Tumgik
#like I can just rotate around so I can meet my needs without bothering people
coldvampire · 4 months
Text
.
2 notes · View notes
emsgwenstan · 6 months
Text
Personal or professional?
Chap 1 | chap 2 | chap 3
Larissa Weems x fem(carpenter/joiner) named reader.
Tumblr media
Words: 2k
Warnings: bodily issues, swearing.
Note: imma b honest I’m filling In for the parts I want to write. I’m not there yet. Just know there will be a few things coming within the next few chapters! Xx
———
Just as I was thinking about how ridiculously bold it was for me to put my number on that cup, I felt my phone vibrate in my back pocket once I returned home.
‘Meet me at the weathervane in your lunch break tomorrow?~Larissa’
My eyes went wide as I re-read the message over and over until I realise that she can see if I’ve viewed it, I quickly replied.
‘Sure, 12:30? Are you sure you have time?’
Immediately it was seen and I waited in anticipation once the three little dots popped up.
‘That’s fine, even if I don’t I will always make time darling.”
I didn’t know exactly what to reply, so I just turned off my phone and threw it on my bed, I could feel my face flushing at the thought of her. I stripped off and got ready for a shower, the chill of the room raising goosebumps along my skin, the tile floor of the bathroom freezing the soles of my feet, stepping in, I let out a hum at the hot water encapsulating my body finally letting myself relax against the wall, ridding myself of the day, not that it was so bad.
Once out, dried off and dressed, I jump into bed not bothering with dinner, being far to exhausted to cook or order anything, I snuggle into my thick duvet and flick on the tv to half watch and listen to another true crime story. It isn’t always ideal to watch this stuff when I live alone, especially as a woman, but there’s something oddly calming about it, even if I get slightly paranoid. After a while I fell asleep at around 8:00pm, but woke at around 12 to turn the tv off.
———
The next morning I woke up earlier than usual to perfect my simple make up, applying a layer of foundation and mascara, the smallest bit of matte pink lipstick and to be sure to have every hair on my head in place held in a slicked back ponytail. ‘I just hope this will last for at least 8 hours, the next 4 don’t matter.’ I thought.
Throwing on my black jeans and fluoro pink work shirt, as well as a baggy pink and black work wear jacket, I glance at myself in the floor length mirror, every time I do I see nothing I like, nothing pretty, nothing special, I feel like I must be such a curiosity to other people, my job, my height, my weight, my strange mix of masculinity and femininity, I know I’m not skinny or thin but I’m not that big either, anymore at least. The stretch marks on my stomach, thighs and breasts are the things I try so hard to cover up. I can’t help but wonder why anyone would want to be with or associate around someone like me, even if I personally don’t discriminate against what people look like. That also brings me to ponder why Larissa asked to have lunch with me today.
I think my collar bone length, warm blond hair is probably the only thing I change often or really take care of, I try to do my nails and keep them clean and presentable, always painted in a nude pink, which is ironic considering i don’t actually like the colour. I change the studs in all of my piercings, rotating the gold from small hoops to diamonds. My hands are scared and calloused from 22 years of working with rough materials as well as my legs and forearms, I guess I’ve no need to be jealous or overthink about others body’s or physique’s I’m a grown woman after all, but the insecurity is always at the forefront of my mind.
After traipsing out of the house, I finally made it into work at 5am, turning on all the lights and compressors and the radio I listen to until 9, it goes off once my boss turns up. “No music in the factory Violet.” He’d say, which is bullshit, it’s so fucking boring without it. Walking into the shop’s kitchenette, I flick on the kettle to make my morning tea in a travel cup and tap my fingers on the bench in waiting. It’s already freezing today, the cold seeping through my layers of clothing and apparently the concrete walls, yesterday was warm enough to wear shorts and go without a jumper.
Consulting with my boss about the order needing to be placed for the cupboards going to nevermore was nauseating, It took a lot longer than usual because of all the questions he asked about yesterday afternoon. “So how was going to the school for strange kids yesterday?” He asked sarcastically, not looking up from his computer. “Their not strange, their just different to you. And it was fine, obviously got all the information we need.” I said annoyed. “Right.” After a long pause he spoke again. “Miss Weems seemed to enjoy your presence, she didn’t shut up about the stuff you showed her.” I was perplexed and rolled my eyes. “Well at least someone appreciates it.” I said under my breath looking down at my thighs picking bits of lint and sawdust off the material. He was quiet after that.
12:15 rolled around, I grabbed the keys to my personal car and popped back into his office to tell him I’m going on break, it was so nice on the short walk in the sun. I jumped in my black Mercedes sports car and made my way down the street, turning a few corners I parked outside the wethervane and locked the car before entering the cafe. Larissa wasn’t there yet, so I took a seat in a booth next to the large window with my back turned to the door.
Staring out the glass and watching the towns people walk about, some in tandem with each other holding hands, some parents with young children or strollers, a few elderly people walking in groups giving the impression of being friends for years going for a walk with their wife’s arms wrapped around there husbands. One in particular caught my attention, a young man who looks to be in his early 20s exiting the florist bearing a bunch of white roses, his demeanour riddled with nerves, he sat at a park bench close to the other side of the road, pulling out a little black box, he observed it for a moment before snapping it shut, than stood smoothing down his hair and blazer before walking away. A small smile crept on my face hoping all goes well for his next obvious destination, but it quickly faded in a realisation, which I wish to forget.
A hand on my shoulder ripped me out of my mind, turning my head around I see her. Larissa. A huge grin took over my face clearly out doing her small smile. “Afternoon violet.” She greeted. “Hi.” I responded sounding so high pitched I internally cringe at myself. Larissa placed her purse on the surprisingly unsticky table and takes a seat in front of me. “How are you darling.” She asked removing a black leather glove. “I’m alright, not particularly busy today which is pretty good but that just means the day will drag a lot longer, better now I’m here with you though.” I said, staring at her beautifully red painted nails. “Oh that’s horrible, you must get lonely in there by yourself no?” She stated. “It’s nice, but sometimes I wish I had someone to talk to. Don’t you get lonely? Being in your office?” I asked wondering why she’d worry about me when I’m sure she’s in the same position. “Not at all, I have teachers, students, parents, groundskeepers and just about every other kind of person in and out all day, sometimes it gets so frustrating I put a ‘do not disturb’ sign on my door just for at least five minutes of peace.” She exhaled slightly rolling her eyes at the thought, I nodded in understanding, chuckling softly at her annoyance.
Idle conversations flowed between the two of us before we were politely interrupted by a waiter handing over two menus. “What are you having.” I asked her. “A chicken Cesar salad. You?- Oh and I’m paying by the way… you bought me things yesterday.” She stated. “There’s no need really.” I answered. “I insist what would you like.” She pushed. “Probably just a grilled cheese.” I said. “No. Don’t think I don’t know that’s the cheapest thing here, get what you want sweetheart.” My pulse skipped then ran faster at her new term of endearment, I felt like I was melting from the inside out. “Fine I’ll just have the same as you please.” I settled, displaying a shy smile. I didn’t care about the food really, I don’t plan on letting her see me as a naive and difficult thing who can’t pay for myself or play her as a fool, I guess that’s just what happens when you’re completely independent for a long period of time. “Are you sure? you can have anything.” She asked again. “Positive, thank you.” Larissa waved over the previous waiter and ordered for the both of us, we ate once our meals arrived and sat in comfortable silence.
Larissa did in fact pay, she left no room for argument and we both walked out together into the fresh, crisp air and warm sun. “Do you need to go back just yet?” She asked. “No I think having a break over half an hour would be fine considering how much overtime I do that I don’t get payed for.” I chuckled trying to come off lighthearted, but it sounded more bitter than I intended. “What do you mean? What are your allocated hours?” Larissa stoped the slow pace causing me to walk a little in front and turn around to face her concerns. “Allocated… 7:30 to 5, but I usually get to work around 5 and finish at 7.” I said furrowing my brows. “Why?” I ask. Larissa was silent for a moment. “So your telling me you work 12 to 13 hours every day? When your only supposed to be doing 9 and a half?” She asked incredulously. “Yes.” I said almost immediately realising that wouldn’t seem right or normal to anyone else who doesn’t know what it’s like to do my job. I laughed at her, not in a rude way but at her worry. “How do you do that!? You work almost 70 hours a week!” Her eyes growing widder with the facts she’s coming to know. “I’m fine. I manage.” I simply said turning to walk a bit more for her to follow, at this point there is no destination.
“You look gorgeous today, channel right?” I asked, pulling my hand out of my pocket to point at her outfit, a ploy for a change of subject. “Yes, thank you. How did you know that?” She asked. “Just like I know your heels are louboutins, your watch is Valentino, your bracelet it Cartier and your broach is probably the hardest to guess I’m not quite sure about that one, but I know your necklace is personally made. Oh and your pearl earrings are vintage Tiffany & co.” I stated proudly hoping I wasn’t wrong. “You continue to surprise me Violet. First your this strong independent woman who can build an entire house and the interior with you bare hands and now your a fashion expert, what else don’t I know?” She said with an amuse smile. “There is a lot you don’t know about me Larissa, but what ls the fun in letting you in on all my secrets just yet? Who knows, I could be very boring.” I giggled. She shook her head gently and placed her gloved hand on my arm. “You are the most interesting person I’ve been around for quite some time darling, I don’t believe you could ever be a bore.” At that i blushed furiously letting out a foggy exhale.
Larissa was the epitome of ethereal, the way her eyes look so piercing in the sunlight almost as if they were so blue they could be mistaken for white, her porcelain skin illuminated as well as her platinum hair. Right now her nose and cheeks are flushed red and her lips displaying the same shade she had painted on herself, I hoped anyway, their a little swollen due to the cold. “Hey, can I ask you a random question?” I asked timidly hoping it’s not to weird. “Of course you can.” She said. “Do you…ahhh, do you have…someone, like-.” I struggled to spit it out. “A girlfriend, boyfriend, husband, wife, partner?… no sweetheart.” She continued on, laughing at my shy state. “Right… that what I was trying to say, and how is that, wouldn’t you have plenty of people lined up for you? surely.” I exaggerated. “So your a flatterer to I see.” She gasped feigning herself from being to serious.
About two seconds later Larissa looked away and her attention was taken by the front of the Jericho book shop and Library, she moved so quickly to snatch my wrist and drag me in the direction of the entrance. “Woah, you could have just asked me to come with you.” I just about snorted. “I’m sorry come on I haven’t been in her for ages, please!” The sparkle in her eyes showing unwavering hope. “Of course I’ll come I love books to ya know.” I grinned. “Well that’s another thing I just learned about you.” She said holding the door open for me.
It was so warm and cozy inside, the smell of a vanilla candle that was placed next to the register and the scent of paper was almost nostalgic, I hadn’t been in here for a while either. Larissa ended up in-front of me and I don’t think she realised she held out her hand behind her for me to take. After mild contemplation I took it, Larissa immediately tightened her grip, pulling me along with her to a section she clearly has been down before. She let go of my hand a crouched to the wooden floor removing her gloves again so she could feel the spines of the books.
Larissa was in her element, completely enraptured in her own world. I let her be and scanned the shelves above her, taking an interest to one that was a royal blue colour with gold embossed lettering, I placed my palm on her shoulder to stabilise myself and stood on my tip toes to reach it, admiring for a moment before I could read the blurb, Larissa gasped in excitement. “Yes, I found it!” She exclaimed. “What is it?” I asked. “I hid this book almost a year ago because I didn’t want to buy it at the time.” She said looking up at me. ‘she’s so bloody adorable.’
I helped her off the floor and we moved back to the register. “So what do you have?” She asked. “Um I think it’s a book of poetry, I flicked through it and read one, I like it.” I said. “You should read me one.” She smiled. Before I could respond a little lady with grey hair and a long green cardigan came walking behind the counter from what I assumed was the ‘back’. “Oh Larissa! How are you dear!?” She said surprised. “Francis! I’m well how are you?” She responded, it would be silly to think they weren’t aquatinted. “I’m doing ok, finally got that hip replacement back in may, working like I’m a teenager again.” She said. I quietly chuckled. “That’s wonderful.” Larissa replied placing her book on the counter. “And who’s this lovely lady with you?” She asked. “Oh forgive me, violet this is Francis, fran, this is violet, she’s making the new classroom cupboards for nevermore.” Larissa was almost proud to be able to introduce you to someone. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.” I said holding out my hand for her to shake, instead she took ahold of my palm with one hand and placed her other on top. “Like wise dear. Your a hard worker I see.” She stated observing my hand. “Thank you?” I said unsure of how to respond.
Larissa stood to the side waiting for me to pay for my own book. “Oh this one’s good, perhaps you can read some to your girlfriend over there.” Francis said talking about the book and Larissa. My eyes were just about bulging out of my head at her words, I was rendered speechless. “Hush now Fran! I see your still cheeky as ever.” Larissa hissed. The elderly lady chortled at her with a shit eating grin. “Don’t you forget it. When you get old you tend not to hold your tongue.” She initially spoke to larissa than back to me. All I could do was stand there awkwardly, but praise her for not giving a fuck, I like her.
We exited the shop bidding the woman farewell and set off to back to our cars. “Sorry about that, I’ve known Francis since I was 14, she can be very brazen sometimes.” She said. “Don’t worry about it shes cute and hilarious… so you went to nevermore when you were at school?” I asked. “Yes, every weekend I’d go to the library part of the shop and sit for hours, than we’d exchange opinions on the books I’d read over a cup of tea.” She expressed clutching the book tighter to her chest. “That’s so sweet, I wish my childhood was that simple, I would have loved to have the freedom to Sit and read until I was to exhausted.” I said. “Well it wasn’t all that easy but I didn’t have to many friends to mingle with I suppose.” I felt a tinge of sadness at her confession, understanding what she means. “Nor did I, but I guess that’s why it’s so important to you now as headmistress right? To ensure all the kids are happy and safe?” I wondered. “Exactly.” She said pulling out her car keys while I simultaneously did the same. We both hit the unlock button to find we were parked right next to each other.
To our surprise we both had the same car, except hers was red. “Nice car.” I said. “Like wise.” She laughed. “Well I suppose this is goodbye.” Larissa said looking at me slightly saddened at the fact. “I suppose it is.” I retorted. Larissa stood peering into my eyes, her expression turned confused. “What?” I asked. “Your eyes…they’ve changed colour, I thought that yesterday, but now I’m sure.” She said hoping she didn’t sound to insane. “Yeah they do that, I don’t really know why, they go from blue, green, grey to blue grey to green blue, it’s weird but I find that when I’m tired my eyes are really blue and when I’m happy or focused they’re really green, almost like a mood ring.” I laughed. Larissa own eyes flickered between my own causing me to become short of breath. “It’s very interesting, very unique.” She said. “What are they now?” I whispered, Larissa seemed to be closer than I thought. “Green on the outside with a little bit of blue in the centre.” She matched my tone of voice. Closing my eyes I took a deep breath and tilted my head down before exhaling and returning the gaze.
“So when will I see you again? Apart from the obvious work reasons.” I asked. “Would Friday night be ok, I could take you out for dinner?… if your not interested then that’s ok we could-.” Yes yes yes yes yes. “No! I’d love to just text me with plans yeah?” I wished I didn’t seem to overzealous. “Really? Alright than I will see you Friday.” She said. “Of course I’ll see you than.” And only than I did something I wish I could take back, something so stupid, so unprofessional. I leaned in a little closer and kissed her cheek, not like it was hard or strained, not even a millisecond went by for me to not look at her after, I all but ran to my car and shoved the keys into the ignition and turned it on ripping the gear stick into reverse to get the hell out of there. I did spare her a glance and and idiotic wave before practically speeding away.
Larissa stood there on the footpath shocked, blushing like one of her students, she returned the wave and set to get in her own vehicle. Sitting in the drivers seat hands clamped to the steering wheel, she let out a chesty giggle and a smile reaching her eyes. It was Larissa’s turn to feel like a giddy little girl. On her way back go nevermore I was the only thing on Larissa’s mind, by the time she arrived through the gates it was just after 2 pm, she would spend the rest of the day in a haze hardly concentrating.
Later that night she dragged a chair in front of her fireplace with a blanket adorned over her lap with her new book in hand and a glass of wine placed on the floor next to her, a relaxing evening to go along with an eventful afternoon. I was much the same, unlike the previous night I had enough energy to make something for dinner while standing in the kitchen with my own book, reading passages from it whilst stirring the food on the stove.
the eyes
are portals to
different worlds
this is why
we shut them in
beautiful moments.
Let’s just say both of our dreams that night were of each other and the next morning consisted of thoughts for Fridays dinner.
———
Just wait for the dinner;)
@lex13cm @im-a-carnivorous-plant @barbarasstar @giogwensversion @sabraaabra
103 notes · View notes
Of Constellations & Creeds
Chapter 21: Fire of Devotion 
Summary/Author’s Note: Din presents you with a gift that he has had for while. You start exploring what it means to work as a team and meet a fiery mechanic that takes a shine to you. 
There is a note at the end for what something looks like if you guys are having a hard time picturing it. I tried to do my best. Thank you for reading! 
Tumblr media
Pairing: Din Djarin x F!reader (Alpha/Omega/soulmates AU) Word Count:  5k Warnings/Promises: Mature/18+ - language, sexual themes, weapons/shooting
[Previous Chapter] [Series Masterlist] [My Complete Masterlist]
--
This is what dreaming felt like. 
You were the perfect temperature of warm bodies and crisp blankets. Sprawled among the sheets, you lucidly stretched your body as your mind slowly woke up the rest of your limbs. You started by wiggling your toes while you listened to the birds chitter in the trees outside the barn, your ankles, your back, and lastly your arms. You quietly popped your fingers as you brought them up to rub gently at the back of your sore neck with a groan. 
"Shit."
You winced as you stretched your arms and suddenly remembered why your shoulder was so tender. Rotating the cuff much slower, you worked the stiffness out of the muscle until you could move it more freely. That was at least a little better. 
Before falling into bed last night, Din had ravished you against the wall, then again on the ground, neither one of you able to stop long enough to tear yourselves apart. The idea of moving into the comfort of your bed never came up, due to not wanting to wake the kid and once again...that required you to stop touching each other. Whatever discomfort you felt had absolutely been worth it. 
The morning sun was warm on your face and you opened your eyes to find the Mandalorian facing you...still helmetless. You had worried the moment you fell asleep everything would have ceased to have happened. You really wouldn't have seen his face. You really wouldn't have received his mark. But he had sleepily assured you that closing your eyes erased nothing and he promised to be here when you woke up. Everything you had done last night was no dream. It had been very, very real. 
“Din?” you whispered almost inaudible, as if to test him. 
His eyes were closed and his mouth open ever so slightly as he continued to sleep with his arm bent behind his head against his pillow. He looked younger in the sunlight. The gentle rays tinting his already light brown skin to a warm sienna, it did the same to his hair, finding the small strands of molten gold throughout the tousled dark curls. He was so handsome and you had yet to tell him, but something told you he wouldn't believe you even if you did. 
Did Mandalorians have a concept of beauty? When you spent your entire adolescence with a helmet on, you couldn’t imagine it mattered much what the person underneath looked like. It leveled the playing field so to speak. While society squabbled over such trivial attributes, you imagined Mandalore was more concerned with your ability to win a fight, to negotiate, to contribute to your clan.
It used to be easy to look at him with disdain. Then that disdain turned to something little more than convenient indifference. It was easy to blame him for the destruction of your home world, for the loss of your old life. Anger was always easier. And yet as you looked at him now, and fought the desperate urge to trace the bridge of his nose with the tip of your finger, you knew you felt something else towards him. Something that you hadn't felt in a very long time. Something that felt a lot like affection...a lot like love.
Yes, to you Din was beautiful. But then again when you loved someone, weren’t they always? There was that word again. It made you smile quietly to yourself as you mulled it over in your mind. 
Leaning forward, you pressed your lips to his, a chaste kiss that caused a soft groan to come from somewhere deep in his chest as his arm slid around your middle. 
"Good morning," you whispered against his mouth and he grunted, not bothering to open his eyes. 
"Ten more minutes."
You smiled, kissing him again as he pulled you closer. You reached down and grabbed the blanket before pulling it up over the both of you more securely. For a man that never took a break, he loved sleep more than anyone you had ever met. 
"Alright, ten more minutes," you said quietly as you moved to kiss his cheek before tucking your head under his chin against his chest and closing your eyes. 
--
Saying goodbye to Omera and Sorgan was more painful than you imagined it would be. She was the first person who understood your struggle. If it weren't for her who knew how long it would take you and the Mandalorian to find one another. But no matter how you felt, you couldn't stay here and she couldn't come with you. It seemed everywhere you went there was something new to lose, a new heartache to experience, and as you hugged her tightly and held back your tears she was added to the long list of loss in your life.
"You'll always have a place here," she said quietly as you squeezed her tighter. It's as if she knew you were trying not to fall apart. She felt the soft cloth that you had used to bandage your shoulder and she leaned back to see your face and give you a knowing grin. “But you are now right where you’re supposed to be.”
"Thank you," you said, wiping your eyes as she fixed the shawl around your shoulders and gave your arms a pat. 
“Keep up with your meditations. They’ll help.”
“I know.”
"Take care of them," she nodded to the man behind you who was holding the child and waiting patiently for you by the cart. "But don't forget to take care of yourself."
"I will."
"Promise?"
"Promise."
The trip back through the woods to the Razor Crest was a somber one and you watched as the child stood at the back of the cart and waved its tiny three-fingered hand at the group of children who were waving in return. You leaned forward and rubbed the space between its massive ears gently. However you were feeling was probably nothing compared to the little guy. He didn't know what was going on, or that there were people hunting him, or why you couldn't stay in such a beautiful place where he had made so many friends. It was tough being a kid in such a big world. Maker, it was tough being an adult in such a big world. 
You looked back as you felt Din put his hand on the small of your back and lean his helmet against your temple for the briefest of moments. You lowered your walls ever so slightly and accepted the comfort that he sent your way. Maybe Omera had been right, maybe he had wanted to stay too. 
--
Being back on the Razor Crest came pretty naturally to the three of you and to say you were surprised was an understatement. Fresh supplies from Sorgan filled the storage bunker and with more variety to eat than prepackaged rations, your spirits were much higher than they had been previously. 
“Come on, kid,” you said, gently as you picked up the child and straightened his burlap cloak. “Nap time.” 
“Ba-to!” he squeaked, raising his arms up and giving you a two-toothed smile that warmed your heart. 
“Just for a little bit,” you assured him. “Then you can come up front and help pilot. Sound good?” 
“Ah-yo!”
“No, no, I promise,” you answered him like you were having a full conversation. “I’ll make him let you. You’re plenty old enough,” you scoffed with a laugh. “You just need a few phone books to sit on.”
He gave another happy squeak as you sat him in the hammock hanging above Din’s bed and tucked him in. You dug out the small stuffed frog that Winta had made for him back on Sorgan, with it’s bright blue felt skin and lopsided eyes, and helped him nestle it under his chin. You gave him a soft pat on the head and waited for him to close his eyes before pressing the button on the panel that closed the door with a quiet hiss. 
You heard your name being said from above you and you went to the ladder that led to the cockpit, looking up to see the Mandalorian looking down. He had brought the ship out of hyperdrive for the time being as you researched a plan of action. Without coordinates, it was pointless to travel in circles and waste precious fuel.
“Can you come up here for a second?” he asked and you nodded. 
Taking one rung at a time, you hauled yourself up into the main hull and gratefully accepted his help in order to plop your butt on the floor with a smile. You didn’t have to see his face to know he was smiling back. 
There had been precious little time for him to take off his helmet once you were back on the ship. Somehow the ship was less private than the bed you had shared in the barn. Although you were disappointed not to be able to look over and see his face whenever you wanted, you understood. This was a new experience for him in a way you would never understand, a type of vulnerability that you would never know, but how you longed to kiss him properly again. You wanted to feel his lips on the back of your neck as he curled himself behind you for sleep. All selfish reasons, of course, but that didn’t diminish them in any capacity. 
“What’s up?” you asked as you leaned back on your hands and looked at him where he stooped beside the captain’s chair. 
“I got you something.”
“Me?” You leaned up with widening eyes as you put a hand to your chest in question. 
“Is there someone else I’m traveling with?” he asked and you glared at him before realizing it was his poor attempt at dry humor. “Yes, you.”
He moved under the chair and dragged a medium sized trunk out from the alcove created by the dashboard and the control panel. You recognized it as the trunk he had received from the armorer back on Nevarro. It was a dark slate colored material and he popped the latches before 
beckoning you closer.
“I hope you like them.”
“Whatever it is,” you encouraged him. “I’m sure I will.”
“You don’t have to use any of it if you don’t want to--”
“Din, just show me.”
“Alright, okay,” he let out a heavy breath and lifted the lid before spinning the entire thing slowly around to show you.  
“You didn’t have to get me anyth--oh, goddess,” you said softly in amazement. 
Inside, carefully protected by a velvet type of lining, were crafted pieces of a silver metal. You hesitated, reaching out to touch one of them and thinking better of it before looking at him as if you needed permission. With a careful nod of his helmet, you picked up one of the cylindrical pieces and brought it closer for inspection. 
“Is it--?”
“Beskar,” he nodded. “It’s yours.”
“Din, I--”
He held up a gloved hand to stop any argument you may have had and helped you take the pieces out one by one. Two bracers that fit perfectly over your wrists and protected your forearms about two inches from your elbows. He took them gently and slipped them over your tender skin before locking them into place and letting you get used to the feeling. You made a fist with both of your hands a few times, opening and squeezing, testing how they felt.
“They lock like this,” he said after completing the motion. “They’ll deflect anything. Blaster-proof. Just hold your arm like you would defensively,” he instructed, pulling your arm up to protect your face and tapping it once with his finger. “Ping. Right off the beskar. We can practice.”
“Handy,” you nodded and he dove back into the box for the next piece. 
“This,” he offered the single pauldron to you, moving around your body slightly to fit it to your non-dominant shoulder. “Protects your dominant side by sitting opposite it.”
“Because I turn my body away from the blow?”
“Exactly.” He put it over your shoulder and clamped it down around your bicep. Hooking it securely across your torso. “Plus, the added weight on your dominant arm would slow you down if you’re using your staff.”
“Makes sense.”
“Move your arm,” he said and when you did, he adjusted it slightly. “How’s that?”
“It’s extremely generous and useful but--”
“No buts.”
“I--”
“You’re my Omega,” he interrupted you gently. “You have the right to wear it. And it’ll help keep you safe--and if you’re safe, I’m focused.” His hand came down to rest gently over your shoulder blade, covering the still tender skin of where he had marked you. 
He had a point but it still made your ears burn with embarrassment. You knew he didn’t mean it as an insult to your abilities. You had more than proven you could handle your own when you first met, but the knowledge that your safety proved a distraction to him still made you feel guilty. You felt the sudden need to apologize but you knew Din wouldn’t want to hear it, let alone entertain such an idea.
“There’s one more piece,” he said gently. He held it out gently and when you looked at him in confusion he offered his hands forward. “Can I?”
You nodded and sat still with your hands in your lap as he made sure any stray pieces of your hair were out of the way. Even with the gloves and his armor, he was always so gentle, so careful. When he was satisfied he held out the silver circlet and slipped it around the front of your forehead and over your temples. The blocky beskar came to a strong point between your brows and the edges came down in front of your ears to frame the sides of your face. Each subtle point that mirrored the larger one turned what would have been an ordinary face guard into something much more symbolic. 
“I feel ridiculous,” you said softly, not wanting to hurt his feelings but also having a hard time wrapping your head around the idea that such a piece of finery was really necessary. 
“You look breathtaking,” he argued and it made you smile. “You’re an Omega, an Ursa at that--people deserve to know.” He swallowed hard and nodded to the box. “If we find more beskar I can have a proper helmet made instead of--”
“A tiara?” you asked with a bite of wit and he chuckled. 
“It has more purpose than that, I promise.” He touched the sides that came down almost level with your jaw line. “These protect your peripherals--keeps light from obscuring your view for long range weapons.”
“Smart.”
“And this,” he touched higher, closer to your ear and a soft static hum came before you heard his next words twice, almost overlapping one another. “Has a direct com line to me.”
“That,” you put your hand over his and spoke into the mic as if to test it the other way. “Is incredibly useful.”
He gave a nod to signal that it had worked and he dropped his hand from your face to rest comfortably on your thigh. You put your hand over his and held in gently. It was beautifully crafted and you were having a hard time coming to terms with the idea that he had spent any of the rarest metal in the world on something for you. But that wasn’t the only issue, no, there was something else. An issue of the timeline. 
“When did you have this made?” you asked, tracing the metal etching that lined the outside of the bracer. 
“When we got the bounty on the kid--I had it made along with mine.”
“But that was before I agreed to be your Omega,” you said carefully, watching his body for any sign of tension. There wasn’t any. 
“I know.”
You bit your lip and looked down. With a shake of your head, you swallowed the lump in your throat before speaking. “What if I would have left? What if I never agreed to this? You--”
“But you didn’t.”
“But I could have,” you argued. “And then all of this would have been for nothing. You--”
“I had a feeling.”
You looked at him in awe and realized how much he had staked on you making the right decision. He would have sooner sold his beskar than taken away your freedom, the freedom to choose what you wanted. He had hoped against all hope that you would eventually want him, but there was no guarantee. To Din it was all left up to faith. Faith in his creed, faith in his people, faith in you. It was hard not to feel undeserving of such things, but it only confirmed that perhaps it was time that you had a little faith in him. 
Going up on your knees, you moved the metal storage box out of the way and grabbed him by the front of his chestplate. He said your name softly as you slid into his lap and his hands came around to rest on the swell of your hips. You tilted his helmet back just enough to kiss his lips, drawing a soft sound from them as he tasted you. 
“Thank you,” you said quietly and you were glad you could see his mouth move up in a genuine smile. 
“You’re very welcome.”
The more moments like this that you had, the easier it became to realize just how ‘all in’ you were when it came to the bounty hunter. When he had stepped off of his ship and chased you through the woods now flight like a lifetime ago and in a way it was. That was a different life completely. And you were okay with that. The world seemed a lot less scary now that you were on the same team. 
You leaned in to kiss him again but there was a loud bang and whoosh of energy as something dropped out of hyperspace and the Razor Crest rocked slowly. Din lowered his helmet and the two of you looked around before you slowly climbed out of his lap and to your feet. 
“What was that?”
“I’m not sure.” 
He moved to the pilot’s chair and leaned over the control board, inspecting the map and waiting for the radar to ping something back. Nearly the exact moment a blip showed up on the neon green screen, a blast screamed passed your vessel and struck the ship, rocking it back and forth. 
“Buckle in,” he barked and the two of you moved to your respective places. 
You fell into the co-pilot bucket seat to the right of the Mandalorian and placed your feet up on the footrest to brace yourself. As soon as you clicked your seat belt, your fingers instinctively wrapped around the control stick in front of you and reached up to flip the buttons on your side of the dash. Your side of the ship whirred to life as you shared control of the panel with Din, making it easier for him to focus on flying. Like you had told him before, if he handled the fancy maneuvering, you could squeeze a trigger.
Another wave of fire lit up the dark atmosphere around you and Din turned the ship to try and find the culprit behind the attack. 
“If the kid sleeps through this, I’ll be impressed,” Din said as he swiveled his own chair around and jammed the buttons for the back up thrusters. 
“I’m pretty sure he could sleep through anything,” you agreed.
“Pa-too!” 
The two of you both whipped around to see the small, green thing standing in the doorway with its arms in the air and a wide smile. 
“You were saying?” the bounty hunter chuckled and the child stumbled its way to you as the ship took a nosedive. You barely had time to grab him by the tiny cloak and haul him into your lap. 
“Got ya!” you said and he squealed with laughter. At least someone found your current predicament funny. You tucked him on your lap securely as a series of blaster fire whizzed passed the sides of the ship.  
“Hand over the Child, Mando.” A deep voice said through the com-system and when the child in question squealed again you clapped your hand over his mouth. Another round of shots pinged around you and the crest gave a jolt as one of the engines took a hit. “I might let you live.”
“Guild?” you asked and Mando nodded before grabbing a large lever to his right and yanking it down quickly. 
“You got both hands on the blaster cannons?” he asked. When you nodded, he continued. “When I say fire, let ‘em have it.”
Another hit rocked the ship as the engine on the left started to sputter and burst into flames before it powered down. Din cursed quietly under his helmet and pulled another lever to quickly power down both engines. “Hold on!” he yelled over the roar of the enemy ship as he rolled the crest out of the way of another round of fire. Stars streaked passed the windows as you both stared upwards and the other ship came directly into view. 
“I can bring you in warm,” the enemy bounty hunter said flatly, “...or I can bring you in cold.”
“That's my line,” Din said in a deadly tone before he hit the thrusters and pointed at you and the kid. “Fire!”
You squeezed the trigger on the gun leavers and shots fired from the front of the razor crest, exploding the smaller ship into a wave of orange fire and metal debris. You flinched away from the bright light and the child clapped its tiny hands as Din gave you an approving nod. 
“Oh-ah!”
“Not bad, little one,” you laughed softly, kissing the top of his green head between his ears. “Not bad.” Din clicked on a few of the switches above his head and the dashboard lit up in a series of red and orange lights. You watched him carefully and waited until he stopped before you spoke. “How bad is it?” 
“We’re losing fuel,” he said, pulling up the map and thumbing through a few different screens. He thumbed through a few of the nearby planets before double tapping the screen and bringing up one of the larger orbs. “Mos Eisley is the closest place where we could dock and get some repairs.”
“Will we make it?”
“Of course.” He pulled another leaver and the ship gave a lurch forward before it evened out. “We have enough in the power reserves to get us there--don’t worry.” 
“I’m not worried,” you said, biting your lip to keep a soft smile from gracing your features. The truth was, with Din, you were never worried. 
--
Mos Eisley was the largest spaceport on the planet of Tatooine. Din explained that what it lacked in a centralized docking bay, they made up for in the fact that they had hundreds of hangars that were each maintained by individual workers and mechanics. It sounded impressive but to you it looked like little more than a patch of dust and poorly refined sandcastles. 
The control tower told you to head for bay three-five and the Mandalorian copied as he steered the ship in that direction. The Crest had definitely seen better days as it sputtered and landed with jerky movements before finally touching down in a puff of sand and a clang of metal. 
As you drifted through the vast emptiness of space before entering the atmosphere, the child had somehow lulled himself back to sleep. It was actually pretty impressive the amount of naps he managed to squeeze in in a day. 
