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silverhallow · 1 year ago

Text

Only Fools Rush In

pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x Sophie Beckett

summary: When Benedict gets locked in the library, he doesn't expect to meet a petite blonde who was going to change his life... they say only fools rush in... but these two... they can't help but be fools

warnings: Library sex, First Dates, semi-public sex, Fingering, Blow Jobs, minors DNI

word count: 10498 words

author's note: this was previous only on AO3 and i know it was a favourite of a few and I found a copy. this will be the only version going forward.

Benedict didn't mean to be locked in the library that night.

It was the night before a major essay was due to be handed in, and the only books available to provide the answers were the kind you couldn't check out of the building.

Fair enough, he shouldn't have left it so late, but he was fairly confident he could dash off the 1,000 words required within a few hours. So when he turned up at seven-ish, fresh from a post-rowing practice shower, he wasn't even rushed.

Benedict had to admit he wasn't exactly a familiar face around the library, and not well informed about its opening hours.

The problem was, half his class was in there, sitting round that same wide table in the humanities section, and there were only so many copies of the key texts available. That meant he had to wait.

The minutes and the hours ticked away, and he did everything he could to persuade his classmates to allow him some time with the books he needed, he had look over people's shoulders, he had grab a few moments when they were in the bathroom, he even told one guy his car was about to be towed.

By the time he got hold of the information he needed, he had little more than an hour remaining before the library would close. Now he was rushed.

One thing that gave him a little comfort was that some of his fellow classmates seemed to be in more of a panic than he was and a few of them even turned up there later than he did.

By the time the fateful hour approached, when the lights would flash and the announcement came around that it was time to vacate the building, he was writing so fast his fingers were numb, but he was still nowhere close to being finished.

As most of the others packed up and headed home, incidentally, leaving all those invaluable books just lying around on their table -- he was left considering his options. Could he smuggle some of these books out with him? They were pretty huge books, pretty heavy.

Could he persuade Mr Hill to give him an extension without a valid reason? He doubted it. they didn't call him "Mentally" Hill for nothing and he really had absolutely no excuse for being late with his assignment.

However, at that stage, he honestly believed he could finish enough notes to complete his assignment within about 15 to 20 minutes. if he could survive being thrown out of the building for that long, he might just about escape with his academic record intact.

He assumed the library staff would check the building to ensure it was empty, and that if he headed up to the top floor, it would take them the longest time to discover him. So, he headed up there, to a fairly dark floor taken up mostly by Modern Languages, where he wove his way through the aisles to the furthest point he could from the central staircase.

There was a small desk there, poorly lit, where he could crash and wait for the inevitable angry librarian.

he was writing like a man possessed, his fingers scrabbling frantically over the pages to scribble down as many quotes and references as he could muster. he actually felt better and better with every passing minute, thinking that he was getting closer and closer to survival. he even relaxed a little, and forgot about the threat of the library hunter-gatherers.

And then the lights went out.

It was pretty spooky in there with the lights extinguished, it had to be said.

Partly, he had to blame Ghostbusters for putting the image of an undead librarian firmly in his head. It was mainly that which made him scrabble to stuff his precious notes into his pack and rush out of there -- he didn't really worry about what the librarians would say. What could they do? Give him detention? Not in University!

There was some illumination in the central stairway, coming from a set of lights that were clearly meant to guide the way in an emergency -- so he slowed to a leisurely pace on the way down the steps towards the ground level.

The thought that he might arrive at the front desk to find nobody there did not even cross his mind until he arrived.

"Hello?"

Silence.

"Uh... hello?"

Turning the lights off must have been the very last thing the library staff did before vacating the building. The doors at the front of the building were very firmly locked. He tried shaking them, in that pointless way that never works with locked doors.

He was trapped.

Even the main controls for the lights were out there in the lobby, sealed off just beyond reach. It was going to have to remain dark in here.

After a moment or two flexing his core muscles, he pulled out his mobile. Naturally, it being the modern digital age and all that, there was no reception. Typical.

With a moan and a sigh, he traipsed back up the steps, hoping that there might be some way that mobile signals might penetrate all these books to reach his little lump of plastic, maybe he had better chances if he climbed higher up in the building.

A couple of flights up, and he nearly had a heart attack, a pale figure was approaching him,

Benedict had never really believed in ghosts, but when you're on your own in a big empty building like that, such scepticism can fade.

After an initial shock, however, he saw that it wasn't a phantom. It was one of his classmates, a very pretty blonde by the name of Sophie.

She was wearing white sneakers, sweatpants and a jacket in the pale blue and white colours of the University gymnastics squad, her long, blonde hair tied back in a ponytail. She was hugging her books in front like some kind of shield, and looking back at him as though he might be some kind of ghost himself.

He didn't really know Sophie at all they both recognised each other from various classes, of course, but he couldn’t say they'd ever shared even a word during their classes. The place was big, their social circles just never crossed.

"Hey," she said a little breathlessly.

"Hey," he returned. "Looks like we're locked in."

"They just left?" she said, wrinkling her brow with a touch of outrage. "They didn't check if anyone was still here?"

"If they did, they didn't do it very well. I am just heading upstairs, there's no signal down there if you wanna come," he waggled his phone as an explanation.

She nodded, and stepped aside to let him through, before following closely behind as he continued the climb back up towards the top floor.

"Where were you?" he asked as they progressed up the seemingly endless steps. "When the lights went out, I mean."

"I was kind of hiding," she admitted.

"Trying to get the essay done before we got thrown out?"

"You too?" she flashed a heart-stopping smile, damn, she was really pretty.

he nodded, trying not to seem like he was staring at her. It was difficult not to, though, she was really beautiful. He was a little surprised he hadn't taken more notice of her in class.

She explained: "I had to come here straight after practice tonight, our coach kept us late. Only had an hour to work on the essay before the lights went out."

"Trying to squeeze in an extra few minutes, huh?"

"Yeah, you'd think they would've found me, though, maybe told me to leave before they went all dungeon-esque."

He was checking his phone all the way up, but by the time they got to the top floor, he still wasn't having any luck.

"Lets try over by the windows," he suggested, and she was happy enough to come along. By now, she'd dug her own mobile out of a pocket, but it appeared she was unable to get a signal either.

The windows ran round three sides of the floor, and at least allowed a little light in from the streetlamps outside. It splashed everything over there in a dull orange tint that made his new companion seem more like a ginger than a blonde.

There was to be no joy with either phone and Sophie pointed out a laminated print-out tacked to a column support that stated firmly: "No mobiles".

"Maybe they have some kind of blocking system so people can't use their phones," she suggested. "I heard they use those in cinemas and theatres."

he nodded dejectedly, but then suggested: "There must be a landline or two down at the front desk."

"What about the computers?" she said. "We could email for help."

"You need to get a password before they'll work," he said.

"Oh that's right."

And, as it turned out, it seemed like you needed some kind of password or code to use the phones down at the front desk. It wasn't as simple as dial nine to get an outside line, at any rate.

"Nine-nine-nine?" Sophie suggested.

"Let's see if there's another way out before we try that one," he said. To be honest, he felt a little too guilty to opt for the emergency number, they weren't in any immediate danger, after all, and to dial 999 might deprive someone else from a call out that might be a little more urgent.

"I was supposed to meet up with my friends later," she said. "Maybe they'll wonder where I am and send a search party."

For the next twenty minutes or so, they formed a search party and scoured the ground-level, searching from some kind of secret back door or a device to communicate with the outside.

There was nothing except a couple of fire doors, those kind that have bars on that you can push to open, but then sets off a fire alarm.

"Should we?" Sophie asked.

The issue was the notice plastered all over the door warning of £2,000 fines if the alarm was activated when it wasn't an emergency.

"It is a kind of emergency," he said.

"I'm not sure I really want to risk a £2,000 fine."

"Me neither."

They looked at each other for a moment. She had really pretty eyes, even in the dull glow of the fire door's emergency light. Just looking at her made him catch his breath a little. He was thinking it would be safer to spend the night in the library, that the threat of a £2,000 fine was too much, even with the possibility of them arguing their way out of it.

And he was also thinking it wouldn't be so bad to spend a few hours with this rather beautiful girl.

"My friends will call for help eventually," Sophie said as their pause got just that little bit too long. "I'm sure of it."

Benedict suggested; "Maybe a security guard or someone will poke their head in the door some time soon."

She smiled again, melting his insides. "Maybe. So, should we go find somewhere comfortable to sit?"

"Sure. I think the best place is probably the English Lit section there's beanbags and armchairs and so on."

"Great!"

They went up to the second floor, and sure enough found some relatively comfortable armchairs, where ordinarily the English majors could read their fiction and pretend it was work. There was even a carpeted floor, which made things seem a little warmer, although he was aware that the temperature was already beginning to drop, the heating was no longer on.

They found an area close to the windows, where at least there was a little light, although the orange glow was hardly enough to read anything by.

There was nothing but conversation to help them pass the time, and although it seemed to flow pretty freely between them, he was a little worried they'd run out of things to say at some point, and enter some kind of awkward zone.

"It's kind of funny how we've never actually spoken before," she said. "I mean it's not such a big course or anything."

"Yeah, I've been kind of immersed in the world of rowing. Those guys kind of keep to a certain crowd"

"I hear you guys are pretty good. I don't get to any of the competitions because we usually have some competition or other"

"Well, we're okay. We won't win any major championships this year, but we're winning more races than we're losing. I seem to spend most of my time competing by myself rather than with the main team anyway. How's your competition going?"

"Oh, not bad. I have a desk drawer full of various medals but I don't think any of us will make it to the Olympics, but there's a chance at the national finals for a few of us."

She sat quite close, there might have been some light from the windows, but the rest of the library was fairly intimidating, and it seemed safer to be closer together. He thought, if he leaned over, he could have touched her at that point.

At any rate, they were close enough for him to detect the faint air of her sweet perfume, and that seemed to lull him into a dreamy state as they talked.

They discussed their sports, a little about class and their classmates. they basically had no friends, even distant friends, in common.

And the theme they came back to was their complete shortage of time for things like dating. Both of them had strenuous training schedules for their sports, and there was little time to get out and meet new people.

Then at one point, Sophie said: "I'm glad I was locked in with you."

Something ignited inside him at that, but she corrected herself quickly: "I mean, I don't think I could have dealt with being on my own in here."

Benedict smiled, but underneath the surface, he thought he preferred to ignore her correction. Still, brushing over her mistake, if that's what it was, he said: "I think anyone would be pretty intimidated by this place in the dark if they were on their own."

"I think if I'd been on my own, Iwould have been straight out those fire doors, to hell with the consequences," she said.

"Maybe we should," he suggested. "I mean, we've got to be able to say this is an emergency, right?"

"I don't know. Maybe. But if they do hit us with a fine like that, that would probably be it for me, I'd have to move home, go to night school or something."

"That would be a shame," he said, then it was his turn to correct himself: "I mean, you'd have to quit the gymnastics squad and so on."

She smiled, and then tilted her head a little, like she was suddenly thinking about him in a new way.

There was a brief pause, perhaps a little too long, for while he was thinking about breaking the silence, she said: "It's simpler this way. Why risk it?"

"It won't be so bad waiting, I'm sure," he said, trying to be reassuring.

"It would be like going on a date," she said brightly, but then again seemed to feel she'd gone too far, amending herself: "I mean, you know, except it isn't."

he thought if there'd been enough light, he had probably have seen her blush right then.

"We can tell people we were on a date," he suggested, trying to defuse the tension that seemed to have crept in a little. "Less embarrassing than 'I got stuck in the library'."

"Yeah, a lot less embarrassing," she laughed. "So what happens at the end of the night? I mean, if we don't get rescued. I don't usually sleep with guys on the first date."

"We'll just have to try and stay awake," he said. "It's getting a little cold, do you want my jacket?"

She smiled, "I have a jacket. And that would leave you cold, so what good would that be?"

She had a point, but he did see her shiver a little. Maybe she'd get cold enough to move towards the decision to make a run for it through the fire door downstairs. Or, as he was beginning to hope, maybe she'd prefer to stay, and to snuggle up for warmth.

Then again Maybe one of her friends would raise the alarm before then.

"Why don't we go for another wander around?" she asked. "That'll keep us warm."

So they did another tour of the library, a little less rushed than before, when they were looking for a quick exit.

As they wandered, from aisle to aisle, section to section and floor to floor, he found out more about Sophie's relatively sheltered upbringing in rural Hampshire, while he told her a little about his early days in Kent.

They were heading back down towards the English Lit section, since there was really nowhere else as comfortable to settle down for long periods at a time, when they stumbled upon a janitor's closet in the central stairwell.

they had been checking out every door they came across by this point, every nook and cranny, so he was sure they would have found this closet eventually. It wasn't particularly exciting, you might say, except that there was a flashlight in there.

That got both of them quite excited.

"We'll be able to signal people on the outside!" he said.

"Oh, yeah, that's a great idea!" she said, as though she hadn't been thinking about the obvious use for the flashlight, as he had.

"What were you thinking we'd do with it?" he asked.

"I... uh... just thought it would be nice to have some light," she said, and as he turned the flashlight on to bathe her pretty face in light, her expression told him she agreed her idea was a little on the lame side.

"Maybe if I'm going to tell my friends I was on a date," she said instead, "I might need to tell them what you look like?"

She playfully grabbed the flashlight off him, and put the light right back into his face, dazzling him.

"Come on," she said, "let's go try out your signalling plan."

They went back to the windows in the English Lit section, figuring it was close enough to the ground to catch people's attention, but they were a little tired of walking around by then, so crashing there seemed like a good long-term strategy.

The windows ran all the way along the wall, but had a nice wide sill that could be, and usually was, used by students to sit on. It even had cushions lining it. So, naturally enough, they found themselves sitting there, Sophie leaning back against a column with her legs outstretched, and him kneeling by her feet, facing the glass itself, flickering the flashlight at the outside world.

He was pleased that the flashlight made a clear circle of light on the pavement below the building, if anyone walked by, they would have to see it.

The trouble was, nobody walked by.

"How long do you think the battery will last?" she asked after a while, disappointment in her voice.

"It's pretty bright," he replied. "Should last a fair while."

"Can you see anybody?"

"Nope. Sorry."

"It's not your fault nobody's around."

"I'm sorry our date sucks."

She giggled. "It's not the worst date I've ever been on," she said. "Not by a long shot."

"I guess it could be a lot worse than this," he conceded.

"A lot of my friends would be jealous, if they knew I was on a date with a hot rower," she said, seeming less afraid to make such a forward remark now.

"When I take someone out on a real date, I'd at least make sure there was some drink available, maybe even something to eat."

"There's a vending machine over there?"

"You want something?"

"No," she said, and in the streetlight he could see that broad smile of hers again, so beautiful it made his heart sing. "Maybe you'll just have to take me out on a proper date some time," she added with a sly smile.

"I'd love to," Benedict said, feeling like the last remaining ice between them was now well and truly thawing. "Would we call that the first date or the second?"

"I don't know."

"'Cause I've heard you don't sleep with a guy on the first date."

Sophie threw a book at him after that comment, and they both laughed, and he thought he caught her looking at him with something of a twinkle in her eye.

There was really nobody around, the library wasn't on the way anywhere, but that night it seemed like people were making a particular effort to stay away. Didn't campus security do any patrols?

After a while, there seemed no point in carrying on with the spotlight efforts and he switched the flashlight off.

Benedict suggested getting some drinks, but as they got to the vending machine over by the entrance to the stairwell, he didn't have much change on him and the machine didn't seem to be accepting notes.

"Here," Sophie said, retrieving some coins from a pocket.

their hands touched as she handed them to him, and it was hard not to notice how cold she felt.

"You're really cold," he said, concerned.

"I'm okay," she said, but he thought he even noticed her shivering a little.

he put out his hands in request for hers, which she offered somewhat meekly, her little fib revealed. Her skin was like ice, so cold she could have been a corpse especially if he considered her complexion was fairly pale aside and her lustrous blonde hair. As he held them in his, however, her hands did warm up a little.

Holding her, touching her, there was an amazing energy between them. He caressed her hands a little, ostensibly to help warm them up, but it was a little more than that.

"We could try making a run for it," he offered. "We could tell them we were freezing..."

"No, I'll be okay," she said, looking at him with those big green eyes, "I... I like being here with you."

That made him feel all warm inside. He didn't know what to say.

"Maybe I just need to run up and down the stairs a little," she said. "That'll warm me up."

She broke away from him, and suddenly leaned over backwards, making him jump a little, he didn’t know, he thought she'd fainted or something, he supposed but instead of collapsing, she just learned gracefully into a casual flip, her hands confidently placed on the floor, her feet flicking daintily over the rest of her body before touching back down on the floor so that she could right herself.

"I'll be alright," she said, with a little grin at his obvious look of wonderment.

He knew gymnasts were supposed to be flexible, but her display caught him a little off-guard.

"I wish I could do that," he said.

"I could teach you," she smirked.

"I don't think so!"

They decided to split a Coke to keep a lid on their limited supply of coins, and headed back towards the windows, since the extra light made it the least intimidating place to settle. However, this time they grabbed some bean bags from the reading area, in order to make that still a little more comfortable.

On the way back, Sophie performed a few more little cartwheels, showing off her little frame and somehow still managing to keep a grip on her bean bag.

She really was stunningly beautiful. It made Benedict want to watch her actually compete, and not only because he had got to see her without her training gear on, although he imagined that would be a delicious sight.

"See?" She said, "I've warmed up a little already."

"Great. Now if only I could do a little gymnastics..."

they settled in again, with Sophie again sitting up against that column support, and him sitting at her feet.

This time, they kicked off their shoes, and ended up much closer than the last time they were there, close enough for him to be able to breathe in her subtle but sweet scent. he savoured her alluring perfume, breathing deeply but trying not to make it too obvious the effect she was having on him.

"It's getting pretty late," she said, checking the time on her redundant phone. "I guess his friends have forgotten all about me."

"Mine probably assume I'm drunk in some gutter somewhere."

"I've never been on a first date this long before," she said.

"Is that a good thing or a bad thing?" he asked, grappling with that age-old male inability to decipher the female code, while also slightly concerned that his comment about being drunk in a gutter somewhere might have suddenly put her off.

"Oh, definitely a good thing," she smiled, and he felt a strange sense of relief sweep over him. Then she said: "No, I just thought that it's kind of like having two dates in one."

"Well, I suppose if we end up drifting off to sleep, that'll mean your first-date rule is safe," he suggested.

"I guess so," she said. "And we'd skip that awkward 'will he or won't he call' thing after a first date."

They both chuckled at that.

Then he stuck his proverbial neck out, and said: "So if our next date is our third date, does that mean you'll sleep with me then as well?"

There was a slight pause, which seemed to him to take an age to end. Had he taken things too far? Was she going to bolt out of here and rush for that fire door, to Hell with the consequences? Maybe he had disappointed her, maybe he was being crude.

But her mouth curled into a seductive smile, and she said: "Well, that just depends."

"Depends on what?" he said, innocently enough.

Then she was up on all fours, her pretty face moving towards his. She said, "On how good a kisser you are."

Sophie leaned forward, and he could not believe his luck. his world was filled with her pretty face, her sweet fragrance, her soft yet burning lips.

After his initial shock at their sudden dash to first base, he tentatively kissed her back, echoing her delicate exploration of his own lips, gazing into those sultry eyes as he breathed nothing but her glorious scent, a heady mix of sweet vanilla perfume and the subtle mustiness of her natural aroma.

he was quite breathless when at last they parted.

"Wow," she said, apparently as breathless as him.

"So did I pass?"

"Hmm..." she said, shuffling forward. "Well, I think you passed the first part of the test."

"How many parts are there?"

"Oh, lots."

Then she leaned forwards again, and once again they were sharing the sweetest of kisses. He was burning up inside, he had never kissed anyone like this before, her effect on him was like some kind of drug.

As they tangled, he touched her soft cheek, marvelling at her beauty. He gently cradled her head as their tongues danced together, and it wasn't long before her hands swept up to press him towards her, and they were locked in the most incredible heat.

"You know the perfect way to warm a girl up," she said as they parted again, both a little short on oxygen.

"Happy to be of service," he said.

"We might have to cool down a bit."

"Too much for a second date?"

"Too much for being this close to the windows!" she giggled.

"There's absolutely nobody around!"

"But there might be!"

"You want to stop?" he asked, wondering what they'd do instead, since there was now a whole different kind of energy between them.

"No," she smiled slyly, then picked up her bean bag and dropped it onto the floor beside them. "Just relocate slightly."

he dropped his own bean bag next to hers, and they did as she suggested, and were soon happily entangled once again.

Being on the floor gave them a lot more room, a lot more freedom. Benedict drew out the band from her ponytail, and as he kissed her mouth, he was able to run his fingers through her silky hair.

he caressed her face, her chin, her slender neck, luxuriating in the velvet-soft texture of her skin, teasing out a quiet moan from this exquisite creature.

The bean bags were surprisingly accommodating as they writhed together, Sophie now clamping her coltish legs around his body, pressing herself close. He could tell that all her gymnastics training made her extremely strong, as well as flexible.

he kissed his way slowly down from underneath her left ear, down her neck, and her moans grew a little in intensity.

"Oh that's nice," she moaned when he approached the base of her neck.

But then when he moved his fingers to her throat to unzip her training top, he met with resistance.

"Wait," she whispered, "I didn't get time to shower after gymnastics."

"It doesn't matter," he said, with a soothing tone he hoped to encourage her to open up, without feeling in any way forced. "I want you. just the way you are."

He tasted her lips once again, and felt her resistance melt away, and she was actively unfastening her training jacket by herself, drawing the zip slowly down her chest to reveal the sleek, dark material of her leotard beneath.

he felt her petite frame rise to his touch as his hands roamed over her tight leotard, exploring her tantalising curves. She had a fairly typical gymnast's figure, he guessed, slim and agile, with a flat stomach and small waist, while her breasts were fairly large, they appeared very sensitive to his soft caresses.

She was so hot to the touch, even through her leotard, the material seemed to be a perfect conductor of her heat.

he brushed his palms gently over her chest, finding her nipples hard now, poking up against the thin material. Through her leotard, he teased the little buttons, forcing out some louder moans from Sophie though their lips were still locked firmly together, while her pretty eyes flashed at him with unbridled lust.

As he continued to caress the soft curves of her breasts, grazing her nipples with the tips of his fingers, he slowly kissed his way down her neck once again, taking it further this time without the hindrance of her jacket, to the edge of her gymnastics costume.

That daintily musty aroma from her earlier workout was a touch stronger lower down, but only seemed to spur him on, stirring his blood and making his heart pound in his chest.

He wanted so much more.

He was careful to watch for any signs that she might be uncomfortable with how far they were taking this, they had, after all, only really known each other for a brief time. But she seemed in no mood to stop, quietly groaning as he took one of her little buds in his mouth, teasing it with his tongue through the thin leotard while his hands continued to coax her breasts and sweep down to explore the elegant curves of her waist and back.

"You're so beautiful," he said in barely more than a whisper, and she just beamed at him in reply before moaning once again as he slipped his fingers under the edge of her relatively low-cut leotard, to glide over her bare skin and down to those stiff little nipples.

he felt her tremble as he touched her bare breasts, her body writhing at the sensations flowing through her.

Stroking her nipples with his fingers, he caressed her belly with his lips, breathing in that alluring scent while planting kisses over her graceful contours. Her aroma grew stronger as he approached the waistband of her sweatpants and he thought he detected the first traces of her arousal.

he couldn't get enough of it. Call him greedy if you will, but he just wanted more and more.

Fearing that she'd feel they were going too far, that she'd call a halt to everything any moment, he very gradually nudged against the top of her sweatpants, gently easing the material downwards to edge closer and closer towards her promised land.

Each time he got a little closer, he kissed his way back up her stomach to her breasts, taking her stiff little nipples back inside his hot mouth, albeit through her leotard.

Her breathing was more like a series of sighs now, she was lying back with her head turned to the side, just letting the sensations wash over her. She didn't look as though she wanted to stop any time soon.

The adrenalin was buzzing around his system, his heart beating like a drum in a rock band. He paused, wondering if he should play it safe, take it slow, and keep to the area they had already explored.

It has to be said, it was already quite far for a first date, whatever they were calling it now. he would have been perfectly happy if she wanted to slow it down, of course, but there and then he decided he wasn't going to take the safe option just then. he had stop if she wanted, but the possibilities were so tantalising, he had to at least try.

Subtly, attempting to avoid any chance that she'd suddenly become afraid or nervous, he shifted slightly, downwards, still lying beside her where she had the option to flee if she needed to, but coming to rest in a position where he could pursue a more thrilling course.

He was kissing delicately along the thin material of her leotard, just above her waistline but again nudging her sweatpants down a little, when she reached down to unfasten the cord tied around her waist. If this wasn't an invitation to continue, he doesn't know what it was.

It set his pulse racing again, the thought buzzing around his head that this exquisite creature was opening herself up to him, that he might get to sample her sweet nectar , even after just a few hours of knowing her.

He felt like the luckiest guy in the world, and once she had the knot unfastened, he gently slid her sweatpants down over her slender hips, revealing the rest of her leotard, her sweet mound, her smooth thighs. She actively helped him to pull the garment off her, boosting his own confidence and reassuring him a little that she was warm enough to part with it just then.

"You think we're moving beyond the realms of the second date?" she said, looking down at him with those big doe eyes.

"You want to stop?" he asked, with a sly smile that implied that he was fairly sure she didn't.

"We could just call this the start of our third date," she said, one of her hands running through his hair.

"That sounds good to me," he said, kissing her upper thigh, just below the high-cut arch of her leotard, tasting that slight saltiness on her skin.

Then she touched his chin, tilted his head up to look into her eyes, and she said: "You don't have to. I mean, I know I had gymnastics earlier and"

"I can't get enough of you," he said interrupting her, kissing her lower abdomen just an inch or two above that exhilarating rise of her mound.

"Mmm... then take whatever you want..." she replied with a moan that made him quiver inside.

He kissed the bare skin over her hips, then down to her inner thighs, indulging himself in her beauty, her velvet skin, and that fizzing sense of anticipation as he edged closer to the very centre of her arousal.

Her skin was already warm to the touch, but as he moved closer to the edge of her leotard, the heat grew noticeably, along with the unmistakable aroma of her juices.

Then he was brushing over her mound, her leotard moist to the touch, his nose and mouth pressing gently into her raw heat. He had repositioned himself between her slender thighs, and it was like every one of his senses was saturated with her.

Sophie was lying back again, her eyes closed, her arms by her sides, her hands clutching at the beanbag beneath her as he ran his tongue slowly along the thin material covering her pussy.

Tasting her, such a glorious spicy cocktail, now it was his turn to moan softly, letting out his own feelings while letting her know just how much he loved to be there, just how much he adored such intimate contact. She seemed to relax a little at this reassurance, to know he wasn't just doing this to impress her, to make her feel good.

he spread his hot mouth over her lycra-covered pussy, pressing against her and feeling that slight give in the centre, her pussy lips opening up to him.

Her gentle moans gave way to a gasp as he peeled her leotard aside to reveal her pussy to the cool air and, despite the relatively poor lighting conditions, his gaze. So beautiful, so smooth under its tidy patch of dark hair, her fragrant flower drew him in.

She trembled as she felt first his hot breath on her sensitive folds, then the soft touch of his lips. Oh-so briefly, he tasted her from the source, and her moans seemed to turn almost to pleading, but rather than pile in, he moved back for a moment, kissing her inner thighs again, taking in that wonderful sight before he got too close.

Then his burning mouth returned to her soft pussy lips, and he was kissing her there, licking her, playing with her, dipping his tongue inside her to sample her sweet nectar.

He was moaning again as he tasted her spice, revelling in his being so close to her, so connected. He gently parted her legs a little more to offer him maximum access as his tongue traced the length of her slick valley, lapping up her juices.

And then he was kissing around her little clitoris, warming up the sensitive little bud before getting too close, using his fingers to caress her pussy lips before sliding gently inside her.

Her moans soon turned to blissful cries, his mouth engulfing her clit even as her pussy engulfed his middle finger, her labia tight around it in a manner that made his cock rock hard down below.

Moving from lapping up her now freely flowing juices to taking her clit into his mouth, he felt she was beginning to move towards some kind of resolution. he started to suck her clit a little more forcefully, and with his finger sought out that sensitive spot on the front wall of her pussy.

She was writhing about under him by now, his tongue flicking over her clit, his finger being squeezed by her gymnast's muscles.

And she was coming, trembling and crying out as she did so, his tongue now swirling around her soaking labia, his nose pressed against her burning clit, her hands clamping his head to her pulsating pussy, her thighs pressing against his ears.

When her grip relaxed, he knew enough to break away from her sensitive zone, loving that the taste of her remained on his lips.

"Oh God..." was all she said for a while, over and over, breathless, lolling back as though drained of all energy. Then, "That's never happened before."

Moving up beside her, he couldn't help the curiosity: "Really?"

"I didn't think boys like to -- you know."

they edged closer to him, turning to face away from him so that He could spoon up against her.

"Some do," He said. "With the right person."

She let out a little satisfied sigh, almost a mew. "I've never felt anything like it. It was the most amazing feeling."

"It was pretty amazing for me, too," He smiled, and glanced at his watch, hoisting his eyebrows a little at the apparent fact that he had been between her thighs for about half an hour.

"I take it You like it?"

"With you, I adore it."

"How come?"

"Are you kidding? Getting that close to someone as stunning as you? How could I not? You know your pheromones can drive a guy crazy? And I was mainlining..."

"You are crazy," she said, "that's true enough."

Wedged up against her, he couldn't help but sweep his hands over her, taking in her tight curves, her wonderfully smooth skin. He moved her hair out of the way and kissed the back of her neck, the warm smell of her hair and her perfume seeming so comforting to him.

"Mmm... if you're not careful, you'll get me going again in a minute," she said, his hands brushing over her tender breasts, down her stomach.

"That's fine by me," he said softly, kissing her ear.

She smiled, "But it's my turn."

"Your turn?"

"Don't you know the rules? I show you mine, you have to show me yours."

"Ah. Well, if those are the rules..."

"They are," she insisted, and suddenly picked herself up. "I am going to get another drink, and then I'm going to take what's mine.

She did a little twirl and without putting on the rest of her clothes, she padded off towards the vending machine, performing a few little cartwheels along the way.

He watched her as she was consumed by the shadows, and then emerged in the light of the stairwell and the vending machine itself. He still had her flavour on his lips, and he savoured it, his loins now stirring at the anticipation of her return.

A loud clang from the vending machine, and she was on her way back, sipping as she went.

"You want some?" she asked as she came to a halt in front of him.

"Sure," he said, pulling himself up to his feet.

She gave him the bottle, and as he took a swig, she nearly choked him in surprise as her hands scoped out the hardness between his thighs.

"Mmm..." she grinned. "What have we got here?"

Dropping down to kneel in front of him, she quite suddenly slid his pants down over his hips, exposing him to the cold air.

"You really mean business!" he laughed.

Sophie seemed to catch her breath, then purred, "Oh, it's beautiful. Can I touch it?"

"Could I ever say 'no' to you?"

"I hope not!"

he felt her cool hands tentatively touch his stiff cock, taking in its shape, its hardness, stroking his shaft a little.

Then she leaned forward to kiss it, and he felt her hot breath on his sensitive organ. She traced his shaft with her tongue, starting towards the base, then slowly moving towards the end, planting the occasional kiss as she went along. She was trying it out, exploring.

"So smooth," she said.

"I might need to sit down," he said.

With a smile, she put a foot down on his pants so that he would have to remove them to relocate, which he did without much protest. he perched on the window seat once more, his back to the window to shield them from the prying eyes that Sophie thought might be there, though really were not.

