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woniverse-writes · 8 months

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“Backfired Birthday”

bada lee x reader

summary: trying to surprise bada for her birthday with a cake and decorations, but it goes horribly wrong

word count: 2.2k

warnings: uhm they shower together but it's cute and wholesome, slight angst?? reader lowkey has a breakdown, not proofread

notes: I FINALLY MANAGED TO WRITE A SHORT FIC LET'S FUCKING GOOOOOOO- also, the other Bada birthday fic will be posted later, seeing as it's technically ready to post now, but I wanna add a little more spice to it lol

The week leading up to Bada’s birthday had gone really well- you would even say it was perfect! You had everything set in stone and were determined to give her the best birthday ever, especially since it was the first one you were celebrating as a couple. You two had been friends for the last few years, having met through dance. You were both choreographers and instructors for Just Jerk Academy and got to know each other through another dancer from the studio. When Howl had said he wanted to introduce you two to each other, neither really knew what to expect, you assuming that Bada and him were a thing, and her assuming the same of you and him. So it came as a shock when he set you two up on a date and claimed he was trying to help his girls stop being single. And here you are years later, happier than ever, preparing for your now girlfriend's birthday.

When you woke up that morning, you made sure to get up a little earlier than usual to prepare an extra special breakfast for your lovely girlfriend. it was storming severely outside and it eventually got so bad that the power went out- cutting the line for your toaster, your fridge, your microwave, and your electric stove. You were so disappointed in your failed breakfast that you ended up just going to lay back in bed with Bada, who gladly accepted your warmth as you snuggled your way back into her arms.

The two of you woke up again, together this time, about an hour later. The power had seemed to come back on at some point, although it was still raining pretty hard outside. You ended up making a simple breakfast and ate together quickly before Bada had to head off to the studio for some lessons today. You made sure not to take on any classes in order to prepare all the festivities and gifts for your girlfriend, in order for her to have the most relaxing and satisfying birthday when she got off work.

The first thing you did was head to the store to pick up some ingredients for a cake, as well as look for a nice champagne or wine that would make the evening even more romantic. After getting the basic ingredients, you spent the next 45 minutes stressing over whether you should get champagne or wine, reeling you knew nothing about your girlfriend’s more refined drinking preferences. Eventually, you decided just to skip the alcohol (even though you definitely felt like you needed some right about now) and move on to the checkout.

After the unnecessarily long shopping trip, you made your way to the floral shop to pick up the arrangement you had ordered a week ago. When you arrived, an older lady who seemed to have been working there a long time was working the front register. You went up to her and let her know you were there to pick up an order. She scanned through her system and looked confused briefly before asking if it could be under a different name. After you shook your head, she asked for your phone number and email address to track your receipt, but nothing came up again.

You were beginning to panic until a younger-looking girl walked about from the back and the older lady flagged her down.

“Marcia, do you remember if you took this young lady’s order any time recently?” the older woman asked turning stiffly toward the younger worker, who tensed up and flitted her eyes back and forth between you and her manager.

“Uhm… I think so…” The older woman sighed shortly and asked

“Well did you give her any sort of receipt?” to which the younger girl shook her head and looked like she was about to cry, but to be honest you were too. Things were quickly starting to fall apart and you could feel it. After about 30 minutes of searching, they ended up not being able to find any sort of receipt to show your order was taken, but the younger employee admitted to having taken your order earlier that week and not giving you a receipt, so the older lady, who you assumed to be the shop owner, offered to whip something up for you at a discounted price of what you would've originally paid, to which you accepted, then had to immediately decline after hse told you it would be ready after Bada would've already gotten home.

Leaving the flower shop and heading back home, you tried to focus on the tasks at hand, which were decorating and baking Bada’s birthday cake. As you pulled into the driveway, the rain picked up again, soaking you as you got out of your car and grabbed all the groceries from the back of your trunk. While you were trying to walk as fast as possible, a stray cat ran out from one of the bushes in front of your house, startling you so badly, that you dropped the bag with all the decorations in it, spilling them onto the concrete, causing them to get soaked in the rain and some covered in mud, leaving them unusable. You tried to pick them up and quickly make your way inside to assess the damage and hopefully still be able to use some of the decorations, but you had no luck seeing as they were so damp and stained with dirt that there was barely anything left from what could've been saved anyways.

You let out the biggest sigh ever and threw your head back with a groan. You told yourself it was okay, seeing as you still had about three and a half hours until Bada would be home, and in that time all you had to do was bake a cake, seeing as you had no champagne or decorations to prepare. But that also made you realize you hadn’t gotten her a present or even a card.

In a state of absolute panic, you slipped your shoes on and ran back out to your, starting the engine and swiftly backing out of your driveway. You ran to the nearest store, which happened to be the one you had already visited today for the cake ingredients, and picked up a birthday card. Soon after that, you ran to the mall and spent the next 45 minutes trying to decide between getting Bada a new jersey or a new pair of sneakers. You didn’t feel as if either was enough to showcase how much you loved her, so you just bought both, not even worrying about your bank account at the moment.

Once you made it back home for the second time, you immediately set the oven to pre-heat while you began preparing the batter. You have an hour and a half now before Bada gets home, so it’s crunch time. You still wanted to shower and change into a cute outfit so you’d be all ready for when she got home, but thought that was a bad idea since you were in the middle of baking. The cake batter was coming together nicely until the power suddenly went out again in the middle of you mixing the batter. You let out a mix of a scream and a groan in frustration.

The power suddenly turned back on a few moments later, which you weren’t prepared for- especially since your mixer decided to turn back on as well while didn’t have a grip on it, sending the bowl flying off the counter and batter to splatter everywhere- all over the walls, the counters, and covering you as well. You let out a shocked scream as it happened and immediately reached to unplug the mixer, frozen in shock afterwards.

You felt like such a terrible girlfriend as you stood in the messy kitchen, wondering how you were gonna clean up the chaos and yourself before Bada got home. She had no cake, no decorations, and You couldn’t even get her the proper flowers. Everything just felt like a disaster, and you couldn’t help but tear up as you surveyed the mess around you.

You didn’t even hear the door unlock, only noticing your girlfriend swinging the door open and walking through after she had already closed the door and locked it behind her.

“Hi baby- woah, what’s going on?” the tall girl giggled and smiled lovingly at you from across the kitchen as she took off her hoodie and threw it on the back of one of the chairs. You looked around in a daze and once you made eye contact with her, you felt your lip quiver as you tried to put on a smile.

“Happy birthday my love” is what you tried to say but couldn’t even finish as you burst into tears. You felt pathetic, covered in cake batter, crying in your messy kitchen in front of Bada on her birthday. It made you cry even harder when you became self-aware and felt you were being selfish since your girlfriend probably had a long day and now here you are trying to take the attention away from her on her day.

Bada wasn’t thinking that at all though. She immediately made her way to the other side of the kitchen to wrap you in a hug and kiss your head, ignoring your protests (“You’re gonna get batter all over you-” you cried into her shoulder. “Shhh it’s okay” she shook her head and pulled you closer). You stayed that way for a while until you calmed down for the most part. When you pulled away slightly you looked up at Bada with puffy eyes and a pout, which she smiled enedaringly at and pressed a soft kiss to your lips. You began to tear up again, so disappointed in yourself for not being able to pull off something so simple. But Bada put a stop to it once again immediately.

“Princess- it’s okay” she giggled sweetly, wiping away your tears and caressing your cheek. She tucked a piece of hair behind your ear and began slowly leading you towards the bathroom.

“Why don’t we take a nice shower together, yeah?” the tall girl asked softly, still not letting go of you, making sure to have some sort of physical contact at all times while the two of you made your way around. Neither of you even bothered to grab clean clothes, heading straight for the bathroom. Bada started the shower, holding your hand and softly looking over her shoulder every few seconds to smile at you reassuringly. Once she was satisfied with the water temperature, Bada took her shirt off first, leaving her in a sports bra and cargo pants. then she proceeded to help fully undress you before taking off the rest of her clothes and ushering you both into the shower.

You relaxed slightly under the warm water and closed your eyes, letting the droplets soak your hair and skin, already slightly cleaning you off. Bada reached behind you to grab the shampoo off one of the shelves and squirted some out into the palms of her hands before lathering it in your hair. She stood in front of you, gently tilting your head back as she continued to wash your hair, you standing with your arms wrapped around her waist, eyes still closed, finally feeling at peace for the first time that day.

After taking a little longer than expected due to getting distracted by some innocent shower kisses, you both finished helping each other clean up and hopped out from under the water which had gotten a little colder than what it was before. You playfully dry each other off, giggling and pressing sweet kisses to random areas on each other’s face, neck, and shoulder; you head back to your shared bedroom wrapped up in your fluffy towels. You sleepily pick out some clean clothes to wear, both of you only grabbing an oversized shirt and a clean pair of undergarments to sleep in.

After getting dressed and hanging the towels back up, Bada turns off the bedside lamps, and you both snuggle up under your covers.

“I’m really sorry I couldn’t give you an amazing birthday, and that I cried the second you got home” you apologized, staring up at Bada in the dim light with sad puppy eyes. You could barely make out the loving smile on her face as she pressed a kiss to your forehead, then a couple to your cheeks, and then one to your lips.

“Don’t apologize for anything. I had an amazing birthday, simply because I got to spend even a sliver of it with you…” Bada reassured in a hushed voice, pulling you in closer to intertwin her legs with yours under the covers. She kissed you once again softly on the lips before resting her forehead against yours.

“I love you so much, and any moment I get to spend with you is already such a gift, so thank you, my sweet girl.” her sentiment and sweet words made you tear up again, but you were able to swallow it down this time.

“I love you too. Happy birthday, my love.” and you both fell asleep happily cuddled into each other, with the sound of the rain pouring outside.

permanent taglist: @uwulyn

#bada lee #street woman fighter 2 #bada lee x reader #street woman fighter x reader #bada x reader

357 notes · View notes

bingusbongu · 5 months

Note

Hey can I Request a hc of Luz and friends meeting a Discord reader?

Plot: Luz and friends are wandering the forest until they discovering a statue of the reader. They went up to it to get a closer look but for some reason they all decided to argue on something and Because of that, the statue started to crack setting free the spirit of chaos and disharmony. Some chaotic wacky hijinks happens and now they're pretty good friends and the reader wants to help get them back to the boiling Isles.

Sorry if the plot sucks

♡A/N: RAAAAAAAAA OMGGGGGG i love discord so much he is so silly!!!!! I would absolutely love to write for this!!!! Im assuming this is when they were in the human world when you say 'help get back to the boiling isles, so thats what i did!!!! I also didnt add vee in this one- sorry!!! This ones alittle short, but i had to write for this!!!! Abit ooc!!!! Tysm for requesting!!!!!!♡

Luz, Amity, Gus, Hunter, Willow + GN! Discord reader!

☆ the moment you burst out of your stone prison, you already had spells thrown at you left and right, having startling the group, who completely forgot about their previous argument and now were focused on the new entity

☆ You hardly shown any phase as you flickered your hand and their attacks just flew into the nearby statues of the yard. Before yawning and asking if they were done

☆ of course, the gang did not like you to begin with, not one bit. A weird myrhical... beast infront of them that reflected their magic with a single flick of a wrist. Not onlt that, but you had such insane abilities that put them oj edge... immediately thinking that you're like the collector in disguise

☆ Luz was the first to react to you without hostility. You were a beast with magical power, magic power that she had never seen before. If you were possibly here, then maybe there was a way that you could help them back! She was desprate for anything, and despite her girlfriends protests, she was the first to accept you

☆ she also was very curious and intrigued by you. So you told her what you were, a draconequus. And you tried to answer as many questions as you can that flabbered out of her mouth. But had to let her down when you told her you didnt know a way back, that you had been stuck in stone for such a long time that you couldnt even remember how toy made it to the human world. Despite her sadness, you reasurred her that youd help in any way that you can

☆ Gus was the second. The illusionist already took great wonder to your weird form. It was almost immediately after Luz and you had your conversation, Gus was already up in your grill and interviewing you with Luz. Both of them were fascinated! So you caved in abd showed the both of them some of your abilities

☆ after that, Gus would find ways to wrangle you into certain activites, whether it be games or lil friend pranks! Gus quickly took a liking to you, and the fact that you can cause illusions, but REAL illusions! He definitely tried to ask you to make certain things from his and hunters favorite series

☆ Willow was third. She was weary, but seeing how Gus quickly took quite a liking to you, she let lose some of her concerns. Enough to let Gus drag her over to meet her properly. You were very nice to her, which caught her off gaurd, but she decided you were fine, especially since you didnt try to attack her or gus or anyone else in tjat manner. You and her strike up lovely conversations!

☆ asks you sometimes what plants you can make, and when you shown her you can basically make your own, she was astounded! She taught you how to take care of plants properly without smashing them as soon as you touch it<3

☆ Hunter was the fourth. Especially after dealing with so much trauma, he didnt like you, neither did he like how your power was so similar to the collecters. That any moment you could take apart the world and bend it together in your own reality of play. It was hard get Hunter to fully trust you.

☆ though, seeing how gus and willow took a liking to you and talked to you, Hunter let his gaurd down abit with you. You noticed how he would give you these questioning looks, or feel him watching you. It wasnt until you poofed a wolf puppy into your hands he decided he liked you. You gained his trust stupidly, because you poofed a wolf pup in the room and he got to hold it until you poofed it away. He was over the moon about it!

☆ Amity was the fifth. Out of all of them, she was the hardest to crack. She didnt trust you one bit, she didnt like you. Youd always walk into a room and she would immediate be glaring at you. You really didn't even know how you could get her to trust you. Everything you tried she would brush of her soilder. Your magic set her off edge, and she was destined to protect her friends, aswell as your big and looming appearance

☆ she protested against Luz getting near you, being the protective girlfriend she is. But the way you were kind to the rest of her friends, she softened. Though, she still had a hard time striking a conversion with you, but, the fact you shown no hostility to them, she deemed you.... okay, for now. Until you usr your magic to help them, she woukd accept you as an ally

☆ When you actuallt started helping them find their way back to the boiling isles, you were valuable. Out of the group you had the strongest abilities. Which ment you were probably the biggest hope for them to get home! They depended on you, and instead of uding your magic badly, you did your best to impress your friends and help them in any way you could

#the owl house x reader #the owl house #luz noceda #hunter toh #amity blight #willow toh #gus toh #toh #toh x reader #reader insert #gender neutral reader #discord reader

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dragonmuse · 2 years

Note

For the smutty asks! (Hopefully I beat everyone else to it, lol!)

Can you see Jim and Lucius getting together in any of your verses?

(you win and OMG! What an ask to win, I love it. SO. I have said that in mainverse, Jim and Lucius do like to make out on occasion post-Sing a New Song. Oluwande is always around for these moments. And I do think maybe just the once....YES. Let's say that they do. Everyone take this to as much canon as they would like. Also I got blasted on gin tonight.)

Lucius liked Jim and Oluwande’s apartment. It was all in warm colors, the living room a rich terra cotta shade that made the whole place feel like it might’ve been transplanted from some desert town. They were all a little stoned, Oluwande sprawled out on the bean bag chair that Jim had acquired at some garage sale, looking like a decadent god with his shirt open to his stomach, the rich cream of it setting off the richness of his skin. Jim was on the couch, legs splayed wide, a glass hanging from the fingers of one hand. Lucius was on the other side, sketching in a very loose way, capturing the lines of their body.

“Not even once,” he was saying as he captured the capable spread of Jim’s fingers on the glass.

“Not even a porno or two?” Oluwande asked, head lolling a little to one side. “Really? Just never?”

“I’ve been into guys since I was old enough to jerk it,” Lucius shrugged expansively. “And I lacked imagination as a horny high schooler. And since then I haven’t been lucky enough to attract a guy with one.”

“You’re missing out,” Oluwande informed him.

“What do you think?” Lucius asked Jim.

“I think everyone should have both,” they gestured with their glass. “Or neither. Or something new. Who the fuck cares? What are we talking about again?”

“Lucius has never slept with someone with a vulva,” Oluwande reminded them. “Vagina. Pussy? I like pussy as a word, but like…I dunno. Pussy is a vibe, not an organ, right?”

“Is it?” Lucius looked between them.

“Yeah, maybe, “ Jim considered. “I’ve got a vagina, but I don’t think I’ve got a pussy. Sometimes Olu has a pussy.”

“Exactly, exactly,” Oluwande nodded. “Especially on really good Teal days, I definitely have one.”

“Frenchie would probably be on board with that,” a dash of pencil and sketch Jim acquired another arm, extended over the back of the couch.

“Wait! Wait,” Oluwande sat up a little, then sagged down against the gravity of the bean bag. “Luc…our Lucius, has a little slice of virginity left! Un-fucking-believable.”

“I mean, arguably,” Lucius wrinkled his nose. “Is it really that different?” Jim and Oluwande both gave him a look. “Wow, you guys have definitely reached ‘couple who have been together so long they make the same facial expressions’.”

“It’s different,” Oluwande said firmly. “In really good ways.”

“All right, I’ll put it on my bucket list.”

He concentrated on his paper for a second which was why he was startled when Jim’s hand landed on his collar and dragged him forward.

“Oookay, hello,” he laughed and followed the drag to crawl across the couch. He straddled their lap, admiring Jim’s lazy half-smile. “Can I help you?”

“I’m horny,” Jim informed him. “And Olu is comfortable. We can cross it off your bucket list right now.”

“Oh...oh shit, really?” Lucius’ eyes went wide. “Uh, you’re both good with that?”

“Yeah,” Jim glanced at Oluwande. “We’re good?”

“We’re good,” he confirmed. “We talked about it a couple of months ago. I don’t think I could deal with it being a regular thing, but hey, variety of is the spice of life once and a while.”

“I...can’t actually promise to be any good,” Lucius realized, shifting uneasily. “But I can certainly give it my all.”

“Half the fucking battle,” Jim pulled him down again.

Kissing Jim was like being annihilated. They were ruthlessly good at it, sucking Lucius’ bottom lip into their mouth, dancing the tip of their tongue over it until it felt like it was hardwired straight to cock. Usually when they made out, Lucius was drunk enough that getting it up would be a losing battle, but tonight, he was only pleasantly smeared out and he had absolutely no problem.

It didn’t hurt that Jim paused just long enough to set their drink down on the coffee table, then ran their hands under Lucius' shirt, skimming fingernails over his ribs in a very promising way. He obligingly wiggled out of it. Jim tore their mouth from his to explore his chest, dropping nipping kisses over his chest.

Lucius braced one hand against the back of the couch and used the other to cradle Jim’s neck, encouraging the exploration. This was comfortable ground. Stayed comfortable as Jim shed their shirt and Lucius could trace the musculature of their shoulders.

“Fuck, I love your skin,” he groaned as Jim flicked their tongue over his nipple with interest.

“Soft and a little furry, right?” Oluwande giggled, “like a cat’s ear.”

“Silk.” Lucius agreed.

“Shut up,” Jim recaptured his mouth.

They kissed for a while and Lucius lost himself in the exchange. Jim’s tongue was so clever and fast. If he was with another lover, Lucius might’ve started grinding against them, but he wasn’t sure where the lines were with Jim.

Then in a very sudden, very clear way, Jim’s hands were on his ass dragging him into contact. His cock ground into their stomach which was very firm. Lucius made an appreciative noise into their mouth. Maybe he could have just ground himself into a lazy orgasm, but after a minute of that Jim pulled away.

“You want to do this?” They checked.

“Yes,” he said without reservation.

“You won’t get...weird about it?”

“No,” he promised. “Even if it’s not my scene, I’ll make sure we both have a good time this round and I’ll just decline if it comes up again. Okay?”

“...yeah, okay,” they decided.

Apparently just like most things with Jim, it was either a yes or a no and both went full tilt. Yes, meant that Jim got to their feet and without any hesitation shucked off their shirt, pants and underwear, so they stood before him entirely nude. He’d seen it all before, drawn it even, but it was another thing to have their cunt inches from his face. Very vivid.

“They like it if you touch their chest a lot first,” Oluwande suggested, distantly behind them. “You can get pretty rough, they don’t have a lot of feeling in their nipples.”

“Yeah?” Lucius checked with Jim.

‘“Mhm,” they stepped forward, hesitated then put themselves in his lap, bringing their lovely deep brown nipples in range.

Who was Lucius to resist? He rested his hands on Jim’s sides, and leaned in to lap at the right nipple, the hard nub a familiar bit of territory. Jim’s only reaction was to lean into it, silent, but clearly a demand.

This Lucius could do. He licked and then, experimentally, put his teeth to the nub and was rewarded with a soft encouraging noise. When he really put his effort into it, Jim grunted in approval, hips rocketing forward. Hell yeah. Lucius could work with that. He lost long minutes bringing forth Jim’s rutting hips, laving attention on both brown disks with teeth and tongue. Whichever one was not receiving his mouth’s attention, he made sure to rub over in slow circles with a thumb.

“Oh fuck,” Jim said under their breath. “Okay...okay.. Here...”

They grabbed Lucius’ hand away from where it was slowly torturing one apaprently oversensaized nipple.

“Tell me what you like,” he all, but purred.

“I like to start with one finger,” they said, quiet, but firm. “Slide it slow. Your thumb can go on my clit, slow circles like you were doing.”

“Guided tour,” he reminded them.

“Yeah..yeah okay,” they considered then just took his hand and molded it into the shape they wanted, pointer finger hooked up, thumb cocked.

Then in what felt like molasses slow motion, Jim took his wrist and brought it down to the right level. With a look of intense concentration, they shifted their hips to align his hand where they need it and then sank down.

Wet heat enveloped Lucius’ finger.

“Yeah...oh hell yeah,” he licked his lips. “Okay, where’s the-”

Jim placed his thumb on what was very clearly a distinct nub.

“Start soft,” they warned.

“This is what guy’s can’t find?” Lucius asked incredulously. “It’s obvious!”

“People are dumb,” Oluwande agreed. “I do big circles at first, narrow in.”

“Yeah,” Jim agreed and when Lucius moved his thumb in a wide arc, he could feel muscle flutter around his pointer finger. “Move in and out. Slow.”

It was a dance, and Lucius might not know the steps, but he was very familiar with the rhythm. After a false start or two, he got the hang of the duel motion. It was easy to tell what Jim liked, their breath broke in half when he did something right.

“Another finger,” they demanded and he had to readjust, but when he slid in two, Jim groaned deeply and rocked against him in clear demand.

The angle was new, but Lucius adjusted to it. As Jim’s breath got faster, he stroked a little faster and harder over their clit. Their hands landed on his shoulders and their grip dug in as they thrust harder against him. He could feel the walls of them clutching around him in their own rhythm and it was startlingly sexy in a way he couldn’t have antcipated. It egged him on to go faster, to press a little harder.

“Yes!” Jim moaned and then spasmed around his fingers, everything getting substantially wetter.

“...did you just come?” He checked.

“Yeah,” they dropped their forehead to his shoulder.

“That was so hot,” he told them, kissing their neck and shoulder. “Like really really scorchingly hot.”

“It was?” they asked. And it was a little weird because Lucius’ fingers were definitely still lodged in them, but they made no move to get away, so he left them there.

“Yeah, you’re really fucking hot and I’ve never been gripped like that before.”

“Want to go for all three?”

“All three what?” he blinked.

“Hands, mouth and genitals,” Oluwande put in helpfully.

“In one night?”

“I can go like six or seven times?” Jim hazarded. “Olu?”

“Record is twelve, but that was a wild night.”

“Twelve?” Lucius squeaked. “Okay, forget having sex with someone with a vagina. I WANT one.”

“They have their moments,” Jim laughed in his ear. They were also already moving their hips again, rocking against his fingers. “What do you say?”

“I mean I’m here to eat the whole buffet, I think.”

“Good. How are you on your knees?”

“My friend, it’s where I do my best work.”

Easy to say. A little daunting to drop to his knees and be confronted with an entirely new setup and sensory experience. The smell was definitely different, but not nearly as off putting as he might’ve imagined. It was distinctly an odor of sex and how bad could that be? Jim’s heels landed on his back, their strong legs pulling him in.

“Dos? Don’ts?” He asked as leaned into kiss their inner thigh. That was the same and he could bury himself there for a long time.

“Go slow until I say faster,” they decreed. “And I’ll tell you where to go.”

“Yeah, okay.”

Legs spread, Lucius again decided some straight men weren’t very clever. Maybe it was because he was used to looking for cocks, but it was clear what was a thick bundle of nerves. He slid his hands under Jim’s ass, massaging the flesh a little and admriing the strength beneath the thin layer of fat. Then without allowing himself further though, he licked a stripe from top to bottom.

“Yeah...good,” Jim encouraged, “Just the tip of your tongue right...Lucius!”

He was a fast study. The taste was new, somehow briny instead of just skin and musk. Having eaten a lot of ass in his time, he was used to the close warmth, but the natural generation of slick, salty body fluid surprised him. It was a little like come and not at all like it all at once. He chased the newness, flattening his tongue over the whole of them.

“Concentrate on the clit,” Jim said, a little breathlessly. “Smaller motion...kind of...fuck...”

“Like your tongue is an arrow and they’re the target,” Oluwande advised.

Which was surprisingly clear and Lucius could do that. He used the to tip of his tongue, teasing it over and over them. Jim’s breath caught again and again until they started rocking against his face.

“Fuck me with your fingers...”

New angle again. Lucius hadn’t had to learn so quickly on the fly in bed since he’d first given Izzy an order. He slid two fingers home and Jim’s hand slid into his hair, not quite pulling, but definitely a firm hold. He fucked into them as he flicked his tongue over and over their clit. It took longer than the average blow job, but Jim was much more responsive than a lot of guys. They groaned and rocked against him, tugged at his hair and as they got closer, they actually talked,

“Just like that..” they mumbled, “ fuck, Lucius please...harder. More....”

When they came a second time, he could tell much more easily, the hot slick of them coating his tongue and his mouth. His chin too. He pulled away a little, only to find that Jim was holding his head in place. When he went on licking, they didn’t pull away, but road his tongue through the aftershocks.

“You’ve never done that before?” they demanded as he pulled back at last, catching his breath.

“Nope,” he assured them. “Doing okay?”

“Yeah,” they half-laughed, half-groaned, “you’re doing really good.”

“...is it rude to say I think I need to wipe my face?”

“Nope.,” they grinned. “You got me going really good. Not surprised. You can use my t-shirt since you gotta wear yours home.”

Lucius groped for it, found the fabric and wiped off his chin and mouth. The taste lingered, but not the way spunk could sometimes. He reached for his glass of water, took a sip and set it back down.

“Wow.” He laughed. “I kind of can’t believe that just happened, but it was really hot.”

“Yeah?” Jim checked his face as if he might be lying, then smiled when he nodded vigorously. “Cool. You want to fuck me?”

“I would love that if you’d trust me to do it. Condoms are a must though. Haven’t been tested in a few weeks.”

“I don’t think we have any,” Jim wrinkled up their nose.

“Lucky for you, I’m always prepared.” Reaching into his front pocket (why was he still wearing pants? Convenient at the moment though), he pulled out a foil packet.

“Lucius Black, Good Times Boy Scout,” Oluwande laughed. “You got lube in there too?”

“Of course.”

“You won’t need it,” Jim reached for him, tugging Lucius back up to kiss him. It was sloppier, but that was almost hotter. Precise, accurate Jim kissing him open mouthed and hungry was its own turn on.

With a few quick moves, Lucius shimmied out of his pants. He’d forgone underwear today which had been a genius move, he decided as Jim’s clever long fingers wrapped around his cock and gave it an interested long caress.

“He’s not much bigger than you,” Jim said and it took Lucius a second to realize they were talking to Oluwande. “But you’re definitely thicker.”

“It’s not a competition,” OIuwande said airly. “I know what to do with it.”

“You do,” Jim grinned, then turned their attention back to Lucius. “I’m going to get on top. Do it the way I like. You good with that?”

“Hell yeah,” he matched their wild smile. “I love that for us.”

Which was how he wound up sitting on the couch he’d spent many enjoyable friendly evenings, utterly naked, hands on Jim’s hips and watching as they arranged him as they wanted. At last they seemed satisfied as they grasped the base of his cock, holding it at attention their grip intensely warm even through the condom,

“Ready?”

“Yeah, I’m good.”

“Me too,” they winked and then sank down.

Through the condom, the strong, warm grip wasn’t terribly different from what he was used to. The angle was fun though. Jim was much closer than his lovers could usually get when penetrated. It was downright easy to slide his arms up their back and put his mouth to good use one of their already pinked up nipples.

“Oooooh,” they moaned. They rocked up slow and sank all the way back down.

They settled into a sticky sweet rhythm, Lucius rocking up against them as they slid down, retreating as they rose. Jim liked taking the full length and almost separating entirely which started Lucius’ spine tingling. He loved a slow fuck, the almost meditative state of it. Jim reached down into their folds, rocking their fingers over their clit.

“I could do that,” Lucius offered.

“Yeah?” Jim leaned down to kiss him, “cute. Maybe if there’s a next time.”

They rocked together, time losing meaning, even as Lucius fought tenaciously for control of the climax building in his gut. He refused to do anything, but the metronome pace Jim had set. And then all at once Jim bit off an ragged moan and clenched down hard around him, shaking a little in his grip.

“Yeah?” He watched their face.

“Uhhuh,” their blissed out state was obvious, their usually tightly drawn face gone a little slack.

“They like if you end giving to them full blast,” Oluwande suggested, though he could’ve been speaking an ocean away for how hard it was for Lucius to register.

“Really?” Lucius licked his lips.

“I can take whatever you’ve got, Black,” they shoved down pointedly.

“Oh, it’s fucking on,” he grinned.

Lucius might not like to lift weights or go for runs, but he got in a startlingly amount of his preferred forms of exercise. He considered the different of their statures and the changed angels. Carefully he braced Jim with his arms, sliding them up their back to grip their shoulders and then leaned them back to give him better access.

Then he started thrusting like a machine, short, hard strokes that made Jim rattle off a series of punched out moans that cascaded one on top of the other as Lucius bent his head and put in his back into it. He could feel his orgasm coming like a train and doubled his efforts, Jim’s moans becoming nearly screams as he thrust a last few times, coming hard enough to rob him of breath for an instant.

“Fuckfuckuck...”Jim moaned, reaching between their legs to rub hard against themselves one last time.Then they came hard around his spent cock and he shuddered, oversensitized and blitzed out.

Spent, but still aware of his friend in his grasp, Lucius shifted and drew Jim towards him, until they sagged against him. He kissed their shoulder, rubbed their back.

“Thank you.” he whispered into their ear. “That was beautiful. You were amazing.”

“Shut up,” they muttered, but didn’t draw away. If anything they held him closer.

In a few minutes, Lucius would get off the couch, toss the condom and put his clothes back on. Oluwande would hug him, an assurance that all was well, and Jim would kiss him goodbye. He’d carry the memory of that night with him always. Remember it as a beautiful gift.

Now though, he just breathed in Jim’s citrus, sweat and sex smell, rocking them both a little as they came down from the high of it all.

“Love you,” Lucius confided.

“Yeah,” Jim smiled into his shoulder. He could feel the shape of their lips there and feel their pleasure against every inch of his body. “Hard same.”

#leda house and the kraken verse #jim jimenez #lucius black #oluwande boodhari #paint me orange and teal #and black tonight #i see a white wall and I want to paint it black

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bitsandbobsofwriting · 3 years

Text

5 times Merlin noticed Arthur’s odd reactions to things,

+1 time he could start on the road to helping.

TW: Graphic descriptions of child abuse, claustrophobia, panic attacks/flashbacks/disassociating.

Merlin notices things. He always has done, ever since he was a child. Maybe it was the magic, maybe it was the ingrained fear of being snuck up on (as a Bastard child, as a citizen of Essetir, and as someone with magic) or maybe it was just some odd, innate skill. It doesn’t really matter: Merlin is observant, he has keen eyes, which is why he notices Arthur’s sudden change in disposition.

It was a normal afternoon, Arthur and Merlin had just gotten back from the first hunt of the spring and were filling The King in on how it had gone. Well... Arthur was, Merlin was just sort of stood there.

The servant was annoyed that Arthur had dragged him along, both to the hunt and to the meeting, but The Prince had been so excited (not that he showed it too much) at the prospect of telling his father how well everything went, he conceded easily. It was rare that Arthur got his father’s approval; Merlin had only been serving him for a few months, so maybe it was stupid of him to want to see Arthur happy, but oh well. He may be a prat, but he meant well and he loved his people, he deserved a little happiness occasionally.

Uther was in fact proud, and Merlin had better luck than Arthur at holding his grin in, though that changed quickly.

