#for him to throw traditional covered up clothing out of the window after he sees that his generation will not die. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

saturnsorbits · 3 months

Text

Lessons in Serving your King

Fandom: My Hero Academia, Warnings: Prince!Bakugo, Suggestive. Word Count: 1.6k.

Summary: Closing in on his 20th name day, tradition dictates that Prince Bakugo choose his first concubines.

A/N: This might become a series, but don't hold your breath.

'I don't want a fucking -.'

Grabbing her son by the cheeks, Mitsuki Bakugo fixes the young prince still with a cold stare. 'You will do as you're told.'

'But -'

'It is tradition, Katsuki. Not even your ego is large enough to put an end to that.' She smirks before releasing her hold and wipes a hand on the left hip of her dress. 'Now, come on... You're late.'

Huffing, Bakugo tugs at his shirt to smooth the wrinkles left by his mother, but follows on her heels obediently. Usually, he'd put up more of a fight, throw a proper tantrum, but the pit of curiosity growing in his stomach stops him making too much fuss. He's fucking human, after all. Of course, he's going to be at least a little interested in the collection of concubines that had been assembled specifically for his perusal.

That didn't mean he had any intention of choosing any of them, though.

The doors of the main hall seem more daunting than usual, but Bakugo hides his trepidation well.

Or so he thinks.

Mitsuki's hand touches softly on his shoulder, guiding him, not through the main hall, but down the corridor. She offers out her elbow, letting him cling to her as they continue to drift closer to a small, more intimate, service room.

The marble clicks under their shoes, the sound amplified endlessly as it rings behind them announcing their arrival. Large windows scatter light, bringing out the red in both Bakugo and his mother's eyes as they pass the selection of special guards already stationed outside the room. All seven of them, five sworn to his mother and two to him, are dressed from head to toe in royal finery with the lightest of chain mail glittering over their chests. Swords hang from their hips, but Bakugo knows there are much more deadly weapons hidden under their clothes and tucked away from prying eyes.

Captain Aizawa, one of Mitsuki's most trusted knights bows low when they reach the door.

Reaching out, Mitsuki presses a hand to his shoulder and pushes him straight again. 'Enough of that, you'll put your back out.'

Aizawa's mouth moves to argue, but Mitsuki doesn't allow his voice to summon a sound.

'Shouta, you have more than earned the right not to bow.' She chides in a way that makes goose-flesh break out on the other guards, but the Captain simply laughs.

'Is the prince ready, My Lady?'

Mitsuki's hand wraps around her son's bicep giving him a firm squeeze. 'Oh, you know him. Dragged here kicking and screaming.'

Bakugo scowls.

'But, I'm sure he'll manage.'

Another guard, tall and broad in the shoulders with a close crop of dark hair and a booming voice clears his throat. 'If I may speak out of turn, Captain?'

'You will not Yoarashi.'

Mitsuki waves him off. 'Oh, let the boy speak Shouta.'

The guard, Yoarashi, smiles. His teeth are too big for his mouth, but somehow there's still something strikingly handsome about him. Bakugo hates it. 'The consorts have outdone themselves this time, I've never seen a more stunning array of -.'

Captain Aizawa silences his guard with a raised hand. 'That's quiet enough, I think the Queen understands your sentiment.'

'Quite.' Mitsuki smiles, locking a chuckle behind her teeth. 'Speaking of the wonderful job my husbands consort has done, I think it's time to see what Inko has found for us, don't you, Katsuki?'

Bakugo nods, it's all he ca manage with the nerves threatening to make his knees wobble like some common whore. His jaw is tight, teeth clenched in his mouth, but it soon looses as he the doors are thrown wide and he's allowed to step into the room.

Inside the room is dark, the thick red curtains covering the windows putting an end to any natural light that should attempt to slink inside. Instead, the room is illuminated by a series of high torches that cast a godly glow about and perfectly highlighting the row of people stood across the centre of the room.

At once, Inko is upon them. She wraps chubby arms around Bakugo without a second thought and greets his mother with a warm kiss to her hand when offered. Following at her heel is Izuku, her darling son. 'Brother.' Izuku smiles.

'Half Brother.' Bakugo spits the former piece of his sentence, enjoying the way it feels between his lips – the distance it offers him from the man before him. They're the same age. Both Mitsuki and Inko had been pregnant at the same time and the boys born mere months apart, although Inko had done the chief portion of the nursing; especially when Mitsuki's milk had dried up. Something that had lead both women to an unlikely friendship.

'I heard you've outdone yourself this time.' Mitsuki pulls at Bakugo, steering him around to the front of the room.

Bakugo's eyes wonder. There's a conversation flowing in the air around him, but he pays no heed. How can he, when the most beautiful man he has ever laid eyes on is looking directly at him.

The man lifts his head. He is bare to the waist with only the smallest piece of cloth to cover his dignity. If Bakugo where to walk around him, which he just might, he'd bet he'd be able to see his ass in all it's glory.

He has red eyes, violent carnelian, that pierce right to Bakugo's soul and red hair that is tied neatly in a bun atop his head. Licking his lips when he catches the princes' eye, the man smiles, flashing a row of blade-like teeth that threaten to bring Bakugo to his knees.

'Did you hear?' Mitsuki pats Bakugo's lapel.

He didn't, but he nods anyway.

His eyes slip further down the line, silently comparing each concubine to the next, but no-one compares to the red-eyed man until his eyes are blessed by you.

You're near the end, stood beside two others that don't even come close to your beauty with your chin tilted to the floor and your hands clasped neatly before you. Like the others, you're dressed in almost nothing, but it's the bright red 'V' painted onto your skin across the top of your breast bone that has him pausing.

He's seen the mark before and a cursory glance back down the line tells him exactly where. The red head, amongst two or three others, also bare the mark.

Bakugo swallows.

Already he can feel his breeches tightening uncomfortably.

'How many?' He snaps, forcing his eyes from the line and onto Inko.

She blinks. 'Pardon?'

'How many... For my... For my harem?'

'Oh. Most choose at least six to begin with, but after that is custom to add another concubine for each year until you reach 29. Sometimes other kingdoms will offer then as gifts, but you're more than welcome to dismiss -.'

Bakugo raises his hand. 'I don't want a history lesson.'

'Oh, I -.' Inko blushes.

'Brat, watch your tongue...' Mitsuki raises her hand to crack him across the back of the head, but the prince side steps her assault easily.

'I want that one...' He points at you, eyes narrowed and hungry before he turns, pointing at the red haired man at the other end of the room. 'And him. That's all.'

Mitsuki's brow furrows. 'Two? Inko here scourers the kingdom for the finest it had to offer and you choose only two?'

Bakugo folds his arms. He can feel your eyes, the red-heads too, burning through his skin. It makes him hot, makes him wonder what it'll be like when your eyes grow heavy, when they're spotted with ears and your mouths are full of his tongue, his fingers, his cock.

Clearing his throat, he tries to readjust his breeches.

He won't have to imagine soon. No, soon, you'll be his.

'Have them brought to my rooms tomorrow.' Turning on his heel he shouts over his shoulder before storming from the room before his cock begins to soak into his breeches.

Tomorrow, he thinks as soon as the doors slam shit behind him.

That should give him enough time to fist himself stupid to the thought of red eyes and glittering skin.

Hopefully, that would stop him making a fool of himself at the first meeting.

Bakugo already looks bored when you're brought into his rooms at noon the following day. The door closes behind you, a guard having performed the customary introductions, and all too quickly you're swallowed by the nerves that climb up your body and twist around your lungs.

Adjusting his seat, Bakugo pulls a foot up onto his chair and spreads his knees. A bark leaves his chest that he hopes is harsher than it feels. 'I don't fuck virgins...'

You hear the wet click of Kirishima's throat from beside you in the silence of the room. Even though the red ink is gone, the fact of your both being intact remains the same. 'Uhm, my lord... I mean – Prince Bakugo, I'm... I think there's been some mistake, we're – we're both -.'

'I know.' He waves his hand. Anticipation creates pins and needles in his thighs. Even if he wanted to fuck right now, he's not sure his body would hold out long enough. Maybe, five orgasms in the space of a day was too much.

'Well, you can see how this might be a problem then...' Twisting his knuckles around each other, Kirishima chews at his lip and forces a weak smile. It's strange how he makes six-foot of man look almost as small as you are, but he does it easily and blushes pretty to boot.

'How -.' He clears his throat. 'How are we supposed to serve you if -.'

'You're going to fuck each other, first.' He arches an eyebrow, drawling as if the solution to his little problem has been more than obvious. A smirk curls his lip. 'I'll watch.'

-> Masterlist

#bakugo x reader #kirishima x reader #kiribaku x reader #saturnsorbits #saturnsuggests

2K notes · View notes

tsukishumai · 3 years

Text

pairing: miya osamu x gn!reader genre: fluff, strangers to lovers, slow burn word count: 3.2k summary: In which Osamu finds that the stranger lurking outside his store window has a connection to his restaurant that he could have never expected.

Osamu remembers every single face that has walked through the doors of Onigiri Miya since the day they’ve opened. He has yet to hire another worker, manning all stations of his business himself. The rush hours always provided him with a bit of a heavy work load, but Osamu has learned a lot about diligence and patience. Business had been good enough; traffic was steady throughout the day, and he had his fair share of regulars whose orders he had already memorized.

The stuffy, salt-and-pepper haired man in the pressed three-piece suit always ordered two umeboshi onigiri and a medium iced green tea. The kind old woman that ran the shop across the street would come in for his salted salmon, and if he had extra, Osamu would throw in an extra tuna mayo. She’d always smile and give him a pat on the shoulder, her eyes crinkling in a way that reminded Osamu of his grandmother.

It was when the shopkeeper had slowly walked out of his establishment and back to her own that Osamu noticed you standing a few feet away from his storefront. You had been wearing a face mask, but Osamu could see that you were staring at his sign. Your eyes squinted at the block letters that looked down at you, before they trailed down to land directly on Osamu. You seemed a little startled at the fact that his eyes were already staring at you, but you were standing outside his restaurant, weren’t you?

Before he could lift a hand to wave you in, you quickly turned and walked away.

Every few days, either during the dinner or lunch rush, Osamu would catch a glimpse of you outside of his restaurant. You’d stare at his sign for a few seconds; maybe glance at the menu board that stood a few feet away from his entrance, or look at the pictures of his full menu taped to the restaurant window. he would see the way you studied each item, yet you always walked the opposite direction.

It bothered Osamu. Why didn’t you want to come in? Did his menu look boring? Was his sign uninviting? Is his decoration too traditional? Should he have made it look a little more modern? He grumbled to himself about it each time you peeked in, and walked away. Why do you bother coming so often if you didn’t want to try his food? Osamu huffed.

It wasn’t until four weeks later, when Osamu had posted three brand new flavors on his menu board that you finally deemed his restaurant worthy enough to step in.

You had stopped by a little bit later than usual today, the dinner rush had come and gone, and the only ones left in the restaurant were you and Osamu. He stood patiently waiting behind his counter, desperately trying to look busy and as if he hasn’t been waiting for this moment for weeks.

He waited until you were close enough to his counter to say his greetings. You nodded at him in acknowledgment, taking a seat at the bar in front of him. He handed you a menu, and your eyes roved over the words as if they hadn’t done so dozens of times prior.

“Can I get ya anything to drink?” He asked, and you took off the baseball cap you had been wearing, setting it down on the counter beside you. Your finger hooks along the ear loop of your face mask and Osamu realizes he’s seeing your face for the first time. You place the piece of cloth in your pocket, and Osamu fights the heat across his cheeks.

“Just water,” you said, and Osamu was quick to set a fresh glass down in front of you.

“What’ll it be?” He asked after a few moments, adjusting the bill of his hat and settling his hand on his hip.

You hum a little, tapping your finger against your lips before you reply. “I’ll have the combo #2 with the gyoza.”

Osamu nodded, “What two flavors onigiri would you like?”

“For the first one, I’ll have your most popular flavor,” you say, before closing the menu and handing it back to him, “I’ll let you choose the second one.”

Osamu raised an eyebrow at your odd request, but nods anyway, putting the menu away and walking back to give his hands a quick wash.

He begins to gather his ingredients when he noticed you take out a notepad and a pen from your bag, placing it on the counter in front of your water.

“So,” he says, starting the process of making his number one seller (salted salmon), “What was it?”

“Excuse me?” You asked, pausing the drink that was half way to your lips. “What was what?”

“Well, ya stood outside for weeks, so I gotta know,” Osamu said, placing the delicate filling into the ball of rice he was kneading in his palm, “What made ya decide to finally come in?”

You tightened your lips, awkwardly setting the cup back down on the counter and placing a palm on your forehead.

“I was that obvious?”

“Were ya trying not to be?” He laughed, looking at you expectantly.

“It was the flavors on your board,” you finally replied, leaning back in your seat, “There was one that my grandfather used to make.”

Osamu smiled to himself, wrapping his first finished onigiri in the seaweed he had roasted earlier that day, placing it gently on a serving platter and moving over to make the next rice ball.

“That’s a coincidence,” Osamu said, “Your grandfather must have had great taste.”

“He used to own a restaurant,” you blurted out, and Osamu hummed.

“You’re kidding,” he said, “Whereabouts?”

You nibbled on your bottom lip, shifting your eyes side to side as if debating on whether you wanted to divulge him in your greatest secret. Eventually, you leaned forward, resting your elbow on the counter and placing your chin in your palm. “Actually, it was this one.”

Osamu’s fingers froze. “Ya don’t mean—?”

You nodded excitedly. Osamu lets out a scoff. “Now you’re just messin’ with me.”

“No, I swear!” A bright smile erupted across your cheeks as you jumped a little in your seat, “My grandparents used to own this restaurant.”

“I thought this was a boutique before I bought it?” Osamu questioned, putting his final touches on the second rice ball.

“It was,” you agreed, taking a sip from your water, “They owned this place until I was in high school, and sold it before they retired somewhere in the mountains. It’s been a few different stores since, but this is the first time it’s become a restaurant again. I was pretty surprised when I first saw it.”

Osamu felt an odd sensation of pride began to brew in his chest, shown in the way he sprinkled his sesame seeds a little extra forcefully.

“Well,” he said, placing the plate of two perfect onigiri right on the counter in front of you, “I hope I do this place some justice.”

You smiled, and Osamu found himself smiling with you. He pointed out the shake on the left, and the surprise flavor on the right. You nodded, intrigued, picking up the onigiri lying on the left side.

Osamu makes the gyoza while you take your first bite, nearly pumping his fist in victory when he sees you close your eyes in satisfaction, the tension he didn’t even know you carried slowly melting from your shoulders. He sees you quickly jot down comments on the notepad next to you, and Osamu tries to peek at what you wrote when he gives you the gyoza.

“Ya jottin’ down comments about my food?” He joked, and you jumped a little at his voice, “Got any suggestions, then?”

You smile sheepishly, “It’s just a little hobby of mine.”

He nods, grabbing a towel and wiping down the counter that he had just used. “Well, ya let me know if ya need anything else.”

“It’s just you working tonight?” You ask, grabbing your chopsticks and picking up a piece of gyoza.

“It’s just me every night,” he chuckled.

Your eyes widened as you chewed on your food, swallowing with a loud gulp.

“Doesn’t that get exhausting?” You ask, quickly jotting down your notes before diverting your attention back to him.

Osamu just shrugged. “I poured my everything into something I didn’t love half as much as cooking. This is just how I know how to do things.”

You tilted your head to the side, “What did you do before this?”

Osamu takes a deep breath as he lifts his hat up a little bit to ruffle his fingers through his hair. He flips the cap around and puts it on backwards, his vision no longer half covered by the bill of his hat and he can now look at you fully. He almost wants to laugh because no one has ever asked him that version of this question before. It was always, ‘What are you going to be doing after volleyball?’

He hated the fact that any answer other than ‘I’m going to play professionally’ was deemed a shame, or a waste. For Osamu, he didn’t want to waste another second not pursuing his passion.

So it was refreshing to tell you about volleyball as if it was just a footnote in his food journey; something that he had done prior to finally recognizing his actual potential.

You gawked at him in disbelief, “Volleyball? Were you even any good?”

Osamu actually recoiled in offense, “I’ll have ya know I was on a team that went to nationals three years in a row.”

You raised your eyebrows appreciatively, and Osamu straightened a little.

“So why food?” You question him again, and Osamu wonders if you’re always this inquisitive. He’s answered this question hundreds of times, swore up and down that he would shoot the next person that even dared to say ‘Why food?’ in front of him. Yet for some reason, he felt more than happy to divulge you.

“Because food is more than just something ya eat when you’re hungry. It’s coming back from a long trip, and it’s the warmth that spreads through your body when ya eat your mom’s cooking for the first time. That taste of victory that spreads across your tongue when ya go out for a meal with your pals after a game. The sensation of closing your eyes in satisfaction when ya take a bite out of a fresh onigiri after a long day,” you pause your scribbles at that moment, looking up to shoot him a playful glare. Osamu chuckled and continued, “It’s laughter shared around the table, and memories made over a plate that makes food more than just nourishment for our body, but also for our soul.”

Osamu feels his cheeks heat up as he finishes his speech, embarrassment beginning to sink in at the end of his long tangent. You looked at him with a soft look on your face as you finished the last bite of your first onigiri, and dusted your fingers from any stray grains of rice.

“Words to live by,” you commented, lifting your glass of water up in agreement before tilting it back for a drink.

He let out a breath of relief that lasted only a second when he saw you reach over to pick up the onigiri with toppings he picked out for you. He held his breath as you took a bite, not expecting to see your eyes widen so fast, snapping your head down to the innocent rice ball that now sported a bite mark.

“Shio kombu cheese?” you say hurriedly, holding the onigiri closer to your face.

Osamu steps forward, “Do ya like it?”

You take another bite, chewing slowly, savoring the flavors as they melded in your mouth, and your eyes nearly begin to water.

“I never thought someone other than my grandfather would be weird enough to come up with this,” you laughed, scarfing down the rice ball in less than two seconds. “Yet here it is.”

“It’s not weird,” he defended, “It’s refined.”

You laugh as you dive into a story from your childhood spent sitting in this exact restaurant. Osamu listens intently as you recount how many different failed recipes your grandfather had forced you to ty and review, helping him decide what to put on the menu, or which combinations would bring in the businessmen that always seemed to just walk passed the restaurant.

He tells you of the tantrum his brother threw when he told him he was quitting volleyball, but still, Atsumu was his first sale. You pester him about his secret ingredient, and give him an incredulous look when he says it’s the rice. (“My old volleyball captain is a rice farmer.” “… what an interesting volleyball team.”)

The furniture was different, and the lay out was unfamiliar, but the atmosphere around Osamu’s counter had brought you right back into your childhood, reminding you of all the reasons why you loved what you did in the first place.

Long after your plates had been emptied, and the hour hand on the clock had extended way passed closing time, you finally paid for your meal, stood up from your seat and prepared to take your leave.

“Thank you for the meal, and the conversation,” you lean forward to read his name tag, “Miya-san.”

“Osamu,” he corrects, and raises an eyebrow at you.

You tell him your name, and Osamu repeats it in his mind over and over again.

“Come back soon,” he calls out his usual greeting as you walked out the door, but it felt different when he said it to you.

“I will,” you smile, waving a hand before stepping into the night, leaving Osamu with a dizzy head and fluttering stomach.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

In the following weeks since his late night encounter with you, Onigiri Miya had ceased to be a simple stop along someone’s route to work, or an afterthought on the way home.

One could imagine Osamu’s surprise when he arrived an hour and half before he was due to open, and already a line began to form down the sidewalk. He thought, perhaps it was a fluke, or maybe there was some sort of business convention in town nearby – something to explain the sudden spike in popularity.

Yet day after day, the crowds of people came to him by the dozens, climbing over each other to get a taste of his cooking. He couldn’t stop to wonder how long this was going to last, barely having the time to stop and give himself a break.

He finally realizes it’s not merely coincidence when the lines get longer, yet the faces he sees stay the same. Osamu remembers every single face that walks through the doors of Onigiri Miya, and it’s the ones that he sees over and over that truly give his restaurant its meaning.

The last customer of the dinner rush left thirty minutes ago when Osamu’s phone rang.

“‘llo,” he greets, sandwiching the phone between his ear and shoulder as he sweeps the floor, thinking about how he needed to start looking for someone to hire.

“Hey, asshole,” the voice of his twin comes through loud and clear, “When were ya gonna tell me ya invited that food blogger to your restaurant? And how the hell did ya get them to like your garbage cooking?”

Osamu stops in confusion, grabbing the phone and holding it up himself. “Did ya finally get hit in the head a little too hard at practice? What the hell are ya talking about?”

Atsumu curses at Osamu, telling him to hold on a second as he sends him the link.

Osamu pulls the phone away from his ear for a second, quickly pressing on the blue url that popped up from Atsumu’s chat bubble.

It took a second for it to load, but when it did, Osamu’s jaw dropped

ONIGIRI MIYA IS AN ONIGIRI MUST HAVE by L/N Y/N

Beneath the obnoxious title was a photo of his sign, shining brightly against the wooden panels of his building, looking very much like a beacon for those searching for the perfect plate.

“Your shop is all over the internet and I had to find out about it on my news feed?! What the hell kinda brother are ya...”

Atsumu’s voice faded into the background as Osamu read the flattering words you had written about his restaurant. You complimented the decoration he had been insecure about, and he chuckled at the way you had described the fluffiness of his rice. He was captivated by your use of prose, painting the perfect picture of exactly everything he wanted his food to convey.

It wasn’t until he got to the last paragraph when he felt his breath hitch in his throat.

Though the years have passed, and the season have changed, the sentimentality of this particular shop had never lost its meaning for me. For the first time in years, I felt the soul of my grandfather, the curator of my inspiration and passion, all around the atmosphere of what is now Onigiri Miya. I have every faith that the new owner has already done him justice.

“Excuse me, are you still open?”

Osamu tore his eyes away from the screen, the very author of the only review that will ever matter to him stood a mere few feet away from his counter.

“Call you later, Tsumu,” he said hurriedly.

“Hey, wh—“

Osamu slips his phone back into his pocket, turning his attention back to you. You had a cheeky smile on your face as you waited patiently.

“Welcome to Onigiri Miya,” he says dryly, and you laugh at his tone.

“Should you be on your phone while you’re on the clock?” You joke as you settle in the same seat you occupied the last time you paid him a visit.

“I don’t know,” Osamu crosses his arms, “Should ya be writing articles about people without telling em?”

You winced a little at his words, holding your hands up in surrender. “You saw it then?”

Osamu nodded.

You looked to the side, rubbing the side of your arm. “Did you like what I wrote?”

Osamu smiled, uncrossing his arms and walking to the back to wash his hands. You watch him curiously as he walked back to you, and pointed to a spot on the wall directly to your right.

“That’s where I’m gonna put it,” he said, “when I print it out and frame it.”

You laughed at the seriousness of his face, and he smirked in satisfaction.

You ordered the combo #2 with a side of gyoza, letting Osamu pick the two flavors. You mentioned how you tried to visit a couple of times, but the line was always so far out the door. He realizes that he has you to thank for that, and you blush deeply when he sincerely tells you so.

“So,” you say as you munch on the honey garlic pork onigiri he prepared, “Aren’t you glad you did this instead of boring, old volleyball?”

Osamu nearly chokes at the insult. “Volleyball is not boring.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah,” he says, clearing his throat, “Let me take you to a game some time. We can eat something other than rice balls.”

You look up from the half eaten onigiri at the chef who made it so carefully, looking so bashful and nervous you couldn’t help but smile.

