumentation, it simply makes no sense, and you know how much I hate saying this.” Your voice was soft, not wanting to interrupt the calm atmosphere you two were trapped in. You watched him move closer, admiring the way he carried himself, the way his beige trousers hugged his legs, and how the rolled up sleeves of his black dress shirt exposed just enough of his muscular forearms and the watch clinging to his left wrist. Fuck, you’d dream of this tonight, you were sure of it.
“Let me have a look.” The professor sat down next to you on the comfortable sofa placed in the far back of his office. The scent of his cologne crawled up your nostrils, making you shudder as his leg was pressed against yours. His eyes carefully followed the sentence you had highlighted, concentrating on the arguments the student seemed to have struggled with. “Yes, I see what you mean. Leave it on my desk later, I’ll add some comments myself.”
He pushed the essay back into your hands, eyes meeting yours. Neither one of you dared to move, eyes not wanting to break contact, hearts calling out to one another without finding the right words to express what was burning on the tip of your tongues. He broke the intense moment first, clearing his throat before he rose back to his feet.
“I think I’ve kept you here long enough, you should get some rest and start packing your bags.” Disappointment filled your system, slowly nodding your head as a quiet “Of course” left your lips. And with one last glance shared, you left his office with a racing heart and sweaty palms.
…
You arrived at your apartment and dropped on your bed, sighing loudly. It was getting too difficult to deal with, to keep your gazes in check, to keep him from knowing how you felt. It was overwhelming. It was driving you crazy. You were growing so desperate for any hint of reciprocation that you had started to imagine things, seeing lust in his gaze when it couldn't be there, when it shouldn’t be there.
You decided to check your already packed bag one more time, giving into the parting words of your professor. All the outfits for the conferences lay perfectly organised in your bag, each accompanied by a pair of matching lingerie. No. you were not planning on sleeping with anyone at this event. It was just an old trick that you had once read; wearing matching lingerie makes you feel confident even outside of the bedroom.
You were about to close the bag when your phone rang on your nightstand. You picked it up, surprised to see Professor Cumberbatch calling you at almost 1 am.
“Hello?” you picked up, your fingers playing with the silky material of the matching nightgown to your lingerie.
“Hey there, apologies for the late phone call,” his voice sounded tired and stressed. You knew exactly how badly he wanted all his students to do well, and grading always put him in a bit of a bad mood.
“No problem, Professor. Is everything okay?” your question was filled with worry as you sat down on your bed and wondered if he was still in his office.
“I was just thinking about our conversation from earlier, and I was worried you would think I dismissed you because you couldn’t finish correcting that paper. You know how much I appreciate you helping me with corrections, and I wouldn’t want you to think anything bad of my dismissal. It was just so late and… I sometimes worry that I am stealing all your time. I am sure you have better things to do on a Saturday night than spend it with me, correcting papers with me.” He ranted away nervously. You could hear the sound of his dress shoes in the background as he paced through the room.
“There is no other place I’d rather be,” you blurted out right away, immediately realising the finality of that statement.
“Really?” he chuckled bitterly, “I am sure any other woman your age would disagree. Your twenties are important for your career but also to go out, have fun, make friends, and make mistakes. Please don’t let me keep you away from doing all of those things.”
“I am having fun, and I have friends,” you laughed, slightly hurt that he thought you were a complete loser.
“You know what I mean,” he chuckled, embarrassed.
“No, professor, I am not quite sure. From what I understand, you think I am a loser with no friends or fun,” you laughed, teasing him further.
“What I was trying to say is that there are significantly funner things to be doing on a Saturday than correcting papers with me. At your age, I was doing much more interesting things, at least.”
“What were you doing, Professor?” It was an inappropriate question, especially in the tone you had spoken it. You were not sure where it had come out from, but the exhaustion and comfort of your bed had pulled it out of you.
“I don’t know…” he seemed to be thinking, trying to understand himself where he wanted to draw a line before this conversation broke his rules, “I was partying, drinking, getting into trouble, trying to get girls.”
“I do all of those things,” you replied confidently, a foxy smile on your lips and a particularly strong inflexion in the all.
“Girls?” he asked, cursing himself right away for falling into your obvious trap.
“Girls… boys…” you laughed, “I am usually not the one trying, though. Especially recently, nobody has really caught my interest that way.”
“I guess I should take advantage of it and continue to monopolise your time until you do,” his answer sent a shiver down your spine. It was late, and neither of you was thinking perfectly straight.
“I think you should,” you replied before a yawn took over your voice.
“I should let you get some sleep. We have a long week ahead of us. See you at the station tomorrow.”
“Goodnight, Professor.”
…
You watched the scenery pass by, the lush green countryside, the houses that seemed empty and once left behind in a hurry to disappear from rural places like these. Your heart ached at the thought, finding sadness in the empty places, wondering who had once lived inside these buildings.
It had been a good two hours since you had met the professor at the railway station, boarding the train to the conference. And while he was sitting next to you, elbows and thighs close to touching, eyes focused on a book he was reading, you didn’t find the needed comfortableness to focus on your book nor on your notes.
Your mind painted a colourful picture, wondering how the upcoming day with him so close would play out. Even though you were used to seeing him every single week, this was something new, something exciting, something that left you gasping for air.
“Are you cold?” His voice stroked your limbs like the soft April breeze, hands instinctively finding your arms.
“No, I’m alright, thank you.” You shot him a tired smile, cursing yourself for going to bed that late. A yawn clawed through you, eyes momentarily fluttering close. Perhaps you’d be able to find a few moments of rest, nothing long, though just enough to settle your mind and heart.
It felt like a trick of your brain, focusing on the elbow that was slowly pressing against yours, the forearm that met yours on the armrest separating your seats. Your heart was back to jumping in your chest, pounding louder than the rattling noises of the train.
While your mind started overthinking his move, trying to read between the lines, your body seemed to understand what it was supposed to do. All too slow, you placed your head on his shoulder, eyes not daring to flutter open in case you read the signs wrong. A soft exhale of air left the man, hand finding your knee to squeeze your soft skin.
“Get a bit of rest.” His voice successfully managed to lull you to sleep, heart slowly but surely finding a pace that would allow you to rest.
…
“We are here,” a voice shook you softly awake as you realised you had fallen asleep on the man’s arm. You instantly retracted back to your seat, putting as much distance as the train allowed. He looked at you entertained as he stood up, offering you his hand so you could do the same.
You grabbed it slowly, savouring the way his slender long fingers held yours so confidently and got up.
“The hotel is just a 10-minute walk from the station,” Cumberbatch added as he brought down both of your bags from the shelf at the top and then handed you yours.
…
You made sure to fill up the walk with every possible fun fact you had on the city, describing the few monuments you passed by and making sure you to search for your professor’s eyes, incredibly afraid that you had crossed a line by falling asleep on him. He listened to every single one of your words attentively, nodding and smiling as you made the third energy joke in a row.
“We are here,” Cumberbatch finally interrupted you, pointing at a beautiful historic hotel. You exhaled, thankful that soon you would be able to be in your room, away from him, and finally able to think straight.
The two of you entered the hotel and approached the reception, where a pretty, tall girl offered you a smile. “Hi, how are you? We have a four-night reservation under the name Cumberbatch. Two rooms.”
“Mmh… Cumberbatch?” the woman spoke back as she typed the name. A worried expression crossed her face before she looked up, meeting your eyes first and then the professor’s. “I only have one room for two reserved. Not two rooms.”
“That cannot be.” Benedict’s voice was firm and serious as he calmly placed his arms on the front desk.
“I am very sorry. People sometimes get confused when booking from more than one person and assume there are separate rooms.” She spoke politely, showing her best apologetic look.
“I will then pay for an extra room,” Benedict replied, not once turning to look at you.
“We are fully booked,” the woman replied, pressing her lips together, “I am very sorry.”
“There must be SOME available room,” he doubled down before you interrupted him.
“It is fine. We can make it work. The room has a couch, right?” You tried to ease off the tension, smiling at both your professor and the receptionist.
…
“I am so sorry. I have no idea how this mistake could have happened,” Benedict apologised for the tenth time as you reached the elevator, his eyes as soft and heavy as he tried to find a solution to this situation.
“Professor, it is completely fine.” You finally stopped him as the two of you entered the elevator, “there is a couch in the room. I am happy to sleep there.”
“I won’t let you sleep on the couch,” he replied, shocked that you would even think that was an option.
You sighed, closing your eyes, trying to decipher whether this was a dream or your worst nightmare. All you wanted right now was to be alone, to be by yourself, away from the overwhelming need this man filled you with. You had no idea how you would survive sleeping in the same room, regardless of whether it was on a couch, on a bed or on the ground.
The two of you walked towards the room’s door as Benedict bit the inside of his lip to stop himself from apologising again. He opened the door and was met with a queen-sized bed and a tiny minuscule couch. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair, turning back around to you to apologise once again, but you stopped him.
“Let’s grab dinner! I heard some people from the conference are also staying at the hotel and grabbing dinner close by! Let’s go!” You patted him on the back and dropped your bag, ready to leave the room and what it would bring in the following days.
His heavy steps pounded against the ground, following you back towards the elevator. An almost uncomfortable silence was now following you two around, urged on by the inappropriate thoughts you both couldn’t shake off. Perhaps dinner would manage to distract the two of you for a moment, letting go of the tension and relaxing in comfortable chairs with other academics close by.
…
“Some more wine?” Benedict’s breath tickled your neck, forcing you to swallow loudly as you wordlessly reached your glass out for him to refill. His gaze was stuck on your features, on the smile you couldn’t stop from widening whenever he spoke up, murmuring facts about the academics you were now surrounded by.
“You have to tell us, (y/n), how does working with a stubborn man like Benedict Cumberbatch work out?” Your chuckles rumbled through you, eyes finding the piercing ones of the man sitting next to you. By now, you have forgotten most facts Benedict had shared with you, could barely remember their names, and yet you tried to play along, elbows placed on the table with your face placed in your hands.
“Let me tell you, it’s an utter nightmare.” Laughter boomed through the evening, through the garden that surrounded a few tables and chairs. The cosy atmosphere that lingered in the restaurant eased some of your tension from earlier, allowing the two of you to breathe calmly. “I am very lucky to have him by my side. No other professor has ever taught me this much.”
The hand of his that was resting on the back of your chair found your shoulder, fingers stroking your skin softly to communicate the gratitude he was feeling. Benedict was all too used to praises, and yet your words had a new meaning to them, making him sit a bit straighter as he began to pay attention to how some of his colleagues looked at you, unable to bite down their curiosity.
“I am the lucky one, I’ve rarely met students as bright as (y/n).” Heat flushed through you, forcing you to take another sip of your wine. You weren’t nearly as tipsy as you wanted to be, unable to accept his praises, the words he spoke that left your insides churning in excitement.
“Be careful, Benedict, otherwise, we may steal her from you.” One of the men sitting close to Benedict spoke the words without much thought, or so it seemed, not expecting the hard expression to widen on Benedict’s features. The professor didn’t reply, eyes searching yours as you shot him a small smile, hand finding his knee before you could give the gesture much thought. His muscles tensed underneath your hand, but before you could even try to move your hand away, he placed his hand on top of yours, squeezing yours.
