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midnightshard06 · 3 months

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The Bound By Fate au brain rot continues. I bring you something written this time. An expanded version of one of my flufftober prompts from the au. This one in particular, so that whole fic is within this one just some things mildly changed with the new context. There's still plenty of new stuff here though lol. I will likely eventually put this up on ao3 but it's just gonna be here for now.

Summary: Sonic meets Tails for the first time after the fox saves his life. Upon Sonic's return after their initial meeting to where Tails lives he realizes that the town has been taken over by a group of thugs and decides to do something about it.

Warnings: Mild blood and injury (not described in detail)

Word Count: 4747 words

Sonic moved as slowly and quietly through the maze like canyons as he could. He knew there were people on his trail and any wrong move could give away his location. It was dark, so at the very least he’d be able to see any lights approaching. His ears perked up as he heard the crunching of rock from not too far away. Pausing he scanned the area; entire body tensing in preparation to run. Honestly he really should have been more careful, something like this hadn't happened in a long time. Though he should have known that when he saw that group of hunters during the day that he should have just skipped town. Tired or not.

Once he was satisfied that there was nothing immediately near him he kept moving. If he was lucky they’d lose interest. Though he’d also just take keeping away from them all night at this point. Even if he’d be exhausted come morning he’d still be able to get away. Though keeping away from them was easier said than done. This was a decently large group and well organized he’d give it that. Their leader, an overzealous jackal who called himself Infinite, had proven to be pretty skilled. Sonic had managed to convince the jackal to spar with him during the day so he could get a feel for Infinite’s skill level. It had been closer than Sonic was expecting, but he hadn’t been in danger of losing. The massive downside to that fight though had been Infinite trying to recruit him all day until he’d left to prepare for a hunt with the rest of his group.

What was a group like that doing in a more populated place like this anyway? As far as he’d learned those that believed in “monsters” and actively seeked them out tended to stick to small towns. They always thought they’d have a better chance at finding something that way. Not that Sonic even really knew what these people were going after in the first place. They’d been established long before he was born and he’d never seen anything else like him.

Another nearby sound had him freezing. His ears swiveled around to try and figure out the source of the noise. It was hard to tell because of how the sound bounced off the canyon walls. As he concentrated though he realized that there was sound coming from multiple directions. His heart sank. They’d caught up.

“You’re quite slippery, but we won’t let you get away that easily.” Infinite emerged from the darkness. He was hard to see due to his black fur, but the glint of a metal sword by his side was unmistakable. “Now you stand no chance of escape and we’ll finally be able to prove to the world our worth.” Sonic’s eyes darted around as the other jackals that made up the group made themselves known. He was surrounded. It was starting to look like his only way out of this would be to fight them. While he didn’t really want to hurt them he also wasn’t just going to lay down and die. “Now!” Infinite shouted before the whole group jumped forward to attack Sonic.

At first he did his best to avoid their strikes and keep an eye out for an opening to escape, but it quickly became clear that the strategy wasn’t going to cut it. By the time he first struck one of the jackals away from him, doing his best to avoid digging his claws into them, he already had a collection of cuts across his body. From there instincts kicked in and everything became a blur. For those moments, however long they were, his world became fight or be killed. By the time all but their leader were knocked out on the ground Sonic was panting heavily. Blood sluggishly dripped from the many cuts and gashes the hunter group had managed to inflict on him. As he stared down Infinite he could barely keep himself from toppling over. Although it was hard to tell in the darkness he’d be willing to bet he’d lost a lot of blood.

Infinite narrowed mismatched eyes at him. “You’ll pay for doing this to them.” He bared his teeth. Sonic couldn’t help but mentally quip back that the jackal had started this but he felt far too tired to say anything out loud. All he could do as the jackal charged him was raise his arms in a lackluster defense. Though much to his surprise Infinite suddenly stopped, pain twisting his face before he collapsed right in front of Sonic. Sonic blinked slowly in confusion before trying to look in the direction Infinite had been coming from. He could only make out a vague silhouette of what he thought was a fox before he felt himself collapsing.

Sonic slowly peeled his eyes open. He felt tired and sort of sore. Where was he? He carefully pushed the blanket that had been draped over him aside. Clearly it was daytime due to him currently not being a werehog. Now his biggest question was, where was he? The room he was in didn't look lived in really. There wasn't much in the way of personal items but he could tell that someone did in fact live here. The scent of someone else was all the proof he needed for that. There were some bandages wrapped around most of his body so he’d be willing to bet that whoever did live here didn’t want him dead. Why waste the time to patch someone up if you were just going to kill them? Of course he felt like he was already mostly healed up, but he’d leave the bandages on for now. Might be weird if he didn’t. Deciding he wasn’t going to figure out anything by staying in the room he opened the door and poked his head out. His ears swiveled around trying to pick up any noise but he couldn’t hear anything. He frowned. Was whoever lived here out? That seemed irresponsable. He decided to slowly walk through the house. Maybe they were just somewhere he couldn’t hear them. He paused. Wait, why was he even here? He couldn’t really remember much from last night but surely something must have happened. Did whoever this was see him in his werehog form? Shaking his head he decided to worry about that later. If this was going to become a problem he could easily run off. They probably wouldn’t be expecting him to be able to move around so soon. It was a nice little house he had to admit, and pretty neat too. If he had some permanent place he stayed he doubted it would stay this clean. Suddenly he heard a noise and he spun around to where it came from. A young looking fox stared back at him, clearly surprised to see him. “You’re up already?” The fox asked. “Uuuuh yeah?” Sonic answered. The two stared at each other in awkward silence for a bit. Sonic knew if he started talking it would just be a flood of questions. “Do you… need anything? Water maybe?” The fox nervously messed with his gloves. Sonic just nodded and gave the kid a shaky smile. Where were his parents? Why would anyone leave their kid alone, especially with a stranger? “Sooo I have to ask, where am I?” Sonic asked after the fox came back with a glass of water. “My house. I brought you back here after I knocked out that guy who was after you last night.” The fox looked down.

Sonic briefly choked on the water he was sipping. “U-uh last night? Like actually at night?” He gripped the cup tightly and had to mentally make sure to not use enough pressure to break it.

“Yeah?” The fox seemed confused for a moment before understanding passed over his face. “Oh! I uh did see your other form, but don’t worry!” He waved his hands in front of him. “I don’t mind, and I’m not going to tell anyone!”

Sonic supposed that was probably the truth. If he was scared of Sonic he wouldn’t be here right now. He relaxed his grip and nodded. “Right, ok. Cool.” He sighed and tried to remember what had happened. It started to come back slowly. Being chased by that monster hunting group that had shown up not long after he’d transformed. Getting cornered in the unfamiliar landscape. Not wanting to hurt them even as they attacked him. Then the same fox that was standing in front of him now somehow knocking out Infinite before he could finish Sonic off. “Thank you.” Sonic supposed that was the bare minimum he owed the fox for saving him. He held out a hand. “Name’s Sonic by the way. How did you even know I was in trouble?”

The fox took the offered hand. “Miles Prower, and I may have been following you.” Miles rubbed the back of his head guiltily.

“So you… saw me transform?” Sonic wasn’t really mad he found, just curious.

“I did.” Miles nodded. “I saw you earlier when you came into town and you seemed so nice and cool. I don’t know…” He kicked the ground. “I just wanted to know what you were doing I guess.”

“Fair enough.” Sonic shrugged. “I feel like if I was in your shoes I’d do the same.”

“You’re not mad?” Miles looked up in surprise.

“Why would I be? You saved me dude! How could I be mad at the guy who saved me?” Sonic grinned. Shyly, Miles returned the grin. Before Sonic could ask something else he noticed something about Miles he hadn’t before. The fox had an extra tail. “Oh you have an extra tail?” Admittedly it was pretty hard to tell because of the way Miles was trying to curl the two tails together.

Sonic did not expect Miles to jump and suddenly look very, very afraid. He stood there dumbfounded for a moment, even looking behind him to see if someone or something else was there. There was nothing. He turned back to look at Miles. The fox’s eyes were still blown wide and he’d started shaking, his two tails were curled up even tighter around one another. Sonic frowned and suddenly it clicked. He immediately felt awful. Ok this was fine. He could fix this.

Slowly he put a hand on Miles’ shoulder. Predictably the fox flinched. “Hey it’s ok. I think it’s cool. The extra tail. Makes you unique.” Sonic gave what he hoped was a reassuring smile.

Miles looked down and grabbed both his tails. “It makes me a target…”

Sonic hummed. “Well whoever’s been messing with you are just a bunch of jerks who don’t know what they’re talking about.”

Miles looked at him in shock. “B-but I’m different a freak I-” He paused as it sunk in who he was talking to.

“I know a thing or two about that Miles.” Sonic tapped him on the nose. “Take it from an expert, you're no freak. Those jerks have no idea what they’re talking about.”

Suddenly he had an armful of fox and he happily returned the sudden hug. It was an odd feeling, to not be slightly on edge around someone. It was a feeling he’d happily embrace though. No one before Miles knew about his werehog form, and the kid was fine with it. Maybe others could be too… He quickly shook that thought from his mind. He’d been gone after far too many times to entertain that for very long. “Thank you…” It was muffled but Sonic could still hear it.

“You’re welcome. I’m sorry that you don’t hear enough people say that.” Sonic rubbed Miles’ back. Eventually Miles let go and gave Sonic a shaky smile. “Hey how bout this. What if I give you a nickname?” Sonic gave Miles a wide grin.

“A nickname?” Miles tilted his head.

“Yeah! I have a feeling I’ll be sticking around a lot and while Miles iiiis a pretty cool name I have an idea for something I think would fit you.” Sonic winked. Miles nodded excitedly. “How about I call you Tails? Cause of how cool yours are.”

Tails gave him a big smile. “I love it.” “So…” Tails glanced over at Sonic who was carefully undoing the unneeded bandages. He’d stuck around for about a day, dealing with a restless night inside to avoid Infinite and his group, but he was eager to get away from here even if he was hesitant to leave Tails alone. Sure he’d just met the kid but Sonic hadn’t met anyone else who he felt completely at ease with before. It wasn’t something he was keen to give up too quick. “How long are you going to be here for?”

Sonic hummed. “Not too sure. I should probably stick around at least one more day to make sure everything’s healed up ok.” He inspected his arm after successfully removing the bloody bandages. He tried to not think about just how close things had been as he ran his other hand along the fur of his arm. Good news was his arm seemed more or less fine. Not even scars to indicate where one of the jackals’ swords had sliced him.

“O-oh right.” Tails grabbed his arm and looked away. “Guess it makes sense that you want to get out of here as soon as you can.”

Sonic put his arm down and frowned as he took in the sad look on the fox’s face. “Hey, buddy. Look at me.” Sonic said gently. Hesitantly Tails looked over at him, hunching in on himself. Sonic’s heart twisted painfully at the sight of the distressed fox. There was no way he could leave the kid feeling like this. He knew all too well what it was like to be alone. How could he in good conscience leave Tails feeling the same way? He opened his arms in silent invitation and it was quickly accepted. It was odd that even after only really knowing the fox for a day he felt protective of him. It felt like they’d known each other much longer. “I’ll come back ok? I promise.” Here he was breaking one of his personal rules for the fox. Never come back to somewhere that people had seen the werehog.

“Really?” Tails’ voice was muffled and soft, but Sonic managed to barely hear it.

“Yeah.” Sonic ruffled the fur on the top of Tails’ head. Tails laughed weakly and pulled himself away from Sonic.

Tails seemed to search his face for a moment before nodding. “Alright. I believe you.” He wrung his hands. “Don’t be gone too long ok?”

Sonic gave him a soft smile. “I’ll be back before you know it buddy.” Sonic grinned as he caught sight of Tails’ town in the distance. It had been a couple months since he’d first met the fox and in that time he’d finally managed to shake off the apprehension he felt coming back here. It would be good to see him again; see what the fox had been up to. As he sped towards the town he did subconsciously avoid the canyon he’d been caught in before. He also happened to notice something was wrong. As he slowed down and started to walk into town he noticed that everyone seemed to be off the streets. The town looked practically abandoned. He would have thought that too if he couldn’t pick up the occasional noise of someone moving in one of the buildings.

Suddenly a pang of panic shot through him. Was Tails ok? With no more hesitation he made his way towards the fox’s house. As he expected, the door was locked. Thankfully Tails had been insistent on giving him a key before he left the first time. Sonic felt that the move was maybe a bit irresponsible on the fox’s part, him and Sonic had only known each other for a few days after all, but it would come in handy now. After fishing the key out of one of the bags around his belt he quickly unlocked the door and opened it. Before he could turn around to close and relock it he heard the sound of some sort of mechanism releasing and felt something wrap tightly around his legs. Unable to keep his balance he fell to the floor in a daze.

“Take that you…” Tails popped out from behind some sort of barrier Sonic hadn’t noticed before. His slightly defiant expression faded as soon as he realized it was Sonic. “Sonic!” He scrambled over the makeshift barrier before hastily untying Sonic’s legs. Tails glanced around before closing the door and relocking it. “What are you doing here?” Tails asked as he helped Sonic up. “Not that I'm not happy to see you!” Tails hastily added. “I uh, sort of thought you weren’t going to come back… but you’re here now!” He grinned.

“I was coming back to visit you. Like I promised.” Sonic shook himself out. He’d file away the information that Tails didn’t think he was coming back to address later. For now he needed to figure out what was going on. “What happened here?”

“A couple of skunks came here a few days ago and started acting like they owned the place. They started taking anything they wanted and were forcing people to do things for them.” Tails gently guided Sonic around to the back of his barrier. “Most of us just blocked ourselves in to hopefully avoid them though sometimes them or some of the others they brought with them have been breaking into people’s houses.”

Sonic hummed. “No one here to stop them? Not even… Infinite and his group?” He cringed as he suggested the very group that had hunted him down and nearly killed him the last time he was here. Surely though they’d have been able to handle some rouge group of petty thieves that had rolled into town. Something told Sonic that Infinite wouldn’t like some other group encroaching on his turf, even if they weren’t another hunter group.

“They’ve been gone for a while now, looking for you I think.” Tails frowned.

Well that was… not great news. He’d have to be extra careful to avoid the group when he came back to visit Tails. “Alright.” Sonic nodded as he started to quickly stretch. “Guess I’ll just have to take care of them myself.”

Tails’ eyes widened in panic. “You can’t fight them on your own! There’s way too many of them.”

Sonic shot him what he hoped was a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry about me. This isn’t the first time I’ve had to deal with guys like them. Probably won’t be the last either. Just point me in the right direction and this’ll all be over in no time.”

Tails frowned and looked down. Sonic thought for a moment that maybe the fox wasn’t going to tell him before Tails sighed and gave him a determined look. “I’m going with you.” There wasn’t any room for argument in his tone.

Well it could be helpful to have someone watching his back… even if he didn’t love the idea of putting the fox in harm’s way. Though he was pretty sure there was no way he could convince Tails to stay here. Instead he grinned and nodded. “Alright. Just do your best to keep up.” “Is this all you’ve got?” Sonic smirked triumphantly as he quickly spin dashed into the last of what he was calling the lower level thugs. “Geez you guys are really all talk huh?” He crossed his arms.

Tails crawled out from behind the crate he’d been hiding behind and looked around in awe. “That was amazing!” He looked at Sonic with pure admiration and he almost couldn’t handle a look like that being aimed at him. It was so different to what he was used to.

Instead of letting the fox pick up on that though Sonic just chuckled. “Well of course. I just so happen to be the coolest guy around. Now then. Let’s go have a chat with the people on top shall we?” Sonic cracked his knuckles as he turned to the door.

Tails hummed as he looked at the door. “I have an idea actually.” He pulled the backpack he’d grabbed before they left off his back and started looking through it. “If you can lead those two out here… then the fight should be over before it can really start.” Tails pulled… something out of his bag that Sonic had no idea what it was. He trusted his friend though.

“You got it. How long do you need to do whatever you’re doing?” Sonic gave him a thumbs up and decided not to comment on the way Tails relaxed as he agreed.

The fox glanced around the room they were in, picking up a nearby piece of rope. “Five minutes.” He said after a moment.

“Heh. Easy.” Sonic nodded before kicking down the door that led to the two that started all this. The two skunks that were in the room looked surprised for a moment before both looking annoyed.

“Just who the heck do you think you are!?” The smaller one yelled.

“Who me?” Sonic rose a brow and put a hand on his chest. “Oh you know just someone who’s passing through.

“Then you can keep passin through right back out that door before we make you.” The larger skunk threatened.

Sonic gave the duo an assessing look. They looked capable enough but he was pretty confident that even if Tails didn’t have a plan he could take down these two. Plus they were making it real easy to stall for those five minutes Tails needed. “No, I don’t think I’ll be the one going anywhere.” Sonic grinned and crossed his arms. “I’ll give you two one chance to pack up and leave on your own though.”

“Alright that’s it.” The smaller skunk growled. “Get ready for a beatdown.”

“You better be humble.” The other chimed in.

“There’s no way you’re gonna beat-” The first chimed in again. What was happening?

“Rough and Tumble!” The two finished together.

The two struck a pose and Sonic stared in stunned silence for a moment. Then he couldn’t hold back his laughter at the whole scene. As he held up a hand while he tried to get himself under control the two looked offended. “Sorry sorry.” Sonic chuckled as his laughter died down. “I have to know. How often do you two do that?”

Instead of answering him the two rushed at him. Well if Sonic had been keeping track of time well enough then Tails should be good to go. As the two recklessly charged at him he quickly sidestepped out of the way and watched as the two crashed into the other room. The moment they were in there multiple ropes and nets shot from various parts of the room and practically cocooned the duo of skunks. Sonic poked his head in to make sure everything was good and smiled as Tails emerged and gave him a thumbs up. “Got them.”

“Sure did buddy.” Sonic walked over to Tails and held his hand out for a fist bump. Tails happily returned the gesture. “Great work.” He looked over at Rough and Tumble. The two were trying in vain to escape. “Now we just have to deal with these two…” Tails stuck close to his side as local law enforcement led the defeated thugs away. Sonic knew that the two of them were attracting a lot of attention from the townsfolk who had slowly been wandering out of their houses to see what was going on. He really didn’t like the looks some of them were giving Tails, and the fact that the bit of confidence that the fox had been showing while helping was completely gone had Sonic about ready to snap.

“I would like to sincerely thank you for your help sir.” One of the officers, a cat, came over and gave Sonic a thankful nod. His eyes lingered on Tails far too long for Sonic’s liking.

He frowned as he placed a gentle hand on Tails’ head. “Miles here helped too. I couldn’t have done it without him or his inventions.” He could feel Tails’ head turn to look up at him, probably in disbelief.

The cat blinked in surprise. “You don’t need to lie-”

Sonic held up his free hand, frown deepening. “I’m not. His help was invaluable and I want to make sure everyone here knows he’s just as responsible for saving the town as I am.” There were a lot of murmurs as the townsfolk all started to talk to each other in hushed voices. What things Sonic could make out he didn’t like.

The cat tried to regain his composure. “I’m sure you would have been fine without the mons-”

Sonic swiftly laid a hand on the officer’s shoulder. It was light, but he knew his look was intimidating regardless. He didn’t get mad often, but people had described it as pretty scary when he did. “Don’t you dare finish that.” Sonic narrowed his eyes and bared his teeth. The officer shakily nodded before Sonic let him go. He turned to scan the crowd that had formed; careful to keep his angry gaze off of Tails. “I need all of you to understand something really basic. Take it from the guy who just helped save your town. Just because someone is different doesn't mean they’re a mon-” He took a deep breath. “Doesn’t mean they’re a monster.” He clenched his fists. “Miles is my friend and what he can do is amazing. He’s amazing. So all of you need to stop treating him differently for something he had no choice in. People don’t ask to be born differently but they are anyway.” He pinned his ears down and let his expression soften as he walked back over to Tails. “You ok bud?” He asked quietly, ignoring the murmuring which had started back up again.

Tails gave him a shaky smile as tears gathered in his eyes. “Yeah.” He sniffled. “No one has ever stood up for me like that before.

“Well as long as I’m around there’ll be at least one.” Sonic smiled.

“Thank you Sonic.” Tails wiped away the tears before they could fall.

“No, thank you Tails.” Sonic ruffled his head. “You helped me and I’m happy to help you.”

Tails gently pulled Sonic into a hug. Once again something Sonic happily accepted. “I don’t think you’re a monster.” Tails said quietly, so quiet that if he hadn’t been so close Sonic would have never heard it. “No one that’s as nice as you can be one.”

Sonic smiled into Tails’ fur. He felt warm. The fox couldn’t know how much that simple sentence meant for Sonic to hear. Well, maybe he could. “Thank you.” He said just as quietly as Tails’ statement. “Now let’s get out of here.”

“Yeah.” Tails’ reluctantly pulled away. His smile was stronger now. “Let’s go.” Sonic perked up as he heard the door open and shut. “You back Tails?” It had been a few days since the whole Rough and Tumble thing and Sonic had been staying with Tails. With Infinite and his group not here at the moment he felt way more comfortable staying around for longer. Plus he wanted to make sure he’d actually gotten through to the townsfolk with his little speech.

“Yep!” Tails happily called out before poking his head around the corner.

“Everyone nice to you?” Sonic stood up to go meet him.

“Well, not mean at least. It’s better though.” Tails rubbed the back of his head. “It’s probably going to take a bit of time for things to improve even more.”

Sonic hummed but nodded in satisfaction. “Good enough for now. You just let me know if I need to set them straight ok bud?”

“I will Sonic.” Tails nodded although Sonic was fairly convinced that Tails probably wouldn’t say anything to him. He’d have to work on that. For now he wanted to enjoy some peace with his friend.

“Good. Now wanna play some games?” Sonic smiled and the way Tails’ face lit up was all the answer he needed. Oh yeah, he was so glad Tails had found him that night.

#sonic the hedgehog #sonic fandom #sonic au #miles tails prower #sonic the werehog #fanfic #Bound by Fate AU

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snaketailthecat · 2 years

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A Dance of Flames and Distrust

A Mikado Sannoji/Nikei Yomiuri x Reader Fic

Prologue Part 2

Well, that wasn’t worth anything.

I managed to explore most of the island's major landmarks at this point and found nothing of value, other than a few new faces that I had no desire to interact with after being bombarded with questions by that journalist.

I internally sighed as I munched on some chips I picked up back at the convenience store.

At the very least I had a good idea of the layout of the island. If needed I could probably stay far away from any immediate threats if I’m observant enough, though no one besides Hajime and that red-haired guy from the park seemed to pose any threat anyways.

As I continued to dwell on the people I’d seen and how much of a threat they appeared to be, I suddenly heard footsteps approaching me from behind. I quickly turned around to see an orange-haired boy wearing a sort of uniform with a red tie as the final touch.

“H-Hey!” He shouted appearing out of breath. “Hold on!”

I stopped and stared at the boy as he stopped in front of me, catching his breath. The poor kid looked like he was about to pass out with how red his face he was. I pulled a water bottle out of my bag for him, which he took gratefully.

He chugged down the water before looking at me with a sheepish smile. “Thank you.”

I shrugged in response.

“I don’t think we’ve met yet. I’m Yuki Maeda this year’s Ultimate Lucky Student.” Yuki said with an awkward smile.

“Y/N L/N, Ultimate Sharpshooter.” I said blankly.

Yuki looked at me wide-eyed at that, looking very similar to a deer in headlights.

“I’m not gonna hurt you if you’re worried about that. I only kill in self-defense or for money, and I don’t recall someone like you being on my list.” I said.

“O-Oh, well that’s a relief at least.” Yuki said still looking nervous.

Now that I’m getting a closer look at this kid he seems awfully familiar somehow, I feel like I’ve seen someone like him a while ago. I pushed that thought down, for now, to dwell on later. More importantly, why was this kid chasing after me like that?

“Any reason you were chasing me?” I asked.

Yuki perked up at that. “Oh right! We’re gathering everyone on the beach to figure out what’s going on. Hajime mentioned someone else in a leather jacket on the island so I went looking for you.”

I nodded and started to walk toward the beach.

“Hey! Wait up!” Yuki exclaimed as he followed after me.

Yuki and I arrived on the beach shortly afterward, and I quickly noticed that there were sixteen of us present in total. A few people I recognized, while there were others I’d never seen before.

Ignoring everyone else for a moment I walked over to the nearby palm tree and leaned against it, giving a small wave to Shobai and Mikado as I did so.

Yuki was the first to speak up. “So, we’re all here now?”

“So there’s this many people huh?” Hajime asked.

“So, you’re all new students, too? Nice to meet ya!” Said a short brunette with a hat and type of vest with a cross-hatch pattern on them. I noticed her sketchbook and decided to nickname her ‘Acrylic’ for now.

“Hey, hey, why’d we all have to gather? I wanna explore the island some moooorre….” Ah, I recognized her at least, Hibiki Otonokoji, the singer from the popular pop band ‘Melody Rhythm’.

Yuki seemed a little nervous as he spoke this time. “Uh… thank you all for coming. There’s a couple reasons why we called you here.” He continued on with his little speech. “The first is so we could all gather together and get to know each other better… and the second reason is-”

I cut him off. “It’s about this whole island situation correct?”

A white-haired girl in some sort of high school uniform spoke up next. “That’s right. We need to discuss that.” I think I’ll nickname her ‘Albino’ for now.

“Yeah, we need to talk about that. Glad to see we have at least some regular people here.” A pink-haired woman in a blue dress stated. With nothing else to go off of I decided to nickname her ‘Pinkie’.

“Wait, so that means that some of us aren’t normal?” The journalist from before asked.

“What situation? What are you guys talking about? Isn’t this just the entrance ceremony?” There’s the red-haired guy I saw earlier, I’ll call him ‘Vines’ due to the necklace he had around his neck.

After ‘Vines’s’ comment I just looked at him with the most disappointed expression I could muster.

“Alright time out,” I said. “What about this seems like any sort of entrance ceremony to you? Hope’s Peak or not this is not normal even for that school’s standards.”

‘Vines’ seemed to get nervous because of that statement. “W-Well I just thought-”

I continued anyways. “On another note does anyone remember how we got here in the first place?” I asked.

After a beat of silence from everyone gathered I continued. “Exactly. Why would we not remember being brought here if this is just some Hope’s Peak entrance ceremony?”

“Even so there’s no point getting so worked up maybe something just happened on the way over here.” A blue-haired woman piped in who I’ll call ‘Cyan’.

I just shrugged in response. If these people weren’t going to see reason then there was no point convincing them.

After that, I just ignored what everyone was saying, instead opting to fidget with one of the many daggers I carry on me at all times.

Well, I tried to at least until I heard Shobai start talking.

“So you dragged me here just to talk about this shit. Ugh. Precious seconds of my life, down the drain.” He seemed quite annoyed, which is understandable he’s someone who values his time above everything else.

“Hey, no need to be a jerk. It’s true that we haven’t solved anything yet, but we’re at least trying to figure out the situation.” Hajime said.

Shobai shrugged in response. “Whatever. Only reason I showed up is ‘cause I was morbidly curious about you brats.” He turned around after saying that and began to walk away. “Can’t see what I’d gain out of getting chummy with you people, so I’m just gonna pass.”

“Wh-What?! Hold it! You can’t just talk trash out of the blue like that and leave!” ‘Pinkie’ shouted.

“He’s just like that, you get used to it after a while.” I said as Shobai walked past me. I dug into my bag and fished out a box of cigarettes, giving it to him. “Which reminds me, now we're even for the ‘Tsuri Family’ event.”

Shobai didn’t say anything in response, but I caught the glimpse of a smile as he walked away.

‘Pinkie’ turned to look at me with a shocked expression. “Wait you know him?”

I nodded. “Had a few run-ins with him on the job, considering he can do the same kind of work as me, sometimes we bump into each other.”

I saw a few people look at me with a concerned expression before the conversation continued, with me zoning out again as I thought about the situation we were in more.

“We’ve got sun, sand, and surf. Why not go for a swim?” ‘Cyan’ suggested.

I just looked at her, on the outside showing no expression, but on the inside? I was screaming due to how idiotic the entire idea was. I just sighed, realizing there was no point even arguing. These people would rather pretend everything is fine than prepare for the worse.

As multiple people ran to get some kind of swimsuit I just crossed my arms leaning against the tree a bit more.

I mean on the bright side this place is pretty, living in the back alleys and hidden city routes I never got to see much other than trash most of the time.

As long as I keep watch on these delusional idiots for now I can do my best to make sure no one gets hurt.

I felt a tap on my shoulder and looked over to see Mikado, who upon seeing me waved a little.

“Oh hello, Mikado.” I said patting the spot next to me.

He perked up a little bit and leaned against the tree next to me as we watched the majority of the students play in the ocean.

At least he’s nice company compared to most of the people I’ve met so far.

I heard Yuki exclaim he was going to join the others, but…

I don’t know why but I had a gut feeling something was about to go wrong.

I went on the defensive looking around for any threats ready to take my pistol out of its holster on my waist, but just like that, I saw the albino girl from before collapse.

“What the-” I was cut off by a pounding pain in my head.

I collapsed to the ground due to the pain, seeing everyone else had lost consciousness, and now I was fighting to stay awake.

I kept breathing heavily, struggling to stay conscious and desperately trying to figure out what was happening, but I was slowly losing my vision no matter how hard I tried to fight.

I heard the crunching of sand in front of me, but I couldn’t see who it was for the life of me.

I heard whoever it was say something, but I couldn’t make out a word of it. However, it seemed like whoever the voice belonged to they were attempting to calm me down, and it was actually working somehow.

The last thing I heard was a soft shushing noise and the feeling of a hand gently brushing my hair before I finally lost consciousness.

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

Reader to Everyone Else: What the fuck Richard?

#sdra2 x reader #mikado sannoji x reader #sdra2 mikado #mikado sannoji #reader insert #super danganronpa another 2 #first fanfic #a dance of flames and distrust series #nikei yomiuri x reader

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thatforgottenbasilisk · 5 days

Text

Dear Diary

Word Count: 3621 (AO3) (My Fic Masterpost)

Originally Posted on 4/21/2024

Rating: T

Summary:

Excerpts from the diary of sixteen-year-old Todoroki Fuyumi, during and after the disaster at Ujiko Daruma's underground laboratory, which led to the escape of many unfinished Noumus and children not yet subjected to the experimentation.

For Febuwhump 2024 Day 16: Came Back Wrong

Dear Diary,

It's been three years since Touya died. It still doesn't feel real, sometimes, but I guess you never stop missing people, do you? I still say I have three brothers, sometimes. I have to correct myself. It's so embarrassing, since everyone else gets all sad and awkward about it. They keep assuming it happened recently, and I have to tell them no, it was three years ago, I'm just not over it yet.

I don't know if I'll ever really be over it.

I'm not really the eldest. Dad doesn't even refer to me like that, even though he's the one who wants to move on the most. He always calls me his "eldest daughter," or else his only daughter. I'm never just the eldest. That suits me fine.

