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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 4 years ago

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Hue and Cry

Warnings: non-consent sex and rape; abuse of power, threats, chase.

This is dark!medieval!Bucky Barnes x reader and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Synopsis: You notice a sudden change in Lord Barnes.

Note: This is just me being self-indulgent. I start a new job on Monday and yesterday, someone close to me passed. I’m trying to distract myself but I’m too stressed to work on an standing series. This will have at least one other part.

Thanks to everyone and thanks in advance for all your feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 Let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

You scattered fresh herbs over the rushes carefully as you backed down the hall. The woven mats would absorb the scent and keep the floors tidy until the next sweep. When you reached the corner, you tied up the sachet and gathered up your bucket and broom. The corridors were already smelling fresher though the task had kept you well past the evening meal.

Your usual chores you assigned to Marjorie. As the years piled on her crooked back, she wasn’t as suited to the more physical tasks. Sweeping would have been too hard on her and you didn’t mind the solitary of the work.

You turned past the kitchens and stopped. Your footsteps seemed to echo behind you. You looked back but saw nothing in the shadows. It was late and most of the castle was asleep already, the torches were snuffed but for a few and you could find you way through the dark easily in the familiar castle.

You went to the rear door of the castle on the lower green, just beside the stables, and dumped the dirt. You heard the horses snoring and nicking as the moon shone down on the wood roofs. You basked for a moment in the silver light and the brisk night air. The harvest season was coming to an end and it would soon be cold.

You dropped the bar as you went back inside and returned your broom and bucket to the cellar. Again you heard a step that did not quite align with your own as you came into the corridor. You spun slowly and glanced around. Some of the younger servants were known to sneak around after hours and there was the odd mouse that skittered over the stone. You saw nothing and went on, more than ready to retire to your straw mattress beside Elsa.

“You sent the old lady,” the voice had your heart in your throat and you stopped short to bow to your liege.

“My lord, I was occupied elsewhere. Harold approved the reassignment,” you said shakily. It was unlike him to traverse the lower floors.

“She spilled wine on my tunic,” Lord Barnes said, “and she can barely see her own crooked nose.”

“My lord, she is old, we did not want her to tax herself--”

“She is a servant. Like you. You have your work and she has hers,” he stepped forward out of the dark shadows though there was no lantern or torch to limn his features, “I bid you to bring my meals and tidy my chambers, no one else. There are far too many covetous servants.”

You were put off by his confrontation. You replaced his former chambermaid several years back but Lord Barnes hardly seemed to warm to the change. He never offered more than an obligatory courtesy and when he was present during your tasks, he rarely spoke at all. Your service had been one of complacency on both sides, so you wondered why he would come to the lower floors to search you out after dark.

“I will be there tomorrow, my lord,” you said, “I apologise for my negligence.”

“And every day thus,” he demanded as he got closer.

“Yes, my lord,” you lowered your chin, “as you wish.”

He stopped only an inch from you and you felt him staring down at you. You didn’t dare look back, that would be an affront to any noble. He let out a long breath and slowly backed away.

“Go, you must be worn out from your hard work,” he retreated, “and there is as much to do on the morrow.”

“My lord,” you bent again and listened to his footsteps fade.

When you dared to look up, he was gone. The man was always particular, even those of his own standing were not guaranteed an audience, even as they visited his estate. He stayed far from court since his injury and on those occasions he did travel to the capital, it was not for more than a fortnight.

You did not take the encounter lightly. He had dismissed labour for less and you did not relish a job outside the castle, there wasn’t much to be had in the village. As dull as the work was, it provided you a place to sleep and comforts not known to many others of your breeding.

🏰

When you went to the lord’s chambers the next morning, he was away. His horse had been saddled for an early ride and you did not expect him until his evening meal. After your tasks, you kept busy until you were due with his supper. When you arrived with the tray, he was not there. You waited but he did not appear. You left the tray covered to keep the food warm and went to attend the last of your nightly duties.

You retired without seeing the lord once. The next day passed in kind, and the next, and the next. You wondered for a moment if it was due to his ire with you but quickly shrugged away the notion. Lord Barnes did not think so much of you and his absence was not so unusual. He was a reticent man even if he was willful.

The first you saw him again was with his supper. He sat at his large carved desk as you entered with the tray and you crossed to the round painted table. He raised a hand and tutted as he didn’t look up from the parchment before him.

“Bring it here,” he ordered.

You went to him and set down the tray on the left flank of his desk. You filled his goblet and he blindly reached over to take it. He gulped and kept his head down as he picked the chicken to pieces and chewed over the inky words.

You retraced your steps to the door, usually he ate alone, as he did most things. You only returned to clear his scraps.

“Do you not see the mess?” he asked without looking up. You turned and followed his sharp point to the shelves along the wall. “It is difficult to focus in the chaos.”

“My lord,” you nodded and went to the oaken shelves. You rearranged the crooked spines and tidied the stack of loose leaves. You took the cloth from your apron and wiped down the line of inkwells. You could hear him chewing quietly behind you as he shifted in his chair.

“And you will ready my bed for the night,” he demanded as you finished up, “pull back the covers, it’s been a tiresome day.”

He lifted the parchment and leaned back as he wiped his fingers on his breeches. You acquiesced with a “yes, my lord,” and went to his bedchamber.

You folded down the heavy blankets and linen and fluffed the pillows. You took the brick from the foot of the bed and set it in the hearth. The fall slipped in through the windows and the chill of the castle was no longer so welcomed.

“I won’t need that,” Barnes said as he entered. He was so quiet, you jumped and stood straight. You spun and bowed your head.

“Will that be all, my lord?” you asked as he unbuttoned his overcoat with one hand.

“My footman has been stricken with an ague after we were caught in the rain,” he said evenly, “you can aid with my wardrobe.”

“My lord?”

“Here,” he pointed in front of him and pulled his jacket free of his left arm, “you will take these,” he handed you the garment as you neared, “to the laundries.”

You kept your eyes on the plain grey fabric as he shoved his boots aside and added his socks to your armful, then lifted his tunic as you peered at the floor. He pulled of the leather glove that hid his iron hand, the metal forged to the mirror of his real extremity. You resisted the yen to look higher up the artificial appendage.

You were unprepared to act as his footman and as he stripped away his layers it made you squirm. He rolled down his breeches and slung them over the rest of his clothes.

He stood in only in his undershorts and bent your head lower, “my lord.” You backed away and he caught your elbow. He stopped you and you hugged the pile of clothes with your other arm.

“Didn’t you miss me?” he asked.

The question struck you. You were unsure how to answer. You were used to the silent, brooding lord, not this pensive, prodding master.

“My lord?” you frowned.

“You didn’t?” he urged, “do you not enjoy your duties?”

“I am only… uncertain of what you mean, my lord. I apologise for my displeasing response but I do not know how to answer.”

You looked at his hand still on your elbow. He squeezed and slowly his palm glided up your sleeve. You shivered as he pushed his hand against your neck and his thumb tickled under your chin.

“I must confess I missed you,” he said, “I did stay away because I was upset at your absence and thought to punish you in kind but it seems, it hasn’t had the same effect.”

“What do-- my lord?” you kept your eyes down as his hand moved higher and he brushed along your lower lip.

“I know I shouldn’t let these… feelings persist but there are many lords who indulge without emotion. I assure you, I do not touch you in a meaningless manner.”

“My lord,” you took a step back and he stopped you again. This time his hand gripped your jaw. He pulled you flush to him.

“Look at me,” he hissed. Your lip trembled and you raised your eyes reluctantly, “you continue to deflect me; your lord.”

You stared at him, searched his deep blue eyes desperately, and shivered, “I only seek to fulfill my duties as your chambermaid.”

“And I offer you more. Offer you… privilege over duty,” he rasped, “I would not mistreat you.”

Your heart raced and you wiggled in his grasp. You peeked down at your armful, “I should get these to the laundries, as you bid, my lord.”

He was silent, just for a moment, then he let go of you and tore his clothes from your arm. “You would deny me?”

You stumbled back and watched him fearfully, “my lord, I only-- I am only a maid--”

“I have a dozen maids,” he growled, “I would have you as more. I would take care of you.”

He bore down on you again and you backed up until you were at the hearth, the mantle jutting out against your head. You turned your head as he loomed over you and his hot breath washed over you. His hand was again at your throat as his lips trailed along your cheek.

“A lord does not ask,” he sneered, “a servant obeys.”

“My lord--”

“Shhh,” he hushed as he turned your head and pressed his lips to yours. He parted, his nose rubbing against yours as his hand stretched over your neck, “I can be kind or I can be cruel. Thus far, I’ve spent most of my patience on you.”

You quivered as he kissed you again. You were too afraid to resist as his hand descended to your bodice and he squeezed. You gasped into his mouth and he smiled against you. He grasped your waist and pressed himself to you.

Your blood went cold as the panic rose up your spine. As he tugged at your skirts, you were blinded by fear. You reached up along the mantle as he dipped his head to kiss your neck. You couldn’t think through your shock, your body seemed to move off instinct.

You grasped the beaten metal vase and swung it down on Lord Barnes’ head. He grunted and stumbled back as he touched his head and tried to shake away the pain of the impact. You tossed the vase and it bounced over the stone as you scurried for the door. You tripped as you reached the receiving chamber and heard him behind you, his steps slowly gaining strength.

“You little bitch,” his tone turned to fire.

You struggled to get the heavy door open and raced into the hall. You lifted your skirts as you barreled ahead of him on the stone. Your thin soles slapped the mats and you hurdled down the stairs as you heard his pants coupled with your own. Down and down and down and down.

You led him through the mazed corridors and flitted out through the lower doors behind the stables. You fell into the dirt and quickly climbed back to your feet. You tore off across the yard as he swore into the air and his steps came to a halt.

“I will find you!” he shouted as you head for the wall, your only hope was the tree winding up the east corner, “You won’t get far!” You reached the trunk of the towering oak and your hands scraped against the bark as you hopped and latched onto the lowest branch. You heard him calling to others, “saddle my horse! Rise and ready my horse, boy!”

You reached the top of the wall, weak and worn and hooked your leg over the stone. You carefully scaled the uneven brickwork and the tangled vines. As your feet met the dirt, you turned and fled towards the tree line, darkened with the myths of vengeful wraiths and wicked witches, driven by the threat of a worse monster behind you, the voices and hooves an omen of his intent.

#Bucky Barnes #dark bucky barnes #dark!bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #medieval #medieval au #medieval!au #fic #miniseries #dark fic #dark!fic #mcu #marvel #au #winter soldier

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yeoandmoon · 3 years ago

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you are now listening to graceland too by phoebe bridgers! ( yeosang x f!reader )

fluff, burnout!yeosang, bassist!yeosang, writer!reader, childhood friends 2 lovers but also idiots 2 lovers, yeosang and reader run away, seongjoong are engaged, wooyoung + yeonjun have a band, there is only one bed, yeosang has a nose ring, it’s implied reader has a bad relationship with her mother, wc is 3.1k

NOTE: happy yeosang day! this was a doozy to write, but i hope you all enjoy it! its based off one of my favourite phoebe bridgers songs! :)

There’s a mural on the wall of the hotel lobby. It’s a warm toned painting of a forest, with a hint of a bright blue sky peeking out from the top of the trees. There’s a moose standing at the forefront of the mural, and a little fox sleeping on a rock towards the bottom, surrounded by colourful flowers and leaves.

The mural confused you, if you were being honest. The hotel you worked the night audit at was situated in the busy downtown centre of the city you lived in, and there were barely any forests for miles around the city - let alone any wildlife, like moose or foxes. Hongjoong said it was to make guests feel more ‘in touch with nature’ and to help people forget about the ‘problems of the real world’, while Yeosang claimed it was ‘just another scam in the tourist trap’.

You, on the other hand, was sure the mural was put there to torture you. You would spend nights having staring contests with the moose (which, to your surprise, you always lost), or you would spend hours on Google with Hongjoong trying to find out what species of fox the sleeping fox was (you were sure it was a cape fox, while Hongjoong swore up and down that it was a gray fox). The blue sky between the trees teased you; a reminder that most of your days were spent in the library at your university, or in this dimly lit lobby.

Sometimes, it felt like the only time you saw the sunshine was when you were with Yeosang.

Despite the occasional burnout and the lack of seeing sun most days, you didn’t mind the job. You were always more of a night person, and your classes were always later in the day so you did manage to pull in some sleep. Due to the late hours, you usually only dealt with customers in the first hour or two of your shift, and most of that was just directing confused Ubereats delivery people and pretty Tinder dates to hallways and rooms. It was the perfect job to work on your writing, and get your school work out of the way without listening to your mother cry about how you’re throwing your life away like your sister.

Plus, you could think of a hundred worse people to spend the night shift with than the nighttime valet, Hongjoong. Hongjoong often kept you occupied with his latest reforms and art projects, and stories about his fiancee, Seonghwa & their friend, Yunho (who he kept insisting you needed to go on a date with).

“Your emo boy is coming.”

Well, you could think of ninety-nine worse people to spend the night shift with than Hongjoong, who sat next to you at the check-in desk.

You scoff, “He’s not my emo boy.” You mumble, glancing at the street entrance to see Yeosang walk in with an ice coffee on hand.

Despite your words, Kang Yeosang was your person (you wouldn’t quite use the term ‘emo boy’, even if it did fit), and he had been since your family moved in next door to his family when you two were children. Although your friendship lately had been reduced to these late night meetings while you two were on break on your respective graveyard shifts (you at the hotel and Yeosang at the convenience store down the block, of course) and occasional meetings in the garden when you were both running errands for your families, you still considered Yeosang one of your dearest memories.

It was hard not too, you suppose. He had been there for many of your firsts, and was always cheering you on. Yeosang always made you feel powerful and important - like a powerful heroine, and not his bratty next door neighbor who cried on his doorstep after being dumped by her first year partner. He always made you feel wanted.

Yeosang grinned at you as he stepped into the lobby (if your heart fluttered in your chest, you ignored it). He had on a backwards dad cap, and he had recently changed his nose ring out for the gold hoop San had bought him for his birthday. You could just faintly see his birthmark peeking out from where his bleach blonde hair curled under the hat.

“Hello, Sunshine.” He greets you, setting the coffee down on your desk.

You set the pen you were holding down, “Hi Yeosang.”

Upon first glance at Yeosang, you can tell he’s buzzing about something. He’s leaning over the check-in counter and chewing on his lip while making small talk with Hongjoong about the tourist season.

You raise an eyebrow, sipping your coffee as Yeosang turns back to you, “Do you remember Wooyoung and Yeonjun?”

You nearly choke on your coffee at the mention of your other neighbor and ex-boyfriend. Wooyoung had moved onto your street a few years after you had, and quickly became apart of the little bond you and Yeosang had formed. He moved to the coast with Yeonjun, your ex, the first chance they had gotten, but Wooyoung’s family remained in the neighborhood.

“I babysat Woo’s brother the other day…” You watched your friend, “Did something happen? Mrs Jung didn’t say anything the other day.”

Yeosang grins, and it’s his scheming grin, “Their band got signed,” He tells you, “They need a new bassist, and Wooyoung showed them that video you took of me from that show last month. Their label wants me to come down; play a few shows with them, record a couple demos. See if we have chemistry, basically.”

Your eyes widen - both out of excitement and fear. You were happy and excited for Yeosang! This is the opportunity he had been wanting for years, but you were also terrified.

You were terrified in a horrible, selfish way because you knew if Yeosang left to join Wooyoung and Yeonjun, he’d never come back to you.

“That’s… That’s great, Yeo!” You manage a grin whilst trying to shove the selfish thoughts away, “When do they want you there?”

Yeosang’s smile falters, just for a moment but you still catch it, “Monday.”

“F-Five days?”

He nods, “I’m leaving Saturday morning, so I can be there Sunday afternoon.”

You can see it in his eyes; he’s terrified too.

Before you can say anything else, Yeosang leans over the check-in counter and presses a chaste kiss to your forehead, “I have to get back to work, Sunshine.” He tells you, his voice quiet as if he’s giving you a secret, “I’ll see you later.”

He’s already halfway down the lobby when you swear and move out of your chair, you quickly call his name as you move out from behind the desk. You rush over to where he’s standing, and look up at him. He’s confused.

He opens his mouth to say something, but the words die in his throat when you pull him into a tight hug, “I’m proud of you, Yeo.”

Yeosang wraps his arms around you, pulling you closer to him. His chest is warm, and you’re sure you could spend hours here. He smiles, pressing another kiss to your head, “I know, Sunshine.” He pulls away, his hand on your arm, “I really do have to go, though. I’m already late for work.”

You nod, wrapping your arms around your torso as you watch him leave the hotel and turn down the street to go back to the convenience store. When you turn back around, Hongjoong is watching you with an amused look on his face.

You glare at him as you walk back to the desk, “Don’t you have a fiance to call, or something?”

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

You were tired.

Friday nights were always busy, but tonight was draining and loud and you could only take so much of Miss Liu’s incessant phone calls about mundane things at 3am. All you wanted to do was go home, and fall into your bed and sleep for hours.

Hongjoong didn’t help your mood either. It was an innocent question about Yeosang, asking if you’d seen him since he visited you on his break but it pushed your mood down to a low point. You had been so busy the past few days, and if you were being honest with yourself, you had been avoiding Yeosang.

You weren’t ready to see him leave. You knew it was selfish, but you figured avoiding Yeosang was easier than admitting you didn’t want him to leave you behind. You would just simply watch his life through Instagram and consider the ‘what-ifs’ in your life.

You shouldered your tote bag after clocking out before yelling a good-bye to Hongjoong. You could see the beginning rays of morning sun hitting the other buildings in the downtown core as you stepped out the employee doors, and then you were hit by the sight of Yeosang leaning against one of the pillars.

Your eyes widen, “Yeosan-”

“Come with me.”

You stop. Your words are left in your throat, “W-Wh… Go with you? To the coast?”

Yeosang nods, “Come with me,” He steps forward, taking your hands in his, “What do you have here? A degree you don’t care about? A job you hate?”

You frown, running over his words in your head, “I-I have my mom. And… I have Hongjoong!”

He raises an eyebrow, “Y/N, Sunshine… Your mom will barely notice you’re gone, and Hongjoong can visit us.” He cupped your cheek.

You’re so busy having an internal crisis you hardly notice the usage of ‘us’. You’re considering the logistics in your head. Yeosang was right; you didn’t care about your degree, and all it would take was an email saying you quit for them to find a new front desk person. Your mom would be upset for a few weeks. She’d probably make some passive aggressive Facebook posts about you before acting like your best friend again.

“Yeosang…” You look up at him, your hand coming up to circle around his wrist.

“Your sister is there, and you could write everyday.” Yeosang adds on, “I did the math, Y/N. Between the two of us, we’d have 6 months to figure it out. 6 months, and we’ll come back here if nothing works out.”

You stay silent for a moment.

“Sunshine, I promised I’d show you the stars, didn’t I?”

You gasp at the promise. It was a silly promise he had made when you were both kids; something you’d almost forgotten about.

It hits you quickly: there’s no one else you’d rather run away with. There’s no one else you’d trust to run away with.

You look up at Yeosang, “Yes.”

He grins, “Yes?”

You nod, “Yes, Yeo. I’ll go with you.”

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

An hour. An hour was how long it took for you to turn your life upside down for Kang Yeosang.

In an hour, you had emailed your program advisor and told them you wouldn’t be returning for the next semester, and you had called your manager and told them you wouldn’t be coming in for your next shift, or any shift after that (which was promptly followed by a phone call from Hongjoong, who seemed more excited about this than you were). You had packed up most of your clothes and important belongings, and they were loaded into the back of Yeosang’s shitty car. You left a note for your mother, and before you knew it, you were sitting in the passenger’s seat of Yeosang’s car.

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

You had fallen asleep barely an hour into the car ride.

The rolling hills and fields outside your window made your eyes feel heavier, but you tried staying awake to keep Yeosang company.

“Go to sleep, Sunshine.” He tells you, “I’ll be here when you wake up.”

Yeosang’s promise was all it took for you to succumb to your exhaustion.

You don't usually remember your dreams. Though today, there are flashes of a beach, and a smile that takes your breath away. There are blue skies and if you try hard enough, you can just faintly smell sea salt.

You wake up hours later, smiling. True to his word, Yeosang is still there when you wake. He’s wearing a pair of sunglasses, and tapping his fingers to the beat of the song on the radio.

Yeosang smiles when he notices you’re awake, “I talked to your mother.”

Your eyes widen, “You talked to who?”

He laughs, “You didn’t answer your phone, so she called me.”

You frown, glancing at your phone in the free cup holder. You could imagine the amount of calls and texts that were in there.

“She wasn’t very happy.” Yeosang continues, “She wants you to call her when we get there.”

You nod, “Thank you, Yeo.” You say softly, looking over at him.

Yeosang throws you a smile, “Of course.”

“Not just for talking to my mom…” You watch him, “For not leaving me behind, too. Thank you.”

Yeosang reaches over, taking your hand, “I’d never leave you behind, Sunshine. You’d have to try really hard to get rid of me.”

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

The car ride was long, and full of Yeosang’s early 2000s emo playlist & fast food. You called your sister, who was ecstatic to hear about your plans and had immediately offered you and Yeosang her beach house. She made a comment about how ‘she always knew you two would end up together’, and it made your heart flutter when you glanced at Yeosang.

Yeosang told you about Wooyoung’s band, and how excited he was to play with Wooyoung. You smiled, listening to him fondly talk about your old friends and their music.

It was getting late though, and you could see it in Yeosang’s face that he was getting tired.

“We should stop for the night.” You tell him, “You’ve been driving since 6am, Yeo.”

He huffs, “We could drive through the night.” He proposes, “We’d make it to your sister’s place in a few hours.”

You frown, “Or... We could stop for the night, shower, and then leave first thing tomorrow morning. We'll get there by noon tomorrow.”

Yeosang glances at you, going to protest. He ends up yawning instead, his nose wrinkling slightly, “Fine.” He pouts.

You laugh, reaching for your phone to google the closest hotels. There's a comfortable silence in the car, filled with the occasional beat of Yeosang’s fingers on the steering wheel. You feel at ease, even if it's just for a moment.

“There’s a motel off the next exit.” You tell him, stifling a yawn of your own.

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

Sure enough, there had been a motel off the next exit. It was small and slightly rundown, but cheap and had an available room. You waited in the car while Yeosang went into the check-in office, promising to be back in a moment.

He came back dangling a key in his hand, and a slight frown on his face as he opened the car door to let you out.

“So... There’s only one bed.” He broke the news, a blush growing up his cheeks, “It’s all they had, unless we wanted to drive another hour down the highway.”

Your eyes widen, “O-Oh.” You glance at the key, and then back up at Yeosang, “I’ll sleep on the floor, or something.”

Yeosang frowns, shaking his head, “We can share for one night, Sunshine. I think it’ll be okay.”

Which leads you to here; lying almost nose to nose with Yeosang. Your hair was soaking wet from a shower in the tiny bathroom and the small motel bed wasn’t comfortable, but you didn’t seem to mind as you took in the man in front of you. You pushed the strands of bleach blonde hair out of his face, and your fingers softly lingered on the birthmark next to his eye.

His breath stuttered, “Y/N,” He says, his voice a mere whisper, “We’re free.”

You let your hand rest against his cheek. Your eyes lingered on his lips before you caught yourself, moving your gaze back up to his eyes.

Yeosang only smiled at you. He gently held your wrist as he tilted his head and placed a soft kiss on your palm, “I’m going to kiss you now, Sunshine.”

“Yes please.”

You felt every nerve in your body light up when Yeosang kissed you.

A small part of your brain told you that this is where you’re meant to be: in Yeosang’s arms.

You felt this way the first time Yeosang had kissed you too, all the way back on that roof in 11th grade. You two had been talking about the future; about your writing and Yeosang’s music. You looked up at the hazy night sky, and you asked Yeosang if you’d ever get to see the stars.

He smiled at you, telling you that he would show them to you one day before he kissed you so sweetly.

Yeosang still kissed you sweetly. He kissed you like you held the secrets of the universe in your hand for him to take.

You pulled away, “I think I love you.”

