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dragon-of-dreams · 4 years ago

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A Debt to pay

My Masterlist

Pairing: dark!mafia!Bucky x Reader

Warnings: noncon; breading kink; threats, murder, readers parents are dead, reader getting hit across the face, DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT! Seariously, this is some really dark shit with some astonishingly soft sx... No idea how that happened... 18+!!!

No mentions of y/n, and reader is kinda an off because she has a back-story but no physical descriptors are used.

Summary: Your dad dies unexpectedly and you take over running the family cafè. The costs for your daddy’s funeral bring the head of the Barnes family to your doorstep as you struggle to keep up with the payments for a loan you had no idea your dad had taken out with them. You get “offered” an alternative method of payment.

a/n: this was a request by the lovely @oneoftheprettynerds

I hope I did it justice! Thank you for being the most patient person in the world, when Covid, life, exams, life and so on and so forth got in the way of your wish!

Prompt: Can I please get a dark mafia bucky or peter with noncon and breeding kink? With a side of people hitting on reader

Wordcount: 2,800

In all seriousness, you had to consider yourself lucky. Most people in this small city had it worse than you. Most didn’t have their own business, certainly not at your age, and most would never have enough money to even dream about that. Your town had the habit of sucking money out of people faster than they could make it and as of late that was also the case for you.

After your dad had died unexpectedly in a car crash, money had been tight, really tight. You’d never known how fucking expensive funerals were and his drained all the savings you had, just before you’d managed to scrambled together enough for a community college education in business. Now you were left an orphan in your early twenties running a café on only the knowledge you’d learnt from your dad with no prospects of an education. Now you were as stuck as everybody else in town.

What made matters even worse was the bill you’d gotten two weeks after the funeral. A bill from the one company in town nobody wanted one from. Rich men running successful businesses on the backs of the honest town’s people by draining their money. The mafia. Sharks in suits.

According to the bill your dad had borrowed money from them 10 years ago. Your best guess was that he had needed it for your mother’s funeral and had never told you. Be that how it may, you didn’t know how to pay that bill. So you asked for time and put in extra hours, keeping the café open til late at night.

You hated the extra hours. Not only because you got less sleep and had to work so much more and couldn’t afford to hire more employees but also because the later it got the more aggressively people hit on you.

You hated them. All those men coming in once the sun set, calling you their sweetheart like you were property and grabbing at you and you having to smile and flirt because you needed their tips. Desperately. And yet it seemed to make no difference. There was just no money to be made in this town.

Bucky Barnes, the head of the Romanov family had given you two months to come up with the next payment, and you knew that you’d end up dead in a ditch with them ceasing your café if you didn’t make it.

So you smiled and joked with the moms coming in in the mornings and afternoons and flirted and swayed for their husbands at night. When you were in your little apartment above the café after you finally closed you usually cried yourself to sleep. And all throughout the day you would see him. See Bucky fucking Barnes watching you. At first you thought you were imagining it, but he was driving past your café in way too regular intevals, and would even occasionally take up one of your tables. You always sent other staff to serve him, you couldn’t bare to go to him, but his cold blue eyes never left you.

Over those two month it became abundantly clear that you would never manage to come up with $2,000. And when one of Bucky’s men came in on the Wednesday before the Friday the payment was due, you thought of the 1,200 bucks you’d managed and wanted to cry.

You knew the man, you’d gone to school with his younger brother Peter who had been a royal pain in your ass, having provided a glimpse of the harassment by the men you now faced every evening. Still you smiled at him: “Steve, hi, what can I get you?” ignoring that you had already flipped your sign to closed and where moping the floors.

“Hi y/n, a coffee would be great, if you still got some” Steve answered while inspecting your café like he already owned the place.

“Sure thing!” You tried to sound chipper, but the strain in you voice was audible, as you went behind the counter and got the machine going.

“Sugar? Milk?” you asked, with your back turned to Steve, hoping to draw out the inevitable.

“Just sugar, thanks.” Steve sounded gruff and distant and you knew you’d lost. He probably already knew that you wouldn’t be able to pay. He had accompanied Bucky a bunch of times, never ordered anything, just watched and listened, as Bucky drank or ate. The men had attracted stares. Not only because they were mafia, but because for personified devils, they sure looked like gods.

As you set his coffee before him he asked: “So what can I tell my boss to expect on Friday?” You stared at Steve in his perfectly tailored suit in harsh contrast to the homey but ultimately grimy café surrounding him as you decided on what to say. He looked amazing, and you hated him for it.

Steve raised an eyebrow at you. He was getting impatient. “I… I have a little over half.” You muttered and looked down at your hands, twisted tightly together. “My daddy’s funeral cost so much money, and I” you were interrupted by Steve’s fist hitting the countertop, making you flinch. His rage was pouring out of him so suddenly, taking over everything else. He seethed: “Safe your excuses, little girl. Just make sure to get the money. Bucky isn’t as lenient as I am.” With that, Steve got up from the bar, drained his coffee in one long gulp and left without giving you the chance to beg. You would have. You would do anything now if it meant saving your life. ‘Lenient’, you thought. How was any of this lenient?

On Friday morning, you didn’t want to get up, much less open the café, but you did both. You put a notice outside that you would close earlier tonight, so Barnes and his henchmen wouldn’t scare off your customers and then you went to work.

The entire day felt like molasses. Time didn’t move at all, it left you fidgety and nervous. You screwed up more orders than you were willing to admit and then suddenly time jumped and it was 6 p.m. and the sun was setting and you’d closed the café down, pulled all curtains closed except for the front door and were sitting there, waiting. What for, you didn’t know.

At 6:30 a black limousine came to a stop before your café and Barnes and Peter got out. Which you decided was a good sign. Surley if they were to kill you, they would’ve brought some muscle, not lanky Peter… Bucky Barnes wouldn’t get his hands dirty with you, would he? Or was that what Peter was for? Did he still have to prove himself in the company?

As Bucky entered you wished it would just end now. To your sheer horror, Peter stayed outside, blocking the door, leaving you all alone with the man you feared most in this world. He looked just like everytime he’d previously entered your café. His suit fit perfectly and you could see the muscle beneath. He was astonishingly beautiful. If he only were so on the inside as well, you mused.

“Hi sweetheart,” Bucky drawled as he approached you, “Steve told me you don’t have my money.” You shrunk in on yourself, but nodded, as Bucky came to tower over you.

“That’s not good, angel, not at all. Why don’t you come out from behind the counter and we sit down and talk about it, huh?”

All you could do was nod. “What happened? Cat got your tongue?” Bucky teased as he grabbed you by the elbow and led you to a boot in the corner of the café, way out of view from the front door. His touch was startingly kind. You had prepared for pain, but were met with kind support. Your brow furrowed.

“I…” You looked up at him. “I g got $1,300. I know that’s not enough, but”

“Shh.” Bucky murmured and pushed you down onto the bench, took of his suit jacket, hung it carefully over a nearby chair and then caged you in by sitting at your side. You were trapped and you were shaking with fear.

Bucky was so much taller than you and even through his perfectly tailored black dressshirt you could see his muscles bulging. You couldn’t decide weather you wanted to start sobbing into his chest or punch him in the stomach. “Steve already told me all about that, angel, don’t worry, I already came up with a new payment plan.”

“You’re not mad?” you question, to terrified to be hopeful.

“Well, I am not thrilled, but I’ve always had a softspot for this place. My pa used to take me when I was little. I watched you grow up, you know?”

Hope bloomed like desert rose in your heart. He knew you! He had a connection to you! That surely meant he wouldn’t kill you. You’d figure out the money. Suddenly you were certain that you could do it.

“really? That’s – I never knew…” Your voice was fluttering with hope.

“Well, it’s a small town.” Bucky’s voice was calm and soothing. You almost forgot that you were squished between him and the wall.

“And with me seeing you grow up, and seeing all the other women in town I decided that you would give me an heir to take here. To watch people with, so he too could choose his wife. An heir for me and forgiveness for your debt and a happy home life for you.” Your world stopped spinning. It screeched to a halt.

“What? No, Bucky, I…” Bucky wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulled you close. The arm was tight across you back and stole your words from you as fear spread from every spot he touched throughout your entire body.

“You’re a hard worker, you have a drive for better and higher things. I like that. It’ll make you a diligant mother, you know angel? And that is what I need. A good mother to the boy who will inherit this town, don’t you agree?”

You sit there frozen, unable to reply. Your brain is going a thousand miles an hour trying to find a way, any way, to get away, but before you can do anything Bucky grabs your right hand and presses it to his crotch. He’s hard. The calm demeanour falls off him suddenly as he growls: “Here is how this will go, angel,” he starts to move your hand up and down his crotch, “I will let go of your hand and you will undo my pants and get me ready and then I will have that little pussy of yours on this table. I mean it ain’t romantic, but once you are my little wife I’ll make up for that, sweetheart.”

You swallow hard, press your eyes closed and feel him move his hand over the fine cotton of his suit and his hard length underneath, then you force yourself to nod. It’s a jerking, hurtful motion, but Bucky released you hand, as he leans back on the bench, spreading his legs, opening himself up to you.

You want to thrash out, but instead you shaking hands wander to his belt. “Go on, now. we ain’t got all night, darling.” You are tearing up, but do as you’re told. You lean slightly over him and undo his belt first, then his pants. His cock strains against his boxer briefs and you gulp. Bucky lifts his hips and you push his pants and underwear down.

His cock is beautiful. Long and thick and veined and you can’t help but press your thighs together at the sight. Bucky notices and smirks down at you. “Now that’s a good girl. Keep it up and I make sure you enjoy yourself!” he whispers in your ear as he guides your hands to his dick.

As you jerk him, you realize that you underestimated his size. Your fucked. Literally. There is no way you’re gonna enjoy this. Bucky shoves his left hand up your skirt suddenly and you freeze until he clears his throat and startles you back into action, while his fingers start exloring your sex.

“You know,” Bucky explains, “I find it helps ladies to go down on a guy before actually fucking. Gets them nice and ready, you know?” One of his fingers slides into your tight chanel, “But with you it seems we don’t need that. The sight of my cock alone made you cream. I knew there was something special about you!” He grins and removes his hand. “We might still have to work on your handjob skills though…” he muses, grips your hand and removes it form his dick, as he gets up.

You shrink back but he pulls you out after him. Finally, blessedly, your panic response sets in any you try to struggle, but Bucky’s hold on your arm tightens painfully and his left hand hits you across the face before you even see it coming and it makes your world spin. “Stop it, now!” Bucky barks at you and you freeze. Your feeble attempts forgotten as Bucky lifts you onto the table and rips your panties off. You start sobbing as he bends your right leg to your shoulder and situates himself.

“Sssh,” he cooes at you softly, “I’ll make it better, baby, just one moment.” His suddenly warm voice lulls you into a false sense of security as you stare into his deep blue eyes. They are bewitching you, and you only feel him push in when it’s too late.

He sheethes himself in one agonizingly long stroke. The pain breaks you out of your reverie, you arch your back and groan. It hurts! It hurts so much, and yet you want more, so much more. “Bucky!” you plead, you sob, you whine and once more there it is, the calm voice of the devil now owning your life, rolling in like the tide washing over you, calming you. “I know my sweet pet, I know, just relax now. Just breathe.” And you do. You can’t help yourself.

Bucky lets out a pained moan as you settle around him, and once your clenched eyes flutter back open, once your back comes back down from its painful arch, the god above you starts to move. Every drag and push is better than the last. He hits home every time. His dick lights up a pathway to your pleasure, with every sharp, hard, relentlessy painful thrust, in time with his pubic hair grinding against your clit. A particularly hard thrust shifts his cock so it hits your cervix and you scream with pain and pleasure. Your arms reach up, your hands burying themselves in his thick hair as Bucky leans in closer to you, bending you in half on that table, and nuzzles at your neck as he starts to hammer into you. Every thrust is pure bliss. You want to feel ashamed, you want to push him away, but all you can feel is the drag and glide of his cock, his pelvis against your clit, his tip hitting your cervix. You are on fire and the coil in your core is ready to explode. The intensity of Bucky’s thrusts never wavers, even as you feel him swell even further as his balls draw up and that tiny change breaks you, your orgasm explodes and you cry out in ecstatic pleasure, just as Bucky falters and shoots his cum in thick long strokes into you. His warmth joing yours as he lazily pumps to stop within you.

You only come back to yourself as Bucky pulls out slowly and you can feel your combined, cooling spend trickle down your legs. He eases your leg back down and kisses you softly as you start crying. “Ssh, darling, you’re alright. You’re done. Your debt is paid and you’ll be my wife in no time, the mother to my heir. You did so good, angel!” He coos sweet nothing at you until you can control your crying enough to speak.

“Bucky, I’m not on anything! What if it really takes?” you whimper, emerging from the fantasy he built up in your head.

“That is rather the point!” He snaps harshly. The calm voice gone as quickly as it emerged. You shiver as you realize the extent of what he said before. He really meant it all… Bucky pulls up his pants. “Pack up your things, lovely, tomorrow I’ll pick you up and you are moving in with me, so I can keep an eye on you!” With that Bucky pulls on his suit jacket and heads for the door, as you struggle to sit up, shaking and crying.

At the door Bucky looks back at you, his voice a lot calmer again: “I’m real happy about our new business arrangement as it ensures you will be staying with me, little girl. If only your daddy would have agreed to let me have you, his car wouldn’t have had to end up wrapped around a tree so your little college fund would go away. Sleep tight now, Mama, and I’ll see you tomorrow.”

#dark!Bucky Barnes #dark Bucky #dark!Bucky #Bucky x reader #dark!Bucky x reader #marvel #fanfiction #fic #fanfic #prompt #captain america #the winter soldier #cafe au

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honklore · 4 years ago

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invisible string | dreamwastaken

(requested plot by red string of fate soulmate au, dream is still a streamer, reader has commitment issues, dream just wants someone to love, chat is the best wingman, sapnap and george try but they suck, reader is timid but dream makes them feel brave, taylor swift references, this is not very deep or poetic at all, i don’t like typing y/n so after this i’m going to move to ___)

listen to: invisible string by taylor swift

In kindergarten, red strings were simply a crafting tool, and teachers never mentioned how much pain they would eventually bring.

Because when they appear, from a child’s eighteenth birthday and beyond, they tighten like a godforsaken high school ring that came in one size too small. Like the universe is a child tugging their mother towards the ice cream truck, you’re pulled around central Florida, passes faces you can’t memorize and voices too garbled to hear.

The string knows where you need to go, and when.

And you’re at the park, feeding ducks and trying to ignore that incessant pull that tugs at your pinky, when you hear it.

It’s a voice you know only because it’s a voice that’s been in your house before. At least, through your brother’s tablet screen. Some gamer online — a streamer, with a distinct wheezing laugh that you’d recognize anywhere.

And you do. Behind you.

You risk a small peak, and your heart drops into your chest. He’s tall. Too tall to not intimidate you. And his sandy hair is wavy, curling at the collar of his sweatshirt, falling perfectly into place when he runs his hands through it. When he does, you see it, the red string.

Which means he could see it too. All he’d have to do is turn around.

But you’re not ready. You haven’t been, not since you watched your cousin get rejected on her eighteenth birthday. Since you watched a string of fate get clipped in front of you, like the three fates had finally had enough of your cousin’s happiness.

It was enough to make you curl into yourself, and reject the natural pull set before you. So you run, and you try not to think of what would’ve happened if he saw you before you saw him. You try not to feel the clippers, but the blade feels tangible against your skin.

You don’t stop running until you arrive home.

“Hey chat, just wanted to do a few practice runs and catch up with you guys,” Dream mumbles into the mic, already restarting his game after deciding he didn’t like his seed. The donos begin rolling in, even before Sapnap and George have unmuted, so Dream flits his eyes to the display screen, subconsciously reading along with the text-to-speech voice, “Dream, what if we shared a string of fate? Ahaha, just kidding... unless... love you bestie.”

Dream chuckles, “Actually chat, I felt a tug today! Isn’t that weird? I was actually reading up on what that could mean, and it seems like either my soulmate is in a lot of distress, or they were in my vicinity. I’m hoping, for their sake, it’s the second one. How would you even comfort a soulmate if all you can do is tug on a stupid string?”

“Simp!” George finally unmutes just to be annoying, and Dream knows soulmates are a touchy spot for him, considering he wasn’t given a string on his eighteenth. Which is strange, but not impossible. Of course, chat doesn’t know this, because it would give them more hope of becoming George’s metaphorical soulmate, but it certainly makes for awkward conversations once Dream and Sapnap get into their own soulmate bonds.

“I’m not simping, George!” Dream feels a bit defensive, because he’s genuinely just curious. He has no interest in meeting his soulmate right now. At least, that’s what he tells himself. He has his streams, and his friends, and chat. He’s fine.

[abbywastaken donated $10: dream why don’t you go back to where you felt the pull and see if you feel it again? that’s how i found my soulmate. okay luv u bye.]

“Thanks, Abby. Love you, too. Um, honestly I was in a pretty public place, so I don’t know if they would even come back anytime soon. Also, this is Orlando, right? Tourists are everywhere.”

Sapnap snorts, and Dream thinks it’s funny, since he’s in the other room. “Just say you’re a coward and go.”

“I’m not!” Dream says. “It was just a small pull, okay? It wasn’t even a big deal.”

He feels another lurch when he says that, but this one is in his chest. It taps against his heart, a quick reminder that it beats for someone else, and he needs to watch his words. “Okay, it was a big deal. Sort of. I’ll go tomorrow, okay chat?”

Chat is spamming all types of messages, from encouragement to jealousy. Dream manages to read off a few donos and create his first nether portal of the stream. He answers as they appear, eyes scanning for a fortress. “No, I didn’t see them… I’m not telling you guys where I was, that’s weird… I’m wearing a sweatshirt and jeans… Hi, Sarah and Patrick…”

He trails off as the donos do, and works at getting blaze rods. George is talking about a riddle he just learned, and he’s trying to trick Sapnap into saying something stupid.

Lost in his own thoughts, he finally closes the stream after a hasty goodbye. “What if I missed my chance?” He asks the two boys on the other line.

“It’s a string of fate, Dream,” George says. “You didn’t miss your chance.”

“Maybe they saw how ugly you are and ran away,” Sapnap says, completely joking, but the thought lingers in Dream’s head.

Did they feel the tug, and run away?

You pour cereal for yourself, and when your brother shuffles into the kitchen, you make him a bowl as well.

He’s eleven, and as little brothers go, he’s pretty chill. Aside from the inappropriate jokes and hogging the bathroom when you have to get ready for work, you like hanging around with him.

You pass him his bowl, and he grins. “I’m gonna watch Dream’s new video on the TV, since mom’s not home.”

You furrow your brows. Dream must be one of the dozens of streamers he likes. Maybe one of his friends will be in chat with him, and you will be able to connect a voice to a face. “Can I sit with you?”

He gives you an odd look, and it’s true, you don’t ask to watch videos with him often. “I guess.”

You eat a spoonful of cereal and settle into the couch while he gets everything ready. He clicks on a lime green icon of a little white blob man, and when the first video appears, you’re taken aback by the voice.

That’s the voice you heard. It’s this one, out of all the random men yelling about a block game. It’s Dream.

“Why doesn’t he show his face?” You manage, wanting information about the person that shares your string.

“What?”

“Like, he’s handsome, right? Why doesn’t he have a facecam?”

Your brother snorts. “Handsome? He’s never shown his face, Y/n. Don’t you know who Dream is? He’s like, super famous.”

“Oh.” You think of his golden hair, as sunny and soft as the glow around his entire being. His voice right now, joyous as he gets chased by his friends. “I mean, I don’t keep up with streamers.”

He begins to explain Dream and his friends, along with lore in their role play server, and it’s all interesting enough that you sit and listen, holding on to the little bits of information you can collect about your soulmate.

You file these facts in a secluded corner of your brain and try to make a whole person, along with the hair and the laugh and the intense music he plays as he gets hunted by his friends.

By nightfall, you’re following all of his socials and binge-watching his old streams, holding on to the way he speaks to his friends, and the fond way he replies to donos.

[dreamwastaken is live!]

You click on it, bundled underneath your covers as if someone might see you and find out your secret.

“Hi, chat! I know I was just live yesterday, but I cut it too short and wanted to come talk to you guys.”

He uses his avatar to wave at the screen, and it’s kind of an adorable sight.

[gogysimp donated $25: did you go see your soulmate?]

Your heart stops. Does he know? Did he see you? Or even worse, has he already found someone else, and he just hasn’t severed the tie?

“No!” Dream’s laugh pulls you out of your worries. “I was busy with meetings today, actually. And I was too nervous. Sapnap also refused to come with me, so I’m just going to go another day.”

So he didn’t see you. He just knows you were there.

You click the donate tab before you can stop yourself.

[y/n donated $1: would you reject your soulmate if you didn’t like them?]

Dream mumbles the question, and you try to ignore the way your heart deflates when he skips saying your name. “I don’t think so,” he states plainly. “I mean, logically, a soulmate would be your other half, so I wouldn’t not like them. But I know some people just don’t click, or there are other issues. So, I don’t know. I guess the only thing I can say is that I don’t want to reject them. And I hope they don’t reject me. I mean, imagine finding out your soulmate is a Minecraft Youtuber. That would be pretty weird…”

You giggle to yourself as he trails off and answers another donation. So he’s against rejection. Okay. Maybe you have a chance.

[kyra donated $60: i’m your soulmate.]

“Meet me where you felt the tug, then,” Dream says sassily. “Chat, don’t be weird, okay? I can’t control who my soulmate is, and I don’t want you guys to exclude them if they become a pat of my life.”

Oh, you think. So his chat is vocal about their opinions, and apparently they mean a lot to him. You shiver despite your warm position and imagine how annoying you might seem to his loyal viewers: someone who only knew about him because of their brother.

Insecurity pushes against your chest, so you close the stream and push your phone away, hoping to forget this ever happened, that maybe you won’t have to deal with the inevitable if you don’t think about it.

Yogurt Barn isn’t the first place on your list of dream jobs, but it has decent pay and helps you pay off student loans, so you appreciate it nonetheless. The teal sweatshirt they gave you as a uniform keeps you warm as you scoop the frozen treats.

Your coworker, a girl named Madison, is busy manning the counter, so you check each flavor and refill the ones running empty.

“Can I ask you a question?” Madison met her soulmate, Anna, only days after she got her string. It was a textbook romance, two people meant for each other, no doubt in anyone’s mind. She might be able to help you now. That is, if you can even admit to who your soulmate is.

“What’s up?”

“I felt the tug,” you say, avoiding her eyes in favor of restacking the medium cups.

“No way!” Madison is perky in a way that makes you want to be included. You like this about her. “Did you see them? Did you talk to them?”

“He—” You want to say that the part of him you saw was perfect, enough to keep you up when you should be dreaming. But reality is nothing if not disappointing. “I ran.”

“Y/n…” Madison gives you a stern look — like a mother finding out their child didn’t defrost the chicken in time. “Why would you run?”

“I don’t want to be rejected.” The magenta swirls painted onto the walls are a stark change to the clay sidewalks of the strip mall. “And before you say he wouldn’t… It’s happened to my cousin. It’s possible.”

Madison frowns. “But that can’t be the only reason, right? I mean, we all know someone who has been rejected. It’s usually not the end of the world for them.”

“He’s a famous streamer,” you blurt, and you’re thankful the shop is as empty as it is. Just the words themselves sound fake.

Madison snorts. “Like, gaming? That’s what’s holding you back? He’s a gamer?”

“I don’t care that he’s a gamer!” You hiss. “I care that he has a loyal fanbase who more than likely all want to be his soulmate!”

“You can’t say that for certain,” Madison says. “I mean, everyone knows about the soulmate system. If you watch someone and don’t feel the pull, you know they aren’t your soulmate, right? So why wouldn’t they accept you?”

“I don’t know,” you say. “I’m just scared. I mean, he’s got this huge following and everything and I’m just me. I work in a yogurt shop for goodness’ sake.”

You head into the back to grab more cups, and the bell rings, signaling a new customer.

“Welcome to Yogurt Barn, what can I get for you?” Madison’s customer service voice pricks your ears.

You sift through the boxes to find the smaller cups and listen to the customer’s order. “Can I have a strawberry cone?”

Your string pulls, that same familiar voice filling your head, not on the screen but once again just a few feet away. He’s infiltrating your life, so close you could reach out and touch him, but it’s such a terrifying thought that you set down the cups.

You tear off your apron, and run into the break room to grab a water and calm yourself down.

It’s ten minutes before Madison comes back to find you. “Hey, are you okay? You disappeared.”

You take a deep breath and stare at the poster on the wall. It’s brightly colored, with a walking yogurt cup waving and reminding employees to wash their hands before scooping. “That was him. The guy— the pull— Dream— I can’t— Does he know? Is he following me?”

“It’s okay,” Madison runs her hand down your back. “It’s okay. He isn’t following you. When the pull starts it tends to draw the couple together until they meet. He probably doesn’t know it’s you.”

You nod and take your breaths in gulps. “Okay. Yeah, you’re right. You’re right.”

“Why don’t you go home early, okay?”

Dream is live again.

Fresh out of the shower, you pull a t-shirt over your body and burrow into your blankets. Earbuds in, you try to focus on the sound of his voice, ignoring every ounce of anxiety that’s been riddling your mind.

“Hi, chat. I’m gonna practice speed runs again. I think George is joining soon.”

You open the chat and scroll through the emotes, clicking the ones you like and sending them, just to calm yourself down.

[kylo donated $5: did you find your soulmate?]

Dream laughs. The sound makes your chest tighten with longing. Your fingers ache. “Actually, I went to the place I felt the pull again. I dunno what I was expecting, but they didn’t show up. But after that, I was running some errands and I felt it, chat! I felt the pull again.”

He trails off while his character starts to look for a lava pool. “I feel discouraged but I don’t want to like, chase them, you know? I don’t want to scare them off.”

You click the donation tab again.

[y/n donated $1: maybe your soulmate heard your voice and got scared of you because they watch your videos.]

It’s not the total truth, but it might help him sleep better. You don’t want him to feel discouraged, but you can’t bring yourself to follow the pull.

“That could be a possibility…” Dream crafts a portal and sends his character through. “But I wish I could talk to them. I wish I could tell them that it’s okay. Like, we don’t have to rush into anything.”

[y/n donated $1: They probably wish they could talk to you too]

“Thanks, Y/n.” He sucks in a breath as soon as he says your name. The Minecraft pause screen appears and the sound of a discord call can be heard.

Your heart pounds in your chest. Something about him saying your name just solidified everything. Your arms feel hot and cold all at once, like you’ve just been thrown in a frozen lake. He has to be feeling it too.

“Chat, I gotta go, okay? I’ll try to stream again soon.”

“Hello?” A sleepy voice comes in through Dream’s earbuds.

“George! Their name is Y/n!” Dream is so excited, his voice raising a few octaves as he talks. “Someone donated with that name and I felt like, super weird. I didn’t feel it until I said the name out loud.”

“That’s crazy,” George says, monotone but supportive. “Do you think the dono is actually them?”

“I don’t know,” Dream scrolls through their past donos and quickly screenshots each one. “I mean, they definitely could be.”

He shares the pictures in their group chat.

George hums. “It sounds like they’re trying to tell you how they feel without admitting that it’s them. Where did you say you felt a pull?”

“At the park, and at the yogurt shop down the road.”

“So go there again. Maybe all they need is a little courage. If you feel the pull this time, you should follow it.”

Dream thinks about it for a moment before finally agreeing. He changes the subject to their next jackbox stream, and George is now happily talking about how they’re going to team up against Sapnap.

He goes into Sapnap’s room that night. He sits on his desk chair while Sapnap sits cross legged on his bed, scrolling through his phone. “Do you wanna get frozen yogurt tomorrow? My treat.”

“Hell yeah!”

The new strawberry-lemonade custard is a hit. Not only are the colors aesthetically pleasing for the teenagers who want a nice snapchat story, but there was a promotional coupon in the mail that has people lining up to the door.

“It’s not even that good,” you tell Madison while the two of you are on break. You’re both using a sample spoon to try out the new summer flavors, and in your opinion, strawberry-lemonade isn’t even the best one. “Blood orange is better.”

Madison wrinkles her nose. “No, blue raspberry is best.”

“It’s sour, though,” you say.

“Guys! Break’s over and you’ve got a line!” Your manager stares disapprovingly at the cups of custard the both of you are indulging in.

“We’re coming.” You toss the cup into the trash and walk out, scratching at the sudden itch on your pinky finger.

Pulling on your gloves, you grab a scoop and address the first customer, “Welcome to Yogurt Barn.”

“Hi!”

You still like you’ve been caught stealing on camera. You look up, hand clutching the scoop so tightly you can feel the cold steel through your gloves.

It’s Dream.

It’s him. He’s tall, and his hair is a sunshine blond, dark at the roots and curling beneath his ears. And his freckles… little spots all across his cheeks so endearing that you get a little distracted staring at them.

Then he’s talking, and you have to focus on his jade-green eyes, not his lips, which are a warm pink. “It’s you.”

You blink. Fear strikes your spine and you drop the scoop. “I gotta go.”

“Wait!” Dream calls, just as Madison shouts your name.

You exit out the back door again. Your heart is pounding against your chest, ribs expanding, and all you can hear is the sound of your name coming out of his lips, just last night through a screen.

“Y/n?” Only it’s in front of you, a few feet away, and he’s searching your eyes for any reassurance that you won’t run away again. That you won’t reject him. “That’s your name right?” He keeps talking, a nervous smile flitting across his face. “The donos? That was you?”

You can see the string now, red and blaring, tightening with each step Dream takes. It’s signing off your fate, for better or for worse, and you can’t fathom why he’s trying so hard, why he cares so much.

It’s hot in Florida but you feel cold, chilled to the bone. You straighten up. You figure you owe it to him to look up in the eye.

He leaves you breathless, eyes shining in the sun. “It was me,” you say. “You’re Dream.”

“Clay, actually,” he says. His smile widens, and it’s magnificently bold. He’s triumphant, just from your reply, and that alone gives you the slightest bit of hope.

“Clay,” you say. “I’m— I’m not— I don’t know if I’m ready.”

“You don’t have to be.” Clay is quick to reply, hands open and palms up. It’s a complete surrender — putting it all in your hands. “We don’t have to announce it. We don’t have to be anything at all, if you need time. But I would like to be your friend. If— If that’s okay.”

But you want to be close to him. The draw of your strings pulling each other closer and closer makes you want to wrap your arms around him. If he hasn’t rejected you, maybe you can do this. “I– I want to be more than friends, but I’m terrified of you rejecting me. I’m afraid of the string getting cut.”

Clay set his brows, “I won’t let that happen. We’re connected. Fate, ya know?”

“Yeah,” you breathe, and it’s a sigh of relief. “Okay. Maybe I’ll give you my number?”

“I’ll give you mine!” Clay is animated, holding out his hand for your phone. “That way you can text me when you’re ready.”

The red string shines like gold in the Florida sun, and when your fingertips brush, it burns with a satisfying warmth.

#dreamwastaken x reader #dreamwastaken fluff #dreamwastaken fanfic #dreamwastaken x you #mcyt au #dreamwastaken au #mcyt x reader #mcyt fluff

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halothenthehorns · 3 years ago

Text

How Do You Say Gods

Chapter 11: I RUIN A PERFECTLY GOOD BUS

'Is that better, or worse than ruining a useless bus?' Magnus grinned at his friend for the new chapter title.

'I'll leave that to the offender's discretion,' Hearth chuckled.

"Anybody taking bets on how he ruins the bus?" Jason grinned. "My money's on driving it into a building."

"Exploding it," Alex offered, "I needed more details the first time, hopefully this one offers better."

"Maybe he just vomits on one of the seats, they don't all have to be tragic demises," Nico offered with suppressed enthusiasm that was quickly dwindling. He was able to pass off less and less as time went on, he was starting to enjoy this.

"If you guys are done," Percy groaned.

"Oh, we're just getting started," Thalia promised, but continued on by grabbing the book from Percy to read this for herself.

...and twenty golden drachmas.

"I thought you said you don't get an allowance!" Magnus protested this abundance of wealth.

"Special Quest disbursement, and it is a loan, if you can pay it back with extra chores it would be nice," Will shrugged.

... might come in handy for non-mortal transactions-whatever that meant.

"Can you pay monsters to piss off?" Alex looked dubious.

"You can exchange the money for something, but not everything," Thalia chuckled.

... An overdose would burn us up, literally.

Alex still looked very pouty she hadn't gotten to try any of that. What did a girl have to do to instigate an emergency around here?

... both of which sounded pretty bad on reed pipes.

Percy was smiling for his friends gifts from their parents, the simple fact they'd shared such tidbits about that with him while they were hiking up the hill. His mom had never been able to give him many physical gifts thanks to Gabe, usually they just celebrated with cake and a trip out that day to the movies or something special. Now he wasn't even sure if he'd ever get that again...and his dad had certainly never given him anything.

... the tall pine tree that used to be Thalia, daughter of Zeus.

"Hopefully not an ominous foreshadowing of monsters being on your tail the second you leave," Jason muttered.

...a chauffeur's uniform, so I could only see extra peepers on his hands, face and neck.

"Not suspicious looking at all then," Alex nodded.

... drive you into the city, and, er, well, keep an eye on things."

"He says that every time, doesn't he?" Jason stated.

"Yep," Will agreed.

...Luke came running up the hill, carrying a pair of basketball shoes.

"My kind of gift!" Magnus seemed more thrilled than Percy for once, Hearth noticed, as he watched the guy clench his fist and frown at Thalia instead of cheering along.