She placed a bean bag between his feet and knelt down in front of him once again.

"Ready?" she asked, flashing a broad smile with those beautiful eyes somehow lit up.

he replied: "more than."

"Okay," she said, then gave him a serious look for a moment, "and don't you stop until you're ready , if you get my meaning."

"Whatever you say."

Then he felt his cock engulfed in her warmth, her tongue swirling around his sensitive tip while she seemed to roll the head of his cock around her mouth, letting it fill her, then withdraw, then refill that wonderful hotness, those pretty lips stretched around him.

he could do little but gasp at the sensations rippling through his body, he was having a hard time remembering to support himself as he leaned back towards the window.

As she tended to him with her mouth, she also used her hands to explore him, taking in his thighs and calves as well as up to his hard cock. She cradled his balls softly and flashed him a cheeky smile.

Then she was focussing all efforts on his erection, teasing out a deep moan from him as she upped the tempo, her head beginning to bob up and down on his shaft.

It was wonderful, and the adoration in her eyes when she looked up at him just took it to a whole new level, and he knew he wouldn't last long. The vibrations from her own breathing and little moans helped build up this energy inside him that could not be held back.

he could feel his orgasm surging up, and for a moment, hoped he hadn't misinterpreted her earlier request for him to keep going. The energy bubbled up inside him, and suddenly it was too late to hold back, his cock throbbing as his hot seed emerged.

Sophie seemed happy enough to take his come in her mouth, and as he came down from the great high she'd taken him to, she was lapping at his softening cock and making little contented noises.

"God you have a beautiful cock," she said, pulling away from him as he became just that little bit too sensitive to continue.

"I just can't get enough."

he returned her smile, "You can have as much as you like," he said.

"I'll hold you to that, mister."

He felt the cold pretty quickly afterwards, and reached for his pants as Sophie took to performing a few cartwheels in front of him.

"Are you not a little cold?" he asked, since she seemed in no hurry to put on her training jacket or sweatpants.

"Not even a little bit!" she said mid-spin, "feels like I'm burning up inside!"

She came to a halt and stepped between his legs, where he could hold onto her, his hands pressed to her little waist. True enough, he could feel her heat through that thin leotard -- she wasn't even a little bit cold.

"I'm buzzing all over," she said, her elfin face so beautiful as she looked down at him like that, smouldering with desire.

he couldn't help but slip his hands round to her shapely little butt, and ducked forward to plant a kiss just above her mound.

He knew what she meant -- it felt like a thousand Christmases happening at once, he was still shaking a little from the raw adrenaline flowing through his system as a result of merely being with this hot little gymnast. But underneath that, he could tell well enough how cold it was.

"I think I might need some chocolate to get my energy back," he said.

Thankfully, the vending machine was relatively well stocked with calorific candy bars, no doubt to keep those little grey cells going when students were up against their deadlines. They had enough change for a Mars Bar each, which they both devoured like ravenous beasts, perched on the nearest step in the stairwell.

"So I've lost track of which date we're on now," he said between mouthfuls of chocolate.

"I think we must be on number five or six by now," she said. "The things you did to me, we must be."

"So does that mean it's all right for us to sleep together?"

"I think it's now required," she grinned.

"So what's next?"

Sophie jumped to her feet, then reached out for his hands, which he presented to her only to be pulled up himself. "Next," she said, "we should head up to the top floor."

"What's up there?"

"Oh, nothing much..." there was a glint in her eye.

So, curious as to what was on her mind, he followed her up to the top of the building, where it turned out her target was the female restroom.

"See you in a minute," she said, stopping him outside the door.

She went inside, and the door closed behind her, leaving him waiting there, standing in the glow from the stairwell and facing the dark shelves. He was beginning to wonder what she was planning, but then she came back out, too quick for a bathroom break, he thought.

"That was quick," he said.

"Got what I came for," she said, with that mischievous glint in her eyes again.

She held up her hand, and inside it was a box of condoms.

"Are you shocked?" she asked meekly.

He was Rock hard between his thighs, he thought his cock was making some kind of a statement, but his brain was a little unsure what to say.

In a little haze of lust and surprise, he said: "Well, if we are on date five or six..."

"Exactly," she grinned, and walked past him. "Come on, I can't wait."

She walked into the bookshelves, no longer concerned about the darkness in fact, actively seeking it out, walking along a crack in the floor tiles like it was a balancing beam. As she went, he couldn't help but stare at her sexy butt squeezed inside that leotard.

A moment later, he managed to break out of his daze, scampering after his horny little gymnast.

"Must be a table around here, somewhere," she was saying as he caught up. There was, and she didn't waste a moment perching on its edge, holding out her arms to pull him towards her.

They kissed again, the sparks flying as her tongue slipped inside his mouth. As they tangled, her hands were pulling his clothes off, and his hands were in her hair, then slipping down to the neckline of her leotard and under the thin material.

"Wait," she said, stopping him from peeling it off her. "I want you to fuck me in my gymnastics costume."

"Okay..."

She grinned, "Maybe it'll be my lucky suit from now on."

Then off came his boxers, and Sophie was tearing open a condom packet, peeling the thing down his erect cock.

He stopped briefly, nudging aside her damp leotard to reveal the pretty petals of her open pussy. He kissed around it a little, savouring her juices and running his tongue up to envelope her clit in his hot mouth.

She was already so wet he just craved that tangy, saltiness of her pussy one last time before he filled it.

Then she was coaxing him upwards and forwards, pulling him close so his hardness pressed against her heat.

"Fuck me," she said, gazing into his eyes.

Careful to keep their protection in place, he touched the head of his cock at the entrance to her pussy, feeling that irresistible heat radiating from her as he nudged forwards.

Looking in her beautiful almond eyes, he eased inside her, sliding his shaft into her tightness, feeling her enclose him, her feet coming up behind him to pull him in. Her arousal was obvious as he glided inside her, her juices coating his cock.

"Oh God, that's amazing," she breathed. He thought he murmured something in reply, but it was all a little overwhelming to say anything intelligible.

he withdrew, and the expression on her pretty face was almost one of pleading, desperate for more. Slick with her juices already, he thrust his cock back inside her, his entire shaft tingling with the ecstatic sensations of her hot pussy enveloping him and the exquisite feeling of being inside such a beautiful girl as Sophie.

Gazing back into his eyes, his pretty little gymnast let out a quiet gasp, her lips spreading in a blissful smile.

they moved together, slowly at first, though building up pace in no time. Kissing her, caressing her, holding her, it was the most blissful sensation he had ever experienced. Her pussy was so firm, so hot as it squeezed his shaft.

She lay back against the tabletop, and his hands found their way around her smooth curves to the gentle rise of her chest, and her hard little nipples straining against her leotard.

The air was thick with the scent of her arousal, blended with her perfume, which seemed to drive him on like some kind of magic.

Then, quite suddenly, all the lights in the library were switched on.

For a long moment, they froze mid-thrust, looking at each other with the kind of dazed surprise that a rabbit might have when facing a pair of oncoming headlamps.

they were still apart from the rise and fall of their chests as they drew in oxygen to recover from their exertions.

There was a curious mixture of emotions, both of them so swamped with adrenaline, their bodies wracked with lust for each other. His cock was still so hard, buried inside her, and even though he was more than a little nervous that they were about to be discovered, it was still such a thrill to be inside her, and she was now bathed in light, revealing her full beauty to him.

That moment seemed to go on for ages. they did nothing but listen, and eventually heard the low sound of voices. They were somewhere on the bottom floor, and to him the obvious source was a couple of security guards doing a routine patrol.

Whoever it was down there, they didn't seem to be rushing their patrol. The library was fairly large, so after that momentary freeze, he thought both of them started to relax at once.

"We should get out of here," he whispered.

Sophie flashed him a look of pure lust.

"I'm so close," she said, "Just a little longer?"

He raised his eyebrows at the riskiness of the suggestion, but slowly began to move inside her, squeezing his hips to withdraw, then thrust again.

"You'd better be quiet," he whispered, as she started moaning quietly again.

"I'll try," she said. "Now fuck me! I'm right on the edge!"

With her prompting, he penetrated her hot pussy, building up his power until they were both shaking the table as they writhed together.

He wondered if the prospect of being caught added to the thrill of the situation, for it really took no time at all before Sophie was trembling again with another orgasm, and he could see her desperately trying to stifle her cries as the forceful climax swept through her petite frame.

Caressing her slender curves as he continued to thrust inside her, he held himself a little in check until he was absolutely certain she was over the edge and there was no heading back.

At last, he released and felt that glorious sensation of his hot seed flowing out inside the condom.

Spent, he collapsed on top of her for a brief lull, and they were kissing again, feeling so at one with each other.

Then the overriding imperative of their lust began to fade, and the sense of panic started to return. Where were the security guards?

He lifted himself up and reached down for his clothes, the condom discarded in a thankfully full bin. Sophie sat up to pull the crotch of her leotard over to re-cover up her sweet little pussy.

"Where are they?" she asked in another whisper.

he paused, listening. "I think they're coming up the stairs," he said. "But they're not on this floor yet."

"What if they're coming to get us?"

"Because of my flashlight antics?" he asked.

"I don't know," she smiled, "maybe flashing is against uni rules."

"Can't be. Half the Union groups would be shut down."

She giggled, "Come on!" and grabbed his hand, and they were off again, this time skulking through the shelves like a couple of cat burglars.

"We could just tell them we got locked in," he suggested in a hushed voice.

"If we were both fully dressed and didn't smell like sex, that might have worked," Sophie grinned. "If they find me like this, I think we'd be in trouble."

"D'you think we can get past them?" she asked. "Maybe get out of here?"

Part of him was a little sad at this possibility, craving more time with this hot little gymnast. they'd only had a few hours together, and although they were joking about being on their fifth or sixth date by now, the reality was that they had only just met. There was still the possibility that this would turn out to be nothing more than a crazy one-night stand.

And though he had not really taken much time out from rowing to really think about maintaining a full-on relationship, something had changed in him tonight. He wanted as much of Sophie as he could possibly get.

Still, being a man, his pride kicked in and he stifled his concerns, saying casually, "You think left the library doors unlocked?"

"There's a good chance. The trick is going to be getting past them."

They crept to the stairwell, and edged over the bannister to see if they could spot any movement, both listening out for any noise that might offer a clue as to the security guards' whereabouts.

"We could just hide," he whispered, "then continue as though they'd never come."

"We could. But wouldn't you rather have a warm bed than a whole night in this cold place?"

She had a fair point.

"I guess so," he said, perhaps a hint of regret in his voice despite the powerful sense of physical satisfaction currently flowing through his veins.

He was about to suggest that they could go back to his place, or hers, if she preferred, when she held a finger up to her lips, silencing him. they could see hands gripping the handrail a few flights below them the security guards were coming up the stairs towards them.

they poised to flee.

From the sound of them, there appeared to be two campus security guards, and they appeared in no hurry to clamber up the steps. Their voices were as relaxed as their climbing pace, and actually made them relax a little, clear as it was that they were here on a routine patrol, not targeting two horny students loose in the library.

Still, as they arrived on the floor below them, they were on a hair trigger ready to explode into a mad dash for the safety of the bookshelves behind them.

Somehow, they held their nerves. he thought if the guards had taken one more step up towards them, they would have sprang into action, but after a long pause in which it became apparent that their conversation was tending towards the following weekend's rowing competition, their patrol route veered off into the floor below them.

they waited a little longer, counting time using the pounding beats of their nervous hearts.

Then he looked at Sophie and she nodded. Silently, they pulled themselves up and took to the steps, tip-toeing their way down to the floor below.

The guards' voices were getting steadily quieter and quieter, they were heading down towards the outer perimeter of the floor, by the windows. Sophie peered around the edge of the doorway, and looked back to give him the signal to proceed. Then both of them scampered down the next flight of stairs, alert for the slightest hint that they had been discovered.

Feeling a little safer, they headed back down to the second floor where they had left their stuff.

"Do we risk it?" he whispered.

"I'm not going outside like this." he could accept that -- she had to be cold enough already dressed in nothing but her leotard. She added: "You stay here and keep a look out, I'll get your stuff too."

he nodded, and she scurried off towards their beanbags. If anything, he was feeling a little gloomy at the end of their library adventure, but if did something to thwart their chances of escape now, she might never forgive him. He had to go along with it.

A little while later, he heard the voices of the security guards again. He was almost willing them to come downstairs, to head th off at the pass and seal off their route of escape so that he might be locked up once again with Sophie.

They didn't, however, they were heading up to the top floor, and momentarily, Sophie returned dressed in her jacket and sweatpants again, clutching their papers.

"Can't forget these," she smiled.

he returned her smile, "Absolutely."

Then she grabbed his hand again, and pulled him downstairs and out towards the main entrance.

His last chance was that the security-conscious guards had re-locked the main doors behind them after they entered the building. they would then have to hide somewhere on the bottom floor and hope that they had already satisfied themselves that that floor was secure. his heart in his throat, he reached out to push the door.

It opened.

Silently, he groaned his disappointment. Was that it? Now that they were free to go wherever they wanted, would Sophie want to see him again?

Outside, it was drizzling, only adding to his sudden misery. They continued to hold hands, but paced it away from the building and possible detection by campus security. Round the next corner, they stopped to catch their breaths.

"Well I guess this is good-bye, then," he said, more than a little gloomy.

"Are you crazy?" she said in a somewhat sharp tone.

"Well..." he wasn't really sure what to say.

"You know you're required to actually sleep with me?" Her statement filled his entire being with the warmth of pure unadulterated joy.

"I am?" was all he could utter, his brain suffering something of a power overload.

"Do You do want to?" she asked, and there was now a hint of worry in her voice and heartbreak evident on her face.

"Of course! I'd give anything to..."

"Good," she grinned, and grabbed a hold of his hand again. "Only, we're not going to sleep very much."

"No? I like the sound of that."

"No," said Sophie. "We're going to go back to my place so I can have that long-overdue shower..."

"And then?"

"And then I'm going to tear off your clothes and fuck the living daylights out of you."

She looked at him with those big, beautiful eyes, and he knew that for them, this night was only just beginning in and that it was going to turn out to be the best night of his life so far and the start of something very special.

#bridgerton #benophie #benophie smut #benedict bridgerton #benedict bridgerton smut #sophie beckett #benedict x sophie #ash's smut

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agent-kihyun · 4 years ago

Text

neighbors [ldh]

pairing: Neighbor!Hyuck x reader (feat. 00 line)

wc: 6.1K

rating: R/18+

warnings: explicit smut; oral (female receiving), unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!), flirting, making out, sex jokes

summary: When Lee Haechan moves in across the hall from you, you must figure out how to resist his charm in order to prove a point to your roommates. But what’s the harm in giving into temptation?

↣

The minute that your neighbor across the hall, an older woman who lived alone, passed away, you were mildly relieved. Yes, you know that sounds...bad. But, in your defense, she was rather mean to you and often complained to the landlord about you and your roommates despite the three of you not disturbing her.

You had hoped the landlord wasn’t planning on filling the empty apartment with new people again, but much to your dismay, within days the new apartment is rented out to a new tenant already. But what could you do? It was happening whether you liked it or not.

“Hey, have you heard?” your roommate, Bomi, bursts into the apartment practically screaming.

You casually flip a page in the magazine that you’re skimming, “Heard what?”

“Oh, don’t play dumb,” Bomi shuts the door and walks over to you, snatching your magazine out of your hands.

“Hey! Give that back! I literally have no idea what you’re talking about!” You half-heartedly reach up for your magazine.

“We’re getting new neighbors, you dweeb!” Bomi laughs in excitement.

“You’re a dweeb,” you pout and re-open your magazine, continuing to skim the pages.

“Are you not excited about getting new neighbors?” Your roommate scoffs.

“I couldn’t care less, to be honest,” you shrug.

“You’re unbelievable. I’m pretty sure they’re our age,” she smacks your knee to get your attention.

“Okay. Cool.”

“Hey! Show some enthusiasm!” Bomi whines.

“What are you trying to get her to show enthusiasm for?” Another one of your roommates, Gaeun, walks into the living room from her room.

“We’re getting new neighbors! I just saw them moving in across the hall into Mrs. Kim’s old place! They’re really cute,” Bomi explains to Gaeun.

“Really? Oh my gosh, let me see,” Gaeun rushes to the door and takes a quick peek as your new neighbors move their boxes into their apartment.

“You guys are so lame. We never interact with any of our neighbors anyway, what's the big deal?” You roll your eyes and finally put your magazine down.

“Because...they’re hot,” Gaeun says after she closes the door.

“Bomi just said they’re cute, so which is it?”

“Don’t be such a smartass,” Bomi says to you and you cross your arms in indignation.

“Let’s go welcome them! Introduce ourselves so they, y’know, like are familiar with someone around here,” Gaeun suggests with a wink.

“If they’re still moving their stuff in, it’s probably not a good time. Just wait till they’re--” You begin.

“Shh, I wasn’t asking you,” Gaeun sends you a quick glare and you shoot daggers back at her.

“Yeah, let’s go say hi!” Bomi grins and the two take off faster than the speed of light.

You stand in the foyer of your apartment, alone and now in a sour mood. You decide that there’s only one thing that can cheer you up at the moment: ice cream. You quickly grab your phone, keys and wallet, slip on your shoes and swiftly leave the apartment.

Your two roommates, standing in the doorway of your new neighbors’ apartment, call you over to say hi, as if they totally didn’t just ditch you, but you ignore them and take the staircase instead of the elevator.

You take a good hour at the ice cream parlor, eating ice cream by yourself and trying to distract yourself from the events from earlier. Why did you have to care about new neighbors? Why did Bomi and Gaeun make you feel like less than for not caring? Who cares if they’re hot? Maybe they were right for giving you weird looks, you think.

The ice cream does nothing for you. Instead, you try to cheer yourself up by getting your comfort foods from the grocery store. A pint of your favorite ice cream and snacks always made you feel much better.

With your food in hand, you walk home with a small smile on your face, having completely forgotten about your roommates. When you arrive back to the apartment, you see that the moving truck that was previously there when you left, is now gone. With that knowledge, you take the elevator up to your floor. You take the time in the elevator to begin snacking, but stop yourself so you can enjoy the rest in the comfort of your own home.

However, as you glance at your new neighbor’s door, you know you’d have to wait a little longer to eat your food. You felt bad for simply storming off earlier and not even waving to the new people on your floor. With a heavy sigh you find yourself walking to their door to formally introduce yourself.

3 knocks to the door and it’s swinging open. A young man stands before you, giving you a mildly perplexed look. Right off the bat you know you’re doomed. Your roommates were right about your new neighbors (or at least one of them) being handsome. If he looks this good, what do others look like?

“Hello? Can I help you?” his voice snaps you out of it.

“Oh...yeah, um, I just wanted to introduce myself. I’m your neighbor,” you stick out your hand for him to shake and tell him your name. The young man looks down at your hand and back up at your face before taking your hand in his and shaking it twice. His hand lingers in yours before you pull yours away.

“You can call me Haechan,” he gives you a flashy grin. You return his smile, thinking that maybe you were wrong to judge your neighbor before even meeting him.

“I live across from you,” You point to the door on the other side of the elevator landing space, “I’m pretty sure you met my two other roommates earlier.”

“Oh yeah, you ignored them and left them hanging. Kind of a dick move, in my honest opinion,” he leans against his doorframe, crossing his arms and a smug expression on his face. Your jaw drops at his statement.

So you weren’t entirely wrong. What a little shit.

“Not that it’s any of your business, but in my defense, they were dicks to me right before that and I wasn’t in the mood to pretend like I was happy,” you cross your arms as well. Haechan laughs and shakes his head.

“I guess that’s fair. My roommates can be dicks too sometimes so I understand,” he shrugs. “Do you want to meet them as well?”

“Um…” you trail off, unsure if you wanted to introduce yourself to the others at the moment.

“Come on, they won’t bite,” Haechan winks at you. Something about the delivery of his comment makes your cheeks heat up, but you decide to just go for it.

“Okay,” you say, and before you know it, Haechan is tugging you into his apartment, shutting the door behind you.

Once inside, you look around and find boxes everywhere. Some of them were open, some of them were still sealed; of course since they were unpacking. There was a blue sofa in the middle of the room, two other males sitting on it and unpacking boxes. One was in the kitchen, also unpacking, you assumed.

“Hey, we have a guest!” Haechan announces, and suddenly there were 4 pairs of eyes on you. One of the guys on the couch stands up and walks over to you. He takes your hand in his and presses a chaste kiss to your knuckles.

“Nice to meet you, I’m Jaemin,” he smiles at you and it takes everything in you not to laugh, so instead you send him a tight-lipped smile. You quickly deduce he was the flirty type, and that you’d probably endure a lot more of his flirting if you were to hang out with these guys often.

“Hey, knock it off you weirdo, you’re gonna scare her,” the one from the kitchen walks over and offers his hand for you to shake. You quickly shake it, afraid he might do the same thing as Jaemin.

“I’m Renjun, and don’t worry, I won’t kiss your hand. Some of us are normal, I promise,” he shoots a glare at Jaemin, who rolls his eyes in response. You softly laugh at Renjun and then your eyes move over to the last one, who is still sitting on the couch.

“Oh, I’m Jeno. It’s nice to meet you! Sorry I can’t get up right now, I sprained my ankle earlier today while moving our stuff in,” He gave you a sheepish smile.

“Aw I’m sorry about your ankle, I hope it gets better!” you offer your condolences. Jeno smiles and nods in gratitude.

“And your name?” Jaemin asks. You casually provide your name for the 3 other boys to hear and they nod.

“Truly a pleasure to meet you,” Jaemin beams at you.

“Would you like to stay for awhile?” Haechan suddenly asks from beside you.

“Oh...I appreciate the offer, but you guys look like you’re busy unpacking. Plus I was hoping to spend some quality time with...my...ice cream,” You hold up the food in it’s plastic bag.

“Ah don’t worry about us unpacking, I mean you can help too,” Haechan says, and Renjun smacks his arm then shoots him a disapproving look. You nervously chuckle and shift on your feet.

“Don’t worry about it. You’re free to go. It was delightful to meet you and your roommates, it’s nice to know we have some friends our age here,” Renjun tells you and you nod.

“It was delightful meeting you all too. I don’t know what my roommates told you, but if you have any questions about the building or something, you can always ask us,” you tell them while opening their front door.

“Thanks! Much appreciated!” Jeno waves goodbye to you. You wave to the four boys as you exit the apartment.

Just as you begin to close the door, Haechan slips out right after you.

“Hey, wait,” he calls out and you turn around to face the boy.

“Don’t be a stranger, okay?” he says, a glimmer of hope in his eyes. You give him a small smile in return.

“Give me a good reason not to be,” you tell him before you turn back to your apartment.

Haechan stares at you as you unlock your door and disappear into your own apartment, unsure of what to make of your remark. As he walks back to his own place, a smirk on his lips, he thinks of all the ways to make sure you stick around.

“Be careful what you ask for…”

↣

After Haechan’s first encounter with you, he finds any way possible to see you more. He makes it his mission to give you plenty of good reasons for you not to be a stranger (technically, per your request).

The first incident is more...accidental. If anything, he would have to blame the mail delivery person for this.

As Haechan arrives at the apartment building from his last class of the day, he decides to check his mailbox for his unit. He quickly gathers the envelopes and advertisement cards that were stuffed into his mailbox and locks it, then walks toward the elevator while sifting through it to see if there’s anything for him.

The only problem is that he doesn’t see his name...or any of his roommates’ names. He sees yours and your roommates’ names. He sighs in slight frustration at how incompetent the mail delivery person had to be to mix up his mail with yours but then a lightbulb goes off in his head. You need your mail...so he’s going to have to give it to you...which means…

When the elevator reaches your floor, Haechan makes an immediate beeline for your door. He knocks a few times before you swing the door open, confusion written in your features as you take in Haechan leaned up against your door frame.

“Donghyuck.”

Haechan’s--or Donghyuck’s--smug expression fades instantly at the use of his legal name.

“H-how did you--?”

“It was on your mail, which somehow ended up in my mailbox,” you cross your arms as you give him a suspicious glare.

“I didn’t do anything, I got your mail too,” he holds up your mail to your face and you raise your eyebrows in surprise.

“Oh,” you quickly take your mail from Haechan, “well thanks for getting my mail...Hyuck.” A smug smile paints your lips as you use his legal name again.

Haechan makes a disgruntled expression and sighs, “Why are you calling me that?”

“Because it’s cute and it’s, oh I don’t know...your actual name? Don’t worry, though, I’ll keep calling you Haechan,” You reassure him. Haechan gives you a suspicious glare and crosses his arms. He most definitely wasn’t expecting for you to be good at playing his game, which he thought that you didn’t know you were a part of.

“Can I just have my mail now?” He huffs, deciding to take a loss for this round.

“So impatient, geez,” you pick the stack of Haechan’s mail off your foyer table and hand it to him. Haechan takes his mail from you and is about to bid you adieu before he suddenly changes his mind on losing this round.

“Personally,” he begins, catching your attention from your mail, “I think you should use that Savage Fenty promo code. I’d love to see what you get.”

Your heart nearly stops in your chest as you look up in horror at Haechan’s shit-eating grin, knowing full well that he knocked you off your axis. You don’t even have a comeback, you just watch in silence as Haechan sends you a wink and leaves you standing in your doorway. He shouts a quick thank you before he enters his own apartment, shutting the door behind him.

“I can’t believe--” You hiss as you slam your door shut, your face incredibly hot from Haechan’s simple, yet flirty, remark. You knew he had to have skimmed through your mail, or he wouldn’t have shown up at your door to give it back. What you didn’t anticipate was that he’d use your mail against you.

“Were you just flirting with our neighbor?” You hear your roommate, Gaeun, behind you. You whip around to face her and scowl.

“No. He was flirting with me,” you inform her.

“You think he’s cute don’t you?”

“I do not!”

“Oh please, you’d be stupid to not think he’s cute. I cannot believe just a week ago you were so disinterested in our new neighbors and now you’re literally buddy-buddy with them, Haechan in particular,” she wiggles her eyebrows at you and you roll your eyes.

“Whatever, you’re annoying,” you scoff.

“You totally like him, huh?”

“Shut up no I don’t!”

“Alright, alright, fine. I have a hard time believing it, but okay,” Gaeun shrugs.

A comfortable silence fills the space between you and Gaeun before she pipes up again.

“I’m just saying if you end up sleeping with him, I won’t be surprised.”

“GAEUN!”

↣

A couple of days later, Haechan reminds you of his presence again.

You were doing homework in your living room when a frantic knocking on your front door unceremoniously interrupts you. You save your work and close your laptop before padding over to the door to see who is so rudely interrupting you from your studies.

Lo and behold, as you gaze through your peephole, you find Haechan standing on the other side. You sigh and reluctantly open the door, giving the boy an unamused glare.

“Thank God you’re home, I need your help,” Haechan exhales in relief. You raise your eyebrows at his distressed tone, unsure if something was wrong.

“Why, did something happen? Are you okay?” You ask him.

“Aw...you’re worried about me, how cute,” Haechan smiles at you, touched by your concern. You groan in annoyance and frown at him.

“No, I’m fine. Our kitchen, however is not; our sink is not draining properly and shit is coming up from the drain. I was wondering if you could give me the landlord’s email or number so we can call him to come fix it,” Haechan reveals. You furrow your brows and shake your head at him, thus confusing him.

“First of all, don’t call the landlord, he doesn’t know anything. Second of all, your sink is clogged, I’ll come fix it for you,” you tell him.

“What do you mean the landlord doesn’t know anything?” Haechan asks, put off by your comment.

“When I first moved in, our toilet had problems. So of course, I called the landlord to come fix it and he literally said he didn’t know what to do. Naturally, from that point, I learned how to fix everything since the landlord is useless,” you recount your story to Haechan. It’s at this point that Haechan starts second guessing his and his roommates’ decision to move into this apartment building.

“Are you sure--”

Don’t worry, I know what I’m doing, just give me a second to get my tools.” You close the door and return promptly, holding a simple toolbox with enthusiasm. Haechan gives you a strange look, but decides to see this through. If it’s a chance to spend time with you, he’s taking it.

“Alright, let’s go fix your kitchen sink!” you grin and close your door behind you as you determinedly march across the hall to Haechan’s place.

When you arrive, you quickly figure out what’s wrong and get to work. You open the cabinet doors that lead to the pipes under the counter and begin going through your toolbox to get the appropriate tools to fix the sink.

“Do you want to see how to fix this so next time you can do it yourself?” you suggest. Haechan blinks down at you as he thinks about his answer. On the one hand, he wants to stand and supervise you from a distance (an excuse to basically ogle your bare legs because of the denim shorts you were wearing), but on the other hand, he can be closer to you if he joins you under the sink.

“Hyuck?” Your use of his nickname snaps him out of his thoughts.

“Yeah I’ll watch you work on my pipes,” Haechan says without thinking. You deadpan at him, his unintended euphemism not going over your head.

“Really?” you raise a brow at him.

“What?”

“‘Work on your pipes?’ Do you think I’m stupid?” you scoff. It takes Haechan a second to realize what you mean before his jaw is dropping. The initial shock fades into cheekiness as he leans against the counter with a smirk.

“That’s not what I meant, but I wouldn’t mind if you wanted to work on that pipe,” he winks at you and you roll your eyes.

“I’m taking back my offer to teach you how to fix your sink,” you say before ducking your upper body under the sink. Haechan pushes himself from the counter and ducks under the sink with you, despite you rescinding your offer.

“No takesies backsies,” he settles in next to you. It’s slightly cramped, but you try to focus on anything other than his close proximity to you.

“Fine, just don’t say dumb shit like that again,” you say quietly while you begin the process of fixing Haechan’s sink.

“No promises,” Haechan grins and you laugh softly at his antics.

You show Haechan what’s wrong with his sink and how to repair it. He pays close attention to your instructions, finding them to be fairly simple. For the last half of the process, you come out from under the sink and show him the last few steps of unclogging the sink. When you believe you’ve restored the sink to its former glory, you test the garbage disposal and run the water, making sure everything is drained. Much to Haechan’s surprise, you effectively fixed his sink.

“Damn...thank you. It works perfectly now,” He says in relief.

“Anytime. I also just want to point out that the previous tenant had a LOT of cats, so that’s probably why all that hair was in your pipes. I don’t know why she would put it down the sink though, that’s gross,” you scrunch your nose in disgust and Haechan chuckles.

“Yeah well we don’t have any cats, so it won’t happen again,” He tells you with a small smile. You return the smile and quickly lean down to recover your tools so you can make a swift exit back to your apartment. Haechan can’t quite explain why he felt so attracted to you while you unclogged his sink and explained how to do so. All he knew was that it was quite an experience for him to watch you become a plumber in his presence.

“So were you paying attention to the plumbing lesson? Because I’m not about to purposely clog another sink to teach you again,” you ask as he walks you back to your apartment.

“I was too busy getting distracted by your beauty and missed like a good chunk of the lesson, to be honest,” he joked. You stare up at him, shocked by his audacity, but all he does is give you a cocky smile in return.

“You--you’re--fuck you,” you say as you quickly enter your apartment and shut the door in Haechan’s face, not wanting him to see you in your flustered state. He blinks at your door, bewildered at your reaction, but soon realizes it wasn’t negative in the slightest.

Haechan walks back to his apartment with pride and a puffed out chest.

↣

You’re thoroughly convinced that the universe wants to prove your roommates right and you wrong. This becomes apparent to you once again at the end of a shower, you turning your shower head off and reaching for your towel.

At first, you don’t hear it, but after turning off your speaker and wrapping your towel around your body, you step outside the bathroom and hear the blaring noise: the fire alarm.

