#that we agreed on. my reward for not only sleeping early yesterday but sleeping BEFORE 12 AM TOO!!! is two netherite tools :D | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

donutloverxo · 3 years ago

Text

A Royal Scandal 3

Modern Royal King!Steve au

(Image from Pinterest)

cowritten with @lizzygal

Note - There will be no taglists for this. You can subscribe to the ao3 story to receive updates!

Please note that my stories are not to be stolen or reposted on any other site. Reblogs are welcome. This blog and this story is 18+. Do not read, follow or interact if you are not 18+.

Summary - Modern ruler, His Majesty King Steven G Rogers, is on a quest to make his long term secret relationship the real thing. He is a man in love and wants his lover and partner to be his queen.

Warnings - Smut (m/f), dub con/non con, sex tape, scandals, mentions of past domestic abuse, soft dark Steve, possessive Steve, spanking, power imbalance, mentions of previous domestic abuse, somnophilia.

Pairing - King!Steve x reader

Word count - 7k

Story masterlist

Sometimes Steven forgot that you weren’t that much younger than him. He forgot about a lot of things when it was only the two of you. You did that to him. You made him forget things that everyone else reminded him of constantly, intentional and not.

Early that morning was no different.

Long before his alarm went off, Steve found himself on his side watching you sleep. Feeling in every way equal to you, like there was not this huge ocean of things that he did not have in common with you, opposed to what the two of you shared.

Obviously, he was the son of kings and tyrants while you were the daughter of immigrants and a blue-collar family. You’d grown up in a house full of love and kindness and acceptance, he had not. You’d ended your teenage years going to college and then travelling and ending up here, where you chose to stay and work and travel and live a life that Steve could only dream of, his own had never been his own and never would be.

You had dreams and hopes, little things like aspirations. He didn’t.

Steve’s life was dictated by things like duty and obligations, expectations. Yours was not.

Maybe that was why he’d been so drawn to you?

Compared to all the royals around Europe and titled individuals, politicians, even old families, none of them interested him even a fraction of the amount that you interested him. To Steve you were exotic. You were a fascinating creature who might as well have come from Mars.

He couldn’t even say what it was or why.

For so long it had felt right to be alone. Considering the blood of monsters ran through his veins, Steve had been uninterested in any sort of companionship more than a brief encounter at a private location.

For Christ’s sake, he refused to sleep in the bedroom that his father had slept in.

Upon assuming the throne, he’d selected to take up older quarters in an unused part of the palace living complex. As if to ensure he was as far away from the rooms that his father and grandfather and great-grandfather had slept. Choosing to sleep in a bed untainted by any of those men, stored from when his land was ruled by an emperor. Hoping with the hopes of a young king that it would save him from their madness.

Beside him, you slept so peacefully, trustingly.

Steve had never brought anyone into his private apartment. Nor had his bed seen any carnal action since it’d gone into storage. Until you. He’d simply never been so inclined.

A rough sound from the growth on his cheek rubbing against his pillow. A pleasant reminder of that night that felt so long ago, yet also like only yesterday.

He’d had a beard back then he remembered.

A full bushy one.

One that had made you laugh softly at, roll your eyes and still manage to pull off an acceptable bow when you greeted him that late night.

“They beat Canada then Your Majesty?” You had inquired with good nature, setting down a whole stack of papers and folders onto the very modern conference table in a big room that could fit two dozen, more if the people were standing.

He’d beamed.

Steve remembered he’d been in a particularly good mood that night. Even if he was working late on the education push into the outer regions of his kingdom. A good amount was still very rural, many simple villages that lived as they had fifty or more years ago. Many parts of his kingdom were still deeply rooted in the past.

“Indeed. Eleven to four.”

He was beaming. Beaming! You were pretty sure you could see molars. It made you shake your head and begin to sort out all your work into piles to go over. Not that you’d ever admit to secretly being caught up in the hype of the team being so close to gold at the Winter Olympics. “So then the beard stays?”

“You of all people,” he admonished, coming over to help you. Picking up the well-marked up maps you’d spent hours annotating.

Making you roll your eyes.

On he went though, obviously needing to drive home the seriousness of this matter. “The beard stays until we win gold. Next we play Norway. I don’t think it needs to be said that we cannot risk it.”

He was serious. Really serious. If that full glorious beard was any indication.

More focused on the organizing task yourself.

Sorting your work by region, pile by pile, each had taken much work and effort and negotiation, endless phone calls and trips and emails to each area to get them to work not only with you, but one another. It was like herding cats. It had taken you months to get this all sorted out for Steve to see. His ideas weren’t even ready to be implemented. This was just the pre-gaming, the leadup, the work in preparation. You weren’t even on Step One. You were on Step Zero.

“Now that I know, I’ll be sure to grow a beard next Winter Olympics.”

And then you were rewarded with a rich hearty laugh from your king.

Well not your king, as you weren’t a citizen of this country. But you still liked to think of him as your king.

Watching you sleep was something he’d never tire of. Never get enough of. It was a luxury that he didn’t realize he wanted day in out.

The ability to wake up with you tangled up in blankets. Curled back against his front. Hogging pillows as you did. Allowing Steve to run his fingers up and down your bare thigh, along the curves of your body. Letting him lean forward to press his lips to your shoulder and see the peaceful rest of your face in his slowly lightening bedroom. Every last inch of you here for him.

Hungry.

That was what it was, he was hungry for you. Like a big bear that woke from hibernation after a long winter. At times he felt such a way. Never having felt this way about anyone prior.

In his own time, he slipped his fingers down along the round of your ass underneath the flesh of your hip. Warm. Soft. Smooth. Neither of you had left the bed since the late night bath in his tub.

Further down Steve allowed his fingers to trail.

Memorizing every last second to get him through his day. From how you felt pressed against the front of him, how your back moved against his chest with every steady breath you took. The way your legs tangled in his buttery sheets with his own, how the soft cheeks of your bottom pressed against his alert groin.

Most definitely though, how your skin tasted and felt beneath his mouth. Smelling like yourself from all your favorite bath products kept in his bathroom.

You’d smelled so good that night too.

You always smelled good.

It was something that he had noticed but hadn’t given any real thought to.

It seemed to be a mix of perfume and body lotion or cream. Cause Steve found the flowery smell would linger after you walked by in the way that perfume did, infusing the air and making his brain scream out that you were near. But also, when you shook his hand, it always had that sweet fresh clean smell afterwards.

Now, whenever Steve smelled it, all he could think about was you.

Those smells danced around him. Making the late hour bearable. Making the fact that the offices were empty but for the two of you, when you both should have been home in bed, not matter.

“Ok…” you were talking to him, pointing out places on the massive map that was his nation. Arms crossed. Legs spread. Standing beside you as you informed him with tones that indicated your happiness, your displeasure as well as your utter irritation. “…so I managed to get in touch with every Education Department in all nine of your territories.”

Though you were not looking at him, Steve nodded, laser focused on this project he’d tasked you with months ago.

“All of the department heads are on board with your desired overhaul to completely modernize the entire system. Unfortunately, they told me that I had to call all the district heads for all forty-six provinces to get their agreed participation too.”

Your tone went from pleased with yourself then skeptical and then annoyed.

You turned your head to look at him. “Which is what I spent the last three months doing. It was something of a thing.”

Steve could only imagine.

He was quiet though so you could go on. More than pleased with how well you worked in this position. He’d originally been skeptical with your being a foreigner. How dedicated would you be to a job in a country that was not your own? One hundred percent as it turned out.

Your hands flattened out dramatically on the table. Outrage surged from you. “I’m still waiting on two appointees because their predecessors apparently died during harvest season and no one could be bothered to replace the position. I literally had to fly out to the outer reaches of civilization to find this out. Cause all the government offices are closed during harvest season, fyi. But they’re literally filling the positions now.”

Such was the challenge of having a large kingdom with one foot in the future and one in the past. Such things led to the difficultly of keeping a Chief of Staff.

Steve’s previous Chief of Staff had come highly recommended and lasted a little over a month.

Whether it was from a lack of dedication, the obvious frustrations of the job or maybe he simply had not wanted to jump on a plane and fly six hours then ride by car five hours to remote areas in order to complete his work. Steve could not be sure. All he knew for sure was he’d keep you as long as humanly possible.

In his eyes, you were a saint.

“What’s with the question mark?”

Making you look to see which question mark you’d marked on the map full of stickers and marks and tabs. Hours had been spent working on the damn thing.

Seeing which question mark in question made your nose scrunch. “Oh…them, they refuse to even answer my calls until they are allowed to take their traditional name for their province. Which is way above my pay grade. Someone else is going to have to deal with them. I tried.”

Ah, Steve nodded, that was far from surprising. The far outer regions were notoriously independent or rebellious, depending on your stance.

He would deal with them accordingly. Not how his father did, but in his own way.

Steve’s attention was drawn to two nearby provinces. Each had a frowny face sticker. Without asking, he merely pointed.

A noise of pure disgusted frustration came from deep in your throat. Making you stand and look to him, brandishing your hands in all directions. “I tried my best with them. I really did. Both of those provinces absolutely refuse to take part in anything if the other is involved. Apparently, they’re still salty at one another over something that happened in fourteen-seventy-three and refer to me as the foreign she-devil. So…good luck with them Your Majesty.”

Soundly you slept.

Comfortable. Safe. At peace.

Making him feel like a true man. A provider able to care for you, protect you, satisfy you. As if he were stripped down to what nature intended. Instead of what society had dictated for you both.

Reaching down to that heavenly place between the V in your thighs, Steve pushed his fingers further to find your softness slippery, your skin slick with viscous arousal. In pushing his finger up further, running it around the edge of your slit to where the gateway to your body was hidden, he found you heavily aroused. Coating his fingers with a thick fluid that promised you would be able to take him now. Oozing into the cervices between his fingers and smearing thickly down his palm and over the back of his hand.

Unable to help himself, he brought his hand out from between your legs in order to look at your arousal. Merely the sight made his balls clench in eager anticipation. Tasting the bodily excretions had his hips moving against yours on their own.

A noise came from you. Though you were far from waking. Always one to enjoy your sleep.

On his tongue you were heady, ripe. Tasting like sin. Steve licked his fingers. Eyes closed so he could savor the taste, how you clung to his tongue and were thick, like a burst of brandy swirling with his saliva.

Awakened now from his deep sleep. Ravenous like a beast of the forest. He pressed a lingering kiss to your shoulder. Making you mumble. Making you wiggle in your sleep, causing you to reach your arm out for a pillow to pull close. Hooking your leg up higher too. Becoming more comfortable in the bed in addition to opening yourself up more to your king. As if your body had connected to his on a level your mind was unaware and encouraged him to take you.

Down he peered. Strands of hair fell across his forehead at the harsh angle. A soft lightening of the sun through drapes he never closed last night allowed the sight of moisture. Folds of bare skin sheened up at him. Tempting him with that webbing of goo that promised him you were ready.

Taking himself in hand, he caught sight of your name curled over his side. Reminding him of your absolute possession over him. Sending his hand low to pull his foreskin back in order to feed this hunger of you that consumed him.

Your signature was all swoops and swirls.

Recognizable above anyone else’s writing he came across on a daily basis.

All over paper and on the maps. In little corners. Highlighted. In different color pens. On stickie notes. Written on napkins or on the back of random pieces of paper.

At the time, he’d had no idea how far gone he really was.

Not even when he watched you take note after note with a purple inked pen, your hand flowing across paper like a swimmer cutting through the water. Taking down his every word, every command.

A incredibly distinctive feeling of being full woke you up from your glorious sleep, in a very singular sort of way that could be from only one thing. Only one thing on earth felt like that when waking you up.

Pulling you out of a warm blissful sleep only to wake you with the exquisite feeling of being stretched open, pushed into, filled up. Making your fingers clench bedding or pillows or whatever they could grab.

A low breathy moan came from you in the time between you were woken and awake, your face burrowing in a pillow was followed by a soft profanity. Weight slowly covered you. Weight pinned you down to the bed a little at a time. Skin and sheets and soft dustings of hair rubbed against you.

Only when you had fully woken did you feel pubes brush against your cheeks. A light tap of scrotum bumped you too.

Long arms wrapped around you. Wet lips mouthed along the curve of your neck.

This was a far superior way to wake up. Compared to your apartment, in bed alone, to your neighbors loud shrilling alarm clock through your paper-thin wall.

Groaning out at the feel of His Majesty’s cock stuffed safely up in your secret garden. You found yourself whining at Steve at whatever time it was in the early morning. “…fuuuuck…what’d I say about doing that…” A swivel, nay, a swivel with a pop of his pelvis followed, making you see stars, gasp deeply as if you’d been stabbed in the lungs and then add on for God and Country. “…My King…shit, My King…oh shit, My King.”

Though it may have been said in jest, his tone was hot enough to scald. “If memory serves me correctly…” another deep push of thick hips shoved you forward into the pillows. “…you say, not in my ass unless I’m awake.”

Stars.

So many bright and colorful stars.

Mmm.

Yes, that was something you had told him on many occasions and it still held very true. If Steve was going to put anything in your ass, forget that thing he claimed was a dick, you needed to be fully awake so you could both physically and emotionally prepare yourself.

Nothing at all could have prepared you for the drastic turn your life was about to take that night.

Nothing.

Everything had been so normal. It was so regular. Like many a long night working late hours at the palace before. Hours had been spent going over all your hard work contacting each and every head in each education department per province, as well as per territory. In addition to the national department of education, preparing to prep them for what the king wanted.

Like any other late night, Steve helped you put all of your paperwork back in the correct order you had it in. Like every other time, he requested a palace car take you to your apartment. Granted the apartment you shared with your best friend was walking distance away. It was late and simply not safe and you found were touched that Steve would think about your well-being.

For a king, he wasn’t that bad. When it was the two of you anyway.

Looks aside, which he had in spades, he could be very funny in a sarcastic sort of way. He was very well read and intelligent, quick on his feet. Although people seemed to think of him a certain type of way based on his father and his own kingship at a young age, when he really was his own person.

You’d noticed he had a definite interest in the classical masters and had on rare occasion seen him sketch out something on a flight or during a less than stimulating event. He had an artistic ability that would never come to anything due to his role.

His strong sense of duty paired with a disgusting moral obligation pretty much guaranteed his life would be spent in service to his country. Period.

You could see why people thought he was hot. The man had been blessed by the genetic gods. Plus he was a king. Who didn’t grow up dreaming about being a princess? Or think about a literal Prince Charming from fairy tales?

Having now had the benefit of working in a real life palace. You knew the realities of that fantasy.

You had two pages of notes that could attest to the reality of your childhood Disney Princess movies.

Reality was always so different.

Not for the first time, you found yourself repeating yourself. “…and let me say one more time. Thank you so much for talking with my parents. I know it was only ten minutes, but, I know how busy you are and it just completely topped off their visit. My mother has been telling everyone about how she met the king. You even have my father cheering for the hockey team.”

A smile came over Steve’s face that was real.

It wasn’t one of his practiced smiles. It was an actual smile. You could tell because it reached his eyes.

“Well,” Steve answered you with a shrug, sounding genuinely pleased even if he also sounded tired and like he wanted nothing more than to go off to his living quarters in the palace and crash into bed, before he had to get up to start a new day. Helping you stack the last of your papers up. “Anything to convert a soul to hockey. Technically, it is his team too.” And because he could not help himself, Steve added on, “Even if his grandparents fled from here for a cushy life in the west.”

Up your hand flew to your chest.

Your jaw dropped in mock pain. “Ouch, Sir! That one was painful.”

His smile grew at your over-the-top reaction.

Still though, he dipped his head and you noticed there was a little blush on his cheeks above where that magnificent beard grew. Chagrined, he quickly followed up with, “I apologize. That was a cheap shot.”

In a physical sort of way that his people were known to interact, personal space be damned, Steve reached over to touch your arm apologetically. Not something he did frequently. Although he had done it a handful of times. The press of his mouth to your cheek was new. The little kiss was brand new. Steve’s lips were gentle on your skin. His beard tickled your face.

Never in your life had your heart pounded as violently in your chest as it did at that gesture. Quickly, your head turned. Though you did not move back or say anything. Instead, you found yourself staring at Steve. Looking into those pools of blue that were looking at you with the same amount of surprise that you felt. His lips were right there, right there.

Blood roared in your ears, your heart pounded faster and faster and faster.

He kissed you.

Did he really though?

Was it a kiss or was it a kiss?

For a moment in time, you leaned in. Leaned closer. Leaned till you almost touched him because that was what your body wanted to do. Until you remembered that Steve was a king. A KING. Remembering that made your head command your body to lean backwards a bit. Allowing you to see that he had leant in to meet you.

He’d leaned closer to kiss you.

What were you doing? What in the hell were you doing? You had no business doing this, no business at all messing around with Steve.

Fingers moved along your arm, tracing up the back of it softly. That simple touch made goosebumps break out over your skin. It made your breath hitch. Your hands began to shake so you grabbed the fabric of your skirt.

However, you made no move to step away from Steve. Nor did he make any sort of move to step away from you.

Another attempt at a kiss was not made.

Fingers touched your face instead. Steve was close enough to you that you felt his legs brush yours. You felt his breath against your face. Fingertips ran across the swell of your cheekbone, down over your lips, tracing the bridge of your nose in what felt like a desire to memorize your face.

Steve was gentle. His fingertips felt like feathers on your skin. He made you shake like a leaf in terror because you wanted him to touch you more. You wanted to be touched. You wanted to feel his hands on you and the soft glide of his thumb along the line of your jaw was painfully insufficient.

Without thinking, you reached up with your hands until you remembered that he was the king.

Were you allowed to touch the king? You weren’t sure. He was touching you and it was fabulous but were you allowed to do the same? You wanted to. You so deeply wanted to. You just were not sure what was allowed in this situation. It had not exactly been covered in the Royal Protocol Guidebook you had.

Then came Steve’s voice. Harsh. Gravelly. Desperate.

“Touch me. It’s ok. I want you to.”

For only a heartbeat or two you remained still, observing him, making sure. Only after that did you reach up with your hands to cover his wrists. Rub along the fabric of his button-up shirt. In doing so, you not only felt the strength in his well-muscled wrists, or how warm the silky fabric was, but, you could feel him tremble. He was shaking about as much as you were.

A rush of air surged from his lungs as if you had burnt him.

Curious, you turned your head so you could place a single kiss on the inside of his hand touching your face, right at the base of his thumb. In doing so, you ripped a noise from deep within him. A noise that was both pained while also infused with wanting.

“This is ok?”

“Yes,” he croaked out, as if he were terrified you would stop.

Never would you have ever imagined he would be so responsive. Almost touch starved it felt.

Sometimes, Steve still felt as if he were a little touch starved to you. Sometimes it felt like he’d gone his entire life without having that physical connection between two people. As complicated of a man as he was with as complicated of a life as he had, you at times forgot that he was still a human being with human being needs that were essential to thriving.

And it wasn’t like you were complaining.

Far from it.

Not after the orgasm you just had, not from on top of him either. Lounged across the front of him. Loose limbed. Languid down to your marrow. Peppering the damp skin of his neck with slow wet kisses and scrapes of teeth. Long drags of your tongue collected drops of salt that tasted of him. Lazily. Heart to heart. Stomach to stomach.

There really were worse ways to wake up.

Like, for instance, in your apartment taking cold showers cause the building’s water heater was ancient. That wasn’t fun at all and usually had you shivering and hurrying through an icy shower. Straight up not a good time.

This? This was soooo much better.

Feeling Steve’s long legs wrapped up in your own, paired with his softening member filling you by virtue of sheer size not letting himself just pop out…this was a much better way to wake up. Far superior in every way.

Not that you were willing to waste precious time like this luxuriating in post-coital bliss. No, no. A burning question was hot on your mind that kept popping up after last night. After all, you were a modern woman and this was a serious relationship. You had every right to ask this question at any time you wanted. Even now. As your boyfriend, the king, fondled your breasts in his hands with such intensity that you would have thought he’d just broken out of Alcatraz after a decade of no nookie. Not that you were in the least bit complaining. Not one bit.

“Am I going to have to quit my job?”

It was something of a concern.

You loved your job. You loved working with Steve. You loved your life as it was and a big part of you suspected becoming queen would mean big changes.

Not that you lifted your head from his neck, or ceased your trek down towards his collarbone. Trail of your kisses never slowing or stopping. No hint of any sort of disruption came. Not for a moment or two. Not till your ravenous boyfriend squeezed your breasts possessively. Thumbed your nipples and finally opened his eyes, as if it were the biggest chore on earth.

His voice was rough. His tone felt like hot gooey honey that just got everywhere. “No…not yet…”

Leading you to make a noise. A pop followed when your mouth left the dark spot you’d been sucking on nearly at his collarbone. What with your name already etched on him. What else could you leave in a display of ownership over him? “Nothing else to add My King?” For added emphasis, perhaps you gave you vaginal muscles a clench knowing what that did to him.

A grunt came from beneath you.

Wrapped up in yours, Steve’s legs clenched in response to what you did. White teeth sank into his upper lip and you absolutely thrived at the sight and feel of him arching up against you, shifting around beneath you at the way your body squeezed him.

Those hands left your breasts only to reach down, run over your waist as they had so many times before, leading you to grab them. Snatch then right up. Press them down into the mattress over Steve’s head. Since the man was far larger than you, this sent you leaning downwards and ever closer to his face. “Steve? I asked you a question.”

How easy it would have been for him to get free. Yet, he seemed content where he found himself. Still wedged within you. Warm in bed. Body a sea of a complex cocktail of chemicals after physically releasing into you. A far better way to wake up than alone in a massive bed. Or worse, to his mother jabbing at him to urgently tell him something that was not urgent at all.

Feeling your breasts press against his chest. Lightly brushing over his skin, your nipples little points that sparked a definite interest in his dick.

God did he want you to be his queen.

“Not yet,” Steve ground out, nearly close to being overwhelmed by you. Each and every word was enunciated to utter perfection, as if it took all of his concentration and effort to get them out. “I’ll have the palace leave your name out of the official statement today. We can go slow. Ease you into things…ease you out of your job…” and to reward him for such a thoughtful statement, you clenched around him once more.

However, it seemed, there was more and even though his eyes rolled up into his head at the feel of your core squeezing his not entirely soft organ, he pushed on with the determination of his ancestors. Grunting. Arching back into the bed as the pillows had all wound up on the floor. Perfect teeth clenched together. “M-my people…will…love you…too.”

So, it was entirely possible, that you were feeling all kinds of powerful watching him writhe beneath you. Knowing exactly what sort of repercussions this could have to your morning. Which was still progressing on time. It was entirely possible that you may have intentionally pushed your own pelvis against his to reseat yourself.

“Oh yeah? How can you be so sure? You saw what happened with those two over in England. And that prince isn’t even next in line to the throne.”

Perhaps it was the seriousness of the direction in which your conversation had taken, Steve remained beneath you. Taking no action, even though you could quite literally feel his dick grow more interested in what your hips were doing.

A panted out, “…fuck…” escaped from him, before he opened his eyes to look at you seriously, if not also a little heatedly. “Quit obsessing over them. The King of Jordan married for love. Queen Rania was a commoner. If you must, focus on them.”

Sudden movement found you falling off Steve and onto the bed, shoved onto your back and in a flash, he was on top of you again. Over you. Hovering. Though he’d escaped out of your body, you could feel the king’s most delicious semi, slick from your previous copulation, squish between you both.

Admitting on an exhale, “Forgot about them.”

“Everyone does.” He agreed, surveying down, taking in the sight of you. “My country appreciates you. They’re fond of you. You’re in all the papers and they’ve given you a nickname.”

And that. That. Nearly killed the mood.

It sent your eyebrows together dubiously so.

Everytime you were in the press it was when your skirt had been blown up on a windy day, or if you’d accidentally gotten food on your shirt. Or that time a baby goat pooped on your shoes. Or when you’d tripped and fallen off a dock into a lake. Who could forget that time you’d accidentally called the Prime Minister of Canada a ‘moose fucking cannibal’ when you’d still been getting the hang of the language, your first year on the job?

You’d been affectionately dubbed, ‘the King’s Foreign Devil’ and it had stuck.

Hell, you still got asked about your thoughts on the Canadian Prime Minister whenever a member of the press was around.

“Most the time, you have a higher approval rating than I do,” he added. Much to the consternation of Maria Hill in PR. “Trust me. There is nothing my country loves more than a hard-working loyal servant of the people who talks shit about western leaders.”

Mood totally killed, you seethed and not for the first time, “That was an accident! I was trying to call him Canada’s Disney Prince.”

***

The note had been hand delivered to the palace and was now crumbled into a ball in the Queen Mother’s bedroom as she stormed off, once more, that early morning in a fury of rose satin and silk. Her perfume clouded around her, drifting behind her, much like the wake of a boat cutting through the water.

Thick carpets silenced her heels. Doors opened for her as she neared them, allowing her to not need to slow her step even for a second. Not a single moment wasted as she made her way through the private living quarters of the palace.

Down hallways and around corners, over to the rooms that her grown son had selected as his own.

It would have been so much easier if he would have just taken the rooms that his father had lived in.

Although, with the horrific memories attached to those rooms, how could she blame him when he elected not to? She had her own private rooms. The dead kings rooms were locked up tight and still not used. Abandoned like so much he’d done, started and accomplished in his life.

Upon coming to her only child’s rooms, those doors were held open for her and on she pressed on. Sailing through his rooms, one after another, until she got closer to his bedroom and could hear his shower which was the direction she headed.

A brief glance was made at the mess that was his bed.

A roll of her eyes was followed by a shake of her head.

Some things males never grew out of it seemed.

“Steven!” She called out in warning, should he be in the bathroom about to come out in the nude. Which was the last thing she wanted to see.

Not only was his bed a mess but his clothes from yesterday were all over the floor.

She had every intention of telling him that he needed to straighten up this mess before the cleaning staff came in his room. The last thing she wanted was for them to think he was messy and then tell their families and friends when they went home that the king had a messy bedroom and word would get out that her son was a slob. Ugh. No. She’d make sure that he straightened up.

Speaking of the devil.

As his shower ran, Steve peered out of the bathroom with a wet head. A midnight blue towel was wrapped around his waist. A toothbrush was in his hand. To Sarah, it was very clear that her grown son had not shaved yet either.

Seeing him in such a state that morning along with his messy room and the fact the shower was going wasting water. It did not make her mood any more agreeable.

Though her son was taller than her and considerably more muscular, she never feared him.

She knew he would never hurt her like his father had so many times. Towards the end, Steve had even defended her from his father’s physical attacks. Those days. They had been dark. Horrible. Terrible. When she noticed that her husband had begun to carry a knife to protect himself from his son. Well. What was she supposed to do?

Attacking her was one thing. Being violent towards her was one thing. There were some things that she learned to tolerate. It was unescapable. Their son though. To take a knife to their son? Her son? Sarah would never allow such a thing.

She was queen at the time.

It was not so difficult to get the drug that she put in her husband’s evening nightcap. She’d used all of it. Thrown the vial away the next day when she went to rouse the king as she did every morning, only to find him dead in his chair. Fireplace having long gone out. Slumped down. Cold. The coroner had said it was a heart attack. Exactly as she’d been told the drug would work. He’d been buried with no one the wiser. Not even Steve.

“Yes mother?”

Sarah rolled her eyes. “You are not growing another beard. Last time you looked like some man that lives up in the mountains in a tiny shack.”

Just as her own father once did, Steve’s eyebrows rose in surprise and question.

No. That was not why she was here.

Sarah had a higher calling that morning and straightening her slim shoulders, she so informed him. “Hope and Janet are here in the city. They’ve come for a surprise visit and will arrive at the palace within the hour.”

Steve’s eyes narrowed at her in response to her information.

It was horrifying. It was outrageous. It was not what he wanted to hear that morning one bit. Not at all. Not one single bit.

Hope and Janet?

Those were two names he never wanted to hear with the additional words being, ‘on their way’. No. Just no.

All he could say that was remotely civil, after what the then Princess Hope van Dyne had done, came out in something of a tone. “I don’t want to see either of them. If you want to see them, that’s your choice. Keep them away from me.”

Considering what the now Duchess Hope had spewed to every reporter, journalist and whomever with a platform…Sarah was a little surprised that Steve was being so kind.

She’d expected a bit more of a reaction from her son.

Could she be holding a bigger grudge against her one-time closest friend’s daughter? After what had happened, Queen Janet van Dyne had become somewhat distant. Which was not surprising. Hope had not broken the engagement gracefully. Nor had she been anything less than opinionated afterwards.

