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#shinee just constantly loves to keep us on our toes
smtown-tourist · 22 days
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I’m just gonna say it:
Onew RAPPING was NOT on my 2024 SHINee bingo card
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existentialmagazine · 2 years
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Existential Magazine’s November Music Roundup
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With November coming to a close, we’re sharing just a handful of our favourite new releases we’ve discovered this month! Sit back, put on our New Music Friday playlist and spend a few minutes enjoying fresh new tunes hand-picked by us.
Gone Stereo - Don’t Think I Forgot About You
Starting our Roundup for the month is Long Island based pop-punk band Gone Stereo, showing off their sure-to-be hit ‘Don’t Think I Forgot About You.’ Wielding a sound reminiscent of 2000s pop-punk filled with grit and angst, the new single jumps headfirst into the action with dominant, speeding electric guitar and a quickly tapping drum beat that both bring a much needed adrenaline burst to start things off. Capturing three and a half minutes of ear-worm hooks, evolving electric guitar riffs and choruses that’ll be stuck in your head for days on loop, the soundscape of ‘Don’t Think I Forgot About You’ is one not to be forgotten - even if you tried. As their vocalist carries a staple pop-punk delivery, their slightly whiney but ever-so catchy spoken-sung spewing of every line captures a nostalgic nod to artists like Blink-182 and Jimmy Eat World in their prime, making for an addictively brilliant experience urging you chant-along too. With a necessary story of heartbreak and attempting to move on, ‘Don’t Think I Forgot About You’ is at its roots your typical, surely new favourite pop-punk song taking back an older sound and reimagining it into something a little more modern. As the protagonist of the track finds themselves reminiscing on a love lost, there’s a hint of pain before Gone Stereo boast a chorus of getting over it: ‘I no longer feel lost without you… I’m better off without you.’
David Smalt - Sum Of Some Thing
Providing not just a song, but an experience to flow throughout your body and mind, David Smalt’s newest delicate indie-pop offering ‘Sum Of Some Thing’ is sure to capture your heart in its sincerity. Encompassing underwater feeling guitars that reverberate around the vast soundscape and a synthbass that lurks beside them, the instrumental atmosphere is one we can only best describe as prism-like, with tingling shimmers and bright beats that leave a warmth like the sun shining on your face and a rainbow of colours cast across your eyelids. At times, new instrumentals seep into the mix like deep piano notes, but at its core everything about ‘Sum Of Some Thing’ is simply breathtakingly soft and soothing. With David’s haunting vocal performance adding just another fragile and raw touch to the track, there’s not a single moment of this experience that won’t feel poignant and personal. As the lyricism explores an aching self-awareness and realisations, ‘Sum Of Some Thing’ comes from the perspective of someone realising perhaps they’re the reason their relationships continually aren’t working out, showing a bravery and a pain clasped together as one. This message paired with such an ethereal sound leaves ‘Sum Of Some Thing’ to be a song layered with both strength and intimacy, serving up an authentic realness in just under four minutes of life-changing tones.
Jonathan Shapiro - IDGAF
Setting up with gentle acoustic guitar plucks, Jonathan Shapiro’s new blend of rap-rock and hyperpop comes in the form of ‘IDGAF’, an interestingly layered journey of sound constantly keeping you on your toes. As things at first seem to be intimate and raw, with few instrumentals beside the personal lyrical journey, it’s not long before more electronic beats and sound effects litter the background for a more groovy unravelling of emotion. Jonathan offers a spoken-rapped blend of lyrical delivery, serving some straight-talking lines as he attempts to move on from a love lost, evidently carrying a world of pain but progressively getting over it. Heartfelt moments show off some sincere lines, like the resonant ‘now we just act like strangers from a past life’ evidently yearning a little for the death of who someone used to be, feeling like a complete stranger in their presence that once felt like a second home. Building up as this two and a half minute journey progresses, the track seemingly gets more volatile, with louder and more frequent instrumental bursts and aggressively slammed vocal lines all coinciding to make one energetic anthem that both carries a heartache and a passion to move forward.
Wotts - SOMETHING
Canadian indie-pop duo Wotts come bearing their newest single ‘SOMETHING’, heavily inspired by dance pop acts like The 1975 it shows a shimmery soundscape made to uplift and leave you feeling bright, even when its lyrical meaning is heavier under the surface. It wastes barely a moment jumping straight into things, utilising a deep electric guitar aside vibrant echoey chimes that together bring out a moody but optimistic resonance. Resting at just under three minutes in length, ‘SOMETHING’ is a relatively short but sweet offering of sugary goodness, pulled together by their vocalist’s rich subdued tones for a unique mesh of sounds. Made easily digestible by its seemingly positive sound, ‘SOMETHING’ is littered with so many colourful tones, all smothering their more vulnerable message so it’s less obvious on first listen. As they write about desperately yearning for someone you love to want you back, ‘SOMETHING’ captures very intimate lines that at times seem to indicate the one they’re falling for is someone they’re perhaps good friends with: ‘it can’t be for nothing… thinking about the good times we had.’ Relatable to most, ‘SOMETHING’ is a delectably real sprinkle of joy - as well as a little heartache too - and more than puts Wotts on the map as an exciting upcoming pair to keep an eye on.
Sugarglass - Slipping Through
Making their music industry debut with first single ‘Slipping Through’ the pop-punk up-comers Sugarglass are soaring from Bournemouth with a promising future if this offering is anything to go by. With a vibrant burst of sound to lead things in, ‘Slipping Through’ shows off a colourful electric guitar riff and groovy drum beats before the first verse adds their vocalist’s raw, typically pop-punk whiney singing that reminisces on artists like Blink-182 and Jimmy Eat World. At just under three minutes in length, ‘Slipping Through’ is sure not to waste even a moment, building up for a chorus filled with an high volume explosion of sound seeing the guitar dominating beside smashing drums and one energetically lively vocal performance. Writing about feeling someone slipping away despite all efforts to cling onto them, ‘Slipping Through’ captures many emotions from longing and letting go to heartache, all bundled up in an infectiously catchy sound. As Sugarglass douse their pain in this bubbly performance, below the surface there’s many lingering feelings, specifically exploring how painful it can be to feel you’re the only one holding on when to them you’re seemingly becoming an unimportant memory of the past: ‘I can feel you slipping through my fingers… why am I becoming nothing to you?’ Sugarglass’s debut is one of much promise, boasting an emotional fast-paced pop-punk song in ‘Slipping Through’ with plenty of fun melodies to get into and dance while you wait for their next piece to come.
Karma Brigade - Alive
Fading into a sound that’s atmospheric flourishing with colour and cascades powerfully with nostalgic resonance, Iceland based Karma Brigade’s newest single and album-opener ‘Alive’ boasts a spectacular experience far better to be lived than told about. As things commence with rising synths, steady drum beats and reverberated piano, there’s a very grand and vast soundscape set for ‘Alive’ to thrive within. Things however soon soften for the first verse, with just delicate beats and guitar plucks slowly rising beside their vocalist’s haunting performance, passionately delivering an emotionally stirring offering that when the chorus hits, strikes with all the more weight. With the addition of female backing vocals for the climactic chorus, ‘Alive’ is a song that truly shines in its diverse array of instrumentals and sounds, all interweaving for a transformative journey of sound that’ll leave you feeling uplifted and encouraged to chase your dreams. The lyrics aim to give a taste of the powerful feelings that arise when you take in your surroundings, enjoying the moments that are living, breathing and being created all around you in simple sunrises and morning warm coffees that capture the beauty of life in its simplest of forms. For a little burst of feeling alive, then look no further than this exceptional new single from Karma Brigade.
Hunter Nelson - Hollow
In just over three minutes, Hunter Nelson’s newest bedroom rock/pop single ‘Hollow’ achieves great heights, blending both smooth pop stylings with an undeniably gritty rock backing for something so very unique. Settling in with a quickly strummed electric guitar riff and subdued, steady drum beats, ‘Hollow’ begins rather slow and soft with Hunter’s delicate vocals right at the centre of everything and not afraid to be intimate. Remaining gentle but with an added atmospheric vastness, the chorus lifts the instrumentals to an even greater height, still light but shimmering in their full glory like an indie-pop burst nestled between the rocky verses. Bearing a poignant message, ‘Hollow’ writes of losing your youthfulness, heading into the woes and responsibilities of being an adult and the focus placed upon money as a whole. Attempting to escape the hollowness of life, lines like ‘I don’t know who I am at all’ are pained and a little lost, but seek optimism for the future in rediscovering oneself through this new stage of life. With a chorus that instead tries to focus on living life to the fullest, especially with someone you love by your side, ‘Hollow’ shows off glimmers of hope that your childlike spark can never be dulled no matter how much the world may try to crush it.
Kalulu - Video Disks
Moulding as a project by songwriter/producer Marinka Stam, Kalulu strives to find inspiring collaborations to contribute to an ever-changing sound with a unique signature styling of her own, and her latest collaboration with Holyoke in ‘Video Disks’ provides just that. Championing a sound that embraces whirring lo-fi synths, the soundscape of ‘Video Disks’ is one of immense electronic stylings as just Kalulu’s vocals, differing backing effects, bright synth sounds and occasionally interweaving beats come together for quite the interesting progressive journey. Beginning softer and more vibrant, the song exudes an uplifting aura, before shifting towards into more anxious quick beats and moments of close to instrumental solitude wonderfully jumping between differing emotions without needing to say a word. With lyrics that blur the lines between jealousy, envy and heartbreak, Kalulu uses ‘Video Disks’ to evidently speak of a lover turned to stranger, as poignant repeated lines like ‘Do you still wanna be friends?’ are continually met with rejection. Whether the relationship turned sour, or they’re simply seeking a new start, ‘Video Disks’ is a simplistic but creative insight into the world of Kalulu and what’s sure to come.
Jake Aarons - Tumblr
Channelling the old-school, 2000s pop-punk sound, independent singer-songwriter from the Czech Republic Jake Aarons’ newest single ‘Tumblr’ feels like a song lost in time, perfect for reconnecting with the youthful, good old days of Tumblr. Boasting a soundscape that’s filled with powering, energetic electric guitar strums and thundering drums right from pressing play, it’s clear that ‘Tumblr’ is a song brimming with energy that wants you off your feet dancing along. As the chorus picks up even further from the verses quick pacing, there’s a distinct added velocity in delivery, alongside the track’s exceptionally pop-punk at heart vocals. With a slightly hoarse, spoken-sung approach, every line is easy to chant along, and why wouldn’t you when the lyrics are so addictive? With reminiscent lines like ‘I can’t sleep I’m scrolling… waiting for your post that might be about me’, it’s clear that ‘Tumblr’ will be a real blast to the past for most, reigniting those teenage late nights and first crush butterflies. If you’re looking to be transported back to better days, ‘Tumblr’ is an experience sure to take you there if not also give you a little dance-along fun in the present.
Sehruhtonin - You’ll Be Safe Here
Slow and tender, the lo-fi pop artist Sehruhtonin’s aptly titled ‘You’ll Be Safe Here’ seems to do just as the title suggests: create a safe place to relax and feel reassured within four minutes of soft tones. Built mostly from rich piano and reverberated harmonies, the soundscape is one of undeniable simplicity, yet feels warm and atmospheric in its many differing layers. With only few instrumentals you would think the sound of ‘You’ll Be Safe Here’ would feel isolated and pained, yet instead it feels utterly enriched with a cathartically beautiful depth and blankets of colourful positivity that resonate best in such an intimate environment. The vocals especially leave the essence of ‘You’ll Be Safe Here’ burning bright in your heart long after pressing pause, as Sehruhtonin’s every word is complemented by a familiar filling harmony, yet still carries such rawness as she reflects within her words. Collecting differing uplifting and comforting things that friends had told Sehruhtonin during a hard time, the lyricism of ‘You’ll Be Safe Here’ stems directly from the incredibly personal love and care that came of Sehruhtonin’s own hardships, now shared for the world to feel just as loved even if they have no one to turn to for similar kind words. Within such a heartfelt bed of sound, ‘You’ll Be Safe Here’ offers out a hand to hold and a hug to those needing it most, both in terms of its words and its ever-so delicate sound.
Danny Olocklin - Story of a Houseparty
Closing out our Roundup for the month with a bundle of energy and a unique tale to tell is Danny Oloclkin with his latest release, ‘Story of a Houseparty.’ Bouncing in with funky, clean electric guitar riffs and a rhythmic beat, ‘Story of a Houseparty’ doesn’t waste a moment in setting the scene of vibrant nightlife as you’ll undoubtably want to get off your feet and dance along too. Danny’s smooth vocals lusciously complement the soundscape, carrying a wit and charisma that’ll hook your attention for the entire nearing three minutes of its channeled jazzy atmosphere. Paced quick and ever-so-catchily, the journey is fast but so incredibly memorable, with Danny even so much as adding a snippet of the party around the two minute mark for complete immersion. Every part of the grooviness that resides in ‘Story of a Houseparty’ genuinely feels like a real experience of your own even in the solitude of your own home, bringing the party to you every single time you press play. Inspired by true events, ‘Story of a Houseparty’ feels like a transportive journey to a real moment in time, narrating upon antics from a bunch of Danny’s friends during a houseparty celebrating his previous song release: ‘someone getting sick on our balcony, two friends broke a table... it’s the people leaning over and the devil in the skies.’ Close out November with a bang, and be sure to listen to ‘Story of a Houseparty’ along with all the other smashing hits this month had in store.
Give a listen to these songs and more in our New Music Friday playlist this week, or see our Roundup Recap playlist for every song previously featured in one of our monthly roundups that you might have missed!
Written by: Tatiana Whybrow
// This coverage was created via Musosoup, #SustainableCurator.
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mrsalwayswrite · 3 years
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Mine (Hvitserk x reader)
So this is my (first) contribution to @ofmanderley​ 300 followers celebration challenge! Congrats again! I’m so excited for you and thankful for the brilliant work you do.
I chose a gif set for my prompt that you can find here. Go check it out!
Warnings: none, this is pure cavity-inducing fluff. 
Words: 1300
Tag List: @youbloodymadgenius​
(Note- this gif is not mine. It is apart of the gif set that I chose so all the credit goes to @ofmanderley​)
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  The noon-day sun peered down between the thick clouds, creating pockets of light to shine through and warm the cold ground. Snow did not yet lay on the ground but the chill in the air fogged up one's breath in the early morning. 
 Mind swirling with thoughts of finalized preparations for winter, Hvitserk trekked towards the Great Hall. An intuitive feeling had him glance over towards the marketplace as he passed it…. only for his movement to abruptly cease. After a moment, he changed direction, strolling over to lean against a wooden post, half-hidden by the stall selling exotic spices. 
 The seller turned around soundlessly to look at him with a confused expression, probably wondering why one of the princes of Kattegat hid behind his stall. Hvitserk raised a finger and placed it over his smiling lips. The foreign man gave a single nod and turned back to the marketplace, calling out to those walking by in his thick accent. 
 Hvitserk's gaze returned back to what caught his eyes initially. 
 You. 
 Further down the marketplace, an elderly woman spoke animatedly to you from her stand. You gently touched the fabric she sold, making some comment that had both you and the elderly woman smiling. Passing her a coin, you chose one of the muted fabrics and slipped it into the basket hanging off your arm. With a final smile at the seller, you glided away, moving along the bustling marketplace. 
 No matter how many times Hvitserk's eyes feasted on you, it was never enough. Whenever you were around, he struggled to focus on anything other than you. His brothers teased him mercilessly about it but he did not care. You were worth it. 
 Especially now. 
 As you turned sideways to wave at someone calling your name, your belly bump became visible. Only within the past week had it suddenly appeared. It was as if your future child was trying to peek out at the world around them from behind your thick fur cloak already. Your bump constantly pushed aside the cloak no matter how many times you tried to cover it, revealing the life growing within your body. 
 Pushing off the post, Hvitserk stalked closer to you. He nodded to the few people who called out greetings but refused to let his pursuit be thwarted. Right now, you were his prey and he had every intention to catch you without hindrance. 
 Your leisurely amble slowed as you stopped at a different stand, admiring the furs laid out. 
 Sneaking up behind you, he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you back against his chest. "Hello, wife." He murmured into your ear. 
 You stiffened initially, but once he greeted you, your body melted into his embrace. "Hello, husband."
 "And how are my two favorite people?"
 "Good." You tipped your head to place a quick peck to his lips. "We missed you this morning. When did you leave?"
 He hummed then stole another quick kiss before answering. "Early. You looked so peaceful; I didn't want to disturb you."
 "Mmmm…. your child kept me up most of the night kicking."
 Chuckling, he reached a hand down to touch your protruding belly. "Soon, my little Valkyrie, soon we will get to meet you. Now though, you need to give your mother peace."
 With a nod at the seller, he turned you away from the stand. Holding hands, the two of you strolled through the marketplace. 
 "You still think it's a girl?" You asked, shifting the small basket in your other hand. 
 "I do."
 "Why?"
 "For how much she moves. She clearly has her mother's restless, fighting spirit." He answered as if it was obvious.
 You laughed, drawing more than one set of eyes towards you at the beauty of the sound. Not that Hvitserk could blame them, you were always beautiful but when you laughed, Freyja herself must be jealous of your radiance. 
 "What does that say about me now? I feel like all I want to do is lay around in bed." You asked with such an adorable pout, he was half tempted to bite that lower lip right here without a care of onlookers. 
 "It means, my love, that you are putting energy into a different kind of fight. Besides with how much work it took to charm you into becoming my wife…." he lowered his head, whispering into your ear in a husky tone, "....I would prefer if you never left our bed."
 You giggled, letting him steal another kiss as you continued to walk beside your beloved husband. "Well you might get your wish with how this child wears me out already. Are you not headed to meet with your brothers at this time?"
 "I was, but I think I prefer to walk back home with you."
 "That's sweet of you." 
 "Yes, you rest when we get back. Lay down and I'll give you a massage."
 "Allowing you to massage me was what got me pregnant in the first place." 
 He smirked shamelessly. "It can't hurt to practice for our next child."
 "If…." You pointed a finger at his smug face. "....if we have more children."
 Snaking an arm around your waist, he dragged you into a desolate side alley. Though you pretended to protest, you willingly followed him. Standing there alone, he pulled you in, arms around your waist. Your arms automatically raised to lay around his neck, an action almost instinctive by now. Though this time, your belly bump certainly kept more space between you than either of you wanted. 
 That silly smirk still on his face, he looked down at you almost arrogantly. "Oh, I'm certain it's fated for us to have more."
 "And why is that?" You stared up at him amused.
 "You can't keep your hands off me."
 Cocking your head to the side, he watched you attempt to suppress a smile. "That's not quite how I remember it."
 He leaned in closer, mouth hovering just over yours, though his brown eyes remained focused on you. "Do I need to remind you? The claw marks down my back from last night are proof enough of that."
 Gods, the way you bit your lower lip so innocently was enough to drive him wild, then when you peered up at him through your lashes, he was a goner every time. 
 "It's the fighting spirit you like so much." You teased back, tugging lightly on the ends of his braids. 
 "I do. Though if you didn't fight against my attention so much when I was chasing you, I would have appreciated it." 
 "You liked the challenge."
 "Mmmm." He hummed in agreement. You had made him work for your affections, your time, your respect. Something no other woman had made him do. It was during that relentless pursuit that he realized you were the woman he wanted for his wife, not just another lover; but someone to always fall asleep beside, to love and cherish wholeheartedly, to trust with every part of his soul.
 He pressed a soft, tender kiss to your lips. "And now you're mine. Before the gods, you are mine. Forever, my love."
 The smile that you gave him was so full of fondness and joy, it was blinding in its simple beauty. This time you lifted up on your toes to kiss him, a tender parting of lips and slow tangle of tongues. 
 When your mouths finally separated, he dropped to his knees right there in the dirt. He placed his hands on your belly, eyes intent on where his child grew. "And you, my little Valkyrie. I hope you are as strong and beautiful as your mother. For there is nothing in this world as precious to me as she is."
 He looked up and met your eyes, seeing tears swimming in them. Rising back to his feet, he cupped your cheeks, gazing into your face with absolute devotion and loyalty. Though he had known many women, there were none like you and he knew with all the same certainty as the daily rising and setting of the sun, there would never be another woman like you. His life. His love. And soon, the mother of his little Valkyrie. 
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hangovercurse · 4 years
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Past Mistakes
Y/N and Dom broke up 8 months ago, but now he’s back on her doorstep with flowers in his hand
Dom x Reader
Warnings: Cursing
A/N: I might make a (smutty) part 2 to this if any of you want it... Also let’s just say this took place in 2020 because I needed a non-Covid world for plot points :)
Word Count: 1860
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The first two months after Dom left were probably the hardest of your life. You barely ate, you barely slept, and other than going to classes you barely ever left your house. You threw yourself into your classwork, studying for hours on end and working constantly. Anything not to think about him.
The next few months, you got better. You started to move on, accepting that he was no longer a part of your life, at least not like he was. You started to go out with your friends more, started taking better care of yourself. 
After 5 months, he reached out to you, in a text. 
I know I have no right to ask you this, and you have no obligation to respond, but you’ve always been my number one supporter. I’m having a bit of trouble at the moment and could really use a friend. I was hoping we could get that back? Just friends.
It was... disappointing. Even though you swore up and down you were moving on, you couldn’t shake how upset you were. You’d secretly always hoped the next time he reached out to you would be him asking for forgiveness, to be taken back. 
But you supposed friends couldn’t hurt. 
Just friends
You responded. And everything seemed to be normal. 
Apparently, “just friends” meant random texts and snapchats from Dom about the places he would go when he was on tour, his random midnight thoughts about the universe and dinosaurs, and comforting him when his insecurities overwhelmed him. He, of course, returned the favor, though you were more than hesitant to break down any walls for him. 
Part of you was glad he’d broken things off before going on tour. You would be stuck in your small town while he was in a different city every night. Your newfound friendship was hard enough as it is given the time differences and the fact that you could only see him through a phone screen. You honestly couldn’t imagine pining for him while you stayed at home, even though you kind of did that for the first few months anyways.
So that was how life had been for the last 8 months. Once you’d gotten your shit together, you and Dom had a steady friendship over facetime for 6 months. You were still in school, Dom was still touring and making music. You were both as happy as you could be in that moment.
Or at least you were. 
It had only taken Dom three days to realize how badly he’d fucked up. Well, he knew before he’d even broken up with you that it would hurt. But sitting at the airport, wanting nothing more than to text you, he realized how bad this tour would be without you waiting for him at home. 
But he couldn’t put you through that heartache, it would be selfish of him. He thought if he’d let you go, you wouldn’t have to be upset when he couldn’t be with you for 8 months. But after 2 months of hell, Adam finally convinced him he needed to reach out to you. Even just as friends. 
