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waltwhitmansbeard · 1 year ago

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Perc'ahlia Week Day 6: Yours/Later

ahhhhh after this, only one day left of @percahliaweek!!! hope y'all are ready for this one: definitely rated e and not for everyone, if you catch my drift. also available on ao3!

Percy paces the long length of the chamber, back and forth, back and forth. He cleans the lenses of his glasses on the hem of his suit jacket, even though they've been spotless for minutes now. His speech has been circling through his mind since he finished writing it this morning, and now the cacophony of it in his ears makes him miss the approaching footsteps from behind. "You'll wear a whole through the floor, darling, and Whitestone's coffers will not fix a palace."

And just like that, the knots in his back loosen, and he turns to face his wife, who looks devastating in a figure-hugging dress with a high neckline. "I don't suppose you'd like to give the speech for me?"

Vex clucks her tongue impatiently, adjust the lapels of his suit jacket. "Now this is not the man I married. Where is the confidence of the Percy who shot off a teenager's fingers and told him his soul was forfeit?"

He pouts. "Well now you're just being cruel."

"And you're being ridiculous. It's the Council, Percy. You act like half of them aren't over for tea every other week."

"I've never had to make a proposal like this before."

"You're going to be fine. They already know you're a genius. Think of how much better Emon will be once the taller buildings have your lifts installed."

And even though he has undoubtedly done far greater and far more world-changing things in his time, he can't help but feel proud of his latest invention, a mechanical moving platform that can carry people and objects between the floors of buildings. "If they get installed."

"Percival, you weren't this nervous at our wedding! Either of them! Including the one I died in!" And he watches her eyes flick, a sure sign of danger if he knows one. "I know what will clear your mind."

He frowns. "And what might that—hello."

Because she's pushing him, sending him tripping backward as he tries to stay upright, until his back is against the wall of the guest chamber they've been given for their stay here in Emon. He's instantly flustered as she drapes her body along is, all liquid and smoke. Her lips trail up his neck, along his jawline, to whisper in his ear, "Sometimes, that big brain of yours needs to learn how to shut up."

And then she's on her knees.

Percy's head cracks back against the walls as slowly, agonizingly, she unbuttons his trousers, exposing him inch by inch. He can feel it, the surge of blood at what must be alarming speed far, far away from his brain. When she puts her mouth on him, it is teasing, just enough to make his hips jerk, not enough to satisfy the urge boiling up through his chest. Any thoughts of speeches or councils or lifts flutters out of his head like a leaf caught in a breeze; his entire world shrinks down to the size of her lips, which slowly, cruelly slide their way down the length of him.

"Oh gods," he groans, his forearm coming up to cover his face. It takes all of his strength not to cant his hips forward into her mouth and knock her backward, but she's tantalizing him, pulling back just as his breath begins to shorten and his stomach tighten.

"The gods have nothing to do with this," she murmurs, before trailing just the tip of her tongue up the underside of his cock. "No gods, no kings—just me."

"Just you," he pants desperately. The fingers of one hand curl into his hair as the other claw at the side of his thigh. "You're...everything."

She hollows her cheeks out, and his knees almost give out. She pulls off with a pop. "And who are you?" Her hand, fingers perfectly manicured but still callused from years on the bowstring, coax the answer out of him, up and down.

He can barely hear her over the blood rushing in his ears. "Yours. I'm yours."

"That's right."

And then she gets to work. His wife is known throughout all of Tal'dorei for her many exquisite talents, famed now more for her judgement and leadership than anything she ever did with a bow, but Percy can't help but pity all those who will never know how truly exceptional she is at sucking dick. Maybe it was all those years of using her silver tongue to haggle and bargain, because now, as it curls so sinfully around the head of his cock, he can't imagine not giving her everything her heart could ever desire. His fingers itch to weave into her hair, to urge her on, but far be it from him to lecture an expert in her craft—and besides, her hair looks exquisite, and she might just bite his dick off if he ruins it.

His entire body is throbbing, a hot rash of pleasure and want rippling through him like riptide, and all of his thoughts, his anxieties, his fears, his name, they've all been torn out to sea, and he is adrift. Behind his closed lids, phantom light dances as the siren he married lures him farther and farther from shore. It is no time at all before he is panting, gasping, sweating, and then the dancing light explodes, and he is spilling, keening, slumping against the wall, rent asunder and floating.

Vex'ahlia is, of course, a lady, and thus she does not let a single drop escape onto his trousers or her gorgeous dress. He is useless to help as she tucks him away and rebuttons his pants, and he certainly has nothing to give when she gives him the hardest, filthiest kiss he can imagine. When she's done debauching him, she brings her thumb up to wipe away her lipstick. "I think you ought to return the favor, darling."

Before he can say anything, there is a knock at the door. "Lord and Lady de Rolo? They're gathering in the Council chambers."

With a levity that, to Percy, borders on worrisome, Vex calls over her shoulder, "Thank you, dear, we'll be right down!" before turning her gaze back on him. "Later."

He nods fervently. "Later." Anything her heart could ever desire.

And then she's sauntering away, a satisfied swing to her hips, and Percy thoughts have been reduced to a low hum. Vaguely, he's aware that he's supposed to be giving a speech, well, now-ish, but as he stumbles forward after Vex, there is little space left in him for anything resembling anxiety. He shakes himself off and falls into an easy stride, a confident smile on his face. He's got this, because he's got her, and the last thing he's going to do is question the judgement of Lady Vex'ahlia de Rolo.

#this is 100% canon #matt told me personally that percy invented elevators in exandria #and laura told me that vex fucks percy stupid on the reg #percahliaweek #percahliaweek23 #critical role #critical role fic #cr fic #vox machina #vox machina fic #perc'ahlia #perc'ahlia fic #perc'ahlia week #my fic

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starvette · 1 year ago

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T 34/90 fuck I'm not really Kitavan anymo

Hey. The third of July was so stormy I slept like a puppy without a care in the world. Some very good stuff happened. I didn't sleep for a day which messed me the hell up and I was once more can't-lift-my-arm-up exhausted for the next two days. But I want to write now because I have a new action in mind.

I'm going to be standing or walking as much as possible first for the next week and then for another week. Now, since this will be very difficult and change my routines I thought I must blog about it. I will have to finally surrender the incessant reading. I mean I can still read on laptop, it's just more difficult. I guess I'll pretend I became Ali and moved to a horse farm and now run around all day (although you do sit when you ride a horse...) or I became a nurse, or I got a job at H&M, or I became nineteen year old waitress Lana, or went to K-pop idol camp. I realize that living this way indoors at all times might get unbearable so I'm prepared to put on UVmune and head out during the day. Just doing all this for the so far incurable KP. It hasn't budged an inch and it's fucking distressing. I'm most worried that I did this to myself with those failed laser treatments. They may have killed my oil glands. What if I'm like those poor bastards who LASIKd their eyeballs?

Last evening (it's a little past midnight now) I got Haribo strawberries. They were incredible at first, and then whatever. Then I watched Lilja for twelve minutes but it was enough to get me down. People weren't fucking kidding when they said it's a bummer. The candies with tea were meant as my preworkout and, hey, it worked, but Lilja got me scared of jogging at nearly midnight.

What happened with kitavaning? It's a mess. I've been eating sweets or fruit and then running or at least biking or dancing soon after. That would be fine as I indeed get energized and don't bloat, but still it's been fucking hard to coordinate sleeping, eating, shopping and then running at the right time. But then, everything changed when I heard San Millan explain that zone two training is where you burn more fat than glucose! So then I'm not even supposed to OD on sugar before training? See, I went on my first 'zone two' run and it turned out a damn slow pace and even that may have been too fast. It was so much easier than the hell I usually put myself through that I really may not even need to sugarize beforehand. And he did train a champion, he's the real deal! I tried to understand the biochem behind it but it went over my head. I realized I have to sit (stand) through those conversations in small increments with a pen and paper. But from what I gathered so far metabolically healthiest people primarily burn fat for fuel. And it's not because they're on keto diet, they just run or bike a lot. Before I heard that, I thought I could binge on sugar as long as I become an athlete and burn it off.

I have much to do and I'm not even allowed to sit down and it's been two hours since I ate those candies so I really bloody need to go bike them off.

I've been getting what seem like sugar crashes. First I feel faint, then I get pale and hot, and sweaty, and finally have to go lie down. Well, I got one again, while biking. First I felt funny, then I feared falling off my bike and cracking my skull - you know, all in the name of good health, then I got hot and had to take off my hood and open my jacket a little, got a little sweat on my lip, had to slow down, and then finally step off and walk, especially up any slope I encountered. It was bad and I didn't have my wallet so I couldn't just go get a vending machine hot chocolate. Eventually I got better and biked home full speed covered in cold sweat. I was so smelly I had to shower. Recuperated with Valsoia vegan seed oil ice cream which I'd sadly left out to thaw a tad too long. Should've done three hours instead of four. So that was an imperfect binge. I've had a total of two of those boxes and I'm scared it will become a problem. It tastes like cake without all the biscuit stuff. One thing I've decided I will stick with iron lady style is the three months off gluten. I accidentally got far (19 days) with it and now failure is not an option. Great deterrent when I want cake or wafers or, geez, especially pastries. But the sad thing is, gluten free is not gonna do fuck all.

I realize now that I hadn't eaten anything since 10AM in the morning. Then that tiny baggy of Haribo twelve hours later. Maybe that was the actual cause for the crash?

Yesterday I had the worst craving for LIDL currant sorbet while watching The Idol finale. Like, it couldn't be just currant sorbet either. It had to come with the The Idol. I killed many an hour writhing in my cravings, waiting for the torrent to drop. Well, I ate it and saw the finale, and even danced for an hour after! Two hours go by - sudden sugar crash. I was dumbfounded.

I didn't burn the ice cream, just fell asleep for two hours to Lava Lamp playlist. Woke up intermittently hearing some angelic shit. It was nice.

So, in the light of this San Millan stuff and my sugar crashes, I should probably quit the sweet stuff again. I think I will eat canned beans for a preworkout three, maybe four hours before running. After all, hunter gatherers don't eat candy nor fake ice cream and they can still run. Notably, I just saw mime reporting that zone two runs worsened his VO2 max whereas prior zone four or so runs had steadily increased it. He has an Apple watch so he can measure fun shit like that.

I ruined the rest of the day, starting ten in the morning. I laid on my side (a new favorite hobby), then got a third box of that ice cream and swore up and down I'll never have it again. Binged on that after a two hour thaw. Turned out that it never thaws to a perfect consistency, but it was still nice. Then I felt like potato chips and Kardashians so, what the hell, I got two giant expensive vegan bags. Then I fell asleep. Woke up, finished ice cream leftovers with coffee. And it was still fucking delicious. Yeah. But I'll tell you the reason for all this. The truth is, I'm having mental breakdowns over the KP. I just don't have a plan for it anymore and it's looking fucking hopeless. I don't know why this nightmare refuses to end. It's been probably ten years now.

#tour de france #the idol #lava lamp

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strayen-fx · 3 years ago

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Red.

》 HHJ x reader

》 angst, vampirish theme

》 warnings: mentions of blood, hints of physical assault

》 2.1k words

》 a/n: short and simple, after months of writing break. Hope you guys enjoy regardless :)

“Stay away from them, my dear. Save your blood from the horrors of their fangs. Be wary of solitude, and be wary of the crowd.”

It was a day not unlike any other. My morning kicked off lazily, with me waking up almost an hour later than a college freshman was supposed to. Nothing unusual there. I did my usual morning prep, took a cup of grandma’s tea in one gulp, and went my way. I was already late for the train—I had to run after a departing bus with an exceptional speed that would put Olympiads to shame. I got in the room just in time as the bell rang for first period. I came in huffing like an old man, but it’s alright. Way better than walking through the early jam-packed hallways.

The first aberration in my daily humdrum existence happened on my way to fourth period. A student from another department stopped me on my tracks. I knew him; he was a member of the student council. Was I in some sort of trouble?

He introduced himself as Han Jisung, then proceeded to ask if I have seen his friend.

“He’s tall,” Jisung explained. “But like, not super tall. Not the towering-over-people kind. He has a mole under his eye. He’s got black—no wait, I think he dyed his hair again the other day. Anyway, have you seen someone like him? He’s noticeably handsome. I guess. I’m more handsome, though, but you know what I mean.”

The whole school would know who he is talking about. The one and only Hwang Hyunjin: champion swimmer, council member, and just a general talk of the town. The Prince. Even if I did see him around, though, I wouldn’t know. I never pay attention to the people I walk by.

I shook my head and muttered a soft sorry. I did feel bad for Jisung. He looked so worried and dejected, and I can’t blame him—not after after the incident with Seungmin. I can’t really take it against him to worry about his friends. I sauntered off to my next class, my mind still stuck on the fact that a normal person in my school has actually talked to me, and I was able to keep my composure.

Fifth period: P.E. I don’t even know why we still have this subject in college. I opted to take a stroll instead. You see, a huge, dense forest is situated right behind the main school grounds. You could say that the school itself lies within the bosom of greeneries. Unkempt bushes and rows of towering trees stretched over several miles deep, starting from the edge of the campus to god-knows-where. It is my goal to scout the whole area before graduation.

Weighed down by my personal monstrous beast, I trudged through. I walked for at least fifteen minutes before I finally reached the spot—my spot. Sheet of decaying leaves cushioned a huge gray boulder, standing at least ten feet tall, shaped like an odd piece of egg smashed against the forest floor. Against it stood a larger stone, this one dotted with moss and weathered with cracks. They were propped against each other for support, as if stopping one another from tumbling to the ground.

There was a smaller rock at the foot of the smaller stone, and I use it as leverage to climb up and sit on top of the largest boulder. It was my favorite place. Most times I could just pretend that I was alone in my own tiny bubble, at the center of that clearing that nobody else ventures but me. I don’t feel the breath of people suffocating me with every step that I take. I don’t feel my heart thumping with the sight of anyone else. I don’t need to hold back. Here, I don’t feel weird.

But today felt somehow different.

It was awfully silent. The wind felt sharper and colder. Electricity was humming in the air, leaving my skin prickling with discomfort. There was a tension in my veins that I couldn’t quite explain—it felt like an omen of an incoming disaster.

Time ticked slow. A couple hours could have passed—or maybe it has only been five minutes—when a nearby rustling perked up my senses.

Trying to keep my movements as quiet as possible, I hopped down and took up a defensive position, which wasn’t easy to do for a student with no actual weapon aside from an almost-empty bag and a worn-out calligraphy pen. My instincts told me to take cover—but my feet seemed glued to the ground. Sweat trickled from my forehead. My hands started to feel clammy.

And then, just as I was about to scamper away, a figure crashed into view from behind the nearest oak tree. I almost threw my bag towards the person’s direction, until I had a clear view of the intruder’s face.

It was Hwang Hyunjin, wide-eyed and disoriented, with his cheeks and uniform smudged with traces of blood.

“Help me.”

His voice came out as a tiny croak, as if his throat was filled with acid. He stumbled towards me, reaching out his hand for support. I wasn’t able to move an inch—and who could blame me? The situation was way too hard to process.

Hwang Hyunjin, the university prince, was hunched huffing before me, his clothes caked with mud and dried blood, his hair a nest of mess on his head. He had a cut on his cheek, I noticed. His breathing was heavy and labored, as if the mere act of standing on his own two feet required all the effort he could muster.

“Help me,” he repeated.

“What happened to you?” I managed to blurt out. My initial thought was that some random outsiders kicked his butt for stealing their girlfriends. But no—someone like Hyunjin would have been able to handle that. Plus, something in his eyes showed an elaborate fear—something only a beast would be capable of instilling. I should know.

My heart began thumping faster, a colossal drum barreling in my chest.

Just as my schoolmate was about to open his mouth and explain, a loud rustling broke the stillness of the air. Before I could process what was happening, Hyunjin grabbed my hand and bolted away, dragging me with him.

“Don’t look back!” he warned.

I did.

At least a dozen feet behind us was another male, probably as old as Hyunjin. He was sporting our school uniform, walking casually under the shades of trees as if time wasn’t of any matter. What puzzled me, though, was the fact that we can’t seem to distance ourselves from him despite the heavy efforts Hyunjin had been exerting to drag us both away from this newcomer.

I took another glance behind me, and to my surprise, the young man wasn’t there anymore. Nowhere behind us, as if he dissipated without a single trace.

Hyunjin took a sudden stop, causing me to bump my head against his back. I was about to call him out for stopping, but then I saw the looming figure a few meters in front of us.

“You…?” I began, my mind a juggle of unanswered questions. How on earth did that happen? How is he—

Hyunjin's friend, Kim Seungmin, stood before us in his dirty school uniform. He looked pale, his eyes bloodshot, but he was standing there in full grace, very much alive, giving us a toothy grin. “You’re hurting my feelings, Hyun. Why are you running away from me?”

Hyunjin’s grip on my hand went tighter. “Seungmin...”

“Friends are supposed to help each other, am I right?” Seungmin continued, faux dismay dripping in his voice. He bared his fangs, its tips dripping with fresh blood. “So help me, Hyunjin.”

I felt my body run cold. I wanted to scream, run, anything—anything to get away from this. From him. From the two of them. From everything. But Hyunjin's hand remained strong around my wrist, and my legs were close to turning jelly. I could start to feel the fullness in my mouth, the pointy ends of my incisors. Something that only happens when I'm in an extreme hunger or danger.

“Stay away from them,” grandma said. “We are the same kind, but we are different. Weaker. They see us as preys, as special commodities. They can smell your blood despite my concoctions, my dear, remember this!”

Seungmin tilted his head to one side, finally regarding my presence. “And you, over there. I’ve never tried drinking such special blood.” He grinned. “Satiate my thirst.”

The last thing I knew, a strong hand was pressing tightly around my neck, turning my vision green.

°°°°°°°°°°°°°

“Have you heard of the news?”

“What news?”

“Kim Seungmin was safe! They found him in the forest yesterday.”

“Thank goodness! Was he hurt?”

“He had a few gashes, but he’s fine. Hyunjin found him and brought him to the hospital right away.”

Students filled the corridor, everyone bustling and hustling about the news: after his sudden disappearance, Seungmin was finally found by his best friend, Hyunjin. The latter saw him in the forest, hungry and disoriented. They went straight to the hospital to treat his minor wounds, and that was that—nobody bothered to ask how he managed to lose himself in the wilderness, or how we managed to survive seven days on his own. Nobody asked him stupid and unnecessary questions. Seungmin was safe, and that was all that mattered.

I brushed my way past the milling crowd, flinching at every accidental touch. I kept my eyes on the ground, forcing my mind into silence. I was expecting everyone to be in their respective classrooms at this time of the day, but apparently, the news of Seungmin’s return has become enough reason for everyone to wander about and neglect their individual duties. It was a grand miscalculation on my part—I hadn’t braced myself for this huge number of people.

Not here. Not now. Not ever.

I just have to get back home, and then it’ll be over. My insides would stop churning once I’ve drunk grandma’s tea—that has worked for 18 years now. I can stop this. I can stop me.

I made a run towards the comfort room. To my luck, nobody was inside. I washed my face over and over, as if doing so would cleanse me from the impurity stamped on every drop of my blood. The face on the mirror horrified me—I had to stop myself from punching the glass over and over.

The moment I stepped out, I felt his presence.

He was there, leaning against the wall, lurking behind the shadows. There was a faint gleam of terror in his eyes, but at the same time, I can feel it: the hunger. Lust for meat. Thirst for blood.

“Don’t be like him, Hyunjin,” I pleaded. “Don’t be like us.”

He shook his head in resignation. “It’s too late.”

He took a step closer. Another. He kept on walking until he stood right in front of me, too close I can feel him breathe.

Too close I can see the faint traces of blood on his lips.

“I’m still hungry,” he sobbed. “I’m still hungry…”

Fear was apparent in his eyes—fear of what would happen to him, fear of what he had become. “You will be fine,” I offered, taking his hand in mine. “Trust me on this. It will be fine.”

And then I felt it, stronger this time—the hunger he was talking about. The thirst. My stomach growled in protest at the sight of Hyunjin’s pale flesh. I can smell his blood—I can feel its steady rhythm as it flowed through his pulsing veins.

I need to get home. Maybe my grandma could do something about Hyunjin, too. Maybe she could produce a stronger tea, and both of us wouldn’t have to worry about our instincts anymore.

We stood next to each other for a full minute before he broke the silence.

“We need each other to survive,” Hyunjin whispered. “If we drink the blood of our own kind, we can last for a month without feeding on others.” He freed his hand from my hold and gripped my shoulders tightly. “I need you. And you need me, too.”Hyunjin leaned down until we were staring at each other at eye level. He closed the distance between us. I closed my eyes, and for the first time, I allowed my monster to take ove.

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drabbles-of-writing · 3 years ago

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Stitched Back Together

AO3

first Owl Fight attack, woo! The prompt for this one was “Luz and Raine hanging out”

Summary: Free of Kikimora's control, with scars carved into their skin, Raine is taken back to the Owl House. Awake in the middle of the night, unable to sleep after their whole ordeal, they officially meet Luz. Talking to one of Eda's kids really shouldn't be as intimidating as it feels.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

When Raine first saw the kids, truly and consciously, there were thorns retreating from their eyes and scars etched onto their skin as Eda held them tightly.

