#i did something terrifying and then i claimed my life as my own | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

gureumz · 10 months

Text

the thinker

rating: explicit

member: sunoo

premise: after someone on your dormitory floor dies, your professor, sunoo, seeks out to solve it himself. concerned and bearing responsibility, you offer to help (in more ways than just gathering evidence). what you discover is more than what you bargained for.

notes: MAJOR DEPICTIONS OF VIOLENCE AND DEATH, graphic retellings of murders, dark themes, again this is a dark fic pls if you can't stomach it don't force yourself, thriller/suspense, fem!reader, law student!reader, law professor!sunoo, student x teacher relationships (all concerned parties are legal), dom!sunoo, slight breeding, dirty talk, light gagging, mentions of pregnancy (unrelated to the reader), lmk if i missed anything i'm fading

a/n: second of my 1k follower special! this was a doozy. changed a little of the premise because the story just took a life of its own oops ! also a late birthday thing for our boy sunoo. longer than the last one please enjoy (responsibly).

ANOTHER DISCLAIMER: i do not, by any means, claim that this is how the person depicted in this story acts or is in real life. this is a work of fiction with a made-up persona. please consume RESPONSIBLY.

a figure stands silently outside her door.

all is quiet. the occasional laughter is heard, but nothing is amiss.

the figure knocks, bowing his head low. he knows about the eyes. the eyes all over the walls.

she opens the door. effortlessly beautiful. a swan blessed in grace.

the figure embraces her. cradles her in his arms. holds her in his hands.

the swan falls.

---

you couldn't wrap your head around it.

a murder. right down the hall from where you slept, where you studied, where you bathed, so oblivious to the carnage taking place just a few doors down.

you heard the guttural, terrified scream of her roommate. everyone on the same floor did. rushing out of your room, your own mind racing with thoughts of the unthinkable, you see yunjin sobbing on the floor in front of her dorm room.

the one she shared with kazuha.

the door was wide open, light spilling out onto the dim hallway. yunjin was still crying, clutching her stomach as if physically pained by what she's seeing.

"s-someone call security, police, anyone!" yunjin shrieked, hands reaching out towards her doorway, hesitant.

some students have rushed to her side to see what she's hysterical about. all of them recoiled once they saw what awaited them in the room.

"she's dead! kazuha's been attacked!"

you blink, unaware that your heart rate had picked up in the few minutes that you recounted the events of that night.

it's been a week now since the school announced an immediate lockdown of the campus. classes were canceled, no one was to leave their dorms unaccounted for. those who live in the university accommodations were not permitted to exit the campus unless personally picked up by their parents or guardians. those who had family in another district, another province, another country lamented feeling trapped.

'what if the killer comes back? isn't keeping us here the wrong move?'

'what if it's one of the students? they need to question us all. especially those on the same floor.'

you had the same thoughts. but you knew how important the first seventy-two hours of the investigation were. so, for the first three days no one left. every floor of every dorm building was guarded. no one was allowed to move about alone. always in twos or more.

you fidget now, unable to focus on the voice droning from the front of the lecture hall. you raise your eyes to see professor kim, pointing at a slide projected on the screen, explaining something about warrants.

he catches your eye and you immediately shift your focus to his presentation.

it's as if nothing happened. a funeral was held, a memorial erected for kazuha in the lobby of the law building, and eventually, classes resumed.

you've heard whispers that yunjin opted out of university accommodations altogether. no one has seen her since.

"right!" you hear professor kim bellow from the front, clapping his hands together and startling everyone in the lecture hall.

for someone with such an amicably handsome face, professor sunoo kim was a ruthless criminal law instructor. he was particular about punctuality and never entertained any suggestions regarding extra credit. he was, by all accounts, as stiff as a board inside the classroom.

"that's all the time i have for you all today. read up on the cases i gave you because i'll be expecting the digests by thursday," professor kim calls out, gathering his belongings.

a hushed chatter falls over the lecture hall as the students start to leave. there haven't been any memos or reminders put recently regarding the murder but it's still the same. in twos or threes. no one is comfortable moving about alone nowadays.

you start to follow, mindlessly collecting your papers and your laptop, but a figure approaching your desk causes you to stop dead in your tracks.

"________," professor kim's voice glides through your ears smoothly. he smiles down at you as you sink back into your seat.

"hi, professor kim, " you greet, nodding briefly in acknowledgment.

"how have you been doing? you've been uncharacteristically quiet today," professor kim points out.

it's true. you're usually one to participate in discussions, always caught up or ahead on the readings. but with the events of the past days, you couldn't bring yourself to care much about anything.

it's not as if you were particularly close to kazuha. she lived on your floor and you've had small talk with her in the common lounge. nothing ever went beyond polite chatter.

"i think everyone's kind of out of it, professor," you reply. "ever since...you know."

you look up to meet professor kim's eyes and his gaze softens when he realizes what you're referring to. he nods understandingly, watching as the rest of the class files out of the lecture hall.

"and whoever did it is still out there," you say lowly, voice dropping to a whisper.

"i know," professor kim agrees, voice suddenly gruff. you watch as his eyebrows pinch together.

"i've been...looking into it," professor kim continues.

you eye him curiously, your back straightening as professor kim perches himself on the table in front of you. you get a whiff of his perfume; sweet but still subtly masculine.

"the police are on the case, but of course i've worked criminal cases like this before, and with my knowledge of the school and its people...i couldn't help but pry a little," professor kim explains, shifting so he could look at you better from his vantage above you.

"what did you find?" you ask, feeling small under the watchful eye of your professor. he grins down at you, reaching over to squeeze your arm briefly.

"i can't tell you," professor kim deflects. after a few moments, he stands, walking back to his desk now but it's too late. you're intrigued, stomach churning in anticipation.

"you can't or you won't?" you call after him. professor kim stops and glances back at you.

"there's the ________ i know," he says, chuckling. he continues on to his desk, packing up the rest of his things. you watch with steely eyes.

"i don't want any rumors about this. it's a tragic event that has no business being turned into campus gossip that will most likely devolve into some urban legend decades from now," professor kim says pointedly as if berating you. you shake your head, unable to contain your curiosity.

"i won't tell anyone, professor kim, i promise," you implore. you rise from your seat, startling the professor.

he regards you for a moment, eyes traveling down your body and only now do you see professor kim. truly see him.

he towers over you, standing tall at a 5'10 or 5'11 based on your estimates. he dresses crisply, but you don't miss the brightly colored socks beneath his perfectly pressed trousers. you take note of the broad expanse of his upper body underneath the short sleeve button-up he has on.

his face, one that you've looked at two times a week for the past six months, fully came into focus now. striking eyes, a sharp nose, lips that were redder than your own. thicker, too. so thick and plump and always shining with what you could only assume was lip balm.

"sunoo," professor kim says after a moment. "call me sunoo when we're not in class."

you swallow, confused. "sir?"

"wrong," sunoo laughs. "just sunoo, please. i can't be any more than five years older than you."

that, too.

his age. so close to his students' that it's not uncommon for a lot of you to wonder if he'd ever messed around with one of you. you vaguely remember thinking that you wouldn't mind being that person.

"sunoo," you repeat. the name feels foreign on your tongue, as if you're stepping over a boundary you're not supposed to cross.

"okay, sunoo. i promise not to tell anyone what you know about the...the incident."

you catch yourself before you blurt out the word 'murder'. fear grips at you, as if saying the word out loud would bring down bad fortune.

sunoo takes a deep breath, slinging the strap of his messenger bag onto his shoulder. he approaches you again and with you standing, you're relatively eye to eye.

"you know what my consultation hours are. come by right after," sunoo says. you nod and seemingly satisfied, sunoo smiles, walking out the door of the lecture hall.

you linger for a moment before you realize you're all alon. a chill runs up your spine. you dash out of the hall faster than you've ever moved in your life.

---

"they're looking into the professors now. it's kind of fucked up, don't you think?"

you lift your eyes from the book you're reading, regarding your friend in confusion.

"what do you mean 'looking into the professors'?" you ask, scooting closer to hear better.

jake sighs, motioning for your whole table to squeeze in tighter. you scan the library quickly, to see if the coast was clear. your other friends press their shoulders against yours, waiting for jake to reveal what it is he has to say.

"they've cleared most of the students on kazuha's floor. it wasn't one of them." at this, jake turns to you and you nod.

you're brought back to the day after the murder. policemen knocked on everyone's door, questioning and taking witness statements. you had held your roommate's hand the whole time while you were being pressed for answers. you remember crying that night in fear for your own life.

"it only makes sense they widen their search," you supply. "they started with the professors teaching the classes kazuha was taking, correct?"

jake nods. "exactly."

"how is that fucked up?" sunghoon asks from your left, directly across jake. the latter rolls his eyes, tapping the table in mild annoyance.

"think about your own professors. do any of them look like the type to murder you? to want to murder you?" jake says in a whisper-shout. the whole table falls silent, nervous eyes meeting each other.

"no," sunghoon finally answers.

"right?! but what if one of them was capable. we wouldn't know. and if it was one of her professors, i'm sure kazuha suspected nothing, either" jake explains, emphasizing every word with a finger to the table.

you shiver, suddenly overcome with a dreadful fear.

"i need to go," you say, pushing yourself off your chair. you glance at your watch and realize it's time for you to meet sunoo, anyway.

you bid a quick goodbye to everyone before storming out of the library. the hallway seems even chillier than the freezing library. you wrap your arms around you protectively.

---

"you look shaken up. what's wrong?"

you swallow thickly as you shut the door behind you, eyes downcast. your breathing is labored, having run all the way from the library to the building that housed the professor's offices.

you look up to see sunoo standing by his desk, a look of concern on his face. he crosses the room in a few wide strides, fingers gently prying your chin up so you could look at him.

"did you run?" sunoo asks, reaching into his pocket. he hands a handkerchief to you, gesturing at your forehead.

"it's chilly in here. dry off before you get a cold," sunoo advises.

you take the handkerchief, absently dabbing at your forehead. you lean against the heavy wooden door.

"sorry, prof—i mean, sunoo," you begin, trying to steady your breath. "i came from a class and didn't want to miss you here."

sunoo smiles. "i was going to wait for you, anyway."

you meet his eyes but you say nothing, opting to straighten yourself up instead. this is the closest you've been to sunoo, and the way he looks so worried for you nearly threatens a smile out of you.

"you know, we could both get into big trouble for this," sunoo points out, walking back to his desk. he eases himself onto his chair, motioning for you to do the same on one of the two seats provided for his consultees.

you sit, suddenly nervous about what sunoo could possibly have figured out. you watch him rifle through a folder of papers before pulling one out.

"did you know kazuha had a boyfriend?" sunoo begins, setting the paper down and pointing to it. it's a copy of someone's student file.

you lift it to see better and a familiar name is typed at the very top.

yoshi kanemoto.

another post-grad getting his master's in anthropology or some other. part of the post-grad and law school varsity basketball team. he's a friendly enough guy, if just a tad bit shy. he and kazuha haven't been going out long, or so you've heard. you've seen him around your floor a few times and he didn't seem to ring any alarm bells in your head.

"it's always the boyfriend first," you observe.

when violent crimes against women are committed, the first place law enforcement looks into is any present or past relationships.

"accomplished young man, if i do say so myself," sunoo declares. "totally cooperative and was said to be devastated with the news."

"but...?" you ask, anticipating a caveat with the positive introduction.

"reports say they were fighting the night of the murder," sunoo expounds, shrugging.

"was there ever a history of violence? abuse?" you question.

sunoo shakes his head. "none that i've heard. but i was trying to pull some strings at the detective's office the other day. i guess i pulled one that put this whole thing into perspective."

you suck in a breath. "what did you find?"

there was a pause. sunoo purses his lips, exhaling.

"kazuha was nine weeks pregnant when she was killed."

you blink. it takes you a moment to realize what you just heard. you fall back against your chair, a hand coming up to cover your mouth. the hairs on your arm prickle.

"so...you think the fight was because of that. a-and yoshi killed her to get out of the responsibility?" you ask, voice trembling.

sunoo shrugs again. "maybe. maybe not. but it definitely puts kanemoto in a bad light."

you don't say anything, a weight in your chest rendering you speechless. you and sunoo sit in silence for nearly a minute, with sunoo carefully studying your expression.

"no one else knows this. only the detectives and me. and now, you," sunoo informs. "so, i need you to be very quiet about this."

"of course," you immediately agree. "i won't tell a soul."

sunoo smiles sympathetically, pushing himself off his chair. he comes around the desk, moving to sit across from you. he holds his hand out to you, waiting.

you place your hand in his, relaxing as he runs a thumb over your knuckles.

"i'm sorry for dragging you into this," sunoo says, patting the top of your hand with his other one. "but when my top student asks, it's hard to refuse."

you laugh at this, eyes landing on your clasped hands.

"thank you for entertaining my...unusual request," you say, chuckling lightly.

"anything else you've discovered?" you ask, averting your eyes to the papers on sunoo's desk.

"if...i'm allowed to ask," you add, peering back at sunoo momentarily.

sunoo hums, reaching over to the scattered papers on his desk.

"yunjin is taking the rest of semester off, i hear," sunoo says, idly toying with the files.

"smart move," he adds.

you nod, throat thick once again with uncertainty. you stand, pulling your hand away, much to sunoo's surprise.

"leaving so soon?" sunoo questions. you smile, nodding politely.

"it's getting late and i don't really trust the campus nowadays after dark," you reason.

sunoo nods. he gestures for the door and you follow.

"let me walk you to your dorm, then," sunoo offers, smiling. a flash of something passes his eyes and you recognize it as hesitance.

"you don't have to," you automatically answer. you pause, realizing that you'd be walking alone at dusk through paths and hallways where a killer may have potentially walked.

the thought alone fills you with a visceral fear.

"i know," sunoo agrees. he hurriedly rushes to his desk, grabs his phone and keys before returning to your side.

"and i totally understand if you don't want me to, but i would feel much more at ease if i did," sunoo says, eyes pleading.

you nod, already reaching for the knob. "alright."

sunoo seems relieved as the two of you walk out of his office. he locks it before you start your way down the hall.

the journey is quiet, with sunoo's hands in his pockets and yours clasped tightly around the strap of your book bag. the night is chilly as you cross the courtyard to get to your dorm building, with barely anyone out at this hour. the walkways are lighted up to the extreme, illuminating every corner of the campus that the beams of light can reach.

you arrive at the entrance to your building and sunoo turns to you.

"now i can go to bed later tonight without any worry," sunoo says with a smile, eyes shaping into crescents. you can't help but grin back.

"please be careful on your way back," you remind. "and go straight home, if you can."

sunoo chuckles, reaching over to lay a hand on your arm. you inhale, the warmth from his palm bleeding through your thin sweater.

"i will," sunoo reassures. "i'll see you thursday, okay?"

you reach up shakily to grasp sunoo's outstretched arm, your own fingers curling around it.

"i'll see you."

---

somewhere, in a shadowy corner behind a bundle of brush, the figure stands, unmoving. concealed by the darkness, he watches through the windows, etching onto his mind the little details.

someone is playing the guitar next to an open window, puffing out smoke despite the building's prohibition on any narcotic substance. someone else is reading, the thick tome in their lap illuminated by a nearby lamp.

and someone else is merely looking out into the night sky. a pretty bundle of hair on their head billowing in the soft breeze. they seem nervous, shaken. lines appear between their eyebrows. like they're deep in thought.

the figure in the dark watches the thinker a little bit more, entranced by their beauty. eventually, they're satisfied. they stalk off into the night, the image of that one person's hair burned into the back of their eyelids.

---

"now, i understand midterms are coming up so i need you to be more attentive with your grades," sunoo eyes the lecture hall, staring pointedly at everyone's faces.

"don't wait until finals to scramble for that passing grade. i try to be gracious, but it's not a free-for-all," he continues. sunoo closes his laptop and the screen behind him goes black.

"remember, pre-test next week. you have tomorrow, the weekend, and monday to study," sunoo says with an air of finality.

"you may leave," he concludes with a wave of his hand. the room lets out a collective breath.

a few students stay behind as the rest trickle out of the doors, hounding sunoo with questions. he answers, face stoic and eyes focused as he gives curt, direct answers.

you stand from your seat, hovering around your desk, unsure when the others would leave. finally, they seem satisfied enough with their ambush on sunoo and they walk off, letting the door slam behind them.

sunoo spots you and his expression brightens. he beckons you over and you approach him, watching his slender fingers work on the stacks of paper in front of him.

"i must say, i'm excited to read your digest later tonight," sunoo admits, a bashful look in his eyes.

you laugh. "who gets excited to read a case digest?"

"i do," sunoo responds abruptly. "only when it comes to yours, though. you're always thorough, including all the details but organizing them in a way that's quick and easy to understand."

"that is an impressive feat, _______," he adds.

you feel your face heat up, your stomach giving way as if falling to the floor beneath you.

"you give me too much credit," you answer meekly, avoiding sunoo's eyes.

"you're a talented student. and i'm sure you'd be a talented lawyer eventually," sunoo reassures, shrugging on his bag. he steps in front of you.

"do you have a class after this?" sunoo asks. you shake your head 'no'.

sunoo nods, eyes trailing off to the side momentarily, as if pondering on something. he turns back to look at you, his signature bright smile returning.

"do you want to grab a bite together?"

you're taken aback by sunoo's offer, unsure what to do or say. the automatic response making its way up was a polite refusal. but sunoo has done you a favor and you think that this might be him asking for something back.

"are you sure?" is what you opt to say. sunoo's eyes narrow but he's smirking, as if this wasn't what he was expecting you to say.

"yes, i'm sure," sunoo replies. "don't worry about all that ethical stuff. i'm only taking you out for coffee and some snacks. besides, we're done with my class now, aren't we? i'm just plain old sunoo to you."

you giggle. "you could never be plain to me."

sunoo's head bows, his cheeks rounding even more as a blush creeps onto his face. you watch, amused, as sunoo obstructs half of his face with his hand.

"just say yes, _______," sunoo says from behind his hand.

you laugh fully this time, noticing as sunoo's ears turn red as well.

"alright, yes. i'd love a coffee with you."

---

the campus cafe stays open until midnight on most days, but since the incident, they've bumped it down to 9 pm.

it's now 8:30 and no one else was at the cafe but you and sunoo, seated at a booth tucked away near the back. the baristas have started to discreetly clean up for the night, emptying the pastry case little by little, but neither you nor sunoo had the heart to suggest leaving.

"that's some gnarly stuff," you comment as you try to digest the story sunoo had just told you about one case he worked on recently involving one woman literally stealing another woman's baby from her womb.

"it was sad overall," sunoo counters, leaning back in his chair from across you. you feel his legs shift against yours and a shiver runs up your spine.

at some point during the hours you've spent talking, sunoo had managed to sandwich your leg between both of his under the table. he held it there, rubbing against your ankle from time to time with his own, like your very own version of footsie.

"the trauma the actual mother got from it was unimaginable. and as for the woman who took her baby away from her, it was clear that she was not right in the right state of mind. those around her refused to see it as that and withheld proper care for her," sunoo recounts, staring directly into your eyes.

his brown irises seem brighter under the yellow-tinged light of the cafe, dancing with something you can't quite put your finger on.

before you could say anything in response, sunoo reaches over the table to where your hand rests. he takes it in his, slowly intertwining your fingers together.

your heart hammers against your chest. sunoo is still looking at you, silent, but a thousand words poring from his intense gaze.

"i'm parked not far from here and my apartment's just a short drive away," sunoo begins, his thumb drawing patterns onto your palm.

your eyebrows raise, your chest heaving as you take deeper breaths. your body seems to seize up.

is this really happening?

