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harstyle · 11 months ago

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… I think I love you

Summary: you definitely like Harry, and he may like you, but your insecurities might be preventing you from ever finding out— featuring a friends-with-benefits situation, a heavy dose of self degradation and miscommunication between both characters.

Pairing: normie!reader x famous!harry

Warnings: there’s a lot of crying

Word-count: around 3.2k

a/n: this idea came to me when I saw this couple at a party yesterday and she was sitting in his lap and he was peppering kisses along her neck and I just love love, so here we go (obviously it wouldn’t be fun without at least a little angst tho). I did write this in like an hour and I didn‘t edit, so go easy on me :).

Harry was being weird.

He was touching her all over, pulling her to sit in his lap and peppering kisses along the expanse of her neck, all while keeping his arms circled around her waist. He was resting his chin on her shoulder, staying mostly quiet even though he usually always had something to say. He was stroking her skin, touching wherever he could get through to her winter clothing. He was ignoring all of the strange looks he was receiving from his friends, lips molding into a slight smirk against her skin as they spoke politics and gossip at the table.

Y/N had a horrible feeling in her stomach. It was unusual for Harry to show so much affection around their friends— the two of them had just agreed that their friends didn’t need to see so much of their arrangement. It wasn’t like they were dating, or better yet, in love, so keeping it to themselves seemed like the sensible thing to do. Don’t get her wrong; their friends knew about it, but Y/N and Harry mostly kept the physical aspects in the bedroom for no one to see. He surely had never been so blatant about it.

Her heart was pounding. To be fair, her heart always did that when Harry was around. Y/N had had a crush on Harry since she’d met him years ago, but back then she hadn’t thought she’d have much of a chance with him. Y/N had heard of him dating supermodels, rich girls with a ‘perfect figure’ and scandalous backgrounds and had always kept the idea of a relationship with Harry Styles far far away in the name of self preservation.

But then he’d kissed her.

He’d been drunk when he’d done it, but Y/N hadn’t cared in the slightest. When morning came, Harry had explained that he wasn’t looking for a relationship and that while he thought Y/N was wonderful, he didn’t want anything serious with her.

She’d remembered those words and lived religiously by them.

Only ever calling him when she really needed him, allowing him to knock on her door whenever he felt like fucking her, being okay with acting in the role of little play toy even though she’d always liked him.

And it wasn’t like their arrangement wasn’t mutual— it had started out that way, but it was slowly eroding her mind— exhausting her until all she did some nights was cry.

And even though Harry’s touch felt wonderful, and his confident display of affection had initially warmed her heart, all she wanted to do right now was cry. Cry because she was realizing, through all of this, that something like this was all she’d ever wanted. With Harry, without Harry— she’d been needing something real, and this wasn’t real. This was all pretend, a silly arrangement between two incompatible friends; one famous bastard and one delusional office job girl, his handsome face and her insecure mind.

She couldn’t handle being with him sometimes. She would open the door of her apartment, let her eyes trail over his features and doubt that he wanted to be there with her. It seemed so farfetched that he would want to fuck her, that he’d want to touch her body and kiss away her fears. She almost felt disgusted by it, by his touch, knowing that he’d touched other, better women— and many of them.

She always made him turn the lights off.

So there was no doubt that he was drunk out of his mind right now. Because why else would inform their whole friend group— not just select friends, their whole group which consisted of some mere acquaintances, of their relationship. Situationship. Whatever it had blossomed into.

Harry’s hand was burning against her stomach and she couldn’t do it anymore. She excused herself quietly to the bathroom. Y/N knew Harry’s house like the back of her hand, so she found it rather easily and walked inside. She didn’t lock the door, just washed her hands. Over, and over, and over again. She washed away all of her horrible, degrading thoughts and tried to drown out the mean voices.

You are your own worst enemy.

The knock she heard on the door was loud, but it didn’t interrupt her train of thoughts. She kept her mind on his hands, his wonderful hands, on her disgusting skin. She wanted to wash away the pain.

She could see Harry out of her periphery. She went back to the soap dispenser.

“You okay?”

Her hands became rougher with it as his voice invaded on her privacy. Her eyes became glossy as she turned on the water again. There was no doubt in her mind that Harry was watching her every move, but she didn’t really care about that.

“Y/N, turn the water off.”

She did it almost instantaneously, like she’d been needing somebody other than herself to tell her to do it because her mind wasn’t strong enough to convince her of it on its own. Harry grabbed a towel, slowly drying her hands and massaging them until they were warm and dry again.

He was staring at her, but she didn’t care if she looked strange to him now. She was strange. She’d always felt like she was faking around Harry— like she needed to be a certain version of herself in order for him to like her, and so there was this wall of pretentiousness that came with being around him.

Sometimes she wasn’t perfect or sensible, sometimes she wanted to wash her hands like a lunatic and cry all the while doing it, so he needed to finally see that. See the pain he was causing her.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, eyes trailing over her features delicately.

“Nothing,” she answered with her gaze on her hands, which were still in the towel.

“Do you want me to kick them out?”

“No,” she shook her head quickly, very decisive in her answer. “Don’t kick them out.”

It was a weird concept anyway, kicking his own friends out so he could… what, comfort her out of whatever state she’d landed in?

He took her hands delicately and interlaced them with his, throwing the towel onto the floor somewhere. She watched as it fell, as her hands found their new home in his, and finally looked up to see Harry already looking at her.

“Don’t look at me like that,” she said, almost furious.

“Like what?” He had this innocent glint in his eye, void of any bad intentions and almost oblivious to her anger.

“Like you want to kiss me.”

“I do want to kiss you,” he smiled. Then he squeezed her hands, “can I?”

Y/N had never really learned how to say no, so with her silence, but also her body inching closer to his, came the approval he was looking for. He anchored a hand onto her jaw, allowing his lips to linger on hers with a solid grasp.

Her eyes fluttered shut, the tears forming in them finally released.

Y/N deepened it, trying to latch into him even more to make these feelings go away, convince herself that everything would be fine as long as Harry was actually kissing her, but the ill feeling in her stomach worsened.

She broke away from him, pressing her forehead to his chin, and shook her head. “I can’t do this anymore.”

He was still smiling. “What?”

Panic had risen in her chest, but she still wanted to go through with this.

“I want to end this.” This because she had no idea what they were.

Harry’s eyebrows drew together in concern but when he let his hands rest on her waist, she pulled away. “I can’t. I don’t want this anymore.”

“You mean— what, you mean us?”

She nodded, “I’m sorry.”

“Why… I mean, what… since when have you—“

“Weeks, I think. I need time alone, away from you. I can’t… I want something more than this.”

He pulled away, “oh.”

“Not with you!“ she rushed to say, later realizing that it had sounded a bit offensive when he frowned in response, “but I’m getting older and I need to feel like I’m going somewhere with my life, you know? Can’t just keep being somebody’s fuck buddy.”

The words tasted sour on her tongue.

“Oh,” he said again, and it drove her crazy. Why couldn’t he just say something other than that?

He was so enigmatic that it was hard to say goodbye to him, but she had to. She had to cut ties, at least for a little, so she could recover and find somebody who didn’t make her feel bad about herself, but also did everything else exactly the way Harry did them.

“Alright, if that’s what you want,” he nodded. It was robotic, his face stoic.

There was no fight in him— she didn’t know whether she was delighted or angered by it.

She was staring at him like she wanted to memorize every curve of his mouth, his nose, the exact shade of his irises. She knew this was the end, their demise, and if she never got to be close with him again, maybe it would be fine if she could look back and remember everything about him.

Y/N left Harry in that bathroom and headed straight home.

—

Y/N hadn’t seen any of her friends in a month. Her time had been overwhelmed with work and therapy, days spent at home crying because the lack of a romantic future in her life had finally sunk in. She was broken. She was hurt and ruined, and it had all really been her fault.

But she wanted to get out again. She wanted to see her friends and let her lips curl into a relieved smile at the sight of them goofing around drunk, or making jokes about how hellish it was to be alive.

She’d gone over the possibility of running into Harry and decided it would be fine, that she’d taken enough time away to cope with seeing him again.

He arrived at Sarah’s house at 10 pm, a glass of wine latched onto his glove-covered hand. Y/N watched from the kitchen as he gave her a hug, toed off his shoes and caught her eyes. He tried to smile, as did she, and raised his arm in a wave. Y/N nodded in acknowledgement, beginning to play with the bottle of beer in her hands. She was nervous. She was broken.

Her friends had seen it, of course, the exchange, but they stayed quiet. Neither of them had spoken about their falling out, but their scattered separate arrivals at house gatherings as well as her loud absence from the last few ones had confirmed things further.

She’d tried to avoid him, but Sarah’s house wasn’t as big as Harry’s. There was less space and everywhere she was, Harry couldn’t be more than a few feet away. There was a magnetic force that she was trying to ignore, as well as the pained looks he would be so blatant about.

Once things had quieted down, and the group had left to scatter in small gatherings around the fire place, on the couch, outside on the patio, Y/N felt it the best opportunity to sneak into the corridor where no one was around.

Well, no one but him. He always seemed to find her.

“I went on a date last week.”

Y/N sighed, “you’ve gotta stop following me around—“

“Because I hadn’t, you know,” he said, voice cracking and hand tightening around his glass, “I hadn’t been on one in months. Ever since we started, actually. Never thought it was necessary, or that I wanted to. But then you left, and I thought about what you said, and I really wanted to date. So I went to the bar, you know? I went to the bar and I… I saw this girl, and she was beautiful. She had long, wavy hair and she wore these really cute glasses, you know? Like, these brown tortoiseshell glasses similar to the ones you wear sometimes, and I fell in love with those glasses. Just fucking… couldn’t stop staring at them. I was thinking about you and about the night you left and I…” the words seemed to get lost somewhere in his throat, but he had this look on his face that mirrored painful confusion.

“Harry—“

“I want you to know that that was a really fucked up thing to do.”

That was it. After that, he left. He faced the other way and walked away from her. It wasn’t until he reached the door and opened it that she started following him.

“No!” She protested, “no, you don’t get to say that and walk away from me, you dick. You were the one who… who— just, you hurt me!”

That seemed to irk him (she’d wanted it to) because he turned again, stepping so close that she started backtracking, “I hurt you? I hurt you? You were the one who left!”

“Because you’re confusing as fuck!”

“What do you even—“ he shook his head, “you’re fucking quiet. You never tell me what you’re thinking or how you’re feeling and all at once, you burst at me. You never… you never say anything.”

“That’s what you wanted, Harry, so don’t tell me it’s only me when it was always about sex. You wanted the arrangement, you wanted booty calls, you wanted—“

“I wanted you to be you! The way you were when we were friends— so I tried to get you to open up, get closer to you, but you would never let me!”

Y/N was sure their friends could hear them from the living room, but she couldn’t find it in her to worry. “Why let myself get hurt when all this was was some stupid way to pass time? Cause that’s all it was, right? You call me, I call you— that’s fine, but it’s not worth exposing my secrets for.”

“Right, well I was under the impression things were going better but fine, if that’s what you think.”

She tutted. “Don’t do that. You told me you didn’t date, that we couldn’t start anything more and I never pushed you. I did exactly as you said.”

He blew out a breath, “things change.”

“I don’t know if you did, honestly.”

“I did.”

“You did?” She challenged, knowing it would blow up in her face. “What changed? Tell me exactly what changed, because it all felt the same to me! But I don’t know, maybe I missed your devastating declaration of love, or maybe I—“

“Alright, I love you, okay?” He was gripping his face in frustration, not nearly confident enough to look her in the eyes. In a more controlled tone, he repeated himself. “I love you.”

She scoffed. Out loud. It was followed by a laugh too, her scoff, and it reverberated through the room. Then she shook her head, and she couldn’t believe the audacity of him.

“Right, okay.”

He gave a sigh, tired. “Stop invalidating my feelings.”

His voice harbored just enough vulnerability for her to feel for him.

“You’re insecure about us, I get it. You were hurt, I understand. I didn’t want more when you did, I understand that too— but you weren’t the only one who got hurt in the end. It may have started out as a simple arrangement, but you know damn well things started changing months ago. I was showing you different sides of myself so that you would show the other, imperfect sides of you, but you never compromised with me. You wanted me to turn the lights off. You don’t even believe me when I say that I love you! Do you get how devastating it feels to tell someone that you love them and not only do they not feel the same way, they don’t even believe you could be capable of it?”

And she… she didn’t know what to say after that.

He was right, she supposed. She hadn’t considered his feelings in the matter.

“I do love you. I do. But if you think we’re a joke and we were never even real anyway, then fine.”

He’d started to distance himself, taking a few steps backwards from where she stood. She wanted to cry, but she didn’t want him to think she was trying to play victim— it was just what she did whenever she felt overwhelmed.

Y/N let him leave. Let him open the door and walk out, back to their friends, as she stood there alone. He was walking away from her.

And once the door closed, she burst into tears.

Her insecurities were mean, they were heavy on every part of her being right now.

She faced the front door leading outside and cried, trying to be as quiet as she could so nobody would hear her.

He did, though, or at least he had a feeling she was crying because he came back shortly after, almost like he’d been stood just outside regretting ever leaving. She could almost picture it, the door closing, their friends staring back at him with questioning glances— how he may have shut his eyes and released a deep breath before readying himself to get swallowed whole by the dramatics of it all over again. She was facing away from him, but her shoulders trembled in fear and he could kind of see her through the reflection of the door.

“Y/N.”

She shook her head.

“Y/N, turn around.” When she didn’t comply, Harry pulled her to the front of his chest, hesitant at first but becoming more confident as he felt her relax. His mouth was near her ear as he whispered, “I’m sorry, I didn’t want to make you cry.”

“Don’t, I’ve been horrible to you. And stupid.“

He shook his head. “It’s both of our faults.”

“I just… I always thought you wouldn’t like me as anything more than what we were and I wasn’t thinking.”

“I know,” he shushed her, pressing his lips to the side of her head and letting them linger there. “I know you didn’t mean to hurt me.”

He coaxed her around, never letting go.

“I’m so sorry.”

“I’m sorry too.”

She sniffled, “I forgive you.”

He chuckled against her forehead, his chest heaving against hers. Her lips were curling into a small smile as well. She couldn’t help but mirror him.

“It’s okay if you don’t feel the same way, I didn’t mean to… you know, say it like that in the middle of an argument. Shouldn’t have done that.”

She thought for a moment before settling on a subtle shrug. “Think I do though.”

He laughed, “you think?”

She moved to rest her chin on his chest, a glint in her wet eyes as she spoke, “if I say I know, will you date me for real?” She still sounded nervous.

His grin was wide. “I don’t know, don’t you think it’s a bit too soon for dating? I mean, I just told you I love you.”

The delight that sparked in her was all he’d been looking for. “I wouldn’t be surprised with how anti-relationships you are.”

Harry pinched her bum, rolling his eyes. “That was before I knew you think you may be in love me. Now I’m considering it.”

She looked extra cute because her eyes were still glossy and red, but she seemed happier, a smile completely molding her features. “Hm, well I guess I better know then.”

He leaned down enough to nudge her nose with his, “you probably should.”

“I love you,” she whispered, breath hitting his lips. “I know I do.”

He kissed her then, pulling her impossibly close. “Again,” he’d said, and she obeyed. He gave her two short kisses, mumbling, “again” over and over again until he had his fill.

He couldn’t resist the last finishing kiss, lasting just a few seconds longer than the other ones. “Let’s go home.”

—

the end!

#harry styles fanfiction #harry styles angst #harry styles x you #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fan fiction #harry styles one shot #harry styles fic #harry styles #harry styles fluff #harry styles concept #famous!harry #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n

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parkerslatte · 6 months ago

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Incompatible | Part One

Eris Vanserra x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 3.4k

Warnings: none

Summary: Y/N Archeron was a human living in the land of the fae. For her own protection, the Inner Circle keeps her in Velaris, safe and protected. One day, Azriel invites her to a meeting after seeing her close into herself more and more. There she meets the one who flips her whole life upside down.

A/N: This is a request from @talesofadragon , thank you so much for sending it in, it definitely helped with my writers block :) also this will have a second part and possibly a third so keep an eye on for those soon!

A Court of Thorns and Roses Masterlist

•••

Y/N Archeron remembered the day she returned to the house her two younger sisters lived in and found it completely destroyed. It had only been three months since she had last visited as making the journey across the human lands was a tiring one that Y/N did not make very often. Far from the village her sisters lived in, Y/N lived mostly alone with a large stretch of farmlands and woodlands. The closest neighbour to her was nearly a mile down the road. But Y/N liked that, she liked the peace living on the farm brought her.

After she moved when she was freshly eighteen, Y/N sent most of her earnings to her family and lived off of the bare minimum. But she was happy, probably happier than she had been in a while.

Now years on from that, at twenty-eight, Y/N continued to sit at the table in the town house and watched the world go by. She tried to concentrate on her book or anything else but she couldn’t, her mind was elsewhere. It always was this past year. Occasionally someone would walk by but Y/N made no effort to make conversation. All she wanted to do was leave the damned house.

Y/N was only a human living in the land of the fae. When she first arrived, she was happy. She was back with her sisters and she was in a new place to explore. At first, Rhys allowed her to walk the streets of Velaris, browsing the shops and market stalls. Soon that transitioned to her needing an escort wherever she went and very soon after that, it turned into Y/N being locked up in whatever house everyone decided that week. Today was the town house. She knew that her family were only looking out for her and only wanted to protect her. After all, Y/N was not immortal. She was not fae. She could bruise easily, was far weaker than anyone else around her.

Y/N sighed yet again and threw the book in her hands to the floor. She didn’t understand why she was here anymore. Y/N knew that she was of no use to anyone around her, she felt more like an inconvenience if anything. They should have just taken her back to her own damned farm.

“Hey,” Azriel said, approaching the eldest Archeron. “I came to check on you.”

“Of your own free will or because you were forced to?” Y/N snapped back. She instantly felt guilty. Since she was brought to Velaris, Azriel had been nothing but kind to her. They all had but he was the only one who had gone out of his way to talk with her everyday. Her sisters had stopped doing that when they had either begun their own families or had gone travelling.

“My own free will if you really want to know,” Azriel said and sat down in the chair next to hers. He glanced down at the book on the floor. “Did the book really deserve that?”

“It probably deserved a lot more than that,” Y/N said, bringing her legs up onto the chair. She looked back out of the window.

Azriel sighed. “Y/N, look, I know that you don’t want to be here–”

“What gave you that impression?” Y/N interrupted.

Azriel simply ignored her. “But you are safe here.”

“I could have been safe at my farm,” Y/N said. “There was no need to bring me here. Feyre and Nesta are both busy with their families to sit with me anymore. Elain is busy travelling the continent with Lucien. I don’t have any friends here–”

“I am your friend, Y/N,” Azriel interrupted her. “And all we are trying to do is protect you. The whole of Prythian knows that there is another Archeron sister and they all know that you are human. If anyone were to get to you, it would put you as well as your sisters in danger. Because you know that they would do anything to get you back safe.”

Y/N sighed. “I know but this is not a life, Azriel. All I do is sit indoors and waste away. I am not even allowed to go outside anymore. Whenever there is a meeting happening, I am sent away to the furthest possible room. I feel like a prisoner, Azriel. You may not see it, but it is how I feel.”

Azriel sighed and stood up.

“Where are you going?” Y/N said.

“To a meeting,” Azriel answers.

Y/N huffed and turned back to the window. Her eyes burned with unshed tears. “Have fun.”

Y/N expected to hear Azriel’s retreating footsteps but she didn’t. Slowly she turned her head and found him standing there, his hand outstretched.

“What?” Y/N asked.

“Are you coming or not?” Azriel asked.

Hope lit up Y/N’s heart. “You’re serious?”

“Deadly,” Azriel said.

Y/N stood up and threw her arms around the shadowsinger, nearly knocking him off balance. “What will the others say?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Azriel said. “If they say anything, let me deal with it.”

“Thank you!” Y/N exclaimed, pulling back from Azriel.

Azriel chuckled. “Don’t thank me yet. You are going to hate it once you realise how boring these meetings are.”

“I don’t care,” Y/N said as Azriel began to lead her to the meeting hall. “As long as I can actually be involved in something, I’ll find entertainment in anything.”

As soon as Azriel opened the door to the meeting hall, all eyes were on her. Y/N didn’t shrink away, she lifted her chin and looked around proudly. There weren’t many in the room at all, in fact there was only one new face amongst everyone else. Y/N studied him and, upon inspection, decided that he was the most beautiful man she had ever laid eyes on. His copper hair sat neatly on top of his head, a singular strand falling across his forehead. His fashion sense was immaculate and Y/N wanted to study the embroidery on his jacket up close.

As Y/N moved her gaze back to the man’s face, she found him looking at her, a smirk pulling at his lips. Y/N gave him a small smile.

A chair scraped across the floor, drawing Y/N’s attention away.

“Azriel, what is she doing here?” Rhys asked, his voice low and deadly as he spoke to Azriel.

“I thought she could sit in on a meeting,” Azriel shrugged, pulling out a chair for Y/N. One directly across from the handsome man. “You and everyone else made Y/N read books on fae politics, so I thought she could see a political meeting in person.”

Rhys tried to remain calm but Y/N could easily see the anger and tension slipping through the cracks.

Cassian was the next to speak up. “Az is right Rhys. Y/N must learn about all of this at some point. And there’s nothing like the present.”

Rhys’s gaze hardened on Cassian before he turned back to face Y/N. He offered her a small, barely there smile. “Very well.”

The stares of her two sisters burned into Y/N as she looked down at the table. Y/N hadn’t seen Feyre and Nesta in at least three weeks, but Y/N had to admit that by fae standards, three weeks was not a long time. But to Y/N it was, especially when there was barely anything she could do to pass the time.

The chair next to Y/N scraped across the floor and Azriel sat down next to her. Y/N turned her head to look at him.

Thank you, she mouthed.

Azriel gave her a small nod before he turned his attention to Rhys as he began to speak up. Y/N had to admit to herself that she did not find any of what Rhys was saying particularly interesting, but she still felt glad to finally be included in something.

The meeting felt like it had drawled on forever and Y/N had learnt to block everyone out. Though, if Y/N had to admit to herself, whenever the man with copper hair spoke, she found herself tuning into the conversation just to hear his voice. Not only was he the most beautiful man she had ever laid eyes on, his voice was the most beautiful she had ever heard. Y/N wasn’t sure if one could fall in love with the sound of someone’s voice but she already had.

Y/N shuffled in her chair and finally looked up from where she was looking at the small crack in the table. Her back ached from her lack of movement and the uncomfortable seat she had found herself in. The sun outside had begun to go down, casting the room in a faint orange glow. The expression on Y/N’s face saddened as she looked at the sunset. All she wanted to do was go outside and bask in the sun on her own. She wanted her own place to live without the constant feeling of being babysat. All Y/N wanted was her own life back.

Cassian cleared his throat and it interrupted Y/N from her own thoughts. As she zoned back in, she made eye contact with the handsome man again. He was looking directly at her, a gleam in his eyes that seemed like…concern. Y/N didn’t avert her gaze. Something within her made her not want to look away. She was swimming in his eyes and she would happily drown if she had no other choice.

The corner of the man’s mouth twitched and Y/N couldn’t help but mimic that movement, fighting the urge to smile. Nothing had made her smile properly in a while but just simply from looking at this man, she wanted to smile, share that experience with him. Y/N pressed her lips into a thin line and averted her gaze, only for a quick second. As her eyes met the man’s once more, a small smile pulled at his lips.

“Eris,” Rhys interrupted and the man reluctantly looked away from Y/N.

“What?” The man, now known to Y/N as Eris, said sharply. “Sorry, what did you say?”

