#promise i will not judge i just assumed the first ask was from yet another person who found my post by searching some keyword | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

chelseeebe · 1 year ago

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promise.

eddie knows about covering bruises and pretending to be fine all too well. but can he save the one woman he thinks he’s ever loved?

a/n: ok i’ve been a bit shit the last few weeks and this is genuinely the only thing i could conjure up but forewarning, it is sad and it does mention some pretty heavy topics that i know aren’t for everyone so i completely understand if u don’t want to read! my adhd riddled brain has already started a part two which does have a happy ending

title based on promise - ben howard i just thought it was a really lovely song and fits well with part two

read part two here.

18+. mdni! mentions of domestic violence, not explicitly described but the injuries are there and it is referred to multiple times throughout (eddie is not the perpetrator). smut. v much hurt/no comfort but not for long.

⋆˙⟡♡⟡⋆˙

eddie is positively wrecked.

who would have ever guessed working in a shoddy, run-down bar would be so fucking tiring?

graham had said that if he picked up a few shifts at the hideout a week, then corroded coffin could play once a month. a guaranteed slot and he got paid? this was like heaven to him.

he just hadn’t expected the little bar to be so exhausting. he supposes that his lack of work experience and the fact he was used to doing sweet fuck all most of the time was to blame. that’s not his fault. not really. after finally graduating high school a year or so ago, he just hadn’t found any work in the tiny town.

on one particularly boring mid-week shift, eddie’s sat behind the bar doodling on the back of an old receipt, tapping his foot along to the kiss tune playing on the stereo. wouldn’t be his first choice but he’s not complaining.

‘you coming for a smoke?’ you exclaim suddenly, causing his head to jolt up, running the biro over his shitty drawing, ruining it completely.

‘uh.. then who would be on the bar?’ he utters, quickly hiding the doodle before you could judge it. not that he thinks you would, but just in case.

‘eddie, it’s dead,’ you say flatly, looking around at the empty tables.

truth be told, he hadn’t seen another soul bar from you and graham since he’d arrived which was odd for a thursday. assuming that the usual bums that lined the dusty old stools were otherwise engaged today. that or they just hadn’t been paid yet.

‘oh.. yeah, okay,’ he nods, hopping down from the stool and grabbing his jacket. you’re already gone, bounding off down the hall to the fire exit you all used for smoke breaks.

eddie’s still fairly new and very rarely got invited on the group breaks. which was fine, he just wished that you’d all take it in turns so that he could smoke too. he gets it though, like he talks enough but yet not enough to really make friends with any of you.

you’re leaning back against the brick wall, cigarette hanging from your lips, ‘you got a lighter?’

it’s not like he’d been staring or thought about it that much, but he’d noticed how breathtakingly beautiful you were on his second shift. okay, maybe that’s a lie. he’d thought about it a lot. but anyway, he’d been utterly in awe at the way you handled the drunks, brushed off their creepy comments and stood your ground no matter how angry or persistent they were being. he admired that and just wished that he had even a smidgen of the confidence you had.

he fumbles in his pocket for the lighter, clumsily handing it over before getting his own pack out. it feels wrong to look you in the eye, god that sounded pathetic. you were older, far cooler than he was and positively stunning. if he remembers correctly, you must’ve been a couple grades above him at school but had left long before he graduated.

‘thanks,’ passing the lighter back to him, fingers ever so slightly brushing against his. it’s like electricity sparks through his veins.

he really needs to get a grip.

‘you enjoyin’ it here?’ you ask, eyes intimidating as they bore into his.

‘it’s okay.. tiring though,’ he shrugs, trying his hardest to maintain eye contact despite his inability to look pretty girls in the eye.

‘yeah.. you’ll get used to it,’ you chuckle, the smoke flowing out of your lips perfectly. he’s so pathetically down bad for you and you have literally no idea.

‘how long have you worked here?’ longing to keep the conversation flowing.

‘shit.. too long,’ chuckling as you take another drag. eddie could listen to that sound all day. ‘i think i was eighteen when i started so..’ pretending to count on your fingers, ‘six years?’

eddie blows the air out of cheeks, he’s probably be in a similar position if he’d have just graduated when he was supposed to so he can’t exactly pass judgement.

‘i think we went to school together, i mean, you were a couple grades above me but i remember you,’ hoping that that didn’t sound as creepy out loud like it did in his head.

‘oh shit, really?’ your eyes narrow, trying to place him though it’s obviously not going to happen, ‘i don’t remember you.. i’m so sorry,’ playfully hitting his arm.

the connection is enough to keep his delusions going for at least another month.

‘it’s fine, didn’t think you would,’ not many people did to be honest. he tosses his cigarette into the overflowing makeshift ashtray, waiting for you to lead the way back inside.

‘hey, it was a long time ago, i’m old now!’ you joke, walking back through the dim hall back to the bar. he tries his hardest not to let his gaze slip to you ass but he swears it’s only for a second.

the bar’s still dead, the stereo now blaring out some madonna tune he hated.

‘ugh.. turn this one off,’ he mutters, mostly to himself as he repositions himself back on his perch.

‘what?’

‘i hate this song.’

your jaw drops in faux-offence, ‘i made this mixtape you asshole,’ going to shove him off of the stool, ‘i can’t believe you can’t drop the cool guy act for one second to appreciate some madonna,’ laughing as you start collecting glasses.

his frown turns into an immediate grin, begging for your forgiveness as he starts to bop his head along to the beat. it’s not like anyone would see him and hell, even if they did, he didn’t care. not if it made you smile.

‘holy fuck, you been fightin’ with the door again?’ james remarks, pulling eddie’s eyes from his paper to spot you rushing into the bar.

your head is ducked, flashing the older man your middle finger, disappearing into the back before eddie can properly get a glimpse of your face.

but he knows.

there’d been a handful of times that you’d come in wearing a massive sweater instead of your usual low-cut tops and when you reached for something high up, the sleeve would reveal just enough for him to see the dark blue marks on your wrist.

he’d never been sure, not until now. but his stomach drops the second his brain puts two and two together.

ditching the paper and that asshole james behind the bar to slink off into the back, approaching the tiny staff room with the upmost caution. it’d never be wise to start throwing accusations around but he’s not stupid. eddie had watching his mom go through the exact same shit for years. knew all the tricks in the book to cover up bruises, cried his heart out every time his mom went back to his asshole dad.

only god knows how many times he’d planned out his fathers death. anger brimming in his tiny body the second he heard raised voices.

he knocks gently on the door, watching as you hurriedly wipe the makeup onto your eye. it’s not doing much, in fact, it’s not doing anything at all. the purple shining through undeniably.

‘you okay?’ practically whispering as he enters the room, knocking the door shut behind him. james’ comment had meant that this obviously wasn’t the first time you’d come into work with such horrid markings.

you sigh, giving up on attempting to cover it, slamming the metallic compact back into your locker. ‘i’m okay.. i’m fine,’ refusing to turn and face him.

you’re obviously not okay and it hurts eddie to know that there’s absolutely nothing he can do to help. instead, he takes a seat on the communal bench, if nothing else, he’d lend his ear for whatever story you wanted to tell him.

‘what happened?’ he dares to ask, not expecting to know the truth but it felt better than silence.

you sniff, closing your locker and finally facing him head on. there’s pain and guilt wracked all over your face, ‘i’m just.. clumsy,’ shoulders slumping, ‘i tripped..’

‘clumsy?’

you were anything but. eddie had watched you balance trays full of glasses without spilling a single drop. maybe other people bought your story but he didn’t. he couldn’t.

there’s a short silence and eddie shuffles, patting the empty space beside him, ‘you don’t have to lie to me.’ he swallows his anger, lets it rest in his stomach for a later date. there’s no doubt that if he got the opportunity, he’d kill the asshole that did this to you.

you swallow, reluctantly perching on the bench, ‘why are you even asking when you already know?’ not quite meeting his eyes, staring off somewhere into the distance.

‘i don’t know.. didn’t wanna pressure you..’ he’s familiar with the whole routine. the denial from his mother had broken his heart at such a young age even though he wasn’t stupid.

you blink, meeting his eyes for the first time, ‘he didn’t mean to.. was my fault,’ wiping the back of your hand against your sodden cheeks.

even hearing the words makes him inexplicably frustrated. not with you of course, but with the fact that you can’t see how much you don’t deserve that.

‘i don’t think you could do anything to deserve that,’ motioning towards your blackened eye. he’s not going to push it but he needs you to know that he’s here and would quite happily wrap his hands around that bastards neck.

‘you know.. my dad used to hit my mom,’ swallowing the large lump that had gathered in his throat, but finds enough strength to continue, ‘she was the nicest lady in the world.. she didn’t deserve that and neither do you,’ licking his suddenly parched lips. it wasn’t an easy topic then and it certainly isn’t now.

he’s not particularly ever open about what happened to his mom but if it convinced you even a tiny bit to leave him, it’d be worth it.

there’s a beat, followed by a muffled sniff but you’re nodding, staring down at the grimy tiles rather than his face. eddie reckons that he’d be overstepping his mark if he did what he wanted and leant over to hug you. so he doesn’t. putting a sympathetic hand on your shoulder instead.

‘you’re an angel, you know that?’ the hints of a smile creeping onto your lips.

‘yeah i know,’ he scoffs, bashing his shoulder into yours, only gently.

‘shut up,’ knocking him straight back.

you get up from the bench, puffing your cheeks out as you take one last look into the mirror.

it’s a gut-wrenching, awful sight and god forbid eddie has to ever see you like that again.

perhaps rather naively, eddie assumes everything is fine for the next few weeks.

understandably, you’re a bit subdued for a few days but you do revert back to your usual bubbly self come friday evening. no more bruises, no more groaning when you change the keg and absolutely zero mention of your wretched boyfriend.

so when he pulls into his gravel driveway one gloomy saturday night, he’s aghast to see you perched on his trailer steps. blinking through his headlights, soaked through from the rain with a busted lip and a torn shirt to match.

he near enough launches himself from his van, rushing over to your hunched over frame. damn near falling over his feet to get to you.

‘what the hell happened?’

you stand, clinging onto your poorly packed rucksack, ‘i.. i didn’t know where else to go,’ utterly defeated, any traces of life drained from your face.

he doesn’t say another word, bundling you into the trailer, slamming the lights on to get a proper look of you. his hands firmly on your drenched shoulders as he examines your injuries. your lip is cracked, the blood had wept from the cut and dried on your chin.

it’s awful. knocks him sick just to see you like this. your cheeks are stained with a mixture of rain and he presumes tears, hair hanging limp around your beautiful face.

‘what happened?’ he says softly, studying your face. he notices the small gash on your forehead, using everything within himself not to storm out of that door in a murderous rage.

your mouth opens but no words come out. it’s not as if he can’t put two and two together, he just doesn’t understand how it got to this point after last week.

‘it’s okay.. c’mon let’s get you out of these clothes,’ he blinks, collecting himself before taking your sopping wet bag. the clothes had all suffered in the downpour, damp and unwearable.

so he leads you into his cramped room, hastily rummaging through his drawers for something you can wear.

it’s a little self-indulgent and completely the wrong time but his heart flutters when you reappear out of the bathroom sporting his tee and a pair of old gym shorts. now showered and without the blood stains on your face, it’s a welcome sight.

‘better?’ he offers, though he knows a shower could never really help.

you nod, pulling the sleeves down over your hands. it’s so adorable and eddie seriously has to fight his compulsion to just pull you into his arms. he knows there’s no way he can protect you from everything but he’d be damned if he wasn’t going to try.

‘you want a drink? beer?’

your eyes light up, a minuscule smirk appearing on your battered lips. he’s sure wayne would understand why he came home to a non-existent six pack. the berating would be worth it to see you smile again.

he collapses onto the couch next to you, beer in hand as he watches you slowly relax. delighted that he could offer a safe space for you, even if it did come with some very complicated feelings.

that night, admittedly very creepily, he watches as you sleep. terrified to fall asleep in his makeshift bed on the floor in case you needed him.

at some point in the last two weeks, eddie had gone from sleeping on the floor to sleeping in his bed next to you. you’d told him it was far too cold for him on the floor and he should just get in. which he did, with great pleasure. there was nothing to it of course, but a few times he’d woken up to your leg entangled with his or your face pressed against his back.

everything had just got a whole lot more comfortable. rides to work, cooking for one another and some shared looks that he’d been unable to put his finger on. not wanting to believe they had any deeper meaning but at the same time, he knew that that wasn’t how friends looked at each other.

it’s a rare night you both have off, sat in the trailer watching halloween, neither of you really interested in what’s going on on the screen. there’s an inexplicable tension in the air tonight, you’re quieter than usual which eddie doesn’t like.

‘you okay?’ he dares to ask. he’d felt a little overbearing those first few days, constantly checking on you to make sure you were okay.

‘hmm? oh, i’m okay,’ setting your bottle of beer on the table, ending up much closer to him when you sit back.

‘you sure? you’re quiet,’ keen not to let on that he was absolutely buzzing about your close proximity.

‘just thinking.’

‘about?’

you let out a soft breath, twisting around to look at him fully. the only times he’d been this close to you were in bed where he laid and listened to your soft snores and when you’d been covered in injuries. neither one were exceptionally great circumstances.

‘you,’ you blink up at him, smiling just enough to make his heart skip a beat.

‘me?’ he can’t decipher whether that’s a good thing or not.

‘mhm.’

‘what about me?’

you don’t respond for what feels like an eternity but your gaze lowers, glancing at his lips and back to his eyes. if he weren’t staring directly into your bright eyes, he’d have missed it.

‘i really want to kiss you,’ you say, so brazenly that eddie’s not quite sure if he’s heard you correctly, almost sputtering on his breath as the words process.

‘you.. you wanna kiss me?’ trying hard not to sound so astounded. pretty girls didn’t want to kiss eddie, not like this.

you nod, ‘can i?’

there are stars in his eyes, blood pumping around his limbs at an alarming rate. his head is fuzzy and if he weren’t sitting, he’d probably have fainted.

‘please,’ he chokes, desperately forcing the word out before it becomes impossible.

your palms are soft as they caress his cheek, wishing that he’d shaved before this had unfolded. his heartbeat stutters, bubbling with anticipation as you lean in, gentle lips locking onto his as his eyes flutter shut.

this is it. he’d dreamt of kissing you for weeks, practiced on his hand an embarrassing amount of times and yet still nothing could’ve prepared him for how earth shattering this felt. his heart is practically jumping out of his chest and he’s sure you can feel it thumping against yours.

it’s as if fate had bought the two of you together, moving against each other in perfect harmony. if he died tomorrow, he’d die a happy man.

your hand creeps down onto his chest, holding yourself upright as you shift onto your knees. do you want to have sex with him? is this actually happening? his fingertips vibrate as they connect with your waist, like you weren’t even real and just a figment of his overactive imagination.

the second your lips part from his, he wants to cry, pull you back in and never let go. the absence of contact makes him whine, opening his eyes to see yours gazing back, they look different. different to how you’ve ever looked at him before, full of something unspeakable.

‘do you want to?’ you ask quietly into the minimal space between you.

eddie wants to so bad, more than he’s ever wanted anything in his life. nodding hurriedly to let you know just how eager he is. there’s not a chance in hell he’d let this opportunity slip through his fingers.

your lips twitch into a smile at his permission, fingers curling around the hem of his shirt.

but before you get any further, the trailer door clicks open and wayne is stood in the doorway, pizza box in hand accompanying his unimpressed scowl. ‘okay well, i think that’s enough of that,’ he grumbles, shuffling into the trailer as you climb off eddie’s lap, back into your own spot.

‘sorry wayne.. i didn’t know you were back so early,’ his cheeks burning, bashful as ever. it wasn’t enough for wayne to walk in on that but he was always now straining against his jeans, trying desperately to hide the tent while you reshuffle, pulling your shorts back down to a more appropriate length.

‘yeah yeah whatever,’ his uncle shakes his head, trundling over to the couch and tossing the box onto the cluttered coffee table, ‘move over boy, i wanna watch my programme,’ collapsing into the empty seat beside his nephew with a deep, guttural sigh.

the two of you share a sly smirk, tuning in to whatever shit wayne had put on without saying another word. stifling your laughter with a piece of pizza as eddie tries and fails to discretely pull a pillow onto his lap.

it’s hours later when you both crawl into bed and eddie has checked five times that wayne’s actually asleep before he gets to kiss you again.

bundled up under the covers when you pull him on top of you, your face gloriously basked in the bright moonlight shining in. it’s breathtaking.

‘you want to?’ you ask again, as if his answer had changed in those few hours.

he nods, his curls brushing fall down and brush against your cheek, ‘have you.. before?’ you ask cautiously. he’s not offended, even if he should be.

he has had sex before. only twice. when ellen had first joined hellfire, they had sorta had a year long fling which had ended after they had sex and ellen realised that maybe she didn’t actually like men. that was a super boost to his confidence. and then at senior prom when tina took great pity on him and somehow they ended up having sex in the back of his van.

he nods anyway, granted he’s not the most experienced but he’ll sure as hell try.

‘good,’ you smile, warm thighs wrapping around his torso as you reconnect your lips. it’s soft, gentle even. world’s apart from his previous encounters. this felt real, like you weren’t just kissing because you had to but because you wanted to.

it’s too cold in the trailer to care about removing your clothes, though he’s sure that’ll change in a minute. focussing on getting his tongue inside of your mouth, rutting against your pajama shorts. the friction causing his already semi-hard dick to rise, unable to contain the moan from escaping.

a smirk flashes across his face as his hand drags your shorts down your legs, savouring every moment of being able to touch your bare, supple skin. his hand makes its way back up your legs, repositioning the one he could grasp back around his lower back.

he has trouble getting his boxers down, too excited to focus on being smooth about it. appreciating the feel of your hand tugging the fabric down. you’re barely kissing at this point, your lips connecting with the corner of his mouth, all messy as the anticipation takes over.

‘you sure?’ he asks, gazing down at you with hooded eyes. he could just about remember what to do. sending a quick prayer upstairs to not let him be utterly useless.

‘i’m sure,’ you breathe, the feel of your fingers tangled into the hair that covered the back of his neck.

‘okay..’ he nods, mostly to himself as he wraps a head around his cock, positioning himself at your entrance. taking a brief moment to just capture this moment in preparation of it never happening again.

the pleasure overcomes his body as he slides in, already almost losing himself as he fills you up. a soft moan escapes your lips, gripping onto his neck. he is acutely aware that his uncle is asleep on the other side of the old trailer so he muffles his face into your neck, lips connecting with your jaw bone, kissing any and every bit of skin exposed to him.

sex had never felt like this before. at best, it had felt slightly better than when he jerked off, but this was something else. eddie knows it’s cliche and is definitely only because you feel so fucking good around him, but it’s as if you were made for each other.

hands pressed into the pillow so hard that he wouldn’t be surprised if there were a permanent dent either side of your head. using everything within himself not to start hollering, eyes fluttering shut against your neck. he moves in and out at an agonisingly slow pace. the small room filling with the sounds of your soaking wet cunt. its undeniable to anyone with ears and he just hopes to god that wayne is still asleep.

his own low groans vibrating against your cheek, mouth hanging open as his thrusts grow faster. you’re panting softly directly into his ear, spurring him on. despite the feel of your perfect cunt around him, the best feeling is knowing that he’s making you feel good.

‘h-holy shit,’ he mumbles nonsensically into the crook of your neck, not allowing himself to come for air because he know that the second he looks at your face, he’ll cum.

your one hand is splayed out on his upper back, the other holding onto his sweaty neck beneath his mop of hair. whining his name into his ear, driving him into a frenzy with the sound of your breathy voice, desire rippling through your moans. he should tell you to be quiet but that’d be cruel and he’d rather take the shame of wayne knowing than not hearing you.

your legs shift higher the position allowing him to reach the golden spot, nudging the soft, spongy spot over and over. eddie figures you’re far more experienced than he is. with no offence meant to you but you obviously know what works. this is new territory for him, a closeness that he’d never known possible.

you’re engulfing him completely, every single one of his senses encompassed by you. you’re all he can see even with his eyes screwed shut, all he can hear, taste and smell. god knows you’re all he can feel, calves squeezing around his back and your perfect pussy tightening around him.

he groans, feeling his stomach begin to twist in that all too familiar feeling. orgasms had never felt so good, it’s like everything was dialled up to level ten. ‘i’m gonna.. shit- i’m gonna come,’ he babbles far too loudly.

every noise tumbling out of your mouth was pulling him closer, no record could ever come close to the sweet mewls that were slipping between your lips. his arms begin to tremble under his own weight. feeling your legs quivering around his waist as your orgasm begins to overtake your body, sinful noises echoing around the otherwise quiet trailer.

‘ohh fuck,’ he growls, feeling your walls clenching around him, it was like he’d been pushed over the edge. the only way he can begin to describe it was otherworldly, flashes of white light illuminate his eyelids.

images of your face accompany your honeyed whimpers and he has to pull out before he explodes. spurts of his release cover his hand and admittedly the back of your thigh. if he had any semblance of control, he’d have been embarrassed but he’s not exactly sure that he’s still on planet earth.

he dares to open his eyes, watching as your chest heaves below him clinging onto his forearm with desperate fingertips. you’re looking up at him as if he’s the only person you’d ever seen. mouth slack as you regain your breath.

‘jesus christ,’ he whispers, hand resting on your angled knee as he floats back down to your planet.

eddie clambers off of the bed with a grunt, wiping a hand over his sweaty face. reaching down to grab his previously discarded towel. it wasn’t the epitome of romance but he darent to leave his room, petrified that wayne had just heard that entire encounter.

he’s a gentleman, of course, running the towel over your thigh to clean his mess. offering you a tiny shrug as if to say sorry. rather suddenly he feels rather conscious of himself, refusing to look at you as his cheeks flame.

it’s ridiculous. he’d just been buried between your legs and yet now couldn’t even look you in the fucking eyes.

before he gets up again, your hand reaches out, curling around his t-shirt. ‘stop,’ using his shirt as leverage for you to sit up.

in one quick movement, you’re placing a tiny onto his lips. a reassurance he really shouldn’t have needed but he appreciates nonetheless.

‘don’t do that,’ you hush, millimetres from his face, the shadow of his broken blinds shine upon your cheek. it hurts him to know that someone would dare look at you and want to hurt you.

if it were possible, he’d take all of your pain and carry it with him instead.

‘okay..’ he nods, resisting the urge to apologise once again.

you giggle and it sounds like the heavens have opened, pulling his body on top of yours as his bed makes an almighty squeak. if wayne wasn’t already awake, he certainly would be now.

eddie doesn’t know where the fuck you are.

you hadn’t come back to the trailer after work last night and now you’re nowhere to be found. you were supposed to start half an hour ago but hadn’t turned up and now his heart is pounding, mind racing at the horrific possibilities of what could’ve happened.

at first, he’d thought maybe he said something wrong? he’d just thrown out the suggestion of going to get the rest of your things and moving them in here while you got back on your feet. he hadn’t meant to push you out, god no, that was the last thing he wanted.

maybe stupidly he had presumed you wanted your own space. whatever the hell was going on between you two was so fresh, he didn’t want to even chance fucking it up.

the guilt wracks his brain, tempted to drop everything to drive around this tiny town looking for you. he’s so stupid. should’ve just kept his mouth shut and enjoyed it while you were there.

he’s just about to tell james that he’s leaving when the door to the bar opens and a rough looking man comes through with you held tightly underneath his arm. your eyes avoiding his direction, staring at the floor as the mystery man ushers you towards the back, making himself comfortable at the bar.

eddie’s heart shatters into a million pieces, watching open mouthed as you disappear into the back.

judging by the look on james’ face, he recognises him, reluctantly pouring his beer as they engage in useless small talk.

‘thought i’d better sit in for her shift.. wouldn’t want her running off again,’ the man announces, beady eyes glaring right into his soul.

eddie knows who he is. he’d never seen him before but he could tell. they all had that sinister aura about them, like they could flip at any given moment. his dad was the same, walking on egg shells around him just in case he said the wrong thing or looked at him the wrong way.

you emerge from the staff room, still vehemently avoiding eye contact, a shell of the you he saw just yesterday. ‘hey.. you okay?’ eddie asks, but it falls flat as you walk off without so much as a look back towards him.

he can’t believe it, how you could be so different so quickly. as if the past few weeks you’d spent together had meant nothing. he can’t blame you. not really. it’s a cycle and he knows better than anyone that it takes a thousand attempts to actually break out of it.

his shoulders slump as he rushes out the back, refusing to look at that assholes face any longer. willing himself to get a grip and not jump over that bar to strangle the piece of shit right now.

a hand clamps down on his shoulder and for a brief moment he thinks he might be you until james clears his throat, shuffling on his feet behind him, ‘you can’t save her man,’ squeezing his shoulder firmly, ‘you think we haven’t tried?’

eddie sniffs, shrugging him off. he didn’t appreciate the patronising tone in which james was speaking to him.

because god knows, if he couldn’t save his mom, there’s no fucking chance he’s not saving you.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson smut #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #stranger things x you #eddie munson x female reader smut

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sim0nril3y · 1 year ago

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First Date

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Civilian!Reader Scenario: It's no denying that their first date is a little rocky to begin with, but as things settle Simon wondered if he is in too deep. Warnings: No mask Simon (It's my personal headcanon in his regular life he probably wouldn't wear it), mentions of alcohol, suggestive conversation, slight mention of smut, canon-typical swearing (I mean, it's Ghost for fuck sake!).

