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triptuckers · 3 years

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Honesty - Kaz Brekker x reader

Request: oh hell yea "I saw we could send in requests which you don’t need to tell me twice bc I have some things in mind if that’s okay? I had an idea for a Kaz x female reader where he’s had feelings for you for the longest time but has never acted upon those feelings due to his trauma. Until one day something doesn’t go as planned during a Dregs job because his thoughts are with you and he lost his focus for just a moment. This is the moment he realises he has to talk to you about his crush on you but when he looks for you he notices you somewhere secluded in the arms of Jesper making out. How would he react to the fact that the girl he has had feelings for has been secretly dating his right hand? Lots of angst if that’s okay? 😬" Pairing: Kaz Brekker x reader (plus some slight Jesper x reader) Summary: When Kaz finally figures out his feelings for you, and wants to tell you about it, he finds something he wasn't prepared to see Warnings: angst oh god so. much. angst. let's see what else uhh mentions of violence, bruises, language, kaz being a lil jealous jerk Word count: 2.6K A/N: this is the one yall I got this request and HA I was so ready to write some heartbreaking angst, get ready for this one (also I wasnt sure if I had to tag this as kaz x reader of jesper x reader, but as you can see I went with kaz) TAG LIST (grishaverse): @ayushmitadutta @mrs-brekker15 @dancingwith-sunflowers @thegirlwiththeimpala @parker-natasha @story-scribbler @romanoffstarkovs @daliareads @meiitanoia @itsnotquimey @sanktaesperanza @whymyparentscheckmyphone @aleksanderwh0r3 @ilovemarvelanne1 @marlenaisnthappy TAG LIST (Kaz Brekker): @mufnasa @Janesofia7 @stairscortana add yourself to my tag lists here

Because it was a one-person kind of job and it involved picking quite a few locks, Kaz told the crows to take the night off, while he took care of it.

Given that it was very rare for Kaz to tell you all that you could have the night off, neither of you was stupid enough to question it. Instead, you all wished him good luck and took off to do all those things you normally missed out on when you were away on a job.

Everyone trusted Kaz to be able to handle a simple job on his own. You'd spend enough time with him to know he'd be alright.

And he was.

It was indeed a simple job, all Kaz had to do was sneak into a merchant's home, pick the lock of the safe in the office, steal an important contract between two merchants, and get out.

Part of him liked the solitude of wandering around a big house in the dark. But another part of him wished you'd be there with him. Kaz had shook his head to get you out of his mind, and continued to do the thing he needed to do.

After successfully completing the job and getting the contract he needed, Kaz is standing in front of a closed door, listening for any sounds in the hallway on the other side of the door.

His minds wanders off to you again.

You'd wished him good luck before he walked out the door, and you'd given him one of you signature smiles. Saints, he loved your smile.

He was sure you could fix anything, all you had to do was smile at him. You comforted him in so many ways, and you probably had no idea. Though you could figure it out if you sensed something was going on.

The clues were all right there, all you had to do was find out all the times he asked for you help were all just excuses to be able to spend more time with you.

It was stupid, really. He would invite you up to his office to go over plans for a job, even though he had figured it all out already. He'd pair the two of you on jobs. He did anything to be able to spend time with you.

A cloud slowly moves through the night sky, allowing the moon to illuminate the room. The sudden light abruptly brings Kaz back to reality.

He'd been standing in front of the door for way too long, just thinking about you. He curses himself for losing his focus. For allowing himself to get so lost in his thoughts on you.

Kaz really needs to do something about it. It's almost embarrassing how starstruck he is by you. And he really can't have you distract him on a job like that again, even if you're not in the room with him.

After listening again for sounds in the hallway, Kaz slowly pushes the door open. Upon discovering the hallway is empty, he steps out of the office and makes his way to the front door of the house.

All the way back to the Slat, he's thinking of ways on how to tell you. He's never been really good at talking about his feelings. And he wants to make sure he tells you the right thing. The last thing he wants is to stutter to try and find the words to say to you.

Eventually, he settles on just getting you alone first. He'll figure out what to say after that.

The walk to the Slat takes a while, given that the Barrel is on the other side of Ketterdam. His leg starts to ache but he ignores it, he'd endured worse.

When he finally sees the Slat in the distance, he notices there are still some lights burning. The window of your room is dark. Kaz hopes you're just sitting downstairs.

But when he enters the kitchen, it's nearly empty. Except for Nina, who is sitting there having a cup of tea before bed.

'Hey!' she says. 'How'd it go?'

In response, Kaz shows her the folded piece of paper.

Nina grins. 'Told you it would be an easy job for you.' she says.

'It was.' says Kaz. 'Have you seen Y/N?'

To his surprise, Nina starts smirking.

'Oh yeah, I've seen Y/N.' says Nina. 'She went out back a while ago.'

Kaz moves to walk to the back door but Nina speaks up again.

'Kaz, I wouldn't do that if I were you.' says Nina. 'I don't think she wants anyone to see her.'

He gives her a confused look, not noticing the playful look in Nina's eyes. He then starts to worry about you. Did something happen to you? Why didn't you want anyone to see you?

Kaz quickly walks to the door and opens it, ignoring Nina who yells at him not to do so. He abruptly freezes in the doorway.

You're indeed there, but you're not alone. A tall figure, who Kaz quickly identifies as Jesper, has you pinned to the wall of the alley.

Aside from the street lamp, it's completely dark. It's hard to tell which limps belong to you and which ones belong to Jesper.

Kaz just stands there, rooted to the spot. He can't move. He just stands there, watching the girl he fell in love with kiss another man. And it's not just any other man, it's Jesper.

The cheerful sharpshooter who had been his right hand for so long. He'd been by Kaz' side for years, joining the Dregs just shortly after you had. Jesper had managed to save Kaz a number of times with his quick shooting. And now he's standing there, kissing you.

Kaz feels sick, like he's going to throw up. Like the air got knocked out of his lungs all at once. The world is spinning. This must be some bad dream, he was asleep and this is a nightmare, it isn't real.

But then you finally seem to notice something is going on.

You pull away from Jesper and look past his arm, to see Kaz standing there with a bewildered look on his face.

'Kaz?' you say, not letting go of Jesper. 'Are you alright? Did something happen on the job?'

Jesper turns around as well now, curiously looking at Kaz.

Instead of looking at you and answering you, Kaz turns his attention to Jesper. The sick feeling in his stomach fades away and gets replaced by anger. Jesper had the guts to kiss you, his girl.

Rage takes over, the same kind of rage that had gotten him the name Dirtyhands. It flashes like a red light in front of his eyes. Without wasting another second, Kaz raises his cane and jabs one of Jesper's legs, sending him to the ground.

'What the fuck, Kaz!' you yell at him.

You rush over to Jesper's side, but Kaz roughly shoves you away with his cane, kneeling next to the taller boy. He angrily looks at him, gritting his teeth.

'You don't get to kiss her just because I can't.' says Kaz in a low voice.

Both you and Jesper look confused, having no clue wat Kaz is talking about.

'Saints, what on earth are you talking about?' says Jesper, rubbing the sore spot on his leg.

'She belongs with me, and you can't kiss her because I can't- because I won't- I forbid you from it.' says Kaz.

You look at Kaz, not believing what you're hearing. You'd never seen him like this, so angry, so full of rage. And you'd never seen him use his cane to hurt his crows before.

'I don't know what the fuck you are talking about.' says Jesper. 'But I'd appreciate it if next time, you'd say something instead of using that damned cane of yours. Now if you could excuse us, we went out back to have some privacy.'

Kaz' eyes widen in anger and you watch in horror as he raises a fist and swings it down, hitting Jesper's cheek hard. Before he can strike again, you catch a hold of Kaz' arm and drag him away from Jesper.

You drag him all the way back through the door and into the kitchen. Nina looks up, probably having heard something was going on. It takes one look from you for her to hurry up the stairs, leaving you alone.

You take Kaz over to one of the tables and roughly push him into a chair.

'Stay here.' you say as you glare at him.

Kaz, a feeling of numbness washing over him, doesn't protest.

You walk out the door again and he can hear you softly talking to Jesper. A while later, you and Jesper walk into the kitchen. Kaz sees a bruise is already forming on Jesper's cheek, right where he hit him.

Jesper looks at Kaz with a mixed expression of pain and confusion on his face.

You find some ice and put it on Jesper's cheek.

'Keep that on there.' you tell him. 'Go upstairs, I'll come to your room in a second. I have to talk to Kaz first.'

Jesper nods and as soon as he's out the door, you furiously turn to Kaz.

'You're going to tell me what the fuck that was about right now. No lies, no excuses, you're going to tell me the truth. Now.' you say, dragging out a chair and sitting down in front of Kaz.

'You don't get to kiss her because I can't?' you say, repeating the words he said earlier. 'What the hell was all that about?'

Normally, Kaz knows exactly what to say. All the time. He's always got an answer ready. But whenever it's just the two of you, it's like he forgets how to talk.

'Well?' you press on. 'Say something, for Saints sake!'

When he still doesn't say something, you slam your hand down on the table, and Kaz flinches slightly. You never got this angry.

'I don't want to see Jesper kissing you because I want to do that. That should have been me.' says Kaz.

'Well you can't even take your damn gloves off, did you really think you'd be able to kiss me?' you say in a cold voice.

'With time, maybe.' says Kaz.

You sigh and softly shake your head. You've been part of the Dregs for years. You care a lot about Kaz. But the bond you have with him is just not a romantic one. Apparently, Kaz didn't think so.

'You fucking hit Jesper.' you say, your voice less loud. 'He's going to have a bruise on his cheek.'

'I was angry.' is all Kaz says.

'Clearly.' you say. 'You need to apologise to him.'

Kaz looks at you. 'Yes, Kaz, you have to say you're sorry.' you say.

When Kaz gets up, you stop him.

'Not now.' you say. 'He doesn't want to see you.'

Kaz sits back down again and starts to avoid your gaze. After sitting in silence for a while, you sigh.

'Why'd you have to do it?' you wonder out loud.

'I don't know.' says Kaz. 'Just- seeing someone else kiss you like that, it made me so angry. Like something snapped inside of me.'

'If your really feel the way you say you feel about me, why didn't you say something sooner?' you say.

'I was scared.' admits Kaz. 'That you wouldn't have me because I wouldn't be able to kiss you, to touch you.'

'Physical affection isn't the only thing in a relationship.' you say.

'I know, I know, I just-' 'Kaz.'

He finally looks at you and you can see he's hurt. But you'd rather tell him the truth than lie to protect his feelings.

'Even if you would be able to touch me, a relationship would have never worked. Not for me, at least. I'm sorry, Kaz, I'm not going to sugarcoat it.' you say. 'I love you and I care about you, but not like that. I'm in love with Jesper. We didn't tell you or the other crows because if word gets out, people will see it as one of our weaknesses. I don't want to know what they'd do to get to me, or to get to Jesper.'

You look at Kaz, scanning his face for a reaction. He's letting your words sink in, thinking about them.

'Look, Kaz, I'm sorry. I'd rather tell you the truth than lie to make you feel better. I love Jesper, and right now, I have no intention at all of breaking up with him. You're going to have to find a way to deal with that.' you say and you get up.

'Apologise to him tomorrow, I'll talk to him.' you say. 'And next time, use your words. Not your cane or your fists.'

Kaz watches as you walk toward the stairs, to get to Jesper's room. He watches you as you disappear out of his line of sight. Regret starts to set in. He shouldn't have hit Jesper. He just felt so angry when he saw you with someone else.

You love Jesper, and there's nothing he can do about it. Right now, all he could do was sit in silence, getting lost in his thoughts wondering about what could have been if he had only talked to you sooner.

Meanwhile, you have reached Jesper's room. You knock and open the door, finding Jesper sitting on the bed. He's still got the ice pressed against his cheek.

'Hey.' you say as you walk up to him. Jesper briefly smiles at you but winches immediately at the movement. You sit down next to him and carefully take his hand in yours so you could remove the ice and take a look at his cheek.

Indeed, the skin of his cheek is red, a bruise forming. You lean in to softly press a kiss to his cheek before putting the ice back in place.

'What did Kaz have to say?' says Jesper.

'Um, that he has feelings for me. And that seeing you kiss me just made him angry. That's why he hit you.' you say.

'Should've used his words instead.' mumbles Jesper.

'That's what I told him.' you say. 'But I also told him to find a way to deal with it, because I am not going to break up with you.'

At your words, Jesper smiles. 'Thanks for kissing my war injury better.' he says, making you chuckle. 'I love you.'

'Love you too, Jes.' you say. You smile and get up to go and get ready for bed.

Little did you know that Kaz was standing right outside the door. He'd stopped there on his way to his room on the top floor. The three words you spoke to Jesper stung in his chest.

He'd give anything to hear you say those words to him. But you had made it clear that wasn't going to happen. Eventually, Kaz would have to find a way to deal with it.

After all, both you and Jesper are two of his most valuable and skilled crows. He couldn't just dismiss you because you love each other.

He'd find a way to deal with it. But not tonight. For tonight, he settles for going to his room and opening a bottle of kvas instead.

A/N: If you want to request something, make sure to read my house rules Here’s the list of characters I write for. Everything that I have written can be found on my masterlist. Please don’t repost my work, as I spend much time and effort on it!! Thank you for reading! Much love, Marit

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amjustagirl · 4 years

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Hogwarts AU (Haikyuu!!)

feat. Bokuto Koutaro

Previously: Miya Atsumu. Miya Osamu. Kita Shinsuke. Kuroo Tetsuro. Tsukkishima Kei

Masterlist link here

Warnings: Tooth-rotting fluff

Wordcount: 4.1k

Genre / Pairings: Fluff, Angst, Hogwarts AU, Bokuto / Reader

Summary: Tutoring Bokuto Kotaro in Charms seems like a waste of your time. But then you get to know the Hufflepuff seeker, and start looking forward to your tutoring sessions with him.

A/N: Comments as always, are much welcomed. Feel free to shout at me anytime!

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“I’m Bokuto!”

You stare coldly at the large hand shoved into your face. “Yes, I know. And so?” You arch an eyebrow and let your question linger awkwardly in the air. Surprisingly, even that fails to dampen the brightness of the grin on his face, despite the fact that any other student would have turned tail and run at being on the receiving end of the resident Ice Queen of Slytherin’s glares.

Your Charms professor coughs into his hand. “Ah. Yes. Bokuto requires some tutoring assistance, and I thought you’d be the right person to help out.”

You open your mouth in protest, but clamps it shut at the look of warning the professor shoots at you. It’s your bad luck you got caught sneaking books out of the restricted section of the library, it wasn’t as if the books you had your eye on contained dark magic in any case, they just contained spells deemed too dangerous for idiots like the one standing before you to even attempt. And instead of detention for a month, your Charms Professor who’s always had a soft spot for you suggested you divert your free time to tutoring struggling students instead.

“Fine”, you snap before turning to the boy. “You better not be as bad as Ushijima - Merlin only knows he was as dumb as a bag of bricks”.

Bokuto agrees to meet you every Tuesday in an unused classroom for Charms tutoring. You do not care that he seems to wilt ever so slightly at the insults you lob at his Hufflepuff teammate - you have no time to suffer fools, after all.

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Unfortunately, while Bokuto doesn’t take everything as literally as Ushijima (it was a problem you faced when you tutored the stone faced boy, especially for a subject requiring as much personal flair as Charms), he struggles with the precise motions and pronunciation needed for Charm incantations, and you’re losing your patience with him after he messes up Aguamenti for the tenth time today.

“You need to move your wand like a wave of water before pointing it sharply - like you’re shooting a jet of water into a glass”, you repeat yourself in exasperation.

He tries his best, waving his wand exaggeratedly but forgets the emphasis on the second syllable, so his wand remains completely dry.

You pinch the bridge of your nose and close your eyes. “Look - it’s really not that hard. If you remembered all the notes I gave you about this charm, you’d have gotten it by now. Merlin - what’s wrong with you dumb Quidditch Players?”

“It’s not that easy to remember everything when you keep calling me dumb all the time”, Bokuto mutters, resentment colouring his tone.

Your shock that Bokuto - the human embodiment of a sunbeam, seems to have abandoned his usual cheerfulness for an uncharacteristically stormy expression, quickly morphs into annoyance that he has the temerity to get short with you considering you’re the one that’s been forced to give up her Tuesday evenings in an attempt to get him to pass his Charms exams.

“That’s because you ARE dumb”, you retort coolly. “Try casting the charm again”.

He shocks you again by gathering his things and walking out of the classroom.

“Where are you going?”, you call after him, confused. Even Ushijima put up with your insults and snide remarks for an entire term, but Bokuto doesn’t even look back.

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Bokuto doesn’t turn up next week either despite struggling in class with the very charm you spent hours trying to hammer into his head. Nor the week after that. Midterms come and go, and you overhear from a group of his twittering fangirls in the bathroom that his spot on the Quidditch team is on the line after failing his Charms exam as expected.

Guilt gnaws at you. Strange, since you assumed your heart is practically a block of ice by now.

You spend days trying to corner him to no avail. You always knew he had plenty of friends, but you didn’t realise how popular he actually was. He’s constantly surrounded by his teammates - or even other Quidditch players like Kuroo from Slytherin, or Hinata from Gryffindor, and his childhood best friend Akaashi follows him like a shadow despite being from Ravenclaw, not Hufflepuff.

So you bide your time and wait until he finishes Quidditch practice, whispering from the shadows “Diffindo” to sever the straps of his bag. Your plan works - Bokuto cheerfully waves his teammates to go on without him, and the horde of hungry Hufflepuff Quidditch players head off to the Great Hall for dinner.

“Why haven’t you come back for tutoring sessions?” You try to sharpen your question into an accusation, but your guilt makes you falter midway and you just sound bewildered instead.

Your bewilderment is mirrored in Bokuto’s eyes. “Huh?” he frowns. “I thought you didn’t want to tutor me in the first place, so I asked my friends to help me out instead.”

You snort, tapping your foot. “Akaashi’s a year below, so I doubt he’s much help, and Kuroo’s much better at potions than at charms. And I hear you’re going to get kicked off the team if you don’t pull up your Charms grades in the remedial exams before Christmas.”

The furrow between his brows deepens. “Why do you care if I’m failing my exams?”

You’re not accustomed to dealing with someone so straightforward and genuine and innocent. You’re used to conniving serpents like Oikawa and Daishou who would have no hesitation hiding daggers in their sleeves just to get ahead, so the fact that his question is honest floods your belly with guilt.

“Because I feel bad for calling you dumb.” You decide to honour his honesty with a straight answer. “Do you still want me to tutor you if I promise to be nice?”

Any shadow of lingering guilt is chased away by the sheer sunniness of his smile.

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The ice in your heart starts to thaw in the face of his exuberance and friendliness.

“You’re much nicer than people say you are”, he tells you one day with blunt honesty. “Why don’t you have more friends?”

You shrug, accustomed to the title that your peers have chosen to label you with. The Ice Queen of Slytherin, your housemates whisper behind your back after you slash Miya Atsumu’s robes in your second year, leaving him standing in nothing but his underwear after he pulled your bra strap on a dare.

Your mother and older sisters taught you self-defense charms even before you entered Hogwarts, and you have no qualms about using them, even against one of the most popular boys in your house. But it proves to be a miscalculation - one that leaves you with few friends other than those who’ve known you since your childhood.

“I don’t need friends”, you say, words frigid.

He grins at you, undeterred. “I’ll be your friend!” He declares, leaning forward, balancing his chair precariously on two legs.

“I’d be happier if you pass your exam”, you tell him dismissively, though there’s an amused curl at the corner of your lips.

True to his word, Bokuto drags Akaashi over to the Slytherin table during dinner the very next day. You startle as he plops into the empty seat across you, Akaashi giving you a slight nod of acknowledgement that’s also tinged with an unspoken ‘sorry you have to put up with my overly excitable best friend these days’ that you snort at.

Kuroo rounds up the trio, and between his and Bokuto’s bickering over who’s getting the best pickings from the meat dishes on the table, and Akaashi’s admonishments not to cause a ruckus that fall on deaf ears, you’re so entertained that you laugh aloud, though you wince internally when half the Slytherin table snaps their heads around to stare at you, dumbfounded.

Miya Osamu actually looks up from his katsudon to elbow his brother. Miya Atsumu chokes on his food.

You assume it was just a one-off event, Bokuto just trying to repay you with his kindness, but to your surprise, he’s back at least twice a week, and soon your lonely corner at the Slytherin table turns into the most boisterous ones. His very presence draws the most random assortment of people into his sphere - soon you’re joined by Tsukkishima, the quiet, stone faced Ravenclaw, Hinata, Bokuto’s self appointed protege and burgeoning sun in his own right, Sawamura, the stoic, steady Hufflepuff Keeper, on top of the usual suspects like Kuroo and Akaashi.

Not everyone is as amused by this turn of events.

“What’s he doing at our table?”

“I heard he’s being tutored by the Ice Queen herself - maybe that’s why he’s here.”

“That makes sense. Heard he’s really dumb.”

You stiffen as you hear your classmates snigger. Bokuto wilts, even the ridiculous mop of hair on his head starts to droop. Kuroo and Akaashi wear twin expressions of murderous intent on their face and both start to rise, insults on their tongues when you whip out your wand, freezing your offending classmate’s lips to his glass.

“Call him dumb one more time and I’ll freeze your balls to the bench”, you smile sweetly, poison in your words.

Kuroo guffaws as you turn back to your conversation with them with a saccharine “now, where were we before we were so rudely interrupted?” Akaashi snorts into his hands.

Bokuto looks at you as if you’ve handed him the latest firebolt model on a gilded plate. You refuse to meet his eyes for the rest of the night.

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You find that he responds far better to praise than negative reinforcement, bouncing around the classroom with such childlike enthusiasm whenever he succeeds in casting another new charm that it makes your lips tilt upwards. The combination of his Hufflepuff diligence and your renewed patience makes his performance in charms skyrocket, and soon, he’s improved enough for you to teach him the more fiddly, advanced charms.

‘You have to flick your wrist lightly’, you tell him for the fifth time this evening. Ascendio is a difficult charm to master, even by your own standards, your own wrist already sore from the various rounds of demonstration.

He tries to mirror your action. It doesn’t work.

‘Um.’ You rack your brains, thinking of something, anything that might help.

Ah.

‘You’ve got to move your whole arm like it’s the wing of a snitch. You know – keep the arm and wrist action light, like the flutter of wings.’

He furls his brow, trying to mirror your action again. It doesn’t work. This time, he pouts.

Impatient, you grab his hand. ‘Look!’ You slap at his arm to get him to loosen up – seriously, what do they feed these quidditch players, taut muscles tensing beneath your fingers as you try to puppet his arm into an approximation of the wrist movement. He gazes down at you with wide eyes as you press your form against him.

‘I’ll show it to you again. Ascendio’, you call, and with a sharp flick of your wrist, your feet lift off the ground, your skirt fluttering in the air. Then with a smooth swish of your wand, you descend to the ground, cocking your head to your student. ‘Come on, Bokuto, you’ve got to master it by the end of the night.’

He tries again and again to no avail. Charms is a far more creative branch of magic than transfiguration or even potions – and what works for one might not work for another. You recalibrate, trying to relate what you’re teaching to his true love - Quidditch.

‘Maybe you could imitate the movement of a snitch about to take off once the whistle blows?’

‘A snitch?’ he laughs boisterously at your suggestion. ‘I could do that.’

He screws up his eyes tightly, his entire body falling still before he raises his arm. With a flick and swish, a hooted “Ascendio”, Bokuto floats up into the air.

“I did it!” He pumps his fists in the air, grinning down at you. Then with a smooth finite incantatem, he descends back to the grimy classroom floor.

“Well done!” You laugh aloud, clapping your hands, so drunk with elation at his success that you don’t notice the sudden softness in his golden eyes.

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“Waiting for Bokuto-san?” Akaashi asks.

You hesitate for a beat, a pink tint to the apples of your cheeks before you nod without a word.

“I’ll leave you two be then”, the Ravenclaw boy says, walking off with his hands tucked in his robes, a small smile flickering on his face.

You exhale slowly through your nose. Maybe you should have left Akaashi to wait for Bokuto instead - they’re best friends, practically platonic soulmates you gather from Bokuto’s chatter as he walks you back to the Slytherin dungeons every Tuesday night, something he insists on despite your protests. You’re just his tutor - but here you are, hanging around outside the classroom where his remedial exam is being held, palms clammy in nervous anticipation.

You tell yourself that you’re waiting for him because you can’t wait to know whether the tutoring sessions that take up your precious Tuesday evenings will end. You wonder if that means that he’ll stop coming over to hang out over dinner with you, the thought making your heart feel as if it’s frosted over again.

“Hey, hey, hey!” His booming voice interrupts your reverie, and you glance up to see him burst out of the classroom, the joy on his face outshining even the sun.

“You passed, I assume”, you snark, hands on hips, but he doesn’t even register your badly disguised coldness, grabbing by the waist to lift you easily into the air, spinning you in circles until you’re both giddy with delight.

“I did, I did, thanks to you!” He crows, still clinging on to you like a lifeline. “They were so impressed when I cast Ascendio, and I was like swish, and they were like aughhh wahhhhh - and it was so awesome!”

“I’m glad my effort paid off then, dummy”, you tease - seriously, it would make your housemates’ jaws drop if they caught you giggling, let alone being held aloft in Bokuto’s arms, but you’re just so happy for him that you don’t order him to put you down.

He stills suddenly, and you’re worried that he’s taken offense at the affectionate nickname until you notice his eyes are trained at the arch above you and oh -

Mistletoe.

It’s Christmas, and the house elves have hung enchanted sprigs of mistletoe around the castle on the orders of the mischievous headmaster to prank unsuspecting students. Any student trapped under enchanted mistletoe may only be released upon giving or receiving a kiss, and you’re about to press a chaste kiss to Bokuto’s nose when you glance back at him and notice his eyes are molten gold, laden with desire.

“Bokuto - “ you begin, but you’re promptly cut off by the searing brand of his lips against yours, gasping as he backs you against the wall, his mouth plundering yours. You should protest, but any sentient thought you might have is lost in your newly awakened hunger for him, this beautiful, sweet boy with golden eyes and silver hair who’s kissing you.

“I like you,” he says breathlessly when you finally push him away in an effort to pull air into your deprived lungs. “Go out with me - please?” he adds, almost as an afterthought, brushing his thumb against your cheek with a gentleness that belies his large frame crowding you against the wall.

You want to, oh Merlin - you want to indulge in the warmth that’s starting to sprout in the previously frozen tundra of your heart but you have to recognise that he’s Bokuto Koutaro, Quidditch player extraordinaire bound for the professional leagues, so popular that he already has a fanclub in school.

