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delugguk · 3 years

Text

[ 2 ] in the soop | JK

welcome to domestic, soft boyfriend, mini or not so mini jungkook in the soop episodes! ft bam

ㅡsince my mind can't stop spinning with every episode + jungkook's finery,,, I decided to do this! I'll be updating this once in a while so don't be afraid to come and check from time to time ♡.

ㅡI'm not sure how many scenarios I'll write since it really depends, this doesn't have a specific end because I can still write in the future but n-e-ways!! hope you enjoy it and please let me know what you think on my lovely ask~

WARNING: 18+ CONTENT.

pair: jungkook x reader

word count: 2.5k

warnings: smut as in.. exhibitionism, oc bounces on jks dick (yeah, that's one of their favourite things to do). a bit of voyeur if you squint?? doggy style, they're just too in love and horny to like,, even care lmao.

IMPORTANT NOTE: for reference.. jungkook looks like this and yep, it's surrounding that specific position and time ;)

2nd note: hoseok, seokjin, yoongi are here. ㅡ and as always.. let me know what you think♡

[more episodes]

EPISODE 2. "younger people aren't as shy nowadays..."

It's time to eat but why... did you had to seat on jungkook's lap?

oh, right.

he told you so.

but does that give you both the right to do what you were doing? no.

where you embarrased? absolutely no.

how come you feel embarrased to have sex in front of a bunch of cameras but when it comes to jungkook's group of friends... you do not even care?

It is a lifetime mystery, but here you are... teasing him. or... oh well. more like him teasing you.

it was the first hours of the morning and so everyone decided to do some hwachae to eat. jungkook was very excited contributing into a big part of the process but the moment you've entered the room to join him seat and eat, has seemed to blur his mind.

"yah jungkook, don't drool too much. you'll end up eating a hwachae full of saliva." hoseok jokes.

"wouldn't that stillㅡbasically be full of his saliva once the food is in his mouth though?" seokjin replies.

"he got you there." humorously, yoongi responds and everyone's laugh.

"right.." hoseok's mumble more to himself.

one of your legs is currently above jungkook's muscular thighs ㅡ by his demand. ㅡ while your hands wraps very nicely around his waist, in a hug. your head resting on his shoulder. you join their laughter.

"aren't you going to eat?" you ask jungkook while he has one of his hands caressing both your shoulders, all the way down to your back and so on, very softly. ㅡ the way he's looking at you right now couldn't be more.. intense. but in a nice way. everyone kept talking their stuff but he..

he preferred to have a little bit of fun with... you.

"I rather eat you." he whispers to your ear and you automatically clench your legs without even noticing but he does.

you look at him in a daring way, "you can't-"

"I know." he flashes a smile, interrupting you. "I can't just do that here." continuing smiling acting as if you didn't just said that a few seconds ago, he's not whispering anymore.

"but I can do this." purring into your ear, he manhandles you to seat on his lap, facing the boys.

for jungkook's win in lottery, you were wearing a very pretty, silky, baby blue skirt. 'more access' he thought. easy access. a win-win. ㅡ the moment you seat on his lap you could feel his semi erect bulge.

you try not to react but it gets a little bit harder when his hands are already sliding down your pantys offㅡall while the boys keep being oblivious at their little maknae's (that's not so little) filthy actions.

they did saw you getting on top of his lap but didn't questioned it though. ㅡ you move one of your hands back in order to squeeze jungkook's arm as to ask what the hell was he doing, but he just chuckles. there is no way you weren't enjoying this and he knew that by the wayㅡthe moment his tattoed finger roses your clit as.. you know, he'd like to call.. 'tasting purposes'.

"lift yourself a little bit for me." his lips brushes your neck softly, reaching your ear.

you do as he says without much thinking. you've already lost. he could take you whenever he wanted. you are for him to please and viceversa. ㅡ you do as he says, and while you're at it he sticks his dick out. he's already so hard for you.. nobody seemed to notice still.. of course your skirt played a big part of it though. since it kept things hidden even though it wasn't very long.

you pretended to get up to grab some hwachae and actually eat one for.. you know, *cough* acting purposes *cough*.

truth is, you could play to be the best actress to ever exist in humanity if it meant you'll have this freedom to fuck your boyfriend every. single. day.

that's how horrendously down bad you were, and you could bet the entire universe that if someone asked him the same thing, he'll do just the same for you.

ㅡthe moment you do that, he puts you down with his bare hands grabbing your hips, already aligning with your insides, entering you very slowly. reason of why you start shaking a little. he slided in very smoothly and good. so good. you did not expected to be this wet but it seemed that the adrenaline of getting caught by one of the members turned you on... badly.

"my fucking princess.." jungkook starts hissing in your ears, his voice very low. none of you are moving. "fucking wet about to get fucked in front of my friends," slowly kisses the back of your neck. "does that makes my little demon horny?"

you squeeze your legs, clenching your walls. jungkook laughs at it. you're overwhelmed by his words and voice while trying not to react in front of them, but your cheeks were already so flushed.

"hey.. what's going on over there? what's so funny?" seokjin says while eating. the three man looking at jungkook for laughing but then all of their gazes land on you.

"jungkook's cheeks are red.. y/n seems a bit.." yoongi starts but hoseok interrupts him.

"are you two fucking??"

jungkook does nothing but show a small grin on his side. his hands hiding underneath your baby blue skirt, you had a hoodie on, it was a nice outfit.

you seemed to have brought a lot of skirts to this trip and to be honest jungkook wasn't mad about it. It just made everything more.. accessible, even fun so.

not knowing about if you should feel grateful or not, you are facing the members but your gaze is on the floor. you could not make eye contact with them while getting fucked under the table by jungkook, could you? no...

it just would be a little too weirdㅡbut you could not help the feeling so you lean your body down the table burying your face in it with your arms and start fucking yourself on jungkook's dick very desperately. soft moans leaving your lips while jungkook hisses way louder at your sudden moves.

all you could hear was seokjin's surprised gasp and hoseok's perverted-like chuckles.

"I can't believe this." hoseok continues.

truth is.. jungkook was hot and he knew it. you could sense how much he knew about your thing for him when he's simple and not wearing make upㅡso ever since he discovered that to be your weak spot.. he has been trying to make your life completely hell. but not that you complained though-

ㅡjungkook's very careful to not let anybody see your private parts since, well.. he was a little bit too.. possessive when it comes to that. In his mind.. nobody could fuck you like him. nobody could touch you the way he does. In his mind he was the perfect and best match for you. In his mind you both were strategically made for each other, that soulmates cheesy shit energy that he adores and gets him going.

for him.. you were princess peach while he was bowser. yes, bowser. he strongly believed that theory of him stealing her from mario just so they both could fuck. you thought he was insane about it but he said he can't just throw that thought away given to their "lame ass" fights. jungkook also deeply believes that peach doesn't really deserve mario but that's a conversation for another day...

the point is, that for him.. you were just that girl that gets him going and he'll do anything and everything for you and that's why he had to protect you. It doesn't matter if you could protect yourself without his help, he'll always be there to offer and serve. ㅡ so he carefully lifts you up to make yourself face him. you're a bit confused but get right back into it as fast as you're down on him once again. jungkook kisses your neck and you moan. his hands placed on your ass below the silky fabric and you hear someone's sigh.

"oh.. they really are fucking huh?" seokjin laughs.

"kook-ah? aren't you going to eat?"

jungkook controls your hips so you go deeper on him, "n-not.. yet. uhm. later.. fuck."

"younger people aren't as shy nowadays.." yoongi says with a smirk drawing his face, sipping from a cup. his voice lower than normal.. it lowkey turned you on the fact that they didn't seemed shocked at all. or at least that's not what you heard since you still didn't face them and now couldn't, given to your boyfriend changing your position. you still wondered if they've done this before...

"fuckㅡ you're doing so good for me." jungkook blurbs between his teeth. then he adjust his hands on your hips again turning you around, making you go back to your first position. "look at them." he says while putting your back against his chest helping you bounce on him by holding your waist.

you can't help but look up and all you see is them continuing eating, as if nothing was happening. they took several glances at you though but they couldn't really see anything else apart from your skirt bouncing up and down. jungkook was low-key holding it down from time to time so they could not see what was his. yeah, he's fine with people watching as long as it is from a far and they don't get to have a taste of what it's like to be with you or to fully see the way your body moves while you were at it, because those were things that were made for his eyes and his eyes only. nobody else. no one else.

"who'll thought we would ever see jungkook fucking his girl in front of us.. huh?" seokjin laughs and they follow.

"who'll ever thought about jungkook letting us see how he fucks his girl?" hoseok's humorous.

"It sure is a first time..." yoongi purrs. everyone chuckles.

"...and who'll thought you'll like getting fucked in front of my friends hm?" jungkook's breathless and you didn't say a word but go hard down on him this time. leaning down on the table for support trying not to moan but it was an useless thing to do right now since they were clearly aware of this situation.ㅡ going harder and harder you started breathing heavier and sexier. you highkey got hornier on getting fucked in front of other people you weren't going to lie.

"fuckㅡprincess." he looks very overwhelm at this point.

"he sure is all grown now.." purrs hoseok.

the three man were already finishing their food as you briefly glance at them in one second. hoseok's all red while yoongi and seokjin's are calm. for some reason yoongi not being bothered by it turned you on which made you think you should tell this to jungkook later, for you know.. reaction purposes-

going back to reality, there is that nick nameㅡ he knew you were close to cum as so he'll could also be. you tighten your grip on the table and start fucking him back and forth.

"damn.." hoseok sighs.

"yeah.." yoongi respondsㅡtrying not to mind yalls business was getting hard. reason why they start cleaning their things to go.

jungkook carries the sexiest smirk on his face at his friends actionsㅡsuch a pitty you could not see such sight as he roughly fucked you now.

"babeㅡfuck-" you moan trying to lean down the table all over again but he lifts you up so you could turn around, facing him. "come here babe" you sit back on his cock very quickly while his butt is out of the chair to fuck you better. jungkook holds your skirt down when he notices the members peaking at your ass. but he can't contain it anymore so he just let them. your skirt going up naturally. he'll let them see this time. just once.

"fucking tight." jungkook hisses between teeth lifting up your silk skirt just for him to touch giving you a tiny slap.

"this fucking ass is all mine, you hear?"

"mhm- ywah." your eyes closed as you moan close to his lips. he grabs the opportunity to leave a soft peck.

jungkook's cheeks are tinted red from the heat and the room wasn't even hot but it sure felt like it.

"that's why I like to hear.." both his hands rubbing your ass.

eventually, the image was.. obviously getting a bit to... intense. and because they're humans they were clearly starting to feel some.. *cough* things. ㅡ very smoothly one by one started saying the things they needed to do for the sake of getting out of there faster enough unless they'll say something they shouldn't and hey, who wants to fight jungkook? even when he's the youngest.. they know a mad and irritated jungkook isn't a great jungkook when it comes to them.

"uh, im- jungkook your f-food-" seokjin interrupted,

"make sure to eat, I'm leaving your food here.." yoongi points at the table. jungkook takes a quick glance at him looking extremely GONE. without saying a word, he just nod his head very quickly.

"ok so.. that's it." hoseok lowers his voice.

"y/n you too, make sure to... eat." softly, seokjin remains.

"eung" that's all you manage to sayㅡand with that they're gone.

"fuck now is your time."

Jungkook bends you to the table and starts fucking you deep and nice. you wish you could fuck yourself back but you were reaching your orgasm already.

"shit, I'm cummingg."

legs all wobbly, but your ass still up for how good the overstimulation was, you wait till he cums tooㅡand he does.

"fuck..."

"did we just-"

"yeah..." he giggles and you do too.

"wow."

"yep-"

you both laugh because really, you had no words it just.. sort of,, happened? but somehow felt like it didn't.

he seats back on the chair, cleaning himself and you do too. noticing how the boys left some clean wipes for you both.. you felt a little embarrased by that. you thought you both must have looked very.. wild.

"was this a fever dream?"

"given to the way your legs wobble everytime you walk, mhm.... i dont think so"

you try to punch him but can't given to the way you're seated in front of him.

"youre so stupid." you roll your eyes.

"we both are." he smiles mocking you.

"wi bith iri." you mock him back.

"see? that's proof." he laughs.

"oh! shut up and eat!" you laugh back, "you're lucky enough they left us food to eat, you fool."

"..fooling in loveㅡof course they were going to, i trust them. and yes, guess I'm a fool. but in love. "

you look at him with the most humorous, disappointing face at his lame joke, "please.." you motion your hand at his food, "just eat."

"why why" he laughs and smiles with that one and only super flirty boyish smile you love so much. It makes you look down your food with a tiny smile.

you just start eating without saying anything in which he looks up to you and start doing the same.

and that's when you realize that times like these.. is where you really appreciated spending time with him, you could almost described it as.. healing. It just felt very... nice.

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ragnvdnir · 2 years

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OH OHHH UHM UHM CAN I HAVE THOMA WITH ‘ would you care to dance? ’

warnings: none atm

note: pretty sure this is not included in the prompt list but imma do it bc its thoma. and idk what i did and why it turned out like this. the finish product is too far from the request lmao

THOMA has loved you for god knows how long. You are made for each other; a match made in heaven. Love always finds its way for you and him. Being there for each other since you were in diapers to hitting puberty and at last, finally having the courage to confess and date and here you are, being the happiest newlyweds.

He was singing along as a song plays in the background while he chops ingredients to cook. The whistle of the kettle took him back to reality and he walked toward the kitchen to turn off the stove. At the same time, the door opened and you walked in, taking off your shoes and hanging your scarf and coat on the rack, looking exhausted. Thoma looked behind him and he saw you walking toward him like a zombie.

“Welcome home, my sweetest love!” He greeted you with his enchanting smile while opening his arms for you to run to. Your heart cried out of joy at the sight of Thoma. You gave him a tired smile and embraced him tightly, letting out a sigh of relief.

“A very long day?” He asked. You only nodded and rest your head on his shoulders. He planted a kiss on your forehead and cares your hair lovingly. You stayed like that for a minute until the song in the background changes into something sweet and slow, perfect for a dance.

Thoma looked down at you with a sheepish smile pasted on his face “Would you care to dance?” He whispered. You glanced at him, fond.

“It's my honor to dance with you,” You took his hands.

“And it is happiness to dance with the most beautiful person in every lifetime.” He took your hand before giving them a sweet gentle kiss and guided you into the middle of the living room where taroumaru is found sitting in one of the chairs.

Ineffable, that's how to describe your state right now. Thoma is too great to be described and expressed in words. He is everything. He made you feel like you were the happiest person alive. He took you to ecstasy that you thought never existed. He loves you, you love him. That is enough— maybe even too much— to have in your little life.

Nevertheless, he never fails to pray to gods every waking moment to thank them for letting him feel your love, for letting him breathe beside you, for letting him live another day to care for you, for letting him feel this, for... everything.

“It still feels unreal to me that we are already married.” He started as you two swayed in the living room. You looked up at him and pecked his lips— which let me tell you, caught him off guard.

“Likewise, how can I marry such a perfect man.” You sighed. Thoma only giggled at you and pull you to him closer.

It was silent after that, just two people deeply in love with each other dancing. The song came to an end but the soft swaying continues.

“Hey, my love?” He stared at you.

“Yes?”

“Can I marry you again?” You looked at him confused but only laughed.

“What do you mean? We just got married two weeks ago though?” You smiled at him as you played with the tail of his hair.

“Yeah, I know, but, I just want to marry you over and over again.” The moment his green eyes locked with yours, your heart skipped a beat. You are sure that your legs is about to give up if you are not holding unto him. This man... really.

You wanted to cry, not because you are sad, but because you are loved like that that this man wants to marry you for eternity. Thoma, why are you doing this to me.

Not knowing how to respond to his love once again, you just kissed him. He smiled and return your affection.

“Thoma, we are not rich to get married again and again.” You tilt your head on the side as you anticipated his answer.

“Well, we don't have to be rich! We don't even need a money or people! We can just get married by ourselves here and taroumaru as the witness!” He giggled at the idea and rubs your wedding ring.

“We can just get married again with paper rings like how I proposed to you! well, uh, even if you deserve jewels and not just a piece of paper but anyway, what do you think? Isn't nice to get married every day?” Thoma beamed at you. You asked yourself how do you still survive from all of his (sweet) shenanigans.

The mention of how he proposed to you brought back memories that you would always remember. It was a sudden decision for him and you that he didn't even prepared a ring, so he used the receipt of your groceries to form it into a ring.

Thoma was a simple man, and you love him dearly, and the thought of marrying him again sounds like another serotonin booster. Well, he is your own dosage of serotonin after all. His radiance is enough for you to keep loving and living.

“Let's get married again then, for evermore.”

side note: get a man who will want to marry you again and again. get a man who is thoma to be exact, mwah mwah!

©kazu-topia, 2022. do not copy or translate my works, thank you!

#idolteyvat #—ein's writing🖋️#—request🌟#interwoven fates #thoma x reader #thoma x y/n #thoma x you #thoma imagines #genshin thoma #genshin impact thoma #thoma fluff #genshin impact x reader #genshin scenarios #thoma scenarios

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antisocialxconstruct · 2 years

Note

What was going through Maksim's head when Ortega found them again at the cafe? How do they feel about the whole conversation? Did they tell the truth about what happened or lie? Any thoughts on Ortega immediately dragging them back into the hero business?

OKAY first off: this is such a good ask thank you for sending it like...... a month ago lmao

it gave me an idea for something relatively undemanding I could do (re-imagine a scene someone else already wrote) in the midst of this absolute creative drought SO..... here's that :V

---

It’s not so much a refuge as a distraction. Maksim doesn’t feel safe here, so much as they feel… removed from other things. People don’t know them here, and there’s very little about it–about the neighborhood, or the furnishings, or what they order for lunch–that would encourage people to draw any worthwhile conclusions. The day drinking might raise an eyebrow now and then, but they’re willing to stomach the passing sense of detached concern from people who have no intention of actually saying anything.

People don’t know them here. So when they hear “Maksim? Is that really you?” over their left shoulder it doesn’t even register at first. That’s not a name they use, not anymore. Not here. And then with a breathless “I can’t believe it!” he steps into their line of sight, materializing out of their blind spot ghost-like and with an abruptness that earns a start and a curse from them.

That used to happen a lot, even when they could rely on both of their eyes, until they got used to the blank fuzz of his shielded thoughts. Out of practice now, it seems. Their mind supplies them with the name a split second before they actually look up to meet his gaze.

Ortega.

He’s smiling. Beaming, really, overcome with the disbelief of finding them, after all this time, here of all places. Or so Maksim imagines, at least. They don’t believe it either, but they’re having a far harder time organizing their thoughts into an appropriate reaction.

“Ortega…? What- jesus. What has it been… almost a decade?”

They’re just as shocked, to be sure. They took such great pains, every single step of the way, to avoid this precise scenario, that they have to assume this is a once-in-a-lifetime-odds kind of coincidence. Beyond improbable… but not impossible, clearly. There’s something else though… coiled tight in the pit of their stomach but distorted beneath the feeling of incredulity, something writhing under a layer of ice.

“Yeah… Seven years,” Ortega breathes, sliding into the seat on the other side of Maksim’s table. Uninvited. And yet unabashed. It was always that way, wasn’t it? Intrusive, too confident and too daring by far. It was the only way he could have shouldered his way as far into their life as he did. The only way he could have earned their begrudging trust before he ever got more.

“I… this is-” Maksim’s gaze falls from Ortega’s face to dart aimlessly across the table as they grasp for words. How many times had they imagined seeing him again in the last seven years? At the Farm? On the run? Back in the city? What had they said to him in all those fantasies?

“A surprise?” When Maksim looks up again they’re staring down the barrel of Ortega’s gaze, intense and unwavering, and they have to fight the urge to shrink away. Then Ortega’s expression cracks into another smile, hesitant at first, but he leans forward and rests his arms on the table, and shakes his head. “I can’t believe it’s really you, Maksim,” he speaks the name again like he’s holding it with kid gloves, almost reverent. “I thought you… I mean they said you were dead, obviously you’re not but…” The way he’s searching Maksim’s face makes their skin crawl. He shifts again, hands fluttering on the tabletop like he wants to reach out and then thinks better of it. “You are… alright, right?”

Maksim swallows. A hairline fracture cuts through the ice, and the thing beneath it twists. “Well I am alive, at least,” they remark, reaching for the half-empty beer slowly warming on the table between the two of them. They miss it by an inch, have to drag their attention off of Ortega to focus on closing their hand around it and bringing it to their lips. “I’m here, having lunch,” they add on the end of a long pull, grimacing at the drifting-toward-bitter aftertaste. “That counts for something, right?”

“I would say so,” Ortega agrees with a bewildered chuckle. “It’s just when you went through the window, I… I guess we all thought… It was a long way down.”

Something twitches at the periphery of Maksim’s expression as they take another drink. They don’t need Ortega to remind them how long the fall was. Or how hard they hit the ground.

“I remember.”

Ortega blinks, leans back abruptly with a wince. “Mierda, right, I’m sorry, it was just… there was an explosion, I got knocked out, they were burning bodies after, the whole thing was chaotic. It’s no wonder some wires got crossed, stories got mixed up…” then he sits forward again, looking so much like he wants to reach forward and take Maksim’s hand that they lean back in response. “But if you survived then where have you been these past years?”

Maksim just huffs out a breath through their nose and flashes Ortega the closest thing to a smile they’ve been able to muster so far. They imagine telling him everything, the whole grim and visceral truth, just to watch the horror settle over his face. Instead they pick up the thread he's already offered them and keep weaving it. "You’re probably expecting a better story than it actually is. I just got lost in the shuffle, like you said. Slipped through the cracks after they scraped me off the pavement. By the time I was conscious again I’d changed hands enough times that they didn’t know who I was, who to contact, who to bill…” The lie feels plausible enough, so long as Ortega doesn’t give the details too much thought. "Between the debts and the recovery time and… the actual…" they make a vague gesture with their hand, wondering which detail of the Heartbreak incident would make a more impactful final point. Ortega saves them from having to choose with a nod and a low sympathetic "hmm," so Maksim finished, "once I could, I just decided to walk away."

"I do understand that," Ortega speaks softly, patience in every word, but Maksim can't shake the feeling there's a bigger unspoken question sitting at the tip of his tongue. "The whole thing was… horribly mishandled. It was a mess."

"And it was in my head, Ricardo."

"Right, shit." Ortega exhales, his brow furrowing and his features tightening with remembered pain. "Steel got rattled too, and he's not even… Did you… get therapy or something at least? We…" He keeps talking, but Maksim's mind is caught on the steel hook of that one word.

Therapy. Therapy? Did they get therapy after walking through that field of corpses, after watching their best friend kill themself mere feet away from them, after having their mind pried open and unspooled? Did they talk to someone after they threw themself out a window at the behest of some… some kind of…

The ice cracks deeper, shudders with the movements of the unnamed ugly thing trying to push its way to the surface. Ortega has no idea what their recovery looked like, the kind of assessments they were subjected to. He doesn't know the first thing about it so there's no point in arguing, but the gall of the question still settles over Maksim like an oil spill.

"I got through it," they say, forcing what they hope is a smile confident enough not to betray the writhing feeling climbing up into their chest. "It was rough for a while but I pulled through, I'm good now."