Arthur was looking out of the window and making casual comments on when he planned on going out next, and Uther, stepping quietly without even realising it, manages to move to the space just behind him without Arthur noticing. He claps a firm, but proud hand on Arthur’s shoulder, and if Merlin hadn’t known that Arthur would deny it later, he would accuse him of jumping a foot in the air. He turns around quickly, eyes wide and barely focusing as Uther gives his son another congratulations, as well as a terse “Make sure you keep it up.”

The sudden tightness in Arthur’s shoulders and his clear discomfort at having Uther so close do not go unnoticed by Merlin and he frowns, making a split second decision that could very well get him put in the stocks:

“Sorry to interrupt, My Lords, but The Prince mentioned wanting to join the evening patrol. Sir Leon and his partner will be leaving shortly.”

Uther whips his head around disapprovingly, and his anger at Merlin for interrupting whatever it was he was about to say translates to a tightened grip on Arthur’s shoulder. The Prince flinches slightly, but carefully steps away from The King, speaking before he can order the servant punished:

“Right you are, Merlin. If you’re happy for me to take my leave, father?”

Uther looks back to his son, confused, but approving of Arthur’s sudden eagerness to join extra patrols:

“Very well. I expect you to keep up the hard work, Arthur, I shall be disappointed if you start slacking again.”

Arthur nods and bows, but doesn’t say anything, his jittery demeanour getting worse with The King’s vaguely threatening tone. He walks stiffly from the room, and Merlin follows with a confused frown, making sure to keep his distance and step loudly on the stone floor; apparently Arthur was feeling jumpy today.

Arthur, still in his armour, leads them down to the courtyard where Sir Leon and another knight were indeed preparing to leave. The Prince doesn’t say anything to Merlin, simply nods in his direction before joining the others, and Merlin thinks he must have done the right thing if Arthur wasn’t shouting at him for giving him extra work that he hadn’t intended to do.

He stores this new, odd information in his mind for future reference, reminding himself to stay away from The Prince’s back and warn him of anyone approaching.

The next thing Merlin notices doesn’t come from a specific incident, more from a series of odd happenings over time.

When Arthur had been released from the dungeons after Merlin’s miraculous survival from being poisoned, he was a mess. At the time, Merlin had smugly suggested that it was because Arthur was worried about him; his hair was similar to a bird’s nest, as if The Prince had been running his hands through it and pulling it on a near constant basis, and the shirt he was wearing frankly stunk of sweat.

Arthur had rolled his eyes at that and slunk off to sulk in his chambers—once Gaius had assured him Merlin would be fine—and the young servant had taken that as confirmation.

The first time Merlin actually witnesses Arthur’s quick, shallow breath and wide panicked eyes, they’re rushing through the narrow servant corridors. The Prince’s grip on his sword looks uncomfortably tight and the sweat on his brow seems a little odd: they weren’t running that fast. Merlin figures that Arthur is just stressed out from trying to catch the sneaky arsehole assassin who was trying to do in as many councilmen as he could before getting away.

Which is an understandable thing to be stressed about.

Merlin only takes actual note of it when, after the assassin had gotten away, The King had demanded Arthur retrace his footsteps back through the castle to see if the criminal had dropped anything or hidden anywhere. Arthur practically freezes up at that, his wide eyes and pale skin making Merlin frown in confusion, only for his frown to deepen when Arthur stutters through his suggestion of having another knight lead the internal search whilst Arthur heads out into the city.

The relief on Arthur’s face when Uther agrees is, though brief and immediately hidden, immense.

Merlin thinks back on the state Arthur had been in after he’d quested for Merlin’s cure. Perhaps... perhaps Arthur had been such a mess because he had spent a night in the dungeons, and not because he had been worried about Merlin.

As much as Arthur might like to think Merlin’s an idiot, the servant makes quick connections, pieces things together easily, like a children’s puzzle. At least when it comes to Arthur.

The servant is also reminded of the way Arthur insists that Merlin leave a few candles lit in the evening. At first, Merlin thought it was because Arthur was sneaking out of bed to get more paperwork done (Uther may rarely see it, but Arthur works ridiculously hard), but he checked the paperwork one morning and nothing had been added or altered. Then he though that it was maybe so Arthur could see any attackers coming in the night, because he was paranoid like that, but the candles always burnt out after a couple hours anyway, so it wasn’t like they were lasting through the night.

Merlin figures he was probably just reading into things too much (plus, he knows that accusing Arthur of being afraid of the dark or tight spaces would get him nothing but a slap up the head and, depending on The Prince’s mood, a visit to the stocks), though Arthur refusing to stay in Merlin’s tiny bedroom for any longer than necessary, and insisting on multiple torches being lit whenever they ventured into caves, forces Merlin to reconsider.

It was after one such adventure in one such cave that Merlin took advantage of the castle’s funds being available to him, and heads down to the market to buy some larger candles (and if he cast a spell to make them last longer... well... no one needed to know). Arthur gives him an odd look when he walks into The Prince’s chambers that evening and begins setting up and lighting them without acknowledgement; Merlin answers his questioning hum without looking at him:

“I know you like to be able to see just in case attackers make it into your chambers: these ones should last all the way until the morning. I set up a standing order with a merchant in the lower town.”

Arthur frowns confusedly, knowing that no one had managed to sneak into his chambers in months; it was definitely odd that Merlin had suddenly decided that this was a good idea. Still, Merlin doesn’t look back at him as he casually moves around the room, lighting the new candles and hoping that Arthur wouldn’t notice him leaving the curtains open by about an inch. He notices, though he doesn’t mention it in his response:

“Hmm. It seems you’re finally putting that brain of yours to use, Merlin.”

Merlin finally turns to look at him, glaring half-heartedly as he sarcastically laughs. Arthur just grins at him, glancing at the strip of moonlight on the floor for only a moment before climbing into his bed, muttering for Merlin to go ahead and get an early night.

From then on, Merlin packs extra torches in his pack when they go adventuring, and if he has room, a candle, in case they end up in an inn. If Arthur notices any of that, or the fact that Merlin always opens the window whenever they’re in the tiny Physician’s chambers for more than five minutes and always keeps him company on the now-rare nights Uther is angry enough to lock Arthur in the dungeons... well... neither of them point it out.

The next odd reaction doesn’t happen until years later.

Of course Merlin keeps noticing Arthur’s aversion to surprise touch (especially from knights and his father) and general dislike of the dark/closed spaces, but dealing with it and adjusting to make things easier just sort of becomes part of their routine, without either of them really realising.

Arthur has been King for a few weeks when it happens. It's warm, too warm for armour, so the roundtable knights are practicing their hand to hand instead of using swords and shields. Arthur usually sits out for these lessons, teaching and observing from the side-lines as opposed to taking part in spars. Merlin had always thought it was odd, but the one and only time he had brought it up, years ago, Arthur had forced him to join in on the lessons. He had a lot of bruises that day.

But today was not a usual day apparently; Arthur joined in. He seemed reluctant at first, like he was unsure if he actually wanted to, but his first weeks as King had been going well and he’d had a successful meeting with some of his Lords the previous day, so he’s in a good mood. He finally caves when Lancelot offers to spar with him; there was something about the gentle man that just makes everyone in his vicinity feel a little more at ease.

The sun was shining, but heavy rain the previous week means the grass was bright and soft; all in all, it was a lovely day, but Merlin’s focus was still on Arthur and the way he and Lance dance around each other. All the knights were holding their strength back a little, the purpose of sparring is rarely to go all out, but practicing form and technique and footwork is always a good idea.

Arthur falls into the rhythm of the spar, dodging and side-stepping and blocking with ease, neither he nor Lance were eager to speed things up in the heat. He was moving automatically, running on instincts and just a little bit of adrenaline, which is probably why he freezes up when confronted with something so terrifyingly familiar.

A glint of sunlight off something metallic caches his eye, and his gaze moves away from the fight for barely a split-second, but when he looks back all he can see is shortly cropped brown hair, a bright red tunic, and a fist swinging for his face.

Lancelot yelps when Arthur doesn’t block like he had expected him to, and Merlin is sprinting over before The King’s head has even finished rocking to the side. The other knights go to crowd closer, worried for their leader, but Merlin waves them off harshly and they keep their distance, trusting him. Lancelot looks horrified, but dutifully steps back as Merlin puts one hand on Arthur’s shoulder and uses the other to tilt his chin from side to side.

Merlin’s frown deepens when Arthur just lets himself be manhandled. Even in his worst injuries he was reluctant to let people check him over; Merlin quickly notices his wide eyes staring vacantly and the breathing that was far deeper than it really should be. He tries to get The King to look at him as he speaks lowly, so the others can’t hear him:

“Arthur? You with me?”

Arthur gulps, blinking rapidly and meeting his gaze, though Merlin can tell that he still isn’t really seeing:

“I... I’m sorry, I... I didn’t mean... I wasn’t...”

Merlin can only just hear Arthur’s whispers, and he’s grateful for the fact that the others definitely can’t hear them. He moves the hand on Arthur’s shoulder down to grip the other man’s hand and squeezes, and uses the other to shield his eyes from the sun as he mutters:

“Arthur, it’s Merlin, you’re out on the training field with members of the Roundtable, it’s late Spring, and you were crowned King three weeks ago. Arthur?”

It’s only then that Arthur’s eyes come into focus.

Merlin has never been grateful to have the bones in his hands almost break, and he doubts he’ll ever be grateful for it again. Merlin’s squeezes back, digging his nails in just a little as a subtle “please don’t break my hand”. Arthur loosens his grip and Merlin raises his eyebrow slightly in question; the blonde groans slightly and lifts a shaking hand to rub his eyes:

“What happened?”

Merlin glances at the huddle of knights behind him and gives them a reassuring smile before he looks back to Arthur, speaking so everyone can hear:

“You took quite the well placed hit from Lance, got a mild concussion and lost yourself for a minute. You’ll probably be fine by this evening, but I want to get you in the shade just in case, ok?”

Arthur seems surprised at the explanation, but nods wordlessly, letting Merlin guide him up towards the castle without a fuss. That just worries Merlin more, and he speeds up slightly as he yells over his shoulder:

“Leon’s in charge!”

Leon just chuckles, knowing that Merlin wouldn’t be paying them the slightest bit of attention if Arthur was even close to being seriously injured, but Gwaine just tilts his head and frowns:

“I love the guy but since when does Merlin decide who’s in charge? If he had said Elyan was in charge would we have just... gone with it?”

Leon shoves him playfully and tells him to get back to work, giving Lancelot a comforting pat on the shoulder as they all look away from the servant-King duo.

Merlin doesn’t take Arthur to the physician’s chambers, but goes to The King’s bedchamber instead; Arthur wasn’t actually concussed, but his mind had been elsewhere for a moment, so much so that he hadn’t recognised Merlin and spoke to him as if he were someone else. He sits The King down on the edge of the bed and kneels in front of him, hands on his knees as he frowns:

“Arthur? Still with me, or gone again?”

Arthur takes in a sharp breath, making eye contact with Merlin again as he straightens his back and answers confidently, his voice wavering only slightly:

“Yeah, yes, I’m with you. Sorry, lost in thought. I don’t feel concussed, are you sure?”

Merlin nods and stands up, leaving Arthur on the bed as he moves to open the window and get him a goblet of water:

“Hmm, I lied, I don’t think you are either, you weren’t hit that hard to be honest, but you weren’t really... with it, thought it best to get you away from the others.-”

He turns around the see Arthur tense and angry-looking, though Merlin gets the distinct impression that it’s not aimed at him:

“-You probably just got dazed by the hit, that and you’re overtired, you’ve been staying up late the last few nights. Drink this, maybe have a nap, or at least stay out of the sunlight for a few hours, you’ll definitely be getting a headache at some point soon and I don’t want you to make it worse.”

He hands over the goblet of water, holding it slightly out of Arthur’s reach so the other man has to stand for it. He manages to stand on his own two feet with no issue, and the shaking in his hands is lesser than it was before, though not gone entirely, so Merlin makes a mental list of all the chores that he could finish here, in Arthur’s presence. The King drinks the water absent-mindedly, leaving the goblet on the side table as he mutters:

“Overtired... yeah, probably.”

He wanders towards his desk, collapsing in the seat and staring half-heartedly at the paperwork spread all over the place. Merlin relaxes slightly, deciding that maybe there was a reason Arthur never joined in on hand-to-hand.

Merlin wasn’t fond of Arthur’s current visitor, Lord Algere, but he was pleased to note that Arthur didn’t seem all that fond of him either. He was an old supporter of Uther’s, which meant the occasional snide remark about how Uther would’ve handled certain situations differently, followed by deferential admissions of being “a close friend and advisor to the former King.”.

He was just friendly and kiss-ass enough that he couldn’t be kicked from court, that Arthur still had to be polite to him, but he rubbed pretty much everyone up the wrong way and Merlin couldn’t wait until he left to go back to his estate, thankfully situated on the furthest edge of the Kingdom.

It's the day before he’s due to leave when he says it:

“You remind me of your father a great deal, you know, you’re very similar.”

Arthur freezes up at the so-called compliment, but recovers quickly, giving the Lord a tight smile before excusing himself so he wouldn’t be late for the city border patrol he was undertaking. Normally Merlin didn’t go with him on these patrols, he’d only be gone for a couple hours at most and he was joined by a partner; it gave Merlin time to finish up some chores, but the servant felt the need to be there today.

The King is silent the entire time, which is unusual considering he's riding alongside Sir Leon today, and those two always have something official to talk about. He doesn’t even spare Merlin an annoyed glance when the servant drops his bag and has to dismount to pick it up, only halts and waits for him to catch up again. Though he's sure The King had relaxed slightly at the beginning of the patrol, when Merlin mentioned that he fancied tagging along, and if Merlin weren’t so worried he’d be immensely proud at his apparent ability to put Arthur at ease.

Leon gives Merlin a worried grimace as they ride back into the citadel, but Merlin shakes his head and smiles, his meaning of “I’ll deal with it, I’m sure he’s fine” obvious in the action. The two of them have gotten quite good at silently communicating over the years, God forbid Arthur find out that they were trying to look after him.

They made the journey up to Arthur’s chambers in continued silence, though Merlin really starts to really worry when Arthur just wanders over to the window and stares down into the courtyard. He only does that when he’s feeling particularly pensive. Merlin lays out the work he knows Arthur had wanted to get done this afternoon and perches on the edge of the desk, facing Arthur’s back with his arms crossed:

“Arthur, you alright? You’ve been quiet.”

Arthur nods, but doesn’t turn away from the window, staying silent. Merlin purses his lips, but it doesn’t take him long to figure out what he thinks might be wrong. He moves across the room and sits himself down at the dining table, casually starting on the polishing he had left there earlier as he speaks, trying to keep his tone as neutral and absent-minded as possible:

“I’ve no clue what Algere was talking about earlier, he either knows nothing about you, or didn’t know your father nearly as much as he says he did.”

Arthur finally turns from the window, fixing a curious frown on Merlin, who forces himself to keep his gaze down:

“What makes you say that?”

Merlin still doesn’t look up, but knows that he’s on the right track. Arthur has been able to admit, especially recently with his changing opinions on magic, that his father was not a good man, though he still struggles to admit that he wasn’t a good father:

“Well, from what I’ve seen, you look way more like your mother than you do Uther, and you don’t act like him at all, you haven’t picked up on any of his mannerisms or anything.-”

The servant finally looks up at Arthur, his words true but his nonchalance false as he continues with a confused frown:

“-To be honest, I’ve always thought you act more like an odd mix of Leon and Morgana. You’ve definitely got Leon’s sense of chivalry and respect and his knightly traits, but your... how do I say... fiery attitude when it comes to your sense of right and wrong, that’s definitely Morgana. Uther was quick to anger, you’ve got fairly good control of your anger nowadays. Uther was set in his ways and refused to change no matter the consequences, you bend traditions all the time, improve things in ways that Uther would never have dreamed of doing.-”

The servant shrugs and looks back down to his polishing:

“-I just don’t see the similarities, and I certainly know you better than Algere. I’ve a feeling I knew Uther better than Algere as well.”

Arthur hums non-committedly, but sits down at his desk instead of turning back to the window. Merlin feels the tension leave his shoulders, but doesn’t relax fully when he notices Arthur staring at his folded hands instead of working. Apparently it had only partially worked:

“Arthur?”

He doesn’t look up, just shuffles slightly in his eat as he lowly answers:

“Do you think I might... turn out like him? In the end? People say he was kind and gentle when he was young. If... if I ever have children...”

The question goes unasked, but the fear in his voice is palpable, and Merlin has to stop himself from sprinting from the room to burn every painting of Uther he can find. Instead, he puts the armour down on the table softly and stands, making sure to step loudly and clear his throat as he leans against the edge of Arthur’s desk again:

“Arthur, you’re a wonderful King, a wonderful knight, a wonderful man, and I guarantee that one day you’ll be a wonderful father. Don’t stress, you’ve out done your father in every other aspect of your life, I’m sure you’ll continue to do so.”

Arthur looks up at Merlin with a slight frown on his face, though it’s more thoughtful than anything. Merlin holds his gaze with a soft smile for a few moments, content to wait for Arthur to give him some sort of cue; Arthur just rolls his eyes and shoves him from the table, picking up a quill and finally beginning to actually work:

“Try not to insult the former King too much in one sitting, Merlin. And that armour won’t polish itself.”

Merlin just laughs quietly and moves back to the table, understanding and accepting that that was probably the best he was going to get. He makes a mental note to mention Arthur’s similarities to Leon next time the three of them are together; Arthur will be relieved, though he won’t show it, and Leon will be flattered beyond words.

He dares not do it with Morgana. Both of them would be secretly be pleased, though they’d kick up one hell of a fuss trying to deny it.

Thankfully, the two of them are in Arthur’s chambers when it happens.

Merlin’s not entirely sure he could use the “concussion” excuse like he did last time, not with the length of time it lasted.

It’s late, the curtains are drawn—with the traditional inch wide gap allowing a strip of moonlight to fall across the floor and over Arthur’s bed—and Arthur’s special candles have been lit. He’d been made aware of the spell Merlin had cast on them a few months ago, and though he was annoyed that Merlin had put himself at such risk, he hadn’t asked him to remove the spell, which the servant took as a good sign (both that Arthur wasn’t too mad about the magic, and that it had been a good idea).

The King sits at his desk, doing his normal pile of evening paperwork and trying to fit in as much as he can before Merlin snatches it away and manhandles him into bed, Merlin who is generally pottering around the room tidying. Arthur thinks of it more as just... moving the mess around, but he let’s him be; Merlin’s quiet company is much appreciated, especially with all the difficulties Arthur is having with repealing the ban on magic.

The King lets out a deep sigh, sitting back in his chair and tiredly rubbing his eyes. Merlin notices, because of course he does, and wanders over, a concerned frown on his face as he sits in the chair opposite him:

“You alright? Hit a snag?”

Arthur hums but shakes his head, opening his eyes but staying slumped in his seat; Merlin makes plans to get him to bed at some point in the next half candle mark at least:

“Hmm. No, just tired. This whole thing is draining, I wish I could just force them to see sense.”

Merlin knew that the them Arthur speaks of is the council. Currently, The King has about half of them on side, not including Leon, Morgana, and Gaius, but they need a majority by a significant margin before they can move forward, and Arthur refuses to act in any way that isn’t democratic.

Merlin nods, smiling softly at his lap as Arthur closes his eyes again:

“This is what it means to be King, Arthur,-”

At first, Merlin doesn’t notice the way Arthur’s eyes fly open, nor the way he slowly sits up straight, nor the way his shoulders tighten and his skin grows pale and his eyes go vacant.

“-but I think you’re doing great, don’t be too hard on... Arthur? Are you alright?”

Merlin frowns when he finally looks up to see The King sitting ramrod straight and staring into the middle distance, his breathing ragged and his blue eyes glassy and unseeing. He stands slowly, moving around to Arthur’s side to crouch there and wave a hand in front of his face.

He doesn’t react.

Merlin shakes his shoulder slightly, hesitating only momentarily before touching him, but even then, Arthur doesn’t respond. The servant gulps, glancing over his shoulder at the door to make sure it was locked before touching a hand to Arthur’s forehead and muttering a spell; he normally uses this spell to wake up unconscious people, but it has no effect on The King other than sending a slight shiver through his body.

Merlin calls his name a few times, but it expectedly has no effect. He tries to test Arthur’s pain awareness by pinching the underside of his arm, and whilst he flinches away slightly, he doesn’t come to, still stares blankly at the opposite wall. Merlin thinks of calling for the guards and asking for Gaius, but somehow he doesn’t think the elderly physician will be able to help; there was no magic at play here, and he certainly hadn’t been poisoned. In all honestly he just looked a little zoned out, like the time Merlin had lied about the concussion, except it was clearly lasting longer this time.

Merlin frowns but tries his best to keep the panic at bay, it had only been a few minutes now, but other than breathing Arthur hadn’t moved an inch.

The servant takes a deep, relaxing breath, or at least what he hoped would be a relaxing breath. It’s not. He uses magic to slide Arthur’s chair away from the desk slightly, and moves into the space it leaves, shuffling all of the paperwork away and leaning on the edge. Once again, he puts one hand on Arthur’s shoulder, and takes his hand with the other, squeezing slightly.

He waits.

After another ten minutes or so, Arthur’s breathing gets slightly more frantic, and he begins squeezing Merlin’s hand back. Merlin moves closer, crouching in between Arthur’s legs and shaking his shoulder again, but he stops when Arthur begins muttering:

“Didn’t... I... I’m sorry. Not my.... didn’t... didn’t mean to... sorry... disappointment...”

Merlin’s frown deepens at the barely audible whispers, especially when he notices the tears gathering in Arthur’s eyes. He shakes his shoulder again and forces himself to speak, just about managing to keep the waiver from his voice:

“Arthur, there’s no one else here, it’s just you and me, it’s just us, just Arthur and Merlin. It’s the evening in late Autumn, it’s almost time for bed, you sparred with Percival this morning and had a long, annoying council meeting this afternoon. You’re sat at your desk in your chambers with me, no one else.”

Arthur’s eyes come into focus, slowly at first and then all at once. He blinks and stands suddenly, almost tipping his chair backwards in his haste as he reaches a hand to his sword-less hip. Merlin moves back quickly, grimacing as he bumps harshly into the desk. Arthur’s gaze whips around the room desperately, as if searching for a danger that he was certain was there, before his eyes finally land on Merlin. The servant holds his hands out placatingly, not relaxing even as Arthur takes a deep breath and seems to calm down.

The King slumps back in his seat, rubbing the tears from his eyes with shaking hands; Merlin crouches down again, but doesn’t dare touch him, not quite yet:

“Arthur?”

His head whips up, but he relaxes again when he sees Merlin sat in front of him:

“Yes, sorry, I... must of dozed off or something.”

Merlin frowns, but nods one, speaking slowly, his tone low and even:

“Hmm. Must’ve, you looked like you were having a nightmare or something so I woke you. Time for bed, I think.”

For once, Arthur actually agrees with him, not bothering to argue like normal as he stands on shaking legs and heads to where Merlin has neatly laid his sleeping clothes on the bed. Merlin’s concerned gaze follows him, but he doesn’t move too far from the desk, deciding that he and Gaius definitely need to have a chat about... whatever the hell that was.

Half a candle mark later, Arthur is quietly wishing his manservant a good night and dismissing him. He was obviously distracted, Merlin normally can’t be frowning for more than thirty seconds before The King is hounding him about what’s wrong, but thirty minutes pass with not a question from Arthur, and Merlin makes his way to the Physician’s Chambers hoping that Gaius is still awake.

Thankfully, the elderly physician is still pottering around, tidying away various bits and pieces and generally preparing the room for a new day tomorrow. He immediately notices Merlin’s peculiar mood and gestures for the younger man to sit opposite him at the table:

“What’s bothering you, my boy?”

Merlin sits slowly, biting his lip and trying to decide just how honest to be:

“What does it mean if someone... zones out, completely, for extended periods of time?”

Gaius raises an eyebrow:

“I’m going to need a little more than that, Merlin.”

Merlin huffs but nods, shuffling in his seat slightly but responding:

“I was with someone earlier today. We were just chatting whilst we worked and suddenly they just... weren’t there anymore. Stiff, eyes glazed over, ragged breathing. They responded slightly to pain but it didn’t snap them out of it and they just... sat there, utterly blankly, for about twenty minutes. Eventually they started muttering to themselves, but it didn’t make any sense, then they... woke up, I guess, and thought they had fallen asleep. They definitely weren’t asleep, but they weren’t... I don’t know, conscious?”

Gaius frowns but nods, clutching his hands tightly on the table as he explains, his voice grave:

“Hmm. Sounds like an extended disassociation episode. I gather that I’m not to be told who this was?-”

Merlin shakes his head slightly, and though he looks slightly annoyed, Gaius nods and continues:

“-This happens mostly to people who experience something extremely traumatic, though it also happens in victims of extended abuse, especially if the abuse was in childhood, the younger the victim, the worse the reaction. Occasionally it can happen randomly, though it’s mostly triggered by something in their surrounding environment.”

Merlin’s frown deepens, and Gaius would easily hazard a guess at saying he looks angry. He doesn’t point it out though, just waits for his ward to continue:

“What can trigger it? And what other symptoms will child abuse victims display?”

Gaius takes another deep breath, but slowly responds:

“Anything can be a trigger really, something they see or smell or hear, something someone else does or says.-”

(”This is what it means to be King, Arthur,-” pops into Merlin’s head.)

“-As for other symptoms, aversion to touch, occasionally fear of being alone, OR fear of being in another’s presence. Some experience trouble with regulating strong emotions, difficulty in regulating long term relationships, platonic or otherwise, trouble with self-esteem. It varies from person to person, there is no strict list of obvious signs. Might I ask... why?”

Merlin shakes his head and stands, moving towards his bedroom with clenched hands and tight shoulders. Just before he shuts the door behind him, he turns to look at Gaius over his shoulder, brow furrowed and voice low:

“What... what was Uther like? When Arthur was a child?”

Gaius closes his eyes briefly, letting out a weary sigh and trying his best to hold in his grief:

“Strict, extremely difficult to please. He never... he never hit Arthur, not in public anyway, though it wouldn’t surprise me if he was violent privately. As a child, The Prince was terrified of the dark, and the dungeons. I got the impression that Uther forced him down there on more than one occasion. Arthur is... the one your concerned about?”

Gaius knows the answer, but it doesn’t stop the tears from welling in his eyes when Merlin wordlessly nods before shutting the door behind him.

+1)

A few weeks have passed since Merlin had figured it all out.

He didn’t dare bring it up to Arthur, and shuts the conversation down any time Gaius mentions it. The conversation is for Arthur, and Arthur only, and Merlin wasn’t going to force it.

Besides, they’ve been extremely busy with the transitions; The Kingdom was going from anti-magic to pro-magic, and Merlin was going from servant to a member of court. Arthur had tried to force nobility onto him as well as his position as Court Sorcerer, but Merlin had put his foot down at that, insisting that he wouldn’t become some stuck up wealthy arsehole, not even if his life was on the line.

Gwaine, Elyan, Percival, Gwen, and Morgana had grinned at that, Arthur and Lancelot rolled their eyes, Mordred continued to insist on calling him “My Lord” anyway, and Leon had looked marginally affronted as he mumbled something along the lines of “I’m a Lord you know, technically.”.

They aren’t lucky this time around, and it all comes to an explosive head in a quiet, though still habited corridor in the middle of the afternoon.

Afterwards, Merlin absent-mindedly considers the fact that they could’ve been in the courtyard or the throne room or somewhere equally busy, and thanks the Gods for just this little bit of luck; only two servants, one guard, and the... the noble and his son were in the corridor at the time.

Arthur and Merlin are making their way to the council room, preparing themselves for a busy meeting: it was the first since magic was officially legalised, and the first that Merlin (and Gwen, though that was another matter entirely) would officially be sitting in on. Though, in all honesty, pretty much the whole Kingdom knew that Merlin had been advising Arthur privately for years.

Merlin frowns and Arthur stiffens slightly as they spot the noble gripping his young son’s collar and aggressively whispering at him. The boy can’t be more than ten summers old, but the tears in his eyes display his utter terror clearly enough; no child should ever have to be that scared, especially not of their parents. Merlin resigns himself to just magicking the pig’s trousers down when no one was looking his way, but barely a second after he makes that decision the man raises his hand, and slaps the boy across the face.

Everyone in the corridor freezes as the boy cries out, and the noble doesn’t seem to notice the way the guard looks frantically between him and The King, waiting for instruction, or the way the servants and Merlin were staring, horrified. Arthur breaks out of his shocked stupor first, striding towards him with his fist already raised and his eyes blazing:

“How fucking DARE you?!”

His knuckles make violent contact with the man’s mouth, and the spray of blood from a busted lip and loosened teeth is what spurs Merlin into action. He runs forward, scooping the distraught boy up in his arms and quickly handing him over to one of the servants:

“Take him to Gaius, swear that you will not utter a word of this to anyone bar the Court Physician?”

His eyes flash golden as the servants’ both nod, and they rush off in the direction of the Physician’s chambers. Merlin, satisfied that they will be unable to break their promise, turns next to the guard, momentarily ignoring the way Arthur has shoved the bleeding noble against the stone wall:

“Fetch the Lady Morgana and Guinevere and tell them to go to Gaius and the boy, stay with them, swear that you will inform no one bar those three what has happened?”

The guard nods, understanding the magic implicitly as Merlin’s eyes flash gold again. He spares The King and his deserving victim one last glance before running towards Morgana’s chambers.

Merlin turns, finally, to Arthur, almost-but-not-quite recoiling at the tears on his cheeks as he lands another punch to the noble’s jaw. His face is black and blue at this point, and Merlin pulls Arthur back just as he raises his fist again; he thrashes in his grip, but quickly sags as his breathing deepens. The noble falls to the floor, unconscious in all likelihood, and Merlin clicks his fingers, banishing him to the dungeons with nothing but a shower of golden sparks.

Arthur breathes deeply, leaning all of his weight on Merlin as he clamps his un-bruised hand over his mouth, his wide eyes staring intensely at where the boy had been stood moments before. He doesn’t respond to Merlin’s calls, and with another flash of gold, they disappear, reappearing in Arthur’s bed chamber.

Merlin shoots Mordred a quick message over their mental link as he lowers Arthur to the floor, leaning him against the edge of the bed and moving around to be crouched in front of him. The King’s breathing has gotten dangerously deep and dangerously fast, the tears streaming down his face as his hands clench and unclench around nothing. Merlin quickly intertwines their fingers in an effort to stop Arthur hurting himself, but that just freaks the other man out even more as he desperately scrambles to get away from the contact.

Merlin lets go and moves back, eyes wide and desperate as he watches Arthur bring his knees up to his chest, burying his head in his arms and rocking slightly. His cries are muffled, but Merlin can still hear the heart wrenching sound; the Warlock takes a moment to breath before he stealthily moves around the room, lighting candles, locking the door, and shutting the curtains (bar an inch), before moving back to sit beside Arthur, a foot or so of space between them.

After a few minutes of no change, Merlin starts humming. He can’t remember any of the words, but it’s an old lullaby his mum used to sing when he couldn’t sleep, when he was scared of his own magic and his own friends and every shadow that moved in the dark. Arthur’s breathing slows, though he still hiccups occasionally, and Merlin rests his hand on the stone floor between them: an offer, not a demand.

Arthur doesn’t take it, instead shuffling over to lean his head on Merlin’s shoulder. Merlin freezes, not daring to put his arm around the other man as he continues to hum; he must’ve circled back and restarted the same song six, seven, eight times before Arthur nuzzles in further and sniffs before muttering:

“You’ve a good voice, Merlin.”

Merlin huffs a gentle laugh, leaning his head on top of Arthur’s softly as he quietly replies:

“Runs in the family, my mother used to sing to me, though I don’t really know any other tunes I’m afraid.”

Arthur nods, but doesn’t reply, turning into Merlin’s chest slightly as the Warlock hesitatingly wraps his arms around the other man; he stops being so hesitant when he notices Arthur’s eagerness. Merlin pulls him close, sighing but letting Arthur settle in before he says anything. In the back of his mind, he’s aware of the pain shooting up his spine at being sat on the stone floor for so long, but he decides he doesn’t really care, if this is what Arthur needs.

After a few more minutes, he rubs his cheek into Arthur’s soft hair and speaks, his voice gentle and loving:

“Feeling better?”

Arthur stiffens slightly, but quickly relaxes, nodding into Merlin’s chest and mumbling:

“The boy?”

Merlin smiles at Arthur’s worry:

“Safe. He’s with Gaius, Morgana, and Gwen, under protective guard.”

Arthur nods again, tightening his hold on Merlin’s tunic:

“And his... father?”