I wonder if Shouto still remembers him. He does now, probably, though if Dad caught me bringing him up to Shouto I'd probably be beaten within an inch of my life.

Not really. He doesn't think of me the same as my brothers. He wouldn't lay a hand on me, and I don't know if that makes me lucky. Maybe it does, maybe it doesn't, but either way my only bruises are self-inflicted or accidental.

I don't know if Shouto will still remember Touya in a few years, is what I really mean. I don't know if he was too young to remember anything about him. When Shouto's a teenager, is it ever going to cross his mind that he outlived his brother? Will anyone tell him? Dad says we shouldn't say anythi

I have to go. Someone's knocking on the front door.

-----

Dear Diary,

Sorry about yesterday. It was just a salesman, going door-to-door to sell... I forget what it was. I wasn't listening, really, and I think he could tell, because he was pretty quick to leave. I don't think he knew whose house he was at, which is a good thing, I guess. Better if it's just an anonymous interaction than him knowing there could be famous people to meet or something. He would've probably asked if Dad was home, and that would've freaked me out.

I mean, what do you do in that situation? Tell some stranger that you're home alone, or make one of Dad's fans mad? He knows your home address!!

Anyway. That's not a situation I've ever encountered, with someone who's a fan coming to the door, and I hope it stays that way. Dad got home almost immediately after that, having barely missed the salesman, and I had to get started on dinner and homework and everything. I honestly forgot I just left in the middle of a page like that until today, but oh well. It doesn't matter, really, it's not like you have thoughts or anything like that.

At least Dad's working late tonight. He'll get his own food, because he doesn't expect me to make dinner for him if it means I won't go to bed early enough to be rested for school. School is all he cares about, and I don't think I mind much. I get good grades, and he doesn't look at me, and everything is fine and everything stays fine.

I think I'll just make food for Natsuo and Shouto; there are leftovers from yesterday in the refrigerator, but only enough for one person. I still mess up the portions sometimes, but at least I always make enough! I liked yesterday's dinner, too, so I'll be fine being the one to eat it. Natsuo has hockey practice today, so he'll want more food than is in that leftover box, and Shouto's picky enough that I don't think he'll even touch any leftovers. He gets persnickety about textures in his food. He doesn't usually say anything, but I pay attention; he always just pushes around things that have been reheated or anything that's mushy in a similar way.

I don't think I want to keep on the same train of thought I was on yesterday. I hope Touya's happy, wherever he is, whatever place we go to when we die. I'm not sure what I believe in, personally, and I think I'll just find out when I get there, decades from now.

Anyway. That's enough about that. I think I should get started on dinner; Natsuo's going to be home soon, and I don't want him trying to help instead of doing his homework. You know how he tries anything to put it off!

-----

Dear Diary,

There weren't any leftovers in the refrigerator yesterday. I know there was supposed to be a bowl in there, I'm not crazy, but it was gone and nobody will admit to eating it. I would believe Shouto of doing it, since if he admits to anything outside of Dad's direct approval, he's probably in for all kinds of punishment- except there's no way he would touch them, he hates reheated food. Natsuo would just admit to it. Dad wasn't there, but he wouldn't have done it either- if he got hungry or something when I wasn't there, he'd have gone to one of the places near his agency.

That just leaves me, and I didn't touch it.

It's not a big deal, I saw that it wasn't there before I started making Natsuo and Shouto's food, so I just made some for myself, but it's still weird, you know? Nobody would have taken it.

That reminds me of something that happened last week- Natsuo said his soccer ball was missing. It also wasn't really a big deal, it's hockey season right now so he's not exactly playing with it at the moment, but it was strange. Nobody other than Natsuo would've touched it, and Natsuo had only known it was missing because it wasn't under his bed, which is where he keeps it during hockey season so that it doesn't get in the way of anything else (he explained it to me when I was trying to tell him that his closet would probably be a better place to put it).

We found his soccer ball after two days. It was in Touya's old room. Nobody ever goes in there.

The room itself was almost undisturbed. There was dust on all the bookshelves, including on the books themselves, plus some of the trophies and medals he got from martial arts, back when Dad let him do that instead of Hero training. The blankets and clothes were dry-rotted, and a lot of the cloth stuff had holes where moths had gone at it.

In the center of the room was Natsuo's soccer ball, the one thing that didn't have any dust on it.

I was the one who found it. I had just kind of been looking through all the rooms, not paying a lot of attention to which doors I was opening, and I found it. I grabbed the ball and closed the window- someone must have left it open while airing the place out, the air would've gotten so stale otherwise- and decided not to think anything of it. Natsuo must have brought it in there for some reason and decided not to tell me, or else just forgot.

He's lucky that Touya's room is on the second floor- imagine if he'd left a window open on the ground floor! We'd have burglars in no time flat!

Anyway, it's all kind of weird. I would wonder if someone really did get in through that window, except if they snuck in like that, we'd be missing our expensive things, right? My jewelry box is untouched- I just checked, and everything is still exactly where it should be- and nobody's said anything about missing electronics or other expensive things. Nothing that would have reason to be stolen. Just leftovers and a displaced soccer ball.

I think I'll make extra food tonight, just as an experiment. I'll let you know if it disappears, too.

-----

Dear Diary,

The leftovers were gone again. Something is definitely up, and I want to find out what. I'm tempted to set up cameras in the kitchen, but I don't have the money to buy any. Also, I feel like anywhere I could put them would also be very visible? It wouldn't be hard to avoid cameras.

I think I'll do my homework at the dining room table tonight, after making too much food again- there's a bag of carrots I don't want to let go to waste, so I figure I'll use them all. It'll just be a change of scenery to help me study for my biology exam next week, that's what I'll tell Dad when I set up my things in there after dinner. Maybe I'll even stay up the whole night- I don't have school tomorrow, so it's not like I'll suffer for it. If anybody asks, though, this last part is an accident.

If nobody comes into the kitchen and the leftovers are still gone, then somebody in the family is stealing the leftovers without telling me. If nobody comes into the kitchen and the leftovers are still there, I'll have to come up with another way to watch what's going on.

If a stranger comes into the kitchen, Dad taught me how to use my quirk. Not a lot, of course, but enough.

-----

there's a monster in my fucking house

its tall too tall and cold cold cold all around it

fingers too long it scratched the walls how didnt i notice before

im hiding in the closet i dont know if it saw me

i saw all of its teeth. it didnt have a mouth really no cheeks no lips just teeth.

im scared

i dont wanna die

it reminded me of touya. it stole his eyes

-----

Dear Diary,

I must have fallen asleep last night without meaning to. I had a horrible nightmare, but it couldn't have been real!

I dreamed that the leftovers were stolen by some kind of monster, but that's just absurd. There aren't any scratches on the walls or anything, not like I dreamed there were. Of course, I didn't see any scratching, I just heard it, but a sound like that would've left marks!

It wasn't a quirk. If it was real, that is. If it was real, it wouldn't have been a quirk, because I know what unfortunate quirks look like and that was something else entirely. Something was wrong with that thing.

Good thing it wasn't real.

I found the bowl used for the leftovers in the sink this morning. Guess it's someone having a late-night snack! I think it might be Shouto- maybe he's figured out how to use his quirk to reheat food in a way that doesn't change its texture? That would be useful for him, I think. He already uses it to turn soba cold when he thinks I don't notice him doing it.

I think I'm going to keep studying in my room from now on. The dining room isn't good for sleeping.

-----

i can hear it in touya's old room

it's making strange noises they aren't human it isn't human it isn't it cant be

it's like a low howl

almost like crying

im writing this in the dark so it doesnt see the light from my room

it sounds like pain

i dont like it

leave me alone

-----

Dear Diary,

There is something in this hou

-----

Dear Diary,

Ghosts are real. I know it. I'm being haunted by one, I know it for certain, he's haunting us becau

-----

Dear Diary,

Ayane from school invited me over for a sleepover tomorrow night!

Dad says I'm not allowed. He doesn't know that anything is wro

-----

Dear Diary,

Sorry for ripping so many pages out. That's the last one, though, so don't worry!

Ayane from school invited me over for a sleepover tomorrow night. I asked Dad if I could go, but he said no; I have too much homework, and somebody has to clean up the house. I don't know why I can't take one night off of taking care of everything, but I guess that's just the way it is. I think he might be a little paranoid right now, too; he said something about not wanting me to be out after dark, or leaving the house for too long.

Maybe he's got a bad case going on. Sometimes he gets weird just before a big case he's involved in hits the news; the kind with lots of press conferences, and they're always the kind of press conferences where he says something "as a father," or about "my own children," or something else about my brothers and I. The reprehensible cases, with the kinds of people that remind him that at least he's not the worst father out there; he always gets twitchy, then. I think he's got one of them now, maybe that's why he's acting weird.

He's going to be home late again today, tomorrow too, he already told me, but he says he doesn't know what time for either. If he doesn't know what time, then I don't either, so I can't even sneak over to Ayane's for an afternoon. What a disappointment.

I keep having those dreams. They're nightmares, really, of the same monster that I dreamed of in the kitchen on Saturday night. I haven't told anybody the specifics, because that would be stupid, wouldn't it? A monster that looks like a distorted version of my dead brother- no, that would just be worrying people for no reason. I can keep things to myself, and if I can't, that's why I have you!

-----

Dear Diary,

Sorry for not writing for a few days. I've been kind of busy, what with Dad hardly ever being home- guess I was right about that big case. If he's here, he's in his office, writing more reports or more emails or more of whatever paperwork he has to do. I don't really care about the specifics; he's not dying when he's home, and he could be out dying when he's at work, that's about the extent of my interest in it. I don't want to go Pro, anyway, I never have and I never will, so there's nothing in it for me to go snooping in his office. I never have before.

He keeps on telling Natsuo and I not to go in there. He says we can't even glance at any of those papers, they're top secret, except he's worked on plenty of top-secret things before without being so uptight about it. He's probably telling Shouto the same thing, but neither of them have confirmed that. Shouto doesn't really talk at dinner, which is the only time I'm allowed to talk to him, and I don't want to waste that time talking about Dad.

It's all got Natsuo freaked out. I can hear him pacing over in his room, practically stomping- he's gotten so much taller in just a month, I think he's forgotten how to be quiet, at least Dad's not home to get mad at him over it- he's got all these conspiracy theories about how it has something to do with the Yakuza, or some other organized crime syndicate that could have hits out on us if we figure it out. I don't believe any of that, necessarily, but I definitely agree that it's weird.

Anyway, if Dad's not home a whole lot, it means that when he's done with this whole case, he's going to be even worse about the house being clean, and our grades being good, and everything else he has to make sure is still running well without him being there for a while. So I've been pretty busy lately, and I keep forgetting to write in a proper entry.

Proper entry! Okay!

... Nothing's really happened other than what I already wrote in for today. I got my biology exam back? I did pretty well on it. I mixed up some of the chemicals in the Krebs cycle, but other than that, I got pretty much everything else right.

My weird dreams haven't stopped, but I can't do much about it. There's no real news other than the test and that.

-----

Dear Diary,

I let my curiosity get the better of me.

-----

Dear Diary,

I'm not dreaming.

Natsuo saw it too. He can hear it at night. He says it has Touya's voice. He says he would recognize it even muffled through a thousand walls, which I think is kind of exaggerated.

Shouto hasn't seen it, though. I made sure to comment on hearing weird noises at night- I said I thought it was birds or too much wind, something stupid- and Shouto said he didn't hear anything. It would be impossible not to hear it if you were nearby, so he must not have seen it, either.

I think I might let my curiosity get the better of me again. It's not like Dad's going to be home to find out.

-----

it wasnt an accident

it cant have been

sekoto peak was planned by someone and they took him

they took him and they killed him

again

and again

-----

Dear Diary,

Natsuo's curious, too. I already told you about that, but I'm making sure his curiosity doesn't get the better of him. He's clumsier than I am, less detail-oriented, and I know Dad is very particular about his office. If anyone was to go in there, they should make sure everything looks completely untouched. Natsuo wouldn't be as careful about that as he should be.

I found papers about this underground doctor. He goes by multiple names, some of which date back to the Dawn of Quirks. His quirk is unknown, but suspected to be longevity-related for this reason.

He's apparently connected to someone whose name and all aliases are redacted. Guess even Dad doesn't have full access to that.

He's been conducting experiments. Children are taken from their homes, or off the streets, with falsified evidence of their deaths planted as needed. Then, he engineered extra quirks in them, through unknown means. Most of them died. There were pictures.

That was another reason I didn't let Natsuo see.

They found out because of an incident in Fukuoka. There was some kind of disaster, and some of them managed to escape before sustaining life-threatening injury. Most hadn't yet been experimented on, but a few had. The children are all currently wanted for questioning. Many of those who had been experimented on were able to formulate basic thoughts and perform simple or familiar tasks, such as getting on the train and navigating to their old homes.

I told Natsuo the basics. We agree on a lot of things that he thinks of that.

-----

touya's dental records were found in that lab

-----

Dear Diary,

Dad hasn't been home in days. I keep seeing him in the background of live coverage of the area around the disaster in Fukuoka, on the news, late at night. He doesn't look like he's slept at all.

He won't find what he's looking for.

-----

we know who is in our house

i want to help him

i dont know what they did to him

does he remember me?

probably not

-----

Dear Diary,

I called Dad. He didn't pick up, so I called his agency. They told me he's busy outside of Musutafu, I don't have clearance to know where. I told them that the news cameras already told me where he is, and I already know enough about the Noumu case that he doesn't, so if they could relay a message to him, that would be fantastic. I don't usually get mad at anybody that works for Dad, but I think they kind of deserved it right then. I'm sixteen, not stupid.

I told them to tell him that I said he needs to come home.

He says he'll be on his way in the morning. I guess I'm skipping school tomorrow.

Natsuo's going, though. He can't miss hockey practice, and he doesn't need to hear everything that's going to be said.

-----

Dear Diary,

I haven't written here in a while, have I?

They found Touya. He'd been hiding in his old room when he wasn't out. Apparently he'd been hiding under his bed during the day.

They questioned him on everything. I wasn't there for that bit, but there were a lot of police in and around the house for a while. Guess they weren't comfortable taking him to a holding cell, that or Dad wasn't letting them. I think it might have been some of both.

I don't know how much they can do for him. He's being treated by a bunch of the best doctors, some from other countries who were flown in for the whole thing, the same as everyone else who escaped from the lab. There's been a lot of progress!! Touya can talk now, which isn't something he could do before, but he can't say much. We don't know if he'll ever be able to use complete sentences, or use his quirk, or make it somehow known that he remembers anybody from before, but then again, nobody does. All we can do is hope.

They still haven't found that doctor, not for lack of trying. They've tracked down two more labs, each with more kids and more press coverage. I think there's a news van camped outside of the house and the hospital both, at this rate. I have to be driven to school because of the press.

Everything's turned upside down, but I don't think I'd trade it for anything. I have Touya back, no matter what form he's in, and that's enough for me.

#mha #mha fic #my writing

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chthonicrose · 4 months

Text

Find the words

@xslytherclawx-writes has tagged me in a MEME, words are "mother", "life", and "heart"

let's see what that turns up in the scrivener project that contains my entire oeuvre

I actually have quite a few files that contain all three, let's see which has them near each other

well. okay. my only option where they're all near each other is a random original fairy tale I wrote. SURE WHY NOT.

Once upon a time there was a princess who lived in a far-off land. She was bright and gay and loved best to laugh. She had beautiful waves of gleaming chestnut hair, and her shoulders were broad and her hands were strong. All the kingdom admired her beauty and said to each other that they were very lucky to have such a fine princess. She loved to ride and hunt with her father's courtiers as well as she loved to sit among her own and sew, working elaborate patterns of embroidery on the linens for her dower chest. She had learned when she was very young to keep a cheerful heart in the face of all that confronted her, and also to make known her own will, for it was by chance that a mistake had been made at the birth of this princess, and they had thought her a prince for many years, until she was grown enough to enlighten the court as to the truth. Because her mother was a wise and good queen, she saw to it immediately that her daughter was gowned as befitting a princess, and a proclamation was made that any who called the princess improperly would be fined not less than five florins, and as much as twenty guineas, depending on their wealth, or they could work for a day in the kitchens that fed the poor. Her father the king, though, worried for her marriage, because while she sat in the sun and laughed, most of the princes and princesses of an age with his daughter had been wed, and there were few left from which she could choose. "Daughter mine," the king said, "I love you better than the sun, for you light my life far more than it ever could, and I wish only to know that you will be happy after I am gone. To be a monarch alone is a hard thing, and I would be glad indeed if you would wed and have someone to stand by your side and hold you strong."

for an actually fanfic option, two separate bits of one of my attempts at writing a MGIT fic

I am not prone to dreaming myself into video games, nor have I ever lucid dreamed in my life, and I despised stories where people nearly got themselves killed by assuming real things were dreams, so the only reasonable conclusion was that I had fallen out of the Fade at the Conclave and was now the Herald of Andraste. Or would be, once I stopped the Breach from growing. Fuck me, there were a LOT of demons between me and the Breach. And a bridge collapse. I mean, video game characters can be on a bridge that explodes under them and just stand back up, but I had sensitive motherfucking joints, I'd never be able to walk again. [...] As suddenly as it had begun, it went back to nothing but a strange buzz. I slumped there, panting, and wondered if that was what the Cruciatus Curse felt like. No wonder the Longbottoms went mad. Enough pain, and there's no room for anything else. Cassandra knelt before me. "Each time the Breach expands, your mark spreads, and it is killing you." Right. Not Hogwarts. Haven. Thedas. Breach. Funny, Cassandra sounded almost like she cared. Probably shouldn't say that. She was prickly. Like a porcupine. Not like Fenris, though. Not angsty or Tevinter. Can read. Less likely to pull your heart out of your chest and let you look at it. I seemed to be somewhat punch-drunk, presumably from all the endorphins my body had let off to deal with that pain. Or something. Just because I'd passed eighth grade biology (lo these many years ago) didn't mean I really understood how human bodies worked. Come to think of it, this was not actually a human body anyway. Did Vashoth have different hormones and things? "It may be the key to stopping this, but there isn't much time."

man that's a long paragraph.

#stuff and nonsense

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nobedofroses · 2 years

Text

The Garden of Eden

Summary: Din Djarin x sex worker!fem!reader. The Mandalorian comes to you for something he can’t get from anyone else.

Word Count: 5.3k

Warnings: reader is a sex worker, discussions of sex work (including references to unsafe situations), smut (18+): blindfold, oral sex (f receiving), vaginal fingering, edging, hair pulling, biting, unprotected p-in-v sex

A/N: Hi! so this is my first Din fic, and I got the idea and I had to write it! Oh, also I want to mention that reader has a name she uses with her clients, but Din doesn’t use it in this. Thank you to @just-here-for-the-moment and @illfoandillfie for beta-reading, I hope everyone enjoys!

(gif by @beaulesbian)

⫸⫸⫸

There were plenty of benefits to working at a high-end bordello instead of the typical, seedy brothel on the planet.

You could be more choosy with your clientele, you got paid more, more gifts, better medical care. But it had taken a lot to get there. You had pledged your loyalty to your madam, and the price of straying was death. Madame Fleur had been in the business since she was a working girl herself, and it was thanks to her years-long cultivation of a client list that any of you at the Garden of Eden were able to get to this point.

All of Madame’s courtesans (including you), had started out more dangerously, working for pimps on the streets or a cheap brothel if you were lucky. But that’s exactly what made it easy for Madame to attract new employees to her establishment. When word on the street got out about a particularly good sex worker, Madame’s ears would prick up and she’d have their abilities tested by her or (once she was well established) one of her courtesans. If they were deemed up to snuff, she’d buy out their services from their current employer, and she soon had the muscle to get rid of competition if they didn’t agree to her terms. She didn’t have to worry about any of her new hires resisting; everyone knew that Madame’s employees had better lives, and a spot at the Garden was coveted by all in the game.

Because all of you had come from worse places, you all knew you were no better than any other sex workers. Yes, you had caught Madame’s eye, but that was all just timing and luck. Even Madame made it clear, “Remember there are hundreds of others just like you on the streets right now. It would be easy to bring them in to replace any one of you. But I have chosen you, and I will keep choosing you. As long as you choose me.” And the saying “you choose me,” became a shortened reminder of both her magnanimity and your debt. But as long as you followed her rules and paid your dues on time, Madame was a wonderful employer and the work itself wasn’t difficult.

You had been with Madame for a little over two years, and you had gotten enough high-paying regular clients that you could be picky with any new ones. You immediately rejected anyone into anything you weren’t comfortable with, and kept to human and near-human species for compatibility reasons. There were non-human courtesans at the Garden that would be chosen over you anyway.

A potential new client had come by that afternoon, and he had answered your questions while you gave him a sample of what he could expect during future visits, at a reduced rate of course. You were satisfied with his answers and he was very satisfied with his orgasm, and he told you to expect his business soon.

After dropping off Madame Fleur’s share of the credits at her office, you were heading back to your quarters to put your money in your safe and brush your teeth. Then you were touching up your makeup and hair when you got a soft knock on your door.

You called out, “Come in,” knowing it was one of the other courtesans because clients weren’t allowed upstairs unescorted.

The door opened slowly and a cautious face framed by dark, wavy hair peeked through. You looked at the mirror reflection and laughed, “Lilas, it’s okay, you can come in.”

Looking a little sheepish, Lilas stepped in, “Sorry, I just still feel like I shouldn’t be allowed here. Everything’s so nice.” Done with your makeup, you walked over to her and nodded, “I felt the same way when I first got here. Most of us do. Like it’s too good to be true, but you’ll get used to it in a little while. You’ll also get used to the name.”

“Yeah,” Lilas laughed. “At least it’s pretty. Some of these old names that Madame Fleur uses are plain strange. But Marguerite’s pretty too.”

You touched her arm and nodded in thanks, “Yeah we’re lucky. But what did you come up here for?”

“Oh right. Zinnia said you have a client,” Lilas said. You motioned for more information and she continued, “Um, a really big, like, metal guy? I only got a glimpse and I didn’t recognize him.”

Grinning, you got up and went back into your bathroom, “That’s just because you’re new. You’ll be able to recognize the regulars soon. And then which are the good ones. Can you bring him up here? Just leave my door open and send him in. Then you’ll get the chance to meet him too.”

As Lilas walked away with a confused look, you dabbed some perfume on the insides of your wrists, the pulse points of your neck, the valley of your breasts, just below your belly button, and the backs of your knees. And, as a last touch, you added a bit of silver eyeshadow to your inner corners, right as you heard heavy footsteps coming up the stairs.

You couldn’t help your smile as you headed back into the bedroom and leaned against the edge of the bed. Then the man you were waiting for came into view, and you chuckled as you watched him awkwardly thank Lilas. She blushed as she walked away, shooting you a look over her shoulder.

“Hey Mando,” you said cheerfully, watching as he walked in and shut the door behind him.

“Hey you,” he replied, leaning against the door with his hands folded on his lower stomach and his helmet tilted down to look at you and take in the skimpy dress you were wearing, which he knew had nothing underneath it. “New coworker? Lilas?”

You nodded, “Isn’t she cute? I hear she’s very talented.”

“Are you saying I should take my business elsewhere?” Mando asked you dryly.

Standing, you shook your head and took a few steps closer to him, “No, never. But you know I’m not always available when you are, so I just thought maybe I’d give her some help setting up her clientele.”

“Hmmph,” Mando exhaled and you took another couple steps towards him until you were only a foot away. “You know I couldn’t do everything with her.”

“No, I know. Just when you only have a little bit of time. Whenever you’re here at night like tonight, I’ll always make time for you,” you said softly, placing your hands on the gauntlets covering his forearms.

He just tilted his head and even through the helmet you could tell he was looking at you, taking in your appearance and you started to smile, knowing he was appreciating it.

“Do you like my makeup? Wanted to match,” you said with a suggestive smile.

“I won’t be able to see it,” Mando pointed out.

“Yeah, but you’ll know it’s there,” you shrugged and bit your lip.

That’s when he flipped your hands so he was holding onto your arms and used his grip to turn you around and face away from him. He held you there with a hand on your waist and with the other he dug something out of a pocket in his armor. A second later both hands were wrapping a silken scarf over your eyes, doubling it and then tying it securely but comfortably at the back of your head.

By now, when he put this on you it was like a conditioned response. You knew what it was for and you knew that he had it for this purpose and this purpose only, and you knew what was going to happen next. The light switch clicked and even though you couldn’t see before, now you could tell that you were surrounded by darkness.

The mandalorian guided you over to the bed and turned you around so you could sit back on the edge of it. Then he let you go and you knew to scoot yourself back until your back hit the multitude of pillows at the headboard. Meanwhile, you could hear the sounds of his boots coming off, then his leg and arm armor, and lastly his chest plate; you could tell what each was by the weight of the sounds as he placed the armor on a bench you had for your client’s clothing. Finally you heard cloth being folded and knew it was his cape, and then the light hiss of his helmet coming off and the soft clunk as it was set down. You shifted in anticipation, making sure your dress was up over your hips.

“Has anyone used your cunt today?” he asked in his unmodulated voice as he climbed onto the bed as well, his weight making the mattress dip.

You shook your head, “No, you’re lucky. I only had a new client interview and that’s my mouth, so it’s all you. You know, you could always book ahead of time so I could block out the whole day for you.”

His hands came to your shins and started sliding up. You were eager and would’ve parted your legs for him, but you knew he liked to do this on his own so you waited.

“I can’t risk tracking by communicating from my ship, and by the time I’m somewhere I could do so, I’m already on my way, so there’s no point,” the mandalorian’s hands were now on the outsides of your thighs.

“So, do you have a lot of time tonight?” you tried to sound casual and not impatient.

Apparently you didn’t do a very good job because he laughed, “If you’re getting impatient just from this, I don’t know how you think you’re going to handle it when I’m actually edging you.”

His blatant description of what he was going to do to you later made you gasp and you had to swallow as his hands slowly came around to your inner thighs, right near your knees, “Mando.”

It was all you could say for the moment, not desperate enough to plead, but too eager to try and make more conversation. Mando laughed as he started pushing your legs apart, and the sound as much as the action brought a heat to your lower belly.

His hands smoothed up the insides of your thighs and your muscles tensed. He was so close to where you wanted him, needed him, but you knew you couldn’t count on him making it to that destination without at least a couple detours.

The first of which, apparently, was where his hands had just been, the insides of your knees. You felt his warm, wet lips pressing open-mouthed kisses to you, and just the knowledge that he was touching you in this way was enough to make you moan. Not to mention that the skin there was sensitive and he was starting to use his teeth. You should have been used to this, it was standard fare for Mando to spend nearly 10 minutes on each leg before ever making it to your pussy when he had the time. He worshiped you with his lips, teeth, and tongue, moving up your leg only an inch at a time and leaving what felt like a thousand little marks on the way.

It always made you completely soaked for him, which you knew was part of his goal. The other part must have been fulfilling a craving for closeness and skin-on-skin contact (or more precisely mouth-on-skin contact) that he couldn’t safely get anywhere else. And even if it was torture waiting for him to get to your pussy, you were willing to give him everything he needed because you liked knowing he only got it from you. That you were special to him, and necessary in a way no one else was.

By now, he was about halfway up your thighs and you could feel your wetness started to leak down your folds. Soon you’d be dripping straight onto the bedclothes. You blindly reached for his head, something you were only allowed to do after multiple times in this arrangement and built trust since you had started with your hands bound.

Now, Mando tutted when you started threading your fingers through his hair, “I’m not gonna speed–”

“No, no, I just need something to hold to keep grounded. Please, please, I promise I’m not trying to hurry you up,” you said, trying to get him to agree.

He must have liked the whiny way you were speaking because he grunted and said, “Fine, but be good.”

You nodded, hoping he could see you and told him, “Thank you, thank you.”

Then his lips were back on you, and you got a bit of an extra hard love bite on a part of your thigh he knew was extra sensitive. It was a warning, a preemptive punishment, but he needn’t have worried, you weren’t going to do anything to jeopardize what was coming.

Finally, his mouth was at the apex of your thighs, at the skin that was barely more than an inch from your lips. Your breath quickened and you had to hold his hair tighter so you wouldn’t try and grind your hips up into his face. Mando felt the sharper tug on his hair and groaned, and you could have sworn you felt the vibration of it on your pussy through the air.

He licked in a little circle, then nipped the same area, then sucked, leaving a hickey that was just a bit more painful than usual because of the tenderness of where it was. You couldn’t help but whine, but you had no other complaint and didn’t move, so Mando just smirked to himself.

“You ready?” he asked cockily.

But you didn’t even mind, you knew you were, and so did he, “Yes, so ready for you, Mando.”

Starting with his tongue, he licked along the seam of your pussy lips, able to taste your wetness even from the outside. He groaned at the taste and you shivered, actually able to feel a little bit of the vibrations this time.

Then he was diving in, pushing his tongue through your folds, up to circle your clit, and then down into your hole. He fucked you with his tongue eagerly to warm you up and swallow all of your arousal that he desired. One of his hands that had been pressing your thighs open moved to rest on your mound and his thumb softly trailed down to the top of your slit. Slowly, almost like he had no destination in mind, he moved his thumb up and down until he found your clit and then there was no question what he was doing. He rubbed your clit in light circles, just adding a bit of pleasure to the work his tongue was doing to your cunt.

Mando did this until you were gasping with pleasure and your hips were rocking up towards his face. At this point, he didn’t really mind you doing that because he wasn’t worried about you tipping over the edge. But later, when he had you on your fourth or fifth edge, he would make sure to hold you exactly in place, either with his hands or the threat of punishment.

He moved his thumb off of you as he tongue retreated from your hole and started licking up and up. Even if he had had his eyes closed, he would’ve known when he found your clit because it was hot and firm with arousal and you made a soft little sound when his tongue prodded it.

Focusing on your clit was his favorite part of eating you out. All the other things, tasting you, feeling your walls tighten around his tongue, your hands in his hair, were great, but nothing could affect you like the attention to your clit. He knew he could make you cum just with pressure and wet friction on your clit, and better than that, he could make you slowly lose yourself in pleasure to it, becoming pliable and eager and willing for everything he would give you.

So he started with little licks, pointing his tongue and focusing on the very edge of your clit, not hitting the most sensitive part at all. You had to grab a little throw pillow with one hand and squeeze that instead of his hair so you wouldn’t risk accidentally pulling any out. After a tortuous minute of that, he switched to the flat of his tongue pressing over your entire clit and moving in wide, but soft circles. If you had been asked which was better or which was worse, you could only say whatever he was doing to you at that moment because neither would make you cum, only very, very wet.

You knew complaining would only make him torment you in this way longer, so the words coming out of your mouth were reduced to “Mando,” curses, and half-broken moans of “yes” and “so good.”