“I suspect she is in trouble,” Sarah confessed. “Why else would they come here? Considering everything that Hope has said over the years.”

Steam continued to seep through the cracked door.

Sarah was about to say something about the shower. Steve was wasting a considerable amount of hot water. She herself was leading the Go Green Initiative in the country and as she stated constantly, it all began at home.

“Mother, don’t take this the wrong way, but, I wouldn’t shit in Hope’s mouth if she was starving.”

Ah.

Perhaps she’d been too quick to judge Steve’s current opinion on the wayward duchess?

Pondering his statement, Sarah found herself looking for any way to come back with a counter when she noticed that the shower turned off. Which was odd. Shower’s didn’t turn themselves off.

What was even more peculiar, Steve reached back behind himself to shut his bathroom door.

It clicked.

Like a light going off.

How could she not have noticed? How could it not have been obvious?

Blue eyes that were a little softer than her son’s narrowed. “You aren’t alone.”

Silence.

Quiet.

Her pink lips opened in surprised. A question hovered on her tongue.

“No mother.”

“But…”

“Mother,” he implored as only a son could. “Not now. She would not want the first time she officially meets you to be when you’re dressed for the day and she is not.”

And though her son’s words were true. They were right. They were exactly what she would have wanted him to say and because she had raised him well, she was even proud that he had made such a quick decision. It wasn’t fair.

Sarah wanted to find out who you were. She wanted to meet the woman that her son was involved with. Was that so wrong? Sarah wanted to meet the woman that her son was considering marrying. There was so much she wanted to say to you, so much to teach you, so much she wanted to learn about you. Perhaps her desperation showed because her son reached out to place a hand on her elbow.

“If you can chase Hope and Janet away, we could have lunch together. The three of us. If not, dinner? Or even tomorrow. I’m not doing anything with Hope under this roof. Not after she referred to our country as a third world plus hellhole full of war criminals and superstitious backwoods heathens.”

Ah, so he did remember.

Those words had been seared into her memory as well. Sometimes Sarah wondered, as Steve had never really given much indication that he cared one way or the other what Hope had said. It was only after she began to speak unflatteringly about their people that he grew irritated, much like herself.

Although, what irritated Sarah more, was the quiet that came from the royal house of van Dyne and Pym a few countries over. Never once had Janet spoke up. Never had Janet said anything about her daughters outrageous remarks or behavior. Nor had she apologized.

Knowing her son, Sarah knew that he would never court anyone who was not kind or compassionate. Steve would never pick a Hope as his queen.

Up came a hand that bore a lovely ring decorated with fresh water pearls from their own waters. “I’ll have them gone before lunch and then we will all sit down together so I can finally meet her.”

#steve rogers x reader #chris evans x reader #steve x reader #captain america x reader #steve rogers x you #marvel x reader #avengers x reader #chris evans x you #chris evans x y/n

311 notes · View notes

roger-that-cap · 4 years ago

Text

all the flowers will bloom

summary: you would have never tried to leave your mother if you knew that bringing that pomegranate tree back to life was your ticket to the underworld. or, maybe you would have, because it turned out that hades was quite the opposite of the evil goddess that you had been drilled to know.

warnings: nothing much!! some fluff, some bonding, near death experience, dog petting

word count: 3.2k

this is part three!

It was late at night, and the only way you knew was because it was utterly silent. The dead didn’t sleep, but the night was their quiet time. It was their time to reflect and be alone, and it was almost sacred to them. You knew that no one would be around to watch you in the garden, whether you failed or succeeded.

You woke up one morning starving. Your stomach was rumbling in a way it never had before, and you groaned at the feeling. Had you really not eaten anything the whole time?

You rolled out of your bed and opened the door to your room, walking blindly down the hall and trying to find something, anything. The urge to eat was strong, and it was calling you. You vaguely remembered Natasha telling you about a kitchen, and how the humans who used to cook in their past lives took residency there and cooked for everyone who wanted to eat, even though feeding wasn’t necessary to the dead.

You weren’t dead just yet.

Your feet were taking you somewhere, past souls who couldn’t care less about your presence and then past others who stared at you like you were from a famous myth. Either way, none of them spoke to you, and you didn’t speak to either of them. You were just hungry.

“Are you looking to eat something, darling?” A voice crooned, head peeking out of some double doors.

“Yes.” You cleared your throat. “I know it’s early, but, are these the kitchens?”

“They are,” the woman said, and you noticed how her form was slightly more wispy than all of the others you had seen. “We haven’t started yet, but we have some things left over from yesterday, if you’d like.”

“Yes, please.”

“Come in, child.” And so you did. Your steps took you further while something in the back of your mind was urging you to go the other way. Your stomach called for the exact opposite, and it won. Your steps got faster despite the bells going off in your head, and then you were standing over a table of pastries.

“Wow, these look beautiful,” you murmured, eyes catching on multiple different dishes. The bells got louder, but you ignored them as you finally reached for the one on the far right. You smiled at the woman, who was watching you with hawk eyes, poorly hidden anticipation on her face as she waited for you to eat. “Thank you for allowing me to have one, miss.”

“Wait, don’t let her eat that, she’s not dead!”

The pastry was slapped from your hand just as it was about to go into your open mouth. You gasped as you were turned by your shoulders to meet an unfamiliar face, yet another woman. She was more solid than the other one behind you, who you discovered had faded away at the sight of the new arrival.

The woman had brown hair and light green eyes, bordering on blue. She was breathing heavily, like she ran miles just to get to her spot. Her eyes were wild and worried all the same as she shook you twice. “Why the hell were you about to eat that?”

“What?”

“You’re alive, what are you doing?” You matched her worry, hands shaking and eyes wide as you stared at her in silence. “Do you not want to go home?”

A strong presence seeped into the room slowly at first, and then it was suffocating everything and everyone else. And just like that, the woman who saved you stepped back from and faced the doors, doing the same as everyone else and kneeling with her head bowed. You looked towards the door and saw Natasha walking in, her aura dark as she commanded the room without any effort.

“What’s going on here?”

There was a heartbeat of silence, and then the woman closest to you was speaking, head still hung low in respect. “A nymph tried to feed her, Your Majesty.”

You watched Natasha stiffen, and then her eyes turned to you. She stalked forward quickly, steps so intimidating that you almost retreated. “Open your mouth.”

Your fear melted into confusion. “What?”

Natasha’s eyes were ablaze as she gripped your chin, her initial hold harsh and even edging towards desperate, but in the quickest of seconds she loosened her hold on your slacked jaw. “Did she eat any?”

“I got to her before she could put it in her mouth, Your Grace.” Natasha’s eyes lingered on you, blank and observing everything about your face at the moment before taking a step back, but if anything, the intensity only doubled.

“You are never to eat a thing here, do you understand?” Her voice was hard, harder than you had ever heard it. When you failed to answer, she narrowed her eyes even further at you. “What you did could have killed you, Persephone. Don’t eat down here, ever.”

You opened your mouth and almost shut it because of the smoldering look she was giving you. Yiu grappled for words for a second, slightly embarrassed that all you could get out was a pitiful, whiney statement. “B-but, I was hungry.”

Her expression of seriousness cracked just a little. “I forgot that you would be. I apologize.” There was a gasp from over in the kitchens, and you retreated into yourself after knowing that everyone else was listening. They were gasping because she apologized. “But if you ever get hungry, come to me, and I’ll fix it. Never eat anything here.”

You were still shaken by how angry she seemed, and by the way the skin on your hand still slightly stung with the force of the woman’s slap. But you were still curious. “Why?”

“If you eat something here, you’re consenting to be a full time resident.” You sucked in a breath. “If you were dead, it wouldn’t matter. But you need to go see that horrible mother of yours, and eating won’t let you do that.”

Your heart was racing. You could have been trapped there, in the Underworld. For longer than you were even supposed to be. You looked down at the woman and how quick she was to recognize what was wrong with you eating, and then you realized that it was a known fact. That meant only one thing.

“That lady was trying to set me up!” You gasped informally, and Natasha gritted her teeth.

“And she will be dealt with.” She turned to look at the woman who saved you. “Thank you, Maria. You will be rewarded for your behavior.”

“It was my pleasure, Your Grace.” She stood up and bowed again before walking away.

Everyone else cleared out while you and Natasha looked at each other, eyes seemingly gravitating towards each other’s. “When you’re hungry, come to me.” She repeated, and you frowned.

“How can you fix it if I can’t eat?”

“The same way I fix the feeling of death every morning,” Natasha sighed. “It’s mostly all in your head. The hunger, the darkness, they’re side effects of being here. I just take it out for you.”

You took a slight second to marvel at the idea of her being able to do something like that. “So you can make me feel full?”

There was something that flashed behind her eyes, passing too quickly for you to identify. Her gorgeous mouth attracted your attention as her lips pulled up slightly, just enough for you to notice. “If I tried hard enough, I could make you feel nearly anything.”

Why did her words feel like she meant something entirely different than what it was supposed to?

§§

The earth was dry. Not a thing was growing, and everything that managed to slip by and grow died within days. Demeter was on a rampage, angry beyond belief. Nothing good ever happened when a god was angry.

“The humans are suffering,” Steve pointed out to her, aware that he needed to say his piece gently, or risk Demeter losing her temper again at the expense of mankind.

“I don’t care,” the goddess hissed, even though it wasn’t necessarily true. “I will let them all starve if my daughter isn’t found and brought back to me.”

“What do you want me to do, Demeter?” He asked, shifting on his throne and giving her a mildly annoyed look. “I don’t have her, and I don’t know anyone who is stupid enough to take her.”

“I want you to call Hecate.” She ground out, and Steve gave her a disappointed look. “She looks up to you. You’re the only one who can bring her out of hiding, and she’s the only one with the magic that can track down my Persephone.”

He looked down on her from his throne, and she picked her chin up as he gave her an even more disapproving look. “It’s not right to pull Wanda back into this, and you know it.”

“It’s been ages since the fight against the Titans. They’re all dead or locked away, now. She’s fine.” If it was anyone else at stake, anyone other than her Persephone, maybe Demeter would have agreed with Steve. Wanda was traumatized after the wars with the Titans, and everyone knew that after what she had done, she deserved to live however she wanted in peace. But she could rest after Persephone was found. “Call her.”

“I can’t just-”

“You are the king of us all, there’s not a goddamn thing that you can’t do! You’re going to call Hecate here right now, or I will let every single human down there rot and wither away, do you understand me? Not a soul will be alive to offer you anything, and then they’ll all take a trip to see that bitch of the Underworld.”

Steve watched her with an unamused glare, equally annoyed with her as he was wary. “Demeter, calm down.”

She looked like she was getting fired up all over again, but she scoffed and shook her head, taking a second to find the right words through her fury. “Fine. For now, I’ll be calm. But you have to swear to me that whoever has taken Persephone, I get to destroy them. Without question.”

Steve’s words came quick, but he meant them. “I promise.”

“Good.” She straightened out the crown of flowers that had tilted on her head, and then crossed her arms. “Call Hecate.”

****

The days passed by the same. Every morning, you would wake up and feel like you were inches from death, and then Hades— Natasha—would come in and put her strangely warm hands on your throat and chest, and then you could breathe again. You would be escorted by her to the second level, where you would exert yourself so much that your knees trembled only to get no results. She would put her hand right on your stomach and make the hunger in your stomach reduce to nothing, and sometimes she would even eradicate the pain in your knees from kneeling through the day. And then, hours later, you would trudge back to your room and cry. It was the same old song every day.

You missed your mother. You missed the way that the outside world could bring you freedom, even though you were trapped by your mother’s hold. You missed the nymphs, and even their worrying. You missed dipping your toes into the ponds and swimming and singing without a care in the world. Now, you were fighting for the nearly impossible to happen, working your hardest to see your own world again.

“You’re going to die before you fix it if you keep going like this.”

You had mixed feelings about Natasha. The rational part of your brain knew that she didn’t want you there either, and that she would rather not have you in her space and presence. You had touched something that didn’t belong to you, and now you were paying for it. But the part of your mind that made you want to scream and cry was angry and almost constantly blaming her.

The rational part of your mind won. “I don’t know how else to do it.”

“What do you do when you’re above ground?” She asked, taking a few steps closer to the place where you were kneeling down, knees in the dirt and dress pulled up so that it wouldn’t have two big brown spots on it. “Because I know this isn’t it.”

She was right. You were pushing yourself, and your mind wasn’t in the same spot as it would have been if you were in your natural habitat. Usually, you could just look at a spot in the ground and it would grow. In particularly harsh lands, you would touch the soul, but it never got harder than that. This felt nearly impossible.

“How would you know?”

“I know all about you creator gods and your gifts,” she said, her tone almost bored. “It comes easy to you. Creating life is your safe space, isn’t it?” You didn’t need to answer. “There’s no way that something that you were born for makes you react like you’re reacting now.”

“Well, you want me to grow an entire garden in a world where nothing lives,” you said, running a hand over your face as you tried your hardest not to cry. “And whether or not I see everyone again is based on that. So forgive me if I’m not being efficient.” She was silent after that, so you turned and out your hands in the dirt again, breathing in and out.

“Have you heard of that one idea by that one human?” You had almost forgotten that she was still there, speaking too vaguely for you to even try to understand. “You can’t produce anything good if you don’t feel good. I think the same may apply for the gods.”

Your fingers dig deeper into the dirt as you cast a look at her over your shoulder, a small and sarcastic smile on your face. “There are many ways this conversation could go, would you mind elaborating?”

There were a few heart beats worth of silence. “Would you like to see Cerberus now, Persephone?”

“It’s Y/N,” you corrected immediately even though your heart jumped, and you had to work to keep your frown going. “What makes you think that seeing your dog would make me happy?”

“I never said happy,” the older goddess corrected, and then she sighed. “But it could be a start.”

“You can’t be serious,” you said, taking your hand from the dirt and turning around to stand, giving Natasha an incredulous look, even though you meant it to be more curious. “Why do you care?”

“I told you, I don’t want you here for any longer than necessary. I don’t need the Mother of Corn Stalks attempting to wage war on me.” She turned around and took a step forward, and you knew that she was walking to the elevator and expected you to follow.

You did.

You watched the doors open and watched her form as she let herself in first, and then looked at you expectantly. “And, besides, I hate to watch flowers wilt. That’s the whole reason you’re even here, you know.”

She hated to watch flowers die? That seemed uncharacteristic of the woman that your mother had warned you about, but you were quickly learning that most of the things your mother had told you about her just weren’t true. No person who liked death and destruction didn’t like to watch death and destruction. Your mother was wrong about her, and you thought about that the entire way to the elevator.

You waited in the elevator, not sparing a look at the Queen of the Dead for fear that she would already be looking at you. You didn’t want to admit it, but she intimidated you.

You were on the opposite sides of your own large spectrum. She was in charge of everything dead, the very part of life that you worked tirelessly against. If it wasn’t the air of death and decay that surrounded her, it was the look in her eyes. Half haunted, half… alive. Hades hid so much with her eyes that it was impossible for you to ignore and dig into, just like you used to dig in dirt. And you discovered that the woman truly felt as much as anyone above, maybe even as much as the humans. And that terrified you. It terrified you that the woman that your mother demonized actually had emotions in her heart, had a weakness and a strength.

Hades became so much more than a story far too quickly for you to grasp.

“Cerberus,” she started, and her commanding voice nearly made you jump out of your own godly skin. She continued with barely any pause. “He’s a good dog. He’s just… he will be very overwhelming to see at first.”

You assumed so. He was the creature that guarded the entrance of the Underworld, which meant that he must have been more horrifying than anything that walked the greens of the earths. You knew he was as dark as midnight and that he had three heads simply from the stories that everyone was told when they were young enough to listen.

Natasha strutted out of the elevator, red hair swaying in the wind with her sure steps. You were steps behind, still wincing at the feeling of unfamiliar stone on your bare feet instead of tickling grass. She took you to an iron door, one that looked heavy and sounded even more heavy when she pulled it open after having a handful of keys appear in her hands. She unlocked the door with two of them, and then other locks that you hadn’t even seen turned.

“Why did I agree to this, again?” You breathed out as she led you in without a word, and then you were nearly screaming.

The creature was huge. He was so tall that he straight up took your breath out of your chest, and your hands shook. He had three heads, indeed, all three with dark red eyes that stirred like storms. Though there were three heads and they were all three scary, you couldn’t take your eyes off of the middle head. He had bared his teeth automatically at the sight of visitors, and he showed off his killer incisors to make it painfully obvious that he was the most vicious of the three. You tried not to take a step back or startle either of them in the silent room.

“Stand down,” Natasha commanded, and just like that, all three of the heads were subdued, and the conjoined body laid down on the floor, the middle head resting on the front paws. “You’re going to let my visitor see you.”

You nodded warily,your wide eyes fixated on the huge thing and your hands shook. ��Oh, I’ve seen him, I’ll be alright from here.”

And you were. For a few weighted moments, you just stared at the thing but looked so out of the ordinary egg that for a moment, you doubted that something like him could be a thing. You watched the thing for minutes, analyzing movements and mannerisms.

“Is he alive?”

The question came from nowhere, and surprisingly, from behind you. You jumped and turned your head to see Natasha leaning on the wall of the very generous cage. Her slender arms were crossed as her eyes were questioning as she waited for your answer, like she had all the time in the world and no intention of repeating herself.

“Cerberus?” You squeaked out, and then cleared your throat quietly. No. That was your immediate response, or what you wanted it to be. But before you could say anything, you second guessed yourself. “I… I don’t know.”

Natasha’s arm extended as she gestured towards her well known guardian animal. “Feel.”

He felt… different. He felt gray, right in between the white light of life and the plain darkness of death. At first glance, he seemed to be floating right in between, placidly and without a care. But, when you dug harder, you realized that he was actually much more in the white than he was in the dark.

He was more alive than dead.

“He’s… alive.”

“And if he’s alive after hundreds and thousands of years, then anything you can plant can stay that way.” She leaned off of the wall, and you swallowed when she turned her gaze towards you, and like she and her pet were on the same page, all four pairs of eyes in the room were set on you, waiting patiently for your gift to bless their home. “Don’t you agree?”

****

i hope you guys liked this one!! we’re getting into stuff now, so that’s exciting. it came early because i’m kind of in a mood, and i wanted to get a little bit of feedback today! this is gonna be so much fun to write going from here even though i’m already having a blast, and i think you guys might have fun reading it! if you guys liked it, please remember to like and reblog 💕💕💕

taglist:

@teenwonder @saamwilscn @messuhp @username23345 @dontmindmejustreading @bitchuwish @blackxwidowsxwife @anxiousgoldengirl @russianredassassin @dailyavengering @blackluthxr @coxmicbabygirl @alytavzla @deathofmissjackson @1-800-gaygentsofshield @msmarvelsmain

sorry if i forgot to add anyone!!

#natasha romanoff x female reader #natasha x reader #natasha romanoff x fem!reader #natasha romanov x reader #natasha romanoff fluff #hades!natasha x persephone!reader #hades!natasha #greek mythology au #marvel fanfic #marvel fanfiction #my fics #natasha romanoff x reader #lgbt marvel #marvel au

224 notes · View notes

thenovelartist · 4 years ago

Text

Burned Beginnings, Chapter 10

<<Previous

Six Years Later

28. Napping

When Adrien arrived home that afternoon, he was surprised that the first thing he got was not a greeting from his wife and kids, but a rather tired looking Marinette quickly slapping a hand over his mouth.

“Hi, welcome home,” she whispered with a smile, slowly taking her hand away. “I only just got both the kids down for a nap, so just—” She put a finger over her lips, expression downright begging.

“Okay okay,” he whispered back. He then cupped her cheeks in his hands, pulling her in for a quick kiss. He still wanted his ‘welcome home’ greeting, after all. “That means naptime for us, too. How much time do you think we have?”

“I don’t know, and I don’t want to jinx it.”

“Good point.” Taking her hand in his, he pulled her towards their bedroom, the two tiptoeing down the halls to keep silent. Quietly as they possibly could, they closed the door and then collapsed onto the bed.

Marinette was quick to snuggle against his side, and Adrien was quick to let her. “Sorry, I smell like bakery,” Adrien commented.

“You smell like home,” she dismissed, settling her head down on his arm and resting her arm over his torso. “It’s fine.”

“Okay,” Adrien said, reassured even though he knew he had to smell like flour and sweat. “You have a rough day, or just exhausted?”

“Just exhausted,” she muttered. “I say we stop at two. Newborns equal ‘no sleep’.”

“You said that after Emilie,” Adrien murmured back, letting his eyes drift shut. “And that was three years ago.”

“I mean it this time.”

“Sure you do, up until you want the next one.”

“Shut up and sleep.”

He smirked. “Will do.”

“And if Hugo cries,” Marinette muttered. “you go change his diaper. I’ve changed it way too many times today.”

Adrien sighed. “Fine. Now shut up and sleep.”

Grinning, she hummed affirmatively. “Will do.”

29. Cuddles

If Adrien was offering cuddles, she would always take them. Especially since there had become two more people in the world who now also wanted cuddles from Adrien whenever he was offering.

She couldn’t be mad, though, considering they also stole her cuddles away from Adrien. And she did love giving out those cuddles to both her lovely kids.

However, there were times that Adrien and Marinette knew they needed alone time away from the cuddle monsters. Thankfully, they had the most willing pair of babysitters in Paris. And by willing, Marinette actually meant that her parents would come to kidnap the kids if they decided they hadn’t seen them soon enough.

Which was fine because it meant she could actually spend time with her husband.

And catching up on sleep.

Today had been one of those days that the kidnapping babysitters had insisted upon taking the kids, and considering it had been a while since Marinette and Adrien had had a date, they gladly handed the kids over.

With the kids at their grandparents’ house, Marinette and Adrien decided to forgo their plan of going out for the evening in favor of staying in. The most they did was walk to the place serving take-out so they could bring home dinner they didn’t have to make. When they got home, Adrien turned on some new anime for them to watch, and they collapsed on the couch to eat their dinner together.

“You know what this feels like?” Marinette said, glancing up at him from her spot cuddled against his side.

“What does it feel like?”

“The New York trip.”

Adrien paused, food halfway to his mouth. Slowly, his fork fell back down to the container as a nostalgic smile grew across his face. “Kinda does, doesn’t it?” He set his take-out container down on his lap and looked down at her. “Has it really been eight years?”

“Yeah. Can you believe that?”

“Where’d the time go?”

“That’s what I’d like to know.”

Adrien huffed. “Back then, you wanted to give up fashion.”

“I still don’t regret it,” Marinette said, picking at the pasta in her container with her fork. “Working at the tailor’s shop is enough for me. And being a part-time worker allows me to watch my little rugrats grow up. And as big of a pain in the ass as they are, I wouldn’t want to miss that for the world. Who knows if I’d be able to have that kind of flexibility if I had been working in the fashion world.”

“Likely not,” Adrien said. “At least not too early in your career without you having to make a choice of who you were going to sacrifice.”

“Well, it wasn’t going to be the kids,” Marinette said. “Even if I loved the fashion world, I couldn’t prioritize that over my family.”

“Amazing how much we love those cute little pooping machines,” Adrien quipped.

Marinette huffed a laugh. “Tell me about it.”

“And you want a third?”

Smile not fading, Marinette quirked a brow at her husband. “Um, no. You were the one that wanted a third.”

“Whoa, whoa. When did I say I wanted a third?”

“Like, two nights ago when you were commenting how it seemed like only yesterday Hugo was born and that he needed to stay small.”

“I never said that,” Adrien said, good naturedly. “I was merely commenting on how he’s already eight months old and I was wondering where the time went. You, on the other hand—”

“Oh? What did I say that even suggested I wanted a third?”

“You were talking about Emilie and how she’s going to preschool and how you wanted your little baby girl back—”

“I was just commenting about how much time flies.”

“Yeah, sure, I believe that.”

Marinette scoffed. “Either way, we are not having a third.”

“Okay, we are not having a third,” Adrien agreed.

“Sounds like a plan.” With that, Marinette settled back against Adrien’s side, take-out box in hand.

With a chuckle, Adrien leaned over to kiss the top of her head.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Marinette interrupted. “If you’re giving those, I want a proper one.”

With a grin, Adrien eagerly obliged. “If you’re taking, I’ll keep giving.”

Marinette hummed happily. “Then I’ll gladly keep taking.”

Two anime episodes they didn’t pay attention to later, their dinner was finished and Marinette found herself snuggled against Adrien’s chest in his lap. She relished these moments, just being together with him in the stolen quiet moments of their busy life.

“I don’t want to move,” Adrien commented as the credits of the episode rolled.

“Maybe I can tempt you?” Marinette prompted.

“With sleep?” Adrien asked. “Because we could do that on the couch.”

She scoffed. “Not quite.”

It took a second, but that Cheshire cat grin she’d come to associate with him spread across his face. “Well,” he began. “We could do other things, too.”

“No, no, that is off limits.”

“Look, just because we still can’t find that pair of underwear doesn’t mean we have to ban the couch.”

“I’m terrified Emilie is going to find that,” Marinette grumbled.

“It is a shame because I rather liked that pair on you, anyway.”

Marinette rolled her eyes.

“You started this,” Adrien quipped.

“You’re the one whose head always goes to the gutter,” Marinette quipped right back. It had been nine years since they’d met, and their banter hadn’t slowed. Marinette doubted it ever would.

“Is it wrong to still find my wife super sexy?” Adrien playfully challenged. “And I dare you to tell me you weren’t going to imply something naughty anyway.”

“Well,” she said with a mock pout. “It didn’t have to be naughty.”

He scoffed, easy grin on his face that always made her heart flutter. “Yeah right. When you imply things like that on a date night, they rarely stay innocent.”

“And whose fault is that?”

Adrien’s brow knit together as his lips pursed. “Honestly, I don’t know. I’d say it’s a fifty-fifty split of who starts it.”

She opened her mouth to argue, but froze. “No, you’re right,” she said, grin splitting her face as giggles bubbled up. “I can’t even argue with that.”

Adrien threw his hands in the air like a champion. “And we have a winner.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Marinette conceded, patting his chest while rolling her eyes at his antics. “You’re the winner. Good job.”

Adrien chuckled at her sarcasm. “Now, what not-naughty thing did my wife have planned?”

“Well, on my way home from work yesterday, I stopped by a store that were selling these big, colorful bath bombs—"

“Yes, please, let’s go,” Adrien squeaked.

Marinette giggled. “Thought you might like that.”

“Well, I like you.” Adrien said, smile turning earnest. “And if you’re wanting to spend time together, I will take it. You know that by now. Or at least you should.”

“I most definitely do,” she assured, shifting to straddle him so she could more easily cup his jaw in her hands. He laid his head in them, wrapping his arms around her waist. “And you know I also love spending time with you when I can take it, right?”

“Most definitely,” he assured.

Marinette rewarded him with a kiss, and he used his position to steal another. She was hoping he’d steal a third but he pulled away before she could.

“Now,” Adrien began. “Not that I don’t love this, but you were talking about a bath bomb?”

Her grin didn’t fade as she nodded.

“Perfect.” He patted her hip affectionately. “Why don’t you set that up, and I will pull the snacks that I bought for tonight out of their hiding spot.”

She gasped. “You have snacks?”

“I bought them on my way home from work knowing Sabine was gonna steal the kids tonight.”

Marinette liked the sound of that. “Ohhh, okay.”

Adrien let her go, allowing her to go set up the bath while he went digging in the kitchen.

It wasn’t long before Adrien arrived in the bathroom with a box of chocolate covered strawberries and a bottle of wine.

Grinning ear to ear, Marinette looked at the treats before looking back at Adrien. “Tonight isn’t going to end up with baby number three, is it?”

“Um, I want no comments from the woman who suggested a bath together,” Adrien sassed back with a wink.

“I never said things had to take a naughty turn.”

“Oh yeah? Then why’d you buy the bath bomb?”

“To spend time with my husband?”

Adrien scoffed, wide grin on his face and teasing twinkle in his eyes. “If I learned anything from our honeymoon, it’s that it is a rare occasion when we can be naked together in a bathroom and have things stay innocent.”

Marinette felt her cheeks warm as all words died in her throat. He had her there.

“Besides,” Adrien said, leaning back against the bathroom counter. “We’re not even having baby number three, right?”

“Exactly,” Marinette agreed. “And we’re most certainly not having two under two.”

“Exactly. Tonight is just going to be a lovely time with my wife.”