Eda’s sclera had turned black, hands hooked into talons with wings arched over their heads, and was at least two feet taller than when they had last seen her. And there had been a lot to ask about there, and possibly some gawking, but this isn’t about that.

Because as soon as Raine could stand, Eda holding their hands tightly and almost brought to tears at how relieved she was to see them alright, to know there would be no more harm done to them, Raine noticed the two figures far across from them, holding back the few guards trying to intervene.

They recognized them quickly, from the photo that had twisted a hole into their chest, because Eda had kids and she had spoken of them with such desperation and love--

The girl had turned, and Raine knew then they hadn’t been imagining the round ears when they first saw the photo. She had the young demon they recognized earlier clinging to her back, and they both looked at Raine with confusion. The demon’s had been accusatory, but the humans, she had to be a human, looked nothing but curious.

It had all passed by in a blur, the escape from the guards and Eda bundling them into the Owl House, frantic as she continued to check them over, never slowing in her talking as the wings and sharp edges retreated back into her body, which Raine may have quietly mourned the loss of. They suited her.

The human and demon had watched from the background, occasionally offering assistance towards or around the two, but more or less giving them space as Eda fretted and explained all she could to Raine, clinging like she was afraid if she didn’t, Raine would vanish again.

They heard of what Kikimora had done to them, of what Belos had done to them, of what they had done. Of Eda’s acceptance of the curse, of the rest of the BATs being in the Conformatorium (something they both agreed on fixing as soon as they could), of everything that Eda could think to catch them up on.

There would be time to unpack all of that, to formulate plans, to talk about everything beyond what Raine had missed out on. But that could wait until another day, could wait until Raine had gotten rest, and a moment to reorient themselves.

And yet, they still found themself in Eda’s kitchen, nearing midnight, with a cup of tea that looked suspiciously like the one Lilith had liked in their hands.

They knew they should be asleep, it was late, and knowing Eda, there would be far more to fret about in the morning. Eda had offered her nest, but Raine had taken the couch, not exactly willing to voice their opinion on how Eda’s nest did not look comfortable.

They were thankful for it later, too, when they awoke after barely an hour of sleep with the feeling of vines wrapped around their throat and muffled, begging cries as their hands moved of their own accord.

They sighed and slumped against the counter, setting down the cup for a moment to rub at their wrist, where scars from the reaching thorns still lay. They faded the further the scars stretched up their body, but they figured the ones along their wrist and arm would last for the rest of their life.

It wasn’t too bad, a scar was really the best thing they could’ve asked for. They stared down at their tea, thoughts swirling and not even bothering to try and sort any of them out. Later, when their wrist didn’t have a phantom ache.

“Oh, hey.”

Raine startled, almost knocking their cup over as they whirled their head around.

The human stood in the doorway, looking a bit surprised at Raine’s reaction. She had clearly just woken up, hair a frizzy mess and eyes still blinking with sleep.

“Oh, um, hello.” Raine said, forcing themself to relax. “Sorry, is there something you need?” They asked, wrapping a hand around their tea.

“I just came here for a snack,” The human shrugged, breezing right by the counter and towards the cabinets.

Raine nodded, mostly just to themself, and went back to staring into space, trying to pretend the awkward tension hadn’t suddenly arisen.

They realized after a moment that the girl had paused in what she was doing, hand still in the cabinet door, but taking nothing out. They looked up for a moment, and caught the girl watching them with a contemplative look on her face until she realized she had been staring and jerked back to shuffling through the cabinets.

“So,” Raine said, in some attempt to break the tension, leaning their arms across the counter. “You’re Eda’s kid?” They said, grimacing slightly at how off that had come off sounding.

“Er, yeah,” The human said, frowning at the cabinet before shutting it again and opening a different one. “And you’re...Raine.”

“You’ve heard of me, then?” Raine guessed, taking a sip of their tea.

“Vaguely,” The human admitted, opening another cabinet door. “I know you’re--er, were, the head of the Bard Coven. I know Eda mentioned some group called the BATs you lead. I know that...Eda knows you.” She said, voice becoming more mumbly as she spoke.

“Ah, Eda didn’t speak of me much, then?” Raine inquired, telling themself that they shouldn't really be surprised.

“Not until you, uh, had the whole...thing happening.” The girl nodded. “Then Eda got really worried and me and King asked why she was so worked up, and then she told us you were an old friend, which I maybe halfway trust, and that you had this group with the BATs...and I still don’t think I understand it completely.” She admitted with a sheepish look.

“Sounds like Eda.” Raine chuckled, shaking their head slightly as they smiled down at their tea. “Wait, halfway trust?” They added right after, back straightening.

“I mean, I trust you mean a lot to Eda,” The human said, her raiding of the cabinets forgotten. “And I trust Eda means a lot to you,” Raine did not flush at that, thank you. “But pretty much everyone Eda knows she has a very complicated relationship with, and I’d be surprised if you were the one exception.”

“Ah,” Raine said, rubbing the back of their neck. Is this what it felt like to be interrogated by a kid? “You got me there. We haven’t...seen each other in a while.” They admitted.

“How long?” The human asked, interest sparking in her eyes as she leaned next to the cabinets.

“Erm, two...maybe two and half decades?” Raine said, lifting a hand and tilting it. “Titan, it sounds much longer than it feels when I say it out loud.” They murmured.

“Oooh, another piece of the mysterious backstory!” The human grinned, perking up, all the hesitation from earlier melting away at a probably concerning speed. “Why’d ya stop talking?”

“Ah, well, you know,” Raine said, flushing again as their ears pressed back. “Just...a split, really. Seeing other people. Eda had some things she still needed to work out, and I suppose I had to reflect a bit, too.” They mumbled.

“Wait,” The girl narrowed her eyes, and when Raine focused on where she was again, they pulled back when they realized Luz was on the other side of the counter. “Are you one of her exes?” She gasped, eyes wide.

“Oh dear,” Raine sighed, face falling in their hands.

“You are!” The girl exclaimed, and they sincerely hoped it didn’t wake anyone else up. “Man, and I thought all her exes hated her from how she talked about some of them.” She whistled. “Explains a bit, though.”

“Is that so?” Raine mumbled, knowing that they were blushing up to their ears.

“Yeah, I mean, explains why she seemed so freaked out. She's gotta know you pretty well.” The human said casually. “She goes all out when she gets attached, as I’m sure you know.” She added with a light tease.

“Oh, I know.” Raine sighed, memories of holding back a feral Eda back in Hexside from mauling Odalia still vivid in their mind. “And, since we’re talking, I apologize, but,” They said, raising their head from their hands when they were sure they didn’t look like they’d had a nasty sunburn across their face. “I don’t believe I...caught your name.”

“Eda didn’t mention it?” The human blinked, graciously taking the change in conversation.

“She might’ve, but I’ll be honest, I caught maybe two of every five words she said.” Raine admitted, flicking an ear. “I’m sorry, but I figure I should ask now before it turns into something where I ask at a much worse moment.”

“Ah, don’t worry about it,” The human waved her hand. “You went through a lot. My name’s Luz.” She said cheerfully, offering a hand. “The other little guy is King.”

Raine blinked at it for a moment before reaching out and taking it, giving a single shake until Luz pulled back. She was practically rocking on her heels from how excited she seemed, and Raine may have allowed a small half-smile in return.

“Have you lived with Eda long?” Raine asked, because they could still remember Eda’s pained explanation that the kids weren’t hers hers, and found themself wondering where in the world she had picked up a human.

“Few months,” Luz said. “Four, maybe? I dunno, the calendars here are different from the human realm.”

“Four months?” Raine blinked, surprised. “I would’ve thought you’d known her longer.”

“Nah, I’m just a recent addition.” Luz shrugged, looking away with a hint of nervousness. “King’s been here for years, though.”

“Huh, odd.” Raine said with a shrug as they went back to drinking their tea. “You act a lot like her, I would’ve thought you’d have picked up those habits from her.”

“I do?” Luz repeated, straightening.

“Yes?” Raine lowered their cup. “When she was younger, at least. Very curious, couldn’t leave any questions unanswered. And stubborn. And maybe a little too attentive for her own good.” They added with a lighthearted tone.

“Oh, yeah, that-that sounds familiar.” Luz coughed into her fist, and Raine smiled at her embarrassment. “You knew her when you were younger, then?” She asked, and Raine chose not to comment on the slight diversion in conversation.

“Since Hexside,” Raine nodded. “I want to say we were eleven or so? Maybe twelve. Never had a moment of peace since.”

“Aw, Eda’s backstory just keeps getting more and more convoluted. At least yours isn’t as crazy as Lilith or her moms. Even after the whole mind-control thing.” Luz said with a fiery curiosity in her eyes, and Raine was impressed at their lack of visible reaction to how casually Luz brought up the mind-control. Another thing like Eda, Raine thought. No amount of answers would be satisfactory, and treated every odd thing like it was just another day.

“Well, I’m glad I got her daughter's approval. Wouldn’t want to fight my way in now, would I?” Raine chuckled, tilting their cup back and finishing the last of it.

When they lowered their cup again, Luz was staring at them like a spooked rabbit, hands gripping the counter. They blinked slowly, brow raised in confusion.

“I-I’m not,” Luz stuttered, coughing to clear her throat and forcibly releasing the counter. “I’m not her daughter, you thought I was her daughter?”

“You aren’t?” Raine frowned, ears perking up. “But you said you were her kid.”

“That’s--I thought you meant--like when Eda just casually calls me and and King kids, or when I’m out with my friends and she’s watching us we’re just ‘her kids,’ you know?” Luz said, looking a little frantic as she did so, wildly waving her hands around. “Not--no I’m not, related to her or anything--”

“Oh, I knew that.” Raine brushed it off. “But Eda told me you and King were her kids?”

“I--when did that happen?” Luz asked, near sounding like a demand.

Raine hesitated, for a brief moment. They doubted someone like Eda would so casually tell a teenager and young demon about that time she, you know, almost died, and it really wasn’t their place to tell them as such if she hadn’t.

“The last time we spoke.” They settled on. “Before the...thing.” They said, mimicking Luz’s words from earlier. “I learned she had kids, and I told her that if she had something to lose, she had to get back to them.”

“I...oh.” Luz said quietly, slowly relaxing and turning her head down to stare at the counter.

“I’m…” Raine hesitated. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to overstep, I didn’t know it was a touchy subject--”

“No, no! It’s not, you’re fine.” Luz waved them off. “I just...didn’t know Eda had said it like that.”

Raine would’ve thought something along the lines of ‘Eda didn’t tell you she thought of you as her kid?’ if they didn’t know that Eda was the same person who hadn’t even truly thought of them as dating until Raine had introduced her as their girlfriend with earshot. She’d been so touched over the whole ordeal that Raine had to remind her, repeatedly, that they had been dating for over a month. Apparently knowing, and having a title for it, were two very different things.

They wouldn’t be surprised if this kid was the same.

“She cares about you, you know that, right?” Raine asked softly, and Luz looked up to meet their eyes.

“Yeah,” She said, cracking a small smile. “I know.”

Raine nodded in satisfaction, stepping around the counter to set their cup in the sink. It was late, they could wash it in the morning. How Eda could've ever thought about leaving a kid like her, they don't think they'd want to know.

“She cares about you, too.”

Raine paused, going still as one hand lightly gripped the edge of the sink.

“I know,” They said, almost surprised that they believed it so easily, inhaling as they set their shoulders back. “It’s almost scary how little that seems to have changed.” They mumbled.

“For the both of you, huh?” Luz teased.

Raine whirled around, ears pressed back as their face lit up again, being greeted with the girl's smug face that she had to have picked up from Eda, it was almost uncanny.

“I--you--she just--there was--shouldn’t you be asleep at this hour?” Raine managed to strangle out, getting a gleeful giggle out of Luz as they did so.

“I got hungry,” Luz shrugged simply, her smug expression never falling.

“Then grab a snack and go to bed.” Raine huffed, crossing their arms, as if that would hide the embarrassment as they stepped aside.

“I will, once I find where Eda put the cookies. She keeps hiding them from King and doesn’t tell me where she put them.” Luz muttered, stepping up to the cabinets again and opening a new one.

“I think that means she’s hiding them from both of you.” Raine raised a brow.

“She should find better hiding spots, then.” Luz said, retracting a hand from the cabinet with a container full of cookies in her hand, shaking them. “Cover for me if she asks why some went missing?” She asked, a pleading look on her face.

“I’ll cover you if one goes missing.” Raine bargained, and Luz gave them a disgruntled look before sighing and taking a single cookie from the container.

“Can’t believe you.” Luz huffed good-naturedly, putting the cookies away.

“Just because you're Eda’s kid doesn’t mean I’m going to let you get away with everything, Titan knows how Eda would’ve ended up if that happened.” They muttered, shaking their head. “I fear the day you and Amber meet.”

“Who?” Luz tilted her head, taking a large bite of her cookie.

“One of my crew, she’s about your age.” Raine said simply. “I think you’ll get along. Now go, shoo, I’m willing to bet tomorrow will be quite hectic, and you need your sleep.” They said, herding Luz out of the kitchen.

“I’m going, I’m going!” Luz said, smiling as she lightly batted at Raine’s hands, darting out of the kitchen. “Remember, you saw nothing.” She warned, walking backwards as she narrowed her eyes on Raine.

“Lips are sealed, I was fast asleep the whole night.” Raine said, leaning against the doorway to the kitchen. “Though I figure she’ll find out, anyway.”

“Yeah, but I’ve got backup now.” Luz said, shoving the last half of the cookie in her mouth before slipping away through the doorway that led to the staircase.

Raine chuckled, shaking their head as they pushed themself off of the doorway. They should probably hit the couch again, too. Eda would only fret more if they were falling asleep all day tomorrow.

“Oh, almost forgot!” Luz said, head suddenly poking through the doorway and causing Raine to pause. “Welcome to the Owl House,” She said cheerily. “Since I take it you’ll be staying a while.”

Raine’s ears flicked back and they mumbled under their breath as Luz’s smile only widened, and Raine couldn’t help but mirror it.

“Night!” She chirped, vanishing around the corner yet again.

Raine watched the place where she’d vanished again, rubbing their wrist and noting it didn’t ache as much as before.

“Goodnight,” They said to the empty air.

159 notes · View notes

miraeluc · 4 years ago

Text

you don’t return from a mission

prompt: “diluc starts to worry when you’ve been gone on a simple mission for more than two days so he decides to look for you himself”

pairing: diluc x gender-neutral! reader

word count: 1,1k

warnings: mention of broken bone?? reader is hurt (not too bad), it’s just cute tbh

genre: angst, fluff

he was worried sick.

it was unlike you to stay overtime on missions - you did your work and left, avoiding unwanted commissions from strangers

after 1 day he wasn’t too worried, maybe you got carried away

after 2 days he was already starting to worry, maybe you went somewhere more far away and are camping there?

you were supposed to go to springvale though

that’s not that far.

after 3 days he was getting physically ill from all the overthinking - he thought every single possibility of what state you may be in right now

he hopes you’re just camping somewhere

he decided he couldn’t wait anymore and decided to go out and look for you himself

the next morning he awoke at 5am

he couldn’t sleep any longer so he got a backpack with emergency items such as a first aid kit and went on his (not so) merry way

he walked through windrise

just to make sure you weren’t there

sadly you were nowhere to be found

he sighed and kept walking - now on the way to springvale

he didn’t want to admit if but he was so terrified of losing you

you were the first person able to break down his walls in years

the thought of you potentially being in great danger made him automatically increase speed

he walked through the small village

“hey, brook. have you seen y/n around?”

“master diluc? y/n? they came by few hours ago to cook some food! looked pretty... disheveled. they said they were on their way to clear some hilichurl camps.”

diluc cursed under his breath

“did you see what direction they went?”

“took off in dawn winery’ direction-”

“ok. thanks.” he cut her off

he immediately started walking again, now getting more worried after brook described your appearance as ,,disheveled,,

when he arrived at dawn winery there was no one outside

that was weird

there’s usually always someone out there

where is everyone????

he obviously tried to go in

the doors were locked

that’s double-weird

double-weird until he very clearly heard you grunt in pain in the distance, atleast

what was dangerous enough to make dawn winery shut closed without asking him first?

he didn’t have enough time to ponder over it because he was already sprinting towards the source of sounds coming from you

his eyes widened and he faltered for a second as soon as he saw you, on the ground in the middle of three cryo abyss mages

he was, for the first time, relieved to be noticed by enemies - the three now floating towards him

he felt his anger picking up when he glanced at you, lying on the ground motionless

so, ya know what he did?

he released intense flames - knocking his opponents shields off, letting his phoenix finish them off

he sprinted towards you, dropping to his knees and pulling you to rest your head on his lap

“y/n, hang on for me, alright? don’t close your eyes”

his voice was shaking

“d-diluc- i can’t-”

was the only thing you managed to cough out, entrusting him to keep you safe, unable to keep fighting to stay awake, enduring that pain

you woke up to the sound of wood crackling beside you, residing into the warmth it radiated

curse those cryo abyss mages

you slowly peeled your eyes open, flinching at the sight of barbara and diluc hovering above you

where were you?

is this.. dawn winery??

what’s barbara doing here,,

you don’t know and you don’t care because you feel yourself getting engulfed by diluc’s arms

“god, you scared me so much..”

he won’t mention that he cried in front of barbara because he was so worried

that would feed your ego a little too much

“i’m sorry.. are they gone? i just wanted to defeat them before returning home..”

“they’re long gone..”

he sighed and pulled away from the hug, glancing at barbara who was waiting for your little moment to end before she could speak

“how did that even happen? you can take down three abyss mages easily!”

“I had cleared three hilichurl camps already and I was weakened - those took me by surprise as I was making my way back”

“you need to be careful next time - i healed you to the best of my abilities, but damage that only time can heal has been left behind. you have a broken rib and you were shivering the entire time while you were out! we warmed you up as best as we could and you should be fine now, but i wouldn’t be surprised if you do catch a cold the next few days..”

she then paused and looked at diluc

“you need to take care of y/n until they get bett-”

“you don’t even need to tell me. i won’t leave y/n out of my sight for now.”

she nodded and stood up

“very well. then, i’ll leave back to mondstadt, i still have work to do.”

without another word she left, which made diluc’s attention go back to you

he reached his hand out to caress your cheek

“i nearly got sick myself when you didnt return home after 3 days”

you broke out in a little giggle, stopping when your rib started immensely hurting but you then spoke

“oh diluc.. you know i usually take longer because i get carried away.. nonetheless, i’m very thankful that you came to my aid, no one else would have..”

“it makes me want to fire all my employees - they were all ju-”

you cut him off, pulling him down towards you to kiss his lips

“i’m glad they did, i got to see you fight~”

he scoffed, a smile spreading onto his lips

“seriously? that’s what you’re happy about?”

“well you looked very hot..” you trailed off

he attacked your face with tiny kisses after-

you best believe he didn’t let you out of sight the following weeks

he mostly made you stay in bed

always bringing you tea and left to fetch medicine for you in case of need

he even waited in front of the bathroom door when you needed to use the bathroom

he even helped you shower

you don’t express it verbally, but you’re really thankful to have him

no one except him supports and protects you as much as he does

he could literally kill someone for you

(spoiler: he already did.)

he’s your little meanie

did i mention that taking care of you also meant lots and lots of cuddles?

he always says it’s ‘so i can warm you up’

...

you know it’s because deep down he’s still very worried about your well-being

even after you��ve returned to good condition he hesitates to let you go on commissions

he usually accompanies you, just to make sure

you don’t mind

going on adventures alone can get boring - so having him by your side makes it all better :)

additional notes: hey there! there’s my second drabble. (truth is, i actually dislike this one lol). to be honest, i got so happy at the positive feedback towards my kaeya drabble, so i’m sorry it took me a while to write another one and it came out short too :( - i was having a little struggle with some writers block lol. nonetheless i hope you enjoyed this!!

#diluc #diluc x reader #diluc ragnvindr #fluff #angst #gender neutral #genshin impact angst #genshin impact #genshin impact fluff #gender neutral reader #you get hurt #abyss mage #diluc fluff #diluc angst

575 notes · View notes

watchmegetobsessed · 4 years ago

Text

REMINDER

a/n: i’ve had this idea on my mind all weekend and finally got around to write it! just a short little oneshot of Bucky finally realizing he should make his move 😌

pairing: Bucky X Reader

warnings: blood, gunshot

word count: 3.7k

masterlist

(gif is not mine)

Bucky hated Tony’s luxurious parties, but as part of the team, he could just never avoid them, someone always came into his room and forced him to join the others, telling him it would be so much fun. It was never. He doesn’t even know what he would find fun anymore, having his life back after all these torturous years, it’s hard to find what brings him happiness, but schmoozing with Tony’s friends and the team and all the agents is just not his cup of tea. He would rather hide in his room, read a book or catch up with whatever show he has been watching lately.

