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sunder-soul · 3 years

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As requested, a Part II to the prompt from @riddles-wifey about jealous Tom!

PART I HERE! 💖

･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

Jealousy

Summary: Reader tries to avoid Tom following their strange confrontation, fails miserable, a very different kind of confrontation ensues.

Word count: 1.5k Content warning: making out, nothing too serious.

･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

“Something weird happened,” you say bluntly, falling into the seat next to Margot in Transfiguration the next morning.

She immediately looks up from her textbook.

“With Riddle,” you add quietly, glancing around the classroom to check for onlookers and potential eavesdroppers.

Margot’s brows shoot up and a wide grin splits her face. “Are you serious?” she whispers excitedly, leaning in.

“Yeah,” you mutter, pulling out your Transfiguration textbook and some parchment. “I think he thought that me and Varrowe were dating…”

“And?” Margot says immediately, so focused on you that she doesn’t notice Dumbledore stride into the room (which is rather impressive considering he’s dressed in vibrant lime green robes with glittering gold fastenings.)

“He got all mad last night when he saw us together, but then when I told him that I was Varrowe’s tutor, he…” You trail off, twirling your quill in your fingers, very unsure how to even describe what had happened.

“Yes?” Margot prompts, still grinning.

“He got all up close and… intense,” you mumble with a wave of your hand, feeling your cheeks grow warm.

Margot looks delighted. “And?”

“And nothing,” you shrug, dejectedly writing the date at the top of your parchment. “After that he just… left.”

“Sweet Snidgets above,” Margot says, shaking her head with a wry smile on her face. “You snagged Riddle.”

“I haven’t snagged anyone!” you whisper hastily, glancing around again. “And keep your voice down!”

“I’m so proud of you,” she says theatrically, completely ignoring your panic. “Merlin’s beard, wait until poor Olive Hornby finds out, she’s been planning their wedding since first year –”

“She’s not going to find out anything,” you say pointedly, narrowing your eyes, “because there’s nothing to find out!”

“Sure, sure,” Margot winks, “so what are you going to do?”

“Dunno,” you mutter, “I guess just avoid him for the rest of time.”

“Avoid him?” she repeats, looking scandalised. “Are you completely stupid? Why would you –”

“My deepest apologies, Miss Droope,” Dumbledore calls from the front of the room, making the both of you jump and wheel around in your seats as the entire class turns to look at you. “I’m afraid I must interrupt your conversation with the minor inconvenience of today’s lesson,” he continues with a sparkle in his eye. “Perhaps you two might find a time outside of class to continue your discussion.”

“Sorry Professor,” you both mutter, hastily bending over your notes.

Dumbledore resumes the class, but the side-eye grin that Margot shoots you assures you that you are most definitely not off the hook yet.

･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

Your plan to avoid Riddle works right up until the exact moment that it doesn’t.

It’s a rainy Monday night about a week after the strange conversation with Riddle and you’re holed up in the library with the most gruelling History of Magic assignment you’ve ever had – a sixty inch dissertation on the contributing factors of the Giant Wars.

You throw your quill down and sigh, staring up at the droplets trickling down the dark window and listening to the relentless thrum of the rain. Your eyes are aching and your brain feels like fuzz – it’s definitely time for a break.

You get up and wander down the nearby shelves, vaguely searching for a particular text and fully intending on taking as long as possible to find it, when just like that you round the corner and see Riddle standing in the middle of the aisle.

You freeze.

He hasn’t seen you yet, peering attentively at a text open in one hand as the other traces down its table of contents. You take a slow step back, and right as you think you might get away without drawing his attention, his head swivels around and his eyes flash to yours.

There’s a very loaded pause in which you must look a lot like a deer caught in headlights.

“Evening,” Riddle says smoothly, snapping his book shut with one hand and sliding it back onto the shelf.

“Hi,” you say awkwardly.

“I haven’t seen you around very much lately,” Riddle says casually, leaning against the bookshelf beside him.

“I’ve been busy,” you mutter, avoiding his even gaze as you scan the shelves for the book you’re looking for.

“Oh I’m sure,” he says softly.

You grit your teeth and squint at the books in front of you, determined to ignore him.

“What are you looking for?” Riddle asks.

“Modern Gigantomachy,” you say reluctantly.

“Which edition?”

You glance around at him. He’s still leaning against the bookshelf, looking annoyingly attractive, the waves of his black hair contrasting with his skin, the fine angles of his brows above his dark eyes, the knowing curl on his lips as he watches you –

“Fourth,” you say quickly before you can get too distracted.

Riddle pushes off the bookshelf and is suddenly mere inches in front of you. Your heart immediately lurches as you take an instinctive step away and your back hits the shelf behind you. Riddle delicately arches a brow at your reaction, his eyes fixed on yours as he slowly reaches up to a shelf far above you and slides a book off of it. He hands it to you and you take it automatically.

“Thanks,” you breathe, staring at him wide-eyed.

“Of course,” Riddle says softly.

There’s another silence. Neither of you have moved an inch, and you begin to wonder exactly how many times you’re going to end a hair’s breadth away Riddle before one of you finally caves –

“You’ve been avoiding me,” he murmurs, a smirk building on his lips.

Your heart stops for a second. “You were jealous of Varrowe,” you blurt out.

Riddle’s smirk falls. He lifts a hand to rest on the shelf above your head, leaning over you very unnervingly. “Jealous?” he repeats sharply

“Yeah,” you breathe, slightly horrified that you’d actually said it out loud. “You were.”

Something works in Riddle’s jaw as he glares down at you, and you hug the book he gave you closer to your chest.

“And why would I be jealous of Varrowe?” he whispers.

You blink at him. Riddle is close, too close, his eyes raking across your face as he looms over you, something almost possessive about his hand above your head. There’s no mistaking the sudden shift in the air between you.

You’re leaning up onto the balls of your feet without thinking twice.

Your lips brush against his, so softly that the kiss is barely there, but enough to send your heart hammering as you pull back just far enough to check his reaction. Your cheeks are aflame and your lips are tingling, unable to believe what you’ve just done as the silence stretches on and on, as Riddle stares back at you, frozen in place with something you can’t recognise burning in his dark eyes.

The faintest frown appears between Riddle’s brow, and then slowly, very slowly, he’s leaning down towards you. Your breath hitches. His lips meet yours at the exact same moment that he steps in closer, crowding you back against the shelf, soft and warm, kissing you with a smooth, relentless pressure and you’re leaning up into it without even realising what you’re doing, thoughts swirling, heat on your skin, stomach twisting –

Riddle is pulling the book from your hands and carelessly dropping it to the floor, taking you by the waist and lifting you up as he steps in again, pinning you to against the bookshelf without breaking the kiss. Your hands card into the soft waves of his hair and his grip on your waist tightens as you wrap your legs around him. The first touch of his tongue makes you gasp against his lips, and Riddle’s fingers immediately tangle in your hair to pull you harder against him. Riddle’s mouth is moving against yours, hungry and unyielding, and you’re getting dizzy as heat curls in your stomach –

He pulls away very suddenly. You stare at him in surprise, breathing hard. Riddle’s lips are slick and his eyes have gone black, one of his hands still buried in your hair and the other gripping your hip so tightly that you’re sure that you’ll have bruises in the pattern of his fingers tomorrow.

“We are in the middle of the library,” he murmurs against your lips. It takes a lot to resist shivering at the sound of his voice.

“We… could… go somewhere else…” you manage to say, your heart racing so hard that he can surely hear it.

A small smirk builds on his face. “What about your essay?” he says smoothly, so close that your lips start aching to close the scant distance between you –

“I think technically I just had my textbook confiscated by a prefect,” you whisper with a flicker of a smile, “so there’s my alibi.”

Riddle breathes a laugh, and then his lips are on yours once more.

Thanks for asking for a sequel @bluehydrangea-cherry and @the-almond-dinger 💖

#tom riddle #tom marvolo riddle #tom riddle x reader #tom riddle x y/n #tom riddle x you #jealous tom #tom riddle imagine #tom riddle imagines #sequel #minific #harry potter #tom riddle smut #sorta #lil bit #not really but hey #smut #fluff #FIL #jealousy

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ace-in-a-shopping-cart · 4 years

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Day 7

Prompt: There is a string tied around your pinky the end of which leads to your soulmate.

Word Count: 2,647

Main Taglist: (Send an ask to be added or removed!) @starlocked01, @spoopy-turtle, @lizluvscupcakes, @more-fandon-than-friends, @i-cant-find-a-good-username, @vindicatedvirgil, @star-crossed-shipper, @justaqueercactus, @gayboopnoodle, @sanderssidesweirdo, @the-sympathetic-villain, @8-writes Soulmate taglist:(Send an ask to be added or removed!) @elizabutgayer, @melodiread, @tsshipmonth2020, @mikalya12, @8-writes

Note: I modified the prompt a bit. In this world, everyone can see the string tied around the finger. When the string is intact, it’s red like normal. If the string has been cut, it will turn gray and both soulmates will be seen as ‘lesser people’ for denying their destiny. If a soulmate dies, the string will turn black. Another thing to note is that Logan is asexual. It’s briefly alluded to in the beginning but not brought up again.

Virgil wandered the campus, shoulders hunched in a clear indication that he didn’t want to be seen. He was glad to be able to be here at all after what happened in high school. Even so, he made sure to wear the gloves and stay out of people’s ways. The first semester was hell as he still wasn’t sure how to do anything but still tried. It seemed all his teachers had it out for him on day one as soon as they caught sight of those gloves.

It wasn’t until his second semester that he met someone who wore gloves just like him. He was sitting by himself during the time he’d scheduled for lunch, reading a fanfiction off his phone and trying to block out the world. Someone sat beside him and started watching a nature documentary while eating. He glanced over and frowned in confusion. Before he could gather his things to move to a different seat, the person spoke.

“I see you’re just like me.”

Virgil’s frown deepened. “How is that?”

They held up a gloved hand. “How did yours happen?”

Virgil relaxed into his seat. “I don’t know. I was in the middle of math class in high school.”

They winced, nodding. “That’s tough.”

“You?” Virgil didn’t know why, but he felt a burning need to know their story, to know he wasn’t alone in his struggles.

Their wince turned sour, a look one step away from a glare entering their eyes. “I cut it myself. She wasn’t willing to treat me right, didn’t accept my pronouns and sexuality, so I cut it. I know my worth and she didn’t deserve me. As far as I care, she still doesn’t.”

Virgil nodded, almost in awe of them. “I never met mine but they’ve stayed with me for a while now. I’ve always wondered if I was ever going to be good enough for someone or if I was simply too damaged.” He had no idea why he was telling a random stranger his life’s story but it felt too right to stop.

The stranger shook their head. “They cut it, you didn’t. It’s their fault but you’ve had to live with it. That shouldn't have been the case.” They turned to look at him, a fierce expression in their eyes. “If they didn’t want you, they didn’t deserve you, simple as that. You never got to know them or be known by them, thus it is their fault for cutting it. Never blame yourself for the actions of others.”

With that, they put their headphones back in and played their documentary. Virgil felt his phone buzz and looked down to find that he had ten minutes to get to class. He hastily ripped out a paper from his notebook, scrawled his number on it, shoved it over to the stranger, and ran off to get to class.

He didn’t see the stranger again for a few days but got a text from them that night. They chatted late into the night, talking about classes and life outside of soulmates. They commiserated over their lack of soulmates and the shunning it causes. Virgil was able to complain about his gloves and how much he hated them and have someone agree and understand, something he’d never had before. He was able to understand when the stranger, Logan, complained about the stares they got while washing their hands, how they hated everyone looking at the gray string that hung limply from their finger.

Virgil soon found not only a soulmateless companion, but a companion in academic pursuits as well. They seemed to be intellectual peers so Virgil understood most of Logan’s science babble. Logan seemed to have taken a biologist major as they spoke of creatures found in rainforests constantly. Virgil, on the other hand, was in an arts major, focusing mainly on building models of commissioned structures.

Slowly, brick by brick, Logan rebuilt Virgil’s self confidence. They helped him regain his self love, told him how strong he was for surviving the most grueling years of his life. Logan would never let Virgil apologize for the simple things like running late or using the wrong pronouns for them. They always made sure to let him know that they were not upset and were proud of his progress. Virgil’s sense of self worth grew stronger and larger, finally allowing him to see what Logan had known from the start: Virgil’s soulmate didn’t deserve him.

Over the semester, they grew closer, their bond growing strong. Virgil’s panic attacks lessened, he could stand to hear the word ‘soulmates’ without wanting to curl into a ball and cry, he didn’t jump at the sight of a math textbook, didn’t feel the need to hide his high school passions. He grew enough that he could look at the gloves he had to wear with something other than disdain.

Soon, they had decided to room together the next semester. Luckily, their requests were easily approved as it seemed the faculty were more than happy to have the two students without soulmates room together.

They finished their degrees and managed to graduate without dying, which Virgil counted as a plus. Logan simply said Virgil was being overdramatic. Once they graduated, they found an aquarium with a rainforest section that allowed Logan to work with the animals they loved and gave Virgil a lot of opportunities to make or upgrade different terrariums and enclosures. He was also able to design more enrichment activities for certain animals. They saw each other in the back rooms and in the halls. Most times, they ended up sitting with each other to eat lunch as not many people wanted to interact with them.They still lived together in a small apartment as they didn’t feel the need to move.

Over time, Virgil got to know Logan better and knew he was falling for them. One night, he’d accidentally had too much to drink. He leaned against Logan, who’s arm around his waist was the only thing keeping him upright and relatively stable. Logan deposited him on the couch. “Stay here, I’ll go grab you some water to sober you up.”

Virgil whined, reaching out for them. Once he took hold of their hand, he pulled his roommate close. “No! Don’t go!”

Logan sighed but sat down on the couch anyways. Virgil leaned heavily to the side but before Logan could catch him, his head landed in the other’s lap. Virgil wiggled a bit before he managed to throw his legs over the arm of the couch, fully laying down now. He giggled, looking up at Logan. “You’re really handsome.” He muttered.

Logan smiled fondly, a hand reaching out to stroke through Virgil’s hair. “That’s nice, Virge. How about you try to sleep now?”

Virgil shook his head. “No, no sleep. You’re too nice to me.”

Logan’s smile turned into a frown. “How am I too nice to you?”

“You’re very patient with me, never getting angry at me for jumping at small noises, or randomly leaving a room. You take such good care of me when I’m sick. You’ve treated me with more basic human kindness than most people did during college.” Tears started to slide down his temples but Logan brushed them away. “I love you, L.” Virgil curled up, his face pressed against Logan’s stomach.

Logan stayed still the rest of the night, eventually falling asleep. When they woke, Virgil was moving around in the kitchen. “Sorry, did I wake you?” He asked genuinely.

Logan groaned but shook their head as they stood. “No, but I think we need to talk about last night.”

Virgil nodded, turning the burner off so he didn’t burn the scrambled eggs. “Is this about my drinking? I promise that was a one time thing.”

“No, I trust you on that. I’m talking about what you said to me before you fell asleep.”

Virgil nodded again, shakier this time. He put the dish towel he was holding down. “Oh, that.”

Logan nodded. “I only really have one question for you.”

Virgil looked at the counter, pretending to wipe at the already clean surface. “Sure, shoot.”

Logan put a hand on his arm, staying his movement. “Did you mean it?”

Virgil’s head shot up so fast he was sure he popped something. “Of course!”

Logan smiled, leaning over to kiss Virgil’s cheek. “Good, because I love you too.”

Virgil stood there, dazed, for a few minutes while Logan walked away to shower and get ready for the day. When they came back out, they had a discussion of what their relationship was and decided that they were datemates.

As time went on, they stopped sleeping in separate rooms for one reason or another. Sometimes, one of them couldn’t handle the pressure of the world anymore and ended up crying themselves to sleep on the other’s bed, sometimes they were cuddling and talking before falling asleep. Eventually, they simply decided to share a room. With their combined savings, they toured apartments and found one they liked, with a bedroom they could both make theirs.

A few more years went by and they were happy. When around Logan, Virgil could almost forget about the grey string tied to his finger, the string that decreed he was unlovable, unable to marry, unable to adopt. The string and all implications that came with it ceased to exist the moment he caught sight of Logan.

