#The second your fiancee says 'let's take a break from seeing each other to think about our relationship' you start having sex with another | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

billthedrake · 6 months

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HOME FOR THE HOLIDAYS

"Russ?" the voice called out as I walked through the big-box store parking lot. "Russ McAdams?"

Maybe it was the dark winter dusk or maybe I just didn't expect to see Coach Stanley, out of the classroom in his casual hoodie and jeans, but it took me a second me a second to connect the voice with the face.

Given how much I'd jerked off to fantasies about my AP History teacher back, I probably should have recognized him immediately. The guy wasn't the only dude I lusted after in high school, my body swimming in teen hormones and my head trying to make sense of it all, but I always thought he was the hottest teacher at Aurora High. 5'11" thick ex-baseball player muscle, thinning brown hair and a clean-shaven face that always seemed on the verge of a five o'clock shadow. Even the way he walked was a little bow-legged and a lot masculine.

He wasn't clean-shaven any more, instead sporting a closely trimmed beard. And he wasn't in his khakis and button down shirt now, but instead had on a puffy winter jacket and jeans, with a scarf that mostly covered a casual sweatshirt underneath.

"Coach Stanley?" I said as I realized who was walking up to me. Ed Stanley wasn't my coach, just my teacher, but all the school called him Coach Stanley or Coach S for short.

"Almost didn't recognize you," he said as he held out a gloved hand. I shook it. "Seems you've done some growing in college."

"Yeah, I guess I have," I chuckled and took his words to be a big ego pump. After I moved off to school and came out, I decided that I'd hit the gym. Hard. I was an athletic kid in high school, on the soccer and tennis teams, but I was slender, and my height made me look even leaner. But it was winter break of my junior year and I'd put on a lot of muscle since Coach Stanley last saw me.

"Well, you're looking good, Russ," Coach S said. I mean it was probably an innocent compliment, but standing a few feet apart from the guy, I got caught up in his blue eyes and bright smile for a second. All those silly adolescent puppy crushes I thought I'd outgrown came flooding back to me.

I know I blushed, but my red cheeks could probably be explained by the cold evening weather. I'd underdressed given I had only planned to pop in for a last-minute gift for my sister. "You running some errands, Coach?" I asked.

The man nodded and gave one of those trademark Coach Stanley smiles. Fuck I was gonna be jerking off thinking of him later, for sure. "I've kind of procrastinated but I'm here to pick up a tree." He gave an embarrassed shrug. "It's a lot of trouble to go through with just me, but you know, I guess it doesn't feel like Christmas without one."

I didn't know Coach Stanley's story. I mean, a few of the girls in my high school gossiped about his hot fiancee, so I think I expected him to be married by now.

"You busy shopping, Russ?" he asked. I half thought Coach would just say hello then go on his way. But I figured a teacher enjoys running into a former student. And I was a good student, I knew - academically successful and all-around "good kid."

"A last minute gift," I replied, holding up my bag. "Guess I'm a procrastinator, too, Coach," I laughed.

Stanley flashed me that bright grin, and it seemed like his eyes couldn't break contact. Fuck. "Well, I guess I better let you get on with your errands," he said. "Good running into you, Russ. Take care."

"I will," I said. "Good seeing you, too, Coach."

He paused and then added. "And if you ever want to stop by the school, say hi... I'm always around."

"Will do," I said.

We both kind of stood in the parking lot, looking at each other. I think we laughed at the same time from the awkwardness.

"All right," he finally said with a nod and turned to walk over to where the Christmas trees were set up.

He got about four paces, but I spoke up. I couldn't believe I was about to say this, but I figured if I made a fool of myself, it didn't matter. I didn't live in my hometown any more. And something about Coach's vibe made me think something was up.

"Hey Coach," I said. The man stopped, surprised, but turned around. I took a couple steps forward. "This may sounds weird," I said with a deep blush. "But if you want some help setting up your tree, I'd be glad to help out."

I could feel my heart pound, and I wanted the parking lot to swallow me, the embarrassment was coming on so strong. Thankfully, Coach Stanley's smile returned. "Yeah?"

I nodded.

He seemed like he was trying to check some emotion. "I'm sure you have better things to do, Russ," he said.

I had no inclination that Coach Stanley even thought about guys, but those words were when I knew he wanted me.

"My parents have some holiday party to go to, and I don't have any plans," I said. "I'm happy to help. Honest."

Coach paused then agreed. "All right. Maybe I can give you my address and you can meet me over there?"

We made a plan.

I went back home to drop off my shopping and to grab a quick bite. I had a quick change of clothes. I felt weirdly nervous, like I didn't know what Coach Stanley went for. It was a weird thought and unexpected I'd even be thinking this on a Saturday night before Christmas. I took off my sweats and slipped on a nice pair of jeans. A long-sleeve gray T and a layered T-shirt with my college logo on it seemed to be a nice jocky-preppy outfit and the snug size showed off my body pretty well.

"Hope you like it, Coach," I laughed in the mirror.

I went down to find some leftovers for dinner.

My dad was in the kitchen, pulling out a bottle of wine he was taking to the party. I told him I was thinking of going over to hang out with one of my friends. And maybe staying over if that was Ok.

Dad was the softer touch of my parents, but Mom probably didn't care. I was responsible, and they had a lot of me time over the holidays. "Just text us when you know your plans for sure," he said.

"Will do, Dad," I replied. "Have fun at the party."

"Be safe," he added, as went to get his coat, just as Mom came down the stairs.

They left pretty soon thereafter, and I cleaned up from my quick dinner.

By the time I got to Coach Stanley's place, I was feeling nervous, real nervous. I parked my car and walked up to the front door of the modest colonial house in a decent but not overly fancy neighborhood. I started second guessing myself. Maybe I'd been misreading the cues, but even if so I'd have some quality time with an incredibly hot man. I figured I'd just enjoy that for what it was worth.

When Coach answered the door, I was so turned on. Gone was the puffy coat and the scarf and the sweatshirt. My high school history teacher stood before me in a pair of jeans, sock-clad feet and a loose, thin cotton T-shirt of some fundraising road race. This shirt was a little loose but somehow draped perfectly over the rounded shoulder muscle and strong pecs. Even if it wasn't snug, I could tell Stanley kept his midsection flat and trim for a dude in his late 30s. I don't know why this was a major turn on, but Stanley wore a thin gold chain necklace around his corded neck.

"Glad you could make it, Russ," he greeted, his mellow tenor voice gaining a friendly edge. "Come in. I've just put the tree in the stand and was about to start on the lights."

I did feel kind of dumb. In my imagination, I'd come over and right away would be having sex with my former teachers. But here I was to help him with his tree. I took off my coat and followed him to the living room.

There were a few wrapped presents set to the side and a few family photos in frames. And there was a big bookshelf with hardbound books. But other than that it was very much a bachelor home. Sparse and clean, but not homey at all. I kind of liked it as a glimpse into Coach's personality, but it kind of felt lonely, too.

I set my coat down and followed his directions, holding the string of lights as he wrapped it around.

It was all business, but having two men at the task made it go more quickly. Next was the garland. Then there were a bunch of ornaments to put up - a couple of boxes.

"We don't need to do all of these," Coach said, handing me one.

It was a little frustrating being so close to this hunk in his own home. But it was a good kind of frustration. Sneaking looks at him. His handsome face, his serious demeanor, his hunky body. It was like every sexual thought I'd had sitting in his third period class all junior year came back to me, only it felt more powerful. Closer, more real.

At that point I wasn't expecting anything to happen. Maybe Coach was lonely at the holidays and just wanted some company. If so, I was happy to give it.

Then I felt his hand on my shoulder. "Let me just get by you a sec," he said. He reached up over my shoulder and hung an ornament in a bare spot. And just as quickly his hand left.

I wouldn't think anything of it, only two minutes later, he repeated the action. I paused and savored the grip of his hand on my shoulder as he placed the ornament.

My heart was pounding now. I waited a few more minutes, feeling this strange energy in the room. I really didn't want to misread things, but something was up. As Coach reached over and put a ball on a branch, I stepped beside him, almost behind him and put my hand on the middle of his back. Coach Stanley had one hell of a strong back, I could tell, and up close I could smell his aftershave.

"Mind if I get in here, Coach?" I asked, reaching up to the top. I had a good four inches of height on him.

As soon as I placed the ball, my eyes dropped level again and I saw those mesmerizing blue eyes. Quietly expectant.

I gently massaged that spot in his back, through the T-shirt and leaned in.

Coach's lips were soft, almost chapped, but they parted and I felt the tip of his tongue graze my own lips. As I parted them, our mouths connected fully in a kiss.

In my imagination of how this evening would go down, nothing compared to the thrill of that kiss. I was a young guy still, just 21, and I was realizing then that none of the guys I'd been with really knew how to kiss. Not like this.

Stanley's look was all serious when we finally broke for air. My heart was racing and I just sensed his was, too.

"You OK with this, Russ?" he asked softly. "I usually don't do anything like this."

I ran my fingers along the small of his back. I may not have had Coach's kissing skills, but I enjoyed being physical and handsy-flirty when I hooked up with a guy. It was something I learned from a frat boy I sorta-kinda dated and now something I consciously worked on.

Coach seemed to like it, and I could see his nostrils flare as my fingertips slid under the hem of his shirt to touch his bare flesh.

"More than OK with it, Coach," I grinned. Just being close to him I could tell how solid his body was, and that was turning me the fuck on. But I noticed Coach S wasn't making much move to touch me or feel my body. "More to the point... are you OK with it?"

He cocked me a little grin. "Yeah, Russ... it's just... part of me thinks I shouldn't be doing this."

"I'm not gonna blab to anyone, Coach," I said. "Promise." I ran my fingers up higher along his lats. Rock hard solid muscle that was more dense than bulky. I could tell the man was gonna give me new workout goals, already. "Come on... I want this so bad."

That made him smile. "I want you, too, Russ," he whispered, getting that serious look on his face again. And I was now getting my second Ed Stanley kiss, almost better than the first. And the man's hands were now on my waist, openly feeling me up as he pulled me into his body.

We made out, right in his living room, right in front of the Christmas tree, and our hands moved from gentle exploration gradually into groping. It was like we were copying each other's moves, and one-upping them.

The look on Coach S's face when he pulled back was adorable. I could see a crazy amount of lust but also the desire to fight it.

"I like to take things slow, Russ," he said as his blue eyes swept up my taller form.

"Works for me, Coach," I muttered, my voice cracking with lust. I mean, my normal MO would have been to go hard and heavy with a dude like this. But I didn't want to see the impatient young guy I really was.

He cracked a smile. "How bout some make out time in the bedroom?"

I nodded and followed him. The master bedroom was somehow even barer than the living room of Coach Stanley's house. But it smelled like Coach's aftershave and the scent hit me like pheromones as I watched the man pull the covers down and get up on the bed, still in his stocking feet and clothes.

Normally, I'd be stripping down, ready to get it on, but I followed Coach's lead and kicked off my shoes before joining him.

"Thanks for coming over, Russ," Coach said softly after a kiss.

My hands were on his chest. I was doing my very best to be a good boy and not grope the man too much but fuck he felt nice. I'd hooked up with some hot guys before, but Stanley was probably the hottest I'd scored. And the fact that I had some lingering high school fantasies added to the thrill. I was rock hard in my jeans as we lay on our sides, face to face.

"Not how I was expecting my evening to play out, Coach," I said. "This is a fantasy come true, to be honest."

He chuckled softly and ran his fingers along my flank. "It's Ed, Russ," he said. "You can call me Ed."

"All right, Ed," I said. "But I'm probably still gonna think of you as Coach."

He shook his head gently. Maybe mildly bothered by the fucking with his former student thing, but owning up to the dynamic. "Probably to be expected." Then he added, "You really better not fucking tell anyone, Russ." It was the first time I'd heard my former teacher swear, but the gruff tone was in gest, even if I knew Stanley had real anxiety about what we were doing.

"For real, Ed.... whatever happens stays between us." I took a deep breath and felt my heart pound. I was not good at doing the patient approach. "I know you wanna take it slow, Coach, but you make me so fucking horny."

That made the man laugh. "All right, buddy," he grinned. He pulled back and kind of sat up. I watched him pull his T-shirt off over his head.

"Jesus fucking Christ!" I gasped, my thought going straight from my head to my lips. Coach's body was just incredible. Meaty and thick, but also in shape, even with knotted abs. He had a lot of brown fur on his chest, swirling over his round pecs capped with thick brown-pink nipples. And to top it off that gold chain clung around his neck.

"What?" he reacted with a laugh.

"You, that's what," I said. "That body is insane." I normally didn't verbalize my reactions to men when I hooked up. Then again, normally with my hook ups both men would have gotten off by now and be getting dressed to go our own ways.

Stanley seemed pleased with my compliment. "You're looking in fine form, too, Russ... come on, show me what you got."

I felt inadequate but I wanted to get the party going, so I stripped my shirt off, and raised the ante by undoing my jeans and pulling them down over my legs.

Already, Ed's hands were on my semi-naked body, feeling me up. Seems that Mr. Take it Slow was getting horny himself.

"Damn, Russ, you're not one of those Corbin Fisher guys, are you?" he teased.

I was eating his praise and his touch, too. After I kicked off my jeans I spread my legs to show off the hardon in my boxer briefs. I wasn't porn hung, but I measured up pretty well against most guys I'd been with, and I was certainly rock hard right then.

"You watch that stuff, Coach?" I laughed.

"I won't lie, Russ. That stuff's gotten me through some pretty lonely nights." His blue eyes met mine directly, communicating not only his desire but his vulnerability. For some reason, that made my cock twitch.

"No need for porn tonight, Ed," I replied. Then with an impish smile, I added, "Unless you wanna have it on."

He shook his head with a laugh. "No. No porn." He took his hands off my biceps and reached down to undo his jeans.

I swear my breath stopped as I watched him peel them down. I swear I don't know how and why I didn't realize that Ed Stanley had gone commando. As the jeans slipped down, I saw the thick brown hair of his lower belly, then a solid erection eager to poke out.

Coach was of average length. Totally average, yet thicker than normal. His cock was girthy and beautiful and seemed to fit him.

But his attention was on me, and as he scooted up back close to me he ran his fingers along the waistband of my underwear. "May I?" he asked.

"Oh yeah," I replied. Like a kid unwrapping a present he peeled them off over my boner and then jerked them down my legs. My prick stood up and jerked in excitement.

"That's a nice tool, ya got, Russ," he growled. He stared at my cock then looked up to my face again. "You definitely could be in one of those Corbin Fisher videos." His fist wrapped around my hard meat and almost instantly his palm was smearing my pre cum down the shaft with its regular strokes.

I touched his dick, now, too, feeling like I had permission. He hissed, and I watched his face react as I did my best to adjust my touch and approach. "You into college dudes, Ed?" I asked. Maybe it was nosy or forward to ask. Coach wasn't old or anything, I'd guess mid 30s, but he seemed very much into my collegiate body.

He nodded. "If I'm honest with myself... yeah. I guess I think and wonder what if I'd done stuff back then."

I felt back for Coach S and also weirdly protective of the man. I let go of his dick and held up my arm. "Come here, Coach," I muttered.

He took the invitation and scooted into my embrace, nestling his warm furry body against mine. For a man in his early 30s, Ed Stanley was as hairy as a man in his late 40s. I wrapped my arm around his back and he held me in a similar grip. We humped our hard dicks together, slowly, but didn't really escalate the sex. Not yet. Ed just rested his head in the crook of my neck and held on to me.

"Feels nice, buddy," he said. Then, nervously, "you must think I'm a mess."

I patted his back. It was incredible how solid his lats were. "Not all, Coach... Ed..." I heard him laugh. "It bother you that I'm still calling you 'Coach'?" I asked. "Old habits and all."

Stanley pulled back. Up close his face seemed less youthful but he was even more handsome. I tried to memorize the soft lines in his rough-skinned face and the close trim of his beard. "It's probably not making me feel less like an old pervert, but it's all good, Russ."

He'd asked me to take things slow and we were just in this quiet emotional moment. Which is why I was surprised by the sudden move Coach made to roll me onto my back, with him on top of me. He was 5'11" and shorter than me but he easily weighed as much. I loved feeling every bound of his hard body on top of mine.

We kissed, and Ed was no longer doing the soft, gentle kiss. It was more the hard sexual kissing I was used to. Coming from this man, it drove me wild. Roughly he thrust into my crotch with his. I never was into frottage, and this wasn't gonna get me off. But as foreplay I fricking loved it. Feeling Coach S's athletic ex-jock body on top of mine, working up his own sexual heat to match mine as we sucked each other's tongues and then took turns plunging in and out of our mouths with them.

This whole evening had been unexpected and had played out with surprising ease. Only I realized I didn't know Coach Stanley's deal. On the apps, you know from the get go what the guy is looking for. I didn't know if Coach was a top or even if he was into fucking. For my part I was pretty vers and while anal was my favorite thing, giving or receiving, practicality mean that an oral hookup was more common.

The way Ed was putting his whole body into our intensely sexual make out made me half expect the man to kick my legs apart and ravage me. Instead he slowed his hips and paused, pulling back with a big fucking grin.

"Please tell me you suck dick, Russ," he hissed.

I chuckled. "Yeah, Coach."

That was all he needed to hear. Gone was the patient man. Instead he quickly scooted up and lined up his dripping cock to my lips. I mentally prepared myself, hoping Stanley wasn't the type to go into rough facefucking mode. I opened my lips and felt his prick press past them.

Thankfully after Coach pushed in three solid inches, he let me do the work. I didn't have a great angle or a lot of room for move my head back and forth, but that was OK. Stanley didn't need a pro blowjob, it turns out. After a minute of my awkward bobs, I felt his quads tense and his voice get real strained.

"That's it, Russ..." he hissed. His sexy masculine voice now needy. "Right fucking there, buddy.... so close... Yeah, keep sucking! Oh god, oh fuck... UNGH!"

His cum was hot and the load thick. The angle made it shoot against the roof of my mouth so it was a half second before I tasted him. He was salty and sweet and I was instantly hooked. I swallowed that ejaculation and moved my mouth back and forth, adding suction to coax out a few more jets. Other than the my sorta frat-guy boyfriend and a 20-something dude I went out with for a few months, I didn't have much relationship experience. And in my one-off hookups, my dick size meant I was more often then not being serviced orally. But damn, I loved this feeling of a man cumming in my mouth and down my throat. Particularly because it was Coach S.

He finally pulled back, a huge smile on his face. "Thank you," he muttered and patted my cheek. Then, he said, "your turn."

I watched as he quickly scooted down to get on all fours between my legs. I had been so focused on blowing him, I almost forgot how eager I was to get off myself. Coach was reminding me now, the way he licked up my boner, one side then the other.

Maybe Coach was closeted, I don't know. But the man knew how to suck cock. He had a good technique as he took me into my mouth and started working me up and and down. But the most amazing thing was his enthusiasm. Even though he'd already gotten his rocks off, the man was so clearly into this. Into sucking dick. My dick.

I watched him and enjoyed him, not overly urgent in my need to cum.

But, fuck, I felt Ed's fingers nudge my ball, and the urgency hit me. I thought of trying to hold back but I worried I'd mess up a perfectly great orgasm.

"Coach!" I hissed. "I'm gonna cum.... oh SHiT!"

I could hear Ed gulp as I pulsed my seed into his mouth. Then on my second spurt, he let out a deep, excited moan.

I leaned my head back and just enjoyed every wave of pleasure that coursed through me. I could get used to Ed Stanley's skills, for sure.

Finally, the man relinquished my prick and gently kissed up my belly and chest. I felt a little ticklish after the intense cum, which made him laugh softly.

"Thank you, Russ," he said, now raising his weight above mine, our soft dicks pressed together but our torsos not touching.

"Man... you're the one that's letting me live out my high school fantasies."

I could see him wince a little at that but he just nodded. "Well, I'm glad." He gingerly scooted off to the side, resting on the bed beside me. "I'll be honest, Russ... I don't know the etiquette in these situations."

"What do you mean, Coach?" I asked, turning toward him and running my fingers through the hair on his chest. I wanted to memorize the look and feel of this man.

He seemed shy now. "Sometimes guys seem to want to split once they get their nut. And sometimes they seem mad if I don't ask them to stay."

"I've done both, Ed," I assured him.

That seemed to relax him. "Well, you wanna stay for a bit? Maybe we can light the tree, enjoy some egg nog?"

I nodded, a smile on my face. "Yeah," I said.

That made him happy, I could tell. It seemed strange a man as hot as this could be so lonely, but I was happy to be his stand-in boyfriend or whatever for the evening.

We kissed some and then got up to get dressed again. As we padded back into his living room, I had to ask, "So... there been a lot of guys for you?" Maybe it was a sore point, but I figured if Ed wanted to some quality time, we could talk man-to-man.

He shrugged. "About ten. About half of those in the last year," he explained. "I guess I'm still figuring some stuff out."

I nodded, sympathetic. I had a different journey than Coach, but I understood some of what he was going through. "Well, I'm real glad I ran into you, Ed."

He smiled. "I'm glad too, Russ."

#drakestories

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tuiccim · 3 years

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Dimensional Pain

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count: 3363

Warnings: Angst, minor violence, fluff, implied smut.

Squares filled: Heartbreak for @star-spangled-bingo.

A/N: This is for the HBC’s @the-ss-horniest-book-club Drunk Drabbles / Divider by @firefly-graphics

Earth-616

“Everything ready for the test?” Bruce asks as he comes into the lab.

“Looks like it.” You say.

“Everything is ready. I’ve figured this thing out down to the molecular level.” Tony grins.

You roll your eyes at his overconfidence. The machine was an unknown entity that you thought may be an interstellar communication device but, truthfully, no one knew what it really did. You, Bruce, and Tony had studied each part of it in the lab and, now that you had gleaned all the information you could, the only option left was to run a test.

“Alright, let’s do this.” You say.

“The honor is all yours.” Tony grins.

You switch on the machine with 10% power and look at the readouts, “This is strange.”

“Let’s turn the power up.” Tony says as he turns the dial. “This is fascinating. I’m going to full power.”

Tony cuts the power, “Are you okay?”

“What the hell were you thinking? Have you lost your mind? We don’t know what this is!” You yell before turning to him. Your brow furrows as you take him in. Something was different but you shake it away.

“These readings are insane!” Tony exclaims. “Bruce, do you see this?”

“Look at these spikes.” Bruce’s face is alight as he goes over readings.

“Am I still alive? Hello?” You shout.

“Oh, yeah, yeah. Are you okay?” Tony asks already turning back to the computer

“Fine.” You grouse. “I’m done for the day.”

“But look at this!” Bruce looks at you but his smile fades when you look at him with a murderous gaze. “Yeah, you should, uh, take a break.” He stammers as you walk out.

Things feel strange as you wander through the hallways but still you can’t put your finger on it. You are steps from your bedroom when Bucky comes out of it and nearly collides with you.

“Hey Doll.” Bucky grins as he wraps his arms around you and pulls you to him for a kiss.

You push away from him shocked. “What are you doing? Why were you in my room?” You ask, wide-eyed.

“What are you talking about, Doll? I was just heading to find you for lunch.” Bucky says.

“Why?” You look at him surprised.

“So we could eat together.” Bucky says, “Are you okay, Doll?”

“Wh-, I, you… Why were you in my room, Bucky?”

“What’s wrong, Doll? What did I do wrong? As far as I knew, it was still our room.”

“Our room? What the hell are you talking about?” You burst through the door and look around the room. Everything is different. There is a king bed instead of your queen and all the furniture has been moved. The colors are different. You walk back out again to make sure you are in the right room and walk back in again. “What the fuck?”

“Doll?”

“Is this a prank?” You are beginning to panic. “Bucky! Is this a prank? It isn’t funny!”

“Doll, you’re starting to scare me.”

“This isn’t funny Bucky! Stop it!” You yell.

“Hey!” Tony enters the room with Bruce at his heels, “We have a few theories on what we think happened. Uh…” Tony’s eyes bounce between you and Bucky.

“Okay?” You prompt.

“We don’t think you belong here.” Bruce says.

“What does that mean?” You furrow your brows.

“We think the machine has something to do with space-time continuum.” Tony says.

“Tony, Wha… Did I go forward in time?” You look at him incredulously.

“More like sideways.” Bruce says.

“Sideways? Dimensionally?!?” You exclaim.

“Yes.” Tony looks at you with a smirk and you can see his scientific mind turning it’s wheels.

“This is a different dimension?” You ask.

“Well, let’s compare some notes and see.” Bruce says.

“Are you and Natasha together?” You look at him.

“Uh, we broke up, kinda.” Bruce says.

“Are you and Pepper married?” You turn to Tony.

“Engaged.” Tony says.

Looking at Bucky your heart hurts, “And we’re together?”

“We’re not together in your dimension?” Bucky asks.

“No. We’re just friends.”

“We’re going to have to get into that later.” Tony says and then calls for an emergency meeting of the Avengers. You move to the conference room and watch as each of your team members filter in. They were your team and they weren’t. It was utterly confusing as you watch Natasha, then Steve, Sam, Wanda, and Vision walk in.

Once everyone settles in Tony explains the situation you currently find yourself in. You spend a couple of hours going back and forth with the team about the historical and scientific differences of each of your dimensions.

“Can we reverse this?” Steve asks.

“I don’t know but Bruce and I will work on it.” Tony answers truthfully.

“This is twisted.” Natasha says.

“Yeah.” You scoff.

Bucky’s eyes zero in on your hand. The ring he had placed on your finger only a few weeks ago was gone. Seeing it missing tore at his heart. “We have to fix this.” Bucky says emphatically to Tony and Bruce.

“We know.” Tony says.

“We’re going to fix this.” Bruce says kindly.

“You damn well better,” Bucky growls.

“We’ll get her back.” Tony says.

“Preferably before the wedding.” Natasha quips.

“Wedding?” You look at Natasha for understanding.

“You and Bucky got engaged a few weeks ago.” Natasha says softly.

“We… we did?” You look at Bucky.

“Yea. I’m engaged to the other you.” Bucky turns back to Tony, “And I want my fiancee back!”

“We’ll get her back, Bucky! Until then, you’ll be confined to the building.” Tony says turning his attention to you.

“Are you serious?” You ask.

“It’s for the best.” Steve says reassuringly.

“Yeah, so is this.” You turn and punch Tony as hard as you can. Tony doubles over as Steve grabs your arms.

“HEY!” Steve yells.

“No, no, I deserved that.” Tony waves him off as he holds his face.

You pull your arms from Steve’s grip and stare down Tony and Bruce, “Let’s get to work. Now.”

Three days later, Bucky finds you in the rooftop garden. He watches you for a moment full of longing to hold you in his arms. He found this situation torturous. He was looking at you, at the face of the woman he loves and he can’t touch you. His heart twists as he watches you knowing that it was just as hard, no, harder on you. To have everything be familiar but none of it is yours. You turn to him when you hear his approach.

“You always come up here when you need to think.” He says.