Rhys’s gaze flicked between Eris and Y/N and his gaze darkened the smallest amount. “I asked you if there was anything else you wished to discuss.”

Eris leaned back in his chair. “Actually there is one thing. I would like to know the name of the beautiful woman I have not been introduced to yet.”

Rhys rolled his eyes. “Her name is–”

Eris held up his hand, cutting Rhys off. “Ah, I did not ask you for her name.” Eris turned his attention to Y/N. “I would like her to introduce herself.”

Y/N briefly glanced at her sisters. Their expressions did not give away much but for some reason Y/N had a feeling that neither of them wanted her to introduce herself. It only made Y/N want to do it more.

Y/N plastered a bright smile on her face as she faced Eris once more. “I’m Y/N Archeron.”

“Y/N,” Eris repeated, her name sounding like poetry on his tongue. “A beautiful name to match such a woman.”

Y/N’s smile only brightened.

“Now all introductions are over, I will see you out, Eris,” Rhys said.

“I can see myself out Rhysand,” Eris replied, standing from his chair. “Although I would not complain if the beautiful Y/N walked me out.”

Y/N felt Eris’s eyes bore into hers and she couldn’t help the heat that rose to her cheeks.

“I–” Y/N began to speak but she was cut off by Rhys.

“She will not escort you out, Eris,” Rhys said.

“I’m sure Y/N can speak for herself, Rhysand,” Eris said, his eyes not leaving Y/N’s.

Reluctantly, Y/N shifted her gaze from Eris to Rhys. The High Lord’s violet eyes hardened and Y/N knew exactly what that look meant. It was a warning. Y/N then looked at her two sisters. Feyre did not seem to mind as she slightly nodded at Y/N. Nesta only looked at Rhys’s annoyed expression in amusement. Y/N looked at Cassian and Azriel. While they didn’t say anything, the protective look in their eyes said enough. Though as her gaze met Azriel’s he shrugged. Do what you want, his look seemed to say. It doesn’t mean that I need to like it.

Y/N turned back to face Eris. “I’ll escort you out.”

Instead of a smirk, Eris plastered a pleasant smile upon his handsome face. Y/N pushed back her chair, it scraped loudly against the floor. She could feel the eyes of everyone on her yet she was only focused on one. As she walked around the table to meet Eris, he offered her his arm. Y/N took it gracefully, feeling the hard muscle beneath his jacket.

As soon as they were outside of the meeting room, Y/N let out a long breath. She looked at Eris to find him already looking at her.

“I can feel how suffocated you are,” Eris said, his eyebrow knitting together in concern. “I know the feeling all too well myself.”

Y/N sighed. “This is honestly the first time I have ever been allowed to do anything on my own in a long time.”

“I cannot imagine how that must feel,” Eris said. “If I were in your shoes, I would simply run for the hills.”

Y/N’s lips twitched. “Don’t you think I’ve thought of doing that?”

“I don’t see why you don’t,” Eris said, as they finally stepped outside. Y/N lingered in the threshold of the doors. Eris’s concern seemed to heighten. “How long has it been since you have been outside?”

“Well only a few days since I moved from the House of Wind to here,” Y/N said. “But actually being outside and feeling the sun on my skin, quite a while.”

Eris scoffed. “Moved around? You are not a piece of furniture.You are a human being.”

“Exactly,” Y/N replied. “A human being. I am not fae. I am not safe if I am to live and walk around in daylight.”

“That is no way to live,” Eris said.

“It is the way I have been living for nearly four years now,” Y/N said.

“Well why don’t you and I change that,” Eris said, trailing his hand down Y/N’s arm to intertwine their fingers together. Y/N smiled as she felt his warm palm against hers. “Step out into the sun with me.”

“But it is sunset,” Y/N commented.

“It is said that that is when the sun looks the most beautiful,” Eris replied, nodding his head in the direction of the large hill obscuring their view of the sunset. “We will get a perfect view just up there.”

“I don’t know,” Y/N said, stepping back from Eris, though she didn’t release his hand. She didn’t want to release his hand. The warmth she felt from it was unlike any other.

“Don’t do that,” Eris said softly.

“Do what?” Y/N asked.

“Shrink into yourself,” Eris said, lightly pulling her so she stood close to him. “Come with me. It is only over the hill after all. I can walk you back here safely after.”

Eris’s expression held no ill intent and deep down Y/N already knew that for reasons she couldn’t explain. Y/N nodded her head slowly. A wide smile spread across Eris’s face and Y/N couldn’t help herself but smile back. His smile was infectious.

Together they stepped out of the townhouse and Eris led her further away from the building. Y/N’s eyes lit up as she felt the warm sun on her skin. They stopped at the top of the hill as Y/N’s eyes widened in wonder. It had been a while since she had seen such a beautiful sight.

“I have to admit that this sight is rather beautiful,” Eris commented. “But the sights in Autumn are even better.”

Y/N turned her attention to Eris. “Perhaps I can see them one day?”

Eris smiled. “I would happily take you now if you wanted.”

The smile fell from Y/N’s face. She glanced back towards the townhouse. “I would love that, but…”

Eris glanced at the house. “They won’t let you.”

“It is their way of making sure I am protected, though I just feel trapped all the damn time,” Y/N said. “I hate feeling useless and that my life has no meaning. I rarely see my sisters because they are busy with their own families or travelling. I am not even allowed to train to pass the time, I am considered too delicate apparently, even for the training dummies. I just want to finally leave this court. I want to go back to my farm.”

“Your farm?” Eris asked.

“Before my sisters were turned into fae, I lived on my own farm hundreds of miles away. I sent most of the money I made to my sisters. I lived on the basics but I was happy,” Y/N explained. “I would kill to go back there.”

“Why don’t you?”

“Well everyone inside of that house for starters but by now I am sure it is run down. I didn’t have anyone to help out on the farm, only the occasional person passing through if they were in need of work,” Y/N explained. “I am sure that it is not the cosy home it used to be by now and if I’m being honest, I do not have the motivation to even think about remodelling it.”

“What if you had help?” Eris suggested.

A small smile creeped onto Y/N’s face. “Eris, are you offering to help me?”

“Perhaps I am,” Eris replied, taking a small step closer. “And if I was, Y/N Archeron, what would your answer be?”

“I would say–”

“Y/N!” Rhys called from the townhouse.

Y/N rolled her eyes and turned to look at Rhys. He stood in the doorway with his arms folded across his chest. Y/N sighed. “I should get back inside now.”

As Y/N went to take a step back but Eris gently gripped her hand. “I take it that it would be impossible to convince you to come with me.”

“It wouldn’t be impossible to convince me,” Y/N said. “But convincing the Inner Circle to allow me out of sight is near impossible.”

Eris briefly looked at Rhys before looking back at Y/N. “Maybe I can convince them.”

Y/N laughed. “I’d like to see you try.”

“I take that as a challenge,” Eris smirked. “Mark my words, Y/N, that by this time three days from now, I will get you out of that house.”

Y/N linked her fingers through Eris’s. “Well I cannot wait until you do.”

Eris lifted her hand and pressed his lips against her knuckles. “I will look forward to seeing you again, Y/N.”

“Y/N,” Rhys said, interrupting Y/N from responding.

“Rhys,” Y/N greeted.

Rhys turned to Eris. “I see that my sister-in-law has escorted you out, maybe it is time for you to take your leave, Eris.”

“I was just leaving,” Eris replied, a gleam in his eye. “I have a very important letter to write tonight.”

Eris slipped his hand away from Y/N’s but Y/N found herself wanting to take his once more. The immediate coolness that wrapped around her hand was far from pleasant and she missed the warmth Eris provided.

“I will see you very soon, Y/N,” Eris said, that gleam still shining brightly in his eyes. He turned on his heel and walked away without turning back. The light shone on his copper hair and Y/N wanted nothing more than to follow him.

Rhys offered his arm to Y/N. “Let’s get back inside.”

“Before someone sees?” Y/N replied sharply. She walked ahead of Rhys the short distance to the town house. Though she felt a fluttering in her stomach and waited in anticipation to see if Eris’s words would come true.

#acotar #acotar x reader #a court of thorns and roses #eris vanserra #eris vanserra x reader #eris x reader #eris acotar

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throughparisallthroughrome · 3 months ago

Text

"Got the Blues Back in Boston"

Chapter 1

Pairing: Modern!Anakin Skywalker x Reader

Description: Leaving behind an incompatible college and profound heartbreak on the Virginia Coast, you find yourself home again in Brookline, Massachusetts. A new opportunity presents itself to you at MIT, joining your brother ben and childhood friends/neighbors, Anakin and Ahsoka. Despite the familiarity, you discover just how much of a difference 2 years away can really make between the people you once considered family.

Warnings:f!reader, angst, jealousy, pining, smut, masturbation, mentions/descriptions of domestic abuse, cursing, drinking/drug usage, academic obsession, general obsession, hardcore partying, frats, general college bullshit

DISCLAIMER!!! READ BEFORE PROCEEDING: I’ve never been in an abusive relationship- I’ve only witnessed them. I’m an aspiring psychology major and have done a lot of research on the topic of domestic abuse/violence. This series deals with this topic HEAVILY, so be warned.

Word Count: 6.3k A/N: First chapter is up! I'm sorry it took so long, I was really hoping to nail a certain feel and aesthetic with this series, and I really hope that translates. I'm probably gonna post the playlist I listen to while writing this because it does have a lot of influence on the story and everything. Please let me know if you wish to be tagged! Requests and ask box is open, and any/all criticism is welcome! Thank you for reading and supporting me <3

masterlist.

The drive to Brookline was always a hassle. Whether it was crossing the scary bridge along the coast of Virginia or through New York City—knowing that you’d still never been—it always ached. Maybe it was because you hadn’t been home in two years—and you missed Boston.

Piled high in the back of your black Ford Focus was the last two years of your life that you could fit. You left behind everything else.

The forest that encompassed you on I-95 offered a clearer perspective on your situation. As devastating as it had been, your new beginning after high school was not quite what you expected it to be. Hampton was a lovely place; the beaches were excellent, the people friendly, and there was always something to do. Somewhere to go. You made decent money working as a cocktail waitress in a club near your apartment, which is how you met Nick.

Tall, with a handsome face and a charm that was impossible to resist, Nick was the kind of man you couldn't help but be drawn to. He had a gorgeous smile and a body sculpted from the gods. The night you met him, he smooth-talked his way into your bed, introducing himself as Nicholas, saying how he never met someone as beautiful as you. The other waitresses just didn’t compare. And the rest was history. Were you usually the type to sleep with someone on the first date (if you could call it that)? Definitely not. But something about him was so captivating.

But as the trees passed you by and your grip on your steering wheel tightened, you felt a tear fall onto your shaking hands. What happened to the Nick you loved? What went wrong? Who did you both turn into? Besides, the whole thing going south was your fault- you both knew that. You wanted too much; you let those men flirt, and you were never there for him. You never did what he asked. And you’d never amount to anything. At least, that’s what Nick always told you- and part of you was inclined to believe it.

Your heart ached at the loss. The 11-hour drive was increasingly painful by the second, only two hours in and not even through the first city. The morning sun beamed in your eye as your car trudged through the wetlands, bathed in its golden hue.1 In the distance, you could make out the skyline of DC, the first city you needed to travel through.

It was nice in DC. You had attended a few times in the past. On one of the many family vacations you took throughout the years, you, your parents, and the Skywalkers had all made a trip together to that specific destination. You intentionally took the longer way home to ensure you remember it all. Besides, the Delaware Peninsula was far from interesting. And you needed the time to think- and probably mentally prepare yourself for what you’d arrive at.

The most exciting part of the trip was Baltimore, Philly, and NYC back to back. Despite sitting in mind-numbing traffic a lot of times, there was always something to look at. And people-watching was always your favorite. You felt your heart hurt, wishing for the opportunities that these cities could bring. As New York City and Hartford disappeared in the rearview mirror, the approaching Boston skyline sent a shiver down your spine, your breath catching in your throat. And there was the traffic.

You shakily reached for a cigarette out of your purse as your car came to a stop, breaking your own promise that you wouldn’t smoke in the car you bought. A wide smile spread across your face as you lit the cigarette, your body relaxing as the sweet scent filled the air. Naturally, your mind went straight to Anakin. Whenever you tasted cigarettes, it was impossible not to think of him and the bittersweet moments you shared. After all, he started your bad habit. Once again, your hands shook. Did he ever think about you while you were gone? You were close, but he was also an incredible pain in your ass. And what if he and Padme suddenly got back together? Ahsoka would have told you, right? Maybe.

She would have told you.

The familiar streets of Brookline outstretched before you, energetic and alive, instantly flooding your mind with cheerful memories that brought a grin to your face. Your smile widened across your face as you glanced at the familiar sports bar on the corner, reminiscing about the laughter and friendships you developed during your time as a hostess in high school. You turned the corner at the next light, a quiet laugh escaping your lips as the vibrant lights of the movie theater danced before your eyes, eliciting the sweet nostalgia of your god-awful first kiss. You weren’t expecting little Tommy to stick his tongue down your throat in 7th grade. As you approached Emerson Garden, a bittersweet ache tugged at your heart, memories of laughter and familiarity flooding your mind—the memories it held.

The streetlights flickered as you turned down the most familiar road of all. You bit your lip in anticipation and ignored the urge to light another cigarette right then and there- your mom didn’t need to know about your filthy habit (although she smoked, too). The soft melodies of Radiohead and the laughter echoed from the back porch as you parked in the driveway. Gazing at the house with a smile, you felt a hint of excitement about reclaiming your old room. It had been far too long.

The porch light turned on, and out ran Ahsoka, not even giving you a chance to turn your car off.

“You motherfucker!” She yelled, opening the car door and throwing her arms around you as you laughed, “It’s been so fucking long!”

You looked back at her, pulling the beanie off her head and giggling, “Well, don’t tell the others, but I only came back for you.”

“Shut up,” she stands up, pulling you up with her, “Get your ass inside.” You laugh and salute her, following her through the familiar corridors of your house and into the kitchen.

“Shut the FUCK up. She’s real!” Your mom squealed and quickly set her wine down, embracing you as if you’d be gone in an instant. “Never leave me like that again.” She pulls away and laughs, her tone laced with a hint of seriousness.

“Never.” You promised, smiling wide before your dad caught your attention, tossing you a beer and shooting a wink in your direction. Although he wasn't typically sentimental, you could tell he missed you.

“Where are the boys?” you asked, opening the can and drinking the bitter liquid. “Jesus Christ, Miller Lite never gets better, does it?” You squinted your eyes in disgust, giggling at your own reaction.

“Nope, thought I taught you better than that.” He wraps an arm around your shoulders, kissing the top of your head. “They’re outside with Cliegg and Shmi.”

“Okay, sweet, I’ll go say hello.” You motion towards the back door, catching a glimpse of Ben from the back porch.

“Hey,” He grabs your arm before you can turn to leave. “We missed you. I hope you’re okay. Ahsoka didn’t give us any details, but she said things really went to shit in Hampton. I just want to make sure you know you always have a home here, and we will do what we can to make it better, okay?”

You nodded and smiled before practically running out the back door, forgetting exactly what you were throwing yourself into.

“You fucker, you cheated!” Anakin yells, throwing down his cards as Ben takes a swig of his beer and laughs.

“I’m afraid you just have an awful poker face, Anakin.” He sets his cards down and stands up, turning to face you with a smile. “There she is. About time you graced us with your presence.”

You give a shrug before embracing Ben tightly, fighting back tears welling up in your eyes. You and Ben were close, and you knew that if he found out what happened, it would devastate him. He and Anakin were always there to keep you safe, but you had a distinct sibling connection. He knew you too well, always able to read your thoughts with uncanny accuracy.

“You okay?” He pulled away and whispered, searching your sad eyes.

“Yeah, just tired. Long ass drive. Took the long way this time.” You sniffled, and he nodded in response, letting go and pulling a chair out between Anakin and what you assumed was Ahsoka’s chair. With a quiet thank you on your lips, you raised your beer to your mouth and took a long, satisfying gulp, feeling a gentle buzz settle in.

“So, you’re back.” Anakin avoids eye contact, shuffling the cards before him as Ahsoka stifles a laugh. “Took you long enough.”

“Anakin!” Shmi scolds, noticing how his lips turn into a smirk, “You know he missed you, Y/N. He’s just a sore loser. Ben’s kicked his ass at poker three times now.”

“Ah,” You nod, a grin spreading across your face, “He just doesn’t want to admit he sucks at poker- OW!” You feel a sudden impact as Anakin's foot forcefully meets the top of yours, causing you to shoot a glare in his direction. His eyes remain fixed on the cards, completely disregarding your look, while he bites down on his lip, trying to contain his amusement. "Sore loser indeed," you mutter under her breath, shaking her head in annoyance as you pick up the cards he handed you.

Of course, the hand was awful. You weren’t sure how you’d make it out of this alive. Family poker nights were a tradition started by your parents and the Skywalkers, which you were all quickly introduced to by your 10th birthday. Once you hit double digits, you were old enough to gamble. Ahsoka was always the best, but you had a habit of making a comeback when people least expected it. And you had a great poker face- Anakin did not. Anakin had a habit of wearing every thought and emotion on his sleeve his entire life. Shmi always swore it would be his downfall- as a child, you thought she was just talking about his downfall at poker. But once you got older, you quickly understood.

When you discovered his breakup with Padme, you felt like maybe part of you understood. But you never really knew why they broke up. Everyone just told you, “They were better off as friends,” and that was all you knew. Did you want the real story? Absolutely. But part of you was worried about what he’d tell you. You knew better than to get involved in Anakin’s love life, and deep down, a part of you didn’t want to taint the image you had always had of him in your mind.

“Heard you finally got into MIT,” Anakin breaks the silence and your train of thought as he pushes a couple of chips into the center of the table, “Congratulations, although I’ve never heard of anyone going to MIT for an Archeology degree.” You roll your eyes and sigh.

“There it is.” You giggle as everyone groans, setting their cards down as they fold.

“There’s what?” He shoots you a disapproving glare.

“You’ve never given me a compliment without an insult. Was waiting for it.” You shrug, laying down your cards, “Full house.” Anakin’s jaw drops as you pull all the chips in your direction.

“Shit,” He mutters, setting his cards down and laying his head on the table as he groans loudly in annoyance, “Fucking done with this game.”

“And so are we,” Shmi motions Cliegg to stand, “Love you guys. Have fun. Good to have you back, sweetheart.” Shmi kisses your head as Cliegg ruffles your hair before leaving to say goodnight to your parents.

“Mhm,” you hum, finishing the last of your beer, “and plenty of people go to MIT for archeology. It’s a great school. Besides, it’s about time I joined you all there. And it’s only a 15-minute drive. Speaking of- how’s biochemical engineering going, little one?” With a gentle tap on Ahsoka's knee, she reluctantly tears her gaze away from her phone and responds with an eye roll.

“Fucking awful! I love what I’m studying; the school is incredible- just so much work. I’m so tired. I have time for nothing!” She groans and sinks further into her chair while you, Anakin, and Ben burst into uncontrollable laughter.

“Coming from a recent MIT graduate- it doesn’t get any better. Just wait until you get further into your major- Biochemical Engineering is far from easy.” Ben offers her a smile while you and Anakin continue giggling.

“And on that note,” You stand up, shaking your empty can, “I’m getting something stronger than this Miller.”

As you enter the house, a soft purr fills the air as your familiar furry companion, Giz, wraps himself around your legs. You squat down on the floor and feel the warmth of his fur as you pet him, "Missed you, little guy."

“He missed you too.” Your mom leans against the doorway, handing you an obnoxiously full glass of wine. “Had a feeling you came in for this. Are we gonna talk about what happened?”

You sigh, standing up and rubbing your hands on your thighs. “Now’s not really the time or place, Mom. I just got here. The last thing I wanna think about is that.” You grab the glass out of her hand and attempt to turn around before her hand is on your shoulder, pulling you back.

“Not so fast.” You turn around and meet her concerned eyes, your hands feeling more sweaty than they did a minute ago. “Y/N, no one just up and leaves their entire life for the past two years suddenly without something major happening. I know you haven’t told anyone- and I know the last thing you want to do is talk about it- but please, for the love of God, talk to someone. We can all tell something is off. You’re not yourself, honey. We care about you- and we’re concerned. As much as I’m so fucking happy to have you back, I know something bad happened, and I want to be there for you.”

“Mom,” You put your hand on her shoulder, fighting back tears with a smile. “You’re doing enough. I just want to have a good time, focus on being in my dream school, and g-get my life back together, okay?”

“O-okay,” she nods, her voice laced with apprehension as she turns away from you and back into the kitchen, “Pasta on the stove if you want it!”

“Thanks!” you yell, shutting the back door behind you and sighing loudly as you plop back into your chair, earning an eyebrow raise from everyone, “I’m here for an hour and she’s already bugging me.”

“She just loves you, Y/N/N.” Ben tries to reason, and you feel your leg bounce.

“Yeah,” you mumble, fidgeting with the poker chips on the table.

“So,” Anakin leans forward, opening another beer, “You and that guy still together? What was his name.. Harry? James?”

“Nick.” You answer for him, unconsciously biting your lip. “And no, we’re not.” Everyone’s ears suddenly perked up at the confession, the consensus being just how little they knew about your life.

“Damn, what’d you do?” Anakin jokes, searching your face for a smile, only to be met with nothing.

“Ha. Good one.” You chuckle under your breath, your lips forming into a frown.

As soon as Anakin brought up Nick, you lost interest in the conversation. Nick never met the family; you only told them about him over the phone while you were gone. He had always insisted that your life was meant to be in Hampton with him, where you would create something new together. You didn’t need to return home to your family; if you did, you’d be leaving him all alone. Holidays and significant moments came and went, and all the while, you were stuck at a college you loathed, sharing your life with a man you mistakenly believed was the one.

During your nights in Hampton, you and Nick would often find yourselves curled up on the couch, indulging in excessive drinking while he introduced you to various illicit substances. You pretended to enjoy soccer and cocaine, drinking more tequila than you needed. Shot after shot, followed by line after line, you barely knew who you were. He constantly told you how pretty you were, how you were made for him, but if you forgot to run to the liquor store that day, he would treat you as if you were dead to him. Nick offered little in return for your support, except for empty assurances that the life you would build together would make it all worthwhile. Nick's behavior took a downward spiral as he began staying late at work and arriving home in a drunken stupor. From that point on, things spiraled out of control.

And maybe a part of you once loved Nick, but now you felt suffocated in the relationship. And when you tried to bring things up to him, he’d tell you that you were a cheap whore who was only made to be his personal fuck toy. And just like that, the conversation came to an end. The coercion left, and he started to force you to use the drugs he’d use, tell you to skip class, skip tests, skip your job- you were losing yourself within him, and you were worried about the consequences if you didn’t let it happen. He was always a kind, sweet, romantic boy- but he could be so, so evil.

And you’ll never forget the first time he hit you, the sound of his hand connecting with your skin echoing in your ears. As you sat on the counter, the alcohol made your vision blur, and your head throbbed as if it was about to explode. You were already at your limit, and the last thing you wanted was to do was another line. Your nose was already starting to bleed a little, and he begged and begged for you to keep going- telling you he needed it. He didn’t want to do it alone- you had to do it. As you stubbornly declined once more, a sudden, fiery sting seared across your cheek, causing your nose to finally bleed and droplets of blood to stain your thigh. He apologized profusely, waiting on you hand and foot as he cleaned you up, held your hair as you puked, washed you, and still talked you into sex- but it had happened. You knew you needed to leave, or your life could be at stake.