“Fuck...nooooooo,” you whisper as you hang your head in defeat. You debate quickly going to your room and throwing on clothes, but you remember the fire drill rules of the building and reluctantly grab your keys, phone and slippers. You dash down a few flights of stairs to the lobby and exit promptly, heading over to the building meetup point where the other residents are, all while holding your towel close to your body.

When you arrive, you try to hide yourself from passersby by blending in with the other building residents. You’re in the clear, heaving out a sigh of relief...that is until you hear the devil’s voice from your right side.

“Well don’t you look pretty standing there in nothing but a bath towel. Mind if I sneak a peek?” Haechan croons as he saunters over to you with a cheeky smirk. You turn your head towards Haechan, greeting him with a displeased expression, only for him to send you a wink.

“Hi, Donghyuck,” you huff, and cross your arms, effectively keeping your towel wrapped around your body.

Haechan places his hand on his heart in fake hurt, “When you say my name like that, it hurts.”

“Oh really? How would you like me to say it then?” you roll your eyes. Haechan moves to stand behind you and leans down so his lips brush the shell of your ear and in the most nonchalant tone, he whispers:

“Loudly and with pleasure, baby.”

You can’t control the shivers that are sent down your spine at the pet name and Haechan looks down at you with pride at his work. You scowl at the fact that your body reacted to his teasing, but even more so that you don’t hate it as much as you’re letting on. You refuse to turn around because you know that you wouldn’t be able to hold yourself back from either smiling at him or smacking him.

“Cat got your tongue, honey? Maybe you can put it to good use. Hm?” he pushes further and you can’t control yourself from whipping around and whacking his arm. The smile you’re so clearly fighting, though, tells him you’re not really mad at him.

“Shut up, you fucking dweeb, me being in a towel is not an invitation for you to hit on me nor is it a ploy to get you into bed,” you hiss at him and all he does is bite his lower lip softly and stick his hands in his front pockets.

“You’re the one who said not to give you a reason to remain strangers, and I always go the extra mile for people I consider…‘friends’,” he uses your past words against you. You gape in surprise at how cunning Haechan is and you wish you could slap the smug smile right off his face. You’re more mad at yourself for how his flirting is actually working and eliciting a reaction from you, especially a reaction from under your towel and between your legs. You can’t prove your roommates right, especially because you know they’d give you shit if they found out you actually did like Haechan.

“You’re insufferable,” you whisper just as the landlord announces that you’re allowed to come back into the building. You quickly stalk off toward the building, leaving Haechan alone to watch your retreating figure in admiration.

It’s only a matter of time before your resolve breaks...and he’s going to be there when it happens.

↣

You don’t see Haechan for another couple of days, which makes you a little more sad than you’d like to admit. You even go so far as to ask Renjun where Haechan was, mildly worried that Haechan was sick...or even lost interest in you. You swear Renjun to secrecy though, knowing that if Haechan finds out you asked about him, you’d never hear the end of it.

When you finally do see him, it’s on the elevator, on your way home from school. It’s silent as the elevator doors close the two of you into the space. After a few beats, haechan finally speaks.

“I hear you asked about me,” he says, fighting off a smirk. You sigh and make a mental note to kill Renjun the next time you see him.

“Yeah I hadn’t been annoyed in a few days so I just wanted to see why it was so quiet,” you roll your eyes and look over at Haechan to find that he’s already looking at you.

“Sure, whatever helps you sleep at night,” he shrugs nonchalantly and goes back to waiting for the elevator to arrive at your floor.

“So…?”

“So what?”

“Where were you?”

Haechan gives you a surprised look, but answers anyway, “I was studying for a midterm, snoopy. I have to keep my grades up you know.”

“Oh...well...I hope you pass,” you tell him, and a warm smile appears on his lips.

“I did. With flying colors. Thanks though,” he says back and before you can respond, the elevator dings and the doors open. Haechan files out first and you follow suit, reluctant to go back to your own apartment for some reason. No one is there, you know that for a fact. Before you take out your keys, you glance back at Haechan, who is standing motionless at his door, his back facing you.

“Haechan,” you call out, your lips moving before your brain can formulate thoughts. He turns back to you, wide-eyed and curious about why you said his name.

“Yeah?” He asks as he starts to inch closer to your end of the corridor.

“I…” you begin, but the rest of the words don’t come out. As Haechan gets closer, he can see your face more clearly, and the look in your eyes tells him everything he needs to know. Being ever so impatient, he doesn’t wait for you to finish your sentence and backs you up against your door, his lips (finally) feverishly connecting with yours.

Your eyes shut immediately as Haechan takes control and kisses you with hunger and desire. He places one hand on your waist and one hand caresses your cheek, not intending to let you go anywhere. He swipes his tongue on your lower lip and you allow him access almost immediately. You don’t know why you’re mildly surprised that Haechan is a phenomenal kisser, but that thought and any other lingering ones fade as his hands travel to your hips and grip them rather harshly. You gasp softly against his lips as he increases the pressure on your hips, and he takes the opportunity to begin kissing your neck, creating marks where his lips touch.

While Haechan concentrates on your neck, you quickly try to search your bag with only your sense of touch to find your keys to let the two of you in.

Haechan grabs them from you, breaking away from you for a split second to unlock and open the door. Once that is accomplished, he places his lips back on yours and ushers you into your apartment. His kissing gets more insistent and rough as he shuts the door behind him.

Articles of clothing trail behind the two of you as you advance to your room. By the time you arrive, the two of you are fighting for dominance through your making out. It gets so intense that you have to break away for air. The two of you stand chest to chest, half-naked and panting.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he asks breathlessly. His hands rest on your hips and give them a light squeeze just for kicks. Your breath hitches in your throat and Haechan notices and smirks.

“I’m just...” you begin but Hyuck squeezes your hips again and you let out a small whimper.

“What was that? I didn’t hear you,” he teases you.

“Shut up,” you pry his hands off your hips and push him back to your bed before straddling his thighs. “You’re not the only one who likes to be in charge, Hyuck.”

Haechan smirks from below you and hooks his fingers into the hem of your panties, pulling them down slowly.

“Oh sweetheart,” he pauses when he has taken your panties completely off, “don’t you know I can still have control from under you?”

“Huh?” you ask, but Haechan’s response is one of action. He slips his boxers down his legs, situates his cock in line with your entrance and pulls you down on him until he’s buried to the hilt. You both let out harmonious moans simultaneously, the stretch of his cock oh-so-satisfying and the wet warmth of your pussy giving him goosebumps. While you were mildly disgruntled you didn’t get to see his cock first, you felt like it was unnecessary at this point considering you could feel his size from inside your pussy.

“Fuck you‘re so wet, I knew you wanted to fuck me,” he hisses.

“How the hell...are you…?” You begin.

“This big? Why, don’t think you can handle it?” Haechan smugly asks.

“Just...fucking move, Hyuck,” you grunt, “or I will.”

“Baby’s so desperate for my cock she won’t wait for me to fuck her? What, you’re gonna fuck yourself on my cock?” Haechan teases you, but you take it as a challenge and promptly begin riding him.

“You...asked for it,” you smirk at him.

“Fuck...you feel so good,” Haechan praises you and you beam at him. You lean down and begin pressing open mouthed kisses along his neck, kisses which soon turn into hickeys. Haechan has to admit that it feels good to be treated like this. Like a king.

“Who’s in charge now, brat?” You whisper in his ear and Haechan’s gaze darkens. He brings his hands back to your hips and grips them so you stop in place.

“I am,” he responds before roughly thrusting up into you, “it’s my game, I always win.”

Haechan pistons his hips against yours and moan after moan spills from your lips. Every yelp of his name, mixed in with swears and incomprehensible sounds, pushes Haechan to go harder.

“Shit, Hyuck, I’m...I’m so close,” you mewl and grip his shoulders to steady yourself. Under normal circumstances, Haechan would edge you to no end, but he’s been waiting for this since the moment you told him that you didn’t want to be strangers. He was going to be self-indulgent just this once.

Haechan’s thrusting gets sloppier as you both get close to your highs. Finally you come undone around his cock, your walls hugging him so tight, it makes it harder for him to keep going. Haechan takes an immeasurable amount of self control to not cum inside of you (especially since he got ahead of himself and forgot to slip on a condom). After a couple more thrusts, he pulls you off of him and cums across his own stomach, chest heaving as he comes down from his high. You take a dollop of his cum on your finger and suck it off, making eye contact with him just to taunt him further.

“Get on my face,” he commands.

“What?”

“Get on, sit on, I don't care just get up here,” he grabs your thighs. At your lack of action, he pulls you up so your core is hovering above his lips.

“Hyuck, I don’t think I can take—Oh my fuck,” your plea is cut short by Haechan’s lips wrapping around your clit and sucking harshly on it.

Haechan is not done proving who is in charge—and that he’s perfectly capable of fucking you from beneath you—and decides to have a feast to treat himself.

His tongue expertly navigates your pussy, switching between tongue fucking your entrance and stimulating your clit. All you can hear are lewd slurping sounds and your cries of pleasure. Haechan hums into your clit and the vibrations send electricity throughout your body.

“Hyuck...Hyuck do that again please,” you beg him while lightly tugging his hair. Haechan surprisingly complies, but instead of simply humming, he lightly growls into your pussy, the sensation pushing you closer to the edge. It isn’t until Haechan gives your clit one harsh suck that you’re coming onto his face. He quickly slurps up your release before working on your pussy again.

He puts you through two more orgasms before he’s pushing you off of his face and onto your bed. He crosses his arms behind his head in satisfaction before he glances over at you. Your legs are still trembling and your eyes are closed in an attempt to regain your composure and breath.

“I’ll let you catch your breath before the next round,” he tells you and you open your eyes to give him a playful glare.

“Who said we were going multiple rounds?”

“Fine, I’ll go then.”

“No, wait!”

“Yeah that’s what I thought.”

↣

“Okay just be really quiet, I’m sure they’re home now and I cannot have them seeing you here.”

“I can’t believe you’re sneaking me out of your apartment, this is not high school, why can’t I just walk out of here?”

“Because then my roommates will be right and I don’t want them to clown me for giving into you.”

“You say that like sleeping with me was a bad thing,” Haechan raises an eyebrow as you escort him quietly to your front door.

“It wasn’t, but when you guys first moved in, I may have made a big deal of being uninterested in you and they like to prove me wrong. Just work with me here,” you explain.

“Oh how the tables turn. I’m sure you wouldn’t want them to know how eager you were for my—” Haechan begins but you place your hand on his face to shush him.

“I wouldn’t, so shut up,” you tell him as you make it to your front door.

“It’s gonna be a little harder for you to sneak me out when we do this again, y’know,” Haechan tells you while you open the door.

“Again? Why do you say that with so much certainty?” You ask him with a mischievous smile.

“Because I know it’s gonna happen again, please,” he scoffs and you softly laugh. Haechan smiles at the sound of your laugh and hopes that the next time he does come back, he gets to know you a little more before you sleep with each other again.

“Sure, keep telling yourself that,” you cross your arms with a shy smile, “now go home.”

“Until next time,” Haechan leans down and places a chaste kiss to your cheek before turning toward his door across the hall. You close the door as Haechan goes into his apartment and lean against the door, processing what just happened.

Haechan was right: you were going to need to be more sneaky the next time he was over.

#nct 127 smut #nct 127 x reader #nct smut #nct x reader #haechan smut #donghyuck smut #haechan x reader #donghyuck x reader #lee haechan smut #haechan au

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spectracully · 4 years ago

Text

busy boy.

pairing : fratboy!jaemin x sororitygirl!reader warnings : drinking, mentions of drugs, a bit suggestive (but pls note that this isn’t smut), cursing, mentions of divorce genre : fluff, angst, college!au word count : 2.5k

summary : inspired by chloe x halle - busy boy. basically playing around with the local campus playboy, na jaemin for months is not the best thing, not the worst thing either.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ You face yourself in the bathroom mirror, hands gripping the white sink. You saw him, right there. Dancing in the middle of the frat house’s living room with a girl in his arms. Na Jaemin, the boy you’ve been talking with for 3 months now, who recently just texted you “are you up?” on 9.15, and when you replied to him that you’re actually at his frat house, attending the party that Jaehyun hosts, he just texted you back one hour later by saying he’s with his family.

You’re malfunctioning right now, still dazed, don’t know whether it's because of the alcohol, the weed Lucas gave you, or it’s just you- believing his cheap lies. Cause when you think about it, who the fuck leaves the campus, go home and spend time with family in finals month? Yeah, you’re the one who’s dumb here, actually believing his lies. But who blames you for believing in the first place, anyway? You and your sorority sisters have arrived here since 8.30 anyway, an hour and half is long enough to get you lightheaded from the shots you take.

You glanced at your watch, it’s only 11.28 pm. About an hour since you read his text, and practically 34 minutes after you literally saw him. Facepalming yourself, you close the toilet seat and sit above it. It’s not even right in the middle of the night, but it has been a wild ride for you. It’s kinda frustrating when you are the one who actually started this game, you knew Jaemin is hell of a playboy on campus, yet you decided to get some taste of it just because he’s being a real gentleman with sweet words to you. Yeri was actually furious when she saw Jaemin dropped you off at the sorority house a few weeks ago, she warned you that you should dump him before you’re too attached, but you won’t listen. There it is, the fruit of not listening to Yeri’s 40 minutes lecture of how you should avoid men like Jaemin, Lucas, Yuta, Ten, Johnny and Jaehyun in your love life, big disappointment.

Finally catching your breath, you decided that it is time you get back outside, and actually do something about it, rather than being all somber and gloomy. Jaehyun threw a goddamn frat party in the middle of finals month to relax the fellow students’ mind, not for you to dwell on your sadness, in the bathroom. It’s embarrassing. And a disgrace for your sorority.

You head out, spotting Lucas who’s leaning by the counter with Hendery and Jungwoo. They’re probably hitting more blunt and having some existential crisis over a potato chip wrapping. You continue to scan across the house, only to catch a sight of Joy busy making out with Sungjae on the couch. Or Yeri, who’s currently twerking to Doja Cat’s song, totally shitfaced. You sighed, your friends are either high, shitfaced, or sucking a boy’s face out. You really wanna continue your search for your other sisters, but then suddenly a light brown haired boy appears in front of you.

“Hey, y/n, you alright? You look like you’ve been through 4 divorces.” he asks as he stares at you, raising his eyebrows.

“Yeah, I just went through a fucking divorce. With your homeboy.” you answer him absentmindedly, pointing to the black haired boy who is wearing a black-white patterned wool sweater and a red shirt underneath, along with his slate-grey suit pants and a silver necklace. The boy in the topic is currently talking with the girl you saw earlier, being all smiley and shit.

Mark just laughs lightly as he sips his beer, “Oh him? Yeah he’s quite a busy boy. Probably went through countless divorces with half of the campus.” you chuckle at him, he knows what you’re talking about. All these girls never even had a proper official relationship with Jaemin, including you, but always ended up getting a nasty ass divorce without any reason. You know that, but you did not expect that you’d hang on up until now.

“You wanna do something about it?” Mark asks, nudging your elbow. He’s in a helpful mood now, probably because he is still not completely shitfaced or high. You glance at him, giving him a questioned look.

“Well.. I mean I would do it, but what? Kissing you in front of him so that he’ll get jealous? No, Mark. You know that his head is made out of a fucking rock, right?” You answer him, seizing his beer and take a big ass gulp.

“Hey, that’s my beer- What? Kiss you? Gross, dude. If you are looking for that guy, might as well run to Lucas or Jungwoo.” he lifts his eyebrows, slightly engrossed. You laugh at him, he’s a funny guy when he reacts to your silly jokes.

“Do I look like I wanna give you a kiss, Mark? No offense, but I don’t like crackly lipped boys.” you tease him, now he’s pouting and starts touching his lips, “Is it too crackly though? You have a lipbalm or something?” he asks

You continue to laugh while fishing the watermelon lipbalm out from your black leather jacket and pass it to him. He muttered a small thanks. You set the beer aside to the table then face him once more.

“Anyways, what should I do?” you eye him, who is now done applying the lipbalm.

“Drop your drink to the girl or something? Make sure he notices you dude.” he suggests, shrugging his shoulder.

“You’re dumb, Mark. It’ll cause a fucking catfight in the middle of party.” you deadpanned.

“Oh yeah, you have a point.” he swept his hair to the side, glancing at the whole party situation. That’s when you get the idea. Scratch kissing other boys in front of him, it’s probably the right time to call him the fuck out, you already have alcohol running in your system anyways, might as well go all out tonight, since everybody else also seems like already intoxicated by the liquors.

You lightly brush your hair, stretching your neck and praying to god that he’ll forgive you for what you are about to do. “Toodles, Mark. I’ll think a way when I get drunk, soon enough.” you wave him a goodbye, heading to the dining table to get a bottle of vodka, it’s half empty though, considering you’re being pessimistic tonight.

You chug the bottle with no mercy, wishing it’ll bring you straight to intoxication. You start to feel it kicking in, when you finish the last drop of the vodka. Banging the bottle to the nearby table, you make your way to Jaemin, who is currently sitting on the staircase by himself, checking his phone.

“Ooh, busy boy, aren’t you?” you ask him, not giving anymore fucks. He looks up to you, who is currently squinting at him, face reddening from the alcohol heat. He stares at you, biting his lip.

“Y/n. You’re drunk.” he says lightly as he stands up, tucking strands of your hair to the back of your ear. You squirm from his action. As much as you want to punch him in the face for playing with your emotions, you really miss his touch.

“I am not! Jaemiiiiin, why did you lie to meeeee?” you whine loudly to him on purpose, placing his hand on your face, pouting. Your plan worked, a few people turned their heads to you and Jaemin. He just sighs and snorts, smelling the strong liquor scent that slipped out of your lips. You can feel Yeri is probably trying to kill you with her glare, you know how much she hates Jaemin.

“Listen, baby, what are you trying to pull?” Jaemin whispers close to your ear. You’re not that sure whether it’s because of the loud music blasting in the whole house, or it’s just Jaemin’s voice. Whatever it is, your ears are tingling, sending funny sensations down to your spine.

Jaemin is pissed, you know it damn well from his tone, stern and strong. Oh yes, you love it so much, pissing him off, probably you’ll start humiliating him more and more in his own frat home, because that’s what he deserves for playing with you, and some other random girls.

“Don’t baby me, Jaemin! You said you were with your family, and then I saw you with some random girl!” you shout. At this point, you don’t really care about what others think of you, because they can clearly see you’re being drunk and probably will shrug it off. If that’s what it takes to call Jaemin out in a huge crowd, then you’ll take it. You have nothing to lose, anyway, they’ll agree with you, they all know Jaemin is a big flirt.

And there it is, the anger and humiliation fills Jaemin up. He pulls your wrists, practically dragging you upstairs. You liked it, don’t know why, it’s just fun, making him mad when it’s actually you, who should’ve been mad in the first place. He rushes you to get into his shared bedroom with Jeno and Renjun. Amused, you quickly sit on his bed, acting like you’re dumb.

He shuts the door behind him, crossing his arms. “What’s this all about, baby?”

You snort, “I think you know, Jaemin. You’ve been messing around me for 2 months- or what, I actually lost count because you’re such a busy boy.”

He widen his eyes, “I don’t-”

“Oh shut up, are you surprised that I actually last longer than all your pretty girls?” you stand up, you can’t contain the anger anymore.

“Listen, baby, I-”

“I said, don’t baby me when you do that to probably other 7 girls!” you shout, glaring at him, who is currently freezing on his space.

He sighs and sweeps his hair in frustration, licking his lips. “Will you listen to me first, at least?”

You roll your eyes, crossing your arms while glancing at his study desk. Nicely decorated, and you can see his family photograph neatly placed in a small frame. You noticed that he’s quite a reader too, judging from his book collection compared to Jeno and Renjun.

“First, I gotta admit, you last longer than other girls, yes. And second, it’s because I want to keep you-” he starts, taking a seat next to you,

You scoffed, “Keep me? You think I’m some kind of puppy that follows you around, Jaemin? You’re being such a dick right now! Do you think that I’m just some kind of wh-”

“Can you not interrupt me, baby? I’m talking.” he growls, placing his hand to your thigh. You can feel your cheeks heat up from his actions. Jaemin, being Jaemin, can sense that you’re actually flustered, he lightly squeeze your thigh, just to see your cheeks redden even more. God, he’s such a flirt.

“But first, I got to be honest with you, I was torn between ghosting you or continuing. That explains the lie a lot.” he clears his throat, looking into your eyes. You’re not giving him a reaction (except the fact that you’re already as red as a fucking cooked lobster from his hand placement), just like he said, don’t interrupt him.

“I mean- after all those messing around, I grow tired of it. I-I don’t even want to flirt anymore, I want to be comforted.. Those girls, those people.. They know I’m not serious and they do the same, y/n. We just kinda.. Have a good time and dipped.”

You’re still sitting in silence, eyes fixed on Jaemin, who now looks flustered. This is not Jaemin at all, he’s usually cocky, cheeky, and flirty, just exactly like a few seconds ago. He usually throws wink here and there, but now he actually looks… vulnerable.

“I was surprised you’re still holding on for like 3 months.. Those girls won’t even last for 2 days, y/n. It’ll end up me ghosting them or vice versa, no one ever had a second date with me. But you, you can’t seem to give up when I’m not replying, don’t you?” he chuckles as he looks at you softly,

You giggle at him a little, “Yes. I’m THAT dumb, Jaemin.” you admit to him. In reality, you know it, you know when he’s not replying, he’s probably with some other girls. But you are being deadass, you just don’t know what possessed you, you just keep on texting him like it’s nothing.

He rubs the back of his neck, “I was actually scared that you’ll dump me when I develop actual feelings to you.. Or worse, what if I break your heart after we have something? I mean, if I have to, I’d break it now, so the pain is not too harsh. That’s why I keep on lying to you, and maybe, not replying to your messages.”

At first, you feel bad from hearing him speak truthfully. But after he opened his mouth again, you can feel the anger slowly rising again through your veins. He is very very selfish and self-centered. Is this how he show his true color? A man with a big ego? That’s it?

You tilted your head, “Fuck you. Really. Then why did you start the conversation, Jaemin? You could’ve told me how you felt and we’re set. But I can see-”

He shakes his head, interrupting your words, “I-I told you, y/n. I’m very torn between wanting to pursue you, or letting you go. That’s why I often not replying right after I texted you. I’m sorry, I really do.”

You’re angry. You’re sad. But you’re confused that you’re a little happy too, hearing him speak from the bottom of his heart. But that’s very selfish of him, doing those acts to you. He could’ve told you what he actually feels way earlier than this, so you can make sure what are you two doing, instead of playing pointless games of ghosting and chasing around again.

“I see. You’re so fucking selfish, Jaemin. We talked for months and this is all I got? Am I not worth of your explanation from the start? I know you wouldn’t do anything if I hadn’t drag your ass in the middle of the fucking party!” you stand up, you can no longer hide your disappointment to him, tears start rolling down your face.

His heart breaks a little, watching bundle of tears fall from your eyes. He is the heartbreaker, but those girls were never crying when he ghosted them after they had fun, those girls would catch another boys and forget about Jaemin right away. This is Jaemin’s first ever experience, seeing a girl crying because of what he did.

He knows that he’s an asshole for playing fire, but now he feels like he is THE asshole. He broke your heart right on, and it breaks his heart right back.

You sigh deeply, trying to catch a breath after a few sobs. “Don’t fucking find me. Have fun with your girls.” you look at his eyes with full of anger and hate. With heavy steps, you walk to the door, thinking about things you’re about to do once you get downstairs, probably joining Lucas and the gang, stoning yourself out, so you don’t have to think about Jaemin and his stupid beautiful face.

Just when you try to reach the door knob, you can feel Jaemin is grabbing onto your hand.

“Y/n, I am truly sorry.. After what you did earlier, I realized that I’m a big fucking loser. I can’t even admit my feelings. When you call me out earlier, I just wanna dissolve into thin air. I can’t handle the shame of being such a dick, I should’ve told you what I feel instead of making uncertain decisions.”

You turn to him, seeing his eyes glimmering, probably because of the tears pooling up. You’re hurt, you want to push him away as far as possible, you want to see him suffer. Hell, you just want him to extinct. But seeing him like this, you can’t lie to your own feelings, you like him. You really do. But just like your sorority sisters taught you, yourself comes first, not those stupid silly boys who just fuck around.

“Goodbye, Jaemin.” you say to him, holding back more tears coming in.

Just when you’re getting ready to reach the doorknob for the second time, he pulls you into his arms. You want to let go of him, but he’s strong, and you- actually wanting this for so long. You hate him, but you have feelings for him. You can’t help but stay on his embrace.

And then... There it is, the feels. It comes back, the way you hide yourself from Yeri whenever you pick up his calls, or maybe the late night drive to nearby McDonalds, or maybe flirting through the notes you pass during class, or maybe the first kiss you shared with him in front of your sorority house, and ended up being scolded by Yeri and Joy.

You realized that it was a stupid crush with the stupid playboy Na Jaemin, but you enjoyed your time with him. You remembered how he likes to send you goodnight selfies, or maybe the way he pouts a lot when driving. Those 3 months of on-and-off-unofficial-relationships with him, is actually making you feel things.

“Y/n, I know I don’t deserve you, but really.. This time, I mean it. I promise, I won’t mess around. Please, I know I’ve been such a dick, but if you just give me one more chance, y/n.. But I completely understand, if you hate me, and you probably want to slam me to death, and I will allow you-”

You look up to him and grabbed his face, crashing his lips into yours. He tastes like cherry soda, with a hint of cigarettes. He seems like enjoying the kiss, he cupped your cheeks as he deepened the kiss. You can feel his hands travel around your body, only to land in your hips.

You want to trust him this time. He promised you. He meant it. He will take care of you. And you trust him, this time.

“Alright, busy boy. I do want to slam you, though... But remember, just because you’re so damn fine, I won’t even think twice to dump your ass if you act up.” you warn him.

The tears you shed just bloomed into giggles and smiles. The inconsistency between the 3 months before finally disappeared, and reborn again into a new promise.

He nods. “Believe me baby, you’re the one who wants to be slammed right now.” he teases you, glancing to his bed. You can feel your cheeks reddening again, you lightly hit him, and he laughs. He’s a cheeky boy.

“Busy boy, huh?” he giggles, “Your busy boy.”

The anger within you is released now. No more chasing around like a fool, no more getting late replies from Jaemin, no more nights of hoping that he’d reply, because he’s only busy for you now.

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catboyshinsou · 4 years ago

Text

nightmares

pairing: shinsou x gn!reader

warnings: graphic descriptions of a nightmare, blood, death, panic attacks ?, kitty nickname, pro hero shinsou (sfw)

summary: you just moved in with shinsou but somehow nightmares have been plaguing you. one night you have the worst one yet

a/n: ty for 200 followers!! <33

Shinsou didn't sleep much. There was too much on his brain for him to waste precious time on sleep, there was too much to do, too much to think about. He knew it wasn't the healthiest thing to do but it's not like he deprived himself of sleep, his body just didn't let him and there wasn't much he could do about it. As an active Pro Hero there were just some sacrifices to be made for the job and if sleep loss was one of them then so be it.

You, on the other hand, managed to maintain a quite healthy sleeping schedule next to him. At least you tried to get continuous six hours of sleep every night, even if that still wasn't nearly enough for an average human being. But what could you do, there was a lot to do and not enough time to do it.

For some reason, Shinsou worried about you not sleeping enough. You chuckled when he brought it up to you at breakfast when you moved in with him.

“I don't think you're one to speak, Hitoshi.”

“Are you saying me not sleeping is something to not be worried about?”

You rolled your eyes and drank your tea. “I get enough sleep, don't worry about it okay?”

The dark circles under your eyes rivaled his, earning a frown from your boyfriend. He didn't like seeing you tired. He never has. Even though you were always tired, according to you, he could tell when your sleep quality was declining.

“Have you been having nightmares again?”

His purple eyes met yours as he swirled the coffee in his mug. Rain hit against the window and you heard the trees rustling in the wind.

Waking up in cold sweat, panting and almost crying before rushing to the bathroom to shock your system with cold water. It was a picture and feeling you knew too well. Nightmares and terrors did indeed haunt you like a little girl haunted a house. You've tried everything to ease them; medication, meditation, yoga, asmr, everything and still you had one at least once a week.

With the move into Shinsou’s apartment (because he was almost always working and wanted to see you more and his place was closer to your workplace anyway), it didn't really get better either even though his arms afterwards were always comforting. It felt more like symptomatic help not like you were finding a cause to make it stop though.

You took a deep breath. Was there a point in lying when he'd find out soon enough that you laid in bed almost scared to fall asleep when he was on night patrol because he wouldn't be there to calm you down if you did have one? Well, was it lying since you in theory didn’t currently have any nightmares?

“You know that no answer is an answer as well, kitty...” His low and soft voice crept up your neck as he put his arms around you. In the moments you were contemplating how much lying made sense, he'd finished his coffee and made his way to you for a lazy hug from behind.

He smelt nice, his slightly damp hair against your cheek as he rested his head on your shoulder. The purple tuffs tickled you as he got comfortable in the crook of your neck. You put his arms over his, on your tummy and took another breath.

“So you haven't been sleeping at all then?”

The only time you've been feeling comfortable and safe was when Hitoshi came home at 4 in the morning, slipped out his hero gear and got into bed with you. You, always pretending to be sleeping so he didn't worry, just waited for his whispered “goodnight kitty, i love you” as he put his arms around you for three or four more hours of sleep with you. Only then could you close your eyes and let yourself sink into your feared REM phase.

“You worry too much for me, 'Toshi…” With an exhausted sigh you leaned back, your head on his shoulder behind you. You traced circles on his forearm, feeling his goosebumps as you did.

“I'd be a crap hero if I cared for the general public but not for my love at home, wouldn't I?” He placed a kiss on your temple. “So?”

“I've been sleeping fine.”

“Y/n.” He stretched the last part of your name, his voice vibrating up your neck.

“You're free for the weekend right?”

Shinsou sighed at your attempt of changing subjects, not having enough energy to insist on you telling the truth. He hummed in response.

He had a two day break from hero work or at least from patrolling and going in. There was a ton of paperwork sitting on his desk for him, as well as 50 unread emails he had to get to. But he didn't complain. At least you were there to keep him company while you did your thing.

The two of you finished up breakfast and started into your day of free time which was actually just work in disguise.

Before you knew it, the day had passed and both of you laid in bed together, attempting to sleep. Well, you did. It was already well past midnight, everything around you quiet except for Shinsou who hummed a tune next to you and tapped on his keyboard.

He had his laptop on his lap, answering some more emails and scheduling their sending for 7am while making sure you knew he was there. You could feel his warmth under the blanket but the auditory reassurance helped.

You were on your tummy, facing away from you while hugging your pillow since your actual boyfriend wasn't up for cuddles right now. With closed eyes, you rolled over to face him.

“Hitoshi, go to sleep”, you said in a drowsy voice, half asleep yourself. “You can send the emails when you wake up…”

Shinsou just gave you a quick chuckle before kissing your head. “I'll be done in a minute, kitty. I just need a few more and then I’m all yours, I promise.”

His humming continued and he put his hand on your back, stroking it up and down until you were completely asleep. Your breaths got deeper and you moved around less, making your boyfriend smile.

It felt as if he had just gotten a toddler to sleep after watching a superhero movie, even if you had not been staying awake because you were restless but because you refused to go to bed if he wasn't in it. He had promised you that he would come to bed as soon as he could but both of you were stubborn. It was just a staring contest until Shinsou got up and carried his laptop to the bedroom with you pulling him at his hand.