“Bloodied up and locked in the dungeons, far away from his son. Mordred let the guards know that he is not to leave under any circumstances, told the council that the meeting had been postponed until further notice, and then went to relieve the guard in the Physician’s chambers.”

The King relaxes, and so does Merlin, though only slightly, he knows that this is where that terrifying conversation has opportunity to rear it’s ugly head:

“Arthur, are we going to talk about this?-”

He rushes to carry on when Arthur’s breath hitches and his hands pull on Merlin’s tunic slightly:

“-You can say no, Arthur. I swear, I will never, ever ask, not if you don’t want me to.”

Arthur doesn’t relax, but he shakes his head, gulping before replying, his voice thick:

“No, it’s fine, I should probably... talk about it, right? Morgana is always on my arse about being less repressed or whatever.-”

Merlin nods, but doesn’t say anything, stroking his fingers through Arthur’s hair rhythmically. Arthur lets out a deep breath, humming contentedly at the gesture and leaning even more into it:

“-My father was... difficult to please. His default was anger, no matter what, and it was... rare, for him to be anything but furious. He never... not in public, and never left marks where anyone could see.-”

Merlin struggles against the urge to hit someone (preferably Uther, though unfortunately he was dead. He supposes Uther’s old supporters would do in a pinch), but he makes do with taking a deep breath:

“-When he was especially furious he would lock me in a storage closet, or the dungeons. He... he would order that all the lights be put out, and all the windows covered, so I couldn’t see. Merlin I couldn’t see anything. I still... I can’t stand the dark, but I’m guess you figured that out?-”

Merlin knows that he’s referring to the candles and the perpetually open curtains and nods, humming in agreement:

“-How pathetic is that? A grown man, a King, afraid of the dark.”

Merlin tightens his grip on Arthur and shakes his head:

“It’s not pathetic, Arthur. It’s an automatic response, a defence mechanism that your brain puts in place to try and protect you from being re-traumatised. To this day, I’m terrified of fire, even though I have no reason to be anymore, even though it can’t hurt me as a Dragon Lord.”

Arthur gulps, but relaxes slightly, though his voice is quiet, almost ashamed as he continues:

“I can’t look at Lancelot’s turned back, I struggle to spar with him as well. He... he doesn’t even look anything like my father, he just... he always wears red and has the same hair as my father when he was younger and they’re the same height. Sometimes I feel like I’m a child again, everything around me just disappears and I’m back in that dungeon, or my father is stood over me screaming. How am I meant to be a good King when I’m scared of my own shadow?”

Merlin sighs, staying silent for a few minutes as he attempts to put an answer together in his mind. Arthur sniffles again, and Merlin is suddenly made aware of the wet patch where Arthur’s head rests on his tunic:

“I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, as many times as you want: you are a wonderful King. You’ve delivered a Golden Age upon this Kingdom, your friends love you, your people adore you. You’ve never just been a good King, Arthur, you’ve been the best this Kingdom, and this world, has ever seen.”

Arthur loosens his grip again but huffs a quiet laugh against Merlin’s chest, which the Warlock definitely counts as a win:

“Kiss-ass.”

Merlin laughs this time, though he doesn’t stop carding his fingers through Arthur’s hair:

“Nah, when have you ever known me to kiss ass? I speak only the truth, My Lord.”

They both fall silent again, and Arthur pulls away from Merlin’s chest. Merlin drops his arms immediately, not wanting to make the other man uncomfortable, but Arthur just takes one of his hands and goes back to sitting by his side, his head resting on Merlin’s shoulder. The silence is long, but comfortable, and it’s dark outside by the time Arthur speaks again:

“Merlin?-”

The Warlock doesn’t make a sound, but squeezes Arthur’s hand in acknowledgement:

“-I thanked you for all the big stuff: saving my life, and saving the Kingdom, and all that. But I never thanked you for the small stuff. The candles and the endless support and the excuses.”

Merlin frowns slightly in confusion, not that Arthur can see:

“Excuses?”

“You didn’t think I didn’t notice, did you? You started years and years ago. You always seemed to notice when being with... with my father, or the knights, or anyone really, was getting too much, you always had some excuse ready. Sometimes you outright lied, even if it would get you in trouble, just to get me away from people. I don’t know how you knew... no one else ever realised. Saying I had paperwork when I didn’t, or a patrol when I wasn’t scheduled for one, or a concussion just to give me some privacy. Thank you.”

Merlin smiles slightly, squeezing Arthur’s hand again:

“You were too busy looking after everyone else, someone had to look after you. I’m grateful it was me, Arthur, I-”

He pauses and sits up slightly straighter, though it doesn’t jostle Arthur too much. He lifts his head anyway, staring at Merlin in concern with tired eyes:

“Merlin?”

Merlin looks to him suddenly, but smiles:

“Hmm, sorry, just Mordred. Updating me on the kid and asking if you’re alright.-”

Arthur’s cheeks flush slightly, but Merlin’s smile grows as he shakes his head:

“-Don’t worry, no one knows about... this, just that you went berserk when you saw a Noble beating his kid, and punched his teeth out.”

Arthur relaxes and nods, humming thoughtfully as he looks to the floor. He stands up, wobbling only slightly after being curled up in the same position on a cold stone floor for several hours, and Merlin follows him confusedly:

“Do... do you want to go check in on them? The kid’s been asking after you apparently, wants to thank you.-”

Arthur looks conflicted, almost as if he were worrying that he wouldn’t actually be welcomed, so Merlin puts a hand on his shoulder and smiles, waiting until Arthur looks at him before continuing:

“-We can leave it until morning, if you like, but you saved that boy, Arthur, there’s nothing to worry about.”

Arthur nods, but doesn’t move until Merlin wipes his face clean with his sleeve and smooths out his clothes. If he uses a little magic to make the two of them more presentable, then neither of them mention it as they walk purposefully to the door.

Merlin looks to Arthur stood next to him, his hand hovering over the door handle:

“Ready?”

Arthur smiles at him, taking his hand and squeezing it, but not dropping it as he opens the door and steps into the corridor:

“Ready.”

THE END!!!

As angsty as it was, I really enjoyed writing that😅. I couldn’t help myself though, I had to give it a happy ending :D

I hope y’all enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it!! I love y’all!!

My Ko-Fi, which is where I post sneak peeks of upcoming works, check it out and consider donating!!

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nctsworld · 3 years

Text

skateboard love

✩‌ yangyang x reader | skater boy!yangyang | college au | fluff | 2.2k

SUMMARY | yangyang tries to get you to skateboard for the first time and in doing so, you’re taken back to when you first met him. // for @notnctu’s beginning collab! WARNINGS | slight injury (reader trips over a curb), one swear word, kissing RATING | teen+ TAGLIST | @infnteen

“I can’t do this,” you mutter, shaking your head in defeat.

The ocean waves clamour nearby as you stare down at the skateboard and concrete pavement beneath your sneakers in frustration.

The weight of your helmet and the wrist guards are blatant in your every movement. Sure, it’s a little embarrassing at your age, but it’d be best to rather be safe than sorry.

Thankfully, they’ve been coming in handy during the times you almost fell and slipped off of your boyfriend’s skateboard. It may have been his idea to try to learn, but you weren’t opposed to it, thinking it’d be easy.

They say things are easier said than done, and now you’re forced to admit skateboarding definitely falls under that list.

“Yes, you can,” Yangyang softly says. Beside you, he gives your hand a gentle squeeze, causing you to peer into his gleaming eyes and bright smile.

Despite the recentness of your relationship, your boyfriend’s patience and encouragement feels like routine, like he’s been by your side for your entire life. His words don’t fall on deaf ears; you parrot his smile and muster a small nod, albeit glancing away shyly.

“Just think about all the times you’ve watched me skate past the library and copy what I did.”

Petulantly, you stick your tongue out. “It wasn’t that often.”

Disbelief reflects back at you in the form of an eyebrow raise.

“Really?”

“Really!”

Around mid-September, in the most modern, glass-structured library on campus, you found a studying area that was perfect for you.

Main floor, nearby the entrance doors for an easy exit when class was about to roll around. A high stool chair that was cushioned comfortably for endless hours of equal parts studying and procrastination. Plugs and desk space galore.

Above all, it was perfect because you had the picturesque view of the boy who always skated every other day around 11:50am towards his next class across the wide stoned boulevard in front of the library.

You noticed him the first few times when you initially sat upstairs. Even from afar and above, your interest was piqued over how coolly he skated past all the students. There were only so many students who biked to their next class, and even less who skateboarded.

And after you decided to sit downstairs for once to finally steal a closer glimpse of him, you were completely smitten upon capturing his handsome features.

Thus, your heart constantly raced in anticipation when 11:50am hit, as students scattered all across campus during this transition period.

With a thumb tucked in his pocket and headphones over his ears to boot, the mystery skater boy often slid past around 11:55am, making your mind wonder where his former class was and where he was going. Was he in Engineering? Arts? Business?

The latter option didn’t seem likely since his style didn’t echo the stereotypical look of the faculty. Dark coloured hoodies and sweaters, bomber jackets, and skinny jeans were his usual choice of fashion, alongside the occasional baseball cap. And on the days he wore his cap backwards, he was truly in his skater element.

No matter, you always swooned with your chin perched atop your fist or resting inside your palm as he passed by. The brief sighting of him easily became the highlight of your day.

You would be lying if you said you didn’t try to look for him in your classes, but to no avail. You had to live with the fact that you’d only get to know him in passing as he skated on by the library.

When the mere hoodies and sweaters were exchanged for heavier, thicker jackets and coats, he still continued to traverse across campus via his unsurprising mode of transportation. You especially admired his dedication on the days filled with rain and wind, wishing there was some way for you to ease his trips to his next class.

All throughout the couple of months, he was consistent in attending that one class.

Except one day.

It was a Friday, about a week or two near finals season. The weather was quite chilly now, but snow wouldn’t be an issue until after winter break and well into the next semester, so there wasn’t any reason for him to not use his skateboard still.

Maybe he was sick at home, you thought. Pouting, you tried not to dwell over the stranger because that’s all what he was.

Someone you didn’t know, someone you only watched from afar. Someone that filled your daydreams, pondering what he’d be like and what’d you two could talk about... but nevertheless a stranger.

Oddly enough, about an hour past noon, someone dragged you out of your thoughts momentarily as they unusually sat nearby your spot.

The unspoken library etiquette was to sit as far away from others for more personal space, especially in the area where you frequented. You tried your best to ignore the shuffling of the person placing their laptop and books onto the elongated wall-length table, feigning laser-focus on your notes.

But a few moments later, you heard a whisper coming from their direction.

“Is this your favourite spot in the library?”

“Hm?” you hummed, dragging your headphones down to your shoulders as you swivelled towards the seated stranger. Air seized in your lungs and your eyebrows shot up.

The gorgeous skater boy glowed with rosy cheeks from the cold air outside, paired with his stunning smile. You realized this was the first time you’ve ever seen him smile—preciously, by the way, with his teeth on full display—and your heart stirred like crazy.

A beat stretched out. Your jaw hung in shock and you blinked blankly. Guess you solved the mystery as to where he was today.

He beamed more intensely at your awe struck and continued to whisper, “I always see you sitting here when I get to my next class.”

“Uhm,” your jaw snapped up, prior to your dry gulp. “What?”

“Yeah,” his deep chuckling tickled your ear. God, of course a smooth voice matched a face like that. “you stare out the window so cutely whenever I pass by the library.”

A record scratched, then you rewound the moment in your head. Not only did he knew you existed but...

Did he just called you cute?

Catching on with awareness over his own words, the skater boy pouted to one side. His cheek jutted out adorably and red seemed to crawl over them, progressing over to the tips of his ears too.

Light giggling from both parties filled the space, with you tucking your hair behind your ear and him tugging on the ends of his sweater paws.

“So, are you skipping class?” you asked, tilting your head curiously.

“Yeah,” he replied, gesturing towards his busy study set-up ahead of him. It was a similar scene to yours—notes layered and layered upon each other, a laptop which displayed more notes, and a few textbooks were open too. “When you need to skip a class to study for another class...”

You nodded sympathetically, pointing a finger to your organized mess to imply the same. “Finals season.”

He nodded as well in unity and you two exchanged another round of smiles.

“I’m Yangyang.”

With that, introductions were made and bits of information were shared. Your hunch was right—he was in Engineering, but he also had some elective labs that were being held in the Science side of campus. Made sense why he had to navigate across campus from one end to the other.

Before the conversation began to get carried away, he issued a small apology. “Sorry, I really shouldn’t be interrupting your studying. I’ll leave you be.”

Admittedly, it caught you off guard. You wanted to pipe up about how he wasn’t interrupting, that you wanted to dive into getting to know him more. You’ve seen him practically almost every day for the last couple of months and you didn’t want to let this chance slip through your fingers.

Yet, at the same time, you begrudgingly knew he was right. You had to study for your upcoming in-class final, so you held your thoughts back and unwillingly turned back to your responsibility at hand.

It was difficult to study with skater boy being in the same vicinity as you—practically an arm’s length away from you—but you eventually tampered down your jitters and honed your attention.

Hours passed. Neither of you really shifted much besides the casual stretching or the much needed break to the bathroom.

Darkness loomed in the winter sky and out of the corner of your eye, you noticed him writing, which he hadn’t done during the time he’d been there.

And then, after an ear-piercing slow rip of paper that echoed in the library, he slid that piece of paper in your direction with one simple question that ignited the spark for the beginning of you and him—

I know we just met, but do you want to go out sometime?

“’Cause if I recall...” Yangyang continues, breaking you away from your bout of reminiscing. He absentmindedly tucks away some loose strands of hair sticking out of your helmet. “You watched me at least since the beginning of last semester—”

“Nu-uh,” you cut in, lying in a childish tone.

“Yuh-huh,” he rebuttals.

Under the warm afternoon sunlight, you two begin to have a staring contest, squinting and playfully seething at one another. When your boyfriend squints harder with a ruffle of his nose, you follow suit. Eventually, you give in with a sigh.

“Okay, fine. Even if I did watch you a lot, it doesn’t mean I can just absorb your skateboarding skills through memory.”

Cockiness fades over his joking exterior as he flashes you a shit-eating grin. “It’s cause you were too busy focusing on my handsome face.”

Becoming second nature for you by now as he’s often like this, you roll your eyes and lightly punch him in the arm, but... he isn’t wrong.

And from your lack of an articulate response, Yangyang knows he’s right.

Sparing you from injuring your pride further, he swings the conversation back to what you were doing here in the first place.

A hand of his steadies you by the bottom of your back. “Balancing feels weird, I know, but you’ll get the hang of it. Let’s try again.”

Releasing a lengthy exhale, your head bounces fervently in hopes that false confidence and your boyfriend’s support can morph into a successful skateboard run.

The careful push he gives you is ample enough to have you ride down the street by yourself. Your body wavers side by side and you fear that you’ll teeter to a stop like all the other times, but somehow, your foot swipes across the pavement, carrying you further down the street.

It’s not fast by any means, but as you persistently execute it, you gain traction and see yourself finally riding without any issues.

“Yangyang, I got it. I got it!” you shriek as you quickly glance back towards him.

He radiates in response and gets lost in you, equally proud that you finally found your balance and basking in how stunning you look as you coast down the beach side street.

However, his trance breaks when he sees you’re about to hit the edge of a street curb.

“Babe, watch ou—”

The scene happens fast. You’re suddenly laying on a patchy part of the grass, with the skateboard by your feet. Yangyang bolts to you, hunching down as he daintily tugs you to sit upward.

“You okay?” he pants nervously.

At first, you nod without a thought since the helmet and wrist guards have saved you from any potential major injuries.

However, your boyfriend’s eyes widen when out of nowhere, you draw in air between clenched teeth. Your butt feels as if it’s on fire, since it was actually the body part that mostly broke your fall.

He suggests to sit here for a while to let the pain dissipate, reassuring you’ll be fine from his own past experiences.

As you rest awkwardly beside him on the grass, placing weight on your hip rather than your rear end, he aids you in ridding of your safety gear. Once they’re off, he kisses your hand tenderly.

“Maybe we should leave the skateboarding to me, for now,” he mumbles softly into your skin, leaving another kiss upon your hand.

You mope in agreement. “Maybe so...”

Caressed in his arms, you link eyes with him. Your eyes flutter to a close while he delicately eases you into him by the back of your neck.

The intense pressing of his lips against yours feels heavenly, almost entirely sedating your mild pain. He kisses you deeper, disregarding everyone and everything in proximity. You reciprocate it all back eagerly, cupping his cheek and gripping onto his strong frame as you do so.

Peeling away breathlessly, you tip your forehead against his. “Should we go back to the library and have me watch you longingly from our old spot?”

Yangyang hurriedly shakes his head.

“Nope. Never again,” he replies, his thumb stroking your cheek. “If you’re watching me skateboard, you’ll be doing it by my side from now on, beautiful.”

A chuckle trickles from you. You’re about to retort back, but your one and only skater boy diverts your train of thought, dragging you in for another long, blissful kiss.

#yangyang x reader #yangyang fluff #yangyang fanfic #yangyang imagines #nct fluff #nct imagines #nct fanfic #wayv fluff #wayv imagines #wayv fanfic #yn brainrot #beginningscollab

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saphirered · 3 years

Note

Percy and Bad first times? I love these asks thank you!

I do not know why it took me approximately an eternity to write this but I finished it. I hope it will have been worth the wait. 😘

(Percy)

The moment Percy walked into your life you thought he was very much the egotistical rich kid. First impressions weren’t great as he concluded that wether or not you came from money or status, you rebelled against the social norms of high society. You two were polar opposites and anyone who said opposites attract; you were the proof against that claim for the longest time.

At the realisation you wouldn’t be leaving any time soon Percy tried to school you in manners for his sake correcting your behaviour and even words like you were some insolent child. You did not take this well and the argument that followed, unavoidable. Many things were said, some neither of you are proud of and you didn’t speak for days unless it were some snide remarks.

Then it came to a job to interact with high society people and you got to show Percy how wrong he was as you properly addressed the people, held your posture correctly and picked every word eloquently. Taken aback by your complete 180 in behaviour a conversation was in order. You got the pleasure telling Percy his ‘lessons’ had nothing to do with this and unlike some people you’d rather not be a pompous ass with a superiority complex like some people.

This lead Percy to dive into some research trying to find your name and family name, tapping into all resources at his disposal to figure you out telling himself you might be a threat if you were hiding things. He was not prepared to find out what happened with your family and faced you with the fact he found your past. The first one on one you had was Percy quite literally cornering you so you couldn’t avoid him. Admittedly not his proudest moment. You needed to talk so talk you did.

Telling Percy your story and trusting him with it might have been the first time you’ve told anyone since you left your home. In turn to set the record straight he told you what had happened with his own family. You came to the conclusion you’re not so different after all. A mutual understanding and trust formed between the two of you, though your arguments did not end with you disagreed on a matter. Rarely did you give the other the silent treatment and instead came to an agree-to-disagree conclusion if compromise was not an option. In time, they’d cease to be arguments all together and simply turn into conversations.

At this point you might even have considered yourselves friends. You found yourselves spending more time together. Percy was raised the so-mani-eth child extremely unlikely to be the heir of his family but with the tragedy that befell them, only he and his sister remained. You were raised to continue your family’s legacy but had lost everything. When Whitestone was returned to the surviving De Rolo’s you promised to give aide in any way you could.

Vox Machina, taken in a different direction you stayed behind with Cassandra. You took no titles or lands no matter how many times, Cassandra and the council offered them. In his time away from you and his home he came to realise he’d begun missing your company, the conversations and having to be the smart and semi-responsible one of the group. Not only that, you’ve been a rock in the current that’s his chaos and with you away he feels he’s more likely to fall to the temptations placed in front of him. Proof of that; the trip to the city of Dis.

When this realisation hits Percy he’ll take any opportunity to spend more time with you. He doesn’t inject himself into your daily life but any time there’s a reason for him to be present he’ll take it. Him coming clean about the contract and handing it to you for safekeeping trusting you that no matter the circumstance you’ll never give it to him, you absolutely go apeshit on him. How could he be so damn stupid. A deal with a devil? Really?! All the what ifs… It made you realise your anger and disappointment came from a place of affection.

You made Percy promise he’d tell you when he’s thinking of doing something stupid he’ll tell you before doing the thing. Before he leaves for another adventure or comes back from one you’ll go on a walk, have dinner or just relax somewhere. Sometimes you’ll talk, sometimes sit in silence, whatever you feel like in that moment. You’d begun holding hands, hugging or a kiss to the cheek before departure or upon return, tiny displays of affection.

You were informed Percy had died, but as Grog told you, he got better. Reasonably so you freaked out but you were also aware of the risk of the adventurer lifestyle, more accurately the lifestyle of someone with enemies like Percy. That didn’t mean you didn’t feel like your heart just shattered in that moment. You cared for Percy until he recovered. It’s the first time you truly saw Percy weak, not of mind wavering to a pact with an entity or the likes, but mentally done.

Percy first realised he might hold more than affections for you when you promised him that you’d always have one more thing for him to do. No matter how messed up the world looked, there’d always be a place for him with you. He’s not stupid enough to think this doesn’t come out of a deep affection of your own but he can’t be too sure it’s love either. It’s obvious you care for him, and maybe you do love him but are you in love with him? He’s not sure. Is he in love with you? He’s unsure. He knows he cares about you immensely and loves you just as much and that’s enough for him.

Percy is a man of impulse. This comes in especially handy when someone lacks courage to do something. He doesn’t approach you for your first ‘official’ date. It was just like any other outing you’d gone on or time you spent together except for the fact Percy asked you out, letting slip it was a date. If just asking you this was already so difficult he definitely would need a bottle of courage or two admitting his feelings out loud.

You’re clever enough and know how to read people enough that you weren’t oblivious to Percy’s recent changes in behaviour towards you. You were also clever enough to place them and, when courage fails you’re not one to beat around the bush. You called him out and half fearing you’d turn him down, he was proven the opposite when you pulled him in by the ascot and kissed him. Surprising but not unwanted.

Seeing no need in defining your relationship for others, you also didn’t ease the others into this development. Watching you kiss Percy passionately before he was off on another adventure leaving everyone around very surprised. So surprised they missed the mark on Keyleth’s transport via plants. Bombarded with questions about when or how this happened Percy didn’t want to indulge them with answers and instead spent more time with you.

Of course you had shared sleeping spaces before. You weren’t strangers to sharing a bed but you can comfortably say, it became much more comfortable after you first shared your bed together as lovers in the afterglow, waking up like a sweaty mess. Sharing baths after became the norm to freshen up and relax. The perfect excuse to spend more time together and have everyone else gagging after the look you’d share when asked why you missed breakfast… and lunch…

It took a long while before you first found yourselves able to exchange I love you’s but when danger came knocking at your door and you were thrown back into the fight for Tal’Dorei with Vox Machina’s allies it was now or never. Seeing things go south you got the pleasure of teaming up with a brass dragon to kick some undead ass.

“Before we both do something incredibly stupid I want you to know I love you.” Simple and efficient and to the point.

“I am tempted to hold these words for myself until after we’ve saved the world. Call it motivation to stay alive but since you made such an effort already. I love you too, dear.” Asshole. What did you expect. The feeling was mutual.

(Caduceus)

The first time you met Caduceus you’d killed someone in not too far out from Shady Creek. The down side, you killed someone important. They came after you, you protected yourself but then you had a body to deal with. You heard about the cursed place, and decided to just bury it there. You didn’t expect to find a dopey pink haired firbolg to be living at the heart of the place. He was surprisingly helpful in burying the body you brought to the point you were almost sure you’d be buried right next to your victim soon. Luckily for you you were proven wrong.

You couldn’t really return to Shady Creek and it’s not like you had much of a home there so you wandered the forests hunting and gathering for food and warmth at night avoiding the cursed places and dangers as much as you could. You couldn’t and returned to the safety of the Blooming Grove. So you made a deal, you’d stay with the firbolg, help him out at his graveyard, cemetery, whatever it is and he’d give you a place to sleep at night.

You resorted to staying inside the small temple sleeping on the floor but soon enough, Caduceus invited you to just take one of the beds in the house and stick around instead of leave at dawn to find food, removing some weeds, watering some plants, and return at dusk. No more wandering you fell into more domestic tasks solidifying your roommate life with the man. It had been a while since either of you were in (good) company so you appreciated anything that could talk and wasn’t trying to murder you.

In your time spent with Caduceus you heard bits and pieces about his family but what didn’t add up for you were the beds and belongings he didn’t touch or did so with care to keep them clean. When you got the courage to ask Caduceus told you the story of Clay, Stone and Dust and how his family left to save the Grove and perhaps even the Savalirwood as a whole. It felt odd to actually talk to someone about them that’s not him to himself. He appreciated your compassion, telling him that they’d come back home and with the stories he told you hope you’d get to meet them one day.

Caduceus’ expert prepping of meals left you wanting to be able to do the same. Of course he was happy to teach you and with his guidance you cooked your first meal. It wasn’t the best but definitely beat anything you could make on the road by yourself. The spices are to die for. You found yourself falling into the habit of cooking together; a nice way to end the day.

You were having a particularly tough day and ready to just curl up and let the world consume you, there was no hiding from your friendly firbolg roommate. He knew what’s up but gave you a chance to come to him. You didn’t so he came to you. He didn’t say anything, just sat next to you with a cup of tea, set another one in front of you and stayed quiet until you were ready to talk or get back to your business if you didn’t. He wasn’t going to pry in personal matters unless you asked him.

An encounter with a nasty creature you were unable to scare off and away had Caduceus pinned to the ground. With enough courage and some knowledge of physical combat you managed to get the creature off and injure it enough so it fled. Pulling Caduceus to his feet you were engulfed in a hug with a thank you. As is common knowledge Caduceus hugs are the best hugs you found yourself asking for more. Caduceus wasn’t at all opposed to keep this a thing as he’d always enjoyed hugs.

With the two of you growing closer, living together you decided to sit down and talk about what you had and where it was going as neither of you wanted to accidentally lead on the other or set expectations that could not be met. Neither of you were looking for romantic love or romance at all. Some might refer to you as bestest of friends or life partners but that didn’t really seem to fit. You’re just you and Caduceus is him and you liked hugging and spending time together, going through the motions of life and that’s all you needed.

When the Nein came along looking for help, Caduceus offered for you to stay behind, the Blooming Grove was just as much your home as it was his but you went along anyway. You’d never left the forest. Never travelled south either but many adventures found their way to you and you’d be spending them with you with Caduceus through all the ups and downs. The Nein got so used to your dynamic they never questioned it. It was just something that existed and was happening and quite frankly, one of the few normal things about you and the firbolg.

When the day came you found the Clay family you got to be there for Caduceus as he had for you. Meeting them for the first time they lived up to the stories you’d been told. The Clays were very happy to meet Caduceus’ friends but upon learning about your connection to him they were relieved he hadn’t been all alone for all those years they were gone and had some company. They offered you to come back with them but just like Caduceus, there was still some unfinished business and these people, the Mighty Nein still needed your help.

Then, when everything came to a close, you returned to the Blooming Grove and spent the rest of your days there living content. It had been your home and would continue to be your home. The Clays became your family and for the first time in forever you could see yourself content at home leaving with Caduceus to travel at times but always return to that little spot in the Savalirwood.

#critrole x reader #critical role x reader #mighty nein x reader #mighty nein #caduceus x reader #caduceus clay #critical role #percival x reader #percy x reader #vox machina x reader #vox machina

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draggingthedregs · 3 years

Note

Hello! I love your writing so much! Can you write some kanej with Kaz being protective of Inej? If not that’s completely fine :) thank u!

a/n: okay so I always really struggle with “protective Kaz” things because I feel like he knows that she can most definitely take care of herself and he respects her for that. So this is what I came up with to try and meet in the middle. There’s that scene in Six of Crows where Kaz sends Inej to get rid of Rojakke (is that how you spell it? Idk he was in one scene, his name is not the point) and then when they’re back in his office that night he asks like “Did he put up a fight?” and she says “Nothing I couldn’t handle” and he says “Not what I asked” so thats where the idea for this came from, thank you bye.

word count: 2634

There was something about the floor of the Crow Club that set Kaz at ease.

Its endless cacophony of coins bouncing from table to floor, the spinning of Makkers Wheel, the laughter floating onto the street, and, his personal favorite, the flipping that only accompanied a deck of cards. Somedays he thought he’d be content to shuffle at a table forever.

It was then that Inej pushed through the entryway, shaking off the rain that rarely ceased to pour over the crowded city. She pulled her hood down, her inky hair braided into a long rope laying against her shoulder. Kaz traced every inch of her, as he often did when she entered a room: the slope of her nose, the smile she flashed to the greetings shouted in her direction, the knives strapped to her hips. He tried to ignore the voice in the back of his head that reminded him he’d also be content to be with her forever.

There were times he hated the things that he would notice, hated how his brain slipped past the innocent intention of watching to a sinister place of touch and consequence. He flipped the thoughts over in his head, studying them from every angle like he would a card trick, trying to mold them into different pictures. But the images froze in place anyway; the feel of her skin against his burned like fire, even in an illusion.

Most of all, he hated that he couldn’t force these delusions into reality, couldn’t touch her how he wanted, couldn’t force the bile down and only feel Inej’s warmth.

As she approached him, nodding to the private game rooms at the back of the club, giving him a clear view of her, he saw that something was amiss. Scarlet bloomed through her vest and onto her sleeve, trailing down to her thigh. He followed her, shutting the heavy door behind them and turning its complex series of locks. She’s upright. That’s all you should care about.

“The Exchange was crawling with Stadwatch. Security must be tight since the incident.”

“Did they see you?”

Inej practically scoffed, leaning her weight against the wooden table. “No. But I’m sure they’ll find someone who fits their bill. You know as well as I do, the council will want this quieted soon.”

Kaz nodded. Two weeks ago, the Exchange had been robbed, and though it was never publicly released, Kaz knew exactly what was stolen. After all, he had all the stocks and shipment papers locked in his safe as they spoke.

Roeder had been the one to pull off the job originally, this being one of the few things Kaz had required a spider for while she was busy at sea. He had done a mediocre job, but he was sloppy with locks and leaving the place as he’d found it. Going back to the scene of the crime seemed too risky a gamble but when Inej returned, she knew she could scrape it. And Kaz wasn’t going to start doubting the Wraith’s abilities now.

He flipped through the file she handed him. To anyone else, it may have looked useless, just pages and pages of numbers and times, scratchy handwritten tables filled with nonsense. But to him, and to a mercher with half a whit, this was key to investing. With the talleys and dates in hand, he would know what shipments to bank on and where to place his shares for the next few months.

“As always, the Wraith pulls through.”

Inej nodded and pulled her hood up once more. “You’re welcome.”

Kaz gave her another once over, slower than intended. “What happened?” He blurted, his voice sounding like a low growl in his throat.

Inej looked down at herself, brows knitted, studying the blood on her trousers. “Bullet or two from a guard just shooting at shadows.” With her brief summary of events, she took her weight off the table, readying herself for the journey back into the wet.

Kaz felt a sinking in his chest at the thought of her walking away from him, even if it was just to her apartment, and he hated himself for it. Now especially with her covered in blood, he couldn’t stomach the thought of her leaving. Without meaning to, he had taken himself back to before she had left.

It had been Inej’s last night before heading to sea when they had tried to pretend they were normal, that there wasn’t still so much between them. Kaz sat next to her on his bed, bad leg out in front of him, avoiding her gaze.

“We don’t have to do this at all.”

But he did. Kaz had to prove that he had come further than this. I can best this…

When she set sail the next morning, the feeling of failure settled deep within him, right beside the feeling that this time, he may never get her back from the sea.

Now, he couldn’t help but stop her. “Inej-” he began.

She turned, her hand resting on the doors heavy handle.

He made up the steps between them to stand beside her. Kaz forced himself to give any semblance of explanation, knowing that he’d promised to give her what she deserved and knowing that he was currently failing. “Let me walk with you.”

Inej nodded, dropping her hand as Kaz unlocked the door and opened it for her. He felt awkward, and quite frankly stupid; opening it as if she was some pretty girl that couldn’t handle the difference between whether to push or pull. She strided through anyway and he followed, silently cursing himself and hoping the grimace on his face looked normal for his temperament. Once they’d made it to the street, she slowed to walk beside him.

At first, neither of them spoke. Then, in her gentle and hushed tone, perhaps to avoid his inevitable questions about her evening, “Am I getting a personal escort through the Barrel?”

Kaz needn’t look down to feel the smile in her voice. “Is that what you’d prefer to call it?”

“It isn’t exactly an evening stroll down the canal, is it?”

“I suppose not.” He cringed at the sound of his own rasp, smashing against the lift of her voice like waves against stone. Though from what he could tell, she didn’t do the same. Inej only shrugged, tugging her hood forward against the drizzle.

