#you might catch me doing a facial expression study one of these days
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
dovahbee · 9 months ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
“Trust me, I know what I’m doing” Astarion no. there’s no one I trust less INCLUDING the emperor.
137 notes · View notes
bobbiworks · 1 year ago
Text
Beyond the Bell's Chimes | Part 11
Written by: Bobbi Henderson (jayxhobi)
RIIZE fanfiction: Wonbin, Eunseok, Seunghan, Shotaro, Sohee, Sungchan, Anton, Original Characters
Genre: Teen Romance, High school, Friendship, Youth, Growing Up, Slice of Life
When Wonbin reached the exit of the school building, he noticed Jiwoo standing in the same spot as before. Seunghan also spotted her and was about to approach her, but Wonbin halted him. Perplexed by this, Seunghan frowned at his friend and decided to go over to Jiwoo, gently shoving Wonbin aside and walking straight to her.
Seunghan placed a reassuring hand on Jiwoo's shoulder, and she turned her head to see him, greeted by his friendly smile. "Hey," she softly spoke.
"It's been a while, hasn't it?" Seunghan remarked, standing next to her. "Who are you waiting for?" he inquired.
"No one," Jiwoo replied. "I just like to watch the school from here," she explained with a smile.
Seunghan then prodded, "So... how long are you going to stand here? An hour?"
Jiwoo nodded and said, "Hmm, it's a routine," as she turned to Seunghan, smiling at him. She then noticed Wonbin behind them and greeted him shyly, waving her hand. "Wonbin, hi."
Seunghan suddenly remembered the cookies Jiwoo had sent them. "Ahh, the cookies! We got them. They were delicious," he exclaimed. "Wonbin devoured them in one sitting!" Seunghan teased, attempting to engage his friend in the conversation. However, when Wonbin did join in, Jiwoo politely excused herself, seemingly avoiding him.
"You did something," Seunghan assumed, giving Wonbin a disapproving look.
"I didn't do anything," Wonbin retorted, brushing Seunghan's hand away from his shoulder.
"Really? Then why are you two so awkward?" Seunghan prodded.
"Why are you being so nosy? If she doesn't want to talk to me, then so be it!" Wonbin snapped angrily and walked away.
"Hey! I was just teasing!" Seunghan yelled after him and ran to catch up.
Wonbin had assumed he might not see Jiwoo again, but he was surprised when he noticed her walking with Shotaro, the guy who had delivered the cookies to them. They were engaged in a friendly conversation with big smiles on their faces. What caught Wonbin off guard was when Shotaro placed his hand on Jiwoo's head and gave her a gentle pat. This sight left him fuming, and he initially decided to ignore them. However, Shotaro noticed him and greeted him.
"Hey, Park Wonbin, right?" Shotaro asked. Wonbin stopped and continued to glare at them.
"Glad to see you here. Can I ask a favor? Can you walk Jiwoo to the bus stop? I really have to get back to the council," Shotaro requested.
Jiwoo politely declined, saying, "Shotaro, it's okay! You don't have to bother him."
Shotaro insisted, saying, "How come? Friends are friends. Just once, okay?" He turned to Wonbin and asked again.
Jiwoo tried to protest once more, but this time, Wonbin agreed to Shotaro's request. "Great!" Shotaro smiled. "Well, I'll see you later, Jiwoo!" He said and hurried back to the building, leaving Wonbin and Jiwoo in an awkward situation.
Jiwoo attempted to explain, saying, "You really don't have to—"
But Wonbin interrupted, unable to contain his annoyance any longer, "Are you avoiding me? You were sick and didn't go to school, and now you are avoiding me? Did I do something wrong?" This time, his voice softened.
Jiwoo felt embarrassed for causing Wonbin to think like that, realizing that she was the one who felt out of place when she returned. "It's nothing. Just a little bit distant," she mumbled.
"A little bit distant? You didn't talk to me the whole day," Wonbin added.
Jiwoo retorted, "You were glaring at me the entire day. I tried to greet you when you came, but you didn't see me." She shyly confessed.
"I did not expect you'd come back," he explained with a sigh. "How are you feeling now? What happened to you?" He asked.
"I got sick," Jiwoo said.
"Are you fine now?" Wonbin inquired, studying her facial expressions and actions just in case he needed to analyze what she meant by the things she said. "I need to know because you are making me worried... as a friend," he added the last three words, causing Jiwoo to chuckle.
"I'm okay now," she reassured him. Then there was a brief silence between them as they looked around for a few seconds before Wonbin spoke again.
"Shall we go?" He asked.
"Go where?" She blinked.
"Go home, take the bus together," Wonbin replied.
Unbeknownst to Wonbin, Jiwoo's heart began to race, yet she remained quiet and poker-faced. She hadn't had a friend like Wonbin before, especially considering that most of the boys in her previous class had always thought she was strange and treated her differently.
As they walked to the bus stop, Jiwoo couldn't stop herself from being curious.
"Wonbin," she spoke softly, making the boy turn his head to her with a small smile. "Why are you nice to me? You didn't like me before, right?"
He blinked, taken aback by her question, and accidentally looked into her eyes, almost choking on his saliva. "Hmm... Because you are different."
His answer didn't seem to be what he truly meant, which made Jiwoo confused. She already knew that she was different, and she wanted to hear a different answer. "Tell me honestly," she said. "You find me pretty, right?" She grinned and began to laugh.
"Huh? Being different and pretty are miles apart," Wonbin retorted, stopping Jiwoo from laughing.
"But seriously? Because I am different from others? You know for sure that everyone is different in their own way. Right?" Jiwoo asked him.
"I know," Wonbin replied. "It's just that you are..." He paused, looking at her before suddenly stretching his arm and placing it on her forehead to prevent her from accidentally hitting her head on a lamppost. She almost hurt herself by not watching where she was going. "Watch where you're going..."
Jiwoo froze and saw his hand covering her forehead. Her heart began to race again as she looked at him.
"Why is he so bright?"
"Are you okay?" Wonbin asked.
She nodded absentmindedly, and Wonbin retracted his hand, smirking as he found it funny that she almost hurt her forehead again.
"Our bus is here," he said, standing in line ahead of her but stepping aside to give her way. "Ladies first," he teased.
Jiwoo hated it because it made her heart excited, knowing that Wonbin was just being nice to her.
Wonbin sat next to her. It was the first time she was able to look at Wonbin's face behind those bangs that covered half of his face, not to mention the beanie he had been wearing since day one.
"What?" Wonbin asked, seeing how Jiwoo stared at him with so much judgment in her eyes. "Is something on my face?" He inquired.
She shook her head, "Why are you wearing this?" She pointed at his beanie.
"Why?" Wonbin asked. "Is it bad?"
"Not at all. Just curious," she replied, waving her hand dismissively. "It's okay if you don't want to ans—"
"Kind of trying to not attract attention," he replied shyly. Jiwoo squinted her eyes at him upon hearing his answer. He chuckled, seeing her funny reaction. "What?"
"You sure are his best friend," Jiwoo replied, thinking about the saying that birds of a feather flock together. Wonbin chuckled, dropping his head down to hide his laughter. "It's annoying to hear that," she pouted.
"I do know that I am handsome, but I don't like attention very much," he explained. "Besides, it always gets me in trouble."
"Trouble with girls?" Jiwoo asked, and he hesitantly nodded, which made her wince in annoyance due to his cockiness. "Oh god, so annoying," she softly laughed, pinching her nose bridge.
"Have you ever thought that wearing a beanie might attract more attention than you really think?" She asked him. Her comment made Wonbin think for a moment before acknowledging her statement. "Besides, you take it off only during Mr. Park's class, and you are in front. And maybe, just maybe... people think you might be obnoxious?" She asked.
"O-Obnoxious?" He stammered.
She nodded, "Just like Seunghan. He knows he is absolutely good-looking and loves to smother it to everyone he knows."
"Because it is Seunghan. Seunghan is Seunghan," Wonbin replied, slightly annoyed after being called obnoxious by her. "And me, I am Park Wonbin."
She smiled sweetly at him, her eyes almost beaming. "Yeah, Wonbin is Wonbin," she agreed, causing a disturbance in Wonbin's chest as he abruptly shifted his eyes away from her.
"Are you okay with changes?" he suddenly asked. He felt that question was necessary to ask at that moment. Jiwoo smiled, but it was sadder than he could imagine. He mentally slapped his head for being inconsiderate of her feelings.
"I hate it," Jiwoo replied. Her arms crossed over her chest. "But we can't stop it, no matter what," she continued.
He nodded, understanding what she said. In fact, he agreed with it wholeheartedly, but he still couldn't accept it.
"Until now, I haven't accepted any of those changes yet," she said. Wonbin turned to look at her and realized that Jiwoo was having her own struggles, making him feel bad for being annoyed with her. His eyes then shifted to her hands resting on her lap. He suddenly felt his throat go dry, just thinking about holding her hand. He had vaguely forgotten how her hand felt, and for that moment, he wanted to hold it. His hands clenched, unsure whether to do it or not. He took a deep breath and mustered up the courage to grab her hand or at least touch it. However, Jiwoo suddenly moved and got up.
"My stop is here," she said.
"Huh? Y-Yeah. Be careful," Wonbin said.
"You too, Wonbin," she smiled and waved her hand goodbye. "See you tomorrow," she added before finally getting off the bus.
He waved back and sighed in defeat, berating himself for thinking such thoughts. He then looked to his right and saw an old man staring at him in great disappointment.
7 notes · View notes
phobia-sweets · 2 years ago
Text
"Can I request a DK!Crane x fem!reader soulmate au fic where he realizes his soulmate is one of his patients?"
more catching up!
I love soulmate prompts so much, and i went with the one where when you write or draw something on your skin, it shows up on your soulmate's skin too :D
DK! Scarecrow x F!reader
∼ 500 words
Warnings & Notes: Not proofread (properly. quickly checked for typos and grammar lol)
Soulmates.
He truly thought he didn't have one.
Until the writing began.
He woke up one morning, did his routine, only to see a "good morning!" Scribbled onto his wrist. He hadn't written that - he'd remember doing that. Also that wasn't his handwriting. He lived alone. Where did it come from?
Then the things started connecting. Yes, it made sense that he had a soulmate - everyone had one, right? But... why? He couldn't grasp it. He hesitantly picked up a marker, thinking of responding, only to put it back down. If he doesn't acknowledge it, it'll eventually go away, right? He didn't have time for this. Maybe they'll give up with time.
They didn't.
Every morning without fail, he'd see some form of a greeting on his wrist. "Good morning!", "Have a great day!", "Hope you're well!" and so on. As the days went on, the messages never stopped. A presistent one, he thought, glancing at the small heart next to today's message - "hope you slept well!". Pulling the sleeve over the message, Jonathan's thoughts were interrupted by the knocking on his office door. Giving a quick "come in", He adjusted in his seat and put on his glasses.
"Good afternoon, Doctor Crane!" The woman greeted as she entered the room.
Ah. He had forgotten about this appointment entirely. Good thing he didn't leave to the basement yet. "Good morning, Ms. [Lastname]. Take a seat."
near the end of the session, he caught a glimpse of his patient's wrist, making him tense up at the familiar handwriting. "Your wrist, let me see it. Is this your writing?" He asked, to which the woman properly lifted off their sleeve, the writing now in full display.
"Yes." She smiled.
"Soulmate not answering?" He raised a brow, leaning back in his chair.
"Nope. Don't mind it, though. They'll reply when they're ready to. I do hope they bring some sort of comfort to them though, knowing I’m there for them." She calmly stated, pulling the sleeve back on top of the words.
"Does it not make you upset they're not responding? Sad? afraid that they might not exist?" He tried, closely studying her facial expressions now.
“I mean… sometimes, I suppose.” She responded, leaning back in her chair. “But I try to be positive about that.” She didn’t seem to question Jonathan’s interest in said soulmate, much to his luck.
“That’s… good.” He hummed, averting his gaze from her. He’d ask her more about it next session. Can’t have her growing suspicious just yet, he thought.
“It seems we’ve run out of time. Same time, next week, I’m assuming?” Jonathan questioned, to which the woman nodded. “Allright then. Take care.”
Watching the door close behind her, he took off his glasses. Burying his face in his hands, he sighed. The situation had become far more complicated than he had anticipated initially. He didn’t know how to feel, really. Taking his suitcase, he left for the basement. He really needed the distraction.
112 notes · View notes
krsonmar · 3 years ago
Text
You're all driving me wiggedy-wack thinking The Slap was the big clue in the Sire episode. You're so close--sooo close!--it's right next to it in that scene!! "Nandor's testing Guillermo hurr durr and his facial expression is him figuring out the hypnosis didn't work huuuurrrmpamcakes"…Nandor might once have been a military strategist, maybe…700 years ago, if his "strategy" wasn't just brute force (his epithet isn't Nandor the Subtle Manipulator, guys)…but these days our adorable himbo is a little more reminiscent of a menopausal church lady who just dropped the casserole she's been slaving over for a week right outside the Bible study group meeting room's doorway than a paragon of stoicism or gravitas, and when he can get up the motivation to rub two neurons together hard enough that they put a dent in his depression inertia, he comes up with stuff like the Doug Peterson hypnosis attempt. He's a dear and I love him to little bitsy pieces, but Ender Wiggin he is not, if he ever was.
The moment there that you need to notice is not Nandor's reaction to The Slap…it's Colin's. Yes, he's feeding off the drama, but in the moment of the attempt to entice The Sire with our favorite thirst-trap vampire-slayer's slick booty-shaking moves, Colin encourages him, "Yeah, Guillermo, shake your money-maker!"
So? What's that got to do with anything?
That, my friends, is a test coming back conclusive. That is a Chekov's gun being fired.
When the vampires think they're hypnotizing Guillermo not to hurt them, right before they finish the spell and break off the connection…Colin adds in that whenever he says Guillermo's name, Guillermo has to meow like a cat. He tests it as soon as Guillermo "wakes up"…and Guillermo plays along and meows to keep the illusion against them all going.
Gun on the mantlepiece.
When The Slap happens, the characters are all too shocked in that instant to put the pieces together…including Nandor, whose blood is not flowing into the head that's on his shoulders at the moment, if you catch my drift. But Colin has always been a little more "with it" than the bloodsuckers, and when he eggs Guillermo on later, he doesn't call him Gizmo…and Guillermo, busy with other things, forgets to meow.
Pow. The gun's been fired.
The interesting thing is that if Colin has indeed purposely tested the efficacy of the hypnosis here, he knows it didn't work…and he appears to keep it to himself. By the time Guillermo himself spills the beans to Nandor during the fight, Colin has conveniently been dead for an episode or so, seemingly taking the secret to his grave. Except, of course, that he doesn't have one, he reincarnates. And with that weird, middle-aged head on an infant's body, too! Which visually suggests some kind of continuity between Colin's lives; is he the same Colin, or a completely blank slate? Does some "essence" remain of his previous self? Or maybe…some memories? Will Colin 2.0 have any recollection that Guillermo is immune to vampiric hypnosis? If so, will he continue keeping that a secret? Why or why not? And if he did have this figured out prior to being rebooted in his meatspace form, why might he have chosen not to say anything? That could go either way: was he keeping that in his back pocket strategically, or out of goals that might not have been self-serving?
Never trust the accountant dude, guys…he keeps all the books and knows where everything does or doesn't add up!
Tumblr media
72 notes · View notes
moririki · 3 years ago
Text
⤷ MORE THAN YOU'D BARGAIN FOR
Tumblr media
DENJI X READER -> 1.7K
when it comes to a fool blinded by love, it sure hurts to have the short end of the stick
Tumblr media
REQUEST -> ✰
CONTAINS -> angst, friends with benefits‼️, happy ending bc i'm weak like that, denji not knowing how to process emotions, very loose college!au cos i'm lazy, makima being slightly antagonised because fuck her, mentions of sex but nothing super explicit i don't think
MORI'S THOUGHTS -> thinking about denji's hands. i want to learn how to animate manga panels now so i can do a csm edit. also the writing style got kinda boring im SORRY
Tumblr media
HEARTBREAK WAS ALWAYS BOUND TO HAPPEN IN THESE SORT OF RELATIONSHIPS. anyone with a pair of eyes and ears could give a clear answer to the question "who does denji like?" and no matter how much you wanted that answer to change, it would never be you.
even when the blonde boy had been so insistent on his heart belonging to another, he still had urges. so under the influence of one too many bottles of alcohol, it was a fairly easy decision for both of you to fall into bed together. more than once. more than you'd care to admit.
being with denji was nice. he was funny, sweet at times and vulgar during the others, and you found yourself repeating a mantra of don't catch feelings for your friend during your time together. and truth be told, it was hard not to, even when you and denji had finished your business and the topic of conversation always seemed to make its way back to makima.
it left a bitter taste in your mouth when denji acted like nothing had happened between the pair of you in other settings. the bitterness turned sour when you realised that there was no reason for him to have to either, and you cursed yourself when you realised you had done the worst thing possible and gone and fallen for your friend who so clearly wouldn't like you back.
but there were times where you thought that you just might have a chance.
even though your cursed your heart for fluttering and rearing its head each time so willingly at denji's mercy, you couldn't help but take every offhand action of his as a ray of hope. with the way his hands engulfed yours to anchor himself as he thrusted into you, the way his lips left urgent kisses on your lips as you panted beneath him, the way he whispered sweet nothings into your ear as you cried out in ecstasy.
and even when you were lying next to each other in his bed, catching your breath. you would turn to look at his face sometimes, only to see him staring at you already with a look in his eyes that could only be described as wistful. but you were a fool to think that you could ever upseat makima in denji's eyes.
false hope could only get you so far.
with his breath tickling the back of your neck and his large hand rubbing patterns into your hip, this false hope really had gotten you somewhere. but all good things must come to an end. words that you dreaded to say weighed heavy on your tongue, but you dragged yourself along, lifting them just enough to feel them escape your lips before you could really stop them.
"denji, what are we?"
you felt the hand that rested on you go still, and the arm that was poised as a pillow for you went rigid. hell, the boy that was holding you so close to his chest had practically stopped breathing, and you felt your eyelids slide shut in a bitter defeat before you heard another word. it's not like you needed them to understand how he felt, anyway.
"we're friends, aren't we?" his tone was so controlled, so even and level and unlike the denji that you knew and, dare you say it, loved. it sent another shot tubneling straight through your heart, and you were glad that you were currently facing away from him. you wouldn't be able to handle seeing the look on his face as all of your tentative hopes were crushed under his heel. all you wanted to do was curl in on yourself and maybe try to cry away the numbness that was invading your body from the chest outward.
you raised a shaking hand to push denji's own off of you, and you felt the mattress underneath you creak as the boy shifted in confusion at your behaviour.
"y/n?"
your kept your back turned to him as you got out of his bed, pulling on your own clothed and scowling in frustration when you couldn't find your shirt anywhere. you were seconds away from letting the first droplets fall, and you did not want to let denji see.
you snagged some random material of a shirt off of the bedroom floor, yanking it over your head and turning to face denji with a face that you hoped wasn't too scrunched from holding back your tears.
"we're not just friends and you fucking know it."
you didn't have time to register his wounded facial expression or the pleading calls of your name that he cast towards your retreating figure, but you grabbed your shoes before leaving his dorm, shutting the door behind you a little too forcefully and storming off back to your own room.
you must look insane, padding along the halls with no shoes as angry tears streaked down your face and you tried your best not to audibly sob. by the time you had made it back to your room your eyes were streaming, and you flopped on your bed with little regard for anything else other than crying your eyes out.
Tumblr media
truth be told, after that fateful night and the best cry of your life you felt much better. you knew where you stood, you had your feelings sorted out, and you knew that a little distance would really help you to finally move on from your friend.
now, if only denji would stop calling and texting you like nothing had happened.
you felt like you could scream when you saw a notification from him, asking if you wanted to study for the test that you had next week. you bit back the petty urge to ask him if he wanted to study with you as just friends, instead opting to turn your phone off and bury your face in your pillow once again.
matters of the heart take time, after all.
on denji's end, things weren't looking much better. he brushed off his confusion at your actions and words when you had left so abruptly the other day, only to find himself staring at his ceiling trying to decipher his feelings and what the hell you had meant.
he likes makima. and he has, for a while now. he could count on one hand the amount of times he had interacted with the girl who sat in front of him in the lecture hall, and every time had been met with this strange giddy feeling in his chest. though it was rare, he knew that feeling.
but the one he felt right now was so, so, different. when the door clicked shut behind you, it felt like a piece of him had up and left along with you. the very reason that he had accelerated things so far in your relationship was because of how right things felt with you. the slightest graze of your fingertips across his chest didn't light any fireworks in his mind, but it's like warmth perforated his skin and was injected straight into him from you.
truth be told, that feeling was the most addicting he had ever felt. and when he heard that air of finality right after the door shut behind you, it didn't take long for denji to realise just how cold everything felt without you.
but he still liked makima, right?
that giddy feeling in his chest he got from her was enough to fill the you-shaped hole, right?
you not talking to him wasn't what made his heart hurt, right?
he only realised just how wrong he had it when he talked to makima for the fourth time ever. she had turned in her seat, even smiling at him and asking for a pen, and all that came to mind was how much he missed your smile.
hell, he missed everything. the sound of your laugh, the smell of your hair. the way you fit against him and said his name. and that's when he realised this you-related feeling was.
longing.
Tumblr media
there was a knock on your door. and another. you groaned, rolling over to check the time to see that it was three in the morning.
by the time you had cracked your door open you saw a flash of blond hair and a face all-too-familiar, you knew it was too late to slam your door shut. denji's face perked up, and you already knew that you were done for.
he lifted his hand, revealing a pretty albeit crumpled bouquet of flowers. you almost giggled to yourself, guessing that the mastermind of that romantic gesture was most likely denji's roommate aki. but it was appreciated, nonetheless.
"what do you want, denji?" you were painfully aware of just how much of a mess you looked right now- eyes still red around the rim from how many self-pitying tears you had shed over this entire situation.
denji's mouth and opened and closed, and you sighed against your barely open door which still had a chain on it.
"i'm not in the mood, denji."
"no, no, it's just that i wanted to say that i've finally figured out what we are." it appears tgat your friend finally found his voice. you looked him in the eye again, trying not to let the hope in your heart build itself too high. "we're way more than friends, y/n."
you felt any resistance crumble at those words, and the sheepish smile on your face grew.
"so, can i come in?" you smiled at denji, shutting your door to undo the latch before opening it again, wide enough to let him back in to your life. consider him a weakness of yours.
the first thing denji did when he crossed the threshold of your door was wrap his arms around you, dried tears and crumpled flowers and all, and bury his face in your hair. the only words he had to offer was a mumbled i miss you into your skin, and you felt your body melt against him like it had so many times before.
when you finally broke apart, you couldn't help but wonder.
"so, what are the flowers for denji?" the boy before you blushed, his eyes flitting off to the side. he raised a hand to the back of his neck, taking a breath to summon some courage.
"i was hoping... that i could take you out on a date. or be your boyfriend. something like that."
"what?" denji was still bright red, though his eyes were locked onto yours.
"you heard me." you smiled once again, taking a step forwards and effectively closing the distance between you two.
"i would love to."