"I'm glad." Ortega sighs. "I just wish… seven years we all thought you were dead and I've been asking myself what I could have done differently." You could have stopped me. The thought skitters through Maksim's mind but they hold their tongue. "Why didn't you ever reach out to us?"

That must be it. The question he's been aching to ask since he sat down, trying to find the right opening. Why didn't you come back, why didn't you tell us you were alive, why didn't you absolve me. Maksim feels like they can glimpse the thing under the ice as the cracks widen, almost reach out and grab it and finally learn what it is.

"I didn't want to," the words come almost unbidden, and when the troubled creases in Ortega's brow deepen further Maksim realizes a second too late that it was far too honest. "I mean, I just couldn't imagine…" They lean forward, elbows on the table and palms pressed to the sides of their head as they fumble with their earlier demeanor–flustered and tired and not this jagged chill that's overtaken them. "I'd see you in the news, right back to fighting the good fight after it all happened, and I just couldn't imagine putting myself in that position again. I guess I was just scared. I don't think I can fight like I used to, I can't even see like I used to. How much worse could it be next time?"

"Oh… Maksim I'm so sorry." Maksim flinches, gripped by a sudden fear that something would take hold of their arm when they weren't looking, but when they raise their head again Ortega is still sitting with his hands folded in front of him, studying them with a deep frown. “But you didn’t have to pretend you were dead to retire. You could have explained it to us.”

“Didn’t I?” The ragged and rundown persona keeps slipping, and Maksim rolls their eyes with a snort. “If I’d just told you upfront you would have tried to talk me out of it anyway, suggested different counseling, different training, I would have gone through with it to make you happy right up until the moment I cracked and someone else got killed. It was just easier to be gone for good.”

“Easier?” Ortega echoes, and Maksim thinks they can hear an edge creeping into his tone as well. “Maybe for you… I’ve spent seven years believing I caused your death.”

Ortega can believe whatever he likes, and Maksim doesn’t see how that’s their fault. But they don’t imagine that’s the thing that will end this conversation peacefully. “I figured you’d move on eventually.”

“And what, just replace you with someone new?”

“Yes? I’m not the only one who died, isn’t that what you do when a team loses members?”

“Maksim,” Ortega’s eyes grow wide as he searches their expression. “I’m not talking about the team, you and I were- I… I cared about you a great deal. I thought you felt the same.”

Maksim doesn’t have to feign the exasperation they wear openly as they screw their eyes shut and massage their temple. This isn’t a conversation they ever wanted to have, much less like this. “I… wish you had just moved on,” they sigh, unable to conjure up a better response. He was never supposed to care. He was never supposed to hold out for them.

The silence hangs between them for a long, uncomfortable few seconds as Maksim’s gaze drifts toward the diner’s cash register, wondering how they could best remove themself from this encounter once and for all. This was a jarring interruption, a worrying threat to their plans, but it hasn’t unraveled yet. Now they’re just starting to feel like he’s wasting their time. Then at length Ortega’s voice breaks through their thoughts once again, tentative but persistent. “Are you sure you’re doing okay…? I know you already said it but you look like hell, I just…”

In the old days that would have been a perfect opening for a joke, some barbed but mostly good natured comeback. Now Maksim just shoots him a thin-lipped frown. “I’m fine,” they insist, maybe a little too curt to really sound fine. “Sidestep is dead and I’m just living a quiet, normal life.”

“I get it… Sidestep may be dead,” Ortega concedes, as if finally willing himself to make peace with that, with separating that memory from the stranger in front of him, “but I’m glad you’re not.” He pauses then in spite of sounding like he wanted to say more, and when Maksim faces him again they can see some kind of calculations being rapidly run behind his eyes. When they raise an eyebrow he finally adds, “you’re… still a telepath, right?”

The question catches them off-guard and they blink, not immediately sure how to respond. It’s a strange question, it had never even occurred to them to lie about that. Boosts don’t lose their powers, and as far as Ortega knows that’s all they are. Still, the fact that he’s asking at all means… it’s possible? Or at least that he’s willing to entertain the idea? How far could they take that? How much of a smokescreen could they generate around themself?

“It’s just- I assumed when you said you can’t fight like you used to you were talking about your eyesight,” Ortega clarifies, “but then I started wondering if, maybe…”

“Yeah, um… Not… really? Not like before,” Maksim mutters, hoping their hesitation will simply read as surprise that Ortega would intuit something so unusual, or reluctance to discuss it. “My powers are… I feel like I turned them off, like I blocked myself from using them after… I don’t think I could stomach feeling other people in my head again, even if I still could.”

“Ah… I’m sorry.” Ortega slumps back in the booth, clearly crestfallen at this revelation. The pity soaking into his expression as he looks Maksim over turns their stomach. There’s something clawing at their insides trying to get out shouting stop it stop it stop it don’t look at me like that you don’t understand you don’t know anything-

“Why do you ask?” they manage to choke out, but they can hear their own voice trembling.

“I was just thinking, I could have really used the help of a telepath I can trust.” Ortega’s gaze falls and he almost seems to speak this quietly to the table in front of him. He must not have heard the tremor in Maksim’s words, or else interpreted it wrong. With his attention finally off them, Maksim feels for the moment like they have the freedom to study him a little more closely, and for the first time they become aware that he seems… aged. Tired. Grey hair flecking his temples and wrinkles that didn’t use to be there, dark circles under his eyes, all of it subtle enough to seem dignified if he was carrying himself differently. It doesn’t make him look dignified now, just frail.

All at once they can feel the balance of power in the conversation tilting. They can feel that ice falling away. “You still trust me?”

“Of course I do, why wouldn’t I?” He answers so quickly, so earnestly, as if the question hardly needed to be asked. “Although… I guess it doesn’t really matter now.”

The thing inside them finally breaks free and uncoils, presses itself against their ribcage and up into their throat and feels like it could spill itself out into the space between them, writhing and angry and vile and so, so obvious. And in a flash of clarity Maksim understands exactly what they’re feeling.

Contempt.

Contempt for this man sitting before them, holding a torch for someone who’s been dead seven years and insisting that Maksim be that person now. Contempt for someone who refused to change, refused to adapt, clinging now to the only thing that might justify that refusal. You’re still alive, I was right not to let you go.

How dare he. How dare he think he can do this, walk back into their life uninvited, impose himself on them again, and act like nothing changed with seven years and a funeral between them. To sit there and act like he knows them, understands their pain, like he ever knew or understood them in the first place, while swallowing every lie they tell him without question… it’s pathetic.

But maybe it's also… exploitable.

You’re an idiot, they want to say. That trust will get you killed. I’ll make sure of it.

They smile, echoing back the sympathy he had offered them first. “Why don’t you tell me about it anyway?”

#fallen hero #fallen hero rebirth #maksim girard #ricardo ortega #mine #ask #mihqorio #Maksim just like 'hold on you caught me by surprise but I'm shifting into Full Villain Mode'#rom fiction

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ohmyjinsus · 3 years

Text

i wish you would

choi yeonjun x gender neutral! reader

exes to ??? || 2.3k

I’ve started this new thing where I put all of taylor swift’s songs on shuffle and write a fic based off the first one that comes on (let's see how long this lasts lmao) - this is the first one uwu

summary: after impulsively breaking up with yeonjun, you realize that was the stupidest decision you’ve ever made and spend the rest of your week wishing you could have him back (idk just go listen to the song)

“I can’t do this anymore.” Your voice is so quiet, you aren’t even sure Yeonjun can hear it through the phone.

“Is this because of last night?” He asks. “I’m sorry y/n, I know you’re busy with school. I didn’t think you’d want to come.”

“No.” You don’t mind that he went to a party without you. He’s right, you would have said no anyway. “I heard you were getting a little too friendly with some people.”

“Are you jealous?” He sounds shocked. “We’ve been together for 2 years, you know I would never cheat on you.”

“I know,” you reassure him. “I’m just worried.”

“Worried about what?” His voice is softer now.

You wish you were having this conversation in person so you could see his facial expressions, but you’re so upset. You had to talk to him as soon as your friend called you. You’d already been insecure about your relationship these past few weeks. When you heard that your boyfriend was flirting with her, your anxiety got even worse.

“I know you love me,” you say slowly, sitting down on your bed. “But we haven’t seen each other in a week, Yeonjun. Maybe you don’t miss me as much as I miss you.”

“I can’t believe you would even think that. I don’t want anyone but you.”

“I’m sorry,” you tell him. “I just miss you.”

“I know baby,” he sounds just as upset as you. “I’m sorry too.”

“What do we do?” You grab the plushie on your bed. He won it for you at some carnival you went to ages ago. You’ve been sleeping with it ever since.

“What do you want to do?” Yeonjun asks. “In my head, I know you’re right. I can’t see you as often as I used to, but I don’t want to leave you.”

The thought of more nights like these makes you want to cry. Just a few months ago, you were spending all your time at his house. Staying up until 2am talking about everything was your normal. Then all of a sudden work and school and countless other things popped up and now everything’s fallen apart. Yeonjun’s been a constant in your life for the past two years, even longer, but the two of you can’t keep up with it anymore.

Not being a part of his day breaks your heart. Hearing about what he’s up to from other people hurts even more. You don’t know if you can handle that. You’ve already drifted apart. Staying together might just make things worse.

“I think we should break up.”

“y/n no,” he whispers. “Please don’t.”

“I can’t-”

“Can I see you? Right now?”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” Yeonjun only lives a few streets over. It would take him less than 5 minutes to get to your house.

“Why not?” He asks.

“I’ll cry.” Your voice gets even smaller. You hug your plushie tighter, trying to ignore the fact that it smells like him.

“y/n, I just want to give you a hug.”

“No,” you tell him, surprised at how firm you sound. “No,” you say again, softer. “I can’t handle that right now, I might change my mind.”

“I want you to change your mind.”

“Yeonjun, come on,” you sigh. This would be so much easier if he agreed with you. “I don’t want to drag this on any longer than necessary.” He stays quiet for a few seconds.

“Okay,” he says, finally. “If you want to split up, that’s okay.”

“Are you sure?” You ask. Part of you hopes he’ll fight with you and tell you he’s not leaving. Another part of you is relieved.

“No,” he admits. “Are you?”

“No.” That’s when the tears start to fall. You have no idea if you’re doing the right thing. The two of you have had conversations like this before, but none of them have been this serious. You’ve always been able to quickly resolve your issues, but you don’t think that’s possible this time. “But it’s for the best.”

“Sure, y/n.”

“Thanks.” You don’t know what to say. Yeonjun’s your first boyfriend, and this is your first breakup. You hope he can’t hear you crying through the phone.

“I’ll come pick up my things later,” he sounds like he might cry too. “I’ll text you.”

You nod, then realize he can’t see you.

“Okay.”

“I guess there’s nothing else to say then.”

“No, not from me.”

“Me too.”

“Bye Yeonjun.” You don’t even try to hide your sniffles at this point.

“Bye y/n,” he replies. “Love you.”

“Love you too.”

You hang up before he can say anything else.

===

You’re sitting on the floor with Yeonjun’s sweater wrapped around you. It’s been a week since you spoke to him. He hasn’t picked his things up yet, which you’re grateful for. That’s when the breakup will be real. You wish it wasn’t. If you could go back in time, you never would have hung up the phone that night.

You’ve been up at 2am countless times, thinking about Yeonjun, being with Yeonjun, but here you are, missing him instead. Every time you see headlights through your window, you pray it’s him. When your phone lights up, you hope you’ll pick up and hear his voice.

You would call him yourself, but you have a strong feeling he hates you. Ending your relationship was a stupid decision. You shouldn’t have done it in the heat of the moment. The two of you have been through so much together, surely you could make it through this rough patch. That’s what you tell yourself.

You can’t help but wonder if he’s thinking the same thing.

===

Yeonjun hasn’t been himself since you broke up. After that phone call, he locks himself in his room for days, refusing to speak to anyone. He ignores all his friends’ messages, unable to bring himself to talk to anyone. The only person he wants to speak to is you.

There are so many things he wishes he had done differently. He should’ve been more affectionate. He should’ve told you he loved you more often. He should’ve tried harder and been better. And he definitely shouldn’t have flirted with everyone. He knows it upset you but it’s just in his nature. He didn’t mean to push your buttons like that. No wonder it’s what broke you.

He contemplates showing up at your door every day, every hour even. But he’s scared you won’t answer, or that you’ll slam the door in his face. Maybe you’d yell and cuss him out for bothering you. He doesn’t know if it’s smarter to try and win you back or to just move on and forget you.

Yeonjun can’t sleep tonight, too consumed with all the memories of you. Earlier, he found a birthday card you wrote him early on in your relationship. You signed it with “love, y/n.” Although he’d never admit it, it made him cry then. It makes him cry even more now.

All he knows is that he needs fresh air. He runs downstairs, grabs his car keys and leaves. He doesn’t know where he’s going, he just needs to get out.

Now it’s 2am and he’s driving past your house.

He’s spent countless days there, in your room, falling in love with you over and over again. Since you split up, he’s been driving by your house every day. He doesn’t have the courage to walk up to your door. He can’t even find it in himself to call you.

He puts his foot down, speeding up to get past your house quicker. He’s going 70 in a 40 but he doesn’t care. This is the last time he’ll do this, he tells himself.

But as Yeonjun pulls onto his own driveway, he hesitates. Maybe it was the card, he’s not sure. He can’t get your smile out of his head.

Something makes him put the car into reverse.

===

You know it’s late, but you need fresh air. Whenever you felt this way before, Yeonjun would take you for a walk around the block. He said it would help clear your head. He was right.

All the reminders of him are still in your room. You don’t have the energy to put everything away. It scares you to imagine life without him. But sitting alone with those memories feels just as terrible.

Stuffing your phone in your pocket, you sneak down the stairs and outside, hoping no one will hear you.

It’s weird being out here without him. You miss holding his hand and making him laugh. If you’re being honest, you miss everything about him. He’s everywhere you look, constantly in your mind.

While you think, a car comes speeding by, making you jump. Your immediate thought is to call Yeonjun. Whenever you were out by yourself, he would always come pick you up right away. You wish he would do that now. You felt so safe with him. Now, you just feel alone.

Checking your phone, you see it’s 2:15. You pull your sweater tighter around you. Yeonjun will probably come get it soon. It’s one of his favourites.

As you turn around and start walking back to your house, your phone rings. You glance at it, expecting it to be a random number.

When you see Yeonjun’s name, you almost drop your phone. Once you answer, you don’t even know what to say.

“y/n.” You almost start crying. It’s only been a week, but it feels like a lifetime since you’ve heard his voice. “Why are you out so late?”

“What do you mean?” You stop walking, wondering how he knows you’re out.

“I can see you by the stop sign.” Your head whips around, scanning the area, looking for him. “I’m on your left.”

You spot him, a few metres away, standing right by his car. When he notices you looking, he starts walking in your direction. You can’t move. Part of you thinks this might just be a dream.

Once he’s in front of you, it takes all your strength not to throw yourself into his arms. You end the call, putting your phone back in your pocket.

“You didn’t answer my question,” he says.

“Hm?” You can’t form a coherent though, you’re just so shocked to see him again.

“Why are you out right now?”

“Why are you out?” He laughs at how you avoid the question.

“I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

You have to kiss him. Right now. The second your lips are on his, his arms wrap around you, pulling you closer. You missed this. You missed him.

“I couldn’t stop thinking about you either,” you whisper when you pull away. Yeonjun’s still holding you tight.

“It’s been a terrible week,” you admit.

“I know, right?” He kisses you again. “I’m sorry, y/n.”

“Why are you sorry? I should be apologizing.” He shakes his head.

“I’m such a terrible boyfriend, I should have-”

“You came back.” You cut him off right away. “I pushed you away, but you came back.”

“I did.”

“Thank you,” you say quietly.

“I missed you too much.” You nod, agreeing with him.

Another car speeds past as the two of you stand there, in each other’s arms. That’s when you remember how late it is.

“What do we do now?”

“Let me take you home.” He unwraps himself from you, taking your hand instead. Once your fingers are interlaced, you give him a squeeze. He smiles.

“y/n, promise me something,” Yeonjun says as you walk over to his car.

“Sure.”

“Never leave me again.” You roll your eyes as he opens the passenger side door for you, but you still give him a kiss.

“Don’t worry,” you tell him. “I won’t.”

He holds your hand the entire way back to your house. Normally you would scold him, telling him how unsafe that is, even if it is a short trip. You don’t mind it today.

When he drops you off on your porch, you beg him to come inside. He laughs and tells you no.

“I’ll see you tomorrow y/n.”

“For sure?” He holds out his pinky so you do the same. Once he pinky swears, you smile.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, and the day after that, and the day after that, and the day after that-”

“Don’t make me break up with you again.” His eyes go wide. “What?”

“So we’re back together then?”

“Um,” you hesitate. “Yes?”

“Good.” He kisses your cheek. “That’s what I wanted.” You smile up at him, glad to have him back. You really meant it when you said you wouldn’t leave him again.

“Me too.”

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nostalgiabones · 3 years

Text

Simple Sunday Afternoons // CH

This is just a random thing I wrote one day after talking to @calumrose as always lmao. I didn’t intend to post it but I think it’s a just a nice soft Sunday so, I thought I would! I also just wanted to make the point that the little moodboards I’ve made aren’t representative of what any of the ‘characters’ look like — they just represent the concept of the blurb! Let me know what you think, and as always, reblogs and feedback is so appreciated! ❤️

Word count: 4.2k

“Good morning,”

A warm smile rises on Calum’s lips at the words as he flips a pancake in a pan, clad in only his grey joggers and a messy mop of curls upon his head, along with the glasses he’s taken to wearing more often recently. He doesn’t hear the giggles or yawns of your daughter, just some of her usual sounds in the morning, and assumes you’re entering the kitchen alone without her.

He doesn’t have a chance to turn around and check before you’re wrapping your arms around his waist — his warm skin soothing against your own. It’s not often you get little moments alone like this — not without a baby in between the two of you, either resting in his arms or your own. Not that it’s anything to complain about; the two of you love Mara more than life itself. You just miss getting to hold Calum for a little longer in the mornings.

“Yes, it is,” Calum replies, taking one of your hands in his own, lifting it to his face and brushing his lips over your knuckles. “Where’s the little one?”

You rest your cheek against him, just wanting to be close, wanting your skin on his. “I just put her down for an early nap, she was kinda fussy. I think her teeth are coming in.”

He nods, pouting at the thought of his sweet daughter being in pain.

“We’ll have to keep an eye on her,” He states, and you nod in agreement. “She’s probably going to be asleep a while, isn’t she? Do you want to go back to bed?”

You take a sip of coffee from the mug on the counter, not caring whether it was his or one he made for you. Everything he has is yours, and vice versa — even something as insignificant as coffee. He feels the same way about your heart.

“We finally have some time together, I don’t want to waste it sleeping,” You murmur, your palm sliding down his back, the gesture familiar and soothing to him. Goosebumps break out over his skin.

“Okay, well..” He turns down the heat on the stove, moving the hot pan to a cold ring in order not to burn himself when he gets distracted by you. He spins around, a hand landing on either side of your hip, his nose brushing yours as he leans in. “I could just stand here...” he interrupts himself by brushing his lips against yours. “And kiss you instead.”

You sigh against his lips and bask in the moment, one that is so rare nowadays. He notices you pout and he chuckles — his warm palms landing on the small of your back.

“What’s up with you, pouty?” He asks, keeping your face close, his eyes searching your face.

“I miss kissing you,” You whine, and he can’t help but kiss you again with the way you’re looking at him. You think back to Sunday’s before Mara — it feels like a different lifetime, but it wasn’t so long ago. Now days are filled with tears, smiles, happy baby giggles and messy meal times — but you wouldn’t have it any other way. Even if the only time you got to be close to Calum was at bedtime, once Mara had gone down.

“You can kiss me whenever you want, baby,” He replies, his pointer finger brushing up your cheek as he furrows his eyebrows at you.

“I know, but we don’t get time anymore,” You remind him, and he nods. You know you both need to make more of a conscious effort to spend quality time with each other — instead of trying to clean the whole house whilst Mara is napping. “It’s nice to be close to you like this.”

“Maybe Mara should grow some teeth more often.” He jokes, and you slap his chest playfully as he laughs.

“Don’t say that! She’s in pain,” You scold him, your hands pressed against his chest as he holds you close. “You won’t be saying that when she wakes up in a bad mood and won’t sleep tonight.”

He knows you’re right. As much as he jokes, there’s nothing he hates more than seeing his sweet girl in pain — whether it’s her teeth or anything else.

“Touché.” He smiles, kissing you once more. “Do you want to eat? I made pancakes.”

“But that means we have to stop kissing,” You sigh, and he can’t help but laugh at you once more. Calum brushes his lips against yours, his hands rubbing up and down the tops of your arms as you stand there. There’s something about seeing you in one of his t-shirts that goes straight to his heart every single time — even after being married for several years.

“Come on, pouty. Let’s have one meal uninterrupted before we have to deal with a grumpy Mara.”

***

“Cal, I need to get up,”

The sounds of Mara’s cries fill your ears as you gently push on Calum’s shoulders; trying to get him to move from where he’s fallen asleep on your lap so you can get up to get her. The two of you decided to watch a movie (or as much as you can get away with) whilst Mara slept, yet less than halfway through, Calum had fallen asleep with his face pressed against your chest.

“Mara is crying,” You murmur, brushing your fingers through his hair to rouse him a little more as he wakes up. “I need to go get her.”

He shifts in your lap and leans on one arm so you can get up, almost face planting the sofa once you stand up and he’s left there alone. He yawns and listens to the soothing words slipping from your lips as you approach Mara’s bedroom, already knowing you’ll be met with her sad eyes and messy hair. Her cries slow down but your voice gets louder as you head back to the lounge, and he sits up so he can take her.

“Look who it is,” You kiss Mara’s temple as you carry her through to where Calum is, her tired eyes lighting up as she spots her dad. Her skin is warm and flushed from sleep, much like Calum’s — the similarity between your husband and daughter when they’ve both woken up makes your heart melt.

“Hi, honey,” Calum greets her, reaching out for her from his spot on the sofa as he wakes up a little more. She yawns and her lips curl into a small smile as you set her down in his lap, a hand coming to hold either side of her as he gets her. You sit down next to them, unable to stop yourself from smiling at their matching puffy eyes and flushed cheeks. “How was your nap, hey? Are those naughty teeth still hurting you?”

He gets an answer through her gestures — as he speaks, she presses her lips to his shoulder, like she was trying to find some relief for her angry gums. “Oh, my poor girl. Shall we get you something that’ll help, hey? I think some yoghurt might work better than my shoulder, little one.”

Calum stands up from the sofa with a dramatic groan as he lifts her, kissing her forehead as she whines in his arms, rubbing at her heavy eyes with little fists. He opens the fridge as he hums under his breath, picking out her favourite apricot yoghurt and a spoon in the hopes of soothing her mouth.

“Why don’t we go for a walk to the park in a bit?” You ask, watching as Calum sets Mara down in her high chair. He pulls up a chair in front of her so he can feed her - knowing he’s about to get as messy as she usually does. “It’s a nice day out, and we can walk Duke at the same time.”

Calum nods, coaxing Mara to open her mouth as he feeds her. “That’s a good idea. Although I think we’re gonna need a bath after this.”

“We?”

“Do you see how much yoghurt is on her hands?” He laughs, leaning forward to kiss Mara’s forehead. In the process, she reaches out for him, the sticky, dairy snack landing on his own skin. “I think there’s more on her than in her mouth.”