“I only meant that I should feel lucky to get the King of the Barrel to myself for the night.”

Kaz thought he might keel over. “I am a busy man, but I still find time to survey my kingdom.”

Inej only rolled her eyes and kept her gaze straight forward. A moment of silence nestled between them, leaving only the sound off the East Stave hanging in the air. After fighting with himself for what seemed like far too long, his gaze settled atop her.

“Yes?”

Kaz swallowed hard, “Did you miss Ketterdam?” Did you miss me?

She considered his question, and to him, the silence stretched through the air like a rubber band about to break.

“I did. More than I thought I would.” Inej finally relented. Her voice had drifted to a somber place, a quiet stillness replacing the humor she’d had minutes before.

They had turned down a back alley, the darkness consuming them in sore contrast to the dazzling lights of the Stave. Their footsteps echoed in a syncopated rhythm, his awkward gait and cane paired with her near-soundless steps.

Maybe it was the high of having her back, walking next to him through Ketterdam as they’d done so many times before, but he hadn’t realized the direction they’d been walking. They approached the Slat, its crooked frame jutting out from the foundation at a welcoming tilt. He glanced down to Inej once more, watching as she took in the building, trying to see it through her eyes, as he wished to see much of the world.

“Is the Captain afraid of her old nest?”

If he had intended it as a jab, she didn’t take it as such. Inej shook her head once, “It just feels like home…”

She moved before he did, taking a deep breath of the stale air inside as she stepped through the threshold. There was movement, as there always was, but the Slat was quiet this time of night and Kaz was thankful. It meant that, selfishly, he could keep Inej upstairs and to himself for as long as he could come up with things to talk about. Perhaps they’d even sit on his bed and she would allow him to make up for the last time they’d found themselves there.

Kaz marveled at her as she took the creaky stairs ahead of him, the steps creaking beneath his weight after seemingly not registering her. His eyes once again wandered to the blood stains that covered her. He felt a hair-pin trigger go off in his chest and suddenly, there was anger.

Stop that. She isn’t yours to save.

Inej waited for him to open the door, sidestepping as they both now stood on the landing. If Kaz hadn’t just been studying her, he might have missed her change in demeanor and the way she shifted her weight to the wall behind her.

“Inej.”

“Hm?”

Kaz attempted to even his tone. “How bad are they?”

“What?”

His voice sounded like stones grinding against one another, “The bullet wounds.”

She shrugged but he could see the stress of the evening in her features. Her limbs seemed heavy and her eyelids fought to open with every blink. With a shove, Kaz unlocked his office door, forcing the warped wood open and, without hesitation, Inej followed him in, taking in the room as she clicked the locks back into place.

He leaned his cane against the makeshift desk and shucked his gloves off as he approached the cabinet beneath his wash basin, digging through its drawers for gauze and shears. Behind him, he heard the familiar creak of his window opening. The smell of rain against the cobblestones wafted toward him.

“Your window seat has felt neglected. Your crows too.”

“Does that mean you stopped feeding them while I was gone?”

No. They reminded me of you. I couldn’t let another piece of you go. “They’re scavengers. I’m sure they managed.”

It was then that Kaz turned to see her standing by his bed. Inej looked up, her cheeks flushing red like she’d been caught doing something she shouldn’t have been. He only walked over, setting the bandages on the thin mattress. “So I don’t have to find a heartrender for you.”

“They really aren’t that bad-”

“You’ve bled through your clothes. They’re bad enough.”

Inej cleared her throat as she began removing layers of knives and clothes. Kaz’s eyes roved over her, the pounding in his chest growing louder. He hated it.

Her arms and shoulders were covered in fresh scars, some of them still red and scabbed, and the bruises on her ribs were still deep purple.

“Slavers don’t give up their cargo easily.” Inej’s voice came out with caution, as if she was waiting to see his reaction.

His gaze met hers, voice carving into the air like a rusted blade. “Where are they all now?”

“Dead.”

A sense of pride cracked through him as a rare smile settled on his lips. Kaz nodded. “Good.”

She picked up a strip of bandage, wrapping it around the bullet wound on her bicep, silence filling the space between them. Inej didn’t need to look up to feel the weight of his eyes on her. A flush crept to the tops of her ears. “I didn’t want you to see.”

It was rare for Kaz Brekker to be confused and yet, here he was.

“I thought you might kill someone. Or start to doubt that I could handle myself.”

“I could never doubt you. Only a fool would.” It was only after he said it that he realized it had been aloud.

Inej tied off the bandage then glanced down to the blood on her pants.

“I can-”

“No.” She said, finally making eye contact with him again. “Stay.”

For his sake and hers, Kaz turned his head to avoid staring as she shimmied out of the bloodied fabric.

She sat on the edge of the bed and poked around for any bullet fragments, the muscles in her thigh tensing, the dried blood on her skin looking black. Inej was just as strong as ever; all her limbs built of corded muscle coated in the lithe grace of an acrobat, just as he remembered. Despite his better judgement, Kaz took a long look at her.

It’s shame that eats men whole. He could feel it gnawing at him as he attempted to push away the image of her bare thighs against his sheets.

“Kaz, can you-?” She nodded to the scissors, her hands stuck at an awkward angle around her leg, the apprehension on her face clear.

He picked them up and took a deep breath before sitting down beside her. When he leaned over, he was careful not to touch her. Her breath stirred the hair on the back of his neck. One turn of his head and their lips would have been inches apart. This reminded him far too much of the hotel washroom; he only hoped it would end better.

Kaz cut the bandage gently, taking the end from her and tying it, his knuckles grazing against her skin. Panic hit him before anything else, afraid he had overstepped. It took him a moment to realize there was no revulsion roiling through him.

“Inej-”

“It’s alright… Thank you.”

He nodded, grabbing what was left of the bandages and the shears and placing them on top of his dresser. Then he opened one of his drawers, rummaging through the mess of clothes until he found what he had been looking for.

Kaz handed her a pair of cotton sleep trousers. “I can’t imagine yours are salvageable.”

Inej smiled, sliding them over her legs. They were huge on her. And though they hadn’t discussed her sleeping arrangements for the evening, it appeared she would be staying there.

He sat back down, staring at his bare hands; the hands that had just graced her without trouble or hesitation. She reached over, threading her fingers through his, and studied him, watching for the shift. But it never came.

“Will you lay with me?”

At that, he looked up.

In front of him was a girl who deserved so much more than Dirtyhands. A girl who made the sea cower and made the sun look dull. A girl who could have done anything she wished in life with ease and grace. And yet- she was sat in his bed, holding his hand, and patiently waiting for the semblances of affection he could provide.

Kaz felt himself nod.

She pushed herself back until she was against the wooden headboard. They both moved slowly, carefully placing their limbs so there was no overlap.

Then, he was laying beside her; both of their heads turned to study each other.

“Thank you.” Inej’s voice nearly a whisper.

The minutes stretched into hours, and Kaz lay listening to her breathing. I will have you without armor.

Well after twelve bells, the cadence of sleep seemed to grab hold of him, weighing heavy on his body. As his eyes drifted shut, he hoped that there would be more nights like this: nights with Inej close by his side and stillness in his mind.

He reached for her hand in the dark and promised he would not let go come morning. He would never let go of her again.

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tanoraqui · 3 years

Text

There actually are enough good fics about postcanon tentative reforging of assorted pairs and even the whole of the Gusu Summer School No Brain Cell Trio to satisfy my niche itch, so pls enjoy these stray snippets of a fic I don't have to write:

Nothing would've happened if the cultivation conference wasn't at Cloud Recesses. But it was, Cloud Recesses with its pale stone and gracefully winding walkways and too many memories, including Lan Xichen sitting the whole thing out in seclusion somewhere... If it'd been at the Unclean Realm, Nie Huaisang would've been busy and if it'd been at Carp Tower the memories only would've been manageably bad, and if it was Lotus Pier or one of many smaller sects, it would've been...fine. Just fine.

But it was Cloud Recesses this year, this first conference since Jin Guangyao's downfall, and specifically it was half past ten at night, and Nie Huaisang was wandering the elegant pathways with a mostly full jar of wine in one hand. The previous jar, now entirely empty, had been left back in his room. He was a Nie, so he was only half as drunk as he'd always used to pretend at these things - but at least twice as drunk as he'd ever actually been.

After da-ge's death, of course. Before that, he used to get plenty drunk. Playfully drunk. With friends.

It would be a terrible idea for him to go appear on Lan Xichen's doorstep. Neither of them was ready for that yet.

So he appeared on Jiang Cheng's.

[ . . . ]

"Fine." Nie Huaisang pouted and turned. "I'll go ask Wei-xiong - "

And Jiang Cheng was easy, he was so easy, he'd always been easy, the only new thing is the faintest edge of wariness to his fury -

He grabbed Nie Huaisang's elbow in a flash and snapped, "Ugh, fine, I'll go - but I'm holding the wine."

Nie Huaisang laughed and handed it over. Jiang Cheng immediately took a deep swig.

[ . . . ]

It must've been a quiet night at the Jingshi. Wei Wuxian's sleeping robes didn't look the least bit hastily pulled on, and his lips were only the slightest bit red and puffy.

[ . . . ]

[for the record, this takes place in a book-show postcanon fusion wherein immediately post-Guanyin Temple, WWX and LWJ ran off to fuck in the bushes at least once a day for as long as possible, but in their absence, various sect leaders voted that Lan Wangji should be Chief Cultivator now, and alas some messenger caught up with them about six months into their honeymoon. Definitely caught them in flagrante delicto. Tragic for all. I’d probably communicate all this hereish somehow. It was definitely NHS who finally tipped someone off on how to actually find them.]

[ . . . ]

"Yes, yes, I'm coming," Wei Wuxian said, with a lidded look at Nie Huaisang, and Nie Huaisang burst into a giggles because the two most unequivocally lethal people he knew were afraid to leave each other alone with him, and it was satisfying to be recognized but also what's he going to do, personally? Cry at them? It'd taken him years to destroy Jin Guangyao, and at this point it'd take him months, if not years again to re-destroy the Yiling Patriarch, much less Sandu Shengshou. Especially when they both kept doing things like watching each others backs while pretending they weren't.

[ . . . ]

"Of course we need more!" Wei Wuxian declared. "This isn't even Emperor's Smile!"

[ . . . ]

"It's just a rat or something," Jiang Cheng scoffed.

"So?!" Wei Wuxian cried grandly. "Are we not noble cultivators? Is it not our duty to investigate this woman's complaint, and to slay whatever monster plagues her good inn’s wonderful cellar, whether deathly or monstrous or rodential it be?" He turned to Nie Huaisang and begged, "Help me out, Nie-xiong. You agree with me, right?"

Nie Huaisang clutched his cup against his chest, eyes wide, and shook his head in sharp jerks. "I don't know! I don't know!"

Wei Wuxian laughed and elbowed him in the side.

[ . . . ]

[while waiting for Wei Wuxian to send some sort of signal]

"You know I don't bear any grudge against Jin Ling, right?"

Jiang Cheng's impatient glare snapped to him, darkening with threat; his hand shifted on Sandu's hilt toward a drawing position. "What?"

"I don't bear any sort of grudge against Jin Ling," Nie Huaisang repeated, holding only the last jar of Emperor's Smile. "That's why you've been side-eyeing me all night, right? All conference." He took another sip (it really was the best!) and added recklessly, "If I wanted Jin Ling dead and disgraced, or all Carp Tower burned to ash, they already would be."

Sandu slid an inch out of its scabbard and Nie Huaisang watch it with fascinated curiosity. From a greater distance, he wondered if that was entirely healthy.

"What about Lotus Pier?" Jiang Cheng asked abruptly.

It took Nie Huaisang a blinking moment to focus on him.

"What about Lotus Pier?"

Jiang Cheng sat beside him on the cold earth and yanked the jar out of his hands, cruelly before Nie Huaisang could take another sip.

"Where's your grand terrible vengeance against me and mine? I get it, but if you're being honest for once right now, you could at least tell me when it's going to hit, and how."

"What?" Nie Huaisang pushed himself against his tree trunk, genuinely confused. "Why would i have a terrible vengeance planned against you?"

"I benefitted from Nie Mingjue's death, didn't I?" Jiang Cheng took another swig of wine of his own, and swung the jar illustratively. "My disciples have hunted in your territory while you 'weren't paying attention.' I absolutely fleeced you in that trade deal four years ago. And I worked with that bastard as much as anyone but Lan Xichen, especially on those damn watchtowers, and you broke him. So when's it my turn?" He pointed at Nie Huaisang, finger only wavering slightly. “If you fuck with Jin Ling, Wei Wuxian, or my sect, I will fuck you back.”

"You- oh, gimme that. Gimme. Gimme!" Nie Huaisang leaned forward and tried to grab the wine jar, and more importantly whined until Jiang Cheng handed it to him.

He stared at it for a moment, thrust it back and ordered, “Drink,” without letting it go, and once Jiang Cheng had dutifully tilted it back, pulled it back and slugged down the last swallows. He needed more alcohol for this much honesty, and so did Jiang Cheng.

He set the jar down very carefully, because the ground seemed to be moving, and leaned forward with even more care. He enunciated clearly, “Everyone fleeced me, and hunted in my territory, and I acsh- ass- let them. Why would I expect you to go looking for trouble with Jin Guangyao, when he had your heart locked in a box in his treasure room?”

Jiang Cheng, who was a respected master of all five arts but probably hadn’t actually read poetry for fun since an instructor had officially declared him as such, and who was himself at least a full wine jar in, squinted in angry confusion.

Nie Huaisang rolled his eyes. “He had final say over where and how Jin Ling spent his time, and could’ve tried to poison him against you. What would you have even have done if I had come complaining?”

Jiang Cheng’s face only fell further, with the very sort of drunken moroseness Nie Huaisang was out here to avoid.

Nie Huaisang attempted to swap him sharply. He failed on both the swap and the sharpness.

“Stoppit! Stop thinking you’re not useful! You weren’t! I needed to pry er-ge away from him and for that only Lan Wangji would work, and I needed someone to watch his back through thick and deadly thin, and to be so disruptive that even Meng Yao couldn’t...circle, sneaky, planning...”

They were waiting for the pulse of a light talisman from the other tunnel entrance, half a mile away. There was a small but very bright explosion. laced with resentful as well as spiritual energy.

“Motherfucker!” Jiang Cheng cursed, leaping to his feet and drawing Sandu in one hideously coordinated motion.

“Just Lan Wangji, I think,” Nie Huaisang said, because Nie Mingjue himself couldn’t have stopped him. He groped for his own weapons - fan, check; wine jar -

“Oh no!”

“What?” Jiang Cheng snapped, as he bent and dragged Nie Huaisang to his feet with one hand. (Hideously coordinated. Sword people, honestly...)

“He’s going to be so mad that we finished the wine without him!”

[ . . . ]

[three grown-ass men, two sect leaders and one Yiling Patriarch, flying at high speed through Caiyi Town on one sword, all screaming. Nie Huaisang is clinging to Wei Wuxian; Wei Wuxian is flinging to Jiang Cheng, a little bit to Nie Huaisang, and most importantly to a chicken, Jiang Cheng is flying the sword. There is a bedsheet draped over all of them from where they ran into a laundry line. It’s 2am. Again I say, all are screaming]

[ . . . ]

[it probably wasn’t a rat - not just one, at least. Wei Wuxian does something incredibly clever, possibly including a creative use of that bedsheet; Jiang Cheng singlehandedly defeats something in combat, probably after he and Wei Wuxian shove each other out of the way of blows without either of them acknowledging it. Nie Huaisang shoves them both under cover and then with perfect professionalism tells whoever came to check on the ruckus that they handled the problem exactly as planned with absolutely no involvement of alcohol, and the Chief Cultivator will foot the bill for the unfortunately absolutely necessary property damage. Overall, they did handle the problem, but the local cryptid they were chasing will only have its reputation swelled and its continued existence assumed by all locals. it is possible that they themselves made this cryptid up two decades ago, but idk how heavy-handed we want to be.]

[ . . . ]

Nie Huaisang was leaning heavily on Wei Wuxian by the time they got back to the guest quarters. He could hold his alcohol, he was a goddamn Nie, and frankly he’d had it adrenalined out of him at least twice this evening. But he’d also had rather a lot, and he didn’t have Jiang Cheng’s golden core or Wei Wuxian’s blithe lack of sleep schedule.

“I missed this,” he admitted, head on Wei Wuxian’s (Mo Xuanyu’s) shoulder while Jiang Cheng opened the door.

Wei Wuxian leaned his head on Nie Huaisang’s. “Me too.”

“You’re both fucking annoying,” Jiang Cheng grouched, which meant, Me too.

Wei Wuxian stripped off Nie Huaisang’s muddy outer robe and tucked him into bed, and Jiang Cheng poured a glass of water from the pitcher by the door, drank it, poured another, scowled at Wei Wuxian for a moment, and set it on the bedside table. Wei Wuxian glanced at him out of the corner of his eye, finished with Nie Huaisang and started backing out of the room.

Nie Huaisang sat up more or less abruptly. “Both of you have got to stop that bullshit. I miss my brothers, okay? I’d I had a second chance...” He sagged back down with the plural, and flung an arm over his damp eyes. There was a glimmer in the sky; it’d be morning by Lan standards soon. “I fucking miss them.”

“...Ah,” said Wei Wuxian, who always spoke even when he didn’t know what to say.

“Yeah,” Jiang Cheng said abruptly, and, “Drink your fucking water.” And the door slammed behind him as he walked out.

[...a few lines of dialogue later...]

“Seriously, you can go.” Nie Huaisang flicked a few tired fingers in dismissal.

“Are you sure?” Wei Wuxian added with an audible smirk, “Because if I stay up for another half hour, I can wake Lan Zhan with a morning...big ol’...loving...”

Nie Huaisang finally adjusted his arm to crack one eye up at him.

“People usually cut me off before I get that far,” Wei Wuxian admitted.

[ . . . a bit more dialogue and the end.]

#mdzs #the untamed #nie huaisang #jiang cheng #wei wuxian #to the shick of no one i did write more in this than i thought i would #it's still like...no connective tissue though #and i'm not bothering with anything more #my fic #ficlet #i'm not gonna lie that plural snuck up on me #love when that happens!#incidentally you can’t prove that there ISNT a classic ancient fantasy China version of a telltale heart so my reference stands

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kuroo-shitsurou · 3 years

Text

Shooting Stars (Childe x Fem!Reader)

note: honestly, no one asked for this. this is obviously self-indulgent, but god FUCK do i love that ginger fatui man so much.

word count: 2.6k

"Careful now."

Childe's voice was calming, much like the gust of wind that blew past your hair. You saw his hand in front of you and you gladly grasped it, heart racing at the idea of falling to your death. The wind was calm and the air was refreshing, but there was nothing light about the pit in your stomach screaming at you to just carefully glide back down to the foot of the mountain you two were climbing.

"You aren't going to die, dear." He laughed, amused at the sight of your face.

"And what if I do? Childe, this isn't funny!" Your knees were planted firmly on one of the floating rocks just above Qingyun Peak. You grimaced at how the moss scraped against your bare knees, but you felt paralyzed with fear at the thought of falling because you knew better than to trust your clumsy nature.

"I'm not letting you fall. Trust me!" The genuine concern and reassurance in his voice was masked with his charming playfulness, and you couldn't help but sigh and stand up to follow him up to the floating island up ahead.

Childe requested to occupy your entire day earlier that morning, saying something about him showing you a beautiful sight that's sure to take your breath away. You agreed, entertaining his idea of a beautiful sight. After sparring with him in the golden house, eating a sumptuous lunch at Wanmin Restaurant, then sparring with him again, you two headed over to Qingyun Peak. The sun was about to set, and your eyes were mesmerized by how the purple hues above your head covered the entirety of Liyue.

The golden hour was nearly over, and here you were, scared out of your mind, with Childe leading you up a path of floating rock chunks that you were sure would collapse if two of you stepped on one at the same time. However, much to your surprise, they didn't.

"I've got you, okay?" Your companion's voice rang in your ears, and you didn't notice that he stepped down from his current platform to take his rightful place beside you. His right hand was still holding yours, and he used his free hand to rub gentle circles on your lower back to comfort you. You breathed in his scent- a mix of dried sweat and blood with a hint of his perfume clinging to the fabric of his collar. It was a familiar scent, something that soothed you despite being thousands of feet in the air with no stable architecture to calm your nerves. You just had to trust that the Adepti architectures knew what they were doing when they built this pavilion.

"Okay," You whispered to him.

Surprisingly, the climb was easier than you initially expected. It did help that Childe was almost carrying you the rest of the way, but leaning into him was inevitable and unavoidable. It wasn't because you wanted to be buried deeper into his chest while he held you close to the point that the exposed skin on your lower back was starting to burn because his clothed fingers were just lingering there. No, definitely not that. You were simply prioritizing your safety.

"See? It wasn't that hard, right?"

"You could have told me that we'd be heading to the pavilion. I could have mentally prepared myself for the climb."

"Mentally prepare? I'm quite sure that clinging onto me the whole time put you at ease, hm?" You wanted to wipe the smug grin off his pretty face.

"Shut up before I make you, fatui."

He let out a hearty laugh, throwing his head back and clutching his sides.

"You're honestly too adorable for your own good." He stepped closer and moved the hair out of your face as you felt another strong breeze blow by.

"I said shut it!" You felt a rush of heat spread across your cheeks as his eyes scanned your flustered figure.

"Here, take a seat." He motioned to the stone seat facing the sunset. "I did tell you that I'd show you a beautiful sight tonight."

"I trust your taste, so it better be worth it."

"When have I ever lied to you?"

You shot him a look. As you were about to open your mouth to speak, he quickly interjected with a defeated sigh.

"Don't even answer that." You could only chuckle as he sat down beside you, inching closer and closer until your shoulders were brushing against each other. This wasn't really the first time that you and him have been this close with each other.

You and Childe have a... complex relationship, simply put. It's not like you were dating, but the way he treated you- with respect, with care, with love; You wanted to melt in his arms as easily as you could fight him with your sword. You weren't really sure if Childe had romantic feelings for you because he never really talked about it, but you could only go off on his actions, and they directed to the one conclusion that he did have feelings for you.

However, as your former partner in research, Albedo, once said, "Do not assume unless stated otherwise. Logic and officiality back facts as much as they debunk assumptions." In reality, it was so easy to understand. Theoretically, it was easier. However, now that you were there in that position where all signs pointed to Childe having romantic feelings for you, you didn't know what to believe in.

Did you want to trust your gut instinct, or did you want to wait until Childe made it official and clear? It was a mindboggling situation for you because you also found yourself enamored by him.

Why... Why were you even enamored in the first place?

Maybe it was because you adored how he talked about his family. You could just listen to him for hours on end as he fondly tells you the tales of his adventures with Tonia, Anthon, and Teucer. It was the way that his deep cerulean eyes lit up whenever you asked about short anecdotes about his family that he could comfortably share with you. He adored his family so much that it made you feel... jealous. Aether was your only family, and you were still on the pursuit to finding him, so you were envious of how Childe could still visit his family back in Snezhnaya if he wanted to. You? You weren't even sure if your brother was still in Teyvat.

Maybe it was how he always tended to your wounds after each time you sparred. Although Childe claims that he's nothing more than a bloodthirsty hound who wishes for nothing but power and glory, he really can't stand seeing you with an open wound or a bleeding nose. While Childe is primarily the reason behind your injuries, he'd also be the first to bring you gauzes, band-aids, and medicine from Bubu Pharmacy. You'd always be touched since he tends to you first before he paid any mind to the bruises and cuts that adorned his skin.

"Your health is my priority, comrade. After all. who else could match my skills in combat if not you? That's why you better take care of yourself, or better yet, allow me to take care of you instead." His words echoed in your head, and you blushed, realizing the possible implications of his statement.

Maybe it was his surprisingly sharp memory. Though Childe could never compare to the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor's Consultant, Zhongli, he would often shock you at how he remembered things so well- especially when it came to you. One time, for your birthday, he bought you a necklace with your birthstone as the main gem adorning the fabric. You only ever mentioned your birthday once, and it was at an awkward moment during Hu Tao's birthday celebration, that's why you didn't think Childe would remember it at all.

"I pay attention to you more than you think, dear. I also happen to store things in my memory bank if they're that important to me." You remembered how he laughed as he insisted on putting the necklace on for you. Your hand instinctively latched on to the beautiful gem resting on your chest.

Maybe it was the way he called for your name. Whether he said your name in a battle cry, as a greeting, or in the middle of him teasing you, you were absolutely intoxicated with the way that your name rolled off his tongue. The way the syllables just always seemed so right when it was Childe who spoke them. Often, he would call you comrade, dear, or another endearing nickname he managed to create on the fly. However, when he spoke your name, it was always magical for you.

"Happy birthday, dear _____. I hope you enjoy this present!"

"It seems as though you've defeated me today. No matter, _____. I'm sure I'll triumph over you tomorrow."

"You look lovely as always, _____. Want to spar with me?"

"_____."

You were snapped out of your little daze. Your name being called over and over again wasn't just a hallucination caused by your infatuation with the eleventh harbinger. He was actually calling for you.

"Hey, _____? Are you feeling okay?" You blinked a few times before you realized that his blue eyes were practically puncturing your own. They were glazed over with concern, a sign that he had been calling you for a while now.

"O-Oh, I'm sorry!" You jolted, straightening your posture. "I was just fascinated by the sky, is all. I didn't mean to startle you."

"The sky, you say? Were you really thinking of the sky? Perhaps you were thinking about me instead?" His tone was teasing, a little more relaxed now that he knew you weren't feeling ill.

"The sunset was lovely. Although I see it everyday in Liyue Harbor, viewing it from up here in the pavilion is truly sensational. Thank you, Childe." You spoke, ignoring his attempt at riling you up. Of course, you were also ignoring the fact that he hit the nail right on the head with his guess.

"You didn't deny it, girlie." His voice was like a melody in your ears, a sweet harmony that made you feel elated. Anyway, why would you deny it? You were a woman of principle, which means you detested lying. It doesn't count as lying if you neither confirmed nor denied his guess, right? Right, keep telling yourself that.

"Don't flatter yourself." Your curt reply was met by another laugh.

"It should be anytime now," His words met the wind and your unknowing ears.

"What is?"

"Let's just wait for a few moments. I took you up here to see something more than just the sunset, after all." He gave you a wink, to which you just huffed and turned your crimson face.

A few moments passed, and Childe was already bouncing his leg up and down; Something you knew he only did when he was anxious or frustrated about something.

"Is something the matter?" You asked, watching his face grimace.

"Ah, perhaps my predictions were wrong." He stood up to stretch. "We were supposed to see something more than just the sunset, but perhaps Celestia just didn't want our little date to go as smoothly as I initially planned."

Hang on.

Date?

This was a date?

Your heart was racing and your mind began to fill itself with unanswered questions, but Childe knew better than to keep you waiting more than you already were.

"Hey, darling?" Your stomach dropped at the use of this nickname. "Do me a favor. Focus on the sky and don't look away until I say so."

You gave him a nod, unable to form the words that would suffice as a comprehensible sentence. He had you tongue-tied with just a simple nickname.

He walked away from where you were seated, just a few paces to your right and a couple of steps back. He was far enough to the point where you couldn't see him in your peripheral, but close enough for you to hear the jiggling of the adornments and chains on his clothes. You knew that sound even if it came from a mile away. You had it memorized by heart because of how many times you heard it before your sparring sessions began.

He took out his bow and was aiming to shoot an arrow.

Admittedly, there was a little voice at the back of your mind warning you about the potential danger just a couple of feet away from you. However, you decided to fight against it, knowing that the "potential danger" was just Childe. He'd never hurt you, right?

Despite the trust that you put in the ginger, you still closed your eyes as you heard him release the string of his bow. The quiet whizz of the arrow flew by your head, and when you realized that he wasn't shooting at you, you carefully opened your eyes to see a bright blue arrow shooting across the sky.

Your mouth went agape at the consecutive hydro-infused arrows flying across the velvet sky bedazzled with stars. The moon's glow illuminated the scenery, which made the setting all the more romantic and intimate. The vibrant hues of green and blue mixed with each other in the sky, creating an aurora borealis.

You were marveling at the number of arrows crossing the sky.

They were like shooting stars, except... they reminded you of Childe.

Though you knew they were only faux shooting stars, you closed your eyes.

"Archons, if you could be so kind, please allow me to be with him." You whispered to yourself.

You then opened your eyes to see the last arrow slowly fading away from your vision, and the hydro vision holder you loved so much sheepishly standing in front of you.

"I thought that the shooting stars would be visible tonight, that's why I asked you to come with me up here. Turns out my predictions were wrong. Maybe Scaramouche was right about the stars being a lie." He laughed, rubbing the back of his neck.

You giggled and looked at him, signaling to continue what he had to say.

"Although they were fake, I hope you liked them. I brought you here so that we could wish on the shooting stars together." His face was growing red, and you wanted to run up and hug him, if only your pride would stop getting the best of you.

"I loved them, Childe. Thank you for asking me out here today." You stood up and gave his hair a light ruffle, laughing at how he mocked you for doing so.

"So, what did you wish for?" He asked, taking a few steps closer to you.

"W-Well, uh," You began to stumble on your words, which caused you to involuntarily take a step back. With each step you took, Childe did too.

"Hmm?"

He managed to back you up against the pillar in the middle of the pavilion, and was enjoying the face you made as he trapped you between his arms.

"F-For good health! Yes, good health!" Yes, lying was against your principles, but you couldn't just say straight to his face that you wished for a relationship with him now, could you?

"Good for you then. You wanna know what I wished for?" His face came extremely close to yours, and you could feel his breath on your cheek.

"Wh-What is it?"

"You."

Your eyes once again met his deep blue orbs and they softened when he was staring straight into your soul.

"Can I kiss you?"

You gave a light nod, and he finally closed the gap between your lips.

Albedo was wrong.

You can definitely believe an assumption if the signs were obvious enough.

Omake;

"You totally wished for us to be together right?!"

"Oh, for the love of the Tsaritsa, please shut up!"

"You totally did!"

"I am seriously going to push you off."

"You're so mean, girlie!"

In the name of Kimura Ryohei being the VA of Childe and Kise from Kuroko no Basket

#genshin #genshin impact #gi #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #gi x reader #genshin fanfic #ajax #childe #tartaglia #ajax x reader #childe x reader #tartaglia x reader #genshin ajax #genshin childe #genshin tartaglia #i love u ginger man #why is he so fucking CUTE

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javierpinme · 3 years

Text

Part One: New Beginnings

Pairing: Frankie Morales x f!reader

Word count: 3.4k

Warnings: Infidelity, angst, friends to lovers, mentions of alcohol

Rating: M (might change)

Summary: You’ve lived in a small town for half of your life and nothings really changed until it did. Moving halfway across the country you find lasting friendships and a love you needed at the exactly the right time.

A/N: There is not a ton of Frankie in this one since I wanted to set the tone for the reader before they meet! They don’t see/meet each other until near the end (or do they?) I wanted to build the reader’s relationships with the people in her life as there will more parts.

AO3

Masterlist

Want to be on my taglist?

It’s hard to build friendships as an adult without being under the pretense of school or college. It’s especially difficult when you decide to move across the country. Away from your family and friends, but it’s what you needed. Seeing the same four walls you lived in, that same greasy diner that was always your go-to after one too many tequila shots the night before, and that one ex from high school that you’d really rather forget while running errands were making you feel complacent. Wake up. Drink. Eat. Work. Sleep. Repeat. You’ve spent most of your life here. You weren’t about to spend the rest of it here. So, you did something completely unlike you. You packed up your life and moved. The house was beautiful. You’d never owned anything in your life; just rented so this is a major upgrade for you. The first sight that greets you is the stairs after living in a first floor unit for most of your life. The house isn’t in perfect shape, but it’s yours which is all that matters.

The movers have left so you finally had the place to yourself. You couldn’t help the defeated sigh that fell from your mouth at the sight of all the boxes. If your sister and friends were here you’d probably be knee deep in pizza and wine while attempting to build furniture. You gave your brain the space to let that thought sink in, but you craved the freedom so you didn’t let that sit too long. You came here to build your own memories; no room for regrets now. So, the first thing you decide to acclimate yourself with is the closest liquor store and that is how you met Hannah.

The first thing you hear after getting lost reading a wine label is a loud oof before slamming into somebody. You only barely managed to catch the bottle before it became one with the outdated tile.

“I am SO sorry! I’m not even going to lie to you I was not watching where I was going. Are you okay? You didn’t drop anything did you?”

You manage to form a sentence between your scrambled apologies in between. The first thing you notice when you look at the face standing in front of you is how pretty she is. That typical blonde hair and blue eyes type that reminds you of the girls you went to high school with. You wince. Stop it.