“Y/N?” Ben asks, and you break out of your Nick-induced trance with a sharp gasp, your eyes glossy and lips bloody from your nervous tic.

“I’ll be back.” You stand back up, taking a concerningly long swig from the wine before exiting out the back gate and into the driveway.

“I’m really concerned about her.” Ben watches you leave and bites his lip. Ahsoka nods along with him. “Listen, as happy as I am to have her back, something’s not right. As her brother, I just- I fear the worst. She’s not herself.”

“Did you see the way she reacted when you asked about Nick?” Ahsoka whispered, leaning in to closer to the table, “Something had to have happened.”

“Wait.” Anakin says, as he and Ben both turn to face her, their brows furrowed in confusion and concern, “Ahsoka, you don’t know anything either? She’s your best friend.”

“I- I know nothing. And I hate it.” She confesses to the boys, the air growing thick as Anakin uncomfortably shifts in his seat, and Ben sighs.

“I think I’m gonna try to talk to her.” Anakin stands slowly as Ben raises a brow and leans back in his chair, closing his eyes.

“Anakin, no offense, but I doubt she’ll want to talk to you,” Ahsoka murmured, avoiding his scowl.

“Well,” he pushes the chair behind him, walking towards the gate. “We’ll see!”

Curled up in the Papasan chair on the porch, you lit the joint between your fingers and watched as the lights in your neighbor's windows turned off. Your thoughts drifted from Nick and onto the childhood you missed dearly—so many snowball fights on the street before you, bike rides, and scraped knees. You remember the Johnsons across the street particularly not liking Anakin, so you and Ahsoka egged their house, only to backfire and get Anakin in trouble. You confessed to doing it, and no one believed you. It had to be Anakin. But for some strange reason, he never cared. He accepted the punishment, mowed their yard for a year, and never brought it up to you, no matter how many times you apologized. And every apology that slipped from between your lips was met with a grin.

And that time in 7th grade when Ahsoka really got into it with Julie down the street. She never liked Ahsoka and always found a way to get under her skin. However, this time was particularly awful. When you found Ahsoka, she was sobbing on the corner while Julie laughed at her, calling her pathetic, telling her that even her adopted parents didn’t love her and that her big brother wasn’t there to save her now. But you were. You pushed Julie onto the grass so fucking hard, only for her to get back up and swing. Ahsoka screamed for you to stop, but a newfound rage took over as you pounded into Julie’s face. She ended up on the pavement with a broken nose, and you ended the fight with a fractured wrist and grounded for a month (Only a month because your mom found out who you fought and what she said). Anakin was waiting for Ben to return from tennis and heard the commotion. He ran down the street, finding Ahsoka sobbing, Julie on the pavement, bloody and teary, and you sitting on the corner, shaking and clutching your throbbing wrist in your hand. He instantly asked Ahsoka what happened before making his way to you, holding your wrist, picking you up, and taking you and Ahsoka back to your house. Your mom called Julie’s mom and talked about what happened, and fortunately, Julie confessed to everything. And that’s when you found out her parents were going through a nasty divorce, and Julie was starting therapy. And surprisingly, she actually grew into a really decent, respectable person.

The four of you had always done everything together. You had always been inseparable. And when you left, it tore that apart. You left a hole in Brookline, and you knew it as well as they did. Even though they swore they were happy for you, moving on and doing more, you could see in their eyes that they selfishly did not want you to leave. They didn’t like the years of friendship to be put on hold just like that. And, of course, you felt guilty about it all, but you thought you needed to get out of Brookline. You assumed you wanted something bigger than Boston, bigger than you, bigger than those childhood friends. And two years later, you realize just how naïve you were. Those were your lifelong friends; your life was in Boston, and your dream school was there, too. You missed them more than you could ever envision, and the guilt ate at you every single fucking day. And you wished that 19-year-old you had just stayed. Things would be so much simpler if you had stayed. You let some pathetic man in Hampton tell you that it was just you and him- forever. And you knew deep down your 19-year-old naive self didn’t believe a fucking word he said- she just wished she did.

“Oh, that’s not a cigarette.” Your eyes flicker up from the street and towards a drunken Anakin leaning against the patio rail in front of you. His lips were curled into a mischievous smile, his hair curly and messy.

“No,” You lean forward, handing him the joint, “No, it’s not.”

“So,” He took a quick draw from the joint, flicking it against the deck railing as he looked back at you and smiled, “You just got here, and you’re already running from us? What’s up with that?”

You scoff, snatching the joint from him and leaning back in the chair.

“Just wanted some alone time, is all.” You avoid his gaze, and it’s his turn to scoff, plopping himself next to you in the chair.

“Yeah, because you’ve been so fond of that your entire life. I don’t believe you.”

“And? Never said I cared that you did.” You quickly retorted, earning an eyebrow raise and a smirk.

“Relax,” he said, snatching the joint back from you and holding it hostage. “Talk to me. It’s just us.” His hand met yours; his gaze was intense and empathetic.

You weren’t sure why you wanted to tell him. It was probably the weed mixed with a bit of liquid courage, but in that moment, you needed to get it out. He was so welcoming, holding your hand and offering you the comfort you needed in that moment. Was it pure manipulation? Possibly. But you knew Anakin loved you just as much as you loved him, and you knew you could trust him. He had kept your secrets before, so what’s another one? However, none of those other secrets typically included an abusive relationship; it was mainly about Ben and Ahsoka. You gripped his hand back, watching his eyes soften and his lips curve into a small smile.

“Just-” You started, dropping your voice into a low murmur, “Please don’t tell anyone.”

“I won’t.” He looked into your eyes like he would die to protect your secret. That was precisely what you needed to see.

“Nick- uh- sorry,” You sniffled, rubbing your eyes as you searched for the right words. “He- uh- he hurt me—a lot. I barely made it out of that relationship in one piece. I think my breaking point was when I asked him to visit for your grandma’s funeral, and he knocked me out. I woke up in my bathtub, my face covered in my blood, and he was gone. I applied to MIT that morning. The day after I got in, I packed everything I could and left. He’s blocked on everything, and he hasn’t attempted to reach out in any sort of way. Anakin- I don’t know what would have happened to me if I didn’t leave.”

Your eyes met Anakin’s glossy ones as your hands shook underneath his touch. He crooked his head to the side, bringing you in for a much-needed hug. You let yourself cry softly in his arms, feeling his shaky hands rub in slow motions up and down your back, his other hand stroking the top of your scalp.

But when he looked back at you, the softness in his gaze had disappeared. His fists clenched at his side, his eyebrows furrowed as he bit his lip in frustration.

“A-Anakin?”

“Y/N, why didn’t you tell anybody? We would’ve come to help! We could have put that piece of shit in jail by now!” He stands up abruptly, pinching the bridge of his nose and sighing deeply.

“I-I’m sorry- I-” You stutter, your mind racing as he paces before you. His eyes meet yours, and he points at you as your heartbeat accelerates.

“Y/N, I swear to god- I’m gonna kill that motherfucker. He’s fucking dead. I don’t care what hap-” He stops momentarily, cut off by your sobs from the chair. Fuck. He’s yelling at a domestic violence victim- no- he’s yelling at you. What a fucking asshole.

“HeyHeyHeyHey-” He’s quickly on his knees in front of you, shushing and brushing your hair out of your face, “I’m so fucking sorry- that was so selfish of me to do. I shouldn’t have said or done any of that. You opened up to me, and I yelled at you.. that will never happen again, okay? Why don’t we get you to bed?” He held your hands in his, searching your red eyes for an answer as you quickly nodded.

“Okay, I’m gonna go say goodnight to everyone, you just hold tight here. Sound good?” You nodded once again, and he giggled. “Words, sweetheart. I need you to say something.”

“That’s what I want, Ani. Bed.” You mumble out, forming your lips into a sad smile. His heart broke at the sight of you.

The second the back gate opened back up, Ben and Ahsoka immediately shot out of their chairs at the sight of Anakin. Their interrupted conversation suddenly had no meaning as he entered, taking a quick seat next to them.

“She’s- uh- she’s pretty upset. And fucked up. I’m gonna take her to bed.” He sighed, running his fingers through his hair as Ben and Ahsoka looked at him, puzzled.

“Well, what happened? Is she okay? Does she need help?” Ahsoka frantically broke the silence, asking the questions she and Ben were both thinking.

“Listen, she’s in rough shape right now. I’m just gonna get her to sleep, and I’ll tell you guys all about it. I don’t even know if she’s done talking about it. I’ll be right back.”

“Y/N?” He calls out your name as he steps on the other side of the gate, jogging up the front porch to see you passed out in the chair, joint hanging loosely from your fingers.

Amused, he grabs the roach from your fingers and casually tosses it off the porch, letting out a small laugh. Clearly, you didn't waste any time before drifting off to sleep. All the crying and weed must have done something. As he crouches down beside you, he tenderly brushes your hair, his eyes filled with adoration as he looks at your sleeping figure.

“I’m so sorry about everything,” He tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear, sighing softly, “I know you’re going to hate me for what I’m gonna do. Just please know it’s in your best interest. I care about you so much.” He bites his lip in thought, his eyes searching your figure.

As he rises to his feet, he effortlessly swipes your phone and tucks it away, his eyes briefly glancing at your water bottle. With a tender gesture, he reaches his arms beneath you, drawing you close to his chest and ensuring the blanket envelops you snugly as he lifts you from the chair. Your head is cradled against his chest, his hand wrapped around your waist and under your knees.

Anakin carried you gently up the stairs of your house, each step creaking under the weight of his feet. Passing through the familiar corridors, he reached your bedroom door and pushed it open, immediately being overwhelmed by the alluring scent of your space. As he laid you down on your bed, he couldn't help but notice how little the room had changed since you left, the same photos on the walls and the same worn-out rug. Your mom kept everything intact, probably hoping you’d come back eventually. He filled your water bottle, plugged your phone in, left some medicine on your nightstand, and tucked you in tightly. Just as he turned on the fan and kissed your forehead goodnight, your eyes fluttered open to meet with his, and you gave him a sleepy smile.

“Ani?” You mumbled, watching as his smile grew above you.

“Hey, sweetheart, feeling pretty sleepy, huh?”

“Mhm,” You stretched your arms out momentarily as you yawned. “I’m sorry I dropped all of that on you earlier. And I’m just- I’m sorry about it all. I feel so-”

“Y/N,” He gets on his knees next to you, the warmth in his eyes matching the tender smile on his lips, “You don’t need to apologize for a thing. I’m always here. And so are Ben and Ahsoka. We got you. You take as much time as you need to process, recover, and do whatever you need to, okay? It’s about you, Y/N/N, don’t worry about us.” You giggle and nod at his words, your eyes attempting to flutter shut. He laughs at your exhaustion, ruffling up the hair on your head. “Sleep well, okay? I’ll be here if you need me.”

He closes your door and leans against the door frame, exhaling heavily as he tries to make sense of everything that happened throughout the night. How could someone be so fucking despicable to do this to you? His girl. His fists clenched tightly at his waist, his eyes burning with rage as he vividly imagined the torment you endured. He tried not to let his mind go there. He really did. Resting against your bedroom door, vivid visions of you, covered in blood and pleading for help, overwhelmed him, plunging him into a downward spiral. And in a moment of weakness, he did exactly what he promised he wouldn’t do.

“She was abused. Badly.”

“WHAT?”

Ben and Ahsoka jump from their seats on the porch, rushing towards Anakin as he angrily makes his way from the house onto the deck.

“That fucking piece of shit!” Ben shouts, punching his fist against the side of the house while Ahsoka tries to calm Anakin down, asking him for more details.

“Okay, Anakin, I need you to give me more than just ‘abused.’ I know you have details.” Ahsoka sputtered while she held the sides of his arms, guiding him over to the table to sit down while Ben paced behind them.

“It was that asshole she was dating for the past two years- Nick. The one we conveniently never met, which I’m sure was on purpose. She didn’t tell me much other than that if she didn’t leave when she did, she could’ve- well- she- it just wouldn’t have ended well.”

Anakin's words hung in the air, creating a thick silence that was almost tangible with tension. Anakin's throat tightened as he locked eyes with Ben and Ahsoka, their glossy gazes reflecting their shared pain. Ben found a spot at the table, deep in thought, as he absentmindedly stroked his chin, his eyes devoid of any emotion. Ahsoka carefully finished the last of her wine, the cling! of it ringing out as the glass met the table one last time.

“Well-” Ben tried to start, cut off by his sudden sobs. He pushed his head on the table, covering his face from Ahsoka and Anakin as he attempted to take deep breaths, processing the information he had just learned. In an effort to hold back tears, Anakin bit his lip, his hand trembling as he rubbed the back of his neck, his eyes squeezed shut tightly. As she silently wept, Ahsoka soothingly rubbed Ben's back, hoping to ease his pain.

“I just- I should have known.” She mumbled, picking the cat's hair off of the back of Ben’s sweater.

“There’s no way you could’ve, Snips.”

“It’s just that- I thought it was odd when she suddenly asked me to pick up her cat. Saying she couldn’t take care of him and that it was an emergency. I never even met Nick, and she wouldn’t let me stay at the apartment long. I hardly saw her. So many fucking red flags..” she trailed off, feeling her head hurt at the thought.

“Ahsoka, it’s okay.” Ben sniffled, lifting his head off the table as his red eyes met Anakin’s. “There is no one at fault here other than Nick.”

"Exactly," Anakin paused momentarily at his comment, his eyes widening. “Guys, she made me promise I wouldn’t tell you. Considering everything, I think we should wait until she opens up. Even though it hurts, the last thing I’d want to do is hurt her anymore.”

“Yeah,” Ben whispers, and Ahsoka nods, holding onto each other as they try to calm down.

“We should get to bed, guys. It’s 3:30.” Anakin mumbles as he stands up and stretches, offering his hand to Ahsoka. “We’ll see you soon, Ben. Get some rest.”

As he lay in bed, Anakin’s mind wandered off to you. How could it not? Besides being your best friend, he always looked for more in you. The knowledge weighed heavily on him, and he despised himself because of it. To him, you were his world, his everything. Always. And hearing/seeing how hurt you were? It fucking destroyed him. So, he let himself cry. He allowed himself to feel those emotions for you, and he always had buried them deep down. Instead, he buried his face in his pillow and soaked it with his tears. His admiration for you would never falter, and neither would his protectiveness. He felt as if a part of him failed, and as a result, his guard was down. He felt the desire to love you and keep you safe increased, knowing that getting the chance to do so may destroy him inside and out.

And it didn’t help that you lost your virginities to each other. Sharing such a unique, intimate moment with the person he always knew was the one, well, that just really fucked things. Literally. There wasn't a moment when he wasn't haunted by the memories of that night; it was a constant presence in his mind. And then he got with Padme, and you left for Virginia, and things got so lost and confused, and life moved on. You moved on. He tried to. But he searched for you in everyone and everything. Padme knew it, he knew it, fuck, his mother probably knew it! He’s just thankful Ben doesn’t know it. As much as he hated to say it, Anakin knew he would have gone back in time to do anything to change that moment. Because now you’re here, and his feelings have only intensified. Feelings that should have left a long, long time ago. And yet, as he cried himself to sleep, he continued to dream of you, just like every night before.

Please let me know if you wish to be tagged!

Series tags: @w0rsh1psells @ursogorgeous13 @tommyvelvet @mistress-amidala @queenofnigthdarkness @nikkissecretlibrary @doblasftcisco @ann4zw @catachlysmicjedi @googie-jeon @xoxo-hayden-fangurl-xoxo @anakinstwinklebunny

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gloomwitchwrites · 11 months ago

Text

Say Yes

Bounty Hunter Boba Fett x Female Reader

Content & Trigger Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): fluff, heavy suggestive themes, protective!Boba, Mandalorian!Boba, light angst, non-descriptive sex

Word Count: 2.5k

A young, handsome bounty hunter on Tatooine makes it a daily intention to ask you to marry him.

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // fluffuary 2024 masterlist

Mando’a Translations: cyar’ika – darling / sweetheart riduur – partner / spouse “Mhi solus tome, mhi solus dar'tome, mhi me'dinui an, mhi ba'juri verde” – marriage vows

“Marry me, cyar’ika.”

You glance up from the worn open tome resting on the counter in front of you. “Again? Really, Boba?”

The Mandalorian helmet, dented with flaking green paint, tilts slightly to the right. “You called me ‘Boba’ this time,” teases the bounty hunter.

You roll your eyes and push off from the counter, cheeks heating even as you grumble in false irritation.

Boba Fett, Jabba the Hutt’s favorite mercenary for hire, has asked you to marry him every day for several weeks now. And each time, you have refused him. For the first few, you were overly polite. But as his attempts continued, your polite rejections transformed into snarky quips and blatant dismissals.

It’s not like you don’t find the man attractive. Underneath the armor is an incredibly handsome man, and his attention has always been sincere. But Boba Fett is a dangerous man, and you’re just a simple shopkeeper trying to make a living in Mos Espa. In that regard, the two of you are incompatible no matter how much he persists and chases after you.

“I like how you say my name,” continues Boba, his voice a soft purr. “Sounds beautiful on your tongue.”

“And you are too forward,” you snap, knowing that your sharpness is just a cover. Which is silly, because you do like him, and Boba seems to understand this. Boba burrows beneath your skin, and you cannot dig him out.

“Am I?” he asks with mock offense. You really want to throttle him, but you also really want to kiss him.

“Yes. I don’t know how many times I have to say this, Fett,” you emphasize, deliberately using his last name. “But a ‘no’ is a ‘no’ even if you don’t like it.”

Yep. Push him away. Keep pushing. Maybe he’ll take the hint this time.

Boba Fett stands tall, arms crossed over his chest, one hip slightly popped. With the helmet on, you have no idea what his expression might be or what he’s feeling. Not knowing is maddening, and it quickens your heartbeat, a growing tingle buzzing in the tips of your fingers.

“So, all those touches meant nothing to you?” he asks with just the faintest hint of roughness in his tone.

“Yes,” you lie.

Boba shifts on his feet, shoulders straightening. “What about all the kisses you’ve given me? Hm? Nothing?”

Kriffing hell, why is this man always so direct? It’s nice that Boba is good about telling you what he wants and what he’s thinking for the most part, but it always catches you off-guard. It makes you weak, melting you into goo that he can mold however he wishes.

“Those are not enough to build a marriage, Boba,” you shrug. “There has to be more.”

“But there is more.” He steps around the counter, stepping into your space. “Isn’t there?”

Boba is right. There is more. There has always been more. Whenever Boba is on Tatooine, he is visiting you, talking with you, bringing you gifts, fixing things around the shop without you having to ask. He has offered to take you out after you’ve closed shop. He routinely takes a personal interest in your safety and security. Because of that, no one bothers you or tries to harass additional credits out of you. They stay away and respect you because they see you as Boba’s woman.

And it isn’t only that. He only ever speaks softly to you. He only ever treats you with respect and shows general interest in your life. The most maddening thing is how many women have actively shown their interest in him to his face, and he has brushed them all aside. Even after all these refusals on your end, Boba still declines their advances, and shows up at your shop each day insisting that you marry him.

“Why do you keep denying this, cyar’ika? You know I’d make you happy.” Boba is standing too close, almost on top of you.

“The shop is closed,” you reply. “If you’re not going to make a purchase, you should leave.”

Boba nods his head and backs up, reaching for an item off the shelf without looking. He deposits some credits on the counter, much more than what the item is actually worth.

“I’ll return tomorrow,” he says over his shoulder, tapping the counter as he makes his exit.

The soft chime that alerts you to when the front door opens echoes throughout the room.

You’re in the backroom organizing. It’s the next day, and Boba hasn’t shown himself yet. This might be him, but it’s likely not. There are times when Boba does not come, and you are fully aware that those are times when Jabba sends him off for a job.

“Sorry. We’re closed.” You step out from the backroom and immediately freeze.

Three Nikto bikers loiter in the middle of the shop. It’s evident that they are not here to purchase anything. Their dark eyes roam over the shelves and tables, but once they notice you, they focus in, drawing closer.

“Apologies,” you say, attempting to project your voice, to sound tougher than you are. “We’ve closed for the evening. If there is something you need right away, I can ring you up. Otherwise, you’ll need to leave.” You do your best to keep your voice steady and calm, but you hear the gentle shake.

“This street is our new territory,” hisses the leader of the group. “We were stopping by to offer our…services.”

Services, meaning protection, meaning “pay us or you’ll be a target.”

Tatooine might be overrun with crime lords and criminal activity, but the main powers at play are not known to harass the smaller folks just trying to make a living. These are outliers. These are individuals who answer to no one but themselves, and believe they can carve a piece out for their own gain.

Rarely are they ever successful, but that doesn’t mean they don’t try.

Just as you open your mouth to reply, the soft chime comes again. This time everyone turns and you sigh with relief when you see who it is.

“Boba Fett,” says the Nikto slowly. His shoulders stiffen and they all put their hands on their blasters.

The bounty hunter does no answer right away. His helmet moves, scanning the Nikto, and then you, assessing. Even from across the shop, you sense Boba’s anger. There are few things that rile him up, but you’re one of them.

“It’s not smart moving in on Jabba’s territory. Or to harass what’s mine.” When Boba says mine, he growls it. The possessiveness in his tone heats your flesh, sends a sharp spike of desire down to your belly.

The Nikto all glance at each other before the leader addresses Fett. “We didn’t know the female was yours, Boba.” He holds his hands out in a placating gesture, indicating that he didn’t mean any harm. Yet you know that isn’t true. Their intention from the start was to harass you for credits.

You scoff at female but decide to let it go.

“I think it’s best that you leave.” Boba steps to the side.

The duo glance at their leader for direction. The Nikto’s features are impassive, but he eventually inclines his head, exiting as Boba insist they do. When the last one leaves, Boba momentarily glances in your direction. The door stands open, and Boba exits with him.

When it whooshes shut, you sprint over to the wall panel, immediately engaging the lock and shuttering the windows. You stand in the silent shop for a few minutes trying to calm your heartrate. Once it’s manageable, and not beating so hard it might burst from your chest, you head upstairs to your small apartment above the shop.

By the time you’re curled up in bed, you’re no longer anxious, but there is the slightest bit of tension that lingers in your limbs. Sighing, you turn over in the bed, only to hear the brief pulse of a jetpack shutting off and boots on the small balcony outside your bedroom window.

Slowly, you push up to sitting, the bedsheets falling to your waist. You know it’s Boba. He does this some nights. Camps out and protect you in the only way he knows how because you’re too stubborn to take him up on his numerous marriage proposals.

Tonight, it’s obvious as to why he’s out there. Part of you is reluctant to leave him outside. You’d prefer it if he were with you, within arm’s reach, to see him without the helmet. Plus, nights on Tatooine can grow cold. You want him inside where it’s warm.

On quiet feet, you go to the door that leads outside. Opening it silently, you stick your head out into the chilly air, finding Boba as he leans against the exterior wall, arms crossed.

“You should be in bed, cyar’ika,” chides Boba playfully.

You swallow, suddenly nervous now that you’re confronting him. “Do you want to come inside?” you ask, a bit hesitantly.

Maybe it’s the uncertainty in your tone, or the way you shrink back a bit into the interior of the room, because Boba is suddenly alert, all of his attention attuned to you.

Boba immediately pushes off from the wall and approaches you, his hand on the door, pushing it wider. “Are you hurt? Did one of them touch you?”

You shake your head vehemently. “No. I’m fine. Promise.”

Boba’s chest heaves slightly but you’re not sure if it’s from his sudden movement or a releasing of relief. He glances over his shoulder at Mos Espa, the t-shaped visor of his helmet fixated on the city’s skyline. Turning back, Boba nods.