The night he met you was a similar one. Steve was the first one to drop by his room, trying to convince him to get dressed and join the rest of the team for a drink, but Bucky resisted until his friend gave up and left, but then came Natasha. She just always knew how to play the strings to make him do what she wanted. After a bit of persuasion he finally agreed to make an appearance, though he made it clear he wouldn’t be there too long.

After changing into a pair of dark jeans and a black long sleeved shirt that hid his metal arm quite well, he made his way to the party, already feeling grumpy that he had to socialize. It was just like the last time. He got himself a drink, talked a little to Steve, then Banner and Nat and then hid in the corner of the room, avoiding any new faces, not in the mood to introduce himself. He was about to sneak out and go back to his room finally when he first saw you.

You were a relatively new agent in the tower. Having only been there for a few weeks, you didn’t have the chance to meet Bucky since he was on a mission up until a few days ago. You were a bit of a social butterfly, it didn’t take you too long to make friends in the Tower and you found yourself getting the closest to Wanda for some reason.

When Bucky saw you that evening you were talking to her near a high table, nursing a drink in your hands. You wore a white, tight dress that made it no secret how much all the training had helped to form your body through the years. He couldn’t hear your voice, but when he saw your smile, he swore his heart skipped a beat.

Your eyes caught his gaze lingering on you and he quickly turned away, feeling his cheeks growing hot, as if he was a kid caught red-handed of something troublesome. Bucky hoped you didn’t notice it or that he didn’t cross any lines, asking for another drink for himself he was planning to chug the whole thing down and then leave before he could embarrass himself any more. What he was not expecting was you making your way towards him to introduce yourself to the man you’d only heard about, but hadn’t met. He was so busy with making up his plan about how to escape and then thanking his drink to the bartender, that he didn’t even notice you approaching him. So when he turned to the left and was about to walk away he bumped right into you, some of his vodka soda spilling to your dress, making it stick to your skin on your thigh.

“Oh shit, I-I’m so sorry, I didn’t—I wasn’t looking, I’m so so—“

“It’s alright,” you chuckled, shrugging your shoulders as you grabbed a few napkins from the bar to soak up some of the wetness.

“I totally ruined it, right? I’ll buy you another dress or pay for this one, I’m so sorry,” he kept rambling, feeling like a total idiot.

“It’s just a dress,” you smiled at him warmly. “It doesn’t matter.”

“Well, it’s… it’s a pretty dress,” Bucky found himself saying and when he saw your eyebrows raising, he almost wanted to take it back.

“I’m afraid we haven’t met before. I’m Agent Y/L/N and you must be Sergeant Barnes,” you smiled at him, holding out a hand for him that he took and delicately shook.

“Just… call me Bucky,” he nodded with a shy smile and that was the start of something new in his life.

He found himself bumping into you all the time, in the controlling room, the gym, the kitchen, you were everywhere. Though it might not had been that coincidental, Bucky found himself learning your routine pretty fast and made his own schedule according to that. He couldn’t help it, you were the sweetest and most beautiful creature he had ever seen and he found himself being drawn to you. And you didn’t mint it, not even a bit. A special bond started to form between the two of you, movie nights, shared missions, runs around the city, you always had something to do together and Bucky was falling for you more and more with every passing day.

Nat and Steve liked to tease him about his growing feelings, but utterly with the intention of forcing him to make a move finally.

“What are you waiting for, Barnes?” Nat questioned him one afternoon when she caught him eyeing you in the controlling room.

“What are you talking about?” he cleared his throat, pretending like he had no idea, but he wasn’t a good actor.

“Just ask her out.”

“No,” he shook his head, folding his arms on his chest.

“Why not? She has the same heart eyes for you that you have for her,” she rolled her eyes nodding in your way. You were sitting behind a desk, oblivious to the conversation that was happening across the room.

“She is just friendly. That’s all we are. Friends.”

“We are friends, Barnes. You and her? That’s more than that,” Nat pointed it out and he looked in your way, chewing on his bottom lip as he watched you type something out on the computer. As if you could feel his gaze on you, you looked up, eyes meeting his and a warm smile tugging on your lips. Bucky could feel his heart fluttering in his chest, just like every time you looked at him with those bright eyes of yours.

He couldn’t bring himself to make an actual move. He was always so afraid you’d reject him and the friendship you shared was one of the most important things in his life. He didn’t want to risk losing it. Besides, he always thought he would have time to figure out what to do. Even if he decided to confess to you, he couldn’t just do it out of the blue, he needed time which he thought he had. It was up until the two of you went on a mission together and it didn’t go according to plan.

You were supposed to stay together during the raid, but you convinced him to split up when you started chasing some bad guys and they parted ways.

“It’s going to be fine, Bucky. You go that way and I’ll meet you by the jet, alright?” you told him before running off the other direction. He wanted to go after you, not let you go alone, but he didn’t listen to his instinct.

Now he is running through the maze of hallways after you asked for help through the com. Natasha is on her way too, but she is way farther from your location than he is.

“Y/N? Are you alright?” he calls out, trying to find the right way. Gunshots are heard outside and Tony makes some stupid joke about Steve, but Bucky ignores it, he just wants to hear your voice.

“Yeah, but I’m out of bullets, hurry—“

A series of gunshots rips through the com and he hears your painful grunt, the sound of your whimper turning his blood cold right away.

“Y/N! Y/N what happened?!” he shouts, speeding down the hallways leading to the place where you’re supposed to be according to your tracker.

“I got—Shit I got shot,” you groan, the end fading out as your voice breaks.

He bursts through the double door and immediately sees the man that most likely shot you, holding up his gun Bucky shoots him in the chest so fast the guy didn’t even have time to aim at him.

“Y/N!” he calls out, frantically looking for you.

“Bucky!” he hears your faint voice coming from behind a desk. He sprints to you, kneeling down next to you and horror shakes through his whole body when he sees the relatively big pool of blood around you as you try to push your hands to the wound on your thigh. “I think… I think it grazed an artery,” you faintly tell him, a few tears rolling down your cheek.

“Fuck, no, no, stay with me, okay? You’re gonna be fine!” he tells you, ripping off the sleeve of his shirt, wrapping it around your leg as tight as possible to try to stop the bleeding. “Y/N was shot, she is losing blood rapidly. We need to get her out now!” he demands through the com while you are slowly losing your consciousness. “Don’t fall asleep, alright? Stay with me! Talk to me!” he begs you as he cradles you into his arms and heads out to the jet.

“I can’t…” you breathe out, your head falling to his shoulder as he carries you in bridal style.

“Of course you can. And you will. You are not dying on me, understood?”

“It’s not like… I have a choice,” you tell him with a faint smile, your eyes slowly closing.

“Y/N, don’t fall asleep! Just hang in there a little longer!”

He makes it out of the building, Natasha and Steve joining him on the way, the jet already waiting for them. You try to keep your eyes open, Bucky keeps asking you questions and doesn’t leaves you until he hears an answer.

“This was not how I imagined my death,” you mumble, lying on the floor of the jet as it takes off, heading back to the Tower where Dr. Cho is already waiting for you.

“It’s not that, Y/N, that’s not happening now. Just stay with me okay?” Bucky begs you, holding your hand in his while Natasha works on your leg, trying her best to keep you from losing any more blood.

“So eager to keep me alive, hmm?” you smile, eyes dropping closed, but Bucky squeezes your hand, making you to look at him.

“Of course. I still owe you a new dress, don’t I?” he tries to joke, but you don’t answer. You lost your fight and let yourself lose consciousness as Bucky keeps calling your name over and over again, but you never answer him.

The next twenty-four hours is a blur to both you and him as well. For him because he refuses to leave your side once you are out of Dr. Cho’s hands, he stays sitting on the uncomfortable chair by your bed no matter what as members of the team drop by every once in a while. And for you because you keep drifting in and out of consciousness, but you’re never strong enough to actually open your eyes, you only hear voices. Mostly Bucky’s.

One time you hear him talking to Steve, their voices sound distant, but you can understand the words clearly.

“I shouldn’t have let her go alone,” Bucky mumbles under his breath.

“It wasn’t your fault. You couldn’t have known this would happen,” Steve tries to convince her, but it sounds like Bucky is too stubborn to listen to his friend.

“We were supposed to stay together. It was my fault.”

You want to protest. You want to tell him it was none of his fault, but you can’t bring yourself to speak and the darkness pulls you in again, cutting you off of the world. Next time your mind wakes up, you hear Natasha’s soothing voice.

“Why don’t you go and sleep a little? I’ll stay with her,” she offers and that’s when you feel a warm hold on your left hand.

“No,” Bucky answers from beside you. “I’m staying, but thanks.”

“Alright, are you hungry then? I can bring you something.”

“I’m fine,” he answers shortly and you can tell just from his voice that he is so broken, beating himself over what happened. But once again, you are not strong enough to speak and you fall back asleep again.

But the third time you wake up you can actually bring yourself to open your eyes. The bright neon lights are a little blinding, so you need to blink a few times before you get used to them. It takes a couple of seconds to take in your surroundings and then your eyes fall on the sitting form next to your bed.

Bucky is reading a book you gave him a few weeks ago, it’s the first Hunger Games, you thought he would like the story a lot and judging from how far he is in it, he really does. He is so lost between the lines that he doesn’t realize that your eyes opened.

“Bucky?” you call out, your throat feels as dry as a desert and his blue eyes immediately snap at you, putting the book aside as he leans forward to grab your hand gently in his again.

“Hey! You’re awake! How are you feeling?” he asks you, brushing a strand of hair out of your forehead.

“Like shit,” you chuckle, making him smile as well, but his eyes still hold a lot of pain from seeing you like this. “I’m thirsty.”

“Here.” He grabs a bottled water from the bedside table and pours some into a paper cup, helping you drink it and you feel like you were reborn.

“Thanks. What… How long have I been out?” you ask, pushing yourself up a bit so you’re leaning against the headboard.

“A little over a day. Dr. Cho said it could take you a few days to wake up after all the blood you lost.”

Now that he has brought it up, you realize that your thigh is wrapped up, a constant, blunt pain gripping your nerves. You push the white covers off of yourself so you can take a look at the slightly bloody bandages hugging your leg. You already know it will leave a nasty scar on you.

“I should have been there,” Bucky speaks up seeing you eyeing your leg. You look at him shaking your head.

“No. You couldn’t have known and I was the one who told you to go the other way. It wasn’t your fault.”

“But I could have just told you no. I should have.”

“Bucky, stop,” you breathe out, gripping his hand tight in your hold. “You brought me out of there, practically saved my life. If anything I should be thanking you.”

“But I shouldn’t have let it happen in the first pla—“

“Shut up, Sergeant,” you chuckle softly. “I’m still here, aren’t I? Isn’t that all that matters?”

Bucky’s face softens as he stares back at you nodding shortly. He can’t even describe how thankful he is to hear your voice again, the silence in the room was like torture for him, watching you lie on the bed completely still and there was nothing he could do to help you. But now he has you back and this whole fiasco made him realize that he doesn’t have all the time in the world with you.

Your recovery is faster than expected thanks to Helen’s amazing work. Two days after you woke up you are dismissed and you are back in your own room. Bucky has been by your side all along and you had to send him back to his room during the night because he wanted to sleep in that uncomfortable chair again. Eventually you convinced him to get some sleep but he was already in the room when you woke up in the morning. Now that you are out of medical care he is still following you like a little puppy, ready to do anything you need help with.

“You know, I just have to use my clutch for a few more days, but I’m totally fine,” you chuckle when he helps you put your stuff away arriving back to your room while you lie down.

“I know, but I want to help,” he smiles, nodding shortly. “And… I have something for you,” he then adds with a boyish smile.

“A surprise?”

“An ‘I’m glad you didn’t die during mission’ surprise,” he smirks, making you chuckle. He shuffles out of the room and then returns with a baby blue paper bag in his hands. Walking over to the bed he sits to the edge handing the gift to you.

“When did you have time to buy it? You never even left my side,” you ask with a suspicious look.

“Nat helped me a little,” he admits with a nervous chuckle. You dig into the bag and your fingers find a soft material, making you gasp before you could even see the item. You just already know what it is. Pulling out you’re staring at a white dress, similar to the one you wore at the party the two of you met officially. The one he spilled his drink on and promised to buy a new one.

“Bucky, you shouldn’t have,” you breathe out, eyes softening at the man who is now eyeing you with a gentle look, clearly feeling shy and nervous about the gift.

“I don’t know if you remember it but when we were in the jet I told you I still owe you one,” he explains as you lay the fabric across your legs, smoothing your hand over the silky fabric as you smile to yourself.

“I do remember that. Actually, that’s the last thing I remember.”

“I wanted to keep my word,” he mumbles under his breath.

Pushing yourself up from the bed you are about to head into the bathroom when he stops you in panic.

“Where are you going?” he asks, clearly wanting you to return to bed.

“I’m gonna try it on, don’t you want to see me in it?” you ask coyly and you see his cheeks blushing at your question before he just nods shortly.

It’s a little challenging to put it on, but you manage to succeed, walking out with your clutches, bare feet and your hair in a messy ponytail, but still, Bucky’s breath gets caught in his chest when he sees you. Suddenly, you feel self-conscious about the way you look, especially with the ugly bandages on your thigh that peek out from under the dress. Stepping to the mirror next to your dresser you take a look at yourself, expression hardening when you see that the scar will probably be seen from under most of your dresses once it’s healed. You try to tug the dress down a little to hide the bandage, but there’s no use, it’s showing no matter what.

Bucky realizes what you’re doing and stepping closer to you he takes your hand that’s fumbling with the fabric and keeps it between his palms.

“All my previous battle wounds are hidden somewhere, but this one will be on full display,” you whisper sadly, eyes dropping to the floor. Bucky cups your cheek in his hand and makes you look up into his eyes with a soft smile on his lips.

“It’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

“I know, I just…” you sigh, not even sure what you wanted to say.

“You know, in a way this…” He starts, brushing his fingers through the bandage gently. “This is going to be a reminder for me.”

“A reminder?”

“Yeah,” he nods. “Because I always thought I have all the time in the world with you, but I almost lost you. And I don’t want to waste any more time.”

His hands find your waist, pulling you into his embrace as your palms slide up his arms to the base of his neck. You are both so nervous to be this close without sparring, your heart is beating so fast, he can probably hear it, but he feels the same way.

“If you think of me as just a friend, now might be the best time to tell me,” he whispers with a soft chuckle that makes you smile too. You lean closer, your nose touching his, lips almost brushing against each other.

“You are so much more than that,” you breathe out before he closes the gap between the two of you, kissing you the way he wanted to so many times before.

It’s like the rest of the world stops existing, there’s only you and him, his lips on yours, fingers digging into your waist, flesh and metal ones as well, bunching your dress under his touch as you press up against him, your kisses growing hungrier with each passing moment.

When it’s just about to get a little more heated, someone clears their throat and you are forced to snap back to reality, seeing Steve and Nat standing at the door, watching the two of you grinning widely.

“Just wanted to check on you Y/N to see if you need help with anything, but you clearly have everything you need,” Natasha teases you, making your cheeks heating up as you rest your forehead against Bucky’s shoulder, his arms circling around you tight, hands running up and down your back soothingly.

“Glad to see you finally made your move, Bucky,” Steve nods smirking.

“Alright, alright. The show is over, guys,” Bucky waves them off. Natasha winks at you before leaving the two of you alone.

“We will never hear the end of this,” you growl, your head dropping back, but Bucky just smiles and kisses your forehead sweetly.

“If they keep teasing us we’ll just kick their ass,” he grins making you laugh before you press your lips against his again in a short, chaste kiss.

“Deal.”

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed it!

#bucky #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes one shot #bucky oneshot #bucky one shot #bucky barnes x you #bucky x you #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes fluff #bucky fanfic

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sunder-soul · 4 years ago

Note

first of all your work is AMAZING- like damn that smut? 👀 but anyway- i’ve had this concept for awhile imagine that reader was the one who made the design for the dark mark for tom riddle? like y/n is an artist and likes to draw, paint, all that jazz, and she saw the symbol in like her dreams or something and decided to draw it. and then tommy boy sees it and takes a liking to it like, “...i could use that-“ i don’t if this is a weird ask or not but i thought it was interesting. 🥺👉🏻👈🏻

So this has been in my inbox for so long bc I just couldn’t crack how I wanted to tackle it and then yesterday BOOM I had an idea so here I am!! Hope you enjoy 💖

･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

Consume

Summary: Reader looks into Tom Riddle’s tea leaves on an unlucky day in Divination. Something looks back.

Word count: 1.5k

Content warning: none.

･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

You’ve heard of the domino effect before, but never has it been so grimly demonstrated to you than in that exact moment standing in front of the entire Divination classroom with the only spare seat left opposite Tom bloody Riddle.

It started (or at least, as far as you can tell) an entire week earlier when you’d walked in on Ophelia Greengrass sobbing in the fourth-floor girl’s bathroom during second period. Up until then you’d not spoken more than half a dozen words to Ophelia across your entire time at Hogwarts, but it had felt wrong not to say anything – and as it turned out, Ophelia had been in dire need of someone saying something to her. She’d been dating Lestrange for a little over three months and by the sounds of it things were not going well.

So of course you’d comforted her as best you could but it was hardly surprising when she tentatively approached again you the next day, and the next, and the next, and then every single day for an entire week there had been a new horror story until yesterday you’d finally had enough and told her that she should break up with him.

That, of course, was why he’d confronted you in the corridor that morning on the way to Charms, angrily accusing you of losing him his girlfriend. And that was why you and Lestrange had been caught by Peeves with a watering can full of Bulbadox juice brandished gleefully in his spindly hands.

Which was how you both ended up in the hospital wing for the entirety of first period, Lestrange with boils all over his face and down his back, and you with them on your hands from where you’d managed to shield yourself.

You’d left Lestrange behind complaining loudly as the matron peeled back his school shirt, sprinting all the way up to the Divination tower at breakneck speed, throwing the trapdoor to the classroom open and scrambling inside, the trapdoor falling shut behind you, the very final domino.

“Sorry I’m late, Professor,” you gasp as you spin around to face her. “Peeves caught me and Lestrange!”

The class snickers.

“That’s quite alright, quite alright…” Cassandra Trelawney says, deep and ringing, “we have not yet started, take a seat with Mr Riddle and we shall begin…”

You freeze. Riddle…?

That’s when it hits you.

Lestrange always sat with Riddle in Divination.

And you’re so late that everyone else already has partners.

You turn to see Tom Riddle sitting at the back of the room looking at you with a polite but blank expression on his face. The class giggles again. The vast majority of Hogwarts students are at least somewhat in love with Riddle – beautiful, intelligent, polite Riddle, orphaned and poor but refined and successful. Better yet he barely speaks to anyone, leaving a lot of empty space of endless possibility for people to fill in with their personal daydreams.

He scares you.

Those horrible boys that hang around him remind you of flies hanging around rotting meat. And if they’re the flies, that makes Riddle…

You grit your teeth and step forward, weaving between the other tables and snickering students to take your seat, dropping your bag to the floor and eyeing the tea set on the small table apprehensively.

“Begin your readings!” Trelawney calls.

You frown and turn to Riddle questioningly. “We’re doing tea leaves?”

“Tasseography,” he corrects smoothly, leaning forward and picking up the burnished copper pot with one hand and pouring steaming tea into the little china cup in front of him.

You blink at him silently. There’s something manufactured about his face that you can’t put your finger on.

“Shall I go first or would you like to?” Riddle asks casually, pouring you a cup, too.

“I don’t mind,” you mumble, looking away.

Riddle sets the pot down and picks up his cup in long, elegant fingers, lifting it to his lips. “The instructions are on page seventy-nine,” he says after taking a sip, looking around the room disinterestedly.

You pull out your book and find the right chapter and scan the first few paragraphs as Riddle finishes his tea, sipping absently at your own, and by the time he finally hands you his cup your heart rate has finally returned to normal from running up eight flights of stairs.

“You have a scattered-type formation,” you say, checking it against the diagram on your page, “and it’s north-west oriented.”

“Mhmm,” Riddle says noncommittedly, his dark eyes level on the parchment before him as he takes notes.

You lean forward over Riddle’s cup and frown as you compare it to the pictures in the book. “That looks like shepherd’s crook,” you say, pointing to a cluster shaped like a pinched hook, “which means… either the responsibility to protect, or the exertion of power and authority over a group of people.”

Riddle scoffs very lightly, his lips curling into a slight smirk as he continues to write.

Something about it had clearly struck a chord with him, but you pointedly train your eyes back on your book. “Oh,” you frown, checking his cup again. “Or it’s the old glyph for seven.”

Riddle stops writing. You look up curiously at the sudden lack of his quill scratching evenly on his parchment to find him perfectly still, his eyes on your face. “Seven?” he repeats, tone distinct.

You nod and push your book around to show him. “The number seven used to be drawn like that, too.”

Riddle’s eyes drop to the page and linger there for a moment before he resumes taking his notes – though his expression is much more preoccupied than before.

But something in Riddle’s cup has caught your eye. Beside the shepherd’s crook/number seven is a lump of tea leaves so distinct in form that it’s almost comical – the round of the cranium, the square of a mandible, and gaps in the leaves to indicate two eye sockets.