... The shoes flapped around on the ground until the wings folded up and disappeared.

"That's even cooler!" Percy did his very best to sound as enthusiastic as Magnus just had, but somehow the delivery got lost as his voice cracked. Thalia gave him a grim smile and he hoped he was just imagining it.

... I don't use them much these days," His expression turned sad.

"All the yucking it up," Will muttered bitterly.

"He was a very good actor from what I've seen," Nico quietly agreed.

...A lot of hopes are riding on you. So just, kill some monsters for me, okay?"

"No pressure or anything," Jason agreed.

... "Oh, why do I want to go anywhere with you, Percy?"

"Technically she just wants to leave camp and you're her ride out," Alex chuckled at Percy's sort of put out look for his girlfriend's old flame. He couldn't help the pessimistic thought in that moment if Annabeth would have forgotten about him in however long he'd been missing and moved on.

..."I won't be able to use these, will I?"

"Huh?" Magnus looked as if someone had just tried to take his own shoes away in the dead of winter.

... that would not be wise for you."

"That's ridiculous!" Magnus argued with nobody in here. "That's like saying he should never jump a puddle or ascend a building, a little low-level flying surely can't hurt him!"

"Better safe than sorry man," Percy found that his unease for the idea somehow got worse though. He'd thought the idea of the flying shoes had been that, but now he was just starting to feel paranoid.

"How often do you really jump though, it doesn't seem to be a recurring problem," Alex snickered, and it devolved the two for a moment into making faces at each other while Thalia continued.

I nodded, disappointed, but then I got an idea. "Hey, Grover. You want a magic item?"

"Isn't everything he uses technically a magical item, you know, by being a magical creature," Magnus was grinning at Hearth as he tried to remember all those signs.

He missed a few, but Hearth rolled his eyes and corrected his wrist movement while smiling at his friend.

... the world's first flying goat boy was ready for launch.

"Launching yourself in the air is the coolest thing I've yet heard of," Magnus grumbled one last time. If Percy didn't want those shoes, he'd volunteer.

... flying sideways down the hill like a possessed lawn mower, heading toward the van.

The others all got a nice long laugh out of that, but Percy's vision doubled horribly for a moment, the low lit room suddenly a dark canyon and Grover being dragged into darkness- Thalia cleared her throat harshly before she continued, snapping him back to the here and now. It wasn't just her targets she didn't miss.

..."If only I had more time. Hercules, Jason-they all got more training."

Jason looked baffled for a moment before he realized Thalia wasn't actually referring to him.

... about to sound like a brat... or Annabeth's invisible cap.

"It's not bratty to hope you get treated as equally as others," Alex disagreed. "You've seen them with magic items from their parents, and the only reason Poseidon has claimed you is because he wants something from you now." She wasn't quite shouting by the end, but she sounded extremely verbose.

"Even if your dad did give you something, doesn't make it useful," Thalia agreed with a grimace, she'd never taken to using the winds in combat, the few times she had and her feet left the ground her butt quickly met it instead, so she avoided that 'gift.'

... black ink, removable cap. Probably cost thirty cents.

"The same one as before!" Alex looked as enthusiastic as a pen sword as Magnus just had about flying shoes.

"Unless this is Chiron's odd way of reminding him to write in the next few days," Jason nodded.

"Gee," I said. "Thanks." "Percy, that's a gift from your father.

"Well, that got resolved quickly," Nico tried to say snidely, but he was in fact filing away the fascinating information of how Percy had gotten his sword- before scolding himself about that again!

... the prophecy is clear to me now. You are the one."

Will saw more than heard Nico mutter something about the universe mocking him and wished he understood what he was going through more, it must feel like having the rug pulled out under you to find out so much later you could have been the child of some great prophecy and yet never even be told about it until after all was said and done.

... Chiron had thrown me a pen that turned into a sword. Could this be?

"He is a teacher, he could potentially have more than one magic pen-sword on hand," Alex amended.

"So long as it's not the red one, I'm not a good enough person to grade my own tests," Percy grinned.

...It was the first weapon that actually felt balanced in my hand.

"Congratulations," Jason said sincerely, "but I feel the need to caution, that's not a good thing. It's better to be proficient in more than one style of weapon."

"Oh, Percy's all about adapting," Thalia assured.

"Thanks," Percy told them both, though mostly frowning at Thalia as he tried to figure out if that was worthy of the thanks.

"The sword has a long and tragic history that we need not go into," Chiron told me.

"I disagree," Magnus said, "sounds like a terrible idea to use a blade you don't know the tragic history of."

"I'll write you a novel all its own when I find out," Percy still just looked relieved to have it as he kept the pen in his grasp.

... "Use it only for emergencies," Chiron said,

'Define emergencies?' Hearth scoffed.

'Cutting to the front of the line,' Magnus said without remorse.

'That was one time and Blitz used a plastic knife!' he defended.

... to any creature from the Underworld, provided they don't kill you first.

"Does it stop working if so?" Nico rolled his eyes. "Does it go instantly dull? Shrinks back to a pen and refuse to ever come back out?"

"You're giving that sword way to much sentience man," Magnus chuckled.

"I vote not finding out," Percy shrugged.

...Sure enough, the pen was there.

"That is the coolest magic item!" Magnus cheered.

"And it's just the tip of the iceberg," Thalia grinned as she twisted her bracelet around, but decided against giving them all heart attacks with Aegis for now.

...the lengths to which humans will go to fit things into their version of reality."

"A rose by any other name," Alex laughed. "I've heard it called Glamour ."

"Do our magic items not work on, um, mortals too?" Magnus asked, and wow did that sound weird to say.

"I personally haven't tried recently, but I'll let you know," Alex grinned.

'I can't tell if she's joking,' Hearth signed uneasily.

'It's safer to assume not at this point,' Magnus assured, she didn't even have the book anymore to excuse it and he still hadn't looked away from her in a solid minute.

...(Chiron said cell phones were traceable by monsters;

"Convenient," Percy groused, "my Mom always said technology would kill our brains, I wonder if she knew this too."

"Wouldn't surprise me," Thalia smiled faintly.

... nothing could happen so bad it would mess up everything, right?"

"Optimism," Will laughed.

...All we can do, child, is follow our destiny."

"Wise and sage advice that basically boiled down to I have no idea, have fun with that," Magnus sighed.

... you may be about to prevent the biggest war in human history."

"A spa could use that as their slogan!" Alex scoffed.

"He'll be snoozing the entire trip with that added to his back," Jason sighed.

...Just your typical summer-camp send-off by your typical centaur.

"I do love this world where that is typical," Alex smiled at the idea of being missed for the next place she left. It hadn't happened yet, but Chiron at least didn't seem like a useless place to start.

... I found myself staring ... every billboard and shopping mall.

Magnus had already felt that sense of disconnect from his world down here, it didn't really help they were trapped for an unknown amount of time. He forced his eyes to flicker down, to the bag Alex still had close to her side and wondered how much she'd threaten to kill him if he asked to see what was inside.

Her mismatched eyes caught his, and he lost the ability to speak.

...She gave me an irritated look. "It's bad luck to talk that way, seaweed brain."

Percy beamed as if Annabeth had just decreed she was in love with him. He knew she had a nickname for him!

"Is he okay?" Jason mock whispered, he'd never seen someone so happy to be insulted.

"Just fine," Thalia assured as she rolled her eyes fondly.

... "Look, we're just not supposed to get along, okay? Our parents are rivals."

"And?" Will chuckled at Annabeth's one track mind on this. He was very grateful Apollo had never made notable enemies with any of the gods, he didn't much like the idea of hating someone on such a silly principle.

Nico however fully understood where Annabeth was coming from, the Demeter cabin had always gone out of their way to avoid him at all costs, and they were just the start.

... Poseidon with his girlfriend in Athena's temple, which is hugely disrespectful.

Nico chocked that was all the reference Annabeth gave Medusa! One of the most notable monsters with a power attack of- he shook himself, but then nearly fell out of his seat as Will muttered, "is she in that game you played?"

"Um, yeah." Was he hallucinating? Nobody else in Camp had ever asked him about that.

"Thought so, she any good?" He'd seen that look again, the rise and fall of his excitement and then trying to suppress it again and was thrilled he'd guessed right.

"Very," he agreed with enthusiasm. Will was still watching him, like he was waiting for something else, but he couldn't think what and was very grateful Thalia hadn't stopped reading so he had to pay attention.

... "Now, if she'd invented pizza-that I could understand." "I said, forget it!"

"It's a miracle you two survived each other," Thalia laughed.

"I'm more disappointed she didn't tell us who the inventor of pizza actually is," Alex huffed.

... I ripped it down before Annabeth and Grover could notice.

Thalia gave him a curious look why he was still trying to hide that from them, but he thought the answer was obvious, no need for such a minor distraction as to his real motives going to the underworld, which that poster would inevitably lead into questions about.

... the eye on the back of his hand opening to watch us as he pulled out of the parking lot.

"So it's not his bus," Jason looked a tad disappointed.

"I'm grateful, I don't want to know how many chores I'd have to do to pay for another one," Percy said distantly, his mind not at all on what he'd left behind anymore in that direction.

...Smelly Gabe was probably up there right now, playing poker, not even missing her.

Even Will couldn't come up with a way to bring that into a good light. Even if Gabe did miss her cooking and the free income, those weren't things to be remembered for nor what Percy needed to hear right now. He looked like a lost boy who needed a hug from his mother.

...I stared at him. "Were you reading my mind or something?"

"I'm sure it couldn't have been that hard to work out even without following your thoughts," Magnus assured, that distant, forlorn look in his eyes only an orphan could hold.

"Just your emotions." He shrugged. "Guess I forgot to tell you satyrs can do that.*

"He what?" Magnus was quite proud of himself he only sounded casually surprised rather than flipping out, again.

"They're great counselors to the new kids, and ones that just came back from a quest," Will explained with a fond smile. "Helps them all understand whatever they're feeling is normal if the satyr gets the words right."

"I like that," Jason smiled, though he still wished he understood why Grover gave him the creeps. For no good reason and he felt more awful the less the feeling didn't fade, maybe he could do with a satyr to untangle how confusing all this was.

Magnus silently asked his elf friend if he could do anything like that, and he signed back with very downcast eyes, 'I wish.' It seemed a minor miracle he hadn't started to feel sick yet from the lack of sun making its way down here, but he was sure the feeling of his uselessness with magic resting in him had nothing to do with that.

...I nodded, wondering what else Grover might've forgotten to tell me.

"Part goat, eats tin cans and playing cards, can read your emotions better than any crystal ball reader," Alex ticked off on her fingers. "I'm running out of things this guy can't do."

"Preform magic with his reed pipes," Nico added, causing those who had heard such a travesty to laugh.

"Your mom married Gabe for you," Grover told me.

"No one needs a father figure that badly," Percy grimaced at what on earth Grover could be on about.

...She must've loved you a lot to put up with that guy, if that makes you feel any better."

It didn't, but Percy at least appreciated now he understood why. Guilt warred with practicality, he'd always known he'd been a burden to his mother and maybe if he'd ever run away she'd have finally left him, and yet, according to everyone else, he likely would have died instead of just putting up with some smelly jerk. His mom had tried her best, he couldn't imagine asking anything more from her.

... a lousy child-support check. He'd only claimed me because he needed a job done.

None of them were at all surprised where Percy's mind had landed, his trail of thoughts had not been leading many other paths.

...You will be betrayed by one who calls you a friend, the Oracle whispered in my mind.

'Calls you a friend,' Hearth interpreted with dwindling hope. Not necessarily someone Percy called a friend, it could be a false illusion from the start. Yet the problem stood, nobody they'd yet heard of had a good reason to pretend to befriend Percy either.

You will fail to save what matters most in the end.

Thalia regretted telling him that now, it had been the only words of comfort she had for him at the time but now she watched as Percy began to look queasy with distress and it felt as if there were no right or wrong answers except the one in front of her.

Shut up, I told it.

"Does telling the voices in your head to shut up actually work?" Jason asked a little desperately, he felt like he should be deaf by now as often as he kept asking himself the same questions.

"It helps, but so does keep moving on," Percy sighed with the exact same look of exhaustion, Thalia noticed.

... She could bounce the apple off her knee, her elbow, her shoulder, whatever.

"Now there's an unsung skill," Thalia chuckled. "We should put her in a tournament and get prize money."

... In one mega goat bite, our Hacky Sack disappeared-core, stem, and all.

Alex applauded that skill while Magnus's grey eyes went out of focus trying to picture such a thing, causing the others to laugh all the harder for this.

... but Annabeth and I were too busy cracking up. Finally the bus came.

"Uh-oh," Will said in a sing-song voice.

"Final calls, please place your final predictions now," Jason chuckled.

"Maybe I drive all the passengers nuts and they flee in terror," Percy played along with a mock threatening tone

"That has nothing to do with ruining the actual bus Percy, keep up," Thalia scoffed.

...sniffing the air like he smelled his favorite school cafeteria delicacy-enchiladas.

Jason would swear he had been mentioned doing that, right before those three old unexplained sock ladies had been seen. Grover had never said outright he knew the Minotaur was after them, but he had known something was long before Percy and his mom. Could satyrs smell monsters? How useful were these guys, and why was it making him feel worse the more he learned about them?

... a shapeless orange-knit hat that shadowed her face, and she carried a big paisley purse.

"Are the old ladies back with more socks?" Jason asked in concern.

"I've got a bad feeling you're on the right track," Nico agreed.

... my heart skipped a beat. It was Mrs. Dodds.

"Worse then, definitely worth ruining any kind of bus," Magnus groaned.

'At least there's only one of her?' Hearth tried to offer. Percy had beaten her without any idea what he was doing after all.

... Triplet demon grandmothers.

"That's, a sentence," Will said just a bit faintly. He took it back, hearing the grand epic tales around the campfire was much better than this torture of constantly wondering how Percy was alive!

... it sent a clear message: nobody leaves.

Thalia exhaled slowly before pulling air back in to keep going. It might not have been Hades, but he was really going out of his way to make it seem like he wanted Percy dead right now!

... "She didn't stay dead long," I said, trying to keep my voice from quivering.

Percy was finally glad Grover nor Annabeth were here to call him out on that epic fail.

..."I said if you're lucky," Annabeth said. "You're obviously not."

"I knew she was the smart one," Alex nodded.

... The three worst monsters from the Underworld. No problem. No problem.

"If only she'd said no problem a third time," Percy decided to defuse the situation by mocking Jason. "Then it would have been important, right?"

"Right, exactly," his laugh came across with far less quivering than his had at the time. "So this is a completely unimportant event."

"You keep those happy thoughts man," Will sighed.

..."You're a son of one of the Big Three. Your smell might be overpowering."

"I never thought I'd encourage you taking the Gabe approach, but here we are," Thalia groaned.

...Apparently she didn't see anything. She and her sisters kept going.

"That is one seriously powerful hat," Magnus ogled, he knew at least one thing he'd prioritize asking her when he found her, and that was the story of how she'd gotten this thing!

'Wonder how much it would cost a Red Sox fan to admit that,' Hearth at least tried for a smile, though he knew his friend had no care for sports.

... lashing their whips, hissing: "Where is it? Where?"

'It?' Jason latched onto the odd word at once. Why would she call Percy an it, when they'd called him by his full name before. He opened his mouth to ask what trick Thalia was trying to pull with that, before he saw Magnus and Hearthstone exchange a rapid hand fire conversation and Alex's eyes narrow as well. He hadn't been the only one to notice such an oddity, but sweat was visibly perspiring on Percy's face. He'd left his friends in danger and wasn't to care right now for such a minor detail to him of what exactly these furies were after, because it apparently wasn't him. He'd ditched them for nothing.

... I should've been named ADHD poster child of the year.

"Oh Percy, didn't you know," Will chuckled nervously as he kept firmly in his mind the last time he'd seen them both, very much alive as he tried for some levity. "We held that vote already and-"

"Not the time," Nico hissed at him with a sharper elbow to his side this time. Will folded and let it go.

...Still invisible, I grabbed the wheel from him and jerked it to the left.

"That's, one way to ruin a bus," Magnus said, still looking a little faint he might never get to see his cousin again after that!

... slammed the side of the tunnel, grinding metal, throwing sparks a mile behind us.

'Alex might even still get her explosion,' Hearth was looking paler than usual and vowed to never get in one of these Midgard contraptions again.

...Another great idea:

"You're not allowed to call things great ideas!" Thalia protested. She didn't know whether to kill Annabether or thank her for never giving such details about this mess!

"Another idea," Percy corrected in exasperation, as if he had any control of his thoughts during this mess.

... The door flew open. The bus driver was the first one out,

Alex scoffed at this disgrace, what she wouldn't give for a chance to step in and do something about this rather than hearing of such a catastrophe.

... an accent that was definitely from somewhere farther south than Georgia.

"If she is from Flordia, then we are in trouble," Jason muttered.

..."I liked you better as a math teacher," I told her.

"That is a very hard accomplishment," Will shivered.

"I believe it," Nico sighed.

..."Submit now," she hissed. "And you will not suffer eternal torment."

"Eternal torment," Jason noticed, "until I hear a good offer about no torment, no deal!"

...Annabeth got Mrs. Dodds in a wrestler's hold and yanked her backward

Magnus's mouth was hanging open now and Hearth poked him in concern if he was still breathing. Apparently, you could wrestle a monster!

...I swung Riptide and she broke open like a piñata.

"I'd rather have candy than whatever her spoils are," Thalia sneered.

"Yeah, that knitted hat would clash with your outfit," Alex nodded.

... she didn't have room to flap her bat wings, so she kept falling down.

"Teamwork!" Percy raised his hands in victory, but his smile was short-lived.

... I think it meant "Eat my pants!"

"A worthy insult, so long as they're brown," Will said, he knew his would be if they had to keep hearing about this much longer!

..."Our bags!" Grover realized. "We left our-" BOOOOOM!

"I don't think your bags survived that," Nico told Percy conversationally.

"To bad you couldn't walk away in slow motion," Magnus imagined.

... the bus in flames behind us, and nothing but darkness ahead.

"Okay, so technically, lightning finished ruining the bus," Percy defended. "So, no one wins."

"What a dirty trick, Zeus using the same thing twice," Alex scowled.

"Did you want to go again?" Thalia offered Jason.

"I'll," Nico stopped and cleared his throat but said again with confidence, "I'll go."

"Okay," Thalia smiled and tossed it to him instead and he caught it feeling far more enthusiastic than he probably should. Crap, he hoped Percy wouldn't notice.

PJOPJOPJOPJO

*What is with this random bit of satyr trivia that is never used again? It's like a pre-empathy link or something, which I have some stuff to say about in the next book, but I honestly wish this moment had just been left as Grover understanding his friend in that moment.

#PJO #Percy Jackson #reading the books #fanfiction #Thalia Grace #Jason Grace #Nico di Angelo #Will solace #solangleo #alex fierro #magnus chase #fierrochase #Hearthstone

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osomagine-san · 4 years ago

Note

I want headcanon about being friends with the matsu and basically be considered as one of their siblings!

No problem!!! First I want to link you to my last sextuplet platonic headcanons!! This one will be different but I didn’t know if you saw that one :) Also no readmore because I’m on mobile TuT

Osomatsu:

Literally thinks of you as a sibling. He’s surprised if you knock on the front door, and counts you as “one of us” when talking about the sextuplets. He sometimes forgets that you aren’t!

“At least one of us is getting their shit together,” is something he says a lot (assuming you’re getting your shit together)

If you have a job, he shows up and asks for free things, claiming to be your oldest brother. He no longer expects anything to come of this

All of them bother you for loans and treats, but this guy is by far the worst. That being said, he actually owes you the least because when he wins at pachinko, he pays off a little bit. Don’t tell Chibita.

But he IS like an older brother to you. He does his best to protect you if necessary, and gives (shitty) advice if you need it. The good thing about his advice is that if you do the exact opposite of what he says, usually things turn out okay!

Karamatsu:

Because you’re so close to the six of them, there are a lot of times where Karamatsu ends up being the butt of the joke. Sometimes, you’re the one making it, too

But it’s not like he minds all that much! Not when it comes from his brothers, and not when it comes from you. Plus, you always reassure him afterwards that you care about him a lot

Karamatsu probably thinks of you as his “other”— you know, Osomatsu and Choromatsu are close; Ichimatsu and Jyushimatsu are close; Todomatsu outsources, so he’s left all alone

During squabbles, if you side against him, he makes a point of being over-dramatic in a way that assures you he’s not taking it personally. Something like, “[Y/N], how COULD you? Siding with those demons over ME, Karamatsu? Well, I suppose that’s the way of the world... if you change your mind, you can always return to me, my dearest friend.”

He invites you to stay the night often. You decline. You’ve tried. Sleeping in a room with six other people is nightmarish.

Choromatsu:

Asks you for job advice, references, etc., a lot, but you have never been contacted once

Just like in the last imagine, he does try to emulate you to a certain degree. He can be something of a yes man, but only if he actually agrees with you

Hangs out with you when you’re hanging out with Osomatsu. It’s nice to have that common ground with him. Obviously, the shenanigans you get into as a trio are incomparable to the shenanigans sokudomatsu got up to back in the day, but it’s still fun

He loosens up a bit around you. It took a while, because at first, you were someone he wanted to impress; now that you’ve basically been adopted into the household, that’s no longer true. You’re not actually related, so he can be a tiny bit more honest with his goals with you. There’s freedom in having someone so close to you that you don’t also have to live with

You watch a lot of movies together, and then bitch about them. Neither of you are sure when this started, but it’s your favourite pastime, now. It usually takes about twice as long to watch the movie because of how often one of you pauses it to complain

He used to invite you to idol shows before you did the movie thing together! Now that you’ve got that, he has his own thing. He still sometimes invites you, though, if he knows you’re a fan of this particular group/person.

Ichimatsu:

It’s hard to discern Ichimatsu’s feelings about you, because he reacts to just about everything in the same way

That being said, if you’re just hanging out by yourself, he’ll find the nearest cat and drop it on you

Ichimatsu’s favourite way to hang out with people is in comfortable silence, so you probably find yourselves doing that for hours at a time. It’s so relaxing to just unwind in the presence of someone else, without feeling any pressure to strike up or hold a conversation

That being said, sometimes you find just the right topic and just the right wavelength and passionately discuss one subject for hours. It’s the kind of conversation that no one else can interject into. Sometimes, this means an argument as you try to force the other to see it from your perspective; but it’s never a fight

He’s the easiest brother to buy gifts for. Just get the guy some cat treats for his cats!

This is the deepest relationship Ichimatsu has, probably. The ability to relax in the presence of someone else is not a pleasure he’s able to have with any of his brothers— the key word here being “relax”.

Jyushimatsu:

Is a huge enigma. You never quite know what you’re getting into with him, or what he’s going to do next

Hanging out with him has taught you to plan around uncontrollable variables, which is a life skill you’ll have forever

At some point, though, you learn to predict his unpredictability. You never know what he’s going to do, but you know when he might!

He can sometimes ask really hard questions. Really existential, really weird; with anyone else, it might send you spiralling, as you think about all the ways you’ve wasted your life; with him, though, it’s all lighthearted. Everything is going to be okay, because these hard questions are followed by a ridiculous example

Yes you have walked him in the dog costume before. Ichimatsu told you it was “an honour— he doesn’t let just anyone do that, you know.” So you did it. You certainly have feelings about it, but... what are they?

Todomatsu:

Also thinks of himself as not having an “other”. Again, Oso & Choro are/were close; Ichi & Jyushi are close; and “Karamatsu’s always been kind of a loner.” So he drags you around a bunch, too

He thinks it’s so great to have someone he’s close to. He brings you to mixers because you both know that you’ll respect (and maybe even help) the other if you’ve made a connection. But even if you don’t, it’s still good to have someone you know around to shittalk all the stuck-up people that are also in that situation. “Look at them, acting like they’re better than us... well, they’re here, too...”

He’s the first person you tell about a job opening at your place of work. You heard he’s had a bit of experience, and honestly, he’s so social he could probably blend in anywhere. He makes you promise not to tell his brothers when he does apply.

He absolutely tries to act like your little brother. Whining, asking for things— and you play your part as the older brother of a twenty-something-year-old: “Totty, what the hell is wrong with you?”

He’s easily spooked. You’re happy to help him through whatever it is that’s getting to him— maybe it’s the dark, or he saw something out of the corner of his eye, or there’s a weird silhouette in the distance that turns out to be one of those big inflatable dudes— either way, you’re on speed dial and he’ll call you for everything like that. Regardless of time.

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irrlicht-writes · 3 years ago

Text

of Rex Lapis and the water's embrace

The rock persisted for centuries. Unaffected by the wind and the weather, it was to remain forever. And yet, recently, the tide had been rising and the water hit against the stone. Stubbornly, the stone would endure the fluid form and persist still. But in the battle of adaptability and endurance, adaptability would always win; and the water tore the rock down. The stone would crumble; and the pillar would be no more. The rocks fell deep, deeper than they ever had before and the water caught them gently in their embrace. | "Tell me a story."

Ao3

Please read part 1 here

The tea was too hot to drink.

Childe had seemed distressed when they had talked on the pier, and Zhongli was unsure of how he should proceed. He was aware that after he gave away the gnosis to the eighth harbinger, Childe had been upset. He only wasn’t sure why exactly. Zhongli had simply fulfilled his contract. Childe had no reason to be mad.

Regardless, Zhongli had decided to let him calm down a while before he would attempt a conversation again. Childe had a wild temper at the best of times and it was generally unwise to anger him unnecessarily. The boy would go into the wilds of Liyue and kill things to his heart’s content and then they could have a civilised discussion again.

Although, Zhongli had to admit he missed his dates with the harbinger.

It was hard these days to find someone who’d be willing to listen to him ramble in full.

He checked his tea again. It was still too hot.

As he sat waiting, he pulled the Old Stone out again. He missed Azhdaha. Seeing him again had simply reminded him of how much he was missing his old friend – but on the other hand, it had been wonderful to be able to talk to him again, to maybe even ease his pain.

He wondered if Childe would be interested to hear stories about Azhdaha.

They were so alike, in heart. Big and powerful – and yet they possessed a gentle heart inside of them.

Zhongli smiled at his stone.

He hoped that Childe enjoyed his gift. The sword that never made it into the hands it had been destined for – mayhap this had been fate. Maybe Guizhong had never been meant to hold this sword and perhaps Zhongli had been a fool for keeping it all these years. Childe would put it to good use, he was sure of it.

The boy was one of the most formidable warriors he had met in recent years. He hadn’t been what Zhongli had expected in the slightest.

I shall send you my eleventh, my dearest Tartaglia. The vanguard of my forces shall serve your contract well, Rex Lapis.

The vanguard of the Tsaritsa... Zhongli had expected an old man, rich in battles and weary of heart, much like Zhongli himself.

And instead, he had received a bright-eyed, young boy with a blinding smile.

A joke, he had believed.

~*~

“Hi! My name’s Tartaglia, but you can call me Childe! You’re Zhongli, right?”

There was a young boy standing in the Funeral Parlour. His eyes were a dull blue, and his unkempt hair was orange. He grinned brightly and extended his hand in a greeting.

“Her Majesty said I’d find you here. Are you hungry? Let’s go get some food!”

There was no waste in this young boy. He reached forward and grabbed the stunned Zhongli, pulling him outside into the sun.

“Haha, it’s so hot here in Liyue! It’s going to be hard to get used to that... maybe they have thinner uniforms here. Ah, I shall just get used to it, I guess.”

Hold on.

This was Tartaglia? This young boy was supposed to be the vanguard of the Tsaritsa? No. This must be a joke.

Perhaps... perhaps this boy was the assistant of the harbinger, yes? If the real Tartaglia might not wish to deal with the outside world due to weariness or simply because he wished to remain hidden, then Zhongli could understand.

Yes. Yes, this sounded very plausible. He must have hired this boy to be his public face, to allow him to work in the background undeterred.

He did not like being deceived but he would insist on meeting the real harbinger soon. In the meantime, he shall entertain this young boy.

“How can I serve you?”

Zhongli hadn’t even noticed that they sat down at Wanmin Restaurant.

“Hi! I’m fresh off the boat and I would like some nice Liyuean food. I’m not picky; just give me what’s good! What about you, Zhongli? I didn’t stun you into silence, did I?”

Zhongli blinked. “Ah... no, you did not, I apologise for my lack of manners. Miss Xiangling, I would like a bamboo shot soup and my ah, associate would take the Crystal Shrimp.”

The boy grinned at him.

“Well, I’ll trust you, then!”

Xiangling smiled and wandered off. Now, Zhongli wasn’t sure what to say. This boy truly had come in like a hurricane.

“Sorry for dragging you away like that, but I’ve only just arrived and the bank already wants to drown me in paperwork. I know we were supposed to meet tomorrow, but I just had to get away, you know?”

“The bank? You mean the Northland Bank?”

“Yeah! I’m supposed to supervise it a bit while I’m here. Apparently, the debt collectors have gotten a bit too soft around these parts, so I’m meant to rough them up again. I wasn’t told about the paperwork though, so that’s a bummer.”

A harbinger would not talk like this, correct? This boy couldn’t have seen more than twenty summers.

“You have knowledge about collecting debts?”

“Yeah, I guess. Before I became a harbinger, I’ve been a debt collector for a while. Not very long though, because I kept killing the clients. And, y’know, dead guys don’t pay their debts after all. But I’m a harbinger now, so who cares!”

Tartaglia laughed and Zhongli blinked.

This boy could not be the Tsaritsa’s vanguard in a hundred years.

“Wha – what are those?!”

The boy’s hand was cramping around the chopsticks.

“Those are chopsticks. You use them to eat your foot... no, don’t stab the shrimp.”

“Well, then how... how do you use them?! This is impossible!”

Zhongli chuckled. “They are an important part of Liyuean cuisine, Childe. Please learn how to use them.”

“How do you guys not starve to death?! What’s wrong with forks?!”

~*~

“Yaahoo, your tea is cold, old man.”

Hu Tao’s voice tore Zhongli out of his thoughts. He looked at the Funeral Parlour Director for a second before he confirmed her words. Indeed, his tea has gotten cold. He sighed.

“What’s got your panties in a twist to make you sigh like that?”

Zhongli frowned. “I do not –“, but then he decided to just not indulge her.

“Are there any clients?”

Hu Tao pouted.

“No, there are no customers. It’s so boring. Nobody dies anymore these days. Hey, where’s your Fatui boyfriend? He always brought in good business.”

“I have not seen Childe in a few days. Last I saw him he did not seem to be in the mood for providing business, Director.”

In fact, Childe had seemed very depressed, so unlike the boy he had gotten to know.

Hu Tao started to whine. “Boooring. Go to him and make him kill some people, I’m so booreed.”

Zhongli closed his eyes and took a deep breath. In, and out. In, and out. Just this easy. This child was going to drive him insane. Childe was not a dead-body-factory.

Although, admittedly, he had provided a lot of bodies for Hu Tao during his stay here.

The two of them even got along. Hu Tao had convinced Childe to partake in several pranks and in almost all of them, Zhongli had been the butt-end of the joke.

“If there is nothing to do, I shall take a walk.”

“Go drag your boyfriend’s ass back here! And bring some dead people! I need a booming business!”

Zhongli decided to ignore her as he pocketed the Old Stone and left the Parlour.

Maybe he should check on Childe. At least, he could inquire whether or not the boy liked his new weapon.

The guard at the door barely recognised Zhongli, as he was busy writing a letter.

As usual, the bank was relatively quiet. The local manager, Andrei, and Mister Qi were talking to each other, presumably about the latter taking on a loan. They did not interest him however. Zhongli headed straight to the bank’s teller, Ekaterina. She’s always been his go-to whenever he had been looking for Childe.

“Good day, Miss Ekaterina. I was wondering –“

“Master Childe is not with you?”

Zhongli frowned. “I – no, he is not. Is something wrong?”

Despite the mask, Zhongli could tell how worried she was.

“Master Childe has left early the last evening and when he did not return, I thought he might be with you – please tell me I haven’t lost a Harbinger. Oh, I can’t even imagine what they’ll do to me. Tell me he’s fine. I don’t care if it’s a lie, just tell me he’s making a bad joke and is harassing Vlad outside the door.”

Childe was missing?

“Are you sure he is not just out for a few days?”

She shook her head. “No, he always tells me for how long he’ll be gone, and we have a matter for him to attend to tomorrow morning. In fact, I only know he has left is because I saw him leave. I checked his office for any sort of note but there was nothing which leads me to believe he intended to be back by now. Oh Seven, what if something’s happened to him? The Tsaritsa will lynch me.”

Childe was strong. Nothing could’ve happened to him, right?

“I will find him.”

Without waiting for an answer, he left the bank.

~*~

The young fake harbinger was a friendly sort. Despite Zhongli’s irritation of not meeting the real harbinger, he could not complain about the company of the fake Tartaglia.

“Xiansheng, do you really need to buy these rocks...?”

“They are of a quality made, Childe, you shouldn’t let an opportunity like this pass you by.”

The boy behind him groaned but paid the merchant. Zhongli took the pair of Jade and pocketed them. Some would wonder where he’d put all of these wonders, and he would never tell.

“Shall we eat, then?”

The boy looked up and blinked at the sun.

“Yeah but we gotta hurry. I have a training session right after lunch and it’s hard enough to keep these rat-tags together at the best of circumstances.”

The harbinger Tartaglia, the boy meant. Often, Zhongli had been tempted to sneak after the boy, trying to catch a glimpse of his real contact. But he, perhaps most of all, knew how difficult it could be to maintain their secret identity.

“Is it hard to train new recruits?”