It was in one of those moments that he knew: he wanted to marry this beautiful human beside him, the one holding him close, the one who makes him forget the world, the one who loves him just as much as he loves them. He also knew that the gray strings hidden under their gloves denied their marriage. Only soulmates bound by a red string could get married, adopt, love.

Virgil raised his head from it’s position on Logan’s chest, looking them in the eye. “Marry me.”

Logan chuckled, a hand running through Virgil’s hair. “I’d love to but you know we can’t.”

Virgil shook his head. “If our marriage would never be legal, why should we use legal means?”

Logan’s smile slid into a frown. “I don’t follow.”

“How does a wedding go, babe?”

Logan’s smile returned at the pet name. “It usually involves the soulmates saying vows and swapping their soul strings, which proceeds to glow golden around the base of the finger while the rest of the string stays red.”

Virgil nodded, his smile growing. “So, let’s do that! We don’t need any witnesses if we’re not able to make it legal anyways. What do you say?”

Logan had gotten a look in their eye while Virgil was talking that he knew all too well. His datemate was plotting something. “Well,” he said finally, “if we’re doing this, I’d want to do it as best as we can.”

Virgil nodded, moving to sit up so he could see Logan better. “Like what?”

“You mentioned vows?”

Virgil smiled, feeling excitement and just a bit of anxiety growing. “That’s doable.”

“I could pick up cupcakes instead of a wedding cake?”

Virgil nodded, grinning. “Would it be too much if I were to wear a suit?”

Logan smiled, leaning in to kiss his cheek. “Not if I wore a dress.”

They continued to plan their ‘wedding’ over the course of a few days, both preparing vows in their free time. Virgil was once asked about what he was doing by a coworker but said he was giving a speech at a relative’s wedding, not wanting to give away that what he was doing was technically illegal.

The day they’d set arrived. It was a joint day off so neither had to go into work. Virgil woke up before Logan did, depositing a kiss to their forehead before slipping out of bed. He ate breakfast, making one for Logan to find when they woke up, before heading to the spare bedroom to prepare.

A few hours later, he walked out to the living room they’d decorated the night before. He stood at the arch of paper links, his gloves discarded and suit on. He fidgeted with the edges, wanting everything to be perfect for Logan.

When they walked out, it felt like his breath was sucked out of him. His eyes swept over Logan’s frame, their dress accentuating their features. Logan’s smile could have sent birds singing when Virgil’s eyes finally made their way back up. He held out his hand for them to take as they arrived. “You look gorgeous.” He murmured in awe.

Logan chuckled, dropping their bouquet gently onto the couch. “Thank you. You look amazing as well.”

Virgil gripped Logan’s hands tightly, knowing he was first. He looked directly into their eyes while he spoke. “I’ve chosen you. To be no other than yourself, loving what I know of you and trusting who you will become. In a world that is based on who you were destined to love at birth, I’ve chosen to love you. It is free will but that does not mean it is false love. I will gladly share your name and care for you, in sickness and in health, in fair weather and storms, in every battle life throws at us. I will stand by your side and fight with you. We shall always be equals in this marriage and I would never wish it any other way. I love you and take you, Logan Croft, to be my unlawfully wedded spouse.”

Logan smiled, squeezing Virgil’s hands before beginning. “All I have in this world, I freely give to you. I promise to love you every second of every day, not just for a moment, nor for an hour, nor for a day, nor for a year, I will love you until eternity ends. Until the mountains crumble into the sea, and the oceans rise to consume the land, I will love you with everything I have. I will put you back together when you are falling apart, I will laugh with you, grieve with you. Our love is unique and something I will cherish beyond anything. I found you without the aid of a string, without anything tying our souls together, and our love is stronger for it. We have fought to love, fought to live in a world that does not want us, and we have grown and clung to each other through it all. I cannot tell where I end and you begin and I would have it no other way. I love you with all my soul and take you, Virgil Storm, to be my unlawfully wedded husband.”

They both carefully untied the gray strings around their pinkies, Virgil tying his around Logan’s left ring finger before Logan tied theirs around Virgil’s. Once they did that, they shared a kiss. Logan was the first to pull back, their eyes going down to look at the soul string tied around their finger.

The part tied at the base was now a glowing silver instead of a muted gray. Following the ends, one ended as normal while the other had grown and now connected to one of Virgil’s ends. His own string was also glowing a bright silver while the connecting string was a soft pink.

Virgil stared in shock before locking eyes with Logan. “Do you know what this means?”

“That people who have cut strings can choose their next soulmate? Or that the prejudice against those with grey and black strings is no longer justified? That we could probably go register at a courthouse and be lawfully wedded now? That-”

Virgil surged forward and captured their lips with a kiss. “It means that no one can tell us we are broken. No one can rip us apart.” He whispered before Logan tilted their head up for more kisses.

#tsshipmonth2020 #analogical #soulmate au #virgil sanders #logan sanders #ace!logan #aphobia mentioned #transphobia mentioned #ace writes

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turningtummyrubs · 4 years

Note

Could you write one Ryek and Ark maybe on a mission together? They are arguing a lot and annoyed with each other until Ryek starts feeling sick with a stomach ache. Then Ark has to take care of him with tummy rubs and cuddles. This would make me so happy! Love these two. 😊

Love this prompt!

———

“What are you doing?”

“Figuring out where the hell our target went off to after you let him get away,” Ryek says. Growls, really. His face is illuminated only by the blue light of his phone screen. Ark looks like a mere smudge in the shadows of the storage closet they’ve been forced to duck into.

The two of them have been trailing Leonard Corhz for nearly 24 hours now. They’d started early in the morning and now it’s so dark the air feels heavy with it.

Ryek had started off calm and professional as always, but as time wore on and Ark began to grow grumpier, so did he. They��ve been bickering meaninglessly for the past hour.

The building they’re in, a higher-end office, is supposed to have been locked up for the night. Instead, there are still three people inside. Arkane, Ryek, and target 89, Leonard Corhz.

“There!” Ryek suddenly exclaims, shooting down the hall silently and quickly as a bullet. Ark follows close on his heels, grumbling to himself.

There’s a flash of silver, Corhz’s jacket, and then Ryek’s somehow, impossibly, sprinting faster. Ark doesn’t bother trying to catch up. While he may best Ryek in hand-to-hand combat, Ryek is undeniably the quickest and quietest.

There’s a faint, almost imperceptible, tumbling sound and a muffled scream and just as Ark thinks they’ve finally caught him, he hears a soft curse. And that voice isn’t Corhz’s. It’s Ryek’s.

He speeds up into a full-on sprint and rounds the corner to see Ryek, jaw clenched tight and leaning heavily against the wall. When Ryek spots him, his eyes go narrow and dark and he makes a face like he’ll kill Ark if he says anything.

Ark is quite used to that face though, so he says, “What the hell happened? He was right there! You could’ve caught him! This could’ve been over by now!”

And Ryek blinks once, expression slipping into something bland and woozy, and murmurs, “Sorry,” which is... wrong. Very wrong.

“What the hell?” Ark steps closer, frowning. “Why’re you... what’s going on?”

Ryek blinks again then shakes his head, expression clearing. “Nothing. Corhz managed to slip away. He can’t have gotten far. I’ll take this hallway, you take that one. Don’t make a sound until he’s pinned beneath you. Understood?”

“We’re a team, you know,” Ark says. “It’s not up to you alone to give off all the orders.”

Ryek raises a single dark eyebrow, expression unimpressed, and monotonously repeats, “Understood?”

Ark’s scowl twists his whole face but he nods once and takes off down the hall.

Ryek watches his receding back and takes a deep breath, hand hovering anxiously over his stomach. It’s been mildly upset for the past hour or so, but sprinting through the halls and tackling Corhz has pushed his stomach ache past the point of vague discomfort. God, he just wants to get this over with quickly.

He rubs a hand lightly over his middle once in an attempt to settle it, but when it proves futile, he takes another heavy inhale and sets off in the other direction.

It’s a relief to see that Ark has Corhz cornered when he arrives, but all that ease dissipates, replaced by a lurching horror, as he sees that it might be the other way around. Corhz has a gun pressed to Ark’s stomach. Ark doesn’t look too frightened. He actually doesn’t look frightened at all, with a leering smile and easy set to his shoulders, but Ryek knows. Ryek always knows.

Ryek reaches into his jacket, searching for his own gun, when he realizes with a sinking feeling that the gun Corhz is holding must be his. Lost in the tussle. Ryek’s stomach stirs a bit, sending a heavy thrum of nausea curdling through his unsettled insides, and he swallows hard before rushing forward and tackling Corhz to the ground. The gun slides out of his grasp, knocking against Ark’s shoe. And that shoe is the last thing he sees before colorful spots of light assault his vision and he’s lost to a sea of dark.

He wakes up ten minutes later to someone gently shaking his shoulder. He springs up, scrambling back until he hits the wall behind him. Ryek’s breaths shake as his head thuds back and he scans the hall wildly.

“It’s me!” Ark exclaims, hands up. “It’s me.”

Ryek inhales sharply, head lowering as his fingers flex into fists. How embarrassing to have reacted that way. Of course it was only Ark. Of course, all that embarrassment vanishes rather quickly as the ache in his stomach makes itself known once more. A low, twisting cramp groans through his guts and he crouches down on the ground, almost hyperventilating.

“Ryek?” Ark says, moving beside him. His voice is pitched high, like he’s worried. It’s disconcerting.

Ryek waves a dismissive hand, murmuring, “I’m fine.” It’s not very convincing.

His entire body feels sluggish and warm in a strange way, like it’s shutting down. As his insides churn and swirl, his head begins to spin with static. He can’t think past the buzzing. Nothing feels solid or real except the painful tensing of his abdominal muscles as they seize with cramps.

What might be a moment or an eon later, he feels himself being lifted into the air, which is weird because the only other people here are Ark and Corhz. And Corhz is gagged with his hands tied in the corner... Which means, this must be Ark. But Ark can’t carry him. Can he? Ryek tries to open his eyes, but he can’t. Or maybe they’re already open and he just can’t see. He lifts a hand instead and tangles it in the shirt of whoever’s carrying him. Then he turns his face and inhales deeply, confirming it’s Ark when he smells that heady scent of apple cobbler and sweat.

“What are you doing?” Ark asks, and there’s a hint of laughter in his voice. Almost hysterical.

“Wha... Corhz,” Ryek slurs, trying to think clearly. “Where is he?”

“Some other agents picked him up. You’ve been knocked out for a bit. I’m taking you home.” And suddenly Ryek can see again as Ark leans down and peers closer at his face. “Are you sick?”

Ryek shakes his head, at first just instinctively but then confirming it to be true. “No, my stomach just hurts.” Annnndddd he hadn’t meant to say that part. Great job, Ryek, admitting weakness to your greatest rival. Your greatest rival who is currently carrying you in his arms like you’re a helpless baby. Because you are currently a helpless baby.

“How long has it been hurting?” Ark asks, brow pinched.

Ryek shrugs and allows his eyes to flutter shut as he shifts to a more comfortable position in Ark’s steady arms. His stomach gurgles unhappily and he suppresses a small whimpering noise. What has gotten into him? “A while...”

Ark’s arms tighten a bit around him. “You should’ve said something.”

Ryek just shakes his head.

There’s no more talk until they reach the car. It’s a company mandated car, but Ark doesn’t think they’ll mind too much if he drives it to Ryek’s and returns it in the morning. He sets Ryek down in the passenger’s seat and feels his face heat as Ryek clings to his sweater a bit before letting go.

Worry gnaws at Ark’s chest as he drives. Ryek, whom many would consider the most formidable person on planet Earth, looks devastatingly small. He’s curled up a bit, cheek pressed against the cold glass of the window and eyes closed. An arm is wrapped firmly around his stomach.

When Ark pulls into Ryek’s massive driveway, he ever so gently shakes Ryek’s shoulder.

“Hey,” he says in a soft voice he hasn’t used in ages. “Time to wake up.”

Ryek’s eyes open blearily and he rubs at them with his fingers curled into a fist like a little kid. Ark swallows, something protective tightening dangerously in his chest.

“Do you need me to carry you again?” Ark asks. Ryek’s expression seems to clear at that and he firmly shakes his head. He somehow manages to make it into his house, but once inside, he nearly collapses onto the couch.

Ark, feeling like somewhat of a mother hen, moves quickly to his side. Instinctively, he smooths a dark curl behind Ryek’s ear, the pad of his thumb grazing his cheekbone. Ryek makes a soft sort of mewling noise and leans into the gentle touch. Ark wonders how often people touch him like this. He suspects probably never.

“Do you want me to make you some tea?” Ark asks, voice a low murmur. “Or anything at all?”

Ryek shakes his head once, fingers closing around Ark’s wrist as his face suddenly goes intensely grave. “Don’t. Don’t leave.”

Ark’s face flushes with heat. This isn’t like them. Not at all. “I won’t.”

Ryek’s stomach makes a low grumbling noise and he moans softly and shifts onto his back, palm splayed over his abdomen. Little gurgles and squelches sound from low in his tummy, and Ark watches as his brow creases further and further with pain.

Almost without thinking, Ark slips his hand beneath Ryek’s on his stomach and rubs a gentle circle. Ryek inhales sharply, muscles rippling beneath Ark’s hand, before his entire body relaxes.

“Is this... okay?” Ark asks quietly, and it feels like maybe he’s talking about the whole situation.

“Yeah,” Ryek murmurs. “More than okay.”

Ryek leans his head back against the armrest of the couch as Ark’s hand rubs slow circles into his stomach—gentle at first, and then with a bit more pressure as his abdominal muscles clench and spasm with unrelenting force. A low rumbling has begun to gurgle through his lower stomach, and Ryek exhales slowly as Ark smooths the heel of his palm back and forth over the aching area. Ark’s warm, callused fingers chase away every grumble and twinge plaguing Ryek’s middle.

As the pain dwindles down to a low feeling of discomfort, Ryek tugs on Ark’s wrist and pats the small area beside him. He doesn’t even think about it before doing it.

Ark also doesn’t think as he wordlessly climbs onto the couch next to Ryek and fits his arm around him. Doesn’t think as their bare ankles slide against each other. Doesn’t think as Ryek buries his face in the crook of his neck.

With thinking comes regrets, and whether they’ll admit it or not, they both want this too badly for that.

———

AHHH OKAY I’M SORRY BUT THIS IS SOME OF THE WORST WRITING I’VE HAD IN A WHILE and I don’t know why lol

I just cannot get in the groove :/

BUT I hope you still enjoyed it and hopefully this is temporary :)

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musette22 · 4 years

Note

So frat boy Chris, having sex with a Romanian prince on his Steve Rogers’ Camaro

Okay so nonnie, you’re kind of a mind reader. When you sent this in yesterday I was literally in the middle of writing this. I got a prompt just like this from another lovely anon a while ago and only just got around to writing it, so yeah, your timing is impeccable! I hope you enjoy this little car sex fic 😘

Baby, you can drive my car

Pairing: Chris Evans x Sebastian Stan (Evanstan)

Word count: 3k

Rating: Explicit, so 18+ only please!

Read on AO3

Gif credit to @stevenrogered

***

“Chris?”

Sebastian’s voice emerges, a little muffled, from where his face is smushed in between Chris’s pectorals.

Chris hums in reply, not taking his eyes off the book he’s reading. “What’s up, baby?”

“I’m bored.”

Huffing out a laugh, Chris tears his gaze away from the page to peer down at Sebastian. “You could grab a book too, you know. What happened to that weird Gothic novel you were reading earlier? The Finnish one?”

Sebastian lifts his head to pout at him, pink bottom lip pushed out enticingly. “We’ve been reading all morning. I wanna go do something.”

“Like what?” Chris leans in to kiss the top of Sebastian’s head.

“Like…” Sebastian’s scrunches up his nose in thought. “Oh, let’s go for a drive?”

“Where to?”

“Doesn’t matter,” Sebastian shrugs, leaning his chin on Chris’s sternum. “Just don’t want to sit inside on a day like this.”

“Okay,” Chris agrees, stroking Sebastian’s hair back off his forehead. “We could take the Lexus and drive up to the mountains?”

“Yeah. Or, hey, can we take the Camaro?”

Chris blinks. “Really?”

“You’ve barely taken her out since you got her.” Sebastian playfully narrows his eyes. “Wouldn’t want your sugar daddy to think you didn’t appreciate his present, right?”