Bloody fucking hell. It was still beyond him why Simon had actually agreed to this mess. Why had he done this to himself? Maybe he’d had too much to drink. Maybe a pretty face made him completely lose his mind… or whatever was left of it. Whatever the reason was he was here now. Waiting in an Italian restaurant with a cold lager half-finished beside him and the chair opposite him empty. Maybe you’d thought better of it. Maybe that was for the best. Fuck, it still fucking hurt though…

A sudden flutter of commotion came from behind him. Looking over his shoulder to watching as you rushed across the room, removing your coat to reveal a beautiful silky dress that contoured to your frame seamlessly, his eyes had lingered on your body for so long he almost missed the guilty smile you shared with him. “Bloody taxi driver got the wrong restaurant.” You announced before allowing your tense shoulders to fall. “I’m not typically this flustered – I promise.”

“I believe you.” Simon then rose and stepped around the table, taking your chair in hand and pulling it out for you to sit in before tucking it in. There was a lot you could say about Simon Riley, but he was a gentleman to the people that deserved it the most. After giving you a few moments to settle Simon finally asked. “You want a drink?” Taking a swig of his own beer and quirking his brow at you. “God, yes. I’d literally murder for a white wine.” Your dramatics made him laugh, like genuinely, he wasn’t really sure the last time someone had made him do that… Pushing those thoughts to the back of his mine Simon flagged down the waiter and ordering you one.

“What s’it you do for work?” Simon asked then, forgetting for a moment that it might be very possible for you not to be established into the working world yet, especially with how long young people seemed to stay at university now. “I’m a barmaid down at the Golden Lion.” Oh, he knew that place. It wasn’t so fancy up-and-coming gastropub. No, it was a rundown old pub owned by a miserable git. He knew the type of tossers that went in there too. “It’s not what I want to do forever, but it works right now.” There was an easy shrug to your shoulders before you admitted. “I’m an artist.” The words had drifted from your mouth with such ease. An artist. That wasn’t a real job, Simon thought. “You got any backup plans, kid?”

You blinked at him blankly before a grin spread across your features. “You sound like my parents.” Brushing away the question with another carefree shrug. That second Simon hated your optimism. It was that same optimism all kids your age had. That same sense that the world owed them their dreams. There was this malicious part of Simon that wanted to burst your bubble, deflate your self-entitled ego and remind you that the real world didn’t care about your dreams or your wants. Your voice cut through the silence again. “Who knows, it probably won’t work out, but I want to try just for a few more years.”

“Yeah…” Jesus, he felt like such a prick. He had just assumed that you was just some dumb kid that felt like the world owed them something, but… but you were just a hopeful girl that was chasing a very tricky and far away dream. Who was he to judge? You’d found a way to sustain yourself whilst also trying to navigate into a very select profession. “You any good?” His cheeks suddenly set aflame at how the question sounded on his tongue. “Your art, I mean. Is it good?”

A delicate giggle bubbled in your throat as you finished your wine with a quick swig. “I like to think I’m pretty good…” Lifting your sultry and inviting gaze to find his own. “Maybe I could show you sometime…” Simon couldn’t believe it when he felt his heart fucking stutter in his chest. Fucking hell. It was that moment that he realised was in deep here. Clearing his throat Simon adjusted himself discreetly in his seat. It was going to be a hard end to this dinner – no pun intended.

Leading her across the carpark Simon stood beside the waiting cab, hand on the open door as you spoke softly to the driver through the window. A moment later you gazed up into his eyes and offered quietly. “I had a really nice time tonight…” The sweetness of your tone was enough to warm him even in this bitter night air. “Yeah…” He grunted out. “Me too…” Adding swiftly a moment later causing you to breathe out a subtle sigh of relief. “Are you gonna put me out of my misery and take me out again, or gonna make me beg for it?” Jesus, the idea of you begging was something that made his heart race. Knelt. Eyes pleading. Every inch of you- Stop. He can’t do that right now.

Placing a firm finger under your chin Simon jutted her head back forcing you to meet his intense gaze. “Get the feeling you don’t beg all that often, kid.” That same little smirk found your lips, watching as your eyes darkened at his comment. “M’sure it’s a sweet fuckin’ sound…” He was fighting internally with himself. Part of him screamed to just give you exactly what you wanted. Bend your tight body over that bonnet and fuck you stupid. Another part of him told himself to allow himself some form of happiness, take you out again and see what might happen. The final part scoffed and scowled at that optimism. It warned him that being with him was practically a death sentence. No, he needed to let you go, let you move on and find a boring man to turn into a husband and pop out a couple ankle-biters with. “Are you free next week?” Your question came interrupting his cruel inner monologue. No. Say no. End this. “Yes.” A wild grin tore across your features, you had certainly won this round.

Masterlist | Ask | 30-08-2023

#simon ghost x reader #simon riley x oc #simon riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley x you #simon riley imagine #ghost x reader #ghost mw2 #ghost cod #ghost imagine #ghost x oc #ghost x you

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oracle-of-dream · 11 months ago

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Something Special

Summary: You've been getting closer to Jay, a wealthy businessman, as you've been booked to sing at multiple events for this business dinner. He invites you as his plus one this time, but you have a song written just for him prepared...

Notes: Some non-sexual works are in order since I haven't released any in a while, so I hope you like it <3

Wordcount: 2.8k

Sitting in a cafe, in a corner seat near the window. You could feel the sunlight shining through the window warming you up from the cold winter air. You came here to find some inspiration for your song. You wanted to write something special for a man who you met here. You could remember the day he walked into the cafe. It was an open mic night, which you went to every single one to practice singing on stage. Most people didn’t really pay attention to you, but one man couldn’t look away from you. It felt like you were singing just to him like the two of you were alone in the room together. That was months ago. The man introduced himself as Jay Park, the CEO of one of the businesses in the area. Some fashion company, and judging from the clothes he was wearing you could tell it wasn’t a lie either… Jay asked if you’d be interested in working a few gigs, promising very generous pay for some classy late-night singer vibes to come to his studio events. The first event was something to remember. It was on a huge stage with a live band. The room was full of people, most of them not really paying attention, the number was enough to even make you want to reconsider performing at all. But Jay spoke to you before the performance, encouraging you, and it turned out to be one of the best nights you’d ever performed.

You scratched your head in frustration, looking down at your notepad. It was full of lyrics from the song you’ve been working on for the better part of two months. You heard that your favorite client liked to have a New Year’s dinner for his company with live music. Meaning that it would be the perfect time to showcase a new song, but nothing seemed to fit the feeling you wanted. Something special…

You heard your phone ringing and answered, “Hello?”

“Hey Songbird, you busy?”

You smiled at the nickname he gave you. “Never too busy for my favorite businessman.”

“Did you eat yet? We could go out to lunch in a bit, my treat!”

“Jay, it’s always your treat when you take me out.”

“Well, I can’t let you pick up the bill. It’s a pride thing, ya know?”

“Pride in what,” you scoffed.

“Pride in knowing I’m taking care of you. I like treating you. And there’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you about too...” Jay’s voice was a little tight like he was nervous about something.

You pretended not to know that he was going to ask you to sing for him. “What’s the occasion, maybe another gig?”

“I did have a gig for you on New Year’s Eve, but I found another singer.”

You hesitated, trying to collect your brain before replying. Your face felt a little warm and your smile faded after registering what he’d said.

Jay broke the silence first, “Not that you’re not an amazing singer, I just figured you’d be a little too busy that night since–”

“I’m super busy actually! I gotta go catch up with another client calling. We’ll get back to this another time, yeah?”

“Y/n?”

You didn’t let Jay finish before you hung up the phone. Your face was hot and getting hotter as you thought more about it. It’s just business with him, so it doesn’t matter to him who he hires for events or whatever. Even giving a courtesy call to tell you not to worry about the event. The nerve of that guy! You look back at your notepad and flip to the next page, writing new lyrics to your song, something to show how you really felt about him.

Jay tried calling again after an hour, even texting you. You decided to mute his number while you were in your creative process. Since he had time to hire another singer because he assumed you were busy, then you were too busy to answer the phone.

Three days had passed since you last spoke to Jay. You were still muting his notifications, but couldn’t help yourself from looking at the texts… It was mostly confusion in the beginning. Then trying to explain something, but Jay seemed apologetic. It had been a while since his last message, which was just, “I’m sorry”. That’s when the guilt started to set in. Were you being too harsh to him? It’s not like it's a contract deal or that he had feelings for you, so it didn’t matter if he hired another singer. But you still couldn’t find out why you got so angry in the first place.

You picked up your phone and called Jay. It rang and rang, but there was no answer. Maybe he moved on after you freaked out and ghosted him… You went back to your notepad, looking at the lyrics you wrote. The new ones were mean and it felt horrible reading what you’d written about him. You ripped out the pages and threw them all away, trying to put that part of yourself aside.

You called his office. His secretary Mrs.R answered. She was an older lady who looked after Jay like she was his mother. She was always willing to speak her mind to her boss, which is why he liked her.

“Hello, Y/n! It’s so good to finally hear from you. Mr.Park has been trying to get in contact with you!”

“I know…” Your throat was so dry, it was hard to speak. “Is he in the office today?”

“Yes, he’s here. He’ll be in meetings for most of his evening. Should I tell him you called?”

You thought about it… “No, I don’t want to bother him while he’s at work. I know he’ll cut corners and try to make time to talk to me, I wouldn’t want him to do that.”

“Oh, okay. I would like to ask a question, if I may. What were you planning to wear to the New Year’s Eve dinner? Mr.Park asked me to pick out a suit for him, but I thought it would be best if he matched with you.”

You cocked your head to the side. “Why would he need to match with me?”

“Well, you’re his date, aren’t you?”

“Date!? He didn’t mention anything about that to me.” You tried to think about when he may have asked you.

“He told me he was planning to call you and ask you a few days ago. I told him it’s better to ask in person, so he said he’d invite you to lunch and ask you then.”

You remembered the last time he invited you to lunch… When you hung up on him.

“Actually. Mrs.R, if you could tell him I called. I’d really appreciate it.”

“I’ll let him know right away.”

“Thank you.”

You hung up the phone feeling like an idiot. You kept your phone with you for the rest of the day, checking it constantly, but got nothing from Jay. It was around 11 pm when you really started freaking out. New Year’s Eve was tomorrow and you had no real way of getting to him. You typed out a big paragraph apology to him for not listening to him and begged him to call you.

After a shower to clear your head, your phone rang. You almost fell as you rushed to answer it in time.

“Jay! Look I’m so sorry, I was an idiot for not trying to listen–”

“I’m so sorry dear. I’m not Mr.Park…” You heard Mrs.R’s voice coming out of your phone.

“Sorry… How can I help you, Mrs.R?”

“I was hoping I could drop off this suit for you. I thought you could use it for the event tomorrow.”

“He hasn’t answered me, and I don’t think he will at this rate.” You sighed.

“He’s probably being petty. He’s like that when he’s upset, but I have an idea for you if you’re willing to go through with it.”

Your ears perked at her idea. You gave her directions to your home and she explained her plan about how she wanted you to crash his party to make him see you again. However, she left a lot of things vague with only one thing very clear.

“You can’t talk to him before you get there. If you do, it could potentially give away the plan.” She warned.

You nodded in understanding as you took the bag she brought for you. Inside was the luxury suit, taken from one of the product lines in the company. You walked her to the door and thanked her for helping you, waving her off as she walked back to her car and drove away.

The suit was black with a white button-up, but the fabric was sleek and smooth. Something you’d more likely see Jay wear, but if it was a part of the plan then you knew you had to wear it.

The next morning, you fought the urge to text and call Jay again. It used to talk almost every day, but almost five days of not speaking to him was starting to get to you. That’s when you started getting texts from Mrs.R.

“Okay, first we need to get you into the building undetected. We can’t put you on the guest list as Jay gets a copy of it so he doesn’t forget who’s coming, so we’ll need to sneak you in with the catering business.”

Her plan sounded straight out of a spy movie, but you had no objections. You took your time putting on makeup and the suit, setting your hair right, and plucked your lyric book with you before leaving to head to the location of the party.

Upon arriving, you parked and followed the crowds of people towards the front. Your phone buzzed again.

“The caterers enter from the side entrance, white van. They should be expecting you, so just grab some supplies and help them inside. Once you're in, come find me.”

You texted her back. “Isn’t this a little extra? I could’ve asked him if I could come…”

“Of course it’s extra! He loves this kinda stuff, if you want to show him how serious you are, then you should be extra.”

You sighed as you walked away from the front of the building, to its side, and followed the caterers into the building as they carried in food, utensils, and more. Just as she told you, none of the staff bothered asking who you were. You took a few turns down the several hallways until it opened up into the main ballroom for the event, where you instantly spotted Mrs.R at the reception table.

You rushed over to her, holding an empty tray.

“Mrs.R!”

She smiled as you came over. “Well, who’s this handsome server?”

“So what next in your master plan?”

She took out a sheet of paper. “This is the itinerary. The singer we had was supposed to get here already, but I’ve managed to send them home. Without a singer, Jay will be desperate for a new one. And then that’s when you’ll take the stage. I’ll give you a signal, so hurry and get backstage!”

You didn’t know whether to be shocked or impressed by her control of the whole plan, but you didn’t have time to decide. You rushed backstage, ditching the metal tray somewhere.

A voice came over the speakers, it was Mrs.R! “Ladies and gentlemen. I deeply apologize for the delay on the music, we’ve finally gotten someone who’s ready to give a little ambiance.”

You could see the audience from where you were standing. Jay was sitting towards the front with an irritated look on his face, talking to some other men he was sitting with. The rest of the audience was either eating or talking amongst themselves, which you were used to, but you got the same feeling from your first performance for Jay… Your hands were cold, your stomach churned, and your knees were locking into place.

Mrs.R walked backstage. “Okay, it's your–,” she noticed your stressed expression. “Oh dear, are you so nervous about performing in front of him?”

You shrugged as your mouth wouldn’t open.

“He wants to see you. And I know you want to see him too, I can see it in your eyes. He needs you to be strong right now, so you have to go!” Mrs.R ended her short pep talk by handing you her microphone and giving you a small push toward the stage.

The push was enough to get you to move your feet, and walk onto the stage. White lights shined onto your face, almost blinding you. Some of the audience was hard to see, but you could see Jay. Front and center, still talking. It didn’t seem like he’d noticed you yet.

You positioned the microphone on the stand and nodded to the band to start the first song in the set. You started singing, only looking at Jay. Hoping he’d look back at you…

It was about a minute into the song before he looked at you for the first time in five days. His expression softened and he cracked a smile when he saw you onstage. He nodded his in approval as you sang to him. You went through the first set of the event before being allowed to have a break.

You stepped backstage and Jay met you there.

“You’re here!?” Jay hugged you tightly.

“Y-Yeah… I’m here.” You hugged him back, enjoying every second of him holding you.

Eventually, the two of you separated, and Jay was the first to speak. “Did you get my messages?”

You nodded. “And did you get mine?”

“Of course I did. I tried to call you, but I was in meetings all day and still had preparations for the event. So I didn’t get the chance to call you… And I honestly thought you didn’t want to hear from me anymore.” Jay’s voice was full of relief, and he looked like he could’ve burst into tears at that moment. “Why did you hang up on me that day? I didn’t get to explain myself…”

“I… I felt a bit jealous. And irritated that you didn’t want to ask me if I wanted to sing for your event, and you assumed I was busy–”

“I was going to ask you to be my date at the party. You’d be too busy sitting with me to be on stage singing, is what I wanted to say.” Jay sighed. “I didn’t think you’d get so irritated that you’d hang up before I could give the pickup line.”

You felt more embarrassed hearing him say it. “When you said date, did you mean an actual one? Or just your plus one?”

“I meant, Date,” Jay said flatly. “I wanted tonight to be special, so I could ask you if we could look into something a little… more personal than Singer and Client. I just didn’t really know how to play it.”

“Is that still on the table?” You asked.

“I’m open to negotiations,” he replied smugly.

“Watch it, businessman. I’m not too into contracts.”

“Right, no cages for the Songbird. I remember.”

You blushed at the nickname. “Do you have somewhere a little private? Just us?”

Jay looked around before leading you to an elevator. It was all glass, with a view of the city as it got higher off the ground. He pressed on the 50th floor, letting the elevator rise. Right before the doors opened, he switched the elevator off. “Private enough?”

You looked out at the city lights. “Perfect.” You pull out your notepad from your pocket. “I wrote you a song if you’re willing to hear it…”

Jay leaned against the wall of the elevator. “A private show? I’d love that…” His gaze was locked on you as you prepared yourself in front of him.

You sang Jay the song you’d spent the last two months writing, pouring in everything you’d felt about him. Tell him about the first time you met, your first performance for him, and how he had your heart since that day…

At the end of your song, you saw a firework explode behind Jay. High in the sky. It shined beautiful green and purple colors. You moved closer to see more fireworks.

“Happy New Year, Songbird…” Jay whispered as he held your waist, pulling you close to him. “Do I get a New Year’s kiss too?” Jay spun you around to face him, his face lighting up from the colors of the fireworks. It felt like time had stopped moving as he leaned down to you. He softly placed his lips on yours, drinking your lips under the stars and lights of a new year. A new year together…

#oracle of dreams #kpop x male reader #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen imagines #enhypen drabbles #enhypen #jay #jay enhypen #jay enha #park jongseong #jay park #enhypen x reader #enhypen x male reader

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daniellelocklyn · 2 years ago

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General Mahamatra Cyno x Fem! Akademiya Reader

The reader in this scenario will be from darshan amurta (biology specialized)

It's your last year in Akademiya and sadly you just broke up with your boyfriend after a big quarrel between the both of you. You found out your now ex-boyfriend was plagiarizing his thesis from a previous research, you warned him already, you just don't want him to receive the judge from the general mahamatra, yet he was so furious at you for talking abou the general mahamatra in front of his face, he even assumed you to have a crush on the general mahamatra. For no reason, your ex-boyfriend really hate the current Akademiya's general mahamatra.

After your breakup, your ex started spreading fake news about you having a crush on the general mahamatra. This spreading rumor doesn't really affect you in any way since Cyno himself never really heard of the rumor, he's the busy general mahamatra after all. But one morning, you happened to meet him in the Akademiya's library, it was nothing at first, until a bunch of annoying second grader starts whispering, and Cyno heard that. To your surprise, Cyno actually know you and your name, but he doesn't really care about that rumor he just heard, to him, you are just an Akademiya student, nothing more.

The rumor was starting to get annoying, but you can't really do nothing about it. Sometimes you wonder if Cyno also feel bothered by these rumors. You're just grateful that you never had to face the general mahamatra because of the rumors. You accidently encountered the general mahamatra a few times, he never glanced at you during those encounters, that made your heart relieved.

Since you had a passion in forest biology, sometimes you went to the forest to asked a few questions to the forest watcher, Tighnari, you even helped him out in herbology along with Collei. Surprise surprise, you met Cyno, this time is not just an encounter. Cyno was there to visit Tighnari. He's a chill guy, he didn't bring up those rumor, and told you that outside Akademiya he's not general mahamatra, so you don't need to feel uncomfortable or scared around him. You had a pretty good chat with Cyno, you loved his joke, and you cherished most of your conversation that day. Sadly, that's your only time to have a good chat with him, the next interaction was another hall or library encounter with him, neither of you even smile or greet each other.

It's finally your graduation day. You were very happy with your results graduating from the Akademiya and planning to continue your passion about forest biology. During your graduation day Tighnari and Collei came to congratulate you. Most of your friends received a graduation flower bouqet from their lover, a small part of your heart wished you and your boyfriend never broke up in the first place, because you guys promised to graduate together, but he did wrong, so I guess he's not a worth person to mourn for. A light tap on your shoulder bring you back to reality after a you spaced out a little, it's Cyno the general mahamatra. You greeted him politely. You can't believe your eyes when he handed you a bouquet of flower, he whispered a little "congrats" with a slightly visible blush upon his cheeks. Seeing the general mahamatra himself on your graduation day was already surprising for you, but you get more surprised after he suddenly confessed to you. "Hey, I know this is weird, we barely know each other, but will you be my girlfriend? I swear it has nothing to do with the rumor, I just feel comfortable with you after we met that day in Tighnari's place"

You agreed to be his girlfriend that day. Who are you to reject such charming general mahamatra. Unknown to the both of you the rumor actually does a thing, after that rumor both of you slowly start to find out more about each other, just because.

#genshin headcanons #genshin impact #genshin cyno #cyno x you #cyno x reader #cyno scenarios #cyno headcanons #general mahamatra #genshin scenarios

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hollowwrites · 1 year ago

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To Hogsmeade

Garreth x MC

Summary - I might make this a thing? How different people would deal with Hogsmeade? I’ve already lost my mind after my game freaked out and I had Ominis and Sebastian in Hogsmeade with me so that’s an option. Also just Ominis taking you?

Don’t get me wrong I love Sebastian (I keep getting requests for Seb and it’s made me love him DAMN YOU ALL) but there should have been more options.

Also there’s some unintentional shade thrown at Sebastian for leaving you to your own devices in Hogsmeade. Seb would deffo join you, especially to pick your wand.

Warnings - None, Just a rewrite of Hogsmeade with Garr, Violence(?) for the troll battle

Word Count - 1506

Why?

Why him?

The fact that people assume being the nephew of the Deputy Headmistress is a good thing means they never see aspects like this.

The new fifth year needed to go into Hogsmeade for some supplies and after Sallow had gotten himself another detention and Professor Onai had dragged Natty off for a ��talking to’, Garreths aunt had ‘Volunteered’ him.

He wouldn’t mind if he’d have actually spoken to them, but he’d seen them once. All he knew about her was that she was a Hufflepuff. So they were going to be overly sensitive, whiney and a general spoilsport.

Perhaps he shouldn’t judge. Maybe their timid appearance in the Great Hall was due to the dragon Attack they endured, not because they’re the typical Hufflepuff.

And if he was admitting things, maybe she was quite pretty.

Whilst he was daydreaming, he hadn’t noticed her approach him, her hands toying with the edges of her robe. She tapped his shoulder delicately causing a rather dramatic display to burst from the waiting Weasley.

She could’ve sworn both feet left the floor how high he’d jumped. He clutched his chest with an open palm and huge emerald eyes stared down at her.

“Merlin’s great grey beard!! When did you show up?” He asked. She thought he was meant to sound annoyed, but the strain of his voice squeaked under the mini heart attack she had given him.

She laughed.

Full on guffawing at him.

He was about to be significantly annoyed at the turn of events his afternoon had taken…

And then she snorted

She threw her hands around her face, trying to hide the embarrassment of such a noise escaping her. All amusement now leaving her.

“HA! What was that?” It was his turn to laugh

“I’m sorry but that was really funny. I’ve never seen anyone jump like that” she snorted again and her eyes shot open, wide.

“That’s brilliant!” He smirked. After a few more moments laughing at her adorable behaviour he asked, “Shall we get going? My Aunt…sorry…Professor Weasley has asked me to escort you to the village for supplies. It being your first time there and all.”

“Sure let’s go.” She said wiping an amused tear from her eye.

He pushed the huge doors open for her and gestured for her to come through. His arms spread wide to keep them open, she crouched under his arm through the doors. He tipped an imaginary hat as he let go of the doors, and she snickered.

“I’m sorry you had to do this. I’ll make it up to you, somehow, I promise. Merlin knows what you’re missing escorting me” she said looking at the floor as they began their long walk to Hogsmeade.

“Oh nonsense” he said quickly forgetting about all his previous undeserved preconceptions. She actually seemed quite nice. And thoughtful.

And pretty he thought, again

“Anyway…” he coughed clearing his head “I’m Garreth by the way. Garreth Weasley. Yes I’m related to the deputy headmistress, as previous stated, and no it is not as fun as you would believe.”

“I’m Maeve. Bramford” she held her hand out as they walked. He took it eagerly, shaking it with perhaps a bit too much vigor. She laughed yet again.

And giggly too. Cute.

“What is it that you’re after?”

“I have a list…I’m not sure I understand most of it” her face scrunched up as she fumbled for the list in her pocket. “Ah…” she pulled the parchment out “A wand, some spellcrafts…what looks like potion ingredients?”

“Potions? Oh it’s a good job I came then. I’m something of a potions prodigy” he boasted causing her to raise an eyebrow.

“Is that so?”

“Oh yes” he said proudly, his step taking a more confident stride. “You’ll discover soon enough. Perhaps we’ll have Potions together? Thursday, second period?”

She scrambled around her little field guide for the scrap of paper her schedule was on. She looked up, grinning.

“Yes, you’ll have to show me your ways. I have absolutely no idea what I’m doing” her eyebrows raised and pulled to the middle. A look of confusion evident on her face.

“Fear not, you are in very capable hands. Observe…” he sauntered over to a glowing bush, pulling out a little jar from his robes and scooping up a few of the delicate flies littering the foliage. “These are Lacewings. You can stew them for an ingredient in Focus Potions.” He held up the jar for her to look at

“They’re kind of cute” she scrunched her nose up, tapping lightly on the side and delighting as they glowed once more.

“Typical Hufflepuff” he teased and handed her the jar.