“Yeah. I would love that.”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

thank you for reading! reblogs are highly appreciated <33

851 notes · View notes

bxcketbarnes · 3 years

Text

Becoming Soft

Pairing: Loki Laufeyson x Reader

Words: 2600+

Author’s Note: Hey, guys! I’m going to be writing for Loki now cause I’m so far up his ass. He’s pretty. Very fucking pretty. I hope you guys enjoy this! Let me know what you think!

"Hey, Y/N! I totally left my uniform at your place when I stopped by the other night. Could you be a doll and bring it to the compound?"

A chuckle leaves your lips as you eye the bodysuit that's draped over the chair in your living room. "Yeah, Nat. I'll be over as soon as I get ready," you tell her with a grin.

"You're a lifesaver, oh my god," she groans and you laugh in response. "When you get here you can just come on up, alright?"

"I know the drill. I'll see you soon, Natasha," you mumble and the two of you bid each other goodbye before hanging up the phone.

Believe it or not, this isn't the first time Natasha has left her suit here. Usually, she comes straight over to your place after a mission to clear her head. It's a nice tradition you have, but sometimes you worry about her mental health.

You quickly slip your night clothes off before sliding on a pair of black jeans with a few holes in them, throwing a silky tank top over your head afterward. You simply do your morning routine before making your way towards the front door.

You toss her suit into your bag, running a hand through your hair to fluff it up while leaving your apartment. It didn't take you long to make it to the Avengers compound, seeing Wanda and Vision sitting on the bench near the front door.

A smile comes to your face at how close the two of them are. You park your car outside of the building before turning your vehicle off. "Hey, Wanda. Vision," you greet the pair and they give you a small wave.

"Nat forget her suit again?" Wanda teases and you let out a snort, nodding your head.

"That she did. I'm starting to feel like a dry cleaner," you like as you walk past the two of them.

You run your fingers over the material of her jumpsuit, not paying attention to where you're going when your body collides with someone else.

A gasp leaves your lips as you stumble a bit, placing your hands on the person's chest as apologies come from your lips while glancing up through your lashes. The God of Mischief stands in front of you with a somber look on his face.

You gulp and slowly remove your hands from his chest. "I'm sorry," you mumble quietly and Loki looks away from you before pushing past you, his shoulder bumping against yours. You watch him walk away as you can feel a twinge of hurt flow through your body. "Excuse me, I apologized. The least you can say is, "that's okay!""

The raven-haired man halts in his tracks before glancing over his shoulder, his green eyes looking down at you. "Maybe you should watch where you're going," he states before continuing to walk away from you.

A scoff leaves your lips and crosses your arms over your chest. You tuck a strand of hair behind your ear and continue to make your way towards Natasha's room.

"Oh, you're here! Thank god!" She grins while walking towards you.

A laugh leaves your lips and hands her the suit. You gently chew your bottom lip as you decide to ask her what's up with Loki.

"So, is Loki always… gloomy?" You ask out of curiosity and Nat raises an eyebrow in response. "I accidentally ran into him on my way in and he was just-"

"Unpleasant?" She cuts you off and a sigh leaves your lips, nodding your head. "That's just Loki. He's like that to everyone. Don't take it personally."

You hum and glance out her window to see the God of Mischief sitting in the middle of the field. "Can't help but feel intrigued by him," you mutter and keep your eyes on the god.

Natasha watches you and sees the gears turning in your brain, knowing you're thinking of ways to try and get closer to Loki. The blonde doesn't know whether or not it's a good idea, but she knows that she won't be able to stop you.

"You should go talk to him. Maybe he'll warm up to you," Nat tells you and you glance over your shoulder.

"I doubt that."

Natasha shrugs her shoulders as you head towards her bedroom door, contemplating the idea. "Go try. You need to be more social," she teases and you scoff, rolling your eyes playfully.

"Fine. I'll go embarrass myself," you mumble and Natasha laughs as you walk out of her room.

You make your way down to the exit, greeting Steve as you walk by the man. You tangle your fingers together as you grow closer to Loki, feeling yourself becoming more nervous.

You notice him reading a book and you low-key wonder what it is, being a book connoisseur yourself. "Whatcha reading?" You ask him and Loki doesn't even look up at you.

"A book," he bluntly says and you let out a snort, moving to sit beside him.

"Well, no shit Sherlock," you grin amusingly.

Loki doesn't say anything and closes his book. He hmphs before pushing himself up off of the ground and starts to head back.

A frown replaces the grin on your lips and you sigh. "Well, that failed," you tell yourself. Loki hears your defeated sigh and looks back at you to see your slumped figure.

He hums quietly while tapping his fingers against the hard-covered book. Loki clicks his tongue before continuing to walk towards the compound, heading back to his room.

You stare off towards the woods as your fingers pick at the grass. You sit there for a few more minutes before picking yourself up. You dust yourself off and turn back towards the large building when a piece of paper on the ground in front of you.

You furrow your eyebrows and lean down to pick it up. "Sifdotter's, The Glow of Winter," you read aloud and a small smile comes to your lips. "If you want you're more than welcome to come by. I've got plenty of books if you're interested."

Your heart flutters in your chest as you read the handwritten note. You twirl the note between your fingers before placing it into your pocket. Your gaze moves up towards the second floor of the building, seeing Loki standing in front of his window.

The God's hands rest behind his back as he watches you walk towards the front, hearing your thoughts from fifty yards away. A smirk comes to his lips as he hears you think about trying to get closer to him.

"Interesting…"

You rush into the compound, muttering apologies as you almost run into some of the Avengers. Natasha watches you run by her with a small smirk on her lips, seeing you run up the stairs. "Loki!" You call out and the man peeks his head out of the bedroom, a raised eyebrow on his face.

"Yes?" He mumbles and you skid to a stop, almost running into the man.

You pull a book out that you found at the bookshop, a large grin on your lips. "I found this and thought you would like it," you tell him and the man looks down at the book, reading the title before reaching out to grab it.

A blush covers your cheeks as Loki's fingers brush against yours. His green eyes meet yours and your breath hitches in your throat, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. "This is sweet," Loki mumbles quietly, a small smile on his lips as he rummages through the novel.

"It just…" you trail off and press your lips together, your cheeks heating up. "When I saw the book I immediately thought of you, so I bought it."

Loki grins at your words and reaches his hand towards your face, stroking your cheek with the back of his fingers. "You're quite adorable, you know," he says and you look away from him.

"I- Thank you," you mumble in response, not used to this kind of affection from Loki.

The raven-haired man eyes you carefully, trying to figure out what move to do next. He's not particularly experienced in the dating world, and he definitely doesn't know how far you're comfortable with.

You clear your throat as Loki's fingers continue to stroke your flushed cheeks, feeling his eyes on you the whole time. "Are you going to let me go?" You ask quietly as you can't bring yourself to look him in the eye.

He makes you nervous, has been ever since you first met him a couple of years ago. You're surprised you let Natasha talk you into trying to be his friend, but you don't regret it.

Loki grins and drops his hand from your face, hearing your thoughts ask a million questions at once. "I don't quite want to but since you asked so nicely," he teases and you scoff playfully as you scratch at your neck.

"Oh my god, Loki. You're killing me," you mumble while walking towards his window. The man chuckles and follows closely, placing the book you gave him into his bed.

Loki steps up behind you, one of his hands gliding up your arms as the God inhales your scent. "I'm not… I'm not used to this feeling, darling. But, you make my heart flutter," he whispers into your ear and your eyes flutter shut as you swallow thickly.

You turn around quickly, Loki's hands resting on your hips. "Do I really? Me?" You whisper and the raven-haired man chuckles before nodding his head.

His green eyes glance down at your lips and your breath hitches in your throat. "Can I kiss you?" Loki asks politely and you nod your head.

Loki brings his hand up to your neck, his fingers grazing along the soft skin before resting against the back of your neck. The two of you lean closer towards each other and you feel his breath fan your face. Your eyes flutter shut as his lips brush against yours, a shudder running down your spine.

You press your lips against him and you feel butterflies roam around your stomach. Loki pulls your body close to his, his arms wrapping around your waist. Cheers can be heard from outside Loki's window, causing the two of you to pull apart.

You glance over your shoulder to see Natasha watching you and your cheeks blush. "Well, maybe we shouldn't have kissed in front of everyone," you mumble quietly and Loki laughs, his hand rubbing your back softly.

"Eh, I don't mind. Now everyone knows you're mine, darling," he hums in response and you bite your lip.

"Well, I should let you get back to whatever you're doing," you tell him and pull away. "You guys have a mission?"

Loki shrugs his shoulders and glances out the window, seeing everyone bring stuff into the quinjet. "I guess so. I'm not around them much, so I'm usually the last one to find out," he mumbles and you frown slightly.

"Are they… are they nice to you?" You ask him and Loki chuckles.

"Yeah, they are now. At first not so much. It's not them, it's just me. I'm used to being alone," he informs you and you nod your head in response. "You're more than welcome to come by when we get back."

You smile softly as you tangle your fingers together. "Yeah, I can come by," you grin, and Loki nods, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. "Also, I know you're a god and all but please be careful."

The raven-haired man chuckles and strokes your cheek. "I am a God, darling. I'm always careful."

"Y/N!" Natasha calls out while pounding on your door. You jump up from your slumber, looking around with a confused expression on your face. "Y/N, answer the door!"

You scramble out of bed and rush towards your front door. You’re breathing heavily as the anxiety easily fills your body, worried that something might have happened.

A gasp leaves your lips as you open your door to see Natasha dragging Loki's unconscious body. "What happened?!" You ask and usher her into the apartment.

"We were trying to sneak into the building when Loki was found," Nat informs you as the two of you lay him on your sofa. "They banged him up pretty good."

You notice the cuts on his face and gently trail your fingertips along the wounds. "When did he go unconscious?" You ask her, glancing towards the blonde.

"About fifteen minutes ago. On our way back to the compound," she mentions and you furrow your eyebrows, wondering why she brought him here.

"Then why did you bring him here? They have med-bay at the compound?!" You freak out while resting your hand upon Loki's shoulder.

Natasha sighs and runs a hand through her hair. "Before he passed out he told me to bring him to you," she mumbles and you furrow your eyebrows. "I need to get back but if you need me, call me."

You nod your head as the woman leaves your apartment, leaving you and an unconscious Loki alone. You glance towards the clock to see it's almost two in the morning. A sigh leaves your lips as you try to remove his clothes.

Loki's hand suddenly grips yours as you attempt to push his shirt up. A gasp leaves your lips as your eyes widen. A cough leaves the man's lips before letting out a groan.

"Loki?" You quietly call out and his eyes slowly open.

His grip on your wrist loosens and you bring your hand to his face. "Hey, darling," Loki groans while leaning into your touch.

You give him a small smile, still worried about him as he tries to sit up. A few groans leave his lips as Loki manages to sit against the back of the couch. "Are you okay?" You ask and he nods his head. "You told me you'd be careful."

Loki looks up at you and grabs your hand once more, lacing his fingers with yours. "I'm okay, love. It's merely a scratch. Nothing I can't handle. I'm a god, remember?" He jokes with you and you frown, squeezing his hand.

"Doesn't mean I'm not worried about you, Loki. I know we've only been an item for maybe seven hours, but I-"

"I know, darling," Loki cuts you off, giving you a smile. "I've felt it for a while. It was always there. I was just too stubborn to take action."

You chew on your lip and sit beside the man, your hand resting on his leg. "I've never felt this strongly about anyone," you mumble and Loki grins.

"Me neither, love."

You kiss his cheek and can feel his cheeks heat up under your lips. A giggle leaves your lips and tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. “Do you have any serious injuries?” You ask the man and Loki shakes his head. You let out a breath of relief and mumble to yourself as Loki wraps his arms around you.

“I’m in the midst of healing, love. You’ve got nothing to worry about.”

“C’mon,” you mumble and pull yourself out of Loki’s grasp, standing up from the couch. “You need some rest, so let’s get some sleep.”

You tug on the man’s arm and a chuckle leaves your lips as you try to pull him off of the couch. Loki smiles and pushes himself up, your fingers intertwining with each other as you lead him towards your bedroom. “We’ve been together for less than twenty-four hours and you’re already bringing me into your room. How naughty,” Loki jokes and you blush, stopping in your tracks before smacking his chest playfully.

"I can make you sleep on the couch," you tell him with a raised eyebrow and Loki puts his hands up in defense.

"I'll gladly sleep with you, darling."

Taglist: @rebelwith0utacause @poweredbyghostadventures @valentine5sos @deephideoutmilkshake @patchworkstaples

352 notes · View notes

elareine · 3 years

Note

Tim realizing that since Jason has been in the pit, Jason is always cold. He cant get warm. Tim throws himself into working this out, there has to be something to warm Jason.

Hi, anon, thank you for your patience. I… took the sappy route with this. Since this got longer than 1k, I posted it on ao3, too.

Attempt One

“How’re you doing?”

Tim eyes the bundle in front of him critically. Jason dropped by his safe house thirty minutes ago, teeth chattering after an encounter with Mr. Freeze, and he only looked marginally better. The chattering stopped; that can be a good sign or a very bad one.

Jason gives him a weak grin. “Alright. No danger of turning into an icicle any time soon.”

Hmm. Tim will see that for himself.

When he moves, Jason lifts a hand in protest. “Hey, no—“

Tim completely ignores Jason’s protests—he’d feel worse about it if it wasn’t the only way to handle injured Bats—and sticks his hand between the isolation blanket and Jason’s neck… just to flinch back. “Holy shit!”

“Nah, it’s—“

“It’s hypothermia, is what it is!” Whatever bullshit is coming out of Jason’s mouth, Tim is not listening. “You’re going into shock! We gotta get some extra heat in here, or maybe actually call the hospital; I’m not equipped for this—“

Jason’s hand closes over his mouth. Tim gives him a second to remove it, then he licks it.

Jason just grins. “As I was trying to say: It’s always like that. My body temperature never went back to normal after daying.”

“Nnr?”

“Never.” Jason shrugs. He looks completely unbothered in a way that leaves Tim incensed. That’s just stupid. Did Jason just accept the fact that he’s in constant discomfort as if that’s not a thing there should be—should be—multiple solutions to, what the fuck. Tim is gonna fix this, so God help him.

Tim is so busy coming up with 315 possible solutions that he even forgets to bite Jason’s hand for a moment.

(Only a moment, though. “Ouch!”)

Attempt Two

“I’m not sure how you think piling more blankets on me will help me raise my core temperature.”

“Of course it’s not.”

Jason raises an eyebrow at the three blankets currently on top of him. “Right. Silly of me.”

Tim rolls his eyes. Men. So ungrateful. “Your core temperature is obviously affected. That’s why I brought heating blankets.” Many, many heating blankets. Jason ends up looking somewhat like a disgruntled duck by the end. Tim has pictures to prove it.

Thirty minutes later, Tim takes Jason’s temperature. Still way, way too low for a human. He sighs. That would’ve been too easy, huh.

“You know,” Jason waggles his eyebrows, “there’s a rather more traditional way of warming up under the blanket.”

Tim swats his head. “Keep it in your pants.”

“Even if I wasn’t, you wouldn’t be able to tell under all these blankets,” Jason tells him mournfully.

Tim decides that retreat is the better part of valor. For today. Just until he can stop imagining what Jason could do to… warm up.

Attempt Three

“A hot bath.”

“…you think I haven’t tried that?”

No. No, actually Tim doesn’t, and his expression must adequately convey that cause Jason throws his hands up. “Okay, no, I haven’t, not really. My place isn’t that fancy.”

“It certainly doesn’t have this tub. Now shoo, get out of these clothes.”

“Why, darlin’, you only ever had to ask.” Without ceremony, Jason pulls off his shirt, then begins working on his belt. “Alright, tell me: What makes this tub special?”

“From observation, I conclude that your resistance to high temperatures has also increased,” Tim begins in an excellent mad scientist voice, just to drop it right after. “Or you wouldn’t be able to wear that fucking jacket in summer. So I engineered a tub that will slowly heat up to a temperature just above 50 degrees Celsius.”

“I sure hope so,” Jason grumbles as he climbs in, unabashed in his nudity, “cause right now it’s really fucking cold, babybird.”

Funny cause Tim thinks it’s definitely getting hot in here.

Hoping his face doesn’t heat up—haha—, he looks down at his phone and activates the heat settings on the tub. “At least,” he says thoughtfully, “we don’t have to worry about accidentally causing a heart infarct or anything like with normal freezing victims. I think.”

“I’m gonna pretend I didn’t hear that.”

“We’ll take it slow, anyway.”

Almost two hours later, Jason’s skin is red and wrinkled and covered in glitter from Tim’s bath bomb. He’s still cold to the touch.

Attempt Four

“Tea? Really?”

“You like tea.” Jason has been hanging around Tim’s place often enough that the younger man knows. (If there’s a corner of the top shelf just dedicated to Jason’s favorite blends, well, they don’t talk about it.) “And anyway, this tea is special.”

Jason put down the cup. “Tim.”

“Yes?”

“Tell me you didn’t get this from Ivy.”

“I didn’t get this from Ivy,” Tim recites just a little too dutifully. Truthfully, he hasn’t—it’s of his own creation in the lab—but seeing Jason squirm is just too funny.

“The things I do for you, babybird,” Jason sighs and exes about half of it. When nothing obviously terrible happens, he drinks the rest in small, careful sips.

“Nothing?”

“A hint of chamomile—I get that one, soothing—and… bergamot?”

“Yeah, that’s your favorite, right?” Tim’s taking down notes and is only half-listening. “How do you feel? Any warmer?”

When Jason doesn’t reply right away, Tim does look up. “Jay?”

The older man has a slight smile on his face. “A little warmer, yes.”

Tim brightens and jumps up. Jason lets him stick the thermometer under his tongue without any objection. Tim is a little disheartened when it climbs up to 33°C and stays there, again, though he tries to stay focused on the positives: “I guess it’s a start, though. After all, the perception of warmth is just as or more important than the objective temperature.”

“Uhuh.”

“Also, you didn’t turn green, so that’s good.”

“Tim!”

Attempt Five

“Okay, if this doesn’t work, I don’t even know anymore.”

“Please tell me you’re not hooking me up to electrodes.”

“Sorry, that’s too dumb a lie even for me.” Tim is about to demand that Jason takes his shirt off again—an unfortunate side effect of this type of experiment, really, how terrible that he has to ogle those pecs and abs again—when he pauses. “Wait. Is that… a bad thing?”

Which is terrible phrasing for Is this something that was used to torture you? but Jason seems to get it cause he shakes his head. “Nah, just didn’t know you’re into that.”

“I’m not!” Tim isn’t.

…at least, he doesn’t think he is? There’s certainly something to be said about the inherent homoeroticism of applying gel to another man’s skin and attaching electrodes. He’s so caught up in the entire thing—and the way Jason’s muscles jump and twitch when Tim applies his own brand of stimulant ray to them—that he doesn’t notice how quiet Jason is, too.

However, in the end, the thermometer still reads 33°C.

“Fuck,” Tim mutters. “I really thought I had it.”

“Guess I can put my shirt back on.” Jason makes no move to do so.

“Yeah.” Tim is looking at his notes again, trying to figure out where he went wrong. His joking words at the beginning aside, there are still options, avenues for him to pursue. It’s just that these are the most promising ones, and Tim can’t bear the thought of failure. The idea that Jason will just—will just have to live like this, forever cold and disconnected—

He lifts his face when he hears Jason putting his shoes and jacket on. “You don’t have to leave. I can still—“

“Nah, it’s fine. There’re only so many sex jokes I can make before even I can take the hint,” Jason sighs. “Thanks, though, Tim. I really appreciate the effort.” He turns toward the window.

It takes 4.7 seconds for Tim’s brain to catch up with that, and then another 2.4 for it to convince his body to move.

“Jay! Wait!”

The Solution

The afternoon sun throws golden rays into their bedroom. Tim can feel her rays tickle his face, his eyes, so he turns further into the embrace that’s been offered to him all night. Jason doesn’t wake up, just snuffles out a slight snore and pulls Tim half on top of him as if his boyfriend is some sort of overgrown teddy bear.

Tim snuggles into the crook of Jason’s neck contently. In his opinion, there’s no better place to be: His lover underneath him, chest rising and falling with every breath he takes, warm and alive and here for Tim…

Wait.

Warm. Jason’s warm.

Tim scrambles up and frantically reaches for his bedside, where the damned thermometer has a place of pride after the last time he got sick, and Jason returned the favor by taking his temperature every five minutes.

“Babybird…?” Jason’s voice is rough with sleep. Tim feels a little bad about waking him up, but: !!!!

The thermometer climbs. And climbs. When it stops, it reads 36°C degrees.

“That makes absolutely no sense,” Tim whispers, awed.

“Nope,” Jason agrees amiably. “You’ll figure it out, though. Can I have some more snuggles first?”

On the one hand, Tim is dying to look this up in the literature and maybe talk to someone who knows Lazarus Pits better. This doesn’t make sense scientifically, so there has to be some magic involved, right? Perhaps the pits are more into metaphors than they thought, or—there are so many possibilities, and Tim can’t wait to explore them.

On the other hand… Jason’s looking soft and warm, opening his arms for Tim, and he’s smiling. It’s no contest, really.

Tim presses a kiss to Jason’s cheek and sinks back into his embrace, scientific pursuits forgotten.

#elareine writes #jaytim

193 notes · View notes

youwerenevermeanttofeelalone · 3 years

Text

Christmas Figurines and Mistletoe | Damian Wayne

✦ pairing — older!Damian Wayne x gender neutral!Plus Size Reader

✦ word count — 2.4k

✦ request — Could you write something about being caught under the mistletoe with Damian Wayne? Fluffy and really mutty.

✦ warnings — nsfw, reader has a vagina, making out, vaginal sex, pouty Damian, jealousy if you squint, fluff.

✦ author’s note — I assumed anon meant smutty instead of mutty.

════════════════════════

Damian was driving you crazy. And not the good kind of crazy. You were regretting staying at Titan Tower instead of going Christmas shopping with your friends.

You had assumed they would need the bonding moment on their own. They would spend Christmas at the tower while you would do so at home, it was only fair.

The problem was that you didn’t think Damian would come to the tower so early. He had said he’d come by that evening to make sure everything was perfect for the Christmas party you all convinced him to throw.

He hated almost everything. And you were terrified of showing him the Christmas tree because it was... a lot.

Explaining to him that Christmas was supposed to be colorful and that meant things looking tacky here and there would be pointless. He had been clear on what he didn’t want to see.

Damian clenched his jaw as he stood in front of the tree. “Why are the lights off?”

“The Tower’s empty.”

“You are here,” he said drily. “What did you do?”

You immediately defended yourself, “I didn’t do anything! I wasn’t here when the tree was decorated. You sent Jon and me on that quick mission, remember?”

Damian grunted, nodding. To your horror, he lit the tree up himself. A strange sound spluttered from his throat, and he turned to look at you with narrowed eyes.

“Damian, come on! It’s cheerful.”

“Who was the genius who decided that colorful lights and colorful ornaments were a good look?”

“I don’t know... Christmas trees come from a German tradition, and—“

He interrupted you, exasperated, “This specific tree!”

You shrugged. The tree had already been decorated when you came back, just like the kitchen.

Oh, the kitchen. Damian hated it, it looked cluttered according to him.

He picked a ceramic figurine and examined it. “This is the sloppiest paint job I’ve ever seen.”

“Most figurines come like that. Or with deformed faces.”

He placed it back in its place, turning around to examine you. “I find it interesting,” he mused, dragging his eyes to the microwave which was decorated by a Christmas themed microwave cover, “that you seem to know a lot about figurines and their flaws.”

“I didn’t buy them if that’s what you’re implying.”

“You bought Christmas mugs for everybody.”