He’s right, she’s messy, but looks significantly less uncomfortable than she did when waking up — so it’s worth it.

***

“Watch her eyes whilst I wash her hair, Cal,”

Calum steps out of the stream of the shower so you can rinse Mara’s hair, after lathering a sweet smelling shampoo through her curls. Breakfast had been a messy affair, and in an effort to save both time and water, you decided to have a family shower together.

He cups his hand over her forehead as you gently rinse the shampoo away, your fingertips smoothing over her scalp as content noises slip from her lips. The smile on her face tells you how happy she is to have your joint attention; loving nothing more than being inbetween the two of you.

“What does she find so funny about showering?” Calum asks, laughing himself as he holds Mara, lips brushing her wet cheeks as she giggles. He grabs the sponge to clean under her chin, making sure all of the yoghurt is gone, the familiar smell of her lavender body wash a comforting one. She tries to reach for the sponge as he does — her eyes fixated on the purple object.

“I don’t know, actually.” You reply, watching her eyes follow you as you move to wash Calum’s hair, too, noticing how much the blonde has grown out and his roots have come through. “We need to swap places again.”

“We should let Mara shower with us everyday if it means you washing my hair,” He suggests, met with a playful eye roll from you. Showering together was something he’d do everyday if he could — it’s one of his favourite intimate moments with you, a wonderful way to start his day. It’s more difficult to find time for it with Mara now though.

“I don’t know why you’re acting like I don’t do it even when your hands are free,” You reply and he laughs, knowing you’re right. Having his hair played with whether you’re washing it or just running your fingers through it is one of his favourite things, especially now it’s longer — a way to instantly make him relax. “You’re just using Mara as an excuse today, isn’t he, honey? He’s using you to make me wash his hair.”

She giggles and gives you a sweet wide mouthed smile, one that you wish you could freeze in time and see forever. One that soon will be accompanied by the teeth that are causing her so much pain.

“She doesn’t mind,” He pouts as he looks at her, lips brushing over her forehead as she smiles. She follows your lead and reaches up to put her own little hands into his hair, tiny fingers grabbing the curls in an attempt to help you. You laugh at her action, with a “are you trying to help mum, sweetheart?”

Calum grimaces but can’t help but laugh as he feels Mara tugging at his hair, knowing she’s trying to help, but isn’t quite as gentle as you are. “I think you need some lessons in hair washing, my love, it feels more like you’re trying to rip my hair out.”

It hurts, but her smile makes him ache in a completely different way.

***

“Is her pushchair in the garage?”

Calum grabs a teething ring from the fridge with his free hand as he nods, Mara occupying the other as she clings to his shoulder. It’s been a few hours since her morning nap and he knows she’s getting tired again; evident through her rubbing her eyes and her little whines. He knows she’ll fall asleep on the way to the park.

“Yeah, it’s near the back, behind the car.” He replies, kissing Mara’s forehead as she leans against his chest. She yawns and he rocks her in his arms, resting his cheek ontop of her head and holds her close. “Are you tired, little moon? That shower has made you sleepy, hey?”

His voice is a soft murmur as he talks to her; the tone one that is reserved for when he speaks to her. He’s so gentle and loving whenever he speaks to her and it makes your heart melt.

“Here we go,” You open the door and push her pram into the entrance to the house, unbuckling the straps so Calum can put her in. “Do you think she’s wrapped up enough? I don’t know if it’s as warm as it looks.”

Calum lifts her in his arms and pats her back, rocking her on the spot as he judges the weather. She’s comfy in a little t-shirt, hoodie and leggings, complete with baby old skool vans that Calum got her, to match his.

“How about a hat, too? Should we get you a beanie to match dad, baby?” He asks, knowing it’ll keep her ears warm if it gets a little chilly. You smile and head to her bedroom to get one of her little hats; her collecting growing with every one that Calum buys. “Come on, sweetheart, lets get you all cosy.”

He moves her away from his body to put her down and she cries, little hands trying to hold onto the neck of his own hoodie. Calum knows she’s being fussy because she’s getting tired and her mouth hurts, yet it makes him sad all the same. “You’re okay, honey, shh.”

Calum manages to set her down in the chair without too much of a fuss; making sure she’s sat down properly, and has her little elephant in reach as well as her pacifier. He leans down in front of her and kisses her nose, making a little ‘mwah’ noise as he does to try and soothe her and make her laugh. It doesn’t though — she still tries to hold onto him so he’ll pick her up again.

“What’s with the tears, angel? What’s the matter?” He soothes, staying close to her and gently wiping her tears away with his thumb. She sniffles and his heart aches at the sight. “You can go to sleep when we get walking, okay? You’re alright, my love.”

It’s moments like these where he’s happy that her pushchair is back facing, so she can see the two of you whilst you walk. You join them near the door, Mara’s beanie in your hands, a pout forming on your lips when you spot Mara in her pushchair.

“Oh, baby, what’s wrong?” You ask, smoothing your fingers down her cheeks to soothe her. You tuck the hat over her head, making sure it covers her little ears to keep her warm. Calum hands you her soft blanket, and you tuck it around her knees so she’s snug — almost certain she’ll fall asleep as soon as you set off. “Your poor mouth is making you so sad, isn’t it? We don’t like having a sad girl.”

Calum grabs Duke’s lead and attaches it to his collar, handing it to you before he takes the handle of Mara’s pushchair. “Let’s go, my loves.”

You lock the door behind you before setting off; one hand holding Duke’s lead, and Calum takes the other — his calloused fingers slip between your own, warm and comforting. It’s such a small gesture yet it reminds you of the love between you both. Calum’s other hand pushes Mara’s pushchair at a steady pace. It’s a lovely spring afternoon — blue skies and birds singing in the trees, with just a slight breeze.

“It’s so nice to be out in the sun,” You comment, and Calum nods in agreement. His eyes land on Mara and he notices her squinting at the sun; stopping for a moment before he pulls the hood of her pushchair a little further up to shade her. “Is that better, honey? Can you see now?”

“It feels like we haven’t done this for a while.” Calum says, his thumb rubbing back and forth over the palm of your hand as you walk. He can’t help but feel a small amount of guilt nagging at his mind, knowing he’s spent a lot of time working recently. He’s always home for bedtime, but he’s always tired too — he knows you need to spend more quality time together. “It’s nice.”

“It is,” You reply, squeezing his hand in return. “When are you in the studio next week?”

Calum doesn’t answer for a moment as he thinks about the timing of you asking — like you also know that him being in the studio has meant less time together.

“I’m not going to go in,” He replies, and he knows it’s the right thing to do. “I miss you. I want to spend time with you and Mara this week, they can manage without me.”

It’s a small relief to hear the words. You never want to force Calum away from the studio, but he’s always in a different mindset when he writes. It’ll do him good to be away for a week — so you can spend more time wrapped in each other and with Mara.

You nod before speaking. “I’m so proud of you though, Cal. The songs are sounding great so far.”

A smile rises on his lips at the words, and he raises your joint hands to your lips so he can brush his lips against your knuckles.

“Thank you, honey. I know it’s a lot when we first start writing. I don’t mean to be distant, it’s just hard to get out of my head when I’ve been writing.” Calum explains, yet you don’t need him to; it’s a cycle you’ve witnessed several times throughout your relationship. You nod as he speaks.

“I know, Cal. It’s okay though.” You reassure him, leaning your head against his shoulder as you walk. “It’s all part of who you are, and I love you for you.”

Nothing else needs to be said.

It’s then that the two of you realise the gentle movement of the wheels of the pushchair against the pavement has sent Mara to sleep, and she’s tucked up under her blanket, fast asleep. Her cheeks are rosy red from the warmth and her sore gums, her little hands tucked up against her face. Calum smiles at the sight, reaching into the pram to push her curls away from her face.

“She’s so sweet.” He murmurs, his heart melting when she leans into his touch, even in her sleep.

“She’s all you,” You reply, watching as she wiggles in her sleep. From her wild curls to her full cheeks and pouty lips, every inch of her reminds you of Calum. He disagrees, though.

He shakes his head.

“No… she doesn’t get her temper and grumpy faces from me.”

Your mouth opens in shock and you playfully hit his arm as he laughs. “Hey! You know for a fact that her grumpy morning face is all from you, don’t try and put that on me.”

“Yeah, yeah,” He replies, leaning to kiss you in a silent playful apology. “Whatever you say, my love.”

***

“Should we sit down here for a bit?”

Calum nods and puts the break on Mara’s pushchair, where she’s still sleeping soundly, in between the two of you as you sit down.

“She’s been asleep for a while, there’s no way she’s sleeping tonight.” Calum tells you, and you fear he might be right, even though she needs the sleep with her teeth coming in. “Do you think we should wake her up?”

You gently push her curls away from her face as she snoozes, your heart melting at her pouty lips all smushed up as she sleeps. You realise it has been over an hour since she went to sleep, and that she’ll feel even worse later on if she can’t sleep.

“Yeah, as much as I don’t want to,” You pout, feeling how warm her skin is under your touch. “It’ll do her good to have some fresh air and wake up a bit.”

Calum gently moves the blanket from her lap and pats her tummy, slowly trying to rouse her. Ever since she was born, Mara had been a heavy sleeper - never one to be easily woken up. Maybe she did get that from you. There’d be times where Calum would take her outside with him in the morning to watch the sun rise and she’d happily sleep in his arms, undisturbed by any movement.

“Mara…” Calum murmurs, undoing the buckles so he’d be able to pick her up once she wakes up. He didn’t want to startle her, and knows she’ll just go back to sleep if he rocks her. “Wake up, sweetheart.”

He notices Mara twitch and start sucking on her pacifier — a sign that she’s a little more awake than she was. He brushes his thumb over her cheek and she whines, screwing her eyes up when she realises that she’s outside. She stretches, reaching her arms out for a moment and closing her eyes once more when she relaxes.

“I love watching her wake up.” You comment, chuckling as she very slowly comes round. Calum decides she’s awake enough to move her — carefully slipping his hands underneath her and pulling her up to his chest. “Hi, baby.”

Calum groans dramatically as he gets her settled in his lap and a few cries slip from Mara’s lips at the disturbance; fists lifting to rub her eyes as she wakes up. She sniffles and sucks harder on her pacifier, burying her face against Calum’s chest as he holds her.

“Good afternoon, my love,” Calum murmurs, rubbing her back with his fingertips as he cradles her. “Are you back with us, hey? You’ve been asleep for a long time, honey.”

You know she has no idea what he’s saying, but she loves hearing his voice all the same. He gives her a moment to wake up, brushing his fingers through her hair and cuddling her against him.

“Look how red her cheeks are,” You mention, pouting at the sight — rosy red from how sore her gums are. “Our poor baby.”

He lifts her up so she’s basically standing on his legs, her face in front of his - her hands lifting to cover her eyes from the light. There’s a few families around, children playing and birds singing — a lot of different sights and noises for her to take in. It’s a peaceful day — a feeling of contentment overcoming both you and Calum.

“Hi, little moon,” Calum kisses her pouty lips and gets her settled in his arms, a hand underneath her to keep her sat up. She yawns and her eyes land on you, a smile on her lips as she realises you’re there. “Oh, there’s a smile! We haven’t seen one of those for a little while. Should we get you home soon and have some dinner? How does that sound?”

Calum decides to carry her on the way home for a little while, and your heart melts at the sight — the way he points out different trees and her curious eyes take in the new sights. There’s no one else you want to discover more of the world with.

***

When Calum said Mara wouldn’t sleep that night… he was right. After an hour of rocking her in her room to no avail, you decide to let her join your movie night; there was no point in stressing yourself and Mara out if she didn’t feel like sleeping.

“She gets her stubbornness from you too,” Calum announces, kissing Mara’s temple as he sits down on the sofa next to you with her in his arms. Duke is curled up on one side of you, a blanket thrown over your knees as you waited for Calum to bring Mara down to join you both. “She is not sleeping anytime soon.”

Her big brown eyes look at you from her spot on Calum’s lap — evident that no sleep is about to take place. You laugh at Calum’s words and roll your eyes, shaking your head as Mara reaches out for you.

“Yeah, come here, sweetheart,” You take her and settle her in your lap, brushing your fingers through her hair. “Dad is so mean, isn’t he?”

Calum joins you under your blanket and throws his arm around your shoulder, pulling you both close to him. His cheek rests against your head as he looks at Mara, seeing so much of both you and him in her. He finds the discarded teething ring and hands it to her, hoping it’ll settle her down if it soothes her a little.

“Hey, don’t tell her that,” He replies, his free hand stroking her cheek as she yawns. “You’re meant to be on my side, sweetheart.”

“Sorry, we’re ganging up on you on this occasion, babe.” You shrug your shoulders, rubbing your hand down Mara’s back as she settles in his lap.

Mara finally falls asleep a little later that night curled up in Calum’s arms on the sofa — a warm bottle of milk managing to help her drift off. At the same time, you’re fast asleep with your head in Calum’s lap, and he decides that Sunday’s are his favourite day.

And that with his little family... every day feels like Sunday.

***

Ask-box — feedback is always so appreciated!

Masterlist

Taglist: @irwinkitten @wildflowergrae @luckyduckydoo @letstaketheups-and-downs @jazzyangel242 @cashworthy @babylon-corgis @norawashere @monsteramongmikey @late-nightdevil @maluminspace @fluffsshawn @xhaileyreneex @flowerthug @calpops @youngblood199456 @wokeupinjapanisabop @banditocth @cashtonasfuck @5-secondsofcolor @g-l-pierce @monsteramongmgc @calmlftv @mantlereid @treatallwithkindness @another-lonely-heart @calumrose @inlovehoodx @mermaidcashton @everydayimfangirling@b-easybreezy @ilumxna @malumsmermaid @opheliaaurora23 @talkfastromance4 @zhangyixingxing1 @everyscarisahealingplace @mateisit-balsamic @saphseoul @suchalonelysunflower @findingliam-o @castaway-cashton @megz1985 @notinthesameguey @calumscalm @karajaynetoday @metalandboybands @littledrummeraussie @vxlentinecal @itjustkindahappenedreally @queenalienscherrypie @xxxstormyninixxx @chicken-ona-stick @hoodhoran @harrys-shrooms @midnightash

#I love Mara so much she’s the OG #calum hood blurbs #5sos blurbs #dad!5sos blurbs #dad sos blurbs #dad!sos blurbs #dadsos blurbs #myblurbs #calum hood fics #chblurbs #maramaau #5sos fics #5sos au #calum hood x reader #5sos x reader

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corysmiles · 3 years

Note

IT IS TIME FOR ANOTHER ENTRY IN THE POTION AU!!

This is full of nothing and fluff, so prepare lmao

After a while, they began organizing group dinners, where they would all meet up in the evening and eat together. It took a bit of convincing Tommy's parents, but they accepted more easily when they realized it was just between close friends. Wilbur was already living on his own so it was no problem and Phil always was a free spirit.

And so, at least once a week, they met up at Techno's abode to spend the night together.

Tommy was elated to see all of the furniture now 10 times his size, and all the objects and decoration. "We're gonna have to try and play Hide and Seek, big man. Because this looks like the best fucking playground!" Wilbur, meanwhile, was looking in awe at the whole thing. It felt weird to be so not rightly scaled, but he got used to it soon enough.

Phil was the most surprising of all, due to the fact that he wasn't surprised at all. Even unbothered, in fact. Techno wondered if he was faking it to make him feel better, but everything seemed honest. For someone who claims to never have interacted with giants, he acted as if this was his everyday life. One day he wanted to ask him about that, but he figured those were not the time.

And so they would gather around, bringing each a part of the meal so they could enjoy together.

Sometimes, techno would drink the potion and join them, other times, he would stay at his regular size and simply enjoy the conversation. It was fine like that, Techno liked it. And his friends didn't seem to mind so it was perfect. (Well, Phil kind of minded, but he was always like that whenever he as much as looked at the potion so that wasn't really anything to go by.)

But it was nice, Wilbur would even bring his guitar from time to time, noticing Techno had a violin. He hasn't touched the instrument in a while but seeing Wilbur play the guitar, it was very tempting.

"You should try and play again, Techno! We could even make a duet! That would be fun"

"Maybe one day, yeah… but I would need to practice, it's been years."

"Well I don't know violin" Phil perked up "but I'm around Tommy almost everyday, so I'm used to bad sounds" he chuckled

"WHAT'S THAT SUPPOSED TO MEAN??"Tommy argued, baffled, which made the other three laugh.

"But yeah, I think I'm gonna try to play again, it could be fun."

"How did you even get a violin this size? Are there giant shop owners ?"

Techno crackled at that "Na. I made it myself. Took a while, but I'm proud of the result."

Wilbur made an "ooohh" before returning to his meal with a smile.

It was pretty quiet for a while, everyone enjoying the silence before Wilbur perked up again.

"I'm wondering, are there giant animals? Like cows or chicken? How do you eat?"

Phil's fork almost dropped on the plate and looked at Wil with wide eyes, while Tommy added "hey yeah! You never eat with us when you're all big, how come?"

Techno smirked a bit at the question, and his hand reached for a counter. "Actually" he said, grabbing and showing an object they knew all too well "This is why I brought the potion in the first place."

Wilbur looked confused, but kept smiling, while Tommy exclaimed "wait, really?!?"

He chuckled "yeah. If creatures like that exist, I never found any. So I started hunting and eating stuff at human size, so when the potion effects wears off, it's like I ate a meal my size. That's how it started, pretty funny when you think about it."

Wilbur laughed a bit "yeah, who would've thought it would lead to this."

"Not me, that's for sure" techno confirmed.

The rest of the meal was spent in comfortable silence. Yet he could feel another question lingered in the brunette's tongue. Carefully, he bopped his hair with one of his fingers, and ruffled his hair gently, which made Wilbur laugh. It wasn't holding yet, but he was getting better at the whole contact thing. "What's stuck in that head of yours, Wilbur?"

The other continued to laugh a bit even after techno stopped, and he sheepishly smiled. "Well, I have a question, but it might come off as very rude, so I don't know if I should ask."

Phil turned to Wilbur, with an almost scolding glare "wilbur, don-"

"It's alright, Phil." He lifted a hand before turning his gaze towards Wilbur "ask away."

"Well… About the, hm… myths. Is that… is any of it true?" He finally said, clearly trying to word it inoffensively.

It was vague enough that Tommy didn't know what he was talking about, and Phil stayed silent, though his brows furrowed.

Techno bore a small, earnest smile. There was something that could be mistaken for sadness, but it wasn’t quite.

"Maybe a long time ago, but not that I know of. Giants heard of it too, but from tales and legends taking place so long ago the line between fiction and reality is a huge blur." he couldn't blame Wilbur for his curiosity, and he was surprised the question didn't even make him nervous. He was glad. Very glad.

"And I didn't meet a lot of giants in my lifetime, but none of them did it, so yeah. Maybe it was true at one point, but I think if it still was, humans would clearly be aware of it."

Wilbur hummed, satisfied with the answer. He took another bite of his meal "yeah, I mean to us, it's only a myth, so it makes sense. Thanks."

"No problem?" Techno had an amused smile on his face. Wilbur was a weird one sometimes, asking the weirdest or scariest things with only a childish smile on his face.

Tommy turned to look at wilbur, then technoblade, then wilbur again, before speaking “What the fuck are you two talking abou-”

“Nothing” They hummed in unison.

Eventually, the night fell completely and it was time for the humans to go home. They waved goodbye and walked toward the exit, but before they walked through the door, Wilbur turned around sharply and prompted "Can I sleep at your house tonight?"

Techno, phil and tommy were all taken aback. "You can go home if you want" he reassured the two blonds "I just really like Techno's house."

"Uhh" techno hesitated. It's not like Wilbur was in any danger, he was careful not to fall from heights… and he would be dead sooner than letting his friends get hurt.

"You don't have to, if you would rather sleep alone" the brunette was quick to add once he saw the small tension in Techno's stance.

"I think it'd be fine. I spent nights at your house after all, it's only fair. Yeah, you can stay." Techno settled on, earning another bright smile from the human.

After a couple of minutes, it was just the two of them. It was a bit awkward, seeing as it was the first time Techno was at real size on a one on one. But Wilbur didn't seem to see it that way, enjoying the view.

"Want me to join you down there?" He asked.

"Nope! You don't have to worry about a thing!" Wilbur simply replied, grabbing on a drawer handle and slowly making his way up. Techno was quick to put his hand below in case he fell.

"You could have warned me!" Techno complained, to which the other simply laughed a quick "sorry". Not stopping at all.

After almost falling only twice (and techno almost getting a heart attack two times), Wilbur made it onto a safe platform. The two sighed,one from exhaustion, the other from relief. And he laughed again.

"Tommy wasn't lying. This house really is an amazing playground." He stated, earning a snort from Techno.

"Did you want to stay at my house so you could play with the room without any remark?" He asked, amused.

"Maybe" Wilbur admitted. “But I also like to spend some time with you. You’re always a comforting presence.”

"Pff, yeah, right." Techno tried to ignore the warmth coming for his cheeks and ears. “You’re just saying that so I help you with something.”

“No, no, I mean it, techno. You’re a good friend.” And when he turned to meet the human’s face, it was a simple, honest smile. They stared at each other for a moment, unspoken words being said. Unspoken promises being made.

Techno stared at his friend’s eyes and saw: not fear. Not méfiance, not worry. His eyes were full of acceptance. Filled with joy and curiosity and wonder. It was the first time he had ever seen such an expression, and yet this look was dedicated to him. Wilbur had waited for them to be in absolute intimacy to offer him this moment.

A good friend.

Techno laughed. Quietly at first, but it grew and grew until the sounds filled the whole room. Wilbur could probably feel the vibration through his whole body but he couldn’t stop. The brunette soon joined in and happiness filled the entire room for god knows how long. Maybe it was two minutes, maybe it was an hour.

The laughters quieted down eventually, and Techno noticed the fond way Wilbur looked at him. The warmth quickly reached his whole face as he failed to keep a neutral expression. He coughed to wash away his awkwardness. “What- what with that face?”

"Nothing. It's just nice to see you less restrained." Wilbur smiled "you're always so careful when we're all together."

"Well, I have to be careful around humans." He hummed, pointing a finger at his friend "you're so small."

"Eh. You couldn't bruise us even if you tried" wilbur shrugged off. "But it's nice! We should do this more often if that means I get to hear your laugh like that more."

Techno cursed himself for the smile that wouldn't wear off.

"Yeah… maybe we should."

-Written by @melissa-s23 please send them love!!! I love the fluff so much

#techno potion au #NOT MY FIC #Melissas writing #tooth rotting fluff #mcyt gt #mcyt g/t #t!tommy #t!wilbur #t!philza #g!techno #fluff

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gamerwoo · 4 years

Text

[SVT Imprinted] Jihoon: Scarred

@oatmealupdates asked: Highkey shy when requesting but may I request the Jihoon version for your imprinted series? Pretty angsty but with a fluffy ending? Maybe some angsty smut as well cuz that seems to be your forte 👀 thank youu 🌸🌸

Characters: Jihoon x female reader

Genre/warnings: werewolf au, college au, angst, mentions of an abusive relationship, jealous jihoon, mentions of blood/bleeding, smut (angry sex, sorta semi-public bc it’s in a closet???, unprotected sex but his pullout game is strong [but still remember to have safe sex ok], jihoon trying to be a dom but reader being stubborn lmao), fluff at the end tho

Word count: 6,702

Summary: You’d had enough experience with werewolves for this lifetime, but another one waltzes right into your life and, quite literally, grabs your attention. All you want to do is stay as far away from him as possible, but there’s just something about him that has you going against everything you promised yourself you wouldn’t do.