And you - you were a social pariah before you met him, you would ruin his reputation if anyone finds out that you’re in a relationship with him, not to mention you’ve been accused of being cold and distant and harsh - all characteristics that disqualify you from being a good match for him.

“I can’t.” You shake your head, keeping him an arm’s length distance from you, because if he comes any closer, you might lose your resolve. “We wouldn’t work out at all”.

The golden light dims in his eyes, and his arms fall limply to his side. “Is it because I’m dumb?” He asks, his voice heartbreakingly quiet.

“No!” You cry, taking a step towards him. “That’s not it at all!”

He frowns, confused. “Then why don’t you wanna go out with me? Don’t you like me?”

“I do”, you admit, hating yourself for having to extinguish the spark of hope in his eyes. “But we won’t work out -”

“Why’re you so sure of that?” He takes a step forward, reaching towards you. You knock his hands away and he stumbles back, stung.

“Because I’m not good enough for you!” You shout, your words echoing against the castle walls. “Because I’m snarky and frigid and cold and rotten to the core - and you’re wonderful and funny and sweet and you deserve so much better than me”.

Your words stun him into silence, and before he can work out a response, before your resolve starts to crumble, you take a large step away from him. With trembling hands, you reinforce the frozen fort in your heart, forcing yourself to beat a hasty retreat.

“Besides”, you add, voice shaking. “What could I possibly offer you?”

You disappear around the corner, coldly ignoring him even as he calls your name.

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

“He’s wandering around the castle like a lovelorn ghost”, Akaashi says, dropping into the library seat across yours.

“Explain why that makes it my business”, you hiss with the indignation of a cornered boggart with no means of escape.

He just gives you a knowing look and you glance at the skulking librarian, wondering if you should risk a detention to drive your sharpest quill into the back of the Ravenclaw boy’s hand.

“You know, it’s sad you think so little of Bokuto-san that you refuse to allow him to make choices for himself.”

“What are you - “

“It’s true, isn’t it?” His gaze remains resolute, even as you snarl. “Why don’t you prove me wrong?”

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

But you’re stubborn, so you avert your eyes whenever Bokuto comes into your line of sight, changing seats so you don’t sit anywhere near him in Charms, escaping whenever he tries to call your name. Your Tuesday tutoring sessions with him are a thing of the past. You even hear from Miya Osamu that Bokuto’s been trying and failing to bribe first years into letting him into the Slytherin Dungeons, though they’re all far too frightened of your reputation to even dream of crossing you, not even for the bait of a ride on his rare firebolt.

You’re lonely, but you refuse to admit it to yourself.

You even refuse to watch the match between Hufflepuff and Slytherin despite it being touted as the social event of the year. Both team’s lineups are exceedingly impressive. Representing Hufflepuff there are powerful players like Bokuto, Ushijma, Azumane, even surly Kyoutani. Slytherin’s certainly no slouch either, with Oikawa, Suna, Daishou, Kuroo and the Miya twins.

But you huddle in the library and ignore the screams and cheers of the whole school spectating the match until Akaashi skids into the library, distress clear on his face.

“He’s injured”, he manages to spit out between heaving breaths, and you don’t even need to ask who he is, panic turning your ribs into kindling, burning a blaze through your chest as you sprint full speed towards the hospital wing.

Quidditch is a horrendously dangerous sport - the Daily Prophet Sports Section is full of horrendous injuries like long lasting concussions and smashed bones that you’re already imagining the worst by the time you cross the threshold of the hospital wing. But Bokuto’s not even lying on the cot - he’s sitting upright, a confused yet hopeful expression on his face as you stare at him, dumbfounded.

“A-Akaashi said you were injured”, you manage to stutter.

Bokuto waves a bandaged finger at you. “Yep”, he says, taking wary steps one at a time towards you. “Suna got me good when I was about to catch the snitch”.

“Oh”, you say lamely. “I see.” You’re thankful no one else is in the hospital wing to see your disgrace. “I’ll be going, then”.

“Wait! Please don’t run away again”, he begs, taking advantage of your distracted state to catch your hand, his fingers circling your wrist easily. You tug against his grip, but it’s futile - you’ve left your wand in the library in your mad rush, and years of Quidditch training have sculpted Bokuto into the human embodiment of a brick wall.

“Let go of me!” You order him in the coldest tone you can muster. It’s not even icy - in fact, it’s probably lukewarm.

He shakes his head, as stubborn as you. “Not until you hear me out”, he replies, pulling you out of the hospital wing into the nearest unused classroom.

“Fine.” You cross your arms. “What do you want to say to me then?”

“Well for starters, you’re the most amazing, scary girl I know”, he says, grinning boyishly at you. “You’re so much smarter than me I don’t know how your head doesn’t go pfft cos it sure isn’t large enough to hold all your brains. And you’re nice - I don’t know why you pretend you’re not - Yachi said you cursed the boys who teased her ‘cos you found her in the bathroom crying, even though you literally met her for the first time - “

“Why are you telling me this?” You cut in, confused.

“Cos you asked me what you could offer me” He answers simply, his fingers slotting in between yours. “The answer is you. I want you. I like you.” His grin softens into a bashful, goofy, adorable smile. “And I know I’m not smart like you or Akaashi, but I know enough to think you like me too.”

Your mind is entreating you not to give in, reminding you that you’ll only drag him down with you but your selfish heart wins out. The weeks you’ve voluntarily isolated yourself from Bokuto have been cold and lonely, and the truth is you miss him - you miss the silly jokes he makes, the playful banter, his boundless confidence and kindness and friendliness. Maybe that makes you selfish, but you can’t deny it any longer, you want him for yourself.

So you reply with a shy smile of your own. “Maybe I do - like you, I mean”, you say, with an earnestness you must have learnt from him, tilting your face up towards him like a flower seeking the sun.

His eyes grow wide with delight as you step into the circle of his arms, allowing him to draw you against his broad chest.

“And to be honest, maybe I’m the fool for not letting myself admit that I’ve always liked you”.

“Don’t call yourself tha - mmmph!”

This time it’s your turn to interrupt him with a kiss, tipping his head down to slide your lips against his, the heat in his eyes and the sunshine in his smile that finally melting the last vestiges of ice in your heart and transforming you from a snow maiden into a girl made of flesh and bone.

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

Akaashi convinces you to sneak into the holding area before the next match between Slytherin and Hufflepuff.

You’re self conscious, constantly adjusting the scarf in Hufflepuff yellow and black looped around your throat, but that immediately dissolves when Bokuto whoops the minute he spots you, bounding over to sweep you into an embrace, demanding at least twenty kisses before he lets you go.

You oblige, because when faced with Bokuto’s pleading eyes, you’re weak, soft.

Then you realise why Akaashi was so insistent on you surprising Bokuto just before his big match.

Miya Atsumu falls off his broom, slack jawed. Miya Osamu trips over him. Even Suna Rintarou looks at you and Bokuto with a modicum of fear and respect.

“Get it together!” Kuroo snaps at his team, hands on hips.

None of that registers with Bokuto, of course. The minute the whistle blows, he speeds off, leaving even Oikawa in the dust, and before a dazed Miya Atsumu even scores once against Daichi, the Hufflepuff keeper, Bokuto is already holding the golden snitch aloft in his hand. He proceeds to do laps of aerial cartwheels around the pitch before hovering in front of the stands where you sit, shamelessly blowing kisses towards you.

You hide your burning face in your hands. Akaashi just sits beside you, intolerably smug. Bokuto, oblivious as ever, just whoops.

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sparks-joy-imagines · 3 years

Note

Bestie, I loved your Sukuna smut! Give us some more, perhaps something with some praise? 😌

hello bestie✨

I am so very happy you enjoyed the Sukuna smut! (I still try to tone him down a bit, ‘cause let’s face it – who’d actually survive him? lol) hope you enjoy what happened here~ - mesu. ps: if you want a 2nd part where he's not as tame anymore ask away😘

Ryōmen Sukuna x f!reader

warnings: vaginal penetration, unsafe intercourse (pls don’t do this), Sukuna (albeit he’s rather tame in this one? idk)

The very moment you crossed paths with Sukuna you should’ve known. Only that it wasn’t a question of life and death, rather a question of control and surrendering such. Back then, you didn’t run, found him fascinating and his intrigue with you intoxicating. Sukuna had given you every single thing you asked for, and didn’t ask anything in return, or so it seemed.

You didn’t mind surrendering control to him since he never gave a reason to let you think that you couldn’t claim it back at any given moment. That is until you mis-stepped one month ago and he had very clearly shown you just how much you had submitted to him and how distinct his expectations were for you to follow his lead.

One month.

One month had gone by and Sukuna hadn’t laid a single finger of his many on you. Neither had you been allowed to even think about touching yourself. No matter how needy you became in the aftermath of your debatably excessive previous sex life with the king of curses. I’ll know if you do as much as think about it, he had warned you with the same aloof smirk of his you had once found appealing. Right now, you would very much like to punch his teeth out because he had effectively put you in time out like a damn toddler.

It didn’t help much either that you had just been caught up in Sukuna’s domain expansion, effectively making you sit pouting with your arms and legs crossed on the futon in his temple.

“Oh come on dear, aren’t you happy to see me in the flesh?”

“Go to hell”

You couldn’t bear looking at him so you closed your eyes in protest. The tone of his voice illustrated his smug expression enough to make the tiny hairs on the skin of your bare neck stand up and you fought the upcoming shivers longing to run down your spine.

“Now you don’t really mean that, do you, pet?”

His voice. Right next to your left ear. Your eyes fluttered open and you felt the tip of Sukuna’s nose follow the line of your jaw as he pulled back to face you. You knew you had lost this fight even before it had begun when you looked into his deep eyes and shook your head a simple no, not willing to share how much you had missed him close to you.

A satisfied smirk tugged at one corner of Sukuna’s mouth as he grabbed your chin with his sharp nails and turned your head a little to get a proper look at you, “I see you’ve kept your part of the bargain up.”

“What makes you think that?” you mused, trying to grasp Sukuna’s thoughts.

Now, also the second corner of his mouth tugged up in a pleased expression and he gave you a nudge to make you fall on your back. The next moment he had untangled your arms and legs and got comfortable between your thighs, taking his sweet time to tear your clothes out of the way, one of the reasons you didn’t invest in expensive clothing anymore. You let it happen for now.

“Simple,” Sukuna hummed as he casually discarded shreds of clothing, “you’re looking at me like a starved wolf hungry for a meal. Like I knew you would. Like I wanted you to.”

You furrowed your brows and glanced at the mirrored ceiling. Indeed your eyes had a certain darkness to them. Primal lust. You had never seen that expression on yourself before. You knew you had nothing on him but it irked you that he was just doing as he pleased.

“And as you have been so very obedient for the past couple weeks, I’ll grant you a reward,” Sukuna continued as he slipped out of his kimono, already done undressing you completely.

He didn’t answer your questioning look and instead started kissing down your neck deeply to your chest. Your torso rocked up instantly when Sukuna’s teeth connected to your collar bone, but the curse was quick to press you down to the sheets again, making you groan in frustration.

“Shh, babygirl, you’ve been so good for the past month. Don’t ruin it for yourself on the brink of bliss,” Sukuna teased and was about to continue his way down your torso, when you pushed against him with all of your might and… actually succeeded in making him falter, allowing you to roll on top of him.

Swept up by the momentum you felt a rush of unknown superiority and leaned down closely to Sukuna’s amused face and purred on his lips, “Not this time, darlin’. You don’t get to starve me of this for a month and then just decide for me what I want.”

“Fine, then show me, (Y/N),” Sukuna muttered back against our lips, a splash of curiosity in his tone, “show me everything you’ve pent up.”

“I will!” you exclaimed as you rubbed your soaked cunt on Sukuna’s crotch. You could feel his member twitch excitedly against your folds and it took every last bit of self-restraint to withhold your moans from ebbing over your lips as you lowered yourself on him.

You threw your head in your nape and took a moment to get used to feeling so filled up. Granted, Sukuna had always pushed your capacity to its very limits but feeling him for the first time in what felt like forever triggered all of your senses into overload.

If it had been a different time, a different day, you would have given credit to actually give you time to adjust, but right now you just wanted to feel him corrupt every single piece of your body.

You barely noticed how you began moving on him, your hips circling on his in a rapidly accelerating pace. More and more lewd sounds escaped your throat as you started touching yourself, one hand at your clit, the other cupping your boob. You didn’t care though. This felt right, this felt like what you deserved.

Sukuna was all but a fraction of the euphoria you built for yourself as you reclaimed the control you had missed for so long.

You only realised he was moving against you when he thrust up in exactly the angle that made you see stars. Your body jerked up in an almost unnatural twist as you became unravelled, your juices spilling all over Sukuna, your voice echoed through the domain.

It took a few moments before you were able to gather yourself again. You were surprised to find yourself cradled up in Sukuna’s lap with him sporting his usual smug expression again.

“I knew you had it in you, pet,” Sukuna gloated as he let you lean to his chest. You could feel his cock poking at your arse.

“What? Using you as my personal sex toy?” you chuckled.

Sukuna scoffed, “Being assertive enough to change things up a bit with me.”

You smirked, “Then let me be assertive enough to suggest that we continue?”

#ryomen sukuna x reader #sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna #jjk x reader #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #imagine #jujutsu kaisen imagine #not sfw #text #mesu #jjk requests are open

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teawaffles · 3 years

Text

Albert’s Drinking Contest: Chapter 2

“——This is, the twentieth!”

Announcing the number of glasses he’d drained, Moran set his empty wine glass on the table with a thud.

He was still clear-headed, and able to hold a conversation. But those wild features of his were now flushed, as red as the copious amounts of wine that had entered his stomach.

“Ready to give up now, Albert?”

In his tipsy, trembly vision, Moran beheld his opponent before him.

But far from giving up, Albert was completely sober. There was no discernible change in his complexion; as if he’d started drinking right there and then, he tipped back his glass, and downed his wine with ease.

With that, they were now tied at 20 glasses each. Ignoring the man staring at him with twitching eyes, Albert called out to Louis, who was still serving as their waiter.

“No matter how many glasses I drink, this profound flavour never ceases to delight. To have procured such an excellent vintage — your selections are exquisite as always, Louis.”

“Thank you very much. As I recall, this is an import from America.”

“Ah: I’ve heard that the French vineyards are still afflicted with blight. [1] It’s a pity we won’t be able to enjoy their splendid red wines for some time to come; but it’s also our good fortune to have learned about the quality of wines from the New World.” [2]

“…………”

Albert was being much too relaxed, and had even started to digress into areas completely unrelated to the match; hearing that, Moran shot him a look of displeasure.

Incidentally, the challenge had been much too great for Fred: he’d been the first to pass out, flopping onto the table with his glass in hand. Immediately after, they’d covered him with a blanket so he wouldn’t catch a cold, and the man was presently fast asleep.

“Well then, both sides have managed to consume twenty glasses. It seems both of you still have room for more, but…… if I were to speak from an impartial standpoint, you appear to be at a slight disadvantage, Moran.”

Having observed their match, William leisurely shared his views.

Moran knew his analysis was unbiased, and that was precisely why he let out a groan of frustration. His face flushed, he grabbed the bottle of wine, intending to pour his next drink; but when he realised that not a single drop had trickled out, he waved the bottle in the air.

“Sorry, Louis. It’s empty, so could you bring a new one?”

“Understood.”

Louis promptly retrieved a fresh bottle, and with brisk efficiency, filled both their glasses.

“This’ll be, the twenty-first.”

As soon as his glass was full, without any intention of savouring the wine, Moran chugged it all in one breath.

But the next moment, he was swamped by an intense wave of vertigo: somehow, it seemed he was much nearer his limit than he’d thought.

In contrast, Albert merely tilted his glass, observing the colours and clarity of the freshly-poured wine. Then he swirled it once, bringing it near his nose to savour its aroma, and took a sip to taste.

“Is this a Madeira?” [3]

Standing beside them, Louis revealed the bottle label with a smile.

“Indeed — your wine tasting is accurate as always, nii-sama. Would you like some salted cheese to complement it?”

“I’d prefer to pair such cheeses with a sweet port. [4] Or perhaps we could have a chicken with that, like Sir John Falstaff.” [5]

“In exchange for one’s soul, indeed.” [6]

Watching the two brothers quote Shakespeare as they chatted, Moran was incredulous.

“……Y’know, this is a drinking match on which I’ve staked my dignity as a man — not some wine-guessing quiz at a party,” he protested.

However, in a long-suffering gesture, Albert merely shrugged.

“Although this is an earnest match, Colonel, it’ll become a dreary affair if you leave no room for entertainment. Moreover, this wine was used to toast the American Declaration of Independence, making it perfect for tonight’s celebration.” [7]

At that bit of trivia from Albert, Moran looked positively fed up.

“Oooh, if you have so much time to share your vast knowledge, then why don’t you hurry up and drink already?”

But far from being put out, an elegant smile rose to Albert’s lips.

“Oh dear; you’re in an awful rush, Colonel. Could it be a sign that you’re nearing your limit?”

“Wha……! N-No way. I can still continue.”

Albert had hit right where it hurt, and Moran uttered a groan that was rather different from before. It seemed his opponent had observed his giddy spell from earlier.

Although the match was far from over, Moran was now consumed by a crushing sense of defeat. Seeing that, Albert made a show of draining his glass at a leisurely pace.

Even after downing a substantial amount of wine, the eldest son of the Moriarty family was unruffled, and Moran shot him a complaint.

“You’re not actually drinking some deep red tea instead of wine, are ya?”

Perhaps it was because the liquor had addled his brain, for Moran put forth a suspicion that he wouldn’t normally have entertained.

To that, both William and Louis burst into laughter.

“That’s a very unique deduction, Moran,” said William, as he struggled to rein in his mirth. “But even I can’t devise a magic trick like that.”

Louis was also trying very hard to suppress his amusement. “I filled both your glasses from the same bottle: how could it be that alcohol came out one time, and tea the next? It’s so unlike you to even consider such a ridiculous idea, Mr Moran. Wouldn’t you agree that it’s time to cut back on the liquor?”

“S-Shut it. I was just saying. And I’m not giving up now.”

Their teasing had completely soured his mood. Glancing to the side, he saw Fred, who was sound asleep.

“Somehow, I think he might’ve just laughed at that too……”

Moran gazed at the man he thought of as a younger brother, dead to the world with a peaceful look on his face. Then he fixed his blanket, which had slipped a little out of place.

When his two brothers had finally managed to regain their composure, Albert spoke up.

“In fact, Colonel: it would better protect your good name if we were to pretend that outlandish trick was true. Or perhaps we could give you a handicap, and allow you to alternate between wine and tea.”

“You don’t say. Then I’ll have two drinks the next round.”

“Oh, that’s a good idea, coming from you. If you’re the one to set up the cause of your own defeat, then it’ll make a convincing excuse to others, I see.”

“Urgh……”

No matter what he said, Albert had a ready riposte. As such, Moran swallowed his frustration, and returned his focus to the match.

“Anyway: Louis, keep it comin’, please.”

Seeing Moran try his utmost to put on a brave front, Louis was even beginning to find that a little cute; muttering his acknowledgement, he proceeded to fill Moran’s glass once more. Then, with great force, the man poured its entire contents down his throat.

“…………”

The alcohol burned like fire as it flowed into his stomach — all of a sudden, Moran came to his senses. Placing his glass on the table, he pondered.

His vexation at the Moriarty brothers’ teasing. His alcohol-induced befuddlement. And above all, Albert’s ability to hold his liquor, which had far outstripped his expectations.

His irritation at those three things had wound up completely flustering him. But once Moran calmed down and took stock of his situation, he realised William was right: he was clearly on the back foot.

Until now, he’d been unconsciously averting his eyes from his predicament by being oddly stubborn. But this pickle wouldn’t resolve itself if he just kept running away. If he continued to drink without a scheme in mind, then in his mind’s eye, he could see the outcome plain as day: he’d be out like a light in no time.

However, if he lost, then he’d have to listen to anything the victor said. Moran had originally set that rule as a way to spur himself on, thinking that there’d be no way he would lose. But now, it had lost virtually all effect in rousing his will to fight — all that remained, was the dread of what Albert would make him do upon his defeat.

He absolutely had to win. But the way things were going, it was all but certain that he’d lose.

In that case, the only option left would be——.

Within him, that conflict crystallised into a single decision.

“William,” he said. “Won’t you join in the match? Or rather: please, join.”

“Me? But why?”

Up to this point, William had been serving as an impartial judge, and he asked that with curiosity. But Moran did not answer; instead, his expression twisted into a bitter one as he continued.

“That’s not all. On top of you joining in…… If you’re agreeable, Albert, let’s ignore the count thus far and start afresh……. This is, truly a personal…… request from me.”

That faltering reply was very much unlike him, and William broke into a meaningful smile.

Moran’s decision — was to request that they increase the number of participants, and restart the game.

Despite his frustrations, Moran was well aware that he wouldn’t be able to beat Albert alone. Hence, he thought he’d bring in more opponents to counter him: even if it was just one more person.

The other part of his plan was to reset the match. If Albert agreed to that, then compared to the two existing players, someone joining in halfway would naturally have the advantage. But from Moran’s point of view, even if he was defeated, it would still be better than having Albert directly exercise his “winner’s privilege” on him — such were his complicated emotions. It was an absurd request, to be sure; but at least he hadn’t proposed having Albert compete against the combined total of both his and the other participant’s tally: perhaps that was a reflection of whatever faint scraps of self-respect Moran still had within him.

Perceiving Moran’s complex tangle of emotions, William placed a hand under his chin and pondered.

It’d also be fun to take on his suggestion. Although he did have his role as the judge, it wasn’t as if the match had any strict rules to begin with — they could easily do without one.

However, if he were to join in, and the match were to be restarted, then both Moran and Albert would be at a disadvantage. When it came to wine, he knew his elder brother’s stomach for it was bottomless; but still, it was clearly unfair to have a new and virtually-sober participant waltz into an honest drinking match. And yet, then again, he didn’t want to dismiss Moran’s “request” out of hand.

In this situation, the best option would be——.

But the instant William made his decision, and tried to voice his answer, Louis quietly raised a hand.

“Hold on a minute. Could it be that you were thinking of taking up his suggestion, nii-san?”

“……Yes, I was just about to say that. Seeing as Albert nii-san doesn’t appear to have any issue with that.”

William looked at his older brother, seated across from Moran. Then, Albert flashed them both a slight smile. Although it would mean that he would gain a new opponent, and the contest would start again from the top, it seemed he didn’t mind one bit.

Registering Albert’s generosity, Louis pointed at himself.

“In that case, may I participate?”

“……You, Louis?” Moran asked.

Louis proceeded to explain himself briefly. “I cannot countenance the possibility — however slight — that after joining the match, my brother will end up drinking too much and impacting his health. Hence, I believe that issue will be negated if I were to join the match in his stead.”

“But in that case, I would end up worrying for your health, Louis,” said William, furrowing his brows slightly.

At his brother’s kindness, Louis unwittingly cracked a smile.

“It makes me very happy to hear that. But it’s rare to hear Mr Moran make such a serious request, and so I can understand how you’d want to help him out. Of course, as Mr Moran said: this is only if you’re agreeable, Albert nii-sama.”

“Alright. Having heard that much, I shan’t object,” replied William. “What about you, nii-san?”

His elegant smile unfaltering as ever, the eldest son of the Moriarty family nodded.

“I don’t mind. If you’re certain, Louis, then I shall respect your decision.” Then, Albert’s expression turned solemn. “However, as you mentioned yourself, you absolutely must not reach the point of destroying your own health. Even though the colonel can’t help it, Louis, my condition is that you cannot drink recklessly. Is that alright?”

“Understood, nii-sama. ——Well then, it’s settled.”

Nodding in assent, Louis quietly took a seat beside Moran. Absorbing how his ridiculous request had been granted, more than gratitude, Moran’s expression was one of astonishment.

“Is this really alright, Louis? I know I was the one who asked, but Albert’s no pushover. If we lose, then you’ll have to suffer the forfeit too……”

However, Louis smiled wryly as he replied.

“I already knew that when I asked to join, didn’t I? To be honest, I don’t want to stand opposed to either you or Albert nii-sama. But now that I’ve made my decision, I have no intention of going down without a fight.”

“……Louis.”

That resolve had shaken Moran, so much so that he began to tremble. Watching him out the corner of his eye, Louis filled both their glasses; then Albert too filled his glass by himself, and raised it toward the two of them.

“Well then, once again, let’s give it our all.”

“I won’t be holding back either, you two.”

“Oh, both of you will be sorry real soon.”

Having gained a dependable ally, Moran’s enthusiasm was now back in full force.

Looking at the three of them, William spoke.

“So with Louis’s entry, the contest shall start again from scratch. But for both Moran and Albert nii-san, the next glass will be your twenty-third: please take care not to injure your health.”

With that word of caution from William, the drinking contest had resumed.

Footnotes:

[1] French vineyards had been devastated by aphids in the mid-19th century, and then fungal diseases after that. (Wikipedia)

[2] The “New World” refers to the Americas, in contrast to the Old World, or Eastern Hemisphere of the Earth. (Wikipedia)

[3] Madeira is a fortified wine made on the Madeira Islands, off the African coast. (Wikipedia)

[4] Port is a fortified wine produced in the Douro Valley in Portugal. (Wikipedia)

[5] Sir John Falstaff is a character featured in several of Shakespeare’s plays. (Wikipedia) He is renowned as a drunkard and glutton, whose favourite food is capons — roosters reared specially for their meat. (BBC article)

[6] A reference to Faust, who traded his soul with the Devil in exchange for worldly pleasures. (Wikipedia)

Aside: As far as I can tell, this line doesn’t actually appear in Shakespeare’s works. But in the legend of Faust, Faust makes his pact with the Devil via the demon Mephistopheles — who is mentioned in Shakespeare’s play The Merry Wives of Windsor (Wikipedia), which stars Sir John Falstaff as its main character.

[7] This is apparently true: Wikipedia

#moriarty the patriot #yuukoku no moriarty #yuumori #english translation #a study in scarlet

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animeyanderelover · 4 years

Note

I wonder if it's too much to ask for a isekai reader for the eldian soldiers like Reiner, Bertholdt, Annie and/or Zeke ? I just realised that isekai in aot is like the manhwa "iris lady with a smartphone"

More Attack on Titan!

Tw: Yandere themes, unhealthy mindset, unhealthy relationship, possessiveness, obsessiveness, delusions, paranoia, overprotective behavior, clinginess, stalking, controlling Yandere, mean Yandere, kidnapping, death

Reader gets transported into their world

🟤🧡💗People might think they didn’t have already enough secrets keeping with them. Needing to keep quiet about who they really were and what their true intentions were. But then you suddenly came. It was after Marco had died that you suddenly stumbled upon them, to be more specific after Annie had joined the police. She was just patrolling around the city when she suddenly heard loud noises from one of the alleys, slowly walking inside, ready to fight whoever was in there. She had expected some drunk bastard or thief to hide in there. But she hadn’t expected to find you inside. Someone with a very questionable sense of fashion who just looked with huge eyes around, muttering something from “not believing you were in one of your favorite animes”. At first Annie thought you were some lunatic, confronting you and asking you coldly who you were. Upon seeing her you instantly flinched and stuttered to not kill you. Annie just rolled her eyes and told you that she you should leave because she didn’t want to waste time on you.