Chris rolls his eyes at Sebastian’s gentle ribbing. “Okay, yeah. You’re right, it’s time I took her for a spin.”

He sits up, pushing Sebastian off of him in the process, who just rolls onto his side on the couch. He holds out a hand for Sebastian to grab onto, groaning as he pulls him up to his feet.

“Go put on some pants, I’ll go check the oil. Rendezvous in the garage in ten.”

Sebastian was right – it’s a lovely day. The sun is out and it’s unseasonably warm, so Chris shrugs off his cardigan twenty minutes in, leaving him in a short-sleeved, white t-shirt. He has his sunglasses on and his ball cap backwards on his head, the window rolled down, and his baby next to him in the passenger seat. So yeah, he has nothing to complain about.

Sebastian, wearing baggy basketball shorts, a black t-shirt and some Ray Bans, is loudly singing along to Journey. It’s a little off-key, but Chris thinks it’s all the more endearing for it. They drive up into the mountains for a little over an hour – not counting one stop at a gas station – before Sebastian tells him to pull over.

“We just had a pee break,” Chris protests mildly, “literally like fifteen minutes ago. Took ages, too.”

Instead of explaining, Sebastian laughs. “Just pull over, dork.”

Chris sighs, already doing as he’s told. He came to terms with the fact that he’s whipped a long time ago. “What is it?” he asks once he’s shut off the engine, turning towards Sebastian.

Sebastian just looks at him silently for a moment, then says, “Get out of the car.”

“What? Why?”

“I need you to switch places with me.”

“Why?” Chris repeats, puzzled. “If you wanna drive for a bit, you can just ask me that, you know.”

Sebastian just flashes him a grin and opens the passenger door, climbing out of the car. Chris shrugs, following suit and walking over to the other side.

“Get in,” Sebastian orders, though he’s making no move to take place behind the wheel.

Still confused, Chris eases himself into the passenger seat and looks up at Sebastian expectantly. “Now what?”

“Now,” Sebastian says, stepping closer, “I do this.”

Next thing Chris knows, he has a lap full of Sebastian. “What are you- oh.”

“Yes, oh,” Sebastian mimics, taking off his sunglasses and tossing them carelessly onto the unoccupied driver’s seat. His grey-blue eyes sparkle mischievously and Chris’s heartbeat speeds up; a Pavlovian response.

“Here?” he asks incredulously.

“Uh huh.” Sebastian removes Chris’s sunglasses too and leans in, lips only half an inch from his own when he asks, “That okay with you?”

“What if someone sees?”

“Chris. This is literally the most remote road I could find on the map and we’re half hidden by those trees anyway. We’re fine.”

“Oh, I see,” Chris drawls, pressing his lips to Sebastian’s briefly because they’re right there. “So you planned this, huh, you little minx.”

“Maybe,” Sebastian says, tilting his head coquettishly. He reaches back behind him to open the glove compartment, rummaging around for a moment before producing a bottle of lube that he must’ve put there while Chris was busy checking the tire pressure. “And I may or may not be going commando under these shorts.”

Chris groans, closing his eyes as he lets his head thunk back against the headrest. “Sebastian, baby… One of these days you’re gonna kill me, I swear to god.”

Sebastian takes off Chris’s cap and affectionately ruffles his hair. “Only if you haven’t killed me first. Y’know, with your dick.” Sebastian grins goofily at his own, horrendously bad joke and Chris’s heart flip flops in his chest with all kinds of emotions that are far too sappy for the situation they’re in.

“Please do us both a favor and shut up, sweetheart,” Chris says, knowing that Sebastian will be able to see right through the snark, to the love underneath.

Sebastian raises an eyebrow, licking his lips. “Make me.”

“Hmmm, love a challenge.”

Winding one arm around Sebastian’s waist and grabbing his neck with the other, Chris pulls Sebastian in for a hard, filthy kiss. He doesn’t waste any time slipping him some tongue, tracing the tip of it along Sebastian’s perfectly straight, Hollywood teeth, which Chris loved even back when they were still endearingly crooked.

Sebastian moans, catching Chris’s bottom lip between his teeth and sucking on it, the way he knows makes Chris’s knees weak. Chris retaliates by kneading Sebastian’s pert little ass, pulling him closer, pleased to find that Sebastian is already half hard. That makes two of them, then.

“Wait,” Sebastian says after a minute or two of making out like a couple of horny teenagers. “Tilt back your seat.”

“Ooh, smart. Knew you were more than just a pretty face.” Chris slides back the seat as far as it’ll go, but even then there’s not a lot of space for them to move. “You’re gonna have to ride me, though. I can’t move much in this position.”

Sebastian smiles wolfishly. “Not a problem. Have you seen these thighs?” He squeezes Chris’s waist with said thighs to emphasize his point, and Chris let out a deep groan, hips already jerking upwards.

“Uh huh,” he says, through gritted teeth. “I’ve seen ‘em alright. They’re good thighs. Real nice.”

Despite being all bold and flirty up until this point, the simple compliment is enough to make Sebastian blush, his cheeks tinged with pink.

Jesus, he’s sweet. Chris has no choice but to kiss him again. While he’s at it, he slides his right hand into the back of Sebastian’s shorts, squeezing the firm flesh and dipping his fingers between his cheeks. When he rubs a fingertip over Sebastian’s entrance, he looks up in surprise.

“Did you –”

“In the bathroom,” Sebastian smirks.

“That’s why it took so long.”

Sebastian rolls his eyes. “Are you gonna complain about that some more or are you gonna fuck me?”

The words send a jolt of lust through Chris, his mind going blank as his cock eagerly fills up that final bit inside his jeans. “You want me to fuck you, baby?” he rumbles, tightening his grip on Sebastian’s ass.

Sebastian nods, heavy-lidded eyes trained on Chris’s. “Yeah, I want you to fuck me. Been wanting to feel you inside me all day, but you were too busy reading.”

Chris snorts. “I guess I’d better make up for it now, then.”

“Guess you’d better,” Sebastian nods, leaning down to kiss him again while starting to open Chris’s fly.

Chris lifts up his hips to help Sebastian shimmy down his jeans and boxers just far enough to take out his cock. The way Sebastian licks his lips at the sight tells him that he’s dying to suck him off – that pretty mouth is always ready – but that will have to wait until some other time.

“Wish I could get on my knees for you, but there’s no room in this fucking car,” Sebastian laments, echoing Chris’s thoughts.

“It was your idea to take the Camaro.”

Sebastian narrows his eyes. “Yeah, yeah. Less talking, more fucking, thanks.” He wraps his hand around Chris’s length, tightening his grip and stroking him slowly, making Chris’s breath stutter in his throat.

“Oh, that’s it, baby,” he breathes. “God, that feels good.”

“Yeah?” Sebastian tips Chris head back with his free hand and places small, biting kisses to his throat, just below the line of his beard. “That’s all I want, Chris, to make you feel good.”

For that alone, Chris has to kiss him again. He tugs Sebastian’s head up by his hair.

“Unghh,” Sebastian says, delightfully responsive as always when Chris pulls on his hair a bit. Chris dives in and swallows his moans, jerking his hips into the tight circle of Sebastian’s fist.

“Chris, get in me,” Sebastian mutters impatiently.

“Yeah, okay,” Chris pants. “You need some fingers first?”

“No.” Sebastian’s pupils are blown, his mouth slick and red. “Yeah. I don’t know.”

“That’s a yes, then.” Chris replies, unwilling to take any risks with something like this. Sebastian whines in response, but Chris ignores him and grabs the lube, quickly coating his fingers in the stuff before shoving his hand down the back of Sebastian’s shorts again. Carefully, he pushes his forefinger inside, sliding in a second one as soon as he’s satisfied that Sebastian can take it.

“More,” Sebastian whispers already, pressing his forehead to Chris’s. Chris obliges, adding a third finger slowly before spreading them a little, opening Sebastian up bit by bit. He can’t really thrust much in this position, can’t really hit the spot, but he’ll make sure to make up for that later.

“You wanna take these off?” Chris asks when he thinks Sebastian is prepped enough, pulling the waistband of the basketball shorts.

Sebastian shakes his head quickly, all worked up and flushed now. “Nuh uh, just – pull ‘em aside.” He lifts his hips a little, scrunching up the fabric and pulling it aside, creating a wide gap.

“Huh,” Chris says, impressed, “you really did think about this.”

“Yup.” Sebastian peckshim on the lips quickly and adds, “Now shut up and put your dick in me.”

“Yes, sir.”

Sebastian pushes himself up on his knees, hovering over Chris, while Chris holds his dick steady with his right hand and guides it to Sebastian’s opening. Both of them hold their breath as Chris presses against the slight resistance, pushing past Sebastian’s rim until he can slowly, steadily slide inside. It’s so warm in here, so tight and hot and perfect, and Chris has been with many people in his life, but none of them ever felt as good as his baby does.

“Oh, god,” Sebastian moans, “oh fuck, that feels – you feel so…”

“Feels good?” Chris manages to ask, making a concerted effort to drag his foggy mind back into consciousness so he can check if Sebastian’s doing okay.

“So good. So big, holy shit.” Sebastian shudders as he sinks down the final bit, settling in Chris’s lap with Chris now fully seated inside of him. “Why do I never get used to how you feel?” he marvels, burying his face in Chris’s neck. Chris runs his hands up and down Sebastian’s back, soothing him while he gets used to the feeling.

“Too much?”

“Fuck, no. Never toomuch of you, baby.”

For a moment, Chris has to close his eyes to stem the swell of emotions rising up inside his chest. He tightens his arms around Sebastian and squeezes, wishing not for the first time that they could just meld into one.

“Love you so much, baby,” he murmurs into Sebastian’s hair, pressing a kiss there for good measure.

“Love you, too,” Sebastian says quietly, before drawing in a deep breath. He lifts his head and locks his gaze with Chris’s, and for a long moment Chris gets lost in the depths of those steel-blue eyes.

Then, without warning, Sebastian suddenly lifts himself up a couple of inches before pushing back down, causing Chris’s eyes to roll back inside his skull at the sudden stab of sensation.

“Ooohh my fucking god,” Chris groans, hands sliding down Sebastian’s back, grabbing his ass. “Do that again.”

“Do this again?” Sebastian asks, lifting off and sinking down on Chris’s cock again, taking him all the way to the root. Chris growls out something obscene into Sebastian’s collarbone when Sebastian stays seated for a moment and rolls his hip, grinding himself down on Chris’s dick.

“Jesus, you’re so deep.” Sebastian’s eyes are wide, his voice high and breathy, almost like a whine.

“Think I could get deeper?” Chris asks, when Sebastian comes up for air.

Sebastian shrugs, but the way he’s trembling belies the casual gesture. “Worth a try, huh?”

Sebastian starts to ride him then, rising up and sinking down again, taking him to the hilt over and over. They don’t talk for a little while, at least not beyond some bitten off curses and moans, too focused on the way they’re making each other feel to speak. Sebastian’s breaths are coming shorter now, his t-shirt already sticking to his back from the effort it takes working himself on Chris’s cock in the unexpected heat of the day.

“You’re doing so well,” Chris whispers in Sebastian’s ear, knowing how the praise will affect him. “You look so damn good bouncing on my dick like this, sweetheart.”

Sebastian whimpers, trying his best to speed up even further while he tightens involuntarily around Chris’s length. It’s not easy, though, in this position, so Chris helps him out a little by letting his hips snap up, fucking up into him as hard as he’s able.

“Aahh,” Sebastian moans, jerking upright. “Right there, I’m – oh.”

Chris does it again, pushing in deep while Sebastian grinds down, mindlessly chasing his pleasure.

He’s beautiful like this. He’s beautiful always, but especially like this. Lost in pleasure, eyes dark and heavy-lidded and a flush on his cheeks, his red mouth open, looking almost surprised at how good he’s feeling. And that’s all Chris ever wants, too, to make Sebastian feel good. To make him feel better than anyone has made him feel before; to make him feel whole, and owned, and adored. All those things Sebastian craves but isn’t always able to ask for. So Chris doesn’t wait until he asks, he makes it his mission to give it to him whenever he can, anything he needs, whenever he needs it.

Because that’s the wayhe loves Sebastian: always, anything, completely.

A sharp sting brings him back to the present – Sebastian sinking his teeth into the meat of his shoulder. He gets bitey sometimes, when he’s close; a way to give expression to the building tension inside of him. Chris slides a hand up Sebastian’s back, tightly gripping the back of his neck. The hair at his nape is damp with sweat. Chris threads his fingers through it, tightening into a fist while he keeps pumping his hips, burying himself inside of Sebastian over and over.

“You getting close, sweetheart?”

It’s a sound Sebastian makes in reply, not a word, but Chris has learned to interpret all of Sebastian’s sounds by now, and he knows what this one means.

“Chris,” Sebastian breathes, voice barely audible, “Chris, Chris, ahh.”

“I’ve got you, Sebastian. I’ve got you.” He pulls Sebastian’s head back again, firmly but not roughly, and fits their mouths together. Sebastian kisses him deeply, desperately, hands coming up to grab his face as he squirms in his lap. His breath is coming fast, panting into Chris’s mouth, and when Chris reaches down into the front of Sebastian’s shorts and curls his fingers around his length, pulling him out, Sebastian makes a high, keening sound, his ass gripping impossibly tight around Chris’s cock.

“Oh, fuck,” Chris pants, “oh baby, you feel so good, so perfect – Jesus, you’re tight, sweetheart.”

“Come in me,”Sebastian says suddenly, giving Chris a wild, pleading look. “Come in me – please, Chris.”

Chris growls. “Youwant me to fill you up? That what you want? Fill you up with my come?”

“Yes, oh my god, p-please,” Sebastian stutters, “c’mon, do it. Now.”

Not used to being the one to receive orders when they’re like this, the words hit Chris hard, filling him with renewed urgency. He gabs hold of Sebastian’s waist, holding him in place as he jackhammers into him, knowing he’s nailing his prostate with every stroke from the way Sebastian jolts in his arms. Sebastian’s fingers dig into Chris’s biceps as he holds on and takes it, takes it so good – until Chris can’t take anymore and tips over the edge.

His rhythm inevitably falters as he comes, spilling inside the intoxicating heat of Sebastian’s body, giving him everything he’s got. Even as his climax rages through him, somehow Chris remembers to wrap a hand around Sebastian’s cock, jerking him fast and sloppily until Sebastian keens, the breath being punched out of him by his orgasm. Chris feels him spill, warm and sticky, over his hand, staining his abdomen and shorts.

Finally, they’re both spent, Sebastian slumping against Chris’s chest. He breathing hard, still, but it’s slowing now, and Chris tries to match his own breaths to Sebastian’s.

“Hmmm,” Sebastian hums finally, turning his head to press a wet, sloppy kiss to Chris’s throat. “Chris?”

“Yeah, honey?”

“Love you.”

Sebastian’s always so pliant and sweet after sex, warm and cuddly and affectionate, and Chris cherishes those moments, soaking it all up to keep for later, when they’re apart.

“Love you too, sweetheart,” he whispers, runninga hand up and down Sebastian’s sweaty back in long, soothing strokes. “Youhappy now?”

“Very,” Sebastian says contentedly, and Chris can feel him smile against his neck.

“Good.” He presses a lingering kiss to the side of Sebastian’s face. “Thanks for helping me christen the Camaro.”

Sebastian snorts. “Anytime. And I mean that.”

#evanstan #rpf #real person fiction #chris evans x sebastian stan #my writing #my fic #chris evans #sebastian stan #smut #ao3

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capricornus-rex · 4 years

Text

Old Friend, New Family (4)

Requested by Anon | Prompt:

Hey I was wondering if you’d take a prompt where the reader is an ex-padawan who’s master died pretty early on in order 66, and was instead saved by a clone that removed his inhibitor chip. Then maybe they get separated, and years later when the reader is a crew member on the Mantis, they come across the clone again? How would the crew, especially Cal and Cere, react to meeting a friendly ex-soldier clone who’s close with the reader? Could you make it full of angst then fluff? Love your writing!

Tags: Defected! Clone Trooper, Jedi Survivor! Reader, Order 66 Survivor

Also posted in AO3

Chapters: 1 – 2 | Previous: Part 3 | Next: Part 5 | Masterlist

4 of ?