"gonna tell me more about your cases, professor?" you ask, purposely taking up his title again in conversation.

sunoo smiles knowingly, digging the nail on his thumb a little deeper into your palm. your breath hitches and you nearly quiver.

"i can. but i'd like to know more about the stories you have to tell if that's okay," sunoo says, rubbing over the little crescent-shaped dent he made.

"what do you want to know?" you question, raising an eyebrow.

sunoo grins.

"everything."

---

true to his word, sunoo seems to want to know everything.

everything about your body, that is. but he reasons that your body can tell a million different stories about yourself, too.

"like how you like being kissed," sunoo says, pulling away momentarily from your lips as he slams the front door shut behind him.

he presses his mouth against yours once more and you groan, pulling him closer by the front of his shirt. sunoo slips his hands under your own blouse, nails dragging down your back as he guides you to the couch.

sunoo distances himself again, kissing down your neck, still clawing at your back. you squirm, whimpering pathetically.

"your body can tell me what your pain tolerance is," sunoo whispers lowly next to your ear, catching your earlobe between his teeth.

"and i have a feeling it's pretty high, sweetheart."

you moan, pressing yourself closer to sunoo. he retaliates by shoving you down onto the sofa. your hair is a mess, your blouse skewed and wrinkled on your body.

"it is," you confirm, quickly pulling your shirt over your head and tossing it to the floor.

sunoo bites his lip, fingers working deftly on his belt. he gets it undone and hurriedly unbuttons and unzips his pants, pulling it down along with his underwear.

"show me," sunoo commands, reaching down to grab your jaw, lining your face up with his half-hard cock.

you sit up, grabbing onto sunoo's firm thighs with one hand to steady yourself. you grab the base of sunoo's cock in the other, pumping slowly. gathering spit in your mouth, you envelop sunoo's length with your mouth, a hiss escaping the man standing above you.

"god, that mouth," sunoo begins, threading his fingers through your hair. "i knew it did more than give me the right answers in class."

you moan around him, peering up at sunoo through your lashes. sunoo's eyes darken as he watches you take more of him, going down all the way to the very base.

you pull back, coughing. sunoo tugs you closer by the hair and you yelp in surprise.

"come on, i know you can do better," sunoo urges.

you wrap your lips around sunoo again, sucking in hard. you start to move, bobbing up and down, taking more and more of sunoo in as you go. he doesn't shy away from noise, moaning and groaning as you repeatedly let his tip hit the back of your throat.

"fuck," sunoo mutters, yanking you off him.

"bend over the back of the couch, baby. keep that cute skirt on."

you wipe the spit from your chin, tears pooling at the corner of your eyes. despite your debauched appearance, looking as if close to crying, the wetness between your legs is undeniable. you reach down to pull your panties off, and a dark spot is clearly visible on the fabric.

sunoo takes it from you, grabbing your chin.

"open," sunoo says. you oblige, letting your jaw fall slack. he shoves your panties in your waiting mouth and you gasp in surprise. the sound muffles around the damp cloth.

"bend over," sunoo barks. "don't make me repeat myself."

you lean over the back of the couch, sticking your hips out as far as they would go. you hear sunoo give a sound of satisfaction, his hands moving your skirt up further your body and exposing your ass and drenched pussy.

without a word of warning, sunoo plunges in half of himself and you cry out. you breathe through your nose, your underwear constricting any airflow through your mouth.

sunoo eases the rest of his way in and your eyes roll into the back of your head.

'yes! god yes! feels so good, sunoo!' is what you want to say but it comes out a garbled mess.

sunoo starts moving, shallow at first, as if pacing himself. slowly, he moves more and more of him out of your pussy before roughly thrusting back in. eventually, he finds a suitable rhythm, his hands gripping at your waist tightly.

"feels amazing," sunoo compliments. "my favorite student. so good for me, so obedient, always doing what i tell her to do."

you whine, looking back at sunoo. you'd give anything to see his face up close at this moment.

sunoo leans down, kissing your temple. he reaches in front of you, pulling the panties from your mouth. drool drips from your lips and you sob in embarrassment.

"dirty," sunoo comments disapprovingly. "drooling all over my couch like some whore."

"i-i'm your whore," you croak out weakly. despite the wetness in your mouth, your throat had seemingly dried up.

sunoo seems impressed by this, chuckling darkly. "yeah? you're my whore? mine to use?"

you nod, moaning wantonly as you feel sunoo deliver a particularly hard thrust.

"yes. d-do anything to me, please," you continue. sunoo grunts, movements speeding up.

your head spins, a knot in your abdomen tightening with each drag of sunoo's cock against your walls. you press your face against the couch, sunoo's name falling from your mouth like a mantra.

"gonna cum? gonna cum all over my cock?" sunoo taunts, pressing his chest against your back.

"yes," is all you can reply. sunoo' bites into your shoulder and you shudder, the sting adding to the sensations coursing through your whole body.

"me too," sunoo says. "gonna pump this pussy with my cum."

you whimper pathetically and this eggs sunoo on. his thrusts turn erratic and you're thrown into another level of pleasure.

"sunoo, i-i'm—!"

your sentence is cut off as your orgasm rocks through your whole body, a high-pitched moan echoing off sunoo's apartment walls. he continues to stretch you out, despite the sensitivity, chasing his own high.

"just like that, sweetheart, so tight, so goddamn tight," sunoo chants. a moment later, he shudders, finishing deep inside you, his whole cock buried in your pulsating hole.

soft whimpers continuously escape you, too dazed to form a coherent sentence. sunoo pulls out moments later, replacing his length with two of his fingers. you protest but it falls on deaf ears.

"i know sweetheart, i know," sunoo coos, kissing down the expanse of your back. you slump against the sofa, weak and panting.

sunoo gently moves you to face him, a soft smile on his face, a total contrast to the filthy act you just participated in.

"feel good?" sunoo asks, kissing your nose.

you nod, eyes suddenly heavy. "s'good."

sunoo chuckles, wrapping his arms around you.

"come on, we need to get you cleaned up."

---

the figure observes through glass tonight.

some of the thinker's hair is pinned up, the other half of it flowing down their shoulders. they laugh at a joke.

the thinker's phone goes off. the figure in the dark gives a start, fingertips tingling in excitement.

the figure slinks back into the shadow.

the thinker will finally be theirs.

---

"they made an arrest today."

you look up nervously from your phone, having just read the local news reports.

"the boyfriend, right?" sunghoon continues, holding his own phone up for everyone to see.

just as he says this, the rest of the bar's chatter slowly turns grim and quiet as patrons, mostly students from your university, discover the new development in kazuha's case through their own social media.

"she was pregnant," jake says in disbelief, eyes glued to his screen.

"he probably thought getting rid of them was the easiest way out," sunghoon deduces.

"but on campus? by stabbing her?" you counter. "he could have gone about this differently."

"maybe he panicked," jake offers. "or wasn't thinking straight."

"they're still going to put him on trial so he still has a chance to be proven innocent," sunghoon says.

you shake your head, leaning back in your seat. "i'm not convinced, is all."

jake snickers. "you have a better theory, ms. law student?"

you give him a look and jake holds his hands up in defeat. your phone suddenly vibrates on the table, momentarily distracting you. picking it up, you see a notification.

you're at paradoxx bar right?

you suppress a smile, realizing it's a text from sunoo. you type out a reply confirming your location and he responds just as quickly.

come meet me outside for a bit? i'm in the alley out back.

you take a quick glance around the table at your friends, but it seems as if jake and sunghoon were engaged in another topic. you pocket your phone, clearing your throat.

"i'm gonna go meet a friend real quick outside if you don't mind. i'll be back before you know it," you say, sliding out of your seat, ignoring the curious looks from your jake and sunghoon.

"want us to come with you?" sunghoon asks.

you wave him off. "i'll be fine. it's a busy night. lots of witnesses."

jake snickers at this but a look of discomfort washes over sunghoon's face. you pat his back reassuringly.

"i won't be long, i promise," you say, already walking away.

you exit the bar and the wind immediately whips your hair around. you sweep it out of your face, making your way to the alley between the bar and the building beside it, the designated smoking spot for the bar patrons or any other people passing by.

you're startled to see that it's completely empty. worrying for sunoo, you rush the rest of the way, footsteps bouncing off the walls.

"sunoo?" you call out as you round the corner.

true enough, your criminal law professor is standing there, partially concealed by the shadows, but you'd know that strikingly pale face from a mile away.

"hey," he responds, stepping fully into the glow of the bar's back door light, the only source of illumination in this little corner. he's wearing a black hoodie and black jeans, making him look younger, possibly passing as a student himself.

"i missed you," sunoo whispers just as you step into his arms. he pulls you into an embrace, kissing the top of your head.

"we saw each other at class earlier," you point out, beaming up at him. sunoo chuckles, leaning down to kiss you square on the mouth this time.

he pulls away barely an inch, your noses still touching. his breath fans against your face.

"yeah, but i missed you," sunoo reiterates.

your mind flashes back to the night in his apartment, yet to be repeated. a fire ignites in you at the thought of having sunoo to yourself like that a second time.

"so much that we're agreeing to meet behind dingy bars now?" you tease, kissing a spot on sunoo's jaw.

sunoo hums, a large hand resting loosely around your neck. his grip tightens and you gasp softly, the first hints of arousal appearing within your core.

"exactly," sunoo responds.

you laugh lightly as sunoo backs you up against the bar's back wall, a knee pressing between your legs.

"here? really?" you ask, a hint of amusement in your voice. you wanted to berate him playfully for his choice of a quickie location but his hand around your neck tightens even more.

"s-sunoo—"

sunoo clamps down even harder on your throat and your eyes grow wide. you open your mouth to utter something, a safeword, but you belatedly realize you don't have one. not with sunoo.

"yes, here," sunoo confirms, smiling sweetly. you shake your head, tapping rapidly on his arm to signal that no, you need to stop.

but sunoo digs his fingers deeper into your skin. you gasp, but no sound comes out. your head starts to feel light and that's when you see sunoo pull something out of his back pocket.

the smooth glide of metal against metal reaches your ears. a moment later, you feel a sharp prick on your side.

a switchblade.

"do you get it yet?" sunoo asks, looking down at you with the same look he gave you whenever he asks a question in class. as if quizzing you on details of a case.

"i am the same height as kazuha's boyfriend," sunoo begins, piercing your torso deeper.

you tremble. you feel the urge to throw up.

"he doesn't dress a particular way, either. a mask, a hoodie with the hood up, and plain pants would do it. any camera that would have captured me going in and out of her room would have been fooled."

you claw at his arm now, frantically swiping at any part of him that you can reach, but you know that the oxygen is rapidly decreasing in your body, rendering you weak.

"you want to ask me 'how?'. 'why?'" sunoo continues. you wrap your hands around sunoo's arm that's holding you down instead, scared that any more movement would lead to the knife plunging even deeper into you.

"she was my closest colleague's student," sunoo says. "i saw her exit his office one time and i thought she was the prettiest thing i've ever laid eyes on."

"after you, of course," sunoo adds, kissing your cheek. you jerk away but pain shoots through your head.

you're losing too much air.

"it wasn't hard for me to gather enough information about her. you saw how easily i could weasel information out of the police. the university registrar is a walk in the park," sunoo explains with an amused laugh.

"now, why did i do it?" sunoo repeats. he smiles, placing another, longer kiss to the side of your mouth.

"just because."

what follows next is a blur to you.

you feel pain rip through your torso and you feel it repeatedly, over and over and over again. you want to scream. you have to scream.

but you can't.

the damp ground greets you like an old friend, slamming into you as you fall. there's a pain in your face as you lie facedown, in your head, too, but nothing compares to the burning you feel in your stomach, climbing up and down and all around all at once.

the pain disappears moments later, replaced by a dull, numbing throb. you feel cold but warm at the same time.

you feel sleepy.

you hear footsteps fading somewhere behind you but you don't give them any mind.

at this point, you just want to sleep.

the wind blows. your hair flutters one last time.

and then, you sleep.

#enhypen smut #enhypen scenarios #sunoo smut #sunoo scenarios #w: sunoo

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bakerstreethound · 1 year

Text

The Scars Between Us

Relationship: Din Djarin x reader

Warnings: angst, hurt, mentions of nightmares, slow to comfort, soft scared Din

Summary: Din is terrified when he almost loses you on a mission, one where you protected him, the scar you bear reminding him of his failure. He can hardly look at you, let alone touch you or think about doing so. What happens when you confront him on the matter?

All writings belong to me @bakerstreethound (Do NOT copy, repost, claim, or translate my works to other sites. I only publish here and on A03 under the same username)

Word Count: 2.1k+

A/N: Duh nuh, I have returned with a slice of Din angst. This man desperately needs to be held and loved despite his protests. I hope you all enjoy! As always, comments and reblogs are most appreciated! Graphic by @firefly-graphics

Every time he closes his eyes, the same image surfaces. The blood, the raining of blaster fire, the wails of the child, screaming villagers. There you were in the thick of it with him fighting off the troopers who’d decided to infiltrate the seedy bar you convinced him to retrieve information.

Then the part that doesn’t leave, hasn’t left his dreams, borderline rising to nightmare when you turn yourself, grasping onto his arm, spinning in front of him, taking the bullet to your shoulder, it grazes you, but the sneer on youe lips, eyes hiding the upcoming agony is what plays over and over, dragging Din further down, scared and afraid of the danger he put you through. It made it even harder for him to look at you each day he wakes since that fateful day.

What would he do without you? He did that to you, couldn’t keep you safe, Maker, he failed both you and the child.

He takes a deep breath, shifting in his bed, reaching out for something, but met with only the emptiness of his bunk. Empty. The cooing he’d grown so accustomed to was nowhere to be heard. Almost in a panic he grabbed his helmet, shirt and pant hanging loosely on him then he hears your voice, talking softly from down the corridor in your quarters.

“I told you I’m fine, silly.” He hears your voice and he fights with himself as he continues watching you beneath his helmeted gaze, a silent centurion, but he still can’t tear the images from his nightmares away from the fringes of his memory, threatening to destroy him, consume him night after night, day by day. Still, he stands there, listening, not wanting to interfere, he knew the risks of having you near him in the line of fire.

Oh, but he didn’t expect to fall this far.

******

You shunned attachments, everything it involved, but now, you saw why it got in trouble, for you knew now you found the family you could always dream of not some distant future far out of your reach but in the end it was worth fighting to protect to have something of yours that you could live with to see everyday of your life.

You tug off your shirt, barely wincing in pain. You wouldn’t change what had happened, knew it was right, heck you hoped it had been helpful in the long run and there. The child babbled next to you, seeming content in your presence despite the bloodied bandage wrapped around your lower stomach and shoulder. Your body bore many scars, these are worth more than anything, you find yourself thinking, letting the thoughts wash over you.

“Don’t worry, kid, it barely even grazed me, I got out just in time, remember?” You pull the Child in your arms, his hand wandering over your skin, gripping your bicep, clinging desperately, his eyes looking up at you in concern, his other hand reaching towards the blaster wound on your shoulder. “I told you, it’s going to be fine, silly.”

“You got lucky.” Din’s modulated voice fills the room as he leans against your doorframe, head tilted slightly, watching you, Underneath the helmet though, he tries to hold back his own wince of pain as he watches Grogu babbling, trying to climb up your arm to reach your injured shoulder. He notices the way you try not to wince, let your pain show, another reminder that it’s his fault he couldn’t protect you, could’ve saved you from harm or something far worse. He doesn’t want to think of the alternative, swallowing the growing lump in his throat.

You feel his presence, but don’t acknowledge him, you wouldn;t trade what you did for the entire galaxy. Grogu’s persistent on your arm but you try not to wince again, trying your best to not fall deeper into your mind, this beautiful shattering trainwreck the insides of your body and mind have become. It hurts you to think of him, thinking of him dead in your arms, hands falling from your face tears and sobs threatening to wrench from your throat.

You knew that would be a chance again to have him every single change you got. If you were a machine it would be your only objective to see him from harm. You weren’t ready to see him die. You couldn’t do it couldn't live without him near his warmth everything of his you valued most dear. You couldn’t imagine a galaxy with him., down on your knees you prayed to whatever being who could help, heal your fractured soul, it mattered naught.

“I couldn’t let them hurt you, Din. I would do it again in a heartbeat.”

“I could’ve handled it, you scared me, I was afraid I lost you.” His hands reach up, grazing your jaw, you try not to fall for this, for him, but it was all for naught, you can’t help but allow yourself to lean into him, but just as quick his hand is there, he pulls away as if he were burned.

“Din, please,” you hate how broken your voice sounds. You know this is something he can’t handle to admit, but the space between you is a growing void, searing hot, stinging you deep down more than you;d like to admit. It only grows when he sighs heavily, turning towards the door to his bunk, the door whooshing in his wake.

******

Days pass he can barely stand to be in the same room with you for five minutes. Why did he think you were afraid of him? Was this such a mistake to fall for him in this manner? Why did it all come down to this? Was it so hard for him to understand?

By now, your wounds had healed at a good rate and you hadn’t lost much more blood. Grogu clinging to your bicep didn’t hurt much anymore. You hate how the twinge your heart makes when you make eye contact with Din’s helmet visor, wanting to see his face, you can only imagine the expression on his face every time you pass by

Anger

Resentment

Fear

Shame

What you don’t know, however, is the ever present anguish and sorrow trailing after him like a haunted specter, pulling him back to where you’re running out in front of him, taking not one but three blaster shots from him, the way your body goes limp for a fraction, phasing you, but he shakes his head trying to tear himself from the nightmare. Of all the bounties and marks he collected, he’d seen enough of his fair share of bloodshed but that was different before you joined him on one mission which turned into another…and another.

Somehow, you were different. When he saw you take the hit, he felt deep down, his heart wince, you made him crave your companionship….you mattered to him. More than he could possibly fathom. More than he dares to admit to himself.

To make matters more complicated, Grogu had become attached to you by the by and he can’t exactly say no to the little guy. Din sighs, walking down the corridor past your door, noticing it open a fraction, he stands before it, debating. He knows it's futile to ask about Grogu, he can hear him babbling happily in there, no doubt entertained by one of the countless games you played to keep him entertained on long missions or while traveling through deep space.

Grogu’s gaze hovers long over the door, and you grimace, bracing yourself as you shift to maneuver off the bed. Should you do this? Why did it matter? You tried not to care too much but this? You couldn’t bear to fathom a life without either of your precious beloveds.

You knew his presence all too familiar, you don’t know why you can’t ignore the unbearable ache rising again, while you find yourself oh foolishly calling out, “Din? You can come in. Grogu wants to see you.” You’re right by the door, its still cracked open, a hint of beskar flashing through and it widens, and you’re brought back staring into his visor, your insides twisting in knots, the invisible sharp thread of longing poking out and taunting you no matter how hard you tried to deny it. It was inevitable at this point. You cared too much for him. You cared too much about the Child.

He cocks his head, and you step aside, smiling gently at Grogu playing with one of the many baubles and trinkets you had on your side table from previous adventures. He gurgles, happy as a clam, giggling when Din sits next to him on your bed.

“He’s happy.”

But are you? You bite back yout tongue, you’re not sure what to say, everything escaping you when his hands reach up, the familiar hiss of his helmet filling the empty void, the countless voids between you, and your met with a familiar, yet unfamiliar sight.

Piercing soft brown eyes, brows furrowed in a mixture of sorrow, shoulders slumping the more you study the planes and ridges of his face. The legend, Mando, the Mandalor. To you he was Din and always would remain, yet it aches the anguish in the lines along his lips, him wanting to reach out and reassure you he’s the one who is fine.

“Please tell me what’s wrong?” You take a step closer to the bed, ignoring Grogu’s gurgle of protest as Din leans down to murmur something to him quietly, a lopsided ghost of a grin whispering along his lips.