Sometime a bit later, he lifted his tongue and started using the tip to draw what you thought were either shapes or letters, on your clit. If you had really focused, you might have been able to make out a letter or two, but there was no focusing in the state you were in. The only thing you were sure of (because you had paid the little amount of attention you had to it on multiple occasions), was that the first letter was not “m,” so he wasn’t spelling out Mandalorian, etc. Which only made sense because you knew that wasn’t his name.

This part never lasted very long; whatever it was that he was writing it wasn’t long. But still, it was always a surprise when he sucked your clit into his mouth when he was done. You always gasped, your hand always tightened in his hair, and your hips always bucked up towards him. And because of all of this, Mando always moaned against you, the vibrations strong and making your knees weak.

Tonight, after only a few seconds of this, you were gasping out, “Close–” to warn him that you were on the edge. Mando relaxed his lips around you, reducing the suction but not taking his mouth off of you to let you relax a bit. You knew it was only the first of multiple edges, so you took deep breaths to speed up the calming down.

He gave you around 30 seconds and then started sucking harder again. This time, he added his tongue to the mix, teasing on your clit even as he sucked. It made you edge again quickly, but when you warned him he only stopped sucking, still running his tongue over your clit as you tried not to cum.

You got the tiniest of breaks when he lifted his head an inch to remind you, “Be good for me.”

“Ye-s M-mando,” you told him, relaxing your grip in his hair and running your fingers through it instead to show him that you were listening and going to do what he said.

He hummed as he kissed your clit and you could literally feel your wetness drip onto the comforter.

The next edge he achieved through a mix of lazy but strong licks and harsh and quick sucks that kept you dizzy. You didn’t even have time to warn him, you just tried to push him away with a gasp. Luckily, Mando was much happier that you had edged yourself for him than upset that you pushed him away, and he rewarded you with one of his thick fingers slowly entering you as you backed away from the edge.

You moaned softly and bit your lip as his finger went in up to his knuckle and he asked, voice raspy, “You like that? Like my fingers?”

Nodding quickly, you replied, “So much, Mando. Please, you can give me more, I can take it.”

There was an ache in your pussy that you knew would only be taken away with his cock, but two or three of his fingers would soothe it until then.

“Oh you can, can you? Fine,” he allowed, quickly pulling out his index finger only to just as quickly join it back inside of you with his middle finger. You gasped. “Just remember to stay still, or else you’re not going to get anything else you want.”

You swallowed and said, “Okay Mando, I promise.”

He grunted as he tilted his head back down to your pussy and started licking at your clit again. Now, three edges in, you were quickly coming up on your fourth and he didn’t even need you to tell him anymore because he could feel the changes in the way your cunt was moving around his fingers.

Pulling back and stilling his fingers, he looked up at you to watch the way you moved as you were edged. Your mouth was open, lower lip swollen from you biting it to keep from complaining. His eyes ran hungrily over your heaving chest, more pronounced because your back was arched up towards him. And your hands, he couldn’t see them because they were still in his hair, but he could feel you softly smoothing over his strands with a gentleness that contrasted how frantic he could tell you were getting based on all of the sounds you were making.

With his free hand, he reached up and pulled one of yours into his grasp. He intertwined your fingers and you moaned, saying shakily, “Oh, Mando.”

“Ready for more?” he asked you before pressing a kiss to your clit.

It took your breath away, the sweetness, the intimacy, but you nodded, “Y-yes, ple-ase.”

The first thing he did was start fucking you with his fingers again. He did it for about half a minute before pulling his fingers out of you completely. You nearly whined at the loss, consequences be damned, when he started pressing them into your pussy again, this time joined by a third. The stretch made you gasp and you clenched around his fingers, willing him deeper.

He started fingering you faster and leaned back down to suck your clit into his mouth. At this point you were barely holding on and moved the hand that was still in his hair to slap over your mouth so you wouldn’t complain.

But the mandalorian didn’t like that either, lifting his head quickly to tell you, “Don’t cover your mouth,” before he bit into your thigh as a punishment and then went back to your clit.

So instead you moved your hand to your own hair and pulled, hoping that the pain would help keep you from going over. Mando looked up at your hand in your hair, how you were desperately pulling at it to ground yourself and moaned, the vibrations strong and overwhelming on your clit.

“Stop!” you cried out, trying your best to pull away from him as the pleasure nearly took over. Mando did stop in time, and while it was the most disappointing and maddening feeling to feel your pleasure ebb away, you knew it was what he wanted and that’s exactly what you were willing to do. You panted, “I was gonna cum, I was gonna cum.”

He’s blown away by your self-control, by your obedience, and his cock throbbed in his pants, needing release. After he kissed your clit one last time and as he carefully pulled his fingers from you, he said, “Fuck, good girl,” in such a reverent voice that you whined.

Letting go of your hand, he got up off the bed. You knew it was so he could undress the rest of the way, but you hated for him to stop touching you. You wanted to reach out and pull him on top of you half clothed, but you weren’t sure if he would like that, so you waited with your hands tucked under your thighs. Mando liked that, seeing that you were being so good for him and feeling his cock twitch as he took off his layers. Last was his underwear, with a large damp spot at the front where his cock had been leaking precum. He groaned as he took them off, his cock free before he fisted it to give himself some relief.

You could hear the sound of his hand working his cock and whimpered, upset that it wasn’t your hand touching him, and this time you couldn’t stop your hand from reaching out.

“Wha-t’s wrong? You want my co-ck?” he asked, voice full of condescension but a little shaky from jerking himself.

“Yes, yes,” you breathed, going as far as leaning forward to try and get to him. But he just stepped closer and pushed on your shoulder so you would lay back again.

“Stay still for me. Be a good girl and I’ll fuck you until you cum,” Mando told you and your breath hitched with excitement. “Also take off the dress.”

Nodding quickly, you took off your dress as fast as you could without disrupting your blindfold. As you tossed aside the piece of clothing, you felt Mando climbing onto the bed and then coming between your parted legs. His bare skin brushed against yours and you shivered despite how warm he was. Once he was close enough, both of his hands came to your thighs, pushing them wide open and using them to brace himself. You smiled as his hard, hot cock rested on your slit and then gasped when he shifted and his head nudged your clit.

Mando bent his head down so his mouth was right next to your ear, “Put it in.”

Rushing to grab his cock and line it up with your cunt, you guided the tip in as he started pushing his hips forward. You moaned as he thrusted in, and when he’s to the hilt he moaned too, in satisfaction. His breath on your neck and the sound in your ear added to his cock finally filling you made you clench around him. If you could’ve moved your hips at all, you would’ve tried to rock against him or wrap your legs around him so he would move.

But you couldn’t, so you said, “Oh, please, Ma-ndo, p-please.”

He brushed his lips against your jaw, “Please what?”

“Fuck me, please fuck me,” you begged him, knowing that at this point he’s not going to deny himself pleasure and wants you to show him how much you want it. You brought your hands to his waist and dug your nails in, “I need your cock to fuck me.”

Mando liked this very much, grunting, “Yes,” and then starting to piston his cock in and out of you at a steady pace. You panted as he fucked you, feeling yourself get closer yet again just from the friction and pressure of his cock.

All of his moans were muffled by your neck as he bit and sucked at your skin. How hot and wet his mouth was made you a little dizzy, and so did the idea that he was marking you. He lifted his head for a second, paused, and then leaned back down and kissed the spot he had just been sucking on. You shivered and squirmed underneath him.

“Like that? Like me marking you?” he asked breathily, one hand moving from your thigh back down to your clit.

“Uh– uh-huh, ah, oh,” was all you could even kind of say as the pleasure started building faster and faster.

“Good,” he moaned, snapping his hips up into you. And then in a growl low enough you couldn’t understand in the moment, “‘cause you’re mine.”

But even just the feeling was enough and you gasped out, “C-cum– I’m–”

Before you could try to finish your warning, Mando cut you off, “Yes, fuck, cum on my cock.”

With his permission it’s all you could do, crying out “M-mando–” as you started clenching around his cock again and again, your back arching and muscles tightening all over as the pleasure burst through you and you lost your breath. You came for what felt like forever, his cock fucking you through your entire orgasm and his lips pressing kisses to your neck and whispering words into your skin that you couldn’t understand but helped you through it. Slowly, you started coming down and regaining your breath, making small, fucked out sounds that the mandalorian couldn’t get enough of.

His cock throbbed inside your cunt, close from your orgasm and from being achingly hard the entire time he was eating you out.

When you could finally string a couple words together you told him, “Want you to cum, too.”

The way you phrased it makes him shudder because it’s like he’s not paying you for this, like this was a real moment between the two of you. And what really got him, was maybe it was.

“Fuck, fuck, your cunt,” he moaned and just his words made you have another aftershock, squeezing around his cock once more. That did it and he started cumming, slamming his hips into you three more times before holding there and pumping his hot cum inside of you, filling you up. He just moaned “yes” over and over again, head falling to your shoulder, and you moved a hand to the back of his neck, scratching over his skin lightly.

As Mando came down, you hummed, “Your cum always feels so good inside of me.”

“Shit, why would you say that?” he asked, cock twitching inside of you.

You giggled, “Because it’s true. And you can trust me on that, I have a lot of experience.”

Mando chuckled along with you, and nipped over your pulse point before lifting his head. You still couldn’t see him, but you could tell he was right in front of you and you swallowed. His breath got closer and closer to you, and your mouth parted in anticipation.

The mandalorian only ever kissed you once per visit, but it was every visit. Your heart quickened as you felt the air shift between the two of you. Then his lips brushed yours and you tilted your face to fit his. The kiss was soft and slow but underneath was the possibility for more, much more. He nipped your upper lip and you moaned, then you returned the favor by softly sucking on his lower lip. It was a short back and forth that left you wanting, but you knew better than to push it.

Once Mando broke the kiss, you leaned up quickly to kiss his jaw, just a peck, and he chuckled. He started to pull out then, carefully. In a perfect world, you would tell him to stay. But this was still your job, and you couldn’t afford to be that sentimental.

He flopped down next to you on his back and you sighed happily.

“Are you gonna stay the night?” you asked lightly, actually casual this time.

“You kicking me out?” he joked.

You smiled, “Never. Just wondering if I should take off the blindfold and shower now or wait to do both until you’re gone. And whether I need to order dinner for two.”

There was a pause as the mandalorian thought, “Well, what’s for dinner?”

⫷⫷⫷

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queen-haq · 3 years

Text

Fic: A Woman Scorned - Part 17

Pairing: Billy Russo x Reader

Rating: R for language and smut.

Words: ~3300 words.

Summary: You’ve been sleeping with Billy Russo for a few months now. Knowing his aversion to emotional commitments, you’re satisfied with your clandestine arrangement until you catch him having dinner with Dinah Madani one night. Then it finally dawns on you. It’s not that he doesn’t want to commit, he just doesn’t want to commit to *you*.

Billy may think he knows you, but he has no idea what he’s just lost…

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16

Part 17

Billy couldn’t stop gawking at you, wondering how it was possible you grew more beautiful each time he saw you. The red wrap dress you were wearing accentuated all your curves, and it took every bit of willpower he had not to rip it off of you and fuck you senseless right then and there. Unfortunately, he had to behave himself. Caravan was a pretty bouji place that had recently been labelled as one of the hottest restaurants in Manhattan and he had to pull a few strings to get a last-minute reservation for tonight. But seeing the smile on your face when you realized this was where you were dining had been completely worth all the hassle.

As the hostess guided the two of you to your table, he noticed a few assholes at the bar admiring you from afar. Immediately he snaked his arm around your waist to draw you in closer. You were his. If he could he’d pluck out every one of those fuckers’ eyes so they never made the mistake of looking at you again. Better yet, he’d keep you locked behind closed doors. Of course you wouldn’t agree to anything like that because you were too goddamn independent for your own good.

“What’s wrong?” you asked, taking a seat at your designated table.

Billy’s attention returned to your face as he followed suit, his gaze inhaling you in. “You look too hot. Too many assholes staring at you,” he grumbled.

The worried look on your face was replaced with a beaming smile, one that made his cock twitch.

“You’re being ridiculous” you remarked, scanning the menu.

His eyes drifted down to your chest, the swell of your soft, supple breasts just begging to be kissed and licked by him.

“Stop staring at my boobs, Billy,” you chastised even as a small smile graced your lips. “This is a proper first date. You can’t just ogle me like that. You have to behave like a gentleman.”

He quirked his eyebrow. “Sweetheart, I’ve never been that.”

“Well, try,” you ordered.

The waitress came by with the bottle of red wine you’d requested and poured some in both of your glasses. He noticed the redhead giving him a friendly smile, her green eyes lingering on him for a second too long. Fine, yeah, she may have been hot but she wasn’t you. No one was. So while he would have happily slipped her his number in the past, now the idea of being with someone who wasn’t you no longer excited him.

Once she left, he took the opportunity to move a few inches closer to you. What he really wanted was to get on his knees and bury his head between your legs, but something told him eating you out in in the crowded restaurant wouldn’t go over very well with you.

“I think she likes you.”

Hand propped on the back of your chair, he started playing with your hair. “Who?”

“Our waitress. She didn’t look at me once, her eyes were on you the entire time.”

He leaned in, ecstatic at the thought of you acting possessive. Even though you’d confessed to having feelings for him, Billy still worried you were ready to bolt at any moment. To see you jealous meant you genuinely cared and he didn’t have to worry about you leaving him. “She’s not my type. I have my eyes on someone else.”

You made a show of looking around the restaurant. “Oh, is Madani here too?”

“Funny,” he retorted, taking your hand in his.

“Your ginger’s lucky. I’m dressed way too nice or I’d take my knife and stab her with it.”

He smirked. “You’re vicious when you’re jealous.”

“I’m not jealous. I just don’t like bad service.”

“Bullshit.”

“Billy, you’re hot. You know that. All the women here are checking you out. If I freaked out every time someone did that, I’d have a breakdown.”

He wanted to destroy the fucking world at the thought of someone even looking at you but apparently you were simply ambivalent about him. “So it’s that easy for you? Your brain tells you to turn off a feeling and your heart just does it?” Even to his own ears he sounded bitter. “Guess you’re not all that invested in me.”

Your eyebrow quirked up, apparently surprised by his edgy tone. “Do you want me to go nuts?”

“Just want you to give a damn.”

“You think I don’t?” you snapped. “Every time she looks at you I want to tear her hair out. Even though the rational part of me knows she’s probably just flirting with you because it’s part of her job or she’s hoping for big tips. Or maybe she really does want to fuck you. Either way, I want to punch her across the face. Happy?” You gulped down your wine.

Grinning, he squeezed your hand. “Then why not just tell me that? Why act like you don’t care?”

The agitated expression on your face was replaced with tenderness, your eyes soft. “Just because I don’t have a jealous fit doesn’t mean I don’t care. I just…” You exhaled a sigh, and he sensed this was difficult for you. “I express my emotions differently than you.”

“I noticed. You put on an act while holding everything in.”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“But I want you, the real you, not the version everyone else sees.”

“It’s not that easy, Billy.”

He brought your palm to his lips. “I’d never told anyone about my mother.”

“You didn’t tell me either,” you pointed out.

“You found out anyway, and I’m so fucking glad you did. Otherwise I wouldn’t have realized I could be real with you.” He placed a tender kiss on your skin. “I don’t want to hide anything from you, Y/N.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

“Then tell me about William Rawlins.”

Your request gave him pause, his eyes roaming over your face. He’d taken painstaking measures to keep his partnership with Rawlins a secret yet you’d discovered it. “What do you want to know?”

“He gave you a lot of money.”

“I earned that money,” he said in a defensive tone. “He and I were partners for a while. Then he died.”

“You went to a lot of trouble to hide your connection to him.”

“You found out about it though.”

You shrugged your shoulders. “I’m good at what I do.”

“Yeah, too good,” he muttered. He released your hand, watching you intently. “So what do you want to know?”

You leaned in closer, your voice barely above a whisper. He was momentarily distracted by the sensation of your tits pressed against him but he forced himself to concentrate.

“What happened to Rawlins, did you have anything to do with it?”

Billy took a swig of his wine. “Why do you think that?”

You quirked your eyebrow at him. “Knifed by someone in the parking lot. They never found the guy who did it.”

“He had a lot of enemies,” he pointed out.

“Okay, so maybe I was wrong.”

He studied you for several seconds, trying to decide if he should take the leap or not. “You’re not wrong.”

Realization dawned on your face as the truth set in. “Why did you do it?”

“You sure you want to know?”

“I’m asking, aren’t I?”

So he told you, about Operation Cerberus, his role in it and the money he earned, how he’d eliminated Rawlins a year ago when the prick plotted to take out Frank and his family. To this day Frank didn’t know about Billy’s partnership with Rawlins or how close he came to dying and he intended to keep it that way.

Throughout his confession his eyes were glued to your face, gauging your reactions. The part of him determined to do anything to be a success, the one who didn’t let society’s morals get in the way of his ambitions, would never be accepted by his closest friends. Despite the myriad of reasons to have kept that side of himself hidden, he didn’t want to do that with you. Because as risky as it was to be so open with you, it was also exhilarating. There was no one in this world he’d ever been this honest with and that kind of intense connection with you was addictive. He wanted you to know everything about him, all of the dark and vicious thoughts that ran through his head, the burning ambition that kept pushing him forward. He wanted you to know him inside and out and he wanted the same from you.

Before he could prod you to speak your mind the server came by with your dishes, setting your meals on the table. The redhead took her time, all the whilst your gaze was focused on the table, avoiding his. Billy’s heart started to pound in his chest, he was suddenly filled with doubt. Had he made a mistake in telling you the truth? Did he just completely fuck this up? Every second the goddamn redhead lingered at the table felt like an eternity when all he wanted was to shake you out of your stupor.

The second the server left, he moved in on you. “Are you gonna say something?”

You finally looked at him, your forehead burrowed. “We need to do a better job of hiding your history with Rawlins. I found it, that means someone else can too.”

“You gonna help me with that?”

You shook your head ‘yes’. “Yeah, I have to. You need me.”

“What I did doesn’t bother you?”

You exhaled a heavy sigh. “Of course it does, but there’s nothing I can do about it. You’ve seen me at my worst and you didn’t judge me. I won’t do that to you either. Besides, when the universe deals you a shitty hand you’ve got to find other ways to even out your odds.”

A strange feeling of warmth flooded over him, compelling him to angle forward and kiss you on the lips.

You pulled away a second later, smiling at him as you rubbed the corner of his mouth. “This lipstick isn’t kiss-proof.”

“I don’t care.” Wicked visions of you flashed through his mind. Your bold red lips wrapped around his cock, sucking him off the way he liked it. His cum spread over your tits, your neck, your lips. The taste of your sweet, delicious cunt on his tongue as he fucked you with his mouth. The heat of your tongue against his as he rammed into you over and over-

“Stop looking at me like that,” you warned.

“Then stop looking so hot,” he snarked.

You smiled, biting down on your bottom lip.

It blew his mind how sweet and shy you were when he paid you compliments, like you didn’t expect that from him. Obviously he needed to fix that, because you deserved to know how insanely beautiful you were all the time.

“Has Anvil been okay without Rawlins?” you asked, taking a bite out of your butternut squash ravioli.

Swallowing his steak, he wiped his mouth with a napkin. “It was tough for a while but we’ve been doing pretty well the last few months.”

“You should be proud of what you’ve accomplished, Billy. You took a big risk going into business for yourself and you made it work. That’s amazing. I could never do that.”

Billy’s insides radiated with happiness. Other than Curtis and Frank he never really had people who genuinely believed in him so to have you cheering him on was exalting. Especially considering you were great at what you did and he had so much respect for you.

He poured himself and you more wine before reaching for your hand again. “I think you could. You’d make a shitload of money if you freelanced.”

You shook your head ‘no’. “No way, I’m too much of a coward to take a risk like that.” You took a sip of your wine. “Plus I get to go to Paris for work.”

“Or you could go to Paris on vacation and not work.”

“Then I’d have to pay for it,” you pointed out, grinning. “When you grow up the way I did, you learn to appreciate free things.”

Your enthusiasm was infectious, he couldn’t hep but smile back. A part of him was hoping this would be the perfect opening for you to talk more about your childhood, about everything you went through, because he desperately wanted you to trust him as much as he trusted you with his secrets.

“I’ll be there for two weeks,” you continued, oblivious to his disappointment. “We’re going to scout out locations for the new branch and-”

“We?” Billy interjected.

You cast him a quick glance. “Roger’s coming with me on the trip.”

The jealousy that struck him felt like a swift kick to his gut. Images of you and that goddamn bastard traipsing around and enjoying romantic date nights in Paris assaulted his mind. Agitated, he pulled his hand from yours. “I bet that fucker can’t wait to be alone with you.”

“Billy, come on. You can’t be serious.”

“How would you feel if I took off with someone who wanted to fuck me?”

“First of all, he doesn’t want me.”

His jaw clenched with frustration as he glared at you. “I’ve seen the way he looks at you. He’s thought about fucking you.”

“Even if he does, I don’t want him.” You reached out to cup his face, your voice so soft and tender in your attempts to placate him that he momentarily forgot how upset he was. “You really think I’d jeopardize what we have for a fling with Roger? I wouldn’t do that.”

“Then don’t go. Turn him down.”

Irritation flickered over your face, he could tell you were done coddling him. “Billy, you have no right to ask me that. I’d never interfere with your work.”

Underneath all that jealousy he knew you were right. As much as he despised the idea of you going away to Paris with another guy, he couldn’t demand that you not go on work trips. If you did that to him, it would annoy the fuck out of him. Yet despite his rational side recognizing he was asking for too much, he couldn’t help but feel bitter. “That asshole’s gonna make a move on you, I know it.”

“What if he does? What do you think is gonna happen?”

Hs eyes met yours, urgently seeking some kind of validation from you. “You tell me.”

“Do you think I’m going to sleep with him?”

He flinched. “Don’t talk about fucking another guy, please. You’re gonna make me lose my appetite.”

You took his hand and placed it over your left breast, probably to distract him from all the disgusting images that were running through his brain. “I wanted you so badly and even then it took me like a month to fuck you. Trust me, I’m not going to sleep with him when I’m not even attracted to him.”

Spotting the earnestness in your eyes, the knot in his stomach finally loosened. Roger may have had a hard-on for you but Billy knew you felt nothing for the fucker. He’d noticed that even at the night of the gala. So that meant he had to trust you, there was no reason not to. “Call me every night when you’re there,” he grumbled.

“Every night? You’re probably going to start blocking my calls,” you laughed.

He booped your nose. “Every. Fucking. Night.”

You beamed. “Fine.” A wicked glint flashed in your eyes, a seductive smile on your lips as you slowly moved his hand lower, his fingers now on your nipple. “Hey, just ‘cause you’re not there with me doesn’t mean we can’t have fun.”

He stroked your nipple over the fabric of your dress, enjoying how the nub hardened under his touch, the way your breath hitched in your throat when he continued his ministrations. With his other hand he tucked your hair behind your ear, whispering to you. “Phone sex is alright, but nothing beats this.” His tongue curved along the shell of your ear, and you trembled against him. “Right?”

The waitress seemed to come out of nowhere this time to ask how your meals were, and you jumped back. Disappointed, he sighed.

“Food was great. Thank you,” you replied, smiling stiffly at the redhead.

“Can I get you anything else?”

“Privacy would be great,” Billy muttered.

You kicked him under the table. “Dessert menu?”

“Sure. I’ll bring it right over,” the waitress said, taking your plates away.

“I’ll give you all the sugar you want once we get outta here,” he murmured seductively, caressing your thigh.

You giggled, rolling your eyes. “That’s a terrible line!” You took his hand and removed it from your thigh. “Billy, I’m not sleeping with you tonight.”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s our first date and I don’t put out on the first date.”

“Now that’s a terrible line,” he fired back, mimicking your earlier tone.

“Also, we already had sex this morning.”

“So? I’m greedy. I can’t get enough of you.” There was that shy smile of yours again, and he reached out to give you a sweet peck on the cheek. “You blush every time I tease you.”

“I do?”

“Yeah, it’s adorable.”

Your cheeks grew even more red. “I’m not used to it from you. A part of me still thinks you’re bullshitting me.”

Billy stiffened. “Really?”

“I know you’re not playing me,” you reassured. “It’s on me, not you. I just have a hard time accepting when good things happen.”

The waitress came by with the dessert menu. He briefly glanced at it before ordering a slice of pecan pie while you ordered a piece of chocolate cake.

As soon as the redhead left, he broached the topic with you again. “I’m not gonna hurt you, babe. You have to believe that.”

You didn’t look at him, your eyes fixed somewhere on his chest. “I do. You were so pissed off at me last night. I honestly expected you to hit me because you were so angry. But you didn’t.”

It made him sick to his stomach that you actually thought him capable of hitting you. It hadn’t even occurred to him that you would worry about that, but of course you would. With your childhood it made perfect sense, he was just a fucking idiot who hadn’t realized how much it still impacted you. “I’m never gonna lay a hand on you. I swear.” His eyes locked with yours, hoping you can sense how much he meant those words.

“I believe you.”

His voice was insistent, his gaze boring into you. “Why did you think I would?”

Your eyes wavered from his eyes to his lips for a long time, the atmosphere thick with tension. Your facial expressions ran the gamut of painful emotions, from uncertainty to fear to sheer panic.

It finally sank in that maybe the reason you were keeping the truth from him had noting to do with if you trusted him or not. Maybe you didn’t want to be assaulted by memories from the past that caused you so much pain. The last thing he wanted was for you to experience that hell again. Regretting his demanding tone, his hands caressed down the length of your arms. “You don’t have to tell me, It’s okay.”

Your eyes brimmed with aching vulnerability as you looked up at him. “I want to… I just… give me some time, okay?” You pressed your lips against his, giving him the softest, sweetest kiss. “I’ve been looking forward to tonight for so long, I don’t want to ruin it, you know?”

His heart felt full, his mind reeling with wonderment at the thought of you truly reciprocating his feelings. His arms wrapped around you as you sank into him, burying your face in his chest. His fingers stroked the back of your hair, murmuring soft, soothing words to you. Somewhere in the distance he heard the server’s voice trying to interject, but he didn’t give a damn. He was yours and you were his and nothing was going to ruin that. Nothing.

Part 18

A/N - I realize not much happened in this chapter but I just reallly wanted to write a dialogue heavy part where they simply get to know and enjoy each other. I think they’ve earned some fluff. LOL.

As always, thank you for your kind words of encouragement. Please let me know your thoughts.

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#billy russo x reader #billy russo #ben barnes #billy russo x you #the punisher #a woman scorned

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yourdeepestfathoms · 3 years

Text

self-help

y'all liked my first fic, so here is another!

TW: Blood and injury; wound descriptions

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

“Are you all alright?” Alcina asked, looking over each of the three creatures assembled in front of her. The blonde was slightly roughed up, but still stood up tall; the brunette bore a particularly nasty cut across her cheek, though it didn’t seem to bother her; and the redhead was slathered in man blood from getting to kill the intruder that had foolishly entered their castle and tried to murder them.

“Yes, Mother,” the blonde said, always quick to answer Alcina.

Alcina nodded. She looked at her other two daughters. “And you two?”

“I’m okay,” the redhead chirped. She seemed delighted to have killed something that day.

The brunette lightly touched the cut on her cheek, winced, then nodded, “I’m fine. It isn’t that bad.”

“We should still make sure any of that man-thing’s filth didn’t get into you,” Alcina said. She opened an arm and began guiding her middle child down one of the hallways. “Daniela, do what you will with the body. You’ve earned it.”

The redhead perked up, beaming, and bounded down a different hallway to where the corpse of the man had been left. Once she was gone, only the blonde was left behind in the foyer, and the girl instantly doubled over with a moan of pain, holding her stomach.

“Fuck,” Bela hissed. She was lucky for the dark material of her dress or else the blood seeping through the fabric would have easily been seen by her mother and sisters, and worrying them was the last thing she wanted. It was her own fault that she was shot. There were better things for them to focus on, anyway. Like Cassandra’s cut! Yes, that was definitely more important. She didn’t need any help.

Bela stepped forward and immediately crumpled to her knees when a spasm of pain rippled through her stomach. She bit down firmly to keep from crying out and tasted blood when her teeth pierced her tongue. Usually, the metallic tang would be rather appetizing, but something about it right now made her guts churn and twist up into knots, which definitely didn’t help her discomfort.

Kneeling, still holding her stomach, Bela rocked back and forth while taking several calming breaths. Breathing deeply furthered the strain in her stomach, while not breathing at all just made her chest hurt- she couldn’t win. All she could do was grit her teeth and bear with it like she did with everything. Don’t be a burden, don’t be a burden.

“Lady Bela?”

Bela looked up. A wiry, ash brown-haired maid was lingering at the opening of one of the cavernous hallways, shifting on her feet. Her dark amber eyes displayed nervousness, curiosity, and worry. The last emotion wasn’t an uncommon thing to see, at least towards Bela. Because of her general politeness to the castle workers, they tended to show more concern over her. The perks of not killing them for no reason, she supposed.

“Yes?” Bela said, forcing her voice to stay level and not quaver beneath the fiery edge of her own agony. She didn’t want to cause a scene, but she especially didn’t want to cause a scene in front of a maid. That was almost as bad as her sisters seeing her in such a state--though, for what it was worth, the maids wouldn’t tease her endlessly.

“Are you alright?” the maid asked, taking a small step forward. She was looking Bela up and down, most likely searching for any wounds, and Bela once again thanked Mother Miranda for black fabric.

“Yes, I’m fine,” Bela answered. At the same moment, however, a second wave of pain roared through her and her vision was suddenly spotted by black snow. Did someone open the window? And how long had snow been black? None of her books ever said anything about this…

“Lady Bela?”

Bela blinked harshly, and the storm disappeared. No windows were open. Snow was not black. The maid got closer.

“Ahh--” Bela swallowed hard. “Yes?”

“Are you sure you’re alright?” The maid seemed to be trying to hold herself together. She was probably fearing for her own life if something happened to one of Lady Dimitrescu’s daughters under her watch. Bela would prefer to not have this one die, as she was nice enough to actually check on her instead of ignoring the situation like other maids would, even if Bela denied her physical state when she asked how she was.

“Yes, yes,” Bela said, nodding. “I’m alright. Just…stomach cramps?”

The maid blinked. “Do you even go through a menstrual cycle?”

Bela splayed her fingers open with a shrug. “Your guess is as good as mine.”

The maid actually laughed, which was a rare thing to happen. But the laughter was quickly cut off when her eyes focused on something, clouding over with concern, and Bela realized she was staring at her hands.

There was blood on her hands.

Her blood.

Bela balled her fists and cleared her throat. She looked up at the maid. “Go.”

The maid opened her mouth, but thought against whatever she was planning on saying, not wanting to test Bela’s civility--not that Bela would have hurt her if she had stuck around to speak whatever was on her mind. She dipped her head and scurried off, glancing over her shoulder as she went.