Tumblr media
take a look at the menu - ,, ⚖️ ·˚ ༘ ꒱
849 notes · View notes
streetlight11 · 4 years ago
Text
Till I Met You Again
Tumblr media
Summary: Everyone is born with a life already planned out for them. Including their soulmates. Except, every person walking this earth has been given a specific soulmate marking that was similar to a tattoo to match their soulmate’s. The ink is invisible when one is born. To activate the soulmate marking, one has to be at least in a 20 feet radius to their designated soulmate. But of course, they wouldn’t know it until they start to notice the ink slowly appearing on their skin.
Theme: soulmate au, university au, enemies to lovers
Genre: angst, fluff
Warning: mild cursing
WC: 10k
Pairing: Soulmate!Yoongi x Fem!Reader
a/n: Hello! I kinda got too carried away in writing this one the other day, hence the word count for this is... woah. Hehe. But anyways, here's a soulmate au for you Min Yoongi lovers <3
Tumblr media
Every person who was born into this earth has their life journey already written out for them in which it unfortunately remains a secret from them. And these living souls have been entitled to a soulmate that would potentially cross their path in the near future. Everyone is made for someone and the tattoo on their skin otherwise known as a ‘soulmate marking’ determines it for them.
The soulmate marking is nothing far from a tattoo as it imprints on your skin for eternity.
However, these markings will already be on you the minute you were born. Except, the ink will be invisible to the human eye.
But it’s definitely there. The only way to activate the marking is when one happens to be of 20 foot radius with their designated soulmate. This will cause the ink to start slowly appearing on one’s skin. Even so, these markings will start only when one has reached the age of 14. Only then will the ink start to be visible to one’s eye.
Unfortunately, until now when you’re already past 20 years of age, not a single tinge of ink was displayed on your skin. You’ve checked everywhere on your body. From your fingertips to your toes.
Nothing.
You weren’t really one who purely believed in this whole soulmate thing simply because you felt that there’s no such thing as a fixed soulmate. You should be free to choose who you want as your partner purely through interactions and chemistry you shared with the other, not by some marking on your skin. Your parents had a matching mark on their right wrists which was a simple rose in a glass jar.
No doubt you admired their love story and how they met, but you couldn’t see it for yourself. You really don’t want to fully depend on this supposed marking. Even when you went off to college, you’ve made it a point to try and go on dates no matter what their soulmate markings would be.
But it all turned out with the same ending. Either the guy dumps you for not having the same mark or they ghost you after the first date, saying you’re too good for them. All these never led to a heartbreak on your end because you were never in love to begin with.
You were simply trying your luck, trying to see if you’d find a single soul who was just as sceptical as you on this whole soulmate thing.
And so far, you’ve met none.
Tumblr media
It was the start of university life for you as you’ve managed to enrol yourself for a Computer Science major in Hangang University. You took the same course during college, having interest in web design and computer technologies. You could only hope that the study load this time would give you a mental break every once in a while despite knowing the content is definitely heavier than college content.
But you still told yourself to persevere and never leave your knowledge hanging while you’re still young. With this mentality, you brought yourself to campus today for day one of university classes.
Taking a deep breath, you pushed the door to the specific lecture room for the first lesson.
Immediately, you were greeted by a room that had the majority of the students’ gender being males. But it wasn’t a surprise to you because CS majors tend to lean more towards males instead of females. This doesn’t bother you since you were here solely to study and perhaps make friends along the way.
You found an empty seat in the top last few rows. With careful steps, you climbed the stairs to make your way to the spot you had your eyes locked on. After you’ve settled down, you noted how the room was fairly quiet.
Probably because it was the first day of classes and nobody really knows each other yet. That was all pushed to the back of your mind when you heard chatting coming from the front door and you saw 2 friends walk in. It was pretty obvious they knew each other considering how they were laughing and talking freely to one another.
As you kept your curious gaze on them discreetly, you could only realise how good looking they were.
The taller one sported beautiful dark brown locks that were long enough to cover his eyes, his smile so charming you were sure anyone who crossed his path would fall for his smile in less than a second. And then there was the other one who sported a more edgy look with his shorter dark purple, undercut hair that was parted near the centre to show his forehead, a right eyebrow piercing to compliment his face.
You quickly diverted your gaze to your laptop screen, not wanting them to think you’re a creep. You were busy searching for the e-books for this lesson in your online school portal when you heard a gentle voice calling to you from your right.
“Hey, are these seats taken?”
You looked up to see the one with the eyebrow piercing staring at you with the softest smile on his face.
In response to his question, you simply mimicked his facial expression and shook your head at him. He thanked you quietly before the 2 of them settled down beside you down the row. They resumed their conversation for the next 3 minutes before the lecturer walked in to start the class.
Two hours later, you don’t even know how you managed to absorb the things your lecturer said but you did. You were typing out the notes he shared on the projector screen when you heard his voice through the speakers.
“I will let you go for your lunch break. Be back by 1pm, here. You can leave your bags behind since I will be locking the room once everyone leaves.”
With that, your classmates replied with a series of yes before they got up one by one ready to head for lunch. You were just typing out the last of your notes when the boy beside you spoke up. At first you thought he was talking to his friend. You completely missed the way he was turned to you.
Until he gently taps onto your forearm to tell you that his question was directed to you. With a turn of your head, you locked eyes with him for the second time that day. “H-Huh?” You stuttered, earning a stifled chuckle from him.
“I was saying, do you wanna join me and my friends for lunch? We’re already sharing classes, might as well get to know each other to prepare for future projects or assignments.” He kindly repeated himself for you, making you whisper a soft ‘oh’ under your breath.
It wasn’t like you to approach someone first when it comes to striking a conversation with a complete stranger. So when he did it for you, it surprised you that he even thought of letting you tag along with them to lunch. For this alone, you decided to accept his offer knowing he does have a point for that last statement.
With that being said, the three of you left the lecture room after bringing your wallets with you. You quietly followed beside the brown haired one as they immediately opened a topic for their conversation.
You were just checking your phone for the texts sent from your mom in your family group chat when a voice spoke up, addressing you directly.
“What’s your name?” You glance up to catch the one who asked the question was the brown haired one, as the purple haired one was already looking at you but it wasn’t intimidating in any way. So you found it easy to reply to them.
“Y/N.” You said as they all nodded only for the boy beside you to speak up. “Nice to meet you Y/N. I’m Taehyung. This is Jungkook.”
And so you know.
After almost 10 minutes of walking, you finally arrived at the cafeteria located on the other side of campus from where you originally were. The cafeteria was filled with hungry students and occupied tables. This wasn’t something new but at times like these, you’d rather bring your own food and sit somewhere that’s less crowded and bustling.
Just when you were about to excuse yourself and get a take out instead, Taehyung’s voice sounded from beside you, “Hyung said he found a table for us. They’re at the side near the drink stall.” He addressed it to the Jungkook in particular.
Hyung? Found a table? Did their other friends go to this same campus too?
You thought to yourself as Taehyung soon led the three of you around the cafeteria with you following behind them like a lost puppy.
You were busy looking at the available food stalls around when you were stopped by the voices that called out to the 2 boys’ names. Curious eyes wandered over their figures to see just who their other friends were and you were met with a table filled with relatively handsome guys.
There were 3 guys seated at that table, happily welcoming Taehyung and Jungkook. Just when you thought they had forgotten you, Jungkook turns around to show you to his friends.
“If you guys don’t mind, we made a new friend this morning and we invited her to join us for lunch. Her name is Y/N.” Jungkook announced as the three boys smiled at you warmly.
“Hey Y/N. I’m Namjoon, this is Seokjin and Hoseok. It’s nice to meet you.” Namjoon said as he stretched his hand out for you to shake in which you obliged. You definitely didn’t miss the intricate design of a floral arrow lining his inner forearm. That must’ve been his soulmate marking. You soon found yourself seated next to Hoseok and Jungkook after buying your meal.
You were chewing your noodles when Taehyung spoke up to catch everyone at that table’s attention, “Where are they? Shouldn’t their class be over already?”
“Apparently they just ended 5 minutes ago. Minie told me they’re on their way now.” Seokjin replied.
Who were the ‘they’ Taehyung was referring to?
Were there more of their friends?
Oh great.
You refocused on your food, taking a bite out of the chicken meat as you listened to their ‘first day of university’ story. You found out that Namjoon was a Psychology major, Hoseok was a Dance major and Seokjin was a Culinary major.
You were currently staring at the pile of vegetables that Taehyung so kindly transfers into your bowl, after he asked around on who wants the boiled carrots and broccoli to which you said yes.
Taehyung was passing you every last bit of vegetable to your bowl when a sweet voice spoke up from the end of the table nearest to Namjoon and Seokjin.
“Finally! I thought you’d never make it for lunch.” Namjoon laughed as you heard a much raspier voice speak up from the same spot.
“I wouldn’t miss lunch for the world.” You heard the others laugh when Taehyung finally finished clearing his plate off the vegetables before turning to the newcomers to say his hellos.
“Oh, by the way, we have a new addition to our circle. She’s in Taehyung and Jungkook’s class so they tagged her along for lunch.” Seokjin announced as he reached his arm behind Taehyung to place a soft hand on the top of your right shoulder. You finally looked up from your bowl to see who the newcomers were.
The first guy you locked eyes with had cute puffy cheeks, sporting a pretty dark blue hair colour as his bangs framed his face nicely.
“Oh hello. I’m Jimin.”
You smiled shyly at him before your eyes naturally travelled to the other individual standing right beside Jimin and that’s when you frowned.
Unsurprisingly, the male did too.
His hair was an ash grey colour that parted at the side to show his forehead instead of letting it cover his eyebrows like Hoseok’s did. He had a few piercings on each ear. If his physique was unrecognizable to you, at least his face was. You knew exactly who he was without having to ask him for confirmation.
“Yoongi?” His name rolled off your tongue effortlessly in a whisper, stirring reactions from the rest of them.
“Wait, you know each other?” Jimin asked in confusion as his eyes travelled back and forth between you and Yoongi. That’s when you heard the other scoff before locking his eyes with you.
“Never thought I’d see you again after all these years.” His expression was dry and almost unwelcoming unlike the smiles his other friends gave you upon your first meeting. “Never wished for this day to come either but here we are…” You said sarcastically.
The tension was so thick, you were sure you would have to cut it with a knife instead of a scissors.
You broke the gaze by standing up, claiming you’ve lost your appetite.
“I’ll see you guys in class.” You said, directing your words to your classmates before you snatched your phone and wallet off the table top along with your tray of food to return. With a quick glance to Yoongi, you ignored his burning glare as you shoved past him by the shoulders causing him to stumble back a little.
The table fell quiet as Seokjin was the first to break the awkward silence, “Well, that was unexpected.” Yoongi scoffed as he left the table to go buy his food, not bothering to wait for Jimin as his mind was clouded with the thought of you being in his circle of friends.
The history of you two goes way back when you were in both pre and high school. Your first ever dispute with him was in preschool, all because you were both fighting over the crayon box. And then gradually, more fights would happen over silly little things. It came to a point where your teacher would have to separate you from each other.
Your disputes continued after you found out that he just so happened to join the same high school as you, let alone the same class. It only made things worse. You two would bicker and fight almost everyday like a married couple.
Your friends teased you often with him for the amount of fights you got into with him. They’ve even grown accustomed to the harsh comments you had thrown to each other on a daily basis.
Not a day goes by without either him stepping on your tail or you having a payback for all the pranks he did on you to get you worked up. And yet, just when you thought you were free from seeing the devil himself again, life has its way with you and it bothers you to the core at this very instant.
Tumblr media
Your lecturer arrived back at the lecture room 15 minutes before 1pm and it seemed like everyone else was still having lunch. All except you. “You’re here early? Have you had your lunch?” He asked as he proceeded to unlock the room while you lingered behind him, standing up after you saw him approaching from afar.
“Yeah, I did.” You smiled, stepping back into the room after he pushed the door open. You climbed the stairs again to where your belongings were, taking out your air pods to bury yourself in music.
Shutting out the world around as you rested your head in your arms on the table. You didn’t notice the people strolling into the lecture room, too busy drowning yourself in your own little bubble. All of it soon came crumbling when you felt a soft tap on your shoulder.
That’s when you look up to see the 2 of them back in their seats.
You glanced ahead to see that the lecturer had already flashed the new slides onto the projector screen which indicates the start of class again. So you took out your air pods and kept them in its case before tossing it into your bag.
Class resumed and your messy thoughts were shoved to the back of your mind, far away from your main focus right now which was your class.
After a dreadful 4 hours of lessons, your lecturer finally calls it a day. He reminded all of you to be punctual for class tomorrow, saying that he has some group discussions for the topic he would be teaching. Once everyone was dismissed, you kept your stuff back into your bag quietly.
You could tell the two boys were waiting for you since they hadn't moved a muscle from beside you despite already standing up and were just leaning against the table while they chatted. The minute you stood up, they pushed themselves off the table and only then did they start walking down the steps.
The three of you made it to ground level thanks to the operating lift, making your way to the parking lot that was right beside the campus entrance.
You were just talking to Jungkook about your hobbies when you noticed a group of 5 guys gathered at the steps of the campus grounds through your peripheral vision. You could only guess it was their friends due to the voice that calls out to those walking with you. They led you towards the bunch as you glanced over to everyone but him.
“Hey Y/N, how did you come here this morning?” Namjoon asked, his voice nothing but sincere.
“Public transport.” You said simply with a smile directed towards him, only for Seokjin to speak up, “Do you need a ride home? I can drive you?”
With that being said, you kindly shook your head with a smile, not wanting to offend him in any way for turning his offer down. “It’s fine, I can manage on my own. Thanks for the offer though. Maybe next time.” You said as you bid the rest of them goodbye, not bothering to look at the very person you’ve held your grudge on for years.
They watched as you turned in your heels and left, deadpanning your way to the front gates. Jimin sighed lightly before turning to Yoongi and asked for answers on why you and him weren’t on good terms.
But the latter only brushed Jimin off, saying he would explain some other time.
The rest of them soon dispersed to their own vehicles to head home after a long and tiring first day of university.
Tumblr media
As more days began to pass, you were sometimes dragged by either one of your 2 classmates to hang out with their friends and girlfriends. If you weren’t mistaken, half of them already found their soulmates and were currently in a relationship with them. While the remaining half were still finding for theirs because it was either their soulmate markings had appeared on their skin but very faintly, or there was none at all.
But the amount of times you’ve recalled hanging out with them during the past three months were countable with your fingers. You avoided having lunch with them often ever since you found out Yoongi was in their circle. You didn’t want to seem petty but it seems like he too hated having you around.
Which means that the feelings were mutual on both ends.
It was a pretty warm day so right after you arrived back at your apartment, you headed straight for the showers. Slipping into the shower stream the minute your clothes were discarded.
The cold stream coating your shoulder down with it’s nice, cooling temperature to ease out the warmth in your body.
After you finished your shower, you took your towel from the rack and proceeded to wipe yourself dry. Stepping out of the cubicle, you walked over to the sink counter where your large mirror was glued onto the wall. As you were ruffling your hair with the towel to rid the excess water, you noticed something on your left rib through the reflection.
Is that…?
You glanced down at your skin to see a very faint outline of something on your skin. You blinked twice, not believing this.
When did it start showing?
Your mind was going feral at the thought of seeing your soulmate marking finally make its appearance onto your skin. Who was the cause of this? Why did it only appear now after all these years? If that’s the case then it means that your soulmate is someone from school.
“What am I thinking? This is all a load of crap. I can date whoever I want no matter what marking they have.” You said to no one in particular as you changed into your home attire.
A few days later, you were just in class alone in the morning. Taehyung and Jungkook had yet to arrive when a sudden voice from beside you made you jump. A soft curse emitted from your throat as you clutched to your chest from the minor heart attack. You turned to find one of your classmates whom you recalled his name to be Hanbin, towering over you to your left.
“Hey, I’m Hanbin.” He smiled at you, feeling your stomach get warm upon seeing him up close for the first time.
“Hey… I’m Y/N.”
“I don’t mean to be creepy or weird, but I’ve kind of noticed you going for lunch alone these days instead of with your friends?” He asked as he rubbed the back of his neck nervously. You somehow knew where this was going.
“Right… Well, that is true I suppose.” You chuckled awkwardly, looking away from him briefly before turning your attention back to him.
“I see. Well, if you’re looking for company, you can go for lunch with me?” He said it more like a statement instead of a question and that in itself made you smile. You had just accepted his kind offer when you heard familiar voices approaching to where you were seated.
Hanbin’s eyes glanced past your shoulder only to flicker back to you, setting a reminder before he left.
“Lunch with me later, yeah?”
You gave him a soft nod as a smile crept onto your lips. At the same time, you felt the soft nudge to your right elbow. You already knew who’s the culprit. “Wasn’t that Hanbin? What did he say to you?” Taehyung asked as he took a seat beside you.
“He asked me to go for lunch with him.”
“So you agreed?”
“Mhm.”
“You wanna go for lunch with him but not us?” Taehyung asked with a pout, only for Jungkook to lean over and ask what was going on. You could only roll your eyes at them, not actually annoyed or anything. Just a reflex whenever someone tried to get your sympathy over something stupid.
“Give me a break. I’m not sharing a table with ‘you know who’. Wouldn’t wanna accidentally break the table with our arguments.” You flashed him a sarcastic smile that made him click his tongue at you in disbelief.
It has been two months since you first went to lunch with Hanbin and you have been doing that ever since. You noticed that his demeanour was starting to change too around you, maybe there was a mutual feeling settling in between the two of you after all.
It was a Saturday afternoon and you already made plans with Hanbin a week prior. He wanted to bring you out on a date to the amusement park and then maybe grab some supper before heading home. He picked you up at your apartment that evening in his jeep, looking quite handsome if you say so yourself.
The two of you spent the evening together, adrenaline rushing through you thanks to the rides you took. After enjoying yourselves at the amusement park, you were both tired from having fun so he offered to stop by and grab supper with you before sending you home.
You ended up getting fast food at the diner downtown. You were happy. You were grateful that he was nothing but sweet to you. But for some reason, deep down there was that voice in you that was screaming, “He’s not the one” and you hated it. You didn’t want to rely on the marking to determine your happiness.
What if you belonged to someone who has a different marking than you?
That’s possible right?
So when he finally parked right outside your apartment complex, he turned off the engine leaving his key in the ignition. The car fell silent for a moment before you decided to be brave and spoke up.
“Do you… wanna come up for a bit? We can talk for a while longer?”
With that, Hanbin frowned as he wondered if he should. He didn’t want to ruin a first date and he most definitely did not want you to have a bad impression on him.
“Are… Are you sure?” He asked quietly, to which you nodded.
When you didn’t get a proper response, you simply let out a soft giggle followed by, “come on” before you opened his jeep door to board off the vehicle. You left him no choice but to follow after you. Once you’ve made it to your apartment, you unlocked your front door and stepped inside allowing him to enter.
It took him a while as his eyes travelled all over your cosy apartment, admiring the minimalist interior. You told him to take a seat while you went to get him a drink.
A few minutes passed and you were both just talking freely on your couch when you noticed how his eyes always flickered down to your lips constantly as you spoke. This made you stifle a giggle and he caught on. He apologized for it but you brushed it off.
Just then, the room felt quiet all of a sudden as it was your turn to glance down to his lips.
Hanbin softly smiled as he began to lean closer.
Your heart was pounding in your chest as you could feel his warmth radiating off his body from how close he was to you.
Right when you felt your head get dizzy from the close proximity, you unconsciously whispered against his lips something that you would never normally do.
“Kiss me.”
With that being said, he pressed his plump lips on yours.
Immediately intoxicating you with how sweet he tasted. The kiss slowly got heated as he carefully guided your body back to lay on the couch while he hovered over you. His hands slid past the hem of your shirt, resting on your waist as he caressed your skin.
You slide your hands up his chest, wrapping them around his neck. He slowly pushed your shirt up using his wrists. Right when he’d just pulled away for a breather, his eyes travelled down to your bare torso beneath him.
His gaze seemed stuck on whatever he was looking at. When you realized he stopped and was staring at something on your body, you knew exactly what he saw.
“Is that…?” His voice was soft, almost sounding as though he was upset.
“Yeap…”
With this confession, he slowly pulled away from you, tugging your shirt back down and bringing you to a sitting position.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t…” He began but you were quick to hush him.
“It’s okay… Besides, I should be the one saying sorry. I already saw your marking the other day when you wore a tank top to class. I just thought you’d be okay with dating someone who doesn’t share the same mark as you. I guess I was being selfish…” You said.
Hanbin remained quiet as he listened to your reasoning. Suddenly feeling bad for stopping whatever you two were sharing, so abruptly like that. With that, he reached out to hold your hand, telling him that he was still sorry for reacting that way and for hurting your feelings by doing so.
But he told you he didn’t regret taking you out on a date today, that he genuinely had a good time with you and that he would love to still be friends with you if you allowed him.
You smiled at him before turning your attention to the flower pot sitting on your coffee table only for him to continue, “I just hope that you’ll find someone who will love you for who you are, doesn’t matter the mark.” For that, you smiled again. Thanking him for being sweet and thoughtful.
After he left, you couldn’t help but sigh. This was already the umpteenth time this happened to you.
But you couldn’t stay mad at Hanbin for turning you down simply because he didn’t reject you the way your other ex dates did. That was the reason why you let him go without holding a grudge.
Tumblr media
The next few weeks, you’ve gone to lunch on an alternate basis between Hanbin and the guys. And every time you went with the guys, you could only prepare yourself for the constant bickering with the one and only, Min Yoongi and today was no different.
You were sitting next to Namjoon at the end of the table with the only space left empty being beside you. And it was as though luck wasn’t on your side, the only human left to arrive for lunch was none other than Yoongi himself.
You were just sipping your green tea when you heard his voice approaching towards your side of the table.
“Sorry hyung, that’s the only seat left.” Jungkook smiled sympathetically to the elder as you made it a point to not spare a glance over to him. You could hear his grunt of disapproval but nonetheless plopped his bag down on the chair before disappearing to buy his food.
When he did come back, you had just gotten a whole chunk of chocolate fudge cake shoved into your mouth by Taehyung who was seated opposite you.
You were unable to pull the dangling piece of cake into your mouth so you tilted your head back. But instead of the cake entering your mouth, it ended up falling into your hands when you felt your head crash into something behind you.
And the hiss just told you who it was.
“Watch it before I spill hot soup on you.” Yoongi said as he placed the bowl of steaming noodle soup on the table top beside your tray.
“Don’t worry because I’ll make sure it spills on you too.” You challenged him back, earning a glare from him.
You heard a few sighs coming from some of the guys but you couldn’t care less. You busied yourself by scrolling through your social media in hopes that the time would just pass by quicker so that you can be away from him after lunch ends.
A few days later, you had just finished your shower when you noticed your mark slowly growing more and more opaque. To which you could finally see the design of it.
It was a dream catcher.
A pretty one at that. You softly traced your finger over the outline of the detail, keeping your eye on the reflection. Just then, a soft sigh left your lips.
This means that your designated soulmate has supposedly crossed your path more than once. But seeing how the ink is getting darker with each passing day, could only mean that if not often, this person is near you at least more than 3 times a week.