“Yes, but I didn’t buy those!” Seeing him incredulously lift his eyebrows, you groaned. “Look, those figurines are common in most households. My mom loves them. That’s it, that’s how I know how flawed the come.”

“What will you do if I inspect your bedroom and more of those ugly things are there?”

You slanted your head, making a motion for him to exit the kitchen with you. “Come. Inspect it.”

You lead the way, more relieved than exasperated. He would drop it once he realized you didn’t have anything to do with it, he always did.

Before he could cross the kitchen’s doorway, Damian halted his steps behind you, grasping your hips and pulling you closer to him. You turned around, now confused.

He looked up to the top of the doorframe. His eyes stayed there and he remained silent which prompted you to look up too.

You shifted as mistletoe came to view. “I— I didn’t put that there... I didn’t even know somebody had bought it!” You attempted to move, hoping he would drop his hands. When he didn’t, you said, “I’ll get it off.”

Damian’s grip on your hips tightened. “Not following the tradition would bring us bad luck,” he explained with ease.

Your stomach flipped. Damian wasn’t superstitious.

“Yeah,” you breathed out, “you’re right.”

You half-expected a comment along the lines of ‘I’m always right,’ but instead, he slowly leaned in. You did the same, meeting him in the middle. His lashes brushed your skin when his eyes lidded closed, prompting yours to flutter.

He kissed you softly, taking his time to map your lips with his own, somewhat afraid of kissing you wrong. You tentatively placed your hands on his arms, ever so slightly tilting your head.

Pulling away, you nervously watched him. Damian slowly opened his eyes, not helping your case and making you feel giddy as he gazed at you.

He brought you in for another kiss, resting his lower back against the counter. Damian swiped his tongue along your bottom lip, and you eagerly opened your mouth for him.

His pleased hum sent shivers down your spine. As if it wasn’t enough to have you breathless, his hands lightly wandered to your back. His touch and kiss didn’t match in rhythm, and it only drove you crazier.

One of his hands fell onto your ass, then the other. You instinctively pushed your hips forward, hands flying to his shoulders. He grasped your asscheeks in both hands and pulled your hips flush against his.

A low whimper left your mouth, going directly down his throat as he swallowed it by kissing you harder.

He pushed you back. Assuming he needed space, you withdrew your hands from his shoulders. Damian briefly frowned, yet his grip tightened on you as he tried a different approach by walking you backward instead of pushing you.

“I still need to inspect your room,” he said, voice low as he analyzed your reaction.

You didn’t trust your voice so you merely nodded. It would have been easier to walk to your room by yourself, or with his hands still on you but actually looking where you were stepping.

The thought of walking slowly so you could savor the weight of his hands on your body was tempting. But Damian hated wasting time. And slow walkers.

Your room was underwhelming in comparison to your teammates’, in part because you didn’t have time to decorate and in part because you didn’t know what to do with the empty wall near the window therefore you couldn’t make up your mind about anything else.

“You can open any drawer you want,” you told him, ready to put the moment you had just shared to the side.

Damian gave you an incredulous look upon realizing you were being serious.

His eyes were as green as ever, watching you carefully as though he expected you to read his mind. Not for the first time, you wished you could.

His hands twitched on your ass. One of them softly caressed the area, drawing random patterns on your clothed asscheek.

“You can’t possibly think I brought you here to look for a stupid Christmas ornament.”

“So you brought me to my bedroom just to make out?”

”Let’s go with that,” he conceded. “I didn’t want us to be interrupted.”

“Can’t let the team know about your crush on me?” you teased him before you could fully realize what you were saying. It was fun banter, meaningless.

Damian turned serious. “I’m certain they know by now, but I would rather not get caught groping your ass in the middle of the kitchen.”

“Wait... so you hung the mistletoe?”

“No. But I’m not above admitting I should thank whoever did it.” He firmly rested his hands on your ass, pushing his hips against yours. “Now, can we stop talking?”

“Sure.” You kissed him this time, wrapping your arms around his neck.

Soon, he had you on his lap as he sat on your bed, humping him while he kissed your neck. He inched your sweater up, brushing your belly with his fingertips.

“I want you,” you whined, aware that he would leave marks on your neck.

“I’m here,” he deadpanned, nipping at your throat as he continued lifting your sweater.

You stopped moving your hips, lightly shifting on his lap in order for your hands to reach his belt. He didn’t stop you, so you went on and unbuckled his belt before undoing his pants.

Damian made you stand up, not for a moment taking his hands off you. In contrast, your neck already missed his plump lips.

He undid your jeans in a hurry, lowering them down your knees along with your panties.

Bluntly, he asked, “You need me to finger you first?”

Feeling your face heat up as he intensely gazed at you in expectancy of an answer, you pulled one of your hands off his body and parted your folds.

You found embarrassing how wet he made you. Only able to shake your head, you avoided looking at him directly.

“Use your words,” he commanded softly.

“No,” you whispered. He shuffled, lifting his hips to get rid of his pants and boxers. The gesture made your skin tingle, and as you kicked your shoes and jeans off, you added, “I don’t need you to finger me.”

Hissing, Damian held his cock for you, looking down as you placed your palm on top of the back of his hand. Your hand replaced his, and you softly caressed his cock.

“Condom?”

He stretched his arm, slanting his body to the side as he reached for his wallet. He handed the condom to you without a word, throwing his wallet onto the floor.

Once you had rolled the condom down his cock, his gaze lifted. You straddled him again, slowly gliding down. A groan spurted from within him as you took your time to push inch after inch of his cock inside you.

Damian’s eyes were on your face, refusing to lose any detail of your reaction as he entered you for the first time.

You moaned, leaning forward to kiss his cheek. He held you by the waist, holding his breath as you ever so slightly drove your hips forward.

The more you moved, the less he cared about whether he was loud or not. There hadn’t been signs of the team coming back, but you were certain Damian wouldn’t have cared either way.

He began moving his hips at your rhythm, only prompting you to roll your hips more enthusiastically as you sucked on his neck.

You tried to push him to lay down on the bed, but he stopped you, speaking softly. “Wait. It’s hot in here.”

Feeling empty as you moved away from his lap in order to get rid of your remaining clothes, you entertained yourself by admiring his body as he did the same.

Damian grabbed your hand, bringing you on top of him as he laid on his back. He kissed you, holding the back of your head with a hand as the other rested on your lower back.

Such placement made it extremely easy for him to roll you over so he could be on top, and the distraction his lips bestowed upon you a calculated move.

“Meanie,” you lightheartedly panted on his mouth.

He huffed a laugh, giving you a short kiss. “You seem to like it.” Damian dragged the tip of his cock along your folds, briefly teasing you before shoving it inside you.

He caressed your thighs as he started to thrust in slow strokes, teasing you some more as he controlled his breath.

Bottoming out, Damian tightened his grip on your thighs. He rolled his hips, and by your request started going faster.

You dropped your head onto the pillow, whimpering freely. This time you were the one who didn’t care if the tower was still empty.

His mouth hovered over yours. You were struggling to keep your eyes open, and by the way he was smiling at you, he surely knew.

“You look so beautiful right now,” he told you, lips brushing against yours. “Even more beautiful than in my imagination.”

You canted your hips up, desperate for more. More of him, of his voice, of everything he was willing to give.

And he granted you such wishes, picking up his pace, kissing you, gripping your thighs just the way you liked it even though he had no way to know.

Your nails dug into his back as you attempted to have him closer. It was impossible to do so, yet you had to give it a try.

“You’re gonna make me come,” you announced.

As though your words had been a demand for him to make you come already, he pressed his fingers on your clit and started rubbing as he thrust inside you.

Tired and spent, you felt his weight fall on top of your front. Damian kissed the side of your neck as he rested his head on your shoulder, breathing heavily.

Eventually, you softly pushed him off you and begrudgingly left the bed in direction to the bathroom.

You were washing your legs with the showerhead when Damian entered the bathroom. “There are clean towels in the second drawer if you also want to wash yourself,” you informed him.

He opened said drawer as you shut the water. He didn’t make any move for a moment, but he took a clean towel nonetheless.

You patted your skin dry, moving out of his way so he could use the shower.

“You had condoms here,” he observed.

“Well, I didn’t know which type of condom you preferred...”

“Oh, are those somebody else’s preferred ones?”

You slipped a clean pair of panties on. He watched you. “Please tell me you’re not actually angry because of this.”

“Your shower gel smells nice,” he opted for saying.

You hummed. “It’s new. I got tired of the blue one.”

Giving him privacy, you exited the bathroom and decided to check the mattress in case you needed to change the bedding.

Back in your bedroom, Damian silently put his boxers back on. He didn’t bother with his pants nor his shirt.

“I’m not angry,” he finally stopped avoiding the subject.

You tried not to frown. “You’re pouting.”

His expression turned blank. “I don’t pout.”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

“Come to the Christmas party with me.”

“I’ll be at the party either way.”

“Yes,” he gritted before inhaling deeply. “But I want you to be with me. As my date.”

“What would the difference be?” You didn’t understand why it was such a big deal. “We know everybody already.”

“For one, it would help me sleep at night.” He took you by the face with one hand, looking straight into your eyes. “Yes or no?”

“Yes.” Your voice sounded weird due to the pressure of his fingers on your cheeks

Damian gave you a sweet kiss, loosening his grip on your face to cup your cheek. You softly placed your hand on the back of his head, giving him another kiss. And another, and another, until you lost count.

#damian wayne x reader #damian wayne x plus size reader #damian wayne smut #damian wayne

463 notes · View notes

trashmenofmarvel · 3 years

Text

Branded - Chapter 57 (Final)

Pairing: Demon!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: You find your relic.

(This is a fan AU of Falling’s Just Another Way to Fly by araniaart . Please check out this incredible series for all of your demon Bucky needs.)

AO3

You’d only been to the ancient Sanctum a few times, with strict access to the library for your studies and nowhere else, and normally you would be excited to visit the unofficial headquarters of the Mystic Arts.

But now, as you followed Wong to the room of portals that would lead to the Nepal sanctum, your stomach twisted and your heart raced. You couldn’t even enjoy the fact this was where Strange had gone on his near-disastrous pilgrimage. The idea of the Ancient One kicking him out on his ass was an entertaining one, though you were still glad she eventually trained him. As irritated as you were about a lot of things regarding the former surgeon, he and Wong both had taught you nearly everything you knew.

Plus, you’d seen the scars on his hands. As arrogant and egotistical as he appeared, Strange had suffered to get where he was. Not unlike yourself. Not unlike Bucky.

The Orb of Agamotto hung within the circular room where other sorcerers consulted with it, verifying that the magical Earthly shields were still intact. Past them were three doors leading to the other sanctums, including the one in Kathmandu.

You and Bucky followed Wong through, the familiar feeling of displacement shifting your stomach and throwing you off balance for a moment. Neither Wong nor Bucky were as unsteady as you were. It had been something you were embarrassed about, but according to Strange during one of your lessons, it simply meant you were more sensitive to spatial displacement.

As Wong led you both through the ancient stone hallways, past the commons where other sorcerers were in training, doubt crept along your nerves. Someday, possibly sooner than you were prepared, all of these people were going to follow you. Look to you for guidance, for teaching. For protection.

How were you supposed to become the next Ancient One if you couldn’t even walk through a portal without getting dizzy?

This wasn’t going to work. The idea was crazy enough to begin with. The Ancient One had to be wrong. You were going to step into her office and nothing would happen. You would make a fool of yourself; you weren’t any more talented or skilled than any other sorcerer. Just half a year ago, you’d had no idea demons and magic were even real.

And now, you were expected to carry on the mantle as one of the most powerful sorcerers on Earth? How was that even possible? How could you ever be worthy enough to—

Wong opened a door using a complicated series of hand gestures, and as soon as you stepped through, your panicked mind fell silent. Energy thrummed along your skin, setting the hairs upright.

“Here it is.”

Wong’s announcement was unnecessary; you would know this place in your dreams, even though you had never been.

It was a simple room with a single large, circular window pointed towards the mountains over the city. Potted plants perched on most available surfaces that weren’t covered with books, scrolls, and odd knickknacks.

There was only a single writing desk pushed to the side, humble and unobtrusive. The rest of the room was empty space with a single well-worn green rug in the middle. But the plants made everything seem alive and verdant. It felt very much like a place the Ancient One would spend her time. It was a reflection of her, in a way. Quiet, but hidden with secret truths.

“Take a look around,” Wong said, but you were already moving. Slowly and with intense focus, you circled the room, reaching out and feeling, not with your hands but with your mind.

Odd and powerful energy pervaded the room, muted by spells but still apparent to you. They were coming from the artifacts that were laid out, seemingly casually, on the shelves and desks.

Most of them seemed as plain and unimportant as the room itself. A cracked vase with the lip stained red. A golden helmet that was varnished and faded, but two glittering horns jutted from the temples. A knobby staff with a smooth, grey stone fixed at one end, as modest as any walking stick except for the melodic hum that emanated from the stone. You had a feeling neither Wong nor Bucky could hear it.

But despite all the weird, wonderful oddities in your reach, you were drawn elsewhere. You approached one corner of the room where lay a pile of old scrolls and their cloth wrappings, and moved them aside with care to reveal what was hidden underneath.

It was a sword hilt. Just the hilt. There was no blade, not even a piece of broken metal. The metal was dulled with time and flaked with rust, the pommel grey and dirty.

You reached out and hesitated. Fingertips inches away, something stopped you. The knowledge that once you took hold of the relic, everything would change.

You glanced over your shoulder at Bucky.

He was watching you with close attention, as was Wong, but when he caught your eye he gave a small smile of encouragement. He supported you, even though he had to know what this meant, or at least had a good idea of it.

Not every sorcerer found their relic within the Ancient One’s study.

Comfort and warmth, so strong it could only be described as love, flooded across the bond and washed away your fears. You returned his smile, even if it was shaky, and you held on to that feeling as you turned back to the hilt.

You closed the distance, wrapped your fingers around the relic, and lifted it.

It was surprisingly heavy; that was your only observation before it began. The hilt thrummed in your palm, vibrating so fast you nearly dropped it.

The rust flaked away from the metal, leaving it polished and silver. The grey pommel was shaken of its dirt, and you realized it was white bone, the metal wrapping around it to form the grip and crossguard.

The thrumming didn’t stop, but you couldn’t let go even if you wanted to. Your fingers seized around the metal, energy teeming up your hand and arm. When it reached your right shoulder, all the way up to your pentagram, the sigil burned in a way it hadn’t done since the ritual.

Bucky must have sensed your panic because he rushed forward, but you backed away from him fast, instinct screaming at you to put a safe distance between you now.

It was a good thing you had; the energy from your sigil exploded down your arm, through your hand, and into the hilt. A burst of red light shot outward, forcing you to turn away from the blinding beam.

When the light dimmed and you could see again, blinking away the after images, you stared at the sword. That’s what it was now. A glowing red blade, seemingly made entirely of light. The energy that came from it was purely of the demon realm, scorching and sulfuric.

“What…” You choked the words past your dry throat. “What is this?”

There were only a handful of times you’d ever seen Wong shocked. So, that was three powerful sorcerers you’d rendered speechless in the span of a day.

“The blade of Hell, or so it is spoken. None in the history of the order had been able to unlock its powers, rendering it anything more than a broken hilt.” He leveled you with a somber stare. “It is called Daemonio Vexatur. Which means—“

“—to become a demon.”

Wong raised a brow.

“Rough translation, but yes.”

“So, it’s a demon sword?” asked Bucky, eyeing the glowing blade. He was understandably wary, and honestly, was accepting what was happening better than you were. You were still stuck on the fact that you were holding a glowing-freaking-sword in your hand.

“Yes. And no,” Wong said in traditional teaching-fashion. “A demon cannot wield it, but it takes demonic energy to power.”

“Oh. So that’s why my sigil and my entire arm feel like they’re on fire.”

Bucky’s mouth opened and he took a step forward, protectiveness sizzling along the bond, and you gave him a hurried smile.

“Kidding. Sort of.” You smiled wider through your clenched teeth. “It is really uncomfortable.”

Bucky’s dark look told you he didn’t believe you, and with what you imagined was coming from your end of the bond, you didn’t blame him. Holding the sword was like holding on to a live wire that was also burning. There was a molten jolt connecting the hilt to your sigil, and you were just hoping to not get incinerated in the process.

And just like that, the connection was gone, and the relief of your arm no longer being on fire was dimmed by the disappointment as the sword was extinguished, leaving nothing more than a gleaming hilt.

“What happened?” You frowned, eyeing the relic as if searching for an on switch.

“It will take time and training to effectively control your relic.”

“How long?” You looked up when Wong didn’t answer immediately, catching the serious dent in his brow.

“It’s hard to say. No one in living memory has wielded the blade, and it was believed no one ever would.”

Wong gave a heavy sigh.

“So of course, you would be the one to wield it.”

You returned your gaze to the relic and turned over the hilt in your hand, admiring the metal and bone. You wondered if the bone was from a demon, a safe bet considering.

“So.” You carefully put down the hilt and turned to give Bucky your best serious face. “How does it feel to have a wizard girlfriend with a lightsaber?”

Wong rolled his eyes. He knew you well enough by now to know what you were doing, but he didn’t comment on your attempts to over your fear with humor. He muttered something about reporting to Strange as he left the office.

But Bucky…

Worry and fondness conflicted across the bond, struggling to coexist. He stepped forward, the green cloth tunic he’d found in one of the drawers of your room stretched unfairly tight across his chest. It was the largest he could find in a hurry, and it was nearly enough to distract you from your own anxieties.

“I think…” Bucky wrapped his arm around you, drawing you into an embrace that you melted into easily. “That I’m scared for you. I’m confused as hell what this means, and I’m guessing this isn’t going to make your life any easier or less complicated. But… I’m also proud of you.”

You could sense the pride easily, but Bucky was trying to bury the fear that was close to terror. He truly was scared of what this meant. You were too, and the Ancient One’s words weighed heavily on your shoulders.

There was a questioning feeling tugging at your thoughts, and you remembered too late that Bucky could sense the same anxiety, even if he didn’t have all the details. So you smoothed out your tumultuous thoughts and covered them the best way you knew how.

“You say that to all the wizard girlfriends.”

“You’re deflecting.”

“That is what swords do.”

Bucky pulled back far enough to stare at you with narrowed eyes, but when he touched his horns to yours it was with such gentleness that you nearly forgot to breathe. But breathe you did, drinking in his familiar, soothing scent and allowed the tension to drain from your muscle.

“We should head back.” Bucky said after a moment of intimate, comfortable silence in which you finally relaxed. “Got a bastard to catch.”

You reluctantly let go first, knowing he was right and you couldn’t stay here forever. Turning toward the sword hilt, you reached for it and paused. You took a small detour and picked up an old, ratty cloth nearby and carefully wrapped the relic within. Until you had a better grasp of how to wield the sword, it was probably a wiser idea to not handle it directly. You had no idea if it was sentient like Strange’s cloak, and it would be better not to accidentally set it off. Slicing off your own leg was a poor way to convince anyone that you were the next Ancient One.

On your journey back down the halls toward the portal door, Bucky said, “So… what are you going to name it?”

He smiled at your sideways glance.

“All cool swords get a name. It’s kind of a universal rule.”

Maybe you didn’t know Bucky as well as you thought you did, because you had no idea he was such a damn nerd.

“Yeah? You’ll have to bestow all your sword knowledge on me.”

“Is that a sexual innuendo?”

“It is now.”

Bucky’s smile died on his lips when you were no longer at his side. He paused and looked back where you had stopped at the threshold to the portal room.

“What if I can’t do this?” The doorway before you was no longer just a doorway. It was an insurmountable hurdle, and your feet wouldn’t budge from the floor. “What if I fail?”

Bucky approached slow and steady, his expression gentle and fond.

“You won’t. You’re too stubborn to fail.” A warm hand softly cupped your cheek, his human one, and you leaned into it. He laughed silently at your predictable need to be touched, but his expression faded into something more serious. “But on the very slim chance you do, then you get back up and you start again. Just as you always have.”

Your stomach fell. Bucky couldn’t understand what failure meant in your case. You didn’t even know what it meant, but you could guess. If you failed to be the Ancient One everyone needed… then there might not be any second chances.

Bucky wrapped you in his arms one more time, undoubtedly sensing his words of encouragement hadn’t hit as effectively as he’d wanted.

“Whatever this means, you finding that relic… Whatever happens when we find Zemo...” Bucky’s voice was deep in his chest, a rumbling sound that never failed to comfort you. “I’ll be here.”

You returned his embrace, gripping him tightly as you pressed your cheek against his chest.

“I know.”

And you did, too. Bucky would be there for you. Not because he was compelled to be, and not out of a sense of duty or guilt to protect you. He would be by your side by choice.

And that fact made Zemo’s escape, the Ancient One’s words, and your own self-doubt a little easier to bear. Because you and Bucky would weather it.

Together.

“When wounds are healed by love, the scars are beautiful.” –David Bowles

#branded #demon!bucky x reader #demon!bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #my writing #my fanfiction

223 notes · View notes

lunarastrobabe · 3 years

Text

Joel Miller x F!Reader: Sleepless Night

(Fluff/Angst) (Age Difference) (Warning: Details of smut included)

Joel sat down on one of the chairs on his porch, clutching his guitar in one hand, and coffee in the other in his well-known owl mug. Letting out a heavy sigh, with tired eyes and set the guitar by his feet, taking a sip from his drink. He had struggled sleeping the past few nights due to the last patrol he had went on with [Y/N]. The memory of her getting jumped by runners and her cries for help traumatised him. Thanks to him, he saved her life. It wasn’t the first time he had saved her or risked his life to keep her safe, he was determined to protect her. Since that day, he’s been avoiding her. He had never spoken to her openly about his past, and he knows if these feelings keep growing, he would regret not talking sooner.

He remembered when she had arrived at Jackson a year and a half ago, being only 25 and having no family, she found it hard adjusting to new people, new faces. After a few months, she settled right in, getting to know Ellie and Dina and helping out on patrols with them every now and then, and having a brotherly-sisterly bond with Tommy. He took her in to his house, she didn’t know anybody and Joel was the first person she had met, feeling he was trustworthy.

Staring at the dark liquid he swirled it around in circles not noticing you had went looking for him, she stood in the doorway of the front door, her hand on the doorframe.

“Joel?” Her quiet tone was like music to his ears. Jackson was peaceful, most of the area was asleep, snow covered the ground like a blanket. He jumped a little at her presence, but relaxed realising it who it was.

“Evenin’.” He says, setting his almost empty mug of coffee on the small wooden table, which was now cold from the length of time he was lost in his thoughts. His voice was rough, feeling exhausted from the lack of rest.

“Can’t sleep?” She asked, closing the door behind her, keeping quiet as possible not to wake up the nearby neighbours and took a seat beside him. He shook his head at the question. “No.”

She pulled her jacket closer around her body and crossed her leg over the other. Joel shifted in his seat a little, clearing his throat. She looked over at him, watching the wind go through his soft, silver hair. His heart skipped a beat, feeling her eyes scanning him, he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees.

“I never said this before but,” She started, moving her hair from her face. “Thank you, for saving my ass again.” He turned his head, looking over at her, he had missed that smile, he had missed her laughter when they would patrol and she’d throw snowballs at him. Seeing her around Jackson, having that friendship with Ellie and Dina, offering to take dangerous patrol areas to keep the town safe. Risking her life multiple times to save others. The sound of her name or the sound of his name being spoken by her, feeling a sense of new-found love and happiness, something he missed experiencing a long time ago.