Now, you laid next to him in peaceful manner, breathing, recharging.

"Toshi?”

You ran down the staircase, struggling with the heavy doors that separated each floor.

“Hitoshi?”

It never seemed to end, doors after doors after doors after doors. It was just doors going on. Heavy metal doors, painted white with cheap paint. It still smelled like paint in some of the staircases.

Your hands started slipping off the handles, sweat covering them like a thick layer of honey. You could hear a faint voice behind this even heavier door, needing your whole strength to open it up.

The clear sweat on your hands started staining the handle red. You pulled them back and stared at the blood covering your palms before looking back up and seeing Shinsou bloodied up in front of you.

He was panting, his face swollen and bruised and his hands tied behind his back. On his knees, he fell towards you with his capture weapon now a bright red instead of the usual dirty white.

“OH MY GOD, HITOSHI?”

You pushed him back to find the source of the flood, opening his hero suit and trying to untie his hands before he spat out blood all over you.

“You'll be fine okay? Everything is gonna be okay, you just need to stay awake and I'll find where you're bleeding from and it's gonna be fine, you can't leave me okay?”

A waterfall of words left you as you laid him on his back and examined his body. He just laughed and stared at the ceiling, his usually bright purple eyes now dull and almost grey.

You located his wound at his tummy right above the belly button, splurging out blood with his heavy breath. There was a faint whistle whenever he exhaled, you examined his chest and could feel a clearly broken rib.

Oh god, you weren't any type of medical care practitioner, what were you supposed to do?? Think, think, think…

“Kitty…” Shinsou put his cold hand on your tear stained cheeks.

“Shhh, don't talk okay??? I just need a second to figure things out, you'll be fine just- just stay awake okay??”

A hoarse chuckle left him. “Sorry for staining your white shirt… I know you always complain about how it never properly washes…”

He faded away, the cold of his hands on your cheeks leaving you last before you were met by a blinding light.

“Hi-hitoshi??? HITOSHI???”

You looked around. There was a field of red roses around you, the bloodstains gone from the scene of a few seconds ago. It smelt metallic.

There was a sticky feeling beneath your shoes. Something told you to not look down. Not avert your eyes from the endless field of roses in front of you. But you were stubborn and never learned out of your mistakes.

You were met with a puddle of blood, Shinsou’s dead body at your feet along with your close friends and family. They surrounded you, eyes open and skin drained of any blood. The roses dripped with their blood, dancing in the wind.

You tried screaming but the only thing that left you was silence, a dreadful high pitched beep in the distance. The tears fell like you did to your knees to touch your loved ones for the last time.

A deep breath forced you awake, eyes fluttering open as you checked your surroundings. You gripped your bedsheets, hoping to find Shinsou next to you but the space was empty and cold.

The tears started falling as you got on your feet and tumbled towards the bathroom.

It was only a dream right? Not a flashback or a future forecast, right? Your quirk didn't have anything to do with looking into the future or past, so it couldn't be, it couldn't be…

“Hi-hi-hitoshi??” With a weak voice, you called out as you doused the nape of your neck with cold water, your head in the sink in a position that was more than just uncomfortable.

Your mind was too foggy to remember who it was that advised you to “shock” your system with cold water but whoever it was saved your life more than once. The tears kept falling as you lost feeling in your neck from the overbearing cold water.

“Please just stop, I can't take it anymore…” You sobbed into the sink as you turned off the water.

Heavy footsteps came your way. You sank onto the floor and hugged your knees, feeling the salty tears dripping onto them.

Shinsou lowered down next to you. With more than concern on his face he cupped your face and forced you to look at him. You could only sniffle as he spoke, his words only grazing you. You barely heard him, only saw his mouth move and his head nod.

“I.. can’t... hear… you…” You sniffled between every word, struggling to get air properly. Your body didn't allow you to take a proper breath, only shallow breaths leaving your chest.

It wasn't like your ears suddenly stopped working. You could hear the dripping of the water in the sink and cat pawing at the bathroom window to be let in. But somehow your brain had a hard time processing what Shinsou was saying, somehow translating it to gibberish.

Shinsou watched you, looking at his face and trying your best to stop crying. His thumb caressed your cheek as he tried figuring out what to do. It's been a while since you had a snap out this bad. Last time he used his quirk to make you realise that the dream wasn't real while also calmly easing your body into relaxation. Though he tried keeping his quirk usage on you to a minimum to avoid any type of complications.

Instead he took your hand in his and pressed it as tight as he could without actually hurting you. Sudden pain was one of the easiest ways to snap your body out of panic, physically and mentally. It reminded the body to snap out of it while telling the person that they were indeed real.

“It's over kitty okay?” He kept his tone low and as calm as possible. Even if you couldn't hear him, his tranquility would help you relax as well or at least not stir you up more. “I'm here and you're here. It was only a dream, you're okay now.”

He pressed your hand to his heart. “You feel that? That's my heartbeat, I'm here with you. It was just a dream…”

You focused on your boyfriend and his warm hand around yours. Your breaths got deeper and deeper, Shinsou breathing with you until the tears stopped.

“Hey, see that wasn't so hard was it?” Shinsou smiled, a small sigh of relief leaving him.

Almost immediately, you flung your arms around him and just took him in. He was real. Not dead or a hallucination. He was here and had his arms around you while rubbing your back.

Shinsou had only left the bed for 5 minutes to finish up his emails and put away his laptop. You had been asleep for a while, he was sure that you wouldn't notice his absence so he just got up and finished up his work. Next thing he knew, there was water running in the bathroom and some stuff falling from the shelves.

“You were dying… dead…” You mumbled into his shoulder, eyes still wet. “I couldn't help you and-”

Tears soaked his shirt as you recalled the nightmare. Your tummy turned inside out when you thought back at the grotesque imagery.

“It's okay now. I'm not dead, right?”

“N-no…”

“Can we go back to bed or do you wanna stay awake a little longer?”

It was around 2am now. Even if neither of you had to call in for work in the morning, Hitoshi still wanted to get you to sleep as fast as possible so you could recover from that horrible nightmare.

“Are you gonna be in bed too?”

“I'm all yours…”

You nodded and got on your feet before wiping away the tears. Shinsou followed and patted your back as you washed your face. He liked keeping his hand around you just to put your mind at ease. Around your waist, in your shoulder, in yours… Anywhere just so you knew he was there.

Both of you laid together, you on his chest with his hands on your back. You heard his heartbeat and felt his chest rise and fall. Your arms were wrapped around him and gripped onto him tight.

“Sleep now okay? I'm not going anywhere…”

The drowsiness kicked back in and you closed your eyes, struggling to keep them that way whenever graphic scenes came up again.

“I'm scared…”

“That's okay… Nightmares are scary but they can't do you any harm… And even if they can, I'm here to protect you okay?” Almost like a whisper, he breathed the words into your ear and kissed your forehead. “I'll be here for you all night long until you wake up again…”

You took a quick breath and closed your eyes again. “Can you hum?”

“Of course…”

Maybe it was quirk related, maybe it was just you but Shinsou’s humming always had a relaxing effect on you. He had quite the singing voice actually, though he rarely ever used it outside of home. But any type of music that left him worked like a natural relaxer on you. Combined with his back rubs and temple kisses, your eyes stayed shut and you drifted back into sleep. This time without staircases, roses or blood.

#bnha shinso hitoshi #bnha x reader #bnha imagines #bnha writing #bnha fluff #shinsou x you #mha shinsou #shinsou hitoshi #shinsou x reader #shinsou x y/n #shinsou fluff #nightmare comfort

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dancingwiththeplanets · 4 years ago

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An Angel Amongst Demons - chapter two

Boba Fett x fem!reader

chapter 1 / masterlist

Summary: A few days after the incident in the throne room, Boba hovers around you like a shadow worried you’ll leave him. You try to reassure him through small, intimate moments with him that there’s no place you’d rather be.

A/N: Really trying to expand on the idea that a gorgeous palace lays hidden underground/ behind the throne room! Also, I think we can all start calling this Boba’s Palace now, jabba is gone. Sorry for the low quality edit it’s my first one haha

Warnings: dancing!boba, protective!boba, suggestive content, plain old day at the palace, soft!boba, not a lot of content tbh but cute moments and we get to know our OC Mandos Raul and Enzo, I didn’t plan this out, im sorry

Word Count: 4.5k+

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The ballroom, though practically useless in its existence and never actually having served its purpose, has recently become one of your favorite rooms in the palace. Initially, you didn’t know what to do with the space. It’s not like Boba seized at the idea of throwing a ball and inviting a group of strangers into the palace, providing anyone the opportunity to discover the secrets hidden behind the throne room. Let alone risk letting an adversary sneak their way in and stirring up trouble.

Nonetheless, you’ve taken it upon yourself to spruce the place up. It is, after all, one of the grander rooms in the castle, with paintings coating the ceiling and the walls bordered with columns.

It’s actually extremely beautiful, you’ve decided, wiping your forehead against your light-blue sleeve, frowning when it comes back brown from the dust that’s stuck to your face. It seemed like a sensible thing to wear this morning. A loose fitting blue blouse with flowy pants to match, secured in the middle by a slightly darker sash. Your pant legs were tucked into your boots so as not to get in the way. It was one of the more cozy and plain things you owned, though not poor in quality by any standards. The fabric was refined, flowy and soft against your skin. Quite honestly, even in your working clothes, you looked nicer than you felt you deserved to. But far be it for Boba to allow his princess to wander around in anything but the best.

The week you’d moved in was a busy one, filled with surprises and adjustments that were quite honestly overwhelming. You arrived at Boba’s palace with a literal sack over your shoulder, enough to stash your small wardrobe of two garments and a few trinkets of personal value. Tatooine was a simple place, you only owned what you absolutely needed. And you, being a young and simple waitress at the local cantina, could barely make enough to cover your cost of living. You were never awarded the luxury of having needless objects.

The first few days of your arrival, Boba had stuck to your side like glue, making sure you got around okay and had everything you needed. Initially, he’d even had a seperate room made up for you to stay in. It was absolutely beautiful, by far the lightest room in the entire palace, though lacking in a window. It was one of the biggest, not as impressive as his own chambers, but still spacious. He decorated the room with paintings and furniture and accented the space with hues of blue and gold. Unfortunately, the pretty room barely got any good use out of it.

Boba escorted you to your quarters on your first night, cradling your chin and kissing your forehead at the door, bidding you goodnight. He reminded you where you could find something to sleep in, having delighted himself in surprising you with an entirely new wardrobe.

You pulled on a satin, lavender slip, admiring the foreign material for a long while as it weighed so delicately on your form. You took your time readying yourself for bed before crawling in and feeling engulfed by pillows. Once you settled, left alone to your anxious thoughts and feelings, you suddenly felt overwhelmed by the exquisite room embracing you. A flutter of giddiness and exhilaration filled you, your mind and body enraptured by the day's events. You felt absolutely spoiled.

Feeling bold on an entirely unnatural level, you slipped away from the warm, velvety comforter and tiptoed to the door. With a rush of courage, your hand met the handle and you stepped out, bare feet cold against the tile floor. You peeked around before quickly darting down the hall, forever grateful that not a soul was around to see your practically naked form running by, before ascending the stairs that led to Boba’s door.

You lifted your hand, your knuckle knocking gently three times against the rough surface.

You heard Boba shifting on the other side of the door, tugging down on your nightgown that just barely cleared your thighs. The hinges of the door creaked as they turned, opening slowly to reveal a very smug looking Boba in just his underclothes.

He hummed, eyes tracing over your form with a shake of his head. “Wandering the halls looking like that.” He chided, gently grabbing you by the waist and pulling you through the door, “That’ll get you into trouble, little one.”

-----------------------------

You smile as you recall the memory. Suffice to say, you didn’t end up sleeping in your own quarters that night, or any night after that, for that matter. Though Boba’s honorable gesture in providing you with your own space was not lost on you.

Continuing on with your endeavors, you move to stand from your crouch on the ground, simultaneously trying to tighten the blue sash wrapped around your middle. You gasp as you run into a hard surface, exhaling in relief as Boba braces you in front of him.

Mumbling an apology, you watch as his helmeted face looks you up and down, steady hands holding you out from him.

“What?” You ask, a smile making its way to your cheeks.

“Your outfit, it...looks like something I wore as I boy.” He says adoringly, now fondling the blue sash at your hips.

You glance down again at your form, a matching blue blouse and trousers tucked into simple black boots. “I...look like you as a young boy?” You counter, earning a deep chuckle from your lover.

“Well I looked rather plain in it,” He says, “I don’t think I looked half as radiant as you do.”

“So you do like it?” You ask.

“Of course I like it,” He grins, “I bought it.”

You shake your head as you carry on with your tasks, allowing Boba to shadow your movements for a while before leaving you again to carry on with his own agenda.

You spend the next few hours actively scrubbing away at the room, feeling especially motivated to complete it, not like all the other half-finished rooms scattered about the palace, which is partly your fault. But the ballroom felt different, once you dusted away all the grime and filth and replaced the lighting in the ceilings to give the room more life, it really started to come together. Unfortunately, your previously clean clothes and skin were paying the price for the hard work being done, you definitely looked a little worse for wear. Wisps of hair beginning to tickle your cheeks from where they’d fallen loose from your braid.

Currently, you were taking extra care to polish a beautiful mosaic decorating the inside of an archway. Thousands of small, colorful shards lined neatly together to form the image of a bold Tatooine sunset. One of the few grand beauties your home planet was known for. A surprisingly lovely work of art left behind, albeit not properly cared for, by the previous inhabitants of the palace.

You admire the artwork for a while after polishing it to near perfection, letting your bum fall to the floor and legs splay out comfortably in front of you. Your wrists support your upper body, arms holding you up as you lean back onto them, head tilting lazily to one side.

You find yourself distracted from your glossed over gaze by Boba, who seems to have wandered his way in here for the third time today. Enzo tails him a few paces behind, but stops to stand guard idly by the door. You can’t imagine he or Raul feel as though they serve any real purpose wandering these empty halls, probably much preferring when they get to patrol the throne room or secure the perimeter.

Boba approaches you, pausing over your fatigued form and huffing out a laugh when you don’t move to stand, instead opting to gaze up at him with tired, doe eyes. He holds a hand out to you and you groan, placing your palm in his as he hoists you up.

“The room looks lovely.” He says, voice raspy through the modulator as he looks around.

The praise makes you smile. “Come see what I found,” You say, leading him by the hand. You open a large dresser to the right, stuffed full of old vinyls and a polished record player sitting proudly atop. You carefully choose a record, placing it beneath the needle and starting the track, allowing it to play soothingly in the background as you guide him around the rest of the room.

He follows you around, listening to you babble about the lovely art on the ceiling and how nice the light looks coming through the one, boxy window at the top. He watches the childlike sparkle and admiration in your eyes as you point out different things you’ve noticed, the excitement trickling out in your tone.

His mind contemplates how different this life is from the one you used to have. You went from a one room, compact home, just barely big enough for your small bed, to a palace filled with grand staircases, hallways and countless bedrooms, a blissful dream in your eyes. Nevermind the fact that you were still stuck on Tatooine. In fact, you seemed happy to stay, oddly attached to the sandy planet, something Boba found amusing.

A couple trips around the room later, and a few songs having gone by, the two of you now stand in the center of the empty room. Him, groaning in protest, and you, placing his hand on your waist yet again. You’ve spent the last few minutes trying to teach him a basic waltz, something your father had taught you when you were little. A rare memory you shared with him before he...well-

“Boba,” You scold with a giggle, “Try again.” Your request earns you another frustrated grumble from your partner. At some point you were able to coerce him into dancing with you, having pleaded desperately when your favorite classic came on. “C’mon, you nearly had it that time!”

He sighs loudly, tilting his helmet in an exasperated fashion. “Last time,” He says with finality, his finger raised in your direction.

You nod your head, an amused grin spread wide on your face.

He holds tight to your waist and reaches for your other hand, a final effort to humor you.

“And...1, 2, 3...1, 2, 3..” You begin moving again to the music, trying to swallow the snicker working its way up at the image of your armored partner staring at your feet for guidance. Visor following your every move, looking unsure and sloppy and quite honestly graceless.

You jump at the voice of a forgotten presence in the room.

“No! No, no, no, boss.” Enzo finally pipes up, his silent and judgemental self unable to be contained any longer. He moves forward with a swagger in his step as he struts towards you from his previous position against the wall, “You’ve gotta lead her by the waist,” He says pointedly, reaching for you “Observe-”

Boba’s arm shoots out, blocking Enzo by the pauldron, “You touch her, you're a dead man.” He growls, deflecting his attempt to take you by the waist.

You jerk slightly at the interaction, rolling your eyes and waiting for the show of dominance to subside.

Enzo’s hands raise in surrender, bowing away respectfully before returning to his earlier stance, no doubt a grin slapped on beneath his visor.

Boba’s hand returns to your waist with a shake of his head, noting your half-suppressed chuckle, evidently amused by the encounter.

“Alright,” He grunts, “once more.”

You start counting aloud, moving at a pace Boba can keep up with. You step out on the final eight count and slowly twirl back into his arms, your back now braced against his front. He tugs at your hips, holding you closer, “Mm,” He hums in your ear as you sway in your position, “Well I do like this.”

The sound of his accented voice filtering through the modulator sends a shiver down your spine, and you breathe out a light exhale as he releases you a moment later, turning you to face him.

“See,” You sigh, “You can dance.”

He hums in response, turning around to retrieve his weapon.

You move to face your hired gun, again leaning casually against the entryway.

“Do you actually know how to dance, Enzo?” You ask, reflecting on his earlier attempt at an intervention.

“-Wouldn’t matter if he did.” Boba interjects loudly over his shoulder, dismissing any ideas before they transpired.

You hear a light chuckle emitting through Enzo’s modulator, turning back to see his stance remaining motionless aside from the slight jerk in his shoulders.

Boba returns to your side, tapping his forehead against yours in an obvious farewell.

Your head falls heavily to one side as you tenderly hold one of his gloved hands, fingers tracing the rough fabric of his own. “Is that all the time you’ve allotted for me today, my king?” You say, a teasing smile pulling at your lips.

“Duty calls, I’m afraid.” He replies, “But perhaps I’ll come find you in a bit, see what further progress you’ve made.”

You nod, a slight frown tugging on your lips. You hesitate raising the concern suddenly weighing in your mind.

Ever since the incident with Crane occurred, Boba’s been...watchful. It’s not that he wasn’t protective of you before, it’s just that in the past few days he’s been protective of you in an entirely different way. He’s been hovering and checking in on you almost compulsively. Whereas before he seemed to want to keep you away during the busy hours of his day, now he seemed to want you near enough to reach in a moment's notice. Almost as if he’s worried you’ll abandon him when he’s not looking.

You wonder how he can still feel so worried after sharing such a fun and intimate moment with you.

So, you’ve given him some extra leeway, allowing him to hover to his heart's content until he seems secure in knowing that you’re not going anywhere.

That being said, you really didn’t mind Boba’s loitering close by to wherever you happened to be, you only wish you knew he wasn’t doing it because of the events that conspired earlier in the week.

“Boba,” You say lightly, catching his arm as he turns. “You don’t need to keep checking up on me, I’m not...you know I’m not going anywhere, right?”

He pauses at your words, hands stilling in their endeavor to tighten up loosened pieces of clothing and armor. You hope you haven't upset him in calling out his unusual conduct.

He averts his gaze to the side, pausing a moment before turning back to you. “I know.” He says nodding, a slight hint of defeat in his tone.

You hope perhaps some flattery will comfort him, stepping closer and lifting your gaze to meet his own. “My king,” you say in admiration, “You are a very busy man. You have a planet to rule. And an underworld to dominate. There are many things that I know put strain and worry in your mind, but whether or not your partner will still be here when you go looking for her should not be one of them.”

He doesn’t make any movements, and the face of his visor does little to allow you access to his thoughts.

“What I mean to say is,” You continue, “Go rule your empire. Your princess is safely stashed away in the palace you’ve encompassed her in.”

He breathes out a chuckle, and you smile, “I am happier here with you than I ever thought I’d be. I don’t want to be anywhere you won't be too, Boba Fett.” You reiterate your words from your conversation a few days ago. One that both started and ended with the two of you in tears. A rare moment between the two of you indeed. An exceedingly painful incident for him, having showcased the true depth of his love for you in such an unexpected and vulnerable way. And for you, to have seen the strongest and most fearless man you have ever known brought down to his knees, in tears, was absolutely gut-wrenching, especially in knowing that his own insecurities about your love had driven him to feel such fear.

You squeeze his arm and kiss the cheek of his helmet in valediction. His unmoving visor lingering on your face for an extended moment.

Boba’s hand makes its way to the back of your head, pulling you forward slightly before gently meeting you in the middle with his own helmet. Your foreheads pressed together in an intimate and tender kiss.

He pulls away silently, giving you a nod, a gesture you return with a small smile before watching him exit the room, Enzo in tow.

---------------------------------

You make your way to the kitchens, stomach growling unhappily at having been neglected all afternoon.

You pause under the doorway.

“I’ve seen you far too much today,” You sigh, feigning exasperation at the sight of Enzo shifting through the pantry for a meal to take to his room.

He stops his digging, turning to face you standing under the doorway before spinning back around.

“Vod’ika,” He greets, “Soup?” He holds a can up over his shoulder while reaching for a pot below the stove.

“No, thanks.” You say, approaching his station.

You pick up the canister of tomato soup, looking it over. “I doubt this tiny thing is even enough for just you.”

He glances down at the can in your hand. “I’ll do two then.”

You roll your eyes, what is it with these massive Mandalorians and not understanding proper nourishment?

“No, no.” You chide, “At least attempt to incorporate a healthy balance into your diet. Something with protein, maybe? Make a grilled porg-and-cheese melt to go with the soup. You can dip it in the broth, it’s delicious.”

His teal visor meets your face, shifting in uncertainty. “Can you do it?”

You sigh, “Fine.”

You get out the sandwich makings, opting to make one for yourself as well. You smear the bantha butter along four pieces of bread and grill them on a pan, layering sliced porg and cheese slices afterward.

You hear footsteps approaching the kitchen just as you’re pulling the finished sandwiches off the stove.

“Raul!” You greet with a smile, Enzo’s head whips in your direction. “We’re making sandwiches, want one?”

“You never sound that excited to see me.” Enzo declares.

You giggle at the accusation, sliding his sandwich onto a plate and handing it to him.

“Can I make you one, Raul?” You repeat.

He sighs, “No kid, thank you.” He steps forward and pulls Enzo’s plate from his hands, placing it away from him on the counter.

“Aye!” Enzo protests, wanting to transport his hot meal to his room so he could eat.

“We work for her,” Raul says, articulating the ‘we’ with an exaggerated hand gesture between the two of them. “You should be making her sandwich, not the other way around.”

“Oh, don’t be silly.” You groan, looking between the pair of Mandalorians.

“Yeah, Raul,” Enzo mocks, a slightly more threatening air to his tone. He retrieves the stolen soup and sandwich, “Don’t be a di’kut.”

Raul’s helmet tilts slightly at Enzo’s words. Not knowing exactly what the word means, but starting to get an unsettling feeling in your stomach, you attempt to intervene, “Guys-”

Just a moment too late.

Raul clamps a hand on Enzo’s arm, jolting him back from trying to pass him. His hand smacks the plate out of Enzo’s hand, the glass shattering before it even reaches the floor, and the soup and sandwich splattering everywhere.

“I made that-” You frown.

Now with two free hands, Enzo grips Raul’s shoulders and shoves him back against the brick ovens, a rough grunt escaping Raul when his helmet meets the open face of a hanging pan.

“Please stop-” You yelp, wincing as Enzo’s fist uppercuts into the weak spot under Raul’s helmet.

For being half a head shorter and not as obviously built as his opponent, the Mandalorian in black and teal armor could sure hold his own.

Raul spits something out in mando’a, his words seething as he grabs onto the cuff of the smaller Mandalorians neck covering and throws him with little exertion to the floor. You hear the crunching of glass beneath Raul’s boots as he growls with a foot on pressing to Enzo’s chest in an effort to force him into submission.

“-I wish you guys wouldn’t always do this.” You sigh, not bothering to shout anymore over the sound of beskar scraping against beskar.

You slide from your seat, taking your sandwich with you as you circle around the room to avoid becoming collateral damage in the red Mandalorian’s show of dominance.

“I have never witnessed two people fight over something so stupid in my life!” You call out behind you, tearing a piece of your sandwich off and popping it into your mouth. Leaving the sound of metal crashing against stone behind you.

---------------------------------

You sigh when you finally reach your room, ascending the steps inside your chambers to reach the bedroom. You’re about to sit down on the bed when you catch sight of your reflection, covered in dust patches and knee stains from when you scrubbed against the floor. You opt to take a quick shower instead, washing out all the grime gathered in your hair and skin.

It takes a couple minutes of harsh scrubbing for the water to stop running off your body brown. You take extra care to wash behind your ears and around your hairline, where dirt likes to plant itself firmly.

You turn the water off when the last few soap suds slide off your hair, wrapping yourself in a warm towel.

Taking a glance out the window, you note that the suns are already setting low on the horizon, and resign yourself to just staying in for the rest of the night.

You pull on a slip dress and wrap yourself in Boba’s robe, inhaling his comforting, musky scent. You reach for your book on the nightstand before lighting a couple of candles around the space, creating a warm and cozy environment.

Satisfied with the aesthetic you set around you, you plop down on your bed and hope to get a few chapters into your novel before Boba gets home. Admittedly getting distracted a couple times by the stunning, shaded view out your window, exposing you to the last few moments of the captivating sunset.

Boba comes home a little over an hour later, the glow in your chambers now reduced to only a few lamps and the candlelight spread about your room, but enough to alert Boba of your presence.

You hear his heavy armored footsteps trudging up towards the bedroom. You turn your head expectantly when he reaches the top. Helmet in hand, he pauses for a moment upon seeing you, admiring the image of your figure wrapped up in his robe and curled up with a book, before stepping forward and greeting you with a kiss.

He pulls back, gaze immediately flickering to the window, probably having noticed it immediately upon entering the room but choosing to greet you before acknowledging it.

You groan internally, knowing what's coming.

“Mesh’la,” He hums, frowning at the open curtains exposing you to the darkness of the Tatooine night. A few dim lights from Mos Eisley shining in the distance. He steps forward to slide the curtains closed, you don’t complain, only having wanted them open for sunset. “What have I told you, little one? It's not safe to have these open.”

“I only just opened them, Boba.” You fib a little, hoping to reassure him.

He nods, unconvinced, before beginning to strip himself of his armor. You observe him unlatch the beskar piece-by-piece, placing the armor neatly in its designated chest.

He groans loudly when he sinks down beside you, arms raising behind his head.

You giggle at his tired show of soreness, eyes still glued to the pages of your book. “Old man,” You mutter.

“Watch it.” He growls lowly. You glance a peek at him, eyes closed heavily against his cheeks.

You ponder your bravery for a moment, sticking your nose back in your book before impulsively whispering, “Relic.” You shriek, bursting into a fit of laughter as he suddenly reaches over and wrestles the book out of your hands, using it to plant a harsh smack on your behind.

“Boba Fett!” You squeal, hands moving to shield your bum as the vibrations from his deep laugh shake the bed.

Still holding the book up in a threatening manner, a childlike gleam in his eyes, he challenges you, “Apologize.”

You consider tossing another remark out, eyes darting to the book in his hand, before deciding against it tonight.

Instead, you hoist yourself up onto your knees, allowing his robe to slowly slide down your form and meet the duvet, revealing the thin slip below. His closed-lip smile increases a little, eyes tracing down your form, book lowering slightly in the space above where he lay.

You crawl forward until your chest hovers above him, noses nearly touching, “My apologies, my king.” You whisper, pressing a kiss to his lips.

He deepens the kiss with a groan, your hand reaching back to grip your novel, which he allows you to slip from his fingers.

You let him attack you lips for another moment before you pull away. Having gotten what you wanted, you shift back to your side of the bed, turning to the page you left off at.

A deep chuckle rumbles out from Boba’s chest. “Alright, little one.” He says, “I'll let you play your game.”

He turns the light out on his side of the bed, pulling the blankets out and over the two of you before moving to embrace your form, leaning close to whisper in your ear, “-this time.”

A shiver runs down your spine and you try to resist the smile tugging at your lips, though you feel his own brushing against your ear in satisfaction.

“Tomorrow,” He says, shifting a little above you, “I’m heading into Mos Eisley with Fennec.

“What for?” You ask, finally marking your page and setting it aside.

“Nothing,” He grumbles, “I need to put on a little show of...authority, for a few people.”

You hum, “No big deal?” You question.

“Just a local inconvenience.” He gripes.

You nod slightly, not requiring any elaboration. You suppose you’ll have to entertain yourself tomorrow. “Well then, maybe I’ll have Raul teach me how to wield a dagger,” You quip, a grin back on your face.

Boba huffs out an amused puff of air, “I’d much prefer you with a blaster.” He says, apparently taking the idea seriously, “You don’t need to be up close to use it.”

“We’ll see then,” You say, standing to turn out the rest of the lights.

A single lit candle from your bedside table casts a warm glow over Boba’s face, eyes closed and head still leaning back against your bed-frame pillow.

“Get back on your side,” You chuckle, nudging him as you crawl back into your space.

“M’fine here.” He mumbles, leaning further over onto your pillow.

You smile, his body encasing yours and his nose presses into your neck.

“I’ll be fine here too you know.” You mutter, referencing the day you’ll be spending without his guard.

“You finally gonna stop worrying about me?” You tease, having received no response.

He shakes his head, snuggling deeper into your neck, “Never.”

---------------------------------

A/N pt.2: So I wrote this and I thought it was great then I read it back a few times and realized literally nothing happened haha im so sorry 😅😅😅

Literally spent too many hours on this not to upload though so I suppose here’s a filler chapter my bad lots of love ��

#an angel amongst demons #Boba Fett #boba x reader #boba x you #the mandalorian #book of boba fett #din djarin #mando #boba!palace #soft!boba #king!boba #boba fett x reader #boba's palace

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weighty-ghosts · 3 years ago

Text

‘My Favourite Dark Creature’ (wolfstar)

My Favourite Dark Creature, by weightyghosts

“‘The flirtations were getting out of control, and either Sirius knew the effect he had on Remus and enjoyed torturing him, or he was completely oblivious and Remus would have to put up with it for the rest of his miserable, lonely life.’

A story of fantasies and fears, pining, and love languages.”

Rating: Teen

Word count: 2729

Pairing: Remus x Sirius

Published: March 10, 2021

Warnings: None

https://archiveofourown.org/works/29950935

“I swear you’ll be the death of me one day,” Remus grumbled at Sirius, straightening up after having almost been decapitated by the case of butterbeer Sirius was levitating.

“It’s possible,” Sirius quipped, “I am heart-stoppingly good looking.”

“‘Stoppingly’ is not a word,” Remus sighed as they continued down the underground tunnel, illuminated only by the bright blue flames Remus had charmed to float above their heads. He twisted his wand so that his own case did an elegant flip over Sirius’. They’d learned by now to put protection charms on the bottles for the hike back from Hogsmeade to Hogwarts. Sirius tended to get bored.

“At least you agree about my looks,” Sirius remarked with a casual toss of his long hair.

“What gave you that idea?”

“You didn’t disagree,” he replied simply.

“Yeah, but I didn’t agree,” Remus countered.

“Yeah, but you didn’t disagree.”

“Considering my heart is pounding away in my chest,” Remus pointed out in a patronizing tone, “Your theory must be incorrect.”

“Oh it’s pounding away, is it?” Sirius raised his eyebrows, a teasing smile on his lips.