How you ache to trace his lips, rememorize him but your brain retaliates, screaming at you everything about this situation is wrong, that is until you sit next to him on the bed, your hand ghosting along the side of his face, as he watches, avoiding your gaze still, swallowing when you finally trace your finger along his skin.

“Please?” You try again, the anguish prevalent you don’t dare disguise it anymore, noticing his chest heaving. His heart races but when he meets your gaze, he tries so hard not to flinch when your hand skims along his lips, his heart skipping a beat.

“Can’t…cyar’ika…” his hands drop to your waist pulling you closer, one stroking your chin; tilting you up to meet his gaze.

Your own heart races, fearing you were the one to do something wrong. Hell your instincts kicked in at the most inopportune time and you just wanted, something inside you screamed, to protect him, you couldn’t lose him or the kid. It was you or them, you wouldn’t have changed anything about what you did.

“I wouldn’t change anything I did that day, Din. I need you to understand that, okay?”

He swallows once more, “But I was supposed to protect you…don’t want you hurt.”

You press your forehead into his more, fumbling with his hands, trying to get your point across, desperately hoping to the Maker you wouldn’t mess this up and make a fool of yourself, the feelings you tried to keep hidden long ago from resurfacing. “I knew the risks since the beginning, Din. But I care about you…”

The silence is deafening before he takes a shaky breath. “That’s why I can’t lose you…I wouldn’t know…” his breath catches, “Grogu and I wouldn’t know what to do without you.”

“And you’ll never have to find out Din. I’ll be here with you both always, as long as you’ll have me.” You dare to reach up, stroke the fine lines of his face, his eyes closing shut at the touch, leaning into you a fraction. “ Don’t think I won’t do everything in my power to save your ass if it comes to harm, alright?” He nods, burying his face in your neck as you pull him closer, thanking the Maker you’ve come to an understanding.

The void within you quells, hope blossoming in your chest while you stroke his back, relishing the soft groans from him as he pay back his dues in full, intent on making up for lost time.

After all, it did take you getting shot for you both to admit the mutual affection….but you would make up for it with the times the universe bestowed upon you.

******

#the mandalorian #din djarin #din djarin x reader #the mandalorian x reader #din djarin x you #the mandalorian imagine #star wars imagine #pedro pascal

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sunshine-theseus · 5 months

Text

Fantastic Mr Fox | Aggie Beever-Jones x reader

Word Count: 2.1k Summary: she's a cute girl and has impeccable movie taste Warnings: injuries, nothing else really. guys i love fantastic mr fox and wes anderson films, i have since i was like 4, so i love this fic. Request for - @realsociadadferminofan

Finally joining a team after being in their academy was something so unnecessarily terrifying. Joining a team after being in their rival’s academy, was possibly 10x worse.

Joining Chelsea from the Arsenal W.F.C. Academy was somewhat of an ultimate act of treason. I got DMs from Arsenal fans insulting me and calling me a traitor, ‘you’re not good enough anyway’. DMs from Chelsea fans were predominantly kinder, but I did receive a few ‘you don’t deserve to be here’ messages.

I had been sent on loan to Chelsea last season, straight out of the academy, which had been more accepted because it was seen as something I didn’t have a choice in. Now that I had officially signed with the Blues? Life was harder than it should be. I’m not particularly close with anyone yet, not thinking I was going to be staying around long enough for them to matter, and I’m having to compete to even play because of the diverse skills and experience of our players.

I met Aggie on the first day of training. I wasn’t expecting the number of new players that had joined me in signing over the summer or after the World Cup, and it was severely intimidating.

The person I could claim to be the closest to, was Niamh, which in turn meant I was some-what friends with Jessie, but the roommates had yet to arrive by the time I walked into the locker room, searching for my locker and number which had now been changed due to the apparent must for Mia Fishel to be 2 if she signed. I think I cried about it the day I found out. I had been number 2 since I was 4, clumsily kicking a ball around on horrid grass under gloomy skies, and I was forced to just give it away.

“You’re not number 2?” an unknown voice perks up beside me as I plonk down at my new cubby, the number ‘32’ looming over my head.

I turn to my left, and see a rather well put together blond, lacing up her boots. A new face, but seemingly kind. I tilt my head to the side as she looks up, having not answered the question.

“Sorry, I’ve followed you for a while. You’re always 2, aren’t you? You were last season.”

“Oh… I had to um, give it up. Mia made it a requirement to be number 2 if she signed. Didn’t even give me an option.”

“That’s pretty unfair, it’s special to you. I’m Agnes by the way. Everyone calls me Aggie.” She reaches out her hand for me to shake, which I gently do.

“Like from Fantastic Mr Fox! I’m Y/N.” I smile softly at her as I lace up my own boots.

“You know Fantastic Mr Fox?”

“It’s the best movie ever!”

“Right?!” she then pauses.

“Hey, so I don’t really know anyone here… could I stick with you?” Aggie rocks back and forth on the balls of her feet as she asks the question.

“For sure! I’m not super close with anyone yet, well I’m sort of close with Niamh and Jessie, but I’d love to stick together.” I hop up from my seat and begin to walk along side Aggie as we approach the field, the meeting room seemingly deserted to instead focus on introduction games that tie to our warmup.

~~~~~

It takes a month for me to realise I have a crush on Aggie. Neither of us having anything to do during the October/November international break except train while ¾ of the squad were out, meant a lot of time pretty much one on one. I tell Niamh straight away, the girl having become somewhat of a big sister to me, and she laughs and tells me most of the team already figured.

“Emma loves pairing you up to watch you stumble and blush.”

“What the fuck?!” the call doesn’t last much longer, as Aggie comes to collect me for our gym session, in which I am a very poor spotter for the girl as I gawk and blush as she rolls up her sleeves and lifts the weights.

~~~~~

Now a month after that, I’m sitting out altogether due to spraining my calcaneal tendon in the Champions League game against Madrid.

“This fucking suucks. Fuck Athenea. We were going to play our first ever game at Stamford Bridge together” Aggie pouts, leaning of the fence as I hobble into the seats behind the subs bench, plopping down next to Millie and Guro.

“I know. You have to score for me pretty please. And do a knee slide and give a heart when you get it.” I gingerly smile at her, and she dramatically rolls her eyes.

“Your wish is my command princess.” She jokingly gives a bow.

My mouth gaps open and closed and I feel my face burn as it’s overcome by a deep shade of red. Aggie chuckles and says goodbye before she heads back to the locker room, getting ready to start the game.

“You are down so fucking bad.” Millie teases and Guro hums in agreement.

“Am not!”

“She called you princess and you malfunctioned. It’s like your brain shuts down. You should ask her out.”

“What?! No way! She does not like me back.” The captain and the Norwegian stare at me, blinking once as their mouths drop open, scarily in sync.

“Man, if you can’t see how much she likes you, there is no hope.” Guro chuckles and turns back to the game that’s about to start.

Aggie scores in the 23rd minute. A pass from LJ sets her up and she easily puts the ball in the net. And as promised, she smoothly slides on her knees, making a heart with her hands as she glides along. She moves to take her place as they set up to start again but stops briefly and points to me with a toothy grin. It’s a small gesture to show who the goal was for, and I make a little heart in return.

“Okay! I’m fucked! Millie what do I do?” I frantically turn to the girls next to me as the whistle blows, the game continuing.

“You have to sweet talk her and like offer her your jacket or something. Honestly, she already likes you so don’t change your personality. That’s important. You got that? No changing yourself.” Millie pokes my chest.

“Aye aye captain.” I solute her before Guro adds on.

“And when you ask her out on a date, make sure it’s something you’ll both actually enjoy. Like you both love that weird fox movie, so watch that together or something.”

“Fantastic Mr Fox is much more than ‘that weird fox movie’. It’s the pinnacle of film. Wes Anderson is a fucking genius.” Guro raises her hand in fake surrender.

“Sorry.”

“But you’re right, that is a great idea. W- when do I ask her?”

“After the game.” The two older women simultaneously stress that it’s imperative I do it soon.

We win 5-1, and I rush as quickly as one can with crutches, onto the pitch to congratulate the team. I hug Niamh and LJ, talk to Emma, meet pretty much everyone, before I get to Aggie. She stands off to the side, talking to Sam and Guro, the latter spotting me and pulling Sam away to talk to god knows where.

Aggie is conveniently missing a jacket, so as I approach her, I shed my own and hold it out to her.

“You’re going to freeze.” She refuses, but I push it toward her again.

“Aggie, you’re shivering, take the coat.” Her fingers graze gently against mine and my stomach swells, my breath hitches.

“Thanks.”

“Hey… would you, maybe, you can say no, like to, I don’t know-”

“Spit it out.” She nudges me and giggles.

“Do you want to go on a date?” I rush out, avoiding looking her in the eyes, fearful of her rejection.

It’s silent. Well Aggie is silent.

“Forget i-”

“Yes. I really would like to go on a date with you.”

“Yeah?”

“Absolutely. What did you have in mind?”

~~~~~

“Now I've already had too much to drink, and I'm feeling sentimental, but I'm going to say something anyway, which nobody wants to admit, but I think is probably true: we beat 'em.” I glance at Aggie out of the corner of my eye, and I catch her wiping away a tear.

“Are you crying?”

“Nuh uh.”

“I cry 90% of the time during this speech it’s ok.” My hand inches toward Aggie’s that rests between us.

“It’s not even inherently sad Y/n. I’m just a baby.” She pouts at me as a single tear rolls down her cheek.

I take her hand, slotting my fingers between her’s. I wait for her to retract but she squeezes my hand, running her thumb against the back of it. I then turn my head, my eyes meeting her’s. The hazy blue irises bore into my own, drawing me closer. My other hand lifts to hold her cheek.

“Can I kiss you?” Aggie nods once and I lean in, our lips locking in a gentle kiss.

“Will you be my girlfriend?” her warm breath hits my lips, our foreheads pressed together. I respond by kissing her again.

~~~~~

We walk into training together. Not an unusual sight. The only difference is the short kiss we share before I turn on my crutches to head to the physio to have a check-up on my ankle. I’m stopped as I reach the locker-room doorway.

“No fucking way! You did it!” Millie comes barrelling toward me, wrapping an arm loosely around my neck in a headlock and ruffling my hair with the other.

I hear Aggie laugh and I jokingly glare back at her.

“Yes I did. Thanks to you. And Guro giving me the date idea by dissing Fantastic Mr Fox.”

“Guro what?!” Aggie exclaims. I smile and bid her goodbye.

~~~~~

“YOU’RE BACK!” I stumble as I catch Aggie on my back, the girls around us smiling and giggling as Emma sends a playful glare.

“Miss me? I was only gone a week.” Emma quickly separates us into pairs for a training exercise.

“More like forever. Why does your extended family live in Glasgow?” She takes a hold of my hand as we wait to be given a ball.

“My abuelita loves you if that makes you feel any better. And she’s never met you. It took her months to warm up to my sister’s husband.”

“Mmm, that does make me feel better, but a kiss would definitely help.” She perks her lips and I lean on my tippy toes to press my lips to her’s.

“Get a room!” Niamh calls out from across the field and I blush, hiding my face in Aggie’s neck as she wraps an arm around me. Everyone laughs before Emma sternly tells us to focus.

~~~~~

The time is slowly running out, we’re tied 1-1 and I get subbed on for Sam, joining Aggie on the front line. The 20 or so seconds tick down on the big screen as I run down the pitch, chasing Aggie, calling for the ball. She takes a shot on the goal but I notice the ball veering off course and rush forward. I jump, head making contact with the ball and body making contact with the goalkeeper before I fall to the ground.

I hear the crowd cheer but don’t move. My head aches but pain radiates across my shoulder and down my back. The whistle doesn’t blow even as I cry out, only once the final seconds pass. I feel hands pat my head, assuming I’m just exhausted. I eventually hear Aggie’s distinct voice break through the rest of the noise.

“WHY DIDN’T YOU STOP THE GAME? SHE DIDN’T GET UP SO YOU STOP THE GAME!” there are waves of outraged voices that echo around me, but I can’t do anything but cry and whisper Aggie’s name.

I begin to assess myself as I wait for someone, anyone, to come help. I can feel everything, but it hurts, I can move my fingers and my toes. My breathing is a little rough and my vision is blurred by my tears. I feel someone kneel beside me.

“Hey, hey I’m here are you ok?” I expect to hear my girlfriend’s voice but it’s Ann-Katrin.

“It all hurts. W- where’s Aggie.” I groan out as she strokes my hair out of my face.

“She’s coming. She was having a word with the ref. Asshole tried to card her. The medics and Emma are coming too.”

It takes forever to be assessed, and then I’m carried out on a backboard, Aggie holding my hand as we walk through the halls.

“Are you ok? Are you sure? Do you need anything?” She spits out question after question and I smile up at her.

“I’m okay, I’ve got you.”

“You really are a quote-unquote fantastic fox.” She grins at me and leans down to kiss my forehead.

“I want to quote Fantastic Mr Fox with you all the time.”

“You will. Once you fucking stop getting hurt.”

#woso x reader #woso #womens soccer #wsl #aggie beever jones #aggie beever-jones #aggie beever-jones x reader

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kckt88 · 5 months

Text

Drowning Inside You II

Summary:

Aemond and Valaera settle into life as married couple and Valaera's heat arrives earlier than expected.

-Features an Aemond POV.

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!

Warning(s): Mini Time Skip, Inner thoughts, Language, Kissing, Smut, Heat/Rut Cycle, P in V, Breeding Kink, Knotting, Mild Angst, Possessive Behaviour.

Word Count: 4620

Author Note: An Alpha/Omega Story.

Inspired by the song Call My Name by EMO + Yolo.

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon or Fire & Blood characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used.

Comments, likes, and reblogs are very much appreciated.

Ever since Valaera had taken his eye that night on Driftmark, Aemond had envisioned the various ways in which he would exact his revenge against Valaera Velaryon.

Maimed, half blind and now the rider of the largest dragon in the world.

For years he’d hated her, even thinking about Valaera would send Aemond into a rage of epic proportions.

He would spend hours in the training yard, sparring with Ser Criston or deliberately starting fights with other Alpha’s.

His only reprieve from it all was Vhagar.

She was far too large to be housed inside the dragon pit, so she had taken to resting in an outcropping of caves beyond the Red Keep.

His old girl didn’t fit in anywhere and neither did he.

Even before he lost his eye, he never felt part of anything, his older brother was a massive twat, and his sweet sister was far too invested in her bugs too notice anything else. Even his younger brother Daeron was a stranger to him.

His older brother was rather fond of making Aemond suffer through his awful practical jokes, and relentless teasing. Even more so when their ‘strong’ nephew would join in.

Behold the Pink Dread.

Valaera was the only one to apologise for the pig, offering her uncle some lemon cakes she’d managed to steal from the kitchens.

After Driftmark, Aemond devoted himself to his studies and training. Becoming the perfect second son, even as Aegon would squander every opportunity that was given to him.

Before his presentation as an Omega, Aegon would spend his days drunk and cock deep in some whore on the streets of silk.

Yet all that stopped when he was given in marriage to Jacaerys Velaryon. Aemond had to admit he thoroughly enjoyed the look of horror on Aegon’s face when their father announced their union.

Yet his brother for all his desire to flee Kings Landing on the back of Sunfyre remained and married his strong bastard, with the pair of them becoming so happy it would make Aemond’s stomach turn.

Since she cost him his eye, Valaera would avoid Aemond like the plague. Always fleeing the room whenever Aemond entered or hiding behind her mother’s skirts.

Which suited Aemond just fine, the less time he spent in the company of Valaera the better. Yet as he got older, he realised it wasn’t just hate that he felt for Valaera. It was something far deeper. Rooted in his very core.

At first, he was unsure what it was.

But as Valaera got older and presented as an Omega, one sniff of Valaera’s sweet scent and that was it.

Aemond knew it was no longer hate that was driving him. It was desire.

As his niece grew from a plain faced pup into a stunningly beautiful pearl. Aemond knew he was done for.

Countless nights he would imagine the pretty noises his niece would make as he took her to bed and ravished her with his tongue, his fingers, and his cock.

Valaera always had this way of looking at him and it would drive him to the brink of insanity.

Those beautiful brown doe eyes, so innocent. So perfect.

Aemond would strip his cock raw every night as he fucked his fist, to the thought of Valaera.

Of course, the girl was still terrified of him and while part of him still rather enjoyed it, another was so desperate to have the Omega that he would do anything.

Aemond knew that suitors would soon come to Kings Landing in their droves to beg for the hand of Driftmark's heir.

The pearl of the realm, given in marriage to some unworthy dog.

No, he wouldn’t allow it. Valaera had left her mark on him when she'd carved out his eye and Aemond would ensure that the Omega would belong to him and no other.

It was easy enough to convince his father. After all, Aegon’s marriage to Jacaerys had been successful. The two of them had already been blessed with one pup and Aegon was currently expecting their next.

His mother however was more resistant to the match and Aemond prayed every night to the seven that his father would remain steadfast in his decision.

Luckily the gods answered his prayers and now Valaera Velaryon belonged to him.

Bound for life.

Aemond thought nothing could top the sight of Valaera at their wedding.

Oh, how wrong he was.

The sight of his sweet Omega laid bare before him, begging to be bred would remain with Aemond far beyond his death.

He could feel his cock going stiff at the thought of fucking Valaera again.

But that would have to wait, as Criston’s morningstar came flying towards him. The shield in his hand shattered upon impact. Discarding the splinted wood, Aemond expertly dodged the repeated attacks and soon his sword was pointed at the Kings guard’s throat.

“Well done my Prince. You’ll be winning tourneys in no time”.

“I don’t give a shit about tourney’s” replied Aemond as he spun the long sword in his hand and cast his eyes to the sky, watching two dragons race each other.

Aemond smiled when he heard his Omega’s gleeful laughter, as her dragon Arrax nimbly darted around Vermax and shot off into the clouds.

In the weeks since her wedding to Aemond, Valaera had come to realise that being married to him wasn't as bad as she thought it would be.

In public he was stoic and quiet, always standing with his arms folded behind his back, his posture rigid and firm yet in private he was passionate and unyielding. He was a giving lover in the marriage bed and he would often seek her touch during the night, ensconcing her in his arms, making her feel safe.

On this particular day, Aemond was training as usual so Valaera decided to visit the library, there were so many books that she wished to read before her next name day.

Aegon of course had previously made fun of her calling her a 'bookworm' and then stated that her and Aemond were perfect for one another as he loved books too, what Aegon didn't know was that sometimes Aemond would join Valaera in the library and he would fuck her against one of the bookcases and not much reading would be done on those occasions.

During her reverie Valaera began to notice that the walk back to her chambers felt peculiar. The latent arousal swirling inside her as she thought of her Alpha felt different, but in a really familiar way strangely enough. Her breath suddenly became more laboured, and a tingling sensation appeared inside her.

The empty feeling in the pit of her stomach becoming more pronounced.

Surely this couldn’t be her. Oh no. The Maesters had always been accurate about her heats. She wasn’t expecting it for another few weeks.

But something was off, extremely off, because soon she felt her legs start to shake with every step she took, and she was practically hyperventilating.

The closer she got to the chambers she shared with Aemond, everything started to blur, even the light, it was so bright that she had to shut her eyes, it made her stop in her tracks and lean against the wall.

The arousal she previously felt in her abdomen had now turned into excruciating pain. Valaera could smell almost every single Alpha in the Red Keep, but the scent of HER Alpha overpowered them all, she needed him.

Oh, gods she needed him so much, she felt so empty, she needed his knot, she needed his seed, she needed to be filled with her Alpha.

Slick started running down her legs, she was so wet, and her clothes felt so constricting, she needed to get them off before she was suffocated.