Bela sighed. She wiped her hands on a part of her dress that wasn’t damp. She needed to do something about her problem before her mother or one of her sisters found out.

Standing up was difficult, and Bela was sure Cassandra or Daniela, most likely both, would have teased her if they saw her like this. When she began to walk, she felt blood slither in slow trails down her legs, itching her skin. She fought the urge to scratch until she made it to the privacy of her bedroom, then instantly began shredding her dress with her claws, throwing the tatters of wet fabric to the floor to be picked up later. Once the gown was off, she turned to her mirror to inspect the damage.

Red. The entire front of her body was smeared in red. And beneath the red, there were holes, some as small as her pinky, some as big as a coin, each even darker than the blood and packed full of shrapnel.

Bela had been a fool to go after the man-thing on her own. As reckless and wild as Cassandra and Daniela were with their fighting, they were strong, much stronger than she was. She had seen them withstand vicious stabs and strikes and shots that would have killed any normal person and keep slashing their claws as if nothing had happened, but it took a blast from a shotgun to put her down. She was so blinded by the idea of killing the intruder to impress her mother that she didn’t even think to create an actual plan until she became well-acquainted with leaden bullet chunks against her midsection.

The buckshot was evenly spread out along her abdomen, and maybe it could have passed as paint splattered all over her body if it wasn’t for the malevolent grey peeking out from liquid red. There was a particularly large cluster of holes on her left side, where an entire chunk of meat had been blown free from her waist, but they reached all the way over to her navel and up to the underside of her chest. The bullet pieces were the seeds of her agony, and she desperately needed to reap them from her flesh.

Bela began rummaging through one of her drawers, straining the lead lodged in her skin, and pulled out an old cotton gown she hadn’t worn in years. She walked over to the rocking chair in the corner near the window and sat down. She loved this chair, and it was a shame that it was going to be bled all over, but wood was easier to clean than cloth. She didn’t want to risk staining her bed right now.

Biting down on the gown, Bela began going over the buckshot. There were eighteen holes in total, all of them full of lead. She nearly miscounted a few times because she thought some of them were empty, but then realized the bullets were just buried in her tissue. There was one in particular that she didn’t even see, but could feel shifting around beneath her flesh like a hungry maggot. It made her stomach roil in disgust.

This was not going to be fun.

Bela’s hands were shaking as she brought them down to her stomach. Simply brushing the skin sent waves of torture shivering through her nerves, and she didn’t even want to think about what it was going to feel like to actually remove the slugs, but she didn’t have much of a choice. She couldn’t just leave them inside of her.

Taking a deep breath and biting down hard on the gown, Bela stuck her pointer finger and thumb into one of the holes. Instantly, her vision flashed black, then red, and then white, and she was sure she had passed out for a few eternal seconds. Even when she pried her eyes back open, all she saw was a messy mishmash of swirling colors, and she wondered if she had somehow gone blind. But then sight slowly oozed back to her, and she was able to see the grotesque image of her fingers stretching the edges of a bullet hole.

She swallowed down acidic bile and grasped the sides of the piece of lead.

For a moment, the stubborn little thing didn’t want to come out, and Bela began to fear that it was just a part of her now, forever fused with her flesh, burrowed within her like a leaden parasite, but then it popped out with a small spew of blood and she was able to catch her breath. She dropped the ball, which was no bigger than her pinky finger, and watched it bounce across the floor before rolling beneath her bed. She would get it later. Right now, she had its stupid siblings to deal with.

Breathing in deeply again, clamping down on the gown like before, Bela dug her fingers into a second hole that looked easy enough to scoop out. And it was, surprisingly. The blood proved to be a helpful lubricant and the bullet slid right out when she tugged, not bothering to put up a fight. She peered at it for a moment, squinting her watery eyes.

“You are an asshole,” she spat.

The bullet winked at her in response, the bright red blood coating its surface catching on the light inside the room and making it twinkle like a ruby. She flicked it away, and it left a line of crimson across her polished floors. She would clean that up later, too.

Third time’s a charm. Bela prepared herself again, breathing in and biting down, and dove into the next hole.

She didn’t know why she thought the process of pulling out bullets would suddenly be easier just because she succeeded with the first two. She was an idiot when she had gotten shot and she was an idiot now, trying to rid herself from the consequence of her actions.

Her claws slipped on the slickness of her blood and accidentally pushed the bullet in deeper.

Bela would have screamed if it weren’t for the blood that crawled up her throat, clogging her esophagus. She coughed, thinking that the bullet was going to come out of her mouth, and red splattered across her bare chest, staining her bra. Tears sprang to her eyes and poured down her cheeks. Her shaking hands hovered over the hole, but she couldn’t see the slug anywhere.

“Oh no, no, no, no,” Bela muttered. Did she push it so deep it breached one of her organs? What would happen if it did? How was she going to get it out?

She tried to stretch the edges of the wound, but stopped when she nearly threw up from the pain. She sobbed. What was she going to do? Bela leaned back against the chair, causing it to rock slowly. Maybe she could just leave the bullets inside of her. They probably wouldn’t kill her. She and her sisters were able to endure more than normal creatures could, so it would probably just be very uncomfortable. For the rest of her life.

She swallowed blood and bile. Having to spend the rest of eternity like this didn’t sound very appealing. In fact, it sounded like the complete opposite of appealing. Unappealing.

A sound snapped Bela out of her muddled thoughts; the doorknob was wiggling. Someone was coming into her room.

Lunging forward, nearly slipping on a tiny puddle of her blood, Bela slammed the door shut before it could be opened completely and pressed her weight against it. From the other side, she heard a noise of surprise.

“Bela? What is the meaning of this?”

Her heart sank into her bullet-infested insides. It was her mother. She just slammed the door in her mother’s face. Oh, she was in for it now.

Bela nearly opened up right then and there and got down on her knees to apologize, but one glance down at her horribly-scathed body made her think better of it. She had told Alcina that she was fine, and now she needed to live up to it, even if she felt like she was being swarmed and eaten by her own insects. She had to swallow down her hopeless devotion to her mother to keep her from worrying over her.

“Sorry,” Bela said, hoping her voice wasn’t wavering as much as she thought it was. “I, uhh-- I thought you were Cassandra or Daniela. They always barge into my room without knocking. I don’t appreciate it very much.”

It wasn’t exactly a lie, but she still didn’t feel good about making up an excuse.

From out in the hallway, Alcina was quiet for a moment, and Bela wondered if she was going to break down the door and let herself in. But then she chuckled and said, “I see. I remember the time you tried to set traps for them when they kept interrupting your reading time.”

Bela laughed, which morphed into a groan of pain when her stomach strained. SHe masked it with a cough, then replied, “They were good traps!”

“Darling, you set up a board full of nails for them to step on.”

“My point still stands.”

“And a tripwire that would trigger a pot to swing into their face and knock them out.”

“You got to admit that it was pretty impressive that I was able to make that.”

Alcina chuckled again. “Yes, you have always been my most resourceful little one.”

Bela’s chest warmed with pride. The praise momentarily made her forget about the pain she was in.

“Now, can you let me in? I need to talk to you.”

And like that, the pain was back, the soothing warmth chased off by icy cold dread. Did her mother know? Did that maid snitch on her? She swallowed thickly.

“Umm-- can’t we just talk like this? It’s just as effective.”

“I would prefer it if I was able to see you when I speak to you,” Alcina said. She paused for a moment. “Why can’t I come in?”

“I’m-- I’m naked.”

Also wasn’t a lie, technically.

Alcina was quiet for a moment.

“Bela, I watched you come out of a mass of insects as naked as a babe. I do not think there’s anything left to be seen that I don’t know about already.”

You’d be surprised, Bela thought, looking down at her marred form.

“It’s-- it’s just embarrassing for me!”

Alcina sighed. “Then why don’t you put some clothes on?”

Realizing she wasn’t going to get out of this conversation, Bela said, “Right! Okay!” And then began scrambling for something to wear. The exertion made the two empty bullet holes pucker like hungry mouths and drool out even more blood that drizzled down her legs like snakes. She didn’t have time to clean herself up, so she just threw on the first gown she could reach in one of her drawers--a dark blue one she had sewn herself--wiped her hands off, kicked the tattered black dress under the bed, and smeared the blood on the floor until it couldn’t be seen against the hardwood. Then, she put on the most believable, while also innocent expression of normalcy and opened her door.

“My lady,” she said with a wide sweeping motion of her arm, trying to be funny, trying to hide the fact that she was in immense pain and simply being on her feet made her lightheaded, trying not to worry her mother.

Alcina didn’t laugh at her joke. She seemed rather suspicious as she ducked into the room--not that Bela really blamed her. She was definitely being very suspicious.

“What did you want to talk about?” Bela asked, looking up at her mother.

Alcina looked around her room, but Bela had been smart enough to clean the floors. Not well, but they were clean. When she found nothing, she studied Bela, and Bela held herself as she usually did--maybe a bit too formally.

“I just wanted to check on you all after the attack,” Alcina finally answered, meeting her eyes. “Are you alright?”

“Yes, Mother,” Bela said, and she hated lying to Alcina, but she didn’t have a choice. She hated being a burden even more and that was all she was going to be if Alcina found out about her wounds.

“Are you sure?” Alcina narrowed her eyes at her.

“Yes, Mother,” Bela repeated. Then, trying to change the subject, she asked, “How is Cassandra?”

“She’s okay,” Alcina answered. “She will heal. The cut wasn’t very deep.”

“And Daniela?”

“Feasting. I wouldn’t go near her if I were you. She may just maim you and add you to her meal.” A smile came to Alcina’s lips, and Bela let herself laugh.

Unfortunately, that laughter quickly turned to coughing as her body seized with pain. She tasted blood as the bullets seemed to rattle within her, flesh clenching down around lead. She wiped her mouth before pulling her hand away.

“I wouldn’t put it past her.”

Alcina didn’t respond for a moment. Her entire face was knitted with great concern, and Bela already felt bad for worrying her.

“Bela, are you sure you are alright?”

For a fourth time that day: “Yes, Mother.”

Alcina wasn’t going to let it go that easily, it seemed, because she questioned further: “Have you caught a chill?” She walked over and pressed a hand to Bela’s forehead. Bela couldn’t help but lean into it, always eager to be touched by her mother. “You shouldn’t be coughing like that.”

“I just had a tickle in my throat.”

“I don’t like being lied to, Bela.”

Bela’s resolve nearly broke beneath her mother’s stern gaze, but she kept her facade from falling through sheer willpower alone. She said, “I’m not.”

Alcina’s eyes narrowed. She pulled her hand back and went to say something when she appeared to slip on something. Steadying herself, she looked down at the ground, and Bela’s breath caught in her throat when she realized what exactly her mother had staggered on.

Alcina bent over and picked up the buckshot.

Bela didn’t let her panic show on her face as Alcina examined the tiny lead ball. Its siblings, still lodged deep in her stomach, seemed to giggle at the predicament she was ensnared in when a fresh bout of pain quivered through her nerves. She stayed calm as flashing yellow eyes slid back over to her.

“Bela,” Alcina said slowly, and Bela already didn’t like the tone she was using. “What is this?”

Bela considered playing dumb, but then she remembered that she was the smart, bookish one. She could use her multitude of knowledge as an excuse.

“That’s buckshot, Mother. It comes from a shotgun. Did you know that they have enough firepower to blow a head off? It’s because it has several bullets in one shot instead of a singular one, which means more power behind each blast.”

Alcina held a hand up and Bela instantly shut her mouth.

“Why do you have it?” Alcina asked.

“I was studying it,” Bela answered. It was believable enough. It did sound like something she would do, but Alcina didn’t seem very convinced.

“Your blood is on this, Bela,” Alcina said. “Why is your blood on this bullet?”

“I-- I--” Bela’s act was beginning to crumble.

Alcina turned to her completely, clenching the buckshot in her fist. “Were you shot?”

“Mother, I--”

“Were you shot?”

“Yes,” Bela blurted, unable to hide it anymore. “But-- but it isn’t that--”

“Show me.”

“Wh-what?”

“Bela Dimitrescu, show me where you are hurt. Now.”

Flinching at her mother’s severe tone, Bela removed her dress and revealed the mess on her stomach and chest. When she heard Alcina gasp, she quickly said, “It isn’t that bad. You don’t have to worry about me, Mother. I can take care of it.”

“You fool!” Alcina exploded, and Bela flinched away. “What were you thinking?! Why would you hide this from me?!”

“I-- I thought I could--” Bela was having a hard time collecting her words. If there was one thing she really hated, it was when people raised their voices, even if it wasn’t directed towards her. When Cassandra and Daniela would get into fights, she always left the room and got as far away as possible so she wouldn’t have to hear them yelling. But, as bad as their shouting was, it was nothing compared to their mother when she was worked up.

“I--”

“I asked you if you were alright!” Alcina roared on. “If you were okay! You said you were! And then I come in here and find you with bullets in your flesh?!” She shook her head, nearly dislodging her hat from her head. “What do you have to say for yourself, Bela?”

Personally? Bela really wished they weren’t having this conversation when she didn’t have a shirt on.

Dipping her head shamefully, the only thing that Bela could manage was a pathetic, “I’m sorry, Mother.”

“Why can’t you just let me help you for once?”

“I didn’t want to disappoint you,” Bela confessed. “Or worry you.”

Alcina sighed and rubbed her face slowly. “Bela, I am more worried and disappointed because you hid this from me.”

Bela could only squeak out a feeble, “Oh.”

Alcina knelt down in front of her and lifted her chin. “Honey, why would I be disappointed in you for coming to me for help?”

Bela couldn’t meet her mother’s eyes. “Because-- because I got hurt. And I shouldn’t have. I’m a shitty fighter and got shot and I should have been stronger.”

“Your strength has nothing to do with this,” Alcina said. “Cassandra got hurt too, you know.”

“Cassandra probably didn’t care.”

“I beg to differ. You should have seen her while I was rubbing honey into her wound. She was wiggling around like a little worm!”

Bela laughed slightly, then whimpered immediately after. Alcina glanced at her bullet-filled body, then cupped her cheeks.

“Do you know what I would have done if you had died from these wounds?”

Bela tried not to look at her.

“I would have done everything in my power to get you back to me. I would tear down the sun and moon for you, my darling.” There was so much love in Alcina’s words, so much tenderness and care. Bela was drawn to it. “Please tell me you will come to me next time something happens. I cannot fathom the thought of you being in any more pain.”

Whether or not she actually would when the time came, Bela nodded. Alcina smiled at her warmly and placed a kiss against her forehead.

“That’s my good girl,” she said. “Now…” Her eyes slid down to the bullet wounds. “To handle this.”

“I tried to get them out myself,” Bela said. “I promise I tried. I got two out, but then-- but I couldn’t--”

“Shh,” Alcina stroked her hair. “You tried. That’s all that matters. But I am so proud of you, darling. It must not have been easy.”

Bela shook her head with a whimper.

“Alright,” Alcina stood up straight. “Come on. Lay on your bed. We need to get those little devils out of you.”

Bela didn’t disobey. She had already disobeyed enough for one day. She crawled onto her bed, whimpering each time her body bent in a way the bullets disagreed with. They felt like festering parasites inside her stomach. She was lightheaded.

“Mama,” she moaned. She was the last to stop calling Alcina such a thing. Cassandra was first, then Daniela, and when they both heard her still referring to their mother in that way, they teased her. While it had been done playfully, it was still enough to embarrass Bela and get her to stop to avoid risking further humiliation. But now she didn’t even care. She was far too uncomfortable to care about anything her sisters had to say.

“Mama…”

Alcina caressed the side of her face. “I’m right here, baby. Lay back for me.

Bela, as loyal as a hound, did as she was told. Her head rested against one of her fluffy pillows, but it did little to stop the room from spinning like a top. She looked over at Alcina anxiously, but her mother had an expression of focus and calm.

“Alright, my dove,” Alcina said, cupping one of her clammy, pallid cheeks. “I need you to lay as still as possible for me. Do you think you can do that?”

Bela nodded feebly.

“Very good. I’m going to start now, alright? Just stay still and breathe. I’ll work as quickly as I can.”

Another nod.

“Here I go.”

Even with the warning, Bela’s body still jolted when she felt the sharp stab of her mother’s claws against one of the bullet holes. Her eyes snapped open, but she was blind for several seconds before details bled back into awareness. To her own credit, she managed to keep from crying out, but only because she clenched her jaw so hard she chipped one of her fangs. Cassandra and Danieal were definitely going to tease her over that later, but it was the least of her problems at the moment.

The third bullet slid out with relative ease, lubricated by her blood, and, Mother Miranda, she was only just realizing she had fifteen more to go.

“One down,” Alcina said, flicking the buckshot to the floor. She lifted Bela’s chin to examine her broken tooth. “Hmm. It’ll grow back, don’t worry. It didn’t chip that much.”

“I was using a gown,” Bela said, her words coming out wheezy and weak. “To bite down on.” She pointed to the dress left on the rocking chair. “Can I use it again?”

Alcina followed her hand, spotting the bundle of fabric. “Oh, clever girl!” she praised, rubbing Bela’s head. She picked up the gown and gave it to Bela. “As I said before: you are my bright little daughter.”

Bela smiled shyly before biting down on the gown. She gave her mother an affirmative look to begin again.

The next three bullets went out smoothly--or as smoothly as little masses of lead wedged in sensitive tissue and muscle could be. But then Alcina got to one of the deeper slugs and it didn’t come out when tugged on, causing Bela to cry out and jerk away.

“Breathe, darling,” Alcina said, settling her back on her back when she tried to roll over. “Breathe. It’s alright. This one is a little deeper. A lot of them are going to be, but I need you to stay still and stay calm for me. Can you do that?”

“I-- I don’t know,” Bela said honestly.

Alcina frowned. She stroked her face, wiping away tears. “I know you can. You’re strong, Bela, regardless of what you think. And just know that I am so proud of you.”

Bela reached up to grab her mother’s hand. She pressed into the warm palm like a kitten seeking heat in the middle of a winter storm. Finally, she relented, “Okay.”

“Thank you, darling,” Alcina crooned. She went to return to her work, but Bela didn’t release her hand. “I need you to let me go, Bela.”

Bela was unwilling to part with the warmth, so Alcina did it herself, easily peeling her fingers away. She touched her cheek tenderly for a moment before saying, “Bite down and breathe, baby. I’m starting again.”

Bela did as she was told, grinding her teeth into the gown as claws returned to her sore stomach. She flinched, but didn’t try to squirm away again, grounding herself by grasping handfuls of the sheets beneath her.

Seven, eight, nine, ten… Alcina worked diligently, expertly removing the buckshot from Bela’s body. When she got to the eleventh one and it proved to be rather reluctant to leave its host, she stopped for a moment to give Bela time to breathe and prepare herself.

“You’re doing so good,” Alcina cooed, stroking Bela’s hair, which was wet with cold sweat. Bela had started to tremble at some point, though she didn’t exactly know when, but she hoped it wasn’t making the bullet removal harder than it already was.

“Mama,” Bela mewled. “It hurts…”

“I know,” Alcina hushed her. “I know. I’m almost done. Just eight more to go.”

“Hurry-- hurry--” Bela panted.

“Are you sure? You can wait a moment longer to catch your breath.”

Bela shook her head. “Please.”

Alcina pursed her lips, then nodded. “Alright. Here I go.”

Bela braced herself.

“Eleven…”

Bela breathed.

“Twelve…”

Bela bit down.

“Thirteen…”

Bela--

Bela screamed.

Bela screamed because the fourteenth bullet was buried deep within her flesh, burrowed in her warmth like a maggot in a corpse. She kicked out her legs and tried to yell for Alcina to stop, but blood mixed with bile lurched up the back of her throat and her mouth was clogged with fluids. Alcina ripped out the pellet with enough force to slit the edges of the hole with her claws, threw it to the floor, and then lifted Bela’s head so she wouldn’t inhale her own blood and choke. Bela coughed, staining her chest in a fresh layer of red.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry--”

“Shh,” Alcina stroked her thumb with her cheek. “Nothing to apologize for, darling. You’re doing very well. We’re so close to finishing.”

Bela looked at her, breathing heavily, her throat thick with blood. She didn’t know what to say, so she just nodded weakly. Alcina set her head back down on the pillow.

“Here we go, my sweet. Just a little longer.”

But Bela wasn’t able to handle it when the fifteenth was removed. She grabbed her mother by the wrist when she reached for the sixteenth one, clinging tightly.

“No more, no more--” Bela begged.

Alcina frowned. “I have to get them out, baby. You’re so close.”

Bela shook her head. “No, no-- can’t we-- can’t we just leave them in?”

“Bela. You’re smarter than that. You know we can’t.”

“But-- but it hurts,” Bela wept. “I can’t-- I can’t take it anymore. Please, Mama. Please just stop .”

Above her, Alcina looked incredibly worried. She ran her bloody claws through Bela’s hair, soothing her.

“I have to,” Alcina said. “I’ll be quick, I promise.”

Bela sobbed, but didn’t stop her.

With a cruel yank, the sixteenth bullet dislodged with a spit of blood. Bela shredded the sheets beneath her.

The seventeenth took some digging, with her mother stretching the tender edges of the hole with one hand, picking out flesh with the other. She nearly threw up at the disgusting squelching sounds that filled the air, but managed to save herself from the humiliation by swallowing hard.

The eighteenth, the one she had accidentally pushed in deeper, was the worst. It was like having a hot knife thrust into her soft stomach over and over again. She shivered with pain and blood loss as she felt the bullet being tugged on in her ragged flesh. It was a sickening friction of skin sucking against the force of her mother’s claws. She didn’t even know if it came out fully because her eyes rolled to the back of her head and everything went black.

——— ——— ———

Wiping her claws of blood, Alcina frowned down at her eldest daughter. Bela was unconscious. It seemed the pain was finally too much for her little body. Though, she made it all the way to the end. Alcina was expecting her to pass out a lot sooner.

And she said she wasn’t strong.

Scooping her up into her arms, Alcina carried Bela to her bedroom, telling a maid to clean up the bloody mess left behind. Once inside her chambers, she ran Bela a hot bath, washing her of all the blood that stained her body. The warm water seemed to rouse her daughter because shiny amber eyes peeked out from under heavy eyelids as she was cleaning out her hair.

“Mama,” Bela breathed out.

Alcina smiled at her lovingly. “Hello, my sweet.”

Bela looked around sluggishly. She seemed dazed. “I’m… huh?”

“You passed out,” Alcina informed her.

“The buckshot…?”

“All out,” Alcina reached out to caress her cheek. “It’s over. You did it. I’m so proud of you, baby girl.”

Bela, always wanting affection, pressed into her hand. “Finally…”

Alcina chuckled. “I’m just going to finish washing all this blood off and then you can lay back down. You need lots of rest to heal.”

“Can you…?”

Alcina smiled again. Her heart swelled with adoration and love towards her daughter.

“Yes, I will lay with you.”

Bela had definitely earned it.

#resident evil 8 #resident evil village #lady dimitrescu #alcina dimitrescu #bela dimitrescu #cassandra dimitrescu #daniela dimitrescu #dimitrescu family #resident evil fanfic #self-help #tw: blood #tw: wounds

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satoruvt · 3 years

Text

know i’ll keep it forever

pairing → kim mingyu x reader

word count → 770

genre → fluff. just complete fluff ↳ tags: established relationship, Self Indulgent (tm), mingyu is annoying and my favorite person, cold medicine </3, mingyu being a housewife really, mentions of soup., mc is sick and mingyu is Done, crying i wish this was me rn, a single kiss, cute teasing and banter i think, anniversary shenanigans sick ver

song inspo → emerald by rini <3

warnings → none i think!!!

a/n → guys. this is actually the most self indulgent work ive ever written because its my 1 year with svt and im SICK. anyways i figured i cant do a fic for every member LOL so i decided to do mingyu because he was my very first bias in svt!!!! 1 year is a long time for me hehe so i hope this feels as special to you as it does to me... thank you for reading on such a special day <3

It takes more effort than you thought it would to swallow down the medicine (cherry flavored cold medicine because it was all the store had in stock), and you let out a weak cough when you finish, shivering at what little you could taste of it. Mingyu sighs, taking the the little plastic cup from your hand.

“Stop being dramatic,” he tells you, and you gawk at him like he’s insane.

“Dramatic?” You repeat, motioning to your sick self covered in blankets and surrounded by tissues. “I’m dying!”

Mingyu rolls his eyes but both of you are smiling. In all honesty, this isn’t the worst cold you’ve ever had - more annoying than anything else. You take a generous sip of the water Mingyu’s offered you, hoping it’ll wash away the lingering taste of alcohol and fake cherry. “I can’t believe you got sick on our anniversary,” he says as you swallow. It’s not teasing like before, more like disappointed awe. Neither of you expected your own health to get in the way of things.

You place the glass back on the bedside table, your hand moving to rest on the side of Mingyu’s face. He leans into it. “I’m sorry,” you tell him, feeling guilty. “I know you had a lot planned.”

He shakes his head, hand resting on top of yours. “It’s not your fault. Maybe we needed a night in, anyways. A sign from the gods.”

You giggle but it dissolves into a few coughs, and Mingyu looks at you with puppy dog eyes that make you want to get better immediately. But even at your most resilient, it takes a few days to get back to full health, and you know you’ll be bedridden for a while.

“You’re gonna catch whatever I have if you stay here any longer,” you tell him, moving your hand away from him. Your fever gives you cold chills and all you want is to cuddle up next to him (he’s basically a human heater anyways) but you hold yourself back, not wanting him to share your pain. “You should stay at the dorms tonight.”

“What happened to dying?”

“I’ll die alone if it means you’re safe.”

Mingyu pushes your shoulder with so little force you barely move at all, but you groan out loud like you were punched with all of his weight behind it. “I’m sick and dying,” you wail, writing under your blankets, “and this is what you do to me.”

“Sorry, baby,” Mingyu says, adjusting himself so he stops your wriggling. “Want me to kiss it better?”

You already know where he’s going with this. “Kim Mingyu,” you warn, watching his face come closer. “You will not.”

“Who’s gonna stop me?” He asks, grinning ear to ear. He only gets closer, blankets ruffling under the shift of his weight towards you. “You’re too weak.”

“If you get sick, I’m gonna have to take care of you,” you tell him like it’s a threat. You don’t try to stop him, still. “You’re more dramatic than me, and I’m gonna have to baby you for a week.”

Mingyu shrugs, not bothering to hide his amusement. “I’ll look forward to it.”

And then he kisses you square on the lips, kind and sweet just as usual. He’s warm and your sick brain convinces you that he’s already crossed the line, there’s no use in holding back now, so you melt into him and kiss him back, hoping the medicine taste still doesn’t linger on your lips.

It’s a quick kiss, ending soon after it starts. You flick Mingyu on the forehead and he immediately recoils, whining. “You are unbelievable.”

“Think of it as an anniversary present,” he says, cheeky. You wouldn’t be able to hide the grin on your face even if you wanted to. “It goes along well with the soup I’m about to cook for you.”

“Really,” you hum, watching him clean up a few cough drop wrappers and rogue tissues. You’ve always been aware of it, but you really are lucky.

(Sometimes you think it’s not luck, but fate.)

“Hey,” you call right before Mingyu leaves the bedroom. He turns around to look at you, cute and confused pout on his lips. “You know I love you, right?”

You swear he shines brighter than the sun whenever you tell him. “I know,” he affirms, like he still can’t believe it (like he’s the one who needs to be in disbelief). “I love you too.”

Sleep catches you in a haze of what you can smell of Mingyu’s cologne mixed with the sound of him already starting to sniffle.

#caratwritersclub #kdiner #kpopscape #ficscafe #sick on my very own svt day that is so wrong </3 #seventeen x reader #seventeen imagine #svt x reader #svt imagine #seventeen mingyu x reader #seventeen mingyu imagine #svt mingyu x reader #svt mingyu imagine #kim mingyu x reader #kim mingyu imagine #kpop x reader #kpop imagine #x reader #reader insert

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onlyfreds · 3 years

Text

He's a Simp | F.W.

Title: He's a Simp

Requested: Yes/No

Summary: Fred is a simp when it comes to Hogwart's most popular girl: Y/N L/N

A/N: This is absolutely the first time that I wrote the whole fic through Fred's POV.

(Fred’s POV)

“Finally!” George said as he hopped off the couch, stretching a bit, “What took you forever? I’m starving.”

I rolled my eyes at him, flipping him off, “Don’t be overdramatic. I only took five minutes.”

George scoffed, “Whatever, let’s go. I’m hungry.”

The two of us then headed down to the Great Hall then we sat down next to Ginny.

“What took you two so long?” She asked as she took a bite out of her toast.

“Oh nothing.” George said, filling his cup with pumpkin juice, “Fred just wanted to make sure that he looked good for his favorite girl.”

I felt my cheeks heat, “I did not!”

“Yes, you did!”

“I did not!”

“Yes, you did!”

“I did not!”

“Can we at least eat breakfast first before you two argue?” Ron said impatiently, cutting off the argument.

“Who’s Fred’s favorite girl anyway?” Harry asked.

Hermione looked at him, “You seriously don’t know?”

Harry shook his head.

“His favorite girl is none other than Y/N L/N.” George said, teasingly nudging my shoulder.

Harry still looked confused, “Who?”

“Miss Popular!” Ron said through a mouthful of food.

“She’s the most intelligent.” Hermione said.

“The kindest, the sweetest, the prettiest, the hottest, the sexiest and the most amazing person in school.” I said, smiling dreamily.

“Aaw.” Ginny cooed, “Look at that, Freddie’s in love.”

George chuckled, “In love? He’s whipped for her. He’s basically a simp!”

“And, here she comes now.” Hermione said with a small smile.

As if on cue, Y/N came in with Angelina and Alicia.

At that moment, the world seemed to fall into slow motion, the way her eyes seemed to almost disappear behind her smile. Her laugh was a tune that came straight from heaven.

I wondered what it would be like if I made her laugh, if I was the cause of her laughter.

I wondered, as I always did, what it would be like to hold her, hug her, kiss her, love her so freely and openly to show the whole world how lucky I am to have her in my life. To call her mine.

I felt Ginny gently tap my chin, “Fred, you’re obviously gaping at her and you’re literally drooling.”

I could feel the blush rising up to my cheeks as I wiped the spit off my chin.

“Seriously Freddie.” Ginny said, smacking Ron’s hand away as he tried to reach for her toast, “Why don’t you ask her out? She’s really nice.”

George snorted, almost spewing his pumpkin juice on Harry, “Ginny, before Fred could utter a single syllable in front of Y/N he would’ve already melted just by looking at her.”

“Yeah.” Hermione said with a small giggle, “Fred would do absolutely anything Y/N would tell him.”

Harry laughed, “That’s how much he’s whipped for her.”

“Mate, he’s practically wrapped around her finger.” Ron said.