But truthfully, after 6 months of that, he didn’t know how much longer he could stay friends. He missed holding you while watching movies, missed you bringing him tea when he was writing, missed showing up at your flat at 3 in the morning just to dance around your house. He missed your lips, your skin, your eyes. The way you reached for him first thing after you’d woken up, how you would drag him out of bed to go for a late night adventure, how your eyes would shine when he surprised you with a cute gift or date. 
And you couldn’t say you didn’t miss him too. You’d tried going out with the people your friends set you up with, but no one compared to Dom. No one understood you like him. As silly as it sounded when you’d say it to yourself, you were pretty sure you were made for each other. You’d never find anyone to compare to him. And maybe that’s why “just friends” stung so much.
You were sat on your sofa, laptop in front of you, working on an assignment to keep your mind off the fact that it was Friday night and all of your friends were out on dates and you were on your sofa, doing schoolwork. 
Your plan was working surprisingly well, until you finished said assignment. Then you were just left to sit and wallow in your own self pity, wishing anyone were there to cuddle and kiss. Well, maybe not anyone. 
Eventually, you decided a movie would be a good distraction from your thoughts, so you pulled up Netflix on your TV, scrolling through the movie selection. As you landed on Princess and the Frog, there was a knock on your door. 
You raised your eyebrow slightly, curious as to who might be at your door this late. Nevertheless you trudged over to the door in your oversized sweatpants and ripped up Guns n’ Roses shirt. 
You opened the door to reveal a bouquet of pink and black roses in the hands of none other than your ex-boyfriend-turned-friend, Dominic Harrison. 
When he saw you in person for the first time in 8 months, he could only stare, taking in all of your beauty. Every feature was so familiar to him, yet so changed. And every second he spent on your doorstep, taking you in, he fell even more back in love with you. 
You didn’t know what to think. You would have never in a million years expected him to show up at your door with flowers. And pink and black flowers at that. Your mutual favorite colors. 
Finally, he gained the courage to speak, “Hey, Y/N.” He was trying his hardest not to stutter as he extended his arm with the flowers, handing them to you. 
You took the flowers, a small smile making its way on your face. “Um, hey Dom. What’s up?” You were finding it hard to look at his face, worried that if you did you wouldn’t be able to stop yourself from kissing him. 
“I was hoping we could talk?” You nodded, moving out of the doorway to let him walk into your small living room. 
Your eyes followed his back, taking in every detail of him as you could. You couldn’t help but think about how natural he looked in your flat, how at home he was. 
You snapped out of your thoughts as he turned to face you. You closed the door and followed him into the room. “It’s good to see you again. Like, in real life.” You told the truth, seeing him in your flat was like a breath of fresh air after the fog of the last 8 months. 
“Can I be honest with you?” He asked, taking you aback. Your mind started running through every possible thing he might want to say to you. 
“You can always be honest with me.” You told him, trying to maintain a calm facade, though underneath you were freaking out. 
What if he wants to tell me that being friends was a mistake? What if he thinks our relationship was a mistake? Maybe he is only still friends with me because he feels bad for me.
“Ok, there’s no way to say this any other way so I’m just gonna go for it.” He took a deep breath, “I’m still in love with you.”
He paused, gauging your reaction. You felt as if every cell in your body froze. You hadn’t realized just how much you’d wanted him to say those words. 
“I never really stopped, if I’m honest. I haven’t stopped thinkin’ about you since I left.” 
You seemed to come back to your senses, a blush reaching your face as you glanced down to your feet and back up to meet his eyes. “I- um” You started.
“I know you probably don’t feel the same thing and I don’t blame you I just couldn’t keep living without telling you that.” Dom interrupted, speaking faster out of nervousness. He had begun to pace around the living room, something you had seen many times before.
“Dom, I-”
“God I was so stupid to let you go. I thought it would help me miss you less while I was away but I’ve just missed you more.” He ran a hand through his hair, and you couldn’t help the smile on your face. 
“Dominic, can I talk please?” You chuckled as he turned to face you, stopping in his tracks. The look on his face was so soft and scared. You realized how much he still cared for you and how scared he was to lose you.
“Dom, I never stopped loving you either, dork.” You walked over to him, placing the flowers on your coffee table and grabbing his hands. 
His eyes went wide at your touch and he looked down at his feet, occasionally glancing up to your interlocked hands. “I, um, I thought you would hate me...”
“I don’t think I could ever hate you,” you whispered, “I was hurt at first, like really. I was a mess.” You chuckled, remembering the many nights spent crying in your bed. “But I never hated you. And when you texted me I just- I dunno. It hurt that all you wanted was friends but I couldn’t live without you in my life. I know it sounds cheesy and shit but like, I never stopped wanting you to come back to me.”
At some point in your spiel, Dom looked up at you, a smile growing on his face. Your eyes finally met and it was like something clicked. Like all the feelings that you had been repressing from the last 8 months were finally surfacing. 
“Can I kiss you?” He whispered, his gaze flickering between your eyes and your lips. Instead of responding, you lifted yourself onto your toes and connected your lips to his. His hands moved to grab your waist, leaning down into the kiss. Your hands travelled to his chest, one hand resting on his shoulder and the other continuing up to his neck. 
Your lips melded with his in the most natural way, almost like you’d never taken a break from each other. 
Once you pulled away you nuzzled your face into his chest, taking in the familiar smell of Dom. He pressed a kiss to the top of your head as you moved your hands to wrap around his middle. “I missed you.” You mumble into his shirt before looking up to him again. “Don’t leave me again.” You whispered, “please?” 
He leaned down, rubbing your nose with his. “I won’t, I promise.” He pressed a kiss to your lips as you smiled against him. 
“Can we watch Princess and the Frog now?” He asked with a chuckle. “I saw it on when I came in and its been on my mind since.” 
You giggled, nodding as you pulled him down onto your couch, cuddling up to him and pressing play. 
349 notes · View notes
captainrexforever · 4 years
Text
His Queen
Rating: T
Word Count: ~3k
Summary: You’re a little hesitant about wearing makeup due to a past experience. Din has no problem changing your mind.
Warnings: childhood trauma??, little bit of angst, fluff, steamy makeout
Note: After the amazing response I received on my last fic I decided to write another one. After all, these ideas are still going to be swirling around my head even if I don’t put them in writing. I hope you enjoy!
Sidenote: Imagine him looking at you like this *swoon*
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“Are you sure we don’t have any additional rations in the crates?”
“No, the kid snuck into the stash last night. I didn’t notice until after he polished off the last of the rations.”
Din just sighs.
“I can make the trip to the market while you finish the repairs.”
“No, I’ll go, I don’t want you to deal with all the bantha shit that goes on at these markets.”
For some reason-don’t ask why-it’s incredibly attractive to hear him curse. 
It’s touching to hear the protective note in his voice, but you feel that you are well enough equipped to handle yourself. As a teenager, you had been taught the essentials of self defense by a family friend.  
“It’s alright. I’ll have my comm with me and it won’t take long if I just place an order for delivery of the rations.”
“Alright, if you insist. Be careful.”
“I will.”
He stands from his kneeling position on the floor, where he had been checking the netting beneath the bench for any additional ration packets. You prepare to leave, patting down your pockets to make sure you have your credits, your blaster, and your comm before you set off. When you look up again, he’s standing in front of you, a tilt of his helmet betraying his inner thought process. A smile tugs at your lips.
“Looking for a goodbye kiss?”
He sighs again, and you’re certain he’s rolling his eyes beneath the helmet.
“Ner verd’ika, you are a tease.”
You giggle before raising your hands to the sides of his helmet, eyes fluttering closed as you tilt it upwards. With an accuracy born from hours of practice you lean forward, raising on your toes to press a quick kiss to his lips before allowing the beskar to fall back into place. He lets out a disgruntled huff, his hands falling to your hips and tugging you against his torso so that he can rest his forehead against yours.
“Be careful.” He repeats.
“Always.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
It’s surprising how many people can squeeze into the small marketplace, vendors and townsfolk chattering away as they bargain for an agreeable price. Animals bellow in the distance, adding to the noisy buzz that fills the crowded streets. 
You find yourself enjoying the bustling atmosphere, welcoming the stark juxtaposition to the quiet serenity of the Razor Crest. Before you can become too distracted, you steer your feet towards the largest area of the forum where several shops display food and beverages. 
After placing an order of rations and directing the shop owner to deliver the crates to the spaceport, you find there are a few spare moments to wander around the market before returning to the ship and tending to the delivery.
After traveling with Din for some time now, it has come to your attention that each planet you visit boasts a unique variety of wares. The citizens of this particular planet seem to possess a fascination with water-colored mugs and delicate embroidery. Not that you are complaining, everything that greets your eyes is absolutely gorgeous.
Upon rounding the next corner though, you stop dead in your tracks. Before you stands what is obviously a cosmetics shop. Holoimages are projected against the walls of the stand, each image featuring breathtaking models who-to your immense surprise-don't have you feeling even a dash of envy. What has you so enamored is the crowd of young women that peruse the shop. They are obviously a group of friends, but what shocks you the most is the presence of their mothers. Each parent is eagerly pointing out cosmetic items and encouraging the younger women to apply the samples that are provided. Bitter tears bite at the surface of your eyes, and you blink furiously in an effort to keep them contained.
As a young woman you had constantly been dissuaded from wearing makeup, told that it wasn’t appropriate at your age. You feel pathetic, chastising yourself and turning around with the intention of returning to the ship. But you don’t get very far, a feminine voice floating past your ears.
“Miss, Miss? Would you like to join us?”
Not wanting to expose your current state of turmoil, you scrub frantically at your tear-stained face, hoping to avoid further humiliation. When you feel presentable, you turn slowly, coming face-to-face with a girl that stands even shorter than you. Practically an impossible occurrence at your height, Mando would have teased you if he was here.
“I couldn’t help but notice that you were by yourself, and well, on our planet it’s tradition for women to join together and add to their makeup collection on this particular day. It’s like the New Years of cosmetics.” Her eyes are shining, and she seems so genuine that you feel silly for your earlier judgement. “Although I am almost certain you are just visiting, my friends and I would be honored if you would join us.” Almost as if on cue, her friends rush up behind her, pleading with you to stay for just a little bit.
“Well, I…” Din will be expecting you back soon, and you don’t want to worry him.
“Pleeeaaaase!” They all beg, drawing out the word as they stare at you.
“Alright, just for a few minutes.” He won’t mind, you think to yourself. He and the kid can catch up while you are gone anyways, they haven’t been able to spend much time together lately.
The girls’ smiles are blinding and the first one grabs your hand, pulling you along as they all return to the stand to continue shopping. “I’m Tasha, by the way.” She beams. You smile back, sharing your name as well.
“What will you purchase?” Another girl questions.
“Oh, actually I don’t wear makeup.”
“You don’t?” They looked like you just told them Life day was made up.
“No, I....I never learned how to apply it.” That was close enough to the truth.
“Don’t worry, we’ll show you how!” Then Tasha is beckoning her mother over and soon they are exchanging ideas so quickly that you lose track, only picking up on fragments such as “transition”, and “complementary shade”.
“Could you please sit for a moment?” Tasha’s mother inquires, gesturing to a chair that rests next to the booth.
You’re a little hesitant, the assortment of items that they are both clutching in their hands has you yearning to turn your back and run.
Take a deep breath, it’s just a little bit of makeup, it’s not going to kill you.
After your flight instinct recedes a little, you move to sit in front of the older woman, trying not to flinch as she gently dabs several types of cream-like products on your face. She tuts here and there, discarding some of the products that she is holding as she works through all of the samples. Eventually, she finishes, holding out a wipe as she gestures for you to wipe your face. Once that is accomplished, she’s attacking the various assortment of products that Tasha is still holding. You idly wonder if it’s sanitary to be layering so many products over the sensitive skin of your face, but assume that it is probably alright if this is a common practice for most women.
What feels like hours later, after your face has been contorted into every position imaginable, your eyes weighed down by what seems to be a boat anchor attached to your eyelashes, Tasha and her mother proudly declare that you are ‘finished’-whatever that means. Then Tasha is holding out a bag of products for you to take. You eagerly accept the bag, feeling quite mature all of a sudden, and swagger over to the counter to pay the clerk. To your immense shock, Tasha’s own mother is sitting behind the register, and when you approach she insists that the items are ‘on the house’, refusing to accept any form of payment.
With a blush, you suddenly realize you have no idea how to apply any of the products yourself, but before you can even open your mouth, the older woman is sliding a piece of flimsy towards you. A detailed assembly of holoimages decorates the flimsy, demonstrations and instructions outlining the correct application technique for each product. There are tears welling in your eyes again, but you blink them back and circle the table to engulf the woman in a heartfelt embrace. She accepts the action with an affection you can only describe as motherly, patting your back gently until you pull away, then fixing you with a radiant smile.
Suddenly your heart drops into your throat, and your own smile fails. You can’t return to the ship looking like this! Din will be appalled that you delayed your departure from the spaceport to indulge in a personal shopping trip. Tasha’s mother frowns, watching as you suddenly turn frantic, scanning the nearby vicinity like a child who has been caught stealing a dessert cube. You reach for the packet of makeup wipes that sits upon the table, hastily rushing to explain the thoughts running through your head.
“This makeup is lovely, but I can’t return to my…” kriff, what should you call him...“friend looking like this.”
“And why not?” You are taken aback a little at the tone of your voice. She’s not angry, though there are hints of disapproval and surprise laced into her words.
You stammer for a response. “He...I…” Your brain sputters as you try to conjure the right words.
“Oh, I see. He’s that kind of friend. Well, if he doesn’t like the way you look, then you seem like the type of person who will have no trouble putting him back into his place.”
She continues speaking even as your jaw falls open.
“However, I heavily suspect that won’t be necessary.” The knowing grin that spreads across her face is like that of a loth-cat that just caught a canary.
“....” You can’t manage to utter a single word, trying to force down the blush that is rising to your cheeks.
“Here, take a look into this mirror.”
Woah, is that your face? Whatever had been applied to your eyes had caused the color to pop, drawing attention to your now piercing gaze. Every feature appeared to be enhanced, and you couldn’t help but note that your jawline seemed capable of cutting through duraplast, like a vibroblade through bantha butter on a hot Tatooine day.
“I look...wow.”
The older woman chuckles gently. “You look amazing dear. Embracing your natural beauty is important, but you shouldn’t be afraid of enhancing it either. No matter what, your inner beauty always speaks louder than any outer appearance ever will. Now go catch that man of yours. I’m sure he will agree with me too.” She ends with a pointed wink.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Shadows stream past you as you jog back to the Razor Crest, hoping you are not too late to meet the merchant who is delivering the order of rations. Of course your luck is worse than you expected, and not only is there no merchant in sight, but it seems that Din has already finished the repairs. Kriff. Well, you’ll just have to return to the shop and apologize to the owner before pleading for another delivery opportunity. Then, after you settle that, you will need to prepare an explanation for Din. 
Kriffing hell.
 How do you always manage to get yourself into these situations?
“And here you had me thinking that you might have finally ditched me.” Din startles you, but there is a teasing lilt to his voice.
How is he still in a good mood? Wait, where is he?
“Up here.” He’s chuckling now too, probably at your apparent confusion, the bastard.
You look up and place your hands on your hips in disbelief of what you’re seeing. A shake of your head does nothing to help you understand what exactly is going on. At the moment, Din is flying figure eights in the air using his jetpack, the kid tucked securely in his arms while he squeals in delight. You shake your head again, looking down at the ground as a rush of affection floods your chest. The damned Mandalorian can be such a romantic without even realizing it. 
As of late, it has been difficult for either of you to discreetly purchase jetpack fuel at a decent price. Yet, here he is taking the kid for a ride, probably because he looked into those big brown eyes and couldn’t resist indulging the kid in a quick flight.
Their maneuvers continue for a few more minutes, and you wonder if you should head back to the market while Din and the kid are still occupied. Abruptly, you decide to take a seat inside the Crest for just a moment before jogging back to the store. It’s not until you scale the ramp that you notice the newly delivered crates resting inside the storage netting.
“The delivery arrived before you did, so I made sure that it was unloaded onto the right ship.” If you weren’t so relieved you might scold him for scaring you like that. Then again, he probably enjoys sneaking up on you. You scowl goodnaturedly, he’s lucky you lov--. Oh no, no, no.
No, no, no, no, no.
No, no, no.
No, no.
No.
He’s lucky you love the kid. That’s right, that’s what you meant to say.
Whew.
You move to rub your forehead, then realize that you’re still wearing what feels like fifteen layers of bantha paste and an entire canister of glitter on your face. Uh-oh. Has Din seen your face yet? You don’t think so. Your back is still facing him, but at any second he’s bound to step in front of you and notice that you’re all decked-out in makeup. 
Despite the kind words from the woman back at the market, you feel yourself begin to panic. What if he thinks you look silly, or worse what if it changes his perception of you? 
His footsteps advance forwards and you hold your breath, only for him to continue towards the kid’s hammock. It’s then that you realize the kid has fallen asleep in his buir’s arms, obviously worn out after his latest adventure. Din is exceedingly gentle as he sets him into his hammock, rocking the child for a few seconds to ensure he remains fully asleep.
As you bask in the sight of a soft, caring Din you don’t realize he’s turning around until it’s too late. He lets out a punched out sound once he is face-to-helmet with you, and although you are never sure where his visor is pointing, you know without a doubt that it is currently directed at your face. 
Neither of you move, gaze fixed firmly on the other for several minutes as a lingering tension brushes at your spine. Before you can explain yourself the lights flicker and plunge the hull into darkness, gloved hands and a beskar covered chest suddenly slamming into you, pinning you against the nearest wall so quickly that your back aches a little from the force of the impact.
“Kriffing hell.” He manages.
Oh, you definitely shouldn’t find that as attractive as you do.
“Is this what you were doing all afternoon?” His words are followed by a resonating clang, and you find yourself begging whatever deity is above that he is about to kiss you senseless. Sadly, he seems too interested in pressing a kiss to your neck while he whispers shamelessly into your ear. It’s a close second though, and you're definitely not complaining, especially when the position allows you to drop a hand down to squeeze his perfectly sculpted ass.
He lets out a growl at your feistiness, sucking at your neck in a manner that is sure to leave a visible hickey. “Maybe I should send you to the marketplace more often if this is how you’ll return.”
You let out a pleased mewl at that, proud that you are able to elicit such a passionate response from your usually stoic companion. “Sounds...sounds good to me.” Your reply is breathy, and there is no way that your lungs are supplying sufficient oxygen to your brain right now. It doesn’t help that Din has decided to wrap one of your thighs around his waist, your body erupting into flames at the suggestive positioning.
“Look so good.” It’s muttered between butterfly kisses, his lips charting the skin of your neck like it’s a flight path. “So pretty.” Another scorching kiss on your neck. “My sweet girl.” It’s half spoken-half growled against your throat.
A moan is ripped from your throat at that last sentence, and your free hand is scrabbling for purchase in his hair, using your touch to coax his lips to meet your own neglected ones. This man is going to be the death of you, you’re sure of it. He’s mewling into your mouth, half-chuckling because he knows how much you appreciate that specific action, then he’s pressing his tongue in as well, sliding it across yours as he dares you into a battle of dominance. You can’t help but indulge him, fingers tightening in his curls as you allow yourself to be a little more aggressive, pushing into his mouth as you lead him on a merry chase. Even in the most intimate of acts, Din is ever the hunter and he takes control in a record amount of time, knotting his hand in your hair so that he can position your head in whatever manner he desires. The whole act is absolutely delicious and your toe curls as you wedge yourself even closer to his armor-clad chest.
“I sure hope you have more of that stuff.” He mumbles against your lips when you both separate for a breath.
“Huh?” You finally manage after gasping down a breath.
“It makes you look like a queen.” He elaborates.
There’s no point in arguing with him, especially when his mouth returns to yours to shut down any rebuttal you might have.
It’s safe to say that any of your hesitations towards wearing makeup were cleared up after that particular incident, and you learned a couple valuable lessons that day. The most important being to buy extra makeup wipes for the Mandalorian himself. Let’s just say Din was an...enthusiastic kisser.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Ner verd’ika: my little warrior
Buir: (mother or father), in this case it pertains to ‘father’
Life day: the equivalent of Christmas in the star wars universe
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redqueen-hypothesis · 4 years
Text
one dance ➳ victor (mlqc)
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➳ PAIRING: reader x victor li (mlqc)
➳ WORD COUNT: 1912
➳ GENRE: fluff
➳ SYNOPSIS: you and victor finally get a break.
➳ REMARKS: inspired by this, @sunshinejihyun​ i hope this was okay!
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“But, Mommy, I want to go with you too!”
“No, you can’t, darling.” You turn around in the middle of blowing your hair dry to smile at your daughter, who’s pouting at the doorway of your dressing room. Running up to you, she throws herself into your lap, her little hands wrapped tightly around your waist. “But why! Why, why, why! Why are you and Daddy going out without me?”
You laugh at your daughter’s teary eyes and pinch her nose lightly. Victor’s always spoiled her rotten, really. “Because Daddy and I want some alone time together.” You tell her patiently, and her face scrunches up in a pout. “Besides, we’ll be dropping you off with Uncle Kiro,” her expression immediately brightens and you have to hold back your amusement, “so can you give us some time off?”
She puffs up her cheeks, but you can already see the way her eyes are shining at the mention of her celebrity uncle. “Uncle Kiro?” She repeats, and you nod. “Yes, Uncle Kiro. He wants to bring you to his studio so you can see how he made his newest album, you wanted to see that, didn’t you?”
Her bottom lip quivers. “Well... I suppose I could go with Uncle Kiro for one evening...” She turns back to stare at you with those big grey eyes, the exact same shade as Victor’s. “But next time, you have to bring me out with you! Deal?”
You hum in agreement, holding out your pinky. “Promise.”
Satisfied after having made her ‘contract’, your daughter rushes out of the room to look for her father instead. Shaking your head in amusement, you turn to your wardrobe, looking through the outfits inside for a suitable fit. Over the years you’ve been together, Victor has gifted you with many beautiful things, and you’ve never really been left in want. Your smile is affectionate as you look at the dresses you have in the closet. 
That one was a gift from your last anniversary, that velvet dress just because he said he thought of you when he saw it, the one beaded with pearls because it matched your eyes...
Your hands rest on the last hanger in the closet, and you lift it out in surprise. Red silk unfurls, sliding out smoothly and the little crystals lining the hem catch the light of your dressing room. You haven’t seen this for a long while.
This was the dress that Victor had bought you when you had attended that dance gala all those years ago, even before the two of you had started dating. You’d kept the dress away after wearing it only once, terrified to ruin it in case Victor would ask for recompense somehow. Your thumb runs over the gemstone sitting on your left ring finger, a slight smile touching your lips in amusement at the thought. It’s really been that long, hasn’t it?