Tumblr media
A week went by and Jungkook had invited you to his birthday slash pool party that weekend. He invited only the guys and some of their girlfriends. You’ve met the girlfriends a few times and they’ve all been pretty sweet to you so far. All of them are so down to earth. You told Jungkook you’ll be there, earning a happy soft clap from him when you said so.
On the day of the party, you had just finished your shower when you noticed the water droplets underneath you weren’t clear. You looked harder only to realize those weren’t water.
It was blood.
“Great… Thanks mother nature…” You huffed as you went to get your feminine item from your cupboard. After successfully changing into the attire you chose for the day, you tied your hair into a messy ponytail before leaving your bathroom.
You wore simple denim shorts and a loose shirt tucked into your jeans.
When you actually made it to Jungkook’s house, you were surprised to know that he was living in a one story house with a built-in pool ready when he moved in.
Apparently his parents were pretty wealthy people so they bought this house for him, saying it would give him the opportunity to take responsibility in keeping the house clean and tidy rather than his mother having to do it for him all the time.
You called Jungkook’s phone only for him to pick up on the second ring. You told him you were at his front gate so he hung up the call and rushed over to you.
Once you were inside his beautiful compound, he brought you towards the back through his side garden. Distinct voices gradually get louder the nearer you get to them. The minute you turned round the corner, you instantly saw more than half of them in the pool including the ladies.
Seokjin and Taehyung were over at the barbeque grill, cooking the meat for everyone. There was a table filled with all kinds of snacks and sweet drinks. It was a full on pool party.
Just then, a familiar voice rings in your ear already knowing it belonged to Hoseok.
“Y/N! You made it! Come join us!”
You stopped at one of the chairs only to put your sling bag down and apologized to him, “Sorry to burn the mood, but I can’t. Monthly calls.” You could hear some whines and sad pouts forming on some of their faces right after.
“Aww man, that’s a total bummer.” Jimin said, making you shrug.
However, you noticed a figure leaning against the wall on the other side of the pool just blankly staring at you. That’s when you glanced over to see Yoongi. You held your stare for a moment before you turned away. Missing the way he was still staring at you even when you were making your way to Seokjin and Taehyung.
A few minutes later, you were just talking to Jiyeon who was taking a break from being in the pool. You sat facing each other but from where you were seated, your back was facing the grilling pit.
Jiyeon was just talking to you about baking when you noticed someone swimming to the side that was aligned with where you were sitting.
Only to realize it was Yoongi.
He placed his hands on the edge of the pool and soon pushed himself upwards. You watched as water flowed down his body effortlessly. Cursing yourself for even staring at his shirtless form. He pushed his wet hair out of his face, resulting in him having sort of a slick back hairstyle.
He was too busy talking to Hoseok and Jungkook who were still in the pool, his head completely turned away from you.
Right when you were about to look away, your eyes caught sight of the imprinted ink on his left rib. You didn’t think much of it as you turned away from him. But then something in your brain ticked you off like a time bomb. So you carefully turned back to him just a few feet away from you.
That’s when you saw it.
The dream catcher on his left rib is so prominent and bold against his milky skin. Not to mention his toned abs. A soft gasp left your lips as he walked past you without sparing a single glance at you.
But you didn’t mind it. You were glad he didn’t see how shocked you were because if it did, he would have said something about it.
So instead, you just got up and left, entering Jungkook’s home through the glass doors frantically. You rushed in and went straight to the said destination. Once inside, you took a moment to steady your breathing as you brought your gaze up to the long mirror that laid upon you on the wall landscape.
You carefully pulled your shirt up to expose the ink on your own skin. You could only stare at it through the reflection before looking down at your own torso and gently tracing your finger over the outer rim of the dream catcher’s hoop.
You didn’t know how long you were gone for. It wasn’t until a voice broke your train of thoughts.
“Was it really necessary to rush into someone’s house like-”
However, his speech got stuck in his throat when his eyes flickered over to the reflection in the mirror. No it wasn’t your face he was staring at. It wasn’t the soap bottles lining Jungkook’s sink.
It was your mark on your left rib.
You swiftly pulled your shirt down to hide it from him from seeing any more details of it. With quick hasty steps, you turned to leave the bathroom and had barely taken a step out into the hallway when he grabbed your wrist and pulled you back to face him.
“Show me.” He said firmly.
“Show you what?”
“Don’t play dumb, you know exactly what I’m talking about.”
“I- I don’t know what you mean-”
Without warning, Yoongi used his free hand to lift your shirt up to stop right below your bra line as his hands naturally cupped your sides to keep your shirt there. He finally caught a clear look of the inked design on you, seeing how familiar it looked to him.
You could’ve sworn you saw his eyes flicked wider for just a millisecond before it went back to its original state.
For some reason, your lung felt restricted and your heart dropped upon seeing the same mark on his skin at the same exact spot as yourself. You wanted to run away. All you wanted to do now was to be as far away from him as you can.
So you slapped his hands away, making him lose his grip on you before you turned around to leave.
He grabbed your wrist again but this time, you mustered whatever strength you had left to yank your arm from him. Tears stinging your eyes as it threatens to fall, yet you don’t fully understand why.
“Don’t! J-Just… leave me alone… please.” Your voice falls into a whisper as you rush to the backyard, ignoring their worried calls as you simply told them you weren’t feeling well because of your monthly calls. When Yoongi did come back to the backyard, he was questioned as to what happened back in the house and why you looked like you were about to cry.
Yoongi couldn’t help but stare at your descending back just in time before you turned the corner and disappeared fully from sight. Only for him to lie to them despite knowing exactly why you left.
“She wasn’t feeling well.”
Tumblr media
The week went by and you have been avoiding coming relatively close to the rest other than the 2 who were obviously unavoidable. But it’s not like you had anything against them. You just wanted to avoid Yoongi at all costs for now. It was a Friday and you had just finished your classes for the day when the two boys exchanged glances to each another before Jungkook spoke up.
“Hey, do you wanna grab something to eat with us after this?” You knew he was being nice. You knew he wasn’t to blame for Yoongi having the same exact soulmate mark as you. So for that, you chose not to lash out at him.
“It’s fine. I’ll pass.” You smiled half heartedly and they could tell. But thankfully, they chose not to question further.
The three of you were walking towards the main entrance as usual when you saw the rest of the group seeming to wait for you three. You glanced up to Jungkook beside you who gestured a small wave to the others, only for you to accidentally look over.
And the first thing you saw was Yoongi already looking at you.
Great.
Before you could get to close, you bid your goodbyes to your friends as you separated from them to head towards the gates. Nobody has yet to know why you were acting this way other than Yoongi himself. You were just halfway through the parking lot when a firm grip on your wrist made you turn after being tugged back gently.
You nearly crashed into the figure whom you weren’t surprised when you saw it was him.
“Stop acting like a child.” He said, his tone held something much more than just firmness. He sounded like he’s… hurt almost.
“So what? This marking thing is a load of bullshit. Why does it determine who we should be with? That’s unfair! I’ve seen couples who have different marks and yet they’re still happy together?!” You said, clearly letting your emotions take over your mind.
“If you think it’s bullshit then why are you ignoring me like I’ve just killed your pet?!” He asked, his voice now a tad louder than it was before.
“Because all the guys I’ve tried dating care too much about these marks! Every single one of them ditched me when they found out I didn’t have the same mark! And what are the odds that the one person who has the same exact mark as me, happens to be the one person that has been nothing but a daily source of fight with me?” You paused as his grip on you loosened, his glare suddenly softened.
“Of course I couldn’t believe it… I didn’t want to believe that of all people, it’s you… That’s why I ignore you.” Your voice grew soft as you saw the way his eyes flickered back and forth on your own brown pupils.
“So you’re saying you hate me? Is that it?” His question was simple but it held a thousand meanings and you knew it.
“I don’t even know anymore, Yoongi…” You whispered as you slowly pulled your hand out of his grip and quickly left before he could say anything else. Yoongi stood there trying to process everything. Still not entirely sure of what just happened. Just then, a gentle hand on his shoulder made him return back to reality.
“Hey man, you okay?” Namjoon’s calm voice spoke from beside Yoongi as the latter could only nod.
“We heard your conversation… Well, we didn’t intend to anyways… But, is it true? That you both have the same mark?” Namjoon continued.
He could hear the soft, quiet curse leaving Yoongi’s lips during his exhale before he spoke up, “Yeah… That was actually the reason why she abruptly left during Jungkook’s pool party.” Yoongi explained and it all began to fall into place for Namjoon. The younger could only nod as he finally put the pieces together.
“Mmm, and so I’m guessing she’s too overwhelmed with the fact that you have the mark out of a billion people to walk this planet?” Namjoon said.
“Bingo.” Yoongi sighed as the two began to walk back to their friends who were still gathered at the entrance despite hearing the commotion earlier. If space is what you need, then space is what he shall give. But of course, you can’t run from him forever.
Tumblr media
It has been two weeks since your outburst with Yoongi and you have been keeping your distance from him again. The guys also didn’t try to tag you along knowing fully well that you needed space from Yoongi. For that, you silently thanked them. It was a Saturday night and you had made it a point to go for a quick grocery run to stock up your refrigerator with edible food.
After getting all the items you needed, you went to the queue. The lady at the counter scanned every item on the conveyor belt and went ahead to put it in the plastic bag before telling you the total cost.
You were about to reach into your jeans pocket when you noticed them being flat.
You felt around the pockets of your jeans and it was in fact empty. With that being said, you mentally cursed yourself for not bringing your wallet with you. Not only that, this store was the only one nearest to your apartment and it was closing in 10 minutes.
You wouldn’t make it back in time if you went home now to retrieve your wallet.
So you apologized to the lady who looked equally done with her job as you left the store empty handed. You were just walking down the partially empty street when you felt something drop onto your cheek. You stopped walking to feel what it was. Before you could touch your cheek, another drop hits the top of your head. And then another. And another.
“Fuck my life…”
You whispered to yourself as the sky suddenly began to downpour on you. Watching as some people ran across the road for shelter, some whips out their umbrella to shield them from the rain, some simply stayed indoors to avoid being caught in the rain.
However, you were too tired to even care about seeking shelter. Feeling as if today was the worst day of your life.
You continued to stroll down the street completely soaked under the rain.
You wrapped your arms around yourself in attempts to keep yourself warm but it clearly did no shit for you. Absent minded to notice your surroundings, you didn’t hear the calls for your name until the vehicle came to a gradual slow speed beside you on the street.
“Y/N!”
It was Yoongi.
“Leave me alone…”
“Y/N, why in the world are you walking in the heavy rain? You might fall sick, you dummy.”
“Who c-cares?” Your lips were starting to quiver from the cold.
“I do.”
You could’ve sworn your heart just skipped a beat at that response.
“Look, let me take you to my place and get you dry clothes while waiting for the rain to stop. I’ll send you home after.” He said.
“I d-don’t need your… h-help, Yoongi.”
He let out a soft groan in annoyance with your stubbornness, only to drive a little further down before bringing the car to a complete stop. You were about to carry on walking but your feet just came to a halt when you saw him running out of his car and coming to you.
“Come on and stop whining like a little kid.” Yoongi said as he grabbed your wrist and began jogging back to his car, pulling you into the passenger side before going back to the driver seat.
Once safely inside, he drove off into the night and made a left turn at the junction while your apartment building was to the right and probably about a 20 minutes walk. The car ride was quiet as neither of you said anything. You simply let him do what he said he would. When he finally brought the car to a park, he turned off the engine and soon climbed out of the vehicle.
You followed suit as he had already come over to your side to hold the door for you. After he’d locked the car, he led you to his apartment complex as you followed behind him. You took in the interior of his apartment complex, it looked slightly older than yours but still well maintained.
Apparently, he lived on the 14th floor unlike you who lived on the 5th floor.
He soon pulls out his house key and proceeds to unlock his front door. He opens the door for you, letting you step inside first. Once he had closed the door behind him, he told you to wait there as he excused himself to go get you a clean towel and new dry clothes for you to change into.
You took in the minimalist setting of his apartment, quite similar to yours except your walls are white and his is grey.
Yoongi came back with a handful, telling you where the bathroom was.
You followed his directions and soon closed the bathroom door once you’ve stepped inside. In the meantime, Yoongi had gone to change out of his own wet clothes into a clean pair of his sweatpants and a hoodie. He was boiling hot water to make hot chocolate for the two of you when you cleared your throat behind him.
He turned around at the sound, only for him to scheme through your outfit in which he had so specifically chosen for you. He had lent you one of his sleeping shorts and an oversized black hoodie that looked a little too big on you.
But for some reason, you looked good in them.
He almost had to pinch himself for staring too long before he finally spoke up, “Uhh, my dryer’s in the laundry room. Second door to the left.”
You nodded as you disappeared back down the hall, only for him to mentally curse himself for losing his composure. After 2 minutes or so, you came back having managed to turn the dryer on.
He handed you the cup of hot chocolate, not forgetting to thank him for it.
There was a short moment of peaceful silence before he gestured over to his living room. The both of you went over to the couch as you sat on either ends of the furniture. He turned his tv on and was busying himself with searching through Netflix when you mustered up the courage to ask him what was on your mind for the past half an hour.
“Why did you help me?”
Yoongi turned to you briefly, unsure if he should answer the question truthfully.
“As much as we fight, I’m not entirely heartless.”
Your eyes bore into him as you soon found yourself looking down at your hands when he turned to look at you. If it wasn’t for the tv, you knew for a fact that he could’ve heard the thumping of your heart. Silence fell over you two again but he broke it as soon as it started.
“Why were you walking in the rain?”
“I was on a grocery run.”
“But I don’t recall seeing you carry any bags of groceries?”
“That’s because I couldn’t pay for it without my wallet…”
He raised his eyebrows at you in disbelief, finding it ridiculous that you only realized it when you were checking out of the store.
“Shut up. This kind of stuff happens okay…” You scoffed, earning a quiet chuckle coming from him followed by an, “Okay, okay.” The room fell silent again and you were just playing with the strings of your hoodie.
Silently wishing for time to pass quicker but it seems like the rain only got heavier.
“Look, I think we should just forget about the whole marking thing and just… start over?” He said, causing you to look at him but he seemed like he was diligently avoiding your gaze.
“Start… over?” You dragged your words to show that you wanted a slightly more detailed explanation.
“What I mean is… let’s stop ignoring each other and stop fighting over the smallest little issues like we did when we were young. Back then we were still young and immature. But we’re not anymore, are we?” He ended with a question, making you huff.
You know he has a point but your ego is still higher than ever.
“Are you only saying this because I’m your soulmate?”
“No. I really am tired of fighting with you.”
“Why now? Why only want to call truce after you’ve seen my mark? Doesn’t that say a lot?” You were stubborn and he knows it. And yet, he still answers you to clear all your doubts.
Surprisingly patient with you.
“I know it might look like what you think, but it’s really not. I don’t care about the marking much like you. But after thinking about it, I feel like it’s actually childish to hold a grudge on each other for the things we’ve done years ago, don’t you think?” He explained, hoping it’ll get past that rock solid head of yours.
Your heart knows he’s right but your mind forces you to say otherwise.
With that, you huffed as you got up and excused yourself to go check on your clothes. Before you could make it past the first door on the left, he grabbed your wrist and tugged you back.
He pressed you against the wall with his other hand beside your head to trap you.
Your free hand hovered in between both yours and his chest as he was less than 4 inches away. Your faces were so close you could feel his breath hitting your lips. You would’ve slapped him if he did this years ago.
But now?
“Why are you so stubborn?”
He asked, his voice low as you kept your heated gaze on his eyes even though you saw the way his eyes flickered back and forth between your eyes and lips.
Rising heat from both anger and his body temperature radiated off him, engulfing you like a cocoon. You could’ve sworn you saw his pupils dilate a few times now that he was this close to you. It was quiet in the hallway as he frowned, still waiting for an answer from you. But instead, you gently pressed your hand on his warm chest that was in between your bodies.
This was enough to make him flinch slightly. His crammed face relaxed for a moment when he looked down at your hand on his chest before looking back at you.
Even more confusion struck him.
Your heart was racing rapidly in your chest, and you were so sure he could hear it. You couldn’t bear to look at him any longer so you looked down at your hand as you slid it up towards the necklace he was wearing. Playing with the pendant in between your fingers.
You didn’t realise this but his grip on your wrist was long gone and was now slowly snaking that arm around your waist.
Yoongi leaned in very subtly to let his lips brush against yours just to see your reaction. He closed his eyes, taking in the feeling of having you this close for the first time. You did the same as your other hand rested on his left bicep. Before you knew it, he closed whatever remaining gaps in between only to kiss you.
Your heart exploded in your chest as he used the hand beside your head to cup your cheek. You leaned into his touch while you reciprocated the kiss. Yoongi’s grip on your waist tightened as he pulled you against him.
He felt both your hands now just holding onto his biceps for support, his lips tugging upwards against your mouth.
You could feel his muscles flexing under your fingertips as he pulled away from your mouth and was now trailing soft kisses down your neck. A soft sigh left your lips, feeling him give some love to the part that joins your neck and shoulder blade together.
“Yoongi…” Your voice came out as a mere whisper.
Just when you wanted to say something, your breath hitched in your throat when you felt his hands slip past your shirt only to rest them on your sides when your mark was.
His touch was gentle but it definitely did something to your poor heart.
“Answer me truthfully… Are you okay with… this?” Yoongi asked, gesturing between you and him. “With us? Because you can say no if you’re really against this. I would never force you.”
You stared at him for a while, rethinking your answer. You’ve been so firm about not caring who has the same soulmate mark as you because you thought it was all bullshit. But now, standing in front of him and knowing that he has the mark, not only that but he seemed like he really genuinely likes you is making it twice harder for you to say no.
But your silence was too long for him as he counted to 3 in his mind. When you didn’t respond, he slowly nodded. Pulling himself away to leave a space between you.
“It’s okay, I understand… I think your clothes are dry. Go change, I’ll wait outside.” His voice was quiet as if he’s too upset, he can’t even look you in the eye. You felt bad. You never wanted him to feel this way. So when he turned in his heels to walk away, you yearned for him to come back.
Yoongi was halfway down his living room when he felt a smaller hand slide into his right one. His step came to a halt as he kept his back to you.
He was about to ask if there's something wrong but all he got was a soft apology.
“I’m sorry…”
You watched as he remained still, his back still facing you. Doing nothing to turn and look at you. Yoongi wasn’t sure what he wanted to do at the moment so he kept quiet.
Just then, you used your other hand to cup his that you were already holding. He would be lying if he said he didn’t like this. But he definitely wasn’t prepared for what you were about to do next. You weren’t sure if you trust your voice so instead, you took a few steps closer before wrapping your arms around his waist.
Pressing your cheek against his back. You stayed like that for a few seconds, basking in the sweet vanilla scent of his.
You could feel him tense up when you first hugged him but he soon relaxed in your arms.
You didn’t dare to do anything else, all until you felt him softly caress your arms only to lock his fingers with yours over top of your hands. You only nuzzled your face deeper into his back, afraid to look at him.
But when you feel him slowly move around in your arms, that’s when you let him face you.
The minute he sees your face, he immediately cups your cheeks and wasted no time in kissing you ever so sweetly. The butterflies in your stomach erupted as you snaked your arms around his shoulders, feeling him pull you closer to him by your waist.
He held you securely against him all the while never leaving your lips. You were the first to pull away, keeping the distance small between you and him.
Your eyes were still closed so you depended on your senses.
That wasn’t until you felt him cup your face again, caressing your cheek with his thumbs. The room fell silent as he brushed his soft lips against yours and whispered to you quietly, “Can we start over?”
You opted for just a nod, unsure if you could trust your voice. You opened your eyes to see him staring at you so softly with his doe round eyes.
Yoongi smiled, whispering an ‘okay’ before he kissed you again. He wrapped his arms around your waist as you melted against his lips. He took his time with you, making sure you were comfortable and that you really wanted this. He never wanted to hurt you in any way. He kept asking for your permission before he did anything and you appreciated it.
You woke up the next morning to a warm feeling engulfing you from behind. You stirred in your sleep, trying to see what it was. But the squeeze around your waist made you look down to see the familiar arm draped over your waist, tucking his hands underneath you. The silver bracelet around his right wrist could never be mistaken for someone else.
Just when you were about to snuggle deeper into the warmth of his body, you felt him kiss the back of your head. Your heart pounded in your chest, stomach flipped in your belly.
“Mmm, good morning.” He whispered, his morning voice low and raspy.
You sighed in content as you turned around to face him, only to find that he still had his eyes closed but there was a smile that crept on his lips.
With that, you smiled as you planted a soft kiss on his lips. You could feel him smirk against your lips, earning a soft giggle from you. His arm that was supporting your head, bent at the elbows as he began to play with your soft hair.
Tumblr media
The next day, you came to school feeling a little down in the weather. Maybe it was a late reaction to when you got drenched in the rain. You were sniffling in your seat when Taehyung and Jungkook immediately caught the sight of your red nose.
“Hey, are you sick? Your nose is red.” Jungkook said, his voice laced with full concern. You simply shook him off saying it was just light flu.
The other two weren’t buying it, they said they would go get medicine for you after class and you all but rejected them. The last thing you’d wanna do was to burden them.
So after your morning class has ended and you have been dismissed for lunch, the three of you made it to the cafeteria only to find the rest of the guys already seated. But you and Yoongi still haven’t told them about your resolve yet. So they thought you two were still ignoring each other.
“Hey guys! Y/N? Are you okay? You look kind of pale…” Namjoon asked, making you smile.
“It’s just a little flu, that’s all.” You said, completely missing the way Yoongi was staring at you with pure concern.
“Do you wanna go home and rest?” Hoseok asked in which you shook your head, before a squeaky sneeze left your lips not forgetting to cover your mouth while you did. “Sorry…” You whispered an apology, earning a few laughs from them. Just then, Yoongi got up without a word, leaving the table.
You watched as he disappeared down the aisle towards the drink stall. You wondered what he was doing but nevertheless shrugged, going to the empty seats beside him and Jimin.
You took a seat beside Yoongi’s empty chair, not really having the appetite to eat.
You were just rejecting Jimin’s offer to feed you some of his food when Yoongi came back with a glass of hot tea, a bottle of water and a strip of two panadol flu tablets. The rest of them watched quietly as he sat down beside you and handed you the drinks.
“Here, take this.” He said softly, pulling your hand up to push the two tablets out of the strip onto your open palms.
“Oh? Since when are you guys on good terms?” Taehyung asked in utter confusion.
“We’re not. We’re just acting.” Yoongi replied sarcastically before twisting the bottle cap open for you. He waited for you to throw your head back and let the tablets fall into your mouth before gulping down the water.
After you were done, you thanked him quietly. You didn’t miss the little smirk on his face.
“Okay…” Seokjin said as he gently slammed his hands onto the table top, making some of you flinch.
“What’s going on? Last week you were both ignoring each other and now you’re taking care of her like she means the world to you?” He asked as you turned to Yoongi for help.
“Don’t you know the saying ‘People change’?” Yoongi said.
“Of course, but it’s almost too drastic. Just over the weekend too.” Seokjin said in disbelief.
“Well, I guess it happens.” Yoongi shrugged as Jungkook directed his question to you.
“So I’m guessing you too?”
“No. I still hate him.” You lied.
“Is that so? Then why are you holding his pinkie?” Hoseok smirked, pointing to your intertwined pinkie on the table. With that, you quickly removed your hands from Yoongi.