The Mantis charted a course to Kashyyyk. For the rest of the trip, you sat on the couch, still finding yourself in deep thought. As you drew nearer to the planet, something in there was beckoning you, although you cannot say for sure what it was—it was a feeling, but of what?

Upon your arrival in the planet’s orbit, you’re met with a blockade of Star Destroyers. Cere made quick work of masking the ship’s signature in the Empire’s radar while entering the planet.

“[y/n], can you radars for me?”

“No problem, Cere,”

You watched the wall of monitors behind Greez’s seat, while the captain tries to fly casual, you kept a close eye on the radars—the blips indicating the Star Destroyers’ signature glowed in the same color as the Mantis.

“Okay, we’re good,” you breathed.

The shadow of the gargantuan command ship blanketed the smaller cruiser ship entering the planet. You weren’t sure if the pounding in your eardrums was your heart or the Star Destroyer’s thrusters pumping. You got through the blockade quietly and entered the sea of clouds of Kashyyyk’s atmosphere.

Once you’ve cut through the sheet of clouds and revealed the vast green landscape, you’re greeted by a TIE Fighter whooshing in only to be obliterated by a rebel gunship right in front of the Mantis’s windshield.

“What was that!?” you screeched.

“Kid, aren’t you supposed to be watching the monitors?!” Greez cries at Cal.

“Guerilla fighters! They’ve ambushed an assault convoy!”

“Walkers are approaching their position!” Cere added.

Keeping the objective of finding Tarfful in mind, Cal had to cook up a plan—and fast.

“Sabotage,” Cal said nonchalantly as he hopped out of his seat. “We used to scrap walkers in Bracca. I’ll just jack one.”

“Get a load of this kid, he think he’s back in the Clone Wars!” Greez scoffed.

“Babe, I love your confidence,” you start off with a blank, unreadable tone until Cal spotted your smirk. “But I say go for it!”

“You two kids are gonna do no good to my blood pressure and my ship, you know that!?”

Cere tells Greez to fly the Mantis closer to the AT-AT walkers rising up from the depths of the Origin River. You slammed the button and the door whizzes open.

“Cal, do me a favor? Stay alive down there,”

“I’ll add that to the plan,” he turned to you, a flirtatious smug plastered on his face. “See you around?”

You grab him by the scruff of his poncho and stole a kiss, “Sure, I’ll be alive at the next stop past that disaster.”

You and Cere braced the walls for balance, Cal slowly stepped out of the moving ship and timed his jump.

“Ready for a swim, BD!?”

“Trill, BEEEEP!!!”

You watched Cal spring from the entry ramp, his whooping howl echoed as he vanished in the wind. Cere then turned to you.

“There he goes,” you said casually.

“Come on, [y/n], you take Cal’s seat at the cockpit and help us out,”

“No problem!”

Cal and BD-1 safely dropped into the Origin River and swam towards the moss-draped AT-AT walkers. Meanwhile, the Mantis crew worked their way through the dogfight in the sky.

“Hey kid, you a good shot?” said Greez.

“Why?”

“You’re gonna help me get through those TIE Fighters!”

Greez activated the Mantis’s ion cannons for you. A device pops out of its hatch from the floor and erects in front of you—revealing a steering analog complete with a targeting computer. Your eyes widened in great amazement—ion cannon analogs and targeting computers weren’t new to you, but fairly enough, it has been five years since you’ve seen some aerial action.

“Does Cal know about this?!” you squealed.

“Naw, this is the first time I’ve turned that thing on after a while! Now go on and get ‘em!”

You wore the headset that came with the analog and computer, you kept your eye on the targeting device until the TIE Fighter’s blip stayed still in the circle.

Clack!

You crunched the trigger buttons and out comes twin lasers shooting out of the ship’s armaments, the TIE Fighter went down in the first shot.

“Not bad!” Greez commended, but then muttered under his breath, though in a good way. “Heh, beginner’s luck.”

Peering through the windshield, you spotted a single AT-AT attacking another AT-AT and immediately you knew that it was Cal maneuvering the friendly AT-AT.

“Looks like Cal’s sabotage plan worked,” you blurted and continued clearing the air out of hostiles.

“Kid’s having way too much with that thing!”

“Who wouldn’t?” a grin played along your lips.

Greez rolled his eyes when he saw the look on your face, “Oh, of course, peas in a pod, the pair of ya! Why do I even bother?!”

The Lateron steered clear of the skirmish in the ground as Cal slowly disappears into that trench pass, a larger TIE—which you guessed to be a shuttle-type—hovers low behind the high rock walls. The sabotaged walker trade blasters and cannons with that imposing, dark grey ship.

“Looks like we’ll have to push a little harder!” Cal exclaimed.

Cal pressed the buttons of the trigger hard, releasing a pair of ballistics out of the AT-AT’s twin barrels and meeting its mark on the TIE shuttle’s hull. The young Jedi, suddenly trigger-happy, continued sending blasts to the enemy hovering across him until it was beginning to burst in flames.

“Come on…!” Cal snarled through clenched teeth.

The wings of the TIE imploded, a firework of sparks sputtered out of the vehicle, Cal celebrated with a smug chuckle but instantaneously disappeared when he saw that the ship is spinning out of control towards him.

“BRACE YOURSELF, BD!!!”

The AT-AT went down when the damaged TIE shuttle collided with it. Fortunately, Cal and BD-1 popped out of the emergency exit hatch at the bridge unscathed.

“Yeah, I’m okay. And you?”

“Bee, trill!”

“No, we are not doing that again,” Cal wagged his finger at the little mischief of a droid.

A gruff, dark man clad in bulk armor approached him.

“You just wrecked a perfectly good walker!”

Cal shrugged his shoulders, merely translating to “What else would you want me to do?”

The hulking man introduced himself as Saw Gerrera and immediately asked the boy his purpose of going to Kashyyyk in such interesting timing.

Before Cal could even answer, the Mantis hovered and landed on the hangar; you’re overly eager to hop out of the ship and jumped off the entry ramp in the middle of its unfolding. Before you could run up to Cal, you surveyed the destruction of the landing pad—your enthusiastic smile dissolved at the sight of the guerilla fighters in pain and immobilized. It almost reminded you of that particular event.

You walked up to Cal and then introduced yourself to Saw.

“So, what’s your business with him?”

“Jedi business,”

“The Jedi are dead,”

“Not all,” Cere cut in.

You and Cal tugged your lightsabers off of your belts. When questioned with how you got those weapons, the two young Jedi took no offense and answered respectively.

“My master gave it to me,”

“It’s been on my hip ever since I was a kid,”

“Well, my companions and I are trying to liberate the enslaved Wookiees, some of them are bound to know where Tarfful is,”

“You don’t mind if we take a look around?”

The guerilla leader didn’t mind. He quickly returned his mind to his responsibilities in front of him.

“My scouts have reported an Imperial transport filled with medical supplies, we need it more than the Imperials do. Can one of you make a run for it?”

You stepped in, “I could do that.”

“Alright, take some companions with you. You’re not carrying all of those alone,”

There was no room in arguing about that so you let Saw’s fighters accompany you to where the medical supplies are held. Cal snatched your wrist, stopping you in your tracks.

“Wait,”

“What is it?”

He gingerly cupped your cheek and snuck in a kiss before you go.

“See you around?” he throws back the question to you.

“Yeah,” you bite your lip as you failed miserably in hiding a flirtatious smile. “See you.”

Cal didn’t let go of your hand, it slipped away as you walked farther from him; you cleared your throat, collecting your bearings before following one of the partisans taking the lead. The redhead then walked to the opposite direction towards the elevator leading to the forest trench.

Meanwhile, you had no problem getting along with the partisans.

“Your boyfriend sure seems protective of you,” one of them commented after the two of you slid off the body of the fallen AT-AT to the other side of the path.

A reaction that ought to be a chuckle turned out to be an awkward, casual scoff. She didn’t

“I’m Adrina, by the way, we look like we’re ‘bout the same age,”

“Name’s [y/n]. Nice to meet you,”

“Likewise!”

“Come on now, we’re not that far!” the leader hollered from the front of the pack.

It was a good thing that Cal didn’t blow up that one supply bay stationed along the trench pass. It was almost too convenient.

“There they are!” the leader announced and then waved his hand in the direction of the bay’s veranda, calling the attention of the fighters waiting for them.

The soldiers on the platform kicked down two ladders for all of you. As soon as you hauled yourself up and met with the group securing the supplies, the next thing wasn’t exactly you weren’t anticipating ever since you got into this planet.

“Well, it’s about time you hauled your asses up here to get these supplies—otherwise, I’d have given it to those Imps!”

The voice that came with those words made your chest constrict and you heart beat out of rhythm.

You know that voice better than anyone else.

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bittykimmy13 · 4 years

Text

Best Wishes (GT) ~ 1

This is G/t fanfiction of the Netflix movie The Half of It. Watch the movie if you haven't seen it. Enjoy.

I certainly enjoyed it so much that I immediately needed a G/t version of it :') This will probably be a shorter story, with short chapters. Just something cute and light after the slew of angst the past couple years haha (but yes of course there will be angst, who do you think I am?) Anyway, this takes place in a potential future of the print universe. YEP, a print story where the characters aren't under immediate threat of physical pain/death 24/7 <333

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Mid-afternoon sun beat down on the lonely stretch of road. Autumn pedaled her bike on a separate print-sized path beside the tree line, bracing herself whenever human cars roared by. Luckily, those were few and far between at this time of day. Unless humans were headed for the southern exit of the town where their kind of homes were sparse, they didn’t have much reason to be there. Mostly, all that remained at this end was a tight cluster of print neighborhoods and woodland.

It would be easier if she paid for human transportation to and from her summer job, but she told herself every morning that she needed to save money and that it wasn’t her pride holding her back. If she wanted to sustain herself through the next school year, she’d need to tough out the commute on her own.

The rumble of an engine approached in the distance. She tensed, but didn’t stop pedaling. This engine in particular was familiar—one she had been dreading.

Sure enough, as the pick-up truck slowed beside her, the human boys inside shouted at her through the open windows.

“Think you’ll make it home by morning?”

“Aww, why’re you ignoring us, mouse? Think you’re too good?”

“Why don’t you come in here and sit on my lap? I’ll get you where you need to go!”

Autumn kept her eyes trained on the path in front of her. It wasn’t worth snapping back at them. One, they wouldn’t hear her over the sound of that old-world relic of a pick-up. Two, they were all easily over six feet tall. She didn’t even reach mid-calf for them. Let them have their fun from the road, as long as they didn’t get out to stop her on the path and tower over her.

Keep it together. You’ll be free of them again in a couple months.

Their laughter faded as the truck roared ahead, and she could finally breathe again. She swore they took the long way these days just to mess with her. Now that they were gone, her tense anticipation of their approach could be laid to rest until tomorrow. However, her moment of relaxation lasted roughly five minutes.

A rhythmic pounding came from behind her—the footsteps of a jogging human. She clenched her jaw and kept her eyes forward. Why couldn’t some humans get it through their thick skulls that this path wasn’t meant for their exercise? It was meant for prints like her to get home somewhat safely if they didn’t have a ride. Besides, who the hell wanted to be running in this heat? As the footsteps became more pronounced, she groaned and started to swerved her bike off the path to let the human pass her without potential murder.

“Hey!” The human’s steps slowed as his voice boomed after her. “Autumn Yang!”

She braked so hard she nearly fell off her bike. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw a human with wavy dark-blond hair coming after her on the path. She blanched in recognition. He’d gone to high school with her, like the other boys in the pick-up. Tucker West. Had they really deployed one of the guys to come after her on foot? Her hand tensed on the phone in her pocket as she wondered if she should call for help.

There was no time. She pedaled hard.

“Wait up!” His pounding footsteps kicked up to a jog again.

It was laughable how easily he caught up. In no time at all, his shadow had fallen over her, but she didn’t stop. She didn’t dare look back, knowing she’d lose her balance if she dared to peer up at his dizzying height. From the brief look she’d gotten, he was somehow taller now since graduation.

“Autumn, hey! I said wait up!”

The shadow darkened, and her bike came to an abrupt stop. The momentum launched her over the handles, making her come to a hard fall on the asphalt. She winced at the scrape on her forearm and sat up, scrambling to face Tucker West.

He was crouched low with one hand braced to the ground, while his other fingers still pinched the back tire of her bike. His dark eyes were wide, and his lips were parted dumbly as he assessed what he had done.

“Wow, I-I’m sorry,” he stammered, giving a laugh of disbelief. “Shit, I didn’t know you were gonna fall like that.”

“You expected me to fall a different way?” She picked herself up and dusted her shorts off. “What’s wrong with you? Besides not knowing how physics work.”

“No, really, I’m sorry. But you weren’t stopping, and I…” He shrugged lamely.

Praying that he couldn’t see how badly she trembled under his shadow, she stormed over to her bike and grabbed the handles. “Give it back, Tucker. Leave me alone. We’re not in fucking high school anymore—I dunno why you and your friends couldn’t mature past your glory days, but leave me out of it.”

He cocked his head. “My friends?”

“Oh, don’t play dumb. The assholes who’ve been screeching past me every day since I came home for the summer.”

“You mean Jason and them? They’re not my friends.” He kept his grip on the bike, seemingly unaware that she was trying to wrench it out of his fingers. “Look, I saw you were back in town, and I have a favor to ask. See, there’s this girl—”

“No, I will not help you seduce some girl by pretending to be your quirky print friend to prove you have a softer side. Beat it, or I’ll tell her you stalked me on my way home.”

Cheeks flushing, he shook his head. “That’s not it! Remember how you used to write people’s assignments for them?”

Of course she remembered. How could she not? The money she’d made from that had ensured she could eat comfortably while she was away for her freshman year of college. She stopped pulling on the bike and narrowed her eyes at him. She’d written a few papers for him back then, but that was the long and short of their interaction.

“Somehow, I doubt you need a philosophy analysis written for you in the middle of summer, two years out of high school,” she said.

Despite her flat tone, he looked at her excitedly, like she was a co-conspirator in a scheme she knew nothing about. “Well, you’re right about me needing your help with the girl. I mean, not the seducing her part, but uh… yeah, okay, kinda.”

“Either give me the point, or give me my bike.”

“You’re good at writing, okay? And I need help with that.” He pursed his lips and shrugged.

“Look, I’m not good with words, so I want to write her a letter. I tried already by myself, but it never sounds good, you know?”

She gave the bike another test tug, disappointed to find that his fingers’ grip hadn’t slackened in tandem with that wistful look on his face. She scoffed. “Write a letter? Like on paper? Who does that?”

He pouted. “I thought it would be romantic.”

“I mean, I guess. If she’s into that kind of stuff. Who is she, anyway?”

“Lacey. Lacey Ramirez.”

Autumn let go of the bike and staggered back a few steps, arms limp at her sides.

“You know her, don’t you?” Tucker said. “Didn’t you used to be friends with her?” He paused, taking in her slack-jawed expression and tense stance. “Oh. Do you guys have bad blood? Shit, I figured it would be easier for you to help since you know her.”

She shook her head. “N-no, we don’t have bad blood. But I’m not doing this. I’m not helping you write a stupid love letter to Lacey Ramirez. Just go talk to her. It’s not that hard.”

“You don’t get it! It’s hard. It’s, like, super hard.”

For all his insistence, he finally let go of the bike when Autumn lunged forward and jerked at the handles again. She gave one last look at his knelt form towering over her, feeling a spike of bitterness. Of course it wouldn’t be hard for him to win Lacey over. He was tall, handsome, and built. But most importantly, human. A perfect match for Lacey. She turned around and started walking her bike away.

“I’ll pay you,” he said. She walked a little faster, worried he’d give chase again. She was still within reach of his stupid long arms, but he didn’t make a grab. “However much you need. Set your price.”

Autumn hesitated, and his voice jumped.

“I’m in love with her,” he insisted. “Please. You have to help me. I’m sure you could use the money.”

She glared over her shoulder. “What makes you say that?”

He leaned back a little and planted his hands on his lap, perhaps to make it seem like he wasn’t trying to crowd her. “I dunno. You’re working, aren’t you? That means you need money.”

She did.

Hissing out a sigh, she pinched the bridge of her nose. “One letter.” He started to grin and straighten up in excitement, prompting her to hold up a finger. “One letter! And I name my price after I finish it. I’ll type up a draft and send it so you can write it out. What’s your number?”