You carefully tucked him back into the sleeping compartment and put on the rest of the clothing you had from Arvala-7. It was still breathable but it wasn’t nearly as light as the cloth you had sported back on Sorgan. The leather riding pants and bantha hide boots would keep the sand out of your more intimate places, while the tan corded top and matching cloak kept your skin protected from the harsh sun without absorbing much of the light. 
The beskar looked out of place with the rest of your attire, but something told you it was just the fact that you weren’t used to it. What was your favorite mantra as of late? One thing at a time. 
You stopped in the doorway to the refresher and couldn’t help but stare at your reflection in the mirror. The metal of the headpiece that Din had tucked gingerly into your hairline. You had spent most of your life running from what you were: an Omega, an Ursa, a royal lineage of some kind that you had no desire to uphold. And yet, the tangible evidence was glittering on your forehead. Had Din designed such a thing or had it been at the behest of the Armorer? Somehow you felt you knew the answer to that. 
You saw Din appear behind you in the mirror before you ever heard him and you prided yourself on not nearly jumping out of your skin. 
"Good to go?"
When you nodded, he hit the button that started to lower the ramp on the main hull and you squinted against the bright sun. As you walked down the ramp a group of rust colored droids popped up from their current task and scurried towards the Mandalorian. Their saucer-shaped heads bobbed in place making them look like mushrooms on stilts as they surveyed the ship and chipped back and forth to one another.
Din pushed back his cloak and drew his blaster, firing one shot from the hip into the dirt. The droid squealed and jumped into the air before clamming up into a tiny ball. 
“Mando!” you jumped and looked at him in surprise before looking back to the shivering droid. 
“Hey!” a woman’s voice screeched from inside the building connected to the hangar. She pointed at the two of you through the window of what looked to be a very dusty office. “HEY!” she yelled again, scrambling out the door and stomping over to you. 
Next to the Mandalorian she was incredibly short, but her demeanor was so incredibly scrappy that you weren’t entirely sure who you would bet on if the two of them were in a fight. Her grey mechanic’s jumpsuit was dusty and oil stained from no doubt thousands of ship repairs. Her hair was incredibly curly, poofing out in tight ringlets all around her head to her shoulders and seemed to be growing by the second as she jabbed her finger at Din’s chest.
“You damage one of my droids, you pay for it!”
“Just keep them away from my ship,” Din said flatly, pointed his own gloved finger to the fear-filled robot.
“Yeah? You think that's a good idea, do ya?” she asked, crossing her arms over her chest before looking at you. “Blink twice if this brute is holding you hostage, honey. Though by the looks of ya, I’d say you can handle your own.”
“I’m sorry,” you apologized on Din’s behalf before you introduced yourself and stepped in front of him. “We just need some repairs.”
“The name’s Peli,” she returned the politeness and shook your hand with strong, jerky movements. “He always this grumpy?” she nodded at the bounty hunter.
“Actually you caught him on a good day,” you smiled and she chuckled. Din sighed.
“Alright, well, let's look at your ship.” She picked up a clipboard and walked over to the crest. Looking it up and down slowly, she made a fist and knocked twice on the main hull and listened to the klonk that came from the inside.
“Is it bad?” you asked.  
“Oof…” she winced as she wrote some things down. “Look at that.” She looked over her shoulder at you before gesturing to the sides of the ship. “Bad? You got a lot of carbon scoring building up top. Ya know--If I didn't know better, I'd think you were in a shootout.”
“Well…” you started and Din cleared his throat.
“Can you fix it?”
“Special tool for that one. Oh ya, I'm gonna have to rotate that…” She mumbled. Peli ignored you both as she continued to poke and prod the undercarriage of the ship before pulling down a side panel and coughing at the smoke that it produced. “You got a fuel leak! Look at that, this is a mess! How did you even land? That's gonna set you back.”
Din looked down at her as she walked back up to him and he tossed over a coin purse that jingled when she caught it. “I've got 500 Imperial Credits.”
“That all you got? Well…” she weighed the money in her hand and worried her bottom lip between her teeth. She turned to the droids who were slowly approaching again now that she was there to protect them. “What do you guys think? I mean-- that should at least cover the hangar.”
“I'll get you your money,” Din reassured her.
“Ha! I've heard that before,” she rolled her eyes.
“I promise, we’ll pay you somehow,” you interjected and Peli looked you over again before waggling her finger at you. 
“Now, you I believe.” 
That made you smile and she returned it. 
“Just remember--” Din started.
“Yeah. Yeah. No droids. I heard ya.” She stuffed the credits in her pocket. “You don't have to say it twice. Jeez. Womp rat.” She mumbled the last under her breath as the two of you took her dismissal as a sign you were free to leave. 
You waited until you and Din were out of earshot before you glared at him in disappointment. “We have got to work on your people skills.”
--
Note: When imagining the headpiece Din had made for you, I was drawing heavy inspiration off of Queen Hippolyta’s crown. Something that keeps your hair out of the way, looks futuristic and strong. 
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Hey guys, as always there is always room on the tag lists! That being said there are about 300+ of you that want to be tagged in this fic and that is totally cool, but I am human and I miss names and forget tags, SO–if your tag didn’t work, I forgot it, or you want to be moved to another group, please message me or send me an ask. Even if you have already sent me one reminding me, I PROMISE it was not on purpose. A lot of times I wont answer until I have PHYSICALLY put you on the tag list that way I don’t forget! Thank you so much. - K
TAG LISTS:
PERM:
@rae-gar-targaryen​​ @zeldasayer​​ @winters-buck​​ @gooddaykate​​ @steeeeeeeviebb​ @jigglemiwa​ @seawhisperer​​ @halefirewarrior​​ @ripleyafterdark​​ @phoenixhalliwell​​ @thebakerstboyskeeper​​ @honestlystop​​ @lackofhonor​​ @readsalot73​​ @cryptkeepersoul​ @skdubbs​​ @cahooter​ @synystersilenceinblacknwhite​ @googiebeankat​​ @dinohaze​​ @saltywintersoldat​​ @huliabitch​​ @tainted-gay-ghost​ @roxypeanut​  @hayley-the-comet​ @domino-oh-damn @corvueros​ @pettyprocrastination​ @qveenbvtch​ @hopplessdreamer​   @apples-of-february​ @pocket-of-anxiety​ @marie-is-in-the-dark​ @pikemoreno​ @Pascalplease @cosmicbug379​         @your-pixels-are-showing​ @gamingaquarius​ @blushingwueen​ @crimsonandwhiteprincess​ @bluemoon-glen​ @river-soul​ @robbinholland @nerdypinupcrystal​ @fleetwoodmactshirt​ @jaime1110​ @fioccodineveautunnale​ @fantasticcopeaglepasta​ @kid-from-new-zealand​ -- @roguereds​ @paintballkid711​ @javier-djarin​ @ellaprime7​ @kaetastic​ @veracruz-djarin​ @moonlightburned​ @nowyouwilldielikehimtoo​ @glitterfaecakes​ @karmezii​ @cyaredindjarin​ @nonink​ @irishleesh93 @heatherbel​ @himalayanwhite​ @stylelovechild​ @chews-erotically​ @sylvanas-lover @max--phillips​ @holographic-carmen​ @moonlikepascal​ @frankiemorales  @thewaythisis​ @miss-leto​ @moonagedaydream505​ @lannister-slings-and-arrows​ @atlas-adams-apple​ @lokiaddicted​ @ksgeekgirl​ @seasonschange-butpeopledont​ @nonetheleiss​ @ahopelessromanticwritersworld​ @this-cat-is-dea​ @thelastemzy​ @mymindisawhirlpool @mrschiltoncat​ @corrupt-fvcker​ @f0rever15elf​ @ohpedromypedro​ @walkerchick007​ @66wookies​ @thirstworldproblemss​ @zannemes​​ @lucifer-​ @mstgsmy​ @lunarthoughts​ @rosiefridayrogersunday​ @browneyes-djarin​ @jedi-mando​ @lv7867​ -- @emotionalswift2 @pedrothirst​ @the-importance-of-being-sasuke​ @queenbbarnes​ @lou-la-lou​ @dandywinchesterbras​ @mtjoi​ @misslexilouwho​ @thisshipwillsail316​ @sarahjkl82-blog​ @ladyperceval​ @persie33​ @greeneyedblondie44​ @unelohe @jettia​ @invisibility-thy-name-is​ @doin-stuff​ @wondergal2001​ @missroro​ @bunniwarrior​ @hb8301​
OCAC:
@mrsparknuts​ @equalstrashflavoredtrash​ @djarin-junk​ @altarsw​ @countryday​ @thottybarnes @limedane21​ @warm-tea-and-otp​ @theocatkov​ @sinnamon-bunn​ @smiithys​ @jjlizz​ @marie-is-in-the-dark​ @violetsimery​ @assassinsasha23​  @californiakoenig​ @i-hide-inside-my-head​ @paryl​ @mandowhoreian @peachdameron @imnotmentallyst4ble​ @lustriix​ @lokiaddicted​ @auty-ren​ @theocatkov​ @perropascal​ @manda-but-not-lorian​ @phenomenaaa​ @the-cosmic-ghost-18​ @mad-red @coffeeandtodd​ @lostinwonderland314​ @youmeanmybrain​ @rosalinayagi​ @mrpascals​ @humongouspandafest @highlycommendable @lucifersfavouritesinner​ @theduchessofkirkcaldy​ @spacenerdsebby @maytheglitter​ @keeper0fthestars​ @maydayfigment​ @chibi-liz05​ @fleurdemiel145​ @myhoneybeeheart @rise-my-angel​ @popculturepriestess​ @kochamcie​ @gallowsjoker​ @beefthief247 @ginger-swag-rapunzel​ @toilet-keeper​ @that-one-weird-one​ @thesoftdumbass​ @mandalorianbrat  @ghostwiththemostbitch​ @mstgsmy​ @rosalinayagi​ @sesamepancakes​ @the-wandering-pan-ace​ @straycatoncrack @anteatingbitchlizard​ @dandywinchesterbras​ @marvelous-capsicle​ @altarsw​ @thesoftdumbass @misslolasworld​ @sunshine-and-peppermint-tea @generalbluebirdphantomc​ @haleypearce​ @lakeli​ @jeor​ @shadowfoxey​ @screamingexternally​ @wonder-jedi @1800-fight-me​ @mar-y-tixrra​ @fanficshitandother @03stepedwa @rogertaylorsfalsettogivesmehives @nerd-without-a-cause​ @lonelystarship​ @valhallavalkyrie9​ @stra1ghtn0chaser @celestialscrewup​ @simply-sams-things​ @rosemirrors​ @pansexualdriver​ @wanderlust69​ @taydjarin​ @harrypotter3941​ @what-is-life-in-general​ @hidden-whatever @womenofwharton @amanda-loriannn @justawilddreamerchild @mahowg-blog​ @mlb4evah @ayamenimthiriel​ @bekahbug94 @ayamenimthiriel @obiwanwhore​ @womenofwharton @subtlestarrs​ @chook007​ @alovelypeach @heykathchuu​ @mellomadness​ @t3a-bag​ @izthefangirl @misslexilouwho​ @devcaisnea @misguidedandbeguiled​ @tedpicklez​ @vampgguk​ @risingphoenix641 @the-scandalorian​ @mcueveryday​ @setsuna-meiou31​ @tanyaherondale​ @lordofthenerds97​ @youre-a-wallflower-charlie​ @grogusmum​ @beefcakebarnes​ @pedritopascall​ @4ng3lf43 @petersunderoos96​ @cannedsoupsucks​ @greatcircle79​ @spideysimpossiblegirl​ @angelcvsmic​ @bel-ppa​ @julesorwhatever​ @giselatropicana​ @buckysbackpack​ @dankest-farrik​ @ajeff855​ @aerolanya​ @bluegirlusa1​ @momc95​ @sickinthesoul​ @grippleback-galaxy​ @certainwerewolfnight​ @bookloverfilmoholic​ @a-coffee-addict-613​ @an-author-of-stars @darlingotaku​ @darlingotaku​ @arduadastra​ @pansexualdriver​ @rosemirrors​ @simply-sams-things​ @xxtwizztedxx​ @call-me-soap​ @nerdthickly​
565 notes · View notes
seriouslysnape · 3 years
Text
Teacher’s Pet
__
Severus Snape x Fem! Professor! Reader
Warnings: Smut. Teacher/Student Roleplay.
Request: what about snape and a fellow teacher in a pre-established relationship, but the reader is roleplaying as a student for some fun bedroom play? maybe some funny stuff about how he’s sweeter on her than the actual students?
A/N: HNksdnasodasndk WOW I LIKE THIS ONE.
Word Count: 1,970
“I told you that you’re sweeter on me.”
__
Tumblr media
“You’re tense, Severus.” Your gentle voice spoke out to break the silence in Severus’ home study.
The strain in his muscles caused a wince to clearly show on your expression as your hands massage at his shoulders and back. Fridays usually proved to be the hardest on Severus. The students were always much more rambunctious and much more difficult to control when they had the weekend on their consciences, much to his dismay. Students of all Houses had given him a run for his money today, even the Hufflepuffs who were usually the most well behaved were causing Severus grief. 
Cauldrons had been knocked over, potions were spilled onto the floor, glass vials were broken into tiny pieces, and heated arguments had broken out that Severus had to break up, and he had assigned at least five kids to detention.  On top of everything else, all the kids had seemed to be off the walls with excitement.
The absolute bane of Severus’ occupation.
He was disgruntled and aggravated when he returned to his home office, plopping himself behind his desk near the bed and sitting there to stew. He feared that his sour mood would cause him to snap at you and start a fight that he surely didn’t want to have.
However, he should’ve known that you’d come looking for him when he wasn’t where he was supposed to be. Professors weren’t supposed to reside outside of the castle during the school year, but Severus wanted to get away from just one night. You peeked into his bedroom with a bright grin, indicating that you had clearly had a much better day than he had. His irritation was very obvious to you, so you allowed yourself in and had rubbed his shoulders and given him sweet kisses to soothe him.
He had told you all about his terrible day, not leaving out any detail.
“Darling, I’ve been fending off obnoxious students all day. You’d be uptight as well.” He grumbled, rolling his neck to try and work out the hard knots.
A soft laugh fell from your lips, sending a rush of warmth to shoot through Severus’ heart.
“Oh, come on. They’re just kids. They were good today.” You remarked, firmly running your fingers along his arms.
“They’re always good for you,” Severus claimed; “Even my Slytherins don’t give you any trouble.” 
You moved from behind him to stand beside him, looking into his tired pools of black.
“Because I’m flexible with them. I understand how difficult things can get and I offer my help for those who need it,” You explained; “You don’t have to be their friend or anything, but you could be easier to work for.” 
Severus scoffed incredulously. That was probably the biggest difference between the two of you. You had very different views when it came to teaching. Students seemed to favor you over Severus (however, most students preferred anyone over Severus) due to your friendly nature. You were warm hearted and made sure your students knew you were available as a resource to them. They respected you as a professor and were comfortable around you as a friend.
“Maybe if you weren’t such a hard ass all the time, they might like you a little more.” You added, hiding your smirk.
Severus’ eyebrows dipped a tad, his tongue running along the inside of his cheek.
“Watch yourself. I’ll send you to detention too.” He said purely as a joke, but his body flushing with arousal when he saw your demeanor turn lustful.
“Have I been bad, Professor?” You purred, your voice going up a pitch.
The use of his work title coming from your lips was turning him on way more than he would’ve liked to admit. His pale cheeks went dark red, and his skin began to itch with desire. 
“I think you already know the answer to that.” He rumbled, sitting up a little straighter so he could touch you.
One of his hands came to peel off your long winter coat to show more of your skin that was hidden away, but his pupils blew about 3x their usual size when he saw what you were wearing underneath. It was a seemingly innocent outfit to someone who wasn’t very observant, but to Severus it was about as scandalous as he could handle.
“What are you wearing?” He asked lowly, his eyes unashamedly gawking over your chosen outfit.
It was an old uniform skirt of yours from your days at Hogwarts, adorned with your House colors and the mascot stitched in the lower left side of the skirt. It was much shorter than when you wore it as a student. You had grown taller since first wearing it and you now filled it out in a much more provocative way since you had been in your adolescent years. 
“This old thing? I just had to change before coming to see you,” You teetered, knowing good and well it was driving him wild; “You know, I think you’re much sweeter on me than your other students, Professor.”
“My other students don’t look at me the way you do. My resolve is so very thin around you,” He reminded you, his hand sliding up your leg to push the skirt past your hips. A surprised exhale of air escaped his chest when he saw you weren’t wearing anything underneath; “Not even wearing your knickers...I’m tempted to take House points away for your behavior.”
Ecstatic thrills buzzed through you that he had jumped onto your little game. You arched your back to meet his frame as his hands began to massage at your hips.
“Oh, please. Anything but that!” You mocked a desperate tone.
A hard, rutted fucking would take tension away from even the most strained of people. Severus needed a good stress release, and you knew this was a hell of a good way to do so, and have some fun while you were at it.
“Bad students have to be punished, Miss [L/N]. Actions have consequences.” He tutted.
Arousal was beginning to glisten your inner thighs, something that Severus never failed to notice. His fingertips were ice cold against your heated sex, a pitiful whimper leaving your lips when he glacially dragged his fingers through your folds.
“Surely...there’s something I can do to rectify my behavior, Professor.” You purred out in a hush of a voice.
“Are you suggesting what I think you are? You’re much worse than I thought...” Severus teased.
Severus stared at you thoughtfully when you only looked at him through batting lashes. His fingers were stilled and refusing to move despite your desperate grinds against his hand. He stood from his chair to tower over you, a rush of intimidation and desire beginning to spew through the cracks of the dam that was ready to crumble completely.
“Get on the bed.” He ordered.
You teased your lower lip with your teeth, obliging to his husky command and retreating to his large bed, sinking and sprawling yourself out on the mattress seductively. This was a damn gorgeous sight to see. He loved the way you were wriggling with anticipation and expectation for him. Your thighs were rubbing together to create even just an ounce of friction to appease the ache.
“You’re so impatient. If you’re so needy then I suppose you can get yourself of-”
“No! Please, I need you, sir,” You droned. 
He had joined you on the bed, placing a knee on either side of you to keep you from going anywhere. He watched your squirm some more while he removed his belt and pants in a painfully slow fashion. He was determined to bring you to the brink of insanity. He wanted every noise that came out of you to either be a plea or a moan. 
“I’m feeling rather generous tonight.” He fished his hard dick out of his boxers, the sight filling you with joy.
You couldn’t help but smirk up at him, rolling your hips into his pelvis casually.
“I told you that you’re sweeter on me.” You grinned.
With that statement and without missing a beat, Severus shoved all of his cock into your throbbing entrance, the dam breaking completely. A stunned cry wailed out into the room, echoing off of the walls. Severus didn’t even bother to strip you of your clothes. 
He had all the access he needed.
He gave you only a few seconds to adjust to his length before he started pounding into you. You didn’t realize just how much pent up stress and aggravation he really had until each new thrust had your eyes rolling back into your head.
You thanked your lucky stars that you were in the privacy of his home and not his quarters at school, because even with a silencing charm you were sure that it’d be blatantly obvious what was happening. You didn’t think it was possible, but he started pushing in even harder, earning him a praise.
“Oh, fuck! Severus...” You rang out, not even realizing your mistake.
He stopped completely, his hand coming up to grip your chin to make you look at him. 
“Do you call all of your professors by their first name? I probably should just leave you here for-”
“Please, no! I’m sorry, Professor Snape, just...please, don’t stop.” You yowled pathetically. 
Severus rotated his hips to find a new angle as well as putting your heel on his shoulder to push into you deeper. He started fucking into you again, almost breaking when he saw the way your eyes squinted shut.
“Such a bad girl,” He muttered out through thrusts; “Showing up to see your professor and expecting a reward.” 
You moaned out in response, your brain was too cloudy to form a verbal response. Your breasts were pushing against the thin material of your shirt, your lacy bra underneath just barely visible. He held your wrists above your head to keep them pinned down, his other hand firmly gripping your thigh draped on his shoulder.
Severus' pace and pressure was perfect, throwing you into a continuous spiral of pleasure with each delicious movement. He was sucking hard hickeys on your neck and just on the tops of your breasts, leaving marks to let the world know you were his. 
That familiar coil was hot and close to snapping at any moment. Severus twitched somewhere deep inside of you, hitting every bundle of nerves he could possibly find. It wasn’t until his ring and index finger found your clit and began rubbing firm circles that you alerted him.
“P-Professor, I’m close.” You whimpered, praying that he wasn’t going to stop now.
He didn’t stop, continuing his perfect thrusts. 
“Let go, darling. I’ve got you.” He said through a strained voice.
With a final lust driven hum, you clenched and came around him, his own release spilling into you shortly after. He filled you with everything he had with a loud groan. His recent release mixed with yours as it leaked from you onto the sheets. Severus didn’t care in the least. 
He fell next to you, breathings heavy and words feeling impossible to come by. The lust had cleared from his vision, and he was feeling much more relaxed now. 
“Are you alright, love?” He asked, pulling your skirt down to cover at least a little bit of you from the cold hair.
A sleepy, satisfied smile appeared on your face as you nodded. He captured your lips in a lazy kiss, your voice breaking it shortly after.
“I think...it’s safe to say that I’m your favorite student.” You joked.
Severus chuckled.
“Well, if you WERE a student then yes. But I’m perfectly happy with how things are.” He praised.
You giggled lightly, kissing him once more.
“Yeah. Me too.”
801 notes · View notes
Text
Tumblr media
Stare Enough
Fandom: The Falcon and the Winter Soldier Pairing: Sam Wilson/Bucky Barnes Rating: T Word Count: 4034
Summary: Bucky's got a new stare. Sam spends all afternoon and most of the evening working up the courage to meet it.
Both Sam and the food are the main attraction at this party and the problem with that situation is that it takes so damn long for one main attraction to get a second to enjoy the other.
He’s grateful—god, is he grateful—for the turnout. Friends, neighbours, the kind of people he and Sarah call family without there being any actual relation by blood, they’ve all shown up. Since the Blip, Sam’s felt like he’s always around, but this feels like a real homecoming. No sadness, nothing bittersweet. It’s a celebration and he’s at the center of it. Him and the food.
At last, Sam’s done the circuit with his plate, spooning creamy salads and grilled vegetables, stacking shellfish pink as a sunrise. There’s a fresh-baked roll perched atop a scoop of sweet potatoes and caramelized onions that smells so fucking warm and mouth-watering he has to resist walking with his nose buried in it. He collects a set of utensils furled in the middle of a paper napkin (courtesy of an efficient assembly line of old ladies, chatting and twisting neat rolls of cutlery), plate bowing into the palm of his other hand, and that’s when his damn phone vibrates in his pocket.
Sam halts and makes a sound of frustration. Nobody’s come to this thing empty-handed, so there are dishes crowding the surface of the tables, no place to set his plate down. His phone vibrates again. A teenager comes up to peruse the spread in front of him and Sam sighs, knowing what he’s about to do.
“Here,” he says heavily, offering up his beautifully arranged and wonderfully fragrant meal. The cob of corn shining with the butter he lovingly smeared over it nearly rolls over the edge. “You’re the luckiest kid in the world.”
Quickly, Sam turns away, sliding out his phone and bringing it to his ear. He doesn’t want to witness the boy digging in. His stomach growls as he greets Joaquin Torres.
“Sam,” Torres says. “Uh, I mean, sir. Mr. Captain Am… Captain Wil—”
“Take it easy,” Sam laughs. “You know me, Torres. Don’t get starstruck now.”
“Honestly, I never really got over you being the Falcon. Now that you’re Captain America… Apologies if it takes me a little while to be cool about it.” After a pause—taken while Torres attempts to become cool with Sam being Captain America, Sam assumes—he asks, “You celebrating?”
Not far from where Sam’s standing, there are two little girls singing along to their clapping game. At a table behind them, a trio of elderly gentlemen are arguing over which one of them it was that caught that 50-pound snapper off the dock back in 1978. There’s a sear of meat and fish being rotated onto and off of the grill and, bouncing over everything, music from a speaker someplace.
“Yeah,” Sam says with a broad grin. “Yeah, we are. I��d save you a plate, but I can’t even manage to hang onto my own.”
He doesn’t mention that Torres is responsible for that situation; he’s aware that, besides being a fan, the Lieutenant is a little bit infatuated with him. Sam’s trying to be gentle until the day he can respond to Torres with friendly smack-talk, the way he would Steve or Scott or Bucky. Maybe not exactly like he does with Bucky.
“Don’t worry about it,” Torres cheerfully insists. “I wasn’t calling for that, I just wanted to give you a heads up about something.”
“Alright. Let me just…”
Sam strides away from the heart of the party towards the water, seeking quiet. Kids dart in front of him and that’s nothing unusual, but when he follows them with his gaze, he sees they’re running towards Bucky. Bucky, who has his Vibranium arm extended and two kids dangling off it already, one of whom might be Sam’s nephew. Of course, Mr. Casual, Mr. Smiles, Mr. Social Butterfly, is carrying on a conversation like his arm isn’t being used as a jungle gym. A conversation with Sarah.
For just a moment, Sam stops in his tracks, considering whether he should go over there and break up any potential flirting. But then he watches them. Bucky’s just talking to her, not flicking his gaze up and down while he checks her out. And Sarah, she’s relaxed and smiling, totally at ease, like Bucky’s another member of their community. That makes him a friend. Family.
That’s one thought too far and Sam jerks himself into motion again, walking until he’d be swimming with another step.
“What’ve you got for me?”
“Well, I’ve been trying to watch as much of the coverage of the fight outside the GRC vote as I can, trying to get a sense of how they’re spinning Walker’s reappearance, the legacy of the Flag-Smashers now that Karli and her inner circle are gone… Anyway, there’s a lot of footage and you’re at the center of most of it.”
“Guess the new suit draws the eye. And the cameras.” It’s no surprise to Sam. Part of the job of being Captain America.
“Yeah, but…”
“What is it, Torres?”
“Bucky’s in the background a lot,” he explains in a voice that tells Sam there’s more Torres isn’t saying.
“Makes sense. He was in the thick of it as much as I was.”
“He’s there at the end too. When you were talking to the Senator about power and the common struggle. Man, that was a great speech. Do you think—”
“Torres. Please. The point.”
“Right, for sure, man. Bucky never takes his eyes off you.”
That flusters Sam for a second. He wasn’t expecting the blunt delivery, especially of those words. He squints down at the water where it’s lapping the side of the dock. He knew Bucky was there; they spoke right after, when Bucky tried to feed him that bullshit (and he knew it was bullshit at the time) about texting and missing the exact speech Torres is apparently still hung up on.
“So Bucky was actually listening to me,” Sam says carefully. “That’s a surprise, but it isn’t really the kind of thing that’s significant enough for you to bother notifying me about, is it?”
“I’d say that depends on what you consider significant.”
“Torres.”
“I know, but he’s not just listening! It’s how he’s looking at you!”
“Like he’s wishing I would wrap it up?” Oh, Sam remembers Bucky’s miracle from their session with Dr. Raynor.
“Like he’s totally into you! Major heart eyes. Sir,” Torres hastily adds.
And Sam should reprimand him for this. Calling with a trivial piece of information when he must know Sam’s already being very selective about which of the hundreds of recent calls (and it’d be more if more people had this number) he chooses to pick up. Calling to speculate on how Bucky was staring at Sam that night in New York.
“I don’t need to tell you this is gonna be one of those investigations we keep between you and me,” Sam states.
“For sure. I just thought maybe you’d wanna know.”
“Uh huh. You get any real news, you pass it along.”
“I will.”
Sam ends the call and turns. He looks to his right: the sparkling river. His left: his people, all the way down to the squirt with the glasses who’s hanging off a metal arm, and the man that arm belongs to.
He’s felt it, the way that Bucky stares. It’s not like it used to be though, when it irked Dr. Raynor at the police station in Baltimore, or confused Walker and Hoskins in the back of that jeep in Germany. This new stare of Bucky’s isn’t one Sam’s ever caught him doing. Bucky hasn’t quite let him. That’s actually how Sam noticed it was happening—Bucky would immediately glance away instead of leaving that dead expression on his face when Sam met his eye. Now that he has proof of it, proof he’s certain Torres would send him footage of in an instant if he asked, he’s scared to look.
Instead, he watches Bucky look at other people. Like Sarah. Like kids from the neighbourhood. His literal hangers-on disperse as Sam observes, scattered after Bucky leans towards them to say something. Sam sees half his smile and even that much has his heart swelling up in his chest. Bucky weaves through the tables and standing groups, the dancers and the kids who’ve broken out a skipping rope. (After eating from that buffet? Kids are crazy. Gonna make themselves sick.)
Without thinking too hard about it, Sam returns to the noise and the smells, trailing Bucky with a stealthy eye on his ass in those jeans. There’s no friction here between him and everybody else Sam cares about, he can see that in every short, friendly exchange someone engages Bucky in as he walks. Things flow as smoothly as the butter oozing off the corn Sam reluctantly gave up. Clearly, they remember Bucky from when he was here helping with the boat. They respect him. They like him. They’ve gotten to that last thing faster than Sam has, which makes Sam feel a little embarrassed as well as a little overwhelmed by how much the two of them have actually been through. He’s seen Bucky as a mindless killer and it almost brings a genuine tear to his eye—here on this glorious day in front of all these folks—to see the dork who rushed out to get his hands on a copy of The Hobbit in 1937 return in his current form as the dork who’ll take a fake punch from AJ and blush over brazen old women telling him how handsome he is.
Bucky stares different? Well. Sam feels different about the staring.
Sam keeps his distance until Bucky reaches the food, then his stomach gurgles a reminder than he hasn’t eaten yet. No ass is nice enough to distract him from his meal. He sidles up beside him and Bucky seems unsurprised, not even glancing over.
“Anything important?” he asks.
“What?”
“Your phone call,” Bucky clarifies, adding a heap of glossy green beans to his plate. Damn, those are some of Sam’s favourite. Bucky better not take all of them. “They need us somewhere?”
“Oh. No.”
Bucky shoots him a suspicious look after this stilted response, but he doesn’t say anything until Sam grabs a plate of his own, hungry eyes roving the feast that’s diminishing now that people have started coming back for second helpings.
“Put that down,” Bucky instructs. He doesn’t wait; he takes the plate out of Sam’s hand and tosses it back towards the pile. Thankfully, the plates are made of paper.
“Buzz off, man,” Sam tells him, reaching for the plate again. “I’m starving.”
“I figured.”
Wait.
“That’s for me?” he guesses, gazing longingly at the plate Bucky’s preparing.
“Yep.”
When Sam doesn’t reply, Bucky pauses with the plate in one hand and a serving spoon in the other and sighs.
“I didn’t want you to miss the good stuff. This party’s for you.”
“I think it might be for both of us.”
Bucky seems too self-conscious to say anything to that. He goes back to loading up Sam’s plate while Sam quietly feels his throat close up with emotion as he watches. He clears it gruffly.
“I woulda had to eat the cake you brought,” he jokes. “Pretty sure only the really little kids have eaten any. You know, people who don’t know better.”
“I was tryin’ to be a good guest.”
“I can’t believe you brought a store-bought cake,” Sam says, laughing as he grabs a set of cutlery for the second time and continuing to shuffle along next to Bucky.
“Have you ever seen me cook?”
“…No.”
“Exactly. Trust me, what I did was kinder.”
“If you say so.”
“You know what, Sam?” Bucky demands challengingly, turning to face him. “I do say so.”
Sam’s eyes go from the plate Bucky’s holding between them up to Bucky’s face. He’s close. And he’s got this look, this dancing look in his eyes that undercuts the shit out of the hard line of his eyebrows. Trying to seem all stern. All Sam can think for several seconds is that, if he just grabbed Bucky by the chain around his neck and hauled him forward, they’d never get the food stains out of their clothes. But their laundry would smell delicious.
He clears his throat.
“Then you better stay for a while.”
The corner of Bucky’s mouth twitches up and he hands Sam the plate he’s prepared for him.
“I plan to.”
When Sam picks a table to sit at, he makes sure there’s enough room for Bucky too. When Bucky sits next to him, he sits so close that their thighs press together and claims that’s all the space there is. Bucky talks and laughs when other people at the table talk to him. He’s easily drawn into conversation now and Sam feels weirdly proud of having brought this great guy home to meet everybody, even if he’s not here like that. People tells stories about last week and last century interchangeably, one old smartass making Bucky howl with laughter when they toss out a memory of Little Sam Wilson streaking from his house to the river for a naked swim. This is the danger of welcoming Bucky into the community. Sam, suppressing a smile, doesn’t really mind.
Elbows up on the table so he can eat, talk, and gesture emphatically with his fork, Sam feels Bucky’s stare creeping up on him. Slow, like the sun slides across the landscape when the clouds blow past. Bucky didn’t make this food, but Sam can feel his satisfaction as he watches Sam accept what he provided. Feels like there are grasshoppers springing around in his stomach. He still has a roll on his plate, one side soaked in family-secret barbecue sauce, and he tears it in half. While the rest of their table are caught up in some story being boisterously told by overlapping voices, Sam turns to Bucky and wordlessly offers the bread, edges dimpled where he gripped to split it. They watch each other chew and Sam’s closed mouth is smiling.
Inevitably, somebody pulls Sam back into the conversation and he does his best to laugh and heckle, covering the fact that he wasn’t listening, that he dropped the thread. The voices rise and rise and fall like water slopping over the side of a bucket.
In the next quiet moment, Bucky inclines toward him slightly and says, “You wanna talk later?”
And Sam says, “Sure.”
The day feels long, long, long, and Sam’s face gets sore from smiling, tired from talking. He does not confess that to Bucky, who’s almost always at his side. Lights go on overhead and beers come out of coolers, leftover food packed up and redistributed among neighbours, small children with drooping eyelids toted home. At first, Sam thinks Bucky’s leaning into his side because he’s drained from so much socializing too, but when he meets his eye, he just sees an invitation.
“Where are you two goin’?” Sarah asks when they slink past her carrying a too-big Cass in her arms.
“Just walkin’,” Sam tells her.
“Gotta stretch our legs,” Bucky contributes.
She looks from Sam to Bucky and back, smiling knowingly.
“Uh huh,” Sarah says.
Sam grabs Bucky by the shoulder to turn him forcibly away from his sister’s insinuations and just… forgets to let his hand fall as they wander along the water. Bucky’s steps angle towards his until his arm’s bumping Sam’s side, Sam’s arm slung around his shoulders. Is this still the body language of a couple buddies on a warm Delacroix night? Is it now, when Sam drops his arm and brushes the back of his hand across Bucky’s?