🟤🧡💗It was kind of obvious to you that she thought of you as some crazy person. But you weren’t. And you needed help! And just as she was about to leave you suddenly told her that you were from another universe. That caused her to scoff, continuing to ignore you. But she froze when you told her that you knew that her, Reiner and Bertholdt were Titan shifters. And before you could even blink you were suddenly thrown to the ground by Annie, threatening you to better tell her if anyone else knew about this and from where you had even gotten this information. You were honestly scared that she would kill you so you told her in a scared voice that you had proof that you were from another world, telling her to look into your pocket. She did, her eyes never leaving you and her arm never stopping to twist yours in a painful grip. You knew that if you would move she wouldn’t hesitate to break it. Annie quirked an eyebrow when she pulled that weird thing for the first time out, some flat object. For a few moments she just turned it around from all angels before accidentally pressing somewhere down. When that thing suddenly started glowing she was a bit startled and nearly let it fall before catching it. What was that thing?

🟤🧡💗You were dragged away from the town, Annie making sure that no one would ask any questions. If they did she just said that she escorted you home due to being a bit drunk. She got laughed at for this, but didn’t care. And you had to keep your mouth shut or else...You didn’t want to find out what else would happen then. So you just followed Annie for who knows how long, always asking you where the two of you were going to and her always making you shut up with a short glare. By the time the both of you arrived you had been traveling for hours. At least you had ridden the most part on horse Annie had taken with her on her way out. Your destination? A small house in the forest, pretty isolated from other villages in here. You actually wanted to protest, but before you knew it you were pushed inside from her. And after she had locked the door she slowly pulled the small object out, asking you what exactly that was and that you should better on explain everything to her. And be truthful with it. She was still a bit suspicious of your explanation that you came from another world, but on the other hand she had never seen a thing like this before. But she got convinced when you showed her photos on your “phone” from her and all her comrades, telling her that in your world the story of her world was like a fairytale in hers. Many people knew that story and that was because you knew everything.

🟤🧡💗Annie left you alone in that house after progressing the news, tying you to a chair and warning you to better not disappear. And there were definitely better things than being tied up for hours to a chair without having the chance to go to the toilet before, not to mention without having drunken or eaten anything before. You were when she finally came back sure that you would pee in your pants if she wouldn’t hurry up. But she hadn’t come alone. You realized that when suddenly no other than Reiner and Bertholdt stepped in, Reiner having a non believing look on his face and Bertholdt a unsure yet curious expression on his. Both of them observed you closely when Annie carefully untied you, giving you finally the chance to relieve yourself and even being that nice to steal some food and water for you which you needed after hours. But it didn’t change the fact that you felt very nervous by all of them. Especially Reiner scared you. At least they had the patience to wait until you had shoved down all the food before Reiner finally demanded from you to show them what you had in your “phone”. So you showed them gladly all the fan art and pictures you had saved about them. Reiner kept his stern expression, but Bertholdt watched everything with wide and fascinating eyes, being amazed by the fact that there was another universe like yours out there.

🟤🧡💗The opinions about you at the beginning were very different. Reiner believed it might be the best to just kill you, seeing you as a potential threat. If people like Levi or Erwin would find you, they would be doomed. Bertholdt thought the complete opposite. He had instantly taken a liking to you after the first meeting, protesting and saying that you could be a great help for them as well with all your knowledge. Annie’s decision was what saved you in the end. She thought that it wasn’t their job to kill you. You didn’t even belong into this world and they didn’t even know if you might just get transported back without them doing anything. So after long discussions they agreed to keep you in this house, making sure to tell you that if you would try to escape. Bertholdt wasn’t even all that threatening, Annie just told you with a neutral face that she would break your bones if you would try to escape and Reiner was the one who definitely was focused on scaring you the most, telling you he would kill you if you should ever try to run away. And so your new life started. Being locked up in a small house with one of them or all three coming every night at the same time to look after you. You weren’t very happy about this, having hoped to see the other characters as well. But all three had agreed that it would really mean trouble if the scouts would find out about you. Not only that, but you obviously had “favs”, meaning they couldn’t risk that you would tell someone about them just because you wanted to save someone’s life.

🟤🧡💗Bertholdt was the first one to become obsessed. He had a huge curiosity for you the moment Annie had told him and Reiner about you and had taken a instant liking towards you the moment he had met you. The thought of another world much more peaceful than his existing was so soothing for him, making him want to know everything about this world and also you. What exactly made him fall so hard? It was probably the fact that you could listen to his worries and his guilty thoughts without completely judging him like everyone else did. You were somewhat neutral, despite having your “favs” in this show, being able to give him your honest opinion without having to always add in the end what he had to do. You just told him what you thought about this. For him you were a true angel, possessing an innocence that not even a child had. It made him want to protect you, to make sure that you would never have to suffer like he had to.

🟤🧡💗The next one to fall for you was Reiner. At first he honestly disliked you. He didn’t enjoy the fact that there was someone from another world in here and knew everything about them. You were just an obstacle in his eyes, at least at the beginning. But he was a very unstable one and that was what made him fall faster than thought for you than he had expected. The knowledge that there was a world where people didn’t have to suffer like him or all the others was truly medicine for his damaged mentality. Similar to Bertholdt it was also your innocence that made him fall even harder even though he liked to describe it more as naivety. Despite the fact that he still was sometimes very harsh with you he relied a lot on you, being able to just let every shit that was going on in his head out without being scolded for being weak or being called a monster. And you just listened and tried to understand. He would have never expected to fall so hard just because someone would just sit down and let him talk all his overwhelming feelings out.

🟤🧡💗Annie was the last one from those three to fall for you. She had been the most neutral and calm about you. She hadn’t hated you like Reiner had done, but she also hadn’t been all over you like Bertholdt had been. She had just thought rationally about the whole situation. But you knew that behind her motionless mask someone else was. And that’s what made her in the end fall for you. You didn’t just see her as a soldier or warrior. You saw her for the person she was and not just as a weapon or a monster. You saw her as more. And Annie felt...appreciated. For the first time in her life she felt like she was sincerely liked for who she really was. This innocence made her want to shield you from the cruelty of this world, ensuring that you would never lose those pure thoughts of yours.

🟤🧡💗Everything was alright for some time, but all of them weren’t dumb by any means and realized that they all felt the same for you. And then it came to a small argument. Reiner was definitely the most pissed, Annie was, despite still being able to keep most of her cool, slightly annoyed and Bertholdt was only confused and surprised by this discovery. It became more messy between them after this. They didn’t hate each other, knowing fully well that they needed to work together, not only for their home’s sake, but also for you. But that didn’t mean that there wasn’t some tension. Especially between Annie and Reiner was the tension more thick. Annie had a talent for pissing him with her words off whilst keeping a cold face, making it even for Reiner hard to keep his cool. Bertholdt was the one who tried to ease the tension between the two of them. He considered both of them as his friends and more important, they were also helping to protect you so he needed them to get along.

🟤🧡💗Despite this small problem they were still able to keep you a secret. But things started to become more messy after Annie’s cover had been doomed. This is an AU where she was able to climb over the wall and escape. Suddenly people knew that there were more like Eren out there, people who could transform into Titans. It became more stressful after that for Reiner and Bertholdt, needing to be more careful since it had been known that all three of them had been always very close. Especially after they had found you. There was a closer eye kept on them, not allowing them to visit you every night like they used too, what was for both of them a torture. They feared that at some point you would ran out of food or even worse, the Military Police would find you and investigate you. For Annie it was even worse. Whilst Reiner and Bertholdt were at least still able to reach out to you, she was now completely out. Somehow sneaking back in would be very hard and there was also the danger that she could doom Reiner’s and Bertholdt’s cover or even leading the enemy directly to you. She needed a plan and help, leading us to how you met Zeke.

🟤🧡💗🚬You were very well aware of the events that were avout to happen, speaking of the Beast Titan aka Zeke Yeager coming into the picture. You were aware that some of the original story line had been changed, knowing that Annie had actually been supposed to crystallize herself. You guessed your appearance had led to some change in the plot twist and asked how much that would change the story. And what would happen to you? You got your answer sooner as wanted when that happened which you had already known. When the Titans started to appear inside the wall and the roof of your house had suddenly been lifted up, giving you nearly a heart attack and thinking that this must be your end. That was at least until you recognized the Female Titan. It was Annie who had grabbed you and set you on top of her head before running off with you, not giving your brain the needed time to progress all of this. She just ran away with you, bringing you somewhere else. Somewhere far away from all the disaster that was currently going on in the Walls.

🟤🧡💗🚬It was a while later when you met Zeke who had decided to help Annie with saving you. Could you blame him for wanting to meet the infamous “world traveler”? You didn’t look that different from any other human, but he as a smart man instantly noticed during his talk with you that you were different. From the way you used gestures whilst talking to your speaking pattern. It all was unique, not to mention the weird words you sometimes used from which he had never heard before. He had believed Annie when she had told him about you, being able to tell that she wasn’t lying. But when he asked you what you knew about his past and you held a whole speech, including even his father’s and mother’s past up until now? If he hadn’t been convinced before he was now.

🟤🧡💗🚬It was only natural for him to become obsessed with you. How couldn’t he with someone who was such a mystery? How had you even gotten here? Had there been a reason why you and not someone else? Was there a way to teleport back to your world? What was your world like? At first Zeke had just been obsessed with those kind of questions. But with time they started to revolve more and more around you. What was your family like? How was your childhood? He wanted to know everything. He had expected to be highly interested in you, but he hadn’t expected to feel so abnormally strong for you. What was it about you that caused him to feel this way? Was it your point of view from the meaning of life and this world that he had never heard before? Was it your more innocent and openly personality that was like a breath of fresh air for him? Now that he started thinking about it, there were a lot of things about you that he loved. Who would have thought that he would found himself attracted to a dimension traveler?

🟤🧡💗🚬Not long after meeting Zeke you were also reunited with Reiner and Bertholdt who were honestly nothing, but glad and relieved that you were safe. They had feared that you might have gotten in contact with a Titan or the scouts. But now a new problem appeared. Whilst Reiner, Annie and Bertholdt had gotten by now somewhat adjusted to the fact that they all loved you they hadn’t been prepared to finding out that Zeke had it suddenly for you as well. Zeke hadn’t either. He had suspected from the way Annie had acted when it involved you that she had feelings for you. But he hadn’t expected all three of them to be in love with you. And even with the same unhealthy feelings he was. That was somewhat troublesome.

🟤🧡💗🚬Zeke had an advantage in here. The fact that he was the superior of the three. So it wasn’t rare that he often just snatched you away from the three, claiming that he wanted some more informations from you. In reality he just wanted you away from them and being a manipulative and controlling one he started to try to talk you into avoiding the three and spend your time instead more with him. And that was what caused the tension to reach a suffocating level. Because Annie, Bertholdt and Reiner weren’t happy with that. Whatever dislikes they had held against each other before was put to a stop and they teamed now willingly together. It became honestly like a game of tug of war. Suddenly you found yourself in a situation where Zeke tried to tell you to stay away from those three since they weren’t good influence and Bertholdt, Reiner and Annie telling you that you should probably stay away from Zeke since he wasn’t what he looked like. It was a very tiring situation for you.

🟤🧡💗🚬Now to what would happen if each one of them would find a way to travel back with you. And let’s be honest. They would all use that chance without blinking twice. But would they consider sharing you with someone? Let’s see. For Zeke it would be a huge no. He’s paranoid and not a fan of sharing, making him someone who would definitely take his darling and travel without anyone else to your world to finally have you all for yourself. Annie is another one who would travel alone back with you. She might actually consider the fact of taking Bertholdt and Reiner with her since she has some history with them and they did help her to protect you. But I feel like in the end she would decide that this might cause to arguments for which she don’t have the patience and will also consider Reiner’s unstableness. With Reiner there’s a high possibility that he might take Bertholdt with him given the fact that both of them are really close and there’s a chance that he might even consider taking Annie since she helped protecting you as well. Bertholdt is honestly the most willing to share, seeing both, Annie and Reiner, as his friends and as more ways to ensure that you’re protected and save even in your world. But don’t forget that the moment he witnesses that they should treat you wrongly in his eyes he’s also willing to leave alone with you. But as long as this doesn’t happen he’s fine with taking them too.

#yandere attack on titan #yandere aot #yandere shingeki no kyojin #yandere snk #yandere annie #yandere annie leonhardt #yandere zeke #yandere zeke yeager #yandere reiner #yandere reiner braun #yandere berthold #yandere bertholdt hoover

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danishmiilk · 4 years

Text

when thunder splits the sky - na jaemin

au || royalty!au, soulmates!au

genre || angst, fluff, slight crack

warnings || swearing, death mentioned, almost deathly sickness, a lot of stress on jaemin and y/n’s part, throwing up.

summary || soulmates. the source of happiness, the source of sickness. you’re shocked that your best friend (and the second prince) is your soulmate, but it shouldn’t be too bad. after all, you’re best friends, right? you know each other better than anyone else in the world. but when jaemin refuses to realise his love, shit hits the fan.

word count || ~10k

note || this is a collaboration piece with @astroboy-lele for @k-dinernet‘s dance off event!

you and jaemin were close, closer than a commoner and a prince should be. but since you were the main cook’s daughter, it wasn’t too uncommon to see the two of you running around with bright smiles lighting up your faces. then studies took over for jaemin. he was constantly studying to become a better king than his dad, which was slightly unfair since he wasn’t even the crown prince. but accidents could happen, so jaemin had to be prepared. so you were left to your own devices most of the time, fiddling with things in the kitchen, or helping clean the monstrous castle jaemin called home.

“jaem!” you giggled happily when jaemin emerged from the library’s study. he looked tired. more tired than a 17 year old should be. dark circles contrasted his pale skin, and your hand automatically came up to rub at his slim cheeks. “you should get more rest.” you chided him.

“can’t.” jaemin responded curtly, removing your hands from his face. “i need to study.”

"but you're always studying," you sighed. it shouldn't be this hard to spend time with your best friend, but you supposed it was one of the cons of befriending the second prince of your kingdom.

"you don't understand, y/n! how could you? it's my duty to my family and my country to keep studying in case, heaven forbid, anything happens to doyoung hyung!" he snapped sharply at you, and though you knew he was clearly overstretched and stressed beyond anything you'd ever seen him (or didn't see him, he was always in the library nowadays anyway), you still took a step back and flinched away, hurt. jaemin stepped forward, mouth trying to form apologies. you shook your head, eyes glassy.

“don’t.” your voice was softer than expected. “i’ll.. i’ll leave you to it.” you ran off before jaemin could even react, wiping at your eyes.

jaemin watched you go. he watched you leave, back retreating into the dark hallways. he felt bad, of course he did - jaemin would never snap at you for no good reason. the last time he actually wanted to hurt someone was when you came to him sobbing, one year ago. the memory was still fresh in jaemin’s mind.

you supposed it could be you being too sensitive, but it was the toll the absence of jaemin took on you. sure, absence made the heart grow fonder, but it also did make cracks emerge in a friendship. you couldn’t see your cracks yet, but they’d emerge soon enough - it was the first time in so long you’d managed to talk to jaemin, and he’d just brushed you away brusquely. your hand raised to your eyes to wipe away the stray tears that had fallen.

without looking where you were running, you’d bumped into something very solid. something very human. roughly, you placed your hands on said solid thing and pushed yourself away, speeding around the obstacle to the forest, tears still filling up your eyes. you didn’t blink them back - if you’d blinked, they were sure to have fallen out.

“y/n?” the very confused crown prince shouted out from somewhere behind you, “what’s going on?” and unbeknownst to you, his brother was soon to follow, brushing past him like he was invisible (last he checked, he wasn’t.) “jaemin?” the pair of you had left long before there was a chance to provide the prince with any of his requested answers, leaving a very confused doyoung standing in the middle of the hallway. sighing, doyoung brushed off his clothes. sometimes he didn’t know what he put up with you for.

once you set foot into the forest, immediate regret almost washed over you. it started raining. not gently either, it came down in harsh droplets, hammering into your clothes, thoroughly soaking you to the bone. you shivered, rubbing your hands up and down your arms, trying to bring warmth to yourself. it didn’t work, so you settled with standing under a tree in an attempt to stay out of the storm. you gazed up at the sky, wincing as thunder rumbled in the distance, reminding you of your fears. you wished with all your might that the storm would stop. it didn’t. of course it didn’t. why would it, it was nature, and nature didn’t listen to common people, only the gods above. “y/n? y/n! oh my god, y/n!” you heard a shout echo through the forest, and you shivered again. “there you are, do you know how long i’ve been looking for you?” jaemin accused, hands grabbing at your shoulders. you glared back, though it wasn’t threatening as you were shaking and shivering, teeth chattering. “you know it’s the rainy season and almost winter! what the fuck were you thinking?” jaemin huffed, but shrugged off his coat and draped it around your shoulders gently, concern making his eyebrows knit together.

“it was sunny before.” you protested, and jaemin exhaled, shaking his head with disappointment at your naive actions.

“you should know the weather changes quickly,” jaemin retorted, and that shut you up. you knew the weather changed fast, but emotions took over you, just wanting to escape the castle jaemin called home. “we should find some shelter. i know there’s an old cottage somewhere, i just don’t know where.” jaemin sighed.

you raised your eyebrows at him, “what, it wouldn’t be some strange warped hansel and gretel remix going on, would it? because we’re not smart enough to push witches into ovens.” jaemin smiled widely, chuckling at your small jab at yourself and him.

“no, it’s completely safe.” he assured you, grabbing your hand. jaemin nervously cleared his throat. “uh… i, i should apologize for earlier. it wasn’t right for me to snap at you.” you squeezed his hand gently.

“i know you’re stressed, it’s okay. i really should be more lenient.” you sighed, slightly disappointed in yourself for not understanding your best friend’s struggles. his hair was sticking to his forehead, yours similarly sticking you your arms and neck.

“it’s just the expectations, you know. of my parents, of the people… of the country.” jaemin’s eyes widened in horror and fear, an expression that would be almost comical under different circumstances and whispered, “what if i have to rule the country one day?”

your friend blanched and you sighed, tightening your hold around him to anchor him to reality, “look, i’m not saying you’re incapable of doing it, but it’s really quite impossible that something were to happen to doyoung, so i don’t think you really have to worry about that too much. still, being royalty is probably way harder than i could imagine.”

his voice wistful, jaemin’s eyes shined with tears - or perhaps it was just the rain creating illusions. “sometimes i wish i were never born into royalty. but you know what, there’s pros and cons to everything, that’s just how life is. we get privileges, but we can’t have the best of both worlds. still,” he looked down at the wet ground, “every time i see children running about or playing with their friends in courtyards or in the streets, it makes me wish i had a childhood. makes me wish i had friends, and was allowed to play with them, to live a normal life. normal. what a beautiful word, really, and how ironic that millions of people would give anything to be a member of the royal family, while the second prince would do anything to get out of being one.”

there wasn’t very much to say, you thought, considering jaemin very rarely went into long, emotional speeches like this one. you’d never be able to understand, and you weren’t about to try. softly, so very softly, you whispered, “but you have me.” jaemin smiled softly, and slightly proudly at you.

“yeah. yeah, i do.” and he did. he’s always had you, from the first day he sneaked into the kitchen for a taste of his birthday cake before he was supposed to, until- well, there isn’t an until if you’ll have his back forever, is there?

a cottage was beginning to come into view in the distance, a quaint little thing fit for no more than one person (or perhaps seven dwarves, no reference to snow white intended). the rain blurred your vision and wind whipped through your hair, but it was shelter, and so hand in hand, you ran towards it.

“to what honour do i owe the presence of the second prince at my humble abode?” a boy’s voice, sweet and melodic, came from behind you.

you jumped. “jaemin! i thought you said it was safe.” you hissed, clutching at jaemins arms. jaemin just shrugged. you sighed, keeping an eye on the strange boy. jaemin gripped your hand tighter, however.

jaemin gestured vaguely around, staring at the auburn-haired boy with no small amount of skepticism, “i thought you’d be… older. like, an old lady.”

the boy scoffed. “who’s to say i’m not? witches don’t always have to be middle aged ladies with no fashion sense and even less hair. i’m donghyuck, by the way. come on in.” jaemin was still looking the boy up and down in curiosity, finally blurting out, “witches use umbrellas?”

“no, we’re waterproof,” donghyuck deadpanned, sarcasm filling his words.

“jaemin,” you frowned, “do you know him?” a quick shake of his head confirmed your suspicions. “then why,” you half-screeched into his ear, “do you assume he’s safe?”

“i’m not. i could turn you into a frog, if you want.” the boy suggested, waving a hand, making you flinch and jaemin move your smaller frame behind him. donghyuck moved a shoulder evenly up and down, “joking.”

“that wasn’t funny!” you gasped. donghyuck moved his other shoulder up and down, doing a strange half-shrug again, “nobody gets my humour.”

you followed him into the house, dripping water all over his doormat and the wooden planks of his floor, but not daring to move any further than that. donghyuck waved his hand, slamming the wooden door shut behind you and lighting the fire, “will the two of you stop looking so shocked? it’s not like i’m going to cook you for dinner, so why are you acting like you’ve never seen a witch before?”

“because we haven’t,” the note of childlike curiosity reappeared in jaemin’s voice, and you were glad his mind was taken off of his royal duties, “they were outlawed a long time ago.” “right,” donghyuck levitated a couple mugs of cocoa over to you, “i forgot, sorry.”

“so your existence is basically illegal, and yet you’re serving the prince of your kingdom hot chocolate in the middle of the thunderstorm like nothing’s wrong?” you sputtered in disbelief, though you didn’t actually splutter, of course; that was rather an expression authors liked using. “all in a day’s work,” donghyuck glanced at you again, “come in and stop dripping water on the mat. would you believe it, magically drying the mat is harder than magically drying the wood.” very honestly, you didn’t know what to make of that boy.

you stood awkwardly, pressing yourself into jaemin’s side as you watched donghyuck bustle around his house, ironically not unlike an old lady. “so, ummm, could you show us some magic or something?”

“like drying our clothes,” jaemin added, motioning to the soaked fabric draped over his body.

“they’ll dry, just sit by the fireplace. in the meantime, i can show you a soulmate spell if you’d like to see it. it’s one of the easier and prettier spells, so i think you’d enjoy it, even if it’s highly unlikely it would work. soulmates are rare things, and even rarer are soulmates who discover each other and the fact that they are soulmates. so i’ll do it, but if you two don’t turn out to be soulmates, don’t be disappointed. if you do, there isn’t going to be a flash of golden light and a shower of sequins either, so don’t get your hopes up.”

“you’re saying like what would happen is one of us would die and suddenly come back to life.” you sarcastically commented, but eyes growing wide as the moon above when donghyuck looked around nervously.

“well…” he started, but you held up a hand.

“excuse me, what. come again?”

“let me just show you.” donghyuck sighed, and got up, grabbing a book from the large shelf pushed against the wall. he flipped through a few pages carefully, and let out a satisfied “ah,” when he found the correct page in the yellowing book. “the concept of soulmates hath been the strongest bond known to man since the beginnings of time. for the true blossoming of true love takes place when the eyes of soulmates transform into colours of the fall. time and time again, history older than anything thou or i could ever imagine hast proven that soulmates are rare, ones who know about them even more so. for thee, the pair who is reading this, thou art soulmates. it would be an insult to fate and everyone who cannot experience such a connection to not realise your feelings. thou hath one month to realize feelings or one half of the pair will be fated to a cruel ending. as mere mortals, we do not make the rules. nobody can help thee except the other, but fear not. you are soulmates. you have a bond. said bond shalt be enough, if thou realises it.” haechan read, rubbing the thin, old pages of the book between careful fingers. you glanced over at jaemin who was shifting his weight back and forth, not knowing where to put his feet. “so, basically,” donghyuck started, ignoring jaemin’s nervous state. “if your soulmate doesn’t acknowledge their feelings for you, or you don’t, one of you would basically die.” he shrugged. your mouth dropped open. how in the world was he so calm about it? “what the fuck? they could die?” jaemin seemed to share your sentiment.

“what is a fuck?” donghyuck furrowed his eyebrows together, evidently confused as to what this strange new word meant. jaemin faltered, taken aback, “wait, dude, you look like you’re, what, seventeen, and you have no idea what fuck means?” donghyuck looked at jaemin like he was an idiot, “never gotten the chance to interact with a lot of other seventeen year olds.” jaemin nodded solemnly, “can relate. only got this loser for a friend.” jaemin hooked a thumb in your direction. you rolled your eyes.

“let us begin the spell! i feel like i’m conducting a child gender reveal party,” he exclaimed happily, rubbing his hands together with glee. you held up your hand.

“hold the fuck up, you’re not performing this spell! one of us could DIE!” you exclaimed.

“there’s the word fuck again. kinda catchy.” donghyuck tested it out under his breath. “any other new words?” he asked. jaemin opened his mouth, no doubt to actually teach donghyuck how to swear, and well, you weren’t exactly opposed to letting him, but not dying came higher than teaching people you just met how to swear on your priority list.

“don’t worry. there’s only a slight chance that you’re soulmates anyway, and it’s better to know than to remain in oblivion. i’m not kidding.” “ignorance is bliss?” you suggested, desperate to stop donghyuck. “no, y/n. i think… if we indeed are soulmates, we deserve to know. i want to at least know why i died if i do suddenly die.”

“i have heard of that saying, y/n, was it? say, can fuck be used as a noun, a verb or an adjective?” “any way you want,” jaemin grinned, “reality can be anything you wish it to be!” “sweet,” donghyuck plonked a cauldron of unknown origin onto the table, “i like that word already.”

pulling a ladle out of seemingly nowhere, donghyuck pointed said ladle at you, “what’s your favourite flower?” you stared at him blankly, “you need that for the spell? i don’t really have a preference.” donghyuck rolled his eyes, “no, i was just curious. if you’re interested, your aura says daisy and jaemin’s absolutely screams carnations. for the record, i have zero idea what those flowers mean, but who cares?” he waved an arm over the cauldron which then proceeded to bubble, pushing dandelions and carnations to the surface. white. all white. “pretty enough, i suppose. i don’t usually give my services discounted, so you can just teach me some new words and it’s a deal.”

as you thought back, you did have a small memory of making flower crowns with jaemin. you often made daisy crowns, while jaemin’s were, as far as you knew, carnations. they were always given to you, all his carnation-based flower accessories: crowns, necklaces, bracelets.

you were jerked back to the present and away from distant memories as jaemin helpfully, or not so helpfully, instructed donghyuck on how to swear, “so, motherfucker is a noun. the verb equivalent is motherfucking, but that’s usually used as an adjective anyway. can also be shortened to mf. bitch is a more female-specific curse word since its original meaning was something along the lines of female dog.”