“Don’t make a dirty joke because I said pounding,” Remus pleaded, and neatly skirted his case out of the way when Sirius tried to knock it against the wall.

“I don’t know where your mind is, Mr. Moony-”

“Unfortunately spending too much time with you, Mr. Padfoot.”

“-But I was only going to ask if it’s normal for your heart to be pounding while walking at a leisurely pace? Or,” Sirius stopped abruptly, and pulled Remus to a halt beside him, “Is it being in proximity to an outrageously gorgeous bloke, such as myself, that makes your pulse race?”

“My pulse isn’t racing, thank you very much,” Remus lied, his voice much more stable than he felt. He was mesmerized by the way the dark lighting threw deep indigo shadows on Sirius’ face, accentuating his sharp cheekbones and alluring Cupid’s bow.

“Shall we see?” Sirius whispered. He reached out and brushed his fingers along Remus’ neck, just above his collarbone and up to a spot below his jaw, right where Sirius would be able to feel his frantic heart.

Remus cleared his suddenly dry throat. “My heart rate is faster than yours,” he quickly grasped for an excuse, “Werewolf thing.”

“Really?” Sirius asked, looking from Remus’ neck back up to his eyes as his curiosity was piqued. It was enough of a distraction for Remus to wriggle away from him.

“No,” he grinned over his shoulder as he fled the scene, trying to walk as fast as he could without it seeming like he was actually running from Sirius.

His case of butterbeer bounced off the wall as he rushed around a corner, and he finally spotted the false wall that hid the entrance to the secret passageway. Remus almost groaned with relief. He had to get away from Sirius; the flirtations were getting out of control, and either Sirius knew the effect he had on Remus and enjoyed torturing him, or he was completely oblivious and Remus would have to put up with it for the rest of his miserable, lonely life.

“You know,” Sirius remarked as he appeared behind Remus, “Lying is a huge turn off, Moony.”

“So is your massive ego, Padfoot,” Remus replied.

They set their cases on the ground, tapping them with their wands so that they shrunk down to pocket size. After straightening up with the bottles safely tucked away, Sirius pulled James’ invisibility cloak from his robes and, once again, stepped up to Remus. “I only state the facts, Moony.”

“It’s not like I was trying to turn you on,” Remus said, trying to sound defensive, but failing as his voice wavered when Sirius crowded into his space. He took out his wand and extinguished the blue flames so that Sirius couldn’t see his panicked face, plunging them into near darkness.

“Good,” Sirius retorted in a low voice, and threw the cloak over them. “Neither was I.”

“Good,” Remus echoed, and looked away under the pretence of bending his neck so they would fit without their feet showing. He didn’t know why he played this game with Sirius. It always ended with Sirius having the upper hand, and Remus blushing and running away. He could easily change the subject, talk about disgusting things like bubotuber pus or whatever was growing under Pete’s bed, but apparently he couldn’t help himself.

He could feel Sirius watching him for a moment before he turned and opened the hidden entrance. They came out onto the first floor, stepping around the statue of Gregory the Smarmy as the concealed wall silently moved back into place on its own. They made their way to the main staircase, and Remus braced himself for the intimate trek to Gryffindor tower, intensely aware of the warm air they were sharing, as well as every place their limbs brushed against each other.

“Pete’s birthday should be fun tomorrow,” Remus blurted out, desperate for something to focus on that wasn’t the enticing scent of his best mate’s hair.

“Yeah,” Sirius agreed, glancing sideways at Remus, “As long as we make sure he’s the centre of attention, he’ll have a great time.”

“You mean as long as you sacrifice your own time in the spotlight?” Remus mocked, playfully elbowing Sirius in the side.

“Oi!” Sirius protested, reciprocating with his own elbow jab, “I’m happy to shine the spotlight on a mate when it’s his birthday.”

“So all the girls that will undoubtedly be fawning over you, you’ll send them Pete’s way?”

“Of course.”

“But then who will you let out all of your charm on, Sirius?” Remus pretended to be utterly concerned by this, “I think you might implode if you don’t flirt your way into someone’s knickers at a party.”

Sirius scowled at him in a way that Remus thought he shouldn’t find so damn attractive, but then again, he was fairly sure Sirius could have his eyebrows hexed off and Remus would still want to snog him silly.

“I sense a challenge, Moony,” Sirius declared, “And I accept.”

“I didn’t challenge you,” Remus pointed out, “But I don’t think you could do it anyway.”

“You might be right.” Sirius tapped his chin as he mused on this. “I need an outlet,” he concluded, turning to Remus with a cheeky smile, “How about you, my Moony dearest? Perhaps I’ll woo you at the party tomorrow.”

“Woo me?” Remus snorted, pushing down the frenzied butterflies that had spawned in his stomach. “No, thank you.”

“I see. Well, maybe that’s for the best,” Sirius said with a shrug of casual indifference, “I doubt you could handle the full power of the Sirius Black charm.”

“You don’t think so?”

“Nope. I haven’t met anyone yet who’s been able to resist.”

Remus snickered. “McGonagall does a pretty good job.”

“Nah, Minnie loves it,” Sirius dismissed him with a wave of his hand, “She wants me.”

“What a fun little fantasy world you live in, Sirius.”

“Trust me, Remus,” Sirius dropped his voice as if he were letting Remus in on a furtive secret, “If we were in my fantasy world, this evening would have gone a lot differently.”

Remus stopped walking so suddenly that Sirius almost entirely slipped out from under the cloak. He quickly backtracked and sidled up to Remus, surreptitiously looking around to make sure no one had seen the lower half of his body.

“What is it?”

What is it? Did Sirius really expect Remus not to pause at his remark? At the possible implication that Sirius might be having fantasies about him? He felt a hot blush creep up his neck, colouring his cheeks.

Sirius must have been able to see his flushed face even in the dimly lit castle, or maybe he could feel the heat radiating off Remus, because he smirked in a thoroughly smug (and distractingly sexy) way. “Told you that you couldn’t handle my charm, Moony.”

“No,” Remus huffed with indignation, “It’s not that.” He tried to reassure himself that Sirius was just kidding. Sure, this might have been taking the flirting further than he ever had before, but Sirius flirted with everyone. What made Remus any different?

“Then what is it?” Sirius asked tentatively. He was chewing on the inside of his cheek, a habit he couldn’t control when he was unsure or nervous, and Remus didn't know what to make of that.

“I was just...” Just thinking about my own fantasies that you star in almost every night, Sirius. No, he couldn’t do it. He didn’t understand Sirius’ feelings or motivations, and not understanding something made Remus uneasy. He swivelled back to familiar territory, “Er, just thinking what a dark and terrifying place your fantasy world must be.”

“Oh,” Sirius exhaled with a shaky laugh. “Yeah, you definitely wouldn’t want to go there,” he said, as they started to softly walk through the halls again, “Spooky stuff.”

“Full of ghosts and ghouls and dark creatures?” Remus teased.

“Yeah, but don’t worry,” Sirius reassured, his mouth pulled into a warm half-smile, “My favourite dark creature is there to keep me company.”

Before Remus could respond, they arrived at the portrait hole, and Sirius looked around for any roaming prefects or professors, before tugging the invisibility cloak off of them. “Treacle tart,” he said to the Great Lady, who grumbled sleepily at them and opened the hidden door to their common room, which was empty due to the late hour.

Remus climbed through first, his thoughts reeling as he waited for Sirius. Remus liked to think he knew Sirius well after more than six years. Sirius wasn’t one to spell out his innermost thoughts and feelings; he hinted at things, showing his emotions through actions, not words. And how did he act with Remus?

Moments of their friendship played inside his mind, quickly flipping past like the scenery through the windows of the Hogwarts Express: Sirius’ gentle hands on him after the full moon; Sirius bringing him his favourite tea; helping Remus with his homework when he’s too exhausted to think straight; pulling a blanket over him when he’s fallen asleep reading; becoming an animagus for him so that he doesn’t have to spend the worst nights of his life alone every month…

It was hard for Remus to admit. Even though his parents had done what they could to make him feel loved, a part of him always suspected that that was out of guilt or obligation. He had spent so much of his life believing he wasn’t good enough, or human enough, to truly be loved. But didn’t Sirius spend every day showing Remus how much he loved him?

They ascended the stairs to the boy’s dorms silently, both lost in thought, and Remus’ doubts began to filter in as quickly as his hope had. Sirius would be mad to choose a dark creature over a whole, healthy human. While Sirius claimed to never be afraid of Remus, friendship was different from a romantic relationship. Wouldn’t he be scared to spend his life with someone like Remus?

They reached their dorm and paused outside it, turning so they faced each other.

“You’re not afraid of him, then?” Remus asked in a low voice, fidgeting with his shirt sleeve.

“Who?” Sirius asked, blinking as if coming out of a haze. He also kept his voice down so as not to alert James or Peter that they were there. “My favourite dark creature?”

Remus nodded minutely. “Must be dangerous, no?”

“Nah,” Sirius grinned as he dismissed that as a ridiculous question, “He’s as harmless as a crup.”

Remus snorted in disbelief, though there was no humour in it.

“It’s true,” Sirius insisted. “Besides,” he murmured, sliding closer so they were almost toe to toe, “What’s life without a little danger, Moony?”

All Remus could hear was his pulse hammering in his ears, and all Remus could see was Sirius looking up at him, his dark grey eyes brewing with a storm of emotion that was yet unfamiliar to Remus. He was pulled towards Sirius as if the gravity that grounded him to the earth had now flowed to the beautiful person in front of him, and he could feel a tectonic shift occurring under the surface of their friendship.

He moved closer, until Sirius’ breath came as warm puffs of air on his face, and just as Remus’ eyes slid down to his lips, they parted as Sirius spoke.

“I am a little afraid, I think,” he confided in a soft voice.

Remus jerked back, not having realized just how close he’d been leaning in, his eyes wide with alarm. He’s afraid of me, he’s afraid of me, I knew it.

“No!” Sirius exclaimed, “No, Moony, not...I’m not afraid of you,” he hastened to explain. He put his hands up, as if he were going to reach out and place them on Remus’ chest, but reconsidered and dropped them lower, playing with the fabric on the front of Remus’ robes. He was chewing on his cheek again, his gaze focused on his fingers. “I’m just... I don’t want…”

Remus felt that magnetic pull again, like his heart was trying to jump out of his chest and into Sirius’ hands. “You don’t want what?”

Sirius’ shimmering eyes flicked back up to his, and he whispered, “I don’t want-”

They both jumped a foot in the air as the dormitory door was abruptly yanked open, and they leapt apart when James’ confused face peered out.

“What’re you two doing?” He asked, frowning with suspicion.

Sirius put on a smile and patted James’ shoulder. “Just talking about how much we missed you this evening, Prongsie.” He sidled past James without another glance at Remus.

James rolled his eyes and moved aside for Remus to follow. “More like plotting how you’ll get me and Wormy to go on the next Hogsmeade run so you lazy arses don’t have to.”

“We were happy to do it for our Wormy’s birthday,” Sirius refuted in a dignified voice. He stepped over to Peter, who was laying on his bed, and took out his miniature case of butterbeer to hand it to him. Peter grinned as he accepted it.

Remus walked over and did the same, watching as Peter tucked them away in his trunk with the other supplies for the party, and avoided looking at Sirius as they settled in to go over the birthday plan again.

A little while later, Remus was in his pyjamas, brushing his teeth alone in the bathroom, when Sirius came in. He wandered over to the sinks and hovered next to Remus, methodically taking out his toothbrush and squeezing on his favourite rhubarb toothpaste, a thoughtful expression on his face. Remus was rinsing his mouth and about to bolt from the room when Sirius spoke.

“I was thinking, Moony,” he garbled around his toothbrush, looking up into the mirror so their eyes met. “I don’t know if we have enough butterbeer for tomorrow.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah,” Sirius nodded earnestly, “We might have to go back to Hogsmeade before the party.”

Remus saw a glint of a promise, a secret, in Sirius’ eyes, and he felt those same frenzied butterflies migrate back into his stomach.

“‘We’ as in…”

“You and me, of course,” Sirius stated, as if this were obvious, and leaned down to spit into the sink before rinsing his mouth. He turned towards Remus, their faces inches away, and Sirius reached out to tug gently on the hem of Remus’ shirt, “That tunnel is spooky,” he continued in a low voice, “I’ll need my werewolf there with me.”

Remus could see in the mirror that his mouth had popped open in surprise, but he couldn’t seem to get his brain working again to do something about it. He should respond, but his mind was completely empty, except for the vague thought that Sirius still looked gorgeous with toothpaste on his chin.

Sirius suddenly dropped his hand and stepped back, beaming at Remus. “‘Night, Moons,” he said cheerily, then dashed out of the room, leaving Remus staring after him.

That night, it took Remus a long time to fall asleep, but when he did, it was with a smile on his face, and the words, ‘my werewolf,’ playing on repeat in his head.

#wolfstar #sirius black #remus lupin #ficbyweightyghosts #i know i called her the great lady instead of the fat lady #fat is beautiful #but jkr is fatphobic af and i question her motives #pre-wolfstar #wolfstar fluff #hogwarts #marauders era #marauders #James potter #peter pettigrew #almost kiss #flirting #wolfstar flirting #padfoot x moony

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cherryyjjk · 4 years ago

Text

forever rain [2]

summary: to greek gods, it was a well-known fact that the fates liked to play tricks. but was this too far? what would happen when they made two unlikely gods have a tugging string in their hearts, yearning for each other?

pairing: hades!jin x persephone!reader

genre: fluff / angst / greek god! au / black swan! au

word count: 18.3k

warnings: the use of the word “whore” / cursing / snake mention

a/n: WOW this is the most i’ve ever written for a fic. please check out both pt 1 and the note about this series in my masterlist before reading! i know this is SO overdue like a year overdue. i’ve been writing it in the last three months bc school <<. anyways, thanks for reading and enjoy!! :D

By the time you wake up, he is gone— not that you had known he sat next to you. But when you rose up from your slumber, a coat fell from your shoulders.

His..?

You looked at it and wondered if he had given it to you. It was a thoughtful gesture, and a necessary one as your hands were getting numb. Before wrapping it around your shoulders, you stretch your hands above you. Blinking the drowsiness out of your eyes and sitting up a little further, you yawned and decided to stand up. Your feet hit a softer material that you weren’t expecting, making you look down. The cold floor that was there yesterday was covered by a soft gray rug and you moved your toes to feel it more.

Him and his dark colors.

You rolled your eyes at the color palette of the entire room and thought that maybe the guy hadn’t decorated in a while. It made you think of Yoongi's liking for dark colors even though he was viewed as basically the opposite— the god of love. If you were going to live here for the rest of your life, a thought that made you sigh, might as well change the place a bit. Adding tones of lighter colors would not be so bad, maybe brighten up the room and seem less like a cave and more like a palace. You looked around the room to the lanterns on the wall and decided that you would have to do something about that.

It didn’t even light up the room! What was the point of lights if you can’t even see the floor?

The air seemed less tense than when you entered the palace and you were definitely feeling it. The entire palace was suffocating when you walked inside, cold and sharp as if to hurt you. But now, it seemed different. Maybe not soft or lush like your home— or what was your home in the mortal realm. It was rather empty instead of spikes, a little bit better, but not great either.

You continued to look around the room before your eyes landed on a small nightstand and saw a few warmer clothes. You walked towards it and with one hand, as the other was tightly holding his coat, you felt the material. It was a lot thicker than your chiton and was a dark green, reminiscent of the forest trees back home. Your lips lifted up in a light smile at the thought and decided to change into it. Before removing your current dress, you saw that there was a flower. You didn’t understand how flowers could grow in the Underworld, and when you picked it up and realized it was a silver color, but fake. Not the color of jewelry that you often saw other mortals wearing, but like a coin. It was pretty.

A piece of paper fell on the floor that had been next to the flower. Picking up to read it, you were surprised by the penmanship.

My apologies, Persephone. I have some duties I must attend to in Olympus. This palace is yours as well, ask for anything to the ghosts and they shall bring it.

You grimaced. While it was a thoughtful gesture in any other circumstance, you still were wary of this God. Putting the flower back on the table, you changed. The dress made you feel a lot warmer and the cloak was quickly discarded.

What time was it in the mortal world?

You wondered how time seemed to simultaneously slow down and speed up. Slowly tip-toeing out the room, you closed the door behind you very softly and continued through the hall. The hall seemed a little more lit up but it was still darker than usual. You wondered if you could use your powers to grow a bioluminescent lily, and light up the hallway. But after squeezing your eyes shut to concentrate, holding your palms out, and thinking heavily about life, you could not do it. You couldn’t even produce a regular lily. You didn’t understand.

Where did my powers go? How would I go back home? Was I.. not a goddess anymore?

You took a few deep breaths and reminded yourself, relax, it’s fine. But it seemed far from fine, you would just have to ask Hades when you saw him. You roamed around the hallways, finding winding staircases, huge rooms, empty rooms, rooms that weren’t empty but you wished they were when you saw inside, and all filled with the scent of death. You quickly turned away from those rooms and opted to keep walking.

It seemed that minutes turned into an hour, an hour and a half, then two. You brought your hands together and rubbed them together. The hallway seemed to never end and you wondered where the door was. You just wanted some fresh air, you tried convincing yourself. It’s not like I’m trying to escape..

“Excuse me,” a voice called out. Your eyes widened and you whipped your head back to only see more darkness, and heard it continue, “but who are you?”

“Don’t come closer! I might seem weak but I could knock you out with one punch.” Your voice was a lot steadier than you let on. You were tired of being afraid all the time.

“..I’m sure you can but you didn’t answer my question. I don’t care what type of hero or princess you were as a mortal but you’re dead now. Listen up, I’m in charge here.”

“Mortal?”

“Yes, didn’t your mother ever tell you not to get a God angry?”

“..I’m Kore, the daughter of Demeter. Goddess of the Spring, flora, and fauna. Whoever you are, know this. I am in charge here.”

The hallway suddenly brightened up and you lifted yourself with your head held up high. While the light was too bright for your eyes, you tried not to let it phase you and faced the figure that revealed itself in the light. You glared at the man in front of you, he was wrapped in a black cloth— seriously, what was up with the color scheme here?— and wouldn’t meet your eyes. He quickly glanced at you with a grimace but kept his head down for the remainder of the time as he felt utterly embarrassed. His scythe that was on his back made your eyebrows raise.

“Well?”

“Look, I’m sorry—“

“You better be, and you better tell me quickly why you tried to trick me before I turn you into a cactus.”

“..I’m Thanatos, the God of Death, the one who reaps the souls. I..I come here to report to Hades. I didn’t know his wife was here.”

At the word wife, you twitched. You weren’t just someone’s wife, you were your own goddess. Styx, the gods needed to learn some manners. You stepped up close to him, still with a serious gaze. Grabbing his shoulder, you speak coldly.

“Don’t call me just his wife. I’m more than that.”

“R-right, sorry. Kore.”

“No, not Kore. That is reserved for my mother and the nymphs. Call me, Y/N.”

Thanatos looked at you quizzically. You seemed so calm and usually this was where the other gods would punish him. You gave a small smile before complimenting on his scythe. He had never encountered any god that was so carefree and kind. You looked young, maybe a few eons old, yet your eyes held a soft wise look that could only come with experiences.

You asked curiously, “Did you make it so that these hallways are so dark?”

Thanatos answered quickly and rushed over his words, “Um, yes. I apologize. It’s much brighter because Hades sometimes mirrors the daytime of the mortal world.”

“Hm, so you’re the one who made me lost!”

Thanatos tried to test his luck, he was a God he couldn’t possibly die, right?

“..You’ve been wandering in circles for the last half an hour.”

“..And?”

You scoffed at his continued rudeness but it seemed more playful than last time. It was better than being alone all the time, sure, but you wanted to ask someone who didn’t know what was going on like you. Couldn’t the Fates just help you out here? But truly, you were happy to smile and have a friend.

“It gets kinda lonely here, doesn’t it?”

“..Yes. Hades often works until he collapses.”

“You don’t have to be so formal with me, please let us walk.”

You pondered over Thanatos’s words, did he really work like that? That wasn’t healthy but you wouldn’t fret over it for too long, he could take care of himself. Switching to think about yourself, you realized you didn’t have any contact with Jimin, your mother, or anyone else you knew. It was just you in this huge palace, and the guy in front of you of course.

“Hm, Thanatos?”

“Yes?”

“Is it.. just you here?”

“Well, mortal souls come and go. Some heroes test their luck with Hades but he’s colder than Hera.”

“In that case, mind being my companion until I go home?”

Thanatos didn’t understand your request. Not only had you just asked the personification of death, the son of Nyx, to be your friend, but you proposed it as if you were leaving. No one but himself and Hades left the Underworld. Thanatos was baffled beyond measure and his face showed it completely. You tried not to get frustrated at his obvious confusion and waited patiently.

“Oh, um. Sure.”

“Awesome, now onto more important matters. Why the fuck am I here?”

“W-What? What do you mean? Didn’t Zeus—”

“Namjoon? I haven’t seen that old man in ages!”

Thanatos stuttered, understanding that you were a powerful Goddess was one thing but talking about the King of all Gods so casually was a whole other. “Well, Hades has visited you once, when you were younger. He asked Zeus for your name and Zeus told him that you and your mother would have wanted this union.”

“When I was younger? OH!”

Suddenly you remembered when you had first come down to Earth to live with your mother. She was busy the first few months and had let you wander off (with nymph supervision of course) but as the mischievous child you were, you had run fast away until you hit a river. At the river you distinctly remembered a young man, the same age as you practically, that held out a purple flower. Entranced by the dark petals— usually only bright yellows and oranges were flowers— and by the dashing young man, you had become friends. Rarely speaking about yourselves, you would talk about flowers. Something both of you really liked. Now that Thanatos mentioned it, the black messed up hair seemed to resemble Hades, and his love for dark colors— something that you didn’t quite agree with— was evident too.

“Oh..I see. Well, my mother would never give me off to someone! She’s wonderful and very protective so Joon’s lied to you. But I guess that’s something to settle with Hades himself. Now, what’s something fun we could do around here?”

Thanatos slowly smiled at your enthusiasm, it was like a breath of life into his life. He had lived most of his life in the shadow of his mentor, Hades and although he enjoyed Hades’s company..it was hurting him. Thanatos wanted to be known for his own thing, why didn’t he have altars or temples in the mortal realm? Though that question was probably fruitless since mortals didn’t know what they were doing most of the time.

For the next few days, or weeks— you couldn’t really tell— you spent your time with Thanatos when he was free. He was free almost all of the time, showing many new rooms and how to not get lost through the hallways. He also let you vent about your worries. You worried that your mother must have been saddened without your presence, and maybe even Jimin was missing your short talks. Hopefully the flowers in the meadow had fully bloomed by now. All of these things, and more, kept running through your head and you liked that Thanatos had basically nothing else to do but give you advice. You appreciated his company but you wanted to see the person that brought you here too. Hades— Seokjin you figured out from Thanatos— was apparently extremely busy with human deaths. Maybe there was a new sacrifice that Zeus was putting them through? Or maybe another war? You didn’t really care too much until you realized that Seokjin would have to stay up there, counting and making sure that everyone and everything that died was in place before coming back. That’s supposed to be Thanatos’s job but apparently even he couldn’t round that many people. Strange.

A conversation with Thanatos also raised your frustration.

“So Tan-Tan.”

“No.”

“Tosy?”

“Nope.”

“Tanny?”

“..Can you please just call me Thanatos, Y/N.”

“You call me Y/N! Come on, let me give you a nickname.”

“Y/N is the name you chose. That’s different and no.”

“You’re literally so boring. Anyways, when’s Hades coming back? I’m getting tired of your face.”

“I am literally not boring! I’m Death, how can I be boring? aND MY FACE IS PRETTY WHAT DO YOU MEAN?!”

“You talk like— never mind. Ignoring your pretty obvious questions, I asked, why is Seokjin taking so long?”

Thanatos paused, Zeus had warned the minor god that if he told Y/N what was happening in the world above, he’d be cursed. Being cursed as a God was the farthest from good.

“Mortals..have been in a war recently.”

“Oh, whatever for? They have food, warm weather, sunshine, and plentiful water. There shouldn’t be anything missing…Right?”

Good thing that he would be able to escape your line of questions by just disappearing in a fit of smoke. You glared at Thanatos and when you started seeing smoke forming. You lifted your hand to stop him but it passed through the air like nothing was there.

Stupid Thanatos, thinking he can trick me. I’ll figure out what’s happening up there!

You tried to be determined but you were scared too.

You reached for the front door of the palace, somehow making itself very easy to find, and you pulled on the handle. It didn’t budge. You pulled harder, it stayed the same. Realizing that you were still stuck here, you tried punching the door. But that only left you with a hurt pride and a bruised knuckle. Groaning loudly, you dragged your feet back to your bedroom and decided to take a nap.

Better than waiting for him to come back.

By the time you woke up, an empty gold plate was left on your nightstand. You rubbed the drowsiness out of your eyes and reached for it. Ghost servants usually came to give you your meals this way. An empty plate where you can think about what you want and it’ll appear. It was pretty nice but you were getting more tired about the fact that no one would eat with you.

You finished your lunch? Dinner? You didn’t know and didn’t bother figuring out. A few days ago, Thanatos had shown you a library and you had been encouraged to use it. You had picked out a few books and was still reading it. (F/G) was by far the best genre and you always liked authors that wrote about it.

While reading on the bed, you decided to move around for a change of scenery. Wandering the hallways alone, you stopped in front of your favorite room. The throne room. Also the room that was “off limits” but you lived here so you didn’t really care.

The warning was for a reason. Hades didn’t think you would be there and so when he first shadow travelled there, he was surprised. Finally, the person that plagued your days and nights had come home. But he didn’t look great.

You had heard his footsteps before seeing his face, thinking it was just Thanatos. You sat on Hades’s throne, as it was the only one there. It looked a lot like a hard brick of marble, and definitely felt like it, but it was a lot softer than you imagined too. Not nearly as soft as the meadows back home. It was cold and smooth, like the freshwater rivers.

Wonderful.

Soft footsteps grabbed your attention from the book and up to the person in front of you. Your feet that were haphazardly thrown over the throne quickly turned around to the front. The book once in your hands dropped to the floor but you didn’t rush forward to meet him.

Hades.

“What happened?” You asked breathlessly, your hands fumbling with each other but your feet didn’t move. Hades’s shirt was soaked with gold and he was limping towards you.

Was this a trick? To make you vulnerable?

He looked at you and you could only comprehend the soft murmur of your name on his lips before he fell forward, his eyes closing shut.

You’re here...Y/N..

Running towards his side, you caught him as he landed on your chest. You felt a blade handle on his back and held back a scream.

Hades had gone up to Mount Olympus the very next morning after your arrival into the palace. His brother Namjoon had looked at him in confusion, Seokjin never came late to their monthly briefings, opting to come on time and leave as fast as he could, but usually they would take a few weeks to finish. His hair had been tousled through several times and he kept clutching his feather necklace when listening to Namjoon, Hermes, and the other gods and goddesses’s discussion of famine, war, and other things that were troubling mortals.

They only knew this because mortals just loved to blame the gods for not being able to do anything to save them. But, when in peril, their curses turned into prayers and while it annoyed the everliving Styx out of all them, it made sense. Deities that were supposed to be all powerful couldn’t even get rid of a simple plague or bug that was absolutely destroying the population and food? Seemed sketchy.

Namjoon wanted to ask what his brother was thinking about but whenever he looked at the feather dangling from his neck, he shut his mouth. When the Gods were first born to take care of the world, Namjoon had banished Seokjin to the Underworld. Only giving a necklace with a black feather before doing so, saying that his miseries would be fulfilled when the necklace was put on its rightful owner. What authority did he have on his brother’s life if he was the one who made it so horrible?

No, Namjoon would keep his bruised ego to himself and stay silent. He did not get the right to ask him what the matter was— it just seemed wrong and distasteful. So, he turned a blind eye and let Seokjin leave in a rush. Jin always left in a rush, he didn’t like sleeping in Olympus for so long. Namjoon was so preoccupied with his thoughts, that he didn’t notice his brother stopping at the foot of Olympus and meeting her.

Unfortunately for Seokjin, it was only the mother of who he was so concerned about. He wondered if the Fates had just thought it would be funny to pair the quietest god with you. He had heard wonderful stories of you, Kore. The original reason he was so attracted to you. Zeus himself had told him that you were the strongest and kindest Goddess there was, sprinkling in your humor and beauty to try and make you seem more appealing. But Seokjin had met you once, you had mistaken him for a minor god. That was eons ago, you probably didn’t even remember but the way you had walked towards him, with such confidence and power.

God, he really liked you.

He felt bad at the same time, here he was, this lovestruck God, for a Goddess that probably despised him from taking you away from your home. Did the Fates hate you so badly to let Zeus convince him to take you? Jin was about to greet your mother but the slap to his face certainly made him backtrack.

Demeter slapped him and the fury she brought with her made all present in Olympus tremble. She spoke with such power, it was clear where you inherited your confidence.

“Are you happy? Now that you have my daughter all to yourself?”

Jin gently touched his red cheek, confused at the sudden aggression and onslaught of questions.

Didn’t Zeus say that Demeter and you were glad to be offered a proposal from him?

“She’s the only thing that kept me alive, the world spinning, and here you are, not even at her side! You fool! Don’t take my status among the Olympians lightly, I am still powerful and if you cross me I will make you regret it.”

Demeter yelled out in one breath, as if she had been waiting years to say it. Her frustration and anger was evident and the icy tone could easily cut harshly into the heart, “Does it bring you so much joy to have Persephone all to yourself? My most precious possession—?”

“She is not an object.”

Demeter paused, then scoffed at Seokjin’s quiet but confident interjection. She glanced up at him and almost gasped at his eyes which had a purple fire burning in them.

Instinctively taking a step back and crossing her arms around her shoulders, she continued, “..Obviously. But you’re still in the wrong. How dare you take her! I’m her mother, you are nothing.”

The fire in Seokjin’s eyes simmered down but were still clearly there, and he responded with a level tone, “It doesn’t matter who I am or will be to Y/N. You or any other living, dead, or immortal being can not talk about her like that.”

“Stop talking like the hero, you stole her!”

“Stole her? Zeus said—”

“Zeus is a liar. You, of all people, should know this.”

Seokjin fell quiet and his eyes returned to their normal color, he couldn’t bring himself to disagree now that he knew the truth. He had stolen you, and he laughed at himself in his thoughts. Who was he to defend you like this when he treated you the same way?

He was not your husband, whether or not the Fates tied your strings together, whether or not Zeus had assured him that you were happy to be with him. He had witnessed the marriages of his siblings and their respective significant others. The Olympians were famous for their affairs, demigod children, and stupidity. He had promised himself that he wouldn’t end up like that, or force his significant other to love him. No, that would be your decision and your decision only. But the moment you step into the Underworld, there was a rule that applied to everyone except himself and Thanatos. No one could leave.

“..Goodbye Demeter.”

Seokjin kept his head down and vanished with only a black smoke left behind in his wake. Demeter folded her arms and tapped her foot impatiently.

“You’ll regret this, God of Death. Mark my words, she is not yours.”

Seokjin appeared in the middle of Demeter’s palace, somewhere completely different to where he was aiming. He should work on his powers.

What type of god (a bumbling idiot for sure) couldn’t even control his powers? He wasn’t a few eons on for Styx sake! But he definitely acted like a blushing teenager when around you— again, another thing he sincerely had to work on.

He looked around the white, marble balcony he was standing in. He could feel you. But you weren’t here…right? Where was he? He willed himself to shadow travel again and landed in the middle of a town. If he could still call it that.

