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emepe · 2 years ago

Text

— Pairing: Jean x Reader, established relationship, no body descriptions for Reader

— General info: modern AU, one-shot, fluff

— Summary: Nothing compares to the feel of being in his arms, the simplicity of holding each other close is enough to bring relief to your hearts.

ooo tooth rotting fluff pls lmaoo readerxjean or eren (your choice) reader surprises him with a relaxing bath after he had a hard and exhausting week at work! and him being so surprised and so filled with love and gratitude he almost cries omg and then he asks reader to join just to hold them close :( they spend a while in there just holding each other and whispering sweet nothing to each other because LOVE !!!

— Content warnings: --

— Notes: A special thank you to the person who sent this prompt to me through my poll from December! It’s really cute, I hope you enjoy it, wherever you are :) Tagged a couple of people I feel always appreciate a Jean piece but feel free to ignore me lol.

Links: AO3 | Masterlist

It’s been a long week for Jean.

He knows that, and you know that, but he has no idea you know.

Jean always hopes you never get a clue of how stressed he’s been feeling because of work. It’s a pretty annoying trait of his, to worry too much about worrying you, when he’s already got so much on his plate. After all, isn’t it a part of your job as his significant other to act as a safe haven? Listen to anything that plagues his mind and help ease the weight of his troubles?

Alas, he’s stubborn. And you always feel obligated to pretend not to notice the tension in his shoulders that doesn’t ease even after he’s home or the way he’s been grinding his teeth in his sleep for the past two nights.

Instead, you try your best to alleviate him in other ways and sneakily pamper him. Like cooking his favorite food for dinner, faking shoulder pain so he can go over to you and massage them — that way, he can’t object when you offer to return the favor, because it’s only fair — or purposely waiting to begin your skincare routine until after he’s washed up too, so that you can get him to relax with a refreshing cucumber sheet mask smoothed across his face.

Tonight’s tactic is a bath.

You’ve gone all out.

You pour the vanilla scented bubble bath as warm water fills the tub, light candles and let them illuminate the room, set a speaker on the floor beside the door to play soft, mellow music, and leave his recently washed bathrobe neatly folded on top of the sink counter for when he’s ready to come out. You place a small bottle of body oil beside the tub, which you plan to use to massage him as his limbs relax in the water.

It’s a little obvious what you’re trying to do, but it’s also very much needed, so you really don’t care.

Just as the suds begin to inch dangerously close to the brim of the bathtub and you decide to shut off the water, the sound of the front door closing reaches your ears.

He’s home.

You step out to meet him in the foyer, where he’s already left his keys on the small dish atop the shelf beside the door and is loosening his tie.

His eyes are tired, hair mussed, and shoulders heavy. But when he catches a glimpse of your form coming to greet him, his irises light up and shimmer as he strides over and engulfs you in a warm hug.

“Hey,” you giggle softly as he presses a gentle kiss into your hair. “Rough day at work?”

“Nah, I just missed you,” he says while burying his face into the crook of your neck and placing one more peck on the soft skin.

“Did you now?” you tease as you pull back just enough to see his face and finish taking off his tie for him.

A lazy grin stretches over his features as he nods and you mirror the expression while you begin to waddle backward, tugging him along down the hall in direction of the bathroom.

“I did, I really did,” he says, not really understanding where you’re taking him yet, but not protesting either as he keeps his body latched to yours. When you stop in front of the bathroom, he takes one look at the door and furrows his brow.

“What are we doing in front of the bathroom?” he asks, his face painted with amused confusion.

“Well, you always take a shower before eating dinner, I’m just dropping you off,” you explain nonchalantly, even shrugging your shoulders to play things off cooly.

He laughs, though his eyebrows still give way to his confusion.

A hint of suspicion courses through him as he pushes the door open, and it’s not until his curious eyes peel off your dramatically casual expression and turn to what’s awaiting him on the other side of the bathroom threshold, that he realizes what you’ve been up to.

His honey-like eyes widen at the view and his senses instantly relax under the soft glow of the candles, the sweet vanilla scent, and the soothing melody coming from the speaker on the floor.

He spins back to look at you, his features softened and his eyes glassy though that might be an illusion provided by the flickering yellow and orange hues from the lit candles.

“You did all this?”

You shrug as you bashfully chew on the inside of your cheek.

“You’ve been really stressed lately, I figured a bath wouldn’t hurt to help you relax.”

He chokes out an incredulous laugh.

“Wow. I mean, I’m grateful but how did you—”

“Jean, are you forgetting we sleep in the same bed every night? You’ve been grinding your teeth next to my ear,” you explain, lifting an accusatory eyebrow at him. You watch in amusement as the tips of his ears redden. “You’re lucky you’re cute, or that would’ve been a major dealbreaker to our little roommate arrangement we’ve got going on here,” you add jokingly.

He doesn’t give you a verbal answer but the warm glimmer in his eyes and the faint smile gracing his lips is enough for you to tell he’s grateful.

“Come on, Jean-boy, strip,” you say teasingly, bashfully disconnecting from his gaze as you feel your face begin to heat up.

Your fingers carefully work their way down each of the buttons of his shirt and slide the garment off his shoulders as he rids himself of his bottoms.

The water ripples as he steps into the tub and sinks his body under the layer of vanilla-scented bubbles while you step behind him and grab the body oil.

He stiffens when your oil-lathered hands connect with his shoulders, though they relax as soon as your thumbs start to press into the sore muscles and you dip down to place a kiss on his neck. The act brings a smile to his face.

“You’re amazing for this, you know that?” he sighs, allowing his head to fall back and closing his eyes to heighten the sensation of your gentle hands relieving the weight he’s been carrying for the past few days.

“I know,” you reply, satisfied by his peaceful expression.

Confusion contorts your features when his hand reaches out from under the soapy water and it lands around your wrist, silently putting a stop to your ministrations. But he opens up his eyes and only smiles.

“You okay?” you ask.

“Get in here with me,” he says.

Your cheeks flare with heat at the offer, because how can you ever say no to him? But this was all for him to enjoy.

All you receive in response when you tell him that is an echo of the same request, along with “I want to hold you”. And who are you to do anything other than comply?

Your clothes are left in a heap on the floor on top of his.

A bit of water splashes onto the tiled floor as you step into the tub and settle down facing him with your back against the opposite side of the tub.

“Happy?” you ask, cocking an eyebrow.

He pouts and shakes his head, motioning you to come closer and making you shriek in slight surprise when he pulls you down by the waist and presses your body against his chest while peppering your face with kisses.

Your laughter bubbles into the vanilla air, carrying along with the suds that stray floating from the tub to the floor as your playful bodies make waves in the water.

When your giggles no longer echo over the soft music playing in the background, all trace that’s left of your voices consist of sweet praises and declarations whispered to each other as the night falls outside the bathroom window and the candles slowly waste away to nothing.

The evening ticks away as Jean’s strong arms keep you as close as humanly possible, your left shoulder tucked under his chin, his heartbeat pounding against your bare back, his lips hovering next to your ear — thanking you, praising you, and telling you how soft and warm you feel under his touch in between kisses.

You can feel your fingers pruning up under the water, but it’s an insignificant price to pay compared to the happiness that fills your entire being as you listen to your lover hum fragments of the songs that serve as your night’s soundtrack, and you inch toward that part in a long conversation where you begin to reminisce about how you met, who caught feelings first, the time he blurted out he loved you for the first time during your first fight, and the day you shocked him by asking him to move in together in a manner so casual one would think you were just asking him to pick between Chinese food and pizza.

After a moment of easy, comfortable silence during which you were already tiptoeing the edge of a tranquil slumber under the sputtered glow of the candles, he murmurs your name.

“Hm?”

He chuckles.

“Falling asleep already?” he teases. “I thought this whole thing was supposed to be for me.”

“Mhmm.”

“Wanna rinse off and get to bed, then?” he laughs.

In your sleepy daze, you shake your head, bottom lip stuck in a pout as you turn your body over slightly so you can curl up against his chest and rest an arm over his shoulder.

“Just a little longer. I like it here.”

“Yeah?”

“Uh-huh.”

Amused air blows through his nose as he looks down at your half-sleeping figure. He rests his chin on the crown of your head and murmurs, “I like it here, too.”

Masterlist

taglist: @pina-chan @cherrysakusa @sparklekitteh

#jean kirstein x reader #jean kirschtein fanfiction #aot fanfiction #snk fanfiction #aot x reader #jean kirstein fanfiction #jean kirschtein x reader #jean kirschtein imagine #jean kirstein x you

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waitimcomingtoo · 4 years ago

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In Case You Don’t Live Forever

~chapter four rewritten~

Pairing: Peter Parker x Venom!Reader

Synopsis: you are Peter’s greatest love and Spiderman’s greatest enemy

Series Masterlist

After eating dessert and saying goodbye to May, Peter walked you to your room like a proper gentleman.

“You really don’t have to walk me home. I live right across that hall.” You teased him as you leaned against your door. You were glad he did, though. You wanted to spend every minute you could with him.

“I know, but I wanted to make sure you got in okay.” Peter said shyly. “You never know what dangers can be lurking in a hallway. Henry could’ve been around here and you and your feet would’ve been defenseless. You think I could live with myself if something happened to you?”

You laughed loudly and took your time unlocking your door, partially to extend your time together and partially to hide your massive blush.

“Thanks for dinner, Parker. I had a good time.” You said slowly as you fixed his collar.

“I had a moderately alright time.” He said nonchalantly. You laughed at his joke and shoved him a little.

“Fine. I had an amazing time.” He answered honestly. “We should do this again.”

The hope in his eyes knocked you out.

“Definitely.” You agreed. “But at my place next time.”

“Deal.” He stood there for a moment, just staring at you. You stared back, seeing the pale freckles on his nose and around his eyes. The longer you look at Peter, the better he got.

“Goodnight, Y/N.” Peter said finally. You sighed softly and looked him over.

Parting really is such sweet sorrow.

“Goodnight Peter.” You answered. You gave each other one more giggly smile before you closed the door, completely missing the victory dance Peter did in the hallway.

“Alright. You ate. Now it’s our turn. Let’s go eat some assholes.” Venom cheered once you were alone.

“You couldn’t have phrased that in a worse way.” You grimaced as you set your keys down.

“I mean, let’s go eat some men who are assholes.” Venom corrected herself.

“Alright alright. Let’s go.” You walked to the window. “But, they have to be a total asshole. We can’t just eat a dick.”

“And you think what we said was bad? Listen to yourself.” Venom retorted.

“I heard it. I meant we have to eat someone who is really, really bad. Not just some random jerk.” You defended.

“Whatever. Let’s go. Your liver is starting to look really, really juicy.” Venom warned. With that, you climbed out the window and prowled the streets of New York.

It wasn’t long before you found a man harassing a woman near a local bar. They were both tipsy, but she seemed drunker than he was. He kept putting his hands on her, despite her protests. Every time she tried to push him away, he’d only try harder.

“Come on baby.” He purred.

“Leave me alone. I don’t want you.” The woman slurred as she pushed him away.

“Yes you do. You wouldn’t have worn that tight dress if you didn’t.” The man said.

Ah yes, logic.

When she ignored his comment, he angrily pushed her against a wall and covered her mouth.

“Asshole?” Venom asked you.

“Asshole.” You confirmed. You and Venom did your usual tactic. You’d start off as you and kindly ask the gentleman to leave the lady alone. When all else fails, you became Venom and ate the bad guy.

You and Venom weren’t cold blooded killers. If a problem could be solved with words, you would do it that way. But there are a lot of bad men on the streets who don’t take no for an answer.

And you catch bad men.

You tore the man away from the lady and she ran away screaming when she saw you as Venom. Most people do. At least she was safe. The man on the other hand suddenly lost his tough guy stamina and resulted to begging for his life.

“Should we eat them?” Venom asked you, loud enough for the man to hear. You did that little thing when half your face was Venom and half your face was you.

People get a real kick out of it.

“No.” You cooed. “They probably taste terrible.”

The man cowered away, begging you to leave.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I won’t do it again.” He pleaded.

“I never much liked the taste of perverts.” Venom snarled.

“Me either. Plus, he’s so puny. He’s probably disgusting.” You agreed.

You were dragging the man along. He was definitely getting eaten, no doubt about it. At least, there was no doubt, up until you heard the sound of feet landing on the pavement behind you.

“Hey, big guy, didn’t anyone ever tell you that people are friends, not food?” A young, muffled voice sounded. Spider-Mans eyes grew comically wide when Venom turned around.

“What are you?” He gasped. You could hear the terror in his voice. Under his mask, he was probably trembling. He sounded so young and terrified.

“We…are venom.” You answered as you snarled at him.

Never gets old.

“Hi Venom.” Spider-Man took a step back in fear, legs shaking slightly. “I’m Spiderman.”

The man took this as an opportunity to get up and run. You quickly ran after him, but you were suddenly covered in a sticky white substance. It wrapped around your legs and you fell to the ground. From the floor, you could see the man getting away.

“I can’t take credit for that. I got that from this really old movie, The Empire Strikes back. It works every time.” Spider-Man panted as he ran over to you.

You decided you had enough of this and easily broke out of the sticky stuff. You grabbed the unsuspecting Spider-Man by the throat and lifted him up by his neck. You could hear the sounds of him choking through his mask, and looses your grip. You weren’t a monster, but you weren’t a superhero either. Spiderman had let a bad guy get away and you could only hope you scared him enough not to do it again.

“You let him go.” You growled as you got in his face. Spider-Man hit the hand around his throat in an attempt to break free, making Venom smile. His feet were dangling off the ground. He was defenseless.

“You can’t eat people.” He choked out, gasping for air.

“We can and we will.” Venom growled. “Since you let our dinner get away, looks like you’ll have to take his place. We hope you taste better than you look, Spiderman.”

“Please don’t eat me. I’m just a kid.” Spider-Man begged. Venom tried to keep going, but you pulled back.

“Venom, put him down. We can find someone else. We can’t eat this guy. He’s too young.” You said calmly and prayed Venom would listen. Spider-Man was right. He was just a kid. He had pissed you off, but that didn’t mean he had to die.

“We don’t want anyone else. We want him”. Venom answered. Spider-Man looked confused, seeing as he could only hear Venoms part of the conversation.

“Put him down. His suit probably tastes terrible anyway. Let’s go find someone else. How about we go find a smoker to eat? You know how much you love to eat smokers.” You argued as you felt her grip loosen.

“They taste like barbecue.” Venom replied, feeling her mouth watering.

“Let’s go.” You insisted. “He’s not worth it.”

“Fine.” Venom grouched and threw Spider-Man against a wall. Spider-Man began to cough and clutch his throat. Venom stormed over to him and grabbed his head, making him look at you.

“If you ever bother us again, we are going to eat both of your arms, then both of your legs, and then we are going to eat your face. Do you understand?”

“We?” was all Spider-Man could get out.

“We.” Venom repeated. “Me and my girl. She saved your life tonight. Don’t except it to happen again. Next time, you’re dead.” Venom warned. With that, you ran away into the night, leaving Spider-Man behind.

After eating a man you saw steal money out of multiple homeless peoples cups, you climbed up the apartment building and sat on the ledge of the roof. You transformed back into yourself and watched as the sun made its way up the horizon.

“What are you doing up here?” You heard a familiar Queens accent from behind you. You smiled immediately and turned around.

“Are you stalking me Parker?” You teased as a bashful smile broke across his face. He looked ethereal in the early morning sunshine so you bit your tongue to keep from giggling.

He was too damn cute.

“You’ve got it the wrong way around. I lived here first. This had been my spot for years now. You’re the one stalking me.” Peter remarked. His voice sounded horse, like he had strained it. He moved slowly, almost as if he was in pain, as he swung his legs over the ledge and took a seat next to you. Your thighs just barely touched, but enough to send sparks though your body.

“Is this really your spot? I’ll leave if you want.” You offered, but Peter put his hand on your shoulder to keep you from getting up.

“It’s our spot now.” He said matter of factly. The sun light up his profile and you could see how tired his eyes were. You wondered what late night adventures kept Peter Parker awake. Peter stared out into the New York City skyline and sighed with content. A gentle breeze blew his brown locks and ruffled your clothing.

Everything was quiet. Everything was good.

“Are you an orphan?” You blurted before smacking your hand over your mouth.

You almost jumped off the roof right there. And you probably should’ve. No, actually, Peter should’ve pushed you off. It’s what you deserved. Who the HELL asks someone you just met that question? Who asks that question at all? Does anyone even use the term “orphan” anymore? Is this Annie? All these questions swarmed through your head as your cheeks managed to burn the brightest shade of red they ever had. Peter snapped his head to you and tried to say something but you cut him off.

“I only ask because…well, I am.” You admitted. “An orphan, I mean. And I saw the pictures in your apartment with the candle and you kinda have that…orphan look to you. No offense! It’s not a bad thing either. I probably have the same look. Plus, you live with your aunt and I didn’t see anyone else come home. Of course, maybe they just weren’t home the one night I was over. Not that it’s any of my business anyway. I’m sorry I asked. It was a dumb, dumb question and I’m a dumb, dumb person and I-“

Your excessive rambling was cut off by a soft chuckles on Peters part. You looked at him confused as it wasn’t the response you expected.

“You’re not dumb. You took down Carlton Drake at 19 years old with no help. I wouldn’t call that person dumb. I’d call her brave, smart, even heroic.” Peter complimented you. “And all the best heroes are orphans. So to answer your question…there was a question in there somewhere right? I think so. Yes, I am an orphan. I live with my Aunt May. I used to live with my Uncle Ben too but he passed away.”

“Your uncle was Ben Parker.” You realized. “I should’ve known. May mentioned his name at dinner. I remember hearing about the shooting. All my friends and I created a club in school to protest the lack of gun regulation in America after that. I’m so sorry, Peter.”

“I really appreciate you doing that. I’m really upset over the lack of gun regulation too.” He was quiet for a moment. “My Uncle Ben used to write too. He was always trying to get me to write for the school newspaper. It wasn’t my thing though. I prefer taking pictures and videos. You’re a really good writer, Y/N. My Uncle Ben would’ve loved you.” Peter said earnestly. You smiled at Peter and scooted closer to him.