Childe shrugged. “No, not really. It’s more about what they expect, you know? I’m not the boot camp. I’m not evaluating them, they’re already in. They just have no idea how to properly hold their weapon the right way around. I swear, I have held so many rifles in my life that you’d think I’d be replacing my bow. And you know the worst? The Hydro Gunners keep coming to me like I know what they’re doing. Just shoot your bubbles, man! I’ve never had a tank like that before.”

“You hold a hydro vision, though.”

“Yeah, but do I look like a healer to you? I heal my enemies from their pain by ending their misery. But somehow they expect me to know how theirstuff works. Just hit stuff until it works, it’s not that difficult.”

They arrived at Wanmin Restaurant and Chef Mao came to their table. Apparently, Xiangling was out today, gathering ingredients.

“We’ll take the Chicken Tofu Pudding and the Cured Pork Dry Hotpot, please.”

Childe smiled at him. “We should take a walk sometime.”

“Childe, we take walks all the time.”

“Yeah, I know, but I meant outside! Outside the Harbour. I haven’t really been, you know? There’s so much for me to do in the city that I haven’t really gotten a chance to see the landscape. And I figured, since you know everything about Liyue, you’d be a perfect tour guide!”

That was true. Childe had been for about two weeks and he had seldom left the Bank without Zhongli’s company. A young boy like Childe would grow restless in a city like this, especially considering how he’d grown up in a small village surrounded by trees. So he nodded.

“If your training session does not take too long, we may take stroll tonight.”

The training session did indeed not take long and Zhongli presumed that Childe had simply left early since the real harbinger was going to lead the training anyway.

Brash as ever, Childe stormed the Parlour and leaned over the counter, staring expectedly at Zhongli. He was not deterred though and kept going through his papers.

“Yaahoo, who are you?!”

Oh no. He forgot about Director Hu. He would –

“Hi, I’m Childe! Are you the leader here?”

“Before you stands mighty Hu Tao, 77th Director of the Wangsheng Funeral Parlour! Are you the guy who keeps stealing my consultant?”

Childe laughed. “Indeed I am! In fact, I’m here to steal him away again.”

“Hmmm, you have the deadest eyes I’ve ever seen. You’ll be a customer soon, yeah? If you sign up now, I can give you a coupon.”

Childe waved his hand. “Thanks, but I’m not going to die here. If I do, it’ll be in the cold embrace of my home. But I’ll take coupons!”

Hu Tao grinned and shoved them into Childe’s hands. “Effective only if used within three weeks!”

“Well, I’ll be sure to drop some bodies, then.”

Zhongli stood up quickly before this could escalate any further.

“Childe, let us leave lest it gets too late.”

“Oh, right! Bye, Hu Tao! It was nice meeting you!”

Zhongli practically dragged him out of the Parlour before Hu Tao could respond.

“I had no idea the Director was that young!”

“She has taken over at a very young age, indeed. At some times, I think she does not respect the dead enough, but she is surprisingly loyal to the traditions.”

As Zhongli was dragging him away, Childe looked over his shoulder, seemingly deep in thoughts.

“Anyway, where are we going?”

“It’s a place called Yaoguang Shoal. You will like it.”

“Looks peaceful,” Childe commented and Zhongli nodded.

“There is little here for the Treasure Hoarders to find here. This place is not known for its hidden treasures.”

Childe crossed his arms and looked over to the shore.

“My siblings would love to run across here, I bet.”

“Oh?”

Childe grinned. “Yeah, it’s kinda hard to do that back home, you know? They could even run bare-foot here. You know what...”

The boy turned over and got rid of his shoes, wiggling his toes into the sand. He grabbed Zhongli’s hand and pulled them both down onto the ground.

“Let’s watch the sunset, yeah?”

Zhongli complied. There was, after all, no reason not to.

“What are these called?”

Childe had picked up a conch and held it up to Zhongli’s face.

“They are called Starconches. They say if you hold it to your hear, you can hear the longing call of the sea.”

The boy held the starconch up into the sky, looking at it. “I’ve never seen a seashell with a star on it.”

He proceeded to hold it next to his ear, looking at his toes that were still buried in the sand. He seemed to be listening intently. Then, he laughed.

“Oh, what a siren call indeed. It’s like a call from the very deepest depth, from within all the endless void and darkness at the bottom of the world. So enticing, but I’m not going to drown.” A moment of pause. Then: “No use in hiding back there!”

In a flash, Childe was standing upright, a spear made out of hydro in his hands. Zhongli had barely enough time to turn around to see the Treasure Hoarders before Childe ran over to them.

With each of his attacks, Childe’s weapon shifted fluidly between the spear and what seemed to be two daggers. The red scarf on his back was glimmering with pure hydro energy as Childe spun around himself to knock the Treasure Hoarders out.

The boy turned around, shouldering his spear and grinning at Zhongli. “Do you think that there are any Ruin Guards about?”

~*~

Childe was not on the Guili Plains. After hearing the harbinger had gone there just days prior, Zhongli believed he might’ve returned but there were no hydro traces of his friend.

Why are there no Glaze Lilies on Guili Plains?

Zhongli looked at the desolate plains. He still remembered a time in which the Lilies would bloom plenty. In his ears, he could still hear Guizhong’s song to them. He has never been able to sing it, no matter how hard he tried. But right now, she didn’t matter.

Zhongli turned around again to head to Yaoguang Shoal, hoping to find Childe there. Alas, he was disappointed.

Where else could the young harbinger be?

Maybe... the sword. He closed his eyes. He might be able to find the sword. He’s carried it for so long, there were still so many traces of himself left behind. But he couldn’t concentrate. There were too many thoughts in his head. What if the harbinger was dead? No. No, he couldn’t think like that. He wouldn’t die this easily.

Zhongli opened his eyes again and looked down. There was a starconch lying in the sand. He bent down to pick it up. A conch, carried up to the shore from the depths... Childe liked them. They were a lot like him, he had said. Zhongli had never been sure he understood. Geographically, Snezhnaya was not lower than Liyue. But there had always been something about Childe, something that hadn’t seemed quite right. His eyes, of course, but there had also been the general feeling of... of something beyond this world. Like the boy had been claimed by something else, but Zhongli had never been able to put his finger on it – not that it had ever mattered this far.

Why couldn’t this shell lead him to Childe?

Not wanting to crush it, he threw it back into the ocean. The water rippled for a moment, then the surface stilled once again.

But in the battle of adaptability and endurance, adaptability would always win; and the water tore the rock down. The stone would crumble; and the pillar would be no more. The rocks fell deep, deeper than they ever had before and the water caught them gently in their embrace.

Embraced by the deepest depths, the stone would remain forever more, gently floating away, having overseen the world for long enough.

And if the rock would ever tire, the tide would gently carry the stone to the shore.

Zhongli turned, and left the shore behind. The water was gently lapping at the sand, washing the starconch back ashore. The star in the middle of it shimmered in a gentle blue.

Everything inside him called him to Nantianmen. He was not sure why, but he was not one to ignore a feeling like that when he had deliberately been looking for it. There were a lot of monsters and Treasure Hoarders in the area, so that might be why Childe had been heading there. It was worth a try.

The Old Stone in his pocket gave a slight hum, but Zhongli did not have the mind to listen to it.

Nantianmen was eerily quiet. Normally, one could hear the Hillichurls running around, but now there was just dead silence. Something had happened here and Zhongli had the uneasy feeling that Childe might be at the middle of it.

Ever the eye of the storm.

“Not a step closer!”

The voice rung out across the field. It was distorted but Zhongli recognised the voice. It was Childe. He started running.

There was a mass of Ruin Guards and Hunters in front of Azhdaha’s tree. And there was something else. Something twice the size of a human floating in the air, with a cape made out of stars. Zhongli did not recognise the body, but it was Childe’s voice. And judging by the pile of destroyed Ruin Guards, he had been here a while. There were still so many...

“Childe”, he shouted as he ran over.

The boy... turned his head.

“Xianshen –“

He didn’t get to finish as a Ruin Hunter had been charging up his drill to promptly launch forward to attack him with it. Due to Zhongli’s interference, Childe was not able to evade the attack and got thrown back at the tree behind him. Zhongli saw the boy glow and shrink in size before he fell down to the ground, not to move again. He barely saw the jade sword fall next to him.

No.

Childe always got up immediately after being struck down.

Zhongli could only stare for four painfully long seconds before he decided to take revenge. He didn’t know what brought the Ruin Guards here or how Childe was able to transform the way he did or why any of this was happening at all – all he knew was that he wouldn’t let a friend die in vain once again.

Morax was far from dead; and these enemies would know.

Gently carried by the waves, the rock saw more of the world than the pillar ever could have. The tide was careful to not jostle it too much and to carry it great distances before slowing down, allowing the stone to rest.

Countless fish and sea-creatures would come up to the rock but the sea gently carried it away. The rock was thankful and it appreciated the small whales coming with them.

“I am tired,” the rock would say to the waves. “I have overseen it all for too long. But how will they fare without my pillar?”

The water did not answer, but it changed course. It carried the rock back to the start, so that the stone could see: nothing had changed. The pillar was forever gone, and in time, it would be forgotten. Rock would forever endure, until it would ebb away with the tide.

“Take me away,” the stone requested, “show me your beginning. And when you end, I shall end with you. Until that day, let your tide carry me until I erode away.”

As the Ruin Hunters lay dead to his feet, Rex Lapis took a heavy breath. Without a second thought, he spun around and ran up to the boy that was still lying on the ground. He was breathing, right? But there was blood.

“Childe,” he whispered as he gathered his friend into his arms and brushed a strand of hair aside. This couldn’t be like Guizhong all over again, he wouldn’t be able to take it. The boy groaned and shifted a bit.

“Xiansheng...?”

“Yes. Yes, I’m here.”

The boy blinked and slowly his eyes focused on Rex Lapis.

“Oh wow... I didn’t know you had horns.”

Morax didn’t understand, but it also didn’t matter. “Please. Are you in pain? What do I do?”

Childe laughed a bit. “It’s... don’t worry, yeah? It’s nothing a little herbs and bandages can’t fix, right? I’m more exhausted than I am hurt.”

“You are bleeding.”

“Oh believe me, I know. It’s okay though. Still, I... I should probably bandage it, right? I don’t wanna pass out.”

Morax sprang into action. “Don’t worry, baobei, I will take care of it.”

Childe blinked at him hazily as he removed his jacket and started wrapping it around the boy’s torso.

“...that looks kinda ineffective.”

“This is all I have. I will take you to the Harbour immediately.”

Gently, Rex Lapis gathered the boy in his arms to begin the trek back to the Harbour. Childe’s grip on the sword handle was steady.

“They were attacking the tree,” he said after a few minutes of walking. Morax could tell he was about to fall asleep.

“You were protecting it?”

“No, I came here because I heard about the Ruin Guards. But then I saw them attacking the tree and I... I didn’t want to, but I had to. It’s where... it’s where you sealed Azhdaha, right?”

Rex Lapis just nodded.

“I thought I could take them all on, but they just kept coming. Your sword did good damage but I needed something bigger.”

“Which is why you... transformed.”

“Yes,” was all Childe replied.

“Does it hurt?”

“Yes.”

Childe pressed his forehead against Morax’ neck.

“I wanna see the shore.”

“Childe, you’re hurt. Baobei, I need to take you to the Pharmacy.”

“Please.”

So Rex Lapis turned and walked to Yaoguang Shoal.

“Tell me a story,” the young boy asked.

“Please, baobei, let me take you to the Harbour,” Rex Lapis pleaded.

“You can. Just one story. Just tell me one story to fall asleep to. I won’t die. The tide’s not gone yet. I won’t go anywhere just yet, alright? Just one story, alright? Please.”

“Once, a long time ago, Rex Lapis encountered a young boy. The boy would never walk beside the god, but the god would always follow. The god was as steady as stone, but the boy was like the tides, ever-changing, ever-evolving and forever coming back.

Rex Lapis would oversee his country for eternity, and always he would watch the waves, wondering just when they would erode him. Perhaps, the god thought, perhaps erosion would not be the worst if it meant flowing like the tides.

After all, the boy would gift him a starconch, telling stories of a far-too-distant shore.”

In his arms, Childe had fallen asleep. The water was gently lapping at their feet and a starconch was washed ashore. Rex Lapis picked it up and put it gently into Childe’s arms. Carefully, he picked the young boy up and made the long walk back to Liyue Harbour.

Behind him, there was a singular rock carried by the waves.

As Zhongli and Childe disappeared from view, so did the rock vanish as if it had never been there.

#genshin impact #zhongchi #genshin childe #genshin zhongli #hurt/comfort #fanfiction #genshin tartagalia #irrlicht writes #tartali

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teaspoon-full-of-sugar · 5 years ago

Text

edge

pairing: harry styles x reader (au)

warnings: smut, dom/sub, exhibitionism, degradation, spit play, choking, face fucking, spanking, ring kink (if that’s even a thing ..?), orgasm denial, unprotected sex, subspace, aftercare, very fluffy and cheesy ending (like seriously so cheesy and cliche pls don’t bully me i didn’t know how to end it)

word count: 4.7k

synopsis: harry and y/n are a cam couple

author’s note: i hope you enjoy! xx all the love

masterlist

—

It started by accident, really, with a simple, offhand comment one night.

Already two-and-a-half bottles of wine deep, Y/N was close to tears with one glance at their pitiful bank account, and Harry was trying his best to comfort her and assure her that everything would end up fine, but he had absolutely no way to promise her that. Their part-time jobs did very little to cover their monthly expenses, and their next loan payment for school was coming up; needless to say, they were feeling overwhelmed.

And what better to do than drink and complain about your problems when you’re feeling overwhelmed?

“Maybe I should go into porn,” she sighed, and he rubbed his hand under her shirt, trying to soothe her. They knew that they were taking a risk moving across the world for uni, with no backup plan and nothing to fall back on, but in the end, it will, hopefully, be worth it. In the end, they would have a brighter future, despite the mountain of debt, but the middle part, the part where they struggle and contemplate giving up, is so difficult to get past.

“I—I’d do it with you,” he hiccuped, resting his head against her shoulder.

“Maybe we should do our own videos,” she said, “I heard that people can make a lot of money doing that.” Not noticing that he had gone quiet, she continued, laughing and raving. “Could you imagine? Oh, what if we did one of you going down on me? Harry, babe,” she moans lightly, “that would be hot.”

He smiled widely, eyes nearly rolling into the back of his head at the thought; he felt a rush of blood in his groin. They had talked about recording themselves and posting it online before, so the idea wasn’t something they were unfamiliar with, but it normally only happened when they were tipsy, and they never talked about it in any detail like she was. Now, the thought of her recording him between her legs or vice versa, for them to enjoy over and over, made arousal burn in his belly. He could imagine how the camera would shake as she came on his tongue, her hips bucking wildly, hand pulling at his hair. He holds back a moan.

“That would be so hot,” he said, “we should totally do it.” He downs the rest of his wine and pulls out his laptop.

“No,” she giggled, “no, no…”

“‘M doin’ it,” he said.

“Don’t do it,” she argued weakly, making no actual move to stop him. While she seemed to be on the fence about the idea, she had a slight grin on her face, her heart nearly racing out of her chest.

“We are so doing this,” he said, exploring the page. He gasps suddenly and taps on her leg, making her nearly spill the glass of wine. “Y/N, Y/N, Y/N—”

“What? What? What?” She mocked him. With mischievous smirk on his face, he faces her, a slight purple hue to his lips.

“What if we did cam?”

And the rest is history.

Now, they dedicate their Friday nights to do cam videos. It started off as something they did on special occasions, quick little teasers that lasted no longer than ten minutes, but they ended up getting a lot of money for it. It helped pay their school loans and get a head start on their savings, and it gradually turned into a regular occurance.

By the time they are ready to begin their live one evening, it’s nearing ten o’clock. They’re on their bed, pillows and comforter long gone, leaving nothing but faded floral sheets, stretched tautly beneath them. Y/N is nestled into his side while Harry’s on his knees and fiddles with the computer, brows pulled together and lips puckered slightly. She’s tired, her swollen eyelids closing every few seconds. He kisses her forehead, wrapping an arm around her. Their laptop, with the main webcam, is propped up on a stool right behind the footboard, and the secondary camera, a cheap handheld camcorder connected to the computer with flimsy wires, which is used for close up shots, is thrown off to the side. Harry leans back on his heels.

“Ready?” He asks with a teasing smile. Even with such a small gesture, his grin is still infectious, with cute little dimples and laugh lines. She returns the smile. It’s a redundant question at this point, whether or not she’s ready, but Harry asks every time. It never felt like a chore; it was something they both enjoyed, and if they were to grow tired of it, they would stop. They were finally financially stable enough to be able to make the decision.

While initially they decided to start doing cam for the money, it became something that they both enjoyed doing. She always got this little rush of excitement in the seconds before they finally went live. This was the last moment of secrecy they would have for the next hour or so. To many, the thought of some strangers watching her and Harry at their most intimate would make them apprehensive, but she always got this exhilaration from it.

“Always,” she says, stealing one last kiss from him.

It’s a tradition of theirs to hit the “Go Live” button together, cheesy as it is, and tonight is no different. Their faces light up the screen, and they both grin, arousal building with each thrilling second. There is only a moment of calm before dozens of familiar usernames flood the screen.

“See some new ones,” Harry comments under his breath. She rests her cheek against his shoulder, toying with the rings on his fingers. The introduction part is always the most awkward; there is no decorum or set way that they have to be done, and not feeling comfortable using their first names, she and Harry found it difficult to find their rhythm and interact with the viewers. It felt a bit unforthcoming for them to just dive in without saying anything.

“What are we feelin’ tonight, lovie? Soft and vanilla or rough and dirty?” Harry asks, like he normally does.

Comments fill the screen; a lot of them describe what they would do if they were there, but most of them have similar responses: rough and dirty.

The couple very rarely genuinely ask the viewers what they want to see because the most important thing, to them, is that they are enjoying it. What’s the point of doing it if they aren’t enjoying themselves? Sure, they sometimes cater toward the audience (that’s the easiest ways to make any money), but for the most part, they stick to what they both know the other would enjoy. Harry gives her a soft smile, leaning in a little closer. No matter what she wants, it’s all the same to him; as long as he is with her, he likes just about everything.

“Rough and dirty,” she smirks, tongue curling over her teeth teasingly. “I want you to fucking wreck me.” She whispers that part, low enough for only Harry to hear. He hums appreciatively, leaning back.

Ding!

“Be careful what you wish for.”

He kisses her, rough and gnawing, their teeth knocking together with his tongue slipping through, gently prying her lips apart. He bites on her tongue, and she lets out a small whimper, trying to hold off a smirk. Even after all this time being together, since they were just teens, he still knows what makes her tick and ache and melt; he knows exactly where to kiss and bite and lick to make her fall apart. She tucks her arms beneath his own, draping tightly around his waist, her fingertips tracing along the plain of his back, and he shivers.

His hand wraps easily around her throat, another thing he found early on that she enjoyed. He can feel her breathing pick up. She tugs at his bottom lip, suckling at the skin. He digs his fingers deeper into her neck, pressing harshly onto her pulse point. Eyes rolling back, she moans, strained and muffled, breaking slightly, and wraps her hands around his wrist.

“Open,” he beckons, and she does as best as she can, jaw still confined within his strong grasp. Her tongue dips out, ready and willing. “Good girl,” he says, loosening his grip on her throat. A breath of air slips past her swollen lips. Spit dribbles out from his puckered lips onto her greedy tongue. She closes her mouth quickly to keep it all in, his hand tightening around her neck once again. She sighs, head tipping back.

“You know the rules, babylove. Don’t swallow.”

“Mhm,” she nods, voice muffled. Her fingers dip into his boxers, nails tracing over the inked skin. She can trace the outline of his tattoos from memory at this point, every curve, point, and shadow etched in her brain. She pinches the extra skin at his abdomen lightly, and he smiles, pressing a kiss to her swollen lips.

“Wan’ my cock, huh?” He raises a brow. “Should I make you beg?

Ding! Ding!

“No,” she mumbles, pouting slightly. “Wanna make you feel good.” He hums appreciatively, tapping her cheek lightly.

“Taught you well, lovie,” he says. “Down.” He guides her onto her onto her elbows as he adjusts onto his knees, her hands moving back under the elastic band, the tips of her fingers teasing his skin. “Le’ me see,” he coaxes, fingers tugging on her chin. Sure enough, his spit is still in the divot of her tongue. “Good girl, you can swallow now.”

Ding!

Her fingers tease up his thighs and into his boxers, cupping his balls suddenly. He bites his lip, slapping her on the cheek. It’s not enough to do anything more than a slight burn, but it leaves her tingly with her eyes fluttering closed.

“Don’t be greedy, slut,” he spits, yanking her head back by her hair.

“I’m sorry,” she says, “Just want you so bad.”

She tugs his boxers down, but only enough for his hard cock to slip out. She normally starts off slow, teasing him until he can't take it anymore and pushes her all the way down, using her as he pleases. That’s not the case tonight. A part of her wants to take control, to suck him until he’s nearly falling apart, his knees weak. She takes nearly all of him in her mouth, and he gasps with surprise, his hands combing through her hair, guiding her. She gags on him, her bottom lip pressed tightly to his balls. He tugs her back.

“Watch the teeth,” he hisses. She gasps for air, lips lingering on the red, nearly purple, tip. His hips buck. He breathes out through gritted teeth, shaky and heavy.

“Sorry, just wanna make you feel good,” she says, pressing a wet kiss to his hip. She runs her tongue over the divot of his hip bone.

“Want me to fuck your mouth, lovie?” He asks, his fingers tracing over her tender lips. She nods, and he can feel her trying to move, but he holds her back by the hair, grip tight. “Beg,” he says, brows cocked.

“Please, H, want you to fuck my mouth, use me,” she moans, mouthing over the head of his cock. He holds himself steady, teasing her, just barely letting her feel but not allowing her to fully take him in her mouth. A pool of spit slides down her lips and into his hand, wetting the skin even more, before it falls onto the mattress. Her hands travel up the back of his thighs and onto his partially clothed bum, giving him a cheeky squeeze.

“M’kay, relax, babylove,” he says, brushing flyaways from her forehead, the skin already sticky with sweat. “Hold still and look at me. You know the rules.” She looks up at him, wide eyes never breaking from his as he guides his cock down the length of her throat, squeezing and stroking. She barely winces as he thrusts his hips, shoving himself deeper with every move. Her tongue runs along the bottom ridge of his cock, tracing every vein.

Ding!

She squeezes the skin of his thighs, guiding him further down her throat. The filthy wet sounds make her clit throb and her arousal seep into the sheets. There’s absolutely nothing better than seeing him above her, lost in pleasure, his chest flushing red, nearly incoherent: all because of her. There’s also something incredibly intimate about it as well; he always insists on keeping eye contact until there are tears in her eyes. With one hand gripping her hair tightly while the other gently caresses her cheek, he guides himself into her warm mouth. He nibbles on his lip.

“Take it, baby,” he moans, stuffing his cock deeper in her mouth. He traces his fingers along her throat, feeling the muscles swell and contract beneath them. Saliva dribbles from her lips, down her chin and the length of his shaft. She chokes and gags, but she doesn’t let up.

She barely reaches the base, her nose only just grazing the curls before he’s yanking her back, a string of saliva trailing from the head to her swollen lips, which breaks under the force of her gasps, and his cock twitches at the sight of her looking properly wrecked, eyes wide, blown with lust, her lips swollen and wet from spit and pre-cum, and chest heaving.

“Bend over,” he says, tapping her cheek. “Made such a mess, baby,” he says after she moves up, running a hand over the wet patch that formed on the sheets. Like a good girl, she turns until she’s facing the headboard, her glistening pussy on display to their hundreds of viewers. She shakes with anticipation.

Harry doesn’t deter from his normal routine, not touching her until she’s nearly in tears. She can feel the heat from his hand hovering over her skin, and she can feel hungry eyes on her; a small part of her wants to shrink away, but with Harry right beside her, it makes her feel like the strongest, sexiest woman in the world. Harry finally runs a finger along her slit after a few tense minutes and roughly presses into her clit. Her hips buck into his hand, and she presses a cheek into the mattress, moaning with relief.

“Such a good little slut,” he hums. “So wet for us, baby.”

Us.

When he says that, her pussy clenches and a rush of arousal threatens to slip down her trembling thighs; she sinks further into the mattress, sliding down until her chest is pressed tightly to the sheets, and her thighs spread even further until the joints of her hips ache with overexertion, but the pain is welcomed.

“Keep 'em on or off?” He asks.

“On,” she answers, the feeling of his cool rings against her heated skin is comforting almost. Her stomach tingles when he slips two fingers inside her pussy, with his thumb massaging at the tender skin between her holes. He easily finds that spot inside her, the spot that makes

Her orgasm comes painfully soon, her clit throbbing and begging for attention as he fucks her so close to oblivion, his rings adding extra friction to her sensitive walls. The scent of her arousal is thick in the air as it slips down his hands, traveling either down to her belly or her thighs. She’s so close, close enough to taste it; she just needs one more push until her high completely swallows her, bathing her in a warmth that only he’s been able to give her, but she is, perhaps, a little too optimistic. With every helpless jut of her hips, the more frequent moans, and the tightening of her walls, Harry knows the signs of her impending orgasm, but he can’t let her have it that easily.

A pained yelp slips past her lips when he suddenly pulls away and smacks her clit with wet fingers, the fervent climax drifting away until a dull ache, of yearning and lust, is all that remains. He spanks her sensitive pussy and lands two more on her bum. She groans, savoring the sting from his rings, cold yet burning.

“Not yet,” he says, running his hand along her prickled skin. He spanks her, harder than before, and she groans with pleasure. He wants to see the raised imprint of his hand on her smooth skin.

She can feel herself slipping. It starts off slow, a slight fog behind her eyes, and then it drifts and settles, spreading to her limbs. It feels like being high, swaddled in a soothing haze, and you can only feel yourself. The external earth doesn’t exist, and in that moment, it’s just her and Harry. Her world muffles, the sporadic chimes coming from the laptop ceasing, and the mattress disappears from beneath her, leaving her floating and vulnerable, with nothing to hold her other than him.

Harry.

He has always been able to make her teeter on the edge of pain and pleasure, and with her senses are in overdrive yet dulled at the same time, she feel that edge slip away into the abyss, with each slap delivered to her ass, they’re dulled just a little bit more. Like an addict, she yearns to feel the first one, the one that made her legs tremble, the one that sent tingles up her spine and a burning to her supple skin.

“More,” she says, inching closer to him.

“More?” She can hear the smile in his voice. She stretches her arms in front of her, back arching further than ever before. He lands another slap to her ass, lower and closer to her dripping pussy. He kisses the welts that raised over her skin from the rings, but she can barely feel them, nothing more than a welcomed prickle.

He spits on her pussy and slips three fingers inside this time, stretching her further than before, and with the extra friction from his rings, she tightens up almost instantly, the burning fire from before coming faster and stronger than before.

“Fuck,” she moans, long and drawn out. His free hand spanks her again, and she hisses, her arms giving out. Pleasure rushes through her veins, threatening to envelop her, and she can feel herself give in once again, sinking into him and accepting anything he has to offer. “Close,” she whines, but he pulls away again, slapping her clit roughly. She cries out, wanting to shy away from him, but her body betrays her, and she backs into him, craving yet another stolen high.

“Move t’ the side, button,” he says, tapping her leg, and she does, turning until they’re parallel to the webcam. He only teases the head of his cock through her folds for a moment before he slams into her with little warning, her warmth swallowing him easily. This is something he could never get tired of: the feeling of her hot, wet walls gripping him and of her arousal slipping down his thighs.

Ding! Ding!

His near brutal pace knocks the wind from her chest, making her drawn out cries of pleasure break and split. As he pounds into her, his hips smacking harshly against her raw skin, the remnants of her ruined climaxes leave her walls overly sensitive to every rough thrust, but she backs into him, meeting his hips, eager to finally come undone. He digs his nails into her tender skin, and she lets out a breath.

There has always been a fine line between pain and pleasure, and Harry knows exactly how to dangle her right at the very edge.

“Takin’ me so well,” he coos, but she can’t even fathom his compliment in her addled mind, let alone respond. He wraps his hands around her throat and pulls her head next to his. He wants to feel her, the heat of her breaths, the salt on her skin, the tremors of her thighs, everything. Her body grinds back against him, whether consciously or unconsciously, he doesn’t know. Her eyes are closed, features pinched, chasing her high.

Y/N can feel everything, every rush of blood flowing in her veins, every stroke of his cock inside her, every bead of sweat that drips from his skin and onto her back. She can feel everything, yet nothing at all; it all blurs together into a blanket of warmth and euphoria, and he’s at the center of it all: holding her and pleasing her and giving her everything she never knew she desired. She can barely speak, nothing more than a few broken whimpers filling the thick air, lost amongst his heaving breaths and the chimes from the laptop, which is at the back of their minds at this point.

She hooks her arm behind her, around his neck, her fingers carding through the sweat-drenched locks. She tugs on them painfully hard when he hits her weak spot, and he groans. Her heart is nearly racing out of her chest when yet another taunting orgasm tightens her stomach.

“Need cummies,” she whines, her words slurring, head falling to the side. He nestles his nose into the crook of her neck, hips grinding his cock deeper inside her.

“No cummies, yet, lovie,” he says. “Wait f’ me.” He can feel her struggling to hold her orgasm back, the walls of her pussy fluttering, milking him; he groans, feeling more blood rush to his cock when she squeezes him even tighter. “Relax,” he coos, scratching his nails along her scalp. He slaps her clit, making her twitch and buck even more, and he spreads his fingers around the swollen skin of her pussy, teasing where they’re connected. He lets go of her neck, and she nearly collapses without his support, leaning heavily on her elbows, back arched.

“Please,” she whimpers, shaking her head, “Can’t hold it.”

She slumps onto the mattress, her quivering knees slipping out from under her. Her hips buck, a long, drawn out moan slipping out as toe-curling orgasm washes over her, bathing her in warmth and relief and pure bliss. He comes soon after, hands gripping her hips tightly. Her shallow breaths are barely audible in the thick air, amongst a cacophony of chimes from the cam and his own heavy breathing. He rubs along her back, pressing sporadic kisses to her spine, following the ridges up to her neck.

“Babylove?”

She doesn’t answer, only a weak whimper and a sigh leaving her as she shifts beneath him, causing his softening cock to slip out, their releases pooling beneath them. He quickly closes the laptop to keep some semblance of privacy, and he tries to ease her onto her back, but she’s unresponsive, head nestled deep into the bed, but her breathing becomes more stable, muscles lax.

“Y/N?” She hums and turns onto her back. He cups her cheeks, trying to look into her eyes. They’re half-lidded, and she can’t seem to focus on much of anything. “Can you get up f’me? Need t’ get ya cleaned up.”

She finally looks at him, her pupils dilated, like she’s faded, lost in an empty mind. She blinks and looks down at his hands on her arms. Her brows furrow, and the tremors return, starting in her hands and spreading to her legs. They’re not pleasant, like before when she felt like she was floating; these ones make her blood run cold. Her high lessens, her head still foggy, but the feeling returns in her limbs, leaving her skin burning and bruised. When she meets his gaze again, there’s a sinking feeling in her stomach, shame and dread.

In her current state of mind, she mistakes the concern in his eyes for anger, and tears fill her eyes. She disappointed him; she was being greedy and dirty and bad. She covers her face with her arms to hide the tears that slip out, knees tucking to her chest.

“‘M sorry,” she cries suddenly. His heart stops for a second. What on earth could he have done to make her want to apologize? He tugs her arms away from her face.

“For wha’?”

“You said no cummies, and I couldn’t hold it—” Her face crumbles. “I was being a bad, bad girl.” She mutters to herself, biting her lip, which quivers pitifully. “Please, please, don’t be mad,” she begs, hands clinging to him. Before, she felt absolute euphoria, a high she didn’t want to come down from, but now, her skin aches, and there’s a pang of guilt and shame in her belly that she can’t seem to soothe. She doesn’t even feel it when her teeth break past the skin of her lips.

“Hey, none of that,” he says, easing her bruised lip from her teeth. He runs a thumb over her knuckles. “‘M not mad, never, lovie,” he reassures her. “C’mere,” he says, tugging her into his arms. “Look a’ me.” He rests his forehead against hers. He’s had to coax her out of a subspace only a handful of times, but she has never crashed this hard. Never has she been this shaken, nor has it ever happened during a cam. He just wishes he noticed sooner; he should have known not to go as rough as he did, especially when she was feeling tired to begin with. When she’s in her subspace, she tends to take it a little too far, thinking she can take more than what she would normally handle.

“Better?” He asks her after a moment, and she nods, but her hands still quiver at her side. “Be right back, yeah?” He lays her back down gently and goes into the washroom to draw a bath. When he comes back, he finds her with her hands over her face, shoulders shaking.

“Can ya walk?”

“Yeah,” she says, scooting up off the bed, but her knees buckle, and they barely make it to the bathroom.

“I gotcha,” he says. “Jus’ gonna getcha cleaned up, feelin’ all better.” Her bum, the skin raised with welts made by his own hand, barely touches the water before she’s wincing. There’s a tinge in his stomach, but he continues to help her in, holding her under the armpits.

“In ya go,” he whispers, nursing her like she’s a toddler. The water is hot and comforting against her aching muscles. The lavender oil he tossed in leaves her skin silky with a tingeful burn on her bum and thighs. She clings to his arm, which has now wrapped tightly around her middle, pressing into her tender breasts.

“Come in with me,” she says. He sinks to his knees and cups her neck, elbow dipping in the water.