He smiles against your lips, rubbing soft circles into your wrist, “I think I love you too, baby.”

—————-

You had this assumption that the next morning would be awkward; that you would be stuck for the next 6 months with someone you could barely look in the eye because of a late night confession.

Instead, you awoke to Yeosang kissing your head and placing a bagel & ice coffee down for you. He had quickly ushered you into the shower, before you put on a change of clothes and were quickly led out to the car between bites of your bagel. This all happened over Yeosang telling you how you only had a few hours before you reached your sister’s beach house, and he wanted to try and make good time so you could enjoy the beach today.

You giggled at his antics before settling into the passenger’s seat for the last few hours of your journey.

You sipped your ice coffee as you watched out the window. The countryside on the highway zoomed by you, and the car was full of sunlight from Yeosang’s sunroof being open. There was a Fall Out Boy song on the radio, and you felt a sense of calm brush over you as Yeosang took your hand in his.

The sunshine had never felt so nice on your skin as Yeosang pressed a soft kiss to the back of your hand.

taglist: @vanishingboots @sunsethw4

#ateez imagines #ateez fluff #ateez scenarios #ateez x reader #kang yeosang fluff #kang yeosang imagines #b.

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niemernuet · 2 years ago

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My entry for this week's off-season wintersport fandom challenge, with the subject:

ouch - that’s a sunburn 🥵☀️

Tbh it sounded funnier in my head. But here goes nothing:

M + J

rating: T pairing: Mauro Caviezel/Justin Murisier, Gino Caviezel/Marco Odermatt (side-pairing) characters: Loïc Meillard, Zoé Chastan, Justin Murisier, Marco Odermatt, Gino Caviezel, Mauro Caviezel length: 2'200 words

"Okay, I've got Beat's interview sorted, and my mailbox is currently empty," Zoé announced, and plopped down onto the couch next to Loïc. "Which means we have one wonderful half-day before I have to leave to Zurich for the presentation of the new suit next week."

"I like the sound of that," Loïc said without taking his eyes off the photo on the screen of his laptop. He hovered over it with the mouse before clicking the next picture. "So, what's it going to be?"

"That's what I'm asking you," Zoé answered, and snuggled closer to him, resting her chin on his shoulder. "Though definitely not an afternoon on the couch reviewing photos."

"Damn," Loïc said. "That would have been my first suggestion."

"Nice try. Next!"

Loïc hummed, and chewed on his lip while scrolling through his camera roll. "Walk around the lake?"

Zoé shrugged. "Or?"

Loïc thought for a moment. "Trip with the gondola next to the lake, and then walk to that restaurant with that cheese platter you like so much?"

"Or?"

"Rent bikes and go for the downhill-route?"

Zoé thought for a moment. "I think I'd rather do something around the lake."

"Want to rent standup boards and paddle to that gelateria?"

Zoé's eyes lit up. "That's it! You're a genius!"

Loïc grinned at her, and finally closed his laptop. "I know."

Zoé rolled her eyes, and stood up again. "Don't let it go to your head. I'll need two minutes to change." Loïc's phone started ringing, and he picked it up. When she came back, he was still listening intently to the person at the other end, a worried look on his face. She waited anxiously as he finished the call.

"What happened?"

Loïc stared at his phone, a look of utter confusion on his face. "I…don't really know," he said. "But we have to make a detour before going to the lake. That was Justin. He needs my help."

Zoé looked at him dumbfounded. "Why didn't you tell him that you're not at your home?"

"I did! But he's not in Valais either. He's here, in Lenzerheide."

"What?" Zoé exclaimed.

-----

The address Justin had given lead them to one of the new residential blocks at the other end of the village. The earth around the building was still brown and soft, the lawn not yet grown in, and some of the windows still had the labels attached.

Zoé frowned as they looked up. "That's typical," she muttered. "These flats were supposed to be main residences only. But I'm sure you can already find them on Air B'n'B. What floor?"

"Second," Loïc answered, and they entered the building. The staircase smelled of fresh paint, and some of the light switches were only a hole in the wall, with wires sticking out.

"Why did he call you, anyway?" Zoé asked somewhere in the middle. "Why not Gino? He's from here after all."

"I have no clue," Loïc answered, and waited for her at the top of the stairs. "I think it's that one," he said, and pointed at a door with an empty name plate.

"It's open!" someone yelled from the inside after Loïc had pushed the bell.

Carefully, as if they were expecting something dangerous, they entered the apartment. It was bright and clean, though sparsely furnished, with all the charm of a soulless vacation rental.

"Justin?" Loïc asked.

"Bedroom," Justin's voice echoed through the flat. "Second door down the hallway."

"Can you finally tell us what's going on?" Loïc asked as he walked towards said door. "You've had Zoé and me really worried."

"Wait, Zoé's here?" Justin yelled, and his voice rose half an octave. "Don't let her in!"

"Justin, what's going on?" Zoé asked.

"Don't come in!" Justin begged.

Loïc grabbed the door handle, and looked at her. "Let me do it."

Zoé shook her head but acquiesced, and took a step back. "Just…be careful."

Loïc smiled. "I'm sure it's nothing." He pushed the handle down. "I'm coming in," he announced, and slipped through the door. For a few moments, silence filled the flat. Then, Loïc's voice boomed through the apartment. "Holy JESUS, MARY AND JOSEPH!"

-----

"Can you walk us through again? What was your…reasoning?"

Justin frowned and, with immense effort, managed to raise his head from the pillow to stare daggers at Loïc. He was still resting immobile on the bed, with all four of his limbs spread apart as far as possible.

"I told you!" he snarled. "Also, stop laughing!"

It was not clear whether he wore any clothes at all because a thin blanket was spread over his chest and ended just shortly below his junk. Every square inch of skin that was visible underneath was a screaming, painful red that made anyone who looked at it wince in sympathy.

Loïc cleared his throat. "I'm not laughing," he said, though he kept his hand not very casually in front of his mouth.

"I don't really get it," Zoé butted in.

"What's not to get?" Justin hissed. "I fell asleep while sunbathing."

"That I understand. It's everything else that's confusing. So you didn't tell Gino because…"

"He and Odi would die from laughter. Also, they would tell everyone."

"But you're actually here because you wanted to spend the weekend together. But you're not bunking in his flat because…"

"It's small, and his couch is really uncomfortable."

"But you didn't call off your visit because…"

"It didn't hurt that much when I left Bagne but now it does and can you please stop fucking bugging me and go buy that balm? Please?"

Loïc and Zoé looked at each other.

"What would you have done if I had not been at Zoé's?" Loïc continued the interrogation. "And, when we're already at it, why do you think I won't tell everyone?"

Justin huffed in exasperation. "I don't know because I just knew you'd be here. And I trust you, though I'm starting to get second thoughts. Also, you're together with Zoé, so you're kinda bound to her contractual clauses too. In a way."

"My contractual clauses?" Zoé asked.

Justin sighed, clearly annoyed that they still had not left for the supermarket but unable to force them to hurry up. "You know, in your duty as team-support."

Zoé blinked a few times. "I'm a public-relations manager, not a doctor!" she eventually said, and with every word she got louder and louder until she almost yelled. "And my support-duties are supposed to be at the races only! There's no clause in my contract that handles…this!" She waved her hands at the pitiful picture of Justin.

Loïc had lowered his hand, and showed his grin now without shame. "Also, as media manager she's actually supposed to be the opposite of discrete."

"Oh God…" Justin groaned, and banged his head down into the pillow. "Please! Just…"

He did not finish the sentence.

Zoé sighed, and turned away from him. "I'm not getting paid enough for this," she muttered, and pulled Loïc out of the room.

"We'll be back in ten minutes," Loïc yelled over his shoulder, and they left Justin where they had found him.

-----

When they had finally left Justin for good, it was too late to rent a paddle board, and they went straight to the ice cream shop down by the lake. Zoé looked over the display, and ordered two scoops of the lemon-liqueur sorbet.

"I needed that," she sighed, and took the first lick while the cashier still rang her up. "You know, Jérôme never has these problems with the women. They're all mature and sensible."

"Sounds boring," Loïc smiled as they walked towards a free table. Zoé snorted. They sat down, and enjoyed their ice cream, and the remainder of their free time together while looking out over the lake. Sail boards with colourful sails rushed over the dark surface of the lake, pushed by the near-constant wind blowing down from the mountains.

"Next time," Loïc said when he saw Zoé's longing look, and stroked her hand.

"I know," she smiled.

At first, they did not register the cries. The shore was crowded with tourists in, on, and near the water; someone was bound to shout at any time. Only when it came closer did they realise that someone was shouting their names.

"Loïc! Hey! Zoé!"

"Is that…?" Loïc asked.

Marco kept waving at them until he was almost close enough to take a bite out of their ice cream. "I didn't know you're here," he beamed. He was barefoot and in swim shorts, and his wet hair hung in streaks over his forehead.

"Same, actually, "Loïc said. "Are you here with Gino?"

"Yes, he's just returning the surfboards," Marco answered, and looked over to the rental place. "Such a pity. We could have gone surfing together. Gino, over here!"

Gino's face lit up when he recognised them at the table, and he hurried over. "You're here too?"

Zoé shrugged. "Well, actually, not for much longer. I have to prepare some stuff for next week down in Zurich."

Gino nodded. "The new suit. Mauro told us."

"But you're staying, right?" Marco asked Loïc.

"I don't know," Loïc said, "I thought that I might go home…"

"Come on," he begged. "Justin's coming for a visit on Sunday, we can do something together, the whole group." He delved into a discussion about things they might do on Sunday with Gino, and neither of them saw the hard stare Loïc and Zoé threw each other over their ice creams.

“But at least stay for dinner, okay?” Gino eventually turned back to Loïc. “Mauro’s here too. We could meet up at that Pizza place near the centre.”

“Mauro?” Zoé asked. “I thought the downhill-group was in the other valley for the week?”

Gino shrugged. “I don’t know. We just saw the car drive past on the road. That’s why we returned the boards, actually. My apartment is still full with his stuff, and I want to finally get rid of some of it.”

“I didn’t know he moved.”

“Yes, in one of those new blocks towards the pass, near the golf court.” This time, Loïc dropped his spoon, and Zoé choked on a piece of sorbet but again neither Marco nor Gino seemed bothered.

“But he cancelled his old apartment before the new one was really finished, and he’s been storing stuff with the whole family since,” Gino explained, and seemed a bit vexed. “He didn’t tell me he’d come home over the weekend. It’s not like I have space to spare for his Raclette-oven and other junk.”

“Actually, you know what? I think I’ll…” Loïc piped up before buckling over the table as Zoé jerked in her chair. “ouch…I’ll take you up on that dinner.” He smiled at them. “Also, if you want I can…ow…take some of Mauro’s stuff in my car.”

-----

Mauro chuckled, and tenderly followed the bright outline of the pattern with his finger.

“I’m still not sure but that’s either the dumbest thing you’ve ever done…” Justin hissed and squirmed as his finger strayed too far.

“Not there!” he whined. Mauro laughed, and leant further over the bed, taking pains to avoid any burnt patch on Justin, and kissed him.

“Dumbest thing or what?” Justin asked when they broke apart again. He was still laying on the bed but the blanket was gone, and his entire skin from head to toe had an oily sheen of the ointment Loïc and Zoé had brought. Mauro smiled, and looked at the crooked M and J inside a heart on Justin’s chest that stood up almost white from the aggressive red covering the rest of his body.

“Or the most romantic,” he concluded. “Maybe you could have made something like a template? Then you could have slathered everything but the pattern with sunscreen instead of the other way around.”

“I didn’t exactly have an extended planning phase,” Justin groaned.

Mauro guffawed but bit down on his lip when Justin’s annoyed look landed on him.

“I was just resting after the training and I thought it would look fun. I only wanted to stay for a few minutes but then I fell asleep, and next thing I know two hours had passed. God, how am I supposed to meet Gino and Odi on Sunday? I can barely move out of bed.”

Mauro softly sank down on the bed until he laid next to Justin, who still hissed with every move of the cover.

“Well, Sunday’s still two days away,” Mauro said, and kissed his temple. “Which means I have you to myself for one whole day. That should be enough time to get you back on your feet.”

Justin closed his eyes and leant into the touch with a soft sigh. “I love you,” he mumbled.

“And I love you,” Mauro smiled. “My lovely rotisserie chicken.”

The sound of the brand new doorbell echoed through the half-empty flat, and Mauro leaped a foot in the air before scrambling out of the bed. Justin’s cries of pain drowned in the noise suddenly filling the apartment, the door banging open, and the shuffling of feet that carried something heavy.

“Sorry, can’t wait for you to open up!” Gino yelled. “I’m carrying your stupid multifunctional Raclette-oven and I don’t want to drop this thing on the ground. How can this be so heavy?”

He stopped once he reached the bedroom door, his eyes turned wide as he took in the situation, and in the end the oven did land on the floor.

#osws fandom challenge #sports rpf #rpf #text #mine #alpine skiing

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dearkusuo · 4 years ago

Text

Ch. 1 ☆ Last Christmas

Synopsis: You were intent on avoiding your ex-boyfriend all of winter break, however, your mom and her best friend had other plans lined up for you.

Pairing: Saiki Kusuo x reader

Tags: college au, fluff, angst

Word Count: 2.7k

m.list ▪︎▪︎▪︎ 1 ▪︎▪︎▪︎ 2

Thick clouds painted the darkening sky a dull grey while streetlights began to glow over the horizon. The cold air bit the skin on your cheeks, tinting them a shade of red the moment you stepped out of the car you parked by the curb. Your fingers fumbled to button up the coat you wore as a chill ran down your frame.

You opened up the trunk to take out your belongings stored inside, promptly closing it shut soon after. The siren of your vehicle went off once as you locked it up, and you trotted to your porch, suitcase trailing behind while you dragged it along.

Flashy decorations were displayed all over your front lawn, and colourful lights were strung on the tiles of your roof. You resignedly shook your head at the extravagant presentation.

Your parents tended to be overly zealous when it came to Christmas decorations. You’ve known that for as long as you can remember, but it didn’t make you any less hesitant to see the setup they arranged for the interior.

Your hand drifted over the doorbell, leaving it extended in the air for a long moment. You hoped they remembered that you no longer have a house key and got home from work early. The sound of the bell rang aloud as you pressed the buzzer.

You instinctively flinched back when the door flung open seconds later. Your mother let out a squeal, wrapping her arms around you in excitement while you returned the tight embrace, a small grin gracing your lips. She hastily pulled you inside when a gust of wind passed by, causing you both to shiver. The change of temperature warmed your frigid body.

The living room was lavishly accentuated with festive ornaments, just as you thought. Silver tinsel outlined the furniture while a heavily adorned Christmas tree noticeably stood at a corner of the room. Red stockings and green holly wreaths hung on the wall and the smell of gingerbread filled your nostrils.

Your brows lifted in surprise when you spotted your next-door neighbour sitting comfortably on your couch.

“This is unexpected,” you uttered.

Your mother’s best friend, Mrs. Saiki, stood up and ambled her way to you. She took your palms in her grip and greeted you with a hello.

"How long has it been?" She wondered.

"About a year," you answered plainly, shifting your weight from one foot to the other.

She brought both her hands over her lips to cover up a gasp. "It’s been that long? You really should come home more often."

A deep hum left your throat as you courteously nodded along in agreement. You turned your attention to your mother with a puzzled look on your face when she lightly tapped your shoulder

“Before you arrived just now, Kurumi and I were thinking that it would be a great idea for us to spend the holidays together, so we decided to have a small party on Christmas Eve,” she mentioned cheerfully.

You gave another nod and replied casually, “Alright.” The two women often spent time in each other’s presence, so it wasn't unusual for them to plan on spending Christmas together. It was probably just a get-together they were having with the rest of their friends. “You two have fun then.”

“Actually, it will just be both of our families attending,” your mother corrected.

Your tone dropped an octave lower, “Oh?”. The implication that you had to be present heavily dripped from her words. Were they really expecting you to tag along with them?

"We thought it would be a great idea since you don’t come home a lot, and all of us hardly see each other anymore."

“Kusuo just returned from college this morning, and even Kusuke is visiting for a while,” Mrs. Saiki blurted out excitedly.

"It'll be like old times," your mother added.

Like old times. When your families always spent time together. When you were together.

It left a bitter taste in your mouth.

Your mother and her friend happily beamed at each other, oblivious of your deteriorating mood. The turn of events left you unwilling to participate in the conversation any longer.

"I gotta go unpack,” you announced.

“Of course, you must’ve had a long day,” Mrs. Saiki exclaimed.

“It was nice seeing you again,” you conceded, keeping up a polite smile. She gave your hand a final pat before you retreated.

"Your dad is upstairs. You should go see him first," your mother suggested.

You mumbled an acknowledgement as you marched up the second floor with your luggage in tow. As was requested, you gave a quick greeting to your father before you entered your room.

The familiar space was left in a spotless and tidied condition that led you to believe that your parents regularly dusted and maintained it in your absence. Your bedsheet was neatly tucked in without a wrinkle to be seen, and your shelves were conveniently organized. Frantically, you went through your desk drawers to check if they had snooped through your personal belongings.

You faltered once you opened the last compartment. The sight of a wrapped present left untouched caused you to momentarily pause in shock. Your handwriting was scribbled out in black sharpie on the gift wrap, addressing it to Saiki Kusuo.

You never did get the chance to give it to him. Closing the drawer, you made a mental note to throw it out when you got the chance.

You looked out the window in musing. He must’ve known that you were coming back today. The dark, dull sky was tainted white by the snowflakes that began to descend to the ground.

You padded down the stairs late in the morning. The smell of freshly brewed coffee wafted through the air. Your father sat on the couch, watching the broadcast that was showing on the TV.

"Hey," he said with a wave of his hand. He briefly looked at you before returning his attention to the news channel. You gave a simple greeting in return.

"I made plans to meet with Chiyo and Kokomi today. We're eating out, so I'll be back in a few hours," you explained, already halfway to the exit.

"Alright,” your father responded idly, keeping his eyes trained on the screen. “Your mom and I made plans with the neighbours as well. We might not be home by the time you get back."

"Got it," you called from outside the door frame. You made your way to your car, hopping on the driver’s seat and revving the engine to life with a twist of the ignition.

The drive took a little longer than it usually would have, as the weather from the previous night left a thin layer of ice covering the road. Fortuitously, you had snow tires installed on your automobile beforehand, ensuring that you made it to your destination safely.

Your friends were already occupying a booth by the time you arrived at the diner. They bombarded you with conversation the moment you sat down, anxious to know what you’ve been doing for the past few months. You apprehensively informed them of what your mother and her best friend had planned for Christmas Eve.

"That's not gonna end well," Kokomi remarked.

"Tell me about it. What were they thinking?" Chiyo griped. "You’d think they’d know how awkward it would be for you and Saiki since you two are, you know, exes."

"I don't think they care," you grumbled in a distressed tone.

You crossed your arms over your chest, brooding over the unwanted encounter that was sure to happen.

"So, what are you gonna do?" Kokomi asked.

You shrugged wearily before responding, "I’ll probably stay for a bit, then dip whenever I can."

There was a high chance that you’d somehow get roped back into the party, but you currently didn’t have any other solutions to your dilemma. Anything was fine as long as you could spend as little time with him as possible.

A ruminating silence fell between the three of you.

“When did you guys break up again?” Chiyo inquired.

“Last year, on winter break. Around this time of the season.”

You directed your focus on the plate of food you ordered as memories of the previous December flooded your mind. Your nose crinkled in concentration.

“It must’ve been hard for you guys to be in a long-distance relationship,” Chiyo pronounced with a long sigh.

The distance was never an issue for the two of you since he could teleport to your location anytime.

“Yeah,” you mumbled.

Towards the end of the relationship, it felt like you were the only one who cared enough to keep things afloat. You gave it your all while he usually lacked the initiative to make an effort out of the limited time your college workload would allow.

But it’s not like everything was his fault. You had to admit that you often pushed past his comfort zone when he was content with just spending the day peacefully at home with you.

It was your dynamic that ultimately convinced you to break up with him. The two of you simply weren’t compatible together.

You quietly chewed on your food as you listened to the carefree chatter of Kokomi and Chiyo.

You parked the car by the curb of your house. Snowflakes fluttered to the ground once again as you stepped out of the driver’s seat. You hurriedly walked to your front door, eager to get out of the freezing weather.

There was no response when you rang the buzzer.

You let out a frustrated groan as you remembered your dad saying no one would be home when you returned. They didn’t even bother to leave a spare key for you.

You pulled out your phone, scrolling through your contacts to seek temporary shelter from a friend. Chiyo would only pry into your love life again, and you didn’t like running into Kokomi's brother.

At this point, your best option was to stay in a random store for the next couple of hours. Your teeth began to chatter as you walked back to the front gate, ready to start your car once again.

"Oh? Look who we have here."

Your head intuitively whipped around to the source of the voice. A man with pale blonde hair strode towards you. The headgear on his head strikingly stood out.

"Kusuke? What are you doing here?" you queried.

He cocked his head to one side at your bewildered gaze.

"Did nobody tell you I was visiting for a few weeks?”

Your eyes widened in realization as you recalled the previous night when Mrs. Saiki passingly declared that her eldest son would be returning for the holidays.

“Are you locked out?" he probed, observing your shivering frame.

You nodded timidly, unconsciously pulling your coat tighter over your torso.

"Why don't you come stop by for a bit while you wait for your parents?"

You grimaced. Knowing Kusuo, he was probably at home, minding his own business, and an interruption from both you and his brother would only put him in a foul mood. Likewise, you’d rather avoid him if you could help it.

"No, that's fine. I'll just wait at a friend's house," you insisted, shaking your head in refusal.

"But I'm guessing none of your friends are available."

You gritted your teeth. It was always difficult to break free from Kusuke’s snare. Judging by the smirk that crept on his face, he knew that his assumption was correct. Reluctantly, you let him usher you into the Saiki residence.

Kusuke offered you a cup of tea while you patiently sat on the couch. The heat it emanated warmed your numb fingers back to life. Your eyes roamed the living room that was decorated so extravagantly, it rivalled your own. At the back of your mind, you wondered if Kusuo had teleported someplace else while you remained in his house.

Kusuke asked you simple questions about your college experience, people you met, and your part-time job. He was being polite enough that you almost felt bad for anticipating he'd ruin the moment by being his usual overbearing self.

"Are you seeing anyone at the moment?" Kusuke inquired.

There it is.

You didn't see how that was any of his business. A short pause lingered between you two as you kept your mouth shut. You quirked an eyebrow up in bewilderment, waiting to see where he was getting at.

"Why don't you consider going out with me?" He grinned mischievously.

"That's a lame joke, even for you," you retorted.

"How can you be so sure that I'm joking?"

You scowled at him. Kusuke didn't like people. That was enough for you to believe that he was fooling around just to get a reaction out of you.

'What do you think you're doing?' a familiar voice rang in your mind, provoking your muscles to tense up and your jaw to lock.

He appeared out of thin air. The sight of green lenses and antennae poking out of pink hair caused you to internally panic.

"Kusuo, I was just having a chat with our lovely neighbour here." Kusuke gestured to you.

'Seems like harassment to me,' Kusuo scoffed.

"Don't be like that. It’s not like I had any ulterior motives." Kusuke chuckled. He turned to you again and imparted with a smile, "Don't take anything I've said to heart. I was just teasing you."

You figured as much, but you still couldn't help the annoyed huff you let out.

"Did you come down here because you were feeling left out? Do you wanna join in?" Kusuke asked his little brother in a disdaining tone.

Kusuo glared at the blonde man as he quipped, 'No. I’m here to tell you to be quiet. I can hear you from upstairs.' He shifted his attention to you. The blank expression on his face caused you to fidget under his gaze.

"I got locked out of my house, so Kusuke invited me to stay here while I wait for my parents to come home," you rambled, glancing down at your lap. Although he probably already knew that.

'I'll unlock the door for you.'

Kusuo's footsteps lightly echoed off the wooden floor. You looked up after a few seconds to see him waiting expectantly for you by the exit.

Placing down the unfinished cup of tea on the coffee table, you scrambled up from the couch. You waved goodbye to Kusuke before following his younger brother outside, softly trudging on the snow beside him.