You step away from the door and Boba enters. Even with the door closed and the windows’ shutters slanted to dim the moonlight, some of it still spills over the room like tiny white rivers.

His helmet hisses as the pressure seal disengages. Slowly, Boba lifts the helmet off his head and sets it aside on a nearby table. He runs his fingers through his dark hair, the ends sticking up slightly after he does so. With the faintest movement, Boba turns, and that moonlight cuts sharp glowing lines over his face, highlighting tanned skin and dark eyes.

You don’t even realize you’re moving closer to him until Boba grabs you by the waist and pulls you against his armor-clad body. Instinctively, your hands reach out, locking onto the beskar. Boba’s head dips and yours rises to meet him automatically, and yet there is no connection. It is simply holding, a waiting between two hesitant people.

“You haven’t asked me to marry you today,” you murmur.

The corner of Boba’s lips turns upward in a soft smile. “Will you marry me, cyar’ika?”

“No,” you say automatically, before the two of you start laughing.

“Let’s try that again.” Boba reaches up and cradles your cheek. “Cyar’ika. Will you marry me? Will you allow me to speak the words of my people? And will you speak them back?”

The words of his people. The Mandalorian marriage vows. You are distinctly aware of what they are and what they mean. Which is why Boba’s earnestness isn’t fake to you. Mandalorians take their weddings vows seriously even though the process of exchange is simple. It is the intention behind the exchange that is most important to them.

That is how you know Boba speaks the truth, that him asking you to marry him is a genuine desire of his.

“Passion does not make a relationship,” you reply.

The answer is a shift away from actually having to answer. How many times have you and Boba ended up on the floor of the backroom after rejecting him? It’s more than you can count on your hands.

“That’s all this is to you?” he laughs. “You know I can give you more. I do more than that now.”

You curl forward a bit, rest your forehead against the beskar. “I’m scared,” you whisper.

“Of what?”

“Of what will change.”

Boba’s fingers brush under your chin and lightly guide your gaze back to his. “I wouldn’t ask you to give anything up.”

“Yes, but—”

Boba gives the slightest shake of his head and you instantly quiet. “Do you want me?” he asks. “Tell the truth.”

“Yes.”

“Yes, what?”

“I want you,” you breathe, allowing the words to drip off your tongue.

“May I have one of your kisses?” he asks softly, one gloved thumb lightly pressing down on your bottom lip.

“Yes,” you breathe.

Boba closes the distance, forms perfectly to you. It is slow and delicate and sweet. Your body hums with energy, and when you press for more, Boba growls and pulls back, hastily ripping off his gloves to reveal his bare hands.

Then he’s cupping the side of your face, drawing you back to him, tasting and tasting and tasting until your fingers are clawing at him in desperation. When he breaks the kiss, you still lean forward as if you can reach him.

“Then repeat the words with me, cyar’ika. Become my riduur.”

Boba presses his lips to yours, draws forth an air-stealing shiver from deep within your lungs.

“Mhi solus tome.”

“Mhi solus tome,” you repeat.

We are one together.

Boba slides an arm around your waist to drape softly over your curves. “Mhi solus dar’tome,” he says.

You say it back to him. “Mhi solus dar’tome.”

We are one when parted.

“Mhi me’dinui an.”

We share all.

This time, Boba slots his pelvis against yours, and you understand his heated intention.

“Mhi ba’juri verde.”

“Mhi ba’juri verde,” you say with shaky breath.

We will raise warriors.

Boba snuggles the side of your neck, breathes in your scent. “I’d like to lay with my riduur.” His fingers find the edge of your sleeping robes.

“As long as I can have my riduur the same way.”

Boba grins against your throat. Together, the two of you remove his armor, piece by piece by piece. The moment his flightsuit is unzipped and he steps out of it, Boba is on you, drawing your lips to his, desperately claiming what is now so rightfully his.

Your own clothes are gone before making it to the bed. Boba runs his hands over your back, sliding down to lift you into his arms. Your legs wrap around his middle, and Boba carries you off, placing you gently onto your back.

His mouth upon your skin is a brand. Hot. Searing. It goes lower, lower still until you’re crying out for him, begging for him to be with you as your riduur should. Boba is happy to do so, sliding between your thighs so perfectly, you both lose yourselves momentarily before becoming nothing but a raging storm, waves crashing into each other repeatedly until one of you breaks.

Rest does not come until the morning suns begin to ascend over the horizon. You do not open your shop. And Boba does not return to Jabba’s palace.

There is peace for a while.

Harmony.

taglist:

@padawancat97 @foxxy-126 @glassgulls @km-ffluv @sweetbutpsychobutsweet @singleteapot @garfunklevibes2012 @tiredmetalenthusiast @childofyuggoth @coffeecaketornado @kayden666 @cherryofdeath @enfppixie @ninman82 @no-oneelsebutnsu @beebeechaos

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cowboygenesis · 3 months ago

Text

1/2 fatum invenit | gale x reader

part 1 of the "fatum" mini-series.

summary: you've loathed each other since the dawn of his first arrival. it never should've worked, but somehow, as you find yourself chest-to-chest within a sunken crypt with no way out, your feelings finally surface— and Gods, do they cut deep.

pairing: gale dekarios x sorceress!durge!reader tags: fluff, angst, tons of cursing, mutual pining, forced proximity, enemies/rivals to lovers. word count: 5.3k notes: whew, here we are at last. if you've read "knuckle up" you might find the ending a little similar but... what can i say, im a softie. also, the durge aspect of the reader is truly very minimal, i just added it for the sake of flavor, whatevah... oh, and reader is super cheeky and generally curses a lot, im case that's something that bothers you. i want this to be a two-parter eventually, so expect some smut in the future chapter. as always, let me know what you think! enjoy! masterlist.

You… you fucking knew it. The one time in your life you decide to give a wizard the benefit of the doubt he… he screws you the fuck over.

It was supposed to be an easy job: infiltrate Kereska’s chapel, retrieve the relic Raphael demanded, and slip away unnoticed. Hey, no big deal— you’ve handled worse without breaking a sweat.

Most of your companions weren’t so eager to take on the devil’s dirty work after a night of drinking, so, you figured you’d tackle it solo. No problem. After all, you’d just returned home to Baldur’s Gate. The evening was warm, the streets thrummed with energy, and after a night of revelry, you were in a damn good mood.

So when Gale, with his calm, holier-than-thou attitude, offered to “assist,” you’d thought sure, why the Hells not?

And what a mistake that would turn out to be for you. Just as your gut had warned you, things ended up going sideways. All because of him.

You both had made it past the wards, the traps, and even those fucked up, undead necromancers that you hated dealing with—no thanks to Gale’s constant commentary on your spellcasting techniques. It was always some remark about how your magic was “undisciplined,” how you were “too reckless to be at your best.” Fuck, like you hadn’t been doing this shit for years, now.

Warranted, you weren’t exactly the nicest person, either. Meals at your camp were a battlefield of their own, filled with biting comments and passive-aggressive stares, often over trivial matters that had nothing to do with magic.

Plus, combat was no different. It rarely took more than a few minutes before you and Gale were mired in a heated debate over the “best course of action for the situation”. Naturally, these debates only added to the tension, making every encounter feel like a personal clash as opposed to a friendly discussion over technique.

You two were polar opposites, discordant, incompatible.

But you were an idiot, then. A dumb, tender-hearted idiot in a great mood who had hoped you two could eventually get along if the stars aligned just right. But that’s all hindsight.

After all the hard work, you had almost had it— your hand was just within reach of that damned necklace, caution thrown to the wind, when Gale decided to get fancy. A small “adjustment” to the magical aura surrounding the relic, he’d explained— something about minimizing risk and stabilizing the flow of the Weave so you could extract it safely.

You discarded the idea, of course; “fuck your tricks,” you had said (your actual words), rolled your eyes at him, and said goodbye to the remnants of your good mood as he reprimanded you like a teacher would a novice— and that, naturally, you weren’t.

Unlike him, you didn’t need a stack of tomes to inspectthis kind of arcane energy. It felt powerful and intricate, yes— but beneath it all, it was just a trick of the eye. The glowing, golden-tinged sphere wasn’t malevolent whatsoever, and instead served as a cheap ploy to repel those tempted by the artifact.

So, knowing what you knew, you reached for the relic despite his suggestion.

But, just as you were to lay a finger on it, he… he cast his fucking “safety” spell. And everything went to hell.

The forcefield around the necklace reacted— wildly. The air rippled in waves, the ground shifting beneath you, and suddenly, you were trapped in some kind of collapsed chamber beneath the chapel— cut off from the rest of the world, with no way out.

Worst of all, you were in heartbreaking proximity. The dugout was deep, but narrow, allowing you maybe a centimeter of privacy before your chest collided with his. And Gods, did that happen often. Any movement you made, your bodies would collide in one way or another, be it feeling his thigh rub against yours, grazing fingers, or smacking his chin— the last one being a complete accident on your part, of course.

And yes, as two magic-wielders would, you tried your luck. As it turned out, the stone binding your bodies together seemed to have a sort of Weave-repellent property that rendered your only functional skills worthless.

So, here you were, stuck with your arch-rival, and with every passing second, your frustration grew. It must have been half an hour since the disaster struck when you finally felt your head pound with frustration.

“Gale,” you sigh for the millionth time, “Are you even listening?”

He’s been doing a great job ignoring your commentary by seemingly occupying himself with analyzing your surroundings. Smart, sure, if it wasn’t for the simple fact he refused to collaborate with you whatsoever. After your initial scream-off, he seemed reluctant to give you the time of day again.

He finally clears his throat to speak, and you shoot him a glare in the dim light.

"You just had to do your thing, didn’t you?" he sighs.

“And you just had to show off,” you retort through a bitter snark.

Gale glances at you with narrowed eyes, yet his expression remains infuriatingly contained. “I was trying to prevent a catastrophe. If I hadn’t intervened, the entire chapel may have collapsed.”

“Well, congratulations,” you snap, “It collapsed on us instead. I’m so glad we avoided a disaster, Gale.”

He exhales slowly, then gives you a haphazard eye-roll. “Perhaps if you hadn’t rushed things—”

“Rushed things?” Your chest flares, making it collide with his. “I didn’t touch a damned thing. You’re the one who decided the Weave needed tuning or whatever other bullshit.”

Gale’s eyes narrow, a flash of frustration crossing his face. “You think I did this on purpose? I made the right choice. But you—”

“Oh, so it’s my fault now?” You cut him off, “Honestly, fuck you, man. If you were half as concerned with doing a good job as you are with peacocking we wouldn’t even be here in the first place.”

He looks away, his jaw tightening. “Peacocking?”

“Yeah. Peacocking, showing off—Are you okay? I thought you were supposed to be the clever one.” You shrug in mock nonchalance, rolling your eyes as if the circumstances weren’t already driving you up the wall.

You feel Gale’s chest rise and fall with a steadying breath, the sort one might take when trying to stop themselves from saying something they’ll inevitably regret. When it came to containing his bubbling rage, he beat you to it every time.

His casual lilt, when it comes, makes your teeth grit. “Obviously.”

You groan loudly, letting the back of your head thud against the stone wall behind you. A tense silence falls between you, broken only by the steady rhythm of his breathing, a sound that seems to grow louder in the small space whenever conversation dies down.

“You would’ve been buried stone-cold dead under the rubble if I hadn’t cast that spell,” he mutters, and just like that, your patience snaps.

“I— I can’t believe you’re saying this to me,” Your words are sharp as daggers, eyes burning into his as you twist your body just enough to face him head-on. “The barrier was a ruse, Gale. A fake. I told you not to cast that damn spell—”

“And I suppose explanations are beneath someone of your obvious talents,” he snaps back, his words dripping with venom.

You glare at him, feeling your pulse quicken. “You’re a scholar— Gods, don’t you know this kind of illusory magic is Kereska’s whole thing?” you spit, watching his face aptly in hopes of catching a glimpse of something; remorse, sympathy, fuck, even just a bit of pity would satiate you.

But it never comes. His eyes bore into you with practiced reprimanding, and because he must see you on the precipice of breaking down, he continues to poke the metaphorical bear. “You should’ve waited.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, I must’ve missed the part where you became the authority on everything. In case you somehow overlooked it, I’ve been doing this for years without your lectures.”

“And look how well that’s worked out for you,” he retorts, his voice low, treacherous. There’s a mocking smile imbued on his face, and you quickly realize it makes you want to tackle him to the ground and claw it out yourself. If it wasn’t for the minimal space, you probably would’ve even attempted it. “This wasn’t some petty street magic. That relic was infused with layers of defense—complex protections you clearly didn’t even account for—”

“I knew what I was dealing with!” you hiss, pushing against the wall for leverage. You brush against his chest again, sending an electric jolt of tension through the confined space. “I didn’t need your over-calculated, pompous meddling. I had it under control until you—”

“Under control?” Gale’s voice rises, his frustration finally splintering through his quiet facade as he emits a burst of scornful laughter. “Do you even hear yourself? Your recklessness nearly got us killed!”

You scoff, pushing back even harder. “You’re so damn smug— acting like the world will end if you don’t micromanage every little detail, but guess what? You don’t always have the answer. And right now, we’re stuck— all because of your fucking arrogance.”

He opens his mouth to reply, but then closes it, jaw tight, eyes blazing as he holds your gaze. For a second, you think he’s about to let loose another lecture, but instead, there’s silence—a strange, electricity-charged stillness that envelops you like a cold breeze.

You can’t speak. It crackles between you with a strain, thick enough to feel suffocating. Every breath you take only draws you closer to him, and somehow, it almost feels like the walls enveloping you have only grown thicker throughout your argument.

The closeness, the heat, the sheer intensity of the argument—it’s all too much, and yet, neither of you looks away once your gazes inevitably connect.

The wizard licks his bottom lip languidly, lips smacking as he seems to be taking you all in. His eyes scan over you, and somehow the fact makes you feel vulnerable.

Finally, he breaks the peace.

“If I’m so arrogant, why did you let me join you?”

His eyes are dark, but not just with frustration; they’re searching, questioning, as though he’s daring you to give an honest answer, knowing it’s something you can’t afford yourself right now.

“You asked me to let you come,” you bark out, pushing his chest with the heel of your hand, the contact sending a spark of heat through your outstretched arm. “I didn’t want you here. I figured we’d get through this, grab the necklace, and go our separate ways again. But no—you wanted to come. Play the hero, do all the dirty work, whatever your reasoning was.”

Gale doesn’t flinch at your words, but his eyes narrow slightly— they flicker to the space your bodies connect at, then back to your tautened face.

His gaze lingers on where your hand presses against his chest, and for a fleeting moment, you think he might back down. But instead, his jaw clenches, and when his eyes snap back to yours, there’s a fire behind them that ignites something deep in your gut.

“And you agreed,” he counters mockingly, the smile adorning his face making your head spin. “Why?”

The question hangs between you for a beat. You falter, mouth opening and closing without a reply.

He’s right. He’s fucking correct, and you hate it.

Why did you agree? You could’ve said no, barked back at him, insulted his stupid wizard frock— pushed him away with one of the countless options you had at your disposal.

But you didn’t. You let him come with you, willingly.

You clench your fists, pushing against the surge of discomfort bubbling in your belly. “Well, forgive me for being an optimist,” you mutter, voice tight. “I thought, for once, that maybe— Fuck. Maybe we could get through one fucking mission without trying to jump at each others’ throats.”

He exhales at your explanation, tilting his head to glance through the top of the crevasse and toward the chapel ceiling. You follow suit, albeit subtly, noticing the intricate engravings lining the skylight; in the dim light of the afternoon sun, they look elegant, beautiful, even. How didn’t you notice that when you first walked in?

“And how’s that going for us?” he asks suddenly, the smile curling at the edges of his mouth turning bitter.

You huff, running a hand through your hair. The condensation sticks to your fingers, and you can’t help the joyless chuckle that escapes your lips when you look at him again.

“Well, I don’t know,” you sigh, shrugging your shoulders lazily. Your cynical laughter shifts into the shadow of a smile. Somehow, as he glances down at you, you find yourself with a pang in your chest that overshadows the frustration you’ve been drowning in— it’s deep, and resonant, and feels like it’s swallowing your heart whole when his dark eyes meet yours. “We still hate each other.”

The wizard exhales sharply through his nose, and strangely, you can’t seem to read his expression even as your eyes squint.

His gaze is fixed on yours with an intensity that makes your pulse quicken; you feel it best when his hot breath hits the sweat-slicked skin of your face as he leans in. It’s a slight, almost imperceptible gesture, yet just enough to make your breath hitch with… rage, aversion— or perhaps, most frighteningly, something else you’ve been pushing down for months since your first quarrel.

You’re forcefully dragged out of your stupor when the pad of his thumb grazes your palm— the touch sends a sharp, almost uncomfortable jolt of electricity down your spine, leaving you speechless as you chalk it up to an unfortunate accident. Nothing more, it couldn’t be.

“I don’t hate you,” he says, and though his tone is stiff, the words cut through your pause like a skilled blade.

It couldn’t be.

Your breath catches in your parched throat, heart pounding with a force that would surely reverberate through his body hadn’t his robe been so thick.

You can feel the heat radiating off him, each shallow breath you take only drawing you closer— or, at least, that’s exactly how it feels in the tiny space you’re being forced to share.

His thumb is still brushing your palm, slowly, gently, and deliberately enough that you cannot ascribe it to a simple accident anymore. For a second, your eyebrows arch and there’s this urge to pull away, something thrumming in your head and telling you to hold to principle.

But you don’t… you— you physically can’t. Not when he’s gazing down at you with… with patience. Understanding, maybe. But why?

A beat passes, then another. The tension coils so tight you almost want to scream to break it, and his gaze remains locked on yours, his palm grazing yours.

You swallow hard, trying to gather your scattered thoughts, but your voice betrays you when you finally manage to speak, trembling, barely above a whisper.

“You—” Your throat feels tight, words failing you as his face remains inches from yours. "You’re fucking with me. I… you hate me, Gale, I can’t—"

He glances down at you with a strange glint in his eyes, then exhales loudly again. Did you strike a nerve?

“Why do you always do this?” he questions with exasperation tugging at his tone. You feel his touch momentarily drop from yours, and in the heat of the moment, you find yourself missing it.

“What?” you blink, eyebrows furrowed.

“This,” He gestures between the two of you with a frustrated sigh. “You’re— you’re always picking fights with me. Always pushing, always assuming the worst—”

“I’m picking fights?” Your eyes narrow, the sneer coming back to your lips like armor. “You’ve been criticizing every godsdamn thing I’ve done since day one, making me feel inferior, questioning my skill— and now I’m the one picking fights?”

He shakes his head sharply, then sighs in frustration. When you look up, his eyes are locked on yours—deep brown with flecks of gold, catching the fractured sunlight streaming through the cracked skylight. You could drown in them, given the chance.

“No, that’s not— That’s exactly what I’m talking about,” He stops himself, closing his eyes briefly before opening them again. “You don’t— you just refuse to listen to me. When we fight, in camp— even now. The relic, that barrier, you— Gods, you always act instead of—”

“Don’t you dare paint me as the villain now,” you snap, bumping his chest with the pad of your palm again.

“You almost got us killed!” he bites back, “I don’t care for your talents if it means you don’t utilize them properly. Have you ever stopped to think that maybe, just maybe, raw talent doesn’t equal capability?”

Right.

Your lips purse, the pit in your stomach suddenly overpowering your ability to retort. It was a mistake— you should have known the niceties were a convenient gimmick to ascertain his position over you, and not an actual instance of humanity, for once.

But somehow, your false hopes only drive the wrath within you. You let the nausea overcome you and have it fuel your bitter tone as you finally find the power to speak up again.

“All you care about is being right— about having the last word against anyone who dares question your abilities,” you mutter, challenging his stern gaze with your own, “And the rest of us? We’re just supposed to sit by and watch, grateful to be in the presence of Gale Dekarios, the great, tragic wizard who thought his tricks could satiate a fucking Goddess!”

You’re fuming. The words that come out of your throat are only half-baked as you shrill at him, but… but at the moment, it feels right— warranted, somehow.

So when you catch him give you the space to continue, you take it.

“…But the truth is, you need to feel superior. You need everyone to see you as the sleekest in the room because deep down, you’re still clinging to the ghost of a woman who abandoned you. And that’s why you’ve been picking me apart since day one—because I’m not afraid to tell you how full of shit you are.”

Suddenly, you feel his hand catch your wrist, his grip firm as he holds you still. His thumb presses lightly against your pulse, sending a sharp, unwanted jolt of awareness through your body as your arm tries to jerk away.

“You don’t know the first godsdamn thing about me,” Gale growls, his breath fanning your face as the words spill out, thick with venom. “You’re so wrapped up in your own insolence, so blinded by your stubborn pride, that all you can see in others is a reflection of yourself. And trust me when I say that it’s an ugly one.”

You laugh, a bitter, angry sound, but your heart is hammering now. “Oh, so you think you’ve got me all figured out?”

His jaw clenches, but his grip doesn’t waver. “I know enough. I know that your actions speak louder than words. I know that you’re reckless, impulsive, and too damned proud to admit when you need help—”

Your heart pounds in your chest, the heat between you scorching as your breaths mingle. “You’re such a fucking hypocrite. You’re the one who’s blinded by your own self-importance— always thinking you’re the wisest, savviest person in the room, like the rest of us are just pawns in your little fucking game.”

Gale’s eyes flash with something wild and uninhibited, and you watch his sneer shift into a bitter smile again.

“You— You really think that?” he questions through a chuckle, voice gravelly and low. “Do you really think I’m just using you for some game?”

For a heartbeat, neither of you moves. You sneer at him, and the outrage bubbles out again.

“Oh, don’t make me laugh. You’ve only ever looked out for yourself. This was never about helping me—it was… it was about proving something. To me, to yourself, to fucking Mystra,” you trail.

The moment the words leave your lips, the air shifts between you like a storm about to unravel. His grip on your wrist tightens, not painfully, but with a deliberate firmness that forces you to stop and feel the tension between you. His face is suddenly too close, and for the most succinct moment, you catch something flickering in his eyes—something dim, and dark—but not the rage you were expecting.

He should be angry with you— Hells, he should be furious. You just tore into every insecurity you knew he had, ripped open wounds that never quite healed, and worst of all, dragged his old lover into it all.

And yet… his gaze isn’t burning with the fever you’ve grown used to seeing from him in every argument, every fight.

Why the fuck isn’t he furious?

“Gods, I actually— I used to admire you. You know that? Before all this, I thought you were someone I could… I don’t know, respect. You were this brilliant, woeful man who carried the weight of the world on his shoulders, and I thought, ‘Maybe there’s something more underneath all that.’ I thought we could, I don’t know, actually be something—friends, allies, whatever the fuck. I wanted us to trust each other. But… but you…" your voice lowers to a near whisper, and somehow, unbeknownst to you, your eyes go glassy with hot tears.

You’re left reeling, heart hammering in your chest as your mind races along with your bitter confession. The air around you feels viscous, mucous-like, but when your throat goes dry with impending tears you look up to see something that makes your breath hitch.

He’s listening.

Not just waiting for his turn to speak as he usually does around you, not calculating his next clever retort, but listening— really, truly listening.

His gaze, once so sharp with ire, has softened. His dark eyes are fixed on yours with a vigor that nearly undoes you, and there’s no anger in them now, no resentment.

Your breath catches.

“You never gave me a chance, Gale. Not once. It was always about you, your guilt, your past, your Mystra— Fuck!” you cough out and rub your eyes with the pads of your palms, massaging your vulnerability away. “I tried. I really, really tried. But none of this seemed to reach you, not through that… that mental barrier you’ve created around yourself. I think that since the very beginning, everything else was just noise to you. I was just noise to you,” your voice dies down to a mutter, and you inhale sharply to fight the sorrow back into your grieving heart.