“S’alright darlin’.” He gave her a half smile, his hazel eyes filled with fear, and pain, he masked it well and she noticed. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from her, the way her eyelashes fluttered, or when her nose would scrunch up when it was cold, or when they would sit by the fireplace while he strummed his guitar.

“Um, Joel?” She looked at her lap and fiddled with her fingers. He sat up in his chair, his hands resting on his thighs. “Is everything okay? I haven’t .. seen you, for a while.” Her words had a nervous feeling to it. He exhaled heavily. He had to tell her what was going on in his mind, the thought of her blaming herself for his avoidance was already worrying him. He was the only one she trusted with anything, especially from the start. Every night, if she needed his comfort, his in particular, he would be there for her, he’d make coffee for her and sit with her and let her vent to him about anything that bothered her. He never wants her to feel alone, and during that time of knowing her, he fell in love, and he knew he was, he kept it inside, fear of losing her, like he had lost Sarah and Tess.

“Let’s go inside and talk this out.” He stood up, taking his guitar gently in his hand and the empty mug, guiding her back in the house. The heat from the lit fireplace warmed up the room. Kicking off his shoes, he set the guitar next to the couch, and went to the kitchen to make the coffee, keeping up the tradition. She sat on the couch and patiently waited for him to return, admiring the large bookcases. Sounds of spoons clinking together and the shuffling of his feet across the floor made her smile.

Joel returned, holding two mugs of hot coffee and placing them on coasters on the small coffee table. Her eyes watched his every move, thanking him for the drink, smiling to herself, he remembered to put some cinnamon in her drink, that being her favourite. The curtains were shut and there was silence between the both of them, the fire was the only sound in the room. She sat cross-legged and turned her body to face his, holding the mug in her hands tightly warming up her cold fingertips, waiting for him to explain.

He sat there for a while, figuring out how to explain his behaviour to her, the guilt inside of him eating him away. A sad expression washed across his face. She frowned and looked down at her drink.

He set his mug on the coaster again, letting out a sigh and looking over at her. He felt her eyes burning into him, as if they were looking into his soul. “That day, when the infected attacked you,” He always found it hard expressing his true feelings when it came to people he cared deeply about, afraid that more loss and more pain would return. She listened to him, she really listened, understanding every word he was saying. “watching you struggle and cry, it-, it terrified me. Terrified of what would happen if, I hadn’t stopped it.” A glistened look covered his eyes, he kept his composure, trying to stop himself from breaking down.

She set her mug beside his, taking in what he had just told her. As he continued, “I’ve had, a great deal of loss, fighting to survive all these years, but, also fighting to protect you,” He rubbed his bearded chin with his hand. “I don’t want those things, out there, to turn you into one of them.” He pointed to the window, gesturing to outside. His thick Texan accent growing deeper, the difficulty expressing this made his stomach flutter.

She swallowed the lump in her throat, feeling touched by his words and realising, she meant more to him than he let on. She was patient with him, knowing he was closed off, always kept to himself, no matter the situation. He was more worried about the feelings and well-being of others than his own.

“But, why me?” She asked softly, he knew she appreciated everything he’s done and still doing for her and for her safety. Her actions of being there for him when he needed her was enough proof. Actions speak louder than words. His brows furrowed at her question. Keeping her eyes down, away from looking into his eyes.

“You go through near-death experiences when it’s us together, you’ve slain multiple clickers and bloaters, you’re so hell-bent on keeping me as close as possible to you. There are other people who need more protection than I do.” She felt guilty for causing him to put himself through horrible situations, feeling like she was forcing him to look after her. “I just, feel like a burden.” She bit her lip, worried at his response.

“Look at me,” He whispered in a raspy tone. When she refused to look into his eyes, he spoke once again. “Darlin’.” That little pet name was a little secret that only they knew about. He reached over, tucking hair behind her ear and turning her face to look at him, a hand resting on her cheek. His large, warm, rough hands felt like a security blanket to her. All the anxiety and stress he felt, washed away when his skin came into contact with hers.

“You ain’t ever been a burden.” His eyes stared into hers, all he ever wanted to do was love her, make her feel special. His body shifted position. She had no trouble opening up to him in the past, he knew her like the back of his hand, he knew about her family, her childhood, the trauma she experienced, he felt deeply connected with her, they both had experienced loss.

There have been times where he’s had thoughts of making love to her, just to hold her close to his body, being as gentle as possible. The dream of pushing her against the wall, both their hands hungrily grabbing at each others clothes to tear them away. Her pushing him closer to press his hard-on against her core, to feel how much he wanted her. Grabbing at her thighs as she’d grind herself against him, her soaked panties staining his jeans. Curiosity being a main factor, wishing to know what she tasted like and what he tasted like between the sheets. To graze his lips across her skin, to feel her body tense up underneath him when hitting her high, her nails digging into his skin as he pushed in and out of her. He longed to hear her soft moans, her calling his name as he made her his own, tangling fingers through her hair. He never wanted to let her go. She had never laid with a man before, as she had told him subtly in the past. She had been having those thoughts and feelings towards him just as much as he did. Her having no experience with sex in general speak, in her mind, she knew exactly what she would do.

He took her face in his hands, rubbing her cheek with his thumb, he didn’t like feeling vulnerable, but it was overpowering, he wanted to kiss her, right there, right now. She slowly moved her position and kneeled in front of him, his hands sticking to her like glue. She moved little bit closer.

“You promise?” She whispered, his skin covered in goosebumps, feeling the closeness of their faces just inches apart. Her lips hovering over his.

“Yes.” He replied. She was now in a crawling position, her hands finding their way into his lap then moving them to his grey t-shirt, running her hands up his chest and finally resting them on his shoulders. His breath was shaky, waiting for it to finally happen.

And there it was, his lips brushed against hers, his facial hair tickling her mouth. It was slow and innocent at first, his body tensed but relaxed, both getting used to what was happening in the moment. He pulled back for a moment, feeling a little embarrassed at the sudden urge. His eyes flickered from her eyes to her lips. Licking his own, wanting to taste her fully, she wrapped her arms around his neck, leaning her body weight on his chest, his arms snaked their way around her waist, holding her tight, worried if he let go, she would disappear. She let out a slight giggle, leaving him with a comforted feeling that she wasn’t rejecting him.

“Kiss me again, cowboy.” The use of the word ‘cowboy’ surged through his veins, kissing her once again, his tongue diving in taking dominance. His grunts and her moans against the kiss was too much to bare. Feeling beads of sweat on his forehead and her heavy panting, he pulled back and looked once again in her eyes.

“Take me.” She ran her fingers across his lips, his mouth curving at the side with a smile.

“You sure?” His fingers ran up and down her sides.

“Show me what you’ve got.” Replying as she kissed the corner of his mouth.

That burning feeling of lust, desire and attraction possessed them. Feeling a sense of love in his heart, he felt whole.

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #the last of us 1 #the last of us 2 #the last of us #the last of us part 2 #the last of us part two #the last of us ii #tlou1 #tlou2 #tlou #naughty dog #x reader

209 notes · View notes

lubdubsworld · 3 years

Text

Change of Heart

Pairing : Taehyung x OC

[ Summary :

Times are changing.

After years of being oppressed, werewolves are taking a stand against humans , demanding equal rights and fair treatment. Heading the movement is Kim Taehyung, the breathtaking heir to the Kim fortune and one of the few remaining Alpha werewolves in the country. His disdain for the human race is well known and well warranted. They killed his family after all…..

He wants to change the world , to put humans in their place but when his five year old daughter takes a shine to their very human neighbor , maybe he has to start with a change of heart , first. ]

Pairing : Taehyung x OC

Genre : Romance, Explicit Content.

Warnings : None. ( Some mild violence but mostly off screen )

Chapter 1 / Chapter 2 / Chapter 3

Chapter 4

The Preserve had originally been an isolated island about 50 miles off the coast of the mainland. Over the decades, the land had been expanded with man made floats serving to support the extra buildings and complexes that cropped up to cater to the small human population that stuck around to help out.

The wolves still kept to the interiors, most of them having built huge cottage-villas which could house the entire pack, territories marked out clearly to avoid disputes. A few of the very traditional ones lived on the huge mountains that lined the northern end, opting to stay in their wolf-forms most of the time.

The island itself was beautiful, rich vegetation , a thriving fauna and a landscape that was lined with beautifully stark cliffs up high and private little coves and beaches scattered below.

Taehyung and his daughter lived on a beautiful beach side villa, which had its own vegetable garden , a staff of over 8 to take care of everything, a private jetty for trips to the mainland and a helipad/ airstrip.

True to his word, Taehyung did not stay around most days. He was busy with his campaign and I spent the first week recovering. The doctor visited everyday and by the end of the week, most of the internal injuries were healing well, the pain well managed with meds.

Luna had moved into my room, pretty much and I spent the days with her curled into my side, reading from her favorite books, stopping when she encountered a particularly difficult word, ebony eyes turning to mine for help. We read countless books, and she introduced me to all her best friends : Mr. Ted the bear, Kihyun the bunny and Momo the panda. The stuffed animals had a small baby carrier of their own and she liked carting them all around the house.

“She was really pretty. Mama....” Luna whispered one night, as we lay curled on the window seat in my room, a fur throw covering us up as we stared out into the rocky beach far below.

I felt my heart lurch in shared grief.

“Was she? What else do you remember about her....?” I asked softly.

“Her scent. “ Luna said quickly. “ She smelled just like you. Like home and fresh cookies with sugar sprinkles. And rainy puddles you can jump in.”

I bit my lips, mindful that Luna was just listing her favorite things. I didn’t know much about how weres scented other weres or humans. But i supposed it made sense that her mother’s scent should remind her of things that offered her comfort and joy.

But her next words threw me for a loop.

“Daddy didn’t like her much....” She said suddenly and I felt my throat close up .

“Oh-Oh?” I was genuinely shocked. Taehyung had looked devastated when he had told me about his wife’s passing....

Luna shook her head.

“My friend from school, Mina? Her mommy’s still alive and her daddy likes her. They kiss and stay in the same room. Mommy and Daddy never kissed. Mommy lived on the east wing.... That’s on the other side. Near the rose gardens.”

I bit my lips, feeling incredibly guilty for some reason. This information felt somehow private and not for stranger’s ears. I didn’t want Luna to get into trouble for saying this to me .

“I miss her sometimes. I’m glad you’re here.” She sniffled and i felt my heart crack in two. The girl was replacing her mom with me, I thought miserably. I couldn’t in good conscience let this happen.

But as the days stretched into weeks, with Taehyung out and busy most of the time, i couldn’t bring myself to leave. Luna did appear to be calmer, more grounded and happier with me around. She liked staying close to me, at touching distance and she often buried her nose into my neck, sniffing till I had to gently pry her off.

Although, absent physically, Taehyung called every day. He facetimed his daughter twice at least and I got a call every night at exactly nine. It was usually curt and formal but he did tell me what he was upto.

“The elections are coming up soon.... I need to work a bit more on the immediate reforms we’re planning to launch...I won’t be available this week, Luna’s keeping well?”

“Yes, she is. We made a modern recreation of red riding hood and the wolf today with play dough.”

Silence.

“Interesting choice of fairy tale, Mi Rae ssi...” He drawled.

I flushed at how my name sounded in that voice.

“It’s a bit different plot wise. In this case, the granny is just a meanie who likes to order Red about and the wolf is the one who rescues her.” I grinned.

He chuckled amicably.

“Bit of a stretch , that. But I’m glad you’re happy. I didn’t want to pressure you too much and i know its asking way too much of you . But Ms. Lee says that Luna is happier than she’s ever been and I do believe you’re the one I have to thank for that. “

I bit my lips. I wanted to tell him that Luna was getting way too attached. That I was afraid of what would happen when it was time for me to leave, but already i could hear voices in the background, people calling for his attention and I remembered that he was doing something important.

He was trying to build a better world for his little girl.

In the long run, all of this would be for Luna’s benefit only.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

it had been nearly a month since I’d last seen Taehyung . A whole three months since I’d moved into his villa. My paycheck as a nanny was three times what I was paid as a lab tech. But I hadn’t stopped working at the research facility either. I spent the days there, when Luna was busy with her school work . The vaccine had been successful but somehow, my father’s company had pulled some sort of nonsense with the patenting and not everyone had got the shorts.

I stared out into the murky blue waters as they crashed into the jagged black rocks that lined the private beach. The huge bay windows in the living space offered an unfettered view of the rocky beach.

Next to me, Luna was pretty much bouncing around, trying to find all her beach day toys. I watched her fondly, feeling something squeeze my heart when I thought about not seeing her again. The elections were done, the results were due any day now and Taehyung had already told me that he was looking to end this arrangement soon.

Luna had a mind like no other. A vibrantly curious child with the most incredible questions, it was clear that she adored her father more than anything else in the world. In the evenings, she liked to play near the small water inlet that fed into the Ocean. The water was shallow, barely an inch or so deep, the terrain covered in small smooth pebbles in every shade of brown of grey.

Luna and I spent most of the weekends exploring the small beach around the villa, foraging around in the coves while her caregiver watched me covertly from a distance. She clearly didn’t trust me much, but I tried not to let it get to me.

I wasn’t here to stay. Taehyung had sent me a mail the previous week, letting me know that I was no longer had to babysit, because he was planning to move to Seoul himself. He would be renting out a condominium there and hiring a full time nanny.

And that was fine. it wasn’t like i hadn’t seen that coming. I had a life of my own and i had to get back to it. My cottage near the research facility was fixed now and I was looking forward to getting back to my life, no matter how much it hurt to leave Luna behind.

I was a little upset that he had sent an impersonal mail to me instead of talking to me in person. Or maybe spoken about it over the phone at least. But I knew that he was just trying to make it easier for me to cut all ties.

Okay, fine, maybe I was a little bit bitter that Taehyung hadn’t even offered to hire me to take care of Luna . I wasn’t qualified , yes, but so far Luna had been a dream to stay with. She was so inquisitive and bright, so full of sunshine and happiness.

After three months of her unconditional love for me, the idea of not coming home to her vibrant laugh and endless giggles, it just felt so painful.

“Rae Rae, let’s gooooo....” Her voice broke me out of my thoughts . Despite endless protests from Ms. Lee, Luna insisted on calling me Rae Rae and I found it adorable.

I jumped a little, hastily moving to grab the sunscreen, the hat and gloves. While Luna did heal quickly courtesy her wolf-y genes, she was also incredibly prone to sunburn. The first few times, she had promptly shifted into her wolf form when i tried to put it on her, snipping my fingers angrily. The chemical was supposed to be unscented but her sensitive nose had clearly picked it up anyway.

It took a lot of bribing with delicious meat patties and steak bites, for the girl to shift back and let me apply it on her.

But now she was comfortable with letting me apply it on her when we went to the beach.

She picked up her backpack, a baby blue fur lined affair with twin bunny ears near the handle , and the small tote bag full of her collection of seashells and skipped out of the room happily. I finished packing the rest of her beach stuff : towels, napkins, hair pins and a change of clothes just in case.

We were just climbing down the huge stairwell, when Taehyung’s voice rang through the foyer, startling me badly. i hadn’t seen him in a long time and against my better judgement I almost half ran back to put some make up on at least. I probably looked like an ogre with smeared sunscreen and my hair uncombed and in a bun.

“Lu - Lu? Baby???” He called out, his deep voice pretty much reverberating off the walls .

“DAAAADAAAAAA”

I watched her almost tumble headlong the stairs in her rush to get into her father’s arms and I hung back, letting them have their reunion.

I waited till Taehyung called out for me, before moving to greet him as well.

The first thing that stuck me was how incredibly handsome he looked, hair now fully black, swept straight back from his forehead. He was dressed in skinny jeans and a loose black shirt, buttons undone to show the lines of his pecs and a pair of dangly earrings caught the light as he turned to stare at me.

“Mi Rae ssi....i see you’re all ready for Beach day?” He grinned softly.

There was something radiant about him, a definite lack of anxiety. He looked relaxed almost.

“You won?” i blurted out. “ You won didn’t you?”

Taehyung’s eyes glinted .

“Its not officially announced yet, but yes, the Commission called me today . They think I’ve won by a landslide.

Before I could rethink my impulse, I flung myself into his arms, genuinely thrilled beyond belief.

“RThat’s so incredible, Taehyung ssi...i’m so happy for you and-”

“Tae? Should I get the other suitcase?”

The female voice made me jolt, and I pulled away, arm still arapped around his neck, intensely aware of his hands on my waist.

Three feet away from us , stood an incredibly beautiful young woman. She was almost as tall as Tae, probably the same age as him and her eyes flashed red when she looked at me.

I flinched, stepping back like i’d been scalded.

“Just leave it sweetheart, one of my men will get it. Come meet my little girl.” Taehyung said casually, shooting me one brief intense look of.....anger? annoyance? I couldn’t figure it out.

Sweetheart? did he just call her-

Luna had shuffled to hide behind my legs now, her fingers gripping my waist as she refused to greet the newcomer.

“Luna, this is Ms Jihyun. She’s a very good friend of mine.”

Jihyun dropped to her knees, eyes flashing red again as she smiled a tight lipped smile.

“Hello, Luna. How are you doing?” She said seriously. Luna’s grip on me tightened.

“She’s a little shy.” I choked out, trying to tamp down the rising sense of heartbreak. No. i had actively fought against feeling this way. Every night here, I had told myself that I would not think about Kim Taehyung. Admiring him for what he did , for how hard he worked for his kind....that was one thing ....but this. This was madness.

Taehyung reached out around me to lift Luna up into her arms.

“How about we go to the beach with Jihyun and Ms Lee today?” He said casually, holding his hand out to me.

I almost did something stupid, like press my hand into his before realizing that he was asking for the bag i had over my shoulders. Wordlessly, I handed it over.

“I want to go with Rae Rae....” Luna said sharply, lips jutting out in a petulant little pout.

“Well, Appa and Ms. Rae need to talk about something and once we’re done, I’ll join you there okay?” He ruffled her hair softly and then gently placed her back down.

Luna gave me an imploring look.

“Are you leaving me?” Her lips wobbled.

I shook my head instinctively.

“Of course not baby, I’ll be right there. Just a few minutes, okay? Don't forget your sunscreen.” I smiled and Luna pouted again but moved to Ms. Lee’s side hesitantly.

Taehyung waited till the three of them began leaving before turning to me.

“Thank you.” He said quietly , gaze moving to me with the same intensity, and this time I knew what he was doing. He was trying to gauge what I was thinking and I remembered, weakly that Alpha wolves could sometimes sense moods, changes in a person’s body temperatures and things like that. It wasn’t like mind reading or anything but a perceptive enough werewolf could definitely guess what kind of mood someone was in.

I fought to keep my face neutral. There wasn’t much I could do about how clammy and cold my entire body had gone after meeting Jihyun. It wouldn’t take a rocket scientist to guess why I didn’t l;ike Jihyun there.

“It’s not you.” He said gently.

I swallowed.

“Sorry?”

“You’re beautiful. If we were.... the same kind of people.....I wouldn’t be saying this. But because of who we are.... I’m going to say it. It’s not a good idea.” He whispered.

I flushed, feeling like my entire body had been dipped in ice cold water.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I said evenly.

He hummed.

“If you leave today, there’s a job waiting for you in the Research Center. It’s a level up from what you’re doing right now. I’ve asked them to put up extra security around your cabin and I’ve talked with the wolves here. No one will come anywhere near you. “

I nodded bleakly.

“Thank you.” I said quietly.

“You’re going to forget me and Luna in a few weeks. And I would rather that things end now, before Luna becomes more attached.”

I nodded.

“Can i talk to her before I leave?” I asked softly.

He hesitated.

“I don’t.... I mean, I would rather not have Jihyun be present for that. She’s.... well she’s someone I’m getting to know and she may feel -”

I wanted to kick myself in the face for ever having agreed to this whole thing.

“I understand. I’ll be back tomorrow morning to get the rest of my stuff and to say goodbye to Luna.” I said shortly.

Before he could reply, I brushed past him and ran up to my room. I had to get out of here as soon as I could.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Luna cried inconsolably and I was eternally grateful that no one else was there when I carefully unpacked the huge carton of snacks and toys , I’d packed for her. Taehyung had made things a little easier, by telling Luna that it wasn’t me who was leaving but it would be them. They were going to a new place so they would be leaving me behind because I had stuff to do here.

“I’m not going to be gone completely. I’m going to come visit you as often as I can alright and look....” I pulled out the small phone I’d brought her.

She stopped sniffling and held her hand out. I placed the flip phone in her hands.

“Theres just two numbers there. See the picture of the wolf? Thats daddy..... And see the one with the flower.....that’s me. If you want to talk to either of us, all you need to do is press this button.”

Luna hesitated.

“Daddy said, I can’t have any phones.” She said hesitantly. What a wonderful child, i thought fondly.

“Yes, but this isn’t the kind of phone that could hurt your eyes. It’s just a talking phone. Besides, your daddy already knows and he’s okay with it.” I smiled.

She nodded, turning the little device over and over in her hands.

“Daddy say’s we’re going to the city. Why don’t you want to come?” She said angrily and i sighed.

“Its not that I don’t want to come, baby. It’s just that my home is here. I help take care of the little pups here remember? Some of them get sick and I help make them better....” I smiled, ruffling her hair.

She nodded.

“Good girl...Now how about we go see the sandcastle you built yesterday...? See if it’s still there?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Life went on and I found myself busy enough to not dwell on Taehyung too much. The vaccines were rolling out much faster now and most of the cases were milder . i spent the days in the research center and went home to my cozy cabin. Taehyung had been true to his word an an electric fence ran around the perimeter , twelve feet tall . A security guard stayed near the gate at all times, a beta werewolf named Minjun.

Two weeks after Taehyung had moved out of the island, a distraction arrived in the form of one Jeon Jungkook . He was a year younger than me and finishing his internship before becoming a radiologist. He was smart , handsome and an alpha wolf with a deceptively cute bunny like smile.

Jungkook liked following me around when we had free time and I found his incessant noona , noona...endearing. But I was also not an idiot.

Jungkook was looking for a fuck buddy and I was convenient. The only female in the research center. Werewolves didn’t do one night stands with each other, because being intimate always left a scent and it would make things messy. So weres generally went to humans for no strings attached sex.

It wasn’t that I minded , but a part of me was terrified i would do something stupid. Like call him Taehyung in the middle of us fucking.

But of course, stupid decisions were my forte.

So I did end up sleeping with him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Well, you look miserable.” Jimin commented mildly, as I stumbled forward to the counter. I hadn’t slept much the previous night and had nearly missed the ferry to the mainland in the morning.

“I’m fine oppa. Just frazzled. Give me something strong but sweet...” I begged, riffling through my bag for my wallet. Outside, the rain poured in torrents. I was still dripping water from my hair and my jacket, although I’d been out of the rain for a whole five minutes.

“Taehyung’s been asking about you....Why don’t you pick his calls?” Jimin said casually and I flinched.

“I did pick his calls. a couple of times....” I muttered .

That had been a whole experience. Taehyung had called me two weeks back, frothing at the mouth about something.

Apparently, Ji Hyun the lovely girlfriend that Kim Taehyung like flaunting all over town, was also the older sister on one Jeon Jungkook. And because we had had sex the previous night, Jungkook had smelled like me when he visited Taehyung and Ji hyun. Even Luna had picked up on the scent.

How on earth was i supposed to know?

Taehyung had been so furious that I’d hung up the phone midway through.

“And, what happened?”

I shrugged.

“And then I got busy. Why? I’ve been talking to Luna... I even met her a couple of times. It’s not like I have any other reason to talk to him.... “ I protested.

Jimin hummed.

“He’s still seeing that model. Jeon Ji hyun? I heard her brother works in the Research center?” Jimin raised an eyebrow, sliding my drink across the counter. I stepped out of the line but stayed near the counter, staring at him. Damn it. Had Taehyung actually told Jimin about it?