“You look well,” you commented.

Kusuo only gave you a curt nod, a strained silence following soon after.

What did you expect? He wouldn’t bother wasting time on small talk with his ex when he was already so eager to kick you out of his house.

Both of you halted when you reached your porch. The sound of a click went off as Kusuo's hand hovered over the lock.

“Thank you,” you politely murmured, letting out a sigh in gratitude. You brazenly stole a glance at him from the corner of your eye. Kusuo's lips were pressed into a thin line, and his eyes were downcast, as though he were contemplating deeply. You thought nothing of it, returning your gaze forward.

Twisting the knob, you pushed the door open and stepped inside your home. You turned your head over your shoulder to say a coy goodbye, but no words escaped your lips.

He leaned into you, stopping a few inches from your face. Your breath caught in your throat at the intense look he gave you. Your heart skipped a beat as your body ignored your brain’s protests telling you to move.

‘Are you doing alright?’ he mused.

You could only nod in reply.

‘I see.’

His brows furrowed the slightest bit as he pulled back. If you hadn’t known him for years, you might not have noticed the flickering emotion on his face. You turned your body around to get a better look at him.

Was he worried for you? It was a possibility. The two of you left on a bad note after all, and Kusuo never liked hurting someone’s feelings. Even if he didn’t care for that person anymore.

‘That’s not the case.’

"Huh?"

He vanished before your sight, leaving you standing by the door frame. The cold air breezed into your home as you wondered what he meant.

#saiki x reader #saiki k x reader #saiki kusuo x reader #saiki #saiki k #saiki kusuo #saiki no psi nan #the disastrous life of saiki k.

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shotofire · 4 years ago

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Dream Catcher

•LEVI ACKERMAN x READER

•Overview: In which you own a stand to sell dream catchers, and Levi takes an interest in the concept

•Warning: Cursing, angst, mentions of sex, descriptive gore

•Season: Not specified

It had been going on for weeks now. Levi Ackerman would wake up pretty much every night covered in sweat and breathing so fast as if the air might run out. Nightmares were nothing new to him at this point. They came and went, but it had been a few years since they’d been this bad.

He wasn’t sure what had triggered the dreams. A mission hadn’t occurred in almost two months believe it or not. The reoccurring nightmares were always the same, down to the details. It started with him in a beautiful field filled with flowers, and the sun was warming his skin.

The peace in the beginning was always short lived, and soon he’d hear a terrified scream erupt behind him. The mood of the fresh air would change immediately, and everything around him had changed in the blink of an eye. Instead of a field filled with flowers it was a field scattered with dead bodies. It seemed to go on for miles, bodies covered in their own blood.

Scream after scream filled the air leaving no room for silence. He would watch as titans snatched up his friends and chewed their body parts like candy. He wanted to help them and he was skilled enough to do so, but his feet couldn’t move.

Everyone would be screaming his name and begging him for help. But the ground acted as if it were glue, keeping him in place as he watched everyone die. Every last person in the field would be ripped apart at ease, leaving him the last one alive. Tears would be streaming down his face as he saw the faces of everyone he cared about with fear struck expressions that would stare back at him.

The titans wouldn’t pay any mind to him. He’d be left alone with no one to care about, no one to love. Even though Levi would die before he admitted it, his greatest fear is to be alone. It’s not the fear of dying that leaves him paralyzed, why would he be scared of the inevitable? Being alone is avoidable and a more logical fear in his opinion.

Once a titan looked at him with a gut wrenching smile he’d sit up in his bed at full speed. His shirtless chest would be hot to the touch and sticky with sweat. There had been a few times he’d woken up with dried tears on his cheeks, or still in the middle of crying.

He pushed it aside at first thinking they’d just go away on their own and he’d be fine. None of his nightmares lasted more than a solid week because he’d find someway to get over them. But once it hit almost a month he was beginning to worry. His lack of sleep was catching up to him, and the bags under his eyes were prominent.

Hanji had bugged him about it for about a week now. She constantly pointed out his dark circles and how slow he was starting to move. The women went as far as to call him ‘an old man’ just so he may tell her what’s going on.

“You look older today,” she whispered in his ear, as he drank some coffee, causing him to jump in surprise.

Levi rolled his eyes once he knew who it was. She just never seemed to go a minute without saying something. He’s been in the dining hall for maybe an hour and she’d already insulted him five times.

“Maybe it’s because i’m getting older,” he grumbles in annoyance.

She sits across from him with a loud thud. Her hands immediately reach across the table to grab his wrists which nearly causes him to drop his coffee. The man didn’t even have the energy to ask what the hell she was doing. Her eyes began scanning his face swiftly, taking in every detail.

“When was the last time you had a good nights sleep?” She asks before letting her tight grip on his wrists go.

He scoffs as if what she was talking about was way off. She basically jumps across the table to smack her palms on either side of his face, squishing it a bit. He grabs her wrists to move her grip but it’s no use, he was too tired and she was far too determined.

“I heard you gasp in your room last night when I was going to get a drink,” she says with narrowed eyes, “and I know you aren’t getting laid so it had to have been a nightmare.”

His mouth hands open at the somewhat insulting words that came out of Hanji’s mouth. How would she know he wasn’t getting anything? He pushed his eyebrows together in a knot and wanted to tell her to fuck off, but he kept himself together.

“So what if I did, it’s not a big deal,” he mumbles and she finally lets go of his face.

“It kinda is a big deal if it’s been going on for weeks,” she says while waving her hands in the air, “eye bags like those don’t form over night.”

He looks down at the wooden table so she’ll stop pointing out and looking at his sleepy features. He’s fully aware of how bad he looks but he’s too stubborn to get help. Hanji knows of Levi’s ways and that’s why she’s trying to annoy the hell out of him. She thinks if she bothers him enough he’ll seek help just for her to leave him alone.

“I know a way your nightmares can go away,” she says with her tone laced in excitement, “get a dream catcher!”

The man had never heard of a dream catcher. For a second he thought it was a drug, he wouldn’t put it past Hanji to try something ‘in the name of science.’ His confused features become prominent and she realizes she should probably explain what this dream catcher is.

“About a month ago I was having this awful dream and it kept going on and on. So I went into town to see a doctor for some strong sleeping medicine and then I saw this colorful sign that said,” she stood up to show how big the sign was, “dream catchers for sale!”

Levi was still beyond confused at this point. And his annoyance with how much energy she had this early in the morning was growing. He just wanted to walk away and get some paperwork done, and then hopefully be able to fall asleep without disruptions. Deep down he knew the dream was just going to happen again.

“The girl there will explain it to you, she will do a lot better job than me, but basically they get rid of your bad dreams,” the smile on her face was huge.

That’s when Levi became interested. So all he didn’t to do was get a dream catcher and this would all go away? It seemed easy enough. Hanji noticed the way his shoulder perked up and her smile only grew.

“It’s right next to that little tavern I forced you to go to with me that one morning, and it’s impossible to miss the sign,” she beams, “also the girl is cute, so you may leave with another prize.”

She wiggles her eyebrows and Levi can’t help but roll his eyes at the crazy women. She stands up quickly before strutting out of the room feeling victorious.

“Thank you Hanji,” Levi whispers just enough for her to hear.

“You’re welcome,” she sings back.

He’s left alone with his thoughts. Was he really going to go see whatever the hell Hanji was talking about? When it comes down to it she didn’t explain what it looked like or if it was a damn drug. He really was going into this blind, but his need for sleep was far too high to not atleast check it out.

Going into town wasn’t his favorite thing to do whatsoever. Most of the time he wouldn’t be seen walking around. Hanji would have to beg for hours, sometimes days, for him to leave base with her. In all the years of knowing him she’d only succeeded a handful of times.

Yet here he was walking through town with his hands stuffed into his pockets. It was rather noisy and crowded, which is what he hated the most. The sun was shining and children were out playing, running in the streets like no one else was around. He had nearly ate shit when a little girl ran infront of him as if he wasn’t there.

“I’m gonna go crazy,” he mumbled to himself.

Right as he turned the corner he saw that sign Hanji had described to him. Swirls of pink, purple, and blue were painted onto it and white block letters spelled out ‘Dream Catchers For Sale!’ His eyes observed the little stand and watches as a women handed the young girl money with a big smile on her face.

Once the women walked away and no one was occupying it he began making his way in that direction. The girl had turned her back before he’d gotten there, he could only guess she was putting away the money. When she turned back around her eyes widened and she jumped at his presence. The girls cheeks heated up as soon as she realized what she did.

“I’m sorry, I just didn’t hear you come up and got a bit startled,” she says nervously.

Levi half smiles at the girl, and he kinda surprised himself with his own actions. He finds her awfully cute which he didn’t see coming. It had been a few years since he admitted to finding someone attractive. He looks behind her to see some sort of art, maybe, hanging on nails imbedded in wood. The girl had gotten a big slab of wood and painted it with the same colors as her sign.

“How can I help you?” She asks with a warm smile that makes his heart skip a beat. What the hell is going on with him right now?

“My uh,” he thought for a second, “my friend told me about this thing called a dream catcher. I wanted to get one possibly.”

She smiles and nods, happy to help someone.

“Well i’m (y/n) and i’d be glad to help you,” she beams.

Levi can’t help but abserve her beauty, and her name had a nice ring to it. She turned around to grab one of the objects hanging on the wall before bringing it back to him. She sets it down on the small table infront of her so he can get a better look.

He observes the object and found it rather interesting. There was a large circle at the top, appearing to be made out of wood, that had red string wrapped around and across it to create abstract patterns. More red string hung off the bottom of it, and at the end of those strings were white and grey feathers.

(y/n) watches as his eyes scan over it in curiosity. She loves the looks on people’s faces when they take in every detail of her hard work. He then looks up at her to see she’s looking at him, and his heart beat increases a bit.

“I’m Levi by the way,” he says, “And i’m guessing this is the so called dream catcher?”

She didn’t expect the stranger to tell her his name but she was glad he did.

“Nice to meet you Levi, and yes it is! Would you like me to explain the dream catcher a bit?” She says excitedly with her same smile that got prettier by the minute.

His answer comes in a nod.

“So, a dream catcher is supposed to prevent you from having nightmares, and it’s the healthy option too. Getting medicine you know little about can be dangerous and have negative effects,” she explains.

Levi can’t help but watch the way her lips move and eyes light up. She was rather endearing and knew how to keep your attention with her sweetness. He could tell she found joy in helping people, and he found that admirable.

“It’s not proven to work so don’t come yelling at me tomorrow if you still struggle to sleep,” she giggles, “it’s more of a positive energy object. If you put faith into it and wish it to work it most likely will, that’s what my grandmother always told me. Plus i’ll be handing it off to you with my positive energy!”

He couldn’t help but smile at how excited her tone was. She was happy to help him, a stranger, with her little creation.

“Basically just keep an open mind and gather up all of your positivity,” she says, “Oh and also you hang it on your wall, preferably near your bed. Even better if it’s above your head.”

She was sorta rambling due to the fact she found Levi extremely attractive. It’d been awhile since a man had found his way to her stand, let alone one who had such perfect features. Sure she’d noticed the bags under his eyes but she knew that was the reason he was here.

“Well uh, i’ll take it. Thank you for explaining to me (y/n),” he smiles softly.

The way her name rolled off his tongue sent a chill up her spine. His voice was so deep and smooth, she wanted to hear it in other ways. She pinched her wrist at the dirty thought that was beginning to creep into her head. This man could be crazy for all she knows.

Before she can tell him the price he’s already digging in his pocket and setting the money on the table. She could quickly tell it was more than what she charged.

“Let me get you your change-“ “No, keep it.”

Her cheeks heat up at his kindness. She was struggling financially right now, not many people found her business appealing.

“Actually,” he grabs more money and puts it with the stack on the table, “I’ll take two more.”

(y/n) can’t help but smile brightly at his actions. She grabs two more for him and puts all the dream catchers in a small basket then sets a note on top that Levi didn’t seem to notice. She hands it off to him and he smiles back at her.

“Thank you so much,” she says with her sweet voice that Levi found comforting.

“Of course,” he says, “I’ll be back tomorrow to tell you if it worked for me, but it’s more of an excuse to see you again.”

Her eyes widen at his words and she’s sure her face reached a shade of red that it never had before. He watches as her features get all flustered at his words and he smirks. This girl truly was adorable and he had to come see her again.

“Have a nice rest of your day (y/n),” he says before turning his back and walking off.

“Y-You too,” she stutters. In that moment she wanted to face palm herself for being such a flustered mess. She’s just met him maybe fifteen minutes ago and he already had an effect of her.

That night Levi hung all three dream catchers on the wall above his headboard. When he went to put the basket on his desk he noticed the small yellow tinted piece of paper laying on the bottom, face down. He picks it up and sees the neat handwriting spread across it.

Thank you for supporting my business!

My positive energy is rooting for you to have a good nights sleep!

Levi smiles at the words, she were awfully kind. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to stop himself from going to see you tomorrow, even if he had things to do. Her sweat voice range through his head as his eye lids became heavy. He laid down and it only took him a few seconds to fall into a deep sleep.

Tonight was the first night in weeks that Levi slept peacefully. There were no bad dreams, and no seeing his friends die. He’d slept so soundly then when he woke up he was kind of confused. That’s when it hit him, he’d just gotten a full night of sleep with no interruptions.

He stretched his body and it felt amazing. His eyes didn’t feel like bricks in his face, his head wasn’t pounding, and his body felt loose instead of stiff. He looked up at the dream catchers with a small smile on his face. The girls little creation had actually worked, but he thought it was her kindness that contributed to the good nights sleep.

Later that day he walked back to (y/n)’s stand and praised her for his good nights sleep. The blush on her face never seemed to leave the whole time they talked. And Levi couldn’t remember that last time he’d laughed this much during a conversation. If anyone who knew him saw him right now they’d think he was filled to the brim with alcohol. That’d be the only thing they could think of to make his personality do a three-sixty.

Levi ended up asking (y/n) to get coffee with him the next morning. It was the start to a beautiful relationship.

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forthehpfanboys · 4 years ago

Text

Sweeter Than Sugar

Pair: Cedric Diggory x Reader; they/them.

Summary: Cedric knew he shouldn't. Everyone knew he shouldn't, but he did. He fell for a Slytherin and there was really no going back. Luckily for him, you were.. Soft. Towards him, anyway.

Warnings: Swearing, pining Cedric.

Notes: Reader is badass/kinda punky. My first Cedric story so please enjoy!

~DO NOT REPOST ANYWHERE~

Cedric couldn’t answer the most basic questions about you. All he knew was that he really, really wanted to get to know you. Like so bad his friends were tempted to throw him into the Black Lake with how often he spoke about you. He wanted to tell himself that the reason he was pining fascinated with you was because of the rush he received when being so close to someone the half-bloods and muggle borns called a ‘bad boy’, but he knew it was so much deeper than that. He wanted to hate it, he wanted to hate you, but he couldn’t.

You were special. It was clearer than crystal. You were from a pureblood family, no shock there, and sorted into the house full of snakes but once he saw your fist connect with Goyle’s jaw, he, and everyone else at Hogwarts, knew you were different. The brunette found himself questioning so much every time he gazed at you. Your painted nails, the vast abundance of bracelets covering your arms like sleeves, the black boots, the confidence- you knew you were powerful.

The one thing you didn’t know, however, was how you wiggled your way into Golden Boys head like a dumb muggle jingle and basically held free real estate there. He wasn’t one for sitting and watching on the side lines, but you were intimidating. He wasn’t scared of you, but more so scared of being on your bad side. Cedric did not want to be on the receiving end of that hit. He could still hear the thunk of Goyle’s body crashing to the ground, and see the soul leave Draco’s body after the thunk.

The brunette shook his head at the thought and awkwardly cleared his throat. He planned on talking to you for the first time today, determined to get some of those basic questions (what’s your favorite color? Favorite animal? Do you prefer snogging boys or girls? Are you good at potions?) answered. He fixed his scarf and uniform for the fifth time, his eyes casted down to the fabric to make sure it was perfect and ignored the groans of annoyance from his friends around him. Cedric’s head shot up when his friend nudged his shoulder rough enough to knock him out of his head. He followed the gaze of said friend and suddenly found it a lot harder to breathe in the cold air. You were walking right across the courtyard to the bridge entrance to his right, no scarf to cover your face from the cold, leaving your cheeks and nose the cutest shade of pink. He noticed you didn’t really dawn.. Any protection besides your school robes to protect you from the cold.

“This is it.” He spoke up, adjusting his uniform again. In his head, he was walking over to you, already introducing himself and offering his scarf to hopefully create a nice impression, but he was stuck. The usually confident male didn’t move. Did you even notice what you did to him without even looking him in the eyes? Oh, pygmy puff droppings, he had to look you in the eyes-

With that idea now in his head, the Hufflepuff simply decided maybe later and turned in the other direction. He didn’t know if he could genuinely look you in the eyes without crashing and destroying his chances to get to know you, but one of his friends grabbed his scarf and all but threw him down the hallway, leaving him stumbling after you.

“Hey!” he called out way too loud from behind you, wincing at how his voice echoed in the tunnel like structure. He adjusted his scarf again, avoiding your confused gaze as you turned around, this time loosening it. The scarf didn’t stop his body from heating up in embarrassment. “Um-Hi.” He cleared his throat, now only a few steps away from you.

“Hello.” You chuckled out, as you cocked an eyebrow. He almost didn’t notice how your eyes looked him up and down before a grin spread across your lips. He looked over your shoulder before talking the final few steps forward.

“How are you?” His gaze soon met yours, his eyebrows furrowed as if he was expecting you to freak out. His short greeting had you snorting into the back of your hand. “I’m sorry, did I say som-”

“No, no!” You cut him off, your hand moving from your lips to your hair. “It’s not you, just.. An interesting choice of greeting.” Snickering, your fingers ran through your (h/c) locks before falling to your side. “No offense. As for how I’m doing, it all depends on who wants to know.” Your hands found their way to your trouser pockets as your head tilted out of curiosity.

“Cedric. Cedric Diggory.” He rushed his hand out while mentally shaming himself for not saying his name before asking how your day had been. He chewed on the inside of his cheek, a nervous smile spreading across his lips as you shook his hand- hopefully his palm wasn’t sweaty.

“Well, Cedric, (Y/n) is doing quite well!” You casted him a warm smile that had his heart melting inside of his chest. His nervousness was quickly melting away, thank Merlin. “What did ya need?”

“Oh, just wanted to get to know you, is all. Sometimes you look like you could use a friend or two.” Cedric smiled right back at you. He really wanted to know how you ended up in the house filled with snakes if you were such a sweetheart. Little did he know he was about to find out.

“Well, some people don’t like how I carry myself.” You shrugged, shifting your bag filled with books to your other shoulder. “But ya know I don- ..What?” Your tone shifted drastically as you peered over his shoulder. Your eyes hardened at Draco and his pathetic gang of idiots as they started their usual trouble making.

“Found yourself a boyfriend, eh?” Draco called out, while Crabbe stuck his tongue out at you. The problem with taking down one of them the first day they harassed you, led to you being a target they pursued from a distance. “That’d be cute if he was worth your lousy time.”

You turned back to Cedric, casting him a quick smile before speaking an apology and cracking your knuckles.

“I’d love to continue our conversation, DigDug, but I gotta handle some morons who don’t know tit for tat.” You put a hand on his shoulder and gently stepped around him before advancing toward the group slowly while ripping off your shoulder bag and throwing it off to the side. The Hufflepuff watched you the entire time, ignoring the tingling of his shoulder.

“Um-Yeah, no- go ahead?” Cedric's eyes followed the bag, watching it slam against the wall with a deafening thud, your books sliding free, before turning back to you.

“Oh yeah? How’s your pathetic boyfriend doing? Reckon his nose stopped bleeding shortly after I broke it.” You loved watching Malfoy turn pale as you advanced. “Maybe you’d like to see how it feels.” You grabbed the front of his robe and yanked him to your chest.

While you were threatening to beat the snot out of the pureblood idiot, all Cedric could think about was A: how strong you had to be to throw a bag filled with textbooks that hard and B: how he already had a cutesy nickname. He came back to focus just in time to see Draco wiggling from your grasp and the group sprinting away, which triggered him to hurry over to the bag and father up your stuff. When you turned back around, you noticed the Hufflepuff politely holding the bag out to you.

“Oh, thank you!” You smiled, taking it from him and putting it over your shoulder again. “Sorry you had to see that. Malfoy can be a git.” You laughed a little, rubbing the back of your neck.

“I totally understand. He deserves someone to put him in his place.” He grinned like a love sick teenager when a huge smile spread across your lips and you bounced on your feet.

“Come on! Walk me to my next class!” You grabbed his wrist and tugged him down the pathway in the winding bridge. He didn’t realize how hard his heart was beating until you spoke up again. “So, you’re fine with my methods of putting idiots in their place?”

Merlin, he was smitten for you.

Since that fateful day, you two spent almost everyday together. It ranged from helping each other study, patching you up after a fight and even singing off key right at the edge of the Forbidden Forest. Eventually, your friendship molded into a partnership. Not much changed, as you both expected, but it just became romantic. Singing muggle love songs while gazing at the stars, double the cutesy nicknames and even going to the Yule Ball together when the time came.

Eventually, the cold season shifted to a warmer climate, leaving students trying to hide from the soldering sun and less than helpful warm breezes. Currently, you and Cedric were sitting down by the Weeping Willow, using it for shade. It was perfect. You were leaning into his side with his arm wrapped around your shoulder, allowing you to play with his fingers while he read.

“Hey, DigDug?” Your soft voice broke the silence as he nodded his head, silently telling you had his attention. He let out a soft hum, telling you to continue on. “I have a secret to tell you.” You put on a guilty expression, in case he was watching and turned toward the lake across from you.

“Whatever it is, love, I’m still gonna be by your side.” His arm tightened around you in a secure manner, worry flooding his mind when you let out a shaky sigh.

“Ok, well.. I.. I wanted to tell you I.. I love you.” You smirked at him, the guilt one big act. He stared at you blankly before slamming his book and setting it beside him. “Babe?” You spoke up when he didn’t say anything. “Ced?” Your eyebrows furrowed in worry. You felt it drain just as quickly as it hit you when he lightly shoved you over, a chuckle leaving his lips.

“I love you too, sugar!” Cedric laid down on top of you, a smile across his lips. You ran a hand through his hair as you let out a grumble over it not being fair. He snorted, laying his head on your chest and just hearing your heartbeat. He ran his hand down your free arm and interlocked his fingers with yours. “I seriously love you so much.”

“I love you too, you big softie.” You laughed, which sounded more like a wheeze. Probably because of the pressure of him across your abdomen. You were the big softie, whether you wanted to admit it or not. You were sweeter than sugar, but you could turn sour so quick you could make a dragon dizzy. Luckily, he always favored those kinds of candies.

#cedric diggory x non binary reader #cedric diggory imagine #cedric diggory x male reader #cedric diggory #hp imagine #hp x male reader #hp x non binary reader #non binary reader #x non binary reader #Ronny Writes #fic #hp male fic #hp fic

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pilothusband · 4 years ago

Text

Abducted Amphora

Rating: PG-13

Pairing: Marcus Pike x Reader

Warnings: Alcohol (not to an excess), food mention (they eat pizza), non-explicit tension, mentions of stealing shit, hints at a boss/employee relationship so there’s a slight power balance there, age gap that isn’t mentioned (he has years of service and she’s almost brand new)

Word count: 1,972

Author’s note: Written for @autumnleaves1991-blog Writer Wednesday! Lightly edited, unbeta’d. This one is pretty tame compared to my other works. Thinking about turning it into a snapshot series. Let me know what you think!

A smattering of footsteps clatter throughout the courtyard, echoing off the old walls that surround you. Sprawling greens adorn almost every inch of the balcony, reaching out to an impossibly blue pool situated in the middle. You can’t help but gawk as you walk through the museum, trailing your boss by a few paces who is currently following the curator, a middle-aged woman with bouncy curls and a wardrobe to die for.

A few minutes prior, she had introduced herself as Vanessa Harrington, given a firm handshake to the two of you, and hastily made her way to the exhibit where an expensive piece of artwork was stolen.