“Hey... Why did you let go? I was about to play with your fingers.”
Yoongi said with a small pout, making you blush. Just then, Yoongi reached back over to lace his fingers with yours, resting your hands on his lap only to steal a quick kiss to your cheek.
This stirred a few dramatic gasps from your other friends. “Did you guys see that?! That was- omg!” Seokjin’s voice was too loud, making Jimin cover his mouth with his hands.
“Oh hush your pie hole dust. Just let me be happy for once.” Yoongi smirked as you felt him caress the back of your hand. He’s definitely going to be a handful but you’re more than happy to entertain his crap.
~~~
589 notes · View notes
twilightau · 3 years ago
Text
We could have been, but we weren't; P.JS
Tumblr media
main characters; prince!jay x undercover!reader
side character(s); crown prince!sunoo (mentioned)
genre; angst, fluff if you squint, romance, royalty au, strangers-to-friends-to-??
warnings; attempted murder, weapons
word count; 1.9k
summary;  in which you wish you had met him in another reality.
network; @kflixnet
author’s note; part two of The Dancing Princes​. let me know what you think~
song recommendations; the playlist
Tumblr media
Prince Park Jongseong was quite the topic for daily rumors all across Decelia. He was written to be the topic of everyone’s favorite stories; handsome, tall, well-built, and a prince.
Unlike many of his friends and acquaintances, prince Jongseong, lovingly named Jay for his relaxed demeanor, was not ambitious for the crown. He wanted to live life first and worry about serious business later. He knew there was no room for mistakes once he became king, so why not make those mistakes now?
One of those mistakes was being a bit too much of a smooth talker. Although he had never made direct advances to any women, his way of speech style was gravely misunderstood, and the rumors of prince Park being a ladies’ man fired upright the following day.
That was one of the few times Jay received a good scolding from the queen, and he promised to be careful. And if eloquence was one of his defining traits, determinism is another. Ever since that event, Jay does not speak to any women aside from the queen.
You were the private tutor the queen requested for Jay since he had to resit his last year of high school. At first, you and Jay clashed a bit because of your differences; Jay was assertive to have you replaced by a male, and you were claiming him to be overreacting.
Let us say, the first few weeks, every corner you turned, you would see a mop of blond hair at the opposite end flashing by.
It made your job incredibly difficult. After all, you were supposed to get closer with the prince. Moreover, it frustrated you how the free-spirited, fearless prince seemed to have a phobia for women.
Fortunately, you are also a determined person.
One day you managed to catch the prince after a childish chase, cornering him in one of the many hallways while catching your breath.
“Your majesty, I understand your reluctance when interacting with women, but must you run at the sight of me?” you speak with frustration, unaware of close you are to the prince. Jay gulps at the proximity, not having been so close to a person in a long time. He tries to recollect his calm facade and walk away, but you slam your hand against the wall next to him, effectively stopping the startled prince.
“Miss Elise, please let me leave.” he addresses you with your fake name, which indicates he does know you are supposed to tutor him. He sports a distressed expression you could almost call cute if you weren’t so upset for having to run a mile or two.
“No. You have been ignoring me and your duty to graduate this year, your majesty.” Jay stops looking around the moment he accidentally looks into your eyes. It is the first time the two of you have proper eye contact, and he realizes how pretty your eyes are.
“Not a talker? That is fine. Just come to the study chamber tomorrow after breakfast; I beg you. I have to do my job properly, or I might get fired.” you play your pity card and internally smirk when you notice his guilty eyes. He still hasn’t said a word, but you see him nod his head ever so slightly, and a bright smile covers your face.
“Excellent, see you tomorrow, your majesty!” your over-enthusiasm wasn’t part of the act, but it sure makes Jay look forward to tomorrow the tiniest bit.
Tumblr media
That following morning was awkward, to state the least; Jay still refused to speak to you, making you look up from the literature every single time to read his facial expressions. It almost convinced you that he might not be able to, but you knew how well the prince spoke just a few weeks ago when he spoke to the public.
It made it incredibly hard for you to get closer to the prince, let alone gather personal information.
Until one day, you arrived a little late to your tutor session with some freshly baked honey-filled pastries from town. Jay’s curious eyes silently stare at the pies the entirety of the session, making you smile a bit at your second breakthrough; he has a sweet tooth.
You decided walking to town every morning would not be so bad when he muttered a soft ‘thank you whenever you offered him one. The slight sparkle in his eyes whenever he tries new pastries might be a reason as well, but you convince yourself that it was majorly to earn his trust.
The process was slow, but indeed, you were taking down Jay’s walls. He started to make small comments on things you told him and sometimes even cracked a smile whenever you praised him for understanding a subject quickly. Sometimes, you let yourself slip and believe that you could build a genuine friendship with the prince, but every fortnight, the report in your hands proves that the two of you could never be.
The more you got to know Park Jay, the more you wished he would push you away like he did at first.
You wish he did not sneak looks at you when you pretend to do something else; you wish he would not accept every delicacy you offered; you wish he did not talk and joke with you like you are dear to him.
You wish you had failed this mission before it began. Hoping the progress will suddenly halt and your boss would send someone else to do the job, allowing you to protect him secretly. But wishes are precious because they only get fulfilled once in a while, and they decide not to fulfill yours.
Jay invites you to Kim Sunoo’s coronation on one of your afternoons strolls to the bakery. You try to wave off his invitation by stating you are too much of a commoner to be allowed in, but the stubborn prince keeps pushing you to come, and you are left with no choice.
Tumblr media
That is how you found yourself in front of the doors leading to the ballroom in your gown. It was something far too expensive for you to wear, but Jay insisted he wanted to make it a special moment for you, and it pained you whenever you thought of his excitement.
Today was the day you had to end it all, and the dilemma in your head was killing you.
You try to merge with the crowd, talking with the daughter of the bakery owner you frequent. She was in charge of the banquet tonight, apparently recommended by Jay to the Kims. You smile at her rambles about the process of preparing for the coronation banquet but feel a presence right behind you that stops the two of you mid-conversation.
“You came.” His surprise was evident, and so was the happiness in his tone. You force yourself to turn around and plaster your well-trained fake smile on your face. “Of course, your majesty.” Jay leads you to the dance floor, effortlessly avoiding the other dancing pairs until you reach an empty spot.
You wait for Jay to speak up, but he only stares at you while the two of you waltz through the songs.
“Not a talker tonight, your majesty?” you tease him, noticing the rosy hue covering his cheeks at your words.
“I was just admiring the beauty in front of me, miss Elise.” the words make you flustered for a second, but reality regains its reins on your mind the moment your fake name leaves his mouth. It makes you feel sick.
“Your academic performance is improving, and you aren’t afraid to charm a woman anymore? I see you are aiming for that perfect prince charming title now, aren’t you?” Jay laughs at your words, loud enough for a few heads to turn your direction, but both of you can’t care less.
“I am only trying because I met someone I’m willing to settle with.” his reckless comment takes you by great surprise, and you accidentally step on his foot. You profusely apologize while Jay continues to laugh way too hard.
And the night continued like that, one song turned into three, and one dance session turned into five. It didn’t matter to both of you that there were places to be. Your presence in each other’s arms is worth more than any amount of treasures.
As love blossoms, your feet start to hurt. You bend down to rest your feet but stop your motion. You felt the presence of the little dagger strapped high against your thigh.
Oh. Right.
This was not your fairy tale. But, this was the story that will leave you heartbroken for the remains of your lifeline.
“You must be tired, my lady. Let me lead you to a more private place”, his arms finding their way around you in a natural way as if he had practiced the movement thousands of times.
The two of you walk in silence, the ballroom music fading into the background as your footsteps grow louder.
End it, now or never. The thought makes your vision blur with tears.
“Do your feet hurt that much, my lady?” Jay asks, worry evident in his mesmerizing voice. He stops you next to the fountain, moving up his hands to caress your cheeks.
“What is wrong? My lady, you must not scare me.” his brows furrow while he slips the shoes off your feet, checking how severe the blisters are. Your heart is only tearing further at the sight in front of you. I will never deserve this man.
“Your majesty, I am sorry. The perfection you wish for is far from who I am. I am a traitor.” your words leave your lips weakly, and your facade crumbles. I am ready to be truthful. “I am a traitor.”
“Do not speak of such ridiculous matters, my lady” he chuckles nervously, trying to act as if you didn’t just confess your crime to him. As if the two of you still had a chance. As if a relationship built on lies had a future.
You shake your head as you hold unto the dagger hidden in your sleeve. “Please, just walk away.”
“I love you, y/n,” he suddenly says, and you finally look him in the eyes, only to find the world’s saddest stars glistening in them. Don’t.
“You knew who I was, and you still let yourself fall for me?” you ask in disbelief. How could you be such a fool, Jongseong?
“Because it was you. I am not afraid to love you even if I might end up dead,” the prince states firmly, his hands going back to the place where they belong: around you. He pulls you into a hug as he lays his head on top of your head. You feel his tears on your skin and close your eyes to reminisce about all your time together. I’m sorry, I am not brave enough for you.
“But I am.” you croak, pushing the dagger to pierce through his clothing and skin, right into his chest. But I will always love you.
“It’s okay, y/n,” he says with his kindest smile, and you can’t bear to watch him fall, turning around to run away like you always have done.
Jay’s smile saddens, but he holds unto it. First, knowing his guard will soon search for him. And most importantly, knowing how much you love him, too.
The wound hurts a lot. But he will survive it perfectly fine, and he understands your actions speak louder than your words. Live a good life for me, please.
82 notes · View notes
moon3thereal · 3 years ago
Note
Hiii one request! Nat meets R in a bar or something while she is trying to be far away from the problems of being an avenger,the read head tries to have a date with her and R accepts, then in the midel of the date R takes the initiative and start to be a little/much sassy 😏 and convinces Nat to leave the place to be in somewhere more private. But when they are alone R start to fight with Nat trying to knock her out but Nat pin her down and asks why she is doing that, R admitt that she is a widow and was sent to cach her and bring her back to the red room. The end can be as you wish.
Thanks!!
Title: Eyes on the prize
genre: fluff, angst-ish
warnings: guns, violence, alcohol, knives, mention of memory removal
the bottom: (dont ask why, but leah forced me to credit her at the bottom and technically i did!) credits to @midgardianweasley for practically co-writing and building the foundation for this fic, i could NOT have done this without her, thank you so much, and please go check out her fics everyone!
a/n: one of the longest fics i've written, i hope you guys enjoy! ends with fluff dw
2.7 K words
Natasha brushed a hand over her face in fatigue, she’d been to more than 3 countries within the time span of a week for missions and had done so much paperwork she thought she might pull out her hair if she laid eyes on another mission report. The cadets that S.H.I.E.L.D recruited, in her eyes, were no more than children who didn’t even know how to hold a gun properly, not to mention shoot.
What the Russian needed right now was tequila, a shit load of tequila. Fortunately, there was a bar that the redhead frequented whenever she needs to put some distance between her and the problems of the avengers and S.H.I.E.L.D
Picking up her leather jacket that was tossed carelessly on her couch and the keys to her Chevrolet, Natasha set off to a bar about 3 blocks down the Avengers compound, in fifteen minutes, she was met with a glowing neon sign, she was regular at the dim bar and was almost always seen there on a Friday night with her red hair in a braid and several locks framing her face in effortless elegance
Usually, people didn’t approach her and if they did, she never paid much attention to them. However, today when she sat down, there was a y/h/c haired woman already locating the seat next to her with a beer in her hand. You were idly swirling the beer in its bottle and staring off into space when the redhead settled down in her usual seat.
She ordered 10 tequila shots and you raised a brow at her “you sure you can handle that?” she turned to you with a smirk “I can handle twice as much as that but I have work tomorrow” you hummed in acknowledgement “I haven’t seen you around here before, you’re new?” Natasha asked downing a shot without so much as a grimace “I’m looking for a job, bartender” you said propping your foot up on the counter “well you sure don’t look like one” she remarks and you frowned “is there a specific look for a bartender?” and she downed a second shot and gestured to a woman taking orders from drunk customers “sure there is, there, like her”
You scoffed “hm maybe I’d be an exception to the standard” the corner of the redhead’s lips quirked up “good, it’d be nice to see some change around here” you stretched your arms out in front of you “it would be, if they hired me, but they didn’t, which is why I’m sitting around moping about the fact they rejected such a pretty face” Natasha downed another shot nodding in agreement. You looked at her, genuinely impressed at her alcohol tolerance. “Your mom never taught you that it’s rude to stare?” your face fell for a second at the mention of your mother, she was dead, like all the mothers of the widows who attempted to pry their daughters out of the red room’s grip. But you restored your poker face before she could catch your look of discomposure.
“If staring at you was considered rude, then the whole world would be douchebags” you quipped. Natasha only laughed and shook her head at your obvious flirting “you come here often then?” you asked after watching her down another shot “obviously not enough if I can’t remember a pretty face like yours.” The redhead said lightly. she was studying you though, she noticed how you were sitting, back straight, shoulders back, she wasn’t unfamiliar to that posture at all, in the red room, all widows were trained to be on the defense, on alert at all times, always anticipating anything and everything, nothing could go amiss that way. And she’d also noticed the way you had barely taken a sip of your drink, resorting to swishing the liquid idly in its bottle.
Against everything logical and her own unmistakable and uncannily accurate instinct, Natasha stopped her brain from analyzing and evaluating these signs and allowed them to be overlooked as a side effect of her falling into a trance simply by observing you, how your eyebrows arched perfectly, the curve of your lips, the perfect ridge of your nose and the captivating color of your eyes and how all of your facial parts are completely flawless to her, she could’ve sworn she’d seen you somewhere before. Natasha had met many interesting people in her line of work but she’d never yet met one as intriguing as you were, the quintessential mysterious girl in the bar.
If you had told her two days ago, that she would ask a stranger in a bar over to her apartment to drink with her, she’d have called you crazy. However, it didn’t seem so crazy to her now, it was unlike Natasha, but she asked you to come over to have a drink, an unofficial, casual date. You raised an eyebrow “now, now, was that an attempt to get me drunk?” you clicked your tongue in faux disapproval “simply seizing the opportunity to get to know you better” she said with a shrug. You hid a smile behind your beer bottle, taking the first sip of the night. You had tried to convince yourself that it was simply your success at scoring a date with the Russian therefore giving you a chance to lure her somewhere private to eliminate her, but something in you told you it was more than that, the way she smiled, how her lips curved and her perfectly sculpted eyebrow lifted, it was all so familiar yet you simply couldn’t retrieve the memory.
But one thought was clear, raging even, at the back of your mind. You didn’t want to hurt her, whoever she was, you didn’t want to lay a hand on her, couldn’t bear to see her in pain, you’d defy Dreykov, defy the red room, defy Russia and all of their stupid organizations if it meant you could figure out this mystery of a woman, discovering her secrets one by one, layer by layer. Not to report back to the red room but just to see Natasha as she was. Unfortunately, life doesn’t work that way, it never worked that way, if you’d done it, Dreykov would’ve been notified and you’d be dead before the sun rises the next day. Your eyebrows knitted together momentarily at the thought that the woman before you would be dead at your hands before dawn before you arranged your features to hide the moment of doubt.
“Natalia Alianovna Romanova. Natasha Romanoff. She’s a problem, a threat, a danger to the future of our widows, I need her terminated, and there’s no one better than you, y/n, for the job. Don’t let me down” Dreykov’s voice flashed in your mind, his orders were clear, kill her or there will be consequences.
Natasha’s voice brought you back to the conversation “what do you do? Before you decided to look for a job at this dingy bar I mean” she asked, the shot glasses were all empty now where there had been at least 5 more before, you must’ve been too entranced by your thoughts, or how strands of her hair had escaped her braid and curly wisps of ginger hair were framing her face perfectly. You both had decided to get out of the bar, more patrons had walked in making it stuffy and crampy, you were walking out the door with Natasha, presumably to her apartment “a primary teacher, English.” You said without hesitation, you always spent hours reciting the information of your cover, sometimes you felt as if you were really the person you were pretending to be with how fluently you could deliver the lines you’d practiced in front of a mirror until they were flawless.
She laughed; a clear, melodious laugh that made your cheeks heat up “you? An English teacher? Wow.” She said “what are you gonna say I don’t look like one?” you glared at her with indignation on your face “no, you don’t, you don’t at all” she said, her expression turning into a serious one, for a second your heart dropped, thinking your cover had been blown and you’d have to resort to shooting her in the middle of the street, which wasn’t exactly ideal “you look like a zookeeper” she said biting her lip to hold back her laugh at the look on your face. you raised your eyebrows in amusement “that wasn’t funny” you said “oh but it was” the redhead laughed showing her impossibly white teeth and her cheeks were pink from walking in the cold night air, you couldn’t help but stare at her lips, her perfectly kissable- snap out of it y/l/n, you thought to yourself, that isn’t what you’re here to do.
“But seriously, I’m actually happy about how tonight is going, better than drinking alone” she voiced out, you looked to her with a smirk evident on your face, you’d just reached her apartment and she was unlocking the door letting you in behind her. “Going soft for me Romanoff?” she scoffed before her face fell into an expression of momentary confusion, in a split second you both had your guns pointed at each other “who are you? How do you know my name?” the carefree Natasha was gone now, and in her place stood the infamous black widow.
Deciding that hiding your identity from her was pointless now, you attempted to attack, kicking the gun from her hand and vaulting to get your legs around her neck to choke her. Unfortunately for you, that was textbook red room and a trick Natasha had used countless times on enemies of various sizes. Blocking you, the Russian pinned you, one hand on the small of your back and the other at the back of your neck, holding you down “I knew I should’ve spent the night alone.” Refusing to be defeated so easily, you swept her feet out from under her, but once you got up, she’d punched you in your side causing you to double over in pain. She moved to her gun but you weren’t the star student of the red room for no reason, in the blink of an eye, you had a knife to her throat.
The both of you had stood there for a few seconds, breathing heavily before you felt a familiar feeling of cool metal, the barrel of a gun, through your thin shirt. “You didn’t think I just had one, did you?” she said pressing it into your side in warning. Gritting your teeth in frustration, you released her with a shove and dropped your knife with your hands raised.
“If it was anyone else, in any other situation, I would’ve shot you and be done with it, but you’re intriguing, there’s a story behind this. I trust you won’t pull anything?” she asked watching you stare down the barrel of her Glock. You nodded once, albeit grudgingly. To your utter surprise, she placed the gun down and gestured to a chair on the opposite side of the table and sat down herself. You’d utterly demolished the rest of her kitchen with your fight. Sitting in the chair rigidly, Natasha raised an eyebrow at your silence, you noted how if you made a run for it, she had the ability to shoot you before you even stood up with the proximity of her hand and her gun. Her gun, you had the exact half to the one on the floor across the room, your gun. You furrowed your eyebrows, you had one half of the twin guns, the other half was hers. But that didn’t make sense, unless there was a reason why she’d seemed familiar to you?
Natasha seemed to think the same, her eyes flickering from the gun just inches away from her fingertips to the one across the room, hers had your initials engraved at the bottom, and yours hers. But you’ve never understood why there was two letters engraved on to your favored gun “N.R. Natasha Romanoff” you said, more to yourself than to her. She spoke two letters, your name.
“What is this, who are you?” you said struggling to even out your breathing. “y/n y/l/n” she said. “no it cant be” she said disbelief streaked over her face. “The red room is gone, I killed Dreykov” she said shaking her head and pressed the heels of her hands to her eyes “I hate to break it to you, but Dreykov is very much alive” you said “I’m a widow, I was sent here to kill you, you’re a threat to them” you said staring her directly in the eyes. “Whatever you did, unsuccessful” you said. “do you even remember me?” she said a crease in her forehead and looked up at you “you seem familiar. But no, not really” all hostility had gone out from both your voices, you were both just doing your jobs
She started humming a song, the music sounded eerily familiar, the same feeling you’d felt previously looking at her painted lips flooded you. Familiar, but the memory was just out of reach. “with the lights out, it’s less dangerous, here we are now” she started singing softly “entertainers” you breathed out disbelievingly. It suddenly came rushing back to you
When you’d snuck a radio from your trainers’ office
When you’d sneak out of the cuffs on the beds at night to share hidden kisses with each other
How you’d trained side by side
How a redheaded girl had been by your side when you threw up on your first kill
Natalia. Natasha. You had loved her in secret, between the shadow and the soul. You had loved the stars too fondly to be fearful of the night.
Shock was written clearly over your features. You hadn’t seen her since she’d gotten out, ten years ago. Now that you remembered, you couldn’t believe you didn’t recognize her. The same fiery red hair, same eyebrows, same emerald green eyes, same smile. Same Natalia.
Guilt rushed in like an overwhelming wave, Natasha couldn’t believe that you were still alive, she’d attempted to search for you, almost went crazy when you went completely off grid after the Budapest mission. She’d meant to defect, and then go back for you. She had it all planned out, but you seemed to vanish off the face of the earth “I’m sorry, y/n. I’m so sorry, I tried, I really did. You were just gone, I thought you were dead” You stared back at her in shock “its okay, we were separated, I was sent to Italy, remember? It wasn’t your fault.” You said still in a daze
After moments of confusion over how you didn’t remember someone that important to you, an expression of realization found its way onto your face. Memory removal, of course. The red room had the technology, attachment to anyone, anyone at all was nothing but a weakness. Love is for children, that was what the red room had burned into the widows’ minds.
Hatred shone in your eyes when you realized that Dreykov had practically had his scientists cut the part of you that had loved Natasha out of your brain. “you’re an avenger. Means Dreykov won’t hurt you” you contemplated “or your comrades” you supported your chin on your heel of your palm. Natasha nodded slowly in confusion. “They can’t afford to” she said “so if I was your comrade, they would lose any and all ability to do me harm” she nodded again “I suppose so, yes” when you both locked eyes again, you both knew what the other was thinking. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” Natasha asked with a smirk “to burn the red room to the ground? Yes.” You said with a matching smirk
If love was for children, you were both toddlers. After everything the red room and the world had done to keep you apart, you had somehow found your way back to each other again. And you weren’t planning on letting her out of your sight any time soon.
180 notes · View notes
m4tthewmurd0ck · 3 years ago
Text
𝐒𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐩 𝐄𝐝𝐠𝐞𝐬 ~ (𝐓𝐨𝐦 𝐇𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝) 𝐏𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐞𝐫 𝐱 (𝐅𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞) 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫!
𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫: 【 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑 】
word count: 2.1k
【 𝐜𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 】
Tumblr media Tumblr media
     AS PETER ENTERED THE SHOP, HE WAS GREETED BY MJ. “Peter Parker!” She had less than half an hour in her shift, and it had been a relatively busy day.
“What does MJ stand for?” Peter knew he couldn’t just come right out and call her Michelle Jones, then she’d definitely never talk to him again. And she may call the police, thinking he was some sort of stalker.
“Tell you so that you can call me by my full name too? Where would the fun in that be?” She shrugged, “that’s for me to know, and for you to not find out.”
They talked for a few more minutes, and it made Peter genuinely happy, even though the conversation was so simple. This was also the longest they’d talked, and it felt… normal. Of course it wasn’t really, because Peter remembered everything, and in MJ’s mind he was just a customer that came in for a cup of coffee nearly every day.
