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aminiatureworld · 4 years ago

Text

Disappearance

Characters: Diluc, Razor, Xiao, gn!reader

Word Count: 4,133

Warnings: Slightly claustrophobic

Premise: The line between small upsets and huge quarrels can be a blurred one, and it’s often difficult to cope with in the aftermath.

In which there is an argument and the reader disappears.

Author’s Note: Thank you for your request anon. I really cannot stay away from angst, and this was right up my alley. Poor characters, how I love to torture you.

I wasn’t sure if I was going to write Razor, he isn’t in my list of characters I’m comfortable with. For one thing I find his broken speech quite difficult to deal with. I can’t tell if I find it irritating or not, or if it’s an example of good characterization or the “savage” stereotype a la Tarzan – sorry Tarzan I don’t like you. But I tried to make the effort and I hope it came out well! Though I still don’t feel quite comfortable with writing him. I hope I handled the dialogue well enough. He makes me think of San from Princess Mononoke.

Diluc

Diluc accelerated his pace as the Winery came into sight, his normally serene face breaking into a small smile.

It was the best time of day, the time when he came home, the time when he could finally see you. The two of you had been a couple for about five months, and though it wasn’t the longest of time, it was certainly the happiest Diluc had been, happier even than when he was a child with a family to call his own. You were his family now after all, something that you reminded him when he was in his darkest moods. You were his family now, and nothing could tear that apart.

“Welcome home.” Your voice was warm with happiness, and you threw your arms around Diluc the moment he came through the door. Diluc reciprocated the embrace and for a moment the two of you simply stood in the landing, the picture of perfect happiness.

“I’ve missed you, beloved.” Diluc whispered.

“I missed you too.” You replied, smiling softly. Your smile slipped however, and was instead replaced with an expression of worry. “You were gone so late tonight, I was unsure if something had happened to you. Really, I was about to go after you.”

“Well I’m glad you didn’t.” Diluc replied, tone firm though not unkind. “We’ve talked about this before my love, if something were to happen to me, which it won’t,” he quickly added, seeing your gaze cloud over, “but if it did I wouldn’t want you to put yourself in danger. I fight for you as much as anyone else in Monstadt, and for you to be injured or worse on my part, I’d never be able to forgive myself.”

“I know we discussed it and came to that conclusion.” Your words were slow, deliberate in tone. “But though I agreed to it then, I found tonight that I regretted it more than anything I might ever do. I cannot bear the idea of you somewhere near, hurt and crying out for help or worse…” you swallowed, unwilling to conjure the image to mind, “…I couldn’t bear thinking that you might be in a bad way and with no chance of rescue simply because I made a foolish promise. And while I was thinking about this all I came to the realization that I could never truly keep that promise. If you’re ever in need I will be there for you, no matter what. No matter what you said, what you think, it is the simple truth.”

“Please don’t do that.” Diluc replied, voice quickly becoming filled with emotion. “If there’s something out there that could hurt me like that, then how –” he paused, realizing his mistake, but you’d already caught it.

“How could I possibly defeat it?” You replied, a grimace replacing your smile. “You cannot treat me like glass Diluc. I’m an adventurer, a warrior in my own right. And I won’t be kept from saving the one I love the most, not when the only thing keeping me from it is his pride and a few words.”

The two of you said nothing more of it that night, but the argument hung in the air the next morning, continuing the awkwardness up until you left for your adventuring duties. Diluc did nothing to breach the gap. He was in the right after all. And besides, it was such a stupid little argument, barely one at that. In a day or two it’d be nothing, and then all would be well again.

This conclusion was sorely tested when you didn’t return to the Winery in the evening. As Diluc prepared himself for another night of patrol he began to worry slightly. Surely you weren’t avoiding him. About something so small? No, most likely you were simply late. You’d be there when he got home. If he was sure of anything he was sure of that.

Unfortunately Diluc was proven quite wrong. The doorway was empty at his arrival, you were nowhere to be found. A sinking feeling began to settle into his stomach, and Diluc found himself quite unable to sleep that night, instead tossing and turning this way and that, wondering if you were truly so angry over something that he’d seen as so small. It was the only logical explanation for your disappearance after all, though Diluc wasn’t sure what to do about it. Chasing after you seemed somewhat uncouth, and besides didn’t that always make things worse? No, he’d give you space, all the space you needed. If a week passed then he’d seek you out, but before then he’d let you be. No point in jeopardizing the relationship anymore than apparently he already had.

His promise to stay away for a week was nearly torn to shreds by the end of the next day. Were you truly so angry with him? How could he have hurt you so much? Diluc didn’t know what to do. During the day he tried to behave as always, keeping tabs on everything he could and busying himself as much as possible. At night, however, the feeling became more and more unbearable, and Diluc found sleep more fleeting than ever.

He kept replaying the argument, over and over again did he try to remember exactly what had happened. Was your tone of voice angrier than he thought? Was your expression darker? Had he been too curt, too dismissive, too demanding? What could’ve possibly caused you to simply disappear? It was unlike you; usually what arguments took place resulted in you trailing him more than anything else. Why was this so different? Turning onto his side once more Diluc closed his eyes. Tomorrow all would be well. Tomorrow you’d come back for sure.

You didn’t come back tomorrow, nor the day after that. Those days were some of the most anxious Diluc had felt since the immediate passing of his father. Work became unbearable, for words that one stood clearly on the page now swam before him, a sea of incomprehensible figures and symbols. Eating and sleeping too were utterly alien to him, and what those two days were mostly comprised of turned out to be him walking about in a stupor, too dazed and too worried to think about anything around him, anything other than you.

On the fourth day a knock came to his door, and with it came Katheryne of the Adventurer’s Guild. Her face was ashen, and she was fiddling with her hands. As Diluc gestured for her to sit down the anxiety that had been sitting in his stomach tangled itself into knots. What in the name of the Seven had happened?

“Master Diluc, we have some information, information involving your partner.”

“Yes?” Diluc’s voice was sharp and low, for he couldn’t bring himself to hide it. Collapsing into the opposite chair he tried to prepare himself for the worst, knowing that if you had left or, Seven forbid, been killed he’d never be able to move on.

“Well you see your partner, they went on an expedition, a commission rather. They were looking for bits of Noctilious Jade and Cor Lapis. Although these minerals are normally found in Liyue only there are a few reservoirs in Monstadt along the border of the two lands, specifically they can be found in certain caves behind the waterfalls that flood into the river. A merchant bought the rights to the land of one of those caves and, being a merchant, he couldn’t get it out himself, so we sent one of our own to mine it out for him, see if it was any good.”

“This is all quite fascinating,” Diluc replied, tone made sharp with worry, “but I can hardly see what this has to do with anything.”

“Your partner was the one selected. They went down to mine it but the entrance was the opening to a sharp drop and they fell down. We only managed to recover them this morning.”

The shock that ran through Diluc was something that he never wished to experience again. It seemed to pierce right through him, into the center of his heart. You’d been trapped. You’d been in need of help, stuck for days in the worst of possible situations, and he’d done nothing but loaf around the Winery. How could he forgive himself for something like that?

“May I see them.” He choked out, his throat constricted and burning.

“They are coming here right now. Thankfully injuries were minimal. Caves connected to water are the most dangerous kind, you can die and it can be impossible to retrieve your corpse. They were incredibly lucky.” And with that gruesome thought in mind Katheryne walked over to the door, opening it to reveal you.

Diluc had never moved so fast in his life. Instantly you were wrapped in his embrace. You returned the gesture just as fiercely, clinging on as if he was the only thing anchoring you, keeping you from collapsing from relief, from fatigue, from the terror that had yet to dissipate.

“Oh my love, oh I’m so sorry, so deeply sorry. Forgive me, forgive me for not being there. Forgive me.” Diluc whispered, practically incoherent. You were both shaking, and when you two collapsed in the chair closest to the fire there were no words for a good many moments. The terror you’d both felt was hardly over, and you both needed to be sure that this wasn’t a dream, that it was all over, and that you were going to be fine now.

“Diluc.” You finally whispered.

“Yes my love.” Diluc replied, a tremor still in his voice. You leaned into him, head perched on his shoulder, breath tickling his neck.

“I never want to quarrel again.”

Diluc reached over to cup your face. Raising your head slightly he leaned over, brushing his lips against yours, indulging in something he thought for a moment he might never be able to do again.

“Neither do I.” He replied, voice just as soft. “And remind me never to try to restrict you again, for if I’d not been such a fool I would’ve run to your side the very evening you were trapped.”

You smiled softly, expression conveying relief and tenderness and most of all love. Leaning in for another kiss you whispered something right before your mouth collided with his.

“I will follow you wherever you go.”

Razor

Sitting at the edge of one of Wolvedom’s many cliffs, eyes trailed towards the far away walls of Monstadt, Razor wondered if he might’ve been too harsh.

It wasn’t that Razor wanted to quarrel with you, I mean you were the first and only person that he’d managed to build a sincere connection with. It was only that he’d grown up with a complete distrust of humans, and as much as he tried to bury that aspect of himself it still came to the forefront at times.

“I don’t understand what you’re so angry about Razor?” You’d exclaimed, face twisting into an expression of annoyance.

“Why do you like them?” Razor had replied, gesturing towards the people who had arrived with you, trampling their way through the forest as if everything belonged to them simply because they were human. He could practical smell the arrogance wafting off them, and it made his hair stand on edge. It was frustrating that he didn’t have the words to convey that to you.

“My guild members?” You’d said, glancing over your shoulder. “Razor I work with them. We’re going on a trip.”

“I want them to leave.” He’d practically growled, moving to take your hand in his. “I want them to leave, I want you to stay.”

“Well you can’t do that Razor.” You’d said, tone growing more and more exasperated. “And I don’t understand why you’re so hostile to them.”

“They’re human.” To Razor this was enough, but evidently the answer was hardly satisfactory to you.

“I’m human.” You’d pointed out, raising an eyebrow. Razor shook his head.

“You’re different.”

“No, I’m not. You just like me. And like it or not I’m a human, and a human who has a job to do. I can’t stay here, and I can’t stop talking to all other humans.

“Why not?” He’d shot back. “It would be better. Humans are bad creatures.”

“You keep forgetting who I am!” You’d exclaimed, shaking your head. “Whatever, I’m not arguing this with you. I’ll see you in a day. I hope that you can think about my feelings by the time this is over.”

Well the day had come and gone and there was no sight of you. Razor was too angry though to feel much remorse, no matter how much he missed you. You were probably busy anyways, talking to other humans, fraternizing with the enemy. For what else could humans possibly be? They cut down trees, killed the inhabitants of the forests. Even the wolves weren’t safe, for what farmer hadn’t taken a shot at one of them at some point in his life? No, Razor was not the one in the wrong. You were just too used to them. You couldn’t see it.

Still your absence sat wrong with him, and he found himself scouring the edges of Wolvendom the next day, trying to figure out what had happened. It wasn’t as if you didn’t know what he thought after all. And surely you wouldn’t abandon him so quickly, surely.

Razor was hardly so sure when the sun went down the next night. It seemed you were well and truly gone, though where he couldn’t tell. Maybe you really had decided to abandon him, decided he was too much of a burden, decided you preferred humans anyways. The thought ate at him, and he found himself walking around with a bitter taste in his mouth, unsure what to do.

Razor wasn’t sure what finally caused him to cross out of Wolvendom to look for you. Perhaps it was anger, perhaps it was guilt, perhaps it was that he at least wanted to say goodbye. No matter the cause however he still found himself walking on an unfamiliar path, as the woods shifted to plains. He felt vulnerable, uncomfortable without his familiar family. But it was too late to turn back now, and so he pressed ahead.

All sense of discomfort faded away upon running into you. You looked the worse for wear, covered in dirt, your clothes ragged. For a moment Razor wondered what could’ve possibly caused this. Perhaps there was a creature out there he was not aware of. Running up to you he wrapped his arms around you.

“You’re hurt.” It was more of a question than a statement, and you seemed to understand that. Returning the hug you sighed slightly.

“I was stuck in one of the shallow caves off of the Stormbearer Mountains. The passage we went through started crumbling, and I was the last one in line. It took some time to dig me out.” You laughed slightly, but there was a tremor in your voice, and you seemed ill at ease. “It was so dark in there Razor, so utterly dark. I couldn’t imagine being a creature down there, it all seemed to weigh down on me, and I thought it’d collapse and bury me at any second.”

Razor had tightened his embrace, the image seared into his mind. There was a visceral fear in his reaction, the fear of what you’d just described, but it was more complicated than that. To be down there himself was terrifying, but for you to be in that situation, and for so long, it stole the air from his lungs and weighed him down with such a sense of dread he could barely stand it.

“Humans sent you down there?” The tone of his voice was seething, but your reply was much calmer than it had been before.

“Yes. They did. But they also saved me Razor, you must remember that.”

It was something he hadn’t considered, and as he pulled away to look you in the face he pondered the implications. What he’d said was true, yes, but what you’d said was also true. They could’ve quite easily left you if they wanted, could’ve left you for dead and said there was nothing to do about it. Certainly some humans would’ve done just that, but they didn’t. Instead they helped you, for days they had dug, and thanks to that you were safe.

“I was wrong.” He said, tone straight, for it was a fact. He was wrong, at least about your people he was wrong.

“There are many evil people out there.” You said, expression pensive. “There are those who kill and rob and lie and think only about themselves. There are those who cannot see the world around them. But you can’t judge all of humanity by that. There are also those who care for every aspect of the world they can, who burden themselves with all the misfortune they see, so much it might break them. Humans are complicated Razor. So yes you were wrong, but I cannot say you were completely so.”

Razor said nothing, absorbing what you’d said. It was hard not think in black and white, something necessary sometimes for survival. But ever since you’d entered his life he wanted to try to understand you, even a little bit. And, especially after today, he’d do anything to make that effort a reality.

For though he understood little of humans and their ways he knew of one thing for sure. And that was the love he carried for you.

Xiao

Looking back it was such a stupid argument. Of course all arguments seemed idiotic looking back after what happened. But if all arguments were stupid, then surely Xiao couldn’t’ve picked a stupider one to have.

“I wish you’d see me off at the bridge.” You remarked, strapping the last of your equipment into place. You were off to do another commission, something about recording a rare species of lizard and taking photographs of some rare luminous mosses, and once again the topic of goodbyes had come up.

“I’m saying goodbye now aren’t I?” Xiao tone was as brusque as ever, but this time you didn’t brush it off with your usual smile.

“I mean it Xiao.” You said instead, turning to look him straight in the face. “I know you don’t fraternize with people, I know that you consider it a result of the burdens you carry. I know that and I don’t ask you to go and set up shop in Liyue or some such thing. I do ask you though to simply be there when I leave the city. It would mean a lot to me to have you there when I step out into the wilderness, especially when I’m going to be gone for two days. Can’t you do this for me, at least this?” You searched his eyes, expression pleading, but Xiao simply scoffed and turned his head.

“Saying goodbye here should be enough. Besides, there aren’t any people here. Would you really want me to say goodbye surrounded by prying eyes?”

“No one is going to pry.” You pointed out, voice flat with annoyance. “And to answer your question, yes, yes I would like you to be there to say goodbye. I love you dearly Xiao, more than I have ever loved anyone, more than I ever will. But I cannot love you unequally. I don’t ask for much, but I am asking for this. Please say goodbye to me at the bridge.”

But Xiao merely scowled, shaking his head violently. Huffing you turned around, everything set and ready to go.

“Sometimes I don’t know why I put myself through this.” You muttered; stomping your feet ever so slightly, and slamming the door to the room behind you.

Xiao’s sense of time was usually quite poor. To adepti days were more like minutes, and even months seemed as abundant as grains of sand. One of the things that had most surprised him about starting a relationship with you was how his sense of time was affected by it. The days with you were mere moments, and the days where you were gone dragged on and on, minutes replaced by endless boredom.

This time was no different, instead the feeling was exacerbated. Although the first two days were a blur, made meaningless by Xiao’s irritation over your final conversation, the moment the third day dawned and you were nowhere to be found time ground to a halt, and Xiao no longer became sure of what day it was, sure that a month must’ve passed instead of a few hours. You must’ve been more irritated than he’d thought.

Still the adeptus was full of pride, pride and principles. If you were staying away over something so petty so be it. He’d not be the one going after you, not when he was utterly within his rights. Why should he changed so over the request of a human? No matter how much he loved you a part of him chafed at the idea, and thus he did nothing, instead sulking the days away under the concerned eyes of Verr Goldet.

If he was filled with pride though, there was also anxiety. Day three came and went, then day four, then day five. When day six arrived Xiao’s will seemed to give up, and he spent his hours in a restless sleep, something highly unusual for the adeptus labelled the “Vigilant Yaksha”. It was if you had taken all his strength away, and what remained was nothing but anxiety and his quickly shattering anger. Surely nothing was worth this feeling of being eaten away by poison. Surely.

Night had fallen, and the moon had taken her silent vigil over the land. Xiao knew that he should get up, knew he should go after you. But it was as if he was chained to the mattress. His head was filled with static and he felt as if he were burning up. A headache had come on the moment he’d opened his eyes, and now he found he could do nothing but lay with his thoughts, each becoming darker by the moment.

He recognized the weight of your footsteps as soon as they came into earshot. Bolting up, all fatigue leaving him, he slammed open the door, taking the stairs two at a time until he finally came face to face with you.

If he was expecting something, it certainly wasn’t this. Though there was a smile on your face it was marred by the bandage on your forehead, and by the long gash on your arm.

“What happened?” The words came out in a rasp. “Who did this to you?” The weight had come back, and Xiao swayed slightly, feeling altogether faint, the range of emotions he was experiencing becoming overwhelming.

You pressed your hand to his chest, the other moving to cup his cheek. “No one did this to me.” You said, voice slightly hoarse. “One of the caves I was in collapsed, and I fell and hit my head while running away from the entrance. Thankfully it was nothing serious, and it only took them three days to get me out.”

Three days. The situation seemed torturous. Xiao was a creature of air, the mere idea of being beneath the earth was claustrophobic to him. It was to humans too, that he knew, knew from what he’d heard from Rex Lapis. The idea of you trapped underground, injured and unable to escape, it shook him to his very core.

Taking your hand in his he kissed your palm, silently thanking Rex Lapis and all the other archons for letting you come home. The situation, what you’d gone through, it was all crashing down on him. You were the most precious thing in the world, the one he loved most, the only person he would truly love, in all his years on this earth it would forever be that way. How could he take you for granted? Take your needs for granted?

“I’ll never fight with you again.” He whispered.

“I don’t know about that.” You said, smiling slightly despite it all. “Fights are hardly unheard of after all.”

“I won’t. Not about something so stupid. Not when…” he trained off for a moment, eyes clouding over. “… Anyways I won’t do it.”

“Does that mean you’ll say farewell at the bridge?” You asked, tone hopeful.

“I will.” Xiao promised. “I’ll do anything for you. For you are that which I love the most.” And leaning over to kiss you Xiao made a silent vow that he’d never let you go through anything like that. Never again.

#I never know the right time to post these #diluc #razor #xiao #diluc x reader #razor x reader #xiao x reader #genshin impact #genshin impact fanfiction #requested #scenarios #my writing

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sundaysundaes · 4 years ago

Text

Whispers

Lee Donghyuck/Haechan X Reader | Smut, Fluff | 5k | Idol AU

Summary: Donghyuck has been busy promoting his new album and no matter how much he misses you, he can’t see you in person due to his schedules. Desperate for your touch, he begins to call you late at night.