“What’s weird is, this isn’t even the most expensive piece the museum owns,” she says, glancing backwards and waving her hands. How she manages to walk briskly in stiletto heels without looking forwards is a mystery to you.

The stolen piece is a Panathenaic amphora from Hellenistic era Greece. It was most likely used to fill with olive oil to give to Olympic champions. Not to say it isn’t valuable, but it had sat nondescript amongst bright and flashy paintings that were incredibly rare and sought after.

“And the security cameras were disabled prior to the theft?” Your boss, Marcus Pike asks, scribbling in his notepad. Vanessa nods in confirmation. “Then they were enabled right after, as if the thieves knew how to hack into the system.”

“Either they knew how to hack into the security system or they had enough insider knowledge to disable it,” you voice your thoughts, not even aware that you were speaking out loud.

Marcus looks over to you, his warm brown eyes flicking over your face in acknowledgement.

Every time his eyes meet yours, you feel yourself freeze up for a moment. No matter that you’ve been working with him for nearly a year, it’s as if time stops every time you look at him. His jaw, square and strong, along with his soft brown eyes that give away to his emotions at any moment. His broad shoulders always manage to get your pulse going, along with his small waist, showcased by the form-fitting button downs he wore under his suit coat.

“We’re going to need all information regarding museum personnel, as well as any vendors that drop by regularly,” Marcus shifts his attention over to Vanessa, who nods decisively.

“Absolutely. I have that all on my office desktop and can get that to you ASAP.”

Vanessa doles out more details for a few minutes and Marcus jots them down– in his unreadable handwriting no doubt– and then Vanessa bids you adieu and spins on her heel to her office, giving you two free rein over the museum.

There isn’t anymore DNA evidence to go over. The local police already had their personnel collect it days prior and the scene was spotless once you arrived. The thieves had been meticulous in leaving as little evidence as possible. The only fingerprints found were already processed and pending a match. They were most likely from an employee, and there’s a good chance it was just normal prints left behind from dusting priceless artwork.

Once Vanessa is out of the room, Marcus turns and places a big hand on your bicep.

“Good job back there, agent.” He flashes an easy grin. Marcus is an incredible boss. He’s driven, observant, kind, and knows when he has to make the tough calls. He’s a natural-born leader. You haven’t been with the bureau for long, being a junior agent among a team of seasoned professionals, but comparing him to other supervisory agents you have met, he’s warm and kind, always making sure his team is in good shape. He’s the kind of guy who’s prepared for anything, whether it be backup for a shootout with an unsub or someone in the room needs a pen before a staff meeting.

You can’t help but feel flushed at his praise. Despite Marcus’ easygoing nature and his openness with the team, he always seems to keep you at an arms’ length. It was getting to the point where you were wondering if he was regretting hiring you in the first place. Marcus often rotates the team when it comes to working directly with him on cases, and you have only worked directly with him once– your first ever case.

Initially you’re convinced you fucked up so badly that he didn’t want to pair up with you afterwards, but then the case report made its way back to your desk and your evaluation was normal, good even.

“Thank you,” you reply, ducking your face down to hide the growing heat licking its way up your face.

“Let’s grab some lunch, get those files from Mrs. Harringon and start digging.”

You nod in agreement and turn, walking towards the exit. You don’t notice the subtle movement, but Marcus trails you, arm raised as if he’s about to touch your waist, but pauses halfway through and scratches at his chin.

Later on that night, you’re holed up in Marcus’ hotel room, hunched over your laptop reading up on all of the museum employees. Marcus took on the task of reading over vendor files, his shoulders set much straighter.

Your back is screaming at you and your eyes are sapped of all moisture as you blink rapidly, trying to will your tear ducts into submission. It’s too early in the night to fall asleep with the amount of work you have to look forward to, and the longer it takes you to crack the case, the more likely the thieves are to get away with the crime.

“I think we could use a break,” Marcus says from across the room. You look up blearily, noting the look of concern he’s giving you, brow furrowed. He must have caught you in your tired state somehow, between poring over files and jiggling his leg absent-mindedly.

“Can’t argue with that,” you chuckle, rubbing at your eyes.

“I’ll order room service, compliments of the bureau,” he says, smiling sideways. “I’m feeling pizza, what do you think?”

“Pizza sounds heavenly,” you groan.

“What do you want to drink?” Marcus asks, his eyes scanning over the menu unfolded next to his laptop.

“Oh, uh,” you hesitate, trying to decide on caffeine or something healthier. “I think the room has plenty of water.”

“I was thinking something a little stronger,” he says, a small grin making its way over his features. “Nothing too crazy, since we still have work to do.”

“What’s your opinion on red wine?” You ask, wanting to select something you both can agree on.

“I love it,” he says, giving you a toothy smile. “Pinot Noir?”

“Sounds perfect.”

An hour later, you’re both seated on the floor, pizza box spread open between your bodies, munching away at the slices of pepperoni you both decided on and sharing the bottle of wine Marcus ordered.

“Turns out it’s bad optics for the boss to drunkenly sing 9 to 5 by Dolly Parton off-key, and I still get teased for it to this day, which is why I refuse to join the team on karaoke nights,” Marcus finishes. You’re clutching your stomach as you laugh at his story, head thrown back as you giggle.

You’ve only had a glass and a half of wine at this point, but you can already feel a persistent buzzing in your brain, your head feeling much lighter and much heavier simultaneously. This is what you get for skipping breakfast and lunch, opting to replace them with an afternoon snack and a late dinner.

Marcus laughs along with you, shaking his head and looking down at his slice of pizza.

Your laughter dies down and there’s a moment where it’s quiet, the only noise in the room being Marcus chewing on the crust of his pizza slice, and you taking a sip from your glass.

“This is a nice change,” you blurt out, immediately regretting your outburst.

“Mmm,” Marcus hums around the bite in his mouth. He swallows and looks up at you in question.

“What do you mean?” he asks.

Your eyes meet after he speaks and you can feel your heartbeat accelerating in your chest. God, why did you have to open your big mouth?

“Oh, nothing,” you shake your head. “It’s just…”

You don’t continue and Marcus shifts on his knees, leaning forwards to spur you on.

“It’s just what?”

“Well, I don’t know, it’s stupid.” You say, studying the box of pizza below you, as if it was the most interesting thing in the world.

“Nothing you could ever say is stupid,” he says with conviction. His tone makes you look up at him in wonder.

“Tell me, please,” he adds softly.

“Well, I thought you didn’t like me. Or that you didn’t think I was a good agent.” You can feel your stomach plunging and your cheeks burning at the admission.

“Why would you think that?” Marcus almost looks hurt.

“God, it’s dumb,” you babble. “But I noticed you haven’t had me partner with you on a case in ages, and you seem to get on with the rest of the team so much easier.”

You risk another look into Marcus’ eyes and he looks absolutely crushed. He cards a hand through his locks and his eyes look far away for a moment. You physically deflate, feeling like the biggest asshole on the planet.

“Hey,” he says, scooting forward and moving the pizza box aside. “You’re an amazing agent. Everything I put in your evals are the truth.”

You don’t reply, but smile softly at him.

“I’m so sorry I’ve made you feel undervalued,” he puts a hand on your shoulder and squeezes it. The look on his face, much closer to yours now, is absolutely putting you through the ringer.

Marcus looks disheveled, which is rare for him, as he always looks put-together in the office, not a hair or thread out of place in his tailored suits. His hair is sticking up and his tie is loosened. His brow is furrowed in concern and you have the overwhelming urge to soothe your thumb over it.

“I just–,” he starts and pauses, trying to come up with the right words. “I was so distracted during that case with you, and I never want to put you in that kind of danger again. Especially as a junior agent.”

Distracted?

“What do you mean?” You ask, blinking in confusion. What could have possibly distracted him from the case? This man, so motivated, so focused. He was diligent to a fault, at times.

“I–”

He’s cut off by his cell phone, ringing insistently in his pants pocket. He lifts a finger to pause the conversation and answers the phone.

His expression is focused as he listens to the other end of the line, murmuring affirmations as the call continues.

“Okay, sounds good. We’ll be there first thing in the morning.”

He hangs up the phone, shifts his legs and stuffs it back in his pocket.

“We’ve got a lead on the suspects,” he tells you. “A bodega near the museum has a security camera that caught a large utility van parked in front, right around the time the amphora was stolen. The owner said they’re only available to talk before they open, so we have to be there by 5:30 AM.”

You scramble to your feet and shut your laptop while Marcus clears the pizza and wine. You watch him silently as he finishes the task, noting his stiff shoulders and the carefully neutral expression on his face.

You’ll have to ask Marcus about the conversation later, if you can work yourself up to it. For now, you’ll let your imagination run wild and hope someday you can get over this juvenile crush you have on your boss.

Taglist: @tenderclio @softdin @darnitdraco @freeshavocadoooo @recklessworry @wyn-dixie @manalg14 @codenamewife @comphersjost @princessxkenobi @manalg14 @comphersjost @a-skov @sheresh0y @greeneyedblondie44 @blackmarketmummy @brandyllyn @gracie7209 @bootyliciousbilbo @dobbyjen @vanillabeanlattes @knivesareout @fastandfeminist @phrog-seeds @janebby @xoxo-callie

#marcus pike #marcus pike x you #marcus pike x reader #pedro pascal #writer wednesday #marcus pike fanfiction

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haliyam · 4 years ago

Text

Asset

zeke x reader/oc, slight levi x reader/oc

summary: Levi slips into the Liberio internment zone during the festival and finds himself distracted. (Season 4 and manga spoilers ahead)

Reader does have a background that’s hinted at, default name Lucy, but if you have the InteractiveFics browser extension, please feel free to use it to change your first name! This is actually part of a series I'm hoping to write (brain willing lol), but this can stand alone too.

AO3 link if you prefer to read there

hello! i haven’t been on tumblr in a while but stumbling back into aot made me need to write something, and everyone’s fics and gifs here are amazing!

Jean looks around, tilting the brim of his hat forward just before they cover his eyes. “You sure about this, Captain?”

“Nothing wrong with making sure they haven’t caught on,” Levi nods, adjusting the lapel of his jacket. “Or that that bastard hasn’t changed his mind and informed on us to his superiors.”

Jean’s eyes flicker to his at the very thought. He spots a familiar hesitation in them, but it’s quickly fettered away with a nod. When Levi is sure he has nothing more to say, he returns it, and Jean departs for the crowd with a casual swagger that belies his doubt.

Levi hasn’t asked them their opinions on this operation. Of course, they’ve all offered it anyway—but Hange has decided, and he trusts their decision. On that point, the Scouts had all agreed.

Today the internment zone gates are open to all visitors, Eldian or not. Triangular streamers of all colors canopy the streets, and flutes and drums and instruments he’s never heard sound out in joyous cacophony in the near distance, tempting curious ears from beyond the gates. The festival is definitely a trap—but admittedly, a beautiful one. He’s never seen this much cheer since Historia’s ascension, or maybe since they retook Wall Maria. Back then he hadn’t exactly participated, much less left his quarters until it was later and Hange insisted he show himself… but this celebration is in full swing. Between Jean, Connie, and Sasha, Jean was the best choice to bring along. He’s the most likely to stay on track.

...Which is why it shames Levi when he’s caught off guard staring into a stall filled with all kinds of … food, he can only guess. Onyankopon introduced them to new desserts, but this is different. Bright and vivid, the tangy scent of them fills the air, but they’re not lollipops or candy or chocolate. He was supposed to turn the corner into an alley right before this one when he spotted it, and now…

“Here.”

A packet of one of the strange desserts is shoved into his face so quickly that he almost darts back. He reins it in at the last minute, only fixing a glare upon whoever dared invade his personal space like that, much less present themselves as a threat.

You.

A young woman in a simple dress, hand clasped around a packet of mouth-watering orange-yellow strips of the stuff.

“Here,” you smile politely, apparently unfazed by the suspicion he levels at you.

“What is that?”

“Dried mangoes,” you reply, taking a step or two closer to let your arm relax. “You were looking at them, right? They come chocolate-covered, too, but I say try these before the other variants.”

He doesn’t answer. The people manning the stalls beneath the vivid tents in the festival have all been overly friendly, but that’s par for the course, and they know to turn to their next prospective customer when he quickly walks past. Damn his own eyes. They almost make him regret his rule not to accept anything from anyone unvetted. “No thanks.”

Now you give him a different look. A curious one, which makes him almost curse under his breath. He’s supposed to blend in; not draw attention to himself. Levi turns away, heading down the road again and meaning to turn for the alley once he’s shaken you, but you’re already walking next to him.

“Have we met?” you ask, still looking at him.

“No.” He thinks he would remember if you had. And this isn’t good. Now you’ll try to commit his face to memory.

But you look away instead as you bar his way once more—down, to be specific, so you can fish a small piece of the dessert from the packet and take a bite. “Not poisoned,” you promise, clearly biting back a grin while you pause to chew. Infuriatingly, you begin to mirror his squint. “You aren’t from around here, are you?”

He stares at you, and is still deciding between bewilderment or irritation when you continue, “It’s not a bad thing. I’m glad that you decided to drop by.”

“What?”

At least the look he gives you makes you recoil just a little now. That’s more what Levi is accustomed to. But it doesn’t stop you from talking. “You’re not from the zone,” you answer, motioning to his bandless left arm. “Not many outsiders want to come, in spite of the festival… so thank you for giving it a chance.”

You extend your arm again, your hand and the packet almost touching his chest in this renewed offer.

He really shouldn’t be doing this. He should be pointing you toward a distraction and leaving, or otherwise putting you off to the extent that you voluntarily leave him alone yourself. But the hope in your gaze is too tender to spoil, reminds him of too many in the past who deserved more than him to be here now—or it’s the festival getting to him.

With a sigh, Levi takes a strip of dried mango from the packet and watches your lips curve upward into a bright smile. He shakes his head, barely just stopping from rolling his eyes as he thinks about how you probably picked a dessert far too sweet for his tastes—but he’s in for another shock when he takes a bite and finds it sour instead. Well, sweet in parts and sour in others. It’s different, but he doesn’t dislike it at all.

It must show on his face as he chews, which is terrible, because you take it as an invitation to speak again. “They’re from the southeastern archipelago. Eldia never conquered much of that continent—and thank goodness for that,” you seem to add quickly for good measure, “but it did pick up a few of their delicacies. It’s common Eldian fare whenever they’re in season.”

“I see,” he says, just to be forgettable. “Thank you.” It’s likely that being rude will make someone like you remember him more, and that isn’t his goal here today. As he swallows the strip (it was too small), Levi almost doesn’t notice you nudging him forward toward the next stall. But he does, and he gives you a look. “What do you think you’re doing?”

You grin sheepishly, knowing you’ve been caught. “I never meet non-Eldians within the zone. Especially none like you. I'm going to tour you around the stalls a little - I know the scents might be confusing, and the armbands are… well. But there are good, honest people here.”

“That so?” the remark is aimed toward you, because his suspicions remain, but he realizes his mistake when your eyes look even more earnest than before.

“There are. And good food, as you can tell,” you say proudly. You offer him the packet again. “Let me show you.”

He should really get going. He and Jean mean to rendezvous in an hour, and he still hasn’t left the festival grounds.

But the look in your eyes tells him you’re going to be very annoying if he refuses. Or maybe that’s what he tells himself when he lets you.

This is how Levi finds himself guided around the festival that afternoon, getting all sorts of history lessons on food (and tea) as he tries them - but only bites, and very reluctantly of course, because he doesn’t care to get too full before tonight, when his stomach has already begun to turn. It’s that he knows he has no right to enjoy himself with the novelty of this event, with the optimism in your quiet laughter when he balks at the spicy undercurrent in the skewer of meat you have the audacity to stick into his hand. Not when he knows what’s going to happen tonight. Not when he doesn’t even know your name.

You tell him, finally, when you take a break by a quiet corner in the festival. Over here they’re selling older Eldian art pieces, some painted and others carved figurines, and the scent of lacquered wood faintly invades his senses. He gets a brief respite only when you lean closer to him to let a passing merchant through. Lilies. “I’m Lucy. I thought you should know the name of your tour guide.”

The name sounds familiar. It’s probably a common one he heard during their last visit.

You’re holding your hand out to him, expectation now in your gaze. He’s clearly spoiled you.

Levi stares at your hand. He doesn’t care to shake it, but again—better to be forgettable. He wracks his mind for a name.

“Kenny.”

Kenny? Levi inwardly sighs.

“It’s nice to meet you, Kenny.” You exchange a good, solid handshake, but you are quick to pull away immediately after. Why? Has he been compromised?

He hopes not, as you give him a reassuring smile and look ahead. At the far, far end of the next avenue is the plaza where the crowds will settle tonight, but you can’t see it from here. “Are you here for Willy’s play tonight?”

“Isn’t everyone?”

“Between you and me,” you say, leaning just a bit closer again as you move on from the area and smile at a waving shopkeep, “It’s probably going to be boring. I would leave after the festival.”

Levi looks down at you, meets your gaze with a critical eye for the first time since your meeting. He ignores the way the afternoon sun sets a golden highlight around your hair. “You think so?”

If you notice, you deflect his look with a little snort. “The Tyburs,” you almost spit the name, with a venom not unfamiliar to someone in his line of work but uncharacteristic enough of what he’s seen of you that he spares you a blink. “The Tybur family’s official policy is to leave the rest of the Eldians on the wayside while they live in their beautiful estates. Why speak now?” Your hand, gentle all this time paying the vendors, passing him food, tossing it in your mouth, now clenches at your side. “He’s a coward. So…”

You trail off, biting your tongue as you turn away briefly. Hatred is something far too familiar for Levi to balk at, and so he doesn’t. Because it wasn’t hatred he saw in your eyes, but a strange defeat. He has to wonder, but he stops himself before he can. That will be moot after tonight.

“He’s saying something now,” he replies blankly, letting you hear the shrug in his tone. He doesn’t really care to defend someone with only a few hours left to live, but maybe he feels guilty for knowing even that much. Death has always been a certainty in his life, but the how and the when? “Some people never say anything at all.”

His words break you out of your stupor. It appears you weren’t really talking to him after all, but now he wishes he bit his tongue. The idea of you leaving before the play actually sounds like a good one, and he should not have gainsaid it.

“I suppose you have a point,” you say, looking slightly abashed at your outburst. Sighing, you gesture around the area. “So what do you think? Not bad for a home of devils, right?”

The question has him turning toward you so sharply that you begin to squirm under his gaze. The truth is you’ve been able to deflect his uninterested, even hostile expressions so far, but this one is new. His eyes are walled off for the most part, but a telling indignation flashes across his grey eyes so quickly you wonder if you even saw it. He sees it in the way you search them.

You gulp and then clear your throat. “I lived here when I was younger,” you explain, appearing both frightened and encouraged. Ultimately unable to withstand his gaze, you start to walk again, down the road toward the plaza.

He hardly notices himself following suit. “You left?” You were allowed to?

“My family isn’t from Liberio,” you admit, slowing to keep apace. “I came here to join the Warrior program when I was little.”

Now the expression in his eyes is indecipherable, but curiosity gives it the smallest edge as his gaze flits to your armband. Pale grey, almost white.

“I didn’t make it,” you say, quickly, since bringing up Marley’s prized Warriors with anyone from outside of the motherland is an awful idea this soon, “so I was called back home. But I had fond memories of this place, all things considered, and now I’ve chosen it as mine.”

A strange feeling now worms its way into Levi’s chest. He’s already managed to shut off his thoughts and apprehensions about tonight’s operation - they can’t afford doubts, after all, and anyway those have never stopped him from getting the job done - but it makes him uncomfortable.

“Where do you live?” Will you be spared the worst of it?

You look surprised, but you smile all the same. “A few blocks from here. An old doctor and his family let me stay with them when I was little, and I still stay there now. Now I… work at the hospital in the zone.”

“You’re a doctor too?”

The question seems to dismay you. “Not exactly.”

He frowns before he can help it. “You’re pretty dodgy for a tour guide.”

Now you can’t help but laugh in what almost looks like offense. “Me? I’m the one who’s been talking about myself, between the two of us,” you say, your indignation diluted with your ringing mirth. It sounds clearly over the din. “I don’t even know where you’re from!”

“You do. Not here.”

Levi feels the side of his mouth quirk when you laugh at such a small remark, but you manage to get a hold of yourself before he can respond.

You meet his gaze again, shaking your head in disbelief, and something appears to click in your mind as your lips part with revelation.

“You’re a war veteran, aren’t you?’

Levi graces you with another blink. “What?”

“I won’t ask where,” you promise again, raising a hand in surrender. “You just remind me of someone I’ve met at the hospital.”

He quirks a brow. “How should I take that?”

“Oh! Not as an insult!” you laugh again, covering your mouth, but your lips are pursed, still stifling another smile when you lower your hand. It takes another moment for you to compose yourself. “I meant rather that… you have soulful eyes.”

His soulful eyes stare straight at you, utterly deadpan. “Soulful.”

You stand by it, clearly suppressing mirth again. “Soulful.”

Levi sighs with some exasperation, as if to wonder how his life choices have led to him having to put up with all this, and it must be the most you’ve gotten out of this man since you interrupted his consideration of those snacks. Somehow you can tell that even his irritation should flatter you. “Anyway,” you say, when he seems resigned to all this, “if you aren’t completely sold on watching the play tonight, maybe you can drop by the hospital instead.”

Levi narrows his eyes at you. “Why would I do that?”

“Well… we don’t get visitors often. But the patients always appreciate them.” After a pause, you add, “Not always. But even just sitting with them is something.”

His furrowed brow relaxes. Not that he’ll be able to say yes - not that he wants to - and not that he’s ever cared all that much for bleeding hearts. It’s really more the determination in your gaze that gets him. Like you’re not exactly going to take no for an answer, or worse, and maybe closer to his heart, that you refuse to let the possibility cross your mind.

“There’s one patient I would love to introduce to you,” you continue, when you catch the hesitation in his silence. “He calls himself K—“

“Lucy?”

A familiar voice calls your name from amid the crowd. The smile that simply illuminates your features as you turn to look over your shoulder draws Levi’s eyes to yours rather than to your mouth this time.

Before you can look, a pair of arms encircles your waist, a beard nuzzling your neck while you squirm and laugh, trying to elbow your way out of the embrace to no avail. It’s token resistance that leads only to his nose nudging at your jaw, mouth grazing your neck. “Zeke, stop!”

“So this is where you’ve been hiding,” he murmurs, his glasses nudging your cheek, whisper tickling your skin. “Meeting ran late. You know how Magath is.”

“I know,” you say as you manage to wrangle your way out of his grasp. “But please don’t do that in front of my new—“

You glance to the side with an apology ready for him, but Levi has disappeared. Your hands grasp Zeke’s sleeve for balance as you get on your tiptoes, but you cannot spot his hat among the crowd.

“—friend.” You frown. “He was just here.”

Zeke quirks a brow. “Who?”

“Kenny,” you say. “He was wearing a dark suit and a fedora. Just a little taller than me, black hair… you didn’t see him? And—are you all right?” You reach for his fingers, kneading at the pads of them with yours. “Your hands are so cold.”

Zeke shakes his head, dismissing your second question. “A little taller than you,” he enunciates instead, withdrawing his hands to make a show of stroking his beard. “So did I see another runt? The answer is no, sorry.”

You give his hip a light smack. “I’m not a runt. I’m taller than Pieck!”

“By an inch.” When you make a face at him, Zeke smiles, hands pawing at your shoulders before running down your back and pulling you to him, your chest flush against the wall of his stomach. “Do you want us to look for your Kenny?” he asks, his thumb ghosting your lip.

“He’s not my Kenny,” you give him a look, even though he knows his hands are already giving you other ideas. His other one is stroking your waist. “I just thought he looked lost.”

“My bleeding heart,” he says fondly. “You can’t save everyone.”

You shoot him a look that he ignores. This isn’t the place to get into that discussion, so you shrug it off. “I guess I was imposing on him. At one point he seemed like he’d rather drink rotten milk than listen to me. I just thought we’d built a rapport...”

Zeke snorts. “Okay, okay. I’ll listen to you.”

You squint at him. “Don’t let me twist your arm.”

He grins, leaning closer to whisper in your ear. “I think I let you do a lot more to me than just that, Miss Blanchard.”