You withdraw your hands and finally feel brazen enough to face him.

You can feel the heat in your cheeks, aware that your nose is red from the tears you tried so hard to hold back, that your eyelids are probably puffy and swollen, and you’re a fucking mess.

But it doesn’t matter now. You’ve come undone, and now, nothing mattered to you anymore; not the anger, not the sorrow, and especially not the way his kind, gentle touch seemed to soothe your aching heart when his palm met yours.

You scan his face, but there’s nothing— or at least, you can’t seem to read it through the coating of tears obscuring your eyes. The light above has shifted to cast his face in a warm, velvety light. You catch the subtle lines etched into his forehead, the faint silver threads streaking through his hair, and his lips curling into… a smile.

Despite your desperation, despite your pain, he was smiling.

Your chest tightens, fists clenching at your sides, and before you can stop them, a stream of hot tears finally spills down your cheeks.

This was it. You braced for impact.

“…So do whatever the fuck you need to fill that void in your heart, but don’t involve me in any of it. And— for fuck’s sake, Gale, don’t act like you give a shit about me because you—”

But you never get to finish.

Before you can witness the gentle glint in his eyes as he leans into you, before you can even register it, his lips crash onto yours.

Your gasp is muted against the softness of his mouth. When he moves, it’s not gentle, not soft, but raw in its intensity and so, so desperate.

His grip on your wrist tightens briefly before finally releasing, his free hand sliding up to cup the back of your neck. The warmth of his hand is a pleasant change to the cold, hard stone you’ve been leaning against, and suddenly, just as your mind threatens to flood you with dopamine, it all dawns on you.

You’ve been here before—no, not here, but in moments that feel eerily alike.

You recall the edge in his voice during arguments, the way he’d insist on ‘rectifying’ you at every turn, the blunt critiques you assumed were borne from pure vanity. But now… now there’s a clarity to it all. Worry. Fear. A softness, a hesitation. Like when he would offer his hand to you after a fight, his fingers lingering just a moment too long as they brushed over yours.

You loathed him… Hells, you detested him.

But how deep were you willing to draw the line between hate and devotion?

Against all your instincts, against the sharp, burning ache in your chest—you drink him in. His warmth, his touch, the power behind it all.

You know you should push him away, shove him off, scream, but instead, you find yourself frozen— trapped in the certainty of this moment. And despite every ounce of fury burning inside you, you can’t deny the spark it ignites in your indigent heart as he caresses you so tenderly.

And with that, you seal your fate with his.

Your lips press against his, head tilting until you feel you’re melting into him. He groans softly against your mouth, and the sound makes your chest thrum with a melody you’re afraid to place.

Your hands, trembling, inch towards his chest, but this time they aren’t formed into spiteful fists or an accusatory point— your palms lay lax against him, resting at the junction of his ribs and pushing, pushing… just in hopes of catching the steady thrum of his heart against your fingertips. The anger, the pain, the confusion—it’s all still there, but in this moment, none of it matters.

Just him. Just this.

For all the times you’ve misread him, all the moments you thought his criticisms were barbs, meant to wound—now you wonder. You had mistaken his care for contempt, his frustration for hatred. But now, as his lips part slightly against yours, the world narrows down to just the two of you. No damned relic, no mission, no war; only the benign sensation of his hand cradling the back of your neck, the warmth of his mouth on yours, and the undeniable truth of it all:

You’ve never hated him. Not once in your rotten life.

And when his tongue swipes against your bottom lip, you want to come undone. You’re tired, hot, melting into this fiery, passionate kiss that has slowly turned languid and gentle.

So despite the zeal enveloping your body, you’re finally forced to part.

When your eyes open, you find him already watching you. A shiver runs down your spine as you drink him in; tousled hair, half-lidded eyes, and the ghost of a smile on his plush lips as the both of you pant in tandem with each other.

He looks wrecked. But then again, you’re certain you do too.

Your face feels flushed, still burning with aftershock and when you bite your bottom lip, you find it swollen. Raw. The taste of him lingers there too, sweet like bourbon and sharp like anise.

You stare at each other. It’s like you’re seeing him for the first time again, really seeing him, and it softens your heart as much as it terrifies your lust-addled mind.

The silence stretches between you, so thick you can feel it pressing against your skin. It pulls taut with every second, coiling tighter, and you can’t stand how fragile it makes your heart feel.

You swallow hard, trying to gather your scattered thoughts, but your voice betrays you when you finally manage to speak, trembling, barely above a whisper. “You—” Your throat feels tight, words failing you as his face remains inches from yours.

"Yeah?" His voice is husky— you’ve never found that aspect of it attractive until now.

You open your mouth, but the words—whatever they are—die in your throat. Instead, all you can do is look at him and fall deeper into his embrace.

There are questions that swirl in the back of your mind, ones you know you should ask, but they slip away the moment his thumb brushes your cheek again. Why did he kiss you? Why did you let him? And why, despite the chaos and pain that’s passed through your mind, did this—he—feel like the only thing that has made sense since you forgot all else?

“I never hated you,” he murmurs and shifts slightly, lifting his hand to cup your cheek. You nuzzle into his touch.

“I didn’t want to hate you,” you manage, your voice barely above a whisper. “But I thought it’s what we were meant to be. Enemies.”

“We aren’t,” The corner of his mouth twitches. “We never were.”

His thumb brushes your cheek, and just like that, the fragile walls around your heart crumble. Gale Dekarios, the man you had sworn to hate, has somehow intertwined himself into your very existence in a way you suddenly think might last centuries.

—

As it turns out, the solution to your predicament was surprisingly, nearly embarrassingly straightforward. The anti-magic barrier encircling the sunken crypt could be dispelled by reciting the incantation inscribed on the rock walls— and with Gale’s surprising proficiency in Draconic, it proved quite an easy feat.

After that, it was just a matter of a few rudimentary spells. Naturally, the task took longer than anticipated, thanks to the lingering, newfound tension between you and the wizard— fleeting glances, soft touches, and even an occasional, stolen kiss as you recited your magic; things you surprisingly found yourself quite fond of.

As you step out into the cool evening air, you inhale deeply, savoring the crisp, refreshing breeze. The sunset paints the world in a warm, golden hue, casting long, soft shadows across the cobbled streets as you pass by groups of chattering townsfolk.

“I’ve been thinking,” you hear your companion muse through a playful smile. “After all of this, do you think we could avoid arguments for a little while?”

You meet his gaze with a puckish eye roll, a smile tugging at your still-swollen lips. The warm glow of the streetlights casts his face in a soft, intimate glow, and your smile widens into a grin when you catch his lips bearing that same sign of your carnal affection.

“It depends,” you reply with a nonchalant shrug, pushing against him playfully.

“Mhm, and on what exactly?” he hums, his hand squeezing tighter around yours. When his thumb caresses your palm, you feel your heart thrum with something you can’t quite describe.

“Oh, I don’t know,” you reply, glancing up at him with a grin. He returns it within a beat, and now it’s your turn to knit your fingers tighter. “How much longer are you planning on nagging me?”

He chuckles from the belly, and the coil in your chest that you’ve long expected to be spite emerges as something much larger, softer, and most unexpected. You fear to name it out loud.

You smile when your gaze meets his, the warmth in his eyes mirrored by the softness of your own. He leans in, and the world narrows to the touch of his lips against yours—a brief, gentle kiss that seems to linger in the evening light. In that fleeting moment, all the doubts and anxieties are swept away with his voice calling your name.

“For as long as I live,” he retorts softly, his voice laced with tenderness as the air between you, once again, fills with his laughter.

241 notes · View notes

jinchuls · 11 months ago

Text

𝒴𝑒𝓈, 𝒴𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝐻𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓃𝑒𝓈𝓈 ₊˚✩

ᡣ𐭩 various knight!character x fem!reader

includes 𝜗𝜚 iwaizumi hajime, kuroo tetsurou (nsfw), ojiro aran (nsfw - marking), takanobu aone

notes 𝜗𝜚 repost from previous blog, mdni

𝑰𝒘𝒂𝒊𝒛𝒖𝒎𝒊 𝑯𝒂𝒋𝒊𝒎𝒆 was the most responsible man assigned to you. No matter your request, big or small, he would execute them with perfection and a quiet “Yes, Your Highness.” He’d bow his head, stand close and make sure every step you take is safe. For the longest time, he seemed to have no interest in anything other than your father’s expectations of him. Not in you, or his fellow knights–he’d perform as he should but no more. You hated it. You hated the lack of attention, the simple responses and the silence as he stood at your side and, most of all, you hated how the small acts, the brief moments your eyes would meet and how those three words would make your heart skip. As you ignore the burning in your chest whenever he is near, you’re unaware of the effect you have on him. You’re oblivious to the shake in his voice when he does quietly respond to you and you don’t notice the gleam in his eyes when yours meet his–you look away before you can notice the red tinge painting his cheeks–and you had no idea the silence was caused by his pure inability to string sentences together in your presence. He wanted to, he wanted to hear your voice every second of the day or be the cause of your laugh. It’s your outburst one night that changes the course of your relationship, that starts something that would result in Hajime’s certain dismissal, with tears welling in your eyes and the frustration clear on your face you confess every emotion weighing down on your heart hoping, praying, he felt the same. He can hear his own heartbeat as it quickens, the pounding in his chest so loud he fears you can hear it from your position across the room; his face reddens again–you have to hide your smile to spare him any more embarrassment–and he begins to stutter. If he had found it difficult to speak around you, it worsened in that moment, but it was clear, no matter what the future would hold for your heart, your feelings were mirrored by your knight.

𝑲𝒖𝒓𝒐𝒐 𝑻𝒆𝒕𝒔𝒖𝒓𝒐𝒖 had mastered the art of trickery. In your family's eyes, he was the perfect candidate to keep you safe. He was that man, amongst all of his peers he was one of the strongest and most capable men that your parents could trust–he’d perfected their vision of him which only presented him every opportunity to show you the less professional sides of him. He was the man he allowed everyone to see but he was also the man able to rile you up, in all the right ways, with a lingering stare and a mischievous glint in his eyes or the touch of his fingers against the nape of your neck as he struggled with the clasp of your necklace. Your attraction to him was unheard of; you’d be ridiculed by anyone that found out. A member of the royal family and their knight? It was an impossible match Supposedly. They only thought that way because they didn’t know what happened when the door was closed; when the knight’s barrack was empty or any other moment the two of you found yourselves alone. There would be no more talk of the incompatibility of royals with anyone of lower status if they knew the way you’d find yourself bouncing on his cock as night settles around the palace. Or how you’d bite your lip to stop the moans from escaping you as he held your waist and the rhythmic movement of his hips had your legs shaking as each precise thrust pushed against every nerve sending you one step closer to bliss. None of it mattered, they could whisper and they could plan your betrothal: they would never know how comforted you felt wrapped in his arms or how protected you knew you were simply walking through the halls of your own home. No one could ruin what had been created and no one would ever know. Outside of your shared secret, all that was seen was your gentle orders directed at him, your voice soft but stern–as it was with every individual under your command–and his return the usual, the formal response everyone was expected to utter but his with a sly, subtle flirtation that left your legs weaks beneath you: “Yes, Your Highness.”

𝑶𝒋𝒊𝒓𝒐 𝑨𝒓𝒂𝒏 was perfect. Cheerful, strong, intelligent and, most important of all, able to cope with the incessant issues caused by the Miya twins (the knights assigned to your siblings. Days seemed to pass quicker when he was there; whenever time appeared to slow, he would be there to keep you company. There was no such thing as a dull moment when he was at your side. From the moment you met him, he was far too easy to get along with. Solid lines engraved in your mind were fading; the lessons taught to you as a young noble were forgotten and the very nature of the expected relationship between knight and noble was lost. You had never been happier. “Aran.” You’d whisper, fingernails digging into the skin of his arm; your head fell back against the pillows as he kissed your neck softly. “I know,” His voice would be no louder than yours, “Not where they can be seen.” With a kiss to your collarbone, he’d look between your bodies at the littering of fading marks he’d left the last time he’d had you in his arms. Across your chest, your thighs, anywhere where they would be hidden from eyes you did not trust. As always, he’d make a comment about how you looked beautiful with the evidence of him. And, as usual, it doesn’t take long before he’s darkening existing marks, kissing your chest. Biting your skin softly to hear those sweet sounds he adored, and leave behind reminders of the night for you to find the next morning. With more scattered across your skin, he’d sit up to look down at his masterpiece as you reached up for him, missing the warmth of his body closer to you. Your quiet mewls were heaven to hear. A smile sat on his face as he leaned down, chest against you and his lips grazing yours. He’d still, hips pressed to yours forcing whimpers from your throat–a silent cry for more–you’re too lost in ecstasy to give it up now. “Please.” You whisper, eyes meeting his. He grins, hands softly holding your waist as he slowly pulls his hips away again. “Yes, Your Highness.”

𝑻𝒂𝒌𝒂𝒏𝒐𝒃𝒖 𝑨𝒐𝒏𝒆 was quiet. From the day he was assigned as your personal guard, he’d barely uttered a word to you or to anyone. He’d simply nod his head to accept any order you sent his way and, miraculously, he’d found a way to relay any message from you wordlessly. You envied those able to understand the behaviour you’d never seen before and you found yourself wanting to be among those he seemed close to. You would watch his fellow knights approach him; you’d watch how Futakuchi would speak to the man and reiterate his silence into words during group conversations whilst you were left in confusion. Day in and day out, you’d find yourself watching him and the little interactions he would have with those around him, occasionally catching his perfectly gentle nature with small animals that roamed the palace gardens. You were certain he could feel your eyes on him but he never seemed to care; you knew words had got to him that you had been asking those he spoke to often to tell you about him but he never stopped your interest. And, as time passed, you found your curiosity had grown into something much more. You’d look away quickly when he would turn his head in your direction, eyes suddenly focused on the tea in front of you. Aone was quiet. Almost too quiet. But the red of his cheeks, that you caught for just a few seconds, was loud. You clear your throat, fearing your voice could break as you try once more to encourage a conversation with him. “The weather is lovely today,” you grip the teacup tightly, closing your eyes and wincing in the embarrassment, that wasn’t what you’d wanted to say. “Would you,” you quieten, looking anywhere other than where he is stood. “Would accompany me on a walk?” He waits a moment and you glance up, expecting to see a small nod, as always. He meets your eye, a soft smile on his face as he does so. “Yes, Your Highness.”

#𝓈𝒾𝑔𝓃𝑒𝒹 𝑒𝒸𝒽𝑜 ༉‧₊˚.#iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi hajime #kuroo tetsurou #kuroo x reader #kuroo smut #kuroo tetsurou smut #ojiro aran #aran x reader #ojiro aran smut #aran smut #takanobu aone #aone x reader #haikyuy x reader #haikyuu smut

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itsabouttimex2 · 1 month ago

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any lmk ideas you wish were touched on more often in fanfic??

Underused LMK Premises

Oh so many dude you don’t even understand-

1. Courtnapping as a legitimately bad thing. Not “ooh it’s romantic for demons” or “it’s just part of their culture” or “it’s proof of how much they love you” but like… a portrayal of courtnapping that actually demonstrates how viscerally dehumanizing it is to be stolen away by someone you might not even know and treated like a prize who can be won with the right application of charm or power.

(Like I’ve used it I think only once before and pretty much stopped at the “this is what demons do in general thing, but the potential for varied application is just… so high.)

Especially for mortals- imagine being bruised and battered from a long period spent unconsciously slung over someone’s shoulder or under their arm, strewn over a lounge chair or tied up in front of the kitchen table, seething. Eyes focused and hateful, knowing that this would happen eventually if they let down their guard or let a demon too close. It doesn’t matter how the monster peacocks about with that tome or this battleaxe, it’s not attractive, it’s not sexy,- and nothing can steal the feeling of violation that settles in over having been stolen from home in your sleep so you could get an extended IRL version of “I showed you my dick please go out with me” from a thirteen foot demon who is more interested in wooing you than actually wanting you.

Or just… old demons who mumble and huff about “losing their traditions” or “young demons going soft” as they look at woven tapestries in their homes, proud depictions of past conquests standing frozen in time, unaware that their great-great-grandson would lose his newest baby to a hysteric mortal’s iron-toed boot, wild with unforeseen hormones brought on by demonic birth, unaware that his youngest granddaughter would face a life of misery as she grew up, constantly stolen back and forth by two demons as part of a glorified pissing contest, both more interested in one-upping each other than the sapient being they steal from her room each night.

Young demons secretly taught by the last crotchety stalwarts of an old generation that “What you want is yours to take, if you can take it,” before their parents can snatch them away from great-great-great-grandfather and hurry off, praying their little one is too young to understand what was said. Growing demons brought up with those horrid words rattling their horned skulls, heeding and obeying them, then wondering why their dearest friends snap and crack as they’re “spirited away”. Grown demons who come up lonely and tired, seeing their diminishing race in a world flourishing with soft little mortals and wondering spitefully “Why did we ever stop conquering”, only learning the answer at the blunt end of a glowing golden staff when their time is near, the finishing blow timed to the cheers of their captives.

(If I ever write a satire fic, it will 100% be about a Y/N who gets isekai-ed into LMK, but instead of any of the cool or attractive protagonists, they get courtnapped by a crusty-handed, balding and portly demon who doesn’t practice hygiene or housecare. Just to put into perspective how actually awful the whole “I’m being kidnapped as a spouse” thing would probably really be if it wasn’t your attractive, young, in-shape, washes regularly blorbo doing the snatching.)

2. With this, demons just… not understanding mortals. Not for lack of trying, and not for lack of wanting, but through simple psychological incompatibility.

Demons struggling with empathy toward mortals because their minds are shaped by instincts that value strength, endurance, and survival of the fittest. Emotions that seem obvious to humans, like fear, discomfort, or sorrow simply not registering for demons in the same way. They see these reactions, but interpret them through their own lens, often believing that mortals are playing games or faking them or maybe outright performing.

Communal demons in broad daylight snatching up children for hours or days, only to return them with scars and bloodshot eyes, and wondering why they receive no gratitude for, in their opinion “taking up parental duties” without so much as being asked. After all, isn’t a little bit of “toughening up” good for children?

Demons who don’t understand “allergies”, especially when they range from “mild cough” to “near-instant death” and maybe misunderstand how epi-pens work- “Is stabbing the flesh a way to bleed the illness”, asks an curious demon with ancient eyes, worn hands, ragged skin, “and will any weapon do?”

Demons who become artists that need calligraphy tools so large they get mistaken for weapons. Demons who don’t understand tipping culture and assume they’re being fleeced. Demons who need custom chairs and custom clothes and custom bedding. Demons who pick fights on behalf of their friends and coworkers, and then to combat this, demons who get hired on as protection against “honor battles”.

Demons being demons, not just immortal humans.

3. Characters with variable ages that widely differ- like, I’ve gone on here and there about my view on ambiguous ages for characters and why I love that trope so much and how it makes a series infinitely more attractive to larger crowds and audiences than a concrete “14” or “23” or “46”, you know? And the fact that MK and Mei and Red Son could be sooo many different ages all in different configurations is super interesting to me!

Like, imagine- Adult!Red Son with Teen!Mei and Teen!MK, having an absolute full-throttle meltdown when he realizes that the two upstart semi-mortals who keep beating his demonic ass are teenagers. Red Son being both mortified at his continuous defeats and furious at these children’s parents for allowing them to fight in such high stakes.

And then with that slowly growing sense of pity and anger he just scoffs and shakes his head the one time they maybe aren’t in such high spirits (drenched from rain and wind and exhausted from the vigor of battle) and whisks them off to his family’s lair, throwing a demon-sized towel for them to share as he whips up something spicy for the kids.

Children.

They’re children.

He goes home and thinks on that, and then decides that maybe he just doesn’t want to fight them anymore.

Red Son then being reverse adopted by Pigsy + Mr. and Mrs. Dragon because, hey, if he’s playing big brother, might as well let him. Then Red gets to learn what (mostly) healthy family dynamics are through direct interaction and then hold his parents to those standards and basically everyone heals together.

Or hey, Red Son being a teenager while MK and Mei are adults! The two heroes doting on this ever-furious demon with treats and drinks to “cheer him up” after his frequent losses and kinda… accidentally teaching him what unconditional kindness is by becoming surrogate older siblings to the kid.

Red Son freaking out because his parents are going to be mad about this loss or that failure, and

(Red Son getting a phone call in the middle of a fight because PIF is mad he didn’t take out the trash lmao)

4. Y/N being protective of Sun Wukong.

Man, I don’t know if it’s just me but I don’t touch most romantic Shadowpeach x Y/N fanfics at all because I know I’m in for more of the same “Macaque legitimately being an awful person to someone he’s sharing a mate with/to one of his two mates and Y/N thinks it’s funny/doesn’t care” and just like… dude.

Like I know I’ve talked about how much I hate Fanon!Macaque, the simpering sadsack who only exists to get babied and patted on the ass, all his actions whitewashed and cooed over, so like, obviously I wasn’t gonna be a fan of this.

Maybe I’m just not the target audience here but like holy shit… why? It’s never portrayed as unhealthy or anything more than a silly goofy thing that Macaque is constantly tormenting someone he either is supposed to love or share a lover with, and the reader in regard to that mistreatment is little more a drooling dumbfuck without enough braincells to breath through their nose.

I don’t get it. A Y/N who says “Teehee my mate is being abused ‘oh noes’ but Maccy needs cuddles so I’ll disregard one half of my relationship~” is not a Y/N I care about, and I don’t see what’s so compelling about neglect and mistreatment portrayed as the order of the day. I don’t see the merit in “I’m Y/N, and I’m stupid and blind to abuse!”

Cause I think it’s so much more interesting if it’s like…

“Do that again and you’re out.”

And Macaque whips around in shock, looking up from the shadow portal he just shoved Wukong into. “Excuse me-“

“Do that again,” you repeat, voice low and tense- Wukong would be fine, you were more angry than worried-, “and you’re out. Gone. Out of my house and out of my life.”

“I wasn’t-“

“I don’t give a fuck, Macaque! You will not MISTREAT my mate in my own house!”

“I- it’s not- I don’t-“

“I DON’T FUCKING CARE! HE’S NOT A FUCKING PUNCHING BAG, SO I’M NOT LETTING YOU TREAT HIM LIKE ONE!”

You know, a scenario where Y/N isn’t a passive enabler of abuse and bullying, and they actually have a voice of their own outside of “Teehee Mac you’re sooooo mean to my lover but I’m totally okay with that for some reason!~” but also gives Macaque explicit instruction on what he needs to do in order to better the relationship (ex: not abuse their other mate), in which they aren’t stupid or unforgiving and all three can grow together, instead of the usual: “Macaque isn’t ever a bad person. But when he is it’s not a big deal. But when it is his victims “deserve” it.”

5. Transhuman identities and abilities. I mean, just… there’s shapeshifting and magical artifacts and all manner of mystic trinket in the world. Does being gay or trans really matter when anyone can learn the 72 Transformations and become what they wish? Is it any bigger a deal than your child deciding they’re going to live life as a dog, or a demon? Are there potions to make these transformations permanent? Can a person become a demon, instead of transforming into one?

Does being immortal fuck with your taxes? Does knowing magic fuck with your insurance? Does your family look at you differently after you’ve tasted that ambrosial nectar, consumed that slice of eternity? Do they fear or long for a taste? Does your grandmother refuse to come to your wedding, ashamed that you would “break yourself from the cycle”? Does your mother cry into her hands that you wed a demon? Do you run to an old monastery to elope, wed by an old monk with ancient eyes because no other soul will officiate you and that demon? Will you be welcome in the celestial realm if you wed a heavenly soldier? If you take the hand of a god? What will you have you learn? How long until you feel at “home”?