“Yeah.” You smile sadly. “Will…”

“What?” Bucky asks.

“Will you tell me about us? How did we get together?” You ask.

“Are you sure you want to know, Doll?” Bucky looks at you questioningly.

“Yeah. In my world, you’re my friend but you… I… we’ve never made that leap.”

“It was the same here.” Bucky says. “We were great friends, worked together, hung out together, everything. Then after one of Tony’s parties we were all hanging out and you tripped over your heels and landed in my lap. You were laughing at yourself and then we just looked at each other. I had been in love with you as long as I had known you and that was our moment. I kissed you and you kissed me back and the team cheered like they’d been waiting for us to finally realize we were meant to be together.” Bucky smiles with tears in his eyes as he looks at you.

“I took them off.” You whisper. “I took off my heels.”

“What?” Bucky asks.

“The party. I took off my heels before I got up because they were hurting my feet. I told you good night and patted your shoulder as I walked past. I missed it. I missed our moment.” Tears cloud your eyes as you realize.

“Do you love me? Him. Your Bucky?”

You nod. “Almost since I met him.”

“What’s stopping you?” Bucky asks.

“I didn’t realize he feels that way for me.”

“Almost since he first met you. If he’s as smart as I am.” Bucky smiles at you sweetly.

“Thank you, Bucky.” You smile and reach out to hug him.

“No!”

You jump back, wide-eyed and gape at him, “I’m sorry! I’m sorry I didn’t mean-”

“It’s not you, doll. It’s me. I can’t- I can’t touch you.” Bucky says.

You nod and hug yourself, “I understand. Sorry.” Moving away quickly, you look back at him only when you reach the door. Giving him a quick smile, you go through.

Two more weeks and Bucky is nearly a mad man. Tony and Bruce avoid him like a plague and you know him seeing you is killing him. Everytime he sees you his face lights up for half a second before it falls with realization that you aren’t his. You had worked with Tony and Bruce on a solution, run scenarios, and had even recklessly tried some runs. Today, however, you rush through the compound looking for Tony and Bruce and pause as you nearly run past Bucky.

“Come with me.” You shout and run for the lab. “I have an idea!”

“Doll?” Bucky follows you.

Tony and Bruce are in the lab and stare, eyes bouncing from you to Bucky.

“We haven’t been able to recreate the experiment because we don’t know when the other me will be trying. I have an idea. Bucky, is my grandmother here named Brigid?”

“Um, yeah.” Bucky says.

“Tomorrow is St. Brigid’s Day.”

“Okay. We still need a time.” Bruce says carefully.

“She’ll try on the angelus. We’ll have three chances.” You explain.

“The angelus?” Tony raises an eyebrow.

“6, 12, and 6. The time of prayers.” You explain. “Look, it’s worth a shot, right?”

“I’ve had worse ideas.” Tony smirks.

“Many.” You grouse, narrowing your eyes at him.

“We’ll get this done.” Bruce says turning back to his computer.

“I’m going home tomorrow.” You look at Bucky, “And she’s coming home.”

---

Meanwhile on Earth-678…

“These readings are insane!” Tony exclaims. “Bruce, do you see this?”

“Look at these spikes.” Bruce’s face is alight as he goes over readings.

“Am I still alive? Hello?” You shout.

“Oh, yeah, yeah. Are you okay?” Tony asks already turning back to the computer

“Fine.” You grouse. “I’m done for the day.”

“But look at this!” Bruce looks at you but his smile fades when you look at him with a murderous gaze. “Yeah, you should, uh, take a break.” He stammers as you walk out.

Things feel strange as you wander through the hallways but still you can’t put your finger on it. You are steps from your bedroom when Bucky comes out of his old room and nearly collides with you.

“Oh, thank God.” You say as you wrap your arms around his torso and hug him to you. “Tony tried to kill me with that flipping device.”

“Uh, hey, doll.” Bucky says wrapping his arms around you awkwardly.

“Baby? What’s the matter?” You look at him concerned.

“Baby?” Bucky looks at you like you’ve lost your mind.

You let go of him and back away with your stomach in knots, “What’s the matter with you?”

“Why are you calling me baby?”

“That’s what I always call you.”

“Hey!” Tony jogs towards you with Bruce at his heels, “We have a few theories on what we think happened. Uh…” Tony’s eyes bounce between you and Bucky.

“Okay?” You prompt.

“We don’t think you belong here.” Bruce says.

“What does that mean?” You furrow your brows.

“We think the machine has something to do with space-time continuum.” Tony says.

“Tony, wha… Did I go back in time?” You look at him incredulously.

“More like sideways.” Bruce says.

“Sideways? Dimensionally?!?” You exclaim.

“Yes.” Tony looks at you with a smirk and you can see his scientific mind turning it’s wheels.

“This is a different dimension?” You ask.

“Well, let’s compare some notes and see.” Bruce says.

“Are you and Natasha broken up?” You look at him.

“No, we’re still together.” Bruce says.

“Are you and Pepper engaged?” You turn to Tony.

“Married.” Tony says.

Looking at Bucky your heart hurts, “And we’re not together?”

“We’re together in your dimension?” Bucky asks.

“Uh, yeah.” You hold up your left hand showing your engagement ring.

“We’re engaged?” Bucky’s eyes grow wide.

“Yeah.” You say softly.

“But you... I… how?.” Bucky says.

“We’re going to have to get into that later.” Tony says and then calls for an emergency meeting of the Avengers. You moved to the conference room and watched as each of your teammates filters in. They were your team and they weren’t. It is utterly confusing as you watch Natasha, Steve, Sam, Wanda, and Vision walk in.

“Can we reverse this?” Steve asks.

“I don’t know but Bruce and I will work on it.” Tony answers truthfully.

“You keep twisting your engagement ring.” Natasha says.

“Uh, yeah. Nervous habit.” You say.

Bucky’s eyes zero in on the ring on your finger remembering your earlier conversation before his eyes find yours.

“Who are you engaged to?” Natasha asks.

“Uh… who am I with in this dimension?” You look at Natasha.

“You’re single here. So…?” Natasha raises an eyebrow.

“Um, I’m engaged to Bucky.” You look at him as you say it.

“I knew it.” Natasha smirks.

“What?” Bucky looks at Natasha.

“Oh, come on, you’ve been pining for her forever.” Natasha giggles.

“Nat!” Bucky exclaims.

“We did pine for a while.” You smirk and then your face falls realizing even more now that, as familiar as your surroundings are, this isn’t home. This isn’t your Bucky and this isn’t your family.

“We’re going to fix this.” Bruce says kindly.

“Until then, you’ll be confined to the building.” Tony says.

“Are you serious?” You ask.

“It’s for the best.” Steve says reassuringly.

“Yeah, so is this.” You turn and punch Tony as hard as you can. Tony doubles over as Steve grabs your arms.

“HEY!” Steve yells.

“No, no, I deserved that.” Tony waves him off as he holds his face.

You pull your arms from Steve’s grip, “I’ll be in my room. Or what I assume is my room.”

You stand in the middle of the room that is this dimension’s yours. It’s the same as it was before you and Bucky moved in together. Your heart ached. You needed comfort desperately but the person who comforted you the most was a dimension away and this Bucky was still just your friend. You stare around the room and wrap your arms around yourself. Your mind raced and you decided to throw yourself into the only other thing that could possibly help at this point.

“FRIDAY, tell Tony and Bruce to get back to the lab. Now.”

---

Three days later. This was torture Bucky thought to himself as he made his way to your room. He had finally decided to tell you how he felt and now this. He wanted to be with you so badly, but you aren't his. Or you are his but not in this dimension. So, does that mean you feel the same way about him? How different are the dimensions?

He knocks softly on your door and stands frozen for a minute when you open it. Longing is thick between you.

“Hey.” You break the silence.

“Hey, Doll. I mean… is it okay for me to call you doll?”

“Yeah. It’s what you’ve always called me. It’s... comforting. I’m sorry. This is insane. I’m going to lose my mind. I need you but I can’t have you because you aren’t mine. I… I…” You bury your head in your hands.

“Come sit down, Doll.” Bucky guides you to the couch.

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. You’re okay. This is all very strange for you.”

“Yeah.” You nod.

“Will you tell me? Tell me about your world.”

“How about I tell you about what you really want to know?”

“What’s that?” Bucky smiles.

“Us.”

---

2 weeks later

Bucky watches you from across the dinner table. You were drawn and had lost weight. The failed experiments had depressed you and Bucky ached for you. He wanted to hold you, to comfort you, but he couldn’t. You weren’t his to touch. Any justifications he could come up with were empty. He finds you in your room afterwards.

“Hey Doll. You okay?” Bucky asks.

You close your eyes. The pain at looking at him and being unable to touch him at this point is unbearable. It was as if there was a magnet pulling the two of you together and the only thing keeping you apart was the understanding that you weren’t you. Not the right you.

Two weeks of this and your brain still hurt. Everything was familiar and foreign. Bucky was the best and worst part of it. At least you had part of him but at the same time it was torture not to have all of him.

“B-Bucky. Will you hold me? Please? Just hold me. Nothing else. Please.”

“Is that a good idea, doll?”

“No but I need it.”

Bucky settles onto your couch and you sit in his lap, wrapping your arms around him and sobbing. After a while, you pull a little away. “Thank you. I miss my Bucky. I want to go home.”

“I know, doll. I know. Go to bed. Things will look better tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow. February 1. February 1st! Saint Brigid’s Day! I have to find Tony. FRIDAY! Tell Tony and Bruce to meet me in the lab. Now!”

“Doll, what are you talking about?” Bucky runs after you.

“I have the answer. I’m going home!” You shout.

The next day you stood ready at 5:59 am for the first try. Tony had complained about the early hour until you silenced him with a look and fisted hand. Bucky and Bruce stood across the room watching the computer with the rest of the team.

“If this works, thank you all. It’s been interesting knowing you.” You smile at them. “And, Bucky, she loves you. Don’t waste anymore time.”

Bucky grins at you and nods. The clock changes to 6 and you and Tony begin. Everything repeats the same as last time until the flash of light engulfs you again. Once it dissipates, you look around hopefully.

“Doll?” Bucky asks.

You stare at him for a moment before turning to Tony, “Married or engaged?”

“Married.” Tony says carefully.

You burst into tears and grin, “It worked! It worked!”

“Doll!” You are picked up off of your feet and wrap your arms around his neck.

When he sets you down, you look up at him, “Did we miss our moment?”

“No, Doll, no. This is our moment.” Bucky says before kissing you for the first time.

---

Earth-616

“If this works, thank you all. It’s been interesting knowing you.” You smile at them.

“Find your moment, doll.” Bucky grins at you and you nod at him smiling. The clock changes to 6 and you and Tony begin. Everything repeats the same as last time until the flash of light engulfs you again. Once it dissipates, you look around hopefully.

“Doll?” Bucky asks.

You stare at him for a moment before turning to Tony, “Married or engaged?”

“Engaged.” Tony says carefully.

You burst into tears and run to Bucky’s arms. He picks you up and walks out of the lab with you. Passion and desperation overtake you both and you don’t even make it to the bed. You end up making love on the floor of your room. Kisses, thrusts, and moans as you finally make it home, your real home.

Masterlist

Permanent: @badassbaker @thefridgeismybestie @strangersstranger @cherthegoddess @sherlocksmanwatson @cap-n-stuff @finleyjayne @caplanreads @connie326 @daydreamerinadazedworld @bugsbucky @chrisevanscardigan @harrysthiccthighss @palaiasaurus64 @rebekahdawkins @tllynn15 @learisa @jelly-fishy-babie @fistmebuckyskywalker @nerdy-bookworm-1998 @liebs82 @stuckyslutt @a-really-bi-girl @saiyanprincessswanie @baddie-barnes @aikeia @paleo-runaway @marvelgirl7 @starlightcrystalline @xxloki81xx @kcd15 @slytherinambitious @sallycanwait68 @slytherdorxmd @fangirlforever2412 @rainbowkisses31 @whisperlullaby @thejemersoninferno @thehumanistsdiary @supraveng @dispatchvampire @juenenfeu @sxbby-barnes @allonszassbutt @y-napotat @is-it-madness @harold231 @buckysbaby32 @purselover2 @ene-rene @chrisevansbaby @mrsbarnes-rogers @sarahp879 @rosesanchez12298806 @xxpapasfritasxx @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @softie-socks @bestofbucky @bella-bear03 @randomfandompenguin @jjsoccer11 @hiddles-rose @courtneychicken @prbykt @awaywithtime @automatic-tragedy @ximebebx @magnoliamermaid @milkymil-k @get-me-some-chai-bitch @freckleblaze @ofatabuna @angrythingstarlight @unknownmystery22 @buckysnumberonegirl @buckyfan12

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alcinadimitrescuwu · 3 years

Text

The Night Before (An Alcina x Reader Fanfic)

Warnings: NSFW

You are trying to go about your daily tasks in Castle Dimitrescu but are finding it very hard to focus. It could be the fact that spring has finally arrived in Romania, the birds chirping, the sun beaming down from the heavens, the snow finally melting away to make way for new life teeming from the earth.

It could also be the fact that your wedding to Alcina Dimitrescu, the love of your life and the Lady of the Castle is tomorrow.

The housekeeper turns in your direction and gives you a pointed look. “Are you going to stand there all day away with the fairies, dearie, or are you going to polish those candelabras like I asked?”

You immediately snap back to reality. “Of course! Sorry, Mrs. Fischer.”

Mrs. Fischer shakes her head, clucking to herself. “Tomorrow you may be the Lady Consort, but today you are still a maid and you have your duties to perform.” She inspects you over the half-moon spectacles perched over her nose. “Now I expect you to polish those candelabras until they sparkle!”

“Right away, Mrs. Fischer.” You turn and set to work on your polishing.

“Oh, and Y/N?” Mrs. Fischer calls over her shoulder.

“Yes, Mrs. Fischer?”

She gives you a conspiratorial wink. “Congratulations, dearie.”

You can’t help but be shocked. Mrs. Fischer never gave out compliments or congratulations freely. You only knew you were doing a job correctly if she wasn't constantly checking up on you to make sure you didn’t mess anything up. You start to get emotional in spite of yourself. You may have started out working at Castle Dimitrescu as extra income for your aging parents, but there had always been something satisfying about taking care of a large house. You didn’t even mind the extra hours that you put in saving up for your engagement ring to Alcina, which had turned even more beautiful than you could have imagined.

Alcina had put her foot down about you staying on in your job once the two of you got married, however. “Darling, after our vows, you’ll be a part of this house. Your place will be with our family, not working for it,” she had said, taking your chin in her hand and stroking your cheek.

You finally agreed and she smiled indulgently at you as you asked to work just one last day, for old time’s sake. “Of course, draga mea,” she said, pressing a kiss to the back of your hand. “If that is what you wish.”

A sudden crash breaks you from your reverie and you smile as you see one of the parlor maids, Constanza, making her way over to you with a sheepish grin on her face after picking up the tray she had dropped on the floor. Constanza was a lovely young woman with auburn hair and blue eyes, perfect for a parlor maid. Unfortunately, she was also very accident-prone. She finally comes to a stop in front of you with a silver tray. On the tray is a single envelope sealed in wax with the Dimitrescu family crest.

“Good morning Y/N!” Constanza says brightly. Then thinking better of it she tries, “Er, good morning Miss -no, Lady Consort- wait you’re not Lady Consort yet-”

You stop her before she can continue her babbling and put a placating hand on her arm. “Constanza, you’ve been working here as long as I have. You can still be familiar with me if you want to.”

Constanza breathes a sigh of relief and breaks out into a grin. “So the big day’s tomorrow! Are you excited?”

Yes, you were excited. And nervous. And terrified as all hell. But you give her a smile as you say, “Yes, Connie I am. Alcina and I have been waiting for this day a long time.” It still felt weird to say Alcina’s given name out loud and not in private like when you were first courting.

Then your attention turns to the sealed envelope on the tray Constanza is holding. “Is that for me?” you prompt.

Constanza’s face suddenly turns a lovely shade of puce and her blue eyes grow wide behind their spectacles. “Er- yes, the Lady herself gave it to me with, er, very specific instructions to tell you to not look at it until you’re alone in your room. At night. She said she would give you a call when she wants you to open it.”

You feel your own cheeks start to burn as you take the envelope off the tray. “Thank you, Constanza, I’ll just take this back to my room for now.”

Constanza gives you a nod and turns to leave. Suddenly she turns around and gives you a brief curtsy. You suddenly notice all the other servants of the house staring at you and you feel a pang of sadness as you realize you won’t be able to interact with them as freely as you normally could. You’ll be in your own separate worlds.

Without a word you head back to your room, the envelope clutched in your hand. Night cannot come soon enough.

***

After what seems like eons, night has finally fallen on House Dimitrescu. You’re alone in your bedroom pacing back and forth like a caged animal. You’re not used to sleeping alone as for the past couple of months you had been sharing your bed with Alcina in her bedchambers. However, Alcina’s daughters- no, your daughters too, soon- had insisted that it would be bad luck for the two of you to see each other before the wedding. It had taken you aback as you hadn’t considered the girls to be traditional, but they were insistent and after some protesting, Alcina had finally relented.

Still it wasn’t easy. You hadn’t seen Alcina all day since you had left her side this morning. You had heard her talking with the Duke outside earlier discussing last minute wedding arrangements, her elegant velvety voice carrying through the entrance hall. You had longed to run over and put your arms around her, burying your face in the curve of her hip, but you held yourself back out of respect for your future daughters’ wishes.

The phone begins to ring loudly in your bedroom and with your heart already pounding, you pick it up off the hook and hold the receiver to your ear. “Yes?”

“Draga mea?” Your heart skips a beat as you hear your fiancee's voice on the other line. “Is that you?”

“Yes,” you say, holding the receiver closer to your ear.

“Did you receive the envelope I addressed to you this morning?”

“Yes,” you say. The envelope is on a nearby table with your name on it in Alcina’s beautiful cursive handwriting with a letter opener nearby, ready for opening. “Can I open it now?”

“Not so fast, pet,” Alcina’s voice takes on a teasing quality. “You didn’t look at the contents inside did you?”

“No.” But you were certainly tempted throughout the day to sneak a peek. You held firm, though, knowing that even after all the waiting it would be worth it.

“Good girl,” Alcina purrs on the other line. “You’ve been so very patient and that ought to be rewarded. But first, tell me, what are you wearing right now?”

Immediately you wished you had put on sexier clothes than just your nightgown. Oh well. You have to deal with what you got. “Just my nightgown. Nothing fancy, I’m afraid.”

“Oh? Is it the one with the ribbon in the front?”

“Yes,” you say looking down at your nightgown. There is indeed a ribbon in the front. You remember when it’s unfastened that it reveals more of your cleavage. Your outfit choice might not have been so bad after all.

You can tell that Alcina is recalling the exact same thing as she says, “Loosen up the ribbon for me, dear, would you?”

You loosen up the ribbon and the nightgown slips off your shoulders slightly. You’re finding breathing normally difficult. You feel a slight pinch as you feel your nipples grow hard at the sound of Alcina’s husky voice.

Alcina chuckles. “All right, dear, I’ll stop torturing you. You may open the envelope now.”

You practically lunge over to the table to slice open the envelope. Inside are a bunch of photographs taken with a vintage style camera. As you take out the first one you see that Alcina is featured on it and you suspect that the rest all show her as well.

“Now, pet,” Alcina purrs. “Tell me exactly what you see in the first picture.”

You hold the picture in your hand to the light to get a better look. “You’re sitting in front of your mirror. Your hair is down and your hat is off. You’re, um, wearing a black peignoir and brushing your hair. It’s all, uh, very tasteful.”

Alcina lets out a laugh like tinkling bells. “Oh, rest assured, darling, the rest of the pictures will become progressively less tasteful.”

Your mouth runs dry and you feel your palms have grown sweaty. You wipe them on your nightgown before continuing.

You take out the second picture. “Just like before, pet. Describe it to me and leave no detail out.”

You clear your throat. “You’re standing before the window and smoking. You’ve cast off your peignoir and are wearing a red and black lingerie set. The bustier is black and your garter is clipped to red stockings, the exact shade of your lipstick.” You swallow before continuing. “You look stunning.”

She lets out a girlish giggle at that. “Thank you, darling. Speaking of garters, how about you unhook yours?”

With shaking hands you unhook your garter belt and peel down your stockings. You push the skirt of your nightgown up a little bit, but you know to wait until Alcina gives you further instructions.

Onto the next one then. You take it out and you suddenly find your mouth moving but no words coming out.

“Dearest?” Alcina prompts. “The next photo?”

“Um,” you stammer. “Your back is turned to the camera now and er, the back is very um, sheer.” The back indeed is very sheer with only a thin layer of lace covering the curve of her hips. You feel your core growing hot with desire. You feel your arousal drip down your bare leg.

“You sound a tad overwhelmed, darling,” Alcina purrs. “If you need to take some time for yourself you may do so now.”

Now that she had given you express permission you glide your hand up your skirt and slip it into your already dripping cunt. You let out a soft gasp as you feel your fingers move inside you. It’s not the same feeling as when Alcina’s fingers are inside you, but at this point anything will do. You can hardly wait for your wedding night. You try to maintain the pace she usually uses.

“There, pet,” Alcina is panting now too on the other line. “Just like that. Now the next picture, please.”

Alcina’s moans from the other line are driving you to distraction but you hold the phone against your shoulder while you use the other hand that is not in your core to pick up the next photo.

“You know what to do, now, draga mea,” Alcina gasps out.

The last photo nearly takes you out. You feel your climax building as you describe it to Alcina. She is sitting at the foot of the bed, her lingerie set on the floor, her legs open. You take in her full breasts and the soft black down that covers her nethers. One of her arms is extended and you see her muscles rippling in her shoulders as she beckons you teasingly to the bed.

You cry out her name as you orgasm and you lean your head against the table, spent. “Good girl,” Alcina purrs, still riding out her own climax. “That was but a foretaste of what our wedding night will be. I do hope you’re prepared, dear.”

“Yes,” you practically squeak.

“Good to hear,” Alcina chortles. “Well, I suppose we ought to get our rest before tomorrow. I’ll see you in the morning, my bride.”

You blush scarlet at Alcina calling you her bride. You could definitely get used to that. You have something prepared too. “Alcina?”

“Yes, my dear?”

“Te iubesc, draga mea.”

You can almost see Alcina’s beautiful face break out into a grin, her eyes crinkling in the corners, cheeks dimpling. “Your pronunciation has much improved, dearest. Very well done. And I love you too, darling. Noapte bună.”

You fasten back up your nightgown and head over to the bed. You are not the least bit surprised when you find you can’t sleep. There is simply so much to be excited about.

#re8 village #lady alcina dimitrescu #alcina dimitrescu #alcina x reader #alcina x maiden #lady dimitrescu x reader #lady dimitrescu x female reader #alcina x female reader #lady dimitrescu fanfic #re8 fanfic #re8 fanfiction

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akaashisupremacy · 3 years

Text

A Little in Love

Summary: Having broken off your engagement for an arranged marriage with him, your relationship is in shreds. As you and Gojo begin as friends again, he wonders if he ever fell out of love for you. Has he?

Notes: Gojo Satoru is good-looking, all powerful and beyond good at his job. I’ve always wanted to explore something he struggles with

Gojo Satoru x reader

Multi-fandom Masterlist || HQ Masterlist || Ao3 version

Genre: ANGST AND PINING, exes to friends to ??, commitment issues lol (wc: 1.3k) tw: mention of blood, infedelity-ish

“Are you sure you’re not in love with them?”

That question wipes the smile off Gojo Satorou’s face.

Tonight’s dinner was unexpected. You ran into Shoko Ieri, Jujutsu Kaisen’s resident doctor and Gojo Satoru just as your work day ended. One thing led to another and the three of you ended up in a soba place not too far from Jujutsu Tech. When you excused yourself to use the washroom Ieri-san grabs the chance to ask the burning question on her mind.

“So what’s the answer? You’re awfully quiet.”

“We’re not engaged anymore. That ship has sailed.” he waves his hand dismissively.

Ieri rolls her eyes. All throughout dinner, Gojo was teasing you, offering you food, playing light pranks at you just like he was when you were teenagers. The way he looked at you was enough to tick any off about how he feels.

She retorts, “You can try again now that you’re adults. You’re allowed to make a go at a love match.”

Gojo’s relationship with you is…complicated. You two were arranged to be married when you were children, but had broken up as teenagers.

Gojo looks contemplative, his hands clasped together.

“I’ve thought about it.” he sighs, “And I think about it every time we meet, but—I don’t think I’m the type to commit and they need a commitment type. It’s not a match.” Ieri scowls on your behalf.

During your time at Jujutsu Tech, he simultaneously wanted to give your relationship a shot but hated the restrictions set on him. In the end, it was all too much. Both of you begged your families to break off the engagement.

Your teenage years with him were confusing. Were you really in love or those feelings fabricated by the arranged marriage? If the marriage wasn’t a love match anyway, why did it hurt to see Gojo flirt with someone else?

Gojo remembered one of your early confrontations when you were 16 and he was 17.

“It’s difficult to be engaged to you.” you expressed, exasperated.

When you started school at Jujutsu Tech however, something changed. Gojo didn’t want to be seen around you. He was always flirting with others behind your back. You can’t even have a proper conversation with him alone.

During your second year, you finally stood up to him.

“No, it’s not.” he rolled his eyes, “You don’t even have to pretend that you like me.”

It worried you that he definitely couldn’t be faithful and it hurt you that he couldn’t even spare time to properly talk with you.

You sighed and looked left and right. It’s had been ten minutes. You were still standing outside his dorm room and he has not intention of letting you in.

“It’s not about that!” you exclaimed, annoyed, “I know you don’t like being engaged to me, which is fine—“

“It doesn’t sound fine,” he snorts, crossing his arms. He tries to drown the sound of your voice from the surrounding cicadas.

“—if you weren’t such an asshole,” you continued, “But can you at least treat me with more respect. Everybody knows we’re engaged. Neither of us want to be in arranged marriage so all I’m begging you to do is to —“

He shrugs, “No promises.”

He could see anger light beneath your eyes. Out of the darkness of the night, a silver flicker brushes by his side. You were seething, despite being barely illuminated by the light of the corridor bulbs.

You had drawn out a dagger at him. You! His kind, patient fiancee. It happened so fast he almost didn’t dodge.

“I missed on purpose. Don’t you get complacent.” you muttered, turning away.

Gojo was surprised to see tears running down your face. You’ve never looked so upset. It catches him off guard.

“I’m sorry,” was all he had to utter. He wasn’t even sure you heard him because you had already begun walking away. You had drawn the blade, but in reality it was you that was hurting and he the trespasser.

He shakes his head at Ieri and continues, “I don’t want to hurt them again. It was bad enough when our engagement fell apart.”

He didn’t mean to hurt you then of course. It was harsh to expect commitment out of a teenager who wasn’t ready, but you were still in pain.