As they entered Hogsmeade, Maeve was overwhelmed by the sudden smell and atmosphere. It was as though the village had a bubble over it, keeping its magic inside.

The sweet smell called to her and she found herself gravitating towards it, walking up the cobbled pathways as though she knew where she was going. She felt a small tug on her robes before someones hand enveloped hers.

“Come on you, I know Honeydukes is tempting but my Aunt will jinx me if we don’t get this list done. I promise I’ll take you there after” he grinned. His freckled cheeks puffed out with mischief and he guided her along to the first shop on the list.

“You can go on ahead, I can find you later. Maybe we can meet up afterwards?” She offered feeling bad for taking more of his time. He released her hand and put his hand on his hips.

“Firstly, what kind of guide would I be letting you loose in the village? and Secondly…” he tilts his head in a faux strict way “I don’t trust you to not spend all your galleons in Honeydukes. Now let’s go…I can already tell you’re going to be trouble.”

“Bloody hell” Garreth panted as the villagers lured the troll away from them. “That was close” he looked over at Maeve and smiled, his relief plastered all over his face.

She was as white as a ghost…

He followed her eye-line to a second troll rounding the corner, beating and slamming its club into the walls and floor.

He instinctually pushed her behind him, drawing his wand.

I just need to keep it away from her until Officer Singer returns

That was when he felt a tiny hand on his shoulder, pulling him aside. Her face was stoney and determined as her wand thrust forward. A pearly blue beam shot from her wand towards the troll. It exploded into ash immediately, it’s dusty form blowing away in the wind.

“What was that?!” He turned to her, both scared and amazed

Her face returned to its normal gentle wonderment as she looked at her new wand.

“I…don’t know”

“It was bloody brilliant!” He grabbed her shoulders, shaking her slightly “I knew you were trouble”

Why did I feel so protective of her?

He watched her in The Three Broomsticks, her hands slightly shaking after hearing Rookwood and Ranrok in the alley. But she still looked…innocent. She’d clearly gone through more than anyone in the castle could guess and yet she remained delicate and soft. He leant on his hand as he watched her try Butterbeer for the first time, her eyes going wide at its sugary taste and giggling for the hundredth time as the cream lingered on her nose.

So…adorable…

The doors swung open and the intimidating duo of Rookwood and Harlow made for his new friend.

Garreth placed his hand on her shoulder keeping her in her seat as he got up and stood in front of her. He was thankful for Sirona and the other patrons for coming to her aid.

“Can’t drink Butterbeer forever” Rookwood jeered as he left.

“Watch us!” Garreth shouted back. He turned to her and she looked defeated.

He felt as though he had witnessed every emotion on her face in one day. It made his heart ache. She needed to know this world isn’t like this. It was full of wonder, and amazement and…and…well, magic!

She’s had a little bit of bad luck. That’s all.

“Sirona? Do you mind if we stay here a little longer?”

“Of course, I’ll refill your Butterbeer. Again…on the house” She smiled warmly at the pair, her eyes holding concern as she glanced at Maeve.

“Thank you…Both of you” Maeve said shakily, holding her cup between both hands.

“We’ll wait till they’ve disappeared into whatever hole they came out of and I’ll escort you back to the castle” Garreth took a big swig from his cup and grinned back at her, foam moustache and all. She giggled and followed suit. The pair sporting a matching set of moustaches.

“Sorry you got dragged into all of this. But I really, really appreciate you being here” she wiped her face of the foam and smiled earnestly at him.

“Ah forget about it. I wouldn’t have missed this for the world”

Masterlist

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beommiya · 9 months ago

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Xuan's only reaction was to take a deep breath and gulp, his cheeks growing a shade of light pink for a split second, before he quickly averted his eyes away from Kibum. "H-Have you been awake for long?" Xuan finally managed to stutter, doing a mental facepalm at how dumb the question must have been. Of course he must've been awake for quite some time now, given his reaction and the flustered mess that'd become of Kibum's face! Ah, how stupid of him to just walk like that into the room without making sure that Bum was still asleep... Great, just great! He just managed to make things awkward between them yet again, after barely having established somewhat of an amiable ground...

And not only that, but judging by Kibum's reaction and hast words, it means that he must've also seen hi naked back... Xuan didn't know whether to feel embarrassed or angry at himself for his own stupidity. "Uhmm... I-It's okay, really, no need to apologize... I should be the one saying sorry! I should have checked first..." Xuan clears his throat, his own face growing a shade brighter, as he tries playing it cool. Luckily, Kibum switches the conversation so he's more than willing to answer right away. "Ah, that? Don't worry about it! I came to check on you since you were taking very long in there. I didn't see anything inappropriate though! Made sure to cover you with a towel before taking you out of the water!" They were both two very awkward messes, but in that whole disaster, all Xuan could think about was how stinking cute Kibum looked all flushed and shy like that. This guy was really starting to take a toll on Xuan's heart and he wasn't even aware of it yet!

"I woke up not long ago...The black cat, Chonker, I'm assuming....woke me up." We just met he light chuckle left his lips as he reached to pet the cat again. "Are you working out by any chance?" what was with that question? One would ask that question if he saw another person's toned body, yet Kibum promised to have seen nothing. Xuan must have been the second man he'd ever seen naked in his life apart from Ian. Hence him not knowing how to properly react in such situations. Another reason for him staring earlier and only making his presence known when Xuan went full on naked. "You have a really good figure" why did he keep on running his mouth when he literally saw nothing? One more word and he would probably combust from embarrassment and not keeping his mouth shut.

He was completely mortified by Xuan's statement. It was not a guard, but him who took him out. How do you even cover someone up with a towel when they're in the water? How could he fall asleep there in the first place? He falls on his back and covered his whole face with the pillow. "Tell me, Xuan, why is life like thiiiis?" he whined into the pillow.

Wait now, why would Xuan not look at him and cover him up? Was he not worthy of being looked at? what are you thinking now, Kibum, you must be out of your fucking mind.

@phoenix-of-jade

#dealer verse #anon reply #(( lol lol lol

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sohelish · 1 year ago

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Untitled

Another philosophical discussion passed in a glimpse, touching various topics while heating up here and there. Even Helena had to admit that it was tough to keep calm. Humans, she got used to navigating as it was a matter of survival since the early days. However, one could wound her pride and cause her blood to boil. Aliens were surprisingly worse when it came to discussions of a personal nature. One would assume they'd be more courteous and accepting of differences since it was on the nose - comparing humanoids to each other, especially in terms of social norms, was such a wasteful endeavour. Yet, some people were just intrusive, inquisitive and pried into the area of undeniably private. But Helena was always so "easygoing" and open-minded. Why wouldn't she share? What started as a series of mild inquiries grew into a drilling interrogation, trespassing on dangerous topics: connection, marriage… love.

At first, she had kept her cool, operating under the assumption that she wasn't being judged. Merely prodded for a better understanding of the nuisances. But as the conversation grew longer and her companion refused to stray from the original line of questioning, she started to suspect particular implications. Then, she did the unthinkable. She stated that she would, in fact, never get married. In her opinion, she committed a type of crime and uttered a lie, too definite at that. Actually, she didn't exclude the possibility of needing to acquire a spouse for whatever reason. Her little experiment revealed the truth: a cold, condescending glare, mouth tensing and forming a thin line. Traces of anger in the clenched jaw of her companion were a prelude to a lecture of a distinct length. A long and infuriating course on the responsibility she held towards humanity, the galaxy itself. The importance of social and communal, and the greatness of the term she oh-so-dreaded. Love.

Just like that, the dialogue was over, and it became a one-person show Hel didn't ask for. Although to be fair, she did suffer a tiny pang of regret at the provocation. She didn't even mean those words, after all. And she got a reaction, alright. The rest of the evening turned sour as the woman struggled to counter the arguments with utmost politeness and tact, challenging herself not to raise her voice over a certain level octave. Strangely, the other person, usually calm and collected, wasn't as restrained. Had the nerve to sound openly bitter and condescending. As if she was a foolish child putting the universe at risk with her stance. As if she wasn't applying herself in a proper manner.

The woman couldn't remember when she was this exhausted last. And the only thing that stopped the torture was a promise to consider the other's point of view. That, and also, she was quick. Jumped out of the chair and ran with a spring in her step as soon as she saw an opening. She was as diplomatic as she could've been in not offending her company. She was sure this discrepancy would be forgiven.

Hours later, in her private room, Hel couldn't help but take up meditating yet again. More often than not, she lacked the necessary time or was too tired and mistakenly fell asleep, succumbing to a different type of relaxation. But sleep rarely brought her peace of mind, and all be damned, she needed it. Deeply affected by the point of view of the other person, she struggled to reflect on everything that happened. She would expect all she'd heard from a fellow human, not from an alien. The sudden pain of misunderstanding, the harsh hit to her pride, the failure to accept her life choices…

'I define what my love is.' She muttered a mantra, refusing to give up. 'I define what my love is. It's not the same for everyone.' Sadly, she almost began to like the person who argued with her that day. That was why it hurt so much more.

#I wanted to title this: what is love... bby don hurt meeeh #but let's be real this is actually sad. I'd be committing a felony xD #it's actually inspired by an aro post I've seen. I didn't give it much attention.#but today it hit hard)) the thing Hel says was basically the main idea of that post #helish drabble

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libraryofloveletters · 3 years ago

Text

Just A Phase

Evan Buckley x Reader

Warnings: fem!reader, typical high school nonsense, kinda rude behaviour at first meet, mentions of weed/alcohol and the consumption of, typical cocky jock behaviour, few swear words, being tipsy/drunk

Category: fluff and a little angst

Word Count: 5.4k

Author’s Note: I just started writing and this is where I ended up so yeah also I feel like I haven’t written in a million years, forgive me if this is shitty // I referred to Buck as Evan for the first little bit because he and the reader had been introduced yet. // thank you to my darling @floralbuckleys for their help!

----

Senior Year Of High School.

Evan Buckley, certified jock and bad boy.

He was the type of guy that only had a soft spot for you, but you didn’t know that yet. Truthfully he wasn’t a mean guy - people just perceived him that way because he was on the football team and popular. He had somewhat of a troublesome reputation.

People knew where he went, trouble followed.

You, on the other hand, came from a somewhat above average family. Your mom’s a nurse and dad’s a lawyer. They always had big hopes and dreams for you, for you to go off to Harvard in the fall and follow in your father’s footsteps but you didn’t want that.

You dreamt of being a writer - you couldn't bring yourself to tell your parents that. Since you were young, they had instilled “you’re going to go to Harvard” in you.

You couldn’t back out now.

See, high school worked a certain way. You kept to your circles and didn’t mingle with those that didn’t fit into your circle. You and Evan didn’t run in the same circle - he was a troublesome jock and you were a smart preppy girl.

Being the preppy kid meant volunteering where you could to bulk up your college application hence why you were at school on a Friday afternoon, waiting for the kids to show up. You were part of some tutor program that your chemistry teacher put you into.

It was mostly just kids that needed some clarification on their work and the occasional jock that needed to pass a course to stay on the team.

You weren't surprised when a group of noisy jocks stumbled in the study hall, reeking of sweat from practice.

You were surprised to see Evan, he hadn't been in there before.

“Settle down boys” Mrs. Jacobs told them before sending each guy off to a tutor, leaving Evan standing beside her. “You can head over to y/n” she pointed at you, you gave him a small smile when you glanced up. He looked unpleasant, like he didn’t want to be there.

He made his way over nonetheless. “Good afternoon” you say quietly, unsure if he heard you. He grumbles a hello as he sits down.

The first few minutes, it was quiet. He sat there flipping through his textbook and scribbling down answers into the notebook in front of him.

“Is there anything I can help you-” “I'm not stupid.”

You glance at him, eyes catching his blue ones looking back at you. “I never said you were.”

“I'm only here because I didn’t turn in my mid term project and now stupid Mr. Jefferson thinks I don't understand this shit” he explains himself.

You hum, glancing down at the notebook in front of him, pulling it towards you. Reading over the sheet, all the answers were right. A hum of satisfaction slips pass your lips as you slide the notebook back over to him.

“Not just another dumb jock then.” your eyes study his face after the statement. His lips curl into a small smile, a hum as he turns his attention back to his paper.

“So prep life must be dull - no parties, all study.”

“Who says prep kids don't party ?”

He chuckles, “maybe the lack of prep kids at the parties.” “I’ll have you know, I party plenty, Evan.”

Once again, he chuckles. “The phrasing of that statement shows that you clearly don’t- but call me Buck, all the guys do.” he slides the notebook over to you.

“Check this over, I'll be back” you watched as he stepped out of the study hall and disappeared into the hallway.

A few minutes pass by, you’re tired and in need of a nap but you blink away the tiredness to read his work. There’s a voice behind you and then you feel something heavy on your chair. Leaning back to figure out what it was, the back of your head hit something hard. You shift in your seat and look up to see your head has hit Buck’s torso.

“How's the work, peach ?” his voice is low, the drop in octave from before causes butterflies in your stomach.

Your brows furrow at the nickname, he noticed your confusion and glances down at your top and your eyes follow his only to see that your peach colour bra was sticking out from the top of your shirt.

You had stretched back into your seat when he stepped out and you hadn't noticed the shift in your clothing.

Pulling the top of your shirt back up, he smiles and returns to his seat. You clear your throat, head down and eyes on the work in front of you as you could feel the blush on your face.

“Um, the work is fine.”

“Do you have plans tonight ?”

“No, why?”

“Come with me to Johnson’s party, you can show me how prep kids party” he smiles, his words are teasing you- taunting you even. “I would, but my parents are out of town so I don’t have the car and I have to watch the house.”

“The house won’t disappear if you’re gone for a few hours and I'll pick you up then. What’s your address ?”

“Buck, I really shouldn't”

“Y/n, come on. Pull the stick out your ass for one night and enjoy senior year. You can go back to Harvard prep tomorrow.”

His word choice doesn't shock you, it’s quite on brand for him. He’s looking at you, waiting for your answer and you can't help but give in.

Taking the pen from him, you scribble your address and number on his notebook. “See you at 7?” picking your bag up before slinging it over your shoulder.

“7? Peach, the party doesn’t start ‘till 9. I’ll pick you up at 10:30.”

“Oh um- okay.” you hum, confused but you agree anyways.

---

10:45 and you were sitting on your couch, glancing at your phone and back to the window.

You had been stood up once before but to be stood up by a jock, and a popular one ? Will be the death of any social life you had.

Finally there’s a knock on your door and you get up a little faster than you would have liked but you make your way over. Pulling it open, you met with Buck.

“Ready ?”

“Sure, let me grab my phone” you leave the door open, stepping back to the couch. Buck had disappeared from the doorway when you returned, you locked up and followed what looked like headlights to the driveway.

Buck sat on his bike, he scoots forwards a bit before patting the space behind him.

“No.” you mumble.

“What ?”

“I’m not getting on that thing.”

“That thing ? I'm offended. Come on, you’ll be fine.”

“Evan, no.”

Buck gets up, making his way over to you. His hands grab yours, looking at you now. “Y/n, I promise you that you’ll be fine. Can we go now ?”

“I’ll kill you if something happens to you” you grumbled as you reluctantly made your way over to the bike. Buck gets on first, you mirror his actions. Your hands were to your side, Buck reached back and wrapped them around his waist.

“You good back there ?”

“As good as I could be.”

The house, who you assumed belonged to Johnson’s parents, (you had no idea who Johnson was because you barely ever went to the football games) reeked of alcohol and weed.

Your face didn’t hide your displeasure as well as you thought it had. Buck chuckled as he slung his arm over your shoulder.

“So is this what you do ?” you shout over the loud music, Buck was saying hello to someone he knew and wasn't paying attention to what you had asked him.

You manage to wiggle your way out of his grip and find your way to the kitchen. It’s a few minutes later that Buck finds you sipping on a beer.

“You drink ?” he gives you a questionable look with a smile on his face.

“You brought me to a party so I'll do what people do at a party” you hum, leaning back against the counter. He finds his way to you, leaning back against the counter too.

“Enjoying the party ?”

“Not really, you kinda left me to talk to some guy for twenty minutes”

“That guy happens to be our star quarterback.”

“I care why?” you glance up at him. Buck’s face is pure amusement, you aren't sure if you’re the cause of that or something else but the way he's looking at you- you can feel the butterflies again.

“Buck!” a group of guys shout as they make their way into the kitchen. They all say hello to him, some are drinking, some are shoving chips into their mouths.

You stay quiet while Buck talks to them and judging by their varsity jackets, it was safe to assume that they were on the team with Buck.

“Who’s your friend ?” a brunette guy asks him, stepping towards you.

“I’m y/n, you are?” you ask before Buck could.

“Mike, call me Johnson.”

“Oh, so this is your place ? Cute house” you give him a smile, he laughs.

“How do you know Buck?” Johnson asks, he was nosy for a drunk guy.

“Just bumped into each other, we have class together” you lie, not sure if Buck wanted them to know how you really met, Buck gives you a small smile.

“You’re pretty, how about a dance ?” his hand grabs yours.

“Thanks but no thanks” you give a polite smile before pulling your hand away.

Johnson takes a step forward, his hand reaching out and grabbing your hip. “C’mon, dance with me” you could smell the alcohol on him- he reeked. You push his hand off, “I said no thank you” you tell him once more, being ever so polite.

“Y/n, c’mon, one dance baby” he takes another step, he’s now face to face with you. Before you could say anything, Buck is in front of you, between you and Johnson.

“Dude, she said no. Leave her alone.”

Buck’s sudden need to protect you was much appreciated. Usually if a guy did that, especially a jock, you’d be weird out because they never pay attention to you- but Buck, you had this indescribable feeling, pride, satisfaction, maybe even relief ?

“She’s not even your girl, why are you protecting her?”

“Doesn’t matter, she said no so get out of her fucking face.” Buck’s hand was against his chest, pushing him away as his other hand reached back for yours. It would be cheesy to say that your hand fit in his like it was made to be there but it was true.

Buck’s hand was still in yours as he pulled you out the back door. Your back was up against the wall as he stood in front of you.

“Are you okay ?” you could hear the concern in his voice - different from his usual tone.

At a loss for words, his eyes study your face. Johnson was a douche and he knew that, he mentally cursed himself for even bringing you here.

“Y/n.. talk to me” he takes a step towards you.

“Buck,” your hand presses against his chest, “I'm fine. It’s not the first time a drunk guy has hit on me”

A breath of relief slipped past his lips, “do you want to leave?” his face softens when he asks. “No, I'm alright.”

“Stay here, I'll be back” his hand comes down and squeezes your waist gently before he steps back into the house.

It was a while before Buck returned. He had disappeared into the house for half an hour and when he returned, you were by the pool with a pingpong ball in hand.

“Suck it!” your loud laugh filled his ears, you took a sip from the red cup in your hand and you watched as the guy across from you drank the beer in the cup that the ball landed in.

“Looks like you’re having fun” Buck smiles, now beside you.

“Hey!” you reeked of beer at this point. “I’m having fun” your words come out in a slurred mumble.

“Mhm okay, I think it’s time to head home” Buck takes the cup from you and sets it down.

“What ?” Your hand reaches for the cup again, a pout evident on your face.

Buck’s hands finds your waist, hoisting you up and over his shoulder. A louder than expected gasp left your mouth, you felt the cold breeze against your legs as he walked towards the front of the yard.

He put you down in the backseat of a car but you knew you came with his bike so you were confused, just as you go to ask, he scoots you over and gets in the back with you. Buck’s arm is over your shoulder, you’re so tired that you just lean into him.

You had noticed you fell asleep and when you woke, you were on the porch swing at your house with Buck’s hand in your pocket.

“Whatcha looking for?” he glances up at you when he hears your voice.

“Keys.”

“Other pocket”

He manages to find the keys and get the door open. Getting you in the house was another story. “Y/n, come on” he pulls your hands in an attempt to get you up but you weren’t budging.

What happened to you being a prep kid and not drinking ? He didn’t even think it was possible to get drunk that fast.

“No, tired” you mumbles, making yourself comfortable on the porch swing. “Do you want your parents to come home and find you here? I’m cool with leaving you here if that’s the case” Buck teased, he had no idea when your parents were coming home.

The mention of your parents finding you outside, drunk, horrified you. You got up so quick, you nearly toppled over. Buck helped you inside and onto the couch. He disappeared for a moment and then returned with a glass of water.

“Small sips” he settles beside you, watching as you take a sip. You hum, resting your head on his shoulder as his arm comes over your shoulder.

“Buck?”

“Yeah?”

He felt your head shift, now looking up at him, eyes full of sleep. You were studying his face, from the birthmark above his eye to his pink lips.

“I really like you, you know” your words filled with sleep as your eyes drooped, you blinked a few times, forcing yourself to stay awake.

Buck chuckles, “that’ll pass peach, I’m just a phase.” He hummed quietly, fingers running through your hair as you drift to sleep.

The Monday after the party, you saw Buck in the hallway after waking up to an empty house on the couch, head pounding even in the deafening silence and and you can’t quite remember how you got home.

Buck had been radio silence since then but you weren't sure why. He was walking in from the front doors and you were by your locker. You turn to speak to him but he barely glances at you before continuing his conversation with Johnson.

From that day, you never spoke to Buck again. Last you saw him was graduation day and last you had heard was that he was in college and you were headed off to Harvard.

----

Present.

You had become a big shot lawyer, everything your parents wanted. Moved out to LA to start your own firm and everything was going well until this morning.

You had barely walked into the office when the fire alarm went off. The sudden alarm caused an onset of commotion in the office, the woman next to you bumped into you, spilling your hot cup of coffee onto you.

She mumbled a sorry as she passed but you could feel the heat coming from where the liquid had spilt. Nonetheless, you made your way out, the sound of the sirens from fire trucks blaring.

Not that you didn’t enjoy seeing the handsome firefighters (or so your co-workers seem to say) but you had a ton of paperwork to do for an upcoming case you had and you barely started.

You stood by the curb, watching as the firefighters made their way over to the crowd and into the building to clear it.

“Ma'am ?” A firefighter made his way over to you, there was a helmet in his hand as he passed a hand through his hair. You glance up from your phone, to see what he wanted.

“May I take a look?” his eyes shifted to your chest where there is currently a coffee stain on your white shirt. “Oh, thank you but no. I’m fine”

“Are you sure? Because that’ll leave a pretty nasty mark if you don't get it cleaned. If you aren’t comfortable, we have a female medic” he offered, hoping you’d consider.

“You’re a medic ?” you asked, looking him up and down. He nods, taking a step back. He begins walking back to the ambulance and you follow him. “Do you want me to get her?”

“No, you’re a professional, it’s cool” you give him a small smile before moving your shirt so he could check.

The firefighter’s hand was now right under your collarbone, dabbing at your skin with some gauze. His fingers were cold, you weren’t sure if it was actually his fingers or the gloves that were cold but either way you looked at him.

“What’s your name ?”

“Diaz, Eddie Diaz” he tells you, flashing you a smile before going back to his job.

You hum, staying still as Eddie rubs something on your skin.

That’s when you saw him.

The same blue eyes, the same blonde hair, the same gorgeous smile that always played in your mind. Not a day went by that you didn’t think of him. You had always wondered what he ended up doing, he was smart and destined for great things, there was more for him than a small life in a place where no one ever really did anything.

Every guy you had dated, you compared to him. It was always something- they didn’t look like him, they didn’t act like him, they didn’t treat you the way he did, they wouldn't stand up for you like he did.

He lived rent free in your mind.

“Ma'am?” Eddie’s voice broke your gaze. “Y/n,” you corrected him, “ma’am is for old women” your eyes going back to Buck. Eddie noticed your lack of attention and followed your gaze.

“Do you know Buck?”

“He still lets people call him that ?” you chuckle to yourself, feeling Eddie’s eyes burning a hole into you.

Before you could answer, his radio buzzed before a voice came through, “building’s clear. Start directing people back in.” Eddie looks over at you, you’re already getting out of the ambulance.

“Keep that clean and dry” were his last words to you after you left.

---

It wasn’t until you were back in the building that you realized your phone was in the ambulance.

You were majorly screwed.

Remembering the medic’s name which was the only thing you remember mids the confusion and seeing Buck after 10+ years. You asked around the office if anyone knew what station responded to the call. You had contacts that worked for the city but the lack of phone made it hard for you to call and find out.

Finally giving in, you google the medic’s name. There were a few articles that had photos but none of them said anything that helped. There was a video from Taylor Kelly at channel 8 news, some sort of video about the fire station.

Station 118- that was 10 minutes down the road and you pass it everyday on the way to work. The thoughts began filling your head, had Buck been there all along?

12 years- 12 long, empty years that you acted like he didn’t exist and that you didn’t want to know what happened between you two but he was right down the road.

You didn’t even know if you wanted to talk to him. You had finally come to peace with it even though a part of you will always long for what could have been. Feelings aside, you set out to the station to get your phone.

Upon arriving, there were a few guys by the trucks. You asked for Eddie, assuming that he might have an idea of where your phone ended up or if they even found it.

“Up the stairs and he should be somewhere up there” the guy pointed, you thanked him before heading towards the stairs. When you got upstairs, it was empty.

You weren't sure if you should go back down or wait so you sort of awkwardly stood there, glancing around the room. The station was nicer than you had imagined it to be, not that you really had an idea of what to expect.

Your back was to the kitchen when someone tapped your shoulder. “Can I help you?” his voice called out as you turned.