“Be right back, button,” he says, kissing her forehead lightly, “Jus’ need t’ change the sheets.”

He returns not a moment later and joins her in the tub, washing her body with a sweetly scented scrub. She comes fully down in the bath, with his arms coiled tightly around her, one over her chest and the other around her middle, their fingers toying together. The water’s run cold, but they don’t make any move to get out any time soon, basking in the warmth of each other.

Despite how many years they have been together, he still finds it difficult to believe that he can be so comfortable with another person.

She puts her heart, body, and soul fully in his hands and trusts him not to break it.

He trusts that she’ll do the same for him.

And when she snuggles into him and presses a tired kiss to his cool skin, after he gets them dried and in their bed once again, he knows that there is no other person in the world he would trust more with his heart than her.

—

#harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles x reader #ellie writes #ellie writes smut #ellie writes fluff #ish #gif not mine #credit to owner

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renjunfromthestars · 4 years ago

Text

more than

Pairing: Mark + reader, Bestfriend! Mark, Childhood friend!Mark

Genre: Fluff, angst, honestly a little bit of crack LOL

Song recs: Best friend + Untitled + Waiting Room (Rex Orange County), Sofia (Clario)

Warnings: Mild swearing and mentions of alcohol

Word Count: 7.0k (my longest fic yet, wow!)

Summary: You’ve known Mark for all your life, and it only takes one drunken night (plus a little intervention with Haehcan) to think that you wouldn’t mind getting to know him a little better...

Notes: The fact that I actually had the patience to sit down and to write something above 3k words,,,,absolutely astounding, amazing, unique, never been seen before…. Mark is a little awk and always works so hard (poor bby), so imagining him as a super stressed pre-med major and oblivious best friend absolutely wrecks me thank you goodbye

----

When you first meet Mark, you’re eight years old, and it’s at church. He’s dressed in his Sunday best: a light blue button up, khakis, and shiny dress shoes. He looks stiff as your mother introduces you two, with his shirt buttoned all the way to the collar.

It’s not that you dislike him, but you think he might dislike you, with the way he avoids eye contact, eyes tracing the floor, your shoes—anywhere but your face.

You see panic flash through his eyes when his mom gently pushes him towards you, telling him to take you inside and reserve a spot in the pews while she catches up with your mom.

He shuffles awkwardly, and wordlessly, you follow him into the building.

The pews are almost empty, with the bulk of them being filled in the front by the old people that usually have nothing better to do on their Sunday mornings. Although your local church is on the smaller side, it feels unusually large with rows of empty pews, almost eerie. You shudder at shadows the walls make with the stained glass, and hurry to your usual spot towards the middle.

If Mark notices your apprehension, he doesn’t say anything. He’s oblivious, actually, not noticing your absence until he’s almost at the end of the rows. When you see him stop and search for you frantically, you stifle a laugh.

He eventually finds you, and after shuffling awkwardly between the pews, makes his way to you.

“This is kinda far, isn’t it?” he murmurs.

“Huh?”

“I mean,” he stammers. “I usually sit closer to the front. ”

You peer at him from the side. “You actually want to pay attention?”

He scratches the back of his head. “Well yeah, isn’t that the point?”

“I guess,” you say, looking at the ceiling. With the sprawling arches and patterns, the designs are pretty, you think.

“You should at least try, it’s kinda interesting,” when you turn your head to look at him he turns away. “Only if you want to, of course.” he adds, fidgeting with his hands.

When you tell him that maybe you will, you see him crack a small smile.

It becomes a routine, almost every Sunday, with you and Mark sitting next to each other. Whether it’s closer to the front or the back, it’s a whole debate. You usually give in, because when you walk in, Mark is already waiting for you in the front.

….

“Do you still go to Church?”

You’re laying on a green bean bag in Mark’s dorm room, procrastinating on the midterm paper you were supposed to get started on, well, a week ago.

You think for a second, hand raised to rub your chin, just to tease him. “What’s church?”

“C'mon dude, are you serious?”

“Barely,” you say, standing up to move to sit on his bed. “You should really get a new bean bag, it’s kinda deflated.”

Mark ignoring you, reaches over from his desk to fluff up the bean bag. “It’s because you sit on it so much.”

“Are you calling me fat?” and before he can defend himself you finally answer him, “I stopped going in like, middle school. It would be hard even if I wanted to, to find a whole new congregation, and I’m just busy. Also, it’s so boring, I could cry.”

Mark perks up. “Not if you go with me.”

You groan dramatically, and Mark chuckles.

“Good to know that you haven’t changed since you were eight.”

It’s just your view on church, that hasn’t changed since you were eight. First thing things first, you were 19 now, going on twenty. You’re in University now, your second year. It’s been a blur assignments, partying, coffee and term papers- you don’t have time to think about anything else right now. Except maybe actually starting your paper but-

Mark interrupts you midthought, breaking the silence. “Are you still with that guy?”

“Huh? Who? Yuta?”

“Yeah,” Mark responds sheepishly, avoiding eye contact.

You roll your eyes. “No, we haven’t been together for a while. It wasn’t that important so I forgot to tell you.”

You can tell he's surprised about how unusually calm you are for talking about your first serious breakup, but he doesn’t say anything, instead just scratching the back of his head awkwardly in typical Mark fashion. “He was an asshole anyway,” Mark murmurs.

“What did you say?” you ask, acting shocked. “Mark Lee? Talking shit?”

Mark, embarrassed, refuses to repeat it.

“I’m just saying, he wasn’t the right person for you.” he protests.

“As opposed to who? God himself?”

“I can think of a few,” he sighs, but you aren’t paying attention, instead laughing your ass off on his bed.

“You’re insufferable,” he says, standing up to open the door. “C’mon let’s go, I’m hungry. I know you’re not starting that paper anytime soon.”

…

It’s a routine, seeing Mark on Monday afternoons for lunch. Not Friday, because you were busy getting wasted, and consequently not Saturday, because you were too hungover. Not Sunday, because Mark had church, and you, well, were busy praying to God that you would be able to finish all the work you’d neglected over the weekend as a result.

“I still don’t understand why you choose the worst day of the week for this,” you say over your Kale caesar salad, pushing the leaves around aggressively. The University had a lot of healthy options, which you were grateful for. Grateful for you were not, were for the student loans you had to pay off every month, the exorbitant amount you partially owed to all the local and expensive organic produce the meal plan featured for the sake of being sustainable and health conscious.You could really give a rat’s ass about whether your salad was organic or not; if your weekends said anything about you, no amount of kale could help you (or your liver).

“It wasn’t really up to me,” Mark points out. “Maybe if you weren’t too busy being-”

“Ta ta ta,” you tsk, waving a finger around. “I, unlike you, actually have a social life.”

Mark frowns. “I have a social life.”

Mark definitely had a social life. He was popular, even. As popular as you can be, being a preoccupied Pre-med with perfect grades. Mark is likeable. It’s not like he doesn’t have the opportunity to go on weekends if wanted to, he just chooses not to, deciding to slave away at biological functions, orbitals, and lab results instead. Even now, as he takes his glasses off to clean them, you notice the imprint they leave on his face from how long they’ve been sitting on his face, and doesn’t take you long to find the dark circles that grace the skin under his eyes: he’s exhausted.

You frown too. “You should really get out more Mark. You seem stressed.”

Mark gives you a small smile after putting his glasses back on, and then resumes typing on his laptop. “I don’t know how going out would make me less stressed,” he says, distracted. “I would only be more stressed, knowing the work I have to do.”

“Yeah, but you're pretty organized.” You point your fork at him accusingly, kale falling to the side. “Don’t you usually finish things early too?”

“Yeah, I do.” he admits, and before you can press onwards you’re interrupted by a girl you recognize to be his lab partner.

Goggles in hand, you can see the marks they leave around her eye area, but she’s somehow still annoyingly beautiful, with her glossy straight hair and long eyelashes, but that’s not why you dislike her. She might be the most stuck up girl you’ve ever met.

“Did you do the calculations yet?” she says, turning to Mark. ignoring you. It’s only when you cough in your seat that she turns to you. “And hello, (y/n).” An afterthought.

“Hello Yebin,” You give her a wry smile. “How's the lab?”

“The usual.” she glances at Mark, who seems to be doing some finishing touches on said calculations. “How’s Chem 2?”

Boy, does she really grind your gears.

“It was fine, I actually placed out because I took it in high school.” Not to mention, it was a class for freshmen, and you were in fact, now a sophomore.

Before she can say anything back, Mark claps his hands in celebration. “Done! Sorry it took me so long, I just had to double check some things.”

“It’s no problem,” and with the way her voice drips with a sickly sweetness, you want to gag. It’s so painfully obvious. “Are you still down for tomorrow?”

Poor Mark, always oblivious, stops typing on his laptop and looks up in confusion. “Huh?”

You silently laugh at the expression Yebin makes when she realizes Mark has no idea what she’s talking about. “For our study session? The MCAT is just months away.”she reminds him.

Mark remembers. “Oh yeah, about that, I was thinking we could also invite-”

“Great!” she chirps, “See you tomorrow!” and with a flash of her white lab coat, she's gone.

Mark scratches the back of his head. “I guess she had somewhere to be.”

You roll your eyes for what it seems like the 100th time this week, anymore and they might be permanently stuck to the back of your head. “She definitely likes you.”

“Who? Yebin? No way.”

“Yes, Yebin, and yes way.” You fling a walnut from your salad over to his side, and he cringes.

“What is your problem?” he grumbles, and resumes typing on his laptop.

You drop the subject, because you know any talk on girls is completely lost on him. As you set aside your salad, you peer over at Mark, palm supporting your face. He’s focused, eyebrows slightly furrowed, with his lips mouthing over silently whatever science journal he was reading on his computer screen.

Mark has always been good looking, you think. You don’t know why you’ve never really noticed it before. His nose bridge gently slopes over his face, and his jawline is sharp, having lost his baby cheeks years ago. He works out often too, although he barely talks about it (maybe out of fear you’d tease him for being a gym bro). And with the way he’s so adorably awkward, It’s no surprise really, that every girl friend that you’ve met of his seems to be completely smitten.

Shaking your head, you snap out of it. It’s dangerous to think of Mark that way, you think. You’ve known him too long.

“My problem? I think you’re the one with the problem here. I’m surprised your hair isn't completely gray by now.”

Mark ignores you, probably mad at the fact you tried to start world food war three with him with a walnut.

“Hey.” you flick at his forehead to get his attention, and he flinches.

“There’s a party this weekend at Johnny’s fraternity, you should come.” Johnny, being both your long time mutual friend (who’s demeanor is way too nice to fit the stereotypical frat boy image, really) who has since stopped asking Mark out of respect for his “med school grind”.

“I’m already planning on it,” he responds, and you’re surprised.

“Since when do you actually accept party invitations?”

“Since yesterday, because I’m tired of Haechan bothering me about it.”

You silently cheer, of course, you expect nothing else from Haechan.

…

“I never knew it was so hard to get booze.”

“It’s not hard if you’re 21.”

Scoffing, you turn your head to face the boy across from you. As if he can feel the burn of your gaze on his forehead, Haechan stops typing on his Macbook and lifts his eyes to meet yours.

“No shit Sherlock, but last time I checked, we both weren’t 21.”

The sun had set a half an hour ago, and despite having spent the whole afternoon together, you and Haechan have had yet to come up with a way to secure the drinks you promised your friends for tonight’s pregame. With both of you being certified schemers representing your respective friends, you guess it wasn’t that big of surprise that the responsibility was left on both your shoulders. It beat scavenging alone, and spending time with Haechan wasn’t so bad either, when you two weren’t trying to kill each other.

It was already late, and Haechan had deemed Ubering to the nearest packer store that sold Soju (the sweet sweet liquid of choice) was too much work. You on the other hand, had dismissed that option for a completely different reason. The issue in question was the flimsy, borderline pathetic excuse for a fake ID Haechan planned to use at the packer store.

“Hey it works!” he protested. “You just act like you’re already legal and they don’t even card you. Easy.”

You roll your eyes as Haechan theatrically reenacts his last trip to the packer store.

“I asked him how he was doing, and he told me school sucks. I say to him, ‘Tell me about it, thank god this is my last year!” and as if to emphasize his next point, he flicks his wrist in the air, ID snuggled between his index and middle finger. “And I was on my way. No issue at all.”

“That’s because he didn’t even see your fake I.D stupid. He would’ve called you out on your bullshit in an instant.”

Out of all the different options available, you could not fathom why he chose his fake ID to show that from all the places in this world, he was from freaking Hong Kong. There were fifty states to choose from, other English speaking countries, and he chose to pose as an international student on a student visa. He could most definitely look the part, but after looking at the ID he proudly slaps on the common room lounge desk, you deadpan. The yellowish tint to the card was way too suspicious to be taken seriously.

“I wish we could just ask Mark,” you sigh, and Haechan looks at you like you’re stupid.

“He’s 20, ya dimwit.”

“I know, that’s why I said I wish. You have serious hearing problems.”

Haechan stops typing on his laptop to shoot you an especially heated glare, and you’re reminded again why he’s #2 on your fight list, right above Yebin. First place was taken by the girl you almost actually fought at that one University party a town over, wherever she is you hope she’s having a terrible day.

“If it were not for the rules of this land, you’d be dead right now Haechan.”

Haechan places his head in his palms, and flutters his eyelashes disgustingly.

“But you love me.”

“Yes, as much as Mark loves social events. Speaking of Mark, how on earth did you get him to leave his cave?”

“It didn’t take much,” and before you can call him out for lying, he shushes you.

“Okay, maybe a few days of nonstop begging.” Haechan says as his eyes dart across the laptop screen. You raise your eyebrow. “And I might have threatened to release pictures from the photoshoot his mom made him take when he was younger.”

“I expected nothing less from your evil, evil, mind.”

He scoffs. “Hardly. Just resourceful.”

Resourceful he is, because Haechan is the one who ends up finding a plug for the alcohol that night.

…

A can of four loko, a bottle of soju, and a few shots later, you should be hammered, wasted even. But after 14 months, 2 weeks, and 5 days into college, your tolerance is pretty high, so you’re really just plain drunk. Even so, you’re a little messy (no surprise). You’re not in a state to be trusted with any errands, so you don’t understand why Haechan asks you to pick up Mark along the way to Johnny’s fraternity.

“Why do I have to do it?” you whine, putting your hand over your forehead, and Haechan only laughs at your dramatic display of despair.

“Because Johnny messaged me that Mark isn’t there, and there’s no way in hell I’m letting him flake on me this time. ”

You point a finger at him, and he stifles a snort when you’re off by a couple inches. “Letting him flake on me, me, me as in you! It’s not my problem.”

But there’s no use in arguing with Haechan, and you know it. That’s why you find yourself stomping your way up the second floor of Mark’s dormitory like you’re in elementary school again, having just been scolded by your mom and being forced back into your room.

You knock at his door impatiently, and it feels like forever until you hear some shuffling, and see the door knob twist open. To be honest, it’s probably just a few seconds, but time is different when you’re intoxicated.

Before you even see him, it smells faintly of shampoo and detergent, so you’re not surprised when he opens the door and you see his hair is still half wet from the shower. He’s definitely party ready, and when you mean party ready, he’s wearing the same loose black tee and grey joggers he wears to sleep. His socks don’t match and you try not to laugh, because it would be a bad look for you, to show up intoxicated, and apparently crazy.

“Oh (y/n), what are you doing here? Oh shit is today Friday? I totally forgot, Haechan is going to kill me-'' He looks at you and then pauses, scrunching up his nose. “Have you been drinking?”

“No.” you say sarcastically, but it definitely falls short of Mark because he looks at you like he does not believe you. Good, because he shouldn’t.

He sighs, and ushers you in his room. It’s dark, with the only light emitting from the little steel lamp on his desk, which is covered with his notes, pencils, a textbook, and some highlighters. When you finally make your way to his bed (with difficulty) he sighs again, and you silently scold yourself for having that mini drinking contest with Haechan. If you thought you could handle your alcohol well, Haechan was an absolute monster.

You nearly screech when Mark flashes a mini flashlight in your face, and he tells you to calm down before someone thinks he’s committing murder. He holds your face still with his index finger resting on your cheek and his thumb lifting your chin. You try your best not to squint when he tells you to, instead focusing on his face. He’s so close, you can feel his warm breath on your face. If you weren’t already so flushed from drinking, you suspect you’d look beet red now.

“Well, your pupils still dilate normally, so I don’t think you have alcohol poisoning-”

The world is moving a little, so you plop backwards on his bed— albeit a little harder than expected because he rushes over to you and looks concerned.

“-but I don’t think that’s the problem here.” he finishes.

Your eyes are closed, mainly because his bed is really comfy. “I’m here to pick you up.” and as if to emphasize your point, you wildly start pointing in all directions, hoping it would land on him.

You open your eyes when you feel him grab your finger and turn it thirty degrees to the left, just stopping at his chest. Your sense of direction must be really bad, because it turns out you were pointing at nothing.

“I don’t think we’re going anywhere for awhile”

“Noooooo” you wail, and Mark lets go of your hand to sit back down on his desk, and unsurprisingly, begins reading his textbook again. How he is able to focus with you in the background, you don’t know, but it must have taken years of practice.

At this point, you decide to take matters into your own hands. You shove yourself off the bed and grab his arms from behind him. His roller chair scoots a few inches before he stops it.

“You’re not exactly making great case for yourself here”

“Stop making excuses!”

You aim straight towards the armpits, and you’re confused at the lack of reaction, so you reach over to squeeze his knee. Almost immediately, he crumples over, almost falling off the chair.

“Can you-” he says mid laugh, “please” he gasps, “Stop that!”

You respond by attacking his other knee, and it’s over. He falls off his chair and you go down with him. The difference is that he recovers quickly, and starts tickling you back in revenge.

You’re sensitive, so it feels like you’re dying. You try to use his arm as leverage to push yourself up, but next thing you know he’s toppeling over you. You close your eyes and wait for your head to kiss the cold hard floor but it never comes, because Mark's hand cradles your head, breaking the fall.

When you open your eyes, he’s closer than ever before, noses touching. Lips a mere centimetres away and in a weird embrace, you resist the urge to close the distance.

Mark has always been good looking, especially now, so close to you. You don’t know why you’ve never noticed it before.

When he pulls away he’s flustered, and for the first time, so are you.

It’s an awkward silence, with you still on the floor as he stands up, rubbing the dusk from his knees. He scratches the back of his head and offers you a hand

“Let’s head out,” he says.

“Yeah, let’s.” you echo.

…

Although Haechan berates you for being more than a little late to the party, he’s overjoyed that you somehow managed to show up with Mark. Not that he didn’t have faith in you anyways, he tells you. It’s just that Mark is married to his Biology textbook, and she runs a tight ship. By the time you reached the frat with Mark, you’ve sobered up enough to enjoy yourself normally,

It’s when you wake up in the morning, that you’re not okay. It’s not okay, because you dreamt of Mark, and that’s weird, because you and Mark were just friends, right? And you always will be.

It’s not a big deal because friends dream of friends. Dreams are a product of your own desires environment, you tell yourself, it’s perfectly normal because you spend so much time with him.

What is not normal, is when you see Mark the following Monday, and are worried about it. You’re nervous the whole time, and it gets worse when you slide the little watermelon filled tupperware container across the table in apology for last Friday. He likes his watermelon cut up into little cubes, you remembered (why do you remember?), and you avoid his eyes, pushing a stray piece of hair behind your face.

Mark, oblivious as usual, doesn’t really notice anything until 10 minutes in, as if your lack of rambling surprises him. Munching on the cubes, he asks if you’re okay.

“Yeah, I am.”

No you are not. You are utterly fucked.

…

“But you need to promise me you won’t judge or make fun of me for it”

“Just say it already, Jesus.”

“It’s just so embarrassing.”

“Oh my god, are you in love with me?”

“No!”

When placing your hands in your face, Haechan grants mercy on you, patting you on the back instead of teasing you further.

“I don’t know what else could be so important that you need to talk to me in person. Unless…. it’s about Mark?”

His hands stop soothingly rubbing your back and instead starts slapping it, waiting for you to laugh along with him. When he doesn’t get a response he gasps. Turning his head sideways to face you, he pries your fingers apart.

“No fucking way.”

“Right?” you moan.

“I was just joking, but I can’t say I didn’t expect it.”

You remove your hands from your face and look at him, confused. “What do you mean?”

“Like, you’ve known each other forever. You spend a lot of time together too. Someone was bound to catch feelings eventually.”

You don’t respond, instead choosing to sulk.

“You know I’m right. You just don’t want to admit it because you’re the loser in this situation.”

Right he is, because you’ve been avoiding Mark for the past few weeks like the plague. You’ve told him that you’ve been busy with your final term paper (you’re not, you’re an engineering major why would you have one?), and although he was a little confused, he was probably also a little thankful because the MCAT was only a month away.

As you tell him about your plight, Haechan listens thoughtfully, “mhming” and “ahh-ing” at all the right places.

“I don’t see how ignoring him helps you at all. I would say to just talk to him about it, but it’s Mark, he probably hasn’t thought about you that way at all.”

“Thanks,” you grumble. “So I’m basically one of the boys.”

“No really, mans might as well be the anemone from Nemo, I’ve never seen him interested in anyone.” Haechan sighs. “This is a tough one.”

“I’m sure I’ll think of something, but I might have to get creative.”

“I’d like to see you try Hyuck.”

…

It’s 9pm Sunday night, and there’s a knock on your door. It’s strange you think, because it’s a Sunday, and it’s a little late to be doing anything.

When you open the door, there he is, Mark Lee in all his 5’9’ glory, with a little bag in hand, in it your favorite milk tea.

“It’s Sunday.” you say, intelligently.

Mark just chuckles. “Yes it is, and your point?”

You step aside so he can walk in, and you’re embarrassed at your current state. For once, you’ve finished your assignments early, so you’ve spent the past four hours in your pajamas watching K-dramas and snacking on honey chips. You must look like a bum.

Mark on the other hand, always looks good, even in some old dress slacks, and an old t-shirt with some holes in it. He smells faintly of antiseptic, so he must have just come from a volunteering shift at the hospital.

“It’s nice of you to drop by,” you poke the straw into the bubble tea. “And thank you for the bubble tea.”

“You’ve been busy recently so I figured you’d need it for the caffeine content, but it’s not like you sleep anyway.” he jokes. “How’s the term paper going?”

“The term paper? Oh right, the term paper. It’s alright,” you lie. “Just a couple of pages left. Beats having to take the MCAT though.”

Mark looks tired, with his hair slightly overgrown and his dark circles hallower than usual. You feel bad—he has a habit of overworking himself; you’re usually there to check on him but lately you haven’t, and he’s kind and thoughtfull enough to bring you something because he thinks you’re stressed.

“Yeah tell me about it,” Mark takes a seat next to you on your bed, head hitting the wall with a soft thump. “It’s going to be all over next week though, I can’t wait. I’ve missed you though.”

Busy silently cursing at yourself for the way your heart flutters at his admission, you forget to respond. Mark frowns, places his hand on your thigh in an attempt to soothe you, and it has the opposite effect—you think you might go into cardiac arrest.

“Is something wrong?”

“N-no.” you stammer. “Just stressed. ”

Mark makes things worse by leaning in closer, gently placing the back of his hand on your forehead. “You’re kinda hot.”

“I am?”

“Yeah, like I think you may be running a fever.”

He hops off the bed, and rummages around in his little black bag, and pulls out a thermometer. He places a little sleeve on the end, and motions for you to open your mouth. When it beeps, he takes it out of your mouth and looks at the result.

“Your temperature is fine, but you should rest. I’ll see you soon okay?” He pats your head. “Take it easy, I know you’ll do great.”

…

You might not have a term paper, but what you do have is a physics final.

The desk area is littered with eraser dust, crumpled paper, and half filled styrofoam cups of coffee that have since gotten stale. You swear to god that Physics was a subject meant to torture, not enrich the lives of college students. At this rate, you were seriously debating dropping out to become a stripper.

Haechan, not sensing your dismay, disrupts your plans to drop out by telling you something that puts a damper on the rest of your day, as if Physics wasn’t doing that already.

“Have you noticed that Mark’s been hanging out a lot with that one girl lately? What’s her name? So-bin, Yee-ben, Ben 10, ”

“Yebin,” you snap. “And don’t ever disrespect Ben 10 like that again. ”

Haechan lifts his hands up, “ I agree she’s a total bitch, but man is she hot.”

“Aren’t you supposed to make me feel better, not worse?”

Haechan’s face softens and for once in his life, looks a little sorry. “All I’m saying is if you don’t do something soon, someone might do it for you. I overheard her saying something about her and Mark going to spring fling together.”

He’s not wrong, but Mark, at Spring fling? At a Darty? Willingly? His idea of a good time was studying.

“You’re kidding,” you scoff. “As if he’d be caught dead at something like that.”

“I don’t know (y/n). He doesn’t really have much else to do now that the MCAT is over.”

Right, the MCAT. He took it last week. You mentally slap yourself for not asking how it went.

“Speak of the devil.” Haechan says quietly, motioning behind you.

There she is through the glass, Yebin, pulling a seat next to Mark, not before sneaking up behind him and planting a fat kiss right on his cheek.

…

Maybe if this were a movie, you’d cry all weekend and he’d make it up to you; But this is real life, so you secretly cry for a week and sulk for the rest of the month, blaming your puffy eyes on seasonal allergies (In real life, Mark can’t make it up to you because he did nothing wrong. He’s also not even aware that you like him, but that’s besides the point).

Despite Haechan’s attempt to convince you that it could’ve been just a friendly kiss, a greeting kiss, a whatever kiss, you insist that you’re done with your little crush, that it had shriveled up and died. Although not so convinced, Haechan drops the subject all together and instead resorts to comforting you in his own way, which mainly just consists of making fun of you about other things.

Mark is a touchy subject, and you’re still avoiding him. Why? You don’t really know. You know it’s not fair to Mark, who is probably very hurt and confused at your lack of communication. Nonetheless, he doesn’t question it, and is so infuriatingly mature with his emotions that you suspect that he even respects it, because he stops texting you after a while.

You feel bad about stonewalling him, leaving him in the dark, but really, what would you say to him?

“Sorry-I-haven’t-been-talking-to-you-it’s-just-that-I’m-in-love-with-you-and-I’m-butthurt-that-you-have-a-girlfriend-of-course-it’s-not-really-your-fault-but-”

You shudder at the thought, because it’s just plain embarrassing.

But really, you’re not the best at expressing your emotions—you’ve never been. Frankly, you’re tired of expressing your emotions because it never got you anywhere. Not with your mom, not with your dad, and definitely not with Yuta, who you dated for a year and half a year just to dump you like you were nothing.

It’s not worth it, to put your emotions on the line for anyone, not anymore. You locked your heart away a long time ago, and you were a fool to let it come out last time, and you like to think you learn from your mistakes.

At least, that’s what you think, until you return home one Sunday night from the library and see a little cup of your favorite milk tea at the door, with a straw neatly balanced on the top.

…

When spring fling rolls around, you still haven’t spoken to Mark, and if your friends catch on, they don't mention it. They know by now that you prefer to deal with things alone, to digest them for what they are and then promptly moving on—you know, like processing a death.

It doesn’t really matter, you think. You and Mark have always been friends, and will always be friends. Nothing more, nothing less. And when you get over yourself, things will be fine.

But really, how can it be fine when your whole world stops every time Mark looks at you?

You try not to dwell on it, even now weeks later. You’re busy getting ready to go out, blotting your lipstick on some tissue paper in your friend Yuna’s bathroom.

“(y/n), you look amazing.”

When you turn to look at yourself in the mirror she’s right; The mascara you put on your lashes really brings out the color of your eyes, and your skin (thanks to Yuna’s highlighter compact) is literally glowing. You feel really pretty.

You turn to smile at her. “Thanks to you.” you tell her, and she gets bashful, pushing you out of the seat and ushering you out the door. You make it down stairs no problem, but she calls you as soon as you walk out the door.

“Yes, I have blotting papers with me, and no, I am not dating Haechan I’ve told you thousands of times-”

“What about me?”

You turn around to find Haechan leaning against the dormitory wall, already waiting.

Embarrassed, you tell her you need to go and hang up the phone.

“How long have you been standing here? Hopefully not too long.” You apologize, but he assures you it’s all right.

“Are you sure your friends are fine with you leaving them early to go with me?”

“Yes Haechan, they’re just happy that I have someone to go with.” you sigh. “Almost too happy.”

He laughs, after looking at you, he pauses. “You look nice.”

“You do too, Hyuck.”

If you didn’t know any better, you would say he seems embarrassed at your compliment.

When you walk into the venue, you’re not surprised at how spacious it is. You’re used to your school going all out, from the kale salads and now, spring fling. They might as well call it spring semi-formal, because everyone is dressed their best.

You see Johnny at the end of the punch table, and he waves, motioning for you two to join him.

“And my favorite couple,” he greets you two, and you almost smack him upside down the head.

“Relax, I’m just kidding.” and he leans in for a hug. “How are you (y/n), I haven’t seen you in a second.”

“I’m good, just been super busy. You were so right, Professor Kim has been really keeping me on my toes in Physics 430,” you laugh. “Every time I walk into the classroom I can feel my life flash through my very eyes.”

He laughs, and you all laugh with him. Johnny tends to have that kind of effect on people.

“How’s Mark?” he asks, and you cringe. “It’s been a while.”

You laugh nervously “ I haven’t seen him in a while either.”

“Oh really. Don’t you see each other every week?”

“Well we used to,” you panic. “Just not anymore because, you know, I-”

“Because you’ve been so busy,” Haechan finishes.

Johnny gives you two a strange look but continues talking anyway.

“Well that’s life. Poor boy’s been studying for the MCAT like his rent is due tomorrow.”

“More like everyday.” Haechan snickers.

Johnny doesn’t hesitate to flame Haechan for his insolence, and begins teasing him for almost failing Calc II (Calc II was kind of hard you admit but that is an admission that will die with you), meanwhile, you’re whisked away by Yuna and her entourage. You glance at Johnny and Haechan, who bid you farewell with a nod of their heads.

It’s fun, you’re having a great time dancing, and eating mini hot dogs on a toothpick (you guess your university had to cut corners somewhere). When Roxanne plays, you and Yuna go wild, nearly knocking over a waiter over with a silver tray. You have so much fun, that you forget that Mark Lee exists until you make eye contact across the floor.

It's no surprise that he’s with Yebin, who looks annoyingly prettier than usual, with her makeup all done and satin dress. She’s pulling him in the opposite direction, but Mark seems to pay no mind, instead staying in place, looking at you. A moment passes, and you see him excusing himself. When he begins to head your direction. You panic.

Before you can even react, you feel an arm wrap around your waist, pulling you close. When you finally turn to see who it is, you’re nose to nose with none other than Haechan.

“What are you doing?”

“Just go along with it,” Haechan whispers through his teeth. Your hands are pressed against his chest, and he grabs one of your arms, placing it around his neck.

“Go along with what? Have you lost your mind-”

Before you can finish your sentence, his lips press against yours and your mind goes blank. He tastes like peppermint and aftershave, with his lips soft in the center and just a little chapped around the edges.

When you two finally part, Mark is nowhere to be found, and you don’t know how to feel.

“Haechan I-” you stammer. “I need to go.”

You hurry off, and he doesn’t follow you.

…

When you’re outside, it’s cold; the air is brisk and definitely doesn’t help steady your breathing, it only makes it harder. It’s a lot to process, Mark, Yebin, Haechan. It’s a lot, and you feel like you’re in emotional overdrive, with all the feelings you’ve been trying to keep in for the past few months coming back to bite you.

You sit down at the edge of the fountain outside the venue, and you nearly get soaked. It misses you by mere inches, with the ceramic fish looking at you almost mockingly. You don’t care, with all the thoughts running through your head right now, you think you might go insane.

You don’t know how long you’ve been sitting there at the fountain when you feel something wrap around you, warm like it was just taken out of the dryer. It smells familiar, like cologne and faintly of antiseptic—it smells like Mark.

You don’t look at him when he sits down next to you, legs open, hands crossed. And he doesn’t look at you. It’s radio silent.

“So you and Haechan, huh.”

“So you and Yebin.” you echo.

Mark looks at you for the first time, confused. “What are you talking about?”

“You know what I mean.”

“Oh that.” He shuffles awkwardly. “I don’t really like her like that.”

Your head raises in surprise, and you face each other for the first time in months.

“I thought you guys had a thing.”

Mark scratches the back of his head. “Well we do, but it’s just in her head” he says, and you can’t help but laugh. “She came onto me last week, so I finally set things straight.” Noticing your reaction, he just shakes his head.

“I don’t think it worked though,” he adds.

“I would think, you’ve always been too nice for your own good.”

“I just didn’t want to hurt her feelings, you know?” he murmurs. “I feel terrible.”

“You’re not a terrible person just because you don’t like someone back.”

“Maybe not, but I believe not wanting you and Haechan to be together does.”

It takes a moment for his words to register within you, and even after you process them, you’re not sure what to say.

“We don’t like each other like that.” you interrupt him.

Mark looks visibly confused. “Then you and Haechan aren’t??” his voice falters.

“No more than you and Yebin. I promise you it’s not what it seems like.” you tell him and it finally clicks. You’d have to thank the idiot later. Right after you slap him.

Mark doesn’t question it, not even when you start crying. You don’t question it either, unsure of why you’re crying.

“You’re so stupid,” you sniffle. “I’ve liked you for so fucking long.”

Mark pulls out his pocket square to gently wipe the tears from your face, and places his hand on top of yours.