“Oh,” you say in surprise, pulling your book back around. “Wow, that’s pretty clearly a…”

You trail off, frowning. You’ve noticed the tea leaves below it, the long twisting trail that leads directly into the skull’s mouth. A cold, creeping feeling is curling in your stomach as something about the image before you seems to move, you can almost see the thing writhing, it almost looks like a…

“How are we going?” Trelawney asks, suddenly right beside you.

You jump, looking up at her in panic. “Fine,” you say quickly.

She lifts her brows, assessing you thoughtfully. “Hmm,” she says, before glancing at Riddle. “And you?”

“Fine,” Riddle echoes smoothly. But he’s not looking at Trelawney.

He’s looking at you.

･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

The image worms into your thoughts like a deep root, twisting into places you don’t expect to find it and spreading itself out more and more. The dreams are first, and then the nightmares, and finally the night terrors. The skull hovers before you, its pitch, hollow eyes bore into you, the snake coiling endlessly with its fangs yawning wide.

Something about it is cold and evil, some sort of strange perversion of an ouroboros, the eternal snake broken by the skull’s mouth.

Consuming it.

“What is that?”

Your head snaps up from your parchment feeling like you’ve just been jolted awake from a deep sleep, and it takes you a second to process the sight of Tom Riddle before you, his eyes fixed attentively on the parchment strewn on top of the essay you’re supposed to be writing.

He’d caught you drawing it for the hundredth time.

“Nothing,” you say hastily, sliding it away under a book. “Just a doodle.”

Riddle’s eyes flick to yours. There’s a cold rigidity to his expression that you don’t like. It’s a coldness that feels horribly familiar.

For a moment you almost think he’s going to force you to show him, but after a long moment Riddle looks away and he’s gone, disappearing off further into the library. You exhale in relief and pull out the parchment again.

Drawing it made the thoughts go away for a bit, like manifesting the horrible thing distracted it from its need to live in your head. You lift your quill and carefully write a single word next to the skull.

Consume.

･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

The parchment goes missing the next day.

You never prove that he took it, never even mention it to him, but Riddle’s eyes have a cold glimmer to them when he catches your eye in Divination next, the smallest curl to his lips like he’s daring you to bring it up.

The dreams abruptly stop.

･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

When you see it next, it’s in a photo on the front page of the Daily Prophet beneath a terrified headline, a spectre hovering just like it had in your nightmares at school years prior. Except this time it’s real. This time it’s above the burning remains of the family home of a prominent Muggle-born politician and Voldemort’s name is a shadow on everyone’s lips.

You stare at it on the page, the snake writhing in ink, the black, hollow eyes of the skull, and you think about Tom Riddle’s cold smile watching you from across the classroom, his manufactured beauty, the boys that hung around him like flies around rotten meat.

He’s named it the Dark Mark.

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benoitblanc · 3 years ago

Text

arwen’s peggysous fic rec list!

all right! i posted that i was thinking about making this a while ago and no one actively said “arwen no please stop,” so here we are! i legitimately have a seven-page google doc full of agent carter fic recs, so it was a TRIAL narrowing this down. that being said, i’ve tried to separate this into four categories: fluff, angst, casefic, and character studies.

onward!

fluff:

sleigh ride by sholio. it’s christmastime, and peggy’s present this year is a sighting of dottie underwood back in new york city. if that involves commandeering a central park sleigh into the subway- well, that’s her business, isn’t it?

reception by glorious_spoon. large quantities of alcohol and spies who are supposed to be keeping secrets don’t mix well in the best of times, but what jack’s just let slip might have a bigger fallout than most.

magnolia lane by eienvine. naturally, wherever the carter-sousa household goes, trouble follows, even to an innocent night of bridge and something called tomato soup cake.

creative uses for avocados by irisdouglasiana. there’s absolutely no way i can summarize this one. get your mind out of whatever gutter the title sent it to and just go read the fic. iris is easily the funniest writer on this list, and everything of theirs is a gem.

slightly darker than rosy beginnings by justanotherghostwriter. jack’s sure peggy and daniel are hiding something from him, which is not a comforting suspicion for a guy who’s recently been shot point-blank to have.

a little something by paeonia. peggy and daniel’s next mission: find a bloody decent cup of tea in this godforsaken country.

angst (happy endings may or may not be included):

three deaths by glorious_spoon. two gunshots and a rebar nearly meant the end for our intrepid heroes. what if they did?

jewels on an empty beach by sholio. if it isn’t a woman who can consume people with black space goo from her fingers, it’s a mysterious would-be assassin and a missing file, isn’t it.

secrets by mayfriend. the agents of the ssr are spies; of course they’ll have secrets. even secrets they’ve been trying to hide from each other... and themselves.

the district sleeps alone tonight by em2mb. thirty years after the falls of fenhoff and frost, shield is in its heyday. their most formidable enemy is a soviet assassin who’s practically a ghost story, and he’s got his sights set on an equally formidable target.

they sent forth men to battle, but no such men return by tolkiengirl. edna, look away, because this one features graphic medical inaccuracies following the rebar incident. i KNOW that taking the object doing the impaling out of an impaled person is bad and significantly speeds up the bleeding. we all know. lindsey allen knew when she wrote the damn episode. I DO NOT CARE.

casefic:

trip wire by sholio. when a mission of the bell company’s goes sour, daniel’s forced to help jack defuse a land mine in new jersey... over the phone from california. which would ordinarily be such a piece of cake anyway, but there’s a slight complication: peggy’s standing on the bomb. this is my emotional support carter fic and i adore it.

renegades by inkdust. this is season three. that’s the best summary i can give. it’s season three with a lead-in, should the author ever choose to follow up on it, to a season four. i’m obsessed with absolutely everything about this fic, though i will admit i only skim through the smuttier scenes. but i’m sure those are as well-written as the rest of it, if that’s your thing.

of all the delis in manhattan by irisdouglasiana. a chance encounter with one peggy carter at his father’s place of work might be exactly the opportunity daniel’s been looking for... to take down the italian mafia, of course. what were you thinking he’d do?

worth it by yalu. i can’t do a slightly snarky summary for this one either, because there’s a lot of context you need for a summary to even make sense. worth it holds the probably unique position of being a casefic set DURING season 1 that is technically completely canon compliant. it takes place between blitzkrieg button and iron ceiling, and chronicles dooley sending peggy and daniel undercover to a function of one of howard’s old friends.

in the cold november by sholio. peggy, jack, and daniel are called to upstate new york to investigate claims of a sea monster on a local lake. claims that are completely bullshit... right?

peony and thisbe by aurora_australis. peggy doesn’t regret turning down that offer at the new york ssr branch, though she can’t honestly say that the undercover op phillips sent her on instead is a breeze by comparison. and her mysterious new ssr contact is only complicating matters...

returning the favor by truth_renowned. it’s christmastime, and there’s a mysterious gift under the tree. for anyone who doesn’t have an archnemesis itching for revenge, this wouldn’t pose an issue. unfortunately, this is peggy we’re talking about.

character study:

the first language and the last by shuofthewind. you guys. it’s an agent carter his dark materials au. it’s also ABSURDLY beautifully written. it’s everything i’ve ever wanted in a fic. please read this.

time difference like a lifetime by spatialvoid. bad timing has always been their curse.

the lingering remainders by oh_simone. the avengers are in ruins, and tony has no idea what to do without them. fortunately, an old family friend drops by to put things in perspective.

four chances by inkdust. four christmases spawn four very different conversations between two people at very different places in their own lives.

the lucky ones by irisdouglasiana. a new relationship is always full of surprises, some big, some small.

her bones are made of chaos by anextraordinarymuse. maybe daniel has always been fooling himself.

#arwen.text #marvel #agent carter #peggysous #fic recs

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pascalpanic · 4 years ago

Text

Begin Again (Marcus Pike x f!Reader)

Inspo: Begin Again by Adam Melchor

Summary: Dating apps never pair you with the right people. Until you come across the profile of a handsome, pancake loving FBI agent named Marcus.

W/C: 4.8k

Warnings: lots of talk of food, language, late night deep conversations, some sadness at the end but nothing intense? reader has a pet cat, is that worth a warning? idk

A/N: HI GUYS this is my first full length Marcus Pike fic! I really hope you like it!! thank you so much to @theteddylupinexperience and @sanchosammy for being my best editors and proofreaders and idea givers!!!

note: PLS listen to the song before/after/while reading! it’s one of my favs and it really goes along with the story

Over the course of your adult years, you’ve become convinced that dating apps are complete and utter bullshit. The algorithms never work right, never pair you or any of your friends with anyone worth seeing in person. Maybe that’s just the problem; maybe it’s not the apps but the people. Whatever the answer is, whatever reason you’ve never found success in the endless swiping, you’re through with it.

That was before last week. The rainy Tuesday night left you in your apartment, alone, to succumb to the cold spring dreariness. Over a cup of hot tea, you’d downloaded the app again. Might as well try, right? You have nothing to lose. If worst comes to worst, catfishing an annoying guy is always a blast. The good news is that this app requires you as the woman to make the first move. That’s kind of a downside- you never know how to start conversations- but at least you can’t get unsolicited dick pics right off the bats. Life is full of tradeoffs, you suppose.

You begin again. The app becomes your favorite pastime. Bored at work or home? Dating app it is. Left. Left. Left. Boring man after boring man. One labeled himself super-straight: absolutely fucking not. One holding a fish: nope. A man who describes himself as a gym rat: not your type. It’s a boring way to spend your lunch break, you’re aware, but the entertainment value is fun if nothing else. There are a lot of strange men out there.

After a few days, your luck seems to turn around as the photo of a man with brown hair and warm brown eyes pops up on your screen. He has a scruffy beard and wavy hair, and the way his smile tugs at the corner of his lips makes your heart flutter. He’s really cute, you have to admit. You read the bio next.

Marcus, 35

❗️ Washington, D.C.

Got forced into making this, but optimistic. Lover of art, dogs, and time to relax. Always down for breakfast for dinner and cuddling. Looking for someone with a sense of independence, love of travel, and a sleep schedule equally fucked up as mine. Must love pancakes.

Must love pancakes. That’s absolutely adorable. You immediately think of your cat, named Pancake, and you laugh and swipe right, hoping the man already thought the same of you. Your eyes widen with excitement and you almost laugh out loud from your giddy state when you see the little logo indicating it’s a match.

The first message you send him has to be perfect. You ponder your options for a minute, frowning and furrowing your brow as you think. You don’t want to come on too strong; you’re not trying to sound like you want a hookup. A simple one-word greeting wouldn’t be enough.

You could comment on something from his bio, you realize as you read it again and again. Maybe ask him about his dog? No, that’s too awkward. You want it to be about him, something that can draw him in. Talk about traveling? No, you don’t want to sound like you’re bragging about the places you’ve gone in your life.

Pancakes. Pancakes are good. You love pancakes. You think for a second more, debating what to say, before inspiration strikes and you send off the message before you can stop yourself.

Marcus Pike has essentially felt the same as you. He’s a somewhat charming man. He’s had his fair share of relationships, but they never quite work out. His ex-wife, now long gone and blocked from his phone, was an absolute failure of a relationship. He’d gotten close to what felt like true love with Teresa, another FBI agent, but she flaked at the last second.

Maybe the constant here was that he met them in person. When Marcus falls, he falls hard and fast, down an endless spiral of emotions with no escape. Maybe if he met someone online, it would be different. His best friends had all encouraged it, and on a night out not long after Teresa left him, Pike set up his own profile. He liked that the app didn’t require him to make the first move. It’s refreshing.

Marcus had seen your profile hours ago, on a mindless phone break from his work. He’d swiped right too, stunned by your smile and the lovelines you radiated even through the phone. He crossed his fingers for a good part of the day, hoping you’d swipe right on him too.

His day is busy, leaving him no time to fiddle with his phone and distract himself. He eats in the cafeteria, checking up on his phone. After lunch, he’s walking back to his office when his heart flutters as he sees the dating app indicates he’s had a match. He looks at it and swallows hard before stopping, moving to the side of the hallway to allow others to pass. He’s breathing hard, and his heart speeds up when he sees that you are the one that matched with him.

He knows how this app works. He has to wait now, to let you make the first move. He can’t even write a message until you send one. So he pockets his phone again and continues on his walk.

He’s determined on his walk, rushing back to his desk so he can sit and be thoroughly enthralled in waiting for or receiving your response. His phone buzzes several times with notifications, one of which he prays is you. When he finally sits, he opens the app ceremoniously and has to hold back a genuine laugh when he sees your first message.

Blueberry or chocolate chip?

Marcus shoots back a text nearly immediately. Sorry, what?

Your bio. “Must love pancakes”. Blueberry or chocolate chip?

Marcus is absolutely beaming as he leans back in his chair, crossing his legs. Blueberry. Always. I hope that’s the right answer :)

Unfortunately, it’s not, but you’re cute so I’ll let it slide

You called him cute. It makes Marcus’s heart flutter. Come on. There’s nothing like the warm blueberry popping in your mouth.

There is. It’s when the chocolate chips are all melty and creamy.

God, Marcus is already painfully into you. You know what… at least you love pancakes. I’ll let it slide. You got a favorite place?

Anywhere I can get ‘em. You seem like quite the connoisseur, do you have one place in mind?

Jane slams down a stack of files on Marcus’s desk. “Paperwork overflow, Pike. Can you get these done tonight?”

Marcus is the fastest in the office with paperwork, which often leads to him being the one that flies through the files in the place of the people who actually filed it. He nods. What else is there to do? “Sure.”

Jane claps him on the shoulder and wanders off. Marcus watches him in slight annoyance. The best place in D.C. is definitely Sandy’s. Hey I gotta go, text ya later?

I’d love that :)

It didn’t take long for your texting to move from the dating app to actual texting. It happened within the same day, in fact.

Marcus messaged you some hours after the initial conversation. Your phone buzzed while you were doing yoga in your apartment, your cat curled into a ball beneath your stomach as you held a downward dog. You nearly collapsed on top of Pancake as you fumbled to sit cross-legged on the end of your yoga mat.

The message from Marcus is bright on the top of your screen. Hi. Sorry that took so long. Work stuff.

Smiling, you take a swig from your water bottle and lean back against your couch. Not a problem. Understandable. What do you do for a living? It’s a loaded question in D.C.; they could range anywhere from politicians to their rich sons to artists and athletes.

I work for the FBI, actually.

Your eyes light up in excitement. That’s the coolest shit I’ve heard. What do you do? Are you an agent?

The man’s responses don’t take long at all. He must be waiting in the chat to respond. The idea makes your heart flutter. Yep, I’m an agent. I work in international art crimes.

You certainly didn’t expect that for an answer. Wow, okay, that’s even cooler than I thought. I was about to call you Agent Pancake but I think my girl would be disheartened...

Snapping a photo of the way Pancake is nuzzling into your side, meowing for snuggles, you have to laugh as you send the photo his way. Funny you love pancakes so much. This little muppet is named Pancake.

Marcus responds with a barrage of heart-eyes emojis, which makes you laugh aloud and scoop Pancake into your lap, stroking her strawberry-blonde fluff. She’s an absolute angel. Like her mother, I’m presuming.

Your cheeks flood with warmth and you can feel the tips of your ears turning hot too. You’ve never even met me, Agent…? You trail off the text, asking for his last name.

Pike.

Agent Marcus Pike. What a nice sounding name. It sounds official and strong and you really like it. Cute last name. Might steal it from ya someday ;)

You don’t normally flirt this shamelessly, but he’s so goddamn cute and funny. You cross your fingers behind your back that this isn’t just a facade, that this is Marcus himself texting like he would to anyone else. You got a phone number?

As you laugh, Pancake paws at your chest to grab your attention, nails nearly digging into the stretchy fabric of your yoga tank top. “Watch it,” you scold her softly and remove her paw from your chest, picking her up and giving her a kiss on the head. Sure do. You want it?

Yes please.

You send your number his way and moments later, your phone pings with a text from an unlabeled number.

Maybe: Pike: hey, it’s Pike :)

You: hey… dammit, I really want to call you Agent Pancakes, but I think my fluffy little heathen would be offended. I don’t know what to save you in my phone as...

Agent Pancakes: Save me as whatever, I suppose. Not my problem, right?

The texts became more frequent. Over the course of three weeks, you’d stay up late talking like teenagers, knowing you need to go to bed but unable to bring yourself to do it.

You learned that his middle name was Mauricio, that his mother wanted him to have at least something a little more Latino in his name. You told him the story of how you’d adopted Pancake as a kitten from a shelter and she woke you up one morning with her claws entwined in a snarl of your hair. He told you about his ex-wife and ex-fiancée, Teresa, and you responded that he deserved something better than that. You can already tell that he’s a good man.

At the end of three weeks, you shot Marcus a text. Things seemed to be going pretty well.

You: Hey, you want to do a video call sometime soon?

Agent Pancakes: I’d love that! I’m free tonight if you are.

You: Always free. Shouldn’t you know that?? Doesn’t the FBI spy on us through our phones and whatever?

Agent Pancakes: well, I do work in art crimes. Even if we did, it would be a totally different thing

You: Good.

An hour later, you fidget with your hands as you sit on your couch, the laptop propped up across from you and ringing for a video chat. Marcus’s profile picture bobs on the screen as you wait for him to pick up.

Marcus’s face and apartment fills your screen, and you automatically grin. “Hi,” you giggle and wave, absolutely enraptured by how cute his real smile is, not the forced one in the photos.

“Hey. Nice to kind of-finally meet you,” he tells you and waves back. The wall of his apartment is nothing exciting, but his facial expressions already have you falling. Those big brown eyes compliment natural but ridiculously pink lips, and his brown hair is neatly done. It looks like he’s wearing a tie and a dress shirt; probably his work gear, you suppose.

“You too!” You tell him, unable to stop smiling. “You shaved.”

Marcus’s heart jumps out of his chest when he sees you ringing him. He barely has time to flop on the couch and turn it on, propping up the camera across from him.

God, you’re so gorgeous. Your giggle is infectious, making Marcus laugh softly at god knows what. Your grin is equally as contagious, making him smile back. He rubs his jaw in response. “Yeah, yeah. I tend to keep it clean there. Stubble takes too much maintenance, and I have this little patch where it never quite grows,” he tells you as he juts his chin to the camera, touching the spot where his beard can’t grow.

“I like it either way,” you assure him, shrugging a little. “How was your day, Agent Pancakes?” Your voice is the most beautiful thing he’s ever heard, even with the granulated audio over this shitty app. Agent Pancakes makes his heart flutter. “No, not you!” You groan as Pancake climbs onto your lap. “Hi. Your twin wants to say hi.”

Marcus’s smile widens. “Oh my god, hello cutie pie,” he chuckles, launching into baby talk. “What a pretty girl. You make a good Pancake.”

You smile and rub her fur, grinning. “She’s my baby,” you chuckle and set her aside. “Yeah. I’m busy. Leave me alone.” Pancake meows in protest. “Shut up, I’m on a date,” you whine.

Marcus’s ears perk up. “This is a date?”

Your eyes widen as you turn back to him. “I… yeah?” You ask, wincing a little.

He grins back at you. “I like it. And I’m really in love with the idea of seeing your face when you talk.”

“I like your voice,” you flirt back, but you mean it. “It’s so pretty. Do you sing?” You ask mindlessly, studying the way his brow furrows and his eyes convey exactly what he’s thinking.

He chuckles softly. “I used to. I haven’t in a long long time.”

“You’ll have to sing for me sometime.”

When he shakes his head, his neatly gelled hair tries to break free. A strand does, falling in his face. “You don’t wanna hear it, I promise.” He removes his tie, and you can’t help but watch the movement. It’s incredibly sexy.

A mischievous smile makes you bite the inside of your cheek. “No, I really do, I really think I do.”

Marcus rolls his eyes. “Only if you try the pancakes at Sandy’s sometime. I promise you, they’re the best pancakes in the District. I’ve never had the chocolate chip pancakes, but if they’re anywhere near as good as the blueberry, they’re fantastic. And they’re open 24 hours. I go there a lot for late night case work.”

You smile at that, getting cozy on your couch and hugging your blanket. “That does sound nice. I love a good all day breakfast,” you say with raised eyebrows, the teasing in your voice. “Okay, human Pancakes. How was your day?” You ask him again, intent on hearing his answer. Not only is his job fascinating, but he’s adorable when he explains things.

Marcus frowns, and that makes you instinctively frown too. “Well, it’s been good. We’re tracking a huge smuggling ring right now, but since we’ve pinpointed a stock house for them, I might have to travel for a while.”

You frown. You’d been hoping you could have a real date soon, at least. “How long is a while?” You ask him curiously, sipping from your water bottle that sits next to you.

“Couple weeks. No less than a month, probably. I’d… well, I might have to go undercover, which means we couldn’t talk for a while.” His eyes are apologetic, showing that he hates this news as much as you do. “And… I’d leave maybe tomorrow or the day after.”

Your heart sinks. “So soon,” you say with a sad smile, a desperate and lonely chuckle. “Well, if you want to come home to me, I’ll be here.”

Marcus’s smile perks up just slightly. “You would be the best thing in the world to come home to. And I’ll have the scruff back by then.”