Ieri sizes him up in the dim lighting of the diner. Gojo likes to be in control. He likes to be the one to set traps. It’s interesting to see him be the captive for once.

“You haven’t answered my question.” she presses.

Gojo’s fingers tense up.he gives in just a bit, “I’ll always be a little in love with them. Maybe because I was obligated to for so long.”

“And that’s not enough though, because they deserve more” he quickly adds.

“Can’t you change? Sounds like you’re afraid to try.” she sighs.

Gojo is quiet once again.

“Don’t wait for them to be in love with someone else before you realize that you want to be with them. I’d hate for you to be too late.” she warns, glancing towards you as you walk back to the table.

He looks away from Ieri. You sit back down in front of him.

He feels his heart swell and hurt at the same time. You’ve always represented a jumble of contradictions for him: someone to love and someone who represents traditions he hates.

“Did I miss something?” you ask, sensing the tension.

“No, nothing.” he denies, his voice purposely lightening to cover his mood.

“Well, why does everyone look so serious?” you perkily ask.

Gojo briefly glances at you. His shoulders relax and he sits back into his seat. After all these years, it’s still so easy to be swayed by your bright eyes.

“I was just about to call for another drink.” Ieri clears her throat.

“Me, too.” he adds.

You look at him carefully, a tinge of worry in your eyes. You don’t say anything though. Not now. This is between you and him. It’s a matter outside of your friendship with Ieri.

“You can have my drink.” you offer to him, eyes locked onto his.

Sensing your stare, he turns back at you, glad that his bandages cover his vulnerability. He’s not sure he can take it if you saw how deeply conflicted he was about his feelings. As he continues to look, recognition dawns on him.

In another universe, you could be married right now. You’d be having dinner, just the two of you, sitting across each other like this. In another world, maybe you wouldn’t have known each other at all. This moment feels like purgatory. He’s somewhat in love, just a little and you’re not his in a way that feels real.

You push your drink into his hands. Ieri looks away to give you a semblance of privacy. Gojo finally takes the drink.

It feels strange for the man who has everything, to know he only has a little bit of you.

------------------------------------------------------------

General taglist: @itstheee-ha-chan@kaizumi@holaaaf@glxar@francxsca

Series Taglist: @kageyamakock @gucci-froggy @cherryonigiri

I wrote this as a follow up for another Gojo x reader fic who used to be engaged. Check it here. This is 2/4 so let me know if you’d like to be tagged in the rest of the releases! 😊

Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3 || Part 4 || Part 5 || Part 6 || Part 7 || Part 8

#gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #gojo satoru x y/n #gojo satoru x gender neutral reader #jjk gojo #gojo satoru x reader #jjk x gender neutral reader #jjk x reader #jjk x y/n #jjk x you #satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo x you #satoru gojo x y/n #gojo angst #jjk angst #jjk scenarios #jjk imagines

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shah-writes · 3 years

Text

an artificially intelligent curse

so i read this article about a man who uses AI to speak with his dead fiancee and i simply cannot stop thinking about it. there’s no MCD in this! but you can find my thoughts at the bottom.

tldr; think AI + Inception + Drarry

“Draco’s dying.”

Ron is Harry’s best friend in the whole world but sometimes he can be a bit daft.

“No, he’s not,” Harry replies serenely. He’s not. Draco is in the kitchen, wearing the light blue sweater Harry gave him last Christmas and a rosy flush Harry gave him two minutes ago.

“They think you can help him.” Ron is staring at a point above Harry’s shoulder. Harry shifts slightly to follow Ron’s gaze and finds Draco standing there, levitating three steaming mugs of tea onto the table.

Except. Except, Draco doesn’t drink tea. He drinks cheap, Instant coffee, a consequence of his time spent working in America. Harry teases him about it all the time.

There’s a slight thud as two mugs hit the table, the third has vanished.

Draco settles into a chair. “No tea for me,” he says playfully. There’s a small Statue of Liberty trinket on the bookshelf behind Ron. Harry relaxes.

“Ron was just telling me a story,” Harry shares.

Draco smiles and leans forward expectantly on the table. It’s a set they thrifted last weekend: one Walnut table and four Cherry chairs— one ingredient away from a meal, Draco had joked.

“It’s a curse, Harry. ‘Mione figured it out. It’s preying on your memories.”

Harry gives Ron a conciliatory nod and reaches out to brush a dark curl away from Draco’s forehead. Draco has platinum hair, he remembers, as an afterthought.

The strands shift to a blinding white immediately. Or were they always white? They must have been, Draco would never dye his hair.

“It’s you, Harry. You’re teaching it how to trap you.”

Harry reluctantly turns back toward Ron.

“What makes us human?” Ron asks. “Harry, I know you can hear me, you just have to listen. What makes us human?”

“I… I don’t know,” Harry mumbles.

“Instinct, Harry. Emotion and instinct.”

Ron is sitting on a cushioned armchair and Harry wonders absently where he got it. All Harry has are four Cherry chairs. He nearly expects to see Ron’s chair transform into dark wood. It doesn’t.

“You can’t teach humanity,” Ron continues. “You can teach a Thing how to learn, how to adapt. You can force it to consume everything around it until it knows right from wrong. Until it becomes as intelligent as any of us, but you can never teach it instinct. Look around, Harry, use your instinct.”

There’s a portrait on the wall. Four people. Harry and Draco. An older woman with almond-shaped green eyes and freckles over her nose; an older man with dark skin and Harry’s own unruly hair.

“Hermione’s calling it an AI-Curse. Artificial Intelligence. It sweeps through your mind quickly and puts together a scenario where you feel comfortable. It’ll get things wrong, of course. It doesn’t know which memories are relevant, which are wrong, which are just daydreams. That’s where you come in. You tell It when it’s wrong and you reward It when it’s right.”

Draco’s sitting still at the table. Harry beckons him over.

“I love that picture of us,” Draco says happily, laying his head on Harry’s shoulder.

“What is this?”

“Us and your parents, silly.”

“Draco, my parents are dead. They’ve been dead for 27 years.”

Draco blinks. “I know. Do you miss them?”

Harry snaps back to the portrait. His parents have disintegrated out of the frame.

Ron’s still sitting at the table in his armchair. “Malfoy’s condition is deteriorating. He’s succumbing to the curse. Once he’s given up all of his memories, he’ll die trapped in a fake world of his own design.”

“Stop,” Harry says; and then, “STOP,” louder, facing Ron. Ron doesn’t hear him. Because… because Ron’s not here. Ron and his stubborn, incongruous armchair aren’t here. Harry can hear the humming of Mungo’s Stasis charms echoing somewhere in his mind, the quiet bustle of the hallway, the frantic whispering.

The only person here is Draco. Draco, who barely ever comes over to Harry’s flat. Draco, who flirts with him over lunches but flinches away when Harry reaches out to sweep his blonde hair off his forehead.

There’s a rosy flush on Draco’s cheeks except Harry’s not the one that gave it to him. Harry’s never kissed Draco; they’re partners and friends and maybe something that transcends description, but not this. Not yet.

“Draco, why are you here?”

“What do you mean?” Draco’s smiling at him, eyes soft. It’s a daydream. Harry swallows down the grief of the realization.

“We’re not dating, we’re not anything, why are you in my flat?”

Draco freezes.

“No, no, no, please, no,” Harry’s grasping at him desperately but there’s nothing there. Just pixels floating away from each other, dissolving into the air.

“NO!” Harry’s kneeling, face hidden in his hands. “No, I can’t do this alone, I can’t, come back… please come back.” He knows it’s impossible; you can’t teach humanity, Ron had said. AI doesn’t understand emotions, won’t bring him back now that it knows he doesn’t belong.

“They want to Obliviate you,” Ron continues, speaking at Harry’s bedside at Mungo’s, imitated in Harry’s subconscious.

“What?” Harry turns and scrambles toward Ron.

“Hermione had a near conniption,” he chuckles. “But it’s the logical solution. The curse absorbs everything you show it and gives it back to you, better and smarter. If there’s no data for it to learn from, then you’re free.”

Harry collapses into the chair beside Ron, mind whirling. The room twists around them. They’re in the Gryffindor Common Room now, Ginny and Hermione near the fireplace, no more Walnut table and Cherry chairs. Except, Molly Weasley’s washing dishes in the corner. No.

Obediently, Molly Weasley pops away. And then, the room is shifting again.

“Without memories, the curse will implode into the simplest version of itself: a basic mind trap. Straightforward, simple. The kind that Aurors learn in training.”

“JUST TELL ME WHAT TO DO, RON,” Harry bellows.

The Burrow. Except, there are two Georges. No. The room glitches and restarts.

“They won’t try Obliviation with Malfoy. Healers think it’s too late, that he’s too weak even to break out of the simplest version.”

The office and Draco… he’s back. He’s back and alive and leaning back in his chair, feet propped up on his desk, inspecting a takeout box. Yes.

The room fills in further, encouraged. Case files pile up on Harry’s desk; Draco’s Statue of Liberty trinket is back, in the right place this time; an evidence board on the wall, newspaper clippings, Draco’s neat, white notes, Harry’s scrawl.

“It’s unethical to deprive him of his memories now.” Ron says.

Harry inspects the board closely. 7 people dead over 2 months. Inconsistencies in their deaths, but clearly perpetrated by the same actor. A pale blue envelope mailed to each victim. It explodes within minutes of delivery, enveloping its target into a coma.

Seemingly random victims. A middle-aged mother, an elderly school teacher, a teenager days away from his 15th birthday. Muggles, Purebloods, Half-Bloods, and a Squib. Varying races, different financials.

“Weird, isn’t it?” Draco’s staring at him. “Almost as if they chose the most diverse targets on purpose.”

Harry turns to him slowly, “Why?”

Draco tosses him an egg roll and shrugs, “Make sure we can’t trace them?” Draco joins him at the board, looks over the victim list.

The first had taken one month to die, slowly incapacitated. The second had taken only half that time, he had perished within two weeks. Faster and faster after that. The latest victim, a five-year old girl, was gone in three days.

It was the first time, in five years of working together, that Harry saw Draco break down. Crouched outside her Mungo’s room, shivering, quiet; Harry had pulled him up and deposited him home. He came back to work two days later, his clenched jaw and fierce determination lodging itself into Harry’s heart.

Draco’s written a note under her picture: The curse is learning.

“What is this?”

“You didn’t see the Mungo’s report? They think it’s targeting memories. With each iteration, it’s getting faster and killing quicker. Hermione was telling me about this thing…”

“Artificial Intelligence.”

“Exactly,” Draco smiles, surprised, “it absorbs huge amounts of data until it learns how to adapt to every condition.”

“The diverse victims— someone is teaching it how to learn, adapt to every condition,” Harry repeats. Draco’s standing near his desk again, illuminated by the soft light of his lamp. Soft blonde locks fall into his eyes as he looks over a case file. Harry wonders if this version will flinch away if he reaches out. Wonders if the curse has learned this detail yet. He hopes it hasn’t.

“They’re going to let him die in his own fake world. A peaceful death, they called it.” Ron is still sitting in the corner of the office, in a cushioned armchair.

Harry shakes his head, silently, frantically. There’s a pale blue envelope on Draco’s desk.

“Draco, what is that?”

Draco looks at the envelope and back at Harry, nonchalant. Then, his face morphs into fear, mirroring Harry’s own expression. It’s the curse, it’s learning. Harry’s teaching it.

“The curse was targeting Malfoy. You were hit since you were in such close proximity, but it's a much weaker variant. You can make it out, Harry. You can help Malfoy navigate out.” Ron says from his corner.

“Harry,” Draco whispers. “What do I do?”

Harry strides forward, takes Draco’s shoulders in his hands. This is real now; Harry remembers this morning. “I’ll come for you, okay? We know what it is now, we’ll figure out how to stop it. Draco, you’ll be fine.”

Draco’s falling now. His eyes are shut, he’s laying on the floor, head tilted toward Harry.

Draco’s dying.

“RON, WHAT DO I DO? TELL ME WHAT TO DO!”

Ron’s not in his corner anymore. He’s gone, and so is his armchair, and it’s just Harry alone, in his office, with Draco’s body.

The room is still filling up around him. Draco’s coffee mug, steaming on his desk. Blank walls slowly plastered over with Auror-standard tan wallpaper. Except. Except, Severus Snape is standing over Draco.

Harry steps closer cautiously, willful not to let the curse know that Snape doesn’t belong.

“The headmaster has asked me to teach you Occlumency. I can only hope that you prove more adept at it than Potions,” Snape says, looking up at Harry with dark, hooded eyes.

A memory, then. Out of place, but relevant. Harry remembers Ron’s words: The curse doesn’t know which memories are relevant. It’s guessing, responding to Harry’s needs. It’s helping.

“Right. You’re right.” Harry says, loud. Snape solidifies, robes saturating darker.

“Rid your mind of all emotion,” Snape continues. “Empty it, make it blank and calm.”

“Empty it,” Harry whispers. He takes a last look at Draco and closes his eyes.

He opens them to a plain white room. Nothing on the walls, the floor. Nothing, except a door. A simple mind trap. Harry opens the door.

i just love the idea that the curse helps him get out. since AI is always developed in service to others, i like the idea that even weaponized as a curse, it would still adapt to the needs of its target and help them in any way possible. idk pals!!!! i just have a lot of thoughts about AI, come scream with me about it!!!!!!!

also, if you haven’t already, i would highly recommend reading the article this is based off-- it is fascinating.

#shah-writes #i pored through OotP for the first time in a decade for the Snape quotes lmao #drarry fic #drarry #harry potter #draco malfoy #ron weasley

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bbrandy2002 · 3 years

Text

Fool’s Rush In

Chapter 18

Pairing: Liam x Riley

Book: TRR AU

Warnings: Language, crude talk, and the usual bad writing.

I had planned from the beginning to end this series after the next chapter and an epilogue, but call me crazy, I love it too much. So while this part of the story will end, I still plan to update with one-shots or stories from time to time. If you’re just done with it, let me know.

Also, this chapter felt a little off to me, so I apologize if it's terrible, but I think I ended on a good note.

Thanks @burnsoslow for prereading.and usage of your girl, who finally got to make her debut.

---------------------------------

"Damn it, Riley! Pick up!" Liam grumbled as he lowered the cell phone from his ear and tossed it in the seat beside him. The royal jet had been in the air for a little over four hours already, and he'd grown frustrated at getting her voice mail each time. Surely, she was home by now.

Even though it was the middle of the night in Las Vegas, it was worth interrupting her. He had tried unsuccessfully to contact Riley since he packed his bags earlier and hastily headed for the airstrip. By this point, there must have been a dozen or so messages left on her phone without so much as a hint she'd gotten them.

While time wasn't an issue -- he'd get to Las Vegas one way or the other -- it was the desperation to hear from his new wife and tell her he knew precisely why she left.

And that he loved her.

Tilting his head back against the headrest, he swiveled side-to-side in his luxury chair while tightly clutching his freshly poured scotch. The security footage he watched earlier that morning replayed in his mind again. There were no doubts about what it showed: Madeleine confronted Riley outside their quarters just minutes after leaving the ball. Without sound, however, no one could ascertain specifically what was said among the two women. It was clear though, Riley was not a willing participant in that conversation. When they saw the disk held up in the Countess' hands, and the look of sheer horror on his pussycat's face, that told Liam all he needed to know. This was a blackmail situation, plain and simple, that included assault; those flowers he found scattered on the ground when he returned to his quarters last night all made sense now. This act was deliberate and treasonous, and Liam would ensure his ex-fiancee paid handsomely for it.

After they viewed the footage several more times, the Royal Guard was immediately summoned to Krona to find Madeleine and take her into custody. Liam knew it was a long shot whether his guards could pull that sting off, but he was working with what he had at the moment.

Despite whatever happened next, there was one thing the King was confident of: He was prepared to give up his entire Kingdom to get his girl back. Returning to Cordonia without her was not an option.

Shaking his tumbler of partially melted ice cubes, Liam leaned forward and steadily poured another bottle of scotch into his glass. As soon as he sat back and raised the fresh beverage to his lips, he was startled by the ringing of his cell phone. In a rush to answer, he hastily set the drink aside and snatched his phone up from where he tossed it earlier.

"Hello! Love?" He answered, hopeful it was her.

"Hey, little brother. Love you too ... Say, do you know if the palace has a Spanish tickler or a breast ripper? Asking for a friend."

Liam furrowed his brows in confusion before rising from his seat, plopping a knee down on its cushioned bottom, and glancing to the back of the plane. "Leo? Why are you calling me? We're on the same damn plane. I'm looking right at you."

"Nevermind that. Listen, I figured out a way to take care of Madeleine once and for all. Behold ..." Leo held up a leather-bound book and waved it over his head while Liam squinted from the front of the plane to get a better look. "... The King Constantine Guide To Fucking Torture In The 21st Century; Father gave it to me after my investiture ceremony. The way I see it, there really is no other option here than to tie her to a tree in front of the palace, invite the public to watch for a modest fee, and do some cool shit with iron rods and spikes. I got dibs on the knee-splitter, though."

"Leo ..." Liam began to warn his brother how ridiculous that plan was before stopping himself and staring off into the distance for a moment in thought. "Wait ... is there anything about flaying in that book?"

"Hell yeah there is! And if you're interested in thumbscrews, my buddy, Pete, has a trunk full of them. He uses them for ass play, but I'm sure he wouldn't mind letting us borrow them to split Maddie's thumbs in half." Leo let out a maniacal laugh.

Liam chuckled, despite the peculiarity of the conversation. "I'm not going to lie and tell you I'm not interested -- to the contrary, actually. And while I appreciate your help in seeing that Madeleine is brought to justice, I think we better stick to more lawful means."

"Boo, you whore!" The line went dead with a click.

Liam held the phone away from his ear, watching Leo sink down into his chair in a huff. "Really?" He called back in agitation. Met with the silent treatment and a middle finger from his disgruntled brother, Liam rolled his eyes, then slumped back down into his seat. Maybe he'd try to call Riley again.

-------------

The phone on Riley's nightstand buzzed again. She knew it was another call from Liam, and while she felt remorseful for ignoring all of his calls and texts, she couldn't bring herself to look at or answer them quite yet. The sooner all ties between them were broken, she believed, the quicker he could forget all about her and the mess she made of everything.

But even her willpower was slipping. Riley slid her hand out from under the pillow and reached over to pick up her phone. Holding it to her chest, she contemplated for a second just reading his texts and returning his calls, but Madeleine had warned to end all contact with him. Obviously, she was curious about what he had to say, but it was too risky. I'm so sorry, Liam.

Hitting the power button on her cell, the light on the device faded to black before she tossed it in the nightstand drawer.

Early the next morning, Riley's eyes flickered open to the sound of a banging on her front door, followed by the incessant ringing of her doorbell. Feeling exhausted from a lack of sleep, mainly because of crying and unable to think about anything other than how she hurt Liam, Riley decided to ignore it. She just wanted to be left alone, and eventually, they'd give up and leave, right?

Except they didn't.

Annoyed, she let out a sigh and then eased herself up out of bed; the pain in her back was still a problem. Tossing a robe over her body, she slowly made her way down the stairs of her townhome -- each step excruciating -- until she finally made it to the door.

Twisting the lock, she opened the entry door, before letting out a sudden gasp at the tearful person standing on the other side.

"Oh my God, Riley! Y-You're alive! You're really alive!"

"Alyssa?" Riley's best friend from New York pulled her into a relieved hug, nearly sobbing at that point. "What're you doing here?"

"I thought something terrible happened to you, but now that I can see you're still among the living ..." she sniffled before pulling back and narrowing her blazing blue eyes at her friend. "Where have you been? I've been trying to get ahold of you ever since you texted me that you were boarding a plane in Cordonia, and that something serious happened involving Tyler. You promised me you'd call as soon as you landed--"

"I know. I'm so sorry. It was late ..."

" -- and you didn't. Then I worried, even more, when you didn't answer any of my calls back. I had to book the first red-eye flight here to make sure you were all right." Finished with her rant, a huffing Alyssa's jaw immediately clenched. "Now, what did that shithead ex of yours do? I'll kill him if he hurt you, Ri. I might be small, but I'm scrappy like an alleycat. You know I'll claw his eyes out."

Riley let out a light chuckle; Alyssa was always overprotective of her and had a clever way with words, but quickly, that chuckle faded into a teary frown. "Oh, Lyss," she whimpered as her face fell into her hands.

Alyssa quickly wrapped her arms around Riley and pulled her into a warm embrace. "Aww, Riley. Sweetie, it's going to be okay," she soothed.

Stepping inside, Alyssa kicked the door shut and led them both over to the sofa. Sensing Riley was in pain -- and not just emotional -- she helped lower her troubled best friend onto the couch. "I want you to start from the beginning and tell me everything that happened."

The best friends had remained in contact over the last several weeks. It was Alyssa's frantic morning phone call over a month ago that alerted Riley to the news coverage of her impromptu marriage to Liam, having saw it on the news.

And while Alyssa was aware of everything about Cordonia and Liam, and how Riley fit into all that from their prior conversations, she listened intently while it was revealed to her the details of the incident with Madeleine and the video her ex-husband gave to the Countess.

Grabbing a tissue from the end table, Alyssa handed it to Riley. "So this cow confronted you with that disgusting video and basically blackmailed you into leaving, or she would release it to the press?" Riley nodded somberly.."Ugh, I want this treasonous bitch thrown in the dungeon, subjected to live-streamed daily anal fistings with giant Hulk gloves ... And Tyler, I want to break every bone in his rotten body, one at a time. And I want to leave him there afterwards, dripping just enough water on his lips, so he doesn't die of dehydration, screaming in agony for the weeks it will take to die of starvation."

Riley's face scrunched up. "God, Alyssa."

Alyssa shrugged. "What? I don't care; it's what they deserve for hurting you. Did you at least tell Liam what happened?"

This time, Riley shook her head. "No. Madeleine warned me if I told him, she would release the video, and then the council would likely force him to step down. I won't allow him to lose everything for someone like me."

Irritated, Alyssa pressed a palm to her forehead. "Why are you like this?"

"Like, what?" Riley asked in exasperation.

"That whole, 'someone like me,' part. He wanted to stay married to you. He made you the queen of his country. You've said he couldn't keep his goddamn hands off you for two seconds. And more importantly, you told me you have never felt more loved in your life, than you do when you're with him. The fact that you still question your worthiness to him blows my mind."

Alyssa reached for Riley's shaky hand, able to tell by the tears sliding down her cheeks and the soft whimpers that she'd touched on something. "You're his pussycat, Riley. Liam already lost everything when you left him. Tell me you know that."

Riley wiped at her face., her voice stifled, "I just wanted to protect him."

"I know." Alyssa smiled softly. "But you needed to give him the chance to decide what he wanted. You made it for him because you know he'd choose you, regardless if he lost everything else; that's how much he loves you, Ri. You can't protect someone who loves you by hurting them. Besides, he's the King; he can simply execute the council if he wants to -- Liam’s not going anywhere."

"You just HAD to add that last part in, didn't you?" Riley laughed, feeling a sense of ease as her mood lightened. It felt good to talk to someone who could help her make sense of everything and realize she hadn’t exactly made the best call by leaving and not telling Liam what happened. "But what do I do about this video? What if Madeleine releases it to the public?"

"Yeah, a video of a married woman having sex with her husband -- Oh, the shame!" she retorted. "Look, you'll be famous on Pornhub for a few weeks, and it'll fizzle out. I know that doesn't make it all better, but you have a lot of people who love you ... we'll be there for you if that happens. Besides, it's Gonzo Dick; I doubt anyone will wanna watch anyway."

Riley snorted out at the nickname she gave her ex-husband. "Stop making me laugh."

Alyssa cracked a grin. "Nah. If I can make you laugh at that asshole's expense and his crooked dick, then it's worth it."

"Well,” she breathed, “ I suppose I should get dressed and call Liam. Tell him what happened, and hopefully, he'll … forgive .." her voice trailed off at tasting an increasing collection of bile in her throat and a familiar rumble in her stomach.

“What’s wrong?”

Riley frowned. "Damn it, why do I keep getting sick?"

After rushing to the bathroom with Alyssa's help, Riley came out moments later, flushed and perspiring. Alyssa, who waited outside the door to make sure she was all right, eyed her friend with grave concern. "Ri, are you sure you don't have a concussion? You said that Madeleine caused you to fall, and you complained you’ve been getting sick a lot. Is there any chance you hit your head too?"

Riley considered for a moment before shaking her head. "I don't think so. I mean, it all happened so fast I don't really remember, but my head doesn't hurt."

"OH NO! You have memory loss too, on top of the vomiting and a hurt back? Riley, you need to go to the hospital now. This is serious."

"Alyssa, I'm fine. I don't need to go to the hospital," Riley dismissed and hobbled past her friend toward the kitchen. "You always worry too much."

Alyssa followed behind her, brows bumped together in a scowl. "Because you're a stubborn ass who never listens, that's why. You need to get checked out," she insisted. Riley paid no attention as made her way to the fridge; that reaction only served to piss Alyssa off. "You can ignore me all you want, but you know as well as I do, I'll just keep annoying the hell out of you until you do it … I'll sing every Dave Matthews song ever written -- On repeat."

Riley shut the fridge door and turned at the threat, giving her a dismayed glare. "You wouldn't."

Alyssa tilted her chin. "You know damn well I would. I have... so much to say, so much to say, so much --"

"Please stop! I'm going."

---------

At Valley Hospital and Medical Center, Drake sat slumped down in the waiting room of the E.R; a thawed ice pack covered his crotch. His increasingly irritated self caught sight of a nurse escorting yet another patient back for examination. "You've got to be fucking kidding me."

Tired of waiting, he cast the ice pack aside and marched straddle-legged to the triage desk where a beefy nurse with a scowl sat filing her nails. "How much longer is this gonna take?" He demanded bitterly.

The nurse remained focused on her nails and answered in a careless fashion. "You'll get called back when it's your turn, Mr. Walker."

"My turn? MY TURN? I've been here for 15 fucking hours waiting for my turn. I've watched one person after the next walk right in, get treated, and leave. Whose ass do I actually have to lick to get treatment around here?"

Unimpressed with his theatrics, she folded her arms on the desk and looked up at Drake with a glower. "Look. You got kicked in the wang by a hooker. Shit happens. It's not the end of the world. Go home, have a beer, and a good laugh. You'll live." She resumed her filing.

Drake ran both hands through his rumpled hair, letting out a sardonic laugh. "I cannot fucking believe you just said that to me. I suffer trauma on my transplanted dick, and the greatest healthcare minds in the world tell me to have a beer and laugh about it?" his voice shrieked.

The nurse blew on her nails. "That's what I said."

That snarky remark sent him even further over the edge. A red-faced Drake pounded two white-knuckled fists on the desk and leaned down into her space. "Now you listen here, lady. I demand to be seen right now, or so help me, I'll tear this whole goddamn place apart brick-by-fucking-brick! Do you understand me?"