“i thought dogs were nice,” donghyuck pointed a finger aggressively at the bubbling liquid inside the cauldron, flowers obscuring most of its contents, “this always takes way too fucking long to boil so i can’t do anything. how perfectly bitchy of it.” jaemin’s face lit up with that mischievous smile you were so used to, “you’re a natural!” “why, thank you.” you had to be imagining things. either that, or your ears were waterlogged. shaking your head wildly, all you got was a headache, so no, your ears weren’t waterlogged. and so the two boys before you were complimenting each other casually on their ability to swear, even as one’s existence was against the law and the other was the prince of your kingdom. because that was not… strange. not strange at all.

“why don’t you teach him things like crap, hell and damn? why… fuck and bitch?” donghyuck had settled into an armchair by the fire, snapping his fingers every minute or so to keep the cauldron’s contents boiling, “you want to learn the interesting shit. like, you know, if i can learn shit and motherfucker then why am i learning crap and hell and damn? they sound lame compared to bitch, fuck and shit.” donghyuck shrugged, you sighed, and jaemin nodded like he’d birthed and raised donghyuck for seventeen years just for this moment.

“i mean, my parents don’t let me curse, but it’s fun to see them mad sometimes.” jaemin shrugged. you shook your head at the boy next to you (we shall omit the fact that he learnt half his curse words from you, and the other half from the legendary crown prince’s speech in which he accidentally swore half a dozen times in front of the whole nation. doyoung got grounded, but it made jaemin, and by extension you, developed a heck of a lot more respect for him.) you watched quietly as the two boys exchanged details about their lives and excitedly swore together. unconsciously, you started shivering again, your clothes still not quite dry. jaemin noticed, and picked up the blanket laid across his lap, wrapping it around your shoulders, making sure the blanket was secure around you before turning back to donghyuck. you learnt he also liked to be called haechan or hyuck, lived out here all his life, and didn’t know much about the kingdom from having to stay hidden from the world. jaemin’s expression held a hint of guilt, knowing that he was a member of the family that had caused huyck's plight.

“ooh! the spell is done!” hyuck clapped, and scrambled to his feet, once again doing the weird shrug thing, skipping over to the cauldron. his hair bounced and jaemin snickered while you quieted him. you shrank back into the couch as the sounds from the caldron became louder and donghyuck’s eyes started to sparkle. jaemin grabbed your hand, palms slightly sweaty. donghyuck peered into the large metal bowl, and smiled. his smile made you a bit uneasy.

“ready?” he asked the two of you, and jaemin nodded while you hesitated.

“yes.”

nothing happened for a moment and haechan waved his hands over the flower-filled water, mumbling some ancient words. you watched, eyes wide, as the water came out in a stream, winding around the circumference of the small cottage, and then around you and jaemin’s hands. you gasped, as the water was ice cold though it was boiling just moments ago. a daisy settled on jaemins wrist, wrapping around it tightly. a carnation wrapped around your finger, like it’s own special promise to you. jaemin frowned.

“is that supposed to mean something?” he asked, tugging at the flower. it didn’t move or tear. haechan eyes doubled in size as his eyes zeroed in on the flowers.

“you’re… you’re soulmates.”

jaemin stood there in shock, and shook his head. “no way. we’re best friends.” he protested. your heart was slightly crushed, as you liked him for a few months now. who wouldn’t? “we can’t be soulmates. no way.” he shook his head again, as if to clear away the water clogging his ears. you let go of jaemin’s hand. your heart was hammering, matching the raindrops that pelted to the ground.

“are.. are you sure?” you asked, voice wavering. haechan nodded. your hands were shaking now, and jaemin was ignoring you. “can i… may i lie down?” you asked, twirling a finger around your long strands of hair. donghyuck nodded, pointing you to what you assumed to be his room. as you slipped off, you heard jaemin and donghyuck whisper something together.

the next few days you didn’t see much of jaemin, only when he came out of the library to get food. even those days were rare, as he often ate in there, or brought his lunch in during the morning. and each day, jaemins face looked more and more pale. the flowers had vanished, though they left marks on where they rested just a week ago. you cast a glance down the empty hallway to the library, feet hesitating. you made up your mind, pushing open the large oak doors and… found jaemin passed out on the ground.

you gasped, rushing over and checking his temperature. it was abnormally normal, though he was sweating. you called a maid over, and soon you found yourself in the hospital wing. how were you going to break it to his parents that their younger son was sick because you two were soulmates. the thought itself was ridiculous.

“is jaemin okay?” well, fuck you, he’s obviously not. an undertone of worry was detected from the trained calmness of doyoung’s voice. the king and queen had yet to arrive, and doyoung stood behind you, hand resting on your shoulder in a slightly failed attempt to calm you. quick breaths left you, panic filling your mind and cluttering your lungs. the crown prince patted at your shoulder awkwardly, turning to leave as he couldn’t really do much. besides, it was fairly obvious the two of you needed to be alone.

as the day faded into night, jaemin was still, not moving as you watched him, hands grasping at your hair. this was all your fault. no, it was that bitch of a witch named donghyuck. he cast the spell. you wanted to blame jaemin for not accepting that you were soulmates, and now he was going to die because of it.

obviously, you hadn’t had a soulmate before. but you could sense it, you knew that no matter what jaemin had done, you wouldn’t be able to stay mad at him. to love so hard you’re falling, but you know you’re flying. you’re not there yet, definitely not. there was an inkling of the possibility of that happening, though. you barely blamed jaemin for everything (which was mostly his fault anyway), and staring at the pale complexion of the boy in front of you, you couldn’t bring yourself to stay angry. you slipped your hand into his (see? can’t help it. this was all because you were soulmates, and totally not because you just wanted to.), and as storybook-esque as it was, it felt so right. a maid brought you dinner, but you couldn’t bring yourself to scoop the rice and noodles into your mouth. your stomach was protesting, but you didn’t care, resting your head on your arm, you clutched jaemin’s hand tightly. tears pricked at your eyes, and this time, you didn’t stop them.

doyoung came by again in the morning and found you awake, dark blue and purple eyebags obnoxiously present. “have you been here the whole night?” you stretched, not letting go of jaemins limp hand, back aching from the uncomfortable position you were in for the whole night.

“is there a wrong answer?” you asked, yawning as you spoke. doyoung sighed, rubbing at his temples.

“he’ll survive, y/n. it’s just sickness. we have the best doctor-”

“it’s not just a sickness!” you snapped, fire igniting in your stomach, the need to protect haechan slowly shrinking. you found yourself telling the oldest prince everything from getting caught in the rain, jaemin having a breakdown, the walk in the woods, to finding the cottage, and even the witch you encountered, though his existence was very much illegal. doyoung listened. he listened to every word, and nodded along, though his eyes were slowly going from panicked to angry.

“so, you found a witch, donghyuck, was it?” you nodded in confirmation, death gripping jaemin’'s hand. if he ever woke up he would for sure scold you for making his dominant hand ache. “he cast a soulmate spell, and jaemin didn’t accept. so now the gods are punishing him?” you nodded again. doyoung sighed, rubbing at his temples again. you watched anxiously, worried for donghyuck’s safety.

“could you get donghyuck to come here?” doyoung asked. that is not what you were expecting. blinking nervously, you nodded. you remembered the path jaemin took, right? if not, you could just shout.

“do you promise not to kill him? or like, arrest him? he’s an annoying motherfucker, but i think jaemin would be sad if you did,” you inhaled. doyoung nodded with a perfectly straight face. “he could turn you into a frog.” you added, deciding to trust him. doyoung looked a bit shocked, but you reluctantly stood up. “i’ll be back.” you whispered to jaemin, leaving doyoung to look after his brother.

setting off in the woods alone was scarier than you thought. shivering, you really wished you had jaemin in that moment. really wished. the sooner you got to donghyuck, the sooner he would be better, right? wrong.

“what do you mean you can’t remove the spell?” you shrieked, panic filling you once again. donghyuck looked sorrowful, and doyoung was standing with his arms crossed off in the corner.

“i can’t, i’m sorry, y/n. jaemin has to realize he loves you for the sickness to go away. and either way, all my spell did was prove that the two of you were soulmates. the sickness stems from the heavens”

“i have to what?” jaemin’s voice cracked slightly from not using it for the past few days. “jaemin!” you practically sobbed, hand clenching around his fingers from where you’d reached for them unknowingly. he squeezed back weakly, coughing. “what do i have to do?”

“realize you love y/n.” haechan said simply.

“i don’t think it works like that!” your voice came out slightly higher than usual, laughing nervously to stop jaemin from feeling uncomfortable. he had to, love didn’t work as such. you just didn’t decide to go, ‘okay today i have decided i love y/n!’ jaemin looked at donghyuck with visible confusion. all haechan offered was a half shrug in return.

“what happens if i don’t?” jaemin whispered. haechan glanced at doyoung, nervous that someone so high and regal was standing in the same room as him - jaemin didn’t count, seeing as he’d spent the first hour of knowing hyuck teaching him to swear, and he wasn’t the crown prince anyway - if he did or said the wrong thing, he would definitely get executed.

“we’ll get there when we get there. how long does he have?” doyoung asked. you gripped jaemin’s hand tighter, nervous of the answer. “it… depends?” donghyuck offered. doyoung scowled. “very helpful.” “i’m sorry, i’ve never had to deal with this kind of fuckery before,” donghyuck waved his hands around, “okay, swear i’m not doing magic, but i really didn’t cause any of this. okay. maybe a bit. but it would have happened anyways.” your eyebrow lifted.

“what do you mean, anyways?” jaemin asked, frowning.

“the soulmate spell only helps the soulmates find each other. and gets the show on quicker, but a year from now, the same thing would’ve happened.” haechan explained, still waving a hand. doyoung’s eyebrows knitted together. “so, jaemin and y/n should spend as much time together as they can.” hyuck concluded.

“and die faster?” jaemin snarled. haechan shook his head quickly, eyes straying to the other royal member in the room.

“no, if you spend more time together, then it’ll slow down until you realise you’re in love. usually, you get only a week, but if you spend every day together, it’s up to… a month?” haechan shrugged, letting the slightest hint of resentment slip into his voice, “maybe i’d know better if i actually could come out of hiding to be taught by more experienced witches. my work here seems to be done anyway, adios!” it was like donghyuck was born to be a showman. he ripped the curtains off and disappeared under them with a flash, letting the rich fabric settle slowly to the ground. doyoung sighed.

“well, you guys heard what he said. spend as much time together as you can.” doyoung shrugged. “and jaemin, try not to die.” doyoung added, a small smile playing at his lips, like he knew something you didn’t. jaemin nodded, head thrown back onto the plush pillows. you frowned, jaemin usually loved to hang out with you. something definitely changed over the last few weeks.

try not to die, he said. well, you were definitely dying inside. and jaemin wasn’t getting any better, coughing, occasional throwing up, and sneezing. he barely could keep his food down, let alone sit up without any help. it worried you. it worried you a lot more than you let on. to say things were awkward was putting it lightly. everyone avoided the two of you, seeing the tension held over your and jaemin’s heads. you started to get fed up after a few days.

“what happened? aren’t you supposed to be with jaemin?” doyoung asked as you stormed downstairs.

“he’s not talking to me. what’s the harm in taking a small break?” you exhaled, running a hand through your now messy hair. doyoung frowned, the worry lines creasing his forehead. “don’t worry, i’m going back to the ward in half an hour. it’s just so… infuriating.” you ranted to the crown prince, resting your head on the stairwell railing. doyoung had stopped you half way down the stairs. “we’re soulmates for god's sake! can’t he just… talk to me? when did he start to see me as a bother? when did he… start to hate me? it’s like we never were friends. i miss him, doyoung. i miss my best friend. i miss his smile, his laugh, his weird antics, i miss my jaemin.” you whimpered, tears pricking your eyes for the third time today. jaemin being sick and ignoring you while, quite literally, on his deathbed did not help. especially since you two were soulmates.

“when did you start to fall in love with him?” doyoung questioned softly. you thought for a moment. when did you truely start to love jaemin? not in the rain. not when you had your first fight when you saw him. no, it started a while ago. when jaemin started to grow up. when you stopped making flower jewelry and when he started to give you real gems. when? you weren’t exactly sure. maybe you always loved him. maybe he always loved you. but when would he figure that out? doyoung just nodded, understanding your confused gaze, unfocused and misty-eyed. he stood up, brushing his black slacks and deep red shirt. “give him a bit. jaemin is a bit slow with these kinds of things.” you only nodded in response, mindlessly walking back to the ward jaemin was residing in.

jaemin still was not getting any better the next few days. he still refused to talk to you, only nodding or rolling his eyes as a response to you trying to start to converse. you were starting to lose hope.

you were surprised to see him lying on the cold tiled ground.

“jaemin, why are you on the ground? you should be in bed. it’s cold out.” you scolded, moving towards him. jaemin held up a hand, draping his hands over his stomach.

“the floor is nice and cold,” he uttered, sighing with relief as the tile cooled his sweaty body down. you frowned, huffing. jaemin, once again, did not listen.

“the ground is dirty. i can turn down the heat-” jaemin cut you off.

“shut up! i’m dying, i don’t care if the ground is dirty!” jaemin hissed, and you backed up, saddened by his tone. jaemin didn’t notice, too busy coughing into his elbow to notice your state.

“you’re not going to die,” you whispered, and jaemin moved his elbow away. “you’re not. i refuse to let you. i don’t care if you don’t love me right now, but you’re my soulmate, jaemin. soulmate. do you know how many people wish to have soulmates? jaemin, i’ve been by your side since we were in diapers. we played in the mud together. we got in trouble together. we did everything together, jaemin. i watched you grow up. i watched you become more responsible. i watched, and i waited for you to confess. but you never did, so now you’re sick, and it’s all your fault. don’t push the blame on me, on donghyuck, or on anyone. this is on you. if you want to sit here and wallow in your self-pity, go ahead. i’m tired, jaemin. i tried to give you time, but you only have three weeks left. i don’t…” you choked on your words. “i don’t know what i’ll do if you ever die suddenly.” you whispered, backing out of the door. jaemin struggled to his feet, but you were already gone, ends of your hair and dress flowing behind you.

he stared at the empty spot where you’d been just moments before, feeling the same emptiness in his heart. bitterness welled up from within him. he wasn’t that dumb either, but love just didn’t work that way. just because some spell told you that you were soulmates didn’t necessarily mean that with a magical click of your fingers you’d stare into each others eyes and sappily declare your everlasting love.

doyoung stepped out from nowhere, looking around with a confused expression, “where’s y/n? i swear i saw her here just a few minutes ago.”

“hey, hyung.” doyoung hummed in response. jaemin sat up with some difficulty, holding a hand up to stop doyoung from trying to help him, “what if this sickness has got nothing to do with the soulmate fuckery? what if i just, uh, have the plague or something?”

“have the plague or something,” doyoung drawled sarcastically, “the last time the plague was going around was, like, a hundred years ago.” jaemin winced.

“or maybe i have cancer.”

“or maybe,” doyoung narrowed his eyes at his brother, “you’re just being a fatheaded dick who can’t come to terms with the fact that you’re soulmates with your best friend, and have to realise your love for each other so you don’t suddenly stop breathing!” doyoung stalked out of the room without a single word, pausing to seemingly contemplate whether slamming the (very heavy) oak door would help prove his point. he very intelligently settled on just stamping his foot. it made him look like a child, but jaemin hadn’t seen doyoung this upset in a while. and frankly, it got him thinking a bit.

you walked into the hospital wing as usual without greeting jaemin. it wasn’t like you got a reply anyway. “hey,” the prince offered as you took up your usual spot by his bed with a book, a clear indication that you didn’t want conversation.

your eyebrows twitched a little. granted, you weren’t expecting him to say anything, but it must be a testament to your friendship if your little blow up had at least gotten jaemin to think a little. you stared pointedly down at the book you didn’t even know the title of.

“y/n.” still no response. “you’re holding the book upside down,” jaemin sighed.

furious with yourself, you flipped the book the right side up again, “you don’t want to talk to me. stop forcing yourself to.”

“i do want to talk to you, okay? i don’t particularly want to die either, the soulmates idea is just hard to stomach.”

“what, does loving me sound so bad? am i so unlovable?” you slammed your book closed, trying not to choke on the shower of dust that came with it. logically, you shouldn’t be getting mad. jaemin was just trying to make things better, but he sounded so forced. “you sound so forced to do this, jaemin.”

“oh, are you getting mad at me now? you were sad because i wasn’t talking to you, and now you’re mad because i am! what the fuck am i supposed to do?” jaemin glared at you from underneath the covers, “i’m trying, okay? i thought you said you didn’t want me to die!”

“i don’t want you to die!” you hissed back at him, tears springing to your eyes again.

“are you crying again? if every time we talk you get that sad, then maybe you should just let me die!”

you dusted yourself off and ran out of the room, not even bothering to give jaemin an answer. why didn’t he get it? it’s not that hard to understand! (when else but) on your way out, you bumped into (who else but) doyoung, crying (what else but) angry tears. again. you really had to stop doing that.

to nobody in particular, doyoung whispered, “why are they so angsty?”

“we need to talk,” doyoung declared the moment he walked into the room in one of the pockets of time that you weren’t in it. jaemin looked up from the extremely interesting loose thread on his blanket and nodded, “what about?”

“y/n.”

jaemin’s expression darkened in a nanosecond. “no,” he practically growled, “not her again. i can figure this out myself, doyoung hyung! you don’t have to help me.”

“if you can figure this out yourself, the two of you wouldn’t be the embodiment of every sad angsty book ever written.”

“it’s our way of coping with things.” the words sounded fake even to jaemin’s own ears.

“no,” doyoung deadpanned, “don’t fuck around with me.” he hissed, “you know she cries every time you give her unwanted insults. let’s count how many times i ran into her, sometimes quite literally, in the hallway with her crying. one, the day you two got lost in the woods. two, when you were passed out and unresponsive, three, a few days after you woke up and weren’t talking to her, four, literally yesterday after you basically told her she was unlovable.” doyoung held up his fingers mockingly and it felt like jaemin had just been slapped in the face. “four times, na jaemin. four times you fucked up, four times y/n felt worthless, four times more than needed. four times. thats more than anything that happened in the last 16 years of your friendship. four times in less than a month. get your shit together, jaemin.” doyoung snapped, and spun around on his heel. jaemin felt like everyone was against him at this point.

a week passes and hey, what did you know? some improvement was showing. you and jaemin could hold, an (albeit very awkward, but still) a conversation. it was a relief to you, but you were slightly suspicious of him. jaemin still couldn’t look you in the eyes, glancing away or inspecting his nails. but you couldn’t ask anymore of him, he went from straight out ignoring you, to asking how your day went. jaemin sent you a small smile, fiddling in his seat.

“how… how are you?” jaemin asked, glancing at your features shyly. you smiled, though it felt more forced than genuine.

“i’m good. have you been getting better?”

“well, you know. not really,” jaemin shrugged, not looking at you, “it hasn’t been getting worse either, though.”

you ignored the way jaemin was pointedly avoiding your gaze and offered a half smile you didn't really mean, “the weather isn’t very good today, is it?” the weather hadn’t been really good for the past week or so. even if you weren’t spending every waking (and sleeping) moment by jaemin’s side, you wouldn’t have been able to go out of the castle. the relentless rain pouring down on the windows made sure of that.

“y/n, i still think we have to talk.” jaemin’s expression turned serious, “i know i’ve been a dick these few weeks, and i’m not even going to try excusing myself for that. but i want you to know that no matter what, i still treasure you a lot as my best friend. i think i just need time - okay, admittedly we haven’t got very much of that left, about a week and a half or so, but i struggle with feelings. i really struggle a lot and it’s overwhelming and i miss you so much, i miss talking to you not-awkwardly and i want our old relationship back.”

you promised yourself you weren’t going to cry again, because god knows you’ve cried too much. “okay then,” you laughed lightly, “if you’re going to make this a deep sentimental talk, just know that i’m willing to wait for you for as long as you need. sadly this isn’t up to me.”

jaemin remained silent for a bit, taking in what you just said. when he spoke again, you were shocked. “do you think i love you?”

you cocked your head, “what i think doesn’t matter. the question is what do you think?”

“i want to know what you think.”

knowing he wasn’t going to let you go until you told him so, you sighed, “i think you do.”

“platonically or romantically?”

“my father wants my help in the kitchens, your highness. i’ll see you later.”

it was raining again, and you didn’t show up in his room like normal. jaemin was worried, and he got out of his bed clumsily, grabbing a cane, which he winced at. he looked like an old man with it. drawing back the heavy velvet curtains, the glass of his widow was covered in water droplets, all racing to the window sill. jaemin spotted you running around the courtyard, mouth open with a muted laugh and eyes sparkling even though you were soaked to the skin. jaemin found himself smiling, watching you with fond eyes. his senses kicked in, and he realized. he was truly, and utterly, with every fiber of his being, every cell in his body, in love with you. with his best friend. with the person who stuck by him all these years. who loved all his flaws and imperfections. he, na jaemin, second prince in line, never to sit on the throne (he didn’t mind that part), was in love with you. a cook's daughter, a commoner, but most importantly, his soulmate.

when you came inside, your teeth were chattering and you were shivering all over, but it was the happiest you’d felt in a while. nothing was better than dancing in the rain, really, except dancing in the rain with jaemin. that now… that was a hundred times better, but na jaemin was sick, so you’d have to forgo that. practically waltzing into jaemin’s room, you grinned at him, your good mood making you forget all the awkwardness. he was just your best friend, your best friend of so many years. awkwardness who?

“jaems!” it might have been the prior realization of love making jaemin completely disregard any tension that might have been between the two of you earlier, but he grinned back at you just as happily as you’d greeted him, “y/n!” he frowned, pretending he hadn’t been watching you from his window just a few minutes prior because that was borderline creepy, “why are you all wet?”

“i danced in the rain. oh god, jaemin, do you remember that time when we were dancing together in the rain and then decided to use a banana leaf as an umbrella but we got wet anyway? and then-”

“and then,” jaemin picked up seamlessly from where you left off, the grin not disappearing, “doyoung hyung came to check on us because he was scared we’d catch colds from running around in the rain all day. then we slipped and fell into the mud, splashing him all over.”

you laughed, a light tinkling sound that reminded jaemin again of why he loved you, “i swear the mud mask made his skin better.”

jaemin practically screeched with laughter, “you mean you’ve been looking at my brother’s skin?”

the overwhelming love and affection you felt for your best friend in that moment, both platonically and romantically, made you throw your arms around him, instantly soaking him through with your wet clothes. somehow, the two of you ended up sprawled on his bed.

“you know what? i love you.” jaemin sighed, snuggling into your embrace. your ears burned red.

“you.. you what?” you asked timidly. you really hoped jaemin said what you thought he said. jaemin smiled, leaning back more, adjusting the position the two of you were in. you now were snuggled into his chest, sighing as you felt your eyelids droop. jaemin chuckled lowly, and pressed a kiss to your forehead.

“i’ll be here when you wake up.” he whispered softly. you fell asleep, mind calm for once.

“jaemin- okay, you can explain why y/n’s soaking your bedsheets through and the both of you are completely drenched in rainwater first,” doyoung arched an eyebrow, “have y’all finally gotten your shit together?”

“i think i love her, hyung,” jaemin’s arm curled protectively around you, “really.”

doyoung clicked his tongue, shaking his head in disapproval, “you think? be sure of it, jaems. i’ve practically raised the two of you and watched you grow up, and now you say you only think you love her?”

“i love her.” jaemin struggled to hold back the laugh that was threatening to spill out of his chest. “i love her!” he repeated again, louder this time. seeing the finger doyoung had to his lips, he quietened down to prevent waking you up, “thank you, hyung. for knocking some sense into me.”

doyoung smiled, “anytime. it’s my job, after all. now, i think you two need some alone time. see you at dinner, i truly doubt you’ll still be sick.”

you were awakened by the sound of the door closing. rubbing your eyes tiredly, you looked around, disoriented, “did someone come in?”

“it’s nothing, y/n. just a servant. sleep, i love you.”

you yawned, “i love you too.” and you snuggled back under the covers with him, acting like it was the most natural thing to do in the world.

“hey,” jaemin whispered in your ear, waking you up gently, “i hate to have to wake you up, but dinner’s in a few. my parents want to see you too, apparently.”

you blinked the sleep away from your eyes, looking at his smiling face. waking up to jaemin’s smile was something you could get used to, you thought. “what?”

“i said, we have to go get ready for dinner. you too, yes, main banquet hall, my parents want to see you.”

your mouth dropped open, all thoughts of sleep gone, “i don’t have clothes suitable for a fancy dinner!”

“oh yes you do. wear that yellow dress with the sunflowers.”

“is that formal enough?”

“y/n, like, you’ve literally talked to my parents so many times. they watched you grow up. they’re not so different from doyoung and i.”

“but this is the first time meeting them as your girlfriend!” oh god, did you really just say that? you cringed inwardly. you hadn’t even put a label on the relationship yet. rushing to make amends, you stuttered out, “soulmate. i mean soulmate.”

“you’ve always been my soulmate. as for girlfriend, well, you can be if you want to, but we have explaining to do. now move! the entire bed is wet!”

with strength a sick person shouldn’t possess, jaemin threw you out of his bed playfully. you looked up in shock and happiness, “you’re well again! you’re not sick anymore!”

jaemin grinned down at you from his bed, “we realised our love. see you in twenty, adios, au revoir, zaijian, sayonara!” yelling at the top of his lungs, he pushed you out of his room and slammed the door, and you honestly couldn’t care less. you were flying (figuratively, of course), drunk on the sentiments of finally realising your feelings for your best friend and soulmate.

growing up in the castle had taught you some things about manners, especially when the queen insisted you attend some etiquette lessons together with jaemin (to keep him in check, she’d said). dropping into a deep curtsey in front of the royal family, you rose again when the king placed a warm hand on your shoulder, “get up, y/n. we’re all family here, there’s not need for such formalities. you never really did those before either.”