Harry leaned forward, “You better get a move on mate. Before someone else beats you to it.”

George and I were walking back from the library, having finished researching for one of my products when I heard someone calling me.

“Hey Fred! Wait up!”

I turned and my heart skipped a beat when I saw that Y/N was the source of the voice.

“H-hi, what’s u-up?” I asked, praying that the blush could only be mistaken for the heat.

She gave a small smile, handing me a book, “Here, you left this in the library.”

I took the book from her, “T-thanks.”

She nodded, “I’ll see you around.” Then she headed back inside the library.

George nudged my shoulder teasingly, “Aaw, somebody’s a simp.”

I flipped him off, “Who wouldn’t be? Just look at her.”

He tried to reach for the book Y/N handed me, but I swatted his hand away, holding the book close to my chest.

George scoffed, “You really are obsessed.”

News about the Yule Ball traveled around Hogwarts spread like wildfire. Now guys were asking their dream girls left and right.

Ron was planning on asking Hermione, Harry was too late for Ginny and George had already asked Angelina.

My only problem: How was I supposed to ask Y/N L/N?

I was walking back from the owlery when I overheard a conversation from a bunch of guys I didn’t know.

“Mate, do you already have a date for the ball?”

“No, I was actually planning on asking Y/N.”

“You’d be one lucky guy to date her.”

“She’s literally the girl of my dreams.”

“Come on, whoever gets to marry her. I would be so jealous of.”

My hands immediately clenched to fists at my side as I walked away from the group.

My thoughts were so clouded that I accidentally bumped into someone.

“Oh, sorry.” We both said at the same time.

I looked up and my eyes met the y/e/c ones of Y/N.

“Sorry.” I apologized sheepishly, “I wasn’t looking where I was going.”

She gave a reassuring smile, “It’s fine. I was just heading to the owlery.”

I nodded, “Yeah, I had just gone there.”

Y/N was already halfway up the stairs when an impulsive and possibly rash decision made me call after her, “Hey Y/N!”

She turned around, “Yeah?”

“Will you go to the ball with me?” I asked, immediately regretting my decision and started to brace myself for rejection.

But she just smiled, “I would love to.”

My eyes widened, thinking I’ve misheard her, “Come again?”

She giggled, the sound similar to angels singing, “I said that I would love to go to the ball with you.”

I grinned, “Thanks. I’ll pick you up at eight?”

She nodded, her beaming smile never seemed to leave her lips, “Sounds brilliant.”

I walked back to the common room with a spring in my step, not believing my luck that out of all the people in this school, I was Y/N’s date to the ball.

“Someone’s in a good mood today.” George said.

I grinned, “How couldn’t I be Georgie? The sun’s shining. It’s a beautiful day.”

“Come on.” Ginny said, suddenly interested in the conversation, “We know there’s something going on. So just spill it.”

I smiled, leaning back on the couch, “I asked Y/N to the ball.”

“And?” Ginny and George said in unison.

“She said yes.”

“Yes!” Both of them said, doing a little celebration dance along with the chant, “She said yes! She said yes! She said yes!”

It was honestly the best day of my life.

Christmas couldn’t come any faster.

Next thing I knew, I was already standing at the end of the staircase by the Great Hall.

I fiddled nervously with the end of the jacket the dress robes came with, hoping that Y/N didn’t back out last minute.

I then heard soft footsteps growing louder and louder with each passing moment.

“She’s beautiful.” I heard Angelina say next to causing me to turn around.

My jaw literally dropped when I saw her. She looked like a goddess dressed in a y/f/c gown that fell a bit past her knees with her hair tied up in a half-up half-down look. Giving a shy smile when she saw me staring at her.

“You look absolutely gorgeous.” I said, when she arrived at the bottom of the stairs.

Her cheeks were suddenly painted with a tint of rose pink, “You look quite dashing as well.”

I offered my arm to her, “Ready to party?”

She giggled, taking it, “Absolutely.”

Everyone was looking at us when we entered, I saw George give me a thumbs-up from afar.

We were taking a small break after dancing the night away. Having a drink in a secluded part of the hall.

“What are you doing on the arm of a Weasley, L/N?” An, obviously, drunk Adrian Pucey calls out.

Y/N’s brows furrowed as she answered, “Why? What do you care?”

Pucey gave a drunken laugh, “Shouldn’t you be on the arm of someone better? Like me?”

I was ready to go and teach the guy a lesson on manners when Y/N placed a hand on my arm, “Are you trying to make me laugh Adrian? Whoever told you that you were better than Fred Weasley is talking dragon dung. And I would rather skip the ball than not be on Fred’s arm. So, if you excuse us, we have to go.” She said, dragging me back into the Great Hall.

“I’m so sorry about that.” She apologized, “Pucey could be such a prick at times.”

I paid no attention to her apology, “Do you really mean it?”

She gave me a confused look, “Mean what?”

“What you said. That you would rather skip the ball than be someone else’s date?”

She blushed, “Yeah.”

I couldn’t believe what I heard; has she been waiting for me to ask her this whole time?

“I’ve actually fancied for such a long time.” She admitted, fiddling with a stray strand of her hair.

Have I actually died and this is already heaven?

Y/N was stunned at her sudden confession and started to ramble, “Oh Godric, I’m sorry. I just made things so awkward. It’s okay if you don’t feel the same. I mean, of course you won’t feel the same. Why would you? I could be so annoying at times and I’m not even that pretty. Besides, I’m sure there are other girls that are way in your league-“

She wouldn’t let me speak, so I did the only thing I knew to shut her up: I crashed my lips onto hers.

I rested my hands on her waist as she rested hers on my shoulder.

Once our lungs started to demand for air we pulled away.

“Will you let me talk now?” I asked.

Y/N looked up at me, cheeks painted red, “Yeah. Sure.”

“I love you too.” I confessed, “You did not make things awkward, you made it feel like I was in heaven. You are the prettiest, the hottest, the sexiest girl I have ever laid eyes on. My whole family teases me for being such a simp for you. I am so whipped that I would gladly do anything you ask me to do. So, now all those have been sorted out, will you give me the honor of being your boyfriend?”

She giggled, pressing our lips together in a brief kiss, “That’s the best thing I would ever be: Fred Weasley’s girlfriend.”

There was no denying that Fred Weasley is a simp for Y/N L/N.

𝚃𝚊𝚐𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝:

@lumosandnoxwriting @gostupid-godumb @famdomhideout @nova-darling @gaycatlord-stuff @pandaxnienke @escapingrealitybyreading @catching-the-train-to-hogwarts @lunylovelovegood @thefallengodesse(Send a Message/Ask or fill out my taglist form if you want to be added!)

#fredweasley #fredweasleyfanfic #fredweasleyimagines #fred weasley angst #fred weasley fluff #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley fanfiction #fred weasley x y/n #fredweasleyoneshots #fred weasley x you #fred weasley fic #fred weasley smut #fred weasley blurb

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robininthelabyrinth · 3 years

Note

Same universe as the one where LXC kills JGY on a boat to not-Japan. JRS-centric as he grows up in the Nie clan and deals with his reputation as an inbred son of a traitorous bastard.

so I don't think I've ever written a fic in which LXC kills JGY on a boat, and definitely not one where JRS is a character? I mean, I've written a lot of fics, so possibly I did and I forgot, but I'm pretty sure about this one.

That being said, I don't think I've gotten any Jin Rusong prompts before so I'm reinterpreting this to be a prompt for a fic about JRS growing up in the Nie clan. Fic below!

ao3

Nothing ventured, nothing gained, Nie Huaisang reminded himself. Risk is proportionate with reward. Your spine should be made of steel, just as your saber is.

He licked his lips, thought of his brother who had loved him, and threw himself forward with tears in his eyes.

“Oh, gongzi!” he blubbered. “Can you help me? I’ve gotten completelylost, I don’t even know where to begin –”

Xue Yang blinked at him, the lids of his eyes moving slowly like a reptile.

“Maybe you know where my san-ge is? Lianfeng-zun?”

The feeling of immediate threat lessened. It seemed he’d gambled right, and the rabid dog that was Xue Yang could still be controlled by reference to Jin Guangyao.

“I’d really appreciate it if you could just give me some guidance on where to find him,” Nie Huaisang said, lowering his voice confidentially. “I’d be sure to pay you back! If there’s anything you want –”

“Do you have any snacks?” Xue Yang asked.

Nie Huaisang, who had come prepared based on the rumors he’d painstakingly collected, produced some dragons’ beard candy.

“Not bad,” Xue Yang said. “Okay, sure.”

Nie Huaisang smiled, and even meant it.

“Hey, good-for-nothing,” Xue Yang said, and Nie Huaisang turned to look at his least favorite but nevertheless highly useful source of information in Lanling Jin. The fact that Xue Yang had no idea that he was functioning as such just made it more satisfactory. “You like kids, right?”

Nie Huaisang blinked. “Yes?” he hazarded, not so much because he actually did – he’d never had strong feelings about children one way or the other, though perhaps he was being presumptuous in thinking that the reference did not involve goats – but because that seemed to be the answer Xue Yang was looking for.

Xue Yang wrinkled his nose in distaste, though not, Nie Huaisang thought, at him.

“Theoretically,” he said, and he wouldn’t know ‘theoretical’ if it hit him in the face, “if there were, I don’t know, a whole bunch of them hanging around somewhere without parents, you’d be able to do something about that, right? Especially if they had a talent for cultivation?”

It took only a moment to piece together what must have happened to lead to such a question, given the ruthlessness of the cultivation world and of Jin Guangyao in particular, and Nie Huaisang marveled briefly at the idea that Xue Yang might draw a moral line in the sand over something. Presumably he felt some kinship to the children, being similarly utterly infantile, amoral, and fond of sweet things.

“Oh sure!” he said, playing up the brainless idiot who didn’t know to ask questions. “My sect is always recruiting, you know. We took some losses in the war and, well, I feel like adult cultivators aren’t really all that interestedin joining ever since I took over…”

“Because you’re a waste of space,” Xue Yang said, and Nie Huaisang pouted at him. “Whatever, the important thing is that you have space for kids. Orphans. Think, like, a whole orphanage getting shut down or whatever – anyway, not important. You’d take them back to Qinghe, right?”

“Oh, that would be so wonderful!” Nie Huaisang clapped. “That would suit everyone, wouldn’t it? They don’t have to worry about the children, and we get new disciples. I should tell san-ge – no, on second thought, he might be too busy –”

“Definitely too busy,” Xue Yang said quickly. “Wouldn’t it be nice to accomplish something yourself? You could casually show him that your numbers went up at the end of the month instead so he gives you the credit, without explaining that it’s kids making up the increase.”

“That’s a great idea! He’ll be much more impressed by that, I should definitely do that. Where is the orphanage?”

“…uh, in the forest. The back forest.”

You couldn’t come up with a better lie?

“You already brought them here?” Nie Huaisang asked, batting his eyelashes. “You’re so nice, Xue-xiong! I’ll go tell my second in command to go deal with it right away!”

It was in the fifth round of kids getting picked up – small cultivation clans being massacred and there was nothing Nie Huaisang could do about it, because there was either no evidence or else Jin Guangyao had come up with some motive to justify his actions and, inevitably, Lan Xichen would be there behind him, soothing over tempers and providing explanations because he believed him, every time – that something unusual happened.

“Sect Leader Nie,” one of his most trusted subordinates murmured into his ear. “There’s a problem.”

Nie Huaisang found a reason to leave the party early, a reason to go to the rendezvous point, and, once there, found the reason for the problem.

“Oh, hey there,” he said with a smile fixed onto his face by sheer force of willpower, crouching down to make himself seem less intimidating. Not that he was ever particularly intimidating, though given the rage coursing through his veins right now, he thought he might be able to pull it off if he tried. “What a lucky chance! It’s so funny, finding you here, Songsong. How are you?”

Jin Rusong wiped his eyes and looked tearily at him, recognized that the person asking was his Little Uncle Nie, and threw himself into Nie Huaisang’s arms with a howl.

This was pretty typical – Jin Rusong wasn’t much of a crier, but when he did he definitely took Nie Huaisang as his model, something all the other adults in the cultivation world had a tendency to give Nie Huaisang dirty looks over.

The only problem here, of course, was that Jin Rusong was dead.

Or, rather…he was supposed to be dead.

And if Jin Rusong was here – here, in the rendezvous point where Xue Yang put those of his prospective victims that happened to be a little too young for even him to stomach killing, at least without the personal grudge that had driven him to slaughter the Chang clan in its entirety – that meant only one thing.

Jin Guangyao had ordered his own son to be murdered.

Through demonic cultivation, no less, which was a pretty nasty way to go. There was a reason everyone implicitly countenanced Jiang Cheng’s vendetta against demonic cultivators no matter where they were, even when he ignored all territory lines and forgot to not ask for permission – the things a demonic cultivator gone bad could do were just so much worse than what anyone else could that they couldn’t risk any delay in dealing with the problem.

Well, shit, Nie Huaisang thought, even as he comforted Jin Rusong, petting the toddler’s back to try to get him to calm down. What do I do now?

“There has to be a reason,” Nie Huaisang insisted. “He’s not rabid. Songsong was his son!”

“Sect Leader Nie, we can’t find anything that might explain it.”

“Look harder. I don’t care how minor it is, I want to know everythingto do with Songsong. Every little detail – every person who saw him – every medical report, every compliment, every good grade –”

“He placed last in one of his classes,” one of his spies volunteered.

“What?”

“He placed last in one of his classes. About two months before his ‘assassination’, and shortly before his father started collecting evidence against the other sects that were in his way, which he later used to ‘prove’ that they had been involved in the alleged murder.”

“He wouldn’t kill his son for failing a class,” one of the others objected. “The kid’s barely more than a baby. What’s he expecting, genius from birth?”

“He’s a genius himself. Why not?”

“If everyone inherited everything directly from their parents, he’d be a whore.”

“He’d be a Jin. They’ve all got that nose, every one of them…”

“I heard he’s having the other Jin bastards killed. All of them, even the women…”

Something snapped in Nie Huaisang’s hands.

They all turned to look at him.

“Investigate Qin Su,” he said, looking down at the mess of wood and paper that had once been a fan. “Come to think of it, she has a Jin nose, too.”

“I don’t want to go!”

“I don’t want you to go, either,” Nie Huaisang said, feeling tired and also much more in sympathy with his poor older brother than he’d ever been while Nie Mingjue had been alive. “But you disobeyed me, and that means we don’t have a choice. You have to go.”

Nie Songsong looked down at the ground, his lip quivering. “I didn’t mean to…”

“You did,” Nie Huaisang said. “You have to own your decisions, Songsong. You can’t take them back once they’re done, no matter what the consequences. Not even if you feel bad, but definitely not because you feel bad for having to pay for what you did.”

“But…”

“No, Songsong. You cannot be in the Unclean Realm when – when he’s here.”

Nie Songsong hung his head.

“He’s not your father anymore,” Nie Huaisang said. “You know that, right?”

Nie Songsong nodded.

Nie Huaisang sighed and held out his hands, and his arms were full of a teary-eyed child a moment later.

“He loved you once,” Nie Huaisang murmured into his child’s hair. “I love you now. I wish I could give you more than that – I wish I could give you an answer, tell you why he didn’t love you enough to keep from doing what he did. But I can’t. All I can do…”

Is what I’m already doing.

“You’re enough, er-ge,” Nie Songsong whispered back. “You’re enough. I promise.”

“When will I get to go night-hunting?”

“You go night-hunting all the time,” Nie Huaisang grumbled. “You’re a fraction my age, and already my height, my weight, yet you wield a saber like my brother was around to raise you properly. You’re ruining my reputation, you know; now no one will believe that my incompetence comes from how short I am…”

“Not night-hunting with the rest of the sect, er-ge,” Nie Songsong said, rolling his eyes. “With other juniors!”

“Not long now,” Nie Huaisang said, looking down at the paper beneath his hands. It was all finally coming together. “Not long now. Just give er-ge a little more time to finish taking care of matters for da-ge, and you’ll be able to go night-hunting with anyone you like.”

“Er-ge! Are you all right? You look so pale…”

“I’m sorry,” Nie Huaisang whispered. “Songsong – I’m sorry. I’m so sorry –”

“What happened? Are you injured?” Nie Songsong demanded, already starting to pat him over, looking for wounds. “Er-ge, what’s wrong –”

“Your mother’s dead.”

Nie Songsong’s hands stilled.

“I told her about your heritage,” Nie Huaisang said, his lips numb. He’d never tried to hide it from Nie Songsong, although he’d introduced the subject very gradually and only once he thought that he’d be able to handle the revelation. “About your father – your grandfather. What they did. I wanted her to be angry at him, to turn against him, to distract him…instead, she killed herself.”

“Er-ge…”

“I shouldn’t have told her. If I knew –”

“Er-ge.”

“I should have brought her in earlier – told her about you surviving – I kept her from you for years –”

“Er-ge!”

Nie Huaisang looked at the child he had raised as a little brother the way his older brother had raised him, a father in everything but name, and who he had the constant feeling of having failed.

He wondered, as he always did, whether his brother had felt the same about him.

“Er-ge, it’s all right,” his little brother, his adopted son, said, and took his hands in his. “It’s all right. You tried, remember? Time after time, you tried to talk to her, but every single time you concluded that she would’ve told her husband instead of trusting you. She would’ve ruined everything. If she did that, I’d be dead all over again, and you with me.”

That had been what Nie Huaisang had concluded. That was why he’d never told her.

But…

“She’s your mother.”

“And you’re my er-ge. As long as you don’t die on me, too, it’ll be all right. Okay? It’ll be all right. It’ll be worth it in the end.”

Nie Huaisang shook his head. He’d already done so much, caused so much chaos and strife, and yet this moment – this was the step too far.

This was the first time he realized that he wasn’t sure he believed that it would be worth it anymore.

But by now…what else was left to do? There were no ways out of the plan he’d made himself; he’d designed it that way on purpose, because he’d known that if there was a way out, that snake would find a way to slither through it. He just hadn’t thought that he would be the one looking for it.

It didn’t matter.

He had to keep going.

His older brother deserved it, even if the younger one didn’t.

“I represent the Nie sect,” the young man – just about their age, though shorter than either of them – said with a smile. He seemed kind, gentle and polite, easy-going, but Lan Jingyi and Lan Sizhui looked at each other, and then at Jin Ling, who just scowled. “Can I come in?”

“Were you even invited?” Jin Ling asked in bitten off words. He was still bitter about some of the things that had happened in the Guayin Temple a month before, and of all them the one he was most bitter about was his second uncle’s retreat into seclusion – they were all upset about that.

“But it’s a discussion conference,” the young man said, blinking in confusion. “We’re a Great Sect. Why wouldn’t we be invited?”

In the face of such profound ignorance, there really wasn’t very much they could say, and eventually Lan Sizhui stepped forward with a smile, welcoming the young man – Nie Songsong, he introduced himself – into the Cloud Recesses.

Everything seemed fine for a little while. Lan Sizhui was able to talk to the people in charge of arranging juniors into finding another place for Nie Songsong to stay, although it would be a little delayed – Nie Songsong assured them that there was no issue – and as recompense they even showed him, at his request, a few of the main landmarks.

And then they turned around and their guest had disappeared.

“I knew he was up to no good!” Jin Ling exclaimed.

“Don’t jump to conclusions,” Lan Sizhui told him.

“I’m with Jin Ling,” Lan Jingyi said. “He seemed so nice and understated – just like you know –”

“Don’t talk about my little uncle,” Jin Ling hissed at him. “I know it’s true, but just – don’t, okay?”

“We should find where he went,” Lan Sizhui decided.

It took them a while, but in the end they found him in the most unexpected place: in the rooms their sect leader had chosen for his seclusion, sitting on the bed with Lan Xichen’s head on his shoulder, sobbing as if his heart had been broken.

“What are you doing?” Lan Sizhui exclaimed, unnerved even out of his own habitual politeness.

“I came to greet my uncle,” Nie Songsong said, his manner just as gentle and polite as it had been from the beginning, although it was now evident that he was as stubborn as a rock and not easy-going at all.

“Your uncle?” Lan Jingyi gaped. “How can he be your uncle?”

“You’re Sect Leader Nie’s son!” Jin Ling accused.

“I’m Sect Leader Nie’s little brother by adoption,” Nie Songsong corrected. “It’s through my father that he’s my uncle – and you my cousin, I suppose.”

“Your – father?”

“Oh, yes. My birth name, you see,” Nie Songsong said, “was Jin Rusong.”

“Why did you choose to reveal yourself?” Lan Sizhui asked. “Given that everyone knows – well –”

Nie Songsong finished the character he was writing and put down his brush. “Wondering if you should let it be known that you were born with the surname Wen?”

Lan Sizhui jerked in surprise, then flushed. “How did you – that didn’t come out in Guanyin Temple.”

“No, I knew it before,” Nie Songsong said. “My er-ge is very clever, you know.”

“Yes, I suppose I do...why do you call him brother? Shouldn’t he be uncle, or – or –”

“Uncle is probably right,” Nie Songsong said. “But he raised me like a son, just as his brother did for him.”

Lan Sizhui looked down at his hands.

“Why did he publicly reveal your background, knowing that you were still around?” he asked again. “Everyone will know. Who your father was, all those terrible things he did, his relationship with your mother –”

“Why shouldn’t he? He did do all those things, and he did have that relationship with my mother.”

“But what about you? What about your reputation –”

“Are you planning on sweeping Wen Ruohan’s grave?”

Lan Sizhui stared at him.

“He’s your grandfather, isn’t he?” Nie Songsong looked calmly back at him. “Who he was, all those terrible things he did –”

“That’s nothing to do with me!”

“And the crimes of my father are nothing to do with me. My er-ge gave me his surname, just as Hanguang-jun gave you his, and for the same reason – to cut us off from the sins of our original family.”

“I suppose that’s true. But – no one knew about you, just as no one knew about me until I told them, and I only told them because they were my friends. Why’d you tell us? Aren’t you worried we’d tell more people?”

“Of course I am,” Nie Songsong said. “I hope you don’t, of course, but you would’ve found out regardless – second uncle wasn’t exactly subtle in his grief. And I had to tell him.”

“Why? To bring him out of seclusion?” Lan Sizhui hesitated. “Do you care so much for him?”

“Of course not. The last time I met him, I was a small child, and my father was just about to order me murdered; that’s not much of a basis to build a relationship. But having him lock himself away like that, as if he were in mourning…it hurt er-ge. And I won’t let anything hurt my er-ge. Anything, or anyone.”

They looked at each other for a long moment.

“I understand,” Lan Sizhui said.

“I’m glad you do,” Nie Songsong said, and then smiled. “I would’ve had to escalate to threats next, and I’m given to understand that I’m too short to really pull them off properly.”

Lan Sizhui snorted. “I think we’ve all learned that that’snot true.”

“Should we talk about this?” Jin Ling asked, arms crossed over his chest and glaring.

“What do you want to talk about?” Nie Songsong replied.

“How about the fact that your father tried to kill me?”

“Sure. Can we talk about the fact that you got all of his affection for years and years after he tried to kill me?”

Jin Ling blanched.

“I wonder if he would’ve gotten me a dog, too,” Nie Songsong mused. “I was too young for that when he ordered his demonic cultivator to feed me to fierce corpses and have my body ravaged until it was barely recognizable…but sure, let’s talk about how he tried to kill you.”

“I was talking about Sect Leader Nie!”

“Well, then, you should have been more specific. Sect Leader Nie’s my brother, not my father.”

“He’s a whole generation older than you!”

“My little uncle, then.”

Jin Ling flinched. “That’s worse. Go back to calling him your brother.”

Nie Songsong shrugged. “Would it help if we fought?”

“…what?”

“It makes me feel better, sometimes. Besides, I may be short, but I’m pretty good with the saber. I bet I could match your sword…maybe not your arrows. But I’ve always wanted to try.”

Jin Ling looked at him suspiciously for a long moment.

“Okay,” he finally said. “Sure. Why not?”

“I really hate that you’re kind of cool,” Lan Jingyi told him.

“I am so cool,” Nie Songsong said, and passed him another jar of wine. “Want to see my spring book collection?”

“…yes please.”

“Thank you for taking care of him,” Lan Xichen said to Nie Huaisang, who shrugged. “I’m sorry that you couldn’t trust me to help.”

“It’s only what I should have done,” Nie Huaisang said, not for the first time. He’d said it so often these past few days that it felt like a new refrain, an alternative to the old I don’t know, I don’t know, I don’t know. He preferred the original. “I was his little uncle, remember? I held him on his first month party. How could I do any less?”

He did not say that Lan Xichen, who could be classified as Jin Rusong’s older uncle, had done much less, but from Lan Xichen’s expression, he’d taken it that way anyway.

“You never…” Lan Xichen hesitated. “Did you ever have any – concerns?”

“That he’d turn out an idiot? No. I figured he’d be in good company, with me.”

“That’s not what I meant!”

“Oh, you meant whether I was worried that he’d grow up longing for his blood family over his adopted family and turn against me in favor of his real father?” Nie Huaisang asked mildly. “No, not really. The memory of your father ordering you to be mauled by fierce corpses and to make sure your face is destroyed so that there’s a reason to refuse to let your mother see the body, as it would only upset her, is a fairly effective panacea against things like that.”

“No,” Lan Xichen said, though he looked sick all over again at the reminder of how considerate Jin Guangyao could be when it came to those he thought of as people, and how monstrous he was towards those he didn’t. “No, just – your brother always took such a hard line against the Wen sect…”

“Because they were raised with the philosophy that they were superior to the rest of us and my brother purposefully made himself into the symbol of their fallibility, thereby making himself and all the rest of us the primary target for their traumatic realization that they’re just as weak and vulnerable as everyone else,” Nie Huaisang said, rolling his eyes. “Our Nie sect cultivators were always especially targeted whenever we were captured – our survival rate as prisoners of war was less than half all the other sects, and it wasn’t just because we were usually more injured when we got caught. Even the civilians surnamed Wen would pull out knives and try to stab us in the back if they had half a chance! We were in a blood feud with them, er-ge. You don’t put down blood feuds just like that, not even if you want to. That’s not how it works.”

Lan Xichen nodded slowly, thoughtful.

“Anyway, Songsong is mine now,” Nie Huaisang said. “Just as Lan Sizhui is your brother’s, and Jin Ling Jiang Cheng’s. Can’t we all just agree to not care about the rest?”

“I suppose we have to,” Lan Xichen said, bowing his head. “Huaisang…did you ever think about what happens now? I mean – what should we do next?”

“I don’t know,” Nie Huaisang said, and smiled humorlessly when Lan Xichen looked at him. “I’m not joking. I didn’t know what to do when I got Songsong for the first time, er-ge, and I don’t know what to do now, either. I just wanted to see justice done for my da-ge, and I did, and for the rest – I don’t know.”

“That’s fine,” Lan Xichen said. “I don’t know, either.”

Nothing ventured, nothing gained, Nie Huaisang thought. Spine as steel as your saber.

“Would you like to come visit the Unclean Realm sometime?” he asked, pretending to be casual. “Perhaps we can figure out what we don’t know together. If you like.”

“…perhaps I will,” Lan Xichen said.

#mdzs #nie huaisang #xue yang #lan xichen #jin rusong #jin ling #lan sizhui #lan jingyi #my fic #my fics #nothing ventured nothing gained

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bloody-bee-tea · 3 years

Text

Get Together

This fic was also inspired by this prompt from @mingcheng-prompts

Jiang Cheng stares at the letter in his hands.

“You can’t be serious,” he says, but when he raises his eyes at Nie Mingjue he seems deadly serious.

“Of course I am,” Nie Mingjue replies and pushes a scroll towards him. “My courtship gift.”

Jiang Cheng blinks but doesn’t move.

He knows he can’t say yes—could never, not with everything that happened—but he wants to.

Jiang Cheng learned to appreciate Nie Mingjue over the course of the last few gruesome weeks, learned to rely on him and trust him to have his back in battle—and yes, maybe even fell in love with him—so of course he wants to say yes.

But he can’t.

“I have nothing,” he tells Nie Mingjue and doesn’t make a move for the scroll. “My Sect burned. My parents died. My people are scattered.”

He’s not even sure he still has Wei Wuxian.

“There is nothing I can give you.”

“Good thing then, that I’m here for you and not your Sect or for what you can give me,” Nie Mingjue easily replies and doesn’t seem put off in the least.

“No,” Jiang Cheng tells him, though the word barely makes it out of his mouth.

Nie Mingjue observes him in silence for a few minutes, before he sags with a sigh.

“I respect your wish,” he says but he still pushes the scroll closer to Jiang Cheng. “You should still take this. Consider it a gift from one Sect Leader to another, if you must.”

“I shouldn’t take this,” Jiang Cheng replies as he gets up.

If he accepts this, and finds something thoughtful, something useful, something he would like, then his resolve will crumble.

And he can’t afford that. They are still at war. His Sect is still barely more than ground into dust.

“Nie-zongzhu,” he bows low, before he walks out of the tent, away from Nie Mingjue, without looking back.

Jiang Cheng wonders not for the first time when fate will stop taking things away from him.

~*~*~

Jiang Cheng has to admit that he thought things would change between him and Nie Mingjue with the rejected courtship, but they don’t.

Nie Mingjue treats him the same as before, except that now Jiang Cheng flushes whenever Nie Mingjue comes close or smiles at him or is simply nice to him.

Jiang Cheng is flushing a lot, even though the war is still raging.

He really wishes he could have said yes to Nie Mingjue.

~*~*~

Fate does not stop taking things from Jiang Cheng. First his brother-in-law, then his sister and to top it off his brother as well.

The only thing left is Jin Ling.

And—inexplicably—Nie Mingjue.

“What do you want?” Jiang Cheng asks, a shade of desperation to his voice, because Jin Ling won’t stop crying and Jiang Cheng is inevitably going to fuck him up, just like he fucks up everything else.

“I’m here with an offer of courtship,” Nie Mingjue says and puts another letter and the same scroll on the table.

Jiang Cheng wonders if Nie Mingjue lost his mind.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” he hisses, allowing the anger to take over instead of giving in to the want and hurt.

“Nothing. I simply have made up my mind about what I want. And what I want is you.”

He sounds completely serious as he says it, too, and Jiang Cheng wonders if Nie Mingjue lost his sanity on the battlefield.

“Look around you, Nie-zongzhu,” he snaps out, aware that Jin Ling flinches at his tone and Nie Mingjue at the title.

Jiang Cheng tries to calm Jin Ling down and tries to ignore Nie Mingjue and his reaction as best as he can.

If he calls him anything but Nie-zongzhu then he’ll crumble and give in. And he can’t do that.

“I have nothing left in my life,” Jiang Cheng belatedly finishes and Nie Mingjue frowns.

“That’s not true. You have your nephew and your Sect. That is not nothing. And you have me, too, if you accept the courtship or not.”