“Oh, I’m okay! It was more the residual shock of it really. You must really need that bottle because you were just about ready to run me over in your pursuit to the cash register. Cheating ex or bad date?”

She says with a laugh while pointing at the wine still in your hand. Oh, she’s nice. You immediately feel guilty for that initial judgment when first looking at her.

“Oh, neither. I just moved here and need sustenance to unpack. Who knew you could fit your entire life into boxes?” You mirror her laugh.

“I figured I’d kill two birds with one stone. Walk around the neighborhood and find the necessities which is how I ended up here.” You say with a twirl in your finger.

"Ah, the one down the street that's just begging to be demolished?" She says while snapping her fingers with a mischievous smile.

"Hey, don't talk about her like that. She's old, but she's got character." You can't help the lopsided grin you give her. She hasn't even seen the dream kitchen with those beautiful green cabinets.

“Hey, well if you need help with that-“ her eyes shifting to the bottle, “I live right down the street so I can come over. I know moving somewhere unfamiliar can be a little daunting especially if you’re alone.” You can’t help the wide smile forming at her sweet gesture.

“And to help me unpack right?” You raise an eyebrow.

“I mean I’m better at draining a bottle, but if it’s necessary I will work for food and drinks. But, if I’m going to help you we are going to need way more than that.”

She finishes her sentence grabbing more bottles while traveling through the aisles. The sound of you’ve got to try this one and this one’s local in between aisle changes filling the store. You assure her that she is not off the hook with helping even with the promise of the “best merlot you’ve ever had in your life.”

Bags filling both of your hands and way too much alcohol for just two people to consume you make your way up the steps. Hannah pauses and looks up at the house.

“I was right. It should have been demolished. Will the porch cave in before I make it inside?” She says with skepticism at the foundation of your new home.

“Probably eventually but-“ you turn around to face her, “she’ll last for now. Come on, I haven’t even showed you the best part!”

You open your door and make your way inside leaving the door open for her to follow. You faintly hear from the kitchen “I seriously doubt that”, and you can’t help your chuckle at the remark.

You’ve always wanted a fixer upper; probably from all the HGTV shows you immersed yourself in as a child and the fact you’ve only ever lived in apartments. The first and only thing you managed to unpack first was your wine glasses. You definitely made a point to label them in big writing while packing up back home. A decision you are patting yourself on the back for now.

“So, do you like pizza? I know a good place. Pizza and wine should always be paired with move-in days. Oh, you’re right. This is probably the only good part of your house.”

Hannah leaned on the counter next you before shifting to test the weight taking in the scene of your kitchen.

“Love pizza. It’s not there yet, but I definitely have some plans with it; starting with keeping the color of those cabinets.”

In between sips of your glasses of wine you start to collaborate over your ideas of making it functional and aesthetically pleasing.

It didn’t take very long to start building friendships with the people in your area. You even started joining Sunday brunches and you were overly ecstatic finding out that bottomless mimosas existed. They didn’t have these at the diners back home. They even started assisting you with choosing paint swatches and going to Home Depot because you just had try that DIY project of making your own lounge chair that you found scrolling on Youtube.

“I think your measurements are a little off.”

Alex, probably one of your favorites of the group, mirrors the tilt of your head with his arms crossed. He co-owns a woodworking business with his husband so you wanted him there for any adjustments and moral support. Unfortunately for you, he wanted you to learn first which really meant fail.

You grimace at your handiwork and say, “yeah, I think maybe I should stick with what I’m good at.”

With a breathy laugh he adds, “give yourself some credit. You managed to tear up the carpet in the living room AND still able to keep the original hardwood. That’s no easy feat.”

You’ve somehow managed to create a whole support system in the little time that you’ve spent here. You’ve finally had the time and resources to create your own little touches that make your house now a home.

“Hannah, can’t we just stay in tonight? I’ve already been defeated twice by the light fixture in the living and my fingers are still tingling from the faulty power box. I’m really not in the mood.”

You give her the biggest puppy eyes you can manage while exaggeratingly lifting you fingers.

“Oh no, you’re going out to the bar tonight. You’ve been here for months and you really need to get yourself out there. You’re hot. Own it. Besides, it’s just you and me so there’s no pressure.”

She says with a swat to your ass and a push towards your closet. The only response you can add to that is Hmph.

The bar is nice enough with the dim lighting and it’s not so loud that you can’t hear yourself talk. Hannah insisted you wear one of your nicer dresses, but you wanted to feel like yourself so you opted for a t-shirt tucked into light wash jeans. If you were going to meet anyone tonight you wanted to set the standard for anything that could happen at the start. You’re still nursing your second beer while Hannah is on her third shot of the night. You feel a presence to your right and a sharp pinch to your thigh on your left. Hannah is of course attempting to alert you to the attractive man on the other side of you as if you didn’t notice. You turn around with a pained look on your face to her which she just shrugs off before making herself scarce.

“Can I buy you a drink?”

Your attention is brought back to the man to your right. He is very cute in a boyish kind of way and you briefly wonder if he’s talking to someone else. He’s dressed like he just got out of a business meeting, but his rolled sleeves are definitely doing something for you.

“Sure. What’s your name?” You say with the flirtiest smile you can muster.

“Joey. Nice to meet you.”

God, his smile must do wonders for his conquests. It’s working for you quite honestly. You completely lose track of time talking to him and see out of the corner of your eye Hannah leaving the bar holding onto a man with salt and pepper hair and scruff. Looks like she got lucky too. She gives you a wink as she walks out the door and you look to see where he was sitting in case you need to remember faces. Seems like he was out with some of his friends, but you didn’t get a thorough look because your attention is immediately brought back to Joey. You set a reminder for yourself to check in with her before you go to bed tonight.

It’s been a constant date after date and you were really beginning to develop feelings for him. Sure, you always tried to convince him you didn’t need to be wooed with all these extravagant dates. You were just happy to spend time with him. You didn’t need to go to a fancy restaurant to tell you that. It just wasn’t your style, but it made him happy so you went along with it. You had initially assumed him to be a one night stand, but you were pleasantly surprised to hear from him the next day asking to take you out dinner.

Your muscles in your stomach are straining from how hard you’re laughing at America’s Funniest Home Videos on the TV. Joey is sitting next to you on the couch with takeout cartons loitered all over your coffee table. The living room is starting to lose its natural lighting due to the day coming to a close; the only light source in the room being the lamp sitting on the end table next to the couch and the glow from the TV. You notice Joey looking at you with a far off look.

“What’s wrong?” You ask with a furrow in your brow. “Nothing.” His face shifting to a more pleasant tone once he turns back to the TV. The two of you had settled into a routine at your house. You had even introduced him to your friends and they really seemed to enjoy spending time with him. It was easy for them to fall for his charms as you did.

“Come on, hurry up. You’re supposed to be helping me pick out an outfit for tonight!”

Hannah still continued to see the man from the bar, Santi, his friends called him.

“If I’m supposed to be helping you pick an outfit then why are we in the lingerie section?” You ask with a sly grin on your face.

“That’s for after, of course. Gotta keep it interesting.”

Her laugh followed by her adding some bras and panties to her hands. You agreed to come with her tonight to officially meet him and his friends. You’ve heard enough about him from her. Some very intimate details as well. They weren’t exactly exclusive to each other and as far as you knew they were dating other people which you respected. You were nervous about meeting them, but you knew it was only a matter of time until Hannah would want to do this. You trusted her judgment and you were already comfortable that it was going to be in the bar you usually ventured out to.

In her words, “your only forms of entertainment can’t just be your home projects, Joey and me, you know? You deserve to have fun too and these guys will show you a good time I promise” while ringing up her purchases.

You barely manage to make it through the door of the bar before you feel a breeze next to you from her speeding to Santi with a kiss. You lovingly shake your head at her dramatic antics and make your way over to the table. It’s a little awkward at first since Hannah still had yet to let go of the man sitting next to her and you didn’t know how to start a conversation with these men with what was going on next to you.

“Sorry. I’m Santi, but everyone calls me Pope.”

He reaches over to shake your hand with a tone that is definitely not apologetic at all, but you find it amusing. You like him already. You can definitely see why Hannah was interested, but not your type.

He starts introducing his friends off to you. Will. He seems like the more mellow type of the group and his call sign is Ironhead. Benny is just Benny since he’s the baby of the group.

“He’s the menace of all of us so watch out for this one.” Will ruffles his brother’s hair for added measure which Benny recoils from.

Then, Frankie, they call him Catfish. Oh he’s handsome, but not in the boyish way that Joey is. He’s handsome in a more ruggish kind of way and you can’t seem to break eye contact from him. Your eyes don’t know where to go first so they travel from his deep brown eyes, to the bare patches on the beard he can’t seem to grow that you find yourself wanting to kiss, and to the curls peeking out of his standard heating oil hat. You find yourself itching to take that hat off and run your fingers through the nape of his hair. Stop. He’s the more reserved one in the group which makes sense since he really hasn’t fully spoken more than a few words at a time to you. You can’t control the side glances you keep shooting at him throughout the night. You’re just appreciating the view and maybe conjuring up a few very much domestic fantasies in your head. Liar.

You excuse yourself to go to the bathroom to get a grip on your emotions. Tilting your head at your reflection you point an accusing finger “get yourself together. You ca—.“ You jump at the intrusion of an elderly woman walking into the otherwise empty bathroom; a quizzical look forming on her face from your actions. Your nervous laugh gets the best of you. “It isn’t what it- I don’t always do this.” You’re not sure why you feel the need to explain yourself since she’s already closed the stall before you even got the chance to finish your sentence. You find yourself even more flustered leaving the bathroom than before going into it. This is going to be a long night.

***

Frankie was nervous when Santi first told him that Hannah would be bringing a friend. He remembers you from the night Santi first left with her. How could he forget? You had his attention the moment you stepped into the bar, but by the time he finally worked up the nerve to talk to you another guy had already swooped in. It wasn’t that surprising considering and it was probably for the best. He really wasn’t in any headspace to be in a relationship. His eyes followed you when you left to go to the bathroom in a hurry and he could just feel Santi’s eyes burning into him. He knew. You were exactly his type and he hoped to whoever was up above that he would just leave him to his hopeless crush without interfering.

***

You sit down at the table preparing to come up with some segway into the conversation between everyone when Santi breaks it with a loud clap calling your name out. “So, are you seeing anyone?”

You miss the glare that Frankie shoots him and the embarrassed groan he makes. You don’t miss the warning tone Will gives when calling Santi’s name out, but you get the feeling you’re not entitled to know what that’s about.

“Yes, I am.” Why does it feel so wrong to say that? “His name is Joey.” Hannah chimes in while rubbing Santi’s shoulders.

You also miss the sight of Frankie’s shoulders deflating at that piece of information. Your answer seems to satisfy Santi since he drops it after that and moves on to a different topic. “Benny, when’s your next fight?” It’s Friday apparently and all the guys along with Hannah are going to support him.

Will shifts towards you and says, “you can come if you want.” You cringe on the inside; your insecurities getting the best of you. If you want. They’re only inviting you because you’re there at the moment. “Maybe.” You won’t.

Somehow, Hannah has convinced you to go out with them a second time. “Come on, you can bring Joey since you’re so nervous! Please bring him,” she says with pleading eyes.

“I’m not nervous!” Liar. There is a sliver of truth to her statement, but you don’t want to tell her the reason for your nerves is seeing Frankie again. Yet here you were sitting in a booth with Joey across from Hannah and the rest of the guys.

“Jesus Hannah, he’s not going anywhere.”

You say with a loud laugh at her not so subtle PDA with Santi. “Sorry.” She said with a swipe of trying to remove her lipstick from Santi’s face; her smile never leaving her face. Frankie hasn’t looked at you at all tonight and you can’t help but wonder what you did wrong. You see those eyes crinkle and that cute dimple when he’s dedicating his attention to everyone else at the table, but disappears when his eyes go in your general direction.

At some point the guys and Hannah walk off to buy more drinks leaving you with Joey. He’s hasn’t hid his disinterest of the night at all even when the guys were trying to include him.

“Why are you so grumpy?” “I’m not.” His deep sigh a dead giveaway to his sour mood. “I’m just not vibing with them that’s all.” His eyes following the guys by single file line as he said it. You assure him that you can leave soon which after an hour or so you do.

Tonight’s events must have tired you out more than you thought because you’re fighting yawns the entire ride to Joey’s apartment. You don’t usually spend time here since he prefers staying at your place, but his place was a lot closer to the bar. The minute you walk inside you walk straight to his bedroom so you can promptly pass out as Joey showers. As you start to pull back the blankets something catches your eye. That’s not mine. Your heart rate is starting to speed up at the thought that’s forming in your mind. You reach down and grab a bra that was haphazardly thrown on the floor. The thing is you’d recognize that bra anywhere because you were there when she bought it; the day you were meeting Santi for the first time. You almost didn’t hear the water being shut off in the bathroom and the footsteps coming into the bedroom.

“Hey, what’s goin o—“

His eyes follow where you’re looking and then back up to your face. He’s not even trying to defend himself or come up with some shitty excuse that wouldn’t work anyway.

“How long?” Your voice is barely managing to stay steady while still staring at the incriminating evidence of your betrayal.

“How long, Joey?” His hesitation gives you your answer. It’s been a while.

71 notes · View notes

taetaespeaches · 3 years

Text

“I’m already lost without him.”

jimin x reader/oc genre: angst word count: 4.6K

a/n: This is just 4,600 words of angst. Here we have Jimin and Dear/reader’s dreaded breakup :( I’m not super impressed by the actual breakup scene but writing breakups over text is hard!! Anyways, I hope this doesn’t make you too sad! I hope you all enjoy and thanks for reading! :))

p.s. this takes place before "It’s everything to lose.” and “Yeah, I’m drunk. And you’re wearing my t-shirt and I fucking love you.”

Staring down at the phone, your sore eyes searched through the messages. Maybe if you looked through them long enough, hard enough, the letters would form into different words that didn’t spell out, “I don’t know if this is working anymore.”

As the text conversation went on, both of you lost your fight. You gave up.

Letting out a shaky exhale, you were sure there were no more tears left to cry as you rested your head against the front of the sofa. After pacing back and forth across your living room as you and Jimin threw sentiments of ending your union at each other, your thumbs attacking your phone screens, you had slumped to the living room floor. You weren’t sure how long it had been since you moved. You weren’t sure of anything anymore.

A knock on your front door broke you out of your thoughts as you slowly turned to the direction of the sound.

“You in there?” Your best friend’s voice called through the other side of the barrier. Fuck. The fact she was there made everything real. She knew.

You and Jimin had broken up.

“Babe,” your friend called out again, and you could picture her with her forehead pressed against the door as she tried to reach you. “I’m letting myself in,” she announced, the sound of her opening the door following the comment instantly.

Stepping inside, her eyes searched the apartment frantically until they landed on you, sitting in a pile on the floor as you stared up at her through your exhausted eyes.

“Oh, babe,” she frowned at you, staying in place as she watched you wordlessly. You couldn’t blame her for having nothing to say, the image of you must have been pitiful. However, the care and concern in her orbs had yours filling with the tears you thought you ran out of, and at the sight of your glistening eyes, your friend was darting across the room to make it to you.

Within a matter of seconds, she was seated next to you, her arms around your body as she pulled you against her frame, allowing you the safety of her presence to fall apart.

Neither of you spoke for a long time, instead, you cried in her arms as she ran a hand through your hair soothingly, holding you to her with her other arm.

Thinking back on the text conversation, the tension over the past weeks he’d been on tour, the day he left and you promised each other you’d both be ok, the fights and misunderstood feelings leading up the day he left, you wondered at which point you both could have done something to avoid your current situation. Where could you have fixed things? Could things have been fixed?

You’d been through break ups before, and in the past, they had hurt but you always had a sense of this needed to happen. They were sad, but they gave you resolution.

With Jimin, there was so much left unsaid, so much shared life left to live, so many memories to make; how could it be over?

“I just don’t understand,” you sobbed against your best friend’s arm, and you felt her hold her breath as she awaited any further words, not wanting to miss a thing you said. “I already miss him so much.”

“I know,” she whispered gently as she exhaled slowly, resting her chin on the top of your head.

As if months of exhaustion hit you at once, your eyelids started fluttering shut as you relaxed against your friend’s body. “I’m just so tired,” you barely spoke above a whisper, and you felt the faint touch of your friend’s lips to your hair.

“Just sleep,” she told you, just as you began to fade into slumber.

As your mind awakened slowly, the first thing you noticed was the throbbing in your head. Groaning, you reluctantly peeled your eyes open to find the room still dark. The second thing you noticed was the body underneath you, and the person’s arm that was wrapped loosely around your waist.

Lifting your head, you looked at the girl, frowning at her position on the floor. Her neck was awkwardly propped up against the edge of the sofa that was surely going to give her some soreness for a couple days.

Carefully, you lifted your body from the floor, pushing the blanket from your frame and tucking your friend in before you tiptoed across your apartment to the kitchen. As you moved, you realized how stiff your body was, probably both from sleeping on the ground and from the tension built up from your sobbing.

Chewing on the inside of your cheek, you reached inside the refrigerator, retrieving two bottles of water for you and your friend. Setting them on the kitchen island, you then made your way to the bathroom to get some pain meds for the aches and pains you were already experiencing and the ones your guest would soon be feeling.

As you reached to open the medicine cabinet, your eyes caught your reflection, halting your movements. The girl staring back at you, her eyes swollen and red, looked so broken. The sight of her had your stomach twisting in discomfort, a lump lodging itself in your throat. Scoffing, you opened the cabinet and pulled out a bottle of pain medication. Shutting the mirror quickly, you turned to leave the bathroom before you could lock eyes with your reflection once more.

Upon returning to the kitchen, you spotted the girl sitting at the island with the blanket draped over her back as she rolled her head from side to side across her shoulders. Your swollen eyes met her tired ones, and her expression filled with concern instantly. The look on her face was enough to have you on the verge of another breakdown.

Shaking the pill bottle at her, she nodded. “Yes, please,” she mumbled, her gaze following you as you walked to the island, stopping on the opposite side of her. Pushing one of the water bottles to her, you set the pills down, purposefully avoiding looking at her.

She was quick with opening the bottle, pulling out enough pills for the both of you as she placed your dose down on the countertop, sliding them to you before she popped hers in her mouth, swallowing them down with a drink of water.

“Make sure you drink a lot of that,” she nodded to your own water bottle, making you look up at her as she took another big gulp from hers.

Slowly, you took your pain meds, drinking just enough water to aid them down your throat, the girl staring at you without blinking as she waited for you to drink more. With a huff, you drank more, continuing to swallow the drink until she gave you an approving nod, breaking her eye contact as she twisted the lid back on her own bottle.

You both sat in silence for a moment, your friend obviously unsure of how to approach a conversation. Deciding to help her out, you looked down to the counter as you took a deep breath. “How did you know?” You asked her, the girl’s head snapping toward you.

“Hm?” She hummed in question.

“How did you know what happened? How did you know to come over?” You clarified, dragging your finger in a circular motion across the stone counter.

“Oh, Tae,” she told you. “He texted me asking me if I had heard from you and then he told me what happened.”

“So you know what happened?” You asked curiously, wondering how much Jimin had shared with his best friend, and how much said best friend shared with your best friend.

“I know what happened, but I don’t know any details,” she informed you. “Not that you have to tell me anything, especially not right now, but like, I don’t know what was said or how it was done.”

“Did Taehyung know it was coming?” You asked her, looking up at her when she shook her head.

“I don’t think so,” she told you. “If he did, he definitely didn’t let on to anything. Babe, I don’t think Jimin even knew he was gonna do it.”

“Well he did,” you said angrily. “Through a text.” The girl scoffed in response as she directed her eyes away from you. “Yeah,” you nodded a few times. “Not even a phone call. Just a text.”

“What the fuck?” She asked out of shock, rather than searching for an actual answer. Shrugging in response, the girl shook her head in disappointment. “I don’t understand this at all,” she admitted, you cracking a sad smile at the comment.

“Me either,” you said, your tone fragile as tears filled your eyes. When your best friend’s hands reached across the countertop, enclosing over your own as she held them comfortingly, you dropped your head just as a sob racked through your frame.

“I’m so sorry,” she told you woefully as tears quickly descended from your face to the stone surface, the weight of them as heavy as the pain in your heart.

“I just- we were good together once, weren’t we?” You asked through your cries, looking up at the girl.

She slightly cocked her head to the side as she nodded. “Of course you were.”

“We could be good again, right?” You asked her, the girl’s own orbs glistening in response to you. “I don’t know where I’m supposed to go from here,” you admitted pitifully, bowing your head down once more as you cried harder.

She squeezed your hands as she soothed her thumbs over your knuckles. “You don’t have to know anything right now,” she assured you.

“He’s my future,” you wept, thinking back on your relationship with Jimin. He came into your life two years earlier and immediately became everything you wanted. What was life without Jimin? “I’m already lost without him,” you admitted, your friend dropping your hands as she quickly rounded the corner of the island to pull you into a hug.

The girl was right in saying you didn’t need to know anything in that moment. But the truth was, you didn’t want to know anything about a life without Jimin in it.

Jimin was sat on the edge of the bed, his head hanging low as he fidgeted with the phone in his hands.

“I don’t know,” Jimin told Taehyung who was stood across the room staring at his friend carefully. “I don’t know why I did it,” he admitted, shaking his head.

Taehyung licked his lips, his eyes inspecting the disheveled state of his best friend. “I’m just really surprised,” Taehyung admitted, crossing his arms over his chest as his mind tried to comprehend a world where his two friends weren’t together.

“I want her to be happy,” Jimin muttered, his voice frail. “I can’t give her that,” he looked up to Taehyung with teary eyes, blurry with confusion and regret. Sighing, Taehyung approached his friend, Jimin visibly swallowing as if he was trying to choke back the emotion that was threatening to overtake him.

Sitting next to Jimin, Taehyung placed a hand to his shoulder blade as Jimin tensed immediately. “Did I do the right thing?” Jimin asked Taehyung just before his face tensed, his jaw clenched.

“I don’t know,” Taehyung told him, shaking his head slowly.

“She’s all alone,” Jimin realized suddenly, his face contorting as tears rolled down his cheeks immediately after speaking the words.

“I texted Peaches and told her what happened,” Taehyung quickly assured Jimin, soothingly running his hand across Jimin’s upper back. “She’s on her way over there right now.”

“She’s gonna hate me,” Jimin cried, wiping his face with the sleeve of his sweatshirt.

“Which one?” Taehyung asked dumbly, not realizing until after he spoke the words that he shouldn’t have.

“Fuck,” Jimin dropped his head to his knees as sobs shook his frame, Taehyung draping his arms over the man’s back as he attempted to comfort his broken-hearted friend.

Only a few seconds passed before a knock sounded against Jimin’s hotel room door, the man’s head snapping at the entrance as Taehyung stood to answer it. Jimin attempted to rid himself of the tears, not yet ready to admit to the rest of his members that he had broken up with his girlfriend over text with very little thought or discussion.

When Taehyung answered the door, Namjoon stood in the hallway, his face looking down at his phone as he sent a text. “What are you guys up to?” Namjoon asked, looking up to Taehyung briefly before peering back down to the screen.

“Uh,” Taehyung started, his tentativeness catching Namjoon’s attention as he set his gaze on Taehyung once again. When Taehyung didn’t speak immediately, his expression looking rather regretful, Namjoon peeked into the room to spot Jimin on the bed, wiping his face as he sniffled.

“What happened?” Namjoon immediately stepped into his leader role. “What’s wrong, is he ok?” Namjoon began pushing past Taehyung, but the younger man placed his hand to Namjoon’s chest, Namjoon looking at him with wide expectant eyes.

“They just broke up,” Taehyung whispered to his older friend, Namjoon’s jaw dropping slightly as he searched Taehyung’s face as if he was in seek of answers to questions that hadn’t been asked. Directing his eyes back to Jimin, Namjoon’s shoulders slumped.

Stepping into the room, Namjoon headed toward the devastated man. “Jimin,” Namjoon spoke lowly, pulling his member’s attention to him. When Jimin looked to Namjoon, the older man let out a light sigh upon meeting his glistening sad eyes. “Oh, Jimin,” Namjoon said quietly. “What happened?”

“I broke up with her,” Jimin admitted just as he began crying harder.

“Why did you do that?” Namjoon searched for understanding to the situation he definitely did not expect to walk into.

Taehyung watched as Namjoon took a seat at Jimin’s feet, looking up at his wet cheeks and shining orbs. The older man was careful but intentional in seeking answers as Taehyung leaned against the wall across the room.

“Hey,” Namjoon called for Jimin’s attention. “Why did you break up with her? What happened?”

“We’ve been fighting so much,” Jimin revealed through his tears. “Just constant fights.”

“What about?” Namjoon pressed, his calm demeanor coaxing admissions from the younger man.

“Literally everything,” Jimin cried. Jimin’s mind ran through the many disagreements you both had been having. Missed calls, distant conversations, jealousy over how time was being spent, personal frustrations being taken out on each other. “We could never just listen to each other, we kept jumping to accusations, we were always on the defense,” Jimin spoke sadly, sniffling as he wiped his face once more. “We couldn’t speak empathetically with each other anymore it seemed.”

“Have you had conversations about breaks or working on your relationship at all?” Namjoon asked, peering up at his friend. The older man’s intention was not to guilt the younger one, or make him regret what happened, but rather to gather details so he could better handle the situation and be there for his friend.

Shaking his head, Jimin groaned in frustration at himself; at the current situation. “I don’t even fucking know why I did it, I’m so stupid,” Jimin broke down, looking away from both Namjoon and Taehyung as tears cascaded down his face.

“You’re not stupid,” Namjoon sympathized.

Suddenly, Jimin stood aggressively, ripping his hands through his hair as he scoffed. “Yeah I am, what the fuck did I just do?” He yelled, beginning to pace back and forth across a small segment of the room. “I just broke her heart,” he lamented. “I love her and I hurt her.”

Namjoon and Taehyung shared a brief look between them, both feeling horribly sorry and unsure of how to console their friend. “We all know you love her,” Taehyung broke the silence, Jimin looking to him with wide eyes.

“No one is questioning that,” Namjoon added as a preface to what he was about to question. “So why did you decide to end things?”

“I don’t-” Jimin started before Namjoon shook his head at him.

“Whether you regret it or not, you did it for a reason,” Namjoon pointed out. “So why?”

Breathing heavily and sharply, Jimin looked between the two men before releasing a huff of air, and slowly dropping his head toward the direction of the floor.

“I’m sick of hurting each other,” he admitted with a sniffle. “And I’m so afraid of losing her slowly that-”

“So you did it quickly,” Namjoon finished Jimin’s sentence, Jimin nodding.

“You ripped the bandaid off,” Taehyung added, Namjoon looking to Taehyung thoughtfully.

A moment of silence passed over the three of them and Taehyung took the opportunity to check his phone. Seeing no notifications from his best friend, he sighed lightly. He knew the breakup of their closest friends would be difficult to navigate with the girl he loved so dearly. He just didn’t know what was to come yet.

“She gave up so easily,” Jimin suddenly spoke timidly, both Namjoon and Taehyung locking their eyes on him. “Maybe I did the right thing,” Jimin tried to convince himself as he looked between his friends. “Maybe she’ll be happier.”

Happiness. What was it really? For Jimin, it was slow dancing with you in the living room in your apartment, losing yourselves in the moment, each other, and the love you had for one another.

But you two hadn’t spoken in two days, all because of another one of the same fights you continuously had. If you weren’t arguing about a missed video call, you were quarreling about withholding information about what you both had been up to while he was away on tour.

Conversations had become distant and speaking empathetically had diminished with each and every bout.

Jimin was well aware how affected you were by your fights, because he was the same. It became hard to focus on anything else when the remnants of your conflicts lingered in your minds. And if it was becoming too much for him to take on, he could only imagine how difficult it was becoming for you.

So maybe it was time to set you free. Knowing when to let go was always the hardest part. Are you making a mistake? Or have you waited too long? Jimin wasn’t sure. But his message was typed and all he had to do was press send.

Thinking back to your last conversation, a tense one that you both crammed in before he had to do soundcheck and that kept you awake on a weeknight, setting you up for a day of exhaustion at work, his mind got stuck on your finals words before hanging up the phone.

“I can’t keep doing this.”

Whether you were talking about the fights or the relationship, he wasn’t sure. But suddenly, his thumb was pressing down on the screen, sending the message to you.

You had felt sick all day. Not hearing from Jimin and knowing you left things off on a bad note had turned you into an anxious emotional mess. There had been multiple times you’d open your messages with him, preparing to send him a text apologizing, and letting him know you wanted to fix whatever was happening between the both of you.

Pride, or maybe embarrassment, kept you from sending the texts.

Every notification you received made your stomach flutter in nervousness, but it was never him. So when the ding that sounded from your phone was accompanied by his contact name, you rushed to open it.

Reading over the words several times, your mind heart racing more frantically by the second, suddenly you wished you had left the message sit unread forever. Because those words were not what you expected to see. And for the first time, hearing from Jimin made you feel worse rather than better.

Chim: I don’t know if this is working anymore. It feels like we’ve grown apart.

No matter how many times you read over the words, wishing for your mind to unscramble them to relay a message that didn’t sound like giving up, they remained the same. Typing your response, you felt like your thumbs were moving at light speed yet it still wasn’t fast enough.

You: What?

You: What are you doing right now?

You: What is happening?

Holding your breath, you watched as the three dots emerged in the message bubble. As they appeared and disappeared several times in a row, you quickly sent another message.

You: Jimin what the fuck?

When his message came through, you let out the air you held inside your lungs in one sharp exhale, feeling as though the air was viciously pulled from you.

Chim: Isn’t this what we both want? All we do is fight, aren’t you tired?

You: No I don’t want this, fuck I never wanted this.

There was a delay in his response, sending your mind into even more chaos as you tried to convince yourself this wasn’t reality.

You: Is this what you want?

Eyes glued to the screen, you tried to picture what he looked like in that moment. Was he calm? Was he upset? Was he relieved?

Chim: I want us to be happy.

You were happy. Weren’t you? Maybe not so much these days, but you were sure that would change when he came home to you. You only had to hold out for a little over a month until he returned home.

You: And you’re not happy with me?

Chim: Can you honestly say you’re happy? I mean can you really say that truthfully?

You really didn’t know. Did you love him? Yes, more than anything. But maybe the bad days had started outweighing the good. And maybe you just didn’t want to admit that because you did love him as much as you always had.

You: I love you.

Those three words. They held so much meaning. Yet they meant so little in that moment. Because maybe love wasn’t enough anymore.

Chim: Dear. Are you happy?

You were typing the words before you even thought about what they really meant.

You: I don’t care, as long as I have you.

You: I don’t care how often we fight, as long as you’re mine Chim.

Looking back at those messages days later, you’d realize how unhealthy that sentiment was. But in that moment, all you could see was how badly you wanted to hold onto the person you loved the most.

Chim: You deserve more than that. That’s not fair to you, you should be happy.

Was he that despondent in your relationship? So much so that he would remain so adamant about separating?

You: Do you really think we can’t be happy together anymore?

It was then, as you became more hopeless and increasingly desperate that the tears finally pooled along your lash line. If he gave any sense of optimism toward your relationship, you would keep fighting.

Chim: I don’t know.

The tears coursed down your cheeks as you realized he was giving up. You both had always fought for each other, but he was surrendering.

You: Ok fuck.

Neither of you typed for a moment. As you read through the messages, you could feel your world crashing down around you, and you wished it would take you out as it crumbled.

You: How do we fix this? Just tell me what to do and I’ll do it.

You knew the message was senseless and hysterical, but it was true to how you were feeling.

Chim: It’s not that easy.

Those words ripped the last of your endurance from your lungs, and suddenly you understood what he was feeling. He was tired. You were both tired. Maybe love really wasn’t enough.

You: Why isn’t it?

As you sent the message, you felt the last of your strength withering as you slumped your head toward your lap, tears still flowing from your eyes.

Chim: It’s just not.

Maybe things wouldn’t change for you. Everything doesn’t always get better with time.

You: I don’t know what to say anymore. It seems like you’ve made your mind up.

Staring at the phone, you scoffed when his text came through.

Chim: I just don’t want use to end up hating each other.

Chim: And I’m scared we’re already headed down that path.

Chim: I’m so sick of hurting you.

Hot tears burned the corners of your eyes before they slid down the edges of your nose.

You: You haven’t been hurting me until now.

It was a lie. You knew you’d both been hurting each other but it didn’t matter because you loved him and you wanted him. You always wanted him.

Chim: Yes I have been. We’ve been hurting each other.

You: But I love you.

It was all you could say. What else was there at that point?