“Jungkook? Yeah. He’s a doctor... He’s doing his MD , radiology and he’s here for exposure , apparently...”

“Alpha?” Jimin continued flitting about, making orders but his tone held a note of sympathy.

I shrugged.

“Yeah, he is. But we don’t talk much. We went out one night but then he’s been aloof ever since.” I shrugged again hoping that Jimin was buying my nonchalant act. i still didn’t know how much he knew.

Jungkook was a nice guy and I was a little peeved that he didn’t seem to want anything more than a friends with benefits thing. But that had less to do with him and more to do with the fact that men, in general, never seemed to consider me as a potential girlfriend.

But then, the poor guy was in probably the most crucial part of his education. Relationships were probably the farthest thing from his mind.

Jimin stopped when the last customer in the line left. He stared at me.

“Taehyung told me Luna called you one morning and Jungkook picked the phone.”

I froze.

“What?!” I hissed, completely thrown. This, I hadn’t known.

“You went out? With Jungkook? And he stayed over , I’m guessing....I’m going to go out on a limb and say that you guys did not play Jenga all night?” He glared at me. I flushed.

“Fine. We slept together. We are sleeping together....its just consensual sex between two willing parties, . It’s no big deal.” I said flippantly.

“You don’t think that’s why Taehyung has been calling you? That’s his potential brother in law right there. It’s too messy. I think you should stop. ” He frowned.

I rolled my eyes.

“Listen it has nothing to do with me. I’m not going to marry Jungkook okay? I’m not going to be calling Taehyung my brother in law either. Its not going to happen. i just had this...stupid king of crush on him and he knew about it. He turned me down too, did he tell you that. He told me him and I were too different.... meaning I wasn’t a were so he wouldn’t consider being with someone like me. ”

Jimin groaned.

“you know why he feels that way. Don’t make this about you. It’s not personal.”

“Then why is it spilling into my personal life? I have no obligation to him. I can sleep with who I want.....”

Jimin rolled his eyes.

“Taehyung’s a were. He’s not going to see it that way.”

“Well, I don’t give a damn how he sees it, I’m having sex with a handsome young man who is attracted to me. That’s a good time, right there and I’m not going to stop having a good time just because it offends Taehyung’s delicate sensibilities.” I snapped.

Jimin shrugged.

“Just don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When I went back to my cabin that evening, I found Minjun missing from his usual place near the gate. The gate was still locked so I didn’t think too much about it, merely slotting the rusty old key into the huge lock and prying it open.

I made my way to the door, opening it carefully.

i nearly jumped out of my skin when I saw who was there.

“what the- Seo Joon?” I said in disbelief, stumbling back when the tall alpha stumbled to his feet from where he was lounging on the couch.

“Well, look who’s here....if it isn’t the slutty little bitch who wants to sleep her way through every were on the island....First Taehyung and now Jungkook.....you sure know who to pick, huh.....? All powerful, influential wolves..... “ He slurred.

I stared at him. This wasn’t good. I turned on my heel, ready to run back out but he was faster than me. I groaned when he slammed into my back pinning me to the door with so much force that the wood splintered,.

While my bruised ribs had healed, they still hurt a bit. And the force of his actions left my mind reeling from the pain.

“Get off me!! “ I screamed, “ MINJUN!!!!! MINJUN HELP!!!”

“SHUT THE FUCK UP YOU WHORING BITCH!!!”

He slapped me right across the face, the strength of it sending me crashing into the side table. I whimpered as I tried to get on my feet, fingers fumbling for my phone .

“it was you wasn’t it? I was supposed to be the deputy minister.... Taehyung’s supposed to be my fucking friend. instead i got fired like some lowly runt ...... It was you wasn’t it? you convinced him that humans are our fucking friends....”

I shook my head, frantic.

“No...i swear I’ve not spoken to Taehyung...i didn’t say anything... Seo Joon please don’t...” I screamed when he reached down and grabbed my hair, yanking me to my feet till my scalp felt like it was on fire.

“Maybe I should fuck you too....since that's the thing people seem to be doing these days....Its because of your father isn’t it? That bastard has been all over the news, talking these past few weeks about how his precious daughter is doing a lot of work for the welfare of wolves....Maybe I should fuck his daughter too.... ” He began, reaching for my blouse.

I barely registered the nonsense about my father before a loud sound broke through the din.

The door swung open and the sound of gunfire made me scream.

I stared at the door only to see the security guard staring at us with wide eyes.

Minjun , panicked and completely overwhelmed , had blindly opened fire on both of us.

I felt the touch of the bullet to my shoulder, before the blinding explosion of pain.

But he seemed to have hit Seo Joon as well, enough times for the were to let go of me and I crashed to floor, clutching my shoulder in agony.

The sound of gunfire had attracted more people and through the throng I heard Jungkook’s voice.

“Noona.... Mirae noona is that you----???”

“Kookie!!” I croaked out desperately. Jungkook’s eyes went wide when he saw, me, pushing his way past the other wolves before letting out a snarl. The sound seemed to make the others cower and I remembered that he was an alpha too.

I gripped his arms when he reached me.

“Don’t tell Taehyung...” I gasped out, still clutching my shoulder.

“God, what the fuck.... We need to get you out of here...” He was already dialing for the ambulance. I waited for him to finish, gasping from the pain. Fuck, it hurt like hell.

“We’re going to get you to the research center first.” Jungkook said frantically.

I nodded, stumbling to my feet when he tried to lift me up.

“It’s okay...just...get me something to …” But he was already peeling off his shirt, wadding up to press against the bleeding bullet hole .

“Hyung is going to kill Seo Joon.” He said grimly.

For once, I didn’t particularly care.

My mind raced because I hadn’t thought about my father in years.

What did that tyrant want with me now??

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Author’s Note : Me trying to finish all my fics and not lose my mind in the process :’(

#taehyung #taehyung fics #taehyung sm #taehyung fanfic #bts smut #bts fics #taehyung smut #taehyung au #taehyung x y/n #bts x oc #bts werewolf au #taehyung werewolf au

250 notes · View notes

freddie-weaselbee · 3 years

Text

Capture the Flag//F.W.

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Fem!Slytherin!Reader

Warnings: Language, Cedric hate (but like loving hate)

Summary: The big capture the flag game had commenced, and Fred quickly found himself captured and thrown into the other team’s slammer. Little does he know he has a cellmate who’s willing to do whatever it takes to win, even if that means teaming up with a Gryffindor.

Prompts: Detention/Being Detained with dialogue prompts “oh well fuck me then,” and “half the time I get too embarrassed to say anything”

Word Count: 5.1k

A/N: Day 6 of @theweasleyslut‘s 2k writing challenge --au where there’s no voldemort so Cedric’s alive and let’s say Umbridge never existed--

Fred had almost gotten away with it. If it weren’t for that meddling Hufflepuff Cedric Diggory and his band of stupid cronies.

“You’ll pay for this, you hear me?” he yelled out, but the handful of boys dragging his body across the grounds just snickered and ignored him.

“Oh shut it, Fred,” said Cedric, walking in front of the group. “You got caught. Rooky mistake. Now, you get to face time.”

Fred groaned, letting his shoes scuff in the dirt in hopes of slowing the boys down, or at least annoying them. It was his own fault he had ended up in this situation. He had gotten too reckless, trying to take on a group of Ravenclaws all by himself. He should’ve known it would’ve been a trap.

The official student Capture the Flag game was a tradition amongst all Seventh Years that took place the spring right before they graduated. It was completely student-run, mostly because if the teachers found out they would shut it all down, but that did mean that the students could be as creative and brutal as they wanted. Fred, pioneer of horrible pranks and traps that attacked the opposing team, was a prime target for capture.

The gang of opponents that had captured Fred was slowing now, having reached their destination. In front of him, Fred saw Hagrid’s hut now painted yellow and blue, the house colors of team one. Hagrid was nowhere to be seen, but Fred figured he probaby would be fine with the vandalism of his hut as long as they cleaned it up once they were done, and with magic that would be fairly easy.

“Into the slammer,” one Hufflepuff boy snickered, opening the door and throwing Fred in. “We have one guard watching the hut. Any attempted escapes in which you’re caught result in a one hour penalty from the game, but if you manage to escape without notice--”

“I know the rules,” Fred muttered. “My older brother bloody made them 10 years ago.”

Cedric, who had been standing outside the door, smiled wryly. “See you soon, Weasley. I’ll make sure you’re the first to see us carrying your flag back to our home base.”

Fred mouthed along to what Cedric was saying with a mocking expression plastered to his face. “This isn’t over yet Diggory!”

The other boy just snickered before slamming the door shut and locking it from the outside. Fred raced to one of the windows which had been boarded up for the game. He was able to peak out a hole between two of the boards. Cedric and the other boys were making their way back into the forest, whooping and slapping each other’s backs in celebration. The leader of the group spotted Fred watching them, and before he and his friends disappeared into the trees he cupped his hands over his mouth and called back one more thing.

“Enjoy some one on one time with the other inmate!”

Fred was confused by what Cedric had just said. Other inmate? What could he possibly…

For the first time, Fred actually looked around the small hut and was surprised to see a girl, clothed in black pants and an emerald green top, headband, and facepaint laying down on the couch, feet thrown over the armrest. “Hello.”

He stepped back for a second, hesitant and fearful. “Y/N? What are you doing here?”

You gave him an ‘are-you-stupid’ look before sitting up. “Same as you.”

Fred mentally smacked himself for being so dumb. When deciding which houses were on which teams, the four names were thrown into a hat and then two were pulled out at a time. This year, against the wishes of every single person in both houses, Gryffindor and Slytherin were on the same team, which meant Fred was staring at one of his teammates dressed head to toe in your signature house color.

Still skeptical, as most Gryffindors were of Slytherins, he sidestepped over to a nearby chair, eyes never leaving you. Your face shone with amusement at his obvious fear, and it only made you all the more confident. Godric how he hated that.

“I’m not gonna bite, Freddie, you can join me on the couch. It’s much more comfortable than Hagrid’s huge chairs.”

Fred’s face tinted red at the nickname. He couldn’t remember the last time you had spoken to him, much less called him Freddie. It made him slightly uneasy, how comfortable and self-assured you were. It always put him on edge.

Eventually, after a few moments of silence and pondering, Fred decided that joining you on the couch would be fine. You were teammates after all, and what was the worst you could do to him? He sat down, stretching as far away from you as possible.

You cocked an eyebrow, scooting closer to him as a test. He flinched away.

“Bloody hell,” you said, moving back to your original position, “you really are afraid of me aren’t you?”

He didn’t say anything. What could he say? You always made him speechless, for reasons he never understood, heart beating faster whenever you were near. He assumed it was out of fear. You were sorted into the evil house after all.

“My friends all called it too,” you continued, smiling a dazed smile. “They always said that you would get weird around me, something you never did with anyone else. Am I really that terrifying? Afraid I’m gonna bite you in your sleep?” Your eyes shone as you teased him, and he couldn’t decide if it made him want to relax and talk to you or get the hell out of there immediately.

You leaned your head toward him again, but this time he didn’t move away. You seemed to study him, looking his face and body up and down as if you were taking mental notes of every part of his person.

“For someone so incredibly loud, you don’t seem to talk much when I’m around.”

“I…” He trailed off, words catching in his throat.

“Well, that’s gonna have to change if we’re gonna get out of here.” You clapped your hands together and stood up, brushing the dirt off your pants and fixing your ponytail. “What’s the plan, prank man?”

He stared at you dumbfounded, even more so than he was before. You reached out your hands to pull him off the couch and he reluctantly took them, brows still furrowed in confusion. “The plan?”

“There we go, I got ya talking!” You cheered loudly, beaming at your teammate. “And yes, the plan. For how we’re gonna, y’know, get out of here and get the flag and beat all these losers.”

Fred’s throat was suddenly dry. A plan? You expected him to have a plan? What kind? He’d been there for no more than 5 minutes and you were already throwing him back into the game.

“I...uh, I don’t h-have a plan.”

You crossed your arms, staring down at him and biting your lip. “Really? You, Fred Weasley, don’t have a plan?”

“Why are you talking to me like we’re friends?” Woah. That came out way harsher than he had wanted it to and he regretted it the moment it left his lips, especially seeing you wince at his blow. You covered it up quickly, face becoming darker with determination.

“We may not be friends, your words, not mine, but we are teammates. And I don’t know about you, but I like to win, and I’ll be damned if I’m stuck just sitting in here for the rest of the game because you don’t want to be partners with the likes of me. Now are you in, or not?”

He hated how quickly your tone had changed, starting as a warm playful banter and now becoming something hard and defensive. For reasons unknown to him, at that moment he would do anything to see that other side of you again, the poised and bold persona you always made sure everyone saw. But it was never a cocky confident, not how he could be sometimes. Rather, it was just assured. You knew what you wanted and what you were worth and you didn’t let anyone give you shit for anything. He envied you for that quality sometimes. The amount of time and energy he’d put into hiding his insecurities, and here you were being more confident than he could ever pretend to be.

He realized that you were still waiting for a response. Forgetting his nerves and the butterflies in his stomach that were always there whenever you spoke to him, he sat up straighter and mustered all the charm and confidence he usually carried. “You really think I’d let you win and take all the credit for yourself?”

A smile grew back on your face, one that Fred thought he would give anything to preserve.

“Alright then Freddie--oh, can I call you Freddie?”

He nodded, shyly at first and then more forceful. “Yeah, but I think this would be more fun with codenames.”

Your eyes grew wide at his suggestion and you started jumping up and down, energy rustling inside you just begging to get out. “Yes!” you almost screamed. “Oh perfect, ok, you can be...Eagle 1. Ooo, I like that. And I’ll be…”

“Why the 1 after it?” Fred asked, interrupting your thoughts.

“Because it sounds cooler,” you replied immediately. You snapped your fingers. “I’ll be Mantis, like a praying mantis. That’s cool. Ok, sound good?”

“Sounds perfect, Mantis,” he said, holding his hand up for a high five. You had to jump to reach his hand, giggling at the use of the new nickname.

“Alright, Eagle 1, any observations?”

Fred scanned the room, mind whirling with ideas. His eyes landed on the corner, a brick structure cemented into the wall. “Actually, I think I do have a plan.”

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

“This was a very stupid plan!”

You had to whisper yell so the guard down below, a Ravenclaw girl, couldn’t hear you. You and Fred were currently on the roof of Hagrid’s hut, holding on for dear life and trying not to make a sound. Somehow, against all known laws of physics and magic alike, you had both climbed up the chimney and had failed to be detected so far.

“Shh,” Fred said, looking around for a way down without being discovered.

“What’s the next part of the plan?” you hissed, nearly losing you footing on the steep slant of the rooftop.

Fred looked down sheepishly, glad it was too dark for you to see his ears grow red in embarrassment. “I didn’t think that far yet.”

His admission almost made you fall off the roof. “Oh, well fuck me then! How are we supposed to get down?”

“I’m thinking, I’m thinking! Just give me a minute.”

The hut was small, meaning that the girl who was walking circles around the bottom would do a full lap in about 30 seconds, and they would be visible in 15 no matter where they dropped down, if they could even make the drop without breaking a limb. Plus, the noise would no doubt alert her, and no matter how fast they ran she had her wand and would stun them before they got more than 10 metres away. You and Fred had your wands confiscated, which made this whole ordeal much harder, if not impossible. So the ground was out of the running.

Fred turned his head to the sky, wishing he had his broom so he could soar over everyone. Over everyone… That was it!

“Come here.” He grabbed your hand, yanking you away from the chimney and to the edge of the roof.

“Freddie, if you push me off of this I swear to Salazar that I will--”

He clamped a hand over your mouth, effectively cutting you off. You glared at him but stopped trying to talk when you saw what he was looking at. A group of people wearing blue and yellow were not too far off, and they were heading your direction. If they got any closer they would most definitely see the two of you up there and you would be screwed.

“Listen to me,” Fred said, quickly and quietly. “See that big branch over there?” Fred pointed at a thick branch that was extended toward the hut, about a metre away from the edge of the roof. “I’m going to throw you onto that--” your eyes widened in surprise “--and then I’m going to jump onto it as well. From there, we take the high road, climbing from branch to branch to make our escape. Understand?”

Before you could say anything, shouts rained through the air.

“Look, up there!”

“On the roof!”

“Oh fuck, it’s Fred and Y/N, they’re escaping!”

Wasting not a single second, Fred grabbed you under the armpits and tossed you with all of his might, sending you screaming through the air. You landed harshly on the branch and scrambled to keep your balance. Spells were blasting through the air, barely missing you. Fred took a few steps back in order to get a running start, but right as he was about to jump his foot slipped.

He pushed off with all his might, hoping against all hope that he would still make it there. A spell raced by him on his left side. This was it. He was about to get caught, again.

Then, against all odds, something grabbed him. He looked up to see you, legs wrapped around the branch and struggling to keep your balance, both on your hands grasping onto his with all of your strength. It took him a second to realize that you had caught him, but when he did he swung his other arm up to grab the branch, allowing you to hoist him up.

“Stop them!” He didn’t have time to thank you or celebrate the victory. Still holding his hand, you shuffled toward the trunk of the tree,

“Follow me,” you said, letting go and crawling out on another branch. You hopped from tree to tree, always finding another large place to grab onto or walk across. You both went as fast as you could without putting yourself in any danger of falling. After what felt like an eternity, you both failed to hear any more shouts or voices. You must have lost them in the thick forest.

“I think…” Fred said through panting breaths. “I think it’s ok to go down now.”

You nodded, gesturing for him to descend down the tree first. When your feet finally touched the ground you collapsed in exhaustion, arms and legs sprawled out. Fred soon joined you, his head right next to yours as your breaths slowed and went back to normal.

“That was fucking incredible,” he finally said. You laughed, coughing a bit as you did so, and turned to face him.

“It was, wasn’t it.”

“I’m serious!” he said, turning on his side. “You were amazing. I thought I was a goner. How’d you catch me?”

You shrugged. “I’m fueled by fury and spite, and there’s nothing I hate more than a cocky Cedric Diggory.”

He laughed, reaching out to rub a hand up and down your shoulder. “You and me both, love.”

His eyes widened at the accidental nickname but you didn’t seem to mind. You just continued to smile before sitting up, leaning back on the palms of your hands. “Alright, love, what’s the next step?”

Even though you said the name in a teasing manner, it didn’t stop Fred’s heart from fluttering in his chest. He shook his head, telling his stupid thoughts to leave and never come back. There were more important things to deal with.

“Now, we get the flag. We just need to find out where they hid it.”

He stood up, staring out at the expanse of forest surrounding you both in all directions. If he were Cedric, where would he hide the flag?

“This might take a while. We’ll have to scour the West side, the East has already been checked, but I supposed we’ll have to double check just in case--”

“It’s in the tree by the Black Lake.”

Fred froze in his tracks. You had said it so casually, as if you were just telling him what day of the week it was.

“What?”

“The Black Lake,” you repeated nonchalantly. “I followed Roger Davies as he made his rounds and he kept going back to the lake, like an alarming amount of times. And when we were being attacked at the hut, the group was definitely coming from that direction. And one of them had birch leaves all over her clothes, and the only birch tree is the one that is right by the lake. I say, who would climb that tree if not to hide something? It’s not tall enough to be a lookout tree and it’s not thick enough to hide anything or anyone bigger than, say, a flag. It’s gotta be there.”

He stared at you with his mouth hung open, completely dumbfounded. For the umpteenth time that night, you made him speechless.

“You’re fucking insane,” he finally said, rubbing the back of his neck as he continued to stare at you in surprise. “That’s incredible.”

“Thanks,” you said, winking at him. “It’s a gift.”

You reached a hand up to him, asking for him to pull you off the ground. He did so, and you immediately linked both of your arms and started off to your right. He didn’t know how you knew which way the lake was when you were both so deep in the forest, but he decided not to question it.

The two of you walked in silence for a little bit, you deciding to skip alongside Fred in order to keep up with how fast his long legs carried him.

“Y’know,” he said, breaking the silence, “you’re a lot more...chipper than I expected you to be.

Without missing a beat, you rolled your eyes and looked at him. “Why? Cuz I’m an evil Slytherin beant on world domination?” You spoke in an imitation of a dark voice, wiggling your fingers like you would when describing something as spooky.

“Well, yeah,” Fred admitted, suddenly feeling bad that he had always assumed so much about you that was obviously not true. “You guys don’t have the best reputation, that’s all.”

“Oh and all Gryffindors are superheroes that are meant to save the world?”

“That’s not what I--”

“I know,” you interrupted, “I’m just teasing. I hear it enough anyways that it doesn’t bother me anymore. The people who care will get to know the real me, and those who don’t try just don’t matter.” You shrugged as if it was the simplest thing in the world and Fred wondered how long it must’ve taken for you to be so content with it, how long you must’ve beaten yourself up for something you couldn’t control until you were finally at peace with just being who you were.

“I want to care,” he said without thinking. “I mean, I want to get to know you. You’re a lot more fun than I expected you to be.”

You laughed, nudging him with your shoulder. “And how come you’ve never tried talking to me before? We have gone to school together for, oh I don’t know, 7 years now!”

Although you were just messing around, your words hit hard. He had had classes with you for 7 bloody years and not once had he reached out to you for anything other than when you were assigned together for a project.

“You kind of called it earlier.” He said, making you furrow your brow in confusion. “I was a little bit afraid of you. Well, maybe afraid isn’t the right word. Intimidated, that’s it. You’re just so...I don’t know how to describe it, but you make me feel funny.”

“Funny?” you asked, now more muddled than ever. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t kow,” he repeated. “My heart starts racing and whenever I say things to you my mouth starts to go dry. Hell, half the time I get too embarrassed to say anything! I don’t know if it’s cuz you’re a Slytherin or because you’re absolutely stunning--”

“True true, continue.”

He laughed, leaning in to you as he did so. “And so incredibly humble, it appears.”

“Ah, yes, a trait we both share,” you replied. “It was you who deemed himself the ‘Prankster King’ as well as started the ‘Hogwarts Biggest Hottie’ competition just so you could convince everyone to vote for you, was it not?”

“Yeah, and bloody George won,” Fred grumbled. “We’re identical for fucks sake!”

“Well, if it makes you feel better, I think you beat out George on the attractiveness levels.”

Fred perked up. “So you voted for me then?”

“Actually,” you said, an evil smirk growing on your face, “I voted for Cedric.”

His jaw dropped and you took off running through the forest, crying with laughter as he chased after you.

“You bloody traitor, I’m the attractive one! Get back here!”

You sprinted through the trees, dodging trunks and ducking beneath branches praying that Fred wouldn’t catch up to you. But before you knew it, you had been tackled to the ground, flipping your body around in the process so you were now pinned beneath Fred, heads facing each other.

Both of you were still laughing, you wiping tears from your eyes at the chase that had just ensued.

“Say you were lying,” he demanded. “Say that I’m the most attractive one.”

When you refused, he had to resort to a kind of torture that he only used in the most extreme circumstances. He started tickling you.

“Ok, ok!” you screamed through your fits of laughter. “You’re the most attractive guy here, I swear it on Salazar himself!”

Finally, his fingers released from your side and you were given a chance to actually breathe. It was then that he realized how close your faces were. Mere centimeters apart. How easy it would be for him to just lean down and capture your lips in his, kissing you with all the breath he had left, letting his hands roam up and down your sides as yours got themselves tangled in his hair. How easy it would be to forget about the whole game and just spend the rest of the night wrapped around each other under the light of the pale moon. He dipped his head down, slowly closing the gap, your voice hitching in your throat as you licked your lips and closed your eyes, their color shining so clearly.