They leave the party lights on the horizon with the lazily setting sun, scrabbling off the end of the dock and onto the riverbank. Sam reaches up to give Bucky a hand down, so he won’t step in the soft mud and sink to his ankles. Bucky clasps his hand firmly and jumps.
The sound of people drops off down here and the sound of wind in grass, frogs hiding between reeds, rises.
“Are there alligators in here?” Bucky wonders, scanning the river’s edge.
Sam laughs.
“For sure.”
“And you swam here when you were a kid?”
“Even then,” Sam boasts, puffing his chest out, “my courage was legendary.”
“Yeah, and your nudity. Is there anyone within a mile of here who hasn’t seen your bare ass?”
Their eye contact holds. Oh right. Sam breaks away with an awkward, hiccupping laugh, directing his gaze at the dirt.
“The gators haven’t gathered too close to the dock in decades,” he promises Bucky. He stares out at the undisturbed water, enjoying the sun on his face. “Got skittish of the boats. Most of ’em, anyway.”
“Consider me not entirely reassured.”
“You scared of a little Louisiana lizard, man? Didn’t you grow up with Creature from the Black Lagoon?”
“Nah, that was after my time.”
“Damn, you’re old.”
Bucky snorts a laugh, refusing to look at him.
“You wanna take a dip?” Sam goads.
“No.”
But by the time Sam’s pulling his shirt over his head, Bucky’s peeling off his socks. Sam spares him a smile and keeps going, the ground soft underfoot. It could be like the few times they’ve changed in proximity to one another before, but it’s not. He senses Bucky’s eyes on him the whole time. Face hot, he takes a quick look in Bucky’s direction as he’s unzipping his jeans. His heart feels like his new suit—wings just waiting to unfurl.
When they’re down to their underwear, they wade in.
God, it feels nice. The water’s cool and the sun’s clinging to the horizon.
“Just don’t get any water in your mouth,” Sam instructs, then dunks his face and comes up squirting water at Bucky from between the gap in his front teeth, a trick he perfected as a kid. “That arm ain’t gonna rust, right?”
“You asked for this,” Bucky warns. He points a menacing finger and plunges below the surface.
Sam twists as he treads water, trying to see what’s going on down there, searching for a ripple or bubbles of released air. His legs move in twitchy kicks because that’s where he’s expecting Bucky to grab him. But the idiot is playing some kind of psychological game first, making Sam wait a full minute. Two minutes. Three.
He’s opening his mouth to call out Bucky’s name when he breaks the surface. Sam’s ready to swap the concern he was about to form into words into a taunt instead—did Bucky get down there and decide the scariest thing he could do was let Sam’s imagination take over?—until Bucky shakes his head and slicks his hair back. Then the words get caught in Sam’s throat and he just kinda stares.
“There was a really gross fish down there,” Bucky informs him. “Do you guys have eels there? Mighta been an eel. Maybe we should get out.”
“Alrighty, scaredy-cat, let’s get you to shore.”
Bucky propels himself out in front, arms moving in powerful strokes, and Sam’s hand darts out on instinct, fingers closing around Bucky’s hard calf muscle. Bucky jerks and Sam burst into loud laughter.
“Did you think that was an eel? Did you?”
“You’re lucky I…”
I’m lucky you what? Sam wants to ask when Bucky trails off, but he just swims after him.
During their game/possible eel panic (there’s no way it was an eel), they weren’t always fighting the current, so they’ve drifted downstream some. Bucky takes sloppy, sloshing steps out of the water, underwear that might’ve been light grey now dark and plastered to his ass. Sam feels like he’s choked on river water, though his mouth is dry. He lumbers out too and they begin the march back in the direction of the dock and their clothes. The water tickles as it runs down Sam’s legs; must be bugging Bucky too because he plucks his waistband away from his skin before letting it snap back. Clenching his jaw, Sam stops himself from trying to see too much.
This end of the dock is made of old boards before it transitions to pavement farther down, wood smooth on Sam’s feet when he and Bucky haul themselves up, dropping their collected clothes and shoes into a single pile. No point getting dressed until they’re dry, so they sit on the edge of the dock, feet swinging. Feels good. Feels home. They don’t speak until the sun’s set, the sky orange, then grey, then rich, velvety blue.
“You know, don’t you?” Bucky asks softly.
“Know?”
“Yeah, you know. Whenever you don’t know something, you talk and talk—”
“Sometimes I can work through a problem better if I vocalize,” Sam explains.
“But when you do know,” Bucky goes on, ignoring Sam’s input, “you’re quiet.” He looks at Sam. “You’re quiet.”
What else is Sam? Nervous. His skin’s prickling with it, and because even the warm air feels cold when he’s just climbed out of the river. There’s a wet patch spreading around him that he can barely see with evening rapidly deepening into night. He lifts a hand from the dock and sweeps it up his neck, brushing water droplets away.
Without glancing over, he says, “You’re doing that thing you do.”
“What?”
“Staring. That new stare you do.”
“Maybe,” Bucky acknowledges. A bird starts calling, the sound drifting in and away like the sway of a hypnotist’s watch and Bucky’s silent until it’s over. “Maybe I’m staring for the same reason you’re quiet.”
Sam waits. Bucky doesn’t add anything, so Sam turns to look at his face, hung with cool shadows.
“You’re not gonna say it, are you?”
“I thought you would say it,” Bucky argues defensively.
“You’re the one who’s been staring at me like that for a week. You should go first!”
“Please, you don’t even know how I’m staring at you, I only do it when you’re not looking.”
“Do it now then and see what happens,” Sam dares him.
“Fine.”
Just like that, Bucky locks in like Sam’s attention is the only handhold on a sheer cliffside. Vital and stable, a last chance, the one thing around him that wants to help him higher instead of watching him fall. A lot of that’s familiar from his regular hard stare, but then something opens up behind his eyes. Some fragile thing (that might be Bucky’s sense of caution) breaks. Suddenly, Sam’s seeing what Joaquin saw in the news footage and amateur cell phone video. Except he’s seeing it two feet in front of him. It’s intense. It makes the air a little harder to breathe.
Bucky’s lips curve into a smile, then part as he says, “I love—”
Hopefully, he wasn’t going to end that sentence with ‘store-bought cake,’ because Sam can’t really take back his reaction. The finger slipping behind Bucky’s ear as he cradles his face, the mouth sealed to his. Especially that. Thankfully, Bucky kisses him back, just as hard, and then harder.
“Thank god,” Sam pants when they break apart.
“You interrupted me.”
“I got you to stop talking? Guess we’re in my miracle.”
“I’d complain…” Bucky shrugs. “…but your miracle is pretty nice.”
“Not bad, right?”
He sighs and looks out over the water. Bucky pushes up on his fists and sits closer, offering his hand for Sam to interlace their fingers.
“Hey,” Sam prompts when it hits him that it’s super dark outside and they aren’t gonna dry much more like this, “did you book a hotel room again?”
“You kiddin’ me? I spent all my money on that cake.”
Sam laughs.
“Right, well, I guess you need a place to stay tonight then.”
“You know anything nearby?” Bucky asks with a soft smile.
Getting to his feet and bracing to pull Bucky up after him, Sam uses his free hand to motion towards their clothing pile.
“Put your pants on,” he says, “and I’ll see what I can do.”
171 notes · View notes
featherfur · 3 years
Text
Meng Yao should have been around when Jiang Cheng was running around with his head cut off trying to make disciples out of rogues and convince everyone to get started on the war. I just think he’d see this, probably manic, idiot who needs help and is 100% willing to be bossed around and who really doesn’t care about Meng Yao station in life because he’s just fucking desperate and wants to die but can’t because Yanli and just go “actually I’m interested”. Because Jiang Cheng would riot if he knew Meng Yao wanted to go back to his dad, and well Jiang Cheng is very pathetic when he thinks he’s being left behind (“You’re leaving me for the Jin just like Shijie? Tears and loud words for you! Tears and loud words dor a thousand years!”)
And Meng Yao would have a spot in Lotus Pier where he is VERY clearly wanted, he probably doesn’t become sworn brothers with anyone (or LXC and NMJ realize that no one needs to give the Jin any more influence and become sworn brothers with Jiang Cheng) unless it’s Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian (unfortunately WWX will still probably be killed or hunted at the very least but atleast Qin Su is alive? Maybe having MY around will help calm JC into the fact that LWJ wants to bang his brother and help him so JC can convince WWX to let LWJ atleast play for him, then maybe WWX can accidentally let slip about him already destroying one half and LWJ can help destroy the other half… Dunno if the Wen Remnants survive either sorry, honestly I don’t know if anyone can stop JGS in the long run)
So there’s two ways this goes: (under read more I have Thoughts)
Meng Yao DOES go to the Jin Sect still because JC gets wanting your Dad’s Approval even when he’s a dick AND he protects Yanli who immediately adopted him when JC showed up to the war with him. Without being stuck between a Rock and a Hard place (sorry NMJ not everyone is a annoyingly stubborn with their morals as you and MY is being hurt :( leave him alone :(( ) MY is able to continue being pressured without breaking and even though JGS keeps trying to get him to manipulate JC, MY won’t and won’t manipulate NMJ either and every time he goes to Lotus Pier to ‘look into’ the Jiang Sect he actually just spends the week being plied with children and listening to Jiang Cheng explain the fashion industry Again and talk about silks vs cashmeres vs wool so he just gets a vacay and is more prepared to stand up against his dad.
Also JC and Yanli catch on pretty quick to Madam Jin abusing MY because they were there after Madam Yu would hurt WWX and they know the signs of trying to hide the pain and Yanli suddenly starts Show Up whenever Madam Jin tries anything because that is her Didi now and she will protect him and if anyone ELSE tries to mess with him she will rip them apart like when Jin Zixun tries to bother WWX.
JGS does eventually manage to frame something on WWX but MY intervenes immediately by telling JC the truth and without the ‘did my kinda insane PTSD ridden brother so this?” Panic thoughts JC gets his people and is waiting for the force of Jin and smaller sects, with his two sworn brothers on either side. Because yeah NMJ absolutely hates the Wen but can he really ignore LXC and JC? Plus NHS on the side? He’s only there to protect WWX, anyone else can get fucked and even then he’s only protecting WWX because JC asked him too because NMJ thinks WWX sucks for choosing the wens because he’s very much of the one track ‘the wens suck’ mind. MY pretends he has no idea what’s going on but he does summon Jin Zixuan on ‘accident’ who shows up, annoyed he had to leave his kid, and is like “are we really going to accuse Nie Mingjue, known Wen hater, of protecting Wei Wuxian and lying about his innocence? Because his sword is the same size as my body and I’d rather Not”
(okay he’s more polite and subtle but that’s the gist) somehow Jin Guangshan dies, I’m voting Yanli poisoned him because I think Meng Yao is 100% willing at this point to simply take the abuse because Jiang Cheng and Lan Xichen aren’t essentially telling him to murder his father and that he’s stupid for not holding harder to his morals (sorry NMJ,,, you just,, I love you but MY is hurting and he’s not as stabby as you) NMJ is still very much crankily telling him his dad sucks whenever they meet but Jiang Cheng gets all sparkly whenever MY is around because MY will say he’s Doing Good, so there’s only so much room before JC start just biting anyone who even looks at MY wrong. (NMJ says he’s proud of JC once and JC just starts crying and NMJ UnderstandsTM why MY won’t leave him alone)
But Yanli has to be the one to kill him because MY wouldn’t because he’s a filial son and probably hasn’t lost his hope he will be Loved, Jin Zixuan wouldn’t because he’s like the only one in the entire show not down with murder, Madam Jin is not about to give up the power and money that comes from being the wife of Jin Guangshan even if JZX would take care of her because Yanli clearly is willing to rip everyone apart who fucks with her family and unlike Jiang Cheng is willing to change the status quo, and if JGS dies on a hunt they’ll blame WWX so Yanli just poisons him slowly and he dies from ‘illness’. JZX takes power, Meng Yao is told he’s amazing twelve times a day because JZX can do busy work and argue against anyone but he cannot have a small talk conversation to save his life. Life continues peacefully, Jiang Cheng keeps kidnapping JZX’s advisor because he misses him. Meng Yao knows how to control literally every single great sect but he’s busy chasing down his nephews and helping Jiang Cheng avoid marriage offers to do anything.
Once Jin Guangshan died, LXC and MY both swooped in to have the Wen Remnants moved somewhere else to ‘civilize’ them (using LXC’s own words here) and WWX is very much caught between Jiang Cheng and Lan Wangji arguing over who he’s going home with and he’s honestly never felt more Loved TM. WWX spends six months to break the rest of the tiger rally under the grumpy/watchful eye of NMJ who still isn’t happy anyone from the Wen’s is still alive but he’s weak to puppy eyes and also when he’s being strong armed by his sworn brothers, MY, and NHS (though he still keeps an eye on the actual cultivators, he’s pretty much forgotten the rest of the Wen Remnants exist he just cares about the ones who know how to use a sword). Wangxian happens, idk how I’m voting for a wild Jingyi another orphan decides that he wants to meet the Purple Angry Man and body slams into WWX’s legs trying to get to the Purple man and LWJ catches him and it’s a full on romantic moment of staring into each other’s eyes while Jiang Cheng makes disgusted noises and Meng Yao pats his hand and just tells him to accept it.
Or Meng Yao stays in Lotus Pier because Jiang Cheng has problems and Meng Yao loves a messy loudmouth aggressive bitch with a secret heart of gold. Also Jiang Cheng is the exact kind of Demi-aroace dummy to not realize Meng Yao has a crush on LXC and keeps sending him over to Cloud Recesses to help with trade or something and MY gets to hang out with his crush constantly.
MY is Jiang Cheng’s personal advisor since WWX is currently refusing to process his trauma and staying in a very traumatic place. MY does try to help but WWX doesn’t trust him and probably only half trusts him around JC, BUT MY is very good with kids and helps work with JC on how to slip WWX supplies while negotiating directly with Nie and Lan without Jin glaring over him this time, and Jin Zixuan is more than happy to help when he can because again he’s just like the only one with modern morals and wants Lotus Pier to be strong since if all the sects fall then well the fucking demons/ghosts they hunt will eat them. So WWX is slowly atleast not ready to kill him, Meng Yao finds out WWX already destroyed half the Tiger Tally and tries to get him to let NMJ and LXC help him destroy it further (because that ties the three sects closer and so WWX won’t just stab someone if someone isn’t happy about the Wen’s existing)
Yanli poisons Jin Guangshan again because I think that’s the best way for him to go, Meng Yao does grieve but also that lasts for three minutes before Jiang Cheng shows up with some children he found in Yunmeng and Meng Yao needs to explain to him again that just because the kid latches on doesn’t mean you can take them home. But with JGS out of the way it’s a lot easier to strong arm NMJ into letting the Lan take the remnants (JC and NMJ still aren’t happy about it but NMJ can’t fight the three other sects and JC is getting his brother back and he’ll take the Wen living if that means WWX is too) and WWX returns to Lotus Pier. The truth of the golden core comes out probably via WWX having a flashback or panic attack or something (or that one theory of Yanli knowing,,,) words happen, WWX storms off to find LWJ.
Meng Yao wonders why he likes messy cry babies but still helps out Jiang Cheng because they’re technically brother in laws and also because he really does care about him. Wangxian happens and now Jiang Cheng is really pissed but WWX also said he wasn’t going to just up and leave so they’re on a rotating system but honestly everyone’s just waiting for them to move permanently to Lotus Pier because Lan Wangji has this giant hole in his heart for kids who love Wei Wuxian and Lotus Pier is filled with kids who are Jiang and therefore are insane ans love WWX.
Personally I think this one is the least likely but it sounds very nice right?
59 notes · View notes
luvknow · 4 years
Text
anything for you | lee felix
genre: rich kid!felix x reader | rich kid au ; friends-to-lovers au ; food ; swearing warning ; alcohol warning ; drinking and driving warning ; abuse warning summary: felix’s family owns the largest restaurant franchise in the country and your family works under them. you two have spent your entire lives together and somehow you’ve turned into mini versions of your parents with a boss and secretary type relationship. it wasn’t until last year on his birthday when he tells you he loves you while drunk that your friendship dynamic dramatically changes, and it’s not for the better when he pretends it never happened. wc: 11.2k
You and Felix were two peas in a pod.
From the moment you two were born until your last months at university, you were tied in this relationship for life. Were you two dating? No, of course not! Were you two friends? Well…
Your friendship with Felix was complicated because it was kind of… bought. There was no way to put it lightly, that was simply the origin of your relationship. It all started when Felix’s rich ass CEO of a Dad hired your Dad to be his right hand man in all decision-making aspects of the company he ran. You thought of your Dad as a Chancellor to the King, which I mean was still a high position in the company, but your peers around you thought otherwise.
You attended all the same schools as Felix (thanks to his Dad’s connections), attended the same after school activities (also thanks to his Dad), and even attended the same overseas summer camps (thanks to his Dad who owned the plane that flew everyone). Even then, after being on the same level as Felix for over twenty years, everyone saw you as Felix’s Secretary who waited on his every word. As a kid, your Dad was transparent about how all the privileges you had were all because of Felix and his family and that you should always treat them with respect. And as an impressionable kid, of course you took that a little too literal.
Your Secretary title started in Pre-School when Felix was crying because he forgot his toy to take a nap with at home, so you offered yours. Those small, kind gestures turned into getting him drinks and snacks whenever he wanted, to tutoring him in subjects he had trouble with, to completing essays he didn’t want to complete, and you did it all without ever complaining.
So despite receiving all the same opportunities as all the other inheritance-dependent kids, you were the bottom-feeder of your entire grade.
“_____ ~” Felix whined while entering your apartment. “I’m hungry.”
You exited your bedroom fixing the last couple buttons on your dress shirt. You’re not surprised to see him in the least, as you’re used to him coming in whenever he pleased since he owned the other copy of the apartment keys. “I have food in the fridge.”
“I don’t want a huge meal before the shareholders meeting.”
“You know where the snacks are, what are you waiting for?”
“I just wanted to ask just in case.”
The excited boy wasted no time invading your pantry and grabbing a handful of fruit snack packets, some he stuffed in his dress pants pockets and some he immediately tore open. He made himself home by flopping on your couch, also known as his second bed, and scrolled through his rotation of dating apps while waiting for his dear friend to finish getting ready.
“Don’t lie down like that!” you nagged. “Your pants are going to get all wrinkly!”
Rolling his eyes, Felix sat up straight, to which you immediately fixed random strands of hair  that strayed away from the rest of his slick-back style.
“What are you, my mom?” he mumbled, swatting away your hands.
“Don’t you know how important this meeting is? We could land our internships today.”
“Do you really think I need to worry about that?”
“I guess not… You don’t even want to try out another company for a semester? Scope out your partners?”
“That’s exactly why I shouldn’t be doing that. I’ll look so shady! You probably shouldn’t be thinking about doing that either.”
A small pout emerges from your lips. As much as you owe the Lees and their company your life, you’d like to think the possibility of freeing yourself from their financial shackles was high, even if it was for just one semester. But Felix was right - in order to avoid any spying controversies, it was probably best to not even think about another company. Basically, you were trapped with this company for life.
“Ready to go?” Felix broke the silence. He was the first to leave your couch and head for the door without even bothering to wait for you to catch up.
When you finished locking your front door, you caught Felix looking at your business casual outfit a little too closely. If you weren’t so quick with your reflexes, you would have bumped right into his oddly bulging chest (has he been working out lately?). Still, his foxy eyes scanned you up and down, slowly and intimately.
“Wh-What are you doing…?” you asked nervously. “Is my outfit too bland? It’s ugly, isn’t it? I can’t really glam up for a business meeting, you know.”
“Chill, why are you being hella defensive right now?” he teased. “No, you look good. Honest. Good enough to stand next to me, at least. I wouldn’t stand next to Father if I were you.”
“Thanks, I think.”
“You kind of fit that secretary stereotype you like so much. Especially since you’ll be following me around all day.”
“I do not!”
“Yeah, ok,” Felix tossed you the keys to his expensive black sports car, to which you were also covered as a driver by his insurance. For someone who owns several expensive cars, he sure hates driving them. “Shotty.”
“There’s only two of us…”
The car ride was mostly silent other than the deafening rap music that blared through the subwoofers. Felix could tell you were nervous depending on how talkative you were. If you were blabbering on about how you looked or something arbitrary for at least fifteen minutes, you were probably nervous about a date or maybe a quiz that was coming up in class. If you were silent, he knew that the matter was much more serious. Silence meant that you believed no matter what you did to change yourself or improve upon past mistakes, there was no hope and that whatever was coming was absolute.
“Don’t worry about today,” he reassured after reading your mind. “It’s not like you’re talking in front of hundreds of people at the meeting.”
“Easy for you to say, you’re used to this type of crowd.”
“Are you not? We have class with those good-for-nothing kids of theirs, it’s like the same thing!”
“It is definitely not the same thing! These people have power and they’re smart! The uni is full of idiots who got in with bribes!”
“And you don’t think our shareholders do their fair share of bribing?”
“Of course they do, and that’s what makes them even more terrifying, Felix! They have that kind of power to either buy my entire life or buy out and make sure I never see anyone’s faces again!”
“You say it like you haven’t been shackled to me for over twenty years.”
“That’s different ok, I was a commodity, I couldn’t change anything as a fetus.”
“And now you think you can?”
“I mean, I’d like to think so. Am I crazy?”
“No, not at all.” Gingerly, Felix patted your head like a little kid. “You’ll be just fine ~ I can even introduce you to the ones you want to talk to if you’d like.”
“That’s ok. I’d like to try on my own.”
He understood completely. How he wished he could have that little bit of freedom… To even think about leaving the company behind to work for someone else was blasphemous.
The shareholders meeting was a social event like no other - like, it might as well be a ball with all the people attending and all the press surrounding and being in the building. You pulled up to the normal valet guy who only chuckled at your shocked expression. Felix, on the other hand, wasn’t all that surprised and was rather annoyed at how something as simple as a meeting was getting this much attention.
After dodging all of the press and making it through several thresholds to reach the conference room, you helped Felix prepare for his opening speech.
“You seem more nervous than me,” Felix teased while you quickly smoothed out the wrinkles in his jacket.
“I'm nervous all the damn time.”
“Well, can you quit it before I start sweating? This outfit was expensive. Do you have my speech?”
Searching through your trusty bottomless bag that held everything from tips from your part-time at the cafe to snacks in case Felix got whiny, you pulled out a medium-sized notepad with his opening speech written on it.
“Really, _____? Hand written?”
“My sentences sound better when I write them down instead of typing it!”
“At least it’s legible.” Felix’s Dad announced over the microphone on stage that the meeting will begin shortly. He saw the both of you standing off to the side and waved happily, to which you both could only wave back. The boy in front of you sighed, and it’s the first time today he seemed only slightly nervous. He turned to you. “How do I look?”
How did the most handsome boy you’ve come to know look this morning? Dressed in navy with a white button-down, ears bejeweled and shining in the bright lights, his eyes and his smile sly and foxy, so of course to you he was the only one in the room who you had your eyes on because no one else could ever compare. That’s how it’s always been. 
Gentle fingers startled Felix, only for him to realize you were fixing his monogrammed silver tie clip. “You look just fine.”
“‘Just fine’? Not the sexiest man in the entire world?”
“I’d hardly call you a man…”
“Welcome to the YONGBOK Inc. Shareholders Meeting,” greeted your Father while on stage. Felix noticeably cringed at the sound of his birth name slash company name. “We will begin this meeting with an opening remark from Mr. Lee’s son, Felix.”
“Go get ‘em, Tiger,” you whispered with two thumbs up.
A loud round of applause erupted from the audience filled with press and shareholders. Lee Felix was named one of the most influential people under twenty-five this year and has consistently landed spots on Forbes’ 30 Under 30 list so yes, Felix was always highly anticipated as a guest to fashion shows and charity balls and even more so as a speaker for his future company. Though it was only less than a minute ago he was jittery with nerves, the second he stepped on stage in front of the podium, it was as if he was born to be a public speaker.
“Good morning, honored guests,” he began in his deep voice that startled unfamiliar guests..
His speech - your speech - wasn’t that long, since it was a simple welcome to all the rich people who gave the Lee’s their money. Regardless of its length, Felix somehow drifted his gaze towards the right where you stood. You, who always stood by him and was his friend through everything, stood at the sidelines giving him your unwavering support, even through this minor milestone. Despite this huge corporate building being the last place you want to be, still, you were here by his side.
In your eyes though, it looked like maybe his stage fright was worse than you expected, so you gave him two thumbs up again for reassurance. You couldn’t really tell what he was thinking because he seemed totally fine, in fact his execution was quite flawless, it was just… Why wouldn’t he look into the cameras? The stage lights that shined on him showcased the bright grin he gave when he saw how confused you looked.
“We will continue to work hard together so that YONGBOK will continue being the best restaurant franchise in the country,” was the motto of the company and how Felix ended the speech. With a deep bow and a wink for fan service, he exited the stage.
He fell into your arms clutching his heart. “Ugh, that was so scary!”
“You did fine,” you mumbled, quickly pushing him off before any cameras caught you. Still, he swung an arm around your shoulders unapologetically.
“All right, let’s ditch this popsicle stand.”
“You know we can’t do that or our Fathers will kill us.”
“You think I haven’t died and resurrected like a rising phoenix dozens of times?”
“Leave if you want, it’s your suicide.”
“You won’t come with me?” the handsome boy pouted.
“I’m not actually your secretary, you know.”
“I know, but I’ll be so lonely… Did you at least bring a snack?”
Felix decided to stay when he realized you weren’t kidding about wanting to sit through the entire meeting. Your right ear was focused on all the questions shareholders and the press had while your left ear focused on the child you were babysitting playing with the chocolate bar wrapper. Eventually the conflicting sounds merged into one when the lack of caffeine in your veins made it hard to concentrate for long hours.
“Bet you wished you left with me a couple hours ago, huh?” Felix teased once everything was over.
“Whatever. The important thing is that it’s over now.”
“Are you going to go talk with some of the shareholders?”
That was the original plan - to land an internship at a different company and slowly but surely escape the bubble that is the Lees’ world, but what was the use of making life harder on yourself if you’ll just be seen as a spy? What was the use in anything anymore when your life was determined the moment you came out of the womb?
You shook your head tiredly. “Nah, I think I’ll save that for another time.”
Felix linked his arm with yours like you were the gentleman and he was the lady. The warmth of another body so close to yours was only familiar when it was his, and you wished your body was unbiased and rejected anything within a five feet radius. “You wanna hang out with me that much?”
“Who said I’m hanging out with you? I’m driving you home.”
“No come on, let’s hang out today! Neither of us have class and when was the last time it was just the two of us?”
By ‘just the two of you’, he meant when was the last time you and him hung out without any business involved? When was the last time you and him had pizza together after a long week of midterms and studying, or the last time he picked you up from your part time at the cafe to have a cup of coffee, or the last time you talked about anything other than being ordered around by the Prince himself?
The answer to that question was last year on his birthday when he got too wasted and you didn’t have the strength to carry him up his multi-story mansion, so instead you carried him up to your humble apartment and let him crash on your bed the whole weekend (insisted upon staying the whole weekend because all the puking made him ‘weak’ and ‘dehydrated’).
Truth be told, you loved Felix’s company, whether it was business or personal. The hesitation was because you wondered if he truly felt the same way, especially since he never spoke about that night on his birthday. That night, a lot was said, but nothing was ever confirmed, so you were left in limbo while Felix managed to live in ignorant bliss.
It was better this way.
“I guess it’s been a while…” you trailed off.
“It’s been forever, love. Can we go to your cafe? I’m really craving the strawberry milk latte thing.”
“Anything for you, Felix ~”
“That’s what I like to hear.”
“Felix,” the haunting voice of his father echoed from behind. “Come here for a second -”
“That’s our cue!” The wild blond took you by the hand and sprinted out the conference room doors before his dad could catch him.
As if already predicting the time of events for the shareholders meeting, the valet already had the sports call pulled up and tossed you the keys for maximum efficiency.
“Hey, you’re hand-eye coordination is getting better!” Felix teased while hopping in the front seat.
“And your fear for your dad is not.”
“It’s not fear, it’s pure distaste. Completely different.”
The short ride to your cafe was anything but quiet as Felix filled you in on his most recent Tinder match. The story was something along the lines of ‘she was hot, but kind of stupid’, and you weren’t exactly sure what came after that because, well, you didn’t care. Hearing about the guy you were in love with slash your childhood friend slash the guy whose family bought out your family’s current dating app situation wasn’t exactly the most ideal setting, but hey, it beats sitting in that conference room for any longer.
The cafe was surprisingly not as busy around lunch time, even though it was Friday. Other than a few customers, the only other person in the cafe was your coworker Wooyoung who was busy dramatically singing to whatever drama OST was playing over the intercom.
“Are you making it?” Felix asked, referring to his strawberry latte.
“I wasn’t planning on it since I’m not working.”
“... Can you?”
“Are you serious!?”
“The last time someone other than you made my drinks, they tasted watery!”
He wasn’t wrong - a lot of the baristas here were a bit lazy with the job. You and Wooyoung were among the very few who genuinely cared for the cafe, the menu, and its customers. You supposed you could take a moment to step away from Felix - you sort of missed the barista behind the counter, anyways.
“Sit tight,” you told Felix, who obeyed happily at his favorite table.
Wooyoung with his cutesy cheeky grin chucked one of the ugly brown work aprons right at your face, to which you only whipped right back.
“I’m not working and you know that!”
“Can’t a guy dream to have the same shift with his favorite coworker? What are you doing here then?”
“Making a strawberry latte.”
“For yourself or for His Highness over there?”
“Do you even have to ask?”
Wooyoung knew all too well what your relationship was like with Felix and that was because he was also one of the elite, also known as a trust fund son. Wooyoung and Felix were from the same side of a coin, reigning from families whose net worth could buy out entire towns. The circle of the elite had a lot of members, but it was tight-knit, so everyone knew everything about everyone else. You were included in Felix’s dossier.
“You know, _____, you are your own person,” Wooyoung tisked as he hovered over you making the fruity drink. It was as simple as pouring milk over some strawberry compote (Felix liked it when there was extra compote) and shaking vigorously.
“You telling me that whenever I come in with him totally makes it more valid than the last time.”
“You know I’m just looking out for you.” His soft fingers gently pinched your cheeks. “You’re so sour today, I kind of like it.”
“Aren’t you known for liking people who have zero interest in you?”
“Exactly, so you better watch your attitude or I’ll steal you away from Mr. Lee Felix ~”
“You’re so weird!” Even so, Wooyoung stole a kiss on your bruised cheek before helping the customer at the counter. The aftermath left your face burning up, even though you were used to his flirtatiousness by now.
Of course Felix saw the entire interaction. Though he tried to hide behind his phone, he made sure to still have a view of whatever you and that spoiled ‘I-own-a-yacht’ Wooyoung were doing. You were much different around him than you were with that cheeky bastard behind the counter. With Felix, you were strict, quiet, and pouty, but with Wooyoung you were able to smile more and joke around and even laugh when you flicked whipped cream in his hair. In those short five minutes, that was a type of you he hasn’t been able to see since high school.
But now? You were so cold and distant. He could barely hang out with you without it seeming like it was some business meeting. What changed?
Felix watched you walk back to him holding his pink drink with your cheeks to match its color.
“I didn’t know you two were so close,” he said bitterly after you both exited the cafe.
“We work together, of course we’re close. You’re welcome, by the way.”
You’ll take his happy humming as he inhaled the latte as a thank you. “You talk about how much you hate some of your coworkers all the time!”
“I guess I do… but he’s different.”
“Of course he is…”
The handsome and pouty boy beside you did his best to ignore your accusing glare. “Do you have some beef with him, or something.”
“No,” he said simply in between gulps. “I just don’t like him.”
“You don’t like any boy I talk to.”
“Exactly.”
“So what happens when I really like someone? Do they need your ‘Lee Seal of Approval’?”
“Yup.”
You sighed heavily. “Why do you enjoy making my life so hard?”
“Because I love you, that’s why!”
You couldn’t count on all your fingers and toes how many times Felix has said ‘I love you’ since his birthday party. With his special day coming up again, the words hit harder than usual, even when you knew he was joking, but no ‘I love you’ hurt more than the first time he said it last year before he passed out on your bed.
Speaking of which, “Sooo ~ Guess what next week is ~?” Felix sang cheekily after hopping in the car.
“Uh, midterms week?”
“No ~”
“Buy one get one free soju at the karaoke place?”
“No…”
“Oh wait, isn’t it Han’s birthday next week?” He knew you were trying to push his buttons, but it clearly worked by the way he was glaring at you. “Yeah, that must be it.”
“So mean…”
“Are you two throwing a joint party again?”
“Yeah, but I think we’re skipping the club scene and throwing it at his house instead.”
“Wow, the Lee Felix is tired of the club scene?” you scoffed. “Never thought I would see the day.”
“Maybe it’s just my eyesight getting worse - I’d like to see who I’m hitting on for once.” One sharp stab in your heart. “Will you help me plan?”
Did you really have any other choice? “Of course.”
“Yes ~ This’ll totally top last year’s party!”
You sure hoped so, and you hoped you wouldn’t remember a single moment of it.
--
Planning for the party didn’t start until a couple days before the big date. Since Jisung was hosting, it was Felix’s responsibility to come up with all the decor and the theme and literally all the smaller bits and pieces of the party.
“Honey, I’m home ~” Felix sang as he walked into your apartment. An aroma of fresh spices and cooked meat and roasted vegetables hit his nose upon entering. “Whoa, are you cooking!?”
“We can’t plan on an empty stomach,” you stated the obvious. Immediately, a bowl of rice and the fixings was handed to the grinning boy.
“I love it when you cook. I haven’t eaten your cooking in a while.”
“I didn’t know you liked my cooking,” you blushed. “I haven’t cooked for you that often.”
“It’s because we’re both always so busy or we just eat the restaurant’s food when we’re lazy.” A happy hum came from his lips. “You have a mad talent for this, you know.”
“Do I?”
“Of course! The Boy with the God Tongue himself said so!” Being the future heir of the country’s largest restaurant franchise meant ridiculous chef-related nicknames, to which Felix enjoyed whole-heartedly. “You know this means I’m never going to let you leave YONGBOK.”
“Can you stop, you’re so embarrassing, it’s not that amazing!”
“You stop! Quit undermining your talents.”
“If it’s so good, what do you like about it?”