“You’re ridiculous, you know that? You could have just said something.” his says softly

“I didn’t want to ruin anything. We’ve always just been friends.”

“I think we’ve always been just more than that.” he says, leaning in, hands cup your face gently.

“Just took some of us a little longer to realize.”

....

“That was very nice of you,” Johnny says.

“Yeah. Very nice.” Haechan echos.

“How long has it been, that you’ve liked her for? Three years?”

“Two going on three.”

Johnny lets out a low whistle, and looks down at the younger boy worriedly. “Are you sure you’re okay with this?”

Haechan glances at you and Mark through the glass, outside the venue. With Mark whispering in your ear and you laughing, you seem so happy; happier than you’ve ever been with him.

“Yeah, I am. More than okay.”

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skullsandwineglasses · 3 years ago

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Remembrance of Things Past - Eps 1-10 Impression/Rant

Not really a first impressions post since there are only 2 episodes left, but as I’m waiting on the last few episodes, I thought I’d rant a bit about the drama here.

First of all, I agree with everything that AvenueX said in her review of the first 6 episodes. Her review is what prompted me to start the drama. I needed a realistic slice of life drama to balance out the idol drama that is You Are My Glory (which I’m also waiting on for new episodes), and ROTP seemed to fit bill. ROTP is just so good.

I binged ROTP in 3 days. It could have been 2 days, but I started it at 2am on a Wednesday night, so I didn’t get very far the first night. Each episode is about 75 minutes long, so almost the equivalent of 2 regular lengthed episodes, but not quite.

I cried during the first two episodes. The character development is just phenomenal. You really feel for Jing Jing’s character even though you’ve only seen her character for an hour. There are little moments throughout the drama that made me tear up too, like when the girls were celebrating Nan Jia jie’s 36th birthday and I got emotional over how close their bond is, or moments when the girls reflected on their aging parents and how we often take our parents for granted.

Plot pacing and structure

The plot is tight and well-paced, and each girl’s storyline is interwoven well. Sometimes they’d cut between simultaneous scenes between the girls to compare and contrast what they’re each going through. For instance, when Xu Yan is having an argument with her boyfriend, the drama will also cut and flip back and forth to Qiao Xi Chen going through problems at her workplace. When Xu Yan makes up with her boyfriend, the drama cuts to QXC and Nan Jia being romantically pursued by Jian Yi Fan and Ou Yang. It’s interesting to see how their lives mirror and differ from each other.

Because the storylines between the girls are so interwoven and keep flipping back and forth between each other, it makes it hard to skip scenes because you can’t just skip an entire segment or else you’ll miss something important in all 3 storylines. I can see that this might be a little annoying if you have a preference for one of the girls and want to skip someone else’s storyline. But I actually like seeing all 3 of their stories play out, so I’m not bothered by it.

Another aspect about the plot’s structure that I appreciate is how they use the mystery behind Jing Jing’s suicide as a throughline for the drama. Up until episode 8ish(?), each episode ends with a question about Jing Jing’s life prior to her suicide and the next episode opens with the girls trying to find an answer or a clue to it. The girls and we the audience learn more and more about Jing Jing with each episode. However, episodes 9 and 10 deviate from the structure a bit and so the drama has recently been less and less focused on Jing Jing’s story, especially after they found out that she had depression. The drama seems to imply that her depression due to the stress of living in Beijing was the main factor that led to her suicide, while the successive unfortunate events that happened on her birthday was the trigger.

Characters

I like all the main characters in the drama, albeit some a little more than others, which I’ll explain. I think the 3 male love interests are a little too perfect though, and so I guess this slice of life drama is actually a little idealistic after all.

Xu Yan - My least favourite of the four girls. She’s materialistic, but not as spoiled as I though she would be. But it does annoy me how she keeps picking fights with Shen Zi Chang, when he’s just trying his best. He’s so tolerant and patient with her. He apologizes, they make up, and then the cycle repeats. It’s just a very unhealthy relationship, and I’m tried of seeing them fight and make up.

EDIT: So, I started writing this review when I had only watched up until episode 9, but now that I’ve finished episode 10, um, wtf?? Xu Yan made a bad choice and got scammed of all her money, her friends try to comfort her, loan her money, and tell her not to repress her emotions like Jing Jing. And then she just lashes out at them saying they have no right to comfort her because they were the ones who caused Jing Jing’s death. Xu Yan starts off blaming QXC for not knowing that Jing Jing had a crush on her boyfriend, and then she blames Nan Jia for being a bad older cousin. She blames both of them for being ignorant of Jing Jing’s depression and only caring about themselves. QXC (rightfully) retorts back than Xu Yan knew all along that Jing Jing had a crush on her boyfriend, and yet Xu Yan never told anyone, so she’s just as guilty as all of them. Honestly, I was sympathetic towards Xu Yan before, but she was just so ungrateful and entitled in that scene. What right does she have pointing fingers and assigning guilt to people? And to weaponize Jing Jing’s death against them? That’s just cruel. The argument between them in that scene at the end of episode 10 just felt so random and out of place. All of a sudden, Xu Yan points out all of these problems she has with QXC and Nan Jia, when all they’ve ever done is pamper her. Also, you can’t blame QXC for dating Lin Rui even if Jing Jing liked him first, and not to mention that QXC wasn’t even aware. QXC might not have even chosen to date Lin Rui if she had known. But it happens all the time between friends where your friend might date someone you like. All’s fair in love and war, and there’s no first come first serve rule when it comes to dating.

Jing Jing - She becomes more complex as you learn more about her. She puts her friends first and is fiercely supportive and protective of them. We get a glimpse of how far she’s willing to go for them she pulls a butcher knife from the kitchen and points it at QXC’s debt collectors in the first episode. Her friends see her as being really open, expressive, and bubbly. She’s the first one they each go to whenever they need help with a problem or want to show off an achievement. But in reality, she’s really secretive. She hides her feelings to keep her friends happy, and when they slowly uncover her secrets, she becomes less and less recognizable to them, as though she’s been living a double life all along.

At the end of episode 10, Jing Jing is described as the “hole in the tree” that everyone goes to to share their secrets, but they forget that she’s also a person with her own secrets to share, and she’s not just a tree hole to serve others. Can we blame the friends for not paying enough attention to Jing Jing and only using her for emotional support? Yes and no. It’s complicated. We should always do more to try to care for others and to be more attentive to them, but at the same time, it’s impossible to completely know a person. I purposely hide parts of my life from my friends because I don’t want them worrying or judging or commenting. So I would never expect them to be able to figure it out, and neither do I want them to figure it out. I think it’s interesting that the drama is exploring the friends’ self-imposed guilt, but I don’t agree that Xu Yan should be the one to point it out them and to be Jing Jing’s spokesperson. Xu Yan positions herself as Jing Jing’s heroic and righteous advocator, when really Xu Yan is the most problematic person out of the three remaining friends.

Also, after seeing how the friends interact, they don’t feel narcissistic. Yes, they each readily vent about their problems to each other, but they also ask about the other person. It’s not one-sided. Xu Yan talks about her problems with her boyfriend, but she also asks and cares about what’s happening in QXC’s life and vice versa. Nan Jia is more mature and is busy with her business, but she always takes the time and effort to help her friends. All of their conversations are reciprocal and they are genuinely interested in each other’s lives. So, I don’t think they have a major communication problem or that they don’t care or that they’re ignorant. Which again, makes Xu Yan’s accusations in episode 10 feel even more unfair.

Ji Nan Jia - Jing Jing’s cousin and also the oldest of the three girls (about a decade older). Sassy, witty, unapologetic, confident. She’s who you’d think of when you imagine a successful, independent, career-driven woman. She’s extremely annoyed by her mother’s nagging to get married. But she herself is trying to figure out whether she actually wants to find someone to settle down with or if she just wants to beat her biological clock and have children while she still can. She’s pursued by Ou Yang, ten years her junior, and he’s absolutely enamoured with her. He seems to be unconditionally in love with her, which is what I meant when I said that the male leads in this drama seem too perfect and idealistic. But I like Ou Yang though. He’s adorable.

Qiao Xi Chen - The main character of the four main characters. Like Nan Jia, she’s also quite sassy. In some ways, she’s like a younger version of Nan Jia. QXC is also very career driven and competitive. She’s confident and believes in her abilities, but she also gets easily overwhelmed and emotional (like when her stress and nervousness prevented her from being able to give her proposal presentation and she ran out of the room. I’ve definitely felt that way before my committee meetings). QXC is a character you can self-insert as because she represents the everyday employee who struggles with the long commute to work and tries to stand out and make a name for herself in the company. QXC is also extremely paranoid, which is understandable when you’re a woman living alone in the city. I know what it’s like to have to briskly walk home late at night and constantly having to look over your shoulder to make sure no one’s following you, or having to check your hotel room before you change, or having to make it seem like you’re not the only one living in your apartment. QXC is smart, logical, helps people when she can, but is also reasonably selfish when she needs to protect herself, like when her co-workers try to take advantage of her or throw her under the bus. She’s a character everyone can relate to.

She and Jian Yi Fan also make such a cute pairing. I love all their interactions. I love how Jian Yi Fan can’t help but smile when he’s with her, but he tries hard to clamp it down. I love how QXC is aware of her own attraction and easily admits to to Xu Yan that she does have feelings for him instead of beating around the bush. And I especially love the awkward but adorable confession scene in episode 8. Such great banter and play on words (”你是什麼意思” “沒意思” “你對我是不是有意思?”). The drama did a great job of depicting the frustration of trying to guess whether someone likes you when they seem to be sending mixed signals. A lot of dramas that don’t focus on romance seem to do a better job of showing romance than idol dramas that focus on nothing but romance. I grew up with TVB dramas, and in most of them, romance is usually secondary to the main plot, but I always loved the romances in those dramas.

Like Ou Yang, JYF is such an idealistic love interest. He’s so supportive of and attentive to QXC. I haven’t watched too many slice of life dramas, but To Dear Myself and My Best Friend’s Story both had flawed (and sometimes even irredeemable) male love interests. This drama’s rose-coloured glasses definitely reduces the amount of performative angst, but it also makes the drama a little less realistic. The men in Jing Jing’s life aren’t villainized either even when you expected them to be sinister. I think the most antagonistic character is Lin Rui, but even he’s made to be sympathetic. In fact, nearly all the characters in the drama are sympathetic characters because many of the choices they made were forced because of the situation they found themselves in, and what they did was an act of self-preservation. And so, you can’t hate them or blame them.

Acting and Dialogue

I mean, what’s there to say? The acting and dialogue just sucks you right in. I love it so much. The characters are so animated and charming because of how well the actors delivered their lines. I’m not a mandarin speaker (I’m a cantonese speaker but learned mandarin afterwards), but even I was able to notice the colloquialism and slangs and idiosyncratic ticks in speech that made the dialogue feel so real and alive. The actors had great comedic timing, and when they cried, you could feel how vulnerable they are.

Lastly, I also like the little “life lessons” they include at the end of the drama where there’d be a voiceover by one of the actresses and they’d muse about life. One of my favourite musings when when they talked about what it means to have a sense of security. For some people, having a sense of security is about having a certain amount of money in your bank account, or having someone waiting for you to come home, but a sense of security isn’t something tangible or physical that you can achieve or possess. It’s a belief. It’s a belief that you’re able to face any problem and that life will go on. It’s a belief that the one that you love will be faithful and supportive. It’s a type of belief that allows you to be confident to face uncertainty. And thus, a sense of security is something that only you can give yourself. I really like that little food for thought because it’s a great reminder to be self-dependent and to not rely on external gratification. Que sera sera. What will be will be. Don’t get too hung over on failure and don’t let stress dominate your life.

Note: Watching this at the same time as You Are My Glory is extremely humbling. YAMG is an idol drama, and so they make the romance look so easy. Heck, idol dramas make being a protagonist easy. The protagonist is destined to stand out from the crowd. It’s easy to be noticed. It’s easy to cause a change in the status quo. But ROTP is a reminder that we’re all practically nobodies in the big city. It feels impossible to make an impression when there are millions of other people living almost the same life as you are. There’s nothing special about you, and it’s hard to find meaning and purpose. Obviously, the drama shows that even when it feels like you’re trying to swim upstream in a big city, we each have a life worth living. We may feel insignificant in the grand scheme of things, but to our friends and family, we’re their world and they’re ours. I think it was Camus who said that we should find meaning in the face of absurdity. Live in spite of how absurd and meaningless things feels. Anyway, this drama gives you a lot to think about, even though I don’t really like the melodrama they’ve recently added to drag the plot (*cough cough* that explosive argument scene at the end of episode 10 that I keep ranting about). You’d think that a 12-episode drama wouldn’t have filler, and yet here we are.

#我在他乡挺好的 #remembrance of things past #cdrama #zhou yu tong #bai yu fan #cdrama review #jolin jin #ren su xi

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chemicalpink · 4 years ago

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Trust Fund Baby ♡ Kim Seokjin

Pairing: Kim Seokjin x reader

Genre: Fluff + Softcore Smut with a side of Comedy

Word Count: 6.1k

Warnings: includes softcore porn, mc cries during sex bc too much feelings, fake engagement, Jin’s mum dislikes YN

Summary: Kim Seokjin is the biggest Trust Fund Baby, it is no secret but he’s almost thirty and on the line to inherit his dad’s CEO position, which makes his family set a deadline for his engagement or he loses it all.

The one where Seokjin is no good with buried feelings but Y/N isn’t any better (they kinda hate each other and they have to share a bed okay, thats the cliche here)

A/N: banner made by me, whoa I finally got this bad boy finished that took quite some time, well, I hope you enjoy, these past few days haven’t been nice to me but I’m slowly working on it. Much blessing to all of you reading this first attempt at a slightly longer shot.

Seokjin has always been one to enjoy the finest things in life, traveling around the world at any given time? check. shopping without checking the price tag? check. attending a top tier university? also check.

The thing is, one can only live so long without having to actually work for every single swipe of a black card. He is about to turn 28, youngest child of the most successful tech innovator in Korea and a former second-place Miss Universe, and he has yet to bring a girl home that provides him with some kind of secured future to the family name.

“We are not getting any younger” his mother had said the first few times the topic was brought up during their usual family Sunday brunch, but the words fell on deaf ears.

When his dad started getting involved in the matter, Seokjin knew he was over and done with.

But as much as his dad was headstrong, Jin was one himself too, he entered each blind date knowing that he would make whoever was sitting across from him, absolutely despise him after less than an hour went by, which was quite a hard task in itself, seen as he was pretty good looking and with a heavy amount of money under his name.

See, he would have probably agreed to marry to some of the girls that his dad sent his way, but every time he sat down for dinner with each of them, they were not even trying to fake being interested in him, just his lifestyle, whether it is if his dad was about to name him CEO any time soon or how much money they could blow off in the wedding.

He could do it for the rest of his living days, scaring off his father’s candidates, that is. It was somewhat fun, earning a weirded out look when he mentioned he liked bathing in goats milk religiously, or how he allegedly liked being put to sleep like a baby, he even once went as far as admitting a fake toe kink in the most perverted way possible when one of them just wouldn’t budge.

Then again, his fun could only last so long, as his father called him up to the office to give him a 30-day ultimatum or his trust fund would be taken away for good. Now that had the gears in his head working, how on earth would any sane enough person agree to marry in a month-long time.

“I’m not saying you’re not a keeper, hyung but I honestly don’t think I can take up such a responsibility,” Namjoon laughed as they sat in one of the campus’ lounge chairs while they waited for their class to start, the elder groaned in response.

“Could you imagine having to marry THE Kim Seokjn in less than a month, but also having to meet the standards of tech genius Mr Kim and universal beauty Mrs Kim” Jungkook laughed at his friend as he patted his shoulder in pity “I don’t think anyone is willing to put themselves through it hyung”

“Could you just- I don’t know, help me out a bit? I already know I’m fucked”

“Okay, let’s say… who could pass the scrutinising judgemental eye of the Kims?” the blond one offered, just a bit of teasing in his tone “They would have to be a girl, your father seems adamant on that one” he paused as if in thought “ A nice family name would help too”

“She would have to be good looking too, my mum says Seokjin-hyung’s mum can never be seen without looking like she is about to own a runway”

“Well that’s about it, I will be broke for the rest of my life, I won’t be able to pay my student loans, it was nice knowing you guys, I’ll just have to work at some greasy old diner to pay for a one-bedroom apartment somewhere out of the city and we’ll never hang out again because I’ll be a disgrace of society, this handsome face will just wrinkle and spot without the high maintenance and- ugh” he buried his face in between his hands, resting on the table in an overexaggerated manner after his rant, making the youngers try to stifle a laugh

“Whoa, what is the drama queen crying about now?” Taehyung, another friend of theirs approached the table after hearing the not so subtle commotion “Hyung, if your night cream went out of stock again, you know I can get my mum to ship some to you, we’ve talked about this”

If Seokjin’s dramatic outburst from before had made them laugh, Taehyungs’ confession made them burst in a fit of laughter that had both of them holding onto their sides “You’ve- you’ve had to restock Seokjin-hyung on- on night cream before?”

“And now he’s going to kill me, stop laughing!” he took a seat next to them “What is this about anyway?”

“His dad said he has to marry or they will completely obliterate his spending rights”

“Oh but, how hard can it be? You’re Kim Seokjin, just ask a girl to fake marry you”

“He’s just worried that after having a taste of Worldwide Handsome, they won’t let go ” Seokjin let out an overdramatic groan at that, continuing to fake cry, sound muffled by his arms

“Then just ask someone that doesn’t give two shits about your money or reputation to fake marry you”

“I don’t think such a person exists, hyung”

“Yah, Y/N is a good option, her family is filthy rich too”

“But isn’t Y/N… you know, a bastard child?” Taehyung was known amongst their scene as a social butterfly, not caring about the protocol they were subdued into when they were children, so it made sense that while for them it was almost a rule to never consider an illegitimate child a friend of theirs, Taehyung would just jump over that fact.

“Which is exactly my point, if you show up to your parents’ house, saying you’re ‘oh so in love with this black sheep’ I could bet my life, they’ll let you off the hook”

So maybe Taehyung was right, you were his best shot so far. Contrary to what most people new to the scene of Korea’s high society believe about your social status as an illegitimate child of the car emporium’s CEO and national treasure, he knows you are more of an insider, having grown up with him but… pretty much on the side. It wasn’t like you were alien to his lifestyle, but as you both grew up and he was involved more in the family business, you had grown apart, going as far as rebelling against your father once you were grown up enough to understand what being a bastard child meant for you.

He never stopped seeing you around though, once you started going MIA on business dinners and family trips, he thought enough to see you during classes.

However, you stopped being recognisable after he attended a semester abroad, coming back home to see pigtails and pink puffy dresses long gone, in their place, ripped jeans, which were completely unacceptable for a lady, according to his mum, and driving one of your dad’s self-proclaimed archnemesis designs.

It was a spring semester in high school, he could recall the time as if it were a precious memory, while the rest tried to pretend it had never happened in the first place; at age 27 he doesn’t have to try so hard to recall the way you burst into one of your father’s celebratory cocktails, drunk off your ass, barely managing to get a hold of some mic and screaming into it how he, and everyone else attending the party, had a stick up their asses that didn’t let them see anything but price tags before you were dragged off stage by security. He had giggled at it but his mother had scolded him, asking him to pretend as if you had never existed in the first place.

So of course, the secure way out of an arranged marriage was simple: you.

Now, this promised to be no easy task, he knew you hated his family almost as much as you hated your own father, but he also happened to know his way into negotiating an infallible plan that would get you to rebel against the system you were so adamant on taking down.

“Wait wait wait, so you’re telling me, asking me, to marry you” so perhaps approaching you on your way to class wasn’t the smartest way to do it, seen as you halted your hasty walk to turn to look at him, books in hand and looking like you hadn’t slept in days.

“Yeah, fake marrying me though”

“I would still sign a contract, Jin you do know we would be legally married, right?” he just raised his shoulders as if to dismiss your statement.

“Say, hypothetically I do it, I don’t think your parents would approve of me” you resumed your walk and he found it appropriate to play dumb with a smile on his face.

“Why wouldn’t they?”

You stopped walking again and blinked a few times his way as if debating inside your head if he really was that dense“Jin… I’m a bastard child, you know how it goes around here”

“Hmmm I’m willing to look past that, yeah” you stared at him for a few seconds before smiling in a knowing way, resisting the urge to roll your eyes at him, not being able to see past his words to his true intentions on the matter since you two hadn’t really hung out for years “So what do you say?”

“No thank you” you weren’t about to turn around once you started to walk away once again, but out of the corner of your eyes you could see him hanging his mouth open in that drama fashion he was known for.

Days passed and each one seemed to go by faster than the last, by the time two weeks were left, he could practically hear the ticking clock inside his head, reminding him that maybe he should have gone for an easier target, perhaps some girl from the country club that seemed to always try so hard to steal a glance from him. But then again, he wouldn’t get rid of her for all he’s worth.

Seokjin tries, again and again, everytime ending up with a no from you, he starts actually trying as his days run low, peer pressure, you’d call it as he set up a huge booth full of roses just outside your dorm building, a mic held in his hand as everyone around him took videos of THE Kim Seokjin making a fool of himself for a girl, your cheeks blazing red as you walked up to him, finally fed up with him as you angrily whispered to him “You’re asking me because you don’t think I am on your level, you honestly think less of me, why? because I didn’t grow up in a golden cradle like you and your friends? because I actually have to work for what I have? You’re an asshole Kim Seokjin, but I will prove you, I can absolutely charm both of your parents, I’ll do it” Seokjin’s grin taking over his features.

The first time you officially posed as Seokjin’s girlfriend, you wouldn’t have thought it would be one of the most nerve wrecking experiences in your life, having grown in a wealthy family, after your mother decided to leave you with your biological dad and his rightful heirs, you were no stranger to their roundabouts, their lifestyle and everything in between.

“Well you cleaned up nicely, Y/N” Seokjin said in a mocking tone, body resting against his black car just outside your dorm building as he watched you close the glass door, ready to drive both of you to his family’s vacation house all the way in Jeju Island

“Why aren’t you a gentleman and help me with my stuff?” you groaned as, once again, your suitcase betrays you and tries to slip away from your grasp.

“Nah, not really my thing” he adjusted his sunglasses perched on his nose as he mockingly added “...darling”

“Kim Seokjin, I am the one doing you a favour by going with you!” you shouted back at him, in a futile attempt to get him to help you as he was already buckling himself up inside the driver’s seat.

In all wealthy family fashion, as soon as Seokjin phoned back home to let his parents know that he was ‘finally ready to bring his girlfriend over’ his mum had gone all out and invited most of the inner Kim family for a weekend get together in one of their houses in Jeju, with just a text the night before having to leave campus as a heads up for you to get ready, currently on your way to catch a plane.

“Wait so let me just get this straight” you said, surprised at Seokjin’s story of how the conversation with his mum went down, turning in your seat to face him more clearly “just after month of your parents trying to set you up, you just went ahead and straight up lied to your mother by saying that you’re bringing your long time girlfriend that you just somehow never mentioned before?”

“Yeah, Y/N, didn’t you hear me out the first time?”

You let out something between a laugh and a scoff as you melted into your seat “We’re so screwed”

Two hours and a lot of bickering later, you are still pushing your own suitcase forward as you and Seokjin made your way to a rented car just outside the airport.

“Listen so- these family things are kinda..”

“Stuck up?”

“I was gonna say etiquette-driven, but yeah, stuck up probably fits best” he said as you buckled your seatbelt on, him beginning to drive away and towards his family address, somewhere from the side of your eye you could see his hand trembling lightly on the steering wheel. Could it be that Kim Seokjin was nervous? The Kim Seokjin?

“Relax Jin, I know exactly how to handle it. We grew up together, remember?” you said smiling at him as he turned your way for a second; to calm him down, but honestly it was more a thing to try and calm yourself down, having ran away from such a lifestyle, stirring things up in your family, only to end up somehow at the center of it all was sure a wild ride to be on.

“Yeah, I sometimes kinda forget you used to be so much better at this stuff than your sisters” his eyes lingered on you a second too long as you stopped at a red light, a small smile taking over his lips and the car behind you being quick to make it known that Seokjin was taking up too long to start the car going again when the light changed.

The ride was pretty much silent and kinda awkward but soon over with as the car pulled up to a familiar villa, white houses with fancy front gardens and over the top luxury cars lining up together as Jin parked on the third house on the right, just beside the one that used to be your father’s, and probably still was.

A woman was waiting by the entrance door, which you soon recognised to be Seokjin’s mum, looking just a tad older than how you remembered her from all those years ago, a bright smile on her face as she rushed to the driver’s side to greet her son.

“Ah Seokjinnie! You never visit anymore, look at you! Are you eating well? You look so thin!” she said as she placed two sonorous kisses on her son, one on each cheek.

“Yah, eomma, we talk on the phone a lot though”

“Wait so who’s the lucky lady you’ve brought home?” you stood kind of awkwardly on the front of the car to greet her with a small bow and a faltering smile, your heart speeding up at the memories of what your life used to be, fingers gripping your bag tighter in an attempt to not run away as soon as her eyes landed on you and her smile fell “Y/N? Seokjinnie, is Y/N really the girl you brought home?”

“Surprise?” Jin said from behind her as she not so subtly let out a huff and entered the house as you tried not to notice how your heart sinked at the sight, surely, you had always known deep down that you were quite the talk of the town amongst the families, with you being a bastard child and all, which was exactly why Seokjin had asked you to pretend to be his girlfriend, so his parents would drop the topic, very much preferring to see his son single rather than married to an out of marriage offspring, which not only made you realise that what you had promised yourself to make Seokjin down his words would never be true, you could never in a million years make his parents love you, and you didn’t calculate just how much it would hurt yourself as you tried.

“You can take the room upstairs, I’ll call you when your sister’s back so we can have dinner together” his mother said as she made her way inside without another word

“So I don’t think your mother likes me” you blurted out as soon as you closed the door to the room “Which I guess, goes exactly as you planned, after this I don’t think they’ll be pestering you to marry”

“Y/N that’s the least of our problems”

“What are you talking about?”

His eyes opened up to emphasize along with his hands dramatically pointing towards the bed “There’s only one bed and I have a bad back so I’m not about to sleep on the floor”

“Well that’s the least you could do Kim, I’m not about to share a bed with you”

“Take the couch?” he said as he pointed to a small couch that faced the window

“Kim Seokjin I’m doing this much for your sorry ass, so unless you want me to go down and tell your mother that all of this is a set up, you take the damn couch”

“Well I never knew you looked that hot while yelling at me, Y/N”

“You’re insufferable”

“Y/N come on, I don’t fit in that couch” he whined at you as you walked towards the bathroom to freshen up

“Do as you please Seokjin, but you’re not sleeping with me”

As if dealing with Seokjin’s mum wasn’t enough, his sister was about to burst your head either from all the questioning or out of spite from the looks she was giving you as you sat across from her on the dinner table

“So Y/N, your sisters never mentioned you dating our Seokjin”

“Oh yeah- it was more of a very private matter, we dated for awhile just to see how it went, right Jinnie?” you said the nickname in a honey dripping voice that fitted the fake scenario you had going on

“Ahh yeah, yeah, Y/N and I, we uh- we like keeping to ourselves”

“And I haven’t seen you at your dad’s company dinners after- well, the incident”

“Seung” their oldest brother said sternly, catching up with her intentions “We’re just glad to see you again, Y/N”

“Thanks”

After dinner, Jin and you walked upstairs saying your goodbyes to the rest of his family to enter the bedroom, separately doing your night routines, you lied on one side of the bed as Seokjin prepped a few blankets and pillows in order to lie on the floor “I was just joking, you know? You could sleep on the other side of the bed” you said, feeling somewhat guilty at how he had taken your past statement as a rule

“I don’t want to make you uncomfortable” he was quick to say, already tossing at being uncomfortable lying on the floor.

“Oh so now you’re being considerate?” you scoffed- sure, Seokjin was kind of a dick, most of the time, but he wasn't half as bad as most people his age and social status, but honestly speaking, if he was so preoccupied on making you uncomfortable, he wouldn’t have even proposed to make you go through this whole ordeal “After what I just had to go through with your sister?”

“Well you kind of accepted to come” he retorted in a soft voice, one you hadn’t listened to him use before, as if over the course of the short dinner time, something had changed in your relationship “A friend doing me a favour, you know?”

“Seokjin…” you trailed off, however as far as you two went back, after news broke that you were somewhat cut off from your father’s heirship, and everyone started treating you cold as ever, you would have thought Jin had gotten the clue “We stopped being friends a long time ago”

“What are you talking about” the night was filled with silence apart from your two whispering voices in the dark as both of you laid there

“Yeah after… that time, we hadn’t talked to each other until now” Describing your relationship with Seokjin was one of the most difficult things to do, while you were still part of the official lineage of your father’s, the Kims had actually even rooted for you to marry Seokjin, whomst you were head over heels at the time, both of you were, but Jin being the good son and heir to a tech emporium, had always disliked the way you stood up against your father and the whole elite thing your families had going on; needles to say, you both completely cut off any strings attached after you proclaimed your despise to the whole wealthy ordeal and you were vanished from your dad’s will.

“I fail to see your point” and for a second you would have loved to believe his soothing voice in the dark, to still be in friendly terms at least, with him, after all this time.

“Nevermind just- goodnight” you said as you turned on your side to cuddle the pillow in between your arms, his soft voice reaching your ears once more and for the last time in the night.

“Goodnight Y/N”

“I’m just going straight to the point here, Y/N what exactly do you plan on achieving by marrying my son?” Jin’s mother said as soon as you came down the stairs, Seokjin having left the room a while back

“Nothing ma’am, we’re just really in love” something inside you twisting at the lie that could have been truth if things were just a tiny bit different than how they were evolving at the time, the words leaving your lips sounding as the mere truth to your ears nonetheless

“I don’t buy that lovebirds facade, Y/N drop the act now” she turned to look directly at you, trying to sound menacing, which, would have worked, had it not been for you handling her for quite some time now, so you just tried your sweetest smile at her “Whatever you and Seokjin had when you were teens, your father and Seokjin’s father called it off”

“I know” you tried to conceal just how much the reminder hurted, the memories flooding into your mind, of you and Jin being engaged even before meeting each other, the good times you both spent together as friends, a few months as something more, then the lonely nights when it was all over and it had seemed like a dream that just wouldn’t ever come true.

“Just so you know, I’m keeping a close eye on you two” were her last words before leaving the kitchen, off to some other place in the house.

“Yes ma’am”

“Hey, Y/N, we’re heading to the beach you coming?” Seokjin asked as he laid his elbow on the counter, you pull him towards you, taking his hand in your smaller one as you watched his mother closing in on you two from the distance before she set her eyes elsewhere

He leaned in to you, whispering “What was that for?”

“Your mother knows something’s up” you shortly answered

“Y/N, I didn’t know you were coming” Seokjin’s father looked just as he did the last time you saw him years ago, his face contorting into an incredule one as he saw you descend from one of the cars that took you to the beach “Are you and your father on a better place now?”

“Oh no sir, I’m accompanying Seokjin” if he hadn’t believed your presence at first, he surely wasn’t believing the words leaving your mouth; Seokjin’s father had always had a soft spot for you, my hardest working tobe daughter-in-law, he had once said, and even after you and Seokjin’s engagement was called off, mainly by your father even when Jin’s mum said otherwise, his dad had offered you a place in his company’s headboard after you graduated, which you politely denied, knowing that someday, Seokjin would be CEO and you would have to work under his name directly.

“Seokjin? my son?” you nodded “What has Seokjin ever done to deserve you as his fiancee?”

“The same thing I keep repeating myself” you mutter more to yourself than for him to hear

“What was that?”

“Oh, nothing!”

The weekend with Jin’s family was as monotonous as you remembered them to be, with family dinner after a day at the beach, plus the constant scrutinising eye of his mother on you two, which made you both hold hands more than the normal amount a real couple should, only to have to spend the night at a lonely bed.

“Jin, I’m cold”

“Well you sure aren’t planning on also taking my blanket from me, you’ve taken my bed already” he joked from his made up bed on the floor, which in hindsight, was probably even colder for him than for you

“Jin”

“No can’t do”

“Come cuddle me then” the words had left your mouth before your brain could even complete to process them, the situation all too familiar from years before, like muscle memory, your brain had just dwelled into a common relationship between the two, too easy to slip away from.

“Ohhh you’re already falling for worldwide handsome” he joked, only you knowing the truth his words hid behind them and you felt your face heat up, somehow deciding against backing up.

“Shut up just-” torn between spilling your “new found” feeling for him that were remains from a past love or keeping it the bare minimum “I’m cold”

“Fine, I’ll be there” he paused, and you knew him all too well to know that he was wearing a stuid grin on his face, wondering if by any chance the innocent banter had a deeper meaning for him too as he added “Almost fiancee”

You could hear a shuffling of blankets and him throwing his pillows on the bed before he literally jumped on it, whole body hovering over yours, his eyes glistening as they bore into yours as he kept his body weight on his extended hands, a familiar twist in your heart at the distance, his lips on yours in the blink of an eye for less than a second before he rolled off to the empty side of the bed

“What was that for?!” you panicked, not loud enough for anyone to hear but him

“I don’t know it felt right”

As you turned to confront him, the air suddenly didn’t feel as cold as before, a warmth enveloping you both that felt like home, like this place and time was exactly where you were supposed to be all along, your hands coming up to caress the side of his face as his larger ones tugged you closer to him effortlessly without breaking eye contact; both of your faces coming closer to each other, noses brushing against each other before your lips found his, an all too familiar setting for the both of you, everything feeling as if both of your lives had been a movie that had been unwillingly paused and someone had pressed play just as you were close like this, feeling as if all those years apart were nothing when together, his hot tongue lapping your lower lip as you granted him entrance, tongues dancing with one another as time seemed to slow down, a gasp escaping your lips as his cold hand found its way into your pajama pants “sorry, is this okay?” he whispered against your lips, to which you agreed, your own hands scurrying under his top to caress his torso, his lips finding your sweet spot under your ear all too easily, as if he had never forgotten about it, his pants straining by each passing second as you felt him grow harder against your thigh, hand going under the covers to palm him over the fabric, which made him exhale a moan in your ear, feeling yourself grow wetter at the display, all too familiar, yet not enough, you lunged yourself over him to straddle his hips, clothed core rubbing against his covered length in a futile attempt to ease the tension “ah- you’re sure about this, Y/N?” he found himself checking in with you before you both lost yourselves to pleasure “a hundred percent, Jin”.