“Thank you for saying that. I bet I would’ve loved him too.” You told him. Peter looked down at his hands which were dangerously close to yours. You weren’t bold enough to hold his hand, though you desperately wanted to. Instead, you put your head on his shoulder and looked out at the sunrise. It was a simple, innocent gesture. You were both awkward and knew it. It was the safest thing you could do without something going terribly wrong. Peter rested his head on top of yours and sighed.

“I didn’t know you were an orphan.” He said softly, not wanting to disturb the peace. You nodded, still nestled in his neck.

“My mom died a few minutes after giving birth to me.” You opened up to him, something you hadn’t done with anyone before. “I’m not sure what went wrong but they had to do an emergency C-section. I survived, but she didn’t.”

You got quiet for a moment.

“She never even got to hold me.”

“I’m sorry Y/N.” Peter whispered. He gingerly laced his fingers with yours. You watched as he did it and didn’t try to stop him.

“It’s weird.” You shrugged. “I never knew her, but I miss her everyday. I wish we could’ve had a conversation. Just one would be enough.” Your mom wasn’t something you often talked about. It was too painful to relive the past so you hadn’t even told Andy the full story.

But you felt safe with Peter.

“You don’t have to have known her to miss her.” Peter insisted. “I bet she misses you too and she never met you either.”

“What were your parents names?” You changed the topic as you rubbed his hand softly with your thumb.

“Richard And Mary. Richard and Mary Parker.” He answered proudly. “I write them letters all the time. I put them in an envelope and everything. Then I put them in a box in my closet. I like to think the read them.”

“I bet they do.” You told him while squeezing his hand gently. In that moment, you could’ve sworn he was yours. Like you were an actual couple that had been through hell and back together. Like you’d know him all my life. Peter looked you in the eyes and for the first time, someone really saw you.

The real you, and he didn’t turn away. His brown eyes stared right down into your soul. You felt insecure suddenly, your soul wasn’t a pretty place to see. Certainly not pretty enough for Peter Parker. But Peter didn’t seem to mind.

You got this feeling all the sudden, this feeling that told you you and Peter were meant to meet. That you were always meant to be in each other’s lives. To protect and love each other, like real people do. Peter didn’t feel like a stranger. He wasn’t someone you met on accident. You were destined to be. Just be. No matter what you were. This rooftop didn’t feel like a place you’d never been before. This rooftop felt like home. And Peter made it feel that way. Or maybe it wasn’t the rooftop that felt like home, it was just Peter. Your cheeks burned up when you realized what was happening. Your heart fluttered and your lungs felt like they were in fire.

You knew it. Every fiber of your being knew it. All your senses came alive at once and in that moment, on that rooftop, your heart looked into Peters and said those two words,

“Welcome home”

#peter parker x reader #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x you #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker imagine #peter parker x venom!reader #venom!reader #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland fluff #iron man #tom holland fanfiction

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oumaheroes · 3 years ago

Text

Stargazing

Word Count: 2030

Characters: England, France- FrUK

---

‘If you could go back to any era, which would you choose?’ There is a stone in-between France’s shoulder blades, something that finally tips the scales from being comfortable into not, so France rolls onto his side, cradling his head in his hand.

From his spot in the grass next to him, England turns his head lazily, the movement long and slow. His eyes are the last to move, fixed on the stars, and they find France’s with a sharp flick, ‘What?’

‘Are you too drunk to listen?’ France lifts a heavy arm and reaches across the small distance between them to brush some errant hair away from England’s forehead and lets it stay there, tangled in his roots. France himself is wine soft and slow, warm in his stomach and chest from both the day and the drink which settles within him.

England huffs, ‘More like drunk enough that I can stop pretending you’re worth listening to.’

France hums indulgently, far too jovial at the moment to search for any unintended offense, ‘oh, the lies you tell yourself. They do amuse me.’

England frowns, head still facing France and cheek pillowed in the grass. Wine is not enough to soften him entirely, it seems, ‘that is rich, coming from you.’

France brings his hand down from England’s hair to lay it across his mouth, ‘I’m not starting anything with you this evening, I’m too full.’

England opens his mouth and, very gently, bites the meat of the pad of France’s hand. Just to show that he could and to be difficult, showing that he won’t go down without a fight. France’s small input in the ridiculous battle is to leave it there, refusing to give in. Eventually, England lets go and moves his head away, although not before pressing his teeth down just that bit harder. France reclaims his hand and allows him escape without protest.

‘What drivel did you ask me?’ England looks back up at the sky again, high and cloudless above them.

‘If you could be in any era again, any that we have lived through,’ France repeats, ‘which would you pick to go back to?’ He has caught England in a good mood, one where he has allowed himself to be seen, for a time, without anything sharp covering him. Drink has made him pliant and loose tongued and France, in a similar mood, is keen to make the most of it.

England rolls his head slightly back, considering the question, ‘How long do I get in the era?’

‘No, don’t do that, don’t make it technical. It’s not a difficult question.’

‘It most certainly is, running water always influences things,’ England’s mouth twists in a wry hint of a smile, ‘and it’s one thing to pop back to the Tudor times for one of the court parties and quite another to have to spend more than a week there. I do not lament the loss of hose and codpiece.’

‘I do, they made my legs look fabulous.’

England snorted and rolled his eyes, ‘Why am I not surprised.’

‘You’re avoiding the question,’ France twists away from him briefly to feel for the wine bottle they’d been drinking from. It had rolled away slightly, the slight incline of France’s garden causing it to move easily as they shuffled about and he takes a long swing of it before laying it between them, neck resting on England’s stomach. He’s past beyond the point of using glasses now.

‘I’m not avoiding the question, I was trying to-‘

‘No stop, you’re ruining it; I’ll go first,’ after brushing the grass underneath to clear it of stones, France returns to lying on his back, arms behind his head, and ignores England’s tut of annoyance, ‘I think I’d actually want to go back to the days under Rome, just for a visit.’

England sits up on his elbows and takes a sip from the bottle himself, ‘I hadn’t expected that of you.’

‘No?’

‘God no. I would have thought you’d want to go back to one of your King Luis. You know, peak opulence, decadence- all that faff. You still love the fancy balls and the clothes, and the needless tat that came with it,’ England takes another sip of wine and runs his tongue over his teeth, ‘the dances and the jewels, the silly little court rules of behaviour. The gossip.’

France chuckles, ‘you were so funny every time you were dragged along- so out of place! You couldn’t go more than an hour before letting your true colours slip free.’ England was never truly refined for very long, especially when it came to the Versailles’ court standards.

‘Anyone with a lick of sense was immediately out of place,’ England quips drily and lays down again, placing the cork back in the wine as he goes.

It sounds nearly empty- shame. It was a nice year and the last of the bottles that they’d brought out to the garden. Dinner had been a late, informal affair in France’s kitchen- homemade bread and creamy, locally made cheese with chicken. Simple and filling, comfort food for the both of them. The summer heat made them both unwilling for anything too excessive and the entire day had been spent doing lots of nothing much at all; England lounging about in shorts that France refrained from teasing him about lest he stop wearing them.

‘Yes well,’ France lifts his head and clumsily bats him in the stomach with the top of his hand, ‘despite that indeed being extremely enjoyable, I do mean it. My choice of era, I mean.’

England makes a soft noise that gently demands elaboration, a low rumble in the back of his throat but France needs no prompting. He presses a knuckle into the softness of England’s stomach and feels him breathe in deep and slow.

‘I’d love to have nothing to be responsible for again. Everything was done for me, as a colony- the way my cities were built, the improvements made to my industries, the negotiations for trade and commerce, everything. I’d like to revisit being a child, in the closest sense of childhood our kind has,’ France pauses, mulling that over, ‘Imagine that again, being small but without fear of being so. No politics, no money driven economy, no push for growth. We have spent so much of our lives racing to get somewhere, striving to be more that I can hardly remember what it was like to be nothing more than an idea, existing just to speak for the lives that called themselves mine.’

France turns and catches England watching him, eyes searching and heavy, ‘Does that make sense?’ he asks him.

‘No,’ England’s answer is immediate, ‘no, and yes. The desire to be I understand, but I detested that age.’

France smiles at him, understanding masked by the dark. England does not, and never did, like being anything other than in perfect control of himself. Relinquishing that to someone else, even for his own benefit, has never been anything more than a horror.

‘Well,’ France says, ‘that is my choice. I liked being looked after and I have so much to do nowadays that it would be nice to have nothing to do once again. Nothing more than wander about my fields and see my people, or visit a northern barbarian across the sea.’

‘Don’t talk about Scotland that way, you’ll hurt his feelings.’

France laughs and reaches down to find England’s hand, open palmed and curled fingers by his side. He intertwines his own with it and brings them upwards, watching as together they cut across to block the light from his house and silhouette into a tangle of them both.

‘So,’ he says, running a thumb across the skin of England’s knuckle, ‘what era would you choose?’

England sighs, a light thing but France can hear a yearning there, ‘Any of the years I was at sea. The 1500’s when I was first starting out and even up to the 1700’s when things became more regimented- any of them. To be able to just get in a boat and go, no one knowing when I would come back or even where I was going.’

France shudders, the idea of being out in ocean that deep and so alone chilling him. For creatures that revive after death, who can wake again and again and again as long as there is a body to return to, the ocean is a lonely, painful place to die. To sink lifeless into murky depths, only to reawaken there in the dark press of salty sea; most nations avoided it as much as they could, wishing to avoid the long, drawn out death choked by waves and forgotten on the seafloor.

England never had such a healthy fear of the oceans. He went out into thunderous storms and monstrous waves as if enchanted, unable to resist the pull of something untamed. England sailed off as soon as he was able, going out for further and longer than anyone else dared and losing himself in the harsh life of the brine. He was a different creature far out at sea, something so strangely alive and perfectly at home for a man made from the soul of the mountains and land.

‘You always were a strange one for the macabre,’ France drops their hands back down and finds England once more looking at the sky, the reflection of stars glinting in his eyes.

‘The seas never change,’ his voice is quiet and distant, ‘some things do change, of course- the boats we sail on, how we do so. Things shift on the sea, the lands we travel to and from are washed away and changed with time but the sea itself is always the same. I appreciate it for that, it is predictably unpredictable. Constantly refusing the press of mankind by being the one thing we can never truly understand, for all of mankind’s new fancy gadgets.’

England gives a sudden, dry laugh, ‘I used to navigate the world by constellations, now I have to travel just to find some stars. To the highest peaks I have, or deep in my countryside to avoid as much light pollution as I can. But out at sea they are as they have always been, the same things I have watched and tracked for thousands of years. That is when I can just be as I have always been.’

The sky hangs overhead, speckled and bright and now, France notices, startlingly empty, ‘I often forget that they’re there,’ France speaks to the sky, ‘Funny, isn’t it? How something so fundamental can disappear and mankind not even notice. How odd to forget that stars are there, then to not notice they’re gone.’

‘We are cursed or blessed to remember what’s past,’ England offers, ‘which one depends on who we remember for.’

They lay in silence for a moment. France feels the collected years sit with him openly, laying on his chest and heart like tiny weights. The ground pushes against his back, firm and unmoving, and he breathes in deeply, smelling the heat of the summer in the air. He is here. He is now. He is. Still, after all this time. He watches.

To exist is to change, to live is to evolve and move with the flow of time, but France understands the want for something constant in the flood, something that stays recognisable and the same throughout the years. The older he gets, the more he yearns for it keenly.

‘You’ve gone and made things serious,’ he lifts himself back up on an elbow, England looking at him without moving his head, ‘just like you to take a light conversation and ruin it.’

England raises an eyebrow, “Oh the lies you tell yourself; they do amuse me.”

His French is accented with a Norman dialect, a gentle dig and refusal to fully let France have what he wants and France laughs at it, at this one unchanging constant he is stuck with. He leans down to kiss him, hair curling into England’s face and hiding what remains of the night sky.

----

AN: Every time I try writing one of these small drabbles, I start out with a particular idea and tone in mind but gosh darn it they never go where I intend for them to.

Today we have ended up with this, two old men talking themselves in circles in the summer grass.

#My writing #aph france #hws france #aph england #hws england #hetalia fanfiction #hetalia fanfic #hetalia #aph #hws #arthur kirkland #francis bonnefoy #nationverse #i have so may writing styles and one day i will stop flip flopping between them #another thing to clean up before going on AO3 #fruk #aph fruk

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iclaimedtobethebetterbard · 4 years ago

Text

pasta & posies

Fandom: Sanders Sides Characters: Logan, Virgil Rating: Teen & up Relationships: Analogical Warnings: Language, food Word count: 1818

Read on AO3!

My writing masterpost

Starlight Universe masterpost

analogical week 2021 start - previous - here - next - masterpost

Summary: Virgil loves his husband, but he’s pretty darn sure today is not their anniversary. So why the flowers?

Notes: Day 1 of Analogical Week 2021! @analogicalweek Takes place in my Starlight Universe, does not need context to read.

Virgil had just set a pot of water to boil on the stove when he heard the front door unlock and Logan clearing his throat as he stepped in, just like he did every time he arrived home. Virgil was pretty sure Logan didn’t realize he did it; he had no plans of telling Logan, in case he tried to break the habit, because Virgil thought it was kind of ridiculously endearing and didn’t want him to stop. Then again, most things about Logan were that way, so maybe Virgil was just a sap.

“Hey, babe,” Virgil called. He glanced at the clock on the microwave; as usual, Logan was home from work right on time, practically down to the minute. Virgil appreciated the fact that Logan was a creature of habit more than he knew how to put into words. The familiarity of Logan’s routines was a regular source of comfort to him.

Logan appeared in the kitchen doorway, smiling, something green and purple in his hand that Virgil vaguely registered but didn’t focus on. “Hello, dear.” He set down his briefcase—and god, Virgil was never going to be over how hilariously on-point it was that Logan had a fucking briefcase, not now after seven months of marriage and probably not ever—and crossed the room to kiss Virgil hello, his free arm easily sliding around Virgil’s waist and holding him close as gently as he had the first time they’d kissed.

Logan lingered in the kiss for longer than usual, though it stayed soft and sweet. Not that Virgil was complaining about any of that. He wrapped his arms a little more securely around his husband’s neck, rising up on his toes so his head was at a more comfortable angle.

Logan smiled and broke away at last, only to tip his head down and press his forehead against Virgil’s.

“You good, L?” Virgil asked, half laughing, reaching up to caress Logan’s cheek.

Logan nodded, humming assent. “I love you,” he said simply. He stepped back. “These are for you.” He offered the thing he’d been holding, which turned out to be a bouquet of purple flowers.

“I—thanks?” Virgil accepted the flowers, blinking down at them. Had something happened to prompt this? “I love you too.”

Logan nodded, leaning in to kiss Virgil’s cheek. “How can I help with dinner?”

“Uh, can you chop… things?” Virgil said, still preoccupied with the flowers. Was today something specific? Had he forgotten something?

“Certainly.” Logan pulled out a cutting board and knife. “We’re having that pasta salad you like, correct?”

Virgil nodded. “Mmhm.” October sixteenth… there wasn’t anything special on October sixteenth, right? Right?

Logan rummaged around in the fridge, pulling out cherry tomatoes and a bell pepper and the second half of a can of olives. The olives were stored in a reusable container, because Logan had casually rattled off the health risks of leaving food in open cans the first time he’d seen Virgil do it, and the next weekend Virgil had dragged him to the nearest slightly pretentious suburban outlet mall to buy a whole kitchen’s worth of storage containers.

Logan rinsed the tomatoes in a small colander and glanced over at Virgil, who was still standing in the middle of the kitchen staring at the flowers in his hands, mind racing. (Virgil couldn’t think of anything he was forgetting about today, but then, that was the thing about forgetting, wasn’t it?)

“I do not believe we own any vases, which I should have thought of; I’m sorry—but I think we have some jars on the top shelf that we could put those in,” Logan said. He reached up with one hand to the shelf in question and pulled down a jar, proffering it.

“Sure thing,” Virgil agreed, accepting the jar, in the back of his mind appreciating that Logan had clearly assessed his distress and tried to help, even if he’d misread what the actual problem Virgil was having was. “Cool cool. Cool cool cool. Um.”

Logan raised an eyebrow, set down the colander in the sink, and turned to give Virgil his full attention. “Is something wrong, dearest?” he asked, bringing the unspoken out into the open.

Virgil chewed on the inside of his cheek for only a beat. “Uh, how come you got me these?”

“The color reminded me of you,” Logan said, and Virgil began to relax. “And I believe flowers are considered a traditional anniversary gift,” he added, and Virgil panicked again.

Anniversary? It wasn’t their anniversary, right? Right? No, it definitely wasn’t. So what on earth was Logan talking about?

But Logan seemed to think this was all the explanation that was needed, turning back to the counter and beginning to slice the tomatoes in halves.

Virgil bit his lip and set the flowers down on the table so his hands were free to fill the jar with water. He set that down, too, and went to the cupboard to pull out a large bowl for the dinner to go in; he set it down on the counter beside Logan.

“Thank you, dear,” Logan said absently, transferring the small pile of tomato halves he had already accumulated into the bowl.

“Mmhm,” Virgil mumbled, heading back to the table and beginning to arrange the flowers in the jar. He had to snip quite a bit off of the long stems in order for them to sit properly in the jar, but after some shuffling, they didn’t look too bad at all.

Logan had gotten started on the bell pepper by now, and the pot on the stove had steam leaking from beneath the lid, hinting at the boiling water inside. Virgil pulled out the bag of dry pasta and the salt and began adding them to the pot.

“Hey, Lo?” he said cautiously, stirring the pasta in the pot.

“Yes, dearest?” Logan didn’t look up from the pepper he was dicing.

“Our anniversary—our wedding anniversary—is March 25. Right?” Virgil reached up and set a timer for the pasta on the microwave. They had been married at sunset in the garden outside the museum that they went to on their first date. Virgil had worn a black suit with a blue vest and tie, and elaborate black eyeliner reminiscent of a masquerade mask filled in with blue and purple eyeshadow, and Logan had worn a white suit with a purple shirt and bowtie.

“Yes, dear,” Logan agreed.

Virgil held back a sigh of relief that he hadn’t somehow totally misremembered. “And our boyfriends anniversary is December 6.” He had been the one to ask, nearly five years ago now. He had no idea he’d gotten the words out, sitting at a tiny table in the coffeeshop and holding hands across it as their third date drew to a close, but he’d somehow stammered out the question, and Logan had lit up and nodded so hard his glasses had slipped down his nose and nearly off his face before Virgil reached out and caught them.