“We had a long day, we should catch up on some sleep. Have a good evening.” Benedict’s words forced you to your feet, murmuring a soft “Goodbye” to the others. Your breath got stuck in your lungs as Benedict’s hand found your waist, pulling you closer to him as he guided you out of the restaurant. Once again, you felt your thoughts race, focusing on the way his fingers stroked your clothed waist, guiding you through the warm evening towards the hotel.
No further word was spoken as you stepped into the elevator, standing in front of Benedict with your eyes searching his. You couldn’t ignore the way his eyes flickered between your lips and eyes, praying deep inside that he’d finally close the gap. The two of you stood closer than needed, with his hand still placed on your waist and your hand finding his other one. Perhaps this was the moment you had been desperate for years, hoping that he’d finally cross the invisible line between you.
The mere thought of finally feeling his body pressed against yours left heat to fill your veins, heart pounding in your chest. But before either one of you could move again, the elevator came to a halt, forcing the two of you to step out. Only as the darkness of your shared hotel room lured you closer did you begin to realise that the night wouldn’t end like you had hoped it would.
He turned on the light and spoke, “I will take a shower before going to sleep, but don’t wait up for me, sleep well, (y/n). Please take the bed.”
…
Benedict entered the bathroom and left you alone in the bedroom, leaving you to wonder what you had possibly done wrong to ruin such a perfect moment, to stop him from kissing you. You sat on the bed, defeated, as you heard the sound of the shower turning on. Fuck. Maybe it was the alcohol or the burning feeling on your skin, but this felt like too much, too close, too little. It was ridiculous, nothing that deserved you crying over it, yet you could feel your eyes tearing up. The need was too much. He was too much. It almost felt unfair for him to leave you wanting the way he did.
As the sound of the shower stopped just for a second, you snapped out of your pity party, cleaning the tears from your face and getting changed before your professor could exit the room. You opened your bag and searched for your pyjama, only then realising you had brought your nightgown as your only sleeping option. You sighed loudly, covering your face and then dropping your arms to decide.
“Fuck it,” you spoke to yourself as you took off your clothes, putting on the nightgown that barely covered your ass and left little to the imagination for much else. If he could tease you all night, touching your waist, looking at you the way he did, you could do the same and even if he was not interested at all. Even if you had made every sign up in your mind, no man would not at least be tempted by such an outfit.
The bathroom door opened a few seconds later as you were busy folding your clothes back into your bag. You didn’t even dare to turn around to meet his gaze, suddenly feeling a wave of embarrassment overcome the boldness of the alcohol.
Your professor cleared his throat, and you finally met his gaze, feigning being completely and totally oblivious to what you were wearing. His blue eyes looked almost black by how dilated his pupils were, and you couldn’t help but offer him an innocent smile. He was wearing a loose black T-shirt and some grey pyjama pants.
“I am sorry. I didn’t think I would be sharing my room tonight,” you acknowledged the outfit, walking by his side, brushing his arm just so slightly before entering the bathroom with your toothbrush at hand.
Benedict had to command every single one of his muscles not to turn around, not to look at you walk into the bathroom, not to follow you, to pin you against the sink and fuck you right there.
You left the door of the bathroom open as you brushed your teeth, giving him the possibility to look into to watch as the hem of your nightgown rose high enough to show the curve of your ass. He, however, didn’t. Going straight to his couch and grabbing a pillow and duvet from the cupboard, and laying down.
You exited the bathroom excitedly, hoping to have one more chance to tease him before heading to bed but found him already deep asleep. Facing the back of the couch as he uncomfortably tried to fit within it.
…
POV Benedict
He didn’t dare move, eyes squeezed shut, arms wrapped around his too tall frame for a couch this small. Benedict tried to listen to your breaths, counting them to try and figure out if you were already asleep. His cock was aching, twitching in his boxers in a desperate need to be touched by you.
Fuck, he felt like a young boy, unable to guide his body, to pick up on his needs and urges, and to stop himself from giving in before it got too much. He hadn’t expected you to wear something like this, something that left his heart racing, pumping blood straight to his cock. It was torture, the worst situation he had been forced to live through so far, Benedict was convinced of it.
The second his mind painted a picture of your body pressed against his, he shot up from the couch, searching the false comfort the bathroom offered him, door falling shut with a thud. He could only hope that you were truly asleep by now, not picking up on his movements, the heavy breaths leaving him.
His hand pushed his boxers down his legs, just enough to free his hard cock. Precum was bearding his tip, veins shining through the thin skin, fuck, how much he wanted to feel and see your hands wrapped around him. Would you use your mouth on him? Would you stroke your tongue along the underside of his cock before sucking on his tip?
A heavy moan threatened to leave him, caught seconds before it could echo through the bathroom. His teeth left marks on his lower lip as his hand picked up its pace, fucking himself without any mercy, working on the fleeting time night offered him. Deep down, he hated himself for pushing you away this very night, wondering why he hadn’t given in, why he hadn’t chased the closeness you had been willing to offer. But something had held him back, something he was now regretting.
He couldn’t stop another moan from not leaving him, eyes squeezed shut, head rolled back. His orgasm was close, a desperate need to finally get over the sensations the mere sight of you had pushed through him. Benedict had to stop himself from choking on your name, from talking to the (y/n) he imagined kneeling in front of him.
With one last heavy breath leaving him, white cum began to cover his hand, sticking to his skin. Benedict pumped his cock a few more times before he let go of his cock, settling down on the toilet seat.
…
POV Reader
This night probably counted as the top three worst nights of sleep in your life. You had spent it between nightmares and sweats, waking up every couple of hours, feeling incredibly restless. You were thankful to see that it was already 7 am the next time you were shaken awake by another terrible dream. It took you a second to ground yourself; remember where you were. You instantly turned to the couch and found it empty, the bedsheets of your professor perfectly folded on top of it.
You scanned the rest of the room, sitting up, finding it equally as empty. A mix of disappointment and relief filled your chest as you were equal parts thankful he wouldn’t have to see you with this exhausted face and sad you didn’t even get a glance at how he looked right after he woke up in the morning.
You checked your phone and found a message from him, “Good morning! I wanted to give you some privacy before the big day. I will be waiting for you at the lounge if you want to grab breakfast together.”
You smiled at the message, forgetting all about last night. Everything was okay. The two of you were okay. He was your professor, after all, your rock. He had every right to reject you. Everything was okay.
…
You took your time getting ready, trying the different outfits you had brought as options and opting for the simplest one. Your ‘lucky’ shirt, some black suit trousers, and black stilettos. You exited the room confidently, your bag with your presentation at hand and your earphones in your ears. Your “gameday” playlist playing at full volume.
You entered the hotel lounge, finding your professor sitting on a beautiful leather couch, a newspaper on his lap. He was wearing a white button-up and some navy trousers. You approached him eagerly, removing your earphones and greeting him with a smile, “good morning, professor.”
“Good morning,” Benedict spoke, not meeting your gaze once. Eyes stuck on the newspaper.
“Should we get breakfast?” You kept on the smile, sure, he was just very enthralled by whatever he was reading.
“I have actually already eaten,” he replied with a sigh, intensifying his gaze on the paper. You pouted, disappointed, confused by his sudden coldness. “I have some meetings to attend before your presentation. Do you mind if we meet there already?”
You hesitated in answering, trying to keep the disappointment on your face from turning into clear sadness. He finally looked up, noticing your silence. His eyes were empty, cold like they had never been before.
“Of course,” you finally replied after he raised an eyebrow, “I…I will just go over the presentation by myself.” You had to look away before your eyes started to water, which seemed to pull a reaction right out of you.
Benedict stood up and placed a hand on your shoulder, “you will do amazingly. You are smart and incredible. You don’t need me for this. I will be in the crowd cheering.”
You tried to look at him, thankful that it had just been a small weird moment of coldness, but he had already started to walk away towards the exit of the hotel, leaving you standing there.
…
Were this many people always supposed to be at the event? Had everyone just suddenly realised your topic was cool and decided to listen to you talk? Where was he? You were starting in mere minutes, and there were barely any seats left. Where was he?
You squeezed the flashcards in your hands, trying to stop the trembling in your hands. You peeked once again from the stage, searching for him between the rows of mostly middle-aged men.
“You are going up in three,” some random guy with an earpiece said as you nodded emphatically, shutting your eyes and trying to control your breathing.
You stayed there for a couple of seconds, controlling your breathing, reminding yourself that this was your research. That you could do this alone. That you didn’t need anybody else. You were about to open your eyes when a hand on your shoulder startled you. Blue. All you saw was blue for a second until you could focus on the rest of his face. He had changed. He was wearing your lucky colour.
“Everything will be fine,” Benedict nodded softly, a thin layer of sweat covering his forehead as he seemed slightly out of breath.
“You are here,” you exhaled the words out.
“I am sorry, I-” he lowered his gaze in shame, but he was stopped by the earpiece guy announcing you were up. “You can do this. You are smart. Your research is incredible, and you are so incredibly charismatic that I wouldn’t be surprised if every professor in the room would try to steal you after this. Go show them how amazing you are. I am here.”
You nodded emphatically, instinctively pulling him into a hug and burying your face in his chest just for a second, feeling as he stiffened under your touch. You let go of him and nodded a little more, breathing in and out and walking onto the stage.
…
“Thank you, everyone, for listening,” you closed your presentation as the room broke into a myriad of applauses, a feeling of euphoria filling your chest as you turned to look to your professor, that stood still behind the curtain, giving you the most idolising smile you had ever seen.
You walked out of the stage with a gigantic smile straight towards your professor, whose hands immediately cupped your face, “that was incredible.”
“Thank you,” you looked up at him, immediately filled with all that tension that had been there the night before.
You were interrupted by a group of listeners approaching, and Benedict immediately moved away from you, looking down, realising the inappropriateness of his proximity. It felt as if this moment managed to rip you out of your trance, the bubble of excitement and happiness had popped, and once again doubts began to fill your mind. You were hurt, sad, and angry that Benedict hadn’t been there to support you through the hours leading up to your talk, hiding away from you rather than murmuring comforting words.
Whatever game he was playing, it was a game you found no pleasure in, growing antsy as you began to overthink what had happened in the past hours. From the second he had told you about the conference, Benedict had promised that he’d be with you on that very special day. He’d guide you like a mentor, like a friend, empty promises you were now clinging to. The ship had left the harbour, but the waves of anger had ripped it to the cold ground before the crew could swim to safety. Swimming had always been easy with Benedict near, but drowning had felt so much easier today.
…
The glass of champagne felt cold against your palm as you let your eyes wander. You were able to spot a few familiar faces in the crowd of scientists you were trapped in, celebrating your and their success. Benedict stood close to you, focused on the conversation he had been pulled into, unable to escape before the others had noticed him.
“An impressive talk, (y/n), I hope you’re proud of yourself.” One of the men you and Benedict had dined with yesterday evening was now standing in front of you. He was handsome, almost as tall as Benedict, but his eyes didn’t have that mesmerising blue colour you’d always recognise, his hair wasn’t brown like the coffee Benedict would bring you whenever you helped him grade essays, and his hands weren’t as big as the ones you wanted to feel on your body.
“Thank you! I am very happy about the crowd’s reaction to it.” A smile tugged on your lips as you took a sip, buying yourself some time. Fading seconds Benedict used to study you, the fake smile he instantly saw through, the slightly uncomfortable shifting of your weight from one leg to the other. He stepped closer, hand trying to come to rest on your waist, but you pulled away before he could touch you. “Excuse me, gentlemen, I’ll get myself another drink.”