“Princess. Are you alright, shall I alert your mother?” asked a guard, he was sweating profusely, his scent was making Valaera feel sick, his voice was too loud, and he was too close to her. She wanted to run away, she wanted to run to Aemond, but her legs were completely useless.

The tears began running down her cheeks, she was getting desperate.

Alpha. Please. I need you. I’m frightened. Where are You?

Then she heard a loud growl. Her Alpha’s growl.

Yes! Yes! Her Alpha had come for her! Her Alpha had come to finally breed her!

Valaera’s inner Omega let out a loud cry, practically a scream as she heard the growl, eager to reunite with her Alpha.

“Get. Away. From MY OMEGA” snarled Aemond his voice was deep, low, and dangerous, his scent dark and violent.

He sized up the guard with his remaining eye, growling once again. The guard growled back at first but quickly retreated once the full force of Aemond’s Alpha pheromones permeated through the air.

Aemond turned his attention to Valaera, throwing himself at his whimpering Omega. He put his arms under Valaera’s legs and back, lifted her up and began to carry her toward their chambers.

Valaera swung her arms around Aemond and buried her face in his neck. She began to desperately kiss and suck on Aemond’s throat, she couldn’t help himself, she needed to get closer to her Alpha’s fucking intoxicating scent.

Both of them were a sweaty mess by the time they reached their chambers. Valaera couldn’t keep her hands off of Aemond, nor could she stop scenting and sucking on the mating mark on his neck.

Aemond nuzzled her neck affectionately, then he reached down and grabbed Valaera’s behind, squeezing it hard. His Omega responded by moaning loudly before unlacing his breeches and shoving her hand inside to fondle his cock, which had grown rock hard. Valaera needed it deep inside her now or she would explode.

Aemond grabbed her jaw and turned her face upwards so he could reach her mouth. The Alpha’s tongue felt so good in her mouth, she had to moan once again, this time into Aemond’s mouth, making him grunt loudly in response while still kissing her.

They fell backwards together, landing on the bed, never once breaking their kiss.

Aemond was a grunting mess, almost whimpering every time Valaera’s tongue swirled around his. Their clothes were a hinderance, and they needed to get them off.

So that they could feel each other properly. Aemond hooked his fingers into the seams of Valaera’s dress and ripped it from her body, buttons and fabric flew everywhere.

Aemond’s breeches were the next victim, shredded to pieces as he clawed at them, his tunic was also ripped from his body, the tattered threads landing somewhere on the floor after he discarded them.

Valaera’s eyes rolled back into her head as she felt her Alpha’s naked body against her own.

Aemond’s pheromones burned brighter as his mouth dove into her scent gland, sucking eagerly while scraping his teeth against the mark he’d previously left on her skin. Valaera was absolutely crazed by the movement.

“My Omega. your scent. It’s so fucking amazing” whispered Aemond, whilst inhaling his wife’s unique scent.

“Take me Alpha, breed me, your Omega needs your seed” begged Valaera.

Tears of joy were rolling down her face, so fucking happy that her Alpha would finally fill the aching emptiness in her abdomen.

Aemond grunted loudly in response and reached down to align his huge cock with Valaera’s dripping wet hole, instantly pushing inside, making them both moan in sync as his hard and pulsing cock found Valaera’s warm, wet heat.

The Alpha thrust his cock into Valaera at a relentless pace almost immediately, giving Valaera no time to adjust to his size.

Valaera wrapped her legs around Aemond’s waist and squeezed as tightly as she could, she needed to be fucked again and again, she needed her Alpha to pump her full of his seed and put a pup inside of her.

Her Alpha fucked her hard and fast, his hips pounding against hers. The sound of skin slapping together echoed around the chambers.

Aemond gave a loud grunt and stilled, throwing his head back while squeezing his eye shut, giving Valaera exactly what she wanted.

Rope after roped of his seed spilled inside his Omega, which made Valaera scream in joy and throw her own head back, as she reached her peak, clenching around her Alpha’s pulsating cock.

It didn’t stop there, Aemond only needed a few moments of rest before growing hard inside of his Omega again.

As Valaera’s legs relaxed and let go of her hold on Aemond, he moved backwards and raised himself to his knees between Valaera’s legs.

The loss of her Alpha inside her made Valaera whimper as the ache quickly returned.

Please. Alpha. I need you. Don’t stop. Don’t leave me.

“Roll over” ordered Aemond. It was a command, an Alpha command, and Valaera whimpered as she felt it take control of her body, she had to obey, she had to please her Alpha.

She was now on all fours in front of him, ready to be mounted again. Her heat sent out new waves of scent and slick, which made Aemond almost stagger. He pushed his cock into the whimpering Omega once more with shaky hands and proceeded to pound her even harder and quicker than before, snapping his hips against her while grunting loudly, driving needy moans out of Valaera.

Aemond was gripping her hips so hard that his nails were digging into her skin, leaving marks everywhere, the pain drove Valaera wild with need and she needed to feel more of it.

Almost as if he could sense what she needed, Aemond reached forward and grabbed Valaera’s hair, making her head shoot back. Valaera cried out to her Alpha in pleasure, making Aemond growl.

His knot started to slowly push inside Valaera, and she let out a feral cry as the knot made its way deeper and deeper inside of her. It swelled up so much, it hurt, it hurt so good.

“I will have you dripping with my seed my sweet Omega. I can’t wait to see you swell with my pup, everyone will know your mine-“ moaned Aemond.

Aemond thrust one, two, three more times before growling once again, shooting his seed deep inside Valaera, filling her up. He grunted out Valaera’s name chasing the pleasure of his own peak. He then let out a deep, satisfied breath before collapsing onto his Omega.

Aemond moved his face to Valaera’s neck again, and lovingly nuzzled her.

Valaera was trembling next to him, trying to catch her own breath. The throes of her heat satisfied for now.

But soon it would take hold of her again, her body constantly craving the touch of her Alpha.

For the next three days, she was fucked senseless by Aemond. Everything falling by the wayside as the Alpha took care of his Omega.

After her heat had ended, it took a solid day for both of them to fully recover. They were completely exhausted yet completely satisfied beyond all comprehension.

If Aemond clenched his jaw any harder, his teeth would shatter.

His Omega was stood talking to Alyn of Hull and Aemond hated every single second of it.

I swear if he leans any closer to Valaera. I’ll slit his throat. I’ll tear him limb from limb.

The Alpha inside him was growling, the desire to protect Valaera was overwhelming his senses.

“Brother, you need to relax”.

“I will relax when I remove that Beta cunts fucking head from his shoulders” snarled Aemond.

“He’s only talking to Valaera” sighed Aegon as he gently rocked his newborn pup in his arms.

“I don’t like him leaning close to Valaera like that” muttered Aemond awkwardly.

I don’t like how he looks at Valaera. I don’t like how he smiles at her.

His Alpha was screaming inside his head. Protect. Protect. Protect.

“Alpha instinct, I get it. But in all seriousness, you need to stop lurking in the corner and join the celebration” replied Aegon.

“I need to…Keep an eye on Valaera”.

“No. You need to hold your niece whilst I get some wine” retorted Aegon as he placed his daughter in Aemond’s arms and reached for the nearest pitcher of some ghastly coloured wine that Aemond had always thought looked a little bit like piss.

Probably tastes like it too.

Whilst Aegon was busying himself with the wine. Aemond looked down at his sleeping niece and smiled. She was such a perfect little thing. Whilst her features bore a strong resemblance to Jacaerys, her head was graced with a tiny tuft of silver hair. Yet her older brother Jaehaerys was dark haired and looked more like Aegon.

Aemond wondered what his children would look like. Would they have his silver hair or would they have his Omega’s dark curly locks.

He had thought he would like to have a son first, but as he held his niece, Aemond knew he wouldn’t mind a daughter. A little girl who would sleep on his chest as he read to her, a little girl who would cling to him as he took her on flights with Vhagar. A little girl who he would hold in his heart forever.

Suddenly Aemond was snapped out of his reverie by Maela shrieking loudly.

“She can’t be hungry again” groused Aegon.

“Well, whatever she needs. Only her mother can provide” replied Aemond as he handed Maela to Aegon and returned his attention to Valaera who was still talking to Alyn.

“You’re going to burn a hole in Alyn’s head if you carry on looking at him like that” muttered Jace as he wrapped an arm around Aegon who was busy trying to sooth their daughter.

“I will look however I please” snarled Aemond.

“Oh, for the love of-“ groaned Jace as he spotted Alyn gently placing a hand on Valaera’s arm.

“Aemond. Don’t even think about it” warned Aegon as Jace quickly manoeuvred him and Maela away from Aemond.

HE DARES TO TOUCH WHAT IS MINE!!

Aegon’s warning fell on deaf ears, as Aemond charged across the throne room and viciously shoved Alyn away from Valaera.

“Aemond-What” squeaked Valaera in surprise.

“Don’t ever presume to touch my Omega again” snapped Aemond.

“I-I wasn’t. I-I didn’t mean too” stuttered Alyn.

“Alpha please. You’re making a scene” whispered Valaera.

“I think you need to go and cool off brother” urged Aegon.

“Fuck off Aegon”

“Hey. Don’t speak to my mate like that. We are supposed to be celebrating my daughter’s birth and your ruining it” snapped Jace.

“Fine” retorted Aemond as he turned on his heel and stormed out of the throne room, completely ignoring his mother’s concerned calls.

“I better go after him” muttered Valaera sheepishly.

Stupid Beta thinking he can touch my Omega. Who does he think he is. I should go back in there and…

“Aemond. Wait”.

“What’s with the touching. Why was he touching you?” growled Aemond as he abruptly stopped in the middle of the corridor.

“I felt a little faint and Alyn was just helping me” muttered Valaera as she collided with Aemond.

“Why what’s happened. Do you need a maester?” asked Aemond his anger over Alyn overridden by his concern for Valaera.

“No, I don’t need a maester” replied Valaera.

“Are you sure. If you’re sick, then mayhaps we should get you checked over just to be sure”.

Oh, I knew something was wrong. Valaera’s scent has been different these last few days.

“I’m not sick. Well, I am but…”

I knew it. Something’s wrong. We’ve only been married a few months. I know can’t live without her. I need her to be ok.

“Tell me please Issa dōna omega” murmured Aemond (My sweet omega).

“Alpha. Nyke rūsīr riñnykeā” (I am with child).

“T-Truly” gasped Aemond.

“It might have happened during my heat, but yes, my love. Nyke carry mirrī zaldrīzes iemnȳ hen issa” (I carry a little dragon inside of me).

“My Valaera. My sweet” whispered Aemond as he cupped Valaera’s face in his hands and placed a gentle kiss upon his Omega’s lips.

“A little piece of you and me. Together” mouthed Valaera as she took one of Aemond’s hands and lowered it to her stomach.

She was with child. His Omega was carrying his pup. He was going to be a father.

“Thank you, Issa prūmia” (My heart).

“I guess your possessiveness makes sense now” said Valaera as she wrapped her arms around Aemond and held him close.

Yes, it did. The need to protect Valaera. The urge to be close. It all made sense now. His Alpha was roaring his delight at impregnating his beautiful Omega.

“I was merely acting on instinct”.

I cannot wait until Valaera’s belly starts swelling. Everyone will see. They will all know who’s babe dwells within. His sweet Valaera all round and soft. Breasts swollen with milk. The thought was very pleasing.

So, pleasing in fact that Aemond could feel himself growing hard in his breeches.

“Please. Alpha” whined Valaera sensing his arousal as she stood on her tip toes and pressed a series of desperate kisses to Aemond’s lips.

“Hm” growled Aemond.

“T-Take me. Please. I need you” begged Valaera.

Aemond didn’t need telling twice. He took his Omega’s hand, and they made their way back to their chambers with every intention of having their own celebration that would end up lasting well into the hours of the night.

As dawn broke, Valaera was far to satisfied and exhausted to even think of leaving the bed. Sharing their good news with the rest of the family would have to wait, until Valaera was sure she could actually walk.

“Drakari pykiros, Tīkummo jemiros, Yn lantyz bartossa, Saelot vāedis” (Fire breather, winged leader, but two heads, to a third sing).

Valaera closed his eyes at the sound of Aemond’s voice.

“Perzyro udrȳssi, Ezīmptos laehossi, Hārossa letagon, Aōt vāedan” (With words of flame, with clear eyes, to bind the three, to you I sing).

Valaera smiled as he felt Aemond rest his head on the round swell of his stomach.

“Hae mērot gierūli:, Se hāros bartossi, Prūmȳsa sōvīli, Gevī dāerī” (As one we gather, and with three heads, we shall fly as we were destined, beautifully, freely).

Ever since Valaera revealed she was carrying his child, Aemond had devoted himself to pouring over countless books in the library to gain as much information as he could about pregnancy and how to raise a pup. Apparently, he also found a book that said babes can hear sounds from the womb after the sixth moon of pregnancy. So, Aemond never missed a chance to spend time talking or singing to his stomach.

Valaera of course didn’t think too much of it at first, but as her stomach began to swell, and the babe began to kick, she noticed that he or she would always move around more whenever Aemond spoke.

Aemond of course was delighted when Valaera told him. She knew her Alpha was worried about becoming a father, given the fact his own wasn’t a very good one and it terrified Aemond most days, that he would turn out like Viserys.

But Valaera new deep down that Aemond would be a fantastic father, he was utterly devoted to their unborn pup.

“What do you think of the name Rhaegar” muttered Aemond.

“I like it” whispered Valaera.

“But…”

“I l-love you and if we have a son, I wish to honour you in some way, so I was thinking about Vhalarr” asked Valaera nervously twisting the bedsheets between her fingers.

“In honour of my dragon?”

Oh, he hates it. Such a stupid idea. Why did I have to say that? I’m such a fool.

Suddenly Valaera burst into tears.

“Hey, what’s wrong? Valaera. Laera, Talk to me my sweet” whispered Aemond as he moved up the bed and took the sobbing Omega into his arms.

“Y-You hate the name I chose and I-I j-just thought it would b-be nice to h-have an o-original name,” cried Valaera.

“I don’t hate it. I’m truly honoured that you wish to name our pup after my old girl”.

“I-I know how much Vhagar means to you and I just-“ squeaked Valaera as she buried her face into Aemond’s chest.

“Issa jorrāelagon, kostilus ȳdra daor cry” muttered Aemond as he ran his fingers through Valaera’s long dark curls (My love, please don’t cry).

“I-I’m s-sorry. I-I c-can’t help it” sniffed Valaera as she wiped his nose on the sleeve of her robe.

Alpha is here. He will comfort me. He will make everything better.

“Avy jorrāelan sīr olvie Aemond” (I love you so much).

“I love you too Issa dōna” (my sweet).

“S-So you like the name?” asked Valaera, her voice still slightly muffled.

“I do and if we have a son, I will stand proud as he’s given the name his Muña chose” whispered Aemond as he gently lifts Valaera’s face from his chest and places a gentle kiss on her forehead (Mother).

“I-I’m sorry for crying. I just feel so emotional lately”.

“It’s fine. Your carrying our pup” replied Aemond as he rubbed Valaera’s stomach.

“T-Thank you for being so understanding” sniffed Valaera.

Aemond simply smiled and held Valaera tighter. He knew Valaera had been feeling overwhelmed lately with all of the changes her body was going through and as an Alpha he had a duty to soothe and protect his mate, during her delicate time.

After Valaera had fallen asleep, Aemond took the time to admire his Omega’s features. The long dark silky curls, the pale Targaryen skin, her perfectly shaped plump lips. The dark eyes. He once scorned Valaera for her ‘strong’ yet entirely coincidental resemblance to the former commander of the city watch, yet in truth she was wholly unique, in the sea of silver and amethyst.

As he closed his eye, Aemond knew with absolute certainty that he was where he was meant to be.

“A-Aemond. Valzȳrys” whispered Valaera as she gently shook his sleeping Alpha (Husband).

“Hm”

“Aemond. Wake up” urged Valaera.

“Valaera” grumbled Aemond as he began to rouse from his slumber.

“I can’t sleep”.

“Is everything ok? Is it the pup?” exclaimed Aemond as he shot up in alarm.

“The pup is fine. I-I need…Honey cakes”.

“Cake? You’ve woke me up because of cake?” asked Aemond rubbing his eye.

“I can’t stop thinking about it” muttered Valaera.

“Can’t you just wait until morning?” grumbled Aemond.

“No. I can’t sleep because I’m hungry and I keep thinking about cake”.

“Is this like the time you couldn’t stop thinking about pears” mused Aemond.

“That was weeks ago. But yes, it’s exactly the same. I-I can’t help it”.

Aemond sighed and got out of bed. Praying to the seven that the kitchens had some honey cakes left over.

“Avy jorrāelan issa zaldrīzes” (I love you my dragon).

“I’m sure you do Issa prūmia” replied Aemond as he quickly pulled on his breeches and a loose tunic. (My heart).

“Kirimvose” (Thank you).

“Hm” muttered Aemond as he gave Valaera a quick kiss and left their shared chambers.

The Red Keep was eerily silent as Aemond wandered through the corridors towards the kitchens. No doubt the nighttime appearance of a Prince in the kitchens would give the maids something to gossip about for the next few days.

I should be asleep. Yet here I am trawling through the Red Keep in search of Honey Cakes for my Omega.

Aemond Targaryen rider of the mighty Vhagar the last living remnant of Aegon's conquest, reduced to a simple errand boy.

Last time it was pears, this time it’s honey cakes. Whatever next?

This is the last time. I’m being serious. If she wants pears or cakes then next time- Oh, who am I kidding, I will get my sweet Omega anything she wants, whatever it takes to make her happy, anything to see that sweet smile.

Luckily Aemond’s journey to the kitchens was rather uneventful, even if the cook did give him a strange look as she handed over a basket of honey cakes.

Back in his chambers, Aemond quickly decided that it had all been worth it. To see Valaera happily eating her beloved honey cakes made his Alpha pleased that he was taking care of his mate and their unborn pup.

“Right. Now that you’ve got your cakes. I’m going back to bed” exclaimed Aemond as he tugged off his tunic and breeches.

“Well, actually there was something else-“ whispered Valaera as she wiped cake crumbs from around her mouth.

“Oh no what” huffed Aemond momentarily horrified.

However, his horror was rather short lived as his Omega began pulling off her shift.

“I-I desire the touch of my husband”.

“Is-Is that right?” growled Aemond.

“Please Alpha, I want your knot” begged Valaera as she wrapped her arms around her Alpha’s neck and kissed him. Letting out a small moan as she slid her tongue into Aemond’s mouth.

Aemond smirked as he backed his Omega towards the bed.

A good Alpha should always take care of their Omega.

#house of the dragon #aemond targaryen #hotd aemond #aemond x oc #hotd fanfic #aemond fanfiction #aemond fic #aemond x original female character #aegon ii targaryen #jacaerys velaryon #prince aemond #aemond #aemond smut #aemond one eye #hotd fic #hotd smut #alpha omega

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lizzychanstuffss · 7 months

Note

Omg maybe Astarion somehow being able to see a reality where he ascended and the dark urge ruled with him

his reaction could be good or bad 🧐 maybe both

BARK BARK BARK you are my first dark urge request so I am excited to write this! Also since I enjoy the idea of some angst with this I am going to say this takes place post-game with a good durge and spawn Astarion :3

Astarion x Redeemed!durge!Tav GN

Spoilers for the entire game. Also, forgive me if the details aren't perfect, I am fairly aware of what happens but for my own sanity I haven't actually seen these endings XD

Requests are still open!

You couldn't sleep, no particular reason this time either, just no matter what you did, tiredness would not take you. Honestly, you considered just taking a walk and seeing if it would tire you out although you didn't want to leave Astarion alone without telling him where you were going. It was something you realized he preferred once you started living together after everything that's happened. It was cute.