For the remainder of her shift, there was a steady stream of customers, so Peter just sat quietly at the counter, sipping his coffee and chatting with MJ whenever she had a free minute.
“Ready to go?” Their heads turned as Ned entered, waving when he saw Peter. “Peter, right?”
“Y-yeah. Ned? It’s good to see you again.” It pained him to have to pretend that he barely remembered his name. And not go right up to him and do their secret handshake.
“I have to wait a little bit,” MJ explained. Mentioning that you were closing tonight and that you should be here any minute because your shift starts in a few minutes. She was interrupted by you, out of breath as you stumbled in.
“Sorry. I accidentally took a nap and only woke up like 15 minutes ago,” you paused, still catching your breath.
“It’s cool, you’re normally always early so don’t sweat it— hey, are you okay? What happened to your face?”
Your eyes widened, but you quickly recovered and hoped that no one noticed your alarmed facial expression. “Oh, I just tripped going up the stairs, must’ve cut my chin on something when I fell. I’m okay though.”
(((hailee the love of my life, this is what i’m picturing with your injuries. cut on your chin, maybe a couple more on your cheeks. nothing maaaajor but obviously something happened. we’ll get to that later.)))
Tumblr media
MJ and Ned nodded in understanding, saying they’re glad it was just up the stairs. Ned pointed out it would’ve been a lot worse if you’d been walking down.
Peter, on the other hand, was a lot more skeptical. If you did fall, okay fine the cut on your chin was explained. But one of your cheeks looked a little bruised, and there was another cut on the opposite side of your face. It was mostly hidden by your hair, but he still saw it for a second when you turned.
Still, he decided to leave it for now. Whatever it was, you clearly didn’t want anyone else to know about it.
MJ and Ned ended up staying another 10 minutes after MJ’s shift ended, just talking to you and Peter. They finally left to go to some evening meeting about acceptance into MIT. Ned mentioned that they obviously didn’t start yet, being in high school still, but as soon as he saw that the meeting was about the upcoming academic year, he knew they had to go.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Peter asked you not long after a group of customers had left. It was just the 2 of you in the shop now, and he noticed you rub your shoulder a couple of times. Now he was growing concerned.
“Oh y-yeah, I’m fine. I’m just clumsy,” you chuckled, immediately turning to clean up something behind you.
A million scenarios went through his head. And he was about to ask how you really got those cuts, but, he didn’t.
You’d only just met, and you only know him because he comes into your job every day. Sure you’ve met outside of the coffee shop once, but that was just to study. He was worried about what might happen if he pushed you and asked a question that you weren’t willing to answer.
What if you got upset and didn’t want to be his friend anymore? Or what if he somehow made things worse?
Peter hung around for another hour before deciding he should probably leave. He’d long since finished his large coffee, and it was probably weird that he hung out and wasn’t eating or drinking, right?
When the rest of your shift went by faster than normal, you were extremely relieved. Your entire body ached, and you just wanted to go home, relax, maybe even use a bath bomb and some of those fancy bath oils you’d randomly picked up one day.
In record time, you had the place cleaned up in 15 minutes.
“Hey there beautiful,” a voice called out just before you had a chance to lock the front door before heading to the back to count the cash.
You froze, instantly recognizing the voice. After you’d been bothered that one time, you thought that was the last you would see of that creepy buy. He hadn’t been back in to the shop, and you hadn’t seen him around anywhere since.
“Good night,” you nodded politely, not bothering to smile. You were about to ask him to leave since the shop was closed for the night, when he grabbed your arm, pulling you towards him.
“What, I’m not good enough for you?” He scoffed, and you could smell the alcohol on his breath.
“It’s been a long day and I just want to finish up this shit and get home,” you tried to pull your arm away, but his grip only became stronger. You regretted saying that though. Now when you left the shop you’d have to aimlessly wander around for a little while to make sure he wasn’t following you, otherwise he’d know where you lived.
The smirk on his face only grew. “Oh well why don’t I just hang around here and walk you home?”
“Look, I’ve tried to be polite but that clearly isn’t working. I wasn’t interested the first time and I’m still not interested now. Please leave me alone, I don’t want to hurt you.”
“Hurt me? Hah! Listen here you little bi—”
“Hey sweetheart sorry I’m late,” Peter walked in to the shop, putting his arm around you and pulling you close. “Can we help you?”
The man rolled his eyes. “No but you can leave, the lady and I were just talking—”
“Really? Because it didn’t seem like that’s all you were doing. And I’m pretty sure she asked you to leave.”
“Look bro I don’t know what your fucking problem is, but the lady and I are just having a conversation. What is she your girlfriend or something?”
“One, I’m not your bro. Two, what she is, is none of your business. And three, last I checked, “no” was a full sentence. She said no, so why don’t you just walk away?”
The guy paused for a moment, internally debating whether or not to start a fight. He looked you and Peter up and down before turning around and storming out. As he was leaving, he mumbled something about how he was too good for you anyway and he was doing you a favor.
Peter wasn’t worried about the guy getting away, he’d put a tiny camera the size of a button on his hoodie. He’d done that a while ago incase he was ever out just as Peter and something happened. He was thankful he’d worn this hoodie tonight, and Karen was already running facial recognition, so Peter decided he’d deal with him later.
“Hey, you alright?” Once the guy was out of sight from the shop, Peter finally dropped his arm from around you and turned to face you. He discreetly touched the “button” to stop recording, and was thankful when you didn’t notice.
You stared off into space for a few seconds before snapping out of it. “Yeah I-I’m okay. Thank you.” You stood in silence for a moment, before a thought suddenly occurred to you. “What were you doing here?”
Now it was Peter’s turn to freeze for a moment. He couldn’t tell you the truth. He was out patrolling as Spider-Man, remembered that you’d be closing bo yourself, and he’d purposefully stuck around the area to make sure you would get home safe.
When he was on the roof of the building next door, and he saw a guy walking down the street looking into store windows, Peter jumped down into an alley and quickly changed back into his normal clothes. He thought if he stepped in as Spider-Man, it might cause even more trouble. The only mistake he felt that he made tonight, was waiting too long. By the time he’d exited the alley, the guy had already gone inside.
In the end, he decided to go with a version of the truth.
“Well, I couldn’t sleep. Sometimes I’m up pretty late, and I remembered you said you were closing by yourself, so I wanted to make sure you were okay. Sorry about the whole ‘sweetheart’ thing, I figured there was a better chance that he’d back off if he thought…”
“Oh, well thank you. I really appreciate it. Sorry if I seem so freaked out, I just thought he wasn’t going to be a problem and I’ve dealt with worse so—”
Now that definitely caught Peter’s attention. “Wait what? Are you okay??”
You wished you could crawl into a hole. “Yeah! Sorry. I just mean that, umm, back where I used to live before this, it was a rough neighborhood. And he was pretty tame compared to other people I’ve encountered.” You were relieved when Peter didn’t question you further.
“Are you sure you’re fine?”
You shrugged. “Shaken up mostly, I’ll be alright though.”
“Are you done, closing up? I figured I’d stay and walk you home incase we run into that guy.”
“Umm, no I actually have to count the cash from the register. Would you mind waiting a few minutes? It shouldn’t take me long.”
As soon as Peter nodded, you rushed into the back. Just 5 minutes later you locked the money in the safe, and followed Peter out the door.
Silence fell over you as you stepped outside, both shivering a little from the cold. The walk home was almost too quiet, and Peter was worried. But he didn’t say anything, wanting to give you time to gather your thoughts and sort of process what happened.
Neither of you spoke as you entered the elevator, and it wasn’t until you were both standing in front of your doors about to put keys in the locks, that Peter said something.
“Hey, if you’re not going to bed anytime soon, do you want to maybe come over? N-not if you… you know, not if you’re tired or anything. I just, I don’t know, sometimes it’s good to talk to someone.”
“You don’t have to stay up for me, you’ve done more than enough tonight,” you smiled. You wanted to accept his offer, but didn’t know if he was only asking to be polite.
Peter shook his head, “I don’t mind, promise. And if it helps, I’ll probably be up for a little while anyway. My apartment is pretty bare and I finally went out and bought some things, figured I’d get the decorating over with.”
“If you’re sure, yeah, that’d be nice. I’m just gonna shower and get out of these clothes though, so I’ll come over in a bit?”
After telling Peter that you’d text him when you were ready to head over, you headed into your separate apartments. And it wasn’t until you locked the door, that you finally allowed yourself to cry.
After a moment, you realized why this had you so shaken up. Times like this just reminded you of all of the things that you’d lost. More specifically, the people. Your parents hadn’t been around since you were 12, but you imagined that now at this age, this was the kind of situation where you’d run to them, crying about what happened.
You allowed yourself to imagine that they’d hug you, comfort you, and tell you everything was going to be alright. Then again if they were here, you wouldn’t have gotten into that situation. You’d have gotten a job near your family home, and wouldn’t have encountered that man.
But you knew you were being irrational. It wasn’t fair to get angry at them for something they obviously couldn’t have controlled.
You hated yourself for feeling these things and thinking these thoughts. You were telling the truth when you told Peter you had dealt with much worse people. So why did this have you so shaken up?
Tumblr media
tag(s): @silverwindptv​
if you’d like to be tagged when i post for this story, let me know via my ask box! simply mention the title of this series, or just the character name if you’d like to be tagged in everything written for them :)
35 notes · View notes
theodora3022 · 4 years ago
Text
Once upon a (fever) Dream
Relationship: Scaramouche x Reader (Gender neutral)
Summary: Scaramouche is unwell with a fever, it's your responsiblity to take care of your superior. Little did you know, overhearing his fever sleep talk would turn your life upside down.
Author's notes: I'm trying to get back into the writing groove! Scaramouche has been on my mind a lot ever since the lore of the pale flame set was datamined. If you are interested in the theory I based my fic on, one of my dear mutuals made this informative post. This is pretty tame and more of a psychological analysis more than a fic tbh.
I will not take any criticism on the theory.
Warnings: SFW, Character study-ish, abundance of internal monologues, use of swear words, hints of speculation on Scaramouche's backstory/identity, power imbalance, possessive and obsessive behaviour, trust issues(??)
Tumblr media
"Another day Feelin' like no one really knows me It's okay At least I'm used to being lonely"
-Jake Daniels "The Show"
Scaramouche is having trouble distinguishing the dream realm and the waking world. Tch, this always happens when he falls ill.
Dreams. Stupid, meaningless things he cannot control. Scaramouche is never a fan of them. Sleeping is just a way to recharge one's energy for the following day, so why is this petty factor even a possibility? Memories mixed with random shit. Fever dreams are even worse, because he cannot force himself to wake up, and they might even allow forbidden information to be exposed.
The Balladeer seldom falls ill. But when he does...he needs some subordinates to look after him. Not that he got any other option.
Unpleasant to work with? Talks way too much? Eh, not that he cares. Scaramouche does not see the need to present himself as likeable. Like is a temporary, fragile concept compared to fear.
There was a time in his long life, he thought he was loved...the love he received turned out to be nothing more than one of his past naive self’s delusions in the end. No, it is meaningless in being nostalgic over that.
Damn this Moronic fever, stirring his mind all messy...
Fear is a better alternative, more secure and firm.
"Sir, it's time for your medicine." You knock, hesitating when there is no granting of entry from his end.
This unfortunate task: taking care of the bedridden harbinger has fallen onto you as of late. Being the newest recruit in his sector, of course, your seniors would throw this troublesome work to a rookie like you.
The optimal approach is: Do what you are supposed to do as a subordinate, sprint through the doorway once you complete your tasks. Being in his room longer than needed will only result in harsh insults. That foul mouth does not seem to know any mercy.
"Sir?" You ask again, mentally preparing yourself for the possible scolding before turning the doorknob. Letting yourself in is not a wise idea, however, this is your obligation. Lord Balladeer would be even more upset if you had brought in the medicine at the right time.
"No...Please don't...I promise I'll be-" Is that, sleep talking? Oh archons, why?
Those facial expressions are not pleasant ones. A nightmare, great.
Is there a way to unhear things? You sure wish there is. Scaramouche's life before his service has always been a popular topic of break time gossip among the Fatui. Some say he is of noble birth from that arrogant attitude, some say he comes from a peasant family, there are even absurd speculation about him being a fisherman before. However, his subordinates know better than to gossip in his presence. No rumours were ever confirmed or denied.
Who knows what he would do if the Harbinger catches you "eavesdropping". The mutterings have quiet down now, but you still have paperwork to attend to after this(that he assigned you).
"How much of that did you hear?" Just when you are contemplating whether to poke the sleeping bear or not, that menacing violet gaze has already fixated at you. Did he sleep talk? Scaramouche is uncertain. Still, it is always better to be safe than to be sorry.
At least he’s awake now, no need to wake him anymore. You said to yourself quietly. “Not much, my lord. I will forget everything as soon as possible. Now, time for your medicine.”
That scent makes Scaramouche’s stomach churns. A pot of dark goo and a plate of sugared plums, just like yesterday and the day prior. Wait, wasn’t he-
“How do I know that you don’t go whisper to your friends?”
Efficiency and resilience. Those are the two essential qualities one must possess if one wishes to remain in Scaramouche’s service. He may be a difficult superior, but his sector gets a relatively decent chunk of field missions, therefore it is easier to move up the ranks for new recruits. Who knows when you would get a promotion if you just deal with financial transactions in banks under Pantalone.
Perhaps it is sight of the oh so mighty man in such a fragile state, you are feeling...braver than usual. “My lord, what do I have to gain from gossiping?” Do you focus on unscrewing the cap of the pot, sounding somewhat amused? That unnoticeable curl did not escape his eyes.
When was the last time a recruit dared to look him straight in the eye like this? Scaramouche has no recollection. That immense headache is not helping either. Whatever, what matters now is making sure you do not go slipping off what you heard to others.
After handing the utensils and the pot to your superior, you head outside, prepared to stand in the hallway until he finishes the pot.
“Did I give you permission to leave?”
Aren’t you curious about what he is hiding? Humans love to pry by nature, right? It’s not the first time he had to dispose of those who know too much after all.
“Do you need anything else, my lord?” Of course, he’s not gonna let you off the bat that easily. What were you thinking? Deep breathes, (y/n). It’s not like he is going to electrocute you in this state.
“I wish to keep this head on my shoulders.” In an organization like the Fatui, new recruits are seen as resources that can be disposed of if needed. No one would blink an eye if you were to die of “accidental” death.
“You say that, but your eyes tell a different story.” Since when does he care about what is going in the minds of his subordinates?
“Sir, you can deal with me once you are fully recovered. Her Majesty, the Tsaritsa needs you in top condition as soon as possible.”
Gulping down the thick porridge, the little man then lied down, trying to sleep the fever away. The sensation of the quilt moving almost made him jump, he thought you had left the room already? What do you think you are doing?
Did you pull the quilt up to his chin? It’s not like he needs that cloth, but...this notion.
He’s so adorable when he’s sleeping. You thought as you walked through the door.
Did you just… tuck him in?? That is what’s that called right? Arranging the covers for someone?
You really should know better than treating your superior like some infant. However, that is not a mocking gesture. Scaramouche supposes he’ll let this one slide.
As the door shuts behind you, you hummed a cheerful melody, trying to not think about what would happen once he’s back on his feet. Hopefully, he will let you live on if you try hard enough to prove your usefulness.
You are reckless. You have no idea what you got yourself into.
He just had the perfect way to make sure his secrets remained in safe hands.
Someone else would take care of your current position. What would that leave you? Hmm, a personal assistant would be fitting for someone as caring as you. Personal, somehow he likes the sound of that already. Scaramouche had loathed the idea of having someone tend to his daily life, complete independence is a goal he always strives to achieve. Now...that idea does not seem that horrible after all. Do you even know how to brew tea? You’ll have to learn if not, and quickly too.
His past must remain a secret until the situation calls for it, that much is certain. Unstable variables should be placed under constant surveillance, and Scaramouche can only rely on himself to guard something as important as this.
(A/N: Thank you for reading this character study fic!! Relogs and comments will be greatly appreciated!)
295 notes · View notes
wizardimagines · 4 years ago
Text
jealousy, part 2, draco x reader
pairing: draco malfoy x reader word count: 1,6k summary: you and ron becomes closer as you help him study, draco doesn’t take this new relationship well. a/n: here you guys go !! part 2 of jealously,, i’m in shock as to how many of u liked part one !! i’ve gotten such amazing feedback and it makes me super happy so thank u so so much <3 i’m gonna be completely honest tho and let u guys know im really unhappy with this one , i feel like it could be a lot better and i might actually rewrite it at some point . but hopefully it’s somewhat ok, enjoy !! <3 READ PART 1 HERE
warnings: TW !!! mentions psychical abuse
───✱*.。:。✱*.:。✧*.。✰*.:。✧*.。:。*.。✱ ───
The following week was exhausting. You hadn’t seen Draco for a couple of days, doing everything you could to actively avoid him. The truth was you were scared. You were terrified, to say the very least. You had no clue what to say to him at this point, afraid that you were just going to make him even more upset than he already was. You didn’t even know if you two were a couple anymore, and the thought of it made your heart shatter into a million pieces.
You also distanced yourself from Ron. You knew the whole situation happened because of your friendship with Ron, and the only solution you could come up with was simply to stop being friends with Ron. He had approached you multiple times, asking you if you were free and wanted to go study, but you had declined each offer. You felt absolutely terrible, you truly did like Ron and you enjoyed spending time with him. But you knew your relationship with Draco was more important than any friend you had and at this point, you’d give up everything to fix your relationship.
It felt so hopeless. You skipped every class you had with the blond boy, you didn’t even dare look his way whenever you walked into the great hall to eat breakfast, petrified of your eyes meeting his icy ones. Today was no different. Everyone was in class, everyone but you. You knew you would have to face Draco sooner or later, today was just not the day. You were sitting in the library, trying your best to distract yourself by reading a book. However, it wasn’t going too well. You couldn’t focus on any of the words and your thoughts kept wandering off, thinking about other things. Suddenly, a warm hand was placed on your shoulder, making you snap out fo your thoughts. ‘’Why aren’t you in class, Y/N?’’ A similar voice said behind you, making you turn around so you could see who the person was. In front of you stood Ron. ‘’Ron,’’ You let out, feeling somewhat relieved it was only Ron. You shut the book close as the red-haired boy sat down in the chair next to you. ‘’You scared me.’’ You chuckled lightly, looking down at your lap where your hands were resting. ‘’Sorry about that,’’ Ron answered. ‘’But why aren’t you in class?’’ He repeated himself. 
You didn’t know what to tell him. You knew it wasn’t a secret that you were avoiding Draco, but you still couldn’t bring yourself to admit it. ‘’I just,’’ You started, biting your bottom lip nervously. You were still staring at your hands,  nervously playing with them. You just couldn’t bring yourself to look at the boy in front of you. ‘’I have to go.’’ You blurted out, quickly standing up. ‘’Y/N! Wait,’’ Ron let out behind you, standing up as well. ‘’What’s going on with you?’’ Worry lingered in his voice, and you couldn’t blame him.
You felt your bottom lip starting to tremble. That was when you noticed the tears that were welling up in your eyes, making you shut them close to prevent the tears from hitting your cheeks. ‘’Whatever it is that’s going on, I’m here for you, you know?’’ He said, placing his hand on your shoulder once again. You took a deep, shaky breath as you turned around and fell straight into his arms. You could tell he was surprised, but quickly wrapped his arms around you. You let the tears fall silently down your cheeks. ‘’Hey, it’s okay,’’ He mumbled as he stroke your back using one of his hands, the other one holding the back of your head. ‘’I think Draco broke up with me,’’ You quietly whispered into his shoulder, tears still falling from your eyes. ‘’Bloody hell Malfoy,’’ Ron muttered under his breath, pulling you closer to him.
At this point, you didn’t even care about the whole ignoring Ron thing you had planned to keep until you fixed things with Draco. The feeling of someone holding you and being there to comfort you finally made you feel a little bit better. Ron’s warm hands were nothing compared to Draco’s cold, lanky hands but it didn’t matter at this point. ‘’I’ll walk you to your dorm,’’ He mumbled as he pulled away from the hug, spotting your tear-filled face. He slowly wiped the tears away using his thumbs, making you nod. ‘’You can start walking, okay? I just need to go get my things and then I’ll catch up with you.’’ He said, giving you a small smile. You nodded once again, giving him half a smile.
The halls were empty. You weren’t complaining though, you didn’t want anyone to see you like this; like a crying mess. You slowly walked down the hall, taking your time as you looked out each window you passed. The weather had somewhat cleared up, dark clouds still covering the sky. ‘’Y/N?’’ A voice suddenly called out, making you turn your head to the side. And there he was. His eyes were dark, not the usual bright blue color they always used to be. As soon as your eyes met his, your heart dropped. You felt your throat tighten up as you felt completely paralyzed. You felt your eyes widen as you suddenly realized that you had to get away, quickly. You turned around, quickly making your way down the hall without saying a word to the blond boy. ‘’No, wait!’’ He shouted behind you, grabbing your wrist.
Your wrist. The same wrist he had grabbed that night. The same wrist that now had a bright red mark from his tight grip. You felt the pain shot up your arm, making your eyes well up with tears once again as you cried out in pain. You quickly snatched your wrist away, holding it with your other arm as you bit your lower lip in pain. Draco looked at you in confusion before looking down at your arm, spotting the red mark. He felt the guiltiness and pain hit him all at once. His heart dropped as he realized it was him that had left that mark. ‘’Y/N,’’ He whispered, his facial expression softening. You quickly looked up at him, tears falling from your eyes as you took a shaky breath. He slowly reached out to you, making you jump. 
He froze. ‘’I’m not going to hurt you,’’ He let out, pain and shame lingering in his voice as his eyes teared up. ‘’Please don’t be scared of me, I would never hurt you,’’ He continued, shaking his head as a tear hit his cheek. Draco had never felt such pain. He had felt pain multiple times during his lifetime, but nothing could compare to the pain he was currently feeling. You just stood there, staring at the boy in front of you. You didn’t know what to say or do, so you just let the tears fall down your cheeks. ‘’I’m so sorry, please let me hold you,’’ He mumbled as he tried his best to hold back the rest of the tears, slowly walking towards you. You watched as he got closer to you, terrified of what could happen next. But Draco slowly put his arms around your waist, burying his head between your neck and shoulder. You felt a sob escape his lips.
‘’I’m so sorry,’’ He kept repeating it over and over again between sobs. You slowly wrapped your arms around his neck, you had never seen him in this state before. ‘’I don’t know what happened. I was just so angry,’’ He sobbed. ‘’But why?’’ You whispered back. ‘’Because I really thought I was losing you,’’ Draco responded. You slowly pulled away, Draco looking at you in fear as you did so. ‘’Please don’t go,’’ He whimpered, his bottom lip trembling. You grabbed his hands as you shook your head. ‘’I’m not leaving, Draco.’’ The boy in front of you closed his eyes as he grabbed onto your hands harder, like he was scared you were going to leave anyway. ‘’I’m so sorry for saying all those things,’’ He cried, pulling you back into a tight hug.