You felt his eyes burning through your back, standing on the spot you had been standing on seconds ago, jaw muscles clenched. With every step you took away from him, your heart picked up its pace, pounding in your ribcage, fuelled by your anxiety and anger. Why did he have to be so cold towards you this morning? Why did he have to chase the distance rather than finally closing the small gaps between you?
Slowly you made your way through the crowd, holding onto your refilled glass with an iron grip. You weren’t nearly as tipsy enough as you wanted to be, pouring down big gulps to try and get rid of the tension that held your system hostage. Piercing blue eyes found yours from afar, wordlessly guiding you closer, surrounded by men and women you haven’t met before.
“May I introduce you to my wonderful (y/n)?” Benedict’s voice had a strange undertone to it, pronouncing your name with a newfound possessiveness dripping from it. This time you didn’t get to pull away as his hand gripped your waist, pulling you into his side. Your thoughts were racing as fast as your heart, but you tried to smile at the people that now shook your free hand, eyes not wandering from your features. Benedict’s fingers kept boring into your skin, not giving you the slightest chance to even try and escape him.
Only as the people moved on, finding new conversations to get lost in, did you manage to free yourself. With your gaze set on your glass, you took a step away from him and another before his patience seemed to snap. His big hand came down on your wrist, the other took your glass from you to place it down on the nearest table before he started pulling you through the room.
“Where are we going?” He ignored your question, pulling you outside into the hallway.
“What is going on with you? You’re behaving like a child.” Benedict’s words cut right through you, forcing a scoff from you. For a second, you allowed yourself to study him. His eyes no longer reminded you of a cloudless blue sky, but rather an angry storm threatening to unleash its power, fuck, why was he still so very handsome.
“I’m the one behaving like a child? You left me hanging this morning, even though you promised not to leave me alone before the talk!” He clenched his jaw, eyes growing even darker as he took a step closer, towering over you.
“Is that how you speak to your supervisor? I’d be careful of my tone if I were you.” You barely recognised his voice, dark and husky, leaving your thighs clenching and your hands shaking. Even though you were angry at him, so fucking angry, you couldn’t help but let your gaze flicker to his lips, wanting to feel them pressed against yours.
“Are you threatening me? You know what, fuck you, Benedict!” The words left you before you could stop them from rolling off your tongue, trying to turn away from him with hurried steps. But you didn’t get far, pulled against his hard chest with one of his hands cupping your warm cheek and the other resting on your waist. For a few seconds, Benedict studied you with dilated pupils and heavy breaths spluttering from his thin lips. Seconds that passed by all too slowly, torturing you and your racing heart. Something seemed to give him the final push, lips meeting yours before you could speak another word.
Your mind didn’t get any time to focus on the situation, guided by your body, by the way your lips moved in sync with his. For years you had tried to imagine what kissing Benedict may feel like, but this was a new sensation, something raw, something full of emotion, something you were addicted to from the first second on. Your hands found his suit jacket, clinging to him for dear life as if you were scared he’d part from you way too soon.
His tongue moved along your lower lip, coaxing a moan from you. The kiss grew more heated with every passing second, relishing in one another’s touch, the beats of your racing hearts, the blood rushing through your veins, a beautiful mixture. Benedict slowly parted from you to catch his breath, staring down at you with a smirk, an expression that left your insides churning in anticipation. With his hand finding yours, he wordlessly pulled you down the hallway towards the elevator that would take you up to the floor of your room.
Was this it? Was this the moment you had thought of too many times to count? Was this the moment you had thought of as your wandering hands took care of the ache between your legs?
The second the doors of the elevator started to close, you were pulled in for another kiss, pressed against the mirror you didn’t dare look at. You could only guess that you looked like a mess, hair tousled, lips swollen, eyes wide – all because of the man that couldn’t stop touching you.
“I,” Benedict murmured against your lips, hands toying with the fabric of your lucky shirt, struggling to find the right words. “I’m sorry for being this cold towards you, I still struggle with what you make me feel, and with the power my position holds over you, I don’t ever want you to think that I’m using you. You need to know, if you want me to stop, you can always say so.”
His thumb ran along your swollen lips, unable to bite down his smile as you pressed a kiss to his digit. The elevator came to a halt, allowing the two of you to find your way to your hotel room, pushed inside by his big hand finding your lower back. Benedict didn’t let you get far, hands pulling you against his chest, eyes getting lost in yours.
“I need your spoken consent before I touch you.” His lips ghosted over yours, patiently waiting for you to speak up. It took you a few seconds to speak up, unable to concentrate on anything but his touch, the fire he had unleashed inside of you, a fire so daunting he wouldn’t ever be able to tame it.
“Touch me, please, professor.” The use of his title seemed to push Benedict over the edge, growling against your lips as you were guided towards the big bed. His lips found your throat, sucking on the spots that left your toes curling and your heart skipping needed beats. Skilled hands undid the buttons of your shirt, pushing the fabric off your shoulders to expose the lacy lingerie you were wearing. Benedict marveled at you, freezing the moment for seconds as his eyes took in the sight in front of him, wondering how and why he got so lucky.
You murmured his name, snapping him out of his trance, hands working on his shirt. The moment pushed your nerves over the edge, hands struggling to undo the small buttons, signing in relief as he pushed you away, tugging the shirt over his head. Benedict didn’t give you any time to take in his upper body, the muscles you wanted to run your hands across, the freckles and small spots you wanted to kiss, forced down onto the bed. Your professor towered over you, lower lip caught between his teeth as he watched you undo your bra, exposing your breasts to his wandering eyes.
“I’ve been waiting a long time to see you like this, at my mercy, ready to give me whatever I’m asking of you.” His raspy voice left you gasping, eyes rolling back as his hands undid your trousers, helping you out of them. By now, you were only wearing your soaked-through, lacy panties, a sight that could make the blind see again, Benedict was sure of it. A work of art, the finest creation his eyes would ever get to take in. He wanted to take his time with you, wanted to love on every inch of your skin, but his own desperation drove him closer to you, shuffling out of his trousers with hurried movements.
He crawled up your body, flipping the two of you around for you to settle in his lap, feeling his hard cock pressing against your core. Fuck, you were already done for, balancing along the line of your state of pleasure only he’d push you into. His hand found the back of your neck to pull you in for another kiss, eyes fluttering close as his free hand found your chest, cupping your breast, tugging on your hard nipple. Moans clawed through you, all too shamelessly, all too freely, unable to hold back the sounds he elicited.
“I knew I'd never be able to hold back once I touched you, and I was scared of losing my control around you.” You knew he was talking about yesterday evening. You knew he was trying to smooth out the wrinkles on your heart he had crumpled like a piece of paper, and yet you couldn’t focus on them. You kissed him again, murmuring a soft “I need you, professor” against his lips.
His strong hands found your hips, grinding your core against his clothed cock, making your breaths get stuck in your lungs. The both of you were close to snapping, skipping the foreplay just to feel one another, and yet Benedict tried to hold back, not wanting to end your moment together this fast. Your legs quivered, the feeling he pushed through you with the grinding movements left your walls clenching around nothing, forcing a “More, please” out of you.
“Ask for it properly, you know how to be a good girl for me.” Benedict’s teasing words left you whining, eyes fluttering close as he stopped your movements, holding still to patiently wait for you to express your every need.
“Want your cock, fuck, need you inside of me.” A growl was forced out of Benedict, flipping you around once again, panties forced down your legs before your mind could even begin to catch up with his movements. With your body fully exposed to him, you were lying beneath him, staring up at him with lust-blown pupils and your teeth buried in your lower lip. His big hand found your core, brushing his fingers through your folds, moaning as he felt your wetness. You were dripping for him, body showing him how much you needed his touch, how desperate you were for him, for his fingers, for his cock.
His soft fingers circled your pulsing bundle of nerves, forcing your back to arch and your hands to fist the fabric of the blanket you were laying on. Benedict found himself obsessing over your sounds, hoping that he’d get to coax them out of you for endless nights to come, very well aware that he’d never be able to part from you and your bond again.
“Oh fuck, don’t stop.” He had pushed two fingers into your tightness, curling them against your swollen spot. Both of you knew that he was teasing you, fucking you all too slow, wanting to prolong the moment for as long as possible. Curses rolled off your tongue, forcing one of your hands to find his forearm, nails clawed into his skin, set on leaving marks he’d have to hide for the next few days.
“So desperate for me, so pretty, I knew you’d be perfect for me.” His praises left your skin growing warmer, eyes unable to meet his intense gaze. You felt your orgasm growing closer, wanting to let go, giving room to the intense sensation you were aching for. But just a second before you could give in with his name rolling off your tongue, Benedict let go of you.
Your eyes snapped open, staring at him with parted lips and furrowed eyebrows, a moment of confusion passed as you watched him reach for his wallet, pulling out a silvery foil packet. His eyes searched yours as he pulled his cock free, boxers left on the ground next to your panties; you couldn’t pay any attention to the fabric, eyes wandering down his naked frame, taking in the sight of his hard cock. His tip was flushed red, length twitching in his grasp, close to combusting.
“Are you sure about this? We can always stop.” Benedict was once again towering over you, not daring to move as he stared down at you. With one hand, you pulled him down to you, lips finding his as you murmured a soft “Fuck me”. Skilled fingers rolled the condom down his cock, aligning himself with your entrance before he slowly pushed into you. The both of you had to halt for a moment, eyes squeezed shut to take in the new feeling, adjusting to the tightness of your walls to the size of his cock.
“Move, please.” Your command was met with a groan, building a slow rhythm that took a few thrusts for you to get used to. The moans that tried to claw through you were held back by your pressed-together lips, not wanting to give your loud sounds enough room to reverberate through the thin four walls you were surrounded by, something Benedict easily picked up on.
“Don’t hold back, let me hear you, love.” The use of the nickname broke the dam, allowing your sounds to rumble through you. Your nails left marks down his back, scratching at his skin in a desperate try to hold onto him. His hips met yours with every thrust, forcing himself deeper into you, needing to etch this every moment into your mind. “You’re doing so well, my pretty girl.”
The second his tip met your swollen spot, you choked on your gasps, letting go of a high-pitched “Oh god”, very well knowing that you’d cum all too soon. Benedict’s smile began to widen as he picked up on your desperation, fingers finding their way back to your clit. You gripped his shoulders as your orgasm began to rock through you, filling your every pore, overtaking your whole body.
Benedict fucked you through your high, getting lost in your pleasure and drunken features, feeling his own high filling his body. He gave it a few more thrusts before he came, holding still as his cum filled the condom.
…
The rest of the week was spent between conferences, lingering touches, and long nights of fucking. Benedict could barely keep his hands away from you when you were in public. His eyes were always searching for you when you weren’t by his side. His hands perpetually on your waist as the two of you made small talk with other academics. Sometimes you couldn't make it until the night, sneaking into an empty hallway, a bathroom, back to your room. He was addicted to you, and you could barely believe all your dreams had finally come true.
It was safe to say your grading sessions were never the same again. They mostly occurred in his house now, and they included dinner and a couple of fucking-breaks. They weren’t as efficient but significantly more fun.
#Benedict Cumberbatch smut#Benedict Cumberbatch imagine#professor fic#doctor strange#bbc sherlock#Benedict Cumberbatch x you
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The Final Say
Emily wants to put the Christmas tree up in mid-November. Aaron does not.
It's a good thing Emily is an expert at getting her husband to see her point of view.
-x-
Hi friends!