Warnings: Phone sex, masturbation (male and female), dirty talk (but is it still called ‘dirty talk’ if Donghyuck is just being honest and saying whatever that comes to his mind?), no plot with a lot of dialogues

The vibration of your iPhone wakes you up from your dream. Being thrown back so suddenly to reality makes you feel slightly lightheaded but it’s all worth it the second you see his name written on your screen. Rubbing your eyes away from sleep, you answer his call, “Hyuck?”

“Hey, Noona.” The airiness of his honeyed voice sounds familiar and pleasant in your ears that it instantly paints a smile on your face. “Did I wake you?”

You refrain yourself from yawning. “Yeah, I fell asleep reading.” Narrowing your eyes irritatedly at the brightness of the fluorescent light hanging on your ceiling, you decide to switch it off and uses the dim glow of the bedside lamp instead.

“What time is it?” He gasps when he notices the time on his screen. “Three AM?! Shit, I didn’t realize it was this late. Sorry.”

“It’s fine, I shouldn’t be sleeping anyway. I still have to work on my papers, so it’s actually good that you woke me up.” You nuzzle close to the pillow, holding your phone to your ear with one hand, blinking sleepily. “Did you just get back from schedule?”

“Yeah.” He sighs wearily. “I’m dead tired right now. I wish I could just take a day off, you know? I mean, performing is fun, but promoting a new album can be so hectic. I’ve only been sleeping for, like, two hours per day since last week.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.” You bring the teddy bear he’d given you on your birthday close to your chest, pretending like you were embracing him. “I wish you could take some days off, too.”

“Yeah?” Somehow, he sounds like he’s smiling. “Then do what?”

“I don’t know, play games, I guess? Or just lie around in bed, doing nothing.”

“I’d rather be doing something, actually.” He chuckles softly, a hint of teasing in his voice. “Or someone.”

“Gross,” you retort but you can feel your lips curving upwards. “It’s okay if you want to rest, Hyuck. You don’t have to force yourself to call me every day. Your health should be your number one priority.”

“What, you don’t want me to call you?”

You freeze. “Of course I want you to call me. I just—”

“I thought you’d be excited to hear my voice.”

The sudden bitterness in his tone makes you sit up from the bed, eyebrows adjoined in confusion. “What—Hyuck—”

“You know what?” He exhales loudly. “You’re right, I shouldn’t have called. It’s late anyway.“

“Can you please just listen—”

“I’m tired. Let’s just talk tomorrow.”

“But—”

“I’m hanging up.”

“Hyuck—” But you’re only answered by silence when the line gets disconnected. You stare at your phone, eyes wide in disbelief.

What the hell just happened?

Upset and vexed, you dial his number. You wait with your jaw clenched until he picks up on the fourth ring. “Can’t you listen to me for one second?!” Not sure if it’s because of the drowsiness or exhaustion, but you find yourself shouting even before he says anything. “Of course, I want you to call me, you idiot! It’s the only thing I’ve been waiting all day. Every day, Hyuck, I wait for your call every day. I keep catching myself checking on my phone every ten minutes, waiting for your texts, wanting to call you. I miss you, of course, I miss you—you’re—” You turn stiff when you hear him cackling from the other side of the phone. “Are you laughing?”

“I’m sorry.” His laughter is contagious but you put up your best effort not to get infected. “You’re so cute when you get all riled up. Isn’t it obvious that I was just joking?”

“Right. I’m hanging up.”

“Wait, Noona—” You listen to him with your eyes throwing ice daggers to the wall. “I’m sorry. I won’t do it again, I promise.” There’s a small pause where you’re too irritated to talk and he’s too unsure to start but he tries. “So, like… you miss me?”

“Not right now.”

“Aaw, come on, I was just messing around.” You can imagine him puckering his lips, batting his eyelashes for forgiveness. “Please, tell me. Tell me how much you miss me.”

You throw yourself back to the bed, huffing. “I don’t think I want to.”

“You get cuter when you’re angry, you know that?” He sighs to the air. “Aaah… I miss you. I miss you so much, Noona, you don’t even know. Probably more than you miss me.”

I don’t think that’s possible. “Of course,” you reply, holding back a smile from breaking on your face. “Since I only miss you a little bit.”

“A little bit?”

“A tiny, tiny bit. On second thought, maybe I don’t miss you at all.”

“Is that so?” You can tell he’s exhausted by the way he lets out his chuckle, but it doesn’t mean it’s less sincere. “It really has been a while since we last saw each other, hasn’t it?”

You nod to yourself. “Four months.”

“You keep count, huh?” His teasing tone makes you flushed. “Love me that much, do you?”

“Around four months,” you correct him, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible when the truth is, you can practically hear your heart hammering against your ribcages. “Or maybe three? Five? I don’t know.”

“Why are you so cute? Seriously, how can you be this cute?” Donghyuck sits on the edge of his bed, lips forming so widely that it nearly splits his face in half. When his chuckles have receded, his eyes begin to soften. “I love you, Noona. You know that, right?”

People might be thinking about how lucky you are to have a member of one of the most prestigious boybands in the world confessing his love for you at 3 AM, but honestly? You’re just so grateful for the fact that Lee Donghyuck, a boy who stole your heart nearly a decade ago when you were too young to even understand the word love, finally realized that your entire relationship with him was deeper than a mere friendship. It took years for both of you to finally gain enough bravery to act out your feelings, especially when he managed to shine brighter than you could ever imagine being. You were afraid of it—afraid that you would be burnt by his fame, afraid that he would discard you for he had everything and you only had him. But Donghyuck didn’t want anything. He only wanted you.

You love him. You’ve been loving him for as long as you can remember so hearing him say the words, no matter how often he has mentioned it already, still sparks fire through your veins. You’ll never admit that out loud, though.

“I’ve been thinking about you a lot these days,” he sheepishly adds.

“More than you think about yourself?” You snort. “I’m shocked.”

“Eeyyy, I’m serious.” The sound of your giggle makes him sigh, longing to hear it in person. “I wish I could be with you right now. I thought about you a lot during today’s photoshoot too.” He lies down on the bed, running a hand through his hair. “I thought about our last date. About that red dress you wore. Man, you looked so cute in that dress.”

You half-buried your face in the pillow, heat blossoming on your cheeks. “Now this is the topic I like to talk about.”

Donghyuck scrunches up his nose. “Aren’t you gonna say I looked nice too that day?”

Even the slightest thought of him—any version of him, whether it was him dressing handsomely on a date or him waking up in the morning with a bird’s nest on his head—never fails to send butterflies swirling in your stomach, but again, you’ll never admit that out loud. “Meh,” you jeer, even adding a shrug when you know he won’t be able to see. “Could’ve dressed better. I mean, ripped jeans? Really?”

“Yah, yah, yah. You said I looked good wearing those jeans!”

“We were going to a fancy restaurant and I wore a semi-formal dress, Hyuck. They just didn’t match my outfit. They didn’t match anyone’s outfit there, really.”

“Really? You’re gonna say that? Even after you spent the whole night stealing glances at me with drool on your face?”

You wish you could say he was lying, but you indeed spent the entire night drooling at him over the sight of his black leather jacket and the way his jeans just wrapped his thighs so perfectly. “I have lost interest in this topic.” It’s for the best before you combust into flames. “Where are you right now?”

“Back at the dorm.” He softly yawns. “In my room.”

“Alone?”

“Yep, since Johnny-hyung is filming out of town.” When you stay quiet, unsure of what to say, Donghyuck grins mischievously. “Why, do you wanna sneak in? I think I can afford to lose some sleep tonight, if you know what I mean.”

Flustered, you retort, “After Johnny caught us cuddling last time? No way.”

“Yeah, about that,” Donghyuck says a little awkwardly, “After you went home he said to me that he heard the whole thing—”

“What do you mean the whole thing?” The horror in your face and your voice is clear.

“I meant, the whole thing. Us having sex and stuff.”

You could practically feel the exact moment when your soul is leaving your body, but Donghyuck continues as if he’s simply talking about getting caught cheating during a test. “But it’s okay, he’s cool. He’s got my back.”

“Oh my God.” You nearly faint. “I will never show my face in front of your roommate, ever again.”

“Yeah, about that—“

“Are you fucking kidding me, Hyuck—”

“Jaehyun-hyung heard us too.”

“What?!”

“And he told Mark-hyung about it later on, and that’s the reason why I had this bump on my head for three days.” Donghyuck pouts, rubbing the back of his head, lean fingers carding through soft brown locks. “He hit me with a book, lecturing me about bringing you to the dorm as if he never did that himself.”

Not trying to overreact about it, but you’re suffocating by this point. “Why are you so chill about this?!”

“They heard us having sex, not murdering the innocents.” He rolls his eyes but seems amused at your reaction. “To be honest, I hear a lot of stuff happening in our dorm that I’m sure you don’t wanna know. Like, a lot a lot. Way worse than what I did with you.”

“And does Taeyong know about this?”

“Taeyong-hyung needs his beauty sleep so we agreed not to tell him stuff.”

“I feel sorry for him.”

“I just feel sorry he’s not part of our antics.” Donghyuck shrugs, kicking off his shoes and socks before he leans against the headboard. “How about you? Are you alone?”

“Yeah.” You heavily sigh, still feeling quite dizzy after hearing the truth he just blurted out. “My roommate’s gone for the weekend.”

“Oh…” He taps his fingers against his stomach, a weird feeling swirling inside his chest as a thought begins to form. “That’s… great…”

Donghyuck’s tongue lays heavy in his mouth, suddenly loses the ability to form a simple conversation as his mind begins to focus entirely on something else. It all started that one night when he pretended to be asleep, when in fact, he was listening to his roommate, Johnny, speaking to his girlfriend in hushed whispers. The way the older man was chuckling to his phone was suspicious, and the more he tried to listen intently, the more he realized that Johnny wasn’t conversing. He was giving orders with a voice thick with seduction. The sensual words Johnny used made Donghyuck’s ears turn scarlet, and he buried his face deeper behind his blanket. Since then, the curiosity within him has been rising more and more, nearly suffocating him sometimes when he desperately yearned for your touch but his schedule never let him take a goddamn break.

Not knowing the dirty thoughts that flit across his mind, you carry on your conversation like usual. “I guess, but it does get lonely sometimes when she’s not around. I actually like having a roommate.” The sandalwood aroma from your diffuser, combined with his velvety voice, comforts you and you’re finally able to relax. “Have you been eating well? I’ve been craving for strawberry—”

“What are you wearing?”

“—pancakes—what?”

“I…” Donghyuck heaves out a heavy breath, biting the corner of his lip, unsure yet not ready to give up on his desire. “I just… I was wondering—Are you wearing pajamas?”

“Umm…” The way he asks about it sends heat rising to your cheeks. He doesn’t sound as innocent as the words he uses. You look down, fingers curling at the hemline of your clothes. “I’m wearing one of your shirts, actually.”

Donghyuck throws his head back, eyes tightly shut as he curses silently into the air, his phone pressed against his chest. The sight of you wearing his oversized shirt has been one of his most recurring fantasies and not being able to see you, but knowing that you are wearing his shirt, kills him.

“Hyuck?”

Donghyuck brings his phone back to his ear. “Sorry, there was a… Mark.” He mentally slaps himself on the head.

“There was a Mark?”

“I mean, Mark-hyung was here—but he just left so—"

“Are you drunk again?”

“No!” Donghyuck rubs his temple. This is not going well, he shouts in his mind. “Why—” He winces when he hears his voice crack. Clearing his throat, he tries again. “Why are you wearing my shirt?”

Because it smells like you and it helps me sleep better. “Just because,” you quietly mumble, eyes locked to the ceiling. “Why are you asking me this exactly?”

“Just because,” he mimics. His breathing sounds more prominent as if he’s in the same room, only a few inches away from your ear. It’s the reason why you enjoy talking to him this way instead of taking video calls. You can focus solely on his honeyed voice, almost like a lullaby to your ears. “Can you tell me…” he continues, laced with both hesitation and anticipation, “What else you're wearing?”

“Umm…” You take a deep breath, trying to keep yourself composed. “I don’t think I want to say.”

“Please, Noona.” The sudden desperation in his plead startles you as if he’s losing control of himself, little by little. He seems to notice that too because when he speaks again, it’s steadier, almost formal. “I just… I want to know. If that’s okay.”

“Well…” You curl your toes. “Aside from your shirt, I’m…” Just say it, for God’s sake. He’s your boyfriend. He’s seen you naked. “I’m only wearing my panties.”

There’s a pause that makes your heart thump. “Not, uhh…” Donghyuck wets his lip. “Not even a bra?”

You fiddle with your fingers. “N-no.”

“Fuck.”

You nearly drop your phone. The guttural groan he just emitted from the back of his throat catches you off guard. “Hyuck..?”

“Noona, there’s—” Donghyuck sits up straight, nails nearly sinking to his jean-clad thigh. “There’s something I want to try.” There’s a sense of urgency mixed with minimum self-control. “I-if you don’t mind…”

You know where this is going. “What is it?”

“Just—Just follow my lead, okay?”

You shakily nod your head. When he calls out your name again, you remember that you have to say it in words. “Okay.”

“Can you…” Donghyuck’s heart is beating out of control. His mind desperately tries to answer how the fuck do I start this?! “Can you, umm, lie down on the bed for me?”

You can tell he’s nervous and it’s both reassuring and endearing to know that he’s never done this with anyone else before and probably not mentally ready to do it with you, but tries to go all the way because he knows both of you need to find a way to release all of these pent-up emotions.

You follow his order. “I’m…” You take a deep breath so your voice won’t tremble too much. “I’m lying on my bed.”

Donghyuck always takes a few seconds before answering, as if he’s battling inside his head as he tries to sort out his thoughts. “Is your light turned on?”

“Yes.”

“Turn it off.”

You switch off the button on your bedside lamp. “Okay, it’s off.”

“Okay, mine too.” Then all you can hear is his slightly ragged breathing. “It’s… a bit awkward, isn’t it?” He chuckles nervously, followed by an inaudible, “Fuck, why am I so nervous,” as he’s straying away from the phone.

A smile paints your lips. “You’re adorable.”

“What?”

“Nothing.”

When silence strikes, Donghyuck scratches his cheek. “Do you… want to know what I’m wearing?”

You gulp. “S-sure.”

“Well…” Donghyuck takes a look at himself. “I’m wearing a denim jacket, a white shirt, a pair of jeans—I just got back from a photoshoot so—”

So he must look good. “Take them off.”

He’s probably as startled as you are when you hear the words tumbling down your mouth. But even if he is as embarrassed as you are, he doesn’t make it as obvious. “Sure.” A rustling sound can be heard, and you let your imagination wander. You can tell he’s taking off his jacket and soon, his shirt will follow. Donghyuck would always take his shirt off by grabbing the fabric from the back and yank it over his head, instead of crossing his arms at his waist. There’s something masculine about it, but you tend to get more distracted at the way his muscles would contract in his lean stomach. His silver necklace would dangle around his neck, and he’d smirk whenever he caught you staring at him for a second too long.

“My shirt’s off,” he quietly states, snapping you out of your reverie. “Now take yours off—wait! Wait. Leave it on. I want to imagine you wearing my shirt. Just take off your panties.”

“I’m—” It’s so damn hard to focus when you feel so ashamed just by hearing his instructions. “Okay…” Your fingers are quivering when they slide down your stomach, thumb hooking around the hem before you pull your lingerie down to the middle of your thighs.

“Lie down,” he whispers, “Prop a pillow behind your back. Are you comfortable?”

“Y-yeah, just…” You sigh, head going dizzy. “Embarrassed.”

The airy laughter that flows from his mouth is too innocent to be heard in this kind of situation. “So cute. Me too, actually. I’ve never done this before.” When his chuckles have receded, the nervousness grows vivid in his voice once again. “Do you, umm... Do you want to stop?”

You’re supposed to say yes, or at least a bit conflicted about it, so it shocks you when you immediately answer, “No,” without hesitation.

“Thank God.” Donghyuck sighs, smiling softly against the phone. “‘Cause I wouldn’t know what to do if you said yes.” He unbuckles his belt with one hand, taking it off as his heartbeat soars through the roof. “Then, umm… can you spread your legs? As wide as you can.”

You feel so exposed even when no one is looking. Following his guidance, you question, “What about you? What are you doing?”

“I’m…” Donghyuck swallows hard, looking down at the way his hand is pressing against his semi-hardness. “I’m rubbing myself over my pants.”

Fuck, you mentally groan. “Why aren’t you touching yourself directly?”

“Cause I want to wait for you.” He has his eyes closed, hand slipping under the hemline of his jeans, stroking himself over his boxer. “I want to picture you rubbing your fingers on your clit. I want to hear you moan my name when you do.”

Oh my God. “Then guide me,” you plead. There’s something so irresistibly sexy about him touching himself while picturing you pleasuring yourself with your fingers. “Tell me what to do, Hyuck.”

He runs his tongue over his lower lip. The excitement of being able to act as a puppeteer, tugging on your strings, sends all blood rushing south. “Can you push your shirt up? Don’t take it off, just—” He exhales, taking a moment to collect himself after a certain obscene thought of you touching yourself entered his mind. “Just make sure it’s not in the way.”

“Okay.” You grip the hemline of your shirt, pulling it up until it pools above your chest. “Now, what?”

“I want you to touch your breasts.” You’re more aroused by his breathy voice and lustful tone than embarrassed at this point. “Imagine me, Noona,” Donghyuck whispers, and he sounds so close, as if he’s lying down next to you. “Imagine me with my hands on you, caressing your breasts. Can you do that?”

You squeeze your breast, mumbling out a weak, “Yes…” The memory of Donghyuck, embracing you from behind, his naked chest pressed against your spine, hot mouth lazily pressing wet kisses against your nape suddenly comes alive in your mind. You still remember how sexy he sounded moaning out your name as he rocked his hips forward, his fingers exploring around your chest, rubbing and pinching at a certain spot to make you press closer to him in desperation for more of his touch.

“Suck on your fingers, make them wet, then bring them back down.” Donghyuck’s hips are bucking against his hand, his fingers tugging his zipper down. “Imagine my mouth latching on your nipple, sucking it the way I always do. The way you like me to do.”

You bring your fingers to your mouth, coating two of them with saliva before you bring them back down to pinch your sensitive bud. With your eyes closed and his heavy breathing in your ear, the wet sensation of your fingers gives you a clear image of his tongue flicking against your nub.

“Tell me how you feel.”

“It’s not enough,” you croak out, “I want to feel you directly on my skin.”

Donghyuck takes a sharp breath. “You don’t even know how much I want to be there and touch you.” The way his voice suddenly becomes deep sends shivers down your spine. “I want to suck bruises on your skin. I want to mark you everywhere, again and again, so the bruises will last for days. I want you to remember me every time you see yourself in the mirror.”

You sheepishly smile, though your heart is still racing. “I always remember you even without that, Haechannie.”

The sudden change of his name warms his heart. “I wish you’re the only one who calls me that. You make my stage name sounds better, special. I could have thousands of people screaming my name but none of them makes me feel the way you do.” As he slides his hand under his boxer, finally making direct contact with his skin, Donghyuck becomes desperate once again. “Bring your other hand down. I want you to touch yourself, Noona, please.”

You slide your hand between your legs, tentatively rubbing yourself between your folds. “Hyuck…”

“Does it feel good?”

You nod, eyes shut, and your mind wanders. “Yes…”

“Rub your clit for me. And imagine I’m doing that with my tongue.”

You can picture him with his head between your legs so perfectly behind your closed eyelids. He has done it several times and you remember how he would always start slow, placing open-mouthed kisses on the inner part of your thigh before dipping his head down and swipe his tongue along your folds—all the while never breaking eye-contact. He would press a kiss against your clit, and lick you slowly because he’d want you to beg for it. He never directly told you but you could tell he liked being in control because the second you whispered “Please, Hyuck,” he would immediately indulge you with everything you wanted and more.