This time he placed his head on top of yours, placing one hand behind your head and the other one on your back. ‘’And I’m so incredibly sorry for hurting you like that,’’ He whispered. You pulled yourself closer to him, placing your head on his chest. You could hear his heart racing, as well as his shaky breath. ‘’I will never lay a finger on you again, I promise,’’ He continued, making you sigh. ‘’Please just hold me Draco.’’ You whispered, causing the taller boy to pull you closer to him immediately. You closed your eyes as a tear escaped from your eye, Draco pressing multiple kisses on top of your head.
You knew it would take a while to forgive Draco, but it didn’t matter. You were willing to do anything for him, just like he was willing to do anything for you. ───✱*.。:。✱*.:。✧*.。✰*.:。✧*.。:。*.。✱ ───
TAGLIST: @justmesadgirl @thefandomplace @kodydoescrap @slytherinsunrise @xdracosmalfoyx @imjustboredso @lexi-ravenclawdracomalfoy @retrouvailessx @night-girls-world @andressavp @inurealiyah @lilgoddesshines @iamaspicytriangle
1K notes · View notes
katsukifatale · 3 years ago
Note
Kaishin for No.10!! That sweet, sweet attempt to resist each other 😆
this will eventually go up on ao3 so when it does pls go give it some love 😅
partially under a cut because it's a long boi.
-
there is nothing sexier than a well-planned, perfectly executed heist, kaito thinks.
he’s shucked up against the storage room on the roof of the hotel he’d stolen from that evening, watching the confused taskforce officers try to figure out how to tackle their latest failure. the gem in his pocket — not pandora — will be mailed anonymously to the inspector’s police station tomorrow. he’s alone up here on the roof — something he’s gotten a little pathetic over since tantei-kun stopped showing up at his heists. he knows why, though — it’d been the only story in the media for days on end. fbi, cia, secret police joint take-down lead by a mysterious detective, left unnamed for his own safety.
it’s no coincidence that kudou shinichi shows up just when tantei-kun disappears — off to america for witness protection, or so he hears.
kaito takes the gem out of his pocket, needing something to occupy his fingers while he waits for the police to clear out down below. he idly wonders what could be taking them so long and flips the gem gently over his fingers in a line, feeling the smooth top of it slide cooly along his skin.
it’s nice to have his theories proven — or well, they might as well be proven, even if there’s no proof. he hasn’t talked to kudou yet, but he’s looking forward to the day when kudou is well enough to return to matching wits, because he can only imagine how much more fun that’ll be when he’s the right size.
he tosses the gem up into the air, and that’s when it all hits the fan.
there’s a loud bang from his left, where the roof door should be, and a desperate shout of his name, and then a heavy weight is bearing him down to the cement. he goes with a surprised yelp, not managing to catch the gem on his descent. almost immediately after, there’s another bang, and a zip, and this he recognizes very easily — a high caliber gunshot.
he glances up to see who is on top of him — and his breath catches, because —
“k-kudou?!”
it’s kudou. kudou is on top of him, one arm around his shoulders and the other taking his weight as he looks up at the building across from them and snarls. his body is — his shoulders are wide, his waist narrow. his legs are thick like a soccer player’s, and his weight is enough to press into kaito without crushing him — a solid presence of safety, and he’s real and here and —
why is he —?
kaito’s fingers curl up in kudou’s jacket — when had they gotten there? — and without looking down kudou moves his hand from kaito’s shoulder and presses it warmly to his face. he must be looking for a signal, kaito thinks dazedly. in the other building.
“kid. you okay?” he asks. “could’ve shot you, what were you doing —”
grown-up kudou is attractive when he’s angry, kaito thinks.
“are you?”
kudou looks down at him, and his pretty mouth is a straight line.
“okay, i mean,” kaito clarifies. his brows furrow and he takes in the exhaustion ringing kudou’s features. “should you be here? you look…”
“dead?” kudou supplies. kaito can’t hide his wince with their faces this close, and kudou’s expression gentles and his thumb swipes across kaito’s cheek. “i’m fine, kid.”
“excellent,” kaito says faintly. “good.”
kudou stops paying attention to him, which is dandy. it gives kaito ample time to study his new facial features. he’s got a boyish charm to him — cute cheeks and a tapering, sharp jaw. he looks fierce like this, hot and intense, eyes glowing with the lights of the city. his eyelashes are long and thick and dark against cheeks flushed with adrenaline. he’s so handsome it’s unreal.
his mouth is easily the prettiest part about him. his lips are pink and chapped, probably from being bitten. kaito has lost control of his limbs or something, because his hand is moving without his brain’s permission, thumb pressing gently into the center of kudo’s bottom lip, fingertips curled up under his chin.
“kid?” kudou’s eyelashes flutter and his damp breath washes over kaito’s thumb.
“i’m going to kiss you,” kaito says, and watches in satisfaction at the darkening of kudou’s eyes.
kudou’s eyes flick back up to the building, ever the professional, but he licks his lips and murmurs, “okay.”
and then there’s a crackling sound coming from kudou’s ear, and kaito can hear a faint confirmation of target acquisition, and that takes both of their attentions.
“target?”
“snake,” kudou says. “now that the main part of the black organisation has been taken care of, we’re going after the remnants. snake is one that’s been worrying me the most. you — your heists —”
kaito makes an aborted sound and makes use of the hand that’s all tangled up in kudou’s jacket to yank him down, and finally kisses kudou square on the mouth.
heists are officially ruined. he’ll never be able to face off against kudou at a heist again without thinking about his mouth and the way it opens up for him almost immediately, or the way kudou’s hand on his face slides down to press solid against his chest.
“welcome back,” he says once they break apart and he gets his breath back. he feels more than hears kudou laugh above him, and oh lord, that swell of feeling he gets at the sight of that lopsided grin.
“good to be back.”
heists are sexy, but kudou shinichi is definitely sexier.
send me kisses
67 notes · View notes
wiener-soldiers · 4 years ago
Text
so, you’re real - tommy shelby
summary: while high off his ass, tommy shelby is approached by a mysterious woman offering him something more valuable than drugs: information. your services become essential to how tommy conducts business, but your anonymity means he can’t help but fall in love with you from a distance.
words: 5.4k
pairing: tommy shelby x fem!reader (race non-specific)
warnings: tommy shelby. that’s the warning.
a/n: first tommy fic :D he’s one of the most beautifully complex characters ever in television imo but that also means his kinda nightmare to right. so,,, he might come off a little ooc because he’s very soft!tommy in this. i also wanna write a tommy fic based off ‘why’d you only call me when your high’ by arctic monkeys for obvious reasons.
masterlist | add yourself to the taglist! | faq
Tumblr media
Tommy Shelby could count the number of people who’s seen him high as a kite on opium with three fingers. Arthur was the first; he drukenly stumbled into Tommy’s room instead of his own one night and the smell of the pipe sobered him enough to start asking questions. Tommy shoved him out and by the morning, Arthur was too hungover to remember a thing. The next was Polly; Tommy stumbled down the stairs as he was high around three in the morning once as he searched the house for more booze. Polly watched from a distance as he sat himself on the kitchen table and wept, squeezing his eyes shut and covering his ears with his hands. She chose not to mention it the following morning, but a perscription for morphine found its way to Tommy’s desk a few days later.
The third person... was you.
You didn’t know the Shelby’s personally. You were the assistant of a local Small Heath accountant that dealt with Birmingham’s most infamous clients: local coppers, factory owners, politicians, even gangsters. Your boss was known as the Devil’s Safe—nothing that came in went ot without the client’s consent.
But you weren’t a saint. Being so close to his office at all times and knowing far too much about where the most influential people in Birmingham got their money and where they spent it, it was nearly impossible to keep your mouth shut.
So, you didn’t. At a price, of course.
You quit your job and created a small network of spies that could feed you information about anyone or anything at anytime, using your knowledge about the Devil’s Safe as leverge. You charged whoever could afford for your services, coppers and criminals alike. Some self-righteous copper tried to shut you down once. Keyword: tried. There were too many spies all over the city to try to arrest (that is, if he could find grounds to arrest them), and you were too important to too many important people that arresting you would likely have him assasinated.
That, and you tipped him off about a corrupt police captain who had been trading orphans for cash. It got him a promotion and you a protective shield over your dealings from the coppers.
Tommy first met you at the races. You were hanging off the arm of Roberts, Billy Kimber’s advisor, and he briefly caught your eye before returning his gaze to Grace who stared at him lovingly. He didn’t know it then, but you were analyzing him. His posture, his facial expressions, how he spoke to Kimber, and most importantly, his books that Roberts happened to have a copy of. Nothing went unnoticed by you. The Shelby’s were starting to cause ruckus all over the city and you were interested. But, to maintain your facade, you snuck a few kisses to Roberts’ neck to distract him from your snooping.
When Tommy returned to the table with the bag of cash his brothers had collected from the Lees, you were gone.
---
The second time he sees you, he isn’t even sure if it’s you.
It’s late at night as he approaches The Garrison when he notices Polly standing with another figure in the alley. He slows his steps and silences his breathing, trying to catch the end of your conversation.
“You’re sure this is where she is?” That’s unmistakingly Polly’s voice.
A soft chuckle rips through the air and Tommy suddenly wonders what your voice sound like. “There’s only so many women carrying a newborn and looking that terrified of what may be behind her,” the other voice says. It’s not soft or angelic, Tommy notices. Nothing likes Grace’s. It’s deeper, smoother, and he can almost hear the smirk in her voice.
“How do I know you’re not lying to me?” Polly asks back skeptically. Tommy has the common sense to realize she’s talking about Ada who had gone into hiding after Freddie was arrested. Polly hadn’t been able to stay in the same room as him for very long since.
You pull out another envelope from your coat and teasingly dangle it in front of her. “Here’s the list of all of Ada and Freddie’s known addresses. The Communists have them move every few weeks; the address I gave you is Ada’s current address. Go there tomorrow from seven to nine in the morning. Ada’ll still be in bed and Karl will still be asleep. Then, you’ll know I’m right, you’ll give me the full payment, and I’ll give you the rest of the addresses.”
Tommy is slightly stunned at what he’s hearing. They had been trying to look for Ada for nearly two weeks to no avail, but this woman was able to find her that easily?
The woman turns to walk away before Polly can respond and in the street light, Tommy can make out the outline of your face. It was so brief that he couldn’t tell if you were actually there or if he imagined your face in the darkness.
Polly doesn’t notice him as she makes her way back inside the pub. The following afternoon, Polly is pounding on his office door saying she’s found where Ada had been hiding.
---
The third time he sees you, he’s sitting in the empty Garrison with a bullet wound in his shoulder, whiskey coursing through his veins, enough meloncholy and anger to swim in, and a broken heart.
Billy Kimber was dead. Campbell was gone. But, so was Grace.
It was a series of emotions he hadn’t felt in a long time: relief, then anger, then happiness, then frustration. Then the shovels started. Then, it all got too loud and he slipped his opium pipe into his coat pocket before going to The Garrison to drink his sorrows away. He had never taken the pipe out of his room before. In that state, he didn’t care.
He doesn’t really know how you got in; he had angrily yelled at everyone to leave the bar when the night was late enough for him to feel emotion and locked the door behind him. Maybe I didn’t lock the door right, he thinks. In reality, you had picked the lock.
“I could’ve told you she’d been working with him,” your voice calls behind him. He’s still hunched over his drink, the pipe lying next to a nearly empty bottle of whiskey. He didn’t need her to clarify who she was talking about.
“You could’ve, eh?” Tommy mumbles dangerously. He felt light, but his eyes and his heart felt heavy. He hated the feeling. Oh god, he hated it.
“Hmm,” you hum back, taking a seat next to him. You reach behind the bar and pull out a bottle of gin and poor yourself a drink. Tommy watches you do so. You don’t look like you pity him, in fact, you don’t even look at him. Instead, you focus your attention on the drink.
After taking a sip, you reach into your coat jacket and pull out an envelope, slidding it over to Tommy. You had clearly seen the opium pipe that still had smoke coming out of it, but you gently pushed it out of the way so the envelope rested in front of Tommy’s drink.
“What is this?” he asks, still too high to think straight.
“Consider it a resume,” you quip back, taking another sip of your drink as you study the collection of liquor and spirits on the back shelf of the bar.
“For what?”
“My services.”
“You a fuckin’ whore? You think that’s what I need right now, eh?”
“What I think you need right now, Mr. Shelby, is a sense of security. To be ahead of the enemy. I can give that to you,” you reply smoothly, barely flinching. Tommy notices your voice doesn’t falter even at his jab. He begins to sober up, finaling looking at you.
You had an air of mystery and intrigue. Your eyes looked all-knowing and the corner of your lip was quirked. A white blouse was tucked into a deep red skirt with your black wool jacket overtop of it all. If he was a different man, he surely would have taken you home.
“Why are you telling me this?” he finally asks.
You look back at him, the smirk on your lips growing. “Because I quite like your family. Polly is quite intelligent and Ada is a delight. I also know far too much about you, so it’d be a shame if someone paid be good money to tell them everything there is to know about you. But if you came to me first, there wouldn’t be much of an issue. The rate for ratting out one of my clients is ridiculously high.”
So, it had been you with Polly that night, he thinks. “You’d work for me?” he asks again, tone getting more serious. The last time a woman worked for him, it didn’t end particularly well.
You laugh and Tommy is momentarily stunned. It’s a beautiful laugh that appeared in an awful moment. “I don’t work for anyone, Mr. Shelby.”
And then you left. Tommy stares a the door for a few minutes after you’ve left, wondering if he had imagined your visit the whole time. When he turns back to his drink, the envelope you left behind is a sign that you had been real. He hesitantly opens it and his jaw unhinges at the contents inside: there were several documents, reports, and even pictures tying Grace Burgess and Inspector Campbell together. It seemed so plain and simple once it was laid out in front of him.
Under the flap of the envelope was an address as well as a rate of service. It was high, Tommy couldn’t deny it, but he also couldn’t deny how the pressure on his chest eased for a moment when he was with you. Even more so when you had left the address.
The next morning, a wad of cash from Shelby Company Limited shows up at one of your drop locations. It’s more than you asked for and quicker than you expected it to come. You smirk softly and get to work.
---
Tommy doesn’t see you again until he pays a visit to Sabini’s club a few years later as he works on his London expansion. He had been a client of yours for nearly two years now and he was continuosly impressed with your work. You literally had eyes everywhere; there wasn’t a place between Manchester and Brighton that you couldn’t get to. You had been the one feeding him inside information about Sabini’s operations in London, as well as how to get Alfie Solomon’s attention.
Despite all this work, he hasn’t seen you since you approached him when he was high in the empty pub. He gets all his information through courriers, telephone calls from messengers, and packages from drop locations all over the city. He asked a courrier once why he hasn’t seen you since.
“No one really sees her, sir. We just get orders in one way or another, we excecute them, and then money shows up. She doesn’t want anyone to tie her to her clients or the boots on the ground.”
“She’s clever.”
“She’s bloody brilliant, is what she is. She’s set up this system so bloody tight that no one really knows how it works except her. One lad up in Coventry tried to turn her in. Went missing a few days later.”
He doesn’t think about you often, but when he does, he’s reminded of that night in The Garrison; how mysterious and beautiful and dangerous you looked, how his chest seemed less tight with you around. Maybe he’s imagined it. Maybe it was the opium clouding his vision. So, he pushes those thoughts away because as far as he’s concerned, you’re an enigma.  Hell, he doesn’t even know your name and he’s been paying you big money and giving away too much of his plans.
But he sees you that night when he and his brothers storm Sabini’s club. You’re sitting on a fancy velvet lounging chair, tucked under the arm of what Tommy assumes is a wealthy banker or socialite. You don’t see him (not yet, at least) but Tommy sees you. All Tommy sees is you. The smoke that flows out of your nostrils as your lips curl at whatever attempt at humour then man with you made draws Tommy in. So does the cut of your deep blue, satin dress. He knows it then, that you’re real. That you’re not a figment of his imagination.
“This place is something else, innit?” Arthur remarks as they make their way deeper and deeper into the club. Tommy is still drawn to you as his brothers gawk at the permiscuous behaviour around them.
The party atmosphere doesn’t last long however, as the boys make a show out of trashing the place. Tommy makes sure to put on a performance, to play up the fear. When he shouts something along the lines of being on a holiday, he happens to catch your eye and the first thing he notices is the smirk playing on your lips. He’s first confused as to why but he understands: you had a large part of the London expansion and you also likely knew that Tommy was going to be there that night. You weren’t there with a man. You were there to see him. You were there to see his reckoning.
The image of you tattooed itself onto Tommy’s brain and the feeling he felt in his chest was something he craved to feel again.
---
The next morning, the brothers stumble into Ada’s home, uninvited. Their younger sister begrudgingly lets them in, still clad in her nightgown, and hastily tells them to keep their noise level down as Karl was still sleeping.
It doesn’t last very long.
“You shoulda seen their bloody faces, Ades!” John hollers, mouth full of biscuits and tea. Ada hisses at him for spewing food across the table.
“Didn’t know what was coming, the lot of them,” Arthur adds, already taking a sip from a flask. He was barely sober from the night before and it wasn’t even eight in the morning. “Fuckin’ Sabini, Ada. He won’t know what’s bloody comin’.”
“Sabini, eh?” Ada plays along, still slightly annoyed but now intriguied. “You didn’t happen to hit up his club last night, did you?”
“’Course we did!” John snickers. “What’d you think we’d do, start small?”
Ada’s facial expression suddenly changes into one of slightly more concern. Arthur and John don’t notice, but Tommy does. “I was hopin’ you would,” Ada plays it off but Tommy notices.
“Ada?” he asks, voice stern but eyes curious. His sister was intelligent, so much so that her mouth was as good at getting her out of trouble as it was getting her in it. Tommy was sure that there was more than what she let on.
“Tom?” Ada says back, not meeting his gaze and instead taking a bite out her toast and jam.
“Why’re you so hung up on Sabini’s club?” Tommy asks  directly, slowly getting tired of his sister’s semantics. He mommentarily understands how Polly feels when he keeps things from her.
Ada sighs, having also attracted attention from her two other brothers. She sets down her toast and looks directly at Tommy. “You saw her, didn’t you?”
“Saw who?” Arthur asks, booming voice too loud for the sudden change of tone in the room. Ada grimaces but still stares at Tommy.
Tommy knows exactly who she’s talking about. But he wonders how Ada does.
“I did,” he says simply.
“Who’re you talkin’ about?” John asks next, looking between his siblings. Arthur shrugs at him.
“Did you say anything to her?”
“No.”
“Good,” Ada says too quickly. Tommy narrows his eyes at her.
“For God’s sake!” Arthur says again, slamming his tea cup back down onto the table. “Who in the bloody hell are you talkin’ about?”
Ada rolls her eyes and continues eating and Tommy is left to stare at his brothers. He wants to answer. He wants to answer so badly. But he doens’t even know her name.
“I—” Tommy trails off. He’s rarely rendered speechless, but he is when it comes to you. Who were you? Why did Ada know you? Why can’t he get you out of his head? Why does he hope you’re standing there in the shadows every time he steps out on the street?
“You? You what, Tom?” John asks this time, equally as exasperated.
“He doesn’t know and it should stay that way,” Ada says simply. “She offers you a service, you pay her, end of transaction. Stay away from her Tommy, I mean it.”
“What service?” John asks again, still getting more questions than answers.
Tommy sighs, rubbing a hand over his face. “After Grace, she offered me a service. Cash in exchange for information. Said she knew that I needed a sense of security.” She was right, Tommy thinks but doesn’t dare say.
“Information about what, exactly?” Arthur asks, voice dropping an octave as he leans forward.
“Everything. Anything and everything. She knows everything. I don’t have the slightest clue how,” Tommy answers honestly, his own disbelief being obvious for the first time.
“She can betray us...” John warns, skeptical especially after Grace.
“She won’t,” Ada says simply.
“How do you know?” John challenges.
“She won’t,” Ada reaffirms with a glint in her eye. John immediatley backs down. Ada doens’t trust easily, especially after Freddie.
Tommy believes her. You know too much, far too much. More than he or you had bargained for. You also gave too much. Tommy asked for one thing, you gave him what he wanted and more. Tommy wanted a brief description of the shipping business in Bristol, you gave him an itemized list. Tommy asked you to keep an eye out for any potential threats, you gave him incredibly precise weekly reports. He asked people what your service was like as if he didn’t already know himself: you were never this thorough. He knew you wouldn’t betray him because you would have done it already. The question is, why did Ada trust her?
“You know who she is, don’t you?” Tommy asks his sister once again, doing his best to intimidate her. It’s no use.
“I do,” Ada says simply.
“Even her name?”
John scoffs. “You don’t even know her bloody name and you’ve got that look like you’re in love? Jesus, Tom! You need a good fuckin’, I’m telling you.”
Ada ignores her brother’s comment. “Even her name.”
Tommy gestures for her to elaborate and Ada hesitantly continues, “Polly paid her to find me after Karl was born. She found me personally, not through a messenger. We got along quite well, she was very honest about what she’d been hired to do. She gave Polly that information she was looking for, but we kept in touch. Personally, I mean. I like her.”
“Tell me her name, Ada.”
Ada makes a face of fake appeasement. “Can’t do that, sorry Tom.”
Tommy’s jaw clenches. “Ada...” he warns.
Ada’s glare mathces his own. “Her identity is all she’s got Tommy. The minute a client knows who she is, it all falls apart. For the love of God, for your safety and hers, don’t find her.”
And hell, does Tommy want not to listen. He wants to find you again. To see you. To speak to you. To learn your name. To feel the weight in his chest lighten once more.
But you remained impossible to find. Even with his London expansion, he wasn’t any closer to finding out who you really were than the day you first spoke to him at The Garrison.
So, he tried to push his thoughts away. He didn’t get so lucky.
---
He was used to receiving messages from you on Sunday evenings before the week began and Thursday mornings before the week ended. Sometimes, they’d be in the form of a phone call from a messnger reading a message written by you. Other times, he would visit a drop site where he picked up parcels of information and evidence you had collected. Fridays were paydays, so he’d get a Blinder to drop a parcel of cash (though they never knew it was cash) at a drop site and wait for a courrier with a blue ribbon pinned under the lapel of their overcoat to retrieve it.
All your foot solidiers and clients wore the ribbons. You avoided paper trails so everything was with symbols. Ribbon colours were a discrete way for both the client and the courrier to tell who was who. Clients wore white ribbons, courriers wore blue ones, messengers wore green ones, and red ones were used for emergencies.
That’s why Tommy panicked when a man burst into his office late at night the day before he was set to take down Sabini, urgently lifting his lapel to show his red ribbon.
“What’s happened? Are we in danger?” Tommy asks immediatley, standing up from his chair.
“No, sir,” the foot soldier said. They were never allowed to say the names of clients, only sir and ma’am. “I have a message from her. It was urgent and couldn’t have waited until Thursday.”
The man gives him a sealed envelope before bowing and leaving as quickly as he came. Tommy checks to make sure that he is alone before ripping it open. It wasn’t a message, but a phone number and the word clairvoyant scribbled quickly with fancy ink.
Tommy furrows his eyebrows but picks up his phone and dials the operator. The other end picks up immediately. He hastily says the number he wants to be patched through to as well as the word scribbled below it. The operator says nothing else and he hears the phone ring again before a female voice finally picks up.
“Mr. Shelby, I was waiting for your call.”