This fic came from a conversation I was having with @cloudlessly-light, who after seeing my Christmas tree in the background of a photo of my cat, told me off for having it up so early haha
Naturally my brain went to 'imagine Aaron and Emily having differing views on when the tree should go up'...and that then turned into a smut fic.
I'm sure I say this every time I write smut, but I truly think this is the filthiest thing I've written so far.
Let me know what you think <3
-x-
Words: 3.5k
Warnings: Smut, 18+ (oral sex, a smidge of dirty talk)
Read over on Ao3, or below the cut
Emily loved Christmas.
She always had, ever since she was a kid. It was something that had always been the same wherever she was in the world, a piece of home that followed her and her mother no matter where they lived. She knew it was for show, she’d known that even when she was young. The tree and the decorations weren’t for her, but for the parties her mother would host, for the dignitaries that would always seem to be in their house, but that never diminished her enjoyment of it. The sparkly lights and brightly coloured ornaments never failing to warm her from the inside out.
She’d always hoped that one day she’d decorate a tree with her own family. Pulling the same ornaments and decorations from a box they stored in the attic every year, not new ones in every city, and placing them on a tree they picked out together, not one that seemingly appeared one morning.
She loved Christmas, and that meant she felt the pull to put the decorations up as soon as the days ticked over into mid-November. She wanted to sit on the couch curled up with her children and her husband and look at the tree. She wanted to bathe in the warm light the string lights emitted, a hot chocolate with whiskey in her palms.
She was even more excited this year than usual. It was Issac’s first Christmas, and even though she knew the 3-month-old would have no clue what was going on, she couldn’t wait to include him in all of the traditions they’d come up with since she’d moved in with Aaron and Jack.
The only issue is, that no matter how much she loved Christmas, Aaron did not.
It’s not that he hated it, far from it. As it got closer to the actual date he got involved in the festivities. He’d walk alongside her at the Christmas markets, one hand in hers and the other in Jack’s, letting them drag him from stall to stall. The debate about the Christmas tree would always begin as soon as she started to think about it, making sure she dropped not-so-subtle hints that would make him raise an eyebrow at her.
It was during their first Christmas together, their relationship only a few months old at the time, when she realised she could use his inability to say no to her when she was naked for her own gain. She’d seduced him easily by walking into his bedroom with nothing more than his favourite lingerie on, and once he’d fucked her into the mattress he’d agreed to her putting the tree up whenever she wanted to.
It had become a tradition in itself. A game between the two of them that would always end with her winning, but it didn’t mean she couldn’t have some fun along the way. In fact, she’d just laid the evidence of last year's fun down for his afternoon nap in the nursery.
Issac was asleep, Jack was at a friend's for a sleepover, and she had Aaron all to herself.
She finds him in their bedroom, focused on putting away laundry, and she wraps her arms around him from behind. She kisses his shoulder through his shirt, and he stops what he’s doing to place his hands over hers on his stomach.
“Did he go down okay?”
She hums and nods, “He’s fast asleep,” she says, kissing his shoulder again before she encourages him to turn to face her, her hands on his hips, “Which means we have some time to ourselves,” she says, looking up at him through her lashes.
“Oh really?” He asks, his hands skating over her waist before they land on her lower back, “What were you thinking?”
She pretends to think about it, her teeth sinking into her lower lip, “We could…put up the tree?”
He groans, shaking his head at her as if he hadn’t known this was coming, “Em, it’s too early.”
She pulls him towards the loveseat they keep in the corner of their bedroom and she pushes him down onto it before she sits on top of him, placing her knees on either side of his hips. She pouts as she settles into his lap, purposely making a point of grinding against him as she does. She bites her lip when she feels his hands tighten on her hips almost involuntarily.
“But it’s Christmas,” she complains as she frowns at him.
“It’s mid-November,” he quips, raising his eyebrow at her. He knew how this would end, that he’d end up giving in like he did every year, but it didn’t mean he was going to give in easily. Especially when it usually ended well for him.
“The boys will be excited,” she says, cupping the back of his neck, making him shiver as she runs her fingers across his skin, “They love Christmas.”
“Jack is 8, he knows when Christmas actually is, and Issac is 12 weeks old, he isn’t even aware it’s Christmas. Or that he has feet.” He replies, watching as she attempts to suppress a smile, “The only things he’s aware of are your breasts and when it’s the most inconvenient time to wake up from his nap.”
She leans in to stamp her kiss against his, smirking when he chases her as she pulls back. She cups the back of his head. “Well,” she says, kissing him again, “Then we’d better hurry up and make sure we don’t give him a chance to interrupt us.”
Aaron groans when she rolls her hips against his again, and he grasps her waist, his thumbs pressing into the bottom of her ribcage.
“We’re not putting the tree up,” he says, the challenge weak even to his ears, and she leans in, her lips against his ear as she responds.
“We’ll see about that.”
She kisses him fiercely, her tongue sweeping through his mouth as she tightens her hold on his head, her nails scratching at his scalp. He groans and his hands slip to her hips, holding them tightly as he pulls her closer. He pushes his hips up into hers and she whimpers at the feeling of him half hard under her. She only pulls away when she needs to, sucking in a breath before she sinks her teeth into his lower lip, tugging at it before she lets it go.
“Let me convince you,” she says, kissing him quickly before she shifts back in his lap, her fingers reaching for his shirt. She unbuttons his shirt, kissing and nipping at his skin as she reveals it, paying close attention to his scars like she always did. It was something they’d done for each other since the beginning, lips and fingers delicately pressed against the raised skin. Neither of them ever forgetting to worship the other where they’d been stitched back together, proof of what they’d survived to make it to each other.
She gets out of his lap and kneels in front of the loveseat, her hands reaching for his belt buckle and she looks up at him as she undoes it and his pants. He lifts his hips just long enough for her to pull his pants and boxers. She kneels in between his legs and takes his cock in her hand and clenches her thighs together, desperate for some friction, at the punched out groan that escapes him the moment she touches his heated skin.
“Fuck, Em,” he grunts, his eyes fixed on her as she leans forward, maintaining eye contact with him as she licks the tip of him, a smile flashing across her face as his hips twitch towards her face.
“Impatient,” she teases, slowly pumping him up and down, her breath skipping over him, her smile turning into a smirk as he all but growls at her.
“Sweetheart-”
He’s cut off as she takes him in her mouth, his words lost to a moan as he feels himself hit the back of her throat, the sound of her gagging sparking a fire in his gut. He pushes his fingers through her hair, tightening them in the strands as she bobs up and down, using her mouth and hands in tandem.
“Fuck, baby,” he says, “You’re so fucking good at that.” He says, and the praise makes her stomach flip, forcing her to once again press her thighs together. She takes him as far down her throat as she can, only spurred on as she chokes around him and he thrusts up into her mouth. He feels a familiar tug in his gut, and he stops her, gently tugging at her hair, smiling as she lifts her head and looks at him with a dazed look in her eyes, a line of spit trailing from her lower lip to his tip.
He cups her chin and encourages her upwards, steadying her on her feet as he pulls her in to kiss him, groaning as he tastes himself on her lips. When he breaks the kiss he smiles at her.
“Take your clothes off and get on the bed,” he says, his voice low and raspy. She follows his instructions without really thinking about it, shedding her clothes with little fanfare as she watches him finish the job she’d started by taking off his clothes.
He’s on her the second she’s on the bed, pressing her into the mattress by laying on top of her, finding his place in the cradle of her hips. She groans as he kisses down her chest, his touch turning gentle as he skates over her breasts, well aware that was his youngest son’s domain for now. He licks along the length of the scar beneath her ribcage, mapping out each line of it from where he’d memorised it long ago. The topography of her body his favourite thing, each hill and valley of her skin somewhere he could happily get lost in. Since she’d had Issac he’d taken the opportunity to learn the ways her body had changed, every part of her infinitely more beautiful to him now she’d carried their son and kept him safe.
She’s squirming beneath him by the time he reaches her thighs, his hands surprisingly gentle as he pushes them apart. He feels pride swell in his chest at how wet she is already, how she glistens in the light of their bedroom, and he breathes her in.
“So wet for me already, sweetheart,” he says, nipping the top of her thigh with his teeth before soothing it with a kiss, smiling when she bucks her hips, “I’ve barely touched you,” he says, turning his head to her other thigh and giving it the same treatment, “You like being on your knees for me, don’t you?”
She whimpers at his words, her heels finding their place on his shoulders, digging in as a silent form of warning, “Please.”
As much as he enjoyed teasing her, he knew their time was limited. The baby would be up soon and he didn’t want this to finish before it had really got started.
Aaron leans in and licks through her, his groan at the taste of her matching the one that escapes her at the pleasure that rushes through her. He pushes two thick fingers inside of her, curling them upwards as he does so, smirking against her skin when she rolls her hips just as he hits the right spot.
“Oh god yes,” she says, trying to keep quiet, “Please don’t stop.”
She pushes herself up onto her elbows to look down, to see his face buried in her, the tension in his arm as he moves his fingers in and out of her. The burning in her belly starts to build, crackling through her nerves as it’s ready to ignite. He looks up at her, and as their eyes meet she falls over the edge, the intimacy of it giving her the final shove she needs.
He’s on her in a second, his lips against hers as he captures the moan that escapes her, pushing his tongue into her mouth, sharing the taste of herself with her. It’s only when she comes down from her high that she realises her legs are still over his shoulder. He’s bent in her half, something that a few short months ago she would have thought was a move that was now beyond her, and his cock notches over her sensitive and swollen clit.
“I didn’t know I could still bend that far,” she says breathlessly, smiling when he grins at her, his eyes blown black with desire, “Thought I’d lost that ability around the time my hips got wider.”
“You’re fucking gorgeous,” he grunts, pushing forward so he enters her, both of them groaning at the familiar stretch, “You’re fucking perfect.”
She clenches around him, the angle, the fact she’d barely come down from her last orgasm, making everything seem more sensitive, closer than it usually did. He stills his hips, clearly trying to give her a moment, but she doesn’t need or want it.
All she needs is him.
“Move,” she insists, purposely clenching around him, the breath knocked out of her as he does so involuntarily, “Please move.”
He never could say no to her, not really, so he does as he’s asked, his rhythm unforgiving as he thrusts in and out of her. She grasps his back, her hips matching the rhythm he has set, one she was as familiar with as she was with every inch of his body. Even back when they did this for the first time there had been a sense of familiarity about it, something that felt like coming home.
She eventually feels the spark in her belly again, and she can tell he’s close too, his hips slowly becoming more sporadic.
“I’m going to come,” she says, clenching around him again, “I’m so fucking close.”
“Me too, baby,” he replies, burying his face in her shoulder, his hand drifting down to her clit to draw soft but concise circles over her, “Let me feel it.”
She comes, her teeth sinking into his neck to stop herself from screaming, and it triggers his orgasm, the feel of him coming deep inside of her making her sigh. They lay there for a moment before he pushes himself up on his hands, his palms on either side of her head before he leans down to kiss her. He sits up just enough that her legs slip off his shoulders, slumping against the bed in a way that made her feel as light as a feather and as if she was made of lead at the same time. She pats his chest as he lays back down next to her, still desperately trying to suck air back into her lungs. He kisses her cheek and then turns her head just enough to kiss him. She smiles as she pulls back, her hand on his cheek.
“Okay,” he says one of his hands trailing down her side, smiling as she shivers, “We can put the tree up.”