“i was eight and didn’t know much about manners,” you protested lightly as he steered you into your seat beside jaemin, then taking his own at the head of the table - the king’s seat.

you ate in silence and as fast as you could without being rude. nobody made a move to break the silence, so you sat and waited until the last of the plates had been cleared away by the servants, then leaned forward, “if it isn’t rude to ask, may i know why i’ve suddenly been called here for dinner?”

the queen smiled kindly at you, “of course not, dear. well, today we have two announcements to make, one of which concerns you.” she glanced at the king, who inclined his head at her with a smile as if to say “the floor is all yours, dear.” the queen turned back to you, and seeing the dying rays of last light hit her face, you were again reminded of how beautiful the queen was. “firstly, about doyoung. now, we all know that my dear son here is turning twenty one in a month’s time and has finished his education. and so, doyoung, my son, your father has decided to pass on the kingdom to you. the announcement to the people will happen in a few days’ time, if you agree, and the coronation shall be held on your birthday. you are a much beloved crown prince, and i am sure the news of your coronation will delight the kingdom. i do hope you accept. so,” she practically glowed with pride, staring at the shell-shocked prince, “do you?”

“it would be an honor, mother. but didn’t father say he enjoyed being king?” doyoung, the rightful heir to the throne and the one who’d been trained for this his entire life, looked shocked, to say the least. you couldn’t blame him; it must’ve felt like the weight of the world was on his shoulders.

“your mother and i have long been dreaming of a proper honeymoon in the carribean. away from the eyes of the public,” his father’s voice boomed encouragingly.

“then yes, i accept,” doyoung’s eyes were shining with tears and you really hoped he wasn’t about to cry. knowing him, once he started crying, he wouldn’t stop and that would really… kill the mood.

“cheers to king doyoung,” jaemin raised his glass of juice (seventeen is not of a legal age to consume alcohol) to the sky, looking elated for his brother, “and for heaven’s sake, king doyoung, don’t cry!”

doyoung sniffled a little, holding his own goblet of wine to his brother’s, “i won’t cry! thank you so much!”

“congratulations,” you grinned at doyoung, who’d been just as much your elder brother all these years as he’d been jaemin’s. just in the past month, he’d slapped the two of you so hard to get your shit together, and he should honestly be crowned fairy godmother of the year. except that he wasn’t old, didn’t have white hair pulled up into a bun, and (sadly) didn’t own wings.

“now for our second announcement. doyoung’s explained everything to us already, i hope you don’t mind.” doyoung grinned guiltily at you over the table - honestly! like he’d done anything wrong! “you’re obviously too young for marriage, but y/n, your parents, whom i’ve just talked to, and us - we give you all our blessings. let this relationship prosper!”

jaemin squeezed your hand in his assuringly with a victorious smile like he’d known all along that this would’ve happened. you choked back a sob of your own, “thank you! thank you so much.”

“we’ve never known that soulmates existed, but now that we do know, there isn’t a truer pair than you and y/n,” she addressed jaemin, “treat her well.”

“i swear, mother, you love her more than you love me,” jaemin half-groaned, ignoring his mother’s angelic smile and reply (“i do not! i merely prefer to be around her.”)

“to the new king and couple!” jaemin’s father raised his goblet for another cheer, and you downed your drink in one gulp. tilting your head to grin at jaemin, you thought there really couldn’t be any happier moment in the world.

©danishmiilk, 2020. ©astroboy-lele, 2020.

#kdinerdanceoff20 #neowritingsnet #nct-writers #jaemin fluff #jaemin angst #jaemin imagines #jaemin scenarios #jaemin x reader #nct x reader #nct fluff #nct angst #nct imagines #nct scenarios #nct dream x reader #nct dream #nct #na jaemin #jaemin

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ibijau · 3 years

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on AO3

Beta Nie Huaisang goes to check on omega Lan Xichen, since his lover hasn't gotten in touch in a few weeks. When he finds Lan Xichen nesting, he can only conclude that the child isn't his.

It had been a while since Nie Huaisang had last seen Lan Xichen, and longer still since he had come to the Cloud Recesses. Usually, for everyone’s convenience, it was simpler for the two of them to meet in the Unclean Realm, where people knew to mind their own business, and where Nie Huaisang’s failings as a sect leader gave them a good excuse to spend time together.

It had been over two months since they’d last met. In all that time, Lan Xichen had only written once, and about sect business too, so it hardly counted at all. And so Nie Huaisang, who was in the area for some other dealings of his, had decided that it would probably be fine to drop by and check on the omega.

The men watching the gate did not bat an eye upon seeing him, since it wasn’t so unusual for him to come unannounced, but one evasively warned him that Lan Xichen might be busy. That wasn’t a problem of course. Nie Huaisang had a permanent invitation to make himself at home in the Hanshi for those times Lan Xichen wasn’t free to deal with him right away.

So like always he headed right for the Hanshi, already wondering what tea he’d make for himself while Lan Xichen dealt with his own business. Only when he entered the Hanshi, Nie Huaisang was struck by an unexpected sight.

The Hanshi, usually so neat and tidy that one could have eaten off the floor, was an absolute mess . There were fabrics everywhere in all shades of white and blue as well as the occasional dash of green, plus a great number of cushions of many sizes that Lan Xichen was organising in some manner that must have made sense to him.

Nie Huaisang gaped at the sight.

Lan Xichen was nesting.

There was no other explanation. Although Nie Huaisang was a beta, as a sect leader he’d had to deal with that sort of things before. People were always surprised to hear about it, but Qinghe Nie was very welcoming to omega disciples, and of course alphas had to deal with their spouses. A whole portion of the sect’s budget was dedicated to this sort of things, just because Nie Huaisang had found that it spelled trouble to have a frustrated omega failing to build their nest exactly as they envisioned it. In fact, although he complained about the waste of money, Nie Huaisang found the process somewhat fascinating, and he’d always been happy to give his opinion whenever asked for it.

This nest, though, was instantly hateful to him.

It wasn’t as though Lan Xichen and him had made any clear promises to each other. They liked to fool around when they could, but being a beta he couldn’t mark the omega, and would have been unlikely to ever impregnate him. That was the whole reason why Lan Xichen allowed himself such liberties with Nie Huaisang: it was a safe way to scratch that itch without ruining his prospects for a proper match when the time came.

Still, even without promises, Nie Huaisang had thought they had a certain understanding. He had never taken other lovers since falling in bed with Lan Xichen, and not just because he was too busy for it. Compared to the esteemed Zewu-Jun, everyone else felt boring, no matter if they were alphas, omegas, or betas. But Nie Huaisang himself, by comparison… well, if Lan Xichen had found himself a proper mate, an alpha, he couldn’t be blamed for it of course.

Busy with the delicate task of constructing his nest, Lan Xichen didn’t realise that he had company until Nie Huaisang closed the door behind himself, a little more forcefully than he should have.

He hated the way Lan Xichen’s face illuminated upon seeing him, so pretty like this, kneeling in the middle of his half built nest.

“A-Sang!” he exclaimed,. “I was just about to write to you, as soon as I finished with this.”

He gestured at the mess around him, and Nie Huaisang couldn’t help a disdainful scoff.

“I think I’d have waited a long while before seeing that letter then,” he remarked. “Congratulations are in order it seems. And I suppose I’d better leave you to it, you seem very busy.”

“Nonsense, you simply have to help me,” Lan Xichen protested, picking up an embroidered cushion and looking around for the best place to put it. “I’m not too good at this, but you’ve said you’ve helped with that sort of things before, right? I need your expertise, A-Sang.”

If Nie Huaisang had been a reasonable person, if he’d had a little more pride, he would have left immediately. Hearing himself still being called A-Sang after this hurt too much, as did Lan Xichen’s casual attitude, as if he truly didn’t realise that it might pain Nie Huaisang to discover in such a brutal manner that he had been replaced. Above all, no self-respecting person should have had to help their lover help prepare a nest for someone else’s child.

But apparently, Lan Xichen really saw no wrong with that. Nie Huaisang, kindly, decided to blame it on nesting frenzy rather than on the omega’s tendency to close his eyes to anything he didn’t like thinking about.

Lan Xichen was the only person that Nie Huaisang could have allowed to be so cruel to him without hating him. His one weakness, now and always. So instead of leaving, he quickly untied his shoes and came to join Lan Xichen in the middle of his nest.

“Hold this,” Lan Xichen ordered when Nie Huaisang knelt next to him, handing him some delicate furs, a present from Nie Huaisang himself some years before. “And this, and…”

“Quite the luxurious nest you’re building here,” Nie Huaisang remarked as he started laying the furs and fabrics around so they would be both elegant to look at and comfortable to lay on. “Is that even allowed by your sect’s rules?”

“It’s my nest, I get to decide how I want it,” Lan Xichen replied in a playful tone. “For once in my life, nobody has the right to tell me how to do this. I will take full advantage of it.”

“Hm. And what about whoever sired your child? Don’t they also get a say? Maybe they’ll think this is too ostentatious.”

For some reason, that remark made Lan Xichen laugh. Nie Huaisang found himself increasingly curious as to the identity of whatever alpha had gotten his friend with child. It couldn’t be another Lan, or else Lan Xichen would not actually allow himself to be so extravagant. A Jin then? He really didn’t like the idea that it might be a Jin, because there was only one of them close enough to Lan Xichen for this to happen, and if Jin Guangyao had dared to touch the omega…

“He won’t mind,” Lan Xichen claimed with laughter still in his voice, before grabbing Nie Huaisang to kiss him.

Again, Nie Huaisang thought of protesting on account of his pride.

But what was the value of that pride when Lan Xichen's lips were on his, tender and demanding, when the omega's arms were wrapped around his waist to pull him closer.

Nie Huaisang had sacrificed his pride for less pleasant purposes before. He didn't mind doing it again, for one last tryst with the man he shouldn't have loved.

One of Nie Huaisang's hands grabbed the back of Lan Xichen's neck. This made him gasp, and gave Nie Huaisang the chance to deepen the kiss, licking into that willing mouth. Then, with his free hand he started pulling on the ties of Lan Xichen's clothes, eager to undress his lover.

Under layers and layers of pale silk, delicate skin became revealed. Nie Huaisang's fingers lazily danced over his lover's collarbone, over a firm chest, taking a moment to play with a nipple, just for the joy of seeing Lan Xichen's lips part for a soft gasp. His chest was still all muscle, but it would probably soon start to soften and prepare for the child’s arrival. The thought sent heat coursing through Nie Huaisang’s groin, for which he cursed himself. By the time such changes started appearing, everything would be over between them, Lan Xichen would certainly have married whatever lucky idiot had managed to breed him.

Enraged by that idea, Nie Huaisang tore off the rest of the omega’s robes, letting precious silk pool around them and adding to the mess of the half built nest. When Lan Xichen was left in nothing but pants, Nie Huaisang roughly pushed him down against the nearest pile of pillows.

Lan Xichen went down willingly, though could have resisted if he wanted. He was the stronger between them, and by far, but when they were alone he liked to pretend Nie Huaisang could push him around, to play the part of a delicate and submissive omega. Another game between them, another thing they didn’t talk about, and Nie Huaisang to this day didn't know if Lan Xichen did it for his own pleasure, or out of pity for his weak lover.

It had to be at least partly for pleasure, with the way Lan Xichen gasped when Nie Huaisang, having pulled down his pants pushed a finger into him to find him slick with arousal already.

“Zewu-Jun, how shameful of you to get in such a state while nesting,” Nie Huaisang teased, pressing in a second finger already, while his other hand pressed on Lan Xichen' s shoulder, pinning him against the side of his nest.

Lan Xichen writhed weakly, as if trying to escape but unable to.

“A-Sang don’t, ah, don’t call me that,” he complained, gasping when his lover’s fingers found the right places to tease. “It’s not…”

“Then what should I call you?” Nie Huaisang asked, trying to keep his tone casual even as he added another finger. “Er-ge? Lan-gege? Xichen-ge? A-Huan, perhaps?”

Lan Xichen, whose eyes had closed upon that most welcome assault, opened them again and whined at that last suggestion. Even though they had been doing this for some years now, Nie Huaisang had never really dared to use his lover’s personal name, fearing it would have been too intimate for the sort of relationship they had. Now though, if he was to lose all this, there was little point in not taking everything he could before it was over.

“You’re so wet, A-Huan,” he accused, removing his fingers from his lover’s hole and carelessly wiping them against the side of his naked thigh. “Isn’t it against your sect’s rules to be unrestrained?”

Lan Xichen pouted at feeling himself empty again, and shivered at Nie Huaisang’s words. As if suddenly remembering something, he quickly sat up in spite of the hand pushing down on his chest, proving that Nie Huaisang was only in control because it was granted to him. Nie Huaisang found it a more potent aphrodisiac than actually having the strength to subdue his lover could have been. He then saw Lan Xichen quickly reach behind his head, saw the white embroidered ribbon he wore be loosened and slide down, saw his lover smile at him with that spark of mischief Lan Xichen only ever showed when they were alone together.

“There, now I’m allowed to be unrestrained,” Lan Xichen said after dropping the ribbon out of the way and carefully laying down on the side of his nest again. “Let’s make the best of this, A-Sang.”

He opened his legs a little wider, shamelessly inviting Nie Huaisang to come enjoy his body. Nie Huaisang, in turn, pretended to ignore him and started undressing himself, taking care to fold everything neatly so it wouldn’t get lost in the luxurious mess of that nest around them. Lan Xichen observed him with hunger at first, which quickly turned to frustration.

“You’re teasing me,” he accused with a slight whine to his voice that made Nie Huaisang want to devour him.

“I’m just trying to be respectful,” Nie Huaisang retorted while fighting with his pants, the last item of clothing on him. “I believe your sect has a rule against undue haste, and against being careless with one’s possessions.”

“Then stop being careless with me,” Lan Xichen ordered.

Nie Huaisang froze, unsure whether to cry or laugh. Once again, he was stunned by how innocently cruel his lover was that day. He really should have put an end to this joke and gone home, leaving Lan Xichen to go get fucked by whatever alpha he’d found himself.

He should have.

He couldn’t.

Instead, Nie Huaisang quickly finished undressing, dropping his pants to the side without even pretending to fold them this time, and came to kneel between Lan Xichen’s legs. The omega smiled up at him, so radiant it hurt.

Without thinking, Nie Huaisang’s hand trailed down his lover’s chest, coming to rest on his stomach. Nothing was showing yet, not even the first signs of softness, though when he probed using spiritual energy, he definitely felt there was something there, a presence too small to have reached consciousness yet.

The pregnancy wasn’t very far along, three months perhaps, which would place its start rather close to the last time Nie Huaisang and Lan Xichen had been together. That would fit, of course. Last time, Lan Xichen had needed to leave the Unclean Realm in something of a hurry when his heat had surprised him, forcing him to rush home before it overcame him completely… or so Nie Huaisang had thought at the time.

Back then, he’d been disappointed that they’d barely managed to fool around at all. He’d been disappointed at himself, also, for still not finding the courage to ask Lan Xichen to stay, heat or not. With himself a beta there was so little risk of unwanted consequences, while surely it would have been more comfortable for Lan Xichen to go through this with a partner for once…

As it turned out, Lan Xichen hadn’t faced the discomfort of his heat alone. He just hadn’t wanted to spend it with Nie Huaisang either.

Suddenly, Nie Huaisang grabbed Lan Xichen's arm, forcing him to turn around. Lan Xichen willingly obeyed and got on his hands and knees, a spark of excitement in his eyes. He gasped when Nie Huaisang pressed into him faster than he normally did. But then, normally he wasn't so angry at the man he…

The man he didn't want to love, Nie Huaisang thought as he started moving without giving the omega time to adjust. The man he shouldn't have loved. The man who he should have known he'd never get to keep.

“A-Sang, be gentle,” Lan Xichen begged, before moaning when Nie Huaisang, instead, fucked him harder.

The beta soon fell into a punishing rhythm, skin slapping against skin. The only sounds leaving Nie Huaisang’s mouth were grunts, while Lan Xichen alternated between begging to be treated gently or more roughly, as if unable to make up his mind.

When Lan Xichen's pleasure cries became louder, his body tighter, Nie Huaisang found it in him to fuck even harder into that too willing body, until at last Lan Xichen tensed under him, coming undone with a silent gasp. Nie Huaisang kept going, enjoying that slick tightness for a few thrusts more until he felt he could hold on no longer.

Pressing inside as far as he could go, Nie Huaisang bent down and bit as hard as he could onto Lan Xichen while spilling his seed.

It was a vain effort, of course. Still, when Nie Huaisang’s senses returned to him and he saw the imprint of his teeth on the side of Lan Xichen's neck, almost deep enough to have broken the skin, he felt a twisted satisfaction. The mark would fade in a few days, a few hours even if Lan Xichen expended some energy to get rid of it. But now Nie Huaisang knew what the man he didn't want to love would have looked, had he been able to mark him and keep him.

A memory he would surely cherish in the future, when nothing else remained.

Nie Huaisang pulled out and sat up on his haunches, the better to look at Lan Xichen lying under him, beautiful in his contentment, pale skin decorated by the first signs of future bruises. If he hadn't just come, the sight of such perfection on display for him would have made him hard. Even like that he felt some new desire run through him.

Lan Xichen cracked open one eye. He smiled, turned around to rest his back against the now crumbling side of his nest, and opened his arms in a silent invitation. One that Nie Huaisang should have refused, the same as he should have refused all the rest. One he took, as he had taken all the rest.

It was comfortable to lay like this, his head on Lan Xichen's chest, cuddled against one side of that hateful nest. Nie Huaisang could have fallen asleep like this, sated and warm, with Lan Xichen's long fingers lazily tracing senseless patterns on his back.

Life didn't get better than this, and Nie Huaisang was selfish enough to take what wasn't his to enjoy.

"I was thinking what we should do, since both our sects need an heir," Lan Xichen said, just as Nie Huaisang was abput to fall asleep. "If it's a girl, let's raise it like a Nie. Your sect is more reasonable about letting women rule, so it'd be… you don't like that?"

Nie Huaisang shook his head, his body suddenly so tense he could barely breathe, let alone speak.

That child was his?

He would have assumed… betas weren't very fertile, and everyone said they had better chances of conceiving with a woman of any sort than a male omega. Nie Huaisang had made his peace with that, knowing he and Lan Xichen wouldn't… That there would only ever be a very low chance of...

But a low chance was still a chance.

"It's fine if you'd rather see a boy inherit Qinghe Nie as well," Lan Xichen said, his hand turned soothing on Nie Huaisang's back. "In that case if it's a girl, we'll get to spoil her."

"I don't mind seeing our daughter rule the Unclean Realm," Nie Huaisang weakly replied, still terrified he'd misunderstood somehow, that Lan Xichen had just been carelessly cruel again, that…

But Lan Xichen kissed the top of his head with affection, and took to running his fingers through Nie Huaisang’s hair.

"We'll see when the baby is there," Lan Xichen concluded. "I… you want this too, don't you?" he asked, suddenly sounding worried. "We never really spoke about… if you don't want to be involved, I'll… of course I won't force you. I can raise it alone if you're not interested."

Nie Huaisang rose on his elbows to look at the man he loved, who carried his child, and was shocked to find Lan Xichen looking truly worried. As if there were anyone in the world who wouldn't give everything to be in Nie Huaisang’s place. As if Nie Huaisang himself hadn't been ready to sacrifice any dignity he had left for what he thought were scraps of Lan Xichen’s attention.

"We're raising our child together," Nie Huaisang firmly stated. "I'll claim it if you let me, I'll marry you if you let me. Anything you want from me, just ask and it's yours."

Lan Xichen smiled brightly at him, happy beyond words. Nie Huaisang found it in him to smile back.

He would just have to get Mo Xuanyu to hurry up with that ritual, so that Jin Guangyao could be taken care of before the birth.

#xisang #nie huaisang #lan xichen #mo dao zu shi #mdzs #jau writes #for context I started writing this in october 2020 #I am not very good at sexy stuff ok

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yannowhatigiveup · 3 years

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My One And Only - Chapter 9

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So this chapter is longer than chapter 8 and I think from next chapter, they got longer. As we get closer to the chapter I’m currently writing, the frequent updates will unfortunately die. Just letting you know so you won’t be too disappointed! Oh and my Wattpad name is the same, ‘yannowhatigiveup’. If you know any way I can improve my writing please do tell me!

Gabriel Agreste stood in his observatory after recently detransforming. 'She can control her emotions well but when she's angry, it's incredibly strong. This girl could be one of the strongest in Paris, she could be one that senses auras. I must find a way. I will use her to eliminate all of heroes. All I need is time'.

————————————————————

The bluenette sat in her uncle Jagged's hotel room, tapping a pen against her lips while watching the conversation, well it was more like an argument, between Jagged and his manager Bob Roth. Bob was stating that they should leave the song writing to the professionals while Jagged protested, saying that his niece was overflowing with talent and that she could do it no problem. Penny was on the phone with someone but Marinette didn't eavesdrop in her conversation. She stated at the blank notebook in front of her, eyeing it suspiciously. Then she got an idea and began scribbling down the lyrics she had in mind, not knowing that she had unintentionally gained the attention of everyone in the room. She managed to write the whole song in one sitting which was very impressive even for professional song writers at the time. "Did it" she said putting the pen down. Penny then came over to take the notebook and read what the bluenette had written. 'I hope it's ok'

"Wow Mari, this is great!" Penny said her mouth agape. She passed it to Jagged but Bob had snatched it out of his hands, only to give it back when Fang looked at him hungrily.

"Yeah, this is rock'n roll Nettie!" He praised her while giving his manager a 'I told you so' look.

"Yes this is exactly what we needed, a little change in the album. Thank you for this Marinette. We shall produce the song while you can sing the lyrics-"

"If that's alright will you of course" Jagged said, interrupting his manager.

Marinette nodded hesitantly. "I can give it a shot" she murmured.

Marinette walked home after visiting Jagged and showing Damian the designs she had in plan for his brothers, without showing the design she made for him. She was careful not to shake her purse too much as Tikki was sleeping, it was a busy day for the kwami as Marinette had let her go visit Plagg for some 'Kwami business'. Marinette didn't press for answers though. Soon she entered her parents bakery to find them already there, waiting for her.

"Maman, Papa what is it?" She asked.

"Your father and I are discussing if we should open a second bakery" Sabine answered enthusiastically.

"There's a few spots available in Marseille, we already booked a flight and a hotel to stay at" Tom answered, maybe even more excited than his wife.

"That's great! But isn't Marseille far away? It's closer to Italy than Paris" Marinette answered.

"Well surprisingly, we're already well known there" Tom replied.

"Oh cool! When will you be leaving?"

"On Saturday at 2 am" Her mother replied. "It's late but it was the next available flight. We'll be gone for a week maybe longer depending on all the paper work"

"Well you better start packing then!" Marinette said happy for both her parents. "I'll be going to bed now. Good night!" She hugged both her parents before going upstairs to change and finishing up her designs.

~~~

Adrien sat in front of his computer early before school, looking through all of Kagami's recent posts and he liked the photo that she posted yesterday, the photo was of when they went for ice cream earlier today. Alya and Nino were also in the picture, smiling for the camera but Adrien noticed someone else in the background. 'Marinette...' She was eating her ice cream, unbeknownst to the picture being taken, with the spoon still in her mouth. Adrien felt distracted by the way the sun reflected off her hair. He loved Kagami truly but his new love for Marinette shadowed it. "Plagg" Adrien said. "I think I have a thing for bluenettes".

"So your type is blue-haired girls? What makes you say that?" The kwami replied, not really enjoying the conversation.

"Well I like Ladybug, Kagami and Marinette and they all have one thing in common. They all have blue hair" Adrien sighed. "The last thing I need is another blue-haired girl to come into my life"

"Ughhh this is too cheesy, I much prefer actual cheese" Plagg groaned while looking around for Camembert.

Adrien sighed, smiling while going back to think of the girls he liked. He liked Ladybug for her quick, sly and smart nature. Kagami was incredibly skilled and very easy to relate to. And Marinette had a kind personality as well as unmatchable beauty. He couldn't decide which one he liked most as all the options were as great as the others. Then a notification on his computer distracted him from his thoughts. It was a notification that Jagged Stone had posted something. 'Huh, I wonder what it could be'

~~~

Jason was flicking through the channels on the TV, looking for something interesting to watch when a notification appeared on his phone. 'What's this?' He then realised that it was a trending post from Jagged Stone and went to view it. "HOLY SH-"

"Master Jason, language"Alfred reminded him.

"Oh yeah sorry" he whispered before shouting again. "HOLY MOTHER OF UM SOMETHING!"

Dick and Tim then entered the room, wondering what Jason was talking about. "What?" Dick asked.

Jason then connected his phone to the TV and showed the post he was talking about.

@official_jaggedstone

(Photo of a blue-haired girl with a medium long braid and her back facing the camera, writing on something)

Wonder what MDC is writing up for the bonus track? 🤔🤔🤔🤔

All three of the boys then fanboyed over finally being able to see what their favourite designer, and idol, looked like. Alfred then sighed while exiting the room.

"She's pretty!"

"She looks smart!"

"What's she writing?"

"I'm gonna call Damian, that room looks similar to the room he's staying in"

"Yes do, I want to pester him"

Dick then dialed a number on his phone. After a few rings, the phone finally answered.

"Tt, Yes?" A stern voice came through on the other side.

"HAVE YOU SEEN JAGGED'S RECENT POST!?" Tim shouted into the microphone.

~~~

Damian had already seen Jagged's post, he smiled to himself. He was about to go back to reading his book when his phone rang. He would've picked it up straight away if he hadn't see the name, it was Dick. He let the phone ring for a little while before answering.

"Tt, Yes?" He said in a stern voice.

"HAVE YOU SEEN JAGGED'S RECENT POST!?" Luckily Damian had the phone further away from his ear otherwise Tim would've exploded his eardrums.

"What about it?"

"He posted an image of MDC, the very first one ever on the internet!" Dick answered excitedly. "There aren't any pictures of her anywhere".

Damian smiled to himself knowing that he had seen MDC before his brothers, he had seen her smile. "There aren't?"

"Yeah! Weird right? She doesn't even show up to Jagged's live performances!" It was Jason's turn to speak now.

"Well I'm sure she goes to the performances, she's just never seen" Tim told his brother in a matter-of-fact way.

Damian rolled his eyes. "Tt, bye now" he said, immediately turning his phone off not allowing any of his brothers to protest. He then texted Marinette.

Me: Just got off the phone with my brothers, they were fanboying over you.

Surprisingly Marinette replied straight away.

Angel: They are too? Everyone is fangirling over MDC

Me: Because of Jagged's post, he posted a picture of you. The back of your head specifically

Angel: Oh hah I see it now, I guess that has to be my signature hairstyle as MDC now.

Me: It looks great on you though

Angel: You really think so?

Me: Mhm

Angel: Aw, thanks

~~~

Marinette had blushed when Damian said she looked good in that hairstyle. She really liked him. Then Marinette looked at the time, she was early for once. She decided to make use of this and get ready for school. She had finished getting ready quickly and she was able to walk instead of run to school like she usually did. When she entered, she noticed that there was barely anyone here. 'Perfect! I can work on my designs' that was until a familiar face showed up.