“Okay, glad we’re on the same page.”

“Likewise. Now,” Adrien took out the cork from the wine. “Are we each drinking one glass or sharing?”

“Excuse you, but when was the last time you ever had your own glass of wine during bath time?”

“Stupid question; never mind.”

30. Stay

“I hate you.”

Adrien froze, eyes locked on Marinette, who’d only just appeared in the bedroom doorway. He studied her expression, realizing that those words weren’t a barb but not completely teasing, either. Exasperated, maybe? But nothing came to mind of what he could have done to set her off. He’d even gotten the kids in bed at a decent time without letting Emilie pull ‘one more story, daddy!’ out of him. “What’d I do?”

Before she answered, she stalked off into the bathroom again.

Adrien’s gut sank. He was in real big trouble; he could feel it.

When she returned, she crawled next to him on the bed and shoved something in his face. It didn’t take him too long to realize what it was. And judging by her comment, he didn’t even need to see the result of that pregnancy test to know that baby number three was on the way.

“We’re having two under two?” he asked, turning back to her.

She wagged the test at him, trying to look fearsome but not fully succeeding. “Your fault.”

“Um, excuse you,” he began, shifting so that he was completely facing her. “Takes two to tango, love.”

“Um, excuse you,” Marinette returned, leaning in closer. “But I didn’t start it that time.”

Reflexively, he leaned forward, too. “You were a willing participant.”

“But we agreed we did not want child three.”

“Exactly. We were definitely on the same page of not wanting child three.”

They stayed like that for a moment longer, having a stare down that didn’t last long. Adrien’s façade broke first, causing Marinette’s to break. He hung his head while she leaned forward, her forehead hitting his shoulder.

“So,” Adrien giggled. “Baby number three, huh?”

“Honestly, part of me kinda wanted to wait,” Marinette said, her tone half-teasing half-sincere. “But it wasn’t like we were trying to wait, either.”

“Guess things are going to change in the house once again.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

“I was gonna ask you that,” Adrien said. His chest tightened a little bit with a fleeting thought. “Hey, you’re not actually upset about that, are you?”

She paused for only a second, lifting her head off his shoulder to meet his gaze once again. “Nah,” she dismissed. “It will be fine. Hopefully.”

“Hopefully,” Adrien repeated, that tightness his doubt had caused easing its grip on him.

“Besides, I like our little family we’ve made together,” Marinette said with a smile. “And I like the idea of adding one more to it.”

His heart warmed at her words. “I’m glad,” he said, snaking his arms around her waist and pulling her close. She came willingly, and soon enough, they toppled together back onto the bed, Marinette laying on top of Adrien’s chest and smiling down on him.

“Hey, Marinette.”

“Hmm?”

“Thank you.”

Her brow knit in confusion. “For what?”

“Giving me a family,” he said, rubbing little circles on her back with his thumb. “And I mean you, your parents, our kids; all of them. You know there’s no way I’m able to have a relationship with my dad, so it really feels like I’m living the dream to have been given a family like this when I’d thought I’d lost it. Thank you.”

Her grin was tender and gentle and warmed him so thoroughly he thought he’d never feel the cold of loneliness again. If things could stay forever like this, he’d do anything to make that happen.

“I love you,” she said. “And I love the family we’ve made together. And I’m really glad you ended up at my parent’s bakery all those years ago.”

“I am, too,” Adrien said before he was hit with an almost painful realization. “Funny how we only ended up here where we are because of all the negatives in our lives.”

Marinette mulled over his words for a moment before humming in acceptance. “I guess you’re right,” she said. “Still sucks that it all had to happen.”

“I wouldn’t change it, though,” Adrien admitted. “Because it makes my blessings that much more precious, and I wouldn’t want to risk losing any of them, either.”

Though the words seemed to caught her off guard, a look of understanding crossed over Marinette’s expression before she laid her head down on Adrien’s chest. “Then I wouldn’t change them, either. If it meant they led me to you. I’m plenty happy for things staying just the way they are.”

That warm feeling that had flooded Adrien was not going to leave any time soon. After all, although his past wasn’t what he ideally would have liked to live through, he was living the dream now, and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

#miraculous ladybug #fanfiction #adrienette #adrinette #AdrinetteApril2021 #marinette dupain cheng #adrien agreste #fluff #just fluff #Happy Ending #a look into their future #Because I just want happiness for these two #Thanks for reading!

60 notes · View notes

the-modernmary · 4 years ago

Text

my best habit || aaron hotchner x reader (ch. 3)

Chapter summary: The morning after, and you and Aaron are getting back to your old routines, and you go to the BAU for the first time.

Warnings: mentions of smut, but nothing really explicit.

A/N: thank you all so SO much for reading this story!! i love that you all are enjoying it! icymi, i went ahead and put up an intro + blog rules that you can read here!! Please, please read these are they do apply to this story!

masterlist || read on ao3

And here we go again, we know the start, we know the end

Masters of the scene

We've done it all before and now we're back to get some more

You know what I mean

-ABBA, “Voulez-Vous”

~~~~~~~

You woke up the next morning to the smell of coffee wafting throughout your apartment. Still half asleep, you slowly blinked your eyes open and slid out of bed. You cursed to yourself as you stood up; your whole body was sore. A small grin grew on your face as you realized exactly why you were sore, the memories from last night coming back to you.

You walked out of your bedroom to your kitchen, where you were greeted with the gorgeous view of Aaron, hair wet and still in just the sweatpants he borrowed. Clothes from last night were scattered around the living room, untouched. “Mornin’,” you grumbled, rubbing the sleep from your eyes.

Aaron, on the other hand, looked wide awake. “Good morning. I hope you don’t mind, I took a shower and made some coffee,” he greeted.

“It’s fine, as long as you made enough for me,” you told him through a yawn, although it was unnecessary, considering you were almost positive that he prepared you some coffee already. Mornings after with Aaron weren’t exactly domestic, per say, but they were efficient and friendly. Both of you knew you had your lives to get to, and you were willing to help out the other one to make sure they succeeded. The routine worked, and you had grown to look forward to it.

Aaron just chuckled and pointed to your refrigerator. “Already done. You still take it iced with caramel syrup, right?”

If the fact that Aaron remembered your coffee preferences after so long made your heart skip a beat, you elected to ignore it. It’s not like it was a complicated order. Instead you just sauntered towards the fridge, brushing past Aaron’s bare skin on your way over.

Aaron turned to look at you as you grabbed the drink out of the fridge. Now that you were more awake, you could actually take in Aaron in all of his morning after glory. Even with it damp, his hair was fluffier and falling into his eyes, free from any styling product he usually used. His shoulders were relaxed and, you noticed with a smirk, broader than they were before. So he had been working out...

It wasn’t until you got to his bare torso that a soft gasp left your lips, your heart sinking to your stomach. There were nine, almost identical scars, all raised and seemingly staring right at you. You had been so distracted last night that you hadn’t noticed them, but now you weren’t sure how you didn’t see them. They looked healed, but they weren’t faded much, and they definitely weren’t there last time you saw Aaron.

“Aaron,” you whispered, unable to take your eyes off the thick white lines covering him. “What happened?” Almost as if you were in a trance, you reached out to him, wanting to run your fingers over the scars.

Aaron moved to the side quickly so that he was out of your reach, his eyes hardening. He immediately went into defensive mode. “Nothing that you need to be concerned about,” he said firmly, signifying the end of the conversation.

Really, he should have known you well enough to know that you would keep pressing him. “Are you okay?” you continued, your voice barely louder than a whisper.

Aaron walked towards his discarded shirt from last night, putting it on quickly so that the scars could be out of sight. “These weren’t meant to kill me,” he said finally, sadness seeping into his words.

That’s what made you decide to drop the topic. If the scars weren’t meant to kill Aaron, then they were probably supposed to be a torturous reminder, and based on his reaction, it was working. You also figured that it wasn’t just any serial killer who gave those to him, and bringing up his dead ex-wife's murderer wasn’t part of the lighthearted banter the two of you had perfected.

Clearing your throat, you quickly shifted the topic to fill the silence that was hanging over the two of you. You lifted yourself so that you were sitting on the countertop. “So... what time should I be at the BAU?”

Aaron finished buttoning up his shirt and was now reaching for his slacks, his back still turned to you. But his shoulders looked like they relaxed, even a little bit. He was grateful at the subject change. “As soon as you can. We want to try and wrap up this case as quickly as possible.”

“Shit, I still have to shower and get ready. You should have woken me up when you woke up,” you mused, taking a sip of your coffee.

Now fully dressed in the suit he wore yesterday, Aaron turned back to face you, the corners of his lips quirking up in a smile. “I tried,” he explained, slowly letting down his defenses again. “It was hard to tell with the covers you pulled over your head, but I think you told me to go fuck myself or something?” His eyes twinkled with amusement as he made his way back towards you, placing his hands on the counter on either side of you and standing in the space between your legs.

You just shrugged, taking another sip of your drink. “What can I say? I was spent last night and needed my rest,” you told him, feigning innocence.

If Aaron was trying to hide the pride in his eyes at your comment, he didn’t do a very good job at it. His eyes flickered back and forth between your eyes and your lips. “I should get going soon,” he mumbled, more to himself than to you. “I still need to stop by my house to get a change of clothes.”

You placed your coffee to the side of you so that your hands were free to cup the sides of his face. “Probably,” you agreed, but you were still leaning towards Aaron. “But you’re the boss. Who’s going to get you in trouble if you’re a few minutes late?”

Your forehead was pressed against his by now and your thumbs were stroking his cheeks. You could see the desire in Aaron’s eyes, which you were sure was reflected in your own eyes, but instead of taking you right there on the counter like you were hoping he would, Aaron simply pressed his lips to yours, just long enough to leave you desperate for more.

“As tempting as the offer is,” he murmured, his lips still brushing yours. “I really do need to get to work to prepare for our meeting today. And... I’ll need the time to field all the questions I’m sure Dave will have for me about my sudden departure yesterday.” He added the last part as an afterthought, as if he just remembered that the entire BAU was watching the interrogation from yesterday.

You pulled away from Aaron ever so slightly, raising an eyebrow. “They know you’re here?”

Aaron shook his head, much to your relief. You weren’t sure if you would be able to face his entire team if they were all aware you had been sleeping with their unit chief. “Just David,” he admitted. “And that’s only because he figured it out before I could even come up with an explanation. But he covered for me and told the rest of them you were just one of Sean’s old friends, so if any of them ask…”

His words trailed off, but you understood what he was implying. You raised your hands in faux surrender. “Got it, don’t need to tell me twice. And don’t worry, no more flirting in front of your coworkers. I will be the epitome of a professional law intern. I can be a good girl when I want,” you teased, and you were rewarded as his eyes darkened.

“The way you said that makes me think you can’t,” he told you, his voice low.

You laughed and leaned in to kiss him again. The kiss was slow and deliberate and you could feel his lips curling into a smile. Aaron’s hand reached up to cup the back of your head, pulling you in closer to him. There was an unusual softness to the kiss, and you were surprised to realize that you liked it.

You pulled away reluctantly, looking directly into Aaron’s eyes. “You should go to work,” you reminded him. “I’ll be there in an hour or so.”

Aaron stepped away from you and made his way to the door, patting down his pockets to make sure he had everything. You slid off the kitchen counter, watching his every movement. Aaron hesitated as he reached for the doorknob and instead of just walking right out, he turned around to look at you. “When you said yesterday ‘If you ever need somebody to help you pick up those broken pieces’... Did you mean it, or was that just to get a reaction out of me?”

His words were hesitant and vulnerable, which was so unlike him that it took you a second to respond. You realized slowly what he was insinuating: He wanted to keep seeing you. The thought made you happier than you had expected, but that was something to unpack way later.

You kept your voice light in your reply, hoping to calm his nerves. “A little bit of both,” you joked, and Aaron gave you a small smile. “But to answer the inevitable next question, I also would like to see you again and continue this. At least, that’s what I’m assuming what you were going to ask, considering the amount of times you said I was yours last night. ‘My cock whore’ is a new one.”

Aaron let out a breathy chuckle, nodding to himself. He didn’t say anything else, he didn’t have to. The two of you knew the rules to this relationship, and it was already coming back like it was second nature. So instead, Aaron just opened the door, leaving you with a “I’ll see you at the BAU.”

~~~~~~~

Luckily for Aaron, his house was on the way to the FBI headquarters, so he was able to change clothes and be in his office in only 30 minutes. He wasn’t there as early as he usually was, but it was still early enough as to not raise any suspicion, and nobody questioned it when he made a beeline to his office, giving general greetings to the people he passed.

When he sat down at his desk, Aaron really did have every intention to do the paperwork that was slowly piling up and consuming his entire office, but his mind was wandering too much to focus on bureaucratic red tape. Flashes of the night before sped through his mind.

He remembered the way Y/N begged for him to touch her and how good his name sounded coming from her lips. He remembered her face as she was pressed against the wall and the almost animalistic smile she had given him when he had his hand wrapped around her throat. He thought about how beautiful she looked as she was coming down from her orgasm, mascara tears running down her face, hair tangled and sticking in every direction, her chest rising and falling as she tried to catch her breath, and the adoration in her eyes as he muttered praises to her.

Aaron hadn’t planned on asking to continue the situation he had with her. Last night was supposed to be the only time, considering the amount of baggage that came with that relationship for Aaron. He and Haley had technically been divorced when he first met Y/N, but it was just barely and it just toed the line of being a full blown affair. Going back to Y/N now could potentially complicate everything and bring up feelings about Haley that he had buried. But Aaron couldn’t deny that being with Y/N was a welcome distraction. There was no pressure to be “on” all the time. He didn’t feel the weight of the world on his shoulders. He felt more at peace than he had in a long time.

“He needs to know you weren’t always so serious…”

A knocking on his office door shook Aaron out of his thoughts. His head shot up to see Rossi, who was leaning against the door frame with a knowing look in his eyes. “You know,” Rossi started before Aaron could even get a word out. He walked into the office and made sure to close the door behind him. “Pretending to do work is more effective when you actually have a file in front of you.”

Aaron audibly exhaled, gesturing for Rossi to take a seat, although it was just a formality; Rossi was going to talk to Aaron about the situation whether or not Aaron wanted to. Rossi leaned back in the chair and quirked up his eyebrows. “How was your night?” he asked, holding back his amused laughter.

“It was fine,” Aaron said in his monotone voice, but it was no use. Rossi just stared Aaron down, patiently waiting for Aaron to elaborate.

“Are you going to see her again?” Rossi pressed, and this time it was hard for Aaron to hide his smile.

Instead, Aaron just side eyed Rossi for a quiet moment. “I am,” he said finally before reaching for one of the files. He really did have to start on that paperwork, and maybe it would send Rossi a hint.

It did not. Rossi nodded approvingly at Aaron’s declaration of seeing this woman again and placed one of his hands on Aaron’s desk. “I’m glad. I think dating will be good for you. Getting back out there is healthy, Aaron.”

Aaron went completely still, thinking of the best way to respond to Rossi. “We are… not exactly dating,” he said slowly, ignoring the shock that flashed past Rossi’s face. For as close as Rossi and Aaron were, their sex lives didn’t come up in conversation much, and Aaron certainly didn’t have the reputation Rossi did. “And I would appreciate it if this stayed between us, at least until after the case. I know how quickly gossip spreads in this office, and I shudder to think what will happen once Garcia gets this information.”

Rossi chuckled and made a zipping motion over his mouth. “My lips are sealed. I am happy for you, though. Maybe she will finally be the thing to get you out of the office on time finally.” Rossi laughed to himself, like he had a secret. “Even if you’ll still be up all night. At least you’ll be de-stressing.”

A knock on the office door spared Aaron from having to hear any more jokes from Rossi at his expense. “Thank you for that pep talk,” he said sarcastically to Rossi before calling out “Come in!” and putting his Unit Chief persona back on.

Emily opened the door, blissfully unaware of the conversation that was happening between the two men just seconds earlier. “Sir, Y/N is here.”

Aaron cleared his throat, ignoring Rossi’s eyes burning a hole into the side of his head. “Good. We will meet in the round table room, go ahead and brief her. Dave and I will be there in a few moments. Thank you, Prentiss.” Emily nodded and left the room just as quickly as she came in.

Rossi tapped on Aaron’s desk as he stood up. “That’s our cue, but mark my words, Aaron. I will learn all about this mystery girl from you, even if I have to lock you in the interrogation room to do it.”