Standing up, you hold the dress to your body as you look at yourself in the mirror thoughtfully. 
Can you still fit into it?
The answer is yes, although the dress is a little more snug on you than you remember, it’s only to be expected. You slip on the shoulder straps and curl your hair lightly, humming pleasantly to yourself. When you look at yourself in the mirror to apply your lipstick, a wave of nostalgia washes over you gently - suddenly, it feels like you’re in your twenties again, nervously hoping that you remember all the dance steps that Victor had been drilling into you for the past week, that you won’t trip on your heels and your partner won’t show you up.
He had, eventually, but Victor had been there to save the day with grace, taking the place of your dance partner with ease. By the end of the night, you weren’t even upset that your original partner hadn’t come; you clearly got something far better in return.
You pause in applying your lipstick for a moment to giggle at the thought. You never would have thought back then that Victor could so romantic.
You’re just finishing up your outfit when there’s a low knock on the door. “Dear?” You turn around to see Victor standing at the door in a tasteful black suit, a bouquet of red roses in hand. His hair is slicked back, grey eyes relaxed as they run over your form. You catch a small quirk at the corner of his mouth when his gaze settles on the dress you’re wearing.
“I haven’t seen that dress for a while.”
You laugh as Victor crosses the room to place the bouquet in your arms, their pleasant scent enveloping you. “A while would be an understatement. I think it’s been years since I’ve taken it out, but it’s surprisingly still in good condition.” You tell him, and Victor places a chaste kiss on the back of your hand. It’s been years since you’ve been married, but the silent, steadfast love with which Victor has treated you with has never waned. “How’s our daughter?”
“Kiro came to pick her up a few minutes ago, she was so excited that she didn’t even bother saying goodbye.” Victor shakes his head and you have to stifle your laughter behind your palm. “Well, I suppose that just makes things easier for us.” He holds out a hand, and there’s the barest hint of a smile on his lips. “Shall we?”
You smile brightly and take it, his fingers warm in yours. “Let’s go.”
The restaurant he brings you to is empty of patrons except for the two of you, a single table set up in the middle of the hall decorated with flickering candles and scattered roses. As usual, Victor has spared no expense, you muse to yourself.
Dinner is a pleasant affair, as it always is, while you and Victor chat over the food. He’s been busy recently, handling matters about the LFG’s expansion in several more sectors and maintaining their position as the top financial group in the city. Similarly, you’ve been caught up with work and keeping your youngest daughter occupied, leaving the two of you little or no time at all to enjoy each other’s company.
Tonight is a nice change of pace, although your conversation somehow keeps coming back to the family.
“Our daughter mentioned wanting to marry her Uncle Kiro when she grows up.” You mention suddenly when you reach for your glass of wine, your lips creased into a smile as you take a sip. Victor’s eyes instantly narrow. “What should I tell her?”
“First of all, the age gap is too big.” Victor answers crisply, setting his fork and knife down on the plate. You glance at him in amusement, you had only meant it as a joke, but Victor seems to be taking this very seriously. He’s always been overprotective of his little girl, after all. “He won’t be able to relate well to her.”
“We’re six years apart.” You point out, entertained, but Victor shakes his head. “We’re different.” He stresses, and a small snort escapes you. “And besides, I don’t want her to have a live a life constantly hounded by the paparazzi because her husband is famous. It’s difficult being in the spotlight all the time. As a pop singer, there must be many other women fighting for his attention too. Our daughter deserves someone who loves her wholeheartedly-” You lean forward to put your finger on his lips.
"I was just joking.” You say, and Victor lets out a sigh of relief. “Really, Victor, you’re saying all of this as if you aren’t famous either.” Amusement tugs at the corner of your mouth. “Why, have you been recently tempted by other women fighting for your attention?”
“Don’t be a dummy.” Victor shakes his head, although his eyes soften when he looks at you. One of his hands reaches across the table to take yours, lifting it so that the diamond on your left hand glimmers in the candlelight. “I made a vow to one woman, and I won’t break it for the rest of my life. Why would I be tempted when I have you?”
You smile at him. “I know.”
Behind you, the live quartet starts up another song, familiar notes of the violin drifting through the air and you perk up in delight. “Oh, Victor, remember this song?”
Victor pauses for a moment, before the line of his mouth softens. “Of course. how could I? The number of times you stepped on my feet dancing to this song...”
“Shush! You’re ruining the mood.” You scold, but slip out of your chair and hold out your hand to your husband, a smile dancing on your face. He looks up at you, head tilted to the side. “Shall we dance?”
Victor lets out a small laugh, rising to his feet and taking your hand. “Let’s see if you haven’t forgotten how to dance to this song.” He teases lightly, placing one hand on your waist and weaving the fingers of the other with yours. “For the sake of my toes, I hope you do.”
“I definitely won’t let CEO Victor down.” You tell him, and Victor’s eyes crinkle in amusement at the old nickname. At the next stanza, the two of you start moving to the song, your feet finding the rhythm and moving along with him in the dance. All of a sudden, you’re at the gala once again, watching a younger Victor approach you with an unreadable expression on his face as he offers to dance with you, the low voice in your ear telling you just how many times you’ve stepped on his feet which you now know was an attempt to take the edge off your nerves. “See, I’ve improved, haven’t I?”
Victor twirls you around and you move smoothly in response, raising your arm and allowing your skirt to flare out in a perfect circle. He catches you and steps into the beat once more.
“I don’t think you could have gotten much worse than how you were back then, dear. It was quite the haphazard effort trying to get you ready.” He says, but you can hear the amusement in his voice, the slight lift of the corner of his mouth. “But, well, I suppose that you did alright that night, considering you only had a few days to get ready.” His voice is soft. “It was quite the impressive effort to behold.”
You smile as you look up at Victor, the way the candlelight casts the features of his face into shadow and light. Although Victor has matured both inside out over the last few years you’ve been together, his heart has never changed one bit; strong, unyielding and protective. You rest your cheek on his chest with a hum when the song dies down, and his hands come up to embrace you. “What’s the matter? Feeling unwell?”
You shake your head, then with a smile, hold your pinky up to him.
“Stay with me for the rest of our lives?”
Victor arches a brow, but he chuckles slightly. “I can do better than that.” Taking your hand in his, he presses it against his chest and kisses you on the mouth, his other hand cupping your jaw gently. When he pulls away, he rests his forehead against yours, his breath warm on your cheeks.
“Forever sounds like a far better deal, don’t you think?”
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professor-catalpa · 3 years
Note
Hi there, professor! Could we have some backstory on your team, please? Who did you get first?
Of course! Here's a picture of my closest team-- the descriptions will get a bit long, so I'll put it under a read more for yall. :)
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Oh, and to answer your last question, the Pidove was my first-- his name is Scruff, and he's also our park's mascot!
As you can kind of see in this picture, Scruff is missing one of his toes. He was actually adopted by my parents when I was a teenager, after being attacked by a local Purrloin (reminder: never let your Pokemon roam unattended). Being involved with his rehabilitation process is how I found this field in the first place, so I have him to thank for a lot in my life! Even once he had healed up enough to go out on his own again, Scruff never left; eventually, when it was time for me to leave home and go to the academy, he stowed away with me and hasn't left my side since!
Scruff has really grown into his role as our lead outreach Pokemon. When he isn't on my shoulder, he's helping other staff with educational talks, hanging out in our visitor center begging for treats, or keeping an eye on the other Pokemon in the park! He's really a pampered little guy, and loves all the attention he gets.
Coronet, the Electivire, was one of the first residents of Entralink park; she was first attracted by the construction, and has stuck around since then. When she arrived, she was such an anxious little thing-- she'd constantly overproduce electricity and was doing some damage to herself that way. Another professor was kind enough to send us a small batch of miniature Joltik to nestle in her fur and absorb any excess electricity; this doesn't hurt her at all, they're too small, but they help her manage her anxiety. The Joltik helped her calm down a lot, but she was still pretty restless, so we found her a job: she produces all of the power for the park! Compared to her maximum output, even with her Joltik friends, the task is relatively trivial for her, but she enjoys the responsibility. We named her after the mountain in Sinnoh-- I've never been, but I've heard it has some really interesting properties!
Our Pansage, Charles was a rescue. You wouldn't know it now, but her original trainer was horribly neglectful and her head bush was almost entirely wilted when we found her. I was not (and am still not, really) an expert in grass-types, but with a lot of research and help from other professors she really bounced back! During her recovery process she really took a shine to the park-- the wide variety of Pokemon we stable are beyond what she'd ever seen, and she immediately fit in perfectly making friends with just about everyone. She also leaves us trimmings from her bush from time to time to help in the medical facilities!
The Audino was the first Pokemon we brought to the park for a purpose. We knew we'd need a Pokemon to help with the on-site medical facility, and there are serveral breeders in the region that breed Audino for just this purpose! After hatching a brood, the breeder and I worked very closely with the hatchlings to see which would be best suited for our facilities. He taught me a lot that really got me started in training work Pokemon, and I still use a lot of his methods to this day! Once we had our best candidate, we put out a poll to our visitors to name him... and he ended up with the name Burger, haha. That's what we get for putting a custom entry field in! Burger's been a beloved member of our crew ever since, and has even helped us train other medical Pokemon!
King, the Politoed, was part of my first work Pokemon breeding program. I was breeding rescue Poliwrath-- though the more intensive training would take place at a more specialized facility, creating suitable breeding lines and determining aptitude fell to my facilities. Though the program did produce many Poliwrath that went on to become lifeguards, for example, just as many Pokemon ended up following other paths! Such is the way of my work, I suppose. One of those "flunked" students was King, who, even as a Poliwag, was always taking the lead in group exercises, ending up at the center of attention, and trying to help anyone who was falling behind. When the time came to evolve into a Poliwrath he refused; after presenting him with a King's Rock, it was clear what he really wanted to do! All of the other Pokemon from his program ended up in caring homes, but he ended up staying with us, helping handle the stabled and rescued Pokemon at the park!
Finally, most recently, there's our newest team member. With the park expanding, and my scrawny butt not being much help with any of the construction or maintenence, let alone the heavier cleaning tasks, we decided to take in a work-Scolipede trained by a dear friend of mine. We actually haven't settled on a name for her yet, nothing has quite fit so far! I'm a little wary of opening a poll to the public after the Burger incident, but maybe some of you visitors have suggestions? Feel free to let me know any names you think of for her! She's a real powermudsdale, and though she looks stern she's warmed up to the park's resident very quickly, and we hope she decides to stick around for quite some time! :)
All six of these guys stay with me in my personal residence on-site-- we have other Pokemon that come and go, but these are, for now, our permanent residents.
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tickleraptorss · 3 years
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Rise and Shine, Princess
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Based on the “Rise and Shine” cutscene from the FFXV demo. Noctis is known to have trouble getting out of bed, so he gets a little help from his boyfriends.
a/n: hiiii what can i say i’m a sucker for wake-up tickles and noctis is a sleepy baby man so i couldn’t resist. anyways here is fic.
Noctis was many things, and his boyfriends knew he had many qualities. He was a picky-eater, a well-trained fighter, and a bit lazy at times. Noctis wasn’t perfect, and at the time being he didn’t have to be. The habit of picking vegetables off his plate? The boys found that somewhat endearing (except for Ignis, of course, who considered it quite a hassle). They were constantly impressed with Noctis’ fighting skills, and despite Noctis’ flaws, his boyfriends loved him dearly.
However, there was one thing that proved to be a bit more tedious than Noctis’ other traits.
His stubbornness when it came to sleep. 
They all knew this, Noctis had been like this since he was a kid. Ignis remembers having to drag him out of bed. Gladio remembers trying to convince a very sleepy prince to train with him. Prompto remembers seeing Noctis fall asleep in class when the lesson wasn’t very exciting. It’d always been a problem, and while they could all admit that Noctis was quite cute when he slept, getting him out of bed was another story.
Ignis, as per usual, was awake before the alarm had even gone off. He’d always woken up early to prepare breakfast for everyone. When the alarm went off, Prompto was the first one awake, groaning and sitting up to face Ignis.
“G’morning,” Prompto mumbled, shielding his eyes from the daylight peeking into the tent.
“Morning,” Gladio was up next. 
The three boys looked over at Noctis, who was still curled up in his sleeping bag. Ignis put the alarm closer to the sleeping prince, hoping that would motivate him.
It did not.
“C’mooon Noct! Wake up!” Prompto pestered. “We can’t get moving if you don’t get moving!” 
“Prompto’s right, Noct,” Ignis shook Noctis’ shoulder gently. “I know you can hear us.”
Noctis proceeded to groan in response, further curling up in his cocoon. He put his pillow over his head and mumbled something into it. 
“You’ll have to speak up, Your Highness,” Gladio chuckled. “We can’t hear you.”
“Five more minutes...” The prince repeated, this time removing his face from the pillow. 
“You say that every day!” Prompto complained, and he wasn’t wrong, either. Noctis always asked for extra time to sleep, especially when they had someplace to be. “Don’t you wanna get the car fixed?”
No response. 
“Noct, we’ve gotta get moving. Here, I’ll help you up,” Gladio pulled on Noctis’ sleeping bag.
Again, no response.
If anything, it only made Noctis bury himself deeper into his warm sleeping bag. Prompto and Gladio looked at each other, and then looked over at Ignis. They watched as Ignis shuffled towards the sleeping prince.
“Noct, if you don’t get up, I’ll have to make you,” said Ignis. Prompto and Gladio exchanged glances, before looking back at Ignis. 
Noctis simply grunted in response. 
Rolling his eyes, Ignis reached his hand underneath Noctis’ sleeping bag and located his neck. Upon contact, he felt the prince shudder.
Ah yes, another thing that the boys adored about Noctis. Something no one would’ve ever guessed from his outside demeanour.
Noctis was extremely ticklish.  
While each of the boys shared their own set of weak spots, none of them came close to Noctis’ sensitivity when it came to the lightest of touches. He would squeak, snort and squirm at the gentlest brush to the sides, or the softest kiss to the neck. While it remained a secret to the four of them, Noctis’ boyfriends couldn’t help themselves but take advantage of it at every opportunity. 
Ignis dragged a single finger down the length of Noctis’ neck, and then up again right up to underneath his ears. Noct’s shoulders came up to try and defend against the ticklish sensation, but Ignis’ fingers would somehow find a way to worm around his defences. 
“I-Ignis...” Noctis stuttered, trying to keep himself from giggling. 
Gladio and Prompto quickly caught onto Ignis’ plan, creeping over to each side of the raven-haired prince, ensuring he couldn’t escape. 
“Last chance, princess,” Gladio smirked. “You either wake up, or we tickle you half to death.” Prompto giggled at that, seeming way too excited. 
As expected, the prince didn’t say a word.
Ignis chuckled, hoisting Noctis by the arms and dragging him further out of his sleeping bag. Noctis grumbled, trying to fight off Ignis, and immediately started complaining.
“‘s just five minutes...” He mumbled, clearly still half-asleep. His head sat in Ignis’ lap, and in any other situation Noctis’ would’ve liked using Ignis’ thighs as a pillow. “Just lemme- h-hey... whaha?! Hehehey!” Ignis had began digging his fingers into Noctis’ underarms while he was complaining, allowing giggles to freely flow out of his mouth.
“We have you plenty of time to reconsider, Noct!” Prompto laughed, his fingers scritching the sides of Noctis’ ribs. His giggles rose in volume, and he arched his back to try and escape Prompto’s fingers.
“Ahaha!! P-Prom! S-Stop it!” He squeaked when Gladio’s hands joined in, squeezing his sides and massaging them in a way that tickled really badly. Noctis’ giggles turned into laughter as his boyfriends tormented him.
“Still as ticklish as ever,” Gladio commented. He noticed Noctis’ face flush at the statement, and Prompto must’ve as well.
“Aww, what’s the matter? Is our little prince too ticklish for his own good?~” Prompto teased, his fingers now targeting Nocti’s lower ribs, a spot he knew to be quite sensitive. 
“Dohohon’t sahAHAHAY THAT!!” Noctis squealed, squirming to get out of Ignis’ hold. Ignis now had him trapped with his hands under the adviser’s knees, allowing him easy access to his underarms and ribs. 
“What, you don’t like being told you’re ticklish? Is that it?” Ignis smirked. “You don’t want to be reminded of how sensitive you are?” 
Noctis didn’t know whether to shake his head and lie, or nod and admit the truth. He’d get tickled no matter what he did. Before he could make a decision however, he felt Gladio straddle his waist and Prompto sit on his ankles. They’d stopped their previous ministrations to settle into their positions, and Noctis realized he was in trouble.
Oh Gods.
“Okay! Okay, I’m awake!!” Noctis pleaded. “I’ll get up!”
“Oh, dear, Noct,” Ignis chuckled. “You were so adamant on staying asleep a minute ago... Whatever changed your mind?”
“You know what!”
“Hmm... I don’t seem to recall... Was it because I was doing... this?” A poke to his ribs. “Or this?” Another poke, this time to his neck. “Or... perhaps it was this?” He gave the spot underneath Noctis’ ear a small scratch, and the prince became undone. What was worse is that he could feel Gladio lifting up his shirt, and Prompto’s fingers holding his toes back. 
“N-No... nonono p-please, Specs, I’ll do anything,” Noctis found himself begging, something he wouldn’t do unless in a situation with tickling involved, of all things.
“Anything?” 
“Anything!”
“Then perish.”
With that, all of Noctis’ worst spots were targeted, and he screamed bloody murder upon first contact. Between the shrieks and howls he could feel Ignis scratching at that one soft spot underneath his ears, a spot that would make him melt in seconds. He could feel Gladio’s calloused fingers scritching at his tummy, chuckling at the way Noctis arched his back as if he was asking for more. But most of all, he could feel Prompto’s fingers tickling underneath his toes, his worst spot. 
Noctis could say he was definitely awake now.
“So, how about it, princess? You gonna get up now?” Gladio asked, leaning down to blow a raspberry on Noctis’ tummy, which in turn made him shriek.
“YEHEHE-! YEHEHEHEHES!!! G-GODS, I’M AWAHAHAKE!!” The prince yelled, and the tickling stopped. His boyfriends didn’t move, however, still pinning him to the ground. Residual giggles bubbled out of Noctis uncontrollably, and Prompto couldn’t help but giggle with him.
“Dude, I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone as ticklish as you,” Prompto teased, giving Noctis’ foot a tiny poke, watching as his other foot came in front to protect it. The blonde giggled at this.
“I-I’m not... that bad...” Noctis panted, his face flushed completely red.
“You are,” Gladio said, running his hands over Noctis’ tummy, watching the boy underneath him squirm and squeak. “See? Can’t even give you a belly rub without you gettin’ all giggly.”
“Ohohokay!! I get it!!” Noctis giggled, and when Gladio stopped, he opened his eyes to see Ignis staring at him.
“Oh, don’t be worried about it, darling,” said Ignis. “It’s absolutely adorable.”
Noct whined, pouting and crossing his arms. That didn’t last long though, as Gladio gave him one last poke to the side before climbing off of him. Ignis and Prompto followed, and they watched as Noctis sat up and rubbed his eyes. 
As Ignis prepared breakfast, with Prompto and Gladio fooling around on the campsite, Noctis couldn’t help but think how grateful he was for his evil boyfriends. 
I guess I won’t be sleeping in anytime soon...
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yandere-flower · 3 years
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I cant stop thinking of Cliff. Thank you for creating him!!
“Is this really OK?”
“It's my library.” His hand is warm on the low of your back as he guides you into the impressive study, dark rich mahogany bookshelves and books adorning each wall, with an impressive desk in the corner and a slightly larger table in the centre.
“I know, I mean the school or-”
“Giving students extra help and guidance with course work is not against school rules.” He sounds amused and your face heats in embarrassment.
Alone in their private residence? You’re doubtful but you don't say it out loud instead you just nod, letting him direct you to the table in the centre of the room. Unable to stop your gaze from roaming over the shelves, your fingers twitching with the need to run your fingers over the spines and see what delights you could find. He notices and gives you a smile as he puts his briefcase down beside his chair. “Be a good girl and get your work done and I’ll let you look through to your heart’s content.” He winks as he says it and you’re pretty sure you’re about to burst into flames. You squeak and stutter out a thank you that has his grin widening. Cliff had picked up on your need for praise pretty early on, and loved how reactive you could be to his words.
You're not sure why you’re so nervous. Too many true crime podcasts, too many warnings drilled into you by your parents about going off on your own with men you don’t know.
But Cliff is your professor, you knowhim, technically. He's nice and charming and even paid for half your groceries once when he'd bumped into you at the store and you didn't have quite enough cash. You'd sworn you'd had your wallet at the time but you couldn't find it, and he’d stepped in like your knight in shining armour just as you were about to die from embarrassment. You’d just been about to give up the next morning and phone the bank, after frantically searching all night, and have all your cards recorded stolen when Cliff had knocked on your apartment door to hand it back to you, saying he'd found it on the floor of the classroom. After getting over your surprise at seeing him at your door you’d invited him in, he’d refused to let you pay him back, but had laughingly accepted coffee and shared half your breakfast pastry as thanks. He sits down opposite you now, after bringing over several books and leaning over your shoulder, pointing out passages and chapters that would have the most relevant information to help you with your paper.
The first hour of your study session flies by, Cliff is helpful, charming and helps you digest the material with humour and patience. He leaves you to it after a while, content to sit and flick through his own paper work as you both work in relative silence. To engrossed with the book in front of you, you don't notice the way Cliff is watching you, has been watching you for the past half an hour. The way his eyes zero in on your lips when you bite your lip in concentration, or the way he subtle shifts his hips and spreads his legs a little wider under the table.
He's so hard it hurts. He waits until you are focused and writing something intently before he slides his hand between his legs to squeeze himself roughly, trying to relieve some of the ache. Fuck he needs a break.
“A drink?” His voice startles you and you look up at him as he clarifies. “Tea? We have an hour left, we should take a quick break.”
“I- yes please.”
He leaves you with your nose buried back into the text book you’ve been devouring all session, leaving the door open behind him as he makes his way to the kitchen.
He immediately leans back against the sink and he unzips his pants, releasing his aching cock with a relieved sigh. He's not felt this riled up or this constantly aroused since he was a young man. He grunts softly as he curls his hand around his cock. He needs to be quiet and he needs to be quick. He glances towards the open door as he starts to stroke his cock. He’s almost tempted to move closer to the door, to see if he can see you as he touches himself, but he resists the temptation. Spitting into his palm he circles his thumb around the tip, spreading the precum down his shaft. It gets a soft grunt out of him, and he speeds up his touch. He feels like a teenager, a horny teenager who can’t keep it in his pants, and it’s all your fault. Your eyes, your smile, those thighs. The way you get so passionate and excited during his lessons, it’s just -
“Cliff?”