“For one, there’s tons of balance between the flavors. It’s also not as salty, which is what some of the chefs in some locations are having trouble with lately. But the best part is that it feels like home when I eat your cooking.”
“Like home? Like… as if your in-house chef was cooking it?”
Felix chuckled cutely. “No, I mean it feels like someone who loves me very much made this with lots of care.”
You’re too stunned to say anything right away. It felt as if Felix caught you in his trap and was forcing you to admit something that he knew from the very start. But now was not the time nor was it the place. As a response, you turned away and chugged the rest of your glass of water.
“Right,” you cleared your throat awkwardly. “G-Glad you liked it.”
Felix wondered why you wouldn’t look at him. “S-So, let’s get started?”
You took a bowl of food for yourself and refilled Felix’s before settling down at the table. “Do you have an idea for a theme?”
“Ok, hear me out - casino themed?”
“Isn't that underage gambling? Sounds super illegal to me.”
“Right, right… Ok, how about, uh, a masquerade?”
“Not bad, but a little cliche, no?”
“But it’s so sexy! Classy clothes, bejeweled masks -”
“Choreographed waltzing?”
“Yes! For the first half of course, then we’ll probably bump the real shit after a couple of drinks.”
“Hm, I actually like that.” You entered the theme into your notes. “Cool, we have a theme down. Now for all the decoration…”
That itself took about an hour. Imagine, talking about banners and balloon arches, and personalized masks for a whole hour with the most indecisive human being alive. How he’s expected to make major decisions for a multi-million dollar company one day, you’ll never know.
“Ugh,” you were over it, at least for another hour. You couldn’t take comparing different shades of gold and different grades of champagne anymore. Your couch was supposed to be your safe space away from Felix, but he followed you like a puppy and laid his head on your lap.
“This weekend is going to be so much fun! Did you get me a gift yet ~?”
“Uh, maybe…”
“What is it?”
“It’s a surprise, silly.”
“Can I at least get a hint?”
“Probably the cheapest gift you’ll get.”
“Hey.” Felix silenced any doubt you had about your gift by taking one of your hands in his and holding it over his chest. He closed his eyes, tired from the day, tired by your constant doubts, tired of it all. “You know I don’t care about that kind of stuff when it comes to you.”
“I know, but I do.”
“Well, don’t. My favorite gifts have always been from you.”
“Even more than the diamond chain from Chan?”
“... Your gifts are my favorite after that one.” Your free hand poked his freckled cheek, causing him to laugh and smile brighter than the sun. Lying here with you made him happy. “I miss hanging out with you like this.”
“We hang out all the time!”
“Not like this. We never just chill out together and not worry about anything. We’re always worrying about something, especially since we started uni.”
“Uni sort of defines our future, so of course there’s tons to worry about.”
“Not for me. My life has been predetermined. If you think about it, uni doesn’t define your future, either.”
“I wish you didn’t tell me that,” you groaned. “You’re so right. What’s the point when the two of us are just going to take over our Father’s positions, anyways!?”
“Does our future together sound that miserable to you?” he teased. You wished he didn’t word it that way.
“Not miserable, but doesn’t it suck that we don’t have that sort of freedom? You and I have had our lives predetermined since birth!”
“Perhaps it was fate that you would be my Chancellor and I would be your King,” Felix snickered.
“Call it whatever you want, but where’s the joy we could get from spontaneity and disorder?”
“Good point. But I think you and I will find that joy just fine.”
“You think so?”
“Mhm. Life will always be a joy if I’m with you.” A tired smile spread across his lips. “You and I make a disorderly pair.”
You and him were definitely a disorderly pair. It was like you two were in a modern-day forbidden friendship that was only seen in royal fairy tales. Felix was the Prince, the apple of everyone’s eye, the boy with the highest ranking just below the King. You were the lowly common person who devoted their life to the castle and serving the royal family. Somehow, even with the drastic gap between your social classes, you both found each other and became inseparable. 
Through childhood, adolescence, and young adulthood, the time spent together naturally formed your feelings for Felix to nothing less than love. You were the number one witness of seeing him laugh, smile, cry, and scream through all his happiness, sadness, and anger. You were the only one who knew the exact number of freckles that dusted his cheeks. You knew what specific snacks he wanted for certain craving occasions, his favorite orders at every restaurant, how he liked his instant ramen (with egg, American cheese, and green onions), and especially his cafe drink orders. When they say the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach, you supposed that was especially true for Felix.
After over twenty whole years together, how the fuck were you supposed to avoid falling in love? How were you supposed to look at Felix and feel with your whole chest that you were not madly in love with his beautiful face and his kind heart? When Felix told you he loved you with slurred words on his birthday last year, how were you supposed to let that go and live on like you didn’t cry in the shower for a whole month afterwards?
You put the blame for the disorder in this messed-up friendship all on Felix, but you couldn’t help but clean it up and do your best to keep it together. So when he forgot he said those magic words, you did your best to forget them, too, but the best you could do was bury the memory away and cover it up with work and school. It wasn’t the most ideal way to deal with the issue, you knew that, but the important part was that it was working even if it was just a little bit.
Felix was the first to wake up the next morning. You didn’t move a single muscle and ended up sleeping upright since he used you as a pillow. Still, your hand was in his and the other tangled in his messy blond hair and truly, being here with you was the only place that felt like home.
--
The day of the party was filled with chaos on your end, as you had to wake up at 6:00 am just to make it to Jisung’s pool house in time to set up the decorations for the joint birthday party. You ended up directing all the crews to where the cocktail tables needed to be set up, where the instagram photobooth should go, and where the Michelin-star chefs were going to set up for dinner. The most important part was the dance floor, which would be clean with nothing but some shoe scuffs for the first couple of hours and probably stained with different colors of liquor by the end of the night.
By noon you were totally wiped out having a stomach full of only coffee and a granola bar. The worst part was that you didn’t get a chance to buy a mask yet and would probably have to settle for some cheap recycled paper with sequins and feathers glued on it from the birthday party store down the block.
But as if the Gods’ translated your feelings telepathically to Felix, your Prince in shining armor came to the rescue with a sandwich, more coffee, and something in a matte black gift bag. The gesture, though small, made your cheeks burn the brightest of pinks. It was your first time seeing and talking with Felix since he left the comfort of your lap a couple of nights ago. Although you were unsure of yourself (as with any situation, am I right?), the Prince didn’t seem so phased.
“I figured you could use a pick-me-up,” he grinned brightly, handing you all the goods.
“You are a blessing,” you sighed, chugging the iced coffee. “What’s in the black bag?”
“It’s a surprise. Open it.”
“I thought today was your birthday?”
“It’s nothing big, I promise!”
You shot him a skeptical look, but opened up the gift regardless. Inside was an intricately bejeweled mask for tonight, colored perfectly to match your outfit.
“I went to your apartment because I thought you’d be there,” Felix began shyly. “I went to your room and saw your entire outfit laid out, but no mask, so I figured you didn’t have one yet. I bought one to match your outfit and to match mine! Mine looks exactly like that, but black.”
“You really didn’t have to,” you pouted, though staring at the shiny jewels adoringly. It was gorgeous and you never thought in your lifetime you could own anything so glamorous. The gesture lifted an extremely loaded weight off your shoulders and you couldn’t help but hug the birthday boy as a thank you. “You’re the best, thank you.”
“Anything for you, love.”
“Also, please stop going into my bedroom.”
“What, afraid I’m going to raid your panties?”
“Yes.”
“That’s fair.”
Felix spent the rest of the day helping you make the pool house perfect since it was also technically his job as the co-host. Holding the ladder while you hung up crystal decor was reminiscent of past Christmas parties that his family hosted. Your two families would come together and prepare the cookies, the eggnog, and the presents for the whole morning before the big party that started around dinner time, and you and Felix were in charge of the Christmas tree. He’s not too big on heights, so he always made you hang the ornaments on the top layer. It was a very adult networking and old people gambling games type of party, so you and Felix would always sneak off into his basement and play video games or watch corny movies with a stolen tray of sugar cookies.
The Christmas before uni was probably the last one where you two felt like kids and didn’t have to worry about what kinds of feelings would get in the way of your beautiful friendship.
“Ugh, my calves are burning,” you whined on your way down from the ladder. Your legs gave out on the second step down and the weight of your tired body pulled you down, causing you to drop to your death from a mere five feet above.
Luckily, your Prince had quick reflexes and caught you bridal style. As kids, it was surprising when Felix could carry anything even half his weight with his twiggy arms, but the fact that he could hold you without struggling or even breaking a sweat was the closest you’ve ever experienced a miracle.
A gentle, handsome smile came from his lips. “You ok?” he asked in his deep voice.
No, you’re definitely not, but lying was ok in this situation. “F-F-Fine! I am fine!”
“Are you sure?”
“Y-Yes! Uh, you can put me down now…!”
“Hm, but I kind of like holding you like this.” You hit his rock-hard chest lightly, to which he recoiled dramatically before placing you down gently. “Is that how you thank your hero!?”
“Thank you, My Hero.”
“That’s more like it.”
It wasn’t until around dinner time when you left Felix alone to be in charge of guiding all the caterers to their cooking spots while you sped home to get ready as fast as you could. You didn’t want to leave Felix in charge for more than an hour, otherwise there would be more room for error.
You must have had such little faith in him because he did as was told without any issues and was done well before the party was going to start. He took the down time to put on his satin black suit and fix his blond hair before putting on the matching mask. While looking in the floor-to-ceiling mirror, of course he admitted to himself that he would be the sexiest one at the party, but something about the view didn’t seem right. He didn’t have you beside him hyping him up like always. The view in the mirror was lonely without you.
“Good job with the chefs!” you called into the dressing room unannounced.
Felix could see you jogging in wearing the full outfit he saw on your bed this morning, now complete with the mask he gifted you in the reflection of the mirror. The view of you was stunning, so much to the point that the Prince himself was too afraid to turn around and look at you with his own eyes. You reminded him of the story of Medusa, who would turn men into stone if they dared to look at you, and Felix thought that he was well past that point, already frozen in place with his jaw dropped and hands fixated on his crooked tie.
Luckily, you didn’t seem to notice as you stepped in between him and the mirror. The feel of your knuckles brushing up against his chest broke him free of his frozen state, causing him to hitch his breath in his throat. It was very un-Felix-like to be this nervous, especially before an event that circled around him, but perhaps it was his sobriety that made him jittery.
“You good?” you reciprocated after a long moment of silence.
Prince Felix cleared his throat before speaking. “Yeah.”
“Nervous?”
“I guess so.”
“What do you have to be nervous about other than being the center of attention in front of hundreds of people?” you teased lightly.
“It’s not like I know everyone, though.”
“What do you mean? You and Han invited all the people you normally party with.”
“Yeah, but it’s not like I’m friends with all of them. I don’t hang out with them before 10:00 pm.”
Even behind the mask, you could tell his nerves were sincere. “Are you having regrets about this party?”
“I wouldn’t say regrets… I don’t know. I’m sorry, I know you put a lot of work into this.”
“Do you not want to go -”
“No! No, I want to go.” To ditch a party you worked on for forty-eight hours would be like slapping you in the face and he knew that. But he also knew if he said yes, you would follow him wherever he’d go in a heartbeat because that’s how much you loved him. He cleared his throat once more. “Will you stay with me?”
You raised a brow, unsure if you heard correctly. “Stay with you?”
“As in, will you stay by my side tonight?”
“You want me by your side the whole night?” Oh, how the tables have turned, in which Felix with his blushing cheeks couldn’t look you in the eyes as he nodded shyly. It was hard to believe what you were seeing with your own eyes and you wondered if you were dreaming. “Ok.”
“Really?”
Softly, you straightened his mask. “Anything for you, birthday boy.”
The anxiety from the claustrophobia of the party was replaced with the thought of being with you the whole night, but this is how he’d rather be. No longer did he want to stay in this room he filled with bad energy, so he took you by the hand and led you back to the main room where guests quickly filled in. Anxiety filled his chest again and you felt it through his hand squeezing yours tightly, as if afraid you would let go and slip away into the crowd where he’d never see you for the rest of the night. You’re not sure what’s gotten into him and you didn’t want to make it worse, so you led him to the tables of food hoping he could fill the emptiness in hopes of loosening up a little.
Even while eating food, Felix refused to let go of your hand, so you had to act as his free hand and feed him gourmet finger foods.
“You’re even more of a baby on your birthday,” you scoffed.
“But you love babying me, right?” he teased.
“I don’t know if ‘love’ is the right answer…”
The beginning of the night was nothing short of energy-draining as every single guest came up to greet Felix on his birthday and greeted you second. It was crazy that even in a room full of hundreds of peers, the crowd was still able to distinguish the birthday boys from everyone else, but you supposed it was easy because who else was blond and this handsome? The same way you looked at Felix, everyone else also had their eyes on him because he was truly that stunning in a crowded room.
It was occasions like these when you felt most out of place. You only ‘belonged’ here because Felix was your ticket in, but you would never become one of the elite. You didn’t have all the luxury of buying a new outfit or new jewels for every occasion like everyone else here. You were a simple person in your humble apartment living your predetermined life and getting by without any conflict, all thanks to him. That was what made you believe for twenty years that you had no right to fall for Felix the way you did - you were nothing more than the King’s hired Chancellor.
Even so, when the whole room was looking at him, he only looked at you.
The next song was a common waltz song that was played at every masquerade party on the planet. With a hop in his step, you found the birthday boy in front of you bowing with his hand still in yours.
“Will you dance with me?” he asked dramatically like he was playing a character.
“Why, of course, Your Highness.”
Waltz dancing was definitely not the first talent you’d think of while wondering what Felix was good at, but to your surprise, it was like he’d been taking classes for years. You knew little-to-nothing about it yourself, but it was easier when your date took the lead and you didn’t have to think, just follow. It was a ride, honestly, and you couldn’t stop yourself from giggling, even when the dance finished with Felix dipping you, faces close and noses barely touching.
You hardly noticed his eyes shift to your lips in the midst of all the giggles. “When did you learn to do that!?”
“Last night,” he admitted sheepishly. “Are you impressed?”
“Very.”
“Then those three hours of Youtube tutorials were worth it.”
Your predicted cycle of food, dancing, alcohol, and back to food was correct. Several rounds lasted several hours to the point where you were at the perfect amount of tipsy, but still able to navigate, although if any more rounds of alcohol were going to happen, you might be in trouble. Keeping up with the birthday boy was so hard!
But you didn’t mind, because the poison made you forget about how much you didn’t belong there and swept any overreaction to Felix’s affection under the rug, though it was getting harder to do the latter, as each shot meant closing the distance between you and him. Somehow, you went from holding his hand to his hand never leaving your waste, with your bodies keeping close contact, a feeling you’ve always been familiar with even when sober, but this time was different.
“So,” he began in the middle of the dance floor. “When do I get my gift?”
“How about after your birthday cake?”
“Birthday cake?”
On cue, the lights dimmed and the music stopped. Jisung found his way next to Felix and all the chefs rolled out a giant tiered cake with candles on it, cueing all the guests to sing happy birthday. You made sure to keep the design simple, but the flavors immaculate and matching the boys’ palates because that was the most important part. Even from afar, you could smell the chocolate.
You tried to step away from him so that he and Jisung could have the spotlight together, but even then he didn’t want you to leave. He squeezed your side a little tighter, a silent gesture that said, ‘please don’t go.’
By now, you were starting to sober up a bit and that was a bad sign because now you were realizing that this whole night would be forgotten tomorrow, just like last year. Still, you stayed by his side because that’s what he wanted.
Why it had to be you, you’ll never know, but the feeling was too right to question it.
At the end of the song, the birthday boys blew out the candles and the cheers deafened your ear drums. What shocked you next was the feeling of soft lips on your cheek.
“Thank you,” Felix whispered with so much adoration. “For everything.”
You’ll never be able to recover from tonight. “Why are you like this all of a sudden? Have you had too much to drink?”
A cute giggle escaped his lips. “No, I’m fine. This day feels extra special, that’s all. You’re the reason.”
Felix was such a smooth honey talker when there was a little something swimming in his bloodstream. You should know better not to take these words to heart, but you can’t help it when they’ve all you’ve ever wanted to hear. A repeat of last year was bound to happen any second.
You did your best to avoid the compliment. “Do you want your gift now?”
“Ooh, yes!”
The gift was hidden in the room you find him in earlier today. You were too embarrassed to set it up next to the gift table that was dressed in bags with brands like Cartier and Gucci, so you stashed it away from the rest. The bouncy and excited boy had the widest grin on his face, impatiently waiting for you to present him with what you had.
“Close your eyes,” you demanded.
Felix held out his hands with his eyes closed and expected something small, like a watch or a cupcake or some plush toy that he could strap on his keychain, but instead nearly stumbled forward holding something as heavy as a textbook.
“Ok, open your eyes.”
He wasn’t too far off, actually. In his hands was a thick, heavy book titled “Felix & _____” that you printed out on an embossed label maker. Inside were infinite pages of pictures, stamps, receipts, travel brochures, foreign currency, movie tickets, anything and everything from most if not all the memories you spent together over the past twenty years. The first few pages were filled with old film pictures and polaroids you had to steal from your parents and the later pages progressively got more crowded with trinkets and things when you two were old enough to hang out on your own.
For a while, Felix was silent as he flipped through all the memories. There wasn’t a smile on his face, no tears streaming down his cheeks, in fact he was emotionless and now you were confused. He told you he didn’t care about money or the cost of gifts when it came to you, but…
“You hate it,” you stated rather than asking.
Felix looked up at you, completely sobered up, with the most incredulous expression. “Of course not,” he reassured softly. “I love it. So much. You saved all of this…?”
“I saved every receipt that wasn’t smudged with barbecue sauce or oil and every movie ticket since the start. I had boxes full of it and I didn’t know what to do, but I knew I didn’t have the heart to throw it away, so I made you a scrapbook. It took forever, but luckily your family’s historian captured a lot of the earlier stuff.” Felix was listening, but his eyes were fixated on the last page, where you pasted a single picture of a selfie you two took just a couple days ago. “Happy birthday, Felix.”
Flipping through the scrapbook made him realize that yes, so much has changed between the two of you. There’s so much growth and care and love in between the pages and the fine lines that isn’t seen unless you look for it. As he looked at you, with your cheeks dusted scarlet and wearing your heart on your sleeve, perhaps him pretending he didn’t tell you he loved you last year was what was slowly drifting you away from him, because how were you going to deny to his face that you didn’t love him, too?
Perhaps it was best you would admit it to him on your own time. For now, he hoped a gentle kiss on your forehead would push you a little bit.
His rose petal lips left your forehead tingling. “You’re the best. Thank you.”
When Felix tried to close the gap in between, you took a large step back. You couldn’t look him in his eyes and now he’s confused and his heart hurts.
“Why do you keep doing that?” you asked.
“Doing what?”
“Holding my hand, holding me, kissing me…”
“Oh, I thought you were ok with all of that.”
You take a deep breath. You can’t let last year repeat itself. “You’re wrong.”
“I’m wrong?”
“You can’t just do that whenever you feel like it.”
“Do what!?”
“Play with my feelings!” You took another breath to calm you down and prevent anymore tears that were about to pool. “I have feelings, Felix. You can’t just use me whenever you feel like it and take it all back like it never happened the next morning!”
“I have feelings, too. How the fuck else was I supposed to deal with the night I told you I love you and you didn’t say it back?”
You’re left stunned and speechless. Felix just admitted to you that he once told you he loved you. He didn’t have to say when for you to know that he was talking about the inebriated self on your bed mumbling those three words as you tucked him in on his birthday last year.
“You didn’t say it back and I thought you didn’t feel the same, so I pretended to forget all about it. But now I know you feel the same,” he begged desperately. “I just know. Tell me I’m wrong, _____. Tell me I’m wrong to think that after all these years together, I think you fell in love with me the same way I fell in love with you.”
You couldn’t say anything. You couldn’t admit that he was right because he was drunk then and he’s still a little intoxicated now. But even if he’s right, even though you both knew how much you loved every cell of Felix, what if all this sweet talk was brewed by the mix of drinks that settled in his core? What if he forgets again tomorrow and you’re left in a worse state than you were last year? What if the alcohol just jogged last year’s memory that was stored deep in his cortex that only tequila was able to unlock?
The more you tried to make an excuse for it, the more ridiculous it sounded...
When you didn’t say anything right away, Felix was sure if he had his ribs broken that it would hurt less than the pain he felt in his chest right now. But that wasn’t your fault - nothing was ever your fault. This was all his doing because that’s what Felix did best - screw everything up.
The blond’s once hurt expression turned to stone before he dropped the scrapbook onto the cushioned chair next to his belongings.
“My mistake then,” he muttered before leaving you alone in the room.
“Felix, wait -” but it was too late, he was already out of the room to do something stupid to forget what just happened.
You ran after him, but the party room was so loud and dark and filled to the brim with guests that you couldn’t find him. In a room full of people, you were always able to find Felix no matter what, but it’s like he changed the makeup of the atmosphere to make sure that wouldn’t happen again for the rest of the night. You tried looking for blond locks from high ground, you tried snaking your way on the dance floor, you even checked the private rooms and men’s bathrooms in the whole house and none of them worked. You were afraid that after all the heartbreak, you wouldn’t see him again for a long while.
You bumped into Jisung in an empty hallway, who seemed out of breath like he was running a marathon just now.
“You have to come with me,” he gasped in urgency.
“What happened?”
“It’s Felix. He’s about to race Wooyoung.”
Those five words sounded like a terrible ad-lib in the newspaper, but when you followed Jisung to the front of the pool house, lo and behold half of the guests were gathered around the two boys who looked like they were about to get into a fist fight. In Felix’s hand, you could see that he was holding the keys to his sports car that was already parked out front.
Wooyoung’s the first to see you run to them from the crowd, with Jisung following behind you. “Hey, _____. Can you tell Prince Charming here that I’m not about to race him and go to jail?”
“That’s because you’re a pus -”
Jisung held Wooyoung back before he could get a swing in and you stepped in between. This was the first time you got a good look at his face, which was tear-stained and flushed red, all because of you.
“What are you doing!?” you muttered harshly.
“Trying to understand what you see in this guy. It’s not his looks, or his brains. Can’t be his car either, but I just wanted to prove my prediction just in case.”
His breath smelled like freshly poured alcohol. “Don’t be ridiculous.”
“Am I ridiculous, though? I think I might be onto something when I said there’s something that you see in him.”
“There’s nothing, so can you please give me your keys so we can talk inside?”
“I don’t want to talk to you anymore.”
Ouch. “Ok, we won’t talk. Let’s do something else -”
“I don’t want to do something else with you. I want to race and kick his ass.”
“You want to crash and burn that badly?” Wooyoung screamed over Jisung’s shoulders. “Fine, let’s drive!”
The crowd cheering only boosted Felix’s ego more, so he broke free from your wall and walked towards his car.
“Felix, don’t do this!” you cried out desperately, and for a second you could see the hesitation, but it was easily overcome.
“If you don’t want to be here, then go home. I don’t need you.”
The crowd oohed in unison and your left in the middle of the circle humiliated, watching the boy you loved the most get into his car and prepare to race your coworker. There’s a myriad of scenarios that fly through your mind of what could go wrong and you’re not sure if you should stay for the mess of the aftermath. But Felix said it himself that he didn’t need you, so maybe you should follow his advice and go home.
If something were to happen to him and you weren’t there to pick up the pieces and mend them back together, you would never forgive yourself. Your life’s purpose had always been to help Felix mend his pieces together whenever he needed it. But maybe this was his way of telling you that you were no longer needed for that - that you were free of all your duties as his personal fake secretary and since he thought you didn’t love him back that you served no purpose to him anymore.
When Felix said he didn’t need you, he meant that he didn’t need you to be the person you always were. He didn’t need you to be his babysitter trying to stop him from doing something stupid, he needed you as someone who wanted to stop him because you loved him and was afraid that he’d get hurt. And perhaps it was his mistake for saying it so harshly because you didn’t bother to stop him after that. But it hurt him to his core that you believed him when he said he didn’t need you anymore, that after twenty years you so easily believed that he could cut you out of his life, just like that. How many stupid mistakes could Felix make tonight? He was too far into this that he couldn’t back out, so all he had to do was race and make it out alive to see you again.
From the rear view mirror, he saw your distant figure fade away with the night.
--
It has been a long sixty-eight hours and twenty-four minutes since you arrived home from the birthday party. Hermit crabbing for the first twelves hours was stressful - you couldn’t sleep until 6:00 am, you only slept for a couple hours, you sent mass text messages to multiple people, including Felix, curious about his whereabouts and no one got back to you until twelve hours after that.
han solo [8:43 pm]: sorry darling, i like just woke up. he’s fine i guess.
you [8:44 pm]: what do you mean you ‘guess’!?
han solo [8:44 pm]: i mean they both came out unscathed and his dumbass won so physically he’s fine! but he didn’t seem too happy that he won. i think he’s back home with his parents atm.
That settled your racing heart only a little, but at least you knew he was fine physically, at least. Still, your hundreds of texts sent to him were all left on read, meaning he saw all your desperation and worry and didn’t bother to ease any of it.
You couldn’t eat for those long hours, but now it was getting unbearable and you needed to eat something. You had all the ingredients for Felix’s favorite soup, and as much as you didn’t want to constantly remind yourself of him, you couldn’t help yourself. The process was nice and slow, where you took extra care into washing the vegetables and bringing the broth to a gentle boil before dropping everything in. You could imagine the look on his face if he smelled what you made with your own hands.
Cooking for Felix was a very rare occasion because you were still self conscious about your abilities, especially as someone who was going to work for the country’s largest restaurant franchise. But the times he’s tasted your creations, his reaction was nothing but sincere bliss, cleaning his plate or bowl or several every time. He was the only one who truly believed in your talents and far-off dream when your parents wanted you to follow your Dad’s footsteps. You always cared about what Felix thought about you and your actions and nearly everything, but what he thought about your cooking was one of the most important things and his constant support for your craft was what made you fall for him so much harder than you already did.
The aromas of the soup made you miss him even more. If you didn’t hear back from him today, you were going to take drastic measures and find him yourself.
A quiet, eerie knock came at your door. You hesitated, wondering if you should just pretend you weren’t home, but then a voice spoke up.
“I know you’re home,” Felix said. “I can smell you cooking my favorite soup.”
You dropped your wooden spoon and hurried to open the front door. Behind the door revealed a tired Felix with one bruised up eye and cut up lip. Though the tears quickly fell from your eyes and you covered your gaping mouth, he still gave you a weak smile in hopes of easing any worry you now had.
“I kind of need you,” he admitted softly. “I really need you.”
Speechless, you took Felix by the hand and sat him on your couch before grabbing your massive first aid kit. He’s not surprised that you took him in with open arms without any hesitation because that was the kind of person you were. He loved that about you, but there’s guilt in his heart because he’s the last person who deserves this treatment. He knew you didn’t exactly forgive him yet because you still haven’t said a word, even as you were wetting a cotton swab with isopropyl alcohol.
“Is it going to sting?” he asked. You didn’t bother answering and let him feel the pain for himself. “Motherfucker!”
Through all the cleaning and wincing, though your facial expression didn’t move much, a waterfall of tears fell from your eyes at a constant speed. Since you were kids, Felix’s Dad was big on spanking and physical discipline, but this was a whole different level than you’ve ever seen before - this wasn’t discipline, this was intentional. Even so, Felix still smiled, even through all the stinging.
“Stay still,” you whispered, voice shaking. Your free hand held his face in place by pressing your palm into his nonbruised cheek. The wound still stung, but the wincing at least lessened. When the cotton swab dried up and you weren’t sure what to do, Felix calmed your racing thoughts by placing a hand on top of the one you had on your cheek.
He liked the way your thumb gently brushed across his cheek. Your touch always left tingles in its absence.
“What happened?” you finally asked.
“Dad found out about the racing because it was in the tabloids as ‘Future YONBOK CEO Caught Racing Under the Influence. Is the Future of YONGBOK in Good Hands?’ and, well, you know how that turned out.”
You said nothing while shaking your head. You took your hand back and stood up to get something and the fear of you leaving him again left Felix sweating and tears of his own pooling in his eyes. But you came back with a bag of frozen peas to press against his bruises and swollen lip.
“Are you hungry?” Felix nodded silently. “I made your favorite soup.”
“I know. Did you know that I was coming?”
“No. I guess I’m lucky.”
One of his hands is on top of yours holding the frozen peas and the other grabs hold of your other free hand. Felix wanted to hold you in every way possible, but for now this would have to do until you accepted him.
“You know I love you,” he told you. “And you know I will always need you. I’m sorry I pretended to forget about telling you last year and I’m sorry if that made you think I was insincere the second time. But now you know for sure that I love you. Was I really that wrong to think you felt the same?”
“It seems like you already know my answer.”
“I need to hear you say it.”
You sighed heavily. By now the tears had stopped, but you wouldn’t be surprised if they started up again. This was the first time you would admit aloud that you loved the stupid boy who tried to hide his smile sitting in front of you.
“I love you, Lee Felix. I always have.”
“Knew it ~” he sang. “Tell me when you fell for my handsome looks.”
“Remember Prom night?”
“Prom night!? Seriously?”
“My date standing me up and you offering to dance with me the whole night sounds like the perfect formula to fall in love with you, does it not?”
“I guess! I just thought it’d be longer than that!”
“I’m sure it has been longer than that.”
“Really?”
“Prom night was just the point of no return - that no matter what I did, my feelings were absolute and I couldn’t be in denial anymore. But I didn’t feel any different… And that’s when I assumed I just always loved you.”
“Even when I do stupid shit like this, you still loved me that much, huh?”
“Even with a busted lip, I still think you’re the most handsome.”
“That’s what I like to hear,” he chuckled. “Do you know when I knew?”
“Uh, last year?”
“Nope. On your tenth birthday.”
“You’re kidding.”
“I’m not. When you shared your birthday cake and gave me the corner slice with the most icing flowers on it, I knew you were the one for me.”
“Can you be serious for once!?”
“Baby, I am dead serious! Look me in the eyes - well, my good eye.”
“I hate you.”
“I know.” Felix pressed a long kiss to your forehead and then rested his own up against it. “I’m sorry for worrying you.”
“And being an ass.”
“Yes, and being the biggest ass.”
You dared to kiss his lips, but just enough for them to touch, too worried about hurting his bruise. Felix didn’t care - this was the only time you’d have your first kiss and he wanted it to be long and slow, putting his all into your very first kiss even if it hurt a little. His lips were hungry for yours and so were his hands, making you drop the frozen peas on the floor so he could pull you into his lap to deepen the kiss. Wandering hands traveled your waist and your own in his hair and all your worries about wondering if love was truly real melted away with every second. Even when you broke free to come up for air, Felix refused to loosen his grip on your waist, holding you so close that he buried his face in the nape of your neck. He short breaths tickled your skin and when you giggled, he peppered kisses all over. Your laugh was music to his ears.
“Do you forgive me?” he said in between kisses.
“Mm,” you hummed. “Just don’t leave my side again.”
“Never again. I promise you.”
“Well… Where do we go from here?”
“Hm… I get to eat my favorite soup with the love of my life?”
“I like the sound of that.”
“And then straight to bed.”
“But it’s only 9:00 pm?” A playful, naughty smirk spread across Felix’s lips. “Lee Felix!”
“What!? I won the race, can’t I get a prize!?”
“Stop.”
Soup was always better with your love and a cup of frozen peas.
888 notes · View notes
papergirllife · 3 years
Text
Chapter 3
Tumblr media
Synopsis:
You don’t know what it’s like to be free, to make your own choices, and live your own life. For your whole life, your parents have been treating you like a puppet on strings, controlling your life to every single detail, as well as ignoring the fact that you have feelings. Other times, when you disobey their wishes, or speak up about your own opinions, they bash you down with words, in other words, psychological abuse, has led you down the long winded road of depression and anxiety. What happens when you meet a man who’s willing to be your guide out of this terrible downpour? Would you give a shot at happily ever after?
Warnings:
big age gap (kinda?)
issues on anxiety
issues on depression (mild)
issues on parental abuse
smut (maybe)
Tag List: @etherealtyjaem​ ,  @caratzennie  , @johnnysuhnflower  ,  @euphoricchannie  ,  @yeollieseo  ,  @jjhmk  , @sherzess , @wonderfulkoreanpop​
(lmk if you wanna be on the list)
You’ve been seeing Mr Suh, correction, Johnny, his first name, as per requested by Johnny himself.
“Mr Suh makes me feel older than I already am, you make me feel like a teenager all over again, so you have to call me Johnny. Let me relive my days when I was still a college kid.”
You didn’t mind, things aren’t as awkward between the two of you anymore, Johnny’s been spending time with you, although the two of you never established any sort of labelling towards what this relationship is. You and Johnny only hung out and had meals together, trying out different cuisines, watching movies, even going as far as skipping a day at work to go to the amusement park. He even bought you to an arcade when you told him you haven’t had the chance to venture to one since you were in grade school.
“Why haven’t you ever been to one for so long?” Johnny asked when he finished a round of pinball.
“They said it was a waste of time and that I should spend more time studying,” you said, wondering why Johnny would ask that, isn’t it the same for all the kids?
Whenever you mention your confining life to Johnny, he’d have a faraway look in his eyes, jaw locked in silent rebuke, he doesn’t say anything, he pulls you close, wrapping an arm around your shoulder. He would be quite for almost half an hour before he goes back to regular cheerful Johnny, telling you lame jokes that you would surprisingly find funny.
You didn’t have a phone, since your parents forbid you to have one, the only means of communicating is through your email account on your laptop, and even that you must always bear in mind to delete his mails right after, and take further precaution, you didn’t allow him to initiate the sending.
Johnny wanted to buy you one, but you rejected him promptly, you didn’t want him to spend so much money on you, he already spends lots on taking you out to eat. You gave him the excuse that it was too dangerous, and the consequences of getting caught are severe.
You often questioned your relationship with Johnny, you aren’t dumb, you’ve googled him and saw gossip news portals uploading photos of him and some model going out and about in hotels, but those headlines were months ago, the latest news about him was from his interview with Times magazine.
You never had the guts to ask him, you don’t know what you mean to him. What right do you have to question his whereabouts and what he does? He’ll probably be bored of you after he’s known all of you.
You know you shouldn’t think of Johnny that way, it is mean to assume what he’s thinking, especially how well he’s treating you, but seeing those headlines gives you a sense of insecurity, you keep telling yourself that this won’t last, but the thought of not seeing him again made your hair stand. He’s making you happy, a distraction towards the negativity you face in that house you live in, but for how long?