Buck.

You let out a breath, your eyes studying his perfect face for a moment. Do you say something or just pretend like you didn’t know him?

“Yeah, I'm uh- I'm looking for Eddie. I think I left my phone in the ambulance.”

“Do I know you from somewhere ?”

“I work at the building down the road, 14th street. You guys were there earlier, hence the phone in the ambulance” you tell him, hoping he drops the topic.

“Y/n! Hey! What are you doing here?” You see Eddie call from behind Buck.

Thank god.

“I left my phone in the ambulance. I figured you’d know what happened to it” you’ve stepped past Buck and towards Eddie now. “I haven’t seen it, but maybe it’s still in there. Come with me, we can check for it”

Eddie was making his way down the stairs and you were behind him when Buck called your name.

Not y/n.

Peach.

You paused, taking a deep breath in before turning to face him. “I thought I remembered you from somewhere” he smiled, him and his stupid smile.

“I’m in a rush, Evan. Plus, I'm not in the mood to reminisce.”

The smile dropped from his face, the guilt crept up on you. The feeling of your stomach twisting, sighing before making your way down to Eddie who was by the ambulance, your phone in hand.

“There’s more to the story than I thought,” Eddie hands the phone over, you give him a hum and thank him. “Let me walk you out.” he follows you out to your car.

“You know, whatever he did- he’s changed. He’s a good guy.” Eddie says, his voice sincere.

“I know, I just- I don't know”

“What did he do? If I can ask”

“We were- I don't know what we were. We hung out in high school, just once but he was different from the other guys. He genuinely cared. We went to a party together and he brought me home after. I remember falling asleep with him in the house and the next morning he was gone. Total radio silence that whole weekend and when I saw him at school the following week, he acted like he didn’t know me - it was like that for the rest of senior year. We never spoke after that.”

Here you were pouring your heart out to a firefighter who you had only met an hour ago who also had seen your bare chest (in a professional way, of course) on a Tuesday morning in the parking lot.

“Wow- I can see why you wouldn’t want to talk to him.”

“Yeah, thank you for the phone though. I gotta get back to work”

“Wait, let me get your number”

You pause, looking at him with furrowed brows. He seemed confused then he realized how that sounded. “Oh god- no not like that, sorry. I meant maybe we could grab a drink sometimes, as friends and maybe you could tell me more about high school Buck ?”

“Um- yes to the number and drinks but I don’t know about Buck” you hand the phone back over to him, telling him that you’d text him.

---

It was a while before you heard from Eddie, he said he was off on Saturday if you were up for drinks and weren't busy. The whole team was going out but he invited you along to join them.

After some back and forth “I couldn't intrude” and “you won’t be, come join us” you finally gave in.

Now it’s 9pm and you, Eddie and Buck are sitting at a booth. Coincidentally, everyone else was busy. Chimney and Hen who you hadn’t met yet, were with their significant others and kids. So that left the 3 of you together.

You wanted to walk back out when you saw it was only the two of them but Eddie had seen you and called you over. His phone buzzed just as Buck came back with drinks.

“Everything okay?” Buck asked his friend, Eddie, still typing away on his phone. “Huh? Yeah, it’s Carla. Chris is running a fever” you could hear the concern in his voice.

“Chris is your son?”

“Yeah- I'm sorry I got to go. I’ll make it up to you. Drinks on me another night” Eddie gave your shoulder a squeeze as he stood.

“No yeah, of course. Go, it’s fine” you smiled.

“Let me know if you need anything” Buck shifts towards Eddie, the two of them seem to have some sort of routine or way of how things work between them.

And now there were two.

Buck sipped on his beer, you sat across from him, your nails tapping against the bottle in front of you. He was the first one to speak.

“So, how have you been?”

“Good. You?”

“Good too. I don’t know if you remember my sister but she had a baby recently so I've been hanging out with her after work”

“Oh, that’s nice. Maddie right?”

“Yeah, she had a little girl. She’s the cutest little girl ever.” Buck pulls his phone out, showing you a photo of him holding a baby in a blanket with a brunette beside him. The woman beside him, Maddie you assumed, was smiling at Buck, fixing the blanket while he looked at the camera, the joy evident on his face.

“She’s adorable and your sister looks the same, she hasn’t aged a day” you hum, passing the phone over to him.

Back to awkward silence.

“What happened to us?” Buck’s question catches you off guard.

“What happened to us? You happened.”

“What? I thought we were friends.” Your eyes met, his full of confusion and yours with displeasure.

“Friends don’t disappear in the middle of the night with no explanation and ignore them for the rest of senior year.” You get up, grab your phone and make your way to the door. Buck’s calling out to you but you don’t want to stop and talk to him.

The night was cold, the wind hit your bare shoulders and you shivered for a moment before walking. Buck was still calling out your name, he had followed you out the bar.

“Y/n! Stop! Y/n, c’mon. Please!” His hand wrapped around your wrist, holding you in place. You pull your hand back.

“No! You don’t get to do that. Act like everything is fine when you disappeared with no explanation. I know we weren’t best friends but I thought we were at least friends. That fucking hurt, Evan.”

“Fine,” he sighs, looking at you. “You want the truth ?” Your brows raised, waiting for him to continue.

“You told me you liked me. You were a good kid, going to Harvard, which you obviously did” gesturing at you, he continued. “I didn’t know what I wanted and I didn’t want you to feel like you needed to be by my side until I figured it out. I knew you would resent me for that and I couldn’t do that to you, I couldn’t do it to myself.”

“That’s selfish. It’s about you ? That’s why you left with no explanation ? You couldn’t do it to yourself ? Man the fuck up Buck, life isn’t about you.”

“You think I don’t know that ?! You think I didn’t think about you all the time? That I didn’t miss you?”

“Don’t start with that shit. You knew where I would be. You said it yourself, I was “a good kid, going to Harvard” so if you really missed me, you could have found me.”

“Y/n, be real. We were just out of high school, what means did I have to go searching for you? I had my own shit to deal with.”

“Just stop, I don’t even want to know.”

“No, you stop”

“No you.”

“Y/n” his voice was stern, the annoyance clearly there.

“Evan.” your tone matched his.

That stupid smug smile of his was on his face, that was enough to make you roll your eyes. “’Kay, I'm over your shit.” turning away from him, you go to walk away but his hand grabs yours.

Still fit like it was made to be there.

Before you could register what was happening, Buck’s lips were on yours. Maybe time stopped when Buck’s lips met yours but your heart didn’t- it felt like it was beating a million times seconds and the butterflies in your stomach were restless.

It wasn't clear to either of you at the moment that it had started pouring rain but it didn’t matter. There was this raw emotion in the way his hands felt on your waist or how his chest was pressed to yours.

Buck would be lying if he said he didn’t open his eyes slightly, sneaking a guilty peek at you just to make sure you weren’t a fiction of his imagination. Every breath he took smelt of lavender and honey, the same scent that had lingered on his mind since the day he met you. His arms wrapped around you, pulling you closer to him, if that was even possible.

Maybe this was meant to be, fate bringing back what was meant for him to him or maybe this really was all a fabrication of his imagination but he wanted to live in his moment forever.

It wasn't until thunder rumbled that he pulled away. The rain had soaked your clothes and hair, your makeup had smudged and half of your lipstick was on Buck.

The same stupid smug smile on his face.

“God,” rolling your eyes at him. “You’re so annoying.” wiping your lips with the back on your hand, hoping that you got all the lipstick off.

“Yeah, I'm the annoying one” Buck’s face twisted, giving you a playful shove as you stepped towards him. Your thumb comes up to wipe the lipstick off him. Buck’s arm lifts, now over your shoulder.

The two of you looked at each other as you made your way down the street.

“Just a phase huh ?” you hum, glancing at Buck.

The blonde let out a chuckle, “maybe not.”

---

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folkloreguk · 3 years ago

Text

French Class [2]

A/N: I hope you all enjoy this part! I’m excited to put out more parts soon!

genre: optional bias (m) x reader (f), smut, oral (f receiving), car sex, dirty talk, college!au, nerd!reader, fuckboy!bias

words: 4.4 k

✽series masterlist✽

taglist (lmk if u wanna be added!): @lovely-ateez

“And then he asked me if I would wear his tie around my neck while he- Hello? Earth to Y/N? Are you there?” Your roommate, Chohee, waved her hand in front of your face from across the table. You had occupied the seats in the back of the Chinese restaurant, in a niche where you were mostly hidden from other customers. Turns out, for all the spicy stories she had in store – as always – that had been a great idea.

“I swear your thoughts have been all over the place lately. Are you sure you have nothing to talk about?” She twirled a strand of her dyed pink hair around her fingers while she mustered you suspiciously.

“I’m sorry, I zoned out. It’s nothing, I’m just tired. I’ve been studying day and night. Looks like you’re the only one with the stories today. Just start again from the part where he got the whipped cream from the fridge,” you said.

“We went over that part five minutes ago! Have you paid any attention?” Chohee shook her head with a grin. Then she began her bedroom-adventure story from the beginning, because she knew as well as you, she loved talking about it.

Truth was, you had one hell of a story to tell. And no, you had not been paying attention. Not because you were tired. Not because you had studying on your mind. But because one hundred percent of your focus was currently directed at the boy only a few tables from yours. You only saw the back of his head, but there was no doubt about his identity. The mop of hair was unmistakable. Plus, he was in his famous black leather jacket. There was no mistaking this piece of clothing. It was decorated with white splatters of acrylic paint and had his name written messily across the top of his back. You could just about make out the tips of the letters as he leaned back comfortably, legs spread on his chair, chatting to his friend.

Chohee had no idea about the grip the person behind her had on you. She was your closest friend, and yet you hadn’t broken the news to her: You were hooking up (and not just once) with the so-called “hottest guy on campus”. AT least those had been her words when she had first told you about him. Lately you had to admit, you were starting to agree. It wasn’t like you wanted to keep secrets from her. In fact, on many occasions you had almost crumbled and told her the full story. Had she not been such a chatterbox, and did she not love gossiping as much as she did, you swore she would already know about your little arrangement with him.

She was aware of this much: You and him were casual friends. Study buddies, one would say. You had subtly passed over the little details of your friendship. How grocery store visits sometimes turned into visits to his dorm because of a simple text of his, or how you had sneaked out on more than one occasion in the middle of the night because he had told you his dormmates weren’t home. It wasn’t weird to Chohee that you brushed over the particularities of your “one-night-stands” when you returned in the mornings. You had never been as big on sharing as she was.

Maybe you wanted to keep things to yourself out of fear what people would say, too. You couldn’t care less whether people knew you were sleeping around. But everyone knew him, or so it seemed. Girls wanted him. Boys wanted to be him. All you desired was his friendship and some fun. You had no interest in being known on campus or having people you’ve never met giving you the side-eye over having sex with an oh-so-special boy. One day you would tell Chohee all about it. You weren’t technically lying. Just not sharing the entire story.

“Remember how I said H/N was the hottest guy ever?” Chohee suddenly said. The sound of his name made your head snap back to reality.

“Oh, now you’re listening, I see. All it takes is for me to mention your new bestie,” she teased. “You shouldn’t get too attached to him. I have a feeling that girls are interchangeable to him, either way. Anyway, I’ve decided I find his friend Korain much more attractive, since I’ve been hooking up with him.”

Would it be weird to correct her? To promise her, when you had more time and weren’t so distracted, you would lay the truth on her? He isn’t like that at all, you wanted to say. Yes, he liked female attention. But that didn’t make him a bad guy. Would it sound crazed to explain how he knew how you took your coffee, and how he sent you pictures of your favorite animals before your exams to take some of the nerves away? Or how he reported that it took him exactly 1,012 steps to get to your dorm from his place? Multiple times you had tried to count the distance yourself, but you never seemed to have enough focus to make it. Something always caught you off guard. You had doubted his credibility, but he swore he wasn’t bluffing.

Speaking of his friend Korain – who was at this very Chinese restaurant with H/N – he was suddenly making eye contact with you. Before you could slide lower into your seat like a frightened animal, he had grinned at you. Oh no. Prompted by his friend’s smile in your direction, H/N now turned his head. You were thankful Chohee was still deep in her explanation on why she had changed her opinions on the two very boys only a few tables away. If only she knew.

H/N’s eyes caught yours and a smirk plastered on his face. You assumed the tiny smile you sent him would do, but no. The two young men had collected their things and were getting ready to leave. The exit was the opposite direction, and yet H/N took the long way there. His stride was that of a model as he approached your table.

“Y/N,” he said, voice sweet like sugar candy and his smile charming like famous artwork. “You wanna hang at the library later?”

Chohee was now eyeing him as if she was your bodyguard and he was an obsessed fan who had crossed into your personal space. All you could think of was how you wanted him as your dessert. Now. But you had an exam coming up in a few days. So, his invitation fit just right.

“I’ll be there.” You smiled politely. He gave you a raised eyebrow, but then nodded, said goodbye, spun around and followed his friend out of the restaurant. When you looked at Chohee, she was already giving you eyes that asked a billion questions at once. Fantastic. Now you’d have to explain that “hang at the library” was not some sort of codeword for sex, but you had – against all odds – convinced the local prince of fuckboys that studying wasn’t such an atrocious idea after all. But fate saved you before you could begin your clarification.

“Oh no! Where has the time gone? I have to get to my afternoon lecture!” Chohee exclaimed, quickly gathering her purse and jacket. “My professor will curse me if I’m late again!”

And with that, she scrambled up from the table. “Don’t think you’re getting off easy just because I have to go! I demand a good story when I get home!”

You knew she was just being dramatic, and should you decide to keep everything to yourself for another month, she wouldn’t be mad. And yet, the urge to tell her crept up on you as you watched her hurry out of the door while waving one last time. Your morning classes had been the only appointment in your calendar for the day. So, with nothing else to do, you fished for your phone to message him for a time to meet at the library.

“What were you being so weird for earlier?” he asked as he plopped down on the wooden chair across from you. His books slammed on the table, and you flinched a little. Boys.

“Thanks for reminding me why I chose to sit in the group project area today. Could you be any louder in a library?” you said. “And thank god we’re the only ones here.”

“Thanks for reminding me that you’re still great at avoiding questions,” he returned.

“I just didn’t want my friend to ask questions.”

“So you talked to me like a five year old would respond to their kindergarten teacher? Are you embarrassed to be seen with me? The guy with the reputation?”

“No, I’m not. Wait? What? And what kind of reputation would that be, if I may ask? The you-only-sleep-with-a-girl-once-reputation?”

“You should know the nastiest rumors mostly prove to be false. I was thinking of something more delightful. Like a gives-the-best-head-on-campus-kind of reputation.”

You snorted. “And who is going to do the research to prove that?”

“Why don’t you look around and report back to me?” he smirked.

“No thanks. I’m already hooking up with a guy who’s more than a handful.”

He faked taking offence in your words with a theatrical gasp. “Is that so? The girl I’m hooking up with isn’t much better. Always asks to hang at the library like she doesn’t beg me to fuck her the second we get out of there.”

“Let me remind you that you were the one who suggested this place today,” you said. “I was ready to jump into your bed and you had to stall time like this.”

“Are you for real? What are we still doing here, then?” he asked, and you tilted your head with a suggestive grin that mirrored his.

15 minutes later:

“Who the fuck stores five umbrellas in their car?” You kicked another one off the backseat you were lying on. Your bra was exposed beneath your shirt which he had pushed up on your chest and was now attacking the exposed skin with hungry kisses.

“That’s what you get for not getting it on in the library,” he muttered against your skin without looking up.

“We’d be asking to get suspended from there by doing that,” you said. “And I cherish my library very much.”

He only made a snickering noise and shook his head before he went to take off his shirt – and promptly hit his head on the car roof. “Ow! This sucks. I can barely move.”

“That’s what you get for not waiting until we’re at your place,” you teased him with his own words. But judging by the prominent bulge in his pants, you supposed you didn’t want him driving anywhere. Not with naughty things on his mind, and with you next to him to only make him hornier. Your eyes fell on the dark purple spots on his abdomen, and you grinned.

“Wow. Someone must have worked hard to make that stomach even prettier,” you said.

“Yeah, you would know all about that, wouldn’t you?” He bent down to your ear and his husky tone sent cold shivers up your spine. Of course, you knew. You were the one who bit and sucked the hickeys into his skin two days ago, after all. His hands palming your boobs through your bra drew out a desperate sigh from you.

“Let’s play a game. What do you say?” he asked.

“What kind of game would that be?” Your interest was roused. He was lost in thought for a moment, hands slowly running up and down your exposed legs. Luckily, you had opted for a skirt today. All he’d had to do was to push it up to your belly and get rid of your underwear after your short but very steamy make-out session on the backseat. The cool air on your exposed core was only magnifying your impatience.

“Whoever comes first, loses.” You couldn’t suppress a chuckle at his idea, and he eyed you with indignation. “You don’t like it?”

“Everyone knows women take longer to orgasm than men do,” you said. “Are you trying to dig your own grave or what?”

“That’s why I’ll have a head start,” he announced. His hands circled the skin close to your core, creeping up your thighs slowly.

“And what’s the prize for winning?”

“The loser owes the winner a favor.”

“Too vague. I don’t trust you with that.”

“I don’t trust you, she says as she waits for me to fuck her in my car,” he mocked.

“I don’t trust your crazy ideas,” you clarified. “What about this? The winner pays for the loser’s next meal when we eat together.”

“Deal.” He slid his fingers over your pussy, and you crumbled into a whining mess within seconds. No matter how much your head denied it, he really was the best. He caught your clit between his digits and your eyes rolled to the back of your head for a moment.

“Shit, you only turn me on more if you’re going to moan like that.” He lowered his head and spit on your center, and the laughter that had been bubbling in your throat died in an instant. His fingers rubbed your nub fast and spread his saliva – without doubt his attempt at tipping you closer to the edge before he had even begun to fuck you.

“Too bad you find me so hot,” you said, and let out a purposely dramatic whimper, followed by his name in your best fake-porn-voice. His smile had something wholesome, as if he was admiring his friend making silly jokes, but also a glint of playfulness. You knew had been a mask when he bit his lip and exhaled slowly. With ease, he slid his middle finger into you. As he curled it against your sweet spot, he bent down to suck on your clit and your back arched at the sudden pleasure.

“Too bad you’re going to lose,” he said, and then continued his antics. Had he continued this way for another few minutes, his words wouldn’t have been so far from the truth. But you had other plans.

“Are you going to fuck me now?” you asked. “That’s enough of your head start.”

“I only just tasted you. Why would it be called a head start, if you’re going to stop me two minutes into giving you head?” he asked and you would’ve slapped his shoulder, had he been close enough. Instead, you closed your eyes for a few seconds. He was the competitive one here, and you didn’t mind enjoying yourself for now. Sighing in temporary defeat, your head fell back onto the seat. The sun was shining its last rays through the car window. They caught in his curled eyelashes and on his skin, coloring him golden.

“That’s a good girl,” he said, arm snaking around your thigh. He held on to you, but it wasn’t as if you could have moved away from him. Your head was right by the car door. His lips around your clit paired with his finger steadily rubbing against your sweet spot inside of you made you feel like floating. His free hand touched your leg gently, caressing your skin as if he wasn’t also simultaneously pushing you to the urge to yell out his name in pleasure. You tangled your fingers in his soft hair, as if you needed to do so to keep him in place. But something in the back of your mind still had a desire for winning. Trying to collect the last bits of your dwindling sanity, you hatched a plan. Good on you – you knew just what rode him into madness.

“I- I need you to fuck me, please,” you begged, making sure to add an extra layer of tragedy to your voice. “Please, I want it so bad.”

He looked up at you, a dark glint in his eyes. Of course, he did. All was going according to plan. It wasn’t like you had known him all your life, but you were perfectly aware of one thing. He could never resist your dirty talking and begging.

“Please?” you bat your eyelashes ever so longingly at him.

“Is that so?” He was now straightening up. His black pupils were dilated, and he was looking at you with the expectation of a loyal puppy waiting for his treat. You grabbed the front hem of his pants and pulled him towards you. In a moment, you had unzipped the material for him.

“I want you to fuck me like you did the first time we met. At the party,” you said. “Do you ever think about it, too?”

“Fuck, of course I do,” he said. Faster than you could register, he was ripping a condom wrapper and sliding it onto his free length. His cock stood angry and hard against his stomach. Perhaps your dramatic words weren’t so far-fetched. You couldn’t wait for him.

“Then do it, please,” you said. “Right now, this pussy is all yours. Use it the way it should be used.”

He muttered a swear under his breath and you knew he was in the palm of your hand. His hot breath fanned your neck as he bent over you, cock aligned with your exposed core. For a moment his length slid through your wetness, and he groaned at the warmth that was about to engulf him.

“I’m so fucking wet,” you moaned. “And all for you.”

You would have been lying if you said you weren’t enjoying the exaggerated show you were putting on for him as much as he did. Although, you weren’t sure whether you were allowed to call it exaggeration, at all. Your walls clenched around nothing as the tip of his cock touched your juices and he eyed you like he could’ve eaten you up right then and there.

When he finally entered you, he instantly sighed. His eyes were shut tightly as he dealt with the impact of feeling you around his shaft. A small spark of triumph went through you. That was, until he pushed your legs up and snapped his hips against yours. A sharp, sudden burst of pleasure shot through you and the coil in your stomach tightened all at once. You suspected your plan was backfiring slightly. Your words not only appealed to him and his famished mind and body. They also got to your head, and there you were, barely able to contain yourself under a load of blind hunger.

“You want me to fuck you senseless, huh?” he asked. His words went straight to your core. Nonetheless, you had a goal to work towards and you weren’t set on giving up.

“Yes, oh my god,” you whimpered. “That’s all I’m asking for. Please, I know you can. You always fuck me so well.”

In response, he rammed his body into yours so abruptly, you gave off a noise of surprise and pleasure at the same time. He bent his upper body over yours to support himself. His hands lay flat on the seat on both sides of your head. His thrusts made your legs shake now and then, when his cock hit that one spot inside of you. It was causing you to see entire galaxies on the inside of your eyelids. When you blinked up at him, the sun had disappeared beyond the horizon. Darkness had always suit him better than the golden sunset, either way. The muscles in his arms flexed and his eyebrows furrowed, and for a moment you called victory yours. But you couldn’t be sure for longer than a moment.

Because from one second to another he straightened up and slowed his thrusts. The gradualness had something equally as striking. He dragged his cock through your scarlet walls and his fingers found your clit. You drew out a ragged breath and cursed him for regaining the upper hand. Yet, you quickly abandoned the thought of defeat. When you allowed yourself to feel the pleasure, every last thought vanished at last. You moaned and whimpered helplessly. Without overthinking, you wrapped your hand around his wrist. He shot you a confused smirk.

“Too much, baby?” he said. “Think you won’t be able to handle it? A shame. It would really be too bad if you lost. You were doing so well up to now.”

You swallowed, hard. His patronizing voice tugged at your nerves and yet you loved when he spoke to you this way during sex. And he was aware of it – hence his knowing grin.

“Don’t stop moving,” you asked him to keep up his thrusts. “It’s not fair, otherwise.”

“Oh no. I would never dare break the rules,” he said.

He did as you said, and it only made things more mind-consuming for you. You were again reminded of the small tornado raging in the pit of your belly, threatening to consume you all over. It was only a matter of time. But what he could do, you could do better.

“Do you like fucking me in my skirt?” you taunted him, blinking ever so sweetly. Your eyes were dripping honey as you put on your most innocent gaze. “Am I pretty like this?”

“You’re the prettiest,” he muttered, biting his lip as if he was stopping a thousand moans from spilling out. “So. Fucking. Hot.”

“If I wear this skirt to class tomorrow, and you see me in the halls, will you think of this moment?” you asked. His fingers on your clit were shaky and moving unevenly. You might have been digging your own grave along with his. You didn’t care. Too many lectures you had wasted, barely able to concentrate because of the boy on top of you.

“Definitely. You weren’t wearing that earlier, at the restaurant,” he said. You wondered how many people had ever seen him this way – utterly breathless, all his cool vaporizing at once.

“Good observation,” you said, but you were struggling with your words as much as he was unable to keep calm. What was meant to sound lazy and seductive had morphed into a whimper and small sighs. “I wasn’t. I- I put it on just for you.”

He cursed again and abandoned all his remaining self-control. His grip on you was iron-tight and you clenched your fists. Oh, how you wished you could have buried your head into a pillow, or better even, the crook of a neck. Instead, you moaned his name almost soundlessly and searched for his dark eyes.

“Say my name again,” he demanded, like it was his last request on earth. So, you obeyed, only because you would have done anything for him right now, if it meant that he would keep fucking you that way.

“Oh my- my god,” you moaned. “Please don’t stop, fuck-“

“You look so hot right now, baby,” he groaned. “Shit- I could come just looking at you.”

“Then do it,” you said. Challengingly, you both smirked at each other. It lasted only the blink of an eye. You felt your insides twist before you could have prevented it. And all of a sudden, you crashed. Your intense orgasm erupted, and it took you several seconds to realize it, but then you heard it. His high-pitched moans, quiet and curse-stricken, could only mean one thing. You weren’t the only one, and therefore not the first to reach your high. A content smile spread on your face as his messy thrusts went on for a short while and you bathed in the remaining moments of bliss.