Fuck. Cliff bites down on his tongue to keep from making any noise, your soft voice calling his name is enough to send him over the edge into a hard, toe curling orgasm, his back arching and digging painfully into the edge of the sink. He’s breathing hard as he tries to come down from his high, continuing to slowly stroke himself as he eyes the splashes of cum he’s left over the floor. He’s oddly proud and a little surprised at the amount, and the thought of what it would look like painted across your thighs flitters across his mind. He closes his eyes, cursing under his breath as he tries to calm down. “Cliff? Can I help?”
He jerks at your question, hand clenching around his cock, you’re trying to kill him, before replying in the negative, blaming Antonio for putting things back in the wrong place for why he’s taking so long. His orgasm has left him calmer, but the tingle of arousal at having you so close and alone is still zipping down his spine. He eyes a bottle of wine as he cleans himself up, but decides that's pushing it a little too quickly. It's your first time over, and you're less shy with him than you used to be but you're obviously still a little skittish. Best not to push his luck.
He grabs the tea and quickly pours some hot water in to two cups, the little dark voice in the back of his head nagging at him to slip a little something in it, but he picks up the cups and returns to you quickly, before he can give in and listen to it.
“Thank you.”
You give him a smile as he puts the cup down in front of you and his cock twitches in response.
It's a little inconvenient, how quickly and easily you can turn him on, especially during class, but it's exciting too, the effect you have over him and he can't wait to find out if he has the same effect on you. He returns your smile as he sits back down, already half hard again and holds eye contact as he shifts his weight, stretching one leg out in front him until he nudges your calf. You don't pull away from the touch, but your face reddens and you duck your head and god does he want to ruin you right then and there.
"Drink your tea, you've done well tonight, you deserve a break."
You're flush deepens as you start to nibble on your bottom lip and he's glad you're looking down at your text book because he can't stop the way his hips rock up slightly at the small glimpse of your tongue. "But if you're good and can finish another chapter before our last hour is up, I might even give you a lift home."
You laugh quietly at his tease even as the praise sends goosebumps across your skin, sucking at the tip of your thumb as you pick up your pen again. It’s a nervous habit you have that Cliff adores. One he watches carefully now, even as he swears loudly in his head. He's going to have to excuse himself again before the hour is up.
thank you I am hyperventilating
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subbing-for-clones · 4 years
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The New Apprentice Part 4
Maul x sith!reader 
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Word Count: 3k
WARNINGS: Fear, graphic depictions of death and fire, slight gore. Mentions of slavery again, being tortured. Thoughts of suicide. But I promise it's also fluffy.
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       Without a sun to draw you from your slumber this ‘morning’ you were not the first one to wake. When you opened your eyes there was a dim light from a data pad a few inches from your face. Headlining something about a new attack against the Duchess of Mandalore by a terrorist group. Your head was too fuzzy to make the words out so you simply closed them again. Bringing you back into the world were two realizations. One, your head was gently rising and falling. Two, you felt warm fingers drawing light, rhythmic circles on your lower back. If you weren't slightly hung over you would have sworn that you heard a gentle purr beneath your ear.
    You caressed your cheek on whatever you were laying on. "Are you awake dear?" That low velvety voice you recognized asked you. Opening your eyes again, fighting through the daze you took in the details around you. Your arm was wrapped around Maul’s waist while your leg lay over the top of his thighs supporting the back of the data-pad. His lovely red and tattooed fingers brushed against your thigh as he held the device in place and slowly scrolled through the article. You tilted your head up to your master quickly realizing how close your faces were. He smirked down at your heavily lidded eyes. "How's your head?"
"Not as bad as I would've guessed if I'm being honest."
"Good." He stated turning his attention back to the news article. "I would've made some caf but as you can see you've kept me pinned to this spot all morning." Redirecting your eyes to the story he was reading you stated simply, "eh I'm not sorry. If you wanted your caf that bad you would have just moved me or woken me up for that matter." You felt the rumble in his chest as he chuckled.
"You're not wrong."
    A few more minutes passed in a comfortable silence; you hadn't moved. Maul made a mental note of your comfortability as well as his own. You didn't know this but you were the first living thing to touch him so gently and for so long. Every time your skin came into contact with his made him feel like it was a first and every time you parted, he feared it would be the last. You yourself hadn't been touched kindly in quite a long time either and relished in the contact. Grateful for now that it wasn't talked about. It just happened.
"Do you think this Mandalorian Duchess will be assassinated?" You asked.
"Not if the Death Watch wish to seize power. The people of the planet wouldn't support them. She has the love of her citizens for now and that I believe is what's keeping her in her station." You hummed in agreement at his statement.
    Maul sighed and put the data-pad on the table next to the bed and ran his fingers through your hair absent-mindedly. You looked up at him. He ran his thumb across your cheek and gazed into the eclipse of your eyes. His own pupils dilated just slightly before he blinked and looked away.
"Come, as comfortable as this is, we should both get some food in our systems." Your stomach rumbled just as he said this causing him to smirk. "It seems as though my timing, as usual, is perfect."
    Reluctantly you rolled over and stretched, causing the tunic you wore to rise dangerously high. Maul noticed this. The two of you made your way to the common area. He made the caf and you fried up some large mystery eggs you found in the cooler after verifying with him that they were in fact food.
"So master, what's on the schedule today?" You asked before stuffing your mouth greedily with the hot breakfast.
"You're going to practice your patience. Meditation. I was lax with you yesterday but were going to be traveling quite a bit and we can't play sabacc constantly."
"Anything I should focus on?"
"Well albeit odd, you made quite the connection with that rancor. See if you can't reach out and keep tabs on him. Or something else of your choosing. Try to reach out as far as you possibly can. I'm interested in your limits." You nodded your head and drank your caf.
    You spent some time stretching before sitting down back-to-back with your master on the floor. You closed your eyes and allowed the heavy blanket of the force to swallow you up until you no longer felt the metal floor beneath you.
    Images of the forest on Dathomir became clear. The swaying of the surroundings as if you were looking through Angel's eyes. You were glad he was okay. Then something else tried to take over. You let it happen. The old man who taught you sabacc appeared. "There's no need to hide little one. I won't sell you off or hurt you. You look hungry. Here.... where are your parents?"
    The vision changed and you were standing in the center of your village. The jedi that came to test you spoke without feeling, without caring, "no we can't take her. She’s far too emotional, chaotic even. If we teach her to use the force she will only be consumed by hatred, evil and darkness." Tears fell from your small eyes, only three or four years old. "I'm not evil..." Then everything was burning, your friends were screaming and you ran. You ran to your home which was overwhelmed by the inferno. Your mother was crawling out of the front door on her belly completely engulfed in the flames. Her skin half burned away and eyes melting. She tried to say something to you but the only sound she could muster was a throaty gurgle of blood before her life rattled away.
    You turned to run, your mother's gurgling screaming in your ears. You kept sprinting until you were older, chasing a small prey animal in the wilds of an unknown planet you had traveled to while stowed away on a transport. Catching it in your hands, you were so hungry you tore into the crying creature, blood dripping down your chin.
    More fire blazed around you. Mountains of scrap. Again, you were eating live vermin but your legs didn't feel like yours. You couldn't feel them at all. Eight spindly legs of scrap clumsily carried you down a hole. You screamed a name that felt foreign on your tongue until your throat burned.
    Your arms were chained to a ceiling, dangling you so your toes just brushed the dirt floor. You won't submit. He whipped you until you were drenched in your own blood, convulsing from the electricity but you didn't scream. You didn't cry. You felt your savior's presence like the shadow on a wall. You knew he'd come for you... eventually. All you had to do was hold on. To wait for him.
    There he knelt in front of you. While you were bound in the market place. The Zygerrian removed your blindfold, your eyes cold as he looked into them but your mind screaming "PLEASE. PLEASE TAKE ME. GET ME OUT OF HERE. I DON'T WANT TO BE HERE ANYMORE. I DONT WANT TO BE ANYMORE! IT’D NOT FUCKING WORTH IT!”
    Your eyes shot open. Utterly blown in fear, in rage, in torment. Once again, your master knelt in front of you but it was different this time. His eyes were soft, worried. He wanted to touch you; his hand outstretched but he didn't know if you wanted to be touched. Instinct made you shrink away and bare your teeth, eyes darting rapidly around the ship. Quickly accounting every detail to ensure this wasn't a vision. Once you were almost convinced you crawled back to your master and with a shaky hand you reached and touched his face. You felt him, he was real. Only then did you settle, pushing the beast back down inside you.
    Maul's nails dug into his thighs as he went over in his mind everything he had seen. He looked to you again, you wouldn't meet his gaze.
"Please know I didn't try to go inside your mind Y/N.." he used your name and spoke softly.
"A door appeared in front of me, I didn't know what lay beyond so I opened it and I saw... everything, felt what you felt." He paused "I know you saw one of my memories, before Savage found me."
Only then did you look at him, apologetically. "I'm sorry master I don't know what happened."
"Were you going to kill yourself if I didn't take you from that slaving scum?" Genuine concern shown in his eyes and shame flickered across yours. You sighed a single "yes." He nodded in understanding. He inched a little closer to you. "Do you still think about doing that?"
"Master... it's been 20 years since I lost my family, my village.. and 15 years since that man taught me to play the cards... it had been 15 years since someone cared that I ate or didn't outright try to harm me or kill me. Until you and Savage came along. No, I don't want that anymore." He lunged towards to and pulled you tightly into a fierce embrace. One hand gripping your back and the other woven in your hair.
"Please know my life is better with you in it little one." You inhaled deeply with your face nestled in his neck. Taking in his scent like you'd never smell him again, your arms firm around him as well.
    Without thinking you glanced at the chronometer within your view. "Thirteen hours?!" You exclaimed. "It felt like ten minutes." Maul pulled away from you. "Nothing kills time like sleep or meditation."
"Well now I feel like I need the former." You pinched the bridge of your nose and rubbed one of your temples.
"That’s fine but.... I'm not going to dance around it tonight. You're coming with me again."
"Oh you'll find no argument here." You tried to smile but it twitched.
    You opted to shower before going to sleep. Clean body clean mind, or so you tried to convince yourself. Maul was waiting for you in his bed, chest bare to you and his back leaning up against the wall. The reflection of the data-pad shining across the lenses of his reading glasses. It would have been a sinful sight if your mind hadn’t been otherwise occupied. He looked up at you, sheepishly standing at the foot of his bed. Setting the device down on his bedside table along with his glasses he leaned forward and stretched his hand out to you. Slowly you crawled up and over to him. He pulled you onto his chest and wrapped you up tightly with the soft fabric. Thrumming of his twin hearts easing the anxiety in your belly.
"We will reach our destination tomorrow."
"I've never been to Corellia before. What’s it like.”
“The inhabitants of Corellia have always been known for an insatiable wanderlust which led to a booming ship building economy. It exports talented pilots and ships while importing just about everything. As far as core worlds go, they don’t ask questions other than ‘what are you buying’.”
You replied with a hum and closed your eyes, allowing his hearts beats to lull you to sleep.
    Thinking for just a moment before stifling his worry, Maul brushed his lips lightly to the temple you had rubbed earlier. Feeling a deeper kinship with you after what he had seen and realizing you had a past that wasn’t unlike him own in many ways. He wondered if you found these tender moments with him as intoxicating as he found them? Nothing you had faced in your life stopped you from having fun, finding amusement, allowing yourself to be soft when the opportunity arose. You were stronger than he was in that regard and he admired you for that. He only wanted you to feel kindness from him. He wondered what further depths he would've sunk to if Savage hadn't revived him. He wouldn't have ever known moments like these, where you clung to him in your sleep. He decided he would thank his brother again later.
    Corellia was like nothing you had ever seen before. Tall towers reached for the atmosphere itself but without the insufferable heat and dryness of Zygerria. Beings of every species chattered happily in the streets. The city of Coronet 'the Jewel of Corellia' as many of the lit signs read, was nestled against an expanse of water. Your master had given you a heavy purse of credits and sent you on your way to shop and enjoy the city. Saying only that'd he'd find you when he was done refueling and stocking up on the more boring items needed for your travels. One of the locals pointed you in the direction of Treasure Ship Row. A bazaar that you could supposedly find anything anyone could ever look for; at least, according to the Twi’lek who pointed you in its direction.
    You had never held even a fraction of the money Maul had given you, you felt like a Queen passing through the many shops and held your head high. You had all but forgotten you didn't even have shoes until you found a little shop with lovely dresses in the window.
    The shop girl was kind and inviting despite your disheveled appearance. Sure that she had taken note of the large purse that hung from your hip. She aided in your search until you had a nice stack of both appealing and practical clothing.
    You allowed yourself to be pampered at a nearby day spa the clerk had recommended to you so that you didn’t get your new clothes and shoes dirty so quickly. Utterly famished after your day you found a relatively clean little bar deeper inside the Blue Sector.
    Taking a seat at the counter it didn't take long before a deep voiced Kel Dor took your order. Flashing a grateful smile, you dug into your fried Nuna Legs and sipped from a glass of red wine. A handsome Chiss, you assumed was a mechanic by his dress, took the seat next to you at the counter and gave you a wanting side eye.
"No." You stated curtly not looking up from your glass.
"You don't even know what I was going to ask." He smiled and ordered a malt liquor while the Kel Dor poured you a second.
"The nature of your question doesn't matter. The answer is no." You hadn't turned to him until he chuckled. You raised your brow.
"I was going to ask what a lovely flower like you was doing here. That's not a yes or no question." Sighing you turned to him realizing that you weren't going to get rid of him so easily. You eyed him slowly, he really was handsome despite the streak of grease across his cheek. He flashed you a charming smile you were sure he had rehearsed.
"I can see you've enjoyed the market."
"I have. And although I must say I appreciate the red of your eyes, this lovely flower prefers her companions to have thorns rather than grease stains." You turned back towards your drink sensing your master before you saw him.
"What’s that supposed to mean?" The Chiss asked genuinely confused. You smirked into your drink when you heard Maul clear his throat. The stranger looked back vaguely frustrated and widened his eyes as your master removed his hood revealing his crown of ivory horns.
"Oh, don't be frightened on my account. You're doing wonderfully."
The Chiss quickly left the seat and your master called out to him with a complete lack of tone or emotion. "No, don't go. I'd hate to take your seat."
Both you and the Kel Dorrian bar keep chuckled at his candor as Maul took the newly freed seat swinging back the drink the stranger had left. He smirked at you, noting your black cotton romper, keeping the style of a plunging neckline but now your arms bare and your legs covered. He also noticed your newly painted red nails and ruby studs in your ears.
"Wealth looks good on you."
"Wealth looks good on anyone who knows how to spend it." you quirked the corner of your mouth up and tossed the purse back to your master keeping a small handful.
"Is the ship ready?"
"Ah yes, your destiny awaits little one."
    You gestured to the man behind the bar and settled your tab, giving him a generous tip. He flustered at the gesture, only answering him with beaming smile. Maul stood and offered you his elbow which you gladly accepted and the two of you sauntered out of the bar, not before blowing a kiss towards the irritated Chiss.
    Maul liked the idea of men trying to woo you only to be met with rejection much more than he thought he would. He liked having the eyes of men who wanted you on him as he led you out of the establishment. He had appreciated your looks before, albeit a wild kind of beauty. He had never imagined you to clean up so well though, adorning his colors of black and red. He allowed his mind to drift to the thought of ruling with you by his side, with your chin held high and the power emanating from your soul, you looked incredibly regal with this newfound confidence. Was this your standard demeanor when you weren’t in the role of a student with her master?
    You boarded your ship and sat next to your master in the co-pilot’s chair your eyes lit with excitement. "To Malachor?"
"Yes my dear, to Malachor."
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blackenedwhite97 · 4 years
Text
Pregnant Panic- Poly! Erasermic x Reader
Hello! this was a requested fic from quite some time ago. I'll be catching up at some point, i'm in my final year of university so update will be more spaced out for the next few months.
Content Warning: Discussions of paternity, some medically accurate potentially a little gross conversations and mentions and depictions of anxiety and panic.
This story includes and Polyamorous relationship
Polyamory: the practice of engaging in multiple sexual relationships with the consent of all the people involved.
It was killing them. You’d think with how tired and unwell Shouta looked and how uncomfortable Hizashi seemed that they were the pregnant ones. Shouta was the most stressed you’d ever seen him, not because he didn’t want a child but because he was scared he’d be a bad father. You’d stayed up many late nights with him, looking out at the dark city skyline through the living room window, him drumming up ways he’d fail as a father and you countering them with rationale and reassurance. He wanted to be there, he wanted to be present. You all knew he was around the least; he was a teacher during the day and a full-time hero at night. Hizashi was usually home at night, at least.
Hizashi wanted two things. The first, to be as good of a dad as he knew Shouta was going to be. The second, to know which one of them had knocked you up. Hizashi, unlike Shouta had full confidence in Shouta’s ability as a father. Hizashi also had confidence in his own ability to be a father. Yet, and you assumed it was natural, the two of them compared themselves to each other constantly. They both felt like they had to fill a role that was usually filled by only one parent, a father. In regard to his second wish: It was driving him insane. Hizashi didn’t want to know for the reason of ascertaining who the “real” dad was, it was more of a who’s quirk we might have to deal with.
While it’s not a given that a child’s quirk is going to be the same as your parents, it’s still a possibility. A possibility some families count on so greatly that they arrange marriages based on quirk compatibility to keep their bloodline strong and on the top tiers of society. Your little mismatched family never worried about that sort of thing, whether this child was a telekinetic like you, made your ears bleed when they threw a tantrum like Hizashi or could shut his dad up like Shouta, or even if they were quirkless you’d all love them with every fiber of your beings.
This was going to be one lucky kid.
Hizashi was squirming around in his chair, his legs going from being slung over the arm rest to being tucked underneath him. Shouta was as still as a statue save the tip of his boot where his toes were wiggling with nervous energy. Hizashi shifted his position for the umpteenth time, his legs swinging around towards Shouta, their knees bumping. Shouta shot out his hand and gripped Hizashi’s knee, holding him in place.
“Stop squirming.” He grumbled.
Hizashi stilled and slumped back, splaying his limbs out dramatically. “Babe, come here.”
Hizashi looked slide long at you through his lashes and a grinned, waving you over.
“Sure, yeah. Hold on, lemme just-” you placed a hand under your swollen stomach as if that would help carry any of the weight and hopped off the examination table. You landed in a wide stance, almost losing your balance from the nearly one-foot drop. It was pitiful, since you’d started to really show it was almost like all of your hero training went straight out the door. Mind you, your hips were wider than they’d ever been, and you were twenty-seven pounds heavier than you’d ever been. You also constantly had a little critter kicking you in your bladder, which was very new.
You waddled towards Hizashi, the smallest of grins pulling at Shouta’s mouth as he watched you. He found your knew range of mobility highly entertaining. You stopped just short of Hizashi’s wildly splayed out feet, nudging one with the toe of your shoe.
“Can you stand behind me for a sec?’ Hizashi sat up straight. “I wanna try something.”
“Okay?” you raised an eyebrow but waddled around him anyways.
As soon as you were behind him he leaned back in his chair and propped his head back on your belly. He closed his eyes and sighed in contentment. “Now, I’m comfy.”
You stared down at him as he fought a stupid grin, trying to keep his face serene. Goof. “I’m glad our kid is already good for something.” You sighed, stroking the top if Hizashi’s head and smoothing his hair back.
Shouta blinked, his brows knitting together. “You are such a dad already.”
“Been practicing!” Hizashi quipped, shooting up and snapping one of his fingers into a gun.
Shouta rolled his eyes but couldn’t help himself and chuckled.
The door to the examination room opened and in walked a kind looking older woman with deep smile lines and dark shining eyes. She looked like she worked with babies for a living, there was a pure unadulterated kindness about her. “Mrs. Y/L/N?”
“Hi, yeah that’s me.” You turned towards her and stretched out a hand.
She took it with a smile and eyed the two men in the chairs. “Which one of you is the father?”
The three of you had agreed when this all started happening for the sake of appointments that weren’t with doctors you’d be seeing regularly Shouta was going to be the father. It was hard enough explaining that the three of you were together romantically anyways, add a baby in and the fact that you don’t know which one of them was the biological father and you have a proper scandal. Out of the three of you Hizashi was the most recognizable and had the closest thing you could equivalate to a fan base so Shouta felt that in order to keep a sense of privacy around all of this he’d be the place holder father. You’re doctor and OB GYN both understood the whole situation, of course they needed to. Both had been in favor of a paternity during the pregnancy, which you had wanted to fore go until after the birth. At this point in the pregnancy it would have to be an invasive test and with this being your first child the three of you were so nervous you didn’t want to even consider taking that chance.
Shouta cleared his throat and stood up, reaching out for a hand shake as well. “That would be me.”
Hizashi shrunk down in his chair, he had agreed to this prearrangement, but it still stung a bit. You placed a brief set of comforting pats on his shoulder and he straightened up a bit.
“Right,” the kind eyed woman took his hand. “everything seems to be going well and on track. If you wanted to go over specific we could step into another room?”
She eyed Hizashi, and curious look about her. It was probably rare to see a friend sitting in on any sort of appointment. You shook your head and spoke up.
“Oh, he’s here to help us keep track of everything. I have total baby brain and Sho gets… overwhelmed.” You smiled at her reassuringly, trying to normalize the situation.
“O-okay.” She looked down at the clip board in her hand and skimmed the page. “The only thing I would say is out of the ordinary is that all signs are pointing to a later birth than expected. This is completely normal, of course. There are a few options if we feel as though the little one if take their sweet time a little too seriously such as inducing birth.”
You looked down at your swollen belly, your little one didn’t even stir. Why would they want to leave anyways, the little shit was swaddled in warmth and had a direct line to all the caving food you were constantly supplied with. Aside from the waddling, miniscule range of motion, tiny bladder and hip and back pain you didn’t mind being pregnant too much. The boys were totally whipped, which you tried not to take too much advantage of. But you were human and Hizashi was getting really good at baking.
“Inducing how?” Hizashi questioned from his seat.
“W-well,” she looked at you and Shouta for approval before speaking, Shouta nodded. “there are ways to induce labour through hormonal injection as well as more slightingly invasive physical ways, however it all depends on the circumstances. We prefer the less invasive ways for new parents generally speaking.”
Hizashi nodded and there was an awkward silence for a few seconds. The woman looked between the three of you then looked back down at the sheet and began tearing slips off along the perforated lines. “Here are your prescription cards, signed off by Dr. Onishi.”
“Thanks.” You took the slips from her outstretched hands and she slipped out of the room, you could have sworn her polite smile slipped from her face as she closed the door behind her. She sniffed you three out.
“Invasive?” Shouta mumbled. “How invasive?”