House. You never called it a home, unless you were telling your boss you were leaving, to prevent anyone from questioning your odd way of describing it. It was never a home to you. To you, a home is a place where you feel happy, safe, and most importantly, loved. The closest you’ve ever felt to having these feelings were your grandma and Joh... No, you don’t love him, and he doesn’t love you. What were you thinking?
You pushed those thoughts away as you opened your laptop to double check the files that you’ve typed out for your parent’s next important meeting that was supposed to be taking place first thing tomorrow. But when you went through your folders, the files were nowhere to be seen. It’s then you realised that the notification that keeps urging you to update the laptop was gone, it wasn’t the first time you updated the laptop and found out some files were missing, so you would never update the laptop at such a crucial time.
You took the laptop out to your father who was watching some news on his phone in the dining area to ask him if he had updated the software without alerting you.
“Yes, I did. What about it?” he asked, annoyance on his face due to the sudden disturbance.
“The files are missing because of the update,” you informed him.
“What files?” 
“The files for tomorrow’s meeting, they’re missing,” you told him as you mentally prepared yourself for what’s to come.
“What do you mean missing?! I bet it was because you saved it wrongly again! Your retarded brain never works does it?! Do you know how important those files are?! You always work on them late at night blurry eyed, of course you didn’t save them properly! You could’ve worked on them in the morning before work. but no... You want to ‘exercise’! What a waste of time!” You’re not pretty anyways, what are you doing them for huh?!” Your father shouted, his eyes blazing in rage, his fist slamming onto the glass.
While your father was shouting, your mother was checking the laptop as she complains about how clueless you are. It was like your brain couldn’t take the amount of hurtful words piercing into your mind like daggers, you let out a high pitched scream as tears threatened to fall, your hands covering your ears as your eyes were a blur.
When you could see properly again, you could make up words which sounded like ‘how dare you’ from your father, next thing you registered were the fury in his eyes as he advances on you, hand above his head, ready to hit you. You didn’t know what came over you, but the first thing you did was kicking him away. That’s when a full on fight broke out.
You were filled with rage, your mind wasn’t registering what you were doing. You went into a flight or fight stance and started thrashing and kicking as his hands were holding painfully tight on your wrists after you tried punching him.
Your mom urges the both of you not to fight, her voice barely registering in your head as she sits still on the high chair by the kitchen island, not bothered to even try to cease the fight.
When you finally pushed him away, you ran into your room and locked it. Your chest was heaving from the panic attack that just started, you tried your best to calm yourself down, reminding yourself to breathe, it was suffocating, controlling your breathing as more tears made its way out of your eyes.
When it all stopped, your body succumbed into mental exhaustion, passing out on your bed as the tears finally ceased.
Tumblr media
You only woke up for dinner last night, and proceeded to sleep again. Yesterday’s events made you feel numb, other than the pain from the bruises on your arms.
There was a big ugly one on your left upper arm, its colour an ugly shade of green and purple.  A few other less serious ones scattered around your lower arms. In other words, you look like a wreck.
You wore a jacket to run even though you were sweating from your previous cardio work outs, feeling a little better after the endorphins in your body kicked in. When you got back, you quickly showered and ate a toast. When you asked for your mother’s phone to remind your boss you were going to take the day off, she told you that weren’t needed at the meeting anymore and that she finished everything last night.
“Just call to say that you’ll be going to work,” she said, not even looking in your direction when she handed you her phone.
But when you called to inform your boss, he told you that he had another part time coming in, and that it was too short of a notice. You said thank you and hung up, but said that you’ll be at work on time today before handing it back to your mother.
You really needed to escape for the day.
You opened the laptop and sent an email to Johnny.
I’m free today. Wanna go out?
You sat on your bed staring at the ceiling as you were sure it was going to be a bit before he replied, but just as you closed your eyes, you heard a distant chime from your laptop.
I’m rushing some stuff at the office today. I’m so sorry, Y/N.
Can I stay in your office? I really wanna get out of the house.
You sounded like a spoiled kid begging for attention, but you really wanted to see him today.
Sure. But you might get bored :) .
I’m leaving the house now :) .
For a 26 year old businessman, he sure loves to use emoticons.
You got changed into jeans and a jacket, you don’t usually wear one if you were going to a secluded area with Johnny, but you had to hide all the marks from last night. You just noticed that they hurt after you accidentally knocked your wrist against something.
You took the bus to the address Johnny wrote down on your diary, it was after one of your dinners together, and he jokingly said that you could always swing by if you wanted, you didn’t know you were going to actually do that.
The bus station wasn’t too far of a walk from his office, since it was just downtown Seoul where the Korea’s financial hub was located.
As you were nearing the office buildings, you stood out like a sore thumb, given the way you were dressed and your age. The people kept giving you stink eyes and sideway glances.
Suh Capital Partners. That was it.
You walked in the rotating doors, only to be greeted by masses of people walking around with smart pads, files, talking on the phone while the assistants take notes. Johnny didn’t mention his company being this big.
You admired the facade of the lobby, it displayed the latest news on a large monitor while futuristic lights hung from the high ceiling, the walls were a perfect balance of steel and wood with a wall of plants filled the wall behind the reception area. 
You realised that the people stopped what they were doing before and started looking at you curiously when one of the nicely dressed women from the reception walked up to you.
“Excuse me, miss. May I ask who are you looking for?” the woman asked, her eyes scanning you from top to toe.
You froze at your spot from how cold she sounded, like she didn’t want you around to ruin the aesthetic of the company. You reminded yourself that you weren’t going to see her anytime soon after this and that if you did make a fool of yourself then so be it.
“I’m looking for Mr Suh,” you told her.
She looked taken aback from your answer, but gave you the ugliest sneer when she recovered.
“Miss, this isn’t a school, you can’t just walk in here and demand to see someone without an appointment. Mr Suh is the head of this company, not someone you can just meet without an agreement from him. Please leave this instance,” she said, her tone high pitched enough to gather everyone’s attention, you swore you heard someone laughing a few feet away.
“But...
“That’s my guest, Ms Park.”
You whipped your head back to see Johnny standing behind you. But instead of his usual warm honey eyes, his eyes were a cold and staring daggers into the woman in front of you.
“I’m so sorry, Mr Suh. I’ll get back to my work now,” the woman bowed apologetically, going as far as doing it numerous times.
“I’m going to need a key card for her, Ms Park. Send it up to me when you’re done,” Johnny said, but his eyes were scanning the crowd, his employees immediately went back to what they were doing, the large lobby void of any sound other than people rushing to the lift lobby to escape the scene.
Johnny placed a hand behind your back and guided you to the lift lobby after most of the people have taken the ride up to their respective floors.
“I’m sorry,” you said after the coast was clear.
Johnny’s intimidating stance broke as confusion takes over his face.
“What are you sorry for?” Johnny asked, he should be the one saying sorry.
“I’m such an embarrassment, coming here in my jeans and jacket with a canvas bag, looking like a kid,” you said, fingers nervously tugging the straps of your old bag.
“Hey, hey, hey. Nothing’s wrong with being young and dressing your age. They’re just grumpy from all the work. Don’t take their words into account, and you look great. Perfection as always,” Johnny said reassuringly, hands placed on your shoulder, the warmth of his palms calming you slightly.
“No....
You buried your face into your hands as he patted your head, you sneakily glanced up to see him smiling at you with a toothy grin. But you quickly regained posture as you saw an elevator door open with many pairs of legs.
Johnny wasn’t going in even though the lift was going up, that’s when people in the lift realised it was him, and quickly came out of the lift, saying sorry and greeting Johnny.
Johnny guided you in after the lift was cleared empty. His staff looking at you curiously, you weren’t used to having so many pairs of eyes on you, their curious eyes burning holes into you.
Johnny could sense your anxiousness from the way you were hiding behind his tall figure as the two of you walked into his office, there weren’t many people at that time, given the fact that only direct reports of his business partners came up to hand in documents.
You only felt yourself loosen up a bit after you took a seat on Johnny’s armchair in his huge office, overlooking Seoul’s skyline and the cars that were buzzing about on the roads. The view made you calm down a bit from the journey coming up here.
You felt the chair dip as Johnny took a seat on its armrest, his hands coming up to give your shoulders a nice massage. Johnny smiled at the way your eyes lit up from his comforting touch as you looked back to smile at him, he felt a warm feeling deep in his belly as he takes in your beautiful features and the warmth of your shoulders on his fingertips. But as he puts more pressure onto your shoulders, you wince slightly, which didn’t go unnoticed by him.
“Did your boss at work make you lift heavy stuff again?” Johnny asked, his hands ceased all movements, fearing that he would hurt you again.
You automatically thought of your fight with your father last night, it might be because of the force exerted from when he had pushed you.
“N-no, I just didn’t sleep well last night. I watched a horror movie and had a nightmare,” you lied, not knowing how he would react if you told him the truth.
“Be careful when watching these movies, Y/N. If you went to work and your boss really made you move heavy things today, then you would’ve strain your muscles,” Johnny said, going back to massaging your shoulders, but this time gently applying pressure on that spot, rubbing it in clockwise circles to ease the pain.
“I’m fine, Johnny. Didn’t you have work to rush? I don’t want to keep you away from important matters. And my shoulders feel much better now,” you said, moving away from his hands even though you could’ve let him do that forever, it felt so comforting, borderline addictive.
“Okay, I’ll tend to your shoulders again later.” Johnny said as he lays his head on top of yours, a gesture that he had came up with whenever he wanted to show affection to you without crossing uncharted territories, your heart sped up whenever he does that.
You were just sitting on the couch reading one of your old books when you looked up and saw Johnny frowning at his laptop, you placed your book down and made your way to Johnny.
“Don’t frown like that, you’ll get frown lines when you’ll get older, it’ll spoil your handsome face,” you joked.
Your hands reach out to smooth the creases on his forehead, a smile coming back to Johnny’s face.
“Thank you,” he said, taking your busy hand into his, lightly tracing the area between your thumb and your index finger.
“What’s bothering you?” you asked, unbeknownst to you, your lips were unconsciously set in a pout.
“There’s some documents that are supposed to be sent to my office in Chicago, but the English that’s written here isn’t up to standards, I’m worried the staff there won’t understand what the document is stating. I don’t mind correcting it, but I have other things to tend to as well,” Johnny explained to you.
“Can I take a look at it? I had Cambridge classes for 8 years. Guess it’s finally coming in handy. I mean only if you think I’m capable, I don’t want you to think I’m boasting or anything, I just really wanna help...
“Y/N, sweet, I trust you. Just let me get you a laptop,” he said before dialling to his secretary.
Once Johnny sent the files to that laptop, you started correcting some grammatical errors and replaced some terms that weren’t as professional, when Johnny was done with his meeting, you were done with the documents as well.
“Here, take a look. There might be mistakes,” you said after sending him the files back.
“You were reading ‘me before you’, I think you’re fine, Y/N,” Johnny deadpanned.
“Just take a look, just in case,” you pleaded, doe eyes capturing his heart. Nodding, Johnny smiles, doing as you said.
Johnny scanned through the documents, his eyes lighting up brighter after each sentence, a proud smile making way on his face. When he was done, he pulled you close by the waist, and gave you a warm hug, his head nuzzling into your sweater.
“Thank you so much, sweetheart. I thought I needed to work overtime because of this,” he said, his voice was slightly muffled by the cotton.
“You’re welcome. You can always send me these files when I’m not here, I don’t want you to overwork yourself,” you offered.
“I’m fine, don’t worry. Wanna grab lunch? I can hear your stomach rumbling,” Johnny asked after pulling away, a cheeky glint in his eyes.
You could feel your cheeks heating up in embarrassment, as you hit Johnny’s shoulders lightly for his teasing, a smile creeping up your face.
“No, I’m not...
“Come on, I know this really nice French restaurant around the corner...
“Johnny I have the file you were...
Doyoung stops in his tracks as he sees you and Johnny being so close to each other.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t know you had a guest,” Doyoung apologises, but his eyes were still wide in disbelief.
“Doyoung. This is Y/N. Y/N, Doyoung is one of my business partners, his dad was my dad’s business partner so now it’s his turn,” Johnny introduces his friend to you, telling you a bit of his background.
You gave Doyoung a tiny bow and soft hello, nerves wrecking up at meeting someone you often see on telly whenever their company has a press conference. You could sense an air of discomfort as Doyoung gives you a questioning look.
“You can just put the files on my desk Doyoung. I’ll take a look at them after my lunch break.”
Tumblr media
When the evening rolled in, Johnny had to drive you home before your mom questioned your whereabouts.
“I really enjoyed having you by my side today, Y/N,” Johnny said sincerely after pulling up outside the gated area.
“I should be the one thanking you, I can’t believe those snails cost so much, yet you won’t let me pay you back whenever we have meals together,” you retorted, recalling how your eyes almost flew out of their sockets when you stole a glance at the bill.
“Money is not an issue, Y/N. I told you that many times before,” Johnny reminded you.
“I’ll see you on Saturday?” you asked, changing the subject before he offers to buy you a house or something.
“Yeah,” Johnny said, chuckling at how you diverted his attention.
Johnny unlocked the doors of his car, but right before you pulled onto the handle, Johnny pulled your arm, the place where one of the bigger bruises were located at, making you wince at the unexpected pain.
“Y/N I wanted to ask, wait. Are you in pain? Are you hurt? Did I accidentally hurt you?” Johnny asked his eyes wide in worry.
Before you could protest, Johnny pushed up the sleeves of your sweater, revealing the big ugly bruise on your upper arm, and several others that went downwards until your wrist.
You looked up at Johnny, scanning his face that was frozen in shock, eyes not believing what he’s seeing. His fingers gently tracing every bruise, his other hand rotating your arm gently, to see if there’s more.
“Y/N... Who did this to you?” Johnny questioned, but deep down in his gut, he’s sure it’s who he thinks it is.
“No one, Johnny. I just fell down when I woke up,” you said, lying through your teeth, you didn’t want to, but that was your survival instinct whenever someone asks about your parents.
“Don’t lie to me Y/N, it’s them isn’t it? They hit you. Why didn’t you tell me?” Johnny demanded, he questions why you don’t trust him, was he not worthy in your eyes?
“It’s nothing, Johnny. Goodnight,” you said in a breath before turning away.
You quickly got out of his car and ran to your lift lobby, Johnny was following behind you. But before he could step into the premise, you shut the glass door which could only be opened with a security card on him, mouthing the words sorry before you made your way into a lift.
Johnny banged at the door, shouting for you to come back, before the security guards asked him to leave. He could feel a prickle in his heart as he sees the bruises in his head, the image fresh. He felt red hot anger boiling in his heart, he was going to get you out of that horrible place, no matter what it takes.
137 notes · View notes
thatsamericano · 3 years
Text
To Be a Gardener in Love with a Prince
Pairing/Characters: America/Romano, Prussia cameo. Human AU.
Ratings/Warnings: Teen, for cursing. No warnings.
Word Count: 2440
Summary: Savino makes a flower delivery in the middle of the night as he usually does, but this time Alfred wakes up.
A/N: For @aphrarepairweek2021 Day 2, “Royalty.” Inspired by this popular text post, which screams Romerica to me.
Savino checked to make sure that the small bouquet of thornless roses he’d prepared earlier were securely strapped to his chest as he approached the castle entrance. Gilbert, the palace guard, raised a single pale eyebrow him.
“Again, Savi? What is this, the third time this week?”
Savino scowled at him. “Shut up.”
Gilbert laughed and got in position to lift him up towards the first foothold on the stone wall. “You know, it might be easier to just tell Prince Alfred how you feel. That way you wouldn’t have to climb into his bedroom every night just to leave him flowers.”
Savino grunted and stretched up to place his hand over a balcony ledge. “If I wanted your advice, I would’ve fucking asked.”
Gilbert turned back to watch the area outside the castle. “Whatever you say, Romeo.”
Savino frowned to himself as he leveraged himself up onto the balcony. Gilbert’s comparison was strangely apt. They weren’t from feuding families, but he had about as much chance with Prince Alfred as Romeo and Juliet had of ending up together. Alfred was the eldest prince, born with more wealth and power than most people could even contemplate. Savino was just the guy who’d been hired to tend to the plants in the castle’s garden.
Alfred was pretty strange, as far as royalty went. Savino had been kicked around a lot in his life, and most people from the upper class wouldn’t bother to speak to him, because they thought a title and inherited wealth made them better than a mere commoner like Savino, especially one who got soil under their fingernails each day from toiling in a garden. But Alfred wasn’t like that. They’d met one day while Alfred was guiding his horse back to the stables, and Savino had bowed and called him “Your Royal Highness,” as he had been trained to his entire life. Alfred had chuckled, told Savino he could stand, and that he was more comfortable being called “Alfred,” and that he didn’t think he was better than anyone else just because he was a prince. The entire encounter was bizarre as hell, especially when Alfred shook his hand and asked who Savino was like they were equals.
The next day, he came back, just to chat and get to know the new gardener better. Alfred asked him questions about the seaside town he’d been born in, his life, and his family, and he seemed genuinely interested in everything Savino had to say. Alfred kept visiting, and he talked about himself too, but not in a pompous or arrogant way. Usually it was funny anecdotes about his younger brother, his parents, or the boring meetings he had to attend. Occasionally, he’d complain about how he kept getting offers of marriages on behalf of princesses from other countries. Alfred didn’t want to marry some girl he’d met only once or twice simply because it would create an advantageous political alliance.
“Who would you wanna marry?” Savino had asked him once.
Alfred frowned thoughtfully. “I dunno. Someone who likes me, and I like her. Someone I can talk to for hours on end without getting bored, the way I can talk to you. Someone who makes me feel excited when I wake up, because I know I’ll get to see them that day.”
“You want to marry for love, then,” Savino concluded.
“Doesn’t everybody?”
It was at that point Savino realized that, against all his preconceived notions, Alfred had become one of his closest friends at the castle. A few months after that, he came to the painful realization that he’d fallen in love with a goddamn prince. It didn’t have anything to do with some silly fantasy about rising above his current station. He just loved Alfred, for his carefree smile, windswept blond hair, the way he’d take an extra pastry from the kitchen to make sure Savino got to eat lunch in the afternoons, and all those times he got down on his hands and knees to pull weeds out of a flowerbed with Savino just because he “looked like he could use a little help.” He loved Alfred’s tight hugs, his hilariously accurate impression of the king, the glee in Alfred’s voice when he called out for “Vinny,” the nickname he’d given Savino only a couple weeks after they’d first met, and the fact that Alfred had been so happy he’d bounced on his feet after Savino started calling him Fredo.
If Alfred had been a knight or a stable boy, Savino would have tried to figure out if he could be interested in men romantically. And then, if it seemed like a real possibility, he would have done something about his feelings. As it was, Alfred was so far out of his league that all Savino could do was pick a few flowers and leave him anonymous bouquets while he was sleeping. A confession of any kind was completely out of the realm of possibility.
After reaching that first balcony, Savino had to do a bit more careful climbing to reach the highest window, which led into the prince’s bedroom. Every time he delivered flowers to Alfred, Savino wished he could get into the castle like a normal person instead of risking life and limb. Unfortunately, Gilbert was the only guard Savino trusted not to run to the king and alert him about an intruder “harassing” his oldest son. If he was accused of trying to harm a member of the royal family, Savino could be sentenced to death, and Alfred’s protestations might not be enough to save him.
Savino wiggled through the open window, grateful that Alfred habitually left his window up in the warm summer evenings as he slept. Savino couldn’t have delivered his flowers if Alfred hadn’t been quite so trusting.
The room was dark, and he only had a bit of moonlight to guide him. But after so many clandestine visits, Savino was familiar with the layout of Alfred’s bedroom, and he was confident that he could tiptoe across the plush, carpeted floor, locate the empty vase on the third shelf of Alfred’s bookcase, leave his roses, and then retreat without Alfred having any clue he was ever here.
Unfortunately, he wasn’t counting on a footstool to be placed directly in the shadow cast by Alfred’s enormous four-poster bed. Savino stubbed his toe on the damn footstool, and hissed instead of screeching out a curse like he normally would have at the unexpected, sharp pain.
The bedcovers rustled as Alfred slowly began to wake up. “What’s going on? Who’s there?”
Savino clenched his jaw and silently prayed Alfred wouldn’t see him. If he just stayed perfectly still and didn’t breathe too loudly, maybe Fredo would assume he’d been dreaming and go back to sleep. Then Savino could get the fuck out of here with some shred of dignity left.
Too late. Alfred shifted up into a sitting position and reached over to the side table for his glasses. He put them on and squinted through the darkness. “Vinny?” he asked. “Is that you?”
Savino coughed and tried to deepen his voice. “It doesn’t matter who I am. Just go back to sleep.”
“It is you!” Alfred grinned, shoved the covers back, and bounded towards him with a remarkable amount of energy for someone who’d just woken up only a few seconds ago.  “What are you doing here in the middle of the night? Did you need to talk to me about something?”
“I… uh…” Savino couldn’t figure out what to say, and he couldn’t figure out where to look. His best friend, who he was hopelessly in love with, was wondering why Savino had snuck into his room long past midnight. If he looked up, he would see Alfredo’s goofy, oblivious smile and his hair that was mussed adorably from being rubbed across his pillow while he slept. If he cast his gaze eye level or lower, he would be looking at the prince’s goddamn silk pajamas. Anything he saw would be too intimate or too much.
Alfred stepped even closer and tilted his head down. “Dude, are those… roses? Why would you have roses strapped to your chest?”
Savino squeezed his eyes shut and hoped Alfred couldn’t see how close he was to bursting into tears. “I can explain, Fredo, I swear.”
Alfred gasped. “Oh my God! You’re the one who’s been leaving flowers in my room! I can’t believe this!”
“I’m sorry. I know it wasn’t my place, and I had no right to—"
Savino couldn’t even stutter out a full apology, because the next thing he knew, Alfred was hugging him and giggling in his ear. Not only hugging him and giggling, but picking Savino up and spinning him around in the air.
After several rotations, he finally set a baffled, dizzy Savino back down on his feet. Alfred shifted back a little to beam down at him, but kept his hands lightly resting on Savino’s waist for reasons Savino couldn’t begin to fathom.
“Sorry, what were you saying?”
“I was trying to apologize,” Savino said slowly, to emphasize the words. “For breaking into your private bedroom. For giving you gifts that are a little strange for friends to give each other, no matter how close they are.” Maybe Alfred had missed the romantic subtext of everything he’d done? It was the only explanation Savino could think of for why he was reacting like this.
Alfred shook his head, still smiling. “Vinny, dude, you don’t have to apologize for that. The next time you want to come into my room, you can just ask. I don’t want you breaking your neck trying to climb a wall or something.”
“But what about the, um…”
“The flowers? I had no idea it was you. I mean, you are the gardener here, so it makes sense, but when Mattie brought it up to me, I was like nah, no way. Vinny’s way too cute and charming to go for someone like me. He could have anyone he wanted.”
Savino’s head was spinning, and his heart was pounding, but not from anxiety this time. “You’ve told your brother about me?”
“Heck, I’ve told everyone about you. I’m pretty sure they’re sick of hearing me talk about you so much. But the only people I’ve told everything to are Mattie and my manservant, Tolys. The rest of them would try to tell me I shouldn’t be in love with you, either because you’re a gardener or because you’re not a girl. I’d rather not have to hear their stupid opinions about you, because they don’t know shit.”
“You… you love me?” It sounded fake when Savino said it out loud, but he was only repeating what Fredo had just told him.
Alfred frowned, suddenly looking worried and insecure. “Was I not supposed to say that? I didn’t misread everything, did I? Were those just friendship flowers?”
Savino shook his head, crying and laughing at the same time. “Tesoro, there’s no such thing.”
“Oh, good. Does that mean I can kiss you now?”
Savino answered him by planting his hands on Alfred’s shoulders and leaning up to kiss him. Alfred smiled into the kiss and tightened his grip on Alfred’s shoulders. The roses were crushed in between them, but for the moment he had more important things to focus on.
By the time Savino broke the kiss, they were both grinning stupidly at each other. “Wow, we should’ve done that a long time ago,” Alfred said.
Savino laughed. “It would’ve been easier than climbing into your room to leave flowers all those times.”
Alfred reached out to tuck a strand of hair behind his ear. “I’m not sure how, but I’m gonna figure out a way to be with you. Before we met, I’d resigned to marrying some random princess for political reasons. The best I could’ve hoped was learning how to like her eventually. But now I know what it’s like to be happy, to be with you, and I’m too selfish to give that up. I won’t.”
Savino swallowed a lump in his throat. “Even if it meant you’d have to give up everything else in your life?”
“Even then.” He brushed a featherlight kiss over Savino’s temple. “You’re worth it, sweetheart.”
Savino’s logical side told him he shouldn’t believe Alfred, because he was making ridiculous promises no one in his position would actually keep. But the way he was treating him so softly and the way he’d called him sweetheart made Savino believe him. He smiled as he pulled back and walked over to Alfred’s bookcase. He unwrapped the roses from their makeshift wrapping and arranged them in Alfred’s empty vase.
“The flowers I got you are horribly squished, by the way.”
“Well, that’s okay. I’d rather get squished flowers from you than unsquished flowers from anyone else.”
That sentiment was so adorably, earnestly Alfred that Savino couldn’t help himself. As soon as he walked back to Alfred, he kissed him again, and Alfred eagerly reciprocated.
“I guess this is goodbye, for now. I need to sneak back out before another guard comes on duty.”
Alfred tipped his forehead against his, and they swayed back and forth in a slow mimicry of a dance. “I’ll help you sneak in tomorrow. If you come by earlier, you’ll get to stay for longer.”
He’d love that. He loved Alfredo, and it was complicated, but no longer hopeless. He backed up towards the open window, and Alfred walked with him. “I love you, Fredo. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“I love you too. Will you be safe getting down?”
“I’ll be fine. Go to sleep.”
Alfred peered out the window as Savino climbed out the window and very carefully descended down the castle wall. He was still standing by the window by the time Savino had made it to the ground, and he only left after Savino waved to indicate that he had made it down safely.
Gilbert smirked at Savino as he was walking past him. “Another successful flower delivery?”
Savino shrugged. “The flowers were a little squished, but I don’t think Alfredo will mind.” I’d rather get squished flowers from you than unsquished flowers from anyone else. Savino grinned at the memory of what Alfred had said. He probably wouldn’t be able to stop smiling for at least a week.
Gilbert’s chortling followed Savino as he walked down the well-worn path between his own small house and the castle where Alfred and his family slept. His smile stayed with him even longer, until he was drifting off to sleep in his own bed.
25 notes · View notes
mihidecet · 4 years
Text
SBi d&d AU: Tubbo
Aka: Tibi’s MCYT WritingTober, day 20!
From @the-only-gamer-gost ‘s list of prompts, another entry for “Fanmade AU” ahahah And as requested by a super cool anon: “ i'd love to see more of tommy's backstory in the d&d au! especially if we can meet tubbo?” :D
Ask and you shall receive! You can also find Tubbo’s reference sheet made by the wonderful @whatimevendoinhere here! Also, @rigatonipastaroni made a super sweet comic about the reunion, waaay before the chapter was even posted!!
There is nothing quite as sad as a bard with a broken guitar. 
It happens during a fight, a sadly-not-that-unusual spar with a rogue elemental that had decided to mess with a village just because they had been bored. 
Absolutely unrelatable. Tommy's patron had commented, the absolute hypocrite.
Still, the overall business had been quite straightforward: get to the outskirts, find the bad guy, kick their ass, profit. 
Nothing they hadn't done before. 
And like everything they expected to go smoothly, things went wrong. 
Tommy would say that thankfully nobody had gotten hurt, and everyone was perfectly fine, and they'd gotten a particularly big reward for something that standard. 
Wilbur would say, instead, that his guitar had been irreparably damaged, its neck snapped in half and body ripped apart, shards laying on the ground like blood, a gruesome heart-wrenching sight that would haunt him until the end of times. 
Tommy's patron had warned him that his second-degree cousin was a bit dramatic, but maybe it was just standard bard behaviour.
To be fair, the guitar was mostly gone. 
Wilbur had picked up as many pieces as he could and stuffed them in its case, but no amount of mending cantrips had been able to fix it. Phil had tried, but he didn't know how guitars worked and it was hard to discriminate where each shard needed to be placed in order to mold it all back together, like a freakishly hard jigsaw puzzle. 
And Wilbur had been extremely proud of his guitar, as apparently it had been a gift and a memento of his grandiose adventures. Sentimental values and such. 
Not that Tommy could say anything about it, not after the friendship bracelet incident.
For about a week, every time they stopped by a town, they looked for a carpenter first, a musical expert second, and an arcane expert third. 
They never managed to fix it. The thing was, it happened to be a weirdly specific and skill-needing task, so nobody they found was either confident enough or prepared enough to do it. 
So they moved on, and the bard's lament continued.
It gets to the point where one night, the innkeeper approaches their table during one of Will's performances - the tiefling had insisted in keeping the tradition of offering his musical entertainment in each tavern they resided in, now with just his voice and sometimes his flute, but being unable to have music as he sang and vice versa was truly different. 
That night, Wilbur is singing a ballad so sad and tear-jerking that the innkeeper actually approaches them and asks if everything is alright. 
"Oh- oh, yes, my apologies, everything is alright. -" Phil instantly responds, looking quite awkward "- It's just that his guitar broke, and we haven't been able to find anyone to fix it. It was of great personal importance." 
The innkeeper nods understandingly, an expression of deep empathetic sadness on their face, before their eyes light up. 
"You know, I might just have what you need. You guys are lucky, the Fixer Upper just arrived a week ago! If he doesn't know how to fix it, nobody will." 
After obtaining a brief explanation of where to find this infamous "Fixer Upper", who apparently works for free and will probably ask for food, shelter or protection as he moves to the next town over, the innkeeper leaves them be, assuring them that it'll be the solution to all their problems. 
Phil finds himself, despite the overall skepticism, feeling a bit of hope. If nothing, at least he might be able to convince Wilbur to buy a new one - make new memories. 
Even Wilbur is less enthusiastic than usual when they tell him, but after all they've been redirected to plenty of miracle workers that turned out to be unable to do anything.
The only thing that feels a bit off, is how Tommy's patron keeps giggling in his head - the way he does when he knows something Tommy doesn't. It's a bother, but Tommy's too tired to try and investigate.
The "Fixer Upper" is staying in a farm just outside the village, apparently sleeping in the barn. 
He comes to the village every couple of months, apparently used to circling back around the same couple of dozen of places, constantly travelling from one to the other and helping out whoever needs something fixed. The innkeeper that recommended him apparently had him fix their son's prosthetic leg, which has been working better than ever. 
The fact that he never asks for compensation is what keeps them all on the defensive: nobody does anything for anyone without coin on the line, so Wilbur is already somewhat expecting to find yet another old relative making deals with young children. 
Yes, he is still a bit bothered by the fact that his second degree cousin spends half of his time inside Tommy's head. 
No, he's not going to bring it up. 
 Approaching the barn, an increasing cacophony of sounds greets them, and Wilbur starts looking less and less convinced and more and more like he wants to leave - not to blame him, the noises are definitely not reassuring. 
They enter the barn, where one side is perfectly fine and the other has a bunch of mechanical and metallic parts strewn on the ground. 
At this point, Techno has a hand on Wilbur's arm, either to instill some confidence in him or to keep him from running away with the shattered guitar.
Then all of them stop, frozen in their tracks, as something completely out of the ordinary appears from behind a wooden wall - that is quite an extraordinary feat, considering the peculiar array of people they are. 
There's a huge block of metal, vaguely rectangular shaped and painted black and yellow, floating towards them. It has what looks like the spinny part of a windmill rotating at embarrassingly high speed over it, and the noise it makes vaguely resembles that of a low hum, or maybe a buzz. 
Two large semi-transparent circles - its … eyes? - emit a soft light that shines against Phil's palm as it bumps against him, the elf cooing with an adoring expression. 
"Hello dear, you're not one of nature's children but you are alive, aren't you?" 
Even Tommy, who has no idea how magic or nature works - he made a pact with a demon for a reason, alright? - can see that it's an impressive display of craftsmanship. 
Wilbur is looking quite confused on Phil's right, but he's no longer needing Techno to keep him from bailing on the whole thing. And to be honest, if somebody's able to make … this, maybe they'll be able to fix his guitar. 
"AH- Visitors! Sorry, I hadn't heard you coming in-" a short figure stumbles in sight from behind a pile of apparently garbage.
The short man, who appears to be human, had wild brown hair, somewhat darker in certain spots where black oil seems to have gotten stuck. There seems to be oil and soot all over his clothes and hands, where bandages cover his fingers.
On his head reside a pair of goggles - multiple lenses of different thicknesses and colours appended to its sides - and he's holding a wrench as if they'd interrupted his work, which would explain the worrying noises. 
The mechanic has a bright welcoming smile on his face when he appears, which immediately falters the moment he sees the infamous mercenary group, expression turning to fear. Which is understandable, given their fame of being quick, efficient and rather costly, unless they're working for the good of all.
Then it turns to shock, when Tommy takes a tentative step forward from behind Phil's back. Which is less understandable.
"Tubbo?" Tommy's voice calls, almost breathless. The boy takes off his goggles and blinks. The wrench he was holding clutters to the ground.
"Holy shit, Toms."
The warlock lets out a strangled yelp, then blinks out of existence in a puff of bright red smoke, reappearing right in front of the other boy and picking him up in a bone crushing hug as he laughs - more joyous than Wilbur's ever heard him - and the two of them fall to the ground.
When Tubbo is still a teenager, he loses his best friend to the prejudice and scorn of their hometown. 
All they need to see are the buddying horns on his forehead, the flames licking at his fingertips, the reddening skin around his eyes, and they banish him. 
They come for him, in the middle of the night, and find nobody but his parents in his home, because Tommy has always been smarter than he let on. 
Half a day earlier, Tommy had said his goodbyes to the last few people that deserved to know where he was going; never once asking for his parents' forgiveness for something he always knew he was going to do - Tubbo had never seen his best friend more sure of anything, even at the worst moments, when the ritual was about to begin, or the few first weeks when he had to use all his coins to buy salve for burns.
And so Tubbo was left alone, left behind. 
It lasted for one day.
Tubbo had never been particularly gifted in the craft his parents had tried to teach him - glass blowing was definitely not his forte, his hands too strong, his grip too tight - and he'd never shown any latent arcane power. Books on the arcane were long, boring and complex, the glyphs all looking the same and mixing with each other on the page. 
But that didn't mean anything to him: he was going to do great things, with or without magic, and he was going to find his best friend again. 