Silence set in as you both kept still to catch your breaths. You worried he would pin the loss on you, nonetheless, and inwardly braced yourself for his accusations. But to your surprise, he only laughed and collapsed on top of you. His breath tickled your neck slightly.

“We’ll be splitting the bill, I suppose?” he said. He straightened up to look you in the eyes playfully.

“Looks like it,” you said. You guessed his fighting spirit had been appeased and his energy had been spent on better things than arguing with you. You never minded it.

“Did you have a nice study session? Does the library lady assume you’re homeless and actually living there, yet?” Chohee teased as you entered your shared kitchen. She was typing on her phone but looked up when you only laughed.

“Is that a hickey?” she asked, and you knew you were done for. “What exactly is it you were studying? H/N’s body?”

“I guess I should tell you. Sooner or later, you’ll know,” you relented.

“Tell me what? Oh my god. Are you guys dating? Are you dating H/N?”

“No! You know I have no time for a boyfriend,” you said. “But…we’ve been hooking up.”

“Damn girl,” she said. “What do you have on him that he keeps coming back?”

“Excuse me? Am I really that boring of a company?”

“No. You’re the best company I could ever ask for, obviously,” she said, smiling at you. “But you remember his reputation. He sleeps with the same girl only once.”

“It’s just a stupid rumor,” you said. “Besides, we’re not just hooking up. He’s my friend. You already knew that.”

“Friend, huh?” Chohee asked. “Alright. So, you’re telling me he can hang out with you without trying to get it on?”

“He can, actually. And let me tell you, he’s cool. And pretty funny, too,” you said. She raised her eyebrows at you. “We’ve set some rules. We hook up, but also hang out as friends. Neither is allowed to be upset when the other turns down sex. We can both hook up with anyone else, still. No jealousy, no attachments. Just a good time.”

“Alright,” Chohee nodded. “If you’re so close, do you think you could introduce me to some of his friends sometime?”

You laughed, nodding. Chohee and H/N had quite some things in common, you realized then. Maybe that’s why you liked the two of them so much.

“Let’s see how long that lasts, then. Don’t wrap him too tightly around your finger, or he might trip and fall,” she winked. It was your turn to raise your eyebrow. Whatever she might have been insinuating – you had zero plans of making it reality. (Yet.)

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robininthelabyrinth · 3 years ago

Note

Imagine if Meng Shi begged and bargained and collected favors till she was able to send her A-Yao to education with the Lan Sect, perhaps even become a cultivator with them. Would he take that change? Would he become a rogue cultivator? Would the strict rules help curb his inner muderimpuls or enrage him or teach him to hide better?

A Good Fit - ao3

“The…Lan sect?” Meng Yao said doubtfully. “Are you sure?”

“I am sure,” his mother said, her mouth tight. She looked upset, the way she always did these days when he referenced, intentionally or otherwise, the original plan that she had had to send him to join his father, sect leader of Lanling Jin. She’d raised Meng Yao on a steady diet of stories of what his life would be like when his father finally took him back the way he’d promised her he would, stories that had filled his days and nights for years and years and years, and then just last year she’d suddenly stopped talking about it entirely. It was as if the person who’d told those stories had nothing to do with her.

Meng Yao didn’t know what had happened, but he assumed it must have been pretty bad.

“It'll be a good fit,” she added.

“Then I’ll go to the Lan sect,” he said, and pretended not see the way his mother relaxed a little, relieved that he wasn’t asking too many questions. “I’ve heard they are gentlemen there, righteous but gentle; it will be the best match for my personality, I’m sure.”

A lie, of course. ‘Gentlemen’ were just as likely to come to the brothel as brutes, and they were all the same once they had a cup of wine and a beauty in their arms – Meng Yao tried not to have any illusions.

“Can we afford it?” he asked instead, since that was something he was sure his mother would have thought of, would have expected him to ask. “Gusu is so far away…”

“I have obtained a letter from the local sect recommending you to their sect leader, Lan Qiren,” she said. “He’s the one that teaches the classes – the one that sent out the summons asking the subsidiary sects to look for individuals with raw talent to join his classes and offering them an extra seat for their sects for each nameless orphan they find that lives up to Lan sect standards. Only the Heavens know why he’s doing something like that…I assume they’re trying to expand.”

That seemed like the most reasonable explanation. Meng Yao nodded. “So I’ll be traveling with the local sect?”

“That’s right,” his mother said, and raised her chin a little. “At least this much, your mother was able to do for you.”

She’d begged and bargained and traded favors for it, then, Meng Yao thought, and yet taking him along was to their own benefit: if they were looking for inherited cultivation talent sufficient for the Lan sect, then the bastard son of another Great Sect leader would be a better bet than some random nobody. She’d probably humiliated herself for nothing.

“Will you come with me?” he asked, more concerned with that – it was too easy for women of ill repute to disappear into the depths of the city if they didn’t have someone to watch out for them.

Even someone as young as he was. He wished he was older.

“You can come back to visit me during the Spring Festival,” she said, which meant no. “I’ll be all right, A-Yao.”

Meng Yao wasn’t so sure.

Still, not having him around would at least remove a visible reminder of his mother’s age – she’d been kicked out of the better brothels because of him, because no one wanted a woman who was a mother. Leaving would at least do that for her.

“I’ll write,” he finally said. “I’ll write as often as they let me.”

“And I’ll write back,” she promised him, kissing his cheek. “I promise.”

With that, Meng Yao supposed he had to be satisfied.

The Lan sect was both exactly like what Meng Yao expected and absolutely nothing at all like anything he could have dreamt.

For the first, his cynicism was almost immediately confirmed: the boys raised there were snobby as anything, looking down at the rest of them as little better than barbarians, and many of the adults were the same way. It was clear that this whole business of recruiting talented nobodies was a project of the sect leader’s – the interim sect leader, no less, not even the real thing – and nobody else’s; they were only just barely going along with it. Adding to that the fact that there were dozens if not hundreds of rules, and Meng Yao could glumly foresee a future of having his lack of knowledge held over his head as a fault, even with his marvelous memory to act as his backing.

For the second…

Well, there was Lan Xichen, who was – as unbelievable as it seemed – to actually embody all those things that people said about gentlemen, all kindness and gentleness and fierce upright pride, except only for real. There was Lan Wangji, who was basically perfect in every way and kinder than he gave the impression he was, willing to help tutor anyone who asked if only they dared disturb his solitude long enough to do so. There was the boy Meng Yao shared a room with, Su She, who’d punched the boy from the Yunping cultivator clan in the mouth for calling Meng Yao a son of a whore and pretended it was because they weren’t allowed to talk about that sort of thing, when actually it’d been because he hadn’t wanted rumors to get around that might make Meng Yao’s life harder in the future.

There was Lan Qiren, who was strict and a little boring but fair, painfully fair, handing out punishments with an equitable hand no matter that it meant that he was punishing the locals as often if not more often. It’d been his idea to bring people like Meng Yao into the Lan sect, and defending the idea was the only time he truly seemed moved to passion. Now that they’d passed the initial examination and been judged to match Lan sect standards, Lan Qiren announced, as far as he was concerned, they were Lan sect just as if they were born there, as if they’d been children of his own.

And he even seemed to really believe it, too.

Today, Meng Yao’s head was still warm from when the stern Teacher Lan had put his hand there, gentle and approving, and his ears still burning from the murmured “Well done, Meng Yao, as expected.”

“I think I would kill someone for him,” Meng Yao said dreamily to Su She, who snorted.

“You’ve got such father issues,” he said disdainfully, as if he didn’t have entire family issues. That was just Su She’s way, though – he bitched and moaned and complained without end, and he’d probably kill someone for Meng Yao if Meng Yao so much as hinted it was something he’d want. They’d made friends for a reason. “You know the bit about the poor kids being his own children is a lie, right?”

“I know which sect’s leader is my father, thanks,” Meng Yao said, rolling his eyes. “I’m well aware it’s not Teacher Lan. Like he’d ever have kids of his own, anyway.”

“That’d require noticing when someone’s flirting with him,” Su She agreed, all solemn for just a moment, and then he dissolved into sniggering giggles. Meng Yao couldn’t blame him: it was, in fact, extremely funny when women (and sometimes men) tried to flirt with Teacher Lan, mostly because of the way that he very genuinely and completely missed that that was what was happening each and every time.

“Laugh all you like,” Meng Yao said peaceably. “You’d kill for him, too.”

“Probably,” Su She agreed. “But only because of you.”

That was fair enough. After getting the lay of the land, Meng Yao had arranged for them to ‘accidentally’ be overheard by Teacher Lan while talking about the misconduct of one of the teachers who was the most biased against guest disciples, one of the ones that had been harassing Su She in particular for over a year before Meng Yao had arrived, and despite Su She’s initial nervousness about the plan, it had all gone splendidly. Sure, they’d been punished to do five copies of a treatise on upright conduct because they’d breached Talking behind the backs of others is prohibited, but the teacher in question had been sentenced to two hundred strikes with the discipline rod for abusing his position and three months of enforced seclusion to contemplate his misbehavior, and then, Teacher Lan had said, his expression dark and threatening, they could discuss what role would be the best fit in the future.

The other teachers had taken notice and shaped up very quickly, after that.

Comparatively, those five copies made in the nice cool Library Pavilion instead of having to do chores on the hottest days of summer? Practically a pat on the back for bringing it to his attention.

Su She would never have dared to raise anything if it was just him, Meng Yao thought; he had a strange fear of authority figures that combined envy and misery in an explosive combination – he would have just suffered and suffered and suffered until he’d been pushed too far and then it would have all burst out at once. He wasn’t like Meng Yao, who was unwilling to keep to his “proper” place and was more than willing to use his greater-than-average share of brains to get what he wanted, no matter what rules he broke in the process. He was the sort of person who was willing to do whatever it took to obtain his desires – no matter what it took.

Well, maybe not no matter what. He wouldn’t want to disappoint Lan Qiren too much.

(Okay, so maybe Su She was right and he had some unresolved father issues. So what if he did? Whose business was it but his?)

It’d taken Meng Yao a while to fully adjust to the Cloud Recesses.

Some parts he’d figured out right away – the way they all flattered themselves as gentlemen even if they were actually little more than hypocrites (Teacher Lan and his personally taught nephews exempted, of course), which of course meant that Meng Yao’s ability to act pitiful at the drop of a hat and cleverly turn black into white made him a teacher’s pet at once. The vegetarian meals were easy enough to adapt to, given that his mother hadn’t had the money for meat all that often, and the training and cultivation and all that wasn’t any challenge for his excellent powers of retention – he had ambitions of becoming one of Teacher Lan’s aides one day, and worked assiduously towards that goal. Even waking and sleeping early, which was practically the opposite of his schedule at home, was something he could adjust to, given time and incentive.

It was his mentality that took some time to adjust.

Meng Yao had perhaps grown up with too many of his mother’s stories, painting an image of a matchless paradise – at the start, he looked at everything around him, serene and elegant but not quite as rich and shining and thought that it would do, for now. When he’d first arrived, he had had every intention of making a good reputation for himself and using that reputation to get his real father’s attention – he’d liked Teacher Lan from the beginning, despite his best attempts to not let his heart be swayed, but he’d reasoned that if a teacher was like this, then a blood-related father would be even better.

And so, for the first half-year, he’d treated his time at the Cloud Recesses…not lightly, no. He was extremely serious about making sure to get the maximum benefit he could. And yet, at the same time, he still was not really committing himself to the place.

This wasn’t where he was going to live his whole life, he reasoned; it was just a stepping stone to a better future. That meant he would exert himself to point out things that made him look good, to eliminate obstacles in his path, to win himself allies, but not bother with those longer-term problems, the ones that really ought to be fixed but which would take a great deal of effort with little reward other than annoying people.

His feeling of superiority and emotional distance lasted right up until the first discussion conference.

From a distance, Jin Guangshan was everything Meng Yao could have imagined – perhaps a little too similar to the clients that his mother often saw, a little dissolute to pull off the air of a refined scholar he affected, but wearing more gold than Meng Yao had ever seen in his life, with a retinue of servants that dwarfed the other sect’s. Each of those servants were dressed more finely than even main clan cultivators in some of the smaller sects, and though Meng Yao’s Lan sect guest disciple clothing was of such quality that he didn’t need to fear their disdain, he couldn’t help but be secretly impressed.

He'd exerted himself more than usual to trade away all of his chores and duties, freeing himself up to take on patrol duty near the Jin sect. He’d perhaps daydreamed about some sort of encounter – nothing active on his part, of course, but he couldn’t quite resist playing through some fantasy of catching someone’s eye by chance, getting called over, a “You have a familiar set to your chin, who’s your father?”, a shy halting admission, recognition, a joyous reunion…

Instead, his father spent the entire night getting drunk and cursing the Lan sect’s hospitality for not providing him with girls to go with his liquor, calling Lan Qiren a miserable prude with a stick up his ass right in front of the Lan sect disciples that clenched their fists in barely concealed rage. He’d seen Meng Yao all right, ordered him to come forward, but it’d only been to mock him in front of all of his servants – and not even for being his bastard son, no, that would involve bothering to pick him out from the crowd or to ask who he was. No, he’d mocked him simply for being one of the poor disciples that Lan Qiren had taken in, all because his accent was marked with the distinct tones of Yunping rather than the sweetness of Gusu.

“Tell me, boy,” he said, breathing fumes into Meng Yao’s face and making him feel suddenly as if he’d never left the brothel – that the Cloud Recesses had all been a vague dream, and now he’d woken up and lost it all. “How does that old fart Qiren expect you to pay him back for all he’s done for you? I heard the Lan sect includes a pretty face as one of its standard requirements…”

Meng Yao put his gaze above his father’s head and pretended to be deaf.

“It seems like rather a lot of effort,” one of his father’s attendants remarked. “Even if Second Master Lan wanted a boy to warm his bed, couldn’t he just buy one like any normal person?”

“Bah, boys,” his father said, and leaned back, waving his hands in dismissal. “Why would anyone bother with a boy when you could have a soft woman instead? Just as long as they’re stupid enough – you know, there’s nothing worse than a woman who’s talented and knows it, too smart, always trying to get above their station…”

“You’re thinking about that whore in Yunping again, aren’t you? The one that interrupted your dinner and made a scene, claiming you’d promised to take in the son she bore you?” the attendant said, laughing. “I told you, you should’ve just killed her for her impudence rather than just having her beaten and thrown out. That way the matter wouldn’t still be bothering you…”

“Go away, boy,” another servant said to Meng Yao, who was frozen stiff in belated terror, nausea churning in his stomach as he realized his mother could’ve gone out one day and never come back, and he would never have known why – or maybe it was that he’d been spending his considerable time and brain on pleasing someone who would have done that, who nearly had done that. “Your accent’s brought back bad memories, don’t you see?”

Meng Yao left.

No, to be more blunt: he fled. He ran away, hot tears filling his eyes until he couldn’t see – belly full of regret and disappointment, crushed dreams feeling like broken shards of glass in his mouth and throat.

He tried to tell himself that it was better to find out now, when they were still distant, before he'd sold his soul for the futile chance to get that horrible man's affection, but he couldn't quite throw off the shame of knowing that if he hadn't heard such a thing up front, he probably would have done that. Would have humiliated himself like that, and for what? A man who regretted not murdering his mother?

He ran right into Lan Wangji, who was also on patrol.

Lan Wangji took one look at him and grabbed his wrist, dragging him away from the main pathway and all the way to his uncle’s rooms.

Lan Qiren was still awake despite the late hour, writing something at his desk, but he set aside his brush at once. “What’s going on?” he asked, frowning. “Wangji – Meng Yao – one of you report.”

“Meng Yao was on patrol by the Jin sect,” Lan Wangji explained as Meng Yao furiously tried to dash away his tears using his sleeve.

“Who permitted that? First year disciples aren’t permitted to patrol during discussion conferences,” Lan Qiren asked, his frown deepening. “It wouldn’t be proper – ah, but no, I recall now. I suppose it was inevitable. Wangji, well done, and thank you. You are dismissed.”

After Lan Wangji left, he turned his eyes on Meng Yao.

“You volunteered, didn’t you?” he asked.

Meng Yao felt his back go cold: Lan Qiren knew, then. It had never been said out loud by anyone as far as he knew, and yet it was clear that Lan Qiren knew who his father was – and probably his mother, too.

He knew that Meng Yao was – that he wasn’t anything more than –

“You are one of my most promising disciples, Meng Yao,” Lan Qiren told him, and poured him a cup of tea from his own pot, pressing it into his hands. It was finer tea than Meng Yao had ever had in his life, full of smoke and flavor. “The rules say Be loyal and filial, but they also praise reciprocity. You have not been recognized, and have not received your forefathers’ grace. You can fulfill your obligations to chivalry through your respect for the parent that raised you.”

Meng Yao stared down at the teacup. Lan Qiren had completely misunderstood the nature of Meng Yao’s concern – he was disappointed in what his father was, not worried about not living up to his obligations of being a filial child. And yet it was a little nice to hear that as far as Lan Qiren was concerned, the rules said that he could tell his father go hang for all he cared…

And that he ought to honor his mother, which was something no one who knew her had ever said to him.

“Even if she –” His voice stuttered. “Even if she’s a…”

He couldn’t say the word.

“Appreciate the good people is not qualified by class or profession,” Lan Qiren said, and his monotone voice was blissfully without emotion, as if this were just another lesson in class, and not the deepest hurt of Meng Yao’s life. “I have never met your mother, Meng Yao, but you are a good child – diligent, organized, sincere, with good judgment, and you clearly adore her. That tells me everything I need to know.”

Meng Yao burst into tears.

Meng Yao liked Lan Xichen a lot, but he also had to admit that sometimes, the older boy was, well…

“Dumb as a pile of rocks,” Su She announced.

“Do not criticize other people,” Meng Yao said piously, but then chuckled, shaking his head. “Say, rather, that he’s naïve and sheltered, and overly inclined to believe the best in people.”

“Like I said: dumb as rocks. How many times is going to get himself swindled into being someone’s sword or shield before he figures out that the problem is him?”

“Some people don’t have the capacity to understand the depths of humanity’s foulness –”

“Yeah, dumb ones.”

“Su She, please.” Su She held up his hands in surrendered. “At any rate, if Lan-gongzi is going to keep falling for people’s tricks, it’s beholden on us to help protect him.”

“You just don’t want Teacher Lan to be sad about something serious happening to his nephew,” Su She said knowingly, but he was already nodding. “All right, what are we going to do about it? He outranks us. We can’t exactly tell him to his face that he’s being…”

He paused.

Dumb as rocks went unsaid, but then, it didn’t need to be said out loud for the meaning to be clear.

Meng Yao sighed.

“You can only trick someone so many times,” he said. “If we want to keep him from getting tricked by other people, then we have to trick him first. And better.”

“What do you mean?”

“Lan-gongzi likes to save people,” Meng Yao explained. “He really sees himself as a chivalrous gentleman – he puts chivalry first, even though Teacher Lan says Learning comes first. That’s why he always sides with whoever he perceives to be the underdog in a given situation, no matter how wrong that impression is. That’s how most of the people who’ve been tricking him have gone for it: playing the victim, appealing to his sense of righteousness, pulling the curtains over his eyes to obscure what’s actually happening.”

“Okay. So?”

“So, we’ve both got miserable backstories – you being taken from your family at a young age and then bullied, me with my mother and, even worse, father. If we get him on our side, early on, he’ll side with us over anyone else – that way we can keep him from getting roped into other people’s private grudges.”

Su She frowned. “That seems a little manipulative.”

“It’s for his own good, and that’s what’s important,” Meng Yao said, and smiled faintly. “Wouldn’t you agree, Lan-er-gongzi?”

Su She jumped, turning around just in time to see Lan Wangji, who had been standing in the shadow of a nearby tree, step out.

He had a serious expression, as always, but a thoughtful one.

Meng Yao waited patiently.

“You cannot take advantage,” Lan Wangji finally said, and Meng Yao knew he’d won the most important ally in the battle to save Lan Xichen from himself. “That would change it from a virtuous act to a selfish one.”

“Like we need anything from him,” Su She said haughtily. “Maintain your own discipline.”

“Arrogance is forbidden.”

“It’s not arrogance if it’s justified! It’s just self-confidence!”

“Do not argue with family,” Meng Yao quoted, and was pleased to see both of them drop it at once. “Listen, we all share the same goal, and we have to start somewhere, don’t we? We’re stronger together than apart. Together, we can do anything, even protect Lan-gongzi.”

That and more, he thought as the other boys nodded, following his lead. Lan Xichen is just the start.

“The Wen sect will make trouble sooner rather than later,” Meng Yao said thoughtfully, one day. His friends turned to look at him. “Yes, I’m serious.”

Lan Wangji nodded, serious as always, but Su She scoffed.

“You can’t even convince that Wei Wuxian boy to leave poor Lan-er-gongzi alone,” he said snidely. “How exactly are you expecting to bring down the Wen sect?”

“I don’t convince Wei Wuxian to leave Lan-er-gongzi alone because Lan-er-gongzi doesn’t want to be left alone,” Meng Yao said. “Obviously. Isn’t that right?”

“You should call me by name,” Lan Wangji said, which wasn’t answering the question and definitely wasn’t denying anything. “You were saying, about the Wen sect?”

Meng Yao smiled.

“What brings one of Teacher Lan’s most promising disciples to the Unclean Realm?” Nie Mingjue said, peering at him thoughtfully. “You’re at the wrong time to be one of the usual messengers.”

Meng Yao smiled at him.

“I think you’ll find that we have similar goals, Sect Leader Nie,” he said. “When it comes to making sure that certain people in our lives don’t get hurt by the bad decisions of others, I mean. In your case, it’s your younger brother, who’s a friend of mine –”

Friend, source of information, it was all about the same thing in the end. Meng Yao didn’t have real friends outside the Lan sect, but he’d been very careful to cultivate good relationships with all his most important peers.

“- and for me, well. A teacher for day, a father for a lifetime. I’m sure Sect Leader Nie can understand the importance of protecting one’s father – right?”

“You don’t need to use any sophistry on me,” Nie Mingjue said, rolling his eyes. “If you have an idea on what we can do to stop the Wen sect before they go and burn someone’s house down, I’m all ears.”

By chance, Meng Yao did.

It was a good plan, too, daring and brave in equal measure. If it worked the way he hoped it would, he’d win enough fame to get Jin Guangshan to beg for him to join the Jin sect – not that he would, of course.

Meng Yao knew what he wanted, and he knew how he was going to get it, too.

“This is a lovely house, A-Yao,” Meng Shi said, running her hand along one of the soft tapestries on the wall. “Truly lovely. Whoever you rented it from has good taste.”

Meng Yao bowed. “Thank you for the compliment, Mother. I put a lot of thought into it.”

“You own it?” she asked, surprised. “But don’t you live up the mountain, with the sect?”

“I do. This is for you.”

“For – me? A-Yao! This is too much – how much must it have cost–”

“I saved the Lan sect’s core texts from being destroyed,” Meng Yao said. “I’m an inner sect disciple now – I could ask for a dozen houses like this, and they’d grant them to me without blinking twice. Teacher Lan would insist on it.”

“Teacher Lan,” his mother murmured. “That’s the one you’ve taken to treating as your own father, isn’t it? You’ve spoken so much of him, in your letters…”

“There’s no need to scheme,” he told her. “He wouldn’t notice your flirtations, anyway.”

His mother arched her eyebrows at him.

“He’s really oblivious.”

“Still…”

“Really no need,” Meng Yao said, and couldn’t help but smile at the memory of Lan Qiren pulling him into a hug when he realized that the books – and Lan Xichen – were all safe from the Wen sect’s attempt to burn down the Cloud Recesses, and, later, again, that Wen Ruohan was dead. He may have deliberately schemed for that second hug, and he might or might not have plans for more. “He already takes me as a son.”

His mother relaxed.

“Good,” she said, and smiled herself. “So, A-Yao, was I right, all those years ago? Was the Lan sect a good fit for you?”

“Yes, Mother,” Meng Yao said. “Yes, it was.”

#mdzs #meng yao #jin guangyao #lan qiren #su she #lan wangji #my fic #my fics #a good fit

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thera-daydreams · 3 years ago

Text

PLUS ONE

》 A TRESE TWOSHOT 《

[Maliksi x Reader]

📝 Summary: In which your beloved best friend snatches you from your apartment at dawn asking you to be his plus one for his cousin's wedding. Unbeknownst to the clueless you, everything is just going according to Maliksi's ultimate masterplan. With the help of friends and family, the Prince of the Tikbalang finally gets the girl he's been longing for. And oh, Señor Armanaz gets his dream daughter-in-law and the promise of grandchildren within the year.

📌 Warning: May contain some slight NSFW for spicy suggestiveness and cussing. No smut or anything super SPG—this girl can't write that for her life—but just be prepared. It's Maliksi we're talking about. We've got friends-to-lovers, obliviousness, pining, fluff, and a tikbalang simp. Figure it out. 😃

(word count: 7,454) ♥︎ Part Two: ?