Tags: @psshwa @uglyratlmao @brokenbutchocolate @shra-vasti

Unable to tag: @junuoyi

a/n: i feel weird tagging people who requested these originally like 1-2 years ago lmao buuuuut i hope u dont hate me for tagging u again lmao

Previous | Next | Imprinted Masterlist

At the beginning of summer vacation, Jeonghan had asked, “What kind of fucking idiot would take summer classes?”

Jihoon. Jihoon was that kind of fucking idiot.

Truth be told, Jihoon liked summer classes. Hardly anyone took them, which meant there were less people to annoy him while he had to be on campus. Not only that, but it beat being in a hot house with a shit ton of other people -- mostly werewolves who were already warmer than humans -- and hearing everyone complain and whine. He’d take the air conditioned classrooms that were half-empty over that any day.

You, on the other hand, needed a distraction. You left a bad relationship with a bad person and had to get as far away as possible. You moved a few towns away, transferred all of your college credits to this new place, and gotten some cheap apartment in a bad part of the city. It wasn’t the best scenario, but it was better than what you had before. Anything was better than what you had before.

Pulling into the parking lot, you got off your motorcycle and pulled off your black helmet, squinting against the harsh sun. As much as you wished you had worn shorts, your form of transportation had you finding a medium between shorts and jeans, settling for leggings so you didn’t scrape your skin in case you happened to fall off your bike. It never happened and you didn’t think it would, but you learned anything was possible with your last relationship.

Putting the kickstand down, you swung your keys around your finger and tucked your helmet under your arm, carrying it with you as you went toward the main building for your only class of the day. As you reached the busier part of campus, you grabbed a black mouth mask from your pocket and put it on, wanting to avoid stares from anybody you walked passed.

Trudging up the stairs, you checked your phone. A few friends had texted you but you thankfully didn’t have any notifications from your ex. You hoped the fact you changed your number helped with him never finding you again, but who knew with him? He seemed to find you no matter what. That was why you had to move so far away.

Being distracted, you almost ran straight into a open locker. The only thing that kept you from doing so was a hand coming around the front of your waist and keeping you in place, also causing you to look up.

As soon as you felt the butterflies you’d been told so much about, and your heart beating quickly like everyone said was supposed to happen, you wanted nothing more than to rip his arm away from you and run. He didn’t seem as big and scary as your ex, but the way his face was set in a resting frown reminded you of him anyway. He stared right into your eyes, and that only made you more uneasy.

“Careful,” was all he told you before dropping his arm and walking the way he had been before you decided to be an idiot.

You turned and watched him leave, his head kept down as he strolled down the hallway. Then you shook your head and walked the rest of the way to your classroom before going back to your phone. You pulled up the messages with your best friend and began frantically typing.

You: there’s another one here

Kira: another one?

Kira: you’re fucking with me, right???

You: oh it gets worse…

Jihoon frowned as he sat in the grass, staring at his shoes. He couldn’t even distract himself with his phone because his thoughts kept going to you.

It wasn’t that he was angry he imprinted. He was angry because he smelled werewolf all over you, but he knew it wasn’t you. There either was somebody already in the picture, or there had been before, and both of those options made him uneasy. If you already had a boyfriend, he clearly didn’t imprint on you since Jihoon did -- although, multiple imprints could happen but it was extremely rare. But that didn’t mean you would drop him for Jihoon. If you used to have a boyfriend that was a werewolf, there was a strong possibility he passed away, which would mean you may or may not be grieving, or may not like the idea of dating another wolf.

Either way, Jihoon assumed he was fucked.

Juri pulled up to the curb with Faye, waiting for Jihoon to get up, get his bag, and get in the backseat. The two girls could easily tell something was off with their brother, so Faye turned in her seat as Juri pulled away and drove back home.

“What’s that look for?” she wondered.

“I’m not telling you, you’ll blab to Wonwoo,” Jihoon told her as his cheeks turned pink, crossing his arms over his chest.

Faye brightened, knowing there was only one reason he would be blushing -- well, only one reason that that didn’t involve one of his sisters complimenting him out of nowhere, “You imprinted!”

“Faye, please don’t--”

Juri’s loud, excited gasp cut off Jihoon and made him groan, “Jihoonie!”

“God, please stop,” he sighed, pinching his nose between his thumb and forefinger.

The girls squealed and cheered until Faye realized that Jihoon was upset when he got in the car, “Wait…what happened?”

The shorter boy sighed and stared at the ceiling of the car, his head laid back, “Werewolf scent is all over her, but it’s not her scent.”

“Ouch…”

“On top of that, she looks like she could kick my ass, and the look she gave me promised she definitely would if I touched her ever again.”

“Kinky.”

Juri and Jihoon both looked at her quizzically.

“You’ve been around Jun and Soonyoung for too long,” Jihoon told the taller girl before looking out the window and going back to the original subject. “She definitely knew what happened and she didn’t like it.”

The car suddenly jerked as Juri took a turn into a fast food drive thru. Faye looked just as confused as Jihoon until Juri grinned, her smile being seen in the rear view mirror, “We’re getting comfort food.”

“Why?” Jihoon asked, sounding disgusting.

“Because you’re going through a rough time and--”

Jihoon groaned, laying his head back again, “Remind me to never ask you two for a ride again.”

“I’m sorry, do you want the food Soonyoung and Seungkwan are making tonight?” Juri quizzed, slamming on the breaks just before they reached the mic.

Jihoon suddenly jerked his body forward, “I’ll have a number five.”

You were left alone for a whole week, which you were happy about. Kira offered to come stay with you for the weekend and you were thankful for that, but you were dreading the next week you’d have to go back. Seeing how stressed you were, she extended her stay just in case something bad happened with this new werewolf.

The next day you had class, you rode your bike to school as usual. This time, you wore shorts despite the fact Kira told you she was worried for your safety. You just scoffed, pointing at your face before leaving without a word.

Classes went on as usual, and you were thankful you didn’t see the werewolf. But when you went back to the parking lot to go home, you found things weren’t going to go as smoothly as you thought.

“What the--” you couldn’t even finish your thoughts, racing over to your bike.

Somebody had pushed it over, and it looked like they beat it with a bat. The black paint was chipping, and it looked like someone had punctured the gas tank, causing it to leak. Frustrated tears sprung into your eyes as you lifted your bike back onto it’s kickstand and you resisted the urge to throw your helmet on the ground.

“Fuck!” you groaned, staring up at the sky like you were cursing God. “What the fuck!”

“Trouble?”

The voice wasn’t remotely familiar to you, but it still made your blood run cold. You looked at the boy from last week; the one you’d been trying to avoid. He didn’t have his resting bitch face, though. He actually looked concerned for you as he looked your bike over.

A tear slipped out when you looked at him, but it was stopped by the black mouth mask covering your nose and mouth. You quickly wiped it away, “What do you care?”

He shrugged, “I just wanted to help if I could.”

“Can you buy me a new bike?”

“No, but I can at least get you a ride home.”

You scoffed, “No thanks. I’m not dumb enough to get into a car with a stranger.”

Jihoon knew you definitely didn’t think of him as a stranger because he knew you knew what was going on between the two of you. But he didn’t mention anything about it.

The boy sighed, scratching the back of his head, “I can at least fix it enough so you can get home, but it’ll take some time.”

You eyed him warily, “…What do you know about fixing motorcycles?”

“One of my br-- friends; one of my friends…had one.”

“What do you mean ‘had’?”

He raised an eyebrow, “You don’t wanna know.”

As much as you didn’t want to be around this guy, you wanted your bike fixed because you didn’t want to be stuck here until Kira came to get you, and you certainly didn’t want to keep your bike on campus overnight. With a groan, you stepped toward the boy, whose eyes seemed to brighten a bit when you got closer to him.

“Fine, let’s just get this over with,” you muttered.

He smiled at you, and you thought it would look weird since he seemed to have a resting angry face, but the smile was cute and made your heart flutter, “I’m Jihoon, by the way.”

You nodded at him, trying to fight the feelings you felt looking at his beautiful face, “_____.”

“Do you want me to walk your bike to the automotive department?” he offered.

You frowned, not wanting anybody touching your baby, especially now that she was damaged, “I can do it.”

He watched as you put the kickstand up and wheeled the motorcycle over to him. Then you two were walking side-by-side in silence to the back of the campus where the garages were. You didn’t know if he was some sort of auto major -- he didn’t look like he’d be one -- but he claimed to know how to fix your bike, and you were desperate.

You didn’t know how to fill the awkward silence.

Jihoon didn’t know how to fill it either.

Therefore, it was completely silent as you walked to the garage. The entire time, you kept thinking how much you wanted to get away from him. You wanted nothing to do with his kind, and part of you was afraid something bad would happen. You really didn’t want a repeat of what happened before you left your ex, who you were sure somehow had a part in your bike getting fucked up.

Jihoon, on the other hand, could sense your uneasiness. He could also still sense the other werewolf all over you, and it took everything in him to not start growling. He’d never gotten jealous before, not even when the rest of his brothers started imprinting, so he felt it hard. All he could do, though, was remind himself that maybe you weren’t fucking some other guy. But then, why would his scent be so strong on you? It definitely wasn’t as strong as it could be if he marked you, so at least you were unmarked. But it was still hard to miss and hard to ignore.

Jihoon led you into the garage. There were a few students working on their various projects, but not a lot of people. you counted only five guys that were in the large part of the building. He brought you over to the last station at the very end of the room, as far away from the other people as the two of you could be.

“Just put it right there,” Jihoon instructed, pointing to the large, empty space between two metal desks full of various tools. “Do you…want me to teach you how to fix it? Just in case?”

You narrowed your eyes at him, “No.”

“I’m not trying anything with you, I’m just trying to help,” he insisted with an awkward laugh, but you could tell he was starting to get annoyed with you.

“Then help by just fixing my motorcycle like you offered,” you told him, crossing your arms over your chest, “and don’t talk to me.”

Jihoon’s expression shifted, and you knew maybe you were being too rude to push him away. But what else were you supposed to do? You wanted nothing to do with the kind of creature he was.

You heard the low growl in his chest and took a cautious step back.

Jihoon grabbed your wrist and dragged you to the back of the room, going into a broom closet and shutting the door. He flipped the light switch up so only a single, dim bulb illuminated the tiny room. Your chests were almost pressed together, and your fight or flight instincts kicked in. You tried to make yourself look bigger and more intimidating since he was blocking your only means of escape, but nothing really intimidated Jihoon so your efforts -- unbeknownst to you -- were worthless.

On top of that, he was fed up with your coldness toward him and wanted to some answers already.

“I know you know what I am and what’s going on,” Jihoon snarled quietly, and you tried not to waver, “so what the fuck is your problem? Do you have a boyfriend or something?”

“No! Even if I did, it’s not your business,” you snapped, your hands balling into fists at your sides.

“Well you sure smell a lot like another wolf.”

Fed up with his attitude, you ripped the mask off your face. Jihoon sucked in a breath, taking in the four large, jagged scars that went almost diagonally across your face. It started below your eye and went down to the corner of your lips, the highest scratch going just below your nose.

“I had a boyfriend,” you clarified, your tone full of acid, “but then I left him, and the last thing I want is to have another one like him.”

You were still angry, but Jihoon had suddenly become remorseful. How could anything like this happen to you? Why would anyone hurt you like this? Nothing about any of this made sense to him.

He reached out to touch your face, but you leaned back -- you couldn’t actually back up since you were already pressed up against a shelf covered with extra supplies. He saw how nervous you looked now and retracted his hand, trying not to let his anger toward your last mate get the best of him.

“_____, I…” his voice trailed off as he tried to think of the right words but all he came up with was rage toward the person who did this to you. He closed his eyes, knowing they were turning red and burning through his brown contacts. “I’m…sorry…about what happened to you.”

You found your eyes filling with tears for the second time that day, only you felt sadness this time. You hadn’t really had to think much about your ex up until Jihoon, and you never had to talk about how you got scarred up so badly. Now, only thoughts of that day filled your head, and you felt like screaming because of it.

Lost in your thoughts, you didn’t notice Jihoon had looked up and saw a few tears slip out. His skin was warm and soft against yours, but the contact still made you jump. The red had definitely melted the contacts, but now his eyes were a soft gold that looked at you with complete adoration. You could see his promise to give you the world when he looked at you.

You were terrified.

Without thinking, you smacked his hand away -- nothing hard to hurt him, just for him to stop touching you, “No, I’m not doing this again.”

“_____, I won’t ever hurt you like that,” he promised.

You gave him a dry laugh, “That’s exactly what he told me, but look at me now!”

“Did he imprint on you?” Jihoon wondered, though his tone was sharp and demanding.

Truth be told, he didn’t. You two just ended up dating after getting along so well for two years.

“Well…not exactly, but--”

“Then he couldn’t ever feel as strongly toward you as I do,” he stated, stepping closer to you. Now, you were chest-to-chest and you couldn’t get away. Your heart sped up, and both of you knew it. “I could never dream of laying a hand on you like that. The fact you even think to compare me to some shithead like him is laughable.”

Despite his words, his tone was harsh, like he was angry. You couldn’t even think of anything to say back to him, so you just stared at him wide-eyed.

He smirked, and it made your stomach do backflips, “He could never get the reactions out of you that I already have, and I’ve only seen you two days so far.”

Jihoon still didn’t like the fact he could smell the other wolf on you, especially now that he was closer. Your sweet scent that was just you was mixed with the smell of a foreign wolf, and the urge to show you who you really belonged to hit him like a tsunami.

“Jihoon…” was all that could come out of your mouth. You couldn’t tell if you wanted to tell him to fuck off or if you wanted him to continue whatever he planned on doing. The pull to him was still too strong for you to ignore, especially with him so close to you. But somehow, the sane part of you kicked into gear and you gently shoved against his chest, pushing his back into the door. “Talk is cheap, wolf.”

The action surprised him, but it widened his smirk, his eyes going dark, “Alright,” his hands went to your waist and he lifted you up onto the small, wooden desk that had a few cleaning supplies and car waxes on it, “then let me show you.”

Before you could say anything, Jihoon’s lips crashed into yours, and you immediately felt sparks. It was so much more than anything you felt with your ex, and that not only scared you, but made you crave so much more.

You grabbed Jihoon by the collar of his jean jacket, pulling him closer to you and kissing him back with more force. You heard the happy rumble in his chest as his hands slid from your waist to your bare thighs, his hands groping at your soft skin.

When his lips traveled down your jaw to your neck, you finally spoke, “This doesn’t mean I trust you. Actually, I really don’t fucking trust you.”

“I don’t care if you don’t like me yet,” he mumbled against your skin, his teeth grazing your flesh and making you shiver, “but you’ll come around.”

“You’re really annoying.”

“Good thing I don’t need to talk a lot for this.”

As he sucked on your skin, causing a soft moan to slip out from you, you realized just how frustrated you were with Jihoon. You actually enjoyed having him so close to you. In fact, you wanted him closer. But your head screamed at you to reject everything; punch him if you had to. And that made you angry at yourself because you were letting yourself get involved with another werewolf even though you’d sworn to stay away. If you got hurt again, it was all your fault.

But your body had apparently opted to take all of that anger and frustration toward yourself out on Jihoon.

Your hands tangled in his soft hair, gently tugging as he sucked and nibbled on a particularly tender spot. He smirked, proud he got a decent reaction from you before his lips moved back to yours, his hands going to your shoulders and pushing the leather jacket off of your body.

Jihoon worked quickly, wasting no time in getting the both of you stripped down to your underwear. He was surprised that you had the same idea in mind, but he could just sense that you were doing it out of anger. Was he complaining? Not at all.

You lifted your hips for Jihoon to take off your underwear while you let out a groan, his mouth around one of your nipples and his teeth gently grazing over it. He tossed your panties on the floor with the rest of your clothes before he suddenly had two fingers at your heat, his digits moving between your folds, rubbing your arousal around.

“You claim to hate me, but you’re pretty fucking wet for me,” he chuckled, his breath tickling your skin.

“You claim to be my mate, but you’re pretty fucking annoying,” you shot back, though you had to bite down on your lip immediately after because his thumb had pressed to your clit and was making slow circles.

“You can always tell me to stop,” he reminded you with a smirk, knowing you weren’t going to. You couldn’t resist the pull. When you just silently glared at him with your bottom lip between your teeth, he took it as a sign that he could slip both fingers inside you. “That’s what I thought.”

You couldn’t control the mewl that bubbled from your throat, your head dropping back against the wall as his fingers moved in and out of you in time with his ministrations on your clit. He kept his eyes on your face the whole time, relishing in the reactions you gave him. You were so beautiful in his eyes, especially like this.

You startled him when you reached out with both hands, grabbing his shoulders and pulling him in to kiss you. His eyes closed as he tried to focus on keeping a steady pace while you pushed your tongue passed his lips, needing to have more of him, you just didn’t want to ask for it.

He could tell how needy you were, though, and removed his fingers. Before you could even pull away to protest, he’d pushed his boxers down just enough for his hardened member to spring free before inserting it inside you slowly. Once he was all the way in, your fingers pressed into his skin, and you whined against his lips. He chuckled and began thrusting slowly.

“You’re going too slow,” you complained, pulling away from your little makeout session.

“What’s wrong with slow?” he asked.

“He never--”

Jihoon’s red eyes narrowed, a growl coming from his throat, “Don’t ever compare me with him. You belong to me now. In fact, you never belonged to him.”

In his growing rage, his hips picked up the pace, snapping into yours roughly. The table was hitting the wall with each thrust, and you gasped at the sudden change but it was clear it was out of pleasure and not pain.

“I’m not yours, either,” you told him, looking at him through hooded eyes.

He grabbed the back of your neck, bringing your faces closer until they were just hairs away, “You won’t be saying that when I’m done with you.”

His hips thrust forward, and he hit the spot that had sparks exploding behind your eyes. He smirked, hearing the loud whimper from the back of your throat and continued to relentlessly hit that one spot. Just the mere sound coming from you almost had him cumming in you then and there.

“You like that, don’t you?” his voice was low and husky, his breath fanning your face.

You weakly nodded, unable to deny it. Pleasure was written all over your face, and the noises you were making were clear indications of it, too. He could tell you were getting close from the way your breathing got more shallow and how you were squirming on the desk, but he wasn’t going to let you get there until he got what he wanted.

“You want to cum, don’t you?” he asked.

The knot in your stomach was tightening with each snap of his hips while your walls clenched around him, and all you could do was nod while your mouth formed a thin line.

“I’ll let you if you tell me who you belong to,” he growled.

You narrowed your eyes at him; challenging him, “Nobody.”

He easily caught your bluff, though, and his movements stopped. From the look you gave him, he was sure you considered punching him into next year, “If you were going to deny me, you would’ve done it already. Face it, _____, you’re in too deep already. You might not trust me yet, but you can’t deny me.”

“Jihoon--”

“I’m not moving until you admit it,” he stated.

You tried to move your hips into his instead, but he easily held them down with both hands, keeping you frozen on the desk. You frowned, knowing he wouldn’t back down. He was stubborn. Just like you.

“I’ll think about it,” you finally told him. “That’s as good as you’ll get right now.”

He sighed, knowing you were right. He wouldn’t get much more out of you, so he started moving his hips again, gradually bringing the pace back to the quick, rough thrusts that had your walls clenching and your legs wrapping securely around his waist.

“I can at least get you to say my name,” he decided, growling softly as your nails dug into his shoulders, earning a soft moan from his lips.

It was the first time you heard him make any sort of noise other than growls and mumbles -- all were out of pleasure, you could tell -- but this noise was beautiful. It was like music to your ears and part of you wanted to hear him make that noise again. But he was too focused on you to focus on making himself feel good.

“Come on,” he urged, his thumb going to your clit again, only this time, moving in quick, small circles, “say my name.”

“I don’t--”

“Don’t make me stop again.”

Your orgasm was building quickly, and you knew you wouldn’t be able to hold it in. Your walls were clenching tightly around Jihoon’s cock, and the feeling was enough to have him moaning out again.

And that noise was what really pushed you over the edge.

“Jihoon,” you gasped, your eyes closing tightly as your toes curled and your body went rigid, “holy shit!”

He drunk in how beautiful you looked while you came, riding out your high and bringing him to his own after you finally said his name and clung to him. His moan was high and melodic in your ear as he pulled out and released onto your stomach, your name falling from his lips.

The feeling to completely get rid of the scent of your former lover took over, and Jihoon’s fangs elongated as they swept over the skin of your shoulder. You were too euphoric after just coming down to realize it, but Jihoon quickly did and bit down on his lip instead. He tasted blood but he didn’t care; as long as he didn’t upset you, he didn’t mind it.

Once you had relaxed, he stepped away and picked up a folded rag from one of the shelves, cleaning you up with it, “I won.”

“You’re still fucking annoying,” you told him, clearing your throat.

“You still have to wait with my annoying ass to fix your bike, though,” he reminded you with a smug smile, tossing the rag into the mop bucket before he started handing you your clothes. “Do you feel okay?”

You just shrugged and started tugging articles of clothing onto your body.

The two of you dressed in silence before Jihoon opened the door for you. You exited and went back over to your station, noticing everyone else had left for the day.

‘Wonderful,’ you thought to yourself.

As you sat on one of the tables and watched Jihoon work, the reality of what you had done sank in. You let yourself get caught up in the pull of Jihoon, and you made yourself vulnerable to another werewolf. You were even more angry at yourself than you were in the closet.

When Jihoon finally finished your bike, all you wanted to do was toss your helmet on and ride your motorcycle as far away from Jihoon as possible. However, he grabbed your wrist as you hopped off the table, “I know this is shitty of me to ask, but do you mind giving me a ride home?”

You groaned, although you knew it was the least you could do since he fixed your most prized possession. You gestured for him to follow you as you wheeled your bike out of the garage and back to the parking lot.

“Here,” you told him, handing him the helmet, “I’ve ridden this enough to--”

He laughed and took the black helmet, putting it over your head and pushing the tinted mask up so he could see your face, “You’re the human here; you need it more.”

His smile made your heart melt, so when your eyes rolled, it was at yourself. You got on the bike and started it up as Jihoon got on behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist, “Hang on.”

Then you sped off with Jihoon directing you.

Jihoon didn’t see you for a few days, but that’s how it was the last week too. He figured your schedules clashed, and he wasn’t going to go out of his way to track you down when you clearly needed some time and space. He knew you’d come back to him when you were ready.

Well, you’d be brought to him, apparently.

It was pretty shitty out that evening, and the sky was dark and gloomy. Rain poured down outside, and Jihoon watched from where he sat on the couch with most of the pack. Some were playing a board game on the floor while they quietly giggled together and accused the others of somehow cheating, others were watching the TV, and he was staring at the rain outside.

He didn’t feel right. He didn’t know why, and he couldn’t pinpoint the problem, but he just didn’t feel good about something. He couldn’t tell if maybe it was just because the weather was making Mingyu’s injury act up, or if it was because Juri was still recovering from the werewolf incident, or if it was his lack of contact with you. He just knew that whatever it was, he didn’t like it.

There was a knock at the door, but he ignored it, knowing someone else would get it.

“Can I help-- Oh my god!” Aya’s voice started out polite and ended up worried.