Fate wanted to keep them apart? Tubbo was going to stare Fate in the face and laugh. 
If the glyphs and arcane chants of the mages weren't going to cooperate, he was going to force his hands into the fabric of the arcane plane and pull magic out by himself. 
And again, why stick to prayers and dealings with other entities when he could just make it himself?
To be fair, it does take him a lot more time than the couple of weeks of research and half-and-hour-deal that was Tommy's experience. But Tubbo's always been a quick learner.
The day he finishes his big project, he leaves his home, ready for adventure. 
He has a map of the coast, enough coin to pay for emergencies and a backpack full of the tools he needs to offer his assistance to whomever will need it. 
His marked path will bring him around the same towns. Tommy is bound to pass by at least one of them during his travels. 
Tubbo's going to be alright.
Tommy's eyes are absolutely not, under no circumstances, shining as he tries to squeeze the life out of his best friend. 
Tubbo is just laughing, which is quite rude in Tommy's personal opinion, he should be struggling to breathe due to his impressive strength.
"Look at you! You made it!" The mechanic cheers, squeezing tighter - which, ouch, when did he become strong, it must have been all the working with metal, this is the worst possible outcome. Tommy lets him go for a moment, leaning back to splutter and wave wildly at the mechanical bee still intent on bumping its head against Phil's hand. By the Nine Hells, Tubbo made a living bee with the attitude of a puppy out of metal. 
"I made it?! You made bees!" Tommy protests, feeling a swell of pride for how far his best friend has come. On a completely unrelated note, there must be light shining insistently in his eyes. 
"I know! Aren't they cute! Ah! Let me introduce you to them!" Tubbo exclaims, hurrying to stand up - nearly elbowing Tommy in the gut - and grabbing his hand so that he can drag Tommy towards the bee from earlier. 
Then he stops in his tracks - which makes Tommy slam into his back and get oil stains on his favourite shirt - as he realises there are three other people in the room, all staring at them with varying degrees of amusement. 
"So, what just happened?" Wilbur asks, looking quite shell shocked. 
165 notes · View notes
missgarnet · 3 years
Text
Stay
Tumblr media
pairing: king taehyung x reader
word count: 5.4k
Genre:royal au/fluff/angst
Summary: There are boundaries and rules for interacting with royals, Y/N's been around long enough to figure them out for herself. But what happens when the widdowed king returns to the palace and she begins to see him as more of a person than a ruler. Can the two of them stay to put back the broken pieces left from their pasts, or will everything go wrong when the truth comes out?
Warnings: brief mentions of blood, brief mentions of death, brief mentions of child loss
Link to ao3
The sweat seeped into her nightgown, making the fabric cling to her shivering body. Her chest rattled with cough as her breath grew labored. Taehyung sat in the rocking chair by her side, studying the small crack in the arm rest as he tried to avoid seeing how small and frail she’d grown over the last few weeks. The pains started all too soon, the king grew worried as her hands pressed against her swollen stomach. It was too soon for both of them, and he was pulled away before the labor had truly even started. 
He paced in the hallways as her pained cries sounded out from behind closed doors. It pained him to see the pale faced nurses carrying armfuls of bloodied sheets away from where she layed, scared and alone without the one person who was supposed to be with her no matter what. They wouldn’t let him in the room, even after she was gone. Neither of them lived long, she was too young, too lively to go this soon. And the king’s child had barely even taken his first breath when things started going downhill. The physicians tried everything, but they couldn’t save either one. 
When you joined the palace staff, everything was in a state of mourning. The halls felt so empty without the queen, and chests of her belongings being sent away only made it worse. You knew that the king had requested you to take this position, but he had refused to see you or anyone that he didn’t have to. Soon after the palace grew even emptier as the king began preparing for a trip to the Southern Palace, where he would be staying with the Parks and one of the lesser Kim families. His absence and lack of greeting toward you was unusual compared to your previous experience, but you didn’t mind. Oftentimes you found it better to avoid meeting with nobles, especially those employing you. 
Your job was difficult enough without the added stress of having to interact with them. Most nobles had no clue how to run their staff, it was much easier for them to pay someone else to make sure their manors ran smoothly. It was your job to make sure the kitchens were stocked and well staffed, as well as seeing to the gardens, art collections, and countless rooms to be cared for. You’d been hesitant at accepting this offer but as soon as Duchess Min heard, she demanded you take this opportunity. She was a force to be reckoned with, and yet the duchess was your favourite household to work in. It was one of the more unusual places you’d worked, normally a duchess would be reserved and follow her husband's lead. However, she was more intimidating than him and that’s saying a lot. You’re half convinced she would have murdered you herself if you didn’t take her advice on going to the palace. If only she could see you now. 
In the years since you joined the palace you were sure to make one thing very clear. Even though the king had not returned, your standards would be just as if he were in that very room. You had made it a point to keep every room spotless, and a constant rotation of culinary experts for when there were guests. Unfortunately, there were certain rooms you were unable to access and the annoyance of a couple locked doors that not one of the staff could find keys for. Which was why it struck you as quite unusual that one of those damn doors had found itself slightly ajar, as if someone had found the key. You nearly had a heart attack when you saw the man curled up on the floor. 
“Excuse me. What in the hell do you think-” you freeze mid sentence as you take in the man before you, he wore no crown and looked different from the portraits you had seen but it was impossible not to recognise him. The man sitting there before you was none other than the king. You dropped into a curtsy as you frantically attempted to make up for your mistake, “Your majesty, I am so so sorry. I was not made aware of your arrival and the open door just gave me a bit of a fright. No one’s been able to open most of this wing and seeing you here startled me.”
The king sniffles, looking so small for a man of his importance, “I- I didn’t want to be announced. I thought it would be best if I had time to adjust, being here it’s just a little much. And besides I’d rather not have people seeing me like this. It’s shameful really. Kings don’t cry.”
You carefully take a step forward, watching for him to react or ask you to leave but instead he stays still as you seat yourself on the floor across from him. “Maybe not, I don’t know enough about kings to say one way or the other. But I know people, and people need to cry sometimes, and yell, and laugh, and just express whatever it is that they’ve got trapped inside of their heads.”
“I’m not just a person though, there’s too many expectations for me to do that.”
“Maybe not,”you pause for a moment trying to think of the right words. “What if even just for a moment, you and I sit here and just be a normal person for a little while. We can talk or just sit in silence, but without all the pressures and responsibilities of everything else.”
“One condition, I don’t want anyone to know you found me like this. I just needed a minute, please don’t tell anyone.”
“Your Majesty, it’s my job to notice everything and nothing at the same time. Trust me, your secret’s safe with me. I’ll do my best to make sure the staff allows you to have as much privacy as you need.”
“Thank you.”
Mina’s feet were pressing against your spine when you woke up before sunrise the next morning, for such a small child she really had a talent for taking the entire bed. As you slipped out from the covers, you couldn’t help but notice how sweet she looked as she curled herself into a little ball the second you got up. Getting dressed without waking her up was usually difficult but you had years of practice with this. You’d found it was easiest to start your day by being the among the first to be up and about in the palace. It gave you enough time to brew coffee for the other staff about to start their days, and a time and place where you didn’t have to worry about anyone else. That was before today of course. 
One thing you’d learned early on and come to rely on was the fact that most royalty did not know where anything was, and they made it a point to avoid the servants' side of everything. This was why you found it so surprising when you walked into the kitchen to find a certain king  attempting to figure out how to brew a cup of coffee. 
“Good morning,” he said, looking up at you with a boxy smile.
“Good morning, Your Majesty. Please forgive me for asking, but are you lost?”
He seems to find something entertaining in your response and proceeds to start laughing at this. “No, I’m pretty sure I was still in my palace last time I checked. I just thought it’d be easier for us to talk in your office, but you’re not using it.”
“I’ve found it’s easier to run everything if I’m the one going to them, so I never even opened the door to the staff office. This way I can move around and see what’s going on at all times. I can’t be in charge if I don’t know what is going on around me. I could start using it if that would make things easier on you, Your Majesty”
“No, I like the way you’ve been handling things. It's just that you’re quite a difficult person to keep track of. And I wish you wouldn’t call me that all the time, it’s exhausting having to hear your majesty this and your majesty that. I just get sick of hearing it so much.”
“It’s your title, what else would you have me call you?”
“Taehyung,” he grins. “Or Tae if you want. I think I’d rather just be myself around you, it’s one less person I have to worry about impressing.”
“Very well, Your- Taehyung.” You found your eyes wandering from the soft curls framing his face to his warm smile and lips that were begging to be- No, absolutely not he was your boss and a king, you could not start thinking of him like that. But maybe he wasn’t so bad, maybe the two of you could be… friends. 
“Do you want breakfast?”
“You can cook?”
“A little, I’m not very good at it but Jin’s been teaching me.” He seemed confident, so you figured what’s the worst that could happen and left the young king to attempt cooking on his own.
Turns out you were right to be concerned with him being in the kitchen, despite Jin’s lessons he had a long way to go before making anything unsupervised. Apparently the worst thing that could happen was not him breaking the eggs and leaving the shells in, but rather forgetting what he was making and almost setting the kitchen on fire. 
A few weeks later Taehyung had started meeting with various ladies of the court. You were aware of the arrangement but something bothered you about the sour attitude he had every time he returned from being with one of them. It was a peculiar feeling that made you want to reach out and comfort him. Even as you told yourself that this was just a platonic feeling, something innocent between friends, you couldn’t help but noticing a growing jealousy for these women. 
The door slammed behind the king as he returned from his meeting with Lady Nam. “Y/N, I’ll be in my office. Could you bring dinner up when you have the time?”
“Of course, I’ll have it finished immediately.” By the time you got to the office, you found the door half open like it was the first time you met. “Taehyung, I brought food, and I asked them to make a couple desserts just in case. I don’t mean to overstep, but what’s going on? You seemed upset.”
“It’s nothing, I just didn’t think they’d be so forward with their intentions. I know I’m supposed to be meeting with the noble ladies as a way to find another wife, but I didn’t think they’d be presenting me with a marriage contract the first time I ever meet her.”
“I’m so sorry. I can’t imagine someone having the audacity to do that, especially under the circumstances.”
“It’s not your fault, most nobles don’t get to marry someone they already care for. My wife and I didn’t really get along in the beginning, but I cared for her. We ended up becoming friends as time went on. It’s not much but it’s better than most. I feel a little bad for admitting this, but I wanted more this time.”
“It’s not wrong to want something more. I don’t know if this will help but I don’t think loving someone else doesn’t mean you cared for her any less.” The two of you sat in silence for a moment, what you said was true but it also wasn’t your place. You were there to serve and manage the household affairs, advice was overstepping and you had learned better.
“I know. It’s just so much harder than I thought it would be, moving on. She used to make jokes about how something wasn’t her problem, that it was something for my next wife to deal with. Sometimes I wonder if she knew, especially towards the end. She was just so small.” He lowered his head, curls falling before his saddened eyes. “I just want someone to love me, I want someone to stay.”
“Tae, I can’t promise much but please know you have my unwavering loyalty. I’m here to stay however long you’ll want me for.” You were falling and you just couldn’t stop. There were boundaries kept in place for a reason, but somehow you just kept crossing them for the young king. It felt like he was a little broken too, and maybe just maybe you could be the one to put each other back together. You couldn't stop yourself from pushing the hair out of his face and meeting his eyes with yours. This is the closest the two of you have been, barely a breath apart. 
The two of you were so focused on each other that neither noticed the door opening. That was until a certain small child came tugging at your sleeve. “Y/N, it’s snowing! There’s really snow outside! Can we go? Please!”
A panic snapped you out of whatever strange feeling had come over you just moments before. You grabbed Mina by the hand and began guiding her towards the door, “Mina! What did I tell you about wandering around? You could have gotten lost or hurt, and you know there’s places that are off limits for a reason.” You turn back to the king, trying your best to repair the situation. “Your Majesty, I am so sorry. I didn’t expect-”
“Please don’t worry about it, I actually like kids but there’s not many around here.” He walks over to where you’re still holding on to Mina and kneels so that the two of them are almost the same height. “Hi, I’m Taehyung. And you know, I think we might have some extra winter coats around here if you want to go and see the snow up close. I think I might take a break and join the two of you, if that’s alright with Y/N.”
“Please Y/N, please? I’ve never got to see it in person.” Mina says turning around and begins tugging on your skirts this time, to your surprise Taehyung joins in her pleas asking you to join them. 
“Fine you can go,” you tell them as you try to hold in your laughter. “But you have to put on coats and gloves first, both of you. It’s too cold out and I don’t want either of you getting frostbite.”
“Y/N, you’re coming with right? It wouldn’t be the same without you.”
“Why not? I don’t see the harm in a little snow.” The three of you dug through the little storage closet, tossing gloves and hats around at each other until you had matching sets. Coats were much easier to find, they were already organized by size to make things easier for staff.
For most places a first snow was barely enough to dust the ground and disappeared within a few hours at the most. However, this palace was unlike anywhere else you’d been. Somehow the snow had already formed a thick blanket across the grounds despite it’s unusually early arrival. It looked like something out of a fairytale and there was a certain kind of magic in the air as the three of you stepped into the gardens that day. 
You couldn’t help but feel a warmth in your heart as you watched the two of them playing together in the snow. He looked carefree and unburdened for the first time since you’d met, and Mina finally got the chance to play like most kids her age. The two of them were running circles around the snow, chasing each other in a game of tag. It came as quite the shock when you felt the cold ball of ice striking you in the side, especially when you took in the king’s laughter and his reddened cheeks from the cold. Without even thinking you sunk your hands into the snow and packed it into a dense little sphere, chucking it in his direction as hard as you could. 
Mina laughed as she watched your snowball glide directly over her head and strike Taehyung hard enough to make him lose his balance. Tae flopped back in the snow, and you began to worry you’d hit him too hard. Getting closer you notice Mina throwing herself down in the snow next to him, the two of them flapping their arms as they lay on their backs.
“Y/N, come help us. We’re making snow angels!” Mina calls from her spot on the ground. You sigh as you plop down between them, trying to ignore the cold ice seeping into your gloves as you wave your arms through the snow. 
Mina and Tae hop up from their spots and each hold out a hand to help you up. The mischievous look in their eyes should have given their little plan away, but somehow you took their offer anyway. Sure enough they started to help you up right before letting go and laughing as you fell back into the snow. 
You ended up having to find a way out of the snow on your own and turned to look at the little figures left in the snow. Three little angels laid out side by side, the bigger ones were messy and rough around the edges but the littlest one was perfect. “Mina, how do you make a perfect snow angel your first time?”
“Because I am an angel.” She says with a smug little grin.
“Sure you are,” you add. “Speaking of Angel, your favourite person is going to be here pretty soon.”
“Who’s coming here?”
“Angel, it’s a nickname we have for Duchess Min. A bit ironic really, but you’re supposed to be meeting with her sister-in-law and they’re all coming with.”
You’d gotten used to the duchess dropping in whenever she felt like it, but with the king finally back it seemed as though she’d finally have to announce her arrival like everyone else. It was always exciting to see her, but she made it a point to see you on as little short of notice as possible. This time you’d been in the kitchens planning menus for their stay at the palace when you were given the news.
“Excuse me Miss,” one of the younger maids interrupts “The Duke and his family have arrived.”
She had barely gotten the warning out when Duchess Min burst through the door and practically launched herself into your embrace. “Y/N darling, I’ve missed you so much! The manor has been positively dreadful without you. I swear they’re trying to drive me completely and utterly insane.”
“Angel, I’m pretty sure you were already that way when we got married,” the duke jokes from across the room.
“Oh please, I’ve had about enough of that nickname. I am a delight compared to you. Thank you very much. And besides I’ve missed my best friend, Y/N it's bad enough that you left me there all alone but now I have to deal with his bore of a sister.”
Yoongi sighed heavily at his wife’s remarks, “My Love, how many times do I have to ask you to stop calling my family whor-”
“Bore Yoongi, BORE with a B. I am quite aware of the fact that you wish to turn a blind eye to your sister’s recent flings. I however enjoy being able to express myself in the way that I see fit, so I would advise you to stop trying to censor the language I use. It’s bad enough I have to deal with your sister, I don’t need this too.”
“You’re just saying that because you want to have the manor to yourself again.”
“Yes, exactly! Because when we have the manor to ourselves we can,” she pulls her husband down by his collar and begins whispering something in his ear that makes the confident duke grow flustered.
You made it a point to clear your throat at this moment, drawing their attention away from each other for the time being. “I just wanted to remind you that I’m still here. And you’re supposed to be meeting the king to chaperone your sister and him, not planning whatever it is the two of you can’t wait to get home and tear each other's clothes off for.” 
“There’s where you’re wrong, A few of our guards are serving as chaperones. We’re here to visit you because my wife is insistent on proving another one of her theories.”
“Oh, please it’s not a theory,” the duchess scoffs. “I received very reliable information about a certain situation within the palace, and I wanted to verify it for myself. And now that we’re here it’s obvious that I was right once again.”
You can’t help but sigh at your friend once again interfering in other people’s personal lives, “What is your brilliant discovery this time?”
She beams at your choice of words, ignoring the sarcasm surrounding them, “He’s not going to take an interest in Yoonji.”
“You don’t know that, Yoonji can be sweet and charming when she wants to be. And you’ve seen how great she is at negotiating for whatever she wants. It’s a little amusing how similar the two of you are.”
She made a horrible gagging noise at this, “No I am nothing like my sister-in-law. Why would you even- Yoongi stop laughing, it’s not funny. I would not care if you compared me to anyone else, but her.”
“Very well, Angel.” you say with a smirk. “If you don’t mind me asking why do you think you’re right about this.”
“Trust me, I know how to read people and there’s something there that’s…” your friend sighed for a moment in thought. ”He’s already got someone else in mind.”
“So, how did things go with Yoonji?” You asked later that night, passing a pastry to Taehyung.
“Better, I suppose. At least this one didn’t send a marriage contract during our first meeting. I just don’t think that any of these women are what I want.”
“Tae, you have to give her a chance. At least try, maybe we could ask them to stay with us for the holidays.”
“Us?”
“Yes, there’s only a few days til Christmas and I usually take Mina to spend it with the Mins. But I was thinking maybe I could stay here this year, spend Christmas with you.”
Before you knew it, Christmas eve had arrived and the three of you had set out to mark trees for the staff to bring in. Each of you held a little red ribbon to be tied around a Christmas tree of your choice. The Mins were supposed to join, but Angel had sent a note this morning that they had all been feeling under the weather and were exhausted from last night’s festivities. 
“I think this one’s my favourite so far.”Tae announced, already choosing a tree within moments of entering the tiny forest.  “I can just see us sitting around this tree drinking cocoa and unwrapping gifts in the morning.” 
“Not in the Great Hall, it’s too small,” you felt bad the second you spotted the disappointment in his eyes and began to take the ribbon in your hand to tie around the tree. “But I haven’t picked mine yet, and maybe we can have a smaller Christmas tree just for us.”
Mina came running up to grab your hand, practically dragging you off in the opposite direction. “Y/N, look at this one! It’s small like me, I want this one!”
You take a quick lap around the miniature tree, there was no denying it’s lack of size nor it’s lack of branches. It’s top was barely past your knee, and the few branches it had were either short or nearly broken off. “Mina, I don’t know about this one.”
Tae seemed to notice the child’s disappointment from afar and rushed to make things right again. “Maybe we could put it in a planter and bring it with, so it can get even bigger and stronger.”
Mina smiled as the two of them tied the little ribbon around the tree. It became sort of a game between them at that point, trying to pick trees that were too small, large, or misshapen for the great hall. In the end the three of you had to choose quickly because it was starting to grow dark outside. 
The next morning you found that Angel and Duke Min had miraculously recovered from any ailment and were waiting in one of the parlors around the Christmas trees you had stayed up decorating the night before. They were seated as close as possible, each of them resting an arm or leg against the other. Hot cocoa steamed in the mugs on the table before them, but that was meant to be shared between the five of you.
“Where’s Yoonji?” you ask, eyeing your best friend. 
“Why are you looking at me like that? I didn’t do anything to her.” Angel looked back at Yoongi and elbowed him as if trying to remind him of something.
“She actually didn’t meddle this time, Yoonji’s not much of a morning person and she’s lucky enough to not have someone dragging her out of bed at the crack of dawn.” Despite the tone of his voice, you could tell that he wasn’t cross with his wife. You knew from experience that he would do anything if it meant making her happy. 
Angel laughs at his complaints, “Oh please, I mentioned presents and he came running down the stairs.”
“Did someone say presents?” You looked up to see Tae rounding the corner with Mina shyly trailing behind. The two of them were dragging velvety red bags filled to the brim with boxes and bags for everyone. 
Tae sat in the armchair across from all of you as Mina nestled in beside you. Reaching in the bag, Tae began to pull out gifts calling out names from the miniature tags tied to each. The room buzzed with joy as each of you began tearing open the wrappings, even Tae was overjoyed as the Min’s surprised him with the presents they had snuck in the night before. 
Finally it was your turn to surprise them, getting up to reach around the back of the tree you retrieved the four little packages you’d hidden when the decorations were brought in. “It’s not much, but I wanted to get each of you something special.”
The room filled with little gasps of joy as they each saw the personal touch you’d put into each of their gifts. The Min’s had a strict no weapons for Christmas rule after an incident years before, but there wasn’t a rule to stop you from getting Yoongi cuff links in the shape of his sword. Admittedly you had bent the rule just a little when it came to Duchess Min’s gift, the necklace of angel wings surrounding a dagger was beautiful and the matching blade was hidden in the false bottom of the jewelry box for her to find the next day. 
Tae looked at the little glass case in confusion. “It’s a snowflake, sealed and preserved between the glass. I had it made that day we were in the gardens, it was the first sign of winter at the palace and the first snow we spent together. Something about it was too perfect to let go, so I wanted to keep even a small part of that day and give it to you.”
“It’s perfect,” he took your hand in his as he lowered himself onto one knee and pulled out a small jewelry box. “If I’m being honest there was one last present I was looking forward to for a very long time. Y/N, these past months I’ve spent with you have been the happiest I’ve been in my life. You make me feel loved, and I want nothing more than to do the same for you. So please Y/N will you marry me?”
“Your majesty,” you say as you pull yourself away from him.
“Taehyung, please,” he corrected with a hushed whisper.
“No, your majesty. I can’t do this. I’ve grown to love you over these last months, but my feelings don’t matter.”
“Then what does? If we both want this, who's to tell us any differently? I don’t care about you not being a noble or any other reason you don’t feel like you aren’t enough. Because you are more than enough, I love you and that’s all that matters” he remained there on his knees as if begging you to give him a chance.
Your voice raised barely above a broken whisper, “I’m not fit to marry you, because I’m not fit to be a queen.”
“Y/N,” he said cupping your face between his hands. “You are brilliant, self-assured, and unbelievably kind. If anyone’s qualified for this it’s you.”
“That’s not what I meant, it’s more than just being good at something.”
“Then what do you mean Y/N, you can tell me anything. Just please let me in, give me a chance because I’m not just going to give up when things get difficult.”
You take his hand in yours, “Tae, it’s a long story and trust me when I say it’s better off if you don’t know. I don’t want you to think of me any differently.”
“It’s okay, nothing you say will ever change the way I see you right now. You are my world, and if you have a story you need to tell, I’m here to listen.”
“I can’t be queen because of something that happened years back, when I had first taken over the management of a noble house. One of the first things I learned was that you never say no to the baron. Anything he wanted, he got whether it was another drink, playing cards, or providing company for him and his guests. The baron I worked for took a very one sided interest in many of the women that worked for him, myself included. I’ll spare you the details, but I had my daughter nine months after he acted on this… interest.” you paused for a moment looking at his face for signs of the horror or pity you had seen in others who’d found out before him. But none of it was there, instead he held out his hand and waited for you to hold it.
With your hand in his, he gave a reassuring squeeze as if to remind you that he’s still there, “I’m alright, you can keep going if you want.”
“I had to leave the estate long before I had her, and when I returned I had to tell everyone that she wasn’t mine. We weren’t allowed to run a noble’s household if we were married or had kids, they thought it would be too much of a distraction. So I told them that she was my sister’s, she knows the truth but it’s still hard. I tried to hide it, but there’s still rumors and I can’t do that to you. This is my burden and I can deal with it, but I will not make it yours.”
“Y/N, you were right. I do see you differently now. I can see that you are more resilient than I ever thought. And I know that you would do whatever it takes to protect those you love, even if it means holding back part of your story to avoid upsetting them. You may not want to talk about what happened now, but you might someday. I want to be the person you can tell everything to… So I am asking you, forget I’m a king for a moment and please, will you marry me?”
“Taehyung I-”
From across you hear your best friend’s voice interject, “Y/N, if you don’t get it together and say yes already, I will leave my husband and marry him myself.”
“Angel, you know just as well as I do that’s not possible.”
“They didn’t need to know that,” the duchess pouts as she leans back against her husband’s chest. You chuckle at seeing them so relaxed around each other.
Tae clears his throat as if to remind you of the question still hanging heavily in the air. “Yes, a million times yes.”
As the five of you sat around the fire basking in the joy and warmth of the new engagement, the sound of carollers began to echo throughout the halls. Tae pulled you closer and the two of stayed curled up together as the Min’s began passing the cocoa around along with the flask Angel had hidden in a secret pocket. “Merry Christmas Y/N”
“Merry Christmas Tae Tae.”
107 notes · View notes
anna-justice · 3 years
Text
Lost or Found - 24
Summary: As Jay, Hailey, Kim, Adam and Kevin start their junior year in the wake of a tragic summer, the past year of their lives comes back to haunt them. If you enjoyed Pretty Little Liars, this is for you! *UPSTEAD/BURZEK High School AU
...
24 - Evermore  ...
“Your dad should have killed you when he had the chance…”
Hailey whimpered, her eyes clenched shut and beads of sweat appearing on her forehead.
“So you want to play hero one more time?” 
She flinched in her sleep, her heart beating out of her chest, so fast that she thought it was going to explode. 
“That works for me.” 
Hailey shot up, screaming. The last thing she saw was the barrel of a gun. She clawed at her chest, trying to get a good breath. “Hailey?” Someone yelled, and then right after, her Aunt appeared in front of her. “Hailey, it’s okay.” Trudy reached out to grab her hand, but Hailey pulled it back, looking at her with scared eyes. 
It had been a month since she had heard those words muttered aloud, but they plagued her dreams frequently. 
The two weeks following that day, all five of them took turns rotating through the police station. Everyday there were new questions, more people to explain things to, more statements to clarify, it was never ending. Then, it just stopped. There was nothing else they could do, they had to wait for trial. And in the meantime, Erin was placed in a psychiatric hold facility, and her lawyers were defending her actions as a symptom as psychosis.
It bothered them all, that technically she was free, all because they could blame her attempted murder on a psychotic break. Especially when Kelly Severide was looking at time. A few days after, two detectives showed up at Hailey’s house, wanting a full recount of the last five months, and that included the night that she was attacked. When Severide was questioned, he had no alibi and he confessed to strangling Hailey. His excuse was that he was threatened the same way that the rest of them were, only in person. He claimed that he knew Erin was alive the whole time, but she threatened to kill his mom and sister if he didn’t cooperate. 
Unfortunately, the only way to corroborate the story for a jury is to prove Erin mentally competent, meaning she was capable of carrying out her threats. To all involved, even Kelly, it was clear that she knew what she was doing, she was a mastermind, but to everyone on the outside, they were just a bunch of teenagers wrapped up in a murder. 
The girl that everyone thought was Erin still hadn’t been identified, they had to dig up the casket for the second time. The only way they were able to ID it the first time was by the previous fracture and bracelet, but there are a lot of people in the Chicago area that have broken their left wrist. 
So, with no new information and the date for the trial to begin still months away, they all lived life normally. Well, as normal as it could be after everything they went through. And normal for Hailey meant waking up every night screaming. 
Trudy looked at her husband, who was standing in the doorway. They shared a look, a very familiar one. They repeated the same steps every night, like some cruel rehearsed dance. Trudy waited patiently for Hailey to calm down, just seated on the floor next to her. “Hailey, sweetie, you’re safe.” She repeated. 
Every night it was the same, Hailey would snap out of whatever daze she was in and apologize profusely. “I’m sorry, I got scared…” She started.
“Shhh,” Trudy said, placing a hand on her leg, “It’s okay.” 
Hailey nodded, swallowing hard. “I’m good, you all can go back to sleep.” She said, glancing at her uncle. 
Trudy just nodded, she learned many nights ago not to fight her on it, “Alright. Goodnight Hailey, we love you.” She said, squeezing her shoulder. 
“Love you too.” Hailey said, watching them retreat back to their room. They left the door open like they always did, Hailey sighed rolling over and grabbing her phone. She sent a quick text to her boyfriend. 
Hailey:      :(
It was a system that they started a few weeks ago. The first few nights Jay would stay up with her on the phone, or she would call him after Trudy and Randy finally left, but the lack of sleep began to play a part in their relationship. So, they decided that every time Hailey had a nightmare (or Jay, he wasn’t clean of them) they would text the other a frowny face, so that in the morning they would know what the other had gone through the night before without having to talk about it. It has proved to be useful.
Hailey laid down again, willing herself to close her eyes, but she couldn’t. Sleep was too vulnerable, so she laid there awake, just waiting for the sun to rise on (hopefully) a better day. 
“What do you mean you haven’t picked out a costume?” Kim asked, as Jay slammed his door shut. Like every morning, they were all crowded around his truck, waiting until the last minute to head to class. The gossip still hadn’t died down, they were still the topic of every conversation, so they avoided it as much as they could. 
Hailey shrugged. “I thought we weren’t dressing up.” She said, looking up at her boyfriend, who nodded in agreement. Halloween was tomorrow, and of course Kim had plans for all of them.
“No, I said we weren’t dressing up as the characters from scooby doo…” Kim said, giving Adam a pointed look. 
Adam held up his hands in surrender, “Like I said, I’m sorry, it’s too soon.” He said, stifling a laugh. 
Kevin rolled his eyes, “Yeah, you all know I’d have to be scooby. And I’m not dressing up like a dog.” He snapped. 
“But Kev,” Adam said, faking a frown. “I thought you were my dawg.” Kevin glared at him, faking a punch as Adam jumped back. 
“Anyway,” Kim started, looking back at Hailey and Jay, and ignoring the antics behind her. “I promised Stella we would all be at her party tomorrow night, you guys will be the only people without a costume.” 
Hailey sighed, “Kim, we will get costumes, I promise.” Kim opened her mouth, but the warning bell cut her off. Hailey smiled, grabbing Jay’s hand. “We’ll see you guys later.” She said, before pulling him away. 
“Please tell me you have costume ideas,” Jay said quietly. 
“Nope.” They rounded the corner, Jay leaning down and stealing a kiss before they entered their classroom. Criminal justice was a little harder to sit through than it was before, but somehow Jay had managed to get his grade up. 
They took their normal seats in the back of the class, waiting for the teacher to begin. “I have an idea,” Jay said, leaning on his hand. 
“Okay?” Hailey said cautiously. 
“I’ll be a firefighter, and you be a Dalmatian.” He said, wiggling his eyebrows. 
Hailey scoffed, “No.” 
“Okay. You be the firefighter and I’ll be the Dalmatian.” He said, smirking.
Hailey shook her head, “Try again.” Jay fake pouted, retreating back to his half of the shared desk. 
Finally, their teacher decided to start class, cutting their conversation off for the time being. After about 30 minutes of notes, he passed out an assignment, leaving them to work on their own. Jay turned to face her, smiling. “I’ve got another idea.” He said, Hailey gave him a pointed look. “Squints and the lifeguard from the sandlot.” 
“Why? So every time someone asks us who we are you get to lay on the ground and make me kiss you?” She questioned. 
“Exactly.” He deadpanned. 
“Jay-”
“Okay, okay.” He said, laughing. He loved it when she got all riled up. “Peter Pan and Tinkerbell, cause you’re so short-”
“Jay!” She said, smacking his bicep. 
He laughed harder, “Okay, in all seriousness...we can be Jack and Rose from the titanic…” He watched Hailey’s face slowly morph into slight agreeance, “And Kev could be the iceberg.” 
“I’m done with you.” Hailey said shortly, stifling her own laugh. 
Jay laughed at his own joke, watching his girlfriend pretend to be aggravated with him. “You love me, you know it.” 
“Unfortunately…” Hailey said under her breath. She took a deep breath, “What about Danny and Sandy from Grease?” 
Jay smirked, “You in leather pants? Perfect.” 
“You’re hopeless.” 
The next day, Hailey sat in Kim’s bedroom getting ready. They had about an hour before the boys were supposed to come pick them up. Kim and Adam were going as Romeo and Juliet, while Hailey and Jay had finally settled on Rapunzel and Flynn Rider. Kevin had grouped up with some of the boys from his team, they were going as zombie football players, very original…
“Kim, you’re going to have to do this.” Hailey said, laughing in defeat. 
Kim smiled, taking over for her. She was waiting for her to ask for help, she’d been struggling to french braid her hair for almost twenty minutes. “I got it.” They sat there for a while in silence, Kim carefully laying pieces of blonde hair over the others, she glanced at Hailey in the mirror, noticing the blank look on her face. “How are you doing?”
Hailey’s head snapped up to meet her eyes, she caught her off guard. “Uh,” She shrugged, “I’m okay, I guess…” 
Kim scoffed, shaking her head. “I’ve said that word so many times recently that I’m not even sure it’s a word anymore.” 
“Yeah…” Hailey said, letting her thoughts wander. “I get that.” And she did, it was like she used the word as a shield. It was her response to everything, and she wasn’t okay, not that it was really a secret. None of them were okay, but saying it made it feel like they were. And deception was something worth clinging onto. 
“You know, we never talked about-” 
“We don’t need to.” Hailey said, cutting her off. 
Kim eyed her cautiously, “Okay.” She wanted to talk, but she didn’t feel like she had any right to push Hailey to. Not after what happened. “Done.” She said, a few minutes later, taking a step back to admire her work.
“Thanks,” Hailey said with a genuine smile, picking up the jar of flower clips they had bought that morning. “You think I should just put these everywhere?” 
Kim nodded, “Yeah, I think so.” She reached down, clicking shuffle on a playlist, a random Taylor Swift song playing. They were both done talking. 
An hour later, the two of them were sitting in Kim’s kitchen talking to her mom when Jay and Adam arrived. Adam just let himself in the front door, Jay choked on a laugh as he waltzed in like he owned the place. 