Donghyuck would suck hard on your clit, doing it so suddenly that you’d nearly crush him by wrapping your legs too tightly around his head. Amazed and delighted by your reaction, he would break into a smile with his tongue still darting out to taste you, mouth pressing harder against your skin until he plunged his tongue inside your heat.

You moan out his name at the memory, directly to the phone.

“Fuck, baby, you sound so perfect…” Donghyuck nearly whimpers and the word baby stirs something within you as he never called you that before.

“Call me like that again…” You rub yourself harder on the spot you like the most. “Please, Hyuck…”

“Baby…” Donghyuck’s fingers are curling harder around his length, pumping himself in accordance to every gasp and moan you’re emitting. “I wish I could see you—I wish I could lock my eyes with yours as I eat you up. I want to see your face, every single expression you make—I bet you look so cute, so goddamn... erotic.”

Your hold around your phone loosens but fortunately for you, the pillow pressing against it keeps it close to your ear. “Touch yourself,” you breathily murmurs, “I want you to touch yourself too.”

“I am, baby,” Donghyuck softly moans, his fingers tightening around his length. “What else do you want me to do?”

“I want you to stroke yourself harder and run your thumb over your slit.” Donghyuck zealously follows, cursing under his breath at the pleasure. “And I want you to keep doing it until my name escapes your lips.”

“God, I want you.” He repeats your name over and over again, as ordered, with him stroking himself faster each time. “Noona, I want your mouth on me. I want to see you hollow your cheeks around me—like how you did to me when we were backstage, that time after the concert. You looked so pretty that night, so eager—so desperate for me—”

“Me too. I want to make you feel good too. I—” You nip at your bottom lip, feeling goosebumps creeping up your skin when he moans out your name. You’ve always loved his voice, loved it more than anything else in the world, and the sounds he makes when he’s in bed with you is the sexiest thing that even your poor mind can’t even begin to imagine. And now, focusing solely on his voice, listening to his filthy, sinful words, he’s driving you to the edge of your sanity.

“I’ve touched myself before at the thought of you,” he confesses breathlessly, “Several times, even way before we started dating.”

You’re trembling at the thought. “Haechannie—”

“You don’t know just how much—” The sound of him trying to stifle down a moan only makes you crave for him more. “—how much I wanted you back then. How much I want you now. Even during high school, I just—I wanted you—wanted to touch you—wanted—ah fuck,” a whine slipped out his lips, “Wanted to hold you so bad, to make love to you until—”

At the rustling sounds, him whimpering at his touches, and you rubbing yourself on the perfect spot, you know you won’t last long. “H-Hyuck, are you close?”

“Just a little bit more, Noona, ah—” He thrashes his head against the pillow, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down as he swallows hard. “Fuck, I need to be inside you. I need to feel you clenching your walls around me.” At the memory of you gazing at him with anticipation building inside your seductive, half-lidded eyes, as you parted your legs to give him permission to ravish you the way he wanted, Donghyuck quickens the pace, thrusting vigorously into his hand. “Fuck yourself with your fingers, baby, please.”

You’re more than keen to follow, inserting one digit inside your heat with another one following soon after. You can visualize him bringing your legs in the air until they dangle over his shoulders, his hips slamming hard against yours with each thrust. “Hyuck—”

“If you were here right now,” he nearly growls, “I would fuck you so hard until you’re mewling my name against the sheets. And I won’t stop, I won’t stop even if you beg me to. I won’t stop until I’m done with you.”

Donghyuck doesn’t sound like he’s trying to dirty talk which only makes it even more arousing to your ear. It’s as if he’s losing control of his mouth, just saying anything that comes to mind. The honesty, the urgency, his breathy, desperate calls of your name between lewd words—

You choke out a sob. “Hyuck—I’m close—”

“Me too—N-noona—Kiss me—”

It’s one of the most intense orgasms you’ve ever felt and it’s funny because you never really enjoyed touching yourself before. Donghyuck follows a few seconds after, moaning your name so erotically that will probably give you a hard time falling asleep for days at the thought of it. You’re left dazed, staring at the ceiling with half-lidded eyes. Your phone lays forgotten on the pillow next to you. Mustering all the strength you have left, you reach out for it. “Hyuck…?”

You can hear him breathing heavily. “I’m here,” he says. “Are you okay? Did you get to come?”

“Y-yes.” Now that it’s over, you begin to feel self-conscious again and the heat that blooms on your cheeks nearly wash every bit of your orgasm away in an instant. “Did you?”

“I made a huge mess.” He chuckles, sounding just as embarrassed as you are. “Fuck, didn’t realize it was going to be this good when we started. What would’ve happened if we had Face-Timed each other instead?”

Your head nearly explodes at the thought. “One step at a time, Hyuck. I’m practically dying from shame right now.”

He laughs a little at that. “So, you don’t really oppose the idea? Man, I have something to look forward to then.”

“Shut up, you’re gross. Is this the reason you called me?”

“No,” he hastily says, “I swear, I called because I missed hearing your voice.” Then he thinks about it again. “Well, I mean, I have been thinking about doing, uhh, these kinds of things with you but trust me, it wasn’t the reason why I called.”

“Sure,” you flatly reply, teasing him.

“Yah, yah, yah, it’s your fault for saying that you were wearing nothing but my shirt!”

“It’s your fault for asking me what I was wearing!”

It’s always like this with him. You’re bickering at one point, having sex at another time, then goes back to bickering once again. But it’s endearing, you suppose, because after this, you’ll be murmuring loving words, and just when you begin to think about it, Donghyuck whispers into the phone.

“I love you, Noona. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

And you smile. “I love you too, Haechannie. You’re the second best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

“What the hell is the first one?”

“Chicken nuggets.”

“You’re so dead.”

***

815 notes · View notes

spxllcxstxr · 4 years ago

Text

Game On • J.P

(Gif not mine)

Writing Challenge: @lunalovecroft ‘s 2.7k Trope Writing Challenge! Congrats again! Everyone go check out their fantastic blog! Trope: Quidditch Rivals and Secret Dating

Summary: No one knows that rival captains, Potter and (Y/Ln), have been in a secret relationship for quite some time. Then, the Championship Game arrives.

Warnings: cursing, a small hint of steaminess (nothing big—it’s like a quick mention and that’s it), slight Wolfstar and Dorlene mention, mention of breakfast at the Great Hall, kissing, use of Ms when referring to the reader (only once), nonGryffindor!reader

Word Count: 2k

A.N: Kinda long winded but I actually like the dialogue for once??? Wow. Congrats again on 2.7k! Everyone go follow them because I get so happy seeing them on my dash ❤️ Hope you all enjoy and love you all ❤️

****

Your eyes snap open hours before they have to, your dorm still pitch black, the soft snores of your friends filling up the otherwise quiet space. The covers feel heavy and restricting on top of you, something you quickly remedy by kicking them clear off the mattress.

You swing your legs over the edge, feet meeting the cool wooden floor.

Rubbing your eyes, you glance over at the ornate clock on your nightstand. One in the morning. You sigh, your goal of getting a good night’s sleep before your important match in ruins.

Your skin crawls at the thought of the Championship Match only hours from now. The amount of blood, sweat, and tears you’ve shed in preparation for it is frankly quite concerning.

Unable to get back to sleep, you drag yourself out of bed, shoving your feet into plush slippers before slipping quietly out of your room. You’re forced to tiptoe around scattered books, most of them Quidditch related from last night.

There’s no way you’ll be getting back to sleep anytime soon, the anxiety of the morning’s match coursing through your veins. The nerves were the worst part of competitive Quidditch—after all these years you still couldn’t shake them.

Absentmindedly, you think about heading to the Kitchens, the warm and comfortable environment sounding like exactly what you need.

Late night visits to the Kitchens aren’t anything new, you and James often sneak out after curfew hidden underneath his Invisibility Cloak. Sitting in the far corner behind countless shelves and barrels was a frequent date for the two of you since it offered enough privacy from the rest of the castle.

The two of you could hold hands on the table, his thumb open to draw little figure eights between your knuckles. Your eyes could light up just looking at him without the fear of being called out. His lips could capture yours in a sweet or passionate kiss and no one would know.

The real and complete reason for keeping your relationship a secret was long since forgotten, but the general idea is still shared. It’s just easier being Quidditch rivals instead of being Quidditch rivals that snogged the second feet touched the ground. Neither of you were ever accused of going easy on the other during matches, and that’s how the two of you preferred it.

Plus, there was something romantic about sneaking around the castle and through secret passage ways pressed closely underneath his cloak. Stolen kisses in empty classrooms and quick shags in broom closets were fun when they weren’t inconvenient.

In the back of your mind you have an inkling that James might be huddled up in the usual spot as well, considering he has a match as well in a few hours.

You shuffle through the common room, a few third years spread out on the couch, sleeping atop their textbooks and notes. The fire crackles and pops lowly. A shiver runs down your spine as you step out into the corridor.

“Lumos!”

A murky blue light blooms from the tip of your wand, lighting up the dark corridor.

You shuffle across the stone, the occasional laugh or snore echoing throughout.

Filch isn’t an issue at this time of night, surprisingly the old care taker does get some sort of beauty sleep, though it does him no good, so you find yourself walking normally instead of carefully creeping around.

It doesn’t take long to get to the portrait of the bowl of fruit, faint giggles coming from the pear. You extend your arm to tickle the bottom of the pear, it’s giggles erupting even louder before morphing into an intricate brass doorknob.

Stepping through the threshold you’re immediately met with a blast of heat due to the large fireplace that practically takes up the wall to your right. Even though it’s the middle of the night, plates and goblets and utensils are clanking and crashing together, the pitter patter of house-elves darting around the area isn’t surprising at this point.

“Nox.”

The blue light fades and flickering orange takes over.

A small and pale grey figure rushes up to you, jittery like they’ve just consumed a gallon of coffee. One ear droops low enough where it’s almost dragging across the floor while the other is significantly shorter.

“Ms. (Y/Ln)!” The house-elf squeaks, wringing their lavender cloth between their fingers. “Mr. Potter is waiting for you!”

“Alright, Tilly.” You smile warmly at the elf. “Thank you.”

As you make your way to your usual spot in the back of the Kitchens, you hear Tilly bound back over to the counters, joining the many other house-elves that work down here.

Behind stacks of old crates and barrels, there’s an old and decrepit picnic table, obscured from the rest of the room. Each time you and James show up you’re surprised the house-elves haven’t chucked it into the large fire yet. It’s so rickety it’s practically only good for firewood.

And being the spot for the two of you to find refuge in.

James is sitting with his back against the wall, legs outstretched across the bench just like you suspected. He’s lazily tracing a finger around the lip of his steaming mug, hazel eyes lost in thought. From your spot you can see his teeth toying with his bottom lip.

“You ok Jamie?” You ask softly, trying not to startle him out of his thoughts.

His eyes flick up to yours before he fixes his glasses and runs a hand through his bedhead.

“Knew you’d join me eventually, love.” He sends over a wink, face lighting up.

“And you didn’t think to pick me up at my common room?” You playfully scoff, slotting yourself between his legs, face pressed into his chest.

The red fabric smells suspiciously like the Quidditch shed, like he got in some late night practice.

“Oh yes, because standing out in the cold corridors outside of your common room after curfew is much better than just waiting for you in the warm Kitchens.” James’ chin rests in the top of your head, his arms wrapped securely around your waist.

“Blimey, chivalry really is dead.”

“Y’know, you could’ve waited outside the Gryffindor Tower for me.” James points out, chuckling at your complaint.

“I’m sorry.” You gasp. “Who has the Invisibility Cloak, again?”

“You got here just fine, didn’t you, love?” He snorts, chest rumbling.

“Whatever.” You grumble, rolling your eyes in defeat.

James sighs, rubbing your side. “You ready for the morning?”

You hum noncommittally, the thought of tomorrow’s match swirling through your mind.

“Nervous, love?” His voice is soft and delicate against your temple.

“I mean, this is my last chance, Jamie.” You mumble into his chest. “And of course it’s against you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean, (Y/n)?” James asks, concern laced within his voice.

“It’s just that you’re an amazing player and I’m—“

“A spectacular player as well.” He interjects. “I’ve seen you out there practicing. You’ve built a bloody good team this year. We’re on equal footing.”

“Yeah well, I’ve never beaten you before.” You huff lightly, playing with the hem of his shirt.

“So?” He questions. “That doesn’t mean anything. There’s a reason you’ve made it into the Championship match, (Y/n). Because you’re a fucking phenomenal Captain. And I’ll hex anyone that tells you otherwise.” You feel his fingers flex angrily against your waist.

“You’re so sweet.” You pick your head up slightly to face him, a pout tugging at your lips.

“Guess I should give you a good luck kiss now, considering we won’t have time in the morning.” James’ hazel eyes shine in the flickering light while looking into your own.

“Does luck even last that long?” You bring your fingers up to hover over his sharp jawline.

“Sadly, love, we’ll have to test that.” He sighs.

You bring your lips to meet his, your fatigue making it a bit sloppier than it should’ve been. He nips at your lips, pulling you closer to his chest momentarily before pulling away.

You whine slightly at the loss of warmth.

“Gotta save some of that luck for myself, love. Can’t just let you win.” He smirks, lips grazing your hairline.

The two of you end up sitting there for another hour or so, listening to the fire crackling and the house-elves rummage around. Eventually, he pulls you underneath his cloak and drops you back off at your common room, a quick peck pressed to your lips.

You manage to drift back off to sleep, dreaming of James rather than Quidditch.

When you pry your eyes open for the second time, the sun is actually filtering through your curtains and most of your dormmates are awake and shuffling around.

You tune them out the best you can, opting to go through your routine in whatever silence you can find.

Your routine is quite simple, you let your joints pop and muscles stretch, trying to shake yourself awake.

The rest of the castle seems to be alive with boisterous laughter and over the top festivities. Glancing around at the corridors and the Great Hall, you’re able to notice a pretty even split between red and gold and your own house colors.

This was going to be one hell of a rematch.

Marlene and Sirius have a crowd forming around them as they flex and throw out trash talk. You watch as Remus and Dorcas try to coax them down from the tabletop, but they seem unsuccessful.

Peter, Mary, and Lily are fawning over James, hyping him up, even you can tell from across the Hall.

But he isn’t paying attention to them, his eyes are clearly trained on you behind his round glasses.

“Already envisioning Potter’s demise?”

You tear your eyes away from him, instead focusing on your teammate.

“Oh absolutely.” You smirk, before throwing yourself into last minute charts and maneuvers.

Breakfast goes by quick, your leg never stops bouncing underneath the table and your fingers tap incessantly against your goblet.

You and your team strut down to the pitch earlier than anyone else. There’s a slight breeze rolling through the grounds, something you take into account.

It becomes a bit of a blur after you’ve changed into your uniform, the crowd begins to show up and their cheers take over your hearing.

Remus is announcing the game, which you have no idea why since it never goes well for anyone. His commentary ranges from picking on James to flirting with Sirius to just trying to get McGonagall pissed off.

Marching out to the center of the grassy pitch, broom in hand, you’re bombarded with your name being enthusiastically chanted across the entire stadium. Confidence bubbles inside of you as you face James, Madam Hooch just beside you.

“Alright everyone, I expect a nice, clean, and fair game today. This is the Championship, no one will get away with any funny business.” Her tone is clipped as her yellow eyes take in everyone. “Captains, shake hands.”

You and James take a step forward, his hand firmly grasping yours.

“Good luck, love.”

With your hands still connected, James plants his lips on your own, and you eagerly kiss back.

The crowd erupts into even louder cheers.

“Bloody hell!” You hear Remus exclaim over the loud speaker. “James and (Y/Ln) are now snogging on the pitch! You own me five bloody Galleons, Sirius Black! I told you, you—“

“Lupin!”

James takes a step back, his usual smirk painted across his face. His hazel eyes glint mischievously behind his goggles, which he takes the time to adjust like they were his own glasses.

The roar of the entire castle fills your ears after your little reveal.

It’s a little overwhelming, you have to admit, but it doesn’t deter you. You’ve spent too many hours training for this very moment to back down now.

You roll your neck, taking a deep breath to calm your nerves, but pixies have already erupted in your stomach. You feel James’ stare burning into you.

“Mount your brooms.” Madam Hooch’s harsh tone cuts through the crowd, but you’re barely paying attention to her as you swing a leg over your broom handle.

The whistle pops into her mouth like usual, but in the split second before she blows with all the air in her lungs, you lock eyes with your boyfriend.

His red and gold robes billow behind him, confidence just rolling off of him. Dark and chaotic curls drift in the breeze.

He sends you a wink.

“Game on, love.”

•

All Character Taglist: @aspiringsloth20 @amourtentiaa @cherie-draco

For @lunalovecroft go check their blog out!

#lovecroftstropechallenge #James Potter #james potter x reader #james potter fanfiction #james potter imagine #james potter fluff #the marauders x reader

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sorry-i-ship-drarry · 3 years ago

Note

Prompts no 25, 27, 31 angst and non happy ending because I'm a little sad

The affair

Dialogue prompt 31- I want you to list every lie you ever told me.. then I'll forgive you | I hope whoever you are, you're doing better now. My apologies for bringing it out pretty late.

TW- ANGST | Harry loved him, only till fire burned.

Prompt 25 | prompt 27

It could have been love.

Or perhaps it was love until the arson had lasted and the land got buried in the ashes. Maybe it was love, until the fire remained burning, and the air had stated vanishing and soon it died.

He always knew he thought love was a transaction, to get something back in return for what you deposit in, he never believed in it but was Draco swooned. He let himself take the fall hoping that maybe harry would save him. He knew what he was getting into but too fooled was he to believe that love changes people, he held onto the false hope. He assumed, he believed in himself that maybe, just maybe after everything Harry had been through, after everything he fought for, maybe he'd like to not face change anymore. That maybe after everything, he deserved to be loved and deserve to love. That maybe he too felt that there was none who understood him better than Draco like he did, only he should've known.

But once learnt the hard way, draco didn't know how many loses more could he take. Maybe he felt as though he owed it to harry, that perhaps harry was his last shot at love, no matter what happened. Even with the ever consuming lies building up in the relationship that had been going on for 3 years. But Draco would lie to himself if he said he was happy anymore. He used to be, but he hadn't felt the little comfort in the physical affection or more than a chaste kiss in the past few months and he was afraid. Afraid that his inner voice was right.

" I think he's cheating on me " Draco numbly spoke to pansy as he drank his cold coffee

" oh hone-"

" I knew it " Draco interjected.

Pansy gave him a pity look but oh she knew too. She knew he was cheating. The lies Harry had fed only worked a little.

" how do you know ?" Pansy asked, holding a little of Draco's hand in a comforting touch over the table.

" he told me he'd be at the office yesterday. I went to drop him something but he wasn't there. He had left hours ago " Draco replied blankly stating at pansy drawing circles on the upper side of his hand

" but you can't be sure " pansy sighed.

Draco hummed, deciding to not further talk about it.

Perhaps days went by, Draco had stopped counting, he has stopped looking at the calender when their anniversary passed as a forgotten date. Perhaps weeks since Harry tried to come home and cuddle with Draco. And maybe month too when they last went on a date.

Why was Draco doing this to himself? Fear.