“What? No, hey, I want to be there with you while you come up with it. We could help each other, can’t we?”

She rolled her eyes. “Where?”

“Library, tomorrow at noon?”

She frowned, shocked that he was so casually okay with being seen in public with a print. It wasn’t exactly outlandish these days, she just didn’t figure someone like him would be alright with it.

Maybe it was the surprise that made her nod. “Fine. But I work tomorrow, so let’s make it two.”

“So we have a deal!” His hand shot toward her, and she might have fallen on her ass if he hadn’t stopped a few safe inches away. He held his finger and thumb slightly parted—an invitation to a handshake that she would much rather not attend.

But, figuring it would get him out of her hair faster, she stiffly walked closer and placed her hand on his fingertip. She braced for pressure, but he was actually quite gentle when he pinched her hand and moved it down once. After getting tossed off her bike, she never would have expected that from him.

“See ya tomorrow.” He let go and gave a small wave. His grin was wide and blinding as he stood up.

She couldn’t help but flinch, seeing him at his full height again. He didn’t linger, though. The pound of footsteps resumed, but this time they headed away from her. It wasn’t until he was a good distance away that she, for the second time, could breathe again.

As she mounted her bike and started pedaling, her mind swam in disbelief of what had just happened. Tucker West, former football star and high school has-been, had sought out her help with a handwritten love letter. And for Lacey Ramirez, of all people.

It wouldn’t be hard finding the words—just hard to share them. She hadn’t spoken much to Lacey since sophomore year of high school. It wasn’t that they had a falling out or bad blood. It was just that Autumn had quietly pulled away from that friendship when she came to the terrifying realization that she had fallen in love with Lacey.

#gt #gt writing #mywriting #giant #tiny #best wishes #autumn #tucker #size difference #romance #print universe

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withyounct · 5 years

Text

What’s wrong kid? (6)

Reader x Single dad!Jaehyun

Genre: Fluff

Words: 4.7k

Prompt: You notice a child crying at a school playground. You decide to see what’s up and meet an extremely stressed/extremely handsome father.

Prev | Next

A/n: This is ridiculously long… holy shit. Enjoy!

Pulling up at Jaehyun’s office building two emotions ran through you. One, you were irritated. You had been up for the past 48 hours working on a twenty-page paper. Albeit it was your fault for waiting till the last minute to write it. Two, you were confused. Jaehyun had sent you a vague text to meet him at his office after class, that you didn’t need to worry about picking up Hyunjin today. You looked up at the tall building and on any other given day you would stare and gawk at it, but today you just wanted to figure out what was going on and go home. Walking into the lobby, you dialed Jaehyun’s number. It went to voicemail and you paused and sent him a here text. A few minutes went by and no reply. You noticed how everyone that passed by would look you up and down as you were dressed in ripped jeans and an MCR graphic tee. You silently cursed to yourself for not having any of his friends’ numbers and walked over to the receptionist.

The lady had her eyebrows raised at your presence, but still asked if she could help you.

“Hi. I'm here to see Jung Jaehyun.” You smiled, trying to sound like you belonged in such a building.

“Do you have an appointment?” She asked pulling up a screen on the computer without looking away from you.

“Well no, bu-”

“I'm sorry, but Mr. Jung is a very busy man. Please come back when you have an appointment set.” She smiled before returning to her computer. You stood there and weighed your options. You could one, wait for Jaehyun to call/text back. Or go home and take a nap. Choosing the latter, you were in the middle of telling the lady to have a good day when Doyoung entered the lobby. He scanned the area and smiled when his eyes locked on yours.

“My child!” He yelled happily as he approached. You flinched and glanced around at the other people looking between you two. Before you could say anything he took your hand and dragged you to the elevators. He pressed the button and lightly tapped his foot until it arrived. He held his arm out for you to go first and you thanked him.

From your handful of encounters with him you noticed that he was more on the talkative side of the spectrum when it came to Jaehyun’s friends. So, you knew something was wrong when he stood there quietly.

“What’s going on?” You squinted at him. He plastered on a smile and look innocently at you. Not buying it, you folded your arms over your chest.

“All I can say is that it’s Johnny’s idea and I apologize for my part in advance.” He sighed, running his fingers through his hair.

You nodded and pouted. “Okay…can I go back down and leave or is that not an option?”

“It’s not.” You guessed, but tried anyway.

The lift dinged and you were ushered into the hallway. You were barely paying attention, but you figured that you were on the top level. Doyoung led the way and you glanced at the gold plaques that every door had with names and positions in the company. He stopped at the door that read conference room and opened the door for you. Looking up at him, you peered into the room.

Everyone, but Jaehyun was present. You liked his friends, but your guard was immediately up. Doyoung walked past you to join them at the round table and gestured you to come sit. Hesitantly, you did.

Johnny cleared his throat as you surveyed their serious expressions.

“Jaehyun wasn’t the one who texted me, right?” You said before Johnny could get anything out. You looked everyone in the eyes. Before landing back on Johnny. “You guys are about to do that thing where you ‘interrogate’ me and see if I'm truly a good fit for Jaehyun and by extension Hyunjin. You’re doing this because you care about them and that’s sweet. I was expecting this sooner if I'm being honest, but I just finished a twenty-page paper and I'm tired and slightly more irritated than I’ve ever been. So, for the sake of our growing friendship and my sanity can we please cut the bullshit?”

Everyone, including yourself, was taken aback. It came out harsher than you wanted it to, but you were working on two hours of sleep and an outrageous amount of caffeine.

You were about to apologize when Taeyong smiled and Sicheng and Yuta busted out a laugh.

“Wow she saw straight through your plan in like five seconds.” Yuta cried at Johnny. Taeil chuckled alongside them and asked how much sugar do you like in your coffee before going to make you some.

“That was unnecessary, I'm sorry.” You rubbed your face and groaned.

“Don’t worry about it. We like you.” Johnny comforted, patting your back.

“Where’s Jaehyun?” You asked as Taeil handed you your cup.

“We ditched him with one of the shareholders. Johnny stole his phone before he left.” Taeyong informed. You hummed and sipped on your coffee. Was it a good idea to add more caffeine to your system? No. But, Taeil was nice enough to make it for you.

“So,” Taeyong started grabbing everyone’s attention. “I think I can wrap up everything and everyone’s concern in one question. Do you see this relationship lasting?”

The first thing you noticed when you first met Taeyong was his sharp features. Everything about him was clean and cut like someone took centuries sculpting him perfectly. However, they forgot about his eyes. They were soft, warm, and a welcome contrast to him.

The strictness of his tone lost its severity when you looked in the eyes that conveyed hope from your answer.

“Yes.” You smiled simply.

Collective breaths were released, and a smile made its way on everyone’s face.

“Thank god.” Doyoung leaned back in his chair as if the tension left him weak.

You laughed at how easy that simple answer calmed their hearts. They didn’t ask any other question which you appreciated because you weren’t ready to give them a ‘I don’t know’ answer.

You were in the middle of talking when the door slammed open.

“You guys are a bunch of asshol-. Y/n?” Jaehyun closed the door confused. Once again you were faced with two options. You could play up the situation or say hi like normal. You glanced at Doyoung and a mutual understanding was made.

“Jaehyun.” You started sadly looking pitiful at him. Doyoung rushed to your side burying your face in his chest. You stifled a laugh that threatened to break through.

“Johnny has just been the absolute worse.” Yuta chimed in, happy to play along.

“He stole your phone and has spent the last thirty minutes hounding Y/n.” Taeil surprisingly joined. He walked over and soothed your back for added effect as collective nods and fingers were being pointed in Johnny’s direction.

Jaehyun’s head slowly turned from you to Johnny the look of murder being conveyed.

“You guys are fucking liars.” Johnny hissed, flustered at Jaehyun’s growing anger. “Listen they’re over exaggerating. I only did it because you threw us all off with the whole lov-”

Taeyong quickly pushed his chair and kicked Johnny hard. You looked between them confused before scooting away from Doyoung.

“He’s right we’re over doing it, nothing actually happened.” You smiled. You got up and walked over to Jaehyun, kissing him on the cheek. “I would love to stay and chat, but I'm tired so I'm gonna go.”

“Let me walk you down.”

You told him that it was unnecessary, but he did it anyway. When you reached the ground floor Jaehyun pulled you over to the receptionist desk and told the lady to put your name down in the system as VIP entry. She looked skeptically at the two of you, but did it anyways. Jaehyun interlocked your hand as he led you to your car. You tried to fight back a blush due to all the people staring at you. Like usual Jaehyun gave you a goodbye kiss before sending you on your way.

When you reached your apartment, you cut off the engine and sat there in silence. You weren’t dumb so you could guess what Johnny was about to say and why they were concerned about if you were ready to be this involved with Jaehyun. But, you also didn’t want to jump to conclusions.

Way too tired to think about anything, you got out your car and after a lot of effort made it into the apartment. You were glad that Kun and Ten weren’t home yet and went straight to the freezer. Grabbing Ten’s ice cream, you wrote a ‘I’ll buy you another one’ note on the fridge before going to your room. You ate the container until you couldn’t feel your cheeks and passed out.

“Y/n you’re dissociating again.” You looked away from the window to find Lucas staring at you. “Are you okay?”

You pondered for a moment. “No.”

That got everyone’s attention. You were always the type to say you were okay even though you weren’t because it was just easier. But, you needed some advice, so you told them about yesterday.

“I don’t want to put words in his mouth or jump to any conclusions, but what if he really did tell them that he’s in love with me?” You sighed.

“Well, how does that make you feel?” Mark asked.

You just shrugged your shoulder weakly because you didn’t know. You’ve never been in love before. Nothing past the platonic love that you have for your friends. Romantic love was a foreign concept for you. You were doing down the deep hole of over thinking when Jeno cut through.

“Talk to him.” He suggested. “This isn’t anything you’ve experience before, so it would help to talk about it and work out your feeling together. It’s obvious that you more than like him, but that doesn’t mean its love yet. If he says it don’t feel pressured to say it back, okay?” Jeno reassured.

“I'm changing your name to Jeno the Wise.” You smiled, pulling out your phone.

“What was it before?”

“Don’t worry about it.”

It was a rare event when both you and Jaehyun could put Hyunjin to bed. He claimed that since the guys ditched him earlier that week he could be petty and leave when he wanted to. Hyunjin was a bouncing mess and you read half her library before she finally fell asleep. Jaehyun was reading through some documents on his iPad while you mindlessly scrolled through Instagram on his bed. The conversation from earlier replayed in your mind and you accidently let out a heavy sigh.

“I'm being boring, sorry.” Jaehyun sat down his tablet and pulled you onto his chest. You slid your phone into your back pocket and smiled up at him.

“No, it wasn’t you, but I'm glad I have your attention.” You giggled.

Jaehyun wasted no time pinning you to the bed and sealing your lips together. You sighed into the kiss as he ran his hand down your side. He butterflied kisses from your jaw down to your neck. You stifled a whimpered that threatened to slip through as he bit down at a sensitive spot below your ear. He kissed the bruise and went on to make more around your neck and collarbone.

“It’s getting late, you should get home before I don’t let you leave.” He whispered against your skin.

“What if I don’t want to go?” You brought his face up to yours again and slowly kissed him. You waited until he took control before pulling away. “But you're right it is late, and I don’t have a change of clothes. Pity.” You laughed and rolled off the bed.

“God you're such a tease.” He groaned into the pillow and followed you outside.

“Clear up your weekend for me.” He said as you unlocked your car. You turned, looking at him confused.

“Do I get to know what for?” You asked wrapping your arms around his neck.

“Nope.” He smiled down and lightly kissed you. “Drive safe.”

Instead of going home like normal you made a detour to Renjun, Jeno, and Jaemin’s shared apartment. Renjun was confused when he opened the door, but let you in when he saw the array of snacks in your hands.

“Okay I have a mysterious date this weekend, so I propose we move the Stranger Things binge sleepover to tonight and skip our morning classes.” You announced to everyone in the living room. They looked amongst themselves before sending you a thumbs up.

“Kun can never know.” You shuddered, remembering last time you got caught skipping with your friends.

“Trust me. I rather die than sit through another Kun lecture.” Jaemin agreed, taking the popcorn bag from you and wandering into the kitchen.

Friday came along and you were packing. Jaehyun was reluctant to tell you anything, but you needed to know what to pack for. He eventually gave you a vague ‘casual and cool’ which was little help. Sighing, you settled with a few spring attire and called it a day. As you were grabbing your toothbrush you received a ‘here’ text from him. You said your goodbyes to your roommates and met him outside.

“Hello beautiful.” He greeted as he kissed your cheek and took your bag from you.

“Someone is in a great mood.” You laughed getting into the car. Jaehyun hummed as a reply and drove off. He informed you that it was going to be a long ride and if you wanted you could take a nap. You of course declined and told him that you wanted to keep him company; only to fall asleep an hour into the ride.

“Y/n wake up. We’re here.” Jaehyun lightly tapped you awake. You looked around confused in your current groggy form as he wandered over to your side and unbuckled you from the seat. You looked past him, and your eyes widened.

“Whoa.” You whispered. You looked out at the beautiful view of the ocean ahead of you. You heard Jaehyun chuckle, calling you cute, and grabbed the bags. It took you a second to collect yourself before you followed him into the beach house.

“Since its pretty late I'm gonna start making dinner and you can go take a shower and relax for a while.” He stated after putting away all the luggage.

“I can help.” You offered and was met with a shake.

“Nope. I'm pampering you on this trip. Now go relax.” Jaehyun shooed you out the kitchen and into the hallway. You pouted for a second and decided fine. You walked through the house and found the master bedroom. You got desensitize with how nice and expensive everything was around Jaehyun, but this room changed that for you. You whistled when you entered the master bath and smiled gleefully at the jacuzzi type bathtub. The inner child in you demanded a bubble bath and you were happy to appease it. As you set into the hot bath you turned on the Bluetooth and zoned out with your chill playlist surrounding you.

After an hour and a sufficient amount of wrinkles on your fingers and toes you got out, changed, and found Jaehyun in the kitchen.

“You’re still not allowed to help.” He warned pointing the spatula at you. You laughed holding up your hands in surrender. You slid into one of the stools as Jaehyun poured you a glass of wine. You looked at the glass and started to giggle. Earlier that day you were eating chili cheese fries with Yangyang and now you were drinking wine that probably cost the same as tuition.

You got bored and started pestering Jaehyun. You hopped down from the stool and hugged him from behind. He snickered as you followed him around the kitchen without letting go.

“Have I ever told you how cute you are?”

“Several times a day.” You teased. He turned around in your arms and placed a chaste kiss on your lips.

“Go out to the terrace. I’ll bring the food out.” He pinched your cheek and sent you away. You skipped outside and smiled at his set up. It was a simple candlelight dinner with light stringed around the terrace. The main appeal was that it overlooked the ocean. You sat yourself and sipped on your wine. Jaehyun came out a few minutes later and set a plate in front of you. It was French pepper steak dinner. He poured you more wine and the two of you talked over dinner.

You were a notorious light weight, so you were a bit tipsy. You knew Jaehyun was a funny guy, but you found yourself giggling at everything he said, and you were too busy laughing to see the hearts in his eyes. He held your hand and interlocked your fingers on the table. You smiled at him then out at the sky. The stars were out, so you started to name the ones you knew. Jaehyun sat quietly listening to the sound of your voice and the calm sound of the ocean mixing together in perfect harmony and smiled fondly.

Jaehyun proposed walking on the beach after dinner and you happily agreed. You ran to find your sandals and met him outside. You walked down the little trail to the private beach and skipped around. Determining that the sandals just got in the way, you took them off. Jaehyun took your hand in his and held your shoes for you. As you walked down the shore you collected seashells. You told Jaehyun that it would be a fun activity for you and Hyunjin to make stuff out of them.

“I've never seen you this happy. Did you come to the beach as a child?” He asked swinging your arm.

“Nope. Sick kid remember.” You bent down and picked up another shell. “The first time and only time I went was senior year. It was a graduation trip my friends and I set up. Growing up I always wanted too, so when we went I had so much fun. I'm a sucky swimmer and everyone was scared shitless because I would go too far or run into a wave with reckless abandon and threw caution to the wind.” You laughed. “Haechan had to sit me down and put me in ‘time out’ because I was under the water for too long. I'm pretty sure I raised all their blood pressure that day.”