She chuckles as she kisses him softly, a gentle press of her lips against his, “I always win, why do you even fight it?”
He shrugs, “Why would I when we have so much fun along the way?” He says, and she shakes her head at him as he waggles his eyebrows at her, and she presses her thumb into his lower lip, feeling the familiar plushness.
“You better not have gotten me pregnant this year,” she jokes, well aware it wasn’t a possibility, that she was on her birth control and they weren’t actively trying like they had been last year, “We barely sleep as it is.”
Aaron laughs and shakes his head at her, “No one can ever know Issac is the product of last year's Christmas tree debate.”
She smiles as he kisses her thumb, but her response is cut off by a cry from down the hall, “Speaking of Santa’s little helper,” she quips, “He’s done with his nap.”
“I’ll get him,” Aaron says, stamping one last kiss to her lips before he stands up and walks over to his dresser to get a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt.
“Good,” she replies, resting on her elbows to look at him, throwing him a wink from where she was still lying on the bed, “Because my legs still aren’t working.”
___
They have the team over for Thanksgiving.
Everyone took turns hosting, even though Dave did most of the cooking every year, and this time it was decided it made the most sense for everyone to come to their house since they had the youngest kid.
Emily smiles as she glances over at Aaron, Issac in his arms and Jack excitedly talking to his father and Dave, before she walks over to join JJ, Derek and Spencer who are all standing around the tree. Derek smiles curiously at her as she stands next to him.
“How did you convince Hotch to put up the tree, Princess?” He asks, his eyebrows furrowing slightly as he looks back at it, “I thought he used to have a strict ‘not before December’ rule when it came to decorations.”
JJ chuckles, cutting Emily off before she can reply, “You don’t want to know, Derek,” she says, taking a sip of her wine, “Penelope made the mistake of asking last year and she still hasn’t recovered,” she leans in closer as if they are conspiring, “Plus, Hotch has a hell of a hickey on his neck. Do the math yourself.”
Emily feels her cheeks go red as everyone looks over at her husband, the bruise on his throat not quite covered by his shirt collar.
“Oh, gross,” Derek says, and Emily rolls her eyes.
“Oh come on, Aaron and I are married. We have a baby, it can’t be a surprise we have sex,” she shrugs, looking back over at her husband, smiling as he continues to talk to Dave whilst he bounces Issac in his arms, trying to soothe the slightly cranky baby, “Besides, I know how to get what I want. And what I want is the Christmas tree being put up on November 15th.”
“So this happens…every year?” Spencer asks, the question escaping him before he really thinks it through, and she looks over at him, her eyebrow raised.
“I’m sure I’ll regret asking this question,” she says, “But why do you want to know that?”
“If you always put the tree up on November 15th that means you put it up 53 weeks ago,” Spencer says, and Emily’s eyes go wide as she realises what he’s figuring out, the maths pulling together in his head before she can stop him, “And you were pregnant for 39 weeks and 3 days, and Issac is about to turn 14 weeks old-”
“Okay,” she says, cutting him off with a glare and a raised hand, “That’s enough.”
It’s too late, and she hears JJ laugh and Derek groan in disgust, “Oh God,” he says, scrunching his face up, “You’re telling me that Issac exists because you wanted the Christmas tree to go up in Nov-”
“Please don’t say anything to Aaron,” she says, almost begging. She knows JJ would never say anything, and that Spencer would be too afraid too, but Derek lived to wind her up, solidifying his place as the brother she never had or asked for, “He’ll never have sex with me again if he finds out you know.”
Derek raises an eyebrow at her, “Is that meant to deter me? If you never have sex again I never have to hear about it again.”
“How about if you tell him I’ll kill you and no one will ever know it was me,” she says, narrowing her eyes at him, “We all know I’d get away with it.”
Derek swallows thickly, clearly taking her seriously, and he nods, his silent agreement coming just in time as Aaron walks over and hands Issac to her.
“Someone wants Mommy,” he says, looking back and forth between his wife and their friends as they all go deathly silent as he arrives.
“Hi sweet boy,” Emily says, securing Issac to her chest and turning so he can see the tree, his face lighting up with a smile as he sees the lights. Aaron kisses her forehead and walks away as Dave calls for him, “You like the tree, huh?” She says to Issac, kissing the side of his head.
“Just like his Mom,” Derek adds, hiding his smirk behind his glass as he takes a sip. She looks up at him, her glare firmly back in place.
“Derek I swear to God.”
-x-
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Ask game: Hero of Warriors?!?!!?! 👀
🤗
🍿
Oh, dang, this was from forever ago I didn’t think I’d see an ask for this game ever again. However, this was one that I wasn’t asked about that I really wanted to talk about, so thank you for asking about it!
I’ll talk about it for a bit first, then share a snippet of what I’ve got done, if that’s alright with you.
So, this is a fic I haven’t worked on in months because I kinda got distracted with other ones and haven’t yet had the time to go back to it. For those who have heard of Epic: The Musical (which I’ve come to realize is a lot of people in the LU fandom), the fic is based off of the songs Survive and Remember Them. I haven’t quite gotten to the part where these two songs actually come into play, but I’m extremely close to getting started on where Survive will happen, if that makes sense.
Besides the fact that I got distracted, another reason as to why the fic has been untouched for so long is because I’m unsure as to how much of the song lyrics and such to include in the fic. There are certain lines I know for certain that I will be including, because how could I not?, but I’m not sure if it’s a good idea to have the dialogue be the lyrics word for word, or if it’s better to skip over certain things.
This fic has also somehow managed to branch off into ideas for other fics titled similarly and revolving around the same idea for each Lu character. These ones are still completely unwritten, and I’m not planning on starting them until I get the one for Wars done.
(Okay, that’s a lie. I have, like, a sentence for two written for Legend and one of the others that I can’t remember which one it is, nor do I want to search all my docs at the moment)
Now for the snippet I promised:
“Well, I suppose we can lend a hand or two, what do you guys say?” Warriors turned around, addressing the rest of the Chain who had managed to cut down the surrounding monsters enough for them all to talk.
Wild’s immediate reaction was to run off and charge some nearby Bokoblins that had gotten too close to some of the soldiers. He was soon followed by Wind and Four, the two of them yelling some sort of battle cry as they slashed through any enemy that crossed their path. The rest of them were quick to join the battle, assisting soldiers who appeared to be in need of reinforcements.
After some time, the monster forces seemed to be dwindling, and while it took longer to kill these ones off, — Legend learned the hard way that they had infected blood — they were making more progress than the troops had been making without the Heroes of Courage.
“I think we’ve almost got them all,” said Twilight from across the battlefield. It was hard to hear him properly due to the sound of clashing shields and weapons, but the Rancher was loud enough that it sparked some hope in everyone present, giving them all the more reason to continue fighting until they no longer could.
“Well, that’s good,” breathed Hyrule from somewhere off to the side, treating Legend’s injured arm while still keeping an eye out for any threats coming their way.
Warriors looked around, scanning the area for the rest of his fellow heroes. He caught a glimpse of Wild running through a crowd of ChuChus, slicing them apart with ease, before he lost sight of the Champion. Sky wasn’t too far away from him, using the Master Sword to fight some Moblins from Wild’s world. He didn’t have time to worry about the fact that they were not only battling black-blooded enemies, but also ones from Wild’s era, some of the strongest they’d ever encountered even when not infected. From behind him, he heard Wind’s battle cries once more and came across the sight of his little brother caught in combat with an Aeralfos, the winged creature swooping down on him. That, however, didn’t appear to be a problem for the Sailor seeing how he just jumped out of the way before stabbing it with his sword
That brought the total up to six, seven counting himself. Only two others were left.
I (surprisingly) have a lot more than this written, it just might take a while to get out, but I promise it’ll come eventually
#I had everything up until the snippet typed up this morning and had planned on posting it then#but then I had to leave for school#currently sitting in one of my classes trying to finish this up and get it posted as soon as I can but school internet sucks#So it might have to wait#linked universe#warriors linked universe#lu wars
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↬ pairing/characters: joshua x film major reader, other members may make appearances/be mentioned
↬ genre/aus: heavy fluff, slight angst (finally i know), slight college/university au, established relationship, song au, hurt/comfort
↬ summary: in which joshua just wants his significant other to just be with him, cut off from the world.
↬ rating(s): pg15, nc17 (see warnings)
↬ tw: heavy swearing, slight angst (listen y’all know i can’t not write a bit of angst slkjfjdjf), kinda cheesy and very fluffy, you’ve been warned <3 joshua is an absolute sweetheart wbk, brief mentions of stress (being a uni student is a constant struggle), reader is a bit of a workaholic
↬ wc: 2.9k
↬ note: hello loves! the title of this fic comes from the song ‘disconnected’ by 5sos, which is honestly one of my favorite songs from them (esp after seeing it live in concert recently) even to this day. it’s just so cute and evokes all the emotions in me okay :(( anyways this fic was another spur of the moment idea (are y’all even surprised at this point lmao) and i decided to write for joshua, as i haven’t written anything for him yet (i do have another joshua fic in my drafts rn hehe) also yes this fic will be cheesy, you have been warned <3
joshua eyed the macbook balanced on your lap with utter disdain, wishing he could pry the device from your hands, make you focus on him instead, but he knew his efforts would only be in vain. you had come home from a long day of classes, ranting incessantly about how cruel your professors were for assigning a shit ton of work over the course of three days no less, and he had listened attentively to every word, despite the exhaustation from comeback preparations weighing down on him.
you had given him a quick kiss on the cheek before disappearing into his room to take a quick shower, and had come out fifteen minutes later dressed in loose, black sweatpants and one of his shirts, the latter practically a dress on your small form.
joshua’s heart had squeezed at the sight, for seeing you in his clothes was something he’d never get used to, even after three years of dating. that fluttering feeling quickly dissipated when you plopped down next to him on the living room couch with your macbook in hand.
“you have homework?” he had asked, trying to keeping his voice as casual as possible, and you’d simply let out a noncommittal grunt in response. “my introduction to film studies professor wants a five page analysis on the great gatsby, and it’s due on friday, which means i only have a few days to finish it.”
joshua had bit back a retort, refraining himself from reminding you that it was only monday, for heavens sake, but decided against it. “how long is it going to take you?” your expression had gone soft, and you’d leaned over to press a soft kiss on his cheek. “two or three hours, give or take, i’ll try and finish this paper soon, and then i’m all yours, okay? just give me two or three hours.”
and because joshua knew he couldn’t deny you anything, he’d conceded. so, here he was, trying his absolute hardest to focus on a movie that didn’t really interest him in the first place, silently counting down the hours in his head.
five minutes had turned into ten, ten into fifteen, fifteen into twenty, and so on. time trickled on slowly, and joshua had become utterly convinced that watching paint dry was more entertaining than the movie currently playing on the tv.
he wasn’t even sure what it was about, and nothing about piqued his interest, for all he could think about was you, wearing his t-shirt and balancing that fucking macbook on your lap, eyes practically glued to the screen.
joshua hadn’t really thought of himself as a clingy person, in fact, even the other members thought so, with hoshi pointing out how, ever since he’d started dating you, he’d practically run out of the rehearsal room once the choreographer deemed practice over, eager to get home to you.
you had taken up permanent residence in the dorms, and the members even had one of their managers make a key for you so that you could head straight there in between or after classes to rest. joshua was surprised that management had been okay with it, among all things.
he and the rest of the members had been extremely busy with comeback preparations, and the past few weeks had a whirlwind of activity, with arduous dance practices, album photoshoots, recording sessions in woozi’s personal studio, and so on.
the group finally had a few days off from comeback preparations, and joshua was determined to spend all of them with you, watching those cheesy romance films you loved and maybe spending all day in bed. alas, none of that had actually come true, for you were extremely busy with school, constantly working on assignments or projects, and joshua had spent most nights sleeping alone.
your side of the bed was constantly empty, and joshua knew you were staying up at ungodly hours at night, curled up on the couch, working on another assignment that probably wasn’t due for another few weeks. he wished he could pull you away from work, even for a second, but knowing your stubborn nature, it would take a lot for you to take a break.
joshua tried not to pout like a child who’d just been told they couldn’t have ice cream for breakfast. he was a twenty seven year old man, for fucks sake, and pouting because his girlfriend wouldn’t pay attention to him was not good for his character, and if the members found out, they’d tease him relentlessly for weeks.