》 AUTHOR'S NOTE 《

Not an Inday spinoff, but a lengthy oneshot in celebration of this blog getting 90 followers. Just ten more to 100, yay! Thank you so much for the love and support, everyone. I also promised that I'll be making this brainrot that @binibiningbabaylan and I have fangirled over a few days ago (find the original post here) when I finished the latest chapter of Inday. Here it is! 🥰

Before I forget, I was also inspired by the cute fic made by @crispybasil titled "Sunshowers" and the "Trese Boys As Things My Guy Friends Do" made by the amazing @smolla-than-a-bug (I bow down to your wonderful works in the Trese fandom). I definitely see Maliksi to be the type to go on spontaneous roadtrips and be the boyfriend to drive you around eveeeerywhere (while also driving you crazy). 🚘

There are also some songs mentioned throughout this work. You should probably listen to them while reading for the full experience. Ending was somewhat rushed but eh, I'm too exhausted and I've rewritten it too many times. Also, if someone makes some actual tikbalang smut, tag me please. Anyways, enjoy! 💕

The way it all started was hilarious. Absolutely fucking hilarious. It happened like a blur. Literally. One second, you were snoozing in your bed. The next? You had a seatbelt on in the shotgun seat of a sophisticated-looking car. Your brain didn't even get to process it yet.

"... So let me get this straight," you grumbled, still half-asleep from your sleep marathon. You just finished a hugely successful project at work yesterday, got promoted, and wanted to make up for the restless nights you spent overtime in the office. Of course you were irritated from being disturbed. You were on vacation leave for two entire weeks, originally planning to go into temporary isolation by deactivating your social media accounts and reserving a beach cabana for yourself in Batangas.

Well, turns out, you weren't going to Batangas anytime soon. All because your unreasonably spontaneous bestfriend of ten hectic years stole you from your apartment at 2AM. Was this considered kidnapping? Was this him just being more in touch with his tikbalang side, taking unsuspecting women in their sleep and leading them to their inevitable death? (He was going over the speed limit, so it was a valid thought.) Will wearing your shirt inside-out save you today? Lord, masyado ka pang pagod para mag-isip ngayon.

"Go on."

"You abducted picked me up in the middle of the night because you want me to be your plus one at your cousin's wedding in Tagaytay?"

"Yup. And technically, the venue is right on the outskirts of Cavite going to Tagaytay," he corrected you as a matter-of-factly.

"Same thing, whatever," you huffed tiredly. "Your cousin's wedding is at 6AM today. In a few hours. In four hours."

"Uh-huh."

You groaned exasperatedly, "Mal naman, eh! You didn't even let me bring anything. Could've at least given me a heads-up a few hours ago. I'm practically emptyhanded right now save for my phone! Sinungaling ka, you said this was just a normal midnight drive—not a freaking wedding!"

The Prinsipe ng Mga Tikbalang, son of the Great Stallion, heir to the Armanaz herd, and the Top Drag Racer of C-5 Expressway—if that was even one of his Game of Thrones-like titles—grinned as he continued driving beside you. He let you continue ranting in the passenger seat while he mulled over his ultimate masterplan that would change his entire life later on. He was a spur-of-the-moment kind of guy, so all this wasn't his thing. But for you? He'll make plans, alright.

"Wala man lang akong dinalang masusuot o kahit konting makeup para maging presentable sa harapan ng buong pamilya mo," you exclaimed, in absolute despair. "Do you know how out of my league you are? Your rich-ass family might judge me—hell, your dad might see me as a hampaslupa if I show up there in my pambahay and tsinelas!"

"Psh, I'm not out of your league," Maliksi waved it off, smoothly turning a corner. "And calm down. We've known each other for a decade! My dad practically loves you as his own daughter. Heck, the entire family knows you and keeps telling me they want you adopted in already. Lolo Andres and Lola Perlita said they'd have the paperwork settled. You just need to sign them."

It would be even better (and easier) if you married into the family. To him, specifically (as if he'd let anyone else have you). God, he was already being so obvious in his advances, but you were just so damn oblivious whenever it came to romance. None of this needed to happen if you just got it through your thick skull that he was madly in love with you.

"That's not the point, idiot!" you slumped back into your seat, hopeless. "Do you think the bride and the groom will get offended? Shit, baka masumpaan ako kung magagalit sila, Mal. Mukha akong patay galing sa South Cemetery."

The long-haired tikbalang rolled his eyes, "Huwag kang mag-alala. Nothing's going to go wrong. Chill ka lang diyan. I've got everything under control, babe."

Babe. Yes, he even called you babe but you thought it was him being a himbo and a massive flirt. Now, it was his common term of endearment for you, but you still assumed it was him just being irksome to you and that you couldn't stop the man from saying it anymore. Thus, you let it be (the most obvious hint of his attraction to you, bestie).

"... Ugh, why didn't you ask Hannah or Amie to go with you?"

He just smiled knowingly, shrugging and making up an excuse, "Nagmamadali ako, eh. Hannah and Amie are also coming, but they already have the other tikbalang as dates."

"'Luh, ako pala ang backup choice mo?"

"Heh. Whatever you want to think."

Little did you know that you were always his first choice. Always. Even when he pursued Alexandra Trese many years ago, trying to convince himself you were just his best friend, it was always you. How did he come to that realization? Well, an international band he was a fan of released a song a couple years ago and he heard it being played in a club in BGC. The song title?

It Was Always You by Maroon 5.

Needless to say, after hearing the song and being unable to get it—get you—out of his mind at night, he stopped courting Alexandra. Unfortunately for him, that time, you'd started dating other men. Therefore, he was left on the sidelines... until your latest and most painful breakup, at least. That was five years ago. You still hadn't dated anyone since then, kind of traumatized from getting into another failed relationship like that.

In the present day, as if the fates were playing on you two, one of your favorite artists played on the radio. A very ironic song given the situation you two were in.

Best Friend by Rex Orange County.

Maliksi knew it was a favorite of yours. He knew it by the way your eyes lit up like a star brightening the twinkling night sky. Like the sun first rising in the morning at Apolaki's command. Like the moon extending its gentle rays from the magic of Mayari herself. If there was anything he wanted to ask of the old gods, it was you—everything else be damned.

"I wanna be the one that makes your day, the one you think about as you lie awake," you half-sang and half-screamed happily, somewhat out-of-tune. "I can't wait to be your number oooooone! I'll be your biggest fan and you'll be mine—"

Maliksi glanced at you, not minding that his eardrums were probably getting microscopic ruptures from your aggressive singing. As much as he wanted to stare at you all day, he had to keep his eyes on the road. But the lyrics you were singing were wrong; the Prince of the Tikbalang was already yours from day one.

"Babe, McDo drive-through tayo for breakfast. Let me make it up to you. Gusto mo ng caramel sundae for your promotion gift? Sige. Ako bahala. Chicken nuggets din? Mabubusog ka ba niyan? I don't think they serve those this early..."

》》》

"Sandali lang!" you shouted out from inside an empty room. You'd just arrived at the venue—the Alta Veranda de Tibig in Silang, Cavite (practically the gateway to Tagaytay)—an hour or so ago. The hired makeup artist just left so that you could privately change into the outfit that had been bought specifically for you. Curse Mal and his ability to buy anything (perhaps anyone) he wanted. "Bwiset, Mal, you didn't tell me we'd be part of the damn entourage. We have to be walking the aisle in thirty minutes, simbako! You just love rushing me, don't you!?"

If only you were the one walking down the aisle today towards him.

When you exited the room, Maliksi couldn't help but let his jaw drop as he skimmed your figure, clad in the luxurious, silky satin blush midi dress he bought in one of those fancy stores in Makati yesterday. He imagined that it would look great on you, but now, seeing it on you in person... you looked divine (and frankly, he wanted to see it off your body to see what was underneath—but don't get too ahead of yourself, Mal). It was a whole 'nother level from his imagination. The deep cowl neckline and thin spaghetti straps showed your lovely collarbones... as well as a peek of your cleavage. His favorite and the best part of it all? It was backless, allowing him to gaze at the tempting curve of your spine.

He hadn't realized he had grown silent until you smiled and closed his mouth, tapping his chin.

"Lalangawin ang bibig mo, Mal," you laughed softly. Never had you seen him so speechless. You then flicked your hair back, ridiculously posing for him like you were on the cover of Vogue magazine (haba ng hair mo, gurl!). "Do I look that good? Char lang."

"... You look absolutely ravishing—I mean, uh, stunning. Hot. Yeah." That was all he could say. He mentally punched himself for not showering you with more suave compliments.

Still, your face brightened up, not knowing that the man in front of you just fell for you a thousand times harder, "Wow! Really? Damn. Ang galing talaga ng MUA na kinuha mo, ginawa akong artista. Give me their contact number later! May work event pa naman ako in two months. I'm shocked, it's like they made me rise from the dead! Even my eyebags are gone, Mal! How'd they do that?" Heck yeah, your confidence was boosted. He offered his arm to you like a gentleman, making you half-heartedly roll your eyes (you took it anyway). From holding it alone, you could tell that your best friend was a sinewy man (well, you knew that already after seeing his tikbalang form before—the little shit didn't even wear a loincloth like all his clanmates; your poor eyes were eternally scarred).

You looked him up and down. You wouldn't lie—Maliksi is and always has been an attractive man. Now? With his hair in a ponytail (pun not intended), definitely one of the hunkiest men you've ever known. "You're not looking too bad yourself, horsey."

"Ako pa!" He puffed his chest out in pride. You chuckled at his reaction.

"By the way, how do you even know my dress size and my shoe size?"

"Babe, I've known you too long. You know almost everything about me, I know everything about you."

You snorted at his confident tone, "'Di nga? You don't know every single thing about me, Mal. Assuming ka masyado."

"Alam ko nga anong cup size mo. Wala lang 'yang shoe and dress size."

You slapped his shoulder, cheeks quickly flushing red, "Huy, umayos ka! Walang hiyang tikbalang na 'to." With this guy as your best friend? You heard dirty jokes at least once a day. "Don't be inappropriate here!"

"What? It's only fair I know!" He looked down on you suggestively, wiggling his eyebrows. "You already know I always go commando, so of course I know that your bra is a size—"

"Shhh! Baka marinig ka, 'nyeta."

"So? Let them hear. My best friend has a nice set of melons!" he shouted. You were grateful there was no one around. Hopefully.

"Oh my God..."

Your best friend chortled at how flustered you'd become. He led you to where some of his family was waiting, with a couple of his relatives already greeting you. You instantly and quite easily mingled with them, your worries of them not accepting you far from even true (they all knew how much their prince loved the innocent you).

"Kayo na talaga, pare?" one of his older tikbalang clanmates asked while you went away to be fawned over by his aunts.

Maliksi chuckled, crossing his arms as he watched you from afar, "Heh. Hindi pa."

Another one of his clanmates—a younger one—laughed, wrapping an arm around his shoulder, "Talaga? That's cap, bro. You two are like a married couple already and you guys still aren't a thing?"

"Ilang taon na ba kayong magkakaibigan?" the older one asked him.

"Almost ten years," Maliksi responded, a smile unconsciously pulling his lips up as he remembered your moments together. He watched you converse with his female relatives (who adored you the moment Maliksi brought you to a family event many moons ago).

The two tikbalang snickered as they saw the look on the Great Stallion's heir.

"You're down bad," the younger one said, snapping a photo of his lovestruck kuya. "You've got it so bad for her, dudeparechong!"

"Balak mong ligawan anytime soon?" the older tikbalang inquired.

"Heh. Balak ko na ngang pakasalan. Kung pwede, ngayon."

They looked at Maliksi as if he was crazy. He was very much serious, though, even if there was a huge, lopsided smile on his face. The Prince of the Tikbalang raised a brow at them.

"What? Don't give me that look. Our ten years of being best friends is practically the courting and the dating stage already."

"Eh... you're right. Don't waste anymore time. Go and marry her today, dude. Suporta kami sa'yo, basta groomsmen kami sa kasal niyo, ha!"

"Ge. Without question."

Meanwhile, on your end with the ladies of the family, they started pestering you on your love life (like all typical Filipino aunties). Chismis everywhere.

"O, iha, single ka pa ba?"

"Kailan ka magpapakasal? Malapit ka nang pumasok sa thirties mo."

"Do you want kids? How many?"

"Are you and Maliksi a couple? You look good together! Kayo na, 'di ba?"

"Will you be getting married next? Are you engaged? When's the wedding? Invite niyo kami!"

Before you could get overwhelmed by their questions, Maliksi swept you off your feet to lead you to the entourage that was lining up outside the chapel area. Again, it happened like a blur. He laughed at the partially nauseated look on your face.

"You okay there?" he asked, grinning.

"Your family thinks we're together," you muttered quietly, not meeting his eyes. You weren't sure why you felt... tingly about their statements.

He tilted his head at you curiously, gently setting you down on your feet and helping you stand.

"Do you hate the idea?" It hurt him to ask you the question, but he wanted your thoughts on it. Perhaps doing this was a bad idea. Maliksi was competitive in many things, including wanting you to be his, but if you were so opposed to it, he would never force you into something you didn't want. He let go of your hand; you didn't even notice he'd been holding it until he let go. "Am I making you uncomfortable?"

Your wide-eyed gaze snapped back to look up at him, "No! No, it's not that! And... it's not bad." Your hand felt strangely empty now that his was gone. Biting your lip, you disclosed, "You're not making me uncomfortable, Mal. Don't ever think that."

With that, you shyly interlocked your arm with his, tearing your eyes from his to mask the growing warmth you felt spreading in your veins. You two didn't say anything else when the ushers let you walk down the beautiful, petal-covered aisle together.

The man beside you was starstruck. Hopeful. Maybe both of you did have a chance. Maybe somewhere in the depths of your soul, his feelings for you were being reciprocated. For the rest of the sacred ceremony in the gorgeous main pavilion, both of you relished in short, comfortable, and low conversations. He even cracked jokes every once in a while—really funny ones that made it challenging for you to you stifle your laughter.

"I now pronounce you husband and wife! You may kiss the bride."

Maliksi fervently prayed to Bathala that he'd experience the same opportunity he was seeing with you someday. One day.

Even while the sun was brightly out, the sky began showering down light rain onto the land. You were in awe as you looked out the window.

"Hala, totoo nga pala! Tignan mo!" you laughed, tugging Maliksi's suit sleeve, pointing at the window.

"Na ano?" he curiously inquired, not understanding what you were referring to.

"Na kapag may tikbalang na kinakasal, umuulan habang may araw pa," you replied, eyes filled with childlike mirth and wonder. A rainbow had even begun to form by the clouds. "Look, it's magical! Ang ganda pala ng view dito kasama ang old Spanish architecture. Timeless na timeless. It's so pretty, 'no? Picture tayo 'maya, Mal."

Unlike you, it wasn't the sky outside that the prince was looking at. Amidst the loud cheers for the newlywed couple and the bubbles the guests were blowing, his vision could only focus on how magnificent you looked while being amazed. You were his best view. (Ed from 90-Day Fiancé, kabahan ka na, may katapat ka sa pickup line mo.)

》》》

"Smile for the picture!"

You giggled as Maliksi was dragged into a photo-op with the bridesmaids and the important older wedding sponsors a few feet away (funnily, he looked a little constipated around them). All of a sudden, when he was heading back to your direction, you were roughly pushed into the said man's arms. When you turned around, there was nothing (except maybe a gust of wind that came out of nowhere).

"Ooh, gotcha. Careful," the tikbalang steadied you, strong hands holding your biceps. "Natapilok ka?"

"... Huh, hindi naman," you wondered suspiciously, looking around. "I think someone pushed me? Parang tinulak ako... but wala namang tao."

"Weird. Maybe it was just the wind."

It actually was. Really. Maliksi knew for a fact that it was those two taong hangin who were spying on you from the corner, trying to pair you up. He gave them a thumbs-up while your back was turned in the opposite direction. Hannah and Amie returned the thumbs-up before vanishing. Suddenly, the two wedding photographers had moved on from the bridesmaids and were right beside you.

"What a lovely couple you two are!" she praised. Before you could correct her, she held up the black contraption she held towards you two. "Pose for the camera, lovelies!"

And so you did, the photographer guiding you two on what to do. Maliksi wrapped his arm around your waist and you leaned on his side, looking sidewards to the camera with one leg cocked in front of the other. Her assistant, who was holding a polaroid camera, printed out two photos for you.

"Thank you," you told him, taking the photos from his hands then flicking them rapidly to make the images develop. You and Mal were about to walk to the reception area when the photographer stopped you, handing the male beside you a business card.

"If you two need a photographer or a videographer for your wedding, call me," she signaled to both of you before running to another guest, bringing her assistant with her.

You gawked, "Mal, did you just hear what she said?"

"Loud and clear." A grin was on his face. He seemed very pleased at what he heard.

"... How can she even tell if someone is married or not?"

Maliksi's free hand took your left hand, tapping the ring finger, "Nothing here."

"Ooooooh. I get it now." Your brows creased. "Huh. This is like the fifth time today the people here have mistaken us for a couple."

Maliksi shrugged, teasing you, "Who knows? Baka may potential tayo, babe."

Before you could ask him what he meant, he was hurriedly towing you to the reception venue. While he was doing that, you stared at the now-developed polaroid photos you were holding. Huh. Maybe you two did look like a couple.

"Come on, they're serving some snacks at the welcome reception area. Peach pie and mango float-flavored. Paborito mo, babe."

》》》

The rest of the night went by without a hitch. You were actually enjoying the event—the host was great, the food was great, the music was great. Everything was great... that was, until the games.

"Alright! Now that the bride's garter has been removed, let's have the bouquet and garter toss... starting with the females!" the host announced. "Dear bride, please stay here in front. And all single ladies—and by single I mean ready to mingle and are not married—please rise and stand here on the dance floor. Let's play matchmaker tonight, everyone!"

"Uy, single ladies daw," Maliksi nudged your side. "Sign mo na 'yan." You snorted like a pig.

"Nope, ayokong madamay sa bouquet toss," you whisper-yelled at your best friend. "Do you know how embarrassing that is?! Besides, they won't notice if I don't join! Special tactic ko 'yan sa weddings: pretending I'm not single. Katabi naman kita."

More women came to the front, making you feel assured that you didn't need to participate. The host was about to say something, when the bride interrupted to whisper something into his ear.

"Hala, halaaa! Sabi ko all single ladies, pero may isang single lady na nagtatago pa!" he announced, making you freeze. Please don't let it be you. "What's her name, beloved bride?"

"Y/N L/N." You nearly spat out your champagne. You? Did they just call out your name? How did they know?

"Oh fuck," you cursed quietly.

"'Di ka makakatakas dito, babe," Maliksi jabbed, making you stand up. "Tinatawag ka na."

"Baka may ibang Y/N L/N dito," you resisted, attempting to sit back down. "I can't do this, Mal."

"'Sus, ikaw pa. And it's just a symbolic ceremony!" he encouraged, as if he didn't have any underlying intentions. "I doubt the bouquet will go to you anyway."

Sheesh, what a big fat liar you are, tikbalang prince.

You expressed your dissatisfaction with the situation, "Bwiset, fine. I'll just... dodge it. Or evade it. God, I swear..." You calmed down, confident. "I'm not going to worry. I've never caught the bouquet at my own friends' weddings anyway."

When you were at the dance floor, Maliksi snickered, seeing the bride—his cousin—wink at him. After all, he had thoroughly bribed her earlier.

《《《

"It's about time you settled down with someone, Mal," the bride commented while he slipped her the newest Hermés designer bag filled with a bunch of jewelry (plus some bills) two hours ago, right before the reception began and while you were in the restroom freshening up. "Hehehe, this is why you're my favorite cousin."

"Do we have a deal?"

"Of course. I'll make sure she participates. I'll also try to throw it in her direction."

"Good. Thanks."

"You better invite me to your beach wedding. I can tell how much you love her."

"Not a problem. I'll even make you a sponsor."

The bride stared at her bouquet, already practicing how she was going to throw it, "Tito's going to thank me so much for ensuring that he's going to get grandkids soon, hihi."

》》》

Back to the present, on the other end of the room, Maliksi saw a familiar duo give him a sign that they were ready. Bingo. Time to execute the most important part of his plan.

《《《

"I don't care how you do it," he told the two wind elementals after he bribed the bride. "I've already instructed the bride on what she should do, pero siguraduhin niyo lang talagang lumipad sa kanya ang bouquet."

"Mmhmm," Amie flipped her hair, a hand on her cocked hip. "And what do we get in return, oh great Señorito Armanaz?"

"Sagot ko bar-hopping niyo for one month."

The two girls pretended to think about it, making Maliksi roll his eyes. He had to pull out the big guns, huh?

"Fine. Magbibigay ako ng cash deposit plus pwede niyong gamitin ang black card ko for a one-week shopping spree in Ortigas." There. Bullseye. That's what they liked.

"Deal!" they exclaimed excitedly.

Hannah let a cool gust of wind enter one of the nearby windows, testing out how they're going to do this. "Ano pa bang pinaplano mo for Y/N mamaya?"

Maliksi hummed, "Basta."

》》》

You tried your best to hide within the densest part of the group of women. The bride seemed to have her eyes on you, weirdly enough, and she looked almost feral wanting to throw her flowers into someone's face.

That someone being you. Most likely.

"Target locked on," you saw her mouth move. She positioned herself like she was about to throw a football at someone (ahem, you). Holy shit, was she talking to you? Miss ma'am, it was a bouquet toss not a bouquet throw. The bride seemed to notice this, and once more regained her elegant composure.

"3, 2, 1," the host counted down. "Go!"

Surprisingly, the bouquet flew very high into the air (it was a wonder it didn't get tangled in the ceiling decor), but quite a distance away from you. You grinned, knowing it was too far to even touch you. Squeezing through the crowd of women eagerly awaiting the bouquet, you went to return to your assigned table.

Ah, what a wonderful evening.

Sike!

Something painfully landed right into your face, leaves and flowers getting into your hair and mouth.

... Wait, leaves and flowers?

Before you could comprehend it, the bouquet dropped right into your arms. What kind of ungodly, inhuman force allowed this to even happen?

"Ladies and gentlemen, we have our lucky girl for the night!" Everyone clapped, with some—those guests you knew—even cheering your name unbelievably loud. The host approached you, a glint in his eye which you couldn't understand. "Miss Y/N, kindly sit here while we await the lucky guy who catches the garter from the groom."

What just happened?

"All single gentlemen, please proceed to the dance floor. Remember, the man who gets the garter gets to slip it onto the lucky lady's leg later!"

Oh, God. You pinched the bridge of your nose. What you'd give to be back at home or to be in that resort in Batangas you'd planned on going to for a solo vacation.

"To make this even more exciting," the host stated, handing you a black blindfold. "Our lucky lady has to keep her eyes closed until her lucky man for the night captures the bride's garter! When the music plays, only then can she uncover her eyes."

See? Humiliating, just as you expected. Still, you wrapped the blindfold around your head (albeit hesitantly). You attempted to guess who it might be, thinking of all the tikbalang friends Maliksi had introduced to you back then whenever he invited you to his clan reunions.

"Groom, are you ready?" the host asked, microphone loud and clear.

"Ready na ready!"

"Single gentlemen, are you ready?!"

"Ready na ready! Awoo, awoo!" they loudly chorused, exactly mimicking Spartans about to engage in battle. You sweatdropped in the seat you were in. This was actually kind of scary. Maybe you felt a bit objectified.

"3, 2, 1, go!"

There was a brief moment of silence, which made you concerned. Ba't ang tahimik? Then, everyone erupted into roars and bravoes much louder than when you caught the bouquet—perhaps even louder by tenfold. What the heck was happening?!

The music played. Very raunchy, spicy, babymaking music. You expected it to be the typical Careless Whisper by George Michael or Pony by Ginuwine (corny songs which you could probably laugh at, at least), but no. Nuh-uh, this was probably worse. The DJ must be pretty young, the song of their choosing being a slowed, bass-boosted, sexier remix of Earned It by the Weeknd.

Ano 'to, bold? Fifty Shades of Grey? The hell was this?

Alright. This was embarrassing. Thank the heavens there were no children at this party. From the music alone and its implications, this was strictly for adults.

You removed your blindfold (that was okay now, right?) as the guests whistled playfully. You peeked one eye open reluctantly, then inwardly groaned. Oh, no. You should've expected it to be him of all people from how loud the reactions were. And all those yells from the crowd were from his family.

Son of a—

"Well, this has proven to be a very interesting arrangement!" the host proclaimed. "Our lucky man for tonight is none other than our great clan leader's heir, Maliksi Armanaz! Congratulations, sir! You get to slip the lacey little garter on Miss Y/N!"

The said very smug tikbalang stood a few feet away from the chair you were sitting on, smirking at you. His hair was no longer in that mesmerizing ponytail—instead, he'd tied it into a more sinfully attractive man-bun, loose strands framing his face and accentuating that sharp, angled jaw of his (say yes and thank you to Manny Jacinto's jawline, besties).

"Let's cheer him on in his new mission, everybody!" the host pushed. Was this that glint in his eye earlier? And was that a one thousand peso bill sticking out of his pocket?

The groomsmen, Mal's cousins and uncles whom you've met before, hollered words of encouragement to the tall man (who was, oddly enough, not one bit fazed). In fact, Maliksi seemed like he was famished as he stared you down.

You swallowed, feeling like you were going to get eaten (heh, say that again). Maliksi had shrugged off his dark suit blazer to the beat of the song (holy fuck, he also unclasped the suspenders attached to his pants right before your eyes—asdfghjkl). Were you prepared for this? No. Will you ever be prepared? No!