It was destroyed.

By war, famine, or a plague, even Seokjin would never know. It was barren, but he heard coughing in a few huts. The crops in the field nearby had dried up and the river that used to flow was only a trickle. He walked through the paths and found a family of two bundled together trying to fight off the cold— cold?

Now that he thought about it, it was freezing. There was frost on the ground. Usually the mortal realm was flourishing in either Spring or Summer but it was neither right now. What was this cold, soul-less feeling? Something was terribly wrong and Seokjin was sure Demeter should have fixed it back to Spring.

Was this her anger?

Seokjin shook his head in confusion. Obviously, Demeter was angry that her only daughter was taken from her. The thought made Hades nauseous, how would he fix this? Better question, shouldn’t Namjoon have said something in the meeting?

Seokjin’s ears burned red when he realized that they probably did. It’s just that he was too preoccupied by the thought of you and your enchanting eyes, and soft lips— oh shit, shit, shit. Trying to snap out of it, Seokjin failed to hear the small footsteps of a child behind him.

Not that it should matter, mortals couldn’t see him. Right? The Fates were probably laughing at him, one of the Big Three yet he was dumber than a skeleton.

“Sir?”

Seokjin whipped his head around so fast that he was sure he heard a crack. But he was more focused and confused on the little child staring up at him in curious wonder. The kid had matted hair and a cloth dress that was barely thick enough to keep her from getting goosebumps on her arms. She was staring up at him but the dagger in her hand radiated power, but not just any power.

Godly power.

It flowed through the dagger into the surrounding air and Seokjin was sure that at this point there was no way this child wasn’t a monster or a god in disguise.

Her eyes suddenly rolled back and turned white. With her mouth open, she started to chant ancient Greek at a speed even Seokjin couldn’t keep up to, but he picked up one phrase.

Περσεφόνη νεκρός, άνοιξη νεκρός.

Everything clicked in his head just as the girl seemed to vanish.

Persephone is dead, Spring is dead.

Seokjin felt an electric shock in the middle of his back, intense heat, and then he doubled over from pain. He hadn’t experienced such scalding and burning feelings ever. His legs collapsed from under him and when he looked at his hand covering his midsection, he saw ichor, the golden blood of all immortal beings, covering his hand. He looked behind him to see the young, mortal girl.

“Demeter.”

The young girl transformed into the goddess in an instant and the dagger in her hand was coated with ichor. Looking at it made him queasy— ironic because he’s the god of the dead and he’s getting nauseous from blood. Poseidon and Zeus would surely laugh at his deplorable state if they ever saw him. But Seokjin was still more concerned about why Demeter had stabbed him.

Demeter may have been angry but not enough to kill— even she had principles. But, nonetheless impressive, he’ll give her that. But the pain was making him see black flecks in his vision— poison perhaps. It made him more worried than he should be.

“You were foolish to think that I would let you get away with this. Truly, is there anything in that head of yours?”

“You— why? I didn’t take her on purpose!”

“LIES, you men are all the same! But, don’t you like my little toy? It’s wonderful, truly. Hephaestus must’ve pitied me, not that I care as he has his own problems with Aphrodite and Ares, but he made a weapon that even a God could get hurt from. Zeus said I had one chance, but judging by the fact he lied to me, I don’t care. Now, this. THIS is for Persephone. DO NOT FORGET IT.”

With that, Demeter stabbed Hades in the same wound and Seokjin yelled out. The tip of the blade sank deeper and Demeter twisted it to make sure the blade touched every part of his wound. She jerked it out only to push it further, making Seokjin choke and roar in agonizing pain. Demeter saw the ichor flowing freely out of the wound and stepped back. She disappeared into the night, leaving Seokjin alone. He had one thought in his mind while the pain took all energy out of him to do anything else.

Y/N

His form was gone with a flash and all that was left of his presence was the pool of ichor on the ground. Even that faded into the ground.

“Styx! Hades, Hades, stay awake!” You screamed while trying to see how to pull out the dagger that was inches deep in his back.

His breathing had slowed down and your hands were frantically trying to keep him up. The bedroom was way too far so you would have to set him down on the floor. Trying to be careful, you made him lean on you and sit on the floor. His head was on your chest and his eyes were closed. There was a bit of gold on his lips and you were getting increasingly worried.

You looked around, “Shit, this is bad. Thanatos! How did this..” You tried not to shuffle Hades around but your arms were weak with worry.

Thanatos immediately appeared in front of you at your request and the scene made him startled. His hands were shaking and he didn’t understand what was happening. The words you were saying were muffled and his eyes were blurred. He could only look at the deep gash and the skin cut around it, a horrible shade of green.

“Thanatos! Pay attention. I need you to stay calm and get me some bandages, okay? Can you do that?” Your voice was shaking but you tried to keep it level.

His head nodded slightly and he instantly disappeared. He’d have to find mortal supplies because there was no reason to keep medical supplies in a palace for a god. Something was very wrong. Gods couldn’t die, right?

“Okay, okay Y/N. You got this, just put pressure on the wound and seal it shut. Okay, how hard could this be?” You reassured yourself in frustration, you were scared beyond belief.

You hesitantly put your hands on the dagger’s handle and when you touched it, a blood curdling scream left Seokjin’s mouth.

His breathing was getting shorter and faster, but he was still awake. You had nurtured a squirrel back to life after it fell down a tree but that was basically all the experience you had with medical equipment. You reasoned that until Thanatos brought back bandages, you wouldn’t be able to securely stitch up his back wound. A thought entered your mind, Why are you helping him?, but you shook it off as soon as you thought about it. It didn’t matter, Hades didn’t deserve to die.

“O-okay Hades, I’m gonna need you to stay calm. Okay? I’m flipping you on to your stomach, just keep talking to me okay?”

“I.. okay. I’ll keep talking..”

“Good, that’s good. You’re doing great.”

“You can call me Jin, you know.”

“Oh alright, Jin. You can call me Y/N, just keep talking.”

You slowly put your hands on his chest, trying to ignore how your left shoulder was numb from his weight, and slowly focused on the dagger in front of you. You could see the wound was ghastly. Green and gold colors mixed, as if it was poisoned. Poison. You hoped you would be able to save him. The ichor had finally clotted on the dagger, but the green foam seemed to keep stopping Jin’s body from regenerating. You remembered when you fell once and got a scratch, it instantly healed.

“Shit, shit, shit. This i-isn’t working. I-I need to—“

Jin frowned, “It’s okay Y/N. Don’t…worry. I’ll be fine.”

“You’re not healing, you are not fine!” You insisted. “I wish I had my powers, then I could do something. Ugh, this is so stupid.”

Jin paused, thinking over your words. “They don’t work here? That’s odd. My palace..should let you have everything.”

You huffed. “Uh-huh, you’re telling me. Look, just…don’t die, alright? We’ve barely met and I’d like to be friends.. again.”

“Did..Thanatos tell you that we were friends?”

“..No, I remembered it on my own obviously. It’s not like it’s been eons since then.”

“Y/N,” Jin’s clammy hand found your open one. “You’re really…something.”

You grimaced when he squeezed your hand from the pain. You were pleasantly surprised with how this conversation was turning out, it didn’t seem too forced. But it was almost like the Fates were tricking you again. Probably laughing at your naivety and hope.

Jin groaned and particularly squeezed your hand tighter, making you yelp in surprise. He apologized softly but even you could see that the poison was seeping through his shirt more and making it lighter somehow— possibly from the golden color of his blood.

You’re losing time, and Jin is not getting better. You really don’t want him to die, and you’re not really sure why either.

What has Jin done for you? He’s taken you away from your home, forced you to live in his palace, and for what? To be his ever loving, loyal, and submissive trophy wife?

Whispers in your mind keep telling you, don’t care! But you can’t. You can’t just leave him here, hurt and poisoned. You won’t.

Maybe that’s your fatal flaw. Helping everyone without actually considering if they deserve it. Maybe your mother was right, you aren’t ready for this world. But it didn’t matter. Jin needed your help, and you were going to help him. Somehow.

Looking down at Jin’s body, he was still breathing but definitely labored. You didn’t know how to help him other than try to put pressure on the wound. Recounting words from a friend, you decided that a certain god might be able to help you.

“Oh Apollo, God of Immeasurable Light, the Healer of Sickness and Diseases. Please, I ask you to heal Hades for he has done no wrong where this poison should have befallen him. Please, listen to my prayer.”

Kore, daughter of Demeter and Goddess of the Spring, flora, and fauna. You ask for too much. What has happened to Hades is of his own doing.

“Who has he hurt? Let him live and I will see to it that they are reimbursed for his sins.”

Oh, Y/N. You do not understand. He has hurt someone that is insatiable. What they want will never be allowed for.

“Who? Who has he hurt? Surely I can convince them?”

You will do it? For his life? What has he done that makes you compelled so? Saving his life is not simple. My powers may not curse you but you will be eternally bound to your duty after he has been healed.

“Do not ask a question that is none of your business. I shall complete your task when he has fully healed. Now, heal him!”

Alright. But do not beg me to undo this.

You didn’t think about what would happen to you. Hoseok was usually kind and the task would not be so heartless. You’re sure he was only being so formal because of pleasantries..right?

As you questioned your intentions, you saw that the green foam was becoming concentrated into a glass-like orb. It was the potent poison that the blade had been coated with. You carefully took it in your hand and stuffed it in one of the pockets of your dress.

Lifting Jin so that his face was facing you, you realized he was unconscious, probably from the pain. His eyebrows furrowed, and lips in a thin line made you think of how much stress he was in. But a more pressing matter plagued your mind.

Who did this to him?

After asking Thanatos for help, the two of you were able to lift Jin into his bed and let him rest there. The entire time Seokjin couldn’t bear to remove his hand from yours and you could practically see Thanatos’s eyebrows moving up and down in a suggestive manner. That god was basically a man-child at this point.

“So, what do we do?”

“We have to wait, Y/N. There’s not much else we can do.”

“Right, right..He’ll be fine, right? Like nothing will happen to him that bad, right? Maybe I should try praying to Apollo again, yeah—“

Thanatos put a hand on your shoulder to stop your rambling and look up at him. His eyes tried to tell you to stop but you could see the pity in it.

“Y/N. It’ll be okay. You did the right thing by praying to Apollo. You should probably be more worried about yourself and what duty you have to follow than Hades. Hades is the God of the Dead, he’ll be fine.”

Your heart twisted and you could feel your hands becoming clammy. You wondered why you kept feeling so anxious, hoping that it would go away if you walked around or something. You didn’t like the antsy feeling, wanting to get rid of it by all means. The duty Apollo had asked of you didn’t even register when you were praying, you just were too preoccupied with Hades almost dying.

“Right, right..But maybe I should stay here? To make sure he’s okay?”

“..It’s your choice, but don’t let it overtake you. I can’t help both of you if you collapse from exhaustion.”

“Haha, yeah..”

Thanatos disappeared quickly after, saying he had some work to do. Taking a seat, you brushed a piece of hair out of Jin’s face while trying not to disturb him in his sleep. His left hand was still holding onto yours, not letting go anytime soon. Gently trailing over his knuckles in an effort to soothe yourself and hopefully Jin, you started thinking about your stay here.

It was shit. You had been taken from your home, the Fates had told you that you got married to the God of the Underworld, who apparently was one of your oldest friends, you were stuck in a really dark palace, and now your spouse is resting in bed from almost dying. And you’re indebted to Apollo.

Great!

Swarmed with less than kind thoughts about Seokjin and how you managed to get here, you didn’t take notice of him stirring until his hand squeezed yours slightly, “Hey sleepy head..”

He blinked lethargically, raising his right hand to stretch,“..How.. how long was I out?”

“Not long, just a few hours at most. Are you feeling any better? Need anything?”

“No.. Um, why are you helping me?”

You paused, so maybe the thoughts that plagued your mind weren’t just in your head. Not knowing how to answer— because you had been beating yourself about it too— you shrugged your shoulders.

“You don’t deserve to die, no one does. The person who stabbed you.. should watch their back. I’ll personally give them the worst harvest for the rest of their life.”

Jin laughed abruptly but the pain in his chest didn’t subside, making him cough. You lifted him up more and patted him to try to calm him down, which worked for a while. The tips of his mouth were upturned, as if he didn’t just almost die, and his ears were turning red.

“I don’t understand you, Y/N and I don’t think I ever will.”

“No problem but you got to answer me this, what in the everliving Styx happened?”

Jin’s happy expression dropped for a second and you thought it was your imagination but you could feel that the atmosphere had changed quickly.

“..Humans have been starving recently, I was afraid to tell you because you have such a close connection to them.”

“So it’s not a war, like Thanatos told me?”

“…”

You sighed a shaky breath, as this majorly concerned you. Your mother was very strict in making sure everything in Spring was correctly taken care of and nothing was out of place. If it had become so bad where people were starving, well something was wrong. War wasn’t exactly starving people, sure it could lead to less food and things but the real problem here was why everyone kept hesitating to tell why this was happening. Was Zeus mad? Was Apollo mad? Who the fuck was mad to make the mortal world so bad?

“So..you’re not going to tell me who started this?”

Instead of fidgeting with your hands, you fully sat down on the bed. You looked at the bandages on his back and decided to redo them because they had already soaked through. Carefully unwrapping the bandages, you tried not to fluster at how close you had to be to unwrap the from around his body. While rewrapping the cloth and your hands were basically hugging his torso at one point to get them all the way, Jin gently put his hand on yours.

You stopped, suddenly too aware of how you were almost cuddling Jin and how he was soothingly rubbing your hands. You could already feel your face getting hot and you desperately tried to think of anything except his hard chest or his broad shoulder you kept brushing over.

“No..no, I can’t..”

You tried not to let his words have too much of an effect on you, it’s not like he couldn’t have some privacy from you. But this was different, his life was on the line a few hours ago. You hoped you would be able to persuade him later. Right now, you had a bigger responsibility to take care of. You tightened the bandages on his torso, causing him to yell in pain.

“HEY! What was that for?!”

“You’re not.. very nice, you know that?”

The moment you said the words, your entire body sagged and Jin could feel your hands slowly pulling away. But he didn’t want to let go, they were much too comforting, much too soft for him to let go of them. Jin tried to speak but your response cut him from doing so.

“Whatever, just go to sleep Jin!”

Jin heard the crack in your voice and got ashamed of himself for not being able to answer you. He didn’t want his relationship with you to be any more strained and telling you that your mom almost killed him would definitely screw it up. While your hands had stopped and your head was down, Jin slowly turned around so he could face you. You were so preoccupied with what he had said that you didn’t realize he was facing you until he cupped your cheeks.

Your eyes were glistening a little bit, which made Jin’s entire body soften and feel helpless, but you didn’t even know why. This didn’t even happen with your mother yet when Jin was hesitant to say who hurt him, you naturally started to feel sad and uncomfortable. A few tears started to fall down and Jin softened even more, wanting to try and help you or comfort you in some way. He brushed his thumb over your cheek to get rid of the tears and you closed your eyes at the movement.

“Why can’t you just tell me? Weren’t we friends once? I’m not that kid okay! I can handle it, I’m a lot stronger than I look.”

Jin’s heart breaks at your questions and he can’t even explain how the string in his heart starts to feel strained— you feel it in your own too. Taking his hands off your cheeks and holding yours, he swiftly puts a kiss to your forehead before you can even realize. It was soft but it burned into your memory. You could feel his eyes on you but the kiss was quick and yet your cheeks felt like they were on fire from the sweet gesture. If Jimin had done it, you wouldn’t have felt anything but now that Jin did it, you definitely were feeling something.

“I want to, I do! You’re not that kid anymore, you’ve definitely grown up. But, it’s complicated and you really wouldn’t believe me.”

While you were still reeling at the revelation that Jin kissed your forehead, the god in question started feeling immensely proud of how he was making you flustered. It was a much more welcomed look than you in tears, that sight would always hurt him. He smiled lightly at your shocked expression before feeling extremely drowsy from all the events.

“..I see, alright then. Tell me when we’re better friends.”

God, they’re really cute. I wonder if..

Taking another risk, Jin settled his head into your lap and you almost stopped breathing.

Never thought I’d say this but my husband is going to be the death of me.

“It’ll take a while but I will. Eventually.”

After that day, the two of you kept getting closer to each other. Whether that be when you woke up and saw that he had draped a blanket over you. Or when you found his office room, after a long time trying, and pushed his hair out of his face when you saw him trying to take a nap. You also helped redress his bandages because they seemed to wrinkle more often than usual; believing that Jin had something to do with it, you didn’t bring the question up.

Why would you not want to see your husband shirtless?

He even had another throne built for you beside his own, decorated with lighter colors which had made you laugh as it stood out so much in the dark room. The two of you would eat together in a dining room you didn’t even know existed. There were two big chairs on either side, but the table was so long so you opted to move it closer to him. Seokjin tried to play it off as if he was cool about it but on the inside he was screaming about how sweet the gesture was. At one point you even had the idea of making rings for each other. Seokjin was also the God of Wealth—since jewels are created underground— and so had an advantage, making two gold rings. While you tore a small piece of cloth of your green dress to make two cloth rings. Each of you wore both a gold and a cloth ring, symbolic for the friendship (and later love) you shared.

Once, he even showed you a large library, full of books about, death for sure but many others about adventures, myths, romances, fantasy, and some new ones about (F/G). You spent most of your time going between the bookshelves trying to find something to expand your knowledge on godly powers. For some practice with your own, you had asked Jin to get some seeds or plants down to the palace. But, the moment he did, they were instantly killed and even then, your powers couldn’t revive them.

“This is so useless!” You groaned for the umpteenth time, “How is it that my powers just disappear?”

Jin looked at you and hummed in solidarity, “I’m not sure, I’ll check the library for some books about godly powers and um, maybe Demeter..”

At the mention of your mother, you stiffened but forced yourself to loosen your limbs. You shook your head from the intrusive thoughts and nodded towards Jin, allowing him to lead the way to the library as you thought about what your mother had taught you about your powers.

They are an extension of yourself, Kore. If you’re uncomfortable, it’ll become jagged and out of control.

Jagged and out of control was certainly the emotions and atmosphere you had when you came into Hades’s palace.

You have to control your powers just like you are able to control your emotions.

Your environment is important. Olympus is not a place where your powers can work because Spring does not touch it. Only the mortal realm does.

Maybe the Underworld wouldn’t let you have powers either.

Be careful! When you get upset, those plants can grow thorns rather than flowers.

“Are you alright? You seem..disturbed.”

“Disturbed?” You came back to the present and raised your eyebrow as if the adjective Jin said was the most illogical word, “I’m fine, just a little confused.”

“Fair enough, but I think I know what book you need.”

You looked at the seemingly never ending shelves and rows of bookcases. The books in here defied time; there were section of ‘past’ books which were finished, ‘present’ books which added a new page and words every time the author wrote in real time, and ‘future’ books which had books with blank pages without titles but the date they would be finished was already printed on the cover. It was magnificent, you could find any book and read it as it was being written, and if you cracked the intense magic that protected the books, you could even read the literature that hadn’t even been written yet.

“Which?”

Jin sighed, running his fingers through his hair and taking one look at the library before fixing on you, “It’s in the past section which is good but the title escapes me, probably having something about godly power or an index of their abilities.”

“Who wrote that?”

“Athena, she’s a bit too enthusiastic when it comes to things like this.”

“..Did you just call Athena, the Goddess of Wisdom, a nerd?”

“Well-I mean..am I wrong?”

You laughed loudly, echoing across the long walls and between shelves. Your head tipped back and your arms hugged yourself to keep your frame from shaking. Jin’s ears turned red with embarrassment, for he had no idea why you were laughing so much. To be honest, you couldn’t either. It was just so funny that one of the most formal of gods talked so normally, a happy accident truly.

“It’s alright,” You were still giggled a little bit and by this time Jin was chuckling too, “Let’s go find this book. Split up?”

Jin nodded and went to the right part of the ‘past’ section while you headed over to the left. The two of you looked at the titles of each book but none of the key words or phrases in them matched. The search seemed useless.

Seokjin couldn’t find anything in his section, and even after having several ghost servants to help him— Thanatos showed up for a few minutes too— there was nothing to be found. Deciding that working together or at least being in the same company as you would be more beneficial then the current strategy, he headed to you.

You weren’t having any luck either, but hearing footsteps, your mood turned for the better. After spending some time with your husband, you had realized he had a lot of endearing qualities to him. He always took care of you when you were missing home, opting to bring fake flowers, like the silver one from your first day here, that wouldn’t die but would remind you of your home back in the mortal realm. They were delicate all the same, but you liked holding them and imagining yourself back in those fields.

You missed it, a lot. You missed your mother even more.

But you couldn’t deny that Jin’s company wasn’t delightful. He never made you do anything or feel afraid, his presence was calming and when you were together, the string in your hearts felt connected and alive. The two of you were unfortunately way too shy to admit it but, there was definitely some sort of love between you two. The way your heart soared when looking at each other or laughing at the most unfunny jokes. You hadn’t missed the red ears he had when you complimented him and he definitely didn’t miss your stuttering when he called you loving names in front of his servants or the inevitable mortal or “hero” who wanted something from Jin.

Since gods were not permitted to directly help mortals, often blessed or favored mortals called heroes emerged. They were given unimaginable powers and strength to fight off evil monsters or save villages. Once a man endowed with superhuman musical skills came to the two of you, asking for help. His singing moved the ghost servants and the gray horses that were outside the palace. The two of you were no match either.

“Oh God who rules the dark and silent Underworld,” The man sang with his lyre, tears in his eyes, “I beg you to help me. All lovely things at last go down to you. But I seek one who came to you too soon. The bud was plucked before the flower bloomed. I tried to bear my loss. I could not bear it.”

Seokjin knew that Orpheus was seeking out his wife, Eurydice, and the prominent aspects of love in the song tightened the string in his heart. While Orpheus sang for his dead wife’s revival, he glanced at your face and the refusal suddenly got stuck in his throat.

You looked longingly at Orpheus as his song for Eurydice’s freedom made you feel drowsy and heartbroken. Here was a newlywed couple, both full of joy that they could marry the person of their dreams, but then disaster struck. The woman had unfortunately died on their wedding day and here was her husband, traveling fearlessly through the depths of hell to beg for her back— all for love. A few tears escaped your eyes as the desire to resonate with the man was so strong. You wanted to feel as loved as Eurydice did, wanted someone to love you as strong as Orpheus did for her. Did Hades even know what love meant?

Seokjin could feel your pain, the string that connected your hearts often shared those strong emotions. He liked sharing the happy ones, when you were laughing at something he said or smiling brightly because of his cheesy and old fashioned jokes. Not because you didn’t feel loved. It was breaking his heart to know that you wanted to feel this love and despite his own insecurities of being unlovable, he promised himself that he would love you fully. He would love you as much and more than Orpheus loved his wife, and even more than that. Seokjin felt so heartbroken that you didn’t feel loved already and made it his mission to show you just how much he cared.

“My love is too strong. So I beg of you, King of the Dead,” Orpheus was on his knees and looked at only Jin, “Help me so that I may hold my Eurydice!”

Seokjin raised his eyebrows by the blatant disrespect that Orpheus showed by ignoring you completely. You most likely did not notice it but the clear distinction the man had from you and him was a glaring red flag. But Seokjin could also sense that you were too swept up with the song that you would want to see the couple reunited despite the rudeness.

You put your hands on the hand-rests of your throne to lift yourself up when Seokjin put his hand on yours to stop you. Setting yourself back down, you looked in confusion up to him whose eyes did not stray from the man in front of him. Although Orpheus’s story was tragic, he had heard of many before. As the overseer of the Underworld, his heart had to be hard as steel, and so it was— until you of course. You had softened him by doing practically nothing, but the thought of you continued to melt him. Many mortals had approached Hades to beg for loved ones back and all requests were always refused. No doubt, Orpheus' music was sweet and very moving, but the look in your eyes and tears that dropped down your cheeks were much more convincing; anything to see his wife happy.

Seokjin slowly rubbed your knuckles before finally answering Orpheus, “Your music is ever so moving, but you must know that many couples have begged for their lovers before. I have refused all.”

At the statement, you had gasped and swerved your head to your husband trying to comprehend how someone could refuse so many heartbroken lovers. Orpheus is distraught and close to sobbing harder, dropping his lyre to the ground. But ignoring it all, Seokjin gently chuckles at your expression and strokes your cheek.

“However..” Seokjin starts with a twinkle in his eye.

Furrowing your eyebrows, you ask, “However?”

“To my right side is Persephone, Goddess of the Spring, flora, and fauna. She is my equal, my other half, and the love of my life. Her presence moves me to help you more than your music. For that, I shall grant you your wish of seeing Eurydice again.”

There is that familiar blush Seokjin has witnessed almost everyday, that adorns your cheeks again. Your eyes bulged out at his words and you couldn’t help but lean over to his throne and kiss his cheek in appreciation. He snickers lightly but in reality, his heart almost beat out of his chest. He’s as smitten with you as you are with him. A loveless King had turned sweet for his Queen.

But Orpheus does not seem to care for the intimate words between the two of you. For he seems angry, possibly envious of the love you two share, and resentful that his music that could move rocks on every hillside and turn the course of all rivers was nothing compared to what you could do. The loving look you two shared made him more furious that Eurydice was not beside him at the very instant. Unfortunately, having such wonderful musical abilities often followed with instant compliments and help. For that praise to be lacking from the Gods hurt Orpheus’s pride, and would eventually lead to his demise.

Orpheus snatched his lyre from the floor and said, “My music.. did not move you? I am appalled.”

You tilt your head in confusion, still with a smile on your face you turn to face the man. Seokjin looks at you when you ask, “Appalled? What for?”

“How has a whore been able to influence you, my King?”

At the comment, your smile falters and you see Jin’s eyes light up with the purple fire you saw when you met him. But instead of being a warm, welcoming and even comforting flame, it is chaotic, burning, and seething. He doesn’t need to see your face to see the crestfallen look, but instead whirled around to walk towards Orpheus. Jin’s anger was immeasurable and Orpheus was alarmed at how his eyes seem to flicker brighter with every passing moment. Glowering down at the man, the god was Hades, not the Jin you were used to. His eyes flashed and Orpheus saw every moment in his life up to then and what looked like an older version of himself. Only later would he realize that the God of the Dead had shown him his life in only a few flashes to humble him of his worth and his insignificance.

Realizing that the man may be scorched by your husband’s anger alone, you gracefully walked up to them. Your presence eased Orpheus’s mind for a split second before his eyes flickered back to Jin’s, it was obvious that Jin would not back down. Showing disrespect to you would result in nothing less than banishment to the Mourning Fields of unrequited love for the rest of eternity, or even a trip to Tartarus, the deepest abyss known to all deities.

But he really should have paid more attention to the scowl on your lips.

You spoke with a steely, calm tone, but it reeked of annoyance, “Who are you, a trivial, fleeting thought for me, a Goddess? You are nothing. Mind your tongue and consider yourself lucky that I do not turn you into a corn plant right here.”

After summoning Eurydice with a wave of your hand, you continued, “As you ascend, do not look back as she follows you. Like the explicit disrespect you showed me today, I will take Eurydice away from you.You will lead a desolate and lonely life, as your music will never be heard again.”

Without waiting for a response, you sent the two on your way and sat back down on your throne. Jin sat next to you in utter disbelief and awe of how you commanded respect in the room. He would tease you about it later but it truly showed you how the two of you were so interconnected with one another. Many other challengers would come to try their luck with the softened God, but he didn’t accept all of them— only the ones that you also approved of.

“Hey,” Seokjin started and you only just noticed how dangerously close he was to your face, “Is everything okay? You zoned out for a while.”

Coming back to the present, you realized that you were still in the library trying to find a book to help you with your powers. You had opened one that was clearly not what you were looking for, as the title had something related to (F/G) instead of godly powers. Snapping the book abruptly shut, dust swept up into the air and you coughed up a bit. Seokjin leaned away while you put the book back into its rightful place and tried to clear the air.

You sighed, “I haven’t been able to find anything even remotely related to what we were searching for.”

“It’s alright,” Jin said as he placed a hand on your shoulder in comfort, “I haven’t either. Maybe we should look for a book about you specifically.”

“Me? You think I would be in a book?”

“Well, you are the Goddess of Spring.” He chuckled and patted your head, “Pretty sure that’s important, baby.”

“Did you just call me..?”

“Shit, I didn’t know if nicknames were okay. Are they okay? I’m guessing they’re not okay? Are you not okay with them? Can I call you something else? Should I just stick to Y/N? Or Persephone? Wait, what about Kore? Or is that only reserved—”

You stopped his rambling by grabbing his hand and interlocking them. Looking up to gauge his reaction, you were pleasantly surprised to see that his mouth was upturned and he tried to turn away from your gaze.

“It’s perfectly fine, my love.” With your term of endearment, Jin groaned and shook his head, “Now what should we do next?”

“I call you something cute like baby and you call me my love? Are you trying to open up my wounds?”

“I’m sure your heart will stay intact, what you should be more worried about is your lips!”

“..My lips?!”

You giggled at his star struck expression before you realized that you may have come of as too strong. Deep in thought, you caress his hand with your thumb before grabbing the black feather necklace he’s always worn. It takes Seokjin by surprise and he leans towards you, his face only a few inches from touching yours. His eyes flicker to your lips then back to your eyes and your smile slowly relaxes. He subconsciously licks his lips, and you were so close to just capturing them but you think again.

Did he want you as much as you did?

Seokjin could cut the tension with a knife, and he was going crazy not being able to kiss your lips. He internally groaned because his shy side was poking at him to run away and hide in a corner while the confident side of him wanted to do nothing but kiss you.

God he wanted you, he hoped you did too.

“Can I kiss you, Jin?”

“Please do, you’re going to kill me if you don’t.”

“I think I’ll kill you either way, I’m a pretty good kisser.”

His eyes fluttered closed, and then your lips were on his. Unlike you had imagined— because yes, you had been dreaming for this for a while— he tasted like nothing but everything at the same time. Fireworks and bursts of warmth burned in your hearts and the string in your chest seemed to tie with Jin’s. Your arms wrapped around his neck and he gripped your waist, the both of you wanted to get as close as possible. You let go of each other eventually, and could only stare at each other in awe of what you had done. Glancing at his ears, you immediately grinned seeing them completely red and his flushed expression. Not that you were doing any better, the color tint on your lips was smudged and your chest heaved as you tried to catch your breath. It may have been your first kiss but it definitely would not be your last.

You eventually found the book you were looking for in the first place and Jin would help you control your powers until you could blossom flowers and fruits from the dead seeds he brought when he would go back up. It was a team effort and it definitely earned you some kisses whenever you were successful.

Almost six months had passed since your arrival in the Underworld. After Hades was poisoned, he did not show up to the meetings in Olympus, believing that he knew he was not welcome. Nor would he be able to clearly face Demeter, his mother-in-law, and not absolutely go ballistic. The love for his wife had increased one hundred fold since the last time he saw Demeter and any type of insult to how he cared for her daughter would surely set the deadly side of him off.

But many things happened in the mortal realm. Orpheus looked back at his wife just as the two were leaving the Underworld, and he would live in eternal sadness without his other half. The rest of the mortal realm was not faring well either. While the two newlywed Gods were happy, things like famine, drought, and death plagued mortals. Spring had not come, but was replaced with a harsh, cold winter. Diseases and frostbite was common since Demeter had no intention of changing the season until her daughter was back at her side. Since Hades was not the bringer of Death (Thanatos was), his job was maintaining a record of who died, was alive, and where they would spend their rest of their lives in.

The Fields of Punishment for eternal torture or The Fields of Elysium for rebirth?