“Yes.” Logan smiled to himself.

“And our first date was on November 13, and we got engaged on September 30. Yeah?”

Logan nodded. “All of that is correct. What—?”

Virgil sucked in a breath. “Okay, so this is probably totally stupid and obvious and I should know it already—”

“No, hey—” Logan began to protest.

Virgil forged on anyway. “—but what the fuck is it the anniversary of today?”

Logan blinked. “Oh.” He set down the knife beside the now fully chopped pepper.

Virgil cringed. “I know, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t—”

“No!” Logan interrupted. “No. I’m sorry for making you anxious, dear. I forgot. I don’t think I ever told you.”

That… was unexpected, and Virgil couldn’t quite figure out what it meant. “Uh. Never told me what?”

Logan glanced away, looking flustered. “I—well.” He looked back and reached over for Virgil’s hand, squeezing gently. “Five years ago today, I realized I loved you.”

All Virgil could do was stare for a moment, his chest filled with something achingly sweet at the sight of Logan’s earnest face, dark brown eyes searching Virgil’s as he clasped his hand reassuringly.

“Oh,” Virgil choked out, reaching for Logan’s other hand and squeezing back, feeling a smile stretch across his face. “Yeah?” He reached up, taking one of Logan’s hands with him, and caressed his husband’s cheek.

Logan glanced away again for a second, biting his lip, then brought his gaze back to Virgil’s. “Yes. I—I wrote it down. In my Notes app. And this year I set a reminder for it on my phone.”

Virgil let out a tiny laugh. “You did?”

“I did.” Logan nodded, a smile creeping onto his own face. “It was important.”

“You are such a nerd,” Virgil said, his voice shaking with emotion. He moved forward until the toes of his purple converse almost bumped into Logan’s plain black work shoes and reached up to wrap his arms around Logan’s neck. “I love you so much.”

Logan wrapped an arm easily around Virgil and cradled Virgil’s cheek in his other hand. “I love you too,” he murmured, his expression soft and tender and open and just for Virgil and perfect.

Virgil leaned up and kissed him, cupping the back of Logan’s head in both his hands and drawing him in closer as Logan kissed back, marveling yet again over the fact that Logan was his husband and he had somehow gotten lucky enough that this was the everyday they were creating together, this was the thing that was going to be ordinary for the rest of his life, and he was pretty sure he would never get enough of Logan and his thoughtfulness and the way he worked so hard to be vulnerable with Virgil and the way he kissed Virgil and his curiosity and passion for learning new things and everything about him, he was Virgil’s favorite everything and Virgil loved him so much—

The timer on the microwave went off, startling them both.

Logan was the first to start laughing, and that set Virgil off, pressing his face into Logan’s shoulder and giggling helplessly as Logan reached over to turn off the timer and then the stove, his other arm still holding Virgil close.

Virgil collected himself, gasping in a breath and forcing the laughter back into a fond grin. He pressed another, quicker, kiss to Logan’s mouth, then pulled away and reached for the potholders so he could drain the cooked pasta.

As Virgil set the now-empty pot back down on the stove, Logan touched his elbow to get his attention.

“Hm?” Virgil said, turning to face him.

“You are a wonder,” Logan breathed, pulling him close again and simply hugging him.

Virgil grinned, reaching up to touch Logan’s cheek and gazing into his eyes.

He had picked a pretty good person to build forever with.

#analogical #analogical week #analogicalweek #sanders sides #thomas sanders #thatsthat24 #logan sanders #virgil sanders #ts logan #ts virgil #romantic analogical #ts fic #ts fanfic #fanfiction #fanfic #language #food #peregrin's starlight universe

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deonideatta · 4 years ago

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@ohcoolnice @whyyoudo I couldn't get the concept of han seok and junwoo being two different people out of my head so on this vincenzo-less sunday I give you a loose rewrite of canon where jun woo is the third jang brother and han seok's twin!

They were born jang han seok and jang han sol, and han seok is the older twin. They were separated when they were very young, because of han seok and an incident which ended up with han sol in the hospital. It was supposed to be temporary, but one of the house staff took pity on the poor child and smuggled him away. His name was changed to jun woo and they didn't find him again until both him and han seok were adults

They grew up very differently, han seok under the jang family, tormenting han seo and becoming the unhinged, solitary figure we all know and hate, and jun woo in an adopted family somewhere across the country into the dorky, sweet intern we knew for a bit and loved

Both of them somehow ended up spending time in america, though neither knew and they never met. Han seok because his father sent him there and jun woo because he got a scholarship to go to university there

Very few people now know about han seok himself, much less his twin brother. Before han seok's chairman takeover, most people think han seo is the only jang child

Jun woo knows he has a twin brother, but he doesnt know who he is. He can't remember his name or his face, or those of his real family. When he receives an offer for a job at wusang, he takes it as a learning opportunity and accepts

The only one who has all the cards is han seok, and so when he hears that jun woo has become an intern at wusang he decides its time to play them

So he spends people to observe and record jun woo, and after things start heating up and chayenzo declares war on babel, he kidnaps and threatens him, and tells him that he has to let him cosplay as him so that he can scope out the increasing threat

This is not how jun woo had ever thought meeting his long lost twin brother would go. He tries to put up a fight, but han seok hits him in the stomach with the hockey stick he's wielding like some kind of ancient weapon so hard that he spits out blood, and that takes the fight out of him

Han seok crouches down in front of jun woo and stares him in the eye, and it's like looking into a mirror except his reflection is staring at him with chillingly blank eyes.

It's the same for han seok, except his reflection looks back with open terror. The feeling it gives him is unpleasant and han seok doesn't like seeing weakness like that on a face that could pass for his own. But if he wants to get what he wants, he can't harm his twin too much just yet

Visually they're identical, so han seok passes perfectly for jun woo. He doesn't get all his mannerisms right at first, but with practice basically no one can tell the difference unless they look hard enough to notice that han seok's eyes are always empty even when he's copying jun woo's biggest grin.

A part of han seok feels a flash of jealousy at the fact that his twin has had a pleasant and fulfilling life while he's had to live neglected in the shadows for so long, so he takes extra satisfaction in the way jun woo's face falls when he appears in front of him for the first time dressed in his work attire, indistinguishable from jun woo on the average week day, backpack and all.

To spite him even further, han seok mimics his cheery, enthusiastic way of speaking, smiling so widely that it's mocking, and embraces the glee that jun woo's downtrodden expression gives him

He does hate having to curl his hair to copy jun woo's usual hairstyle though

At this point han seo finds out he has a second older brother, because han seok wants him to be able to continue to act normal and not freak out if he sees him cosplaying as jun woo

This brother is identical to his other one but actually really nice to him and it's both incredible and completely terrifying. It takes han seo a while to warm up to jun woo because he looks so much like han seok, as well as for fear of han seok's reaction, but he gets there

Whenever they meet (usually bc of han seok) the two bond over their shared fear and hatred of han seok. There's twice the himbo power. Incredible

Jun woo had had no idea that he had a younger (half) brother, and his heart goes out to him for having to live under han seok's abuse for so long

So he makes an effort to get to know han seo when han seok isn't around to yell at them. Han seo appreciates this a lot, because jun woo is like han seok on his incredibly rare good days except much better and all the time

Being a veteran at Handling Han SeokTM, he gives jun woo tips on how to get on han seok's good side and avoid getting things thrown at you

Jun woo tells han seo that one day when they get free of han seok they should take a trip to disneyland. Han seo, who has never been to an amusement park before, makes him promise it

Han seok's babel boss reveal presentation goes more or less the same way, except it's also a twin reveal and choi myung hee and mr han have to deal with the fact that not only is their intern the babel chairman's twin brother, but they have also been switching places regularly

Meanwhile cha young, who is out there living her best anti big pharma life, thinks jun woo is acting weird. Some days he's super bubbly, almost too bubbly, and on other days he's more subdued, seemingly a bit on edge.

Biggest red flag comes when she, him and vincenzo eat spicy food together

The spicy food tolerance gene missed han seok altogether and endowed han seo and jun woo with its power

So though he doesn't protest when cha young orders the extremely spicy dish jun woo usually gets for him, han seok struggles to finish the food almost as much as vincenzo does

Cha young thinks that's really sus, but she keeps her questions to herself because there's really no explanation for it unless jun woo was replaced by a government clone or aliens. Or his secret identical twin. Hah, imagine

She files the thought away for later and they continue to dig into the man behind han seo and babel. They find out about han seok, but there's no remaining information about jun woo in the files because the jang family thought losing him was supremely embarrassing so they tried to make sure no one knew

Meanwhile han seok is super happy he's gained another protective shield. If babel gets into trouble he can force han seo to go to jail for him, and if he ever gets personally exposed he can make jun woo take the fall for him. Genius

For that purpose he makes sure no one except the babel quartet know about him and jun woo being twins

He finds that it's interesting living as jun woo though, people interact with him in a way they never do when he's han seok. Jun woo's neighbours say hello to him when he goes by, and the lady in the local convenience store makes small talk with him and asks how his new job is going. And cha young is an incredibly unusual person, han seok finds that he has some level of attraction to her, and enjoys her company

While han seo is a puppet, jun woo is a mask, a protective measure and a means to explore the world, and han seok mentally pats himself on the back for having such useful brothers

But he has to stop spending time pretending to be jun woo for now bc he knows his identity is at risk of being discovered by jipuragi squad as they hunt down the person who exposed vincenzo as a mafia member

So when vincenzo does find out that han seok is allegedly jun woo, and tells cha young, it actually isn't han seok she's sitting with when she receives the news

Naturally she doesn't know this, and she feels supremely betrayed

And when vincenzo breaks into 'han seok's' house, it's actually jun woo's house. Jun woo, who was not expecting the mafia to break into his house, is understandably scared. The kneeling gun scene goes down, except there is no bravado on jun woo's part and he's genuinely terrified

Vincenzo is arrested as planned, and jun woo meets cha young in the police station as she goes to help vincenzo

She's furious, and jun woo honestly denies that it was him who killed her father and the babel victims, unable to expose that it was han seok because he's scared of the consequences and because it sounds like such a ridiculous excuse

Poor guy gets the double slap intended for his twin brother

When han seok hears about it he laughs a lot. Jun woo is understandably angry about his reaction, but he is forced to seethe in silence

Nevertheless han seok decides to go into hiding (and forces jun woo to do the same somewhere else, hiring guards to make sure he doesn't leave) because even if chayenzo think jun woo is the babel chairman, they still have the same face

Unfortunately for han seok this means that vincenzo's spy squad see him going into his own safe house, and he gets to be the victim of the drugged water

After a few more near death scares courtesy of the local mafia man, choi myung hee suggests he reveal himself as chairman so he doesn't die at the hands of vincenzo unknown and like a loser. And so he does

At the expense of jun woo, whose identity has more or less been stolen now, and who is now indefinitely confined to the family property han seok had him hide in

The war begins all out, and jipuragi squad works hard at removing han seok's support circle, starting with daechang daily, then the anti-union activities

Han seo watches all this unfold and starts to wonder how he can get his better older brother free while taking down the other one

The answer comes to him when he sees chayenzo cover han seok with pigs blood. They're the only people who seemed to consistently be able to one up han seok, and he has only heard good things about cha young from jun woo, not to mention the fact that surely even han seok can't defeat a mafia member in the long run

So he asks mr han to help him meet vincenzo, and he tells him he has twin older brothers and asks for his help in betraying the bad one and saving the good one

Vincenzo thinks he's messing with him, and turns down han seo's request to be on the same side

But then jipuragi squad opens the guillotine file, and there below han seok's escapades in homicide and the details on han seo's suffering, is the shocking secret of the jang family, the existence of a 3rd jang brother, han seok's twin brother jang han sol

Cha young remembers how jun woo hadn't been able to eat spicy food that one time and suddenly everything makes sense

For his part vincenzo remembers what han seo had said and mentally kicks himself for thinking it was a lie

They puzzle over what this could mean and where han seok's twin brother could be now. Is the man who revealed himself as the babel chairman the real han seok? Are both of them evil? Is one being used by the other?

Cha young silently wonders which times jun woo had just been jun woo, and which times she had been eating lunch or joking with han seok the babel chairman and serial murderer

They decide they have to find the other jang twin in order to answer their questions

Problem is that he's been absent from work for the past 2 weeks, and when vincenzo breaks into his house, it looks like it hasn't been lived in for quite a while

The trail seems to lead nowhere, and they turn their attention back to tearing down babel, with the new knowledge sitting uncomfortably in the backs of their minds

And then han seo shows up at the jipuragi office in all his coffee wielding glory to plead his cooler older brother's case again

This time, to han seo's surprise, they listen to him patiently when he tells them about his older brothers. He makes sure to stress that the only one he wants to betray is han seok, and that jun woo has done nothing wrong

If the fact that they've read the part of the guillotine file that talked about what han seo had had to suffer under han seok makes it easier for them to believe him, he doesn't have to know that

The only way they can strike at han seok and simultaneously clear jun woo of suspicion is to reveal that they're twins

To do that they have to find jun woo. Han seo doesn't know where exactly he is, but he tells them that han seok would probably try and use jun woo as a shield should he ever be sent to jail

The guillotine file gives them what they need to force the prosecution to put han seok behind bars under fabricated charges. It wouldn't last long once actual investigation starts, but hopefully it will be enough

Han seok takes the bait, unknowingly, and shuttles jun woo off in his place. There's not much that irritates him as much as the thought of going to jail, and this is the perfect chance to test jun woo's loyalty. It also gives him a blind spot to operate, while his enemies think he's in jail. You can't dodge a hidden dagger and all that.

When the jipuragi squad watches the arrest of the babel chairman on the news, there's a nervous hunch to 'han seok's' shoulders, and the impassive smile he seems to be going for isn't quite right

Vincenzo and cha young go to visit him in jail

When they first see him, cha young immediately feels bad, despite herself. He looks like he hasn't slept well in ages, and his expression is far from his usual cheer, sober and sullen. This had better really be jun woo, she does not want to ever feel pity for jang han seok

It is jun woo, and he really hasn't slept well in ages, as reuniting with han seok and his violent tendencies has reawakened the memories from his childhood in the jang household that he had supressed, causing all kinds of nightmares

He doesn't look up as they enter and sit opposite him. Cha Young takes charge, and vincenzo lingers behind her, a solid and present support

When she speaks his head snaps up at the sound of her voice, before he seems to want to correct himself and looks away

When he looks at her again there are no traces of jun woo in his face, his expression haughty and unbothered

It's chillingly like the han seok they had sat across following the pig's blood incident, and cha young has to work hard to push down the flare of anger the expression causes

She decides not to beat around the bush. She presses the printed page of the jang han sol section of the guillotine file up against the glass, and watches as jun woo's eyes widen, the facade falling as quickly as he had donned it

Jun woo takes in the picture of the two identical little boys and has to squeeze his eyes shut at the wave of fear that hits him

In its wake is a small flare of hope. If they know he isn't han seok, maybe they can help him

Cha young watches as jun woo seems to deflate at the sight of the document, and now she's sure it isn't han seok, because she's never seen him allow himself to show any form of weakness

When jun woo looks up again, there is determination mixed in with the weariness in his eyes

A while later, cha young exhales shakily as they walk out, vincenzo's hand steady and comforting on her back. She's surprised at how relieved she is to know that the jun woo she had known had not been an elaborate set up, a con which had seen her at some of her lowest moments. Her heart goes out to jun woo, but there's an undeniable joy at the confirmation that her friend still exists, because it means he can be saved

The plan is simply to collect evidence of the fact that jun woo is not han seok. Best case scenario a video of them together, though a good photo will do as well. It would also work if they can somehow get footage of han seok out and about while jun woo is in jail

The first obvious course of action is to look for cctv footage. They hunt high and low through the cameras at babel, at wusang, and around han seok and jun woo's houses, but the searches are largely fruitless

With han seo's help, they locate the safehouses han seok likes to hide out in, and vincenzo sends men to snoop around each property. This ultimately pays off when, at the 3rd property, han seok is spotted standing by a window.

The second stage begins with Mr ahn's help, and they get a swat team to raid the house han seok is hiding out in.

Fully believing that everyone thinks you're in jail makes you sloppy, and han seok doesn't see it coming until the black vehicles are speeding down his driveway

He doesn't stop to take anything much, he grabs a hockey stick and he runs, wild and angry, out into the dark of the woods surrounding the house

Vincenzo watches him charge into the forest on the cctv footage retrieved from the house and smirks

The footage hits the news the next day. The headline is in large, bold letters, "Chairman Jang Han Seok spotted at holiday residence, despite prison sentence." The picture below the tagline serves as the final blow, side by side images of Han Seok sprinting away from the house, and an identical man sitting demurely in a jail cell.

As the story breaks, people begin to step forward, old employees of the jang household who had known and seen both han seok and han sol. There's nothing like good gossip to get people talking, and the shocking secret of the jang twins makes the rounds in record time

Jun woo's identity is rechecked, and he is set free

Cha young, vincenzo and han seo go to meet him when he gets out. Han seo tackles him in a hug, and cha young smacks him heartily on the back. Vincenzo doesn't react much but he does shoot jun woo a smile.

Han seok hasn't been seen in days, and jun woo is unbelievably happy to be himself again

It isn't over yet though, babel still needs to pay and han seok still needs to be found. Search parties comb through the woods around the house regularly, but there's still no sign of him. In the meantime, jipuragi prepares their final attack.

Han seo lets jun woo stay with him, and the house is fortified by multiple levels of guards

It's still mildly unsettling for han seo to have someone with han seok's face in his house, in his own safe space, but jun woo makes for a far better housemate than han seok ever was, and gradually he relaxes

For a few days, despite the tension of not knowing where your psychopath brother who probably really wants to kill you could be lurking, when there is a spare moment in the evening, han seo and jun woo catch up on years of lost brotherhood

Han seo tells him about his mother, and jun woo talks about his adopted family. Neither of them mention han seok, they skirt around his name like he doesn’t exist, like speaking their trauma aloud to someone who had been there too would make it too real to bear. Jun woo knows he had gotten the better end of the deal, he had been separated from han seok pretty early. Han seo had lost too many years of his life to their psychopath brother, and jun woo isn't sure he knows how to confront that, or how to comfort him. He hopes he can learn

Han seo wants to ask what exactly had happened to lead to jun woo being removed from the jang household and separated from han seok, but he doesnt dare. Maybe later, maybe when they aren't still worried about what han seok could do to them

Then the jipuragi squad files their lawsuit against babel. Han seok still hasn't been heard from, and they begin to wonder if he got lost in the woods. Maybe he fell of a cliff, or into a river

Either way, the trial goes spectacularly badly for babel, aided by the fact that vincenzo had threatened the unjust judge before the trial. The verdict is guilty, and it serves as a means to kick-start further investigation into previously dismissed babel trials

The day after the trial, han seok reappears

He was lost in the woods for a while, but he found his way out and laid low for a while plotting a way to get back at vincenzo and cha young for destroying his backup plans and destroying his family and company's reputation. He will also have to deal with his traitorous brothers.