He watched as the light, the spark, the fire diminish in Harry's eyes for Draco but a new one was born each day he left for work, like he had something to look forward to. He felt it in Harry's soft light chaste touches that they weren't a secret, private anymore, they were of Someone else too. He even smelled the perfume of another one on Harry's shirt. Yet he rested in fear, fear he'd never be loved again. Because even if everything, harry still was his boyfriend, by tag but he was.. it was all in the labels. But He didn't even come to Draco's work party.

" why don't you leave him ?" Blaise had asked. Draco only shrugged, yawning.

" do you even sleep anymore?" Blaise tried asking again. Draco shrugged once again. He had lost count of hours he slept too.

But alone in the night, sitting on a bed in loneliness even with the body next to him, he cried relentlessly in silent sobs. He would bite his palm to keep the muffles inside as he'd stare at the man he'd once loved, become Lost. He missed the harry who'd kiss him before sleeping or who'd whisper good night or the one's who dragged draco to shower with him or the harry who'd visit between works to take him out for lunch.. he missed the harry that was only his own and not shared as a public property.

________________________

He sat alone on the table of a family dinner as his father for first In a while looked at Draco in pity sitting next to an empty chair, reserved for his love who never showed up.

" we should start. He must be stuck with something " Draco Whispered.

Narcissa hesitantly nodded, helping serve the dinner and the family ate in low Whispers and soft chews.

And then perhaps as if an old friend has knocked his door, Draco was met with the young boy who loved Harry in his rivalry,who stood for what was right, for what wasn't just to him, one who believed that if love existed he'd never settle for less. Slamming the door shut, Draco instead of disapparating, stumbled back home with one bottle of whiskey he couldn't even drink because of the drowning heart that yearned sobriety.

" where were you ?" Harry has asked sitting on the sofa, watching TV at midnight when draco had stumbled back home.

But draco didn't respond, placed the bottle on the counter top, only little drunk, unknown tears smeared across his face.

" I asked you a question Draco, where were you ?" Harry sternly asked as he turned around to watch Draco

" are you fucking drunk ?' harry was perhaps disgusted but it only made Draco laugh. A mock.

" do you ask your other boy that too ?"

" what- what other boy ?" But harry was a bad liar.

Draco sniffed in as he walked forwards, collapsed on the couch next to Harry's and stared blankly out of the window, tears immediately blurring his vision.

" it was my parents anniversary today? Do you remember ? I told you a day before yesterday to be there, even sent a memo ? Did you receive ?" Draco asked, his legs shaking.

" oh- see I kept thinking I was forgetting something. I'm so sorry babe-"

" don't-call-me-that" Draco sneered

" what is the matter with you ?" Harry asked thoroughly offended

But Draco only exhaled a shaky breath, his hands contributing to the shakiness and he finally landed his eyes upon the man he had lost.

" was I not enough ?" His voice broke as he asked, staring into Harry's lost face

" what are you even on about-"

" your affair harry. Your bloody affair " Draco raised his voice so as to be stern, confident that be wasn't lying.

" what ? I don't have any affair. I'm offended that you even think that Draco. After everything we've been through-"

"bullshit " Draco snapped

" you think I can't see it Harry ? I can sense it across an entire room if you're there or not, don't you think I wouldn't know that the man I loved is not just Mine anymore ?"

" you're being ridiculous " harry rolled his eyes.

Draco gave Harry a weak smile before he went on " do you remember the last time you told me you loved me ?"

Harry frowned as he thought upon until the realisation hit " i- I didn't realize -"

" I don't blame you " Draco shook his head " I can't even if I Want to. Perhaps I am infact not enough.. perhaps I've failed to be who you wanted me to be. I don't blame you harry, I don't-"

" Draco, there's nothing going-"

" what's his name ?" Draco interjected

" there's no one "

" does he make you happy ?" Draco asked weakly

" Draco, there isn't-"

" does he kiss better than I do ?" Draco asked, his voice breaking.

Harry sighed " I'm not cheating Draco "

" then when did you fall out of love with me ?" Draco asked

Harry stared at Draco long enough to see the pain turning to mocking numbness " I never did "

" liar " Draco sneered as he looked away, not even bringing his hands up to wipe his tears.

" I love you Draco-"

" liar " Draco suddenly raised his voice " you're a pathetic liar " he sobbed

" all this time I tried to forgive you in my head but I only need to ask one thing, what did I do to deserve this ?" Draco sobbed

Harry's face filled with pity as he closed distance between them to wipe Draco's tears away but he jerked his hands away.

" I didn't mean for it to happen " harry finally said as he looked down at his feets, as though he was disgusted in himself.

Draco looked at harry attentively " how long ?"

" Draco-"

" how long harry ?" Draco asked sniffing

" 5 months " harry replied. It should not have been a blow, not have hurt this bad, because Draco already knew but he did. Tears rapidly burning his face as pathetic sobs left his lips and he looked away as if he couldn't bear to look at harry.

" it meant nothing to me Draco-"

" it doesn't matter " Draco interjected, heaving for a long breath

" no I mean it Draco, it didn't mean anything "

" if it didn't mean anything then why were you with him tonight instead of me ?"

But in hopes of trying to fix things, harry couldn't formulate an answer without hurting Draco.

" I really loved you harry, I still do and I hate myself for it but I will let you go "

" Draco Don't-"

" I have loved you enough but in hopes of trying to keep you close, I have made you runaway from me and that's no one's but my own fault. Perhaps I loved you too much or too little but neither of it was enough to make you stay " Draco cried in silent tears.

" don't say that Draco. Please. I still love you. I never stopped. I'll leave him for you. I only love you. It was a mistake Draco. I promise it won't happen again. I'm sorry Draco, please, please forgive me " harry begged

Draco offered Harry a little smile before he took Harry's hands in how own, locking their finger's together and kissing his knuckles.

" I Want you to list every lie you ever told. Then maybe I'll forgive you "

And in that sweetness Draco left Harry more broken than he had ever felt. Filled with regret he had never felt. Pain he had long forgotten. Misery and sorrow he had said good-bye too. But it was in his sweetness harry had loved him and it was in his sweetness he had lost him. That night when Draco went away, with no response, he never came back again and harry was left alone.

It could have been love, or perhaps it was, only until the night was young and the sun had not risen.

Till the mortal fire had burnt.

It's basically midnight thoughts.

300 followers appreciation dialogue prompt requests open.

( ps. I reached 400 tho )

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foreignobjecticus · 2 years ago

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Full House (UK 1985) vagueish review that waffles on too long. TL;DR: Watch it if you like Christopher Strauli being a DARLING BABY, but otherwise you’re not missing much.

Watched this one for Christopher Strauli and he’s cute as all hell in it but the overall theme of the show is grating, bordering on unwatchably outdated. Series 1 is by far the best where they’re just establishing the characters and having vaguely odd-couple-like situations, whereas S2 is a bit of a transition phase to S3′s basically constant baby-themed episodes. While not unenjoyable, it got very same samey by mid-S2, with S3 being exactly what you’d predict, although it’s S2E1 that’s called Baby Talk, and from that episode on, the theme just grows.

Overall, the show’s INCREDIBLY dated in almost all of its dialogue, the character interplay, and visuals. Paul (Strauli) and his wife Marsha are the “proper” married couple, and Murray and Diana are the shacked up couple. Diana spends all of S1 trying to get Murray to marry her. 90% of conversations either revolve around staid marriage jokes (all of which are, of course, dripping in traditional roles of the time I suppose), or once they’re married, it’s immediately and constantly about having babies.

(Side note: apparently Strauli was 39 in this. No. Fucking. WAY. Whereas his wife was played by an actress who was 31? I have a feeling the IMDB is wrong. That can’t possibly be right.)

Anyway, my point is they’re portrayed as quite young couples, probably in their late 20s (unless it was said explicity, but I don’t recall so). Idk. Personally, as a person around their portrayed ages, watching them struggle to afford things and exist in a world that was, adjusted for XYZ, markedly more accessible than it is to people my age today, driven nothing short of blindly by rigid gender roles and nuclear family expectations... nearly nothing of the show is relatable to me as a modern audience member. Murray, the struggling artist, is the closest we get to someone resembling a modern relatable character, but he’s just as steeped in sexism, smoking, and a societally acceptable level of irresponsibility that I can’t bring myself to see him as all that much better than the others. And lastly, but by no means least, is the way in which the show reinforces all these “traditional” values with zero room or regard for the kind of change that was actually being seen at the time of writing and filming. The incident that stands out most to me is Marsha sitting down with her husband Paul and complaining about her boss feeling her up. She complains about sexual harrassment from her boss to her husband, and the only thing we get out of it is Paul very calmly asking if she’s complained and Marsha replying (paraphrased), “I can’t complain---some of the other girls like it!“ Cue laugh track.

At the end of the day, only Christopher Strauli made it for me. Without him, I wouldn’t have watched through to the end, and the only thing that got me to do S3 at all was the fact that the episodes are only approx. 24 mins long. I DID enjoy S1 because it had variety and wasn’t entirely about incredibly rigid gender roles, but overall it’s only a show I’d ever watch again if I wanted to get the characters in mind when reading or writing a fic. A fix-it fic. Definitely with an AV-stand in character like the single author for the fandom on AO3 has done (go check out the works! I won’t mention a name here but click here for the fandom list). I didn’t hate the show by any means---it is funny, and they do manage a good amount of jokes that don’t fall into the categories I’ve listed above, but overall it’s a comfort show comedy; it doesn’t challenge any of its contemporary issues at all, it doesn’t try to stand out in any way, and from everything else I’ve said above, it means it’s dug itself into this niche that’s aged terribly and (in my opinion) very likely alienated itself from modern audiences due to the way it maintains and reinforces strict gender norms, period-typical LGBTQIA+phobia (I didn’t mention the few episodes that cover the topic, but you can imagine the same old same old there), and fails to do anything that hasn’t been done better in other shows before or since. That being said, the main actors are decent overall, their personalities aren’t insufferable, the extras are generally quite good too, the sets reflect a decent budget, and the humour that hasn’t soured is quite amusing.

TL;DR: Watch it if you like Christopher Strauli being a DARLING BABY, but otherwise you’re not missing much.

(Fun fact: someone’s put 1830 stills up on IMDB for this show, which is SUPER impressive.)

#full house #full house UK #full house 1985 #christopher strauli #review #text tag

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ppersonna · 4 years ago

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planning forever - myg

↳ summary- you have special news to deliver to your husband, yoongi. and you find your inspiration to do so in a unique way.

↳ rating- PG

↳ pairing- min yoongi x reader

↳ word count-

↳ genre- fluff, oh my god the fluff

↳ warnings- mentions of sex, some swearing, min yoongi is D A D D Y

↳ a/n- happy birthday to @carly-bean-blog ! my sweet angel who has been with me through nearly my entire blog life. you’re so special to me! myself, @chimoona and @sombreboy wanted to do something special for you. together, we created your future ;). we hope you enjoy your day, sweet peony!

"You forgot your lunch.”

The voice of your husband, Yoongi, chuckles lightly through the phone in an amused tone.

“Shit,” you sigh, walking into work with arms packed full. Keys, your jacket, nametag, and an energy drink fumble in your grasp.

“Good thing you’re married to the nicest man in the world,” he goads. You roll your eyes, but he’s right. Min Yoongi is simply the sweetest, most kind man you’ve ever met. It’s why you married him.

“Hmm,” you tease as you shove your items into your locker, “Did I marry Namjoon?”

Yoongi grunts through the phone and it forces you to laugh.

“Not funny,” he sighs. You know he’s holding back laughter, maintaining his stoicism.

“I love you, Yoongi,” you smile. “My break is in about four hours.”

“I’ll bring it then. We can eat together.”

Your heart warms at the idea of sharing your simple sandwich and chip combo with the quiet man—the one who so easily captured your heart. You love that he’s willing to spend time during his day to sit at your boring job and eat lunch with you, all to make you happy.

“I’ll see you then.” The smile that's on your face nearly makes up for the fact that you have to suffer through a grueling eight-hour shift. Yoongi makes all the bad things in your life good. He takes those bad days and holds them tight in his arms until the bad melts away and you’re simply left with nothing but bliss.

“I love you.” He says it so easily, so much easier than when you first met him. Yoongi’s icy demeanor quickly melted after he spent time with you. Your infectious laughter, kind heart, and easy-going attitude had the man falling fast.

“I love you too, Yoongi.”

As you press ‘end’ on the phone, one hand drops to your stomach. You rub it idly. Consciously, you know it’s early and that you’re showing no signs of growing a life inside of you, but you can’t help but smile at the tiny fluttering in your belly.

---

Work goes by slower than you’d like. You’re excited at the idea of seeing Yoongi, but four hours suddenly seems too far away.

It’s as you’re arranging the new shipment of artisan, 100% organic cotton diapers that you’re forced to pause.

On the box of the far-too-expensive diapers, is the cutest baby model you’ve ever seen in your life.

You stare dumbly at the box for what feels like hours, unblinking as you take in the baby’s chubby cheeks and silly grin.

Maybe it’s the new pregnancy hormones coursing through your veins, or maybe this baby is sincerely so cute it’s making you cry—either way, tears slip down your face and a dumb, deliriously happy grin spreads across your face.

You’re pregnant. You’re going to have a baby with Yoongi. Maybe your baby won’t look like the tiny one on the display box, but it doesn’t matter. You’re going to have a child with the man of your dreams and you suddenly want the next eight months to go by faster.

The only problem that remains is, well, you haven’t told your husband.

It’s not like you two meant to get pregnant. You weren’t opposed to the idea but having sex was never with an end-goal of conception in mind. Yoongi wanted kids and assured you of that before you agreed to marry him. You both knew they would come at a time that felt right, when the universe and stars aligned.

And it appeared that they had. You noticed the symptoms a few weeks ago. Missed period, a little nauseated in the mornings, increased hormones. So, during a lunch break at work, you bought a pregnancy test and scurried to the staff bathrooms, only to come out with a positive reading and a grin on your face.

It wasn’t that you were scared to tell your husband. Frankly, you were far from it. You wanted to make sure the moment was just right. The pressure of telling your husband he was about to become a father was overwhelming. You couldn’t just tell him casually, as if discussing the weather. No, you wanted something more. And you agonized for weeks about how to make it happen.

But now, standing in front of the diaper section with tears pouring from your eyes, you throw any need of extravagant celebrations aside. Seize the day—it’ll happen at lunch and there’s no use backing out now.

The next fews hours creep by painfully. You take note of every ticking minute as it passes, practically hopping on your heels with excitement, waiting until you can pop the news. You finish stocking the nursery aisles with a happy heart and a smile on your face. You’re so engrossed in stocking shelves and running through the dialogue in your mind that you slowly lose track of time.

Hours pass and—

“_____,” Yoongi’s low voice bounces off the tall aisles behind you.

You turn on your heel and come face-to-face with the most familiar, welcoming pair of deep brown eyes.

“Baby,” you laugh, amused at how domestic he looks with both hands full of sack lunches like a father at a soccer game half-time.

He pulls off the look well. It reminds you why you fell in love with him in the first place. So kind and doting on those he loves most. Gosh, he’s going to make a great father.

“I knew I’d find you here,” he says with an eye-crinkling grin. “You love this department.”

“Love? I’m assigned to this department.” You close the distance with a small peck and tug your lunch from his hand. “But I guess you can say I have a fondness for it.”

He takes a step back and reclines in a nursing glider, motioning for you to join him in a neighboring seat.

“It’s the graveyard shift—do you think anyone will mind if we eat here?”

You look around the completely vacant store like a covert agent, then answer in a hushed tone. “For the time being, it looks like we’re off their radar. The coast is clear.”

“You’re an idiot,” he laughs, “I love you.”

“Love you too, rule breaker.”

It felt good to be bad in the most wholesome way in the most wholesome department of the entire store. Well, aside from the home decor section. Those fragrant eucalyptus candles and plush throw pillows in the shape of wild animals melts your heart to no end.

The two of you empty your bags into your laps and make small talk about your days. While you were toiling over the display case for Jessica Alba’s latest line of gluten-free, non GMO shampoo for thin baby hair, Yoongi watered the plants and did the dishes.

Real riveting stuff.

No, really, there is nothing sexier than a man who takes care of the home. It only makes you want to pop the news sooner, but the sandwich clutched in your hands makes for a less glamorous prop in your otherwise fairytale picture-perfect moment.

“Oh! I also did the laundry and folded it the way you like.”

“Bunched up and tossed in the drawer?”

He winks and points his finger at you. “That’s my girl—nothing gets past her.”

“Nothing does, nothing does…” You stare off blankly at the display behind Yoongi and notice a package of diapers is slightly askew. You begin to make a mental note to fix it later, but are abruptly snapped from your thoughts at Yoongi’s words—

“Nothing gets past me either, ______.” He sighs and reclines, belly full of sandwich. He closes his eyes and rests his head against clasped hands. “I know you’ve been keeping a secret from me, I can sense it like a bloodhound.”

With that, you pop the rest of the sandwich into your mouth and chew quickly. It seems the moment to savor has quickly evaporated and it was time to come clean.

“I wanted to tell you sooner, but—”

“—You got me that Pioneer DJ System for my birthday. I knew it! When I saw a purchase on our credit card for $500, I knew I caught you red-handed,” He looks at you for confirmation and assumes he’s right based on the reddish hue of your cheeks.

“You’re the idiot,” you snicker, nervously biting your lip between your teeth. “That wasn’t a DJ System, that was a crib.”

He holds up his finger in an AH-HA moment of victory, but pauses mid-celebration and looks at you with a crooked smile. “C-crib?”

“I’m pregnant, Yoongi.”

You can’t keep the butterflies from fluttering, seeing his face slowly shift from slightly amused to tear-dabbed and nearly shaking.

“You’re...you mean...we’re…” He stands from his seat and takes a knee beside you on your rocker and places his hand gently on your stomach.

“Yes,” you confirm through a strained voice, edging back tears of your own. “We’re having a baby.”

“This is, I mean,” He stammers and verbally struggles to come up with the right words to say that properly shows the multitude of emotions coursing through his body.

“Are you happy?” You ask despite the answer being written plainly on his face.

Of course he’s happy. It’s the happiest moment of his life and it’s all happening under the watchful gaze of a Peppa Pig cardboard cutout.

“Beyond,” he confirms, stroking your belly gently as if you were made of glass. “And excited, and scared.”

“Me too.”

“But mostly happy.” He strokes his hand through your hair and curls the loose strands behind your ear to place a soft kiss on your cheek. “God, I can’t wait to spend forever with you two.”

“Already? You haven’t even met the kid. What if he/she is a brat?”

“Too late, I love them already.”

You lean forward and kiss your husband, capturing his plush lips with your own. It’s warm and soft and reminds you of home.

“I love you,” you whisper, lips still touching his.

“I love you too,” he smiles, “Forever.”

#bts fluff #min yoongi #yoongi fluff #suga #suga fluff #bts fic #bts imagine #min yoongi fluff #bts sfw #agust d #agust d fluff #bts imagines #min yoongi imagines

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grabthemhorns-old · 4 years ago

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The brothers looking after you in pain - Obey Me! HC collab

Myself and one of my best friends Vic - faikittyy on twitter - wrote these together!

I did: Belphegor, Leviathan and Mammon and they did Lucifer, Satan, Asmodeus and Beelzebub.

We hope you enjoy them as much as we enjoyed writing them. We both suffer from chronic pain, so these are rather dear to us <3

Belphegor

This isn’t the first time he’s seen you suffer. But it’s different now. It’s through the eyes of love, and you’re his.

This isn’t the first time he’s felt helpless. But it’s different now. Now, it’s you, and you need him.