“Why are you so—” Jiang Cheng wants to say ‘good’ but the word chokes him up.

Nie Mingjue seems to understand it anyway.

“Because you deserve it.”

“I don’t,” Jiang Cheng says over Jin Ling’s head, the boy still crying and Jiang Cheng woefully unprepared to deal with him.

“I think you do,” Nie Mingjue softly says and then stands up to correct Jiang Cheng’s grasp on Jin Ling.

It doesn’t immediately calm him down, but Jiang Cheng feels more secure holding Jin Ling like that and the small kindness is enough to bring tears to his eyes.

“I can’t,” Jiang Cheng whispers, and hides his face in Jin Ling’s baby hair. “I can’t.”

There’s a brief silence where Jiang Cheng thinks that Nie Mingjue will simply storm out on him, but then he feels lips pressed against the crown of his head.

“I’ll be here when you can,” Nie Mingjue promises him right before he leaves.

Jiang Cheng can’t bear to watch him go, and it’s only much, much later that he realizes that while Nie Mingjue took the letter with the official courtship, he left the scroll behind.

Jiang Cheng doesn’t touch it.

~*~*~

Jiang Cheng is shaking as he steps off Sandu and if he’s not careful he’s going to crush the scroll in his hand.

Maybe it would be better anyway.

“Where is Nie Mingjue?” he demands to know from the first disciple that has the guts to step close and to their credit, he is immediately led to a study room.

“What the fuck is this?” he hisses as he throws the scroll at Nie Mingjue. “What the hell are you up to?”

It seems like he caught Nie Mingjue off guard because the scroll hits him square in the chest but when he lowers his gaze at it, understanding crosses his face.

“It’s a gift,” Nie Mingjue slowly says and picks the scroll out of his robes to put it on the table.

“A gift,” Jiang Cheng hisses. “Preparing me for the fact that you’re planning to invade us?”

It’s—just the thought makes Jiang Cheng sick, because he barely had time to build Lotus Pier back up again. He only managed the most necessary buildings so far.

Not to mention the fact that he trusted Nie Mingjue, that he thought he was in love with him.

“It’s nothing like that,” Nie Mingjue reassures him and Jiang Cheng has to give it to him, he stays remarkably calm.

“Then explain what it is!” Jiang Cheng demands and Nie Mingjue sighs.

“I mean, I guess it was intended that way, once, when we first started? But it’s not anymore. We keep track of the layout of all the Sects. I know you all thought us stupid but Qinghe Nie always expected a war ever since Wen Ruohan first came into power centuries ago. We made it a habit to sketch out every Sect’s layout so that in the case of a war we could help them rebuild. None of you are as sturdy as we are.”

It’s a sensible explanation and it makes sense, Jiang Cheng guesses, but the hurt about the perceived threat from Nie Mingjue of all people still sits deep.

“Why give it to me?”

Nie Mingjue stares at him as if he’s stupid, and Jiang Cheng thinks that’s probably fair.

“It was supposed to be a courtship gift; my gift to help you rebuild Lotus Pier like it used to be if you wished it so. You rejected me, twice, and I thought it cruel to keep this from you despite that.”

Jiang Cheng can’t keep Nie Mingjue’s eyes any longer and so he stares down at the scroll again.

He had looked at it, of course, and he had studied it very carefully; there were paths and buildings on that plan that even he didn’t remember.

“Show me the other ones,” Jiang Cheng says, because he needs the proof that this was not simply to attack him again, now that Yunmeng Jiang is weakened beyond belief.

Nie Mingjue simply nods and leads Jiang Cheng to a huge library. It seems like Nie Mingjue knows his way around here very well, because there’s no hesitation as he makes his way over to a shelf and gets three more scrolls out.

“We even have one of the Wen Sect, in case someone more sensible ever took over once Wen Ruohan inevitably destroyed everything,” he says as he hands the scrolls to Jiang Cheng.

Jiang Cheng opens all three of them, just to be sure, but they are what Nie Mingjue promised.

“You wanted to help us rebuild,” Jiang Cheng whispers and Nie Mingjue shrugs.

“Qinghe Nie always wanted to help in the case of war,” he agrees and before Jiang Cheng can snap at him that he is deliberately misunderstanding him, he goes on. “But yes. I specifically wanted to help you rebuild.”

“Why?”

“It was supposed to be a courtship gift, remember?” Nie Mingjue asks with a sad smile and takes the scrolls back from Jiang Cheng.

“But why?” Jiang Cheng asks again, because that’s the part he doesn’t get.

Everyone left him alone; his family is dead, Lanling Jin is just waiting for him to die or move a toe out of line, Gusu Lan is too busy rebuilding themselves and for all that Nie Mingjue tried to court him—twice—even Qinghe Nie didn’t so much as offer help.

Well, Jiang Cheng guesses he has to rethink that part, because clearly Nie Mingjue did want to help.

“Why me?”

“Because you’re fierce and beautiful and strong. You’re a natural leader, you’re a good Sect Leader, a good uncle. Because I admire you and I’m in love with you,” Nie Mingjue easily says as if it means nothing to him to say all of that out loud, about Jiang Cheng of all people.

It means the world to Jiang Cheng.

“Ask me again,” he whispers, begs almost, because he’s tired of keeping himself from this.

He’s tired of rebuilding and of raising Jin Ling and having to do it all alone and if Nie Mingjue wants this, still, after Jiang Cheng was already stupid twice, then he’ll take it.

He will allow himself at least this happiness.

“Jiang Wanyin, will you let me court you?” Nie Mingjue asks without hesitation and just the thought that Nie Mingjue waited even though Jiang Cheng rejected him twice, that he still wants him, brings tears to Jiang Cheng’s eyes.

“Yes, please,” he breathes out and Nie Mingjue doesn’t waste any time before he pulls him into a tight hug.

“Thank you,” he mutters into Jiang Cheng’s hair as if he’s the blessed one here, when really, Jiang Cheng can’t believe that he should get this lucky.

“I’m sorry I was stupid,” Jiang Cheng says into Nie Mingjue’s shoulder.

“You weren’t. There was a lot going on, and I understand,” Nie Mingjue reassures him and Jiang Cheng slings his arms around his middle.

“I like you, too,” Jiang Cheng belatedly says, and even though he’s not yet ready to tell Nie Mingjue that he’s in love with him, too, it doesn’t seem to matter to Nie Mingjue.

“That’s good to hear,” Nie Mingjue gives back, and pushes Jiang Cheng away from him, just far enough to duck down and press a light kiss to his lips.

“We’re going to take this slow, okay? Rebuilding first.”

Jiang Cheng has difficulties swallowing around the lump in his throat, so he simply nods, grateful that Nie Mingjue seems to understand what he so desperately needs.

His Sect back to a point where he doesn’t have to fear for their simple survival every night, and a reassuring, steady presence at his side.

“Thank you,” he says again with feeling and Nie Mingjue smiles at him.

“Always,” he promises.

And for once in Jiang Cheng’s life, someone keeps that promise.

Link to my ko-fi on the sidebar!

#bt writes #mingcheng #mdzsbingo #the untamed #mdzs #getting together #hurt/comfort #courting #misunderstanding #first kiss

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ymiwritesstuff · 3 years

Text

Tenderly Perfect

Well, here it is, a Zhongli fic as I promised. I swear this man is doing things to me I can’t lmao. Also I’m not THAT deep in the lore so apologies if some things are incorrect. Anyway hope you enjoy, just some simple fluff with not much plot hehe.

Genshin Impact

Zhongli x Fem!Reader

Summary: Zhongli insists on taking you outside the city for a moment of good food, company and hair brushing.

Notes: SPOILERS FOR THE ARCHON QUESTS!, Fluff

Climbing to the highest point of Mt. Tianheng was the last thing you were expecting that day, though you should have expected as much. You have known him so long, of course he would be the one to suggest something like this. After hearing that you had never been on top of the impressive mountains just outside of the city, he was almost shocked and insisted on spending a day there, enjoying an all too lavish meal from Wanmin restaurant.

Zhongli held your hand throughout the trip, despite it not being entirely necessary, though he did save your face from hitting the ground a few times as the terrain proved to be rather unforgiving with its uneven areas and tiny pits. Being the perfect gentleman he was, he was more than happy to carry everything you brought with you on your little trip in his other hand while never letting go of yours. The action warmed your heart.

“We’ll reach our destination shortly.” He turned to you, a warm smile on his face. “The view up here is among the finest in all of Liyue.”

The way his deep voice spoke softly tingled your insides pleasantly, his hand gently holding yours as you ascended a set of stone stairs. You couldn’t help but mirror his smile, appreciating his efforts of showing you his favorite places in hopes that you would enjoy them as well. With him though, everything was enjoyable. Perhaps it was his divine presence that seemed to make every location that much better.

“I can’t wait.”

Despite learning of his true identity only recently, you had always had this underlying feeling that there was something peculiar about him. The way he spoke of Liyue’s traditions and history as if he had been present in those influential moments, was something you thought about a lot, yet it still surprised you when the truth was revealed.

Zhongli was somewhat uncertain of your reaction initially but was washed with relief when you expressed no hysterical shock or possible hostility. Since then, he has been enjoying his retirement with you with much jubilance.

You knew the journey had come to an end when Zhongli let go of your hand, allowing you to take in the breathtaking view on top of the mountain. Your (E/C) sparkled in awe as they looked around. The entirety of Liyue was visible, the whole city looking so incredibly tiny from so high up. The gentle breeze that hugged your form and swayed your hair was warm and welcoming, and you finally realized why the Lord of Geo wanted you to witness this with your own eyes.

“Zhongli this... This is…” You couldn’t find the right words because nothing would do the stunning view that bathed under the afternoon sun any justice. So you opted to just turn to him, immediately noticing his gentle smile that always made your heart swoon.

“I am glad you like the sight.”

You walked up to him and placed a kiss on his lips, being mindful of the bag he was carrying. After pulling away you glued your eyes on his resplendent golden ones, staring at him in admiration.

“It’s perfect.”

His other hand rested on your waist as you pressed your foreheads together, enjoying the feeling of having each other so close. At times like these, you couldn’t help but wonder what had you done to be blessed with someone like him. One would think that after becoming aware of his true identity as Rex Lapis, you would treat him as such. However, the person before you was Zhongli, just Zhongli, the man whom you had met while wandering aimlessly around Liyue, surrounded by unfamiliarity.

“Shall we begin?” you heard him ask, lightly lifting the bag that held the food you hadn’t even realized you had been craving. The quality of Wanmin restaurant didn’t disappoint, though you wondered if Zhongli had remembered to bring Mora with him when making his order. Though, knowing him, he most likely found another way to pay for the meals as he always did.

“Certainly.”

You helped him place a large blanket on the grass, allowing for a more comfortable experience, before placing the food that was still somehow warm on top of it, your eyes admiring the meals prepared by the famous restaurant. As you examined the sight before you, you noticed something and decided to open your mouth.

“No seafood?”

Your words were meant as a mere joke, as you were more than aware that the Geo Archon absolutely despised having anything from the sea on his plate. Still, to your surprise, he merely looked at you, slightly tilting his head to the side.

“Would you have preferred that? If you’d like it is in no way an issue for me to go back and-”

You cut him off with a giggle, finding his desire to make you happy above all else adorable.

“No, no. There’s no need. This is perfect.” You threw him a smile which he happily returned.

Once all the food had been laid out, you immediately went to dig in, enjoying the delicate flavors of the jade parcels and the juiciness of the meat rolls. With each bite you hummed in satisfaction, all the while enjoying the surrounding nature and the wonderful company.

In the midst of the dining and chatting with the gentleman responsible for this lovely picnic, the surrounding wind seemed to get stronger, as if the playful Anemo Archon himself was messing with it. You only noticed the change in the weather when the wind decided to latch itself onto your hair, causing it to fly everywhere before settling right on your face.

You heard Zhongli let out a chuckle of amusement as you moved your hair away from your eyes, looking at him with slight embarrassment in your gaze. With a soft sigh, you reached for your own bag and took out a hairbrush that you had fortunately taken with you.

“Didn’t think I’d need to use this here,” you laughed softly tracing the designs carved into the handle. It was an old brush but did its job wonderfully.

Just as you were about to start brushing your hair that had become full of knots in a matter of seconds, you felt Zhongli place his hand on top of the one that held the brush. You looked up at him questioningly.

“May I?”

His voice was gentle as if he was asking with the utmost carefulness. You didn’t understand why though, you were more than happy to accept his offer.

“Of course.”

You gave him the hairbrush and turned your back to him, leaving your messy hair to be dealt with by the Geo Archon. Before he would start running the bristles through your locks, however, he had to inspect the brush closer. His golden eyes looked at the carvings, his mind traveling through Liyue’s long history.

“I recall a time when these handmade hairbrushes first arrived in Liyue. Traveling merchants would sell these at the harbor for a large sum of Mora,” he stated and you listened, always ready to hear his many stories and memories from a time unknown to you. “Only a few made their way to civilians’ hands, and fewer remain today.”

“Guess I’m pretty lucky then, huh?” A smile stretched his lips at your words.

“Indeed you are, my love.”

Zhongli ran his covered fingers over the carvings on the back of the brush reminiscing for a moment as he often did, especially now that he had abandoned his position as Morax. He removed his gloves and placed them beside him on the blanket before finally moving his attention to your (H/C) hair.

“Despite its age, this brush has stood the test of time rather beautifully.”

You felt the brush run through your locks, closing your eyes and enjoying the feeling.

“You mean just like you?” You joked, which earned you a chuckle from the male as he occasionally ran his bare hand through your hair.

Zhongli loved your hair, how soft it felt between his fingers, how it often swayed in the wind, how perfectly it shone. It framed your face perfectly and only enhanced your appearance he was so fond of. It was as if it was touched by a divine being.

He took his time with brushing it, making sure to unravel every knot carefully as he did not want you to feel even the slightest bit of discomfort. Even if you did, though, you wouldn’t mind. The fact that he was willing to brush your hair for you in the first place was good enough and filled you with happiness in its purest form.

His golden eyes, filled with a fondness for your entire being watched as your hair regained its previous state, and even when there were no visible knots, he continued to run his hand through the strands, enjoying the softness that he had restored.

“Beautiful,” he whispered as you felt his hand move to your cheek. He turned you to face him, his touch so gentle one would think it impossible that they were used to make spears out of stone to slay an ancient god. His words, no matter how many times he said them, always made a shade of crimson dust your cheeks.

Zhongli reached for something in the bag that once held all the food items, retrieving a single Glaze Lily, fully in bloom. Your eyes glued themselves on it, staring at the stunning flora in awe.

“I picked this before our departure,” he said as if answering a question you hadn’t stated out loud. “My intention was to merely give this to you, but…”

With gentle movements, Zhongli placed the lily behind your ear, moving a tiny bit of your freshly brushed hair to the side. You watched him, drowning in his loving gaze.

“This just might be the most efficient way of doing so.”

He kept a hand on your cheek and you placed yours on top of it, wanting to enjoy the feeling of his bare hand on your skin. You smiled once more, his words sticking to you. He made you feel so happy, so appreciated, so loved. No words came out of your mouth as you slowly closed the gap between you.

Zhongli returned the kiss, keeping his hand on your cheek while the tips of his fingers grazed the tiniest part of your perfect (H/C) hair that he adored.

#genshin impact #GI #genshin impact x reader #原神 #zhongli #genshin impact zhongli #zhongli x reader #genshin impact zhongli x reader #zhongli x you #genshin impact imagines #reader insert #fluff #gi zhongli #gi zhongli x reader

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mint-yooxgi · 3 years

Text

Rumours - Yandere!Fuckboi!Lucas X Reader

Yandere AU

Genre: Mature, Horror, Angst, Smut (Masturbation, this one is pretty sexual)

Pairing: Lucas X Reader

Words: 14,505

Warnings: This is a Yandere story, it will contain themes such as stalking, violence, obsession, possessive natures, and just general overall creepiness and swearing. You have been warned.

A/n: Heyyo! After months of nothing I present... something!!! I know it’s not exactly the ficmas I promised, but here’s one of the fics I had planned for it! I’m pretty happy with the way this one turned out, he’s definitely not as intense as some of my other yanderes on my blog, but I like it. This one definitely turned out longer than I expected, so I really hope you all enjoy! As always, feedback is greatly appreciated!

There are always three rules he tells them before they fuck.

Number one: no leaving marks on his skin. He hates having to try and cover them up in front of you, or try and explain that they don’t mean anything to him. You never believe him, and the last thing he wants to do is to push you away any further than you already seem. Besides, the only one that he wants to mark his skin like that is you.

Number two: never say his name. It sounds wrong coming off of anyone else’s lips that aren’t yours in these situations. He usually pictures you the whole time anyways, and their voice just takes the fun out of everything. Besides, it only manages to pull him back to the reality that it’s not you with him. Yet.

Number three: do not fake anything. He doesn’t need them to pretend to be enjoying things in order to stroke his ego. No. He wants to know that he’s actually good at what he’s doing. That way he can do, and be, his best when he’s finally able to be with you. Knowing how to properly please someone and recognize their reactions is the first step, otherwise it would become annoying with how many times people would attempt to exaggerate their noises and reactions. He needs to know that when he finally gets to be with you after all of these others, that it will leave you breathless, desperate, and craving his touch.

Currently, he finds himself in one of these situations. One hand tangled in the hair of some girl who’s name he can’t remember as he fucks her from behind. He can feel her meeting his every thrust, and he can hear the whimpers she lets out into the pillow that her face is pressed into. He can tell she’ll never forget this, as he’s been the best fuck she’s had, she told him so herself.

For a fleeting moment, he allows himself to close his eyes. Picturing the same thing he does every time he finds himself in these situations. He envisions that you’re with him right now, and not some random girl he picked up at a party that night. He almost lets a groan slip passed his lips, but he bites them in order to contain it.

He always makes sure to keep as quiet as he can during these times, as he believes that you’re the only one deserving of hearing his sounds. Occasionally, a few do slip past his lips if he allows himself to fantasize about you for too long, but he’s gotten better at containing them around others for the time being.

With a loud cry of his name, he can feel her coming around him.

Immediately, he’s ripped out of his fantasy with you, stopping any and all of his movements. It’s deadly quiet in the room now, the only sounds coming from their deep breaths.

“What did I tell you?” His is voice low, full of frustration as he gets denied right before his own release.

“Fuck-“ she pants, “I’m sorry, I don’t know wh-“

He cuts her off, “get out.”

“What-“ her eyes widen as she pushes herself up onto her hands, feeling him pull out of her from behind.

“I said, get out!” His brows are furrowed in distaste as his voice echoes around the room.

Hurriedly, she scrambles off of the bed and grabs her clothes. She can tell he’s fuming as he stands there watching her flee after throwing her clothes on, dick still painfully hard and throbbing for release.

Hearing the click of his front door falling shut, he lets out a sigh. Running his fingers through his hair, Lucas tilts his head back and lets out a frustrated ‘fuck’. He was this close to finishing, and she had to go and break one of his rules, and while he was thinking of you, no less.

Stomping through his apartment, he quickly locks the front door, ensuring he has complete privacy, while also making sure that she can’t come storming back in. Not that she would, but he’d rather be safe. He’s had a few others do that even after they’ve broken his rules and he’s kicked them out, and he doesn’t want a repeat of those times.

Making it back to his room, he walks immediately into his adjacent bathroom to have a shower. He wants to wash this girl’s touch off of him, and besides, he does still want to finish.

Turning the water on, he waits for it to heat up slightly, and grabs a small bottle from underneath his sink. Stepping into the shower once the water is a decent temperature, he places the bottle he’s grabbed to the side, letting out another sigh as he allows the water to fall over his back. Running his fingers through his now wet hair, he lets out another sigh.

The first thing he does is grab the bottle he’s brought into the shower with him, opening it and allowing its familiar floral scent to fill his nostrils. It’s the same soap that you use, and he knows it’ll be able to comfort him right now.

He got lucky. One day in class he overheard you talking to your friend, Jordan, about this new soap you got from the store. Ever since, he’s noticed that that’s the scent you use, or at least, that’s what it smells like each time he manages to get close enough to you that he can faintly breath it in. Thus, the next time he went out, he made sure to grab a bottle. This way, he could use the soap for times like these, when he wants to be wrapped in your scent and feel a comfort only you can provide for him. It isn’t much, but it’s something.

How he wishes it could be you instead. You, who managed to captivate him the moment he first laid eyes upon you in first year. He managed to trip over his own two feet, making a fool of himself in front of you. However, instead of laughing like everyone else did, you came over to make sure he was okay. Granted, you did let out a few chuckles when he clumsily introduced himself, but he heard you call him cute, which only caused his ears to turn a vibrant shade of red in embarrassment.

If only Eunji hadn’t chosen that moment to come up to him and ask him about the night they shared over the weekend, and if anything was going to come out of it. He’s pretty sure he looked like a deer in headlights as she stood there looking expectantly at him, you shuffling from foot to foot awkwardly the whole while.

Unfortunately, your friend soon came running up to you to steer you clear of him. Jordan knew all too well about his building reputation around campus, having had another friend who had experienced it themselves. He had to sit through class overhearing Jordan tell you how bad he is, and how he’ll just fuck you and leave you hanging, because that’s what he does. Little did any of you know that he’d come to realize that he’d never do that to you. No, never you.

Since that day, he's tried to get closer to you to ask you out on a proper date, but circumstances never worked out in his favour. You would either be dragged away by Jordan, or whichever friend you’re with, or he would be interrupted again by someone else wanting to be more than just a one night stand to him. The worst few times were when he finally did manage to talk to you without interruption, only for you to point out the hickies that had been left on his neck. That caused him to start the no marking rule shortly after that incident.

Clenching his jaw, he lets the water wash the soap from his skin. This was supposed to be relaxing, but instead, thinking about all of his failed attempts at asking you out is only serving to make him more tense. He needs to distract himself, and fast.

Now, instead of focussing on the negative memories he has with you, he focusses on the positives. Like how just the other day, you met his gaze, only for your eyes to widen with the cutest expression on your face. Or how he overheard your laughter in the food court yesterday, your expression screaming nothing but pure joy. At that, he manages to crack a small smile, his heart warming in his chest at the thought of him being able to make you laugh and smile like that for him someday.

Fuck, how he just wants to kiss you. So badly he wishes you were here with him now, so he could press you up against the wall and make you see stars. He wants to know what your skin feels like beneath his fingertips, what your hands feel like gripping his hair, but especially, he wants to know what his name sounds like as you scream it for all to hear in ecstasy, letting everyone know that you’re his, and that only he can make you feel this good.

His thoughts, along with the smell of you that’s surrounding him during this time is enough to send him over the edge. He comes with a low moan of your name, eyes closed in bliss as he allows himself to indulge in his fantasies. At least he manages to come with a smile on his face, though he would have preferred opening his eyes to see you, instead of the grimy tiles of his shower once more.

Cleaning himself up quickly, he turns off the water. Grabbing a towel, he dries himself off before wrapping it around his waist and heading back out to his room. Checking his phone, he notices that it’s just past three in the morning.

Letting out another sigh as he pulls on some loose sweats, he hops back into bed. He’ll worry about changing the sheets tomorrow. After all, he does have work later, and he’s already been late the past two times in a row.

Later that day, he groggily makes his way into work. He just manages to make it on time so as not to get reamed out by his manager again, greeting his coworkers with a small wave. Although it isn’t much working at the coffee place on campus, he enjoys it, especially when he gets to work with his best friend, Jongin.

“Late night?” Jongin quirks a knowing eyebrow at Lucas as they both tie their aprons around their waists.

“You know it,” Lucas jokes, smirk evident on his face.

“Damn, another one?” Jongin teases.

“Had to kick her out,” Lucas shrugs.

“You really are heartless, man,” Jongin shakes his head, grin still on his lips as he moves over to take orders.

Lucas says nothing as he moves over to start making drinks for the customers. He notices a few regulars sitting in their usual places inside, and soon he’s busy preparing himself for the rush they usually get just after classes get let out in a few minutes. A few people come in just to see him, and everyone at the café knows it. He has this unique charisma with the clientele, especially the ladies, whom he enjoys casually flirting with. He guesses that’s also what adds on to his reputation, but he just thinks of it as practice for when he gets to finally make you shy from his flirtations towards you. To him, they all mean nothing when compared to you.

Occasionally, during rush, Lucas will loose himself in his work, humming along lowly to whatever song is playing as he calls out name after name. There have been a few times where people will purposely graze his hand as he hands them their drink, but he’s gotten used to it by now that he pays no mind. Again, it means nothing to him, though he wishes people would stop, and notice that he’s not interested.

He’s just finished making two iced caramel macchiatos when he finally takes notice of the name on the cups. Sure enough, looking up, he meets gazes with Jordan, though you’re nowhere in immediate sight. He notices their eyes narrow at him as he hands them the two drinks, thanking him curtly. Normally wherever Jordan is, you’re not far behind.

Eyes follow Jordan out of the café, Lucas now distracted as he attempts to find you. Sure enough, you’re standing just outside the door, waiting for Jordan as they approach you with your drinks. The smile he sees you wear after grabbing your drink makes his heart warm, for there’s a part of him that knows that you smiled because of him.

A small cry of pain escapes his lips as he drops the cup he’s holding. He clutches his now scalding hand in his free one, gritting his teeth as he moves to pick up the dropped cup. In his dazed state, he managed to pour steamed milk onto his hand, too distracted by watching you just through the window.

“Woah, Lucas, you okay, man?” His one coworker asks him, helping him clean up the mess.

“I’m good,” he gets out, tossing the now ruined drink into the garbage.

His coworker only shoots him another concerned glance before they get back to work, nothing but the faint sting of the burn on his hand serving as a reminder that you were smiling because of him only minutes ago. If only he could see you again, but you’re gone as soon as he looks back over to the spot which you were standing in before he spilt the drink.

The rest of his shift passes by slowly, the fatigue from the previous night catching up to him the more he has to deal with each rush that comes in. All he wants is to see you again, and spend more time with you, but he can’t.

The more he thinks about it, the more he realizes that Jordan probably told you to wait outside for them while they got your drinks. Jordan is purposely making you avoid him, so he wouldn’t put it past them to do something like that. If only he would be so lucky as to serve you himself.

His eyes widen slightly as realization crosses his features. He now knows a drink order that you like. In all his months working at the café, you’ve rarely come in while he’s been working, so he’s never been able to flirt with you while making you a drink. Now that he knows you like iced caramel macchiatos, he can bring you some during class. Maybe that will show you how serious he is about you. Either way, he knows that the next time the two of you have class together, he’s bringing you a drink. Maybe he’ll even slip you his number if he gets a chance. Perhaps he’ll even write it on the cup.

A small grin tugs at the corner of his lips as he continues working. This plan is perfect. It most definitely can’t go wrong! He’ll show you, even in the most subtle a way as this, that he can take care of you. He can, and will, always provide for you anything you may ever want or need.

That evening once he gets home, he sets to cleaning his apartment. He’s decided that before anything else, he’s going to make his apartment look and smell nice. Who knows what might happen in the coming weeks, and if by chance you happen upon his home while it’s a mess, he’s be so embarrassed. All he wants to do is impress you, even in the most basic of ways.

He falls asleep that night to fresh sheets on his bad, clutching his pillow tightly to his chest and picturing that it’s you that he’s holding. He indulges in his fantasies as he tends to do with you, and imagines running his fingers through your hair as you fall asleep in his arms. In every sense, he wants you: to love, to cherish, to hold. Nothing could ever change that. He only wishes you were actually here.

Two days later, he prepares himself for what he’s about to do. Taking a deep breath, he clutches the cool drink tighter in his hand, allowing the feeling to ground him as he walks up to where you’re currently sitting before class starts with Jordan beside you.

“Hey, (Y/n),” he greets with a lopsided grin, “how’d you make out with the document analysis that was due yesterday?”

“Not too bad, I think,” you smile politely back at him as Jordan squeezes your thigh lightly underneath the table. “How’d you find it?”

He knows you’re probably just being polite at this point, since a few people have turned to stare, wanting to know if you’re going to fall for his ‘game’ or not. He nearly rolls his eyes at the thought. With you, it’s never a game, and it never would be. Jordan, on the other hand, might beg to differ.

“Glad I just got it done on time,” he shrugs casually.

Truth be told, he’s actually a fairly decent student, and this is his favourite class for two reasons. One, you’re in it, and he can sit close by to you for two hours every week. Two, he actually likes the material of the course. In fact, it’s one of his highest grades right now.

“Is there something we can help you with, Wong?” Jordan’s voice cuts in before he can get in another word.

“Actually, yeah,” Lucas smirks, eyes shining as he notices Jordan’s eyes shift suspiciously to the drink he’s been holding in his hand. Looking directly into your eyes, his expression softens into a smile, “I got this for you.”

Your own eyes widen as he places the coffee on the table beside your notes. Your heart warms at the gesture, but your words seem stuck in your throat for the time being. However, the longer you go just looking at Lucas with those wide eyes, the less confident he becomes.

Did he do the right thing? What if you don’t actually like this drink? Why do you keep staring at him with those eyes? Fuck, if his heart wasn’t racing before, it sure is hammering away in his chest now.

The whole time, questions race through your head as well. Jordan has told you countless times that he doesn’t care for anyone but himself, refusing to do anything for anyone. Jordan has you convinced that Lucas isn’t the kind of guy to just do something out of the goodness of his heart, for they’re sure he doesn’t have one. However, now, you’re not so sure if everything that Jordan has told you about him is true. Maybe he’s not so bad of a guy after all. Maybe he’s just misunderstood.

“I mean, uh-“ he stammers before your voice pulls him back to earth.

“Thanks, Lucas, that’s really sweet of you,” you smile at him, deciding to give him the benefit of the doubt.

His heart skips a beat as he sees that genuine look of happiness on your face, finally directed at him. He feels as if his whole world has stopped, and it’s just the two of you now in the classroom. Nothing could pull him out of this feeling right now, and he can feel a small heat rising up his neck.

“It was nothing,” he tries to play it off cooly, and he just manages not to stutter over his words.

You’re about to say something else, until Jordan beats you to it, and he feels his momentary bliss shattering around him.

“Nice try, dickwad, but it’s not going to work,” they spit, and you watch his expression fall briefly before turning into one of annoyance. “She can’t be bought.”

Before Lucas can retaliate, the professor is walking into the classroom, preparing to begin the lecture. Instead, he ops to shoot a glare at Jordan, letting out an annoyed sigh as he moves to take his seat two rows behind the two of you. He can faintly hear the two of you arguing about him now, and he chooses to tune into that instead of whatever the professor is going to be drawling on about today.

“Jordan, I can’t believe you would say that, he’s just trying to be nice,” you scold, reaching for the drink before they smack your hand away.

“He just wants to get in your pants, (Y/n), and he’ll do whatever he can to seduce you in order to succeed,” they retort.

“I don’t know, this seemed pretty genuine to me,” you mumble as Jordan reaches for the drink instead.