"Hey girl! You're here early wow!" The sound of her best friend made Marinette laugh until her facial expression changed from surprised to smug. Marinette was about to ask but Alya had brought her to the locker room where they were alone. "So girl, spill"

"What?"

"Do you like Chat Noir?"

Marinette giggled but she saw her best friend's face. "Oh you're not joking"

"Nope, now you can tell me so that I can get you both on a date." She blushed profusely. "And I ain't backing down, I've spent too much time on trying to find out who he is. Don't think I haven't noticed how you're jumping at anytime to be with this boy." She said the last statement with a soft voice.

Marinette sighed, grateful of her best friend but hesitant to tell her without Damian's permission as he never seemed like one for social interaction. "I'll ask" she said while taking her phone out.

Me: Shaytan, my best friend found out that I've been sneaking off to go see you.

Shaytan: Césaire?

Me: Yeah

Shaytan: You said she wanted to be a reporter right? Well then I guess this is expected, she did a good job.

Me: So should I tell her your name?

Shaytan: That's up to you

Me: Ok thanks!

Marinette put her phone away and looked at her best friend.

"So?" Alya asked. "Can you tell me?"

Marinette nodded. "So um, his name is D-Damian"

———

Taglist: @little-bluestar, @miracleofadisaster, @frieddonutsweets, @jjmjjktth, @genderfluidmoma, @starlit-dreaming, @icerosecrystal

#daminette #damian x marinette #marinette x damian #maribat #mlb x dc #ml x dc

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elderbwrry · 3 years

Text

Girls' Night

tags: the knights of ren, All Women Knights of Ren, Girl's night, Girl's Knight, haha please like me, Fluff and Humor, Adversarial Kylux, Very much a WIP, Kylux, although fair warning it might not be that relationshippy

Read it on ao3

Summary: Hux is surprised by what the Knights of Ren get up to in their free time - it's strangely humanising. Unfortunately, Ren is still being the Lord of all Assholes. Hux needs a way to get back at him. It gives him an idea.

Hux marched down the corridor in the Finalizer's quarters deck, the section dedicated to command personnel. The immaculately tiled and polished floors glinted as he whipped past them. He was walking a little faster than usual, he noticed with distaste, but it wasn't surprising; this was his last task before he could officially count his shift as “over” and, instead of standing stiffly on the bridge checking reports, he could settle down to checking them in the comfort of his quarters. His sofa beckoned, along with another three hours of beloved admin, then five necessary hours of sleep before his next shift.

Moments ticked by as he had to pause and wait for a security door to open, and he felt his frustration manifesting itself in his brow. He was currently delaying himself by heading approximately six minutes out of the way of his own quarters, all to give Ren little more than a telling off. This wasn't the first time the glorified poser had caused him this kind of issue – trust Ren to get in the way, he excelled at it – but it was the first time Hux was personally carrying the message round to his quarters that he needed to file a report for the mission he returned from over a week ago.

Hux had tried the usual ways of getting hold of Ren; on his return to the ship, Hux had informed him a report was due; an automated reminder had been sent; a follow-up reminder had been sent; Hux sent a reminder himself. Today, when his agenda noted that Ren still remained unresponsive, Hux hailed him over internal comms. No reply. He called Mitaka in, intending to send him to Ren's quarters, but the poor man had paled at the knight's very name. So, Hux had dismissed him, and undertaken to deliver the message himself.

Hux didn't bother to wonder the reason why Ren wasn't completing the report – undoubtedly it was because he was irresponsible, disrespectful, possibly illiterate – he only amused himself to wonder what foolish excuse would be employed this time. “Meditation,” Hux's mind supplied in a mocking approximation of Ren's voice without that ostentatious helmet, “important Force matters,” “training,” “I was just really tired and forgot :(”

He was just shaking his head disapprovingly at the imagined pout as he drew up outside the door itself. He pressed the button to request entry, pushing it harder than necessary until his thumb joint hurt, as if somehow that would convey through the automated, equalized buzz sound how annoyed he was with Ren taking up his time like this.

The door puffed open, and Hux's mouth was already opened to give Ren a piece of his mind when he realised that the person in front of him was not, in fact, Ren. Instead, stood before him was a woman nearly a head shorter than himself, her long, black hair piled on her head in a decidedly non-regulation messy bun, drawn away from her face, on which was slathered some kind of light pink paste. She was wrapped in a fluffy, pink dressing gown, under which appeared to be heart patterned pink pyjamas.

Hux's planned rebuke of Ren fell away into an, “Uh.” Usually, he had time to prepare himself for any kind of non-work-related interactions, but he had planned to go into this with a clipped, righteous annoyance and come out of it with a self-indulgent bit of riling Ren up, and now that Ren was not available for that, he had nothing.

“Yes?” she said, about as neutrally as Hux supposed anyone would, when called upon while attired as she was.

“I must have the wrong quarters,” was what he managed to reply.

“These aren't mine,” she explained, pointing behind her, around a corner which Hux couldn't see, “You looking for Kylo?”

“Yes,” Hux said stiffly, “is Ren here?”

The woman leaned back inside the door, around the corner Hux still couldn't see. “Kyle!” she called, “visitor.”

“He's not getting up, wet nails!” someone called back, another female sounding voice.

Just what was happening in there? How many women were there, and what were they doing in Ren's quarters, of all places, clad in such unofficial wear? Hux shuddered to think. Was he also going to have to remind Ren of the rules against fraternisation with inferior officers? That was sure to be a fun conversation of Ren not giving a kriff and Hux being able to do little but barb his words and maybe mention the situation to Snoke. Odd, though – Hux had never thought Ren had showed any preference for women... or perhaps that had just been wishful thinking.

The woman before him remained still for a moment, her brown eyes glazing over just slightly in a way which made Hux think she wasn't entirely mentally present. Then the look was gone as soon as it had come, and she frowned, annoyed. “He wants you to leave,” she informed him, “but he wasn't very nice about it, so you're coming in.” She turned and retreated back inside, beckoning casually for him to follow.

After a moment, once Hux's brain had caught up – Ren had just communicated with the woman through the Force, and now he was being invited in against those wishes. He slipped through the door, letting it puff closed behind him.

The first fact of the place was that Ren's quarters were larger than Hux's. Hux had known this, of course – he'd scoffed over the confirmation for the allocation when Ren had first transferred over, perfectly happy to take moderately sized quarters himself – but, as he walked down the grandly inlaid corridor from the entrance antechamber to what was presumably a living space, it contributed to the sense of an impending mystery as to what, exactly, he was about to discover. He hoped it was nothing too debauched.

“You're that General, aren't you?” the woman a step in front of him asked over her shoulder. “Hanks? Hugs?”

“Hux,” he corrected. He disliked intensely when people got his name wrong. He was the General of the ship they were all currently hurtling through space on, he was the General Starkiller – how could she not know who he was? “Who are you?”

“Ushar,” she replied easily. No rank, no designation of any sort, no actual deference to him as a General; all things Hux made a mental note of for later, when he could check the ship manifest.

“Might I ask what you're...”

Hux had begun to speak with an acerbic self-confidence – it was his ship, and he demanded to know what was happening on it – but it all became clear when Ushar opened the door to the central living area and the situation was revealed. It was the second time Hux had been caused to falter in his words in the last five minutes, and he didn't appreciate it. “What is this?” he asked, minorly horrified, as he took in the scene before him.

Ushar shrugged. “Girls' night.”

The room looked like some kind of stereotypical, tacky imitation of a Zeltronian spa had taken over. There were tall glasses of something bubbly scattered around, half-drunk, the bottle chilling in a bucket of ice on the coffee table, which was scattered with cosmetic items. A holo-romance was playing off to the side. Boxes of chocolates fountained forth crunched up wrappers. There were four women – two humans, a zabrak and a twi'lek – lounging around in the pit of cushions the room had been turned into. The cushions were allpink to match the identical pink bath robes and headbands and fluffy slippers the room's inhabitants were sporting. And, at the centre of it all; Ren.

“You...” Hux started, under his breath just enough that no-one would take notice of the stammering. He had certainly not expected this. “I...”

Ren, clad too in pink fluffy bath robe, seemingly with nothingunder it this time, finally took notice that Ushar had led Hux in, as he sat up quickly and angrily, removing slices of some green vegetable from over his eyes. The woman who had been painting his toenails – black, possibly the only thing that could reconcile the Ren Hux was used to with this strange, pink perversion before him – protested, but he ignored her, instead hurrying to his feet and wading his way out of the pillows.

“I told you to make him leave,” Ren growled at Ushar, but the effect was considerably diminished thanks to his appearance. The bathrobe he wore was the short, fun kind of style which only came to his knees; the pink headband kept all his hair back from his face gave him a kooky sort of bird's nest; his face was slathered with a light green version of what Ushar had on, all except for comical spaces around his eyes and lips.

Ushar glared at him. “You shouldn't have ordered me like that, then,” she said, going over to sit next to the zabraki woman, shuffling in closer than was strictly platonic and picking up one of the glasses. “I'm not some stormtrooper.”

“You're ruining the night,” Ren brandished the vegetable slice at her. It wobbled.

“You'reruining the night!” the woman Ushar was sat next to shot back. “He's here after you!”

“Yeah, Kyle,” the twi'lek said from the sofa in a tone that was very much mocking, but still friendly, popping a chocolate in her mouth. Who were these people, that they could speak to Kylo Ren like this and get away with it?

Ren turned back to Hux, glowering. The face paste made him look like a clown. The outside finally reflects the inside, Hux thought to himself while wondering if Ren had waxed his legs or if they were just like that naturally, and had to force himself not to laugh. He obviously didn't mask his expressions quite as well as he should have, however, because Ren seemed to sense that Hux was amusing himself at his expense. Seizing Hux's upper arm in a grip to rival that of a hangar-bay droid, Ren manhandled Hux back to the door of the room, away from the group.

“Unhand me, you oaf,” Hux admonished, shaking Ren off him and lowering his tone a little so as not to disturb the ladies, who, in their disregard of Ren's plumped-up edginess, had endeared themselves to him.

“Why are you here?” Ren demanded before he'd even finished speaking, also at subdued pitch.

“Why are you here?” Hux returned, hissingly. “Who are these people? Why are you not completing the mission report which you have had no fewer than five requests for? Why the hells are your quarters this gods-awful colour?”

Ren took a moment to glare at Hux.

Hux interpreted this as having the upper hand. “Well?”

“I'm not completing any more of your stupid kriffing reports,” he said as if it were obvious. “I told you that already.”

Hux cycled through his memory quickly. He remembered Ren slamming down the last report onto his desk and threatening something similar, but he'd disregarded it, because reports were Necessary, and it was not a possibility for anyone to simply not do them.

“You will do the report,” Hux replied.

“No.”

“You'll do it now.”

Ren snorted. “No.”

Hux bristled. “Ren, I have been forced to come down here – well out of my way – to extract this report from you, only to find you sitting around like some... pampered princess, when I could be-”

“Good point actually, let's return to it. What are you doing down here?” Ren frowned and crossed his arms, but his lips curled cruelly, ready, Hux was sure, to make some insult about his doing such menial work.

“That brings me to the next matter,” Hux plucked the opportunity of throwing in this additional argument, squaring up. “You have intimidated my administrative staff to the point where it is necessary that I waste my time in a way which is thoroughly unacceptable to me.”

Ren widened his eyes in mock sympathy. “Did you forget how to use a comm?”

This only pissed Hux off more, because something about the movement was ridiculously attractive. He wasn't sure whether it was the slight shrug which emphasised Ren's muscular arms, the fact that the pink really brought out the rich shade of his hair, or even the cruelty behind the act itself, but it could not stand.

“I'm quite familiar with the comms system,” he spat, “it seems that you are the one having trouble, since you failed to reply to my hails. As my co-commander,” (Hux had practised in his bathroom mirror not grimacing as he said this) “you are expected to answer your comms when I call. It is highly unprofessional of you to shirk your duty like this.”

Ren momentarily pursed his lips. His next words were caustic. “I don't intend to waste my life away at work like you do, slaving over a tablet until I look like the living dead. At least I know how to relax.”

Hux's eye twitched. “I know how to relax.” An imagined image of himself on his icy blue sofa in his black and red robe, his cat to one side, his data-pad in hand, appeared in his mind. That was relaxing.

“No you don't,” Ren scoffed. “You should see the bags under your eyes. You look more drawn out than all the Starkiller blueprints put together.”

Mentally, Hux's self-image adjusted so that his porcelain skin turned grey, the lines of his face more prominent, the room dark until only he was visible by the harsh light of the data-pad. It could not have been more different than his current surroundings of pink and fluffiness and companionship and soft lighting.

“Get out of my head, Ren,” he said, putting the warping of his imagined scene down to some Force meddling.

“I'm not in your head,” Ren replied, “you're just sad and lonely and jealous that you have to go do a report while I have a nice night with my knights – my friends. You,” he pointed sassily, “could never have this,” he pointed back to the ladies. “Now kriff off, I'm not doing the report. Maybe you should do it yourself, since you have such a boner for that kind of thing.” The door far behind Hux puffed open, presumably manipulated by the Force.

“I expect the report before the end of my shift tomorrow,” Hux said, voice dangerous and low. How dare Ren speak to him like that. How dare he judge what Hux did to relax, while he was being a layabout with these random, cool ladies... doing... fun things like... painting nails and getting tipsy... and watching holo-dramas... and... he wasn't jealous.

“Leave,” Kylo told him.

Hux narrowed his eyes. “You will regret this, Ren.” He turned on his heel and marched from the room, commenting to himself once more as the door puffed closed behind him, “You will regret this.”

[line break]

Kylo watched Hux retreat from the room, waiting until the door had closed to turn and make his way back to his knights. He flopped himself back down onto the floor, jostling Ap'lek's sofa cushions in the process.

“Ah kriff,” he complained as he saw his black-smudged toes stretched out in front of him, “he made me ruin my nail paint.”

“I'm not doing them again,” Trudgen said, tossing the little black bottle at him, shifting around to watch the holo and grabbing a chocolate. “You shoulda been more careful when you got up instead of rushing off to be a bitch.”

Kylo sighed over-dramatically and called out, “Cardo!” She and Kuruk were in the kitchen, probably making an unsightly mess of the place, but Kylo knew only she would be willing to finish the paint for him. Of course, he would have to take the chance that the stuff would end up even more smudged than it already was, and, now he was thinking about it, he would probably be better off just dipping his entire feet in nail polish.

A chocolate wrapper hit the side of his head. He turned to see Ushar had thrown it. “Just do it yourself,” she told him, “it's not like it's hard.”

But he wanted to feel spoiled, that was the whole point of this spa evening anyway. He called Cardo's name again, whinier this time.

“What?!” came the shouted reply, “We're making mug muffins!”

Vicrul frowned, straightening up a little where her arm was thrown around Ushar's shoulders. “In the microwave?”

“Yeah!”

“Huh,” Vicrul shrugged, settling back down again. “Good luck cleaning that.”

Kylo groaned, letting his head fall back onto the sofa cushion behind him. First Hux was on him about a report, then none of his knights would do his nails for him, now Cardo was splattering his lovely microwave with chocolate batter. This was all Hux's fault. Kylo wasn't sure how yet, but it was.

He opened his eyes to see Ap'lek looking down at him, where his head rested by her left elbow. “What's this about a report then?” she asked flatly. Kylo just groaned again and re-closed his eyes.

“You can't be procrastinating this stuff again,” Ushar nagged him over the sound of footsteps, accompanied by a smell of chocolate, and a thunk-clink of a tray with spoons being set down on the table as the cooks brought the muffins through. “Your job is important, here, Kylo. Snoke wants you to do well.”

“To hell with Snoke,” Kylo mumbled, hoping the crusty fart wasn't spying on his thoughts as they spoke. Paperwork was a fate worse than a fate worse than all the Sith hells combined.

“Then we want you to do well,” she continued.

“Plus we blew up so much shit on that mission,” Vicrul added, and Kylo opened his eyes to glare at her as she accepted a mug from Kuruk.

“You have to tell the General about that some time, why not put it in a report? You'd save him lots of time, probably. I bet he'd be so appreciative.”

Kylo accepted a mug proffered by Kuruk and waved it about a bit. “Since when do we care about saving Hux time? I meant what I said, he loves paperwork so much he probably,” he picked up a spoon and stabbed it into the fluffy top of the muffin, watching steam come out as he tried to pick a suitably ridiculous image of Hux. “He probably sleeps with all the files strewn over his bed and like,” he made a face, “rubs them on his body, gets all cozy with them at night. I don't know.”

“I'm pretty sure he does paperwork on his data-pad,” Ap'lek said, and she was right, though Kylo resented that she'd killed his roll.

“Just do the kriffing report, Kyle.” Trudgen hadn't pulled her attention away from the holo enough to face him as she'd said it, but apparently had been paying enough attention to comment, “Anything to stop him showing up and interrupting us. Girls' night is a no-business zone.”

Cardo chose that moment to vault over the back of the sofa and land heavily on the cushions. “Ooh, General Hux came over?” she asked cheerfully. Her hands were, predictably, still coated in chocolate powder. “I can't believe I missed him, I want to see if his hair is gelled that solid from close up.” She grabbed her mug and dug into the muffin.

“The General shouts too much,” Kuruk said, sitting cross legged on a cushion by the coffee table. “He should check his blood pressure, it can't be good for him.”

“Hey, a bit like you!” Cardo added, “You must call me through next time. He's cute.”

Kylo opened his mouth – partly to gape at what had just been said, and partly because the muffin was too hot and he hadn't had the impulse control to prevent eating a large spoonful. “Hey!” he started a few times, mouth full and burning. Finally, he was able to swallow. “He is not cute, and there will be no,” he wobbled his mug and spoon in a no-fingered version of quotation marks, “next time.”

“Then do the report,” Ushar shot back.

Kylo made a loud complaint noise.

“He's not gonna do it because he wants the General to come over again,” Ap'lek teased, and, to Kylo's horror, all his knights laughed. Traitors. He didn't want Hux to come over again.

“I don't,” he replied vehemently, “I want him to kriff off and stop annoying me.”

“I think that's against his job description,” Kuruk said, prompting further laughs.

“You should just do it,” Ushar said, getting to her feet after a moment more.

“Hey, where you going?” Vicrul asked sadly, not letting go of Ushar's hand.

“Babe, I gotta peel my face.”

“Wait, let me come with, it's really satisfying.”

The two disappeared off, and Kylo had to add 'his knights screwing in his bathroom' to his list of sub-par things to happen this evening. He wasn't going to do the report. He couldn't be bothered, he didn't want to, he hated writing things and making them sound 'formal'. No, tonight he was going to finish his mug muffin, paint his nails and fall asleep with his knights in front of a trashy holo-romance. Hux would get the hell in eventually and do the report himself. Give it a few more days, and Kylo was sure Hux would drop the issue.

#kylux #fanfiction #my writing #girls night #armitage hux #kylo ren #knights of ren #the knights of ren #star wars #star wars sequels

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maddiewritesstucky · 4 years

Text

Rating: Explicit (18+)

Pairing: Stripper Bucky / Architect Steve

Words: 3790

Tags: Sexy shower antics, post-exercise endorphin highs, Steve is a badass for like 10 minutes, Bucky is not a morning person (until he suddenly is), enthusiastic morning sex

A follow-up one-shot to the slow death of Steve Rogers. Many thanks to my radiant cassowary @kalee60 for giving it your clever eyes. Infinite birdseed for you 😘

(Also on Ao3)

When Bucky wakes up, he is aware of two things, and two things only.

One - it’s way too fucking early for his eyelids to have peeled themselves back the way they have, if the rosy tint of the sky outside is anything to go by, and two - his foot should have connected with some part of Steve’s anatomy by now on it’s customary post-waking stretch across the mattress.

His body is coming online one limb at a time, and he grunts his displeasure into the rumpled sheets; gaze firmly averted from the clock on the bedside table. Putting a number to it will only make him angry, and the stupid beautiful soft dawn light filling the bedroom tells him everything he needs to know anyway.

Why they had decided to move into Steve’s apartment when Bucky’s actually had things like properly functioning curtains, he has no idea.

"Steve,” he groans, voice thick with the remnants of sleep and the injustice of waking before he intended to.

He kicks his foot out a little further; throws an arm out to join the search party too, but finds Steve’s side of the bed decidedly more vacant than it had been when he fell asleep last night.

Running, some vaguely helpful part of Bucky’s subconscious supplies, you fell for a man who goes running at bastard o’clock in the morning.

He flops over onto his back and scrubs his hands up over his face; up through the tangled mess of hair that seems to find new ways of defying its scrunchie-prison every night. His vision sharpens into focus and sticks a moment on the giant canvas print photo of himself and Steve smiling back at him from the far wall; a grinning relic of a Bucky who was not woken before his time.

It still makes his stomach flip a little, that picture - the two of them stuffed into the heavy-knit sweaters Bucky’s ma had made them last Christmas; both in the throes of losing their shit over the comically absurd miscalculation she’d made on size. Steve’s got tears in his eyes, and Bucky’s aren’t even open, and they’re clinging to each other with that special kind of desperation that intense, prolonged laughter seems to spawn.

It’s everything good about their life together, that photo; the sheer warmth and joy they’ve found in one another over the past year, the sense of home and family and right.

It’s even more heartwarming, Bucky finds, when the sun is a reasonable distance above the horizon.

He drags his protesting body out of its sleep-warmed cocoon, his intentions set on the brand new bag of espresso grind that Last-Night Bucky had so wisely left sitting on the kitchen counter.

He’s going to use Steve’s favorite mug, the one he’d happened across in a yard sale that reads ‘architects do it on drafting tables’ with a lewd stick figure drawing. Partially because it holds the most coffee, and partially because if Steve had remained in bed this morning, with all his familiar warmth and dependable big-spoon behavior, Bucky would have remained blissfully unconscious until his alarm went off.

...Steve’s not here to actually see this particular middle-finger of a gesture, but that’s beside the point. Bucky will know.

It’s not until he’s shuffling his way down the hall, already two steps past the closed bathroom door, that Bucky registers the faint sounds of water hitting tile, and the sporadic, off-key hum of a post-run Steve.

His feet halt in their tracks before he’s even made the conscious decision that coffee can wait.

He wants to keep walking, to get his precious cup of bean nectar and crawl back into bed for another hour or three, it’s just...

Post-run Steve is kind of Bucky’s jam.

He’s sweaty, and loose-limbed, and hopped up on exercise endorphins which, more often than not, make him inexplicably horny and give him the closest approximation of a bad boy complex that someone with Steve’s demeanor could possibly get.

Post-run Steve is the only good thing about being awake at this god forsaken hour.

The sunrise, and the stillness, and the smell of fresh dew can get fucked, but Bucky will carpe the hell out of a diem for some Post-run Steve.

He slips quietly into the bathroom, and is immediately grateful for the time he spent descaling the shower door yesterday when he’s met with an unimpeded view of Steve’s glorious back. What goddamn right an architect has looking like that, Bucky has no idea, but you wanna talk about some aesthetically pleasing angles?

Steve’s got one hand braced against the wall, head dipped to draw out the line of his back. His skin’s a little flushed; water channeling in fast-flowing rivulets between the soft ridges and swells of his drawn-taut muscles, and he’s breathing those quiet grunts of the recently-exerted.

He’s a living, breathing thirst-trap, and the knowledge that he’d only blush and change the subject if Bucky told him so just makes it a thousand times better.

Bucky pushes his soft flannel sleep pants off his hips and lets them fall to the floor, sending up another silent salute to Last-Night Bucky for going commando, and steps forward to pull open the shower door.

...Later on, when Bucky is reflecting on it all, he’ll blame the early hour and his pre-caffeinated state for the fact that he didn’t realise. The soft noises falling from Steve’s lips, the very particular bunch and flex of very particular muscles…

Any other time of day, Bucky would have known straight away.

Any other time of day, and Bucky wouldn’t have even needed to be in the same room - he could be at the bodega down the street, and his nipples would inexplicably harden at the pluck of Steve’s distant arousal on the cosmic spiderweb.

But as it happens in the moment, it’s not until Steve’s head is falling back on a low moan that Bucky realizes exactly what it is he’s walked in on.

“Oh, shit...”

It’s off his tongue before he can reel it back in, and Steve almost jumps out of his skin.

His head whips around, and for the briefest flicker of a moment, he looks shocked and uncertain and embarrassed as all hell.

But this right here is no weekday-afternoon Steve. This is not the blushing, bumbling hunk of love meee that occupies the corporeal form of Steve Rogers 95% of the time.

No, this is Post-run Steve, and it’s all of about two seconds before he’s schooling his features into something more akin to vaguely-smirking indifference; turning until he’s facing Bucky front on, and settling his weight back against the shower wall.

“Babe, I’m sorry, I didn’t--” Bucky begins, as close to apologetic as one can really be about seeing their significant other in a compromising yet Very Sexy position. But the words dry up on his lips as Steve lifts a finger to his own in the universal gesture of ‘shush.’

He watches, rapt, as Steve first reaches over to the tap and shuts off the water, and then takes up the bottle of Bucky’s conditioner, squirting some into his hand before wrapping it back around his cock.

And then that jacked-up idiot, that neuro-chemical flooded pseudo bad bitch, looks Bucky dead in the eye...and goes right back to jerking off.

He’s putting on a goddamn show with it too - pulling at his cock, long and slow and tight; dropping his head back against the wall and letting his moans ricochet shamelessly off the tile. The sound of his fist working over his dick is lewd as hell, so much more audible for the fact that there’s no rush of running water to mask it anymore, and Bucky wonders briefly if he ever actually woke up at all, if this isn’t just all a very believable wet dream.

It certainly contains all the usual elements - intense eye contact; a big fat dick getting rubbed off by a beefy, naked, wet dude (bonus that it’s Bucky’s actual, real-life boyfriend); the kinds of sounds you usually only hear in porn…

For all Bucky knows, he could still be tucked up in bed asleep, and not standing here naked and painfully erect in this steamed up bathroom, watching his boyfriend jack it like he’s starring in some locker-room porno.

“You need somethin’, or you just come in here to watch?” Steve drawls, arching a brow at him, and yeah - there’s a lot of things Bucky needs all of a sudden.

He rakes an assessing gaze over Steve’s body, stepping into the shower and pressing his palms to the swell of Steve’s pecs.

“I just wanted to make sure your run went okay,” he shrugs, “no pulled tendons, shin splints...aching muscles…that kinda thing.”

He squeezes at Steve’s shoulders and his biceps and his tiny waist; threads his hands up through Steve’s hair and slots a thigh between Steve’s to push their hips together.

Steve’s skin is so warm, and slippery, and he smells like soap, and Bucky starts mentally calculating just how much time they have and how much energy he can feasibly expend before their respective work days start.