It's a big blow, but it's not one he cannot recover from. All he has to do is get his revenge, terrify his brothers back into submission, and go back to his plans for his babel.

So he requests the kidnapping of cha young, and he gets his men to attack the guards at han seo's house and take her there, cornering his brothers. He strolls in when he gets word that everything is done, cocky and confident, twirling a gun between his fingers

He takes in the open fear on han seo's face, the frightened anger on jun woo's face, and the sneer on cha young's face, and he laughs. They are consistent to the very end, and he wouldn't have it any other way.

All that’s left is vincenzo, and a short while after a brief and taunt filled phone call he arrives, eyes wide and angry. Han seok does not waste time in pointing his gun at the mafia man. He stops where he is, still glaring at han seok, eyes darting regularly to cha young

Because he is never one to turn down some fun, in a bid to further anger vincenzo, han seok crouches down and points the gun to cha young's head. He watches at vincenzo's face twists with anger and worry, and he revels in it. Out of the corner of his eye he sees jun woo has moved in front of han seo, like he's protecting him, and han seok wants to laugh

He speaks to cha young in jun woo's voice to spite them both, mockingly sounding out his words in his twin's bright tone

But suddenly vincenzo drops to his knees to plead for cha young's life, and han seok grins in satisfaction. The satisfaction is shortlived, however, as something solid suddenly crashes into the back of his head

It dazes him enough that he lets go of cha young for a moment, and she takes the chance to headbutt him so hard that he drops the gun. Vincenzo pounces almost immediately, and aims a kick to han seok's head, knocking him out

The last thing he sees before everything fades to black is his spitting image standing a distance away, holding a dented art deco lamp.

When they are sure han seok has been knocked out for real, the relief that sweeps the room is palpable. Han seo slumps down and jun woo moves to check on him as vincenzo unties cha young

Jun woo moves to call the police, but vincenzo tells him not to.

Instead, he makes a call of his own, and soon two men enter and carry out the still unconscious han seok. Jun woo wants to ask where they’re taking him, but there’s a dark glint in vincenzo’s eyes that makes him swallow the question.

None of them see han seok again until he’s on the news. His body is found in a river near the family property he had first run away from, and the consensus seems to be that he fell in and drowned while lost in the woods

The whole matter has vincenzo written all over it, but no one is going to ask about it

Han seo and jun woo hold a funeral for him because it would be suspicious if they didn’t, but they work hard to make it as underwhelming as possible. When han seo cant stop shaking (whether it’s in weariness, relief, or anger at any traces of grief, jun woo can’t tell, and honestly neither can han seo) as they stand in front of the portrait of their deceased brother, jun woo silently rests a hand on his back.

After that is over with, they take a break to have a small ‘han seok is gone’ party, and then they both throw themselves into work

Han seo takes charge of babel, firing all of han seok’s people and working hard at cleaning up the stain of corruption he’d left behind. He works hard to transform the company’s reputation, and begins the process of compensating all the people who had been wronged by them in some shape or form

Jun woo leaves wusang and starts his own law firm. Han seo makes the company his first customer, and jun woo tries hard to run his firm without any traces of what made lawyers at wusang such monsters

Cha young and him have a friendly law firm rivalry going, much to vincenzo’s amusement

When they aren’t working, jun woo and han seo hang out a lot. Jun woo is determined to replace han seo’s memories of a terrible older brother with better ones with a more pleasant older brother. Han seo still struggles sometimes with seeing han seok in jun woo, but he’s more than happy to overwrite han seok’s image in his mind with jun woo’s

A few months after everything is stable again, they do take that trip to disneyland. The picture they take outside the park is framed on both their desks.

The next year, vincenzo and cha young get married, and han seo and jun woo attend the wedding. They bring expensive gifts, and jun woo cries like it’s his own family getting married. Cha young rolls her eyes at him, but she’s pleased to have him there

It will take a while to move on fully from the damage han seok caused, but they are all working hard at it. Because now han seok is gone for good, and everything is fine.

bonus

The Incident that led to han sol becoming jun woo happened when he and han seok were 6 and han seok, having decided that they had to see who was the superior twin, challenged him to a fight to the death

It was traumatic to the point that jun woo repressed all the memories of his childhood with han seok

Han seo once called jun woo hyung when speaking to han seok, and han seok got really angry and threw a lamp at him

Before vincenzo finishes off han seok, cha young slaps him six times to make up for the two slaps she mistakenly gave jun woo

After everything blows over, jun woo takes han seo with him the next time he goes to visit his adopted family. They dote on him like he's their family too, and han seo feels more loved than he has since he lost his mother. He says so to jun woo, and from then on he takes him along whenever he visits them

Cha young, jun woo and han seo meet up sometimes to eat spicy food, both because they like it but also to spite han seok’s memory just that little bit more

Because han seok died before he could find out about vincenzo’s mother, she’s alive and well and vincenzo visits her regularly

#the way tumblr blocked me from posting this dsfsd #3 failed attempts at posting and some rewriting later here it is #my attempt at dealing with no new vincenzo content by constructing elaborate alternate universes #anyway stan jun woo #han seok? i dont know him #vincenzo kdrama #tvn vincenzo #vincenzo fic #vincenzo fanfiction #vincenzo headcanons #imagine if we'd gotten this tho #the potential for misunderstandings #plus han seo getting a biological brother that is nice to him #immaculate #kdrama #might post this on ao3 #vincenzo #jang jun woo #jang han seok

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pwarkluv · 4 years ago

Text

❝ you’re the one i want ❞ - yji

yang jeongin x reader | fluff | 1.8k words

WARNINGS | lowercase is intended, high school au, established relationship au (if that’s a thing lol), non-idol au, just your good old going on a date kinda fanfic where you two realize just how in love y’all are, whipped!jeongin, really fluffy, did i mention fluff?

SUMMARY | when your date ends with a giant promise.

AUTHOR’S NOTE | another fluff fanfic because that’s my forte and i haven’t written any skz things yet :P hehe the pic is my pfp. anyways jeongin is one of my ults and my bias in skz so this is gonna be fun to write! also i’m doing this right, right? it’s yji? yang jeong in? idk why but for some reason it doesn’t look right to me. also the ending’s trash i’m sorry-

“baby please stay still.” your boyfriend softly scolded as he carefully fixed the bunny hat on your head, one hand keeping the hair out of your face and the other placed carefully on the back of your neck to keep you still.

it was the last couple of days before the start of your guys’s senior year, before things get complicated academically. the august heat burns but you didn’t think twice about it, more excited about the fact that you and jeongin were at seoul land.

your tiny frame bounced up and down, slightly frustrating your boyfriend. he didn’t mind though because you were absolutely adorable in the bunny hat he bought for you. jeongin smiled softly at your excited face reminding him of a kid opening christmas presents.

his hands then went up to fix the froggy headband you chose for him, making sure he didn’t look completely stupid. when you first pointed out the headband, jeongin had a protest at the tip of his tongue. but dang, the way you looked at him had him nodding his head in approval before he said a word.

“are you done yet innie?” you whined, holding onto his arm as he chuckled. jeongin’s free hand goes up to squeeze the paw of your hat, one of the ears going up. his heart never failed to race whenever you two made eye contact. he wholeheartedly believes you are the most beautiful thing he has ever seen in jeongin’s eighteen years of life.

jeongin smiles at your blushing face before grabbing your hand.

“let’s go loser.” and he drags you to the viking ship on your left.

❝ i like shiny things, but i’d marry you with paper rings ❞

you couldn’t help but smile at your boyfriend’s focused gaze. you guys were taking a little break from rides and instead going around the games and food stands. his tongue poked out as jeongin focused on the target in front of him, fire behind his eyes.

you two were sharing a funnel cake when he noticed your eyes staring at the cute cow stuffed animal. jeongin immediately recognizes it from a kdrama you two watched on your first movie night as a couple. and that’s how you found yourselves standing in front of a water gun stand watching your boyfriend try and win you that stuffed animal.

the man at the running stand laughed quietly at your dumb and in love expression before the ding rang, indicating jeongin won. your boy jumped a little in victory before turning to you with the biggest smile ever.

and that’s when you felt it. that warm and fuzzy in your tummy, the racing in your heart, the automatic smile you gave him back. you and jeongin have been together since the summer before your second year of high school. you watched as he grew from the shy and timid boy to the (slightly more) confident man he is now. you couldn’t believe how you’re already gonna start your senior year with the love of your life.

love.

in that moment when jeongin stuffed the plushie into your hands and gave you a hug, you knew you were completely in love with him. you wanted to marry him someday.

you didn’t care if you two were in your pajamas or dinosaur suits, you just wanted to be his.

❝ uh huh, that’s right, darling you’re the one i want ❞

jeongin’s palms felt sweaty and clamp as you dragged him towards the carousel. your carefree and euphoric expression made his heart double in size as he blinked at you. suddenly the ring in his pocket felt heavy, weighing him down with every step he took.

the start of summer while jeongin was at the mall with his hyungs, a pretty ring caught his eye. it wasn’t anything too big or expensive (which he was thankful for as a broke high school student), but absolutely stunning. the ring had a thin silver band with one medium sized diamond in the middle, tinier ones surrounding the big one.

and before he knew it, jeongin was at the shop paying for a promise ring he was hoping to give to you before school started. there was a matching one he bought on a whim, leaving him more broker than before.

jeongin knew he was in love with you in the middle of your third year in high school when you two had a burping contest to see who could burp the loudest. you won (only because he let you) and from then he only had heart eyes for you.

he’s never felt that comfortable and safe with anyone. being so carefree and home. he was at home with you. so buying you that promise ring was his way of saying he wants to be with you forever.

❝ i hate accidents except when we went from friends to this ❞

you two met at the start of your freshman year when jeongin spilled milk all over your shirt. he was a shy boy so whenever the lunch bell rang, he ran out of the cafeteria like his life depended on it. but one day he wasn’t aware of where he was going and ran right into your timid frame.

suddenly you were met with a cold feeling running down your chest.

the poor boy freaked and apologized faster than you could register what had happened. you were a bubbly kid, though not very social so you didn’t mind what had happened. but for some reason you let yourself be dragged by the stuttered stranger, offering you his hoodie he had in his locker.

his hoodie felt foreign and warm on your body. although he was a stick at fourteen, jeongin was tall. the cloth looked big on your short frame, hands disappeared from the long sleeves. the boy was beyond red looking at you in his clothes. his eyes widened, malfunctioning on why he felt this way.

“i’m really sorry.” he muttered in embarrassment before turning around to leave.

“wait!” you called out, tugging on his wrist. if jeongin didn’t resemble a tomato then, he definitely did now. your hand felt warm around his wrist and the sudden source of heat was all his mind could think about.

“thank you.” you shyly said taking back your hand. you don’t know what has possessed you but suddenly you’re asking what his name was.

“what’s your name? i’m y/n!” you said with a small smile. jeongin’s heart felt like it was about to explode.

❝ uh huh, that’s right darling, you’re the one i want ❞

“come one baby it’s almost dawn let’s go~” you whined a bit, pulling his tall frame towards the line. it was almost sunset and you wanted to go on the ferris wheel as the last thing you two would do for the day before studies filled up your date nights.

well actually, jeongin was the one who suggested going on the ferris wheel to you before you stuck with it in excitement. it was all a part of his master plan to give you that promise ring. he was pretty confident you’d take it, after being together for so long, though of course there’s that small inkling of doubt that you’d reject it and him.

but now that it was almost time, jeongin couldn’t move his legs. he was really about to give you a promise ring.

jeongin laughed to mask his nerves but you knew better.

“awe is my baby afraid of heights?” you joked, no longer pulling his arm but putting your hand in his. “don’t worry, y/nnie is here to protect.” you broke out into a fighting pose which immediately made him laugh at your silliness.

❝ in paper rings, in picture frames, in dirty dreams ❞

here you guys were at the top on the ride, the sunset warm on your face. jeongin’s leg was bouncing in nervousness causing the box you were in to shake. you were about to reach out to the boy before he spoke up.

“y/n?” he asked in a small yet serious voice. you couldn’t help but worry.

“yes my love?” you responded back, turning your body to face him on the seats you guys were on. “what’s wrong? you’ve been acting weird ever since you got on the ferris wheel.”

your mind was racing with possibilities, the worst one sounding the most obvious with the way jeongin seemed so serious. he wasn’t breaking up with you, right?

jeongin took a deep breath before looking into your eyes, the color more beautiful than the sunset behind you.

“i love you so much.” he continued before reaching into his pocket, fumbling a bit with the box the ring came in.

“and i know we’re young and have so much ahead of us. ah you know how much i’m bad with words but, there’s so much we’re unsure of like what’s 25 - 8 or what college we’re going to. but if there’s one thing i’m sure of, it’s that you’re my everything.” the boy said, trying not to stumble over his words. his heart was at an unmeasurable rate, one hand on the ring and the other on your own hand. suddenly he took out the ring, a red velvety box which made you gasp in shock.

at this point you were tearing up. so he wasn’t breaking up with you?

“this isn’t anything too big so don’t freak out.” jeongin joked making you chuckle a bit. “but i know that i want to spend the rest of my life with you.” his grip on your hand tightened before letting go, opening the box.

“it’s nothing too big but hopefully this could show you how much you mean to me, y/n. here’s a promise ring because i really want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

the ring was beautiful in your eyes. tears fell on onto your cheeks as you looked to your boyfriend. all you could see was genuine love and care.

you caught him in a hug, causing the box to shake again, sobbing into his chest.

“i love you, i love you, i love you.” you chanted into his chest making him laugh.

“don’t cry my love. i still need to put it on you.” jeongin chuckled. you wiped off the salty water before holding out your hand. jeongin slowly took your hand as if it was made of glass before slipping on the ring. it fit perfectly.

❝ oh, you’re the one i want ❞

you put his ring on as well before the box moved indicating that you guys were going back down. before the sight of the pretty sunset escaped your view, you quickly grabbed jeongin’s face to meet yours in a kiss. a kiss to promise that you’d guys would be forever. because yang jeongin is everything you’ve ever wanted.

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sevlgi · 4 years ago

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white knight

requested: yes

group: red velvet

pairing: irene x fem!reader

genre: fluff, mild angst

contents: college!au, scaredy cat!irene

warnings: swearing

synopsis: Irene isn’t looking to be saved by a white knight, but she can’t help falling for you when you rescue her. From a spider. In a college dorm.

a/n: i’m sorry for how long this took me 😂 I hope you enjoy!

word count: 3.8k

It’s not a super fun thing to be woken up by a blood-curdling scream at 4 in the morning.

The hallways and rooms of your dorm building are especially echoey, causing the scream to sound like it’s erupting right next to you. Considering that you’re not a heavy sleeper, it’s pretty damn terrifying.

“Shit,” you gasp, fumbling to get out of bed. Your dorm is pitch dark, as it has been for the past week or so while most people in your building have been gone for winter break. You thought you were the last one left, but clearly, that’s not true. “What the hell?”

The scream sounds again, louder and shriller this time, and you wince, stuffing your feet into shoes that you’re sure don’t match and grabbing the heaviest textbook you can find. Your campus is supposed to be pretty safe, but judging by the screams, there’s probably a serial killer on campus, and you’ll definitely die fighting them off.

It’s not hard to find the room of the screamer; it’s the only door ajar at the end of the hallway, bright light spilling out from inside. Honestly, it’s weird for a killer to keep the door open and the lights on, but your sleep-deprived brain doesn’t make much of it, and you kick the door open violently.

There’s an ugly cracking sound as the doorknob slams into the wall, but you’re focused on the fact that there’s definitely not a killer in the dorm. No, there’s only one person inside, a petite girl in a bathrobe and face mask, standing on top of her bed and screaming at the open door of the bathroom. “What- did you crack my wall?” she demands, staring at you.

“I- that doesn’t matter, what the fuck are you screaming at?”

She points a shaking hand at the bathroom, and you’re half-expecting to see a rabid dog or a dead body. Instead, it takes almost a full minute for you to find the spider on the tiled floor. “The fuck- you’re screaming about a spider?” you groan, already wishing you didn’t get out of bed for this.

The girl frowns and crosses her arms. “Well, yes. Spiders are scary. If you don’t mind, could you kill it? You did break my wall.”

You smash it with your foot, scraping it along the floor to leave a streak of spider guts. The girl’s still staring at her gross floor when you whirl around with your hands on your hips, about to give her a piece of your mind. “Why the hell? You gotta be more considerate, it’s 4 in the morning and you’re screaming your head off about a tiny-ass bug.”

“It’s not my fault I have arachnophobia,” she snaps back, and you bristle at the audacity. “I mean, I didn’t ask for some white-knight wannabe to burst in and ruin my wall.”

“Wh-” you sputter. Drawing yourself up to your full considerably unimpressive height, you spit out, “Well, fuck you. Next time there’s an actual serial killer, I’ll just leave you here to be smeared on the floor like that goddamn spider. Again, fuck you!”

“Wannabe,” she calls out behind you, muffled when you slam the door shut. You want to believe it’s a fever dream, but the reality of it is that you have a rude-ass neighbor with a horror movie scream, and you didn’t get enough sleep to survive class.

All a day in the life of a college student, right?

“Pleeeaaasseeee.”

You glare menacingly at Jisoo, who doesn’t even flinch. “No.”

“Come on,” your roommate pleads, tugging on your arm. She’s all too used to your stubbornness to give up on something she wants you to do now. “Please? I really want you to meet Jennie!”

“Come on, Jisoo,” you sigh, still typing away at the essay you started an hour too late. “You’re dating the most popular girl on campus, and you want me to come to dinner with the two of you?” At Jisoo’s nod, you roll your eyes and ignore her pout. “You’re kidding.”