Aaron laughed ever so slightly at that and just nodded. “I will fill you in before it gets to that,” he promised, and was surprised to realize that he meant it. Somehow over the years, Rossi had become his closest confidant, and it was comforting to know that Rossi was encouraging of this new relationship, as unconventional as it was. “But right now we have a case to focus on.”

~~~~~~~

You knew that the FBI headquarters was going to have high security, but three checkpoints seemed a little excessive to you. Nevertheless, you clipped the shiny visitor’s badge onto the waistband of your pants and waited for the elevator to take you to the correct floor.

It was weird to be going to the BAU, even if it was just for a case. It felt like you were encroaching on Aaron’s personal and professional life, something you never intended to do. You were happy being blissfully ignorant about Aaron’s coworkers. You knew a few of your names and that was all you ever needed to know. Being at the BAU was mixing up the carefully compartmentalized lives Aaron and you had built.

The elevator doors opened and you cautiously stepped out, trying to find your way around. You really should have paid more attention to Agent Prentiss when she was giving you instructions. Luckily, you were in a building full of profilers and one of them noticed your inevitable look of confusion.

“Are you Y/N Y/L/N?” they asked, and you nodded quickly. “I’m Agent Derek Morgan. You can follow me, I’m one of the agents on the case.”

You followed Derek through the glass doors and to one of the desks in the bullpen. He said something to another agent- Prentiss, you remembered- before gesturing for you to sit down. “Would you like a coffee or water?” Derek offered offhandedly, but his eyes were scanning you up and down, obviously trying to profile you.

Following on your promise to be professional, you had put on a nice pair of grey plaid slacks and a satin button up blouse- an outfit you had worn to your internship and to court a million times. But Derek’s gaze seemed more than just surface level profiling. It felt like he distrusted you. And then it hit you. He was probably watching you in the interrogation room yesterday, as you shamelessly flirted with Aaron. Everyone you were about to meet probably saw it, and they were all going to try and figure you out.

It had seemed funny in the moment, when you didn’t think you would ever have to see these people again, but now? Not so much.

You idly considered taking Derek up on his offer, just to keep him from profiling you any longer, but that would just give him the opportunity to share his findings with the rest of the office. It was easier to keep him close. “No thank you,” you said finally, giving Derek a polite smile. Despite what they had seen yesterday, you were excellent at networking, and you knew how to charm a room. Getting these profilers to like you wouldn’t be too hard.

Derek studied you a little closer, but your eye contact was unwavering. “How do you know Hotch?” he asked.

Thank God Aaron had warned you about this. “I was friends with his brother, Sean,” you lied coolly. “I met Aaron through him and he was nice enough to let me interview him when my studies revolved around an old prosecuting case of Aaron’s.”

Derek looked like he wanted to ask you more questions, but you were saved by Jennifer gathering the team and you to meet in a conference room.

Despite the fact that you had met a good portion of them yesterday while being interrogated, everybody reintroduced themselves to you, albeit much friendlier. Now that you weren’t in handcuffs, the team warmed up to you quickly.

You also chose to formally introduce yourself to the team, considering that you were still probably just a file in their minds. “And I apologize for making your jobs more difficult yesterday,” you added onto the end, only half joking.

JJ- which Jennifer insisted you call her- gave you a comforting smile as she walked to the front of the room. “We understand. Interrogation rooms are designed to get those sorts of reactions.”

You were about to reply when the sound of footsteps caused you all to turn your heads towards the door. “Good, you started,” Aaron interrupted, making his way to the front of the room. “Y/N, glad you could make it.”

You just greeted him with a polite nod, before turning your focus to David Rossi, who was introducing himself to you. He had a good enough poker face, but you caught a mischievous glint in his eyes. At first, you were confused, but then you remembered that he knew Aaron came over to your place last night. Maybe he knew even more, which was an uncomfortable enough thought. You didn’t have time to focus on that at the moment.

You stood up to shake Rossi’s hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, really,” you said simply, your voice light and polite. You had been around the DC law scene long enough that you knew exactly how to get people to like you. “I’ve written about you and your books for my classes.”

Rossi tilted his head to the side slightly. “I didn’t realize my books translated to law courses,” he questioned, sliding into the seat next to you. You took that as your cue to sit back down.

Out of the corner of your eyes, you saw Aaron watching the interaction carefully, causing anxiety to bubble up in your stomach. He had never seen you in a work or academic setting, with the exception of that first meeting, but that hardly counted. He had read some of your academic work, would help you with the occasional homework assignment, and even let you practice your mock trials runs with him while he gave you pointers, but he had never seen you truly in action. The thought unsettled you.

“I’m in a joint degree program,” you explained proudly. You had to make an appeal to the school to allow you to do this joint degree, and you’ve busted your ass ever since. “On top of my JD, I’m getting my masters in Forensic Psychology. I’ve studied your past cases and examined the ethical implications involving your interrogation techniques, specifically when working with offenders with severe mental health issues.”

You regretted the words as soon as you said them. To anybody else, it would have been impressive. Even some of the other profilers were intrigued by the concept, but saying it directly to David Rossi was a whole different ballpark. To his credit, he just chuckled good naturedly, seemingly completely unbothered by your comments. “I can only imagine what they’re saying,” he joked. “Interrogations are very different now than they were back when I started in the FBI.”

“Rossi,” Aaron interjected, and that word was a simple warning. He was obviously trying to stop the conversation quickly. Tension hung in the air briefly as Aaron, Rossi, and you all remembered the unspoken secret the three of you were sharing. “Let’s get started, shall we?”

#criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotcner smut #aaron hotchner fanfiction #my best habit #aaron hotchner #hotch x reader #my writing

102 notes · View notes

joontier · 4 years ago

Text

The King’s Guard | Chapter 7

pairings: kim seokjin x reader ; jeon jungkook x reader ; min yoongi x reader

series rating: R(18+) | genre: angst, forbidden love, longing, immense pining

warnings: none to note

word count: 6.6k

g/n: HAHGFJFIE FINALLY!!!!!!!! that is all. ((also painfully and regrettably unedited)) thank you. THIS IS THE MOMENT WE’VE ALL BEEN WAITING FOR ASJDFOAWJEFI SEND ME YOUR THOUGHTS PLEASE?

The King’s Guard - Masterlist || navi.

The King’s Guard | Chapter 7

“Hoseok.”

Yoongi keeps his voice low as he attempts to poke the general awake, vigorously, yet with the right amount of caution so as not to wake the naked sleeping court lady in his arms. Chaeyoung, was it? The southern king ponders on wistfully as he pulls the blanket up again to maintain the modesty in the room - if there was any left, that is.

The young king of the south had already sensed the tension between the pair when they were first acquainted with each other. Yoongi, not a stranger to the wants of the flesh, already knew this was coming. If it only weren’t for the places they hold in the palace, they would have made a great couple.

Surely though, the two were old enough to know that clothes were still warranted even after what Yoongi could only assume to have been a steamy evening between the two. It wasn’t appropriate to just go sleeping in the nude especially when one could easily barge in at any time of the day, just as Yoongi had done.

The blonde-haired king continues poking at the general by the ribs, cursing when the latter won’t respond and instead rolls over to the other side, pulling Chaeyoung closer in his arms.

Good heavens. Why does this have to be so hard?

For one, he’d already wasted time this morning trying to locate Hoseok, who he reckons no longer enjoys sleeping in his own quarters; finding more comfort in the danger that lies with sleeping in the court ladies’ quarters instead. He makes a mental note to address this to Hoseok later as this was going to be a major headache later on.

Should this relationship of theirs proceed with its imminent direction, not only the general will be facing the grave consequences of their actions, but the poor court lady will have to take responsibility as well.

“Hoseok.” The young king of the south nudges him once more, this time stronger than the last. Yoongi hears the general groan in response, and lets himself sit back against the wall in relief. At least this reaction was better than the log he was trying to wake just moments ago.

That is, until he realizes he spoke too soon.

Hoseok rolls over and proceeds to lie on his stomach. Yoongi cards his fingers through his temple, jaw clenched as he tries to figure out a more effective way to get the general up on his feet.

He spots a vessel on top of Chaeyoung’s dresser, and Yoongi smirks as an unorthodox idea of waking up someone pops in his head. Quietly creeping up from the floor, he grabs the clay container by its neck and tilts the vessel, pouring the water onto Hoseok’s bare back. This ought to do the job. Just as expected, the liquid had the southern general scrambling to his feet.

Squinting his eyes as he looks around, Hoseok comes face to face with his king, eyes trained on him like a tiger waiting on his prey. Hoseok immediately sits up, cowering under the king’s daunting gaze, “M-my king…”

Yoongi promptly gets up, not wanting to bother himself with another look at Hoseok’s naked form. “Get up. Meet me by the stables,” the king orders, sliding the door open, “and next time, please maintain some dignity and remember to put clothes on before sleeping.”

The general clambers from the court lady’s yo, taking his discarded clothes by the corner of the room as the southern king heads to the stables first.

“Did she really knock you out that bad that you were harder to wake than a sleeping cow?”

Even at dawn when the sun hasn’t risen yet, Yoongi sees the general blush under the sky’s soft shade of purple. “If I could say so for myself, she was quite flexible, your Highness…” Hoseok whispers shyly as he chews on his lip. Yoongi’s mouth falls agape at his general’s confession, grimacing at the awful mental images it brought to his mind this early in the morning.

“General.” Hoseok straightens himself atop his steed, knowing that the king meant business when he calls him by his official title. “You should know that what I had said was a question I needed not answered.”

“My apologies, my King.” Hoseok says, expression unchanging when he whispers under his breath. “It’s not like I’m the only one who’s getting frisky with the women of the palace.” Yoongi’s eyes narrow as he glares at the general, guiding his horse nearer to Hoseok’s, seemingly taunting the latter to say more. “Ah yes,” the general gets the message and bows, but Yoongi doesn’t miss the small smirk playing on the younger man’s lips, “this is the part where I keep my mouth shut.”

Bored out of his wits (and disrupted from his very lovely sleep), the general turns to his king, “I hope you don’t mind me asking, jeonha, but where exactly are we headed to at this time of the day?”

“We’re already here.” Hoseok, with his question answered in the most unexpected manner, gives an awkward nod as a reply to the southern king. He studies the place where Yoongi had led him to in this early morning and in recognition, his would seemingly winces at him as he remembers the day they’ve faced death in the eyes, and luckily got away with it.

In subconscious reminiscence, Yoongi flexes his shoulders, a short tinge of pain stings through the breadth of his back. Hoseok, in similar thought, does the same, reaching over to his side to feel the slowly healing wound.

The small clearing was not as ghastly as it had been when they had first arrived at this part of the forest. The previously horrific scenery was no more; the doltap shrine, formerly made from dead bodies toppled over each other was now replaced by actual rocks and other mementos of the deceased.

Yoongi dismounts from his horse, a small cloud of dust appearing as he lands on the ground. Just like that, he’s taken back to the same night he’d met Seokjin – the same night he and Hoseok had narrowly escaped the hands of death. The southern king closes his eyes, reliving the scene like it was just yesterday.

“Forgive me, jeonha, but why are we here? If I should say so myself, my king, we we’re lucky enough to get away last time…if we stay here any longer, I’m not particularly sure what or who could be waiting for us this time.”

“We have to look for something.”

“Which is?”

“I’m not sure too. Just… I don’t think Seokjin is dead yet.”

Hoseok looks at him, worry painting all over his features. Yoongi had never concerned himself with the capitol, all the more with its king. The southern general couldn’t quite put a finger on it yet, but he is sure that there is a missing piece of the puzzle he has yet to discover. It won’t be long before he does.

Jungkook watches you from the shade of another nearby tree, indulging himself with an apple he picked earlier on the way to the gardens. You’ve just finished teaching five new characters to the class, and as a reward for their exemplary behavior, you decided to treat them with a story – one you’re telling with such animation right now.

He joins the children in laughter when you imitate a creature: an elephant, he reckons, though he’s never seen one in real life. Subsequently, you use your arm as a trunk and even start to make the strangest sounds to mimic the animal. Peels of the sound of amusement resonate throughout the open space. Even the court ladies you’d initially came with join soon afterwards, making their best impressions of different animals.

The sight was most endearing. You’re a natural when it comes to children, Jungkook attests to himself. You were patient, caring, and kind – all the traits of a good mother already inherent in you. It was no question that you child will grow up to be just as wonderful as you are.

Being a widow though? Not so much.

Despite the bountiful radiance brought about by these children, he could still see the sadness in your eyes. Gone are your usually bright orbs, mirth and brilliance swimming freely in your pupils.

It’s only been a week since the news of Seokjin’s passing and the announcement of your pregnancy. You’d maintained your cheeriness but Jungkook fears it all might have been just a façade because your smiles never reached your eyes unlike before.

Jungkook knew you were strong. Even the whole palace would agree on that fact. You were stronger than anyone could ever admit and you were far stronger than you think you were. It was a trait of yours that even only the bravest could only hope to be bestowed with. Your resilience was one of your many characteristics that Jungkook admired so much.

But at the same time, he fears this mask of courage you put on was going to be the same thing that was going to destroy you slowly from the inside.

Jungkook understood where you were coming from. Truly, he did. He’s dealt with enough royals all his life to know that a simple display of weakness could be perceived for something far greater than it is. Royals are groomed and nurtured to perfection from the moment they are born, and in their lifetime, they are only afforded a specific set of standards they had to live by strictly, else they lose the respect of the council and subsequently, their people.

It was madness at the least, to think that royals are supposed to be as stiff as their forefathers now commemorated by figures made of stone or some precious mineral. How strangely ironic.

Crown aside, you are but a human being, a woman, who had just lost her husband, and is now burdened with having to deal with your pregnancy alone. On top of all the responsibilities of a queen, including those of which Seokjin had left you.

Jungkook knew he was a mere soldier in your eyes, but he wanted to help you in the hopes to alleviate the pain you were going through; he wanted you to know that he feels your pain and he knows the suffering of one who has likewise lost a loved one.

He knows you’re constantly pre-occupying yourself with these things, always looking for a distraction to forget your personal sentiments. Jungkook could only imagine what struggles you’re going through right now and how badly he wishes he could hold you in his arms and tell you it’s going to be alright and he’s going to be there for you no matter what.

“Jungkook? Captain?”

“Huh?”

Jungkook scrambles to his feet as he sees you looking down on him as he rested by the bark of the tree. “Jungjeon-mama!”

Chuckling, you remove a stray leaf that stuck itself to his pants. Jungkook’s heart flutters at the small gesture. “Are you alright, captain? I’ve been calling for you but you seem busy staring off into the distance…” He gulps.

“Alright. Will you accompany me to the doltap shrine then?”

“Of course, Mama.”

Just like before, the two of you walk in comfortable silence, although the captain beside you looks more tense than ever. “Jungkook. Are you sure you’re alright? If you’re unwell, I can just go on my own. You can head back to your quarters.”

The captain quickly shakes his head, but when you meet his eyes, there’s a heavy weight in his stare that you wish to mention, but you don’t want to push his boundaries any further, especially when the two of you had been closer than any of you would have imagined.

You look away as you reach the top of the tiny slope, the dock finally in view. Jungkook immediately offers his elbow for your support, and you place a hand on the same with much gratitude.

He steps into the tiny boat first, readying the oars where he can reach them easily for later. Extending a hand out, he beckons you over to the canoe. Due to an unknown factor, you miss the gap between the boat and the dock, tripping slightly as you get inside. “Mama! Our– the baby!” You laugh at your own clumsiness before placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “I’m fine! I’m fine… stop acting like I’m a porcelain doll…” you joke, settling yourself on the seat.

“I’m just concerned about your well-being,” Jungkook mumbles, not meeting your eyes as he fixes the oars with a pout on his face. What a big baby. Gently, you put a hand on his knee, urging him to look at you, “I know,” you give him a warm smile, “and I’m very thankful to have you nearby all the time.”

It was the whole truth. Ever since Minho came barging in with your husband’s clothes and until the announcement of your pregnancy with the council, Jungkook has always been there. Since then, you’d opted to stay inside your hanok most of the day, unless you had to come out for your official duties.

He’d always be there, waiting outside your hanok as you’re about to leave for your responsibilities. You’d even suggested having Yunho come with you instead but the stubborn captain insisted, telling you it is his greatest honor to be your personal guard.

The boat pushes forward and you tilt your head back slightly, enjoying the cool, crisp air. “It’s a beautiful day today isn’t it?”. Jungkook smiles this time, “Certainly, wangbi.”

You decide to leave the shrine late in the afternoon as Jungkook wasn’t able to bring a lamp with him. The sky is becoming a lovely purple, and as the captain manages to safely bring you both back across the river, you make your final request of the day from him. “Why don’t we sit here a while longer? Enjoy the sunset perhaps?” You’re already patting the grass beside you, leaving Jungkook no choice.

Jungkook finally gathers up the courage to ask you this time, “How about you, Mama? Are you alright?” Jungkook doesn’t know what kind of response to expect but he hopes that you will be able to recognize the true depth of his sudden inquiry.

You don’t answer at first. It seemed as if you were trying to gather your thoughts before you reply. “I’m alright,” you retort with a smile. There it is again – the ingenuine grin. “Taehyung had just visited me yesterday to recommend meals I could have prepared that will give me and the baby enough nutrition.”

Right, you were also pregnant. He almost forgot that for a moment. That was another reason he couldn’t sleep at night – could he possibly be a fath-

“How I wish my child’s father was still here to witness him or her grow up.”

Oh. Right. Jungkook chokes back a sob.

This was only one of the many times he’d realized he’d been a fool all along, but this realization had been the most painful yet.

Just as if on cue, Jungkook feels something cold hit his cheek from above. There’s a grey cloud reigning over them, like it’s giving a warning signal of the storm that’s about to come.

He turns to you, worry apparent in his features once more. “Mama, we have to go back!” Just then, there’s a downpour of water, evidently drenching you both. He extends his arm out, even offering you a ride back home on his back. You stand up on your own though, but you don’t take his hand, nor did you follow him back to the palace.

“Mama?”

“Let’s stay for a little while longer.”

“But you might catch a cold, mama.”

“Since when was a cold fatal?” The smile on your face is almost devilish and Jungkook finds himself powerless to say no. “Come on!” you urge, clapping excitedly. “When was the last time you played under the rain?”

“When I was a kid?”

“All the more reason to have fun then!”

The last time he purposefully stayed under the rain was with you, and he promised himself that he would never do it again if you weren’t going to be with him.

You were both young and your rendezvous at the southern forest were nothing short of cherished moments. There were days when the downpour was ultimately unavoidable, especially when you’re playing in the middle of the forest. Rain hadn’t stopped you both from meeting nonetheless. There were also days when he just waited at your designated meeting place, only accompanied by the angry clouds while his body shivered from the cold.

When the years had passed by, Jungkook didn’t find anything enjoyable with staying under the rain so he stayed indoors most of the time, unless it was part of his official duties. Besides, everything else seemed to lose its purpose if you weren’t in it.

Life for him was a storm he was waiting to pass, but since he’d met you that day in the forest all muddy, he learned that life was about learning how to dance in the rain. Ironically enough, you were also the sun that brought light to his life, providing him with enough energy to last for centuries.

You feel something by your feet, prompting you to jump into Jungkook’s arms in fright. The captain gets surprised by your actions, causing him to almost lose his footing. Jungkook looks down to see any damage and sees a brown slimy creature camouflaging with the grass, “Mama, it’s just a frog…”

You frown adorably, giving him a hard time with an irresistible pout. How he wishes he could just kiss you right now. “I’m not particularly fond of these creatures…” You gasp when another one croaks, tightening your grip around the captain’s arms. Jungkook’s mouth twitches in silent celebration at your touch. He may or may not have flexed his muscles too on purpose – but that was most likely a primary instinct when the woman of your dreams encourages physical contact, albeit subconsciously.

Jungkook’s jubilation is cut short when more frogs start to appear out of nowhere, causing you to squeeze even tighter, your grip bordering on pain. For some unknown, you’ve managed to latch on his back with your constant avoidance of the tiny, slimy creatures. “Jung!” you shout, now relentlessly slapping his arm; Jungkook huffs - so much for his fantasies. “We have to get out of here Jungkook!!”

The quick-witted captain crouches low enough, telling you to jump on his back. He didn’t need to actually tell you though, because the moment he’d turned around you already had your hands hooked over his shoulders, trying to get him to hurry. Because of all the movements and the noise, the frogs share the same level of alarm as you – one even manages to fasten itself on your shoe. You flail your foot about, subsequently making it fly about a few feet away and thus, making Jungkook burst into laughter.

He remembers the time he’d surprised you with a frog inside a box in front of the whole class, and now you’d managed to get a whole army of frogs chasing you both. It was a living nightmare – for you at least, Jungkook on the contrary though, is positive that he’s having the time of his life watching frogs terrify you.

Just as expected, Jungkook loses his breath from laughter, setting you down gently as you go over the slope. You’re a little bit too hesitant to let go though, that even when Jungkook has turned to face you, you’re still clinging onto his jeogori as if your life depended on it. It’s a relief when he hears you giggle in his chest, assuring him that you were no longer frightened.

Only silence remained as the laughter dies down. There’s the muted croaking of the frogs in the distance, but other than that, you’re left standing in his arms, quiet as ever. “Is it alright if I hold you like this for a while?”

Your sudden request throws the captain off guard. He’s powerless to say no, not when this is the moment he’d been waiting and imagining for years. “Can we just stay like this for a moment longer, Mama?” His voice almost breaks, pleading at the least.

“Of course, Jungkook.”

It seems like a hug is what you both just need.

Just as the rain pours over them, Jungkook feels his own tears rolling down hotly against his cheeks, contrasting the cold droplets of rainwater. His heart hurts. He’s crying.

Actually, you both are.

You find Yoongi lounging extremely close by the doors of your hanok two days later.

The proximity of the southern king startles you and as a gust of wind blows by, some of his bright yellowish hair fly straight into your mouth, “Yoongi!” He fumbles as he pushes his hair back over his shoulder. “Apologies my queen.” There are at least two strands left in your face and Yoongi doesn’t hesitate to reach out his hand, taking out the strands with such tenderness, shivering when you feel the cold pads of his fingers against your cheek.

It takes you a moment before you realize what’s happening and you pull away, turning on your heel. “What are you doing here anyways?” you ask, sliding your doors close. You’re meant to wake a lot earlier than you did today and if you don’t hurry, you might just miss your music class with the village kids.

Yoongi hurries after you, trying to keep up with your pace, “I was…um…wondering if I could come to your class today?”

“You?” you think out loud, not sparing him a glance. You don’t put much thought to it with your haste to make it in time, and you tell him he’s free to do whatever he wants. He doesn’t say anything else after that, so you quicken your pace towards the palace gardens.

You reach the reserved spot in no time, with the children already settled in, chatting and playing among themselves. Just as you’d requested the night prior, your gayageum has been assembled just underneath the oak tree.

“Jungjeon-mama, who is that ahjussi behind you?” Turning to see who the child was pertaining to, you come to see Yoongi standing behind you, seemingly offended at how he’d been perceived to be way older than he actually is.

“Ahjussi?!” Yoongi exclaims, face twisted into a grimace, “Who are you calling ahjussi, kid?”

The children are taken aback by the tone of his voice, unaware that he hadn’t taken any offense with the child’s question. The poor boy’s lips quiver in fear. You give the southern king a quick glare before calling the boy over and letting him sit on your lap. While Yoongi approaches the both of you with a softened gaze, the boy nuzzles his head by the crook of your neck, murmuring his fright over the man’s temper.

“Hey little bud,” Yoongi crouches, tapping the boy’s shoulder twice to get the latter to face him. The boy peeks slowly from your neck, eyeing the blonde-haired man warily. “I’m sorry about earlier son. I was just surprised because no one had ever called me that –“

He wasn’t actually going to explain it is he? You clear your throat, interrupting him. Yoongi’s mouth presses into a thin line.

“Right. Say, could you tell me your name?”

“It’s Jinseo.”

“Hello, Jinseo. It’s nice to meet you. My name is Yoongi. Could I make it up to you by playing a song?”

Jinseo paused, head titled slightly to the right as if in deep thought. “It isn’t mine to give you permission. You should ask Mama,” he says smartly, pointing at you. Kids are getting smarter these days.

“Jungjeon-mama?” Yoongi asks with an expectant look. With the other children following suit, you are left with no other choice but to say yes. Reluctantly, you lift yourself up together with Jinseo and taking a spot next to the other children.

“Let me just try to…” Yoongi adjusts himself on the seat, plucking the strings in an uncoordinated manner, “remember…” All of a sudden, he claps like he’d just produced gold from thin air, startling everyone around. “I got it! I got it now, don’t worry.”

You and Jinseo share a look.

If there was any discipline of the arts you could take pride for in yourself, it would have been music. Your father, King Daesin of the south, aside from occasionally practicing medicine, also had the ear for music. He had taught you how to play the gayageum, an instrument you’ve been acquainted with for as long as you could remember. Because of fair years of playing, you could freely boast to anyone that you’re quite exceptional at it, but now with Yoongi and his hands on your beloved instrument... Yoongi was tremendously better at it than you probably ever will be.

A smile creeps onto your face when you realize his acting earlier, pretending to be a beginner with the instrument when he could totally be mistaken for a musical prodigy. What a humble bragger. Yoongi had his eyes closed, pouring his emotion and soul onto the instrument, and even without having to enunciate lyrics to get the message across, it was clear to everyone that the song conveyed sadness in all forms. Each vibration of the string – every sound it made spoke in volumes, moving everyone present in class. By the time he’d finished, all the children were as silent as mice, rigid as statues. This was the first time you’ve seen them all well-behaved.

It also dawns on you that this was the first time any of you were deeply moved by music.

The rest of the class stay silent moments later, all in deep contemplation despite the differences in your ages. From your side, you hear a child sigh to the girl in front of her, “I came to class happy this morning. Now I’m sad.” All of a sudden, Jinseo scrambles out of your lap and rushes to Yoongi, hugging the older man’s side in an awkward manner. Yoongi is caught off guard by the gesture, patting the little boy’s head in a similarly awkward manner.

“Ahjussi,” Jinseo calls once more, maintaining his hold on Yoongi’s waist. The southern king heaves a deep sigh, knowing he’s going to have to deal with that a lot longer than he intended to be. “Why are you sad? You played sad music for us. Now we’re all sad too.” Yoongi is rendered speechless and looks at you with wide eyes, seeking for your help. “Uh...Jinseo, why don’t you ask your Yoongi-hyungnim to play us a happy song then?”

“A happy song!” Sheepishly, Yoongi cheers, clapping his hands in an attempt to get everyone back in high spirits. Thankfully, the children seem to enjoy the idea, so they goad the ahjussi on, wanting to see if he’s just as talented with cheery songs as he is with sorrowful ones.

With a small smile, Yoongi mouths a ‘thank you’ in your direction before placing his hands on the gayageum once more.

“Thank you for saving me a few times earlier during your class,” the southern king says, leaning towards you while he mimics your movements as you wave goodbye to the children. “You haven’t had much experience with children, haven’t you?” you raise a brow at him while a laugh escapes your lips.

“I’m afraid I don’t,” Yoongi replies, chuckling to himself.

“It’s good practice though, what you did earlier. One day, you’re going to be a father as well.”

Yoongi eyes you slowly from the side, checking if you realize the gravity of your words. His eyes lower down to your stomach, imagining if the baby growing inside of it was his own blood. Perhaps it was? Perhaps it wasn’t?

He’d been especially concerned about your well-being since last week when shocking news had been continuously delivered right to your arms. He wanted to approach you badly during those rough days, but you were far too pre-occupied to even spare him a second glance. The young king wonders how much of a difficulty it might be for you, but all he wanted was to show you that he was willing to support you in any way that he can.

Yoongi sees Hoseok approach with the jumeoni he’d personally prepared early in the morning. He sees his brother trail not far behind, studying the silk bag in Hoseok’s hands. The southern king had been nervous since last night, continuously practicing his lines to the point where he’s not sure why he’s doing it in the first place. It’s now or never.

“Jungjeon-mama?”

Yoongi winces inwardly as he hears his own voice wavering. Heavens. Why was he so nervous around you? You turn to him with a warm smile. Ah yes – that’s why.

“May I invite you for a walk?” The southern king asks as he beckons his general over who hands him the silk bag. “And lunch perhaps?”

You pause for a moment, recalling your thoughts if you had anything else planned after your music class with the children. Yoongi tries hard to not show too much excitement when he hears your yes. Extending his arm out, he motions for you to walk with him. He feels Jungkook follow you both, and he leans to your side a little, whispering, “I was wondering if we could perhaps…go alone?”

You look at him, as if studying his facial expressions. Turning around, you tell Jungkook to stay put. The captain’s eyes dart back and forth, giving his own older brother a steely gaze before nodding his head and bowing to you. “Don’t worry captain. I’ll scream loudly if anything bad happens,” you tell him as a reassurance.

“In all seriousness, Mama…” Yoongi says, putting on a stern face, even though you are both experiencing clear difficulty with keeping a straight face after hearing Yoongi’s stories. “…do I seriously look like an ahjussi to you?”

You place a hand over your mouth, ineffectively hiding your giggles. Yoongi grimaces, clutching his chest to express his hurt over your reaction. “We can’t blame the kids though. And besides, Jinseo had a valid point.” The young king gives you a playful glare.

Yoongi had been expressing his sentiments over the whole ‘ahjussi’ situation earlier, arguing that he didn’t have enough wrinkles on his face to be even considered one. In Jinseo’s earlier defense though, he stated that only old people had white hair, and if he wasn’t old – why would he even have white hair in the first place. To which, of course, an agitated Yoongi replies: “It’s not white. It’s yellow…ish. And it’s bleach! It’s something I discovered during an overseas travel! A lot of people have this kind of hair color…”

“How are you feeling? Is your pregnancy going well?”

“How did you know about my pregnancy?” Yoongi shrugs as he replies, “Walls are never thick enough to hide news like that.” “Oh.” ‘Oh’ is an appropriate reaction, Yoongi reckons, as he’s had the same sort of response when he’d heard of the news.