Seokjin was quick to rid you both of your clothing, both of you grimacing at the cold and giggling about it for a second before you resumed your ways with one another, Jin’s tongue working its way down your body until he reached your folds, eating you out like a man starved, his hand finding yours to grip tight as he went down to business, lapping up your juices and working you to your first quieted orgasm of the night with a questionable experience, were you two to have never broken up in the first place; you quick to turn you both over so you were on top and ready to ride his apparently aching length as soon as he disctrated himself by kissing you post-bliss tasting yourself on his tongue, a smirk forming in his features as he reached on the bed side table to roll a condom on himself, your hands teasing him already as you muttered a “Your parents are in the next room” that was soon answered with a cocky “We shouldn’t let them hear then” before you lined him up with your entrance and slided down on him, hands gripping each other’s as you started working a pleasurable deep pace, moans tangling with the other’s, eyes fluttering shut and a lonely tear rolling down you cheek at all the emotions that you had pent up and were slowly releasing by each thrust as you buried your face on his neck, startling Jin and making you look down on him to check on you as he noticed you crying “Y/N, are you okay?” he muttered sweetly before kissing your lips in the sweetest form, hips stilling as he was buried deep inside you, him tossing you underneath him, angling his hips better and taking over a more passionate pace, plump lips kissing away your falling tears, as if knowing that they were caused by something bigger than the both of you “God you’re so beautiful” he said as his pace became erratic “Come with me please, Y/N” whether his words or the newly found position as he pulled a leg over his shoulder, hitting all the right spots, worked you to your second orgasm, followed by him spilling in the condom, would remain a mystery as he was quick to dispose the used condom and clean both of you as you edged on sleep, his naked torso colliding with your bare back as he cuddled you.

“What are they doing here?” You muttered under your breath as Jin leaned into your frame, your right arm intertwined with his as you both rounded the corner to greet the guests that Jin’s mother had so carefully selected for the engagement party

“What? Who?” his eyes scanned the room rapidly

“My father and- Seoyun and Junghee” his free hand rested on top of yours in an attempt to let you know he was there for you, having witnessed first hand all the history between you and your family and mentally cursing his mother for playing you so dirty

“Shit”

“Seokjin I can’t keep doing this” you turned to him, eyes panicked and wide on the verge of tears, his mind racing a hundred miles per second in search for the right words that would make you stay, he had already lost you before, and even though things didn’t quite turned out the way he had planned, he wasn’t about to let you slip away again “I can’t face them again, after all they’ve put me through, Seokjin, they took away my dreams just because I wouldn’t pace around like the rest of them, this is your life, not mine I’m so sorry” you had ran out of his grip and out the door before his brain could even begin to process it, blinking a few too many times before he called out to you

“Seokjinnie! What’s taking you so long?” his mother had gathered the guests in the garden for the grand entrance of the newly announced engagement, tired of being kept waiting, walking up to him

“I’m so sorry eomma, I’ll- I just- I have to go” in his mind he was already out the door looking for you, had it not been for his mother’s hand on his bicep keeping him on place and turning him to look at her

“Kim Seokjin, we get it. Your father and I will wait until you find a girl to marry, one that suits you well” Seokjin’s mother was sure a woman that could not be fooled, but this one time perhaps it was Jin that had been fooled by himself on letting himself get close to you and fall in love all over again, just the way it happened all those years ago, just the way it was supposed to be

“That’s what you don’t get mum, I’ve already found the one”

“Y/N? Jinnie, Y/N is not part of our world, you know it”

“Then I want to be part of hers. I don’t care if you take my trust fund, take everything, I’ll build myself up, just like she did all those years ago and all of us, we all turned our backs on her, I want to be there for her, like it should have been from the start” he would have loved to record the incredulity in his mother’s eyes as she let her arms fall to her sides defeated, the first time Kim Seokjin had fail to complied with his mother was about none other than in an engagement matter.

Truth be told, you couldn't go far, there was no possible way you could just run home all the way from Jeju Island, but somehow seeing your tear stained face as you slumped over an old set of swings that he now recalled, you two used to go to back in the day, had his heart filling up, butterflies roaming his tummy

“...Jin” you exhaled his name, his mind quickly recalling the night before, how your eyes spilled love all over, how the past days watching you go on your daily routine alongside him, had him imploding with the purest kind of love

“Y/N? Listen I-” he began, a thousand words tangled in his mind waiting to be released

“I don’t think I made it”

“Made what?”

“Your parents to like me” a smirk appeared in his features as his hand came up to caress the side of your face lovingly

“Well you certainly made me like you” he said, close enough to your lips that you could have sworn both of your breaths mixed into one

“I don’t think you ever stopped liking me” a mirroring grin traced your lips before you leaned in to kiss him, whatever the path you two were once destined to walk, it was all different now, whatever turns it may take the only sure thing was that you two would walk it down together after all those years apart.

Plus, technically speaking, Jin’s trust fund should remain intact since he found a wife in less than a month’s time, and you could always ask his dad for that place in the company he was always talking about.

#hyunglinenetwork #bangtanarmynet #networkbangtan #kim seokjin smut #seokjin smut #seokjin imagine #seokjin oneshot #seokjin x reader #seokjin fanfic #seokjin imagines #seokjin headcanon #seokjin fic #bts imagine #bts smut

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fatbottombucky · 4 years ago

Text

Three’s Company *Ransom Drysdale x Reader*

Summary: M!Reader’s girlfriend, Ella, wants a threesome. After discovering it’s going to be with another dude you set some ground rules, a clear rule being “no gay shit!”. Despite not being gay, yourself and Ransom find yourselves intently wanting Ella to be gone throughout the fucking.

Pairings: Male!Reader x Female Original Character/ Ransom Drysdale x Male!Reader / Ransom Drysdale x Female Original Character

Rating: [+18] Explicit

Warnings: Internal homophobia. Threesome shenanigans, female and male oral-giving and receiving. degrading talk. Swear words. Two men wanting to fuck one another, but they can’t cause of their internal homophobia.

Word Count: 2854

Note: There’s nothing against gays in this, lmao I am gay. It’s just mostly reader and ransom wanting to fuck but being like “we shouldn’t cause we’re straight! But I am going to look directly into his eyes as this girl sits on my dick!”

“When you said threesome I expected another female to be joining us,” you exasperated.

It was only a week ago when your girlfriend of eight months had propositioned you with the idea of a threesome. It had caught you off guard, nonetheless you agreed wholeheartedly. You weren’t a guy to shy away from sex adventures, you’ve seen and done plenty with women.

It’s what made Daniella, or Ella to you, so interested in you. You aren’t exactly in her social class, she comes from old money and has a trust fund, whereas you come from- well, no money and you work everyday of your life just to scrape by. You’ve often had the thought she’s only with you to rebel against her family, bringing you along to social gatherings to cause a fuss. It’s whatever. She’s beautiful and nice, so you’re willing to go along because, hey, you’re not alone then.

What caught you off guard was the third member she wanted, a male. You expected one of her high-class girlfriends, they’ve always had a keen interest in your relationship with Ella. Wondering why she’d be with you and for so long.

“Hell, no.” Ella grimaces like the thought of kissing another girl is repulsive, “I’d prefer to have another guy having their way with me.”

There’s a glint in her eyes, a playfulness. Her fluttering lashes normally work on you but not this time.

You’re apprehensive. The photo of the man in question serves him well; sharp jawline, piercing blue eyes and a wicked smirk, he oozes some sinful confidence that you severely lack. Who even is this guy? Where did she even meet him? Had this guy been the reason all along for the threesome to be brought up?

“Ransom Drysdale,” Ella smirks and flicks her eyes back to her phone, the picture still blindly on display. You almost snap the steering wheel off, deciding to focus on driving her Audi through the bustling New York streets. “He’s in New York right now, our families know one another and I’ve always wondered if the rumours are true about him.”

Great.

This guy has a reputation and she’s been thinking about it.

“I don’t know how I feel about another guy fucking you,” you somehow get out and the way she snaps her head to you, well this is going to be a big L in your books. “Or being with a guy in this setting, so what? I thought threesomes are where we all participate but I don’t wanna be with some guy like that.”

Ella snorts, she’s laughing at you. “How would a girl be any different?”

“I don’t know, Ella, it just would be different.”

“That’s so pathetic,” you roll your eyes and just stare at the road ahead, “You don’t have to do anything with him and anything I do with him you’ll be there. In fact, you can say right now if there’s anything you don’t want to happen. I just want two dicks, that’s all.”

There’s a beat of silence. “Besides Ransom isn’t gay, so he won’t even go near you like that.”

“This is so bizarre,” you muttered and shifted in your seat beside Ella. The restaurant was fancy, super expensive and elite. You had already downed half a glass of red wine-of which you expected cost more than the suit you were wearing. “Why are we getting dinner with him?”

Ella snickered and rolled her eyes. “Good manners, babe,” voice sweet as she looks at you.

You’d done some Googling on Drysdale when you got back to the hotel earlier. Whole family is filthy rich due to his grandfather, Harlan, famous murder-mystery writer. You haven’t read any of his books because books are commitments, more so than relationships.

Ransom’s name pops up in headlines every few weeks; new girls hanging off his arms or some outlandish story being featured on tabloids.

He’s not the type you’d personally hang out with, then again, Ella isn’t the usual company you keep.

“Sorry I’m late, Ellie.” You snap your head up as Ella stands up, embracing the well-dressed man. “Traffic was shit. You guys haven’t been here long, right?”

Yourself and Ella both speak at the same time. “No, of course not.”- “Twenty minutes, actually.”

You’re gifted a bitchy glare from Ella as you stand up, you’ve never been one to shy away from speaking up. Rich people aren’t an exception to your patience. This makes Ransom smirk at you though, clearly not offended or peeved off by your remark.

He shakes your hand firmly. “Ransom Drysdale, sure you’ve heard from me.”

“Y/N Y/L/N, honestly, only just learnt who you are today.” The three of you sit down and then you go silent, staring blankly at your glass of wine because what are the rules here?

Ella had told you she had asked Ransom. So, he knows why the three of you are here. But now what? You order food and eat, wine and dine, then fuck back at the hotel and that’s it. Of course, that’s it. There’s nothing else to do, but you can’t help but think there must be more steps. Some kind of conversation that needs to happen.

If there is a conversation that needs to happen, it doesn’t happen. Ella and Ransom are deep into conversation about ‘old times’. You sit just drinking and listening, usually how it is in your relationship. You never really have anything interesting to say to the wealthy, mostly because they wouldn’t listen anyway.

“So Y/N, what do you do?” Ransom’s voice is smooth and deep, his face is illuminated by the candles in the centre of the table. You raise an eyebrow at the causal question, “what? I think it’s better than me asking, why did you agree to let me fuck your girlfriend?”

You dryly chuckle and take another sip of wine, able to hold off on the question as your meals are placed before you. You contemplate and mull over his questions, either Ella hasn’t told him that you aren’t rich or he knows but wants to goad you into it anyway.

“Well, I work a lousy job as an accountant and I’m mostly paying off my student loans from university.” Better to be truthful than stupid in front of the rich. “Before you ask, no, I’m not using my degree at this job. I studied for five years to use it for nothing. I’m also agreeing because I’m no prude, done a few things and whilst I’d prefer you be another female, I can sort of see the appeal of two dicks.”

There’s a few seconds of just silence. Ella is volleying her eyes between you both. Ransom chews his steak slowly, eyes intently watching you and looking you over. It’s intense. You want him to stop, but you don’t look away.

A smirk spreads across his face and he nods. “We’re going to have fun tonight.”

“Splurged on the room then,” Ransom smirks as he unties his scarf, pulling it off of his neck and throwing it carelessly on the back of the armchair. “Must be nice to have the finer things,” he pats your shoulder roughly and gives you a knowing smile.

You shrugged, the nerves being knocked away from the liquid courage you guys have consumed. “Can’t complain about the nice rooms we stay in.” You walk over to the minibar and nod, Ransom gives a curt nod.

Ella scurries off towards the bedroom, a sultry smile of her ‘freshening up’ for the both of you.

“She’s told you the rules, right?” You asked and poured yourself another drink, Ransom let’s out a light chuckle as he sauntered over to you. You lift an eyebrow in question, “It’s just for… boundaries really, I’m sure you understand.”

The corner of Ransom’s mouth curls up, bringing the bourbon to his lips and taking a thoughtful sip, he’s standing close to you. Rubbing his shoulder against yours, he smells earthy and expensive, like spicy leather and musky mornings.

“I got your rules, don’t worry.” Placing the tumbler glass down. “More rules about us not doing stuff than me fucking your girl, though.”

You looked at him hesitantly and quickly looked away, downing your own drink hurriedly. Before you can defend yourself, not that you need to, Ella calls for you both. Standing in the bedroom doorway, hip leaning against the frame and her arms crossed.

Ella is dressed in nothing but simply lacy lingerie, that you know cost more than your rent. She looks beautiful, the lilac set matches her skin perfectly, hair is styled into a relaxed mused style- so you can play with it, you imagine.

“Are you boys coming to join me or not?”

That’s all the invitation you need before you’re walking around Ransom, placing your hands on her hips and pressing your lips to hers softly, she whimpers into your mouth before pulling away. Taking your hand and then extending her other towards Ransom, you chance a glance at the taller man.

His cock sure smirks makes you look away, taking Ella’s other hand and she pulls you both into the bedroom. The big, soft, luxurious bed would do fine at handling your three bodies.

You glance stiffly at the white sheets, well, now what? You know what to do when with just Ella but now you’re left in uncharted territory. Turning to look at the both of them once you’re stood in front of the bed, hands getting clammy for some reason.

“Well, undressed yourselves.” Ella smirks as she sits on the end of the bed with a bounce, crossing one leg over her other, leaning back on her elbows as she looks at them.

You start to unbutton your shirt, looking over at Ransom to see he was doing the same. You don’t take your eyes off of Ransom as you remove the shirt, letting the pale blue fabric to fall to the floor and then starting on your belt. Ransom begins to do the same, the clanging of his expensive Gucci belt is enough to numb your other senses.

You're both down to your boxers, both black Calvin Klines. Ella raises an amused eyebrow and allows her legs to fall open. Lifting a hand and crooking a finger in a come hither motion, you follow with little relcultance. Falling to her side and pressing open mouth kisses to her soft neck. One of your hands sneaking up and cupping one of her lacy breasts, squeezing the flesh harshly as you suck at her neck.

Ella let out a breathy moan, a sharp gasp escaping her at Ransom running his fingers over her clothed pussy. You help her sit up and unclasp her bra, allowing her perky breasts to slip free of the confines. Ransom slips the panties down her long legs before pushing her thighs apart, slotting himself between them.

For a brief moment you are captivated by him, watching as he languidly licked up her core and wrapped his plump, pink lips wrap around his clit. The moans Ella whines out are white noise, your brows furrow together and you wet your lips. You’re about to look away but Ransom looks up, capturing your eyes in with his deep blue ones. His left eye drops down into a playful wink.

You break out of his spell and look back at Ella, her eyes are screwed shut and her mouth is open wide, moans and groans leaving her wildly. You’re quick to attach your mouth to her nipples, already pebbled and peaked into hard nubs, lavishing her nipple with your tongue.

“God, your mouths,” she breathes harshly.

Time seems to meld as yourself and Ransom tease Ella with your tongues. You tease her nipples and softly bite on them as Ransom pushes two fingers into her and sucks on her clit. You both work in tandem, almost competitively, trying to see who can draw the most noises from her.

“You sure I’m not allowed to fuck this hole?” Ransom asked punctuating the question with a forceful thrust of his fingers.

His crude words make you shiver, a smirk pulling up on your mouth as your eyes narrow in delight. He’s asking permission, he certainly seems like the type to just take what he wants, save the consequence for whenever.

“You think you’ve earned it?” That question throws Ransom off, it even has Ella raising her eyebrows at you but you don’t spare her a glance. Your eyes bore into Ransom’s, unable to look away like the previous times.

Ransom grabs Ella’s ankle and flips her onto her stomach, tapping her hip and she raises them wordlessly, he gives you a questioning glare.

“She likes it hard and deep,” you sit up on your knees, a hand softly running through her hair and gripping it tightly, “don’t hold back, Ran. I won’t be,” you pull down your boxers with your other hand and free your straining cock.

You haven’t felt this hard in a while; you put it down to the fact this is new and exciting. You push the leaking tip into Ella’s waiting mouth, she hums approvingly around your girth. A low groan falls from your lips and you look up in time to see Ransom rid himself of his own underwear.

A large hand is wrapped around his own cock, rubbing it lazily and, for some reason, you can’t take your eyes off of his member. Seeing him naked has stolen your air away; his whole body is immaculate and strong, truly a vision.

You shake your head when Ella gags around your length, slowly pulling it out of her before looking up. Ransom had caught you staring at him, but instead of a disgusted look like you thought he’s wearing a curious look. An unreadable look.

As he pushes in his impressive length he gives you a look, his hands gripping Ella’s hips tightly. The warm caven of Ella’s mouth envelopes you again, you moan loudly but you’re unable to look away from Ransom and he seems to not be able to look away from you either.

“That’s it,” Ransom grunts as he starts to pound Ella from behind causing her body to jolt, pushing her further onto your cock.

The force of his thrusting hips and yours into her mouth, using Ella to reach your peaks. Finding a hard and rough rhythm together. A pushing and pulling rhythm. You’re both grunting and groaning, looking into one another's eyes intensely.

Ella’s whimpers and gagging sounds are numb to your ears, only focused on Ransom. His eyebrows are drawn together, jaw is clenched and his eyes are hard; dark and lust filled.

“You like that?” The question momentarily makes you stutter, Ransom locked on you but Ella hums in admission.

It wasn’t directed at her, though.

You nod once, careful to only groan loudly and not make it seem that it’s going to be Ransom that’ll make you cum.

“Of course, you do!” Ransom chuckles darkly, thrusting into Ella harder and grinding his cock deep into her, “fucking filthy. Dirty little whore for me, aren’t you?” Again Ella answers in whimpers and spit slicked sounds, but you have Ransom’s attention.

“Going to cum, I can feel it. Go ahead, fuckin’ cum for me.”

Your hips stutter deep in Ella’s throat, she gags but groans at the feeling. You cum down her tight throat, copious amounts of cum spurting out of you, a strained growl is yelled from you. Eyes being forced shut at the suddenness of your orgasm.

Ella greedily swallows every drop, licking your cock clean as you slowly drag it out of her mouth and fall back against the bed. Beads of sweat across your forehead and chest, Ella looks at you and smiles before whining again. Ransom keeps going ramming into her harder and faster, his eyes still scorned onto you.

You watch as Ella reaches her peak rather quickly after you, trembling under Ransom and whimpering, you sit up and cup her face in your hands. Kissing her softly before pulling away, looking up at Ransom who has his eyes shut before looking down at you.

“Cum inside of her.” You demand without hesitation and Ransom seems to take it.

His whole body becoming rigid and spasming, hips stilling inside of Ella as he cums deep within her walls. It’s a few silent seconds of heavy breathing. Till he pulls out and sinks back on his hunches, chest heaving and hair stuck to his forehead.

Despite the fact you both had such an intimate moment during this, you can’t bring yourself to look at him in the eye now. Knowing you orgasmed because of him, that you likely got hard because of him.

It’s weird. It’s odd. Ella stretches out on the bed, a low hum of approval to what just happened coming from her.

“Give me a few minutes and we can change positions and one of you can stick it in my ass.”

A deep part of you wished she’d fall asleep and it was just yourself and Ransom.

(Let me know what you think!!! So, yeah... I am writing a part 2 where Ransom and Male Reader get some alone time and get to... do some activities ;) but I wanted it to be like this whole weird sexual competitiveness between them with little moments of mxm - Rosalie)

#ransom thrombey #ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale x male reader #ransom drysdale x male!reader #ransom drysdale smut #ransom thrombey x reader #ransom drysdale one shot #chris evans x reader #chris evans smut

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brywrites · 4 years ago

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Flight Risk IX

Summary: An answer to the age old CM question, “who’s flying the plane?” And the story of a pilot and a profiler. Part IX: In which a profiler and a pilot try their best not to care, featuring an incredibly tacky hotel.

(Series Masterlist) ( Previous | Next )

----

The case closes. When it’s time to go home, Reid sees her leaning against the wall of the hangar with a book. Their eyes meet. He stops walking, frozen to the ground. And in response, she walks away and disappears into the jet. Neither of them knows what to say. She gives herself over to the sky, he loses himself in paperwork. The jet has never felt so big. Like there are miles between them instead of just mere feet.

Y/N thinks of Peter Pan. “The moment you doubt whether you can fly you cease for ever to be able to do it.” She doesn’t know what they are to each other anymore. Are they still friends? Were they ever at all? Was Arthur right all along? Maybe she simply is made for staying, not with her airplane heart. Hopelessly circling, never quite finding a place to land.

Reid has never had to do this before, to hurt someone in this way. He’s not sure how to reach out to her after putting this distance in place. And so he doesn’t. It doesn’t ease the loneliness. Only Garcia notices the change, when he stops talking about her.

“She told you how she felt, didn’t she?” Penelope asks, her cheerful smile deflating. Reid averts his gaze. The pained look on Garcia’s face mirrors the ache in his chest. “Oh, Reid,” she says. “Do you really still believe that you’re not allowed to be happy?”

“But you looked so happy together,” Yeeqin laments when Y/N tells her what happened. “I just don’t get it.” She and her girlfriend Saoirse offer to key his car, an offer Y/N promptly refuses. They’re both hurting enough as is. And besides, knowing Yeeqin she’d vandalize the wrong car and need someone to bail her out. After the “graffiti incident of 2014,” Y/N has no interest in doing so again.

And so they stay away. Things return to the way they always were – pilots and profilers. Two separate worlds on the same G550 jet. The only exchanges are simply pleasantries or requests from the team to the pilots, but they never come from Reid. Or announcements about takeoff and landing that almost always come from Captain Dobson. On the rare occasions when Y/N’s voice floods into the cabin, he closes his eyes and lets himself imagine that she’s speaking only to him. Sometimes when the agents disembark from the plane, she watches him go from the cockpit window and tries to remember what it was like when they sat so close.

He stops arriving early. She stops reading in the hangar if she’s not on the jet. They both pretend it’s normal. They both pretend it’s possible for them not to care. That it’s easy, that it doesn’t bother them one bit to be apart like this. That it wasn’t better before.

Y/N goes to dinner at Arthur and Malik’s house. Martin and Theresa are there and she runs around the yard with their older children, Carolyn and Benedict, and coos over baby Douglas. They share cocktails and swap stories and it feels so good to be surrounded by her own team, this makeshift family of aviators. She has movie nights in with Yeeqin and goes out with her and Saoirse anytime they invite her along and it’s so nice to be among friends. But then Martin looks at Theresa with all the love in the world and Saoirse falls asleep on Yeeqin’s shoulder in the cab on the way home and it’s acutely apparent to her that something is missing in her life.

Reid distracts himself with work and with books and tells himself that he’s always been just fine this way, with words and obligations instead of laughter over takeout or meetings at coffee shops. But then he discovers Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close in his bottom desk drawer at work, the copy she’d loaned to him and he’d sworn he would remember to give back to her and suddenly he’s trying not to cry in the bullpen and he doesn’t quite know why.

She learns from Arthur, who knew him, that Spencer’s mentor has been killed. And she can see on their next case that he’s hurting. The sadness in his eyes, the exhaustion evident in his slumped posture makes her want to run to him and wrap him in a hug, hold him close like he held her that night on the couch. But she’s not supposed to care about him anymore.

He sees the way she looks back at him as she boards the jet that day, her eyes lingering on him for just a fraction too long, and he thinks that just maybe she’s going to say something to him. But she doesn’t and he’s not sure if he’s relieved or disappointed. Either way, Gideon’s death seems only to prove his theory – the people he loves get hurt.

When they come home from the bombing case in Indianapolis, he’s drained from a week of mourning and a grueling chess match with Rossi. As Reid stands in the hangar searching for his keys in his bag, he hears, “Doctor Reid,” and turns to see Captain Dobson standing a few feet away.

“Yes?” he asks.

The captain opens his mouth, falters, and then says, “I’m sorry for your loss.” The sentiment is confusing, as he already told Reid this as he boarded the plane three days earlier. But perhaps Dobson has forgotten the conversation. So he thanks the captain and continues on his way.

Y/N and Reid seek solace in their friends, in their books, in the places that make them feel safe. And they try so hard to convince their hearts that they don’t feel anything that they wonder if it was ever even real to begin with. And for a little while, they almost believe it.

But then comes Nashville.

---

“Did you see the picture Martin sent of baby Douglas in his pilot’s cap?” Y/N asks.

“I did,” Arthur says. “It was cute.”

“The cutest thing I’ve ever seen!” she insists. “I wish he could bring the kids by for a visit sometime, I’m sure they’d love to check out the jet. Do you remember being a kid and how they’d let you go visit the flight deck and see how a plane worked? And they’d give you those little plastic pilots wings?”

“Relics of a bygone era,” Arthur sighs. “I’m sure I still have a pair of PanAm Junior Pilot wings stashed in a box somewhere.” The millennium ushered in a new vision of aviation security and sharp pins and strangers in the cockpit simply aren’t considered protocol anymore. “How are we looking?”

Y/N glances at the altimeter and airspeed indicators. “Flying at 46,000 feet. Currently at Mach point nine. Should be about one hour and ten minutes to destination.”

“Let the cabin now we’ve reached out cruising altitude, will you?” Arthur asks. Typically it’s her job to shift the jet into cruise while Arthur makes the announcement, but she nods and takes the speaker.

“Good afternoon passengers, this is your co-pilot speaking. We’ve reached our cruising altitude of 46,000 feet. At this time please feel free to resume using electronic devices and move about the cabin. We expect to be landing in Nashville in about an hour. Skies are clear, should be smooth sailing ahead. In-flight refreshments will not be served, but you’re welcome to help yourselves to anything stocked in the galley.”

A part of her wonders if he thinks of her when he hears her voice. Not that it should matter anymore. Before she can lose herself in her own thoughts, Arthur asks, “Who Framed Roger Rabbit?”

“Lincoln,” she decides after a moment to think. “Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf?”

Arthur says, “The Terminator,” without missing a beat. The captain is well-versed in cinema, which makes Double Feature one of his favorite in-flight games. The first movie must always be a question, and whoever can come up with the best films in response is declared the winner. Arthur almost always wins, and it’s a challenge to think up films they haven’t already used.

“What’s Eating Gilbert Grape?”

“Hannibal.”

“That’s terrible,” Arthur laughs.

“Dude, Where’s My Car?”

“Brokeback Mountain.”

“Oof, that’s gonna be a long and sad trek to retrieve it,” she sighs. “I’m not prepared for that kind of emotional devastation.” But the game does help to take her mind off of what she’s really feeling. She can lose herself in words and not in wishes. They land GEFF gently on the tarmac in Nashville and when they pull around to the hangar, she doesn’t look out the side window. Y/N stares straight ahead at the horizon. The sky fades from deep royal blue to soft pale periwinkle where the distant skyline rises up to meet it and she loves every single shade in between.

Once the team has departed, she and Arthur walk through the cabin tidying up and making note of anything that needs to be cleaned or restocked prior to takeoff. Arthur won Double Feature (“O Brother Where Art Thou?” “Soylent Green.” “Oh, that is incredibly twisted!”) so it’s her turn to clean the bathroom. Fortunately a short flight like this means it’s fairly clean to begin with. She wipes sanitizes the sink and toilet, empties the paper towel bag, makes sure there’s enough soap and toilet paper. Garbage is deposited in the trash can at the back of the hangar and they return to Geff to grab their own go-bags.

“Listen, Y/L/N,” Arthur says as they lock the cockpit door. “About the IRT job.”

“Arthur,” she cuts him off. “I really don’t want to talk about this right now.” When he looks as though he’s about to protest she adds, “Please. I just want to go to hotel and take a nap and watch whatever silly romcom is on pay per view.”

He nods and says nothing more. They catch a rideshare from the airport together and she stares out the window at the buildings and billboards that line the roads. She already knows what she’s going to do about the offer. She made her decision after her conversation with Spencer. The choice was clear. But she doesn’t want to discuss it yet. She’s not ready.

They step into the lobby of the Graduate Hotel and her mouth falls open. It’s hideous. There’s a fuzzy tapestry – a fuzzy tapestry of a woman with a hat against a pink background that appears to be made out of the same material as a shag rug. The lamps at the concierge desk have hot pink floral patterns on them. A neon installation that looks similar to a vintage gas station sign announces vacancies in bright green and red light. The armchairs are blue velvet and the hanging lights look like tulle skirts. There’s too much happening at once.

“This is the ugliest hotel I’ve ever seen,” she says.

“Well the more affordable ones were nearly full – evidently this is a big weekend for admitted students at Vanderbilt – they had to double up all of the rooms for the team. But the Bureau managed to get us a discount here,” Arthur replies as they stand at the desk waiting for someone to check them in.

“I suppose a bunch of special agents wouldn’t blend in well at a place like this,” she admits. Hopefully they solve the case quickly and she’s not stuck here too long. True to her word she spends the first night relaxing in her room. The bathroom is beautiful – black walls with gold accents and a glass shower. The room itself is another story. The carpet is a rainbow of jewel-toned diamonds in a quilt-like pattern. The walls are pink and white striped, a candelabra sits next to a pink television. White curtains with a vibrant floral pattern line the window and form a hanging behind the bed. The bed, mercifully, has the standard white blankets and white pillows, though there is hot pink chevron quilt draped over the end and an eerie portrait of Dolly Parton stares at her from above the headboard. Y/N shudders.

Penelope Garcia calls her that evening. She’s waiting to hear back from the team and could use some virtual company. “I don’t even know if you’d like this place,” Y/N tells her. “It’s so garishly tacky. Like a sorority girl and her antique-collecting grandmother chose items from their storage closet at random.”

“Oh it can’t be that bad,” Garcia says.

“Penelope, I am ever the optimist. I love quirky, whimsical adventures. But this is something else. The Dolly Parton painting keeps staring at me, I swear!”

“Let me look it up.” There is the sound of fingers frantically typing on a keyboard. “Oh come on now, the lobby is way cute! And the patio? I just – oh. Oh my. Oh those rooms. You’re right. That’s bad. That’s very bad.”

“I told you!”

“That went from cute to crikey very quickly,” she agrees. After takeout for dinner and watching Serendipity, Y/N falls asleep under the unnervingly watchful eye of Dolly. The next day is completely free, and she heads out to explore the city. Wherever she ends up, she tries to take advantage of the adventures available to her. Just blocks from the hotel she discovers Nashville’s Parthenon – a full-scale replica of the Greek temple which hides an art museum inside. She wanders the galleries and stands at the entrance staring up at the pillars holding the roof up. What would it be like to visit the real thing? She wonders how many times the IRT has gone to Greece before. Maybe they’ll end up in Athens sometime this year.

Café Coco is the cutest coffee shop she’s seen in any city, and she grabs tea and a scone before returning to Centennial Park. Beneath the barely blossoming trees she sits and reads Dandelion Wine. It’s beautifully written and full of longing. That longing seeps through the pages and she can feel it in her bones. Nostalgia for times past and places far behind and things that cannot be. Everything that Spencer said it would be. As she reads she tries to imagine which lines would have made him smile or elicited a wistful sigh. Are the parts she loves most the same as the parts he loves most?

Her phone buzzes with a text form Arthur to ask if she wants to get lunch together at the hotel bar, and she shoves the book and her longing back in her bag and walks over to meet him.They step from the tacky lobby into a bar that seems remarkably normal. String lights and chandeliers cast an inviting ambient glow over the wooden tables and chairs. Country music is playing over the speakers. But as they she and Arthur move closer towards an open table, she sees it. The stage.

“What is that?” she asks. There’s a bear, a pig, and a fox in a wig atop a stage that says Cross-Eyed Critters. Each holds an instrument. And it’s then that she realizes the music is coming from them. It’s an animatronic band. Their eyes and mouths move as they sing and their fabricated bodies turn and jerk with the beat. “What?” she asks again, completely dumbfounded. “What?”

Arthur too is speechless. Then he shakes his head and says, “It’s nothing a drink or two won’t make more palatable.” She snaps a photo on her phone and texts it to Garcia, who will surely get a kick out of it.

As they sit down, a voice announces a new song over the speakers. A slightly tipsy looking man in a pair of red cowboy boots comes to stand in front of the stage. He has a microphone. The animatronics begin to play the opening notes of a song, and then the man begins to sing. This is not just a bar with an animatronic band, it’s an animatronic karaoke bar. The man in the red boots belts out an uncomfortably off-key version of a Kenny Rogers song –“You’ve got to know when to hold ‘em, know when to fold ‘em, know when to walk away and know when to run!”– with just a little too much bravado.