Jihoon was now staring toward the door, though he couldn’t see who was outside.

But he sensed it, and was already on his feet before Aya pulled you and your friend inside. Both of you were cold and sopping wet, but unlike the honey-haired girl all but dragging you into the house, your consciousness was slipping away.

“She…she told me to come here,” Kira sobbed, holding up most of your weight. “I didn’t know what to do, she just--”

“It’s okay,” Jihoon told her, easily scooping you up in his arms.

Your hooded eyes just barely made him out, as you were dizzy from hitting your head on the concrete. You smirked. “Hey, asshole.”

“What happened?” Jihoon asked softly, unable to return the sarcasm and sass.

Kira was the one to answer for you. She already knew who Jihoon was, thanks to your many complaints about him, and while she wasn’t fond of him just because he was a werewolf like your ex, she knew him and his pack were your only hope of staying safe.

“I showed up at the apartment, and she was half awake and bleeding and--”

“Bleeding?” Aya asked.

Kira moved your jacket aside, revealing a large, red spot on your t-shirt, “I know who did it but I don’t know why.”

“We can ask questions later,” Aya decided, looking behind Jihoon to wave over another member of the pack. “Your room. Jihoon, come on. Bomi, could you get her some dry clothes, please?”

Jihoon turned away from your friend and followed the two wolves up the stairs to Joshua’s room, trying to keep you awake. If you hit your head, it was bad for you to fall asleep. That was just common sense.

“So, you hate me but I’m your emergency contact?” he joked lightly, forcing a half-smile.

“He came back,” you told him, your head resting against his chest while you listened to his heartbeat. “He could smell you all over me; he said I’d still belong to him as long as he had this mark on me.”

Jihoon rolled his eyes, setting you down on the table, “That’s not how that works. …He hasn’t actually marked you, has he?”

“Now’s not the time for your stupid werewolf jealousy thing, bud,” Aya cut in, going over to a cabinet in Josh’s room and taking supplies out.

“You’re not his anymore, _____,” Jihoon promised, brushing some hair that was stuck to your face out of the way. “I promise we’ll keep you safe from him. All of us will.”

“Alright…_____, is it?” Joshua asked, standing over you. “This is going to sting.”

Jihoon let you squeeze his hand as hard as you needed to while Joshua and Aya worked to fix you. It definitely hurt like they said it would, but you were just relieved when it was over.

You didn’t know why you told Kira to bring you to the house you’d only been to once, but it was the only place you could think to go. You knew Jihoon would know what to do, and for some reason, the thought of being with Jihoon made you feel safe. Not only did you want to be safe, but you wanted Kira safe, too. You wouldn’t put it past your ex or his friends to go after her because she was helping you.

After you were stitched up, Jihoon brought you to his room to rest. The two wolves confirmed you had a minor concussion but that you should be okay. They recommended that you rest and take it easy for the next few days, and Jihoon promised them he’d be there to take care of you. When you didn’t object, he took it as an okay for him to be around you.

You kept drifting in and out of consciousness. You’d doze off for half an hour, wake up a little bit, and repeat the process. You didn’t fully wake up until about almost midnight. You’d snuggled yourself into Jihoon’s arms, and he’d happily let you lay there so he could keep you warm.

“Where’s Kira?” you asked groggily, looking around the room that was still lit by the warm glow of a bedside lamp.

“Bomi and Juri gave her clothes and fed her,” Jihoon assured you. “I think the girls are having a sleepover downstairs with a few of the boys.”

You noticed your clothes weren’t yours, and you immediately looked up at Jihoon, worried he had changed you, “Whose--”

“Mine,” he chuckled, “but Aya changed you.”

You relaxed, resting your head against his chest again. He was actually shocked you hadn’t pushed yourself away from him, but who was he to question it and ruin the moment? Instead, he brushed his fingertips up and down your back as he listened to the soft beating of your heart, and the giggling and laughter from the members of his pack downstairs.

“You were right,” you spoke up quietly.

“Hmm?” Jihoon lifted his head a bit to look down at you.

You sighed and rolled your eyes even though he couldn’t see, “You’re nothing like him.”

“What made you decide that?” he wondered.

“About a year ago, I got into a bad motorcycle accident. My head was bleeding really bad, and I actually thought I was going to die. I never thought to go to Jinsoo for help. I went to Kira before I thought to go to him, and she took me to a hospital. You were the first person I thought of tonight, though.”

Jihoon smiled softly, an elated grumble in his chest, “I promised but you didn’t want to believe me.”

“I guess you did win…” you admitted begrudgingly.

“Always do.”

“I’ll get back at you one day, don’t you worry.”

He chuckled, holding you closer, “As long as you’re sticking around to get back at me.”

You tilted your head to look up at him, meeting his warm eyes, “Don’t get sappy on me.”

He put a hand up to your bad cheek, stroking over your scars with his thumb. Something about the action felt much deeper than him simply observing them, but you couldn’t quite explain what it was.

“Don’t worry,” he smirked, “I’ll only be like this when those idiots aren’t around. Like you, I have a hardass reputation to uphold.”

You scoffed, holding your hand over his, “Unlike you, I don’t have to try so hard, softy.”

Jihoon’s expression suddenly turned serious as his hand lifted for his fingertip to trace the most prominent scar on your face, “You never told me how this happened…”

“Come on, I don’t want to ruin your softy moment.”

“Please?”

You sighed and shifted a bit to get more comfortable, being careful to not move too much because of the gash in your side, “Jinsoo got angry with me, which was something that had been happening a lot. His claws were out when he slapped me across the face, and…these happened. I left him that night.”

Jihoon’s features were creased by a frown, and you poked his cheek to get him to brighten up. He didn’t, “Did he hit you before this?”

You shook your head, “No, that’s why that was the last straw for me.”

“What about this?” Jihoon’s other hand gingerly brushed against the bandages on your side.

“Jihoooon,” you whined, not wanting to talk about it and get depressing and serious, so you hid your face in his chest. You definitely heard the purr that came from his chest and looked up at him, giggling. “Was that you?”

He frowned, his face turning red, “No!”

“Yes it was!” you grinned, poking his chest. “That was the cutest thing I’ve ever heard!”

“_____, go to sleep.” he huffed, trying not to smile at your giddiness.

“Do it again!”

“No.”

You leaned up and pressed a chaste kiss to his jaw, earning the same reaction and making you giggle louder, “Oh my god, you’re so cute! You’re not scary, you’re adorable!”

He frowned, “If you’re going to tease me, at least give me a real kiss.”

“Only if you purr again,” you told him, though you were already shifting to reach his lips.

“It’s not something I can control,” he sighed, but you could see the smile playing on the edge of his lips.

His soft lips pressed against yours for a moment, a grumble vibrating from his chest against yours. You smiled into the kiss, trying not to giggle at him again, and he pulled you completely on top of him, pulling away from the kiss to leave a lingering one of your forehead.

“Alright, go to sleep before you wake up the whole house screaming about how cute I am,” he instructed playfully, smoothing your hair back. “I love you.”

You laid your cheek against his chest, closing your eyes, “Thanks.”

He chuckled at your lighthearted retort, “You’re welcome.”

550 notes · View notes

tsukifanbase · 4 years

Text

Obey Me! Brothers Visit MC During Autumn: Lucifer, Mammon, and Belphie

Authors Note: i'm thinking I might make this a series, like at the beginning of every season just something similar to this 👀 sorry I haven't written much lately! school's taking up pretty much all my time nowadays-- anywhosie, enjoy! [ also s p o i l e r s] (oh btw this is gonna take place after mc leaves devildom for the summer, before they come back to devildom) lmk if yall want pt 2 with the other characters

Warnings: fluff, bruh absolute just fluff everywhere like so much, mb a lil bit of angst but that's what all my writing is like so hehe

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Lucifer

- i feel like lucifer would’ve visited you in the human realm before

- like probably sometime over the summer, but he hadn’t seen you in a while and he was starting to miss his favorite human :(

- not like he’d ever admit to that

- i don’t think luci would really be the type to wait until you summoned him for something, if he wants to make sure you’re okay, he’s gonna come see you lmao

- anyways

- lucifer had been staring out the window for quite a while- he had been doing paperwork, but somehow even when you were in a different realm, you managed to disrupt him

- he chuckled to himself at that thought, then sighed

- you had been rather difficult to focus around, always getting yourself into trouble

- luci couldn’t catch a break when you went to RAD

- he missed you

- a lot

- lucifer glanced back at his desk, where he had been working just moments before

- his eyes landed on an unsigned piece of paper that had your name on it

- you could come back home if he got you to sign it

- in truth, lucifer hadn’t really thought about finding a way to get you back to devildom. he certainly missed you, but the idea that he could actually arrange your return just hadn’t hit him yet

- until three days prior, when the sheet with your name on it appeared on his desk

- lucifer had a sneaking suspicion who put it there

- it was diavolo let’s be real

- the real mystery was why lucifer hadn’t gone to bring you the permission slip already

- he had waited- it had been three days, and he couldn’t make up his mind if he wanted to go give it to you

- lucifer didn’t want to put you in the position of having to choose between your life in the human realm or your life in devildom

- but he missed you

- and so, luci checked his watch to make sure it wasn’t three in the morning, then grabbed the permission slip before making his way outside

- it would be okay to be selfish, just this once, right?

- lucifer arrived at your home at four in the afternoon, you weren’t there

- so he found a way to open the door, bruv you hid the key under the doormat he didn’t really have a hard time lmao

- you walked into your bedroom at nearly quarter past four and immediately flopped onto your bed

- you didn’t even notice that lucifer was watching from your desk in the corner of your room

- he walked over to you and stared at you

- bro he literally didn’t say anything, he just waited ahaha thats not creepy

- lucifer crossed his arms over his chest and you finally looked up

- your eyes locked and you quietly asked, “luci?”

- lucifer narrowed his gaze at you and answered you with an, “mhm?”

- and then you freaked out, because honestly you half thought you were hallucinating or something, you jumped up to give lucifer a hug

- don’t get me wrong here, i have the intense feeling that lucifer doesn’t like hugs, but i also have the intense feeling that you and the occasional brother are the exception to that rule

- so

- when you clasped your arms around him, luci barely hesitated in returning the gesture

- he pulled you close, like he never wanted to let go again

- you eventually pulled back to ask why he had come to visit you

- it wasn’t like he didn’t visit often, just usually he had a reason to, even if it was just because he wanted to check up on you

- oh and all that nerve luci had about being selfish for once in his lifetime, yeah that was gone XD

- so your question kinda caught him off guard, like it just seemed like he forgot because for a hot sec he was just staring at you like, ‘uh huh im sorry what was that?’

- when he didn’t answer, you took the lead

- “do you wanna go to the fall festival with me?”, you asked, a bright grin spreading across your face

- and obviously luci knew what a fall festival was, he just didn’t really see your request coming

- but i mean he nodded so lmao

- pretty soon y’all were walking down the street, stopping at random carts at the festival to look at autumn themed stuff

- luci didn’t have human money, so every time he showed a vague interest in something and you offered to buy it for him, he would start squabbling about not wanting you to spend your money and blah blah

- you’d wait until he started walking away from the cart and then buy it for him anyways ;)

- somehow along the way, lucifer suggested you guys hold hands to stay together in the crowd uh huh yeah right lmao

- it was nearing the end of the festival when you remembered there was a park down the street, so you turned to luci and asked, “mind if i show you something?”

- he agreed and you guys started walking down the street, and lemme say the park kinda blew lucifer’s mind

- he was aware that leaves on trees changed colors depending on the season, but he wasn’t expecting how beautiful they were

- yellows, and oranges, some red, here and there

- and then he turned to look at you

- right at home, where you belonged

- wearing a shirt luci was pretty sure you stole from him, sipping warm apple cider

- the most beautiful thing in that entire park was you, he was sure of it

- lucifer felt the permission slip crinkle in his pocket, and he made up his mind about showing it to you

- he wasn’t going to

- “lucifer, are you okay?”, you sounded concerned, and you brought the hand that had been holding his own to brush a piece of his hair out of his face

- lucifer smiled at you, really smiled, and then replied, “yes, my dear, i’m quite all right”

Mammon

- ok so u guys remember when about two minutes ago i said lucifer wasn’t the type to wait until you summoned him

-well let’s give mammon some credit where it’s due

- he triedd to wait until you summoned him

- bb is many things but he is not patient XD

- ok lets get into it

- mammon was lying on his bed, staring at the ceiling

- he wasn’t really thinking about anything?? but he had been sitting there for like an hour lmao

- asmo and satan were standing in the doorway like, ‘is he okay? does he need a doctor?’

- since usually when people think of mammon they do not think, ah yes his normal activity of... doing nothing?

- then out of nowhere, mammon sat up and his brothers quickly fled the scene to avoid being caught lmao

- mammon got a big grin on his face, and he strut out of his room to go bother you

- he had gotten into the habit of going to find you whenever he was bored or lonely

- he arrived at your bedroom, and just before his fist hit the door to knock, he realized that you weren’t in there

- that you weren’t even in devildom

- mammon barely hesitated before spinning on his heel and heading to lucifer’s office

- he wasn’t even really conscious of what he was doing, but mammon knew why he was about to go ask to visit you

- he needed you, more than he ever truly realized

- when you arrived at your apartment that afternoon, you were greeted by your landlord in the lobby, he informed you that there was a strange man sitting outside of your apartment, who was insisting that he needed to see you

- you practically dropped the grocery bag you were holding, nodded to your landlord, thanked him, and then began sprinting towards your apartment

- mammon was sitting in front of your door, staring down at his hands, he didn’t even notice that you had walked up to him

- you immediately noticed something was off with him, so you dropped to your knees to bring him into a hug, “what’s wrong?”

- he smiled to himself as he wrapped his arms around you, “nuthin'”, now that you were with him

- after you both relished in being reunited, you hopped up and grinned at him, “you’ve got perfect timing!”

- you went to unlock your apartment door, and pointed at the grocery bag that you had abandoned on the floor- it was full of apples

- mammon stood and picked up the bag for you, “apples?”, he questioned, he wasn’t really familiar with human cuisine but it seemed a little bit strange to just buy a massive bag of apples

- “i’m gonna make desert!”, you opened the door and walked into your apartment, then closed the door behind mammon, “and you’re gonna help me”

- the smile you gave him made his heart melt

- he had missed you so much

- “pfffff, why would i do that?”, mammon’s cheeks were flushed red, he crossed his arms and looked away from you, trying to hide his embarrassment

- you were grabbing something out of your cabinet, it looked like sugar, “because”, you smiled at him

- “what kind of reason is that-”

- he helped you make the apple pie lmao

- mammon lifted a bite of the pie up to his face to look at it, “what even is this?”

- he wasn’t asking in a mean way, he just genuinely didn’t know what he was looking at lol

- “just try it! i promise you’ll like it!”, you told him from the kitchen, you were putting away ingredients

- mammon huffed, and you gave him an offer he couldn’t refuse

- “if you try it, i’ll give you a present”, he immediately tried the dessert

- greedy boi

- mammon thought it was delicious, but he wasn’t about to tell you that, “i guess it’s alright, now you’re gonna gimme something?”

- you nodded and walked over to where he was sitting, “hey, what’re ya doin’?”, you gave him a peck on the cheek

- mammon fell silent for a second, and then his face burst into flames as he watched you grin and return to putting things away

- and honestly that was the best gift you could’ve given him

Belphie

- ok so im sorry but belphie is definitely the type of demon to wait for you to summon him

- i don’t make the rules XD

- he is tired boy, and while he may love and care about you a lot, going to the human realm takes a lotttttttt of energy lmao

- like he has to walk allllllll the way to lucifer’s office and ugh just like no too much work

- so anyways lmao

- you hadn’t really planned on summoning bel at all

- you were lying in bed, a lazy morning like so many you had shared together

- this one was more beautiful than any you had ever experienced before

- the leaves were changing colors just outside your window, the sunlight of a late morning breaching your bedroom through the leaves, and hitting your face

- the weather had gotten colder recently, so you had added more blankets to your bed to accommodate

- or maybe you were trying to make up for the loss of your cuddle buddy

- either way, you were wrapped securely in blankets

- and everything seemed perfect

- except you were missing the best part of sleeping in, of staying in bed until the early afternoon

- you were missing your best friend

- so you decided to change that

- you barely had to think about how to summon him, one second, he wasn’t there, and the next, belphie was lying on top of you

- he was sleeping, as usual

- bel clutched you tight in his sleep, mumbling something about missing you under his breath

- he was dreaming about you

- because as little energy he had to go visit, that didn’t mean that belphie didn’t miss you

- in fact, nearly every day since you left devildom, bel had complained to beel about how cold his bed was

- bel had trouble sleeping for a while after you left, unbelievable, but true

- he had grown so accustomed to falling asleep every night to the sound of your breath, your scent, your warmth

- belphie opened his eyes mid afternoon, he realized why he had been sleeping so soundly when he glanced down to see who he was hugging

- your eyes were closed and he assumed you were asleep

- bel sighed blissfully and hugged you tighter, pressing a kiss to your head

- “i missed you”, he mumbled into your hair

- “i missed you too, bel”

329 notes · View notes

saeyoungchoismaid · 4 years

Text

His Angel

Pairing: Mammon x gn!reader Genre: zombie apocalypse au, fluff, angst Warnings: oH bOi. Mention of zombie blood?, shooting the undead, and hm I feel like I’m forgetting something...oh yeah! ✨Character death✨ Summary: Mammon's birthday started out bad, then became one of the best birthdays he’s ever had, before going to the worst one ever Word Count: 4.3k (aka the longest fic I’ve ever done on this account...I think) A/N: HAPPY BIRTHDAY MAMMON!! Big huge giant thanks to @tooruluv for helping me come up with this plot!! A/N at the end. Lmao y’all are going to ✨hate me✨

You look down from your post on the wall to a certain white-haired male that you’ve been staring on and off at the entire time you’ve been on duty. You can’t help it though. He’s been acting strange all day and something just isn’t settling right with you.

“You might as well go check on him if you’re going to continue to be useless.” You look away from the quiet man to your partner for this shift, a pout coming to your lips.

“Check on who? I’m not useless,” you defend quickly. Maybe a little too quickly. He snorts a bit, keeping his gaze on the trees surrounding your camp.

“Yeah, right,” Lucifer responds sarcastically. “Just go before I get annoyed,” he says and lightly shoves at your shoulder. You scoff and go to argue when you realize there’s no point. He is right, after all.

Not that you would tell him that.

“I’m going to go get some grub. Want any?” you reply as you start to crawl down the ladder towards the ground. You see him shake his head, not even sparing you a glance. You always wondered what he was like before all of this happened.

You skip the last two steps and jump onto the ground, your hand resting against the gun in your holster out of habit as you walk towards the fire. “Mind if I sit here?” you ask Mammon, already taking your seat beside him before he can answer. He spares you a glance before looking back to the fire that is starting to slowly die.

“Go for it, angel.” Ever since that day at the barn when you first met, he always calls you that.

“You should probably add more wood to that,” you advise, looking away from the crackling fire to his face. The fire made his bronze skin glow with golden hues. Bronze? Is that the right color to describe his perfect skin? How does he even keep it like that? He barely has any dirt or marks on his flawless face.

“It can go out. I don’t care,” he replies gruffly. That pulls you from your thoughts to focus back on him, and not just his handsome face.

“Would you like to share what’s got you in such a foul mood? You’ve been really quiet all day,” you say softly. When he doesn’t immediately reply, you decide to add on, “I missed your lame jokes and cheesy pick-up lines. Where’s my Mammon at?” You think for a moment you see a blush but then you realize it’s probably just from him sitting so close to the fire.

“It’s my birthday today,” he breathes out, sullen eyes still staring the fire down. Your own eyes widen at that.

“What? Really? Why didn’t you tell anyone?” you ask exasperatedly. You’re surprised that he didn’t go blabbing on about it the past week. He doesn’t seem like the type who wouldn’t want to celebrate.

“It didn’t seem important. I mean, what with the trying to survive thing and all,” he grumbles out, picking up a stick to poke at the fire. You frown at this, slowly scooching closer to him on the log.

“Of course it’s important. Things like birthdays should always be celebrated, especially now. They give people hope,” you reply softly, bringing your hand to soothingly rub at his back. He tenses at first before slowly relaxing against your touch.

“I didn’t think of it like that,” he admits as he finally turns to face you. You smile brightly at him and watch as a small smile comes to his face. “Thanks. I feel better now. I’ve survived almost a whole year of this madness. I should be celebrating,” he agrees with a nod of his head.

You hum and nod your head right back at him, feeling your own smile grow. “Exactly!” You remove your hand from his back and then look to the fire, a random flashback coming to mind. “Do you remember how we met?” you ask in a quiet voice. You hear him hum and go back to poking at the fire.

“How could I forget?” he half-jokes, a hushed laugh escaping him.

Mammon is barely getting air into his lungs with how fast and long he’s been running. Where did the herd even come from? Okay, so maybe, just maybe, he dozed off for a bit but that’s not a crime! He was exhausted!

It was clearly a mistake though.

He almost runs into a tree when he hears a scream nearby. He looks to his side and finds that someone has been caught by a faster part of the herd. He debates on what to do, knowing he should just run. His group will be worried about him.

Just go. Don’t look back.

And that’s when you decide to make eye contact with him and he knows then that he has to help you. He’d be consumed with guilt if he just ran like a coward and left you to fend for yourself.

He hashes and slashes through zombies to reach you, cutting one zombie’s arm clean off when it reaches out for you. As soon as he has the ones closest to you down, he grabs your arm and takes off once again. He can tell you’re barely keeping up but he can’t slow down, not with how close the herd is.

All too soon though, you two are losing stamina and are getting cramps. And almost as if God is real, which Mammon knows by now he’s not, a building appears in the distance. “Just a little further!” he wheezes out, practically dragging you to it. Upon getting closer, he discovers that it’s a barn.

That’ll work.

He lets go of your hand and grabs the barn door, quickly sliding it open. “In, in!” he swiftly ushers, sliding the door behind the two of you. You two climb the ladder to the top of the barn after checking out the bottom, confirming that there was no one, dead or alive. The second story of the barn is the same way.

Once you both find this out, you collapse onto a pile of hay on the second story. You make sure to remain quiet when you hear the grunts and groans of zombies shuffling by the barn. “Wow, we make a great team,” the stranger says softly with a small smile, bringing Mammon’s eyes to you. He stares a little longer than he should but he’s just now noticing how attractive you are.

Maybe God is real?

“What’s your name?” he whispers. Your eyes move to his, your brow raising a bit.

“You first,” you reply just as quietly. Ah, so you’re the suspicious type.

“The name’s Mammon but you can call me your knight in shining armor,” he jokes softly, sending you a wink. He smiles when he sees you snort in response and your body relaxes a bit. Good, you’re not as on edge anymore. Man, he is good.

“Wow, I didn’t think a sense of humor could live through this,” you reply just as playfully. He chuckles in response and brings his gaze out the second-story window of the barn.

“Oh, no, no. My humor is my only good trait. Well, that and my sarcasm. And my jokes. And my puns. And my pick-up lines. Oh, and can’t forget my good looks. Also-” he stops when he hears you laugh quietly beside him, his eyes moving back to you.

And he’s never been happier that he’s still alive than at this moment.

The setting sun has rays of yellow and red shining into the barn, making your skin glow. You have pieces of hay sticking out of your hair and poking through the holes in your clothes. You have dirt and, what he’s assuming is, zombie blood all over you.