“are you almost done?” he found himself saying, mentally patting himself on the back for keeping his voice neutral as possible, “sort of, i finished the introduction and maybe, erm, half of the analysis? i’ve written..two pages so far.” you mumbled, and joshua felt his heart sink into his chest.
“oh.” was all he managed to say, and went back to pretending to watch his movie, resisting the urge to scream in frustration. a long stretch of silence settled between them, and joshua wracked his mind for something to say, anything to break the awkward atmosphere.
another long beat of silence, and then, “are you mad at me?” your voice was impossibly soft, and joshua knew you well enough to note the nervousness laced within your tone. at that, his head whipped towards you, heart aching at the unsure, almost fearful look on your face, tension lining your shoulders.
“no, love, of course not, you’ve done nothing wrong.” he reassured, and nearly sighed in relief when the tension in your shoulders loosened, ever so slightly. “then why did you sound so… upset earlier?” “i did?” you nodded, fidgeting with the hem of his shirt.
“y-yeah, a bit, i don’t think you realized though.” “i’m not upset, darling, just a bit… sad, i guess.” “sad? why? did something happen while you and the guys were preparing for the comeback?” you asked, concern furrowing your brow, and joshua felt a small smile tug at the corners of his mouth.
“no, nothing happened, don’t worry, the guys are fine, just resting from the crazy schedule we’ve had these last few weeks.” “oh, thank god, i thought something happened. then, why are you sad?” joshua hesitated, wondering if you would laugh in his face for admitting that he had felt lonely these past few days because you’d been so focused on work and not him.
stop overthinking everything, you idiot, this is y/n. she’s not going to laugh at you or think you’re pathetic. well, here goes nothing. “this is going to sound pathetic of me, but you’ve been so focused on work these past few days and.. i don’t know, this is the longest break i’ve had during comeback preparations that management has given us in a long time, and i guess i thought we could spend them together. but you were so determined to get your work done, and i didn’t want to bother you.”
joshua tried to keep his voice as cheerful as possible, but the small crack in his voice at the end betrayed him, and he felt color rise to his cheeks in embarrassment. to his relief, you didn’t laugh in his face or call him pathetic.
instead, you were looking at him with guilt written all over your face, dark eyes glinting with unshed tears, and joshua felt as if he’d been punched in the gut. “why didn’t you tell me?” you asked, and you sounded so hurt, so devastated, that he immediately wished he could take his words from earlier back.
“i didn’t want to bother you”, he replied softly, voice ever so gentle, as if he were afraid of scaring you off. “you’re never a bother! i’m the one who shouldn’t be bothering you. you’re an idol for fucks sake, you’re constantly rehearsing and preparing to put out an album and perform on stage for thousands and thousands of people, and i’m just a struggling university student who’s constantly complaining about something trivial like shitty professors-” joshua cut you off by pressing a soft kiss to your mouth.
“i could say the same about you, you’re never a bother to me either. and yes, i do prepare to perform for tons of people, and while it’s a lot different from being a student, you shouldn’t think of yourself that way, it breaks my heart. never think just because you’re a university student, it doesn’t make your worries or stress any less significant or important. and shitty professors isn’t a trivial matter. they can either make or break your overall experience, and i’m sorry that they’ve been throwing all these things at you. but i know you. you can get through it, and if you ever need me, i’ll be here.”
you were a sobbing mess at this point, and joshua gently pried the laptop from your hands and set it on the coffee table. “now come here.” he whispered, opening his arms ever so slightly, and you threw yourself into them, body wracking with uncontrollable sobs, burying your face in the crook of his shoulder.
joshua held you flush against him, wrapping his arms around your body and rubbing comforting circles on your back, murmuring reassuring words under his breath. your soft sobs filled the room, and he swore he felt his heart cleave in two at how utterly shattered you sounded.
after your tears had subsided, joshua pulled back enough to tuck a stray piece of hair behind your ear, caressing your cheek with the pad of his thumb. “i know this is a long shot, but would you be willing to spend the rest of the night with me? that is, no movies, no music, and definitely no five page papers. you can work all you want tomorrow, but i think maybe taking a break will benefit you.”
your shoulders slumped in defeat, and joshua couldn’t help but smile fondly at the exasperated huff you let out as you gazed longingly at your macbook. “fine, but only because i can’t say no to you.” you murmured begrudgingly. joshua let out a soft, amused chuckle, leaning down to press a soft kiss atop your head. “likewise.”
“do you mind if i put your laptop in my room? just so that you’re not distracted by it?” you shook your head. “go ahead, i don’t really want to write that fucking paper right now. my brain is fried.” joshua chuckled, reaching out and ruffling your hair affectionately. “ok, i’ll be back.”
he took the laptop off the table and headed towards his room, humming softly to himself. when he opened the door, jeonghan was sprawled out on his bed, scrolling idly through his phone. he looked up when joshua entered. “i thought you were spending time with y/n. having a lover’s quarrel?” jeonghan asked, the corners of his mouth curving into a mischievous smile, and joshua rolled his eyes, used to the former’s cheekiness.
“very funny. no, we are not having a lover’s quarrel.” jeonghan sighed, shaking his head in mock disappointment. “shame, i thought something interesting was finally happening around here.” joshua snorted. “yeah, like the one time you and dokyeom went live at the same time and you practically begged carats to watch you instead of him?”
jeonghan gave an elegant shrug, unfazed. “it’s not my fault i’m so lovable.” joshua fought the urge to throw a pillow at his friend’s head. “whatever helps you sleep at night.” he grumbled, placing your laptop on his bed before promptly exiting the room, shutting the door gently behind him.
joshua found you right where he left you, curled up on the couch, except now, you were hugging a pillow to your chest, seemingly lost in thought. the sight made his heart ache and warm all the same. he gently kissed the top of your head as he plopped down unceremoniously next to you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders.
“penny for your thoughts?” he teased, which earned him a half-hearted glare. “what are you so lost in thought about, love?” he saw your cheeks heat at the way the endearment slipped easily off his tongue due to years of use, and fought the urge to coo at the sight.
“nothing, just thinking about how i could’ve spent time you with you these past few days, you know, instead of brushing you off and doing work instead.”
joshua shushed you, pulling you closer into his side. “it’s okay, i also was a little embarrassed. i mean, i didn’t want to come off as clingy.” that earned him a soft smack on the chest. “you are not clingy.” “tell that to hoshi, he thinks i’m utterly besotted, his words, not mine.”
you glanced up at him, a teasing glint in your eyes. “well, you are, aren’t you?” joshua rolled his eyes half-heartedly. “sure, whatever helps you sleep at night, love.” you scrunched your nose at joshua in mock disgust, and he let out a soft chortle of amusement.
a comfortable silence settled in the air, and you let out a soft sigh of contentment, resting your head on joshua’s shoulder, and he smiled, carding a hand gently through your hair, the strands like silk against his skin. joshua adored moments like these, when it was just you and him, and he could temporarily forget about any and all his worries.
and even if the others teased him for being so besotted, then so be it. after all, joshua was used to their teasing, had been for eight years and counting. you were the first to break the silence, clearing your throat awkwardly. “not to sound like a broken record, but i really do feel guilty for completely ignoring you these past few days. if i had known you had-”
“love,” joshua began, cutting you off gently but firmly, “like i said before, you have nothing to apologize for. your work was important, and i would’ve distracted you.” you let out a small sigh, small shoulders slumping in defeat. “still, you could’ve at least tried to take my laptop away. or something,”
joshua rolled his eyes half-heartedly. “i love you, but we both know that you would likely hiss at me if i did.” color rose to your cheeks. “n-not true.” “sure, love.” you wrinkled your nose at him in mock disgust, and joshua couldn’t help but press a gentle kiss atop your head.
you mumbled something incoherent under your breath, but said nothing further, instead settling back into joshua’s embrace, and he allowed himself a small smile as you let your eyes flutter shut, letting out a small yawn. “tired?” he whispered, carding his hands through your soft hair, and you managed a small nod.
“sleep, then, love. i’ll be here when you wake up.” at that ,color rose to your cheeks, and joshua bit back an amused laugh, knowing you were likely to scold him for it, and leaned back against the soft cushions of the couch, relishing in the comfortable silence that settled around the room.
it was moments like these that joshua treasured the most, when there was nothing but you and him, just enjoying each other’s company. with you, he could let all his worries melt away, forget about concerts and comebacks, and just be himself.
and, as much as you and him loved spending time with the other members, it was often loud and chaotic, and joshua needed the peace and quiet every now and then. he let out a content sigh, and felt exhaustation take over, and soon, his eyes fluttered shut and he entered dreamland, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.
a/n: no bc wtf was that ending oh my god anyways this was my first shua fic, and i hope you all liked this regardless of how terrible it is lmao also i started school again :’) if you have also started school, i hope it’s going well <3 ! (i cannot believe i’m a junior in college now wtf) also i turn 21 in like a week so there’s that lsdkfjldjf and since school is starting again, i might not have a ton of time to post fics:(( but i will still try to <3 also seungkwan is back:(( i saw the pics and videos from the concert in japan and my heart is happy:(( also scoups was there :((( i hope he recovers soon and quickly <3 wishing him all the best <3333
tagging: @hong-jisoo , @drmflm, @playmetheclassics, and anyone else who wants to read this <333
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Hey lovely❤️❤️ Just popping in with a spring fic request.
Was thinking maybe our handsome boy Jesse with the prompt "You're cute when you try not to blush"
You can totally change it if you want to tho, I'll be happy with anything Jesse you write because I already know it's gonna be beautiful.
Hope you have fun writing this and enjoy your wine, you deserve it!! Love u babe <3
🥺 you are the sweetest! i did change the prompt a little (all of my fics are written as race-neutral so a blushing reader is something i’ll never do), and i've been looking for an excuse to write this fic for a while so i hope you enjoy it!!
words: 910
summary: you're the general of the coruscant guard, and a certain arc trooper keeps finding ways to get arrested to see you.
clone troopers masterlist
Heart Eyes in the Holding Cell
The first time you met Jesse, him and another ARC trooper had been taken in by one of your commanders for speeder racing outside of 79’s. It wasn’t a serious offense, and you understood the need for some soldiers to let loose in slightly unconventional ways given all that they had seen during the war, but Thorn had still brought them in as a little joke (if you had to guess why, it was because they sassed him a little upon getting caught).