Just… humans getting into mystical trouble outside of battles.

(If anyone else has some stuff they’d wish was expanded on more often, feel free to add on in the comments or reblogs!)

#Time Talks #Lego Monkie Kid #LMK #Shadowpeach #Sun Wukong #Macaque #Courtnapping #MK #Mei #Red Son #Traffic Light Trio

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kremlin · 4 months ago

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after many years my old company has finally allowed people back into the office, haha, not to go to work, no no, solely to collect their belongings from their desks. i picked up my stuff and remembered what a psycho i was about my office back then, let me show you..

i set up an old VT-420 on a side of my desk to read my email on (to flex my computer dick) which is unfortunately a bit too yellowed now for me to post exposed but hilariously enough i did take the chance to fix the faulty RS-232 chip in it and i no longer get a bunch of keystrokes interpreted as ŸŸŸŸs randomly. the fix was great too, instead of having to throw the whole thing out like you'd need to today, i literally just had to pull the PTH chip out of its socket, didn't even need to desolder. nor throw the old one out. i blasted it with a blowtorch for about half a second and it's fine now.

youtube

(it is amber by the way, which is the best color)

the keyboard is another story, i think a lot of like, entry-level vintage computing people get this concept that every old keyboard is some treasure, and boy let me tell you, some of them make you want throw up, like the vt420's:

you'll have to take my word that the typing experience is pure ass, but if you look at this fucker for more than two seconds your blood pressure will start to raise. and i'm not just talking about the euro return key. where is the super key? and what is going on left of 'a'? did they decide to solve the age-old "caps lock vs ctrl" debate by putting both of them there (??) what the fuck is going on north of the arrow keys?!?! and even further north, 'help' is funny enough on its own, the fact its next to DO, a truly existentially puzzling key, makes it that much better. why is DO so wide?? why are there so many F keys? and apparantly 20 F keys wasn't enough, they had to go on and invent "PF" keys above the numpad. and it doesn't stop there..

the pre-USB world was pretty nuts, but most keyboards still had sane connectors like DE-9's, PS/2, DINs, etc, but not this one

it uses, a, uh, looks like an ethernet cable. weird. but look closer. six pins. AND, big honking square to key it specifically and make it incompatible with the very-similar already-existing 6P6C specification (why?) anyways, that's enough of this crap, moving on

this is the keyboard for my lisp machine, the famous "space cadet keyboard", i get so many fucking emails about this keyboard, christ almighty. people trying to buy it from me, it's a shame, the machines don't boot without them so seperating them to satisfy reddit guy wish fulfillment breaks my heart. it's a lot better. it's from an era where a good computer would set you back half a million and the hardware reflects it. honeywell made it, it's "solid state" insofar as that makes sense for a keyboard, uses the hall effect. there weren't any rats at my office but just in case i seem to have taped something to the underside:

lol. now for accouterments to cover those hideous eggshell white walls:

in order, openbsd, you know it baby, middle is a weird polish promo for the holy mountain, the last thing was a joke whose meaning has been lost to time. chicken and turkey!

i seemed to have been working on some very bizarre electronics projects, personal, during my workday:

god, what the fuck was this?

oh, duh, it's bort's hat. (??)

some reading materials. K&R C is a first edition, somewhat rare. the 9front manuals:

classic, natch. and a huge gear that's clapped

that's it. that's my office apparently.

#w #words

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caker-baker · 28 days ago

Text

Playing Sides

The detective allowed themself tense shoulders and whitened knuckles, if only to properly play the game.

Body language could make and break this meeting, and they needed to be a collection of fearful memories on display for the villain, an offering, appeasement, something else here and there.

If anyone other than the villain noticed the act, they were obviously choosing not to say something, going about their individual days, drinking coffee and politely nibbling on microwaved pastries.

But those people didn’t matter, not when there was something else much more pressing at the table.

“This seems a tad…” The villain sitting across from the appeasing detective took their time looking for the word. “incompatible.”

The detective only spared a sweeping glance at the rest of the cafe. “For you or for me?”

Chuckling, the villain raised their coffee cup to their lips. “Tricky, tricky, tricky. Always is with you.” They took an appreciative sip, eyes never leaving the detective. “What is this act you’re putting on? It’s good, believable, but not enough of a constant for me to place any value in it. I don’t appreciate attempts at flattery.”

The first thought was to argue, because why wouldn’t it be? The detective was a professional, their job was to unearth, discover, and find the final truth, the one answer.

Sitting in front of an anthropomorphized file of contradictions with the ability to lie, could, arguably, make the detective jumpy, twitching to argue and argue and argue until that final truth was revealed.

“Maybe it’s not an act.” The detective finally said, not exactly an argument, but a halfway concession, relaxing their muscles, loosening the vice grip on their coffee. “Maybe I’m scared.”

“But not of me.”

“Should I be?”

The villain offered a closed lip smile, one motion away from baring their teeth.

“I don’t so much mind you, my dear detective friend.”

“I don’t care for flattery, either.” The detective said.

“Good thing it wasn’t flattery. You would notice if I were to compliment you.” The villain watched them, particularly their relaxed hands.

The detective managed to rid the urge to move their hands then and there, stayed completely still even as the chill creeped up their spin.

“No, no, not flattery.” The villain continued. “Merely acknowledging the truth. We have a good deal going for each other.” They leaned forward. “Which is why this meeting worries me, why I was unconvinced of your taut facade, your attempts of appeasement.”

The detective straightened, knowing well enough that the villain was mocking their strategy.

“You were hoping to…what? Beg for some sort of help?”

“No.”

“Ask for something, then?”

The detective stayed silent, looking away as the villain stared them down, goading them on in their silent way.

The two did have a good deal going on, and if the detective was wrong, this could ruin that.

But they weren’t wrong.

“There have been whispers, Villain.”

“There tend to be, yes, old friend.”

“About something, someone, coming.” If the villain wanted to respond, the detective wasn’t going to give them a chance. “Now, you know me, you know us, our usual deal. I play both sides of the fence, just barely. Lately, during some of my data tracking for the heroes, I’ve noticed a disturbing pattern.”

“Oh?”

“I’ve been forced to wonder something, I have a question for you. All I need is a simple yes or no-”

“Going to stop you there.” The villain set down their cup, fixing the detective with a colder, less amicable gaze. “I do know our usual deal, which is why I’m insulted now. You wanted information, pertinent, valuable information about something disturbing, and you were hoping to bargain with your fear?”

“Villain-”

Their eyes widened, the table under their fist began to crack.

“Careful.”

The detective couldn’t hide any body language from that, flinching at the tone of voice, tones, that the villain had - a million low voices all merging into one, horrific growl that sent shivers wracking up the detective’s spine, hurting their very bones.

“My guilt!” The detective spat out, ignoring the building bone nausea. “It wasn’t fear. You’re right. I’m not scared, not yet, but I’m guilty, and I will be terrified depending on your answer. If this ends up a yes, then I’m prepared to offer you something that I cannot take back, Villain. I’ll trade in something terrible for the rest of us, if it means I have the smallest chance to prepare.”

Those wide eyes narrowed, but the cracking table at least stopped, and the million low voices returned to one.

“Do tell.”

“Answer me first.”

“Tricky, tricky, trick.” The villain relaxed into their chair, amused now. “I’ll decide if it’s worth answering, Detective. Seem fair? Ask your silly yes or no question.”

Another sweep around the coffee shop, everything going according to how the detective had set up.

“Normally, your type gets quiet, goes under radar before a bigger stunt is pulled. I keep track, alert the proper channels, make sure not too many civvies are in a particular high risk zone at a given day. Some contacts in other big cities have reached out, said it’s been too quiet, everyone’s been too quiet.”

The villain’s amusement had already been fanned like a flame, crossing their arms and watching the detective lay it out for them as if it was some soap opera.

“I’ll spare you too many details, but I have reason to believe something big is being planned for here.” They held up a hand, watching the villain’s eyebrow quirk up. “I just need to know, yes or no, is this happening? Is my home going to be razed down for a personal vendetta? A final heroes vs. villains?”

The villain looked the detective up and down.

“If you knew the answer to that, what would you do?”

“Let you and yours duke it out with the heroes. Take the place if you want, it’s only a place, but I’d like to minimize civvy death count, Villain. I’d get in touch with those channels and start mass evacuation. I’d start it now.”

“And now the fun part.” They leaned in again. “What could you offer me in exchange for this answer? What could bring you of all people to guilt? You, whom I almost respect?”

The detective swallowed, and placed their bag on the table, letting the villain take a look inside.

Body language would make or break this.

“Power dampening cuffs. A prototype. I can’t guarantee they work. But I’m sure if you and yours worked together, you could figure something out.”

For the first time, the villain seemed surprised, hardly giving the prototype cuffs another glance.

“Detective-”

“I can’t guarantee they work.” The detective repeated. “But in this squabble of yours that may or may not be coming up, you could use these, and they would help, I know they would.”

“Hm. And you’ll let me walk out with these and the current schematics if I answer you? What if I lie? You make the wrong call, and I still have these. Maybe I will lie, maybe I want to see you be horribly wrong at such a cost.”

“You don’t.” The detective wasn’t wrong. They weren’t.

“Why’s that?”

“It would be no fun for you. You couldn’t almost respect me if this was the end of our partnership, my too easy failure.”

There was so much the detective was betting on, and knowing the villain was one of them.

The villain was a villain through and through, conniving, powerful, selfish, dangerous. And sometimes, those traits, the selfishness, carried into these little deals of theirs.

No, the villain wouldn’t want this to end without a bang. The villain would want to string along the detective until there was no more use of them.

“In a way,” The villain said, standing and grabbing the bag. “You’re right. It would be no fun. I don’t just want these, though. I want something else.”

“Answer the question, I’ll see what else I can do.”

The villain stared down at the detective for a long time. A minute. Two. Three. Or maybe it was only three seconds, stretched out into the fraying ends of a perfectly planned meeting.

“Yes.” The villain finally said. “The answer is yes, something is coming.”

The detective stood, not too quickly. “Thank you. I appreciate that. What do you want? Codes to inaccessible areas? You can have them as soon as-”

Reaching across, the villain grasped the detective’s shoulder. “The ramifications of razing this city down, as you so put, were lost on me. How could you and I keep this up if you’re running off, evacuating with the other saps?” They watched how the detective’s eyes flitted to the villain’s hand. “What I want, Detective, is to keep having fun.”

“Villain, there’s not much you or I can do to continue this deal of ours if there’s all out super war-”

“You play for heroes and villains, or, excuse me, just barely.” Their hand tightened on the detective’s shoulder. “Let’s see what sort of fun we can have with that.”

Before the detective could open their mouth, the villain smiled, and the two disappeared.

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hisui-dreamer · 1 year ago

Text

rewrite the stars

Characters: Leona, Azul, Jade, Idia

Synopsis: if the stars say we're not meant to be, then why don't we just rewrite the stars?

Tags: horoscopes, reader is insecure, crack(?), fluff, comfort, not proofread

Word count: 1.4k+

Notes: rewrite the stars got stuck in my head then this idea popped up hehe

Disclaimer: i don't really know a lot about astrology, so most of the things i say are from google searches. in general, take astrology with a grain of salt yeah.

but also my sign and jade's sign are compatible hehehe

Masterlist

it's not easy being confident in love, and sometimes when you get so lost in your fears, you let anyone and anything tell you what you fear to admit, without a care for how truthful those words may be.

truthfully, if you were dead serious and broke up with him, he'd just grumble out a "whatever" and put up the façade that he doesn't care

but he'd actually be so mad at himself for pushing you away and how nothing in his life could ever go smoothly

but your eyes are swollen and tears are threatening to spill as you whisper those words

he silently approaches you, and instinctively reaches to brush your tears away, but his warm, calloused hand only makes you cry harder at how much you love the man before your eyes

he pulls you into his arms and holds you close as you sob into his chest

he doesn't say anything and waits for you to elaborate, there's a part of him that's afraid if he asked you why you wanted to break up with him, he couldn't bear how his own self-hatred

once you've calmed down, you start explaining how you two are incompatible in astrology, that he's a leo so it's easy for miscommunication to happen and other issues that have plagued you since you read about them

he's heard all this make believe astrology personality stuff before, but never before has he been glad of how ridiculous the idea is

you hear leona let out a big sigh, and the tension in his shoulders immediately lessens

pulls away from you to stare deep into your eyes, his face completely serious and solemn

"Herbivore, are you happy with me?" he asks. At you confused face, he repeats the question, his expression unchanging. When you nod firmly, he smiles slightly and asks again. "Then what else matters? As if I would let the souls of the past kings or some random star talk decide who I'm gonna love," he scowls at the idea. He leans forward and rests his forehead against yours. "You're stuck with me now, I'm not lettin' ya go that easily," he whispers.

He pulls you with him as he falls back onto the mattress, cradling you in his arms. "Sleep. You're not a baby anymore so don't go crying yourself to sleep," he teases, but he gently kisses the remainder of your tears away.

azul.exe has stopped functioning

blubbering like a fish out of water (wait...) he's lost and hurt and confused and panicking all at the same time

"w-w-what have i done to upset you angelfish????"

the tweels walk into azuls office just to see the two of you crying and confused, azul trying to ask you why and he's sad and crying, you're stumbling over your words and sniffing and crying

ok after a glass of warm water (thank you jade) the two of you calm down to actually have a proper conversation, though azul is still very obviously tense

you explain that he's a Pisces and that means you two not compatible with how sensitive he is and he's a water sign and so on

azul is very confused about how stars can determine people's personalities, but he does fit the description of a Pisces, and if his beloved Angelfish is stressed over astrology, then it must be a reliable tell (azul no)

he asks for you to give him some time, to actually understand your reasonings and of course, to give him a chance and prove to you how willing he is to work out a relationship with you

the next day, azul visits you with very deep dark eye circles, but the glint in his eyes shows full determination and confidence

azul businessman mode on!

sits you down and pulls up a slideshow

azul ashengrotto is now an astrology expert!

he's determined to show you that you two have maximum compatibility and whatever issues you have? he'll always work them out with you

"Darling, you mentioned our Sun signs yesterday, but I think it's crucial to also discuss our rising, moon, and star signs." He declares as he points to a star chart. "Now, following the calculations of our birth dates and locations..."

An hour later, you sit completely convinced that astrology all but supports your relationship with Azul, and you can't help smile and jump into his arms. Azul, sleep deprived and running on anxiety, somehow manages to not fall over, but soon leans his weight on you. "See? We're perfectly compatible with each other," he murmurs against your ear. His arms wrap around you, squeezing you gently, "so please don't leave me, I wouldn't know what to do without you..."

eyes wide slowly blinking like "... I beg your pardon?"

honestly jade doesn't look that surprised/hurt

but really he's suppressing the turmoil of emotions inside him

ever the logical thinker, he'd ask a calm "May I ask why, my dear?"

and you surprise him again with flowing tears and a trembling voice

though he's listening very patiently as he's diligently wiping away your tears with his handkerchief, soft careful movements to avoid causing discomfort

asks questions when he doesn't understand what in astrology is going on, genuinely making an effort to understand this field of academics

in a sense, he's distracting you from being upset with academic discussion

okay, he's a Scorpio, which makes him good at manipulating people??? and he's very bold??

now while he finds all this very interesting and slightly accurate, it still feels pretty whimsical that the time you're born in determines your personality

particularly as he's so different to Floyd! and they were born at the same time!

whichever the case, the more pressing issue is his dearest lover sniffing and whining that you could never be happy together with how incompatible you are

he pulls you into his chest for a bit, rubbing soothing circles into your back and leaving gentle kisses you until your sniffing quiets down

"Dearest, won't you look at me?" he murmurs against your ear. You look up to see the most tender expression you had ever seen on him, his mismatched eyes filled with warmth and affection.

"While it is indeed extremely unfortunate that our star signs are incompatible, I don't believe there's a single person out there who could love me better than you do," he says as he kisses your hand. "I promise that your happiness will always be my utmost priority, so won't you continue to love this silly eel?"

"Now, while I will always find you enchantingly beautiful, I do believe a smile shines the brightest on my lovely pearl," he smiles while brushing the remaining wetness away from your eyes.

simply put, idia panics immediately

every day he thinks the fates have been far too kind to him for you to even reciprocate his feelings

he's always mentally preparing himself if you want to break up or you need to leave him

so he puts up a brave face when you say you can't be together

but wait... you actually look really upset and on the verge of tears???

"Hold up, why are you the one crying?"

please don't tell him those are tears of joy i think he'd die on the spot

through sobs and sniffs, you tell him that you were curious about your compatibility based on astrology

and okay...? he's a fire sign??? explains the hair

okay so you're telling him, you're breaking up with him solely because you think this thing might be right and not because you hate him, right?

brb gotta blow up some stars

starts mumbling about some plans to build space missiles and blow up some stars that make up his sign or something

he can't be an asparagus(??? idia no it's sagittarius doesn't matter) if the constellation no longer exists, right?

you stop him (thank god) by cupping both of his cheeks to make him stare straight at you

he's flushing up instantly and every fiber of his being yearned to turn away but your teary gaze makes him stop squirming

"You know," he begins, his voice earnest and steady, "everyday, I can't believe how lucky I am to have you in my life. If you're unworthy of me, then I'm unworthy of you."

He lets out a chuckle, that rumble echoing right into your ear. "I suppose I can put those star destroyer blueprints on hold, at least for the time being. But if the stars ever mess with us again, it's game over for them."

Masterlist

if you liked this post, don't forget to reblog!

#twstnexus #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #disney twisted wonderland #twst imagines #twst wonderland #leona kingscholar #leona kingscholar x reader #twisted wonderland leona #jade leech #jade leech x reader #twisted wonderland jade #azul ashengrotto #azul ashengrotto x reader #twisted wonderland azul #idia shroud #idia shroud x reader #twisted wonderland idia

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bg3-ficrecs · 9 months ago

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Thunder reforged: Rolan x Dammon - #BG3 FanFic Review

Review by Aivu (@aivuthedragon)

Happy timezone, dear readers! Today I'm happy to bring you this incredible series of works by velocitross on AO3. What's hotter than a tiefling wizard with a knack for a well-timed thunderwave? Said tiefling wizard having a rendezvous with his tiefling blacksmith paramour, of course.

A note from the BG3FicReviews team: The entire BG3 community was been rocked by the recent controversy surrounding Dammon's VA, including the various fanwork creators who've fallen in love with Dammon, included him in their work, and are part of the LGBTQAI+ community themselves. We want to express our support and love to Dammon fans, Dammon fan work creators, the LGBTQAI+ community generally and all those adversely affected by what's happened. As such, we have decided to feature such works in our reviews this week. Make your love louder than the hate. 💜

As always, mind the tags! Our review is continued below the fold due to the NSFW nature of the content in these works.

This incredible artwork by @arczism was inspired by velocitross's Rolan x Dammon fic Working Steel, which is included in today's review.

Working Steel, the first of velocitross’ three works that include this rare pair, is a masterwork in character portrayal. The author adeptly captures the at-a-glance somewhat incompatible personalities of the two tiefling refugees who fled Elturel together and now reside in Baldur’s Gate. In this work, the relationship between Rolan, the ever-surly wizard and the newly ‘appointed’ master of Ramazith Tower, and Dammon, the gentle yet infernally talented blacksmith of the Forge of the Nine, has grown far beyond mere friendship.

Rolan, frustrated by his attempts to catalogue the mindless chaos remaining after the untimely death of the tower’s former owner, approaches Dammon to ask for his help and visits him at his forge. But what could a blacksmith possibly offer a wizard? Well, a good fuck, for one thing. Rolan is pent-up, impatient, and needs a good lay. And, it turns out, so does Dammon. The smut that ensues is not only blazingly hot but also beautifully captures the tender affection between the two tieflings through not only their words, but small, unique gestures of love and care. (Mind the tails. I mean, tags. No, tails.)

In Up in the Tower, it’s Dammon’s turn to visit the wizard’s domain. But the blacksmith receives a less-than-warm welcome, as the ever-grumpy Rolan becomes highly annoyed at having his work interrupted. But considering Rolan is dressed in little more than his underwear and an open robe, I’m more than willing to forgive him for his surliness. Dammon, however, being the sweet, gentle soul that he is, insists on taking care of Rolan beyond his carnal needs alone. In this work, the relationship between the pair deepens, and the author has wonderfully captured the intimacy of the pair. Lastly, we have Within the Storm. This work takes us back to the Shadow-Cursed Lands as the tiefling refugees attempt to cross its desolate lands on their way to Baldur’s Gate. When the Absolute’s forces ambush the group, Rolan expertly wields his magic to stave them off. But when something happens to Zevlor, the battle takes a turn for the worse. In the chaos, Rolan’s siblings, Cal and Lia, are kidnapped and several of his friends and co-travellers are brutally murdered.

Once at Last Light Inn, Rolan is a fucking mess, devastated by his siblings’ capture. Lost in the depths of his despair and way too much drink, the tiefling wizard finds comfort in the arms of a fellow refugee he’d known since childhood - Dammon. And thus the gentlest embers of affection between the pair begin to spark to life. This lovely one-shot serves as a prelude to the author’s much-anticipated long fic about the pair, their growing affection for one another and what looks to be a truly beautiful love story. If you would like to follow velocitross’ incredible work about the love between a tiefling wizard and blacksmith, please be sure to subscribe to the author on AO3 and follow their work and the pending long fic. We have included a snippet of Working Steel below for your enjoyment. As always, please support the writers of our incredible fandom by leaving kudos and comments on their work. 🫶

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Working Steel

By velocitross on AO3

The ring of his hammer fills Dammon’s ears and his attention as he works. A soft frown of focus curves his lips. It’s a simple enough repair—restoring a blade for the halfling woman standing outside the forge watching him work. Still, there’s a satisfaction to it: the rhythm of his strikes, the heat of the day in Baldur’s Gate warming him beneath his layers of apron and clothing. The ordinary busy noise of the city goes on just outside his focus, a subtle, stabilizing comfort even months after the Netherbrain’s defeat.

When he glances up from his work, a distinct figure catches his eye amongst the passersby. Rolan, with his proud bearing and his regal blue and red robes, coming toward the smithy with a tense, bothered scowl and his tail lashing behind him. A smile touches Dammon’s lips. He knows that look.

“I’ll be with you in a moment,” he says as Rolan comes to a stop an awkward few feet from the halfling waiting on her sword.

“Well, don’t take too long,” Rolan snaps, and then reddens further when Dammon raises an eyebrow at him. “Sorry. I’ll just—I’ll wait.”

Dammon lifts the blade off his anvil to study it. He smiles at the halfling as he passes her the sword.

“Give that a try. Come back if you need anything else.”

She moves off to the side to examine the blade, allowing Rolan to step up to the forge. He stands, arms crossed, his face flushed as he fixes Dammon with his bright yellow stare.

“Anything I can help you with, Rolan?” the blacksmith prompts.

Rolan sighs. He places his hands carefully on the edge of the anvil, glances again toward the halfling woman, and leans in toward Dammon.

“I need . . . Steel.”

Dammon breathes a good-natured chuckle.

“Come on,” he says, nodding over his shoulder toward the building. “I could use a break, anyway.”

#bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 fanfic #bg3 fanfic reviews #bg3 rolan #bg3 dammon

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colectingstrz · 11 months ago

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INCOMPATIBLE HARMONY

⤿ a beautiful passion of hatred driving a narrow pathway for foreign emotions and surging familiar ones.