“I think I’ll need that drink sooner rather than later,” Arthur admits begrudgingly. She has to laugh. This hotel, it seems is full of surprises. But the captain is right. When she receives a spiked cream soda and Arthur has a glass of bourbon and there’s a plate of tacos between them, it’s easier to tune out the karaoke band. She can just enjoy her drink and the light and the stories of Arthur’s first flights with the BAU that have her nearly in tears from laughing so hard. For someone who maintains such a serious demeanor most of the time, he knows how to tell a joke incredibly well. She’s always appreciated that about him.

“Y/N, there is something I wanted to talk with you about,” Arthur says. His tone changes and she knows the time for joking is over. “We need to discuss the IRT offer.” Before he can continue, her phone rings. She glances at the screen. It’s Penelope. Y/N sends it to voicemail. There will be time to discuss the disconcerting robot band later when she’s back in her room. Right now, she needs to focus on Arthur. She knows where this is going and he’s right. She can’t keep putting this off forever. She has to talk about this, and everything that it means.

“I’ve already made my decision,” she begins to say. But her phone begins to ring again, and her heart drops into her stomach. This isn’t about the picture. This is urgent. Arthur must realize it too. His eyes trail down to her phone and she hesitantly picks it up.

“It’s Garcia,” she tells him, before answering. “Hello?”

“Y/N, oh thank goodness you picked up.” The analyst’s voice is a little higher than usual, a little more strained. “It’s Reid. He’s in the hospital.”

#flight risk #fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #imagine #reid x reader #spencer reid x reader

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wickedbarnes · 5 years ago

Text

m o n s t e r.

pairing: ransom drysdale x reader

prompt: ransom absolutely hates being rejected. he loathes it, it wounds his ego. so when he finds out that you weren't interested in him, the sheer determination of having you slowly turned into an unhealthy obsession.

trigger warnings: smut. non-con. dubcon. drugging. blackmailing. dark!ransom. do NOT read if any of these make you uncomfortable. 18+ readers ONLY.

note: i'm sorry if the smut may not be that good. i promise i'm trying to improve my smut writing skills :(

Ransom was the type of man who always gets what he wants one way or another. He wasn't the type to back down from a challenge nor was he the type to lose. He always makes sure he wins at the end. For him, nothing tasted so sweet than to have things go his way. He was that type of man and he was proud to admit that.

If he wanted a new car, he'd get it. If he wanted to party on the other side of the goddamn world, he'd book a ticket in a blink of an eye. If he wanted to fuck a girl or two, he'd get them on his knees in an instant. Ransom was a man who had everything. Power, wealth, good looks, you name it.

Being a Thrombey had its perks after all despite how much he dislikes his family.

But of course, there was this... unfortunate fact that not everything went his way. And he realized this the moment he laid eyes on the newest maid inside his grandfather, Harlan's mansion.

Y/N is what they called you. You were only working part-time as a means of earning money while you studied at college. It won't be long 'till you graduated so the student loans that you had needed to be paid and Harlan was generous and kind enough to pay you well.

Ransom took note of how full of life you were. Your eyes held some sort of innocence and purity in them. In fact, he'd be surprised if he ever found out you weren't a virgin. You seemed like the type that had never been properly touched by a man before. Either that, or you just hid that secret so well.

You greeted everyone kindly with a smile on your face and Ransom was sure everyone would be doting on you in no time. But when your doe eyes had fell on him, he saw the hesitation in them. But you quickly masked it with a faint smile, not quite as bright as the one that you gave to the others.

"Welcome back, Hugh." You'd say. And dare say, Ransom was impressed that you already knew he preferred that he was called Hugh by the helpers.

And you did. The first time you were hired, Marta and Fran were kind enough to show you around and taught you how things worked around here, even showed you how to properly serve Harlan's family members. However, it was Marta who told you about Hugh. You could remember her telling you to strictly steer clear from him and that whatever you did, you will only refer to him as Hugh.

And you, being the obedient employee that you are, you weren't planning on causing trouble and made sure to make mental notes of what she said.

So far, you were doing great. You were confused however, as to why she'd tell you to avoid him but when you saw how he treated his family members and the helpers that served him, you instantly understood why you needed to do so.

An asshole.

That's what Ransom Drysdale was.

Days passed during their visit to the mansion, you found yourself trying to stop yourself from giving Ransom a piece of your mind. You just couldn't handle rude people. They never settled well with you. And as quiet and bashful as you were most of the time, you had quite the mouth on you when someone deserves to be taught a lesson.

But by extension, Ransom was kind of your employer. If you upset him, there was no way in hell he wouldn't tell his grandfather. And you didn't want to disappoint Harlan now that he had done so much for you.

So instead, you kept your mouth shut and just continued to do your job.

But your reactions didn't go unnoticed by the cold-hearted playboy. He knew you disliked him. And in a way, he found it amusing. It wasn't the first time he heard of people not being quite fond of him. Most of the time, he didn't care. But with you, it somehow makes him chuckle.

In all honesty, he found you adorable trying to suppress what you wanted to say to him whenever he talked shit to his family or to Fran or Marta. He saw how you'd scowl and walk away from the scene just so you wouldn't burst and make you put him in his place if that's even possible. As if he'd let anyone dominate him.

It started out small, really. He had woken up early and found you wiping the windows clean. You wiped the sweat that was forming on your forehead as Ransom went downstairs, making his presence known. You turned around and saw him smiling softly at you.

"Good morning, Y/N." He greeted you and to say you weren't quite taken aback would be a lie. But you weren't rude like Ransom and he knows that. So instead of ignoring him, you forced a smile back and slowly brushed passed him to make your way to the laundry room. But not before you greeted him back.

"Good morning, Hugh." You'd say. And just like that, you were out of his grasp.

After that exchange, you'd find Ransom out in the garden with you as you watered the plants, in the kitchen where you'd help prepare food, in the laundry room where you tried to clean everyone's dirty clothes. He was there, trying to start up a conversation with you. But all of which you gave such limited answers to.

You didn't want to indulge him of trying to get to know you. You knew better than to let your guard down with men like Ransom. He was the kind of man that your mother had warned about. And you knew better than to be fooled by him.

Your headstrong personality despite your shyness and innocence showed through whenever you'd politely tell Ransom to leave you be. And that surprised him a lot.

Because no one had been able to tell him to leave them alone. When it came to women, they would lunge themselves and kneel down at Ransom's feet, worshipping him as if he were God in the flesh. They would do all that just to get a taste of the infamous Thrombey Golden Boy. But you, you had asked him to leave you be.

"I'm working, Hugh. And I would gladly appreciate it if you don't distract me. I'd like to finish early I still have homework to finish." You'd say as you busied yourself by cleaning one of the guest rooms that was bigger than your apartment itself.

Ransom stood there silently and you worried for a moment as to why he hadn't said anything. Turning around to look at him, you saw him frozen on his spot but soon enough, he nodded his head briskly and left you in the room without a word.

But if he was being honest, what you said had offended him so much. That was the closest thing to "No" that he had ever received from a woman. And it drove him fucking crazy.

Oh but no, he wasn't going to give up. You were just playing hard to get that's all. Women love a good chase. And you were simply not going through your senses. Ransom was confident that soon enough, you'd realize just how lucky you are that he was even bothering on paying attention and pouring his time on a maid like you.

He could have any girl he wanted. Models, cheerleaders, business women, fucking porn stars and yet he was focusing on you. Sometimes Ransom forgets why he was even wasting his time but then he remembers that he doesn't take no for an answer.

You were beautiful, he admits that. You weren't a model nor were you an actress but you were beautiful nonetheless. Ransom was sure that you could turn heads whenever you walk in public. That was one of the reason why he seemed so hooked up on you.

But another was that you were unlike any woman he has met before. You were innocent but you weren't an idiot. He could see fire in your eyes and he sensed that you were the kind of woman that would easily carry herself. You didn't need a man by your side to help you. In fact, you didn't even need a man to make you happy.

And that kind of a whole new thing to Ransom. You were like the fresh apple in the forbidden tree. So ripe for the taking You were like a breath of fresh air to him. All the other women he had been with, they all seemed to want to depend on him. They all seemed as if they couldn't even stand on their own two feet.

But that wasn't you.

And Ransom realized you weren't playing hard to get. The real problem was that you weren't interested in him at all. It took him days to realize that. Days of silently persuading you to at least pay attention to him. Days of silently hoping you would fall into his trap just like all those girls he trapped back then. But no, it didn't work on you.

No matter how much he pretended to be nice, no matter how much he had tried to make a conversation with you, even trying to mellow down his attitude towards his family and the helpers, he just didn't stand a chance.

And that. Drove. Him. Insane.

Ransom couldn't have this, no. He had to have you. It wasn't something he wanted to do. It was something he needed to do. It was as if having you was something that his life depended on it. He needed to take you. Stake his claim and make you his. He had never wanted to claim someone so much as he did with you. You had that effect on him now.

All because you refused to let him have you.

The more you refused, the more he craved you. The more he got addicted. The more he got obsessed at the thought of finally having you writhing underneath him.

But that was just that, a thought. An imagination for him. A sick dream of his that made him wake up with a raging boner that pushed him to stroke his own throbbing member but not before he moans out your name from his lips.

That was, until it finally turned into reality.

The Thrombeys had thrown a little get together and almost all of them got drunk. Thankfully, you didn't have class tomorrow so you didn't mind staying in so late. You can just call a cab or stay in the maid quarters until you can go home. It was also your day off the next day anyways.

The wealthy family had finally retrieved to their respective rooms leaving you to clean up all the empty glasses and liquor bottles that were strewn all over the table. The Thrombeys really do get roudy when they're drunk.

Fran had to tend to Harlan because of Marta's absence. According to her, she had important matters to attend to and that left you with the duty and washing these glasses and putting them away.

You were finally finished with the task when you turned around and jumped when you saw Ransom leaning in against the doorway with a faint smile on his face.

"Jesus, Hugh, you scared me." You'd say, putting your hand over your chest making him chuckle as you walked out of the kitchen and into the dining room where you began to tidy up the table again.

"I told you, you can call me Ransom." He replied but you just sighed in response, refusing to call him that, not wanting to give him what he wants no matter how small.

"You should be in bed." You said already knowing he'd notice the change in the subject.

"So should you but here you are cleaning." Ransom walked over to you and placed a glass of champagne in front of you while another was in his hand.

"What's this?"

"Champagne." He answered as if you didn't know what was in front of you.

"I know but why are you giving it to me?"

Ransom let out a breath and traced the rim of the glass with his calloused fingers.

"You'd been working nonstop today, I thought you should treat yourself somehow."

You sighed, "Hugh, I can't take this. I can't drink while I'm working. Plus, it'd be inappropriate of me to drink with my employer's grandson."

"Oh, come on, Y/N. It's just one glass, it won't hurt. My grandfather even offered you some earlier. I'm sure he wouldn't mind if you drank one right now." He picked up the glass and pushed yours into your hands so you had no choice but to grab it or else, the glass would break and the drink would spill.

"Come on, just one drink. I promise it won't be that bad. And then I'll leave you alone to rest." Ransom smiled down at you and your gaze averted back and forth to him and the glass of champage in your hands.

Maybe one drink wouldn't hurt, right?

"Ugh, fine. Just one though, that's it." You replied, finally giving in and Ransom had to bite the inside of his cheek hard to keep himself from smiling too wide from what he heard.

He raised his glass to you with a smirk on his face, "To working hard and paying student loans."

You rolled your eyes at him but grinned at his words before you clinked your glass with his.

"To working hard and paying student loans." You said before you took a big chug of your drink, finishing it in one go and you had completely missed the way Ransom had looked down at you with a devilish look in his eyes as he drank his champagne the same time as you did.

You placed down your glass on the table and quietly thanked him for the drink. You walked passed him but Ransom stayed at his spot and finished his champagne and as if he timed it perfectly, he heard a thud on a floor that caused him to smirk in a sinister way.

The drug worked fast just like he knew it would. Usually it would take time but he didn't have the patience for that so he doubled the dosage. Ransom grabbed both your empty glasses and washed it neatly before he put it in the dishwasher.

He didn't want to leave any trace of evidence after all. But it wasn't like you were gonna tell anybody anyway.

Ransom came back to the dining room and gently picked you up in his big arms bridal style, making you look like a damsel in distress who just got rescued by a knight in shining armor. Except, it wasn't like that at all.

He quietly made his way upstairs, looking down at your face every once in a while. Grinning at how adorable you looked while you were unconscious in his arms.

Soon enough, Ransom had successfully walked into his room and placed you down on the bed gently. He walked by the door once again and made sure it was locked before he made his way to your sleeping figure once again and took his time to just admire your features.

He stroked your cheek gently as he took his time to appreciate your gorgeous body that was still clad in your clothing. And Ransom wanted nothing more than to rip everything off of you but he knew he had to wait until you woke up.

So instead, he pulled away and took his time by taking a bath.

Meanwhile, your eyelids were starting to flutter open, your body felt heavy and you couldn't even bring to at least move your fingers. God, what happened?

When your vision finally adjusted, you realized that you weren't in your apartment nor were you in the maid quarters. Where were you? Did you pass out? How'd you pass out?

But then you remembered. You were cleaning the dining room when Ransom came in and offered you champagne. And then you finally agreed to take a sip. After that, you passed out. Realization hit you like a truck and you willed yourself to at least sit up. It took some time and your body felt like jello as you did. As if every limb was asleep.

It was then that you realized that you were in Ransom's room. Why'd he take you here? Did he help you when you passed out? Why did you even pass out in the first place? Was it because you were exhausted? Or was it-

"Oh, you're awake." Ransom's voice caught your attention and you turned to see him walking out of the bathroom, his chest damp from taking a bath as droplets of water trickled down to his torso. He was only wearing a towel around his hips to at least hide his modesty.

You weren't blind to the fact that Ransom was indeed a handsome man. But looks didn't matter to you if the person was a complete dick. So you groaned and looked away, rubbing your temple as your head pounded quite a bit.

Ransom didn't like your reaction at all. Usually, women would gasp or at least their jaw would drop upon seeing him half naked in front of them. But you, you looked away. You didn't even blush. Nor did you at least stare at him.

Did you not find him attractive at all? No, that's not it. Maybe you were just distracted by the drug he induced inside your drink. You were just waking up from it after all.

"What happened, Hugh? How'd I pass out? I don't remember having a drink too many." You'd ask and carefully placed your legs down onto the floor as you now sat on the edge of the bed, not quite noticing how your skirt had risen up to the middle of your thighs.

"You didn't, yeah. Thankfully my dosage was right to just knock you out and not send you into a coma." He answered nonchalantly and your head shot up as you looked at him confused.

"Dosage? W-What are you talking about?"

Ransom rolled his eyes and slowly made his way over to you and you found yourself scooting further away from him while gripping onto the blanket right next to you.

You never noticed just how big he was compared to you. Not until now when he looked as if he was stalking his prey and he was the predator.

"You're really pretty, Y/N, you know that, right?" Ransom stood in front of you, his crotch leveling with your face but you were somehow thankful that he put his finger underneath your chin and tilted your head up to look at him.

"What are you doing, Hugh?" You asked him, your voice shaking quite a bit now as fear began to course through your veins. You knew Ransom had his moments and he had them a lot. But never did you realize he would get so... so aggressive. You were scared to say the least. Because then you never realized just how dangerous Ransom Drysdale could be until now.

"What am I doing? Oh, baby, I think I should be asking you that. You know, all this wouldn't have happened if you just spared a glance at me, you know? You walk around here looking all innocent with your head held high as if you didn't want my head in between those precious thighs of yours."

Your eyes widened, "W-What? What're you- Hugh, that's ridi-"

"Call me Ransom." He said, cutting you off as he gripped your jaw with his large hands, "God, do you even realize how much I fucking hate it when you call me Hugh?"

"But didn't you prefer the help calling you that?" You backfired but your voice seemed so weak. You wanted so bad to break away from him but you were afraid of what might happen if you did.

Was he armed? Would he hurt you? Would he... no, Ransom wouldn't do that, would he?

Would he?

"I do. But I can't let my best girl call me Hugh it... it really gets on my nerves, Y/N. Sometimes I think you're doing it on purpose. Just like how you haven't given into me all this time that I've been here. Tell me, were you playing hard to get? Is that what this is, you love the game of cat and mouse? You love the chase, hm?"

You were so confused. Why was he so round up? Why did he seem so angry? And what the hell did he mean by playing hard to get? Your thoughts were cut short when Ransom held your face harshly in his hands, looking down at you with dark eyes instead of his usual azure colored orbs.

This was a completely different Ransom. Hell, was this the real Ransom all along? Predatory and dangerous?

"I'm fucking asking you a question here, baby, I expect a fucking answer from you." His voice was deep, husky and it only sent shivers down your spine because of how scared you were right now.

"I don't understand what's going on, Hugh." You whimpered as your hands slightly began to shake on your lap, "I don't know why I'm here or what you mean by playing hard to get, I'm not playing hard to get, I'm not playing any games with you I was just doing my job."

Tears began to cascade down your cheeks and Ransom's face softened a bit. But he was shocked when he felt as if he was guilty for making you cry. He had made many women cry but he never felt any ounce of guilt before. Why'd he feel it when it comes to you?

Ransom shushed and cooed at you as he gently wiped your tears away with his thumb.

"Don't cry, doll. Well, as much as you look pretty when you cry, I'd prefer it if you didn't." He smiled before he crouched down in front of you.

"I just don't understand, Y/N. I did everything I could. I tried to act nice, I tried to help you around with your chores even if you'd tell me countless of times that you didn't need my help, I even convinced my grandfather to give you a raise because of how hardworking you are. Why did you think you were getting paid more than the other helpers around here, huh? I did all that and all you do to repay me was to pull away? That's quite rude, baby." He tutted and began to trace random patterns onto your thighs which made jump and push his hand away.

"See now, that's what I was fucking talking about. You always push me away. No matter what I do, no matter what tricks I have up my sleeve, you break away and dare I say I'm starting to lose my patience here."

He sighed and put his hand back on your thigh and you let out a sob as you couldn't push him away now. Your body still felt like jello you could hardly move your limbs properly. And you knew that if you break away, Hugh would catch you, it would be useless.

"I did all that I could to lure you in, to let you fall into my charms and let me have you but no, I guess all of that didn't work. Do you realize just how many women would kill to be in your place, hm? How they'd pay you millions of money just so they could replace you? And yet here you are, being so ungrateful. But I commend you, Y/N. You're the first woman to ever reject my advances. And as much as I fucking hated it, I'm impressed."

You brows furrowed as you finally put two in two together. That was all it was? All of this because you had wounded his large fucking ego? The fear on your face was replaced with anger and the fact that Ransom was looking at you amusingly didn't help at all.

"That was all this, Hugh? All of this, all the drugging that you did to me, all those pretentious acts that you pulled was all just because you could get me to sleep with you? All because you can't take no for answer? How fucking desperate and idiotic can you be?" You spat but it all happened so fast when Ransom suddenly slapped you across the face causing your head to whip up to the side.

His eyes widened as you turned back to look at him, your cheek now sporting a red mark. You were shocked. But you quickly gathered your composure and uttered words that caused Ransom to see nothing but red.

"I'd return the slap if I even took you as a man, Ransom." Ransom. You finally uttered Ransom from your lips. He should be happy you finally called him that. But his name accompanied by those words made something in him snap.

Ransom pushed you down on the bed and placed himself in between your thighs as his hand wrapped around your throat but not enough to choke you just tight enough to instill fear back in your body. Your skirt hiked up and Ransom smirked at the sight of your white cotton panties fully in display for him now.

Even your undergarments were as innocent as you.

"I've had enough, Y/N. You really pushed my limits now. Didn't your mother taught you how to respect your superiors, hm?" His hands rubbed your thigh up and down and before you could even reply, he quickly yanked down your skirt causing you to shriek but Ransom quickly silenced you as he put his large hand over your mouth.

"You should know better than to fight, doll. Make this easier for the both of us, will you? You have no idea how much I fucking hate it when someone tells me no. Especially when it's coming from you." Ransom brushed his fingers against your core causing you to jump a bit and squirm in his arms but held you firmly in place causing you to still down on the bed.

You eyes widened as you felt Ransom pushing your panties to the side before you felt his finger sliding up and down against your folds. Although you had masturbated quite a number of times, you were a virgin. You were untouched and made a promise to yourself to give your virginity to a man that loves you just as much as you loved him. Who deserves to have every part of you.

But instead, it was going to be forcefully taken away from you by Ransom. The grandson of your employer. The Thrombey Golden Boy. The devil in the flesh.

Your eyes were wide and filled with fear and Ransom liked that. He liked how powerless you were compared to him. He liked having the control he has on you now.

Slowly, he took his hand off your mouth but not before he gave you a warning.

"If you ever scream for help or even wake anybody up inside this goddamn mansion, I'll be sure to ruin your life and we don't want that, do we?" You instinctively shake your head no and Ransom seemed satisfied by your response.

"And if you ever tell anyone about this, I'll find out. And when I do, you'll be unemployed in the blink of an eye. Your degree gone in a snap. In case you didn't know, we Drysdales are stakeholders at your school. I can easily demand to get you expelled. And if you make me unhappy, I'll even fabricate a story about you. That's not something you want to happen, right?"

You couldn't believe it. You couldn't believe what you were hearing. And it doesn't seem so real. How could Ransom be so cruel? Did the vanity that was coursing through his veins finally fucked his head up? Or was he always like this? Always craved for power and control?

Your questions remained unanswered while you managed to give Ransom another meekly nod causing him to smirk.

"Good girl. See, you're learning. And good girls deserve a reward." You felt his fingers rubbing circles on your clit. You gasped and shook your head as if you silently told your body not to give into the pleasure he was forcing on you.

Your slit began to get slippery and Ransom cooed at how embarrassed you seem when you started to get his fingers all soaking wet.

"No need to be embarrassed, baby, it's just me. I'll take care of you." Tears streamed down your face causing your cheeks to get all blotchy but even then, Ransom still wouldn't budge. In fact, he found you beautiful when you cried. It made you look more innocent and pure. As if you needed to be dependent on him.

"You're getting so wet, sweetheart. You don't mind if I slip a finger in, do you?" Ransom didn't even give you anytime to answer before he slipped a finger inside your tight hole. You hated how a soft moan had escaped your mouth when he pushed it in.

"Oh, that's it, Y/N. Those are the noises I want to hear from you." Ransom pumped his finger in and out of your pussy and your cheeks heat up when you heard the sound of your own slick pussy. No, no, it shouldn't feel this good.

Your mind and body were at war. Your brain was screaming at you to push him away and scream for help but your body writhing against his hand as if you were begging him for more even if that wasn't the case.

Ransom looked at his glistening hand that was soaked with your juices and it only made his cock throb against the towel that was wrapped around his waist. Pulling his fingers away, you thought it was over until he ripped your panties off of you along with your blouse leaving you in nothing but your white laced bra.

You watched as Ransom licked his lips hungrily at you and it seemed as if the bra that was covering your breasts bothered him. So much so that he roughly pulled the straps down and reached behind you to unhook them with ease letting your tits be exposed to him.

You lifted your arms up to cover your chest while you pressed your thighs together but Ransom growled disapprovingly. He forced your legs open again and pinned your arms above your head with his hand as he stared down at you with his lust clouded eyes.

"Are you going to fucking behave or do you want to do this the hard way?" He spat and you felt so small as a quiet sob emitted from your lips while you stayed still.

"Good girl." Ransom whispered as he pressed a kiss onto your lips before pulling away.

"I think it's time I have a taste of you, baby. I hope you're as sweet as you look." Ransom spread your legs open and positioned his face in between your thighs. The towel that was wrapped around his waist had finally let loose and fell onto the wooden floor, letting his cock spring free.

Ransom gently blew on your pussy causing you to flinch. You lifted your head and shook your head at him.

"P-Please, Ransom... let me go, I won't tell anyone I just- Ransom!" You gasped when you felt his tongue laying flat on your cunt before he glided it across your clit. You propped yourself on your elbows and shook your head vigorously at him but Ransom held your legs in place, keeping them apart with his strong hands.

"Yeah, fucking watch me eat your pussy, baby." Ransom would say before he started to lap up your juices and even going as far as to tease your hole with his tongue by pushing it in and out of you before he paid attention to your throbbing clit.

You should've looked away. Looked somewhere else rather than the man that was in between your legs, tongue shoved up your pussy. But you can't. He looked so erotic while he sucked on your sensitive little bud. Is this how it feels to get eaten out by a man?

"Don't fight it, baby, just give in." Ransom would tell you as his fingers slid up and down your wet folds, getting them all lubed up before he pushed it up inside your pussy.

A whorish moan escaped your lips and you quickly put your hand up against your mouth to at least muffle the noises you weren't supposed to be making.

You hated this so much. You hated it because you were giving in. You hated it because it felt so damn good. You hated it because you found yourself wanting more.

You didn't plan on it but it was as if your body has gone on autopilot when you hips began to grind up against Ransom's mouth and fingers. Your hands finding its way to tangle themselves onto Ransom's hair.

Sinful moans escaped your mouth and Ransom moaned against your pussy as it was music to his ears. You tasted so sweet on his tongue and it only drove him crazier than he already was for you.

His personal little peach.

Ransom picked up the pace and curled his fingers up to hit your g-spot repeatedly while he was to busy sucking and licking on your clit. It was too much, it felt too good. Your eyes rolled at the back of your head as you felt the familiar pleasure boiling up in the pit of your stomach.

You were close.

"Fuck, baby, I can feel you getting close." Ransom moaned against your soaking wet pussy. You were sure his chin was glistening with your juices.

"No, no, no..." You chanted and shook your head as if you remembered that you weren't supposed to like this at all.

"Yes, yes, come on, baby. I know you wanna cum for me. Do it. Fucking do it." Ransom encouraged you and fingerfucked you harder as he pulled away, his thumb now rubbing circles on your clit in a fast pace.

He wanted to see you come undone for him.

"Do it, Peaches, do it. Be a good girl and cum for me." He ordered you and you were far too gone to tell yourself no.

"R-Ransom!" You turned your head to the side and bit down on the pillow that was right next to you to muffle your screams. You body convulsed underneath Ransom's as you came hard on his fingers. Your legs shook as avalanche of tears streamed down your face due to shame and the pleasure you felt.

Ransom was speechless. It was as if you were being possessed by a demon. You were shaking underneath him, moaning his name as if it was a prayer you had memorized. No one had came this hard for him. No one had been so wet for him before. It was you. It was all you.

He pulled his fingers away and as much as he wanted to lick it clean, he wanted to see how you'd look while you were sucking on something.

You fluttered your eyes open and looked up at Ransom when you felt his weight on your body. He held his soaking fingers against your lips with one demand for you.

"Suck." And even you didn't want to, you found yourself doing what you were told. You wrapped your lips around his fingers and sucked your juices clean off his fingers.

You knew you should've looked away. You knew you should've pulled away but instead, you looked deep into his eyes and swirled your tongue around his fingers, giving him a sneak peek on what you'd look like if you were to suck his cock.

Ransom was taken by surprise. You're naturally a tease. But as much as he wanted to let you suck on his cock, he knew he didn't have the patience for that yet. Instead, he positioned himself on the bed and threw your leg over his shoulder. Your eyes widened as you shook your head began to move away from him but Ransom only pulled back to where you were by your ankles.

"Don't misbehave now, Y/N, you were doing so good." His voice was dark, indicating how he disliked that you pulled away.

"Ransom, you don't understand, I'm inexperienced. Very different from the girls you've fucked, I... Please, let me go, you already made me cum." You pleaded but you could tell on Ransom's face that he wasn't having it.

"Please, Ransom... I'm a virgin, I-"

"You're a what?" Ransom asked, completely cutting you off.

"I'm a virgin." You repeated yourself, confident that Ransom would change his mind about all this once he finds out that you had no experience with sex.

But your confidence went as quickly as it came.

Ransom's face lit up as he leaned down to capture your lips in his, kissing you passionately. You wanted to pull away but he held your face in place as if he sensed you'd be doing exactly that.

Pulling away, Ransom smirked at you.

"How much more innocent can you be?" And with that, he threw your leg over his shoulder and began to line his cock up against your entrance after he slid it up and down to use your juices as lube.

"Ransom, no, it's not gonna fit- Ahh!" You shrieked and closed your eyes shut as the stinging pain shot throughout your body. You whimpered as Ransom cooed at you while he gently pushed his thick length inside your virgin hole.

He was stretching you out so much it felt endless. You let out a helpless sob when he finally bottomed out, his cock now fully deep inside of you. Ransom cupped your face and peppered kisses on your cheek and lips as if that would help diminish the pain you're in.

"You're so tight, Peaches, you fucking know that?" He groaned and stayed still as if any movement would cause him to spill his cum inside you.

"Ransom, please, I don't want this..." You pleaded yet again but Ransom's eyes darkened as he smirked down at you.

"You will." And with that, he began to thrust back and forth into you, his cock pumping in and out of your tight cunt. You gasped and expected there would be pain but there was none. Pleasure started to overtake your body once again and you realized you had finally adjusted to Ransom's length.

You shook your head, praying to whatever deity there was that existed to make this all stop. It shouldn't feel good, it shouldn't. But your body told you otherwise.

Ransom groaned and looked down to watch his cock go in and out of your cunt. The sight was mouthwatering. He remembered how he just dreamt about this but now it was real. And it was better than he imagined.

"Fuck, Y/N, you're gripping me like a vice. Ruining other bitches for me." He moaned and threw his head back, his mouth parted open as his brows furrowed.

Your breathing became uneven and you found yourself meeting Ransom's thrusts causing him to push deeper inside of you, making him hit your g-spot repeatedly. Sinful moans escaped your lips and you could no longer control what your body desperately needed.

By the look of how desperate you were to chase your own orgasm, Ransom was certain he has you now. He was certain that he had you wrapped around his finger. He was certain that you're all his.

"R-Ransom..."

"I know, baby, I know. Just a little longer, Peaches." He fastened his pace and licked his thumb before he rubbed your throbbing clit while he pounded your cunt. The action made you arch your back and your moans to get louder and you quickly put your hand over your mouth, not wanting to wake anyone up.

Either you didn't want to get caught and make Ransom stop or you just didn't want to face the consequences that he gave you if you got too noisy and alarmed everyone in the house.

"R-Ransom, I'm close, I'm-"

"Me too, baby, fuck! Oh God, I'm gonna fill your pussy up." He groaned and with one final thrust, he shoved his cock so deep up your pussy that you couldn't help but spasm around him once again, biting his shoulder as you screamed out in pleasure as you came hard.

"Holy shit, Y/N..." Ransom moaned as he felt you milking his cock up completely. You felt him shoot load after load of his cum while you shook underneath him.

When Ransom slowly pulled away, you couldn't help but cry silently as a sob escaped your lips. He used you. He used you for his own pleasure and you let him. You let him. And there was nothing you could do.

Ransom looked at you with pity. He knew you were still confused. Soon enough, you were going to thank him for the things he's done to and for you. He gently placed your body on the other side of the bed before he lied down and placed the duvet over your bodies.

"You did so good, Y/N. I'm proud of you. See? I told you it'd be easy if you just gave in." He smiled fondly at you and gently wiped the tear that slipped down from your eyes.

"You had me. You used me like a piece of fucking meat. Now will you let me go?" Your question made Ransom laugh out loud. It was rare for women to make him and somehow, you did it. You were truly full of surprises.

"Let you go? Oh no, Peaches, I think you're mistaken." His smile turned into a menacing one as fear began to spark up inside your body once again as he traced your bare shoulders with your fingers.

"I've waited for this moment for a long time. This is the longest chase I've done. And now that I have you, I don't think I'll ever let you go. Plus, you're quite the fighter. You were quite the challenge and I like that. From here on out, you're mine, do you understand?" Ransom gently pulled the blanket off your body as the cool breeze of air hit your skin. His fingers traced your erect nipples before his hand squeezed your breasts a bit.

"You." He pulled the blanket off of him.

"Are." Ransom spread your legs again and placed himself in between them.

"Mine." He whispered against your neck before he pushed his hardening cock back inside you again.

A monster.

That's what Ransom Drysdale was.

#ransom thrombey #ransom drysdale #ransom x reader #ransom x you #ransom drysdale fic #knives out #chris evans #chris evans x you #chris evans x reader

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jungcity · 5 years ago

Text

𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞, 𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐚𝐥. | iii

word count: 7k

“my soul

chose yours

and a soul

doesn't just

forget that”

— b.m.

“This is absurd!”

There was only one thing you wanted to do tonight; curl in your bed and watch korea dramas until your eyes sore from the radiation. But as you roll the wires of the hair-straightener free, all you could do was sniff the tears that was threatening to spill from your eyes.

Yuqi laughed loudly behind you, helping you unroll the knotted wires of the straightener. “Are you seriously gonna cry right now?” She cackled from seeing your frown that could almost reach your chin.

“I don’t know what’s got to my mind. I am seriously the stupidest person to ever exist in the world!” You screamed.

Yuqi’s laughed went louder while patting your back. “No one told you to grab your boss and introduced him as your boyfriend in front of your ex-boyfriend, sis,” Yuqi said, giving emphasis to the word ‘boyfriend’ before continuing, “… so yes, deal with the consequences.”

While praying for the ground to swallow you whole before you hear the honk of Jaehyun’s car in front of your house, you reminisced the insanity of yesterday.

It was a great sunny day. The weather wasn’t too hot, nor it was too cold. Wildflowers are blooming in the grass, with the wind carrying their petals into the air. You smiled, picking one and continuing your walk towards the bus stop with a flower in your hand.