So instead of taking a walk you just stared out the window from your shared bedroom of the house you had made your own. The sun was starting to rise already which means that your 'night' was just starting. Converting to a nocturnal schedule was something Astarion actually refused to let you do at first, but considering that if you didn't you would basically never spend any time together he eventually relented. Oddly enough it wasn't a hard switch either you actually preferred to be awake at night then the day. You figured this might have been an old habit from your past life.

Astarion had decided to turn in early for the night, the both of you had a rowdy night of mischief-making and partying and well people congratulating you for saving the entire city basically. It was frankly exhausting and you couldn't blame the vampire for needing an early night. He had been in a trance for a while at this point but when you turned to check on him you noticed his brow was furrowed.

It was such a small thing that almost anyone would miss it but not you, you had a keen eye for the microexpressions his face made when he was having complicated emotions. You didn't always understand what they meant or what was going on in his head but you knew something was off with the man. So you crawled back into bed and debated for a moment about waking him up but decided unless he seemed to be in a panic it was best not to wake him. So instead you just put a gentle hand on his arm and then one in his hair stroking it gently.

After a bit of that he seemed to relax again. Before you noticed his eyes half open gazing at you.

"Oh did I wake you?" you asked him.

"No...well yes but don't apologize....I'm glad you did" turning to face you better he gently took the hand that had been on his shoulder and placed it on his face. The gesture surprised you a little. It's not something you had thought he would do.

"Is something wrong, love?" words sincere, he doesn't speak, at least not until he gathers his thoughts a bit.

"I had a dream, no it was more like a vision." he starts "It was about us...but it wasn't 'us' if that makes sense?" he asked, staring at you with one of his classic wet and pathetic cat looks he was prone to making in moments of vulnerability.

"I think I understand like you saw a version of us from another reality?" He nodded in response to your attempt at describing what he saw. "And what was different about this version of us?"

"Well, I'm not sure what entirely to make of it...it was almost like we were the worst versions of ourselves....we seemed happy but also miserable..." His voice trailed off a bit but he continued speaking before you could say anything in response "You had claimed the Crown for Bhaal, but I was ruling by your side...and I think I went through with the ritual" he seemed confused and shocked by own words but also terrified.

"O-oh" was the only thing you could say in response. Suddenly his want for comfort made utter sense and you couldn't help but comply running your thumb across his cheek. He melted into the touch relaxing a bit more.

The two of you stayed like that more a while. The information was quite a shock to both of your systems, but the both of you were thinking about it just unsure of what to say about such a thing. Then you finally spoke up.

"What did you think of this version of us?"

He sat with your question for a bit.

"I'm...I'm not sure....I know I didn't like it, it felt wrong" He sighs, "What do you think about this version of us?" flipping your own question back on yourself, you take a moment to think about how to answer before speaking.

"Considering that Bhaal wanted me to take the crown for himself and rule the world I can assume he...owned me" as hard as it was to admit you fully knew what taking that crown for yourself meant as it would have never been something you choose on your own. "You said you had ascended in the vision as well?"

He nodded "It was awful, it was as though I was looking as someone possessing my body, there was no ‘me’ anymore just a husk of who I thought I was supposed to be..." tearing up a bit "I was exactly like Cazador" he choked out the words sounding disgusted with himself.

"Hey look at me, that's not you though, that's not either of us" you pressed your forehead to his.

"And it never will be, I won't let it be"

His arms wrapped around you pulling you into him, as he nuzzled his head into the crook of your neck finding comfort in it as you held him. A hand coming up to gently play with the curls in his hair as he lets himself calm down in your embrace, although you also felt his hand stroke up and down your back in a soothing motion you weren't sure if it was for you or for himself but it was a nice gesture either way.

The two of you stayed like that for a while.

#astarion #astarion x tav #astarion romance #dark urge #astarion fanfic #astarion x dark urge #astarion x reader #astarionfics #my writing

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soobadnoonecanstopher · 5 months

Text

Can I Stay? (A Baekhyun Story) Part 17.

Pairing: You x Baekhyun

Rating: M

Word Count: 10.5k

Warnings: More plot. No space for smut this time.

Tag list @andimoon @his-mochi-cheeks

Links: Part 1, … Part 16, Part 17, Part 18

You were the kind of person who worked very well under pressure. It was written all over your résumé and unlike some others who claimed this trait and then folded like paper under the slightest bit of stress; you actually did work very well under pressure.

The career kind of pressure.

The pressure involving deadlines and all-hands on deck scenarios in which you needed to perform flawlessly and harness every innate professional skill you’d perfected over the years so well that you could rely on trusting your gut with every move and you actually saw results. You could handle anything, professionally; you were not one to back down from any challenge you were presented with and you did not waver or cower in the face of great adversary.

Baekhyun had gone motionless beside you. From the corner of your eye you could see the way he clenched down hard on his jaw and judging from how very still his chest was, it didn't seem like he was breathing.

Your mind half registered the elevator stopping at your floor, only you did not make any moves to exit.

You watched the back of President Byun’s head, frozen by what you could only describe as abject panic coursing through your every vein. It was a new feeling to you. You felt paralyzed as you stared at the graying strands of his hair and you begged and pleaded that perhaps you had simply misheard him.

You did not have a plan for this. This was a new and terrifying kind of pressure you had never experienced before.

President Byun, Baekhyun’s father and your boss — not your direct superior by any stretch of your imagination but the boss, the big boss, the boss to end all bosses of your entire professional existence up until this point, that President Byun — he had just dropped an atom bomb on top of your head in this tiny box that was hurling you away from the earth up toward his golden towers in the sky, he had just called you out for your sins against him, your sins against him and your sins again his precious and dearest child. His son who he’d breathed life into when he brought him into this world and had handed over to you to nurture and to care for and you had what? Seduced your way into his life; made him fall in love with you…

What would the man think of you?

A harlot? A threat to the Byun family name? A gold digger? There was plenty of his hard earned and life long suffering gold to dig for; but would any amount of your begging and pleading arguments even begin to touch at the surface of just how much you weren’t after any of the fortune? You did not care one bit about it. You had made your way in this world just fine so far on your own merit alone and you could continue in this way forever for all you cared.

But Baekhyun… never in your entire existence had you felt this kind of love for another human being.

Would you just have to give him up?

You would not survive such a blow. You’d just as easily give up your career than give this man up. Just the thought of spending a lifetime without him in it made that prospective life worthless to you.

The elevator had halted. It had reached the end of the line and the doors dinged softly seconds before they pulled open and your eyes caught the tasteful red patterned plush carpet that lined the top floor of this building. None of the other floors had this kind of luxury that gave with a bounce underneath your feet as you walked.

It was a different world entirely up here.

“See me in my office, in one hour.” You flinched when his strong booming voice called out into the hollow space of this elevator right before a shift in his balance indicated that he was leaving you both behind in here. You still could not be sure he was speaking to you both or only to Baekhyun, but there was something that felt a bit like a guillotine’s chop that struck against you hard when you caught movement in his face as he angled his focus just slightly in your direction for one more strike, “You might as well come too,” he added before he was gone.

You managed a quiet whisper before the doors moved. A “Yes, Sir” somehow came out of your parted lips.

The doors closed up and neither of you moved.

Your eyes wandered over the space before you. The illuminated lights overhead that told you this contraption was still sitting at the top floor; not yet called on by any other travelers and not told where to head by either of the two occupants still standing inside of it. The shiny doors now in their closed position showed very clear scratch marks from the years of opening and closing again and again. The panel with all of its numbers and at the bottom, the red alarm button that would connect you with someone, with anyone, who might be able to help you in the most dire of situations you found yourself trapped in. Did they help with disasters of your own making?

You extended your hand and you noticed the visible tremble in your fingers as you pointed your index finger and lightly ran it over that red alarm button; genuinely wondering what kinds of emergencies they were equipped to help with.

A movement pulled you out of the quiet trance you’d been stuck inside, and a hand with slim fingers reached forward into your field of vision.

His fingers pressed a familiar number and then his hand traveled down to lay lightly over your hand. His hand moved slowly over the back of yours and he wrapped his fingers around your hand and squeezed down just enough for you to pull your eyes away from the red alarm button and seek him out.

“I’m sorry,” he said softly; his brown eyes looking into your own with a myriad of emotions surging through them. Concern. Guilt. Worry. He blinked once and broke eye contact, looking down at his feet as he bit down on his bottom lip and furrowed his eyebrows.

“I’m going to be fired.”

Baekhyun shook his head back and forth, lightly at first but harder as he got going; with a deep inhale into his lungs, his face lifted and he looked into your eyes once more as he shook his head with more conviction.

“No,” he said, “No, you won’t.”

You watched his face and felt the effect of the stress you were feeling pulling at your stomach, making you ache from the inside. You closed up your eyes and felt the smallest tug at your hand as he shook you lightly to beg for your attention again.

You gave in to him with his next words.

“This is just a negotiation. We have an important meeting in an hour — for a negotiation. We’ve had plenty of those, right?”

It took you a moment to hear him through the haze you felt in your mind but after a few seconds you nodded your head in agreement. Maybe you could get through it with this kind of mindset.

He inhaled to speak again, “Now…we have to prepare for the meeting.”

You found yourself seated on the sofa in your office. Assistant Cha had been sent away on some insane photocopying mission crafted by Baekhyun that was likely to keep her occupied for hours, and although you had wished for it all day long, having some alone time with Baekhyun inside your office now, felt about as joyous as planning a funeral.

During your discussion with him, he seemed to overlook the ‘how’ for now — he was less concerned with how President Byun came to know of this incriminating information; brushing it aside as a mere detail that would be dealt with later, and he was fixated on the ‘what’ as in Baekhyun seemed convinced that his father, master businessman that he was, actually knew far less than the brief encounter in the elevator suggested.

“I’m not convinced he knows it’s you,” he urged.

“Why does he want to see me in his office, then?” You countered and he only shook his head with a small shrug of his face, not at all giving you a response to this fact with anything concrete.

“I don't know that. But you don't know that man. He was angled in my direction; I could just feel it.”

“He was standing straight and facing forward. There was no angle.”

“He was talking to me. His tone — his voice — it was projected in my direction. I know my Dad, he is upset at me. But only at me. His feet, or his hips had a slight…angle, I can’t explain it, but I know it,” he insisted again, “he definitely knows there is a woman, but that’s as much as he’s got.”

“What if we get up there and he knows?”

“We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it. What do you always say is the first rule of negotiation?”

“Don't ever show your hand,” you repeated the words you religiously mumbled to yourself before any big showdown.

“Don't ever show your hand,” he repeated with a forced smile on his face that did not reach his eyes.

You’d kept an eye on the clock. Time was moving much too fast for this. You hardly had any time at all to prepare; not that there was much either of you could do to prepare for this.

You made a quick stop at your desk before you joined where Baekhyun stood with his hand on the doorknob of your office watching and waiting for you to follow him out. Of course, he was watching you as you grabbed the plain white envelope out of your desk drawer and discretely slipped it inside the inner pocket of your suit coat.

“You won’t need that,” he said matter of factly.

“That’s just a worst case scenario. Like a plan B.” you said with a sad smile on your face, speaking of the short but sweet resignation letter signed with your own hand. “I’d rather resign than have my name dragged through the mud.”

You heard a dissenting hum from the back of his throat as Baekhyun clearly did not agree with your back-up plan. You’d taken your place at his side and instantly you felt his hands reach into your coat and he pulled out the letter. You watched in half annoyance, half amusement as he gripped it lightly in his fingertips and quickly ripped it in half, before stacking the halves and ripping those into more pieces which he proceeded to drop into the waiting trash can near the sofa.

“Plan B is you are 6 weeks pregnant,” he said in a joking tone. You frowned as you looked down into the trash can. You definitely didn't have time to print out another resignation letter now. “Of course, we’d have to get started on that right away, so that the timing works out.”

“And then plan C is we run away and get married, anyway,” he said with a dip of his head to catch your eyes, making you look up into his face. You had still been looking down at the trash can when you felt the softness of his fingertips below your chin, urging you to look at him. “You can be the breadwinner. I alway knew I would make a beautiful trophy wife one day.”

He was playing now. It was intentional; just to lighten your mood a little bit before the real danger came and you found yourself standing in front of the consequences of your actions trying not to pass out. You knew he wasn’t making light of this very real and very scary situation with his jokes and after a few seconds you looked up into his face; you could see so clearly, the poorly concealed worry there.

You leaned into him first. You slipped your hands inside the warmth of his suit jacket; wrapping your arms tightly around his waist and you buried your face well into the crook of his neck. His arms encircled you immediately and you felt the echo of a soft hum from deep within his chest.

“We will be okay,” you heard him say right beside your ear where he had tucked his face into your hair. It sounded like a statement but you definitely heard a hint of uncertainty in his voice. After a few quiet seconds you heard his inhale.

“No matter what happens — y-you wouldn’t leave me, right?” All traces of the ruse were gone. All false humor and forced bravado vanished with his quiet question.

His voice trembled with genuine fear as he asked you such a terrible thing.

You lifted your eyes to look into his face and you lifted a hand to rest it on his cheek.

“I would abandon my career before I would leave you, my love,” you called into his heart, soothing whatever silly fears he had — that you could somehow live without him. With your words, he closed his eyes slowly; taking them deep inside. His lips parted as he tasted the truth in them.

“But you just ripped up my resignation letter so let’s hope it doesn’t come down to that.”

For this, he opened his eyes again, tilting his head slightly to the side.

It was time to go. You knew how long the elevator ride would take up to the top floor and if you weren’t inside of it soon, you’d be late. With as many transgressions as you had under your belt against his father you didn’t need to add any more to the list.

“Wait, I thought the resignation letter was to keep your name off the blacklist, as in to protect your career — but it was for me? To stay with me? You’d give up your job to stay with me?”

“But you love your job. Your job is, like, everything to you.” He was still speaking; strangely fixated on this little detail. You were certain it must be his need to gauge your love and devotion to him; which was ridiculous. You were about to get fired because of how much you loved this man. The least he could do was not gloat about it.

You were straightening your suit jacket, buttoning buttons and smoothing your skirt as he talked.

“Well you ripped it up,” you said with a grin; feeling a little bit like you were going into battle, “so I guess we’ll never know.”

You pulled your office door open and stepped out into the open floor; making your way through the cubicles and out into the hallway that led to the elevators.

The hour reprieve you’d had with him had done something unexpected. Yes you were headed up to what was very likely to be your demise, but strangely with him beside you — with Baekhyun, your love by your side, you might just make it through whatever happened upstairs. Perhaps this love you’d found could soften whatever detrimental blows you received today. Suddenly your work, your career, your job title felt just a little bit less than the highest priority to you.

Inside the elevator he inhaled a breath. You knew his silence through the crowded office space would not last; not with his curiosity left unsatisfied.

“So me or your professional reputation? What was that letter for?”

The elevator moved quickly. The rapid motion made you feel queasy and you had to lay a hand over your belly to calm your nerves. He noticed and reached a hand out in your direction, landing a palm over your own hand as you cradled your belly.

“What is it? Is it the baby?” His words of what sounded like genuine and convincing concern caught you off guard and you couldn’t hold the small surprised chuckle that broke free — that he would dare say such a ridiculous thing out loud. The laugh, the first genuine bit of happiness you’d felt in more than an hour caught you off guard more than his joke and you marveled that you could dare to be feeling something so joyous during such a dreadful situation.

You lightly swatted his hand away and he let out the sweetest teasing giggle.

“Sorry, just practicing my acting.”

The final steps out of the elevator, out onto that luxurious carpeting, and down the hallway that lead up to the heavy wooden doors of the CEOs office, were quiet. Any remnants of misplaced humor from either of you were snuffed out by nerves.

Baekhyun pulled on the handle and you stepped inside first, catching the eyes of the President’s secretary as soon as you both stepped inside the entryway.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Byun, ” the young man in the crisp suit called out an overly formal greeting with a stiff smile directed at your boyfriend. His eyes glanced in your direction and you got a short head-nod, “Miss Managar. The president is expecting you. Please — this way.”

The man rounded his desk and stood in front of a second set of heavy wooden doors with a hand extended toward it and his torso leaned in the direction you were both to go.

“You may go in.” His other hand extended halfway toward his first.

You felt as if this plush carpet had swallowed up your feet. They seemed to refuse your attempts to send a signal from your brain to your legs to make them move.

You heard the heavy door open, despite how well oiled and maintained those hinges were, your ears caught the movement of wood as it slid over thick carpet.

You knew you should move. Baekhyun was already inside.

The young man took one step closer to where you stood and you heard him inhale to speak again.

“You — may go in,” he said with, god bless him, without any change at all in his tone, despite the fact that he had now said this to you twice without you actually moving at all.

“Yes.” You whispered toward him. His eyes caught ahold of yours and he held on to his blank expression so well.

“I am — g-going in.”

Something was wrong with you. Could stress cause paralysis?

“Miss Manager, you may go in.” The man reached a quick hand behind you and you felt the smallest push of his palm over your shoulder and coupled with the nerves; the embarrassment you felt surge through you surely had turned your entire face into a flushed hot red mess. Still, the smallest push he gave you actually got your feet moving and you took three or four big steps right into the office of the President of this company and the father of the man you secretly loved.

President Byun’s focus was on his son. There seemed to be some sort of a stare down going in the first few seconds of this interaction. Your entry into the space pulled both of their eyes away from each other and you closed the distance so that you were standing directly beside Baekhyun.

President Byun opened his mouth to speak.

“Ahh Miss Manager,” he said, looking into your face with lifted eyebrows and a confusing smile on his face. “Lovely that you could make it as well.”

The smile for you felt so genuine. Soft almost. You couldn’t quite connect that soft smile the old man gave you with the anger and outrage he should have had on his face when he looked at you — you, the scheming, gold digging harlot who had used her influence and power over his dear sweet child to trick him into believing he was in love with her.

You felt confused. You felt silly. The longer he looked at you with such a warm expression. The nerves and apprehensions you had been feeling were dissipating like bubbles in the air above your head.

“I actually wanted to meet with you about this young man right here, but I don’t believe you need to be present quite yet.

“I have a personal family matter to discuss with my son first. Something about some woman he intends to marry — without even consulting his dear father, that has given him everything — without even letting me meet her first.”

Oh.

He didn’t know.

Baekhyun was right.

Baekhyun’s posture had sagged some. You could see the relief in his spine and you looked over into his face and found him concealing the smallest smile on his lips that he had to bite down to keep under control. His eyes stayed fixed ahead of him but you could tell he was quite pleased to have been right about his father.

“Umm..pardon me, Mr. President but I haven’t prepared any performance evaluation materials for Assistant Byun for today…”

“Oh don’t worry one bit, Dear. This is all very unofficial.”

The soft pet name was unexpected but not unwelcome. You were not in any trouble at all. You were not about to be fired. There would be no official sanction or lawsuit. Sure you had technically broken some of HR’s rules with the timing of everything but there was no crowd awaiting your public execution. No one was sharpening a head chopping ax. Just a soft old man whose feelings had been hurt that his son left him out of such a monumental life decision.

Baekhyun would have to soothe his fathers ego well, but you were certain he could handle it without letting his own stubbornness get in the way.

“Dad. You will get to meet her, but no matter what you say, I’m not going to change my mind. This meeting is pointless. If you wanted me to come and hang out we could have just had lunch together.”

Oh no. He sounded sassy and defensive. Stubborn and immovable. Just as you’d feared, both men shared an equally strong sense of stubborn entitlement that was probably genetic.

“I don’t even know her. Is she smart and capable? Does she have good business sense? What does she do for a living? You have kept her from me — why? Do I know her?”

“She loves me. I love her. That should be your first question.”