"Mr. Armanaz, before you begin," the host interrupted. "We have an additional challenge for you in this mission. Kaya mo ba? It was a request of the newlywed couple."

"What is it?"

"Use your teeth!" the bride and the groom cheerfully shouted, clapping with the other guests. Whatdidtheysaaaaay???

The cocky bastard didn't even hesitate, his smirk at you growing wider; those pearly whites of his on full display. Was it just you or were his canines a little sharper than usual?

"Anything for the newlyweds. Challenge accepted," he dashingly replied, winking at you. You sputtered indignantly. Pisteng yawa. Putangina. Putek. Pakshet. You swore you thought of every swear word in the book at that moment. What did that YouTube parody song about Filipino mythological creatures say again? About the tikbalang? Ah, yes. Half-macho dancer and half-stallion. Maybe the joke was true, especially when you saw what Maliksi did next.

He bit the shred of lace, loosening his necktie (bestie, you good there?), unbuttoning some top buttons, and rolling up the sleeves of his collared white undershirt up to his elbows (consequently showing off his toned, veiny forearms—those lucky bridesmaids behind him nearly fainted). Honestly, you felt like you were about to lose your mind from embarrassment. With how tantalizing your guy best friend was being? Let our response be: San Pedro, kunin mo na ako. Was he doing all this to tease you? To rile you up?

Because damn it all, it was working. In your ten years of knowing Maliksi Armanaz, withstanding all his daily dirty jokes and flirtatious attempts, never had you seen him like this. So... wolfish. Ravenous. Like he was a man that hadn't been fed in years.

He stalked closer towards you, falling to his knees in front of your legs. Your gown had a long slit that extended up to an inch or two below where your left leg began—your best friend was eyeing his target already, knowing where to place the garter. Normally, you would never even wear something as revealing as this gown. It just wasn't your type, but Maliksi was the one who bought this for you for this specific occasion, so you had no choice. It was this or your pantulog he stole you in just hours ago. At first, you were confident in the gown. Now? You felt too... naked.

Somehow, in the heat of it all, you'd muted out the noise of the venue. Maliksi teasingly lifted your foot up, fingertips slyly grazing the thin shoe straps around your left foot—his calculated touch leaving fire in its trail. Once the garter had been successfuly inserted past your high-heeled stilettos, the man kneeling in front of you kept his hands to himself. Despite the fact that now there was absolutely zero skin-to-skin contact between you and this man, your body felt hotter than it ever was before as he expertly slid the lacy bit of cloth up your ankle at an agonizingly slow pace.

Maliksi's warm eyes had turned dark, his pupils blown, a tinge of red in them—of his true beast—while he maintained striking eye contact with you, pulling the garter up your calf with his teeth. Smoothly tugging... tugging... tugging. Tangina, it was like he was undressing you with his eyes alone; like he was telepathically telling you to keep your eyes open.

To keep your eyes on him, where he was knelt inbetween your legs, his hands intentionally locked on his back. Did you ever imagine this? Him between your legs? Maybe. Once or twice. But you never thought about it seriously; Maliksi dated girls left and right in the past.

His lips... his lips were so close... so close to your leg that you could feel the heat of his breath along with the lace. Were you about to die? Perhaps you already did. Maybe you were in heaven. Up... up... up... snap!

Suddenly, he stopped, grinning up at you mischievously and letting the elastic bounce back to the skin of your left knee.

"I'm not going any further, don't worry, babe," he whispered, noting that your eyes had become misty and glazed over. Internally, he grew worried. "That's enough." Did he think it was from discomfort? From you being uncomfortable? Bitch, no. It was the exact opposite. You had never been this turned on in your entire life.

You felt like your soul had left your body at that moment. Did you just have a heart attack? Was your blood pressure okay? Before you or Maliksi could stand, however, someone bellowed from the wedding sponsor tables.

"Higher! That's an order!"

Fucking hell, it was Maliksi's father who shouted. He wasn't in the huge tikbalang form you'd normally meet him in, but he was still very intimidating in his humanoid form, commanding attention and subservience wherever he went. You could tell where Maliksi got it from.

Instantly, the other guests—already half-drunk and wanting the spirit of partying to continue on—joined in.

"Higher! Higher!"

The host cheered, "You heard Señor Armanaz! Higher!"

Maliksi gave you a questioning look. Even if it was his father who spoke up, he still wouldn't do anything you didn't want. Well, you two made it this far; there was no point in getting embarrassed now. You bit the inside of your cheek, nodding. You probably couldn't erase the redness on your skin with how much you'd blushed from this night. It was as if the heat was tattooed onto your skin.

"Go on, Mal," you whispered to him, bending your torso down closer to his face, eyes half-lidded from want. "Finish what you started, babe."

With those sultry bedroom eyes he'd never once seen you show him before—plus you turning the tables with that familiar term of endearment, how could he refuse? Like a switch had been flipped inside him, he immediately complied, taking the frilly scrap of stretchy lace between his teeth once more, moving it further up to your thighs until where your high slit ended—centimeters below the warming juncture between your legs.

Your legs felt wobbly... boneless, as you stood up from the chair, the fabric of your gown cascading over where the lace sat securely on your upper left thigh. The party was still going strong even after you two finished the garter wearing tradition.

"'Atta boy! That's my son!" Señor Armanaz blazoned, standing up and raising his glass for a toast. "Cheers to the newlywed couple! May they last forever!"

You guys weren't the newlyweds, but it did sure feel like it. If the clan leader was hyped up, everyone was hyped up. Heck, the groom and the bride didn't mind one bit what had just transpired on their dance floor. In all the chaos, Maliksi took you out of the reception area and somewhere quieter. More private.

You would need to have a serious, urgent talk with your boy best friend.

》》》

You two silently sat on a stone bench in a gazebo somewhere in the reserved venue for the wedding, trying to cool down and get yourselves back together (at this point, you needed ice from that steamy, half-scandalous event you just went through). Here, there was no one else except for the chirping of crickets, the lush trees surrounding the area, and the golden fairy lights strewn all over the roof. Awkwardness was something you'd expected after what just happened, but somehow, you still felt comfort in this man's presence. For the past thirty minutes, both of you just stayed still, lost in your thoughts and reflecting.

"Mal?" you finally spoke up.

"... Hmm?"

"Ano tayo?"

"Whatever you want us to be."

Your fingers instinctively reached out for his, just like they always did when you were anxious. Sensing this, he grasped your hand and squeezed it reassuringly. Soothingly. He massaged the skin of your fingers, distracting you from your nervousness. It seemed like both nothing and everything changed between both of you. The gesture was the same, but so different at the same time.

"Mahal mo ako." It was not a question. It was a statement. A truth—one that you'd been too blind to see before. One that you only discovered while you stared into each other's eyes in that party not as best friends. You realized with a jolt in your heart what he really felt for you, and now, what you really felt for him. In those thirty minutes of silence, you knew. You just knew.

"Yes. I do."

"... Just as a best friend?" you probed.

"..."

Finally, you gazed into his eyes, previously so dark and full of hunger. Now? Just reluctant. Vulnerable. Open. Unsure of what to do next.

Seems like you had to be the one to take initiative tonight. Taking out your phone, you opened your music app and pressed play on a certain song. Ikaw at Ako by Johnoy Danao. You removed your heels (which were starting to blister your ankles and toes), then pulled him up to stand.

"Dance with me," you murmured, grabbing his arms to wrap them around your waist. He was stiff. Tense. What was he to do when the woman he's been pining after for so long let him hold her? All his gallantry and ability to romance disappeared out the window the moment you let him touch you so intimately.

You two weren't even waltzing. Just swaying. Slowly, you leaned your head on his broad chest, listening to the steady thump of his heart.

"... I love you," Maliksi admitted in the middle of it all, feeling like he was dreaming. Your head on his chest kept him grounded to reality, however. "More than anything in the universe. I fell for you ever since you patched me up when you were nineteen and I was a reckless drag racer who didn't have a purpose in life. 'Nung dinala mo ako pabalik sa Armanaz Tower on the verge of death. Simula noon, ikaw lang."

"I realized that," you smiled, reminiscing the old memory. You were just a broke college student that time, coming back to your dorm from making your group thesis at a classmate's house. Imagine your panic when you found a half-man, half-horse bleeding out by some bushes on the way home at night. Despite your fear and your little money (only enough to feed you for the week), you went out of your way to buy a first-aid kit at the nearest 7/11. It was scary, but you managed to mend the creature's wounds by the side of the road. When he was finally able to speak, turning fully human (which you admit, freaked you out initially), you arduously carried him back to his address—to his father and his clan, even if you had classes the very next morning. Because of your heroic deed of saving their precious heir, the tikbalang clan had become indebted to you: a teenage girl on the verge of a mental academic breakdown, just making her way through the cruel adult world. How old of a memory that was, you thought, yet you still recalled it in perfect detail. "Just a while ago."

"Ah." He swayed you gently.

"Lahat ng ito, plano mo?"

"... Yes," Maliksi fessed up. "Except for this part where we're here dancing in this belvedere. Wala sa plano ko. Gusto ko sanang magconfess doon sa may fountain para sweet, pero..."

You lifted your head off his chest, smiling at him with one brow raised, "You know, between both of us, you're supposed to be the spontaneous one. Planning isn't usually your thing."

"I know. It's a failure, huh?" Maliksi sighed.

"Nah." You shook your head, then suddenly locked lips with him. It was so fast and surprising he didn't even get the chance to return your first kiss. For once, you caught him off guard. You pecked him on the lips again. "It's not a failure."

"Wha—"

"I'm sorry for making you wait, Maliksi. Ten years. We're twenty-nine now, and only tonight do I realize how blind I've been. We've been going around in circles, wasting so much time. Ayoko nang mag-aksaya ng oras," you whispered guiltily against his lips. How could you have been so blind? Andaming nasayang na taon. Making up your mind, you told him, "Yes. Sige, I accept. I'll be your plus one."

The tikbalang was flustered and baffled from the kiss, as well as your revelation, "... But, you already are?"

"No, silly. I meant that I'll be your plus one for life. For as long as you'll have me," you laughed, now processing that you were currently dancing barefoot with your boy best friend and had just kissed him in a wedding you didn't even plan on going to. The universe had a mysterious way of doing things. "Guess I'm the spontaneous one now, huh?"

Maliksi was tongue-tied. "Seryoso ka ba? Is... Is this a marriage proposal?"

"Whatever you want it to be," you echoed his words back to him. "Best friend, plus one, girlfriend, wife—mmpf!"

He kissed you so hard your lips bruised. After an impromptu makeout session which was definitely more in character for Maliksi, you both pulled away, panting heavily in search for air, still desperate for passion. He cupped your cheeks, giving you a sweet, featherlight Eskimo kiss.

"You're missing one more title."

"Hm? What do you mean, Mal?"

"Love of my life." He kissed you again, this time lifting you off your feet and spinning you around (his sneaky right hand was resting on your bum, too, giving it a tight squeeze). You know in the Princess Diaries where the main character's foot just... pops whenever the prince charming kissed her? Yeah, that happened to you on that humid summer night. This was right. You two were meant to be together. Everything was falling into place.

The bungalow you reserved for your Batangas vacation leave ended up being the site of your very eventful honeymoon with the Prince of the Tikbalang (with his libido, it wasn't that difficult to continue where you'd left off in the garter toss; that scrap of lace came off your leg the same way it went on). Actually, nauna pa ang honeymoon sa actual wedding (it was definitely spontaneous). Right after your confession in that alcove, you two went to Maliksi's father to ask for his blessing (which he gladly gave, cackling and saying that it took you long enough) before you guys went driving off to Batangas that night. You and Mal indeed had lots and lots of fun in that resort (I'll let you imagine the rest). More beautiful memories were made from that point on—this time, not just as best friends.

All that and your small, intimate wedding occurred in early April. Just when you thought that it'd be impossible to fulfill Maliksi's life goal of having a baby within the year (nine months of pregnancy meant that the earliest you'd give birth would be January next year), the impossible happened.

Exactly thirty-two weeks later, on New Year's Eve, the Armanaz herd welcomed one prince and two new princesses into the world. Triplets who were instantly adored by everyone in the clan.

Señor Armanaz had never been happier, and so were you and your husband. Your best friend. The love of your life. Your forever plus one.

Maybe being spontaneous wasn't so bad after all.

Taglist: @belladaises @binibiningbabaylan @4kodzuk3n @sparklingmallow @severuslovebot @holyshxtangel @marinac15 @space-flamingo @pippethealien @kashasenpai @disappointmentpastry @hornehlittleweeblet2 @seijohoe @monimiin @ibelievein2dmensupremacy @tinybonksharkcop @methehipster @banisuoh @genshin-idiot @lemonnie-kimmie

#trese #trese 2021 #trese netflix #maliksi #maliksi x reader #tikbalang #trese fic #x reader #trese x reader #thera.writes

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5-seconds-of-bucky · 3 years ago

Text

Kisses

A/N: Okay, so let’s pretend that Bucky didn’t blip 😉 That is the job I am trusting you with as you read this, dear reader (especially during a certain part, but you’ll get there when you get there) Also, please ignore my lack of original concepts, as I am well aware that I used this similar concept for a Shawn fic a while back (I promise this version is quite different and much better written) Anyways, happy reading! :)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem Avenger!Reader

Summary: Different types of kisses throughout you and Bucky’s relationship

Word Count: 4.3k+ (oof, much longer than I intended. Sorry, friends!)

Warnings: Swearing, reader gets stabbed, mentions of blood, mentions of pregnancy, (brief) mention of death (nobody actually dies)

---

The First Kiss

It was quiet as the two of you walked down the hallway, save for the occasional sounds of Bucky’s boots scuffing on the linoleum. Whether it was because you didn’t want to wake up anyone else in the compound this late at night or because there was nothing left to say, you weren’t sure.

After months of longing looks and nervous conversations (and a bit of pushing from Steve), Bucky finally found the courage to ask you out on a date. He made it a whole ordeal, even bringing flowers when he asked if you wanted to grab some sandwiches from a nearby deli and eat them at the park. You would be lying if you said you hadn’t been waiting to hear those words for a while now and told him you’d be happy to. Your shy smile made Bucky’s insides melt and he found himself mirroring one back at you.

Now, your third date--a midnight hike through a trail you suggested--was coming to an end.

“Can I walk you back to your room?” Bucky broke the silence, chewing his lip nervously as he awaited your answer.

“Your room is right across the hall from mine. Aren’t you going that way anyways?” you giggled.

“Let me be a gentleman,” he insisted as you rounded the corner of the hallway that led to your rooms.

“I mean, how can I say no to that?”

“I don’t think you can.” His signature smirk and charm had you melting and you stared at the floor in hopes that he wouldn’t see the obvious ways he affected you.

The two of you arrived at your door almost too soon, and you found yourself wishing that your night together wasn’t over quite yet.

“I had a great time with you, Bucky.” You turned to fully face him, looking up shyly into his eyes.

He took one of your hands with his, bringing it up to his lips. “I did too, Y/N. We should do it again.”

“The date or getting eaten alive by mosquitoes?”

“The mosquitos were endearing but I was more so thinking of another date.”

“I’d like that.” You squeezed his hand before letting go, pushing your door open and taking a step forwards before Bucky’s hand grabbed your wrist. He gently spun you back towards him, his charm suddenly replaced by a more timid look.

“Um, can I . . . would you let me . . .” he glanced down to your lips. “Can I kiss you?”

You didn’t respond, simply placing your free hand on his cheek and leaning towards him. His hands both went to wrap around your waist as your lips brushed and your other hand came to rest on his chest. The kiss was slow and soft. There was no need to rush as you stood there in the hallway at 1:45 in the morning, wrapped around each other like you couldn’t let go.

You finally broke away, feeling Bucky’s chest steadily rise beneath your palm as you calmed your own breathing. You tried to play it cool on the outside, though you were screaming with glee internally.

“Goodnight, Bucky.” You slowly slipped out of his grasp, a twinkle in your eyes that hadn’t been there before.

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

The Welcome Home Kiss

Your eyelids seemed to droop more by the second as you tried to keep yourself awake. The caffeine you had earlier could only do so much to curb the sleepiness that was settling in your bones. The fact that you were sitting in your bed at the moment probably wasn’t helping, but you were too tired to move.

Waiting up for Bucky seemed like a good idea until it was 2:30 in the morning and he still wasn’t back. He would probably scold you when he got back, saying how sleep deprivation didn’t look good on you, but you didn’t care. You hadn’t seen your boyfriend in a week and you missed him. If you had to pull an all-nighter to do so, so be it.

The sound of footsteps outside your door pulled you from your thoughts. It only took a second to recognize the familiar clunking of Bucky’s combat boots, causing you to perk up as you waited for him to peek into your room.

The footsteps paused outside your door for a moment and you held your breath in anticipation. The door didn’t open though, and the footsteps became fainter, presumably walking away from your room.

Does he think I’m asleep? You frowned. Usually, he at least opened the door to check in on you.

You pulled the blanket off your body, getting out of bed and padding out of your room towards Bucky’s. You did your best to stay quiet as you twisted the door knob in case he was already asleep. It wasn’t uncommon for him to pass out as soon as his head met the pillow after a mission. Lord knows he needed the rest.

You were met with an empty room when you peeked your head in. You almost left, assuming that your excited mind had been playing tricks on you, when you caught sight of light peeking out from beneath the bathroom door. A smile crept its way onto your face and you closed the door behind you, sitting on the edge of his bed and waiting for him to come out.

A few more minutes passed and you debated just letting yourself fall asleep there when the bathroom door swung open. Bucky stepped out, wearing sweatpants and a t-shirt that you had tried to steal on multiple occasions. He didn’t notice you until he was almost to his bed and lifted his gaze from the floor, jumping back with a “shit!” when he saw you.

“What are you doing up, doll?” he asked once he regained his composure.

“Waiting for you,” you replied simply, pulling him into a hug as soon as he sat down next to you. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too.”

You pulled back just enough to press your lips against his, relishing the languid movements of his lips against yours at the absurd hour of the morning. His arms traveled down to your hips as yours moved to wrap around his neck.

“Welcome home, sergeant.”

The Fevered Forehead Kiss

You were burning up.

The sweat drenched shirt you were wearing was sticking to your body and the fact that Bucky, AKA: the walking furnace, was laying next to you, wasn’t helping in the slightest. His arm was slung over your back, which made your situation that much worse. He seemed to be sleeping peacefully: a rarity with him. Moving out of bed was sure to wake him up but you really needed to change your shirt.

You sighed, deciding that you needed to get into some dryer clothes if you had any hopes of falling back asleep before the sun rose. Prying yourself from Bucky’s grip as carefully as possible, you swung your feet over the edge of the bed and stood up. A wave of dizziness overcame you, forcing you to brace yourself against the wall. A quiet groan escaped your lips when the dizziness started getting worse rather than fading away. Your vision started to tunnel: a surefire sign that you were going to pass out.

A pair of arms wrapped around you and Bucky’s face came into view. He gently eased you back onto the bed, supporting your back as he layed you back down. You felt a hand brush over your cheek as the dizziness faded and your senses returned.

Bucky frowned at how warm your cheek felt beneath his touch. You were feeling a little warm when he carried you to bed after a group game night--of which you had fallen asleep halfway through--but he didn’t think much of it then. He smoothed some hair back from your forehead and rested his lips there to better judge your temperature.

“Shit, doll. You’re burning up,” he murmured.

“It’s really hot in here.” Sleep was clawing at you but you were uncomfortable beyond belief. “I need to change my shirt.”

Bucky silently helped you out of the shirt you were wearing, throwing it in the hamper before shuffling over to the dresser to get you another one. He grabbed the first one he saw, making his way back over to where you were laying and helping you into it.

“Get some sleep, sweetheart,” he said as he pressed his lips to your forehead once more. “I’ll be right here.”

The “Shut Up!” Kiss

The Quinjet was filled with chatter as the team headed back to the compound after a successful mission. You managed to get the intel you needed and nobody got hurt in the process--well, nobody except you, but no one needed to know that.

You managed to get yourself stabbed in the right bicep when you were making your way back to the jet. It wasn’t horribly severe, it just hurt like a bitch. You were quick to take care of the Hydra agent and keep moving, knowing the team was going to want to get back to the compound as quickly as possible to celebrate. Missions without some kind of injury were a rarity with you guys.

You just assumed that you’d wait until you got to the compound and stitch yourself up there without anyone knowing. Seemed easy enough of a plan, right?

“Hey, doll,” Bucky said as he sat down in the seat to your left with a kiss to your cheek.

“Hey, babe.” You leaned your head on his shoulder, snuggling into the warmth radiating off of him.

“I’m so ready to get in bed.”

“You said it.”

You were able to block out the pain coming from your arm for a moment, allowing yourself to relax in your boyfriend’s presence instead. That was, until Bucky’s arm came up to wrap around your shoulders. You winced when his hand brushed over your wound, cursing internally when you felt him stiffen up next to you. Of course he was going to find out.

He pulled his hand back, seeing it covered in red. “Is that blood?”

“Yes but that doesn’t matter right now. You know what does matter? Getting to bed cause you look-” You sat up, rubbing your hand over the wound yourself, finding that there was significantly more blood there now than there was earlier.

“You are literally bleeding right now!” He raised his voice slightly and you glared at him, not wanting to draw attention to the situation.

“I know but-”

“I love you but if you shut the fuck up right now, Y/N-”

“Buck-”

Bucky grabbed your face, quickly bringing your lips to his. “You are going to stop talking and let me take care of this, okay? No ifs, ands, or buts. I don’t wanna hear ‘em.” His voice was stern but you could see the concern in his eyes.

“Okay,” you sighed, dropping your eyes to your lap.

“Now let me see your arm so we can fix you up.”

The Top of the Head Kiss

“You don’t think it’s too soon, do you?” Bucky asked Steve as they sat in the kitchen. It was early on a Thursday morning, when everyone else was either asleep or doing an early morning workout. The two super soldiers had already finished their daily morning run and decided to enjoy a cup of coffee in the kitchen before the rest of the team showed up.

“Buck, I thought you were going to propose after the fifth date. You’ve been together for almost two years. I think it’s about time,” Steve answered with a chuckle, enjoying the bashful look on his best friend’s face.

“I just wanna do it right, you know?” Bucky bit the inside of his cheek as he contemplated the right way to propose for what was probably the thousandth time. “I know she doesn’t want something that’s so romantic it’s cheesy but I want it to be special.”

“I’m sure you’ll figure it out.” Steve patted Bucky’s arm as he got up to put his mug in the sink. “You know she’s going to say ‘yes’ no matter what.”

“Yeah, I know. It’s just scary trying to-”

“Morning boys.” Your groggy voice rang through the kitchen, causing Steve and Bucky to immediately shut up.

“You’re up early, sweetheart,” Bucky commented as you made your way over to him.

“Thought I’d be productive today.” You ran a hand through his hair, still unruly from his run, before placing your lips on top of his head. “Whatcha’ guys talking about?”

Steve and Bucky shared a panicked look. “Uhh . . . super secret boy band stuff.” Bucky’s hands made their way to your hips, fingers messing with the hem of your shirt.

“Ohh, okay. Let me just grab my breakfast and then I’ll let you plan your little boyband stuff.” You ruffled Bucky’s hair and busied yourself with making a bagel, winking at him before leaving the kitchen.

“You better hurry up,” Steve chuckled. “Cause she’s gonna figure out what you’re doing soon if you don’t.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Bucky grumbled. “I’m working on it.”

The Passionate Kiss

“I’m so hungry!” you complained as you took your suit off, having just returned from a mission. You weren’t able to eat lunch earlier and your stomach was making sure you knew just how much it did not appreciate that.

“We stocked up the fridge yesterday so you should be good to go,” Bucky said from his place on the edge of the bed. His eyes stayed glued on you as you slipped on a pair of shorts and one of his Henleys.

You smiled brightly at his words and made your way over to him, giving a quick peck to his temple and grabbing his hand. “Care to join me?”

“Course, doll.” He stood up and followed you out of your shared room, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you into his side as you walked to the kitchen. Everything was going according to plan.

The mission you just came back from? It was fake. You didn’t know that of course, but Bucky had Steve and Tony help him set it up so he could get ready for what he was planning on doing tonight without you either finding out or getting overly suspicious. What was he planning on doing, exactly? Proposing. He was finally going to propose tonight.

You and Steve were sent out on an undercover “mission” in which you had to pretend to be a couple in order to attend a ball and gather intel on a possible new Hydra branch. Bucky wasn’t quite sure how Tony managed to set the whole thing up, but he decided not to bother himself with the logistics. There were more important issues at hand.

He patted his pocket as you parted from his side to grab plates. Yup, the ring was still there.

“Why don’t I get the plates and you grab what you want from the fridge, sweetheart?” he suggested.

“Oh no, I got the plates. You grab whatever you think is good. I’ll eat whatever.” You took two plates out of the cabinet and made your way to the table, your back to the fridge.

This is going to be harder than he anticipated.

In his debate to decide the perfect way to propose to you, Bucky somehow came to the conclusion that the best way to ask you to be his future wife was by spelling out “Will you marry me?” on the refrigerator with a bunch of magnets. A picture of the two of you from when you first started dating was placed next to it with a heart magnet, and Bucky was pretty proud of himself for the idea. He forgot, of course, that you could be a little oblivious sometimes when it came to noticing things.

No need to stress about it. She’ll notice eventually.