Having none of that, the nurse, who was several inches taller than a startled Drake expected, sprung for her chair and loomed over him menacingly. Drake flinched when she rammed the nail file at him and threatened, "Now, you listen.You can either sit your ass down, or I will sit you down. Do you understand me?"

He didn't understand. He would never understand.

A security guard who heard the commotion casually approached the agitated pair and placed a firm hold on Drake's elbow. "Do we have a problem here, Betty Lou?"

She shook her head, sizing Drake up. "No, just some whiny-ass Karen griping about his dick."

---------------

Several moments later, Alyssa and Riley exited an Uber and wandered into the waiting area, making their way up to the triage line -- or what they thought was a line. It was actually Drake still standing there, continuing to protest his case to anyone who would listen and demanding to speak to someone in charge.

While Riley dug through her purse to retrieve her health insurance card, Alyssa couldn't help but be taken in by the fiery debacle taking place in front of them. She inched a little closer, unable to help herself; it was good drama and sucked her right in.

Catching a glimpse of Drake’s sour face, she cocked her head introspectively; there was something oddly familiar about the man in the denim shirt going off. Alyssa tapped her chin. Where have I seen him before?

Before long, the realization set in, and her eyes snapped wide open. She nudged Riley with an elbow and leaned over, whispering, "Hey, isn't that the guy from the news who had the penis transplant? It looks just like him."

Knowing precisely who that was by the description, Riley popped her head up to look. She hadn't known Drake well, only that he was Liam's best friend, and after having spent time together on the plane ride to Cordonia with him, that her maid-of-honor had given him several venereal diseases. "Drake?" she called out.

While Alyssa zoned in on his groin, curious as to what was in there, Drake broke away from the dispute and turned his focus toward the familiar-sounding voice. She was a connection to home and a long-sought-after friendly face. "Riley? Liam's insta-bride, Riley?"

She let out a light chuckle and nodded. "Yeah, I suppose that's how you would know me ... What are you doing at the hospital? Is your body rejecting the ..." Her embarrassed gaze dropped lower with a gulp. " ... thing?"

"No!" he barked. "I just got attacked by that ... uh, someone."

"You got attacked?" Shocked, Riley placed a hand over her chest. "Why would someone attack you? Are you okay?"

Feeling incensed by the memory, Drake shook his head and muttered. "It's a long story ... What about you? What are you doing here? Thought you were in Cordonia with Liam?"

She inhaled a deep breath through her nostrils and forced a smile. "It's a long story too."

Drake peeked over his shoulder at Nurse Ratchet, giving him a gimlet-eyed stare from behind her computer screen. He groused and turned to face Riley again. "I've got time."

----------------

Nearly 12 hours after takeoff, the royal jet touched down in sunny Las Vegas, an hour ahead of schedule. Liam and Leo stepped off the plane and strolled across the tarmac to the awaiting vehicle, where a smiling man held the rear passenger door open.

"Bastien," Liam greeted as he approached. "Good to see you again."

"Your Majesty." He bowed. "Likewise ... I have the rental car you requested, and the Queen's address is already programmed into the GPS. Should take no more than 30 minutes to get there."

"Perfect,” he replied, clapping Bastien’s shoulder.“Thanks for having everything ready to go."

Liam had contacted the head guard -- who was still jailed for non-support -- and gained him a day-long pass to provide security detail. Bastien was also to stay in contact with his guards to oversee the capture and detainment of Madeleine.

Bastien took their bags, and the brothers hopped into the back of the Escalade. Once they pulled away from the airport, the directions led the group west. The head guard glanced briefly in the rearview mirror as he drove on. “I want to thank you for giving me a second chance. It’s nice to be out of that place, even if just for the day.”

Liam smiled back. “Not a problem, good man. I can’t think of anyone else I trust more for the job than you … though I’m not sure why. Anyway, do you have any updates on the Madeleine situation?”

“Yes, sir. I contacted my colleagues again just before you arrived. Countess Madeleine was taken by surprise when our guards arrived at her family estate in Krona. Once in custody, she was immediately transported to Valtoria for detention, exactly as you requested.”

"That's terrific news ... Wait ...Did you say, Valtoria?" Liam asked with puzzlement in his tone.

"Yes, sir. As you requested."

"Man, please tell me Mads tried to fight them off, and they had to use the taser on her," Leo insisted as he held his crossed fingers in the air. "A billy club ... a rubber hose ... something."

"There may have been a brief verbal exchange and some threats, but the Countess promised if they permitted access to her computer to send a quick email, she would go with them peacefully and without further protest. There didn't seem to be any harm in doing so, and she followed through with her word. Sorry to break it to you, Prince Leo, but no tasers were harmed in her capture."

"Well, fiddle shit." Leo glanced over at his brother --who was still scratching his head -- in disappointment. "If only I'd been able to get that shock collar on her while I was engaged to her, you wouldn't be in this mess right now. She just squirmed too much. I’m sorry I let you down, little brother."

"It's fine, Leo; it's not the first time,” Liam said dryly before turning his head away from Leo to face the front again. "Can we get back to Madeleine being taken to Valtoria? I never requested that. An accused of the Crown is always placed in the palace dungeon. There aren't even cells in Valtoria to hold her in. What am I missing here?"

Approaching a stoplight, Bastien lightly pressed the brakes, then met Liam’s gaze in the mirror. “The orders I was given to pass along to the guards from you earlier were clear in your text: Once she’s taken into custody, she is to be sent to Valtoria and placed in the cage with the monkey until further notice. That’s what they --”

“Mongo! They put her in the cage with Mongo?” Liam exploded before pinching the bridge of his nose, knowing there was no point in asking how that message got mixed up. “Goddamn it, Leo! Why are you, you, sometimes?” He ran a swift hand down his face and turned to glare at his brother. “Do you realize they consider that cruel and unusual punishment? Did you ever stop to consider how much shit I'm going to hear over this if this gets out?" He let out a sharp breath and threw his hands in the air."How? How did you do it?"

"It's simple pimple, Liam. When you went to the bathroom, I grabbed your phone," he replied bluntly with a shrug. "And according to page 24 of Father's torture book: It's not considered cruel and unusual punishment, as long as she has food, water, and clean shelter -- which she does. Or ... if she's housed with a member of the royal family -- which she is. Mongo is the heir to the throne, so we've got that covered too. So just relax, little bro; Leo’s got it all taken care of for you."

Liam dropped his chin to his chest, then let out a weary breath. “Bastien, call the guards and have them move her to the palace at once.”

As Bastien placed the call, Liam shifted in his seat so that he was staring out the window. He put a palm over his mouth to conceal the curved lips that formed a devilish grin, trying to contain the unbearable urge to bust out laughing. Oh, Maddie ... I hope you and Mongo had one hell of a time together.

----------------

Back at the hospital, Riley situated herself on the gurney while a nurse prepared to check her vitals and ask general health questions.

In the next bay over, separated by a thin sliding curtain, Drake was finally attended to after Riley reluctantly, but willfully, played up her celebrity status. Once she threatened to have the hospital shut down -- which she doubted was even possible on her end -- the proverbial red carpet was rolled out for both of them; she was still a queen, afterall.

Steps were then taken to ensure they both received the royal treatment, so to speak. That wasn’t typically how Riley preferred to handle situations; she hated big fusses over her. But in the end, she did help one of Liam’s oldest friends finally get the medical attention he needed, so it was worth trying.

The blood pressure cuff on Riley’s arm squeezed tighter just as one of the doctors stepped inside and slid the curtain all the way closed. His cheerful greeting drew Riley's fixed gaze away from the changing numbers on the monitor beside her bed, and she smiled up at him.

The doctor was tall and thin, with thick spectacles perched near the tip of his nose. He gave a brief nod to Alyssa, who was sitting in a chair at Riley’s bedside, rubbing her shoulder. Scanning the patient chart, he spoke without looking up, "Queen Riley, it says here you suffered a fall?"

"I'm just Riley, please," she requested.

The doctor looked up from the paperwork and nodded with an understanding smile. "Of course."

After the initial exam concluded, Alyssa remained behind after the doctor ordered x-rays and transport had wheeled Riley down to radiology.

Bouncing her crossed leg as she scrolled through her phone, Alyssa tried to bide her time until Riley returned. An air conditioning vent overhead that she didn’t realize drowned out so much noise around her, suddenly flipped off. Able to catch the conversation on the other side of the curtain better, she listened with a broken heart as Drake reluctantly described to an attending, the worst days of his life. Alyssa shuddered as he recalled the moment his penis fell off, rolled across the bed, and dropped onto Ethan Ramsey’s leather shoe during an exam. “That poor man. I just want to hug him,” she muttered.

Her little ears perked when the doctor mentioned he was “going to have a look at it.” In her curious mind, there were no doubts that she was too. This was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to take a peek at the first transplant of its kind; no way was she going to miss out on that.

Alyssa slid to the edge of her seat and raised her hand to up to the curtain, easing a tiny portion of it aside. Her blue eyes crinkled with frustration at a nurse who was blocking her view. “Move your ass,” she whispered to herself.

Unable to get a good view, she gave up that spot and eyed the other opening in the curtain at the far end of the room. Sliding off her chair to a crouching position on the floor, Alyssa crab-walked as fast as she could without falling off balance until she made it to the other side. Crooking a stealthy finger along the seam of the curtain, she hoped and prayed Drake’s genital exam wasn’t through yet. What her eyes saw on that gurney when she pulled the fabric aside caused her heart to jolt out of her chest.

Alyssa cupped a hand over her gaping mouth before stepping back and letting the curtain fall loosely shut again. Dropping her hand limply at her side, staring blankly at nothing, she mouthed, “Oh. My. God.”

----------------

Down in the radiology department, Riley sat patiently in her wheelchair, waiting for the tech to return to take the x-rays. Enjoying the lighter feeling of having an empty bladder again, she let out a contented sigh; she was about to bust earlier. That mandatory urine sample couldn’t have come at a more opportune time.

Left alone to ruminate in her thoughts, Riley wondered about those phone calls she ignored last night from Liam. The regret she felt over her actions the last 26 hours continued to mount up. And it took a heart-to-heart with her best friend to really put things into perspective. Her decisions weren’t the best course to take, even if they were done with the most loving of intentions.

There was a lot to make up to Liam, and she only hoped that it wasn’t too late. Could he even forgive her for all of it?

She wished he was there with her right now. If she knew him the way she thought she did, he’d be standing around telling inappropriate jokes to make her laugh or embarrass her with his silly antics. It was like Liam could be two different people sometimes: Kingly and stoic around everyone else, but the second it was just him alone with her, he was such a big kid. Somehow, she could bring out his true self; the one where he felt comfortable enough to be silly and playful. And as much as she tried to play them off, those little pet names he gave her -- she chuckled to herself as they popped into her head -- were funny. What the hell even was a knucklehead mcspazzatron?

“Miss Brooks” Riley shook herself of her thoughts as the x-ray tech returned and made her way over. “I apologize that took so long.”

Riley smiled up at her. “No need to apologize… Are you ready for me now?”

“Not exactly,” she teased in such a cheery tone, Riley slightly lowered her eyelids, holding her gaze. “You most likely won’t be getting x-rays today, sweetie.” She held a fisted hand out to Riley and opened her palm to reveal the small object inside. “You’re pregnant.”

--------------------

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#fools rush in #liam x mc #liam x riley #king liam #prince liam #the royal romance #trr #choices fanfiction #bbrandy2002

138 notes · View notes

ktheist · 3 years

Text

life is yours

muses. professor!fiancee!namjoon x reader x fiancee’s friend!past life husband! expecting father!yoongi

genre. reincarnation au. college au. pregnancy au.

word. 1.7k

you loved min yoongi, you’d die for him.

and died for him you did. when the traitors came for your king, you’d leaped in front of him and took a swing of the treacherous sword. history books portrayed him as the king who went mad. the king who slayed hundreds of lives in one night and ruled for fifty more years as a tyrant.

what are histories if not painted with a tragic romance?

they said it was because of you he went mad. because he lost his queen, his breath.

a few hundred years later, he’d found her again. at the age of twenty-seven and you, twenty-two.

his girlfriend was pregnant with his baby and you were professor kim namjoon’s student-turned-fiance.

“it’s funny, you know,” you took a whiff of the cigarette and breathe out through your mouth, “we can walk out of our current relationships and ruin everyone’s perception of us, or we can just lead the life we’re living like we didn’t remember anything.”

yoongi squints his eyes as he stares up at the sun. lips tucked downwards, as though telling the universe that after one lifetime too many, he’s unimpressed.

“or we could just run away,” he recalls the flames of the torches of that night - not as bright as today’s sun but just as mocking, “forget about everything and run away.”

“you make it sound so easy,” a laugh escapes your smoke kissed lips, “it’s not as if the people we’ve known and loved are fake, faceless puppets.”

this life is just as real.

though it would’ve gone much different if you’d met each other sooner.

yoongi taps the pointed corner of the invitation card on his palm. it tickles but it’s nothing compared to the burning sensation as he held onto the handle of the sword despite it grazing his flesh.

“how far along is she?” his girlfriend, you mean.

walking into namjoon’s office - the office you’d snuck into a few times too many but felt utterly alien - you saw the porcelain, snow-kissed complexion of your king. all at once, the memories hit you like a rain of shards.

and in each, individual shard, you see the images of your first step, first drawing, first embroidery and the first time you met yoongi. an arrogant boy whom you pushed into the koi pond.

the same boy who smirked at you the whole time during your engagement ceremony while you squirmed in your seat, scheming a runway and an apology at the same time.

and the man who strutted into the room, plopped on the left side of the bed and bade you good night on your first night as a married couple.

it was until three months later, that you trapped him under you and confronted him about it.

you thought yoongi, the crown prince turned king, had a lover. but he loved you too much to hurt you. they said you’re supposed to bleed on your first time. you laughed until your stomach hurt because you were happy beyond words that your husband was abstaining himself for you and not going around fucking a lover behind your back.

not even a year later, you caressed your stomach and giggled to yourself, thinking about yoongi’s stone cold expression turning pink and speechless. that night, the rebellion happened.

your last memories was of him holding you in his arms and calling out your name.

in this lifetime, your first memory of him is watching him smile a familiar smile that screamed awkwardness as namjoon relayed their youthful tales.

that was, until he got to the part where yoongi’s about to be a father.

all of a sudden, there’s a knot in your stomach. it twists and tightens until you feel like you’re going to puke if you didn’t excuse yourself, saying something about calling your mom that you’d be having dinner with namjoon and letting the two men catch up.

“ten weeks. we’re ten weeks pregnant,” he sucks in a deep, agonized breath - and from the way he’s gazing up at the sky with his hands on his hips, you don’t think he meant to hide his afflictions.

the way he refers to himself and her as ‘we’ makes that knot all the more painful.

“i was a seven weeks pregnant,” you smile softly to yourself, gazing down at your stomach as if you could feel your baby from your previous lifetime.

you shouldn’t have said it.

should’ve just kept quiet.

but-

“they told me you were eight weeks in,” the soft, breathless tone that comes from yoongi is what makes your heart beat again.

as if you’d come to life. as if min ___, the queen of joseon had come back to tell her king the one thing she wished to say. the one thing she wished for.

a family.

“taeyang. i was going to name him taeyang because he was going to be the sun of the dynasty and bring peace to the nation,” you laugh and it’s the choked up sound that you make that makes you realize you’re on the verge of crying.

“never thought i’d be talking about histories and dynasties with anyone - i hate history,” the confession slips out of you like you’re talking with an old friend. someone you trust wholeheartedly. someone you know you can confide in.

yoongi was your friend, your lover, your king.

“come with me. i have a savings account, we can start anew somewhere, we can have what we couldn’t have back then.” he turns to you and looks at you in the eye.

“what about your baby?” you ask because you know it’s meant for his future family.

“i’ll send child support every month,” he says.

“your parents?” you ask because his mother was a concubine and the king barely remembered his name out of the names of his many children.

in this lifetime, from the way namjoon candidly told the story, you know they love their eldest son as much as he loves them.

“they’ll adore you,” he says.

“no one’s gonna love a homewr- ah,” you hiss, dropping the cigarette that was trapped between your fingers until it burned your skin.

“___,” a familiar, deep but less gravelly tone reverberates against the walls as namjoon comes jogging at you like you’re a kid who just bruised her knee.

you study his face and yoongi’s eyes burn holes in your head.

from the way he meets your gaze and gives you ‘your fingers almost got burned and you’re looking at me?’ you think it’s safe to say that he didn’t hear what you were saying.

“i’m fine, i just burned my fingers because i got too engulfed in yoongi’s stories about how you two met,” you laugh at how namjoon’s inspecting your fingers more attentively than a doctor would.

“another reason to include in the long list of reasons not to smoke,” your finacee chides.

“that was my last,” you announce in a higher pitch than your usual voice - and that’s how namjoon knows you’re half-joking, even when you- “i promise.”

“anyways,” you place the injured hand on his chest to distract him - the way yoongi’s jaw tighten doesn’t go past you, “i talked to my dad because apparently my mom was cooking and couldn’t come to the phone and he said to tell you to bring me back before curfew.”

it’s the way namjoon freezes underneath your touch, his eyes blinking once and his soul retreating far back into his subconscious that makes you giggle.

“i’m kidding.”

only then, does he breathe again.

“my mom wasn’t cooking, she was watching her favorite show,” you say again.

it takes a split second for namjoon to put two and two together and tenses up again. as if he feels your father’s hardened gaze behind him. your father didn’t take it too well when you introduced your professor as your boyfriend who proposed to you a week before.

“it was nice meeting you, yoongi, we look forward to see you at our wedding,” you extend a hand, the playful smile reserved for namjoon, now directed at your king.

the king whom you died for. and the king who you’re telling to live his life, as you’ll live yours.

“wouldn’t miss my best friend’s wedding for the world,” he smiles, his hand grasping yours and you thought you’re going to combust from the electrifying sensation that runs through your veins.

but it’s only short-lived.

you pull your hand away and he summons his back to his side.

he turns to namjoon and gives him a pat on his shoulder, congratulating him again but this time, with a lingering stare before walking past the two of you and towards the parking lot.

“professor, i’ll get my purse from your office and we’ll be good to go.” you say absently before skipping to the opposite direction of where yoongi was headed.

with each step you take, you hear your heart breaking. just like the pieces of your memories that rains down like shards of glass.

you wonder if you’ll make it through this life without dying of a broken heart.

“i thought we fixed that?” namjoon murmurs behind you, just as you sling the strap of your purse over your shoulder.

“hm?” you turn to the man leaning against the doorframe, observing you with a crease between his brows.

“you called me professor again,” namjoon mumbles almost as if he’s sulking.

and your heart warms at the tender sight of a grown man acting like a child. you’re reminded of the reason you fell for kim namjoon. his gentle nature was the opposite of yours yet he laughed at your jokes like he laughed off your flirtatious advancements.

he told you he saw you as a student and lent you his scarf when he saw you shaking in the cold while waiting for your uber. the next time he saw you, at 11 pm before the library closes, he offered to drive you home even though his was in the opposite direction from yours.

“namjoon,” you say his name, a smile tucked on your lips as you wrap your arms around his waist and his arm that had been crossed over his chest instantly makes it way around you, “thank you.”

“for what?” his eyes light up like a christmas tree, dimple digging into his cheek.

“for choosing me,” you stand on the tip of your toes and he meets you halfway for the kiss.

and you loved min yoongi, you died for him.

you love kim namjoon, you choose to live the rest of your life with him.

note. so like, the title - technically, it’s like oc saying “my life is yours” to both yoongi and namjoon but in different lifetimes :D

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extremelyblackandwhite · 3 years

Text

innocence - 34

PAIRING: bodyguard!bucky barnes x innocent actress!reader

WARNINGS: panic attacks

NEXT CHAPTER

- James Buchanan Barnes, you are under arrest for the alleged harassment and stalking of Miss Y/N Y/L/N. - Bucky’s mouth went dry as he questioned if he’d heard that correctly.

Harassment? Stalking? Bucky and Y/N had barely even had a full blown fight yet. The closest thing to fighting would be the bickering sometimes the two of them would playfully engage in and even that was very, very far away from fighting.

- Buck? - he heard her name echo from the bedroom as she made her way to him, stopping once she noticed the swarm of police at her door. Her hand instinctively went too hold his as this deep feeling of dread, settled in the pit of her stomach and she grew overprotective of the man standing next to her.

- Miss Y/N Y/L/N please step aside. - the policeman in front of her moved his hand but Y/N continued on Bucky’s side, almost pushing him behind her back as if she were strong enough to fight more than 50 policemen.

- What is this about?

- Don’t worry, m’am. We have a team of psychologists and medical experts ready to help you. You are safe.

- What are you talking about?

- Y/N, it’s fine. - Bucky moved towards the policeman, extending his arms out to them so they could cuff him, although it was quite useless considering at any time he could just break free from them. It was no use doing anything and if he allowed her to go on, she would only get herself in trouble and he didn’t want her to get int rouble. He didn’t want this to be a struggle, he didn’t want another fight.

She stood there helpless to do anything as the moment they had him cuffed they immediately started to pull him away, away from her and she was frozen in her place, helpless to do anything as she watched the same government who had taken him away two weeks prior, take him away again as if he was some criminal. The buzz was back in her ear and she tried to follow him, follow them. She didn’t know, she would sit with him outside of prison she just ... she didn’t want them to be alone with him, she didn’t want him to leave yet as her feet started to move, she noticed one of the policemen was holding her, stopping her movements.

- GET OUT OF MY HOME! - she yelled out at him, managing to free herself somehow from his hold yet Bucky had already been taken downstairs. Maybe it was for the best, if he had seen someone hold her like that he probably would’ve lost whatever sanity he had left.

- M’am, please. You need to come with us. We understand you’re distressed but we have a team of professionals waiting to help you.

- Get. Out. - she punctuated the words with anger. - OUT!

They stood there watching her as if she were a mad woman and maybe she was. Maybe she was mad but she knew she was not obligated in any way, shape, or form to follow them. She closed the door on their faces, moving around the flat to find things to barricade the door with, her first thought being they would try to snatch her again by breaking down the door. Once she found herself comfortable with the barricade she had built, she let herself slide down to the floor, looking around about what she could do. What could she do? Why couldn’t she think about what to do? Her hand fished through the contents of her bag, everything falling down onto the floor until she got hold of her phone. The beeping was too long, it seemed as if every second lasted a year and the buzz in her ears was getting louder and louder. She didn’t know what it was, but she knew it was loud, too loud.

- Beanie? - her father’s voice came from her phone. - Are you okay?

- No. They arrested Bucky and I don’t know what to do, they didn’t told me why and I don’t know what to do. I don’t know what to do.

- Okay, beanie. Just breathe, yeah? Does he have a lawyer?

- No, dad, I don’t think he does.

- One of my friends still works in a New York firm. I could get him to represent James. Do you know where they took him?

- No, they didn’t tell me anything. Dad, you need to help me, I don’t know what to do. - she let her head rest against her free hand, knees moving up to her chest.

- It’s alright, beanie. It’s gonna be okay, you are okay, where are you?

- Bucky’s flat.

- Okay, hold on, beanie. We’ll get this sorted, just stay there.

She turned off the phone, letting herself curl against the dresser which barricaded the door. He didn’t deserve this. He deserved to be free. What could she do? She needed to do something, discover a way to find where he was and go stay there with him. She needed to be there for him, she wanted to be there for him. The seconds seemed like hours and hours seemed like years which felt like decades, the buzz quickly returned loudly in her ears and she found herself feeling suffocated by those four walls. Only her, those four walls and her.

- Y/N, open up, it’s Steve Rogers. - the knock on her door subsided the buzz. She looked around her, quick on her feet as she started to push the dresser to the side. Soon her little barricade was gone and she opened the door. Steve, Sharon and Sam were all there, with worried looks on her face. - Bucky used his call to call me. Are you okay?

- You need to do something, Steve.

- Y/N, calm down.

- Tell me to calm down again and I will throw you off the window. - she pointed at him menacingly. - Someone has to go to wherever he is and be with him. He’s all alone.

- It’s fine. I’ll go, just stay here with Sam and Sharon?

- Why should you be the one going?

- Well ... uhm, I’m Captain America. - Sharon hit Steve in the arm as he finished that sentence. - What was that for?

- Don’t get cocky. - she rolled her eyes. - Bucky’s arrested under the belief he’s the one who broke into your apartment and wrote those letters. They think it’s him because while he was on the mission there were no letters, it is him. Mission was a trap. At least that’s what Bucky thinks.

- It’s not Bucky. Seriously?

- If you go, there’s just gonna think you have Stockholm Syndrome or something. - Sharon sat down on the couch. - I know you wanna see him, Y/N but at this point, it’s best that Steve and his inflated ego go.

- Does he have a lawyer? Should we get him a lawyer? Maybe some money for bail? - Sam suggested.

- My father is contacting one of his old acquittances and he should be able to track where Bucky is. - Y/N rubbed her arms. - It’s not true, it’s not Bucky.

- It’ll be fine. - Sharon pushed Y/N onto the couch before she could finish her 100th round around the flat. She wanted to go, she was his fiancee, she had to be there but she did understand what Sharon meant.

Stockholm Syndrome.

For her to have Stockholm Syndrome he would’ve had to kidnap and hold her hostage first which he hadn’t done. This was just a stupid theory without any basis other than a stupid theory. Soon enough, the buzzing in her ears were done and the sounds coming from the TV show Sharon had put on to distract her were quickly overpowered by the buzz. She bite her lip, trying once again not to cry. She was always crying, it made her feel so weak, so helpless. She couldn’t help herself in her industry and she couldn’t help the man she loved. She was useless, as useless as one can be. She clasped her hands side to side, putting pressure on her thumbs as her chest started to feel a bit tighter.

- Y/N, look at me. - Sam put himself in front of her, knees bending down to her level so they were face to face. - Can you count to ten for me?

- What? - she moved her hand up to her chest, pinching the skin on her sternum. She hadn’t noticed what she was doing.

- Count to ten. You don’t need to say it out loud, just think it and take a deep breathe between each number. Can you do that?

She nodded her head but found herself getting lost between the mental images of the numbers in her mind. It became too much and whatever feeble control she had over her own tears broke down as it dawned on her.

It was her fault.

It was her fault he had been arrested. It was because of her and under her name he had gotten arrested. It was her fault. If she hadn’t complained, if she hadn’t moved in, if she hadn’t said anything he’d still be here. It was her fault he’d been given that stupid trap mission. Looking back, she was the common denominator in every situation. Why was she crying? She needs to stop crying, she needs to stop crying. There’s no use crying about it.

- Hey, it’s fine. You’re safe, ok? You’re safe, Bucky’s safe. - Sam sat next to the two girls.

- Yeah, he has a metal arm which can bend metal. Worse case scenario, he bends the jail open and walks straight out. - Sharon tried to lighten the mood. - You two can always move to an island with no extradition policy.

She forced herself to smile, feeling the painful stretch on her lips before the buzz returned, but this time her eyes were focused on the TV yet she couldn’t process what was happening. It was almost as if she were sleeping with her eyes opened, yet she was conscious of it. She’d rather be disconnected from it, stuck in a transe as he rushed through her mind to try and find something she could do for him.