Chim: And how long until you hate me?

Considering the timing of the question, shouldn’t you hate him in that moment? And that’s when you couldn’t see a day where your feelings for him would turn to hatred. Here you were, being dumped by him through text messages while he was overseas, and you still couldn’t hate him. All you could do was love him. You’d always be loving him.

Chim: Of course I love you, but that’s why I’m doing this.

Rolling your eyes, your chest suddenly filled with rage as you read over the words that indicated he was playing some type of hero, saving you from him.

You: Don’t. You don’t get to find consolation in this by pretending to be noble. You’re giving up, don’t fool yourself.

The words were harsh, and you meant them to be. He didn’t get to rip your heart out without having to look at your face as he did so and then convince himself that he’s doing something good for you.

Jimin didn’t respond right away and your impatience took over your judgement. You were losing your lover and your best friend in a matter of seconds, and the only control you had over it was a few measly texts.

You: Anything else?

The three dots appeared immediately but they stayed on the screen for nearly twenty seconds before the message came through.

Chim: I’m sorry.

Breathing out slowly, your face contorted as a sob escaped your frowning lips. You knew he was sincere, but it didn’t change the fact that he was quitting on you.

You: Right.

You watched as a few tears pooled onto the phone screen, bubbling over the word “sorry”. The three dots appeared once again, but you refused to wait for the incoming message. He was giving up and you didn’t want to hear anything else from him. Quickly, you typed your final message and sent it without thinking about it too much, looking down at the words that had just arrived to his phone.

You: Don’t ever speak to me again.

Your message hurt your own heart as you unattractively blubbered. Locking the phone, you threw it to the side of the couch next to you just before collapsing into a ball against the cushion, heavy sobs and hiccups shaking your body violently.

And Jimin was left staring at his phone, tears in his own eyes as he read over his half-typed text.

Fuck no I don’t want this I don’t know what I’m doi

His eyes were only pulled from the phone when Taehyung let himself into the room using the spare key. When their gazes met each other, Jimin dropped the phone to the floor and shrugged sadly at his friend.

“I fucked up.”

319 notes · View notes

marvelobsessedteenager · 3 years

Text

All The Hurt - Chapter 2

Pairing: Peter Parker x fem!reader

Warnings: ANGST, Peter was an ass, reader is a hurt and petty bitch, fluff to make up for the angst, curse words, lots of “coincidences”

Word Count: 4.1k

A/n: The amount of love I've gotten is absolutely incredible. Thank you guys for the support! Enjoy :3 -----------------------------------------

Flash had suggested driving both him and yourself to Liz’s house, and you agreed, simply because car rides with him were more fun. You got there earlier than anyone else, giving Flash time to set up his DJ equipment and speakers while you helped Liz and Betty set up the lights, food, and drinks.

Not an hour later and the house was full of people that you knew and didn’t know, but welcomed anyway. Everybody walking around was having a good time, drinking soda out of a red solo cup and dancing to Flash’s party music. You would be lying if you told yourself your eyes weren’t examining the dance floor for a particular bed of curls.

In your mind, you knew there was no way Peter knew Spider-Man. You saw it in the way he told everyone he did today at the gym. His left hand was wildly shaking — a clear telltale of nerves you’d figured out long ago.

Something else was bothering you, though, even if you didn’t want to admit it.

That bruise. You knew for a fact Peter wasn’t a fighter, mainly when it came to bullies - words or actions. He never retaliated, which is why people considered him an easy target. You wouldn’t put it past him to allow himself to get beaten up, but you would have known if that’d happened. Flash was definitely his number one bully, but he wouldn’t dare lay a finger on Peter, and neither would any of his friends, especially since they all knew your history with Peter.

They were all bark and no bite, which meant that there was another explanation for it, but for the love of God, you couldn’t figure out what it was.

And speak of the devil.

You smirked as you caught sight of him, worried thoughts vanishing as you weaved your way through the crowd to Flash, whispering in his ear about your discovery. He flashed you a wicked smile, turned down the music, and grabbed the mic.

“Penis Parker! What’s up?” Flash yelled into the mic, causing Peter to freeze and turn to look at Flash, who was pointing right at him.

“Hey, Y/n,” Flash pretended to search the crowd then turned to you, “Where do you think his pal Spider-Man is?” He placed the mic below your lips and waited for your preplanned answer.

“Hm, let me a guess.” You sweetly said, tapping your chin like you were thinking, “in Canada with his imaginary girlfriend?” You raised your eyebrows, eyes boring into Peter’s with fire burning behind your pupils, your brain ignoring your heart that was begging you to stop upsetting him as you caught the flash of hurt that crossed his features.

The crowd laughed and “ooh” ed as Flash played a “burn” sound effect, “That’s not Spider-Man,” He jutted his chin towards Ned, “that’s just Ned in a red shirt.”

You watched him walk away from the giggling crowd, fuming, and you bumped your fist with Flash's in victory. He turned up the music, and you made your way to the dance floor with your friends, as you swayed your hips to the loud tune. Your group sang loudly to the songs, and though it was deafening and off-tune, you never felt freer than when you screamed the lyrics with them.

At some point, your voice started sounding raspy, and your throat was begging you for some sort of liquid to heal the ache. You excused yourself from the group, walked to the kitchen and grabbed a solo cup, filling it with cool water and chugging it down.

But, of fucking course, someone had to ruin your night and your favorite white dress by bumping into you and spilling coke on your outfit. That someone was a girl with piercing blue eyes and brown hair — someone you didn't recognize. It was clear she didn’t go to Midtown considering she squeaked an apology and ran to her friends, who glanced back at you and immediately dashed out of the house.

Great.

You would ask Liz for another dress, but you weren’t exactly tight with her. You’d also ask your friends to take you home to change, but as you looked at them jumping around and bobbing their heads to the music, you figured they were having too much fun, and you didn’t want to ruin it.

You would normally call your driver, but you hadn’t had the chance to set up your new phone just yet.

Sighing, you grabbed your denim jacket you hid below the counter earlier, put it on, and began your journey home on foot. Your house was located about thirty minutes away from Liz’s, which wasn’t really a big deal for you.

About fifteen minutes of strolling in silence and kicking any rock that caught your eye, you passed by a playground that looked familiar. It was the very same playground you and Peter would play in when you were children. You’d take turns pushing each other on the swing, and when you were old enough to do it yourself, you would both compete to see who’d go higher and who could jump off the swing the farthest. It always resulted in an injury, but you two always laughed it off, especially when Jane would run over worriedly with a first-aid kit.

As you went into your early teenage years, you’d meet at the playground alone and climb to the top of the dome climber with different (and disgusting) flavored milkshakes, exchanging it with each other every now and again, and watch the river flow peacefully.

The same river in which Iron-Man is flying out of with Spider-Man in his arms.

Wait, what?

You snapped out of your reverie and did a double take before you quickly dove into one of the many bushes, the quick rate of your heartbeat becoming a distraction from the fresh cut on your exposed neck from the sharp branches.

You could see everything that was happening in front of you, but not necessarily hear everything. Your wide eyes curiously peeked over the bushes, watching as Iron-Man placed Spider-Man on the dome. And maybe it was your hearing, but you swore you knew the high pitched voice that was exaggeratedly saying something.

You saw Spider-Man tug his mask off and wring it out, which made the back of his head incredibly visible. Brown hair. Or maybe black. It was too dark to see the difference. You debated moving a little closer to hear the conversation.

Deep down, you knew it wasn’t right. Spider-Man was entitled to protect his identity. But you could keep a secret. Besides, maybe this could be the moment you’d thank him for saving you. You doubted he’d remember what he did, but you’d never forget.

So, you crept a little closer to make out the words, despite your gut telling you you shouldn’t.

“What were you thinking?” Iron-Man asked in a way that made you believe Spider-Man was in trouble.

“The guy with the wings is obviously the source of the weapons, I gotta take him down!”

Wait. That sounds like-

“Take him down now, huh? Steady, Crockett, there are people who handle this sort of thing.” Iron-Man said, waving his arm around.

“The Avengers?”

“No, no, no, just a little below their…pay grade.”

“Anyway, Mr. Stark, you didn’t have to come all the way out here, I-I had that. I was fine.”

But that was all you could hear. Because as the conversation went on, the gears in your head begun turning, the dots seemed to connect faster than you could comprehend.

The strange bruise on his jaw after it was shown on the news that a certain superhero fought robbers at the bank across Delmar’s. Him running out of school once it was over. The fact that he left school for two weeks and mysteriously came back. Him ‘allegedly’ saying your name when he saved you. All the times he ditched you in the past were the same times Spider-Man was on the news for a heroic saving. You remembered because you’d send the news to Peter. The “Stark Internship” excuse wasn’t real.

But this was.

Peter Parker is Spider-Man.

Peter Parker saved your life.

The amount of information was loud. So, so, loud. You couldn’t hear the bickering that went on. A rush of emotions went through you. The first was rage. Is this it? Is this is his reason for letting you go? He couldn’t have just been honest and told you? You bet he told Ned. But he couldn’t tell you, could he?

But just as quickly as it came, your anger left you, instead being replaced with worry. You hated to admit it, but you were worried about him. How could he go out there every day and put his life on the line like that? What about his wounds and injuries? Did he suffer through those alone? Or did May help him heal?

Does May even know? Does anybody know?

Lastly, panic, and that was the strongest of them all. Holy shit, you thought, I just found out that my ex best friend and former crush is a superhero. He shoots webs out of his hands or something and sticks to walls and saves strangers and fights criminals and-

And Iron-Man is flying away.

And Spider-Man is walking in your direction.

I need to go.

As soon as you turned around, still crouched but ready to fucking bolt, you accidentally stepped on something hard, and you had to bite your tongue to keep your hissing inside. Once the pain slightly subsided, you looked downwards and moved your head closer to the object. A loud purring sound was emitting from it, and if there was anything in this world that screamed danger, it was this.

You were careful to pick it up and examine it. In the middle of this..machine was a bright purple stone and it was fucking glowing. You looked around you and caught Spider-Man muttering something to himself right before an obnoxious ringing made its way into your ears, prompting you to cringe and put your hands over them as you crouched.

It’s the same annoying fucking ringtone as Peter’s.

You waited for him to move a little farther, and when he did, you peeked from behind the bush. He had just closed the phone and continued his walk. You didn’t know if this thing was a bomb or something explosive, so throwing it in his direction was already ruled out. Besides, he was already beyond throw distance. You knew the safest way to get it to him.

You knew what to do. You hated that you did, but you had to do it.

Maybe hearing him talk to you would confirm or deny your hypothesis. Anybody could have brown hair, a high-pitched voice and the same ringtone as your ex-best friend and be a superhero that saved you two weeks ago.

You took a deep breath to calm your hammering heart from ripping through your ribcage and escaping. “I hate my life,” you mumbled as you rose and followed him with your heart still beating out of your chest, almost sure it was louder than your barely audible footsteps.

Don’t trip, don’t trip.

When you got close to him, close enough to tap him on the shoulder, he quickly turned around and got into a fighting position with his fists ready to punch. You were so shocked that you dropped the object and backed away with your hands up, “Whoa, whoa, whoa, easy. ”

Upon seeing a citizen (that he knew too well) he dropped his stance, “S-uh..sorry. I-I thought you..uh..” He cleared his throat, “Sorry, ma’am. How can I help you?” He said, very clearly thickening his voice and awkwardly placing his hands on his hips.

But you knew that sound anywhere.

Fuck, fuck, fuck. It is him.

You attempted to swallow the lump in your throat as you felt it clogging your ability to breathe.

“Uh, hi. I’m Y/n.” You mentally smacked yourself. He already knows you, dumbass.

Should you tell him he knows you, though? Should you tell him you know him? No, what? You vehemently shook your head.

“A-anyway I, um, found this-” You picked up the object and turned it around in your hands, “-on my way home and I think it’ll help you? I don’t know, it’s definitely not man-made, I suppose. I’m not exactly an expert but I thought you’d be and you just so happened to be in my neighborhood and I am, too, and this thing is glowing and-”

His spider..eye..thingies were as wide as saucers, and it was only now that you noticed you were rambling. Your cheeks flushed, and you immediately cursed at your body for betraying you.

This is worse than tripping.

“Sorry,” you looked down at your shoes, "I babble when I’m-“ Nope. Not letting him know you’re nervous. Not that he doesn’t already know. You found yourself regretting telling him all your triggers and quirks in the past, because right now, you couldn’t tell whether he could figure you out or not.

He probably could, though.

This night just kept getting worse. Pack it up already.

You cleared your throat and straightened your shoulders in the most confident way you could, “Here,” you outstretched your arm to him, waiting for him to grab the foreign object, but all he did was stare, and stare, and stare. You didn't really know where to look, and you didn't know if he was gazing at you or not, but before you could say anything, he snapped out of whatever he was in and took a hold of the object. You tried not to think about his masked fingers that grazed yours.

“Thanks, uh, Y/n.” He said, not as intrigued by the object as you thought he’d be. Instead, he seemed to be looking at you. Or behind you. You still couldn't tell. You were too caught up in the way he said your name. It felt strangely familiar, and comforted you for a moment. It made you feel safe and wanted. Loved.

Before the memories reminded you of what he’d done.

“Sure,” you nodded, slowly backing away, “um, see you...around.”

“Yeah.”

As you turned on your heel to continue your trip home, he pipped up, “Oh, um, would- do you want me to walk you home? It’s really dark out here.”

You entertained the thought in your head for a second. "What could possibly happen if he walked you home, besides guaranteeing you safety?” Your heart spoke.

"Oh, I don’t know, you could accidentally blurt out that you know him, and then things will get even more awkward than they already are.” Your brain fought back, stubborn as ever.

Yeah, you’re definitely just going to pass up his offer.

“I’m, uh, I’m good. Need a little time to myself.” You nervously chuckled, wrapping your arms around yourself, “Thanks, though, I appreciate it.”

“Yeah.” He repeated, shifting his weight from one foot to another as he watched you walk away from him.

Like he’d done to you.

The rest of the fifteen minutes passed by faster than you anticipated, but maybe it was because you were too preoccupied considering you just confirmed your ex-best friend was a fucking superhero with fucking superpowers. As the confirmation made its way into your brain, you noticed that the signs were right beneath your nose, but you weren’t observant enough to figure it out. They started before he left you.

How did it start to begin with? Has he always had these powers?

Wait, no. Because Spider-Man wasn’t always around. And even if he really did have them for a long time, why leave you now? It must’ve been recent, you concluded.

But how? How does one go from an ordinary, lanky teenager to a robust superhero who can stop a speeding bus with his bare hands?

As one question was answered, another one took its place. The list just kept going and going, without a clear sign of it stopping.

In all honesty, you thought the videos that popped up on your YouTube recommended page of a web-slinging human were staged. In your defense, he seemed quite small to be a hero, and it wouldn’t be the first time some kid tried to fool the world with “a new superhero". You remember sending it to Peter and asking him if he thought it was real.

He never answered.

You hadn’t realized you were standing on your porch, staring at the overly large mahogany door in front of you. You sighed and took out your keys, placing them in the lock and twisting it.

You were lucky today was the beginning of the weekend. You wouldn’t be able to face him after seeing what you just saw. You didn’t know how to feel. You didn’t know what to do. Should you let him know that you know?

Should you let anyone know that you know?

That was the worst part about this whole thing. You had no one to turn to. No one to talk to about this, and there definitely wouldn’t be a wikiHow page on how to deal with something like this.

So, you ruled it out. One of the choices was obviously keeping the secret to yourself and not telling Peter you knew his identity. It would keep things from getting too awkward to handle and would keep him safe.

The other choice, the really horrible one, was to let everyone know. A part of you was still mad at what he’d done. You mean, he didn’t even try to apologize as he should’ve. That evil part of you, the hurt part, wanted revenge — wanted you to ruin Peter like he did you.

You knew people would believe you if you told them. You knew they’d find their ways to figure out if it’s true or not. But for some reason, you were hesitant. Yes, Peter ruined your life. Yes, Peter broke you in ways you believed were beyond mendable.

But Peter was also the boy who gave you his last Iron-Man bandaid when you scraped your elbow the first time you met. He’s the boy who pushed your bully and got punched in the face for it when you were ten. He’s the boy who saved your life the other day - the boy who saves dozens of strangers every week.

It was clear which option was better.

Keeping his secret didn’t mean you forgave him, though.

After everything, you didn’t know if you allowed yourself to forgive him. Part of you wanted you to, pleaded you to for the sake of moving on, but the more stubborn part of you remembered the pain you went through; the nights you spent crying yourself to sleep, the newfound insecurities of not being enough for anybody, the fear that others will leave you behind like he did.

Hell, you had a locked note in your notes app that contained a long speech about how you felt — about how he made you feel. The one you were to send him — but ended up deleting.

You groaned and rubbed your head, feeling an oncoming headache from the questions. You stayed in your house that weekend, trapped with a racing mind and no answers to slow it down.

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

You started noticing Peter act differently towards you when your freshman year of high school was close to ending. It started off with him rescheduling long-awaited plans and then showing up late, but you didn’t mind. He had told you he scored an internship at Stark Industries, and you swore you’d never felt prouder in your entire life.

He informed you that he could be called in at any given moment, which was his reason for leaving in the middle of your hangouts. You understood, and so, you encouraged him to do so.

But then, as time went by, you noticed a change. Instead of postponing the plans, he’d cancel them all together and wouldn’t make up for them. And sometimes, in the rare occasion in which he did postpone them, he’d stand you up, keeping you awake until you were on the brink of sleep.

He apologized multiple times for doing so, blaming it on the time the internship took for him, and you let it go, even when it became a pattern to leave you stranded.

You were okay with it.

Until it became too much.

During lunch, you could never find him, which ended up with you eating alone. During the only class you shared with him, he’d zone out while you were talking and completely ignore you. You’d normally come out of your last period ready to see him standing by your locker to begin your journey home, but he stopped being there, and you would walk home alone.

Texts and calls went unnoticed, and you felt the barrier he had placed between the two of you grow higher and higher as the time passed by.

What bothered you is that it was just with you. He acted completely normal around Ned. You often saw them chatting and laughing while you watched from afar, heart breaking into two as you wondered where you went wrong. You inspected every text message you sent and every conversation you had, often staying up late re-reading it until you reached the top. You just didn’t understand what happened.

One day, you approached him after school, running after him as he bolted through the school’s gates into the outside.

“Hey!” You called as you caught up to him and grabbed his arm, which flexed beneath your grip. You sighed and slightly loosened your grasp, “Can, um, can we talk?”

Peter visibly gulped, hesitantly nodding as his eyes bounced around your figure, never looking at you.

“Peter.” You ran a hand through your hair, carefully choosing your next words as to approach this topic cautiously, “What’s going on with you? You..you’ve been acting weird and distant. D-did do something?”

“I’m not acting weird,” Peter said, almost offendedly, quick to defend himself.

“Peter we haven’t hung out in weeks because you’ve been canceling them.” You retaliated.

“I told you, I-it’s the internship.”

You frowned, heart clenching at the tiredness that seeped into his voice, “I know.” You gave him a small smile, hoping for one in return, “I’m your best friend. I’m always here for you, you know.”

“I-“ He sharply inhaled, scratching the back of his head with his shaking left hand. “I don’t want you to be.”

Your smile instantly dropped, feeling a painful nudge in your stomach, “What?”

“I don’t..this isn’t working, Y/n. We can’t be friends anymore. I’m done.” He said. And so easily, too.

I’m done, he’d said.

Your heart stopped for a moment, taken aback by his bluntness and the harshness that came with his words, “What? Why? N-no.” You denied, "You’re just gonna leave? You can’t do that, I..What did I do?”

“Nothing. It’s just..it’s just better this way.” Peter visibly gulped, looking around the streets like he wasn’t standing there, breaking your fragile heart into pieces while you were trying your hardest to not fall apart right in front of him.

Dignity was still a thing. But so was your friendship.

“I can’t fix this if you won’t let me, Pete.” You pleaded, hoping he’d admit that something was wrong - that it wasn’t you that he was pushing away, that there was a reason for him doing so. You could fix this. You could.

“There’s nothing to fix. I don’t want to be friends, that’s it.” He shrugged, shuffling backward, getting ready to make a run from it.

“No,” you stopped him, grabbing his hand softly, despite the tears that already ran down your face, “There has to be a reason! Y-you can’t just leave like that! Give me a reason! WHAT DID I DO?!”

When he didn’t respond, you gave his loose hand a squeeze and wiped your tears with your sleeve, already feeling stupid for the amount of vulnerability you were displaying, especially when you weren’t getting any sort of reaction out of him besides coldness.

“Peter. Peter, please, just l-let me fix this.” You said, voice cracking, "You’re all I have left. Please don’t do this.”

You were begging. You knew you were, but you couldn’t let him leave without putting up a fight. You were a step away from begging on your knees, but you didn’t. You were able to stop yourself from doing so, but you still believed you could get through whatever this is - you were so sure of it.

But you never did.

And you swore he had ripped your heart from your chest, stepped on it, and nonchalantly walked away, leaving you to deal with the pain of the heartbreak on the sidewalk.

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#peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker fluff #peter parker angst #peter parker x y/n #tom holland #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland fanfic #tom holland x reader #tom holland angst #spiderman #spiderman x reader #marvel

101 notes · View notes

yandere-society · 4 years

Text

Moonlight

Pairing: Taehyung x Female Reader

Synopsis: Taehyung was a man of many things: handsome, young, rich, the reigning lord of the Kim manor. He was a man adored, a man respected. But beneath the studly exterior, he held a dark, demonic secret that floated towards the surface once every full moon. It was this secret that would unknowingly entangle you in his claws until there was no way out.

Word Count: 7.2k

Warnings: Yandere themes, Possessive Tae, Werewolves, Kidnapping mention, Sexual assault, Murder, Death, also it’s unedited cause I hate myself

Headline: Beast Of The Night Strikes Again! 2 Dead, Several Injured

Admin: @roses-ruby

The town suffers through another full moon of terror as the one described as the ‘dog beast’ struck again late last night. Lawmen are baffled at the carnage, describing the victims torn limbs and missing hearts as an act- “most definitely inhumane.” Townsfolk have stated that they heard the creature growl and moan for hours on end until it seemingly disappeared near the Kim manor. As for the owner of the manor, Kim Taehyung - an attractive bachelor who inherited his great grandfather’s land - refused to comment and dismissed the claims of such a being as “ludicrous and delusional.” Whatsoever it may be, the fact of the matter is that there is someone or something raging with bloodlust every time the moon shines its brightest and it might just be out for your heart next.

“It is truly incredible how some of the most credible news sources have begun to sound so half-witted these days… ‘attractive bachelor?’ Seems like you’re up for auction in the middle of this tragic incident…”

“It is a small town with unusually large tales…they’ll do anything to sell their trashy story…” He runs his fingers through his long black locks, a small huff of irritation leaving his lips.

“A story that will keep children up past midnight I’m sure…” The older gentleman places today’s paper back on the table and walks up to where the younger stood, matching his distant stare out the window. “The flowers were exceptionally beautiful in this year’s bloom. Such a shame they’ll be dead soon.”

It was a passive observation, one he didn’t have to respond to; however, it was his nature to always hold a firm stance on even the slightest of interactions. He hums in agreement, gazing out towards the colorfully green garden that his study overlooked. But rather than admiring the beauty of the large field, his eyes were instead hooked on a small figure bustling about the grounds in a long black dress.

“Master,” A calm voice interrupted him from his trance, “Shall I adjust your schedule in case you were to head into town today?”

His long-time butler, Seung, bowed quietly in his direction.

“No need.” He replies mindlessly.

“Now, now,” His uncle next him chuckled, the wrinkles around his eyes deepening, “It would do you good to show your handsome bust among the public. Your presence as Lord might provide some comfort…”

As if he should be the one comforting weeping mothers and terrified children.

He was about to decline the smiling face of this man who bore him nothing but animosity, but he was interrupted by his uncle’s careless gaze suddenly modifying into something additionally sinister.

“Or is it that you’re too tired for such a simple task? You look as if you have not slept in ages. Are you doing alright, perhaps?”

Other than the shiver that ran down Taehyung’s spine at his foxiness, he was unfazed by the weighty question. Usually, his feigned concern would make him chuckle, if he wasn’t so emotionally exhausted from last night’s events.

“I’m fine.” He turns to Seung without missing a beat, “Uncle is right. Get the carriage ready, I will be heading into town today.”

“Yes, Master.” Seung bows, but before he could quietly leave the room, Taehyung calls for him again. “And get my Uncle’s carriage ready for departure as well. I am sure at his age he would love nothing more than to be resting at home this very moment.”

There was a small confrontational silence between the senior and him after his loaded remark. But it vanished the very next second when his Uncle began to chuckle loudly, as if there was nothing but mirth between the two of them.

“You are right on the mark, young lad. As sharp as ever I see.” He spins around, walking back to the table he once sat at “I shall be out of your hair soon.”

Taehyung watches him as he picks up the paper he had been scrutinizing before he commences his departure from the chamber.

“Are you perhaps interested in the dog beast?”

“Why, not at all,” He responds calmly, turning to the younger with the same somber expression as before, “I just need some entertainment for the road. Surely, you don’t mind?”

He did not. For now, he desired his uncle’s departure the most. It was not as if he could see his own forthcoming demise stained in the ink of that paper.

Autumn’s cool breeze surrounds your body as you tend to the large grounds of the Kim manor, trimming off uneven stems from a massive rose bush.

“___,” A frantic voice suddenly calls your name, capturing your attention as your gaze falls down onto a petite figure dressed in a similar maid’s uniform running towards you, “___! Did you hear?”

“About?”

“Today’s paper!” Seulgi spoke out of breath, like it was the most obvious thing, “Those men…aren’t they the same lads who-”

“SSHHH!” You hiss, blocking her loudmouth with your palm. Her whines against your hand were similar to that of an adolescent as you whirled your head around the garden, making sure no one was near your vicinity. “I told you not to speak a word of that!”

Seulgi successfully tugs you off of her, “I know! But is it not bizarre? That beast attacked those men!”

“There is no beast!” You growled, “Everyone in town was aware that Wan and his men were good-for-nothing hooligans! They probably wandered into the forest late at night, drunk and belligerent, and attracted a bear!”

“Hmm, perhaps…” Seulgi pouts, “But what about the articles? All those farmers who lost their cattle the same exact way… with their hearts missin-”

“I’m sure those are nothing but carnivorous rodents.” You huff in irritation, picking up the sheers to return to your work. The girl besides you threw a tantrum using her feet, and you wonder when exactly it was that you befriended such a child. “Are you even done with your station or will I have to do that for you again after the Housekeeper is done scolding you?”

This manages to scare her off, and you watch her retreating figure in slight humor before turning back to the rosebush. As you snap another set of leaves, you manage to take a glance at the window of the lord’s study, apprehensively watching his back disappear further into his room.

All you’ve wanted from this manor and its lords was a chance to toil quietly – in peace. Your simple servant status does not offend you, rather it provides you security in relations with the world. You were not interested in meddling with anyone’s affair, especially with those who lived in powerful and dangerous realities. So, it does not matter.

What you saw last night, near the clearing behind the manor does not matter. It had nothing to do with you, and you were planning on keeping it that way.

Lord Kim was annoyed.

Really though, when was he not? As the carriage decelerates into the gates of his estate, his exhaustion only multiplies. Faking a straight face and an empty gaze took its toll on him, even if he had been playing theater his whole life. It was hard enough to keep up with this perfect charade as the lord of the manor, but it had just gotten worse with time…and with the incidents.

He was reluctant to head into town, leer over dismembered bodies and chat with the commissioner, but did so anyway thanks to his uncle’s instigation. It wasn’t like he had much of a choice - any sign of weakness would invite his extended family to sink their teeth and claws into him, wringing him dry within a matter of minutes. His father died too early and Taehyung did not bear a successor yet, so whoever would be the first to either exhaust, kill or seduce him would eventually take his place as lord. After being unfortunate enough to witness countless amounts of cruelty from them since age eight, he knew he had to keep his farce strong.

Common folk would think he was protecting his blessed birthright. But in a deep, hidden corner of his mind, the reality loomed that neither this life nor this manor was blessed in the slightest.

“We’re home, my lord.” His thoughts are interrupted as the carriage stops, the door opening to reveal a flawlessly still Seung waiting for him to disembark.

As he exited his carriage, his shoulders drooping and head spinning, his eyes managed to fall on you in the distance. You stood far away, underneath the stone canopy of the servant’s quarters, next to that bumbling friend of yours with your head bowed as the housekeeper shouted herself silly at the both you. It seems that you have once again found trouble thanks to the petite nitwit by your side.

Yet still, even with your gaze downcast, he could sense the poise in your stance. An aura of composure and self-confidence that has never left your being no matter where you stood, or who stood over you. At first, he just happened to relate to you and the notion of keeping together a tough act. But over time, he came to realize that you weren’t acting at all – that you, a mere servant, were as perfectly assured as you seemed.

It made him envious.

“Master?” Seung pulled him back to reality.

He turned away, scuffing his expensive shoes amongst the gravel to head into the direction of his manor. Yet still, after the small sight of you, he couldn’t help but smile to himself for the first time that night.

“Dinner is served.”

A tray was lifted to reveal a large pot of thick, saucy white soup. He had wanted something light ever since the previous night, and the chef had delivered quite nicely. Taehyung sits patiently, waiting to be served as the maidservants walk into the room with the housekeeper. His eyes immediately land on you out if habit, and he wonders if you were to tend to him tonight. But to his surprise, it’s your friend who comes up to the table to oblige him his dinner instead. She takes a ladle and dips it into the soup – just a minute, she forgot to pick up his soup bowl?

Realizing she forgot the bowl; she looks startled for a bit before she hovers a hand underneath the ladle and walks closer to his direction. He has to try really hard not to burst out into a fit of laughter as he witnesses you shake in fear at her antics. Seems like he was not the only one distracted because the very next second your friend trips over her own foot on the way to his bowl and loses her grip on the soup-filled ladle, which flies towards him.

And in an instant, his whole head was wet and runny with his dinner. It was quiet for the first minute – which appeared to have stretched out into hours for the servants – until many different voices began shouting at once.

“Y-young Master! T-Towel- I shall fetch a towel!”

“MY LORD!”

“My lord! I-I-I apologize I-!”

He glanced at you out of the corner of his eye. Your face was stiff in horror as you watched the creamy soup drip off his hair. Seung ran back into the room with a towel in his arm as the housekeeper bellowed at your friend.

Before Seung could wipe his hair, Taehyung held his wrist and took the towel into his own hands. Then he stood up, surprising the whole room, even the shrieking housekeeper, shut. He lightly wiped the edges of his bangs for a minute in silence, feeling the wet soup drool into his shirt before he turned towards your friend.

“Well, what a mess…” He stated absentmindedly, watching the girl shrink under his gaze until she became as small as a pebble. She seemed to be trying her utter best not to cry.

“Lord…” A soft, but confident voice interrupted the dead silence of the room. You stepped up next to your friend, your head down as you cleared your throat, “It…It is my fault actually…”

Your friend turns to you in shock. Everyone in the room was now glancing at you; the servants with petrified eyes and Taehyung with amused ones.

“Explain yourself.”

“Th-that…I spoke about the dog beast who was in today’s paper to miss Kang and…and I seem to have frightened her which is why she’s been a bit distracted…b-but it is my fault, so I deserve the punishment.”

“N-no!” You friend suddenly cries in a strained voice and you elbow her to keep shut. She opens and closes her mouth like a fish, before complying to your implication with her eyes squeezed shut tight. The servants all held their breath, waiting for the lord’s next move. They all seem to flinch when he sighs,

“…I see…” Taehyung holds in a chuckle, “You’re right miss ___, this indeed seems to be your fault…”

Seulgi quietly whines in her throat and you wish she could for once read your mind and jam her loud trap.

“…Well then,” Taehyung’s deep voice captures your full attention, “Meet me in my room an hour before midnight. I shall decide on your punishment by then.”

No one said anything further, but they all seemed to be thinking of the exact same thing. Even Seung appeared disturbed. But…it just couldn’t be… The lord has never even taken an interest in women much less bed with one. You, too astonished to remember your place, straightened your posture and stared at him straight in the eye for the very first time. There wasn’t any hint of jest or error, which left you further baffled at the Lord’s request.

No, perhaps it was just you who misunderstood.

“Y-yes Lord.” You manage to spit out.

At your approval the lord smiles, which startles you out of your insolence. You return to your humble position as the Lord begins to walk away from the room.

“Seung, prepare my bath.” Taehyung calls out in glee.

“…Yes, master…”

You sigh, standing in front of the thick wooden door of your Lord’s master chamber.