Part of you wanted to intervene; to remind him of how delicate this situation was and how if he handled it with just a little more grace he might get further with convincing his dad.

You were retreating. You’d already been told to step aside and you’d made it just outside the doorway mid-way through their heated discussion about Baekhyun’s future, his birthright, and his responsibilities.

You were alone with the secretary again. He was seated in his chair behind his desk watching you with a passive and disinterested expression on his face as you stood with your back against the wall right beside the still slightly parted doorway.

You could make out their conversation but with the young man watching you, you pretended like couldn't and you kept your judgements about the over the top and ridiculously stubborn things both men were saying to yourself.

“Have you ever been to Egypt?” the secretary suddenly asked. His focus seemed far away but you were the only person in this room so you figured he was talking to you.

It took a few seconds but you shook your head back and forth as a reply.

“Oh you seemed like maybe you have. I want to go to Egypt.”

Clearly this man had some preconceptions about you. You smiled politely as you kept your ears trained on the heated discussion that continued behind the door.

“Just try it. Go ahead. You say I’m dramatic now, just try and force my hand. You want to lose your only son, forever? You have no idea how dramatic I’ll get.”

“Maybe I’ll go in the spring so it’s not so hot. It’s the desert though so it might be hot all the time. I want to see the pyramids. Which has better pyramids, Mexico or Egypt?”

“Please. The nurse at the hospital said she’d never seen such a dramatic baby and you were only one day old. I know exactly what kind of show you can put on. Is she trustworthy. Can she handle coming into this world.”

“I won’t give her up, even if she can’t. I’ll protect her from the family if I have to.”

“I don’t know,” you said to the young man.

“Oh you seem like you would know,” he replied, looking genuinely disappointed in your answer. You felt slightly taken aback. What on earth gave him the impression that you were an expert on the pyramids in Egypt and Mexico? “Why do I seem like I would know?”

“I don’t know.” He said as a final cryptic response and just continued staring at you. You felt weirdly sorry to him; as if you’d actually let him down today. Maybe you should read the Wikipedia pages on the pyramids in case you had to come back up here for a meeting with the President again.

“And don’t even try and come up with something dumb like ‘she’s pregnant.’ I have my own private doctor on speed dial.”

“Well, what if she really is pregnant?”

“Is she?”

“No.”

“Get out of here.”

The door pushed open sooner than you expected and with enough force that you had to quickly move yourself away from it to avoid being smacked. Baekhyun came through the doorway with about as much pent up aggression as you had ever seen on him and the second his eyes met yours you caught the tiny wink and the soft smile that spread over his face for a split second. He gave you a small head nod and you inhaled a breath and actually fought the eye roll at the theatrics you had just witnessed from him. Was this really his negotiation tactic? Act like such a brat that his father simply gave in from sheer exhaustion from having to put up with his spoiled behavior?

You made a mental note to have a word with him about maybe trying out some other techniques that may be just as effective and less traumatizing for everyone involved.

There was no time now though, it was your turn with the old man. You pushed through the doorway and found Baekhyun’s dad standing on this side of his desk. You imagined how worked up the man had been with his son pushing all of his buttons as he had apparently been so good at doing.

“Ahh yes, close the door please, if you don't mind.” The shift was attempted well, but not complete as you could still see some of the previous agitation rolling off of his shoulders.

You did as you were told and circled back toward the doorway that you had left slightly parted for Baekhyun’s benefit and through the crack in the doorway you caught his eyes and seemed to beg you to keep it open just a little bit. He even lifted his fingers up, holding his index and thumb together motioning a tiny space between the two and frowned his lips dramatically when you shrugged and pulled the door closed completely, blocking out the view and the sight of the man entirely.

You could tell from how his disgruntled ‘hrmph’ sound was cut off mid-way that this heavy wooden door was completely soundproof.

“Miss Manager,” the president began when you returned to him. He had leaned against the desk, taking on a much more casual stance than when you first entered this office and he lifted both of his hands to his chin in a thoughtful and pensive pose as he cleared his throat and said your name without your title attached to it. You found it curious, but the next words he said had your curiosity absolutely burning and your mind whirling.

“I’m afraid this is not a business meeting. I am so sorry if this is unwelcome and I realize it is inappropriate of me to even mention it, but alas I am an old man without nearly as much shame as I should have. Life is long and yet life is so short.”

“And yet, I do admit that I am still ashamed to say I have something very personal to ask of you — or more so, to beg you to consider. Merely the consideration is all I ask.”

“Go on,” you said carefully and with absolute caution in your voice. His words had so much pretext you could hardly stand the build up. Whatever it was he was about to ask you must be the most unusual and unheard of request you’d ever received from anyone and as delicately as he danced around his words, protecting his pride with as many asides as a self aware one act play, you imagined he had never had to ask anyone this sort of thing in the entirety of his life up until this point.

Until he was standing here before you with chagrin in his eyes, a shameful smile on his face and his beseeching request sitting on the tip of his tongue.

You had been well prepared. As prepared by him as you were going to get. And still you felt a jolt.

“What do you think of my son?”

You watched his face after he asked this question. Unsure enough for your lips to remain steadily closed and your eyes to flutter about his face, landing into those familiar brown eyes that now seemed to look at you with a different sort of fondness you had not yet noticed from him before.

Was this a trick?

Had you walked into a trap?

“Umm..Assistant Byun has proven himself to be an invaluable asset to my team. He is sharp, insightful, and incredibly capable. Much too valuable to be stuck as my assistant for any longer, which is why I’ve processed his transfer out so much sooner than anticipated. Perhaps you’ve noticed, he will be moving on next week.”

President Byun watched silently with that same smile on his face as you raved about his only child and when you were out of compliments to give, you closed up your mouth and looked into his expectant face with your eyes growing wider the longer he looked at you in silence.

“Mhmm, I see,” He said after a while and his eyebrows lifted as he tilted his head.

“And what do you think of my son…as a man.”

His eyes did not leave your face and you inhaled a breath to hear his follow up question and the implications it concealed. It definitely felt as if you had walked into some sort of a trap here with his knowing smile and his trustworthy and open stance. He was standing close to you and had angled his torso in your direction. He had given you his full and undivided attention and possibly even cleared out a long block of time in his busy schedule just for you and you instantly closed up your lips; taking a tiny step backward and crossing your arms over your chest at just how dangerous this little talk of his felt. This unofficial, off the record talk, in which he had yet to actually ask you the question — the favor or whatever it was that he claimed to be so ashamed to have to ask you to consider.

The shift in your body language loosened his tongue and out from his chest came the smallest chuckle of amusement.

“I have to admit. I’m a bit disappointed. As a loving father to that kid — that brat. Over the past few months of him working closely with you, I admit I noticed some incredible changes in him and silly me, it actually did get my hopes up a bit. I thought — I hoped there might be something there. Now I fear I’ve been wrong. You’re sending him away and he’s marrying some stranger.”

“And so now here I am — just a pathetic old man coming to a strong and capable and wonderful woman such as yourself, who I’m sure has her share of men to choose from and asking her just to consider him.”

“What exactly are you asking of me?” The longer he went on, the less this felt like a trap. It felt like the carefully trodden steps of a father who loved his son and wanted what was best for him, even at the expense of his own pride.

“Nothing really. You can just turn around and leave and this conversation will have never officially happened, in fact if you are so offended that you wish to file suit for this; I would have it coming and settle immediately. I understand that this is inappropriate of me to ask.”

“Mr. Byun,” you said softly, removing the formal title and addressing him in a way that took a little of the pressure off, “I’m not…offended so much as I am just a bit cautious; yet, I do feel the need to answer you honestly, as difficult as it may be to say. Just to answer your question from earlier, as a man, Baekhyun is just lovely. To me, he is. He is funny and caring and handsome and he was raised right. There is so much to like about him. That much is clear. Any woman, myself included, would be absolutely lucky to have him. Honestly, and this is quite embarrassing to admit to you; but, I’d be lying if I said I’ve never seen him in that way.”

Your words had an effect on the man. You saw the widening of his smile, a genuine grin that reached his eyes and he even went so far as to lightly clap his hands together just once out of happiness. You couldn’t help your own smile even if you did have to look away from him to keep yourself from giving away too much.

“That’s good enough for me. Let me just put it out there. If something should transpire and you happen to steal him away from her…let’s just say I wouldn't be mad about it. We all have our favorites and I don't even know who she is. But I know you and I couldn't sleep at night without at least having said it. I hope you’ll forgive this silly old man for the intrusion.”

“Of course, Mr. Byun.” The smile on your face was as genuine as the endearing words from this man that you’d absorbed straight into your heart.

You said your farewells and as you made it closer to the door, Baekhyun’s father called back to you with his hands to get your attention, making a motion like he was zipping his lips closed and locking them tight with an imaginary key as he gestured toward where his son waited on the other side of that door. The message was clear. Baekhyun shouldn’t know about his father’s plan to get you to steal his affections away from whatever mystery woman he had promised to spend his life with.

You smiled and nodded your head in response, placing a hand over the center of your chest in a promise to the man that his secret was safe with you, you would do your best with your new task, and he could trust you with the minor details of it all.

This was really the best case scenario in every way possible. It wasn't that you didn't want to tell him the truth about you and Baekhun’s relationship right now. After having talked with him, you knew you could trust the man to support you both. But you could tell just how much he was enjoying crafting this scheme of his and you would much rather have him believe he was a relationship mastermind later, than know right now about how inappropriate and unprofessional the mentor/mentee relationship with his son had already been up until this point.

When you pushed the big heavy door open you could hear Baekhyun’s voice as he appeared to be deep in a conversation about pyramids with the president’s secretary.

“…actually in Mexico, in Cholula there’s a pyramid twice the size of the biggest one in Giza, but the problem is it’s buried so it just looks like a big hill. The Spaniards built a church on top of it. But if you’re looking for the oldest pyramids, then definitely Egypt is the place to —,” Baekhyun said; his voice trailing off at the end when he noticed you emerging from the office.

“Hey man, thanks for this.” The secretary said to Baekhyun as he motioned to something on his phone. Gone was the disinterested and blank stare; the man was downright jolly as he looked down at whatever it was Baekhyun had provided.

Clearly your boyfriend was the kind of pyramid expert that you simply were not and you vowed to brush up on several wonders of the world the moment you had a few hours to spare.

The second you were both out of earshot Baekhyun turned to you with bright eyes and a hopeful smile on his face.

“What happened in there? What did you two talk about?”

You bit down on your lips and shrugged your shoulders lightly, avoiding his eyes in favor of finding the ever elusive elevator button to press.

“Umm..” you let your response trail off under the guise of needing every bit of your focus for this task in front of you.

You were extra careful to press it slowly and you did not let up until you were satisfied that the button had been pressed and was lit up in just the right kind of way. You listened carefully, craning your neck a little until the far away sounds of the ascending elevator box could be faintly heard as it made its way up to you.

Beside you, Baekhyun was vibrating with anticipation.

He was a remarkably patient man. You could see his movements out of the corner of your eye as you looked ahead and waited for the elevator.

“Noona,” he barked straight from the center of his chest, the nickname said in the gruffest most annoyed sounding tone you’d ever heard him use with you.

The sound of it pulled your eyes away from that illuminated up arrow on the wall and you looked into his once expecting, and now outright demanding face with his raised eyebrows and parted lips, his arms crossed over his chest and his huffing and puffing breaths through his open mouth. Oh, he was worked up.

“What did he say?”

You pursed your lips and you shook your head back and forth in shallow passes.

“Well…Not…much, really. And nothing bad.” Your staggered words had him reeling and when the elevator doors opened, you stepped inside quickly; standing against the back wall. The very picture of innocence.

“Oh my god. He’s up to something. He’s scheming. I just know it. I don’t trust it. And now you — you won’t even tell me what you two talked about —”

He was going now. Really, really giving into the whiny, put-out mood he’d been in since the confrontational chat with his dad about his love life. You knew you had to give him something just to ease his worries a little bit — if not, to save your eardrums. This was not the place to reveal everything that had been discussed in that top floor office.

“It was just kind of an upper management check-in, Baekhyun. Nothing out of the norm after a project wraps or after a high profile employee, such as yourself,” you motioned with a hand over the length of him, “moves onto another department. I gave you glowing reviews, of course. And I meant every word.”

He had been covering his whole face with his hands when you started speaking. Once you were done declaring the whole father-secret girlfriend talk ‘no big deal’ with a flippant hand wave, you renewed your focus ahead of yourself with a newly formed interest in watching the descending numbers on the elevator’s digital display, Baekhyun’s hands had fully fallen to his side and he was watching your profile with what some might consider a suspicious eye squint.

He did not respond to you in any way. He merely watched your face and you were extra careful to keep your focus on the numbers that any moment now, would halt on your floor and give you an excuse to exit this little box of deceit.

You weren’t cut out for this. Not with him. You couldn't stand not being able to tell him every single thing that happened, and frankly the excitement that was bubbling up inside of your chest threatened to spill out all over his crisp white dress shirt.

Not only did you have his father’s encouragement and blessing, but inside of you, you felt the kind of euphoria one might feel after receiving their very own Presidential Pardon. Which in a way, you kind of did. Ever since you started working closely with Baekhyun, you’d shared nearly everything with him. It didn't even take much for you to spill. He could usually sniff you out based on your body language alone or you would spill the truth of any situation with him simply because he was your ally and if you didn’t share it with him; what even was the point of having a trusty assistant.

After the relationship started it was a no-brainer. You told him everything because you wanted to. You loved him and you wanted him to know the things you knew. You were pretty sure it was mutual because oftentimes you’d catch yourself listening to some long rambling story of his. Him detailing something mundane, while you being completely transfixed just feeling pleasure from the sound of his voice and not even minding that, if you were in your right mind, you would have zero interest in the temperature of the soup served in the work cafeteria or the ratio of noodles to shrimp (it was one. One single, lonely shrimp in the entire bowl of noodles) in today’s stir fry.

You could not lie to Baekhyun. You could only run away.

And run away you tried, the elevator dinged and the doors began to open and you were out of there before those doors had even parted enough for a single, normal person to exit. You squeezed through and your feet were carrying you with a remarkable quickness.

Halfway through your journey away from him, you realized that rushing made you look so much guiltier and by the time you reached your office and pushed your door open, frantic eyes behind you told you that he wasn’t even chasing. In fact, he was taking his time walking in between the cubicles without even the slightest bit of urgency.

Perhaps he just … bought it?

Maybe he actually believed that all you and his father talked about up there was his recent performance as an Assistant.

Of course you would tell him the truth. The moment you both had any significant amount of time together you would spill it. The second you had his pretty face in your sights and his hands inside of your hands; the strands of his hair raked through your fingers and the smell of his warm skin floating over your parted lips as you breathed him in.

You knew it had to wait until you had him alone. You could not trust yourself after you told him this news. You could not be held responsible for what you might do.

The moment you entered your office, you were greeted by the smiling face of Assistant Cha, who up until this very moment you had simply forgotten existed. The surprise of finding her sitting inside your closed up office made you jump and you gasped out in shock at first before you tried to recover as quickly as possible; replacing the look of surprise with a friendly smile and following the startled, “Ahh” with hastily covered up, “Ahh -Ohh—hello…there Assistant Cha.”

It took a good ten seconds to recover and a few deep breaths later you had found some words for the girl.

“Have you been waiting long? Assistant Byun should be around any moment—”

“Sunny, did you finish? Already?” Baekhyun’s voice broke through your words, paired with the sound of your office door being thrust open and you whirled around to see his head poking through the opening and his abrupt words directed at Assistant Cha.

You watched his face, expecting to catch some hidden look from him, perhaps a secret eyebrow raise or at least a bit of that smile but you received none.

His focus was only on Sunny, who was standing with her arms filled with stacks and stacks of papers and a whirlwind of an overwhelmed expression in her eyes.

She received a wide and beautiful smile from him. A sweet reward for all of her efforts.

“Of course you did!” He sang out through the breathtaking smile and he was pushing a rolling chair across the open office, through the open door for her to set the stacks of papers on. He was telling her things like how she could go home early today and how he would likely see her around the building next week and they should maybe do lunch after they get settled into their new roles.

It all felt very purposeful. He was getting rid of the girl. He was getting rid of the only link to reality you’d both desperately clung to all day long, the only thing that so far had worked to keep you both away from each other for long enough for any actual work to get done.

As much as you’d wished for her to leave the two of you alone all day, there was a dryness building in your mouth to watch her leave.

You inhaled a breath through parted lips, swallowed away at nothing, and bit down on your bottom lip, chewing lightly on the flesh held between your teeth and you watched him take two careful steps through the threshold of your office and turn around to close the door behind him quietly.

You didn’t know what to do with yourself. Whether it was the after affects of keeping the secret for the past probably six hours, or so it felt like — a quick glance at the clock on your wall confirmed that only ten minutes had passed since you’d run away from your boyfriend with your guilt eating you alive from the inside and, Jesus Christ, the realization that you hadn’t even lasted long enough to enjoy a coffee break before you began to self combust was a shocking reality check — whether it was the filthy lie, or the fact that this beautiful man had just closed you both up alone inside of this office after you’d been denied the touch of his hands and the taste of his lips for an entire eight-hour work shift; you did know know which breathtaking effort you were finding more difficult to withstand.

He moved slowly and you swear to god you could hear an overwhelmingly frantic thumping well inside of your ears. The sounds from outside of this private space were cut off with the click of that door and the silence was so very loud.

Baekhyun took his time. He moved with careful and deliberate steps, even pausing his journey through your office to look down and run his fingertips down the length of his necktie, straightening it out and then running hands down the length of his suit jacket, from his broad chest to his cinched waist, smoothing out wrinkles that did not exist.

Your hands gripped each other tightly in the center of your hips and you were thankful that you were already leaning against your desk because you weren’t certain you wouldn’t drop to your knees the moment he stood in front of you.

To beg forgiveness or…

Baekhyun hadn’t spoken to you since he closed the door and at least he seemed to have reached a destination. He sat down on the end of your sofa, closest to where you stood — or leaned — whatever; and at last he turned his face, his big brown eyes looked up into your face and he stared into your eyes without speaking a single word. You closed up your mouth and pulled your arms tight over your chest and lifted your eyebrows in his direction.

In your mind, you liked to think you looked at least a little strong. Maybe a touch formidable. A challenge he would struggle to overcome. Perhaps.

“I’ll be honest with you,” he spoke very suddenly and very softly. Nearly under his breath, “I am annoyed with you right now.”

He did not blink as he said it. His face did not falter.

You held your breath and felt your eyebrows tremble once over your eyes. Swallowing didn’t seem to help much with dryness in your mouth and you nearly couldn’t stand to maintain eye contact with him. You glanced down at the floor once before working up the nerve to look into his face once more.

“Not annoyed enough to matter,” he conceded the moment he had your eyes again. “I’m more amused by this right now. By how uncomfortable you look, Noona. You really cannot lie to me, not even a little bit, can you?”

His lips pulled into a smile the longer he looked at you and you felt every bit of your resolve crumble with the deep sigh that you pulled into your chest and exhaled through your parted lips.

“Fine,” you said, “I’ll tell you.” You said it with your eyes closed and the defeat evident in your tone.

When you opened your eyes he was leaning forward with his forearms resting over his parted knees and he was looking at you with his eyes wide open and his tongue inside of his mouth messing with his teeth. You could see the movement in his jaw. After a few moments he bit down on his lips.

This hopeful and expectant stance had you feeling a certain way. Perhaps just a little bit indignant that he would read you so very easily about every little thing. Were you not allowed to have any secrets from him? Were you not a human being too?

Sure this was directly related to him and directly involved his father and basically his entire life, but the man was just so difficult to keep in the dark about anything.