Hizashi shrugged as he stood up, grabbing your jacket off the end of the exam table to help you into it. You turned around and let him help you into it, even putting on a jacket was harder when you were this pregnant.
“They’ll stick a plastic hook up my vagina a pop the amniotic sack thing.” You explained, expecting full well the boy’s reactions.
Hizashi shivered violently and let go your jacket, shaking himself out like a dog trying to rid itself of water after a swim. Shouta’s nose flared and his eyes rolled to the side as he frowned.
“Is that painful?” Hizashi asked, his voice still shaky.
“No one on google really said anything about that but it’s safe to assume is they won’t talk about it, it’s not good.” You shrugged.
“Ew.” Hizashi stuck out his tongue like a kid tasting adult food for the first time.
“Yeah, can we uh, stop talking about this?” Shouta, if it had been possible, had paled out. Throughout the pregnancy Shouta had gone from the toughest out of the three of you to the one that was the most squeamish about everything. Sure, Hizashi was over dramatic and very vocal about his thoughts and feelings but he always had been. For Shouta, the idea of your body literally contorting to stabilize itself only for it all the end in hours of screaming, crying and otherworldly pain was too much. Normal injuries? Doable. Anyone could get hurt. Giving birth? That was something only you could do out of the three of you and he didn’t like that.
“Sure.” You smiled at him and he hooked his arm under yours as you all made your way out of the building to the busy street outside.
“What’s up for dinner?” Hizashi asked, pulling up his collar against the wind. The winter was blowing in and Japan was in the early stages of grey skies windows and cool winds, not yet covering in heavy snow and frozen streets.
“Um, I kinda forgot it was my night.” You muttered. If you hadn’t been the pregnant you’d have been subject to a somewhat sarcastic lecture at the hands of Hizashi, but you were practically untouchable now-a-days.
“Let’s just pick up something on the way home.” Shouta grumbled.
“I gotta fill my prescriptions, though. We can just go to the grocery store, there’s a pharmacy in the back.” You said.
“I don’t want to make you cook.” Shouta sniffed, the cold air making his nose run. “Plus, it’s cold as hell and the grocery store is refrigerated, I don’t want you getting sick.”
“Sho I can-” you started to protest.
“Dad has spoken.” Hizashi chimed in, wrapping and arm around your shoulder. “We can split, Y/n and I can head home a grab food on the way, and you can go fill her prescriptions?”
“Nice try, Mr. “I-wear- a jacket- all- the-time-for-fashion”. You go get the pills; we’ll get the food. I’m fucking freezing.” Shouta poked Hizashi in the forehead.
“I can’t help that I like the layered look, Sho.” Hizashi huffed. You turned to his and gave him a peck on the tip of his nose, a dopey grin spreading across his lips. God he was easy to butter up, he was such a glutton for physical affection.
You took off you scarf and wrapped it around his neck and handed him your prescription slips. “Your assignment Present Mic.”
“Aye-Aye, Ma’am.” He saluted dramatically.
“You own me a warm drink when I get home!” he added over his shoulder at Shouta who was already wrapping his arms around you as you waited for the walk signal.
Shouta was a furnace as the best of time and a miniature sum at the worst of times. You’d taken his temperature before, worried that he had fevers or worked himself sick in the early days of your relationship. He was always around the normal base line, he just radiated heat like crazy. You sank back into him and let his thick wavy hair curtain around your face. You looked up and make eye contact with his smoldering dark eyes, a soft smile on his lips.
“Hey.” You said.
“Hey.” He hummed into your hair.
“What do you want to eat?” you asked.
“Hmm,” she closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “something warm.”
The cars came to a halt and the walk chime sounded as the pedestrian light lit up. “Ramen it is.” you chirped and skipped awkwardly froward, your splayed hips not exactly made for such enthusiastic movement. He trailed behind you; your hand clasped in his.
The Ramen shop on the way was the kind of shop you couldn’t eat in; it was a thin rectangular shop with just enough room for a line and the counter. You had never minded before but lately the lack of seating options as you waited was less than ideal. You and Shouta had to make do with leaning into each other, him trying to support you but making a makeshift seat with his thighs while she leaned against the wall. The cashier rang a small bell and called your order number with a polite thank-you. You scuttled to the counter and retrieved the expertly packed bags of lidded ramen bowls.
When you made it back to Shouta he was staring down at his phone, his normal peaceful tiredness replaced by an annoyed alertness. He was frowning and pulling away from the wall.
“What’s wrong?” you asked just in time for him to look up at you.
“Uh, there’s an emergency call for heroes. Like, three blocks from here.” He looked as though if he hadn’t been waiting for you to return he’d have already dashed out of the door. It was in his blood, Shouta was a hero and until one the assholes had knocked you up so were you. The splayed hips somewhat dulled that itch to jump into action, but you could remember how it drove you crazy.
“Go.” You nodded. “I can get home.”
“Y-you’re- really?” he turned towards the door and you could see him winding up like a spring action toy.
“Yes, go!” you waved him off. Without another work he was off, the door swinging in the wake of his exit. Although you hated to admit it, this kid had changed more than just your body. You never worried like you did now. You were never so afraid od the average mission or call turning into something catastrophic, you were paranoid about patrols in good neighborhood and rescuing cats from trees. Shouta literally rescued a cat the other night and when he was telling you about it all you could see was him toppling out of the tree and getting hurt. Whenever one of them left for work they would be setting up times to check in, and Hizashi being the chronically late guy that he is had to suddenly start keeping track of time. You didn’t want to raise this kid without either of them and while you all knew full well that it was a possibility with the life you all lived, it still terrified you to no end.
You tried to calm yourself as you stepped out onto the street, people were still milling about, and there was no thirty-foot inferno to speak of so things couldn’t have been that bad. You waddled the rest of the way home, bags of soup sloshing around in your hands, trying to stay calm. You weren’t doing very well. Usually you had at least one of the boys with you or they were together but no doubt Hizashi also had gotten the message. You groaned to yourself, knowing full well he’d also responded.
Your hands were shaking, hoping it was just the cold you rooted around in your pockets for your keys. Getting them in the door was an experience, both frustrating and upsetting in the only the way a pregnant person can attest to. Were the tears running down your face because you couldn’t get the key in the door or because you were a walking rage pile or hormones and anxiety? You whipped angrily at your tears and shoved open the building door, warm air washing over you. At least it was warm.
The building got more and more blurry as you made your way to your apartment, tears fulling your eyes until the lights were just wavering streaks. You were huffing breaths into what felt like air starved lungs, sobs pounding against your cheat trying to break free. You choked them down and rushed through our door, leaving the ramen in the hallway as you slammed the door shut behind you.
You really didn’t feel like being very very pregnant and having a panic attack. You started to pace around, running your hand through the soft blanket across the back of the couch and pressing your palms to the cool counter top as you went back and forth between eh kitchen and living room. Some tears fell but your eyes dried and soon enough your lungs stopped convulsing for air. You were still shaking and a knot was still tight in your gut but you had for the time being subdued the panic. With this new clarity you went you your room and pulled out you professional phone, the battery low having not been used in weeks.
You had also received the distress signal:
10 Ave and 4 St. Grand villain activity: League of Villain members sited at scene of disturbance. Requesting all back up in immediate area. Priority: Containment.
League of Villains. You’re stomach dropped, almost painfully. You gripped onto the sheets of the bed as you slid to your knees, panic rising in your chest again. You knew they were among other heroes, that Hizashi wasn’t a frontline fighter and Shouta would have a horde of heroes trying the keep him in play. You knew this. You also knew them, and that they could be stupid. Shouta had climbed a Goddamned tree the other night FOR A CAT. He could have fallen and died for a CAT. You choked down another sob. Hizashi was always the centre of attention and he did it on purpose. What if he tried to distract the villains and got hurt doing it? He’d done that once before on a mission and came home with a nasty concussion.
What if it was worse this time? What if the League was more organized?
You choked on another sob.
Warm arms wrapped around you and you jumped, trying to pull away.
“Hey, whoa, babe it’s me.” Hizashi hummed calmly. “Shh, it’s okay. It’s Zashi.”
He brought a hand to your head and held you against his chest, scooting closer to you in his crouching position. He kissed the top of your head and rubbed circles into your hair with his thumb and held you like that until you were able to calm yourself. “What happened?”
“I got scared.” You sniffed. “And I’m pregnant.”
“Oh.” Hizashi chuckled, pulling back to look at you. His nose was still rosy from the cold and his hair was swept back in messy waves. “Sorry.”
“You should be.” You punched him the shoulder, once for every word.
“Ow!” he whined, holding his arms up in defense.
“You did this to me!” you wailed. Irrational, yes. Cathartic? Also, yes.
“I refuse to take ownership until we get that paternity test!” he laughed somersaulting away from you.
You were just about to give him a piece of your pregnant mind when you heard Sho enter the apartment and trip over a set of paper bags.
“Y/N?” he called. “Hun? Are you, okay?’
Hizashi jumped to his feet and darted out of the room, shouting wildly. “She’s angry!”
You tried to push yourself up to your feel but couldn’t, slumping back down onto the carpeted floor next to the bed. The threw your hands up in the air frustrated, all that panic from earlier having left your body. Being pregnant was a wild ride, whatever you felt was so strong and so consuming at the time, but it could fade just a quickly as it came.
“I’m stuck!” you pouted.
Shouta crept into the door frame, Hizashi hiding behind him. The two of them melting at the sight of you slumped, cross legged on the floor, belly swollen, unable to move. Shouta grinned, that same entertained grin from earlier. He made his way to you and grabbed your hands hauling you to your feet. You slumped into him, reaching out a hand to motion for Hizashi to join in. Not one to pass up a good group hug Hizashi happily wrapped his long gangling arms around you and Shout, ignoring your grunts and he squeezed.
“That didn’t take long.” You mumbled into Shouta’s chest.
“Illusion base quirk, I erased it and it turned out to be a bunch of low levels trying to make a scene to get away with some cash.” Shouta explained. “You okay?”
You nodded and hummed into his chest.
“You sure? There’s soup in the hallway.” His whiskers rubbed against your forehead.
“The baby got scared.” You muttered.
“Oh?” he hummed, as if in thought. He pulled away from you and knelt down, so he was level with you belly. “Listen up little one, there’s nothing in this world that your parents can’t handle so don’t so around worrying us like that okay?”
Hizashi stooped down and eyed your belly very seriously. “Especially, your mom. She’s already doing all the heavy lifting, dude!”
You dropped your face into your hands a laughed. Yeah, this was one lucky kid.
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jaskierswolf · 3 years
Text
Yes Chef
My fic for the Novigrad Exchange! For the marvelous @ohnomybreadsticks
Ship: Calanthe/Eist Rating: E Summary: Restaurant AU with a healthy dose of smut? I don’t know. I’ll think of a better summary later 😂 AO3 link to come later on!
CW: 18+ smutty time, vaginal sex, oral sex, semi-public (they are alone but in a public setting),
The kitchen was sweltering, the chefs moving around the small space in an intricate dance that only they knew the steps to. The air was filled with a cacophony of smells; slowly roasted barbeque pulled-pork, fried onions and garlic, chocolate brownies. It all wafted around the kitchen in a mess, mouth watering and delicious. For Calanthe, there was nothing better than the hustle and bustle of a professional kitchen. She had been cooking since she was a child, her own grandmother had often let her help around the kitchen and Calanthe had been hooked. There was just something so addictive about creating masterpieces out of nothing. How could flour, butter, sugar become something entirely different? A cake, soft and melting in her mouth, flavours exploding on her tongue, almost better than sex… almost. 
The industry itself attracted Calanthe like a moth to a flame. It was undoubtedly a man’s world, and that pulled her in, the need to prove herself, a competitiveness that drove her forward in life. If there was one thing in love she truly loved, it was proving that the patriarchy was absolutely shit. Whenever there was an opportunity to prove that she was better than a man, she took it, and as she grew older she learned how to use that to her advantage. It didn’t take long for her to rise above her rivals. Her ingenuity and skill in the kitchen was unmatched, and she had a remarkable talent for ruling the roost. When she spoke, people listened. 
Opening her own restaurant had been a dream come true. 
The Jewel of Cintra. 
The cuisine wasn’t fancy but it was clever. She didn’t leave her customers hungry and wanting for more, but it was posh enough that she could charge a decent amount. It was also almost entirely locally sourced. That was the hook. Her restaurant supported local businesses, and she had crafted the menu using old traditional Cintran recipes. She was determined to preserve the Cintran way of life, especially with Nilfgaard slowly taking over the catering industry with their new wave recipes that blended old Southern style flavours with that favoured by the North, creating a brand new fusion.
Calanthe hated it. Cintra had a wealth of history and it was being wiped out.
It did keep her on her toes though, she had to constantly think up new ways to stay ahead, networking at conventions and collaborating with other local restaurants and breweries. It was draining but she thrived on it, and her head waiter, Jaskier, was an absolute blessing. He could charm any customer and handled complaints without even blinking an eye. 
So naturally she was furious when he’d handed in his resignation. The idiot had been snatched right under her nose. He’d gone and fallen in love with the head chef of Kaer Morhen, a gastro pub in Kaedwan, the pair had met at one of the conventions that Jaskier had gone to in her stead. Two months later, her best waiter had announced he was moving to Kaedwan to be closer to Geralt.
And Calanthe was left to replace him. 
The applicants had all been shit. No one could compare to Jaskier, lacking his charisma and easy going attitude. Those who might have stood a chance bristled at the idea of bowing to Calanthe, men who thought they could come into her restaurant and overthrow her. 
The misogynistic pricks.
Yes, the applicants had all been shit… until Eist Tuirseach. He was infuriatingly good, handsome, suave and seemed to already be completely head over heels with her. So, she’d reluctantly hired him. 
And she couldn’t bring herself to regret it. 
“Good morning, Chef!” Eist waved cheerily as she sauntered into the kitchen. He was helping Lambert wipe down the counters before service started. Her sous chef was a talented but prickly young man, and she trusted no one else to get her kitchen in order when she had her rare days off. He’d been trained under Vesemir from Kaer Morhen, but had been eager to escape Kaedwan. His boyfriend, Aiden was her pastry chef and, when they weren’t flirting up a storm in the kitchen, they were some of her most efficient workers. 
Calanthe felt herself blush as Eist winked at her. She blamed the heat of the kitchen. “It’s almost five in the afternoon, Eist,” she shot back. 
“Ah, but that is morning for a chef.” 
Calanthe scoffed. He wasn’t entirely wrong, she was a night owl, most chefs were, if they slept at all, but she’d also seen five in the morning more times than she would have liked. Delivery days were killer, and when they had parties and events most of the team were in the kitchen early for prep. 
“How are the books for tonight, Eist?” She grumbled, getting straight to business. It was easier that way. 
“Fully booked as always, Chef. Nilfgaard wishes they could have our numbers. No one else can compare to your skill and talent, not to mention your beauty,” he said with a caddish grin.
The same smile he’d used to charm her in his interview.
________
“Eist Tuirseach?” Calanthe asked as a handsome young man entered her office. He was well built, roguish in looks, and reminded her of a lost puppy. He smiled brightly at her as he took her hand, his grip strong and firm and for the briefest of moments Calanthe wondered what those hands would feel like caressing her body, rough callouses against her breasts. 
“Aye, that’s me. The Lady Calanthe?” Eist said, smirking as he cocked his head, making his tousled brown hair fall in front of his eyes. 
Her heart skipped a beat in her chest, and she felt a familiar warmth at her core.
Fuck.
Of course he had to be cute. He was the last applicant and she was really really hoping it would be another idiot so she could politely decline Jaskier’s request to leave before his notice was up. She wanted to keep the young waiter for as long as she could. 
“Flattery will get you nowhere,” she lied. “I expect professionalism in my kitchen, and you will refer to me as Chef.” 
And this was the point where most of her applicants had turned tail and run. Eist, however, blushed instead, his tongue flicking out to lick his lips, and there was a definite hunger in his eyes. “Yes, Chef.”
Calanthe swallowed. “Good, now… I have some questions, and at the end if you have any questions for me, you’ll be given the opportunity. Unfortunately my sous chef got called away on a family matter, but if you’d like a second person here, we can rearrange the interview.”
Eist smiled even brighter, adoration and lust shining in his eyes. “No, I think we’ll be just fine, Chef.”
____________
The bastard hadn’t stopped charming her since, and it was taking all her self control not to let him ravish her in the kitchen. They danced around each other and flirted like there was no tomorrow but… well, she didn’t want to give in. She knew what it would look like; the head chef and the head waiter dating. No. She didn’t want to give anyone the opportunity to question her integrity, but after months of being around Eist, she felt weak. The way their fingers brushed whenever she passed a plate over, the easy banter that made her laugh even when she was in a terrible mood at the start of the day, the disappointment she’d felt when Eist had booked off a couple of weeks to visit his family in Skellige. 
The kitchen had felt empty without him. 
And she just wasn’t as good at dealing with complaints. Calanthe had a short temper, and when people complained, she couldn’t help but take it personally. She got defensive and fought back. 
She needed Eist. 
She hated Eist. 
… Or perhaps she loved him. 
“We have a party of eight booked in at half-seven. No known allergies, should be pretty straight forward, but I’ve briefed my team and let your’s know too” Eist hummed, picking up his clipboard. “Most of the other bookings are couples and smaller families.”
“Fuck,” Calanthe hissed. “I hate big groups.”
“I have no doubt that you will be flawless as always, Chef.”
“Getting the plates out in one go is a faff that I could live without,” Calanthe groaned. “Lambert!” She barked. 
Lambert looked up from his station, his hair slicked back and his sleeves rolled back to his arms, revealing an intricate tattoo sleeve that went down to his wrist on his right arm, wolves running through the woods. He strolled over to her, crossing his arms in front of his chest, hazel eyes alert and attentive. 
“Yes Chef?”
“You’re in charge of the party of eight, I want you working with Eist and his team. No fucking around with Aiden, understood?”
“Loud and clear, Chef,” Lambert nodded then smirked. “Can we fuck around after?”
Calanthe rolled her eyes, swatting him over the head with her palm. “Behave, wolf.”
“What?” he gaped, rubbing the back of his head. “You and Eist are worse than us, and you still claim you’re not together!” 
“We’re not together.”
“Not yet, at any rate,” Eist chuckled.
Calanthe shot daggers at her waiter. “Get out of my kitchen, Eist. Before I get you for harassment.”
Eist quirked an eyebrow. “Tell me to stop, Chef, and I will, but you have yet to tell me no. One word, Calanthe,” he paused, giving her a chance to admonish him for using her name whilst they were at work, but he said it so reverently that she was too stunned into silence. “One word and I’ll stop.”
No.
The word should have been easy. 
“Don’t,” she whispered, and his face fell, heartbroken, and she could already tell he wouldn’t argue. “Don’t stop.”
She felt her cheeks burn, and the eyes of their audience were piercing into her soul. So, she cleared her throat. “Right!” she snapped. “Back to work!”
The kitchen burst into life once again, giving her the privacy to wink at her waiter. “Later?” he mouthed at her, and she nodded. 
The dinner service went by in a blur. It was busy enough that she didn’t have to think about anything but the quality of the food her chefs were serving. She’d rolled up her sleeves and got stuck in, flitting about between stations and helping wherever she was needed, supervising and delegating the tasks, running a tight kitchen as she always did. However, that didn’t stop her from feeling a little giddy whenever Eist flew through the double doors, looking like some kind of Oxenfurt actor in his suit, the server’s apron strapped around his waist. 
Anticipation curled in her gut, the heat that crept along her skin was from more than just the ovens. There was a hunger in his eyes whenever he looked at her, and she wanted more. She wondered if his lips were as soft as they looked, whether his beard would scratch against her skin. 
It was all very distracting, but if anyone noticed, they didn’t say anything. 
By the time the kitchen was cleaned up, and she’d dismissed the last of her chefs, it was past midnight. Lambert waved her off with a lewd comment and jumped onto the back of Aiden’s motorcycle, the two of them speeding off along the road. 
“So,” Eist’s voice came from behind her as they stood in the doorway, watching the motorbike drive off into the distance, and Calanthe spun round in a start. “It’s just us.”
Calanthe smirked, her fingers wrapping around Eist’s tie and pulling him in for a kiss. The waiter groaned and went willingly, their lips melding together in a slow and languid kiss, noses bumping as they explored each other’s mouths. The heat crept along Calanthe’s skin, her heart fluttering in her chest. How had she denied this man for so long? She was already soaking, aching at her core with want, and soon, she grew impatient with the pace of the kiss. Nipping at Eist’s lip, she pushed their bodies together, forcing Eist back into the kitchen and towards the kitchen counter. Another day she would love to take this gorgeous man apart, fuck him over the worktops in her kitchen, but that would have to wait. 
She made a mental note to keep her strap in the back of her car. 
She had a very good feeling about Eist.
For now he seemed content to please her. He spun them around, helping her to wriggle out of her trousers and ruined underwear before hoisting her up onto the counter. She gasped into the kiss as his fingers teased her clit, slipping inside her wet cunt with little resistance. Calanthe’s head rolled back, her hands gripping the edge of the cold metal counter. The kitchen was quiet except for the sounds of their moans and his fingers pumping inside her. It was thrilling, everyone had gone home but there was always the off chance that someone would walk in on them. She moaned, rolling her hips to force his fingers deeper inside her. 
“Fuck me, you bastard,” she gasped.
Eist just winked. “Soon, Chef.” 
She expected him to finally unzip his trousers but Eist seemed to have other ideas. The waiter fell to his knees before her, pressing kisses along her inner thigh with a soft groan. Her hands threaded into his soft brown hair, guiding him towards her cunt. If he wasn’t going to fuck her then he’d better put that mouth to good use and she was tired of waiting. Eist’s stubble scratched wonderfully against her skin, a reminder of just how strong this man was, and yet he still knelt eagerly between her legs, as if there was nowhere else he’d rather be. 
“Fuck,” she moaned as Eist’s tongue flicked at her clit, fast and feather light and sinfully good. She thrust forward against his face and he groaned, one hand gripping at her thigh, the other joining his tongue between her wet folds. His fingers pressed inside her as he continued to lick and suck at her clit, moaning as he devoured his feast. 
Calanthe’s fingers stroked through Eist’s hair as he ate her out, hips rolling against his face. She felt like she was on fire, her skin so very sensitive and every lick of his tongue had her moaning, crying out in pleasure. 
“Stop,” she gasped before she could cum. 
Eist groaned but pulled back, staring up at her with dark eyes. His lips were wet and glistening, and he smirked as he wiped his mouth. “Chef?”
Calanthe raised an eyebrow, barely able to catch her breath. “If you don’t get your cock inside me now, there will be consequences.” The waiter closed his eyes and moaned, a visible shudder going through him at her words. With a quick tug on his tie, Eist was once again standing. “If you like eating me out so much-” she purred, “-maybe I’ll have to find something else to feed you with.”