“Well, for one, our royal physician Taehyung had scheduled regular visits to keep my condition in check. So there’s that. He advises that as long as keep a stress-free environment, my pregnancy will be just fine.”

Using your chopsticks, you fiddle with the mandu he’s made hours prior, deep in thought as you stare into the distance.

Yoongi hopes that the apparent death of your husband isn’t conducive of stress of a stress-free environment. He makes an inward scoff – as if that’s most likely going to happen. If he’s already thorned by occurrences that seem insignificant to those of the capitol’s then he could only imagine the sort of struggle you have to go through, especially when the backbone of your government is composed of vile men who are strongly displeased by the thought of having a woman on the throne.

The young man lies on his back, stretching out his legs to get rid of the tingling on his soles due to their prolonged sitting. With a long exhale, he closes his eyes, letting his thoughts drift along with the steady breeze.

He knows he’s neglecting his duties as the king of the south by prolonging his stay here, but Seokjin’s death won't settle with him nicely. He has to get to the bottom of this. Even if he’s still holding a grudge against Seokjin for taking you away from the south (and had even secretly wished him dead at some point) he could never plunge a sword to another king, much more to the same one who had taken care of the woman he wanted to call his wife.

He hears rustling from your side, and Yoongi opens his eyes a little to check on you. He watches you clean the bowls and reorganize them back onto the bag he’d brought. You slowly start to turn to face him and Yoongi quickly shuts his eyes, solely relying on his other sense to figure out what’s happening.

“Oh? You must’ve fallen asleep huh?” Yoongi hears more rustling around. “Maybe you could still listen to me even during slumber…” You inhale deeply, “You know…Seokjin was always good with children.”

Yes. Of course, speaking of the spirit.

“Jinseo was one of his favorite students. Jinseo was actually really shy and quiet at first – yet for some inexplicable reason, Seokjin had successfully helped him to come out of his shell and the little boy has been brighter since. Seokjin was always so playful yet so gentle at the same time that whenever he’d visit our classes the children would go crazy over him.”

Well, that’s nice to hear, especially when he’d made a particularly bad first impression with the children earlier.

There’s momentary silence. Yoongi hears a sniff – and a shaky exhale afterwards.

“I miss him Yoongi.” Another sniff. “I miss him so much that it hurts every day. Everything reminds me of him.” The sound of your silent crying rings throughout his ears, yet he can't bring himself to get up and wipe them away, fearing it might cause you to stop pouring your heart out.

Mourning was part of healing. You’d feel lighter after crying. At least that’s what he’d learned from having lost his mother too.

At the same time, Yoongi feels his chest constrict at your words. While you pour your fears out to his sleeping form, he struggles with maintaining a stoic face to keep his act up. His empathy is fighting to register in his features, and when he can no longer hold it in, he turns his back to you, swallowing back his emotions that threaten to pour out after years of hiding.

“Jeonha, I can't seem to find any sign of him anywhere.”

Hoseok slowly and carefully gets back up from his crouching position, groaning in relief as he hears his joints cracking as he twists his torso from side to side. Yoongi does the same, shaking his legs one at a time to get rid of the numbness.

It’s been a few hours since they’ve arrived and Yoongi is getting more hopeless with every passing moment. They have searched everywhere for anything – any sign that he’s still alive.

He’d promised you he’d find your husband and bring him back. Even though you hadn’t exactly heard the silent vow of the southern king, he was a man of his word and he’ll be sure to do everything in his capacity to do it.

Yoongi couldn’t even find the reason why he was going to do it or why he should do it in the first place – whether it be for his own peace of mind, for your happiness, or for the future of the country.

He knew they’d left Seokjin that night and the chances that his fellow ruler was still alive was almost slim to none. He knows that trying to look for a clue and actually succeeding was going to be a long shot, especially when it has already been quite some time Yoongi had returned this morning to make sure but after hours of looking, the place was clean and empty, thus pushing down that gut feeling that maybe, just maybe, your husband was still alive.

Else he’d be forced to prolong his stay and resort to more meddling to protect you from harm.

They’ve already gone through this area, Yoongi thinks, recognizing the same stump he’d seen earlier. He settles himself on the tree remainder and picks up a fallen leaf. Just then, something glimmers from the ground and the curious king bends over once more, picking it up. It’s a bracelet.

Yoongi scoffs to himself: an even more shocking discovery. It’s not just any bracelet – it’s the kind of bracelet only royals can have. And if that isn’t the most astounding part of it yet, etched in the gold pendant is the emblem of the south.

Besides you, there could only be one other person who’d be wearing the same. If he’s still alive that is.

The man’s wife places a comforting hand on her husband’s shoulder, massaging them gently to ease the tension on his muscles. She’s never seen him his distraught since…since they left their previous home. Eunkyung is unsure how to give her husband the least solace, not when the circumstances only allow them to hope for the best.

For a moment, they stay like that, quiet and observant. In fact, they had been for almost a full moon, just watching the man they had taken into their home. The man had been looking for firewood that early morning, and he’d found this severely wounded man barely alive in the woods.

He’d carried the man on his back and hurried back home, his initial quest and the pains that came with old age completely forgotten. He had closed off one of his rooms reserved for his patients to tend to this not-so-stranger and had let his wife tend to his other patients while he carefully worked this man back to life for weeks.

“Do you think he will still wake?”

The man is unable to answer promptly as he tenderly takes the sick man’s hand in his and says a short prayer to his ancestors, as well as incorporating a lesson he’d learned back when he was still an apprentice – that human touch was an integral part of the art of medicinal healing.

The physician faces his wife and pulls her closer, likewise placing her hand on top of his and letting her join in his silent prayer. His thumb runs over the ring on the man’s finger, remembering a similar one of his own possession quite a few years back.

“He will. That is what I believe and that is what we are also praying for,” the man replies, checking the temperature of the cloth he’d laid on his patient’s forehead. It’s warm when he takes it, and he makes a mental note to cite this observation in his notes.

“Daesin,” Eunkyung calls, touching her husband’s now bare wrists, “your bracelet…where is it?”

The man sighs heavily, deflated as he rests his weight on his calves. “I…I don’t know, really. I must have lost it when I carried him home.”

It was the only thing reminding him of his past, of you, especially. Now it’s gone – but it really doesn’t matter anymore, not when something, or someone else rather had come into his life so easily. His patient was far more important than any bracelet that proved his previous rule over the southern city.

“I really hope he will get better soon.”

“He has to,” Daesin reiterates, hoping they’d eventually come true, “He has to get better because he’s my son-in-law.”

[taglist] : Send in an ask if you want to be added!!

@aretha170 @strxwberri-milk @vivpurple7 @wheredoiwhaaat25 @hodginss @btsxdoll @laabellaavitaa21 @jooniebugg @mintseesaw @aamxxrii

Tell me what you think? x

#bangtanhq #ficswithluv #btsgoldnet #btswritingcafe #hyunglinenetwork #bangtanarmynet #btsghostie #bayanihanboost #jeon jungkook #min yoongi #kim seokjin #bts series #seokjin x reader #jungkook x reader #yoongi x reader #bts imagines #bts scenarios #bts fluff #bts angst

99 notes · View notes

prettyyyboyluke · 5 years ago

Text

The Dark Room

you guys asked what the dark room is all about, so, here it is

i was coming back from helping my brother move into his new house. he has horrible taste in furniture, so i was helping him pick out new pieces that compliment the modern home he just bought. once i walked in the door, i expected to see at least calum and michael sitting on the couch playing video games, but no one was in the den. the whole house stood silent. i checked the kitchen, the gym, every room we had on the main floor was empty. i opened the door to the basement, which i wasn’t allowed down there, but i felt like they could be there, since the upstairs was just all of our rooms and the light room. the basement was where the dark room was, and no one except ashton and luke had a key to it. i’ve never even seen what it looks like, i have only passed by it when ashton was having a very interesting conversation to luke and they immediately shut the door, leaving me with questions.

when i came to face the black door, i turned the knob, and to my surprise, it opened. i was met with luke’s dark eyes, clearly watching something very intense on the computer. i heard footsteps in the back of the room, but couldn’t exactly make out who else was in here. i’m assuming it’s ashton, since the other two don’t have access to this room. “what do you think you’re doing down here, angel?” luke asks, getting up from his seat on the bed and walking over to me. “i-i didn’t know where anyone was, so i figured you all might be down here. i’m sorry, i’ll go back upstairs.” i said, a little scared and intimidated to see what punishment could come from this.

i never heard luke’s voice like that before, it was weird, and the amount of dominance and darkness that came from it made me sink immediately. i walked back up the stairs to see who i wanted to see in the first place, calum and michael. “where were you two? i just almost got smacked down there!” i exclaimed running into calum’s arms. “we were in the studio, we just got back. what happened down there?” calum asked, running a hand through my hair. “i didn’t know where anyone was when i got home, so i decided to go look in the basement, and the dark room was open, so like any curious person, i opened it, and luke and ashton were down there. and then luke asked me what i was doing and i was so scared. his voice was so deep, i felt like i was gonna get locked up or something.” i explained, my voice shaking a little bit.

we were all sitting on the couch now, and i was ready to jump out of my skin with every movement i heard. they both just sighed, “you know you’re not suppose to be down there. hell, we don’t even have a key to that room.” michael said, pulling me into his lap. “i know, but, where else was i suppose to look? i know they wouldn’t be in the light room, since we only go in there for pleasure. what even is that room? i never got to ask either of you.” i said, putting my head onto michael’s chest. “when we all decided to be in this relationship, ashton and luke had this idea to build the dark room and the light room. you remember when you had to be out of the house really early in the morning and couldn’t come back until one of them texted you? and how we had that fancy dinner with that contract?” calum began to explain, “yeah, what does that have to do with anything?” i answered. “that’s when they were building the rooms. but then, when you saw them two talking that one day, that’s when they got very protective of it. all four of us have a key to the light room, which is where we do most of our pleasure. and only luke and ashton have a key to the dark room.” he said, michael beginning to speak.

my head lifted from his chest, wanting to know more about this whole thing. “ashton has rules, sweetheart. and we all have to follow them, and if we don’t, we get punished. you’ve been very well behaved these past few weeks, we haven’t needed to punish you.” michael explained. “is that why we always go to the light room when i get a reward?” i asked. “exactly, pretty girl. but, since you broke a rule, a big one too, you might be seeing the dark room sooner than we expected you to.” calum said. “does this mean i have to start calling all of you daddy again? not that i mind, but, now i’m scared.” i whispered to michael. “probably, baby. how about tonight, you sleep with me, that way you’re not too scared to see what happens in the morning.”

the next day, i was completely on edge. luke and ashton had come upstairs for a short period of time, but they did not acknowledge me once. it made my stomach churn and my palms sweat. i had no idea what was coming, if i were to be punished tonight. calum came and knocked on my door telling me that dinner was ready. “i don’t wanna go down there, daddy.” i whispered. “you’ll be fine, pretty girl. i’m not going anywhere, i’ll be with you the whole time. so will michael.” calum reassured me.

when we got downstairs, my eyes looked down to the floor in an instant. “that’s no way to greet us, angel. head up.” luke said sternly. “sorry, daddy.” i muttered. the whole dinner was silent and filled with tension with the only conversation being carried by calum and michael. luke and ashton kept their responses very short, or didn’t say anything at all. as soon as dinner was finished, i stayed back and cleaned up, taking a bit of stress away. “you were a good girl tonight, sweetheart, don’t worry about what luke and ashton are gonna do.” michael came up and whispered, kissing the side of my head.

once everything was cleaned, i headed back up to my room and started getting ready for bed. as soon as i put on a pair of shorts and a bralette, there was a knock on my door. and when i opened it, luke and ashton were standing outside. i didn’t know what to do or say, my mouth opened, but closed immediately. “angel, you’re gonna have to come with us. we all need to talk.” luke said, grabbing my hand and leading me out of my room. i looked back to see if michael or calum was there, but nope, it was just ashton. my heart started pounding so hard i was certain you would be able to hear it.

“you’re about to see what happens to little girls who disobey orders.” ashton finally spoke. we were finally standing in the dark room. calum and michael were sitting on the bed, both with ties in their hands. i looked around, seeing every type of torture device that was available. “you’ve been very curious to see this place, baby doll. and after yesterday, we decided you should finally find out what goes on down here.” ashton said, ushering me further into the room. “this isn’t something we were ready to show you, but after calum and michael told you about it, we figured your pretty mind was racing.” luke said. i didn’t know where to look, this was something i was not ready for in the slightest.

the dark room was red and black. multiple floggers, whips, and riding crops filled up two walls. another had different chains, rope, and tape. there was a big red and black bed in the middle of the room, gold hoops on each of the four bed posts. the ceiling had holes in it so one could be hung from it with special hand cuffs. there was a red latex couch that had candles lit around it, some sort of melting wax for the skin. there was a giant X opposite of the bed that had ties hung from each corner. there were multiple dressers in the room, each filled with different toys. there was another door that lead to another room. “w-what’s in that room?” i asked, pointing to the closed door. “you wanna find out?” ashton asked. i nodded my head and made my way to the door.

this had more whips, more ties, and just more, torture. there was no bed, no couch, but there was some sort of chair that was slouched and had arm rests with cuffs attached to them. and then what really caught my attention was a chair that had a vibrator going through it and black ties attached to all four legs of the chair. across the chair was a one way mirror, i couldn’t see out of it from this end, but on the other end you were able to see a clear view of the chair. the walls were decorated with red lights with sayings on them, along with pictures of all of us. one with calum’s hand around my throat, another with luke pulling my hair up towards his back, michael sucking on my neck, and me lying across ashton’s lap, all in black and white.

YOUR PAIN IS OUR PLEASURE

YOU ASK BEFORE SPEAKING

YOU WILL BE TREATED LIKE A SLUT

IF YOU ACT LIKE A SLUT

i had no idea that when i agreed to this relationship, this is what i would be getting myself into after breaking the big rules. i backed out of the room and closed the door behind me. “enjoy that?” luke asked. “what is all this for?” i asked. “ash, luke, go easy on her, she’s already terrified.” calum said. “you see angel, we have rules for you and we expect you to follow them at all times. the first time you got a glance at this room, ash and i both knew that you wanted to get a closer look. but all of us explicitly agreed that we wouldn’t bring you in here, unless you broke a very big rule. that’s why we always use the light room, it’s much more your speed, and we didn’t wanna corrupt our little girl just yet.” luke said. oh how i wish to be in the light room right now.

“when luke and i were down here yesterday, we never expected to see our little girl walk through those doors.” ashton said. “then, why didn’t you just show me this place the first time i walked by?” i asked. “you weren’t ready, baby doll. but you came in here yesterday, and you broke mine and luke’s number one rule.” ashton replied. “so, am i getting punished now, daddy?” i asked to all four of them. “you have to learn your lesson, angel. and if it ever gets too much, just use our safe word.” luke said. i nodded to his words. “tell us you understand, sweetheart. we need to hear you say it.” michael finally spoke. “i understand, daddy. punish me.”

i have never been punished like this. the only punishment i ever got was a few spankings from ashton, and that was because we were in the heat of the moment. “where should we start?” calum asked. “i think we hang her to the ceiling first, just give her a little taste of being whipped.” luke said. “c’mere pretty girl.” calum beckoned me over. i walked over to him, putting my hands on his shoulders. his hands dipped into the waist band of my shorts, sliding them down my legs, my panties coming with them. they then went to lift up the bra i was wearing. he ran his hand through my hair a few times, making it look a little messier than it was.

my wrists were put through two thick handcuffs, with cushioning on the inside. they were secured against the ceiling and with any movement, they just moved in a jagged motion. ashton came up to me with one of the floggers, “i am going to hit you with this until you ask me to stop, do you understand, doll?” “yes daddy, i understand.” “good girl.” he grabbed the ends of the flogger and hit it against the skin of my back. my body jolted forwards making the handcuffs move with me. i felt this motion for a while until my back was burning. “how does it feel, angel?” luke asked, tilting my chin up so i was looking him in the eyes. it definitely wasn’t as painful as i expected it to be, but they trained me to have a high pain tolerance. “g-good. it’s not as bad as i thought.” i answered. “would you rather have something more painful?” “i-i don’t know. what would it be?” i asked, wanting to know what else they would do.

luke turned to one of the walls and grabbed a thick riding crop. “how about you try this ash, don’t think she looks phased by that flogger.” luke said, handing off the crop to ashton. ashton gladly took it in his hands, coming to face me now. “same rules apply, baby doll.” he said. first, he dragged it around my body, stopping at the insides of my thighs. he slapped the insides of my thighs causing me to moan. “doesn’t feel so good now, does it?” “please, daddy, do it again.” i asked, the pain making me want more. “oh, you want more? do we have a little pain slut we never knew about?” ashton said, repeating his motions. he slip the crop up, resting it against my heat. my hips instinctively bucked upwards.

ashton quickly slapped it against my clit, my legs closing around one another. “ah ah, open up those legs.” calum said, pointing to where my thighs met. i listened to his command, opening my legs again. ashton slapped me once again. my head was thrown back in pleasure, “please, daddy.” “please, daddy what? does it feel good baby?” ashton asked, hitting me for the third time. “yes! it feels so good, fuck.” i cursed. michael came around with nipple clamps. his tongue ran along one, then the other, making them pebble to their full potential. he placed each of them between the silicon covered clams, the chain hanging beneath them. michael then began to tug on the chain while ashton continued hitting my heat with the crop.

“daddy, i-i can’t take it.” i finally admitted. my body was burning with pain and pleasure, my arms were giving out from having them held up for so long, and my legs weak from standing. “wanna get taken down?” luke asked. “yes, please.” i answered. calum came up behind me, unclipping the cuffs from the ceiling. my arms fell to my side quickly, the nipple clams still holding on. luke was tugging on the chain, making me follow him to the couch. “bend over.” ashton whispered in my ear. i placed my hands on the back of the couch, my back arching like i was taught, and legs spread. calum came back with a bottle of lube and a small butt plug. i felt the cold liquid on my second hold, my skin getting goosebumps as it trickled down to my heat. “take a deep breath for me,” calum said, spreading my flesh. i took a deep breath, feeling to cold metal slowly sink into me. a small moan left my lips when it was fully in. “how does that feel, sweetheart?” michael asked. “different, but good.” i said.

i was flipped over, my legs spread with my arms spread as well. “now, we’re going to drip some of this wax on you, and while that’s being done, luke is gonna be holding this vibrator against your clit.” calum said. luke came between my legs, letting the vibrator hit each spot on my thighs, but avoiding where he was going to put it. “daddy please, i want it.” i whined. “you want it, angel? well, bad girls don’t get what they want, they get what daddy gives them.” he said, taking the vibrator away. when luke finally placed the toy on my clit, the wax hit my chest, making me yell. the wax was hardening quickly making calum pour more across my body. my stomach began to tighten and legs were shaking around luke. “is someone gonna cum? is someone gonna ask to cum?” luke asked, holding vibrator against me harder. “yes! please daddy, can i cum? it feels so good, fuck.” i moaned. my hips were riding into the toy, the inside of my walls began clenching down on instinct.

“luke, let her cum, look at her.” michael said from behind him. my head was thrown back, eyes screwed shut, legs shaking, hips rolling, everything that i was being given was making it harder not to orgasm. luke then added two of fingers into my dripping heat, curling them upwards. “oh fuck! daddy, daddy, please, that feels so good!” “you look so pretty angel, go ahead, cum all over my fingers.” luke said, moving his hand faster. my back arched high off the couch, with the plug still inside me and with me clenching around luke’s fingers, it made everything much more pleasurable. “oh my god, fuck! don’t stop, don’t stop!” i moaned, one of my hands now tugging on the chain connected to the clamps.

“that’s a good girl, let it all out for us.” ashton said. i saw stars, my body clearly taking over with the amount of pleasure it was given. once my high came down, luke took the vibrator and fingers off of me. i sat up, taking his hand and bringing them to my lips. i sucked on the juices that were collected by his fingers, swirling my tongue around them. “that’s so fucking hot, angel.” luke moaned. “can i have a kiss, daddy?” i asked, still sucking on his fingers. luke leaned up to me, his lips connecting with mine beautifully. i moaned into the kiss, not having any contact from any of them had me aching for some. i brought my hands up to his hair, my hands getting tangled in his curls. his tongue made its way into my mouth, exploring it like it never has before. i pulled back, taking his bottom lip with me.

“don’t hog her now, luke.” calum spoke from the back. luke finally pulled back, smiling at me. “you’re being such a good girl, doll, what do you want?” ashton asked. “i want your cock daddy, please! i want you to fill me up.” i was begging now for the attention of ashton. “think you deserve it? haven’t even gotten to the fun stuff, doll.” ashton chuckled at my request. “please daddy? i just want your cock, i promise you can do whatever you want to me after.” i said, batting my eyes at him. i’ve noticed that i can easily get what i want with each of them by simply batting my eyes and asking nicely. ashton, of course, being a little harder to convince, but once i pouted my bottom lip, he easily let me have what i want.

“on the bed, doll.” ashton sighed. i had a bit of a skip in my step, finally excited to get attention from him. “someone’s eager, aren’t you?” michael said, coming up to the other end of the bed. he had a blindfold and a cup of ice in his hand. “what’s that for, daddy?” “my little pillow princess* is gonna get a little sensory overload. while ashton fucks you, i’ll be dragging this ice across your body and maybe drip some more wax on you, we won’t tell you when and you won’t be able to see it coming.” he explained. i closed my eyes and let michael put the red fabric around my head. “daddy?” i called out for ashton. “yes, pillow princess?” “am i gonna be tied up?” i asked. “do you want to be tied up?” he asked back. “please?” i said.

now, my hands were being pulled back, i’m assuming to where the gold rings were on the edge of the bed. the rope was definitely softer than i expected it to be. once they were secured, i tugged on them just to see if i would be able to break out of them, but of course, they were stuck. “our little innocent girl doesn’t look so innocent anymore, does she?” calum said. “not at all, first she could take the flogger, next thing we know she’s asking to be tied up.” luke responded. i could hear ashton’s belt buckle come loose making me smile. “haven’t fuck you in so long, baby doll, you gonna be good and take all of daddy’s cock?” “yes daddy, i’ll be a good girl.” i answered back.

ashton tapped the head of cock against me, teasing me just the slightest bit. once he was fully inside me, i could feel the burn of my walls being stretched. he started off slow, his hands grabbing onto my hips, and thrusting in and out. once ashton found his pace, michael placed an ice cube on my collar bone making me gasp. since i was blindfolded, my other senses were heightened. my body shivered once it began to melt, letting the water trickle down my skin. my legs were bent making my thighs touch my stomach, since only my arms were tied up. the new angle making ashton hit deeper inside me. “right there, daddy! oh god please, don’t stop.” i whined. more wax and ice was being dripped onto my body, making everything spin. ashton dipped his head down to my lips, letting an ice cube pass into my mouth.

“look at you, haven’t even fucked you very long and you already look destroyed. what was it baby? the flogger? no, you liked that. bet it was when luke was holding that vibrator to your pretty pussy, wasn’t it?” ashton spoke through grunts. whines were the only thing i could muster while the ice cube was melting in my mouth, water and drool saturating the sheets below my head. when ashton’s hand came to rub my clit, my back arched towards the ceiling. “are you gonna cum, doll? wanna cum all over daddy’s cock?” ashton grunted. i nodded my head and let moans escape my mouth. my legs were threatening to close around ashton’s waist, wanting to cancel out the pleasure. “if you wanna cum, you need to ask, pretty girl.” calum said, removing my blindfold.

i looked at ashton’s eyes, a darker shade of green were met with mine. i sat up as much as i could to watch the euphoric scene happening below my waist. “please, daddy, can i cum?” i asked. “show me what a good girl you are.” ashton said. he held my legs open, and began to pound ruthlessly into me. the room was filled with both of our moans and curses, along with the sound of fluids being exchanged. “oh god, daddy, thank you!” i could feel myself floating. ashton put his thumb in my mouth, making my jaw slack open. my hips were bucking up to his, his thrusts becoming sloppy once he was closer to his high. “atta girl, c’mon, scream for us.” luke praised.

i felt a tingle in every part of my body, letting nothing but pleasure run through me. i could feel ashton’s cock twitch inside me, wanting to keep going, but ultimately couldn’t. “god, you feel so fucking good, princess. fuck, do that again.” ashton moaned. when ashton’s high was at his peak, he pulled himself out of me and let his load loose across my body. both of us caught our breath, eyes closed, chests heaving. his lips gave a long kiss before pulling back. the ties on my wrists were loosed, and there was a mark where i was tugging on them. “such a good girl, you want more?” michael asked. “please, daddy. i want your mouth.” i said.

michael wasted no time in pulling my hips down to his lips. his tongue made one long stride up my heat. still sensitive from my last orgasm, my legs closed around his head. one of his arms held one of my legs open, while the other one was pushing down on my stomach. his tongue repeatedly licked my clit. with the pressure on my stomach and his tongue enclosing around the bundle of nerves, my breath hitched in my throat. my hands were twisting the sheets below us, making more of a mess than i already have. michael snuck one of his down to push the plug further into me. “oh god! daddy, do that again!” i moaned. michael repeated his actions, pushing and pulling the plug in and out of my second hole, while his tongue continued to lick my clit. “yes, yes, please. god, i wanna-” my words were cut short when michael wrapped his whole lips around my clit.

i felt the same tightening in my stomach for the third time. my legs were spazzing around michael’s head, my knuckles turning white from twisting the sheets, my back arched higher than it ever has been before. i could feel something in my stomach threatening to spill out of me. michael rode me through my third orgasm of the night, and when he came up from my legs, his chin was soaked. “made you squirt, baby.” he said, wiping his chin. my cheeks were already hot, but now they were burning. “i-i didn’t even know i could do that.” i whispered.

i could feel my body get tired, and luke and calum hadn’t even had their turn with me. i sat up from the bed, and calum came up to me. “what do you say we take that plug out of you, and replace it with something bigger.” he said. “can you take off the clamps first, daddy? they’re starting to hurt.” i pouted. “that’s the point angel, but i guess we’ll take em off.” luke said. once the clamps were finally removed from my nipples, i could tell they were sensitive. calum had me laid back on the bed again, and was kissing down my body. stopping at my breasts, and taking each nipple into his mouth. his tongue soothing the pain over them. he gingerly let his tongue roll over them, letting my body gain some consciousness to it.

he then slowly took the plug out of me. he grabbed the bottle of lube again, giving both of us a generous layer before he slid his cock into me. “oh, shit. w-wait, daddy.” i breathed. “you alright, pretty girl?” he asked. “yes, just go slow.” i whispered. calum met my request and slowly moved in and out of me. he was holding one of my legs against him, the other bent on the bed. “that’s it, pretty girl, you’re doing so well for me.” calum moaned. this was such a new feeling, i had no idea what to expect. but, it felt good nonetheless. one of hands began to rub my clit, making the pleasure intensify more. “swallowing my cock so well, look at that.” he moaned. it was a very lazy and slow pace, but i was happy with it.

“daddy, i’m almost there.” i moaned. “don’t worry, ‘m gonna get you there pretty girl.” both of my legs were now around calum’s shoulders. i felt myself start to unravel again, my hand becoming lazy and let calum take over. just small moans were now leaving my lips, i could barely muster a sentence together. “daddy, please,” i whispered. “almost there, pretty girl, c’mon you can do it.” calum encouraged. my whole body was tired, with the slightest rush of energy going through it. “oh god, yes daddy,” i finally felt the intense pleasure point that i was craving. “there she is, c’mon pretty girl, let daddy have it.” calum moaned, his own high hitting him as well. calum’s entire body shudders, back muscles flexing and biceps growing taut. he collapses on top of me, face tucking into the crook of my neck, pulling me close as he bottoms out. “fuck me.” he groggily moans.

my body was exhausted, i was sure i wouldn’t be able to walk tomorrow. calum gets off of me, leaving me on the bed. “angel, look at me.” luke whispers, running a hand through my hair. my eyes lazily open to him, seeing him smile down at me. “you okay? we took a lot out of you.” he said. “i’m good, didn’t use the safe word, did i?” i giggled. “no angel, you didn’t. i bet you’re extra sensitive right now, gonna let daddy have a look?” he asked. as much as i wanted to have luke fuck me into next week, i don’t think my body could take a fifth orgasm.

but, i opened my legs always for him. he was now laying on his stomach, arms wrapped around my legs, and pulling me closer to him. “it’s so pink, bet your legs will shake if i touch you, hmm?” he whispered, prepping kisses along my thighs. and he was right, when his thumb lazily started rubbing my folds, my legs shook and closed around his hand. “can you give daddy one more, angel? we’ll be done after this, and then we can take care of you.” he said, fingers already pushing my folds apart. “okay daddy, one more.” i mumbled.

he brought his fingers up to his lips, letting his saliva coat them before bringing back down to my heat. he slowly moved them against my walls with his head resting against the insides of one of my thighs. “does it feel nice, angel?” “mmhm.” “you know, you look so pretty like this.” he prepped kisses on my thighs. i was biting down on one of my fingers, just letting luke do everything to me. “daddy, i wanna cum, please, make me cum.” i begged. “don’t worry angel, daddy’ll get you what you need.” he said. his lips pecked at my clit making my hips buck towards him. “not so fast angel, let daddy do all the work.” he said. “i’m sensitive daddy, please, i’m so close.” i whimpered.

luke’s pace was only quickened the slightest bit, his fingers curling upwards again. i let a long moan out, having nothing more in me to beg. “there you are, angel, give me this last one.” he moaned with me. my walls clenched around his fingers again, my stomach now tightening up for a fifth time with the tingling sensation that i got earlier. “daddy, daddy, yes, god, please.” i moaned very quietly. once i finally released for the last time tonight, i wanted to fall asleep right on that bed.

“you are such a good girl, baby. might be a little bit of a pillow princess, but such a good girl.” ashton praised, picking me up from the bed.

so that’s the dark room.

---

tag list: @calum-uncrowned @wildflowerirwin @haikucal @calumftduke @bettermcn

also thank you @floral-suits for originally helping me come up with this idea, and talking about it with harry

518 notes · View notes

cheri-translates · 4 years ago

Text

[CN] ASMR Transcripts (Kiro)

🍒 Warning: This post contains detailed spoilers for ASMRs which have not been released in English servers! 🍒

This post contains transcripts of the following:

> night warmth - 黑夜温度

> dawn - 晨光

> visiting his workplace on the beach - 海岛探班