His acts were simple at first, methodical. As if reading from a list given to him by Beel. It almost was. He’d sought help from his twin, with quiet, humble words. “What do I do?” as you’d lain on his bed, your body wrapped around his pillow, indenting the soft down as you curled into yourself, whimpers of pain muffled.

Be there.

Beel’s defining advice rung through Belphie’s head as he knelt by your side, timid fingers clutching yours, willing you to hold tighter - as tight as you needed. It was all he could do at first, for he knew what his touch could do to you, and he was afraid if he touched you now, he would just rewind, and press play.

So he sat, until his legs were numb; until you woke up.

“Belphie.” That singular plea, it was enough.

He lies at your side now, asking you if you’re hungry, what’s your favourite Devildom flower, where would you like to visit next - inane distraction. He’s still afraid to touch you too much, but there’s a compromise. The delicacy of his tail tuft draws up and down your body as you sleep. And when you wake, it rests where it hurts, and you clutch the soft warmth against you, fingers weaving out the knots.

He doesn’t often struggle to sleep, but times like now when he does, watching you sleep is a comfort. And he talks to you, about things he won't. Words that can’t usually find form, do. And part of him wants you to wake up and hear. But he knows in time you will. For it’s not only you who’s recovering, as you lie side by side, fingers kissing.

Satan

Satan turns to distractions when things are difficult for him. He isn’t like his brothers. He didn’t fall from the Celestial Realm. He was never created to be his own person; he was created by what Lucifer rejected. There are times when it is all too much, when the unfortunate circumstances of his birth claw at his heart, when the hatred that was drawn from Lucifer’s veins and injected into his own fills him with a fury that can never be resolved. He struggles with it. He has a sense, sometimes, that the fires of rage he has tried so hard to put out will day burn him up from the inside. So he distracts—or avoids, some might say—thoughts of his tumultuous entry into the world and the wrath that wounds him if he allows himself to feel it too deeply.

But you can’t avoid your pain. He knows that. It is a physical part of you and is all-consuming at times, in the way that his anger is to him. The pounding in your head, the inflammation that freezes your joints, the stabs of electricity shooting through your abdomen… Whatever your pain may be, it is unavoidable.

So Satan distracts. He sits with his back to the wall, your head in his lap and a book in his hands. You close your eyes and concentrate on his reading aloud instead of the pain that constricts your chest and sends waves of nausea through you. His voice is like those waves, pitch rising and falling with the characters’ dialogue, but it is gentle and laps at your mind like the ocean surf at your toes. You can’t always follow the story; sometimes the pain makes it incomprehensible. But you can always hold onto his words, his voice, his presence. And for Satan, this—his ability to distract, to be there for you, to be needed—makes the pain of his birth and his anger worthwhile. He forgets he was born of hatred when he feels such love for you.

Levi

You’re half asleep, buried in blankets and plushies that Levi’s cushioned you with, when you feel him wrap around your back, so careful, so slow, his handheld that you were playing lazily together sitting on the sheets in-front of you. He pulls free your tangled hair.

“A-any better?” he asks, the words as careful as his touch.

You shake your head.

He’s quiet for a while. Longer than he wants to be, his tail perfectly still, but you feel his heart beat wild with worry. Helpless. Hopeless. Useless. That’s all he is.

“But I can cope when you’re here,” you whisper, moulding against his body. Levi’s tail curls to an O behind him at your words, and he lightly kisses your neck.

A wave of pain hits so hard it catches your breath, the nausea raw, and you claw, and claw, digging nails into your arm as you try and ride it out. You can feel Levi behind you, a small noise of worry touching your ear as he tries to find the words. But they’re stuck. He sees you scratch, nails pulling so hard at skin it breaks.

Levi almost breaks.

He whispers your name; he holds your shaking hand, and beside your arm, cool and smooth and steady, curls his tail.

“Use my tail instead,” he says, placing your hand on it, his words timid. “I know it’s not much, but I can take the pain. For you.”

He notices you’re clutching one of his priceless, ultra rare Ruri-chan pillows. It’s pressing an enchanted heat pad, eternally warm, against your pain. He pauses, wondering if you know how much that cushion means to him. But when you turn into his chest and smile for the first time in hours, aglow from the light of his phone, the only thing of meaning anymore, is you.

Lucifer

Lucifer worries about you more than the others do, even as he shows it less. He struggles with kind words—a consequence of keeping so many secrets inside for so long. But he does worry, over your health, your safety, urging you to take care of yourself with a gentleness that he has never allowed himself. Therein lies the difference, though; he is a demon, and you are a human. You are fragile. Breakable. He is scared—yes, scared—to even touch you when you are in pain, fearing that he might hurt you worse.

He has hurt you before, after all. He would not be surprised if you didn’t want his comfort at all.

It doesn’t stop him from wanting to offer you comfort, though. The sight of you looking so small and miserable, your body a tiny heap beneath your blankets, fills Lucifer with an emotion he cannot identify. Sadness, perhaps? Fear? Above all, a fierce protectiveness and gnawing helplessness. He is no stranger to pain himself, after all. The Celestial War left him with wounds that time will never heal. He knows how mind-numbing pain can be. How frustrating, when it feels as if it will never end. He tries to help you; he brings you teas from Barbatos, potions from Solomon, pills from the human world. And on days when none of the remedies work, when your pain still has you nearly in tears, he wonders, and he wants. He wants to help. To touch.

Until finally, he swallows down his fear, and asks if he can.

Yes, you whisper. Yes.

Lucifer transforms in a heartbeat. His wings, black as pitch, engulf you as he pulls you into his arms. Feathers brush lightly over your skin as he settles in with you against him. You rest your head on his chest and close your eyes with a sigh, grounding yourself in his touch. His fingers play in small circles on your skin, offering small comforts, and you accept them—accept him. You were always going to find peace in his arms. He never needed to be afraid.

Mammon

Mammon’s never been so quiet.

He doesn’t just see you in pain, he feels it too. He’s always held such strong empathy with those around him, especially with those he loves - really loves.

At first, he won’t leave you, forgetting his own needs for all of yours. He’s like a shadow, echoing your movements, making sure that anything you need, he’ll fulfill; anything you do, he’ll do instead. It’s endearing at first, and the consistent company helps distract you, but a part of you begins to worry for him. He still barely talks. But when he does, his stutter is more prominent, and there’s a pitch to his voice you’ve never heard before. You think it’s fear.

He’s careful when he gets closer to you, when he touches you. He’s never been reminded so keenly of your fragility - and mortality. It’s something he doesn’t like to visit, because if he does, he’s not sure how to come back.

As he gently ties back your hair, brushing it off your sticky face and neck, he wonders if you know that he’d give up everything - everything - to give an extra ten years to your lifespan, a year, a day.

“What can I do?” he asks.

“Relax, Mammon,” you smile, with closed eyes. You’re sure he smiles in kind.

And somehow, he does. He joins you on bed, and he holds you skin to skin, face to face. You fit against him as you listen to him breathing against your palms, pressed to chest. Then the soft rumble of his voice returns. He tells stories. Of him, of his brothers, of their early days in Devildom, and there’s even one from the Celestial. The image of him as an angel fills your head, and you wonder. But you don’t ask. It’s not time.

“Tell me what else I can do” he says, almost begging, as you wince in his arms, forehead touching chest.

But you just shake your head, and look up into his wide, worried blues, slow fingers tracing the slide of his jaw. “I couldn’t ask for more.”

Asmodeus

Asmodeus is often slow to notice when you’re in pain. It isn’t his fault, you remind yourself. He is the Avatar of Lust; he is the star at the center of his own galaxy. He shines so brightly it’s only natural that he would be blinded by his own light. It doesn’t make him uncaring. When he finally does notice, he feels terrible for not realizing it sooner. Sometimes, he hurts you accidentally. He is simply so full of affection that he can’t hold it in, so he is always jumping at you when he sees you, throwing his arms around you, nuzzling in against your skin. His body is propelled forward by a desire to be near, but he never means to hurt. So when you give a pained hiss and shove him away on instinct, his gaze turns almost immediately from wounded to worried. He fusses over you, never once listening to your insistences that you’re okay. He clicks his tongue at the dark circles beneath your eyes, scolds you for letting your pain keep you from getting your beauty sleep, and hauls you off to his room before you can say another word.

Clothes never stay on for long in Asmodeus’s room. He strips your shirt from you and eases you onto his bed, laying you on your stomach. You’re hit with the scent of lavender; then his practiced hands touch you. The moment his palms, soft and slick with lotion, meet the bare skin of your back, they’re all you can focus on. The pain is still there, still probing at the outer recesses of your mind, but his touch is there too, far more significant. His dexterous fingers play over your muscles, working out knots you didn’t even know you had, and you give an unintentional groan as your eyes flutter closed. You hear his bell-like laugh; you feel his breath hot on your ear as he leans over you and whispers suggestions of what he’ll do to you later to make you repeat the sound. But for now, he says, just lay still. Let him do what he does best. Let him take care of you.

Beelzebub

Beelzebub feels useless when you’re in pain. He doesn’t know what to do. It isn’t that he doesn’t understand the sensation; he does, all too well. The chasm of emptiness in his abdomen gnaws at him constantly, urges him to feed it lest it consume him whole. It is not mere hunger. It is a void at the core of his very being, a black hole that swallows up all he swallows down. But his problem has a simple solution: food. Even if eating does not cure the starvation completely, it dulls it for a short time. Makes it bearable. So the first time he finds you, balled up on the couch with your hair all amess and your eyes squeezed tightly shut, he asks himself what he would want, if he were you. The answer? Food. He decides right then: he will bring you his favorite custard, a panacea if there ever was one. It will help.

But it doesn’t. You take one look at the open cup, and your face turns green. You turn your head. You push him away. And suddenly food is no longer the answer, as the question shifts to become: what can he do, if the only thing that helps him hurts you?

Beelzebub leaves and returns empty handed. He sits gingerly beside you, his thoughts a mess. Useless. Useless. Still, he can’t bring himself to leave you alone, not even when his stomach growls its low complaint.

Good. You don’t want him to.

Beelzebub gives a quiet, startled sound as you shift to lean in against him. His arms go around you automatically, and you sigh. He is warm. The constant release of energy as his body burns through calories makes him feel like a blazing fire, his skin fever hot. Better than a heating pad. Better than a hot bath. Because it’s him. After a moment, he tugs you into his lap to encompass all of you in this warmth. And he realizes: maybe he is not so useless after all.

#obey me!#obey me shall we date #obey me lucifer #obey me belphegor #obey me mammon #obey me satan #obey me leviathan #obey me asmodeus #Obey me beelzebub #obey me headcanons #obey me hc #obey me fic #my writing #vic's writing #writing collab #obey me masters #chronic pain

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palimpsessed · 3 years ago

Text

Writerly Ephemera

I was tagged by @amywaterwings @mostlymaudlin @tea-brigade @effing-numpties @captain-aralias @bloodiedpixie . This is so cool, so thanks for sharing yours! ❤️

Per Amy: We add little bits of ourselves to our writing, scattering memories and places and phrases and things into our stories. The game is to find five examples of this, of YOU, in your writing and show everyone.

I don’t really feel like I put much of my own experiences into my fic, probably because I don’t feel like I have a lot of experiences to pull from. (That’s not me being self-deprecating; that’s me never going anywhere or doing anything.) So, let’s see what we come up with!

Going to tag here. I feel like I’ve gotten to this late so I’m not sure who has been tagged. Anyway. No pressure, loves. Just saying hi. 🥰 @theflyingpeach @bazzybelle @otherworldsivelivedin @unseelieseelie @wetheformidables @caitybug @nightimedreamersworld @foolofabookwyrm @stillmadaboutpetra

1. I have put the most of myself into A Man of Letters. I have my degree in English Lit and when I was in college, I was at the height of my Jane Austen obsession. So I sort of built my degree around the development of the English novel. My senior thesis was on a book called Evelina by Frances Burney, who was one of Austen’s greatest literary influences. Evelina is an epistolary novel—told entirely in letters. I love the epistolary form, for the same reason I love dialogue and texting fics. It’s such a fun narrative technique and can reveal so much about individual characters. It’s actually a bit like the way Rainbow Rowell uses multi POV in her books. Anyway, my love of the epistle was on full display in this fic, which is ofc told in letters. —Do I share a passage? That’s like...the whole fic 😅 So, idk. Here’s Simon being a disaster as he meditates on letter writing:

Dear Penny,

As I start this letter, I already know I'm not going to post it. I know I won't be able to bring myself to do it, because of what I have to say to you. I do feel bad. It's not that I don't want to tell you. And you know I'm so much better at writing things down than saying them out loud. It's only that I feel like this would all sound better coming from me in person. I just don't think I'll be able to make you understand in a letter. I'm still trying to understand myself. And writing all of this down helps me with that. Even if I'm only pretending to write to you, it makes me feel better, to think of you on the other end. I promise I really will tell you everything as soon as we're together again.

2. Also for A Man of Letters, my fascination with Regency fashions, in particular the dandy, was a major factor. I did an art book about this, comparing how fashion has changed over time, especially in regard to gender. (I also did an art book based on Evelina, since I’m on the subject. I minored in book art. 😁) I always fancied the look of a Regency dandy, so that was my gift to Baz.

Whoever has been working their magic on Salisbury should in fact be the person to whom I offer my eternal devotion. Alas, I am left to flounder under the burden of lusting after a man who is incapable of dressing himself.

The utter and unmitigated shame.

Salisbury wore a forest green wool frock coat that set off the golden highlights in his brown locks. This was accented with a green and aubergine striped silk waistcoat that was trimmed in white piping and felt much too daring a pattern for the man. (I don't care if he was a soldier; it takes a hardier man than him by half to choose a stripe like that.) His charcoal trousers were enticingly snug, but not so much to prove lethal. His cravat and points left much to be desired, though that likely reflected poorly on his ability to keep himself in order, rather than the ability of his valet. (Good God, maybe the man doesn't even have a valet!)

3. When it came to my countdown fic, To the Manor Borne, I had Shep make a reference to Cluedo, because Pitch Manor would be perfect for a real life game. Behind that, is the fact that my family played a lot of Clue and I watched the movie a whole bunch growing up, to the point where my sister and I used to quote it to each other. This was a way to pay homage to that. He also talks about playing the game Murder in the Dark, which was one I played at Halloween as a kid. One of my cousins was dressed as a ghoul with glow in the dark face paint and we were in my grandma’s creepy upstairs. Perfect vibes.

I’ve seen the kitchen and the dining room and the library and the study and the parlor. Walking through this house is like playing Clue. (They call it Cluedo on this side of the pond, because they like to be difficult.) (That was a whole thing. Do not get me started.)

I keep thinking Colonel Mustard’s going to pop up out of nowhere and brain me with a lead pipe.

And:

What kind of games do you play with magickal friends who don't have magic? Twister? Not with the wings and tail. Cards? Baz and Penny would cheat. Or accuse everyone else of cheating if they didn't win. Murder in the dark? With these people, in this house, I knew it would turn literal fast, and also it was like ten in the morning. Hide and seek? Simon and I would hide and everyone else would ditch. Snowball fight? World War III.

4. I’ve referenced Mozart in my fics a couple of times because when I was first getting into classical music, I was listening to a lot of Mozart. My sister had a CD of some of his early symphonies, and my local classical station does “Mozart in the Mornings” which happened to fit in the exact time slot between two morning classes I had my first year in college. I’d go sit in my car with a cup of tea, and just vibe with Mozart as my soundtrack. I’ve name dropped him in both A Man of Letters and To the Manor Borne. Also, Mozart wrote 12 variations on the melody shared by Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star, which is a lovely tie in. (I also had the gang sing/cast The Holly and the Ivy, which is one of my favorite Christmas carols, and by strange coincidence was playing on the radio at the same time I wrote that scene. 🥰)

"It's a songbook," I tell him, like he can't figure that out for himself. "Did you know that Mozart wrote twelve different versions of the same song?"

He's laughing. "Mozart did not write Twinkle, twinkle, little star, Simon."

"You know what I mean."

"He composed twelve variations for solo piano on the French folk melody Ah! Vous dirai-je, maman."

"Sure. Anyway, this is for the violin. For you to play."

He's still laughing, and I'm trying to figure out what's so funny, but then he kisses me again, on the lips this time, so I figure maybe I'm still doing okay.

Only one more to go! What will it be? 👀

5. Therapy! Eheheh...😅 Look, it’s no secret the gang needs it. And tbh, so do I. Haven’t actually managed to get myself to go yet, and I think that’s where a lot of my “send them to therapy” happy endings come from. I did it in Use Your Words and To the Manor Borne. I started Chamber by Chamber with SnowBaz already in therapy, and then structured the whole thing around therapy that they give to each other and to themselves. It didn’t really fit in A Man of Letters, but if it had, I absolutely would have done it. I’ve only shared from two fics so far, and since it could kind of spoil the ending to Use Your Words (tho saying this may be spoiler anyway...), here are two snippets from It’s a Kind of Magic, Part I of Chamber by Chamber.

I've been working on articulating my needs. We both have. Ordinarily, I'd be afraid of pushing him away by making demands when he's on the verge of a spiral, but my therapist insists that I can't go on treating Simon with kid gloves. If I never ask him for anything, he'll think he doesn't have anything to give.

And

When I told that to my therapist, she said that I needed to talk it out of me and she'd help me find ways to work through it all. She said I needed to talk it out with Baz, too, so that he'd know how to help me when things got bad again—that was something else she said, that things would get bad again, and that I'd need to be prepared for that. That I couldn't expect things to be easy, and just go away.

6. BONUS! I think the biggest way I include bits of myself is in the AUs I’ve chosen to write. I have three I’m planning that say a lot about me, so I’m going to talk a bit about them here. There is ofc my Scooby Doo AU, inspired in large part by the fact that I watched it all the time growing up and also, my sister continues to be obsessed with it. When we were young, my parents were doing a lot of work on their house and we’d take family trips to the hardware store. My sister and I hated it, so we’d wait in the car with my mom and she would entertain us with “Scooby Doo stories”. Other AUs I’m planning? Troop Beverly Hills—please tell me someone else out there loved this movie the way I did when I was 5. It was very influential to baby me and I remember wishing for nothing more than being able to dress like Shelley Long. So, I’m going to let Baz do it, because I think he deserves it. 🥰 Lastly, tho it will probably be the first I write, is my Cupid and Psyche AU, from when I was heavy into mythology and religion. Since these are all forthcoming projects, I don’t really have a snippet. Instead, here’s Baz comparing Simon to Eros, which is what started my brain on that particular AU.

I am lost. I barely know anything about Salisbury, but I can't help being drawn in. At one time, I could have comforted myself that I was only so smitten with him because he looks like he was sculpted by Praxiteles. That excuse grows weaker with every encounter. He's the furthest thing from a lifeless tribute to beauty in marble as one can be. There is something deep and dark and feral inside of him and I want to claw it out. I want to see it, to let it free. To taste his wildness and his pain.

#tag game #writerly ephemera

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qvid-pro-qvo · 4 years ago

Note

Hi, can you use #37 from 100 ways to say I love you, and use #2,3,35, and 56 from 75 random dialogue prompts with Hotch? If you can't do all of them, that's okay. Thank you! :)

aaron hotchner x gender neutral reader.

word count: 1386

rating: mature, for conversations with raised voices and realizations of what it could be like to live without someone (canon-typical mentions of violence, guns, and thankfulness for bulletproof vests. hurt/very little comfort).

Your hands are shaking, and you push through the haze of your mind to reach for your phone. You press ‘one’ on speed dial, and it rings. Once. Twice. Your hands are still shaking, so you put the phone on speaker and start pacing in your room.

“Hotchner.”