Fred suddenly sat up. Your eyes. He could see them, and he could see them well. The moonlight was shining just enough to allow him to see the color. Which could only mean…

“We’re here.” Sure enough, Fred had tackled you right at the edge of the forest by the clearing, much brighter than it had been in the forest. You both quickly made to get up, dusting yourselves off and avoiding eye contact as much as possible.

“Well,” you said, not daring to take your eyes off the birch tree in the distance. “Ready Eagle 1?”

Fred smiled, getting his feet ready to make the fastest sprint of his life. “Ready Mantis. On your mark--”

“No I get to say it! I’m the one who got us here after all,” you argued.

“Ok but who got us out of the hut?”

“I saved your ass from falling off the damn thing!”

“Well I--”

A branch cracking from behind you broke both of you out of your playful argument.

Fred looked at you and raised an eyebrow, offering his hand out to you. “Together?”

You took his hand and nodded. “Together.”

Fred squeezed your fingers tightly in his, staring at the target ahead.

“One..” he said slowly.

“Two…” you followed, catching a glimpse of a blue and yellow flag at the top of the tree.

“THREE!” You both sprinted through the clearing, feet carrying you as fast as they could as you raced to your destination. A loud whistle was being blown off to the right and shouts came from the left but you both just ignored them as you kept running.

A huge body appeared in front of you, almost out of nowhere, wand at the ready. You screamed in surprise and hit the person square in the jaw, sending them stumbling backwards until they tripped and fell back on their ass.

“Shit, sorry Roger!” you yelled back. Fred swore he could’ve kissed you right then and there.

You both made it to the base of the tree, not sturdy enough for the both of you. “Give me a boost,” you told Fred. He cupped your foot in his hands and hoisted you up, jumping out of the way just in time to miss a hex coming his direction. Your hands and feet moved as if you were a monkey swinging through vines. You heard grunts and yells from the ground but were too focused on the flag to care.

With one final push, you grabbed it, yelling triumphantly as you gripped the prize with all your might. All you had to do was get back to your team’s side and victory was yours.

“Y/N!” You looked down to see Fred standing at the bottom of the tree, two more boys laying on the ground and holding their noses. He must’ve taken them on with no wand and still managed to beat them. Fucking legend.

“Jump down!”

You were alarmingly high up, something that hadn’t occurred to you until just then. It panicked you to think about jumping. Maybe you could just climb back down? But even as you thought about that you saw more people coming, ready to capture you both again. This was your only chance.

Clutching the flag with all of your might, you jumped down from the tree, screaming as you free fell through the air. You landed not on the hard ground, but in a pair of strong arms that steadied you and held you bridal style.

“See, now we’re even. We’ve caught each other.”

“Stop flirting and fucking run Fred!”

He did as told, taking off with you still in his arms, the flag in yours. Even though he was carrying your body his adrenaline still gave him enough energy to run like the wind, just as if not faster than many of the others chasing them.

Over rocks, through a stream, past so many others who tried to stop him. But he wouldn’t stop. He just kept running and running and running until--

“Fred!” Angelina Johnson and George saw you both in the distance. They grabbed their wands out and hexed those in your pursuit, stopping a Ravenclaw girl just as she was about to hex Fred’s legs. You could see the line you all had drawn shimmering in the distance. More Gryffindors and Slytherins saw the commotion and raced to help, slowing down as many opponents as they could.

You were 50 metres from the line. 40. 30. 20. 10…

Fred’s legs gave out, a mere 5 metres from the line. Someone had finally hit him with a curse, sending him sprawling out on the ground. You gasped as your body hit the ground, rolling across the grass, closer and closer and--

A firework exploded, then another, and then another. The signifier of victory. You looked up to see what had happened. You were on the ground as well, your right arm laying in front of you with your right wrist and hand over the line. The hand that had been holding the flag.

“We did it!” You didn’t know who screamed, but whoever started it set a trend of wild cries and yells, whoops of victory and laughter filling the air. Your friends were by your side in a matter of seconds, helping you up and to the other side.

You stumbled a bit, the reality of what happened finally hitting you. “We won!” You and your friends jumped up and down, hugging each other and screaming as loud as you could. You were bombarded with questions, everyone wondering what happened and how you managed to pull this off. Ignoring them, you looked around for Fred, who was starting to push himself off the ground.

You dropped the flag and raced over to him, grabbing his arms and putting them on your shoulders to help him balance.

“This is Mantis calling Eagle 1,” you said, barely audible over the celebration. “We did it. I repeat, we did it.”

Fred looked up, face covered in scratches and bruises, but you guessed you didn’t look much better. “As much as I like the name Eagle 1, I think you should go back to calling me Freddie.”

You laughed, leaning your head into his chest. “Roger that Freddie.”

He removed his hands from you shoulders and moved them to your waist, spinning you around in the air before pulling you into a bone crushing hug. “We fucking did it! Suck it Diggory!”

“Suck it Diggory!” you repeated.

A chorus of ‘suck it Diggory’s reined across the grounds, Slytherins and Gryffindors alike chanting it repeatedly.

Fred finally lowered you to the ground and rested his forehead against yours. “Go out with me,” he said. “On a date. Go out with me.”

“What, jumping off roofs and out of trees and running for your life through a dark forest doesn’t count as a date already?”

He laughed and closed his eyes, relishing this moment and thinking about how much had happened in just a few hours. “Fine, a second date then. Will you go out with me on a second date?”

You brought your hands up to his mess of hair, twisting a lock in your finger and sending shivers up and down his spine. “Only if you promise that it’ll be even more exciting than the first. Think you can top this?”

“Oh, love, you have no idea what I’m capable of.”

“Try me,” you replied, pulling his head down to yours and sealing your lips together in a kiss.

All of your friends as well as Fred’s just stared in awe, wondering what the hell happened that suddenly you two were snogging in front of everyone. You’d explain everything in due time, what was the rush? And you’d have to make sure to thank Cedric Diggory for locking the two of you up together. How it had changed everything.

Tag List:

@famdomhideout @amourtentiaa

#theweasleyslut's 2k writing challenge #fredweasley #fred weasley imagine #fred #fred x reader #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley #harry potter au #fredweasleyimagine

60 notes · View notes

raincappuccino · 3 years

Text

Venti remembers the man in the alleyway, lit almost ablaze in the lamplight. The gold in his eyes. The meteor orbiting his shoulders. His hands had been as steady as the earth, and when he held Venti, he had called him— —a name he hadn’t heard in a long, long time. After hearing news of Morax’s death, Venti travels to Liyue to honor a tradition that the Original Seven had long held: each time one of them passed on, those that remained would gather to drink a toast and say their final goodbyes. He figures Morax deserves this, at the least, even if it’s a party of one. He didn’t think it would be so hard to do it alone. Drunk, lonely, and despairing, Venti takes to wandering the streets of Liyue and stumbles upon a well-dressed stranger by the name of Zhongli, who reminds him far too much of what he’s just lost.

pairing: venti/zhongli rating: T word count: 10.8k tags: fluff and angst, love confessions, misunderstandings, reunion, idiots in love

hi hi i wrote a zhongven fic and i figured i'd post it on tumblr too so please check it out! it involves venti thinking morax is dead and not recognizing zhongli at all, zhongli rescuing an extremely drunk venti, zhongven going on a cute date, and all hell breaking loose when venti finds out. there's a lot of both of them being very, very bad at handling emotions <3

Preview under the cut! The whole thing's pretty long, so check it out over on ao3!

Venti wakes up to a room that’s way too bright for his piercing headache. The curtains are drawn, but light filters through the gaps between them, painting a zigzag across the dull blue blanket covering him. The air is still and quiet, and the shadow of a waving tree branch flutters outside the window.

He looks around, trying to remember where he is. Everything is unfamiliar. The architecture of the room is traditionally Liyue, with a polished lacquer folding screen standing by the large trunk at the foot of the bed, inlaid with ivory and mother of pearl, simple but elegant. It reminds him of Morax’s taste, but the room itself is completely foreign to him, as is any knowledge of how he’d arrived here.

To be fair, this was far from the first time he’d woken up after a night of drinking in a stranger’s bed with zero memory of how he’d gotten there, but usually he was unclothed, which at least gave some hint as to what might have transpired. Instead, he was still clad in his undershirt, with an embroidered silk robe he’d never seen before draped over his shoulders.

He hears footsteps, and sits up quickly as he hears a door open. The fast movement makes his head spin. “I see you’re awake.” Venti looks up, meeting the eyes of a well-dressed stranger. It was the man from last night, he remembers vaguely, though only fuzzy images come to mind. In the mid-morning light, his hair is a softer brown than Venti had previously thought, and the lines of his face seem less stern and more thoughtful. His eyes, now looking a dull amber in the daylight, regard Venti curiously.

“Um,” Venti mumbles, trying to remember how to speak. His tongue feels awkward in his mouth, and his way with words that usually gifted him onstage and at taverns vanishes as he fumbles for what to say. “Yes. Hi.”

“Good morning, although it’s nearly noon.” The man sets down a towel and a tray by the bedside. “I’ve brewed you some tea. It should help with your headache.”

“Uh, thanks.” Venti wonders if he sounds as confused as he is. “Do I… Are you… What did…?” He can’t seem to form a coherent sentence.

Ignoring this, the man continues speaking. “You should be more careful. The townsfolk here are not quite as free-spirited as what you’re used to in Mondstadt. If you wander the streets drunk and incoherent, someone might take advantage of you.”

Flashes of last night come back to Venti, and he clears his throat, trying to regain the ability to speak. “Oh please. Thanks for your concern, but I assure you—Wait, how did you know where I’m from?”

“It is obvious from the flower in your hat,” the stranger responds smoothly, pulling said hat off a coat rack in the entryway and throwing it at his face. The rest of his clothes, Venti notices, are folded and stacked in a neat pile nearby, and the thought of the man removing them from his body the night before sends heat rushing through his cheeks again.

He blinks, trying to clear his head. “Anyway, like I was saying, I assure you, I’ve got plenty of practice lately getting wasted and sleeping with strangers, so you can spare me the lecture. Thanks for your hospitality, though, and I’ll be taking off—”

A look passes over the stranger’s eyes. Judgment, perhaps—Venti wouldn’t be shocked; it isn’t as if he’s never been scolded for his fast-and-loose way of living—but then the man’s eyes narrow, dark with something akin to anger, and Venti wonders if there’s something he’s missing, something he’s not understanding.

“You should rest,” the man says shortly. “You’re in no shape to travel.”

Perhaps against his better judgment, Venti obeys, leaning back into the headboard. He studies the other man with interest, watching the way his fingers wrap around the handle of the teapot, slowly and with immense care, as though he were cradling a fragile creature. It makes Venti think of the way Morax held him the very first time, and he has to choke back a noise that very nearly makes it out of his throat.

The stranger hands him a cup of warm, dark liquid, smelling of spices and something domestic, and Venti sips it. It tastes exactly like the sobering tea Morax used to make him drink if he got too wild, and the nostalgia almost brings tears. He breathes in sharply. He has to stop connecting every little thing here to Morax, from the tea to the decor to the man himself, but how can he, when all of Liyue may as well be suffused with his breath, as if he were still living?

Read the rest on ao3!!! >>> https://archiveofourown.org/works/31732375

#light angst #zhongven #genshin impact #genshin fanfic #zhongli x venti #zhongli #venti #my writing #hiiiii i finally wrote something after like a full year of fic writing drought so pls consider reading it #also note that i don't consider this heavy angst (i actually tagged it on ao3)#but like #10 different people (yeah i counted) told me it made them physically cry???? so just. be prepared #it's not angsty! there's a happy ending it's just really emotional so i think that's probably why #i promise it'll make you cry happy tears by the end!#also yeah i posted this on ao3 a week ago but i figured i might as well put it on tumblr too now #also sorry i rarely use this tumblr i'm more active over on twitter

73 notes · View notes

thedeliverygod · 3 years

Text

The day has come to share one of my @noragamibigbang fics! Check out my partner on Twitter & Insta.

AO3|ff.net

Divine Blessing

Yato couldn’t help but think it was weird, standing in one of the bedrooms of Bishamon’s manor and for once he wasn’t covered in bandages and aching all over. Not to mention that everyone was acting weird in general; the crazy skank and Kazuma especially.

“Why are they so dead set on me meeting this new god, anyway?” He huffed to himself, stuffing his hands in his pockets, “Just because I like Ebisu doesn’t mean I want to babysit every brat running around Takamagahara…”

He bit his lip.

Not to mention, he was bitter. Everyone was already talking about whoever this was, and it had taken him how long to get even the tiniest bit of notoriety?

He moved to the window and leaned against the frame of it, looking out, but his mind somewhere else.

He wasn’t sure if he was ready for any of this. He appreciated his friends' concern and they probably just wanted him to actually do something instead of walk around in a daze all day, but he was still healing. Yukine was helping him keep it together, but a giant part of him was missing.

‘Hiyori.’

He shut his eyes and grimaced. She had saved him so many times and when it really mattered, he couldn’t do the same for her.

Knock, knock, knock.

He practically jumped out of his skin as he was pulled back into reality by the noise. ‘Probably for the better that I get distracted from where my thoughts were going anyway…’

He exhaled to himself before answering, “Uh, come in.”

The door creaked open slowly and he was surprised to see an adult sized woman in light colored traditional clothing slip in quickly before shutting the door, her back still turned to him.

‘Maybe she’s not an entirely new god? Maybe just new to all of this, like I am.’ He wondered to himself, now a bit curious.

Finally, she turned around and looked up with a sheepish smile, her magenta eyes barely peeking out from underneath her bangs, “…It’s so good to see you, Yato.”

“Hiyo—” The air was instantly knocked out of him and his knees buckled underneath him.

“Yato!” She immediately kneeled down in front of him, though kept a small distance between them as he continued to look over her in shock.

Looking over her once again, he stated numbly, “I’m dreaming.”

Hiyori slid closer to him and reached out to touch his cheek, “You’re not, I promise.”

A tear escaped from one of his eyes, “How?”

Giving a bit of a laugh, she answered, “I guess you haven’t been to my family’s hospital lately, then…”

Yato shook his head, reaching up to take her hand from his cheek and into his own, “No… I haven’t left Takamagahara since I lost you. Yukine goes to work at Kofuku and Daikoku’s shop sometimes, but otherwise, we’ve been here.”

“I’m sorry.” She frowned before looking down to hide her face.

“Don’t apologize.” He answered automatically, “It’s my fault. I didn’t protect you.”

“You did!” Hiyori immediately fired back, almost in a yell. More quietly, she repeated, “You did… Look, no one’s invincible, right? And anyway, I’m here now.”

He nodded tearfully. “So… How is that exactly? You mentioned the hospital…”

She flushed and smiled sheepishly, “Well, it was Yama-chan and Ami-chan’s idea… After everything happened, they brought up to my parents how I spent a lot of times at shrines and always made offerings and such. I think they may have seen your shrine in my room at one point too. So, they asked my parents about making a shrine for me at the hospital both in honor of me but also as a way for patients and their families to pray for someone to watch over them. So… Here I am.”

Taking in all of the information, Yato took a moment before he cracked a joke, “I had to wait how long for a shrine and you got one right away?”

“It’s not like I asked for it.” She gave a pout in response, though she looked a bit guilty.

He laughed and gave a wide smile, “It’s okay. You of all people deserve it.”

“Thank you.” She answered, still looking a bit sheepish, “And it’s not like I’m a major god or anything—I’m just in charge of the Iki hospital.”

“I’m sure you’ve still probably got more followers than me already.” He still smiled.

“Well—” She turned her head away, unsure of how to answer.

“I’m messing with you, Hiyori.” He gripped her hand tighter, “None of that stuff matters.”

Hiyori took a breath and looked back at him, “Right.”

Yato reached up to cup the side of her face, pulling her inward. Hiyori’s eyes fluttered shut as he kissed her softly, mumbling, “I really missed you.”

“I missed you too.” She answered, though it was in such a quick breath between kisses it almost sounded like one word.

Just as Yato had wrapped his arms around her and pulled her even tighter against him, there was a small knock on the door. Breathlessly, he mumbled, “Shit.”

Hiyori scooted backward, her face quickly reddening.

“Uh, Yato? Are you still in there?” Yukine’s voice called out in confusion from outside the door.

His face lit up and he flashed a grin to Hiyori before answering, “Yeah! Come in, Yukine.”

“I figured that other god was still here but it was so quiet I wasn’t—” The blonde explained loudly as he opened the door and pushed it shut behind him. Scanning the room and finding Yato on the floor, he squinted, “What are you…” He took a few steps closer and noticed the other figure who was originally blocked by the bed.

“Hi, Yukine-kun.” She gave a small wave.

“Hi—Hiyori!” He forgot himself and quickly fell against her in a tight hug. Just as she reciprocated, he pulled away and sheepishly apologized, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry! I’m just… How?”

“You’re looking at the new god of Iki hospital.” Yato announced from his side.

Yukine’s mouth made an ‘o’ shape in understanding, “That makes sense. And it suits you!”

Hiyori giggled, “Thank you.”

Looking back at Yato, he asked breathlessly, “Did you know?”

“Not a clue until today.” Yato shook his head, looking to Hiyori to ask, “Did you set this whole thing up?”

She shrugged, “Kind of… But it was mostly Kazuma-san and Bishamon-san. I just wanted to do it in a way that didn’t overwhelm you so that I didn’t just… come strolling into the manor one day, you know?”

“If you did, I probably would have guessed that skank named you as a shinki and made you part of her army.”

Hiyori rolled her eyes, “You know Bishamon-san wouldn’t do something like that.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Yato waved his hand, “We may be buds now, but I still can’t trust her as far as I can throw her.”

“If you say so.” She hummed in response.

“It’s not like she’s been the one giving us food. And a place to stay, even though you won’t take it.” Yukine stood up straight, looking down at Yato with crossed arms.

Hiyori blinked in confusion, thinking aloud, “But if you haven’t been staying here or at Kofuku-san’s, then where…?”

“A tent on that tiny piece of land.” Yukine answered despite Yato motioning for him not to, “But he’s been mooching food from here and using the baths, sneaking around even though Bishamon-san totally knows he’s doing it.”

Yato flushed brightly and turned himself away from them, “It’d be a waste not to use my property! You could use some old-fashioned camping anyway, Yukine. You’re probably spoiled after staying here for so long.”

“And who’s fault is that?” The blonde boy answered automatically and the god groaned in response.

“Jeez.” Hiyori sighed heavily before she stood up as well, walking over to Yato and putting a hand on his shoulder. As he looked up at her, she commented, “So it’s about time to go home, then.”

Smiling, he nodded, “Yeah.” As he stood up as well, he questioned, “Though are you sure it’s a good idea to hang out with the god of poverty?”

“I’m not going to just avoid Kofuku-san because I’m a god now.” She rolled her eyes before taking her hand in his, “Besides, I spend far more time with my god of fortune, so I think it works out.”

“Right.” He answered sheepishly, grinning.

#noragami #yatori #noragami reverse bang 2021 #noragamibigbang #my writing

35 notes · View notes

cxsmicmyeon · 3 years

Text

SURPRISE! , kms

kim minseok x fem! reader

IN WHICH minseok wants to spend his 31st birthday at home with his wife and cat but you have other plans that may or may not involve a surprise birthday party. (based on the second prompt from this post by @creativepromptsforwriting)

genre: married/domestic & non-idol au! fluff, humor word count: 3.0k warnings: swearing, light sexual references/jokes, implied sexual content (it gets a tad spicy at times but nothing explicit), chaos, minseok’s butt being The Bomb Dot Com™ (sorry not sorry)

author’s note: happy birthday to my ray of sunshine, kim minseok! i love you so so much darling, i hope your day is filled with so much happiness and celebration. hope this lil piece can help y’all celebrate min’s 31st with me <3 it’s not the 26th yet where i live lmao but it is in korea so yeah! once again have a happy happy birthday minseok, i love you endlessly and forever. <33 MOODBOARD MADE BY ME. I DON’T OWN THE IMAGES, I ONLY OWN MY EDITING. feedback and notes are greatly appreciated <3

One day.

One day until Minseok’s birthday, and you were scrambling from bakery to bakery to try and get the perfect cake for him. There were flaws in every place you’ve been: too expensive, the designs were not creative enough, blah blah blah. You wanted his day to be as perfect as possible, and what would be the point of that if the cake was nothing but?

Everything else was all ready. You invited all of yours and his closest friends to your house the night of Minseok’s birthday for a surprise party. You planned on keeping Minseok out of the house for the entire day as your friends decorated the house.

He didn’t want a party. He made that abundantly clear to you as soon as March began. He incessantly told you that all he wanted was a day off from teaching so he could spend the whole day with you and your cat. All he wanted was a nice and relaxing day with his wife. You understood, obviously. But you also wanted to go all out and throw a surprise birthday bash for your husband celebrating his thirty-first year on Earth. Baekhyun, Chanyeol and Jongdae’s incessant whining and begging for an excuse to have a party only aided in your need to have a party.

You ended up settling with a simple Carvel ice cream cake from the frozen section of the grocery store. You made a mental note to ask Yixing to write out “Happy Birthday Minseok” the next day as you left the store.

You came home to your husband holding a feather toy over your cat, Tan’s head. She pawed at the red feather, always at the cusp of grabbing it before Minseok moved the line away from her. He cooed at the animal, making soft kissing sounds as he continued to play with her.

Realizing that he may see the cake, you tucked the grocery bag under your shirt in an attempt to hide it from him, shivering at the cold contact the frozen treat made with your skin. The rustling of the plastic bag caused Minseok to look up at you. He gave you a gummy smile as you walked past him and Tan.

“Well hello to you too, honey. What’s under your shirt?” Minseok asked playfully, wiggling his eyebrows as he made eye contact with your chest. You realized that hiding the bag did not do much to hide the cake, as the shape of the large box combined with the plastic grocery bag greatly protruded from the fabric of your shirt.

“Nothing, it’s for tomorrow. Don’t wanna ruin the surprise, hm?” you mused, blowing him an air kiss before retreating to your office. He "caught” your kiss with a smile before going back to playing with Tan.

You entered your office and placed the plastic bag onto your desk. You ran to lock the door before opening the bag and taking the cake out, sighing in relief that the cake did not get ruined. You bent down to your mini-fridge and opened the small door of the freezer compartment and placed the cake inside, glad that it could fit inside. After locking the fridge, you exited your office and made your way downstairs to spend time with your loving husband.

You awoke the next day curled up in Minseok’s arms. You cuddled closer to him before jolting upwards in realization. Today was finally the day! You bent down and began showering your sleeping husband with excited kisses, trailing a hand down his bicep. He let out a sleepy groan as he stirred, wrapping his strong arms around your figure.

“Aah, what’s gotten into you baby?” he asked, his voice hoarse from just waking up.

“Happy birthday, Min!” you beamed, pecking him on the lips. He grinned tiredly as he kissed you on the lips.

“Mmmh, thank you honey.” You grinned as you kissed him again. This kiss lasted longer than the previous ones and slowly yet surely grew more heated. You moved yourself so you were straddling him, not breaking the kiss. He hummed against your lips as you slid your hand underneath his shirt, fingertips grazing his toned stomach. He groaned as his hands made their way down to your ass, squeezing harshly. You bit back a moan as you slowly slid his shirt up his chest, breaking the kiss to ogle at his abs.

“Babe... don’t we need to get ready?” Minseok groaned as you pulled the shirt over his head. You latched your lips onto his neck and softly bit down, eliciting a raspy moan from your husband.

“Shh, let me give you your first gift.” you purred, moving your hands toward the waistband of his boxers.