“Calanthe,” Eist groaned. “Do you have any idea what you do to me?”
“Why don’t you show me?” Calanthe challenged.
That seemed to finally spur the waiter into action and he met her lips in a messy kiss, the taste of her own slick on his tongue. She moaned into the kiss, desperate and wanton as he fumbled with the zip of his trousers. There was a telltale rip of foil but when he pushed inside her, fuck, it felt so good. She easily stretched around the girth of his cock but he just filled her so completely.
“I’m not going to last, Chef,” he gasped, lips never leaving her’s. 
She closed her eyes. That wouldn’t be a problem, she was already so close from all his teasing before. “Get on with it!” she snapped, rocking her hips forward to the edge of the counter. 
Every thrust made her cry out, obscene sounds filling her kitchen as they both chased their release. Eist panted as he left messy kisses on her neck, nipping and biting at the tender skin. Her orgasm hit her like fireworks as she clenched around his cock, sparks flying in front of her vision. She gasped wordlessly as he fucked her through the waves of pleasure that just seemed to keep coming. Calanthe swore, the pleasure beginning to wane and her body oversensitive. Eist grunted as he followed her over the edge, his thrusts becoming erratic and desperate. She caught his lips in a sloppy kiss, their breaths mingling as he slowly came back to his senses, slipping out of her with a groan.
She pressed her forehead against his as they panted breathlessly in the otherwise quiet kitchen. One hand gripped onto his shoulders while a leg was still hooked around his waist. There was a disgusting splat on the floor as the condom fell off. Calanthe tried to keep a straight face, she really did but Eist snorted and let out a hearty laugh, his fingers lacing with her’s on the countertop. Mirth bubbled up inside her, a ridiculous giggle escaping her lips as they both looked at the mess on the floor. Soon they were both laughing, hysterically and without any restraint, their post-orgasmic bliss making the whole thing seem utterly hilarious. 
“You’re cleaning that up, Eist.” 
He groaned, capturing her lips in another kiss with a muffled “Yes, Chef.” 
Calanthe rolled her eyes and cupped Eist’s face in her hands. “You can call me Calanthe outside of work, you fool,” she said with a smirk. 
And her partner seemed to melt under her touch. Eist’s face lit up in a dopey smile that made her heart skip a beat. He took her hand in his and bought her fingers up to his lips, his eyes never leaving hers. “Yes… Calanthe.”
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snelbz · 4 years
Text
Lost Time {17}
A/N: Shit’s about to hit the fan. :) Another chapter written with @tacmc​.
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Azriel was waiting in the kitchen, trying to distract himself to pass the time. He wasn’t dressed in anything fancy, and he knew Elain wouldn't be either, but she still made him wait. He’d only been waiting for twenty minutes or so, and he was already on his second cup of coffee.
It was a big day.
He needed the energy.
Miryam had just come to pick Novan up, excited to spend the afternoon with him. She’d tried to give Azriel a comforting talk, sensing his nerves, but he hadn’t heard a word she had said.
He checked the time.
“Elain!” He called, standing at the bottom of the stairs. “It’s almost noon!”
“Be right down!” Her voice floated down the hall and he shook his head, laughing quietly.
Of course Elain, the most punctual woman in all of Velaris, would be late to her own wedding.
Neither of them felt that a traditional wedding ceremony was necessary after all that they’d been through. They didn’t want to send out the invitations and wait for replies and pick out linens and dessert menus. After four years, they wanted to pick up right back where they’d left off.
So that’s exactly what they did.
Azriel heard heels clicking down the stairs and he walked that way from the living room. When he met Elain at the bottom, he was speechless.
The ivory dress she wore was elegant, but its simplicity allowed the beauty of the woman wearing it to shine through. And not only did she shine, Elain glowed.
Azriel took her hand as she reached the main floor and he kissed her lips softly. “You are stunning.”
She blushed and pushed him away. “Hush.”
“No,” he breathed, smiling down at her. She leaned up on her toes, kissing him one more time, and he asked, “Are you ready?”
She nodded, beaming. “Do you have the rings?”
Smiling, he patted his pocket. “Yep, and a surprise from Mom in the kitchen.”
Elain’s eyebrows rose, but she headed that direction.
Azriel followed closely behind and when she saw the handmade bouquet, her reaction was everything he hoped it would be.
Elain came to a slow stop as she neared the table, her hand coming up to cover her parted lips as she beheld the pink and white roses, the eucalyptus leaves and baby's breath, tied together with a strip of burlap, straight from Miryam’s garden.
“She wanted you to have something to make it seem more…” Azriel’s words trailed off as he searched for the right word. “Like a wedding,” he finished, at last.
“I love it,” she breathed.
Azriel cleared his throat as she turned back around, her eyes misty and bright. He took her hands. “I know this is what you said you wanted, El, but if you want an actual wedding-.”
“No,” she interrupted him, softly. “I want to be your wife, and I want to be your wife, right now. It’s already long overdue.” When she reached up to press her palm against his clean-shaven cheek, he leaned into her touch. “And our appointment is in twenty minutes, so you better get me there quickly, Mr. Draeven.”
He snorted, laying his hand over her own and turning his face to kiss her palm. “I’m not the one who took two hours to get ready.”
She leaned up and kissed him one last time before saying, “A girl only gets ready for her wedding day once.”
With a barked laugh from Azriel, they were out the door and on the way to the little chapel on the Sidra.
The ceremony was sweet, simple, and, most importantly, quick. Not even an hour later, Elain and Azriel were on their way back to the house, matching silver bands on their left hands.
“So, Mrs. Draeven,” he mused, his hand on her thigh as he drove. She sat in the middle of the truck bench, the beautiful bouquet buckled into the passenger seat. “What now?”
The smile on his face was infectious, but the smirk on Elain’s lips had his eyebrows raising. “Well, you already knocked me up,” she chuckled.
He winked. “Twice.”
She threw her head back and laughed. “We’re horrible at this whole birth control thing.”
“The first time we were eighteen,” he said with a shrug. “It happens.”
“And surprise baby number two?” She asked, shaking her head. “What’s our excuse this time?”
He opened his mouth to reply, but then closed it and shook his head. “I’m really bad at pulling out?”
Her laughter was louder as she nudged him in the shoulder. “Obviously, but I’m not complaining.”
His grin was wide, radiant, as he took her hand and squeezed her fingers. “I’m not either.” He looked over at her, his eyes going soft as he pulled up to a red light. “I’m so happy, Lainy.”
“I am, too,” she breathed, her eyes lining with silver as the light turned green, and they were moving, once more.
“We have three hours before we have to be at mom’s,” he said, quietly, turning onto their street.
“What are you implying?” she whispered, eyes lit up.
“It’s not official until I take you to bed,” he said, his small smile full of amusement.
“It that so?” she asked, keeping her eyes on him as he pulled into their driveway.
“Mhmm,” he crooned. “So, we better make it official before we do anything else.”
He put the car in park before getting out and rounding the truck to open Elain’s door. After she took his hand and hopped down, Azriel was scooping her up into his arms and carrying her up the front porch steps.
“I’m a sucker for tradition,” he chuckled when she looked up at him, delight in her eyes.
She laughed, wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing him lightly. “Okay, tradition. I’d like to reiterate that I’m almost four months pregnant.”
“Yeah,” he smiled and opened the front door without even jostling her. He carried her across the threshold and without pausing to put her down, he was heading right up the stairs. “It’s tradition that I knock you up before our wedding. Now I’ve traditionally carried you across the threshold of our home and I’m going to traditionally go upstairs and make love to my wife, for- how long until we have to be at my mom’s?”
She chuckled and said, “We told everyone we’d be there at four.”
“Then about three hours,” he said, letting his lips drag across her skin.
As if on cue, Elain’s stomach growled as they were entering their bedroom and he added, “Right after I go get her a snack.”
She blushed as he set her down on the bed. “It’s the baby, not me.”
He chuckled and shook his head, leaning down to press a kiss to her forehead. “Whatever you say, my love.”
Azriel hurried downstairs, stopping at the truck to get Elain’s bouquet and return it to the water it had been in earlier. He then grabbed her standard The baby is hungry snack from the past few weeks - a string cheese and three mini powdered donuts - and was heading back up the stairs, when he heard the quiet moan and froze. He heard it again and picked up the pace.
He wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but finding Elain naked on their bed, her fingers already inside of her, was not it.
Her snack was quickly forgotten.
—————
Just after four, they were pulling up to Miryam’s house, the rest of their family having already arrived. After Azriel put the car in park, he was looking over at his wife, his eyes soft and full of adoration.
“How mad do you think mom would be if I just took you back home so we could keep doing what we were doing?” Azriel whispered.
Elain laughed, rolling her eyes as she got out of the car. “Come on, hubby, let’s celebrate.”
With a chuckle, and a hefty yawn, Azriel followed her lead, taking her hand as they made their way up to the backdoor. Over the last three hours, Elain had completely worn Azriel out. Not that he was complaining, but he had no idea how he was exhausted and she, the one carrying a child, was wide-eyed and cheery.
He didn’t care, though.
It was completely worth it.
When they opened the backdoor, everyone was in the kitchen, and all eyes swiftly swiveled toward them. Congratulations! were shouted, and then everyone was rushing toward them, wrapping them in hugs. Miryam was in tears, whispering “Finally,” as she took her youngest son’s face in her hands and kissed his cheek.
There was food passed around and smiles shared and after about twenty minutes, Elain blinked and looked around the room. “Where is my child?”
“He refused his nap at one,” Miryam said, shrugging her shoulders. “I told him if he stayed up, he’d be sleepy when mama and daddy came over. He told me that he was a big boy and big boys don’t need naps.”
Elain sighed, rubbing her bump, “He fell asleep right before we walked in, didn’t he?”
“Literally crashed on the couch minutes after we got your text,” Cassian chuckled, his arm wrapped around Nesta’s shoulders.
After seven months, she was finally over the sick part of her pregnancy, but now she was constantly, constantly horny. Miryam had been joking about making a rule that her grown children couldn’t disappear to have sex in her house, specifically while Donovan was over, until she’d actually had to enforce it.
Az let his head fall back against the couch cushion. “Great,” he chuckled. “Getting him to go down for bed in three hours should be a piece of cake.”
The sarcasm lacing his tone had Elain chuckling, until Feyre mused, “Az, you’re acting like such a daddy.”
Elain’s laughter quieted and she looked up at him, cheeks heating. He smirked and pressed a kiss to her forehead, and she snuggled closer into him. “It happens,” he muttered.
Rhys cleared his throat. “Speaking of kids and daddies and all that, we, uh.” He looked at Feyre and took her hand. “We are officially adopting. We signed all the paperwork yesterday. Someone will be coming to inspect the house and interview us next week, but aside from that…”
Feyre said, “We didn’t want to steal your thunder, but we couldn’t keep this from y’all.”
For a moment, everyone was silent, staring, then they were all rushing at Rhysand and Feyre, giving them the same congratulatory greeting as they gave Azriel and Elain.
“That’s so exciting!” Elain cried, one hand over her heart, the other over her abdomen. “Stealing our thunder, are you kidding me? Oh, I’m so happy for you two, congrats.”
Feyre’s eyes were lined with tears as she leaned into Rhysand’s chest. “It may be a long journey...but, I can’t wait.”
“Me either,” Rhysand breathed, kissing her nose.
Cassian cleared his throat. “Okay,” he began, choked up, “before I start sobbing like a baby, let’s get some wine out and make a toast for all the good news, yeah?”
Elain and Nesta rolled their eyes, but nodded nonetheless, chuckling and doing just that.
At some point, the photo albums had been unearthed, even the ones that had come with Azriel and Rhys when they’d started their new lives with Miryam and Drakon. Cassian, having nothing but the clothes on his back, had no physical copies of his memories before they became a family.
“Nothing worth remembering happened before you found me,” he said, pressing a kiss to Miryam’s forehead as she and Elain looked through the baby book Azriel’s birth mother had put together and hidden from the world.
She smiled up at him as Elain flipped the page and froze, saying, “Okay, but you can’t convince me that’s not just a picture of Donovan.”
Getting up from where they sat on the floor, Azriel, Rhys and Feyre looked at the picture.
“Forget the blood test,” Rhys muttered. “I should have just had you bring this picture to the paternity test that day.”
Azriel snorted, but he said nothing. He was amazed, looking at the picture his wife was pointing to. He couldn’t have been older than four, couldn’t have been older than Novan was now.
He started to find himself wondering about the new baby, not for the first time, whether it would be a boy or a girl, what the baby would look like. Would this baby look just like him, too, or would the baby take after Elain? What if what she said before was to be true, and there would be twins?
If they were twins, would he get them confused?
The thought suddenly felt like a weight in the pit of his stomach.
Elain blinked, looking up at him. “You okay?”
He cleared his throat. “Yeah, no, yeah. I just...got thinking about what’s going on in there.” His hand tenderly rubbed her little bump, and she laughed, quietly.
“In a bad way?” she asked.
His smile was genuine when he said, “No, not in a bad way.”
A small creak at the top of the stairs had everyone glancing up. Elain’s smile grew as she said, “Hello, sleepyhead.”
He slowly made his way down the stairs and climbed onto the couch before climbing on top of Elain and and flopping on top of her. She grunted quietly.
Everyone tensed, but then she carefully resituated him, moving the bulk of his body off her abdomen and scratched at his back. Azriel’s eyes were worried as he extended his arms to take him, but she shook her head, nestling Donovan’s head in the crook is her neck. “Did you have a good nap?”
He nodded, but asked, “Is that me, mama?”
Elain turned her head, looking over at the photo album she’d set off to the side. She smiled and picked it up, turning it where Novan could see the picture and Az. “No, baby, that’s daddy when he was your age.”
“Oh,” he said, with a yawn.
“What do you think?” Azriel asked, quietly. “Do we look alike?”
He nodded, starting to smile the more he woke up. “Yeah, a little bit.”
Azriel chuckled. “Just a little bit?”
Novan nodded. “What about when I was a little baby? Did I look like you then?”
Azriel hesitated, but Miryam was quick to say, “Just like daddy, buddy.”
Novan’s smile widened. “I like little babies. Aunt Nesta has a little baby in her tummy.”
Nesta nodded in agreement as Elain said, “Sure does.”
“How do babies get in mommies’ tummies?” he asked, those questions continuing.
For a moment, no one said a word, but then Cassian started laughing and Nesta rolled her eyes.
“Well,” Azriel began, a thousand different approaches flew through his mind. “Mommies and daddies….they….it just….happens.”
Novan’s brows scrunched together, but Elain only shook her head, laughing quietly. “Don’t worry about it now, bud, ask us again when you’re older.”
Novan groaned and rolled his eyes. “I don’t like that answer, mama.”
“I know,” she laughed, kissing his head. “All you need to know is that soon Aunt Nesta’s little baby is going to be here, and you’re going to be able to hold it. And you know what?”
“What?” Novan asked, kicking his feet from the side of the couch.
They hadn’t planned on telling Novan that he was going to be a big brother until later, didn’t plan on telling Nesta and Cassian until they were alone, but when Elain looked up at Azriel with a question in her eye, they knew it was the right moment.
“See how big Aunt Nesta’s belly is getting?” Elain asked.
With a raised eyebrow, Nesta quietly scoffed, “Bitch.”
Miryam scolded her quietly, but her own eyes were filling with tears as she realized what was happening. Novan nodded.
With one last glance up to Az, seeing the silver lining his eyes, she said, “Soon, mommy’s tummy is going to get that big, too.”
Donovan’s big, hazel eyes lit up. “You got a baby in your tummy?”
She bit her lip to keep from crying and tucked the loose fabric of her dress around her small, defined belly.
The biggest grin spread across Novan’s mouth. His voice got significantly louder as he asked, “I’m gonna be a brother?!”
Nesta was looking between Elain and Azriel, her mouth hanging open, and Cassian’s tears had returned.
“Yeah,” Elain breathed, holding Novan’s hand in one of her own, Azriel’s in the other. “You’re gonna be a big brother, buddy.”
“When?” He asked, clapping his hands together.
“It’ll be a little bit,” she laughed, wiping a tear from her cheek.
“I can’t wait.” His grin was infectious and everyone else couldn’t stop the smiles on their own faces. Elain wrapped him up in her arms, holding him tightly to her chest. His little arms snaked around her neck. He asked, “Is it a brother or a sister?”
“We don’t know yet, buddy,” she said, pulling back to look at him. “We’ll find out next time we go to the doctor. But in the meantime, you have to be really careful around mommy’s tummy, okay?”
Nodding excitedly, he crawled off of her and asked, “Can I give the baby a kiss?”
Elain’s eyes were filling with tears as she said, “Of course.”
Donovan carefully leaned down and pressed the softer of kisses to her stomach. “Hello, I’m Novan. I’m your big brother and I’m always gonna take care of you, okay?”
The footsteps as Azriel stepped out onto the porch got everyone’s attention and Elain was about to stand up, when Nesta said, “Let me.”
Cassian and Elain glanced at each other warily, but nodded.
Nesta was careful not to let the door slam behind her as she followed Azriel. She was expecting the pacing, she was expecting some tears from him, but she wasn’t expecting the full body sobs she found when she stepped outside.
Her voice was surprisingly quiet when she asked, “You okay?”
He spun around, his cheeks red as he wiped at his face, but when he tried to speak, he only cried harder. Nesta, around her bump, took Azriel into her arms and patted his back as he cried into her shoulder.
“Sorry,” he said, through his tears, but she just whispered, “It’s okay.”
“I just…” he began, leaning back and wiping at his face. “I never thought I’d have this life, you know? I’d always dreamed…” He shook his head and took a shuddering breath. “I feel like I’m living in a dream, the life I always wanted, and I’m so fucking happy, Nesta, I’ve never been this happy...but, I’m almost not used to being happy, you know? I’m just...so overwhelmed.”
She ran a protective hand over her stomach. “I know the feeling, trust me.”
He wiped at his face again, and nodded. “I’m just…” He sighed and shook his head. “I’m waiting for someone to rip the rug out from under me. Like I’m not supposed to get this much happiness. And I’m-.”
“You can’t think that way,” she interrupted. “No matter what happens and what life throws at you now, you’ve got the most amazing wife, the sweetest son, a supportive family and a baby on the way. Whatever it is, Az, we’ll get you through it.”
He nodded and hugged her once more, awed by how far their relationship had come since he’d come back to Velaris.
“Now come on,” she said. “Donovan hasn’t realized that weddings mean cake yet.”
Azriel laughed, quietly. “That is the best part of weddings as a kid, isn’t it?”
“The only good part when you’re four,” she said, winking.
Azriel nodded, hesitating as he wiped at his damp face, yet again, not wanting Elain to know that he was crying. She had enough to worry about it, and didn’t want her having to worry about him, too.
Nesta, a spark of understanding in her eyes, pulled a tissue out of her dress pocket.
Azriel blinked.
“What?” she shrugged. “I’m pregnant, I always have tissues.”
He chuckled, thanked her, and took it to clean himself up before he followed Nesta in through the backdoor. Laughter floated in from the living room, and that feeling settled into Azriel’s chest, once again, that there was so much happiness, so much joy, and he was so grateful, so blessed, but he just couldn’t believe it. Especially as he rounded the corner and caught Elain’s bright eyes, the perfect smile plastered on her face.
She was so unbelievable stunning that it took his breath away.
Nesta said loudly, “Az, why don’t you take your son into the kitchen for some cake so I can use adult language while I talk to your wife.”
Novan’s head popped up from where he’d been trying to fly, thanks to his Uncle Rhys. “We have cake?!”
Donovan was launching himself into Az’s arms and he caught him with a grunt as his mini-me said, “I asked Meme if there was cake! There’s always cake in movies.”
He chuckled, as once again, the words out of his brilliant son’s mouth surprised him. “You’re too smart for your own good, kid.”
He just wrapped his little arms around his daddy’s neck and beamed up at him.
Nesta was right, he realized, smiling down at his son. Hard times might come, there could always be some kind of trouble on the horizon, but as long as he leaned on his family, as long as he had someone who looked at him the way Donovan did, Azriel knew that he’d be fine.
—————
“Daddy?” Novan began, yawning as Azriel tucked him into his bed.
“Hmm?” He sat down on the edge of the little twin mattress, cocking his head to the side as he looked at his son.
“I’m excited to be a brother,” he said, sleepily. “Are you excited?”
Azriel chuckled. “I’m very excited, and I’d love to talk to you more about it tomorrow, but it’s way past bedtime and you need to get some sleep.”
“I’m not tired,” he said, the lie perfectly obvious when he yawned, again.
Azriel tried not to laugh as he said, “Well, I’m tired, so you have to go to sleep so I can go to sleep. And mommy needs her sleep, because the baby in her tummy needs the most sleep.”
It was quiet for a moment before Novan gave in. “Okay, okay, fine. Goodnight, daddy.”
“Goodnight, buddy,” he said, quietly, kissing Novan’s head before he got up to turn off the light, his nightlight still glowing brightly in the corner.
He cracked the door as he left, shutting the light off in the hallway and made his way into their room. Before falling face first onto the bed, he noticed the little plate of donuts on Elain’s night stand, and when he looked up from his pillow, she was peeling her string cheese apart, bit by bit. Her eyes were on the television across the room, but when Azriel’s hand covered her bare belly, one of his old t-shirts raised to expose it, she began to smile.
“It’s a bit late for the baby to be hungry,” he smirked.
“Oh, I know,” she smiled and looked down at him. She brushed his hair back off of her head. “That’s cause mama was hungry this time.”
He snorted and leaned up and kissed her, sneakily grabbing a donut from the plate and eating it in one bite.
Elain raised an eyebrow. “Did you just steal food from a pregnant woman?”
Azriel quickly swallowed, powdered sugar still on his lips and said, “No?”
She rolled her eyes and settled into the pillows. “It’s a good thing I love you.”
Pressing a kiss to her head, he said, “I love you, too. My wife.”
The smile was back and she said, “Say it again.”
He kissed her once and said, “Wife.” Kiss. “Wife.” Kiss. “My-.” Kiss. “-beautiful-.” Kiss. “-wife.”
Her smile was breathtaking and she opened her mouth to say something when they heard vibrating.
Elain glanced to her nightstand, where her phone was lying face up, no notifications lighting the screen up. “It’s not mine.”
Quickly, Azriel was up, grabbing the dark jeans he’s discarded on the chair in the corner and fishing his phone from the pocket.
He froze and stared at the screen, silencing it and lying it face down on his nightstand.
“Who is it, baby?” Elain asked, looking at the clock on the wall. It was only nine, but that was late for either of them to get a call that wasn’t from their family.
He crossed the room shut off the light before crawling in bed and pulling her tightly against him. “Someone I used to work with in New York.”