“For the record, I was going to tell you,” you lifted a hand. It felt like a defensive stance. “I was always going to tell you. I was getting ready,” you emphasized the word, “to tell you.” You closed your lips up and he leaned back on the sofa, swallowing with a visible bob of his throat and blinking his brown eyes slowly at you, “when we were alone.”

“So the talk with your dad went well,” you lifted your eyebrows and looked around the room without any real focus before you danced right back into his eyes. You filled your lungs, feeling like you couldn’t quite get enough air for this.

“We did speak about you — that was the truth. I did report about how you’ll be transferred out next week and how great and awesome and handsome you are — wait. I didn’t say that at first.”

His eyes widened as you stumbled a bit over your words and he ticked his head slightly.

“Noona,” he mumbled, a slight alarm on his voice. You raised a hand to shush the man while you tried your best to put your words together.

“Okay so first, I did give him the report.” You weren't quite sure why you kept returning to this point, but it felt so much safer than the next part of the talk you were desperately trying to just get out of your mouth, while also hoping you didn't actually need to say outloud.

“Second, he asked me to—” you waved a hand around, palm up, shrugging your lips with a little head shake, “asked me to, maybe consider?”

You pulled your lips wide, baring your teeth, “a-asked me to seduce you? And steal you away from this mystery woman you’re going to marry?” The upward inflection definitely made your words sound like several questions and you winced once your own words hit your ears.

You had to cover your own face with your hands.

His mouth had fallen open and his shoulders had sagged as he watched your face with wide brown eyes.

You uncovered your face and he was still staring at you without speaking a word. You were compelled by some unknown force, probably directly related to the insane butterflies that you felt fluttering around inside of your stomach with having to actually say this out loud.

He wasn’t speaking, but boy, were you.

“I don't know? I don't know.” Your eyes were wide enough to pop out of your head. You dropped the hands from your face and felt twitchy all over. A hand returned to covered over your mouth and you felt those same butterflies threatening to burst free.

You felt a small giggle come out of your chest, “he says I’m his favorite. I think I might have told him I found you lovely,” you said through a hopeless laugh, “and attractive too, I definitely said that. I’m pretty sure he believes I am going to take my assignment very seriously, and take that other woman down. I might have only imagined that part. Is it hot in here?” Your skin felt humid. You uncrossed your arms and pulled the suit coat off over your shoulders and tossed it into a heap onto a chair.

Baekhyun had both of his hands covering his open mouth and you heard the first sounds from him in the form of a quiet gasp before he was speaking.

“Noona —” his mouth opened wide but no additional words came out. When he stood up from the sofa it was to wave his hands around in front of himself with a sort of speechless wonder in his eyes, “fucking, WHAT?” He finally exploded with his noisy question, followed by the breathy, humorless laugh of genuine disbelief that broke free from his chest.

“Oh my god.” His body was in motion even though his feet stayed firmly planted in place. This revelation rolled over him from head to toe and he moved from the waves of it. His skin turned flushed and you could see the half amusement half disbelief on his expression. At last his hands lifted to cover his face with another, drawn out, “oh my god, this is so—” His voice grew muffled and from under his hands, out came, “so, so embarrassing. What the hell, Dad?”

His hands lifted. His eyes were wide and that pinkness was still coloring his cheeks, making the flush of his skin look quite pretty and you responded with a wide smile that you had no control over.

He was looking into your face and the movement in him seemed to settle the longer he looked at you. It took a few moments of it for your wide smile to even out and you looked into his face with tiny remnants of that delight returning with tiny twitches at the corners of your lips.

On his face, you witnessed the opposite happening, his embarrassment faded and with the quiet observations of you that he so openly partook in, you saw the first small hints of a smile beginning on his lips. He breathed through an open mouth and his lips pulled incrementally wider with each puff of air from his lungs until a genuine and breathtaking smile colored his beautiful face.

It was your favorite smile on your favorite face belonging to your favorite human being.

“So what is your plan?” he asked. “How will you manage to seduce me?” His eyes dropped slowly over your face to touch on your lips the moment you bit down and pondered this new task of yours.

“Do you think you can really do it?”

“Hmmm…,” you lifted a finger to your chin. His brown eyes followed the movement and his smile widened before he reined it in with an inhale through his nose.

“Well, probably,” you shrugged. “Doesn’t seem that hard to steal you away.”

A laugh broke free from him and he took a step closer to where you stood.

“You sound very confident. What makes you so sure?”

You straightened your spine, lifted your chin, and you took a step, allowing yourself to lean just a bit closer to him and the movement pulled his brown eyes over your face once more. They lingered again down on your lips.

“See,” you said in a whisper. He swallowed and pulled his eyes slowly up into your smug ones, “you’re already thinking about it.”

“What am I thinking about? You and I are just talking,” he said, “besides, I’m going to marry her.”

This had you smiling. You had to turn your face away from him and you lifted your left hand, placing your fingertips over your bottom lip briefly.

“I hear she doesn’t even wear a ring,” you said as you lifted an eyebrow, “can’t be that serious without a ring.”

You were joking of course. It had only been one day. Just last night you’d spontaneously agreed to marry him, and he had, of course, spontaneously asked you as you were both caught up the moment. Your joke had his attention though and you heard a sharp inhale pulled in through his nose.

You caught motion in his mouth as his tongue ran over his teeth and after witnessing the evidence of a few of his internal struggles he broke all eye contact with you and looked somewhere behind you where your office desk was.

“That’s just because she hasn’t looked inside the right drawer of her desk yet.” His eyes pulled back into yours and your mouth flew open in genuine surprise. You gave a small head shake and looked behind toward your desk.

He couldn’t be serious.

The little bubble that was this little charade popped in an instant and you looked into his face. He had the smallest smile there.

“Are you kidding me right now?” You were back to yourself; taking a step to walk away from him so you could round the side of your desk. You pulled at the desk drawer handle, finding the upper smaller drawer completely empty save for a few flat documents in yellow folders. You gave a little whine from the back of your throat and closed it up.

Baekhyun’s face was blank now; completely devoid of any clues as to what sort of a trick he was playing on you.

Your curiosity had grown to be too much and you reached lower, having to bend at the waist to pull the bigger bottom drawer open and inside sat a small bag; a strikingly familiar bag; the same bag he had been carrying with him when he came back from lunch and had received a delivery from one of your favorite bakeries down the corner.

You grabbed the bag and peered down inside, seeing one very delicious looking chocolate cake slice in a completely clear plastic clamshell container without anything else at all concealed inside the bag.

A motion to your side nagged at your focus and a sensation that gripped ahold of your empty left hand pulled your face out of this bakery bag with nothing more than a slice of cake and you searched for him for any clues at all about what he was playing at.

What you felt was something small pressed with his fingertips into the palm of your left hand; something cold and metal and heart fluttering.

You felt him lean into you then; the warmth of him touched your cheek and his lips pressed lightly against your earlobe as you heard the rasp of his lungs as he inhaled to speak to you.

“Excuse me, I think you dropped this,” he said into your ear and inside your hand he left a ring behind. You felt the trembling in your limbs as you lifted your hand to see it and you had to place the bakery bag down on your desk because it was rattling in your grip.

With your left hand lifted and cradled by your right hand you held the precious little thing up to your face; somehow not quite convinced you weren’t actually dreaming right now. Sure you knew he had asked you and yes you had agreed but there was a different more certain emotion that was bubbling up inside of your chest right now as you looked down at the sparkling diamond and you couldn’t help the tiny question that broke from your lips, “Baekhyun are you serious? This is mine?”

He was moving then. He reached for the ring with his fingertips and his other hand gently gripped your left hand and turned it over and you watched as he slid the diamond into your ring finger. It was beautiful. The center stone was enormous and the trailing diamonds that lined the band threw sparks as you moved your hand. You couldn’t pull your eyes away from the undeniable sparkle and opulence that you saw in this thing. You didn’t even want to imagine how much he had paid for this. It was so much more that you had even anticipated

“When did you even get this? We’ve been together all day and even all night; how did you do this?”

“Don’t ask me how long I’ve had it, or how long I’ve been carrying it with me,” he said as he watched your face. Inside his eyes you were caught in a myriad of emotions that were clear and evident. You were captured by the sincerity with which he spoke these words to you.

It took what was left of your breath away, “Just know that for as long as I’ve known of your existence in this world, you have been the one. I was always going to marry you. I’ve never been more sure of anything in my entire life, as I am about you.”

[to be continued]

Links: Part 1, … Part 16, Part 17, Part 18

#exo #exo fanfiction #exo smut #baekhyun #exo fic #exo scenario #baekhyun smut #baekhyun fanfic

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audiblehush · 19 days

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Listen, Polin has been my Roman Empire for months now, but this fandom is WILDIN’.

Chunks of this fandom who claim to be Polin fans seem to hate either Colin or Penelope and I’m just like… why are you here, then, if you refuse to empathize or even TRY to understand either critical half of the pairing?

“Colin can’t see what’s in front of him and he insulted her in front of his peers!! GROVEL; I hope Pen moves onto Debling!!!”

First of all, you’re not a Polin fan if you hate Colin so much you want her to move on to someone else. Second of all: yeah, no. Yes,Colin put his foot in his mouth, arguably in a big way because of status, but plenty of people in real life have experienced saying something that came off poorly to a group of people. Everything we know about Colin’s character tells us he is going to feel horrible about it; he’ll apologize, MEAN IT, and she’ll forgive him. She has her own apologies to make.

Believe it or, it is NORMAL for people to grow into romantic feelings slowly. Stop punishing Colin for discovering who he is by experiencing his own character arc with his own mistakes. He’s allowed to have flaws; he’s allowed to work through his insecurities!

Tbh, most of the criticisms I see of Colin are pretty surface-level and petty, so I don’t give them much real estate in my brain because they’re just… bad, lol.

On the flip side -

“Penelope feels entitled to Colin’s feelings; she’s selfish and the fucking worst!!”

S3 Penelope: *overhears Colin say he would never court her; BELIEVES him - decides she’s going to stop wasting her time, move on, and look for a serious suitor and marriage prospect a) as is expected of her in this era and b) so that she has security, especially considering her family’s dire financial straits.*

“Oh my GOD, this is so anti-Polin, how could she POSSIBLY even THINK about accepting a proposal from anyone but Colin?! GTFO”

SIGH, 1) we have NO IDEA how this plot line is going to pan out: Lord Debling may or may not be serious about her, we don’t know what that even looks like, or for how long. The show synopsis historically likes to play with the fandom expectations a lot. He may possibly propose… and if he does, it would clearly exist as a sort of parallel to S1…. but 2) GOD FORBID Penelope entertain the idea, despite very real fears and evidence that would lead her thinking it would likely be her ONLY proposal… or that even if Colin proposed post heavy-petting session, how on EARTH could she think that he would be doing it out of honor-bound obligation and not love. 🙄 Her potentially considering a proposal isn’t anti-Polin; it’s a realistic response and consideration to two (and likely an additional half) seasons worth of external and internal stressors that are tying into her character development.

Penelope’s heart is fragile for a multitude of reasons due to her home life, her prior experiences with Colin and Eloise AND the rest of the ton - it’s incredibly frustrating for people to ignore why she would potentially not believe Colin even if he DID confess / give her a marriage proposal, just like it’s frustrating when people don’t try to understand why Colin might struggle with his own feelings.

Some of y’all really don’t understand people like Penelope who have been told their entire lives that they are not enough, are terrified of putting themselves out there by being emotionally vulnerable and potentially rejected for the fundamental aspects of who they are… even though some of y’all claim to identify with Colin when he has his OWN STRUGGLES WITH SOME OF THESE SAME FEARS. And it’s almost worse because Pen is painfully SHY: You don’t just magically become confident one day because you decided to be; it is a constant battle against negativity that eventually becomes heavily internalized… it takes years of work unlearn those thought patterns, especially when you’re surrounded by people insulting and rejecting your to your face (her family) or behind your back (the way the ton talks about her family… it’s likely Pen heard gossip about herself, whether individually or as an extension of her family PLENTY)… with an added dose of also being ignored when not actively insulted.

It would not shock me at ALL if Penelope genuinely considers a Debling proposal. All of Colin’s actions in S1 and S2 have ultimately taught her that he is never going to return her feelings; she is likely going to be pretty oblivious to his own romantic realizations this season because why would she look for or entertain those hopes again? Some of y’all complain that she is selfish about Colin’s romantic feelings (which lol, I disagree strongly, but sure hypothetically, I’ll allow it) … so then when she tries to move on by listening to him and his actions she’s suddenly… punishing him and undeserving of him?? When she would have every reason to be skeptical of these feelings coming from seemingly nowhere when he starts of the season trying to find her a husband? NAH fam, she’s doing what anyone with any sense of emotional self-preservation would do: move on and try to be content, even if she knows she’ll always love Colin in her heart.

AND even if Penelope develops potentially fond feelings for Debling… do you really think it’s unrealistic for a 19 year old young woman who has done nothing but pine over a man who is oblivious to it (or worse, finds a romantic relationship with you laughable… in her eyes), who has not had ANYONE be romantically interested her… to maybe get a little fluttery around someone who is reasonably nice looking and shows her genuine interest right off the bat? Spoiler Alert: that is probably exactly what would happen because it’s a heady feeling!!!

This entire plotline is either a parallel to the Marina situation, or a reference to the book line that basically has Colin going “Oh shit, what if I had never realized Pen is the love of my life?? What if someone else had seen how amazing she was and snatched her up??” - Maybe it’s even both! Deep breath: it’s a just plot device for Polin to realize they’re made for each other.

Colin and Pen are going to be on their own journeys this season that fly in the face of what the other is going through. Colin is grappling with newfound romantic feelings for Penelope (while likely struggling to trust them because he thought he loved Marina but lol no he didn’t, so how is he supposed to know???) while also battling against former (and potentially current) impulsive actions… and Penelope is fighting for her LIFE trying to bury her feelings and move on because she’s trying to protect her heart because Colin literally said out loud he’d never want her AND she’s likely thinking of her security. They are both grappling with internal conflicts that oppose the other and THAT is what is going to make the tension and development so good… and that’s without even addressing all the LW stuff that needs to get worked through!

I need y’all to flex that empathy muscle a little and realize that this isn’t about fucking fan-service, or you projecting your own experiences onto these characters (or even the weird self-insert “I am/want to be this character” or “I want to fuck this character”) - you can relate to these characters but ultimately it’s about the STORY - it’s about exploring these characters realistically in how they would react to their own traumas and lived experiences, and how what they think they want/need comes into conflicts with their counterparts.

This is a romantic DRAMA, and these characters are going to have their ups and downs… and it’s a Shondaland drama for better or worse, so you KNOW it’s going to get messy (good lord just look at S2 and how far that “love” triangle went… I’m hopeful for the new show runner because she’s a fan).

Polin will be canon because they unreservedly CHOOSE the other and it will be glorious, so everybody chill the fuck out and stop shitting on my imperfect, emotionally fragile yet beautifully relatable, evolving lovers. They are the BEST fucking ship, but most of this fandom doesn’t deserve them tbh. They’re both messes in their own ways, and honestly? If they were real, neither Colin nor Penelope would tolerate this slander y’all are throwing at the other.

LEAVE COLIN AND PENELOPE ALONE AND LET THEM MUDDLE THEIR WAY TO TRUE LOVE. 🤬

#polin #bridgerton #I have faith in the writers because nic and luke understand their characters and they are happy with it #thank god this fandom isn’t in charge of the writing - Colin and Pen deserve writers who LIKE them and UNDERSTAND them #in all their glorious messiness and complexity #Colin would be throttling some of y’all with how you slander Pen #and Pen would have destroyed the Colin haters with a stroke of her quill #power couple #I just want to gush with people over how much I love these two characters #and instead it’s fucking character bashing in their own damn ship #I love fandom but I also hate it

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stuckinapril · 13 days

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Hi, I’m an Iraqi girl currently in Baghdad, this is a fact that I’ll never reveal to anyone on the internet for multiple reasons, from privacy to just the fact that I know I wouldn’t be able to hold it together if racists found me, I’m terrified, terrified of what Iran and the US would do to my home, I love Iraq, its culture, its beauty, it’s everything, yet I feel like when I finally start a life for myself I’d wanna get out, I don’t want to, this country holds so many memories dear to me, yet I can’t live in fear wondering if my home would be attacked the next day, I went to college today and me and some friends started talking about the missiles that were spotted yesterday, and we joked that even if there’s war we’d still be forced to attend college, yet I think that all of us were just saying it because we’re scared, I’m sick and tired of white-supremacists destroying my home and culture, you said your mother fled Iraq after the US invasion and my mother did too, we fled to Jordan where we already had some family there, but, we couldn’t stay, not because it wasn’t safe for us there, but it was my mom, my mom is a general surgeon, a fact that she considers one of her greatest achievements, she’s not done because she’s currently getting her doctorate, but she wasn’t allowed that when she was in Jordan, she wasn’t allowed to work as a doctor, she wasn’t allowed to even CLAIM she was a doctor, she got pissed because she didn’t work her ass off so that she’d be denied that right, so we came back about two years later, at least by then it was somewhat peaceful? Still sucked but it was ever so slightly safer, racism towards Arabs doesn’t just come from Europe and America, it also comes from our own neighbours, I don’t know what point I’m trying to make of this, I just needed to get it off my chest and felt like this was the safest place to do so, thank you in advance for listening

Hi no it’s so incredibly important that you sent me this. So many people have sent me asks about how “Iraq has shut down its airspace in collaboration with Iran,” which I understand. I understand that Iraq is aligned with Iran. I understand it was a necessary counterattack. But I also think it’s so important to humanize the Iraqis residing there, who live in fear regardless, who understand that with this war there will always be the “collateral damage” civilians. It’s not fair for you to be be joking about war while westerners abroad debate the political connotations of something that doesn’t even directly affect them.

And yeah, unfortunately Jordanians have always been racist to Iraqis. My uncle’s family encountered similar problems when he moved there—he basically had to fly between Iraq and Jordan regularly, bc it’s impossible to find a stable job in Amman. I feel for your mother. I feel for the fact that she didn’t want to throw away all her hard work. This is the rock and a hard place conundrum Iraqis are stuck between. Not religious but I’m still praying for your safety, for your mother’s safety, and for you to never have to know what it feels like to be going to school while Iraq is caught in the middle of war. It has had enough war to last it a lifetime. I’m sorry angel

#Like really truly sorry for everything you must be feeling

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oh-shtars · 6 days

Text

“This Wish” Rewrite ✨

(RFTS!Au Version)

Hello!! It’s Flicker here again!

I’ve decided to give a shot at rewriting Asha’s “I Want” song and see what I could come up with.

The original song was…okay. It’s not a bad thing to listen to. I personally think the chorus and the instrumental there is really pretty. It just felt weirdly lacking? I’m sure there are many people out there who share the same criticism with me, so I’m not going to go all out on that.

Anyways, back to the thing at hand.

For context:

RFTS!Asha is a servant girl at the castle who’s a dreamer and someone with a huge imagination for what there could be. The thing is, that spark has been buried down after the tragic loss of her father’s life. Now she’s terrified of having her hopes up, in fear of facing that same agony of losing another dream.

While she never lost that daydreaming habit of hers, Asha often finds herself cowering away rather than committing. And this often causes her to go back on some of her promises. She’s frustrated that this stupid flaw of hers is holding her back from reaching out to those she loves.

This is evident when Asha has secretly been noticing that Rosas’ citizens aren’t actually as happy as they claim to be. They’re dull, missing that zest and stuck in a cycle of dissatisfaction. She knows there must be something they’re missing but…what? As the king’s assistant, she’s the only one close to him with a chance to negotiate on what could be done to address this problem.