The mall was packed to the brim with people from all different walks of life. Gossiping teenagers, sleep-deprived parents following their energetic kids around, old couples window shopping, you name it. You walked through the giant Macy’s and into the main hub of the mall hand in hand with Minseok.

Since you started dating, it has been a tradition for you to buy each other’s gifts the day of your respected birthdays. You’d usually scour Amazon or websites of your favorite brands all day and end up splurging half your monthly paychecks on each other. But on occasion, today included, you’d take your shopping day to the local mall as a means to get out of your apartment and actually go out for once.

After an... eventful... morning, you rushed to get dressed and usher your husband out of the house, since the boys were coming over at 11, and it was 10:55 by the time you got into the car and sped away toward the mall.

You pointed out a newly opened jewelry store and pulled Minseok inside with you. You looked at him lovingly as he browsed the display of a multitude of different rings. He’d softly mutter to himself as he picked up ring after ring: trying to see what would look best next to his wedding band, what the right price was, if the store even provided the correct size. You loved how organized he was.

Your silent admiring was interrupted by the familiar chime of your phone, indicating you got a text message. You let out a sigh as soon as you saw who the message was from.

operation minseok’s 31st🥳

jun-bug: (y/n) we have a problem (y/n): oh god what happened yee-xing: baekhyun dropped the cake (y/n): he did what bacon: cant u read (y/n) i dropped the fucking cake 11 minutes late: no need to be rude xoxo (y/n): yeah baek u don’t want me to leave my stunning husband inside the jewelry store, come home and mutilate you for dropping his cake and get arrested on his special day (: kyung-soup: oddly specific but i’m here for it jong-waeeee: off topic but the sign says “minseop” instead of “minseok” (y/n): jun, yixing and kyungsoo you better get this settled or else i’m gonna kill all of you nini bear: yes ma’am ofc ma’am we will do this correct chain-yeol: yeah i don’t wanna die today

“Everything okay?”

You quickly locked your phone and threw it inside your purse before making eye contact with Minseok. You nodded a bit too quickly, panic washing over you like a giant wave from the ocean.

“Yeah, everything’s dandy.” you sputtered. Oh, why did this have to happen right now? You silently prayed that everything was going to go well. It had to.

“You sure?”

“Positive. Did you choose something?” Minseok nodded as he handed you a box with a simple black titanium ring. You nodded in approval as he led you to the register.

Your next stop was at Express. You were dying to pick out some new work clothes for him to try on. You assured him (and yourself) that he needed these new pants and this was totally not an excuse for you to check him out.

“Okay, I’ve got three pairs of pants that I think would look absolutely amazing on you and I want you to go try ‘em on.” you said, handing Minseok three hangers. Each hanger had a pair of slacks in different colors hanging from them. He took them from you, shooting you a smirk before walking inside the fitting room stall.

Your eyes widened as Minseok opened the door of the stall. The pants fit absolutely perfectly. The way the fabric hugged his perfect thighs, the color complimenting his white undershirt (which you imagined to be one of his famous white button-downs), it left you practically swooning.

“What do you think?”

You let out a hum in approval before motioning for him to turn around. “Lemme see the goods, hun.” He rolled his eyes before turning around. Your eyes landed on his butt, making you swoon for real. You covered your mouth to hide your obvious enjoyment of the sight before you. And it didn’t help when he gave his butt a mini shake. Still, you couldn’t help but squeal softly.

“You sure today’s not your birthday?” Minseok teased. You tutted as you stood from your spot and walked up to him, giving his butt a light pinch before wrapping your arms around his neck.

“With you, every day’s my birthday.” you answered, giving him a peck on the lips.

“Ugh, I think you ate too much of that egg and cheese for breakfast today.”

“You know you love me.”

“That I do, darling.” Minseok mused before closing the distance between you two. You tangled your hands in his silky black hair as you savored the heavenly taste of his lips. You felt his hands grab your ass as you deepened the kiss, tugging at his hair in response.

As you kissed, you heard your phone chime the same chime that indicated a text from the boys. You decided to ignore it and continue making out with your husband until the phone went off four more times. You scoffed as you broke the kiss, fishing inside of your purse to grab it.

“Is everything okay, hun?” Minseok asked.

“Yeah, fine. Just crap from, uh, ‘work,’” you lied, unlocking the phone. “Go try on the other pants.” Minseok nodded before walking back to the stall. Once the door was closed and locked, you looked down at your messages, worry washing over you once again. What the hell happened now?

operation minseok’s 31st🥳

yee-xing: oh christ yee-xing: (y/n) (y/n) (y/n) jun-bug: you gotta help us yee-xing: please kyung-soup: i am going to kill park chanyeol like my life depends on it (y/n): what the everloving shit happened this time chain-yeol: um i sneezed all over the cake kyung-soup: the custom one u got on wednesday btw (y/n): you. sneezed. on. the. CAKE????? chain-yeol: IM SORRY chain-yeol: I WAS TRYING TO STOP BAEKHYUN FROM KNOCKING IT OVER AND I SAVED IT BUT THEN I SNEEZED nini bear: ur so gross chain-yeol: you too (y/n): i spent 100 dollars on that cake and you fucking sneeze on it?? (y/n): jfc i’m here busy admiring my husband’s sweet sweet ass and u guys are telling me the cake’s ruined? i will murder u all i swear jong-waeeee: ew i don’t wanna hear about minseok’s ass (y/n): shut the fuck up sign ruiner jong-waeeee: I GOT A NEW ONE THOUGH jong-waeeee: YOU’RE SO MEAN bacon: WAIT bacon: (Y/N) WE’LL PAY FOR ANOTHER ONE (y/n): baekhyun you sweet summer child (y/n): I HAD TO PRE-ORDER THAT CAKE 2 WEEKS IN ADVANCE YOU WALNUT bacon: oh bacon: my bad 11 minutes late: W8 W8 I GOT U 11 minutes late: WE CAN STILL EAT IT 11 minutes late: I’LL SPRAY SOME LYSOL ON IT jun-bug: SEHUN DON’T YOU DARE (y/n): sehun honey that just contaminates it even more (y/n): but thank you for trying 11 minutes late: xoxo i try my best yee-xing: how ‘bout we just buy more carvel cakes to match the one you got yesterday up to 100 dollars so it maxes out (y/n): yeah alright fine (y/n): thanks xing ur a life saver (y/n): but don’t throw away the ruined cake i wanna show min what he could have missed out on if CHANYEOL DIDN’T FUCKING SNEEZE ON IT (y/n): WHO SNEEZES ON A CAKE nini bear: only chanyeol (y/n): yep, only chanyeol chain-yeol: y’all are mean. kyung-soup: what u get for sneezing on the cake

You locked your phone, letting out an exasperated sigh. You swore if anything else happened today, you were going to march all the way back home and kill those men. You massaged your temples with your fingers as a means to alleviate your stress. All you wanted was for everything to be perfect for the party; Minseok deserved nothing less than that.

The door of the stall opened, revealing Minseok wearing nothing but the new pair of navy slacks and a devilishly handsome smirk. His smile faded when he saw you with your hands over your face, taking deep breaths in an attempt to calm yourself down from your stress. He quickly pulled his undershirt on and rushed over to you, wrapping his arms around you comfortingly. With a sigh, you buried your face in his chest, your stress starting to wash away as he began stroking your hair.

You stayed like that for about ten minutes. You eventually calmed down, silently reassuring yourself that everything was going to be fine. You were glad that Minseok did not try to ask you anything since you were afraid you were going to let slip what was waiting for him when you arrive home later in the day.

You let out a small sniffle as you pressed a small kiss on your husband’s exposed shoulder. “I’m so sorry I brought down your mood, Min. The p- ‘w-work,’ is just annoying right now. It’s your birthday, it’s supposed to be a good day.” you mumbled, looking down at your hands.

“Shh, don’t you worry your little head about it,” Minseok assured, kissing your forehead. He tilted your head up and pressed his lips against yours. “All I want is for my baby to be happy today.” You gave him a weak smile and wrapped your arms around his waist, feeling so lucky to have him in your life.

“C’mon, let’s go to the food court. All this stress made me hungry.” you joked, standing from your spot.

“Good idea,” Minseok gave you another kiss before walking back into the changing stall to change back into his regular clothes. “Oh, by the way, buy the pants.” You pumped a fist into the air as you took the hanging articles of clothing into your hands.

You were lucky (and frankly surprised) that nothing else had managed to go wrong today. You were suspicious that you hadn’t gotten any panic-stricken texts from Yixing or Junmyeon, but you couldn’t complain about that. Just to be sure though, you quickly texted Kyungsoo to give you a final update on the state of your house. You sighed in relief when he responded with pictures of your living room, kitchen and backyard decorated just how you envisioned it to be. You sent Kyungsoo a text back thanking him and everyone else profusely for their help.

The clock struck 5, indicating that it was time for you and Minseok to go home. The two of you exited the mall, arms filled with different shopping bags from all the stores you went to during the day. After putting your bags into the backseat of your car, you opened the passenger side of the car and slid in.

“Hm, I was thinking of ordering from that ramen place we tried last week. It was really good, don’t you remember?” Minseok suggested, starting the car and pulling out of the parking lot.

“How ‘bout we wait ‘till we get home to... eat.” you responded, a shit-eating grin almost making its way onto your face.

Minseok hummed softly. “I just wanna spend the rest of the night with you and Tan at home, I hope no one’s planning a surprise party for me,” You tensed slightly at his words, looking out the window to avoid his gaze.

“Oh, I wouldn’t do that, hun.” You lied. He shrugged, intertwining his fingers with yours.

When Minseok pulled into your driveway, you shot a quick text to the boys, telling them that you were home. You exited the car quickly, grabbing most of the shopping bags and taking Minseok by the arm, dragging him to the front door.

“Whoa, what’s gotten into you?” he chuckled as you struggled to get your keys out of your purse. Once you got them out and put the house key into the lock, you turned to Minseok and pressed your lips onto his.

“Happy birthday, Min. I love you so much. And I’m so sorry.” you unlocked the front door and pushed it open. You saw Minseok’s eyes widen at the sight of your home. It was filled to the brim with decorations and all of your closest friends holding gifts, balloons and tons of different ice cream cakes.

“SURPRISE!” everyone exclaimed. Minseok’s jaw dropped as he fully took in everything that was happening. He looked over to you with a sly smile, to which you responded with a small shrug.

“I had to, come on.” You giggled, kissing him on the cheek.

“It’s okay, hun. Let’s just enjoy ourselves.” Minseok cupped your face into his hands and pressed his lips onto yours.

“Gross, get a room!” you heard Baekhyun scream. You pulled away from Minseok to flip the younger off.

“Oh! I need to show you the cake I initially got for you but was unfortunately ruined because Chanyeol sneezed on it. Jun, is it in the fridge?” you pulled Minseok in the direction of the kitchen as Junmyeon confirmed the location of the cake.

“He... huh?”

“It was an accident!” Chanyeol whined. You laughed softly to yourself at his childish reaction.

Tonight was gonna be fun.

#xiumin x reader #xiumin x you #minseok x reader #minseok x you #xiumin fluff #minseok fluff #exo fluff #exo #exo scenario #exo scenarios #exo imagine #exo imagines #exo fanfiction #exo au #exo au scenarios #happy birthday xiumin #happy birthday minseok

68 notes · View notes

goodwriterwithbadhabits · 3 years

Text

Come Home With Me

(The ending is crap, but IDK)

Master List

“Then he says I’m being ridiculous, so I shut the bedroom door in his face.” Your mom huffs over the phone, as you dig in your purse for your keys.

“I mean I think you’re right. You deserve to know what he’s been doing, it's a little suspicious to be off galavanting late at night.” You throw your hands up, in exasperation, effectively throwing your keys on the floor.

“That’s what I was thinking.” You exclaim, “Now we haven’t spoken in a week. Whoever gets home first gets the bed and the other one just sleeps on the couch.” You crouch down, ankles wobbling slightly in your heels as you snatch your keys from the ground.

“What about Valentine’s Day?” You sigh as you straighten up, wedging your phone between your shoulder and cheek. “He hasn’t made any plans for today?”

“I dunno, Mom. I think this might be the end of us. He barely spends any time with me, and I don’t know if I can trust him with how defensive he got. It’s concerning, don’t you think?”

“Don’t give up hope just yet, baby, this is Mark, even if he doesn’t always say it, I know he loves you.” You can’t help but smile at the kind words.

“I know, Momma.”

“But if he doesn’t have any plans for today, just break up with him.” She jokes, which makes you laugh.

“Of course mom, I’ll try to talk to him tonight. Love you.”

“Love you too, babygirl. Keep me updated.”

“I will, bye.” She hangs up with well wishes and a kiss, leaving you alone in the hall outside your apartment. You blow out a breath, ready for the ice storm that waits for you inside, before finally jamming your key in the lock and heading inside.

It was the shiny pink heart on the gold paper under the only light on in the apartment that caught your eye. At first, while you toed off your shoes and practically threw your purse on the counter, you had just assumed it was a valentine a fan had sent it, but then you noticed your own name in Mark’s messy handwriting at the top. Shrugging off your blazer, you make your way over to it, tossing the discarded clothing over the back of the couch.

“Dear Y/n, “ You begin to read the letter, dropping onto the couch as you do so. “I know this past week has been rough, and for that, I’m sorry. You were right, you deserve to know where I’ve been going. I would tell you normally, but you deserve to see it in person. There’s a gift for you in the closet. Just trust me on this.” You chuckle at the crudely drawn winky face, excitedly jumping up to find the gift.

The gift was a dress, single sleeved, with a high low skirt in sky blue with little pink and white hearts adorning it. It too had a note, this one telling you to get ready, and wear it, and that Jackson would be picking you up when you were ready. Your heart wouldn’t stop pounding the entire time. What if this was an elaborate break up? What if he was going to propose? Were you ready to get married? Your hands shook as you put your phone and wallet in a white purse, the only one you had that would match.

“You are overthinking this, Y/n.” You assure yourself, double checking your face in the mirror one last time before heading outside. Your heels clicked on the wooden flooring of the apartment complex, making the front desk man look up with a smile.

“Ah, Y/n, I have something for you, from Mark.” He greets, reaching under his desk to pull out a red rose. You accept it with a smile matching his, tucking it behind your ear. “Happy Valentine’s Day.”

“You too, thank you.” The smile stays on your face as you make your way to the curb, where Jackson waits.

“Hey cutie! You look great.” He greets as you climb into the passenger seat.

“Thanks Jacks.” You clip your seatbelt, then pull down the visor to check your make up again. “Alright, “ You begin, slapping the visor up, “Where are we going?” Jackson only grins, pulling away from the building.

“You’ll see.” You groan, tossing your head back against the seat.

“You boys and your secrets.” You huff, “Besides, isn’t the Korean tradition that girls give chocolates today?”

“Mark’s American.” Jackson waves you off, grinning like a fool.

“I wish Yugyeom had driven me.” Jackson gasps at your comment, glancing over at you with an exaggerated frown.

“How come?”

“Cause he would have told me what was going on.” You pout, crossing your arms over your chest and staring out the window. The car ride is only a few minutes, and Jackson pulls up at a large building only 10 minutes after leaving yours.

“Alright, go inside, take elevator B to floor 12, and then Elevator H up to the top floor. Then you’re going to follow the signs to the roof.”

“The roof?” You ask incredulously, “Jackson, its freezing and I didn’t bring a jacket.”

“Don’t worry about that, you’ll be fine. Just go.” You do, albeit a touch reluctantly. The warmth of the building is nice, although you had no idea what the building is for, seeing as it appeared to be completely empty. Following Jackson’s instructions was easy enough, but the small glittery gold heart stickers on certain buttons also helped. Standing in front of the roof access door, you brace yourself, not only for the cold, but to finally face the man you’d been accidentally avoiding all week. Blowing out a deep breath, you square your shoulders, and yank open the door.

Mark had somehow turned the roof into his own personal world. Fairy lights hung from bamboo pillars, a small fire blazed in a pit surrounded by plush couches, and a candlelit dinner awaited on a small table, where he sat. When he saw you, his face immediately lit up, a smile illuminating his entire body. He wore a sky blue suit, with a tie covered in small hearts.

“You look amazing.” He greets, standing to come to you. “I know it’s been a long week baby, and you’re right you deserve to know what’s going on.” He spreads his arms out, gesturing to everything around him. “I’ve been building this, and trying to figure something out.”

“What is it?” He doesn’t answer at first, instead leading you over to the table, where a velvet box rests between the plates.

“I’m not about to ask you to marry me, so you don’t have to break my fingers,” He jokes, and you realize you had been squeezing his hand at the thought. “That would be saved for another time.” He picks up the box, turning to you again, and opening it.

“Its a key.” You remark. He chuckles at the blunt reply.

“It is. To a house in Los Angeles.” You manage to drag your eyes up to his face, where its obvious that he’s nervous. “My contract is over, and I want to go home, but you are part of my home.”

“You want me to come with you to LA?” You can’t believe what you’re hearing, you had been so worried about the possibility of him doing something devious, you had totally forgotten his contract had expired.

“I love you, and I know I haven’t been great at showing it recently, but I can’t imagine living without you. I know we’re young, which is why I wasn’t going to propose just yet, but I don’t want to go back there without you. My parents love you, and you’ve always talked about wanting to move there someday, so this is your chance.” He lets out a shaky breath. “So please, come home with me?”

#mark tuan #mark tuan imagine #mark tuan imagines #got7 mark #got7 imagines #got7 imagine #got7

100 notes · View notes

bcbdrums · 3 years

Text

Sand, Snowmen, and Aloha Conversations

A belated entry into whitem's fanfic challenge, to write a Christmas story in the month of July. I took the concept a bit further... Enjoy!

Read on: AO3 FFn

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

Sand, Snowmen, and Aloha Conversations

Drakken hefted his bag higher on his shoulder, but it still caught on the too-narrow door as he fairly stumbled out of the airport shuttle and followed Shego to escape the crowd on the discomfitingly warm December evening. The heat further turned his stomach which had already been unsettled from the flight, the shuttle ride, and questionable snacks. He didn't need to look up to see Shego's knowing smirk as the seemingly hours-long debate regarding temperature came back to his mind.

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

Earlier...

"If you'd only put some clothes on..." Drakken grumbled, though it was halfhearted at that moment.

Seated on the floor against the wall of the San Francisco airport and waiting for their delayed flight to arrive, Drakken was sure they were quite the spectacle in addition to being the only blue and green people in the place. Shego was already dressed for their Hawaiian vacation in shorts, tank top, and a thin over-shirt. He himself was dressed for the drizzly San Francisco weather, and that coupled with the air conditioning made the airport very cold.

He had been taunting Shego for hours about her chosen attire, but she had firmly teased him right back that he would be too hot when they reached their final destination. In the present however, she was too cold, so as his back was leaned against the wall with the great window above him, Shego was between his legs with her back leaned against his chest, his arms wrapped around her folded knees and her hands beneath his. He had refused to give up his jacket to her.

"You'll see when we get there. Besides. You can't tell me this isn't nice?"

Drakken rolled his eyes as her fingers laced between his. It would be nicer if they weren't on an airport floor, and people weren't giving them looks.

At that moment, the clerk announced their flight had arrived and the impatient passengers began lining up to board. Shego leaned her head back against Drakken's cheek when he made to move, and he paused.

"You still have time to change," she said with a smirk.

"And end up more blue from the cold?"

"It's actually 'bluer.'"

"Oh har har."

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

Present

Drakken rolled his eyes when he arrived at Shego's side, ready for the teasing to continue, but she was focused elsewhere. He looked first at her face, his brow rising at her pleased and yet peaceful expression. Then he turned and set his eyes on the resort for the first time, and his jaw fell open in shock.

The first sight his eyes beheld was red, and then the warm shine of strings of colored lights. While lacking the familiar pines, firs, and other cold-weather trees that gave him the feeling of winter, the palms and other tropical trees had been decorated with strings of white lights wrapped around their trunks and colored lights strung between them. There were also large bushes lining the walk and one prominent one that had been shaped into a tree, all utterly covered in large red leaves, which Drakken realized with a sense of awe were poinsettias.

His concern that Christmas in Hawaii would be miserable started to melt away, but then his gaze fell upon a billboard lit with floodlights that made his stomach turn even more. The sign professed what he had been telling Shego for weeks was impossible, to "Enjoy Christmas in Hawaii!" but beneath the text were what he could only think of as atrocities: a very tanned Santa Claus sporting flowered swim trunks beneath his open robe, seated in a beach chair with a fruity drink in hand, flip-flops on his feet and sunglasses on his face. Next him stood a trimmer-than-typical Mrs. Claus wearing grass skirt, coconuts, and numerous leis and a hibiscus in her hair.

"Come on," Shego said happily, oblivious to his horror and disgust at the sight in front of him. Drakken watched for a moment as she strolled ahead of him, bag comfortably over her shoulder and her pony-tailed hair swaying behind her as she strode toward the resort in her perfectly weather-appropriate attire. Too many emotions were swirling through Drakken for him to even form a coherent thought, and he merely followed behind her as sweat began to pool at the back of his neck from the heat and humidity.

When they arrived at the lobby, Drakken felt a wave of relief at seeing a massive traditional Christmas tree, but a new disaster met his eyes and he suddenly felt he might lose control of his stomach. True, poinsettias were liberally placed in every direction he could see, but the blow-up snowmen wearing Hawaiian t-shirts, leis, and sunglasses ruined any winter-y aesthetic they may have given.

Drakken heard Shego give a choked gasp, but his closer look at the Christmas tree caused him to forget whatever must have startled her. While the tree was brightly lit and had numerous colored baubles of different sizes, everything else about it was distinctly Hawaiian. Instead of strings of cranberries or popcorn, it had massive flower garlands in white and yellow. He could hardly see the green of the tree for the other various tropical flowers that had been affixed to the branches, veritably concealing that the tree was an evergreen. And worse still was the decoration that topped the tree: Santa, this time without his robe, wearing a brown grass skirt with his round belly on display for the world to see. He still had his red fur hat, but wore no robe or shirt and had only the ukulele in his arms to provide any hint of modesty.

"Check-in is over here," Shego said in a rush, grabbing Drakken's arm and pulling him so hard he had to clamp his jaw together as the upset in his tummy lurched up his esophagus.

He lowered his gaze and went through the motions as Shego handled the majority of their check-in, focusing on keeping his stomach calm as his emotions still swirled undefinable within him. All he knew for sure was that he was too hot, felt like throwing up, and was certain that Christmas was ruined.

The walk to their suite was just as mind-twisting, with more poinsettias mixed in with distinctly Hawaiian decor, including miniature decorated palm trees, some distinctly fashioned to be shaped like evergreens. Once inside the room, Shego dropped her bag on one of the chairs and Drakken watched her seem to relax. What had gotten her tense?

"I'm thinking room service tonight?" Shego said cheerfully as she pulled off her scrunchie and shook out her hair.

Drakken looked at the poinsettia plant on the table and the Christmas...palm in the corner. He stepped further into the room after Shego, letting his bag slide off his arm to the floor as he saw a new atrocity in the form of a decorative sculpture on the nightstand next to the bed: Santa again, in Hawaiian attire, seated in an outrigger canoe pulled by dolphins through crashing waves.

"Shego."

"Hn?" She turned and regarded him, pausing in the middle of re-tying her hair.

"I want to go home."

Shego's eyes narrowed and she frowned, looking almost hurt for a moment before her expression hardened.

"We're not talking about this again," Shego answered, turning away and grabbing the TV remote. "You probably stink under all those layers, so get out of those clothes and take a shower. I'm going to look at the surfing forecast."

Drakken watched as Shego sat on the foot of the bed and crossed her legs, swinging her foot back and forth as she leaned back on her hand and started flipping channels.