The paperwork was clogging up as Hades had renounced his duty and was so lost in his love for his wife, that he only tended to his wife’s needs and taught their three-headed dog Cerberus how to fetch a bone of some unfortunate skeleton than anything else. At one point, your Seokjin had even gifted you a garden full of pomegranate trees, the only real plant that could successfully grow in the Underworld, to you as a sign of his love for you. You were overjoyed by the garden but he had warned you about something, but it all fell on deaf ears.

“You’re kidding..Jin!” You gasped, twirling around and noticing all the blossoming flowers and the vibrant colored plants in your garden.

“It’s for you,” Seokjin looked at you lovingly, seeing you so happy and bright made his heart and face glow too, “An entire garden of pomegranates for you. But be careful alright? They have powers that can make you stay here. So don’t eat them or then—”

“Mhmm.”

“You’ll stay here for that many months and I doubt that your mother—”

“Yeah, yeah, enough talk! Oooh, that one looks pretty.”

Seokjin’s face softened at your giddy expression and he couldn’t help but admire you from afar. But as he realized what your true intentions with the fruit were, he became worried.

“Y/N, wait! Don’t—”

Before Seokjin could finish his sentence, there you were, grabbing a pomegranate that split open with a gentle, magical prod by your finger. You took twelve seeds and threw them into your mouth with a smile on your face. Looking towards Seokjin, or at least where he was last, you saw that his eyes flamed with purple. He looked terrified.

Before you could even bite one of them, Jin was kissing you feverishly. His lips molded against yours and before you could blink, the gentle but insistent press of his hand on your waist made you part your mouth. He slipped his tongue past your own lips and while you were too distracted by the passion behind his actions, he had another thing to worry about. Finally when you parted, both of your lips were stained red with pomegranate juice and were breathing heavily.

Still reeling and drunk on his lips, you only barely noticed his frown and furrowed eyebrows. Jin licked his lips and you blinked slowly before wondering what he could possibly be thinking about. On your end, you definitely enjoyed that heated makeout session, and you were pretty sure his urgency was a good sign.

“Fuck, only got six seeds out,” Jin cursed, before looking at your satisfied expression, “You still ate the other six!”

“Uh, what?” You said lethargically, holding on to Jin’s arms to balance yourself.

“I tried to warn you that pomegranate seeds are dangerous, Y/N! If you had eaten all twelve of the seeds, you would have stayed in the Underworld for all twelve of the months in the year.”

Jin cupped your cheek and sighed, “I tried to kiss you to take them out but I only ate six so you still ate the other six. Now you’ll have to stay with me for half the year.”

“What? That doesn’t sound bad at all! I’m not regretting that kiss because, wow Jin you really know how to kiss someone, but I feel like I should have eaten all of them. What’s so wrong with being bound to you for all eternity?”

Everything, Jin wanted to say. But he could not get his lips to move for the breathless expression you had was too alluring. He stroked your cheek and wished that he could stay by your side but he knew that would not be good. While his ghost servants, Thanatos, and surely all the other Gods in Olympus believed that Seokjin had completely forgotten about his duties, he had not. He was too swept up with the thought of you to do anything about it but he knew that the mortal world was failing.

“It might be safer.”

“Bullshit! I would be much safer, here, with you.”

“I’m the God of the Dead, I doubt your mother wants a son-in-law like me.”

“And? She’s not married to you.”

“My kingdom, it stinks of death. You’ve lived all your life with the beauty of life, are you sure?”

“More than sure, my King. This kingdom is also mine.” You smirked, putting your hands on your hips, waiting for the next thing you would defend.

“The deaths that our love has caused? I’m sure Thanatos has slipped that by now.”

“He has! But what happens to mortals is not our fault, that’s someone else’s fault.”

He knew that. But he also knew that while he was in that poisoned, dying state, you had prayed to Apollo for help. Jin cursed himself for not being stronger so that you would not be indebted to the Hoseok, but he could not change the past. In his own time, Jin had asked Apollo for what you would have to do, and the answer made him scared beyond belief.

“She must go back home, that is her duty.”

“Home? Hoseok..”

“You and I both know that Demeter is mourning for Persephone. Without her daughter, she has put an eternal blanket of winter on the mortal lands. Even Hestia’s hearth in Olympus flickers away at times.”

“She won’t leave, Y/N will be suspicious of my intentions. She’s not some dumb deity that is oblivious to everything around her, she will ask why I am making her do this. I cannot do this.”

“Then lie to her. Tell Persephone that Demeter asks for her or that the mortal world is falling. Or better yet, betray her—”

“I cannot— no, I..I can’t.”

“Please, for the sake of Demeter and the sake of all mortals, force her back. If you must trick her into thinking you don’t..care for her— do it. Even Namjoon has tried convincing Demeter, she won’t budge.”

It was heartbreaking for him to know that Seokjin would have to hurt you like that. But he couldn’t allow himself to go against your duty and responsibility as the bringer of Spring and life. Your mother would not budge without seeing you, it was stated by the Fates too. Maybe if he betrayed you, then you would be safer and wouldn’t be with such a wretched god like himself.

Who was he kidding?

The God of the Dead with the Goddess of Life? It seemed like a cruel joke, especially because of how much he adored you.

Not wanting to worry you, Seokjin kissed your forehead and smiled as best he could. He realized that this might be the last time he could be honest with you, and so took off his black feather necklace and placed it on your neck. You grinned and pecked him on the lips.

“Maybe you’re right, Y/N.”

The Underworld had only one connection to the living world and that was by a boat ride on the River Styx with the reaper of souls. Unless you could play music, then you might be able to charm your way through like Orpheus, but even that was unlikely. In that sense, there are a few ways to get to the underworld but for a normal person, it was impossible.

But you were far from normal.

You were the Queen of the Underworld, Persephone or Y/N, alongside your king, Hades or Seokjin. It was nice having a title to yourself and not Kore, which was just ‘maiden’. It was yours and you loved it.

You couldn’t feel the sunshine on your face, the dewy breeze of a spring morning, the crisp droplets from a rainy night, nor anything else that you usually felt. Only the emptiness from the souls that were reaped, dying to be put back into the world above. But even that beautiful to you, the beauty of death often allured you. The dead stayed dead but even some of them were happy to leave their suffering above.

You wondered why your Jin had taken you for a walk around his palace, he hadn’t spoken a word to you the entire time either. Thinking it was just him being a little distant, you didn’t find anything weird. Seokjin wasn’t the most extroverted so instead of getting caught up with what his silence may have meant, you instead thought about the events that had happened in the last few months. Things had moved so fast, almost as if to compensate for your still life with your mother.

Originally, you had felt that she had done nothing but kept you inside like a prisoner but now you could clearly see why. The way Jin treated you was the biggest indication but you’ve realized your self-worth. You matter to both the mortal world and the Underworld, you’re a powerful Goddess, and you feel lucky that your first love was such a sweet, kind man. Mom wasn’t trying to force you into solitude, but she never trusted any of the Gods in Olympus and that’s why you didn’t even live up there anymore. It wasn’t like she forced you to stay home but the restrictions and ‘protection’ she gave was stifling.

You missed her so much. You missed the sunshine and you missed picking flowers and making flower crowns. You missed feeling the grass underneath your feet and how the Spring would hug your body.

You closed your eyes while taking a large breath in before opening them and smiling, anyone looking at you would have wondered in curiosity or more so horror. Who would smile in the Underworld?

You.

You would, for multiple reasons but mostly because it was more of a home that any place you had lived before. You looked at your bare feet and the black rocks beneath it. They were sharp unlike the grass above, but there was no pain due to the increase in your powers. Having always walked through fields and meadows, you were used to walking without any protection on your feet— though scorned and scolded by your mother.

“Jin, where are you taking me?” You asked at last, giggling a little but your patience running thin.

Seokjin did not answer nor did he move his head in your direction. He kept walking with longer strides, heading to the River Lethe. You had hated that river, a river to make those who touched it forget their memory. You had always expressed your disgust with the concept but Jin usually just laughed at the thought.

“You are the Queen of the Underworld, love.” He said, with a slight smirk on his face.

Jin cradled your chin and looked into your (E/C) eyes with a softness the other gods would’ve laughed and mocked. The god of the Underworld, your Hades, was happy and smiling with such adoration at your face that your cheeks started to heat up. You were a goddess but that didn’t prevent your heart from twisting when he said such sweet words.

He closed his eyes and touched your foreheads together, saying, “You shouldn’t be afraid of it, not when it’s yours.”

You smiled, closing your eyes and reaching out to hold his face in your hands. You weren’t afraid. As long as Jin was there with you.

You remembered the moments that you shared, when you’d be paranoid about your identity and your husband would reassure you that you did have a place in his— our world— he would say. That you were in the right place. A lot of things had happened in the past six months. But none of that could have prepared you for your husband’s next words.

“..You need to leave.”

“What? Seokjin, this isn’t the time to make jokes.”

“I’m serious, leave.”

Your heart pounded in your chest, you felt dizzy, as if the entire world was spinning. You couldn’t breathe for a moment, and then you took a shaky breath in before shaking your head in dismay, smiling to try and fight the large tears in your eyes.

But he continued, “This..isn’t right, your mother was right. We can’t be together.”

Your mother had warned you to not fall for such a man. Yet you had, for a man that you believed loved you back— no he loved you. A few tears rolled down your cheeks and you hurried to brush them away. You walked slowly towards your husband, your bare feet scraping against the dark rocks and your fern green dress trailed behind you.

You held out your hands in a comforting manner, trying to hold your beloved in your arms. In an instant, he shoved them away with his hand, his knuckles scraping against your arms. You winced but held your ground. “What are you saying? My mother was..right? Right about what?”

Jin’s resolve could have broken right there, but he stayed true to what he was told to do. He had to do this quick, or the tears in his eyes would fall and there would be no way to send you away. It hurt every fibre in his body to know that you were hurting because of him.

You looked up to try and find some sort of sign in Jin’s eyes, only to be met with dark purple ones— the very same that burned Orpheus only a few months ago. They looked empty yet were surrounded by that fire you hated.

“She told me this would never work out. And then poisoned me.”

You shook your head again, chuckling softly to yourself, trying to convince that this wasn’t true. You tried to speak confidently, but your voice started to shake after seeing his entire form move away from you.

“Do you truly think I’m so stupid to believe that lie? My mother may be overprotective of me and may have said this wouldn’t work out, but that doesn’t mean you should listen to her! And she would never hurt a God.”

At your words, Seokjin gets uncharacteristically angry at you, “She almost killed me and you defend her? Before me? When I have protected you—”

“Protected me from what?! Orpheus?! I am a Goddess, I do not need your protection!”

“You don’t need my protection?! Then leave! Stay with that mother of yours, even though we both know I’ve shown you more care than she ever will.”

He stated, turning his back to you and chucking the gold ring into the River Lethe. His ashy gray coat that covered his shoulders fell to the ground, at the feet of his dark robes. He didn’t even flinch, a tell-tale sign of him teasing or lying to you.

He wanted to forget you.

“Please,” You reasoned, “don’t send me away for such a stupid argument.”

“You’re right, I won’t be. You’ll leave on your own because you don’t belong here.”

Only then did you break into full sobs, you fell to the ground, clutching your heart in pain. This wet anger made you curse the Fates. Why did you have to be so weak in front of him?

You couldn’t believe it, the one man you had ever loved, threw you away. As if all the kind words, light kisses, and soft touches were worthless. He had lavished you with affection, even in front of disapproving others. From the day he unknowingly rescued you from a hell to now, he had always looked at you like you were his world.

You hadn’t said a word the night you had left with him, too much in shock with your future. But you couldn’t bare to let yourself ask him to take you back.

Anywhere was better than up there.

You had foolishly thought. And during that time you stayed with him. Fell in love. Thinking you would finally get a happy ending, one where the love of your life loved you back.

“Goodbye,” He stated, without looking back at you. All you could see was his tall figure in front of you before you disappeared. He was standing in front of your home. Or what you thought was. But home is where the heart is.

And yours was shattered.

He snapped his fingers and you were gone in a puff of dark black smoke. The feather on the black necklace that he once wore so diligently close to his chest, vanished with you. There was silence in his world for a few moments, after long months of happiness and joy. The flames in his eyes faded, for how could he be angry?

He had just screamed at the one he loved most.

“..Y/N.”

You didn’t see the tears that fell from his eyes without stopping, wetting his cheeks and the ground in front of him. You didn’t see how his shoulders shook with the thought of your absence. You didn’t see him scramble from his hunched position to the River Lethe. You didn’t see him dive in to try and find his ring and realize that it vanished. His legs started to burn from the river’s powers but he stayed in it, thinking that this was nothing to what he deserved. The green cloth ring that you had once put for him, kissing his hand and saying your vows with a happy voice, was still on his finger.

“I’ll stay with you, Seokjin, as long as you want me to. For you are my friend, my companion, and my truest love. I trust you.”

You didn’t see how broken he was when he came back to the palace only to collapse in front of your shared bed and scream until his throat went dry. You didn’t see that his heart was shattered too.

It wasn’t long until you made it back to the meadow, a small walk away from your mother’s palace in the mortal realm. It was dark, and you felt no sun on you. It was a different type of dark, rather than being ominous and mysterious, it held a type of serenity you weren’t ready for. But looking around, you felt empty.

The meadow was covered with some sort of cold, white fluff (snow, you would later find out) that pinched your toes. The once vibrant meadow, filled with plants of different colors and sizes, no longer welcomed you. The soft grass between your toes was now frozen ground and had grown into a long grass that reached your chest.

The world around you was imprisoned in a deafening silence, nothing was awake, nothing sang. The nightingales and woodpeckers were silent, there was nothing. It felt like the world above had stopped living the moment you left. Gashing winds had stripped the once bright green leaves from the trees, leaving them vulnerable and groaning from the cold.

You had never seen such coldness, felt such coldness.

Where am I?

The dark green dress you wore held up well, while the Underworld did not have as the biting cold as you experienced now, it was too similar for you to believe that you had really left there.

The stars twinkled sadly, as if crying out for someone. The moon waned brilliantly and yet everything felt dull. While this world seemed beautiful when you first entered, even though goosebumps had erupted on your limbs, it felt colder than you think it should have. The loneliness you felt was something you had never felt before, nor did you want to. The trees moved as if mourning and you felt like it was your death they were mourning.

Was this why people were dying..?

“..Kore?”

You turned around. Squinting to see the far-away figure, you realized it was your mother with her (H/C) hair in long locks, tumbling down her back— an unusual sight as she hated keeping her hair down— but she was hesitant to come to your side. She was looking at you differently, like she used to when you were a child. Not like how she pretended to when you got older but different. Better.

Like a mother should.

“Mom..” You whispered, but she heard it.

A flowing stream of tears started down Demeter’s face, and she made no move to wipe them away. Demeter held a hand out to her daughter, silently calling out to her. You slowly walked through the field to your mother’s side until finally putting her chin on her mother’s outstretched arm. As you saw your mother’s happy expression, you started to shakily smile and a few of her own tears started to drip down your cheek. Demeter stroked her daughter’s cheek and kissed your forehead in joy.

The mother and daughter were finally reunited.

Quickly after you reunited with your mother, she interlocked your hand and led you back to the palace. Your home. But even saying that had a sour taste in your mouth, because all you could remember was the dark walls and soft smiles of your husband. The walls of your room were just as blindingly white and clean and smooth as you remembered it. But, you remembered what you used to think in the Underworld. As much as you had loved it and the people who came with it, it wasn’t what you were used to. You loved the mortal realm much, much more, and finally seeing the lush vegetation wherever you walked, the pretty flowers sprinkled here and there, the ponds of clear water, and the countless species of animals was both a shock and a blessing.

A few days after you arrived, the winter and snow that had swept through the mortal realm was finally vanquished. Your mother held your hand and simply waved her hand, causing Spring to come back to the world. She was glowing, much more than before you left. You wanted to both strangle her and hug her.

You even asked her about the poisoned dagger and she confirmed what he had said, she did poison him. It made your stomach squeeze and feeling uncharacteristically angry and snappy, you conveyed your concerns to your mother, but she didn’t brush it off like you had feared.

“Mom, I won’t get mad if you tell me the truth.” You sighed out one night.

Demeter raised her eyebrows and laughed merrily, “Oh? This is new Kore, usually I would say that when you were younger!”

Your throat was feeling dry and scratchy but you pressed, “Heh, right, um. Did you.. poison him?”

“Don’t speak of that monster! I—”

“Whether you did or not, please answer me.”

Demeter looked at her only daughter. Her wonderfully talented, intelligent, witty, and beautiful daughter. She couldn’t imagine the emotional manipulation that she went through in the Underworld. Demeter wanted her daughter back and she was afraid of how you changed. That time when you were gone was over.

“Please, Mom.”

Your eyes pleaded and shined in the moonlight and even Demeter couldn’t hold back, “I didn’t have a choice. Even Zeus approved of it, but you have to realize that you were gone.” She poked your chest with your finger and you felt small, like a mouse in the presence of a hawk.

“I didn’t even know where you were and to learn that, the God of the Underworld had taken you..It wasn’t okay and I’m glad that you’re back. That’s all that matters now, don’t worry about it, okay? You’re safe.”

Demeter combed through your hair and smiled at you but her eyes didn’t crinkle up like usual and you knew that she wanted this conversation to be over. But you’d test her limits.

You continued, “But it could’ve killed him, Mom.”

“And?!”

Demeter didn’t miss the flinch at the raise of her tone and she instantly regretted her actions. She didn’t want to be like her siblings, loveless of their children and so enraptured by mortals. But at the same time, she wanted to protect you. Why couldn’t you see that she didn’t want someone like the God of the Dead, an emotional manipulator and kidnapper, to be any of your concern. It tore her heart in two.

“You are the most important part in my life, I used to only live for you. Obviously, that doesn’t mean your life should revolve around me but you were kidnapped!”

“It was Namjoon’s fault though, he told him that we wanted this.”

“You’re right, Zeus is just as punishable for this crime. But if he wanted your hand so much he could have easily come to us formally. Where was the need to capture you like that? None.”

But that wasn’t it either. Sure, you were upset that Seokjin had taken you away. Sure, that seemed logical from your mother’s perspective, realistic. But that’s not what happened. Namjoon was a drunk idiot and had told Seokjin a lie which caused all of this. But even with that figured out, you were still angry that you didn’t see the color black more often or you didn’t have a library full of books to read, or someone that would keep your head in their lap as you slept.

You missed him the most, and that’s why it hurt the most.

No, you repeat to yourself, You aren’t going to be caught down by someone you’ve only known for a few months. You’re better than this, Y/N.

So you busy yourself with other things that need your attention, like the new plants that are popping up in villages. It helps with the loneliness that seems to have taken you captive, even though your mother smothers you with affection. She wanted to celebrate the way you’ve finally come back to her, from that monster.

The new plants seem to have medicinal properties and you keep record of them in a small journal. In the same journal, you’ve been writing down your feelings as a way to cope with the environment changes. You’ve been liking the cool shade and swift breezes that come rather than the blinding sun that you were so used to. You often nestle between a few apricot trees, and would stare blankly at the fruit. It was so close to pomegranates but entirely different. The red color hurt and even the nymphs could see it, often asking you to pluck flowers with them far, far away.

Jimin visits you and the two of you spend an entire day in each other’s company. He talks about how he wasn’t able to visit you in the Underworld and missed you. You find comfort in his words and you confess that you miss Seokjin. Terribly. He’s the only person you have that won’t go to your mother and snitch on you.

“It hurts, Jimin. But I am afraid that you.. will not like what I have to say.”

“What does, Y/N? Don’t be afraid.”

“My heart..it misses him so much.”

Jimin had furrowed his eyebrows in confusion, he couldn’t understand why you would miss such a horrible God. He tried to comfort you about the matter, but it was stiff and rehearsed. When you had cried yourself to sleep that night, Jimin had quietly snuck out of your door only to see Demeter wiping her tears. Your mother had heard your pleas and she broke.

Why did you have to love such a disgusting monster?

Six months have passed and the world has been recovering. You don’t forget the black feather necklace on your neck and almost daily, you rub it to make sure it’s still with you. Your mother had asked what it was and Jimin had saved you before you could stutter out a response, saying he gifted it as nostalgia for being nicknamed pretty bird. Even the rings you had were considered a gift from other gods.

Demeter had looked at you in fear but hid her emotions well enough with a smile that you thought she wouldn’t ask again. She didn’t.

Seokjin couldn’t bear it anymore. Ever since you had left, his heart was heavy with the fact that he had pushed you away. Not even telling you anything and you just had to go.

Thanatos could see that his friend was drowning himself in his work, checking and double checking who were coming into the Underworld. Even Cerberus was ignoring Hades in fear of making him angrier. The dead souls rarely would see their king and while that usually did not worry many, those in Elysium were confused. Sometimes the two of you would visit their houses and get togethers, and even then they could make out his lovestruck expression whenever you talked. He looked at you like you were the moon, made of wonder and beauty, and had painted the stars in his world with small kisses.

Thanatos has gotten angry at Seokjin and forced him out of the palace, locking his office to be extra sure. Walking around aimlessly, everything in the palace reminded him of you. When you would walk next to him and talk about the most useless topics, it was the first time he noticed the sharp rocks on the floor. Instead of creating shoes or anything that a logical God would’ve done, he offered to let you get on his back while you walked. At your shocked expression, he was sure he embarrassed himself more than he thought was possible. But you quickly grinned and jumped onto his back while he held on tight to your legs to keep you steady.

At the memory, Seokjin smiled bitterly and scoffed at the tears that escaped. He wished he was stronger. You were probably going through something a hundred times worse, the love of your life just randomly banishing you must have hurt.

It was to protect her.

Either way, it made him curse out the Fates for even allowing him to meet you once. It wasn’t fair, for either of you. He even cursed his brother Namjoon, he would never listen to his brother again. It wasn’t fair.

The pomegranate trees in front of him made him stop. He wanted to break down in tears and throw his life away for what he had done to you. The brightest red fruit was on the lowest branch, but it was open. With twelve seeds missing, Seokjin shook with fear.

Six months was almost up.

You walked through the meadow, somehow leaving the safety of the nymphs that followed you on Demeter’s request, and brushing through the flowers. You twirled around, feeling free for once. Not in a palace, under someone’s watchful eye or endearing gaze. You loved both of them dearly, but it was hard for Kore, the Goddess of flora, and fauna to be expected to stay in the same place. You felt lost everywhere but here, with nature, was where you felt at peace. There was some substance in what your mother said. Nonetheless, your duty as Persephone, Goddess and Queen of the Underworld, stayed the same. You would have to leave soon, but that made your stomach twist and turn.

While preoccupied with your thoughts, you failed to notice the grass parting behind you. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw something long shoot through the field. You froze, knowing that it was too late to move and your body felt on edge, the feather on your neck started to heat up and become uncomfortable. Another quick movement and—

THUD!

Something grabbed your arms and the intense motion made your eyes squeeze shut. You were shaking, and spots danced behind your eyes. It took you a few moments to realize who had grabbed you, and now shielded, sporting an all-too familiar clothing color palette.

“..Jin,” You whispered breathlessly, “You’re here.”

Worlds away from each other, lifetimes away, or in different versions of reality, Seokjin heard your words as if it burned in his mind, clear as day, your presence bringing him back to life. You could only stare at him as he stroked your cheek, probably because there was some dirt on it because you had fallen asleep on the crumbling soil before walking around.

“I ask you to go away,” He starts calmly, looking at your dumbstruck expression “And you actually left, huh?”

Your growing smile for him saving you quickly falls and you roll your eyes with a hard frown on your lips. You push him away in annoyance and hurt, and walk away from him with your arms crossed. You tried to tamp down your irritation but you were fed up with Gods trying to take your life and just throw it around.

“Why,” You asked, seething with anger, “did you come here?”

You didn’t even turn around but with the way your fists were clenched, Seokjin knew that you were not feeling happy about his presence. Better than utter despair that he had thought of, you hitting and being angry at him was infinitely times better than you being sad.

“That snake wasn’t any ordinary one. I..” Seokjin said slowly, looking back at the dead reptile, “I was cursed by a God once that I wouldn’t be able to protect someone I loved from one of my own. And well, snakes are my sacred animal so..”

“So you think that I needed your protection again?”

Seokjin felt at odds with your response. Of course you could protect yourself, it was just his wish that you didn’t have to. That he could do so instead. He knew you were smarter than you let on, you knew exactly why he had sent you away and were angry why he couldn’t have just communicated it.

“I’m sorry,” He relented, putting a hand on your shoulder before you brush it off, “I was rude and disrespectful. You didn’t deserve that. I thought that you would leave and I was scared what would happen if you didn’t. The mortal world was dying—”

“So? I would’ve come up if you had just told me! It’s really not that hard,” You finally faced him, “especially when you’re supposed to be trying to be everything that my mother thinks you are, you shouldn’t have shouted.”

“Well.. you shouted too.”

“Yeah, to make sure I was heard over your voice!”

“I just wanted to protect you.”

Of course he was. Even when you had snapped at him, he was protecting you. Seokjin had promised you that he always would take care of you, and here he was, doing just that. The more you thought about the day you were forced to leave, you realized that Seokjin had tears in his eyes.

“I know but, there’s better ways to do it.��

Seokjin’s voice wavered with sadness, “I hope that you can forgive me for the stupid things I said. I promise I’ll work harder to show you that I deserve to be your partner and that I can take care of you.”

He was scared, afraid of your reaction and how you might refuse him outright. A figure in the distance, behind Jin, captures your attention and you’re thinking of them while Jin continues.

“I wanted to make your garden a little prettier,” He admitted, his thumb stroking your finger were both the golden ring and your makeshift cloth one was tied together, “I added flowers and different fruits that reminded me of your aura. But much of them are made of jewels since, well, you know, you can’t have live plants in the Underworld.”

“Mhmm, yeah.”

“And that ring I tossed into the River Lethe,” Your ears naturally perked up at the river’s mention, “was my ring and I found it just as soon as you left. I would never mean those things I said and I’m sorry you had to hear them.”

“Right, well,” Your eyes shined with excitement and giddy, “My mother is coming, so you better be able to convince her.” You quickly removed your hand from his before your mother burst in.

Oh shit.

“So you’re saying,” Demeter’s eyes burned into Seokjin and he could feel his mind turning to shreds at her words, “ you want my daughter to go back with you into that wretched palace?! She won’t return as long as I’m her mother and she has no obligation to leave. Kore will stay here.”

“Persephone is the Queen of the Underworld,” Seokjin looked at you tenderly, “it’s her duty now.”

You cringed at his wording, that was not the way to convince your mother. If anything, talking about duty would bring up the fact that she’s the Goddess of vegetation in the mortal realm. And mentioning her other name? Total loss.

“Do not defy my Hades. She will not leave my realm.”

You butted in, “I ate the pomegranate seeds, Mother.”

“You— what?” Her fiery anger dissipated into a tame flame, and her eyes glistened with unshed tears, “No, no. You,” She pointed straight to Seokjin, “You did this, didn’t you? Tricked her into eating the flirt of the Underworld to where she must leave me, her own mother for you? A lying cheat and disgusting, dishonorable coward!”

“I am no coward. I warned her and she said she wanted to,” He interlocked your hands and it made Demeter angrier, “She won’t be away for long. Only half of the year.”

“Half of the year?!” She moved towards Seokjin at a pace that even made him panic, “If you want my daughter’s hand, then propose to her properly. If she accepts, fine. She’s her own person and she had the right to choose her partner. But if she doesn’t, I will make sure your life is living hell.”

Kinda already is, Seokjin wanted to sarcastically comment but kept his mouth shut. But he reasoned that this was the best he was going to get. He turned to you and saw your wide smile and twinkling eyes. To him, you were the only person he needed. If he must, he would scourge the four realms and more to find you and even just hold your hand. With you, he had nothing to worry about.

So the two of you got “engaged” and you reapplied rings (different ones because your mother wanted you to have only the best) at the very place your mother met Seokjin. He summoned the most beautiful of jewels to make the rings and many other riches when he saw how Demeter’s eyes bulged and gravitated towards the power. She was warming up to him alright.

The night before you would leave, you held a celebration— the wedding— in a small gazebo that your friend Chan, or Hephaestus, happily built for you. He started crying in the middle of building it because his own partner, Yoongi or Aphrodite, seemed to have no interest in doing the same— but another story for another time!

Celebrating with your nymphs and other Olympian Gods and Goddesses that you had befriended long ago, it was a magical experience. You saw Jungkook, or Hera, and his husband Namjoon, or Zeus, arguing animatedly in the gazebo that you had proclaimed your love for each other earlier in the evening, something about how Namjoon never made any romantic gestures for him. In another place you saw Yoongi and Hoseok, or Apollo, sharing drinks with each other while Jimin, or Hermes, was flying around trying to meet everyone. Even Seokjin, basically the God of Shyness, was smiling and accepting praise from Irene, Wheein, and Taehyung, or Ares, Athena, and Hebe respectively.

You casually walked around, the rich purple wedding gown that you wore dragged through the grass but stayed dried, magical powers were always nice. Talking with some people, drinking and eating with others, it was wonderful. At the end of the night, Demeter came up to the two of you with flower crowns, and all the Gods watched with curiosity, except you and your mother of you knew what was to come next. The crowns were beautiful and matched your auras perfectly. One made with pink lilies, purple lavender, and white baby breath, while the other was made of cress, ferns, black and purple roses. The lighter one was for you and the darker for Seokjin.

“It’s tradition,” Demeter’s voice wavered with sadness and her hands trembled as she continued, “When a nymph is married and leaves my care, she is given a crown to remind her roots and to be happy in her new life.”

Demeter turned to you, the tears in her eyes finally came pouring out and she tried her best to allow this day to be a happy day. You looked ethereal in your dress and your expression made everything she had sacrificed worth it. Cupping your cheeks, she lovingly gazed at you and put your heads together. Your own tears were coming down and you held back a sob.

“Be powerful and strong, my Kore. If anything happens, I will always be waiting here for you and you can come back, alright? It is your duty in the next six months to take care of the Underworld, rule it with a wise mind and even sharper mouth. Many will test you but prove them wrong. Your husband’s duty is to take care of you, you are equals in love. Never forget my teachings and that I have and will always love you.”

You kneeled down to your mother and touched her feet in a sign of respect, and she crowned you with all the flowers you loved most. Standing up, you saw Demeter’s eyes stare at your husband. She looked neither happy nor angry, and everyone in the room held their breath.

“It is your duty,” She started as she firmly grasped the other crown, “to protect and take care of my daughter. She rules beside you as equals and you must treat her as such. When you are troubled, find peace in the fact that she can calm the ground we walk on from rumbling, a panther from pouncing, and my very nature. After seeing your love and hearing about it from Kore, I trust you and bless you to be a good King for the Underworld and a better husband to your Queen. You are part of my family now, Hades.”

Demeter looked pleased at how her heartwarming words touched Seokjin and made him weep as well. Maybe it was her own power, because all the deities present were desperately wiping their tears so others couldn’t see. Even Jimin, both known to be lighthearted and not as sentimental, had burst into tears when he saw his best friend crying and getting crowned while Taehyung tried to soothe him.

Seokjin kneeled and did the same as you when Demeter crowned him. Seokjin mouthed a ‘thank you’ to his mother-in-law and held out his hand for you to grab. You smiled and interlocked your fingers together before looking at your mother and then the rest of your guests.

“All hail, Persephone and Hades,” Your mother continued, “The Gods and rulers of the Underworld!”

The other gods and deities, and even nature itself seemed to bow down. But the two of you were so immersed in each other, that you only waved goodbye before Jin kissed you and the ground broke beneath you and went home.