The brunette groans; even her patience has a limit. “Jennie’s so sweet, she’ll love you! Besides, she’s bringing her roommate.”

“Should I care?”

“A really hot roommate,” Jisoo amends. “Absolutely your type. I’ve met her, she’s so gorgeous. Her name is Joohyun, and she’s a year above you, I think. She’s super pretty and super sweet and I’m pretty sure she’s super gay-”

Your hand, clamped over Jisoo’s mouth, cuts off the flow of unnecessary information. Honestly, even the mention of a pretty girl isn’t enough to get you to want to go to dinner with your roommate and her uber-popular girlfriend, but you know Jisoo will just reschedule if you don’t come and nag you until you agree. “Fine. I’ll come, but I won’t be happy about it.”

“Trust me, you’ll definitely be happy,” Jisoo squeals, pressing an exaggerated kiss to your forehead before leaving the room, probably to tell her girlfriend the news.

You don’t pay any attention to your easily excited best friend, simply continuing to type away. The mention of dinner with a pretty girl quickly slips away to the back of your mind, a vague throb in the background.

“I think I see them,” Jisoo tells you with a huge grin on her face. You’re sitting in a booth opposite her, and you’ve been ignoring your roommate’s hands tapping at the table for at least 20 minutes now.

“You said that 10 minutes ago,” you grumble, flipping through the menu. Honestly, one of the only things that got you to agree to the stupid dinner was the promise of food, and your mouth is practically watering at the pictures of ramen on the menu. “Are you sure it’s them?”

Your roommate quickly smooths her hair down, grabbing your face to check your makeup and ignoring your disgruntled noise. “Yes, I’m sure. Can you at least smile?”

Luckily, there’s no more time for Jisoo to fuss over you; you spot Jennie first, recognizing her by her cute gummy smile and expensive perfume. However, when your eyes travel to the girl behind Jennie, your jaw drops in time with hers.

To anyone else, it would seem like you’re simply shocked by how pretty the girl is, and that’s partially true. ‘Joohyun’, as you remember, is absolutely gorgeous, to the point where she seems unreal. Porcelain skin, glossy raven hair, and dark eyes widened in shock make her easily the prettiest girl you’ve ever seen.

However, you can’t help but see a face mask and bathrobe that no one else can see, and you can hear an ear-piercing scream rattling in your ears. Maybe Joohyun sees the oversized shirt you wore that night, a shoe in your hand that you used to smash a stupid spider.

Either way, you’re not letting Jisoo know about what you did.

Extending your hand with the fakest smile you can muster, you introduce yourself. “Hi, Joohyun, right? I’m Y/N.”

“Um, yeah. Hi.” After taking your hand, she slides into the booth next to you, although you’re sure she’s almost hanging off the edge with how much space is between the two of you. You’re the direct opposites of Jennie and Jisoo, who are practically glued together opposite you.

Jisoo’s oblivious, but she’s not oblivious enough to miss the tension between you, and Jennie has practically no tact. Her sharp eyes observe the icy stare Joohyun gives you and she asks, “Do you two know each other?”

“No,” Joohyun answers immediately, her cold expression melting into a sweet smile when she looks to her roommate. “She just looks like someone I met a few days ago. Remember the girl I told you about?”

“Yeah,” Jennie laughs, covering her smile with her hand. “Yeah, I remember. You still haven’t fixed that crack in our wall, you know.”

You pray that Jisoo doesn’t ask for details, but of course, she does. “What crack?” she smiles, eyes lighting up at the promise of a story. Really, Jisoo?

“Oh, you know how everyone was gone for winter break?” Joohyun smiles, tucking her hair behind her ear. It’s not fair how gorgeous she looks. “There was a spider in my bathroom, so obviously I screamed.”

“Are spiders that scary?” you can’t help yourself from blurting out. Jisoo raises an eyebrow at you. “I mean, it couldn’t have been too big.”

“Anyway,” Joohyun continues, fully ignoring you. You bristle at her dismissive attitude, but stay silent to hear whatever lies she’s spinning about you. “This girl busts into my dorm and throws the door open so hard that it makes a huge crack in the wall!”

“Damn,” Jisoo comments. You want to glare at her, but that’ll just be painfully obvious. “Who was she?”

The brunette beside you laughs, shaking her head. “I don’t know! But I fully intend to find her and make her pay for my wall. To be honest, she looked a lot like Y/N, about this tall, with this hair color too. Even her face looks similar!”

“That’s funny,” Jennie chimes in now. “You should try your best to find her then, if you’ve got Y/N as a reference. It’s gonna be expensive to fix up the wall. Do you think we’ll get in trouble with administration?”

Jisoo shakes her head, and you watch on helplessly as your roommate digs you into an even bigger hole. “You won’t if you fix it in time. Y/N can help you guys!”

“Really?” Two sets of eyes turn skeptically onto you.

“I own a kit to fill in walls,” you blurt out, cursing internally. Honestly, you want to slap yourself. “Yeah, I can help you guys fill in the crack. It’ll look like nothing happened.”

Jennie offers you a gummy smile. “That’d be great! Would tomorrow work for you?”

All of a sudden, Joohyun’s eyes grow wide and she protests, “Neither of us will be home though, maybe we should wait until you have a free day?”

“Nonsense, you’ll be there. You don’t have class tomorrow, remember?” Jennie grins, flapping her hand and looking down at the menu. “You can stop by anytime, Y/N. Now, should we order? I’ll pay.”

As your roommate cooes about how considerate her girlfriend is, you studiously avoid Joohyun’s eyes. Honestly, you have no idea if you’ll survive tomorrow, not if you’re faced with a hot girl with an obvious grudge against you.

Fuck.

“Uh, would you mind opening the door a little more?”

Joohyun stares at you suspiciously through the tiny crack that she’s opened the door. You can’t help but notice how pretty she looks, hair up in a messy ponytail and dressed in a simple white shirt, but you school your expression into a frown to mirror hers. “Step away first.”

“What the fuck,” you sigh, shifting the spackling kit under your arm. “I’m not gonna slam the goddamn door again, just open it and let me in. Or do you want to explain to administration why you have a crack in your wall?”

“Because you’re an asshole,” she mumbles, opening the door just enough for you to squeeze through. “Who the hell barges into someone else’s dorm at 2 in the morning?”

“It was 4 in the morning,” you snap back, although there’s a twinge of guilt in your chest at the sight of the huge crack in the wall. The cracks aren’t wide, thank god, but there’s a lot of them. “And I barged in because I thought you were being murdered! Who the hell screams like that because of a tiny-ass spider?”

She hesitates at that, and you smirk, satisfied. Crossing her arms, Joohyun scowls, “Whatever. So, am I supposed to pay you for this or something? I don’t know how much I’d usually pay to get someone to do this for me, so don’t overcharge.”

You stare at her, at the brown eyes darting to look at anywhere but you. “What? Jesus, I’m not that much of an asshole. You don’t have to pay.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, the fuck?” you mumble, starting to open the kit you’ve set on the floor. “Did you think that little of me?”

Joohyun rolls her eyes, but you think you can see the tiniest bit of a smile tugging at her lip. “I mean, you did make that crack. It’s the least you can do.”

‘“Look, I feel bad about the crack, but you didn’t need to embarrass me in front of my roommate. You made it painfully obvious that the asshole you were talking about was me,” you frown, looking up at her.

She wordlessly places a cup of water by you, settling down in a chair a few feet away with a thoughtful twist to her brow. “Mm. Whatever, it got you to fix my wall for free.”

“Yeah, and I’m not doing it again. I’m keeping my promise that if you get murdered next time, I’m not coming to save you.”

“Sure you will,” Joohyun laughs, and you can’t help but stare at the way her eyes shine.

Suddenly, you’re not sure you will either.

The next time you see Joohyun is a few days later at 2 in the morning in the communal washing machine area.

“We’ve got to stop meeting at ass o’clock in the morning” is your greeting to her.

She looks tired, you note, although you’re sure you do too. There’s only 6 washing machines in a floor with a couple hundred students, so ass o’clock of the morning is usually when you come to steal two of the machines for you and Jisoo. Whenever Jisoo agrees to do the laundry, she miraculously finds an empty machine at a convenient time, but you’re nowhere near as lucky.

“Hey, Y/N,” Joohyun yawns, rubbing at her eyes. She’s carrying an empty hamper, probably for clothes she washed earlier. You wonder which one of the swirling machines is hers. “It seems that this is the only time of day you’re awake.”

To be honest, you don’t appreciate being teased for your choice of afternoon classes to preserve your sleep, and you tell Joohyun so. However, you do appreciate the small smile that cracks her usually impassive face. “Anyways, need help?”

“What?”

“Need. Help?” you say again, enunciating the words exaggeratedly and earning a halfhearted slap. She doesn’t respond, only opening two of the still machines. “Really, two machines? How many clothes do you have?”

“Some are Jennie’s,” Joohyun scowls, flipping a shirt more aggressively than strictly necessary. “I think some are Jisoo’s too.”

You snort, holding a pink shirt that you’re sure belongs to your roommate. “I better not find any underwear or something.”

“With how often Jisoo sleeps over, I wouldn’t be surprised,” the other girl sighs. “Seriously, how did you not meet Jennie before that dinner?”

“Apparently, Jisoo didn’t want me to get the wrong impression by hearing them fuck in the other room or something.”

“How considerate,” Joohyun says dryly, and you don’t manage to suppress your laugh. When you calm down, you realize that Joohyun’s staring at you, though she quickly averts her eyes. “No, I’m serious. I heard Jennie moan Jisoo’s name enough times before I met her that i didn’t even need to be introduced.”

You scrunch your nose, observing the neat way the other girl folds her laundry and copying. “Gross. I thought Jisoo would be the loud one.”

“No, she’s pretty loud too.”

“Oh, ew,” you protest. “I mean, that can be hot sometimes, but Jisoo probably sounds like a dying duck.”

“And you don’t?” Joohyun shoots back. Almost immediately, her pale cheeks color to a deep pink, even though you didn’t have remotely enough time to make an innuendo in your head. “Oh my god, that’s not what I meant, I don’t care what you sound like-”

“Shut up, I didn’t even think of that,” you snort, still folding laundry. “You’ve got a crazy dirty mind if you immediately connected those two things.”

Joohyun throws a shirt at your face and you yelp, catching it only to throw it back. Somehow, it breaks the tension and you both start laughing, folding laundry while exchanging jabs at your respective roommates.

Maybe she’s not as bad as you thought.

It becomes almost a tradition to meet at the laundry room at 2 in the morning on Fridays. The next time is accidental, but after that, you’re sure that Joohyun’s making changes to her schedule just to catch you doing your and your roommate’s laundry and joke with you.

You become sort-of-friends, although you rarely hang out outside of folding shirts together. Sometimes, when Jisoo and Jennie are being gross together, one of you will escape to the others’ dorm, but that’s about it.

What worries you is the not-so-friendly thoughts you begin to have about Joohyun. Sometimes, you can’t seem to stop staring at the girl’s lips, and you feel the itch to hold her hand.

It’s weird.

Therefore, you’ve been forcing Jisoo to do the laundry for the last week and keeping out of your dorm to avoid seeing your sort-of-friend.

You’re only home when Jennie comes knocking because Jisoo makes you stay home while she goes out with friends. You really can’t fathom who’s at your door, so you yank it open.

“Um… hi?” Jennie offers, a sheepish smile on her face. “I brought dessert.” True to her word, her arms are laden with boxes upon boxes of sweets, all of them your favorites.

“Is this a bribe?” You wince at the words that come out, knowing that they sound accusing. “Sorry, just…”

Jennie shrugs, placing the boxes on a table. “I mean, you’re not wrong. I am bribing you.”

Shoving a pastry in your mouth, you cross your arms and try not to look smug. “What for? You’ve got me in a good mood, it’s in your favor to ask now.”

Your roommate’s girlfriend laughs, hesitantly taking one of the desserts when you offer them. “Well. Jisoo and I actually had a really nice date planned for Valentine’s Day, but we can’t go. You probably know Jisoo has a family emergency, right?”

You manage to nod sympathetically despite your cheeks being stuffed full of sweets. “I’m going with her, she’s so worried that I don’t trust her to fly across the country on her own. But we don’t want our date to go to waste.”

“Okay, but what does this have to do with me?”

Jennie shifts, looking slightly uncomfortable. “Right, so Joohyun’s willing to go on the date, but I don’t want her to do it all alone. Would you be willing to go with her?”

At your slight frown, she rambles, “It doesn’t have to be a date for you guys, it’s just a nice dinner! You know, it can just be a nice hangout between friends who definitely don’t have feelings for each other.”

“Do you know something?” There’s a slight jump in your pulse; there’s no way Jennie could know that you might have feelings for her roommate, but you’re nervous nonetheless. What if she’s told Joohyun?

She blushes, chewing lightly on her lower lip. “Of course not! So. Will you do it?”

It barely takes a moment of thinking for you to say, “Sure, I’ll go on a date with Joohyun.” You wince lightly at the blunt way you said it, clarifying, “A not-date. With my friend.”

“Good,” Jennie sighs, standing. She returns to her confident popular-girl image with a smile, handing you a little envelope with a time and date written on it. “Have fun.”

“I will,” you mumble, staring at the envelope.

What have you got to be nervous about? You’re just hanging out with your friend, who you definitely don’t have feelings for and who definitely doesn’t have feelings for you either.

Right?

You really don’t know why you spend almost an hour getting ready for your not-date when you usually wouldn’t care what you wore to hang out with friends.

It feels stupid to frown at your simple outfit while piles of clothes surround you. Just on time, you hear Joohyun’s knock, 3 quick raps as always.

“Hi,” you manage to get out, sounding more breathless than you’d like. She looks perfect as always, but she looks just as flustered as you feel. “Um, let’s go?”

“Right, yeah,” Joohyun mutters, shaking her head and walking faster than she should. “My car’s this way.”

Both of you are uncharacteristically quiet on the way to the car and even more so when Joohyun starts driving. It’s awkward, and you’re sure it has something to do with the fact that you have feelings for her.

You can’t muster up the courage to say something, but you remain silent until the two of you order food. Suddenly, Joohyun groans out, “This is so awkward.”

“Right?” Glancing around you to make sure people aren’t staring, you slump a bit, shaking your head. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” She raises an eyebrow, sipping at the cup of wine she holds. “It’s not your fault, it’s just weird for us to be on a date when we’re just friends.”

As you frown, you can’t help but notice the slight blush on Joohyun’s cheekbones. “I mean, my feelings for you have got to make it weird, right?”

Immediately, Joohyun spits out the mouthful of unfortunately expensive wine, hacking and coughing as she stares at you. “Wh- feelings!?”

You can’t help the dark red flush rising to your face, definitely less flattering than Joohyun’s own. “Shut up, Jennie told me you knew.”

“I don’t,” she says, looking thoroughly convinced. “I was being awkward because I thought Jennie told you about my feelings.”

“Your feelings? What feelings?” You do your best not to be so loud when the other customers start looking your way, but you can’t help the shocked expression on your face.

Joohyun scowls now, staring anywhere but at you. “The same feelings as yours, idiot. Romantic ones, not-friends ones! Want-to-kiss-you feelings, want-to-go-on-dates-with-you feelings!”

“What…?” Realization dawns over you, your mouth forming a little ‘o’. “Jennie and Jisoo knew. They told each other about our feelings and set us up! I’ll bet they didn’t even have a dinner reservation!”

The girl opposite you groans, shaking her head. “Oh, this is so like them. They’re so meddling, I’m going to give them a piece of my mind once they get back!”

“Same.” You sit in silence for barely another moment before you blurt out, “So, you like me back?”

“Yes, you idiot,” Joohyun scowls, tossing her napkin at your head as if it can block the growing grin on your face. “Now shut up and enjoy the food.”

You do as you’re told, but dinner is definitely less awkward once the truth’s out. A weight is lifted from your shoulders now that your feelings are reciprocated, and you catch Joohyun smiling at you as if she feels the same way.

Maybe you don’t regret getting up to kill that spider after all. It’s still undecided.

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aces-of-the-center-court · 4 years ago

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Hello, thank you for loving the reaction to ex scenario! Since it was our first attempt at scenario, we weren’t sure how well received it would be. But thankfully!! It was very loved. ╥﹏╥ Also, thank you for the request! I hope this would live up to the standard of the previous one. I had a hard time finding inspiration for this… (;´Д｀)

- Mod Raine reaction to ex with sakusa, atsumu & oikawa

Daichi Sawamura:

Hiking up the forested mountain, you made your way to the location for the children’s summer camp that you signed up to volunteer at. Upon arrival, you spotted numerous staff and volunteers scattered around, preparing materials. You approached the person-in-charge to offer your help and was assigned to the game team, where you were met with a familiar face.

“Y/N?”

“Daichi?” You both called out simultaneously.

“You two know each other? Perfect!” Said the person-in-charge, who then instructed, “Then I’ll put you both in charge of free play, okay? Help to brainstorm games that the kids can play during free play. Rest of the team, continue preparations for the treasure hunt.”

With a ‘Roger!’ from the team, the person-in-charge left before the two of you even opened your mouths to protest. Not that either of you would have anyway. You glanced at Daichi and let out an apologetic chuckle, “Let’s do this?” At his smile and nod, the two of you began to discuss and exchange ideas.

When the children arrived in their groups, you and Daichi were conveniently allocated to accompany the same group during their day activities. Paired together for several activities throughout the camp, you and Daichi quickly moved past the awkward stage and started interacting like before – constantly joking around, praising, and teasing one another. With natural chemistry between the two of you, getting along well with the kids earned the both of you a new nickname – ‘Parents Daichi and Y/N’ that promptly became a hot topic among the volunteers and children alike.

Soon, it was time for free play. The volunteers took turns being the tagger for ‘Red Light, Green Light’ and your time came shortly after.

“Green light,” You held on for a while, then concluded rapidly, “red light!” causing some to not be able to pause their actions in time, including Daichi who toppled over when he attempted to slide to a stop. Everyone turned their attention to Daichi and sneered at him for moving so obviously during Red Light, highlighting his movements to you.

Laughing at his misfortune, you gestured for him to come over, “Daichi, you’re caught!” With a small laugh, Daichi surrendered and jogged over. The instant he linked pinkies with you, echoes of bashful giggles and ‘oohs’ followed suit. “Did Daichi-san get caught on purpose to hold hands with Y/N-san?” mocked a cheeky child. Your face reddened while Daichi attempted to justify himself, but the children only continued chaffing him.