“Well, there goes the goal of keeping from trouble…” You whisper to yourself in defeat. And thanks to that gigantic fool Seulgi, you were late to your own punishment trial. She would not stop crying and apologizing, even though you told her it was now your problem, so she has nothing to be sorry about.

Still, the main dilemma for you in this moment was not her, but your current circumstances. Why were you called out to the Lord’s chamber an hour before midnight? The sensitive time frame would provide anyone the wrong impression, not just you. If he really were to ask you to…bed with him…what then?

You quickly shake your head no. It was not healthy for you to have such thoughts about your Lord. Since adolescence, you had been a reasonable girl who was guided by logic. There was no rationality in this idea and you’re sure Lord Kim had a good excuse for calling you out so late – an excuse that has nothing to do with...whatever you were just thinking. After pulling yourself together with a deep breath, you knock on the wood three times.

“Come in.” You immediately hear, which allows you to nervously turn the handle and push open the door.

There stood Lord Kim, by the end of the bed, in his sleepwear. His hair was a mess of slight, drooping curls, possibly the aftermath of his bath, and his stare was a lot more lax than normal. You gulped quietly under his gaze, stepping into the room and letting the door shut behind you.

“You’re late, miss ___.” His voice was deep, but soft. It felt as if he was trying to jester you.

“I-I apologize, my Lord. I was held up by the housekeeper…”

It was a lie and you did feel guilty, but it would also be immensely satisfying to witness that old witch being chided.

“My, my, it seems like she is always after you and that friend of yours,” You could hear what sounded like mischief in his tone, “Which reminds me, she came to speak to me.”

“The housekeeper?”

“No, your friend. She told me you lied for her.”

That was the last straw. You were going to kill that idiot.

“I…I…S…” What were you to say now? Should you apologize for your dishonesty?

“I think it’s commendable.” You were interrupted from your thoughts by your Lord’s words. When you meet his eyes, you see him smiling gently in your direction. “You tried to protect your friend. It takes a good heart for that.”

“Thank you, sire…” You weren’t sure how to adequately respond - if he really was complimenting you. Your uncertainty stemmed from your upbringing; rather than a trait to compensate, behaving and caring for your younger siblings was regarded as your duty. It was also why maid work came so easily to you. And Seulgi, with her childish nature yet endearing personality, reminded you of those you tended to back home, so you considered looking after her a mere responsibility.

“I do like that nature of yours.” He proceeds casually, making you blush. “But I still have to punish you for your dishonesty.”

You nod your head, eyes falling to the floor. Even without gaping at him, you were aware of how strong his gaze was. It was only natural to get disciplined as a servant, but for it to come from Lord Kim himself made you fearful.

“Miss ___, sleep with me.”

Your head whirls up to meet his stare, shock painting your face.

“W-”

“Please don’t misunderstand me.” He sighs, running a hand through his hair, “Although you’re quite beautiful, I only desire your lap.”

…

What?

“I-” Your Lord stutters, facing away from you and crossing arms in embarrassment, “I just…these days I have been having some trouble sleeping. Many peers have remarked on my dark circles and laxing attitude. This won’t do! As the Lord of the Kim manor, I have to appear fully rested and in the best condition at all times or else.”

He turns back to your direction,

“W…when I was a young lad…I would sleep on my mother’s lap. It was the most comforting of places to me and sleep was never a cause for concern back then. Which is why…I wanted to seek that same comfort once more…so that I may be able to rest heartedly and prepare myself to face the world of politics tomorrow. I just…I was wondering if I could borrow your lap for a few nights?”

It was quiet after his explanation. Your mind gradually processing all the information in his tale. He appeared to be immensely nervous, as if waiting for you to decline. You had to hide your amusement.

“I am ready for my punishment, my Lord.”

The young Lord smiles, which has your heart racing. Surely, he was a beautiful man.

“Thank you. Please sit on the bed, near my headboard.” He orders bashfully.

You swung another sheet over the clothing line.

Days had passed since your initial ‘punishment,’ and today would mark the first whole month of you lending your lap to your Lord. Your nightly time with the Lord had become an occurrence you cherished. There was so much you managed to learn about the man who rested on you – like how he scrunches his nose when he encounters a nightmare or how he moans only when he is in his deepest of slumbers. He was different than how you originally imagined; his cold exterior was nothing but a farce. In reality, he was so childlike and so innocent.

So different from other men.

Yes, that’s right, he was nothing like Wan. Remembering that scoundrel had you shivering in your legs from disgust. You usually didn’t have the most pleasant encounters with the men in town, but Wan had been a special case. Although you did not wish to think ill of the dead, there was nothing ever good about that man, and frankly you’re not very upset that he’s gone.

You remember the day much too clearly; it was a week before he would meet his demise. The housekeeper had sent you and Seulgi into town on a shopping errand – she wanted you to pick up meat and vegetables for dinner. It wouldn’t be the first time you went into town for a chore, but it would certainly be the most unpleasant.

As you and Seulgi stepped out of the farmer’s store carrying a load of groceries in a paper bag you held with both arms, you spotted Wan and his friends walking towards you from the opposite direction. They were cackling loudly, drunk in the middle of the day and out of their minds. You paid them no attention, ready to head back to the manor but your unwitty friend stared straight at them until Wan eventually made eye contact with her.

“Well, well, well,” He slurred in your direction, catching your gaze, “If it isn’t the whores of Kim manor!”

Because of his brash nature, everyone’s regard fell on the two of you. You tried to look unfazed by his disgusting behavior, taking Seulgi by the hand and leading her around the men. But Wan interjected your path as his friends laughed on.

“We need to get back. Leave us alone.” You stated calmly

“Why, we won’t keep you for long,” He grinned, and you recoiled from the alcohol in his breath, “Besides, they won’t miss you- them rich folk. Isn’t that right, fellas?”

His friends began to shout and woo, enclosing in on you almost completely, and you could feel Seulgi shaking behind you.

“We need…to get back.” You say once again, cursing at yourself when your voice cracks. Wan throws his head back and laughs as hard as he could while the townsfolk just observe the show. Anger begins to well up alongside the fear and you purse your lips, picking up your feet and tugging Seulgi along.

It didn’t matter if you had to bulldoze through him, you were going to get back to Kim manor no matter what. So you step close, ready to collide into him before he suddenly sidesteps. Thinking he was distracted; you weren’t prepared for his swift movement and you certainly weren’t prepared to feel a hard thwack on your backside. A breath of surprise leaves your throat and the feeling in your arms disappear, which lets the paper bag fall out of your grasp, spilling its contents along the street. You stare at the ground, paralyzed by shock as Seulgi meekly cries out your name.

“Wan, you mad lad!” Someone from his group yells, clasping their hand into his in jest while they all express their amusement at your humiliation. The group aggressively howls, making perverse remarks before eventually continuing down the road, fully disregarding your presence. They left, without any consequences. As if they didn’t just horribly disgrace you.

“___...” Seulgi steps up to your side, crying her eyes out in worry. If this was another time you would console her – scold her for being a crybaby – but at the moment you could think of nothing. You had been a maidservant for almost a decade now and even then, you had never been treated so awfully. What’s worse is that they all saw…they all saw and said nothing.

Not wanting to waste a minute further, you fall to your knees and start gathering the vegetables that fell about. Seulgi calls your name again but you focus on your task. You have to stay composed, you have to stay composed – you repeat it to yourself like mantra. But that sensation of emptiness returns, and you freeze. Before you knew it, you were trembling on the floor with tears streaming down your face and everyone still watched on.

“___.” Seulgi wrapped herself around you tightly. For a moment your fortitude was shattered as you cried in her arms on that dirty street.

Wan was most definitely scum, you conclude with a huff as you finish straightening the laundered bedsheet. But still, you halt, dying the way he did…it’s something you wouldn’t wish on anyone. Your mind wanders back to that paper, torn limbs and missing hearts. Could it possibly be related to what you saw that night on the previous full moon? With a frown, you stare up at the sky, watching the whiffs of white clouds swirl through the blue fabric.

“___!” You hear the familiar shouts of your name and turn to see Seulgi running towards you. “___, there you are!”

“What is it this time?” You sigh as she encloses in on you

“___, is it true that you are consummating with the Lord?”

Dropping the sheet out of your hands, you spin towards the loudmouthed idiot, “W-w-w-where did you hear that?”

“The other maidservants were whispering on it,” She replies with an innocent grin, “Is he as good as the rumors say?”

“A-a-a-as the w-what? What rumors- what- consummate- a-are you out of your mind?” You were blushing from head to toe.

Seulgi looks dejected at your response, “So it isn’t true?”

“Of course not!”

“Ohh,” She groans sullenly, “But I guess it would be impossible for a lord to take interest in maidservants like us.”

Your bashfulness vanishes in an instant. She was correct, there is absolutely no reason for you to find yourself special. Lord Kim had made it clear that he has no interest in you, he just requires a lap and is too proud to ask someone close. This was originally a punishment for you and nothing more – you shouldn’t become too attached.

“___?” Seulgi’s voice was low, “Are you alright? You seem down…”

“…I’m fine.” You mutter, composing yourself, “But more importantly…why are you here to ask me about baseless gossip? Are you done with your station? Remember you have to use the right tools- just scrubbing vigorously doesn’t work-”

“Oh my god- yes, yes, yes!” She responds by childishly covering her ears, “I have to use the coil sponge not the foam one, I get it!”

You begin to scold her as she laughs, prancing around the grass without a care. But soon the humor dies down and it was time to return to work. Before she leaves for her station, she makes a passive comment.

“Tonight’s another full moon. In the night of Samhain.” There was something dim about her tone as she gazes up towards the sky. You join her, wondering if she somehow had the same bad premonition as you did.

While you were chatting with your friend, Taehyung was having tea with a man he’d rather throw into a river.

“What brings you here?”

“My, do you sound cold.” His uncle chuckles, taking another sip of his tea, “Am I not allowed to visit my nephew out of fondness?”

“Well, after twenty-so years, consider me surprised.” Taehyung deadpans, which only further humors the elder.

“Perhaps I do have a motive.” He grins for a moment before all signs of amusement vanish from his expression. “I could not help but toil my mind over that paper from before. The townsfolk swore they heard the dog beast growl late into the night before fading behind Kim manor.”

“I thought we agreed the paper was nothing more than gossip fodder.”

“And perhaps that’s all it is.” His uncle’s smile was innocent but held such contempt. “However, as a gentleman who resides in the city, I find myself quite inclined by the mysteries of small towns such as this.”

“What nonsense,” Taehyung scoffs, “Are you saying you wish to investigate this supernatural rubbish the townsfolks gripe about?

“Indeed! The dog beast is nothing but rubbish!” The elder’s laughter was hearty, “But then, there is the question of who killed those men?”

The room was silent, drowning in the animosity the two men felt for one another. Neither one spoke – his Uncle because he had nothing more to say and Taehyung because he felt his throat clogging. He wanted to decline, desperate to splurge words of refusal, but then the fact that he had something to hide becomes too apparent.

“Surely, you won’t mind me staying? Just for one night?”

“Stay as you wish, uncle.”

You were already situated on his bed when your Lord swung the door open.

The sound made you jump, and you immediately rose to your feet to show respect. He began walking towards you in a fast, heavy pace with his feet striking the wood. His face had you unnerved – anger in his frown as well as what you could only describe as dismay in his eyes. Before you could open your mouth to react, you were taken into his arms in a sudden and swift motion.

It left your mind blank.

He squeezed himself onto you, his chest colliding with yours as his scent surrounded your senses. Your arms were hovering his back while your fingers curled into themselves, unsure of your position at the moment. Lord Kim hugged you tight, as if he was afraid.

“M-my Lo-”

“Tonight.” He interjected, muffling into neck as he laid his head on your shoulder, “Do not let me go tonight, whatever you do. Hold onto me as tight as you possibly can, do you hear me? Do not let me wander, I beg you.”

His tone broke your heart. He sounded so frightened – so desperate and you had no clue on how to help him. The Lord has always been the strength of this household. No one had ever witnessed him so distressed, not even at the previous Lord’s funeral. Hesitantly, you placed your fingers against his vertebrate and sat back on the mattress, guiding him gently down with you.

“I won’t let you go, my Lord.” You didn’t know what else to say.

He placed his head on your lap, arms still clinging onto you like a child. His mind seemed to be in the middle of a warzone against himself. The memory of a young man sitting in front of his father’s casket, immobile and silent as a rock, was still so vivid to you. You had only been at Kim Manor for a few months back then, and you remember being disturbed by his attitude – wondering if he had any feelings at all. But after learning about how often his extended family plotted against him, to the point of kidnapping him as an eight-year-old, you began to view that tearless boy with pity.

Watching him tremble in your lap has you reaching out to him. Your digits tread into his soft hair and you slowly move them about to calm his tremors. He seems to respond; his quivers coming to a slight halt at your touch.

You don’t know for how long you rubbed his head, listening to him breath.

You don’t know when you fell asleep.

His whole body was aching as he walked towards the grass, trying to ease the sharp pain in his head.

He had been taught that the best place to alter was out in an open, murky environment. Somewhere you could feel the air on your skin as the patches of hair slit through your pores like needles through fabric. Yet still, somewhere impenetrable through the naked eye. There was an area like so behind Kim manor – a clearing that was connected to a large acre of uninhabited woods. And among those acres laid several swamps and bogs, which formed a thick layer of fog around the grounds of the manor – most prominent on the night of the full moon.

It was the perfect place for him, who had been poisoned with this modification.

With his mind as cloudy as the fog, he thinks back to the first time he witnessed his father alter. He was far too young, a month away from ten, when he was brought out to this clearing and visually counseled on his dreadful future. More than anything he wanted to look away, he did not wish to see his beloved father become this monster, but Seung held his hand tight and told him to hold witness for his very own sake. And he witnessed – witnessed his father thrash about as if he wanted to claw his own brains out and he cried.

He cried along with his father. But there was never any other option for him than to tolerate the dread from his place as heir to Kim manor.

It was always painful, every moment his heart pumped blood into his body, he moaned in agony. While the night raged on, he noticed his panting grew deeper by the second – tone sinking to a gruff growl which rips through his chest. His eyes and sense of smell grew keener, large nails grotesquely rip through his skin and his teeth began to enlarge. The image of the moonlight basking on his skin was the only thing offering him refuge.

If he had a choice, he would have chosen to stay inside with the warm you, stare enchantedly at your resting face like the many instants he’s done before. But his changes weren’t just physical. In this state he was bigger, louder, hairier, teethier – more aggressive. His desire for blood was intense but ever since he met you, so was this raw lust. As a rational man with a sense of morals, this perverse craving ashamed him, yet the beast inside did not care for his customs. It wanted to possess you, every ounce of you, thoroughly. To mate with you in a way that wasn’t meant for humans. Being around you in this condition would break the mental leash he chains this deviant with.

Although every time he alters, he feels it loosening. There was something wrong with him – his father and grandfather were able to restrain the beast from rampaging throughout town. But he, on the other hand, had been consuming the town as his sole hunting grounds for some months now. Which is why the “dog beast,” once a mere legend mentioned every decade, was printed in previous months paper.

It is as if the creature wishes to mock him and the slipping control.

Drenched in sweat and agony, he knew the transformation was almost complete when he suddenly heard a small noise. He immediately spun around and met the petrified eyes of his uncle.

Neither of the men spoke – both gaping at each other with pure, unfiltered fear. The chill of the night establishes its presence in the worst moment possible. Taehyung was afraid for reasons too many, none he could not lucidly list. He recalls what occurred the last time the beast was enraged by someone and he desperately wishes not to hurt anyone ever again in this form.

Opposite from him stood his uncle, wondering just one thought out of an infinite. How does a normal man, one untouched by the knowledge of this being, react in this situation?

A normal man would run. A normal man would cower in fear. A normal man would beg for his life. But he, the rightful heir to the manor, declined to let this young bastard trample him in such a way. It wasn’t that his uncle was a man without fear. And it wasn’t that he held great courage either, but rather, the very oxygen that burned through him was fueled purely by his stubbornness. He has spent the majority of his life trying to crush first his brother and now his nephew, so when this chance has presented itself so deliciously, he refuses to let it slip through his fingers.

“Y…” His voice was hoarse, throat achingly dry, “What are you?”

Taehyung stands there quietly, unresponsive to the question. Although he was the larger one, he felt so scared and so small. No one had ever spoken to him in this form which is why he was unsure of what to do. He had been a fool, he thought if he could sleep in your arms and you held him tight, he would be able to stop himself from altering tonight.

But now he understood, there was nothing that could.

“You killed those men.” His uncle continues, all on his own. As if he’s suddenly reached enlightenment.

“You do not…understand…” Taehyung shakes his head like a child about to be punished. He didn’t mean to kill anyone. He’s never hurt someone in his whole life. That night, on the previous full moon, it all occurred without any of his own authority.

Taehyung was a despicable man. Wan had hurt you, and he saw it. But rather than step in and intervene – rather than protect you from that scum – he instead just stood by and watched it transpire. No matter how many times he thinks back to it, no matter how often he racks his brain for an answer, he still does not understand why he did nothing. Perhaps he was paralyzed from his own traumas and forced himself to retain his composure – however the beast did not care for his pathetic reasons. It taunted him the whole week leading up to the full moon. Hurt him with insults he knew he merited.

“You’re weak.” It growled, “Weak and puny. I shall protect her myself.”

And then, for the very first time, Taehyung took the life of another human being without any cognizance. What’s worse is that he enjoyed it. That thought alone petrifies him.

“No, I do not understand you. And I do not wish to.”

“Please…” Taehyung begged as he held out his deformed hand to plead with the elder. Did this man think Taehyung desired this life? Did he think he desired this hundred year old curse - originating from a place long before his time - that was forced upon him and on any man who dared to reign over Kim manor. Perhaps despicable, but Taehyung was still softhearted. The reason why he tried so hard to keep his title as Lord was so that no one else would further suffer this abomination, even if it concerned his bastard uncle.

And it’s also the reason he made peace with dying alone, without a bride and without children. He was meant to stand alone. That is...until he met you.

“How dare you. How dare you grovel to me, you servant of the devil.” The disgust and venom in his uncle’s tone made him recoil.

“No-” It was only a matter of time before the beast consumed him whole and he was certain, like before, it would not spare any mercy. The adversity is something Taehyung direly yearns not to repeat.

“I shall bring the priest and the commissioner. I shall tell them what you did. You shall be brought to justice for what you did to those men. You shall suffer in hell when they burn you at the stake!”

“Please- uncle- please listen TO ME-” He clasped his claws against his mouth when his voice became utterly inhumane. The beast was crawling out of his throat and his sanity was slipping. No longer was he able to see what was in front of him and once again he began to fade, like he did all those times before.

“Run!”

Taehyung with the last of his conscious tried his hardest to warn the man and take a dash for the woods but it was far too late.

The last thing he heard was his uncle’s shrill scream, and then all silence for him.

You woke up to a thump.

Or at least you were certain that was what you heard as you sit up on the bed. Your vision was groggy, mind still half asleep as you look in the direction of the sound’s origin. For a minute it was soundless, and then there was another thump. You weren’t sure what it was, but you stood up nonetheless, slowly walking towards the door. Still unaware of your surroundings, you stop in front of the wood, distracted by your own dizziness.

In the tranquility of the room, you caught a noise so faint, you thought perhaps you were still in your nightmare from before. It was immensely faint, but you heard it. The rapid breathing behind the door. Unhurdled by emotions such as caution and reasoning for once, you swung the door open in confusion. And as soon as you did, your own awareness came back to you at full force.

A clothless man stood before you, covered from head to toe in blood and gore. Your breath was stuck in your throat, eyes widening into saucers once you saw the length of his fangs. It took you a full minute realize that it was Lord Kim.

“W…what…” You step back in horror. Perhaps you were still dreaming.

The fear had snuck up around your waist and grabbed you by the throat, leaving you without the ability to move. He gazed at you with eyes that were a bright yellow, yet darker than any man’s you have ever looked into. Your orbs travel down his body as you absorb in his abnormal height, his ripping muscles, his long fingernails and…and his hand.

There was a heart. In his hand, he gripped a fleshy and large organ and you knew it was a heart.

Missing hearts.

“Nooo…please.” You quiver, crying without him ever speaking a word. All signs of alarm were raised in your mind and you don’t even remember what it was for that you came here. Only Seulgi’s words about the dog beast reigned in your ear. The world was spinning as your Lord…as he began to walk towards you. Your life started to flash by your eyes, and you closed them shut tight, so you would no longer have to witness this terror.

“Shhh.” You heard a deep growl before you felt cold and abnormally large fingers on your face. A gasp escapes your throat as he caresses your cheek.

The next thing you knew, you were floating. Your eyes flew open and you saw yourself being carried by him. There was no moment for you to react, as you were subsequently placed upright onto the bed. No longer restrained by his arms, you shifted about in a frenzy.

“Ah…uh…”

“You are mine.” He states as if it was a fact.

Then he comes over you – wrapping his enormous, dirtied limbs around you as you squeak. He lays his head in your lap and you feel the tears leave your eyes as he yet again resembles your Lord. What you had thought of as just a hallucination from the fog was actually reality. That night, on the previous full moon, you woke up and strolled the grounds to clear your head of Wan. It was then that you saw the most horrid of things – you saw a giant dog shrink into a small human who resembled the Lord.

And you had told yourself lies. Told yourself it wasn’t true and told yourself to forget. But all logic was failing you now as a creature from hell winds down on your very own body. You muffle your cries and fear – too afraid to awaken the beast.

Taehyung laid peacefully in your arms; his mind detached from every other thing that did not concern you. The heart he held in his hand had stopped beating a long time ago, but he could still feel it slipping through his fingers. He is not sure, even as a beast, as to why he takes the hearts of victims. Perhaps it has something to do with how it’s his heart that hurts more than anything else each time he alters.

Well, it did not matter now, he thinks as his perception starts to drift. Nothing mattered at the moment – not the heart, nor his uncle’s body, not even your reaction. For this moment, more than anything, he just wants to rest.

To sleep, in your lap, under this cold, beautiful moonlight.

________

A/N: Okay so I really hate this I apologize. I had intended for it to be longer but well :) October has officially been 2020′s busiest month for me...but I hope you enjoy this garbage lmk what you thought!

#bts #kim taehyung #yandere bts #yandere taehyung #bts fluff #bts angst #taehyung fluff #taehyung angst #bts x reader #taehyung x reader

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iamtheblondestblonde · 4 years

Text

Temptation

AN: I... I don’t even know what to say except for I’m so sorry? We had some tech issues at work today and I had this idea while I waited and it didn’t fit with Slides so here’s some plot with porn at the end with Mat? I wrote this in first person narrative but there’s no name or description in it. Also this is my first time writing anything like this and I didn’t spend much time proof-reading so please don’t judge too harshly

AN 2: I wrote a sequel called No Control and you can find it here so please check it out!!

Word count: 7.4k (things escalated what can I say..)

Warnings: cursing and smut, like really explicit content

He was only wearing a towel. Again. Seeing him walking around in nothing but shorts was already bad enough but this was on a whole other level.

When Mat had first invited me to come with him to his lake house by Vancouver to wait this mess out I had been thrilled. Fancy lake house overlooking the water with my best friend definitely sounded better than stuffy Brooklyn apartment in a city crammed with thousands of people infected.

Thankfully my online classes made the journey across the country possible and I only had to fly back for a short while to take my final exams. This wasn’t really how I envisioned my summer after graduating college but it could be worse I guess.

As I took a look at him all glistening wet from his shower on his way over to me by the kitchen island, I felt like I was trapped in an episode of temptation island or something like that.

Neither of us had expected this lockdown to last this long and almost two months of being holed up together was starting to take its toll. I’d known for a fact that I’d go batshit crazy if I were to stay with my own family or my crazy roommate though so his offer had truly been godsend. With the fancy club I usually waitressed at closed there was no way I’d be able to pay for my rent either, so I’d given my landlord my notice, put everything that I wouldn’t take with me in storage and followed Mat across the country.

His family was supposed to be up here with us and that way I’d have his sister as a distraction, but they’d decided to stay in the city, meaning it was only Mat and I. And my sexual frustration.

It didn’t help that my quarantine buddy looked like a fucking Greek god either. Any nun would probably go for him as well, frustrated or not. And I was definitely not a nun.

“Do you want to go paddle boarding after breakfast? The water shouldn’t be too cold today with the sun out.”

I looked out through the large floor to ceiling windows at Mat’s question, I’d been so distracted by him running around practically naked that I hadn’t even noticed that for the first time in three days there were almost no clouds visible. With May well underway British Columbia was apparently finally getting ready for summer.

“Yeah let’s do it. I still have to respond to a couple of emails before we leave tho.”

He took a look over my shoulder at my laptop, water droplets from his hair falling down my neck making me squirm.

“You’re getting me all wet”, I huffed before giving him a shove. Not thinking about the way his muscular shoulders felt underneath my fingers at all. Definitely not thinking about that. Nope.

“You’re the first girl I’ve ever heard complain about that you know?” He winked at me before throwing his head back in laughter as I flipped him off. The flirty banter that had been going on between us ever since we met almost two years ago wasn’t really helping my case either.

I was convinced the only reason why we hadn’t hooked up yet was terrible timing. We’d met at a time when both of us were seeing others and by the time we both were single again the previous months of platonic friendship had set our relationship in stone, never allowing for anything more than playful flirting and teasing. I’d thought about it for a couple of times, because honestly who wouldn’t with the way he looked?

Mat filled a cup with coffee and grabbed some of the breakfast I’d prepared before pulling out the chair next to me, looking at me expectantly. I was still munching on the remainder of my overnight oats so it took me a couple of seconds to swallow before I could ask what the hell he was waiting for.

“For you to finish whatever it is that you need to do. I have nothing else to do”

“I can’t concentrate with you hovering over me like this. Go work out or something.”

Mat had a really nice gym set up in one of the rooms and let me tell you if I had to pick one place to plank for the rest of the life, it would definitely be in there so I could at least watch the calming water while I died such a slow painful death.

“I already worked out, that’s why I just got out of the shower.”

“Well then put some fucking clothes on, you’re not some cave man who can get away with only wearing a loincloth”, I exclaimed, slowly getting flustered with him in such close proximity while knowing that one tuck could expose him completely. He cackled but got up nevertheless, making his way back towards his bedroom.

“Me being naked is yet another thing no one has ever complained about either, you wound me.”

“I’m sure Tito would disagree!”, I yelled, desperate to have the last word so I could at least keep some semblance of control in this situation. I could hear him laugh all the way from the other end of the house and quickly shook my head so I could finally get some things sorted out before he got back.

With the way the sun was shining right now I could probably get away with wearing only a t shirt over my swimsuit, which was a lot better than the full-on wetsuit we’d donned whenever we’d spent our time doing any water activities over the past few weeks. Although Mat in a wetsuit was truly a sight to see, with the way the fabric clung to him so tight that you could see every ridge of his muscles underneath.

I hustled through my emails, ready to relax for the day. Perhaps I could even start on my summer tan already, being out on the water always sped things up. Thankfully I’d bothered to bring lots of clothes and a bit of online shopping had closed any gaps that I had in my wardrobe, this bikini being one of the new acquirements as well. It was super cute and my butt looked really good in it and it would look even better once I finally got my tan going.

Mat was already lounging on the couch in the living room, scrolling through his phone and looking annoyingly perfect as ever. I knew for a fact that he hadn’t done anything with his hair and it looked so soft that I just wanted to push my hands through it. And pull it until he groaned.

“That one’s new”, he immediately said once he lifted his gaze to look at me, pulling me out of my fantasies. I hadn’t put my shirt on yet so he was getting the full view of me in the bikini, which might have been on purpose. I knew that quarantine must be getting to him as well and he wasn’t the only one that could be a tease.

I nodded, biting my lip before twirling around so he could get all angles. “You like?”

This bikini was a little bit skimpier than the ones he’d seen me in before and I could tell by the look in his eyes that he wasn’t as relaxed at the sight as he pretended to be. Finally.

We grabbed our paddles and boards and slowly made our way out on the water. It still took me a couple of minutes to find my balance, no matter how many times I’d done this before but eventually I managed, Mat now slightly ahead of me. If I had my phone with me I would definitely take pictures of him right now, they’d be outdoor magazine worthy.

“Come on slow poke, what’s keeping you?”, he yelled over his shoulder and I was tempted to splash him but I already knew that that would end up in a fight I couldn’t possibly win so I only stuck my tongue out before working to catch up.

At first we kept close to the shore but eventually we slowly made our way out farther onto the lake, laying down on our boards to enjoy the gentle up and down of the water. The sun was hotter than anticipated so both Mat and I ended up taking off our shirts and using them as pillows instead. I closed my eyes to keep me from staring at him, instead relishing in the way the sun warmed my face.

“This is what life should always be like”, Mat sighed contently, breaking the comfortable silence.

“You’d miss hockey eventually. You belong on the ice.”

“Probably. But right now I’m not missing a thing ‘cause I got everything I need right here.”

I didn’t want to look at him out of fear of what I might see on his face, only giving him an affirmative hum instead.

“You’re seriously the best”, Mat sighed after emptying his drink yet again. I had decided that tonight would be taco night and made some margaritas to accompany them, both of us a couple of glasses in by now. It honestly could be a Tuesday but who even knows anymore. I was convinced that at least part of the reason why Mat had asked me to come with him was because he liked my food so much, especially when I cooked Mexican.

The sun was setting over the lake and we were sitting outside on the porch so we could watch the sun set above the water, music playing quietly in the background. He reached for the pitcher and I grabbed the golf club leaning against the sofa we were currently sharing, even though there was lots of space to lounge elsewhere.

Now I didn’t really like golfing, in fact I thought it was among the most boring sports to watch and not much better to play, but I did like to swing at the ball as hard as I could. I’d found some golf balls that would dissolve into food for the fish so for the last couple of hours Mat and I had taken turns in trying to get the ball as far as possible, both of us with a subpar form that only got worse after every margarita.

“No you need to rotate your hips along with the swing”, Mat commented and I threw him a look over my shoulder.

“You’re not much better you know.”

“Yeah but I’m also stronger than you so I can hit harder.”

“I’m not sure if that’s how it works Matty.”

For my next swing I made sure to exaggeratedly turn my hips with the movement, causing me to lose balance of course. In a split second Mat was there, his big hands resting on either side of my hips so I wouldn’t fall.

“Good reflexes”, I giggled, letting my head drop back onto his shoulder so I could look up at him, our eyes locking in an intense stare. He was standing so close to me that I could feel his breath fan across my neck it was very tempting to take the little step that was needed for me to be pressed against him completely. I knew I shouldn’t be thinking about him like this, but the alcohol wasn’t exactly helping.

I could see him swallow hard, closing his eyes for a second before reluctantly letting go of me. “It’s what they pay me millions for you know.”

“Cocky little shit.” And just like that we fell back into our old rhythm again. I pushed any and all dirty thoughts out of my mind and instead focused back on my golf swing.

With every sip I felt myself relax more, the amount of alcohol in the second pitcher definitely stronger than in the first. I knew that Mat felt the effect of the alcohol as well by now, the way his gaze would turn unfocused from time to time giving him away.

I gave him a curious glance when he got up, knowing for a fact that him with a golf club would be a dangerous combination if he tried anything right now. To my surprise he walked over to the box where all the blankets were stashed, pulling out the fluffy grey one that I liked most before spreading it across both of our legs. He surprised me even further when he wrapped his arm around me, pulling me close to his side so I could rest my head on his chest. While behavior like this wasn’t completely unusual for the two of us, it had been a while since we last cuddled. It was as if Mat had been careful to not get too close up until this point, his resolve now gone.

“You know, I really like knowing things and learning how stuff works, but sometimes I just wanna be a kid again who doesn’t have a clue. I remember how I used to think that every star was a little fairy like the ones in Tinkerbell or something, I don’t know. The world used to be so full of wonders and now it’s all science this psychology that, you get me?” I listened to him ramble, the alcohol making him stumble on his words a couple of times as he tried to figure out how to properly articulate himself. I’d listened to his drunk thoughts for years now, still amazed at his ability to get all philosophical out of apparently nowhere.

“Kinda yea, but I also think there’s still lots of wonders left, some of them having to do with science. Why do comatose patients wake up? What must it feel like as a surgeon to be able to give someone a new heart, a new life? How can we know so much and yet still be wrong so many times? So the way I see it there’s still wonders, you just got to know where to look”, I finished my rant, looking up only to see Mat intently staring down at me. This wasn’t our first drunk real talk, but the way I was wrapped in his arms somehow made it feel more personal.

“By the way, I think I got lucky because I wasn’t even looking and yet I still somehow ran into you”, I continued, needing him to understand his importance to me all of the sudden. He’d truly been my rock over the past few months, keeping me from going insane as I approached the final stretch of my senior year. He’d reminded me to take care of myself and practically forced me to whenever I didn’t.