It had been a month since Yuqi was discharged from the hospital. Her recovery had been incredibly fast. Unfortunately, she needed to drop her entry to the archery team— but the coach told her she could always try-out whenever she regained her full-strength. However, the topic is still on debate inside your home, since you didn’t want to see your sister looking as pale as a ghost on a hospital bed again.

Of course, you did not have any choice— again— but to stay in Jung’s Fiscals. Out of compassion or you-don’t-know-what, Jaehyun did not give you too much headache when it came to filing a loan. You were able to pay for all the hospital bills and other expenses such as medicines because of that.

You realized that this life won’t give you any chances to choose the way you wanted to live it. It had felt as if life itself decides for what was going to happen to you. You shook your head and ran from the negative thoughts. The day is bright and the sun is smiling softly at you, you have no reason to be pessimistic. Especially now that Yuqi is all well and far from danger.

There was only one thing that was persistently nagging on your system. Looking at the view outside while the wheels of the bus rolls down the highway, you think about your dreams. Nothing mysterious has happened after you dreamt about the lake— where you heard Jaehyun’s voice calling for someone named Aurora. You have no inkling about who she might be, or what she is to Jaehyun’s life. But there is a high chance that she is nothing but a part of your imagination. At first, you wanted to ask Jaehyun about the name, but his face welcomed no conversations for things other than business. And it felt absurd to ask him about your dream. He obviously has no responsibility to indulge himself to the visions that you see every time you drift asleep. Besides, you couldn’t risk him calling you delusional nor weird.

However, it’s been a month since you last had a peculiar dream. After the lake, all you dreamt about were shallow visions which you easily forgot the next day. It made everything more sinister, for you still remember every detail of the dream you had about Jaehyun. Before you lose your mind from too much thinking, the bus halted in front of Jung’s Fiscals. You gathered your things and departed the vehicle.

Surprisingly, the inside of the lounge gave off a warm atmosphere, so unusual from its grim and quiet surroundings the whole two months you have been working there. You supposed it was your mood that was taking in the bright sides; of the smiles and greetings you were too occupied to notice because you have always struggled every day to please your boss.

Soojin was on her usual place in the front desk, giving you a wave before continuing on her work.

Jung Jaehyun arrived thirty-minutes after you. As usual, he didn’t spare you a glance when you greeted him. It was not like you were expecting him to. Slowly, in the past eight weeks of working for him, you have already got a hold of his frowning, shouting, and disappointed looks. It almost felt like he doesn’t get into your nerves anymore. But sometimes, he still does. Especially right now.

“Where the fuck did you get this coffee?” He scanned the mug in his hand. You narrowed your brows at him. Surely, there wasn’t anything wrong about its taste. You have tasted the coffee for five times, resulting to five spoons waiting for you in the sink. The same taste still lingering in your mouth.

“Sir?”

“Nevermind. Book me a flight to London, send flowers to Johnny Seo— the dick’s giving me too much shit for not going to his gallery’s opening yesterday,” he said the last sentence to himself, clearly frustrated of his friend bumming him out. You quickly typed the important words into your mobile phone, careful not to misspell nor mistyped anything.

Johnny Seo owned a gallery fifteen-minutes away from Jung’s Fiscals. You knew about it when Mr. Seo visited Jaehyun to force him to go. He is a man of a great posture; tall height with lean muscles. Based from your first impression, he is the friendly-type of guy. He even invited you himself when you brought them drinks.

“And—” he paused. You looked at him, anticipating for his next command. Two minutes, of him looking at nowhere and two minutes of you waiting for his mouth to say something. He was completely speechless in his seat, his mouth a thin line and his eyes emotionless.

“Sir?” You decided to break the silence. Albeit not looking at you, his mouth said the order.

“And… make sure the painting from France will be delivered straight in my house tomorrow.”

You jotted the details of the parcel, and mentally reminded yourself to contact the delivery company for Jaehyun’s orders. When you returned to your table, you transferred the notes into the tab that was provided for you. You were halfway into the notes when you received a text from Soojin.

Yuta’s visiting TODAY! Make sure to look your best, bih! 😉

You emitted a silent gasp. Yuta’s arrival wasn’t on your to-do-list for today, and you have no plans to meet him. Soojin hadn’t given you any hint about his arrival, obviously planning to surprise you with the presence of your ex-boyfriend. And she succeeded. Darn it.

You frustratedly typed in the address of Jaehyun’s house into the mail that you created. Shutting your eyes and taking a deep breath, you think about all the possibilities of what could happen later. Soojin’s surely going to give you hell if you stand her up. And you won’t give Yuta the satisfaction of thinking that you still haven’t moved on from your feelings for him. You weren’t trying to be ‘bitter’, you just have no tolerance for cheaters. But for the sake of the friendship that is entwining the three of you, you will go.

Lunch time approached in a dashing speed. For the first time in your whole life, you dreaded the time of eating. There was a pit resting in your stomach by thinking about Yuta. Sure, there is a small part of you that wonders about his whereabouts now, but that curiosity isn’t enough to relive the friendship you once had.

The elevator door tinged, and a smiling Soojin came out. You grunted— there was no running from it now.

“What’s that face, Y/N?” she cooed before sitting on the chair in front of your table. You rolled your eyes at her, showing that you have no time for her teasing.

“C’mon! It’s been years, babe. Don’t tell me you still haven’t moved on?” Soojin raised her perfect brows at you. You threw a crumpled paper her way, earning a loud laugh from her. But it quickly receded as she realized that she was in the same floor as Jung Jaehyun.

“Of course I have moved on! But this meet up, it doesn’t sit well with me. And I don’t understand why are you so eager to see him, not like you didn’t slap him across the cheek when I told you he’s cheating on me,” you reminded her. She, indeed, slapped Yuta before that you feared his teeth would fall off from his gums.

“Like I said, it’s been years. Aren’t you excited to see our old friend?”

No. Yes. Maybe.

“Whatever, Soo. Where is he now?”

At your question, Soojin’s phone buzzed on the table. She mouthed ‘Yuta’ before sliding the green button. “Oh! Nakamoto! Yes, yes. Oooooh! I see that you’re a rich man now! Okay, I’m with Y/N now.” You winced at your name being said to Yuta. “Yes! Okay, okay. Got it!” Then she finished the call with a playful grin plastered on her face.

“He’s already here. And he’s gonna treat us to the nearest restaurant, c’mon!” Soojin dragged you to the elevator, chanting stories after stories as you both walked into the lounge and into the restaurant five-minutes away from Jung’s Fiscals.

Your heart was hammering against your chest as Soojin led you inside. As you passed the door, Soojin sharply turned on you— suddenly fixing your hair like you’re her doll.

“Alright! Let him regret letting you go.” She grinned. You were about to tell her that it’s you who practically let go of Yuta because of his cheating ass when a tall man stood in front of you.

“Yuta Nakamoto!” Soojin squealed, boxing him into a tight hug.

Yuta laughed in her shoulders but his eyes were directly looking at you. You tried to be polite and stretched your lips into a thin smile.

He looks more matured now. He does not look like the playful Yuta with studs almost covering the skin of his ear anymore, but a man who knows what he wants in life. His hair— tied in a neat man bun— is still the white that you remember. Maybe he continued to dye it that way, you will never know. When they pulled away from each other, Yuta spread his arms at you. You reluctantly spread yours and gave him a hug too.

The three of you settled in a four-seater table in the corner of the restaurant near the entrance. Yuta tried to sit beside you but Soojin pulled him beside her and into the seats in front, leaving you sitting alone opposite from them.

“Oh, I need to go to the bathroom,” Soojin said. You widened your eyes at her and she repeated the same expression while gathering her purse. You mouthed the words I’ll kill you before she disappeared from your sight.

You tried your best to ignore Yuta’s furtive glances by skimming the menu. But it was clear by the atmosphere that his tongue was going to say something soon. And he did.

“You looked good, Y/N.” He smiled at you. You chuckled at him, trying your best to sound natural. Once, those smiles were enough to let the butterflies in your stomach stir.

“Yeah, you too.”

He licked his lips, placing the menu on the table and suddenly grabbing your hands. You were too shocked to withdraw, so you let him hold it while looking straight at your eyes.

“Y/N, I know… I know I fucked up. I’m not gonna deny that. But I just wanna say sorry, for the pain that I’d caused you. And I…” He breathed before continuing, “… I came back for you. I… fuck— I still love you.”

You blinked at him, mouth going dry because of his apologies and revelations. Yuta’s eyes were glimmering with something that you could only identify as hope. But his statement didn’t even reach your heart.

It’s not even ten-minutes of you reuniting together. Heck, your butt doesn’t even feel warm in your seat yet. But here he was, ruining everything. However, even after his fucked up declaration, you still tried to gather yourself and remain composed in front of him.

“Don’t fool around Yu—”

He interrupted you by tightening his hold of your hand. “Just give me a chance. I’m a change man now, Y/N.”

Where on earth is Soojin?

“Yuta that is not the problem—”

“Please, Y/N?”

You sighed. This is what you have been telling Soojin all along the way, but she didn’t listen.

“Yuta, I don’t know about that.” You tried to meet his gaze, just so he could see that you were on your edge.

“Why? Soojin told me you’re single. Do you have anyone in your life right now?” He pleaded. You are so going to kill Soojin. You inhaled deep breaths, shutting your eyes. When you opened them, someone caught your attention.

He entered the restaurant like it was his own; with his expensive suit shouting the authority in his every step. His hands on both of his pockets— his eyes coldly scanning the crowd. A faint scowl deepened on his lips as his line of sight slid on to you, sitting and staring at him.

I’m not doing it. You told your brain, but your body seemed to disagree. For you sauntered up to Jung Jaehyun and linked your arms with his. His eyebrows creased, but you smiled widely at him, forcing him to walk to your table.

Stop, Y/N. You still have the chance to save your job and put an end to this nonsense. If your brain could scream, it probably would. But your lips seemed to have a life on its own when it said, “Yuta, this is my boyfriend Jung Jaehyun.” You turned your head from Yuta to your boss. “This is Yuta, my old friend.”

Your smile could reach your ears now, silently praying that your boss would go along this madness. Jaehyun smiled back at you— but you were sane enough to sense the danger between those pearlescent white teeth.

“Let’s sit.” You offered. He was now sitting face to face with Yuta. If your ex-boyfriend was devastated by your announcement, he showed no sign of it for he stretched his arms towards Jaehyun.

“Yuta Nakamoto,” he introduced himself, smiling. Jaehyun stared at his hand for almost a minute. Sweats started to form in your forehead but you let out a sigh when he finally took Yuta’s hand and shook it lightly.

“Jung Jaehyun,” he said. His face had an amused expression as he stared at Yuta, who is now scanning the menu.

“Damn it! I think my stomach’s—” Soojin stopped dead on her tracks, her eyes widening at the sight of her boss sitting beside you. You smiled at her, far too wide to be called natural. But she only widened her eyes.

“Oh, you’re back,” Yuta chimed. He stood up to let Soojin sit on her chair.

“We have Y/N’s boyfriend joining us,” Yuta declared. Soojin almost lost her balance.

“B-boyfriend?” She frantically exchange glances between you and Jaehyun. You swear you were going to collapse soon. But Soojin’s surprised reaction slowly receded to that of an understanding one.

“Oh yes! Ha-ha! Jung Jaehyun, right?! Long time no see!” Soojin even reached for Jaehyun’s shoulder and tapped it lightly. What the fuck? You almost wanted to scream at her, grabbing her hands away from Jaehyun. He looked at his shoulder, to the spot where Soojin touched him and you swear both of you would be dead meat later.

Your orders came— stopping Jaehyun from his quest to burn Soojin with his eyes— and the four of you shared a deafening silence with only the clanking utensils providing the sound.

“So, what do you do these days Jung Jaehyun?” Yuta decided to ask.

You glanced at Soojin, who choke on her food. She looked at you with after-this-we-are-fucking-dead eyes.

Jaehyun was silent for a moment, and you thought he was never going to answer when he wiped his mouth with a dabbing manner and said, “CEO of the building five-minutes away from here.” Then he added, “You?”

Well, that was unexpected.

“That’s cool. I am an actor and a musician in Japan,” Yuta said before biting his food.

You swear you almost heard Jaehyun scoffed, which made your head turn to him so sudden you thought your neck would snap.

“Actor, huh? Suits you.”

They refused to look at each other as they talk. You felt the tension rising up by Jaehyun’s last statement, for Yuta stopped on his chewing. Soojin kicked your shin below the table. She, too, felt the atmosphere as it thickens.

You cleared your throat before Yuta could retaliate. “The salad is good! Try it guys!”

Soojin seconded your motion. The two men snapped their heads to each of your direction.

“Try it, Jae.” The nickname tasted bitter in your mouth. You have witnessed as the same bitterness transferred to your boss’ expression.

“Thanks, chérie.”

There. That pet name again. You tried so hard not to let them notice the tremble of your hand as you leaned a little closer to Jaehyun to put salad on his own plate.

“Are you free this night?” Yuta suddenly voiced, glancing in each of you surrounding him. “Let’s go clubbing tonight. The drink’s on me.” He winked at Soojin, who excitedly shifted on her seat.

You gave Jaehyun a sideway glance, but you couldn’t make up his expression for he was drinking a glass of water. You nudged Soojin below the table. She only widened her eyes at you.

If there was one thing the both of you haven’t done together in a while, it is clubbing. You were absolutely sure that she was not going to bail on Yuta in this adventure.

“That sounds exciting!” Soojin cheered, clapping her hands together.

Yuta looked at you. “How about you, Y/N?”

“I don’t think—”

“We’re going,” Jaehyun declared.

And that is why you are wearing something out of your comfort zone tonight, with your sister straightening your hair.

“Tell me what happened after lunch,” Yuqi teased. You rolled your eyes but told her the story nevertheless.

Soojin couldn’t stop bowing in front of Jaehyun when the three of you returned to the building you thought she was going to cry. Jaehyun only waved her off without saying anything. Then she dashed to the front desk, throwing an apologetic look your way.

The ride inside the elevator was harrowing. Jaehyun’s arms were crossed against his chest, with you fidgeting beside him.

“I’m sorry,” you quietly voiced.

Avoiding both your reflections on the silvery façade of the elevator, you decided to look down at your shoes instead. He didn’t say anything, but you seriously need to make sure that he was not going to fire you.

“You don’t need to go tonight. I know you’re a busy person. And I’m really, really sorry for dragging you into this—”

“You talk too much.” He shifted to face you. Suddenly, you felt the atmosphere warming up inside the elevator.

A finger touched your chin. Then you felt your face as it slowly lifted to meet Jaehyun. You could swim into the depths of his eyes but you were afraid to drown. How could someone be as beautiful as him? You couldn’t believe someone’s face could be as flawless as his; with his perfect brows, to his nose, and to his lips. His skin bore no scar— only perfection.

“See you later,” he breathed. Only then you realized that your faces were utterly so close your lips could almost touch.

“You can stop drooling now,” he said, walking away from you. Your hand flew in your mouth, checking if you were indeed drooling. Shutting your eyes of frustration as you didn’t feel any liquid beside your lips.

But of course, you hide that information from Yuqi.

“Wow! You looked pretty!” She cheered while looking at your reflection in the mirror. Your frown never ceased. It only deepened when you heard the loud honk of a car outside.

“Oh! The CEO is here!” Yuqi singsonged, tickling your sides. You slapped her hands away before walking outside to meet Jaehyun.

Your breath caught in your throat as you see him leaning on his car wearing a casual outfit; white shirt paired with black pants. To be honest, you’d thought he was going to the club with his usual suit and black shoes. He looked much younger in his clothes now, fresher even. The tight atmosphere surrounding him seems to vanish.

You pinched your skin, diving back into reality.

“Yuqi, please take care. Call me if you need anything!” you told your sister, a silent warning exuding from your mouth. She nodded like a puppy while hugging the door frame, trying to get a glimpse of Jaehyun amidst the thick bushes of plants covering the gates.

“I’ll go now.” You shook your head. Yuqi waved you off with a flying kiss.

Jaehyun took a last sip of his blunt before tossing it into the nearest trashcan and walking around his car, not even bothering to open the door for you. You rolled your eyes and pulled the car door open for yourself.

Cigarettes After Sex is blasting through the speakers as you slump into the bullet seat. You have never imagined Jaehyun listening to music, but you guess you really can’t judge a book by its cover. And you enjoy a good music once you heard one, so the ride to the bar weren’t as horrible as you’d expected it would be.

No words were spoken the whole ride, not even when you entered the establishment. Booming electro-pop sounds filled the whole place, making your heart jump together with the speakers. You adjusted your eyes against the LED lights, trying to search the crowd for Soojin and Yuta. Jaehyun is on his way to the counter, leaving you to search alone.

A girl waved at you from the mezzanine floor of the bar. You squinted your eyes to see her face. It was Soojin. You waved back and motioned your hands to where Jaehyun was sitting, taking a shot of tequila.

“Sir—uhm— Jae, found them.”

You bit your tongue of the informality that rolled from it. That is one of the things you were not sure of tonight— formalities. And you have no idea how Jaehyun would have reacted to you calling him by his name, maybe he would really terminate you after this night. He threw you a sideway glance, one brow rising with a shot glass kissing his mouth. You quickly turned your back on him and started walking to where Soojin was.

Oh, what dread greeted you once you have reached their location. Both Yuta and Soojin were sitting on the red sofa— and because they preferred the furthermost seats, all that was left was a one-seater plush sofa. You felt Jaehyun’s presence behind you. He, himself, halted on his tracks as he noticed the only remaining seat. Both of your friends scanned the surroundings, with Soojin ploddingly covering her mouth— slowly realizing the predicament you were into.

Despite the nervousness already coating your body, you tried your best to stay calm. But Jaehyun doesn’t seem to share the same calming technique as you, for he walked to the one-seater, sat on it, looked at you, then tapped his lap.

“Here, babe.”

Babe? What on earth? You widened your eyes at him, hoping that he could see the warning against the pulsing lights around you. His lips turned into a coy smile, showing you that he was enjoying himself right now. Of course, Jaehyun would take every chance to settle your hash. You should have known better.

“There’s no more seat left but here on my lap,” he added.

You saw in your peripheral how Soojin choked on her own saliva. You swear you’d kill Jaehyun once this is all over. You really would, and probably he would do the same to you. Tightening your hands on your purse, you whispered a silent prayer to the saints who might be watching and listening to you now, then trudged the distance between you and Jaehyun with a heavy heart.

“You can sit here, Y/N. I’ll fetch my own,” Yuta interrupted before you could sit on Jaehyun’s lap. He was smiling while tapping his seat between Jaehyun and Soojin. You glanced at Jaehyun. He had that impish look on him as he stared at Yuta; like he was a toy he wanted to play.

“Y/N, what are you still doing standing there?” Soojin waved her hands, encouraging you to snap out of your reverie and finally sit beside her.

You sat uncomfortably in the plush sofa, glancing at Jaehyun every now and then. There was boredom in his eyes as he looked at the surroundings— of dancing bodies and couples making out in the corner.

“Is he okay?” Soojin whispered. You looked at her and shrugged. Since you have never seen Jaehyun inside a bar before, you really couldn’t tell whether he was fascinated or stultified by the happenings around him. Either way, you ignored him and started drinking when Yuta came back, with a waiter carrying a seat for him.

Soojin leaned onto you again. “Let’s have some fun and leave the boys to have their manly talk.”

You answered her with a stupefied look. But she already got her arms linked to yours, pulling you up from your seat.

“It’s time for us to have some girls’ night, so I hope you both won’t mind!” Soojin flashed the two men her white and perfect teeth.

Yuta glanced at Jaehyun, and then back to Soojin. “Enjoy yourselves while the night is still young.” He smiled.

Soojin suddenly slapped his arms. “You sound like an old man!”

Then she pulled you down the stairs and into the throng of dancing bodies. Soojin screamed before diving into the crowd, pulling you with her. The both of you started to dance, leaving both Yuta and Jaehyun behind.

—

Jaehyun stared at the crowd, his eyes fixated on you. He regretted going to this awful place the moment he stepped in and heard the blasting music, but maybe his night wouldn’t be a waste if he kept on watching you losing your shit into the music.

He took another shot of the liquor, wincing for it didn’t even make his throat tighten. The boy in front of him making everything worth wincing for.

Yuta took a swig from his own bottle, gulping down almost half of its content before looking at you again. The way that he tried to worship you with only his eyes made something inside Jaehyun ticked. Nothing would happen if he won’t break the ice. Taking another shot from his glass, he decided to worsen the tensed atmosphere coaxing their surroundings.

“You’re not human.”

Yuta gave him a sideway glance. “Yeah?”

“Yeah? I can smell your fae shit from a mile so you better cut the bullshit and reveal yourself to me now.”

Yuta seemed taken aback by his words. And that was when Jaehyun knew he already caught the bird. “Are you on drugs? Listen man, I don’t know what’re you talking about,” Yuta said, looking for you in the crowd.

Jaehyun leaned closer— eyes as cold as a dead corpse as he pinned down Yuta with a stare. “You do know what I’m talking about. And I know what you are. But you, you don’t know what I am.”

Jaehyun does not miss anything. Not even the slightest twitch of Yuta’s jaw by his last sentence. He doesn’t know how this fae in front of him hides his pointed ears and he does not give a fuck. But he couldn’t let Yuta sit there and not know that he was in the presence of The Fallen, and that someone more powerful than him could sense behind his glamour.

Yuta have him a calculating look then, the fae senses of him piercing through Jaehyun’s soul. Yet he couldn’t seem to figure out what creature Jaehyun truly is. He was devoid of anything human and monstrous— not a vampire nor a lycanthrope, certainly not a warlock— that much was for sure. In the depths of Yuta’s sleuthing, he found something immaculate, hateful, and eternal. And those feelings only belonged to someone who is older than the world itself— of a creature once descended into heaven, standing beside the Almighty Himself.

“Lucifer?” Yuta whispered incredulously.

Jaehyun continued staring at Yuta until the latter shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “I see that you’re not as dumb as I’ve expected.”

The fae accepted Jaehyun’s taunting— not that he could do anything other than that in the presence of Lucifer. He should have sensed it earlier, when they ate together. But he was so enraptured by meeting you again he did not had any time to sense that something was amiss.

Giggling, both you and Soojin made your way back to Jaehyun and Yuta. Soojin was the first one to sit back on her place beside the latter. While you slowed your steps, drinking in the intense atmosphere between the two men. What happened?

Soojin was laughing merrily as she told Yuta stories about your little adventure in the dance floor. You giggled with her but before you could take another step, Soojin’s feet suddenly blocked the way, making you trip on your toes. A loud gasp escaped your lips before you closed your eyes and waited for the drop to happen. But a pair of strong hands caught your arms— balancing you. Your nose bumped against hard muscles. When you looked up, you saw Jaehyun gazing down at you.

The world suddenly stopped along with your body. You stared at his eyes, heart beating loudly against your chest. His face, mere inches away from you that you could feel his breath fanning your cheeks. Just like in your dreams— when he guided you towards the center of the hall to dance with him.

To hell with the rules, to hell with the barriers separating you and Jaehyun— for the first time in your whole life, you have never wanted to kiss someone as you do right now. It wouldn’t hurt to let those lips touch yours, right? You closed your eyes, slowly tipping your toes to reach those invitingly red lips when a pair of strong arms grabbed you away from Jaehyun.

It happened so fast. You slammed into someone’s chest yet again. You opened your eyes to see Yuta looking at Jaehyun with enough fire to burn the whole building, arms wrapped protectively around your shoulders.

“What the hell, Yuta?!” you screamed and tried to wiggle yourself free. But he only tightened his hands on your shoulders, causing you to wince. Soojin was stoned in her seat, with her fingers wrapped around the glass of vodka. The people around you started to watch the scene unfolding before their eyes with excitement which annoyed you.

“Enough of this game, Y/N.” His tone was serious, and his eyes never left Jaehyun.

Jaehyun worked his jaw. “Let her go.”

Yuta tensed but he didn’t stir. Which you think amused Jaehyun even more.

“I don’t take orders from you,” Yuta spat.

Jaehyun raised his brow, a smirk playing on his lips. His eyes bearing a darkness you have never seen before. A darkness that could summon lightning and storm or break the ground open. It sent chills down your spine. He does not look human at all.

He walked languidly towards Yuta, and only when they stood face to face did Jaehyun let himself talk.

“You dare defy me?”

Every words was slow— like he was tasting the dominance dripping from his mouth. Yuta’s grip on you slackened. Before you knew it, his fist already collided against Jaehyun’s jaw. You gasped along with the people watching on the sidelines. Bouncers ran to where you were located and tried to get a hold of the two men. Jaehyun jerked away from their hold before wiping the blood off the side of his lips.

Soojin was quick to wrapped her arms around you, but Jaehyun grabbed your arms again. The both of you walked towards the exit with you barely catching up on his long strides. He pushed the button on his keys, and his car made a sound.

Jaehyun opened the door for the bullet seat. “Get in,” he commanded.

“No.”

By your answer, he stood there, staring at you. The intensity in his eyes made your heart skip a beat, but you stood your ground. What the hell happened inside the bar? To him and Yuta? And where would he bring you? You have enough questions in your mind not to go with him now.

“Get. In.” He insisted, every word laced with authority.

“Make m—”

“Trust me, chérie. You wouldn’t want to finish that sentence,” he interrupted.

You shut your mouth, blinking. Jaehyun raised his brow, motioning you to get in his car. Sighing, you lazily sat on the bullet seat. Complete silence enveloped you as there was no music playing to carry the uneasiness away. You glanced at Jaehyun every now and then, and every time you do, he was checking on the split on his lips.

Albeit not knowing the true reasons of Yuta’s rage, guilt still rests in the pit of your stomach. You have also known Yuta as a troublemaker when you were still in college. Trouble has its way to cling onto him, and you always find him brawling with another student in the fields of the school every now and then. It is a surprised that he graduated on time despite his records. And now that you think of it, you guess old habits really die hard.

Jaehyun stopped in front of your small apartment. Both of you never said anything as you opened the door and made your way out of his car. But you held on to the door, not letting it close behind you.

You bit your lips, turning to face him, “Let me at least tend to your wound.”

“There’s no need.” Jaehyun tightened his grip on the steering wheel.

“Please.”

You were surprised to see him open the door beside him and depart his car. Maybe you have never expected him to oblige that easily. He followed you inside the apartment and into the living room. At first, he was reluctant to sit on the sofa.

“You can sit, Sir. We clean the house every day.” You rolled your eyes. Rich people are annoying.

Quickly, you knocked onto Yuqi’s door. When she didn’t answer, you gathered the first aid kit at the drawers located in the kitchen, then poured some water to the glass and served it to him.

You sat beside your boss, then you started pouring alcohol to the cotton balls and started dabbing it on his split lips.

His eyes bore into your face, making you uncomfortable. The redolence of tequila mixed with mint wafted your nose as he spoke, “You should be careful around that boy.”

“You can’t give me orders outside work, Sir.” You exerted a bit force in dabbing the cotton ball, but he didn’t even wince.

“I absolutely could, chérie.”

You snapped, “Stop calling me ‘chérie’.”

“Why? Because it makes you nervous?” He held your wrist, pinning you with his gaze. He was right. It does makes you nervous, but you would never let him see that.

“Ha! Of course not!” You scoffed.

You tried to free yourself from his grasp, but he only tightened his grip. It feels like déjà vu. But unlike the other time, there was no buzzing of phones and dreadful news to stop what was bound to happen.

Before you could even blink, Jaehyun’s lips crashed into yours. Shocking waves of electricity traveled your body. Tickles ran down your head to your toes. His lips moved, and you melted with the feeling that you moved your lips too. It felt like a spark, a slight push to drive Jaehyun mad— for he deepened the kiss, hunger and intensity mixing with it. The cotton ball fell into the ground, along with all your senses. Every ravenous kiss you answered with the same fierceness. You bit each other’s lips, tongues colliding inside your mouths—

Jaehyun immediately pulled away, with a curse escaping his mouth. You blinked at him. The kiss you shared leaving a blackhole into your system.

“Fuck.” He stood up, pacing back and forth. Then he picked up his keys and walked away.

The wheels of his car screeched against the asphalt road. You let him go, because what else could you possibly do?

—

The sound of heels colliding with the floor filled the whole of Jaehyun’s penthouse. He never needed to turn to see who had arrived.

“My prince.” The woman said mockingly.

Jaehyun scoffed, “Chaelin.”

The woman poured liquor to the spare glass lying on the table, then she joined Jaehyun in watching the cars and streetlights below the silence of the city.

“The newborns has been taken care of,” she started.

“Good.”

“Good? You didn’t even bother to visit, knowing that Taeyong is out of the country doing God-knows-what.”

Jaehyun chuckled and gave Chaelin a glance. “What did he say?”

The woman lifted her middle finger. “This.”

He ignored the vulgar gesture and walked straight to where the liquor was located, turning his back again to the woman. “Taeyong isn’t a vampire Primus for nothing. And those newborns are the result of their wanting to spread out their dying legacy,” Jaehyun stated.

“And they are doing an absolute great job on it,” Chaelin added.

Taeyong has been recruiting humans to join his clan of vampires for hundreds of years now. His newborns are usually those who became too tired to be normal. And no, he does not force and bend their necks to sip their blood. Taeyong has a peculiar sense of doing everything in order, so he made a document to be signed by the humans who wanted to be vampire before they go through the process. It’s not a secret that newborn vampires are the wildest breed of netherworlders, so Taeyong made bars that would keep them until it’s safe enough to let them roam around.

His vampires does not harm humans. No one would dare. For he vowed to chop their heads off himself if they dare lay a hand on a person. So they mostly feed from animals. But a dent was made by his newborns when Taeyong flew out of the country to attend whatever bullshit that needed his presence. His newborns almost killed a man, sending Chaelin to fix the mess until their Primus arrived to kill them.

That was the same argument Chaelin and Jaehyun talked about two months ago, the one he suspected you heard.

“By the way, did you give the ointment to the girl?” Chaelin asked, crossing her legs into the futon.

“Doyoung gave me too much shit when I asked him for that. He even forced me to pay five aurum for it. Five. Aurum.” Chaelin emphasized.

Aurum is the money netherworlders used as their currency— the Latin term for gold. And netherworlders refers to vampires, warlocks, lycanthropes and such.

The aurum has the same color as gold and it’s similar to coins, with a circle embossed on it. One aurum is enough to buy (not rent) a small apartment if used in the human world. It’s not a surprised Chaelin has gone a little bonkers to the payment Doyoung insisted her to pay.

Doyoung is a warlock, residing in the forest. He actually owned a mansion in the middle of the forest, and that is where he often does magic. And Chaelin deserved an applause for traveling there alone.

“You went alone?” Jaehyun asked.

Chaelin checked her long nails. “Of course not. I brought Jeno with me. I know it would please Doyoung to see his favorite pup.”

“But Jeno won’t be pleased if he heard you calling him pup. He could be the next alpha.”

“Jeno isn’t as easily insulted as you, Jaehyun. And you can’t talk about that while Johnny is still alive and leading the pack.” The woman rolled her eyes.

“Whatever, Lilith.”

“It’s Chaelin now.”

“Why? Does it hurt to remember how the Almighty banished you from Eden and literally replaced you with a girl named Eve?”

“Watch it, Lucifer.” Chaelin’s warning earned a chuckle from Jaehyun. “As far as I know, we were both banished.” There was enough venom in her tone that made Jaehyun halt, suddenly remembering the glory he once had.

“And you must know that I don’t bow to the wants of a patriarch,” she added.

“It’s what the Almighty wished you to do, promising to forgive and make a place in heaven for you if you oblige.”

That was true. The Almighty will forgive Chaelin and lift her punishment once she agreed to be loyal and faithful to Adam. But she refused, over and over again. She was lucky, Jaehyun thought, for the Almighty still wanted her in heaven. Unlike him, who He banished beyond redemption.

Chaelin stood up and made her way to the door. She veered the door open before saying, “I don’t want to redeem myself. He could punish me all over again. But I, I won’t falter. For my pride is higher than the heaven, itself.”

Jaehyun shook his head. But he completely understands the woman. He sat on one of the stools in the kitchen counter, breathing in the silence once again.

“Chaelin,” he called out. The woman turned on her heels to hear what he was about to say.

“There’s a fae bastard roaming around. Make sure he’s taken care of.”

He doesn’t need to turn sideways to see the silent nod the woman made. Then the door clicked close.

Chaelin and him— two creatures molded from the same clay. She was casted out of Eden, and him out of heaven. But unlike when Jaehyun was exiled from heaven— all bloodied and bruised— Chaelin had a triumphant smile in her when she walked out of the paradise and into freedom. Chaelin wasn’t even as powerful as Jaehyun, but she was way more happier.

Into the dead of the night, with only the moonlight slipping into the floor-to-ceiling glass of Jaehyun’s penthouse, he thought about you. About the kiss you shared.

It was foolish of him to let the wanting overcome his senses. But the curve and plumpness of your lips made it hard to hang on to his principles. And before he knew what he was doing, he’s already cupping your cheeks, kissing you with a hunger he didn’t know lay quiet inside him. Yes, he’s kissed and bedded women after all those years of loneliness because of Aurora’s death, but he never once felt something as he did when your lips collided with his. He kissed and kissed you, and for the first time, Aurora’s face flashed in his mind. It should bother him, but no matter what he tells himself, kissing you didn’t feel like cheating. Despite all of it, he still wanted to get rid of your taste in his mouth. So he grabbed his phone inside his pocket and dialed a number.

“Get that pretty ass on here, Mina.”

—

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