The teasing continued into dinner when Daichi gave you some of his potatoes (your favourite food) by habit, and into the next day when he shielded you from the water balloons during the water fight. “Daichi and Y/N are a couple!” soon became an ongoing buzz for the rest of the camp, with everyone pairing you two up repeatedly.

Time flew by quickly and before you realised, it was already the last night of the camp. At the thought of the camp ending, you couldn’t fall asleep. You decided to go for a walk, where you noticed Daichi sitting on the grass by the riverbank. After pondering for a moment, you strolled towards him, “Can I join you?”

Daichi looked up at the sound of your voice. With a soft gaze and warm smile, he set a handkerchief on the grass and motioned for you to sit.

“You know, I didn’t think you’d be here when I applied as a volunteer.” You spoke while settling down.

“Me neither,” Daichi replied and light-heartedly joked, “but I guess fate brought us together, even now.”

Sitting silently, the two of you reflected on your times together during the camp. It was filled with gleeful moments, almost as if time turned back to before your separation. The constant teasing only served to remind you two of those times.

“It’s about to end, huh?” You sighed.

Daichi nodded and asked, as if debriefing, “So, what’s your favourite part of the camp?”

“Probably free play!” You contemplated before answering, “Being in charge of it made me feel more emotionally attached.” then chuckled as you added, “Also, your fall was pretty hilarious.”

Daichi laughed as he recalled his fall. “It seems I fell for you again.” He joked to mask his embarrassment, then fell silent after realising his remark.

Your heart skipped a beat. In case he could hear your beating heart in the awkward silence, you quickly changed the topic, “What about you? What’s your favourite?” A moment of quiet later, Daichi declared, voice deep.

“…I enjoyed every moment with you.”

Surprised, you gaped at his direction. “Y/N,” Daichi voiced with resolve, “I really don’t wish for it to end like this.” He returned your gaze with sincerity.

“Will you give me another chance to be with you again?”

Kuroo Tetsurou:

“Boo!” A voice yelled as a tall figure jumped out abruptly from behind a wall, causing you to jolt in surprise. Rather annoyed and confused by the sudden jump scare, you snapped your head up to spot the face of the culprit. Your irritated expression morphed into one of bewilderment when the face of someone you did not expect came into view, “…Kuroo?”

Pairing a playful smirk with earnest eyes, he teased, “Missed me?” After taking a second to process the situation, you dropped your shoulders in resignation and sighed, “It’s been so long since we last saw each other, and you decide to pop out from nowhere like that?”

He chuckled and apologised, “My bad. I saw you at the mall earlier and wanted to talk to you… but I couldn’t resist the urge for a dramatic introduction.” You shook your head and asked, “So? What did you want to talk about?”

Upon his request to speak somewhere more private, the both of you decided on the benches at the nearby park. Strolling past an advertisement-filled bulletin board, you stopped in your tracks. Back then, the two of you often tried novel activities together, signing up for random classes that you both were new to, from advertisements like those on the bulletin board or online. You scanned the bulletin board, mentally noting the activities the two of you have participated in together before. Kuroo observed your scrutiny and began browsing the bulletin board too.

“Say, we’ve never signed up for couple yoga classes before, did we?” You questioned while peering at the poster. Kuroo followed your gaze to the yoga class poster, “Couple yoga classes?” He contemplated for a while before answering, “Don’t think so.”

As you reminisced the past, a wistful smile formed on your face. “Do you still remember first time we signed up for one of these classes? When we went kayaking?”

“And capsized because you were moving about too much? I don’t think I’ll ever forget that.” He teasingly grinned.

“Hey, it was my first time alright! Sports may not be my thing, but I also recall someone making a crooked vase in pottery class…” It was your turn to tease him. Embarrassed by the recollection of his failed flower vase, Kuroo cleared his throat and defended, “I guess everyone has their strengths and weaknesses…”

At his excuse, you could no longer hold your laughter back at how silly the both of you were being. Following your burst of laugh, Kuroo guffawed as well. Reflecting back on all the activities the two of you did reminded both of you of the times when you two were still together. Nostalgia overcame the two of you and the laughter died down slowly. The fond memories filled both of your minds and now, you both just wished things could go back to how it was before.

Kuroo took another glance at the yoga poster. “Build intimacy and trust while working out with your partner…” He read off the advertisement, “Sound interesting, doesn’t it? Maybe we should try it some time.” He casually suggested, eyes still glued to the poster.

Thinking it was a joke, you laughed and retorted, “Yeah, no. It’s exclusively for couples, see?” You pointed to the subtitles of the poster and continued, “I’m guessing the poses would be too intimate for non-couples. If we go together, they’re going to think we’re dating.”

Kuroo redirected his gaze from the poster to you and positioned himself to lean his back against the board, cocking his head to your direction. “Well, are you dating someone else right now?” He questioned as naturally as he could while attempting to hide the hopes he was holding onto. Averting his gaze, you hesitantly answered, “No… but still–”

“Then why not?”

You blinked before staring blankly at Kuroo, startled by his unexpected reply, “Wha–” But before you could respond, he cut you off again, “Shall we date again?”

You fell silent. Deep inside, you longed for it. You were dying to say ‘yes’ and return to the carefree days when the two of you were together. However, you were unsure if he was joking and did not want to get your hopes high for nothing.

“Stop messing around…” You managed to muster despite your wavering heart. Kuroo pushed himself off the wall and turned your body to face him, prompting you to look at him. “I’m not kidding.” He muttered, eyes softening slightly as he locked gaze with you. With a serious expression, he repeated, “Let’s date again, Y/N. That’s what I wanted to talk about.”

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destiniesfic · 4 years ago

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132 Hours, Chapter 10

It is not better in the morning.

Read chapter 10 on AO3 or read below (but be warned, there’s mature content in this one):

Once again, it’s hard to sleep. I dream of kissing Cardan, who is actually Locke, and I am wearing Taryn’s pink prom dress. And that’s the tamest of them; I have more graphic nightmares that I won’t recount here, except to say that they are awful. Every time I wake up I am either too hot or too cold. I eventually decide I am most comfortable with one leg pushed outside of the blankets and fall into a light doze.

About two hours into my botched attempt at sleeping, I awaken to some odd noises and realize that Cardan is also awake. A moment later, I realize he must think I am still asleep, because when I look over at him there can be no other explanation for what he is doing.

As before, he is in slightly sharper focus than everything else in the room. I thought I’d find him lying down, but he is sitting up with his back against the wall, and his head is bowed forward. He is definitely trying to be quiet, but it is very clear to me from his weird breathing and the sound of skin on skin and the movement of his hand what is going on.

I shouldn’t watch. I know I shouldn’t. But I woke up turned on my side toward him and I can’t turn over or he might realize I’m awake. I can’t even imagine what would happen then. Would he stop? Would he come over? Would I invite him over? I don’t know which possibility terrifies me more.

His breathing grows more labored and he brings his free hand up to his mouth to muffle the sounds that fall out of it. I hate the way my heartbeat skips at every one, the way every muscle in my body clenches with want, with need. I stay quiet, though, watching with hungry curiosity as he curls over himself and makes a strangled sound, almost but not entirely swallowed up by his palm. His shoulders shake.

When it’s over—and I am marveling at how I just watched him jerk off—he sighs, a long, exhausted sigh that somehow really endears him to me. I want to crawl over to him and nuzzle at his neck. I want to drape my body over his body so we can keep each other warm. I want to lick his hand clean, a thought that I recoil from even as I have it. That can’t possibly taste good, and yet—

“Ah, shit,” he whispers. He’s looking down at his hand, and my delusional omega brain wonders if I should go offer to lick it. But then he pulls off one of his already dirty socks and uses that. He got a shower today, but being stuck in a dirty room the size of my stepmother’s walk-in closet negates that fast. Honestly, after being stuck down here for days, I’m not sure we’ll ever be clean again.

Cardan’s head falls back against the wall. His clean hand grabs for something at his side, and when he presses it to his face, I realize it’s my sweatshirt. He exhales again, and it must be my imagination, but it sounds suspiciously like my name. He takes a few, deep breaths, then puts it back down and curls up on his side, using it as a pillow.

I feel like I have been holding my breath this entire time, but I keep holding it a little longer, just in case. There is a pulsing, demanding heat in me, concentrated between my thighs, but, as I always do, I push it to the side. I curl my knees to my chest, and hope it will be better in the morning.

---

It is not better in the morning.

When I open my eyes, it is to the migraine that threatened me yesterday finally breaking, like someone’s jammed a railroad spike into my left eye. The fever is roaring, too, and I pull my leg back inside the blankets and wrap myself up tight, but my shivering doesn’t stop. My muscles have acquired a dull ache that makes me think they’d be bruised if I could peel my skin back and look.

I think I half-expected to find that Cardan had crawled on top of me in his sleep. Then I would wake up, then he would do it, and it would be an awkward thing to work around while kidnapped but at least the worst of my symptoms would abate. But Cardan is still by his corner where I’d seen him fall asleep last night, except now he’s curled up in a ball around my sweatshirt. So there would be no morning hump session, which is good, because I am not yet at the point where that seems more alluring than scary, awkward, intimidating.

My mouth is dry, and I turn over to reach for the water bottle, but it is empty. When had it emptied? Did I empty it?

“Cardan,” I whisper. That’s all it takes to jolt him out of sleep. He sits up, and rubs his eyes, which then widen when he looks at me so I must look really terrible.

“Shit,” he says again, which brings back echoes of him saying it in the night, which just makes my entire body seize up because he’d been jerking off—over me? or over the situation?—and there was an increasingly urgent part of my brain wondering why he’d had his dick in his hand when he could have put it in me. And then, ow, a cramp on top of everything else. As if everything else weren’t enough.

I paw for the pills the Bomb left me and swallow them dry, hoping for some relief from the headache, even though it won’t be immediate. Then I start to push up to my hands and knees.

“No, no,” says Cardan, shoving out a hand but not coming any closer. “No, you just— just wait, I’ll get them. I’ll get you more water.”

“I can do it,” I insist, but it’s taken so much effort just to get this far up and I’m trembling holding myself in place.

“Jude, you look—” He trails off and shakes his head. It must really be that bad. I want to tell him he doesn’t look much better. The circles under Cardan’s eyes have deepened, and he’s already sweating so much that his curls cling to his forehead. But he just sets his mouth in a line and says, “Let me do it.”

In almost any other circumstance I would hate being bossed around by him, but I just flop onto my belly and groan, “Fine.”

Cardan, however, is wired. He must feel as jagged and sleep-deprived as I do, but I can see the extra jittery energy in his every step. I did make that joke about thrusting, but what happens when you box an alpha in rut in a basement with no outlet? Where does that energy go?

Apparently into his fist, because when he pounds on the door it’s so loud that I nearly jump off the mattress. My head throbs. “Hey!” he calls. “Jude needs water!”

There is no answer for a solid thirty seconds. When Cardan glances at me, I am frowning. “They’re usually right outside,” I say, and my stomach plummets at the thought that we’ve been locked in here and just left with no food or water.

“They’re coming,” Cardan replies, probably to reassure himself. He bangs on the door again, this time with even more urgency. “Hey!”

A few seconds later the door opens, and it is not the Bomb standing there, but the Ghost, dressed in black, his face an inscrutable mask. “Alright, I heard you.”

Cardan takes a half-step back from the door, toward me. I pull the blankets tighter around myself and flatten my back against the wall. This was the outcome we had worried about. Everything Cardan had said and done yesterday was to keep our captors out, and especially to keep the Ghost away from me.

“You need to leave,” Cardan snarls, his hands balling into fists at his sides. I am surprised at the ferocity in his voice. I’ve seen him angry. I’ve seen him hurt people with a shove or a cruel word. I have never seen him like this.

But the Ghost is unimpressed. Probably because if it came down to a fight between the two of them, he would definitely win, even though Cardan has more muscle. “You can relax,” the Ghost says. “I’m a beta.”

Cardan blinks, and so do I. But then his eyes narrow. “How do I know you’re telling the truth?”

The Ghost sighs. “Ask your girlfriend if I smell like anything. Her receptors are on overdrive. Even maskers wouldn’t help.”

I expect Cardan to protest that I’m not his girlfriend, and I’m about to open my mouth to say he isn’t my boyfriend, when he looks at me and asks, softly, “Jude?”

The urge to deny anything is knocked right out of me, and I inhale, concentrating. It’s difficult to get anything beyond Cardan’s scent and mine, both of which hang heavy in the stagnant air, but I do pick out something. I look up at Cardan. “Just hand soap. He smells like hand soap.”

Cardan looks skeptical.

“I’m less of a danger to her than you are in this state,” the Ghost says. “I can help her out of the room. Let me.”

In this state. He has to know, then. Uneasily, Cardan moves aside to let the Ghost into the room, tracking him as he walks over and crouches at my side. The Ghost presses a cool hand to my forehead while looking at my sweaty, tangled hair.

“Why didn’t you say you’re a beta?” I ask, shivering.

“Wasn’t relevant. When did you last take medicine?”

“A few minutes ago. What about the Roach and the Bomb?”

“Do you introduce yourself to people by telling them you’re an omega?” It’s a rhetorical question, because he then says, “We have to get you into the shower. I’ll help you up.”

I nod. I know what I look like and what I smell like, and I am not so proud that I won’t accept his help.

“Hey,” Cardan begins, when the Ghost reaches out to put an arm around my shoulder, but I give him a look and he doesn’t say anything else, although the set of his jaw tells me he’s unhappy. He crosses his arms.

“Cardan,” the Ghost says, “can you go turn the water on for her? The old heater takes a while to get started. Make it warm to start, not hot. She can turn it up if she needs to.”

“Right,” Cardan says, and over the Ghost’s shoulder I see him nod and leave.

“He listened to you,” I marvel as the Ghost peels the blankets from my body and helps me to my feet. I should feel more self-conscious that I’m wearing only a tank top and underwear and my thighs are definitely crusty with residue, but he isn’t making a big deal of it, so neither am I. Besides, between my shaky legs and my bad ankle, I am a little distracted by the effort of not toppling over.

“Alphas. Temperamental, but they like to feel like they’re doing something.” It seems like a joke, but he doesn’t smile when he says it. He supports my weight easily, and with his help I hobble out of the room.

“You really don’t smell like much,” I inform him. “It’s weird.”

“I’m used to it.”

“Right.” Mentally, I kick myself. And the Ghost doesn’t say anything else, so I don’t either.

As he helps me across the little room, I am very conscious of my body pressed against his and his arm around my shoulder. My hormonal brain, ecstatic that I am being touched, is swimming, trying to tell me I am attracted to him. Am I attracted to him? I mean, I think he’s handsome, objectively. Should I have sex with the Ghost? I probably shouldn’t have sex with the Ghost.

But, of course, those images are provided to me unbidden because the omega part of me is ecstatic that I am willing to actually entertain my horniness. What if the Ghost helped me into the shower and he stayed there with me? And Cardan also stayed? And then what? My rational brain scolds. I don’t know anything about the logistics of having a threesome in a shower. It seems like an easy way to get more injured than I already am.

And while having sex with the Ghost would be simpler from an emotional standpoint because I barely know him, he is a beta, so it would not actually solve any of my current, heat-related problems. Also, Cardan would be sad.

Do I care that Cardan would be sad? That’s an uncomfortable thought.

“Oh, thank god,” I say, when we finally reach the bathroom and I see Cardan pacing back and forth in the little hallway and hear the shower stream hitting the old yellow tile in the bathroom. I can’t wait to be clean. I can’t wait for these heat-induced intrusive thoughts to go away either, but unfortunately that’ll take a little longer.

“Do you need any help getting undressed?” the Ghost asks, in a tone so dispassionate that even my omega hindbrain wilts at how obviously uninterested he is.

“I think I can manage,” I say, mostly because I can, but also because Cardan looks like he’s on the verge of tearing the Ghost’s throat out, and I still think the Ghost would win that fight but I’m suddenly not sure. We’ll all be glad when this is over.

So I limp into the bathroom, close and lock the door behind me, and tear off my sweat-soaked tank top and my underwear. Instead of standing in the shower, I grab the soap and sit right down, not caring if the floor is gross. I nearly start crying when the water hits my skin, and am almost surprised it doesn’t start steaming around me. It feels cool, so I turn it up a little until I’m comfortable. Then I begin scrubbing myself all over.

It takes a long time before I feel clean. My body still reacts to the lingering traces of Cardan’s scent that cling to my skin and hair. But I discover that someone’s stocked the shower with a set of floral shampoo and conditioner that claims to be “scent-dampening.” Small text on the back advises that they “may have diminished effect during periods of heat or rut,” but I pour a good third of the bottles out into my hands and wash and condition my hair, detangling it with my fingers. I wash my pubic hair, too, just in case it’ll help.

When I step out of the shower, feeling much better, I eye my gross clothes and dread putting them back on. But on the closed toilet, neatly folded, someone has left me an alternative: one of those loose maxi dresses you can find hanging on a rack in the back of a Walgreens, for cheap. I pull it over my head; it’s olive green, and too long, but it fits okay otherwise. There are also some soft black shorts, which I put on under the dress. There’s no replacement for my underwear, so I wash it in the sink, wringing it out as best I can, and leave it to hang dry on the towel bar.

When I step out, Cardan, who has now taken to pacing the main area with his head bowed sulkily forward, perks up. “Hey,” he says. “You look… wow, a lot better. Your scent’s— you’re better.” His nose wrinkles. “The shampoo’s a little weird, though.”

“Not a fan of lavender?”

“It just doesn’t really…” He gestures vaguely. “...like, go with you. It’s the opposite of what you are.”

I limp over to an empty chair and ease myself into it. Because I am so tired that my filter is totally worn away, I ask, “What do I smell like to you, anyway?”

“It’s…” He stuffs his hands in his pockets and fidgets. I notice his feet are still bare, and nearly blush, remembering what had happened to his sock. “It’s hard to explain. I mean, I probably smell like a lot of things at once to you, too, right?”

I nod. “But if you had to choose,” I press, and brace myself, trying to anticipate the worst thing he could say. Methane gas, rotten fish, a dump?

“Cinnamon, I guess,” Cardan admits.

“What?” I sit forward in my chair. “You hate the smell of cinnamon?”