The flush that predictably spreads across your face makes him laugh, that warm, hearty chuckle that makes your knees weak. He bends down to touch your lips with his, smiling when you seek his mouth to deepen the kiss. Your hand fists around his shirt, the slightest hum of enjoyment from your throat drawing him further into your thrall, but the nudge of a passerby makes him pull away after a moment. His lips envy the disappointed pout that seizes yours as he closes your hand around his. Zeke lifts it to plant a more chaste kiss to your knuckles in apology.

“But before all that,” he says, “how about that festival date you promised me?”

Zeke gives you a questioning look, as though a part of him might actually doubt that you’ll say yes. Really it’s that he wonders if you’ll still gaze at him with those tender eyes this time tomorrow, but you can’t possibly know that.

You shrug, intertwining your fingers with his. “I’ll let you twist my arm.”

“You let me do a lot more—“

“Yeager...”

“Heh heh.” He withdraws his hand so he can wrap an arm around you instead as he guides you back to the heart of the festival. “I ran into the others while looking for you. The kids wouldn’t shut up about some good wrap nearby—and while their faces were full of pizza. What do you think?”

You lean against him, unable to help the warmth that you practically radiate as he holds you. He knows it too, pulling you closer. You shrug him off briefly to take a last glance around for Kenny, but he really is nowhere to be found.

Ducking back under Zeke’s arm, you smile. “Why not?”

Out of sight, trying to stave off the nausea, Levi watches the pair of you walk away from beside one of the many festival stands littering the avenue. How couldn’t he have realized who you are? Lucy is the name of the asset that sack of shit wants retrieved before the operation begins. He had wondered why, thought it some political ploy that would come into play later on. He didn’t expect the reason to be so... mundane.

He can’t believe he almost felt worried. He knew there had to be something strange about you, ignoring how he was clearly trying to get away. Had you been taunting him? A trap, just like this festival?

It hadn’t seemed like it. Your smile appeared to be genuine.

Not that it matters. He gets smiles all the time that he doesn’t care for; why should a beautiful woman’s remain with him or be any more noteworthy than another’s?

Dismissing the sight lingering in his mind’s eye, Levi turns for his true objective. He’s wasted enough time.

...And anyway, any person who would take up with that monster probably has some skeletons of her own.

Levi supposes he’ll find out later.

---

Thank you for reading! :)

The series I mentioned planning should be zeke x reader/oc, but because levi is very tempting, I'm also planning/considering a levi/reader AU (or ending??) of the ending post-rumbling (we'll see).

EDIT: This is a oneshot which can stand on its own, but if you're interested in a series I've posted the first two chapters of interim, the first of the Zeke-centered fics I mentioned I intended to write! It's a prequel that starts in Liberio after Zeke, Pieck, and Reiner come home post-S3. It'll go into Reader/Lucy's relationship with the Warriors, particularly Zeke, + how exactly they ended up where they are here in Asset. Levi makes a return appearance once we get to the sequel to Asset, going into the Raid on Liberio and onward.

EDIT 2: And if you'd like something completely Zeke-focused in the same year as Asset, here is a short fluff oneshot to accompany art I commissioned of Zeke and Lucy. It will have Lucy's appearance there (and I suppose her appearance is a spoilerish for the family name which you will discover in interim chapter 1), so if you don't want to see what she looks like then don't click it or just scroll down before the art loads. XD these trivial moments takes place some time before Asset, but still within the month that passes between the end of the Marley Mid-East War and the Raid on Liberio.

#zeke x reader #zeke x oc #zeke yeager x reader #zeke yeager x oc #zeke jaeger x reader #zeke jaeger x oc #levi x reader #levi x oc #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman x oc #slight #eventually maybe #zeke yeager #levi ackerman #jean cameo because i love him #aot #snk #haliyam #asset

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pollenat · 4 years ago

Text

ITZY and A moment of sadness

➛ Trigger warning: angst. The concept resolves around the reader going through a depressive phase and the members’ reactions to it.

Dark and provoking. Somehow, the world feels worse than immortal killers from cult classics. It’s much more relentless in its pursuit after your peace and it’s not even trying.

You wonder, have you always felt this way, or was there a time when the world didn’t seem as bleak as it does at this moment. Everything looks fruitless. What’s the reason for passing days? What about the changing seasons? How does one go on with a reason? The world does nothing and yet chooses that form of an attack on you. It’s effective.

A knock resonates. Jumping in place, because you were drowning in pain, until the sound, like a rope, pulled you towards the surface, the real world of now, you welcome it with a little bit of hesitation. Who? What? Why? Like a sleepwalker, you walk towards hallway, slow, terrified, blue. The anxiety raises, and you wonder whether it’s not too late to turn back. Pretend you’re not home. After all, there is no emergency to take care of, is there?

The knocking resonates once again, a stark contrast to the silence and calmness of your small apartment. It feels dead although you’re the most living creature that could ever inhabit the four walls. Not even a fly to join you. Just you and the terrorizing knocking on the front door.

A breath in, a breath out. You’re not sure about opening the door even when your hand catches the locking mechanism. The crunch of turning metal travels through a crack in your chest, like water does through split glass. There’s a silhouette outside, one that you instantly recognize as...

YEJI

Though you’re sure she will start scolding you any second now, a sigh breaks through the plush of her lips.

“(y/n)-” accompanies a soft smile of comfort.

Yeji isn’t mad, though you think she should be. Any other person would be furious at you for avoiding them. But not Yeji. She understands and offers her presence. Always. So in the end - you’re at fault here. For making her worried, hurting her by avoiding contact and being so thoughtless towards someone who’s still by your side. No matter how many may have left you, Yeji would never do such thing. The thought makes your eyes burn. All you had to do was tell her.

She doesn’t wait for you to speak, or cry your eyes out. Yeji’s arms open and lock you in a tight embrace. As she clings onto you, you’re pushed deeper inside the hallway. The sound of closing front door is just a sound. Yeji smells of familiarity and promise that things will be fine. Eventually. Perhaps, with her around it may seem so. Once she’s gone, the spell will break and you’ll return to the spiral of self-pity. It’s a wonder she hasn’t grown tired of you already.

“I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.” says Yeji. Her tightening embrace seems to be an answer to your similar motion.

Your fingers dig into the common material of her coat. It’s cold from the temperature outside. Her helix, leaning against the side of your head suffers the same fate. You were the reason she had to endure it - the cold. Guilt instantly fuels your imagination. You think of her frozen fingers, shaking teeth, teary eyes and itching skin - all of which you’re the reason for.

“Are you overthinking?” She waits a moment until, lying, you shake your head no. “Don’t ever think that I could be mad at you for being sad.”

Her statement is not just any reassurance. It’s her proving how much she cares about you. So much that she knows you’re on a self-guilt spree. Like always when feeling down.

“How-” You still want to ask, but the pain in your throat seems life-threatening.

Her hold weakens, so she can lean back and look at you properly. The avoidance of her gaze doesn’t discourage Yeji. As little as you want to show, her still smiling lips are pushing themselves into your view. Like magnets, they summon your eyes to appreciate the show. It doesn’t last long enough. She pouts, head nodding at somewhere behind you.

“Shh. I’ll make you something to drink, alright? I bought chocolate and other things. Chose the weirdest snacks I could find in the store-”

Yeji’s hands slip down your arms to lock on your fingers. You’re pulled along to kitchen, the usually irritating light of a lamp you hate, no longer as terrible. Frankly, it’s hard to pay attention to anything other than the young woman in front of you. Yeji is a bright star of good vibrations. Just a look at her and you’re feeling lighter, as if the sadness could be weighed and abandoned. You don’t need the chocolate-sized portion of dopamine. It won’t last, though you don’t plan on completely omitting it.

“Good thing I remembered to buy milk, right?” Yeji’s eyes almost close, unable to fight with her raising cheeks. “What would you do without my grocery shopping sense?”

She’s talkative, putting the day’s history into words. You’re listening, eager to catch onto every syllable, focus on something that’s worth your attention. Chocolates are small and last a single bite. But Yeji? She’s a lifetime of dopamine.

LIA

Before you can recognize the visitor, her hand lands on the door to push it farther. Jisoo has a solemn look on her face. She quickly passes you and closes the entrance, as if she was scared of something awaiting outside. The palms of her hands are flat against the door’s surface. Curtains of dark hair cover her profile, to keep you away from whatever her face may be painting.

You’re trapped in long minutes of uncomfortable silence, filled with thoughts of scary possibilities. Did you do something wrong? Maybe something happened to her? The reminder of many missed calls passes your mind, like an accusatory finger pointing at the main suspect. You want to ask her what’s going on, but words are too difficult to come by.

After what feels like forever, Jisoo turns to look at you. The solemnity falls, so a picture of worry can take its place. She looks as if guilt was chewing her ear off. As if she was the one with a string of bad choices following her.

“Sorry.” Her voice is small. “I was worried you’d- you’d close the door in my face.” A huff of disbelief follows. She seems amused by her own way of thinking.

Unsure how to tackle her behavior, you just nod in understanding. Lips feeling dry, you dare a look around the room you see on a daily basis. Just like you imagine yourself - it’s a picture of pure misery. Slightly embarrassed by the mess, you scramble to collect abandoned belongings. Otherwise Jisoo will surely scold you.

A jacket you had no strength to hide. Shoes you didn’t care for. A jumper you randomly abandoned. In the past they didn’t matter. Now, they’re an irritating distraction.

“What are you doing?” Jisoo catches the jumper’s sleeve.

“Cleaning.”

She clicks her tongue and pulls the material out of your hands. It’s neatly folded and placed on the nearest surface, so you’re no longer bothered by it. But the need to hide it in a closet raises in the place of irritation. You’re staring at the jumper, indifferent to Jisoo’s hard gaze.

“Seriously,” She steps in front of you, taking all of your sight for her. “don’t you think there are more important things than stress-cleaning?” Jisoo’s smile doesn’t reach her eyes.

Embarrassed, you attempt a sigh, but instead of frustration, it’s a sound of a broken heart. Distorted and miserable. Out of what exact reason? Who knows, because surely not you. One moment you were existing, the next one you were feeling guilty for breathing.

Jisoo’s right hand wipes your cheek, probably to get rid of a stray eyelash you haven’t noticed. It’s a kind reminder of the good things, you’d kill to get a hold of. To forget for a moment and focus on something else, other than your mental state. Like the jumper. You want to put it away. Out of sight, out of mind as they say.

“You ignored my texts, calls... Just a single word back would do.” Though you’re the one with dark clouds hanging over your head, Jisoo sounds like she’s in actual pain, all caused by your stubborn silence.

“I’m sorry. I just don- didn’t feel like talking to anyone.”

“And that’s fine. But always let me know you’re around, okay? No talking. Just a yes, or- I don’t know.”

Perhaps it’s the pressure of your terrified gaze. Perhaps the useless silence pushes her into action. Or, perhaps, it’s Jisoo’s own overpowering feelings that make her embrace your middle. She doesn’t look like someone who wants to let go and her tightening grip only proves the assumption. For the first time this eveing, her smile shines with honesty.

RYUJIN

She looks annoyed. The opening of your front door has her head falling back, a deep breath escaping, eyes closing. You watch her chin, somehow relieved it’s her, somehow more scared it’s her.

“I thought-”

Her raspy voice is terror-inducing. Under other circumstances, you’d love catching onto the rougher parts when she reaches the lows. But now? Now you’d rather tune it out so she doesn’t speak more, so she doesn’t get a chance to say something that may cut through your fragile shell.

“I was seriously worried.”

Without any other courses of action left to take, you open the door wider. It’s only polite to allow the guests in and you have no answer to her statement. But Ryujin doesn’t seem ready to step in, or even look at you. She’s facing the hallway’s wall, sorting out emotions that are a total mystery to you. There’s more to her state than serious worry.

“Why didn’t you answer the phone?” Her question isn’t a surprise. It’s a fact you want to push out of your awareness. Phones are scary. Answering questions is scary. Seeing irritated Ryujin is scary.

“Sorry-” You tell her, lost on words.

Her face finally turns towards you which you answer by looking down at your feet. You haven’t noticed how irritated the cold made your skin. White lines of drought cross your blueing skin tone. Toes drum against a dirty doormat.

“Just a text would be enough.” She says in a much softer tone. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

Though eager to, you don’t allow yourself a look at Ryujin. Who knows how much more heart break you can accept, even if the previous reasons weren’t directly caused by you. Is your head you, or is it a different being? These days, it rarely seems to be an ally, more an enemy.

Steps are taken towards you. Ryujin’s heavy boots stand next to your naked feet. You want to step back and let her inside, but hands catch your cheeks before you can move away. Chin is lifted up. You’re staring at Ryujin and she’s staring back. Into your soul, someone could think. But the thing is, you’re aware she must know now. Her sudden softness is enough of a proof. You’re fragile and Ryujin knows how to deal with characters in your state.

“Did something happen?” She comes closer, so now her warmth is shielding you from a draft.

Hesitation holds you silent for few long seconds that Ryujin bravely faces.

“No.”

“So nothing happened?”

“Nothing happened.”

“So you’re sad?”

A bite on your lower lip answers her. Ryujin nods, dropping her eyes. She doesn’t speak for a longer time, until cold wind’s blowing makes you shudder. At that, a guilty smile crosses her fingers and without turning away, Ryujin kicks the door closed.

“We’ll have to do something about that then.”

CHAERYEONG

A picture of pure worry. Chaeryeong looks like a puppy that has done something wrong and now feels guilty. But she did nothing to feel guilty of. You’re sure of that. As always, the fault is all yours. Why would she even choose to care for you? Obviously - aside from the kindness of her heart. And now, in a spot right next to the uselessness, you’re struck with guilt.

She wants to say something, but decides to search your face before speaking. Lips close, then press into a thin line. Her eyes drop down before looking at you again. You’re not sure how to answer her unclearly asked question. There’s no clear explanation to your state.

All wordless, you take a step to the side, allowing her inside. Chaeryeong hesitates only for a moment. She’s such a natural view, you’re weirded out by her being frozen in place, unresponsive to your motion. An invisible switch has to be turned on for the pieces to match. Her steps inside are small, anxious. Remind you of her first time at your flat, back when things were alien. But they’re not anymore. Chaeryeong knows everything about the four walls you inhabit, from the most comfortable spot on your couch, to where you hide socks. She’s seen it all. Your gloomy days are where the blank territory rests. Best couch spot won’t help with that and Chaeryeong knows it.

After closing the front door, you turn around to catch her facing you. Dark eyes hang under wrinkles of a strained forehead. For a moment you forget yourself. Fingers, as if having their own mindset, reach forward to flatten her skin. It’s soft and warm, unlike the rooms you’re closed in.

“Don’t do that, or it will stay that way.” Chaeryeong’s frown deepens for a second, but she smiles. You do as well, though the corners of your lips ache.

Her hand doesn’t swat yours away, like it tends to do with a little bit of a joking undertone. Instead, it weakly grabs your wrist to invite you into a hold. Her bright smile doesn’t falter like yours. Chaeryeong’s face remains an anchor, the last reminder of good feelings you’ve once possessed.

“Can we watch a movie?” Her question takes you by surprise. It’s careful, but also so outside of the range of possible topics, you’re not sure whether to be glad or doubtful.

“I mean- Sure?” The smile widens, though it seemed impossible a moment before.

You’re pulled straight on the couch, with no possibility of standing up in sight. Chaeryeong’s hands circle around your arm, her body coming as close as possible, making you wonder whether she has applied glue in-between your sides.

“Next time,” The TV clicks. “just text me.”

Though you’re basically glued to one another, she doesn’t dare even a stray look in your direction. Chaeryeong’s eyes are focused on the screen. You know she’s not watching the random episode of Family Court.

“Text you what?”

“You know what!”

Your question seems to offend her somehow. One of Chaeryeong’s hands slaps your abdomen, but frown is quick to disappear as she lays a cheek on your arm. Only now you notice the warmth she emits, like a human-shaped heater. Comforting, inviting, overtaking. You cannot resist the magnetic pull. Skin rests on her velvet-like hair. Maybe next time you will find the courage to text her, so the smell of her strawberry shampoo fills your senses and pushes everything wrong out.

YUNA

“Ah, you really couldn’t be bothered to have phone on you? Seriously, who does this now? We’re living in the XXIst century!” Yuna babbles on, eyes staring at you, but not really. She’s so taken by the monologue, your state passes her judgement unnoticed. Knowing her, the speech was in the works her entire way to your apartment. “And to think you usually never let it go out of your hand! But today, you just had to ignore me? What am I to you?”

“Hm?” Her eyes widen, a sign you read as I didn’t meant that last sentence. It was the heat of the moment and, frankly, you don’t care about words today.

Yuna doesn’t continue her rant. Your passiveness is much more interesting to her than the personal feeling of anger. A little dumbfounded, she finally takes her eyes off of you to stare at your front door. She may be lost in thought, but you realize it’s not good to keep the guest waiting outside. Weakly, the door is pushed wide open. Your feet take you back to the couch you occupied earlier.

It takes her a moment to gather thoughts before you hear her stepping inside and closing the door. Then she struggles with the fabrics. You haven’t noticed her current choice of shoes, but you imagine her pulling boots off of her feet. Yuna sighs in discomfort. The noise isn’t meant to be loud. It’s the silent apartment that takes it on a run through every nook and cranny.

A stray pillow occupies your fingers. Yuna walks inside the living room. Her hesitancy is obvious. She may be quiet, but the atmosphere is screaming. Another material is pulled, probably a scarf. Feet pad against naked floor. She stands next to you, staring at where you’re tormenting the poor pillow, before she dares to sit down. Yuna is not good with these things. You know they make her uncomfortable. That’s why you avoided involving her in the first place.

“Are you-” She jumps a little at the volume of her own voice. “Are you feeling alright?”

“I’ll be okay.” Then, so she doesn’t have to wonder, you add “Didn’t mean to worry you.”

“Well-” The paint comes off of the pillowcase’s zipper. “You should worry me with things. You know, when you’re feeling bad and all that- All that stuff.”

There’s an attempt at humor - a huff you don’t understand. Probably meant to portray her powerlessness. You’re aware there’s nothing Yuna hates more than the thought there’s nothing she can do. It’s an energy-consuming parasite that feeds on your anxiety and her inability. So the silence continues, stretched into long minutes. Every time she opens her mouth, nothing comes out of it. Every time you move a little, she jumps in her seat. As if your movement could hurt her.

“Really, you can go home. I’ll deal with- this.”

She doesn’t answer. Not initially After a moment of hesitation and analyzing your features, Yuna dares to scoot over, so your thighs are touching. The lack of sudden movement on your side gives her all the encouragement she needs. Arms are quick to embrace you. Their hold is tight, but maybe not tight enough. The thought isn’t voiced.

“But I don’t want to go home. I want to stay with you. Keep you company. I know I’m not that good with these things, but- I want to be better at it. So just tell me how can I help, or if you don’t want to talk, then I’m fine with not talking too!” Her passionate words land on the back of your neck in a series of rapid breaths. “Just- don’t push me away, alright?”

➛ pollenat’s list of headcanons

➛ pollenat’s list of shorts

➛ pollenat’s list of scenarios

#not proud of that intro #sorry for not updating #im not dropping the acc or anything #just trying to survive school #itzy fanfiction #itzy imagines #itzy reactions #itzy headcanons #itzy angst #kpop fanfiction #kpop imagines #kpop reactions #kpop headcanons #kpop angst #girl groups #pollenat's reactions

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harrowharkboygf · 5 years ago

Text

Game Night

a short post-season 5 oneshot. read on ao3

——

Catra liked to think of herself as a dedicated person. There were a lot of things she still hated about herself—the therapist Perfuma had recommended to her had said during their first session that it would take time to fully forgive herself, to get out of the “self-destructive mindset” she had spent so long embracing. But she at least prided herself on her resolve, her resilience, her determination.

However, it turned out that in terms of determination, she was nothing compared to the princesses’ crazed desire to hold as many social events as physically possible.

At first, during the initial celebration at Brightmoon and the stream of Thank You For Saving The World, Princesses! parties that were thrown in their honor as they traveled across Etheria to help with rebuilding efforts, Catra thought that this was just because of the circumstances. Everyone was clearly thrilled to be alive and happy that the princesses were back to being heroes, and they wanted to commemorate the occasion with festivities.

(It was still weird to think of herself like that. As a member of the Princess Alliance. Would it ever get less strange?)

But then Catra learned that the princesses were just like that. There were endless game nights and iceball tournaments and flower crown-making circles and picnics and trips around Etheria just for the purpose of seeing the sights. Late night planning meetings that turned into sleepovers, and visits to their allies under the guise of “checking in” that held no tactical purpose in the end.

This was so foreign, so beyond her reality; she had grown up in the Horde, where her idea of free time was just more training. Her only celebrations came in the form of stolen moments with Adora and extra ration bars, which she hoarded like it was water in the Crimson Wastes.

But despite how skeptical she acted, deep down Catra loved it, even the flower crowns. She discovered that she was very good at iceball—so good that she and Adora were banned from playing against each other on the grounds of being too competitive. (Thankfully, Glimmer and Frosta were equally worthy opponents.) Spinnerella and Netossa were more than happy to teach her all their tricks; Catra found the couple oddly comforting, a nice, stable, older presence that she’d never had before.

But above all, Catra loved the quiet moments the most. Late sleepovers with the Best Friend Squad (her attempts to change the name to something more badass, like the Kickass Comrades, had been shot down) had, much to her surprise, become one of her favorite things. The old Catra would have scoffed seeing her now, eating sweets and giggling late into the night, but she didn’t care. Arrow Boy and Sparkles had actually become her friends, dignity be damned.

And of course, there was Adora. Beautiful, amazing, wonderful Adora, with her sparkling blue eyes and soft lips and strong arms that always ended up wrapped around Catra. She could hardly believe it was real, that Adora loved her. She wondered if she would ever be able to wake up and not stare in disbelief at the sight of Adora lying next to her, staring at her with soft, loving eyes. If one day she would stop fearing that all of it was a dream.

“Hey, lovebirds!” Glimmer shouted. “Quit being gross and get over here so you can finish helping us!”

They had spent the last two weeks in what had formerly been known as the Fright Zone, and what was soon to become Scorpia’s kingdom. The still-newly-minted princess had decided to use it as a refuge for former Horde soldiers who were looking to turn over a new leaf. “After all,” Scorpia had said, “if Catra and Adora and I all changed, everyone else can, too.”

But unsurprisingly, the place was still, as Catra put it, full of shit. So the Princess Alliance decided to clean it up and redecorate.

“You said we could take a water break!” protested Adora.

“Yeah,” said Catra, smirking. “We’re so thirsty.” She blinked innocently up at Glimmer from her perch on Adora’s lap, one arm slung around her shoulders and the other hand playing with her blonde hair.

Mermista, who was carrying a stack of boxes nearby, rolled her eyes. “Yeah you are,” she muttered. Behind her, Sea Hawk gave them a thumbs up.

Glimmer put her hands on her hips, shaking her head. “I said you could take a water break when Adora tried to lift a literal tank without shifting into She-Ra. But that was twenty minutes ago! Let’s go, you two. Chop chop.”

Adora’s gaze was fixed on Catra, a soft smile sliding across her lips. “Just a minute,” she told Glimmer, not breaking eye contact with Catra. Gently, she tipped her head upwards and kissed her. Catra let herself dissolve into the kiss, closing her eyes and exhaling.

They pulled apart only to press their foreheads together. “I think we’re annoying,” Adora stage-whispered.

Catra barely kept herself from giggling. (Giggling. What the fuck, honestly.) “You think?” she asked.

She heard Glimmer say, “Bow! Come help me!” Then she felt hands wrap around her as Bow and Glimmer bodily lifted her up off of Adora’s lap. She hissed in fake-annoyance, squirming in their grip.

“Don’t pretend you two are much better!” she shrieked as they deposited her onto a pile of stacked bedrolls. “I saw you feeding Sparkles at breakfast!”

Frosta scoffed as she used her ice powers to hang a lantern. “I get it, you’re all gross! When can we be done? I’m bored!”