The conversation clearly over, Drakken grumbled as he went through the motions of yanking off his jacket and fumbling through his carry-on bag for his toiletries. He was about to protest that he didn't have enough of his luggage to shower, but at that moment a knock at the door heralded a courier with the rest of their things. And so it was about ten minutes later that found Drakken in the opulent shower under the most luxurious stream of water he'd ever experienced, and unable to enjoy it.

He had agreed to Christmas in Hawaii because, as Shego had pointed out, they had never taken a vacation just for the two of them, and they had almost spent an inordinate amount of time in freezing climates due to both his preferences and world-takeover schemes. His argument that they had a lair in the Caribbean was brushed off, since truthfully, she was never out enjoying that beach. And the rocky outcroppings mixed with rough sand weren't really anything that could be enjoyed, anyway.

Drakken hadn't worried too much initially about his favorite holiday being spent away from the snow, until Shego had started discussing all of the tropical traditions she wanted them to partake in. Luaus, surfing, and learning to hula were not among the things he wanted to do while celebrating Christmas. And this new revelation that the islanders seemed content to mock everything about the holiday made it all the worse.

The shower settled Drakken's stomach, but not his mind. He spent most of the time preparing what he felt was a logical argument for returning home, or perhaps going to a mountain retreat for vacation. Cocoa-moo in front of a cozy fire enticed him at least, and he was more than willing to compromise and give her a tropical vacation even if it wasn't his cup of tea...as long as it wasn't during Christmas.

When he emerged from the bathroom, clad in his pajamas, he opened his mouth ready to begin his speech, but Shego's behavior took him aback. She had startled at the sound of the door opening, and was hurriedly changing the channel on the TV. Drakken glanced at the screen to see a weather report playing in the split second before she turned the device off entirely, dropping the remote on the bed and raking her fingers back through her hair.

What was wrong with her?

"How's the shower?" she asked in a rush, nearly fumbling on the words.

"...It's nice. Shego—"

"Good, I'm going to take one and you look here at these."

Shego had rolled back and grabbed a small stack of magazines and brochures from the nightstand next to the bed, and stood up and thrust them in his hands. Drakken looked down to see that the magazines were clearly useless advertisements, but there was also a brochure about sights to see and events they could partake in, and a special one due to the holiday.

"I want to go surfing first thing in the morning, but we should work out a schedule for the rest of the day."

Drakken blinked in confusion between the periodicals in his hands and Shego, who still looked nervous as she moved to her suitcase to take out the things she would need for a shower. He sat down on the bed with a grimace and pushed aside the holiday brochure in favor of a laminated one that looked like it always sat on the room's nightstand and only occasionally had fingerprints wiped off of it. The first page explained the tradition of the Luau, and so he narrowed his eyes and began to read it.

The brochure was extremely detailed, and so intrigued was he by the tradition of cooking a pig underground, that he hadn't even realized Shego had vanished into the shower until he lifted his eyes to ask her a question. He listened for a few moments to the sound of running water through the walls, and then looked down again. In his peripheral vision he glimpsed the holiday brochure, which was embossed with a swim-trunks clad Santa, this time surfing in a canoe over rough waves as the dolphins pulled him toward the islands. Drakken felt a swirl in his stomach and didn't even open it to see what the "special event" on the beach was the next day.

He set all the magazines and brochures back on the nightstand as the weighty thought of Christmas being ruined settled over his mind again. But for Shego's sake...he would have to try. She was clearly set on staying.

He looked for the TV remote in hopes of watching something mindless for distraction, but it wasn't on the bed where he'd seen Shego drop it, nor was it on the TV stand.

A search that took too long and ended in frustration revealed it wasn't on any other surface in the room either, nor under the bed. Drakken was scowling in mystified annoyance when as a last resort he yanked open one of the dresser drawers and then stared blankly at the remote sitting on the wood inside the otherwise empty space.

"Why would she put it in there?" Drakken said to himself as he debated giving up on it at that point and just going to sleep. But he decided to try seeing what was on anyway.

He sat back against the pillows and turned the TV on and after a quick glance at the news station she'd left it on, he flipped the channel. What he saw then caused him to lurch forward, startled. For just a split second, he could have sworn he saw the familiar green, red, and white ending title card of Snowman Hank and heard the final chord of the guitar. But the image changed to a commercial for chocolates instantly with a new jingle to displace whatever else might have logged in his mind.

The bathroom door opened, and Drakken turned with the intent to question Shego about the hiding of the remote and the possible programming on TV that night. But his words failed him when he saw her.

She had donned a nightgown he had never seen before, deeply cut in the front in a V and asymmetrical from her hip down to mid-thigh on the other side. The fabric was iridescent, shining dark blue and teal as she walked, and it was also translucent, revealing she'd chosen to wear nothing else beneath. Her hair was fluffed behind her as she'd chosen not to wash it.

"I think we're due for a little...relaxation, before bed," she cooed with a smirk. Drakken continued to stare at her, from her face clear of all makeup and showing her natural beauty, to the natural beauty of the rest of her highlighted by the nightgown.

Before he knew it, he was blinking back again at the TV commercial as Shego had slid behind him on the bed, her body pressed against his back as she began to gently massage his temples.

"Oooh..." was the sound that came out of him, and he almost blindly turned the TV off and tossed the remote before reaching back to set his hands on Shego's knees and begin slowly rubbing his hands up and down the smooth skin.

Shego shifted to set her legs alongside both of his, giving him access to more of her as her hands also traveled down to his shoulders. Everything else forgotten with the warmth of his wife pressed against him, Drakken felt a rush as he turned around to hasten her intentions for the evening. She hummed in delight and slid down as his lips met hers powerfully and he knelt above her, the world forgotten.

"I think..." Shego said breathlessly, "we should continue this in bed."

Drakken chortled and made to get off of her, but as he turned his head he came face to face with the figurine of Santa Claus in the outrigger canoe, pulled by dolphins over the waves, the bearded man's painted eyes looking right back at his with mirth.

"Drakken? Drakken? Uh, getting into bed? Drakken?"

"I...I can't."

"What?" Shego said in annoyed confusion.

"I can't with...that thing looking at me."

Shego groaned. "Drakken..."

"And that...thing over there," he said and gestured to the decorated palm tree. "None of these things are Christmas."

"Dr. D...." Shego whined as Drakken sat up fully and moved to the other side of the bed.

"It's my favorite holiday, Shego. I don't mind enduring this...tropical exile, but can't we do it any other time of year?"

He cast a scowl at the tree in the corner once more before looking back to Shego, and he recoiled at the look on her face. She looked near to tears, but the anger in her eyes was fighting for dominance. He realized suddenly he might have gravely miscalculated, but Shego didn't give him a chance to reconsider his words.

She threw back the blankets on her side of the bed and crawled beneath the covers, turning out the light with so much force Drakken was surprised she didn't break the switch. He blinked at her form in the dark as she shifted around repeatedly to try to get comfortable, finally settling on her side.

"Tomorrow morning we're going surfing," was her only response through the dark, her voice muffled by the blankets.

Drakken watched the too-quick rise and fall of her shoulder as she breathed. After several moments of indecision, he finally sighed and crawled beneath the blankets himself. He would give her her tropical vacation... But forever after, Christmas would be done his way.

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

A good night's sleep, thankfully, had helped with the start of a new day. Drakken still felt his favorite holiday was a loss for the year, but worse was the idea of an upset Shego for days or even longer. So he kept his mourning about Christmas to himself and instead greeted her that morning with his best smile as soon as he felt her shift in the beginnings of wakefulness.

Shego was surprised, blinking blearily up at him as he imposed above her, but her hands instinctively and sleepily gripped the fabric of at his shoulders.

"Merry Christmas Eve," Drakken said, before continuing the greeting with a kiss.

To his relief and joy, Shego responded, and from there they picked up where he'd forced them to leave off the night before.

Later, after the joint shower Shego insisted on—for time, was the excuse—and then a quick continental breakfast, they were back in their room with Shego hurrying him to dress for the surfing.

"Are you sure I won't need a wetsuit?" Drakken asked.

Shego's groaned reply told him he'd asked that question too many times since leaving the lair.

"The water is warm... And the waves aren't that choppy, even you should be able to handle them."

"Need I remind you that I have achieved many a death-defying stunt, a number of them at your side."

"And I'm not going to be babysitting you to make sure you don't drown or get eaten by sharks while you—"

Shego stopped short as Drakken held up his swim trunks in front of him with a smile.

"Where...did you get...those?" Shego asked slowly, her eyes wide and her expression incredulous.

"On ePier," Drakken said with a half-grin, admiring his one-of-a-kind Snowman Hank swim trunks.

"Wait...wait is that what you were freaking out over that one time?"

Drakken glanced away guiltily, and Shego continued.

"When you were going to spend half the funds for our new plan on something but I stopped you and you lost the bidding and had a tantrum?"

Drakken huffed as he changed into the swim attire. "Thanks to you I had to hack the website..."

"For...those?"

Drakken looked up to see her expression had changed from one of shock and annoyance to one of amusement.

"What?" he asked, his eyes narrowing.

"They're so...so..."

Drakken glanced down.

"Old fashioned," Shego finished with a choked sound, holding back laughter.

The swim trunks were shorter than the modern styles he'd seen in Shego's magazines, and the material was different as well. The design had Hank's face directly in the front, his red nose centered and handlebar mustache leading to where the shorts split in the middle for his legs. The rest of the design was a teal backdrop with falling snow. Truthfully, Drakken wished the beloved character hadn't been split in the design, but they were the only adult Snowman Hank swim trunks ever made.

"Probably for the best he never had the carrot nose."

"What?" Drakken said, looking up.

Shego blinked at him and then shook her head. "Never-mind... Don't forget sunscreen. We'll be more likely to burn when we're on the water."

Drakken checked that they had everything they would need in the large beach bag as Shego changed, distracted from his task by stealing several glances at her as she changed into a new suit—black and patterned over with teal tropical leaves and red and pink flowers, all of which set off her skin tone beautifully.

"Got everything?" Shego asked as she pushed her sunglasses onto her face.

"Mm-hm," Drakken said automatically, still staring as Shego slipped a wrap on over her suit and dropped a straw hat onto her head.

"Then let's go."

Drakken tried to focus on Shego's surfing instructions as they walked the halls, keeping his eyes on either her or the floor as to avoid seeing the abominable decor that was a sad mimic of his favorite holiday. Poinsettias were ruined for him forever, not that he had ever liked them much to begin with, and he was struggling not to now view Christmas trees and lights as mere commercial trappings as opposed to the joyful memory-inducing traditions he had grown up with and cherished all his life.

They exited the hotel and continued the short distance to the beach, where Drakken noted with mild interest a stage had been set up for a concert later, and there were a few tents and a massive blow-up snowman at least twenty-five feet high that he could only see the back of from that angle. Drakken tried not to cringe and hoped there wasn't too much more non-traditional holiday decor to distract him from trying to make Shego happy on her desired vacation.

They walked amid a crowd towards a surprising number of vendors' tents and where the surfboard rental was located. But when they arrived finally on the beach and could fully view everything, they both stopped short. Shego recoiled with a cringe of disgust, while Drakken's eyes widened and his face bloomed into a smile of unbridled joy.

The giant blow-up snowman was in fact...Snowman Hank. A quick glance around showed that many of the vendors were selling Snowman Hank merchandise, some of which was new that Drakken had never seen before, while another tent had a sign that clearly said "vintage." The banner above the stage read "Hank-a-palooza" and Drakken realized that a number of tourists were wearing Snowman Hank t-shirts, had Snowman Hank inflatables, and were carrying a variety of other merchandise. In the two nearest tents they saw small TVs playing the beloved movie.

"I..."

"Why...?"

Neither of the couple had a chance to further their thoughts, as a passing man suddenly noticed Drakken's swim trunks and approached him.

"Dude! Which tent did you get those at? The vintage shop said they haven't seen those in years!"

"I...bought them on ePier," Drakken answered haltingly.

"Aw man... I won a pair there once, but somehow after the bidding had closed someone else snuck in a higher one. Must have been last second."

Drakken swallowed and gave a nervous smile.

"Well, see you at the show tonight!"

"Wait," Shego interjected, and Drakken thought her voice sounded a bit hoarse, "what show tonight?"

"You mean you don't know?" the man answered incredulously. "It's Hank-a-palooza! Oh you're tourists, huh..."

Drakken nodded, looking past the man at a person in a Snowman Hank costume that must have been absurdly hot in the heat and humidity on the beach, standing next to a snow-cone stand and delivering the product to eager children.

"Yeah we do this every year, man! At first it was small, sort of a cult gathering thing according to everyone else around. But after the show stopped airing on Christmas Eve...it exploded! And it got even bigger once we got permission to air the show on local networks."

Drakken thought to the night before and Shego's hiding of the remote. He glanced at her, his brow raised in question. She hurriedly looked away and began fidgeting with her hair.

"Tonight the Rocky Mountain Boys are playing all the songs from the movie, and after the concert we'll have a midnight screening on the beach!"

Drakken felt a fresh bubble of joy rise up inside of him and he grabbed Shego's arm in glee as his feet began dancing in excitement.

"Like a drive-in?"

"Yeah, but just laid out on the beach man! Best of both worlds!"

"Ohhhh will they serve cocoa-moo and peanut butter stickies?"

"Dude," the man scoffed, "we can't watch Snowman Hank without his signature Christmas treats!"

"Ohhh goody! Shego! Christmas is saved after all!"

Shego pulled against Drakken's hold on her arm slightly, and though she wore sunglasses he could see the barely concealed grimace on her face. But her look couldn't burst his bubble of happiness as he considered that he'd still get to have one of his most important traditions, and in a bigger way than ever before. The only way it could be better is if they would be curled in front of a fireplace on a snowy evening.

"...Yeah," she finally said, drawing out the word. Drakken felt the first twinge of worry as she used her free hand to pry at his fingers on her arm. He released her then and stared at her hidden eyes in concern. "Right now we're going surfing, so," she turned a fake smile to the man who had joined them, "thank you so much!"

And with that, she grabbed Drakken's elbow and dragged him in the direction of the surf board rentals.

As they walked there were a number of comments and call-outs from passers-by about Drakken's vintage swim trunks, and he acknowledged them enthusiastically. But it seemed that Shego's grip became tighter each time. Drakken couldn't feel too concerned though at seeing more Snowman Hank decor and memorabilia than he'd ever dreamed. They passed tents with speakers playing his favorite songs, and it lifted him back into the holiday joy he had feared lost on the vacation. He felt hope for the first time that perhaps he could do both—give Shego the vacation she wanted, and still enjoy Christmas.

When they reached the surfboard rental stand, Shego finally let go of his arm.

"You didn't put on sunscreen yet, did you," she said with an edge, beginning to fumble in their bag.

"No... But, Shego! We can still enjoy Christmas!"

She turned toward him suddenly, lowering her sunglasses and revealing the fire in her eyes.

"We are not lying on the beach tonight and watching a singing snowman on a giant screen. I was trying to get away from all of that!"

Drakken recoiled, all of the warmth inside him fading to something chilled even as the sun continued to heat his skin.

"You...? You don't like Chri—"

"Come on, it's our turn," Shego cut him off and strode past him to the stand, her sunglasses hiding her eyes again.

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

Throughout the day of surfing, hula lessons, and partaking of tropical meals including something disgusting called poi, Drakken found he missed the previous day when he had only been cringing over the island's defiling of his favorite holiday and mourning the loss of his favorite traditions for the year. Now it was worse, with the fear that Shego loathed his favorite holiday.

He had spent the day putting on a brave face, both to make Shego happy and also in hopes of bargaining for Snowman Hank that night. Some of the island activities had even been fun. He didn't know yet what she had planned for Christmas day, except the traditional exchange of gifts and a Luau for dinner in the evening. Since he had been going along with all of her whims, he didn't think the one night of watching his favorite movie was too much to ask for. He just needed the opportunity to bring it up. And perhaps find out why she didn't like Christmas, too.

The sun was already setting, it being winter, and the air was a little less humid. He suggested a walk along the beach, and Shego, who had been in good humor since their surfing that morning, readily agreed.

With clouds layered across the sky, the sun was well-hidden and shades of violet directly above morphed down into reds, pinks, and finally gold at the horizon. The light they walked in the slow-rolling surf was already fairly dim, and Drakken allowed himself to forget about his concerns as he simply enjoyed the feel of his wife's hand in his and her warmth at his side.

This feeling only grew when Shego drew near to him and set her head on his shoulder, her arm moving to wrap around his waist. He matched the gesture and was glad they had found a secluded area, hidden by trees and some volcanic rock as Shego stepped up on her toes to kiss him.

"Mmmh, sit with me," she said softly when their lips parted, and before Drakken knew it, she was drawing him down into the break of the waves on the sand. He didn't mind, as they had just finished another round of surfing until the light grew too dim, and he drew her close as she settled between his legs, knees drawn up to her chest in a position reminiscent of that at the airport the morning prior. He set his legs beside hers and wrapped his arms around her, and she nestled back against him.

Drakken took a deep breath.

"Shego?" he asked as a wave broke over their feet and dampened the bottom of their suits where they sat in the sand. "Why don't you like Christmas?"

Shego stiffened slightly in his embrace, but after a moment she relaxed. Her hair was draped back over Drakken's shoulder and it tickled his arm where the breeze blew it. She leaned back to glance up at him slightly, and then looked back out at the waves slowly rolling up the beach.

"It's not that I don't like it," she replied with a sigh. "It's more...I've had enough."

"Had enough?" Drakken pressed, unsure what she meant. They had never gone as overboard as he wanted to during villainy out of necessity. One year in fact he had even forgone almost everything for the sake of a world domination plan, so he wasn't sure how to interpret her words.

"Yeah. It's all too commercial. I'm not even sure why you enjoy..." Shego gestured idly as if to the array of decor he would have liked to put up, "all of it. And..." she said through a breath, "I'm not sure how to...how to do all those things, either."

Drakken furrowed his brow in thought. "Don't know how to do it?"

"You know how my family grew up. And then after the comet, everything was different... We didn't do these...big extravaganzas that you like. And I'm sorry Dr. D., but it all just feels fake anyway."

Drakken thought again, and as he was about to reply Shego drew another breath.

"The cheap little holiday things my family did were enough anyway. Christmas wasn't about all the lights and traditions, it was about...being with each other."

The last was nearly mumbled, and Drakken wondered what sad memories of the past she had drug up to be able to answer him honestly. He watched the slow roll of another wave across the sand as he held her closer, drawing a breath through his nose before giving his own response.

"That's a lot of why I enjoy the traditions."

"What?" Shego asked, looking up at him.

"Because they were things I used to...do with my family. With my mother. And...sometimes I think I remember putting strings of popcorn around a tree as my father held me up... But I might be imagining that."

Shego shifted a little to see him better, her eyes encouraging him to continue.

"I think it's...the memories everything carries," he concluded, meeting her eyes, his brow twisting upward as he hoped for her understanding. Shego met his gaze with wide eyes for a moment before she looked down with a grimace.

"You really wanna go to that thing tonight," she said with a scoff.

Drakken blinked, the hope falling to worry. "Please, Shego?"

He watched as her look gradually seemed to soften then, her eyes alive as they clearly raced over something she was processing. Finally, she turned to look up at him.

"Just this—"

"Oh, thank you Shego!" he said, giving her a squeeze and mushing her face against his jaw.

"Just this one thing, though," she finished, her voice a bit muffled.

Drakken nodded, her damp hair rubbing against his cheek. Things wouldn't be the same or the way his heart wanted, but at least he could still have Snowman Hank...and bigger and better than ever before.

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

Shego leaned back on her sun lounger, watching Drakken. He was swaying in a line of other people, his arms around them and theirs around him as the final song of the concert was played from the stage and everyone sang along loudly with them. After that there would be a short break before the movie would begin, and Shego had taken the opportunity to get in line for hot chocolate and snacks before the rush, and so was already settled and waiting for the raucous event to end.

She glanced at Drakken occasionally in the minutes following the wild applause as he happily chatted with fellow fans of the cartoon snowman, but it wasn't too long before they all went back to their own groups, or joined the massive crowd now seeking refreshment. Shego was looking up at the lights strung between trees when she finally heard Drakken's feet running toward her.

"You're going to kick a bunch of sand up here!" she protested, sitting up quickly in the dark.

"Shego! If we don't hurry they'll run out of—"

Shego's holding up of the cups of hot chocolate stopped him, and she watched him study the beverages in her hands and then the plate of peanut butter stickies on the blanket next to her, along with some other treats she had procured that she would enjoy.

"Is that mango?" Drakken asked as he sat down in his own chair and settled in across from her.

"Yes," she said, handing him his cup.

"That's not really in the spirit of the season," Drakken protested mildly.

Shego gave him a look. "In case you forgot, I'm not really in the spirit of the season."

Drakken's face fell slightly, and Shego mentally kicked herself. She thought back over the day, and how he had gone along with everything she wanted to do without complaint.

It was true she didn't like cartoons. Especially ones with singing animals and anthropomorphized objects. It was an interest she simply couldn't share with Drakken. And she had been rather bothered herself by the non-traditional decor, both for the fact that she had been trying to escape commercial trappings, and also that everything she considered 'Christmas' had a strange different spin to it that made her feel even more out of place.

All she had wanted for the holiday was the beach, and him.

"Tomorrow night is your Luau," Drakken said, breaking through her thoughts. His voice was slightly unsteady. "I'm curious about this cooking a pig underground... But I don't want to try poi again."

Drakken grimaced at the thought apparently as he picked up a peanut butter sticky and took a bite. His face cleared then as he smiled, but Shego still saw hints of worry creasing his forehead. She thought again to everything he had done for her that day, to give her the Christmas she had wanted.

"But first, we have the morning," she said carefully, drawing his attention. "We can have room service bring us...whatever we want for breakfast, and I have some gifts to put under the tree for you. Even if it is the wrong kind of tree."

Shego watched as Drakken hesitated to respond, his eyes revealing his uncertainty over her gesture.

"It would be nice if it were a morning like this one was, too," she said, standing up suddenly to squeeze into his chair next to him.

Drakken's face flushed, and he only responded by looking at her curiously as he swallowed down the treat with a drink of hot chocolate.

Shego let her gaze fall for a moment. "Sorry...if I ruined your Christmas."

Drakken set his cup down and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her to lay across his chest.

"You didn't," he said with a warm smile.

Shego could taste the chocolate on his lips when he kissed her, and the warmth that bloomed in her chest was not from the hot beverage they had partaken in. She wanted to take the moment further, but Drakken broke away suddenly and she watched his eyes lift and his face brighten with joy.

"It's starting!" he said with glee, giving her a squeeze. Every hint of disappointment or uncertainty was gone from his face as he looked at the large, colorful titles being projected across the giant screen strung up between palm trees. Shego couldn't help herself but to chuckle. She had chosen this man, after all.

"Oh, Shego, could you hand me my cocoa-moo?"

Shego reached down to the blanket and carefully passed him his beverage and then moved the plate of snacks to rest on his thigh where they could both reach them. She took a sip of her own drink before nestling down against his shoulder, the strains of the song that was becoming familiar finally registering in her ears.

"'It's not the turkey and the stuffing, nor the gifts around the tree,'" Drakken began quoting along with the opening theme. "'It's a warm and fuzzy feeling, that begins with you...?'"

He stopped and looked down to Shego, his brow raised. The dialogue of the movie had continued on—something about putting away petty problems—as he stared into her eyes with nothing but love. She felt the warmth in her chest again and returned his look as she leaned up to kiss him, her lips brushing his as she completed the spoken lyric.

"'And me.'"

21 notes · View notes