“No, I.” He looks flustered, but tries to channel it back into haughty and irritable. “Don’t be stupid. I’m going to go shower.”

“But—” I begin, perplexed, but Cardan has already disappeared.

The Ghost, who had been leaning silently against the wall, pushes off of it to approach me. “I should change your bandages,” he says, crouching down to expect them. I open my mouth, but he anticipates me and looks up, adding, “I know you have questions, but I’m only going through this once. Better wait until Cardan gets back.”

I press my lips into a thin line. I can be patient when it’s important, but I am feeling frayed right now. As he is re-wrapping my leg, I blurt out, “How do you know what to do if you’re a beta?”

“What, with your leg?”

“No, with—” I look down at him and find him raising his eyebrows. He had been joking. I sit back in my chair, pouting.

“My dad was an omega,” he explains. “My mom was an alpha. I saw all sides of it growing up, even if I didn’t go through it. Three days every few months I’d be on my own.”

“Was that hard?”

“It was what it was.” He gives me another look. “Now wait.”

I scowl at him. “Can I have a mandarin?”

Maybe happy not to be talking, he gets up to get one from a bag slumped on top of the mini-fridge. I catch it when he tosses it to me, and alternate between picking at it and taking sips from a fresh water bottle until Cardan emerges from the shower, damp and cleansed of sweat. He sits down across from me, and I scrunch up my nose. Lavender doesn’t really suit him either.

“I told Jude I’d only go through this once,” says the Ghost, who seems happier to remain standing. “But I think I can guess your first question. Yes, we all knew what was going on. Pretty much from the get-go. We didn’t say anything because you guys were being cagey for some reason, but we figured we could get you the supplies you needed anyway, no harm done. I only said something because I’m the only one here, and Cardan wasn’t going to give me access otherwise.”

Cardan shifts. I ask, “Why are you the only one here?”

The Ghost blinks at me. That wasn’t the follow-up he was expecting. “The Bomb and the Roach were called away.” He shrugs. “Might be good news, might be bad. Hard to say. They figured I could handle things alone while you were in heat. It’s not like either of you are in a state to go anywhere.”

“So, what, you’re all betas?” Cardan asks, cutting me off before I can follow up.

“Yes.”

He frowns. “We thought you were using maskers.”

“It wasn’t a bad assumption,” the Ghost says. “People in our line of work often do, so we can’t be traced by scent. Betas make good spies, too. Any profession that requires stealth.”

I hadn’t thought about that, but it makes sense. “So were you recruited because you were a beta, or…” My stomach sinks as I consider another possibility. “You were all, like, born… nobody made you this way, right?”

The Ghost hesitates, then says, “I was, yes. The others’ stories aren’t mine to tell.”

Cardan gawps at me. “You’re thinking they were… what, de-designated? Why? To make them better at… crime?”

I shudder. Forcible de-designations were categorized as human rights violations by the United Nations in the early 1970s after certain unethical human experiments came to light. Sure, there are de-designation therapies out there for people whose designations cause extreme dysphoria or health complications, but they take months. The forcible de-designations are quick, and brutal, and painful, and if the subject survives the physical complications, they might not survive the psychological.

“I hope not,” I say, quietly, telling myself that my discomfort is brought around by the idea of anyone suffering such a painful ordeal, not because I like our abductors. I change the subject. “But you were recruited?”

“Yes.”

Man of few words. I hug my arms around my stomach. “Must be nice.”

“The job opportunities or being a beta?”

“Not having to deal with…” I peel one hand away from my abdomen and gesture vaguely.

“No, I don’t envy that.” The Ghost looks between us. “Although I do sometimes wonder what I’m missing out on.”

I glance at Cardan, who, to my surprise, actually looks angry. “If you had fresh clothes for Jude the whole time, why didn’t you give them to her?” he demands. “Why didn’t anybody stay with her? She was stuck in her gross clothes and she was alone, all day.”

Again, the Ghost looks slightly taken aback, although he smooths his face into his usual inscrutable mask in an instant. “The Bomb got these for her yesterday, but she was curled up in her nest and we didn’t know if she’d want to move or be bothered.”

“My nest?” I frown. “No, that’s not right. I don’t have a—”

“It’s a sad nest, but you did pile all the bedding in the room up in one corner.”

“No, that wasn’t—I mean, I didn’t—” I look at Cardan in horror, as he is the one who put all the blankets and pillows on me, but he is looking away from me. I shake my head, and some wet hair falls into my face. “It’s okay that I was alone. I think it was better. Don’t worry about it.”

I feel the Ghost watching me closely, and shift in my seat. “It’s not shameful, what’s happening to you,” he says at last. “Plenty of people go through it all the time.”

“Not you,” I retort.

“Maybe not, but I’ve been around long enough and seen enough to know there are upsides to being an omega.”

“Oh, yeah?” I ask. “Like what?”

The Ghost’s eyebrows shoot up. “You want me to tell you?”

“Yeah.” I glance at Cardan, who’s slouching in his chair and pretending to ignore both of us. “Tell me how my life doesn’t totally suck right now.”

He looks at me, then at Cardan, then says, “I guess I don’t have anything better to do.”

#jurdan #judecardan #jude x cardan #jurdan fanfic #jude duarte #cardan greenbriar #tfota #the cruel prince #the wicked king #the queen of nothing #the folk of the air #mine: fic #fic: 132 hours

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sserpente · 5 years ago

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A/N: May the Forth be with you, my lovelies! Kylo isn’t exactly nice in this one and I have no idea why it got so dark. Definitely no fluff. Well. Dark side and cookies and stuff. 🍪 Requests from @mitsuhkai (I changed it up just a tiny little bit so it made sense for the story) and two anons.

Words: 3989 Warnings: violence, abuse (somewhat) and lack of aftercare, smut, angst

“Can I get you anything? Some water? Food?”

You shook your head mutely, hugging yourself in an attempt to stay warm. It was the adrenaline in your veins that was slowly wearing off. You wanted nothing. Nothing but to go home—you did not want to be in the middle of a war.

“I’ll go get you a blanket.” His name was Poe Dameron. He was nice—considerate. He had been among the group that had saved you before the planet evaporated, turned into a pile of dust floating in the galaxy. You had known it would happen sooner or later. Living in this place had been worse than trading garbage on Jakku. Now, at long last, someone had taken revenge. You only wished it could have happened without countless innocent lives being taken. You had been lucky to survive and now you wanted nothing more than to find your way back to your own home planet.

“So… who are they?” You asked with a quiet and exhausted voice when Poe returned, wrapping a dark red wool blanket around you. “The people who blew up the planet?”

“You really don’t know?”

You shook your head.

“They call themselves the First Order. They are a radical group aiming to bring the entire galaxy under their control. Their leader is called Kylo Ren, he is… was Leia’s son.”

Your lips parted. You had met Leia earlier. You could hardly believe she was fighting her own flesh and blood.

“How… how would they accomplish that? Rule everything? That is impossible.” And ridiculous, you added mutely. This entire war was ridiculous. You wanted to go home so bad it physically ached.

“He is looking for force-sensitives. The more of them he succeeds in pulling to the dark side, the more dangerous the First Order gets for us. We are looking for them too, we’re bringing them to Leia before he can find them.”

“When can I go home?”

Poe smiled weakly. “Soon. We needed a device that is called a wayfinder. It will take you and the other survivors straight to your home planet.” It was lightyears away—in a world where Kylo Ren, the First Order and the Resistance did not exist. A world where the Force was but a peaceful companion to those who wielded it. Nothing was just black and white but at least, no one had started a war over control and power.

“Poe! They’re here.” It was a young woman, a redhead with blue eyes. Undoubtedly another member of the Resistance. A blaster was dangling from her brown belt. She was carrying a tiny black box.

“What?!” The pilot jumped up from his seat opposite you, alarmed and ready to attack. “How many ships?”

“Just one, Poe. Look at us. There’s only a handful of us left. I don’t think they came to kill us. Leia said they are searching for the wayfinder too.”

The wayfinder you need to get home. Your face fell as it went white, just when the redhead turned to you.

“Will you stay here and watch this?” She said, holding up the box. “We can barricade the doors to give you as much protection as possible.”

With an eager nod, you took it, the blanket sliding from your shoulders and to the ground. If necessary, you would protect this wayfinder—however it worked—with your life if only it meant you would be home again soon. You should have never left in the first place, looking for adventure. It seemed so absurd to you for now, adventure had found you.

Poe and his friend left, the metal doors sliding shut, locked. If you didn’t know better, it would have felt like being trapped. Nothing prepared you for when the ship you were on was shook by some massive impact and sent its construction shattering to pieces. You screamed when the room began to collapse in on itself, a large chunk of debris burying you underneath it. The box fell from your grasp in but a second, clattering to the ground a few feet away from you.

Panting, you came up for fresh air, coughing when you accidentally inhaled the dust practically steaming up from the broken furniture like moist fog. Your right leg was jammed. You winced when you looked down and attempted to pull yourself free only to draw blood scraping against the sharp end of whatever kept you glued to the ground. It hurt. Overwhelmed by the burning pain, you lied back down, taking a deep breath.

It was then somebody entered whatever was left of this control room full of panels and buttons broken beyond repair now—your breath caught in your throat. A tall figure, male judging by his frame, wearing a black cloak and a terrifying mask scanned the destruction around him with clenched fists. Your eyes widened. A lightsaber was dangling from his black belt. Was this Kylo Ren?

He strutted further into the room, his gaze—entirely hidden by the mask—presumably catching sight of the small box. Your heart skipped a beat, unsure of what was more horrifying. Being alone with a very dangerous man who sought to control the galaxy or the fact he was about to steal from you the only way to return home. He had not noticed you yet. It was likely that to him, you were no more than an unconscious body, a victim of his triumph over the Resistance. Right until your instinct sealed your fate forever.

“No!” You screamed when his gloved fingers reached for the box, stretching your arm out in a desperate attempt to prevent him from bringing it into his possession, willing it to be flung out of his reach—when suddenly, the box bid your will. It practically flew away from him, landing on the ground and slithering across the metal tiles. In shock, you looked down at your shaking hands. What had you done? Was this… had you used the Force?

Kylo Ren’s head turned in your direction so fast your blood ran cold. Breathing heavily, you gaped at his expressionless mask, struggling to break free from your prison of debris. The throbbing pain in your leg was still excruciating and yet you could not even begin with comparing it to the ice cold fear washing over your helpless form on the ground when he stood, tilted his head slightly and marched over to you. You could already feel the heat of his lightsaber singeing your skin, the hot blade slashing through your guts, killing you fast.

A strike which would spell doom for you, however, never came. Instead, when you dared look up at him again, Kylo Ren was offering you his hand. He was using the Force to move the metal from your leg, finally freeing it and providing you instant relief. Carefully, you moved your ankle. It hurt—but nothing appeared to be broken.

“(Y/N)!” The last thing you remembered was falling unconscious, right into somebody’s arms.

The room in which you awoke was dark and intimidating. Another ship, you figured. More panels, more metal, this room, however, resembled a medical station. Drowsily, you sat up to find a handful of droids moving back and forth on wheels. Your leg had been bandaged.

“Ah, Miss. You are awake. We will alert the Supreme Leader at once.” You flinched when one of them addressed you, its silver body reflecting the dim light.

“No, wait!” But the droid was already wandering off. Where were you? What was happening? What had happened already? You remembered using the Force. The Force! This was impossible. Another flinch when the metal doors slid open and revealed lights coming from the hallway. You shielded yourself from the sudden brightness—and it was then you discovered the blaster on a shelf next to a white helmet. It must have belonged to one of their soldiers and been deposited here during his treatment. Without any hesitation, you took it. You had been defenceless the first time you had met the First Order. You would not be so again now.

Kylo Ren’s gloved fists were clenched again when he entered the medical station, straight towards you. He had offered you his hand… but for what? Surely, he was hostile! You did not think. All you did was aim at him. Next thing you knew you were already being flung through the air, smashing against the wall. You sank to the ground with a groan. Wherever the blaster had landed, it was now out of your reach.

“What do you want from me?” You screamed at him before you could even see him. Kylo Ren did not utter a word until he was hovering above you like a giant, forcing you to tilt your head back to face his mask. “I’m not with the Resistance!” You continued helplessly. “If that is why you took me you might as well let me go again!”

“Let you go?” He finally spoke a little amused, sending a shiver down your spine. His voice was being modulated behind that mask. You swallowed thickly. “I don’t think so. You are force-sensitive. I am not letting one of the most powerful individuals off of my ship.”

It occurred to you only then. Force-sensitive. If you had truly used the Force and Kylo Ren had seen it, you were done for. The dark side… well, you didn’t even know that the light side was all about!

You snorted indignantly. “Powerful? I… I didn’t even get to pull the trigger before you threw me against the wall, which hurt by the way!”

“You tried to shoot me.” He stated matter-of-factly, bending down further to study your face.

“Well… how would you feel if a man in a mask and that… that lightsaber started at you like a berserker?”

Kylo simply ignored your protest. “I will train you. You will learn to control your powers, and use them.”

Desperately, you shook your head. “No. Please, just let me go home. I don’t want to be part of any of this.” You paused. “What happened to Poe?” He had yelled your name before you passed out, you remembered this much. It had been his voice.

“Poe Dameron, the Resistance pilot? I have no idea. I will not let you go. You need a teacher.”

“I don’t need anything except for that wayfinder.”

Kylo coldly ignored you. “The droids will show you to your new living quarters.” And just like that, he stood again, turned on his heel and left you.

The living quarters Kylo Ren had provided you with were impressive, to say the least—or perhaps you were merely used to worse back on your home planet. They were spacious, equipped with a double bed and your own attached washing room. If only you were here by your own free will.

Nearly two months had passed since your arrival on the Finalizer and you had no idea where Kylo had hidden the wayfinder. He was intimidating you for sure but over the last weeks… something had changed.

First off, he had showed you his face. Then, he had showed you emotions.

Focused, you brought your stick—a lame excuse for a weapon, for Ren did not trust you with a real lightsaber just yet—against the Stormtrooper armour before you, swirling around in a lightheaded manner. You were a natural. He would never admit it but he admired the way you fought, watching you in awe, hands clasped behind his back. You made it look like art. Your body was passionate—only your mind was not. He could feel it. You were shielding yourself from the Force even after all of his endeavours and to be truly honest, it was driving him crazy.

“You could be so much stronger. You should have smashed that dummy to pieces by now. You are hardly using any of what I have taught you.” His words stung all the more without the modulation of his mask. You sighed. “You are weak.”

“I am not weak.” You spat, glaring at him with dismay and disappointment. What did he expect? You had never wanted this. The fact you were starting to develop feelings for him did not help. Kylo Ren was not the monster the Resistance had made him out to be—not to you. Besides, he was still here as opposed to them. Were they even trying to find you? Had they given up on you, would they risk for you to become a Sith?

Well, you did not want to become a Sith, or a Jedi. Kylo had forced you into the middle of a war that was not yours to fight. He did not see it. He did not want to see it.

“Yes, you are.”

You growled. “Well, have you ever considered why?! You would have killed me had I refused to become your stupid student!”

Kylo’s eye twitched. He did not object—of course not. It was the truth. The only reason you stayed with him was that you had no one else left. So far away from home, you were alone. Kylo Ren was the only one who took care of you, albeit in his very own way. You should despise him for making you so dependent on him.

Blinking away the tears in your eyes, you dropped the stupid stick and fled out of the room. You knew the ship well by now and as long as you were as far away from him as possible, you would be content with sulking away in a quiet corner where nobody could see you, to take some time wrangling with your own emotions.

What were you even doing here? You should have done anything in your power to flee, steal a ship or an emergency capsule. Instead, you had let him web you into his schemes like a spider its dinner. Why did part of him have to be so… human? So vulnerable even? It made despising him all the harder.

Sobbing quietly, you wiped your tears away. But it was only then you realised that you were not alone anymore. Somebody was watching you. Great. From smoke to smother. It was Hux. The General had a thing for you. At first, you had been certain he only meant to provoke Kylo here and then but there seemed to be more, much more. He was usually there first whenever the two of you fought and you ran from him, almost as if he was downright waiting for you to argue so he could be your shoulder to lean on. At least that felt nice from time to time.

“Did he hurt you?” When you said nothing, Hux pressed his lips together to a thin line. Well yes, all the time. It felt like being in an abusive relationship when in reality, you hadn’t even kissed. Not that you wouldn’t want to. Kylo was a handsome man, you… growling, you stopped your thoughts from escalating.

“You deserve better, (Y/N). Unlike him, I would treat you with respect.” You smiled bitterly. You liked his accent. Everything he said sounded so graceful and yet… Hux would never be more to you than another good-looking and powerful man with a passion for the First Order. “If you truly think that, find me that wayfinder. I want to go home.”

He was taken aback, without a doubt. Blinking, he took a moment to reply.

“You are not leaving this ship, (Y/N).”

You snorted. “Of course not…”

Silence spread between you. Hux was not one for showing a lot of emotion—yet you tensed when his hand came up in a hesitant attempt to touch you and provide comfort.

“Is there a problem, General?” Kylo’s voice, without the helmet this time, buzzed through your ears like the bass of a guitar. You closed your eyes. Here we go—acting like a jealous boyfriend after a dramatic breakup.

Hux gulped. He was afraid of him now that Kylo was the Supreme Leader, ever since he almost choked him to death. You scoffed. His cowardice was one of the reasons you two could never work out. Kylo Ren on the other hand… no, stop.

He spoke up before Hux was out of sight, hurrying away with a murderous expression on his face. “If you ever speak to him again, I will make you regret it.”

“Excuse me? He is the General, what do you expect me to do, ignore him?”

“He has no authority over you. The only one you will take orders from is me.”

“I beg to differ.”

Kylo’s head snapped in your direction so fast you almost flinched. Now you had made him angry. He hated it when you questioned his abilities as a leader.

“What are you doing?” You spat. “You’ve said enough. I’m done.”

“Get back to the training room.”

“No! Did you listen to a word I just said? You just don’t get it, do you? I will never be as determined as you because I don’t care! I don’t care about the Force, I don’t care about this stupid war and I hate you! I bloody hate you!” You did not hate him but you ought to. That was the problem. You were not even in a relationship. The Stormtroopers as well as every other damned employee on this godforsaken ship all shared their theories, of course… but they were all lies, nonsense. So why did it feel like you were breaking up? Was it because he was providing for you when no one else did all the while forbidding you to leave his custody?