He’s not on stage tonight, but he is on shift for his day job at the community center, teaching a preschool ballet class at 10am, and then a seniors ballroom dancing session at midday before his contemporary classes in the afternoon. Steve’s working from home today, so hypothetically it wouldn’t matter if Bucky wore him out a little…

“Buck...”

“Mm?”

He rubs his whole self shamelessly against Steve, pressing in so the barbells spiked through his nipples drag across the wet expanse of Steve’s chest. He kisses Steve’s neck and his tits and his mouth, hungry and handsy and a little frantic, and Steve laughs softly against his lips as he turns them to push Bucky up against the slick tile of the shower wall.

“Your concern is deeply moving,” he deadpans, caging Bucky in with hands planted either side of his head, “but I think we need to talk about your bathroom etiquette...didn’t anybody ever teach you to knock?”

He’s staring Bucky down with eyes lit up something wicked; his body so very nearly touching Bucky’s but not quite, and it hits Bucky all over again that his boyfriend is, physically speaking...really fucking imposing.

It’s easy to forget, when he’s being...well, Steve. Perpetually polite, kind-hearted, goofy...Bucky feels like when he looks at Steve, he sees the softness of his nature, the quiet goodness that radiates out of him.

He sees the sensible shoes and the khaki pants, the careful artist hands and the way Steve still sometimes carries himself like the much-smaller man he claims to have once been.

He’s Stevie, and Bucky wouldn’t have him any other way.

But all of that also happens to be contained within a 6’2”, 200lb frame, and right now...Bucky kind of wants to suffocate under it.

“I am so sorry, Steven,” he says, though it’s entirely negated by the raging hard on he’s sporting and the giddy, gratuitous manner in which he’s still feeling Steve up.

He skates his fingertips down the rippled plain of Steve’s stomach, down to the trail of dusky blond hair leading south from his belly button, but Steve catches his hands and pins them up above his head.

“I’m sure you are,” Steve hums, “but I don’t think you appreciate the gravity of the situation here. See, you caught me in a very private moment, one that I was very much enjoying, and now I’m all thrown off. You got me feelin’ shy.”

...There’s some very compelling evidence to the contrary rubbing up against Bucky’s hip right now, but that’s beside the point. Steve’s teeth are scraping a line all the way down Bucky’s neck to nip at the ice fractals tattooed across his shoulder, and Bucky’s more than willing to play along.

“However can I make it up to you?”

He arches into the press of Steve’s body, the hard line of Steve’s cock nestled into the crease of his hip.

If Steve shifted just slightly, he’d be rubbing up against Bucky’s dick.

It’s not an accident that Steve isn’t making that shift.

“You really want to?” Steve kisses the question against his skin, making his way slowly back up to Bucky’s mouth, and Bucky nods vehemently.

He’s already wetting his lips in preparation for all the ‘making up’ they’re about to do; signalling his knees to get ready to bend and pulling at Steve’s grip on his wrists, but Steve doesn’t release him.

Instead, he pulls back just far enough to look Bucky square in the eye, and smiles entirely too sweet for the authoritative edge that rumbles into his voice. “Go back to bed, Bucky.”

Bucky has to blink a few times as the words circulate in his ears. His expression turns from I’m about to get some D! to oh god I’m being denied the D in about 0.2 seconds flat.

Bed is very far away from the dick that is currently in need of reparations, he can’t achieve anything from bed.

“But—you said—I was gonna—”

“Go. back. to bed.” Steve tightens his grip on Bucky’s wrists and leans his whole weight against him, right up in his space so his lips catch against Bucky’s as he speaks, “...and wait for me.”

Oh.

A big, stupid, ‘bout-to-get-railed grin stretches across Bucky’s face. He wriggles free of Steve’s grasp and stumbles out of the shower, stopping himself just shy of a wildly enthusiastic ‘yes sir!’

He thinks he can hear Steve’s laughter as he takes off back down the hall toward the bedroom, but it might just be his own echoing back to him. He throws himself down onto the unmade bed, still warm from when he got up not ten minutes ago, and honestly who needs to sleep in anyway? Sleeping in is for people who don’t have absolute poundcake boyfriends to screw them into the sunrise.

He should have toweled off, he realizes as his damp skin rubs against the bedding, but he cannot be blamed for life choices made before six am, and there are far more important things afoot anyway.

Things like the sound of the shower turning back on for approximately forty-five seconds, then the muted pass of a towel being scrubbed over hair, and footsteps on the hardwood growing ever closer to the bedroom.

God, this is gonna be a good day. What a beautiful day to be greeting the dawn, making the most of his youth, seizing everything life throws at him!

He has the good sense to snatch the lube out of the bedside drawer just as Steve walks into the room, eyeing him with amusement and hunger in equal measures.

“You know what the problem is, with what just happened back there, Buck?”

Steve saunters toward the bed with all the nonchalance of a man whose work day doesn’t start for another three hours.

He wraps his sizable hands around Bucky’s ankles and yanks him down the bed a little - for no other purpose than to hear Bucky’s breath hitch at the unnecessary show of strength - and climbs up onto the mattress to straddle Bucky’s shins.

“The problem is, I don’t like to make a spectacle of myself.” He plucks the lube from Bucky’s hand and pours some into his own, spreading it over his cock in lazy pulls. “Being the center of attention, having eyes on me...that’s more your speed.”

“Mhmm, yes, I am an attention whore,” Bucky nods, reaching grabby hands out at Steve who refuses to shift any further up his body, “and you are humble and handsome and have a big dick. Make out with me.”

Steve tuts and shakes his head, reaching his unoccupied hand to flick at one of Bucky’s nipple piercings.

“Oh, I don’t think you get to make requests right now. See, the worst part of you throwin’ me off back there? I was so fucking close. So now what you get to do, James, is flip the fuck over, and let me finish what I started.”

...Jesus, Bucky loves Post-run Steve.

He’s gonna marry Post-run Steve and have his hopped up little post-run babies, and make sure Steve never misses a single day of early morning exercise so he can bask in the glory of this magnificent bastard every goddamn day of his life.

Bucky flops over onto his front and gets his knees under himself, sticking his ass up in the air with a wiggle that’s probably a lot more comical than it is enticing. But the heat of Steve’s palms hook around the front of his thighs and pull them out from under him, sprawling him flat against the mattress.

There’s a sudden clamping of teeth on his ass cheek and the sharp swat of an open palm, and then Bucky’s being pressed firmly into the sheets by Steve’s weight settling high up on the backs of his thighs.

“Here’s what’s gonna happen,” Steve sighs, planting his hands on the dip in Bucky’s spine, “I’m gonna use your ass to get off, and then I’m going to get back into bed, while you go make us some coffee.”

Bucky nods into the mess of blankets under his cheek, futilely trying to rock his hips up against Steve’s considerable weight. “Yes, agreed, punishment fits the cri-hi wow okay.”

A wholly undignified sound is wrenched from Bucky’s chest as Steve skips all pretense of tease, and thrusts his slicked up cock into the crease of Bucky’s ass, rubbing off between his cheeks with a very singular purpose.

Bucky scrabbles to grab hold of his pillow and drags it down, wedging it under his hips with as much success as can be expected when you’re being pinned by a 200lb adrenaline-testosterone cocktail. It’s enough though, to very favorably cushion the rub of his dick, and all things considered…this whole thing is working out pretty well for him.

He’s expending precisely zero effort, but the wet glide of Steve’s cock over his hole and the push of Steve’s hips rubbing him into the pillow is very much Doing It for him, and he lets his body go loose and pliant as Steve does all the work for the both of them.

And Steve is putting in work - rocking Bucky into the mattress with a fervor that knocks the breath out of him and sends the headboard careening rhythmically into the wall.

“Y’hear that, Buck?” Steve pants, not for a second breaking his frankly devastating pace. “That’s what a fuckin’ knock sounds like.”

“Oh my god.”

This is exactly how every single day of Bucky’s life should begin. Naked, giddy, cocks enthusiastically rubbing up against holes, and Steve running his mouth like he won’t be turning ten shades of red about it later.

If this is the payoff, Bucky will bust in on every single shower Steve has for the rest of his life.

“I love you,” he laughs a little breathlessly into the bedding, biting off a moan at the heat coiling low in his belly.

It’s entirely sincere, and he says it because he means it...but if he also happens to know by now that those words are a direct hit to Steve’s prostate during sex?

That’s just a happy coincidence.

Steve makes a sound like he’s been punched, his thighs twitching and tensing where they’re clamped around Bucky’s hips.

His breaths are coming sharp and shallow, his movements taking on a frantic edge that betrays exactly how close he is, and Bucky would ask him to slow down, except he really, really doesn’t want him to.

“I love you, Stevie,” he says again, letting his own building climax bleed into his voice, “love you so much...come on, baby...”

“Fuck, Bucky, I...oh...”

His weight falls forward over Bucky as he comes, and it’s all the shove Bucky needs to tip over the edge with him.

He spills all over his pillow, burying a moan into the sheets and huffing under the weight of Steve’s body going lax on top of him.

“Oh my god, Buck,” Steve groans, vaguely awed like it wasn’t his own efforts that just brought them both to sticky ruin, and Bucky reaches a hand back to swat weakly at him.

“You said it, pal.”

Steve nuzzles into the crook of his neck, planting breathless kisses against his skin and running his hands over every part of Bucky he can reach.

It’s so tangible, that shift back to normalcy, back to Steve. It always hits Bucky square in the chest, the way he can feel Steve’s edges softening, feel that boisterous energy turn sweet and mellow in the aftermath.

It’s kind of precious, actually, though Bucky would never phrase it like that to Steve’s face.

He squirms beneath Steve’s weight, getting himself turned over until he’s on his back beneath him. “Good morning,” he smiles up at Steve softly, running his fingers through the still-damp tufts of his hair.

Steve sighs happily, letting his eyes drift shut and tilting his head into Bucky’s hand. “Good morning, pervert.”

“Hey, come on, you know I didn't do that on purpose! ” Bucky laughs, cupping Steve’s face and kissing him all over his cheeks. “I didn’t mean to embarrass you, I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Steve rolls his eyes, though the smile on his face says Bucky’s doesn’t really have anything to be sorry about. “Guess I can forgive you this one time.”

“You’re a gracious man.”

Bucky drags him down and kisses him right on his smile, sweet and lazy. When they pull apart, Steve’s got that dopey look on his face like he’s feeling a whole lot of something, and Bucky knows exactly what’s coming before Steve says it.

“Glad you love me, Bucky Barnes.”

...He knew it was coming, but it still gets him every time.

“Glad to love you, Steve Rogers.” He feels like he’s glowing a little as he leans up to peck Steve on the tip of his nose. “Now if I’m not mistaken, I owe you a cup of coffee...you’re gonna have to let me up if you want me to follow through on that.”

“Mm, counter offer - we both go wash off, together, and then I’ll make us breakfast while you handle the coffee?”

Bucky pretends to consider for a second before he nods, stretching his body out as Steve rolls his weight off him.

“Agreed.” He waves a hand in the general direction of the door, shooting Steve a wink and a lopsided grin. “Lead the way, pal. I believe you are intimately familiar with where the shower is.”

#stucky fanfic #stucky au #steve/bucky #stripper!bucky #architect!steve #pwp #sexy shower antics #Post-run Steve can get it

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cacoetheswriting · 3 years

Text

champagne problems, ch.14

Chapter Fourteen: Sunflower: Things are really looking up. A/N: chapter is titled after this song if you want to listen while reading. Word Count: 2k Warnings: maybe a swear word or two, but really just fluff

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A/N: i know i probably sound like a broken record, but thank you for your continuous love and support! i probably wouldn't have finished this fic series if it wasn't for y’all, and now we are almost at the end! after this chapter, there is only the epilogue left omg!!! also, shout out to @ellesgreenaway for the song suggestion that titled this chapter!

Spencer’s arms were wrapped tightly around your frame, reminding you without the use of words that he will never let you go again. His hot breath hit the back of your neck. It sent a gentle shiver down your spine causing you to flutter your eyes open. As you adjusted to the bright morning hues, you could feel his heart beating against you and a sleepy smile circled your lips.

There was no better feeling than waking up next to Spencer.

With him by your side, greeting the day was easy. It came slow and relaxed, as if the universe was commanding you to bask in this comfort for just a little while longer.

This is what harmony really felt like.

The second you stirred in your comfortably warm spot, and turned so you could admire the sleeping man next to you, he also opened his eyes. A smile instantly graced his features.

“Good morning, doctor.” You whispered and leaned over to peck his soft lips.

“Hmm... Good morning, how did you sleep?” The handsome doctor asked, his hand travelling to your face and brushing away any signs of sleep. You swayed into his touch like a magnet before replying; “Would you believe me if I said it was the best sleep I’ve had in months?”.

Spencer chuckled airily, his hand still caressing along your cheek. “I don’t know if I believe you, but I definitely am flattered.”

“As you should be, doctor.”

In a split-second, his lips slanted over yours in one of those open-mouthed kisses, tender yet extremely passionate. His fingers tangled in your hair, as he pulled you in as close as it was humanely possible. It always amazed you how your lips fit so perfectly together like two puzzle pieces.

After what felt like a glorious eternity, the brunette doctor slowly drew away. He placed a gentle kiss to the tip of your nose before rolling onto his back, one arm draped beneath your neck and hand resting on your shoulder.

“What would you like to do today?” Spencer asked, looking up at the ceiling. You contemplated his question for a moment, but before you got a chance to answer, the sound of your phone ringtone caught your attention.

Sitting up, you reached over to the bedside table and quickly answered the incoming call, “Hello?”

“Oh thank god, you’re alive!” Penelope breathed a sigh of relief on the other line. “We were all worried sick! I even stayed with Tara last night just in case you came back here.”

“I’m okay, don't worry guys.” You replied, glancing briefly at Spencer who has since gotten out of bed. He leaned down to kiss your cheek and exited the bedroom to give you some privacy.

“Well, you’ll get a talking to about not calling or texting later. But for now, how did it go? Tell me everything!” She asked and you couldn't help but giggle, “It went well, Pen. Like really well.” You replied.

Garcia squealed. “AHH! I am so happy for you, sugar plum! You and our lovely resident genius are just meant for each other. A match made in heaven!”

The smile gracing your features grew wider by the second. “Yeah, I’m glad it worked out in the end.”

“Like I knew it would! Now, you get back to whatever it is you were doing and I’m going to update Tara with this wonderful news. Should I tell her she needs to start looking for a new roommate?” She teased, and you rolled your eyes.

“Firstly, nothing untoward is happening.” You began, but Garcia was quick to interrupt you,“Riiight... I’m gonna pretend like I believe you, honey. Love you, have a great day and we can catch up on Monday.”

“Love you too, Pen.” You giggled back before the call ended.

Gradually, you scrambled out of bed and with a light bounce to your step, you joined the hazel-eyed doctor in the kitchen - where the smell of freshly brewed coffee overpowered your senses.

“So, how much trouble did you get in?” Spencer teased, as you rested your body weight against the counter next to him.

“Surprisingly, none at all.” You replied with a shrug. “She’s happy for us.”

Spencer glanced at you briefly, a smile circling his lips. “That makes two of us.” He stated in a low tone and you blushed ever so faintly.

“I forgot just how charming you can be, doctor.” You reacted, earning yourself a kind-hearted laugh. The melodic sound caused your heart to flutter, and you proceeded to tilt your head up and attach your lips to his.

The kiss was short and sweet, reminiscent of many you’ve shared previously. When you pulled apart, Spencer handed you a cup of coffee, and the two of you made your way to his couch.

“Have you given any thought as to what you’d like to do today?” He asked before pressing the mug to his mouth and taking a sip.

“Well, we’ve a lot of catching up to do, doctor.” You replied, throwing your legs over his lap. “I honestly wouldn't know where to start.”

“Y/N, we’ve our whole lives to make up for lost time.” He retorted, and you couldn't help but smile at the thought of growing old with him. “Let’s just take today to enjoy each others company. The sun is out, maybe you want to go for a walk? Or we can stay in and watch a movie?” He suggested.

You took a quick sip of your coffee. “We could actually do both of those things today, doctor. And if you’re good, I can even cook us dinner later.”

Spencer smirked. “If I’m good?”

You nodded, a stupid grin plastered across your face.

Truth be told, you had forgotten just how effortless everything was with Spencer. Your mind was continuously flooded with memories of your time with him. Even when you were apart, you’d get bombarded with thoughts of how uncomplicated the most menial tasks were with him. Although those memories didn’t compare to the serenity you were experiencing right now. Nothing compared to living in the moment with him, again.

The day you spent with Spencer had an unsurprising natural flow to it.

The brunette doctor first drove you to Tara’s, so that you could shower and change out of the pyjamas he lent you. While he waited for you to get ready, he enjoyed a conversation with Tara and Penelope. A conversation about the diamond ring he still carried with him everywhere - but that wasn't for you to know.

The four of you enjoyed a nice breakfast before the girls waved you off for the day. Spencer took the liberty of choosing the park for your walk. Hand in hand, the two of you looped around the paths for hours. Hours of laughing, chatting, and reminiscing. Hours of pure unfiltered joy.

Next stop on the unspoken agenda was the grocery store. Arguably one of your favourite places to go to, especially with the handsome doctor. While you picked out what you needed, Spencer guessed the ingredients of each item you placed in the metal cart. It was no surprise he was always correct, but honestly, that almost made the game more fun.

Back at his apartment, he helped you unpack the bags and proclaimed himself your sous chef. You wanted to protest, tell him to sit down and to let you cook alone, but Spencer wasn't having any of it - “My kitchen, my rules.”. The statement earned him an eye roll because you were sure the last person to actually cook anything proper in his kitchen was you, years ago.

With his... assistance, it took about three hours to make a simple recipe. And once you were finished, the kitchen looked as if a tornado had passed through it.

“Looks like we’ve an evening activity lined up.” Spencer joked, analysing the mess around, and you couldn't help but let out a laugh.

“Can’t wait.” A detectable hint of sarcasm in your voice.

The two of you ate in congenial silence - the first one of that day. It didn’t bother either of you, however. If anything the moment proved just how comfortable and at home you felt around one another.

The move to the couch after dinner was effortless. Spencer picked a movie, one you’ve both seen before so you could cuddle up to one another and talk about random topics without worrying about missing the plot.

It wasn’t until Spencer’s phone rang that you realised how disconnected from the outside world you’ve both been all afternoon.

“I’ll grab it for you, doctor.” You quickly jumped up on your feet before Spencer could do anything. You briskly shuffled around the sofa until you reached the coat hanger by the front door. As you searched the pockets of his jacket for the phone, your fingers brushed against something else.

The ringing stopped when you retrieved the item.

“Spencer, what’s this?” You asked, brows furrowed together.

The brunette doctor turned around. His gaze travelled to the small box you were holding up and he swallowed his breath. Shit. He completely forgot that was inside his jacket, which was ironic considering his eidetic memory. Not to mention the fact he’d been carrying it everywhere he went.

Spencer immediately jumped up from his seat. He appeared in front of you in a flash, his hand wrapping around yours and the box.

“This is definitely not how I envisioned this moment. But then again, when it comes to us, nothing ever goes as planned.” Spencer began, looking into your eyes. “I don’t think I’ve ever told you this, but ehm, I’ve known I wanted to be the man you marry since before we even started dating. You’re the most patient, caring, loving, and not to mention beautiful person I’ve ever met. I am extremely lucky to have you in my life.”

Your eyes glossed over with tears as Spencer continued, “I’ve loved you for a very long time, Y/N. The journey you and I have been on so far is more than your average couple goes on. Which proves that together we are extraordinary.”

He took a deep breath before retrieving the box from your grasp. He slowly got down on one knee and proceeded to open the small box, causing a gasp to escape your lips.

“You’ve been through a lot, Y/N. I understand that you may not be ready to take this next step with me yet, therefore this is more of a promise rather than a question.” He licked his lips, fighting back his own happy tears as yours trailed down your face.

“Y/N Y/L/N, will you marry me, one day?” Spencer asked and your heart soared at the question.

“Of course, yes. Yes, yes, yes! Yes!” You squealed, holding out your hand. The hazel-eyed doctor didn’t waste any time to put the ring on your finger, a goofy smile visible on his features. He then stood back up and kissed you with all his might, as you wrapped your arms around his neck and melted into his embrace.

“I would marry you in a heartbeat, doctor.” You mumbled against his lips.

Effortlessly lifting you off the ground, Spencer spun you around. The two of you laughing uncontrollably, basking in the love you were both experiencing. Your fingers tangled in his brown hair, as he trailed sloppy kisses across your jaw and down your neck.

“I love you.” Spencer whispered in your ear before pulling back to look at your face, his hazel gaze locking with yours. “I love you too.” You exclaimed in a hushed tone and pecked his lips.

Gently, he lifted your hand to admire how the ring looked on your finger. His lips twirling upwards even more, as if that was even possible. Both of you felt as if you were on cloud nine.

This is what the rest of your life felt like.

I promise I'm the one for you Just let me hold you in these arms tonight

A/N: ahhh we’re almost at the very end, i can’t believe it!! as always i’d love to hear your feedback! thank you for your continuous support. with love, mal. x

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story taglist: @girloncorneliastreet, @haylaansmi, @rexorangecouny, @l0ve-0f-my-life, @obsssedwithjustaboutanything, @aperrywilliams, @sassy-hades, @rainsong01, @reverdevivre, @dracomikaelson, @softieekayy, @lunaofcrows, @andrewhoezierbyrne, @blameitonthenight21, @lyl-26, @do-yr-research, @nazifa94, @stepsofthefbi, @chatterbug2-0, @calm-and-doctor, @halseysunset, @ellesgreenaway, @chipot-lol

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#champagne problems series #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid angst #spencer reid story #spencer reid x oc #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfiction

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snootsnoot-fiction · 4 years

Text

You Know That Right?

Pairing: Anakin Skywalker x reader

Word count: 1.4k

Warnings: References to smut, but otherwise pure fluff :)

A/n: Eeeyy my first Star Wars fic. I actually feel fairly proud of this one. This is a lil thank you for @lemonboy-milo 💜

Summary: After a rough welcome home, Anakin takes care of you...

Life as a jedi was tough. There were hard times, but being a jedi was everything he wanted since meeting Qui-Gon. Anakin Skywalker dreamed of having the power to do good things, and the jedi master had granted him that chance before his death.

A loss he noticed, despite only having just met Obi-Wan, his one and only master took hard. He hid it. Oh he hid it well, but the padawan felt grief more intense than he, himself, would have. Only briefly. After that, all his focus was on training the boy like his own master had wanted, and following the jedi order.

Since then, Anakin had enjoyed learning to be a jedi. Naturally, he quickly developed the ability to disagree whenever he thought of what he assumed to be better alternatives or options.

The young man was almost at something like a loss when it came to his mother. The woman who raised him. Who did everything she could to keep him safe, and happy. Only for her life to end with suffering.

Something within him changed that fateful day. He felt a pain tremendously greater than the one he only sensed from Obi-Wan at the passing of his own master. Never again would he allow something like that to happen.

Since then, he had met the most amazing person. Someone who, against all odds, managed to ease his pain.

You understood there was more to Anakin than meets the eye. That there was something beneath all that playfulness. Something that maybe he wasn't even quite aware of himself just yet.

His desire to protect those he loved was one of many things you loved about him. The both of you were fully aware of how the relationship you had would very well be frowned upon by the jedi, but what mattered is you kept each other sane, and happy.

You had led a tough life prior to meeting Anakin Skywalker. A life that your beloved seemed to make all worthwhile.

The two of you fell hard and fast, and it wasn't long before you were seeing each other behind closed doors. Of course, there was worry at first, especially from you, but the man had long since eased the panic attacks out of you. That's not to say you didn't still occasionally panic. You did, but he always knew exactly what to do to keep you grounded, in the here and now. Happy.

You loved that, while he was sometimes immature, he always knew exactly how to look after you. Especially when you really needed it after those particularly hard days.

Anakin was everything you wanted and more, and you wondered how you became so lucky to have simply met him. Let alone actually get to know him and get to where you are now.

Of course, the pair of you were more than capable of getting down and dirty when the mood struck you. Like today.

Not long after he had walked through the door a couple hours ago, you practically jumped on the man. It was initially intended as a simple excited welcome, but it had quickly developed into something more.

Needless to say, your body was now aching in the best way possible. Little bruises littered your body from his hard kisses and grip.

Laying there for a moment, merely breathing, you both stared up at the ceiling before you cuddled up to him. Anakin wrapped an arm around you protectively, looking down to place a kiss on the top of your head.

"Are you okay?" He murmured softly.

"...A little sore." You admitted quietly. "But in a good way!" You rushed to say, despite knowing he knew exactly what you meant. Anakin smiled to himself as he let out a small, satisfied chuckle.

The man laid there, his fingers brushing shapes absent-mindedly on your arm. Suddenly he took in a deep breath, nearly making you jump after such a peaceful silence. A whimper of protest escaped you when you realised you were no longer cuddled up against his warm body.

Your whimper was noted, but Anakin stayed silent as he hovered over you, looking over your entire body at all the marks he had left. The body that he adored and loved so much. After another moment, his fingers traced one of the bruises on your hips. It made you shiver pleasantly as you saw the focus on his face and the care in his touch.

Leaning down, the jedi placed a soft, lingering kiss on it.

"Better?" He didn't look up as his eyes wandered to the next bruise.

"A little." You answered with a smile as you watched him kiss another. "Much." At that, he looked up at you with a smile before focusing on attacking each and every mark and bruise he left with the sweetest, softest kisses he could muster.

You could swear the kisses were actually making you feel much better as a happy warmth spread through you. Before you knew it, the man's face was suddenly in front of yours.

He gently grabbed your chin between his thumb and forefinger. You stared into his eyes - entranced - as he smiled happily. Then he placed another soft, lingering kiss filled with his love on your lips. You were so taken away by the cloud nine it put you on, you hadn't realised he had stopped until you opened your eyes and saw him standing and pulling his underwear back on.

After he had them on, he looked to see you pouting at him. A small chuckle left him. Anakin crossed the little distance between you, placed a hand on the back of your head, and placed a quick kiss on your forehead.

"Wait right here." He gave you a reassuring smile before disappearing.

Less than a minute passed before he reappeared with a glass of cool water. Sitting on the edge of the bed, the man wrapped his arm around your shoulders, propping you up before placing the edge of the glass at your lips. You welcomed the cold liquid. A grateful sigh left you when the glass was pulled away and placed on the nightstand.

Anakin gave you a moment before pulling you forward just enough so he could sit in behind you. You were confused, but then he started massaging your shoulders. His touch was like magic, and you instantly melted into him with a groan of relief.

"You sure you're okay?" His voice suddenly asked from behind you. You were enjoying the work his fingers were doing so much, you didn't realise straight away he had spoken. "You there?"