Bucky grabbed some things from the fridge, microwaving a few before bringing them over to the table and sitting down in the seat next to yours. “Bon appetit!”

“¡Muchas gracias, señor!” You smiled, already dumping a few things onto your plate and digging in.

“That was a completely different language,” he chuckled.

“And?”

He shrugged his shoulders. “Tell me ‘bout the mission.”

“It was alright,” you said through a mouthful of food. You swallowed before continuing. “I don’t know why they sent Steve with me instead of you. You’d think that since we had to pretend to be a married couple, they’d have me go with my boyfriend.” Damn, Tony really didn’t try to be that subtle, did he?

“Yeah, strange . . .”

“Anyways, it was pretty easy. I didn’t even have to go to a debriefing!” You put some more food on your plate, noticing that Bucky had barely touched his. “You okay? You’ve hardly eaten.” You motioned towards his plate.

“Hmm? Oh, I ate before you got home so I’m not that hungry.” It wasn’t entirely a lie. He ate, just not a lot to be considered a meal. Nerves.

“Uh huh.” You gave him a weird look as you took a bite of food. “You’re up to something.”

“Me? Up to something? Never.” He watched you finish your food and sit back with a satisfied groan.

“Okay, sure.” You gave him a playful glare as he took your plates and got up to put them in the sink. You grabbed the leftover food and containers, and put them in the sink, nudging Bucky’s hip with yours.

“You trying to start something, doll?” he asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Maybe I am.” You looked back at him, completely missing the colorful magnets on the fridge yet again as you opened it and put the food back inside. Your hand caught the ‘W’ when you tried to take your hand off of the refrigerator handle, causing it to fall off and clink on the ground.

“Ill you marry me?” you read off the fridge, a confused laugh escaping your mouth. “What?”

Bucky playfully shook his head. He walked over to you, picking up the fallen magnet and putting it back in its place. He leaned against the fridge as he watched you read the phrase again.

“Buck, are you being serious?” Your eyes lit up, though there was a hint of hesitance in your voice.

“I don’t know, you tell me.” He pulled the black velvet case out of his pocket, getting down to one knee.

Your hand slapped over your mouth, trying to contain the squeal of joy threatening to jump out. “Bucky!”

He flipped the lid open. “Y/N Y/L/N, will you marry me?”

You bit your lips together, nodding your head vigorously. “Yeah. I think I’ll marry you, Bucky Barnes.”

Bucky stood up and you grabbed his face, crashing your lips onto his. It was messy but perfect for the moment. Your heart was beating a million times a minute but you paid it no mind as you tried to pull Bucky even closer.

“I love you,” you said once you pulled away for breath. Your eyes watered as you tried to keep tears from falling.

He leaned back in to slot his lips between yours again. “I love you too.”

The Relieved Kiss

Bucky wasn’t sure what exactly to expect when he rushed out with the team to find Captain Marvel lowering down a giant ship in front of the compound, but nothing could have prepared him for what he was about to see.

He’d been a mess since Thanos snapped away half the universe. Unbeknownst to him, you were up in space when the battle happened, leaving him to assume that you had dusted away with the millions of others and left him behind to pick himself up.

While Bucky suffered in his own personal hell down on Earth, you were stranded in a broken spaceship with Tony and Nebula. Up until your rescue, you were sure that you were going to die up there, staring into the void of space. You recorded a message for Bucky after Tony recorded his for Pepper in hopes that it would someday make it back to him. Then Captain Marvel came to save you and bring you back to Earth; to bring you back home.

Bucky ran up with Steve to help Tony, supporting the man who looked like he’d been to hell and back a few times. He stepped aside once Pepper ran up, choking on his own breath when he looked back to the steps of the ship.

You held onto Nebula’s arm as you slowly stumbled down the stairs. Bucky let out a sob at the sight of you, immediately rushing up to help you. You felt so fragile in his arms and it took everything in him to not collapse to the ground in shock, not sure if it was relief that you were alive or horror at your condition

He held you to his chest as tightly as he could once you made it to solid ground, his vibranium arm holding you up by your waist while his flesh hand held your head to his chest.

“Oh my god,” was all he could say as he stood there, body shaking as he cried

“Hey, I’m okay.” Your hand shook as it came up to weakly pat his shoulder. He could tell you were completely out of it: eyes distant and mind barely there. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw someone approaching, ready to help get you to med bay.

He pressed his lips to the crown of your head, gently rocking you back and forth in his arms. “You’re alive.”

You tried to pull back in his grip, forcing him to loosen it slightly. “I love you.” You leaned up to kiss his lips, though it ended up being more of a brush of your lips than an actual kiss.

“I love you too, sweetheart.” He kissed your hairline, scared that kissing your lips would steal more oxygen away--something you desperately needed more of in your system right now. “You’re gonna be okay.”

The “Holy Shit!” Kiss

You weren’t sure how much longer you could keep it a secret. You were sure he would’ve figured it out by now: the sticks in the trash, the sudden avoidance of certain foods you would usually never pass up, the second heartbeat that now accompanied your own.

It wasn’t that you didn’t want him to know--you had actually been trying for a baby for a while now--you just weren’t sure how to tell him. Is this how he felt before proposing?

The opening of your bedroom door interrupted your thoughts. You were met with the sight of your husband shrugging off his jacket when you turned around. He cut his hair recently. Something about it being “too hot for this shit.”

“Why are you wearing a jacket? It’s June,” you giggled.

“The air conditioning is fucking blasting and I got cold while I was doing my paper work, if you must know,” he said, laying the jacket on the chair you were standing next to. He left a quick kiss on your lips, leaving you craving for more.

“You’re crazy.”

“I’m crazy? I think you have the wrong guy here, doll.”

“No, I don’t think I do.” Your hand caught his, tangling your fingers together. Should I just tell him now?

“You keep thinking that. Steve asked me to help train some agents here in a few minutes so I gotta go now.” Another quick kiss and a wink and he started making his way out the door.

“Wait, Buck!” He turned around, almost out the door. “I need to tell you something real quick.” You motioned for him to come back over.

He took a few steps forward, a confused look on his face as you grabbed both his hands in yours. He could hear your heart rate picking up, which only served to worry him.

“So, I was wondering if you would be free to go to the hospital about eight months from now?” You gave a small smile, hoping he’d catch on quickly. “I’m not sure what the exact date is going to be quite yet but I’d really appreciate it if you could be there.”

Bucky frowned. What business did you have at the hospital that you scheduled nine months ahead of time? “Babe, what are you talking about?”

“I think we’re going to need to find our own place too. We’ll need a lot more space.” He still wasn’t catching on. “I doubt having three people in here would be super pleasant.”

He frowned even more and you simply giggled, bringing his hands to your stomach. “I’m pregnant, Buck.”

“Ohh!” He let out a sigh of relief, glad that that was all you were worried about. “Had me worried for a second there, doll.”

It was your turn to frown. “What?”

“From the way you started, I was worried you were dying and this was some sadistic way of telling me.”

“Nope. Quite the opposite, actually.”

“Was wondering when you were going to tell me.” His thumbs rubbed circles into your belly.

“You knew?!”

“I heard the heartbeat weeks ago. Took me a while to figure out what it was but I figured you’d tell me when you were ready.”

“Damn your supersoldier hearing.” You leaned your head on top of his shoulder, letting out a small groan.

“Holy shit though,” His voice was soft as he rested his chin on your head. “we’re having a baby!”

“Yeah,” You lifted your head up slowly to see the biggest grin on your husband’s face. “we’re having a baby.”

A hand came up to cup your cheeks as he leaned into your lips, kissing you deeply and trying not to cry. “Holy shit!”

---

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thewritetofreespeech · 4 years ago

Note

Can you do a scenario Obey Me were MC has a accidental nip slip that she doesnt notice, but the brothers do.

For the sake of an even playing field, all 7 boys will be reacting to the same scenario: coming to wake MC up in the morning for school only for their titty to be half out.

Lucifer

His knock was polite, but stern. Three short raps, followed by a long pause, before he let himself in. “[Y/N], I have to insist you get up now. You will be late for classes.”

You groan and cruel further into yourself under the covers. Trying to hold on to your sleep, but it was already slipping away through your fingers. With a huff you uncoil yourself and come out from under the covers. “Alright. I’m up.” You announce. Awake but still dreamy eyed as you rubbed the sleep from them.

When your eyes refocus, you see Lucifer staring at you. His face it’s normal placid expression, but definitely staring. “What’s wrong?” You ask. Was your hair some sort of crazy way?

The demon smirked and walked over to you. You blush as he came close to your bed and bent over, rebuttoning your pajama top that had come open in the middle of the night and left your left side exposed. How embarrassing?!

“Perhaps I should come wake you up more often.” He said with a sultry smirk. “Or at least not on a day when you have school. Now, I must insist you get ready. Our model exchange student can’t be late for their day.” He gave you a peck on the cheek and saw his way out. You have to wonder if he was really going to ‘wake you up’ on Saturday…..

Mammon

The loud sound of your door being flung open startled you from your sleep, and practically out of bed. “Hey, hey, hey! Time to get up sleepy head!”

“Mammon!” You growl from under the covers. “What the hell are you doing?!”

“I came to wake you up. Lucifer told me to make sure you’re ready for school. Even Belphie beat you downstairs. Come on. Chop chop!”

You groan and fling your covers off. Sitting up to scratch your head. Hopefully your day was more peaceful after this.

“[Y-Y-Y/N]! What the hell?!” You look over at the demon who had gone from horribly confident to horribly red & stammering in a matter of moments. “Do you always sleep like that?!”

You look down, trying to see what the big deal was, and realizing your chest was exposed. “N-No! It just came off in my sleep! Who are you to judge anyway?! You sleep naked!”

“Yeah! But not with anyone around!”

“You’re not supposed to be around!” You pick up a pillow and toss it at him, which he easily dodged, before shouting, “get out!” The demon did as he was told and scampered off, like a rabbit with his tail on fire.

He avoided you for the rest of the day. Making eye contact but fervently darting his gaze away. Mammon finally came up to you after dinner to apologize, and promised that if he had to wake you up again, he would knock first.

Levi

You were dreaming about pancakes when there was a knock at your door. Quiet, at first. Almost like someone’s knuckles barely touched the door. Then they knocked again, seeming to realize that the first few knocks were no good, knocking with confidence.

“[Y/N]-chan? Are you awake?” You open your eyes from your blanket nest to see Levi poking his head in. “It’s time for school.”

“Oh…yeah…” You yawn after that. Cutting off whatever else you were going to say after that. You shouldn’t have let Levi talk you into watching an anime marathon with him. You’d only gone to sleep a few hours ago. “What time is it?”

The demon looked down at his watch while you got out of bed, and when he looked up his face was completely red.

“[Y-Y-Y/N]! Y-Your….! Ah! I’m so sorry!!”

You blink in a start as Levi slammed the door as he ran away. You wonder what happened, but then catch sight of yourself in the mirror. Your top half exposed. You blush yourself at realizing why he had taken off, but get over the mortification quickly as you had to get ready for school.

Poor Levi couldn’t come near you for several days after that without turning beet red or becoming a stammering idiot. You have to assure him several times that it was really ok, and that your honor was intact, but he promised never to come get your up for school ever again.

Satan

There was a sharp rap at your door that awoke you from your slumber.

“[Y/N], are you awake?”

“Satan?” You question. Hearing his voice from the other side of the door. What was he doing here so early?

Seeming to sense your question, the fourth eldest brother replied in kind. “Lucifer sent me to get you. He was concerned you would be late for school since you weren’t down at breakfast yet. May I come in?”

You chuckle lightly at his polite request and tell him he could come in. Your arms stretching over your head as the door opened and the blonde walked in. “Ah good. You are awake. I was concerned that…uh….um….”

You blink curiously as Satan seemed to lose his train of thought. Unusual for him, as he was typically such a word smith, so you had to ask. “Satan? Is something wrong?”

“I ah…ahem!” The demon cleared his throat. Covering his face with his hand, hiding his blush, as he looked away. “I uh…apologize. I should have given you more time to get ready before I let myself in. Or at least properly dressed.”

Your brow furrowed and you look down to see your pajama top open and blush. Quickly closing it with an apology. “I’m so sorry!”

“It’s...quite alright. I’ll uh…ahem…leave you to get ready now that I know your awake. I’ll see you at school.”

The demon, who normally walked with such purpose and confidence, seemed to stumble in his walk out of your room. Seeming to want to stay, but fighting the urge and forcing himself to leave. Apparently after he had left, he’d gotten into a fight with Mammon and threw him into a wall. You suppose that energy had to go somewhere.

Asmo

A light, delicate rapping on your door woke you up from your peaceful dream about cupcakes and French lattes. The sound was whimsical. Almost like a bird. After that, the smell of roses filled the room as the door opened and the Avatar of Lust appeared.

“Gooood morning darling~!” Asmodeus cheered as he let himself in. Practically gliding across the room and perching himself on the edge of your bed. “Wake up sleeping beauty! Classes will be starting soon, and we don’t want to be late. You need to get up, so you can get ready and look your best.”

You groan softly, but come out from under the covers as requested. He was right. It was time to get ready.

“Aaahh~! [Y/N]! You naughty thing. Tempting me this early in the morning.” You blink the last big of sleep from your gaze, and look down to see where his was trained. You yip as you realize he was staring at your exposed breast, and smacked his hand away when it inched closer.

“Asmodeus!”

The androgenous demon giggled at your scolding, but pulled his hand away in surrender. “Sorry, sorry. I was only kidding.” You have to wonder if he was only ‘kidding’ now that he got rejected. “Let’s just keep this our little secret, ok? I don’t want my brothers getting super jealous about seeing our beautiful [Y/N] in their morning glory. They’ll be banging down the door every morning to get a peek.” Asmo then winked, leaning in to steal a quick peck on your cheek, before he jumped up. “I’ll be waiting for you downstairs~! Unless you need help getting ready. I have too good hands and a lot of enthusiasm for a chore like that.”

The demon giggled brightly all the way out of the room as your tossed pillows at him like rose petals to show him the door.

Beel

The knock on your door was loud, though you could tell not intentionally. It was more a factor of the large fist knocking on it, rather than the force, of the largest of the seven brothers coming to wake you.

“[Y/N]?” You heard Beel’s voice from under your blanket nest. Smiling soft at the gentle way he’d come to wake you up. He must have a lot of experience with Belphie. “Lucifer asked me to come get you up for school. I brought you some breakfast. I didn’t want you to miss out.” You hear what you assume is a tray being sat on your desk. “Some of it didn’t make it all the way here, but most of it did! I tried to keep your favorites safe for you. Mammon wanted the last Hellfire sausage, but I got it for you.”

Your soft smile increased as you pictured the bright, sun like smile on the gentle giants face. Proud of himself for getting it and keeping himself from eating it for you. “Thanks Beel,” you tell him. Coming out from under your covers to see that smiling face in person.

You see it for a moment before his face feel. His eyes averting away from you, and his cheeks turning around as red as his carrot top. “Uh..[Y/N]…your top is kind of falling off.”

You look down and gasp, quickly covering ourself up. “I’m sorry!!”

“That’s ok.” Beel said with a soft laugh. “It happens. Plus, you’ve seen me with my shirt off all the time. It’s not a big deal.”

“It’s not exactly the same….” You mutter quietly into your blanket.

Beel just laughed jovially again, and came over to pat your head. “Come on. Your breakfast is getting cold. I’ll leave so you can eat and get ready. Do you want me to walk you to first period when you’re done?” You nodded into your blankets this time. “Ok! I’ll meet you in the lobby when you’re done.”

With another big smile, your big guy left. Letting you change and enjoy your breakfast, with Hellfire sausage.

Belphie

“Oy…[Y/N]….wake up….”

“Mhmp….Belphie?” Your eyes crack open as he gently shook you. When had he come into your room? You hadn’t heard him knock, or even the door open. Had he just let himself in? “What are you doing here?”

“Stupid Lucifer told me to come get you up for school.” He told you. “I don’t know why. I’m not good at waking people up. I’m barely awake myself.” His statement was punctuated with a long yawn.

You sleepily chuckle and sit up. “Well, you are up. So you’re doing better than me.”

His droopy eyes were looking at you, or perhaps more specifically in your direction. He seemed to be looking at something totally other than your face, and you were about to ask him what when he said, “your boob is sticking out.” Pointing for affect.

You look down to where he was pointing and squeal. Closing your pajama top tight with both hands. “Belphegor! Don’t stare!”

“Why not? It’s nothing haven’t seen before. Remember when your top came off at the beach last summer?”

“That is not something I want to remember right now! And it is not the same! Get out!”

The Sloth demon picked at his ear in annoyance of your yelling, but gave a soft ‘yeah, yeah’ as he saw himself out. Mission accomplished.

He doesn’t seem to understand why you were annoyed with him for the rest of the day, but still made an effort to apologize after a while so you would talk to him again. Only he was allowed to do the silent treatment.

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oreoambitions · 3 years ago

Text

Previous Draft // Ao3

The courthouse doors open with a bang, and the sound of conversation tumbles out of the atrium and onto the courthouse steps. Security flanks Lena on either side, two uniformed bodies ahead to break the crowd, two behind to keep it from closing in around her. Lena keeps her head up, confident in the knowledge that she will appear to take this all in stride. In truth, she crosses the atrium in a sort of daze.

There are moments in a person’s life when time sticks and stutters, moments that linger beyond their natural boundaries, that creep and haunt and niggle at the mind. As she steps out through the courthouse doors, she understands that this is one of them. Time hesitates for her even as she passes into the chaos of lights and cameras outside, towards the waiting crowd of journalists shouting over one another in a fashion not conducive to anyone’s questions ever actually getting answered.

For an instant she’s back on the witness stand: the defense is demanding Supergirl’s name, and the judge is not intervening; the words I plead the fifth are heavy on her lips. That moment has passed, and it hasn’t. There will be ripples. All Lena can do about it now is try to keep those ripples to a minimum, for Kara’s sake; she must say nothing to anyone until they’ve had a chance to talk alone.

“Ms. Luthor.”

The officer at her side encourages her forward, not quite touching her back with one hovering hand. Lena realizes with a start that she’s paused halfway down the courthouse steps. At the bottom, Supergirl drops out of the sky in a dramatic, press pleasing fashion. That soft warm smile is another echo of the courtroom, and Lena is reminded that Kara intentionally slipped out of the courthouse another way and circled back for the cameras. Lena has, rather uncharacteristically, committed a critical error in a critical moment, and now Kara is covering for her with theatrics.

It’s working. The cameras turn on Kara as Lena makes it down the last few steps and into her waiting embrace.

“I’m sorry,” she begins, half stumbling as Kara pulls her close, closer than usual, one hand hot at the back of her neck.

Kara turns her shoulder to shield Lena from the bulk of the cameras. “Not here,” she murmurs, so low that Lena is almost not certain she’s heard it. And then Kara pulls back, not quite far enough, and Lena is acutely and self-consciously aware of the sound of camera shutters snapping all around them, the closeness of Kara’s body, the gut wrenching feeling that the eyes of the nation are on them and the stage lights are all lit up and she doesn’t know her lines.

The judge should have intervened. Her mind keeps catching on that point, on the heavy pause in the courtroom, Kara’s expressionless face, the pounding of her own heart, the irrelevance of the question. It feels as though if she stays in that moment long enough, pictures it clearly enough, the judge will step in and this story will play out another way.

Time, of course, does not work like that. It stutters and sticks only in her mind, while in the real world the press clamors and Kara’s cape flutters in the quickening wind.

“I’m so proud of you,” Kara is saying, her voice pitched so that the waiting journalists might catch words that, God willing, sound hollow to Lena’s ears only. “You were amazing in there.”

Lena is thinking about what the headlines are going to say tomorrow. Luthor and Super: Partners in More Than Crimefighting. Or perhaps, Luthor Makes False Marriage Claim on Witness Stand, Investigation to Follow.

Kara cups Lena’s face with one hand, and she snaps back to reality. She has about half a breath to catch up with what’s happening before Kara is closing the distance between them, and she hates to be a walking cliche, but oh. This is not how she has imagined their first kiss might go - not that she’s ready to admit to anyone except maybe Sam that she’s imagined their first kiss at all - and for a sickening second she feels nothing but regret. But then Kara’s lips are on hers, softer than her imagination has ever accounted for, and Lena is melting into her, kissing her back just at the edge of what might be considered chaste.

It’s an act, of course. If Lena’s heart flutters where she knows perfectly well Kara can hear it, can feel it, that’s just the nerves of the whole situation. Kara is, after all, kissing her on the mouth right there in front of God and everybody, shutters clicking all around them, reporters laughing and cheering in the background. It’s not unreasonable to feel a little something; her secret is still safe.

When Kara breaks the kiss, Lena chases after her mouth, and not for show. There’s that soft smile again, lipstick a little smudged, and perhaps she’s imagining things but Kara’s eyes seem warmer than they did before.

Kara drops a second kiss onto Lena’s forehead. “Can I take you home?” she asks, her voice still pitched for the journalists on the steps.

“Please,” Lena replies.

She tucks herself back into Kara’s chest as strong arms close around her. If anyone asks, it’s for the cameras. There’s a car waiting for her, and a driver who will have to be well compensated for the waste of his time, but it’s better if the press sees that she and Supergirl are leaving together, isn’t it? And nothing could be more memorable, more pressworthy, than flight.

And, Lena thinks, it’s better because, selfishly, she wants to prolong this moment of closeness. She wants to soak it all in: Kara’s smell, the brush of her hair across Lena’s cheek, the preparatory breath before takeoff. This is the moment Lena wishes would slow down for her, just this last moment when she can imagine to herself that what happened in the courtroom was a bad dream of little consequence, and that nothing between her and Kara will ever have to change.

///

Kara does not take Lena home. They fly instead over the wide arc of National City’s suburbs and into the foothills, and from there a little further still until they’ve reached the mountains above the city. Kara deposits them in a valley on the leeward side of a low peak dotted half with shrubbery and half with scraggled conifers, the names of which Lena has to admit she does not know. She rubs feeling and warmth back into her arms and resists the urge to ask where they are while Kara paces, the agitation and anxiety in the lines of her body a clear departure from the soft warmth on display outside the courthouse. When she rounds on Lena, it feels like the inevitable fruition of Lena’s mistakes.

“You told them we were married? Lena!”

“Technically I didn’t use those words.”

“Oh okay, so between my wife and my priest, which role did you think the court was going to assume you were alluding to?”

“What was I supposed to say? They had me backed into a corner.”

“It wasn’t relevant to the case! This was about Lilian. It had nothing to do-”

“It doesn’t matter that it wasn’t relevant, because the judge wasn’t intervening. I just- I panicked. I had to say something. I wasn’t going to lie under oath, and even if I were willing, what could I have said? Should I have thrown out some other name, thrown someone else under the bus? And what then, when it became obvious to the nation that I’d lied-”

“Oh, and you thought this was better? What are you going to say when they want proof? There’s no documentation. There was no wedding to document. Supergirl doesn’t exist as a legal entity, you can’t just-”

“Kara, I-”

“It’s just not like you not to think things through.”

They stand there staring at one another, Kara’s jaw clenched, Lena’s arms crossed tight across her chest. The sun is going to go down soon; Lena is already shivering a little in the shadow of the mountain. This is a mess, and it’s a mess of her own making, and she doesn’t know how to unmake it out here in the gathering dark.

“I’m sorry,” she says. “I could have - I should have refused to answer. But then they’d have held me in contempt and thrown me in prison. And I’m willing to go to prison for you, Kara, believe me, but then you’d have broken me out because you’re a beautiful idiot, and where would that leave us?”

Kara’s mouth twitches up a little at the corners, and then she laughs outright. “I would have,” she admits. “What a mess that would be.”

“I know I messed up,” Lena offers.

“You were trying to protect me.” Kara scuffs one boot in the dirt. “They’ll try to hit you with perjury charges; you know they will. You might wind up in prison at the end of this anyway.”

Lena nods. She does know this. Some part of her knew it the moment the words I plead the fifth left her mouth, and yet, everything she’s protested to Kara is true. Those words were the only road open to her so long as that judge remained silent.

“Well,” Lena says, “You don’t grow up in the Luthor household without learning a thing or two about the loopholes of the legal system. Burden of proof lies with the prosecution; it would be very difficult to prove that a wedding didn’t happen.”

Kara tsks and turns on her heel to stare out over the valley. “Supergirl isn’t a legal entity. They could challenge you on the grounds that you can’t be legally married to someone who doesn’t legally exist. And if they found a judge more sympathetic to Lex than to you….”

“Not a difficult thing to find,” Lena admits. She stands in the fear and the evening chill for a long moment “I meant what I said, Kara. If I go to prison over this, so be it. Anything to protect you.” Anything for the woman I love, she wants to say, but Kara isn’t ready for that. Might never be ready for that. And neither, truthfully, is Lena.

Kara’s fingers have found the edge of her cape, and now she’s worrying at it in the fading light. She doesn’t look back at Lena for what feels like a long time, and when she does her expression is guarded. “I want you to promise me you’re going to hear me out before you say anything.”

“Okay….” Lena says. She tries to wrestle down her questions, her curiosities, her reservations. Anything for Kara, after all.

Kara takes a deep breath, looking for all the world like she’s readying herself to make a national address. “I have a terrible idea.”

#fake marriage au #redraft!#oreo writes

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