“Yes!” You exclaim and laugh, pumping a fist in the air. “I think you’re really cute anyway, but I really love the scruff,” you shrug shyly.

“Maybe I’ll grow it out just for you.”

The adrenaline from his first technical-date with you prevents Marcus from sleeping. The call lasted hours, the two of you covering almost everything important in your lives. You talked about your favorite television programs and politics, your parents and your favorite pizza toppings. Talking with him was like nothing you’d ever experience, a connection you’d never thought a dating app could offer.

After several hours, during a lull in the conversation, Marcus suggested the two of you log off. It was around 11 P.M. now, and, even though Marcus has a sleep schedule like a raccoon, he figured you should sleep. He blew you a kiss through the camera, which you pretended to hold to your chest and grin at him.

But now it’s an hour later, just past midnight, and Marcus is antsy. He doesn’t sleep much anyway, but your face is running through his mind like it owns the place, and at this point, maybe you do. Marcus sits up in bed and sighs. He knows the proper remedy for this: Sandy’s. Throwing on a rare pair of jeans and a leather jacket over the white v-neck he wears, he slips on his shoes and makes his way to the tiny, 24-hour diner.

The adrenaline is coursing through your veins too. You text any of your friends that will listen, rambling about how beautiful Marcus’s face is and how wonderful it was to finally hear his voice. You pace your apartment, petting Pancake as you pass her perch on the arm of your couch. You try to do a little yoga to calm down but you can’t stop smiling. Marcus occupies too much room in your brain to try to think about anything else.

When it’s just after midnight, hunger strikes. You realize you never ate dinner, too preoccupied with talking to the handsome man to even consider microwaving something from your fridge. Talking with Marcus has instilled you with a love for pancakes, and you think to yourself that maybe Sandy’s would be worth a shot. It’s open late.

So you toss on a jacket and pick up your purse, slinging it over your shoulder and leaving your apartment. You toss the book you’ve been reading into your bag, planning to read it while you sit and eat. Pancake gives a sleepy meow of protest but you just smile and lock the door behind you.

The diner is just as small as Marcus described it to you: just a short line of booths along the windows and a smattering of tables in the middle. There’s a colorful, warm-toned tile floor that juxtaposes the warm green of the walls and the smell of fresh coffee and pancakes wafting through the air. Quiet classic swing music filling the atmosphere. You can see why he likes it: it automatically makes you smile.

You sit in one of the booths, facing away from the door, and the kind waitress takes your order: chocolate chip pancakes and an English breakfast tea. The air conditioning is blasting, making you chilly. You tighten your jacket around yourself and sip the tea when it arrives, adding cream and sugar.

Cracking open the book, you cross your legs and lose yourself in the book. The restaurant has a calming aura, and you can feel the tea warming you from the inside. It’s fitting that Marcus loves this place, you think to yourself.

When the pancakes come not long after, you take a bite and almost groan in happiness. It’s absolutely delicious: Marcus was most definitely right. Disappointingly, you have to go to the bathroom about three bites in.

Even the bathrooms are cute, you discover. When you return, someone else sits a booth away, another lone diner at this godforsaken hour of night, facing the door. You can see the back of what appears to be a man’s head, neatly trimmed brown hair and a brown leather jacket over their neck and shoulders. Sitting back down, your back to the other customer’s, you return to your book and continue to eat your chocolate chip pancakes.

The customer and waitress are talking, but you don’t pay much attention, too enraptured by your book. It’s quiet again after the man puts in his order, and you enjoy the soft jazz music that makes you tap your foot in time against the tile.

There’s a buzzing and the melodic sound of a phone’s ringtone; one of the defaults that a phone provides. Your heart skips a beat as you hear the man pick up. “Agent Pike.”

That can’t be your Agent Pike, can it? You turn and listen and realize it’s definitely him, from his voice and the way he holds himself and the stack of- of course, blueberry pancakes and a hot coffee set in front of him.

“Yeah. Yeah. Okay. Sounds good. Let me write that down.” Marcus types something into his phone. “See you then. At the office? Good. Alright, see you.” He hangs up.

Standing, you tuck your book back in your purse and put the bag over your shoulder. With one hand, you grab your plate of pancakes, and the other grabs your tea. You set them down across from him and slide into the booth, grinning. “Huh. Agent Pancakes, here, in the middle of the night. How unusual.”

Marcus’s tired face lights up in excitement. “What?” He laughs, his eyes scanning your face. “Why are you here?”

You shrug and take a bite of his pancakes, sighing. “Had to see if they were worth the hype. I couldn’t sleep, you got me so excited.” The blueberry pancakes are absolutely fantastic, just as good if not better than the chocolate chip ones on your plate. “Damn, you were right.”

“Hey,” he laughs and pulls his plate closer to his chest. “Don’t touch my pancakes.”

You make pleading pouty eyes, frowning a little. “Can’t we share?” You tease. It already feels like you’ve known him for years, even though this is your first time seeing him in person.

Marcus sighs. “I suppose,” he says and rolls his eyes in sarcasm, pushing his plate back out so you can access it.

Marcus is beyond stunned, absolutely enraptured in how beautiful you are in person. If he thought he fell on that video call earlier, he’s now reached the very bottom of that cliff, the impact of your everything stealing the air from his lungs. God, he wants nothing more than to kiss you right now, on those lips coated in blueberry juice and maple syrup.

The two of you spend quite some time so there, just talking and continuing the conversation where it left off before. The waitress refills Marcus’s coffee twice and your tea once. “So who called you when you were sitting alone?” You ask him as you bring the white porcelain mug to your lips, sipping at the creamy tea.

He sighs. “Guy I work with, his name’s Patrick. He’s a douchebag, I can’t lie,” he says with a chuckle, and his heart flutters at the way you give a soft laugh back. “Just telling me the details. I leave in about 6 hours. I’ll be in Singapore for a couple of weeks.”

“Singapore?” You exclaim, eyes wide as your fork clanks against your plate. “You better be able to contact me.”

He shakes his head. “I told you, I’m going undercover. I can’t.” He sighs, and he dares to reach out and touch you, to reassure you that he’s there and himself that you’re real, that you’re right there. “Will you wait for me?”

Your heart melts, from an already slush-covered river to a rushing rapids. “Of course, Marcus.” It makes his heart skip a beat. You’ve called him lots of nicknames, but never his real name. Something is painfully intimate about it. “I like you a lot; why wouldn’t I?” You ask, shrugging as if it’s the simplest thing. “Distance makes the heart grow fonder.”

When you finish your meals, Marcus picks up both tabs, despite your protesting. “Can I walk you to your place?” He asks as you both stand and adjust your jackets.

You nod and take his hand. The lights of the city are seemingly extra dim tonight, leaving the street lights to illuminate your beautiful face as the two of you stroll along. You have all the time in the world, don’t you? It’s 1:30 in the morning. You’re both already evading sleep desperately. A little more time together can’t hurt.

His hand never leaves yours, his fingers lacing through your knuckles. You chat quietly, as if you could wake the sleeping city from the peaceful blue drone of a weeknight morning into its daily splendor of horns and hordes of speedy pedestrians.

Marcus bumps your shoulder with his, making you stumble a little to the side and laugh as you look up at his gorgeous face. His face reflects the love you’re both feeling, almost giving the city around you a pink glaze of warmth from the rose-colored glasses you must have placed over his eyes.

The walk draws to an end, as you stand at the entrance to your apartment building. Marcus’s body looks so soft and inviting, and you dare to wrap your arms around his neck and hug him to your chest. “I don’t want you to go, Agent Pancakes,” you murmur into the soft skin of his neck, which is starting to get a shadow of stubble.

Marcus kisses the top of your head. He doesn’t move either, prolonging this time you have together before he can’t see you. “I don’t want to go. I’ve never wanted to stay here more than I do now, but I have to.” His arms wrap around your waist, strong and safe.

Lifting your head, you look up at him, your noses practically touching from the proximity you share. The world feels like a bubble around you two, like some impenetrable one-way material that makes it so if Marcus leaves now, he can never come back. “Well, it’s gonna be a long time, a month or two,” you say with a sad smile. “We’ll have to begin again.”

Marcus shakes his head, his brown eyes almost welling with tears. “There’s no one else I’d want to begin again with.” With that, he looks in your eyes, the question hanging there. Wait for me?

Always, you respond silently by pressing your lips to his, kissing him slowly in the orange glow of your apartment building’s entrance. He kisses back, his lips tasting of coffee and maple and blueberry, yours tasting like chocolate and tea.

You squeeze your arms tighter around him, getting on your tiptoes to be as physically close as you can to him. He has one hand on either side of your rib cage, holding you there as he kisses back with all of the passion and love he has.

It can’t last too long or he’ll never leave. He won’t be able to. He breaks away after a few moments, his lips close to yours. He presses your foreheads together, arms encircling you again. “I have to go. I have to be at the office in an hour.”

You lift your head and your brow furrows in confusion. “Then why did you take so long to walk and eat with me?” You laugh quietly.

Marcus shrugs. “Didn’t want to leave you yet,” he admits, his eyes trained on yours. He gives you one last painfully gentle kiss. “I’ll miss you.”

“I’ll miss you more,” you say with a sad smile. “You’ve been my distraction lately. Whenever I’m bored, I text you.”

He sighs, the confession increasing his frown. “I’ll be in an entirely new place, without you.”

“But I’ll be here, in my same old life without you in it.”

The words punch a hole through Marcus’s heart. It’s true; he’ll have new distractions, new things to do. You’ll be here with a Marcus Pike-shaped hole in your heart. He kisses your forehead, the wheels turning in his head. “If you get a call in the next few weeks from an unknown number, be sure to answer it, okay?”

You nod and smile softly. “You need to go. Go.”

He nods and his hand squeezes yours. “I can’t wait to begin again with you.” With that, Marcus Pike, Agent Pancakes, whatever you want to call him, the man you’re highly suspecting might be your soulmate, walks off into the slightly chilly D.C. night.

taglist:

@remmysbounty @mishasminion360 @blo0dangel @binarydanvvers @sleep-tight1 @apascalrascal @randomness501 @spideysimpossiblegirl @notabotiswear @pedro-pastel @sanchosammy @lv7867 @greeneyedblondie44 @hunnambabe @astoryisaloveaffair @emesispo @pedritobalmando @magikfanatic

#marcus pike #marcus pike x reader #marcus pike headcanons #pedro pascal #jose pedro balmaceda pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal x reader #the mentalist #the mentalist fanfiction #begin again

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asterroidd · 4 years ago

Text

fragment in time

↬ Reincarnation/Soulmate AU

—Wherein past lovers would always find each other in a different life.

↬ Pairing: Levi Ackerman/Reader

↬ Word count: 4.4k

↬ Synopsis: Perhaps in another lifetime, you and Levi would finally be together.

↬ not proofread, capn’ :’)

The smell of blood wafted through the air. Screams of terror of fallen soldiers plagued your senses as man-eating-giants unhinged their jaws, their large teeth sinking down into the soft flesh of your comrades. Their blood splattered around, your terrified eyes watching each and every one in your squad being eaten alive by the titans.

It was a simple mistake, an error created by the supposed messenger from the other squad of soldiers reporting in to inform you of the titan wreaking havoc amongst the lands to the west. You took them upon their word, heeding into the information, and as such steered the squad towards the east to avoid the chaos.

But they were supposed to say east. East was where the giant beasts are.

Which brings you back to today's scene, wherein you are badly injured—and perhaps internally bleeding—with an aberrant titan desolating your men.

Biting down your cheeks, you groaned in pain as you adjusted yourself into a sitting position. Hands flying down to your stomach in attempts to stop the bleeding caused by a titan that caught you earlier. You were in death's door—a foot in the grave you have dug yourself in ever since you signed up to be a soldier in the Survey Corps—ready to embrace the sweet release of death that would finally rid you of this hellish world. That is until one of your men saved you, slicing the fingers that are wrapped around your torso and harshly tossed you to the side and out of harm's way.

You froze in horror, unable to recover your mental state after being a hair's width to cessation.

"Lieutenant (____)! Take my horse and esca—" was their last words before the titan bit of their head. The beast looming over their figure, a sickening grin adorned their face as saliva trickled down its chin. It let out a small grunt of pleasure, gulping down the severed head of your comrade. Their lifeless body slowly slumped down until they fell with a thud against the grass. Dirt mixed with fresh blood dirtied their pristine white shirt they wore along with the Survey Corps uniform.

You felt so useless. . .so powerless.

The scene played inside your thoughts like a broken record playing in repeat. Over and over again. . .

It was a nightmare much worse than those you have in your sleep. No. . . this is reality. This was actually happening right before your eyes. With a shaky hand, you brought it up to cup your cheek, smearing blood all over it as you lightly pinched yourself to confirm that you are actually awake and are not simply dreaming.

You wanted to save your squad—your friends whom you trained and joked with back inside the walls. The very same people who were assigned to you by Erwin. But you couldn't bring yourself to do it.

Your body wouldn't budge.

It was as if fate was tricking with you—letting time slow down for you to witness the horrific scene before you. You wanted to take a break, just a brief moment to recollect your thoughts and congregate yourself to fight back against the titans. You wanted to fight back; to slice the nape of the titan that killed most of your squad. But you find yourself unable to. Shoulders slumping down in defeat, eyes swimming with salty tears, and mouth so dry like those desserts Armin spoke of.

As the titan's hands hover above, your life flashed before you. Recounting your most joyous moments from childhood to adulthood. Like that one time your mother gave you a hand-sewn doll for your birthday. Or when you got accepted to the Survey Corps despite your family's protests.

You'll die a terrible death, they say. It's safer inside the walls.

But you defied them, enlisting your name the moment it was announced that the military branch was recruiting a new set of soldiers for the next expedition happening in a few months. Your first time outside the walls was different.

Instead of puking everywhere and shaking in your horse, you felt strangely calm and excited. Not only that but you also easily killed the titans coming your way. Which in return shocked the higher-ups and eventually gave you your own squad a few months later due to your pure skill.

But perhaps the most memorable event in your life was meeting your fiance, Levi Ackerman. You met him a few years back—when he was still a fresh new recruit just like you. His skills with the 3d maneuver gear were no joke. The male looked so graceful whilst swinging from tree to tree. Moving as fast as sound as he sliced off the napes of giant beasts that dared come close to him.

You idolized him at first—looking up to him in astonishment and hopes that one day, you would also possess the same prowess as him. Perhaps being on par with him in speed and killing titans was your goal. And so you set out to accomplish that ambition of yours; training every day until you pass out from exhaustion, harnessing your skills in hand-to-hand combat, and of course, improving your technique in using the 3d maneuver gear.

That surely got his interest, because months later Levi started to acknowledge you more. Whether it was a simple nod and greeting when both of you passed each other in the hallways. Visiting you in your room when he knew a friend of yours died during the expedition. And of course, Levi bringing you tea to your office in the wee hours of the morning whilst you are drowning in piles and piles of paperwork.

Before you knew it, you and he confessed to each other one night. You remembered it as clear as day. There were no clouds that moment, letting the moon shine brightly and provide light to the dimmest corners of the base. The stars were also out, glimmering in a rhythmic pattern that you grew to love.

I think I have feelings for you. . .romantic ones, you first confessed to him. Your hands bawled up in a tight fist, your eyes screwed shut, and heart hammering against your chest in anticipation of his answer. Much to your delight, he reciprocated your feelings.

That's good to hear, you swore there was a small smile. I feel the same way.

You relish in the memories of you and Levi inside his office. Every activity with him makes your heart swell and heat rush to your face. Being with Levi makes you forget the horrors of the world offers and instead replace it with comfort and blissful moments. Whether it was a simple trip downtown, spontaneous cuddle sessions when no one was around, and of course the pleasure-filled occasions with him behind the closed door of his office.

You treasured every moment inside your heart. And you would do whatever it takes to experience those once again.

What you were going to do was obviously a suicide mission—you should've just taken a horse just like what your comrade said. But you are one stubborn one.

Despite your body screaming in pain and agony, you won't die in vain. No, you'll stand up and fight back. Levi is expecting you to return back home intact and alive. You fired the hooks in a nearby tree, reeling yourself towards it before releasing it. There was a brief moment you're flying in the air. Everything was silent save for you hearing your own clamoring heartbeat against your rib cage. You've managed to escape in the nick of time, the titan's fists closing in the area where you once were. You could've died right then and there if it weren't for you acting quickly.

Your eyes clouded with rage, you fired the hooks once again, only this time to the nape of the beast. In one fell swoop, its nape detached itself from the rest of the body. A grunt escaped past your lips, an electric-like shot of pain coursed your veins. Air whistled past your ears as your velocity pushed you towards the side. Somehow in the process of killing the titan, its blood splattered on your face as well clothes.

With immediate effect, mind you, as small wisps of smoke emerged from your clothes. A sign that the blood is vaporizing. You kept your eyes low, staring at the gaping mouth of the now-deceased beast. Within a few minutes, its once strong skin would disintegrate. Turning into piles of bones that, if given more time, would also fall apart. Like a bubble bursting into nothingness once in contact with air.

You let out a small sigh of relief, letting your knees buckle and come in contact with the ground. It was a miracle that you could move despite your wounds.

Though, you celebrated all too early.

A shiver went down your spine as you heard the loud thumping behind. You whipped your head to the sound, eyes widening as a titan much bigger than the one you have killed was making its way towards you. Their mouth was stretched in an eerie smile, body covered with blood—with what you presumed was human's from another group of soldiers. Perhaps it heard the commotion and as such ventured towards the sound.

"Shit. . ." you cursed, finally realizing that you were out of gas and the blades are dull. The horses, as you observed earlier, were injured and some ran away. Even the one your comrade left for you was long gone, nowhere to be seen.

You imagined death so much it feels like a memory. Is this where it gets you? On your knees while the titan several feet ahead of you. You see it coming as clear as day, the surroundings a blur as you fixed attention on the beast. Do you run? Do you scream? Do you close your eyes and accept death? Though, you knew all too well that with your cracked ribs and injury, you wouldn't run as far.

You chose the latter.

Hands releasing the blades, you closed your eyes as you embraced the impending death.

When the titan wrapped its fingers around your finger, you kept your mouth shut. Not even a scream escaping past. Your breath hitched, breathing in the godawful stench as the beast opened its mouth. Perhaps salivating at the thought of gnawing at your flesh.

A choice with no regrets, that is what Levi said. True, you had a lot of regrets throughout your life, but you would never regret meeting him and enjoying every moment with him. Even if it was brief and shortcoming, you cherished it. Though, you truly did hope you would see his face once again. To relish under his touch. To hear his voice once more. Oh, how you wished you bid farewell before you take your final breath.

You cried in pain as its teeth slowly sunk into your flesh, your lower half of the body bit by bit being detached from the rest. Tears streamed down your cheeks. This was finally it. The moment wherein you would take your last breath and leave this hellish reality.

That is, until a strong gust of wind passed by.

"(____)!!" you knew the voice all too well. It was Levi's.

You opened your eyes, realizing now that the male had successfully killed the beast and is now carrying you in his arms. He was breathing heavily, his chest rising up and down vehemently. "You—" he started. Fear danced in his eyes, perhaps tears clouding his vision despite his attempts to keep it at bay. It was a rare sight to see Levi crying, usually, only a handful of people get to witness it. That said, you were always the one to comfort him in his darkest nights.

Levi carefully set you down, letting you lay down on the grass. "Don't you dare close your eyes, (____)!!" he pleaded. Hands clasping your shoulder blades.

"The others are coming this way—" he fought back a sob. "Just—just keep your eyes open long enough."

But you and he knew all too well that the deep gash in your abdomen as a result of the titan sinking its teeth is far too severe to be treated. The damage has already been done, it would be magic if the medic could heal you. Still, Levi clung to that hope that you would survive. That you would be back in the walls with him just in time for the wedding to happen after the expedition.

Levi was frantic. Unsure of what to do in seeing you in such a state he knew would be far-fetched to heal.

A minute.

He deduced that with your injury and blood continuously pouring out, you would still have a minute or two with him before you leave for good. Levi hated the thought of losing you. He blamed himself for letting you separate from him for this mission. So when he was informed that a titan wreaked havoc upon you and your squad, Levi did not think twice in changing directions in order to check up on you.

If only he was fast enough. If only he could turn back the time so Levi could save you in the nick of time before the titan drilled its teeth unto your flesh. But he knew all too well that what has happened has already been done. So for one last time, he'll make sure that the time spent with you would leave no regrets.

In contrast to him, love and mirth danced in your eyes, sparkling like a radiant summer sun glistening and being reflected on a puddle of water. Carefully and somewhat sluggish, you raised your hand to cup Levi's cheeks. Your thumb caressing his skin that you love oh so much.

"I'm glad I could see your face one last time. . ." you murmured under your breath, too weak to raise your voice.

Levi tightened his grip on your shoulders, this is it. The moment he'll lose another loved one yet again. "Save your energy. Don't you dare leave me," he spat.

"Levi. . ." you chuckled despite the pain. "You and I both know that I wouldn't make it in time. . ."

His broken expression made you wish this was all a dream.