“I didn’t know the Coruscant Guard employed such pretty attendants,” one of the troopers said as you stepped into the room with the holding cell. You took in his blissed-out appearance, clearly still tipsy from the liquor he had consumed that night. The number 5 tattooed on his forehead (combined with your knowledge of your best friend’s battalion) told you exactly who this trooper was.
“Technically they don’t,” you said, shifting your body so that he could see the lightsaber strapped to your hip. Your outfit was slightly fancier than usual, given the fact that you had just gotten back from a Senate function, where you served as a voice for the Jedi Council and security for Senator Amidala. “I’m in charge.”
The first trooper’s eyes widened, and the other trooper with him started laughing so hard he was practically crying. “Nice going,” he managed to wheeze out, his head shaking. “Flirting with a general, that’ll get us out of here Fives.”
“Shut up Jesse!”
You just laughed at their antics, crossing your arms. “Actually, we’ve decided to let you go,” you said. Technically you weren’t supposed to let them go until the proper reports were filed or their commanding officer came to pick them up (bureaucracy was a nightmare), but you weren’t above a light joke here and there.
“Really?” Fives looked like you had just told him that he’d been elected chancellor.
“Once your commanding officer comes to pick you up, sure.”
Both Fives and Jesse deflated. “Really, you can’t just open the door right now?”
“Fox has already called Captain Rex, he’ll be here shortly,” you said. “We’re not going to charge you, but you can’t just go joyriding any time you want to.”
At the news that they weren’t going to be in any real trouble, the two troopers relaxed. You ended up staying and talking to them until Rex came to pick them up, and you couldn’t help the way you were drawn to Jesse.
As you waved goodbye to them, you had to try and push some very un-Jedi like thoughts out of your brain.
***
“General!” Every clone’s voice was supposed to be same, but you knew exactly which trooper this voice belonged to. “Fancy seeing you here!”
“Jesse, don’t tell me you’ve been arrested again.” Your utter bewilderment at the amount of times that he had ended up in your holding cell was only beat out by the confusion you held about the smile on his face. Ever since you had met him and Fives all that time ago, he ended up in custody at least once for every time the 501st was on leave.
“Nah, like I told you last time, I just break into the holding cell for fun.”
You sighed. “What was it this time?”
He smiled harder. “Does it really matter, mesh’la?”
Oh, his words should not have had an effect on you. Trying to keep your composure, you raised an eyebrow at him. “I think it does.”
“Racing again,” he said, managing to somehow look proud of that fact that he had gotten caught.
“I think I’m going to tell Rex to put you on a leash whenever you all to go the bar or something,” you joked.
“Why, you don’t want to see me?”
“Oh, are you taking lessons from Fives now? Trying to flirt with the General to get out of jail?”
“Maybe. You’re cute when you try not to smile, you know that?”
Clearly he wasn’t going to give up (and maybe you didn’t want him to), so you decided to try a different approach. “And you’d be cute too if you didn’t stop getting arrested so much. If you wanted to see me, you could have just stopped by and said hello.”
For all the times he had flirted with you before, Jesse seemed lost for words when you finally started to flirt back. The smile on your face was wider now, as you took in the confused expression he wore.
And to confuse him a little bit more, you unlocked the holding cell. “Come on,” you said. “If you promise not to get arrested again, I’ll take you out to dinner.”
Jesse looked stunned. “But- you’re a-”
You just laughed. “If your general can be married to a senator, I think I can let one date slide.”
He regained his cool with in an impressive amount of time, right as you two were approaching the front door to headquarters. “Why do you think it’s just going to be one date?”
“I don’t know, I guess you’ll just have to impress me.”
Right before he stepped outside into the night air, he leaned in and placed a soft kiss on your cheek. “Don’t worry cyar’ika, I plan on it.” And with that, the door opened and he walked away from the building.
You couldn’t stop thinking about him for the rest of the night. He was bold, and you liked that.
- the end -
#2023 spring ficlets 🐝#arc trooper jesse#arc trooper jesse x reader#arc trooper jesse x you#jesse x reader#clone trooper jesse#clone wars fanfiction#clone trooper x reader#star wars x reader
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Twenty Questions for Fic Writers
Thank you so much for the tags @maesterchill @basicallyahedgehog and @tackytigerfic, I loved reading your answers (here and here and here). I feel like an imposter filling this out (I just started publishing fics in August!) but here we go! Answers below the cut
How many works do you have on ao3?
3
2. what's your total ao3 word count?
~42K
3. What fandoms do you write for?
Harry Potter, specifically drarry (with one guest appearance by a very sad, sexy Sirius).
4.. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?
The most kudos-ed is The Roommates*, which is a Sirius/Draco + Drarry endgame little piece of filth. My Suds fic, Löyly, has the second most kudos, followed by the rowing AU WIP, Our Objective Remains Unchanged. (*PS fellow americans who probably already know this: roommates does not have quite the same meaning in the UK as it does in the US, oops!)
5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?
I do! I am so honored by every comment I have gotten. I also love leaving comments, though I never do so with the expectation of a response. I think comments are such a lovely way to extend the joy of the fic as a reader. If a writer wants to respond I love it, if not, that doesn't detract from the joy of commenting!
6. What is a fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?
Nothing yet, I really love an unhappy/ambiguous ending so I hope I can write more of that in the future.
7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?
Only two of my published fics HAVE endings... but Löyly is probably the softest, though I actually think the ending of Roommates is quite sweet.
8. Do you get hate on fics?
Not yet :)
9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?
So far everything I've written is rated E. I surprised myself with 3 E fics right out the gate. I get very stressed that my smut is corny. In my two shorter fics the sex is very much driving the plot—non-explicit versions would be inherently different stories. In OORU I think it's more about the ways the characters do and don’t understand each other, and how that manifests in all their interactions, physical and otherwise, which didn’t need to be E-rated to work, but that’s how I ended up writing it.
10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?
I haven't yet. I can't think of anything I would want to write as a crossover but never say never.
11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?
no
12. Have you ever had a fic translated?
no
13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?
Not yet! Another thing that seems like a cool challenge. I could see myself enjoying co-writing a lot (I love talking about fics/ideas with people), but I also am so self-conscious about my own writing that I feel like it would be very hard for me to overcome those insecurities enough to write with someone else.
14. What's your all-time favorite ship?
Drarry forever. Enemies to lovers will always be my favorite dynamic, so I came into Drarry jazzed about the ship, but the creativity of this fandom, the talent of the authors, and the fact that I have read so many iterations of this pairing and still am consistently astounded by the complexity and originality of these fics -- what else could compare?
15. What's a wip you want to finish, but doubt you ever will?
The first thing I started writing in this iteration of my fandom life was a time travel fic where Harry is a disillusioned, socially-scorned ministry underling and he and Draco have to work together to stop an apocalypse that they learn about from a time traveler from the future. I have like 20K written and a bunch of it that I really like, but I just don't know if I'll ever have the motivation to return to it. It needs to be quite plotty and I struggle with that.
16. What are your writing strengths?
I find writing dialogue comes more easily.
17. What are your writing weaknesses?
When I read I don't really visualize what I'm reading, it's more like I really feel the emotions of the writing. When there's a particularly beautiful descriptive passage in writing I really appreciate that, but more for the craft of the sentence. Because that's how I read, I tend to skip illustrative prose in my own writing, and I think that is a pretty glaring weakness. I am trying to work on it! And then also plot. PLOT.
18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?
I haven't done much of it -- Draco quotes a few Finnish words in Löyly, but he's not meant to be fluent (so perhaps he’s not even getting the words right) and there's either context to make clear what he's trying to say or it doesn’t matter if he’s understood (because Harry is so horny that he can’t even hear). I think it's very fun when writers play with polyglotism (?) in fics, though I also think it's quite challenging to do! I also love when things are hidden from the characters/reader in fic and language can be a good way to do that.
19. First fandom you wrote for?
I honestly don't know -- I wrote a lot of "fic" for myself as a kid that I never even put on the internet. My old fanfiction.net account of stuff I actually published is still up and I could't take it down if I wanted to, so that's... out there.
20. Favorite fic you've written?
Not to cheat but I really think I haven't written it yet. I love all my fics, and each of them was a very different and rewarding experience to write, but I do feel l haven't yet written a fic that, as tacky said in their post, is exactly the fic I wanted it to be. Here's hoping that happens!
Tagging @nv-md @sweet-s0rr0w @wolfpants @thehoneybeet @mintawasalreadytaken @kittycargo and anyone else who hasn’t done this yet!
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Plot: Cyrus has returned from the shadow realm to find he has been gone for a year, and the one person he wants to see is Mal.
Notes: It’s kinda short, but oh well, I still like it, and I hope you enjoy. I haven’t written any choices fics in ages.
Cyrus was sitting in bed—the bed of the room he had slept in only a few short weeks ago. At least for him, it had only been a few weeks, but not for his friends, Kade, or Mal.
When Kade had told him it had been a year, Cyrus hadn’t known what to say, and he hated to admit it, but he had snapped and yelled at his brother even though he already knew that time between the realms did not move at the same speed.
He had been struck with the sudden weight of time and a horror at the fact he had missed out on so much, and for him, it had been in the blink of an eye. For him, it had been a few days at most; he really wasn’t sure. He had woken up alone and in pain; he had simply assumed the extent of his time on the shadow realm, but with a year passing at home, he was left to wonder if perhaps he had been out longer than he thought.
His hands clenched on the bedsheets below him, and a shaky sigh fell from his parted lips. He didn’t exactly feel at ease right now; he’d just escaped imprisonment and the threat of death. It was hard to calm down after that, especially when he had yet to see his friends.
Kade had assured him that they would arrive to see him soon; both Nia and Mal were close and only needed to be informed of his return. Tyril and Imtura were easy to contact, but they had not stayed in the white tower, so he wouldn’t see either of them for at least a day or two.
The wait was agonizing.
Kade stayed with him as long as possible, but it seemed his brother was no longer just a boy from some small town with nothing better to do than hang out with his brother; no, he was an important figure in the White Tower, and Cyrus hadn’t wanted to keep him from his duties.
Besides, Nia or Mal would arrive soon, and then everything would be better again.
He fell back against the bed with a groan and a wince, his whole body aching from the rough treatment in the shadow realm. He wanted nothing more than to fall asleep in the arms of one of his friends, or Mal’s. He would like to have Mal with him.
As if his thoughts were read, he heard the door open, and at first he sighed, thinking it was Kade coming to fuss over him instead of working like Cyrus had planned for him to do, but when he turned toward the door, he froze in shock at what he saw.
It was Mal, but not Mal like Cyrus remembered him, not the Mal that Cyrus had left behind only a few days before; he looked older, worn down, and his hair was short. It had been cut down to a neat length, trimmed, and kept perfectly even, so different from his prior appearance that Cyrus wasn’t sure what to say.
"You cut your hair," he finally blurted out, as if this wasn’t the first time Mal had seen him in a year.
He would have liked to be more eloquent, to wax poetry, and to apologize for leaving him for a whole year, but he couldn’t think of anything that sounded good enough.
"I can grow it back," Mal said, and that was one thing that hadn’t changed in a year: his voice was still the same, still helplessly soft, a tone that Cyrus had come to realize the man had only ever used on him.
Cyrus had shakily stood from the bed and taken a step toward Mal, who seemed frozen in the doorway, staring at Cyrus like he doubted his existence, which wasn’t surprising. "It’s really been a year?" He whispered, taking another small step forward, holding himself back from launching himself into Mal’s arms because he thought the man might collapse if he did that.