night warmth - 黑夜温度

[ MC and Helios are being chased by a police car. Heavy panting. ]

Here. Hurry.

Don’t make a sound.

We’re safe for now.

…have you hugged me enough.

You’re right. This place is very dark and cramped.

You’re afraid?

…I said it before. Stay away from me.

[ Sound of ruffling and Helios tapping on his phone ]

We have to stay here until we can be certain of our safety.

My phone still has battery. There’s enough for it to be used as a light source.

Hm? What’s wrong?

It’s just a bruise. It wouldn’t affect anything.

I don’t need this…

Wait.

[ Sound of bandages ]

Don’t touch…

…it doesn’t hurt.

You don’t have to be so careful.

I wouldn’t become paralysed from this level of injury.

Why are you looking at me like that?

…I already said that it doesn’t hurt. I don’t want to repeat myself again.

You shouldn’t need to understand these things, much less interfere in them.

You…

What’s wrong with your hand?

Don’t move.

Only now do you know what pain is?

Open your hand. Put it here.

…come nearer.

What are you hiding from? I haven’t even started.

Put your hand properly. Don’t tremble.

…does it hurt?

I got it. I’ll be gentler.

Since you’re so afraid of pain, you should remember this clearly. Don’t be a busybody, especially when it comes to me.

There is a reason for that.

Tell me… you know quite a lot.

However, being bold isn’t necessarily a good thing.

[ Sound of running ]

There’s movement.

[ Sound of running ]

…they’ve gone far away.

What’s wrong? Why are you so warm?

Shh…

Don’t make a sound.

…looks like you have a fever.

The wound may have an infection.

Hang in there. I’ll bring you out soon.

Shh, don’t make a sound.

What did think I was going to do…

Fever and chills.

Come closer to me.

Even closer.

Treat this as thanks for “saving” me again.

I wouldn’t care about you the next time.

I hope there wouldn’t be a next time.

What are you laughing at?

Like a disobedient child stuck in a small black house?

You still have the mood to joke around?

Looks like you’re still clear-headed

Very strong… nothing.

If you’re tired, you can lean on me and sleep for a while.

Hm? You don’t dare to sleep?

Aren’t you very bold?

They likely think we have already escaped.

So once it’s dark, we can leave.

This time, after we part, I hope I’ll never meet you again.

At least, not in such an embarrassment situation.

You’ve fallen asleep so quickly.

For now, have a good sleep.

dawn - 晨光

[ Kiro waking up. Cute grunts ]

Hm? Are you awake?

What time is it?

[ Kiro unlocks his phone to check the time ]

It’s still early.

[ Kiro taps on his phone, then locks it ]

Savin says he’ll pick me up at 9am.

I can still sleep for another two hours.

Hm? Didn’t you know that Savin moved house recently?

Coming here requires him to take the most congested route in all of Loveland City.

Besides, it’s the early morning peak period now.

Last night, I saw that he was still singing karaoke at 1am on Moments.

He won’t make it at 9am.

[ Rustling ]

And I haven't been busy lately.

I’ll be investing in two days.

[Note] He actually says “进组” (“jin zu”), but I don’t know what it means even after searching it up. The closest thing I could find is the phrase “带资进组” (“dai zi jin zu”), which refers to how actors bring in start-up capital to invest in the crew before filming officially begins.

I’ve already pushed away jobs that should be pushed away.

These two days will just be spent recording some things in the shack.

[ Rustling and Kiro sighs ]

If I were to head over at noon, I’ll be done in the afternoon.

Hm? Do you want to look for me later?

We can go for a meal together.

[ Random grunt. Kiro sighs again, followed by a long period of silence ]

Oh right!

The program you mentioned the other time.

How’s it going? Smoothly?

I was going to ask you about it on the plane yesterday.

But once we met, I forgot about it.

Savin mentioned that you even asked for his help to find a celebrity who’s good at variety shows.

Have you found one?

In your proposal this time, is there nothing I can help with?

[ Rustling ]

‘No’?

How could there be nothing?

Hmph. Don’t underestimate me.

Even though I have more experience on stage,

When it comes to staging lights and acoustics,

I’ve done my research too.

I wouldn’t be much worse than experienced staff.

Also, if I can’t be a guest on your program,

I could be a member of the staff.

And my rates are very cheap.

If you’re the one hiring me, I’ll give you a large discount.

Hm? Why are you suddenly looking at me like that?

I’m not thinking of anything bad.

I’m just thinking…

I don’t seem to be very busy in the later half of the year.

If you aren’t busy either, we can spend more time together.

If you’re very busy, I can accompany you to work.

It’s so rare for us to have time. I have to cherish it.

Having more things to look at, having more songs to write, and seeing you more frequently.

Don’t worry, I really have time.

[ Rustling ]

I’m not the lead in this show.

So I can finalise it in around a month.

Mm! Even though I’m not the lead, I really like this role.

And it’s the first time I’m acting as someone’s brother.

I don’t know if I can act it well.

What’s wrong?

Did it leave you in shock that I’m not the lead?

Do you also think I should only accept lead roles?

Actually, Savin and I have discussed this matter.

He’s the same as always, leaving the decision to me.

So I think…

They’re all fine. I’ll just look at the script.

And the director this time round specially explained his reason for not casting me as the lead.

It made me feel a little embarrassed.

He’s an incredibly experienced director,

But still had to consider these trivial things for me.

[ Kiro sighs ]

Maybe my schedule was too packed with work before.

So it caused people to misunderstand.

Which is why I want to tidy it up from now onwards.

And not stretch myself too thin,

And to give myself more time to digest the work on hand.

[ Kiro sighs. Long silence again where you can hear Kiro’s breathing. ]

Hm? Are you getting up now?

I’m not that tired either.

But I keep thinking it’s a loss to get up when the alarm hasn’t sounded yet.

You said you didn’t want to get up and yet can’t sleep.

What should we do then, Miss Chips?

[ Rustling ]

I’m not referring to playing games, or watching the television, or using the phone.

[ Rustling. It sounds like he’s FEELING HER UP. ]

Looks like my intelligent and adorable Miss Chips has finally guessed it.

Which is why you’re using the blanket to cover your head.

Hmm, you can’t do that.

Weren’t you the one who said that on account of how I’ve been working hard during this period, you’d reward me with food and drinks?

If you say things you don’t mean,

I’ll be very upset.

I’ll count to three.

If you don’t take more initiative, I’ll do it myself.

Although I never bully you, being a little mischievous occasionally should be okay, right?

Three.

[ Rustling ]

Are you sure you don’t want it?

[ Kiro laughs ]

Two.

[ Kiro sighs ]

Looks like Miss Chips really isn’t afraid.

One.

I’ll be gentle.

[ Rustling ]

I promise.

[ A lot of rustling. Kiro breathes heavily. ]

visiting his workplace on the beach - 海岛探班

[ sound of waves on the shore + footsteps ]

Miss Chips, you’re here…

Don’t worry, it’s just that today’s shoot started too early.

I’m not very tired.

…of course I’m not lying to you.

[sighs] Come, sit over here.

How is it? Isn’t it very comfortable here?

Mm, I like staying by the seaside too…

Just being under the sun and feeling the sea breeze makes me feel so happy.

[laughs] But… with Miss Chips visiting me at work, I’m even happier.

[ zipping sounds ]

Hm? This is a “visiting at work” gift for me?

Wow, it’s a coconut from here.

As expected of my Miss Chips, who knows me best in the entire world.

You actually knew that I happened to be thirsty right now.

…mm, I see the opening.

…mm, very fresh and sweet.

Come, you can try it too… mm?

Why do you need to insert another straw?

Don’t move. I’ll just hold the coconut and feed you… open your mouth.

How is it? Does it taste delicious?

Ahh I’m sorry, it spilt onto your clothes…

[ tissue wiping sounds ]

…all right, it’s just that the collar is still a little wet.

Want to loosen your collar slightly?

Maybe it’d dry a little faster.

…don’t look at me with that expression. I really didn’t do it on purpose.

[ tissue patting sounds ]

[laughs] But there’s some coconut juice at the corner of your mouth which hasn’t been wiped clean…

[ tissue wiping sounds ]

[kiss] All right, it’s clean now…

…but I realised something earlier.

And that is… coconut juice is really very sweet. It’s savoury, especially…

[kiss] Eh, why is your face suddenly so red?

I know, I know, it’s the sunlight’s fault for being so strong on the seaside…

Miss Chips’ reddish cheeks were under the sun, and it’s definitely not because she’s shy.

No, it has nothing to do with you…

I accidentally bumped into something this morning during the filming.

Mm. I’ve already applied medicine. It doesn’t hurt at all, don’t worry.

Also, the moment I see you, I immediately come back to life.

…as long as Miss Chips is by my side, it’s already the greatest show of support.

However, the most effective way of visiting me at work is actually…

Come a little closer and I’ll tell you.

[ ruffling sounds ]

[kiss] To me, this is the most effective way of visiting me at work.

[ many more kisses ]

On a contented afternoon, quietly sitting by the seaside,

Having Miss Chips beside me,

Along with her hugs and kisses…

[sighs] This kind of visits at work are what I’ve always longed for… very perfect.

[sighs] Promise me that in every film I shoot in the future,

You’ll try your best to visit the set once, okay?

Because I hope you can always participate in my life.

[laughs] …all right, I’ll take it that you’ve agreed.

Don’t worry… this place is very hidden, and no one will come…

58 notes · View notes

star-whores-a-new-hoe · 4 years ago

Text

Fast Friend//Obi Wan X Reader

Forever series:Part Two

Summary: As you get to know Obi Wan better the situation takes a twist.(Jesus Christ! Thanks for all the support on the last fic! I plan for this to be at least ten parts btw)

word count:1600

Warnings: Angst, Fluff, Like three cuss words, Typos.

You laid on the soft sheets, eyes still closed. You could feel the early morning light shining through the window and warming your skin. You kept replaying the events of yesterday in your mind, still unable to believe them. I’m not really on another planet. You thought. When I open my eyes I’ll be in my room at home. You took a deep breath and opened your eyes. You were still in the strange blue bedroom. You groaned and rolled over, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. This is fucking insane. There was a quick knock on the door. Hugging your pillow tighter, you wondered if you should just pretend that you're asleep so you wouldn’t have to deal with crazy space stuff. It’s probably Obi Wan you thought. you got to your feet and shuffled over to the door. When You opened you immediately jumped back in shock at the creature that stood before you. “Jesus Christ!” You shouted.

“Please do not be alarmed.” The robotic creature said in a monotone voice. “I am medical droid 2-1B, I have come to complete your medical examination.” You calmed down slightly when you remembered that the Window guy had mentioned a medical droid. You nodded and moved out of the doorway for the droid to come through. “Um, yeah come on in.” *** Obi wan watched the city grow smaller through the glass elevator doors as he rode up to the apartment. Early that morning, when he had deemed it safe to leave you, he had left to go consult the only person he felt like he could about this matter. Anakin. “This is quite an unusual situation master but I doubt it’s anything that you and the other Jedi masters can’t handle.” Anakin said. “Yes, I agree yet...” he paused and stroked his beard, as if in deep thought. “There is something very different about y/n.” He recalled locking eyes with you last night. The sense of calm and connection that had washed over him was like nothing he had ever experienced. The elevator reached its destination and Obi Wan walked briskly to the apartment doors. he knocked but there was no answer. He tried again. Nothing. His thoughts immediately turned to danger. He had only left the apartment briefly and had been checking surveillance very diligently. Obi Wan was aware that Windu had sent a medical droid for the examination but besides that, The chances that someone had gotten in the apartment without his knowledge were very slim. His shoulders tense, He unsheathed his lightsaber and slowly opened the door so as to not be heard. When he entered the grand blue living area of the apartment. He could hear the faint sound of your voice coming from the bedroom along with the soft strumming of an instrument. Hearing no panic in your voice or any sound of violence, he put away his lightsaber and walked towards the bedroom. When he reached the doorway, He stood there in utter confusion at the sight before him. You sat on the bed next to the medical droid who was holding your ukulele while you directed it. You looked up when you heard Obi Wan’s footsteps and grinned at him. “Hi!” Obi Wan leaned against the door frame, crossing his arms in front of him. “Di- did you try to teach a droid to play an instrument?” You sat up proudly. “I didn’t try to teach a droid ukulele, I did.” You turned your attention to the droid. “Show him what I taught ya.”both you and Obi Wan watched as the droid strummed a few chords. You took the ukulele back from the droid. “Not bad for a robot with three fingers and a siringe.” Obi Wan looked at you with pure astonishment “Well, that’s a first.” Gently, you laid the instrument down on the bed and stood up. “Did the droid complete the medical examination?” You walked over to where Obi Wan stood and leaned against the opposite door frame, mimicking Obi Wan’s pose. “Yeah like thirty minutes ago, I got bored so I showed him some stuff on the uke.” Obi Wan noticed that your eyes were red and puffy. From lack of sleep or crying he did not know which and frankly, he was too afraid to ask. He nodded. “How long have you been playing that?” “For a good while, I teach kids to play at my local music store on the weekends. Thats where I was walking home from when... this all happened.”

You felt your chest tighten as you talked about home.The thought that you might never get back home had been haunting you, and it was truly terrifing. You leaned your head against the door frame. “You play any kind of space instrument?”

Obi Wan let out a short laugh. “I’m afraid I don’t have time for such hobbies, I have however worked with young ones.”

“Really?”

Obi Wan explained to you what a padawan was, He told you about Anakin and his experience training him.

“Man that Anakin sounds like he was quite the handful.” You laughed

“Ohh believe me, he still is.” He smiled fondly, remembering Anakin as a youngling. “I am lucky enough to help out with the younglings in the jedi temple from time to time. It's very rewarding to see them grow into such fine jedi.”

“Yeah, I have a few kids that i’ve taught since they were like five. It’s really awesome to see how they’ve grown up, how their music taste and skill has changed and stuff.” You stopped for a moment, not sure how to phrase your question. “You know, I was thinking last night, how can I understand you? Like, you’re not speaking English right, it’s some kind of space language so why can I understand you?”

Obi Wan sighed. “There is a lot to this situation that we don’t yet understand young one.”

You turned and walked out into the sitting room. “Any news on the book?” You said plopping down on the couch.

Obi Wan followed and sat down across from you. “We have several dedicated jedi working on it, but we can not decipher the language, I don’t suppose you can?”

You shook your head. “I glanced at it but didn't recognize it.” There was an award pause.

“Might I ask,” Obi Wan said tentatively. “What is Earth like?”

You opened your mouth to say something and then shut it again. “Hold up.” You jumped off the couch and ran into the bedroom. A moment later you came back out holding a small silver rectangle in your hand.

“This is an iPhone.” You sat down next to Obi Wan. “Your entire social status on Earth revolves around whether you have the newest one or not.” Obi Wan could not tell if you were being sarcastic or not.

Turning on the phone, You scrolled through some of your photos. When you finally found what you were looking for, You handed the phone to Obi Wan. “This is my house.” You said referring to the picture that you had pulled up.

soon enough, the sound of conversation filled the beautiful apartment. The two of you talked into the late afternoon, sharing experiences and stories. Obi Wan listened intently as you told him of your life back home, your hobbies, and the stuff you did with friends.

He told you about his training as a padawan and the dumb shit Anakin would do. He even told you about Qui Got Jin but it was clear to you from the sad look in his eyes that his late master was a touchy subject.

You watched the jedi smile at some stupid joke you made. Maybe being stuck in this space place won’t be so bad if I'm with this guy. You thought to yourself.

Obi Wan sighed and stood up. “I’m afraid that I must be going. I have business in the jedi temple that I must attend to.”

You stood up as well. “Of corse.”

“If you need anything you know how to contact me or the droids.” He paused and looked at you thoughtfully for a moment. “Y/n, I understand that this is probably very difficult for you, and if it makes you feel better, I feel that you are handling this remarkably well.”

You beamed at him. “Thanks, that means a lot.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow young one.” He said turning to leave.

“Oh one more question!” Obi Wan turned to you, cocking and eyebrow waiting for you to continue. “Why do you keep calling me young one?”

“He shifted his weight, trying to think of how to answer. “Well, I suppose it’s a term of endearment. And well, You are a tad bit younger.”

“Giving him a sly smirk you said, “Hmm, kinky.” You turned and walked into the bedroom. “See ya!” You called over your shoulder.

Obi Wan could feel a slight blush creeping up the back of his neck. “Umm, yes.” He quickly spun around on his heel and left.

On his way to the temple, Obi Wan thought to himself, If I’m not careful, I could end up getting very close to her.

***

Obi Wan strode into the jedi council chambers where Masters Windu and Yoda stood waiting for him, the expression on their faces grim.

He came to a halt in front of them. “Is there something the matter Masters?” Without a word, Windu took a data pad out and passed it to Obi Wan.

“The medical results from Y/N’s examination have arrived.”

Obi Wan examined it thoroughly. Everything seemed to be in order, that was until his eyes fell on your midichlorian count.

#obi wan x reader #obi wan kenobi #obi wan fic #star wars #star wars fic #star wars x reader

96 notes · View notes

sabineelectricheart · 3 years ago

Text

Guest-House [Pt. 8]

Summary: Dimitri comes clean and knows of the rewards for good communications.

Rating: T - Suitable for teens, 13 years and older, with some violence, minor coarse language, and minor suggestive adult themes.

Words: 1368

Notes: Penultimate episode. Things should be solved by now.

“You’re a moron, Sylvain.” Dimitri says with a straightforwardness that is rare of him.

“Even a broken clock is right twice a day.” Felix points out.

The boys were, once again, lounging at the exercise room. Or, rather, Felix was already there, Dimitri arrived for trying to take his head off of things by training and Sylvain trailed behind with a supposedly harebrained scheme.

“Thank you for your confidence, Felix.” The redhead beams.

His friend glared. “Sometimes I don’t know whether you’re dumb or just that obtuse.”

“Sylvain, let it go.” Dimitri insists again. “I will not make any kind of grand confession, no matter how much you believe that it is romantic, and I also won’t have you pestering our landlady with the subject.”

“I am not pestering Byleth, I’m merely insinuating that, if she would ever like a piece of Blaiddyd pie, she should say so.” Sylvain points out, as if it is the most normal thing in the world.

“That’s harassment, and Mr. Eisner will have your hide if he ever hears of it.” The blond counters.

Dimitri often wonders what took over him to ever insinuate, not to mention downright confess, that he nurtured any kind of affection for Byleth. Then he remembers exactly what it was, he got drunk and ran his mouth. Unfortunately for him, years of drunken trysts in the seedy parts of Garreg Mach left Sylvain with a sharp memory, even when shamelessly drunk, and so he remembered what was deemed the ‘story of the year’.

Why is that every time he drinks a little too much, some sort of Byleth-related catastrophe happens in his life?

“Dude, please. She’s just out there on the backyard.” Sylvain pleaded, in a tone that suggested that the situation pained him. “Just tell her you love her. This whole thing is ridiculous. She sleeps with you one night and we wake up to pancakes, you shout at her once and suddenly we are all out of salt in this damn house. If not for yourself, think about my dietary restrictions, for the love of Sothis!”

Felix sighed. “Look, if you want to brood, that’s your prerogative, but at least talk to her. You don’t have to tell her you love her, you don’t have to marry her or fuck her, but I think you should just clear the air between you. This weekend has been an emotional roller-coaster for all of us, and you owe her at the very least the decency of telling her you’ll be pushing her away again.”

Dimitri sighed. His friend had a point there. Having someone run hot and cold at you is unpleasant, but if he cuts off all interaction in the sudden manner he was planning to, then it would hurt significantly more. He should just tell her he is moving out before the end of the year. Perhaps Rodrigue would be amendable to him sleeping at a hotel for the next two Moons? Or he could sit his final exams a little early?

Whether she reciprocate his feelings or not, the fact stands that he loves that woman and does not want to cause her harm. This still means putting some distance between them, but it might also mean to be gentle when he does it.

“Fine.” The blond breathes out. “I’ll do it, but please respect our privacy. I don’t want any of you listening in our conversation and exposing Byleth to ridicule.”

“Aye, aye, Your Highness.” Sylvain saluted.

Felix placed a hand on the redhead’s shoulder. “I’ll make sure he keeps his end of the deal. We’ll go to the gym for the hour, and the keys for the back door are on the kitchen cabinet.”

“Thank you, Felix.” Dimitri said and left.

“Hey, I didn’t agree to go to the gym!” Sylvain complains, but it is now out of earshot of the blond.

Dimitri finds Byleth exactly where he was told she would be, sitting on the swing seat at the far-right corner of the garden. She was reading a book he could not identify, but that seems to entrance all of her attention, as her usually sharp senses did not detect the large man locking the door and coming closer.

He sits down on the swing seat, just next to her, but she does not bring her eyes up from the yellowing pages, even as she feels his intense gaze on her figure.

“It is a nice day for some reading, don’t you think?” She speaks, as she turns a page on the volume.

“I suppose.” The blond man responds, not really knowing what to say. “I was meaning to talk to you.”

“I’d guess that you want to know what happened tonight. Very well, you had a nightmare again.” The older woman blurts out.

Dimitri looks up to her with a shock on his face. He does not remember any of it, except for the fact he found it very strange not to have had nightmares the night before.

“You were having trouble sleeping easy again, you were screaming and talking as you often do, and just like the night before, nothing that I did would have any results. So, I tried sleeping in your bed again, and it worked.” Byleth explains her reasoning. “I'm sorry if I violated your personal space once again, I know that yesterday you were angry exactly because of that, and perhaps I shouldn’t have done it again...”

The woman trails off and takes a deep breath. The blond listens with attention and makes no motion for stopping her.

“Look, Dimitri, I know you don't want to talk about it and you really don't have to, but I can’t let you stay like this and do nothing. It is not in my nature.” She states with a cold certainty. “However, what you said yesterday really hurt me. For years I’ve tried to help you out and never have I asked for any consideration, but I also don’t want to be shouted at and thrown around over it. I’m not hurting you, I’m trying to help you, so if you think I’m going at this the wrong way, then point me to the right one.”

Dimitri averts his eyes in shame. “I know, and I’m sorry. It’s just too heavy for me right now, and I prefer to pretend it’s just not there.”

“But it is. The more you suppress it, the more you’ll have nightmares.” Byleth reasons, without looking at him, either.

The pair of cold sapphires in his eyes gaze upon the green-haired beauty steadily and with conviction.

“No, I won’t. Last night, I don’t remember having any nightmares. In fact, I had the best night’s sleep in Moons, perhaps in years.” Dimitri says. “I only remember dreaming of saying...”

He stops talking and looks down at his feet.

Byleth gets up to stand right in front of him. Due to their large height difference, his head is just a little lower than hers. The man raises his gaze, communicating confusion at her movement, but she only ignores it. A heartbeat passes them by, and then she looks down and kisses him.

At first, Dimitri freezes, but when he realises what is happening, his hands find her thighs and he returns the kiss with passion. She places her knees at each side of Dimitri' legs and sit on them, as his strong legs are more than enough to support her weight and the angle allows for better access to the mouth.

The green-haired woman breaks the kiss. “Oh, yeah, I heard it alright.”

He pulls her down once more and kisses her again, trying to satisfy a hunger that burned for years. As for Byleth, she figures that kissing Dimitri is even better than what she imagined. His soft lips make hers ache for more. His hands are at the exact right place. She is a little surprised that the sweet and innocent boy can be so passionate and lustful.

She breaks the kiss and watch the man’s smile grow. He looks happier than she has ever seen him.

“Now will you let me help you?” Byleth asks, petulantly.

“Whatever you say.” He agrees, promptly.

*_*_*_*_*

Guest-House Masterlist

Fire Emblem Masterlist

Three Houses Masterlist

#fire emblem #Dimitri Blaiddyd

2 notes · View notes

strawberriestyles · 4 years ago

Text

Chapter 3

(Banner by sweet sunshine @harry-nofookingway-styles)

Harry X OFC (AU)

Sequel to Brutality: In which Melody and Harry must relearn how to navigate one another among a flurry of changes.

Read previous parts here.

Author’s note: I am so overwhelmed by the amount of people saying that they missed this story and these characters! I’m so touched that you all love my babies as much as I do. I hope you like the rest of the story just as much! Please, don’t forget to show your love!! Enjoy. Xx

Deep sleep had been elusive. Melody had gotten a total of seven hours, but it wasn’t straight through. It was fractioned and split into two hours here, three hours there, with an hour and a half of staring up at the ceiling in between. And Sean hadn’t failed to notice.

“Harder,” he ordered, lifting his punching mitts up again and rounding the ring.

Melody huffed air between her teeth as she pressed toward him again, throwing quick hits into his righthand mitt. She danced on the balls of her feet, circling him as he turned, pushed a pad forward. She swung, a wide hook that forced his arm backward. Sean rebounded and smacked her ear with his mitt.

“On the defense, Rhoden! What are you doing?”

Melody dropped her gloves as she stepped back, away from him. She swiped at sweat that was dripping into her eye with the back of her forearm. Her breath came in pants. She remembered when she refused to exercise, anything but yoga, where she could set her own pace and stretch out her muscles instead of coiling them up.

“I’m sorry,” she muttered. “I’m wasting your time.”

“You’re not wasting anyone’s time but your own.” Sean stepped into the corner of the ring and waved at her. “Go ahead. Take a break.”

Melody nodded gratefully at him. She peeled the velcro on her right glove apart and shook it off onto the floor, reaching for her water bottle, where it waited just inside the ropes.

They were at the gym, early enough that the people working out were mostly parents. Middle-aged moms getting in some cardio before work, dads watching their figures and pulling weights far too heavy for them, barely avoiding strained backs. There were a few younger men, though. Probably college students high on pre-workout. They had wandering eyes, but neither Melody nor Sean paid them any mind.

This was the time of day they preferred, and this was the place. A little gym in a hidden corner of the city’s south side, where they didn’t have to worry about any of Goodman’s regular boxers interrupting and heckling them. Early enough that most of the annoying gym-goers were either sleeping or otherwise occupied. They tended to stay away from the warehouse unless it was time for a match or they had set up some training with another team.

Melody gulped down another mouthful of water and stared out onto the street. The pavement reflected back the rising sun. Her eyes felt tired, and not the adrenaline of her training or the brightness of the morning outside or the rock music playing over the gym’s speakers was helping to wake her up.

“He’s being unfair, Sean,” she finally said, when she couldn’t stop thinking about the way that Harry had reacted the day before. "Like I liked that he fought? He did it because he had to, and I’m doing the same thing.”

“You know I agree with you, Melody. He’s a strange dude. Never know half of what goes on in his head, why he makes the decisions he makes.”

“So, what do I do? Just wait until he gets over it? What if he doesn’t?”

Sean sighed. He peeled his mitts off and gestured with his head toward the floor of the gym. “Let’s do some bag work.”

Melody slid out from the ring, beneath the ropes, grabbing her discarded glove before she followed Sean to an unused boxing bag. She tossed her water bottle into Sean’s waiting hand, examining the thick gauze and tape coating her knuckles. Then she slid her fingers back into her glove and pulled the velcro tightly around her wrist.

“One-two-threes,” Sean said, squirting some of her water into his own mouth. “Go.”

Melody peeled her lips back from her teeth and arranged her feet. She sucked in a heavy breath and then began her punches. Right. Right, left. Right, left, right. Short hisses of air between her teeth with each hit. The bag swung before her and she took a swift step clockwise before beginning another round.

“He is stubborn,” Sean finally answered when she began her next set. He watched her form and studied the twist of her torso. “And he almost seems angrier than he was before. Not that I blame him. He likes to keep moving and he hates hospitals, and now he’s stuck immobile inside of one. Switch sides.”

Melody slowly shifted herself, right foot forward, left shoulder back. She repeated her deep breath and then began again. Left. Left, right. Left, right, left. The even sound of glove against bag helped to calm her mind, even as she began to sweat again.

Harry had begun her training, even if he had never meant it to turn into this. Brief instructions on form and little spars between the two of them, when she wore a padded helmet and he only tapped her with his own gloves. It had only been fun, then. Just a way for him to break up the monotony of his own training. But Sean had been appreciative of what she already knew when he started training her himself. And over time she had seen the appeal of the sport, the outlet of steam, the way that it really wasn’t just testosterone-fueled fighting, but a game of the mind.

She finished a single set before she paused to speak. “Well that’s not his fault, and it’s not mine, and it’s not yours. He can redirect his anger, if you ask me.” She began her next one-two-three as she waited for a response.

Sean leaned his back against the wall of mirrors on her right. He nodded slowly. “I think he knows all that. But Colton’s not around for him to direct his anger, so…”

Melody let her arms fall to her sides, licking her dry lips. She shook a stray chunk of hair back from her forehead. She hated hearing that name aloud, hated the face it called to mind, and the terror that came with it, and the months that had passed so painstakingly slow at the work of his hands.

“One more set on each side,” Sean ordered, pulling her from her own head, “and then the speed bag."

Melody completed her sets quickly and gave Sean another grateful nod when he rewarded her with a long sip from her water bottle. She tore the gloves off her hands as the two of them made their way to the smaller bags. Sean had to lower one for her, as he always did.

“Forward, down,” he instructed her, although she knew what she was doing by this point.

Melody dropped her gloves at her feet and began a steady beat against the bag, twisting her hands in circles, keeping them up and in front of her face. First the knuckles of her right fist, then the bottom of it, then the same with her left fist. She found the sounds of the bag’s chain soothing, meditative, but she was still finding it hard to focus. Sweat was dripping down her bare torso by now. She had learned early on that t-shirts were suffocating when you were working so hard.

“I was gonna go back to see him today, but I think you should go alone,” Sean eventually said.

She paused and glanced at him, letting the bag twist around and around, slowing. “Why?”

“He’s calmer around you.”

She scoffed, picking up her hits again, faster this time, and harder. Sean smiled softly beside her.

“I’m not lying.”

“You should’ve seen him right after he saw my face yesterday, Sean. He was yelling in the elevator. It echoed. That’s not calm.”

“Maybe not,” agreed Sean, “but on the whole he’s less aggressive.”

Melody sighed and dropped her hands again. She ran her fingertips through her damp hair, tucking the loose strands back as best she could. “I think he’s still mad at me. No matter what he says. There’s no way he’s over something that had him saying we were done, not when he feels like there were only a few days between that and him waking up in the hospital. I’ve had months to process that, but he hasn’t.”

“Well, he doesn’t wanna talk about it, right? If he wants to, he’ll tell you.” Sean patted her sweaty shoulder and lifted her gloves off of the ground. “That’s good for today. Why don’t you go and try to sweet talk some sense into him? A little kiss probably wouldn’t hurt.”

Melody rolled her eyes as she took her gear from him. But she was eager to get packed up and showered, and hoped that she found Harry in a better mood today.

***

When Melody stepped into Harry’s room, her tread was so light it was as if she were avoiding land mines. She found him watching television. The image was so foreign. He didn’t even own one in his apartment, and many times she’d had to do a lot of convincing just to get him to watch a film with her, but she supposed that laying in bed all day with no company could get rather boring.

“Hey, there,” she greeted cautiously. She hadn’t bothered with the makeup today. Harry already knew the bruise was there and Vanessa was familiar with her wounds. Besides, somehow, it was already beginning to yellow around the edges. She was a quick healer.

Harry turned his head toward her and was silent as she approached him, but she didn’t see the anger in his eyes that she’d grown so wary of. They were observant instead, almost calculating. That was perhaps more unnerving.