“I can only imagine.” He chuckled next to you.

“I cried when it was time to go. It was childish, but it was before I knew that we all got into the same university. So, that trip was like our last goodbye in my mind. I guess they couldn’t stand seeing me like that, so Mark let us stay longer.” You smiled. “I felt bad afterwards since he had to drive us back at night. I apologized the whole way back, even though he said I was worth it.”

“Because you are.” Jaehyun stopped and spun you into his arms. “We can go swimming later in the day tomorrow.”

You walked back to the house and got ready for bed. A wave of shyness smacked you when you exited the bathroom. It was stupid, you thought, you had literally slept in his bed on multiple occasions. But, now you were suddenly shy?

“I um set up another room if you don’t want to sleep here.” He said his voice laced with the same shyness.

‘Ah we’re both stupid. Nice to know.’ You thought. Laughing, you got under the covers and beckoned him to do the same. He clicked off the lights and wrapped his arms around you like normal. There was an awkward tension in the air

“We’re idiots.” You laughed into his chest, efficiently killing the tension. Jaehyun laughed alongside with you and you felt him relax.

“I won’t do anything until you’re ready.” He reassured.

“I know. Thank you.” You lightly kissed him before resting your head back on his chest. You fell asleep to the sound of his steady heartbeat.

You woke up to see Jaehyun smiling down at you as he caressed your cheek.

“Good morning creep.” You yawned.

“Morning beautiful.” He beamed. It was already noon so you both got up and got ready to explore the little town near the house. You finished before him and sat on the porch swing and waited. You were playing with the hem of your dress when he walked out. He placed a sun hat on your head, called you cute, and led you to the car.

The town was your stereotypical ocean town. Beautiful and colorful. The first thing you did when you arrived was found an ice cream parlor. Walking around with a cone in hand you dragged Jaehyun into every store that caught your eye. Seeing the smile on your face he was happy to obliged.

Jaehyun had stopped to call and check up on Hyunjin who was with Johnny for the weekend. While he was on call, you spotted a small jewelry shop and wandered to it. There was an elderly woman running the store that smiled at you when you entered You looked around not really looking for anything in particular. Your eyes landed on a necklace set and you picked it up. It was simple; two silver necklaces with a half circle pendant that when combined made the moon. It was your style and you fell in love with it. You bought it without giving it an afterthought and rejoined Jaehyun outside.

You were done shopping and ready to go swimming. So, when you got back home you changed into the bathing suit Jaehyun had bought you in five seconds flat. You bounced around while Jaehyun got all the things ready to take down to the beach. A few minutes later you headed down.

“When you say reckless aband-” He started while setting up the umbrella.

“No regard for my own life.” You stated bluntly. You wasted no time peeling off your dress and skipped over towards the water.

“Stop.” Jaehyun called and you halted your step. You turned towards him and noticed his ear become red at your half naked form. He was flustered, but persisted. “Be careful. I’ll join you in a minute.”

You nodded and continuing over. The moment you enter you were taken down by a wave. You laughed as you resurfaced.

Leaning back, you floated around until you felt Jaehyun’s arm around you. Turning yourself upright you leaned into his embrace, securing your arms around his neck. He was about to lean in for a kiss when you dropped your arm and splashed him in the face.

The war that commenced was one of unnecessary magnitude and left you both exhausted. You crowned yourself the victor and swam circles around him. Laughing at your childishness he grabbed you and finally kissed you.

He left you to float around in peace while he chilled on the beach. You leaned back again and stared at the pristine and clear sky, thinking about everything and nothing at the same time. Jeno’s words once again infiltrated your mind. You were in some weird in between limbo with your feelings. You didn’t even know why you bought the necklaces earlier.

You let a particularly large wave take you under before resting your thoughts and getting out the water. You wrapped yourself in a spare towel and laid down on another one next to Jaehyun.

“How’s Hyunjin?” You asked.

“She conned Johnny into taking her to the ice rink, so she's living her best life.” He laughed.

You tried not to, but you ended up, taking a nap. The ghost feeling of the waves pulling you into the realm of unconsciousness.

You woke up again to Jaehyun lightly shaking you. You turned to him and he pointed forward. Sitting up you looked forward and watched the sun descend below the horizon. It created a wide line of orange that contrasted beautifully with the blue and purple hue over it. You stared in awe at it before turning back to Jaehyun. He was looking at you with the same look from the garden, but there wasn’t a Hyunjin to interrupt. The overwhelming feeling of shyness made its way through you again at the sincerity of his eyes and it was hard to look away.

Jaehyun was the first to break away.

“We should go and get you properly dried before it gets too cold.” It took you a second to leave the trance and you scrambled to collect yourself and helped him take everything inside.

You were again pushed out the kitchen and was told to shower, relax, and wait for dinner. After your bath you sat on the bed instead of venturing downstairs. You held both necklaces in your hands. You wanted to give him his half, but you didn’t know how too; you didn’t even know how to bring up a conversation to led to the necklaces. You flopped back on the bed and screamed into a pillow.

“Dinner’s ready.” He yelled from downstairs.

“Be down in a sec” You called back. Sucking it up, you clipped on your half and went down. You smiled at him as you walked onto the terrace.

Dinner was similar to the day before, but it was a lobster dish. You tried to engage in conversation, but your anxiety prevented you from doing so. You were too busy biting your bottom lip to notice the full moon, the stars that shined brighter than yesterday, and Jaehyun’s hand holding yours.

“Are you okay?” He asked. You glanced up at his worried expression and your heart stopped wavering.

You nodded and looked up at the moon for the first time that night, finding clarity in its presence.

“Whenever things were shitty growing up I would always wander to this playground near my house and lay down on the slide and stare at the moon. It was weird, but I found it comforting. One of the defining moments of my friendship was when I was given the nickname moon. I was glad that I was their source of comfort the way they were for me. And this is a roundabout way to tell you that you’ve become my source of comfort and I wanted to thank you for that.” You went into your pocket and pulled out the other necklace. “I know its lame, but I got this for you.” You gently flipped his hand and placed it in.

Jaehyun slowly held it up and glanced at yours. He was silent for a moment before breaking out a laugh.

“How do you do this every time? How do you keep surprising me with how amazing you are?” He smiled and you released a breath you didn’t know you were holding.

He clipped on the necklace and smiled down at it. He took your hand in his again and the look was back in his eyes. There was a pause.

“I love you.” He declared simply without any hint of doubt.

“I know.” You replied back breathlessly because you did. He was very transparent with his feelings, but that didn’t mean it lost it sincerity and severity. Hearing him actually say it to you made your heart jump and flutter.

His face fell and your heart jumped in panic. “Johnny’s little almost slip up gave you away.” You continued.

You held his hand tighter and looked him in the eyes. “Jaehyun I have to be honest. I don’t know if I love you yet. This is my first real relationship and what I feel for you might be love, but I can’t be certain, and you deserve more than a maybe.” You finished quietly.

Jaehyun had a small look of disappointment, but nevertheless smiled “Take your time.”

“I'm really sorry.” You whispered sadly, feeling bad.

Jaehyun got up and walked over to you. He gently grabbed your face and kissed you. “Don’t be. I love you, so take your time Y/n. I promise I'm not going anywhere.”

412 notes · View notes

sugaslick · 4 years

Text

rules | m

pairing: taehyung x reader

genre/warnings: prep school!AU, smut, degradation, mirror sex, knife warning, mentions of smoking, basically tae’s kind of a dick so bare with me

words: 2,982

summary: You return to your dorm to find Taehyung, your brother school’s wealthiest bastard. Unfortunately for him, you don’t like following the doctrine he preaches.

a/n: Hey everyone! I just graduated from class of 2020: quarantine edition so I’m starting to write again bc I have so much time...If you have any prompts for drabbles or scenarios send them my way bc I need ideas and I love doing personal calls ;) hope you enjoy I’ve been writing this in between ft calls with my bf lmao sorry babe if he only knew...also if u like this pls lmk so I can ruin y’alls rosy filter fr lmao

Tick, tick, tick.

The sound of the analog clock leads a symphony of your classmates’ pencils scribbling across their unfinished test papers, your hands folded neatly across your pristine work. You always finish tests early because you’re the straight A student, the teacher’s pet, the good girl - you strive for perfection and nothing less. You look to your left, peering at your classmate who’s perspiring so heavily that his shirt is beginning to stain. Poor soul, you ponder, poking your tongue between your lips and tasting success and strawberry lip balm.

You know what those stockings do to me, babygirl.

The taste makes you think of him. You know he likes it. He moans into your mouth when you wear it, licking at your bottom lip like it’s the tip of an ice cream cone.

You smell divine, my pet. I wish I could bottle you up and spray your scent on my pillow. It drives me insane.

You bring your wrist to your nose, breathing in deeply. Hints of citrus, geranium and blood orange coating your nostrils. You hold back a smile, folding your hands on your desk once more. You can almost feel his rough hands grazing the back of your thighs, fingers moving up your pleated skirt until they’re firmly gripping your ass. He’s rough, he’s vain, and he’s a bastard, but you like that. You need that. You need him. You can feel the wet seeping into your lacy white panties, crossing your legs uncomfortably to prevent it from moving further down your thighs.

Come on kitten, let me taste you. I’m hungry. I’m famished. I haven’t eaten for days. Come here.

Taehyung. Saying his name aloud is a sin against God. He’s the devil that meets naughty schoolgirls and ruins them at crossroads. You know the Ten Commandments by heart, and he has broken every single one of them. If the sisters knew what you two have done in closets, in the library, in your shared dorm room, they would expel you without thought. But you have, and you will continue doing so. He burns through your veins and evaporates your blood. His Commandments are Harder, Faster, and More. He exorcises you, he brings out the worst in you, he lives inside you.

Don’t keep me waiting, little girl. You know I don’t possess virtue or patience.

He is the deadly sin. Lust for your lips, your neck, your breasts, and your heat. He is a Glutton for your body; grabbing, kneading, pulling, scratching, and begging like a predator toying with its meal. He is Envious when others look at you, his glare daggers as his hand reaches down to your ass to claim what’s rightfully his. But it’s not, not really. He isn’t your boyfriend, and you aren’t his girlfriend. But you belong to him, without hesitation.

Do you see the way he’s looking at you? I’ll kill him. I will. I’ll make sure he never walks these halls again.

He scares you. He plays on your fears, your weaknesses, and turns them into desire. Sex is an amalgamation of your dreams and your nightmares, and he is the slumber that delivers both.

Riiiiiiing.

You stand almost instantly, swiping your test off of your desk and gracefully placing it on Mr. Jamison’s. You can’t think. You can barely breath. You just need to make it to your dorm and everything will be okay. You need release. You need Taehyung to rip off your panties and fuck you in your uniform.

Do I sense some eagerness, Y/N? Do you really want me that badly? Oh, this will be fun.

Fuck off. Even when he’s not around he teases you, playing mind games while simultaneously inducing a tingling sensation between your legs. You turn corners, bumping into classmates and teachers without sparing a glance behind you. You can feel a dampness at the nape of your neck, his favourite place to kiss you. He’s both the king and the joker, dominating you but taking his sweet time to do so. You trip up the stairs, breathing heavily as you enter the girl’s dormitory wing. The bulletin for the Spring Formal plasters the walls, pink and yellow leaflets papering the white brick with their propaganda. You pass cliques of girls socializing in the halls, twirling their hair, checking their phones, reapplying sticky clear gloss to their puckered lips.

Open your mouth. That’s it. Just like that. You know what to do.

You crash through the door of room 308, turning on your heel to slam the door shut behind you.

You exhale. Relief.

“Hello, love.” His voice. Just like that, you disintegrate. You feel your pulse quicken, you feel your legs quiver, you feel the wet drip lower, and lower, and lower. He’s here. “I missed you.”

Taehyung. Forest Ridge Private School’s most eligible bachelor. Captain of the lacrosse team, the moot trial club, and volunteers at the local orphanage on weekends. But you know better. He’s a liar, a cheat, and a bastard. His father owns several yachts, his mother a platinum member at a 5-star country club. He’s a brat, getting everything he wants without ever lifting a finger. What everyone fails to notice are the little things. He drives his slate grey Challenger a bit too fast. He says he’s quitting smoking, but shows up smelling like cigarettes every time you see him. He carries a switchblade that he swears is only for show, but flicks it open with an innate gesture that only develops from constant use. His left incisor is sharp, sharper than normal, as if he used his knife to grind it into a point. The only thing preppy about him is the uniform beret he always wears, tipped ever so slightly to rest askew atop his unruly black hair - like he is right now standing behind you. You turn, slowly, cautiously, as if preventing a gruesome attack from a lion just waiting to pounce.

“You’ve made me wait an awful long time for you. You know I don’t like tardiness.”

“Oh shut up, Tae. I was taking a test. It’s not like I could just walk out.” You finally meet his gaze. He’s angry, one hand holding his switchblade while the other gently caresses its blunt edge. You know he won’t use it, he just likes to scare you. To make you sweat. It’s his version of foreplay. Fear is like precum to him. “Besides, I like making you wait. It’s thrilling.” You utter, allowing the ghost of a smile to bloom on your lips. He takes a step towards you, then two more, until he’s close enough to smell your perfume. Close enough to place a gentle kiss on your forehead. Close enough to whisper sweet nothings into your ear. But he doesn’t, does he?

“Thrilling?” He sneers, running his tongue over the sharper of the two incisors as his free hand moves slowly up your body. His movements are always precise and deliberate, as if he thinks before he acts. He’s calculated. He’s sure of himself. And he’s sure he can make a mess out of you. “I believe the word you’re looking for is dangerous. You shouldn’t fuck with me, kitten. I don’t play nice. I thought you knew that?”

“And what if I did,” you retort, bracing for impact, “what then?” Your waist, your breast, your collarbone; all of them greeted momentarily by his touch until he arrives at his destination. His fingers wrap around your throat, his thumb applying just the right amount of pressure to your jugular. God, you want him. You want him so bad as his hand shifts to tip your chin up, his thumb slipping into your mouth urging you to bite down. You look up at him, a quick breath escaping his nose as if he were laughing at you.

“Well, I have rules. Rules that were made to be followed. Rule #1, no tardiness, which you have already broken. Strike.” You feel the blunt edge of his blade caress your inner thigh. “Rule #2, no panties. Let’s see, shall we?” He lifts your skirt with the blade before you can slap his hand away, his head tipping back before rolling forward in exasperation. “Tsk, tsk, tsk. They’re very cute, I’ll give you that, but this is unacceptable.” He grabs the waistline of the lacy white fabric, ignoring your protests as he slices down the middle of your panties. You swear he sharpens it daily, because it cuts through your underwear as if they were a piece of flimsy parchment. They fall to the floor, your inhibitions falling with them. “Now that’s better, don’t you think?” He taunts, letting your skirt fall back in place.

“You’re such an asshole,” you mumble, audibly hearing your voice waiver. He is carnivorous. He caught your scent. He knows you’re afraid. He pounces. He reaches behind your head to place his knife on your dresser, drawing his hand back slowly before resting it on your waist. Leaning forward, he draws a line of saliva up your jawbone, stopping to nip at your earlobe.

“You love it, slut. Now, what’s Rule #3? You should know it by now. I’ve only repeated it a hundred times.” He chimes, moving his hand up your torso to cup your left breast, massaging it gently with interjected pinches of your nipple. He loves to tease. Making you squirm is his guilty pleasure. You feel your throat tighten, the urge to release a moan unbearable. You can’t help but rub your thighs together, resulting in the friction you need to stay sane. He notices your movements, moving away from your ear to reveal his snide grin from ear to ear. Before you can even comprehend his movements, Taehyung sticks his middle finger into your heat, curling it as if he were beckoning someone forward. “This is what you wanted, yes? My fingers in your cunt?” You nod. You hate yourself for it. You were eager for this, for him. He pulls his finger out abruptly, lifting it to his mouth to taste you. His eyes close, savouring your wetness in his dirty mouth. When his eyes open he’s different. He’s ravenous. His jaw clenches, his tongue poking out between his lips to devour what’s left of you. “Do not make me say it again, Y/N. What’s Rule #3?”

“Beg for it.” You mutter softly, refusing to meet his eyes. You weren’t shy, not even in the slightest, but you know him. You know this boy stood in front of you. He loves control, and you’re more than willing to give it to him.