She snapped out of it as the door of her flat was opened. Steve and the lawyer walked in first and Bucky came behind them, head low as if he had done something wrong. He’d done nothing wrong.

- Buck ... - she ignored whatever the lawyer and Steve had started to say to reach him. She wrapped her arms around him, tucking his head in the space between her neck and shoulder. She broke her embrace for a few moments, cupping his face to inspect if anything had happened to him. - Are you okay? Did they hurt you?

- I’m fine, princess. Are you okay?

- It doesn’t matter. - she turned to Steve and the lawyer, whose name she didn’t even know. - What happened?

- Mr. Barnes is out on bail due to lack of evidence regarding the accusation. It’s mostly speculation but prosecutors are following with a case due to Mr. Barnes prior ... prior case. They’re planning their case and at this moment, I believe they will have a strong case. Even if they don’t, the jury will always be slightly biased. Everyone knows who the Winter Soldier was so ... the defence has to be strong.

Bucky sat down in the couch with Y/N by his side. He was tired, once again yet that did not matter at all.

- Most likely they will ask you to testify, Miss Y/N which we will have to rehearse. Whatever you say will be perceived by the jurors as something against Mr. Barnes. Say anything positive they’ll associate it with trauma bonding, say anything negative it’ll reinforce the idea he’s guilty.

- But Bucky’s not guilty. I know he’s not guilty, he was the one who got the letter back in London, he wasn’t even in Soho when they broke into my apartment. He didn’t do it, it’s ridiculous.

- I know but it’s a ... delicate case due to previous history so we will have to prepare for it. I will give you my office’s address and you and Mr. Barnes can come meet me and we will strategise how to deal with depositions, testimonies and we will try and find some witnesses.

- Does she need to testify? - Sharon asked. - It sounds like she’s shooting the case in the foot.

- She doesn’t but the court might order it, specially considering they believe she’s under coercion from Mr. Barnes. I would be surprised if they tried to install a restraining order.

- I don’t want to testify against Bucky. - Y/N sighed, returning to pull at the skin of her fingers.

- It’s fine. - Bucky took her hand in his. - It’s gonna be fine, princess.

- I don’t want to testify.

- Well, she doesn’t have to. - Sam intervened. - I mean ... there’s always spousal privilege.

- Yes but Miss Y/N and Mr. Barnes are not married, therefore spousal privilege would not apply.

- They’re engaged. - Steve blurted out, getting a dirty look from Bucky. - You’re already gonna be married so ... what’s the problem?

- I have another case to get to today but I’ll see both you and Miss Y/N tomorrow in my office with my associates and we’ll build a strong defense.

Suddenly she wished she would’ve listened to her siblings and father argue. about their respective cases. At least she could’ve been of any use. It was going to be fine, right? How can someone build a case without evidence and only based on reputation? They can’t. Right?

- Well ... we don’t even need to go to city hall. We can get a marriage certificate and an officiant. Make it nice and away from the press.

- No. - Bucky said, getting up from the couch and walking into the bedroom, closing the door quite harshly.

- What did I do? - Steve looked at Y/N, a confused expression on his face.

- I’ll check on Bucky.

She wondered if he had regretted it. Any regular person would have regretted proposing to the reason why they had been arrested. Y/N opened the door of their bedroom, finding Bucky sat in the corner of the bed, head rest upon his hands.

- Bucky, are you okay? - she sat by his side. - Did they hurt you?

- No, I’m fine. - he didn’t mean to sound as harsh as it did.

- I’m so sorry, Bucky. I ... I didn’t know, I didn’t think ...

- Sorry about what? - he turned his head to look at her.

- Well, you’re upset and I’m the reason you went on that mission and that you got arrested so ... sorry is the least I can do.

- I’m not upset at you, princess. I’m upset at this situation. I’ve lived my whole life in a weird way and I thought I was going to get a normal wedding, at least.

- James. - she leaned her chin on his shoulder. - You’re 106 and I’m 26, that already makes it an odd marriage.

- You know what I mean ... a wedding in a church with a dress and a suit and maybe not the NY Police blaming me of stalking and harassment. Isn’t that what you want? Traditional wedding?

- No. - she hooked her finger under his chin. - I want to be married to you. We can get married in the middle of one of your missions for all I care. I’ve worn my fair share of wedding gowns and big gowns, acted several weddings scenes and been to several weddings.

- So you want to have a shotgun wedding?

- It’s not a shotgun wedding if I’m not pregnant, Bucky.

- We can do this, right?

- Yeah. What evidence do they have? They don’t have any evidence.

- So ... we’re getting married.

- We’re getting married.

taglist: @disasterbi @lookiamtrying @buckysteveloki-me @americasass81 @jamesbarnesappreciationclub @lostinthebeans @mariahthelioness29 @oh-nohoney @peaches-roses-sins @theadorasabditory @sipsteacasually @saiyanprincessswanie @booktease21 @noiralei @learisa @everythingisoverratedbutgreat @uglipotata72829 @naturalthrone22 @husherstan @mandiiblanche @vicmc624 @newyorkgoddess @itsallyscorner @chipilerendi @emzd34 @writerwrites @bluevxnus @that-girl-named-alex @captnrogers @nsfwsebbie @sarge-barnes-sir @niki-is-a-thing @cynic-spirit @tenaciousperfectionunknown

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all-hail-the-witcher · 3 years

Text

say yes to the plus one

the sequel to say yes to the drinks. which you should read first. i am so tired. just have it.

ship: geraskier

warnings: none

editing: ish

words: over 3k but under 4k

genre: floof

After getting drinks with Geralt, Jaskier could not stop thinking about him. He found himself taking more time with his appearance each morning - something that he hadn't even thought would be possible - hoping that Geralt would come into the store.

But Geralt still hadn’t come into Kleinfelds since the day of his trunk show. Jaskier tried not to be disappointed. He knew that he was very busy and it had been a one off that he had even met him in the first place.

Still, he couldn’t help but think that the two of them had something. There must have been some sort of chemistry between the two of them. Why else had Geralt asked him to get drinks after he had made that awful slip up with the magic fingers? Surely, he must feel something for him.

He had been texting Jaskier though, so Jaskier knew that he was at least still interested. Every message that he got wishing him a good morning or about some funny wedding dress design or of a picture of Geralt’s Pomeranian, Roach, made his heart flutter. There just had to be a future for them, right?

So, Jaskier went through yet another day of busy appointments at Kleinfelds, hoping that he would run into Geralt.

Late May into early June was always a busy time for them. Jaskier didn't personally understand the appeal of getting married in a zillion degree heat, but to each their own. This was by far his least favorite part of the year though. He spent every hour at work on his feet, hardly getting a break as he rushed from appointment to appointment: checking on alterations, making sure that every bride was getting their dream dress, and providing tweaks to designs when necessary to prevent bridal meltdowns.

It was nothing short of exhausting.

“Jaskier!” Camille, one of the consultants, called to him at around mid afternoon.

He had just spent the last hour trying to get a very adamant, very conservative mom and a very eccentric bride on the same page. He needed a daiquiri. Or three. Still, he turned around and put on his brightest smile.

“Yes, darling?”

“You’re needed down in alterations,” she said with a sweet smile.

Jaskier nodded and turned back through the salon to walk down to alterations. He hated going to alterations. If he was needed there, it usually meant that shit had hit the fan in some sense. He braced himself for a long afternoon.

He walked up to the manager, about to ask her where he was needed, when a shout from behind him made him jump.

“Jaskier!”

And a swell of desire rose up in Jaskier’s stomach because he knew that gravelly voice. Quickly, he straightened his tie, thankful he had worn his good pink one today, before taking a deep breath and turning around.

“Geralt!” he said, trying furiously to keep his cheeks from flushing. “What a lovely surprise.”

“Surprise?” Geralt’s brows furrowed together as he walked up to Jaskier, his wolfs head cane clicking across the floor. He was wearing a light blue button down today with the sleeves cuffed to his forearms that made his golden eyes pop and Jaskier had to struggle to keep his eyes on his face. “I texted you this morning.”

Jaskier’s eyes widened as he reached into his blazer pocket for his phone. Sure enough, there were two messages from Geralt. The first was a picture of Roach, lying in a patch of sun in his apartment. The second was a message that read:

Hey, I’m going to be at Kleinfelds today doing a custom fitting. Can you help with the appointment?

And Jaskier had never even seen it. Much less responded.

“Oh Geralt, I am so terribly sorry,” Jaskier said quickly. “This is our busiest time of year and I have hardly had a moment to think today.”

“You don’t have to help,” Geralt said sincerely, concern clouding his eyes. “I don’t want to push you too hard with the rest of your appointments, but I just figured that since I was here, I would ask.”

“No, no darling!” Jaskier said, rushing to reassure him. “Of course I will help! Helping you is much better than dealing with emotional brides and entourages that aren’t on the same page.”

“It’s alright Jaskier,” Geralt said, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “I know you just want to see my magic hands at work again.”

This time, Jaskier did flush bright red. “ You! ” he said outrageously, gaping at Geralt’s audacity to bring up his slip up from last time. “You need a nap!”

But Geralt just laughed, a glorious sound that sent shivers down Jaskier’s spine. “I think you’re the one who needs the nap, Jaskier.”

Jaskier shot him an incredulous look. How dare he make such assumptions, and how dare he be right?

“Anyway, the fitting is for my brother’s fiancee,” Geralt explained. “I made her a custom dress and she’s coming in for her fitting today. There was a shipping delay, so we only have time for one fitting before their wedding next week. I was hoping you could help.”

Jaskier could see the tension that had creeped its way into Geralt’s broad shoulders and the worry that was clouding his pretty face.

Jaskier placed a reassuring hand on Geralt’s arm. “Of course I’ll help, darling. Helping resolve wedding dress disasters is my specialty. Er- not that your dress is a disaster,” he said quickly, amused by the way that Geralt’s eyebrows had shot up. “Nothing that you design could ever be a disaster, the way that you work lace and beads is just divine, not a disaster. Not in any way a disaster. What I meant was the fact that she only has one fitting, that’s the disaster. Not your dress.”

“My magic fingers are quite incapable of creating a disaster dress, you’re right,” Geralt winked.

Jaskier resisted the urge to smack his shoulder. “You are never going to let me live that down, are you?”

“Nope.” Geralt looked far too pleased with himself. “Can you grab the dress for me? It’s on the rack for the day. And can you bring it to room 13?”

“Of course,” Jaskier said. He’d let the magic fingers comment slide for now. Geralt looked far too attractive with his moonlight silver hair in an artful bun, tendrils framing his face, for him to stay mad at him for long. He had never been able to resist a pretty face.

“Thank you.” Geralt moved past Jaskier and began to make his way to the room. Jaskier turned to watch him walk down the hall. His ass looked far too delicious in those gorgeous, fitted navy pinstripe pants. He just had to appreciate it. It would be a crime not to.

Distantly, he wondered if his ass looked just as delicious without the pants on. And was he wearing boxers or briefs? Oh who was he kidding, he had to be wearing at least briefs with pants like those. But what color? Geralt seemed like the type of man to appreciate a fun pair of underwear and-

Jaskier. Get your head out of the gutter.

He made a beeline to the rack and grabbed the dress. He had already left Geralt waiting long enough.

“Here you are,” Jaskier said, hanging the dress in the room.

Geralt fidgeted with his shirt sleeves, eyeing the bag. With a pang, Jaskier realized that he was nervous.

“I’m sure she’s going to love the dress,” Jaskier said, putting as much sincerity as he could into his words. “You are one of the best designers in the industry, Geralt.”

“I know,” Geralt said. “But I’ve never designed for someone that I know before, there’s more risk involved if they don't like it. Cause she’s put all her trust in me and what if she doesn’t like it? This is her only fitting. There isn't time to make anything else."

“Geralt,” Jaskier placed his hand over Geralt’s where he was still fidgeting with his sleeve. “She’s going to love it. Don’t doubt yourself so much, it ruins your pretty face.”

Fuck, did he just really say that out loud?

Geralt’s doubt dissipated as he looked at Jaskier amusedly. “You think my face is pretty?”

“Well who wouldn’t?” Jaskier said, trying and failing to backpedal. “It’s a plenty beautiful face, I mean you’ve got a nose and eyes and everything and…”

“I would hope I have a nose and eyes, yes,” Geralt laughed. Then, he leaned in, as if telling Jaskier a secret. “I’ve also heard that I have lips, too.”

Jaskier was saved the embarrassment of having to respond by a consultant escorting who Jaskier assumed to be Geralt’s brother’s fiancee and her entourage into the alterations area.

“Geralt!” a pretty girl with dark, curly hair said as she stepped up to hug him.

“Hi Triss,” Geralt said, giving her a polite hug and waving to the rest of the entourage. “Are you excited?”

“Of course I’m excited,” she said. “It’s only a week away, Geralt. This better be every bit as perfect as you said it would be.”

“It will be.” Geralt’s smile was easy, as if he hadn’t been freaking out about the appointment moments before.

“And who is this?” Triss asked, turning to Jaskier.

“Oh, everyone, this is Jaskier. He’s a consultant here and my friend,” Geralt said.

“Hello!” Jaskier said, giving everyone a wave.

“Jaskier, this is Triss, the bride to be. She’s marrying my brother.” Geralt gestured to the woman with the dark hair standing in front of them.

“Hello darling,” Jaskier said, shaking her hand. “You look just gorgeous.”

“Thank you,” Triss smiled.

“And this is Triss’s friend Yennefer, Yennefer’s daughter Ciri, my other brother Lambert, and Lambert’s husband Aiden,” Geralt said, pointing at the people sitting on the bench.

Jaskier waved to them all and gave them his best customer service smile.

“Tell me about your fiancee, darling,” Jaskier said to Triss.

“I am getting married to Eskel,” she said, her face lighting up immediately. “We’ve known each other forever and he is perfect.”

“Forever is an understatement,” Geralt said. “They went to kindergarten together.”

“Oh, a childhood love story!” Jaskier clapped his hands together. “How romantic! Let’s hope you have a dress to match.” He turned to Geralt.

“Well darling,” Jaskier said, gesturing to the garment bag that Triss’s dress was in. “Would you like to do the honors?”

Geralt stepped up to the garment bag, his shoulder taught with anxiety.

“Take a breath, Geralt,” Jaskier whispered, just quiet enough for only Geralt to hear. “She’s going to love it.”

Geralt nodded once before unzipping the bag and pulling out the dress. Jaskier couldn't help but gasp.

“Oh my god, it’s gorgeous,” Triss gasped next to him, taking Jaskier’s words right out of his mouth. “Geralt, you’ve outdone yourself.”

“You haven’t even put it on yet,” Geralt said, stepping away so that the entourage could see it as well.

“I don’t have to to know that it’s everything I wanted and probably more,” she said, giving Geralt another hug. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Geralt said and Jaskier thought that he saw a light blush tinting his cheeks. Was Geralt embarrassed? Oh that was just adorable…

The dress itself was gorgeous, just as Jaskier suspected it would be. It was a glorious ivory color that seemed to shift under the lights to be a gorgeous pale blush pink. The skirt appeared to be A line and was sleeveless with a high neck. The bodice had an intricate lace and beading design that blended into the skirt. Jaskier knew that the dress was going to be amazing but Triss was right, Geralt had really outdone himself.

“Would you like to put it on, darling?” Jaskier asked.

Triss nodded, still not tearing her eyes from the dress as Geralt stepped out of the dressing room and Jaskier closed the curtains behind him.

He helped Triss into the dress, zipping up the back effortlessly.

“Oh it fits you like a glove darling,” he remarked. “Almost like it was made for you. Oh wait-” he smiled at her. “It was, wasn’t it?”

Triss laughed at his terrible joke - bless her - as she fingered the lace and beads on the front. “I wasn’t expecting it to look this beautiful,” she whispered.

“Well then let's spin you round, darling,” Jaskier said, taking her hand as she turned to face the mirror. “That’ll really shock you.”

“Oh my god.” She clapped her hands over her mouth as she gaped at herself in the mirror, turning from side to side to look at herself better. “Oh my god .”

“Isn’t it wonderful?” Jaskier smiled at her. “Geralt is far more talented than he gives himself credit for.”

“Tell me about it,” Triss said distractedly as she continued to stare at the dress. “This is absolutely gorgeous. I love it. Eskel’s going to love it. Everyone’s going to love it.”

“Stop feeding pretty boy’s ego and show us then!” someone shouted from the other side of the curtain.

“Fuck off, Lambert!” Triss called back. “I’m having my bridal moment,” she whispered, tears springing up in her eyes as she continued to stare, utterly transfixed by the dress.

“Here, darling,” Jaskier said, pulling his pink pocket square out of his breast pocket. “You don't want to get your mascara on the dress now, do you?”

Triss dabbed at her eyes and took a deep breath before handing the handkerchief back to Jaskier.

“Are you ready to show your entourage?”

“She better be!” Lambert shouted from outside again.

Triss let out a watery laugh. “Yeah, I am.”

Jaskier drew back the curtain as Triss turned around.

“Oh, Triss,” Yennefer said, tears unmistakably clouding her eyes. “You look gorgeous.”

“Holy fuck, Geralt,” Aiden muttered as he stared at the dress, his jaw dropped. “ You designed that ?”

“Hey!” Lambert elbowed him. “I already said that pretty boy doesn’t need his ego inflated any more than it is!”

“Okay but fucking look at the dress, Lambert. It’s fucking gorgeous. And I’m half fucking blind. ”

Lambert shrugged. “Yeah I mean it’s nice. It’s a dress. It’s fabric. I don’t know what you want me to say.”

“Say she looks beautiful!” Aiden nearly shouted, smacking Lambert’s shoulder. “And that Geralt did a great job because if you don't I swear your ass-”

“Boys.” Triss crossed her arms. “There are children present.”

“I’m nineteen!” Ciri protested, throwing her hands up.

Triss ignored her. “There are children present and this is my fitting. So Lambert, shut up and tell your brother he did a good job.”

“You did a good job not fucking it up, Ger,” Lambert muttered.

“I’ll take it. And Aiden? You can finish that sentence later,” she said with a pointed look.

She turned to Jaskier, who had been watching the entire exchange with raised eyebrows. “Sorry about them, they are always like this.”

Lambert flipped her off. Aiden threw up a peace sign.

“Well,” Jaskier said, trying to contain his laughter. “Clearly they are meant for eachother.” He was just glad that he hadn’t had to diffuse the situation. He was tired of telling entourages to get along.

“It’s a good thing they got married then,” Geralt said, standing slowly and walking over to Triss. “You like the dress then?”

Triss once again read Jaskier’s mind and playfully punched Geralt’s shoulder. “I fucking love it . I was right, it is everything I wanted and more. Thank you.” Her eyes were shining with tears again and this time, it was painfully obvious that Geralt blushed when he looked down at his shoes.

“Of course, it was my pleasure,” Geralt said, squeezing her arm. “I’m glad you and Eskel are finally tying the knot, I couldn't imagine a more perfect match for him than you.”

“Geralt,” Triss sighed, the tears pooling in her eyes spilling over again. “You didn't need to make me cry more! The dress was enough!”

Geralt just laughed. Jaskier silently passed Triss his pocket square again.

“Is there anything big that you want to change or do I just need to adjust the fit?” Geralt asked.

“Just the fit,” Triss said, dabbing at her eyes again.

Geralt nodded and set to work, silently slipping into the zone, pinning and adjusting and occasionally stepping back and squinting at his work. Jaskier knew that Triss and her entourage were talking, but he didn't even pretend to be paying attention. He was much more content to watch Geralt work, his fingers gliding effortlessly over the fabric as he made the already gorgeous gown look somehow even more phenomenal.

“Alright,” Geralt said, stepping back. “I think that that should be good, spin round for me.”

Triss turned to look in the mirror.

“Does it look okay?” Geralt asked and Triss punched his shoulder again. “Ow!”

“Geralt if you don't stop insulting your frankly quite stunning work, I will have to steal your little demon dog,” she said, looking over the dress in the mirror. “But yes, everything looks good.”

“Roach isn’t a demon,” Geralt pouted, and oh fuck wasn’t that adoreable.

“That fucking dog almost bit my hand off!” Lambert shouted from the bench.

Geralt made several rude gestures at him and Jaskier nearly swooned. Fucking hell he was gone for this man. And it was only the second time that he had seen him.

“Jaskier, can you get her out of the dress?” Geralt asked. “Be careful with all the pins.”

Jaskier nodded, very much at a loss for words.

“C’mon darling,” Jaskier said, tugging the curtain closed behind Geralt again.

He undid the zipper on the back of Triss’s dress and helped tug the dress off her shoulders, mindful of the many pins that Geralt had put in it.

“Have you and Geralt known each other long?” Triss asked.

“Oh, no not at all,” Jaskier said, glad that he was standing behind her and couldn't see the flush of his cheeks. “He helped me with an appointment a few months ago and we went out for drinks after and we’ve been texting occasionally, but that’s it.” He didn’t say that he wished it was more.

“You went out for drinks on the day you first met?” Triss asked, letting her voice rise. “That’s interesting, Geralt doesn’t often go out with people that he’s just met.”

There was a shout from the other side of the curtain, but it was muffled almost immediately, the sound of a hand slapping over someone’s mouth unmistakeable.

“Well, it had been a long day and we were both in need of one. Step out for me, darling,” Jaskier said, picking up the dress and hanging it back up.

“I’m sure you were,” Triss said from behind him as he zipped the dress carefully back into the garment bag. Before he had the chance to ask what she meant, she was opening the curtains and walking back outside to her entourage.

Jaskier picked up the garment bag and followed her.

“It was lovely meeting all of you,” he said, waving to the entourage. “Triss, darling, I hope you have a wonderful wedding and Geralt, it was nice seeing you again.” He turned back down the hall to go hang up the dress for Geralt to deal with later. He should get back upstairs, hopefully nothing too dire had happened in the salon during his absence, even if the break had been nice.

He was just turning to go up the stairs when he saw Geralt walking purposefully towards him, his cane clicking quickly against the floor.

“Jaskier!”

“Oh, hi again!” Jaskier said. “I was just going to head back upstairs, we are still very busy.” He gave Geralt an apologetic smile. There was nothing that he would rather do than stand and talk with Geralt.

Geralt winced. “Then I guess you probably shouldn't have helped me with the appointment.”

“No, no!” Jaskier said quickly. “It was my absolute pleasure, Geralt. And honestly? The salon was driving me a bit insane, so it was quite a nice and much needed break.”

“Well thank you for helping,” Geralt smiled. “I think it went well.”

“It definitely did, darling,” Jaskier said. “She loved the dress, just like I told you she would.”

Geralt rolled his eyes and looked down at his feet, placing both hands on top of his cane. “Actually though, I had something to ask you before you get back to work, if that’s okay. I don’t want to keep you.”

“The only thing you’re keeping me from is crying brides and disapproving mothers, and there is only so much of that that my poor soul can take,” Jaskier said. “I’d rather stay here with you and your-” he cut himself off before he made another terrible slip up. He had already learned his lesson from last time.

“With my magic hands? Or my pretty face?” Geralt asked smugly.

Jaskier sighed, ignoring him. “What was it that you wanted to ask me?”

“I have a plus one for Triss’s wedding next week,” Geralt started.

“And you haven’t asked anyone yet?” Jaskier asked. “Geralt, what have you been doing?”

“...Designing dresses?” he said sheepishly.

Jaskier swore his heart melted. He just looked so cute. How on earth was this allowed?

“Well, you better ask someone,” Jaskier said. “You’re running out of time.”

“Yes I know.” Geralt looked at Jaskier and smiled. “Jaskier, what are you doing next Saturday?”

“Saturday?” Well…” Jaskier trailed off, trying to remember what was coming up. “That is technically my day off, but I might still come in because we have just been so busy and we’re getting a new collection in and I’m going to have to….wait….” his eyes widened as he finally processed what Geralt had been asking him. “Are you….are you asking me..?”

“Would you like to be my plus one to Triss’s wedding?” Geralt asked, his golden eyes somehow sparkling in the atrocious fluorescent lighting.

“ Oh ,” Jaskier gasped. “Yes. Yes I would love to.”

“Great,” Geralt said, breathing an audible sigh of relief. “I’ll pick you up at 1pm. It’s formal. Be ready.”

Oh, Jaskier would be ready alright. He walked back to a salon with a huge smile plastered across his face.

may be a ch 2. havent decided.

tag list:

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@julek

@funkylittlebard

@dani-dandelino

@officerjennie

@kuripon

@alllthequeenshorses

@mothmanismyuncle

@dapandapod

#the witcher #witcher #witcher fic #geralt #jaskier #geraskier #geraskier fic #geralt x jaskier #geraskier fanfic #saph scribbles

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theficplug · 3 years

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ll 𝒾 𝒻𝑜𝓇𝑔𝑜𝓉 𝓉𝑜 𝒷𝑒 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝓁𝑜𝓋𝑒𝓇 ll

Yahya x Black Reader

{a little malcolm & marie loosely, not so loosely inspired fic and after seeing a few things from Yahya. I’ve decided to write this.}

Warnings: none, i think ? possible tw: the brief mention of abandonment issues

Yahya was already padding through your shared cozy modern loft.

His “good shoes'' as he calls them, long forgotten by the welcome mat.

He headed straight to the kitchen to reheat leftovers from the Valentine's Day dinner you prepared for him last night.

“Hors d'oeuvres weren't cutting it baby. And it was dry as hell.” he says jokingly as he turns on the Alexa.

All Night by Beyonce plays softly in the background.

“What’s with you? You’ve barely said two words since we’ve gotten back from the event. You mad?” he asks slinging the blazer over the counter and kicking back against it.

"I'm not angry Yahya. I want to take this tight ass dress off, have a warm shower , and go to bed. Can I do that in peace? " You say to him as you kick off the heels and make your way to the bedroom.

He was right on your trails as he followed you in and crossed his arms.

“You looked beautiful tonight. Look at you.” he compliments

The day of love was supposed to be just that but it felt like it was veering towards the opposite end of the spectrum. You take off your ears placing them in the jewelry holder carefully before sighing and kicking off your heels next.

Yahya reassured you that he’d be home for Valentines Day but instead chose to take the last minute wrap dinner with his castmates and talk with the producers of his current project to secure the role on the next.

You were more than happy for your man after busting his ass and finally securing a major role in the reboot of Candy Man and the newest male lead in his upcoming show. You truly were but it seemed as though for a while now he held no space for you in his chaotic world.

You could feel Yahya eyeing you down as you silently, apart from the occasional huffing and puffy or mumbling little words to yourself.

Yahya stands in the doorway of your bedroom watching you angrily snatch the clothes from the floor and set them aside before unzipping your dress.

He frowns for a second before loosening his tie and contemplating walking over to you and helping you. After unzipping your cherry coloured silk gown the rest of the way his hands caresses slowly from your hips to your back, up your arms and finally settle on your shoulders. Yahya moves your hair curls to the side for a second placing soft kisses on to your neck.