𐙚 g: enimes to lovers, university au, fluff here and there, angst. wc: 10.6k w: one kiss and mentions of a parent passing p: Jay x f reader

𐙚 - like 70% proof read it’s so long I tried 😪

౨ৎ ˖ ࣪⊹ ౨ৎ ˖ ࣪⊹ ౨ৎ ˖ ࣪⊹ ౨ৎ ˖ ࣪⊹ ౨ৎ ˖ ࣪⊹ ౨ৎ ˖ ࣪⊹ ౨ৎ ˖ ࣪⊹ ౨ৎ ˖ ࣪⊹ ౨ৎ

Your mother always said, “Either kill or be killed,” and you regrettably learned the hard way. Life is not easy, and it never will be. You must work for your goals and eliminate any potential distractions, even if they are those you care about. Everything that matters is success. Yet with more independence and freedom of choice u start to crack a little straying further and further away from the motto showing weakness and vulnerability. Success no longer being your priority as you found your focus on a particular someone.

you certainly would not mind eliminating a specific individual , a pest.. a loud, foul mouthed, vile, obnoxious, beastly, filthy inconvenience such as park.

It's not surprising to hear Jay harbours the same feelings as you; it's almost romantic when you think about it. Two people with a passionate desire hatred for one another.

౨ৎ ˖ ࣪⊹

Unfortunately, your Monday became more dreary when you met him waiting outside your professor's door, whom you had intended to meet.

“What are you doing here” Jay ignored you and continued typing stuff on his phone. The sound of his fingers aggressively tapping on his screen bothered you. “Hello? You know it's rude to ignore somebody while they're addressing you.”

Finally, he raises his deep, dismal eyes to meet yours. “I'm so sorry your majesty I didn't like your tone” he said with a grin “what's wrong with my tone? this is how I always talk why are your..so dramatic” You crossed your arms, your tolerance dwindling as you endured this discourse.

“No... today your tone seems more boooorish” you raised an eyebrow at his strange choice of words; you had no understanding what he had just said, which irritated you even more. You despised the way he used sophisticated vocabulary as if he were from 1985. “Do you want to purposefully mislead me? What do you think because you use fancy phrases, you're better than me, you antiquated freak”

Jay grinned. You despised it when he smiled because it felt like he was mocking you, it made you feel little, and you despised every moment of it. “Intentionally yes I'm glad to see it's working it brings me joy to see u distressed-and confused when I mess with ur little narrow minded brain maybe if u spent ur time reading rather than selling ur self out at party's every weekend you would actually know what im saying half the time”

You close your eyes sighing loudly as you try to compose your anger. He was wrong so wrong

Jay smirked as he recognised he had won. Picking up his bag, he approaches you and gently pats over your shoulder, “What's wrong? Can't bite back? Better luck next time, love.” Before you could respond, he walks away, descending down the corridor, leaving you to throw an internal fit as you accept your defeat.

౨ৎ ˖ ࣪⊹

“Are you coming to Jake's party tonight? It's at his beach mansion” you shrug as you begin to gather your belongings from your desk. “I'm not sure... with this approaching test, I need time to study.” Yujin rolls her eyes, grasping your arm in a plea “Pleaaaaaaaaaaseeee I don't wanna go by myself it's just one party it's not going to ruin your perfect 4.0 GDA!” you lightly break free from her grasp, “correction it's GPA.. and stop clinging onto me like a leech I know damm well u have plenty of other friends if I don't come it's not the end of the world” She groans.

“What if it is the end of the world! your my best freind I want to go with you w..what if I pass out ?? What if I.. uh.. get lost” she blurs out nonsense and you watch in disbelief shaking your head, preparing to turn and leave.

“Park Sunghoon is comming by the way”

You come to a halt in your tracks, slowly turning around. “Really?..Are you saying that only to get me to co- “yes! Really, he's back from France now; there's no way he'll miss Jake's party.” You sigh deeply, pondering whether a single male who is cute is more essential than your future. “I'll think about it.” Yujin smiles, grabbing you in an embrace and showering you with thank yous as if you answered yes (deep down you know it was a yes as well), before she swiftly leaves for her next class.

What you felt for Sunghoon was like a disease, slowly devouring you from the inside out. You've been pinning for him since your first year of university, and you thought it was just a crush until it wasn't. Now, a year later, your feelings have grown stronger. You would do anything to be in the same space as him-not to talk just to admire from afar You were a woman of many words, but in this instance, Sunghoon was different. It's as if you lost the basic mechanics of communication when talking to him; it's too embarrassing to go through again, so you avoid it at all costs and prefer to admire his features . Even in group setting with your friends you keep your conversations to a minimum.

And, of course, evil forces decided to flirt with and entice you once more by bringing not just Sunghoon but also his pest of a friend Jay into your presence as you make your way down the hall to your next class.

“Oh hey y/n it's been a while” Sunghoon smiles as he embraces you cheerfully. “Oh..h..hi umm how was France and the skating Ice- um, I mean ice skating,” you mentally leaped in front of a bus and ran yourself over 76 times because of the idiotic mistake you just made in front of him. “The ice skating competition was good I should hear back in about a week if I've qualified for the semi finals how have you been?” He looks at you intently and quietly, waiting for your response, while Jay silently notes every element of your expression. Both of their stares made you feel little uneasy, as if you were a vase on display in a museum, attracting a lot of attention. You felt your palms start to sweat.

“That's great to hear! Um.. I've been alright just p..preparing for exams right now.” You give him a constant smile, attempting to distract him from your inability to pronounce a simple basic ass word. “Yikes, midterms.. Hope you do well-Oh! Are you going to Jake's party? Or are you going to study? Parties weren't always your thing” Just as you open your mouth to speak, a rat joins in on the conversation despite the fact that he was not invited.

“Sunghoon it seems you've been gone a while she loves parties I see her at them all with that yujin girl I'm sure she won't miss this one will you y/n?” You glare at Jay, directing your focus to him, and imagine all the horrible ways you would torture him for ruining a moment with your crush. “I'm sure she can speak for herself, and trust me, Jay y/n is not a party girl... well, I have a class to go to, so maybe I'll see you at the party,” he smiles one final time before walking away, leaving you and Jay in solitude.

“Do you lack basic manners? Why are you entering into a conversation that has nothing to do with you? He was talking to meeee the last time I checked, and your not y/n.”He shrugged, “My manners are perfect, thank you very much, and I'm open to adding my two cents wherever I want to; all I did was state the facts.” You roll your eyes and reposition your back to hang over your shoulder.

“Facts? Stop acting like you know me Jay, you don't. You're not my friend, you're not my anything. Stay out of my business and my life.” You leave him as quickly as you spoke, bumping your shoulder against his as you storm down the hall.

Something you said right then must have touched a chord, since Jay's mood plummeted for the rest of the day.

౨ৎ ˖ ࣪⊹

Parties are just mobs of people, the perfect place for germs to hibernate and circulate like wildfire, with loud music that bursts your eardrums, piles of sweaty bodies, and excessive amounts of alcohol. You don't see what Yujin sees in this type of activity, but the show must go on, and it's too late to back out now.

Deeper within the mashion are Jay, Jake Sunghoon, and Jungwon, who are playing pool round after round. “Sunghoon, did you find any hot French girls or what?”Jake asks, peeking over to see Sunghoon as he effortlessly knocks down two of his targets into the hole. “Ice skating pre occupied me.. plus I still like her”

Now that Jay has disconnected from his talk with Jungwon, his ears immediately peek up at the sound of Sunghoon's crush, and he listens in curiously. He rarely discusses such topics, especially after his heartache with his ex Chaewon.

“Her? Omg bro it’s been monthhhhs” sunghoon sighs “I know.. but she’s just really pretty and kind I really want to get to know her more this year” Jake laughs placing a hand on his chest “ get to know her? Last year you barely held a conversation with the girl u need to work on your game if u wanna bag a girl like y/n”

Jay lifts his brow in disbelief and confusion. Sunghoon liked you. Considering the millions of girls he could have picked. Jay was completely baffled. Great distress surged over him. He became so outraged that he could no longer bear to listen to the discourse. Jay turns to the pool table, leaving a perplexed Jungwon in the middle of his sentence.

“Do you like y/n? Really, dude? Raise your standards.” Jake's mouth drops agape at his comment, and Sunghoon crosses his arms. “Yeah, I like her, and what about it? I think She's a great girl, what's it to you?” Sunghoon now turns to Jay, looking him down. The mood in the room shifts, and Jungwon, who is watching from a distance, becomes anxious about what is going on.

“It's nothing to do with me I'm just looking out for you as a freind she's not a good person” Sunghoon doesn't say anything for a time and simply stares at Jay. “Maybe u haven't had a good experience with her.. that's your opinion but I've had good with her and I'll stick to my opinion thanks for the concern bro” Sunghoon turns, grabs his drink, and leaves the room.

Jay gulped, grabbing the edge of the pool table firmly in rage. How could Sunghoon not realise what an awful person you were? All he wanted was to look out for him. Again, everything is always your fault. Jay groans as he steps outdoors, leaving the manshion.

He walks outdoors on the sidewalk, trailing his feet. He stares ahead to the shore, watching the clam ripples of water. He groans and walks on, but he comes to a halt when he notices you coaching against the wall with your head down.

He immediately becomes enraged again; it was your fault he was out here, and it was your reason he got into a fight with Sunghoon. He comes up to you talking this opportunity to throw a dig “so much for not being a party girl look at you here all drunk and wasted outside on the floor no self composure what so ever”

He waits, but your witty retort never arrives. He lifts his brow lightly, bending down to shove you, but is met once more with the presence of stillness. Jay feels an awful discomfort in his gut. He bends down to get a closer look, only to find your eyes closed and your hand grasping your chest while you breathe extensively.

“Y/n?… Hey y/n” he holds your shoulder trying to urge a response. “t..to many..” he moves his head closer angling his ear towards you “repeat that for me” you muster all the strength in your body to speak “c..claustrophobic..I’m..clau..” Jay hums in realisation.

He thinks quickly on his feet sitting down on the concrete, reaching for your hand and replacing the one on your chest with his own. “Listen to me right now. I need you to breathe in and out slowly, with 3 seconds in between, okay? Can u do that for me” you weakly nod, obeying his directions.

Each time you did, he would lightly sweeze your hand in encouragement, giving you reassuring “well done’s”and “your getting there's” the whole affair felt strange to you. He was really pleasant, calm, patient, and caring towards you. It was rare for Jay this came out of nowhere, but you didn't question it and accepted it with open arms because you needed it.

Shortly after you find your self calm. But the lingering feeling of jays eyes on you as the two of you sit in silence was uncomfortable. You find your self subconsciously looking down to your feet playing with your fingers. “So.. your claustrophobic I never knew that” you shrug still looking down “well yeah.. it’s not a big deal anyways” he hummus “seems like a pretty big deal if it weren’t for me you would have passed out”

You roll your eyes “no I would have been fine this isn’t the first time I topically do this alone no assistance needed park” Jay humms again his hand reaching to cup your chin forcing you to raise your head and look at him. You were shocked at the sudden contact and the way his hand felt so warm againt your cold skin. “Well..um are you okay now looking at your face you seem it” he then used his hand to turn your head slightly as he analyses your face. “I’m..I’m fine thank you”

A tingly feeling perks within him but he shuts it down nodding removing his hand from your skin. The absence of warmth had you feeling cold again but you brushed it off. Jay suddenly stands up dusting dirt off his back and reaches out his hand to you “come I’ll drive you home I’m assuming you woukd rather not go back in there” he raises a brow you nod hesitantly accepting his hand as he wraps it around your firmly.

“My car is about a 10 min walk are u fine with that? Well doesn’t matter if ur not we still have to walk regardless just letting you know anyway” you laugh a little feeling the sense of familiarity again this was more like jay. More like the jay you knew more like the jay you were used too. Yet that feeling in your stomach didn’t leave.

“Don’t do this again” you raise a brow “pardon?” Jay turns to you “going out in the dark at night in some alley by yourself something easily could have happened to you and no one would be there to save you” you roll your eyes “I know u don’t actually care about what happens to me stop acting like you do plus.. I was close to the beach house I would have been fine” jay sighs shaking his head “belive it all not im not a horrible human being your a girl and that make sure automatically vulnerable alone at night im just warning you love”

You humm “just save me next time then” you finnaly turn to look at him awaiting his reaction as he silently looks at you not saying a word. You quickly look away now feeling awkward regretting your exsistnce.

“Pay me I’m not playing superman for free”

Now at the car it’s mostly silent but a comfortable silence never in your life would you think you would be in jays car having him drive you to your dorm but life is full of surprises isn’t it. Soon you arrive home giving him a Short and firm bye before heading to your door.

Little to your knowledge even once you have entered your dorm Jay remains in his car watching you until he sees the lights shine in ur room confirming you have settled.

౨ৎ ˖ ࣪⊹

Studying was supposed to be peaceful and quiet, but all of that was disrupted the moment you invited Jake to join you.

You wouldn't call him a nuisance, but he was more distracting than anything else. Every 4 minutes, he'd start chatting about strange stuff, and when he wasn't talking, he'd be toying with your hair or poking your check unless he was performing some random asmr with his pen. Sometimes you wish you could just duct wrap his mouth so he would stop talking.

“Jake... please I'm really trying to focus here you know I have an exam soon” he looks down as if you had just rejected or something it made you feel a little bad “Fine.. if you want me gone just say that!” He crosses his arms and looks away, and you sigh, rubbing his shoulder, “It's not that it’s just you talk too much, I need quiet... on second thought yeah, leave, we can hang out later.” You sigh and Jake's mouth opens wide at your unexpected change of direction, huffing silently as he turns to go.

Peace and quiet has made a comeback

You smile to yourself as you study, but as usual, your tranquilly is short-lived when you hear the loud smack of a book beside you. Looking up, there's no one but jay. You raise a curious eyebrow; hardly one visits this section of the library unless a friend tags along, and you've never seen Jay here.

“What brings you here you don't come here this is my space” Jay ignores you, bringing out his laptop, iPad, and any extra papers. “I've come here to study obviously your not the only one who has exams here and last time I checked your name isn't plastered anywhere here so this is everyone's space,” he smiles and returns to getting his stuff.

You groan, your gaze returning to your laptop to drown him out and remain focused. However, that was difficult to do given how fiercely he was looking at you.

“Um, is there a reason why you keep looking at me like that? It makes me uncomfortable.” Jay's eyes stay hanging on yours. “Looking at you? what is it a crime to look at another human being? Arrest me.” He rolls his eyes. You shake your head, closing your laptop and giving him your entire attention.

“Your looking at me like ur going to eat me alive I don't like it please direct your eyes Literally anywhere else” Jay chuckles, moving his head closer to the point your noses would almost just almost connect . “Maybe I should eat you so I don't have to hear your nagging every day. I'll devour you whole nice and slow..how does that sound?”

Unbeknownst to you, a flush rushed across your ears, to which Jay saw with a wide grin. “That's!..that's really inappropriate, Jay. You can't just say things like that to a woman.” He tilts his head, leaning closer. His hot breath stimulating your exposed skin.

“I didn't mean it in that way get your head out of the gutter you.. naughty girl tsk” he paused for a second before starting again “plus I don't really see you as a woman” you raise a brow in disbelief and offence.

“So you’re gay?”

He then abruptly moved back. “Gay? Don't make such a misleading statement; I'm really attracted to women.” You smile slightly, seeing this as an opportunity to twist him even further. “But if you do not view me as a woman, you must see me as a man? And you want to devour this man whole, don't you? Nice and slow Don't worry, your secret is safe with me,” you giggle, covering your mouth from laughing so hard as you watched the dread drown out his face, which turned pale.

“Shut up you’re always so loud and wrong you really think I like men?” You nod “this conversation is proof right here of the Jay is gay statement” Jay places his fingers gently squeezing his temple in vexation. He didn’t appreciate being accused of liking men when he clearly is straight and didn’t like that it was you out of all people.

But

Suddenly he felt the need-the urge to prove it to you he wanted to show you just how wrong you were he wanted to put you in your place and shut you up. So he did just that

Jay leans over in a matter of seconds, one hand behind your neck, the other yanking on your lanyard, forcing tight proximity as he slams his lips against yours. If someone walked in right now, they wouldn't believe their eyes. You didn’t belive it yourself.

His lips brushed against yours, softly and carefully, like you were fragile and he was scared to shatter or harm you. His lips graced yours like butterfly wings, just long enough for him to inhale your breath, feeling the warmth of your skin in his palm as he pulled you in deeper, and the flavour of your strawberry lipgloss lingered in his head, driving him insane.

As soon as it started it quickly ended as you somehow snapped back into reality and roughly pushed him for you. Not wanting to meet his gaze you turn hastily packing your things and leaving as quickly as possible. Leaving a stunned and confused Jay alone in the library.

You slide your back down the wall of an empty corridor, like a dramatic main lead In a teenage drama attempting to regain your calm and gain a grasp of what happened just a few seconds earlier. Were you crazy--or was he crazy? Why did he kiss you, and why was it so long? Most importantly, why did you like it? You loved it You smacked yourself to recover your focus. Choosing to disregard this portion of the day as if it never occurred so that you can sleep soundly tonight.

౨ৎ ˖ ࣪⊹

After ten minutes of overthinking your life choices in the lounge area, the bell rings for lunch. You grab your phone and text Yunjin to come meet you as soon as possible. She soon appears and sits next to you. You had intentions of telling her but you couldn’t bring yourself too

“What's so urgent that you nee- you having a bad makeup day?” You lift your eyebrow “What?” “My makeup is fine, what do you mean?" she shakes her head, pointing to your lips. “Not your entire makeup, just your lip makeup, it's all smudged.” Flickers of the kiss swarm in your thoughts, making you nauseous.

You quickly get out your mirror attempting to fix it.

“Jay can I ask you something?” Jay nods as he takes a bite out of his sandwich “you smell unusual today” Jay raises an eyebrow, causing Jungwon and Sunghoon to focus on Jake's words: “Yeah, I noticed you smelled kinda fruity today, like... starberries” Jungwon continues, causing Jake to nod in agreement, “I don't smell like that; you're probably smelling something else.”

Unknowingly, while Jay continued to eat, seemingly a little concerned by the claims, Sunghoon discreetly watched Jay, his gaze fixed on the faint hint of lipgloss on his lips.

“Oh my gosh... look at his lips, there's lipgloss. You must have had some action before lunchtime,” Jake wriggles his brows, elbowing Jay. He gulps uneasily, caressing his lip and instantly recalling what he had done; he closes his eyes in regret. “Unless…ur gay? Or something I don’t discriminate ” Jake patted his shoulder

“I knew it I knew u were gay” jay now shoots his head up at that voice your voice as you and yunjin approach his table. You and yunjin were freinds with the rest of jays freinds and sometimes would eat with them though yunjin would limit interactions with jay as by her words “any enemy of my friends is an enemy of mine”

“Jay is gay?” Sunghoon laughs and finally joins the conversation, “Jay and gay, that rhymes!” Jake yelled earning some looks directed at your table Jay simply scowls, “Shut up, both of you.” Jay stands up and grabs his bag and sandwich before leaving. You sighed with relief as he went; sitting directly opposite him seemed wired after what had happened.

It appears that both of you failed to sleep well that night, so you spent it studying to pass the time, while Jay spent it twisting and turning in his bed, extremely upset and ashamed by his irresponsible behaviour. He wishes he could go back in time and prevent it from ever happening.

However, the burning sensation in his chest could not be ignored, and the taste of your strawberry lipgloss lingered on his tongue. He closed his eyes, remembering the taste and feel of your soft lips on his.

The next day was difficult, primarily because you had a council meeting, and of course the vice president had to be Jay, and you the head sadly had a private meeting every 15th, which left you two sitting in an office in silence

“Sooooo..” You spoke but no other words left your lips “should we reschedule this meeting at this rate we will make no progress if you can't even look me in the eye” you grimace a little

“Maybe if a certain somone didn’t just pull up and force themselves onto me I could look them in the eye” you whisper slightly folding your arms turning away. “Force? I didn’t force myself onto you it was mutual” you raise a brow “was it how?”

“You kissed me back and even added your tongue a little; you were clearly into it and wanted it- “shut up please” you placed your fingers on his lips, shushing him before he could humiliate you any further. “Can we change the subject I’m begging” Jay wanted to say more, but judging by your tone and look, he held back.

“Sorry” now, for the first time since this meeting began, you choose to look him in the eye “it was wrong of my to just kiss you out of nowhere I didn't respect your boundaries and I apologise” stunned, you remained silent for a moment before answering “thank you Jay” you smile a little for a split second before it fades away, not wanting to smile for too long because it's Jay after all.

He nods “can we like.. forget this ever happened” you don’t know what it is that you felt then but it was unsettling. You gulped it down agreeing with jays words. “Then let’s start this meeting then”

After a long 30-minute meeting, you and Jay split ways. You go to the library again because you have some free time and run into Sunghoon along the way. You consider many options for running. It's too late; he's already noticed you and invited you to come over.

“hi Sunghoon,” he smiles, waving, “hi y/n, so... do you have any free time right now?” You said, with a nod, “wanna come watch me practise at the rink?” You nodded again, but this time with too much enthusiasm, like a dog. You were embarrassed, but it was difficult to contain your excitement.

౨ৎ ˖ ࣪⊹

It was chilly. Fortunately, Sunghoon, being the gentleman he is, offered you his puffer, and even though you declined it 15 times, he insisted on forcing you to put it on and zipping you up. The attention in this situation felt good.

You stared in admiration as he skated; he was truly in his element, doing what he does best. You were captivated by how beautifully he swirled and twirled. You hoped you could watch him every day if your schedule wasn't so busy. Interrupting your little display, Yujin texted you.

Yapper: me and the guys are comming over the the rink to ice skate do you wanna come with?

Me: I’m already there? I’m watching Sunghoon practice :)))

Yapper : ARE U LOT ON A ICEY SKATEY DATE? ARE WE INTERRUPTING

Me: NO. He just asked since I also had a free you guys can still come it would be fun I’ll let Sunghoon know

Yapper: if you say so 👀 and btw your bestie is comming

Me: shut up you know dam well he’s not my “bestie” call him that again and I’ll block you

Calling out to Sunghoon, you step down and stand at the edge so he can hear you. “The others are coming down to skate by the way." Sunghoon nods. “Is Jay coming?” You're confused as this was such an unusual and precise inquiry to ask; he should just assume he's coming. You wanted to question further.

“Why are you asking? Is there a reason he shouldn't come?" Sunghoon hastily shakes his head, “I was only wondering—“why? Did something happen?” Sunghoon shakes his head again, “no, I just want to know that's all,” you humm, not believing a word he says. It's times like these that your psychology major comes in handy it was obvious he was lying to you. “Jay is coming”

Soon after they arrived, as you had previously briefed Sunghoon, he prepared and distributed everyone's skates. Jake eagerly put on his skates, excited and ready to go and followed Sunghoon towards the rink. Even when Jungwon and Yujin joined, you still struggled to put on your left shoe.

You attempted to fit your foot in again but failed. You were ready to give up and just watch instead.

“Are you gonna cry over an ice skate?” He teased triggering your frown “No!..this is just really hard” you turn back and try to put it back on for the fifth time. Jay rises up and crouches down in front of you, keeping the shoe in place.

“What are you—“helping I'm helping you, dumbass I'm holding the shoe in place so you can put your foot in, go on.” You comply, pushing your foot in with ease. Before you could reach down to tie the lace, Jay beats you to it, tapping your foot lightly once he's finished. “Thanks” Jay hummed as he turned to leave. Realisation came over you immediately, and you grabbed the hem of his jeans. “Wait, I don't think I can walk on my own. Just help me to the entrance” Jay grumbled, carrying your body up with ease.