She traced the lines of his tattoo across his chest and asked, “Should you get it?”
With a shake of his head, he said, “No, I’ve spoken to them about it once before. Any other info they can get from my voicemail.”
Elain yawned and nodded, almost immediately falling into a deep, peaceful sleep. Azriel kept one arm around her as he grabbed his phone and unlocked it.
Not only was there a missed call from her, but there was also a text message, which had come in seconds after the phone call ended.
His eyes flicked to the contact at the top of the screen and he cursed himself for not getting a new number. As much as he didn’t want to see Ianthe, he sure as hell didn’t want her anywhere near his family.
I’m in Velaris for a shoot and would love to see you. Call me and we can get together. Like old times.
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quillandink333 · 4 years
Text
Sunrise
BotW Link X Zelda
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Rating: M
Word Count: 4.5k
WARNINGS: suggestive themes, implied sex
Summary: Ten long years after her return to the land of the living, the queen of Hyrule takes her first steps out of her comfort zone with her groom’s hand in hers.
Masterlist
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“Tighter.”
I suffered through my struggle to breathe as my lady’s maid tightened my corset to its limits. This was for an occasion that would occur once and never again. If ever had there been a time when I’d needed to look my absolute best, it was now.
My eyes constantly kept returning to the clock on the wall. There was only one hour left before the ceremony was scheduled to commence. I wasn’t even at the Temple of Time, and yet I already felt close to fainting. I looked in the mirror, and I still had the waist width of an obese hynox. “Honestly, can’t you make it any tighter?” I snapped.
“Your Majesty, please try to remain calm,” pleaded one of my maids. I nodded; she was right. I was really letting my stress get the best of me. “My deepest apologies if I’m speaking out of line, but, ehm...I feel it necessary to mention something that your lover spoke to us about.”
When had Link possibly found the time to seek out my own group of personal attendants to tell them something? “Not at all. Go on.”
“Yes. He told us to put your comfort at the highest priority rather than your appearance. He said, quote, ‘Today means more to us than any other day of our lives up until now, so it’s imperative that her memory of it is not plagued by discomfort.’ He was quite insistent about it, I tell you.”
My heart fluttered. It was just like him to go out of his way like that for my sake. I swallowed my pride. “Very well.”
“Would you like me to loosen your corset then?”
“Yes, please,” I heaved. “Thank you.”
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I’d recently been blessed with the rare opportunity to be freed from my royal responsibilities for a few days. This was something that only happened for me once or perhaps twice a year. Luckier still, Link had managed to secure a week-long leave from his duties as general of the Calamity Defence Brigade in conjunction with my time off. Since it had been ages since we’d had the chance, we decided to go on a proper adventure like we’d used to in the days when our kingdom had still been in its early stages of restoration. I suggested we spend our few days of freedom in Kakariko Village to pay a long overdue visit to our old friends who lived there, and he proposed that we set out on a hiking trip as well just to make things more exciting and to get outside for a change.
However, I‘d neglected to discern that ‘hiking trip,’ in Linkish, translated to ‘long and arduous climb up a near vertical mountain range.’ It was now an hour or so past midnight, and the two of us were making our way up the side of the cliff just south of Lanayru Road. As one might expect from someone who’s spent roughly the last half decade cooped up in the castle and filling out scroll after scroll of political documents, I was remarkably out of shape. My partner, however, was just as full of energy as he’d been in those olden days, scrambling up the rocky hills with ease. Even by the time we’d reached a level where he was able to stand and walk, I was still trudging along on all fours, barely able to carry my own weight. The gracious gentleman he was, he offered to carry me on his back for a ways when he saw what a sad state I was in.
Not long after I’d recovered strength enough to walk on my own, I started to feel a chill in the air. It was already quite cold to begin with on account of the high altitude, but now my snowquill tunic was beginning to fail me. I stiffened, watching my breath come out in billowing puffs of fog. With Link just a few steps ahead, he looked over his shoulder and came to a stop, nearly causing me to walk straight into him. He smiled mysteriously.
I turned in the direction he faced and spotted the cause of the sudden drop in temperature. In the distance, but steadily drawing nearer, was none other than the spirit Naydra. My eyes probably looked like they were ready to pop out of my skull in that moment.
Before I could fully grasp the situation, he’d already begun retrieving his paraglider from his bag, which he’d propped up against one of the monumental stone pillars dotting the hillside. “Hold onto me.” He held his hand out, holding both handles of the glider in the other. The dragon of ice and snow continued her rapid approach. “Zelda, quickly!” I rushed to his side. He hooked his arm around my waist, and I clung to him tightly by his shoulders.
“Link, are you sure this—ahh!”
A biting gust of wind came our way, and then the feeling of solid earth beneath my feet vanished.
I cried out in terror as he and I were swept upward. I’d used a paraglider before—I even had one of my own—but I’d never considered the thought of sharing one with another. And yet, to my surprise, we were still alive. I summoned the courage to open my eyes, and the moment I did, I was mesmerized.
Naydra was gliding around the two of us, encapsulating us in a vortex created by her flowing, river-like body that shined in a brilliant array of colours the likes of which I’d never beheld up close before. Silently, I gazed up at Link, whose cheeks were coral-coloured from the cold and whose locks danced about his face in the breeze. He wore the serene expression of one who’d had many a chance to experience this sort of thing, but was still just as awestruck as he’d been the first time. Despite the arctic winds nipping at me constantly through my clothes, feeling his arm around my waist holding me fast to his familiar frame filled me to the brim with a tangible sense of warmth and safety.
Naydra guided us with her winds to the top of the stone pillar, and I relaxed at the feeling of the ground beneath me, which was covered in iridescent blue flowers of all different kinds. The spirit of wisdom looked at us with respect in her ancient eyes. Link’s arm stroked up and down my back passively, still wrapped around my waist. Her icy breath touched my face gently and gracefully before she turned and disappeared into the sky.
“Zelda...?”
I turned around in his hold and bumped noses with him on accident, making us both crack a smile. I hadn’t quite finished laughing when he cupped my face and touched his lips to mine. Our embrace lasted an age. A symphony of strings had burst into song deep within my heart. It almost felt like we’d left the ground again as the sound of the wind caressing the flora flew into my ears.
When we parted, he touched his forehead softly to my own. I mirrored his blissful smile, whispering an, “I love you,” and laying my palm over his hand which rested against my cheek.
“I love you,” he echoed. Behind him, the sky was awash with tears of the Goddesses. Down below, the lights of the village shined just as brilliantly. I no longer felt any hint of the cold.
Link let go of me and knelt down on one knee. He then reached into his pouch and pulled out a small box, which he opened to reveal a ring. My hand flew up to my parted lips.
“Will you be my wife?”
My eyes became damp with tears. Of course, there was only one answer.
“Yes.”
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Six tireless months of preparation had passed, and the ceremony was now underway. My whole body was more tense than the string of a bow. After an eternity of holding my breath as I waited outside in my carriage, watching the parade of participants walk one by one through the temple doors, my moment had arrived. I made my way up to the looming Doors of Time, and I peered in to see a grand sanctuary decked from one end to the other with stunning floral decor courtesy of Magda, a lovely lady Link had introduced me to with a passion for gardening and flower arrangement. At the far end on either side of the Goddess statue were our bridesmaids and groomsmen all standing in a row. At Her feet stood the priest and, in front of him, my soon-to-be husband whose jaw had dropped to the floor at the sight of me in my full regalia.
I tried my best to keep breathing normally whilst I took in the vast number of attendees filling up the main floor and the gallery through my peripheral vision. They were all trusted friends of ours, of course. However, my level of acquaintanceship with them did not change the fact that most were important figures of society who had high expectations of me, the queen of Hyrule. It was with this in mind that I held my head high, staying vehemently focused on my posture and the way I put each foot in front of the other as I walked down the carpeted aisle.
I held my bouquet in one hand and lifted the skirt of my dress with the other as I ascended the stairs leading to the altar, my train trailing gracefully behind me. I took my place beside Link and turned to face him, allowing him to remove my veil. It was subtle, but I’d without a doubt caught his lips forming the word, “Breathtaking.” I wanted to comment on how he looked equally as stunning in his regal, ivory attire accented by the various bits of gold decorating him from head to toe, but I’d save that for later.
At this time, the priest opened with the customary “Dearly Beloved” speech. I spotted the blur of court painter Pikango’s brush out of the corner of my eye. Although photographs were commonplace nowadays, I’d requested that he do a small-scale portrait of the ceremony with the reason being simply that Link and I were fond of his paintings.
Once the priest’s heartwarming introduction had reached its end, he looked to us and requested that we declare our vows to one and other. We’d worked out ahead of time that Link would go first. Yet if I could have predicted the true depth and authenticity of the words that were about to pass his lips, I would have taken the lead, for his vows would set the standard for my own far, far above what I could possibly meet.
“My dear Zelda,” he began in earnest,
“I still often find myself looking back on the days when I knew nothing but the sweet sound of your voice. In those days that I spent scouring the land for little scraps of my life from one hundred and ten years ago, the thought of seeing your face with my own eyes and hearing your voice with my own ears was what gave me comfort during sleepless nights. I may never regain most of my memories of our past relationship, but that no longer bothers me, because since then, I have made countless precious memories with you that I will cherish for the rest of my life. Like the time we spent living in our little house in Hateno Village, where every morning I would make us breakfast while you’d try and think up new ways to use me as a test subject for your research.”
This earned a collective chuckle from the audience and put a crooked smile on my face as I tried not to laugh.
“Although I said, ‘Yes,’ when you first asked if I still loved you despite everything, I didn’t realize just how many things about you that I would later discover and fall in love with one by one: your brilliant mind, your kind and affectionate heart, and the true depth of your inextinguishable passion, just to name a few. These past years that I’ve spent by your side are what have shaped me into the man standing before you now. My hope for the future, as well as my promise to you, is that we will continue to set out on new adventures and forge new memories together for the rest of our days as husband and wife.”
To say his words had hit me straight in the heart would be an arrant understatement. It was all I could do to hold myself back from prematurely tossing my bouquet over my shoulder and kissing him to death right then and there. Instead, however, I retained my composure and proceeded to recite what I had prepared.
“Link,
“As you may have noticed, we are surrounded by silent princess flowers, a once rare breed that hadn’t yet found a place to thrive amongst civilization a century ago, but has now flourished into a prospering species that can be seen from every window in this beautiful kingdom of ours. Now, since I know you’re already renowned for your role as the hero of Hyrule, I’ll talk about something a little more personal between you and me. And that something is that you’re not just a hero to Hyrule, but even more so to me. For as long as I’ve known you, you’ve never once left my side willfully and I’ve always been able to rely on you in times of need. It’s thanks solely to your undying support over the years that my dream of taking a fallen nation and rebuilding it into something greater than ever before has since blossomed into reality.”
It was around then when I looked up to see tears forming in his eyes. He nodded curtly, urging me to continue.
“I promise to be there for you whenever you’re being too hard on yourself, and to turn to you for guidance when I do the same. I promise to remind you, when you lose sight of who you are, that you are perfect in every way no matter how many doubts you may have. I promise to always make time to spend with you, and to respect your need to be alone at times. And above all, I promise to you absolute love and trust, for although today marks the start to the rest of our lives together, I know it will not be enough time to spend with you.”
Link’s face was fixed in a sentimental smile that mirrored my own. He’d managed to hold back his tears, but it was clear to see how moved he was. Glancing around the room, I realized he and I weren’t the only ones who had gotten emotional.
With that, the time came for us to exchange rings and join hands.
“Link, please place Zelda’s ring on her fourth finger.” I raised my hand out, and he held it with the utmost care while he slipped the ring onto my extended finger. “Do you, Link, take Zelda to be your lawfully wedded wife, to have and to hold, in sickness and in health, in the good times and the bad, treating her as your equal for as long as you both shall live?”
He never took his eyes off me as he gave his answer. “I do.”
“Zelda, please place Link’s ring on his fourth finger.” I did as instructed, glad to hear the priest drop the honourifics for the occasion like I’d asked. Link’s ring fit perfectly on his slim, calloused finger as I put it on for him. “Do you, Zelda, take Link to be your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold, in sickness and in health, in the good times and the bad, treating him as your equal for as long as you both shall live?”
“I do.”
“Very good.” The priest closed his tome and placed it under his arm. “With that, by the power vested in me by the Goddess Hylia, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may seal your vows with a kiss.”
Of course, we couldn’t just stay in our current positions and have a light, chaste kiss—absolutely not.
Link just had to set fire to all established formalities by sweeping me off my feet and dipping me almost to the point where I was parallel with the floor. Only then did he dive in for the kiss. Roaring applause ensued. Flower petals showered down from above. In the midst of all the excitement, I could’ve sworn I heard a stifled chuckle before someone mumbled the word, “‘Seal,’” under their breath.
During the procession following the ceremony, my subjects—soon to be our subjects—were all lined up along the route to the castle, waiting to get a glimpse of the newlywed royal couple in their specially fashioned horse-drawn carriage. Upon arriving at our destination, the butterflies in my stomach began fluttering up a storm when I noticed the throngs of people that had gathered. For years, I’d hesitated announcing our relationship to the public for fear of their disapproval. But seeing their smiling faces and hearing their joyous cheers from the balcony filled me with hope. On top of that, the proud smile worn by my husband as he waved to the crowd from beside me was infectious.
The reception was spectacular, which only made it all the more terrifying. For the whole of the afternoon, the castle grounds were open to the lucky winners of a raffle that people from all over the world had been given the opportunity to participate in. To kick it off, Link and I each gave a brief speech encouraging guests to make merry and celebrate to their hearts’ content. From then on, the great hall was alive with music coupled by the din of friendly conversation, and every so often, the names and titles of new arrivals would be announced from the main entrance.
My aversion to large social gatherings like this was no secret to Link. If not for royal traditions, we both would’ve preferred to have a nice, simple wedding in the countryside and to keep our invitations limited to a select few of our closest friends. Even so, he would not accept my perfectly appropriate inclination to simply preside over the festivities from my throne. Instead, when people were beginning to partner up in the middle of the ballroom, he dragged me down one of the soaring flights of stairs by force straight into the heart of the crowd. Everything came to an abrupt halt. My stomach sank. Link, clearly pleased as punch to be the centre of attention, bowed and offered me his hand as if to say, “May I have this dance?”
Given that all eyes were now glued to us, I was left with no choice but to digress and take his hand. The moment he drew me closer and placed his other hand on my waist, the orchestra raised their instruments and began playing, which prompted the dancers to begin dancing. The tumult of twirling and sidestepping and switching of partners that then ensued had my head spinning.
At some point when Link and I were back in each other’s arms amidst the whirlpool of dancers, we’d gravitated toward the rim of the ballroom floor where a few steps led up to an expanse of tables and chairs beyond which stood a doorway leading outside. My partner was looking around the room with intent. I glanced over my shoulder to see whatever he had seen, but I was swept off to the side as soon as my head was turned.
Half of me was filled with relief to be away from prying eyes as I followed him to Hylia knew where. The other half was filled with doubt that our absence would go unnoticed for long. And the second half was prevailing over the first. He didn’t answer any of my continuous demands to know just where he was taking me. All he did was continue along on his happy-go-lucky way. Perhaps even he didn’t know where he was going.
We hadn’t gotten far when we’d reached a small pavilion overlooking the castle gardens. He turned to face me with a worrying glint in his eye. “Wait, what are you doing?” He gripped my shoulders. “Link—”
Before I could get another word out, he backed me up into the banister and began slowly ravishing my mouth. I gave into him, my fingers weaving themselves into his modestly groomed locks out of habit. He drew away sooner than I’d anticipated, and my eyes fluttered open.
“Kissing my wife,” he finally answered, flashing that charming smile of his. My shoulders shook a little in laughter as I pulled him in for another kiss. He crooned happily, taking me by the waist. His hands roamed across the bodice of my gown, feeling every little intricacy embroidered onto its surface. “I must say,” he muttered, “I couldn’t have imagined something that‘d make you look so gorgeous.”
“Well, you really have the tailors to thank for all this,” I blushed, playing with the pleats of my elegant skirt. “I’m quite pleased with their work myself.”
“While it looks magnificent on you, darling,” he began, running a finger under where it scooped up and cupped my breasts, “I am looking forward to seeing you take it off later this evening.”
I pushed him away gently. “Stop it. Someone could hear—ah!” He grabbed my behind through my dress, without warning.
“Sorry,” he lied, snickering. “I just can’t help myself around you.” He gave me a quick kiss to the temple. I glowered at him, praying he’d get the message that this wasn’t funny to me anymore, but he paid no mind as he bent down and started hiking my skirt up my leg. My face burned as hot as the touch of his fingertips trailing up the skin of my thigh. I looked around frantically for anyone we might’ve been in plain sight of.
“Link,” I whined, “for the love of the Goddesses—”
“Hey, does anyone see the newlyweds about?” He and I both froze at Prince Sidon’s jolly and boisterous tones booming all the way from the great hall. “I figure it’s about time to roll out some old Hyrulian traditions!”
The next thing I knew, I was sat on a big throne that had been set up in the dead centre of the ballroom, and my groom was kneeling at my feet with an utterly victorious smirk on his face. Kass and the other musicians had stopped playing. All of the guests—every single one as well as some staff members—had gathered in front of us. I cursed Sidon under my breath, making Link’s grin grow wider. Everyone was cheering and whistling like they were watching the semiannual shield surfing tournament. I laughed halfheartedly, feeling humiliation sinking in.
With no hesitation, Link raised my right leg over his shoulder and ducked his head under my dress. I didn’t have time to react before I felt him nip gently at my inner thigh. I jumped, biting back a yelp. The audience hollered out in excitement. The ten seconds or so that it then took him to take my garter between his teeth and inch it along the length of my leg seemed like a century. When he emerged, he looked up at me with a sultry gaze that made my blood boil.
With the garter still in his mouth, he stood up and tossed it over his shoulder like a dog with a stick. This did me in. I erupted into uncontrollable bouts of laughter, and Link and the rest of the audience followed suit. Regrettably I was too hysterical to notice who had caught it.
The rest of the reception went on without a hitch. Immediately following Link’s grandiose display of shamelessness, I performed the long-awaited throwing of the bouquet. This time I remembered to take note of the catcher; it was none other than Impa’s granddaughter, Paya, whose complexion had taken on a shade similar to that of her Sheikah facial markings. After that, there were one or two more traditions that needed to be taken care of, such as the cutting of the cake. Link and I had to be given a ladder to stand on in order for us to be able to reach the top tier. Even so, the amount of effort needed was befitting of the delectable prize waiting for me at the end. My lovely husband even offered to feed me the fruits and berries off of his slice, and who would I have been to decline his generosity?
A short while later, I was out on the dance floor again. Compared to before, I was feeling a great deal more relaxed as I mingled with the the many, many partygoers.
Then I heard the thunderous crack of an explosion.
I looked out through the great hall’s lofty windows and witnessed the shimmering hues of fireworks painting the night sky. My plans for them had completely slipped my mind. By the time they’d begun, many people had already made their way outside. I scanned the room for Link and, upon spotting him, asked my current dance partner to excuse me and made my way over to him. Then he followed me to the balcony where we’d enjoy the show for as long as it would last, until the clock struck midnight and the celebration was drawn to a close.
The night had already progressed into the small hours of morning when my husband and I had made it back to our shared quarters. Our lavish ensembles were folded neatly away inside a box in our wardrobe, probably never to be worn again. I’d never revelled so much in the sensation of lying down on my bed and feeling all the tension in my body melt away. What a day it had been.
“I love you.” Link’s voice was low and warm as his fingertips combed delicately through the roots of my hair.
“I love you too,” I smiled, idly tracing each of the scars littering his chest one by one. “Be honest. How long did it take you to write those vows?”
He donned a prideful grin, saying, “Made them up on the spot.”
“I said, ‘Be honest,’” I giggled, giving him a light shove.
“I am! It’s the truth!” And yet his ear-to-ear grin did little to back up his claim.
“Really?” I gave him an incredulous look, which he challenged with a raise of his brow. “Well, I, for one, wrote out draft after draft and spent hours of my precious time memorizing and rehearsing them.”
“I figured as much,” he chided into my neck. A chill raced through my blanketed body followed by another bubbly laugh.
I rolled my eyes. “If you are telling the truth and you really did improvise that whole thing, then...I admit, I’m impressed.”
“Am I not brilliant?”
“Oh, yes,” I smiled, craning my neck to kiss his jawline. Then with a slight yawn as I laid my head back down on his shoulder, “Absolutely.”
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simplyshelbs16xoxo · 3 years
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‘This Love Came Back to Me’ Chapter 8: I Still Burn For You
Ao3 | Buy Me a Coffee?
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               Molly had gone ahead of him to set her mind to rights, walking toward the beach and sitting herself down at the edge where the ocean met the shore. She slipped off her flats and buried her toes in the sand, appreciating the cool feel of the water on her skin. It didn’t take long for Sherlock to catch up, sitting himself down beside her. She could feel his eyes on her as she looked out over the ocean. Silently, she searched for and found his hand, lacing her fingers through his. “I’m really afraid right now,” she confessed, feeling the two long years of heartache between them, “but I’m more afraid of losing you. I was always afraid of it.”
               Blowing out a breath he had been holding, Sherlock raked his free hand through his windswept curls. “Then why did you leave? Why didn’t you just talk to me? All I’ve done is constantly comb over every single detail of our time together, and I could never figure out what I did wrong. I tried so hard to forget you. Of course, I could never do such a thing.” Though a voice that sounded like his brother protested against it, Sherlock gave up control of his emotions and just let them be. This would be the most important conversation he’d ever take part in and he needed to feel it all.
               She turned to look at him, inching closer. “You did nothing wrong, Sherlock. I had never been so happy, but I was equally afraid. I had doubts. I spent most of those six months waiting for the other shoe to drop. I never wanted us to end, and stupidly, I was the one to fulfill that fear.” Molly bit her lip, unsure if she should go any further. She would have left it at that, but he continued to question her.
               “What I don’t understand is you felt that way for so long, but it hadn’t been enough to make you leave. What was the catalyst? Was it the wedding?” Sherlock asked. “I know everyone else around us doubted the authenticity of my heart, but I never thought you would. Did someone convince you otherwise?”
               And there it was. Molly tried to keep the elder Holmes out of this, but she wouldn’t lie to Sherlock. He deserved the truth no matter how horrible. “Just before the wedding, your brother requested to see me.” She watched as the sickening realisation hit him, his expression stone cold. “Keep in mind, I was already in the mindset that you only believed you loved me, not that you actually did. He felt it was best if I broke it off to save myself the pain from finding you waking up one day to realise you actually weren’t in love with me at all. I thought leaving would be better than to see you come to that conclusion.”