He’s never seen anyone more beautiful though.

“I see you’re very humble too,” you tease, bringing him back to reality. What did he say? He can’t remember.

“Oh, but of course,” he replies, playing along and just adding to the joke since he literally can’t remember what he said. You hum and go up on your elbow, facing him as you stick out a hand to him.

“(Y/n),” you say softly, your eyes suddenly leaving his to stare off somewhere else. He beams brighter than the setting sun as he gently clasps your hand in his and shakes it.

“Sorry, I think you’re mispronouncing your name,” he replies, feigning concern.

“What-”

“It’s pronounced ‘angel’,” he explains, smirking as he sends you another wink. You snort and start laughing as you lightly hit his chest.

“God, could you be any worse?” you joke, laying back on your back once more. You two laugh a little longer and it almost feels like a dream to Mammon. He hasn’t genuinely laughed in months.

You two talk until early morning, falling asleep mid-conversation. When you both awake in the morning, you’re pressed into Mammon’s chest, his arm draped over your hip, and your legs tangled together. You two get flustered and move away from each other but he decides then to invite you to join his group, to which you agreed.

Maybe you really are an angel. You might even be his guardian angel.

“It seems like a lifetime ago,” he whispers, fondly remembering your first encounter. You hum and place your head onto his shoulder.

“Yeah, yeah it does,” you whisper back. You two fall into a comfortable silence after that, his head eventually falling on top of yours. You two remain like that for a while, long enough for the fire to die, before you slowly pull back.

“I’ll be right back,” you whisper, noticing that some people were heading to bed. He looks up at you and you could swear at that moment he looked nothing more than a needy kid who just wanted to stay by your side.

“Okay,” he mumbles, trying not to pout but failing miserably. You flash him a smile before quickly walking away from him and the fire pit. Within minutes, you’re back with a shining smile and something in your hands.

“Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you, happy birthday dear Mammon, happy birthday to you,” you sing softly as you retake your seat beside him. His eyes move from yours to the candle in your hands. He then starts cracking up when he sees that the candle is stuck inside a can of ravioli.

His heart grows a size as he watches you sing to him, his chest feeling warm and fuzzy. “Make a wish,” you whisper when you’re done singing. He stares into your eyes for a moment, incredibly happy that he decided to relight the fire while you were gone. You almost look the way you did in the hay with the setting sun on you.

But now, you have a glowing candle in a can of ravioli for him with fireflies glowing behind you. The ‘L’ word suddenly pops into his mind but he makes sure to keep his mouth sealed shut.

He thinks about what he wants to wish for, wanting it to be meaningful instead of something stupid he would normally wish for on his previous birthdays.

“I wish-”

“No! You can’t say it out loud or it won’t come true!” you quickly interrupt, being a tad bit louder than you needed to be. Your voice draws the attention of the group, their annoyed, agitated, or curious looks diminishing when they see the scene in front of them. He laughs at your words, quickly covering his mouth.

You’re just so cute. You’ll kill him before any zombies do.

“Okay, angel, okay,” he relents, bringing his gaze back to the candle. You watch him make his wish, assuming he wishes for there to be a cure or to live for another year to see his next birthday.

He doesn’t though.

He wishes for you to live and prosper, to stay alive and see the end of the apocalypse or at least die of old age. He wishes for you to return his feelings so he can finally kiss you and hold you in his arms. He wishes he would’ve met you under different circumstances. Like you bumping into him in a coffee shop and making him spill coffee all over himself, or at school where he works up the nerve to ask you to prom.

Anything but the nightmare you two live.

You make this nightmare bearable though.

He doesn’t know what he’d do if you weren’t by his side and looking out for him.

He smiles at his wish and then blows at the candle, opening his eyes again when you softly cheer. He watches you take the candle out but before you can hand him the can, the sound of a revving car brings his attention away from you.

He turns his head to Lucifer on the wall, watching his body grow tense as he raises his gun. He starts firing at whatever, or whoever, it is. The rest of the camp instantly grabs and loads their guns, ready to fight. You two just stand from the log when a car forces its way through the wall, leaving a gaping hole behind. It didn’t take you long to see who is inside of the car. Valerius and his gang. They like to call themselves The Red Beetles. Why? None of you have the slightest idea. It’d pretty dumb in your opinion and you’ve made your point of view very obvious to them.

“Well, well, well. Look what the cat dragged in,” your enemy announces, referring to himself. You roll your eyes, your gun still very much pointed at him. Diavolo, as your leader, doesn’t allow you to kill another human being—one that’s alive, that is—unless they attack first. Valerius may have just broken the wall but he has not made a serious threat to your lives yet.

When you all remain silent and just continue to stare at him, Valerius sighs and rolls his eyes. “Well, you’re no fun. Have it your way.” He didn’t even try stalling or making any more small talk; he just slams on his horn as he reverses out of the hole in the wall he created.

This is when it dawns on all of you.

“He’s bringing Rotters here!”

“We have to leave before Biters get in!”

Everyone started shouting while grabbing their go bags, running towards the gates you normally keep locked up tight.

It didn’t matter though.

The zombies already have you surrounded and were filtering in through the hole. “Get to the ladder and get on top of the wall!” Diavolo orders. You all clamber to the two ladders you have, one of them being dangerously close to the hole. There’s thirteen of you, so you all knew it’d be faster if some of you went to the ladder closer to the zombies.

You quickly grab Luke’s hand, starting to drag him towards the horde. “(Y/n)! What are you doing? You’re going to get us killed! I don’t want to die!” Luke shouts at you. He knows better than to struggle to get away, knowing it would waste time and that you have a plan. You didn’t have to look at him to know he’s crying.

He sees you as his parent after all, other than Simeon, of course. He trusts you with his life.

You shoot at the zombies closest to the ladder, getting them all in the middle of the foreheads. “Climb!” you shout as you shove him towards the ladder. You didn’t mean to be so rough but you don’t have time to be gentle or worry about it. The others who decided to go to this ladder let him go before them, knowing it’d be wrong and selfish to climb the ladder before a kid who barely knows how to shoot.

The bunch of you at the base keep shooting at the zombies, each of you slowly moving away to climb the ladder. You being you, you let the others go before you. You’ve never been the one to be selfish. How could you be when these people brought you into their group without even knowing you? They’re your family and if need be, you’ll die protecting them.

“(Y/n)! Come on!” you hear a familiar voice scream, instantly recognizing it as Mammon’s voice. It came from above you, meaning he’s already on top of the wall. You glance over at Diavolo who is still on the ground with you.

“Go! They need their leader!” you shout at him, starting to back up towards the ladder. He brings his panicked eyes to you and gives you a quick nod before running to the ladder. You cover him from the ground, seeing zombies fall that you didn’t shoot. Good, the guys on the wall are helping out.

It seemed to be doing nothing though. There are just so many of them and you all only have so many bullets.

“(Y/n)! He’s halfway up! C’mon already!” Mammon screams. By the volume of his voice, you can tell he’s scared, terrified even. You curse when you run out of bullets, shoving your gun back into your holster. You then run back to the ladder, climbing it faster than you ever have before.

Fire suddenly comes from your ankles, making you cry out in pain. You look down to see zombies have swarmed around the ladder, their hands reaching up to scratch at your legs. You kick their hands away, bringing your hands up to the next step before hauling yourself up and away from them.

You pant as you climb, adrenaline making your limb shake. You feel the ladder shake, looking down again to see that they’re all bumping against it, ramming their bodies into it and getting their limbs stuck between the steps with how many of them there are. You quicken your pace, ignoring the ache in your ankles where they scratched you.

“Hurry up, angel! You’re almost there!” Mammon screeches, holding out a hand to help you up. Your reach for his hand, finding that his hand is shaking just as much as yours.

His hand is suddenly getting farther and farther away, wind billowing through your clothes. You see his mouth open but you don’t hear anything. Your back makes a loud crack as you land on the hard ground, making a scream rip from your throat. You can’t move as they all start to move away from the bottom of the ladder and towards where you landed, attention all on you now.

All you hear for a moment is ringing before it clears and you hear Mammon’s voice screaming at the top of his lungs. “No! Stop! Over here! Look! Come this way! Please!” You move your head to see blurry figures shuffling towards you. You blink a couple of times and then bring your eyes to the screaming voices, watching as tears roll down Mammon’s face as he tries to break free from Lucifer’s and Diavolo’s grasp to jump down the wall. Apparently, the zombies took down the other ladder too.

All you can do is smile at him despite your situation. It was only a matter of time before something like this happened to you. You’re just glad it was you and not someone else.

“I love you,” you try to say but it comes out as a whisper. You think he read your lips though because he’s suddenly collapsing to his knees atop of the wall, his whole body shaking.

“Please get up! Run!” he shrieks. Your form is blurred by the tears but he’s grateful that he can’t watch clearly as zombies swarm you and start to claw and bite at your flesh. He can, however, hear your agonizing, excruciating screams that rattle his very bones.

He’ll never be able to forget that sound.

He’ll never forget the way you looked as you lied there staring up at him.

He’ll never forget the candle and ravioli.

He’ll never forget the flirting. The jokes. The puns. The pick-up lines.

He’ll never forget meeting you, laying next to you in the hay, and watching the sunset together.

He won’t forget any of it and that’s what hurts the most.

Mammon screams himself awake, his body covered in a cold sweat and shaking violently. He can barely breathe with how heavy and tight his chest feels, his lungs feeling constricted and squeezed to force their air out.

He flinches when his lights flick on, his eyes moving to the switch to find you in your pajamas, completely frazzled. “Mammon! What happened? Are you okay?” you ask as you scurry into his room and over to him, quickly pulling him into a hug. He stays limp in your hold for a moment before squeezing you to him and starting to sob.

You hold him as he cries, your heart aching for the crying man in your arms. You want to know what happened to make him like this but his wellbeing comes first. You soothingly shush him and whisper sweet nothings in his ear, one hand rubbing his back while the other combs through his hair.

He shakes even when he’s done crying, his eyes feeling heavy from all the crying. “Mammon...do you want to tell me what’s wrong?” you whisper, gently pulling back to look at him. Your heart breaks when you see his red and swollen eyes. He sniffles, or tries to since he’s too stopped up, and then rubs his runny nose with his sleeve. You decide not to point this out, knowing he doesn’t care at the moment.

“I just had a bad dream, angel. (Y/n). Don’t worry about it,” he mumbles before slowly laying back down. You probably would’ve been flustered at the sound of the pet name, if it didn’t seem to be an accident. “You should go back to sleep. It’s late. I’m sorry I woke you up and worried you,” he mutters, brushing his problems off like they don’t matter.

You frown as you stand up from his bed, walking towards the door. His eyes start to water again when you actually get up and leave, his whole body feeling heavy and cold. He wipes at his nose again and holds in any sounds when you turn off the lights.

You leave him in a nightmare and you’re leaving him now.

He nearly jumps out of his skin when you get onto the other side of his bed, his body dipping when you climb onto his mattress. He can barely see you in the dark but he can see your shadow’s outline. He silently watches you pull the covers back and slide your legs in, laying on your side so you’re facing him.

“You matter, Mammon. Your troubles are my troubles,” you reassure, slowly reaching your hand out and clasping his hand in yours. He can’t help but smile a bit at your soft and sweet words. That’s just like you to stay with him and make him feel better. He shouldn’t have doubted you.

“Do you want to talk about it?” you ask again when he doesn’t respond to your previous words. He stays quiet for a minute but you feel his grip tighten on your hand.

“I, um, don’t want to go into too much detail, but...all of us were in the zombie apocalypse and...you died,” he whispers. You scoot closer to him and bring your free hand to gently cup his face.

“Hey, it’s okay. Everyone has nightmares. It wasn’t real though. I’m safe, with you, right here,” you reassure softly, scooting closer and closer to him until you’re pressed to his chest. He buries his face into your neck, his body still shaking a bit.

“I know. It just felt so real, and I-” Your brows furrow when he stops, trying to pull back to look at him but he holds you tightly against him.

“Mammon?” you call against his chest, your hands rubbing his back and chest.

“I love you,” he blurts. You both go as still as statues, both of your hearts pounding now. Mammon tries to keep you against his chest but you manage to pull away to stare up at him.

“What?” you blurt, your brain still trying to process those three words.

“Ah, sorry. I just, um, didn’t get to tell you in my dream—nightmare. I just...I wanted to be able to tell you before it was too late again,” he says so softly that you would’ve missed it if your faces weren’t inches away from each other. His eyes widen when he sees you smile, his face starting to heat up.

“Well-” he starts.

He doesn’t even get a chance to take it back, to reassure you that you don’t have to say it back, to come up with a lie as to why he said it or that he didn’t mean it. He couldn’t say anything with the way your lips are passionately pressed against his.

He lets out a whimper as he returns it, squeezing you tightly as he kisses you like it’ll be the last time he gets to. His tongue is quick to slide against your lips and slip into your mouth, a happy hum escaping him. You two stay like that for a while, sharing a heated kiss until you are forced to pull away to get air into your desperate lungs.

You two pant for air as you stare into each other’s eyes, there being just enough light in the room to do so. “I love you too, birthday boy,” you say between pants. He grins from ear to ear before crushing you to his chest for a hug.

“I love you, angel. I’m so in love with you. I love you with everything I am, that I will be,” he rushes out, wanting to get it out before he chickens out and gets too embarrassed. You giggle as you place kisses along his chest and work up his neck to his jaw before finding his lips.

“Okay. I love you too. No more playing zombie games with Levi before bed though.”

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A/N: Yes I made a The Arcana reference. It’s so funny because I wanted to do an apocalypse au because where I live there have been a lot of forest/field/etc fires so the sky has been yellow and smokey all day every day and then in his birthday event he said that he and Levi played a zombie game and I was like OH MY GOSH WOAH. Lmao I hope you enjoyed and you don’t hate me because ily

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Tag List: @mexicanmagick, @animefreak-247, @jungialo, @fanfictwarrior, @ohbbobeyme, @zeldan7, @otome-otakuwu, @fandomsarepainful, @azcela, @niphredil-14, @gamelovers-posts, @virtualmemmecollector, @collarjessie, @officialdevorak, @katelynwithpaint, & @buzzybeebee ✦ if you would like to be added or removed, comment or send an ask :)

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chocolate-parfait · 4 years

Note

Hello! Can I get a headcanon where MC(they/them) gets a little lonely so they climb a tree in the middle of the night to get to Comte/Mozart/Napoleon's room window. How would the boys react?

THIS TOOK SO LONG IM SO SORRY!!! +they're more scenarios than headcanons I hope you dont mind ;-; (I also hope you dont mind the amount of cheesiness i put into this lmao)

(+Trees shouldn't stay at a arm's length from houses because they can cause big problems in case of storms or things like that,, let's pretend for the sake of the story that they don't and that's why they're so near the windows)

Comte

Mama Comte was just chilling in his armchair, drinking a glass of red wine while letting his thoughts chase each other in endless circles, vivid images of past memories dancing behind his closed eyelids. More often than he liked to admit, he'd find himself in these exact circumstances, and that night was certainly no different. It was probably way past midnight when the still silence that hovered in the room was interrupted by a small whisper, followed by another and another one again. Attracted by the curious sound the pureblood got up from his sit and walked to the window, opening it with one swift gesture

"Comte, here!"

After his dark pupils focused on a silhouette that was undeniably yours, a rare look of shock and disbelief crept upon his features. Despite having risked falling to the ground like a sack of potatoes multiple times while climbing all the way to one of the highest branches of the tree, the man's expression made the effort more than worth the danger

Before he could ask you what in the world you were doing perched on a tree branch in front of his room at such a late hour, you eagerly told him why, words leaving your mouth in a single breath

"I-i couldn't fall asleep and thought of you and then I had this sudden urge to see you but I didn't know if you were awake so I climbed this tree to see if your light was on and then-"

As his caramel eyes softened and a warm smile appeared on his lips, Comte asked for you to stay still, and mere seconds after the last syllable reached your ears, you heard the fluttering of his coat that was now right in front of your widened eyes

Had he???just???jumped from his window????to land?????on a tree branch????next to you??? MC: why though? Comte: why not- MC: BUT why th- Comte: why not.

Giggling at your reaction while securing you against his chest, something was extremely clear in his eyes. Since you came all the way up there just to see him, it would have been a terrible waste to just send you away, right? And you knew he wouldn't have taken a no as an answer

"Hold on tight, ma chérie. We wouldn't want you falling down, now would we?"

Taking advantage of the position you were both in and with the excuse of possibly falling down, you contentedly snuggled in the crook of his neck; soft, expensive fabric caressing your cheek while his perfume rubbed on you, sure to remain there for at least a week

Comte on the other hand didn't complain nor move away, watching as your hair moved under the moonlight, softly swayed by the wind

Maybe spending a night in someone's company was a better alternative than staying alone, after all

Mozart

Mozart hadn't realized it had gotten that late until he finally closed the fall board of his piano, looking out of the window to see the stars and a full moon shining gently over the dim lit marble pavement of the music room

Almost one year ago on a night with the same moon, you walked out of Comte's door, looking as confused and scared as a little fawn. Since then you worked hard all over the mansion doing all kind of tasks, and though he'd have loathed the idea before, you two ended up getting incredibly close. Only lately he had started noticing many weird little behaviors that were slowly becoming a part of his routine; the way he had now stopped putting off having breakfast to play the piano in order to see you sooner, how his guts seemed to writhe whenever he saw you smiling at someone else, and as if it wasn't already enough, he found his thirst for blood more and more insatiable

Knowing what that meant but still fearing the answer, he tore himself away from the disheartening path his thoughts were taking, finally snapping back to reality. When he did so, a gleam coming from the tree near the window caught his attention. The closer he got, the more he seemed to distinguish your moonlit form standing in the foliage. Was he hallucinating now? Were his mind and heart so full of thoughts of you to the point of imagining your figure in the weirdest of places?

Before he could realize that you were in fact right outside his window, you called out to him, causing the poor man to flinch in surprise. Despite the harsh scolding that followed your appearance, just seeing his face was enough to ease the stingy feeling that was keeping your heart in a tight embrace. Seeing the bittersweet look in your eyes, Mozart couldn't stop his voice and gaze from softening considerably. But how could he not? Over the past months he had subconsciously started to consider you the one closest to his heart, and you were, more than he was ready to admit, his worst weakness

Sighing to himself as he reached past the parted glass panels to brush some leaves off your hair, he asked you "So, what are you doing here at this ungodly hour of the night?"

Amethyst spheres focusing on your expression, you told him the whole truth, not that you could easily make up a lie, seeing the position you were in. "I know you don't like it when people come into the music room, so this was the easiest way..." As if he had the strength and willpower to get angry at you, he thought. "A-anyways I-...I just wanted to see you, that's all."

Oh Gott, if only you could hear the way his blood pace sped up its tempo at the sound of those words, though you probably could see the way his usually pale cheeks were now flushed in a lovely shade of red. He, too, missed you, and now that the constant feeling of longing had met a correspondent in your gaze, it reached its bursting point

Not bothering to ask you permission to, he roughly grasped your wrist and pulled you away with superhuman strength from the offshoot you were sitting on. You were now on sill of the window, facing him and just inches from his doll-like face. Glancing up at him you found a pair of violet eyes staring back at you with the intensity and strength of a storm. Had he always been this bold? Had his irises always been this full of raw passion? Had his body always been this warm?

Your heart was thumping so loud in your ears that it was as if you were standing in the middle of an orchestra, senses all focused on him and only him. All the times were you hoped to be held like this by him came crashing onto your mind all at once, the fiercest blush born from the slow realization of how those fantasies were finally reality blooming on your cheeks

The tight grip he kept on your hips told you he had no intention to let go of you soon, but who would be so foolish to not take advantage of the situation?

That night, after months and months of anonymous, mutual feelings, you and the pianist were able to manifest the most breathtaking of emotions through the words that you'd have kept hearing for a lifetime, the touches and caresses that would have been the same for the years to come, moved by never changing feelings to express an everlasting love; but you were sure, you were oh so sure, that none of them would have ever been enough

Napoleon

Unlike any other day, Napoleon wasn't tired at all, rather, he felt quite restless instead. That morning you had accompanied him and Isaac in their usual "street lessons" to the children of the city, and ever since then, a whole storm of butterflies had been freely running around his stomach. Each time your laughter ringed in his ears, each time your eyes twinkled with amusement, each time a smile as bright as the sun graced your lips, his heart couldn't help but leap with one of the greatest joys known to man: love. He wasn't an innocent boy who couldn't tell an emotion from the other, and he knew that this was a love like no other

Twisting and retwisting his thoughts in the attempt of getting to know about all the facets and implications this new feeling brought him, Napoleon let his feet carry him around the garden, similar to a lovestruck hero from a Shakespearean play tormenting himself over his beloved

He was so immersed in the meanders of his mind, that he barely heard you exclaiming his name in surprise. Barely, that is. As his brain registered your presence, his eyes and heart danced in search of you until they landed on the lowest arm of the pine tree near his window.

He looked at you and you looked at him, the soft sound of crickets the only melody filling the background. You could clearly see the way le Monsieur de Wahaha's shoulders shook in an attempt to keep in the raging fits of laughter that would have been surely let out soon enough. The same way, despite tears of amusement fogging his vision, Napoleon was extremely aware of the embarrassment creeping up your features

"Nunuche" he managed to say in between his strangled fits, "what in- pftt- what are you doing there-"

"I just wanted to thank you for today so I had been searching for you- S-stop laughing at me, you moron! I'm trying to be serious here!!" How could he take someone who was perched on a tree in the middle of the night seriously? You truly were a silly one

With arms opened wide, he walked over the pine trunk and with a tender but still lightly shaking tone that was exclusive for your ears only, he said "Come! I'll definitely catch you, mon amour"

You just stared at him in silence with the widest eyes your head could muster without popping them out of their orbits. You were just a couple meters from the ground, sure, but was he truly this confident in catching you? And did he just call you "my love"?? There was a LOT to unpack for your brain, but the man had no intention of letting you idle by with your thoughts for long, challenging you with his vivid emerald eyes as if to say "what, you don't trust me?"

The fearless Napoleon had this habit of infusing in others a courage so strong, that even the most impossible action seemed achievable; and that, with a bit of adrenaline caused by how quick the silent night escalated when the Nightmare of Europe stepped into the scene, made you follow his command. And you jumped.