Melody relaxed back into her familiar chair and parted the wet locks of her hair with her fingers. She was avoiding a conversation, she knew. And Harry didn’t seem all too eager to speak, either. He was watching the T.V. again. Some crime program. But she couldn’t stay silent forever.

“I want to apologize again,” she told him, forcing her voice above the mutter that it was tending toward. “I shouldn’t have lied to you. You’re not stupid, Harry. And we were gonna have to talk about this at some point, but I was hoping I’d have some more time to, you know, prepare myself.”

Because the months I had weren’t enough.

His eyes lowered to her face, slowly, lazily. She liked looking at him, even when he didn’t seem so enthralled with her. His face was starting to round back out. Stubble was beginning to peak out around his mouth, above his lip. They’d shaved for him while he was unconscious, because it was easier to keep his face clean and because it felt more like Harry to Melody. She supposed that he didn’t want the extra attention now. But the facial hair wasn’t long, and he still looked like his usual self, like the Harry who went weeks between shaves because it grew so slowly. She hadn’t let them cut the hair on his head, though, even to keep it flush with the parts that were growing back in. He looked ridiculous but she didn’t think he’d like that, letting them cut his hair when it wasn’t absolutely necessary, when he wasn’t there to make the decision himself. Now, he looked a bit like a doll that a child had butchered.

“Why’re yeh starin’ at me like that?”

Melody’s gaze snapped back to his eyes. They were dull, trapped inside this building without anything more natural than the fluorescent bulbs burning above them.

“You’re not answering,” she replied.

“Yeh didn’ ask a question.”

She let out a snort. “Do I have to?”

Harry frowned. He reached toward her, his fingers outstretched, and she was so surprised that it took her a moment before leaning forward. His fingertips brushed along the lower part of her cheek, slipping her hair back from her face, and then settled just at the edge of her bruise. He was gentle, barely a flutter against her skin, but every spot her touched flared up, and she shivered.

“Got yeh good.”

Melody swallowed against the lump rising in her throat. It had been a long time since he’d touched her like this. And all too soon it was gone.

“I don’ like this,” Harry said, his voice hardened as his hand fell away from her skin. “Are yeh fightin’ guys?”

“No, I—”

There was the sound of a gunshot. Probably just a sound effect applied to the T.V. show. But to Melody it made no difference. The sound painted her vision red with blood. Her hands were covered with it. She felt a profound ache in her chest and an unpleasant chill down her spine, sudden tears collecting behind her closed eyelids.

“Melody?” someone was saying. “Mel?”

Her eyes opened to find Harry still laying in front of her. His brows were drawn together, his fingers tight on the edge of the mattress, just in front of her knee. She blinked once, twice. Her breathing was labored, like she’d only just finished her training with Sean.

“Can you—” she murmured, nearly choking as she swallowed around the lump rising in her throat, “can you turn the T.V. off?”

Harry lifted the remote and pressed the power button without a moment’s thought. He watched her avoid his eyes. That wasn’t like her at all.

“What was that?” he asked softly.

“Nothing.” Melody shook her head. “I’m fine.”

“Melody.” Harry drew his hand back to his side. “Yeh just apologized to me for lyin’, so stop it. Yeh’re not fine. ‘M sittin’ right here.”

She opened her mouth to say something, anything, but felt herself only stutter out something unintelligible. Harry watched her struggle, drop her face into her hands, and fall completely silent. He glanced back toward the blank T.V. screen and his own face reflected back at him. A minute ticked by in silence, and then everything clicked together in the same moment.

“Yeh were there?” he whispered. He shifted himself up against the pillows positioned behind him and his frown deepened.

Melody nodded, drawing her hands back down her face and letting out a lungful of air that sounded almost painfully sharp.

“No one tells me shit around here,” Harry muttered. He didn’t understand how such an important detail had slipped through the cracks when the story of the shot to his head was explained.

“It’s not something I like to talk about.”

“I’ll bet.” He watched her fiddling with her own fingers, the tendrils of her damp hair falling forward into her face. “What were yeh doin’ there?”

“Bringing back your...” Melody swallowed around her own words. “Bringing back your things.”

“Should’ve just kept ‘em. Christ, Mel.” He drew in an agitated breath. “What happened?”

“I don’t want to talk about it, Harry,” she spoke. She sounded fierce, resolved, and he didn’t challenge her.

“Okay.”

Melody looked up from her lap for the first time in quite a few minutes. She reached for his hand, where it was tucked into his side, and he turned the palm upward for her. Her fingers were clammy as they gripped at him.

“Nothing has changed with me,” she finally said, after she’d thumbed at his scarred knuckles. There was a fierce ache in her chest that spurred on her words. It had been weeks and they’d yet to discuss anything about their relationship, but the way he’d just touched her and the memory of his things packed away in boxes almost forced her to broach the subject. She didn’t think she could wait in suspense any longer.

“Everythin’s changed with yeh,” Harry countered. “Down to your hair color.”

Melody shook her head. She didn’t smile at Harry’s attempt for a joke, and he barely lifted his lips, anyway.

“That’s not what I mean,” Melody said as the fingertips of her free hand traced up the dark lines of his tattoos. She sighed and leaned forward, settling her cheek atop the back of his hand, clasped in hers. His hands had never been soft, always hard and calloused, but gentle with her. She pressed her lips to the space between his thumb and his pointer finger.

“I love you, Harry.” She closed her eyes as one of his knuckles brushed the skin at the corner of her lips. “I meant it the first time I said it and I mean it now.”

“I know that,” Harry replied after a short pause. He heaved out a deep breath and slipped his hand from hers. She felt herself deflate until that hand wrapped around the side of her neck, his fingertips at the back of her skull, and he tugged on her. She lifted her face from her own hand and the mattress, let him pull her toward him, until she was rising out of her chair, chest against his, and he was pressing his lips to her forehead, just below her hairline.

Melody choked back the sob that rose into her mouth. She dug her fingers into the fabric of his hospital gown and settled into the crook of his neck, his breath pouring down the side of her face, sweet and warm as honeyed tea.

“I missed you,” she whispered against the skin just above his collarbone.

“I know,” he said again. He held her against him, feeling her breaths begin to even, letting her press herself as tightly to his skin as she needed. It felt like the most natural thing in the world, just holding her. “I know, Mel."

Chapter 4

#harry styles #harry styles writing #harry styles series #harry styles drabble #harry styles blurb #harry styles imagine #harry styles x ofc #boxer!harry #boxer!au #harry styles fan fiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fic #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst

85 notes · View notes

hyuniebaby · 4 years ago

Text

Relief (2)

Pairings: Baekhyun x Y/N x Jongdae

Genre: Fluff

Part 1

Your ice cream date with Baekhyun was delightful. You completely forgot about your anxiety with meeting Jongdae. When you’re with Baekhyun, nothing else matters in the world. You were consumed by him.

Time seems to go by quickly when you’re having fun with your boyfriend. You noticed it was already going dark and you weren’t ready to depart from him yet, but you still had to study for your Chemistry exam. As if reading your line of thoughts, Baekhyun suggested that he helped you study. You were at awe at how perceptive and thoughtful he is.

You’ve been on countless of study dates with Baekhyun, but tonight was different. Instead of the usual silence that engulfed the atmosphere, Baekhyun suggested he quizzed you. He told you that if you were to answer the questions correctly, he’d take you out on a date. Quite frankly, you were excited. You haven’t been able to spend time with him lately because you both were busy studying for the exams. He had finished him last exam today while you still had your Chemistry exam, so when it’s finished, you two could finally spend time together again. To be honest, you know he’d still take you on a date even if you were to answer incorrectly, but you wanted to win his challenge and earn the date with him as a reward.

You weren’t confident with your knowledge on Chemistry. So you weren’t sure if you’d be able to answer his questions correctly, but as the quiz came to an end, you were surprised you answered every single question Baekhyun has asked. Needless to say, your boyfriend was very proud of you.

“You did so well baby. I know you’ll ace your Chemistry exam. So for your final question...” he trailed off.

You looked at him expectantly.

“Will you go on a date with me on Saturday?” he smiled cheekily.

“Dork! Of course I would!”

He laughed out loud at your enthusiasm. “Well then, you’re all set for your exam.” He gave you a thumbs up. “Now let’s get going so you can get some rest.”

Baekhyun dropped you off at your house. He was about to say good bye but you hugged him tightly. “Thank you Baekhyun. I had fun today. You’re the best.”

He smiled softly, “Anything for you babe. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

As you went to your room, you couldn’t help but smile as you thought of Baekhyun. He helped ease your anxiety and helped you study. You were grateful for having him in your life. These were the last thoughts running through your mind before you drifted to sleep.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Yesterday was magical but today, your nerves are back. This is your final exam for this semester. Despite having answered Baekhyun’s questions yesterday, you’re still nervous.

You have this routine where you dress up nicely and wear makeup whenever you’re nervous about taking an exam. You’d always mentally tell yourself, if I fail, at least I looked pretty. So here you are, standing in front of the mirror, all dressed and dolled up, exchanging your usual shirts and jeans with a dress. You laugh at yourself for this ridiculous behvior but it lessens your anxiety even just for a bit so you push through with it.

As you went to school, you got a text from Baekhyun.

B ❤️: Good luck with your exam babe. I love you. See you on Saturday 😘

You smiled at how sweet your boyfriend is and quickly sent him a reply.

Y/N: Thanks baby. I love you ❤️

After finishing your exam, you were expecting a text from Baekhyun. He’d always ask how you were feeling whenever you’re finished with an exam. Just to make sure you were okay. But to your surprise, it was a message from Jongdae that greeted you.

Dae: Hey, I just got home a while ago. I dropped by your house and your parents told me you had an exam today. We can hang out at the cafe across your school after your exam if that’s okay with you? 😊

You completely forgot you were supposed to meet up with him today! It‘s definitely too early for dinner and you’re more nervous now more than you were before taking your exam. You really wanted to decline just so you could freshen up a bit and try to ease your nerves but you were also so hungry after your exam so you found yourself agreeing to meet up with him

Y/N: Hi Dae. I just finished taking the exam right now. I’ll head over the cafe now. I’ll wait for you there.

Before heading to the cafe, you sent a quick text to Baekhyun, notifying him that you were finished with your exams and that you were going to meet Dae earlier than expected.

As you were nearing the door in cafe, you grabbed your phone from your pocket, about to inform Jongdae that you arrived, not aware that he was already inside the cafe. He saw you crossing the street a while ago so he stood up from his chair and was about to greet you.

When you opened the door to the cafe, you were greeted by a hug. You slightly panicked because, well, there was a stranger hugging you! A man at that! What if he was a creep?

The man let go upon noticing your tensed state. “Sorry about that.” He awkwardly laughed while rubbing his neck.

You looked at the man who hugged you and you couldn’t help but get shocked to see it was Jongdae.

“Jongdae?” You gasped. He looked extremely good. Far from the boy you grew up with who always wore glasses and had long bangs that covered half his face.

Jongdae has shorter hair now. He was taller and more muscular. He also doesn’t wear glasses anymore. He looked so good. You were blatantly checking him out and upon realization, you snapped back to reality.

“Oh my God Dae, is it really you?” You exclaimed. He laughed softly and nodded, slightly blushing because he too was checking you out. Truth be told, he couldn’t really look away because you looked really pretty in a dress.

You leaned in for another hug, surprised at yourself for initiating it. He reciprocated immediately. After a few seconds, you both pulled away and made your way to the table where Jongdae sat at. He already ordered for the two of you, as if knowing you were hungry as hell.

For a moment, you both didn’t speak. Not knowing how to approach each other after so long. It felt like the hugs you shared were momentary lapse of judgment.

“How have you been?” He tentatively asked. He felt bad for not being to respond to your messages all throughout his days in the university. He was truly busy, never really having free time due to the different activities the uni held on top of the lessons he had to take. Rarely does he get time off, and when he does, it would be spent with his friends there.

“I’m fine. I just finished my last exam today. How are you?”

“Everything’s going great. I’ve been really busy in the city so it’s nice to finally be done with all the tasks.” He looked at you apologetically and said, “Hey Y/N I’m sorry for being a dick. I’m sorry for not being able to contact you all these years. I’ve been meaning to reply to your messages but with all the events and all the studying, I didn’t have a chance to. And when I’ve finally been able to find time, I chicken out, thinking it’s too awkward to reply to a message that has been left on read for a week, sometimes a month even.”

You smiled softly. “That’s okay. I understand...” you trailed off. “For a moment I really thought you didn’t want to be friends anymore.” a slight sound of pain in your voice was heard.

He reached for your hand, “I’m really sorry for making you feel that way.”

“It’s all in the past now, Dae.” You truthfully said.

This has been always how you two were. Whenever you had fights, a simple apology is enough for the two of you. You both never would do something to hurt one another intentionally that’s why it was easy to forgive each other.

“So tell me about your experience in the city.” you started. With this Jongdae animatedly told you what he enjoyed most, what he mostly did, where he regularly went, and more. You both were enjoying your conversation while eating your food. It was like he was never really away. You were grateful to have your best friend back.

The only thing that was not mentioned in your conversation was about your confession to him. You were grateful he didn’t talk about it because quite frankly, you weren’t ready to talk about it. You just got to spend time with him again today for the first time in years and deep topics like that are for another time. Besides, you’re with Baekhyun now so it doesn’t really matter anymore.

Time flew by faster than you could imagine so when you glanced at the window to your left, you were surprised it was already dark. Jongdae noticed this as well.

“Hey sorry for keeping you out this late. Let me drive you home.” He offered.

“It’s no problem, Dae. I had fun talking to you,” you said while grabbing your things. He helped you carry your belongings and held out his hand out to help you stand.

What you didn’t know was at the corner of the cafe sat Baekhyun. He witnessed the whole exchange between you and the guy who he has never met. His brows furrowed at the sight of you and that man leaving the cafe together. There were a million questions running through his mind.

Who the fuck was that man and why the hell were you with him?

36 notes · View notes

baekhypnotized · 4 years ago

Text

☆— [one]

summary: Baekhyun is just a man who doesn’t believe in romance as much as Byul, who is trying to give herself to him. But day by day, he will soon realize that her fleeting actions are breaking down his cold-hearted brick wall, no matter if it takes her a million years.

warning(s): -

word count: 2.7k+

author’s note: first chapter is finally up!! feedback is much appreciated so please leave your thoughts regarding this fic!! to anyone who would like to be tagged in the next chapter, please let me know too :)

tag list: @baestelcolor

[next]>>

Today marks three months since I moved to an affordable studio apartment in Seoul. With an agreement, my mom agrees to let me further my studies in Seoul on one condition, she can only give a limited amount of monthly allowance for me. It doesn’t really matter to me because I have been planning to find a part-time job in a cafe or a flower shop to pay for rent and my college fees. Trying to find a job in a city where only experienced people will be prioritized is quite a struggle considering my lack of experience but I am grateful to be able to land a job in a small cafe near my university. I will be working in shifts to fit my class schedule and the weekends.

Since it's the weekend and some of the workers are taking their leaves, I take this opportunity to take over their shifts for extra wages. This is the only effort that I can do for my own living. Next week will be super hectic with orientation week as a post-graduate student. I’m feeling a little nervous about it that I can feel the shiver down my spine. I wake up early in the morning, prepare a simple toast for breakfast and get into my work outfit. Styling my hair with a messy bun, I apply lip tint on my lips to make me look alive for today.

The walk to the nearest train station is about 10 minutes from my apartment and since it’s still early, the amount of people on the train is less than I imagine. Maybe, most of them are still tucked in bed and enjoying their weekend with beloved ones. But here I am, working on a Sunday when tomorrow is my first day as a Master student. The view of the Sunrise, lighting up the panorama of Seoul with her gleaming rays, reflecting beautifully on the blue water of the Han River is endearing to me. The beauty of Seoul will always catch people’s attention, including me and that’s the reason why I decided to continue my studies in my own hometown. It feels good to be back in Korea after living in New Orleans for years with a new family for so long.

When I arrived there, the cafe is already open as I guess, Senior Hana arrived earlier. I greet her politely and she instructs me what to for today. An hour left before the cafe’s starts to open, cleaning the place up would be a good idea somehow. Dahyun will be here any minute now because she’s responsible to display the cakes and appetizers at the display counter. I rearrange the tables and chairs accordingly, sweep the floor and finish it up by mopping the floor.

The first bell chimes make me turns around, noticing that Dahyun has finally arrived.

"Morning, Byul!” She greets with a loud yawn.

I pause for a moment from cleaning the cashier counter to look at Dahyun, with a smile stretched. “Morning, Dahyun.”

She leaves me alone to set up the desserts by the display counter as I go back to the staff room and grabbing my black apron as I wear it, completing it with my nametag pinned on the apron. There are approximately 15 minutes left before we open for today’s business and I just hope my first day at the cafe goes well considering we’ll be getting a lot more customers on a Sunday.

"I’m done arranging them! Finally!” Dahyun huffs a loud sigh before she plops down on a small chair. I give her a thumbs up, rewarding her for her hard work. Dahyun stands back on her feet, walking towards the staff room to prepare herself. “I think we can start for today, Byul.”

"Are you ready?” I confirm it back to her, waiting for her reply.

"Yes, I’m ready. I’ll be back and you can unlock the main door already.”

I comply with her commands, go straight to the main door and unlocks it, and then turning the ‘closed’ sign to ‘open’. Waiting for customers to enter the cafe behind the cash register counter, I hum to random songs while figuring out what outfit should I be wearing on the first day of university tomorrow. I’m feeling quite edgy and anxious but I pray that everything will be fine.

A tinkling sound comes from the wind chime that my boss hung at the door, alerting the staff of new customers. My first customer for today is a he. The heels of his expensive shoes makes a clear, nice sound against the wooden floorboards. He enters the café. His hair is combed perfectly and parted in the middle, looking so sleek in his black suit. As he comes closer towards me, I can clearly see a few cute little moles on his face.

This man in front of me greets me with a smile that manages to make my heart beats loudly, my cheeks redden into a rosy pink color. I let out a small cough to control myself as I plaster a polite smile to him.

"Good morning, sir! Do you have anything in mind?”

The guy scans through the menu board, taking his time to order.

"I’ll have one cup of latte and a waffle with honey on top.” He asks with a firm voice, unknowingly making me feel nervous.

I key in his order into the system one by one without leaving anything. “That will be $15.65, sir.”

He digs into his pocket and hands in a 50-dollar bill. “Keep the change.”

"But sir… It’s my responsibility to return your change back. It’s a business policy…” I stutter while explaining to him, hoping for him to understand my current situation since I don’t want to risk breaking a rule or worse, get fired from this only part-time job that I have.

The guy is busy staring at me in amusement when I’m trying to be a good and innocent staff that wouldn't have done any wrongs. He gives me a contemplating ‘hmm’ before he complies. “Listen here,” He reads my name tag, “-Hanbyul. Let’s just say I treat your next upcoming customers. How does that sound?” He smirks slyly before taking a seat by the window, playing with his smartphone to kill time while waiting for his orders. I baffle when he just left without giving me an answer. I sigh and keep the dollar bill into the cashier and start brewing his hot latte and baking the waffle.

Dahyun comes back to the front and she is surprised with the early customer that we got. “Woah, what the heck is he doing so early in the morning? It’s only 8 in the morning!”

She nudges me with her elbow but I refuse to answer her because I am busy with my work. But, she’s right though. How on Earth does a guy wake up so early in the morning looking so handsome like this guy?! And it is the weekend for God’s sake!

Once I finish up preparing his orders, I bring the tray to him instead of calling him because he’s the only customer in the café.

"Sir,” I greet him while serving the hot latte and the waffle on the table, “your orders are here. Hope you enjoy it!” I beam brightly and bow 90 degrees as respect. The guy was busy scrolling his phone as I leave him behind.

"Hanbyul.” My name was called by his husky voice, making me stop in my tracks, turning around to face him.

"May I help you with anything, sir?” I question him as he starts to take a sip on the latte. He starts to make weird faces and I assume there’s something wrong with the latte.

"Is there anything wrong with the latte, sir?” I ask worriedly.

He shakes his head before the frown on his lips stretched into a grin. I am taken aback but I sigh in relief, knowing that I didn’t do any mistake that might risk me my position.

"It surely tastes sweeter today,” he says with a hum, taking another sip. “Yeah, definitely sweeter than yesterday. Probably because it was prepared by a sweet girl.” His eyes sparkle with a glint of something unfamiliar as he gazes at me. The intensity of his gaze is making me feel so, so warm that I’m sure he notices my whole face reddening in front of him.

What an odd day.

On the first day of class, I wake up earlier so I don’t have to rush. It’s going to be a challenging day because I’m going to meet new people for me to get along with throughout these two years except for Soomin. Thank God we’re decided to continue our study and graduate together like we used to. Living in the same house with her and now enrolling in the same class. Again. But, I will never get bored with her or maybe I would, one day.

"Wake up, Soomin. We’re going to be late for our first class.” I shake her shoulders violently because she is a heavy sleeper and waking her up softly will be fruitless. However, Soomin with her eyes still shut tightly doesn’t budge even as I raise my voice an octave higher, simply humming before going back to sleep.

I rake my head for ways to wake her up. After a few long seconds of thinking, an idea came into my mind and I can only hope for it to work. I lift her thick duvet from her body and push her off from the bed, letting her body fall to the floor with a thud.

Ouch!” Soomin sits up with her hand rubbing her back as she tries to glare at me with her half-lidded eyes.

"Breakfast is ready so please, go and take your bath quickly,” I order her as I’m busy folding the duvet before placing it nicely on her bed. She fumes in anger, holding her tongue from cursing to me early in the morning. Stomping her feet on her way to the bathroom, she expresses her irritation towards me with a powerful slam at the door.

I only let out a giggle because her tantrums are not foreign to me, I’ve known her for years, a childish yet a good friend that I would rather stick to even if it takes years to unglue her from me. The only person who understands her annoyingness is her family, me and Sehun. The three of us are best friends since high school and I’m grateful that Sehun loves her a lot by making her the only girl he would have after his mother and older sister. I couldn’t imagine an unfamiliar guy coming into her life and claim her love without deeply knowing her.

And that’s not what love is about.

Heading back to the kitchen to prepare peach tea for us, I remember the encounter I had with the guy at the cafe yesterday. The way his deep voice calling my name made me feel butterflies in my stomach and I somehow wish for him to drop by the cafe again, just so I can admire his good looks again.

"What took you so long to stir the tea?” Soomin says as she passes by me. “And ew! Is that drool?! Byul, I don’t want drool infested tea so early in the morning.”

Soomin’s voice knocks me off to reality as she was standing by the fridge for a few minutes.

"Gosh, can you please don’t hurt my poor heart like that?” I say with a soft tone and she smirks, pulling a chair to sit by the island table. She takes one french toast and take a single bite, staring at me curiously. “What are you thinking of?”

"Nothing,” I say while grabbing clean cups from the cupboard. I place them on the table and pour the peach tea before handing one to Soomin. She thanked me before taking the cup from me, blowing on the surface a little to cool it down before taking a sip. Soomin scoffs. “You never hide secrets from me.”

"How did you know that I really told you everything?” I say, successfully turning her into a furious woman as she grabs the toast, ready to throw it to me. “Okay geez. I’m kidding.”

She brings the toast for a bite but continues to give me a death glare. I chuckle silently and sip my tea, glancing at the clock hanging by the wall. It’s already 8:25 in the morning but both of us are still busy having our breakfast.

"We’re going to be late!” I hurriedly gulp down the tea and put the empty cup in the sink. Rushing to pack my stuff and making sure that I don’t leave anything important at home, I prepare myself for the last time in front of the standing mirror. Light makeup added nicely with a shade of pink blusher and the nude colour of lip matte; I’m good to go.

"Come on, Kim Soomin!”

She groans loudly to take her car keys as we leave the apartment. Crossing my fingers and calming my nerves, I stare at the outside scenery by the car window. How the fluffy clouds hang beautifully by the blue azure sky, following the Sun shining brightly. Everything will be fine, Byul.

We arrive 10 minutes early before the class starts. As Soomin and I settle down in the big lecture hall, I observe the seats around me. It’s already occupied with people who are taking the same course; Master in Business Administration. All of them are unfamiliar faces to me.

"Good morning, Byul.” Sehun greets me. I smile at him back before he takes a seat beside Soomin, leaving a peck on her temple.

"Good morning, baby.” He greets her this time with adoration but Soomin only hum as a reply. Sehun looks at me curiously when I could only shake my head and shrug my shoulders to his wordless question. “Tell me who ruined your morning, Soomin.”

Soomin quickly points her index finger to me that makes me lift both of my hands in the air, defending myself. “I only pushed her off the bed. It wasn’t that bad.” I grin as I confess. She dilates her eyes and starts pinching on my arms, causing me to groan at the slightest pain. “Okay! Okay, enough! It stings!”

Sehun can only chortles while watching this normal catfight between us. I am only able to stop her off by pushing her away. I brush my already wrinkled blouse, thanks to her. I roll my eyes and divert my attention to the front. One by one people enter the hall up until an aged woman comes in with a rattan tote bag and I guess she’s our lecture for the financial management class.

"Hello and good morning everyone! My name is Lee Kyungmi but please call me Mdm. Lee,” she greets the whole class with a firm voice.

The whole class replies in unison with a loud ‘yes’ to her greeting. She then decides to begin our first class with ice-breaking session even though in my opinion, it is very lame for university students. But, I’m glad she didn’t jump directly into the syllabus in our first class.

We are separated into a few groups where I finally get to detach myself from my best friends and sit in a circle that is full of unfamiliar faces strangers. We begin to exchange our names within the group. Being around people whom I’ve never met is making me feel a little more confident. When it is my turn, I start to introduce myself, “The name given is Kim Hanbyul, but I prefer being called Byul.” I plaster a smile to them. After about 10 minutes, we head back to our seats and Mdm. Lee decides to start the class with the first topic.

I take out my notebook and pencil case from my bag, ready to jot down notes that will be displayed on the white screen from the projector. But before Mdm. Lee gets to continue her words, a single clear knock is heard from the door. She then calls the intruder to come in. I don’t pay attention to the intruder as I am focused on my notebook.

"Late for your first class, Mr. Byun?” She takes off her glasses to look at him as the person goes straight to an empty seat. I lift my head up to focus back on the screen, gasping softly when my eyes accidentally landed on him.

It’s him. The 50-dollar bill guy with the same dashing look from the cafe.

#exo #exo smut #baekhyun #baekhyun smut #recent #baekhyun imagine #exo imagine #baekhyun scenarios #exo scenarios #baekhyun angst #baekhyun fluff #exo fanfiction #baekhyun fanfiction #fanfiction #baekhyun x reader #byun baekhyun #kpop imagine

68 notes · View notes

jay-me-says · 4 years ago

Text

Things Were Different Back Then

CHAPTER THREE: Tension

Masterpost w/ more info on the fic | Note: all SBI-related relationships here are platonic!

Tubbo wakes with the sun. He hadn’t shut his curtains last night, and the window opposite his bed casts a bright, amber light over him. Despite being tired, and annoyed by the interruption to his sleep, he finds it in him to appreciate how the early morning sun turns his bedspread to flame. He turns his fingers around in the patch of light. It’s like he’s dipping them in magic. The red bandanna Tommy gave him has been sitting on his headboard for weeks, a small comfort in the time his friend was gone. The orange sunlight makes it look especially warm and vibrant.

After lying in bed for a few minutes more, staring at the square of orange light on his covers and skin, Tubbo forces himself out of bed and to his wardrobe. He dresses at a snail’s pace in black dress pants, a pastel green button-up, and a vest in such a dark shade of green one could mistake it for black from a distance. With a black tie in hand, Tubbo sleepily walks out to the living room so he can put on his tie in front of the mirror. The consequences of staying at the bench with Tommy so late last night are catching up to him. Worth it, he thinks.

In the middle of fidgeting with his tie, trying to get it just right, someone opens the door, startling the boy. A brief shot of adrenaline rushes through him as he whips around to look at the front door. His surprise turns to relief and then confusion when he sees Tommy coming through the door. He thought his friend was still asleep in bed- he certainly should be after last night. “Jeez, Tommy. You scared the hell out of me. Where were you so early?”

Walter pads over the couch and hops up, head resting on the arm nearest the mirror. Tubbo doesn’t mind. He reaches out to pet the dog’s big, white head. Tommy plops down on the couch next to Walter as he speaks. “I went for a walk,” he says, then yawns. Henry II squawks from his shoulder in protest of all the sudden movement. Tommy pets his little, green head apologetically. “Sorry, mate,” he murmurs.

“Well, are you up to going to that meeting with Fundy and Niki today?” Tubbo asks, turning back to the mirror to work on his tie. “We’re planning out the next few rebuilding projects. You don’t have to go, but I figured it would be nice for you to come along. Might help ease you back into things.”

There’s silence for a moment as Tommy thinks it over, then, “Yeah. Yeah, that might be good. When is it though? I think I’ll take a nap if I have the time.

He must’ve been out really early this morning, Tubbo thinks. “It’s at nine o’clock, at Fundy’s again. So you have a few hours.”

“Right, then. See you in a few hours.” Tommy trudges off to his room with Henry II still on his shoulder. Walter remains on the couch. Tubbo gives the dog one last pat, then heads into the kitchen. He’ll make some soup, he decides. He can reheat some for Tommy after his nap.

Tubbo sets about cooking, glad to have something to do to fill some of the extra time brought on by his early start to the day.

The sound of knocking rolls through the house. Fundy gets up to answer the door, knowing it must be the other council members arriving for the meeting, but his grandfather beats him to it.

When he sees Tommy at the door with the others, the fox is a little surprised. He had only expected Tubbo and Niki, especially after yesterday’s conversation. He supposes it makes some sense, though. Tommy should know what they’ve been up to before reclaiming his seat on the council.

After Gramps has warmly greeted Tubbo and Niki and given Tommy a big hug, Fundy leads them to the kitchen. For the second day in a row, they sit at the table and talk.

Niki places a book on the table in front of her and opens it to a recent page of handwritten notes. Loopy brown font scrolls across the creamy pages. The margins are packed with little symbols and arrows connecting extra notes to lines of text. Fundy wonders if the book would quite make sense to anyone but her.

Readjusting in her seat, she says, “I jotted down some things with Quackity yesterday while we were walking around. We saw a lot, but I want to highlight a few of the things we thought were most pressing.