Scorpia delicately set a plant down on a nearby windowsill, mindful of her claws. “Soon! Thank you so much for your help, guys. The place looks great.” Everyone beamed, pausing to look around and admire their handiwork.

It did look great. The walls had been painted a lighter color, and the hallways were now well-lit, filled with softer, more pleasant decor. The clanging of machinery still echoed, but gone was the smoke and pollution; Entrapta had spent a long time working on a more clean form of energy, one that was better for magic and the planet and whatever.

Speaking of the pig-tailed princess—“Where’s Entrapta?” asked Catra. “She didn’t want to come and invent some bot to help us?”

Perfuma adjusted her girlfriend’s placement of the potted plant, trying to give it as much sunlight as possible. “She’s very busy with all her new ethical science projects now—”

“Semi-ethical,” corrected Bow, rubbing the back of his neck.

“—But she was invited to our celebration tomorrow night! Hopefully we will see her then.”

“Another party? It never ends, does it?” Catra said to Adora, who had come back to stand at her side.

Perfuma clasped her hands together. “Oh, this one will just be a small get-together. We’ll throw a big party once all of Scorpia’s citizens move in, but this is just for us princesses!”

“And Bow and Catra and Sea Hawk,” Mermista reminded her.

Perfuma shrugged. “Honorary princesses!”

Adora cleared her throat. “Alright, team, let’s get these last few things in place. We can pick up the little bit that’s left tomorrow morning. I think it’s bedtime.”

——

“And then I said, “Uh, your ship’s on fire!’”

The room burst in laughter. Catra wiped a tear from her eye as she cackled—there was something about Mermista’s deadpan delivery that made all her stories way funnier than anyone else’s. “And did you ever run into that pirate again?” she asked.

Sea Hawk spread his arms grandly. “Why, of course! He approached us a short time later to tell us how our genius and fighting prowess inspired him, and how he had decided to become an artist and build statues in our honor. To this day, his children sing our praises around campfires.”

At the same time, Mermista shook her head and said, “Nope. Never saw him again.”

This unleashed another wave of giggles. Still snickering, Catra leaned forward in her seat and took a cookie off the plate on the table in front of her. As she did so, Frosta opened her mouth wide and pointed wordlessly at it. Catra rolled her eyes and tossed a cookie at her. She caught it in her mouth and gave a muffled cheer as she chewed.

Bow rubbed his hands together. “Okay, guys, let’s get started.” He gestured at the table in front of them, which would soon be the center of Scorpia’s strategy room. Tonight, however, it was covered with a big game board and several playing pieces, dice, and stacks of cards. “Here’s how we play—”

“We’re here!”

Entrapta practically bounced into the room, Emily close at her side, beeping cheerfully. Wrong Hordak followed close behind them, smiling his typical sheepish smile and holding a tray crammed with an almost-impossible amount of tiny pink cupcakes.

Adora stood up to greet them. “Hey, guys! Welcome to…”

Her voice trailed off abruptly as the last guest entered. Catra felt her heart begin to pound; she stood up too, curling her claws into fists. Melog, who had been sleeping next to the sofa the Best Friend Squad was sharing, sprang to its feet, hissing. The rest of the group froze, exchanging shocked glances.

Hordak (the real one) stood in the doorway, somehow managing to look both awkward and stern. “Hello,” he said shortly, his deep voice echoing slightly.

When no one answered for a long, tension-filled minute, Entrapta looked rapidly between the group and Hordak, her eyes wide with confusion. “Sorry we’re late,” she said tentatively. “Did I…did I bring too many people?”

Mermista buried her head in her hands and let out a muffled scream. Sea Hawk patted her arm sympathetically.

Catra struggled to choose between saying What is he doing here and Absolutely fucking not and just straight-up attacking him. Judging by her facial expression, across the table Frosta was thinking along the same lines.

Entrapta twirled one of her ponytails around her nervously, her smile slowing sliding off her face the longer the silence dragged on. Next to her, Wrong Hordak shifted from foot to foot. “Uh…”

Perfuma hastily jumped up, a fake smile plastered on her face. “We’re so glad you could come!” she chirped, flinging her arms around her.

Wrong Hordak joined the hug. “I have missed you, brothers!” he told them tearfully.

At Perfuma’s pointed look, Scorpia and Frosta made space for the newcomers, bringing over more chairs.

“Will you be joining us, Hordak?” Catra asked icily, sneering at him.

“Be nice,” Bow whispered to her.

“She has a point,” Glimmer whispered back.

Hordak glared right back at her. “Entrapta invited me. Am I not welcome here?”

Adora managed to pick her jaw up off the floor. “Uhhh…no, um, take a seat. Bow was just about to tell us how this game works.” She sat down, pulling Catra down with her.

Bow started to explain, occasionally being interrupted by Frosta, Perfuma, and Sea Hawk, who all had their own opinions on how the rules should be interpreted. Meanwhile, Catra hissed quietly, “Are we seriously just going to play a board game with Hordak of all people?”

“He’s changed, I guess,” Adora murmured back.

On her other side, Glimmer rolled her eyes. “Allegedly.”

After the war had ended, the Rebellion didn’t really know what to do with Hordak. Sure, he had saved Entrapta and turned against Horde Prime, but they weren’t just going to let him sit back on his throne. Originally Catra had been in favor of dumping his ass in the Crimson Wastes, but Huntara was having none of it.

So eventually the princesses settled on letting him live in Dryl with Entrapta, as long as he swore never to hold any political power or territory for the rest of his life. An oath they would make sure he held, with magic to ensure it, if necessary.

“I don’t trust him,” Catra murmured.

Adora placed a comforting hand on her thigh. “Me neither, but Entrapta trusts him. And whatever makes her happy, we’ll support.”

They watched Hordak sneer as Perfuma tried to offer him some fruit juice. She frowned back at his rude behavior, huffing in that trying-to-be-dignified-yet-offended way of hers. Frosta looked like she wanted to stick his head in an ice block. Meanwhile, Entrapta was in full science mode, spilling out a detailed lecture about dice and probability.

“Even if the thing that makes her happy is Hordak?” grimaced Glimmer.

Adora sighed, rubbed her forehead. “Even so,” she said glumly.

Bow clapped his hands, signaling the end of his rules explanation. “Okay, does everyone get it?”

“Yes,” said Catra.

“Totally,” said Glimmer.

“Yeah…” said Adora.

Bow gave them a look that suggested he knew they hadn’t been listening at all. “Okay, let’s get started!”

Thankfully, Catra was able to figure it out as she went. The game was fairly simple: the players had to try to be the first one to make it around a map of Etheria, while fighting mythical monsters and challenges along the way. She leaned forward, smirking, her competitive nature taking over. “You’re all going down,” she said, making a show of cracking her knuckles.

Glimmer scooped up the dice and began to shake them. “As if!”

Scorpia laughed and shook her head. “No, guys, Perfuma is the champion at this game. She’s beaten me every time, she’s that amazing.”

The flower princess blushed a deep crimson. “Oh, Scorpia!” she trilled. “You are amazing too!”

Catra watched this play out fondly. Despite her and Scorpia’s…rocky history, she was genuinely sorry for all the pain she’d caused her. Although Scorpia had said she forgave her, there was a while after the war where things had been awkward, uncomfortable. She was happy to see that the former Force Captain had found someone who could make her happier than Catra ever could.

Hordak made a strangled noise in the back of his throat. It took her a minute to realize that he was laughing. “This is a childish competition,” he announced, sounding annoyed.

Mermista rested her chin on her palm. “You’re just mad that you couldn’t conquer Etheria and now you can’t win this board game.”

Hordak stiffened. “How dare—”

“Okay!” Bow interceded, his voice hinging on hysteria. “Glimmer will start!”

They went around in a circle, their game pieces slowly advancing with each roll of the dice. Catra was not thrilled when Glimmer rolled four tens in a row and she kept only rolling ones and twos. Thankfully, she was able to get Sparkles back when she pulled a Brightmoon-themed card and “teleported” her to the little red and yellow spot on the board that was supposed to represent the Crimson Wastes.

Scorpia was, unsurprisingly, the best sport about this. While everyone else soon succumbed to playfully cursing each other out as they scrambled to keep their game piece ahead of the group, Scorpia was the one congratulating everyone even when they fucked her over.

Even Perfuma huffed when Frosta got her stuck in the “Northern Reach”. “This is a betrayal,” she sniffed dramatically, crossing her arms. “I will never, ever forgive you.” A moment later, she cracked a smile and winked at the younger girl to let her know she was joking.

Wrong Hordak landed on a “Magic Zone” square and whipped out a card. “Do not worry, sister! This piece of paper says the Sorcerers’ Guild has granted me the power of…time travel! I will reverse your plight!” he declared. He reached down and daintily picked up Perfuma’s piece so he could place it back on the path.

Perfuma giggled. “My hero!”

“That was supposed to be used for your piece,” Entrapta pointed out, fidgeting with a small gear as she waited for her turn.

Adora shrugged. “Eh, let him do what he wants,” she said. She leaned back and not-so-casually draped her arm over Catra’s shoulders. She leaned into her girlfriend’s touch happily.

Entrapta pulled out the recorder she clearly kept with her at all times. “Observation number two hundred and fifty-three: when playing games, rules are to be broken at the player’s convenience.”

“Now you’ve got the spirit!” chuckled Sea Hawk, who was currently attempting to steal alien chips off of Mermista’s plate. Every time she caught him, he gave her the most lovestruck eyes he could pull off until she let her snag a chip.

Wrong Hordak handed the dice to Actual Hordak. “Your turn, brother!”

Hordak took the dice emotionlessly and rolled it. A five. He moved his game piece to the appropriate square.

“You landed on a runestone!” Perfuma cheered. “That means you get to move ahead five spaces!”

Hordak frowned down at the tiny drawing. “This pathetic image looks nothing like the real Black Garnet. It fails to capture the strength, the raw power that eminented from my runestone. How comical.”

“Your runestone?” Catra repeated, raising one eyebrow. “It’s not yours anymore, Hordak.”

He glowered at her. “In a better life, it was.”

Glimmer narrowed her eyes. “Are you saying that—”

Entrapta scooped up the dice. “My turn!” she chirped.

Adora hastily stood up, gripping both Glimmer and Catra’s arms tightly. “We are going to get more fruit juice!” she said. “Bow, will you come with us?”

His grin was particularly strained. “Of course!”

They both looked at Glimmer. “Fiiiine,” she sighed, before transporting the Best Friend Squad to the nearby kitchen.

Once there, Adora immediately turned to Catra and Glimmer. Melog slunk in after them, not wanted to be separated from its owner.

“He’s a terrible person!” protested Catra, already knowing what she was going to say. “I want him out of here.”

“Everyone did terrible things while they were in the Horde,” Bow reminded her gently as he poured more fruit juice into cups. Including you was the unspoken meaning behind that sentence. She looked down at the ground.

“But,” Bow said, handing her a cup, “what matters is that they’ve changed.”

Glimmer took the juice pitcher out of his hands, kissing his cheek. “I agree with Catra,” she told him as she poured. “Hordak might have said he was sorry, but he doesn’t act like it.”

“ And ,” added Catra, emboldened by someone siding with her, “he’s just straight up gross. How someone could possibly find that greasy-haired stick-up-his-ass attractive is just absolutely beyond me—”

“I know! He’s all—” Glimmer deepened her voice, hunched her shoulders. “—‘Pathetic princesses! You know nothing of true power! I am Hordak, Prince of Evil! Mwahahaha!’”

Catra laughed so hard she choked, and almost fell over.

Even Bow, who was rooting through the cabinets looking for more napkins, chuckled. “That’s cute,” he told her.

She winked at him. “ I’m cute.”

“You are.” He pulled her into a hug from behind, pressing his lips to the side of her head.

Adora took Catra’s hand. “Just please try to refrain from killing him for tonight,” she asked. “Afterwards, you and Glimmer and Mermista can start an I Hate Hordak club if you want.”

Catra tugged playfully on her ponytail. “Don’t tempt me. I will run that club.”

Her girlfriend poked her cheek in return before helping Glimmer and Bow stack the cups of fruit juice onto a tray. Catra grabbed another bag of alien chips, just in case.

“Alright,” said Adora, carefully balancing the heavily-stacked tray and ignoring everyone else eying her worriedly. “Ready?”

Bow winced as the tray wobbled dangerously when she took a step. “Adora, do you need—”

“I got it!”

Glimmer shook her head. “Maybe we’d better walk back to the strategy room. I don’t know if those cups can survive a teleportation trip.”

“We’ll be fine!” Adora assured her, and then promptly tripped, sending the tray flying.

——

“I’m really proud of you,” Adora told her as they waved goodbye to the group. They all had to return to their own kingdoms; it still wasn’t stable to be gone for too long.

Catra looked up at her. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah, you—” She was cut off by a yell of frustration coming from the direction of the skiff waiting to take their friends back to Dryl.

The two of them watched Wrong Hordak and Entrapta attempt to bodily lift Emily onto the skiff, which was hovering a few feet above the ground. The bot was nothing more than deadweight, beeping irritably.

“Her programming is due for an update soon,” Entrapta explained. “Sometimes she gets sulky like this.”

“She doesn’t wanna say goodbye to her friends,” Frosta said. She seemed particularly pouty herself. She had become particularly clingy after the war ended, and probably wasn’t happy about having to go back to her own kingdom alone after spending so much time with everyone.

Catra could relate.

“We’ll see everyone again soon,” Glimmer reminded her, putting a comforting hand on her shoulder. “We’re throwing a celebration once Perfuma and Scorpia get everyone settled here, remember?”

“Yeah,” said Frosta, sticking out her lip grumpily.

Wrong Hordak shrieked as one of Emily’s appendages kicked him in the face. He dropped her with a thud.

“Emily!” scolded Entrapta. “Not nice!” Scorpia and Perfuma moved to help them, which definitely made things more successful. Meanwhile, Hordak watched the whole scene unfold from inside the skiff, not bothering to offer his help.

“As I was saying,” Adora said, still chuckling, “I’m really proud of you, Catra. I—I know it can be hard to keep your anger in check when you’re dealing with…”

“With the former dictator of our childhood?” she finished. “I know.”

“You’ve come a long way.”

Catra laced their fingers together, leaned against her shoulder. “So have you.”

Mermista called Frosta over to their skiff, where Sea Hawk was helping her load up their bags. The game night victor gave Glimmer a hug, then Bow, Adora, and, to her surprise, Catra. “See you later, Horde Scum,” Frosta said, parroting her mentor.

Catra grinned back at her. “See you later, princess.”

From the skiff, Mermista tossed a wadded-up piece of paper to Catra. “I look forward to it!” she shouted as Sea Hawk helped Frosta into the skiff.

“Me too!” Catra shouted back.

Adora looked curiously at the paper ball. “What’s that?”

Catra handed it to her without saying a word, smirking. Adora unfolded it, revealing a flyer.

The I HATE HORDAK Club

Calling all Etherians!

Do YOU hate the former Horde Lord?

Do YOU fantasize about ruining his day?

If so, this is the place for you!!!

Meetings will be held at Brightmoon Castle. Any questions, please see Catra or Princess Mermista.

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bigpandahero · 3 years ago

Text

The legacy of appetence（the translation of 欲望遗产 from Lofter written by 此人已死）

Original link：https://ryuusuke.lofter.com/post/1cc28a98_1cb209a44

Original author：此人已死（from lofter）

Home link：https://ryuusuke.lofter.com/

Authorized reprint translation.

thank to @ask-ivanbraginsky for your help!

chapter1:

July 20, 2017

The culprit

July 20, 2017

Potato .beef. onion.

Every time he took something off the shelf, Wang Yao would cross out a word on the list. He looked for discounted goods in various barcodes, a pen and paper in hand. He pushed his shopping cart as he walked around the supermarket. Until seeing the last thing on the list, wine.

Wang Yao went out to a supermarket very rarely.This time he went out because the refrigerator was empty, like his brain. He entered, throwing a coin and heard a Do re mi.

He walked to the shelf picking out a 700ml bottle of vodka and checked the price, cautious as a housewife, he finally chose the 50ml "baby bottle" next to him.

The checkout cashier was chewing bubble gum. They looked at him with disdain, a look that Wang YAO was accustomed to. This kind of look had been haunting him since he became an adult.

He looked down at the gray tracksuit he was wearing, and his plush slippers of the Sesame Street cartoon character. He looked like a hapless boy with a drunkard father.

He swept the colorful over-packaged goods into a sturdy plastic shopping bag—a blue squirrel logo was printed on it, its face squeezed out of shape by a box of cereal.

What kind of perversion will paint the squirrel blue.

Wang Yao heard the cashier from behind turn his head and whisper something to his colleague. He carried the plastic bag and walked out of the automatic door blankly. The toy monkeys on both sides shouted "Welcome".

He walked home, passing by an open park. There were a few young people playing baseball on the lawn. He sat on the promenade smoking a cigarette and unscrewed a bottle of ice sprite. He drank down half the bottle in one breath, then allowed the carbon dioxide to tumble in his stomach for a while.

He took out the wine bottle that he struggled to find from the plastic bag, imagined that the small metal bottle cap was the heavenly spirit cap of some heinous person, opened it with his teeth in a crisp "bom" and poured it in happily. His body began to get hot, sweating from his back in the 28-degree weather. The polyester cloth stuck to the skin, uncomfortably. He threw his leg anxiously-in the season when others were wearing short-sleeved T-shirts, he was still wearing long-sleeved trousers. In times like this he thought of the Russian, and began to scold him furiously in his mind. He silently cursed, mouthing the words that went along with his thoughts. He was suddenly interrupted, he snapping back to reality. "Hey! Damn gay! Help us pick up the ball!”

everal young people gathered together maliciously and whispered. They made nasty gestures and sneered unscrupulously in Wang Yao's direction.

Fuck.

He pressed the cigarette butt on the bench, swept away the soot from his thigh and raised his butt, bending over to pick up the baseball on the grass. He threw it at the crowd fiercely, then made a more wretched gesture.

My paramour could screw all your fucking “balls” off.

Wang Yao shook the plastic bottle in his hand and heard the remaining liquid hit the wall of the bottle with a hollow echo.

He finally took the plastic bag and went on his way, stopping to place the wine bottle down by a homeless man who laid lifeless on the side of the road against the wall.

He returned to the white-roofed house and passed by the neighbor's beautiful fence with a few swaggering violets planted in it. He inadvertently looked inside, and happened to meet the eyes of the Labrador. Even though he had moved in a month ago and had returned his flying disk a dozen times, the dog still didn't recognize him, damn it.

While the dog annoyingly barked, he glanced at the empty mailbox, then, as timid as a thief, he unscrew the door handle of his home.

The person inside the door was standing by the shoe cabinet. They smiled, watching him with a pair of indifferent purple eyes exposed under ash-gold hair.

"You came back early." Wang Yao greeted dryly. "There is nothing I need to do today. You didn't tell me you would go out—you went out again in slippers?" Wang Yao threw the key under the nose of the man who was nagging like a woman, and sat on the steps to change shoes .

the key has a key chain of panda holding a bamboo hanging on . It hurt the man's face. Wang Yao was very gloating, even though this man named Ivan Braginsky was his lover.

The keychain was the first and last time they went to the amusement park together and won with a gun. To be precise, Wang Yao won with a gun himself.

Because Ivan doesn’t have a good temper to wait for him, but Wang Yao is as stubborn as a cow.He seems to be possessed by a demon and must win the key chain.

In the end, he took the key chain from the boss who were smile flatteringly for $25 in front of the game booth which you would cost 2.50 dollars each time on shooting. Wang Yao believes that the main reason for the inaccuracy of shooting was the sexual harassment of him by Ivan during this period. Ivan—Standing upright and stomping his feet impatiently, like a dishonest vibrator, he patted Wang Yao's ass and yelled in his ear: "You fucking under the noses of these men pouched and played with a toy gun for more than half an hour, just for a piece of junk plastic!"

Of course, no one was able to help Wang Yao in the end. He was thrown into the toilet cubicle by the Russian man by the collar. It is estimated that all the men who went to the amusement park to go to the toilet that day could hear him being fucked. Now he still could memorize the smell of air freshener choking in his throat as long as he saw the panda.

Ivan turned a blind eye to Wang Yao's innocuous violence. He always indulges him in all the trivial things, and people who are not familiar with him would think that he is a good gentleman.

Ivan is being troubled by something more important-a headache gnaws at his brain like a devil, and his alcohol addiction has blurred his consciousness. He lifted the plastic bag on the ground and pressed it against the wall to hold himself who was about to fall. It took a while, and then he stood up straight again. At first, his steps were still a little staggering, but soon, he began a brisk pace, walked to the refrigerator, hummed a few unexplained Russian, twisted the refrigerator in the shape of the Eiffel Tower before opening the refrigerator door. He snorted impatiently, and tossed the food into the cold storage as before.

"You forgot to throw away the paper notes."

Wang Yao followed him to the living room, listening to unfamiliar Russian in his ears, slowly translating it into English in his head, and lightly taking a glass of tap water for himself.

"So, where's the wine?"

Wang Yao put down the glass, and the bottom of the glass touched the marble table ,letting out a crisp sigh. He stared at the swirling vortex in the cup, cold sweat was oozing clearly on his forehead, but his bones creaked in excitement. Before exhaling a breath in his chest, he answered the question from the person behind him in Russian: "I have drunk it all”.

All the words he didn't have time to say were stuffed back into his throat by the strong, opaque plastic bag with the blue squirrel on it. Ivan's forearm muscles bulged, like the thighs of a carnivore running. He tightened the mouth of the plastic bag, twisted the other's fragile neck, and dragged Wang Yao's struggling body up the stairs.

The process was extremely unsatisfactory and annoying, and the alcohol addiction made him more irritable, so he pressed Wang Yao's head and slammed twice on the newly laid pine-green wallpaper. The plastic stopped the splashing blood and the blood turned into a dark shadow on the back of the blue squirrel. Wang Yao who was rebelling was like a kitten in a bag, weak and vulnerable.

Wang Yao was thrown on the soft bed. A thick tape was wrapped around his mouth with a plastic bag to seal the last oxygen. He tried to break it with his fingers, but it was useless.

His hands were grabbed by Ivan, and he couldn't see anything. He just guessed from this strength that Ivan’s knees were pressing on his arms. It was very painful and heavy, and even the thought of resisting was blocked. Pressed under the body. Wang Yao gradually calmed down and even breathed regularly. The sound around him fluctuated in the dark with his breathing. The sound of fine plastic fragments no longer pierced the ears, but turned into a regular pulse. His head was soaked in carbon dioxide, warm and damp, squeezed in a narrow film, he looked at the only light circle in the dimness-the hands tore the uterus, holding the weak head, playing with the balance of life and death.

He finished his dying ejaculation at the end of suffocation.

Ivan helped Wang Yao get rid of the tape that bound him on his head. The tape tore off a few long black hairs, connecting to the coagulated blood entangled in the hair. He took off Wang Yao's clothes, revealing his familiar and obsessed body.

The setting sun flicked through Wang Yao's eyes, reflecting the golden light of bronze.The black hair scattered beside the beautiful face, constituting the most mysterious color in the oil painting, blurring the limitation of gender. The naked body was covered with old scars and fresh bruises, wounds which were cracking and the redness that was swollen. The body was still beautiful, graceful and weak.The bloody scars made him show the power of life, making him no longer a flawless corpse.

Those scars were incomplete by Ivan, but he still deserved to be the culprit, although most of the time Wang Yao had to take the responsibility. Yao liked enraged him, teasing him, and sometimes even gave that handsome face to two resounding slap. Even if he knew that Ivan was insane, he would still deliberately drink up the wine at home, hiding it, observing the person in front of him turn into another devil who would chase his butt to strangle him.After waking up, decorate all with a terrible sex until dawn.

“Stepan? "

"Damn it, don't call his name in front of me."

"It hurts a bit.”

Wang Yao stretched out his thin arms to block his lover's head, kissing his soft and warm lips, counting the fluffy golden eyelashes, and exhaled a few silly love words in his blended breath.

He took the initiative to open his legs to cater to the opponent's hot desire, the erect penis had already oozes transparent liquid, squeezing into his soft and moist flesh cavity.