"So. . ." you trailed off. "Just hold my hand, please?"

You blinked as black spots danced in her eyes. You were getting sleepy though ironically your body can't rest. The pain in your lower half was gone but when you tried moving, the pain emerged again. It somehow finds a way to wake you up. It was as if fate knew to keep you awake just to have one final moment with your beloved.

Levi closed his eyes, finally accepting reality and abiding by your request. With shaky hands, he clasped yours quite harshly. He was not ready to lose you.

"I'll see you in another time. . ." he slowly spoke. "We'll meet each other again and I'll find you."

One tear slid down your cheek, "Yeah. . . See you."

You woke up with a start, eyes flying open and you gasping for breath.

The room was dark, save for the small light given by the sun which was shielded by the floral curtain. A blue vase etched with gold ethnic marks and aster flowers in it sat at the windowsill. The first thing you registered was the feeling of cotton against your skin and the dark surroundings of your room. Slowly, you moved into a sitting position, your body feeling light as if you are floating in thin air.

That dream of yours had been reoccurring more often, plaguing your thoughts every night as you hit the haystack and welcome the sweet embrace of sleep—as if some outward forces want to tell you something.

You were in a trance—fog clouding your brain as you recalled. Distantly, your fingers ran over the soft cotton blanket, you can't help but feel like you were forgetting something.

Something important.

It was odd enough that giant naked men are desolating the lands; eating every human that comes across its way. But the thought of actually fighting it using a device far too technical for you to understand is what makes it absurd. That one particular scene keeps replaying over and over again when you sleep. You are confused—flabbergasted even. Though, it could only point to one answer.

It was a hand maiden's tale. A story passed down from generation to generation that the person constantly reappearing in your dreams was your soulmate. Though you wanted to believe that, it was a slim chance that it could actually be true. For starters, you were not a superstitious person—you believed in facts and data instead of made-up tales by who knows who. Still, something deep inside you was screaming that the male in your dreams was your destined beloved.

So as you strolled down the halls of the campus, you can’t help but let your thoughts drift off to the dream that incessantly appears at night. It was yet another day of you visiting the library to check if there are any new books added to the catalog. It may seem a nerd-ish move, but who could blame you? Thousands upon thousands of books right at your fingertips that you could easily access for free. Who wouldn’t want free books?

The soft beep of the monitor lets you know that your ID card has been scanned and as such recorded that you have, yet again, visited the library. As you stepped inside the room, there are a couple of students slumped over the tables. Their laptops opened, notes sprawled out, and multiple pens scattered around. Despite the obvious studious set-up, half of them are on their phone or sleeping. Talk about slacking off.

Shaking your head, you opted to walk straight into the fiction section where you spend most of your time scouring each shelf in search of a new adventure. Though, you halted momentarily as an unfamiliar figure came into view. They were searching for something—at least that is what you presumed given their furrowed eyebrows and the occasional curse underneath their breath.

It is such a rare sight to see someone other than you in the fiction aisle. Mainly since most students would be in other sections searching for biographies, dissertations, and old literature stuff that would aid them in their studies. At first, you thought it was Arlert, the freshman you met a couple of months back when both of you happen to stumble upon each other. The male happens to be searching for a specific sci-fi book. Luckily, you had practically memorized each shelf in the fiction section. As such, you helped him find the novel he desires. Before you knew it, you and he had become close friends that would occasionally talk to each other about books both of you enjoy.

But that isn’t the case this time. Armin’s iconic blond hair wasn’t in sight. Instead, onyx black in an undercut hairstyle is what greeted you. Wait a minute—he exactly looks like the male in your dreams.

You stepped closer, quiet as to not disturb or startle him. When you got close to the figure, you concluded that, indeed, he is the male in your dreams; quite literally and figuratively.

True, he is the exact spitting image of the male you’ve been seeing every night when you’re fast asleep. But also he is exactly your type; sharp jawline that could probably cut your finger, steel gray eyes that look oh so mysterious, and saints, the way you could see small veins on his pale hand drives you crazy.

“Uhmm. . .do you need help?” you voiced out without thinking twice. You had to slap yourself internally when the male turned around to glare at you.

He rose a brow, eyes trailing from head to toe as if questioning you what are you doing.

“Ah—uhm. I didn’t mean to startle you but I am quite familiar with this section so maybe I could help you with what you are looking for.”

The male narrowed his eyes at you, lips pressed into a thin line. Both of you shared silence, the distant hum of the air conditioner was the only thing you could hear. “What happened to Lori,” he abruptly spoke which perplexed you.

“What. . ?”

“I am looking for the second book of ‘What happened to Lori’. Do you know where that is?”

Your mouth fell open in realization as to what he was pertaining to. It was the exact book that you bought a week ago after finding out that the library doesn’t have the second book to the duology. It was a hefty price, but all was worth it since the story is all too intriguing to be left behind in book one. You needed answers and a continuation, and as such bought the second book online.

“The second book isn’t actually available. . .” you explained. The male cursed under his breath, something about the library being a useless piece of shit that was stupid enough to not buy the second book considering it was a duology.

The very book he is looking for is inside your bag. Frankly, you only finished it halfway so you were not too sure if you want to let him borrow it. But, with one look at the male, you can’t help but be amazed at how he is the carbon copy of the person that keeps appearing in your dreams.

You weren’t a superstitious person, but could this male be your soulmate?

He was about to leave you, that is until you called out to him. “But I have the second book with me,” you stammered. If it means that you would get to see him again and perhaps know some answers, then you are more than willing to lend him your book. “You could borrow it if you want. . .?”

The male looked at you from the corner of his eye, observing the way you fidget in your place and how you refused to look at him directly in the eye by continuously letting your gaze shift from book to book on the shelves.

“If that’s fine with you, then sure.”

With shaky hands, you frantically fished inside your bag in an attempt to look for the book. He was silent as you pulled out the said item and handed it over to him. The male, with astonishment dancing in his eyes, took the book from your hands and examined its cover and pages.

“Have. . .have I seen you somewhere before?” you dared ask, eager to confirm if you were plain hallucinating or perhaps the soulmate-thing is indeed true. That, suppose, you also appear in his dreams every night. It was far-fetched, but you were ambitious to find out answers.

The male let out one drained sigh, irritation washed over his features. “Look, if you are trying to hit on me then I’m not interested.”

Wait, what? You weren’t—

“I-I’m not!” you stammered, hands flailing around. “I just thought you look familiar.”

He opened his mouth to respond but was cut short when the deafening clap of the thunder followed by a flash of light interrupted him. Both of you looked out the window to see the sky as black as tar, clouded by dark gray nimbus clouds as small drops of rain fell to the ground. Then it gradually got heavy all too soon.

The color drained from your face as you realized that you forgot to bring an umbrella today. Not only that but you were totally unprepared for the sudden change in weather given that you were wearing a thin shirt.

You bit your lip, brows curling up at the thought of shivering as you wait for the rain to dissipate. If anything, you totally despise the cold and how it makes your nose all runny and hair stand. Internally scolding yourself, you made a mental note to always check the weather update before going out of your dorm.

“Tch. . .” the male clicked his tongue. “Here.”

You were surprised to feel the soft fabric of his jacket draped over your shoulders, giving you warmth. Did he just—did he just gave you his jacket?

“You’re shivering like a fucking wet dog,” he explained. “So wear that. . .”

A flush crept up your face as the musky scent of his cologne with a hint of artificial fragrance from what you presumed is the smell of cleaning products wafted through your nose. You’ve got to say, this jacket of his truly is comfortable. With it being lined with cotton on the inside, the thick wool serving as a second layer for warmth, and the exquisite color combination of forest green and gold of the clothing. Slowly, you slipped your arms inside the sleeves and tucking your hands deep inside its pockets. Oddly enough, it fits you just well given—not too big nor small.

The male turned on his heel, about to take his leave, again, without bidding you farewell. But you grabbed onto his sleeve just in time before he could leave the vicinity.

“When—uhh—when can I return this?”

He looked at you with a confused expression, as if asking if you are dumb or whatnot. “Isn’t that obvious?”

“What I mean is, oh gods, I don’t have any ways to contact you whatsoev—“

“So you want my number?”

Someone please kill me right now, you whimpered.

“What? No, I was ju—“

“Yeah, yeah I get it. Hurry up and give me your phone,” the male pulled out his phone, expecting you to do the same.

The audacity of this guy. He has to be a lady’s man or whatever to be this haughty.

With a shaky breath, you and him both exchange numbers. Mind in a frenzy at the thought of seeing him again and perhaps that wouldn’t be the last time.

“Uhmm. . .So I guess I’ll return the jacket to you once you’ve finished the book. . .?”

Ah, there is that feeling again that keeps pestering you—a thought on the back of your mind.

"Yeah, I'll give the book back to you eventually," he spoke. "I'll see you in another time. . ."

"Yeah. . .” you breathed, calming yourself to prevent blood rushing to your cheeks. “See you.”

A hunch that you have already met him in the past; a fragment in time.

part 2 (?)

#aot #snk #attack on titan #attack on titan x reader #shingeki no kyojin #shingeki no kyoujin x reader #levi #levi x reader #levi ackerman #levi ackerman x reader #reader insert

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jishyucks · 3 years ago

Text

Me and You Against the World ‣ hjs

‣ genre: royalty!au, arranged marriage, female reader, pls read an!

‣ wc: 4.7k

‣ summary: "I don't understand why they judge when they don't even know you…"; in which you don't let the words of others get in the way of your relationship with Jisung

‣ warnings?: Itzy is mean in this (but it doesn't reflect how they are irl!), prejudice due to less wealth, lots of thinking

‣ an: These events are what leads to this fic but in a different 'era.' Basically, I decided to just write the ending of this fic in a rich kid au setting instead of a royal au setting and just post that,,, but since I already wrote a lot of it, I decided to post it! It can be read separately but this doesn't have a proper ending.

You can vividly remember the reactions of all the other princesses when they found out you were arranged to marry none other than Prince Han Jisung. They snickered and laughed. They blatantly shared pitiful glances, taking turns to pat your shoulder as if it could bring you a sense of comfort.

Of course, at the growing age of fourteen, you had no idea why they had been acting as so. From images and stories you received of the Prince, he seemed like someone who would be easy to get along with. So why the judgmental looks?

"They're the poorest of all the kingdoms, Y/N," Yeji pointed out, "Your kingdom is one of the richest, of course, after mine. Don't you think that's rather odd?" She traced the laces of her gloves and scoffed discourteously.

You bring the teacup up to your mouth, eyeing your friend curiously, "What do you mean by that?" You gulped, afraid that the image of your family name would be stained. It was not your choice, however, nor your parents'. You had been drawn to be last when choosing a suitor, and naturally, from the apparent reputation and wealth of the Han family, their son was the last left to be selected.

Yeji scoffed, the other princesses laughing at how naive you've been acting, "Obviously, their family's going to leech off of your family. I think your parents should rethink their decision of choosing Han Jisung as your future husband."

Shaking your head, you frowned at the meaningless words that your friend had been spitting out, "I don't think that's needed… Isn't that what we're supposed to do? Help each other out? How bad can Han Jisung be?”

Lia finally speaks up, "I heard that he rolls around the mud with their pigs."

"And… he doesn't even take a bath after doing so," Yuna budges in. She stirred the cooling tea with a miniature spoon, a smirk rising up to her lips, "Imagine how his bed smells. Rancid."

"I hear he's poor-mannered, too… that he lacks the respect a prince should need towards others," Ryujin says stiffly, "Just generally not fit to be a king. I feel bad for you, Y/N."

There was a brief silence between the six of you, the sound of Yuna's spoon tapping the sides of the cup occupying that silence. Though you felt yourself frown at the possibility that you were to be married to an ill-mannered prince, you quickly shook those thoughts out and tried your best to ignore them. You were taught never to be driven towards believing rumours or gossip in this case. Who were they to judge someone they never met? Except for Yeji, who met him through her brother.

"I ask you all not to pity me in any sort," you finally say, "Not until I've met him. Besides… those are just rumours. He could be much better than you hear." Satisfied with how you handled the situation, you straightened your back and took a long sip of your tea, mentally preparing yourself for your first meeting with the Prince.

—

Upon arriving at the valley region, the kingdom owned by the Han's, you immediately understand why your parents settled with their son. Though you were last to choose your suitor, your parents and his parents seemed to be closely acquainted, smiles on their faces and direct contact as they greeted each other. You stood back, watching the exchange begin and end, rather amused at how happy both sets of parents looked.

"I'm so happy you all arrived safely," the Queen of the valley region clasped her hands. The King nodded and let his wife continue, "And I'm so glad that our children are to be married by chance… All the other young princesses chose, while you–" She looked over your mother's shoulder and at you, "You and my precious son fell into this arrangement by fate's doing! The world wanted this."

Your mother responded by smiling fondly, "I never viewed the situation like that!" They begin to move up the stairs towards the front entryway, the knights moving along the four majesties. You followed closely behind, listening in on the conversation as you let your eyes wander around. "My mother had been upset that Y/N fell last, telling me I would not be able to choose the best," your mother began, "But I don't see any problem with that."

Compared to other castles you've visited, you could definitely see how much wealth the Hans did have. It was still very much a beautiful castle. It was well-kept and unique in build. Something drew you to it. But you couldn't exactly point out what part of it did.

"I understand your mother's perspective," the King chuckled, "No one likes being last. However, I believe that in such matter, no one is stuck with the 'worst.'"

At this point, everyone had entered the castle, and this was when you could see that the Hans were, in fact, less wealthy than the other royal families. Much of the furniture and interior decorations were quite old, almost antique, but again, it was a feature of the castle that drew you in. The outside of the castle looked much larger than the interior.

"Ah! I almost forgot," the Queen turned to look at your family, "My son is out and about exploring. We instructed him to come in time to greet you guys at the entrance but boys his age never listen." At the mention of Jisung, you almost forgot about him, causing your curiosity to rise.

"Miss Kim?"

A lady appeared from another room, hurriedly approaching the Queen with a bow, "Yes, your majesty?"

"Please escort Princess Y/N to Prince Jisung," she instructed gently, "It will be nice for them to get acquainted while we continue with our conversation about this arrangement."

Miss Kim nodded and waved you over with a motherly smile, "Let us go, Princess." You quickly bid your parents goodbye before trailing behind Miss Kim. Though her legs were short, she moved with ease, almost flying down the corridor with a constant speed. She didn't look back to see if you had still been following her as your footsteps helped her indicate your presence.

"I suspect the Prince is somewhere by the garden," she mutters urgently, "Or by the river."

"River?" you questioned. The idea of a river caused you to smile. Your family ruled the mountain region, meaning there were not many rivers to visit. A river would be a nice change in scenery. Miss Kim finally leads you out of the back of the castle, the sight of flowers taking over your line of sight.

"Prince Jisung?" she called out, "Prince Jisung?" It was rather enjoyable seeing Miss Kim run around frantically in search of the Prince. Your mind wanders back to the conversation you had with other princesses, how the Prince is ill-mannered, one who was not fit to be a king. With his absence in greeting you and your family, you're afraid that the other princesses were actually correct with this information.

"I'm over here, Miss Kim!" a voice called out, "By the pond!"

Once again, Miss Kim waved for you to follow you. You hiked up your dress and tried your best to keep up with her speed, though she still kept the same pace she previously had. She walked straight down the stone path, turning right onto another pathway, and then left, finally revealing a beautifully decorated pond.

"Ah, there you are, my prince!" Miss Kim had been blocking your view of the third presence, marching towards the pond. You let her move ahead, allowing her to approach the Prince on her own, "The Y/L/Ns are here… your mother strictly told you that you should be there to greet them."

Still a voice with no face, you hear him reply, "I'm sorry, I lost track of time… I'm feeding the fish!" There was a moment of silence as the Prince went to stand up, finally revealing the frame of his body to you. He turns to face your direction. His head was kept down as he dusted off the dirt from his pants.

"Do I have time to chan–" The Prince finally noticed you standing yards away from him and Miss Kim, causing him to halt abruptly in his words, "–ge?"

"Your parents have ordered for you two to get acquainted," Miss Kim stated, "I assume I will be the one to call you both shortly for dinner." At this, she turns to hurry back, leaving you and the Prince alone.

He bows stiffly, "Nice to meet you. I'm Jisung."

He bowed… that's a good indication of manners, right? You curtsy, "I'm Y/N."

"I know who you are," he says happily, beginning to walk back towards the main path. You follow, "You know they call you the 'Snow Princess' here? Which I don't understand because the mountains aren't always filled with snow." He looks back to see if you followed him, "Do you mind if we drop our titles with each other? We are at the same standing."

"I don't mind," you replied. You're taken aback at his apparent tendency to talk, "We are arranged to marry in a few years…."

"Well, Y/N," he begins, a bright smile on his face, "How should we begin?"

You watch as he advances forward, hands swinging carelessly, something you were taught never to do. As a princess, you were taught to cross your hands in front of you to give you a poised appearance. Jisung had a hop in his step, his posture could be straighter, and his hair was unkempt. You could already say that Yeji's brother, Hyunjin, was probably the opposite of Jisung. He kept himself tidy, he came on time to schedules and never interrupted when another was speaking. This is perhaps what Ryujin meant when she said Jisung was not fit for a king.

"How do you like to spend your time?" You questioned. You figured that this was a way to start a conversation, hoping that it would blossom into another.

Jisung hummed in thought, "If I'm not doing my studies or sleeping, I tend to spend my time here… just deep in thought." He raised his arms, presenting the garden to you.

"You don't go horseback riding? How about practicing swordsmanship?"

He shrugs, "We're short on horses right now, and my father is prioritizing the knights with the horses since they need it. As for swordsmanship, my mother wants me to wait until I'm older."

Short on horses?

"Ahhh, I understand," you nodded awkwardly, "If you ever come to my kingdom, I'll take you horseback riding! You seem like the person who would love doing it."

This sparks a feeling of joy in Jisung, a smile reflecting it, "That would be really nice! I'll look forward to that." He stuffs his hands into the pockets of his dress pants, "How about you? How do you spend your time?"

"I do studies, like you… I read, visit the village. Horseback riding, of course… suddenly I can't think once I'm asked," you laughed, "But I'm often very active and doing my duties."

"Your life sounds a lot more interesting than mine," he grins, trying to laugh the sad reality off, "It's evident in the way you can't even list all of your activities." You could see his smile start to falter, bangs falling over his forehead as he looked down at his feet.

You feel your heart stutter, and soon you're frowning. The words you had told the other princesses echoed in your head. Isn't that what we're supposed to do? Help each other out?

Reaching out, you grab ahold of his wrist. At the sudden contact, he flinched slightly before relaxing at the realization, "You're still happy, aren't you?"

He nods gently, still dwelling on the fact that even though you both stood at the same social standing, his wealth didn't amount to yours, and he couldn't help but be embarrassed. He couldn't help but feel bad you were stuck with him as a future husband when it was quite obvious you could do better.

"Then that's what matters," you say. A part of you wanted to tell him not to compare his life to others, but you stopped yourself, refraining from creating emphasis on your wealth and his supposed slight lack of it.

At your exchange of glances and sympathetic smiles, the footsteps of Miss Kim grew closer. Looking over, you see as she's waving you both over for dinner. Jisung nodded and held up a thumbs up to indicate that you both were going to follow, sending Miss Kim back to tend to the meal.

Jisung turns to once more, "Thank you, Y/N. I'll live by that."

–

"So?"

Yeji, Hyunjin, and Lia sat around the table, eyeing you as if you owed them something of great importance. You stared back at them, straightening your back as you become aware of the attention on you.

"Pardon?" What is it that you needed to tell them? You didn't recall promising them any sort of information, nor did you have news to pass on.

"How was your visit to the valley region?" Lia questioned, "Was it all as they say it was?"

Yeji leaned towards you, "And Prince Jisung? Was he ill-mannered?"

You mentally bring a hand to your forehead, comprehending what it was they were expecting from you. You assume they wanted you to traduce the Han family and their kingdom. But despite the obvious difference in wealth they had from the rest of the kingdoms and the fact that Jisung lacked the training he needed as a prince, you found no problems in the Han family.

"Their castle was unique," you begin, "It was beautiful, actually." You use a fork to poke into the sliced fruit laid out on a plate, bringing it to your mouth as you wait for their reactions. As anticipated, puzzled looks rose up onto their faces, rather confused about your comment. You continue, "The interior was beautiful as well. Not as extravagant as the Hwang family's castle, but it was still a sight to look at. It was adorned with flowers.

"As for Prince Jisung," you could feel some sense of protection over him, biting back your tongue from saying rude things to those in front of you, "He's just as much a prince as Hyunjin. He's playful and carefree, is all. So I hope you all should refrain from listening to the gossip being spread about the Han family, especially since they're going to be part of my family in the future." The three of them sat back and nodded. You wished you could laugh at the embarrassed and apologetic looks on their faces, but to their eyes, that would not be very polite of you.

ii.

It wasn't until two years later that Jisung had been actually able to visit your kingdom. Though you did enjoy visiting his kingdom and enjoying the change in scenery, having him come to yours was something you had wished for ever since you met him.