You can’t help your jump when he answers. Maybe he hears the hitch in your throat, but he doesn’t press. Doesn’t say anything else until you catch your breath.

“When’s our flight?” That’s what you finally ask him, after minutes on end with nothing more than your breath filling the space.

“Our flight?”

“Our flight home. Back to Virginia.”

You can’t hear his breathing, but you have a feeling he’s rubbing his forehead with his fingers. Maybe even heaving a deep sigh. You’re not stupid, you know what this looks like. You know what it sounds like. It sounds like a nightmare come to life.

But that was yesterday. This is today. This is the morning. More accurately, 4:30 AM.

“Hotch.”

“10:30.”

“Make it earlier.”

He sighs, and this time you can hear it. But you push on. “Make it earlier. You need to see a doctor, and we need to get home.”

“You know I can’t do that.”

Your frustration bleeds through your teeth. “Hotch –“

“I can’t –“

“Aaron, I swear to fucking God I’ll drive you there myself. I’m getting in a fucking car and I’m driving there, and there’s nothing you’ll be able to say about it because you’ll be tied up and in the damn backseat.”

That gets him. Gets him moving, you can tell by the rustle over the phone. To his credit, he doesn’t hang up. When you hear the knock on the door, and open it, you hear him behind you and in front of you.

No wonder he answered. Hell, he’s still in his fucking suit, the one he changed into after… everything. His tie is loose around his neck, and you glare at it like you glare at him.

“I’m not going to the doctor.”

“Says you.” You’re pissed, when you look at him, suddenly, because all you see are the bullets caught in his vest. He’s an idiot, he’s irredeemably stupid, in that moment, and you want to slap him. “We need to head home. Fly home before you get yourself almost killed. Again.”

He doesn’t say anything, but you let him push into your room. When the door closes behind him, he takes his jacket off, tosses it on the bed you’re using in the hotel.

“You want to talk about this?” he grounds out. “You really want to talk about this?”

“Yes. I do. Because something tells me that when you pull stupid shit like that, out there, you’re giving all the rest of us a middle finger, Aaron. You ever think about that?”

His sleeves are being rolled up, and you know he’s containing every bit of anger he has. “Well?”

“I don’t… dammit, I don’t risk my life without thinking about the consequences first,” he bites. It’s taking everything he has to keep his sentences short, to the point. You know it. He knows it. But you’re past that.

“Bullshit. There are moments you scare the hell outta me, and all I get to do is sit back and watch.” You step closer, poke a finger at his chest. “You got shot today, Aaron! You got shot at! And all you had to say after was ‘good work, team’?” You throw your hands up in the air, turn around to balance yourself against the wall.

He watches you turn, takes a step towards you. “I made a calculated decision. I did what the team needed me to do. I was acting as the Unit Chief and if you can’t handle that –“

“If I can’t handle that?! God, who the hell do you think I am? I’m not a first-year agent struggling to make it. I’m just – can’t I be worried about you without getting brushed off?”

There’s silence. It’s heavy. Thick. After a moment, you move to sit on the bed, next to his jacket, and he sits next to you, pushing the blazer up towards the pillows. He sits next to you, hands on his knees, and the two of you don’t look at each other, not for a long while.

“I’m sorry, but. I can’t guarantee that I won’t act without my own best interest in mine. Not if it means… not if it means making sure that the rest of that team is okay.” When he looks up, you can feel his gaze on your temple. “Not if it means that you’ll be okay. And… I understand, that if you need time away, or… can’t be on the team…”

You can’t help your chuckle. Hysterical, at that. “And what am I supposed to do if I lose you? Huh? The only person I’ve ever cared about like this? I don’t need your preservation, Aaron, let’s get that straight.”

Leave? Leave the team. Even now, even with how furious you are at him, it doesn’t even cross your mind. You’re with him. For now and forever. You take a couple of deep breaths. You haven’t said it out loud, yet, but it comes close to leaving your mouth before you take a deep breath again.

“Leave the damn team. God. Where is that coming from? I can’t – fuck, I can’t willingly or unwillingly bear to leave your side, Aaron, don’t you know that? And every time you throw caution to the wind, for a case, for a family, it hurts, but. You know I’m not leaving.”

He doesn’t speak. Just stares at you. You suppose you have tears in your eyes, but you’re not thinking about them, just letting them fall. “No, Aaron. I’m not leaving. You’ve got too much of a grip for that.”

It’s his turn to laugh. Raspy. Raw. “And you think it’s not the same for me? I couldn’t live without you.”

Your head shoots up, and you find your eyes meeting his endless ones. Unmatched depth, in those brown eyes, and something unreadable within. Something that’s slowly becoming clear, the longer you’re around him, the more you realize how much you –

Not now. Not now. Not when you’re still so mad, but even that is leaking from you as the night wears on, turns into early morning.

You’re mad. You are. But there’s so much more that you feel, and looking at him brings all of it to the forefront.

“God, can I kiss you?” you ask him. It’s out of nowhere and at the same time you know it’s what you have to say. Nothing else matters, and he sighs, offering you a little smile to pull the rest of the tension out of the room. It leaves nothing but exhaustion. He reaches out, hand moving to cup your cheek, then your neck. His hand’s so warm it feels like it’s scalding.

“Tomorrow.”

You raise a brow. It feels like something loosens in your chest. When he looks at you, touches you. “Tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow, when we land. We’re going to go home, go to bed. We’re… going to sleep. And when you wake up, you’ll call me.” His eyes don’t leave yours, and you find yourself leaning closer, even as he talks. It’s just to be close to him. To enjoy the feeling of what it means to be the only person in his world. Hell, he’s said as much. “You’ll call me, and I’ll be there. And I’ll kiss you, then.”

You laugh. Out loud. It’s the first time you’ve laughed in what feels like forever, after being on edge, after watching those shots hit him. “You seem sure.”

“I’m a profiler.”

“So am I.”

“Aren’t you sure? After everything?”

Yeah. You are. He pulls you close, grips you tight, and hugs you. You can’t think, and you don’t before wrapping your arms around him, before burying your face into his shoulder, his neck.

“Please… please don’t scare me like that ever again,” you whisper to him. “Don’t do that, don’t risk your life like it’s nothing.”

He stiffens, but you keep holding him, and if anything, tighten your grip. “It’s not nothing, Aaron. Please. You’re everything.”

He nods. It’s gentle, but you feel it. “Okay. For you.”

#prompt fill #aaron hotchner x reader #hotch x reader #aaron hotchner #gender neutral reader #my fic #hurt/comfort #canon-typical gun violence

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bts-ficrecs · 4 years ago

Note

Hi! Can you recommend a few Jungkook marriage fics please! Open to all genres. Thanks! ❤️

(header cr: guwoljk)

y’know this ask made me realize how rare married fics -- that aren’t drabbles -- are lol. outside of arranged marriage aus 😂

but no worries. i did find a good amount for you anon! thanks for this lovely request :”)

If anyone has any other husband!Jk fics that I didn’t include on this list, let me know!! (cause I need it too😂)

Sorry if this clogs your feed. idk why whenever I answer an ask, my “read more” is always stuck in the actual ask where i cannot edit it out at all

KEY: (☆) = arranged marriage / ( F ) = fluff / ( A ) = angst / ( S ) = smut

The Brat by obiwrites (F)

» Summary: It was now you and him against the world. There was just one thing…

Bunny Bigot by obiwrites (F)

» Summary: “Hey babe,” you call, startling the boy hunched down in a corner, “is there a reason you’re hiding in our closet?”

» Sequel: Baby Bun & The Little Gardener

Child's Play by obiwrites (F)

» Summary: Jungkook's always had a ... unique approach to parenting

Concealed Weapon by @gimmesumsuga (M)

» Summary: Jungkook turns out not to be quite who you thought he was, and your reaction takes you both by surprise.

Cloudy With a Chance of Meatballs by obiwrites (F)

» Summary: The plot of cloudy with a chance... but with Jungkook

» Sequel: Part 2

Desiderium by @jeonggukingdom (M)

» Summary: “We’ve been at it like rabbits, how are you still so horny?”

Home is Where You Are by @sweetbunnykook (F A)

» Summary: Madness and love grows from the same root in the Jeon family.

I Can’t Help Myself, I Don’t Want Anyone Else by obiwrites (F)

» Summary: A follow up piece to Just The Girl. A glimpse at the wedding, life after marriage and then some!

» More spinoffs: Life is Good (pregnant!OC) & The Kids Are Alright (1st day of school)

It’s Enough by @dark-muse-iris (A)

» Summary: Preparing dinner reminds you of all the struggles you’ve experienced in your marriage. Your husband Jungkook, ever your anchor, tries to cheer you up with gentle words.

Late Night Cravings by erifish14 (F)

» Summary: Imagine having a child with Jungkook

Meet the Jeon-Son’s by obiwrites (F A)

» Summary: The little girl studies your face for a long time, like she’s trying to put together the pieces of a puzzle that haven’t for a long time.

Stress Relief by @hobidreams (S)

» Summary: “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” “Kissing my wife?”

Sweater Weather by @bangtanstanst (F)

» Summary: When Jungkook comes back from a run and you have the audacity to laugh at his admittedly bad decision to go outside in the rain, he makes sure to take his revenge.

The Next by @kpopfanfictrash (F)

» Summary: No matter the fact that this is your fourth child, nor that every other pregnancy was fine – sitting in this seat, awaiting the news is always incredibly nerve-wracking. This is the moment you determine if your baby is healthy, or not.

Things You Said At 1 AM by @foreverpark (F M)

» Summary: More often than not, you spend around one to two hours in bed, watching the clock tick with the dialogue of a feel-good movie or drama keeping you company, waiting for your husband to come back from his never-ending dance practices.

After All Night by @btsracket (M)

» Summary: “Your mom has the baby so let’s make good use of the time.”

All in My Head by @fatrainbowmermaidunicorn (☆ F A)

» Summary: Jeon Jungkook’s wife. Something you have always wanted to be. Something you have always dream of. But it's something you know won't ever come true. Until today.

Always and Forever by @joonglows (F)

» Summary: From childhood friends to boyfriend and girlfriend, it’s time for an upgrade. Now, you are living a happily ever after with your dear husband, Jungkook, with three loving kids and one on it’s way.

Black Card by @minsprings (F A S)

» Summary: A long night at another one of your obligatory high society functions has you desperate to relieve some stress with your husband Jungkook, who’s been apparently hiding a kink from you for some time.

» Status: complete two-shot

Desperate Housewife by @kimnjss (M)

» Summary: Bored with your husband gone all the time, you decide to take up a new hobby… Jungkook can only seem to focus on one thing when it comes to your new pastime.

Fierce and Delicate by @mintseesaw (F A)

» Summary: Jungkook and y/n had been brought in two different worlds. Jungkook living an unfortunate life and y/n being controlled by her parents all her life. Despite the imperfect relationship, they completed each other like a puzzle there is. Jungkook has one promise he intends to keep: to always make you happy. In the process of fulfilling your wish he had once declined you of, he kept a secret from you. And unintentionally, he has done more damages than expected…Every action, and every decision… could be blamed by the flawed past.

» Sequel: Felicity (F A S)

From What Stars Have We Fallen to Meet Each Other Here by muhammie (☆ F A)

» Summary: Yoongi and Jungkook learn how to love in a marriage they never wanted to be in.

» Note: yes, this is mxm

Holiday Blunder by obiwrites (F A)

» Summary: The one where it’s the worst Thanksgiving in the world but your husband makes it mildly better.

Lumière by @taehyung-me-down (series) (☆ F A S)

» Status: ongoing series

» Summary: Fate has a way of bringing together two souls meant to be, but to a princess like you, soulmates are out of the question. As the sole heir of the throne, it is your duty to create a strong allegiance, one that will protect your reign. Your marriage with a prince from a neighboring kingdom was sealed from the moment you entered this world, two destinies intertwining. All you yearn for is a love that will ignite your soul. One that will have your head spinning in the clouds and your heart drowning in desire. Soulmates will meet, regardless of time, location, or circumstances, but it’s up to you. There’s one thing you must do. Seek the light, and find the love of a lifetime.

Mafia Arranged Marriage by @leahsockhead01 (☆ F A)

» Summary: You knew your parents had secrets but, you never realized they went as deep as the mafia. Your father was apparently a secret Consigliere. A “close friend” to the leader of Seoul’s mafia crime group. In order to officially blend your family into the mafia, you had been elected to marry the leader’s son. Upon meeting your betrothed, you run. Then something happens… to bring you back.

Money, Power, Respect by @minnpd (A S)

» Summary: You catch his eye the moment you walk through the door, low-cut dress doing its job like you knew it would.

Of Caresses And Promises by @ditttiii (F A S)

» Summary: You love your husband and you know that he loves you just as much, if not more. But sometimes, you can’t help but feel like he could do better—better than you.

Put Your Head on My Shoulder by koorara (F A S)

» Summary: You were worried to bring Jungkook along to your hometown and grandma has never met Jungkook, and yes, she is lovely but what if she suddenly doesn’t approve of him? That would break his heart.

Second Chances by @parkhabits (F A S)

» Summary: Work. One of the most important things to him. It kept him company at night, it was all he thought about, all he put his attention to. His work had become the mistress within your marriage. Years after you left him you’re back with only one goal in mind. Get him to sign the damn divorce papers. Yet you should’ve known that your husband wouldn’t let you go that easily.

Smitten by @megahwn (☆ F S)

» Summary: You live in a world where loving another is criminal. Partners are chosen by your elders to produce the best offspring and to help the economy thrive. Living in this world, you feel broken. You feel broken because you have accidentally fallen for your new husband, Jeon Jungkook.

Taking Chances by @neonlights92 (☆ F A S)

» Status: complete series

» Summary: “Jeon Jungkook is an asshole.”

The Pitter-Patter of the Heart by koorara (F)

» Status: ongoing series

» Summary: Pieces of newlywed domestic moments with Jungkook, your husband. The young Film and Literature lecturer and his wife, you, who works as a journalist of a web magazine. Both of you managing the career, the time for each other and the new house. Not to forget the cat that has been with you for years.

» Drabble: Valentine (S)

The Husband She Didn't Want by MyTime2Shine (☆ A S)

» Status: ongoing series

» Summary: Kim Mi Cha life was a miserable one since her mother had died at a young age. By 22 she was taking care of her alcoholic father who was often abusive to her. Her only respite would be when he'd leave her to go gamble as his addiction was getting out of control. She dreamed and believed in true love despite her upbringing. Her spoiled brat of a neighbor across the way from her was Jeon Jungkook. // Jeon Jungkook's life was happy and privileged one. He lived the life of a rich and only child to both of his parents who gave him whatever he wanted. Age at 23 Jungkook had become CEO Jeon Jungkook when his parents were killed in a car accident. He thought love was for the weak. His neighbor across the way from him was the shy and timid Kim Mi Cha. // Kim Mi Cha's father ends up at a poker game with CEO Jungkook and Jungkook ends up winning the game but the prize was Kim Mi Cha?

The Lie Untold by @54daysormore (☆ F A S)

» Status: complete series

» Summary: In a world where everyone has their secrets, Jung-Kook, young and naïve, wants nothing more than his marriage to a stranger to be open and honest. His new bride, young yet experienced, knows how many lies people tell every day, but hopes her new husband never sees through her own.

Untitled by @lamourche (F A)

» Summary: “I lost our baby”

Your First Time by @nitaescence (F S)

» Summary: Your child performs for the first time in the school's end of year show.

#bts fic recs #jungkook fan fic #jungkook fic recs #jungkook smut #husband jungkook #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #reposted cause tumblr is a binch #anon #g recs #g replies #f:jjk

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glitxhwayventeen · 3 years ago

Text

Ghostin

Seungkwan: Chapter 2 (A Little Bit Of Your Heart)

Characters: Seungkwan x female reader

Genre/Warnings: multi-member au (different scenarios), werewolf au, fantasy, angst (a shit ton of sadness honestly), semi-unrequited love, death mentions, implied genocide, runaway mates, family fighting, violence. Any others will be put as warnings when future chapters are thought up/written.

Author’s Note: Hi Friends! I recommend listening to Just A Little Bit of Your Heart by Ariana Grande. I think it sets a good mood to this chapter. Well not good mood, but it helps give you an idea of how I want you to feel towards the end f it.

Please remember that all of these chapters and the content within them are a work of fiction! They’re just for fun/entertainment!

Bold= Dialogue Italics= Thoughts

🥀

Ghostin Master List

Chapter 2: A Little Bit Of Your Heart

Over the next week, you continued to have nightmares about your past mate. Sometimes it was the memory of his dying, other times it was a completely unrealistic portrayal of terror with him leading the charge. Each time Seungkwan would dutifully come to your aide and hold your through your ordeal, kissing your head and rocking you back and forth like a baby. Sometimes, you’d lay your palm on him somewhere on his body and you’d suck him right into the dream you were having.

He couldn’t lie, seeing you so upset over another man was destroying him, but he loved you. He knew you’d eventually get over it, or at very least not be so upset over it. That’s what he kept telling himself anyway. But every dream he was thrown into with you made that thought dwindle more and more. He could see how much you loved your past mate still. Everytime you smiled at the other wolf, it broke something in him. Everytime you threw yourself into his arms and begged him to never let you go, he’d wake up the next morning, dart out the door and run into the nearby woods and cry until his throat bled.

He wasn’t like his brothers and how they were with their mates issues, he couldn’t keep up his brave face for long. He couldn’t help but let your past bother him. No matter how much he tried, it always affected him. He was just too emotional a person to have your situation not hurt him. He wanted your attention and love solely for himself. It was just his instincts.

He was never good at controlling them to begin with, but when you came around, what little self control he had went out the window. He couldn’t help but be jealous and angry. He couldn’t stop the tears that flowed down his face every night when he was holding you, hushing you back to sleep. He knew your heartache wasn’t for him. It was killing him. But he would NEVER let you know that. It wasn’t your fault this was happening anymore than it was his. He just wished you would see him rather than want your old partner.

His brothers were all very concerned for him. He was having trouble eating, sleeping, and just being his general happy little self. It was like he was a hollowed out shell. They wanted him happy, but they knew confronting him on it would just upset you, which would in turn, further hurt him. They knew it wasn’t really something you could control, they just wished that you two could get to your happily ever after already. You had started to notice how much of a toll you had taken on him too…

You woke up that morning in Seungkwan’s arms, a ritual to which you had become accustomed to. You felt safe with him, which you knew was probably only because of the mate pull, but you decided that you liked his naturally protective nature regardless. You had began to really enjoy being around him. He did everything he could to make you happy. He always made you laugh. He never let you say an unkind word about yourself. You had started to developed some very strong feelings for him. He was still out cold, he must’ve been exhausted trying to keep up with your horrible sleeping habits.

You nuzzled your nose into his bare chest and whimpered out, signaling to him that you wanted him to wake up. Of course, it worked and within seconds his precious eyes had shot open to check on you. The whites in them were dulled and their usual sparkle had lost their shine. You felt bad that you had done this to him, he looked so worn out that you couldn’t help but let another whine escape your lips. His hair was greasy and unkept, his skin was pale and the bags under his eyes had become prominent, even his voice had started to lose it’s cheery edge that you loved so much. You did this to him. And you absolutely hated yourself for it.

“What’s wrong baby? Is everything alright?” He quickly stated as he shook his head to wake himself up. Despite his tiredness, you were still the only thing he cared about.

“Y- Yeah, I’m okay. I just feel bad s’all” you mumbled against his hand that had found itself on your cheek as he looked at you with a great worry on his face.

“Why do you feel bad baby?” He questioned, bringing your face to his and giving you a gentle kiss on the forehead.