#seokjin fics #bts fics #bts x reader #seokjin fluff #seokjin angst #kim seokjin #seokjin x reader #hades x persephone #bts angst #bts fluff #bts imagines #greek god au #hades! jin x persephone! reader #hades! bts x persephone! reader #bts fanfic #my writing #i'm so proud of this #proud of myself!!

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besanii · 4 years ago

Note

"i’ve been searching for you in everyone" + wangxian for the angst prompts, please!

There’s a man who comes to the shop at the same time every day, orders the same drink (pu-er with chrysanthemum) and sits at the same table in the corner beneath the staircase. Sometimes he’ll be reading a book, a battered old thing that must be centuries old from its worn pages and its worn butterfly binding. Sometimes he would unwrap the guqin he carries on his back and lays it out on the table, idle fingers plucking a half-forgotten melody. Other times he’d just sit there quietly, lost in thought, for hours and hours while the world moves around him.

He’s seen people like him before. He’s watched them all: lost souls still tethered to the world, searching for something that had been denied them in life and they now seek in death. They wander the earth day after day, year after year, century upon century, until they can no longer remember the reason they linger. And then they come here, to this little shop of his stuck between life and death, and he ushers them back into the cycle of reincarnation.

Some of them hang around for a while before they leave, holding onto that tiny flicker of hope that they might suddenly remember what they’ve been searching for so that they can move on in peace. Sometimes they do; he watches the joy blossom across their faces as they take the broth he offers them, and they pass on with a contented sigh. Others are not so lucky; he watches the light fade from their eyes, and they drown the void inside them with the contents of his offered bowl.

It’s not his job to question. He doesn’t get involved. He greets them with a smile, hands them their drink, and sees them through the door.

But there is something about this man that feels…familiar. The sight of him tugs at the recesses of his mind, a niggling little thing that feels like a memory but evades him like a shadow, always just out of reach. Something about him makes his heart clench painfully in a way he has not felt for centuries, screaming WRONG WRONG WRONG WRONG, over and over again, until he turns away from those piercing amber eyes.

He’s not sure what finally tips him over the edge.

The next time the man comes into his shop and walks up to the counter, he’s waiting for him with a bowl already on the counter and a smile plastered on his face. The man frowns.

“I did not order this,” he says.

“Rules of the house,” he lies. “You’ve been here for centuries. It’s time.”

The man shakes his head.

“No, I am still looking for someone.” The determination in his voice stirs something akin to admiration—or perhaps pity—in his chest. “I know they will come, sooner or later. I will wait.”

“What if they’ve already gone ahead without you?” he asks. “Then the last few centuries would have been for nothing.”

Doubt creeps into that perfectly sculpted face and he feels a sharp pain in his own heart at the sight.

“Then I will wait here until his next life is over,” he says. “However long it takes. I will wait.”

“They won’t remember you,” he warns him. “They never do.”

“I will remember them,” he replies, as if it is so simple. “That is enough.”

He’s seen more than enough people like him over the centuries to know better.

“But you don’t,” he tells him quietly. “You don’t remember them. Not completely. Not enough to recognise them.”

The man looks stricken, his already pale face turns ashen, his lips pressed together in a thin, trembling line as he stares at him across the counter, horror dawning in those amber eyes.

“No,” he says harshly, slamming one shaking fist on the counter. “That’s not true. I remember. I remember his laugh—the red ribbon in his hair—the colour of his eyes. The night we first met, he sat on the roof with two jugs of wine—I confronted him about it, and he said—he said—”

“'Emperor’s Smile,'” he continues for him in a whisper, the words drawing themselves out from the hazy depths of his past. The man’s head shoots up to look at him, eyes wide. "’If I give you one, can you pretend—’”

“'—you didn’t see me?'” they finish together. He draws in a shuddering breath. “Wei Ying.”

He closes his eyes as Lan Wangji’s fingers graze over his cheeks and trace the line of his jaw—just a whisper of a touch, but it ignites little fires under his skin. His heart starts to beat just that little bit faster, the ground beneath him a little less solid as the memories come rushing back all at once. It’s him. It’s him. It’s him.

How had he forgotten?

“Lan Zhan.” The fingers press more firmly against his skin until he opens his eyes. “Lan Zhan.”

Lan Wangji is crying.

“Wei Ying,” he rasps. “It’s you.”

“It’s me,” he agrees. He’s not entirely sure he believes it. “I’m here.”

“All these years…” Lan Wangji’s eyes roam his face, drinking in the sight of him hungrily, as if committing him to memory. “I looked for you everyone. I’ve been searching for you, in everyone I meet, every face I see. I followed every trace of you I could find. And this whole time—this whole time, you’ve been—”

“Here,” Wei Wuxian finishes with a sad smile. “I’ve been here the whole time. Watching.”

Lan Wangji exhales slowly. “You forgot.”

“…I did.” A twinge of guilt. “I’m sorry.”

“No, not it’s not your fault,” Lan Wangji says, shaking his head. “I’m sorry I took so long.”

Wei Wuxian laughs wetly and reaches up to cover the hand resting on his cheek with his own.

“I knew you’d find me eventually,” he tells him. “Now we can both leave.”

They look down at the bowl on the counter. Lan Wangji frowns.

“It’s too soon,” he says, almost protesting. “I only just found you again.”

“Don’t be silly, Lan Zhan,” Wei Wuxian chides. He turns to press a kiss to his palm. “I’m coming with you.”

Lan Wangji’s breath hitches, his eyes hopeful. “Coming with me?”

Wei Wuxian nods. “We’ll go together. Everything will be fine.”

“Together,” Lan Wangji breathes. “As long as it’s with Wei Ying, everything will be fine.”

He takes the bowl from Wei Wuxian’s hand when he offers it to him again, and brings it to his lips. Wei Wuxian smiles at him encouragingly as he drinks the broth in two large swallows. His eyes never once leave his.

“Everything will be fine,” Wei Wuxian whispers as Lan Wangji sets the bowl on the table. He forces himself to smile. “Are you ready?”

Lan Wangji nods. The void has returned, all traces of recognition gone from his eyes, leaving him blank and expressionless once more. Wei Wuxian gestures to the door on his right, where a bridge materialises from the shadows.

“This way please,” he says.

He watches Lan Wangji turn to the bridge, his steps never once faltering as he walks towards it. He watches as he pauses for a brief moment at the head of the bridge, and his breath catches in his throat—but Lan Wangji keeps on walking, over the bridge, and out of sight.

He looks down at the empty bowl on the counter.

It’s not his job to question. He doesn’t get involved. He greets them with a smile, hands them their drink, and sees them through the door.

He doesn’t get to choose.

He doesn’t get to leave.

He wipes away the tears with the back of his hand, and clears the bowl from the counter.

[Read on AO3]

// buy me a ko-fi //

#wangxian #mdzs #lan wangji #wei wuxian #angst prompts #my writing #🔪🔪 🔪 🔪#mythology au #major character death cw #very loose interpretation of the 孟婆 in the chinese underworld #who gives people a soup to drink that erases their memories of their lives #so they can be reincarnated again #does it count as character death if they're both technically dead already?#idk #anyway have some knives #hey nonny nonny #asks

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longing-and-heartache-and-lust · 3 years ago

Text

the drug, the dark, the light, the flame, Ch.IX.ii

[previous] [next] [Ao3]

A brand new chapter of my work for this year’s @geraskierbigbang in collaboration with the wonderful @gen-syz-art as my artist 💕

Take a look at @gen-syz-art incredible art for this chapter here ✨✨✨ (beware of spoilers)

___________________

Looking for Jaskier takes some time.

The gardens almost seem even bigger than they were last time, and there are so many different scents that Geralt can’t isolate the one he’s looking for from the rest.

He could just ask, for in his search he comes across eight different people, and at least one of them should know where Jaskier is, but Geralt makes a point out of finding him on his own.

It takes him almost an hour to finally come across a willow tree, its long vines falling all the way to the ground like a curtain, and be greeted by Lucio that pokes his nose out of them.

Stepping inside is like stepping into a sanctuary, into a safe place, completely detached from the outside world.

The curtain of vines surrounds the tree from all sides, and the sun that breaks through them makes this hidden little world feel even more magical. There’s enough space to fit quite a few people, the willow old and generous, and Geralt thinks that it’s probably the best place to spend long summer days, hiding from the heat and from the outside world in general.

Jaskier doesn’t notice him at first, too preoccupied with writing something in a notebook he’s got open in his lap, but when Asra perks up to greet the witcher, he raises his head.

“You found my hiding place,” he smiles, bright as the sun.

He pats the empty space beside him, and Geralt comes closer before he even thinks about it, getting down into the grass and resting his back against the tree trunk, as well. He tries to get a look at what Jaskier is writing but the younger man hides the notebook from him as soon as he notices.

“Searched the entire garden,” Geralt chuckles in response.

After an entire day spent in bed and a proper night’s sleep, he feels like himself again, the wounds on his thigh now healing much faster and the pain almost gone. He doesn’t limp as he walks any longer.

“This is one of my favourite places of the entire estate,” Jaskier says, and he’s so torturously-close that Geralt can’t help but lean towards him until their shoulders are pressed together. “If I’m not in the mansion, I’m here.”

He’s got a dark-green chemise on, the sleeves embroidered with gold thread, and every time a ray of the sun catches on it, it shines, and though Geralt himself prefers much more subtle colours and designs, he can’t deny that it looks beautiful.

“I can see why,” he nods. “It’s peaceful here.”

Jaskier hums an affirmation, his eyes closed blissfully. Geralt still can’t quite get used to just how relaxed he is in his presence, how there isn’t even a hint of fear that he is so used to feeling on other people. That almost makes him forget about the world outside the mansion and his role in it.

He thinks, once again, how when he’s with Jaskier, he can be more than just what his mutations make him.

And then, it finally hits him.

It’s not that he wants to return to the mansion.

It’s that he doesn’t want to leave.

***

They spend almost half of the day in Jaskier’s little hiding place.

Jaskier tells him more about his time in the Academy and, when Geralt asks, tells him that though he’s got an honours diploma for all seven liberal arts, his heart and soul have always belonged to poetry and music. When Geralt considers it, he’s almost surprised by just how easy it is to think of Jaskier as a bard.

Can a prince also be a bard? An illegitimate one probably can. It’s a perfect disguise.

Bard.

It’s easy to refer to him by that name in Geralt’s mind.

After Jaskier tells him that, he finally lets the witcher see his notebook, filled with poems, neat lines or runes crossed out and then written again over and over. Geralt doesn’t understand much in poetry but the lines that he reads are filled with such emotions that they pull on the strings deep in his heart.

Once he gets to the unfinished poem that Jaskier was working on when he’d found him, Jaskier snatches the notebook from his hands and refuses to give it back, a beautiful shade of red spilling over his cheeks.

Geralt can’t quite stop himself from reaching out and running his thumb over the soft skin, and before he can pull away, Jaskier intercepts his wrist and tugs him down onto the grass, laughing as Geralt blink in mild confusion, his body suddenly unable to resist, though Jaskier’s strength is nothing compared to his.

They stay lying side by side in the soft grass for what seems like hours, Jaskier reciting poems and ballads by heart, and Geralt just listening. At some point, he lets himself get convinced - somehow - to also recite something, and he entertains the bard with a highly indecent poem about a farmer’s daughter and a knight that he and his brothers used to giggle over when they were still kids in Kaer Morhen.

Jaskier plays courtier, gasping at the crudeness, but then breaks into laughter, unable to keep his act up.

He rolls onto his stomach, propping himself up on both elbows to get a proper look at the witcher, and reaches out to brush a stray silver strand away from his face.

Even if Geralt’s life depended on it, he wouldn't be able to decide whether he likes this quiet comfort or the maddening teasing more.

And though the knowledge of having to leave in a few days is a constant reminder somewhere in the far corner of his mind, he allows himself - if only for a little while - to put it aside.

***

“Do you want to see the sunset?”

The library is painted gold and scarlet with the light of the setting sun, and the colours play beautifully on the silk of Jaskier’s chemise.

Geralt doesn’t necessarily want to move, more than comfortable on the soft settee and with Jaskier half-asleep in his arms, but when in the last two months had he been able to say no to this man?

Jaskier’s eyes light up when Geralt hums an affirmation, and the next moment he’s already up on his feet, alerting the dogs napping peacefully on a chair by the window. They jump down onto the rug, ears perked up and tails wagging, feeling Jaskier excitement in his scent the same way that Geralt feels it.

He lets himself be pulled away from the settee, Jaskier’s warm fingers wrapped around his own, and follows him into the hallway and towards the wide staircase.

“Come on, we’re going to miss it,” Jaskier urges, adorably impatient.

Geralt’s healing thigh gives a little stab of protest as they pick up the pace, nearly running up the stairs, but Geralt’s had much worse, so it barely registers with him.

They make their way up onto the fifth floor and down yet another hallway to the very end of the west wing of the mansion, where Jaskier pushes open the door of a bedroom and they rush inside, towards the balcony doors, the golden light streaming through the glass, nearly blinding.

Jaskier lets go of Geralt’s hand to push down on both door handles, throwing the arches open, and for a second, the view takes Geralt’s breath away.

This high up, they can watch the golden disk of the setting sun as it slowly makes it's way down, touching the treetops of the pines in the forest. In the distance, Geralt can see the glimmering ribbon of the river, and all around the mansion, there are valleys of flowers in full bloom. The scent is sweet and heady, almost intoxicating, and Geralt takes in a deep breath, feeling his lungs expand in his chest.

He steals a look towards Jaskier, who doesn’t seem to notice it, too mesmerised by the golden light. It reflects in his eyes, making them look bottomless. Had their lives been different, Geralt would’ve let himself drown in that depth.

“Oh, isn’t this just gorgeous?” Jaskier asks in a breathy whisper, never taking his eyes off the horizon.

Geralt takes a step closer to him without even fully realising. It’s like in the past two days he’d grown so used to having Jaskier in his arms that he can’t keep a distance between them anymore. His scent, his warmth, the feeling of his skin - everything about him is drawing Geralt in, and he’s helpless against it.

Finally, Jaskier looks away from the setting sun and at Geralt. He keeps their eyes locked for a long moment before his gaze drops to Geralt’s lips, and Geralt can feel his heart skip a beat before picking up its pace. The fire in his chest flares up, so bright that it’s almost painful.

Jaskier takes a step towards him, suddenly so close that all Geralt needs to do is dip his head, and he’ll finally learn what his lips taste like. He holds himself back with all the self-control he’s got but it’s running out fast. He knows that this will make everything worse, that it will make leaving more painful for both of them, but he still desperately hopes that Jaskier would close in that remaining distance between them.

Because then, maybe, it would be easier to justify Geralt’s absolute powerlessness against him.

Without it fully registering with him, Geralt wraps an arm around Jaskier’s waist, holding him close, the bard’s breath ghosting over his lips.

The moment seems to last forever, Geralt’s self-control cracking and breaking like porcelain, but just before he can make the mistake that he so longs for, Jaskier presses his fingers to the witcher’s lips, creating a barrier, and leaves a kiss over them, laughing as he breaks away.

Geralt fails to bite back a low growl, disenchantment curling into a ball in his chest like a small animal, its little claws digging deep into his heart.

And still, despite himself, he cannot hold all these torturous little games against Jaskier.

“Is that blush I see on your cheeks, my darling?” Jaskier murmurs, jumping up to sit on the bannister.

Instinctively, Geralt holds him tighter, unwilling to risk his safety.

“You’ll fall if you’re not careful,” he says flatly, ignoring the question.

They’re still so unbearably close, and Geralt can’t deny himself the pleasure of bringing his other hand up to rest it on Jaskier’s thigh, fingers pressing into the soft flesh just enough for it to be justified as him making sure the bard is safe.

Jaskier doesn’t make any move to get away from the touch, and when Geralt runs his thumb over the inner side of his thigh, his lips part on a soft little gasp.

It’s impossible not to think about the bed back in the room. About just how easy it would be to lift Jaskier up and carry him to it, lay him down onto the silk and velvet, biting marks into his neck. Impossible not to imagine all the sweet little sounds he would make.

Up on the bannister, Jaskier is higher than him, and when he reaches to tip Geralt’s chin up, there isn’t much he can do but comply.

“What do you want, Witcher?” Jaskier murmurs, his ankles locking behind Geralt’s back to keep him close.

Standing between his spread knees is just more than Geralt can take, and he tightens his grip on the bard’s thigh to keep himself grounded. Knowing that there are going to be bruises left, and Jaskier is going to have his skin painted with them for days, marked and claimed, does absolutely nothing to help the situation.

“I want you to stop putting yourself in danger,” Geralt growls, low and impatient, almost threatening.

He’s referring to much more than just sitting on the bannister, a five-floor drop on the other side, and they both know it very well.

Jaskier’s scent spikes up with sweet, heady notes of arousal even as he hisses at the tight grip on his thigh. Geralt bites his tongue painfully not no lean in and nose at Jaskier’s neck, right under the jaw, where that scent is the strongest. If he does, he won’t be able to hold back anymore.

Jaskier’s eyes light up with a spark of mischief, almost a challenge, and it only takes him one perfectly calculated move to twist out of Geralt’s grip, standing up on the bannister and laughing victoriously.

Geralt’s heart drops at the sight, and he grabs Jaskier’s hand tightly, ensuring his balance. The bannister isn’t necessarily narrow, Jaskier could probably lie down on it if he wanted to, but he could still slip, and that is not a risk that Geralt is willing to take.

The fire in his chest gives way to the rush of adrenaline, and he sighs deeply, calming himself down.

This is going to be the death of him.

“I’m putting myself in danger,” Jaskier grins, walking the length of the bannister in theatrically slow steps, his hand still in Geralt’s tight grip. “What are you going to do about it?”

Oh, there are so many things Geralt could do about it.

In his imagination, he presses Jaskier up against the wall of the balcony, bites into his lips, parting them with his tongue. He sucks marks and bruising kisses into his neck, the skin there so flawlessly smooth that the love-bites stand out like blood-red flowers against it. He leads Jaskier back inside, pulls him down onto the bed, undoing the intricate lacing and buttons of his clothes.

He takes him apart with hands and lips, drinking in every little whimper and moan, until Jaskier is trembling and gasping, and does it all over again.

But none of that can go further than his imagination.

So instead, he just yanks Jaskier towards him, catching him before he falls, and grins to himself at the way that he yelps in surprise. A small but pleasant victory.

“Balcony bannisters are no place for a prince,” Geralt murmurs, and the last word just slips.

He bites his tongue way too late, never having meant to say it out loud, to admit - so incautiously and foolishly - that that is what he’d somehow grow to think of Jaskier as. If it’s not true, then he’s just childish for believing something he’d heard in a nearby town, and if it is true… then I can turn out to bear far worse consequences, for both of them. An illegitimate prince hidden in a giant mansion in the middle of nowhere is unlikely to afford for his identity to be known. And the King certainly doesn’t.

For a long moment, Geralt feels like he can barely breathe, waiting for a reaction, but Jaskier just gives him a long, slightly puzzled look that could mean just about anything, and, finally, gives him a charming smile.

“You’re right,” he says. “It is no place for a prince.”

***

The three days after that go by in relative peace.

They spend most of the time in the gardens or in the library, reading, talking or just being in each other’s presence, even if neither says a word.

Jaskier decides, at one point, to give the cooks a day off and take over the kitchen, entrusting Geralt with the venison brought in by his hunters earlier in the day, while he’s busy with herbs and vegetables. Geralt doesn’t really protest, used to helping out in the kitchen in Kaer Morhen, and Jaskier does look ridiculously good in an apron. He does turn out to be rather bossy in the kitchen but Geralt fails to find it in himself to mind.

They play with the dogs, both Asra and Lucio now used enough to the witcher to trust him, napping with their heads in his lap whenever Jaskier’s is unavailable. They’re just as unafraid of Geralt as their owner, and for Geralt, who is used to animals hissing and growling at him, it’s almost touching.

At night, if the sky is clear, Jaskier lures Geralt out into the gardens to lie down in the grass and watch the endless stars shimmer in the sky. He remembers a lot of astronomy from the Academy, and tells Geralt about the constellations high above, as well as making up his own ones based on what he sees in the sky.

It gets cold at night, and he keeps close to Geralt, safe and warm under their shared cloak. Geralt keeps an arm around him and presses his cold nose to his temple every now and then to make the bard giggle.

Jaskier almost kisses him more times than Geralt would be able to count, but each time he breaks away, laughing and leaving him with nothing. Geralt knows that he’s just waiting for him to break first, and it takes him everything he’s got not to.

A couple of times he comes very close to pushing Jaskier up against the nearest wall, for he never stops his torturous teasing, but on some level, he almost enjoys this inability to have him, because though the fire in his chest can grow painfully hot, no-one’s ever made him feel like this.

It helps, in a way, that Jaskier is always hearing his intricately embroidered shirts with sleeves that cinch in on his wrists and high collars that keep most of his skin hidden, because Geralt isn’t sure that he’d able to think about anything other than the marks that he could leave on that skin had it been any other way.

And that… well, that ends up playing against him.

It’s his sixth morning in the mansion - the second to last, he tells himself repeatedly - when he fails to find Jaskier in any of the places that they would usually spend the morning in.

The first place that Geralt searches through is the downstairs library that seems to be Jaskier's favourite room of the mansion. There are books that they’ve left behind the night before, pieces of parchment all over the table, and Jaskier’s cloak but no sign of the bard himself.

When Geralt doesn't find him there, and then in the gardens, and then in the smaller library upstairs, there is no other place that he can think of other than Jaskier's bedroom. It's still relatively early in the morning, and maybe he's too unwilling to get out of bed just yet, warmed by both Asra and Lucio.

Reluctantly, Geralt makes his way up to the last floor and to the door of Jaskier's bedroom. He'd never been inside, and for some reason, it feels unnerving. All the time that he’d spent in the mansion, he’d only been on the fifth floor twice: first when Jaskier was giving him a general tour, and then when they rushed to the balcony to watch the sunset.

Jaskier’s rooms have remained something almost forbidden, a place where Jaskier would disappear to at night and then leave in the morning. Something private, sealed off to all guests.

After standing outside the door for a few long moments, Geralt knocks, expecting to hear the now-familiar tap-tap-tap of the dogs' claws along the floor because they're always the first ones to check, but gets no answer.

Feeling like he shouldn't be doing this, he tests the door handle, and it turns with no resistance.

The bedroom is just as big as he'd imagined, with a canopy bed lined with wine-red velvet and arch windows that let through the soft morning light. There are large paintings in golden frames hung on the walls, stacks of parchment and books on the table by one of the windows, a chandelier for what must be a hundred candles on the high ceiling.

It’s a gorgeous room.

But right now, Geralt can't quite concentrate on any of that, because all he can look at is the open door to the bathroom in the far end of the room. He can hear water splashing softly and then Jaskier's footsteps that he'd grown to recognise among all others.

His throat suddenly feels very dry, and he can't bring himself to say something, nor can he turn around and leave, giving the younger man his privacy. Instead, he just stands and watches, waiting for... he doesn't even know what, exactly.

Jaskier stays out of his field of vision for some time, murmuring some song under his breath, and when Geralt does finally see him, he's got his back to him, a silk dressing gown flowing down his body in waves.

For reasons that Geralt can only assume to be cruel fate, Jaskier keeps his robe off his shoulders, just a little above the line of his elbows, like a voluminous shawl. It covers his arms below the elbows, his lower back and his legs, providing some modesty, but after only seeing Jaskier in his silk shirts, barely any open skin, Geralt feels like all air had been sucked out of his lungs.

The half-discarded dressing gown provides Geralt with a perfect view of Jaskier's neck and shoulders, drops of water still shining on his beautiful pale skin, of the curve of his spine and the lines of his shoulder blades that Geralt wishes he could follow with his lips and fingertips.

He can see the soft outlines of muscles, the little birthmark just above Jaskier’s right shoulder blade, just a few tones darker than his overall pale skin, the thin white scar on the curve of his left shoulder.

And there's something else, too. Something Geralt didn't expect but that looks so elegant on Jaskier's body that it causes little to no resonance in the witcher.

Right between Jaskier's shoulder blades, perfectly centred, his skin is adorned with a delicate, geometric design. It looks like white ink, just brighter, standing out against the skin, almost glowing in the low candlelight of the bathroom, and though Geralt's never seen anything like that before, it looks beautiful.

He'd only seen tattoos on Skellige and in Novigrad, but this one is so starkly different from all of those, so delicate and precise, that it feels like it doesn’t even belong to this realm. Unusual that a member of the royal family - legitimate or not - would have something like this but perhaps this is exactly what marks him as one? Hidden under all that silk, Geralt never would’ve known he had it if he hadn't seen it now. So how can he assume that other members of the ruling family don’t have one?

It’s way too late when it registers with him that he’d crossed the room already and is now only a few steps shy of the open bathroom door, unable to take his eyes off Jaskier.

Jaskier, on the other hand, seems completely aware of his presence.

“Did you want something?” he murmurs, completely unfazed as he brushes past Geralt and into the bedroom.

His hair is still wet from his bath, falling into his face in loose locks, the smell of pomegranate sweet and heady in the air, almost making Geralt’s head spin.

Jaskier’s collarbones are a sharp outline, the delicate skin stretched tight over them, and though Geralt’s always had a thing for it, he can feel a sharp spasm of pure lust somewhere deep in his abdomen from just how bad he wants to bite into them.

Without fully thinking his actions through, he catches Jaskier’s wrist and turns him around, so they’re face to face again. Jaskier gasps but doesn’t resist, his cornflower-blue eyes snapping up to meet Geralt’s.

His bare chest rises and falls in slow, even breaths, like he’s completely unbothered by the state he’s in, by Geralt seeing him like this.

“I was wondering if you were going to let yourself in if I leave the door unlocked,” he murmurs, taking another step towards the witcher, until there is no more space left between them. “If you came looking for me while I was still in the bath, what would you have done?”

He shifts, pressing his hips to Geralt’s thigh, and it resonates through the witcher’s entire body like lightning when he realises that under the thin silk of the dressing gown, Jaskier is completely naked.

“Would you have helped me with my hair?” the bard goes on, that same intoxicatingly sweet murmur. “Or would you have simply fucked me right there and then?”

And at that, Geralt snaps.

He grabs Jaskier’s thighs, lifting him from the floor, and sits him down impatiently onto a chest of drawers just behind his back, not even trying to bite back a growl when the bard wraps his legs around his hips, knees spread wide apart.

His dressing gown has more than enough fabric to keep him covered even like this, but Geralt’s head reels from knowing that it would only take one brush of his fingers to get it out of the way, letting the heavy silk slip down Jaskier’s thigh.

“You’re killing me,” Geralt growls, low and dangerous, leaning down to Jaskier’s ear, and he shudders in response.

Jaskier keeps his balance with one hand flat on the polished wood of the chest of drawers, but the other one is in Geralt’s hair almost immediately. He leans in unbearably close, his lips brushing over Geralt’s in a feather-light touch as he lets out a shaky breath.

“Then make me pay for it.”

At that moment, there is nothing that Geralt wants more than to kiss him, Jaskier’s lips parted and bite-swollen and right there.

But he’s leaving tomorrow morning.

And so instead of Jaskier’s lips, Geralt bites into his neck. He sinks his teeth into the tender skin right under the sharp of the bard’s jaw, where his scent is the strongest, and sucks a bruising, blood-red mark into it, making Jaskier arch his back and gasp the witcher’s name.

Geralt pulls back, for just a second, his gaze fixed on the fresh love-bite, standing out sharply against Jaskier’s pale, smooth skin, untouched by anything or anyone else. He looks owned, claimed, taken.

But it’s not nearly enough.

Geralt bites another bruising kiss right next to the first one, pressing his tongue to the fresh mark to both soothe the pain and make Jaskier even more sensitive. And then another one. And then another one.

He loses himself in the feeling of Jaskier’s skin, the sound of his voice, his gasps breaking off into soft whimpers when Geralt bites just a little too hard. In the scent of dried herbs and vanilla and pomegranate, only made sweeter by the intoxicating sweetness of lust.

Geralt leaves a scattered pattern of love-bites all the way down Jaskier’s neck, sucks three marks onto his collarbones, growling with pleasure, and he’s more than sure that there are going to be fresh bruises on the bard’s thighs from just how tight he’s still holding him.

Jaskier keeps him close with his ankles clasped behind Geralt’s back, his breathing deep and fast like he can’t get enough air. He looks unbearably gorgeous like this.

Geralt’s mind is hazy with lust and pleasure, his cock hard and throbbing under the now painfully-tight leather of his trousers, and he doesn’t have to look to know that Jaskier is in the same state. His scent tells him everything he needs to know.

And it would be so easy, so fucking easy to just carry Jaskier over to the bed, undo the belt holding his dressing gown closed, and fuck him, tearing more of those beautiful whimpers from his chest.

But that would be a far greater mistake than the one that Geralt has already made.

He takes in as deep of a breath as his lungs allow him, and takes a step back, pressing one last desperate kiss to Jaskier’s neck, now covered in his marks.

Geralt doesn’t have anything to say for himself, but he doesn’t have to, for after just a few seconds of catching his breath, Jaskier grins at him victoriously, like it’s all a part of his little game and he’s not affected by it in the slightest.

“I’ll take that as the answer to the question of whether or not you would’ve fucked me if you’d gotten here a little sooner,” he murmurs.

Geralt doesn’t try to stop him when Jaskier jumps down from the dresser, adjusting the folds of his dressing gown. It’s more than hard to keep a hold on his self-control, and he fears that any touch could send it all to hell.

His heart is beating fast and hard in his chest, and he’s still painfully hard, but it brings him a sense of possessive satisfaction to see Jaskier’s neck and collarbones marked with his teeth. Those love-bites won’t fully fade for more than a week.

“Now, if you don’t have the intention of undressing me, I need to change,” Jaskier says, walking over to the wardrobes in the opposite corner.

Geralt watches his every move, still standing by the chest of drawers, not willing to risk it and close in the distance between them again. He wants to ask about the symbol on Jaskier’s back but it seems unfitting to bring that up now.

Jaskier picks out his clothes and takes them out of the wardrobe, already reaching for the belt on his dressing gown when he seems to notice Geralt’s gaze.

“I’m not giving you easy ways out, Witcher,” he grins, even as the belt starts to slowly give way. “Turn around.”

He clicks his tongue, and from somewhere under the furs and pillows on the bed, emerges Lucio that Geralt had not noticed before. Jaskier whistles to him and, when the dog jumps down from the bed to sit next to him, indicates at Geralt with a move of his head.

“Ambush, Lucio,” he says, never breaking eye contact with Geralt. “He’s a purebred hunting dog, Witcher. If you move as much as a fraction, he will let me know. Now turn around.”

For a lack of a better option, Geralt does.

He can hear the dressing gown fall to the floor in a soft whisper of silk, and knowing that Jaskier is right behind his back, completely naked and covered in his marks is making it hard to breathe. But Geralt can feel Lucio’s razor-sharp attention on him, and he knows that if he tries to get even the smallest look, Jaskier will immediately know about it, and the entire little game is going to be ruined.

No, he stays with his back to Jaskier the entire time he’s changing, forced to listen to his own quickened heartbeat, and it seems like an eternity has passed until Jaskier revokes his command and Lucio loses all interest in the witcher.

When Geralt finally turns around, he finds Jaskier wearing a black chemise with blood-red rose petals embroidered into the sleeves, the colour matching the love-bites on his neck almost perfectly.

Geralt hasn’t told him yet that he’s leaving tomorrow.

But gods, he’s going to miss him.

#the witcher #geraskier #geraskier big bang #geralt/jaskier #geralt x jaskier #geralt of rivia #jaskier #the drug the dark the light the flame #my writing #calton writes

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