Over the past two years of getting to know each other, you had grown much closer than you initially expected. Jisung had a view on life that contrasted to yours in more ways than one, and learning of the different perspectives of the world allowed you to adopt an open mind. You believe that he made you a better princess and future Queen.

Likewise, Jisung has been able to get a taste of what a typical royal life is like through you. Though his family was still able to experience the everyday duties and privilege of being royalty, there were limitations when it came to his position. Through you, he could at least understand what other things were expected of him. As he grew physically, he grew mentally, learning to appear princely in front of others without completely stripping the playful personality he had around those close to him.

Regardless of what others did say about the Han family, the relationship between you both worked well in all sorts of ways. You would always think about what Jisung's mother had told your parents, how you both were brought together by fate, and in that sense, you guys were meant to be partners.

"Ready to ride horses?" You had a mischievous grin on your face as you pulled the boy behind you.

"Why are you smiling as if the horses could kill me?" Jisung eyed you suspiciously, genuinely afraid of what could happen next. He stumbled over his own feet as he followed you, scared yet excited.

You laughed, "I mean, they can, but they won't."

The two of you finally arrived at the stable, catching Seungmin placing the saddles onto the horses. He greeted you and Jisung with a bow before speeding up in doing his task.

"I promise you, I won't let you get hurt in any way," you say. You asked Seungmin to bring the horse out for Jisung, who refused to guide the horse without experience, "You'll get the hang of it. Watch me get on and do the same."

He nods, listening to every single syllable of your words. Setting your left foot onto the stirrup, you grab hold of the saddle and heave yourself up after a couple of bounces on your right foot. You swing your leg over your horse, Blizz, with ease, quickly making yourself comfortable on the horse.

"That… that can't be too hard…." Jisung muttered. He mirrors what you previously did, setting his foot onto the stirrup and grabbing hold of the top of the saddle. You watched as he bounces countlessly on his right foot, unable to find the right time to pull himself up.

"Do you need help, Prince Jisung?" Seungmin questioned. You almost forgot that he was standing aside because of how amused you had grown in watching Jisung.

Jisung shook his head, mentally shooing Seungmin away as he finally times everything right and heaves himself up. Forgetting to throw his leg over the horse's, Buran, body, for a brief moment, Jisung's body had been doing over the horse, hovering as his foot stuck to the stirrup.

"Sung, throw your leg over!" You exclaimed, holding back a laugh. You shouldn't even laugh, as he barely rides horses, but you couldn't help but find the situation hysterical. Jisung was close to panicking, but right when he was going to back off of the horse, he finally found the courage to build momentum to swing his leg over.

"I did it!" He gasped. Jisung shifted slightly on the saddle to make himself comfortable, a proud and bright smile on his face.

"You're a natural!" You tease. You let Blizz move closer to Buran, mirroring Jisung's smile widely, "It's actually difficult getting on horses. I'm surprised you didn't have much trouble."

"Of course," he joked, winking, "I'm me."

You playfully hit his shoulder before going over the ways he was supposed to guide his horse. He listened carefully, never seeming to blink for the next ten minutes of your brief lesson, "I won't go any faster than this." You rode circles around Jisung, keeping your attention directly on him. Judging by the expression on his face, he was nervous to begin moving, "Are you ready?"

Jisung nods confidently, gesturing for you to go ahead of him so that he can follow.

"I'm staying beside you," you told him.

You both started off slow, following a man-made path that circled your family's castle. Jisung had great control of Buran, though his knuckles were white from the grip had on its reins. You assure him that he was okay, that Buran was well trained and would not go out of control even with the most hectic of occurrences.

"Are you sure you haven't ridden before?" You questioned, "Wanna speed up a little bit?"

He nods, "Not so quick, though… I want to ease into it." You nod understandingly as you both begin to speed up. He follows you, heart pounding at the possibility that Buran would not understand his controls, "I've ridden once before, but my father was the one controlling the horse… He let me hold onto the reins, but that was about it."

"How long ago was that?"

"When I was about five."

Making plenty of rounds around the castle, you decide to divert down the path down to the edge of the town. Jisung followed you, even moving slightly ahead, "Your kingdom is beautiful, Y/N."

"I could say that about yours, Sung," you catch up to him and let your gaze fall onto Jisung. The gentle breeze softly brushed through his hair, exposing his forehead. You could tell that he was slowly growing used to the feeling of riding. You figured that speaking to him was a great distraction from the nerves.

He smiles at the mention of his home before shaking his head, "Oh hush… this is about you." He returns your gaze, snickering once he gets a proper look at you. Despite you both being on horses, the space between you both would have been considered close.

"What's so funny?"

He reaches forward and picks out a leaf that had flown into your hair, "Since when did you get so messy?" Letting the leaf fly out of his hand, he winks jokingly at you, causing you to almost fall off Blizz.

"I've always been messy," you rolled your eyes. At the sight of the town, you advanced faster, making sure that Jisung was comfortable without your guidance, "The only reason my bedroom is not cave-like is because of the caretakers."

Jisung won't say it out loud, but somehow, flaws such as this made him fall harder for you. Though you appeared to fit how princesses should be, the more he learned about you, the more he understood that you were just as human as any of those he ruled and you ruled.

"Do you want to stop by the bakery before returning to the castle?" You turned back to look at Jisung, who had chosen to fall back slightly just to catch a glimpse of you, "You can meet Mr. Yang! He'll love you!"

Jisung nodded and trailed closely behind you, ensuring that he wouldn't lose you, not that he actually would lose you. The town's buildings grew closer, the townspeople walking to and from them.

It was nice to see the attire and the architecture of those who lived in your region. Compared to Jisung's region, where people often wore sleeveless or short sleeves, the people wore longer sleeves and thin layers. Though the weather was not at all bad, he figured that they had grown used to this type of weather and generally wanted to dress warmer. The buildings were built on top of platforms that separated the actual structure from the ground, probably to avoid the permafrost during colder days.

"We're here," you turned back, noticing the awe in Jisung's expression. He shook the look off and smiled, slowing the speed of his steed just as u had, "I wonder if Jeongin is in! I've known him since I was younger."

Jisung took time to hop off his horse before dusting off his trousers to make himself look presentable. You were ensuring that the horses were tied tightly at a nearby post, waiting for Jisung to join you. Once he had done so, you both made your way into a large building, the name of the bakery on the front: Yang-Yum Bakery.

"Mr. Yang!"

"Princess! Welcome!" An older man had his head raised over the counter, a deep smile on his face, "And is this Prince Jisung?" He stood up straight and bowed, "Welcome to my bakery. Princess Y/N has told me so much about you!"

Jisung felt his ears warm up before smiling back, "Nice to meet you, too, Mr. Yang."

The baker kept the smile on his face as he moved down the counter towards his baked goods, "What would you like? It is on me today as a welcome gift to the Prince."

Jisung's eyes widened at the selection of goods, his mouth watering at how good they all looked. He could hear you thanking Mr. Yang, "Is Jeongin helping out today?"

"Unfortunately not, Princess. He's out doing errands for Mrs. Yang," Mr. Yang retorted. You nodded understandingly before turning your attention down towards the treats. You spot your favourite ones, the meringue cookies, and then the honey-bread, a close second.

"What do you want, Sung?" You questioned quietly, gesturing to Mr. Yang the two choices, "You'll probably enjoy any of them." You could see his eyes moving back and forth across the options, his lips pressed into a thin line.

"I'd like those," Jisung points towards egg tarts, "And those, please." His finger pointed towards strawberry cream croissants, a satisfied look appearing on his face.

"Coming right up," Mr. Yang smiled and prepped the baked goods for you and Jisung, tying them into a cloth bag. He pushed it towards you with a warm smile, "I hope you enjoy them all. See you, Princess. It was a pleasure to meet you, Prince Jisung." He bowed and softly waved.

You and Jisung bowed back before taking your leave. Soon you both were back outside, people still carrying out their duties. They had not noticed that you were present, which you did not really mind. It was nice not being the center of attention once in a while. And while Jisung was here, you didn't want the usual fuss that occurred when you visited the village.

Speaking too soon, a younger girl noticed your attire, immediately indicating that you were a royal. She smiled and curtsied, "Afternoon, princess."

"Afternoon," you smiled back.

At that small exchange, others followed in pursuit, also noticing the presence of the Prince next to you. And because they did recognize him, you couldn't help but take note of the fact that people were whispering, which wasn't what usually occurred when you were in town.

Upon hearing Jisung's name in their hushed remarks, your ears perked, miraculously gaining the ability to hear the words they spoke, "Isn't that the Prince of the valley? The poorer kingdom."

"Yes… you can tell just from how he's dressed."

Shaking your head, you tune out the insults being 'secretly' thrown towards Jisung, who, judging by the look on his face, could also hear them talk. It was sad how people were so quick to judge.

"This is Prince Jisung," you say confidently, "The one who I will marry in a few years' time… I ask that you respect him as much as you respect my father."

They shut their mouths, bowing to follow what you had asked of them. Jisung's gaze fell onto you, hundreds of thoughts rooted from different beliefs clashing inside his head. The people had dispersed, leaving the two of you alone.

Though you smiled at him, he couldn't help but feel bad that you had to stand up for him. Every time someone mentioned the wealth of his kingdom, he couldn't have but believed you deserved better, especially because there was a drastic difference between your family's wealth and his family's wealth.

Y/N shouldn't be going through this…

"Should we get going?" You questioned, "There are more things I want to show you." You acted so casually about such a situation that Jisung could sense that you've already been in a position. Just how many times have you stood up for him?

Though the idea should be giving him a sense of comfort, he still felt as though he should be doing something in return. Securing yourselves back on the horses, you begin making your way back to the castle. There was a short period of silence before Jisung had spoken up, "You don't need to defend me, you know. But thank you."

You glance over at him and frown, "I don't understand why they judge when they don't even know you… And as your future wife, it is my duty to defend you. Besides, if it were the other way around, you would do the same."

That night, Jisung couldn't help but let the words play over in his head. You were right. He would do the same for you, but it was because he adored you. Did this mean that you felt the same?

"Part Two"

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cherryatiny · 4 years ago

Text

𝙏𝙖𝙭𝙞 𝙤𝙛 𝙨𝙤𝙧𝙧𝙤𝙬 - 𝙅.𝙔𝙃

⩥𝙋𝙖𝙞𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜: 𝙩𝙖𝙭𝙞 𝙙𝙧𝙞𝙫𝙚𝙧!𝙅𝙚𝙤𝙣𝙜 𝙔𝙪𝙣𝙝𝙤 (𝘼𝙩𝙚𝙚𝙯) 𝙭 𝙛!𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧

⩥𝙂𝙚𝙣𝙧𝙚: 𝙨𝙢𝙪𝙩, 𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙨𝙩, 𝙣𝙤𝙣-𝙞𝙙𝙤𝙡 𝘼𝙐

⩥𝙒𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩: 3,0𝙠

⩥𝙎𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮: 𝘽𝙤𝙩𝙝, 𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙗𝙤𝙨𝙨'𝙨 𝙨𝙘𝙤𝙡𝙙𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙖 𝙧𝙪𝙩𝙝𝙡𝙚𝙨𝙨 𝙗𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙠-𝙪𝙥 𝙝𝙖𝙫𝙚 𝙗𝙚𝙚𝙣 𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙜𝙤𝙩𝙩𝙚𝙣 𝙖𝙛𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙤𝙣𝙚 𝙬𝙞𝙡𝙙 𝙩𝙖𝙭𝙞-𝙙𝙧𝙞𝙫𝙚

⩥𝙒𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜: 𝙗𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙠 𝙪𝙥, 𝙖𝙡𝙘𝙤𝙝𝙤𝙡 𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙥𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣 (𝙬𝙝𝙞𝙘𝙝 𝙄'𝙢 𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙙𝙤𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜), 𝙘𝙖𝙧 𝙨𝙚𝙭, 𝙘𝙡𝙞𝙩 𝙥𝙡𝙖𝙮, 𝙨𝙞𝙯𝙚 𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙠, 𝙪𝙣𝙥𝙧𝙤𝙩𝙚𝙘𝙩𝙚𝙙 𝙨𝙚𝙭 (𝙗𝙪𝙩 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧 𝙞𝙨 𝙤𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙥𝙞𝙡𝙡), 𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙙𝙖 𝙫𝙖𝙣𝙞𝙡𝙡𝙖, 𝙩𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙮 𝙗𝙪𝙡𝙜𝙚

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

Salty tears already at the brim of eyes, from the harsh words that came out of her bosses mouth. All this only because she submitted a work, one hour later than she was supposed to.

As she sat down at her desk, her head fallen in her palms, trying hard to stop herself from starting to cry. No crying in front of her boss. She can’t show him how his words affected her, how it breaks her when someone doesn’t validate her hard work and shouts at her.

Turning off her PC and arranging her work for the next day, the young girl was prepared to leave work and go home where her loving boyfriend Hyunsoo was waiting, the sound of her phone’s notification stopping her actions.

Picking up her smartphone and opening it with her fingermark, she saw a notification from Hyunsoo, quickly opening it to see what he wanted. If he hadn’t burnt the kitchen while trying to cook, it should be okay. At least that’s what she thought.

HyunHyun: Y/N, let’s break up

HyunHyun: I know it’s lame to announce through a message

HyunHyun: I didn’t want to see you cry, it’ll make me regret my actions

HyunHyun: But I just can’t keep on pretending my feelings for someone, when I lost them a long time ago

HyunHyun: I’ve already taken my belongings from your flat, so you don’t have to bother with it

HyunHyun: I found a girl I’m really happy to be with

HyunHyun: And I hope you’ll also find someone, who’ll be the right one and make you happy

HyunHyun: But it’s not me

HyunHyun: Live a good life, Y/N, you deserve only the best

She couldn’t believe what she just saw. Her now ex-boyfriend broke up with her. Over a text. The incident with her boss already forgotten as tears spilt down her cheeks. Eyes redder than blood, mascara running down her cheeks, and the top of her blouse already soaked from the tears.

This can’t be happening to her, not now, not today. She and Hyunsoo were meant to be, this must be some misunderstanding. She rushed home, only to find an empty flat, no more Hyunsoo’s dirty t-shirts, no sink full of unwashed bowls and plates, only his keys laying on the kitchen counter with a note.

„My keys.

When we run into each other one day, let’s not feel any hatred or malice. My feelings for you were sincere, unfortunately, they disappeared over the years, I still wish you the best.

- HyunHyun“

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

„Like... can you believe what he did, what a jerk. Break up with me through a message? He couldn’t even grow a pair and say it to my face, coward.“

Y/N has been babbling to her friend about her ex for over 2 hours now, still not understanding the fact how could he break up with her over a text.

„Look Y/N, I’m not going to comfort you with those stupid lines like ‘it is not your fault’, ‘it is his loss’, ‘maybe he was not the one’, but maybe just think of this as an opportunity to meet someone better, someone, who will love you and won’t meet other women behind your back.“

„I know, I know Sora, but I just, wasn’t prepared for this, he could have at least say it to my face and not act like he loved me for over three years. Today is really the worst day ever, my boss scolded me for nothing today, then Hyunsoo broke up with me, and now I’m probably going to throw up, from how bad this alcohol taste.“

Y/N sighed and kept playing with the straw in her drink, thinking about how hopeless everything was. She was about to lose her job and now she had no one who will comfort her after a bad day at work.

„Sora let’s go to a club, what do you think? Dance the sorrow away and hook up with some guys. You know, my sex life with Hyunsoo was disastrous, most of the time he couldn’t even get it up, and when he did, he came after a few minutes and left me with no orgasm. Now I’m finally free to get some good dick, without cheating on anyone.“

„Y/N aren’t you a bit tipsy? Let’s do this another day since you’re too drunk and afflicted, I don’t want you to do something stupid, you’ll regret it the next morning. I’ll call you a taxi to take you home, honey.“

Sora picked her phone up and dialled a phone number of a taxi driver, ordering the taxi to come pick up Y/N at the bar.

„The taxi was near, so it'll be here in 5 minutes, get your coat and try to not forget anything.”

As the two girls paid for their drinks, they went outside the bar to wait for the taxi. Autumn breeze caressing their cheeks, with coldness, colourful leaves falling on the path.

Soon after a yellow car with a 'TAXI' written on the side, was nearing the two figures. Sora opened the door, to talk to the taxi driver.

„Hey, um please take my friend Y/N to ***, she's a little bit drunk and afflicted, so if she starts babbling nonsense, don't mind her.”

The taxi driver smiled and nodded in understatement to Sora's words, as she pulled Y/N closer to her, to help her get into the back of the car. Y/N resisted and rather sat at the front

„Bye Y/N, call me when you get home and make yourself some good green tea to flow away the toxins and alcohol. And eat something, you'll get sober faster.”

Y/N waved her hand at her and closed the door, finally sighing and relieving after the hard day.

The car ride was quiet, the driver probably didn't want to make it awkward and force her to talk, since she was probably nauseous, but it had the opposite effect because of the awkward silence. The fact that Y/N couldn't get her eyes off the driver, didn't make it any better.

Dark piercing eyes, focused on the road, as his big, veiny hands with long and slim fingers tapped on the steering wheel. Occasionally twirling it to the right or left. His black hair with middle-part showing off part of his forehead making him even more attractive, if that was possible. She just couldn't take her eyes off the handsome man.

„Uhm, do you want me to turn on the radio or do you wanna talk maybe...?”

„You can talk, I'll just listen.. tell me something about you Mr. taxi driver”

„Well, I don't really have anything to talk about, but if that's what you want, your wish is my command I guess. Uhm... my name is Yunho, and I've been a taxi driver for two years, apart from that, my life is just pretty boring, when I don't work I usually go to the dance studio or am out with my friends, that's all I really don't know what to talk about.”

„Okay if you don't want to talk, then listen pretty boy, this is the worst day of my life, I was the whipping-boy for my boss today and then my boyfriend broke up with me after cheating on me... why did this happen to me? I did nothing wrong in my life, all I did was work hard and this is how society repays me. Can you believe it?”

„Well, look, I’m a single taxi-driver. I have no boss or a partner who’d cheat on me, so I don’t think I can give you any valued advice, but maybe try to be more positive? Think of it as an opportunity, to meet someone better I guess.“

'The sane shit Sora told me' thought Y/N. She lied back on her seat as the car stopped because of a traffic jam. With the alcohol banging in her head, she leaned a bit closer, her hand landing on Yunho’s muscular thigh to stabilize herself. Yunho could feel her hot breath on his neck as she just noiselessly stared at him.

„Y/N ehm.. what are you doing.“

„Just observing you. You know Yunho, you’re much more attractive than my ex, I would swap you two right away.“

„I think you’re too drunk, Y/N. Just wait until we get to the address your friend gave me, I think the traffic jam will go away soon.“

As Yunho said that, Y/N just moved her hand more up his thigh, close to his crotch, her fingertips fiddling with the material of his jeans. His breathing quickening, his legs shaking as he saw the traffic moving, leg accelerating the speed by stepping in the accelerator.

„Y/N-ah... you’re drunk.“

Yunho pulled the car over to the side of the road, in the middle of nothing. No cars, no people. Perfect. His hands fell and gripped her wrists. He knew this wasn't right, she was his customer after all, but he couldn't resist.

„Don’t start what you can’t handle.“

He turned to look at Y/N’s flushed face, leaning closer to her, lips attacking her neck and leaving kitten licks and bites. His hand going up to her thigh, slipping under her skirt, rubbing her clit through the material of her panties.

„Spread your legs for me, baby.“

Yunho pulled his seat down into a horizontal position, tapping his thighs, motioning for Y/N to straddle his lap. Y/N undid her seat-belt and sat on Yunho’s crotch, his bulge getting more and more visible as arousal filled the car.

Yunho let his hand do the magic, as soft and drunk moans left Y/N’s lips. Yunho connecting their lips, his tongue slipping into her mouth to suppress her moans.

As he broke up the connection between their lips a string of saliva dripping down their lips on the seat.

Her hips brushing and grinding on him, the material of his jeans stimulating her clitoris delicately. Leaning in to unzip his leather jacket. Yunho stripped of his t-shirt as Y/N did the same with her dress, leaving her only in her panties and bra, which didn’t last long as Yunho sat and adjusted himself, his chest pressing against her as he unclipped her bra, letting it fall.

„Are you sure you want to-“

„Shut up and kiss me.“

„Oh baby, you’re not the one to give commands.”

His hands wrapped around her, pulling her down to lay on top of him, his lips kissing her hungrily, his hands coming up to grasp her breasts.

„Unzip my pants and fuck yourself on my big cock, as I suck on these pretty tits.“

Y/N clenched on nothing, his dirty words arousing her more than she expected, whimpering and adjusting herself on his much bigger figure. Her fingers unzipped his jeans and pulled them down along with his boxers to his knees. Subconsciously gulping at the sight of his erected cock, certainly the biggest dick she’s ever seen or had in her. How the fuck was it going to fit?

„Impressed? Get to work then. I’m sure your pretty little pussy will take it.“

She grabbed his member and slid it along her lips, wetting his tip with her slick, as she positioned his tip to her entrance. Sinking slowly to let herself adjust to his size, moans and whimpers left her swollen lips.