The boys appeared in the kitchen, “Honey, I’m home.” He said, passing Kim and hugging her mom. Kim rolled her eyes as they all laughed, Jay’s hand finding Hailey’s back like it always did. He was so happy, even though life was still crazy, he was ridiculously happy. Watching Hailey smile and Adam joke around like he used to (before they used it as a distraction) was so nice, and familiar and just so damn good. 
Hailey peered up at him, grinning as he pecked her lips. “Alright, let’s get a picture so you all can get out of here.” Claire said, ushering them together. Jay stood next to Adam, both of them holding their girlfriends securely against their waists. They all smiled brightly, relaxing after the click. 
They quickly bid their goodbyes, making their way out to Jay’s truck. Hailey slid easily into the passenger seat, despite her nude heels (that she was already regretting), while Adam and Kim got in the back. They pulled out of the driveway, and somehow Adam ended up with aux cord. Somewhere in between an old Maroon 5 song and the Weekend, Jay’s hand found hers on the center console. 
Hailey looked down at it and smiled. It was a simple thing that they did every single time they rode together, but it really symbolized how much things had changed. Hailey thought back to the day that he kept his eyes trained on the road, back when she cut him off when he tried to apologize. It was only two months ago, but they were different, everything was different, everything was better. 
 Jay followed her gaze to their conjoined hands, mimicking her smile. She didn’t have to say anything, he knew exactly what she was thinking. Part of him wishes he could go back and stay with her then, he felt like they had wasted so much time, but the other part of him knew that they were better for it. Neither of them were ready for what they have now, then. And what they have was worth the wait. 
Finally they reached their destination, Jay having the park pretty far away due to how many people were already there. They got out, Jay rounding the truck to help Hailey down, even though she hadn’t needed it in a long time. The four of them headed towards the decent sized house, they could hear the music thumping from outside. Hailey slipped her hand in Jay’s, gripping his forearm. 
Jay noticed the look of discomfort on her face, leaning down. “Hey, you okay?” He asked, eying her. 
Hailey nodded, holding on a little tighter. “Yeah, just don’t want to get lost in the crowd.” Jay nodded, believing her lie. She couldn’t really explain it, but she had a terrible feeling in her stomach and the thought of being lost in a sea of people made her want to throw up. Even though it was over, Hailey still found herself looking over her shoulder and watching out for her. And even though all of that meant she was nowhere near being in a party mood, she wasn’t going to bring everyone else down, they all needed a fun night. 
They made their way through the crowded makeshift dance floor, and found Kevin in a living area near the back of the house where he was sitting with Stella, Conner, Matt and Sylvie. “Hey guys,” He called, jumping up and clapping Adam’s back. 
Stella stood, hugging Kim tightly, “I’m glad you guys could make it.” 
Kim squeezed her, “Me too.”
Stella backed away, touching Hailey’s arm affectionately and giving her a kind smile that she returned. “I know it’s kind of crazy,” Stella laughed, “If you need something or just a break, the keys to the upstairs doors are hidden right under the doors, just inside the rooms.” She glanced at the obvious couples, winking. “I trust you guys.” 
They all nodded, Kim blushing, a chorus of “great” and “thanks” sounding. The group dispersed, the five of them huddling up. “Obviously Hailey and I are gonna stick together, if we get lost, meet back here at midnight and we’ll head out?” Jay suggested.
“Sounds good,” Kev said, nodding.
Adam agreed too. “That works for me.” 
That works for me…
Hailey flinched at those words, instinctively squeezing her eyes shut. Her breath caught in her throat. The image of a pulled gun flashing through her brain. She grimaced, trying to push the thoughts away. “Hailes…” She took another deep breath, doing everything in her power to keep her fear at bay. “Hailes.” Someone said, harsher, snapping her out of her daze. 
“Yeah?” She asked quickly. 
Kim eyed her cautiously, “I asked if you wanted a water…”
“Oh,” Hailey shook her head, “No, I’m good, thanks though.” She watched as Kim and Adam slowly disappeared into the crowd, her eyebrowed cinched together. 
Jay stepped in front of her, blocking her view of the rest of the room, “Are you sure you’re okay?” He asked, concern clear in his bright green eyes. 
Hailey nodded vigorously, “I’m good, I promise.” She said, his face didn’t change. He didn’t believe her. Hailey reached up, pulling him to her level and attaching their lips. She wrapped her arms around his neck as she deepened it, pulling him even closer. Jay did his best not to get lost in the kiss, but with her it was so hard. She pulled away slowly, peering up at him. “Jay, I’m okay.” Kim was right, it didn’t sound like a word anymore. 
Jay sighed, admitting defeat. “Okay.” He laced their hands together, leaning down and kissing her slowly before guiding her to the dance floor. They stood near the edge, Jay’s hand sitting on her hips as they swayed in sync to the fast music. They danced for a while before some of Jay’s teammates interrupted them. 
Hailey stood securely at his side as they spoke, absently listening to the trashy rap music that was playing loudly throughout the room. “Fuck, shit, bitch…” The sound of a gun being cocked rang through the speakers and Hailey screamed. Suddenly the eyes of everyone around her staring at her. She was frozen in place, forcing the terrible memories away, but she couldn’t. 
“Hailey.” Jay said, but her feet had a mind of their own and she was running towards the staircase, her lungs burning, she couldn’t get in a good breath. “Hailey!” Jay called after her, not even bothering to say goodbye to his team before taking off. 
Hailey booked it up the stairs, dropping to the ground in front of the first door she saw, grasping aimlessly for the key. She slumped against the door, tears streaming down her face as she fought to breathe. Jay booked it towards her, crouching down and finding the key easily. He unlocked the door, then swept his hysterical girlfriend off the floor, carrying her into the room and setting her on the bed. She was still heaving in front of him, and Jay placed two hands on either side of her face. “Hailey, Hailey look at me.” He said, but her eyes stayed trained on his chest. “Baby, you’re safe, look at me, please.” She clenched her eyes shut, more tears falling down her face. When she opened them again, they met his and she launched herself into his arms. 
Jay held her to him, rocking them gently as she cried into his neck. “I-I thought-” She stuttered, sobs wracking her body. 
“I know, I know.” He said, trying to calm her. 
“I thought it was over…” She said, and Jay felt his heart clench in his chest. 
He ran his hand through her braided hair, no doubt destroying it. “It is, it’s all over, you’re safe. We’re safe.” For some reason that made her cry harder, maybe because she hadn’t for the past month, she had been bottling up her feelings to protect herself and everyone else. Because even though she was, she hadn’t felt safe in a long time. 
Hailey pulled away after a long time, utterly exhausted. Jay couldn’t take the look of defeat on her safe, she looked so tired, so broken, that it scared him. How could he not have known how much pain she was in? 
She couldn’t bear to look at him, so she kept her gaze fixed on her lap. He placed his hand on her thigh, and Hailey laid one on top of it. She sniffled, using her free hand to wipe the never ending tears from her eyes. “I’m okay.”
The following Monday, Hailey sat in the passenger seat of Jay’s truck. After the events of Saturday night, Jay had no choice but to loop in Trudy and Randall, he had to after he had failed to do so before. They spent the rest of the weekend convincing Hailey to see someone, to talk about everything they had been through. 
It was probably the trauma left over from her parents, but the stigma that therapy made you weak was ingrained in Hailey’s mind, and convincing her to make an appointment was no easy task. 
That’s how they ended up sitting in the parking lot of a private practice right after school, Hailey’s leg bouncing nervously up and down. Jay lifted their intertwined hands off the center console, kissing the back of hers. “I’m going to be here waiting, all I ask is that you go in there and try.” He said, rubbing his thumb over the back of her hand. 
Hailey smiled softly, nodding. She leaned across the console and kissed him slowly, hoping that she was able to portray just how much love she had for him and trust she had in him through it. Jay pulled away, taking her in. “I love you, Hailey Upton.” 
“I love you, Jay Halstead.” She said. 
“Now, go kick some ass.” He said and she laughed, opening the truck door. She shut it, giving him one last look before walking inside the doors. 
She sat down in one of the waiting room chairs after signing in, a few minutes later an older man with big glasses popped his head out of the back. “Hailey?” 
She stood, “Yes sir.”
The man smiled, “Come with me.” He led her back to an office, gesturing for her to sit on the couch while he sat in the chair across from her. “I’m Dr. Charles, but you can call me Daniel or Dan, or really whatever makes you comfortable.” He explained. 
Hailey nodded, shifting nervously. “So, how does this work?” She asked.
“However you want it to, we can talk or not talk about anything you want.” He said, leaning back in his chair. 
“Okay,” Hailey glanced at the ground, “The-There’s a lot…” 
“That’s okay.” 
Hailey grimaced, finally looking at him. “Where do I start?” She asked.
Dr. Charles smiled. “How about the beginning?”
Hailey sighed, taking a few deep breaths, ready to start confronting all the demons that she had been fighting for so long. 
“Tell me everything.”
...
A/N: This is long but please, please, please read it!!
First, this is the end of this story, but it is not THE end! There will be a sequel and if you want to see a sneak peak, you can find it HERE. I am so so excited to continue exploring this version of these characters, and don’t worry, the next installment will be just as exciting as this one! 
Second, thank you so so so so much to everyone who has shown love to and supported this story. It really means the world to me, you have no idea. This has been such an amazing experience and I have learned so much from writing this, so thank you so much for reading. You guys are truly incredible, and writing has helped me through a tough time in my life. I’m going to say thank you a million time, but thank you, thank you, thank you <3
This story evolved so much lol: in the beginning I had no plan, and then it changed like five times, and we ended up here, so here’s a few things that didn’t make it in.
Nadia was supposed to die in chapter 19, but I decided against it…
I debated Kevin and Stella getting together, don’t hate me for this ahaha
I almost made Kim lose her hearing, but I wasn’t sure I could do the storyline justice with everything else going on
I debated killing Adam (I’M SORRY, i’m sorry…)
And finally (cause you don’t need to know all of my secrets) I ALMOST broke up Upstead at the end
Anyway, there’s some behind the scenes action if you’re interested. 
Back to the point: THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR SUPPORTING ME AND THIS STORY, I LOVE EVERY SINGLE ONE OF YOU FROM THE BOTTOM OF MY HEART, and i cannot wait to embark on this next journey together!!
So much love,
Anna
@lissethsrojas @puckluck28 @fuckyeahkillianemma @chilly7188 @thebigapocalypsewolf @karihighman @ruzek-halstead @anotheronechicagobog @snowwhite013 @tracysupton @angelsjedi @carissalizz​
51 notes · View notes
Text
And In Darkness, I Stand- Chapter 4
Kallus' leg is never quite the same after Bahryn. But then again, neither is he.
1  2 3 4 5
4. Yavin IV
“Captain Kallus.”
Kallus turns the best he can, gripping the handle of his cane as he does. Zeb is making his way over, his tall frame parting the flow of traffic in the hall.
“Kal,” Zeb amends with a smile, brushing a hand against the small of Kallus’ back. “Congratulations.”
“Thank you,” Kallus nods, and grimaces. “I don't suppose I can use my position to get out of physical therapy?”
“No. I’ll still carry you there myself if I have to.”
Heat flames across Kallus’ cheek, but there’s nothing he can say to defend himself. His daily routine has been centered around his recovery for weeks, despite his protestations. On his first day back, he reported to Command for an extra few hours rather than going to the medbay, which caused a small uproar among the likes of Hera and Zeb. The resulting situation was a lecture from Zeb and the entire medical staff, as well as a warning from Command as to where his priorities should lie.
But aside from the initial excitement, Kallus has settled in quite well. He has his own post and a small command to his name. He’s been forgiven by the Rebels in an official capacity, and has learned when to ignore the snide comments made by his less-forgiving compatriots. For the most part, his job is normal and steady- he’s in the company of fellow spies most of the time, but everyone on Yavin is well acquainted with danger, regardless of their roles within the Rebellion. He nearly fits in.
It would be better if he were not so limited by his physical ability. He cannot stand on his leg unsupported, so he has been using a cane constantly, save for a few small excursions across his quarters, which, so far, have been painful and short-lived.
Suddenly, Kallus is bad at keeping himself out of trouble, between his efforts to heal and his apparently lacking self-care habits. This is yet another change he attributes to rebel influence, but he rather likes it, even if he is adjusting to this new life slowly.
“You’re improving and you’re not going to stop now,” Zeb growls. He may as well be threatening Kallus, who minds this fact very little. His hand tightens on his cane.
“I know,” Kallus breathes, and drops his gaze. His next step forward is slightly unsteady, but he’s overly aware of Zeb watching him closely and that his friend is fully prepared to catch him should he trip.
Kallus hasn’t fallen in weeks. He can make it all the way across base without needing to rest now. The medics say the fracture is largely healed, and he thinks he must have made some kind of progress over the last few weeks.
“Are you coming with me?” Kallus tries not to sound too hopeful or excited; Zeb usually accompanies him to the medcenter for checkups and therapy, if only to ensure that Kallus himself actually attends.
“Of course.” Zeb glances at him. “‘Til you say you don’t want me there.”
“I do,” Kallus affirms, too quickly, and tries to discern if he’s blushing again. His face still feels hot.
They make their way down to the medcenter, where the staff greets him and Zeb both by name. The journey takes longer than he’d like, and Kallus tries not to count how many people pass him. It’s mid-afternoon by then, and his leg has started to twinge, although he turns away from Zeb and bites the inside of his cheek to get through the moments of pain.
Zeb steadies him as he strips off his jacket and boots, clutching Kallus’ left elbow. Kallus shoots him a grateful smile. He wobbles on one leg, unsteady, and he knows he will not fall.
“Ready?”
It’s not Zeb who asks, but a nurse. Cida Amada, who was one of the first people he got to know during his stay in the medcenter. She barely looks old enough to have such responsibility, with her shy smiles and soft tones, but she and Kallus took a liking to each other. They made each other cry, he lost in frustration and agony, and she hurt after discovering his tendency to yell and swear when in crippling pain. Yet once he had apologized, their relationship improved, and Amada became his primary caretaker, which most predominantly includes cajoling him into showing up for his appointments.
She and Zeb seem to adore each other for this fact. Kallus can only pretend he hates it so much.
He nods, his mouth suddenly dry, and she reaches out to take his hand. He lets her, and Cida smiles at him, not meeting his eyes for more than a few seconds.
“It’ll feel better later even if it’s uncomfortable right now, Alexsandr. How have the last few rotations been?”
She is gentle and kind. Forgiving, too, which is the strangest of offerings he’s even been gifted in his life. Kallus mostly expected to be dead by now, rather than guided through a half-stocked medbay by a medic exclusively trained by war doctors. Cida genuinely likes him, too, which is odd. Both Hera and Zeb had to assure him of this fact, though Kallus is sure she wouldn’t be capable of pretending otherwise. He first had doubts about the girl’s abilities as a liar since she apologized for taking a blood sample from him. She is too good to lie, which, he supposes, is why he’s a former Imperial-turned-spy, and she is a rebel war doctor.
Cida stretches his legs and guides him through a few exercises that should be simple but prove exceedingly difficult for Kallus. He has to touch his toes. Climb stairs. Walk 2 meters with support on either side. He grits his teeth and sweats through it, mumbling curses that Cida and Zeb pretend not to hear when he inevitably falters.
His hands shake for an hour afterward. Kallus showers and lies on his bunk, exhausted.
His leg feels better than it did before.
 Had he stayed with the Empire, Kallus would have received higher quality medical care.
He might not be stuck with a limp and a cane. 
First, he would have needed to swallow his damned pride and ask for treatment, and then the initial break would not have affected him for the rest of his life. The Imperial meddroids would have returned him to normal in a matter of days, if not weeks, and Thrawn would have never rebroken the leg, even if Kallus had pursued life as Fulcrum. The Empire is equipped with better resources and better training.
But he didn’t ask for help, not upon his return from Bahryn nor any of the painful days after. Konstantine didn’t even look up at him. If anyone noticed he was uncomfortable or weaker, they politely looked away and saved that topic of discussion for when his back was turned. Kallus was alone in caring for himself, and it was thus unimportant to everyone in the Empire, including him. He adopted the same attitude regarding his own health.
Hera had caught him when he collapsed, after Atollon. Cida cried when he cried because she hated seeing him in pain. Zeb has been there for him in more ways than he can count.
Sometimes, Zeb calls him Alex. He hasn’t had that nickname since he was a little boy- his parents never bothered with it and he had few friends by the time he entered the Imperial Academy.
Zeb is the only one, in his entire life, who has called him Kal.
That’s yet another thing they share. Kallus has gleamed that Zeb never fully revealed the truth of what happened on Bahryn, even to the rest of the Ghost crew.
He does not know what would be enough to repay the Rebels. They have so little, yet they give to him, in time and effort and supplies and trust. It would be more just if these things were diverted to another, not to a formal Imperial, but they will not let him refuse their generosity.
Kallus would give his life for these people. For Zeb and the Spectres, certainly, but for those he does not know, too. For the ones who hurl dirty looks and harsh words at him in the mess and hallways, for Cida, for the other Fulcrums, for every rebel on Yavin and the galaxy beyond.
His life would not be enough, when they are the very people who have given it back to him. Kallus’ life is marred and stained and broken. He can offer the rebels service and secrets and loyalty, and he will do all he can to see them to victory. 
He wonders about that, too. He would be more confident about winning the war were he still an Imperial agent. He is a man of facts and logic, and he knows that the odds are against the rebels to prevail over the Empire.
But he believes in the rebels. Kallus believes in their cause and their people. That alone has carried them further than Kallus ever predicted.
He would give his life for them without thinking. He gives his hope and keeps his doubt and his cynicism, heavy as they are, so that they do not burden those like Pica and Leia Organa and Ezra Bridger.
Even as a rebel, being a spy still demands a certain mindset of coldness and hardness. Kallus is learning mercy, and he is learning how mercy does and doesn’t fit into his role. Draven has told him more than once that they serve the cause of the Rebellion, not its people.
Kallus is not sure he agrees. Draven has the end of the war in sight, and that is what grants Kallus peace of mind while the familiarity of Draven’s words nags at him.
Draven has also told Kallus that he is still useful, despite his leg. The General had looked at Kallus with pity while he had said it. Kallus will prove him wrong, and his heart sings with a small amount of pride with the knowledge of the difference he has made already under and to Draven’s command.
Kallus is trying to be good in his new role. He is also trying to become someone worthy of the friendship and care that the rebels have shown him.
He wants to be accepted by them. He wants to be their friend.
 “Alexsandr!”
The use of his full first name startles him, nearly as much as the alarm in Zeb’s voice does. Zeb is staring at him from across the hangar, Hera by his size. The droid, Chopper, makes some obscene noise that Kallus can only assume is scolding.
The trio is at his side quickly, and Kallus grunts as he loads the shipment onto the shuttle.
“I can do that,” Hera says. She sounds mildly scandalized, and she takes the box from his hands. Chopper wags his mechanical arm at Kallus, and emits a horrifying cackle at the indignation on his face.
“No cane?” Zeb sounds surprised, but Kallus has had a good few days. He’s permitted not to use it for short amounts of time, given that his leg doesn’t start hurting. He and Cida are hoping that this will become the norm, that he will only need his cane some days. Kallus has floated the idea of field missions once or twice already, but he’ll push for more unsupervised walking first.
“Not for a while.” It’s nearly strange not to have the cane in his hand, but he’s been making good use of his free hands for a while. Then: “General, I assure you I am very capable of doing that.”
Kallus tries to take the next box from Hera, who passes to Zeb. In turn, he holds the box over their heads, then sets it in the shuttle.
“You could hurt yourself,” Hera chides. “Let us help you.”
“Lifting a few crates will hardly send me into critical condition,” Kallus protests, but the words are weakened when Hera glares at him. Chopper laughs again. “My leg is injured, not my arms.”
“No extra weight,” Zeb reminds him, taking another box from Hera. “Don’t strain yourself.”
“It’s just-”
“We’re happy to help,” Hera interrupts. She exchanges a look with Zeb, and Kallus bites back a retort. He’s perfectly capable.
The next time he sees Cida, Kallus is sure to mention lightening the restrictions on his carrying weight. She’s willing to negotiate, at the very least, and they argue until it’s agreed that Kallus can lift, but not carry, a few kilos. He’s sure to complain very little for the rest of the session, and the nurse sends him away with a smile at the end of the day.
She tells him he’s making progress; a statement constantly echoed by Zeb. Physical therapy becomes easier and less frequent; he’s fully adjusted to using his cane, although he has started to go many days without it. At first, it’s painful- he can only endure the day without his cane if he stays in Command, but then weeks pass and he can move around base on his own. He’s outfitted with temporary mechanical braces, and he goes on his first field mission as a rebel.
The days are not bad, and the initial mission goes smoothly, as do all the ones after that.
When night falls after he returns, Kallus can barely stand, and the pain reduces him mostly immobile.
Cida worms this fact out of him after he spends two rotations chasing down a rogue informant. He had been late to see her, and stiff and quiet during their appointment.
“You’ll make it worse,” she warns him. His leg has been swelling, too. “Too much at once will only hurt you.”
“I’m useful out there,” Kallus insists, staring at his injured leg. It would be a waste if he remained on base all the time. “If I can get stronger, then I can fight.”
Cida sighs, her eyes full of worry. Kallus looks away, his heart poisoned with guilt. “If you keep doing this, you may last a few months or a cycle. After that, you could spend the rest of your life walking with pain and assistance.”
He nods once. That’s as much time as he needs, regardless of what follows.
Kallus has greater potential than what his leg allows. He could be one of the best ground fighters on base, if his body worked right.
 “Does your leg hurt?”
Kallus grunts. “My leg always hurts.” He shifts, moving his lower body as little as possible, but Zeb moves into his full view a moment later.
“You shoulda said something on way back-”
“I’m fine, Zeb.”
“Your cane-”
“It hurts with or without the cane,” Kallus snaps, then averts his eyes. Zeb’s ears flatten, and Kallus’ stomach flips.
“Are you gonna use it now?” Zeb asks quietly. They still don’t look at each other.
Kallus reaches for the offending object and thumps it against the ground. “Yes,” he mutters. That’s the only reason he got here, in some dirty corner of the base. The cane saw him back from the medbay and into the spot where he had chosen to sulk.
Apparently, the covert location wasn’t quite private enough. That, or Zeb knows him too well, because he seems to have sought Kallus out with ease. But here he is, sitting on the floor with Kallus and watching the rest of the Rebellion walk by, totally oblivious to their discussion.
“Today is a bad day,” Kallus says. That’s how he measures time- in good days and bad ones. “I’ve been having a lot of those, recently.”
“You’ve been working hard.”
“I want to go back to normal,” Kallus mutters, rolling his eyes. “I’m sick of being weak. I’m tired.” He smiles at Zeb, his lips thin and pursed. “I’m done.”
“Alex.” Zeb is imploring.”How could you think you’re weak?”
“Because I can’t walk down the damned hallway!” Kallus scoffs. “Because I have gone through all this suffering and I am not better! And all I wish is that it would end!”
“That makes you weak, does it?”
“It doesn’t make me strong, Garazeb. Not the way you think I am.”
The Lasat next to him snorts. “Kal, I have seen you walk through hell and back-”
“That doesn’t make-”
“- I know how strong you are,” Zeb finishes, talking over him. “Do you trust me?”
Kallus blanches, his heart pounding. “Of course.”
“Then believe me when I say you’re strong.”
“I’ve never seen it that way.”
The words are nearly inaudible. It’s a shamefaced confession, and Zeb stares at him with wide eyes, taking both of Alexsandr’s hands in his.
“Just because I survived doesn’t mean I’m a martyr, Zeb. Or some inspiration to look up to.”
“That’s half of one of the many reasons I care for you,” Zeb whispers, his voice so, so low. “Not because you’ve managed to survive, but because of how determined you are. It’s the stupid face you make when you’re concentrating and the way your voice gets all high when you tell me about how fine and capable you are.” Zeb chuckles, and Kallus is very acutely aware that Zeb is sitting so close to him that their thighs are touching. “You’ve always been so damn stubborn.”
“You like that about me?” Some alarmed voice in Alexsandr’s head warns him that this is barely tangential to the topic at hand.
“Yeah.” Zeb’s ears twitch, and he drops his eyes from Kallus’ wondrous stare. “Even if it pisses me off.”
“I know it does.”
“Yeah,” Zeb growls, then he deflates as he sighs. “I’ve always known that about you. Even when you were trying to kill me.” He gestures to Kallus, to his brace and cane. “Seeing you recover is another way you’re proving this to me. Your absurd relentlessness. And your strength.” He glowers at Kallus when he says the last word, as if daring him to object. “You’ve always had that.”
“Someone better would have handled it with grace.”
“Maybe.” Zeb shrugs. “You’re tough, not a saint.”
“Thank you, Garazeb.”
Zeb rolls his eyes, shoving against Kallus’ shoulder gently. “Whatever.” He clears his throat. “Maybe all this made you stronger. I don’t care if you get back to normal, or whatever you’ve dreamed up for yourself. I only want you to be happy with where you were.”
“And go to physical therapy.”
“I don’t want you to be in pain.”
“Right.”
Zeb grins. “By the way, if you didn’t want the hurt from your serious injury to go away, then you’re twice as big of an idiot as I thought you were. I have no idea what else you expected.”
“I expected for it to last a few weeks. Not the rest of my life.”
“There’s nothing wrong with wishing for that.” Zeb looks up at the trees, and Kallus thinks of a burning world, razed to the ground by the Empire. Zeb didn’t come away from Lasan unscathed, he knows. “Whatever happens though, here you are, Kal. Even if all you’ve done is survive.”
Alexsandr reaches out for Zeb’s hand, and his friend takes it. Zeb’s words are muddled with affection and friendship and respect. The person Zeb describes sounds like someone Kallus can appreciate. Somebody with an iron will and a conviction for the right kind of things. Somebody worthy of love
 That night, Kallus cannot rest. He wanders the halls, on a dreadfully familiar path- the one Zeb takes him on when Kallus has to stretch out his leg. His feet carry him into the cool night air, his cane thumping against the stone after every uneven step.
Kallus searches for privacy, but he cannot make it far outside the base. There are still lights blinking from the hangars and a quiet bustle of nightlife shows that the base is still busy, but Kallus staggers along as far as he can and settles on a log under the cover of some trees.
“Can’t sleep?”
Alexsandr jumps, then he squints in the dark. Some 30 feet away is Kanan Jarrus, sitting on the forest floor with his legs folded beneath him. He appears to be meditating; his shoulder pauldrons and mask are off, and he sounds relaxed.
“I didn’t mean to disturb you,” Kallus calls. He fumbles with his cane and readies himself to stand; he’s still slightly out of breath and now he has nowhere to go.
“No.” Kanan stands instead and approaches Kallus, nimbly stepping over branches and rocks. Kallus stares up at the blind Jedi, then averts his gaze when Kanan takes a seat next to him.
They sit together in silence. Kallus doesn’t mind the company very much; he fiddles with his hands and does his best to ignore the aching in his leg.
“It’s lonely, isn’t it?” Kanan says finally. He turns to Kallus expectantly.
Kallus gives a nervous chuckle. “What is?”
“Healing.” Kanan opens his hands as if he’s referring to the whole jungle, instead. “Even with the people who love you at your side.”
Kallus opens his mouth to protest- he’s not sure who loves him, even if a few people come to mind- but the depth of Kanan’s words hit him a moment later.
“I don’t-” Kallus struggles for the right words. “I don’t believe I’m alone.”
Kanan nods slowly. “I had Hera with me every step of the way. She’s the most understanding, caring person I know.” Then, Kanan shrugs. “But it was impossible for her to understand what it was like, no matter how hard she tried. It was lonely.”
“Yes,” Kallus says slowly, exhaling.  “Even- even-”
“Zeb doesn’t understand?” He can hear the humor in Kanan’s voice, although Kallus cannot piece together why Kanan would be amused. “I think that’d be impossible unless he’d been through it, too.”
“Do you know anyone who did?”
Kanan shakes his head. “Not quite.” He smiles, and again, Kallus can’t comprehend why. “I had to find solace in other places.”
“Do you think you’re on the other side?”
“Of recovery?” Kallus inclines his head. “Yes. It’s different now.” Kanan’s smile becomes wistful. “But there’s no going back.”
“You made it through.”
“I did. And you will too. In time.”
“I want it to be over.” The confession falls from Kallus’ lips before he can help it. “I’m so tired of being in pain.”
“I know.”
“I don’t think it will ever pass.”
“And if it doesn’t?”
“Then…” Kallus sighs. “Then I move forward with it, anyway.”
There’s no other choice. He will stay with the rebels until the end, and he will do so however he can. He could lose his leg tonight or he could wake up entirely healed tomorrow morning. Either way, there will be little change to his plans.
“I thought you’d say that.” Kanan rests his hand on Kallus’ knee. “It gets easier.”
“I know.” It has already. Maybe Zeb is right. Maybe he is strong because of what he has survived, and maybe there’s truth to Kanan’s words, too. 
“I think you’ll find someone who makes it less lonely. I believe you’ll find yourself on the other side.”
Kallus bows his head in acknowledgment, suddenly exhausted. “Zeb will be yours again, once we get back from Lothal.” Kanan’s seriousness disappears, and Kallus knows the moment has passed. He can’t help that the corners of his lips are quirking up, and Kanan seems to both know and enjoy this fact.
“You leave soon?” The thought is bittersweet; the Lothal rebels returning home again, and Zeb will leave his side.
“Three rotations.” Kanan answers. His tone has become heavy again, but the Jedi does not sound afraid.
“I wish you luck.”
The earliest sign of civilization is a healed femur.
56 notes · View notes
kindiekritz · 3 years
Text
Get Some Rest, Samurai...
Via Anon Ask; “because im also a sap for Johnny and V- How do you think Johnny would help V cope with a panic attack? Especially when its likely something he's feeling laggy echoes of himself if he's in her head during it? (hurt/comfort is a FAVE of mine and i have anxiety, can ya' tell?)”
B ro,, don’t worry anon bc same here, we are anxiety homies together 👏😔 - This is my first time writing for Johnny Silverhand! Trying to get back on the writing boat, (haven't forgotten my previous fic!) and there's nothing like simping for video game characters to get that inspiration flowing. Do let me know what you think! Johnny may be a bit too OOC in this, I may have gone a little bit overboard with the soft? Ah well, I hope someone will enjoy it regardless :P
Here is the Ao3 Link! :D
V’s time was running out. 
Every time the relic in their head would malfunction, every time they went into a coughing fit and the disgusting taste of metallic blood would fill their mouth, every time he would manifest himself in her head and V would catch a glimpse of his stupid fucking face…
V was reminded of the fact that their time was running out, and fast.
And despite the fact that they were doing everything in their power to stop the construct in her mind from completely destroying her from the inside out, that didn’t stop the fact that she still had to pay the rent. 
In fact, it wasn’t cheap coughing up the eddies to pay Rouge for her services, or having to pay for bigger and better gear that would keep her alive when dealing with Arasaka guards, hell, it wasn’t cheap to keep purchasing more and more bottles of Omega Blockers, the pills were the only thing that kept him from completely taking control. 
She found herself taking more and more gigs, trying to simply keep up with the extra costs of having a completely second personality living rent-free in her mind. But even then… she couldn’t find it in herself to reject or turn away people who needed her help, even if they had little to nothing to offer in return. 
It seemed as if her phone was constantly buzzing with calls and texts of people who wanted and needed her help. No matter where she went or what she did, people needed her services, people needed her time.
And yet, time was something that she had very little left of.
V was exhausted. The bags under her eyes revealed that she hadn’t slept in days, and she couldn’t remember when she last had a proper meal.
She was always on the go, she didn’t have time to take care of herself.
But as she groggily opened the door to her apartment, she thought to herself that… maybe, just maybe… she would finally let herself take a nice, long warm shower.
V was too exhausted to care about the possibility of Johnny potentially staring at her nude form as she stood under the running water. Hell, let him stare for all she cared! The thought of warm water running over her exhausted muscles, washing away the dirt and grime of the city… it was too appealing at that moment. 
She removed her weapon slung across her back, letting her beloved leather Samurai jacket slip off her shoulders and onto the ground, too exhausted to care about putting it away properly. 
The weight of the gun in her hands was normally a welcome and grounding presence for V when she was on a mission, the weapon in her hands keeping her safe from those who wished to do her harm. But now? It felt too heavy, unbearably so, as if the weight would make her topple over onto the floor below. The muscles in her arms were exhausted and spent. As she rotated her shoulder she heard the joints audibly pop. The consequences of pushing her body too far.
She would do anything for the physical ache to go away. 
As she stepped through the door to her armory and switched on the fluorescent lights of the room, her gaze fell upon someone already there, casually lounging atop her workbench and raising a cigarette to his mouth, pausing to speak before inhaling a deep puff of smoke.
“Damn V. You look like shit.”
She rolled her eyes at his comment, and made her way to her weapon locker instead, trying to ignore the weight of his gaze on the nape of her neck.
V fiddled with the combination, her foggy mind struggling to remember the correct numbers and the correct order, her fingers felt clumsy and uncoordinated as she inputs each digit. V cursed herself for making it so damn difficult, but eventually, she finally managed to swing the metal door open, proceeding to put her gun away amongst her collection of stored weapons. 
Johnny hopped off of the workbench, stepping towards V as she organized her storage, resting his metal arm against the locker, using his height to his advantage as he towered over her and confronted her. “No, seriously V, you look like shit. When was the last time you slept?”
“Fuck— Johnny, I dunno… A few days I guess?” V slammed the door of the locker using more force than necessary, Johnny already starting to get on her nerves, the last thing she needed was Johnny Fucking Silverhand following her around like a worried mother hen. V pouted and huffed, blowing away a stubborn strand of hair that had fallen across her face, then turning to meet his gaze, hidden behind wine-colored lenses, and asked, “Why do you care anyway?”
“You’ve been on edge all day, I can feel it. You’re like a string that’s been strung too strongly. I feel like you’re ready to snap at any fuckn’ moment, V.” 
She could feel his stare on her body and the tension in the room was beginning to suffocate her. He was poking at a sensitive topic for her, and he knew it. 
V stuttered, trying to find the right words to say as she couldn't bring herself to look at him in the eye anymore, instead choosing to halfheartedly push him aside and walk away, “Johnny… I’m fine. Really. I just— I just need a shower and a nap, that’s all.”
As V stepped out of the room, the weight on her chest seemed to grow heavier with each step. 
She wanted to crumble, she wanted to cry. 
She just wanted to wrap up herself in a bundle of blankets and cry into an order of takeout. One of those ugly cries that made snot dribble from your nose and your cheeks flushed and red.