“Think about it, hun,” they continue. “It’s a little creepy how not even two days ago I got us this exact drink at the school café, of which he was working at, and now he shows up to our only shared class with the same drink. Is that not suspicious to you?”

“Why can’t you just give him the benefit of the doubt,” you sigh. “Maybe he’s just trying to impress me?”

He smirks at this. You couldn’t have been more accurate if you tried.

“Well, if so, then do you think he remembered to use lactose free milk?” They counter. “If he cares that much, he should have remembered that one of the drinks was made with lactose free milk, considering he made them. It would have been a fifty-fifty chance on who would have needed that, so to be safe, if he was observant, he should have gotten it for you with that in mind.”

His expression falls. He didn’t even think of that. He was so out of it that day that he doesn’t even remember which milk he used for each. Lucas was too caught up in the thought of seeing you, and then actually catching you smiling, that he forgot all about that. Clenching his jaw, he curses himself.

“If he didn’t, it’s an honest mistake,” you say.

“I don’t know why you’re so intent on defending him, he’s not a good guy, (Y/n),” Jordan shakes their head as you frown slightly.

“I still feel bad,” you whisper. “He did get me a drink, and I don’t want it to go to waste.”

Just as you’re about to reach for it again, they smack your hand once more, “oh, no you don’t. You’ll literally die if you drink that.”

“Well, I don’t want it to go to waste,” you reiterate, frown more prominent now.

“Fine,” they sigh. “I’ll drink it then.”

“Okay,” you nod slowly, a small frown on your face as you watch as Jordan slides the cup closer to themselves.

The whole time, Lucas is fuming. Not only is he mad at himself for not remembering something as significant as making your drink properly, but he’s furious that your drink is now being consumed by Jordan. Though, he’s more upset around the circumstances that led to this, than you not actually drinking the coffee. The last thing he wants to do is be the reason for your discomfort in any situation.

He’s also upset about the fact that Jordan only seems to be pushing you away from him. From the sounds of things, you do want to give him a chance, and fuck, if the way you looked at him earlier was any indication how you felt towards him, he’d be right there to sweep you off of your feet in an instance. Maybe him and all his subtleties towards you are actually working. No matter, the next time he’ll just have to make sure to get your drink right, and make sure Jordan isn’t around to ruin things for him.

Except, he’s not expecting the rumour that arises within the next week, and once he hears Jongin telling him about it at work one day, he nearly drops his phone in the break room.

“What?” His voice comes out rushed, eyes wide as his lips part slightly in shock.

“Yeah! Apparently what’s been going around campus is that you’re trying to get in Jordan’s pants,” Jongin reiterates.

“How the fuck?” He trails off.

“I don’t know man, but rumour has it you bought them coffee last week,” Jongin shrugs.

“I didn’t buy them coffee,” he mutters, only causing Jongin to quirk a brow.

“Word on campus is that Jordan came in to the café last week, you stared at them the whole time while they left, longingly, apparently,” Jongin goes on to say, “and then showed up to your class two days later with that same drink they ordered for themselves.”

“Fuck me,” Lucas sighs. “The drink wasn’t meant for them, it was for (Y/n).”

Jongin frowns slightly until realization flashes in his eyes, “you mean that girl you’ve had a thing for since first year?”

A small nod is all the confirmation he gives.

“Welp,” Jongin stands up, clapping Lucas on the shoulder as he passes, “good luck, dude.”

Another sigh escapes Lucas’ lips as Jongin exits the break room. He’s not sure how exactly this rumour could have started, or who started it for this matter. However, it’s only going to serve as another obstacle for him to be with you. Hopefully, it doesn’t put too much of a damper on his plans.

Easier said than done.

The next two weeks is spent being conscious of his every move. He notices the way some people have been watching him around campus, especially when Jordan is around. It’s usually old flings of his, jealous that they mean nothing more to him than a one night stand. They’ll never mean anything more than a one night stand, either. During those times, he makes sure to never look their way. Only when you’re around does he dare a glance in their direction, but even then, he doesn’t hide the fact that it’s you that he’s looking at.

Part of him hopes a new rumour will spread that it’s actually you he’s interested in. At least then there’d be some truth to it, and he would be able to use it to his advantage. He can’t count the number of times he’s pictured you confronting him about his feelings in some secluded space, only for him to confess and the two of you end up kissing in the heat of the moment. His mind always wanders further, imagining pressing you up against the wall and taking you right then and there. He wants you, badly, and he’d be more than happily claim you as his own whenever, or wherever you wanted him to.

Resting his head in his hand, he zones out to the lecture. His gaze remains transfixed on your back as his mind plays one of these scenarios in his head. Oh, how you’d grip his hair and call out his name as he thrusts into you, his fingers digging into the skin of your thighs. How he’d claim your lips, over and over again, amongst other, more intimate parts of your body.

He licks his lips, getting lost in his haze of desire for you, and what could be. So much so, that when he shifts slightly in his seat, he can feel his semi-erect cock pressing against the material of his jeans. Letting out a low breath, he attempts to calm himself down. Thank goodness the break is starting now, so he can focus on fixing his problem, and not sit through the rest of class with a hard-on. The last thing he needs, or wants for that matter, is for someone to notice.

Rubbing at his face with his hands, he lets out a deep sigh. Shifting in his seat, he angles himself in a way that no one would be able to see what’s happening to him. Thank fuck he decided to sit beside the wall today. Not to mention he’s got the perfect angle of you, two rows down, as usual.

He’s pulled out of his thoughts when he hears you let out a small squeal, successfully drawing the attention of those around you as well.

“Oh my god, Jordan, look,” you grin, smacking their arm lightly repeatedly.

“What is it? Geez,” they rub at the side of their head, “you’re gonna blow my brains out.”

“Sorry,” you reply sheepishly, before the grin is back on your face, “but look! Ten has silver hair this comeback!”

“Yeah, so?” They yawn, clearly disinterested in your rambling.

“So?” You scoff. “You know I have a thing for silver hair, it just looks so sexy. Especially on him.”

Jordan just chuckles in amusement, “I know, boo, I was just teasing you. I know you love light coloured hairstyles.”

“I do indeed,” you nod once, and that’s all the confirmation Lucas needs to start looking at hairdressers in the area to get his hair dyed.

He’s never given much thought to the colour of his hair before, always sticking with his natural hue over anything he might deem too risqué. However, he’d more than willingly make an exception just for you. If this means you seeing him in a more desirable light, he’ll do it in a heart beat. Besides, a change might do him some good.

Now, to look up this ‘Ten’ guy who has you practically drooling at your computer screen.

A quick search of this guy’s name pulls up quite a few pictures that have a frown pulling at Lucas’ features. What does this guy have that he doesn’t? Well, except for the fact that he’s an idol, and apparently has silver hair now.

The rest of class is spent with Lucas pouting slightly while looking up facts about this Ten guy that you apparently like so much. Maybe he can alter himself to be more desirable to you through some of this guy’s behaviours. First things first, he’ll start with his hair and see how it goes from there.

He can hardly believe he’s getting jealous over some idol whom you don’t even know. Lucas knows he has more of a chance with you than this Ten guy, but he can’t help but worry. What if his plan doesn’t work, and the two of you don’t actually end up together.

Immediately, he shakes his head to clear his thought. No. He doesn’t even want to think about the possibility of you not ending up with him. He can’t see himself being happier with anyone else other than you, and he knows he can make you so happy, if you’d just let him. He’d do anything for you. Absolutely anything.

All too soon, class in ending, and he’s watching as you pack up your things before heading out of the classroom with Jordan in tow, the two of you still talking about this upcoming comeback. He makes sure to keep his distance while trailing behind the two of you, making sure he looks inconspicuous as he heads to his next class. He wants to hear as much as he can before leaving you for today, wanting to get a better gage on your interest in this Ten guy.

A sour expression resides on his face for the rest of the day. He doesn’t like the fact that this idol is getting all of you attention, and not him. Why can’t you ever focus on him?

Oh, that’s right. Jordan.

If it weren’t for that friend of yours, the two of you could have already been in a happy relationship. He huffs, now heading to the parking lot to head home after sitting through his last class of the day. Once he makes it to his car, he hops in and starts the engine, looking at his reflection in the rearview mirror. In a few day’s time, he has his hair appointment, and hopefully by then, he’ll have thought of a way to get Jordan out of your life so that he can finally have you all to himself.

The rest of the week passes by fairly normally for him, and he’s happy with the way his hair has turned out. He got it cut, too, and it feels even softer to the touch. At least, that’s what his fling from last night told him.

The stress of the week caught up to him, and he had to relieve it somehow, so he felt it best to take out his frustrations on someone else. Needless to say, he was the best they’ve ever had, and they didn’t break any of his rules. He doesn’t think he’s ever went as hard as he did last night, picturing you the whole time. He couldn’t help himself, letting the events of the week affect him more than he wanted.

Again, he ended up kicking the girl out of his apartment before she could stay the night. Usually, he won’t let them, since he doesn’t want to deal with them when he wakes up. This gives him more time to think about you, and picture you wrapped in his arms instead of someone else who might want to talk about their feelings for him or some other shit like that. That’s a huge no for him. Again, unless it was actually you.

Making it into work the next day, he sighs. Saturdays on campus can usually be pretty slow, so he’s not looking forward to working all that much. In fact, the day ends up being so slow that a few people get sent home early, but unfortunately for him, he’s stuck here until close. Even Jongin heads out early, leaving Lucas to work with two of his other coworkers he doesn’t really talk to. At least he can hang out in the break room if it gets too slow.

About an hour before close, he’s stuck behind the counter by himself for a bit while his one coworker takes out the trash and the other is on their break. He knows he can call them out if he needs them, but he doubts they’ll get a rush this late in the evening.

A small sigh escapes his lips as he hears the door to the café swing open. His back is turned to the register as he finishes grabbing down a bag of coffee beans to refill the pot for the morning. As soon as he’s closed the cupboard and turned back around, he nearly drops the bag of coffee beans in his hands.

There you stand, in one of your oversized hoodies, with a friendly smile on your face. Most importantly, you’re alone.

The two of you stare at each other for a moment, him blinking a few times in disbelief and managing to get out a measly little ‘hey’. Of which, he curses himself immediately afterwards. Is that really all he can get out when he’s finally alone in front of you?

“Hey there,” you giggle, and he swears it’s the cutest damn sound he’s ever heard, “you’ve changed your hair.”

“Uh, yeah,” he swallows, nervous all of a sudden about what you think about it.

“I like it,” you smile softly. “Looks nice.”

He freezes for a moment, nearly forgetting how to breathe as he stares at you. Changing his hair was a success after all, and he loves knowing that you like what he did for you.

“Thanks,” he smiles back, before clearing his throat, and putting the bag down on the counter. “What can I get for you?”

You start telling him your order, but he’s already started punching it in. Luckily, it goes unnoticed by you, especially since he undercharges you for the change in milk. Again, no matter how subtle, he wants you to know that he’s always looking out for you, and will provide for you whenever and wherever he can.

After you pay, you move over to the end counter where you wait for your drink to be made. He takes this opportunity to talk to you, considering it’s just you and him right now, and he doesn’t know when he’ll ever get another opportunity like this again.

“So, how’ve you been?” He asks casually as he starts preparing your drink.

“Not too bad, midterms are kicking my ass, though,” you reply, tucking your phone into your pocket. “I’m definitely way too stressed for anything right now.”

“Tell me about it,” he chuckles. “I feel like we’ve just started and we’re already halfway through the semester.”

“Right?” You voice, incredulously. “I feel like I hardly have time to relax anymore, and with our midterm that’s worth forty percent on Tuesday, I’m kinda freaking out.”

“I feel you,” he nods in agreement, now just waiting for the shot to brew to add to your drink. He has to stop himself from biting his lip. He knows a few ways to help you relax, but he doubts you’d let him try anything. Yet. “I’m sure you’ll do fine though, you’re really smart.”

You laugh slightly, “my intelligence is an illusion that hangs by a thin string attached to late night study session, and fuelled by coffee.”

He laughs at this, pouring the freshly brewed shot into the cup, “I take it that’s why you’re here so late on campus on a Saturday night?”

“Guilty,” you joke, reaching out to grab your now finished drink. “What about you? I didn’t take you for one to be working on a Saturday, let alone in the evening.”

Ever so slowly, he watches your fingers gently brush over the skin of his own, and he swears it’s like a jolt of electricity goes through him. Your touch is addictive, and now that he’s had a taste, he’s not sure if he could ever get enough.

He chuckles, “to be honest I enjoy spending most evenings in rather than going out.”

“I see,” you nod slightly with a small hum.

Sure that may have been a little white lie, but you don’t need to know. Besides, if he’s going to counter that image of him you have because of Jordan, he’ll do anything he has to to make you believe he’s actually good for you like he knows he is.

“Well, don’t wear yourself out,” he shoots you a smile, doing his best to contain the bliss filled look that wants to spread itself across his features at this interaction you’ve have together.

“Same goes for you,” you lift your drink in a mock ‘cheers’ motion. “Don’t overwork yourself.”

“I won’t,” he promises, smiling at the way you swirl your drink slightly to mix it before taking a sip. “You like it?”

“This is amazing,” you hum, “just what I needed.”

“Glad to be of service,” he grins, giving you a small salute with two of his fingers, causing you to giggle again. God, he could never grow tired of that sound. “So, do you have any plans for the evening?”

By now, he’s leaning against the counter, for you have yet to move and he wants to be as close as possible to you for as long as he possibly can, without being obvious of course. Besides, he’s enjoying talking with you, and he doesn’t want you to leave just yet.

“Well, that chair over there,” you motion to a chair in the corner of the café, “is calling my name for the next,” you hum, checking your phone for the time, “forty minutes or so until you guys close, so…”

A small smile rests on his lips as he nods in understanding, “if you need anything, just call me over. I’d be happy to make you another one.”

“Thanks, I appreciate it,” you tell him, smile back on your lips as you move over to the aforementioned chair.

Lucas watches as you place your drink onto the small table that rests in front of the chair, taking off your hoodie before sitting down and pulling out a book to read. He smiles to himself as he moves back over to the forgotten bag of coffee beans to continue where he left off.

Knowing you’re mere feet away from him makes him so unbelievably happy. He has to keep glancing up to check if you’re still there, and not some figment of his imagination. Even his coworkers have noticed a slight shift in his attitude when they both get back onto the floor, noting he looks more awake than before. He certainly seems happier, that’s for sure.

All too soon, it’s closing time, and he’s just finishing up wiping down the counters when his one coworker goes to let you know. Lucas bites his lip, noting that you appear to be dozing off in the chair anyways. His heart races in his chest, and holy fuck, could you get any cuter? He only wishes he could have been the one to walk you out of the café.

Some part of his brain wishes and hopes that by some miracle, you decided to wait for him to finish closing so he can walk with you to the bus stop. If he’s lucky, he could even offer to drive you home, one hand resting teasingly on your thigh while the other grips the steering wheel.

“Oh, it looks like she left her sweater here,” the voice of his coworker pulls him out of his thoughts.

He watches as his coworker quickly pops their head out of the door, seeing if they can spot you in the distance, but it looks like you’ve already left.

“Damn, that sucks,” they say, turning to look at Lucas. “You know her, right? Why don’t you give her back her hoodie the next time you see her in class or something?”

Without waiting for a response, his coworker throws him your hoodie, and fuck, does it ever smell like you. Clutching it to his chest, he nods slowly, the words finally registering in his brain.

His eyes widen slightly at what this means. He knows for a fact that he shouldn’t give you back your hoodie while in class, there’s way too many watchful eyes around. People might get the wrong idea. On the other hand, he has seen you wear this hoodie around a lot, meaning it’s probably important to you, so if he shows up with it, you might think of him as your Prince Charming coming to your rescues. On the other other hand, he now has a piece of you with him, no matter how insignificant it may be. One that he can keep all to himself.

No, he shouldn’t be thinking like this. If he wants to make you see him in a good light, the right thing to do would be give you back your hoodie as soon as possible. Setting his mind, he determines that he’ll give it back to you when he sees you on Tuesday for class. The sooner the better, and hey, maybe Jordan might stop insisting he’s a horrible person if he does this.

Soon enough, he finishes closing up shop with his coworkers for the evening and heads back home. Stepping through his door, he lets out a sigh. After clicking the locks into place, he’s kicking off his shoes and heading straight to his bedroom. He tosses your hoodie on his bed, figuring he’ll put it aside once he’s had a quick shower for the evening.

Once again, he finds himself using the same soap you use. Considering the evening he’s had, he thinks it fitting that he smell like you. He wishes nothing more than for you to be waiting for him in his bedroom in nothing but that hoodie when he comes out of the shower, but he knows that’s a fantasy too far away to even hope for at the moment. Still, his mind cannot help but wander to that vivid image as he dries himself off.

Shaking his head, he slips on some sweats, entering back into his room to see your hoodie exactly where he left it on his bed. He licks his lips, imagining your bare legs peaking out from beneath the hem, spread out on his bed and just begging for him to be between them.

This time, he blinks to clear the vision of you from his mind. Grabbing your hoodie, he tosses it to the side of his room where his desk chair sits, hearing it make contact and seeing it hanging off the edge in the next second. Turning off the lights, he hops into bed.

Turning on his phone, he decides to scroll through instagram to see if there’s been anything important he’s missed. His heart nearly skips a beat when he comes across a newly posted photo of yours, showing off your drink from that evening along with the book you were reading. The caption reads, ‘howdy stranger’ with a little heart attached at the end, and he can’t help but read more into this than you probably intended.

To anyone else, that caption might be referring to the book, of which you may not have read in a while, or even the drink. However, to him, it’s reminiscent of your conversation, and how the two of you might still be considered strangers to some. It’s a flirtatious callback to how you two know each other, but rarely talk. Tonight was that exception, where the two of you actually had a somewhat decent conversation without anyone interrupting or pulling you away from him. The fact that you included the drink he made for you in the photo only confirms that this post was about him, and him alone.

He bites his lip, immediately liking the photo to let you know that he’s seen it; he’s gotten your message and he’s more than willing to let you know that if you only say the word, the two of you wouldn’t have to be strangers for much longer. Briefly, his eyes dart to your sweater, of which he can fairly make out the outline of hanging off of his chair where he tossed it.

Lucas decides to scroll through the rest of your instagram, just lurking on your page so he can see you in every and any photo you have of yourself. He makes the executive decision to turn on your post notifications in that moment, not wanting to miss any more of your posts, especially when they’re about him.

He freezes. Maybe he should do this for all of your social media accounts he follows. The last thing he wants to do is miss a post that could be an indicator of your true feelings towards him. What if all this time you’ve been in love with him, too, and your only way of communicating this to him is through your posts?

Grabbing his one pillow, he shifts so that it’s now clutched in his arms, him squeezing it as a rush travels through his body. What if that’s it? Maybe, there’s a small chance that you feel the same, and all of his past things never meant anything to you, and you just act the way you do cause Jordan is always with you, watching your every move around him. Of course, you’d want him, how could you not?

Smiling to himself at this new revelation, his eyes flick over to your hoodie once more. He can practically hear it calling his name, for him to hold as if it were your own body. Without waiting another moment, he gets up, snatching the item of clothing from his chair before laying back down, arms now wrapped securely around the hoodie instead of his pillow.

Burying his nose into the fabric, he takes a deep breath. Fuck, it smells so good. You smell so good, that his eyes nearly roll into the back of his head from this alone. The added scent from the soap he’s used just makes this all the more intense, and he really feels like you could be there with him.

Except, something’s still missing. Even as he continues to cradle your hoodie in his arms, it doesn’t seem quite right. That is, until his cheeks are flaring at the solution he comes up with.

Without thinking too much of it, or before he can change his mind, he’s sitting up quickly, and grabbing his previously discarded pillow. Moving the hoodie slightly, he puts it on the pillow, having it act as your torso for the time being. There, at least now there’s something more substantial to hold onto.

A smile tugs at his features as he clutches the pillow, which is now wearing your hoodie, to his chest. He can feel his naked torso burning wherever his skin makes contact with the fabric, imagining it’s really your touch there. He’s even gone so far as to toss the one sleeve over his side to act as your arm, as if you were really there holding him just as he is holding you.

Burying his face into the side of the shoulder, he takes another deep breath, grip tightening around your ‘torso’ as he lets out a low groan. His fingers fist the back of your hoodie, whole body curling around the pillow as he clings to it for dear life. Why can’t you just be here with him, right here, right now?

Would you run your fingers through his hair just like how he so badly wants to do to you? Would you teasingly litter kisses along his bare chest and neck, only to pull away and giggle at the reactions he gives you? Would you pull him closer as he cups your face and kisses you with all the passion he can muster, letting you know how much he loves and cherishes you? He bets his name would sound even sweeter than he could ever imagine falling from your lips, especially as he trails kisses down your own torso, leaving marks all the way so everyone can know that you’re his.

He bites his lip as he feels his cock throb in his pants, pure desire for you coursing through his veins as he lets his imagination run wild, and now that he has your sweater to hold onto, it’s like you’re really there with him.

Before he knows it, he finds himself grinding into the pillow, imagining it’s you, and that you’re grinding right back, desperate for his touch. Fuck, the way you would mewl with his hands all over your body, head thrown back as he gives you uninterrupted pleasure in every way he knows how.

Thoughts continue running through his head as he brings his one hand down to stroke himself over his sweats. Are you actually more on the quiet side? Are you more shy when you’re in bed? Would he be able to fluster you like he knows you could fluster him? Would you be loud for him if he asked?

A small huff of air escapes him as he turns on his back, finally sticking his hand down his pants to grasp his firm cock, stroking lightly all the while picturing it’s you doing this to him. No matter, he’d make you loud for him. He’d make sure you’ll scream from the pleasure he’s giving you. After all, his job wouldn’t be done until the only thing you remember is his name.

Licking his lips, he gently teases the head of his cock, spreading his precome with his thumb as his hand continues to stroke the rest of him, alternating his grip all the while. Throwing his head back, he lets out a low moan, followed by a curse. Your name sounds like heaven falling from his lips, and he only wishes you were around to hear just how good the mere thought of you is making him feel.

Closing his eyes, he lets images of you sucking him off fill his head. The way your lips would wrap around his cock, taking all of him into your mouth as he encourages you and holds your hair in his hand, ever so subtly guiding your movements. Fuck, the way you would hum around him, wanting to make him feel as good as he makes you feel.

He builds himself up slowly, wanting to take his time tonight and just live in his fantasies. Being able to hold your sweater in his hands is just the icing on top, letting him feel like it’s actually you there with him. After edging himself three times, he decides it’s finally time for him to come, and he knows exactly how he wants to do so.

Kicking off his pants, he shifts his body so that his pillow with your sweater on it is beneath his chest. He licks his lips, inhaling deeply with his eyes closed, allowing your image and your scent to fill his mind. One arm is wrapped around the torso of the sweater while he begins to fuck his opposite hand, starting slowly, just like how he would with you once he’s finally inside you.

For your first time together, he’d take it slow, making love to your gorgeous body all night long. He wants you to know that you’re more than just a fuck, and that he would never even think about doing something as intimate as this with another. Only you get this type of intimacy. Only you get the whispers of ‘I love you’ and the breathless moans of your name from his lips. Only you get all of him: mind, body, and soul.

Holding the pillow tighter, he begins to pick up his pace, rolling his hips into his hand as he pictures your legs wrapped around his waist. Every second that passes brings him closer to the edge, and he can feel his hips stuttering as his orgasm approaches.

Sitting back on his knees, he releases the pillow, stroking himself intensely all the while. With a low moan, he’s coming, your name falling from his lips like a mantra as he releases all over your sweater, claiming it as his own, just as he so badly wants to claim you.

For a whole minute, he just kneels there, eyes closed and head thrown back in ecstasy. He bites his lip, bringing his free hand up to brush his hair out of his face. Opening his eyes, he looks down to see the mess he’s made of your sweater.

Cursing lowly to himself, his eyes go wide. Well, now there’s no way he’s going to give you back your sweater with it looking like this. He’ll have to wash it before giving it back, if he even decides to do that. Now that he knows what he can do with it, it’s like having his very own body pillow of you, and he doesn’t want to give that up so easily.

Moving off his bed, he cleans up quickly before sliding on a fresh pair of sweats. Once he’s finished, he slides back into bed, scrolling through his phone with his arm around the sweater, the pillow tucked to his chest. He has to find a way to be with you soon, and maybe next time, he’ll make this dream of his a reality.

That night, he falls asleep with a smile on his face, head filled with images of you and what he dreams your future relationship to be like once you’re together. He cannot wait for the day he can finally call you his in front of the whole world, and hopefully it’s soon; he just wants you so badly.

Midterms come and go in the blink of an eye, and before anyone knows it, the professor is assigning the final project. Lucas lets out a small sigh as the prof drawls on about the details during class, gaze zoned in on you once more until a certain phrase catches his ear.

“You’ll be working in partners-“ a chatter breaks out around the lecture hall before the prof grabs everyone’s attention once more. “As I was saying, you’ll be working in partners for the final assignment, but no you will not be working with a partner you choose. You will be receiving an email by the end of the day with your partner’s details for the upcoming project. I expect everyone to work diligently and thoroughly. Class dismissed.”

With that there’s an explosion of chatter and movement throughout as people begin to gather their things to leave the room. Lucas’ heart pounds in his chest the whole while, and he knows he won’t be so lucky as to get you, but he can only hope that’s the case. He just hopes that whoever he gets stuck with isn’t one of his past flings. That would be awkward as hell.

Again, he sticks close by you as you exit the hall with Jordan, discussing the possibilities of the project. He busies himself with checking his phone to make himself look occupied and not like he’s eavesdropping on your conversation.

“Who do you hope you get to work with?” Jordan asks you.

“I’m not sure, I know I probably won’t be as lucky as to get to work with you, but I hope there’s still a chance!” You reply, lip tugging upwards. “If not, the only other person I really know in the class is Lucas, so I guess he wouldn’t be so bad.”

His heart nearly stops when he hears you say those words. Maybe there’s a possibility that you really want to work with him, too.

“Ew, why do you want to work with that fuckwad?” Jordan scrunches their face in disgust.

“He doesn’t seem so bad,” you frown slightly. “Besides, I think he does well in this class, whenever I see him he’s always intently looking at his computer, taking notes.”

You’ve looked for him while in class before? His heart skips a beat. How has he never noticed?

“(Y/n), how many times have I told you to stay away from him? He’s bad news,” Jordan sighs.

“I know, Jor, I know,” you echo their sigh. “I just, don’t see what you mean. He’s only ever been nothing but decent to me.”

“Have you ever thought that there was a reason for that?” They quirk a brow.

Yeah, he’s in love with you, and he’d shout it from the rooftops if he ever got the opportunity.

“Well, regardless, he hasn’t given me a reason to be suspicious of him,” you retort.

“(Y/n), he literally has, or well, had, a Hitlist for this school. Almost every girl, and some guys have slept with him,” they tell you.

“Who he sleeps with, or has slept with is none of my business,” you glance at them out of the corner of your eyes. “I don’t care, and neither should you.”

“Listen, I really don’t care for him, or how many people he sleeps with,” they begin, “it’s the way he goes about it and treats them afterwards that has me peeved.”

“Again, that’s his business,” you say, and in the next moment a teasing smirk crosses your features. “Besides, sounds to me that someone is a bit jealous that they’re not one of his ‘hits’ as you’ve so put it.”

At this, they splutter, “what! That’s insane, I do not even like him!”

“Well, rumour has it that he likes you,” you continue with your teasing, wiggling your eyebrows suggestively at them.

“Rumours are just rumours,” they counter with a grumble, and you hum.

“Fair enough-“

That’s all he can hear until the two of you are too far away from him to comprehend what you’re saying. Letting out the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding, he leans against the wall. The biggest thing he takes away from this conversation is that you would, in fact, enjoy being his partner for this project, and he’ll make that happen no matter what. It’s a good thing your professor has office hours immediately after class, and it’s a good thing that Lucas just so happens to be his favourite student in that class.

Four hours later and he’s pacing in his room, just waiting for his phone to ping with the email notification. It’s already ten minutes passed when the professor told him that he’d have all the emails sent out by in order to contact the project members. What if the prof went back on his word?

A ping is what pulls Lucas out of his thoughts, him literally jumping onto his bed to grab his phone as he sees the email notification pop up with the subject discussing the partners for the project. His heart pounds as he opens the email, seeing that the prof came through and indeed put the two of you together like he asked. Who knew pleading his case to really support his ‘friend’ would have worked as well as it did.

All he’s gotten is your school email address, and he wants to send you an email to discuss the project right away, but he also doesn’t want to seem too eager. Should he wait for you to respond first? Maybe he should just take the initiative and send you his number so you two can start talking right away. However, before he can even open up a new draft, his inbox pings once more with a new email.

From: (Y/n)

Subject: Project

Hey Lucas!

I’m so glad to be partnered with you, it’s nice to be able to work with someone I know. Anyways, here’s my number, text me anytime and we can discuss the project in detail, I’m more active through text than email. I look forward to working with you!

(Xxx)-xxx-xxxx

(Y/n) :)

His head is reeling, and he has to read over your email several times to make sure that it’s real. You’re glad to be his partner. He can’t help his heart from racing the way it does as he saves your contact information, opening a new message thread and preparing to text you.

Staring at the blinking cursor in the message bar, he freezes. What should he say? Probably something simple, he doesn’t want to make himself sound too eager. Plus, he wants you to think he’s cool, but also smart, but also available, but not desperate. God, what should he say?

After contemplating for a good five minutes, he settles on, “Hey (Y/n), it’s Lucas. I look forward to working with you, too :)”.

Surprisingly, you get back to him pretty quickly, and the two of you start talking about the project and some ideas you’ve had so far. Before you know it, the two of you are having a pretty decent conversation about your likes and dislikes, things along those lines.

Lucas could not be happier than he is in this moment. He’s even brought your sweater back out for this occasion, holding it close to his chest as he reads over your entire conversation. You went to sleep a little while ago since it did end up getting quite late, but he can’t believe this has happened. Everything is falling into place, and soon, he’ll be able to make his move.

The next day, he has the closing shift at work with one of his co-workers that he closed with on Saturday. Again, it’s about an hour before close, and quiet, so he sets to cleaning the machines.

“Did you manage to give your friend back her sweater?” The question catches him off guard, causing him to freeze slightly before continuing to wipe down the machines. Maybe this question is a blessing in disguise, for he can put his plan that he’s been thinking about into motion finally.

“No, actually,” he turns to meet his co-worker’s eyes. “I ran into her friend Jordan and gave it to them to give to her.”

“Ah, I see,” they nod, going over to grab more cups from the backroom. Once they come back out, they turn to Lucas once more, “do you mind taking out the trash?”

“Sure,” he nods. He’s got nothing better to do anyways.