“Sorry? I missed that.” He lilts, putting his index finger to his ear to indicate his excessive behaviour.

You take a deep breath before exhaling slowly, moving towards him as you keep your promise to him about not breaking any more rules. “Taehyung, I want you to fuck me so hard the entire hall can hear us. I want them to know that Kim Taehyung is in here fucking my brains out. The athlete, the bad boy, the prep, and the sadist. Oh boy, oh boy. Now get over here, you prick.”

“Y/N, this is why you’re my favourite. You beg with such vigor, such enthusiasm. This is why you get special treatment.”

“Oh grow u-.” You can’t even finish speaking before his hands and mouth attack you from all angles. He kisses you, but you wouldn’t even classify what his mouth was doing as a kiss. His tongue darted in and out of your mouth like a snake, his right hand constricting your wrists above your head as if you were his prisoner. His other hand does not waste any time finding the space between your legs, two fingers pumping into you with composed movements. You could feel yourself unraveling at his touch. Your legs quiver, your lips are raw, your eyes shut so tight in fear of what might be standing before you. Then nothing. His lips and hands are gone from your body. Your eyes remain closed but you can feel his presence, his energy. It cuts through the room like a dagger, the ghost of his switchblade on your thigh. Your eyes flicker open, and he is no longer standing in front of you. Confusion floods your expression as you turn your head in both directions, wondering if what you felt was just another realistic dream. His knife. You turn around, and there it is still resting on your dresser.

“Did you forget Rule #4 already?” You freeze. You cannot move. It’s over. He’s got you. “It’s not over until I say it’s over.”

His hand grips a handful of your hair and pushes you towards the bed, your thighs hitting its edge causing you to double over. He spreads your thighs with his knee, still clad in his dry cleaned slacks. You hear the sound of his belt coming undone, his pants falling to the floor in one swift movement. A high-pitched moan escapes your depths as Taehyung teases your entrance with his cock, moving up and down your soaking wet folds with absolutely no haste. He enjoys this. Thrives off of it.

“I won’t fuck you without your full consent. I’m a gentleman, you know. I have a reputation to uphold.” You can’t take this anymore. You can’t take his attitude. You flip over so you’re on your back, staring up at his shocked expression. You position his cock at your entrance, crossing your heels behind your back before pulling him into you. “J-jesus.” He didn’t even have the mental capacity to retort, but his body didn’t waiver in the slightest. Sex is the only language he can speak fluently. He picks you up by your ass and moves you further up the bed, rolling his body into you like an angry wave. “I appreciate your eagerness, kitten. But don’t you ever do that again, do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, dad.” This is how you two work. He chirps, you chirp back. He comments, you respond.

“Oh, you really shouldn’t have said that.” He picks up speed, his cock drilling into you, the sounds of skin on skin filling the room with vulgarity. “Your pussy is mine, you hear me? I own you. You worship me. I am your god.”

And you believe him. Your eyes roll back in your head. You feel the build up. Your toes curl and your fingers clutch the sheets. You are so close to release you can feel it in your gut...and then nothing. He is infuriating. Your body is covered in flames and then extinguished in the blink of an eye.

“Tae,” you groan, his amusement quite clear on his tender red lips, “not fair.”

“You know what isn’t fair? The way you look right now. I wish you could see yourself. Your pussy is so fucking wet you’re practically pouring out onto the bed. Your hair is a mess, my teeth marks are beginning to take colour, and your eyes…” He trails off, almost as if in a trance. His disappearance led to the abandonment of his shirt and beret, both lying on the floor at the end of the bed. Black tousled hair covered his brows, the strands unruly from the tight grip of your fingers. He is like a dark angel, but you know this boy is no angel. “I have an idea.”

He picks you up, throwing you over his broad shoulder this time, and drops you in front of your full-body mirror.

“Strip.” You had no reason to disobey, dropping your uniform skirt and removing your blouse and bra. His eyes wandered, up and down your figure they went. He stares, ingesting you with his hungry eyes. They are almost black. “Now, you can see yourself. See how good you look after I fuck you.” His long fingers brush through your knotty waves as he speaks, contemplating his next move. “Do you want to cum?” You are taken aback by his bluntness, but you nod nonetheless. “How bad do you want me?” Your clit throbs with every word he whispers into your ear.

“God, you have no idea.”

“You had me at God.” And with that, he was on his knees in front of you, your body still facing the mirror. You watch your face as it simultaneously contorts with the presence of his tongue licking up your folds. He inserts one, two, three fingers into your prepped heat. The pressure of his tongue and fingers is almost unbearable, the overstimulation making it difficult for your body to stay upright. He does not let you fall. Every time your legs buckle, his hands grip your ass as he forces himself further into your dripping pussy. As he sucks at your pulsating clit, his fingers pump in and out of you with relentless urgency, never breaking eye contact. The intensity of his gaze is jarring, never looking away while he tastes you. You are so close to climax, the euphoria making you completely unaware of when Taehyung began pumping his cock with his other hand. He moaned into your pussy, the vibrations of his voice sending you over the edge. He sees this. Processes it. He rises before you cum to place his hand over your mouth as you scream in ecstasy. He is backing you up towards the bed, laying you down before he ejaculates all over your stomach and breasts. You ride your highs together. You feel him lay beside you, his head tipping to the side to kiss your bare shoulder.

“Alright, time to get you cleaned up.” He launches himself from the bed, heading towards your private bathroom. “We’re ordering takeout, right?”

“I’m already dialing!” You respond, reaching into the pocket of his crumpled pants to retrieve his chocolate brown Hermes wallet.

Sucker.

#taehyung smut #bts smut #bts fanfic #taehyung fanfic

4 notes · View notes

sugar-petals · 6 years

Text

Mango, My Love || HyunA ❖ E’Dawn

❲ Surround me, body and soul ❳

Pairing: Dom!Hyuna x Sub!E’Dawn

Summary: Hyuna spends a day in bed with her tender boyfriend Hyojong.

Genre: Fluff

Song: Hypnotized — Years & Years

Word Count: 1.2k

Warnings: None, just a bit of teasing and kissing

A/N: Oh, love is beautiful. As promised. I wanted to write about these two so bad. Edits from here, here.

“The chin! Oh, please. It’s not quite how I imagined it to look like.” “Try again, I don’t mind staying still.” “Um. It could be the angle. Let’s see. Okay.”

Hyuna turns her drawing pad to the side to peer at it from the opposite side. As a matter of fact, she realizes, the chin is a bit too slanted.

She goes on guiding her pen in rough strokes until a new outline emerges. The paper is coarse enough to make it look a bit scraggly but picks up the graphite with less residue than before —perfect pressure. That goes on for a couple of minutes, only interrupted by the occasional chirping of birds outside. Other than that, the bedroom remains silent.

It’s when she starts moving around the eraser that Hyojung breaks his freeze a bit.

“Noona. You don’t have to work so hard. It’s just a portrait!”

But Hyuna keeps on erasing. She takes another pencil to soften the edges, then goes back and forth between staring at the pad and Hyojong again. The portrait starts to look a lot more shapely by now, but Hyuna still doesn’t appear satisfied.

“You see,” she mumbles, “I want something nice to hang up in our new flat.”

He cocks his head to the side at that. The bed frame creaks.

“Oh really, that’s what it’s for?” “Hey, don’t move around!” “Ah! Sorry, jagiya!” “I feel like the eyes could use some more shadowing, wait a second. Here. Right here.”

Now, Hyojong doesn’t dare to blink. Drawing eyes, he knows, is always way too difficult. The birds are ever so lively in the garden.

Hyuna shoves the duvet to the side to crawl into the corner where he is perched with a ridiculously large bowl of sliced mangos. After inspecting him from all sides and moving the lamp around on the bedstand, she emits a quick ‘Oh!’ and fetches a third pencil from the little case in her lap. It’s covered in flakes from the eraser, but she is too fixated on his eyes to care. Hyojong does remain stiff until Hyuna quits over the lashes, casting aside the case and pad looking more than crestfallen.

“Why, why!” “Our flat can have a normal wallpaper, too, if you like that,” Hyojong picks up a few pencils that have scattered on the bed, and places them next to the lamp. “You can pick your favorite picture and we send this to a good copy shop downtown.” “But I want you,” Hyuna sighs, getting some rubber flakes off her jeans. “Maybe I should start a second sketch. With colored pens. I like these more. It might take longer.” “Are you sure I won’t fossilize if you do that?”

Hyojong dips into the mango bowl with an alleviated smile, then stuffs his mouth with what appears to be a whole palm. He munches with huge cheeks, making Hyuna cackle.

“Kudm e mfo hawf m aw!” “Sorry, what?” “Couldn’t eat these,” he swallows. “For half an hour!” “Oh— I got, uh, really carried away. I’m sorry.” “It’s ok. You are more important than mangos, I know that eyes are a hassle. You’ll ace the lashes next time. With colored pens. Want some?”

He tilts his bowl into her direction.

“Just one to try.”

Hyojong picks up a particularly clean-cut chunk and maneuvers it between Hyuna’s teeth.

“It’s sweet!” she blinks and picks up a second one herself. “But seriously, your lashes are distracting. It’s so hard to draw.” “Distracting, how come!” “I don’t know. They’re even prettier than mine. I mean look, they’re super long.”

Hyuna picks up the drawing pad again to show him but realizes too late that her fingers, smudgy with mango juice, leave a heavy stain on the sketch.

“Shit!” she chucks it out of the bed. “I’m too stupid!”

The abject drawing tumbles to the floor under Hyojong’s frustrated wails. Hyuna, red from anger, rolls herself into the duvet up to the eyebrows and collapses next to him.

“Two hours of work!” “Hey, my Noona is fiery today,” he ruffles her hair, peeling off the duvet ever so slightly. His own fingers leave stains there, but he doesn’t really mind it. Hyuna only emerges when he tickles her behind the ears, eliciting an arch of the brows, then a smile, finally.

“Ah, I’m not good at this,” she sighs into his chest. “What can I do.” “At least getting cleaned up.” “Don’t wanna... the kitchen is too far. Today’s our lazy day, I even told mom not to bombard us with texts.” “Didn’t say you can’t do it right here.” “Huh?”

And Hyojong takes her hand.

“Like this,” he hums and licks each finger, one by one. Hyuna realizes what he meant. “Getting saucy there!” she giggles and dips into the mango bowl right after. “Guess who has to do it again?”

Her gaze, now, with a bit of provocation. Hyojong smiles gently to himself, the way he always does.

“A little mischief can’t be wrong,” he shrugs and lets his tongue twirl around her digits just as before. The drawing in the corner can almost be heard sulking. It must be so jealous. “You forgot something, here. I’m messy,” Hyuna points at her face.

He makes his way to Hyuna’s cheek with puckered lips but is stopped by a disgruntled mumble a few inches short.

“Hm?” he slants his head, bangs falling into his eyes. “What’s wrong?” “More to the middle. I don’t eat mango with my cheeks.” “I thought you do, they’re juicy! None of your fans would disagree, would they?” “Dawn-ah! Stop, you tease!” “Okay, okay.” “Try again,” she imitates his voice. “Don’t mind staying still. The longer, the better.”

He starts anew and finally, their lips meet. So soft. So warm. She intertwines her hands with his hair. It’s like drawing him with her hands, just a different way. It takes a minute until he pops off, eventually, not as breathless as he thought. He gets better at pleasing her. Hyuna gets a little hiccup right after, prompting more confusion from him.

“Am I, am I messy myself?” “How much mango did you have, I just kissed an entire tropical island!” “Oh, um,” he rubs his neck, “I had mango shake for breakfast. That juice to go with lunch. Mango flavored chewing gum in the afternoon, and just now—” “Did mom recommend you that diet?” “I invented it myself, I think. I didn’t even notice until you asked me.” “What a kid.” “You don’t like tropical islands?” “Sure do, just gives me a hiccup. When will you eat chocolate again? I thought that’s your favorite snack!” “You like that taste the most on me?” “Of course, the nougat one. That’s my favorite.” “I’ll buy it next time when I fetch the groceries.”

He realizes that maybe, maybe, he has to cut down on the mango. Chewing gum and juice, that is too much. If he even forgets about the chocolate, things are bad. Posing for so long to have Hyuna draw him must’ve twisted some things around in his mind. Could it be that she is so sweet? He’ll never know. When he looks at her, his heart has already been hypnotized.

“Hyojong, are you dreaming?”

Her voice anchors him back to reality with the birds, the gentle ruffling of the duvet around her hips. She’s busy scrolling through something on her phone.

“Oh!”

Maybe he is dreaming.

“You know. As for buying, I had an idea. There must be an easier way.” ”With the chocolate?” “No I mean, can we print out one of your selcas, too? For the wallpaper.” “Yes for sure, Hyun Da Vinci.” “My cutie babe.”

Masterlist

#hyundawn fluff #hyuna x edawn #hyundawn #hyundawn scenario #hyuna #edawn #hyojong #triple h #hyundawn imagine #triple h scenario #triple h fluff #triple h imagine #triple h fanfic #hyundawn fanfic

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we-killed-parker · 6 years

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Things you said while I cried in your arms, Steven/Cib? (You don't have to if you don't want to! Love your writing!)

Hey, this is a LOT longer than I intended it to be, but I hope the 2,350-ish word build up for a 22 word sentence works for you. Also hope you’re ok with GTA au, cause that’s what you’re getting! My first time writing it, so hope there isn’t anything too awful. I feel kinda bad cause everyone else doing this is popping out 2-3 paragraphs worth for each prompt, but apparently I can’t do things in moderation/without some sort of context, but I should know that already because of who I am as a person. Anyways, thank you so much for the prompt!

Warning for blood and language I guess.

On Ao3

~~~

Steven had already had a horrible feeling about this recon mission before James and Cib had even headed out and now an hour after they should’ve been back he felt like he was on the verge of an anxiety attack, waiting for any word. He paced back and forth behind Autumn as she flipped through the different traffic cams she had access to. Unfortunately there were some dead spots in the map of the city that they hadn’t yet been able to hack into and they had lost Cib’s car somewhere in there. Their setup was new and Autumn claimed she couldn’t get into everything all at the same time or she would be easier to detect, and so they’d sent Cib and James to check out a couple of the so called ‘dead zones’, two of which they were currently uncertain of which gang was in control of. He had already put Jeremy and Parker on high alert when the guys were twenty minutes late getting back.

Stevens shoes squeaked on the linoleum floor as he spun on his heel and took three large steps across the room and repeated. Autumn glanced up at him in annoyance and put her half off headphones back into their proper position.

He checked his phone for the millionth time, waiting for any sort of notification. He hadn’t set it down in over an hour, the case well and truly warmed by his hand at that point. Same as before, nothing.

Autumn huffed as his shoes squeaked again. “Will you stop-”

Stevens text notification went off and both of them jumped at the sound. Autumn pulled off her headphones and craned her neck to see the phone as Steven unlocked it. It was a single word text message from James with his GPS marker attached.

Help.

~~~~~

Ten minutes later Steven was racing through the streets heading for the outskirts of the city, a pile of weapons on the back seat next to Jeremy and Parker navigating from the passenger seat. The GPS marker was out in the mountains, along the road running through Raton Canyon. How they had wound up that far out of town Steven had no idea. The atmosphere in the truck was tense, everyone silent asides from Parker directing him when to turn.

He’d tried calling James several times, but it rang through to the answering machine every time. Cib’s phone didn’t even ring, going straight to his voice recording.

“Slow down, it says he’s just around the corner.” Parker said.

Steven did as he was told and eased the truck around the corner, coming to a stop when Cib’s destroyed car came into view. It lay on its roof in the middle of the narrow road, it’s nose pointed uphill and the drivers side door hanging open towards them.

Steven and Parker both swore under their breath, all three men vacating the truck with their guns drawn. Steven went straight for the open car door as Parker and Jeremy fanned out, Jeremy going to the edge of the road where it dropped away into a steep slope towards the river and Parker going around the front of the car to the other side.

Stevens could feel his heart pounding as he scrambled into the car, broken glass pricking at his fingers. It was empty, no bodies, which could’ve been a relief asides from the fact he still had no clue where they were. There was blood though, and not just a little. The passenger seat was stained with it and the steering wheel smeared red. Just as he was about to crawl backwards out of the car he spotted Cib’s phone in the pile of blood splattered glass, the screen smashed to bits. Well that explains the lack of ringing.