She wanted— no, V needed to let everything out.
But… she couldn’t. She didn’t have the time for it, she needed to get back to work soon. Here were people that needed her help and there were eddies to be made. She would let herself rest when she’d gotten that damned biochip out of her head.
It was at that moment when V’s phone began to ring, the sound interrupting her thoughts and causing her to pause in her step.
Almost as if on reflex, she quickly reached into her pocket and withdrew the device, not even bothering to check the caller ID before answering, “V speaking, what do you want?”
“V, it’s Regina. I’ve got another report of a cyberpsycho attack…”
V stopped listening to the voice on her phone, too distracted by the crushing pressure on her chest and the fact that she had begun to tremble and shake like a leaf.
All she had wanted was a hot shower and a night in, was that too much to ask?
After weeks of dodging blades and bullets, running meaningless errands and tasks for just a few eddies in return, spending sleepless nights that left dark circles under her eyes, and going days on end without even seeing her fucking apartment, all she wanted was a night in.
Was that too much to fucking ask?
She could faintly register Johnny’s voice coming from behind her, an uncharacteristically concerned tone in his voice as he asked, “...V? What’s wrong?”
The pressure in her chest grew heavier by the second, her breaths becoming strained and labored as the increasing fear and dread overwhelmed her body. She gripped her phone tightly in her hand, glaring at the device with tears prickling the corners of her eyes.
“V? Are you listening? I said that there’s another report of a cyberpsycho near your current position, are you still—“
With a press of a button, she hung up the phone.
Johnny watched V, her form trembling and shoulders tensed.
In all of their weeks stuck together, he’d never seen his little merc look so small. A real juxtaposition when compared to her usual self; a real fucking hardass, she was the only other person Johnny had ever met that was just as bullheaded and stubborn as himself. 
As much as he teased her about it, Johnny knew one thing for certain. V was strong, V was determined. A damned force of nature and he pitied the bastards that stood in her way.
But despite the cybernetics in her body and the chip in her mind… V was human. V had her limits.
The facade she’d built up for herself couldn’t last forever, and Johnny knew it. He’d sensed the cracks in her resolve grow larger and larger with each sleepless night and after every exhausting gig.
But for a brief second, a thought crossed Johnny’s mind; 
V was fractured… V was broken… V was weak.
And with that thought, V finally snapped.
“I AM NOT FUCKING WEAK!”
V cried out, lobbing her phone at him. It phased right through him, instead hitting against the wall, shattering the screen, and sending the device flying into some unknown corner of the room. 
She froze, her eyes widening in shock, almost as if she couldn’t believe what she had done. The realization slowly setting in after the result of her outburst.
V’s vision blurred as tears welled in the corners of her eyes, she slowly fell to the cold floor, cradling her knees up to her chest and muffling her sobs in her arms.
Johnny watched as she sat in the middle of the room and sobbed. 
She didn’t let herself cry when Jackie had died, she didn’t let herself cry when Vic told her that she was practically dying. V didn’t cry as she carried Evalyn’s bloodied body, and V didn’t cry late at night when she was alone, and her chest felt tight and her throat choked up.
He knew it was coming, he could feel V’s emotions as they bubbled up and reached their boiling point. 
But what truly surprised him, was just how much it hurt him to see his little merc cry.
“Shit— V…” he nervously swallowed his throat, but try as he might, for once in his goddamn existence, he couldn’t find the right words to say.
Johnny didn’t like the way he felt. 
Johnny didn’t like the way she made him feel at that moment.
He didn’t like the way his chest tightened at the sound of each of her sobs. The way he felt so restless as he could only watch her curl onto herself for comfort. He couldn’t stop himself from pacing back and forth across the room, unsure if it was her anxiety or his that was setting him off. 
Johnny could almost feel V’s heart racing in her chest, the adrenaline flooding her veins, adrenaline meant to stimulate a fight or flight reaction. But when the pain and panic swelled from within her own chest, there was nowhere V could run, nobody she could physically fight.
All she could do was sob into her knees, desperately trying to hide her sobs and cries from him, but her own cries easily overpowered her. 
And because of him, she didn’t even feel like she had the ability to freely have a goddamn mental breakdown in her own apartment, even as she choked and sobbed, she tried to grasp onto the shattered remains of her facade. Was it for her sake, or for his?
At that point… neither of them knew.
V couldn’t stop her body from trembling. She tightly gripped onto herself until her knuckles turned white. But V didn’t notice. It didn’t even register in her mind.
She didn’t register the hot tears as they streamed down her face, the shuddering cries that caused her lip to quiver with each breath. She couldn’t recognize that no matter how hard she tried, her frantic breaths caused her lungs to feel as if they were on fire, incapable of delivering oxygen to her body.
V’s mind didn’t even register the fact that Johnny had stopped pacing back and forth.
Her mind cursed at her to get her shit together. V needed to wipe away those tears and she needed to get back on the streets. A moment of weakness could’ve gotten her killed in her past, and now was no different. 
But… the thought of standing up and leaving her apartment caused another fresh wave of sobs to rattle her body.
She was tired… she was so goddamn exhausted… 
“V…”
All she wanted was a night in. Was that too much to ask? After all of her hard work and effort, hadn’t she earned it?
“V, listen to me.”
Clearly, she hadn’t done enough if people were still calling, still demanding her presence. Clearly she—
V felt something warm touch her cheek.
Someone was there. 
Although her mind had stopped temporarily spiraling, she felt the wet salty tears dripping down her face, her vision was still blurry, and her cheeks were incredibly flushed. She must’ve looked… pathetic she thought. But regardless, she allowed herself to look up at the person who had reached out to her.
The cold of his metal rings juxtaposed the warmth of his hand, and as her eyes trailed up towards his arms, she caught sight of his familiar tattoos, but also an unfamiliar detail as she reached his face.
Instead of seeing her reflection in the lenses of his glasses, she was surprised to see his eyes staring into hers. Gone was any trace of malice or cruelty, instead his brown eyes reflected nothing but concern… an emotion she’d never expected to see from him.
Johnny. 
As her tearful eyes met his, he could’ve almost sworn that he felt his engram heart stop beating for a second. The tears rolling down her cheeks, the way her lip trembled with each breath. He didn’t know why the sight of V feeling so upset affected him so, he blamed her emotions, her hormones, whatever came into his mind. He hated the way she made him feel, he hated that she had this much power over him. 
But most of all, he hated the fact that he felt so powerless to stop it.
He would’ve gladly taken V cussing him out, he would’ve taken V nagging at him and complaining about the smell as he smoked in her apartment. He would’ve even happily taken V as she sang along to the car radio, something she’d originally done to get onto his nerves, but now it has become a sound he’s grown… to tolerate. Even sometimes… appreciate it. 
He wasn’t the type to comfort people like this, he was the type to leave as soon as emotions came into play, the countless amount of hearts that he’d broken in the past were evidence enough. Fuck, he didn’t know how to deal with his own goddamn emotions, blowing up Arasaka tower as revenge to deal with his grief, that’s what got him into this mess.
But as he wiped away a tear from her soft cheek with his calloused thumb… he wasn’t going to just sit there and let his little merc cry.
“V. You’ve done more than enough for this city than it deserves. You’re always running back and forth, trying to make this shithole a better place… all while trying to keep yourself alive.” He wanted to tell her that this damned city didn’t deserve her generosity, it didn’t deserve her hard work, fuck, this city didn’t deserve her.  
He didn’t deserve her.
And she didn’t deserve what he was doing to her.
“You keep spreading yourself too thin, you keep wanting to do shit for others, you keep wanting to help. But then you add the cherry on top — the fact that there’s a chip in your head slowly killin’ ya… You’ve got enough on your plate. You’ve earned a few nights of rest.”
V sniffled and tried to wipe away tears, her voice wavering as she spoke, “I-If I don’t keep goin’ if I don’t keep looking for a solution— I’m gonna die. Johnny, I don’t want to die—“
“V, you’re gonna end up dead long before the chip has an opportunity to kill you if you keep pushing yourself like this… You need to get some rest.”
He was right. As much as she fucking hated it… he was right.
She felt his metal hand cup her other cheek, the cool metal refreshing against the flushed skin, wiping away tears as he continued to speak.
“You’ve proven yourself enough to this city. You’ve proven yourself enough to me. But running yourself to the bone is not worth it in order to prove it to yourself. And you’re not alone V… as much as they get on my fuckn’ nerves, you’ve got chooms lookin’ out for ya, even if one of them is a fuckn’ cop—“
Through tears, V chuckled and playfully chided him, “Johnny…”
There it was… that little chuckle of hers that he was looking for. He wouldn’t admit it to others, he wouldn’t even admit it to himself, but V’s laughter never failed to make him feel something funny in his chest… it wasn’t like the high of drugs or liquor, but it felt just as addictive. It wasn’t like the adrenaline rush of a firefight or the rush during a show, but it made him feel just as excited and lightheaded.
He cleared his throat, trying to get his mind off of that feeling, and spoke, “Listen… all I’m saying… is that you’re not alone V. And although I don’t have much of a choice, whenever you need me…” he playfully smiled as his eyes met hers, “I’m always here for ya V.”
And that’s all it took.
In one moment to another, V wrapped her arms around his waist, knocking him on his ass from his previous kneeling position, and burying her head against his chest.
Despite sharing a head and body, somehow, someway, V always found a way to surprise him.
He groaned, the deep rumbles from his chest as he spoke making V settle in closer, anchoring herself to his presence.
“Fuck, V, a little warning next time would be nice.”
But even as he whined… he wasn’t complaining. Not when her sobs were beginning to fade, and she was instead chuckling at his expense in his arms. 
He ignored that funny feeling in his chest as his organic arm wraps itself against her body, his calloused hand rubbing circles against the small of her back, feeling her trembling begin to slow under his soft touch. Over time, her breathing began to even, and soon enough she was taking deep breaths as she recovered. 
Without even consciously doing so, Johnny’s metal hand found itself entwined with the strands of her hair, softly caressing as V’s eyes began to droop, and exhaustion began to overtake her body.
“V… it’s time for you to go to bed.”
“I’m fine Johnny, I’m—“ a yawn interrupted her mid-sentence, “I’m not even tired.”
“And I’m not buying it.” He chuckled as his arm wrapped around her midsection.
“W-wait Johnny what are you— Johnny!” In an instant, V was thrown over his shoulder as he stood from the ground, and she gripped onto him in order to avoid falling to the floor.
“What does it look like I’m doing? I’m taking you to bed.” He chuckled as he felt her hand playfully slap against his shoulder.
“Fucking hell Johnny, a warning would be nice!” He could almost imagine her expression as he walked across the apartment, the way she would pout in exasperation.
“Just repaying the favor, that’s all.” He smirked as he reached her bed. Slowly setting her down from his shoulder onto the mattress below. 
“There. It’s time that you allowed yourself to get some rest, and not that weird shit you do where you sleep across the bed huddled in a little ball, but some actual sleep, under the covers and all.” 
“Fine, fine…” V slipped into a pair of nightclothes as Johnny had the decency to look away, and then slipped under the blankets, making herself comfortable. But before she drifted off to sleep, she called out, “Johnny?”
“... yeah?”
“I just— I just wanted to say thanks. Y’know, for tonight and all.”
“‘Course…” he stepped towards the bed once more as he spoke, “I mean, if I’m the one telling you that you need some rest, you probably fucked up somewhere along the way.”
“That’s true… judging from your memories, you’re terrible at following your own advice, Johnny.” She smiled at him, uncertain if the lack of sleep had made her delirious or if perhaps she was feeling particularly honest that night, but she spoke, “Y’know, if fucking up this badly was the catalyst for us to meet… I would do it all over again.”
He smiled sadly in return, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear, his cold metal hand brushing her cheek as he did so. An action to acknowledge the words between them were best left unspoken and unsaid— at least, for now.
“...Goodnight V.” He tore his gaze from her as he turned to walk away.
“Wait— Johnny!”
She grasped his metallic hand before he had the opportunity to pull away.
“... stay with me? Just for tonight?”
With her eyes looking up at him, her smaller hand clinging onto his, causing his breath to hitch and his heart to race—
How could he say no?
“Fine, but just for tonight. I can’t have you thinkin’ I’m goin’ soft or something.”
Johnny slipped under the covers, and without even needing to be asked, he wrapped his arms around V, and she rested her head against his chest in return.
“Get some rest, samurai… the city will still be there waiting for us when you awake.”
-
Thank ya kindly for reading! I'm always down for some constructive criticism and I love to read any lovely comments about my fics. Do let me know if there are any mistakes, I don't have a beta reader for Cyberpunk just yet, so a few mistakes may have gotten away from me!
And feel free to send in asks/requests! I'm so in love with Johnny and V and I can spend hours thinking and talking about them aaaaa
69 notes · View notes
backtobackbakubabe · 3 years
Text
I am the Alpha Now Part 16
Bakugo x Reader
words : 2520
Masterlist
Reader is from America and somewhat of a delinquent with an alpha quirk that allows her to turn into a wolf as well as bond with dogs. She is sent to UA to straighten out her attitude. She ends up in a power struggle with none other than our favorite hot head. Words in Italics are words said telepathically.
***********************************************************************
His skin pricked and burned every once in a while. Almost as if he was being burned. He chalked it up to the hot son that had been beating down on him all morning. The guys had gone back to UA a few hours ago to get a quick nap before graduation. As much as he hated to admit it, Deku had proven to be extremely helpful after all. He managed to cover more ground with his speed and narrowed down the options. They had worked all through the night without complaint, and for that he owed them big time.
The others had begged him to come with them. Graduation would only take a few hours. They were nervous leaving him alone out here. It wasn’t a great part of town and he wasn’t in the best state of mind. It wouldn’t take much for him to blow up half the neighborhood.
He argued with them until he was on the verge of a headache. “I’m not alone. I have Mercy. He’s got my back. You guys go on. I promise to come back to eat something later tonight.”
That was a few hours ago and he can’t deny that he’s started to get an uneasy feeling in his stomach the longer he was out here. Thoughts of what the other heroes were saying started to crowd his mind.
There wasn’t really any evidence that you had been kidnapped. Other than the small amount of blood Mercy had found on the wall it looked like you had left voluntarily. All of the security footage showed you leaving of your own free will.
With your record, some heroes thought maybe you had just decided to pack your shit and go. But you wouldn’t have done that. There’s no way you would have left your pack behind. No way you would have cut yourself off from him. Even if you personally decided you didn’t like him anymore, he was still a part of your pack. Your Alpha instincts wouldn’t let you abandon him like this.
God, he felt like such a pussy. He was supposed to be stronger than this. He wasn’t supposed to feel so attached to anyone! He had spent his whole life avoiding personal connections for this very reason. He was worried sick over you. But he was also angry. He was pissed. Pissed at himself for not being stronger than this. Pissed at you disappearing and not telling him where you were going. Pissed at you for not trusting him. Pissed at the world for constantly giving you the shit end of the stick.
The more worked up he got the louder the ringing in his ears got. A painful reminder that you weren’t there to fix him. He could sense Mercy’s presence a few streets over and called him in to eat a quick breakfast.
He pulled out a few granola bars and a pack of sandwich meat. He tossed the meat on the ground for Mercy which he happily started to scarf down. Bakugo was lost in thought when he felt a random pinch in his shoulder, it hurt only briefly but it was intense. He rotated his shoulder around, must be a pinched nerve or something.
Mercy stopped eating, “Did you feel that too?”
Bakugo was stuffing his trash in his pocket. “Feel what? Did you get something from her?”
Mercy whined, “That pain in your shoulder. I felt it too. Did you hurt yourself?”
Bakugo shrugged as he kneaded into the muscle in his shoulder, “I don’t think so. It only hurt for a second, but it’s fine now.” He saw the intense stare Mercy was giving him, and could feel him become uneasy. “Why what’s wrong?”
Mercy sat down and huffed, “I think someone is hurting y/n. I think that was her pain slipping through the bond. Like I said the bond is like a door. She has to focus to keep it shut. It would make sense that intense pain would open it up just a crack. Have you felt any weird burning sensations at all today?”
Bakugo’s heart stopped and his blood began to boil. “Yeah… I thought it was just the sun…”
“Who do we know with fire related quirks?”
Bakugo ran a hand through his hair in frustration, “Me, IcyHot, Endeavor, and…. Dabi.” His eyes grew wide as his jaw clenched hard enough to crack teeth. “The league as her. The same bastards that took me a couple years ago!” His palms crackled as involuntary explosions threatened to go off. He needed to calm down. He needed to tell the others.
He pulled his phone out and called Kiri. No answer. Todoroki, again with no answer. He looked at the time and swore. The graduation ceremony was about to begin. He hovered over Deku’s name for a few moments before finally hitting dial. It rang a few times before that annoying voice answered.
“Kachan! Are you okay? You never call me.” He could hear a scuffle on the other end of the phone before a new voice was speaking into the phone.
“Bakugo, it’s Aizawa. Where are you?”
Bakugo gripped the phone tighter, “I already told you I wasn’t coming to that stupid ceremony. Listen I’ve found out some new information. I think the League of Villains have y/n. I can feel a weird burning pain sometimes through the bond and so can Mercy. It has to be Dabi!”
There was a tense silence on the other end of the phone. “Bakugo, that’s not exactly evidence. That’s just a feeling. And even if it were true, that doesn’t help find her. If anything, it means you need to come back. They’ve already taken you once. It’s not smart for you to be out there by yourself. And before you say Mercy is there, he doesn’t count. You need someone preferably with apposable thumbs… and can actually communicate with people who aren’t you.”
“You know what? I don’t have time for this. Is Hawks there. You said he was assigned to this right? Is he there? Can I talk to him?”
Aizawa gave a tired sigh, “You aren’t going to listen to anything I say, are you?”
“Nope. Is he there or not?” Bakugo could feel his temper starting to rise but could feel Mercy attempting to calm him down just as quickly. “If you could look that would be very helpful.”
The other end was quiet while Aizawa looked around for the feathery hero. “He isn’t here. But I can give you his number. Please at least tell him where you are. Let him help you.”
Bakugo promptly hung up on his old sensei as soon as he had Hawk’s number. He honestly didn’t know why he was so mad with Aizawa. It just felt like that even after everything he’s done Aizawa will only ever see him as the kid who wanted to be called Lord Explosion Murder. He had come a long way since then, put in a lot of work, and he just needed him to acknowledge that.
The phone rang way too long before going to voicemail. But Bakugo wasn’t having that. He was stubborn. If he needed to call Hawks one hundred times before he answered, then so be it.
The third time he called it picked up on the first ring. “WHAT? Who the hell is this and why are you bothering me?” There was a loud bang in the background and Hawk’s voice grew muffled as he pulled the phone away from him. “Can you not, for like two seconds? I told you I was getting a call on my hero phone! So, shut up!” He groaned as his request to be quiet was followed by another loud thud. “Where was I? Oh yeah, what do you want?”
Bakugo wished he could reach through the phone and deck him. “This is Bak- uh Ground Zero. I heard you’re currently assigned to find l/n y/n. I have some important information and was wondering if you could meet with me.”
Another loud noise sounded in the background except this one was followed by a soft moaning noise. Bakugo could feel his skin heat up and his breathing pause. He would know that moan anywhere.
“I told you to knock it off! I’m on the phone!” Bakugo needed to make his next move carefully. He couldn’t be impulsive. “Sorry about that. Yeah, I’ve taken the lead on tracking her down. What do you say we meet at UA tomorrow to talk about it? I’m sure you’re busy with grad parties tonight. Have fun and remember to be safe. Don’t drink too much, been there, done that, you know what I mean?”
“Tonight. I want to meet tonight.” He needed to stay calm, he needed to stay calm. “That is, if that’s alright with you? I don’t have any plans. I didn’t even go to the stupid ceremony. I’m so over all of those extras.”
This got a chuckle out of Hawks. “Yeah I guess that could work. There’s a good ramen joint in town. I’ll send you the address. See you there in say 4 hours?”
A sharp pain went through Bakugo’s wrist and he knew it had to be you. He gritted his teeth, “How about now? Where are you? I’ll come meet you.”
Hawks paused for a moment, nervous with the sudden change in Bakugo’s tone. “Now’s not really a good time. I’m in the middle of something. Important hero work. Need to know only. But hey let me know where you are, and I’ll come find you as soon as I’m done.”
“That’s fine. Just call me when you’re ready to meet. Just make it quick.”
“So impatient, why not just tell me now?” Bakugo could hear the unsaid question in Hawk’s voice. Hawk’s wanted to know if Bakugo was on to him.
Bakugo couldn’t lose his cool. He needed to throw Hawks off the scent. He needs to gain his trust. Needs to meet him in person so he can follow him back to you. “No, what I want to say needs to be in person. I don’t trust phones. Never know who’s listening. I will say I don’t think she was kidnapped though. It’s possible she went back home. But I just want your opinion on some stuff I found.”
There was obvious relief in Hawk’s voice, “Oh yeah sure. You know what? I can probably sneak out now. I think we’re basically done here anyways. How about that ramen shop I mentioned earlier?”
“Yeah, just send me the address.”
****************** Y/n POV ******************
Hawks was still on the phone looking pale. Whoever he was talking too was making him nervous.
Your body was in absolute agony. Dabi looked like a kid in Disney Land as he had his way with you, and not in the fun way. He burned your skin, broke your bones, he had even stabbed your shoulder earlier. Asshole.
You were literally soaked with blood, sweat, and tears. The maniac didn’t understand that just because you healed, didn’t mean it didn’t hurt. The latest injury had been him snapping your wrist, even after Hawks had asked him to stop. You let out a muffled moan as you tried to set the bones back so it would heal faster.
Dabi’s eyes looked at you with a playful glee as Hawk’s eyes looked terrified, “I told you to knock it off! I’m on the phone!”
Dabi leaned in and whispered in his ear, “That’s his hero phone. I bet you every dollar in my pocket that they’re talking about you.”
You shoved him away from you and held your injured wrist to your chest and collapsed in pain onto the floor. You couldn’t take any more. This was torture. You closed your eyes and tried to focus on healing. Because that was the point in all of this right? To learn how your healing worked. To try and control it.
You could feel a warm numb feeling seep down your arm into your wrist. You tried to force yourself into Alpha mode, but not to shift. Your eyes started to glow, and the warmth grew hotter, until you finally passed out from exhaustion.
“Did you have to be so rough with her?” Hawks skipped over and dropped down next to you to check your pulse. “That was Bakugo on the phone you idiot. I swear when she cried, you know when you broke her wrist…He knew it was her. He was really pushy on meeting me in person.”
Dabi smirked, “First of all she didn’t cry, she fucking moaned… and it was kinda hot. Not gonna lie. So yeah, if he’s her boyfriend and he’s been doing his job correctly then he probably did recognize it.” He shoved his finger into Hawks chest, “You’re the idiot for answering your hero phone while in the middle of some not very heroic work.”
“He called me three times and I didn’t recognize the number! I thought it was an emergency!” Hawks was trying to pick you up now. “God you are a fucking animal, I swear. We are trying to help her. She’s not going be much help in a fight if she’s broken.”
Dabi ruffled your hair as you continued to sleep in Hawk’s arms. “I did help her. Look at her. Sure, she’s exhausted but I put her through hell and there’s not a scratch on her. She’s already learned how to speed it up a little. I’m just hoping it’ll be enough to counteract hand job’s quirk.”
Hawks narrows his eyes at Dabi, “You know, if I didn’t know any better, I’d think you liked her.”
Dabi recoiled his hand from your hair quickly, “Fuck off. I don’t particularly like anyone. But she’s got spunk. And she’s not like the rest of them. Maybe it’s the Alpha in her… but I just can’t see her getting pushed around in the system like we did.”
Hawks set you down on the couch. “You know there’s a rumor that she’s somehow added the explosion brat into her ‘pack’ whatever that means. From what the teachers tell me they can communicate telepathically, feel each other’s emotions, locate each other… heal each other…”
Dabi poured an unhealthy amount of rum into his cup and took a sip, “So? Why does that matter? You worried he’s going to come banging down the door looking for her?”
“No. I think we both know if he knew where she was, he would have been here already. Meaning she’s willingly not telling him.” Hawks gave Dabi a sly smile, “That also means if you play your cards right, maybe she’ll add you to her little collection and heal you too.”
Dabi scoffed, “And why the hell would I want that?” His eyes lingered on your sleeping figure. He still didn’t really care if you lived or died as long as you took out Shigaraki for him. But something was starting to stir in him. Maybe he’d prefer it if you lived. Not likely, but… Maybe.
************************************************************************
Tags :
@tspice283 , @realityisoftendisapointing , @imbi-101 , @thoughtfulpandazine2 , @hotarumorikawa , @huh-iwasntpayingattention , @starfishlovingbnha , @weebnumber3622 , @mixedfeeelings , @munchmunch01 , @inumorph @xxoperatexx @runrabbitrun3 @insane-without-delirium
26 notes · View notes
Text
Unexpected bonding
(The short fanfic based on the first proper meeting between Musa and Riven on “Fate: The Winx Saga”. English is not my first language, so apologies for the possible grammar- and spelling-mistakes.)
Musa walked across the yard, among training and chatting students, trying to calm her twirling thoughts by firmly holding the combat stick. Usually, she enjoyed the lessons and this place felt like a second home to her. But in all honesty, these last few days could've gone a lot better. For some reason, this complicated mix of excitement, worry and determination around her was harder to take than usual. Everyone was restlessly and impatiently waiting for something to happen, even though they didn't fully know what it was. But it was there, hiding in the plain sight. This was the time her help would be needed the most, but she had never felt herself so...damn useless. How she wished she could've already been in her room, put her headphones on, focused on the music and let the rest of the world keep turning by itself for a while.
The sudden flash of obvious arrogance and more hidden anger was an oddly welcoming change in the common atmosphere and attracted her attention. It didn't take long for her to figure out its source: one of specialists was training with a battle rope a few long steps away from her, clearly apart from the others. His technique appeared to be nearly flawless, but she didn't need her powers to notice that behind it there was a deep need to let his frustrations out.
Musa didn't actually know much about Riven. Of course, everybody had heard of him - other than being close with Sky, he had gotten quite a bad reputation in Alfea, and his questionable habits with drugs didn't exactly help on the matter. These "stormy and unbalanced"-kind of energy auras were often too much for an empath like her, and that fact alone put him among the people she had usually been avoiding. 
Still walking forward, she answered his sharp glance nonchalantly – a neutral, silent hello, that didn't expect any kind of discussion. However, hearing quiet, out of the blue chuckle made her stop reflexively, full of doubt. They hadn't changed more than a few words with each other before and she had had no reason to believe it would change now. He stopped his training too and looked at her, estimating.
"You like holding that big stick?"
His slightly amused, undermining and suggesting tone after a long and exhausting day made Musa react quickly; with secure grasp, she rotated the stick swiftly and bent into an attack-position, holding the stick very close to his face – staying still, half waiting for some kind of anger or offended surrendering-movement. However, her intuition was wrong again: instead, the youngster touched the head of the stick lightly and lowered It, raising his eyebrows and smirking almost flirtatiously. "I'll take that as a yes."
Young fairy repressed her will to roll her eyes: sadly, Riven was also well-known for his narrow-minded, obnoxious and somewhat prejudiced comments and opinions. This year Terra and Dane  had seemed to have gotten the worst blows of them. Even though Terra hadn't admitted it to anyone, Musa had lived with her long enough to know that some of the remarks had really gotten under her skin. And that was saying a lot, when it came to a generally happy person like her. Some people just couldn't take a hint of crossing the line, and the boy standing in front of her was definitely one of them.
To show him that she really wasn't in a mood for such behavior today, she partly leaned on her stick and titled her head. "I think I just threw up."
In spite of the loathing tone in her answer, Riven couldn't help feeling a tad impressed: this tiny fairy seemed to have more fierceness and spunk in her than the most of the well-trained Specialists. After the lackey-like, avoiding or somewhat fearful reactions he had faced lately, this strictness from someone else than his best friend or mentor – especially a girl - certainly was something new. There was no denying that Beatrix had offered him quite a portion of that as well in her own, seductive and slightly twisted way, but this lass had some exceptional gentleness, vision and different kind of honesty in her that Beatrix just... had not. 
Still a hint of smile on his face, he came a little closer to her, unwilling to change the subject. "I saw you on the support rounds with Miss Dowling  at training." His tone was trying to pursue neutrality, but even the fool could've seen that he wanted to prove his point.
Musa tried to separate her own feelings from all the other auras around her to process his new, startling attentiveness. Was she honored or bothered – and more importantly, which one was the right way to react? At the moment, even the Expert of Emotions herself couldn't tell. What was the catch here? It would've made more sense for him to keep an eye on assertive and strong people like Stella or Aisha. She stayed quiet, letting a little patient smile crack her poker face, wondering where he was going with this.
Being wise enough not to test her patience any longer, Riven decided to answer the unspoken question himself. Without fully meeting her eye, he let his gaze linger at her feet. "I wouldn't have expected a mind fairy to have such good moves."
Without an invitation or permission, Mrs. Dowling's task-orientated but friendly voice echoed in her ears again.
 "Not all fairy magic is suited to combat roles. Support is equally, if not more, important. Your magic can help us assess the fragile states of minds and uncover hidden enemies."
It was a common knowledge that the Headmistress was encouraging to the core, cared for her students, and meant well. Still, Musa's speculative mind constantly found hidden subtexts in her words, which started with "too theoretic" and ended up at something like: "Insufficient" or "powerless when things actually go wrong."
"I used to be a dancer." The words escaped her lips, before she managed to stop them. Whether it was because of Mrs. Dowling, her own defense mechanisms against Riven's prejudices, his infuriating abilities to give compliments and offend at the same time, or just pure tiredness, she was surprised by her own transparency. She had told about this only to her very few close people in her life. Not even her roommates knew. And now she had blabbered it in front of a basically complete stranger! But on the other hand, it was really refreshing to talk to someone, who didn't pry or force their curiosity on her out of duty or responsibility. Unable to help herself, she admitted: "I kinda miss being physical."
When she had been younger, her mother had taught her to dance and they had made it something they shared. It had been wonderful to dive deep into music and focus on the movements and the different worlds, in which melodies had transferred her into. But when her mother had passed away, she hadn't been able to bring herself in that flow anymore. No matter how persistently she had tried, it hadn't felt the same. Now it only reminded her of everything she had lost.
Abruptly, she returned back to reality and noticed that Riven's gaze had found its way in her eyes again and his posture had returned to its natural defensiveness.
"Yeah, well, too bad", he spat out in a slightly husky voice. "You're a fairy. They don't care what you wanna be in this place, only what they want you to be."
Quite a nice reward for being honest! It would've been so easy and rightful for Musa to get mad at him. But her mother had always used to say that no one's story and melody should be shut out, and she had chosen to live through that code. Even with the douchebag like Riven.
Now that she looked closer, with a little help of her own, she was able to see the dark circles under his eyes – eyes that were actually really observant and sincere, like they were trying to convey her an important message. Under the arrogance and "know it all"-attitude, there was buried bitterness and sadness. This wasn't just a cocky boy fighting for his territory. It was a sincere warning, born by his own, long-term experiences.
When one really stopped to think about it, this guy had gone through quite a rough year. The first more hidden emotion Musa sensed – perhaps because it had been also her friend for the last couple of days – was the fear of not being enough. Mr. Silva had always been righteous and fair leader and mentor who wanted to treat everyone equally, but still there was a little...guess it could be called conflict of interest. Even though Sky’s bloodline had guaranteed him the place in this school, he had been motivated and trained himself to the top and hadn't expected any special treatment. But after his father, Andreas of Eraklyon, had passed away in a battle, Silva, as Andreas' best friend, had taken him under his wing and now saw him basically as his own son. Due to this fact and his carefree and rebellious stoner-history, Riven must have felt overshadowed and the need to prove everyone that he belonged here.
Obviously, there was also worry and complicated feelings about Beatrix on his mind. Despite her... interesting personality – kindly expressed – and her shady and threatening motives that were becoming clearer by the moment, they had been close. She had been one of the few people who didn't judge him in one way or another. And now she was imprisoned and not many people knew what the faculty was planning to do to her. He probably also wondered how big role he had played in causing the danger – partly by being nasty to Dane – that was now hanging above everyone. He clearly tried to act like it didn't have an effect on him, but Musa and Aisha had witnessed his lousily finished training this morning. All of this would've a lot to bear to anyone, and Musa couldn't help feeling a little sorry for him.
"You really hate being here, don't you?"
She hadn't even acknowledged she had used her powers on full force until she saw the look on Riven's face: it was disoriented, almost blank, and there was a hint of surprise in his eyes. Musa was fully aware of what her powers awoke in others: being mentally and emotionally exposed without their own control could be terrifying.
Suddenly, Riven snapped out of his slumber, obviously startled, and pointed his finger at her accusingly. "Stay the fuck out of my head!" His voice was loaded with as much poison as possible, but a tiny, unintended smile screwed his cover up.
Snorting, he shook his head a little and turned around, away from the control of her bright eyes. "Mind fairies..." Still somewhat confused, he started to walk away, mumbling something like: "Walking red flags..." Nosey even at their best, thinking of being know-it-alls because of their abilities... He had been a careless idiot for letting his guard down. There was no doubt that the girl would go straight to Dowling, perhaps Silva, too, to report that the school's unstable rebel should be watched under this big threat...
Annoyed, he lifted his gaze off the ground just in time to see Sam, Musa's boyfriend, approaching them. Personally, he had nothing against the lad: if anything, despite being a loner, Terra's brother always seemed to be nice to everyone. Truth to be told, there was nothing to complain about his fighting skills, either. Perhaps those traits ran in the family. Passing him by, he tapped Sam's shoulder heavily. "Good luck with that one, mate!"
Without his own will, the fairy had awoken something in him, something he both feared, wanted to forget and also secretly missed...things from last year, that almost seemed like another life... Needing his own space, he sped up his steps and headed inside, the image of deep purple eyes oddly and fascinatingly haunting him.
Musa couldn't help smirking to the different auras of these two boys: one reminded of the serene, sunny summer day, while the other one was pretty more like an autumn storm.
For a moment, Sam looked after Riven and then turned his confused gaze to his girlfriend. "What was that about?"
Musa came closer to him, smiling and enjoying his calming and innocent presence. "Nothing." Technically, she wasn't lying. She had no room in her heart to be offended; over the years, she had become quite familiar with those kinds of hostile reactions to her powers. Whatever that had been, she didn't have energy to analyze it now. Besides, she had more pressing, romantic and distracting matters on her mind right now. "Wanna head back to the suite?"
24 notes · View notes