It was you. Tommy’s heartbeat quickens. You continue to speak, oblivious to his shock, “I don’t make calls myself unless absolutely neccassary. You don’t need to worry about privacy; I have connections with the operating center that patched you through. They won’t say a word to anyone, telling them that you called and they won’t be listening.”
Truthfully, Tommy hadn’t even been thinking of that. He was still slightly shocked that he was hearing your voice, the same voice as nealry three years ago. The opium fucked with a lot of things, but not his sense perception. Your voice was as beautiful as he remembered it to be.
He forces the thoughts out of his head and finally speaks. “What’s happened? Is there an emergency?”
“You aren’t safe at the races tomorrow. There will be an attempt on your life.”
Tommy is not entirely surprised. “I’m sure you can put two and two together; what I plan to do at the races is practically a suicide mission, dear. Of course there’ll be an attempt on my life.”
You scoff at the other end of the line. “Mr. Shelby, I’ll rephrase: you may succeed in your plan tomorrow, but something will catch you off-guard. Something big.”
“What is it, then? If you’re so sure,” Tommy challenges, but is taken aback by the silence.
You sigh, defeated at the other end of the line. “Mr. Shelby, I’ll be honest. An Inspector Campbell approached me this morning, asking for my services to give him everything I knew about you plans tomorrow. I took his money.”
Tommy’s jaw clenches. “You called me to tell me you’re a fuckin’ conspirator against me now, eh?”
“I resent that. There’s a reason I ask you not to tell me anything about your business aside from what I need to know to do my job,” you snap back. “Campbell gave me money to tell him information I didn’t have. So, I took the money and told him lies. He didn’t pay enough money to turn me against one of clients anyway and I don’t negotiate.”
Tommy laughs in slight disbelief, “You clever bloody woman.”
You can’t help but grin at the other end of the line. “He let it slip that he had something planned, though. That you weren’t getting out of this alive. Thomas, I don’t know what and I don’t have enough time to find out, but you needed to know,” you say before soflty adding, “I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I didn’t tell you.”
Tommy nods solemnly before saying, “That’s the first time you’ve called me Thomas.”
You laugh and Tommy’s heart clenches at the sound. “Is that what you choose to focus on?” you ask, amused despite your worry.
“I’m not afraid of death. Not anymore,” Tommy answers.
“It’s a shame. There seems to be a lot in your life that’s worth living for,” you reply, your voice softer that Tommy’s ever heard it.
“Will you do me one final favour? Take it as my dying wish.”
“Thomas—” you start before he cuts you off.
“Can you tell me your name?” he finally asks, but he’s met with silence. He clears his throat and adds, “Please?”
You sigh at the other end. This is not how you were supposed to conduct business. Anonymity was the only thing keeping you from being excecuted at the hands of the Crown or a crime-boss. But here the feared Thomas Shelby was, asking as his dying wish to know your name. You don’t know him aside from your brief interactions and stories from Ada. But strangely, you trust him with the key keeping your identity safe.
“Y/N. My name’s Y/N.”
---
The following evening, Tommy trudges home covered in mud and blood. His encounter with the face of death was anticipated, but still left him scarred. Despite his success against the races and against Sabini, he felt trapped. With a success in the business, he still finds himself indebted to Winston Churchill. He’s exhaused of this cycle and in the moment, he embraced his fate just a little.
As he pushed the door to his home open, his eyes are immediately drawn to crackling fire. He hadn’t expected anyone to be home, as the family was staying in London with Ada to celebrate their successes.
So the sight of you, sitting on his couch and staring into the fire shocked the life back through him.
He takes of his hat and stares at you in slight disbelief. “So, you’re real.”
You turn to face him and the tension previously present in your features fell and the corner of your lip quirked upwards. “You’re alive,” you state the obvious.
“The Devil’s tried too many time to kill me, I’m starting to wonder if God does exist,” he says plainly, taking off his coat and taking a seat on the other end of the couch from you.
A small laugh escapes you. “He has jokes, does he?”
Tommy smiles softly but shakes his head and stares at you. “You’re really real. I was starting to think I was imagin’ ya.”
“Ada says you’ve been asking about me.”
“I have. She wouldn’t tell me your name, though.”
“You got it anyway.”
“Who’s to deny a man his dying wish?” Tommy darkly jokes again.
“I can’t go back to operating how things were. Even you knowing my name is too much,” you say softly, turning back to the fire. You were slightly frustrated with yourself. Years and years of building a network built around your anonymity destroyed by one man. Deep down, you felt that it was time.
“I wouldn’t tell anyone,” Tommy says simply.
“But you’d want to be in my life,” you say back, still not looking away from the fire. “I’m a woman, but I’m not stupid. I know why you tried to look for me.”
Tommy sits back and watches her. A woman’s never been more direct with him before. Even Grace, who had just asked him to lay with her one final time before moving back to America at the races, had never laid out what she saw so simply and bluntly before. She was right. Tommy wouldn’t tell anyone your name if you asked him to, but he would still want to see you. The only thing more painful than not knowing who you were was knowing and still not being able to see you.
“You could start again,” Tommy says. He barely recongizes the softness in his own tone, but he decides the change is good. “You could work for me, have your men join the Blinders if they wanted.”
“I don’t work for anyone, Mr. Shelby,” you say again cheekily, reminding him of the first time the two of you spoke. You turn to face him and stop to admire his beauty—how the fire cast beautiful shadows across his face, how the moonlight sparkled in his eyes.
“That you don’t,” Tommy hums in agreement, still looking at you. His gaze hadn’t left you since he came home.
It’s silent for a few moments before Tommy says, “Stay.”
“With you?” you ask in slight surprise.
“With me, in Small Heath, with the company—whatever you want. Just stay.”
“You barely know me.”
“Then let me get to know you, Y/N,” Tommy answers, finally saying your name for the first time. He loves the way it spills off his tongue and you equally adore the sound of his voice when he says it.
You nod softly, agreeing with his hearfealt proposition. The two of you spent the rest of the night staring into the fire, allowing your heartbeats and breaths come into sync as you slowly fell asleep.
---
It’s been five years since you had started working for Shelby Company Limited as Tommy’s senior advisor and security specialist, four years since your network of spies had merged with the Peaky Blinders, three years since you and Tommy got married, two years since you gave birth to a set of twins named Benjamin and Mae Shelby, and one year since you had also become a political advisor to your husband and his allies in Parliament.
With your years together, the Shelby family found you to be an intriguing, fascinating, and intimidatingly wonderful woman. They couldn’t comprehend how right you seemed with Tommy. They also couldn’t comprehend how involved you were in their success without them even knowing who you were. However, they love to poke fun at Tommy for basically falling in love with from two interactions.
You were currently at the Arrow House doing the final touch-ups to your makeup for the gala you were hosting in your home. It was a typical charity ball that made sleezy politicians look good in the eyes of their constituants, but you had pressured Tommy to allow you to host it on behalf of the Shelby Family Institute. He had been skeptical, but relented when you reminded him that it wasn’t about giving them a platform to look good, but using their ego to benefit the institute.
“I’ve put the children to bed,” Polly announces as she walks into the master bedroom. The room is obscenely large with a king sized bed in the middle, but Polly can’t help but feel pride every time she visits. It was the both of your hardwork that you got you here and she was proud. “Ben passed out almost immediatley, but you’re right about Mae. She’s a trouble maker.” 
You give Polly a smile through the mirror of the vanity you sat in front of, “Thank you, Pol. Really.”
“Where’s that bastard husband of yours?” Polly jokes as she stands behind you, inspecting her pearls in the mirror.
“His study, no doubt,” you joke with a slight smirk.
“The faith the two of you have in my is astounding,” Tommy says sarcastically, immerging through the en-suite dressed in his tuxedo.
Polly rolls her eyes and leaves the room, leaving the couple to stare at each other.
“You clean up well, Mr. Shelby,” you state, smiling as he approaches you. “Though I’m not sure if that’s because of you or your OBE.”
“Sometimes, I wonder if I should have continued loving you at a distance,” he comments humourously.
You laugh—a real laugh—and wrap your hands around his neck while his arms immediately find themselves around your waist.
“How’re you feeling, darling?” Tommy asks, referring to the mental and emotional preparation for the event that was about to start downstairs.
“I’m not the biggest fan of a lot of your colleagues, Tom,” you say honestly. “Their wives however...they give me thousands of pounds worth of information every sentence.”
“You never cease to amaze me with that mind of yours,” he tells you honestly.
“And you never cease to amaze me with how verbally affectionate you can be,” you quip back lightheartedly before Tommy softly kisses your lips.
“How ‘bout this?” he says once you pull away. “I take care of getting donations, you take care of getting more leverage on the labour bill I’m looking to pass.”
“Done,” you say with a smile before Tommy kisses you again. You begin to hear cars pull into the driveway when you try to pull away, but he keeps you close.
“Tom,” you giggle, breathless. “Tom, the guests are arriving.”
“I’ve waited for you for years, they can wait for you a little while longer,” he replies with a smirk before kissing you deeply once again.
415 notes · View notes
eideticmemory · 5 years ago
Text
PERFORMANCE | MATTHEW GRAY GUBLER
Tumblr media
Description: You film a sex scene with Matthew Gray Gubler, and have a big urge to try it off camera.
Word Count: 2,953.
Rating: M.
Warning/Includes: Sexual intercourse, choking, 18 year age gap between adults.
You filmed the sex scene in one take.
The cool air trailed over your bare breasts as you laid against the bed, Matthew’s torso between your legs, his lips on your neck. You had never done a sex scene before, but you knew it shouldn’t have felt this good. You knew your moans should’ve been fake, your facial expressions exaggerated, your body working in an absentminded rhythm. But you found yourself trembling, weak, releasing breathy moans into his ear. All from the feeling of Matthew creating friction between your legs. In an unscripted moment, he gropped your boobs in his hands, and the force sent your back arching. You became so focused on the sensation of his body, the heat trapped under the duvet cover, and his lips as they pressed against yours, the eyes of the crew were drowned out - long forgotten.
When the director yelled “cut!” you pined for Matthew’s lips, the sudden loss of them leaving a bitter feeling in your stomach. Holding eye contact with him, you allowed him to help you out of bed. He promptly handed you your robe, and you couldn’t help but watch as he began to put on his own. Your eyes raked down his body, studying his skin, his torso, his chest, his hips. Your arms folded over your chest to hold the clothing in place, you quickly removed yourself from set and disappeared for the rest of the day.
It would be hours before you got over the feeling. The intensity, the passion, and the pure embarrassment of allowing to let yourself get carried away. It was silly to think a man, of Matthew’s status and age, would find a way to express any sexual attraction towards you. It was wildly unprofessional of you, not to mention completely inappropriate considering the 18 year age gap. But, fuck, you couldn’t help but think about it.
After a substantial amount of time locked away in your dressing room, you finally gathered the courage to head out and head home. You kept your head down as you went to exit the set, eyes trained on your feet. Headphones in, you weren’t sure someone had called your name, but you still stopped in your tracks. When you turned around, one earbud in your hand, you saw Matthew, racing over to you. 
“Hey,” he smiled. “You going home?”
“Yeah,” you shrugged. “Tired.”
“Aw, man,” he sighed. “I was hoping we could, uh, run some lines together? Prepare for tomorrow’s shoot? But if you’re tired, then—“
“I’m not tired,” you interrupted him. The words flowed from your mouth before you could catch them. “We can run lines. That’s-that’s cool.” 
He gave you a soft smile, his eyes peering into yours. “Awesome. My trailer?” 
You gave him a speechless nod, still attempting to catch your breath at the sight of him. You followed him into his dressing room, with him opening the door for you to grant you entrance. You stepped in shyly, and set your bag down on the couch. 
“Nice place you got here,” you said.
He closed the door behind himself and laughed, “Thank you.”
You dug your script out of your purse and sat down beside the accessory, flipping through the pages awkwardly. “So, what scenes did you want to rehearse?”
“How about,” he whispered, holding his own script in his hands. “Our second love scene?” 
You cut your eyes up at him, your breath caught in your throat, “You teasing me?” You pouted.
“Teasing you about what?” He smirked. 
You shyly shook your head, and looked down at your toes as he took a seat beside you. “I’m sorry,” you whispered. “Sorry if I made you uncomfortable.”
Matthew’s eyes went wide, the shock of yours words having him taken aback. “Uncomfortable? [y/n],” he chuckled under his breath. “You made me...the complete opposite of uncomfortable. I might have been, um, a little too comfortable. It’s a sex scene. It happens.” 
“What do you do...um, when-when it does happen?” You couldn’t bring yourself to look him in the eye, but you could see he was smiling. 
“Just rehearse,” he shrugged. “Get aquatinted with the other until you fall into your own groove.”
“Wow,” you looked up at him, a sly smile on your face. “So much wisdom.”
“Is that a jab at my age, kid?” He gasped, trying to keep from laughing. “Because I gotta tell you, that hurts.”
“No, no,” you shook your head. “So, let’s get aquatinted then. Um, page 67?” You asked, pinning the paper in your script. 
He nodded, “Yep. So, again, we have to improvise the scene. The initiation, the tension, the act itself.”
“Right. So...how should we start?”
“Hm...” he hummed. “Can you start reading your lines? We can do some quick improv.”
You shrugged, “Sure.” 
You set your script down and began to recite the words from memory, staring at the space across from you as directed, and putting on a somber face. “I don’t know why you came here,” you murmured, presenting a voice on the verge of breaking. “You want to sit here and pretend to care about me, when we both know that’s not the case—“
Matthew watched you for a long time before he started kissing your neck, “I wanted to see you,” he breathed against your skin. “I had to see you.”
You draw in a shaky breath, feeling Matthew’s hand on your leg. “Had to see me? See me? You-you haven’t called me since...since....” You trailed off, Matthew’s lips now tracing your jaw with soft kisses. His mouth felt nice. Like it was meant to be on your body. 
“You okay, [y/n]?” Matthew whispered in your ear. By now, your bodies were pressed together, your shoulder leaning into his chest as his hand moved to your inner thigh. 
“Yeah,” you replied. “I’m fine.” 
“You don’t get touched often, do you?” He asked. 
You sucked in a sharp breath, and only shook your head no in response. 
“How?” He kissed your cheek. “You’re so beautiful.”
“I’ve never...” You licked your lips. “Never...never, um...”
He pulled away from you instantly, his eyes concentrated on your face. “You’re a virgin?” 
You looked away as you nodded. “And please don’t give me the whole ‘22-year-old-virgin’ speech. I know it’s lame.” 
“Hey, look at me,” He pressed his fingertips into your chin and lifted your head up. “It’s not lame. Not at all.” 
“However,” you spoke quickly. “I’m-I’m not entirely attached to this virginity. I’ve been meaning to get rid of it, actually.”
He looked at you for a moment, and scoffed, “[y/n]...”
“What?” You whined, turning to face him. “Did you not see me earlier? I’m a complete mess for you.” 
“I don’t want you to regret this. I don’t want you to feel pressured or uncomfortable or anything like that. And I don’t want you to regret choosing me.”
You stood to your feet, calmly positioning yourself in front of him. You pulled your shirt over your head and dropped it to the floor, your bra following. You began massaging your breast as he watched. “I could kind of tell...that maybe, you liked these.” 
He bit his lip, “Fuck, [y/n].”
You boldly straddled his lap, pressing your boobs into his chest. “I...I don’t want to pretend anymore.”
“You...have no idea what you’re getting yourself into,” he whispered. “At all.”
You placed a sweet kiss to his lips, “Show me. Please?” 
So, he did. He kissed you, fiercely, and had you laid out on the couch in seconds. He expertly removed your shorts and panties, tossing them to the other side of the room. His enjoyed the view of your body as he kneeled down between your legs. “You’re so beautiful,” he told you. “And so lucky.”
“Lucky?”
“Yeah,” he nodded. His finger presses against your clit and rubbed you in small circles. “Because I’m taking it easy on you tonight.”
You gulped, and started pant at the small touch. You watched him as he leaned down and kissed your labia. “You’re already so wet,” he commented. He drew a finger over your slit, “Here, see?” He placed the covered fingers against your bottom lip and you instinctively opened your mouth to suck on it. 
“Good girl,” he purred. “Perfect.”
He dove his head in and ate you out. There's something about the way Matthew does it. Like he's starving. Like he's dying and you’re the cure. Like he's in the desert and you’re the only drink of water. He devours you. Completely buries his face and presses his tongue down with so much force, it sends chills up your spine. His hands are tight on your thighs as his tongue encircles one spot on your clit, the one he knows drives you wild.
Embarassingly quickly, your orgasm built in your stomach. When you first noticed it, you began to pull at Matthew’s hair. Push his head away, clench your thighs together. But he only responded by swatting your hands away, putting one hand around both your wrists and the other on your breast. 
“M-Matthew,” you whimpered. “Ah, fuck, I—“
He looked up at you, his eyes peering into your soul from under his eyelashes. He sped up the velocity of his tongue, the muscle applying immense pressure to your bundle of nerves. 
“Mm,” you whined, attempting to pull your hands from his grasp - no success. “Please, please, please.”
You tried so hard. So hard. But it was good, and it was Matthew, and you came. His name falling off of your lips and your chest heaving up and down. He rolls his tongue along your slit, the stickiness covering his mouth. He stared up at you, hungrily, “So, so lucky.” He whispered.
Matthew pulled a condom from his pocket, and hovered over you as he pulled his pants down to his thighs and released his cock. You licked your lips, to which he gave you a knowing smile. Condom on, he sat beside you on the couch, “Ride me.” He commanded.
“What?” You murmured. “I-I don’t know how to do that.”
He chuckled, “I’ve got you, just come sit on my dick.” 
How can you say no to that? You sat up and straddled his lap once again, body shaking with anxiety. 
“You okay?” He asked. 
You nodded, holding yourself up on his shoulders. His hands guided your hips as you slowly, very slowly, sunk down onto his cock, the length and girth filling you up. You let out a vulnerable whine, biting onto your lip. 
“Stay with me, babygirl,” he said. “You’re doing so good.”
With his erection fully buried inside your, you fell against his body, sitting completely still. He asked if you were okay again, and you replied by sitting up, looking him in the eye and saying a quiet, “Yes.”
“Okay,” he whispered. His hands gripped onto your ass, waiting to guide you. “So, you’re just gonna raise your hips up, like this,” he pushed your thighs up, his cock pulling out of you about halfway. “And then you’re gonna come back down.” He relaxed his arms, allowing you to take his length back inside of you. 
Immediately adjusting to the movement, you started to bounce on him, slowly, awkwardly, and he loved it. 
“Oh, yeah,” he moaned, leaning back to watch you. “Fuck yeah. There you go, baby. You got it.”
You smiled at the encouragement and absentmindedly started to rock your hips faster, the sensation of his dick sending you into a trance. 
“Fuck, fuck,” he swore. “Your pussy is so, so fucking good. Give it to me, beautiful, give it all to me. I want it.”
That’s when you lost yourself. You supported yourself by placing your palms on his chest and continued to ride him, quickly, eagerly. Beads of sweat formed on your forehead and you couldn’t stop your jaw from dropping. You’d been touched by other guys, kissed by other guys, eaten out by other guys. But it wasn’t like this. Nothing was ever like this. 
"Look at me," he said. "Look at me."
There's a hint of pleading in his voice, but just enough power to compel you to open your eyes. 
“Let me pound you,” he requested. “Hm? Let me make you come on my dick, huh?” 
And before you could fully nod, he stilled your hips, grasping them in his hands and angled himself before slamming into you. You threw your head back and let out a guttural moan. Shivers racked your body as his hips picked up this new momentum, fucking you so hard and so fast that the couch wobbled. 
“Ah! A-Ah!” You cried out.
“C’mon, [y/n], you can take it. Say you can take it.”
“I-“ you stuttered. “I can take it. I can take it.”
“Mhm, yes, you can.”
Staring into Matthew's eyes while he's pounding into you is a religious experience. When you open your eyes and make that first bit of contact, his jaw drops and this strangled moan came out. 
"Is this good?"
"Yes."
"Tell me it's good."
"H--huh—fu--it's good."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah."
"How good?"
"So good."
"Say it again."
"S--so good."
It is. It's so good. He buried his face in your neck, making the loudest groans possible against your skin. And you felt his tongue licking from the base of your neck to the edge of your jaw, slimy and icky and drool dripping down your skin. So dirty, so disgusting, Jesus christ. He knows the spot. The one right on your jaw line that sends you over the edge. And he sucks on it endlessly while one hand begins to play with your boob, teasing the nipple between his fingers. Then there’s his tongue again, making it's way to your ear. 
"Say my name."
"Oh, my G--god."
"Say it." And he nibbled on your ear. Your eyes rolled back. "Who's fucking you?"
"M-M-Matthew." 
"Who?"
"M--fuck-Matthew."
He found your clit, such ease, such speed. He presses his middle finger down, the pressure alone making you squeeze his bicep with all your strength. You squeaked, you gasped, you trembled, you tensed up. "Fu-ck."
And he rubbed in circles, quick, hard. Hard. 
"A-ah. Fuck. M—Matthew, please." There were tears in your eyes. Literal tears. He looked at you and wiped them away, not breaking the gaze for a second.
"Oh, baby, you're so close."
You nodded.
"Your legs are so tense, you can b-barely hold your eyes open, your pussy's so tight, fuck." 
You were so, so close. 
"Am I right?" 
"Yes."
"About what?"
"I'm gon-Ah! I'm gonna come."
"Yeah?"
"Uh-huh."
"Then do it." And his hand moved at super sonic speed, the motion of his fingers moving at almost the same tempo as his hips.
That did it. The curve, the fingers, the way he looks at you. You threw your head back. You came. It was good. It was long. His hands. Your throat. Fuck.
“Oh, come on, baby,” he cooes. His hand smacked your face, lightly, just forceful enough to pull you from your daze. “Don’t wear out on me now. That was only number two. I know that’s not all you’ve got.”
“Matthew,” you whimpered.
“Hm?” His hips have slowed to this sweet, tempered rhythm, the tip of his tongue pressed against your bottom lip. The steady pumps send shivers through your spine. “Do you want to stop, baby?” 
You dug your nails into his shoulders, your eyes soft and pouty, misted with tears. 
“[y/n],” he calls. “Say the word, and I’ll stop.”
“I don’t want you to stop,” you shook your head. Quickly, harshly, your face flushed and your body quivering. 
“That’s my girl,” he murmured. “Can you give me one more? Just one more, baby.” 
“Matthew, I can’t,” you whine. “I can’t, I can’t come again.”
“Yes, you can, you can give me a third one. Watch,” His thumbs locates your clit once again, the mere touch drawing a shaky moan from your lips. “One more, baby. That’s all I want. Just one more. Can you do that for me?”
You nod, weakly, holding his face in your hands. 
He's real good about making sure you come again. But when you do, after you ride it out, it's all about him and you’re all for it. He grabs you  by the throat and watches you tremble, sticking his thumb into your mouth. 
"Fuck. Fuck!" he moans. "Mm, am I being too rough?"
Rough? Yes. You could feel him in your chest he's pounding you so hard. It's sloppy and uncoordinated and you feel like you could come again in seconds with the amount of force he's using. 
"No. Keep going." You begged. 
"Fuck." His voice, so dark, so deep. 