His hands already pulling at the end of your dress to your waist letting his hands wander

He gazes at you for a moment noticing that the stoic expression is still etched across your face.

"So you just gon’ be silent with me the whole night? No congratulatory kisses for your man."

“For.” kiss. “Your.” kiss. “Man.” kiss.

He whispers again against your neck and you move his hands off of you gently.

"What’s up with you?" He asks again this time his voice laced with confusion as he tries to figure out why you've been acting this way since you left the event and the restaurant.

"Nothing. Don't worry about it. I'm just tired. I ended up working all day yesterday since you didn’t come home and now I just want to relax and sleep." You reply before stripping down to just your stockings and grabbing your shower gels and caddy.

"How am I supposed to fix whatever is going on here if you're going to act like this? What's wrong with you?" He asks again this time a little more concerned with the way you brushed him off.

"What's wrong with me? Hmmm, Let's see, I've had to take care of our home and its repairs by myself for the past 8 months. I feel like I’m in a relationship by myself most days. And my fiance drives me to yet another fucking cast dinner . Where he fails to put his castmate in her place when she was clearly flirting with him right in front of his fiancee." You unload and Yahya whips his head around at you to process all of your words.

He cocks his head to the side before scoffing at your accusations.

"So, instead of telling me how you felt you’d rather fucking explode on me on tonight of all nights. When I’ve just landed a record breaking 6 season extension and approval from Netflix. Who basically has the film industry by it’s balls right now. I’m not a mind reader. Baby, I didn’t know that she was going to say all of that. I was trying to be professional and let her make a fool of herself all on her own." He replies and you walk in the bathroom to put all of your things on the counter.

“Oh, I picked you because I knew we would drive the fans absolutely freaking wild. You know we’re just hot and have that chemistry on and off camera to make it you know like, work. Love scenes are easy to portray when you’ve got a man like Yah as your scene partner.” you mock her nasally and obnoxious tone as you pucker your lips mimicking her stiff lip fillers.

"You never do Yahya. Nothing’s ever your fault! The waitress that asked if you could bench press her. The random woman holding onto your arm at the “celebratory dinner” in Denmark. I saw the pictures. You can have your head tossed back laughing hysterically with her but you can't even pick up the phone and see how your fiancee is holding up in the first winter without you here.``

"That’s not fair. It was dinner. The director’s daughter. A dinner that he attended too. What do you want me to say? "No I'll sit this one out because my girl doesn't want me to talk to other people because she still hasn't learned to deal with her insecurities and projects them onto everything I do"." he retorts and you stare him in the eye before tears well in yours.

The silence falls over both of you as you stare him down. He was really standing here bringing out things you've told him during past pillow talks.

You stare at each other in the mirror and he immediately wraps his arms around you to apologize and kiss all over your shoulder and face.

"No, You tell them that I can count on one hand how many months out of the year we spent together last year. You tell them that my girl had to spend Christmas watching everyone else get loved on and share the holiday cheer while I got to watch you skii over facetime. You tell them my girl made a beautiful steak dinner last night and got me tickets to watch my favourite fucking team for VaIentine’s Day, but I’d rather spend it talk about an old white guy’s scripts. I thought about breaking up with you around Thanksgiving before you came home. I blamed it on the distance, you know. I just felt that way because I only ever got to see you over facetime for what seemed like an hour or 2 a day. I said that when you came home everything would be okay again. I think that I may have been wrong. There’s two people in this relationship. But I also feel as though I may be holding onto something that's just not there." you tell him before grabbing your things out of his hands and stepping into the shower.

Yahya swallowed hard and looked down at you for a moment, his jaw going slack for a second but his pride not letting him admit that he may have been in the wrong.

"You didn’t tell me none of this. When I call you and I ask you how are you feeling? You always say it’s fine , it’s fine, everything’s fine. I mean we knew the kind of lives we lived when we got on this ride together. You traveled. I traveled. We traveled together. That’s how it was until you decided that acting wasn’t for you. I’m not abandoning you bae. That’s not what’s happening here." Yahya explains as he starts his skincare routine.

You let the warm water wash over you and the coils of your hair as you peel off the lashes and let out a long sigh.

Yahyah knew that one of your things was that you didn’t want to feel like a burden or to feel like you’ve been forgotten but this rough spat felt different.

"I wanted you. I wanted you to hold me and tell me you loved me and that I looked pretty for once."

"You always look pretty though. You know that."

“Happy Anniversary, Yahya.” you say quietly and you can hear him let out a drawn out “damn it” as he washes the cleanser off his face and looks up at you through the fogged glass.

He drops his head slighly as he stands at the door before openingn it. .

“I’m going to fix all of this. I love you and I want you to know that I’m sorry. You are the last person in my life that I wanna lose or hurt. I need you to know that I’m still the one you can turn to. You’re still the one I wanna experience this life with. Your greatest joys and highs. Your sad days when you just need to be held. The days where we lay together in bed and I can hear your heartbeat. Probably the cheesiest shit you've ever heard but it's my favourite sound I mean you calling out my name is a close second but that one is my favourite.” he reassures. He relaxes against your touch when you turn to face him and wrap your arms around him.

Yahya embraces you, unphased by the fact that his shirt and pants are getting soaked.

“Now that I’m thinking about it. I’ve fallen in love with you over and over again. There’s so many layers to you. It’s everyday I’m falling in love with something new about you. Even on days like this. First time I fell in love with you. We were sitting at this coffee shop tapping your pencil against a notepad. You had Diary by Alicia Keys stuck in your head and you kept singing parts of the song to me throughout the day. You had this pretty floral pattern type of baby blue dress that fell off your shoulders. You wore your grandmother’s ring cause you said it always calms your nerves to have her there with you when you auditioned. Nobody had even heard of me before. I was going for some feature film role. At the time you were going for a recurring role on the Young & The Restless or some show like that. I remember you were reading the script and you let out a laugh. It was your laugh. The loud remedy of it curing the butterflies in my stomach. The little patch of the 4c bangs in the front, the rest of your hair slicked back into a puff. I loved the way that it framed your lil round face. The gold hoops against your deep beautiful brown skin. I liked the way you did your makeup. With the lil highlight at the tip of your nose. It made you look like a lil fairy...I proposed to you that day. After 6 months of knowing you. Baby it was you, everything about you. You were laughing at having dump iced coffee all over your scene partner’s head but I was smiling because I knew. I was like so this is what made all them oldheads sing like that in the blues songs my daddy used to play. I wanted to be in it for the long haul. And I still do. I know I got a lot of making up to do. But I want you to know that I see you. I see you and I’m going to do what I need to do to make everything more than just alright. I love you.”

You let his words soak in as he cupped your face and you nodded along to his words. After helping him strip off his drenched clothes he steps into the shower with you where you embraced him in your arms gain.

“You’ve always told me that you knew early on but you never told me. I love you too, you know. It’s just you know how I am more than anybody. I know that your dreams are finally coming true and you deserve that. I don’t want to stand in the way of that. But I still find a way to balance my work and our relationship. I just want you to meet me in the middle.” you say against his lips before capturing his plump lips in a kiss.

“I’m gonna fix it..” He reassures you in between kisses

“We’ve still got 3 hours left of our anniversary. Our record is 5. We can still try to break that” you whisper in his ear-

( i don’t know what this is lol. sorry I didn’t get any valentines posts up. i had a whole migraine and have had more low days than up in the past weeks but we keep going. i hoped you like this little, i dont know what to call it. i dont really know how to write fluff lol so here’s the angst.)

#yahya abdul mateen ii #yahya x black reader #fanfic for black girls

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everythingsinred · 3 years

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Let's Talk About NatsuMikan: Natsume (pt. 27)

The closer we get to the end, the more nervous I am, and maybe you are too, because things are going to go horribly awry and only suffering is to come. Fate is adamant that a specific twelve year old must die, and we really have no choice but to watch it all unfold.

In this part, we will discuss the chapters building up to the New Year's Concert, where Reo will attempt to assassinate the ESP.

Chapter One Hundred and Forty-Six

Ruka finds Natsume in the snow. He asks where he’s been, and Natsume responds that he went to see Mikan. Natsume imagines that Ruka will be jealous, because he feels guilty. He’d been putting his own wants first this whole night, and he hadn’t even considered Ruka.

Expectation vs. Reality. Ruka, best boy.

But Ruka is not jealous, or he’s very good at hiding it. He beams at Natsume, offering only congratulations and support. He’s happy for them, that both of their wishes came true. In fact, Ruka was also wishing for it, that Mikan and Natsume could find each other.

Natsume apologizes, because Ruka’s cheerful support only makes him feel more guilty, but he doesn’t tell him for what. He will not recount the details of the night, particularly of the many kisses shared between him and Mikan.

There’s a happy moment between Natsume and Ruka until, of course, Natsume starts coughing violently. He coughs up blood again, and when Ruka asks him if he’s okay, he’s ready to downplay it, already hiding his hand so that his best friend won’t worry. But Ruka grabs his hand and looks at the blood on the glove, and there’s a somber moment between them. Natsume tries to talk, but Ruka knows he’s just going to try and downplay it again, so he interrupts.

The best friendship in all of fiction. I stand by this forever. You can't change my mind.

Ruka has watched Natsume suffer the whole time they’ve been at the academy, even before then. He might not have had all the details, but he’s known that Natsume’s life was agony. He was helpless, and even became a burden (in his own view, not Natsume’s). He pleads with Natsume not to hide from him anymore. They’re meant to be best friends, and all Ruka has ever wanted was to be Natsume’s support system, but Natsume shut him out in the guise of protecting him. He keeps all his pain locked away and deals with it on his own.

Watching someone you love suffer and not being able to do anything about it is a tremendous pain, Ruka says. Natsume must sympathize. He will say something similar later on about Mikan’s situation.

Ruka loves Natsume. Natsume might have thought that he dragged his only friend into a bottomless pit of despair but Ruka asserts he’s never once regretted following him to the academy, not even for a second.

Ruka is confessing now. Natsume must know now that his existence is important to at least two people who love him unconditionally, but he doesn’t internalize it. Maybe he can’t. He’s too stuck in the role of martyr that straying from it would go against the very fabric of his own identity. He exists and has always existed to protect others. Protecting himself or even considering himself doesn’t align with that identity. No matter how much Mikan and Ruka plead with him to keep himself safe, he can’t abide. They’re more important than he is. He fails to see how much heartbreak and sorrow he will leave in his wake of self-destruction.

Natsume can’t internalize it. He can’t take it in and change course. It’s too late for that, in his mind. But he can tell Ruka the truth, because supporting Natsume is all Ruka wants.

He confesses too. He’s afraid. He doesn’t like thinking about the future, not even a year from now, because he’s scared he’ll be dead by then.

He says his secret fear out loud, that he won’t be able to protect her, and it’s still so heart-breaking that he still only sees his own value in how much he can protect people. He will shorten his own life to get her out of the darkness she’s ended up in. He doesn’t see worth in his existence just for the sake of living, of breathing, of smiling and laughing and crying and existing. Instead, his value is conditional. He is only so good as he is able to protect others and when he can’t anymore, then he is no longer valuable. It’s a glaring sign of a ridiculously low self-esteem.

He wants to choose life! He wants to live! Oh, this makes it worse...

But something has changed. He doesn’t want to die. He wants to live and be with her forever. He can’t be with her if he’s dead. It’s a selfish thought, and as I’ve been saying, that’s a wonderful thing. If only that selfish impulse were stronger, than maybe things wouldn’t be so doomed in the coming week. But Natsume’s ingrained martyr complex is stronger than anything, and his new flicker of selfishness doesn’t stand a chance.

Ruka promises he’ll do anything to support Natsume and Mikan’s future together. And so Natsume asks Ruka to protect Mikan if he’s no longer able to.

I personally don’t think he’s handing Mikan over here. This whole conversation’s context is specifically about protecting Mikan, and how Natsume wants only to keep her safe, even at the expense of his own life (though he’s actually more cavalier with that than he lets on, so it’s not much of an “even”, is it?). If Natsume is dead, he wants somebody he trusts to watch over her and prioritize her as he has. Who better than Ruka, who loves Mikan too and will want to keep her safe as well?

Or. You could just. Not die. Just a thought.

Natsume has never treated Mikan as an object to be won. He’s in fact made several comments about not “competing” at all. If he was able to give Mikan to Ruka, those two would be together now already and Natsume wouldn’t be the one holding Mikan’s alice stone. He is not any more capable of giving her away then he’s been before, and he’s less motivated to now than he’s ever been. Mikan is his, after all. Why would he “give her away” so soon after promising to be together forever?

He’s only concerned with Mikan’s safety and freedom here. If he dies in the pursuit of that, which he will, then someone else needs to make sure she’s safe and free. What she does with that safety and freedom is not in his or Ruka’s or anyone’s hands. I imagine Natsume, who got jealous of Mikan thinking of all her important people when making her alice stone would also get jealous at the thought of Mikan falling in love with somebody after his death. It might occur in the distant future, but it probably wouldn’t be any fun to imagine.

You may disagree with me, but I just can’t see it that way. I just don’t see it.

Chapter One Hundred and Forty-Seven

It’s New Year’s. Mikan’s birthday. There’s a celebration happening in the dorms, just like last year, but Natsume isn’t dressed in traditional garb to welcome the new year and feast like all the other students.

Instead, he’s waiting for Narumi in a hallway.

He wants all the information he can get, so he can get Mikan out of her cage sooner. Narumi isn’t talking, always willing to act dumb to get out of things. But Natsume knows better. He saw Narumi in the flashbacks, and knows how much Narumi loved Yuka. He would’ve done anything for her, even if it resulted in his own death. Narumi should understand how Natsume feels, then. He knows Mikan is suffering and in danger, but he can’t do anything about it. He says something to the effect that he shouldn’t even be living at this point, again reiterating that his life only has value if he’s able to protect people, particularly Mikan. If he’s unable to do that, then he might as well die. There’s really no difference, he says.

Jeez, kid, relax.

Narumi tries to point out that Natsume is dying, as if perhaps the kid is unaware of this, but Natsume grabs him and declares that he will not end up like him. Natsume seems to understand Narumi (probably more than I can! Haha) and that his life has been empty and soulless for a long time. Narumi is full of regret and has been for years, but Natsume won’t be like that. He won’t live with regret. He’ll do anything he can to save Mikan, and he’ll die without a single regret. He also claims he won’t give up on the idea of sharing a future with Mikan, and that makes the inevitable doom of their romance all the more tragic. Natsume isn’t planning on dying. He’s not imagining that he doesn’t even have a full two days left to live. He’s thinking he’ll push himself to the end of his rope, save Mikan, and then live happily ever after. It’s naive and childish and ridiculous that he really believes he can have his cake and eat it too, but he does with his whole heart.

"I want to live," is enough for me. I stopped reading after that. LET THIS KID LIVE.

Natsume tells Narumi to stop underestimating him for his age. But Narumi agrees: he doesn’t want Natsume or any of the other kids to end up like him and his generation did. He wants things to be better, for the new generation to have a happy and hopeful future to look forward to instead of surrendering to a life of misery and regret.

Chapter One Hundred and Forty-Nine

Natsume and Ruka are something like partners-in-crime now. They both know that taking out the ESP is the only way to free Mikan. They are spying on Reo, who has come under the guise of performing for the New Year’s concert, who spills that Z wants to assassinate the ESP.

Tsubasa and Tono quickly join the conversation, although they’re somewhat unwanted.

Reo keeps talking, and now all four of them are privy to his plan. Tono scolds Natsume for trying to get involved when it’s obvious Z is already on the case. Let them do it, he says. Keep yourself safe instead of putting everything on your own shoulders. Naturally, this is Natsume we’re talking about, so no amount of logic will get into his head, but it was worth a try, Tono.

Natsume's little face here is my favorite. His little angry expressions are always the highlight of any page.

Hearing this warning, Natsume can see the sense in it. He doesn’t want to leave his fiancee alone and heart-broken by his loss (more proof that he doesn’t really believe he’ll die) tomorrow, but to his horror, Koko was reading his thoughts aloud.

Natsume is embarrassed to be put on the spot, and he didn’t want to hurt Ruka’s feelings, so he takes out his anger on Koko. Then he punishes Tsubasa for teasing him about how fast he’s going with Mikan when Tsubasa is actually just slow with Misaki. Then it’s revealed that Tsubasa did finally confess to Misaki and got the answer he wanted, which only pisses Natsume off more, inexplicably. He’d be angry either way, just because it’s Tsubasa. He probably just wants to take the focus off himself and the fact that he’s already proposed to Mikan.

Tsubasa was in fact inspired by Natsume’s commitment to protecting Mikan. He confessed because his kouhai was so determined. But he also expresses concern for Natsume’s recklessness. Protecting people is a worthwhile pursuit, but so is valuing your own life. Other people depend on him and love him, and losing would hurt. He doesn’t have to do everything on his own. Working as a team can ensure his safety and keep him living longer. They’re all on the same page, after all, so why not join forces and get it done more efficiently without Natsume being the martyr again?

Yeah, Natsume, go to therapy. Like, yesterday.

But as the group splits up, Ruka holds Natsume still. He wants to talk about what happened on Christmas, but Natsume doesn’t. He’d rather keep that to himself, not at all willing to hurt Ruka’s feelings after he’s been nothing but supportive.

But he can’t lie, and Ruka has expressed interest in hearing all the truthbombs Natsume can dish out, so he comes clean. They exchanged alice stones. It looks like it pains Natsume to admit it. He’s consumed by guilt for the role he’s played in hurting Ruka. But Ruka is still just happy for him. He again offers congratulations, and all is well until Koko announces that Natsume and Mikan kissed a lot too. Apparently, Natsume has been thinking about the kisses so often and shamelessly to the point that Koko is concerned.

Ruka gets upset, but not out of jealousy. He hits Natsume rather pathetically, adamantly demanding that he be honest and tell him everything instead of keeping secrets all the time. Ruka doesn’t care that Natsume has been “selfish” and has kissed Mikan and gotten engaged with her and met with her. He is a fan! He’s Team NatsuMikan now too! He just wants Natsume to stop lying to him, not even to spare his feelings. If Natsume can’t be honest, then Ruka can’t do his job of supporting him. Friendship is a two-way street and can’t work if the friends can’t rely on each other for help and support. Going through good and tough times together is the key to any lasting relationship, and for that to work Natsume needs to talk to him instead of holding back.

Ruka is so cute here. Absolutely adorable. I shall adopt.

Natsume apologizes and the chapter ends on a light note, with the four of them teasing each other and laughing.

But tomorrow will be a different story. Many horrible things will happen tomorrow night, and the bright future Natsume has finally allowed himself to consider will burn up and die.

Conclusion

In the Rapunzel story, the prince was blinded and forced to walk around the forest unable to look for his lost love. I imagine that's why the chapter title image for Chapter 147 has his face covered in bandages. The story of Rapunzel is a tragic one, but it ends in a happily-ever-after. The consolation we have is that the story of NatsuMikan is more like the story of Rapunzel than of Romeo and Juliet, though it certainly doesn't feel like it for the next thirty-something chapters.

I didn't reread this at all before posting because I'm really tired. Thus, I claim no ownership over any mistakes. They can't be helped.

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kpop---scenarios · 3 years

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Into The Night (2)

Pairing: Kai x Reader

Warnings: Unprotected Smut, Angst,

Word Count: 6.9k

A/N: I'm sorry!!

As the rain pours down, it soaks you but you have a hard time finding the urge to care. You watch the staircase from in front of your car, waiting for the man you love, the man you hoped loved you enough to come chase after you. You desperately wanted him to tell you that you were enough for him and that he had enough of the business that was taking so much from him.

But he never came.

A part of you must have known he wouldn't give it up, not for you. It wasn't as though you were anything special anyway. You were you, and he was a god, someone who deserved more than just you.

You closed your eyes and for a moment imagined what it would have been like had he chased you. Kai running down the stairs, into the rain to take you in his arms and tell you how much he loved you and needed you, that you were first, that you were enough.

But instead, you got into your car soaked and cried hard while driving to your apartment. Maybe he didn't love you as much as you thought he did. Maybe you truly weren't enough for him.

Day by day, you stared at your phone, reading the last text he had sent you before you left. It was the last time he had typed out the words you wished you could hear from his lips right now, even if you don't deserve them.

"I love you."

You can still hear the faint whispers of him saying the words in your head, but as time goes on the whispers get quieter and quieter, slowly fading away.

Every week something changed, for the better, and you noticed yourself becoming yourself again. You stopped agonizing over the fact that he hadn't texted you, then you stopped caring that he hadn't called you. If he had been the man you thought he was, he would have reached out, maybe tried to explain himself. But he didn't, so maybe he wasn't the man for you.

A month had gone by and you started going to coffee shops with your friends, finally getting out of the house.

Six months had gone by and you were washing your hair and doing your makeup, feeling like yourself again.

A year later, you were thriving. You had a great group of friends, you were putting yourself out there with guys and you had just been promoted at work, which tonight, this wonderful Friday, you were celebrating with your group of friends at a new club in the city.

"I will be there soon." You laugh into the speaker, looking out the window of the cab to see where you were. "Promise, like two minutes away." You tell Moonbyul, pressing the end call button.

The cab driver pulls up to the club and you see Moonbyul, Wheein and Solar waiting outside for you.

"Fucking finally." Moonbyul groans, pulling you in for a hug. The others join in, congratulating you on your promotion.

"Come." Wheein squeals. "I got us the best table." She finishes, pulling you inside the club.

You walk in and it's jam-packed with people. You squeeze her arm as you navigate through the massive amounts of bodies, finally settling at a table with your three best friends.

"First." Solar pauses. "Shots." She smiles as four shots are delivered to your table.

"That was cool." You laugh.

The four of you down your shots.

"Next," Wheein says. "More shots." Another round is placed on your table, one in front of each of you.

The four of you take your shots again.

Half an hour later, you had already done four shots and had two drinks, and to say you were feeling it would be an understatement.

"I'm going.." hiccup. "To the bathroom." You giggle, ungracefully sliding from your chair and stumbling your way to the bathroom. You close your eyes for a split second as you walk past the bar, trying to ease the spinning when you bump into a hard chest.

You open your eyes and look up, immediately thinking your eyes are playing tricks on you. You blink a few times before stumbling back, shaking your head slightly and looking back up at the man.. the man you once loved.

"Kai?" You whispered.

"Ayn.." he says. "It's good to see you."

"Yeah.. um, you too." You say, unsure of really what to say. There were a few things you had planned to say to him had you ever actually run into him but you truly never thought that situation would arise.

"How have you been?" You ask.

Not what you wanted to say.

"Good, good." He smiles that radiant smile that just melts your heart. "I quit the business." He says.

Your heart drops.

"When?" You ask, a little confused.

"About nine months ago." He answers.

You scoff.

"So three months after you let me run out because you were never going to give it up?" You ask. You can feel the anger rising inside of you.

"I.. well, Hwasa helped me realize." He says. Seconds later a gorgeous woman slides her manicured hand over his shoulder as he wraps his arm around her waist.

You look at Kai confused, and heartbroken all over again.

"Hi, I'm Hwasa, Kai's fiancee." She purrs, holding out her hand with a big diamond ring on the right finger.

"Fiancee?" You breathe. "I tried.. for you.. and I wasn't good enough.. but you knew her for three months and she got you to quit and propose? What the fuck was I? Did you even love me?" You yell.

"Ayn.. let's not do this here.." Kai says, looking uncomfortable.

"No, I'm not doing anything... I’m...I can't breathe." You cry, turning around to stumble from the crowded building. You burst through the door, the cool outside air hitting you hard as you gasp for breath.

Kai, the man you loved was now with someone else, someone who seemed worthy of him, not to mention he left.. he left the business behind. The one that you weren't good enough for him to leave. You weren't good enough to fight for apparently.

With your feet dragging, you walk the long-distance home, ignoring the buzzing of your cellphone as you try to keep the tears from falling. You lost.

The next morning you woke up, feeling as though a train had smashed into your life - oh wait, it did. You recall the events of last night and how your heart was shattered for a second time by the same man, in less than a year. You grab your phone, looking at the time, 11:34 am. Before you set your phone down, it buzzes an incoming message. You open your messages and your heart drops as you immediately recognize the phone number.

Kai.

[11:35 am] 17362592474: I'm sorry about that. Can we talk?

It took all you had in you to not call him and scream at him. He's sorry about that, he's sorry? For what exactly? The fact that he didn't come after you, or the fact that he got engaged so quickly after leaving you shattered and a shell of the person you were before.

You threw your phone to the corner of your room. You couldn't deal with this today. So instead of answering him back, you went about your Saturday. You went for a jog but you never did stop thinking about the woman, Hwasa who was so perfect and seemed so perfect for him. They were a gorgeous couple, one of those couples who should be featured in all the magazines. You didn't compare to her, clearly.

That night you stayed in, ignoring the ringing of your phone that still sat in the corner of your room and instead binge-watched the saddest kdramas you could find and cried, while also stuffing your face.

You woke up Sunday feeling terribly bloated, with an even worse headache but none of that compared to how your heart felt. As much as you didn't want to admit it, as much as this would absolutely fuck with all the progress you made in the last you, you still loved him. Seeing him Friday night confirmed that, you would still forgive him if you had the chance.

Now you spent the rest of your Sunday agonizing over a decision you needed to make.

Text him back, or ignore it?

Monday morning you sat at your desk, chewing on your fingernail as you stared at the message on your phone that you had read almost a thousand times over.

Can we talk?

Sure, you wanted to talk, you had a lot of things you wanted to say to him. You grabbed your phone, typing the message before throwing it on your desk and trying to focus on some work.

[10:12 am] You: Sure. Let's talk. 6 pm, my place. I'd rather this not be public. *Address*

[10:14 am] 17362592474: See you then, Ayn.

You roll your eyes at his reply. Boy, was he going to get an ear full.

You paced in front of your door, checking your phone every 3 seconds. Time was moving so slowly as you waited for Kai to show up. You ran lines through your head, planning out exactly what you were going to say to him. You were ready and prepared to go off.

You checked your phone again.

5:59 pm

Knock

Knock.

You stood in front of your door and took a deep breath before opening it. You almost gasped at the sight of him. He looked so good, but seriously, he had the audacity to look that good and show up here? What the fuck.

"Hi, Ayn." He smiles. "Are you going to let me in?" He asks.

"Oh." You say, coming out of your trance. You open the door wider, allowing him to come in before closing the door behind you.

"Nice place." He says, looking around. You lean against the door, your arms crossed as you try to remember the first thing you wanted to say.

"Thanks." You whisper.

That wasn't it.

"Hwasa and I are on a break." He begins. "Look, I'm really sor.." he started to say before you cut him off.

"Don't." You yell, raising your hands to your ears. "I don't want to hear that you're sorry." You spit. "Sorry doesn't make up the fact that you didn’t chase me. Sorry doesn't make up for the fact that you met someone 3 months after you let me walk out of your life like I was nothing, and then you got engaged! You really are.." you say before now he cut you off, this time with his lips.