"Huh?" You were back to reality now he had put a pause on his actions. "Y-yeah." Your cheeks reddened. You heard a soft scoff. "I'm perfect." You answered when you remembered his other question.

"Yes you are.." an affectionate purr fell from his lips as he placed an equally affectionate kiss on your shoulder. Your cheeks reddened even further as your heart gave a little flutter.

There was a grunt as Anakin moved again. Making sure not to move you too much, the man moved to sitting beside you. Gently, he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you against him - your head resting against the front of his shoulder.

"Did you have to stop?" You asked with a longing sigh.

"You should get some proper rest sooner or later, my love."

"Okay Ani…" you spoke with a forced tone of disappointment, but you both knew how much you loved the care he would give you, especially after the more rough times.

Anakin let out a tired, soft chuckle before getting even more comfortable. Then, he combed one hand through your hair. Your locks were as soft as he imagined clouds to be. The jedi couldn't stop playing with your hair with one hand, while the other had continued on making shapes on your arm.

"I love you, Y/N.. you know that right?"

"Of course I do!" Your voice was soft with your growing tiredness, but there was still a hint of disbelief that he need even ask. He made you feel loved beyond what words could even express. He was a jedi, but neither of you cared. You were as happy as could be at the mere chance to be together. "I love you too, Anakin." You watched your fingers as they began tracing shapes of their own on his chest. "You know that right?" You couldn't help a little giggle as you threw his question back at him, but you were also serious.

"Of course I do!" Anakin forced a tone of disbelief before chuckling playfully at having thrown your words back at you.

Snuggling until you were as comfy as can be, the both of you eventually drifted off in each others arms.

#anakin x reader #anakin skywalker #anakin skywalker fluff #star wars #hayden christensen #aftercare

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jamie-leah · 3 years

Text

War of Wolves (19)

Season 1

Episode 19 - The Search Begins

Bucky x Reader

Summary: You have been on the streets for the past two years, ever since your accident that left you with the ability to tell if someone is lying. You work as an informant for the white wolf and his mob but you had never met him…until you overhear a phone call that leads you to saving his life. Now he wants you to work for him. Its an offer you couldn’t refuse…right?

Word Count: 2530

Warnings: Violence, injuries, manhandling, medical talk, swearing, POV Changes

A/N: Here's another! Late as usual I know, but my life has taken an unexpected turn. However, lets hope these updates will not be more regular. There will be POV changes and I know Bucky's part is third person but I call it Bucky's POV because it's easier for everyone to follow! Enjoy Lovelies! Feedback is always encouraged!

<---Previous Episode Next Episode--->

WoW Masterlist Series Masterist Oneshot Masterlist

BUCKY’S POV

There’s a pounding in his head that hasn’t stopped since the crash. As his senses start to come back Bucky notices, he’s lying on concrete, the cold seeping into his bones.

About the same time, he realises he’s on the floor he remembers what happened. Bucky shoots up from the floor, causing dizziness but he didn’t care. The only thought he had was you.

As Bucky looks around, he sees the chair you were in empty and the room also empty. Morning had started to break, and he curses himself for losing precious hours.

As Bucky starts to make his way out of the building his body aches as his head keeps pounding in time with his heart.

He finally finds an exit and walks until he comes to a main road. Bucky looks around and breathes a sigh of relief that he knows where he is. With no phone or anything to communicate with anyone, Bucky walks.

He follows the main road as his thoughts race. He can’t help picturing you with Isaac and it makes him sick. The worry for you and the anger at himself and Isaac is almost enough to bring him to his knees, but he said he would find you and he would. He would die before he ever stopped looking.

Bucky felt like he had been walking forever but it was probably only about twenty-five minutes. The older building coming into view. He picks up the pace until he comes to the gates.

Bucky walks right in catching the eye of two men. They look at each other alarmed by the way he looks but Bucky simply says, “go get him”.

The one runs off as the other stays by the gate. Bucky keeps walking afraid that if he stops, he won’t be able to get back up.

As Bucky reaches the door Darren steps out looking concerned. Bucky clenches his jaw before saying, “I need your help”.

YOUR POV

You’re cold. You smell damp. You hear murmuring.

You shift and groan as your eyes protest being opened. You feel what must be springs digging into your back as you make sense of what you’re seeing.

Its quite a dark room, the ceiling old brick and as you follow it the walls are brick too. You sit up fast and groan. You notice you’re sitting on a mattress and metal frame.

You stand up and gasp as your bare feet touch stone. When you get over the shock you notice metal bars covering an archway, the only exit to this room.

It took you a while to comprehend what you were seeing but you finally realised that you were in a dungeon. You’re incredibly confused as voices get louder.

You walk closer to the bars, your feet becoming numb due to the cold until two figures step into view. It doesn’t take you long to see that its Harry and Isaac.

You look at the both of them, “where the hell am I?”.

Harry’s British accent comes out loud in the small space, “This is an estate of mine. I had a lot of extra room here, so I let Isaac renovate a few of his labs here”.

You screw up your face, “am I in a dungeon?”.

Harry chuckles, “my estate is essentially a castle, this place has many hidden places, this small dungeon being one”.

Isaac speaks next, watching you carefully, “no one knows you’re here. It’s just me, Harry and one of my men. The rest of the men don’t know you’re here, so Bucky definitely doesn’t know you’re here. Don’t cause me any trouble”.

You hold his gaze lifting your chin, “he’ll find me”.

Isaac smirks, “no. He won’t”. That’s when he pushes some type of clothing through the bars, “wear that. I have some initial tests I want to run as soon as possible. If you don’t have it on by the time my man comes to get you, he’ll put it on you himself”.

Without another word from either of them they leave. You pick up the clothing and see that it’s a hospital gown.

Its freezing in the room due to the stone so you don’t really want to put it on, but you don’t want to risk anyone else putting it on for you. You strip and quickly put the gown on. You sit on the edge of the bed and wait.

BUCKY’S POV

Darren didn’t even blink when he agreed to help in any way he could. The first thing that Bucky did was call Steve.

“Hello?”, Steve’s voice sounded tired, strained.

Bucky was just relieved to hear his voice, “Steve, its Bucky-“.

Steve interrupts him, “Bucky?! Where are you?! Are you hurt? I saw the car-“.

Bucky just manages to get out, “Steve, he took her”.

There was a heavy silence for a few moments, “where are you?”.

Bucky’s head was still hurting, “Darren’s”.

“Me and Sam will be there as soon as we can”, Steve waits a second before hanging up.

Darren comes back with a woman with a full looking rack. Bucky just sits there on Darren expensive looking sofa.

She comes over without a word and starts attending to the cut on Bucky’s head. Darren sits opposite Bucky and waits for the woman to finish. Before she leaves, she hands Bucky some tablets and water.

As Bucky takes them, Darren asks, “What happened Buck?”.

Bucky stares into space picturing the events as he tells Darren, “Isaac ambushed me and Y/N. I didn’t even see it coming. Rammed straight into us. I held em’ off as much as I could but there were too many of them and Y/N refused to run”.

Darren’s eyebrows raise, “brave woman”.

Bucky’s mouth twitches despite the circumstances, “stubborn woman…He took us to a warehouse about half hour from here. He was gonna kill me, but Y/N convinced him not to. He knocked me out and took her”.

Darren’s jaw clenched, “what do you need from me?”.

YOUR POV

It took about twenty minutes for you to hear footsteps and for another figure to come up to the bars. You can’t make much out other than he’s blonde and tall.

He opens the bar door and his gruff voice comes out, “move”.

“Where’s my please?”, you don’t know if its you being brave, stubborn, or stupid, but the comment comes out just the same.

The guy comes marching in and grabs your arm. He yanks so hard that your cry echoes in the room and you’re afraid he’ll rip it out of the socket.

You fight against him, fear of what Isaac has in store finally kicking in. But it doesn’t matter, you can’t get a grip with your bare feet and your punches bounce off him.

He leads you down narrow corridors and you lose track until he stops abruptly at a wooden door. He opens it one handed and drags you in.

Its like you stepped into a different reality. The room was white, and the floor was tiled. It was like you had entered a hospital. It made the knot in your stomach tighten painfully.

Isaac was sitting at a desk in a white coat. Your eyes slide from him to the glass window in front of him that looked into a room with an MRI machine.

Isaac talks with his back still to you, “put her on the table”.

The man starts backing you up, but you keep resisting. You manage to clip the guy in the face, his grip loosening enough to break free for only a second. Before you can get very far, he pulls you by your hair and throws you into the table.

Your stomach collides with the edge of the table and knocks the wind right out of your lungs. You double over and end up falling to the floor trying to suck in air.

Isaac doesn’t even care. He just walks over calmly as you struggle to breathe and injects something into your arm. You don’t remember anything after that.

BUCKY’S POV

The pounding in his head hadn’t stopped. The dizziness was still there, but Bucky couldn’t keep still. He was pacing in front of Darren worrying about you and wondering how he was going to find you.

There was a knock on the door that made Bucky turn around in his pacing. One of Darren’s workers had guided Steve and Sam to the room.

Steve took big strides over to Bucky, pulling him into a hug, closely followed by Sam. When Sam steps back he says, “we’re gonna get her back”.

Steve nods before asking, “what happened?”.

So, Bucky tells them everything. Once Bucky finishes Steve asks, “you got people on the inside, right? You planted people in Isaac’s organisation a while ago?”.

Bucky nods, “I’ll reach out to them, ask if they’ve seen her or heard anything about where he’s got her. There were also cameras at the warehouse he took us to, pull the footage and see if it tells us something”.

Sam holds his hand up, “we’ll do all of that and whatever else you need us to do, but we need to take you back and get you some medical attention”.

Bucky starts to shake his head, but Steve talks next, “Sam’s right. You can reach out to your informants in the car on the way back home, but you need to get your head checked out. You’re no good to Y/N if you’re injured”.

Bucky nods frustrated with how right they were and how much time its going to waste, “okay, lets get moving then”.

Bucky starts moving towards the door and everyone follows. Steve and Sam get in the car and Bucky follows. Before he closes the door, Darren says, “I’ve got a few people I can reach out to. I’ll let you know if I hear anything”.

Bucky nods, grateful, before slamming the door. Sam hands him a phone to start making calls as Steve speeds back home.

YOUR POV

It was like you were repeating history. You wake up groggy again and you shift as springs dig into your back.

You take in your cell and start to get up before the world tilts causing you to crash back onto the bed. That’s when Isaac speaks, making your heart race, “you’re going to feel dizzy and you’ll probably throw up soon. I need you to rest because I’ll need to take a few more tests in a few hours”.

You manage to murmur, “fuck you”.

Isaac chuckles, “the harder you fight the more I’m going to enjoy breaking your spirit. There’s a bucket in the corner of the room for when you throw up”.

You listen to his footsteps walking away, loud to the throbbing of your head. You try focusing on your breathing, but it wasn’t long before you felt saliva flood your mouth and your stomach clench.

You stumble out of bed and towards the corner. You nearly fall two times before making it to the bucket and heaving. Not much comes out as you stay hunched over the bucket for about half an hour just heaving.

By the time it stops your body is shaking and you have to crawl back over to the bed. You get back on and curl in on yourself, falling asleep to forget.

BUCKY’S POV

By the time they get back to the house Bucky has got in touch with everyone that he can think of, but it still doesn’t feel like enough.

He gets out the car more frustrated than ever and once inside he makes a beeline for the office. That is until Steve blocks his path, “I don’t think so. Med wing. Now”.

Bucky doesn’t fight as Steve escorts him towards the medical wing. He asks softly, “how is Peggy doing? I can’t believe I missed everything”.

Steve smiles, “she’s doing great. She’s at the safe house with the kids thinking of a name for our boy as we speak”.

Bucky nods, lost in thoughts, “good, that’s good”.

Steve looks over concerned, “Buck…”.

Bucky reaches for the med wing doors, “go and get the footage from the warehouse and get in contact with anyone I missed in the car while I get my head sorted”. Bucky didn’t give Steve a chance to say or ask whatever he was going to say as he lets the doors close.

YOUR POV

You wake to the noise of the barred door scrapping against the stone floor. You don’t move from your foetal position on the bed.

It’s the blonde guy again, “move”.

Your body still feels weak and shaky. When your voice comes out you don’t recognise it, “go fuck yourself”.

You hear his heavy steps approaching and you brace yourself. Again, he yanks your arm and pulls you off the bed. You don’t expect it and can’t catch yourself in time before your hip and knee collide with the stone floor.

You yelp as pain radiates along your leg. As you try breathing through the pain, he takes advantage and manages to carry you most of the way without much fight from you.

He drops you on the table in the room and Isaac is waiting with another syringe. He wastes no time in using it as you feel the sting in your arm.

They both step back and you start to get off the table, but your limbs don’t listen. You try moving your legs, but you go nowhere. You try moving your arms but still you’re staring at the white ceiling.

Panic starts clawing in your chest as your eyes dart around the room as much as they can. You can feel the cool table underneath you but despite all your strength you can’t even make your fingers twitch.

You even go to ask Isaac what he did but your mouth wouldn’t open. Fear was gripping your racing heart as you hear your blood in your ears like the sea raging on the shore.

Isaac comes into view with a smile, “try not to panic, it wouldn’t do me any favours if you died. I needed to do an MRI with you awake, but I imagined you wouldn’t lay still for me, so I thought I’d make you”.

He nods to the blonde guy and he picks you up. He takes you into the next room and places you on the machine.

During the entire process you try to move, but nothing worked. The loss of control and feeling of helplessness made breathing difficult.

You decided to just close your eyes and picture Bucky. You picture him healthy and in one of his black suits. You try and imagine what he would say to you now. He’d probably cup your face and make your eyes look at his and say, “you’re strong, smart, and stubborn. I know you can do this until I get there, you just need to breathe Doll. Just breathe for me. I will find you”.

It was only when you opened your eyes that you realised a tear had escaped down the side of your cheek and into your hair.

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#bucky #bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky fanfic #bucky x you #bucky fandom #bucky series #bucky fic #bucky x y/n #james buchanan barnes #james bucky barnes #mob!bucky #mob!au

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imaginesupply · 4 years

Text

Sore backs and tented shorts, or The one where Tom gets a massage

Tom Hiddleston x Reader one-shot

It’s been ages since I’ve written anything and I’m feeling a bit rusty but inspiration just hit and my three remaining braincells - who’ve survived the current heatwave so far - came up with this smutty filth.

I hope you’ll enjoy! Let me know what you think :) (It’s proofread but it seems by ability to spot typos and mistakes rises by 200% percent as soon as I hit post.)

Word count: About 2.6k

Warnings: Oral sex (male receiving), improper uses of the word ‘God’ and unrealistic descriptions of massages.

---

Tom stretched, trying to pop the knots on his back, as he sat down to rest between scenes. Maybe he was getting old, too old for this, Tom pondered for a second before mentally slapping himself on the face. Who was he kidding? Loki was a role he'd never give up on, as in never ever.

So if that meant performing the various stunts himself for authenticity's sake and suffering through it, he would do it, without complaining.

He stretched once more, giving the battered script one last read before getting ready to shoot the next scene of the series.

The camera crew adjusted the filming angles while the make up artist powdered his face, making sure there was no excessive shine to his skin. Loki would certainly not break a sweat running away from a building he himself set on fire and throwing himself on the ground with a grin just a second before it all exploded.

Yes, Loki would undoubtedly be grinning in that situation, Tom reckoned. The human, however, tried not to flinch as he realised he'd have to run and throw himself on the mattress with all his strength, again and again. The mattress was certainly softer than the ground they'd CGI into the scene, but his body was also certainly more breakable than Loki's.

One hour later, Tom was spent. Letting himself collapse on the blue stunt mattress, he was relieved that everyone had finally agreed that the take had been perfect - the grin, the hair, the elegance. The only thing he wanted now was to hurry home and sleep. Maybe he could ever delay his shower to the next morning if he changed the sheets upon waking up, he negotiated with himself.

"Hey, you okay?"

Tom opened an eye only to find Kate crouched over him, a frown obscuring her features. "Yeah, I'm just feeling a little worn down, that's all."

Kate nodded to herself. For a second she felt guilty she was asking too much of him, but then they'd both agreed that they wanted the series to be perfect, whatever it took. "You were great back there."

His eyes were already closing again and he only nodded noncommittally. "Anyway, I suggest you go take a shower. The message therapist I booked for you is already setting up."

Tom sat up in a flash, his back protesting the movement. "That's very kind but I'm alright, no need for-"

"Be ready in ten minutes unless you want to be late," Kate interrupted him, challenging his British punctuality. He opened his mouth again, but she waved him off, knowing what he was going to say. "Bobby has been fed and walked. He's lying outside right now with part of the crew, enjoying the last sun rays of the day."

Tom cursed internally and got up, feeling outsmarted. This was not something he was looking forward to but he'd be damned if he showed up late.

"Also, this will be routine until we finish shooting." Kate added quietly before running off.

--- Water droplets ran down his back as he stepped out of the shower, a white towel wrapped low around his hips. Sighing, he cleaned some of the fog on the mirror with his hand and then proceeded to tumble dry his black hair before adding some nourishing product to it.

It was only then that he remembered he had no change of clothes with him, more specifically underwear, since he always preferred showering at home. Contemplating his clothes on the back of the chair, he concluded that he didn't have many options unless he wanted to put on the boxers briefs he had worn all day or go nude. Tom chuckled to himself at the latter thought, already imagining a young male therapist telling him to take his English countryside back over the pond. Deciding not to make the person he'd have to see for the next month uncomfortable on the very first day, Tom pulled on the black running shorts he had worn to set that morning, going commando underneath.

---

One minute late, Tom knocked on the door to the infirmary.

"Come on in." A voice replied. A feminine voice to be exact. Not what he had expected.

Obeying the lady, Tom opened the door and let himself in, his eyes landing on his new massage therapist for the very first time. Clearly not what he had expected. Tom swallowed, using his acting skills to appear nonchalant even as he subtly - or at least, as subtly as was possible in such small quarters - eyed the woman in front of him.

Her hair was tied back in a neat ponytail, revealing the elegant curve of her neck. She was wearing a tight fitting white t-shirt with equally white yoga pants. A look of purity all in all though it had his mind immediately wandering to the realms of exquisitely impure thoughts.

"Hi! I'm (Y/N). Nice to meet you, Tom," she introduced herself, stretching out her hand for him to shake. "Oh! Do you mind me calling you Tom? I can also go for Mister Hiddleston if you prefer."

Tom suppressed a groan, there was always something about being called that that got his mind spinning. Chastising himself, he shook her hand, flexing his biceps more than was necessary. Her hand was soft and warm and small, exactly what he needed. "Nice to meet you, (Y/N). Please do call me Tom. We'll be seeing each other quite a lot after all."

She nodded, smiling kindly before telling him to lie down on the massage table. Tom noticed that it was in fact surprisingly wide, but didn't think much of it. Maybe Kate was right, he needed this. His body undeniably did and if he were honest, he had been craving the touch of another human, feeling rather lonely as of late. Most of his friends were back in London, and those that weren't, were still too far away. As for a different kind of touch, a woman's company to be more exact, he couldn't remember the last time he had being blessed with it either. Definitely before Atlanta, he concluded.

He barely heard her move around, her naked feet making little to no noise on the floor. "We will do a combination of deep tissue and Thai massage today, so that I can determine your problem areas for the next time."

Tom was in fact aware of a very problematic area of his but decided to spare her the dirty joke. He just didn't realise quite yet how problematic that area was in fact going to become.

(Y/N) came to a stop in front him, he could feel her presence as she warmed the oil between her palms before finally gliding her hands over the skin of his back. Tom couldn't help the pleasurable hum that escaped his lips as she started working out the knots on his back, some of them loosening under her touch with an audible crack that had her chuckling. God, even her voice was perfect. Dozing off was becoming more and more tempting to Tom, his eyelids feeling heavier than ever when she bent forward over his body to reach farther down his back. He felt her breasts press against him as she did so, the back of his head suddenly encompassed between them. Yes, there was the bra and then that pesky t-shirt between her chest and his skin but his body didn't seem to care. Not even one bit.

Clenching his teeth, Tom felt blood rush down to his once again problematic area. The fact that his dick was squished under him only served to make the situation all the more uncomfortable. Tom groaned, wether from arousal or frustration, he wasn't sure.

"Are you okay, Tom? Did I hurt you?" (Y/N) asked with concern.

Tom swallowed nervously. "No, don't worry. Your hands feel great."

She moved away from him, the weight of breasts gone and he breathed out in relief. That is, until he heard her climb onto the massage table with him.

What the-? It was then that he remembered what a Thai message entailed from a vague conversation he'd once had with Ben and Sophie.

Before he could come up with a way to get out of this... predicament, (Y/N) straddled his hips and all but sat down on his butt. His cock immediately reacted to change in pressure.

"You've got quite a knot here," she explained, softly rubbing her fingers near his spine, about halfway up his back. "I'm going to try and break up the knotted tissue. Tell me if it hurts too much."

It did hurt, the way the heel of her hand pressed against the sensitive area. But it definitely didn't hurt enough to kill his arousal. If anything, it made it worse with the way he felt her weight shift above him whenever she moved. Instead of relaxing, he was only growing more tense.

As Tom felt precum bead on his glans as she climbed off of him, having him feel equally disappointed and relieved when she went to work on his legs.

Her hands felt heavenly, sometimes painfully heavenly, as they moved over his calves. Not that it is eased his arousal, but Tom was confident that the massage was almost done and he'd soon be able to climb into the shower again and use the opportunity to wank himself to an orgasm.

He'd certainly think of her as he'd stroke his shaft later, imagining she was there with him. Water running down her body, rendering her obscene white t-shirt transparent, her nipples visibly pebbling even behind two layers of fabric. His cock seemed to enjoy his fantasy as well, now so hard that Tom seriously started considering rubbing himself on the towel draped over the table to find some relief.

His thoughts were interrupted when she moved over his knees, to his his thighs. Her delicate fingers folding back his shorts to reveal more of his legs. Tom jerked suddenly, trying to hide his erection from her hands and crushing it under his belly in the process. He winced.

Undoubtedly sensing Tom was tensing up again, (Y/N) made quick work of his thighs. Maybe he was a bit shy and didn't like being touched there, she reckoned, shrugging to herself to hide her disappointment. She'd always enjoyed her job, finding satisfaction in other people's well-being. But massaging Tom Hiddleston? She would have done it for free (don't tell her boss!).

"Please turn around, Tom." She said softly after finishing up the back of his legs

He startled. "What?!" Came his terrified voice.

(Y/N) frowned. "Can you please lie down on your back now? So that I can work on your chest and the front of your legs."

Tom stilled, silently panicking. "That won't be necessary. It's quite late and I'm feeling much better already."

"Nonsense. I won't leave you unfinished," she protested, his cock twisting her words. "Besides, my boss would kill me if she ever found out I left a client halfway through a massage."

His jaw clenched. He was torn between two equally bad options, but in the end, he inner gentleman couldn't stand to be the one to jeopardise her job.

Slowly, Tom turned around on the table, still hoping that his erection wouldn't be as noticeable as it felt but the tent in his shorts was impossible to hide, sticking straight up to the ceiling.

She stared at his face curiously, observing his reddening cheeks before lowering her gaze. "Oh," she gasped.

Somehow, part of him had hoped her reaction would have been less shocked and perhaps a bit more pleased. As it was, she just stood there like that and he threw his forearm over his eyes, hoping it would lessen the embarrassment. It didn't.Sighing, he made a move to get up, hesitating whether he should apologise before leaving or if that would only make things worse.

The weight shifted on the massage table as she climbed on top, joining him on the soft padding.

Instantly, Tom lifted his head off the pillow, holding himself up on his forearms, bewilderedly watching Y/N as she knelt between his legs. "What are you doing?" He asked, his voice croaky, his eyes glued to her décolleté which the neckline failed to hide in this position.

She looked up at him slowly, coyly, though her grin was nothing if not provocative. "Hoping to release all tension in your body," she replied, her tongue peeking through as her hands went to his hips, thumbs drawing circles over his shorts. "If you'll let me, that is."

Tom swallowed audibly, almost expecting her to throw her head back and start laughing. But she never did. Instead, she sat back on her haunches, waiting for him to consent. "God. Yes, please!" He breathed out, his British accent growing thicker.

(Y/N) licked her lips, fingers working behind her head to tighten her ponytail. "Now that's more like it, Mister Hiddleston."

Without missing a second, she bend forward, lowering her face to place a kiss on his stomach, just below his belly button. Tom's muscles tensed in response, already looking forward to what was to come.

He struggled between the desire to watch and the impulse to lean back and simply enjoy. She made the decision for him, her hand pressing down on his sternum before moving her attention back to his groin.

Tom hissed as he felt her lips kiss the head of his cock through the lightweight fabric. His body suddered, his cock throbbed and she chuckled. (Y/ N) repeated the process a few more times, enjoying the teasing. Then, she moved her fingers to the elastic waistband and pulled his shorts down, grazing his buttocks with her nails.

His cock sprang free, hitting his lower stomach a couple of times and Tom already felt a drop of precum slide down from the glans to his belly button. (Y/N) surprised him, first neglecting his weeping cock in favour of his balls, sucking them into her mouth one after the other, teasing them with the tip of her tongue.

Tom groaned her name, squirming beneath her and thrusting up. With a smile, (Y/N) decided to give in. She traced the tip of her nose along his length until reaching the head and then wrapped her tongue around the glans, teasing the frenulum. Tom moaned loudly

He felt her hand wrap around the base of his cock before she took him in her mouth, as much as would fit. Instantly, his hand settled on the back of her head, caressing instead of pushing. "Just like that, darling."

She took to humming around his length, intermittently sucking in her cheeks and Tom started feeling the telltale tightening in his groin faster than he should. His hand gripped her ponytail harder, alerting her but her movements didn't slow. Tom propped himself up on his elbows, groaning at the sinful sight of debauchery in front of him.

"I'm close," he managed to warn her through clenched teeth. (Y/N) looked up at him, never halting her movements and the mischievous look she addressed him revealed that she knew exactly what she was doing.

Tom dug his heels against the padding of the table, canting up his hips and thrusting up in her mouth as his orgasm washed over him. (Y/N)meticulously sucked him clean, swallowing down rope after rope of his cum whilst humming around him.

"God, (Y/N). That was..." For once he was left without words, still dizzy with pleasure in the aftermath of his orgasm.

She licked his cum off her lips, taking in the sight in front of her with a smile, acutely aware of her own arousal. Tom's chest was flushed, heaving as he fought to regain his breath, his eyes still closed.

It was only then that she realised what she had done. She had blown Tom Hiddleston - a client.

#tom hiddleston smut #tom hiddleston x reader #tom hiddleston #hiddleston smut #tom x reader #tom hiddleston one shot #smut #loki smut

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