I couldn’t even count the amount of times I’d crashed at his place because my roommate was having some kind of crazy rager in our apartment, effectively making it impossible to study. He’d even offered up his spare bedroom once he moved into his new apartment but I declined because I wouldn’t be able to afford the rent at this place and I wasn’t about to leech off of him when I had other options.

“You are my wonder too, you know. I couldn’t have wished for a more supportive friend.” I smiled up at him, drunk happiness mixed with genuine love for the guy that had slowly turned into the most important person in my life. We’d come quite far.

It didn’t take long until the both of us were yawning so frequently that it was impossible to keep up a conversation, quickly gathering everything so we could go back inside. I hadn’t even realized how cold it had gotten until Mat’s arm dropped from my shoulder and my legs were exposed again from underneath the blanket.

“You wanna have a sleepover?”, Mat asked grinning at me cheekily while walking across the living room. Never one to say no to cuddling with Mat, even before all this quarantine horniness, I nodded before dashing off to my room to get ready.

Mat was already snuggled under the covers and he lifted up one side as soon as he saw me getting closer. He liked to be the big spoon and because that was one of the best feelings in the world I basically let him do whatever until he deemed our sleeping position comfortable. He’d definitely pulled me a little tighter than he usually did, our bodies now practically touching from head to toe.

He’d tangled up one of his legs with mine and my back was flush to his chest, his face nuzzled into the back of my neck. He had wrapped one arm around my waist so even if I wanted to leave or move, I wouldn’t be able to. It was like a big perfect Mat cocoon.

As I laid there listening to his breathing slowing down I thought back to what Mat had said on the paddle board a couple of days ago, about how he had everything he needed right here with him. I knew that that wasn’t exactly true because he missed his family and even if he denied it I knew he missed hockey as well, but he’d also admitted to needing me with him and I would be lying if I said that I didn’t feel the same.

A few rays of sunshine had lit up Mat’s bedroom the next morning, but that wasn’t what had woken me up. Mat was calling for me from the ensuite bathroom and I could faintly make out the sound of water running.

“I need you to bring me your shampoo, I’m all out”, he yelled and I groaned before slowly rolling out of bed. In daylight I could make out the mess his room had become, clothes littering the floor and every other surface and I almost stumbled over a set of weights on my way out of the door.

I grabbed my shampoo out of my shower and even reached for the conditioner for good measure. His hair had gotten so long by now that it would surely appreciate the extra attention.

Making my way into the bathroom I was faced with a problem that I hadn’t thought of up until this point. The lake house was pretty new, meaning the interior design was cozy yet still modern. Meaning all bathrooms were equipped with big glass showers. Meaning that there was currently no shower curtain preventing me from seeing Mat fully naked in the shower.

I could close my eyes but I would 100% trip over his clothes that he’d strewn all across the bathroom floor so my only option was to try and keep my eyes up high. Keyword being ‘try’. At least he had his back turned to me but I was still mesmerized by the water running down his body and the way his back muscles rippled as he reached up to push his hair out of his face. And that ass..

I slowly approached the shower, praying that he wouldn’t turn around to face me but also kind of hoping he would. I opened the door a little bit so I could set the bottles down inside and thankfully he stayed put.

“Don’t put the conditioner on your roots or your hair will look greasy”, I said on my way out and even I could hear how breathless I sounded, the view having my thoughts run a mile a second.

As soon as I had the bathroom door closed I squeezed my eyes shut to try and regain my composure. The image of him in that shower was one I wouldn’t be able to get rid of for a long time. I couldn’t even take a cold shower to cool down because Mat had my stuff and he’d know something was up if I were to simply rinse myself off and I couldn’t exactly tell him that the sight of him naked had gotten me all hot and bothered.

So instead I decided to use all of my pent up energy to go on a run, hoping for the runner’s high to clear my thoughts. By the time I got back Mat was laying in the corner of the couch, an episode of The Office on the big flatscreen.

“We need to go to the store later”, I reminded him, knowing that I couldn’t walk in on him naked again without losing the little control I had left in my body. He nodded and then looked me up and down and for a second I was embarrassed. Even with only wearing running shorts and a sports bra I was still drenched in sweat, probably looking disgusting.

At least he’d put my stuff back so I could finally shower in peace, my thoughts still wandering back to earlier this morning. I wouldn’t have turned him down before all of this shit started but now that I only had my own hands and trusted toy to take care of myself, I was borderline desperate. Two months without sex was the longest dry spell I’d had in years and I couldn’t imagine Mat feeling any different. I knew from firsthand experience that he brought lots of girls home as well. Perhaps he needed something to happen as much as I did.

It was hard to believe that his shampoo had just been empty all of a sudden without him noticing first and then there was the fact that for the past few days he’d been parading around the house in only his boxers or towels.

Two can play this game, I thought to myself, pulling on a comfy shirt and some tight booty shorts, foregoing a bra which he was bound to notice because of how it stretched over my chest.

I pretended not to notice how Mat almost choked on the sip of water he’d just taken as I made my way into the living room, walking over to the kitchen to grab my own bottle. Even if I couldn’t see it to confirm, I was pretty sure that he was staring at my ass as soon as I turned away from him. For good measure I even made sure to lie down with my head in his lap, murmuring something about how he’d taken up the best spot so he really left me no other choice.

The first few minutes he didn’t move an inch, resembling a statue. I knew that he could feel my boobs pressed against his thigh and I made sure to shift a couple of times to make sure before placing one of my hands on his thigh. Eventually he relaxed and even went as far as to rest one of his hands on top of my hand, slowly moving his fingers through the tangles in my still wet hair. When he accidently pulled at a few strands I let out a content sigh while simultaneously digging my nails into his thigh out of habit. I pretended to not hear him groan lightly and instead gave him the most insincere apology of my life, thoughts now definitely elsewhere.

I was royally screwed. Or actually I wasn’t, and that was becoming a big problem.

I’d made it my personal mission to get a reaction out of him as much as I could. Mat was the same, I hadn’t seen him wearing a shirt in days. It was like this competition to see who could make the other one snap first. Currently I was making breakfast in nothing but a shirt and my panties. Granted, the shirt went to my mid-thighs because I’d stolen it from Mat a couple of months ago but still.

One of my upbeat playlists was playing over the speaker system and I was dancing around in front of the stove, careful to not let the our breakfast burn.

“What a sight to wake up to”, I heard Mat’s voice behind me and his hoarse morning voice did things to me I would never admit out loud. I gave him a cheeky grin over my shoulder and wiggled my butt for good measure as my favorite part of the song came on.

“Can you set the table? Breakfast is almost ready”, I asked and he nodded before moving to grab everything. We’d gotten our morning routine down to a t by now and I couldn’t help the warmth that spread in my chest at seeing him do something so domestic. Our friendship had certainly evolved since practically moving in here together. It would actually be weird to not have him around constantly once all of this was over.

The day continued like most of the days before, us lounging on the couch after working out together for a while. It was something we’d made a habit a while ago. His trainer knew that I was with him so he’d give Mat tandem exercises from time to time or he’d ask me to take videos so he could make sure that Mat’s form was okay. I certainly didn’t mind the view.

Mat was always hot of course but there was something to be said about the way he looked after a workout, all flushed and just downright delicious. It was definitely a great motivation to join him in the gym.

This time I had managed to snatch the corner seat and I was sprawled out on the couch, Mat’s head resting on my stomach. While I’d managed to put on some shorts he was of course still shirtless and I’d given in to temptation long ago, my fingers now slowly running across his back. He had one of his arms thrown across my stomach, hand resting on my hip and drawing slow circles on the little patch of skin that had been exposed when my shirt had ridden up. While cuddling wasn’t unusual between the two of us, this was certainly new territory, the show we’d been watching kind of forgotten by now.

“Use your nails”, Mat pleaded and his voice was so raw that I would’ve done anything he asked of me at this point. He let out a groan when I softly raked my nails across his back and I was glad that he couldn’t see my face right now. There was a spot on the left side of his back that would cause him to shudder slightly, goosebumps spreading quickly. I found myself watching him in awe, fascinated by the reaction I could get out of him by such a simple act.

I couldn’t stop myself from wondering what kind of damage I could do if I really worked for it.

It finally happened a couple of nights later after yet another day filled with sexual tension so thick that you could probably cut it with a knife.

Mat helped me clean up after dinner, music playing to help speed things up. I was in charge of taking care of the leftovers while he cleaned up everything else. Obviously I was done before him and since he refused to let me help him I hopped on top of the kitchen counter, making casual conversation while watching him put stuff in the dishwasher.

“This is my jam!”, he exclaimed, quickly wiping his hands clean before motioning for me to come dance with him. I shook my head while laughing, which only led to him grabbing me and lifting me off the counter so I would join him.

His moves were ridiculous, arms kind of just flapping around. I knew that he could dance if he wanted to, we’d been to our fair share of clubs together but right now he definitely wasn’t trying. He held his hand out for me and with a laugh I accepted, letting him spin me around as he wished. The third time while he was spinning me back towards him he pulled a little to hard though and whether it was on accident or not I ended up almost smacking into him, only stopping myself by placing my other hand on his chest.

Both of us were a little out of breath by now and any laughter died down as he wrapped both of his arms around me, pulling me even closer. I looked up at him, gripping onto his shoulder with the other hand. Mat looked down at me with an unreadable expression. We both stared at each other for a couple of seconds, trying to figure out what the other one was thinking at the moment. How had things gone from him twerking to Lizzo to this?

He gulped heavily before bringing one of his hands up to cup my face, ripping me out of my trance. His gaze was flickering between my lips and my eyes and he leaned in a little closer, yet still waiting for me to take the final step. Deciding to throw all caution to the wind I moved my hand to his neck, finally pulling him down to where I wanted him.

When our lips met it was as if everything was falling into place. The kiss started out slow, both of us still kind of figuring out what the hell was going on without scaring the other off. As soon as he realized that I wasn’t going to push him off of me he kissed me back with the determination that he showed in every other aspect of his life. His hands started wandering, first sliding down lower on my back before he moved them to my side, tightly gipping my hips.

I let out a light moan and he used the chance to deepen the kiss, slipping his tongue inside my mouth. He tasted like home and I willingly let him walk me backwards until I could feel the kitchen counter behind me, grateful for the leverage it would give me. He surprised me by lifting me back up on it and then pushing himself between my legs, gripping my thighs.

Eventually I did have to come up for air but Mat apparently didn’t concur to the basic laws of biology because he moved straight to my neck, sucking and biting gently until I was sure that goosebumps covered every square inch of my body. I knew I should stop and think about what was going on right now but I really didn’t want to, so instead I just dove right back into another toe curling kiss. Kissing him had quickly become one of my favorite things and I wanted, no I needed more.

“Mat, wait…”, I murmured against his mouth and he immediately took a step back, looking up at me with an expectant look. I could tell that he thought he’d done something wrong, when in reality it was the exact opposite.

“I want you but I don’t know if the kitchen counter is the right place for that.”

As soon as my words registered with him he groaned, burying his face in my neck.

“Then let’s get you somewhere comfortable… for now”, he teased and the wink he gave me told me that we’d definitely continue this in here another time. I let him lift me down, following behind him as he pulled me towards his bedroom with an urgency that I had only seen in games so far. He was pretty laid-back usually but I could tell that I’d riled him up over the past few days or weeks really.

It seemed like Mat couldn’t hold out until he got me onto his bed though, instead pushing me against the door and leaning down to kiss me again, pushing one of his thighs in between my legs. He fumbled around for a while before finally hitting the right light switch, making the room glow in soft yellow lighting.

His lips were addicting and even when he moved back I didn’t let him, chasing after him for another kiss. Using one of his hands to brace himself the other was slowly pushing up the fabric of my shirt. That wasn’t enough for me so I quickly moved to pull it off. I wasn’t wearing a bra and he cursed as soon as he saw my exposed chest, taking his time to look me up and down.

“So beautiful”, he murmured in awe before moving in again, one of his hands cupping my breast. I let out a moan when he started playing with my nipple which only seemed to spur him on further. I was so turned on already and he hadn’t even done much yet.

Determined to change up the power dynamics I pushed at his chest and he took a step back with a confused look, probably wondering if he’d done something wrong. Confusion turned into amazement as he watched me kiss down his chest before finally sinking down to my knees in front of him.

I took my time kissing his abs and mouthing along the ‘V’ that disappeared into his pants. I could see him straining against his shorts, impressed by what I could make out through the fabric. When I licked along his waistline he let out a beautiful groan and I decided I’d had teased him enough, finally hooking my fingers into his shorts and pulling them down along with his boxers. Him being shirtless already certainly made it easier to get him naked.

I watched his dick spring free, bouncing against his abs and looking absolutely delicious. He was impressively long but it was the girth that truly wowed me, finally making me understand all of the girls that came back time after time.

I gripped his thigh with one hand and reached for his dick with the other, making him curse. When I gave the head a little kitten lick he threaded his hands into my hair, practically pushing me down on him so I’d give him more. I didn’t object, wrapping my mouth around him and taking as much of him as I could, my hand taking care of the rest. The filthy sounds he was letting out above me only making me more enthusiastic and I was pretty sure that he’d have little crescent marks on his thighs for the next few days from how I was digging my nails into his thigh. He didn’t seem to mind though, only moaning my name.

“Fuck, you look so good like that”, Mat murmured and I looked up to him watching me intently. I kept my gaze locked on his as I moved back to let him go, my hand continuing to stroke him but my mouth dropping down to suck at his balls. The moan he let out would have made any porn star jealous.

It didn’t take long for him to pull me off of him in a way that told me that he didn’t actually want to, both of us panting as if we’d just ran a marathon.

“You need to stop or I’m going to cum”, he let out, his hoarse voice turning me on so much that I was pretty sure I’d be dripping down my legs if it weren’t for the fact that I was still wearing some clothes.

“Would that be such a bad thing?”, I teased, grinning up at him, not being able to resist licking up the entire length of his shaft once more. He practically pulled me up to my feet after that, moving in for another searing kiss.

“I’ve wanted you for so long and there’s no way I’m gonna finish before we even started.” He started to push me back towards his bed, changing his mind halfway there as he bent down to pick me up, wrapping my legs around his waist. For the first time I was able to feel him press against me, the thin fabric of my shorts not really doing much and holy shit did he feel good. He sat down on the edge of his bed, me now straddling his lap and I couldn’t help but roll my hips against him, desperate for any friction at this point.

The both of us let out a simultaneous moan at that and Mat buried his face in my neck, slowly sucking along my collarbone. He gripped my waist, his big hands nearly encircling it entirely.

“You’re wearing too many clothes still”, he said with his lips moving against my skin, making me shudder yet again. I’d long lost count a long time ago.

“Then do something about it”, I responded, not really willing to move at this point. He quickly stood up with me still perched on top of him before turning the both of us around, dropping me down onto the middle of the mattress. Him throwing me around like I weighed nothing really did something to me and I looked up at him through hooded eyes, waiting for him to make the next move.

He didn’t disappoint, leaning down to trail kisses from my neck, mouthing along my boobs before finally moving to pull my shorts and panties off. He took his time, making sure to appreciate every new inch of skin that he’d just exposed on the way back up and the closer he got to my core the more I was squirming underneath him. I had been waiting for this for so long that I wasn’t sure if I could make it through another minute without him inside me.

“Mat please, I really need you”, I whined and I could see him smirk up at me from where he’d situated himself between my legs.

“Don’t worry I’ll make you feel so good baby.” Hearing him call me ‘baby’ only made things worse but he finally put me out of my misery when he ran one of his large beautiful fingers through my folds.

“Holy shit you’re so wet for me already”, he cursed and I was about to respond when he literally took my breath away by licking up my slit. I couldn’t help but arch off the bed, already so keyed up and he quickly threw one arm across me stomach, forcing me to stay still. He started out slow and I knew that he was only trying to egg me on further but his resolve didn’t last long and he soon dove in with a determination that had sounds coming out of my mouth that I’d never made before in my entire life.

He moved my legs to rest on his shoulders so he could have better access and because I really needed something to hold on to for dear life, I gripped his hair. He’d said a couple of times that it had gotten too long during this quarantine but I certainly wasn’t complaining now, using it as leverage. I could see him grind against the comforter, desperate for any kind of friction himself and it was the hottest thing I’d ever seen in my life.

He moved back a little and I was about to complain when he slowly pushed a finger inside of me, any words dying in my throat at the feeling. He lowered his mouth again, sucking hard on my clit and I moaned so loud that I was glad that we were alone in the house.

“More, Mat please”, I whispered and I almost couldn’t believe that he already had me begging. He groaned and the vibrations in combination of him pushing a second finger inside of me were almost too much. I was close and I knew that he could tell from the way my thighs were starting to shake, curling his fingers inside me until he finally found the spot that made me cum so hard with a scream that I could see stars. He brought me through it, still pushing in and out slowly when I finally returned back to earth, grinning up at me proudly after wiping his mouth on the inside of my thigh.

“That was so fucking hot”, he said and I laughed, throwing my arm over my eyes in embarrassment. I’d had my fair share of hookups as well but nobody had managed to make me feel this good. I could feel him move up my body, reaching for my arm so he could look me in the eyes again before leaning down for a kiss. I could taste myself on his lips and while kissing him was still amazing, it wasn’t enough anymore. Mat seemed to catch my drift because he rolled off of me, only to reach for his nightstand, feeling around for a bit before triumphantly holding up a foil packet.

Taking advantage of him on his back I moved to straddle his thighs, taking his cock in my hands once again. He bucked his hips involuntarily and I could tell that he needed this as much as I did at this point. I took the foil package from him, ripping it open with my teeth before rolling the condom down his shaft. He gripped my hips, helping me scoot up until I was positioned above him, holding him so I could slip the tip inside.

Both of us let out simultaneous groans when I finally sunk down on him, the stretch painful in the most delicious way. He gave me a couple of seconds to adjust but I wasn’t really willing to wait any longer, rolling my hips against him.

“Your pussy feels so good around me”, he panted as he helped guide me along with his hands while looking me deep in the eyes. His pupils were so blown at this point, his cheeks were flushed and he’d never looked better. I was a moaning mess above him and I wanted to remember the way his cock was dragging against my walls for the rest of my life. One of his hands still rested on my hip while his other grabbed my boob, twisting the nipple and making me moan even louder.

At one point he moved to sit up, our chests now pressed together. The new angle had my clit rub against his pelvic bone and I knew that I’d come again like this with no extra help needed. Mat moved to kiss my neck, sucking and biting so harshly that I was sure that there’d be marks there the next day, not that anybody besides us would be able to see them.

His groans had become more erratic as well and I knew that he probably wasn’t far behind me, my name constantly on his lips. One last drag against him had me arch into him with yet another earth-shattering orgasm, Mat doing his best to fuck me through it before turning us around so he was on top of me, using his hands to hold himself above me so he wouldn’t crush me.

He grabbed one of my legs and pushed it up to rest on his hip, thrusting into me with a force that had the headboard slam into the wall repeatedly. He felt so good that with every thrust I let out a little moan, still sensitive from my orgasm, which only seemed to spur Mat on even more. I was digging my nails into his back to the point where I was sure that there would be red streaks after but he didn’t seem to care at all, too lost in the moment. It didn’t take long before he threw his head back and I could feel him pulse inside me as he came, the most beautiful groan coming from his lips as he finally stilled inside me.

He crashed down on top of me, burying his face in my neck, both of us out of breath by now and covered in sweat. He was silent for a while until he caught me off guard when he started laughing.

“What’s wrong?”

“I’m just thinking.. we could’ve been doing that for weeks, I certainly wanted to.”

“I did too but I guess we’re both stupid.”

Now we were both laughing and Mat moved off of me so he could pull out, gripping the condom so it wouldn’t slip off. He threw it in the trash can in the corner before coming back, his hand outstretched for me to take.

“I guess we have some catching up to do then, starting right now with me and you in the shower”, he said with a wink and I couldn’t think of a time where I’d gotten out of bed faster.

#Mat Barzal #smut #nhl smut #hockey smut #Mat Barzal smut #mat barzal x reader #new york islanders #hockey writing #ice hockey #nhl #nhl imagine

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sevlgi · 4 years

Text

not-so-sweet secret

requested: yes

group: blackpink

pairing: jennie x fem!reader

genre: angst, fluff

contents: school!au, rich girl!jennie, secret relationship

warnings: none

synopsis: What you had with Jennie Kim used to be your sweet little secret. But recently, as Jennie starts publicly dating someone else, it doesn’t seem so sweet anymore.

a/n: yes you can! I love this prompt, thanks so much for requesting! also thank you all so much for 700 followers 😭 you guys have questionable taste but I love you all

word count: 2.6k

You always knew that what you had with Jennie Kim would have to stay a secret.

To be honest, you had no idea how she had even developed feelings for you. While she as the queen of the school, you were a nobody, just another wallflower who admired her. Somehow, she liked you enough to ask you out, and everything began from there.

At first, the idea of a clandestine relationship exhilarated you. The thought of sneaked kisses behind closed doors, of weekend dates in places no one would recognize you, managed to make your heart beat faster.

And that’s exactly how it was at first. You stayed late after school so that Jennie could drive you home in a car that smelled like her perfume, and you sneaked out at night for the first time to see the stars with her. She stared at you in your shared classes, and you slipped notes into each others’ lockers, each one of hers signed with a kiss printed in lipstick.

It was all you could have ever asked for, even if both of you pretended the other didn’t exist in the presence of other people. Sure, it wasn’t ideal that you couldn’t sit together at lunch and share food like other couples, or that Jennie could barely give you a passing glance in the hallways, but it was enough to know how she genuinely laughed, how she liked to hug the people she really loved.

You wanted to be with her publicly, but you also wanted to give Jennie time. You didn’t want to rush her into doing anything she wasn’t ready to do, even if it meant you had to suffer in silence because of it.

In private, she was the sweetest girlfriend you could have ever asked for. She visited your house almost every afternoon and brought you fresh-baked sweets, and she cooked dinner for both of you whenever your parents weren’t home. Jennie stayed over so often that you kept a special blanket and pillow for her right next to yours.

But in public, she was always a whole other person. Whenever you went on dates outside, even if the two of you were in a different town, Jennie hesitated to even stand to closely to you, to smile that cute gummy smile specially reserved for you.

Especially at school, Jennie hung out with her popular friends, those crazily beautiful and rich kids who never looked your way. When she was with them, she was no better, fake-laughing at insensitive jokes and burning money on designer clothes.

That was the price. To be the butt of those insensitive jokes, to be on the receiving end of falsely sweet smiles and to be unable to love Jennie as much as you wanted. But you were sure it would all be worth it in the long term, as long as you kept your sweet little secret tucked close to your heart.

“Hey, jagi,” you smiled, getting into the car and tossing your bag at your feet. “It’s so nice to see you.”

Jennie gave you her customary gummy smile, eyes turning into pretty crescent moons. “Hi, baby. You look really pretty today, you know? I wanted to tell you in math, but Eunchae kept talking about her new Mercedes.”

You blushed lightly, kissing her on the cheek as she started the car. “Really, another one? Didn’t she crash the last one while drunk?”

“High,” your girlfriend corrected. “Remember, there was that huge party at Jackson’s place? He got drugs somehow, and Eunhae got so high that she backed her car into a wall.”

Rolling your eyes lightly at the mention of the party, you reminded Jennie, “I wasn’t there, remember? Nobody in their right mind would invite me to a party. Pretty sure they don’t even know my name.”

“Well, they should. You’re the greatest,” Jennie cooed, giving you a big smile. “Although, you don’t like those parties anyway, right?”

“Nah,” you shrugged, looking out the window at all the passing houses. Unsurprisingly, Jennie lived in a different neighborhood than you, hers with a gate for every house and at least 4 expensive cars parked in every driveway. Despite that, she drove you to and from school every day. “Although, your daily recap of who started dating who is pretty funny.”

Jennie laughed lightly, and you could hear your heart beating faster just at the sound of her. You had been dating for so long, but just the tiniest action of hers still managed to make you flustered like crazy. “I know you don’t enjoy it that much, you just like to let me talk.”

“Maybe,” you joked, getting out of the car when it parked at the curb of your house. “Do you wanna come in? I bought the ice cream you like so much, milk flavor.”

She pouted at that, not getting out of the car, which was enough of an answer. “No, sorry, Junsoo made me promise to tutor him in math today. See you tomorrow?”

“See you tomorrow,” you answered, waving as she pulled the car away. You did your best to ignore the sinking feeling in your stomach, like a huge stone had been dropped there. It was hard not to get jealous when Jennie routinely hung out with people way better than you, but you always reminded yourself that your girlfriend loved you and would never cheat on you.

Right?

“Good morning,” Wheein greeted you, sliding into the seat right next to you. You smiled in greeting, still copying the notes down from the board. The girl had been your assigned Chemistry partner for a few months now, and you could maybe call her a friend.

“Hi, Wheein.”

“You won’t believe what happened today,” the girl started saying. She was a bit gossipy at times, but she was still considerably kind to you, so you always let it slide. “Junsoo started dating Jennie!”

Your head snapped up, your hand slipping and drawing a huge mark over your notes. Wheein winced at the huge black arc on your paper, passing you an eraser. “What? Jennie? Like Jennie Kim?”

“Well, what other Jennies are in this school?” Wheein giggled, cocking her head at you. “Why?”

Jennie. Your girlfriend, Jennie, was dating Im Junsoo, quite possibly the biggest asshole in the entire school. You knew she would do a lot to hide your relationship, but you didn’t think she would go that far. “No reason,” you mumbled, starting to scrub at your paper.

That sweet secret that you kept close to your heart started to feel not so sweet anymore.

You didn’t want to believe what Wheein said, and that was the only reason you took the long way to lunch and headed by the cluster of benches where Junsoo held court during lunch. At first, you couldn’t see him or Jennie, a group of other popular kids creating a barrier between you and them.

But you heard her voice, that gorgeous voice that only called you ‘jagi’, flirting shamelessly with Junsoo. You wanted to leave, to pretend like you didn’t hear anything, but the crowd shifted just enough for you to see the happy couple, Jennie practically sitting on Junsoo’s stupid lap.

She was definitely flirting with him, practically giving him bedroom eyes in the middle of the cafeteria. Her friends cooed over them, only fueling the stupid smug expression on Junsoo’s stupid face.

Jennie caught a glance of you when she looked up, and you knew that all she could see was betrayal. And that was exactly what you felt as you turned on your heel and walked away.

You didn’t wait in the parking lot for Jennie that day. Instead, you hitched your bag up on your shoulder and walked home yourself, ignoring your phone when it started buzzing in your pocket halfway.

You didn’t pick up when she called you, and you didn’t read any of the texts she sent. Instead, you spent your time in the garage fixing up your old bike so you could start getting to school easier.

Maybe it was just a rumor, but you had a bad feeling, one that told you something had gone incredibly wrong. You ate dinner with your parents for once instead of going up to your room and video-calling Jennie.

It all felt wrong, but you weren’t ready to talk to her yet. Once you picked up on one of her calls, you knew the truth was going to come out, and you weren’t ready to hear it just yet.

You managed to avoid Jennie for a full 3 days. To be honest, it wasn’t that hard; you didn’t have many classes together, and there was no way she could get alone enough to approach you.

Saturday was the day you were dreading, because you knew Jennie would show up. That was the day she usually came over, because neither of your parents would be home and neither of hers would be watching her. She didn’t need to be let in, since you had given her a spare key, and she had her own car.

It was only a matter of time before she confronted you, and you were not looking forward to it.

Unsurprisingly, you heard the front door unlocking at exactly 9:33 in the morning on Saturday. Luckily, you were already awake, cooking breakfast in the kitchen a few steps away. “Let yourself in, why don’t you,” you called out sarcastically.

“Y/N?” Jennie answered, setting her keys down on the counter and closing the door behind her. “Have you been ignoring me?”

Blunt as always. You turned around with an eyebrow raised, taking in the sight of her. She looked unfairly good, glowing as always, as if she wasn’t worried at all about the fact that you hadn’t talked to her in days.

Under usual circumstances, you would have immediately rushed to her, kissing her and running your hands through her immaculately curled hair, but instead, you stood there, holding the plate of food. “I don’t know, why don’t you ask your boyfriend?”

It came out more spiteful than you had intended, but it did the trick; your girlfriend flinched, regret settling into the brown eyes you loved so much. “Y/N...”

“Jennie,” you deadpanned, staring right at her. “Go ahead, explain if you can.”

“It’s not real,” she implored, stepping closer to you. “I don’t like Junsoo, not at all! He’s just a friend, please, Y/N.”

“Then why did Wheein tell me the big, amazing news that he’s dating you this morning?” you demanded, not caring about the fact that you sounded like a crazy, jealous girlfriend.

At the sound of your deskmate’s name, Jennie’s expression changed. Instead of the desperate scrunch of her eyebrows, a jealous twist of her lip brought spite to her eyes. “Wheein? I don’t like that you talk to her so often.”

“Don’t turn this around on me!” you exclaimed, your voice echoing off the walls of your kitchen. “Are you serious? Wheein’s my friend, not anything like your official boyfriend Junsoo. We’re talking about you right now!”

Jennie’s expression changed again, into a slightly pained one as her hands scrunched into the fabric of your shirt. “Y/N, you know I’m not ready to come out yet. I don’t know how people will react, much less my parents.”

“Yeah, I know, and I understand that! But dating someone else right in front of my face? What the hell, Jen?” you challenged her, anger furrowing your brow.

She chewed on her lower lip and looked down at the floor. “I… I think it’s best if I leave right now. You’re obviously angry, and I get it. I don’t want to fight.”

“Okay, then leave,” you scowled, turning back to your food. You could feel a sour pang in your chest as you heard the door close softly behind your girlfriend, but you ignored it. You had a right to be angry when your girlfriend started publicly dating someone else, but was it worth it to hurt each other like that?

A week or so passed without you or Jennie speaking a single word to one another. That was one of the things that made the two of you not such a great match; both of you were incredibly stubborn, and neither of you would give up without a fight.

It hurt, of course, but you wanted her to approach you first. After all, it wasn’t your fault that she started dating someone else and ruined your relationship.

Stumbling in on Jennie kissing Junsoo in an empty classroom was the last straw.

“Excuse me, who are you?” the boy demanded, scrambling to stand in the empty classroom. Behind him, Jennie stared at you in horror, lipstick slightly smeared and her blouse just a little bit wrinkled.

You couldn’t help the horror on your face, but you still couldn’t bring yourself to expose Jennie. It was stupid, maybe, wanting to protect her after all the heartbreak she brought to you, but instead of saying anything, you mumbled a hurried “Sorry” and darted right out of the door.

You didn’t expect her to run after you, and you definitely weren’t expecting the hurried clack of heels behind you and the feeling of her warm hand clasped on your wrist. “Y/N, please wait.”

“What…?” you stared at your wrist and then at Jennie’s pleading eyes, begging you to stay. “Um, Jennie?”

“I’m sorry,” she blurted out. “I’m really, really sorry. I never should have acted like I was ashamed of you, I never was! You’re the best thing to ever happen to me.”

Dumbly, you opened and closed your mouth like a goldfish. Whispers sounded around the two of you, dozens of eyes glued to the two of you as you stood in the middle of the hallway. All you manage to say is “I think we should talk about that” as you pulled Jennie out of the school.

Neither of you talked until you were far enough out of the campus that nobody you recognized was there. “What’s going on? Aren’t you happy with your popular, rich boyfriend?”

Jennie winced, shaking her head pleadingly. “Please, Y/N. I know I don’t deserve it, but I really love you. I want another chance, and I promise I’ll never keep you a secret again. I’ll come out to my parents, and I’ll announce our relationship--”

“I never wanted to force you to come out,” you sighed, stepping closer. You knew that what she did wasn’t right, but you didn’t exactly handle it well either. “I just didn’t want you to date someone just to cover us up. I felt like you were ashamed of me.”

“I promise I’m not. Please, I’ll treat you right this time,” Jennie promised, still holding on to your wrist.

Biting your lip, you looked at the ground. Obviously, you loved Jennie; she was the best person in the world to you, despite what she did, and you didn’t want to let her go. “One more chance,” you suggested, looking back up to her again. “We’re starting over, we’re not continuing our old relationship.”

Jennie nodded fervently, giving you the familiar gummy smile you were so familiar with. “Okay. I’ll take you on a date tomorrow, and I’ll treat you so well. I promise.”

“I’ll be waiting,” you laughed, wrapping your arms around her in a hug and inhaling the familiar sweet scent of her perfume once again.

You felt sweet. Not sweet in the way that your old relationship was, not the kind of sweet that still had a bitter aftertaste. No, you were on cloud nine, and you could stay there forever if you just had Jennie.

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