Parker joined him by the door as he stood up. “Have you tried James phone again?”

“No, but the GPS says he’s right here,” he pointed to where Jeremy stood on the edge of the road, looking down at the few trees between them and the river. His stomach twisted as the thought of either of them winding up in the river crossed his mind. He fought the thought back and hit redial, listening for the first couple rings.

“I hear something!” Jeremy hollered at them, starting to slide down the hill, catching himself on one of the sparse pine trees ten feet below them. The next one over had branches low to the ground, completely hiding anything within four feet of its base, which Jeremy was now peering at.

“He’s here!” Jeremy called out, disappearing under the branches. Steven didn’t even hesitate, tucking his gun into his waistband and skidding down the slope on his heels before catching himself on the trunk and pushing the branches out of the way from where he saw Jeremy disappear. His heart stopped as he found Jeremy crouched over an unconscious James, already trying to apply pressure to his bleeding shoulder. Jeremy turned to Steven. “We need to get him out of here. Help me get him on my shoulder.”

Working together they managed to fight through the tree and get James onto Jeremy’s shoulder and Jeremy started climbing the hill again, Parker ready to grab onto him when he got into range and Steven supporting him from behind. Halfway up James came back to consciousness and immediately started fighting.

“Put me down, you fucker!” He yelled, reaching up with one arm to wrap his hand around Jeremy’s face and pummeling his lower back with the other. Jeremy grunted, nearly slipping but stubbornly keeping an iron grip on James’ flailing legs.

“James! James, stop!” Steven grabbed for his arms, but Jeremy slipped, sending them both toppling forward. James landed hard on his back, the impact and Jeremy’s shoulder landing on his torso knocking the breath out of him. Parker managed to grab him under his arms and drag him the rest of the way up and onto the road.

James finally drew in a breath and immediately started coughing, his face screwed up in pain. Steven clambered up the last bit of the hill and to James’ side, taking the rag Jeremy handed to him and pressed it into the apparent bullet wound through his shoulder. The pain was enough to make James take another hacking breath and his eyes flew open. “Steven!”

“Yeah, James, it’s me, you’re ok, we’re going to get you out of here.” James lifted his head and saw Parker helping Jeremy back to his feet and kept searching around the area.

He looked back at Steven and asked, “Where’s Cib? Is he ok?”

Steven’s heart sank. If James didn’t know where Cib was, they were screwed. “We haven’t found him yet, what the hell happened?”

James clenched his eyes shut and groaned. “It was the Fakes, man, we were in the FAHC’s area and they saw us. One of them got a hit on me before Cib could get us out of there and the Vagabond chased us all the way out here. We almost lost him, but one of their helicopters caught up. We flipped and I think Cib hit his head and wouldn’t wake up, but I could hear the helicopter coming back and the Vagabond was coming, so I crawled down the hill. They mustn’t have seen me move.”

“Shit.” Steven looked up at Jeremy, who already had his phone out, his thumbs flying across the keyboard as he alerted his network of contacts to keep their eyes open for any of the Fakes with a hostage. “We need to get out of here, get back to the Office.”

Parker nodded enthusiastically as he moved to help him lift James to his feet. James groaned and leaned heavily on Parker, putting his hand up to hold the rag on the wound himself as they walked past the destroyed car to Steven’s truck.

The drive back was just as quiet and tense as the trip out, except for Jeremy’s nearly continuous conversations on the phone. Steven kept looking in his rear view mirror, checking on James. He had passed out leaning against Parker’s chest, who had taken over applying pressure and had found a wad of gauze to hold to the wound on the back of James’ shoulder.

An hour later James was sleeping on the couch against the window with Mimi tending to his wounds while Steven returned to his pacing behind Autumn’s chair, much to her annoyance, and occasionally going to the back room to check in with Parker and Jeremy, who was equally annoyed by his hovering. Parker was more understanding and tried to at least be gentle while informing him they had nothing for him yet.

It continued like that for the next few hours, until James awoke late in the evening and finally managed to get Steven to stop moving for a moment and sit down on the couch. He somehow managed to keep him there long enough for Steven to fall into a fitful sleep, leaving the rest of the office to do their jobs without a living, breathing ball of anxiety sitting on their shoulders.

Autumn stretched in her seat, yawning loudly, as she looked over her shoulder at James, Steven asleep with his head on James’ lap. The shoulder of his t-shirt had been cut open and he looked exhausted, but he still broke out into a smile when he saw her looking at him.

“You look like shit, bro.”

“Thanks!”

She smiled at the goofy grin he was giving her. “I’m glad you’re okay.”“Me too.” His face turned serious as he looked down at Steven. “But I don’t think any of us are going to be okay if we don’t find Cib.”

~~~~~

It was nearly twenty four hours after they’d retrieved James that Parker and Jeremy were able to charge into the main office and present the group with some good news.

“We got him, one of our contacts just spotted a Fake Crew vehicle leaving the docks. Apparently they left a note with our name on it on a sea can.” Parker looked like he was nearly vibrating with excitement, grinning from ear to ear.

“And what’s the likelihood that’s a trap?” James asked the room in general.

“Definitely.” Steven muttered, rubbing his hands across his knees. He was shaking so bad, finally getting a lead was such a relief, but god, they couldn’t just walk down there and open the container up. What if it was booby trapped, set to blow when they opened the door? “You happen to have a bomb team in that network of contacts?”

“Sorta. He can meet us there though.” Jeremy said.

“He? Singular?”

“He’s good enough he doesn’t need a team.”

~~~~~

And so Steven, Parker, Jeremy, and James, despite Mimi’s protests about his arm, arrived at the docks, almost immediately finding the sea can meant for them thanks to the comically large green and black gift wrapping bow slapped on the front of it. A guy Steven and James didn’t recognize was slowly circling it, waving a small box in his hand along every seam he could find.

“Andrew! What’s the word, buddy?” Parker called as they all exited the truck.

The guy, Andrew, turned to them, squinting in the sunlight despite the ball cap turned backwards on his head. The brim is literally designed to protect your eyes, who the hell thinks they look so cool with their hat backwards that they squint at the sun, Steven thought to himself, his tiredness and missing his friend turning to irritation. He kept his mouth shut though, they needed this guy.

“I can’t find anything, seems to be clean. Pulled this off for you though,” he held out a folded piece of paper with a strip of tape on it out and Steven immediately snatched it out of his hand. His hands shook as he opened it.

We know you’ve been looking for him, and he’s useless to us, so you can have him back. Of course we didn’t kill him, we’re not barbarians. Who are we, Fake Chop?

“Can you open it?” Steve hated the way his voice broke over those four words.

“Yeah, of course.” Andrew pulled off the huge bow and unlatched the two handles on the first door, not noticing as the other four men took three steps back before he pulled it open. They all breathed a sigh of relief when nothing happened and then Steven was running for the door.

The afternoon sun lit the interior, one beam in particular highlighting the tall skinny form of Cib slumped on his side against the wall, hands bound by rope in front of him. Any risk of further trip wires and traps were immediately forgotten by Steven and he skidded to his knees next to Cib. He had blood dried to the side of his head, the dark circles around his eyes were even darker than usual and the exposed parts of his arms were mottled with bruises. And that was only what Steven could see, who knew how bad he was under his clothes? Steven felt sick just thinking about it.

He desperately clutched at Cib, pulling him partially upright and hugging him to his chest. The movement startled Cib awake, his eyes going wide and body tensing, bring his bound hands up near his bruised throat as though he were protecting himself.

“Hey hey hey, it’s me, it’s Steven, I got you.”

Relief blossomed across Cibs face and tears immediately flowed as he pressed his face into Stevens shirt. “I didn’t think you were coming for me.”

“What- why wouldn’t I?” Steven was baffled. They’d never really officially defined their relationship before and he did love the dumb bugger, but Cib was always so affectionate to him he had assumed it was a mutual attraction. Obviously now Steven remembered he had the emotional capacity of a teaspoon and was even worse at showing it, mentally kicking himself for not having said anything before.

He put his hand under Cibs chin and angled his head up so he could look into Cibs tear filled eyes. “Of course I’d come for you, Cib. As long as I have life in my body, I will always come for you.”

#Ship Pine 7 #CibXSteven #Fake Pine 7 #my fic #C: Steven Suptic #C: Cib/Clayton James #C: Autumn Farrell #C: James DeAngelis #C: Parker #C: Jeremy Sauder #C: Andrew Sigils #R: Cib/Steven

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swanandapirate · 7 years

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I think I saw that your doing prompts, and if you are, could you maybe do Killian and Emma being in their house after shes just fought Gideon? Make it angsty or fluffy or something like that!

You saw correctly, my little anonymous friend. I was listening to Divide while writing this and then suddely Hearts Don’t Break Around Here started playing and I saw so many similarities with what I had written down, hence the title being one of the lyrics

I feel safe when you’re holding me near

~1700 words

ff.net

His arms curl around her, the force of his body creating a tight pressure on her chest. Although he is nearly crushing her, it feels good. It feels so good to be back, to be able to burrow her nose into his neck, to smell the fragrance that equates to home in her mind. Never had home been a person, it had never even been a place before Storybrooke. This is an uncharted territory. But she’s home now, back with him, with them and she’s is considering chaining herself to their dining room table to prevent her from leaving ever again.

“You are amazing, Emma.”

The words settle into her heart, routing the fear and anger, it doesn’t matter that Gideon nearly won; it doesn’t matter that her victory was on the verge of being a defeat. He thought she was amazing and he loved her.

Hands intertwined, they return home with maundering steps. They are taking their time, but Emma doesn’t want to linger on these empty and dark streets; she wants to return to the warmth of their house, crawl under their sheets and finally relax. Her lips are pressed tightly against one another, her teeth locking them in that position from the inside. If they open, a string of words will come out, faltering and incoherent.

They reach their street and after a few more strides their number. The gray house still stands and it looks the same as it did when she left–was forced out of– Storybrooke. Killian opens the door for her and they both enter. Following their usual routine, he removes his leather jacket and then toes off his shoes, storing them in the rack. Emma mindlessly copies the movements.

“You want to talk about it?” he asks, granting her a choice, telling her it’s hers to make.

The alternate version of him was humorous at first, amusing even, before it dawned on her that that would have been his life. If she hadn’t been the savior and she would have grown up with her parents and in a warm home with an abundance of food and clothes and money and love, then he would’ve become like that. Alone and unkempt. It was too late to change things in this reality, to let the events of the past happen as they did in that wish realm; her parents made their choice a long time ago. And still.

“Yes,” she replies.

Her answer doesn’t continue. It blocks like she does in the middle of their dimmed hallway. Killian tilts his head when she doesn’t move and carefully approaches her. His hands cover her cheeks and he looks down to let his eyes peer into her. They glide across her face, searching for something and eventually settle on her lips.

The focus of his eyes as the only warning, he kisses her and it sends a jolt through her body. As if she found herself in a sleeping curse and his kiss woke her up. She kisses him back and back, her mind and body reacquainting with the feeling of being kissed by Killian Jones. How long was she gone again? A day? Maybe time moves differently in wish realms because it felt like an eternity

Killian is the one to break them apart, ever the reasonable one, and he takes her hand and lightly tugs to beckon her to follow. He leads her to their beloved couch and sits down.

“Tell me.”

“It isn’t really that horrible,” she attempts to back out.

“That doesn’t matter, Emma.” His voice is gentle and full of understanding, the characteristic sound of when he calls her Emma. She hears the words he doesn’t say aloud. You can tell me anything you’d like and I’ll listen. Always.

Somewhere during her report, her version of events, they end up stretched on the couch, Emma positioned between his legs and with her head against his thudding chest. Killian’s hook rests over her abdomen and his hand plays with her hair, curling it around his finger and releasing it again as he listens to her tale.

“August was helping me to find a way to escape and as we were planning to leave we met-” She frowns while thinking of the right way to describe him, that man. “-you.”

“The less spry version of me, if I recall correctly.”

“You could call him that,” she says, a hint of levity in the snort that follows her words. “He was… so different from the person you are.”

She feels Killian’s body tense under her; he straightens his shoulders and his hands still. Worried about the reason of his sudden change of attitude, Emma moves. She sits upright and turns to face him. Scanning his face, she tries to figure out what’s amiss.

“He didn’t hurt you, did he?” Killian asks with furrowed brows, concerned about the actions of his alter ego.

“No, no,” Emma assures him, “Only a lot of words and bravura. We didn’t even spend more than five minutes together. He was harmless really.”

Her hand drifts to the base of his neck, to the strong muscles there; her thumb absentmindedly draws circles on his skin. Every time she stares at that spot for too long, the picture of the wound flashes before her eyes, all bloody and gruesome. That stupid wound made by a stupid little cut in stupid Camelot while she was the stupid Dark One. And all that stupidness accumulated in nearly losing him for the umpteenth time. The emotional turmoil was beginning to take its toll, to claim its achievements.

“Then why were you upset?” The blue of his eyes seeks again, pursuing clarity and enlightenment, but Emma is doubting if she can give him, regardless of how much she wants to.

“I was supposed to be happier in that reality, but it was at the cost of yours.”

Moving out of Killian’s warm embrace, she widens the distance between them and plants her feet on the floor. Instead of looking at him, she stares at her red socks. The weight of her head resting on her palms is surely creating two red shapes in the form of elbows into the pale skin of her upper leg. Her loose hair covers her face, acting as a curtain between the two of them.

“You weren’t happy in that world and I knew you weren’t happy in this world. I was afraid I wouldn’t see you again and that we were separated for good. Only because I couldn’t handle being the savior.”

The shame forces her to close her eyes and hide by turning her hands into shields to shelter her face. The silence in the room certainly does not help to squelch the guilt. She had risked their relationship.

Her sight is still blocked by her closed eyelids and concealing hands but Emma hears Killian shift on the couch and she feels her hair being pushed behind her ear. Finger by finger, he pries her hands loose and takes them into his own.

“Did you want that wish to come true?” he asks and internally her mind immediately screams and shouts no.

Directing her open again eyes to him, she decides to answer earnestly, “I did once. Several times, actually. It’s been a while ago, but even when we were together, I’d sometimes think about it. Now I realize how selfish that was.”

“Love.” Killian shakes his head. “Wanting to have grown up with your parents is not a selfish thing. I understand, I am certain I’ve wished for that same thing a thousand times when I was a lad. As for not being the savior,” he begins, slightly raising his dark eyebrow. “It is a hell of a task, isn’t it? A task filled with pressure and expectations and sacrifice. Any sane person would search for a way out of that.”

She can’t think of a reply, a recurring thing with Killian in her life, and settles for wrapping her arms around him. He kisses the top of her head.

“Emma,” he says in a whispering tone. “I was terrified earlier. You nearly died in that fight and I stood there, paralyzed, forced to watch and not able to do anything. And for the second time, I wished you didn’t need to be the savior. That we’d kept those damned sheers so we could have some kind of alternative.”

An alternative to her visions. An alternative to her dying. A defeating breath escapes and Emma shuts her eyes again, this time because of the tears threatening to leak out.

“It does not make you weak, Emma,” Killian continues as he wipes one tear that did manage to escape away. “You are so strong, far stronger than anyone I know, far stronger than I am, but we all have moments where the strength is difficult to muster.” He shrugs.

In a shuddering breath, Emma fills her lungs until full capacity and as she lets the air go in one whoosh, she makes a decision. She straightens her back and holds her head high. She is the savior. She will remain the savior. And saviors fight.

“You know why I fought that hard earlier?” she asks him but doesn’t give him the time to properly think and answer. “Because I wasn’t going to give up this life, not when I was just reminded how perfect it is. I fought because I love you.” Emma’s lips curl. “You’re it, you know that, right? I wouldn’t want that fairytale life if it meant you and I aren’t together.”

Killian mirrors her expression, the corners of his mouth transform into a proud smile.

“The same goes for me, my love. All that I have gone through was worth it knowing that it led me to you.” His eyes and mouth and hands and every little part of him radiates love.

“We’re doing this together.”

“We are,” Killian agrees.

#excuse my tired self for the mistakes and the shitty writing #cs ff #writing still sucks a lot of the time but it's getting better #captain swan #my words and sentences #cs crew #captain swan fanfiction #Anonymous

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