It takes him about ten minutes to run the garbage, and an extra five to dismiss an old fling of his who had spotted him walking back to the café. By the time he gets back, he’s slightly tense from the whole ordeal, and he can’t wait to get home so he can ask you about your day. He’s made it his goal to at least message you one small thing per day that he thinks will make you smile. He wants to show you that he cares, and that he’ll always be there for you, whenever you need him.

“Oh, hey, you just missed your friend,” his co-worker tells him once he gets back behind the counter. “She came by asking about her sweater and also asked about you. I told her you gave it to that other friend of hers.”

“Oh,” his eyes widen ever so slightly, nodding in understanding.

Besides being upset at the fact that he missed you stopping by, the fact that you asked about him sets his heart soaring. This is good! This is indeed very good for him. This means you’re thinking about him, even when he’s not around, something he could have only hoped for.

That night, he sends you a text when he gets home, heart beating nervously as he waits for your response. Once he hears that familiar ping, he’s smiling to himself, happy at how quickly you respond to him. You don’t keep him waiting long, just as he would never intentionally do so to you.

Lucas: Hey, heard I just missed you at the café this evening.

You: Yeah! I just wanted to pop in and say hi, and also ask about my sweater. I seemed to have misplaced it, and when I went to check the lost and found on campus they said they hadn’t had anyone drop it off so I’ve been retracing my steps lol

Lucas: Damn, now I’m really sorry I missed you, I could have told you that I gave it to Jordan for safe keeping

You: Yeah, that’s what your coworker told me, but they haven’t given it back to me yet. Sucks cause it’s my favourite sweater

Lucas: Damn, yeah, that does suck. Hopefully they return it soon

He looks over to the hoodie resting on his bed, still wrapped around his pillow. He really should wash it soon, he got another stain on it recently.

His eyes widen as he thinks up a small safety measure just incase you’re over one day and find your sweater. Good thing it’s oversized.

Lucas: I have one that’s pretty similar, so if you aren’t able to get yours back you can always borrow mine lol

You: Lmaoo thanks, I’ll keep that in mind

Letting out a sigh, he shakes his head. He doesn’t particularly like the fact that he’s technically breaking your trust right now, and he has no clue what you’d do if you ever found out he lied to you, but he’s doing what he has to to ensure Jordan’s out of your life and that they can no longer keep you and him apart.

About two weeks pass by and Lucas notices that there seems to be a wedge driven between Jordan and you. The two of you no longer joke around as much as before when you’re together, and it’s as if there’s a sort of tension in the air whenever you’re around one another. For this, he couldn’t be more glad, his plan is working, though he’s surprised at how well it is. There must have been some other underlying factors causing this rift between the two of you other than the sweater incident, as you’ve now decided to call it.

On the other hand, you and Lucas have been getting even closer to one another. At least, over text messages. You do come to visit him every now and then during his night shifts, but it’s usually around closing time after you’ve finished working in the library. Even so, he’s grateful for every moment he gets to spend with you.

The due date to your assignment is getting closer every day, and the two of you have decided to finish it at his apartment this Saturday, which just so happens to be tomorrow evening. That means there’s less than a day left in the week before he’ll be able to make his final move, and make you his, once and for all.

He’s just at work refilling the coffee beans when he hears the bell chime above the door. Once again, he’s the only one on the floor, and he’s glad for it, for you walk in and manage to take his breath away like you always do. However, instead of wearing your usual calm expression, you seem more tense, and slightly frustrated.

“Hey,” he greets, putting the bag of coffee beans down so he can start your order, “the usual, I presume?”

“Yeah, please,” your reply is short as you go to reach for your wallet.

“Don’t worry about it, it’s on the house,” he says. “You look like you could use a pick-me-up.”

“Thanks,” comes your blunt response, forcing a smile that pains his heart.

“Is everything okay? I don’t mean to pry…” he trails off as he starts making your drink.

Anyone would be able to tell that you’re not your usual self and that something is bothering you. He only wants you to know that he’s here for you, no matter what. He will always listen to whatever you have to say and do his best to support you in whatever way he can.

You let out a sigh, chewing on your bottom lip slightly, nervously. Lucas can tell that you’re contemplating on whether or not you should tell him what’s bothering you. Luckily for him, it looks like you trust him enough now to share your worries with him, a fact that warms his heart.

“It’s just Jordan,” you say, causing him to quirks a brow at you in response, waiting for you to continue. “They keep telling me that they don’t have my sweater and that you never gave it to them. This isn’t the first time they’ve kept something of mine and not given it back after saying they never had it in the first place.”

You pause momentarily, and he has to stop the surprised look that wants to spread across his features from breaking out onto his face. This plan of his is working out even better than he could have ever imagined. So, he decides it’s time to put his high school drama classes to use.

“That’s strange, considering I did give it to them,” he frowns. “Though, now that I think about it, they were acting kind of strange when I gave it to them.”

“What do you mean?” You question, brow furrowed as you watch his hands as they pour the shot into your drink.

“Well, they kind of snatched the hoodie from my hands and flung it over their arm like it was bothering them. It almost seemed like they were annoyed that I asked them to do this. Though I mean, I’ve heard they don’t like me very much,” he chuckles slightly, handing you your now finished drink, fingers brushing ever so slightly. “Though I found it strange that they wanted to talk with me in private.”

“They did?” You ask. “That is strange.”

“Yeah,” he nods subtly.

“What did they want to talk about, if you don’t mind me asking?” There’s curiosity in your eyes, but also, suspicion. Towards him or Jordan, he cannot be too sure, but he hopes he’ll be in the clear after this.

“Uh, well, I was quite shocked but they confronted me about supposedly,” he adds air quotes to his next words for emphasis, “playing with their feelings and leading them on.”

“What?” Your jaw drops.

“I swear, I was just as surprised as you are,” he goes on to say. “They told me that my little ‘game’ I was playing with them wasn’t funny any more and that I should just ‘be honest’ with my feelings for them and stop trying to make them ‘jealous’.”

“That’s ridiculous, oh my god,” you shake your head. “I don’t want to believe they would do something like that, let alone say it. From what I know, and - no offence - Jordan hates your guts.”

“That’s what I thought, too!” He replies, almost incredulously. “But I also know they like spreading rumours about people.”

You scoff, “you could say that again.”

“I mean, I don’t mean to stir anything even more, but wasn’t there also a rumour going around that I was supposedly trying to get with them or something?” Lucas leans one hand on the counter, the other resting at his side.

“Yeah, there was,” you nod. “It was cause of that coffee you brought me that one day in class, people thought it was for them cause-“ you pause, looking slightly embarrassed, “cause they were the one who drank it.”

“Oh,” he feigns a slight pout at learning this. “Did they- did they think I forgot to use lactose free milk or something?”

“Yeah, actually,” you meet his gaze, suspicion lingering in your eyes.

“I did, in case you’re wondering, just to be on the safe side,” he adds. “I knew one of them was and I didn’t want to take a chance if the one who needed it was you. Now I know I made the right call.”

“That’s actually really considerate of you,” you flash him a small smile before shaking your head. “Anyways, that’s not the point.”

“Exactly,” he agrees. “What if they were the one who started this rumour and used that as the catalyst.”

“They were pretty adamant about me not drinking it,” you recall, one hand coming to rest on your chin in thought, eyes widening as you realize something. “Holy fuck, maybe that’s why they’ve been-“ you inhale sharply, effectively cutting yourself off, “sorry to run off like this, but I’ve got to go. Thanks again for the drink, I’ll see you tomorrow!”

Without another word, you storm out of the café, a fire now burning behind your eyes. Lucas is left there, stunned, heart racing as he can’t believe that this has actually worked. His plan is almost complete, and depending on how your talk goes with Jordan, of which he’s assuming is going to happen soon based on how you cut yourself off and stormed out of here, his plan might be complete by tomorrow evening.

A large smile breaks out across his face as he finishes wiping down all of the tables for the evening, his coworker finally coming out of the back to help him close the café. His whole body warms at the fact that tomorrow, he’ll finally be able to have you in his apartment, alone. Not to mention the fact that Jordan might finally be out of your life for good, eliminating that obstacle to your relationship before it can continue to sabotage him further than they already have. All he has to do now, is wait.

The whole afternoon the next day is spent cleaning his apartment and making sure it’s spotless for you. He makes sure he has food, drinks, anything you could possibly want for when you come over. Nothing is too much when it comes to you, and he wants to make sure he has everything he may need to make sure you’re happy and comfortable with him. This is his chance to impress you, and destroy any last remnants of him being a fuckboy from your mind. He’ll treat you right, forever and always.

Sure enough, seven o’clock rolls around and he hears a faint knock on his door. His heart nearly skips a beat in his chest, palms sweaty, as he walks over to open the door for you.

Greeting you with a small smile, he notices you seem extremely tense. As soon as you enter his apartment, you’re kicking off your shoes with a sigh as he shuts his door once more.

“Hey, let’s finish this project, yeah?” You turn to him, and he can tell that you’re drained, both physically and emotionally.

“Sure,” he nods, motioning to his living room for you to lead the way. “Uh, can I get you anything?”

“Water, please,” your response is short as you move to sit on the couch, pulling out your laptop to work on the project.

He walks back into the room a minute later with two glasses of water to see you just sitting there on his couch staring blankly at your computer screen. Placing the glass on the table in front of you, he gently takes a seat beside you, ”is everything alright?”

“Honestly?” You sigh once more, shutting your laptop and turning to look at him. “No.”

“What’s wrong?” He asks, brow furrowed in concern.

“Remember our conversation yesterday?” He nods, waiting for you to continue. “Well, I decided to confront Jordan about everything, cause everything was just a little too convenient for them, if you know what I’m saying.” Again, he nods. “We ended up getting into a huge fight, and now we’re not talking to each other. I just can’t believe they would lie to me like this.”

“What happened?” Escapes him before he can stop himself, wanting to know exactly what they told you incase he needs to cover his own ass. He’s gotten this far, and he can see the light at the end of the tunnel, there’s no way he’s slipping up now.

“Well, I told them everything we talked about, and they basically called me stupid for believing you and not them, and then said that they can’t believe I think that they stole my sweater, or that they started that rumour,” you tell him, and he listens intently to every word you have to say, reacting appropriately each time. “They kept bashing you, and honestly, that made me really upset cause you’ve been nothing but kind to me. They just keep lying, and it only looks bad on their end cause they can’t explain themselves to me properly, which I told them, then they called me stupid again, and said that I’m too gullible for my own good. Basically, they were treating me like a kid, and I couldn’t take it anymore. Like fuck, they always have something to say about everything I do, and they’re so fucking controlling, I just blew up. Then they said some things and it just spiralled out of control. I don’t need that negativity in my life.”

His eyes are wide in shock. His plan worked. It actually worked!

“I’m so sorry that this has happened to you, and that someone whom you thought was your friend would treat you like that,” he places a gentle hand on your knee for comfort and you glance down at it before looking up at him, concern written all over his features. “You don’t deserve that, and I apologize if I was the one who got you into this mess. I feel like if I wasn’t involved things wouldn’t have ended like this. I should have just given the sweater back to you.”

“No, no, it’s not your fault,” you shake your head, rubbing at your eyes lightly to clear your vision. “Something like this was bound to happen sooner or later. I’m just sorry you had to get involved like this.” You let out a frustrated grunt. “I feel like there’s just too much going on right now, and now we have to work on that fucking project cause it’s due at midnight.”

“Well, I have some news that may cheer you up,” he squeezes your knee slightly, causing you to look at his face once more in question. “I already finished our project last night. Well, it was like, three in the morning, but I figured you could use a relaxing evening given the conversation we had yesterday”

“You did?” You look at him with eyes shining with gratitude and wonder, and fuck does he ever just want to lean in and kiss you.

“I did,” he confirms with a small smile.

“Lucas, I can’t thank you enough,” he can visibly see you relax, as if a weight has been lifted off of your shoulders just from this one act alone.

“I can order us a pizza or something and we can just relax tonight and watch movies if you want,” he’s hoping you say yes and don’t just decide to leave after learning you don’t need to finish your assignment.

“Sounds good to me,” you agree. “I could use some relaxation time, if you know what I mean.”

The wink you send him has his body tensing slightly, heart skipping a beat in his chest. Are you hinting at something else? Something more? Whatever it is, he’ll be happy to oblige.

“Oh, I hear you,” he smirks.

“Anyways, what movie would you like to watch?” You ask, putting your laptop down and leaning further into the couch, getting comfortable.

You spend the next twenty minutes deciding on what movie to watch, the two of you laughing and cracking jokes the whole time. He’s noticed you’ve relaxed even more now the more time that passed, and for that, he couldn’t be more grateful. If he allows himself to indulge in his fantasies, he envisions this as your first date night of many.

By the time the second movie starts, he’s ordered the both of you a pizza, of which now rests on the table in front of you. About halfway through the movie, he notices you shiver slightly.

“You okay?”

“Yeah,” you mumble, “just a bit cold.”

Fuck, the only blanket he has is on his bed and it’s the one thing he didn’t wash today.

“You can borrow one of my sweaters if you’d like,” he offers, eyes flashing with something you don’t quite catch.

“Damn, at least ask me on a date first before letting me borrow your clothes,” you joke, giggling as you move to stand up.

Butterflies erupt in his stomach, a feeling he’s only rarely felt before, but a feeling he wants to feel again, with you.

“Fine then,” he notices you tense slightly at his words as he leans forwards slightly to stare at you intently, “would you like to go out with me sometime?”

You chuckle nervously, your own heart skipping a beat in your chest. You won’t deny, you’ve always thought Lucas was attractive, you just never thought you were his type. As far as you know, he doesn’t ask anyone out, so why you? Why now?

“I was kidding,” you try and brush his question off, not thinking he’s being serious.

“I’m not,” comes his immediate reply, and you notice how intently he’s staring at you, making your breath hitch in your throat.

Fuck it, “sure, why not?”

The smile you send him sends him over the moon. His plan actually worked! He nearly has to pinch himself, for this is like a dream come true, and soon, you’ll be all his, and his alone.

“So, uh, which room is it?” Your question has a million thoughts running through his head, causing him to nearly lose his composure until he realizes you’re just asking where you can find his sweaters.

“Down the hall on the right, in the closet,” he replies, willing his heart rate to calm down. “Take your pick.”

“Sweet, thanks,” you smile, heading off in the direction he’s told you.

Once you’ve arrived at his room, you slowly open the door, noting how clean and tidy his room is. The faint scent of jasmine lingers in the air as you walk towards his closet, opening the door and looking over the array of hoodies he has. As you’re riffling through them, a familiar looking one catches your eye. Immediately, you’re tearing it off the hanger, confusion written all over your face.

In your hands, you hold your missing sweater, or at least, you think it’s your hoodie. Same size, shape, make, everything. You’re about to question it further when you remember Lucas telling you that he had a similar hoodie to the one you lost. This must be the one he’s talking about.

Immediately, your shoulders relax, breathing out a sigh of relief. There’s no way he would have lied to you about everything, now, would he? You trust him enough not to linger on these thoughts for too long, instead, slipping the hoodie over your body and smiling at the familiar warmth it brings you. You only wish you could get your own back soon.

Walking back into the living room, Lucas swears he stops breathing as soon as he sees you. Luckily for him, you miss the brief panic that flashes through his eyes.

“You know, when you said you had a similar hoodie, I didn’t think you meant you had the exact same one,” you joke, sitting back down beside him on the couch. “How come I’ve never seen you wear it.”

He laughs, “I only use it for special occasions.”

“I see,” you nod.

“It looks good on you,” he says, and he’s thanking every star he decided to wash it today.

“Thanks,” you giggle, and just like every time, it’s like music to his ears.

A silence settles back over the two of you as you continue to watch the second movie. He’s already made a promise to himself not to let you leave tonight; he finally has you, and he’s not letting you go so easily. However, with the way that your head lulls onto his shoulder near the end of the movie, he doesn’t think he’ll need to work too hard to make you stay.

He looks down at your sleeping form, hand coming up to carefully stroke the side of your cheek. Shifting slightly so that you’ll be more comfortable, he wraps an arm around you, pulling you even closer into him and hearing you hum in content. This time, it’s your turn to shift, and he freezes, thinking he’s woken you up. Instead, you bury your head deeper into his side, one hand coming to rest on his chest while your one leg tangles with his own, your thigh dangerously close to his hips.

Exhaling shakily, he wills himself to calm down, not wanting to ruin this moment, and revelling in it while it lasts. All he knows, is that he’s in for one long night.

#yandere kpop #yandere au #yandere nct #yandere wayv #yandere lucas #yandere yukhei #yandere #yandere nct u #nct scenario #nct u scenario #wayv scenario #super m scenario #yandere super m #Lucas scenario #kpop #Kpop au #kpop scenario #au

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eunoiaflow3r · 3 years

Text

i hate u, i love u // spencer reid x fem!reader

spencer reid x reader

aaron hotchner x reader

part one - part two

a/n: did i damn near put this entire song in this fic? yes, yes i did i’m so sorry....highly unedited.

how was your guys’ holiday?

warning(s): language. angst. fluff....

word count: 2.6k

request(ed): yes.

summary: old things try to get fixed, while new feelings and places...arise and get mixed.

(wtf am i dr. seuss now??)

——————————————&———————————

feeling used, but i’m still missing you. and i can’t see the end of this, just wanna feel your kiss, against my lips

and now all this time, is passing by.... but i can’t seem to tell you why. it hurts me every time i see you realize how much i need you...

Seeing Spencer and actually letting all of that out did a number on you. You apologized to Aaron countless times and he said it was okay countless times but you still felt so bad. He didn’t deserve that. He didn’t deserve your drama, and not to mention how embarrassing it’s been. You felt like you ruined his whole night. It was supposed to be fun and yet you didn’t have any. He said he did but you know Hotch didn’t.

You’d have to make it up to him somehow soon but you didn’t know how. How are you supposed to fix this? Any of this??

It feels like you’re being sucked into the eye of a tornado little by little and you just can’t get out. It feels like everyone else is safe on the ground feet planted and they’re all just staring at you and laughing. Staring and not helping.

Your chest hurt. You hated feeling like this. So helpless...and stuck. You were stuck and not ready to fix it...well...part of it. You could still fix one thing. You didn’t have to be stuck here. Here in this small apartment with no room for anything let alone breathe. You needed space. You needed change. You needed control. Everything is spinning in circles and there’s nothing you can do about it. You can’t stop it.

So why not do something that could help you? That you’ve been meaning to do but never had the time for?

Apartment searching. Well...bigger apartment searching.

Where you were staying now was a studio apartment. You loved the open concept except for how small it was. You just need room.

Before...

“I like it here. It’s so small and cute.”

You could tell cute was a foreign word to Spencer when it came to describing a building. But he was trying. You thought he was cute.

“Thanks Spencer but I’m thinking something different. Maybe another bedroom for a roommate...or just a bigger one for y’know...another person.”

You never really brought up the idea of moving in together before. Sure, it’d be easier...his job was nearby, and there was a bus stop at the end of the street, and there was you....so his reaction kind of put you...off.

“Roommate sounds good. One of your friends maybe? Although I wouldn’t want her to y’know...interrupt us.” He had that cute seductive tone to his voice but he wasn’t sounding very cute and seductive.

You weren’t going to argue. “Yeah...a roommate. Who do you think I should ask?” you paused. “Sara or Malia?”

Spencer was quiet for a moment, like he was thinking. “Malia maybe?”

You didn’t have a friend named Malia.

And that’s what hurt the most you think. The fact that you still thought about him 24/7 even though what you had with him wasn’t perfect. You thought it was before..you thought he was before..but now you’re realizing nothing about it was perfect but at least it was something. Now you have nothing.

It was only the afternoon so you decided to look for some places. You found 3 places suitable for what you were looking for. All 3 were good sizes, good prices, and a good amount away from your job and college. You felt almost lucky. This felt almost too easy.

Until you saw the first two places in person. They were okay, but not really what you were looking for.

The last place though...the place was great, the location was great, the neighborhood was great, hell even the yard. Hell, you’d have no use for it, you didn’t have a kid but it was still a nice looking yard. You could tell that someone in the apartment, hopefully your new neighbor, took great care of the gardens.

You looked around at the surrounding mix of apartments and houses (mostly houses) and saw 2 little kids playing in the house 2 houses over. One of them looked like Jack. It couldn’t be, right? Hotch’s house wasn’t over here.

Nevertheless you watched for a few seconds and it was Jack. You decided to go over and say hi.

Jack stopped playing and immediately ran towards you.

“Y/N!!” He grinned. You got down to his level and hugged him back just as enthusiastically.

“Hey Jackie! Whatcha doin?” He only let you call him that. Only you.

“Sleepover. This is Sam. It’s almost time for Ana to drop me off at home though.”

You said hi to Sam and asked if Ana was his mom. She was and as soon as you told Sam your name, Ana came out of the house and waved you over.

“Hey, I’m Y/N. Friend of Jack’s and Hotch.”

She smiled. And shook your hand.

“I’m Ana. I’ve heard about you! Jack talks about you quite a lot.”

You and Ana talked for a while. She seemed like a really amazing person. If you end up getting the place you could see you and her becoming great friends, and since she seemed really busy you offered to take Jack home. She protested but you insisted. It wasn’t like you were doing much anyway. The landlord had already left and you were just going to go home anyway.

On the way to Hotch’s you bought Jack his favorite ice cream. You couldn’t help it.

The whole car ride Jack’s conversation thankfully distracted you but when you got to his house you couldn’t help but remember that night and how embarrassed you felt.

Seeing Hotch only made it worse. Especially since he wasn’t wearing his work clothes- just a shirt and sweatpants, and you couldn’t help but look because he looked incredibly.....good. He looked so great and you were so mad at yourself for how that night ended with him. You were supposed to be having fun and neither of you did.

He hugged you when you got to the door anyway. You explained to him what happened- even the apartment searching while he invited you in for coffee.

A whole year with Spence and he never invited you in. Ever.

Do you miss me like I miss you? Fucked around and got attached to you Friends can break your heart too And I’m always tired but never of you

If I pulled a you on you, you wouldn’t like that shit I put this reel out, but you wouldn’t bite that shit I type a text but then I never mind that shit I got these feelings but you never mind that shit

“Mom, please, I’m fine. Nothing’s wrong.”

Your mom gave you a look over her mug that said, ‘Do I look like I’m dumb?’ And she wasn’t. Perhaps you weren’t any good at hiding your feelings. Could everyone tell?

You were doing better now.

It’s been a month? Maybe two.

Either way it’s been a while and you weren’t as hurt as you were before. Some nights you woke up heart aching, tears falling, but you aren’t as bad as you were those first few weeks.

Truth is, you missed Spencer. You spent those weeks blaming yourself and wondering why you why you?

But you accepted that you weren’t ready for that answer. A part of you had forgiven Spencer. A part.

You were still heartbroken. You were still angry and hurt. But you’ve been trying to move on. In fact, you’d be moving entirely. Yesterday you finished all the paperwork with your new landlord. You were going to finish packing after visiting your mom.

“Momma I’m fine there’s just a lot going on right now.”

She wouldn’t accept that answer. She persisted you told her what was wrong. So you did. You told her about Spencer...and about Hotch...

Aaron.

You had been spending some weekends with him. Some were alone, just the two of you, and other times it was the three of you. Him, Jack, and you. Whenever you thought about Hotch you had the feeling in your stomach you got whenever you heard from Spencer.

But you still have that feeling for Spencer.

Things were so confusing right now - you weren’t sure if you wanted to move on from Spencer. You didn’t want to rush in with Aaron either though. That’d hurt the both of you.

Last weekend...

“Y/N you cannot tell me you think New Girl is better than Friends.”

Aaron was in a gray shirt and sweatpants while you were in relatively the same. You both sat together on his couch each a cup of coffee in your hands. You had promised you’d help him shop with Jack for new clothes and you had just agreed to stay the night since it had gotten so late.

“Oh a hundred percent. New Girl is way better.”

Hotch laughed.

“Friends is a classic. There wouldn’t be a New Girl without Friends.”

“There wouldn’t be a Friends without Living Single Aaron.”

He rolled his eyes but conceded. “True but still. Friends is better.”

You hadn’t been that happy in a while. You were breathing...you were living. Out in the open. Unbidden.

You ever wonder what we could have been? You said you wouldn’t and you fucking did Lie to me, lie with me, get your fucking fix Now all my drinks and all my feelings are fucking mixed

Always missing people that I shouldn’t be missing Sometimes you gotta burn some bridges just to create some distance I know that I control my thoughts and I should stop reminiscing But I learned from my dad that it’s good to have feelings

There was a bottle of liquor in your hand

You would have gone to the bar but you were too sad for it. You didn’t have the will.

Earlier today you decided that you should get a muffin from the coffee shop and see how Em was doing. Right when you got to the door, who was in the window caught your eye.

Spencer.

Spencer and JJ.

Laughing, and eating, and kissing...

In the open. Out in public.

Were you just not good enough? Was that it? Could you not understand him because you didn’t work in the BAU? Was what you had all one sided?

Unanswered questions and half a bottle later you were passed out on your couch crying.

You thought you were over it for sure this time. But it still fucking hurts. Is keeping your heart open waiting for him even worth it?

The next morning you took a hot shower. The hottest shower you could handle. You were hungover, and you felt like shit but you still had to pack the rest of your things to move. You still had to move.

Your speakers were on the highest level and your music was so loud you didn’t hear the door knock. You only screamed when you felt someone behind you.

It was Aaron.

“Jesus christ!!” You went to turn down the music.

“You could have killed me!”

“Yes I very well could have!” His arms were crossed. He was upset but still in a playful mood. You could tell. “I could have been a serial killer, you have to lock your doors!”

You rolled your eyes. “Okay, okay, I’ll lock my doors next time.”

He nodded approval as you went to the refrigerator to get him a bottle of water.

“What’s going on?”

“Oh I didn’t tell you?” How had that slipped your mind?

He shook his head.

“I’m moving.”

“You’re moving?” He looked disappointed.

“Yeah not far. A few houses down from Ana actually.”

“Oh good.” He said relieved.”

After that, he decided he wanted to help you. It was nice not being alone even though you told him he didn’t have to stay. He wanted to.

He even helped you transfer the boxes to your new apartment. You didn’t know Aaron had a voice on him...but he did.

“We built this city!” he sang/shouted.

“We built this city on rock and -“

“We built this city!” he answered.

“We built this city on rock and -“

“Rollllllllll” you sang together.

You giggled when the song was over and he grabbed your hand for the rest of the drive. You didn’t pull away. It felt too nice. It felt too right.

After helping you put your boxes into your next place it was time for him to head home. He told you that he could stay and help some more if you wanted but you could tell he was tired. You were tired. You told him you’d call if you needed any more help.

He made you promise you would because he knows you won’t if you feel like you absolutely can do it yourself even when you shouldn’t.

You promised.

On his way out there was a moment where you could have kissed him. Where you were saying goodbye and you were in the doorway and you were close enough to...but you didn’t. You weren’t ready. He knew you weren’t ready. He knew.

The feelings you have for Hotch keep growing but the feelings you have for Spencer stay the same. Spencer used to be your everything. But you weren’t his. You needed someone who would put you first. Well...close to first. Jack should always come first. Always.

You need to come first when it comes to women. Spencer didn’t put you first. Would he ever?

All alone I watch you watch her Like she’s the only girl you’ve ever seen You don’t care you never did You don’t give a damn about me

Yeah, all alone I watch you watch her She is the only thing you ever see How is it you never notice That you are slowly killing me?

Your phones ringtone was blaring and when you opened your tired eyes to read the time on your bedside table it read ‘3 AM.’ Who would call this late? Or...early? Either way you didn’t check the screen and just decided to click green and put the phone to your ear.

“Hello?” Your voice was groggy and you were a little annoyed to be woken up so early. It’s rude to do that to someone. Especially someone who only went to bed three hours ago.

“Y/N.” It wasn’t a question and it wasn’t in command. It was a sigh of relief followed by sniffles and a hiccup. It was Spencer.

“I didn’t think you’d pick up.” he said.

“You’re lucky I didn’t check my screen I should just -“

The only form of communication you’ve had with him since the incident was a few texts. Dry texts. On both ends.

“No!” he panicked. “Please don’t hang up please, please, I - I couldn’t sleep.”

You shut your eyes in frustration. “You called me at three in the morning because you couldn’t sleep?”

“No, I - I’m apologizing because I couldn’t sleep, no I - I’m apologizing because I was - I don’t know -“

“Spencer I really don’t have time for this. I have things to do tomorrow. What’s today Tuesday? We’ll have coffee or something Friday, okay?”

There was silence on the other end for a few seconds. “I have a date, no I mean plans Friday..uhm, Sunday?”

“Sunday.”

And you hung up the phone. You didn’t mean to sound bitter, you didn’t but seriously? You were actually willing to see him for once - maybe a decision your unconscious, pining, mind made - but still, and he can’t because of a date? A date?

With JJ no doubt. Of course it was JJ. It’s always been JJ. Every single time. “I can’t today Y/N JJ needs,” or “JJ called I gotta go,” or “Shoot I’m sorry I know we had plans but JJ -“

Will it always be JJ? Will she always be number one? Has she always been number one and you just never realized it? Have you been the girl he just hung out with because he couldn’t with her?

A few months ago...

“I bought chinese.” You grinned.

“Smells so good.” Spencer took the bags from your hands and kissed you on the cheek.

Spencer picked the movie this time since you picked it last time. He was sitting in the middle of the couch while you had your legs draped across his. Occasionally he’d bring his hand down to rub your legs.

Things were fine. Things were content. Until his phone rang.

“Y/N, It’s JJ I have to go.”

“What does she need?” you ask genuinely worried.

“Nothing I don’t think. I just gotta go.”

I hate you, I love you I hate that I love you You want her, you need her And I’ll never be her

———————————-—&—————————————-

i literally have no idea what this is i -

team hotch or spence?

if you have any ideas or scene ideas PLEASE tell me

i’m really trying on this happy ending thing

a spencer apology/talk scene is cominggg

i’m liking the idea of two endings? maybe?

spencer tag list: @hotchsbabygirl @pinkdiamond1016 @thefemalestorywriter @sizzlingclamturtlesludge @samyilf123 @mathchampagne @studywithrosie01 @reniescarlett @drreidsconverse @eveliiinnn27 @bweakmybonez

comments tag list: @yeah-just-ignore-me-thanks @geekgirleve @jhiddles03 @carlgrxmes @dreatine @meowiemari @thedaughterofhotchniss @we-are-dreamers42 @unabashedlyswimmingtimemachine @silverchains9182 @realalpacorn @enamouravecleslivresetlechocolat @matthew-gray-g @minami97 @mgg-th1996 @peculiarinsomniac @secondratecomplaint @fallinallinmendes @fantastic-fans @eldahae @psych0crybaby @tclaerh @ashwarren32 @spenciegoob @mustbeaweasleyginger @abschaffer2

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