“First, the water level in the crater is starting to rise with each bout of rain. It is shallow so far, but once it fills up more, we’ll get Drowned spawning. It would be easy for us to fight them off when need be, but it would be safer and more convenient to light the area up before they get the chance to spawn.”

Fundy feels sort of sick at the mention of the destruction his father had caused, but pushes it away and tries to focus on the discussion.

“We could chain up some lanterns,” Tubbo suggests.

“Or use sea pickles,” says Fundy. “It might be easier than dealing with scaffolding and screwing in hooks for chains.”

“You’re right, nice thinking. I’m pretty sure I have some tucked away somewhere, but we could ask for people to chip in anyways.”

Niki marks a little circle next to a line of writing in her book. “I can send out some letters after the meeting asking for help.”

She tucks a stray piece of hair behind her ear and continues, “Next, there’s a strip of open land near Party Island. It’s in a spot that would be easy to connect to the paths, so it’s a good place to add something. Quackity and I were throwing around ideas yesterday and our favorite was turning it into a community garden. We could plant flowers and trees and set up some benches. And there could be a designated spot to grow a few crops, like berries and potatoes. Everyone has been good about getting their own food, but it wouldn’t hurt to keep an extra source around.”

“That would be good.” Tubbo shifts in his chair and leans forwards a little. “We could put a chest near the crops and stock it with bonemeal. But that might require us to build a skeleton farm.”

The four of them go around like that for a while, planning out and prioritizing new projects. Niki and Tubbo do most of the talking, but Fundy and Tommy contribute where they find it useful. Once they’ve gone through Niki’s list, they help her write out notes to the citizens of L’manburg, calling for help and sea pickles, as well as a few letters asking specific people for help with projects.

When they’re all done, Niki closes her book and stands from the table. “That’s everything taken care of for today. I’ll hand these letters off to Ponk to be delivered as soon as possible.” Tubbo and Tommy say bye to Fundy, then leave the kitchen, heading for the front door.

Niki hangs back for a moment, though. She reaches into her book and hands Fundy some loose papers she pulls out. Her promise rings from Puffy sparkles brilliantly in the daylight streaming in from a nearby window. “Will you read over these for me? It’s a few drafts for some of the laws we spoke about last time. I’d give them to Tommy and Tubbo, but you’re better with words than any of us. Figured I would use your skills while we still have you on the council.”

Fundy nods as he takes the papers, glad to have something useful to do. “Yeah, I can do that. Of course.”

Niki thanks him with a smile, then follows Tubbo and Tommy to the door.

Fundy feels good about the meeting. Being on the council had never been something he wanted to do, but it came with certain perks. Like the satisfaction that came as the reward of a productive meeting.

Still, he’ll be relieved when Tommy takes his post back. The only reason he’d agreed to this in the first place was that Tommy and Tubbo asked him to. “No person I would rather have fill my spot while I’m gone. I trust you,” Tommy had said. So, of course, Fundy had said yes.

Although he knew if Tubbo wasn’t already on the council Tommy would’ve gone to the brunette first, it still felt nice to be trusted. He’d been worried he would have trouble earning back trust after the war. For a while, Fundy had posed as a Schlatt supporter, gathering information about the dictator to smuggle back to Pogtopia at the right time. No one else had known he was faking. Much to his relief, he’d been able to slide back into his spot as a citizen of L’manburg easily after the Second Revolution. He was sure a few people had their doubts at first, but as hard as he had worked as a council member this past month, he doubted anyone could question his loyalty anymore. Or he hoped, at least.

Just as Fundy stands to go to his room, planning to start reading over Niki’s papers, Wilbur appears in the doorway again, like he did yesterday. He wears a gray shirt and eyebags.

The tall man is silent for a beat too long to make it not awkward, and Fundy is considering asking him what’s up when he finally speaks. “You could speak up a little more in meetings, you know. Tommy and Tubbo asked for you to fill in because they trust you and value your opinion.”

The critique annoys the fox. His dad is sort of right, but it feels like the only thing he talks to him about anymore is the council. Fundy knows he was never born to lead, and that’s one of the reasons he’ll be glad when Tommy takes his post back. The other is that Wilbur will finally stop talking to him about it.

Maybe it’s his attempt at bonding, the little pieces of advice. Wilbur was a leader once, too. Maybe his father wants to draw a connection between them because of that. But Fundy doesn’t want his father’s advice on improving his leadership skills, he wants his father to have a normal conversation with him. They never talk anymore. Throughout his life, Fundy had always been able to talk to Wilbur about whatever- nonsense, any questions that came to mind. They’d lost that somewhere. Now it was all stiff limbs and awkward comments back and forth.

“I could. I say what I think would be helpful. When I think of more ideas and helpful things to say, I will say them.” Fundy allows his annoyance to seep into his voice, then instantly regrets it. As frustrated as he is with him, the sting on his father’s face makes him want to pluck the words back out of the air and stuff them into the garbage.

Wordlessly, Wilbur walks out of the kitchen and down the hall. A few seconds later, Fundy hears his father’s bedroom door gently close behind him.

Another successful conversation for the books.

Tommy had been relieved this morning when Tubbo hadn’t asked where he’d been. He truly didn’t want to explain to his friend that he hadn’t gone to bed. He feels relieved again that their present conversation is staying away from the topic.

It’s just them two now, Niki having gone back home after they left Philza’s. They walk the paths of L’manburg, chatting about the meeting. Which projects they’re most excited for, how soon they think others will be done, what they want to tackle next.

Tubbo is rambling about some ideas he has for the community garden when Tommy realizes where they’re heading. The docks. Tommy thinks about last night and how long he had stood there, letting the waves spray his arms. He hadn’t realized how late he had been out until he’d noticed the horizon turning pink, drawing his attention to his knees, which were stiff from being in the same position for hours. They still ache a little.

Tubbo must realize he’s gone a bit quiet, because he stops talking and follows Tommy’s gaze, then smiles brightly. “I haven’t been here in ages!” he yells.

The brunette takes off for the edge of the docks at a jog. The almost childlike excitement makes Tommy smile and he sets off after Tubbo.

When he catches up, he leans against one of the logs like he’d done last night. He takes one of his pointer fingers and absently rubs patterns across the rough surface. Tubbo is talking, and Tommy tries to pay attention, but continuously finds himself zoning out. He’s still tired, and he can’t seem to push his brothers out of his thoughts. It makes him a little angry. Damn Wilbur for taking up so much space in my head.

Like always, despite Tommy’s best attempts to hide it, Tubbo notices how his friend has shut down. The shorter boy places a gentle hand on Tommy’s shoulder. “You look a bit drained. Do you want to head back to my place? I have to visit with Big Q, but you could stay in and rest for a while.”

Tommy nods, grateful for the out. The pair head back to Tubbo’s. When they get in the door, the brunette half-jokingly orders Tommy off to the guest room before leaving again. Tommy obeys, finding Walter already occupying most of the mattress. He shoves the wall of white fluff over a little, then climbs in next to him and buries his face in his dog’s coat.

Curled up at a weird angle to accommodate Walter, Tommy lets himself feel all the bad stuff. The guilt, the sadness, the anger. He lets it all overflow inside of him, making his heart ache and his eyes glisten. Eventually, the comfort of the bed and the residual strains of exhaustion from a sleepless night take over, pulling him in and out of dreamless sleep.

It wasn’t really a lie when Tubbo told Tommy he had to talk to Quackity. He does need to fill in the secretary of state about how the meeting today went and what they’d decided to do. But it could’ve waited, or he could’ve sent a carrier parrot.

Mostly, it was an excuse. He’d wanted time alone to think and to worry. Tommy kept slipping away from him. First at the mention of Wilbur, then at the docks. He would just recede into his own head and that would be it for the conversation. It’s properly worrying Tubbo now, but he doesn’t know what to do for his friend.

The president walks vaguely in the direction of Quackity’s house as he mulls over the Tommy Thing. It feels like no time has passed at all when he realizes that he’s nearly walked right by his destination.

Tubbo backtracks a few steps and goes up to Quackity’s door, then knocks.

The sound of footsteps approaching comes from the other side of the heavy spruce, then the door swings inward to reveal the secretary of state, dressed casually in a hoodie and his signature beanie. A grin cracks his face at the sight of Tubbo. “Hey, man! How’s it going? Come in!”

A small smile tugs on the president’s lips as he greets his friend. Big Q’s energy is infectious, and there’s always so much of it that one could almost reach a hand into the air and grab a fistful of it. It fills Tubbo’s stomach with a certain lightness that floats up into his chest.

Quackity steps to the side to let him by and Tubbo enters the house. A short hallway ends in a living room, with open doorways on either side of the space leading off to other areas of the house. The secretary of state steps past Tubbo and flops down on the couch, gesturing for Tubbo to take a seat. The president makes himself comfortable on the armchair across from him.

“So, how’d the meeting today go? Did Niki tell you about the community garden idea?” Quackity asks.

“Yeah, we all thought it was a good plan. We were discussing keeping some chests of bonemeal by a designated crop area, but we’ll need a skeleton farm for that.” Tubbo goes on to explain the more important details of the meeting to Quackity, getting cut off when he mentions that Tommy was there.

“Wait, I thought Niki said he wasn’t going to get back into council stuff yet,” he says, absently fidgeting with one of the strings on his blue hoodie while he speaks. One of his legs is up on the couch, tucked into his chest with his chin sitting on top of his knee.

“He isn’t- well, not really. Fundy is still officially filling in for him for another week. But we thought it would be a good idea for him to come with us to council meetings. Just to ease him back into things before taking on the full responsibilities again.”

Quackity is silent for a few seconds. The hoodie string lies limp in his now-still hand. His eyes flit up and down Tubbo’s face, studying his expression. Nerves flutter in the president’s stomach, wondering what the other boy is thinking. He’s about to ask what’s wrong when Quackity finally speaks. “Something’s up, man. What’s going on?”

Tubbo sighs and leans back into the chair a little, caught. He doesn’t even consider whether or not to tell Big Q. The secretary of state had been a good friend to him, always willing to help or lend an ear, and they’d grown closer this past month. Tubbo felt safe talking to him about it.

“It’s Tommy. He’s been sort of off since he’s been back. I’m getting kind of worried.”

Quackity cocks his head to the side. “Off how?”

“He’s been zoning out a lot. Like, one minute he’s talking just fine and the next he’s dropped the conversation completely.”

The other boy is quiet for a moment, readjusting his beanie while he thinks on his response. “I’m sure he just needs more time to get settled. He only got back a few days ago and there must be a lot of memories here for him to deal with. Give him some time to process. And if it’s really bothering you, talk to him. He’ll open up to you if you ask.”

Tubbo thinks about that for a moment, absorbing the advice. “Yeah. Yeah, you’re probably right. Thanks, Big Q, I appreciate it.”

“Anytime, Tubbo.” After a pause, he says, “Honestly, I’m kind of surprised you aren’t the same way Tommy is. You were there through everything, too. All the wars, the explosions. And you were close to Techno and Wilbur, too.”

The president hadn’t really considered that before. He felt he had grieved his losses already, but he suspected there would always be a sharp ache in his chest when he thought of Techno. What he wouldn’t give to horribly fail at practice fights against him again.

Quackity and Tubbo return to the topic of the council meeting, then simply chat about whatever comes to mind for another hour or so. When Tubbo leaves, his stomach hurts from laughing and he feels a bit better. The brunette walks home in the bright late afternoon sunlight, thinking about the advice Quackity had given him. He should talk to Tommy. If only he could gather the courage.

For once, Wilbur decided to go to bed at a semi-acceptable hour. He’d pulled plenty of all-nighters in the last month, reading his books well past sundown, but his dad had forced him to bed earlier than normal last night and it had disturbed his unusual sleep schedule.

As he’s about to enter his room, he notices a shaft of light poking out of his son’s room from down the hall. Wondering what he’s doing up so late, Wilbur goes to check on him.

He finds Fundy sitting cross-legged on his bed, looking through a stack of papers atop the cyan sheets. He seems tired. His ears dip ever so slightly and his eyes, peering at the writing, are half-closed.

“What’re you up to?”

Fundy glances up at his father, then looks back down to his papers. “Niki asked me to read over some things for her. Figured I would get to it now since we’ll be out helping for a while tomorrow.” The fox stifles a yawn.

Wilbur had received a note from a carrier parrot earlier, like he assumed the rest of L’manburg had. The note stated that the council was in need of volunteers and sea pickles to help do some mob-proofing under the Stilted Sector, as the section of L’manburg built over the crater had been nicknamed. Wilbur, Fundy, and Philza would all be pitching in. Though, Wilbur’s stomach filled with a certain dread at the thought of being that close to the destruction he had caused.

“Exactly why you should get some sleep soon. It’ll be a lot of work tomorrow,” he says.

“Yeah, okay, Dad.”

Wilbur could’ve sliced through the tension in the room with a sword. He can hardly remember the last time he’d managed to get through a real conversation with his son. He always managed to mess up somehow. But he supposed he deserved it for everything he’d put Fundy, and so many others, through.

Unable to see a way to salvage this pathetic attempt at an exchange, Wilbur awkwardly mumbles a goodnight and heads off to his own bedroom. He forgoes any sort of prep and dives straight for the comfort of the cozy bed and his favorite blankets.

‘

You can also read this on Ao3! | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter Please consider reblogging if you enjoyed! <3

#tommyinnit and tubbo fanfic #tommyinnit fanfic #tubbo fanfic #dream smp fanfiction #dream smp fanfic #sbi mcyt #sleepy bois fanfic #sleepy bois inc fanfiction #tubbo and tommy fanfic #jay-me-writes

3 notes · View notes

jingabitch · 5 years ago

Text

An Arrangement for Convenience ch.5

Summary: It's ridiculous that girl groups aren't allowed to date, and are kept under such strict lock and key that they can't satisfy their desires. Enter Ha-eun, YG's solution to the problem.

Pairings: ot4 x oc

A/N: Wrote this a while back and posted on ao3; reposting here because I want to be more active on this platform. While I currently have 8 chapters written which I will be releasing on Tumblr gradually, I am currently on hiatus due to school and work commitments and will not be actively writing and posting new stuff until the semester ends in December.

Series index

The next morning, Ha-eun woke up as the first rays of sunshine were starting to peek in through the drawn curtains. She yawned as she stretched and rolled over, pushing herself up into a sitting position with her hands.

There was excited huffing, barking and a furry mass suddenly pressed against her belly, and Ha-eun blinked down at Kuma. “Good morning,” she greeted the dog, stroking his soft fur. He panted and hopped up to lick her face excitedly, and she laughed as she let him.

Jennie wasn’t in bed, and Ha-eun shrugged mentally. She’d probably just gone to use the restroom, she thought, untangling herself from the covers to do the same. Realizing that she was still nude and it was kind of chilly in the apartment, she went to Jennie’s closet and helped herself to a t-shirt and pajama shorts before leaving the room.

On her way to the restroom, however, she was waylaid by the sound of laughter and cooking, and an amazing smell that tempted her to detour from the path to the bathroom to the kitchen.

“Shit,” she breathed in awe, watching Jennie and Chaeyoung moving around the kitchen easily. “What is that smell?”

Chaeyoung turned to grin at her. “Oh, you’re up, good morning,” she greeted casually. “We’re making bacon waffles.”

As if on cue, Ha-eun’s stomach growled and she flushed. Jennie, closing the waffle iron around a scoop of batter, looked up with a teasing grin that fell off her face when she took in Ha-eun’s current ensemble. The younger girl looked really nice in her clothes.

“Oh, my God, bacon waffles sounds like heaven,” Ha-eun groaned, “but I have to pee and brush my teeth really quick, then I swear I’ll be right back,” she promised, running off to the bathroom.

“She’s so cute,” Chaeyoung sighed, as the bathroom door swung shut.

Jennie flipped the waffle iron, and hummed noncommittally even though she couldn’t help but agree. Still, she wouldn’t be her if she didn’t make a snarky remark, so it was almost out of obligation that she said, “You just think she’s cute because she’s happy to get on her knees for you.”

Chaeyoung scoffed as she went to get the syrup and butter for the waffles. “That is not true at all. I think you guys are cute and none of you would do that for me.”

Jennie shrugged; she was right, after all. She continued cooking the waffles as Chaeyoung started washing and cutting the strawberries they had in the fridge.

When Ha-eun re-emerged from the bathroom, newly freshened up, she came straight back to the kitchen. “Is there anything I can help with?” she asked with wide eyes, watching the two girls move around the kitchen in tandem, the ease with which they worked together in the small space clearly showing their familiarity with each other.

“No, just stay there,” Chaeyoung giggled. “This is your reward for doing well on your test!”

Ha-eun, surprised, just gaped. She’d thought they’d forgotten about it, which was fine, it wasn’t like she’d been expecting them to actually remember, but even when the idea had been floating around she’d expected it to be something sexual, not this.

She couldn’t help that her heart fluttered just a little, or that she suddenly felt soft and mushy on the inside. None of her previous clients had ever really bothered to do something like this for her; it had always been clear that it was about them. Which was only right, after all, since they did pay good money for her to make them feel a certain way.

“Thank you,” she said softly, as Jennie finished preparing the third plate. Ha-eun jumped to help her then, taking one plate from her and helping Chaeyoung bring the other stuff to the table.

“Should I wake Lisa-unnie and Jisoo-unnie?” she asked, standing behind her seat with her hand on the back of the chair.

Jennie shrugged. “They don’t usually wake up that early, especially Jisoo-unnie. I left more batter for them when they get up.”

“Oh… all right then,” Ha-eun said, sitting down and scooping a generous amount of butter onto her waffles, then drowning it all in syrup. She dug into the mess with gusto, moaning sinfully around the first mouthful of waffles.

“Oh, my God, bacon is definitely the best thing that ever came out of the West,” Ha-eun groaned with her mouth full.

Chaeyoung laughed. “Should I be offended?” she asked lightly.

“Okay, democracy is pretty good too,” Ha-eun amended after swallowing, cutting another section of the waffle and stuffing it into her mouth.

Jennie looked at her indulgently, eating her own waffle. She really was a pretty good cook, she thought as she chewed and swallowed. It was nice that Ha-eun seemed to think so too.

Chaeyoung huffed, though, having clearly been angling for a personal compliment. Ha-eun laughed at her. “Fine, if you insist, it’s you,” she said, rolling her eyes playfully.

Chaeyoung narrowed her eyes at her. “You’ll pay for that,” she said threateningly, but Ha-eun wasn’t intimidated, instead saying “promise?” flirtatiously and winking at her.

The girl really was insatiable, Jennie thought, stifling a laugh at the scandalized expression on Chaeyoung’s face, and she had a sassy streak a mile wide given the way she escalated all the time.

They settled into a regular conversation soon after, Ha-eun asking what they had planned for the day. It really was fascinating listening to them discuss dance practice and Jennie’s photo shoot for Chanel like they were just everyday things, which they were to them, she supposed. Still, since her plans for the day mostly involved going home and mopping the floor before going for her afternoon class, their lives in comparison were way more interesting than hers.

“Unnie, you didn’t wait for me for breakfast?” Lisa interrupted their conversation by whining loudly as she opened the door to her bedroom and stepped out, dressed in a t-shirt and pajama pants.

“Go make your own waffles,” Jennie pointed at the kitchen, not even deigning to reply Lisa’s protest. Muttering to herself in annoyance, Lisa padded over to the kitchen, turning the waffle iron back on again and then going to grab a carton of juice from the refrigerator.

“Good morning, Lisa-unnie,” Ha-eun greeted, giggling at the older girl’s antics.

“Oh, good morning Ha-eun-ah,” Lisa greeted as she poured the juice into a glass. “Did you sleep well? Did Jennie-unnie treat you properly?” she asked, grinning mischievously.

Ha-eun giggled. “I have no complaints,” she said, sending a wink Jennie’s way.

“Yeah, we could all hear you not complaining, ” Lisa shot back, but Ha-eun just shrugged. “Jennie-unnie is very talented at many things,” she responded, turning back to her food to eat another bite of her waffle.

“I just bet she is,” Lisa chortled. “Too bad she refuses to share her talents with the rest of the girls.”

Jennie rolled her eyes. “How long are you going to complain about that? I did offer, you know.”

Lisa scowled. “That was only if I let you tie me up!”

Jennie shrugged. “Ha-eun let me tie her up last night.”

Ha-eun nodded. “It was fun. You should have let her do it.”

Sighing as the waffle iron beeped, indicating that the waffle was done, Lisa used the tongs to pry it out of the mold and plopped it down on her plate. “I’ll overlook that, but only if you promise to let me tie you up too.”

“Sure,” Ha-eun agreed nonchalantly. It wasn’t like she was going to say no to Lisa, since there was a contract and this was her job and all. It was nice that she still flirted with her like that. It was all a part of the experience she wanted, she supposed.

“Great!” Lisa chirped. “Are you doing anything tonight?”

“Uh, I have to go to class in the afternoon, but I’m free after that, why?”

“Come visit us at the studio if you have time,” Lisa invited.

Ha-eun accepted eagerly, excited to see whatever new choreography they were working on.

Soon enough, though, it was time for her to leave, and she sighed as she went to put on her clothes from yesterday, not really enjoying the thought of wearing her dirty clothes again. If she’d known she was staying over, she would have packed a spare set of clothes, having gotten a nice routine down that prevented her from the walk of shame.

“Oh, you can borrow some of my clothes if you want,” Chaeyoung offered, and Ha-eun smiled at her. “Thanks, but there’s no way I could fit into your clothes,” she said. “You’re so thin, it’s not fair,” she sighed with envy.

Chaeyoung laughed. “Love, I spend more time working out than normal people dream of having. You look gorgeous,” she reassured the younger girl, popping a kiss on her forehead.

“Okay, if you say so,” Ha-eun said, accepting the compliment with grace as she hugged her. “I’ll see you guys later,” she called as she slipped her sneakers back on and walked out the door, going to the subway station to take the train back home.

As she was letting herself into her apartment, calling to her brother to let him know that she was home, she looked out the window of the living room and couldn’t help but laugh. There was a giant billboard on the building across the road from hers, and an ad for - you guessed it - Blackpink’s upcoming comeback, with a blown up photo of all four girls staring coolly at the camera had gone up yesterday during the time that she’d been out yesterday.

Taking a picture of the billboard, she sent it to the group with exclamation marks, laughing when Lisa immediately replied.

We can’t get enough of you, sweetie. Xx

Shaking her head, she laughed and put her phone in her pocket as she went to see what her brother was up to.

By the time Ha-eun got to the studio, it was almost nine, and she was frantic. Her class had ended more than two hours ago, and she’d been planning to go straight to the YG building, but had been waylaid by her project groupmates who’d wanted to have an impromptu discussion.

“Fucking idiots, always calling meetings to talk about useless things we could settle easily over text,” she seethed as she ran down the hall to the studio. She’d texted them to let them know that she would be late and to let her know if they were leaving so she could meet them elsewhere, but they hadn’t replied and she took that to mean that they’d been practicing all this while and hadn’t seen her messages.

Reaching the door to the room they’d told her to come to, she took a second, standing outside the entrance, to straighten herself out, running her hands through her hair, smoothing out her blouse and adjusting her skirt, which had somehow rotated almost 180 degrees around her waist. Consciously evening her breathing so it would look less like she’d just been sprinting down the hallways of the YG building like a lunatic, she opened the door gently and stepped into the room.

To her surprise and dismay, it was dark, although the air in the room was still cool, and when she looked up at the ceiling, she could see that the air conditioner was still on. Had they left and forgotten to turn off the air conditioner?

She groped for the light switch, sure that it couldn’t be too far from where she was standing, when a voice cut through the silence, sharp and authoritative.

“Stop.”

It was Jennie, and she sounded furious.

Ha-eun’s heart pounded. What was this?

“Jennie-unnie? What’s going on?”

“You’ve been a very bad girl, Ha-eun-ah.”

“Unnie?” Ha-eun’s head whipped around to try and locate the source of the voice, to no avail, because the room was completely dark now that the door had shut behind her.

Suddenly, the lights were on, but it was the spotlights that had been installed for choreography videos and the room was still mostly dark. Ha-eun blinked as she looked around, seeing the four of them standing in different spots around the room. Jennie was standing almost right in front of her, her arms folded across her chest.

Ha-eun gulped as Jennie stepped closer to her. She was dressed in a sports bra and leggings, drenched in sweat, the hair that had escaped from her ponytail sticking to her forehead and neck, but she still looked gorgeous. Her thought process was cut off abruptly when Jennie’s hand shot out, grabbing her face, her fingers digging into the soft flesh of her cheeks.

“I thought we agreed that you would be here at seven, hmm?” Jennie said quietly, the words slicing through the air like knives. They found their target easily as Ha-eun’s shoulders slumped. There were reasons, she wanted to explain, but they seemed like weak, pathetic excuses when she was faced with Jennie’s angry gaze boring into her.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, and Jennie smirked as she squeezed Ha-eun’s face tighter, pushing down and forcing the younger girl onto her knees.

“Open,” she demanded and Ha-eun immediately obliged, her mouth falling open as she knelt before Jennie, who was bent over her, her face hovering over Ha-eun’s.

Her lips curved into a sinister grin right before she spat into Ha-eun’s open mouth, watching with satisfaction as the wad slid down her tongue and disappeared.

“Swallow,” she commanded and Ha-eun immediately obeyed, feeling herself drench her panties.

“Looks like you can do some things right, after all,” she sneered, before lifting her hand from Ha-eun’s face and using it to backhand her instead, so hard that her head turned, her cheek burning.

“You’re such a useless whore, you know that?” Jennie purred, fisting her hand in Ha-eun’s hair and pulling so that she was facing her again. “Coming two hours late, wasting our time… do you know how much our time is worth? Of course not… a poor little nobody like you can’t even imagine it.”

Ha-eun’s eyes filled with tears, but she knew that Jennie was right. “I’m sorry,” she whimpered. “Let me make it up to you, please, mistress,” she begged.

Hearing that caused a thrill to shoot through Jennie, but she controlled her expression so that not a trace of her arousal showed as she continued to stare impassively down at the other girl. She scoffed. “And just how do you propose to do that, whore? You aren’t even good enough to fuck.”

Ha-eun’s lip trembled, tears spilling from her eyes now. She knew Jennie was right, she was nobody compared to them, they could easily replace her with someone who was more obedient, who turned up on time, who didn’t force them to wait for her…

“Please, please, I’ll do anything,” Ha-eun cried, pitching forward as she folded herself into a bow, her forehead hitting the floor with a loud knock that she barely even felt, so focused on earning forgiveness.

“Anything?” Jennie’s voice was silky and dangerous, but Ha-eun was too far gone by this point to notice the change in tone as she shuffled forward, her forehead now resting on top of Jennie’s bare feet as she continued pleading for forgiveness.

“Did you hear that, girls? She said anything ,” Jennie called. That caught Ha-eun’s attention, and she looked up, sniffling, as the other three girls glided out of the shadows, coming to stand next to Jennie.

Chaeyoung laughed, a sweet, delicate sound that seemed completely at odds with the atmosphere in the room. “Anything? My, that’s a broad statement to make, sweetie. Are you sure?”

Ha-eun looked up at them with wide eyes, in awe as they stared down at her as dispassionately as they had from the billboard outside her home. “I’m sure, Chaeyoung-unnie,” she breathed. Should she be more concerned about the fact that the way they looked at her, as if she were something dirty they’d found on the bottom of their shoes, made her drip? She was sure there was a puddle beneath where she was kneeling now, and her panties were definitely ruined.

Lisa made a doubtful noise. “It seems like you like Jennie-unnie more than the rest of us, though,” she commented, and Ha-eun almost sprained her neck with how quickly she wrenched her head around to stare at her in disbelief.

“N-no!” she denied, in a panic. Why would they even think that?

Jisoo hummed. “You let her do things to you that the rest of us can’t, though.”

“No, you can do anything you like to me, please, please,” Ha-eun begged. What could they be referring to?

Then it hit her. Of course. Still looking up at Jisoo, she let her mouth fall open slightly.

Jisoo feigned ignorance, though. “Oh? What do you want, baby? Use your words,” she coaxed, running her fingers through Ha-eun’s hair. It looked like a tender motion, but she was doing it roughly enough, pulling on the silky strands, that it hovered on the brink of being painful.

Ha-eun bit her lip in embarrassment. Was Jisoo serious? She was going to make her beg for that?

When no words were forthcoming, Jisoo frowned. “I’m not a mind reader, sweetheart. You need to tell mommy what you want,” she said, her voice harder now.

Left with no choice, Ha-eun had to say, “Please spit in my mouth,” her cheeks on fire. How humiliating, actually being forced to say the words, to beg to have something so degrading done to her. And yet she couldn’t deny that her pussy felt like it was on fire.

“Aww, anything for my baby,” Jisoo cooed, leaning forward so her face hovered over Ha-eun’s. “Don’t swallow yet,” she ordered before she spat into the younger girl’s open mouth, her eyes never leaving Ha-eun’s.

To her credit, Ha-eun didn’t flinch or otherwise move at all as the warm, sticky liquid dripped into her mouth, pooling on her tongue. Chaeyoung and Lisa then took their turns, before Jennie, once again, bent down, holding Ha-eun’s mouth open with her hand pressing on her cheeks, as she spat loudly.

“Good girl,” she cooed when she straightened up, the praise obviously affecting Ha-eun as her eyes sparkled with joy, even if she couldn’t smile at the moment.

“Swallow.”

At that, Ha-eun obediently closed her mouth, swirling the unholy mixture around before she swallowed it down.

“Aww, such a cute little girl,” Chaeyoung praised, petting Ha-eun on her head. “You’re our sweet little pet, aren’t you?” she asked, and Ha-eun, basking in the affection, just nodded, barely aware of what she was agreeing to.

“That’s good, because we got our pretty pet a present,” she continued, and Ha-eun looked up with half-lidded eyes to see that Lisa now had something in her hands. Blinking, she looked more carefully and saw that it was a black collar with rose gold hardware and a cute pink bell on the front of it.

“Whoa, where’d you get that?” Ha-eun blurted, surprised.

Jennie shrugged. “We ordered it online and had manager-oppa pick it up for us today.”

Ha-eun had to press her lips together to stifle a giggle at the thought of the quiet man having to pick up fetish gear for his charges.

Lisa bent down and buckled it around Ha-eun’s neck while Chaeyoung held Ha-eun’s hair out of the way. “You’re such a pretty girl with our collar on you,” Jisoo cooed, and Ha-eun couldn’t help but smile shyly. She definitely had a praise kink, they noticed.

“Come on, kitten, let’s go home,” Jennie said, clipping a leash to the little ring behind the bell, and Ha-eun blinked. Surely she didn’t mean…

Hesitantly, Ha-eun started to get up, but all four of them frowned immediately. “Did anyone tell you to stand, whore?” Jennie asked in a glacial tone, and Ha-eun immediately fell back to the ground, confused.

“But you…”

“Yes?” Jennie prompted when Ha-eun trailed off, raising a brow at the younger girl.

“All the way to the van?”

“Of course, pet, how else are we going to go home?” Chaeyoung replied with a little laugh, as if Ha-eun was stating the obvious.

“But what if there are people…?”

“Are you ashamed of people knowing you belong to us?” Jisoo asked, her brows coming together in a deep frown.

“No, mommy,” Ha-eun immediately mumbled, chastised.

Then they walked out of the studio like they did most nights, laughing and chatting casually. The only difference was that tonight, Lisa was holding on to a bag that wasn’t her own, and Ha-eun was crawling behind them, a leash attached to her collar that Jennie was holding, biting her lip while hoping fervently that no one saw her.

#blackpink smut #bpsmut #blackpink #kim jennie #kim jisoo #lisa manoban #park chaeyoung #ot4 x oc #jennie x oc #jisoo x oc #lisa x oc #rose x oc #an arrangement for convenience #aafc

89 notes · View notes