Wang Yao cocked his hips, his legs were like two gluttonous pythons, tied tightly to Ivan's waist. His body shook with the opponent's movements, his nails sinking into the tight muscles, and he scratched red marks on the wide back.

He uttered a few high-pitched obscene words under the man, and was sobbed by the top of his penis, then he could no longer speak a complete word.

Ivan's hand passed through Wang Yao's hair and kissed his favorite eyebrows and narrow neck. His five fingers hooked the other's lovely fingers, palms pressing against each other, and the vent of lust was more delicate than the girl's mind.

Car lights flashed outside the window, and a few beams of moonlight leaked in. The silver rings on the two ring fingers complemented each other in the dimly lit room, calling for each other.

After exhausting sex, they slept with each other like two sleepy beasts.

It was early the next morning when Wang Yao opened his eyes again, and the alarm clock on the bedside stopped at number five. The people around him slept quietly in the dark, their sturdy bodies undulating with their breathing. Even in his sleep, this person's body was shrouded in a heavy sense of oppression, like a huge animal.

“I want to change the bed. "

Wang Yao stared at the mosquitoes on the ceiling intently. "This bed is yelling like a dead pig."

After waiting for a long time, no one responded to him, and he felt a little bad. Although he had predicted the result, he still had illusions and was rather self-deceiving and tragic.

He ignored the pain everywhere in his body, got up abruptly, grabbed the gray-golden hair.He picked up the heavy head from the soft pillow, and forced the purple eyes to look at him.

Then he heard a clear bark rolling out of the man's throat.

Fuck.

Discloseable information:Both Wang Yao and Ivan are American citizens.

Yao has a bad temper, so Ivan can bear it if he can bear it.

Ivan is a patient with multiple personality disorders.

The first personality is Stepan, who usually only appears after being addicted to alcohol and drunk, so it appears for a short time. It is a personality with no emotions and absolute violence. He does not love Wang Yao, and he does not love anyone. He only speaks Russian, will conceal his spasms with his fists, and has a very serious obsessive-compulsive disorder.

The second personality is a dog. His name is "Los", which means "frogfish" in Russian. Only appears out of guilty after Stepan caused irreparable pain to the loved one , so the frequency of appearance is extremely low. It means that Ivan has few guilty, because the master character is not a good guy either.Ivan and Stepan hate each other, so they don't communicate with each other, and they don't share memories.

------------------------tbc.-----------------

#rochu #hetalia #Axis Powers Hetalia #world stars hetalia #hws hetalia #hetalia world stars #hetalia rochu #hws rochu #aph rochu

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ripspaghet · 4 years ago

Text

STUPID CUPID | 01

↳ series m.list | 00 | 01 | ongoing

→ pairing: jimin x reader

→ word count: 3,309

Prologue Summary; You and Jimin have been neighbors since you were four years old and hated each other ever since. It isn't until the two of you head off to college that fate, or rather, a certain baby with wings, decides its time to teach the two of you a lesson.

→ warnings/genre: bodyswap au, enemies to lovers, slight smut, eventual smut, slow burn

</3

It's not always in the dead of the night, or the middle of a downpour, that the people we love decide to leave us.

A splash of yellow paints across the canvas of a blue sky, wings fluttering against a cool breeze. Curious little things - butterflies that is - the way they flutter about and land on anything colored brightly, your windowsill for example.

The people we love often leave during ordinary days, just like this one.

Holding your breath you inch the tip of your index finger towards it. Of course, you know butterflies aren't meant to be touched. Though, what four year old is going to pass up something as pretty as this? As you itch closer it startles, but not from you. An abrupt slam of a door shakes your walls and you turn a cheek to the retreating insect. You stare at your bedroom door. Pushing yourself off the windowsill, you make your way over, feet brushing against the carpet floor, and out the door.

"How could you!" Another slam ricochets through the house and you flinch back, nearly retreating to your room, "How dare you!"

After that moment in life, you were no longer the type of person to let serendipity rule you - so, it's only natural that you ignore it when it falls into your lap - turn and walk away as if it'd never been there, to begin with.

A week before the Switch

It hadn't been long since the sun peeked out from the horizon, but the warm body next to you is what stirs you awake, limbs stretching and contorting. Going against your better judgment you let a heavy lid peek open, only to snap it shut again.

"I saw that." An arm snakes around your shoulder and pulls you into a toned chest, his sun-kissed skin warm against yours.

"Then you should apologize for waking me up." You try wiggling out of his hold, but he follows you, nose nudging the crook of your neck while his slender fingers press into your hip bone.

"Stay."

You sit up, "Let go," Pushing the blankets from your sweaty skin you realize you wouldn't be getting any more sleep with him beside you - the literal sun himself.

His sleepy gaze follows you as you move towards your dresser drawers, "Come back. I'm sorry for waking you."

It takes only one glance to determine his motives, almond-shaped eyes flickering up and down your bare skin. He lays on his side, an elbow propping up his head, fingers combing through dark messy hair. You can't help but let your gaze wander down over the thin cotton sheets draped across his lower half. A smile ticks up the edge of your lips. More often than not, this guy has a way of forcing you to convey urges you push down. It's one of his many endearing qualities that annoy the living hell out of you.

"Come here."

Rolling your eyes you push your drawer shut again and make your way back to the bed. As soon as you slide back into his reach his hands are on you, tugging you to his lap as he rolls over. He looks up at you - eyes lowering to your exposed chest then waist, where his hands begin to wander up. When he reaches the swell of your breasts his fingertips graze along the supple skin, eliciting a sharp intake of air from you, "Say it."

Your eyes flutter open, annoyance coming full force, "That's a little cliché, don't you th-" His thumb and forefingers clamp down on your nipples and a submissive whine falls from your lips.

"I said, " He hisses, lips pressing against your sternum, "say it."

You let out a sigh, "Hoseok, "

A satisfied smile lights up his face and he releases you, letting his hands fall to your thighs, "Good girl,"

You snort, trying to distract from your flushed cheeks, "What are you getting at?" You nudge the fingers that caress you, "Don't tell me you want more this early in the-"

"I do," He leans in, speaking between slow and teasing kisses that he places along your neck, "but," He sighs, "I do need to ask you something first."

"Ask me what?" You pull away.

"Ah, " He groans, "won't you let me soften you up first?" Hoseok has always been like this, avoidant of serious topics and more than active during the sexual or unimportant ones.

"No."

His eyes shift away from yours, finding your pastel sheets more interesting, "I don't want to ruin this."

"Oh, yeah?" You begin to pull away from him again, only his grip on you tightens.

"Alright," He hums, snaking his arms around your waist, "will you be mine then?"

You freeze against him, staring with wide, unmoving eyes, "Excuse me?"

"I know, but I care about you. I even-"

"No." You shove his arms off to crawl out of the bed.

"You don't have to say it back. We can just-"

"No, we can't just. We had a deal. You were supposed to tell me if you ever developed feelings. I'm not the slightest bit interested in a relationship, or you for that matter."

He rolls his eyes as you put your clothes on, "I've always had feelings for you. I only said I didn't so I'd have a chance."

You freeze, turning to look back at him as he sits up, "Seriously?"

"I'm in love with you ____." He smiles as if he's just said the simplest thing in the world. Like it's easy for him to just give away everything he is to someone else - someone like you no less. A person who couldn't give a rat's ass for his so-called feelings.

You let out a dry laugh and turn towards the bathroom, "Love, huh?"

"Give me a chance to prove it and I'll have you falling for me in a week."

"I have no interest in love, Hoseok."

Hoseok clicks his tongue, "So cold, you won't even budge an inch?"

"What is it with men and not knowing what the word no means?" You pick up your toothbrush only to feel hands smooth over your hips and enclose you in a pair of strong arms. Where your skin meets him, a flame blooms, though you choose to ignore it to instead squeeze toothpaste onto your brush.

"Say you'll think about it."

You turn around to face him, your chest touching his, "If I say that, will you get out?"

He nods with satisfaction.

You place your toothbrush in your mouth and push him away from you, "I'll think about it."

"Good, " He smiles, "I'll be going overseas to visit my sister this weekend. By the time I get back, you'll have decided. Right?"

"Sure," You feign interest and begin brushing your teeth.

"'Think about it', as if." You scoff, "I've told him a thousand times over that I'm not interested. After this, we're done. I've already blocked him."

"I mean, I can't blame the guy. You've been going at it for over a year now."

"Jin," You grab the finger his pointing at you accusingly, "he knows next to nothing about me."

He hums, taking his hand back, and passing you a paper bag that's filled with your favorite breakfast pastry, "I just saying, maybe you should give him an actual chance this time."

"Why?" You raise an eyebrow as you take the bag from him, "So he can prove me right?"

"You haven't been in a real relationship since high school. You can't act like you know what it's gonna be like."

"How much different can relationships be now? They're nothing but trouble. I fail to see how that can change just because I'm older." You furrow your brow while picking at your food.

"Relationships aren't trouble, they're work. You're just too lazy and cold hearted to see that."

You groan and take a drink from your coffee, "Whatever, as if you'd understand. You fall in love with everything with a pulse."

He nods at you, unashamed, "Love is the seasoning of life - to live without it is to be dead."

"You're so melodramatic."

"Alright, change of subject. I've been hearing whispers from people." Jin smiles brightly at you.

"Oh? And what's that? More gossip?"

"Gossip?" He scoffs, "I'll have you know that this is top-quality news I'm gathering day to day and I ought to be running an article for this school."

"Tch, " You take a bite out of your breakfast, willing yourself to ignore your elder.

"Anyway," He huffs dramatically, "as I was saying, this Valentine's Day there's going to be a big party at the Jjang house-"

"There's always a big party at Jjang."

He narrows his eyes at you, "If you'd let me finish I was going to say, they're making it so that everyone who shows up has to wear red and a mask, or you're not allowed in."

You swallow your food and cough, nearly choking, "Huh?"

"Yup, they finally got sick of all the hate the art department dishes out on them."

"Can you blame us?" The booth cushion dips beside you and you turn to see another one of your friends now leaning over you to steal a piece of your breakfast, "My grandmother could throw a better party than those guys and she's dead."

Jin chokes on his drink, "Jungkook! Your poor grandmother!"

You snort, "Hey, Kookie."

Jungkook gives you a goofy smile as he chews before turning back to Jin, "My grandma is alive and well, Hyung. It's only a metaphor."

"A metaphor?" Jin sputters, "Do you even know what a metaphor is?"

Jungkook shrugs and smiles when you pass him a bag of donut-holes, "Not exactly."

"I think what he said can be implied as a metaphor."

Jin's eyes cut over to you, "Yeah, well, you're as much of an idiot as he is, if not more so." A sack of donuts slaps against your chest and you catch it before it falls into your lap, "You two need to go before you're late to that practice again."

"Alright, but before that how'd it go with that girl Yuna?"

Jin's eyes snap back in your direction as he sucks in a sharp breath of air, only to choke on the egg sandwich he'd been chewing. Coughing profusely, he lets out a croak, "What the hell?"

You bite your lip to keep from laughing, watching as your friend wipes the egg off his face, which is more than you can say for Jungkook. He's cackling so hard that people in the cafe are starting to turn their heads.

"Honestly, I bought you both breakfast and now you're harassing me in public," Jin grumbles under his breath.

After a bit more "harassment" you and Jungkook leave Jin to head to your practice. As strange as it is for an art major you've had an obsession with sports since you could remember. So, you joined one of the few sports teams available at your university your freshman year. You also convinced Jungkook to join alongside you. Convincing him wasn't that difficult either, seeing as both of you are extremely competitive. All it took was a bit of taunting.

"Early as always you two." A hand pats your shoulder and you laugh nervously.

"Sorry, Irene."

"Whatever," She drops her sarcastic tone, replacing it with a cheerful laugh, "just hurry up and get changed. I swear you do on purpose."

You turn to look at her,"Do what?"

She glances at Jungkook, who's already left you behind to get changed, "Oh, nothing." She pats your shoulder again with what you might call a forced smile, "I wouldn't want things to be awkward."

You raise a brow as Irene leaves you be to start warm-ups, "Okay?"

Irene is the team captain and a good friend of yours. It's hard not to be her friend when she's so easy to get along with, although you've shared a few weird moments with her that suggests something to do with Jungkook. You've suspected for a while now that she may have a crush on your best friend, but being unsure you refuse to help her or get involved in any way. Jungkook hates when you meddle with his love life, which you learned from experience when you tried to set him up with a girl in your anatomy class. Long story short, Kookie was forced to turn that girl down and was upset with you for a week about it. Ever since you've refused to help any of the girls that have approached you to get to him.

Once in the dressing room, you quickly change clothes and lace up your shoes after tying your hair up.

Love just isn't something you should involve yourself with. Whether it's for yourself or your friends. Who knows, maybe bad luck with love runs in the family.

You leave the dressing room and approach where Jungkook waits for you on the court, "Warm ups?"

"Yeah," He nods, "Irene wants us to catch up with the others. So, she's probably going to give us more to do once everyone is finished. Let's get this done as fast as possible."

"Alright, full speed ahead." You playfully bounce on your toes a few times before making your way to the other side of the net across from Jungkook as he tosses the volleyball from hand to hand, "Show me what you got, virgin."

He laughs, "I think you have the wrong idea about me."

"Then you shouldn't have a problem proving it, right?"

"Just ask your sister."

"I don't have a-"

"Wait nine months."

"Huh?"

With that Jungkook tosses the ball up and jumps for it, landing a harsh slap on it that sends it hurtling through the air toward you - only, you're caught off guard when someone suddenly shouts at you and your head whips around. The ball slams into your chest, knocking the wind out of you with a dramatic 'oof'. And stood there, at the entrance of the gym, is a group of dance majors that you can't stop yourself from scowling at. Especially, when you notice him silently avoiding your eyes at the center of the group.

The one on his left laughs, having seen you land firmly on your ass, "Did you both see that?"

"Glad we came in late today. We could've missed it, right, Jimin?" The other nudges him.

He hums in response but doesn't look in your direction, just continues toward the dance studio.

Sixteen Years Before the Switch

"She's pretty isn't she, Jimin?"

The boy shifts his gaze before hiding behind his mother's leg.

"Why don't you go play? I'll be right here. I'm not going anywhere."

"Can I?"

She nods with an encouraging smile, "She won't bite."

Jimin was only five at the time, you four and typically, when two children are neighbors they become friends, sometimes best friends for that matter, but that just wasn't the case with you and Jimin.

"Hi, I'm Jimin. Me, my mommy, and daddy live next door."

You didn't respond, just continued playing with your blue toy truck, quietly ignoring the boy next to you.

"I like the color of your truck."

You glanced over your shoulder at him, only to quickly look away again when you met his eyes. His presence was making you nervous, you only wanted him to go away. But, he didn't take your rushed gaze as a sign to give up and go away, if anything it only made him think to try harder and that's when he reached for your hand, "Let be friends-"

"Leave me alone!"

Sure, you didn't necessarily bite him, as his mother had suggested, but you sure as hell pushed him away and ran. Admittedly, it wasn't Jimin's fault. Moving to Busan had been the beginning of the end for you. Your Mom hoped that maybe Jimin and you would hit it off. After so much change in your lives, she wanted at least you to be happy, even if she wasn't. Though, the similar interest in sports and sweets made no difference. The bickering never ended between Jimin and you. Coaches were forced to put one of you on the bench, while the other played, or someone was getting hurt. If your families ever had dinner together, you fought over dessert.

"You'll only get hurt."

"Me being a girl makes no difference in my abilities to plow you into the ground, Jimin!" You throw the soccer ball at his face, landing a satisfying thwack.

You think Jimin grew to hate you for it. Not that it mattered at the time, since you disliked him first.

"But that's the last piece, Momma."

"Jimin is our guest ____. Don't be rude."

"But-"

"No buts."

You glared at Jimin across the table, wishing your legs were long enough to kick him from where you sat.

The older you got, the worse it became.

"What did you say?"

Your teammate scowls back at you, "I said, you're a girl and outta act like one."

"And who are you to say what a girl outta act like?" You shove him into the lockers just behind him and he yelps in surprise.

"Hey,"

You pause, head-turning to the left where the entrance to the hallway is.

"Don't you think you're being a bit reckless?"

Stepping back from your teammate, you sigh, "Great, just what I need."

Jimin has always been the popular type, loved by everyone for acting like someone he isn't. That's probably what annoyed you the most about him when you got older, he was never himself. He always lied about what he thought or how he felt to please others while acting completely different when no one else was around.

"Leave him alone and go to class, ____."

"Or what?" You laugh dryly, "You're talking as if I'm bullying this guy when he's the one who-"

"Didn't you hear me? Are you deaf?"

Your glare sharpens, "Oh, I heard you, Park."

Long story short, that was the first time you'd ever been suspended. Your mother was pissed, to say the least, and you quit the soccer team that year.

A week before the Switch

Jimin eyes you from the entrance of the gym, expressionless as his friends cut up on either side of him. You can't help the scowl that contorts your face, nor the tension that builds up in your shoulders. It's been a few months since you've seen him on campus and you'd almost forgotten about him, until now.

"You alright?"

You take Jungkook's hand and stand back up, "Fine." You dust off your bottom with a sigh. Another thing, none of your friends know about Jimin. Seeing as he is someone you wish you never knew, it makes sense that you avoid even the subject of him like the pledge.

"Let's start over, you hit this time." Jungkook passes you the ball then turns to head back under the net.

With a solid nod, you force yourself to relax, putting all your tension into your fingertips that now grip the ball.

Jimin just so happens to also have a love for the arts, which has lead to the two of you attending the same university - him being a dance major and you, art. Luckily, you rarely see each other since dance majors normally reside on the opposite side of campus. On the off chance, you do see him it's always because of volleyball practice or one of his friends, who just so happens to be an art major.

"____, earth to ____?"

"Sorry," You toss the ball up and slam your hand against it, sending it through the air and over the net.

"Nice," Jungkook bumps the ball back to you. You run for it, the feeling of eyes following you.

You have a sinking feeling that something super annoying is in the works.

To be tagged send an ask🏹💌

#bts au #park jimin #jimin #bts jimin #jimin au #jimin x reader #stupid cupid | 01 #stupid cupid series #bts crack #enemies to friends to lovers #enemies to lovers #childhood enemies #jimin fanfic #body swap au #eventual smut #bts slow burn

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rcbis · 4 years ago

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ʿ ✰ ‘ 〄 ♯𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐅𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐋. ∕ RECAP.

ꜱᴏᴜʀᴄᴇ: ꜱɴᴀᴘᴄʜᴀᴛ

as she chewed on a mint-flavored stick of gum, 𝐑𝐔𝐁𝐈 watched as the producer gave her the green light to give her brief intro, which urged her to maneuver the candy under her tongue for the time being. “yooo, it’s been a minute. i already know y’all gon’ ask me some off the wall shit, but i’m ready. so, c’mon.” ( @fiancehq )

♯𝟏: how does it feel to be ending another season?

“this shit been long as hell, but i can’t complain because there were some good times. and my pockets looking good off the strength of these checks alone, so.” she chuckled, shrugging her shoulders then after. “nah, but i’m excited to see what the next season has in store for the girl.”

♯𝟐: compared to the beginning of the first season, you’ve been very social this time around. have you made any solid friendships?

“y’all calling me a loser ‘asum? that’s brazy.” she snickered faintly, “nah, but solid friendships? i’m cool with whoever is cool with me. i’d say i’ve got close with 𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐈𝐀, though. that’s my sister. other than that, i just talk to whoever got good energy. i did start to fall back a little after the whole situation before our miami trip. only because people started moving mad weird, like huh? i don’t know what that was about, but i’m straight. i’m not here for friendships anyway.”

♯𝟑: if we can bring attention to the situation you're speaking of, there have been things said about the parties involved, including some outsiders. viewers also dubbed you as a homewrecker and described that you stood in the way of someone’s opportunity at finding love. would you like to address/comment on the whole thing, being that you’ve mostly remained quiet about it?

“the way you worded that is sending me, but i knew y’all was gon’ shove this down my throat. pause.” 𝐑𝐔𝐁𝐈, once again, found herself laughing at something during this documented interview. but, she was a naturally playful person, which she believes many have come to find out since her arrival on the show. “man, the way that shit was dragged the fuck out? like, i know it can get boring ‘round here in the drama department, but give it a rest? like, i didn’t come here with the intentions of channeling my inner 𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐂𝐈𝐀 𝐊𝐄𝐘𝐒, but i mean. no, wait. lemme be serious before you people nail me to a cross.” 𝐑𝐔 laughed, waving her hands as in to stop. “honestly, tho. people don’t know what happened behind closed doors so it’s easy to paint me out as a bad guy. i don’t care. i stayed quiet ‘cause i ain’t feel the need to respond to every little thing unlike some people but if that’s how they wanted to go about it? go ‘head. i only ask that y’all leave this shit in season two like deadass. don’t tie my nigga’s name to nobody but me. everyone happy, so let it go and find some business.”

♯𝟒: what is your response to how viewers have responded to you and 𝐉𝐀𝐒𝐎𝐍’s relationship?

“again? don’t care. i only addressed one of the few negative things said about us, not because i was bothered, but because that shit is funny. how you mad i’m talking to my nigga? like that’s the point of the show, dummy. anyway, what matters is that we’re happy the rest of that shit doesn’t matter,” she explained.

♯𝟓: it’s been to our attention that 𝐉𝐀𝐒𝐎𝐍 has a few exes on the show. is that something you two have talked about and what are your thoughts on it?

“the man is a treesh like no gas. but, we knew that, though.” 𝐑𝐔𝐁𝐈 waited until her laughter sobered to go on with answering the question. “nah, but he told me about them. ‘ion feel no way about it forreal. nobody can make me feel threatened trust me. they just gotta keep that shit cute and we good.”

♯𝟔: what are you most looking forward to this next season? and do you see yourself marrying 𝐉𝐀𝐒𝐎𝐍?

“hmm, i’m looking forward to continuing to grow my relationship and strengthen what we have. i’m also looking to win more games because we know the girl does a lot of that,” she replied with a playful grin before humorously resting for the last part of the question. “okay, one day i’m gon’ stop playing, i promise. but, yeah that’s my baby forever. he knows that.”

#didnt proofread so!#ʿ ✰ ‘ 〄 ♯𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐏𝐈𝐑𝐔𝐁𝐀𝐑𝐁𝐈𝐄. ∕ ˛ @DVLPMNT. ʾ

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jonah-aesthetic · 4 years ago

Text

That One Pt.3 I Jonah Marais

Jonah Marais X Reader / Ivette X Daniel Seavey

Plot: Jonah kidnaps the reader into showing her who he is. They’re something like friends as she faces the deal her dad gives her to change her career path. Ivette couldn’t be more supportive for her best friend.

Word count: 5.6k

Author’s Note: Um this series is longer then I thought oh well I’m proud of it. I wish I put in more Jonah, but next part with hopefully have that as your relationship blossoms. Um I just realised Jonah is a pianist and not a guitarist I feel so dumb for making that mistake. Not edited.

Rating: 16+

One Two

---------

Days continued to past by like seasons, painfully slow. As if you were waiting for the October breeze in the middle of summer. Finals came and gone shedding you of dreading nights of studying, coffees with seven espresso shots, and long early 2000s playlists. You haven’t heard from Trey since the night of the party and you assumed weren’t going to hear from him again.

You were still furious with Jonah, he had you in his bed and said nothing about it. He was probably use to having girls in his bed and didn’t bother making an excuse. Your heart grew fonder from him as the days went on as your brain’s resentment bloomed stronger. The great battle between the brain and the heart has begun.

“You know you could come with us.” Ivette’s voice sliced through your thoughts. You both were curled into each other on your double bed in your one person dorm. A soft white fleece blanket cover in orange pumpkins engulfed the both of you, Bottles of pop scattered all around you as well as bags of candies and chips. The light was off as you both watch To All The Boys I’ve Loved Before for the tenth time this week.

“To the gala?” You asked with an amused eyebrow. The gala in question was the annual auto auction for richest families in the city. This year it was a 1956 Breathtaking Chevrolet Corvette Convertible. Gorgeous metals, pristine cherry red paint, and an engine purred like nothing before. It was a car that you’d probably kill for.