He was only a few feet away now, close enough to reach out and touch if he wanted, and God did he want to, but some traitorous part of him was worried that Mal might be angry at him, that he’d be upset at Cyrus for being gone so long. It was a ridiculous, horrible thought, but he had it anyway.
"One year, two months, and four days," Mal said, his voice cracking in a way that Cyrus hadn’t heard before, and it was that that finally broke him from his thoughts and got him to reach out.
He threw himself into Mal’s arms, which closed around him immediately, holding him so tightly that the breath was squeezed from his lungs, but he didn’t dare protest; he couldn't; he didn’t want to be released; he wanted to stay like this until the sun went down, until the world stopped spinning.
"I’m sorry, Mal, I’m so sorry," he whispered, his hand sliding up to tangle into Mal’s hair. There was less to grab now, but he still managed it, gently tugging on the short strands. He’d done the same thing before, when they had held each other, but this felt so different; it was desperate and needy; it was the built-up emotions of a year apart.
Mal swore softly and began to walk them back into the bedroom, using the hem of his foot to kick the door closed as they went, his hands never leaving Cyrus, just running up and down his body as if searching for injury.
"Don’t fucking say that; don’t apologize, you idiot." Mal cursed again, but the hoarse sound of his voice was enough to make Cyrus’ eyes well with tears. He couldn’t imagine what Mal must have felt over the long year apart; had he looked for Cyrus? Had he given up hope and resigned himself to never seeing him again? Had he accepted Cyrus as dead and moved on? It was unimaginable.
The back of Cyrus’ knees came into contact with the bed, and in a moment they were falling back onto the soft mattress. Mal was on top of him, still holding him tightly, as if Cyrus would disappear if he dared loosen his grip.
"You’re alive," Mal whispered, the words pressing into Cyrus’ skin, warming him like the heat of the sun.
Finally, Mal lifted his head, his dark eyes meeting Cyrus’ own as he reached out to cup Cyrus’ cheek in his hand, which was still rough and worn down from work, calluses marring the tanned skin the same way they always had.
Slowly, Mal’s thumb brushed beneath his eyes, smoothing over a pale bruise that colored a small section of Cyrus’ cheekbone. "You came back to me."
Cyrus let out a shaky laugh and nodded his head, reaching up to place his hand over Mal’s, shifting the man’s hold so he could press a kiss to his lover's fingertips. It was a gentle touch because he thought that was all he could manage at the moment, but Mal still drew in a sharp breath, as if Cyrus had blessed him with something holy, as if he had granted him salvation.
It was the kind of sound that made Cyrus’ world shift.
"You would have come back to me," he whispered, and there was not a shred of doubt in his tone. He was sure that if Mal had been the one taken, he would have found a way back to Cyrus.
Mal’s jaw clenched, and he briefly screwed his eyes shut, clearly fighting off tears. Even after all this time, he was still reluctant to cry, and Cyrus wondered how much his supposed death had furthered that fear of emotion.
"I would’ve crawled my way back to you, Cyrus; no goddamn shadow would stop me," he said, his brown eyes flying open. There were shining tears clinging to his lashes, and when he blinked, they finally fell, streaking down his cheeks and catching in the scruff of his beard.
It was a beautiful sight. Maybe it shouldn’t have been, but Cyrus couldn’t look away; he just gently wiped away a tear drop, his lips parted in a soft gasp, and his own eyes blurred with tears.
The next moment, Mal’s lips were on his.
It wasn’t like their previous kisses; all of those had been soft, if not a bit messy, but this one was sudden and desperate; it was the touch of a man who’d been waiting for a year to touch, who’d waited so long to feel the way Cyrus’ back arched under his hands, who’d waited a year to taste his tears, to feel the burn of pain as his lips were bitten.
He’d been starving for a year, and finally he’d been blessed with sustenance, and he was taking his fill lest it be stolen from him again.
#playchoices#choices#play choices#mine#pb#bolas#blades of light and shadow 2#mal valori#mal x mc#my writing#writing#fanfiction#male!mc#mc x mal#choices fanfic#playchoices fanfic#mal volari fanfic#mal volari x mc
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Francesca
a/n: why does this song work so well with a trade fic? and since it was a request for Beau, everything just fell perfectly into place. (also, this is Hozier’s most romantic song to date. I don’t make the rules, that’s just the truth.) word count: 1.5k warnings: angst, right person wrong time, bittersweet ending. gender neutral reader!
Now that it’s done, there’s not one thing that I would change.
It still didn’t feel real.
You had seen the news, saw the headline break hours ago. But it still didn’t feel like the truth. Anthony couldn’t be traded.
He couldn’t be leaving you. Not like this.
And as soon as that thought flits through your mind for the hundredth time today, it is once again followed by that chiding voice calling your reaction dramatic.
He wasn’t leaving you¸ he was leaving New York. And it was ridiculous and egotistical to think that you were the most important and heartbreaking thing that he would leave behind. Because what did the two of you share?
Nothing.
Anthony was your friend; nothing less but also nothing more. Sure, there were times that the two of you tiptoed along the invisible line of becoming something more than friends, a line that you both were too scared to cross. But neither of you ever took the leap.
And now… he was leaving.
And all the things that you thought about saying to him, all the speeches that you had written in your mind on lonely midnights, were rotting in your heart as the hours past.
You could call him, text him, even run to him and have the words spill out of your mouth. But you had never been good at being brave. It was always easier to let life run its course.
Which is why you were still here in your apartment, letting the minutes of the clock tick by.
Until its steady rhythm is interrupted by a soft knock on your door.
Your head turns towards the noise and then the clock on the wall, wondering who could possibly be on your doorstep at 11pm. The knock sounds again and you unfurl yourself from the sofa and wander to your front door, not even bothering to look before swinging open the heavy wood, the cold winter breeze entering your apartment.
The wind could be blamed for the goosebumps that appeared on your arms. But your reaction could easily be traced to the ice blue eyes that connected with yours.
“Anthony?”
His name escapes your chest in a sigh – a sigh mixed with confusion and relief. He was here.
In a blur of motion you don’t fully register, Anthony steps over the threshold, closing the door with his foot as his hands lift to cup your jaw.
And then he is kissing you.
Your own hands fly up to grip his wrists but you don’t push him away. The movement was more so to steady yourself as you feel his soft lips on yours.
But right before you get used to the feeling and fully register the fact that Anthony is kissing you, he pulls away, his hands dropping and you release your hands as well.
The two of you stand there in silence: you still stunned and confused – Anthony dazed for a moment until you see a rose blush rise on his cheeks before he speaks.
“I’m sorry, I just –”
You don’t let him utter another syllable before you’re the one reaching out to him, hands grabbing his face as you pull his lips back to yours. Anthony takes your desperation in stride, matching it and kissing your deeper than before, his hands pulling you closer as the two of you blindly stumble further into your apartment.
A gasp escapes you as Anthony’s body descends to sit on the couch, his hands pulling you down with him until you are straddling his lap, a brief pause before the kisses continue.
You couldn’t think, could barely breathe. Your senses were just filled with Anthony; the sandalwood of his cologne, the warmth of his body, the taste of his lips.
You felt like flying. You felt like you were falling.
Because he was here.
Because he was leaving.
That remembrance is what finally snaps you back to the reality of this situation – the harsh reality. Your hand falls from his hair to his chest, pushing back and creating a small distance between your bodies. Your eyes connect with his and you can feel your heart ache at the sight of the emotions swimming in his irises.
“What is happening?” you ask, the question not fully formed. A sad smile tugs at the corners of Anthony’s lips as his hand reaches up to your face, the touch of his thumb a whisper over your lips.
“I just wanted to know what it was like to kiss you,” he confesses.
“Why now?”
“You know why.”
Of course you did: the trade. That damnable trade. The unavoidable fact that in less than a week, he would be in another city on the other side of the continent. He would be gone.
“I couldn’t leave you,” Anthony continues, his eyes still locked with yours, soft and earnest. “Not without letting you know how I feel about you. And if I never see you again…”
His voice trails off, plunging the room into silence. But he said enough. His words were enough to plunge the knife that had lodged its way into your heart earlier that day impossibly deeper. He would be gone. And this is what he left you with.
Your eyes close, fighting back tears as you gently shake your head.
“Why?” you ask, the word thick and choked as it leaves your lips.
“Why what?”
“You couldn’t have just left me here without a goodbye?” you explain, opening your eyes and locking them with his once again, the tears welling as you speak. “You had to come here and give me this – this knowledge of what it’s like to have you before you leave my life, maybe for the last time?”
“I never wanted to hurt you,” he whispers.
“You already have.”
This time, the silence that falls over the two of you is heavy, filled with loss and grief. Your gaze moves skyward to push back the teardrops that aren’t dissipating. One ends up escaping, rolling down your cheek. You are about to wipe it away with your sweatshirt sleeve but before you could, you feel Anthony’s hand on the soft skin of you face once more. His thumb brushes the droplet off your cheekbone and you look back to him and find his eyes filled sorrow.
You couldn’t be angry at him. You could never be angry at him. He wasn’t the one to blame.
“I’m sorry,” you speak, breaking the weighted silence. “It’s not your fault. None of this is your fault. I just… I just thought we had more time.”
“We both did,” he replies and you have to laugh. Because there was your Anthony, always shouldering your burdens and anxieties, never letting you feel the full weight of them.
“God, if I knew then what I know now… I wish I could go back and change it all. I would make different choices. Maybe if I did, we wouldn’t end up here.”
Your mind starts to wander, thinking about all the moments where you could have taken that step towards you and Anthony becoming something more, where you could have shared something before this. Perhaps the two of you could have created a foundation that would’ve survived any storm that blew your way.
It’s Anthony’s touch that brings your back to the present this time – the feeling of his calloused fingers intertwining with yours, his hand lifting yours to his mouth, pressing soft kisses against your skin.
“I wouldn’t,” he murmurs, his words slightly muffled by your knuckles. Your head tilts in confusion, staring at Anthony until he glances up towards you. “I wouldn’t change a thing.”
“Why not?”
“Because I had you in this life. And yeah, maybe in another life, we had this sooner. But maybe in another life, we crashed and burned. Or maybe we never even met.”
His hands move again, this time lifting to cup the back of your head, pulling your face closer to his until your foreheads are pressed together. Your eyelids flutter close as you fall into him, the warmth of his body and his breath sinking into you as he speaks again.
“If I had the choice between the comforting certainty of this moment or the daunting uncertainty of every other possible future, I’d do the same thing, make the same mistakes again and again. Because here, at least I got to love you for a moment.”
He moves impossibly closer to you, until your lips are only millimeters away from each other, so close that it is as if he breathes his next words into your lungs:
“That’s better than never loving you at all.”
His words are twinged with a desperation and conviction, begging for you to believe him. But not to make him feel better – not for you to nod and say that he was right.
No, his confession was a prayer sent to you in the hopes that it would give you peace.
And when you close the distance between you once again, kissing him deeply, the hurricane in your mind disappeared.
It was true. Even though you know your heart would break, you’d go through it again, do it all over again.
Because at least you had him.
Even if only for a night.
#nicole writes#put your emptiness to melody series#anthony beauvillier fic#anthony beauvillier imagine#anthony beauvillier angst#pittsburgh penguins fic#pittsburgh penguins imagine#nhl fic#nhl imagine#hockey fic#hockey imagine
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