You hadn't even noticed him walking towards you until his lips were pressed against yours. Your eyes are still wide open as you realize what's happening. You place your hands on his shoulders, pushing him away. You're shocked as you gently touch your lips before raising your hand and slapping him.

You look at him, up and down before grabbing his collar and pulling him back to you, latching your lips onto his. He wraps his arms around you pulling you in close. He backs up, pushing you against your door as he hikes up your skirt, his knee pressed in between your legs. You break the kiss and his lips travel to your neck, your hands now in between the two of you, unbuckling his belt. He shimmies his pants down, along with his boxers, his cock springing free.

Kai places his hands behind your legs, picking you up and pressing you against the door once again. He lines up his cock before pushing himself into you with a gasp as his head rests in the crook of your neck. Your hands-on his shoulders as he thrusts himself into you, making you moan loudly.

"Fuck." He grunts, his fingertips digging into the back of your legs as he fucks you. Your hand moves to his hair, running your fingers through his locks as he hits all the right spots, your clit being rubbed perfectly.

You can feel his hot breath on your neck, his lips pressing a kiss as you cry out, loudly.

"Just like that." You moan as your orgasm builds. "Don't stop." You cry, your fingers gripping tightly onto his hair.

"Cum for me, please." He begs, you wrap your arms around his neck as your orgasm flows through your body, making you scream.

Kai thrusts faster as he chases his high, spilling himself into you. "Oh god." He moans as he thrusts lightly, coming down from his high.

You're both still for a moment, Kai still inside you as you both breathe heavily. "Shit." He whispers, pulling out. "That was a mistake." He says, pulling up his pants and buckling his belt back up.

"What?" You ask, tears now brimming in your eyes.

"No, that's not what I meant." He tries to assure you. "I meant the timing was a mistake, not you, never you." He says.

"No, I get it. I wasn't good enough for you then, why would I be good enough for you now." You spit. "Get out."

"Ayn.. please. It's not what I meant. I miss you!" He pleads.

"Get out now!" You cry. The tears roll down your cheeks as he looks at you with such despair, to just listen to him. You don't care. You were a mistake.

You storm towards your window, pushing it open as you struggle to catch your breath. How could you be so stupid as to let him fuck you, let him back into your life like that?

This was a mistake

I miss you.

Did he though? Did he miss you?

You let out a loud and frustrated grunt as you swiftly moved around your apartment, rage cleaning. How could you let him come up here and taint your fresh, drama and Kai free space? Bad Ayn.

Heading for your cabinets, you reach for your favourite cleaner, the one that smells like happiness to you and you begin your work. You scrub your door, cleaning away the sweat, the reminder that you let him fuck you against your door. You wash your floors, making sure to clean where he stood extra hard.

When you were finally satisfied with your house and the cleanliness and freshness of your place, you went to take care of yourself, spending an absurd amount of time in the shower. You used different soaps especially on your neck, you washed your hair a few times and your fingers, trying desperately to get the smell of him off of you, trying to get the feeling of being called a mistake off of you.

After your shower, you sat in your robe, in a chair in the living room, your finger hovering over the cold button on your cell phone. You needed to call Jisoo and tell her about this but you were slightly nervous about her reaction. You closed your eyes and pressed the call button and took a few deep breaths as you listened to the sound of the phone ringing.

"Heeelloooooo." She answers in a singing voice.

"I did a thing." You whisper into the phone.

"A thing? Ooh, what kind of thing?" She asks.

"A bad thing." You reply.

"Do tell." She says excitedly.

"I accidentally..slept with Kai." You whisper.

She says nothing.

"I'm sorry. WHAT?" She gasps. "Kai? As in, you just got over Kai? That Kai?"

"That Kai, yes." You whisper.

"Giiiiiirl." She screams. "So you're back together? I always loved the two of you together."

"He has a fiancee." You whisper.

"I'm sorry again, WHAT?" She says. "And you still fucked him?"

"Well, he said they're on a break." You nervously laugh.

"Shit girl. How do you feel?" She asks.

"He said it was a mistake. The timing was a mistake but all I heard was I'm a mistake." You answer.

"What'd you do?"

"Kicked him out." You laugh.

"Yas best friend, you go best friend." She laughs. "But in all seriousness, are you okay?"

"I don't know." You respond. "I still love him, and I know I could forgive him but I don't know if I should. He broke me, and it took a long time to fix that and then he's got this new girl, and shit.. what do I do, Ji?" You sigh.

"This is something you have to figure out for yourself. I can’t be the one to tell you what to do, as much as I would like to, this is you." She responds.

"Thanks, Ji." You say before hanging up the phone. She was right, you had a lot of thinking to do but also, you really need to talk to Kai.

Kai sat on his couch with his head thrown back as he replayed this evening's events through his head, over and over again. He will admit, he shouldn't have kissed you but it couldn't help it. He really had missed you. He stared at your lips as you yelled at him and he thought about kissing you, then bam, he was doing it and he didn't want it to stop, but then you slapped him and kissed him back and everything escalated from there.

He lets out a loud groan as he thinks about his life and where he was now, he felt like he was going insane. Everything was so fucked up, and in all honesty, it was his fault. Had he just gone after you, none of this would have happened. You would be here, laying in his arms, and you both would be happy but instead, you're broken and it's his fault and he's still in love with you.

Kai thinks back to that day, the one when he let you get away and fuck does he ever wish he could have a redo of that day. The amount of shame he felt for what he did was indescribable.

"Either you want it, or you don't. So let me know." You finished before walking away, and Kai stood there. He couldn't move as you closed the door behind you. He was hurt, angry and ashamed. You were so much more important than his business and he wanted to tell you that, but his pride wouldn't let him. He wanted you to be more understanding of his job and realize that it was just that, a job. So he waited.

He waited for you to return, he waited for a text, a phone call, something - anything but it never came. He thought maybe you needed time but as the weeks went by he slowly began to realize that you had left him and it hurt. It had been too long now, he couldn't crawl back so maybe you would. If he was lucky, you would be the one to reach out to him.

One night he had gone to a restaurant - alone. He ordered a glass of wine, and his meal and sat in silence as he watched the happy couples smile and laugh. He wanted that, with you. As he was lost in thought someone tripped beside him, dropping a purse. He knelt down to help and when he looked at the woman, he was shocked, she was breathtaking but nothing compared to you.

Maybe that's what he needed, a distraction, someone to help him get over you. She smiled at him and he smiled back. "Thank you for your help." She says.

"No problem. Are you okay?" He asks, seeing the tears in her eyes.

"Terrible date." She sniffles.

"Would you like to join me…" he pauses.

"Hwasa." She smiles.

"Would you like to join me Hwasa?" He asks.

"I would love to.." she pauses.

"Kai."

"Yes, Kai, I would love to "

A few months later he was looking at the engagement ring he had bought, that was supposed to be for you and Hwasa had caught him, immediately screaming yes and crying. She was so happy. So he slid the ring on her finger and decided to keep it to himself. A few weeks later, he handed the business over to Baekhyun, not because Hwasa had convinced him like she thought but because he worried she would try to take it over.

Kai was a little in over his head with her, especially when he couldn't stop thinking about you but he just couldn't bring himself to end it with Hwasa. He felt guilty, it had been too long now, maybe he was stuck. Maybe this is what he deserved, his karma for not chasing you.

A few days later, you glanced at the clock as you finished your paperwork, it was 9 pm. You let out a big yawn, stretching out your arms. There was a faint knock at your door, so you finished your stretch as you walked over to see who was here so late. You looked through the peephole and saw Kai standing there swaying. Your heart was in your stomach, you most definitely weren't prepared for this.

With a shaky hand, you turned the doorknob and opened the door slightly. "What are you doing here?" You ask, looking both ways down the hallway.

"I fucking miss you," Kai yells. "Please let me in." He begs.

You can hear your neighbours beginning to get annoyed, so you opened the door fully and grabbed Kai by his shirt to drag him in.

"You can't just show up here like this." You say, crossing your arms. "You're engaged." You finish, those last few words felt so bitter coming out of your mouth.

"I'm not… I'm not engaged." Kai says, walking closer to you. He pulls you in, just holding you but your arms are still crossed. "Please.. hold me back." He whispers.

As a tear rolls down your cheek, you uncross your arms holding onto him tightly. The two of you stand there for a moment, you take in his smell, remembering what he used to smell like. It's the same, but whiskey added tonight.

"Come." You whisper, letting go of him, and pulling him towards your shower. You run the hot water as he stands there. "There are towels in here." You say pointing to the cabinet. "I'll have some clothes for you when you're done." You finish, leaving the bathroom to let him do his thing.

He's not in there for very long. A few minutes later you look up to see him standing there with his towel wrapped around his waist with water dripping from his hair. You bite your lip at the sight of him, taking a deep breath and remembering you can't. You can't do that.

"Here." You whisper, handing him some old clothes of his that you never got rid of. You felt a little ashamed to have kept them this long but it was something you could get over. You turn around as he drops his towel, you can hear him sigh as he slides on his clothes

"Done." He says, his voice low and shaky.

"You need to sleep this off." You say, opening your bed covers. Kai crawls in, scooting over for you.

"Please?" He asks, patting the open space beside him.

"I can't." You whisper. "I'll be on the couch." You finish, walking away and turning out the lights as you make your way to the couch.

Kai wakes up startled. He sits up in bed, confused about where he is, he looks over at the clock, it reads 4:49 am and then he remembers. He came to your house, you hugged him back, put him in the shower and tucked him in. You were so good.

Kai crawls out of bed, feeling his way out of your room and making his way to the living room.

He walks in and sees you curled up on the couch, a small piece of your hair covering your face. He smiles at how peaceful and happy you look in your sleep. He misses watching you sleep at night, just looking at you and feeling so unbelievably grateful that you were his. Kai bends down, scooping you up in his arms and bringing you to your bed. He places you down, covering your shivering body as he crawls in beside you, making sure to leave space between you two. He wished he could wrap his arm around you and fall asleep with his face buried in the crook of your neck, but instead he fell back asleep with his face buried in your pillow and tears rolling down his cheeks.

That morning you wake up, feeling extra warm. You stretch out your back, pushing out your ass and you're met with something hard pushed up against you. Your eyes shoot open as you feel a hand sliding over your stomach, pulling you in closer. You shouldn't be doing this but fuck, you missed him, you missed this and everything that came with it.

A few minutes couldn't hurt. So you snuggled back into him, relishing in the feeling of being held by him again, his strong arms wrapped around you, making you feel like the safest person in the world. Your personality made a bit of a flip and you began scooting your ass back a little more, lightly grinding yourself on his cock.

"Mhmm." He groans, pushing himself against your ass harder. "Goodmorning." He says, his voice husky and quiet.

"Goodmorning." You whisper.

"Can I.. just." He pauses, pushing himself into you further. You weren't sure what came over you, maybe it was the trance that you always seem to be in around him but you opened your legs, giving Kai the invitation to enter.

He lets out a loud groan as he moves to pull his sweats and boxers down, his cock ready as it drips precum. You open your legs a little more, letting him move your panties to the side before he slides himself inside you, stretching out your pussy.

"Fuck." You whimper as he slides in and out of you slowly, making you crave more. He pulls up your shirt, exposing your bare breasts before cupping one, twiddling your nipple between his fingers.

You reach your hand down between your legs, pressing down on your throbbing clit before gently rubbing as Kai continues to thrust inside of you. His face is pressed into your neck, nipping gently as his hot breath flows over you.

"I've missed you." He breathes. "Your scent, your face, your body, your pussy, everything about you." He groans. Kai continues to fuck you, his hand leaving your breast to move up, wrapping around your neck. He lightly squeezes, making you moan loudly as your orgasm builds.

"I missed you." You cry out, rubbing yourself faster, needing your release.

Kai's hand around your neck tightens as you both cum, your body squirming as he fills you up. You both lay there, breathing, taking a moment. He releases your neck but instead of moving away from you, holds you closely for a few minutes.

Kai springs out of bed a few minutes later, pulling on a shirt before finding his shoes. "Shit." He panics.

"What are you doing?" You ask, very confused.

"I have to go to work. I'm already late." He chuckles. "I will text you." He says, kissing you gently on the cheek before running out the door, leaving you standing there with his cum dripping down your leg.

"Rude." You scoff, making your way to shower. Before you get in you text Jisoo, asking her to lunch because now, you have more news.

She texts back immediately confirming and telling you she can't wait.

"Again!?" Jisoo yells, throwing her hands up in the air while you hide behind your hands. "You slept with him, again." She sighs.

"It was a.." you begin.

"I will cut you if you say it was a mistake." Jisoo threatens. "Look, you guys need to chat about what the fuck is happening because you have me confused."

"You're confused? I'm also confused." You sigh, taking a sip of your drink.

"Excuse me." You hear from beside you. You look up and see a very handsome man standing in front of your table. "I'm sorry to bother you, but I just thought you were stunning and wanted to give you my number. If you are interested in a date, call me, if not at least I know I gave it a shot." He smiles, placing a napkin in front of you before walking away.

You and Jisoo laugh as you slip the note into your purse. Considering how things were going with Kai, you didn't think you would need it. You finished your lunch with Jisoo and said goodbye before you went on a stroll and headed back to your apartment. You thought about your morning with Kai and smiled like an idiot as you skipped down the sidewalk, feeling like you were on top of the world.

As you neared your apartment, you decided to stop and grab an iced coffee, maybe even a cookie from your favourite shop until suddenly you weren't very thirsty anymore, but instead, your heart sunk as your throat dried up. You looked in the window of the coffee shop and saw Kai sitting there with Hwasa, his hand in hers as they laughed.

You pulled out your phone and dialled his number. You watched as he checked to see who was calling and then put his phone down, ignoring the call.

With your heart hurting, you continued to walk to your apartment. You decided you were done being played by him and reached in your purse, digging for the napkin the stranger had given you earlier. If Kai wanted to play games with you, fuck with your feelings for him, well then you could do the same, and make him hurt more.

The minute you got home you sat at your kitchen table, dialling the number the man had given you.

"Hello?" He answers.

"Hi." You say. "I realized that I never got your name." You smile.

"I'm sorry." He laughs. "I don't usually do that so I was a little nervous. My name is Taemin." He tells you. For some reason his name made you smile widely.

"Nice to meet you, Taemin. My name is Ayn." You say.

"Well Ayn, would you like to have dinner with me tomorrow night?" He asks.

"I would love to." You answer, without a second thought. Kai was pushed so far to the back of your mind, you didn't even feel guilty about saying yes to Taemin, Kai could have Hwasa.

"7 pm, Jungsik Seoul. Is it okay if we meet there?" He asks.

"Yes, that sounds perfect. See you tomorrow." You say, hanging up after he says goodbye.

You were truly excited, maybe this means you and Kai weren't meant for each other. Setting your phone on the table, you walk away, trying to decide what you wanted to have for dinner tonight when your phone rang again. You made the mistake of answering it without even looking at who was calling, you were just trying to be happy.

"Hello?" You answer, a little tune in your voice.

"Hi, beautiful." You hear on the other end.

"Kai?" You ask.

"Yes, baby, you and me, tomorrow night. Can we talk please?" He asks.

"No." You spit. "I saw you with Hwasa at the coffee shop this afternoon. You were smiling while holding her hand. So much for a break. I really continue to surprise myself at how many times I'll let you fuck with my heart."

"Ayn." He says but you don't stop.

"I have a date tomorrow night." You say. "He's taking me to Jungsik Seoul. So I'm busy, bye." You finish, hanging up the phone. You toss your phone onto your couch, heading to the bathroom and slamming the door behind you, your mood now completely ruined.

You stood outside the restaurant in your red flowy dress and heels as you waited for Taemin to show up. You checked your phone again and it was only 6:57pm, so it's not like he was late, you were just a naturally early person.

"Hey." You hear from behind you. You turn around and see Taemin walking up to you, in his suit that fit him perfectly, his hair laid out in a perfect way to shape his face, his plump lips spread into a smile.

"Hi." You smile.

"Have you been waiting long?" He asks, pulling the door open for you.

"Just a few minutes." You say, walking into the restaurant. "Not long at all."

"Reservation for Lee Taemin." He tells the man at the front who then takes you to your seats.

As the two of you look over the menu, the conversation is flowing and you can't control your laughter. You were having an amazing time with Taemin, but your heart wasn't fully in it. You took a sip of your wine as Taemin looked past you, slightly confused.

"Hey man." He says, standing up.

"What the hell are you doing?" You hear from behind you. It's Kai.

"I'm on a date man," Taemin says, pointing to you.

"With Ayn." Kai snaps.

"Like.. the Ayn?" Taemin asks, looking between you both.

"Yeah." Kai answers.

"Bro, I'm sorry, I didn't know," Taemin says, putting his hands up to surrender.

"You don't get to do this." You spit, standing up from the table. "You don't get to waltz in here and pull this shit."

"He's a friend, Ayn. He knows about everything and how bad I've wanted you back." Kai tries to explain.

"Oh, I'm sure you wanted me back so bad." You scoff. "That's why you were getting all cozy with Hwasa yesterday right? That was wanting me back, right?" You yell, crying again. "I'm tired of you lying to me about her. Either you're done with her or you're not." You finish in a whisper.

"I am done. Look, Ayn, it's not what you think at all. Please, please let me explain." He begs.

You look around the restaurant at all the people watching you and your drama. "Fine." You whisper, sitting down slowly into your seat.

"Do you mind?" Kai asks Taemin, pointing to his seat.

"Get your girl, man." Taemin smiles, walking out of the restaurant, leaving you both to talk.

"I'm just going to go to the bathroom." You sniffle, earning a smile from Kai.

You walk to the bathroom, with the plans of fixing up your makeup, trying to make yourself look somewhat presentable again. But you never had expected to see Hwasa standing in the bathroom, leaning against the wall as if she was waiting for you.

"Awh." She fake pouts. "Poor little Ayn. Are you upset that you're trying to ruin someone else's relationship?" She asks.

You ignore her.

Hwasa laughs. "Do you think you've won because he's sitting out there wanting to talk to you? Sweetie, he walked out on you once, what makes you think he won't do it again?" She smiles. "If I were you, I'd be so insecure because I'm not giving up my man." She spits, walking out of the bathroom.

Fuck your makeup, you storm right out of the bathroom and head for the table you share with Kai. "Are you done with her?" You ask, slamming your hands on the table.

"W-what?" He asks. "Yes, I don't want her."

"Then you should probably let her know because she just told me in the bathroom that she's not giving you up." You tell him.

Kai stands up, looking around the restaurant. "Hwasa." He calls out.

She smiles widely as she walks towards the table. "Hi, baby." She purrs, sliding her arm onto his shoulder.

Kai pushes her off. "Look, I told you yesterday over coffee, I'm done. I don't want you." Kai growls.

"Are you forgetting our little arrangement?" Hwasa scoffs. "I can pull out my money and you'll be ruined." She threatens.

"You'll have your money back tomorrow, first thing. You're not hanging this over my head anymore, Hwasa." Kai spits, pointing to her face. "Get it through your thick skull, it's always been her." He finishes, walking towards you, taking your hand and pulling you from the restaurant, leaving Hwasa standing there, looking like a fool.

It had now been a year of you and Kai being back together and they have been the best year of your life. After that night at the restaurant, you and Kai sat down and had a very long talk about everything, clearing the air, no more secrets. Slowly as the days went on, you began to trust him more and more, which led to you slowly dating again.

After a few months you didn't want to do the slow thing anymore. You wanted him fully. You had no doubts about your relationship, and you didn't want to wait to give yourself fully to him. Kai had your heart in his hands, and you knew he would never do anything to break it again.

"You're lying." Kai whispers, staring at Hwasa with wide eyes. "You can't.. it's not mine." Kai says.

"The Night of the hotel with the papers. That wasn't Ayn you were with. It was me." She tells you.

Kai closes his eyes, flashing back to that night four months ago.

"I miss you." You pout into the phone, making Kai chuckle on the other end.

"I miss you too, baby." He groans. "I'm going to kill Baekhyun for this."

"You can't kill him. He needs his best friend. Make sure you're safe tonight. I have something exciting to tell you when you get home in the morning." You smile, looking over at the positive pregnancy test sitting on the kitchen table.

"Okay baby, they're calling me, so I will see you in the morning. I love you." He sighs.

"I love you more." You whisper before hanging up the phone.

"Sorry about that." Kai says, putting his phone in his pocket.

"No worries." Hwasa answers, sliding papers towards him. "These are the transfer of ownership papers." She says, pouring a glass on whiskey for Kai.

"This is all you called me here for? To give me papers?" He asks.

"Yes." Hwasa answers. "Actually, I do have a question." She says.

Kai takes the glass drinking the shot before Hwasa fills it up again.

"Why Ayn?" She asks. "What is so special about her?"

Kai chuckles as he drinks another shot, and another one. "She was the first one to think of me as more than just a dick." Kai answers. "She saw i was worth more than being just a good fuck."

Hwasa nods her head as she pours Kai another shot, his body beginning to feel warm.

"I think you're more than just your dick." Hwasa whispers, pushing the shit towards him, leaning in closely to Kai.

He takes a breath, smelling the air. It smells like you, he can smell your perfume. "Ayn." He smiles. His world spins slightly as he takes the shot. He looks up and he swears he sees you sitting across from him.

"Lets go to bed." He hears. A woman helps him up, taking him up to a hotel room and laying him in the bed.

"Ayn, my sweet baby. I like your dress." He smiles as he squints his eyes, watching the dress fall to the floor.

"I want you." He hears a whisper, making him groan.

"Oh baby, I want you too." Kai groans, unblocking his belt.

He watches as his cock is pulled out. He closes his eyes as a mouth wraps around his tip, teasing him with a tongue before sucking hard, bobbing up and down as his cock gets sucked.

"Fuck." He huffs, his hands reaching up and grabbing a chunk of hair, holding the head steady as he thrusts himself up, his cock sliding down the throat.

"Ride my cock." He whimpers.

His eyes are still closed as he feels a body climb up the bed, hovering over him before sitting on his cock. "Oh god." He hears moaned from above. He places his hands on hips, helping rock back and forth.

"You always feel so good around my cock." He whines, his fingertips digging into the thighs on top of him.

"Cum." He demands, his teeth clenched together. He listens to the sweet sound of moans from above him, as fingertips dig into his chest.

It doesn't take long for Kai to cum, filling up the warm pussy that surrounds his cock.

"Fuck, I love you." He sighs before falling asleep.

In the morning Kai wakes up startled and confused. He remembers drinking with Hwasa, but he must have drank too much. He looks over and sees Hwasa sleeping in the other bed in the room, both of them still fully clothed. He went home that morning and told you about the wild sex dream he had about you, and you told him you were pregnant.

Kai walks in the door of your shared apartment and sees you standing there, with two tiny baby onesies, one with blue writing and one with pink.

"It's twins babe." You cry. "A boy and a girl!"

Kai walks towards you, dropping to his knees, sobbing with his head down.

"I'm so sorry Ayn, I fucked up." He whispers. "Hwasa's pregnant and it's mine."

#exowritersnet #noonasinnetwork #kai #kim jongin #exo kai smut #exo smut fanfic #kim kai #kai smut #exo #exo smut #jongin #exo writing #exo fanfic #exo imagines #kpop smut #kpop fanfic #kpop smut scenarios

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yslkook · 3 years

Text

complicated

pairing: seokjin x reader summary: in which you and seokjin are figuring your “relationship” out. word count: 2415 warnings: cursing, alcohol, brief smut (like very brief) a/n: a part two to ships in the night. ty to @taestybae for listening to me rant about this!!

You and Seokjin somehow find your rhythm, even after months of being out of sync with each other. It makes him nervous, how easily he falls back into his friendship with you. It scares him how now that he’s allowed to, he sees you in a different light.

Like you had said. It was a cliche, that he was coming to terms with his seemingly hidden feelings for you after a three year long engagement with another woman. Another woman that he hardly thinks of these days. Because all he can think about is how soft you feel curled up next to him, and how your hands feel intertwined with his. All he can think about is how your face lights up when you see him, as if he’s the only one in the room.

It’s been almost eight months since Jin had ended his engagement with Taeyeon. He doesn’t know what the appropriate time is to wait into jumping into another relationship after a failed engagement. But does it bother you?

You don’t like complicated. So you let him hold your hand. You let him kiss you. You let him sleep in your bed, reminding you of when you were both in college. You let him hold you in a way that is definitely more than friendly.

Yoongi tells you that you should ask him what he’s thinking. Ask him where you stand with him. But the idea of complicating whatever you have with Jin doesn’t sound very appealing. Yoongi tells you that you’ll break your own heart again if you don’t figure your shit out with Jin. Jimin gives you flirty eyes and his warm smile, finally happy that his two friends who were like his older siblings finally are venturing out of the bounds of friendship. And Jungkook worries that you’ll get hurt.

They’re all probably right. And you deserve better than a boy, regardless if he’s your best friend or not, have you out of sheer convenience. But you know Jin. You know his heart, and you know when he’s genuine. But still, you make a promise to yourself. That you’ll talk to him at some point.

Jin had asked you to accompany him to his parents’ house for dinner about a week later. You think nothing of it- you’re closer to his family than your own family. You had contemplated whether you should dress more casually or dress up a little. You decide on dressing up a little bit, wearing a blouse tucked into your pants and a brown plaid jacket. The way Jin’s eyes widen as you swipe your lip gloss on makes it worth it, you think.

“You look better than I do,” Jin whines, pulling you into his side and dropping a kiss to your lips quickly. You swipe at his bottom lip to take the remnants of your gloss off of him. It should be strange, how easy kissing him was.

“God forbid,” You roll your eyes and wrap an arm around his waist, pulling you flush against his chest.

“We’ll be the only tens in the house. Well, I’m an eleven, but you’ll do,” Jin says and you scoff fondly.

“Alright, keep dreamin’, Jin. Keep living in your delusions. I won’t burst your bubble.”

“Kim Seokjin!” You hiss at him, swatting your hand over his shoulder, “You did not tell me that your brother and his pregnant wife were coming. And your cousins. And your aunts and uncles! You ambushed me!”

“What’s the big deal?” Jin hisses back, rubbing his shoulder, “They all love you anyway! You act like this is the first time-”

“The first time! It is the first time, you idiot,” You pull him to you by the lapels of his jacket, cursing his stupidly handsome face, “It’s the first time I’ve been around your entire family while we’re doing whatever it is that we’re doing!

“No wonder your mother is looking at me like she has a secret,” You rant, “Oh my god, and your brother- he looked so fuckin’ happy to see us. Oh my god-”

“Hey,” Jin says sharply, “Will you relax?”

“Seokjin! No, I will not relax! Can’t believe I had to be ambushed just to get an answer out of you for what it is we’re doing here-”

Jin sighs and pulls you into his arms, muffling your surprised gasp. You melt into his hug quickly, and most of your irritation has washed away. He’s always been an instant source of calm for you, and this time is no different.