“Good! Let your anger out finally! Let it consume you! I know you can feel the Force pulsing through your veins, I can feel it pulsing inside of you!” He hissed, a few drops of his saliva landing on your face.

Screaming bloody murder, you lunged at him, determined to thrash him with the only weapon you had—in this case, your bare fists. You were too caught up in your rage to realise you actually hit him repeatedly until he waved his hand and snatched your wrists to immobilise you, pressing you against the metal column. You grunted in pain as it shot up your spine, pairing with hot desire pulsing through your veins.

You knew the moment his lips came crashing down on yours and your force-sensitivity melted together like molten silver and gold, cracking the pillar he had smashed you against that he had defeated you. His gloved fingers were forcing their way under your skirt, tearing your underwear in two only to elicit an indignant scream from you. His only response was his tongue sliding into your mouth and claiming it for a passionate kiss knocking all air from your lungs yet again. The pain in your back had subsided to a dull throbbing by the time he had freed his already hard cock from layers and layers of dark fabric, the pink tip leaking precum pressing against your bare folds and his lips still devouring yours in a most dominant manner.

Your own body was betraying you, arousal running down your inner thighs and staining his black coat as he bucked his hips and lifted you up effortlessly, making you feel tiny and fragile in his grasp. There would have been no time to protest even if you had wanted to, the most depraved parts of your mind struggling against the rational one as he sheathed himself deep inside of you without a warning and began thrusting into you frantically without granting you even a chance of getting used to his intrusion, or his girth.

Finally, Kylo released your mouth and instead tended to your neck. He was nibbling on your sensitive skin gently first before sinking his teeth into your flesh so hard he drew blood and you screamed, digging your fingernails into his clothed shoulders as he rutted into you like a wild wolf whose mind had been taken by rabies.

Perhaps he had. Perhaps he had forgotten in this very moment that he was your master and that you were his apprentice and he would instead realise that he couldn’t cage you like a female lioness just waiting to scratch her captors’ eyes out.

But against all reason, having him fuck you against the metal pillar felt amazing, liberating even—almost as if all the aggressive tension between had finally found a vent to escape through and make mindless prey out of you—prey which enjoyed being taken thoroughly by him.

Kylo growled, picking up his pace. His cock grazed your g-spot with every powerful thrust, making your eyes roll to the back of your head. It was not quite enough to toss you over that delicious edge taking your thoughts miles away from the Finalizer, if only for a few moments; and yet you moaned when he retreated almost entirely and pumped into you one last time, as deep as he possibly could, to fill you up with his warm seed. You could feel ropes of his cum like an endless stream coating your tight walls as he throbbed and pulsed, riding out his orgasm all the while you fought back your tears of exhaustion… and disappointment.

No emotion, no love. Passion, maybe, though not the kind you were so desperate for.

Kylo Ren might have needed you—but not in the way you needed him. You gasped when he pulled out, the proof of his strong climax slowly dribbling down your naked thighs. Without a single word but shaking digits nonetheless, he tucked his softening member back into his black trousers and watched you lean against the pillar in fear your knees would cease to support you.

“I’m leaving.” You said breathlessly, a wet stream of hot tears rolling down your cheeks and worsening your sight.

He scoffed in response. “You’re dismissed for the night. Get some rest for tomorrow. I want to see if your technique has improved.”

In his very own twisted and inexplicable way, he did not want you to leave him. It came to you only then. He could have killed you the moment you had admitted you would never truly commit to the dark side, must have felt it even, your imbalance, your indecisiveness, your lack of ambition and yet… you were still here. You were alive—and just a moment ago, his dick had been inside of you.

“It’s over, Kylo. I said I’m leaving.”

“You’re not leaving.”

“Oh yes, I am.” You retorted bitterly.

“I said you’re not leaving!” His command echoed through the entire hallway, about as loud as his fist colliding with the metal wall next to your head to leave a dent. “You’re mine!” Sparks erupted from it as he yelled, leading to the assumption he had broken some mechanism.

“S-Supreme Leader?”

“What?!” He spun around to face an officer, likely aware of the fact his last hour had struck in this very moment.

“We… we’re under attack. The Resistance, they have—“ An explosion interrupted him, followed by the entire ship shaken by what felt like a merciless earthquake. Kylo gave you a brief look. For just a second, you thought to be seeing remorse in his brown eyes—remorse, along with a silent plead not to leave.

It was gone so fast you regretted considering to miss this chance. Your way out of here. Your way back home, with or without the wayfinder. The Resistance might have abandoned you all those weeks ago but at least, they would pose as your means to escape, for you to return to your life.

“Supreme Leader, please, we need you in the control room now!”

You sobbed—and then you turned around and fled, his hot gaze seemingly burning holes into your back; without looking behind. And just this once, you did not feel the Force stopping you.

A/N: Check out my blog to find more Imagines and take a glimpse at my first (to be) published novel! If you enjoyed this story, I would appreciate so much if you supported me on Kofi! ko-fi.com/sserpente ♥

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itsallabigmess · 4 years ago

Text

Crescente | Part Four

Slow burn Friends to loves AU

Spoilers: there’s a lot of fluff.

PREVIOUS PART | NEXT PART

Somehow, Jinyoung convinced you to go zip-lining the next day. He already had it booked with the hotel by the time you got up. And as much as you liked to see him finally into the trip, you wish he had planned something more relaxing. Like laying on the beach drinking coconut water.

“We won’t need to hike to get there” he reasoned nonchalantly over the breakfast that you insisted on having in one to the resort’s restaurants. “A van will take us there and then bring us back once we are done. Also, there are a few waterfalls in the area, and I figured you would like to visit them.”

The mention of waterfalls almost made you run back to the villa. If only the food in front of you weren’t that good… It was only a couple of hours later that you started to question your decision to say yes. Jumping from a platform and flying through a forest with only a cable to make sure your life would not end sooner than expected didn’t sound so appealing.

A shiver goes down your spine, your eyes widening to the sight of a girl jumping from the platform as soon as you reached the top of the stairs. She screams excitedly, disappearing in between the trees. You felt like throwing up.

This sudden fear you are feeling is completely foreign to you. You are not scared of heights. Never have been. Yet, somehow, all you want to do is ask the instructors what are the odds of you surviving in case the cords snap.

You give a step back and your back crashes gently against Jinyoung’s chest. “Can’t we just go straight to the waterfalls?” you ask quietly over the shoulder, biting your lower lip.

“We can jump together if you want to,” he points at two other girls who are getting ready to jump next, side by side, holding hands. The way the cables bounce once they are flying makes you feel like it would be even worse.

“Okay,” spinning around and press a finger against Jinyoung’s chest. You fill your lungs with air and let out a long sigh. “I’m jumping alone, but I will be the one choosing what we do tomorrow.”

Jinyoung laughs and nods at your poor attempt to not sound terrified. You have seen that kind of smile many times before. Where his eyes almost disappear, and his face gets covered in adorable wrinkles. You love that kind of smile. It almost makes you feel less nervous. Almost.

“Come on,” he turns you around and push you forwards. “It’s our turn.”

With harness and helmet one, you decide to go first. Mostly because you just want it to be over soon. The instructor opens the gate of the platform and tells you what to do: run through it and jump when you reach the edge. When he asks if you are ready, the only thing that comes from your mouth is “I might through up.”

You keep your eyes closed only in the first seconds after jumping. Just until you acknowledge you are not going as fast as you expected. It is still fast. But not a terrifying kind of fast. It turns out, you find it quite nice. How you can see the streams cutting their way through the forest. How you could still see bits of the ocean on the horizon…

Until you make the mistake to look down.

There is no time to make your shaky legs steady. As soon as you arrive at the second platform, you are quickly rushed by another instructor, his hands moving faster to detach from the cable and make you ready for the second round. This one is lasts longer, and the way the cable is inclined makes your stomach comes to your mouth.

Stopping at the third platform, your legs give you just enough time for you to run towards one of the railings, dropping the helmet on your side. You are sure there are some eyes on you, but you don’t care. You just need to remember how to breathe steadily.

Holding to the railing bars as if your life depended on it, you feel someone approaching and kneeling by your side. “Are you okay?” Jinyoung asked, a hand patting your back gently.

“You will have to carry me for the rest of the day,” you grumble, forehead pressed to one of the cold bars. “My legs don’t answer me anymore.”

“Tragic,” Jinyoung snorts, but then you feel his hands under your arms, lifting you up. “Deep breath, Y/N.”

You comply, breathing and out a couple times. Somehow it only makes you feel more lightheaded. And when your legs start to fail again, you feel yourself leaning back into Jinyoung, his arms closing around you. The way his chests vibrates tells you he is silently laughing

“Is this your way of torturing me?” you ask, voice wavery. “Hiking, zip-lining…”

“I promise that never occur to me,” he says close to your ear, “Let’s sit down and find something to drink before we go down the last line.”

“There’s another one?!” you turn around to see where people are lining up and waiting for their turns. You let your shoulders drop and ignore Jinyoung’s little laugh as his hand goes to your lower back, making you walk to the opposite side.

This platform is much bigger than the previous one, you notice. A narrow walkway gives access to a second platform masked as a lounge area, where a few snacks and alcohol-free drinks could be bought and consumed on cushy chairs spread close to the railings.

“Remember when we went to Jackson’s hometown?” Jinyoung lowers himself next to you, two cups in his hands. It takes you a moment to lift your body. Now that your heart is back to its normal rate, you just feel slow. You raise a brow at Jinyoung, taking the cup of juice he offers you. “It was what, six years ago?” he continues, flipping his hair back with his free hand. “There was this lake, really beautiful, where we went in the mornings.”

“Yes?” you take a sip, the cold, sugary drink making you feel better almost immediately.

“There was this high rock where everyone was jumping from. And if I’m not mistaken, you had no trouble doing so.”

“Your point being…?”

“I don’t understand why you are so freaked out with zip-lining.”

“I can’t believe you are comparing jumping into a perfectly safe lake with this near-death experience.”

Jinyoung rolls his eyes. “Not the activity itself but your willingness to do them.”

“I’m here, aren’t I?” You lean further against the cushion on your back. “And you are mistaken.”

“About what?”

“Jackson’s brother was teasing me because everybody was jumping from it and I didn’t want to. And then Jackson noticed that I was getting annoyed and he suggested he could it with me just once so everybody would shut up. But when we were about to jump, I got scared that Jackson would just let go of my hand. So, he made me get on his back and jumped. And then he got a bit upset because I bit his shoulder and it left a mark.”

Jinyoung studies you for long seconds. “I think Jackson’s brother had a crush on you back then.”

“He did. I figured after overhearing Jackson scolding him.”

Wind shakes the trees around you, making a sound you are fondly getting used to. You turn your face to Jinyoung and he is still looking at you. It’s unsettling how he is able to keep his expression unreadable.

“So, you are saying,” he says after a long beat of silence. “That if I want us to do other things like what we are doing today, I might get bitten?”

You roll your eyes, but can’t hide a little smile. “Is that really the only information you took out of what I told you?”

“I’m just want to be sure of the chances of me getting hurt.”

You consider throwing your now empty cup on his head and make the stupid grin on his face disappear but decides against it. “Didn’t you say there was some waterfall around here? I think it’s time we head there.”

---

After a ten-minutes cab ride and a brief stop to buy fruit salad, you two follow the signs leading the way to the so promised waterfall park. It’s already late in the day, and so, differing from the day before, the area is filled with tourists. It doesn’t’ bother you. As soon as you can feel the small drops of the water carried by the wind, you get excited again.

“Not here,” Jinyoung grabs your hand before you can drop your bag on the ground. Despite some protest from your part, you let him lead you. Even if he ignores you every time you ask why he is dragging you into the forest. A few minutes later you understand why.

“How did you know about this place?” you ask, stunned. The waterfall in front of you isn’t as big as the one you had just seen, but it wasn’t any less beautiful.

And you and Jinyoung had it all completely to yourselves.

“I did some research after you fell asleep last night,” Jinyoung said, smugness stamped all over his face. “Not bad, huh?” he elbows your side.

You say nothing, but you are more than impressed.

The hours flew as you swam and took photos and snaked on the rocks without a single soul to disturb you. Jinyoung told you that, for what he read, this little sanctuary is forgotten even by the locals. “People just go to the bigger waterfalls and since there’s no real trail to get here, people forget about it.”

Thank God for that, you think.

The resort sent a car to pick you in the middle of the afternoon, leaving you with enough time to have a late lunch in a village nearby. And as soon as you sat inside the black vehicle, you wondered how spending the day in a place so relaxing could leave you so tired.

“How long until the resort?” you asked Jinyoung.

“Around half an hour.”

“Good, I can take a little nap.”

“As long as you don’t continue to sleep once we get to the villa. We still have something else programmed for today.”

You glance at him, eyes narrowing. “Should I be worried?”

Jinyoung cracks a smile, his right arm going around your shoulders, pulling you closer. His fingers repeat the movements of the previous night, caressing your hair gently. You took it as an invitation to feel comfortable, pulling your legs up over the seat and letting your head fall back against his shoulder.

---

A hostess greets you with a glass of sparkling wine as you board into the catamaran. She directs you to one of the chaise lounges, the only one left unoccupied, and after a few minutes, you start sailing.

“You don’t need to continue to do that, you know,” you say. Jinyoung’s turns to you, his eyes hidden behind his black lenses and hair being brushed back by the wind. “Being all nice and finding things like this for us to do.”

“Apparently I do since you still don’t believe I want to be here,” he retorted. “You never told me, by the way. How did you win this trip?”

You looked at the glass in your hand, the little bubbles popping inside of it. You let some air before saying “I spent 500 bucks on lingerie” fast, finishing the drink right away.

Jinyoung stares at you and then answers with a quiet “Ok.”

You get a little frustrated that he doesn’t tease you or make any snarky comment. “There was this store with a ‘buy our stuff, win a trip for two’ kind of thing and at first I thought it was stupid but then I talked to…” you pause yourself from mentioning your ex. “I changed my mind and I just bought a lot of things that I didn’t necessarily need.”

“Do you like it? The things you bought?”

“I do,” you admit. “Although, after I found out that I won the trip I went back to the store and changed some of the pieces for the pajamas and swimsuits I brought here.”

“You do look great on them,” Jinyoung smiles at you before turning serious. “I’m sorry it didn’t work between you two.”

If you still had anything on your glass, you would probably choke on it. So, you just turn to him, frowning. “Why? You hated him!”

“Yes, but I care about you even when you don’t and make the stupid decision to date a douche.”

Ha! There it was. The type of comment you have been expecting the entire trip. You don’t contain your laugh, happy that you finally have your friend completely back to his natural form.

“Why did you, though?” he continues. “Dating him? It didn’t make any sense.”

“I have no idea,” you shrug. “I guess at that time he was the one idiot that was interested in giving me the kind of attention I was seeking.”

Being single was never a problem for you. But after some time, you just end up missing the intimacy a relationship can bring. And was in a moment like that you met your ex: enjoying happy hour with some coworkers when you were approached by a very handsome guy that was looking at you the way you wanted to be looked at and saying all the right things to make you interested. And then, the months pass and the more intimate you got, you realized he was never that charming to start with.

“Dating for the sake of not being alone never works, Y/N.”

“I agree, but since it was the first and last time I ever got in that kind of a mess, I think I can get a pass,” you grin at him, removing his sunglasses and wearing it yourself. “I broke with him through text. And then dropped anything that I had of him with the receptionist of his work. That’s how much I was over him,” you turn around, waving your empty glass for the hostess to bring some refill.

“I am very proud,” he lifts a hand and you meet his high five, giggling.

The hostess comes to pour more wine on your glasses and serves some appetizers. You feel the boat moving slower through the waters until it reaches the perfect point where you can watch the sky get orange and pink as the sun sets for the day.

“Were you really going to call me?” you look up at Jinyoung. “The day I showed up at your place.”

He nods once. “I wasn’t in the mood to be social just yet. I still don’t believe I am, at least not completely. But I began thinking about you,” Jinyoung smiles softly. “I was wondering if buying your favorite meal would be enough to convince you to come over when you knocked on my door.” He brushes his hair back for the hundredth time. “I just wasn’t expecting to be dragged to the other side of the world.”

“Oh, shut up! You are enjoying yourself,” you nudge his side, your elbow hitting his ribs, making Jinyoung growl.

“That Christmas party,” he continues, eyes fixed in the horizon, “I kept trying to find excuses to pull you outside so we could talk. Nobody knew about us not being together anymore. And if I knew it was really over, I didn’t want to tell anyone yet. Except for you.” He turns his face, on yours. “You are my best friend, Y/N. It felt strange not telling you.”

He never called you that before. Maybe because it was one of those things you never needed to verbalize. Both you and Jinyoung always had this kind of serene connection. It was different from Jackson. Jackson was the friend that would always try to make you laugh and give needed hugs. Jinyoung was the one who would listen to your deep thoughts and help you find logic in them. So you always knew that Jinyoung was your best friend. Hearing you was his too was surprisingly comforting.

And yet, you didn’t know what to say to him. So you faked astonishment. “I thought Jackson was your best friend.”

His lips curl up gently, left arm coming behind you, resting around your shoulders and you lean closer against him. It feels so natural that it takes a minute to process how much this has happened over the past two days. It was so out of character for Jinyoung to be this physically close to you, let alone having his hand on you. Like he has now, his hand moving up and down on your naked arm when the cold breeze starts to give you goosebumps.

You think about mentioning it but stop yourself. It’s been so long since you were touched affectionately by someone who truly cared about you, you don’t want it to stop. Maybe Jinyoung can sense it and that is why he’s acting this way. Maybe he needs it too.

“So, what’s next?” you ask once you are back at the resort’s dock. “And please tell me it includes food cause I’m quite hungry.”

“I haven’t planned anything else so should we go for one of the resort’s restaurants? And maybe finish yesterday’s movie?”

“Can’t we do both at the same time?” you suggest. The day was so good – except for the horrors of zip lining – that you don’t mind giving in to Jinyoung’s need to not be surrounded by people all the time.

And secretly, you wish you could fall asleep with the feeling of him playing with your hair again.

#jinyoung #park jinyoung #got7 #got7 jinyoung #jinyoung scenarios #got7 scenarios

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meat-husband · 5 years ago

Note

Pls more yandere!Vincent

Somehow this is turning into a thing and I’ve got more coming soon lol