The rustling of leaves above your head, a strong pair of arms around your torso, a silent breathing interrupted by a low chuckle that could've melted all the glaciers in the world. His smell, his warmth, his voice, they were all so close and yet so distant, just like his heart. He wasn't yours and you had no right to claim him as so, but being with him was all you needed and wanted the most

"What are you thinking about?" He asked with a curious look, still holding you between his arms. As much as you wanted to answer him, no words were forming in your mind that was so full of him and so empty at the same time. All the boldness from the jump had dissipated in the air the same way one would puff out air from his lungs in the night sky

But when words fail us, actions find their way through our minds. Slipping a pair of arms behind his neck, you snuggled against his chest and whispered "Let's stay like this, just for a little longer, please"

He couldn't help but comply; your wish was his command and he, the Emperor of France, was your slave

#my writing #ikevamp scenarios #ikevamp headcanons #ikevamp imagines #ikemen vampire #ikevamp comte #ikevamp mozart #ikevamp napoleon #comte de saint germain #wolfgang amadeus mozart #napoleon bonaparte

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kpopchangedmylife44 · 4 years

Text

Ateez: honeymoon thread

Hello fellow atinys, my blog reached 500 followers and I would like to thank everyone, who enjoys my stories 🥺 I’m really happy that someone out there gets to read them and it maybe put a smile on their face ☺️ So this is a 500 follower special. It’s a long thread and also kind of a sequel of my wedding post. I planned it for quite some time, but I also procrastinated and everything was overwhelming in life. Now I’m back (kinda) and will start to work on the requests I got. ✨

Hongjoong

Planning: although you both were extremely tired, you insisted to plan everything yourself, so it turned out exactly how you imagined

Location: Italy

Accommodation: several cozy hotels in bigger cities

Food: it’s Italy so you can bet your ass there is a lot of pizza, spaghetti and ice cream involved

Activities:

- you would start your honeymoon in Rome, where you wander around and fall in love with the city

- the architecture and museums are extremely beautiful, so you’re even more happy that you get to experience it with Hongjoong

- visiting Verona and pretending you were Romeo and Juliet (but with a happy ending)

- eating a lot and wearing comfortable clothes as you walk around so much

- Hongjoong is particular affectionate during this trip as he showers you with compliments all the time and never lets go of your hand

- exploring Venice by boat and singing some dramatic song that you once heard in a opera

- wearing couple jackets he designed himself which feature your initials 🥺

- he filmed parts of the trips as he would like to make a short film, which you could enjoy afterwards

Seonghwa

Planning: since you both hated it, you were hiring someone to do it for you, at least you had prepared a mood board and the general direction of your trip

Location: south of France

Accommodation: fancy all the way, either a really nice hotel or a little castle (or chateau how you say it in French)

Food: grapes in the form of wine

Activities:

- prepare yourself for the luxurious trip of a lifetime

- you’re arriving there and everything is ready for you both

- first are reFrEsHMents (which means alcohol)

- full course meals (and yes, this includes your husbands looks)

- boat trips and visiting tiny islands for the day

- taking a lot of selfies

- enjoying the sun and the food (and Seonghwa in swimwear)

- skinny dipping in the sea

- hot nights in the hot tub

- testing wine and feeling a little pretentious

- visiting a chateau and running around there like a music video

- Seongwha saying ,,so ha“ when he sees you

- kisses your hand and hair all the time and is more clingy (or thirsty) than usual

Yunho

Planning: you try to plan without the stressful part, so you ask a professional for help and it’s really smooth from this point on

Location: nationalparks in the USA

Accommodation: small hotels along the road (not Motels)

Food: normal restaurants, but also a lot of burgers

Activities

- it’s like a roadtrip, but way more comfortable

- you sleep in cozy little hotels and visit some bigger cities along the way

- wandering around the nature with Yunho is actually really fun

- although he is quite hyper around everyone he enjoys the calmness of your trip

- always holding your hand and kissing you

- you visit several national parks like Yosemite and could gaze at the stars during the night

- englishi Time

- he is no longer yunhoe bit yunhusband (i’m sorry)

- buys dumb souvenirs like mood rings which you religiously wear from then on

- thought that he saw a bear and almost started crying

- singing really loudly in the forest

- oh and also outdoor sex

Yeosang

Planning: 8 months before the trip, but he actually always had ideas; planned his wedding and honeymoon years ago when he first met you, he also made a mood board and it helped a lot

Location: Japan during the cherry blossom

Accommodation: a traditional house with a lot of privacy, an onsen but also room service, does not look like a hotel but has all the privileges

Food: lots of chicken; Japanese dishes, but also snacks whenever you go out to explore

Activities

- you would first explore Tokyo and visit everything the city has to offer

- as the city is really beautiful but also hectic, you would visit Nara-park and pet the deers to relax

- you would let some street artist paint a portrait of you both as it’s a really fun idea to remember the trip

- shiba inus everywhere and Yeosang melts every time he sees one of them

- ,,Look at how cute they are. We need to adopt at least one in the future“ (and you would, because they are so adorable)

- fotoshootings with the cherry blossom

- after a week in the urban area you would travel along the coast

- Yeosang rented a car for it and you stayed at different hotels along the way, which you also booked prior

- you visited a little island where a lot of bunnys live and had the best time there

- Yeosang always buys souvenirs whenever you visit a new city or attraction

- he especially loves the postcards as he plans to do a collage with them for your honeymoon fotobook

- driving along the coast would be peaceful and filled with laughter, Yeosang giggling to himself and feeling like all of this might as well be a dream

- ,,I never knew it was possible to love someone so much until I met you“

San

Planning: you booked the trip 6 months prior and you gradually became more and more excited for it, although both of you aren’t really into planning, you did it with a lot of excitement and talked about it for hours on end

Location: South Africa

Accommodation: a huge wooden house in the middle of a resort that focuses on reserving the wildlife

Food: a huge variety of fruits and meat, the dinner is a feast every single day of your stay (and so is your husband)

Activities:

- the journey itself would be really cute as you were flying first class and cuddled all the way until you arrived

- San even mumbled in his sleep how excited he was to finally go

- when you arrived you took it really easy, just relaxing at the resort, which also had huge beds and a stunning outdoor area with a whirlpool

- the first evening you relaxed in that whirpool, while spotting some giraffes in the distance and it just hit you like ,,Wow, look how amazing life could be” (bish, I wish)

- you never really believed that you would ever be this happy, finding someone that you loved and going on adventures with him but here you are

- and of course San felt it too, but you just sat there enjoying it, holding hands and not saying anything

- the next couple of days included going on safari, climbing a mountain, standing under a waterfall and chasing sunsets

- it was the perfect balance between adventure and relaxing

- because of your husband you always felt a calmness by his presence

- ,,I wish we could do this all over again, San.“

- ,,Well, we have the rest of our lives to go on adventures like this.“ 🥺🥺🥺

Mingi

Planning: like the wedding itself it happened quite fast without much planning

Location: Australia

Accommodation: several hotels as you also rented a car

Food: some really strange exotic food, but mostly real meals with the occasional burger and cocktails

Activities

- the focus is on having fun, enjoying every moment and just going with the flow

- after all its Mingi, who has a lot of spontaneous ideas

- why not go snorkeling or run naked around the beaches?

- or that time he was convinced that he saw a shark and you both panicked and screamed (but it was a dolphin)

- going to a concert at the beach and dancing until your feet hurt and he has to carry you

- also sleeping at the same beach as you two were too drunk to find the way back to the hotel

- Mingi being extra clingy and giving some people the stink eye, who look too enthusiastically at you

- he wrote a rap for you (inspired by your honeymoon) and performed it by the ocean

- it’s like having the best trip of your life and realising it doesn’t end when you get home, because having Mingi as your husband is a great adventure and he spends every day trying to make you laugh and love life

Wooyoung

Planning: the location itself was decided a long time ago, but the activities are more spontaneous, just going with the flow

Location: Iceland

Accommodation: first in a hotel, then in a mobile home

Food: fresh food like fish and also a lot of snacks

Activities:

- your honeymoon and accommodation were a little unconventional

- you started in the city of Reyjkavic and visited the touristy sights

- you stumbled around the Icelandic phallological museum and decided to go inside for the lols (and had a lot of giggles)

- after a few days in the city you ventured out to the beautiful nature of Iceland

- it started at the blue lagoon, which was the most relaxing thing and you were just hanging out and sipping slushees (they are really good, I had the time of my life lmao)

- then you drive around and it feels like absolute freedom

- you feel like exploring a whole new world as they are a lot of waterfalls and geysers

- Wooyoung feels like he is falling in love with you even more (if that’s even possible) and if he hadn’t already, he would marry you then and there again

- star gazing as there is no air pollution and it’s amazing how many stars there actually are

- visiting the diamond beach, which sparkles and has you feeling like little kids

- long morning snuggles and random hugs throughout the day

- and he would also be your personal photographer and scream how cute you are

- your honeymoon would also include really random stuff (like the penis museum) like skateboarding in the middle of nowhere (like Walter Mitty - the absolute legend) or hiking because you felt like it

- never a dull moment with your husband that’s for sure

Jongho

Planning: he wanted everything to be perfect so you started pretty early (1 year before)

Location: England

Accommodation: small hotels with cozy interior

Food: pretty normal food, you also tried fish & chips once (and it was nothing special)

Activities:

- would hold your hand during the whole flight

- you started your honeymoon in London which you loved at first sight

- the hotel was really central, so you could walk to a lot of sights

- London by night was magical and you visited many museums which had great artwork and were free

- theater nights and going for a walk along the Thames

- after a week you started to explore the cities around London like Oxford, Brighton and Cambridge

- and everything was so stunning and with Jongho by your side you could literally cry, because does it get much better than this??? (well no)

- Jongho declares his love for you at least once a day and although it was so cheesy it still got you giggling and feeling all mushy inside

- he loves all the old buildings and biscuits, so you would probably visit again sometime

- it’s a really nice and somehow relaxing trip although you get to explore so much

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sunsetcurbed · 3 years

Text

you showed me faith is not blind (miracles happen)

Pairing: Alex/Willie Words: 6,587 Rating: T Chapter Warnings: none Chapter: 10/11 read on AO3

Chapter Summary: “Good luck tonight. I look forward to your speech.”

And that left him where he is now, completely sure that he has made a mistake in his decision.

He picks up his phone.

(15:54) lmao nvm

(*)

Alex is not going to be Prince.

He’s not sure why he said he was going to be in the first place because clearly it’s an absolutely ludicrous idea. Alex is barely a functioning human, he can’t be a prince!

He’s pacing his room, keeping his eyes averted from the charcoal grey suit that’s laid out on his bed. He’d just taken it out of its garment bag and it has been taunting him, as if saying this is your future, you don’t belong. And he doesn’t belong, does he? The suit is like nothing he’s ever worn, not even for the dinner a few weeks ago, and if he chooses to become prince this suit would just be the first of many, and—it’s too good for him. He’s not good enough for it. He’s not good enough to be Prince.

He looks at the clock. His driver is supposed to be here to get him in six minutes, but Alex hasn’t even started to get dressed. His family has already left for the Ball, and he’s got no idea what to do.

He might not be having these thoughts if it weren’t for his surprise visitor a few minutes ago, but then again, he might have ended up here no matter what. But, really, how else was he supposed to react after Caleb Covington shows up at his door and completely runs his spirit into the ground? His decision was already standing on pretty shaky legs this morning once he’d woken up, the high from last night gone. By the time he’d taken his anxiety medications, eaten breakfast, showered, and helped his family get ready he was already starting to doubt himself. He was planning a back up speech in his mind. And then—

“Alexander,” Caleb said from the front of his porch, leaning against one of the beams. Alex’s family had just left minutes before, so he was left to face Caleb alone. “How nice to see you.”

“Yeah,” Alex said, “it must be, considering you drove out of your way to come find me. What are you doing here?”

“Such insolence. I’m just here to congratulate you on your big night. Not everyone gets to speak at the Beasigan consulate. You’ll be up there addressing hundreds of people from all around the world; quite the feat for a sixteen year old with almost no formal training.” There was a glint in Caleb’s eye, as if he had known about Alex’s anxiety, knew that Alex’s stomach was flipping as soon as ‘hundreds of people’ left Caleb’s lips. “I just wanted to stop by and ask—“

Alex shook his head. “No,” he said, willing his stomach to settle. “No—okay, I know what you’ve been doing. Chasing down Willie, stalking him to get a read on me. It’s not going to work. You can’t make me do anything.” Caleb stares him down. Alex feels himself bending, as if he’d just disrespected a superior, but he doesn’t crack, doesn’t break.

“Stalking? Please. I just wanted to get to know William,” Caleb said. “He seemed to love skating the streets of Hollywood so much it wasn’t hard to find him. I just thought, as Speaker of the House of Crane, I should be working to get to know our possible future Prince Consort. After all, he’d be around the palace a lot. What with his… duties. Counseling you and charities. He seems the just the type for that, your William.”

Alex didn’t think too much on that in the moment, just crossed his arms and sighed. “My driver is going to be here in thirty minutes. I’ve got to finish getting ready.”

“I won’t keep you. But. The Beasigan people are strong and united,” Caleb hummed, looking down at his nails, studying them as if he’d been looking for any flaws that he might have to file or buff out before the ball that night. “They can be a bit… skeptical… of outsiders. So don’t let that get to you.”

Alex narrowed his eyes. “Really? As I recall, you’re the one who wanted to prevent outsiders from having a place in our country, not the people. And you were stopped. I’ve been nothing but welcomed by everyone I’ve met.”

“And you’ve met how many people?” he asked with a flat voice. “Ten? Twenty? Thirty? Do they speak for our sixty thousand? They’re diplomats, they’re programmed to be polite, being diplomatic is quite literally in their name.” He shoved off the column and walked towards Alex. “But! I’m not here to try to intimidate you, no. I’m here to wish you all the best! Whatever you decide. Truly, Alexander. I just implore you to think.”

“What do you think I’ve been doing since my grandmother showed up in my life?” Alex shot back.

Caleb huffed a laugh. “That’s right.” He turns to leave, and then pauses. “Funny thing about ruling a country—no one really knows what it’s like until they’ve been in that position. Even I don’t know what it’s like. I have experience in Parliament—and you have experience in… Well.” He tilted his head to the side and offered Alex a smile. “But you know what it’s like living a normal life. Your band, your friends, your boyfriend, all without the stress of…” He put his fingers together. “But I suppose you’re right. You have been thinking about it since Queen Louisa entered your life. And I’m sure you’ve considered all the angles, all the benefits and especially the repercussions. You must have had plenty of time to do that, I imagine. After all, you’ve had a month and a half—why, that’s practically a lifetime to consider this. It’s not like you’ve only been given a week or two to make this decision.”

Alex tightened his arms around his chest. “Mr. Covington—“

“Caleb, please.”

“Caleb, I really must be getting ready. I will see you at the ball, all right?”

Caleb nodded. “Of course. You must excuse me, sometimes I forget myself.”

“It’s no worry,” Alex said, even though he could have been rude because no one but himself and Caleb were around. Manners were so deeply ingrained in him by that point that it just… happened.

“Good luck tonight. I look forward to your speech.”

And that left him where he is now, completely sure that he has made a mistake in his decision.

He picks up his phone.

(15:54) lmao nvm

Willie, wonderful Willie, calls within two minutes.

“Hello?” Alex answers.

“What happened?” Willie asks.

Alex sucks in a breath that gets caught in his throat. It turns into a sob. “Why did I think I could do this? I’m not—I’m not cut out for this. I wasn’t born to be a prince. I don’t know why I said I would be in the first place, that—that’s so stupid, Willie, do you realize how stupid that is?”

“No,” Willie says, and then, away from the speaker, thanks someone. Alex hears a car door slam and an engine start. “No, I don’t Alex, because I think it’s a great idea.”

“Where’s the great idea?”

Willie hums. “Hidden behind a wall of anxiety.”

“Oh, cute,” Alex scoffs. “Anxiety saves lives, you know. There are times when your body is telling you something is wrong because it is.”

“Anxiety also keeps lives from being lived. Your body isn’t telling you this is wrong, your body is telling you this is dangerous. And you believe it. You didn’t believe it last night when you weren’t anxious, Alex, and that tells me that you want to do this.”

“I want to do this?” Alex scoffs. “Willie, you don’t even know what you want to do with your life and you’ve got it so much more figured out than I do. And here I am deciding to sign my life away at sixteen to a country that I’ve never been to. A country that could choose to reject me at first sight. A country that I knew nothing about a month and a half ago.”

“A country that you love,” Willie reminds him.

“How can I love it when I’ve only known it for a month?”

“Because you’ve met its queen, and you love her heart and her hopes for the future. Because you’ve met its Prime Minister and you love his ideas and his plans for the future. Because you’ve seen its people and you love them—for all that they stand for and all that they are, and because they are good people and they deserve a good leader, and that’s what you will be.”

Alex doesn’t have anything to say to that, so he keeps his mouth shut. He does love Beasiga, but it feels impossible that he does even with all the reasons that Willie just explained. He’s never even been there. Los Angeles is all Alex has known and Beasiga is 1.5% of Los Angeles’ population and Los Angeles is nearly three and half times the size of Beasiga. And Alex likes Los Angeles because it’s easy to disappear and everyone is so busy they don’t have time to notice you. Alex has only experienced Beasiga through stories and media, but he knows it’s not like Los Angeles over there. People say hi when they pass you on the street, they help you if you’re struggling to carry something too heavy, and they don’t let you fade into the background. He—he likes that, but it also terrifies him.

The silence stretches on over the phone, occasionally interrupted by Willie’s turn signal or the honking of another car, but after a few minutes, Willie breaks it. “You’re wrong, you know. I do know what I want to do with my life.”

… That’s a new development. “Yeah? What’s that?”

“Be Prince Consort to Beasiga’s King,” he says without missing a beat. Alex’s heart skips a beat. “Spend my days helping you help make Beasiga, and the world, a better place. Continue to help move Beasiga forward.”

“Willie…” Alex sighs. He’s torn on being ecstatic and worried at hearing that. “You’re just being—“

“Don’t say I’m just being impulsive,” Willie cuts him off, “because I have been thinking about this since the night you first told me you were a prince. I’ve known I loved you for a long time, Alex, and I’ve been thinking about what this would mean for me since the beginning. I’ve done my research, I’ve thought it through, I’ve sat on it. I’m not just jumping at it first chance.”

Caleb’s words come back to him. He seems just the type for that, your William. No. No he doesn’t. Willie is an active mind, an active body, an active soul. He’s not meant to sit still next to Alex. “Don’t you think you deserve more than that? That if you choose that, you’ll wake up one day and regret it?”

“No,” Willie says, voice confident. “I was never going to make a career out of skateboarding or dance, and it’s not like I can’t still do those in Beasiga. If I’m doing a psych degree in college I’ll maybe look at being a therapist? And who knows, maybe part of helping move Beasiga forward is allowing me to have my own career path separate from my consort duties.”

“What if that doesn’t work? If you’re stuck being a consort without your own career?”

“Being a therapist is just an idea right now,” Willie reminds him. Alex can hear the casual tone of his voice, and it tells Alex that it really is just an idea, that it isn’t something Willie has his heart set on. Still, Alex wants that for him. “I have no idea if I actually want to pursue it or not. But if I do and it ends up not working out, then I’ll still have skateboarding. I’ll still have dance. I’ll still have the ability to make an impact in the world, make differences in peoples days and lives, work with charities, leave my mark. It’s not like I’ll be sitting bored every day. Consorts may have less to do but they don’t have nothing to do. And I can make up my own things to do. Move Beasiga forward. And… I’ll still have you.”

“… And you’re willing to do that for me?”

“I mean, it’s not just for you, it’d be for me, and even in part for Beasiga too, but… yeah.” It’s so simple for Willie to admit that. To say that he’d move to another country, adapt to a different culture, and learn the ins and outs of the country so he could properly advise Alex on how to properly rule that country. Willie’s always made comments—‘I told you, I’d do anything for you’—but Alex had never realized how literal he was being. But, well. If Alex is being honest, he’ll do almost anything for Willie, too. He knows there are things that both he and Willie would draw the line at, but neither he nor Willie would ever dream of asking the other of those things. Like Willie asking Alex to quit the band or Alex asking Willie to give up skateboarding. But Willie moving to Beasiga and serving as Prince Consort along side Alex? Is apparently something Willie will readily do. “If it’ll make you feel better, after you accept your place as Prince we can start talking to Louisa about changing the consort’s duties, so when the time comes, if I want to pursue a career, I’ll have that choice.”

“That… would actually make me feel better,” Alex admits.

“Then tomorrow, after your speech today accepting your place as Prince, we’ll discuss it with Louisa and see what she thinks. Good?”

“Good,” Alex says. Then—“hey. Wait. I still don’t—I still can’t—who said I was going to accept being prince?”

“All right, hit me,” Willie says, and then Alex does—words spilling out of him so quickly that he loses track of what he’s saying. Willie doesn’t though. He listens to Alex patiently and talks him through all of his fears, all of his anxieties. He reminds him of the reasons that, just yesterday, he decided he wanted to be Beasiga’s Prince. Willie listens as Alex questions those exact reasons, and then answers them himself without any input from Willie until it’s entirely a one-sided conversation and Willie is just along for the ride. When Alex comes to the conclusion he still wants to be Prince, Willie asks him how he feels about that, and listens to Alex stammer through half-finished sentences that don’t make sense. And when Alex calms down again, Willie is there to ask Alex if he’s okay, ask him how he can help, ask him if there’s anything he needs.

“No,” Alex shakes his head. “No, I… I’m okay. I think I really, actually am.”

“Okay,” Willie says, accepting his word easily. “All right, I’m turning on your street, come let me inside.”

“You—you’re here?”

“Where else did you think I was going?” Willie demands sounding slightly offended. “Of course I am. I’m gonna get rid of your driver and then we’ll drive to the Ball together, all right? Come unlock the door and start getting ready. I’ll be in in a minute. Where’s your room?”

“Take the stairs, go down the hall and it’s the one on the right.”

“All right. See you in a few.”

Alex does as he’s told and by the time he’s in his dress pants and slipping his button up over his arms, Willie steps into his room. Alex watches as Willie turns and shuts the door even though they’re home alone, and then walks over to him. He takes his place in front of Alex who is straightening his shirt on his shoulders and starting to button it up. They stare at each other, silent. Willie nods, murmurs, “you’re okay.”

Alex buttons up the last button of his shirt and tucks it into his pants. “Yeah,” he says. He reaches to his bed for his vest and slides it over his shoulders. He starts to button it up but Willie’s hands knock his away and take over. Alex watches him with careful eyes. “I’m sorry if I freaked you out.”

“You didn’t freak me out,” he says. He does up one, two, three buttons then smooths his hand down from Alex’s chest to his stomach. “I’m just… I’m kind of pissed at myself that I didn’t think of this. I should have expected this. I know you. It took you so long to decide; you didn’t have enough time to be sure of your decision. I should have known you were going to doubt yourself. You just… you were so sure of yourself last night. I didn’t think—”

“Hey,” Alex frowns, dipping his head down to look in Willie’s eyes. He doesn’t want to tell him about Caleb, not right now, not before the ball. He’ll tell him tomorrow, but right now, he needs Willie, and Willie would be livid if he learned about Caleb. “It’s not like this is on you. Even if you had thought if it, there isn’t anything you could have done—“

“I could have been here,” Willie argues, gripping the suit vest and pulling Alex closer. “I wouldn’t have had to talk you through it from my car. You wouldn’t have had to be alone.”

Alex sighs and reaches a hand up to Willie’s jaw so he can bring Willie’s face up to his. He presses their lips together and feels Willie melt against his front. Alex pulls away and lets Willie fall into him. “You were there when I needed you and that’s all that I needed. I mean, you’re going off to college next year anyway; I’m going to need to learn to survive without you at some point. I can’t depend on you for everything, and I really can’t depend on you to predict when something is going to go wrong and wait for you to fix it for me.”

“But if I can—“

“Willie,” Alex says, and then kisses him again. “You’re the reason I’m in this suit right now ready to go tell a whole ass group of people that I’ve decided I’m going to rule a whole other ass group of people in a few years. You’ve done absolutely everything you can.” Then he pulls away from Willie’s hold, eyes widening. “Shit. Shit. My speech.” He looks at the clock on his bedside table. 5:13 “I’m supposed to be giving a speech in seventeen minutes, fuck!”