“That you’re suffering cause of me. I’m sorry” you spoke to him with watery eyes. Shit.

“I’m not suffering baby” Liar. He lied to you as he hushed you, laying his forehead against yours as he started to rub your temples softly., “I’m just a little tired is all.” Well, that one at least wasn’t a complete lie.

“Because I won’t let you sleep.” You finally sobbed out and threw your head in your hands.

“I’m sorry. I keep trying to stop. I- I keep trying to take him off my mind, it just- it just doesn’t work. I don’t now what to do! I’m so fucking sorry!” You wailed before he pulled you into his chest, rocking you back and forth like he had the previous night.

“Shhhh… It’s alright baby. I’m alright. You don’t need to worry about me alright. It’s my job to worry about and help you. And that’s exactly what I’ve been doing.” He tried to assure you, failing miserably.

“I’m supposed to care for you too. And I haven’t been. I’m sorry” you let the tears freely fall before Seungkwan used his thumbs to sweetly wipe them away and forced you to look up at him.

“Baby, look at me, I’m okay. I’m just a little tired. But I’ll be alright. It won’t be like this forever, just a little while longer, okay? You don’t need to waste your pretty little tears on me. I’m a big strong wolf. I can handle myself.” He said a little too confidently, causing you to let out a chuckle at his joke.

“See, there’s my girl. Now hurry up. Breakfast is gonna be ready any minute and if we’re not down there, we won’t be getting any.” He kissed your nose and jumped to his feet, grabbing one of his shirts on the floor in the process. He took your hand and pulled you up out of bed, making his way to his bedroom door and down the stairs to the kitchen.

The scene in front of you after you reached the bottom of the staircase caused a grin to appear on your lips. All the boys had gathered around the kitchen table and were conversing loudly with each other. You had missed being with a big family, it was nice that now, thanks to Seungkwan, you had one again.

“Morning guys!” Seungkwan chirped as he sat in an empty chair, grabbing you by your waist and pulling you to sit on his lap, making you blush slightly as you weren’t yet used to that type of PDA yet.

“Morning kids!” Mingyu chuckled aloud towards you both as he put Chan in a headlock, fighting for the last piece of bacon on the porcelain plate in front of them.

“How’d you sleep last night Seungkwan?”Jihoon questioned bluntly, his gaze going straight to Seungkwan, completely ignoring your existence.

It wasn’t unusual for him to do that, he was one of the wolves who were closest to your mate. And though he wanted his brother to be happy, he didn’t like the fact that you were still hung up on your old mate. So he gave you a bit of the cold shoulder whenever he could. You didn’t really mind. You understood his anger and thought he had every right to dislike you. The other boys didn’t like seeing their brother so torn up, but they didn’t blame you for it. Just Jihoon.

“We slept just fine, thanks!” Seungkwan put on a fake mile to answer the older wolf’s question, knowing full well that he meant to disclude you. He didn’t like Jihoon’s attitude toward you and he did whatever he could to show him that he wanted him to stop.

“I didn’t ask about BOTH of you, I asked about YOU. How did YOU sleep? Did she force you to stay up again?” Jihoon sneered out while scowling at you.

“Hyung, knock it off. She didn’t ‘force’ me to do anything. You know that. I stayed up because I WANTED to.” Seungkwan shot back, his grip on your waist tightening as he felt your heart beat speed up anxiously.

“Right.” Jihoon added, “because you just LOVE not sleeping for days on end.” He rolled his eyes before huffing, setting his eating utensil down with a loud clank sound.

“Would you back off already!” Seungkwan jolted up, setting you in his place on his chair before leaning over the table to get in the older boy’s face.

“She can’t help her nightmares! But you can help being an asshole!” He growls out, nostrils flaring and eyes turning red with anger.

Jihoon stood up from his chair, pushing it back with a loud screech before slamming his hands down onto the wood table. The noisy bang when he hit the table was enough to jolt you up from your chair.

“I’ll stop being an asshole when she stops playing with your feelings! All you want is Just A Little Bit Of Her Heart and she won’t give you anything more than exhaustion and heartbreak!” He yells out, chest puffing up and down with rage.

The other boys in the house had quickly gathered their mates and had taken them to their respective rooms, fearing for their safety in the event of a fight. All that remained in the kitchen with you three were the mateless Minghao, the nosey Soonyoung, and the Alpha Joshua.

You stood there in complete shock, not really knowing what to do. If you spoke up, you’d only make Jihoon’s anger toward you worse. But if you didn’t, your mate might attack him. Tears started rolling down your cheeks as you looked between the two arguing wolves. Seungkwan sensed your emotions through his anger and turned his eyes to you for a moment. He could see how much his brother’s words were affecting you, so he decided to get you out of there before things got worse.

“Joshua Hyung, can you please take (Y/N) back up to my room? She doesn’t need to deal with his bitchy attitude anymore than she has to!” Seungkwan snarled Jihoon’s way as he pleaded with the only Alpha available to get you out of the current situation.

You weren’t as helpless as the other mates, you were a wolf too, after all. You weren’t even scared of Jihoon, he was only a few inches taller than you in your human forms. In your wolf forms, you’d even be the bigger one out of the two of you. But everyone in the pack knew you didn’t like to fight. You’d rather get beaten bloody than potentially harm someone else with your strength, even if they had started it, you’d never continue it.

But Seungkwan was worried for you. Jihoon had, on occasion, started and finished some pretty gnarly fights. He didn’t want him to try and lunge at you. And he definitely didn’t want his brother to end up hurting you. He would protect you if he needed to, but he’d rather you be taken away from the situation to prevent it as much as possible.

Joshua nodded at your mate before he took your wrist in his hand and began to head towards the stairs to bring you back to your room. It was his job as Alpha to try and keep the peace, but his most urgent job right now was to make sure you, a mate, didn’t get hurt.

“Why would you try to send her away?? She needs to hear this! She should know what she puts you through everyday! She should know she’s killing you and that we’re all pissed at her for it!” Jihoon growls toward you, causing your mate’s fangs to slightly elongate at the older wolf as he did his best to keep his inner wolf from showing.

“Don’t you dare talk to her that way.” Seungkwan coldly said, moving to stand in front of your fleeting figure, blocking you from the older wolf’s view.

“My God! She could at least TRY to hide her pathetic little feelings for a dead guy when you’re around! But she doesn’t! Because she doesn’t love you like she loved him. Wake up Boo! She never has and she never will!” Jihoon jabs his pointer finger into your mate’s chest.

“Why can’t you fucking see through her stupid shit? She’s not worth you destroying yourself!” Jihoon screamed at his younger brother while staring up at the younger wolf, practically drilling holes into his eyes with the amount of fury he was exhausting.

Joshua had tried to pull you upstairs again once the two wolves had gotten closer to each other. The other boys in the room moving into position to prevent the arguing wolves from hurting each other, a sure fire sign that something was going to happen. But you managed to wiggle your arm from his grip. You jetted your way back to the center of the kitchen before you spoke up.

“He’s right Seungkwan, I’m not worth this! You shouldn’t have to destroy yourself for me. I’ll leave!” You jump in, causing all the boys to stop their snarling at each other and turn to you in shock. What?

“W- What did you just say?” Seungkwan whispered, barely audible.

He tried to step toward you with his hand going out to try and reach your arm, causing you to jerk your should backwards. The sadness on his face was enough to make you want to fall to your knees and cry, but you had to remain strong for this. You caused enough damage to their pack. You wanted the boys to all get along again, you wanted things to go back to normal for them, but most of all, you wanted Seungkwan to stop tearing himself apart because of you.

“I said I’ll leave. This isn’t fair to your pack, and it’s sure as shit not fair to you. I’m killing you, and you don’t deserve this.” You say weakly, trying your best to hold back your imminent tears.

“But- But you’re my mate… You- You can’t just leave me… I- I can die if if you go.” Seungkwan sobbed, streams of hot liquid cascading down his cheeks.

You stepped in front of him, quickly cupping his face with your small hand and smiling defeatedly.

“No. You won’t Seungkwan. You have a family who love you enough to tell you the harsh truth, they won’t let you die on them. They love you more than you could ever imagine, Trust me on that. I know you’ll be okay because you’d never leave them when they need you as much as they do. You’ll be okay. I need to leave so you can be happy again.” You speak with shimmering eyes, tears forming at your water lines at the thought of losing him.

Last time you lost a mate, you wanted to die. Hell, you tried to die, more times than you can count. But the thought of losing Seungkwan felt like you already were dead. Your heart felt like it had disappeared from your chest and the air had evaporated from your lungs. Every morsel of your soul ached. But you had to do this, you had to do this for him. He deserved better.

Seungkwan stood there quietly crying his eyes out as you held his fragile face. The boys frozen around him were but a distant memory as he looked into your eyes and tried to find something to say, anything to say, to try and make you stay with him. But all he could do was take the hand you had against his cheek in his and snuggle into it, trying his best to memorize the sensation with everything he had in him.

“Please…” He mustered out, looking at every inch of your beautiful face as if it were the last time he would ever see it. For all he knew, it was.

You moved onto your tippy toes and gave his lips a loving peck before moving yourself back down, a tear dropping down the side of your face in the process.

“Jihoon was wrong on something you know. I do love you Seungkwan, more than I’ll ever love anything in this world.” You let out a small laugh as he shook his head in disbelief, not wanting you to go.

You dropped your hand to his face and let it hit your side right as you made your way for the front door. You reached for the doorknob and turned, pulling it open before you stepped outside and closed it.

You looked back at the house with fondness before shifting into your wolf form and sprinting full speed into the deep forest, leaving Seungkwan and the other boys standing paralyzed with shock inside.

(Updated 8/7)

#seventeen #seventeen angst #seventeen au #seventeen fanfic #seventeen fluff #seventeen smut #svt au #seventeen x reader #boo seungkwan #svt seungkwan #seungkwan

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hetalia-nordic-trash · 4 years ago

Text

The Heart Gambit (Dennor): 4-Treat me like a Fool

Word count: 1,682

Summary: Mathias got hurt while he and Lukas were looking for Emil, so Lukas brings him back to his hotel room to patch him up a bit.

Author's Note: Finals are officially over!!! This means I can get back to doing weekly updates for both this story AND my original story on Wattpad (link at the end). I'm also thinking of starting a fanfic of Romano x Mexico OC but that would be like my 4th WIP so I don't think I'll start it any time soon unless there's a lot of interest in it for some reason. I have also come to the conclusion that I looovveee (and am way better at) writing dialogue! Much more than descriptions, unfortunately. I'm trying to get better but man it's hard! Anyways, hope you enjoy this part! Please interact and leave feedback! It goes such a long way!

Warning: Brief mention of injury

Previous: 3-One-Way Screen

Mathias kept his hand pressed to the cut on his head and watched eagerly as Lukas fiddled with the key to his room before finally throwing it open in a huff and stepping inside. Mathias hesitated, pondering the implications of being in another man's room.

"Don't just stand there! Hurry up before someone sees!" Lukas hissed. "I can't believe I'm even helping you."

"I think I figured that out the first 100 times you said that under your breath on the way here." Mathias stepped in and closed the door behind him. "Besides, you really should believe it considering who bit who."

Mathias sat on the bed, taking in the room around him. It was much simpler than he imagined. Two small beds were shoved up against the edge of the room, and the table had been away from the wall so that a chess board could be set up on it. The bed he was sitting on was still made, but the sheets were disturbed as if someone has been laying on it. The bed next to him was a bit more disheveled. It was piled high with books and yet another chessboard. Among the piles of books, a sweater and pants were neatly folded, waiting to be worn.

"Sorry for the mess."

"It's fine."

Lukas made his way to the bathroom.

"I think the first aid kit is in here. Let's make this quick so you can leave-"

A scream rang out for the bathroom. It was quickly followed by Lukas's and Mathias's. Lukas slammed the door shut.

"What the hell are you doing here!?" Lukas shouted.

"...my business..." the voice replied meekly.

"You're dead."

Mathias perked up.

"Woah! There you are, Emil! We were looking all over for you! To be honest, I kinda thought you were dead."

A small click came from the door.

"Yeah...I've kinda been here this whole time. I set you and Lukas up because he wouldn't stop talking about you!" Emil teased.

Lukas flushed red and desperately jiggled to the door handle.

"shut up shut up shut up..."

"For real! All day and night! 'I wonder what Mathias is thinking about! He's ruining the sport but there's just something about him I wanna- '"

"Alright!" Lukas shouted again. "Just pass me the first aid kit and you get to live for 15 more minutes."

Some shuffling was heard in the bathroom. A single bandaid was pushed through the space under the door. This was followed by a single strip of gauze, then a small pouch of antibiotics, then wet wipe, then-

"You are so difficult sometimes."

"That's a funny way of saying 'you're welcome!'"

Mathias chuckled, but couldn't shake the feeling of his heart pounding in his chest. Did Lukas really talk about him? Did he really spare him a thought aside from hatred? He placed his hand to his chest, trying to calm himself.

Lukas made his way over with a handful of first aid supplies.

"Alright. Let's get this over with," Lukas sighed.

He opened a wet wipe and stood before Mathias. Lukas placed one hand on Mathias's head, by his wound.

"This might sting a little."

Mathias was at a loss for a moment. The warmth from Lukas's hand radiated through his whole body. He clung to this feeling, desperately wanting to remember his touch.

"It's fine. I can handle it." he managed.

He winced as Lukas began to clean the wound.

"Sorry..."

"N-no it's fine."

Mathias wasn't sure if he meant to do this, but Lukas began running his fingers through Mathias's hair. Mathias felt his cheeks flushing.

"Hey...pass me the antibiotic cream,"

Mathias met Lukas's eyes. Lukas quickly looked away, but he could still see that his cheeks, and more cutely his nose were lightly dusted pink. Mathias smiled.

"Can you pass me the antibiotic cream? Unless you WANT an infection!" Lukas repeated, finally meeting Mathias's gaze.

"You're pink." Mathias commented, trying to sound confident.

"You're a dumbass."

"You're cute..."

Mathias knew he could be impulsive, but if he was any more impulsive than he already was, he would've chosen to throw himself out of the hotel window. How could he just say that!? OUTLOUD!?

Lukas turned bright red and scoffed, looking away from Mathias again.

"Just...hand me the cream already...before I personally give you an infection," Lukas muttered.

Mathias was a bit relieved that Lukas didn't slap him or spit in his open wound. He passed Lukas the cream.

"You don't have to do it for me you know... I can do it myself," Mathias said, weaker than he was expecting.

Lukas shook his head, and Mathias felt the cool cream being applied to his injury.

"It's fine. I don't mind really. I want to do it. Well... 'want' is a strong word..."

Lukas cleaned his hands and put the bandaid on Mathias's injury and placed his hand there. Mathias felt his heart skip a beat as he took Lukas's hand and pressed it to his cheek. He waited for Lukas to pull his hand away, but instead, he felt Lukas rub his thumb on his cheek.

Lukas slowly pulled his hand away, and stiffened, realizing what had just happened.

"Well...you can go now...don't let anyone see you leave," Lukas huffed, still bright pink. He grabbed a book, sat down, and immediately started reading.

Mathias got up and slowly made his way to the door. He was still reeling, but his heart ached to be close to Lukas again.

"Heh, you know, if you promise not to injure me again, you should meet me at the park again tomorrow morning,". Mathias watched his words very carefully, trying not to sound desperate.

Lukas buried his head deeper into his book.

"...fine. Tomorrow morning."

"Yes!" Mathias mouthed.

He peaked his head out to make sure the hallway was clear, and slipped out, closing the door behind him.

---

"Is he gone yet!?" Emil called from the bathroom.

Lukas slammed his book closed.

"Yes. He's gone."

The bathroom door swung open and rolled into bed.

"Great. Goodnight."

"Wait you're going to bed right now!?"

"Yes. It's late."

"Are we not going to talk about this?" Lukas asked, sitting at the foot of Lukas's bed and yanking the covers off him.

"Hey! Come on I was just getting comfortable!"

"I can't believe you tried to set me up with him!"

Emil sat up.

"You really can't believe it? He's all you ever talk about these days! I figured talking to him would get him out of your system, but here you are... talking about him... again." Emil replied, rolling his eyes.

Lukas blushed.

"I don't talk about him all the time!"

"Oh my g- YES YOU DO!" Emil cried, yanking the covers back.

"The past few months it's been the same pattern! Every interview, update, news headline with his name in it you feel inclined to talk about it! You always scoff and say 'he has so much potential' or 'why is he doing this' and it's been that way for God knows how long!"

Emil turned over onto his side and turned off the lamp on the nightstand beside him.

"He's the first thing you think of when you wake up, and the last name on your lips before you pass out onto a pile of books. Admit you love him already and let me go to sleep!"

Lukas felt as though he'd been shot through the chest. He'd avoided that word for so long, haphazardly replacing it mentally with 'appreciate' or even 'admire' on the good days. It couldn't be love. The feeling of running his hands through Mathias's hair, letting him hold his hand to his cheek...those were just...

Those weren't things acquaintances did.

"I. Don't. Love. Him." Lukas spat. "I don't love anyone. Except you but that's different."

He stood up and started pacing by his bed.

"I don't care how I act around him or how much I think of him. I don't love him! I don't love anyone and I never will because there are more important things than him! Even if I did, it doesn't matter because I don't really know him and I never did! I can't believe you'd think I'd be in love with him! I'd never even met him before this!"

"Just say you love him!"

"NO!"

"But you do!"

Lukas slammed his hands on the table.

"You're wrong! I don't love Mathias! I don't love anyone! And I never will! Because love is a waste of time!" Lukas shouted, quickly turning to wipe the hot tears that dripped down his cheeks.

Emil let out a long sigh and turned over in the bed.

"You know, Mathias really likes you. But if you want to push everyone away for a stupid game, then go ahead. And I hope you win so that I won't have to hear you complain about him this time next week since that's all you care about right? Winning?"

Lukas could barely speak with the lump in his throat. Everything he screamed at Emil was something he's said himself every day. Every day he'd tell himself not to be distracted, to not need anyone, to not have a beating heart in his chest. And it had worked so far, but Mathias... Mathias was different. How? He couldn't understand how Mathias made his heart beat a little more or how when Mathias took his hand his heart skipped a beat. It wasn't fair. He wished deep down that he could hate Mathias with every fiber of his being. He wished he didn't need anyone else in his life. He wished that his heart didn't beat a little more whenever he looked into Mathias's striking blue eyes. But most of all, he wished he would be spared from the heartache to come. Win or lose, he that they'd want nothing to do with each other after the match.

Lukas still felt the tears coming and did his best to wipe them away and take a deep breath.

"Goodnight Emil," Lukas managed.

"Goodnight nerd."

---

Next: Chapter: 5-Too Clever by Half

a/n: OOOoooohhh things are definitely starting to happen now! I’m going to take this time to plug my non-hetalia work “ Intro to Love ” about a college student who struggles to keep her superpowers a secret and while making new friends. How much of her normal life will she give up to save her friends from a mysterious villain that drains students’ brains and turns them into zombies? The complete Chapter 1 is out NOW AND so is Chapter 2.1-'The last of the Good Days'! Go read them! Right now! They're waiting for you!

Thanks again for reading! Send some feedback my way! Can’t wait to continue this story!