„Fuck baby, you're taking me so well, so tight and warm.”

Y/N let her hips sink up and down on Yunho's bottom, his hands found their way to cup her breasts. Fondling and caressing them. His fingertips rubbing and pinching her hardened nipples. Hands roaming all over her body, enjoying the view of Y/N fucking herself on his big dick.

Seeing the pleasure in her eyes and feeling the knot creating in his lower stomach, signalizing his climax, his fingers went lower and lower, down to where their bodies were connected, parting her folds which glistened from all the arousal.

His thumb pressing against her clit, Y/N’s walls clenching around Yunho’s length from the unexpected pleasure, sharp inhales were heard as the feeling of his thumb pressing against her nub added to the pleasure of his girthy dick hitting her g-spot. His thumb began to draw circles around her clit, bringing Y/N closer to her orgasm.

Her smaller frame spasming on top of him, hands gripping on the seat under them, juices spilling on his dick as her velvet walls clenched around him.

„Cu-cum in me Yunho, I’m on the pill“ blabbering leaving her lips, as Yunho thrust his hips into hers from below as he released his semen into her hole.

Yunho flipped both of them, so that he was on top, as he looked at her fucked figure, Y/N still breathing heavily from the intense session with him. His lips attaching themself to her neck and collar bones, licking and biting marks on her.

Moans left her lips at Yunho’s dirty words, nodding her head as she looked at the handsome man on top of her, his broad shoulders and muscular chest, covering her frame, feeling so small underneath him. His hands grabbing her legs as he bends them in knees, to help him position himself better in between her legs.

„Fuck, Y/N, you felt so good, I loved the way your tits bounced as you fucked yourself on me, so pretty for me.

Maybe I should be the one to fuck you this time, fuck the cum deep into your cunt, would you like that beautiful?“

„Put your legs on my shoulders.“

Y/N straightened her legs and laid them on his shoulders, Yunho wrapping his hands around them and leaving small kisses on them, going from her ankles up to her thighs. Detaching himself from her legs, he positioned his tip by her pussy, smacking it on her clit, and slipping into her.

Y/N shuddered as his girth stretched her hole, still not used to the feeling, stretching her far beyond what she was used to. Containing her whimpers as Yunho started to slam his hips into her, holding her by her legs to keep her in the place.

She held onto his shoulders, to stabilise herself, so she’s not bouncing too much on the seat, crying out from the position of Yunho’s hips, The angle hitting her g-spot repeatedly. Beads of sweat creating on his exposed forehead, their heavy panting filling the small space of the taxi car.

His eyes diverting down from her beautiful face, the bulge in her stomach catching his attention. Fingers going down to caress and press on it. Loving the way her small body couldn’t even take his dick.

„Aww baby, look at the bulge in your tummy, do you see how your small body can’t take my big dick, so small and fragile, I just want to wreck you and see you break apart on my dick.“

Whimpers leaving her mouth from the sight of the bulge in her stomach, pout forming on her lips, Yunho loved the way her eyes shut tightly.

„Don’t grit your teeth and let those sinful sounds come out, tell me how good I make you feel.“

Only blabbers leaving her mouth as she tried to say something.

„Oh so cute, is my dick making you feel so good that you can’t even say something coherent? Are you going to cum soon, baby?“

„Y-yes ah Yunho.“ Tears spilling out of her shut eyes from the endless thrusts of his hips into her bottom half. Feeling Y/N cum all over him, it took only a few more thrust of his hips to release himself into her, loud grunts falling from his lips.

When they both came down from their climaxes, their breath steadying. Kissing her lips and sitting down to dress himself and then dress Y/N.

„Yunho? Uhm, do you want to come over? You know... to clean yourself and maybe eat something, I’m a pretty good cook.“

„I’d love that, Y/N.“

„Uhm, I-I’ll get you a towel and something to get dressed in, so you can shower while I cook...“

As Yunho dressed her, Y/N sat down on the passenger seat, he pulled his seat up and drove to the final destination which was Y/N’s place.

As Y/N unlocked the door to her quiet and empty apartment, they both stepped in.

„No, either you go shower and I cook, or you shower with me and then we’ll cook together.“

„Shower together it is then.“

Y/N intervened her fingers with Yunho’s as she took him into the shower. Both of them rubbing off the dirt of each other as they laughed and smiled together. The smell of bubblegum and flower shampoo filling the air.

„Y/N stay still as I dry you.“

They both bundled each other into bathrobes soft and fluffy smiles on their faces. Putting on some underwear underneath those bathrobes, the two of them went to the kitchen to cook something to eat. Deciding to make some broccoli pasta with cheese, since broccoli was the only thing in her empty refrigerator.

„Eat Y/N, it’ll help you get sober faster, don’t make me feed you...“

Even though it might not be understandable for some people, the two of them felt like they’ve known each other forever and a day.

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

Y/N rubbed her eyes, quiet snores were coming out of the manly figure laying next to her, his strong arm wrapped around her waist, keeping her close to his bare and warm chest, his face snuggled into the crook of her neck. Maybe Hyunsoo’s idea to break-up with you wasn’t that bad after all...

#ateez #ateez yunho #ateez scenarios #ateez imagines #ateez smut #ateez yunho fanfic #ateez fanfic #ateez fanfiction #ateez yunho scenarios #ateez yunho smut #ateez yunho imagines #jeong yunho fanfic #jeong yunho scenarios #jeong yunho #jeong yunho fanfiction #jeong yunho smut

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scuttle-buttle · 4 years ago

Text

Chapter 4

Previous chapters & additional tags can be found in my masterlist.

WC: 1457

Rated: E for eventual smut

Chapter tags: flirting, checking a person out/body parts, Ich bin speed

Your boss didn’t question you when you asked for the day off. “Take Friday too, si? You work too much!” he’d scold. That being said, the week dragged on. It had been slow to begin with, as your little team was waiting on a shipment of new pieces that got delayed.

Thursday finally arrived. You chugged down a cup of tea before hightailing it out the door. Your 1974 Alfa Romeo Spider purred to life; a gift from your parents when you finished college. Cranking the radio as high as you dared, you began the drive to the Ferrari garage.

Half an hour later you were pulling into the main lot. The blast of your radio announced your arrival. Finding a parking spot, you sang along “and she walked in looking like dyna-mite, she said ‘now come along boogaloo through the night!’” loudly.

The garage housing Niki’s F1 car was situated next to the lot on the other side of a fence. “Who the hell is playing that music?” he whipped his head up at the obnoxiously loud sound. The crew just shrugged. Looking up at the wall clock, he saw it was almost 10. Oh.

You had just parked the car and got ready to cut the engine when you noticed a figure approaching the fence. Seeing the mop of brown curls, you waved. Getting out of the car you took a breath. He just wants to talk shop, that’s all, you remind yourself.

“You’re very loud,” Niki stated as you reached the opposite side of the fencing.

“Says the man that has to wear earplugs to drive his car,” you snark.

“Fair. Come around, I’ll give you the tour.”

The facility was bigger than you anticipated. It housed a large office building in the front, with several garages and an entire test track off to the side. Niki led you into the garage he had come out of earlier.

“This is Andre, Luca, and Arturo. They are the chief mechanic crew for my car. You may have seen them in the pit.”

“How do you do?” you offered politely. They nodded their heads in your direction before leaving the two of you with the car. You walked around the vehicle, admiring the curved letters spelling Niki Lauda printed on the side. “What are the specs?” you ask Niki.

“Twelve cylinders, 500 horsepower, 12,500 RPM, 575kg.”

“Chassis frame?”

“Steel tubing with aluminium panels.”

“Sounds heavy...are you using magnesium parts?” you questioned.

Niki’s lips twitched into a barely-there smile as he watched you examine the car. “Yes.”

You nod, hands on your hips. “Well.” Shrugging, you admit “that’s about the extent of my knowledge, sorry to disappoint.” He let out a short chuckle.

“You know more than most. I’ve met mechanics that never even think to use magnesium parts.”

“Well I’m glad that I’ve impressed you, I suppose.” You continue to examine the car, leaning forward into the cockpit to check out the panel and gauges. Your shirt gapes down, exposing the top of your breasts.

Niki catches his breath at the sight before averting his eyes, not wanting to be rude. A first for him, to be considering the feelings of others. Thankfully you did not notice his gaze, nor the way his face reddened. He gave you another minute to inspect the car.

“Get in.”

You whipped up to face him in question. “Are you sure?”

“Yes,” he looked at you expectantly.

Carefully you step into the cockpit, lowering your body into the seat. You didn’t think you were allowed to be doing this, but if Niki says it’s okay… Legs stretched to the pedals, you settled in. “I didn’t realize you sat so laid back” you adjusted your bum in the seat, feet flat on the pedals and eyes just able to see above the dash.

Niki came up to the side of the car and leaned forward, his arms caged you, hands braced against the metal headrest and side panel. He pointed to the various gauges and explained their purposes. You felt his warm breath against your ear as his gruff voice spoke low. The smell of motor oil and something woodsy overwhelmed your senses.

He wouldn’t pretend that his actions were totally innocent. He was not big on public displays of affection, the handful of women he had dated over the years complained as much. But he could not deny the pull he felt towards you. Even in the short amount of time that he knew you he had already decided that he wanted to get to know you better. Besides, it’s not everyday that you meet a woman who was not only pretty, but knew about cars and took no shit from Hunt. Niki revelled in the soft floral scent of your hair - so different than the smell of burnt rubber he was accustomed to.

Swallowing, you tilted your head in the direction of his voice. You caught his brown eyes with your own. You didn’t think you would ever get used to the intensity of his stare. Breaking away you fidgeted with your hands before placing one on the gearshift, thumb caressing the knob.

“Have you taken it out yet? To test the adjustments?”

“Not yet. You may stay to watch if you would like,” he offered.

“Right on, yeah, let me just…” you pulled yourself out of the vehicle. Niki placed his fingers on your elbow as you stepped out to ensure you didn’t fall. His fingers were softer than you would have guessed for a driver.

Niki hopped in the car gracefully, as though he was made to sit there. “Do you mind?” he pointed to the desk along the wall. You retrieved the white protective mask and helmet and brought it to him. Holding the helmet as he pulled the covering over his face, your fingers traced along the edge of the Niki Lauda sticker. He reached to take it from you. After securing the helmet he warned you to cover your ears before starting the car. You were glad for his warning.

Switching into first gear, he released the clutch and let the car roll out of the garage and onto the track. He drove slow enough that you were able to keep up with him for the most part. Stopping at the edge of the track to watch, Niki got into position and called for one of the technicians to ready the stopwatch.

With a blast he shot off. He continued around the track for several laps testing the feel of the car. The rush of wind hit you each time he passed only meters from where you stood.. Finally coming to a stop he removed his headgear and nodded at you. “So?” you asked. “How does it feel?”

“Good. Arturo - I was correct, it was the rear springs that needed replacing.” Arturo wrote something in his notebook.

“How can you tell it was that? Something so small?” you wondered.

“My ass.”

“I’m sorry?” you blinked, not sure you heard him correctly.

“God gave me an okay mind, but a really good ass which can feel things in a car.”

Laughing, you weren’t sure what to make of his explanation. Perhaps I’ll just have to check it out myself, shocking yourself as your thoughts drift to his backside. You didn’t have to dwell on it too much because Niki got out of the car and bent over the cockpit to place his headgear inside. The loose material of his red coveralls tightened as he bent, giving you a taste of what he was working with. The uniform doesn't do him justice.

“What’s next on the list?” The two of you walked back to the garage.

“I have meetings with Enzo and some of the sponsor representatives at 12. Administrative dealings, really.” Sensing this was his way of telling you that your date was coming to an end - no, not a date - you gathered your bag on your shoulder.

“I’ll leave you to it then. Thank you for letting me come by, this was cool.”

“Of course.”

Turning to leave, Niki called out to you. “Will you come to the next race?”

“I’m not sure, really.”

“You should.”

“I’ll think about it,” you replied. You continued to stand there looking at him, and he you. Suddenly you decide to bite the proverbial bullet. Fetching a napkin from your bag and a pen - you always had a pen - you wrote down a set of digits. Thrusting it to Niki you say “maybe let me know when the next race is and I just might come.”

Niki took the slip from you, glancing at the numbers on it. You both knew that he could just tell you when and where the next race was now. But where was the fun in that?

Tag list: @ay0nha @apparrio @livvyshmiv @fictionlandslanddreams @vinylrosess @typical-bistander

#sleeping with the enemy #swte scuttle-buttle #niki lauda rush 2013 #niki lauda fanfiction #niki lauda x reader #daniel bruhl niki lauda #niki x reader #niki lauda daniel bruhl #daniel bruhl #daniel brühl #rush 2013 #scuttle-buttle

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bluejayblueskies · 4 years ago

Note

for the kiss prompts series? 67+jontim (or really Tim+anyone?) 🥺

67 - When One Stops The Kiss To Whisper “I’m Sorry, Are You Sure You-” And They Answer By Kissing Them More

i stuck with jontim! takes place pre-canon when jon and tim worked together in research, featuring mutual pining <3

cw for alcohol

“Okay, that was hands down the worst holiday party I’ve ever been to,” Tim says as soon as they’re outside the Institute, tugging on the tie around his neck to loosen it. It’s adorned with little reindeer and it lights up. As Tim had so eagerly demonstrated the moment he’d met up with Sasha and Jon.

Jon doesn’t like parties in general, so he doesn’t think he’s the best judge of what makes a party good or bad. He takes a guess. “Because of the alcohol?”

“More like the lack thereof,” Tim grumbles as they start toward the tube station. “I know it’s a work party, but come on. Not even spiked eggnog? Not even wine? What kind of person has a party without wine?”

“Elias, apparently.”

Tim groans. “Don’t know what I was expecting, really. The man looks like he’s never had fun in his life, ever.” Tim slings an arm around Jon’s shoulder and pulls him into his side as he walks, and Jon tries to pretend like his heart rate doesn’t skyrocket at the contact. He’s just glad it’s dark enough out that Tim can’t see the flush of heat across his cheeks. “So, then. Back to mine?”

Jon’s heart rate has, apparently, not yet reached maximum speed. “What?” he manages to say, his pulse hammering in his ears. He’s just glad that the word comes out mostly normal, if a bit choked.

“The night’s still young,” Tim says, oblivious to Jon’s internal turmoil, “and I’m still in need of a drink or three, especially after all of that. I’ve got a batch of eggnog in the fridge. I’ve also got a bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon—that fancy brand you like.”

Tim knows what brand of wine you like, one part of Jon’s mind supplies. The other part says, Of course he knows what you like; you’ve been friends for a year and a half. It doesn’t mean anything.

“Oh,” Jon says. “Yes, I’d love to- er, that- that sounds… nice?”

He barely holds back a wince. Very smooth, Jonathan.

“Great!” Tim says, unbothered. He pulls Jon a little tighter against his side, and when Jon shivers, it’s not just from the chill of the night air.

In the time it takes them to get to Tim’s house, Jon has relaxed a bit, settling into a comfortable rhythm of laughing at Tim’s jokes, offering his own awkward attempts in return, and letting the warmth of Tim’s laughter soak into him like the summer sun. It’s fine, he tells himself as Tim puts a hand on his shoulder, lingering just long enough that Jon can still feel the weight of it when Tim pulls away. It’s the same as always, he tells himself as Tim grabs his hand on their way off the tube, gently guiding him through the late-night crowds and into the bite of the open air. (Tim doesn’t let go until they get to his house, which Jon tries very hard not to have a minor crisis about.) It’s just Tim, he tells himself as Tim places a hand on the small of his back as he reaches around him to grab the glasses from his kitchen cabinet. (Jon almost drops the bottle of wine he’s holding. Which would have been quite embarrassing.)

It’s not even like this is new. This tightness in his chest, the way his breath catches a bit every time Tim smiles at him, the way he sometimes finds himself staring at Tim’s lips and wondering if they’re as soft as they look. And Jon’s not naïve. As much as he despises the word itself, he knows that at some point, he’d developed quite a potent crush. He just tries very, very hard to ignore it.

Because, well. He hasn’t been in a relationship since Georgie, and while their breakup had been unspectacular by most standards, it still ate a hole in his chest filled with a nagging certainty that if they’d remained just friends, he wouldn’t have had to go through the pain of falling slowly out of contact with her. And he doesn’t want that to happen with Tim. So it doesn’t matter how badly Jon wants to hold Tim’s hand and curl up into his side and kiss him. He’ll ignore it like he’s been doing for the past three months, and it’ll be fine.

But it’s getting harder and harder. Especially at moments like this one, with Tim pressed up against Jon’s side on the couch and his voice right next to Jon’s ear as he points out his favorite parts in the movie they’d put on. Jon’s unsure if the heat in his cheeks is from the proximity or from the three glasses of wine he’s consumed, and he’s fairly certain that Tim’s on his fourth glass of eggnog. Tim’s glass is shaped like a little reindeer head, which he thinks Tim had said is a reference to something. He’d been too busy looking at the way Tim’s rolled-up shirt sleeves showed his forearms to process what, exactly, it was a reference to.

“You know,” Tim says, cutting through Jon’s train of thought, “I never really understood the whole ‘love at first sight’ thing.”

Jon’s heart jumps into his throat. “Sorry, what?”

“You know,” Tim says, shifting from his position against Jon’s side so he can set his glass on the table before propping his feet up next to it. His socks have felt reindeer antlers on the sides of them. Jon’s beginning to notice a theme. “One person lays eyes on the other and boom. They’re in love.” He gestures toward the screen, which is currently displaying a quite detailed kissing scene. Jon looks away, face burning. “Do people really do that? Just know that they love someone with- without knowing anything about them? Feels a bit shallow, if you ask me. You’ve got to just go based on- on physical appearance or something.”

At a loss, Jon says, slowly, “Yes, I… I suppose?”

“Right.” Tim nods once, like he’s settled something. “Me, though, I need to know somebody first, you know? Always used to get me in a bit of trouble in uni, falling in love with my best friends and all that. But isn’t that how it’s supposed to be? Your partner is your partner, yeah, but they’re also your friend.”

“Right,” Jon says faintly. His heartbeat is hummingbird-fast, and he thinks his hands might be shaking just a bit. “Tim, what—?”

“It just- it doesn’t make any sense!” Tim turns to face Jon then, his cheeks flushed and his hair a bit messy from where he’d tugged some of it free from its bun. “It’s like- like, I love the way you look, yeah, but also- also the way you laugh and the way you take your tea and the types of books you read as a child. You know, the things that make you you. I fall in love with all of the little things, piece by piece, and then I’m just- just in love. Full stop.”

Jon thinks he might actually be dreaming right now. Or dying. One of the two. “Um,” he says, the word choked by the lump in his throat. “Are- are you using the universal ‘you,’ or…?”

Tim is quiet for a moment. His eyes are heavy on Jon’s face, as if searching for something. Then, sounding very much like a man who’s just decided to jump off a cliff and hope that there’s something below to catch him, he says, “You, Jon. And I promise that it’s not the rum talking.”

“Oh,” Jon says quietly. “I… I see.”

He realizes a beat later, when Tim’s face has folded ever so slightly inward and he’s begun to move away, how dismissive that had sounded. Quickly, and a bit panicked, Jon reaches out and wraps a hand firmly around Tim’s upper arm, like if he doesn’t hold on tightly enough Tim will slip away. “No, it’s- I’m, sorry, I just- I didn’t—”

Jon makes a noise of frustration, because of course, now that he needs them, the words won’t come easily. His eyes find Tim’s face—the gentle slope of his nose, the small birthmark by the corner of his eye, the five o’clock shadow across his jaw—before settling on his lips. And before Jon makes the conscious decision to do so, he leans forward and kisses him.

Tim makes a surprised noise against Jon’s mouth, something low and breathy. After a moment, Tim pulls back, eyes wide and cheeks flushed. “I’m sorry,” he says, more hesitantly than Jon’s ever heard him before. “Are- are you sure you—?”

Yes, Jon wants to say. I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life. I’m sure about this. I’m sure about you.

Instead, he leans forward and captures the rest of Tim’s sentence with his lips. After a moment, Tim’s hands go to Jon’s waist, pulling him close, and Jon slips his hands up to the sides of Tim’s face, feeling the heat of Tim’s skin against his as he kisses him and kisses him and kisses him.

At some point, weeks later, Tim will joke that they have Elias to thank for them finally putting an end to the mutual pining, and Jon will give a full-body shudder and say that he would rather not think of Elias when remembering their first kiss, thank you very much. But for now, Jon holds Tim close and kisses him and lets the light, giddy feeling in his chest overtake him until it feels like he’s weightless and floating, grounded only by the feeling of Tim’s hands on his hips and the way Tim smiles against his lips and whispers, softly and reverently, I love you.

I love you too, Jon says, resting his head against Tim’s shoulder to hide his smile and to try to breathe around the affection blossoming in his chest. I love you, I love you, I love you.

#tma #the magnus archives #jonathan sims #tim stoker #jontim #my writing #my fic #ft. some demiromantic tim!#anyone who guesses what the glasses reference is gets a gold star #on that note: this is my last kiss prompt!!! i've done it lads

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