               Sherlock laughed in disbelief. “Unbelievable…I can’t believe he’d stoop so low. And that you believed him! Did you not trust me, Molly? Nobody knows me better than you, so how come you were so blind to how I felt?” He allowed himself this moment of raw, aching pain.
               A storm was forming in his eyes like a darkened, tumultuous sea. A sharp intake of breath sounded from her when he pulled his hand away from her grasp. “Sherlock…” she cradled his face in her hands. “You’ve been lonely too long, my love. For that, I am so sorry.” His eyes bore into hers, a mixture of love, pain, and fear. Despite that, he didn’t pull away—not when she leaned in and not when her lips finally pressed against his. She tasted of whisky and salt from the tears she cried and he tasted just the same. Long and lingering as the kiss was, it somehow felt quick, over too soon. “I love you, Sherlock. I never stopped. I want to set things right. I just hope you can love me again.”
               He wasn’t ready to say the words back even though he wanted to. Instead, he felt it right to make his own apologies. “I’m sorry for how I treated you in London. Not my best moment.” The breath he let out shook like the leaves of a tree on a blustery day. “I need some time, Molly. Not much—just a bit.”
               She nodded in understanding. “Does this mean you’re leaving early?”
               “No,” he replied, offering a reassuring smile. “I’ll still be here if you need me.”
               Molly’s heart ached. She lay down in the sand without a care of it getting into places it shouldn’t be. “I really don’t deserve you.”
               He lay back beside her, turning his head toward her. “Don’t say things like that.” Arms open to her in invitation, Sherlock held her close, enjoying the feel of her head on his chest and her body pressed against his. She always fit so well with him like a perfectly placed piece of a puzzle. “You made a mistake, and that makes you human.” He stroked her hair with a gentle touch. “Even I’m human from time to time,” he chuckled.
                Molly only closed her eyes for a moment, but soon dozed off to the soothing music of the waves. The emotional toll of the night had caught up in a flash. That, mixed with the comfort of Sherlock’s presence, had made it easy to drift away like a boat on a vast sea. He remained awake, deciding to dive into his mind palace and let her sleep in his arms for a little while.
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               She refused to open her eyes, shielding them from the sunlight. Molly reached out blindly, still half-asleep, searching for Sherlock. To her dismay, he wasn’t there, and her eyes fluttered open to find herself in her bedroom. She furrowed her brows, unsure of how she had gotten there. The last thing she could remember was being held by him, lying out on the beach together after a particularly grueling conversation. He must have carried her all the way back to her flat, as she was sure she hadn’t woken up to walk back herself.
               Molly burrowed deeper beneath her duvet, not quite ready to get out of bed. She couldn’t tell if their conversation last night had made things better or worse for him. Everything had been such a mess for so long, and it damn near killed her to know just how badly she had hurt him. A knock sounded at her door and she groaned, throwing back the covers and slipping out of bed. She shuffled into the sitting room and unlocked the door.
               “Rise and shine, sleepyhead,” Mary smiled, offering her a fresh cup of coffee, which Molly gratefully accepted.
               “Thank you, Mary. Come on in,” Molly told her. She took a sip of her drink before shutting the door. “Sorry I left early last night.”
               Mary waved her hand away. “Oh, don’t worry about it. I noticed you left with Sherlock…did you two work things out?”
               Her face fell as she ran her fingers through her hair. “Yes and no,” she answered sullenly. Molly worried her bottom lip in an effort to keep it from trembling. “I told him everything. He was distraught, of course, I expected nothing less. I hurt him so much, Mary. I don’t know if we’ll ever truly be okay again. He knows I loved him and that I still do, but he said he needs some space, which I understand completely. And then,” she continued, her voice breaking, “I fell asleep in his arms at the beach. He held me for who knows how long until he carried me back here.”
               Setting aside her coffee, Mary went to sit beside her on the sofa, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. “It’ll be alright, lovey.” She smoothed back Molly’s hair as she cried. “He’ll come ‘round. It might be a while before he stops being angry about it, but it’ll fade. Did you ever read the letter I gave you?”
               Molly swiped at her nose roughly, nodding her head. “Yeah…it was a lot to take in. An assassin? Really?”
               “Afraid so,” Mary smiled. “I only bring it up because I had betrayed John by keeping that in the past. Eventually, we got through it. He never knew, and then I shot Sherlock, though not to kill him, just incapacitate—so sorry about that, Molly, I can’t believe you don’t hate me for it.”
               Taking a deep breath, Molly turned to her friend. “I get why you did it, and yes, I was fuming when I read it. I waited until I was on the plane back here to do so. Two weeks passed, the anger faded, understanding set in, and then you and John showed up with Sherlock, and I didn’t care to be upset any longer.”
               Mary nodded. “Exactly. What I’m trying to say is you two will be fine. The truth is known and everyone can heal now. When Sherlock is ready, I’m sure he won’t hesitate to let you know.”
               A chuckle escaped her. Molly knew she was right. Her heart felt lighter having gotten it all out of her system. It may not be any time soon, but they would be okay. She knew that she’d wait the rest of her life if she had to, if only to see him smile.
.
.
                Sherlock wandered through the winding cobbled streets, his mind filled with thoughts of her. Music could be heard all around, whether it be drifting out from the open pubs or from the talented street musicians. He couldn’t help but notice that Galway was a very warm city. No wonder she had chosen to come here. Last night had been eye-opening, learning of his brother’s involvement, and that Molly didn’t believe his love to be true. The latter is what hurt him the most. He wondered if he should’ve tried harder to convince her, worried that he may have been at fault as well.
                 Two years were gone just like that—wasted away, and never coming back. He was angry to have lost so much time with her, equally blaming himself for the mess. Maybe if he had just tried to contact her, found out where she had gone, they wouldn’t have had to wait so long. His heart ached and he involuntarily grasped his chest where it hurt. Sherlock couldn’t take the pain, finding a bench to sit down at, having not noticed the kind-faced old woman that sat on the other end.
               “Tha’s a broken heart if ever I saw one,” she remarked with empathy.
               Sherlock turned his head toward her, a sadness in his eyes. “Am I that obvious?” He wasn’t sure what it was about the woman, but she reminded him of his mother in some ways, and it made him want to open up to her. And he did, scooting closer so she could hear him better over the music. When he finished, he added, “I don’t know where to go from here. Everything is so jumbled.”
               She offered him a reassuring smile. “Write her a letter, lay your love within the safety of ink and paper. It will help you sort things out, as well as make a lovely keepsake for Do Ghrá.”
               “Thank you,” he said softly, standing up from the bench, “for letting me take up some of your time.” She had been much more helpful than John had been earlier having brought up Mary’s betrayal as an example, but it wasn’t the same thing. That particular situation was much worse than his own.
               The woman waved a hand away. “Think nothing of it. I am glad to help. Ádh mór ort.”      
               Sherlock nodded in acknowledgment of her sentiments, feeling the heaviness of his heart begin to lift as he walked away. He received a text from John, letting him know to meet him at The Skeff in Eyre Square. Mary and Molly were on their way there as well. He smiled at the thought of seeing her, wondering if she’d like to split a platter of fish and chips with him. It was something they had done often at his favourite shop on Marylebone Road.
               He arrived just after the girls did, offering Molly a smile as he sat across from her in the booth. Sherlock mentioned his offer of splitting a large fish and chips platter, and she nodded happily in response, warmth emanating from her, enveloping him. “Did you sleep well?”
               “For the most part,” she replied quietly. “Thank you for carrying me to bed. You could’ve just woken me.”
               He shook his head. “You looked so peaceful—I didn’t want to disturb your slumber.” The memory of gently setting her in bed and tucking her in snugly resurfaced. She had only woken for a moment when he had pressed a kiss to her forehead, but Molly didn’t appear to have remembered it. That was okay, though. It was something he could have for himself.
               John and Mary tried their best to not stop their own conversation in order to overhear the words their friends were exchanging. From the looks of it, they were much more at ease around each other, though still a bit hesitant. By the time the food arrived, all four of them were reminiscing over past cases, first meetings, and many other good times shared together. Mary found it adorable that Sherlock and Molly were sharing a platter. They reached for the same chip, both playfully tugging at it, laughing, until he let go of it, allowing her to have it.
               So much for needing space, Mary thought with a smirk. He needed Molly just as much as she needed him. It was nice seeing them happy again. And perhaps, before the weekend was over, they’d be on their way back to one another. In fact, from the way their faces were lit up, she was sure they already were.
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kgyeomiex · 4 years
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Rush
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“Real love is always chaotic. You lose control; you lose perspective. You lose the ability to protect yourself. The greater the love, the greater the chaos. It’s a given and that’s the secret.”
Imagine meeting someone that impacts your life in a way you wouldn’t be able to imagine. Luna always struggled trying to get where wanted in life by working ten times harder than most people at her campus... But she does meet someone who is used to having it easy… What will happen when Luna and the person she meets both start getting to know each other.. Will things work out for the both of them?
Shining~
More Chapters:
Here We Go Again | The Fool
Masterlist
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Meeting someone who was a big pain in the ass wasn’t part of the plan. All I wanted was to focus on my study and just travel to countries that have been on my bucket list for years now. However, he made my plans completely change. He included himself in my later on plans… He made me want to fight for something else besides my damn future… I don’t whether meeting him was a blessing or a curse.
Something about meeting that one person is a clear message, however, I’m still trying to figure out what that message could be…
Was it destiny or a lesson?
~
“We’re here!” My best friend Claire shouts as she pulls into the college campus and I stared at the window and smiled. This was my junior year of college… Just this year and next year and I’m hopefully off working for a huge company out in New York getting my life settled...
“Can you believe it… We’re almost out of here.” I said as I sat there and stared out from the window getting a view of the campus and watching students coming out of cars with their suitcases by their side.
“Tell me about it, I feel old.” Claire starts complaining like a complete granny and I rolled my eyes.
“Girl the day just started and you’re already complaining?” I asked Claire rolling my eyes and I could hear her laugh right next to me and I smiled.
I know school hasn’t started yet but the more I keep looking at the campus the more I realized I should try to get my shit together before my last year of college... I mean, to be honest, it’s sad to say that I don’t have any college stories to share when I’m older, but I want to achieve my goal… This year it’s all about focusing.
“Oh my god! I heard they are throwing a party already at the campus later on! You joining me, right?” Claire asks as she moves her shoulder from side to side hoping to convince me, but she should know the answer.
“Claire you kn-” before I could finish my sentence my phone suddenly began to ring.
“Hold that thought.”
I pulled out my phone and was quick to answer it.
“Hello?”
“Is this Luna?” Wow, I didn’t even get a hello back, instead, I got a question. Who is this calling anyway?
“Yes, who’s calling?”
“Well, I see that you applied to be a bartender at the bar Poison. We looked at your resume and… Well, we are interested in having you work for us.”
My eyes widen. I didn’t expect to get the job, I mean I worked as a bartender once but quit because I worked with irresponsible people. Everyone acted younger than their actual age and I felt like I worked harder than others.
“Of course!” I blurted out without thinking twice and I could feel Claire staring right at me. She’s probably judging me, but I don’t care, I just got a job at the beginning of my Junior year.
“Good! Can you start today at 6?” I was about to start finding excuses, but I realized I had nothing to do besides unpacking my belongings, plus it would give you an excuse not to attend back to a school college party.
“Sounds perfect, see you then.” From that point on we both hanged up and I looked at Claire and smiled.
“Well looks like I can’t join you at tonight’s party.”
“Why not?”
“I have work.” I winked at Claire and I could see that she didn’t look too fond of my decision, but she couldn’t say anything. But to be honest I rather work than go to a party and do nothing there. Yes, I know I’m still going to be in a party environment but I’m going to be making money not going to look like a fool and feel like a complete outcast.
“Luna!”
“What?! It’s either money or the party, what would you choose if you were me?” I was quick to change the question on her and the only thing she could do at this point is just sigh.
That’s what I thought.
“I hate you,” Claire mumbles and I quickly wrapped my arm around her shoulder and pulled her into a hug.
“You love me.”
~
The moment we finally settled everything in our dorm room I was quick to rush through my closet and look for something cute to wear. The first thing I learned about being a bartender is to be social and to always look your best. In order to get customers those are the major secrets, you needed to succeed.
“Aish what should I wear?” I mumbled talking to myself and I glanced at Claire and could see her looking for an outfit for tonight’s party as well. Eventually, I finally found a decent outfit for the night
Outfit: http://weheartit.com/entry/194640948/in-set/11990615-fashion?context_user=Omfgbrandyy&page=21
(Besides the hat)
“What do you think?” I asked Claire spinning around and she looked at me from head to toe and had a poker face. She was making it very difficult to read her facial expression.
“You don’t like it...” I murmured looking down. I heard laughter escape Claire's lips and I quickly looked up and saw her there smiling.
“Of course, I love the outfit dummy, just felt like bursting your bubble.” I rolled my eyes and walked back to my suitcase. It’s hard trying to make sure you look good but don’t look like a complete fool.
“Ah, I’m still upset you can’t show up to the party! I heard there is going to be cute boys there.” Claire knew cute boys were my weakness, but not for tonight’s party.
“Nice try.” I winked at Claire before I got up and walked off to apply some makeup for tonight’s job.
~
Jimin’s Point of View
“I have no idea why I’m even here.” I said as I dropped my suitcase there on the ground and Yoongi stares at me and shakes his head in disapproval.”
“Listen, maybe if you would have stayed out of trouble back at home, we wouldn’t be here in the first place.” I took one glance at Yoongi and there I see him smiling after making such a harsh comment.
Aish I don’t understand why I constantly have to make an image that everyone wants just because my father owns this huge CEO company. My father and I are two different people. People should mind their damn business and let me live.
“Fuck off, I didn’t ask to be the son of a CEO.”
“You’re annoying.” I could hear Yoongi mumbling and I rolled my eyes. I opened up my suitcase and just sat beside it sighing. While I’m here I didn’t want anyone knowing who I was. Since I’m here at college I might as well try to live a normal student life and just party it out.
“Anyways have you seen this?” I asked Yoongi grabbing a hold of a flyer I randomly snatched from the hall and Yoongi just stared at the poster and then back at me.
“What about it?”
Tonight, was a welcome back party down at the campus, and I know I got put into college to get my act together, but right now all I wanted to do was have fun. I didn’t care what anyone else had to say, I was going to do what I wanted to do regardless anyone had to say.
“Let’s go.”
“To the party? Uh… Is there a pass option on this?” Yoongi asks as he was thrown on his bed and I just stared at him and threw a pillow in his direction.
“Can you not be lazy for a second and work with me here?” Yoongi sat up and just stared at me annoyed. I invited Yoongi to come down to Northeastern with me just so I wouldn’t go through this journey completely alone. However, Yoongi seems to want to kill my fun plans.
“Fine!”
I smiled in satisfaction and knew I had to get ready for the big party, had to dress to impress. I mean I’m here to have fun, right?
~
Luna’s Point of View
The moment I walked into the bar; I was expecting to have such an awkward welcoming where I would have to introduce myself about 6,000 times just to look for the manager… However, the complete opposite happened. The moment I stepped into the bar, a tall bald man walked up to me and knew right away who I was. Probably because I was here before the customers arrived, but in no time, he introduced me to all the workers around and I was now behind the counter getting ready to get my job done.
Although I’m here to work and get my job done, I was still excited to have a chance to meet new people and who knows maybe make connections.
“Luna?” I heard my name being called so I quickly looked to my left and there I see a handsome guy standing right before me.
“Oh, that’s me…” I raised my hand and the young man walked over to me and he smiles brightly. I have no idea who this guy is, and I have no idea how he even knows my name. But I’ll be nice.
“Hi! I’m Jackson, I’m also a bartender at this bar.” Jackson pulls me into a hug, and I hugged him back still confused but I just went along with the whole thing.
“You must know this place pretty well then.”
“Of course, I’ll be the one to update you on the 411 and all the hot gossips,” Jackson says before giving a quick wink and walking off.
I couldn’t help but laugh. To be honest I found it a bit weird to have a stranger come up to me and hug me but as soon as Jackson spoke, I realized I was going to get along with him perfectly fine. On top of that, he’s extremely good looking… So, I don’t have a problem.
~
Jimin’s Point of View
Although every time I would glance a Yoongi and see him look completely miserable, I tried my best to cheer him up. I grabbed both of us two red cups with alcohol in it and hoped that would fix it.
I looked around the room and there were tons of beautiful girls all around me. The music was pounding, and the house was completely crowded. To be honest, this was my first ever going to a college party, but it’s actually how I expected it to be.
“See anyone you’re interested in yet?” Yoongi asks as he shouts over the loud music and I looked around and looked at him.
“I do,” I pointed to a girl leaning against the wall talking to a group of her friends in a red dress. Wow... I have no intentions of dating while I'm here. I’m not planning to date at all until the time is right. Right now, all I want to do is have fun.
“I’ll be back.” I winked at Yoongi before I was off trying to capture the girl's attention in the first place.
~
Luna’s Point of View
After meeting Jackson, work felt less boring. Jackson was by my side cracking jokes here and there and making me laugh nonstop. Today was a pretty busy day, especially because it’s Friday, but they're very interesting people here tonight.
“I’m surprised you agreed to work, instead of attending tonight's mini party,” Jackson comments as he opens a bottled beer and I looked at him. How did he know about the college welcome back party? Does that mean Jackson goes to your college as well?
“So, I’m assuming you're a student at Northeastern?” I asked leaning against the counter and Jackson laughs.
“I do. And this morning I’m pretty sure I seen you come out of a car with a girl by your side with a couple of suitcases in front of the campus.” Wow, this boy recognized me from earlier. Pretty good memory if you ask me.
“How did you know it was me? What if it was my twin sister?” I quickly flipped the question and Jackson's eyes widen and then smiled.
“That’s a nice try, but I’m sure you and your twin wouldn’t have the same earrings on purpose.” I instantly froze and Jackson laughs. Wow, a guy who pays attention to detail? He was a rare species.
“You know Jackson... I have a feeling we’re getting get along perfectly fine.”
“You know it.” Jackson sends me a wink and then was off handing customers their orders. You know what although today might have been my first day of college and I'm working… I was having a good time.
You know what, maybe this year was going to be better than expected.
~
Jimin’s Point of View
Did she just reject me? The moment I walked up to her, I made sure I said everything that she wanted to hear. I called her beautiful, I told her that she was the only one I had my eyes on and that I would treat her like the queen she is… But I got rejected.
I looked around and at this moment on I feel like maybe coming to this party was a mistake. I looked to my left and there I see Yoongi already speaking to a girl smiling a damn fool.
I walked over to Yoongi and he looks right at me and remains quiet.
“I think it’s time to go,” I said nudging Yoongi's side and he quickly gets up and looks at the girl he’s talking to.
“Can you excuse me for a minute?” The girl gets up and walks off and I was now left alone with Yoongi.
“What’s up?” Yoongi asks looking right at me and all I could do was just look at him.
“This party is lame, Let’s go.” Yoongi automatically smiles and to be honest I have no idea why. I mean I didn’t make any jokes or anything...
Did you miss something here?
“Yoongi.”
“Look, I know you haven’t been getting game like that… But I’m having a good time.” Yoongi just shrugs and from that point on he takes a sip of a red cup and smirks.
“Whatever I'm leaving.” From that point on I walked off and just left the lame party. I mean something I should have done a long time ago.
~
Luna’s Point of View
My shift has come to an end and I took a look at the time and realized it was early. Well not too early but enough to maybe unpack a bit till I knock out eventually. It was 11 pm and I knew right away that my roommate probably is still partying. I mean, to be honest, I wouldn’t be surprised.
One by one I walked across the campus and walked my way to my dorm room, but I’m not going to lie I was a bit paranoid. It was still late, and I know at this time the people that would be walking around would-be people who are intoxicated with alcohol.
When humans are intoxicated and have alcohol in their systems, they would do crazy things and not remember a thing the next day.
One by one I was silently walking back to my dorm till suddenly all I hear is mumbling.
“Fuck.”
Should I turn around or keep walking? Mmmm maybe I should just walk off, I’m not trying to die today. I continued to walk and again I heard cursing.
“You gotta be fucking kidding me!”
At this point on I picked up my feet and tried to walk faster and faster till without realizing it I dropped my keys. I stopped walking and picked up my keys till
“Excuse me,”
Thinking I was going to get attacked, I screamed until I opened my eyes and there, I see a male figure right in front of me.
“You dropped this.”
“Ah, thanks.” I awkwardly blurted out as I received my keys and he just stare right at me.
“Did I scare you or something?” Wait was this guy behind me making the noise? Well, should I confess and say he did scare me? Ah Nah.
“Of course, not…”
The moment I said that the stranger suddenly blurts out laughing and I just silently stared at him feeling dumbfounded.
What was funny?
“Well, if you weren’t scared…. That’s a pretty weird way of saying hello to a stranger.” He says referring to my scream and I rolled my eyes.
“Okay I might have been scared, but can you blame me? Look at the time and look at me. I’m a female, anything could happen.” The stranger just simply smiles and silently nods his head.
“Well…. I mean the good thing is you don’t have to worry about having anyone interested in you, you don’t have much to offer.” That same stranger looked at me from head to toe and I felt completely offended.
“Excuse me?” I asked making sure I was hearing correctly, and all the stranger does is chuckle. This boy has some nerves…
“It’s okay, you’ll eventually accept the truth.”
I wanted to scream at him but what was the point? This boy seems like a complete asshole, a guy who seems like he was so full of himself and doesn’t care about others. That’s how he rubbed off as.
“You know what, I don’t understand why I’m wasting my time talking to you,” I said rolling my eyes and from that point on I walked off leaving that complete asshole of a stranger standing there alone.
“Wait!”
I didn’t bother stopping, instead, I kept walking until someone grabbed my hand. I stopped and see the same stranger right there before me.
“Aren’t you going to ask me what my name is?” Is this boy delusional? Does he think he can attract girls this way by being rude and they will just throw themselves at him because that’s the case he’s gladly mistaking.
“No, why would I?” I asked looking at the stranger and he smiles.
“Because I know you would like to know who’s this handsome hunk.” I couldn’t help but bust out laughing and I tapped his shoulder, and I shook my head.
“Never in a million years would I have thought that.” I tried to walk off again but he ran up to me and stood right in front of me not giving me a chance to run off.
“I know you want me, stop playing games, and let’s back to my dorm.” He says getting closer to me and I quickly stretched out my arms and stopped him from moving any closer.
“Listen, screw boy, I don’t want to know your name, I don’t want to go back to your dorm and most importantly I’m wasting my breath even speaking to you… So, do you mind?”
I walked past him and as I tried to walk past my dorm there, I hear the stranger say.
“My name is Park Jimin!”
I rolled my eyes and continued with my life.
~
To be Continued 
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