Quotev link: here

#hetalia #hetalia nordics #hetalia norway #hetalia denmark #hetalia dennor #hetalia icealnd #hws #hws nordics #hws denmark #hws norway #hws dennor #hws iceland #hws chess #chess #hws fanfiction #hetalia fanficition #denmark x norway #norway x denmark

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too-scared-to-do-this · 4 years ago

Text

Of the Devil’s head

Chapter seven - Fluffed-up parrots and thieves of all skills

Sander’s sides fanfiction

Wordcount: 1825

Ship: prinxiety (actually getting somewhere finally, people :D)

TW: mentions of illness, panic attack, some light fun-making of stuck up royalty, the Devil being his ‘evil’ self and making death-jokes - if I missed any tell me please :3

A note for all: Hey, sooo.... This is basically a looong conversation, because I let myself go and enjoyed writing what I like - which is dialogue mostly, so... I hope you don’t mind too much.

Summary of the whole story: They say, the one that wears the crown rules all - the living, the dead, the walking, the crawling, the rooted, the sane and the mad. They say, once you own the crown, you become the most powerful being on Earth and beyond. Roman’s stolen bigger things - a measly little crown won’t present a problem, even if he has to steel it straight off of the devils head!

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

Chapter seven - Fluffed-up parrots and thieves of all skills

“Why did you come here?”

Yes, indeed a very good question. And Roman had no good enough answer to it. Well, not good enough for the Devil, he though. So instead of the truth, he opted for the easier way out. Flirting.

“I already told you, your royal hotness.” he smirked at the king. “To steal your heart.”

Virgil had a lot to do not to react the way he felt like reacting. While on the outside just a slight dust of pink coated his cheeks - easily hid by the lighting of the place - on the inside he was falling apart and erroring, trying his best to come up with an answer. He was the Devil for Hades’ sake! He wasn’t supposed to react this way to a few flirty words!

Even if the stranger had a nice face structure. And beautiful wondering green eyes. And looked better in Virgil’s clothes then Virgil did himself (this last one has been bothering him since he stepped into his chamber and found the Human sprawled out on his bed).

He wasn’t supposed to be squealing like little girl over this Human being. He was the Devil, the head of Hell. And he was supposed to act like it.

So, he cleared his throat. He was not going down that easily. He leaned towards the thief. “Well, if that’s true, how do you plan on doing that?”

“I-ah...um…” that was not blush on Roman’s cheeks thank you very much! He wasn’t at all fazed by this idiotic demon. And to prove it, Roman spat the first thing that popped up in his head. “With my irresistible charm and good looks, obviously.”

Virgil snorted a little, watching the dramatic hand gestures the being displayed. It kind of reminded him of Remington (witch was a cause of big concern at best), but on them he found it somewhat… endearing.

“For a simple Human being you are very confident.”

“And why shouldn’t I be?” the thief grinned, already ready to preform the play of his life. “Just look at my gorgeous self! Who could resist this?”

“Exactly how many other fleshlings have you dated?”

“Um well… none - but that’s not what’s important! There was no one worthy enough of my awesomeness.”

The devil laughed again, flashing those sharp fangs at Roman,

“After all! I was the only one that managed to find the entrance to hell between all these fluffed-up parrots!”

“Fluffed-up parrots?”

“The princes!” the liveling explained. But when Virgil only razed an amused eyebrow questioning the thief’s judgement, Roman mouth almost fall open. With eyes wide and a big unbelieving grin, he started talking and gesturing animatedly again. “Oh, come on! Don’t tell me I’m not right! Have you seen any of them? With all their powdered faces, walking like there’s hot wire up their asses.”

“Hot wire? If they’d be true, they wouldn’t be walking, believe me. There’s a room for that kind of torture.”

“But I’m serious!” the Human jumped up, prancing around, mimicking the princes. “And their lips are always pushed together as if they ate a whole lemon or something! And oh my god-“

“Oh Hades, don’t mention that prick.” Virgil grumbled, rolling his eyes, but Roman didn’t seem to care.

“- that complete sense of superiority! It’s so awful! “I am prince Frogface. Look at me, I am so strong and handsome! I’ll bring you the crown, oh dearest King! Just look at me as I go into the woods and then come back empty handed!”

“So that’s why you came…” the Devil said calmly, lost in his own thoughts.

Roman immediately shut up. Somewhere in the conversation he forgot he was actually a prisoner and the creature he was talking to was the actual real-life Devil. His captor. The one that could kill him with a snap of his finger. Probably even would, for all Roman knows. Shit… he really messed up, didn’t he? “Y-yeah… I-“

The king waved his hand to dismiss their words. “I’m guessing your king wanted the all-mighty crown and the power that comes with it yada-yada.” he said rolling his eyes. “Yes, I know the story. Everybody wants the crown”

Somehow this didn’t surprise him. But he couldn’t deny the little disappointment he felt at their words. Oh well… Guess no creature would be dumb enough to actually fall for the Devil.

“So, you were the only one who found the entrance?” he raised an eyebrow, waiting for the other to continue.

Roman was expecting everything - anger, shouting, even flames (who knew what this thing was capable off) - but the last thing he expected was for the demon to sit calmly.

“Why… aren’t you more outraged?” the nervous thief asked, watching Virgil cautiously. “You’re supposed to be the big bad Devil! The embodiment of all evil! The Merciless blood-spiller.”

Virgil snorted - he hasn’t heard that one yet before.

“I just expected something more… I don’t know… evil? To come out of you?" Roman rambled, because what else was he supposed to do?

Virgil blew air out of his nose - which could be classified as a sort of ‘you’re such an idiot’ laugh. “Relax. It’s not like I’m gonna bite of you head.” he rolled his eyes. And they twinkled with a wicked idea. “Although… I could just-” he grinned, showing of his fangs - all thirty of them. Licked them just for the effect.

The thief shivered. He knew that momentary relief was just that - momentary.

Virgil leaned closer and closer, until Roman was completely flush against the supporting-beam’s stone. The Human closed his eyes, petrified.

And then he heard it. That complete and utter free laughter. He frowned looking back forward. And the Devil was literally laughing in his face. “Y-you humans are so naïve! I can’t- Why would you believe any of that?”

Roman and his offended noises didn’t much help the Devils laughing-cramp. “Ah, huh… okay…okay.. I’m - I’m calm now… please… hah… continue on. You were the only one who found the entrance?”

Roman pierced his lips and glared at the demon in front of him.

“You are evil.”

“Oh sweetie, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but you’re in Hell. Everybody’s evil.” Virgil smirked. “But go on. I’m curious.”

The thief’s angry expression didn’t hold up much longer and he pick up where he left off. “Yes, I was the only one it seems. I don’t know how those morons missed the signs. I mean - they were right there. in front of their big, up-turned noses. Oh, and by the way - you guys are idiots!”

Virgil blinked in surprise “What?”

“I mean it! How dumb can one be to need directions to their home!”

“I mean those aren’t really for u-”

As much as Virgil found the rambling of his prisoner endearing, this was getting a little too much.

“Like, you’re supposed to be these big smart canning demons and you need signs to get home.”

“Those-“

“Like, humans really have to rethink ow we view your kind-“

“Hey, fleshling!” the Devils stern voice finally cut through Romans flood of words. “Don’t tempt it.” he gave them a look.

“Iiiii’m shutting up now.” the thief nodded, biting on his lips. I really need to learn when shut my mouth…

“Good.”

Silence fall upon the two and believe me, it wouldn’t do it justice simply calling it ‘awkward’. Roman looked everywhere but at the king. And Virgil sat, thinking about ways to break the silence.

And then something popped up in his head! “Why did you want that crown anyways?”

“Oh, that!” Roman grabbed onto the offered string as greedily as a thirsty man for water. He rubbed his neck somewhat ashamed. “It’s not me who wants it. Our King has decided he wants to rule all and promised a really nice reward for it. And I could really use that money…”

Virgil tilted his head. He didn’t know the Human standards of living, but this being seemed a little too torn up to him from the beginning. His curiosity was spiked. “Why?”

“Well… My mother is really ill and- oh shit! How long have I been down here?!”

“Am… a-about a day in human time?” the complete and utter fear that for once weren’t cause by Virgil, took him by surprise.

“A day and a half?!” Roman jumped up again, looking around for the way back. “I-I have to get back. I have to go!”

The demon watched him. “I’m afraid I can’t let you…”

“No, you don’t understand! My mother is dying! If I don’t get back she’ll-“ Ro’s lips quivered. “And god knows King won’t give a shit about a poor old woman! I have to get back home!”

Their breathing was becoming shallow. Their movements frantic and rigid. They were shaking.

Virgil knew those signs all too well… He slowly stood up, keeping his eyes at the slowly panicking being. “Hey, come on look at me.”

Roman didn’t do that. Instead, his eyes finally found the entrance and his he was so ready to just bolt out of there, but Virgil reached him first, grabbing his wrist.

That didn’t doo much good, because the other froze up completely, breathing worsening. The Devil didn’t think this true… But he had to do something!

He turned them around and looked them directly in the eye talking calmly and clearly (of course, that wasn’t the case on the inside). “Look. I can’t let you out. But! I can send some healers to your house. There’s not a disease those demons aren’t capable of healing. I can promise you, she’ll be in good hands.”

Roman blinked at him. he tried to speak, but somehow words didn’t come.

“Now, though, I need you to breath. Okay?”

He tried, he really did, but he kept tearing up in the middle of a breath and failing at slowing them down.

That is, until the demon in front of him started counting. He found himself listening to those simple numbers repeating over and over again until somehow his breathing adjusted to it.

He didn’t even notice when he went down to the ground. Not even when he ended up holding both of those black-nail clad hands in a death grip. But the Devil didn’t seem fazed. He just kept on counting until Romans breathing finally evened out.

He was so tired. And still shaking. He just wanted to close his eyes and sleep.

But his mother-

“Let’s go find the healers and tell them where to go.” Virgil gave a small smile and stood up, holding a hand out to the Human.

If this was a joke, it was the cruelest one of all. Being kind and helpful then pulling the rug from under his feet. That’d be cruel even for the Devil. Nobody deserves to be played like that.

Roman really hoped this wasn’t a cruel joke…

And he took that hand.

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

I’m not sure if this is what you were waiting for, but this is what I have to offer XD

I myself really enjoy when a story centers around the main characters and shows of the dynamic between them. Not much happened in this chapter, but they talked a bit and I got more comfortable with how I write them together and individually - you could say I got to know them more.

So... I hope you liked it :3

And as always, questions are really appreciated :)

Tag list:

@romano-hottopic

@vpow

@alice-only-me

#of the devil's head #Virgil the king of hell #Roman the thief #prinxiety #ts virgil #ts roman #roman sanders #virgil sanders #anxiety sanders #creativity sanders #thomas sanders #Sander's sides #what else should I tag?

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dialovers-translations · 4 years ago

Text

Diabolik Lovers GRAND EDITION for Switch ;; More, Blood ー Yuma Dark [Epilogue]

Monologue

ーー The way to survive in a world which has lost all order.

Is to first and foremost band together as a group.

No matter how strong or how clever you may be,

if your opponent outnumbers you by just the slightest margin,

you have no shot at winning.

That is most likely the reason why,

the more rowdy the city, the larger the number of gangs.

And in this city as well,

the gangs which had been formed by groups of orphansーー

they would call them ‘teams’,

and there were several of them.

Lucks was the Boss who kept together,

one of the top teams of the city,

and also the person who picked me up,

after I was left for dead in a back-alley.

One day, one week, one month.

The more time I spent together with him,

the more I began to realize just how amazing he truly was.

He was obviously skilled in battle,

but also oddly intelligent for someone who lived in the slums,

as well did he excel in leadership and decision-making.

On top of that, he had a strong sense of justice and a caring heart.

It was only obvious that many people gathered,

around such an ideal-seeming leader.

Including myself as well,

Boss therefore had many henchman under his wing.

He would even look out for those henchmen’s followers.

There was simply no way that someone with such principles,

could let a person starve to death.

Thanks to Boss,

we got a serving of bread and fruit once every day.

However, the number of us henchmen,

was by no means small. Regardless,

how did Boss manage to provide,

this much food for us?

The amount was simply too much to achieve through theft.

I found this odd.

ー The scene starts with a flashback in the city

Lucks: Here you go, Bear. This is today’s share.

Bear: ...Say, how do you get your hands on this food?

Lucks: Haah? You’re worried about that sorta stuff?

Bear: I’m glad you’re feeding us. However, I’m worried you might be getting yourself involved with dangerous business...

Lucks: Seems like you still don’t quite understand. Not a single thing is risk-free in this city.

Bear: Thenーー

Lucks: But you know, that is nothing for you to worry about.

That’s my duty as a Boss. All you need to do is sit there and munch on your bread.

Bear: ...

*TIMESKIP*

Bear: ( Sometimes Boss disappears without a word... )

( If I find out how he acquires the food, I might be able to help out as well. )

( I owe Boss big time. So I want to help him in every way I can. )

Lucks: ...Ugh...

*Thud*

Bear: ...! B-Boss!?

Oi, Boss! Hang in there! Why are you this...?

Lucks: ...Bear...Is that you? You found me at the worst possible time...

*Rustle*

Bear: ( There’s chafes all over his body...? )

...! Boss, don’t tell me...

Lucks: ...If possible, I would have liked to keep this a secret from you. Despite your rough personality, you are still innocent after all (1)...

The people who give me money...They all treat me like some kind of slave...However, I don’t plan on selling off my heart or soul.

No matter how much money they offer, or how much they control me...I will never belong to anyone.

Even quasi-livestock like me still has a pride left...

ー The flashback ends as the scene shifts to the infirmary

Yuma: ...

A livestock’s pride, huh...?

Yui: ...Nn...

Yuma: Pretty cheeky of ya to repeat his exact same words, huh? Right, Sow...?

*Rustle*

Reinhart: How is she doing?

Yuma: Aahn? Fuck off. Can’t ya tell? She’s snoozin’.

Reinhart: Oh my, you’re right. That being said, she seemed to be suffering from pretty severe anemia...Do you have any clue what might have happened?

Yuma: Beats me! Why do ya ask me? It’s damn annoyin’.

Reinhart: Why, you ask? ...Aren’t you her boyfriend?

Yuma: Boyfriend? Hah! That’s the best joke I’ve ever heard.

Reinhart: Oh, you’re not? I figured that was the case seeing as you were carrying her in your arms as you brought her in.

Yuma: That’s not her role. She’s just part of a ‘means’. ...One to fulfill my ambition, that is.

Reinhart: Your ambition? Are you talking about your dreams for the future? I’m impressed you’ve already got that figured out at your age! What kind of dream is it?

Yuma: Che, shut up. Didn’t ya hear me when I said you’re damn annoyin’!?

Reinhart: Ah, come on. If you shout like thaーー

*Rustle*

Yui: Nn...

Reinhart: See? You woke her up. Good morning, Komori-san. How are you feeling?

Yui: Sensei and...Yuma-kun...?

( ...Right. I was about to fall over from anemia, when Yuma-kun stepped in and... )

( ...My memory is failing me. I must have lost consciousness at some point after he sucked my blood a second time... )

Uhm, right now it’s...?

Reinhart: Fourth period is almost over. You slept soundly.

Yui: That long...?

Yuma: Ya slept way too long just ‘cause you’re runnin’ a lil’ low on blood!

Yui: S-Sorry...

Reinhart: Watch your mouth, Yuma-kun! That’s not a very nice way to put it? Being kind to women should be the basic rule of any man, no?

Yuma: Kind? Hah, you’ve got to be kidding me. She’s not worth that sorta treatment.

Yui: ( I’m nothing but a toy in Yuma-kun’s eyes after all...There’s no way he would be kind to me. )

( ...But, he did bring me to the infirmary after I had lost consciousness. I should be grateful for that, right? )

( Although he is the reason this happened in the first place though... )

Reinhart: Hmm, your complexion is still a little pale. Are you anemic after all?

Right now you are only showing light symptoms, but if it gets more severe, please go to the hospital.

Well, you kids are still young, so for now focus on eating good, nutritious meals, okay?

Yui: Yes. Thank you very much.

Reinhart: Well then, I’ll be on my way to the staff room but if you still feel unwell, you can rest here. What about you, Yuma-kun?

Yuma: Aah? If she remains here, I obviously will as well.

Reinhart: Fufu, you must be really worried about her.

Yui ( No way he’s worried, he just wants to keep an eye on me... )

Reinhart: I’ll leave you in her care then. Ah, do you remember what I said earlier? You have to be kind toーー

Yuma: Shut yer fuckin’ mouth! Go already!!

Reinhart: Ahaha, good luck then!

Yui: ( Sensei’s amazing, he can just laugh it off when Yuma-kun snaps at him. )

Yuma-kun, are you sure you shouldn’t go? To class.

Yuma: ...Aah?

Yui: ( Uwah, he’s in a foul mood...I probably shouldn’t say anything unnecessary now... )

Yuma: Geez...From havin’ to carry ya ‘round, gettin’ hindered by that damn NEET to dealin’ with that nosy Teacher...Today seriously sucked big time.

It’s all ‘cause ya collapsed on me. Take some responsibility, Sow.

Yui: ...! N-No more blood today, okay!?

( I feel like I’ll be in serious trouble if he sucks me yet another time! )

Yuma: I’ve fed off ya twice and ya already reached yer limit? It’s ‘cause you’re so damn tiny.

...Che, guess it can’t be helped. It won’t be delicious if I suck ya when you’re already all shriveled.

Then just rest up here until school’s over. I get to skip classes as well. Gotta watch ya after all. I won’t have Ruki scold me afterwards.

Yui: The whole time...Until after class? I’ve actually come to school, so I’d like to at least attend final period...

Yuma: Don’t be complainin’! I’m tellin’ ya to rest so get to sleep!!

Yui: F-Fine...! I understand, so please don’t yell like that.

Yuma: ...Che, look at ya twitchin’ in fear. Nn...

Yui: ( Ah, those sugar cubes again...He brings those with him even to school. Just how much does he like them? )

( Well, but...Despite everything he says, he’ll stay here with me the whole time, right? Even if he just wants to skip class. )

( Perhaps Yuma-kun is just the slightest bit worried about me as well. )

( I should probably thank him at least? )

ー Yuma moves closer

Yui: Say, Yuma-kun. Thaーー Nguh!?

*Rustle*

–> If you are playing the Limited V edition or the Grand Edition, little black roses will appear on the screen. If you click on them, you get an extra line of dialogue.

“Don’t make a fuss. Keep still.”

“...Aah? What? You’re curious ‘bout Sugar-chan?”

“Che...! Geez, this bed is too damn small...They should change it to somethin’ a lil’ more fittin’ for someone my size!”

Yui: ...!?

Yuma: Nn...Come on, eat it. Don’t ya dare spit it out.

Yui: ( It’s sweet...Is this sugar he’s forcing inside my mouth...!? )

Yuma: Ya should feel grateful. I’m sharin’ my cute lil’ Sugar-chan with someone like ya after all...

Yui: ...Nn...

Yuma: Come on, I’ll make an exception and add in one more.

Yui: ( My mouth’s full...! How many will he stuff inside...!? )

Nn...Phew...Nn...

Yuma: Hah...Ya swallowed them all, right?

Yui: ( Is it from the...sweetness of the sugar? For some reason, I feel strange... )

Yuma: How’s that? Delicious, right?

Eat some good food like this to get yer blood runnin’ again, then lemme suck it as soon as possible. ...Understood?

If even livestock has a pride, ya shouldn’t throw in the towel over somethin’ like this.

Show me some guts...

Yui: ( I doubt sugar cubes will provide much nutrition though... )

( ...But, he might be worrying about me in his own way. )

( I wonder if he has this side to him because he was once human...? )

ーー TO BE CONTINUED ーー

Translation notes

(1) The term 擦れる or ‘sureru’ usually means something like ‘to become worn out’ or ‘to chafe’, but it can also mean ‘to lose one’s innocence’.

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