“Yes, I know you hate them-”

“I don’t hate them, I severely don’t like them. There’s a difference.”

“There’s really not. Anyways it’d be fun if you came. You’d get to mingle with hot Richies and maybe take one home for the night.” Ivette made her voice as innocent as she could. Leaning more into your side with brown puppy dog eyes.

“You’re going with Daniel I don’t want to crash the date and Julie thinks Jonah and I are together.” You sigh looking at your moving feet under the thin blanket. They poke out revealing your still healing wounds, starting yo close with nothing but tiny scars. Jonah was very precise with disinfecting them. Without him they would’ve been infected deeply right now.

“Okay, it’s up to you.” Ivette didn’t push. She knew there was something going on between the two of you. Your best friend didn’t know exactly what but it was something, she didn’t tell you what to do wanting you to figure it out on your own. Sometimes you wish she’d push ans prod at you about it, but at the same time you were grateful for her.

“I love you.” You say giving her a small smile, she returned the words and hugged you close to her. Your phone rang and buzzed on your night stand cutting the moment you were sharing with your best friend. You felt Ivette move as she reached for it, confusion etch into her dark brows. “Who is it?” you ask.

“Its..It’s your dad.” You sat up at the information, shock running in your veins. “What.” You asked dubious, you grasp the phone into your hands not believing what she had said. Your dad’s name glowed at the top on the screen with the a blank picture. He didn’t deserve one. You glanced at Ivette, she shared the same expression you did. Then you answered it.

“Y/n How has the semester been going?” His voice was almost robotic. Of course the only thing he cared about was the family legacy that you didn’t want.

“Why are you calling me?” You ask coldly remembering the last time you interacted with him. In your room throwing everyone of your paintings is a box telling you that this wasn’t a career path he wanted you on. He never saw the hours you spend on them, never cared to actually look at what you brought to live.

He found a premed program and you were going to attend weather you wanted to or not. Of course he told you he didn’t want to see your life fade out and he was doing this because he cared about you. Your dad continued to put your life’s work into the attic with no further discussion. At that point you were mentally drain and didn’t fight him on it.

“Look I know I haven’t been fair to you. I just..I didn’t want to see you sit there and do nothing with your life. I thought painting was a hobby not a passion, but I went up into the attic recently and saw them tucked into the corner. I was amazed at what you created with a brush and a little colour.” His voice had more expression in it.

“What are you getting at? I was busy,” You say glance at Ivette sitting against the head bored observation written in her eyes. Chewing at her raw finger tips.

“If you can sell one of your painting for two grand you can drop out. And I’ll put you through art school.” He sighed like he was already regretting his discussion.

“Are you serious?” You asked not being about to control your excitement. He was giving you a chance even if it was just a sliver it was something.

“Yes you’re miserable I know this because you haven’t said anything me for two years.” regret dripping in his voice.

“Two grand for one painting?” You asked as if you didn’t hear him word for word.

“Yes those are my conditions, don’t make me regret it.” The line goes dead and you stare at the wall flabbergasted still processing the information.

-----------

I pressed his body against the wall with the all the strength I had. He could over power me with any wrong move I chose to make. The silver tip of my dagger tug into his throat, olive skin sizzled under the touch of it making the Alpha seethe at the pain you were inflicting on him.

Do you think you can over power me little Omega the humour in his question was like venom

Where is Kaden I growled at him, the anger and fear raiding off me.

I killed him, I couldn't have my precious mate fall in love with a pathetic human

Without thinking you ran the dagger across his throat, the skin parting and burning at the touch of it. Red blood erupted from the cut, flowing down the blade and my hands. Shock was written in his eyes and a whimper left his lips.

I loved you he accused as his blood choked out of his mouth and bubbled at the fresh cut on his throat. I never loved you it was a lie to get him back. I seethed at him,

Ungrateful I gave you this kingdom. I ga- the dagger found the way into his heart cutting off his wretched words. Warm blood splattered across my face and it felt like sweet sweet revenge upon him. I plunged the dagger deeper into his chest, feeling the way it pierced through his heart. His eyes rolled into the back of his head, body falling limp to the ground your grasp on him faltering.

I felt the second he died, the breaking of the matting bond and the power of the alpha swarm into my body. Redemption w-his green eyes stalked onto me-wait that didn't happen!

The Presence of Him tore you from the beautiful universe of werewolves. Ink appeared on the pages of the book between your fingers again. Jonah leaned against a book shelve half covered by your book. You narrowed your eyes and glared at him. Sighing heavily you reluctantly put your book down, you were at a good part and wasn't exactly happy to be interrupted.

“What do you want? I’m currently busy.” You Grumble at him from a bay window inside the library. The sky was reaching a midnight blue as the stars gleamed and sparkled. Lights inside didn’t shine as bright as the ones at Chocolate Shop, those ones were luminescent. Threading through Jonah’s curls and making them gorgeously lighter. His eyes were a bright green that seems to call your name-stop!

“Sorry to interrupt, must of been a good part from the expression you were making.” He says leaning against a book shelf watching you from your little nook. The leather jacket he wore circled his lean biceps flawlessly, He wore all black. His bruises before had faded and healed clean as the grey lion pendant dangled at his chest.

“You did. But now that you’re hear might as well get on with it.” You say now wondering what expression you were making awhile reading.

“Ivette didn’t tell you? Her phone must be dead.” Confusion was displayed on his sharp features. At the small mention of Ivette being in trouble you scrambled for your phone. Mind scattering on what could of possible happened to her when Daniel was on watch. Heart picking up speed as you found that the useless device in your hands was dead.

“What happened to her?” You ask abruptly, getting to your feet and forgetting about your book. “Calm down, she’s fine. No limbs missing and all her blood is in tact.” Jonah says easing your raging mind. “Ivette’s tire pressure was too high, she ran over a massive rock and it exploded.”

“Well what are you waiting for lets go.” You insist walking past him urgent to see if Ivette was truly okay. Sure Jonah said she was but you had to see for yourself. “Your book.” Jonah called over his shoulder, still in the same position watching you amazed. “Right my book.” You mumble to yourself as you go back and retrieved it on the velvet cushion.

Jonah’s Jeep had the harsh contrast of Ivette’s Range, while hers smelled of cherries and light vanilla Jonah’s had smelled of sandalwood and cinnamon. The heavy aroma of a male was evident in the seat of the passenger seat. Radio hummed like that night of the party, Jonah’s fingers drummed to the beat. His rings clanking against the steering wheel and you wondered what they’s feel like dancing on your soft skin. What would his warm fingers feel like gripping your chin while he made you look into his green eyes. Stop.

“What street was it on?” You asked still looking outside the passenger window. Head resting in your palm watching the trees pass on the highway. You wondered what happened to Ivette’s heels, because they weren’t sitting on the floor of Jonah’s vehicle anymore.

“I lied.” Jonah says coolly, your head snaps to him. “What do you mean you lied?” Your voice furious. “Ivette is at the fraternity watching Frozen 2 with Daniel and Zach.” His voice nonchalant as he kept his eyes on the road.

“Stop this car Jonah or I swear I’ll jump out.” You threatened, your hand on the door knob. “You’re not go-” You unbuckle your seat belt, pulling the door open. The interior light beams on. His face falls watching you scoot closer to the door. The adrenaline from the rage you held for him blocked all rationality. The pavement races past the tire as the wind kissing your legs and cheeks, whipping through your hair with a wicked breeze .

The Jeep swerves as he grabs your wrist yanking you back in the car. The vehicle behind him honks as he swerves the Jeep again to reach across from you and slam the door shut. The silent anger on his stone cold face deflates yours. you finally got under his skin. You smile to yourself as you look out the window again.

“Why would you think of doing something like that?” The roar of his voice made you flinch. You didn’t dare look at him knowing he was burning holes into the fabric of your shirt. That angry passion for your well being was attractive to say the least.

“Honestly Jonah why do you care all of a sudden?” Your voice flat. If you acted like you had no feelings for him maybe you’d be able to trick your heart into thinking it was real.

He said nothing as if he didn’t have an answer. But he had multiple and had no idea which one to pick. He didn’t and let the silence fill in. He glanced at you every ten minutes that passed, you could tell by the way the leather groaned at his movement. He drove forty-five minutes out of town just to show you the view of it on a massive cliff.

He yanked the steering wheel all the way to the left taking a sharp left. With fast hands he spun it all the right and reversed to the edge of the cliff. You watched him with observant eyes as Jonah popped the trunk, unbuckling himself as he got out of the Jeep. Not saying a word to you as he crawled into the back.

Why did he bring you here? why had he reacted the way he did when you were trying to hop out of the moving Jeep? Although you had to admit that it was a tad bit too much, even for Ivette. There wasn’t a clear answer for him.

The open of the passenger door had you jumping out of your skin. Heart skipping a beat, confused you didn’t sense his presence reach you. Looking up at him with doe eyes, his complex soft in the moonlight. Not an ounce of anger in sight.

“Come,” his voice gentle offering his right hand to you. The softness of him reminded you of how he took care of you that night at the ice cream shop. Cleaning your wounds and feeding you ice cream. Maybe that’s why your chose to place your hand in his. Warmth crawled up your forearm and stopped at your shoulder blade. His hand fit in yours like a puzzle piece like it was meant to be there.

Silently Jonah guided you to the back of the Jeep, keeping you close to his body as he parked fairly close to the edge. You leaned into him closer once your foot kissed the edge and dirt flung off the cliff. Breath catching in your throat as your heart dropped in your stomach. “I got you.” Jonah whispered pulling you closer into his side. You looked up at him, all you saw was his jawline but you were beyond grateful he didn’t feed you to the cliff.

Your fingers ached to gasp the back of his neck and pull him to your lips. He was making it harder each day to resist the urge of him. Warm hands wrapping on your hips had you gasping, digging into the fabric of your shirt he lifted you onto the back of his Jeep. Blankets coated the hard plastic floor of the Jeep making it more comfortable.

The view of your city in the dead of night was breathtaking. Street light, traffic light and store light illuminated it. Like is had been the only star left in the sky. “Gorgeous isn’t it?” Jonah’s breath hits your neck and you now realised how close he was sitting next to you.

“What am I doing here, Jonah.”

You turn your head to him, noses almost grazing each other. You’re meet with his eyes and a small sigh leaves your lips. The green was the exact colour of an oak tree leaf, small flecks of brown floated into his flawless swirls of green. You could spot each individual stand of his curls upon his forehead. Light stubble mingled onto his jawline reaching his cheeks vaguely. There was a faint scab on his eye from a previous wound you wouldn’t of spotted out if you weren’t so close to him.

Fuck.

“I wanted to show you view of the city, stunning from the outside at a certain time. But if you reach inside you can spot all the flaws it has to offer and yet you’re still in love with it.” Jonah swallows harshly and you could see how his Adam’s apple bob. You finally pull your gaze away from him hearing your heart pound in your ears.

“It’s the point of view you look at it. You could despise it from the pollution it causes and end up leaving. Or you could love it know it’s flaws and help take care of it.” You spot Chocolate Shop close enough to see the glowing brown letters.

“You only see the outskirts of me, I’m here to show you the inner point of view of thee Jonah Marais.” You turn to him again and raised your eyebrows at him amused.

“and who is Thee Jonah Marais.” You mocked him playfully.

“I’m serious. Let me show you and you’ll find out along the way.” He shrugs his shoulders as in question towards you.

You’re quiet looking at him searching for anything. Not green eyes looked to the side and there was no biting of the lip. Zero fidgeting and zero wavered octave in his voice. He wasn’t playing around like you thought he was. If he was willingly to reach out, trick you, and make the effort to tell you then you’d let him with no resistance.

“Who is Jonah Marais?” You asked,

He tells you the entire story of his life, every year of his life he could remember. How he was just a kid in his room going live on Younow to finding his the guys and starting a band with them. How it was a rocky begging with barely any gigs to being booked every weekend for six weeks at a time.To adopting Sawyer and moving out for college. Jonah held this rock star persona about him scared to let people in. You were so wrong about him and you felt like shit for it, maybe he’d forgive you for it.

Now You were curled up into the corner of Jonah’s Jeep covered in blankets. The cold breeze of the night air getting to you. He strummed his acoustic guitar that he seemed to always have tucked into the back seat. Fingers changing against the strings making a beautiful melody. He sat at the edge of the Jeep letting his legs dangle off, his back to you as he hummed.

I can’t even hide it

I haven’t stop thinking about your lips

mm, your lips, yeah I losing my mind

It’s been too long, I’m missing your kiss

yeah, your kiss

Jonah’s voice is soft as it tangles with the stings of the instrument perfectly. Almost the same octaves of an angel, gentle and flawless. No scratch that a god the sound pulled you to him which felt slightly strange to you. Your body wanted to be by his side watching his fingers pick at the strings. Instead you nuzzled into the blankets further.

you

you’ve been there through it all

you answered all my calls

you

I can’t believe I let you go

Beautiful, you let the thoughts of him flow freely. Not scolding yourself for thinking them. It was like you were meeting him for the first time, a side of Jonah you’ve never seen before. Even his vaguely muscular back was perfect, They were most likely sculpted by god himself if Jonah wasn’t already him.

Tears and slamming doors

I’m falling, now on the floor

Begging, begging please

you don’t want me no more.

A small innocent yawn passing your lips halted Jonah’s voice and finger picking. Looking back at you with a tired glance full of worry. Looking into his green pools you yawned again like a kitten and Jonah couldn’t help but swoon. Sleep was swarming your body and Jonah could tell by the dopey smile on your face. But all you wanted was him to start playing the guitar again.

“Don’t fall asleep again you’ll end up in my bed again.” Jonah warns,

That makes you stare at him blankly full attention on him, “How did I wake up in your bed again? ‘Cause all I remember is the ice cream and the lights were out after that.”

He tells you, including the part where you woke up, Coddling Sawyer’s head in your lap. Throwing an old t-shirt at you in hopes you’ll change out of your dress. Prepping the couch for a hard’s night sleep.You wanting him to stay until you fell asleep, but not wanting to sleep.

“Oh.” You look at the blanket not wanting to look at him. “I asked you to sleep in bed with me?” You voice so much softer then before. “Yes.” was his only response. You believed him, who would he lie about something so small. You’re upset with yourself that you let your feelings take the steering wheel.

“Look you were intoxicated and half asleep, everybody wants someone when they’re like that. Don’t beat yourself up.” Jonah says scooting a little closer, placing his guitar down, tiny reassurance that it really was okay.

“Thank you.” You glance back up at him giving Jonah a delicate smile. He returns it, “Let’s get you home, the sun is rising.” he says offering you a hand. Just past his head you spot light blues and pinks blending in with the bright yellow of the sun. You spent the entire night with Jonah and you didn't even realise, Talking with him only felt like an hour, give or take.

“I guess it is.” You say letting your hand slip into his. You flinch at the warmth it caused to bloom in your shoulder blades, you haven’t gotten use to it.

---------

Ivette drove you to your parents house the next weekend. You needed to pick a painting to sell or at least put it up for bidding. Your car was still in the shop. It’s been months and you’re about to give up on it. But Ivette was gladly willing to drive you said it was a quick road trip.

The attic’s floor creaked with every step you took searching for that breathtaking painting. You would see between to floorboards into the den and began to wonder if it was safe to be up here. “What about this one?” Ivette’s optimistic voice left you perplex. Glancing up you sighed staring the painting in the eyes.

“No body in there right mind would pay two grand of a a faceless watercolour painting of Phcahontas.”

“I would.” Ivette shrugs before putting the canvas back into the bin that said watercolour. You shake your head and laugh playfully. “That’s because you’re my best friend Ivette.”

“Yes, and the painting your selling I’m buying.”

“Um. No, you’re not...Ivette I swear if you buy this canvas. I won’t speak to you for a month.” You threaten digging through the landscape acrylic paint.

“It’s only a month.” Ivette says pulling up a cafe picture done in all pencil crayon. You and you shake your head.

“I’m serious. I have to do this on my own.” You say honestly, flicking through watercolour ocean life. Multiple bins were full of stories you created with your hands. Divided by the media you used to make them and the surface you made them on like canvas or card-stock.

“Fine. What happens if you sell it for lets say five-hundred-thousand?” She asks her attention mainly on picking out art piece she thinks are worth it.

“None of my paintings are worth that, but if and that’s a big if. Pay you back for all the things you gave me.” You say still digging and now realising they were sorted into years. Damn you painted anything you could think of.

“No you’re not!” Ivette basically yells at you and your eyes widen in shock at the random out burst.

“Okay you fucking psycho. I would get a vehicle. A used one that would run on four wheels just fine.” You say really thinking about it, that’s what you loved about Ivette she listened to you and never judge you for anything.

“I think that’s a perfect stat.” She purred like that was the answer she was looking for. An hour whizzes by scavenging for the most likely candidate and goofing around with Ivette. Skipping directly over painting of your family you did, surprisingly there’s a lot. Like the one with your dad painted into the king of hell, or Ivette painted as a goddess.

“I think I found it!” Ivette shouts so loud it causes the family dog to bark. Your face is blank as you stare at the canvas hanging from her finger tips. The second painting you had painted for spirit animal week back in high school. First you painted a doe. Your art teacher said it was un-gradable by how perfectly you captured yourself in it.

That lion dangling from your best friend’s fingers was of Jonah’s spirit animal. You had a brief thing for him back then and if anyone saw it back then they’d know exactly who it was. he always carried himself like the king. That school was his domain to say the least, not to mention he always wore the lion pendent around his neck. The same one he wears to this day.

“That’s the one.” you say reluctantly. If you were going to sell an art piece for two thousand it’d be this one. You’ve spent hours on that one piece, it was your most dedicated painting as embarrassing as it was to admit.

You took a few pictures of the painting before packing it into the trunk of Ivette’s Range. Posting it on a few website for bidding you hoped it go for the wanting price. Giving her a small nod Ivette started the hour drive back to campus with a coffee run.

------

The sun stretched through the massive window of Ivette’s gorgeous loft. Kissing the top on her glass table top. Notes and text books of your other classes spread along the glass leaving small gaps between. Nothing big was coming up but you liked refreshing your brain with the keyed information. This hack saved you from getting confused in your college courses, only god knows how perplexed in high school classes.

Sure your dad gave you a sliver to dodge all of this but you weren’t going to relay on it. Of course you prayed to the sun and the moon that it would sell. And that’s why the painting sat in your dorm room waiting to rot.

Taking a sip of your iced coffee you sighed in bliss, nothing like a well made coffee to chase the worry away. On the couch you could spot Ivette’s head tucked into Daniel’s shoulder. God they were so fucking cute.

“What’s the colour scheme for the gala?” Daniel hummed into her forehead before planting a kiss there. “I was thinking somewhere between red and white?” It was a question, a chance to see what Daniel was okay with.

“I think red is amazing. Wine, ruby, burgundy, or blood?” He answered her with a question. She Beamed at it the knowledge for the colour. “Ruby.” She said before bringing her hands to jawline and pull him to her before kissing him.

Your attention turning back on the notes in front of you. Ivette was undeniably happy with him and you wished she had the courage to stay with him this time. No matter what she says she deserves to finally be happy with him.

“Y/n?” Your whips up and eyes connected with hers. “You should come, I know you said no already. But it’ll be fun. You’ll be my plus one since the Seavey’s are invited.” Her eyes softened and formed into her famous puppy dog eyes. Bottom lip rolling out into a pout, a pleading that worked for a good percentage of the time.

“It’s in two days. I don’t have time to gather a worthy gown.” You resisted her charm. “I can make a quick call or two.” She practically begged you.

Daniel glances at you with a mischievous ocean glint in his eyes. Flashes a smirk before leaning into Ivette, what was this one up to now? He’s always in the centre of Jonah’s treacherous plans. He whispers into her ear and a small wave of shock washed over her. She’s nodding before Daniel has a chance to pull away and agree to what he said to her.

“Fine It’s up to you.” Ivette shrugs trying to brush of the fact Daniel whispered his evil plans in her ear. Which were differently about you if he had to whisper them to her.

“Whatever you’re up to Seavey keep me out of it!” You narrow your eyes at him. Wide doe eyes Daniel begins to throw his hands up in surrender. Trying to seem innocent but failing miserably and looking suspiciously guilty. “I Wouldn’t speak of such crime.”

He winks.

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

You haven’t gotten wind of their devious plan for twenty-four hours, you felt safe enough to say you were in the clear. You took a seat at your favourite coffee shop Golden Biscuit, the one Trey worked at. You asked about him and they had said he stopped working a week ago, the day of the party. which felt oddly suspicious.

Trying to bury yourself back into the steamy werewolf romance your phone buzzed on the table top. Shaking the entirety of it yet you reluctantly reached for it. Ivette’s name flashed at the top “This better be life or death.” You mumble to yourself.

“Where are you!?” You could hear the tears and desperation wrapping in her words. It was rare for Ivette to call you in hysterical breathes of cry. But you knew exactly what it sounded like a the first breath that left her lips.

“Hey calm down. I’m at the coffee shop. What happened?” Your voice soft as your attention was on the situation at hand.

“Bonnie sent me the wrong size! I need your help to fix it please!” You could hear her hiccup in her distressed striped voice. “Just take a breath, I’m assuming your in my dorm. Hold tight Ivette I’m on my way.” You soothe knowing how important these galas were to her. It was the one night a year where she could replenish her statues of a Richie and not feel guilty about it.

“Okay, okay.” she says finally breathing through her nose. “I love you.” You say into the phone gathering your book into your bag and your coffee into your hand.”I love you too.” She replies back sounding less hysteric almost making you halt at the sudden change in her voice. You waved it off as a mind trick continuing to rushing out of Golden Biscuit and towards campus.

Shouldering the door open you clatter to the floor of your dorm with an exaggerated oof. Chest tight and legs feeling like jelly as you pull yourself up, door wide open as your keys dangle from the knob. A few passing students pier in with wondering eyes. You huff before kicking the door shut closing it on anymore prying eyes. You’d remind yourself to fetch your keys later.

As soon as you collected your breath you saw no sign of Ivette and her hysterics. You rolled your eyes knowing she tricked your gullible little ass. Those theatre class we really paying off, Ivette really knew how to act and knew you’d come running in her signs of panic.

A large crisp orange box sat a top your bed along side a black bag. Cautiously your hands reached for the gift bag pulling tissue paper out. Glancing inside you spot your silk green dress and Ivette’s heels. In your hand the dress condition was pristine as if it’s never been worn. Confusion your hands dart for the heels and you began to inspect them, not a single blood stain upon the velvet straps. Were these replaced?

Setting the thought aside you begin to open the box, a top white tissue paper was a clean envelope. Inside the wax seal was the Marais family crest, breaking it you fingers find a letter inside written in delicate swirling loops.

A little birdie told me your dress size. Now forgive me for the colour there wasn’t much option in a day’s notice. Daniel and I will fetch the both of you at her house. By the way I took your green dress on a trip to the dry cleaners.

- Jonah Marais

As soon as you think you’re in the clear it rolls into view. He didn’t give you a chance to say no, clever you didn’t think you could because the gala was tomorrow night. All Jonah brought was stress upon you and your perplexed feelings. But now you felt more friends then enemies but there was still the instinct to stay clear of him.

sighing you places the letter down and unwrap the tissue paper. A gorgeous sapphire ball gown with a sweet heart neckline sit inside. mesmerised by it’s workmanship you grasp it in your hands. Silky texture nothing like your green dress,this was higher quality thick in fabric and softer. You wondered the price. It stayed a mystery because no tag dangled off the dress. Ivette most like told you about your fear of her expensive gift and removed it with his hands. God those hands plucking the strings of his guitar.

This wasn’t a reality it was written deep in some fantasy book you’ve read before. You were dreaming or you’re hallucinating, that’s the only explanation. It was a rare occasion you got the man and the gown, This shit was only in between the pages of fiction.

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Thank you so much for the people who have stuck with this series you’re god sent I swear.

Which was your favourite part? Do you guys like the other elements of the story like the reader selling the painting and the Gala? or are you all about the romance?

Don’t be afraid to message me if anything offended you with my POC characters. This is a safe space for everyone and I want to make it right!

Taglist: @jonahlovescoffee @randomlimelightxxx @someinsanefangirl @evans-dejong

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