“Is that what this is about?” Jin murmurs and before you can snark at him, he clasps his hand over your mouth, “You’re mine and I’m yours. That’s how it’s always been. And that’s it. Doesn’t have to be so complicated, baby.”

“Complicated…” You echo, feeling your muscles relax, “Unconditionally?”

“Yeah. Unconditionally.”

At the end of the night, when Jin’s father insists on a family picture with everyone in it, you don’t even feel out of place pressed up against Jin. You squeeze his hand in yours tightly and smile.

It’s not so complicated.

You almost drop your coffee when you see none other than Taeyeon, Jin’s ex-fiancee, staring at you as if you have ten heads.

“Uh,” You say eloquently, squeezing your cup of coffee. You had gone to your favorite coffee shop after work to pick up pastries for you and Jin before seeing him later that evening.

Taeyeon finally gives you a weak wiggle of her fingers. “Hey. Long time no see,” She says. She looks good, you think. She looks happy. Happier than when she was with Jin.

“You look good,” You comment, voicing your thoughts out loud, “How have you been, Taeyeon?”

Your heart is slamming in your chest, for some unknown reason. You can’t help but feel guilty all of a sudden. Even if you had done nothing when her and Jin had been together.

“Good. How have you been?” Taeyeon says politely.

“Good,” You echo. What does she want with you? She seems to hesitate for a minute before sighing deeply.

“Will you sit with me for a minute?” Taeyeon says quietly. Your lips part in surprise, eyebrows shooting up to your hairline.

“Yeah. Yeah, okay,” You murmur and lead her to one of the tables by the windows, “So how are you really? I didn’t think you’d want to hear from me. Considering…” You trail off, your eyes meeting hers.

“Yeah,” Taeyeon nods, “I didn’t. Want to hear from you, that is.”

“Fair,” You reply, “Not sure why you wanna hear from me now, then. Want a croissant?” You take a freshly baked croissant from the box and hand it to her. Her eyes glaze over your left hand, namely your ring finger. Before she can protest, you shove it in her hands and she murmurs a soft ‘thanks’.

“You bringing those for Seokjin?” Taeyeon says, not an ounce of bitterness in her voice. She was always too good. Better than you could ever be.

“Yeah,” You say simply. Part of you wants to say ‘is it any of your business?’ but you refrain. You’re certain this is hard for her. But she’s the one who wanted to talk.

“I was thinking about you the other day,” She says softly. Taeyeon is just full of surprises today, isn’t she. “I just…”

“Taeyeon… You don’t have to do this. We don’t have to do this. You can hate me-”

“Hate you? I never hated you,” Taeyeon says, taking a sip of her coffee, “Okay, maybe I did for a little. But that was only because you were the easiest person to blame at the time. Seokjin and I would have never been happy together.”

You stay quiet, chewing nervously on your bottom lip.

“I moved on. There’s no reason for him not to,” Taeyeon continues, her voice soft and melodious as it carries through. You raise your head in surprise, trying to mask it quickly. But she picks up on it and smiles.

“That’s great, Taeyeon. I’m happy for you,” You say, and you mean it. Her eyes brighten at your words and she gives you one of her show-stopping smiles. The smile that Seokjin fell in love with all those years ago.

“He hasn’t put a ring on you yet?” She says, half jokingly and you snort.

“How do you know I haven’t put a ring on him yet?” You wink at her. You remember why you had defended her to your friends when they said that her and Jin didn’t fit- she was genuinely so nice. But that didn’t take away from the fact that they didn’t fit. You missed her friendship, and that revelation has you surprised.

“He seems to be taking his sweet time. Considering that you were one of the reasons we ended things,” Taeyeon says airily. You wince at her oblivious bluntness.

“Taking his time with what?”

“Making you his. The way you should’ve been from the beginning.”

Breath seems to be stolen from your throat at her words and you choke on your coffee. “Taeyeon…”

“I’m only saying. He broke an engagement for you. What are you both scared of?”

“It’s…” You exhale, somehow trying to reconcile that you’re speaking about your relationship with Jin with his ex-fiancee, “Complicated. It’s complicated.”

“Is it?”

Jin’s head is in between your legs, your back braced over the couch. Your hands tangle in his hair, tugging lightly as a lewd moan escapes you. Despite his lips dotting your inner thighs in kisses, his hands flat over your hips… Your mind is preoccupied.

Taeyeon’s words replay in your mind on loop. Jin can tell you’re distracted and he pulls away with a sigh and with rosy lips.

“Babe,” He sighs, “Are you okay?”

“Huh?” You mumble, wrapping your legs around his waist to nudge him by the heels of your feet. Jin lays on top of you, shoving a hand up your shirt to play with your tits lazily.

“What’s on your mind?”

“I saw Taeyeon today. Your ex-fiancee, remember her?” You say bluntly and Jin freezes for a second, his fingers clamped around your nipple.

“Of course I remember my ex-fiancee,” Jin hisses, squeezing your waist, “What could my girl possibly be talking to my ex-fiancee about?”

“What else do we have in common?” You roll your eyes, “You. And croissants. She looks good. She’s happy, told me about the girl she’s seeing.”

“And you? Are you happy?”

“She said something funny,” You say, ignoring his question, “Said you broke your engagement for me and that it was stupid that we weren’t together.”

“Not together? You think we’re not together?” Jin asks incredulously, “This is fuckin’ weird, baby. Because Taeyeon said we’re not together, you think we’re not together?”

“I don’t think anything, baby,” You say stubbornly, “It’s...complicated.”

“What’s complicated? I’m yours and you’re mine. That’s all there is to it, remember?” Jin murmurs, cradling your face. You pull him down for a hungry kiss. You don’t want to talk about it anymore. You only want him.

Hoseok’s New Year’s Eve party, or the party of the year as he dubbed it, was in full swing. Bottles of alcohol were opened on the designated table, red, black and gold streamers and decorations all over his apartment, with everyone dressed in either red, black or gold to match the theme. As per his request.

You were wearing a tight, red midi dress. Jin nearly convinced you to stay home, with his wandering hands and lingering touches. But you wanted to end the year with a bang, and you’d be damned if he held you up. He was hot, and you thought it was cute when his ears reddened at your soft sigh when you saw him.

You’re about four drinks deep, in the middle of drinking games with equally, if not more, tipsy friends and you’ve never been happier. You cheer loudly when your team wins, giving Jungkook and Yoongi’s girlfriend kisses on the cheek at your victory.

Seokjin is on a mission to get you alone. When he finally gets his chance, inching his way in between you and Taehyung, you grin widely at him. With your arms flat on his chest.

“Hey,” You purr, “Missed you.”

“Wanna tell you something,” Jin says, a little desperately and takes you outside, on Hoseok’s balcony.

“Outside? It’s cold,” You complain, rubbing your bare arms. Jin immediately draws you into his chest, replacing your hands with his. As nice as it is, you’re still cold.

“I need to talk to you,” Jin pleads, taking your chin in his hands.

“Jin,” You ask worriedly, “What’s wrong? Are you alright?”

“I love you,” Jin exhales, “I love you so much.”

“I know that,” You smile, heart still skipping a beat at his words.

“No, you don’t understand,” Jin says frantically, “I’m in love with you. I’m so in love with you. Even when I didn’t know it, I was. You are my best friend, my soulmate, and I am in love with you.”

“O-oh. Like that,” You murmur. His words are new, but for some reason, you don’t feel any different. Maybe it’s because you’ve known for the last few months. You’ve known how he felt about you. But still. His words are everything.

“Yeah. Like that.”

“I’ve been so in love with you for… God, I don’t even know how long,” You sigh dreamily, melting into his kisses over your cheek, your forehead, your chin, “Say it again, Jinnie.”

“I’m in love with you,” A kiss to the corner of your mouth, “I love you-” A kiss to your eyebrow, “I fuckin’ love you,” A kiss to your lips.

“Want to end the year with you as my girlfriend,” Jin murmurs into your neck, “And start the next year with you as my girlfriend. Will you do that for me? Will you do that with me?”

“Yeah,” You nod, almost shy, “Fuck, yeah. I’ll do that with you.”

“I wanna do everything with you,” Jin sighs, “Every fuckin’ thing, babe. Do it all with me. I love you. I love you. I’m in love with you.”

Your heart is singing, you feel like you’re floating and when Jin kisses you at midnight in front of all of your friends… Even dipping you dramatically. The cheers of your friends are muted with the press of Jin’s warm lips on yours with the promise of a future together.

It’s not so complicated.

#seokjin x reader #kim seokjin #seokjin

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bibbykins · 3 years

Note

So, I just caught up on the mafia series having been offline for a few months (immaculate, as with everything you write) and I have a question if you don’t mind. What's it like when Namjoon and Jungkooks partners interrogate someone together? I want to hear about them wreaking havoc together because we stan strong female relationships

Hi! Welcome back and thank you! And in short? A bloody nightmare and I’m so glad you asked! This turned out waaay longer than I planned but it was fun to write anyway!

Edit: Let me add Namjoon's and Jungkook’s fic for background

Words: 1.7k

Warnings: gore, sadistic women, misogyny sorta (man thinking of woman as a bitch), blood, knives, talk of pain, manipulation, torture, mention of smoking

“Alright, so you won’t talk?” Jungkook huffed at the silent middle-aged man before him, looking at his watch as he clicked his tongue, “Well, I have a meeting to get to.” He shrugged, a small smile creeping onto his face.

“Ah, looks like our time with you is up.” Namjoon concealed his smirk.

“Luck you, Seungwon.” Jimin mused, but it almost seemed sarcastic, “Well, do you want to tell us where you funneled the cash? Last chance.”

The man, scoffed, “Or what? You’ll kill me? Leave me here to starve for a night?” He mocked, knowing if he died the money would be lost, and leaving him for a night is nothing compared to the elusive plastic lining the walls and floor of the dingy basement room.

This made Namjoon break into a clean smirk, “No, no, we’ve... evolved.”

A knock at the door made all the men turn to the thick metal of it as the silver doorknob turned. He expected some lackey to gather the men for a meeting, or really anything other than the smiling girl that peaked her head in, “Koo?” She called and the man in question broke out into a goofy smile as the girl basically skipped inside, wearing a pink sundress with a light green cardigan.

“Hi, baby!” He scooped the girl up, giving her a twirl and a kiss on the lips as she giggled, “How’s my Honey doing?” He cooed as he nuzzled into her neck.

“Good! I got up early today, made your lunch- it’s in the fridge, don’t forget- and Junebug and I met up with the wedding planner to work on invitations and whatnot, she’s such a doll!” She gushed and Seungwon scrunched his nose as the engaged couple fussed over one another.

He always wondered what made such a ruthless man like Jungkook bend to the will of someone like her. He had only ever seen the elusive “Honey” in passing, never introduced since Jungkook kept his fiancee’s identity limited to him and his brothers. Although he did understand why he hid her away, she was obviously delicate. Seungwon wasn’t even a fighter but he was sure he could break you in half.

Another knock made him roll his eyes as a woman he did recognize sauntered in and he gulped slightly. Namjoon’s wife carried herself with an air of unchecked power, and rightfully so as her husband’s eyes softened as he glided to her, “Junebug, welcome.” He purred as he placed a loving kiss on his wife’s lips, “Having a good day so far?” He asked, genuinely curious as the most powerful man in the country clung to her every word.

Namjoon’s wife was, in Seungwon’s opinion, a bitch. Seungwon was a golden boy, a rising man in the syndicate. He was gaining more responsibilities, and more money, at a quick rate. It was Namjoon’s wife who took one look at him for the first time and whispered in her loving husband’s ear. She never smiled at him or spoke to him. The bitch probably looked down on him, there was a theory that she was in an arranged marriage with the boss as a girl born with a silver spoon in her mouth. Either way, the next thing he knew was an audit was done on all the finances and all of the money he had been stealing was discovered missing.

He grit his teeth as the woman spoke, adjusting her pencil skirt, “Wonderful day, actually.” She grinned, “The wedding plans are going wonderfully, makes me want to renew our vows using that planner.” She looked at Namjoon with nothing but love, “Wouldn’t that be nice, my love?”

He hummed, “Sounds lovely, my darling.”

Jimin scoffed, “Don’t we have a meeting to get to?” The man rolled his eyes as the couples giggled at him, knowing he was just jealous.

“Right, right.” Jungkook sighed as he turned to his lover, “Your raincoat is in the bag.” The girl hummed as he handed her a suitcase, “I love you.”

“I love you too.” She beamed at him, “Have fun at the meeting!” She chirped and he cooed at her before kissing her forehead.

“You know the drill. Be safe, be ruthless,” Namjoon murmured to his wife before they kissed each other, “Call me when you’re done.”

Her eyes flickered to Seungwon for a split second as a malevolent smirk found its way onto her face, “It’ll be quick I’m sure.” She stated simply, “Love you, baby.”

“I love you too.” He spoke as the men left the room.

Seungwon heard shuffling next to him and he turned to see Jungkook’s fiancee, who he only knew as (and was unable to call her) Honey, bending over as she shuffled a clear raincoat over her outfit.

“You’d be wise to watch where your eyes land.” Junebug, another name he was not allowed to call the woman, spoke with sharp eyes catching his, “Honey isn’t here for you to look at.” She sneered and before he could even open her mouth, she cut him off, “So, before we do our thing, would you like to tell us to what account our money is?” She raised a brow and he rolled his eyes.

“And how do you know I didn’t spend it?” He challenged and the woman simply laughed.

She looked him up and down like he was trash, making his skin flare with rage, “You’ve been wearing the same pair of sneakers since we met, have been using the same hair products, and your home and car have remained the same.” She deadpanned and he cursed himself internally, “If you spent it, you’d be dead.” She stated simply, “Now, last chance before things get ugly, where’s the money?”

Seungwon heard the leader’s women were participating in business, but he didn’t expect interrogation to be something they handled. He gulped, not enjoying surprises or not knowing what exactly they can do. He knew how the leaders made people squeal, but the women? He had no idea. However, he remained silent, jaw clenched as he held his silence and her gaze in spite of the metal clinking next to him.

She raised a brow before clicking her tongue, “You’re gonna make me put on a raincoat?” He remained silent as she rolled her eyes, “Fine, Honey, you’re up.”

The cheerful woman hummed as she walked up to him, face behind a shield and hands with pink gloves on as she held a thin knife, “Okay, so you tell me where the money is, and I’ll stop, okay?” She held up the symbol in her gloved hand before giggling, “Wow, usually it’s just for inside info but now I’m like ‘where’s my money?!’ like a real mafia person!” She turned to Junebug with a childish grin that the woman returned, now donned in a raincoat and patting the woman’s head.

“So cute.” She cooed, “Now, be safe, be ruthless.” She spoke softly and Honey nodded.

“What are you gonna do? Take my finger off?” He scoffed and the way he made the woman giggle unnerved him.

Her eyes landed on him, much darker now as she scanned his form, stopping at his forehead, “Hey mister, you’re sweating quite a bit now. Are you nervous?” She asked and he remained silent, “Did you know stress can make pain worse?” She leaned forward, lips close to his ear and she sniffed lightly, “Uh oh~ we got a smoker!” She sang, stepping back and sinking to her knees, “Nicotine hinders blood flow to joints, making healing so slow.” She pouted and he suddenly felt extremely uncomfortable with the way she glided a sharp knife along his legs, “Okay, here we go!”

The pain was blinding, but the cruelest part of it is that it was not fatal. He never saw where she stabbed him, he couldn’t bear to open his eyes as the pain radiated throughout his body, most concentrated in his left knee. He couldn’t breathe as he focused on not saying a word and heard a chuckle from one of the women, “Didn’t you hear her, old man? She said stress makes the pain worse.” A wicked cackle followed as he pressed his lips together.

“The beautiful thing about pain is that it’s all in your head.” Honey taunted, “The brain doesn’t feel pain, chemicals from it tell you that it hurts.” She explained with a wicked lilt to her voice, “I could be poking you, but if I have a big enough reaction-” She gasped loudly and pain shot through him like a bullet but there was no gunshot, “You’ll cry your little heart out.” She chortled, “Like a baby.”

“You think I like wearing a raincoat waiting for pigs like you to squeal?”Junebug spoke, “I don’t want to be doing this to you, Seungwon, I really don’t.” Her voice was softer, almost pitying, “But you forced my hand, Honey’s hand.” She clicked her tongue like she was scolding a child, “We don’t like to hurt our family, so why do you like to hurt us?”

He panicked, the tenderness in her voice getting to him, offering solace from pain. This went on for what felt like hours. Each time Junebug would speak, Honey would cease her torture. They were training him, like a dog. They were getting him most comfortable with speaking with Junebug, just so he would salivate at the chance of talking with the woman. Junebug spoke honeyed words about how important he was, how vital he was to their group, making it seem like they were doing him a favor by torturing him. It had to have been a whole day by the time he gasped out the account he put the money.

He was delirious, and mercy was a greater reward than any cashout as the blood from the slit on his forehead seeped into his eyes, “Good choice.” Junebug praised as she wrote down the info, “What’s our time, Honey?”

The girl simply beamed, raincoat off, not a speck of blood on her pristine outfit, “Twenty minutes.”

#yandere bts #bts fanfic #bts #yandere bts au #mafia bts #bts mafia au

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akaashisupremacy · 3 years

Text

Yes, Always

Summary: Having broken off your engagement for an arranged marriage with Gojo, your relationship is in shreds. As you and Gojo try to pick up the pieces, what does love look like?

Gojo Satoru x reader

Multi-fandom Masterlist || HQ Masterlist || Ao3 version

Genre: Mostly fluff, lil bit of domestic angst, exes to friends to lovers (wc: 1.8k)

“How on earth are you still bed when the sun is setting? Gojo Satoru dramatically bursts into your apartment. The door flings open and you’re sure the knob dented the wall.

You don’t even blink. His theatrics rarely faze you anymore. You shift on your bed to face the wall.

You don’t have energy for this.

Gojo knows you since your childhood. You hadn’t always been so easy to tire. But Jujutsu work was a lot. It accumulated fatigue that drained you physically and emotionally ever so often.

“You cancelled on Ieri, I knew something was up and I was right!” he placed his hands on his hips. He walks over to you.

You yawn and ignore him.

Gojo opens a window and pulls out your covers in response.

“Hey!” you yelp.

“You go shower while I make you something to eat.” he commands.

You continue to ignore him.

He tries to haul you off the bed and into the tub.

You finally sit up, crossed beyond words. He kneels down so he can look up to you.

“You need a warm shower. It will help you feel better, I promise.” he says firmly, “Get yourself some fresh clothes. I’ll run you a bath.” His tone is is a mix of stern and gentle in away you don’t hear often.

You grudgingly get up and do as he says.

You drag yourself off the bed and into the bathroom. As you body soak in the hot water, the fatigue peel off and you feel re energised. You look up at the steam that floats around you.

Your reverie is interrupted by the kitchen noises.

Why was he doing this? You thought to yourself. This wasn’t like him to cross the boundaries of your home and to check up on you. Sure you were dating, but coming over was way too cozy for Gojo who only ever dated casually.

You walk out in new clothes, hair still dripping wet.

Gojo had set up a pot over a portable stove on your dinner table with some food already boiling away. The smell of dinner on the way was already wafting in the air.

“Thanks for doing this.” You murmur, wrapping your arms around him and burying your face into his chest.

Gojo resists the urge to pull away or look extremely nonchalant. He’a never been good with commitment or sincere expressions pf affection.

“The water was nice.” you added.

He carefully plants his hand your nape and press your forehead on his lips. You body is still warm from the shower. It still shocks him how close he can hold you.

“If you like the water so much we can go swimming in the summer.” he nods, “I’ve always wanted to go to Okinawa and go diving or snorkeling.”

You briefly pull away, “If we’re still seeing each other.”

He hesitates, “We will.”

“How do you know we’ll last till then?”

“I just do.” he pushes.

“Sure,” you take tour arms off him.

Gojo is not good at commitment. It is hard for him to sustain his interest in any one person, which you’ve accepted when you began dating him. Your set-up isn’t even exclusive. Why was he kidding himself?

Now that you’ve detached yourself from him. He heads back to the kitchen counter.

“Because this is the hardest I’ve tried.” he replies softly, “I’m concerned about you you think and how I make you feel. I don’t think I can take the weight of disappointment if things spiral a second time.”

You look at him as he prepares so vegetables. Gojo was your technically your ex-fiancee. You thought the break-up freed him. Maybe you weren’t completely right.

This is your second shot of your relationship. Why are you surprised that he’s trying so hard? Why is it difficult for you to believe in his sincerity?

“Okinawa sounds nice, I want some oysters.” you reply, taking out some bowls and chopsticks.

“I want to see you in a bikini.” He smirks.

You instinctively throw a towel at him. He dodges with a grin.

As the meatballs begin to cook, you both take a seat. Gojo recalls his conversation with his student earlier today.

“Yuuji,” Gojo called out as he enters the kitchen, “I need you to teach me how to make meatballs. I’m bringing them over for a friend.”

Itadori Yuuji is busy cutting up some mushrooms. Must be hotpot night again for the students.

“Here take this, this is ready made.” he pulls out a container of meatballs from the fridge.

“Aren’t you going to teach me how o make it?” Gojo asks his student, slightly perplexed.

“You look like you’re in a rush. I can teach you another time,” Iatdori smiles congenially and waves his hand. He causally takes the meat and scallions from Gojo’s bag and begin prepping them for his meal.

“Is this for you ex-wife?” he causally asks his teacher.

Gojo snorts, “Ex-fiancee. Yeah that one, they’re not feeling well today. I’m going to drop off something to eat.”

“I think it’s kind of nice you’re a second try.” Yuuji grins good naturedly.

“The first time wasn’t really a try. Our engagement was arranged.” Gojo packs some other things onto a bag, “Our marriage would have ended in flames if we had pushed through.”

“Yeah, but even if you had married, I think it would eventually work out. It might take years but you clearly do get along and you’re attracted to each other. You’re both willing to put in the work.” Yuuji reasons.

“Just people try doesn’t mean they always succeed.” Gojo mutters. Yuuji is the eternal optimist.

“Its not gonna work any better if you don try at all. Relationships aren’t a one time task.”

“Why can’t you just teach me? It’ll take just a little bit of time.” Gojo asks again. He slings the bag over his shoulder, ready to head out.

“But a little bit of time is still worth something. More time together is always good.” Yuuji nods.

“Just take it sensei,” Itadori said before he left the school, “Make the most out of today.”

——————————————————————

After dinner, you yawn. Gojo goes over your side and sweeps you off your chair. Your legs are dangling awkwardly over his arms. This feels so new yet strangely comfortable.

“Let’s get you back to bed.”

He looks into your eyes, framed by your lashes. Warmth has returned to your cheeks. Your face is brighter than when he first came.

You lace your arms around his neck.

Gojo has never been to your house on a personal visit before. He doesn’t know how to feel in this new kind of intimacy—an intimacy outside of sex. It is intensely emotional for him to see you at your lowest, at home, without the trappings of your jujutsu powers or even you work coat.

Who were you outside your jujutsu sorcerer? Who were the two of you outside of your jujutsu connections?

“Put me down, I want to stand.” you quietly request. He relents.

When Gojo gets up to do the dishes, you follow. You’re standing side by side, elbows bumping as a creeping sense of domesticity inches up his spine.

Gojo prefers to eat out. Cleaning up after dinner was like breakfast after sex—too much commitment.

“If this is freaking you out, we can stop.” You mumble, quickly reading through him “I can do the dishes and you can just go.”

He’s surprised by the exit you create for him, but he buckles down.

“I’m not running away from anything tonight.” he says. He’s shirking from extra time, not from his feelings and definitely not from you.

He fills his ears with the sound of clanking dishes and your slow and steady breath. His time today was your anyways. Why would he take it back? Domesticity is unfamiliar, but he so badly wants to give it a shot.

After all the dishes are put aside, you wipe his hands dry with the kitchen towel. His heart is racing, his palms sweaty. He thinks about cracking a joke to hide his tension, but decides otherwise.

You eyes look steadily at him, as if testing him to see if he will sat or go. He takes the towel and gently dries off your hands, careful to get in between your fingers and to be gentle around your wrists.

“I’m not going anywhere.” he remarks, “even if you don’t believe me.”

“I’m really trying.” he adds.

“I believe you.” you nod. Some of the tension and discomfort in his face fades.

You walk towards your room, “I’m going to bed. I’m tired.”

He scurries behind you, turning off the lights as he goes “Can I lie down beside you?”

You’re taken by surprise but you don’t let it show.

“Sure.”

Gojo mostly lies on top of the sheets and he watches you tuck yourself in. You look so young like this — pajamas, no make up, no work clothes.

You were arranged to be married by 20 and you look just that age. He notices you staring back at him, inspecting him in this new angle you’re both experiencing for the first time.

“Did you ever think about what our first night would be like?” you ask candidly.

He rolls onto his back and stares into the ceiling, “It would probably be awkward. I’ve thought about taking a sleeping pill to knock myself out. What about you?”

“Just the usual stuff.” you shrug.

“What usual stuff?” he prods.

You make a face and reply, “I guess I expected you’ll about some of my habits that I’m embarrassed about eventually.”

“It’s not the sex?” he asks surprised.

You laugh and shake your head. When you were younger you were curious about it, but once you learned what it was it didn’t seem as interesting to you.

“No, I thought the sex would just make me sad. Judging by the way things were going then, you’d be thinking of someone else while I give myself to you.” you turn away from him as you talk, sheepish to voice your hurt out loud and look at him in the eye at the same time, “You’d make me feel small, like my family did. For most of my life, my only value was to be married to you and I couldn’t even feel good in it.”

Your words heave silence into the room. You don’t know what expression he has on.

“Man, I sound like horrible husband.” he murmurs.

You slowly turn back to him.

“But that was what would have happened if we had married at 20. That’s not us anymore.” you shake your head.

Your faces so close your noses touched.

“What are you doing?” he half-asks.

You press your face to his shoulder. He pulls away a bit to get under the sheets. He wraps an arm around you and uses his other arm to turn off the lights.

“Can I stay tonight?” he breathes in your smell even though he already knows the answer. You feel so impossibly soft against him, he feels the lull of sleep approaching.

“Yes,” you barely whisper, “always.”

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I wrote this as a follow up for another Gojo x reader fic who used to be engaged. Check out the other parts!

Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3 || Part 4 || Part 5 || Part 6 || Part 7 || Part 8

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Series Taglist: @tokyo-love-hotel @samkysnks@herownescape@cherrianne192@shamelessdonutsludgebanana@kageyamakock@shirostrbl@luvang3l @cloudsinthecosmos@httpjungoo @saturnki @itstheee-ha-chan @gucci-froggy @soy1melk @dora-the-grownup@cherryonigiri

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#gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #gojo satoru x gender neutral reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x y/n #jjk x y/n #jjk x reader #jjk angst #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen scenarios #jjk imagines #satoru gojo x y/n #satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo x you #gojo angst

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