“I'll just hold your hand the whole way and bring you to Yujin alright” you agreed, and he now held your hand in his, and you felt the warmth again, just like that night. You didn’t want to let go. Though from afar a pair of flaming eyes watched the scene unfold

“Come on Sunghoon I'm showing you my spin!” Jake yelled as he dragged Sunghoon's arm, diverting his attention. Despite this, Sunghoon cast glances at you and Jay as you entered the rink hand in hand, like some corny couple, and clinched his teeth in anger.

“This is so scary!” Jay glances at you, “You haven't done this before?” You shake your head. “No... this is all new to me, which is why I couldn't do my other shoe properly.” Jay now turns to you, putting your other hand in his. “Do you want me to show you something? I won't let go; don't worry, I'm not the evil creature you see me to be” his comment makes you chuckle “you sooo are if there wasn't any witness I'm so confident you would let go and leave me to fall” Jay rolls his eyes and begins to skate backwards slowly. “w..woah there What are you doing!? What if you bumb into someone! And then boom I fall have an accident and crack my head open and blee-“shh..clam down love im a pro.. I know exactly what im doing now watch and learn newbie”

Jay effortlessly glides backwards, occasionally whirling the two of you in a circle, abruptly changing from fast to slow and slow to fast. It made you a little disoriented, but it was entertaining. Soon, your freinds took notice.

“ I never thought I would see jay and y/n that close to eacother with out any violence involved” jungwon said with a smile “same.. when i look at them now it's kinda cute don't you think ?” Yujin seems complexly clueless of Sunghoon's crush on you: “uh.. nahh, I don't see it”Jake rushes in and shuts off that particular issue, mindful of Sunghoon's facial expression. Jake quickly skates towards the two of you and splits you up.

“Hey guysss y/n I wanna show u somthing come” Jake takes your hands, replacing Jay's warm ones with his chilly ones and yanking you away from him. You felt empty again, and you weren't sure why.

After approximately an hour of ceaseless skating, the others left for ice cream, but you, Jay, and Sunghoon decided to go to study. It felt odd walking back to campus; you could sense the tension, as if you knew something had happened and wanted to know more.

Before u had the chance to bring it up Sunghoon departed calming “something came up” leaving you and Jay alone. It was silent but a comfortable silence you kept talking glances at Jay really only because he kept talking glances at you he seemed he wanted to say somthimg so you gave him the green light

“I know u have something to say don’t be a pussy” Jay chocked on air at the sudden directness “well.. if you say so then please just here here me out when I say this but I really need something form you it’s kinda last minute but your the only option I have” You nodd urging him to talk “my mom is hosting one of her business events but during it she wants to set me up with a daughter of one of her brand partners but shes..she’s I can’t stand her really and..I was wondering-hoping actually if you can step in just for tonight as my temporary date so my mom doesn’t set me with her…??” Jay closes his eyes expecting the worst yet you say nothing he opens your eyes to observe you

Your countenance gradually changes, and you burst out laughing, “Jay, I never took you for the funny type, oh my..” Jay doesn't find any of this funny and frowns “I'm being serious y/n” you glance at him and your face slowly lowers as you realise he is genuinely serious “ well first of all, I don't wanna be dragged into y'all's rich people drama before they assassinate me in my sleep or some shit” Jay throws his hands in the air “no!..no this is real life not some tv show bs your overthinking this nothing bad is going to happen its just one night stop being dramatic!”

“I am not finished. Second, you don't really like me, and I don't really like you, so it makes no sense that we act like a couple. Third, I'm sure someone else would be better for this... you're not all that dumb, so no way I'm a contender.” Jay sighs, recognising that convincing you will be more difficult than he expected. He lays his hands on both shoulders and shoots you with an expression of great desperation.

“I can't ask anyone else; it's this night, and I'm running out of time. You're the only person I think can handle or tolerate my mother. I really need this, please. I'll do everything, give you anything, just do me this one favour.” You place your finger on your chin and tap it, trying to prolong this moment enjoying every second of jays expression. You glance into his yearning stare. “Hmm, I don't know..” Jay holds your shoulder more tightly than previously. “Please y/n you owe me I've helped you 2 times now this is the least you can do for me” you let out a sigh giving in “sure give me 50k” Jay opens his mouth in surprise at the outrageous quantity.

“Oh that’s not..” you sigh “you said anything this classifies as anything your rich aren’t you? You’re basically a walking bank! this should be nothinggg” Jay sighs “fine..but only after you have gone I’ll send it to you understood” you nod “if this is what its like to have a sugar daddy..then I’ll gladly come to every event can you imagine? 50k per event I might as well drop out of uni and start travelling the world” Jay chuckles at your imagination he found you amusing.

“I think I'm a bit young to be a sugar daddy plus I would never willingly wanna spoil a brat like you someone like you needs discipline” your smile dimes kissing your teeth you pinch his arm earning a groan

“What makes you think I want you to be my sugar daddy!? I'm not a brat, and I don't deserve to be disciplined at all, especially by someone like you. Take your own advice.” Jay hums, “You want to discipline me? Didn’t know you were into that” He smirked, leading you to glance away. “Why are you saying it that way!..You're so weird Jay, this is why you don't get any girls because you're a fucking creep.” He laughs, wiping an imaginary tear from his eye.

“yet your going to a fancy event with this creep tonight aren’t you?”

౨ৎ ˖ ࣪⊹

Another thing you didn't expect was Jay to be in your dorm room, just you and him. Jay had bursted in pushing some bags into your chest.

“What's this?” He rolls his eyes. “Are you blind?” It's obviously shopping bags full of clothes and shoes. Use your common sense...anyway, I chose this outfit out for you, so go and wear it; the party is in an hour.” You grumble in irritation, going to the bathroom to change.

You would have preferred that instead of parting ways after the conversation, he had informed you of the timing so you could have begun working on your hair and makeup instead of turning up to close to the time where you were in your lounge wear

After getting ready, you come out and present yourself to Jay. It was a long wine-colored green dress shoulder less showing your collarbone. The sleeves ended at your wrist, slightly flared. It embraced your curves, trailing down to the floor and encompassing your body--in a wonderful manner. Jay matched it with gold earrings that flowed down, a simple necklace with a diamond in the centre, and low heels. Jay hummed in fulfilment, looking down at you from top to bottom.

“How do I look?” Jay nods, “You look good, so good I'll turn straight for you.” You smile and laugh at his comment. It seemed he did have a sense of humour. You excuse yourself shortly rushing to do your hair and makeup while Jay is getting ready in your room. Shortly after, you emerge, stunned to discover his finished look.

He was dressed in an all-black suit with a black turtleneck, which wonderfully highlighted his features, particularly his jawline. You didn't want to acknowledge it, but he looked great. You subconsciously ogled at him, and Jay smiled proudly. “You like what you see love?” You shake your head, “Meh, it's fine I guess.” Jay grins to himself at how quickly you denied, as if your mouth didn't water at the sight of him. “Well then let's get going wouldn't want to be late now would we”

Soon you arrive. Jay comes out and opens your door, assisting you out of the vehicle and locking it behind him. He rests his hand on your waist, but he soon removes it. You turn to him “Can I put my hands there? Are you okay with that?” You nod gently, reassuring him. He places his hand back there, confirming to you the warmth you didn't realise you were missing. It made you feel at ease.

You both walk in while Jay greets all these people you don't recognise. To say you felt out of place is an understatement; you were dressed appropriately, but you didn't feel the part. Soon, a woman appeared, and from her appearance, you could tell she was Jay's "scary" mother, his words not yours.

“Hello, my lovely boy. Oh! And who could this be? Jay smiles and pulls you closer, “This is my date y/n.. and y/n this is my mother.” You bow and smile at her. “hello it's lovely to meet you Mrs park” His mother looks you over, looking for flaws to criticise you for. She stiffly smiles, but you know it's not genuine. “Hello there dear.. it's a pleasure to meet you. What do your parents do hmm?” You gulp.

Clearly, you and Jay did not think this through; you had not prepared anything, so you simply stated the truth. “My father was a senior clinical psychologist and my mother is a paralegal” she hums as she takes a sip of her drink. “So your parents aren't doing so well,” “ah.. what a same” you wrinkle a brow, “pardon? What do you mean by that, Mrs. Park,” she shrugs.

“A psychologist? Might as well have been a doctor, far more money, and a paralegal, was it not enough to not just be a lawyer, maybe she failed law school? I guess.. everyone has to find a means to get by."

Your rage must have been obvious. Jay gently squeezed your waist, rubbing it slightly. You couldn't tell if it was to calm you down or a warning not to overreact, but you moved on impulse. No one would speak about your parents, especially your father, who had passed away.

“Listen here..Mrs Park. I do not appreciate your comments regarding my parents' employment. As you seem to be unaware about, a psychologist is a very wonderful vocation. My father was the head of his own business and owned it; he worked in private health care. He earned a lot of money, more than enough to fucking survive…” you took a deep breath to gain composure “Oh! and for your information, I'm also studying psychology so that when I'm older, I can be as successful as my father-and just because my mother isn't in the spotlight of a law profession doesn't mean her work is any less important; she does all of the behind-the-scenes paperwork without the help of others like her , lawyers would have nothing to present in court. I’m sure you didn’t know that since your mindset is clearly limited”

Mrs park gasps and opens her mouth to inject but you cut her off “My mother makes a lot of money; she's not a billionaire, but she lives nicely and has raised me and my brothers comfortably, so do your research before you start talking down on jobs.” You handed Jay your drink and turned away to leave.

Jay's mother was taken aback because no one had ever spoken to her like that before. She was silent; you chewed and spat her out. As yunijin would say “you ate that girl” Jay was fairly pleased of how you stood up for yourself in the face of disagreements. One thing he liked about you was that no matter who it were, you held firm for what you believed in and never gave in to anyone else. “That insolent, arrogant brat! How could she!?” Jay turned to his mother. “She may be a brat at times, but she is not arrogant in general please stop from talking about my date in any unfavourable way, mother…” Jay quickly turned to walk after you.

You sigh as you step out onto a random balcony, embracing the chill. You lean on the edge, looking over the neighbourhood and gazing at the stars.

“The sky is beautiful isn't it?” You humm your eyes, not leaving what is in front of you. “Are you trying to flirt with me right now?” He rolls his eyes “maybe.. is it working love?” you smirk “if anything im turned off repulsed even disgusted it- “alright no need to over do it like I'm some creature who lacks in every ability to charm a woman” you look him in the eye “maybe you are? But one things for sure you certainly did not charm ms back there park. Neither your mother but that’s not the focus”

Jay's smile shrivels under the implications of your words, and he moves closer to you. “Listen.. my mother, like I said, she's scary, and it's hard to voice my opinions against her.” You cross your arms. “I get that, but she basically humiliated and billeted my parents. I know we're not close, but even if you said something or tried to stop her, I'd have appreciated feeling like im not on my own back there...you know? But I think I anticipated too much from you.”

Jay sighed. “What do you mean by that, and what are you trying to say? Trust me, I wanted to say something but couldn't bring myself to…” “ I'm sorry, I really wish I said something. I didn't like how she talked to you either, and I want to take accountability for that because she's my mother. I feel partly responsible, especially since I brought you here; it's my fault. I'm so sorry, y/n, and I completely understand if you just want to leave, you can I won't force you to stay.”

You turn and move approach him. You had no idea what possessed you to do such a thing, but before you realised it, you had placed a palm on his cheek, cupping it. “Honestly, everything is fine. I get where you're coming from. I don't know about your relationship with your mother, but if it's as difficult as you claim, I'll go with it. It's fine; I handled everything on my own rather well, didn't I?” You smile to yourself with pride. “I’m an independent woman after all”

Jay returned the same look, and if it hadn't been so dark, you would have noticed how bright his cheeks were at the contact of your cold hands “I like my women independent” he winked at you, causing you to quickly retreat your hand back using it to hit his chest “s..stop it” Jay smiles “would you believe me if I told you I stayed silent because I knew you were going to jump in so there was no need..haha” you flick him in the arm, making him yelp “don't make me change my mind park” jay quickly shook his head “just a jokey joke..” You smile as you move towards the door, “No worries then let's continue what we started”

The rest of the night went nicely; Jay's mother scowled at you the entire time, but never said anything, which you appreciated, and the meal was as good as you expected. “So this is what you affluent people do when you're bored?” he shrugs. “I suppose so.. I have these all the time” “How do you have time to prepare for midterms? Especially if it's 11 p.m. and no one appears ready to go home” you raise a brow awaiting his reaction “well... I make it work and quit interviewing me” you frown

“I am not interviewing you. I am only asking some inquiries. Can't a girl be curious?” he rolled his eyes, “you seem too curious for someone who doesn't like me”

“Well maybe I don't like you a little less than before” Jay raises an eyebrow, querying how you worded your sentence “Clearly, you visit the library, but not enough. Your sentence is grammatically incorrect nevertheless, I know how to decode the drivel you spew, therefore I understand you.” As usual, Jay had to find a way to irritate you. “If you understand me, you could have just said thank you and called it a night.” Jay laughs, looking at his watch.

“Like you said it's getting late we have class tommrow come on let's go I'll drive you home” you nod “loving the jays girlfriend experience it's a shame you have such as attitude for that I'll rate it a 7/10” Jay stands up with his hand against your back, guiding you through the crowd. “A 7/10? Come on, I treated you well tonight; I even gave you this lovely outfit and shoes, and I- “woah, woah, cool down, I was just kidding.. you've been so sweet to me today I’ve basically fallen in love with you at this point” you smile.

“Your in love with me?” You hum “I said basically doesn’t mean I actually am don’t get my words twisted I know how badly you want me and all..” you wait for his response yet all he does is stare at you with a look. A particular look you recognise, the look he gave you before he kissed you that day. Was he going to do it again? You secretly hoped he would.

“Y/n actually I- Jay! Is that you my favourite nephew I’ve been looking everywhere for you!”

Dispite the interruption Jay isn't sure what hit him, but he wanted to make you smile like that again and again, and he yearned for another time when he could be alone with you and do whatever he wanted.

౨ৎ ˖ ࣪⊹

From that day onwards You and Jay were near each other more from the start. You studied together, spent your spare time together, and even greeted each other in the hallway. While you still had some arguments and words flung back and forth, they were less frequent and less sour and bitter.

“Jay Jay Jay jaayyyyyyy” he hummed as you poked his cheek. He felt the sharp agony of your acrylics scraping his cheque, but not wanting to upset you, he took the pain silently, allowing you to do whatever you pleased. “I've been thinking we should go out,” he shoots his head up. “G..go out really ?” You agree, “Yeah, there's this cool bowling place that opened about 15 minutes away from campus; we should go together.” Jays smile dropped as glad as he was to go with you, he was hoping it was to “go out with you,” if you catch the drift

But Jay was happy that you were happy and that’s what matters now. Your closeness to eacother was somthing Your friends soon all picked up on yet no one questioned it too much because they were relieved that everyone in the group was now on good terms.

But was that really the case?

What was supposed to be a relaxed atmosphere transformed into an uneasy, uncomfortable quiet. Jay Jake Sunghoon and Jungwon are present, but despite the normal cheerful environment, today no one speaks.

“So.. what's up guys..” Jake sought to break the silence but received no response. He sighs and sinks into the chair, succumbing to defeat. “Actually Jake..” Sunghoon answers “I wanna know what's up too” he speaks addressing Jake, but his eyes are straight on Jays, and Jay understands precisely what he is talking about.

“If you have somthing to say just be straight with me Sunghoon” he clicks his tongue againt his check growing agitated “what I can’t seem to understand.. is how you wanted me to stay away from her so bad because she’s a “bad person” yet all of a sudden your associating yourself with you even hanging out with her privately which you never did before..”

“Honestly I wish I could give you a straight answer for that.. but I can't really explain how I feel and I'm sorry for how I acted back then towards you about it I shoukd have just been true with my intentions” he said “then what are your intentions” Jay gulped, little nervous beneath his gaze, “I like her too, Sunghoon, and I think I always have..maybe ”

The room fell silent as Sunghoon's eyes ramined on Jay's eyes, twitching fingernails digging into his skin as his skin redness became sore. “I feel like such a fool.. my best friend has been lying to me all this time I knew it that day with the smell it was y/n's I smelled the same when I invited her to ice skate with me.. you've been lying under my nose this whole time kissing her doing god knows what with he for all I know! when I expressed my fucking interest in her!” Jay felt terribly awful for how it all played out. He wished things had been different, he wished he had never liked you or that sunghoon had never liked you in the first place, but it was too late.

“Sunghoon, I-“save it” he stood up, grabbing his bag departing. Jay gazed down with regret. Jake sighed and hurriedly stood up to follow, while Jungwon remained behind to check on Jay.

Straight after class you proceed to the lounge and in the corner you find Jay and Jungown. You approach them ready to say high until you catch on to the vibes. As you gaze at their looks bewildered, you pry

“Guys? Is everything alright?” They both glance at you silently. Jay says nothing at first but mutters a brief “I'll talk to you later” as he collects his things and leaves. Jungwon tags along, giving you an apologetic look as he departs, leaving you perplexed and alone to ponder your feelings.

Jay has distanced himself since that day. Perhaps you would have preferred not to see his face back then, but the you now dreaded it. He became part of your routine, something you looked forward to, and now it's as if it never happened. You waved at him in the canteen one day, he looked away, (ouch) the next you asked him a question, he got up and left, the other at the store he made eye contact with you and went into another section , you called, he declined, you texted, he was online but left you on delivered.

It's almost pathetic how badly you wanted to talk to him despite the fact that he ignored you every time, but you didn't want to give up; you had some hope that he'd ultimately talk to you, but he didn't.

Yujin was becoming concerned about your state; you stopped hanging out with the others at lunch, you didn't respond to the group chat despite being the most active, you stayed in your dorm most of the time and stopped going out with everyone, and when you did, you looked tired and drained this wasn't like you at all.

“What could I have done wrong yujin.. I don’t understand we were so fine like 2 weeks ago then boom ghosted” yujin sighed as she pattered your back in attempts to comfort you she truely didn’t understand either “I really don’t know.. it seems you guys were fine from what I saw maybe it’s a him issue”

౨ৎ ˖ ࣪⊹

Now it's the 15th, the day you dreaded. You had no idea how you would deal with Jay, or if he would even show up, because he now appears to despise you. You felt your stomach churn, which was a restless sensation. Taking the deepest breath your body could bear, you opened the door to see Jay sitting with some papers and reading them. You silently step in, locking the door behind you and sitting a few seats away while bringing out your paperwork.

Silence. As you expected

But impulsively it felt like the one chance you had to receive answers and closure because there were no excuses for him to run away and ignore you. “Jay” he hummed, not looking up, “why are you ignoring me? Have I done something wrong?” Jay doesn't say anything for a moment but eventually says “no”

“Why am I getting silent treatment then? And look at me when I'm talking to you.” Jay sighs softly, looking up to meet your gaze, and immediately lowers in sorrow as he sees your expression. “I've been wondering for weeks what I must have done to irritate you.. but I can't put my finger on it. We were getting there, Jay and we were getting along..then you just cut me off out of nowhere. What was the point if you were just going to do this? You might as well have just let me live my life, but no you made things complicated.”

“I..I'm sorry” you scoff in incredulity. He's not sorry; if he was, he wouldn't have done this to you in the first place if he cared enough. “ If you were sorry, you would not treat me this way, or... is this the goal to make me like you so you can then mess with my emotions!? and make me feel like shit since you despise me so much? If so well done actor of the fucking year.. you fooled me for sure.” You shake your head standing up, Jay replicates your movement, reaching out quickly seizing your wrist.

“Hey... no, no, it's not like that at all! Please hear me out. I didn't want to handle things this way” you sharply, remove your hands from his grip. The warmth he once gave you feeling disgusting It's as if a switch went off in your head, erasing any developing feelings and replaced them with what you once knew.

“What? Want to mislead me again with your lies and restart the cycle? Cut it out, Jay, you've won! Are you pleased with your achievements? Are you satisfied? And to think I thought we could someday... well, it doesn't matter anymore, does it? I don't want anything to do with you, Jay.” Jay was frustrated and scared, and he didn't know what to do. He attempted to convince you, but you refused to listen.

You turn to leave, ignoring his pleads. “Jay, if you know what's good for you, stay away from me right now. You've been doing so well lately, I'm sure it won't be a problem for you. Keep up the good work goodbye Jay,” you turn away, slamming the door behind you, leaving Jay to linger in remorse.

In frustration, he smashed his fists against the table, turning red. He was extremely angry. Angry at himself for being so dumb and small-minded; if he had just been honest with you, maybe things would have been different. Jay wasn't sure what to call it, but it felt like heartbreak more than anything. A wave of anguish overtook him, robbing him of appetite. He felt intense pain in his midsection, like if a shard had sliced through his gut. It felt like death, like despair, choking his body's breath and shutting down his brain effecting his ability to think.

With each passing day, you take another step away from him leaving him in the dark as he once did to you , roles now reversed he feels the same pain you did. despite his constant request and pleas that you show some signs. Your eyes show him distrust, and an averted stare.

“She's leaving today she didn't even say goodbye” Jake frowns and looks down as Jay strides into the room, reading a brow. “Who's leaving?” Jake and Yujin froze. “Uh.. no body jay it's nothing” he crosses his arms “tell me” Yujin keeps her mouth shut to keep her world safe, whereas Jake blabbers your secret under even the slightest pressure.

“Y/n! She is travelling for Canada today- her flight is at 8:45” Jake hurriedly covers his lips while Yunjin slaps him harshly on the shoulder “your so... useless,” she sighs in annoyance now looks at Jay "if your thinking of going don't bother there is no way you will make it in an hour she will be gone and wants nothing to do with..”

Yunjin halts in her sentence in shock as Jay speeds out his room you could practically feel the gust of wind from the speed at which Jay ran to his car. This was his last chance he had to at least try maybe now maybe now you would be willing to talk to him and sourt things out he needed and has been yurning to be in your Presence for so long

You sighed as you waited in queue to board your flight. Was this a hasty decision? Perhaps would it would improve your mental health 100%, especially since it was only for the rest of the academic year you needed this time for yourself. As you go through your playlist, you select a song and discreetly hum along to it, closing your eyes and immersing yourself in the music.

“Y/n!”

You were so engrossed in your music that you missed Jay desperately calling out your name as you made your way to the front, scanning your passport and pulling your bags closer to the jet. Jay worried and tried to get closer to you, but the airport was packed with people "y/n!" He called for you again.

But it was too late your figure was gone.

You wonder occasionally if you and Jay were actually incompatible , and how two wrongs may function together so strangely. Was your perfect harmony a lie?. Was it only temporary, or was it even there at all?-Or simply a thought you deluded yourself into thinking since you craving his attention so much.

You guess you will never know and neither will he.

౨ৎ ˖ ࣪⊹ ౨ৎ ˖ ࣪⊹ ౨ৎ ˖ ࣪⊹ ౨ৎ ˖ ࣪⊹ ౨ৎ ˖ ࣪⊹ ౨ৎ ˖ ࣪⊹ ౨ৎ ˖ ࣪⊹ ౨ৎ ˖ ࣪⊹ ౨ৎ

ᝰ.ᐟ - note : after being gone for moths I’ve finnaly had the motivation to writeeee. This has taken me days hopefully you enjoyed and thank you for reading ૮₍ ˶•⤙•˶ ₎ა

@SOOTREEPEAR

#sootreepear #enhablr #en web #jay x y/n #jay enha #jay x you #park jongseong #jongseong x reader #jongseong angst #enhypen jongseong #jay fanfic #enhypen jay #jay enhypen #enhypen x reader #jay x reader #enhypen #enhypen fic #enhypen fanfiction #enha

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