He grips onto your throat harder and leans in. "Where do you want it?"
This man is so hot.
You do nothing but stick your tongue out, exposing your throat. He laughed and nodded, biting his lip as he pushes into you harder and harder. 
The transition from your pussy to your mouth was quick. The second he was down your throat, he came and he held onto your hair while he did. He tensed up, eyes screwed shut and head thrown back. "Agh! Uh! H-huh! Fuck. Fuck."
What calms you down, after the waves and waves and waves of intensity, is the sound of Matthew’s heartbeat. You end up with your ear pressed to his chest as you two bundle up on the couch, your fingertips tracing his sweaty skin. 
He kissed your forehead, “You okay?”
“Thought you said you were taking it easy on me tonight.” You giggled. 
“Oh baby,” he huffed. “That was easy.”
3K notes · View notes
louiseleblancdiggory · 4 years ago
Text
Speedy one night stand part 2
Part 1 here
“Ok, so do we go over our story again?”
“We did that a thousand times. Relax, they’re not the brightest.”
Aelin smiled, resting her back against the hospital chair. Even though only one day had passed, Rowan was already feeling infinitely better. His wrist still hurt like a bitch, and it would probably remain like that due to the surgery, but the rest was just some small ache.
Differently from the previous day, this morning Rowan had woken up to an empty room. Aelin had decided to go home around eleven, promising to be back in time for them to go over their plan one more time, but a part of Rowan wondered if she was actually going to be back. It wasn’t a usual situation, and now that she knew he was not dying, maybe she wouldn’t feel any responsibility over him at all.
It had worried Rowan more than he liked to admit.
And yet, she had returned today. Just a few hours after Rowan woke up, Aelin walked into his hospital room. She was her bubbly self, walking through the door while oozing so much excitement and brightness that it was like the sun lodged itself in the room. She plopped down on her usual chair, barely bothering to create small talk before jumping right back to what they had discussed the previous night. Aelin wanted everything to go perfect— had said that she had grown up with a cousin who made her quite competitive when it came to pranks.
Forty five minutes later, they had gone over the details twice, flirted shamelessly every now and then, and Rowan had the pleasure of seeing Aelin play the distressed wife in front of three different doctors.
The woman was a devil.
Rowan couldn’t help but smile.
“When do they get here?”
“You’re so impatient.” Rowan grinned, slowly turning his non-shattered wrist. “Has anyone ever told you that you’re impatient?”
“You and my cousin would be such great friends.” Aelin gave him a sweet smile.
“Sounds like a nice guy, then.”
“He isn’t.” Aelin’s sweet— and oh so fake— smile widened. “A fucking asshole, if you ask me.”
Rowan snorted, looking at the door just in time to see five guys turning around the corner and walking in the direction of the room. A diabolical smile grew on Rowan’s lips, and he turned to Aelin who had a raised brow. “Show time.”
Just like the devil Rowan thought she was, Aelin returned his smile.
———————
Honestly, she shouldn’t be this excited.
Tricking a bunch of men she had never seen in her life should not be that high in her list of priorities. And yet.
Part of her wanted to stay at the hospital yesterday, make sure that Rowan was ok during the night. Even though they had just met, Aelin felt a weird connection to him. Not love— because love at first sight is bullshit—, but she definitely cared for him as a friend. But the doctor insisted that there were no chances that Rowan’s condition would get that bad over night, and so Aelin went home.
She could barely sleep, and in the morning she rushed to get to the hospital.
Because of the prank, of course. Not because of Rowan.
And now that his friends were actually there, that the plan was actually in action, Aelin was having some small doubts.
What if they tell the hospital she’s lying? What if that doctor loses her job? What if—
“Rowan!” A blonde haired man ran through the door, followed by four others. Just like Rowan, all of the men were massive. Tall, muscular, and almost sucking all the air in the room with their presence.
They were all so focused on Rowan that none of them even paid attention to her sitting by a corner in the room, and Aelin used that time to transform the smirk on her lips into a loving smile.
“Fucking shit, Whitethorn.” The tallest of them— the only one as tall as Rowan— said. His pitch black hair was tied back in a bun, but some of it fell out of it when he ran a hand through his head. Aelin tried to remember Rowan’s descriptions of his friends, and if she was right, that was Lorcan. “One day alone and you get hit by a fucking truck.”
“Any cool scars?” One of the golden twins asked, a grin on his face. Either Fenrys or Connall, but judging by the personality and Rowan’s description of the twins, Aelin was betting on the former.
“Shut up.” The one with a buzzcut— Vaughan, she recalled— said, hitting the back of the golden twin’s head. “We tried to come as soon as possible when we heard. We didn’t want to leave you alone.”
“Oh.” Rowan said with all the innocence in the world, a smile as sweet as hers gracing his lips. “Of course I wasn’t alone, are you guys insane or something?”
“Huh?” The twins said in unison, looking at each other.
“I came with my wife.” Rowan said, the sentence sounding like a question. He let out a laugh, eyes sparkling with mirth. “Do you guys think she would just leave me alone?”
“Your fucking what.” Lorcan said very slowly after a few moments of complete silence.
Rowan looked so genuinely confused that even Aelin believed him for a second.
“Guys? Ace?” Rowan said, brows furrowing. His eyes then landed on her, and he gave her a smile that was supposed to be loving, but Aelin just thought he looked like a fiend. “Apparently they think you’re cold enough to enjoy your vacations while your husband is at the hospital.”
“I might not be the warmest, but that would have been low even for me.” Aelin said, voice charred with playful sarcasm. As if she was a magnet, all five heads immediately whipped at her direction, faces showing different levels of incredulity. “Hey, guys.”
Aelin had to bite her cheeks to keep herself from laughing. She didn’t know any human being could be that shocked and stand that still. The silence in the room was suffocating, except for Rowan who was smiling broadly now that no one was looking at him.
“Everyone is seeing the hot blonde, right?” The twin— Fenrys, she’d been right. It was just the type of comment he’d do— asked very carefully.
“I’m flattered, Fen.” Aelin said, taking some pleasure in how his jaw dropped when she said his name. She looked at each of their faces, forcing her expression to show both excitement and some confusion. “Guys? Not even a hug? I mean I know you guys are Rowan’s friends but I would expect some better welcome.”
At that, Aelin got up and walked in their direction. She hugged Vaughan and Fenrys at the same time, both as still as two pieces of stone.
She took a step back, doing the same to Gavriel and Connall. Aelin then looked at Lorcan, winking at him. “I know better than to hug you. Good to know that the change in continents doesn’t change the scowl on your face.”
They all just stared at her.
From the corner of her eye, she could see Rowan was near busting out laughing. She walked to his side, feeling the eyes of his friends following her across the room. She bent down near Rowan, kissing him on the lips before stroking his cheek with a thumb. For a split second, they shared a knowing smile, one that would look very loving to whoever was watching, but both of them knew better.
“I’m gonna go check with your doctor what time we can leave, alright? I’m gonna let you guys catch up.” Aelin said, kissing him again.
Rowan nodded, but then his eyes turned to his friends and narrowed slightly. “Sounds good, honey.”
Vaughan soundly choked.
Aelin made her best impression of being embarrassed— not by the nickname, but by the reactions of his friends.
She left the room with a final smile at the five guys, and when her face was not visible to them anymore, she finally opened the biggest grin she had ever given in her entire life.
As she walked down the hallway looking for the doctor, Rowan almost jumped out of bed just to kiss her again if only for the absolute horror in his friends’ faces. He never thought he’d seen any of them that shaken— even Lorcan was shocked.
Using the fact that all five of them were still looking at Aelin’s body disappearing among doctors, nurses, and other visitors, Rowan controlled his facial expressions and turned them to a disappointed scowl.
“What the fuck was that?” He asked when Aelin completely disappeared. “Would it kill for you guys to be nice to her? It was never an issue, what the fuck happened?”
“Bro.” Connall was the first to tear his eyes away from the door.
“Rowan, I don’t know how to say this gently…” Gavriel started, voice calm and cautious as always.
“You must have hit your head really hard because you’re not fucking married.” Lorcan, on the other hand, had no problem just saying what came to his mind.
“What?” Rowan asked, dumbfounded.
“Man, some hot crazy chick is pretending to be your wife.” Fenrys was smiling, but his whole expression screamed terrified. “Holy fuck, some hot crazy chick is pretending to be Rowan’s wife.”
“Haha, very funny.” Rowan said, relaxing. “Is this why you treated Ace like that? A prank?”
“Her name is Ace.” Vaughan said, the only one still visibly shocked.
“Crazy girl name.” Fenrys added solemnly. Connall nodded profusely.
“Her name is Aelin, and you guys know that. We have been together for over a year not, married for a few months.” Rowan was trying so, so hard not to laugh.
The guys looked at each other, different degrees of worry washing they expressions.
“Rowan, you really have to understand that—“
“Understand what?” Aelin interrupted what Gavriel was saying, causing all of the guys to jump and scream.
At that, Rowan couldn’t contain his laughter. He was laughing so hysterically that not even Aelin managed to keep a straight face and started chuckling too.
“What the fuck was that?” Rowan said between laughs, smiling up at Aelin as she approached his bed even though he was speaking to his friend.
“When is his birthday?” Fenrys ignored Rowan’s question, eyes narrowing at Aelin as she rested against Rowan.
“January twentieth-first.” Aelin said, brows furrowing in confusion. “What the hell is this?”
“Favorite color.” Connall dismissed her question.
“Green.”
“His pet’s name.” Gavriel asked much more politely than the others, but suspicion was palpable in his words.
“We don’t have a pet.”
“What is he studying?” Vaughan finally looked more wary than fucking shocked.
“He’s studying to become an engineer. STEM, then? I don’t know, I’m an arts and humanities major. I don’t understand that shit.”
The guys looked at each other again before Lorcan’s eyes dropped on Aelin. “Mom’s name. Ex girlfriend’s name. Favorite movie. Favorite song. Dick size.”
Rowan choked when he heard the last sentence, but Aelin simply smiled. “Anya. Are you talking about Lyria or Remelle? The Godfather and Patience by the Guns n’ Roses. I will not be discussing my husband’s dick size with his best friend.”
“Holy fuck.” Vaughan breathed.
“Give me your phone.” Lorcan said, even more suspicious now.
Aelin raised a brow, but took the phone out of her pocket. She stole a glance at Rowan, but he was just as confused as her.
“Call the first person in your favorites.”
Oh, fuck.
It had been fun while it lasted, and Rowan was about to get his ass beaten by his friends even though he was still in a hospital bed.
But Aelin simply unlocked her phone for everyone to see, went to her contacts and called the second person in her favorites. She raised her eyes from the phone to smile sweetly at Lorcan. “Rowan is the first.”
Lorcan’s jaw clenched minimally, as if Aelin had just passed a test she was supposed to fail. Now, just like the rest of his friends, Lorcan looked expectantly ate the phone on top of Rowan’s legs. Aelin had put it on speaker, and the only sound in the room was their breathing and the dialing sound.
“Hey, babe.” A female voice answered, soft and warm. “What can I help you with?”
“I don’t know, actually.” Aelin raised her face to Lorcan, and she looked so beautiful that the smile that grew on Rowan’s face was genuine. “Why did I call her?”
“Is she married?” Lorcan asked loudly so the girl on the phone would hear.
“What did he say?” She asked anyways.
“Lorcan asked if I am married.” Aelin raised the phone to her lips so her friend could hear her better.
“Uhm, yeah?” Her friend laughed. “Aren’t you married to his best friend for a few months now? What type of question is this?”
Aelin smiled smugly at his friends, and Rowan made his best impression of pissed off husband. In reality, all he wanted was to be alone with Aelin and kiss her for her geniality.
She wasn’t kidding when she said she was competitive when it came to pranks.
“Hey, what’s up, Lys. Is that Ace?” A man sounded through the phone.
“Yeah.” Lys answered.
“Is Rowan ok?” The man asked casually, and even Rowan was surprised by that.
Turns out Aelin had been a few steps ahead of him.
“I’m fine.” Rowan answered, trying to sound casual. “But apparently my friends decided to be assholes even though I’m already suffering.”
Aelin snorted, resting her back against his chest.
“What are they doing?” The guy asked and Rowan could hear the smile on his voice. Even though the voice tone was completely different, the man sounded so much like Aelin that it could only be her cousin since she didn’t have siblings.
“Pretending they don’t know Ace.”
“I would also pretend I don’t know my cousin if I could. Disgraceful woman.” He grumbled. “She must be loving the attention, though.”
“Fuck off.” Aelin snapped at the same time Rowan laughed. She turned her head to him, eyes narrowing with enough emotion that Rowan knew she was being genuine. He just smiled, giving her a quick kiss before turning to the phone again.
“Me and Lys gotta go, but we’ll see you this weekend for dinner, right?”
“Yep.” Rowan knew nothing of it, but now he was knee deep into his lie so backing out wasn’t an option anymore.
“Oh, and Ace, Lysandra says the airline just sent your ticket back to Terrasen to the apartment.” Aedion announced before hanging up, leaving the comment hanging in the air.
Aelin heard sharp intakes of breath, and raised her head to see all men staring at her dumbfounded.
“What?” She asked innocently, resting once again against Rowan. His hand sneaked up to the back of her head, massaging her scalp. Even though she tried to play it cool, her heart was hammering inside her chest— both because of how big the lie had just become and because of Rowan’s touch against her skin. Her whole back was against his side, and Aelin hoped he thought the racing heart was due to the lie, not due to him.
“Very well, Ace.” Lorcan said after a moment of prolonged silence. “We are so sorry for the prank. Why don’t we all go out to dinner to pay you back.”
Aelin was gonna vomit her heart. All the guys looked at Lorcan, and even Rowan’s hand stilled against her hair.
And yet she just forced a smile on her face, nodding her head. “Sounds amazing.”
Rowan’s hand in the back of her head massaged now her neck, reassuring her everything was ok.
But that definitely wasn’t the sentiment on his friends’ faces.
Oh, fuck.
.
.
.
.
.
.
A/N: I’m sorry for such a small update for this story, but I’m trying to write some Valentine’s day oneshots but I wanted to continue this one a little! I’ll probably to a final part three for it sometime!
Tags:
@in-love-with-caramel-macchiato @jlinez @courtofjurdan @firestartsandseneschals @ladywitchling @lexflame @sleeping-and-books @annejulianneh111 @perseusannabeth @linshryver @mu-si-ca-l @camilamartinezdunne @dank-queen7 @minaidss @starborn-faerie-queen @booksofthemoon @loveofbooksandwine @jesstargaryenqueen @bluejaberry @multifandommessblog @yesdreamblog @superspiritfestival @ireallyshouldsleeprn @woollycat22 @julemmaes @claralady @abookishfreak @faerie-queen-fireheart @morganofthewildfire @queen-of-glass @heirofthenightcourt @booksbqueen @heirofthrnightcourt004 @fromthelibraryofemilyj @rowaelinismyotp @fromthelibraryofemilyj
* tags in bold don’t allow me to tag
194 notes · View notes
barsformars · 4 years ago
Text
Tumblr media
Tricky
//
g - fluff, slighttttttt angst, suggestive
p - san x reader
w.c - 1.9k
t.w - san touching reader's naked body
c - san takes care of you when you get injured and are left all alone at home. the catch is? both of you obviously have feelings for each other but.....san
a.n - uusjsjjs this was requested through private message! im sorry it took so long lmao uh, this is just 1.9k of plotless words nothing will be solved by the end of the story so its almost like word vomit???
t.l - @closer-stars @jeongyunhoed @fairyofdusk
//
Tumblr media
"It's not funny," you snarled at the pink haired boy who seemed to be overly amused at this situation in which both your arms were put in slings. You had slipped over a puddle of water, and that had sent you flying down the small flight of stairs right outside the taekwondo dojang, resulting in two dislocated shoulders. San pressed his lips firmly into a tight line to stop the corners of them from quirking up. On one hand, he does feel really bad, but if he said you didn't look ridiculously hilarious right now, he'd be lying. "I wonder who was on the verge of tears earlier on."
"That's because you were in so much pain I felt so bad for having asked you over for a sparring session!" San defended himself, a small pout forming as he did so. "At least the body and shin guards saved you from breaking your bones."
Once the elevator reached your floor, San pressed on the button to hold them open while keeping a close eye on you as you slowly exited. You've never noticed how much arm or shoulder action happens when you walk, until now.
It was only when you stepped through your front door and noticed your roommate's house slippers still sitting on the bottom of the shoe rack do you remember that they were out on a business trip. Being alone at home right now wasn't an option for you when you couldn't do anything by yourself, but your roommate wouldn't be back till next week. You didn't want to burden any of your other friends so late in the night, you had no choice but to rely on San.
But things...are always a little trickier with him.
"I can only stay for tonight," San sighed as he placed his phone down on the coffee table. You don't know if it was a sigh of relief or one of frustration; he had pleaded over the phone for ten minutes. "But my manager said that they can send someone over to help you out for the next few days."
"It's alright, I'll ask Jimin for help tomorrow. If they aren't available, I'll let you know, yea?" San nods, though rather reluctantly. He trusts that you'll be able to take care of yourself, except physically for now at least.
San holds you by the waist to support you as you got up from the couch, keeping an arm wrapped around it as he brought you to the bathroom. "Please tell me you have a bathtub."
"I insisted on having one, glad it's finally of actual use."
"Oh yeah."
Tumblr media
As you soaked in the warm bath that San had ran for you, you couldn't help but think of everything that has been happening between the two of you. The lingering touches, the jokes with double meanings, the way he gazes at you so softly, and the sudden tension that fills up the atmosphere following all those. San hasn't put a title over what this relationship was, and you've been too afraid to take the lead even though you knew that friends don't act like that towards one another. You didn't want to pressure him, he already has a lot on his plate. But he ought to give you an answer soon if he's about to see you in your most vulnerable state, right?
There comes another knock on the door, the tenth one in the whole duration of your bath. "I was being serious when I said don't try to act tough and do everything alone." The knocking continued on non-stop until you replied.
"You're an impatient one, aren't you?" You joked. "I'm done, I need help getting out."
"Not impatient, just worried." You hear his back leave the door for a moment as he stood up from the floor. And as politely as he could be while intruding into your private space, San pushed open the toilet door gently and stepped in after informing you first. You couldn't stop the giggle from escaping your throat when you took sight of him, his eyes shut close in consideration that you might not want him seeing you naked.
"Oh, you're laughing? At me?" San asked in disbelief as he pulled his arms that were searching for the wall back and rested his hands on his hips, a playful smile growing on his face. "Why are you laughing?"
"Because you're cute," you cooed, much to his dismay.
"I'm not cute!" San argued, his eyes now open and glaring at you, still rather adorably. But before you could tease him any further, San practically stomped his way to the bathtub, leaning down to your eye level as his arms gripped onto the sides. "Don't mistake my manners for cuteness, I'm not." He said, almost with a growl, as he reached into the water and wrapped his strong arms around your torso, pulling you up so that you could stand. Taking pride in the way your eyes widened in surprise, San couldn't help but smirk before giving you a quick peck on your forehead. "You're cute."
Once he got you out of the bathtub, San tried his best to not look at your body as he dried you up with a towel while you stood there blankly, still at a complete loss for words. "You're so rude," you told San after finally able to process whatever just happened a minute ago. The boy merely raised his eyebrows, his lips pursed. "Taking advantage of my injuries to show off your strength when you know how I feel about it."
"Well, you're not stupid, you know how I feel about you. It's only normal I act cool a little," San replied nonchalantly but you could tell that he was too afraid to look you in the eye. "Come on, let's go get you dressed."
"Also, just thought that you should know...." San paused for a moment to make sure that you dried your feet properly on the mat before continuing. "I almost patted your bare ass earlier on." You can't even blame him. With how touchy he and his members are, you aren't even surprised that touching people's butt has become their second nature. But even then, he really didn't have to tell you.
"TMI dude."
Tumblr media
San had been watching YouTube tutorials on how to put on shirts with a dislocated shoulder while waiting for you to wash up earlier on. You wouldn't have known either if he wasn't showing off all the knowledge that he had learnt less than half an hour ago by trying to convince you quite passionately, and with demonstrations, about why a dress shirt would be much easier to put on than a t-shirt, especially in your case.
"I will. I will wear dress shirts until my shoulders recover," you sighed heavily in defeat. "But just for tonight, can you help me with a t-shirt? I want to sleep comfortably even if it's just for tonight."
This time it was San's turn to sigh as he reached out to pinch your cheek. "I already told you that it will hurt."
"Make it not hurt then." You shook your head so that he would let go.
"Just sleep naked then," San mumbled under his breath but loud enough for you to hear, causing you to scowl at the boy. He catches your expression and sticks his tongue out at you. "Am I wrong?"
"T-shirt," you stated firmly, refusing to comply even when you knew San only had the best intentions for you in mind. You already don't think you could sleep with two injured shoulders, much less with your crush staying the night with you, and definitely even much lesser with an uncomfortable sleeping outfit. "Or I'll bite you." Those words becoming a reality became much more probable when his dimples makes an appearance once again, resembling the dent on a mochi when you press into it with a finger.
"I don't think that's a wise idea right now, maybe next time-" he gave you a gentle boop on the top of your nose with his finger-"now, your majesty, may I help you put on your gold thread shirt made from silk of the finest quality on so that both me and you can be spared from getting ourselves into a tricky situation?" If you could throw a punch at San right now, you would, but all you could do right now was to sit on the bed quietly and accept the teasing. And also whatever San was about to do to help you put on the shirt.
You wonder if it's too late to change your choice of clothing after San kneels down behind you on the bed, his chest and toned abdomen almost plastered onto your back as he reached over your shoulders to grab your forearms. "I need you to put your arms a little closer together, we'll have to try to get both through the sleeves together," he explained clearly and waited for your nod before he moved your arms as cautiously as he could, his eyes studying every twitch of your facial expression to check for discomfort or pain. "Tell me if it hurts okay? Don't act tough, I keep telling you that but please, please don't act tough."
All you could manage was a soft "mhm", your throat feeling too tight for proper words to come out of your mouth. You wonder if San, like how you could feel the warmth of his hands and body, could feel the heat radiating off your cheeks too. "I'm going to pull both sleeves up now, it may hurt a little," San warned, one hand coming up to pat your head affectionately before he gripped onto the sleeves again. Even with how gentle he was being, a wince still manages to escape from you, putting a pause on San's actions as he tilt his head to look at you. "I'm sorry, it will be over soon." You nodded, fully trusting him.
Though there were still a couple more times your shoulders hurt before the sleeves were fully through, the little apology he makes every time that happens comforts you, and also, makes your heart beats embarrassingly fast. Getting your head through the hole was a much easier feat and it didn't take long before your shirt was on.
San got off your bed to fetch his backpack and for a moment you thought that he was going to pull out the painkillers that you were prescribed with but instead, he took out two boxes of shoulder brace. "When did you even get that?" You asked, amused and touched at the same time. The shoulder slings the hospital had put you in was terribly uncomfortable and while the brace may not be way better, it was still better than the sling.
"When you were getting your x-ray done," San replied with a proud smile.
"Aw, I would give you a pat on your head if I could."
Upon hearing that, San practically shoved his pink hair into your face as he bent down. "You can kiss me on my head."
"I will bite you."
215 notes · View notes