“I texted Julie when I got here. She’s finding someone so she can tell Louisa what’s going on,” Willie tells him in a calm voice. “She might have already, okay? Get your jacket and tie on, get your shoes on, and I’ll go call her for an update.”

“Okay,” Alex breathes, and does exactly as Willie says.

When he emerges from his room three minutes later, Willie is standing by his front door with his hands in his pockets. He looks up, takes a hand from his pocket, and holds up a thumb and pinky at Alex telling him right away to relax. “We’re good, dude. Speech is at 6:30 now. It’s still a drive though, and we’ve gotta take Melrose to avoid 10 so we don’t hit rush hour on the highway, but it’s still gonna be shitty so we’ve gotta go now.”

What should be a twenty-minute drive ends up taking nearly an hour, so they spend the time devising a plan to talk to his grandmother about Willie’s hypothetical consort duties the next day. Willie starts telling Alex that they can wait, but Alex tells him no. If Willie is committing to Alex to this degree, then Alex wants to make sure that there won’t be any doors shut in Willie’s future. If Willie wants to be a therapist, he’s going to be a fucking therapist. Alex is sure his grandma will help them make it happen. She’s asked Willie what his plans for college are; yet she’s also made implications that he would be the one standing by Alex’s side if Alex were to be King. Why would she do that if she thought Willie would just be a piece at Alex’s side?

When they get to the consulate, Willie pulls them around back and down a driveway that Alex has never taken note of before. When Willie notices his confusion he says, “the press and guests are all… mingling in the halls.”

Alex snorts. “Did you just say mingling?”

“Yeah,” Willie grins. “It’s what Alden said on the phone. Now it’s all I can think of.”

They enter through the caterer’s entrance into a hall that Alex has never been down and Alden is there waiting for them. He greets them both and then leads the way through the hall, down another, and then another, until Alex can see his grandmother, John, and a few other people waiting at the end of the hall they turn into. He feels relief wash through him and, when his grandmother turns to look at him, he can see that same relief run through her as well.

“Oh, thank goodness,” she breathes out when they reach them. She steps forward and collects Alex into a hug, and then Willie, too. “Thank you, Willie, for sending Julie to inform me of what was going on.”

“No problem,” he shrugs. “I’m just glad it all worked out.”

“What on earth happened?” she demands, looking to Alex.

“Uh, minor crisis. Just… clearing my head, you know.” Next to him, Willie snorts.

“Clearing your head?” she asks.

“Uh… yes?”

She rolls her eyes and tosses her hands up in exasperation. “Well I hope your head clearing worked, because we go on in five minutes. Did you make a decision?”

His eyes flick to Willie. “Yeah. I did.”

“… do I get to know this decision?”

“You know? I waited sixteen years to find out I was a prince. You can wait five more minutes to find out whether I’m staying a prince.”

“Harsh,” Willie murmurs, but reaches forward to hook his pinky with Alex’s.

His grandmother looks down at their hands. She looks back up at Alex and shakes her head with a frown, but the effect is ruined a moment later when she breaks into laughter. “I suppose I can’t blame you for that one.”

They fall into casual conversation after that, his grandmother talking about Tasha and how she’d been asking about Willie today and admitted that he had beautiful hair that she wanted to mess around with. Alex laughs at that and Willie does too, but he notices his boyfriend’s face is several shades darker that it had been moments ago. John talks about how they had to remove two reporters for getting in a physical altercation, and seems gleeful while discussing it. Alden is all too interested in listening to the story, and is crestfallen when, in the middle of it, someone comes to retrieve them for the speech. They’re led down the hallway and as they go, the murmurings of voices grow. Alex can feel himself grow more and more tense realizing that he’s going to be under their gazes soon. Willie uses his pinky to drag Alex’s hand up, and then twists their hands in midair until their fingers are twined together.

“You’ll be fine,” he whispers.

His voice catches the attention of Alex’s grandmother who turns around and sees the look on Alex’s face. She relaxes her shoulders and reaches out, tapping her hands gently to his cheeks. “My dear, you will do wonderfully. I will be right up there with you, all right?” He nods. “Good. Now, I must go introduce you. You have a few minutes to prepare.” She turns to Willie. “Remind him how spectacular he is, will you?”

“On it.”

And then she’s gone.

“Hey,” Willie says, and Alex looks at him with wide eyes. “Hey. You with me?” He nods. “Good. Okay, so—you’re anxious right now because you’re about to give a speech and you think they’re going to be judging you for your speech, right? But those people out there are just out there to hear you step into your role as Prince. Alex, this is a good thing. Those people out there will be excited. They’re here to listen to you speak, not to judge you.”

“What if my speech sucks so bad they can’t help but judge me?” Alex asks.

“It won’t.”

“But what if.”

“Then fuck it—you had a bad speech. Everyone has bad performances. You’ve messed beats up during performances with the band and you don’t let those get to you, you brush them off and are ready to play the next gig. You remember when I was in tenth grade and kicked my shoe off into the audience during a performance and then kept slipping on the stage on my sock? It happened, it couldn’t be helped, we moved on. I moved on. If—and that’s a big if—you suck today, you’ll move on too, I promise, okay? I promise. And I’ll help you move on.” Willie leans up on his toes and kisses Alex. “You can do this, Alex. You know you can do this.”

Alex looks down at Willie and sees sincere, brown eyes staring up at him. He drags Willie in for a hug and just… just holds him. Willie returns the hug and pushes his face into Alex’s shoulder and they simply exist together surrounded by each other in a little bubble. He uses Willie’s breathing, working to match his own to it so he doesn’t start to get worked up again. Willie’s fingers are curled into his upper back and the pressure is just enough to ground him, just enough to keep him here and not somewhere far away in his mind where it really is just the two of them.

The bubble is popped a few minutes later when Alden returns to escort Alex to the makeshift stage. He’s reluctant as he pulls away from Willie, and Willie and Alden both know it, but the important thing is that he manages it. He nods at Alden and they start towards the stage, Willie at his side, right up until they reach the entrance to the hall. “I love you,” he whispers, and then stops in his tracks, leaving Alex to twirl around in surprise. He laughs, shooing Alex towards the stage. “Go.” Alex turns, casts a look back at Willie, and then walks forward.

As Alex steps out from the back hall and feels the weight of a room full of eyes fall on him, a fire roars to life in his gut, flaring up through his throat and leaving a bad taste in his mouth. Spots dance in his vision during his walk to his grandmother, but he takes a moment to think about his breathing, takes a moment to draw in a deep, full breath, filling his lungs with air, and the spots recede little by little. When he reaches his grandmother, they’re all but gone. She smiles at him and extends an arm out, sweeping her hand out to motion to the crowd, and Alex looks out. The fire burns hotter and he looks back to his grandmother. “You have the floor,” she says, and then retreats back several feet away. He wants to reach out, bring her back, cling on to her for support, but he can’t. He steps up behind the podium and looks back to the hallway he’d just come from and meets Willie’s eyes. Willie smiles at him and gives him and encouraging nod. Alex turns back to the crowd, where every eye is focused on him. He thinks: everyone is looking at him because he’s here to speak, not to judge him. He swallows, glances back at Willie once more, and quells the flame to the best of his ability.

“Hi, uh, I’m Alex. You… probably… all know that since my grandma just introduced me. Sorry. I—uh, kinda wish I had my drums, heh,” Alex laughs, running his fingers through his hair. “I’m, uh, no good with being in the spotlight, or, uh, attention in general, um, not unless I’m behind my drums. Or… uh… it’s really more me being with my band…” He looks out at the crowd and is pleasantly surprised when he finds Julie, Luke, and Reggie’s eyes right in the front, and Flynn standing next to them. They’re all wearing radiant smiles and directing them towards Alex, and the flame recedes further down his throat on its own, and he feels himself relax back into his shoes. “Which, thankfully for me, they’re the best band ever and they’re here with me today, so, uh, no fainting or vomiting for me today. Oh—I didn’t need to add that, did I? O… kay. Uh. Anyways. Uh, I’m sure most of you know me, or at least of me, if you’re here. I’m Queen Louisa’s grandson, and Prince Frederick’s son. If you didn’t know this, yeah, neither did I a month and a half ago. Heh. I was shocked too. But, yeah, I’ve gotten used to it. Hopefully you will too.

“Uh, so. Beasiga is celebrating its three hundred and sixth formation day today. For one of the first times, the reigning monarch is not in the country to celebrate with the citizens. Instead, she is here, in the Beasiga consulate in Los Angeles, California, United States of America, with all of us. And she is here because of me.” He looks over to where his grandmother is standing off to the side, her hands folded over her midriff and her shoulders set tall and proud. The fire subsides further. She smiles at him, a motion for him to continue. “Um, my grandmother came at the end of October to meet me and begin teaching me the ins and outs of Beasiga and what it meant to be a prince and what it would later mean to be a king. She dedicated her time here to me not for me, but for Beasiga. Uh, and she did it in hopes that I would become the person she envisioned me to be, in hopes that I would step up, accept my claim to the throne, and rule Beasiga justly and fairly, exactly as she has been teaching me to do.

“What she didn’t expect to come across when she got here was a sixteen year old kid with anxiety who immediately ran away from the idea of being a prince. And I do mean that literally. I, uh. I ran out of the consulate after she told me I would be Prince and had to have my friend come pick me up.” The crowd laughs, some with humor, some unsure, and Alex smiles. Alex turns to look back at the hallway where Willie is still tucked away. He smiles at him and Willie smiles back. It’s only embers left in his gut, now. “Hm. Anyway. Yeah, so, uh, she didn’t expect that, but it’s what she got, and she helped turn that kid with anxiety into the kid who… still very much has anxiety, but can stand up here speaking with all of you. Yes, it’s still terrifying, but it’s not debilitating anymore. And she also gave me a choice. To use everything she gave me to rule Beasiga, or to use it in some other facet of life.” He draws in a deep breath. “I chose to use it elsewhere. I was never cut out to be a prince. I never in a million years dreamed that I could.

“But—could. Could is a word that is used to indicate possibility. Thanks for the vocab help, Google. So… Would it even be possible for me to rule Beasiga? I don’t know. I didn’t know. Even if I wanted to, I didn’t know if it was possible, or if I was able. Able. Be able to. The question became can I? I doubted myself, and I started asking myself that question a lot more often. And then I started asking other people. Their answers varied. Most were encouraging which wasn’t helpful because it’s not like someone’s going to tell you that you’re going to suck at ruling a country, right? Yeah, no. I surround myself with kind people, but sometimes, kind people don’t tell you what you need to hear. But then—there’s one person. I asked him, I went, ‘do you think I can?’ And he said, ‘man, I don’t know. I just care about whether or not you’re willing.’” Alex says, pausing for a long moment. “So, it became a matter of whether I was willing, which was a much, much easier question to answer. Because, well, yeah. I am willing.

“I’m willing to study Beasigan history, politics, government, culture, and anything and everything else there is to know about Beasiga to know the country as best I can. I’m willing to grow myself as a person and conquer fears that once held me hostage to know myself as best I can. I’m willing to put aside my fears and confront uncertainty to find a place for myself in this world. But I’m also willing to dedicate myself to Beasiga through the good times and the bad. I’m also willing to work at finding ways of moving Beasiga forward, at leading Beasiga into even better times than it is already in, which of course will be a challenge, as my grandmother is quite the Queen. And most importantly, I’m also willing to choose the people of Beasiga over myself.

“I prematurely chose to use the skills my grandma gave me in a different walk of life. But today and every day moving forward I will choose to use them for the country and people of Beasiga.” There’s a whoop out in the crowd that Alex can identify as Reggie’s and he can’t stop himself from grinning at his friend. However, the cheer from Reggie starts the rest of the crowd, and now the rest of them are cheering and clapping as well. Alex watches, waiting for them to quiet down. When they do, he looks over to his grandmother and smiles. It’s easier than he could have ever imagined to say, “Moving forward, I will be Alexander Charles Taylor Mercer, Prince of Beasiga.”

Once more, cheers rise from the crowd in front of him. His grandmother walks up beside him and he steps out from behind the podium to meet her. She surprises him when she pulls him in to a hug in front of all these people, but he returns it without any hesitance.

When she pulls away, there’s a man waiting beside them, a royal purple and white mantle held in his arms. His grandmother takes it from the man and turns to Alex. He leans down so she can drape it over his shoulders. It weighs heavy on his shoulders and while he’s leaning down next to her he mutters, “do I have to wear this thing often?”

“Just for the next few minutes. Then you won’t see it again until your coronation.”

“Oh, thank god.”

His grandmother laughs and he stands back up, standing beside her with his shoulders tall and proud. The audience is still cheering—he can pick out Luke, Reggie, Julie, and Flynn’s voices in particular—and there are cameras flashing as news reporters get photographs for their articles. There’s a loud whooping from off to the side, separate from the crowd, and Alex looks over to see Willie cupping his hands around his mouth, cheering. He laughs, beaming at his boyfriend who returns the expression right back, and Alex feels on top of the world.

Dinner is served in the ballroom after that, which sends a wave of guilt through Alex as he knows the kitchens plan meals down to the minute, and his delay must have thrown them off horribly. Even so, the food is wonderful and Alex gets to sit with Willie, his band, and Flynn—or, sorry, his “honored guests.” His grandmother is sat at the table next to him with John, Alden, another commercial attaché, and Jeffry and Daniel. She sends him looks every few minutes, especially when Luke or Reggie get too loud, but they’re never bad, merely amused.

After dinner he’s passed from reporter to reporter while the tables and chairs are cleared out of the ballroom and the floor is swept. Alex imagines that it’s going to take forever, but to his surprise it only takes about fifteen minutes between all the staff working. So he only gets to talk to about five reporters, each for about three minutes, and then he’s being taken back to the hall so he can enter with his grandmother separately.

The music playing is an even tempo, one that Alex has become accustomed to dancing to over the past month and a half. When he and his grandmother enter together, right away his eyes begin searching for Willie. He can’t find him even by the time they reach the center of the room, so he releases her hand and leaves her to go off dancing with whoever has approached her and begins walking circles. He has a flash of anxiety that Willie might have left—maybe Willie didn’t want to be seen with Alex as a couple in front of so many cameras? Or even he knew Alex’s dad was here, maybe he didn’t want to upset the man? Or maybe he realized—

The crowd parts to the left of Alex and Willie steps out. Alex’s heart flutters in his chest and he feels the smile take over his face, sees Willie match it.

They approach each other slowly, not hesitantly, just taking their time to look at each other, which Alex feels like he hasn’t done yet. Willie is in a maroon suit with grey accents and a white under shirt. It’s not fitted to him—not the way that Alex’s is, the way Alex’s almost hugs him. Willie’s is a bit big, a bit baggy, but still fits him well enough that you wouldn’t notice if you weren’t staring. His hair is down, falling over his shoulders and coming to rest right above where his ribs begin, and Alex reaches out to grab a piece of the end of his hair, twirling it on his finger. “You look good,” he says.

“Just noticing?”

“Do you forget I was having my crisis earlier?”

Willie grins. “Right, the minor one.”

“Very minor, it all turned out okay in the end.”

“Good to hear.”

Alex drops the strand of hair he’s holding and steps back, bowing deliberately. Willie smiles and copies him. They straighten up and step into each other’s arms, relaxing into their holds.

“They’re taking pictures of us,” Willie murmurs and Alex can hear the clicking of the cameras too. “Everyone is going to know by tomorrow.”

“I’m glad. I don’t want anyone to feel like I was hiding this from them,” he says. “And I certainly don’t want to hide you.” He presses his lips against Willie’s forehead and sighs. He tips his head forward so his nose is pressed against Willie’s hairline. “Just think,” he whispers, and his voice is barely audible to even the two of them over the music. “Tomorrow plenty of people all over the world are going to see these pictures and realize how fucking in love with you I am.”

Willie pulls away from Alex and stares up at him with bright eyes full of… full of so much. Full of trust, full of care, full of respect, full of warmth, full of acceptance, full of want. “I’m gone on you,” Willie says, reaching up and dragging Alex’s head down for a kiss. Alex goes, and they keep it chaste and appropriate for the venue, but. It was needed.

When they pull apart, Alex pulls Willie closer to him again and Willie buries his face in Alex’s shoulder as they abandon all pretenses of the traditional ballroom dance and decide to simply sway together. Alex holds Willie and looks up, looking around the room to find nearly every eye on them. The eyes of his friends, his family, the press, diplomatic leaders from around the world, and his new country’s government leaders are all on him and Willie. They just saw them kiss. He laughs and thinks, with a sense of déjà vu, yeah, he’d stare at whoever was kissing Willie too.

No fire burns in his gut, no panic wells in his veins.

#willex #willex fic #willex fanfic #jatp fic #jatp fanfic #ysmfinb #my writing

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carolinaflicker · 4 years

Text

still - sam winchester

pairings: sam winchester x reader, sam winchester x eileen leahy

summary: when eileen leahy walks into the winchesters’ lives and steals the younger brother’s heart, how is his girlfriend going to handle this new development?

warnings: angst. like so much angst. swearing, broken hearted reader, mentions of cheating, sam being a dumbass, eileen hate (I’M SORRY)

word count: 1,320

a/n: this is based off of the song still by niall horan!! i haven’t been able to get this concept out of my head. also lmao see if you can count how many 1d mentions i crammed in here

Sam stood still in the middle of his bedroom. The heat of the room seemed to increase with every moment passing by, correlating with the tension rising.

The woman in front of him was silent, yet the tears falling down her cheeks were betraying the secret of her emotions. She seemed to be foraging for words as her eyes stayed focused on the corner of the bedsheet.

“What was it?” Her broken voice filled the room.

Sam cleared his throat, “What was what?”

She paused for a moment. She kept her body still; her left arm remained slung across her body as her right hand held loosely onto her right cheek. Some hair fell from her untidy updo and framed her face as she began speaking.

“Whatever it was that made you choose her. There must’ve been something, right?”

Sam’s eyes flitted immediately to her face, shocked at the insecurity of the usually confident woman in front of him.

“Hey, hey. There was nothing, Y/N. Please believe me. You have to.” He crossed the room quickly and reached down to hold onto her arms, attempting to make her meet his gaze.

“Nothing?” Y/N’s face had filled with anger as she finally brought her focus up to his face, “How could it have been nothing? You chose her.”

“Sweetheart, please listen. Eileen-“

“Don’t say her name.” His once beloved kept her gaze locked onto his as she ripped her arms out of his grasp.

Sam’s expression turned crestfallen as he shifted slightly, “It’s complicated.”

“It’s complicated?” Y/N scoffed in disbelief, evidently irate. “I gave you 5 years of my life and she walked in two months ago. It was clearly an easy decision for you.”

Instead of answering, Sam looked to the floor, dismissing the topic entirely. Y/N noted the classic Winchester tactic.

“I hate seeing us like this. Seeing us broken up.”

Without permission, the flood of tears welled in Y/N’s eyes again as she choked on air, struggling to keep her composure with every fleeting minute. This wasn’t the Sam she had fallen in love with. She realised the man standing in front of her was a stranger.

“You did this to us, Sam. To me.” She could see him receding back into himself, unable to face the truth of his transgressions.

She continued, “Do you know how hard it is to watch it? To watch her wearing your shirts, walking around the bunker like she owns it? To see her sit in your lap as you read in the library? She took everything from me. And you let her.”

The look that Sam directed her way almost sent shockwaves through her body, but it only served as purpose for her anger to rise.

“What? Can’t handle the truth, Sammy? I know you think I have no reason to hate her cause she’s done ‘nothing’ wrong but, fuck, do I wish she were dead.” Y/N knew her words were harsh, however she had no intention of taking them back.

It was Sam’s turn to scoff. His hand reached to the slight scruff growing on his face, rubbing it in exhaustion. His steps fell heavy on the hardwood floor as he turned to take a seat on the end of the bed.

The two remained in uncomfortable silence for what felt like a lifetime. It was a strange feeling for her, to stand in unbreakable tension with the one man she had trusted everything with. She had never failed to speak her mind around him, yet here she stood speechless.

“I’m gonna ask you a question.” The sudden statement gained Sam’s attention, “You’re gonna answer me honestly.”

“Okay.” It was all he could say.

“Did you, um,” Y/N swallowed thickly, “Did you ever see her when we were still together?”

A beat.

“Don’t make me answer that.”

Y/N’s heart fell to the bottom of her stomach. The lunch that Dean had forced her to eat earlier threatened to rise to the top of her throat as she clenched her eyes shut and raised her hand to her mouth, breaking into silent sobs.

He let her cry in front of him as tears of his own spilled down his face, yet his expression remained as stoic as it could. The heaving from her chest grew louder and louder and Sam was sure it could be heard through the whole bunker.

Y/N hiccuped slightly and spoke as coherently as possible through her broken sobs, “You know, you were the first guy I ever met that didn’t turn on the charm for everybody else. I had so much pride knowing that only I got to see that side of you.”

“Things change, the night changes. I guess we lost it.” Sam didn’t even recognise the words coming out of his own mouth. Despite being the truth, he could never have imagined speaking to Y/N this way. He couldn’t seem to stop.

“Lost what, the spark? I’m sorry I didn’t manage to give you the honeymoon phase for half of a decade, Sam.” She rubbed at her stinging eyes.

“I love her.”

“No you don’t.”

He looked at her for the first time in 15 minutes as he gaped like a fish out of water, unable to process what he heard.

“It’s not real. I know your love isn’t real.” She seemed to drain with every sentence she spoke, “Maybe I should go out there and warn her. I’m never gonna be her friend but nobody deserves to be treated like shit by you again.”

“How can you say that? I loved you.” Sam seemed to be at his breaking point; his hair stuck in wild directions from where he had been pulling it in stress, his eyes were bloodshot and wide, and his clothes were a mess.

Y/N had become quiet and she sunk into the desk chair to the right of her old bed. She was whispering now, only releasing crackles of her voice.

“Did you, Sam? You know, I’ll be the first to admit that I’m reckless. I’m not stupid.” She ran both her hands up her cheeks and into her hair, “God, I can’t believe I let you use me for so long.”

“I never meant to hurt you.”

“But you did.” Y/N stood again, not sure of how to conduct any of her movements. She was on edge and uneasy, a stark difference to the comfortability she usually found in Sam.

“I’m standing here with you just trying to be honest. Why can’t you do the same?” She thought he at least owed her that much.

“I am! I don’t love you anymore.” Sam’s voice raised significantly higher as he now towered above her, shaking in exasperation. He noticed that she flinched when his tall frame rose and involuntarily took a large step back.

“I know, I know.” Y/N hugged her own body, exhaling harshly through her mouth, “But... I still love you. So please, just lie to me. Tell me you want me. Say it one more time.”

“I can’t.”

She already knew he couldn’t say it. She already knew that when they left this room, she was going to pack up and leave. It would break her heart, and would definitely break Dean and Cas’ too, but Y/N knew that she couldn’t handle 5 more minutes of Eileen draping herself across her ex-boyfriend.

It was a sad reality; sad that her life had come to this, sad that she had to leave it all behind, and even sadder that Sam wouldn’t miss her at all.

“It’ll be alright.” Sam mumbled.

Y/N’s eyes narrowed at him and she turned her body fully to reach the door handle. She glanced back over her shoulder and took one last look at him. She scanned up and down, remembering the nights she spent tracing every inch of his body, washing away his insecurities.

Looking into his eyes, she took a breath.

“Goodbye, Sam.”

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