But it’s the king! He’s snapped at her times before. What if…? But what about the people she loves?

As Asha sings this song, she fights an internal battle within while expressing her frustrations and how she wants to break free from the chains she’s made for herself.

…………….

Isn’t this the place where dreams come true?

Then why does it all feel so way out of place?

If I could show them the life they have embraced,

Open their eyes to their own lies,

Would they question it all like I did?

But when I start, my head says “Sit Down,”

So how could I when I could barely be worth something?

For too long I have withdrawn, and avoided every song,

Now time has gone and now I don’t know where I belong,

So do I look up to the stars above me? Or keep caution at every warning sign?

Should I let the dreams within me rise and soar free?

Or should I pay no heed and stay in line?

Still, I hold this wish,

That they’ll have something more for them than this,

Still, I hold this wish,

That I’ll do something more for them than….this,

Hey, yeah, yeah, yeah

Hey, yeah, yeah, yeah, ah-ah

More than this, (oh-ah-ah-ah)

For many years, I’ve kept my head down low,

Still did what I was told when someone told me ‘No,’

Yet, there’s a part of me who’s just yearning to glow,

A part that’s just longing to know,

It just won’t let me go!

With all these reservations and hesitations, I’m not sure where to even begin,

The risks and failures are daunting but I can’t just lose this fire from deep within,

If I could just be pointed in any given direction on where to go and what to do,

My legs are shaking but my head’s held high,

The way you always taught me to….

So I look up to the stars to guide me,

And pray that they’d send some kind of sign,

I’m sure there will be challenges that find me,

But I want to take them on one at a time,

So I make this wish,

That they’ll have something more for them than this,

So I make this wish,

That I’ll do something more for them than….this,

Hey, yeah, yeah, yeah

Hey, yeah, yeah, yeah, ah-ah

More than this, (oh-ah-ah-ah)

So I make this wish…

That I’ll be something more….for us than…this…..

…….

The last line is meant to end at a sad note as Asha cowers away again, thinking that her wish to the skies has went unheard as per usual. No dramatic or hype instrumental at the end. Maybe a soft and melancholic melody instead?

Phew, my girl’s self esteem really is just: 📉📉📉

Btw, I want to make it clear that I AM NO SONGWRITER. So if the words are all clunky and weird at times, bear with me. 🥲

I don’t claim that this is “perfect” and “proof I could do better than Disney.” It’s just so I could better fit the song into my own version of the story. I might make a few changes along the way but we’ll see. :))

Thanks for Reading 💖

@annymation @gracebethartacc @signed-sapphire @uva124 @emillyverse @chillwildwave @tumblingdownthefoxden @ficsinhistory @your-ne1ghbor @rascalentertainments

#reach for the stars au #rfts au #wish au #wish rewrite #disney wish #wish asha #wish 2023 #wish reimagined #this wish #song rewrite #Spotify

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mugentakeda · 4 months

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opinion on Iroh living in Ba Sing Se in the comics ? :3c *bats eyelashes at Iroh meta mutual*

personally I get the political reasoning for it (he very much was well known for participating violently in the war so it'd be a pretty awkward way to start peace talks and such) but like... as an Iroh + Zuko codependency truther... hmn...

though he DOES come to the FN later in the comics to help Zuko out so its like.. did you leave him because you were terrified of making things worse ? were you convinced he didn't need you anymore and so lumbered off to BSS in self-imposed exile certain that you'd be a burden to his personal growth ? or did he just underestimate the distance .. forgot Zuko wouldn't be able to hop on a Bison all the time to visit him... driving me Krazy.

honestly. i think a horrific combination of all of these could work simultaneously. like theres political merit but also iroh might also personally somehow think him being away from zuko will benefit zuko (as if zuko didnt miraculously managing to undo his lifetime of Bad Things in less than like. A year. entirely through various methods of suffering. things that would take grown men their whole life and then some to undo, if even that. And hes like 16 and now hes a monarch and hes gonna be busting his ass everyday for the rest of his life until hes too old to stand up straight). and that yeah hed also underestimate how much being a world away from zuko actually sucks

because something i lovee highlighting in my art of them is that iroh doesnt just love his nephew, he likes his nephew. hes fond of his nephews crankiness, the hovering, the theatrics, the shouting and stomping, the awkwardness and thoughtfulness. there are probably days where iroh just cant work up the typical jovial customer service and diplomacy energy and just broods in the jasmine dragon because he keeps accidentally brewing enough tea for two, cooking enough dinner for two, calling through the house for his nephew and then remembering hes stuck cooped in the caldera, having screaming matches with his councilmen over how to deal with shit iroh and his brother and their forefathers did to scar the world not even before lunch time.

so its like. a combo of the Grand Lotus in iroh who focuses on the political merit and worldly benefits of him being in bss, the shitty ill in the dome codependent Uncle iroh who mopes over not having his prickly ass barnacle of a nephew looming over his shoulder and glaring at people all the time, the Bad At Emotions And Communicating guy in iroh that gets so ashamed of what hes willing to put his own kid through for the sake of the world that he doesnt know if he even has the stomach to visit the caldera and look his nephew in the eye as he drowns under mountains of stress dealing with irohs baggage, etc etc.

and there are also probably things zuko doesnt know about and iroh isnt sure if hed ever have the strength to tell zuko about. at the beginning of zukos joke banishment, the white lotus had been like well if you do decide to take the throne once we figure out how to take down ozai youll need an heir and if your nephew is as good deep down as you claim then maybe mold him to align with us so when you step down he could at the very least be a puppet ruler so we can ensure he doesnt start another war. and then that plan just got adjusted slightly and expanded upon once the avatar wasnt a fairy tale anymore. it hurts worse now after they had reconciled before the comet because now zuko looks at him with a loving, trusting, praising look, despite how little iroh believes he really deserves it. and worst of all he doubts theres anything he could really do to convince zuko that he doesnt deserve that because iroh would bet anything that zuko genuinely thinks hed deserve it if iroh decided he didnt want anything to do with zuko.

hes like doing these weird gymnastics where he pushes these hoity toity white lotus beliefs onto zuko despite barely even abiding by them himself , and then also knowing he doesnt deserve the blind adoration zuko has been showering him in lately. its like iroh takes all his conflicting emotions and opinions, puts them in a blender, drinks it, and then throws it all back up. i doubt theres anyway to conclude his thought process in a paragraph or less basically.

like i know a lot of people agree leaving zuko for bss retirement era is stupid and i agree but also consider the angst potential and also the white lotus is stupid and iroh is stupid and zuko isnt stupid but he also thinks iroh hung the sun and stars so its more sad on his part than anything because he cant even escape getting the short end of the stick with IROH and doesnt even know it. and it will probably stay that way. Lol!!!!!

#so in summary i think its all of the above . thank you gremkins #i had to stop myself because i could go on for like 1million more paragraphs about iroh and zukos dumbassery #weirdest best worst normalest insanest uncle nephew father son dynamic ever #they both are SO DERANGED!!!#atla #asks

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igotanidea · 1 year

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Afterlife :Jason Todd x plus-size!fem!reader

credit for the graphic goes to @3-minnnn (amazing work, I love it, hope you don't mind me using it here)

This is part 2 of Retaliation i.e. what happened after.

@jasontoddsthickbabe - special dedication goes for you :)

Warning : a bit of smut, so MINORS DNI!

***

Regardless of what people say, death is not the end.

Jason Todd had experienced that well enough. After all, his end was rudely interrupted by some crazy people who couldn’t just leave him be.

Anyhow, every culture has their own belief of what is waiting on the other side.

Angels, demons, jackal-headed gods to judge your actions and your soul, virgin, feasts etc.

Heaven or Hell.

Eternal pain or eternal happiness.

So many people try to believe there is something bigger than them in this world, some higher instance.

But death is also not what they claim to be a new beginning, a new story.

In some cultures, afterlife is pretty much the reflection of the life on earth with all the familiar places and people. Maybe without so much pain and hurt, but still. Surprisingly similar.

But the place she found herself in was neither of those.

First of all, it was so dark, she could barely see her own hand in front of her face.

Secondly, it was empty and cold and impossible to judge how big this place was.

And last, but not least, it was cold to the point where she started believing it could not be hell, unless someone made a stupid bet, ending starting from "the hell my freeze, but..."

For what she knew, she could have been standing on the edge of some cliff and nothing more than a step would make her fall and crash on whatever was down there.

How the hell did she got here?

And where exactly was here?

Slowly, the memories started coming back.

The capturing, the torture, the fight ….

The fight. Oh no. Last thing she could remember was Jason's pale, terrified face and desperate grip on her body as she started drifting off in his arms.

Wait, was she dead?

Instinctively she reached towards her neck where, as she recalled, Marseille dragged his knife, almost expecting to find a scar, or even still bleeding injury. But there was nothing. Maybe a bit of roughness, barely palpable.

Poor Jason.

Her heart clenched when his name came onto her mind, picking up the pace, hands started trembling. Atop of previous layers of trauma he’s been through, now she added to it. Fuck, she died in his arms! He literally had her blood on his hands!

If she wasn’t already dead, she would probably hurt herself for bringing that on him. A single though that it was not her fault and she was the victim, not a perpetrator did not cross her mind for even a second.

Come on, Y/N, think. You are familiar with the bats. They have come back to life more times than any average person should be allowed to. How did they do that? Apart from the Lazarus Pit, of course. Think, think.

"Hello?" she called, not really expecting an answer and her voice echoed through the empty place.

"Hello, Y/N." the response got her by surpise and she jumped, startled. "Don't be afraid. You called and I came."

"Yeah, I.... um..... well" she stuttered. so many questions creeping in, all of them so cliche.

"It's ok." the newly arrived person assured, their face covered by the hood of the coat they were wearing "It's ok to ask."

"Am I .... dead?"

"It depends."

"What?" she scoffed "how can it depend? It's either yes or no. I mean I can't be half-dead, right?"

"Technically....."

"Oh, please" the girl rolled her eyes, now rather annoyed than scared "if you have to start a sentence from technically we are all doomed. I just... "

"Come with me. I'have to show you something. "

"And who are you exactly?"

"Think of me as your guide. You people have an inexplicable tendency to give name to everything and if that's the case with you, you can call me Shadow." they grabbed her hand and dragged her straight forward into something she so righteously believed to be the abyss.

***

"Where the hell did you take me?"

"Just be quiet and observe."

“Jason. You need to rest. You’ve been sitting by her bed for 48 hours straight.”

“Fuck off.”

“Be reasonable.”

“I said fuck off, Grayson.”

"Come on, bro. You won't help her in any way by beating yourself up." Dick put his hand on Jason's arm making the younger boy shudder and sigh deeply.

"I need to be with her, Dick. Just... a little more."

"Fine. But I will take over soon, is that all right? You know you should have some rest in a bed and maybe have a shower.

"I know."

Jason was the perfect example of misery and despair. Ever since what happened in that barracks he could not focus on anything else than her. He wasn’t eating, he wasn’t sleeping, spending all the time by his love’s bedside in a hospital room. Of course, Wayne money provided her with the best medical care that could have been bought, but he still did not trust any of those doctors. He was in his full alert mode, refusing to leave even for a second, observing each of the actions with cold, threatening gaze which made some of the doctors tremble. If it wasn’t for Dick, with his lighter attitude, most of them would probably run away.

It was a miracle, Y/N was still breathing and Jason was not taking any chances on that. If he had protected her better, she would be now laughing with him, holding hands and just spending time together in the best health. Instead, she was lying in the hospital bed, plugged to all those crazy medical equipment that were supposed to keep her alive. The cut on her neck was capably stitched, but the risk of it leaving scars was extremely high. She looked so small, fragile, pale and vulnerable.

And it was all his fault.

And he could not think of any way to recover from this, except for begging for her forgivness, if when she wakes up.

"Oh, Jay....." she whispered, few tears rolling down her cheeks. "Oh, my love" she took a few step forward, in desperate attempt to touch him and hold him, but she was a ghost without any material form "I am so sorry...."

"I am so sorry, baby." Jason spoke at the same time, almost as if he could hear her. "Please come back to me...." he sobbed, grabbing her limp, cold hand carressing it gently "I need you."

"I'm right here, baby."

"You do realise he cannot hear you, right?"

"I don't give a single...."

"LANGUAGE!"

"fuck" she smirked and finished the sentence despite Shadow's warning "I don't give a single fuck."

"For someone who's on the verge of saying goodbye to mortal life you have quite the humor. How about you take a look at yourself, instead of focusing on your lover boy, huh? Go ahead" they motioned towards the bed. "Sneak a peek at your broken mortal body."

As much as she did not want to, it was like his verbal nudge made her leg move without her thinking. She came closer towards, well, herself and froze at the spot. It was like looking in the mirror, just a tad more creepy. Bruises on her face, stiches on her neck and barely moving chest made Y/N shiver. And all that blinding white, underlying any lack of color on her. Seriously, why all the medical establishments insisted on using this color.

"How does it feel looking at yourself like that? Freaked out already?" Shadow asked, but much to his suprise Y/N turned her back towards the bed, facing Jason instead, muttering something under her nose, still reaching for him. "Ekhem, I'm sorry what are you doing?"

"I couldn't care less about myself. I've been with all the bats for so long that no injury can really scare me. But he ....." she shook her head "I can feel his pain.... so much of it."

"It's normal" shadow shrugged "you two had a connection."

"connection?!" she yelled standing up abruptly "I love him!! And you...." suddenly she felt taller and stronger "you better tell me how to get back to him."

"I don't .... you don't ...."

"I am not joking right now!" her eyes were so full of fire it made her guide tremble a bit. "Talk or I swear I will tear this whole place down and burn it to the ground. And if you are not willing to cooperate, I will be more than happy to talk to your supervisor or whoever the fuck .... what is that?" sudden warmth spreading on her forehead took her by surprise and she turned around only to notice Jay, leaning over her body and kissing her gently.

"Just hold on there, baby. I know it's tempting to stay on the other side and leave this fuckign city behind, but I can't help being selfish. I am here and I'm waiting for you. Please, find your way back."

"NOW!' she yelled at the Shadow again. She would rather tear her heart out than watch any more minute of Jason like this.

"I...... Fine, there's one way, but you are not going to like it."

***

“I just need to cross the bridge? That’s all?”

“Huh, good luck with that. We call it “the aisle of memories” for a reason. You must be truly desperate to refer to this.”

“Maybe. Or I am just deeply in love. And so it happens the recipient of it is currently losing his mind over my unconscious body. Fuck, he is almost praying! Jason! almost praying. And fuck me if I am going to let him plunge into despair.”

“Good luck then. You’re gonna need it.”

“How hard can it possibly be?” she shrugged and took the first step.

***

Time in the afterlife passes differently than in corporeal world. What seemed like hours for Y/n, was days and weeks for Jason. Extremely long days and weeks when he was spending days in her hospital room, napping on the armchair, refusing to let go of her hand and nights at patrolling in his Red Hood attire, much more violent and unpredictable than ever before. Even Dick and Bruce could no nothing to stop him, but honestly, as long he was not killing people again and avoided increasing his body count they were fine with it. If they even think of trying to stop him he would turn into a rabid animal, probably tearing down the manor. It was better to let him use all that rage, despair and fury on the field.

However, no one missed, how every night for the past two weeks after a patrol, he could not sleep. Instead of laying in his own bed, he was walking around like a ghost, constantly spotting her favorite things at the manor. The books she loved reading most, her chipped cup, she forbid Alfred to throw away, her cherished blanket…. The same blanket they used to cover themselves with while cuddling during watching the movies. Fuck, he missed all those little things, they were doing together. He missed her hugs, the way she was snuggling into him, making him feel like someone important. Like someone worth love.

And he just had to fuck it up.

***

Shadow was right.

Passing the bridge turned out to be slightly more difficult then she thought it would.

Just as she took the first step the anthropomorphic personifications of her past mistakes and fears materialized and of course, they took the form of Dick, Jason, Tim and Damian.

“Hello, Y/N” fake Dick smiled at her, his smile being lick-alike of this of the real Grayson

“Where are you going?” Tim pouted

“Leaving us so soon, baby?” Jason added

“don’t you think you’ve done enough damage, Y/L/N? Damian eyed her warningly

“do you remember the time you could not fight those guys in the alley and Jay had to come to rescue, getting badly hurt in the process?”

“Shut up, Dick!” she hissed taking a step forward, even though the guilt made her leg lead-like.

“Is that a way to talk to your friend? Almost brother?”

“You are not my brother.”

“You’re right. I am your pride. The one you never show and yet everyone around you see. Aren’t you just the most conceited?”

“I am not conceited!”

“Sure, sure, you keep telling yourself that.”

“It’s not true….” She focused on walking forward, turning deaf ear to Dick’s words.

“Competitive. Always trying to prove your point. Getting your own way. Individualistic. That is just painful, sweetheart. You want to cause me pain? Just like that one time when you were supposed to navigate me during patrol? Just like you did Tim?” he spat and disappeared into thin air.

“Tim?” she made a mistake of hesitating and felt the bricks slip from her feet making her fall to the ground. So that is how this was working. Heavy legs and mind traps. “I never hurt any of you!” it took a lot of strength to stand up and yet she managed to resume her walking.

“Really?” Tim asked “Little Miss Smarty Pants? Little Miss Expert on Technology? You always though yourself better than me, didn’t you?”

“I admired your work, Tim.”

“And yet you destroyed it.”

“How….” she tripped again, this time cutting her leg that started bleeding heavily “fuck….” Tim just laughed at her.

“I am your greed….” He flashed a predatory smile “such big ambitions and definitely too high treshold for your little feet. Poor, sweet girl, never fulfilling your aspirations. Remember that one time you lose to me in a competition. How did that feel?”

“Please, stop….” She gasped, feeling sudden pain in the chest, bending her to the ground “It’s not true….”

“Hm” Tim vanished and the youngest Wayne came into the scene. She was almost crawling forward now, and it was ironic how this little fella was towering over her, mocking poor girl with his gaze “Aren’t you just pathetic?

“Let me guess….” She hissed “you are vengeance, aren’t you?”

“Not even close.” He smirked “ I am fear.”

“Fe… fear?”

“What else? I am to remind you of all those time you acted like a coward. Burying your head in the sand, to put it lightly. Waiting for someone to take action instead of doing it yourself. Such a shame….” He cluck

“I never….”

“Let me think….” Damian tapped his chin and stepped on her back, stopping her from moving. Now this was embarrassing. “Oh, I know. The shooting. You had all the resources and skills to stop those attackers. And what did you do? You run. And yet, you still think we would need you back there. You are an useless menace. A liability.”

“I run to save two girls from dying because of the bullets!” she squirmed and crawled some more, now seeing little square of light at the end of the bridge. Probably the exit “You cannot… stop me….”

“Maybe. But I know someone who can. I’ll leave you two alone.” He laughed and followed his brothers out of sight.

“Oh, no…”

“Y/N.” Jason stood in her way blocking it. Of course they left him at the end. His brothers waited and weakened her enough so that a single word coming from him would break her.

He’s not real, he’s not real. The real Jason is waiting for you on the other side, weeping and ….

“You think I am not real?” his initial smile turned upside down “How about I show you?” with one move of his hands, he grabbed her waist pulling her close to his chest and connecting their lips, kissing her so gently, but with so much fire. How could this be fake if it felt so good? “My baby…” he cooed pulling back and cupping her cheek “how about you stay with me? Here. We would be together, forever” his lips moved to her cheek and neck, sending goosebumps all over her skin. Involuntarily, she arched her back towards him, wanting more, remembering how good it felt to have him so close and how long it was since she had his hands on lips on all her curves.

“Jay…..” she whined, losing all her focus, hands tangling in his hair.

“I’m here baby…. Let me make you feel good….”

“Ah….” She whined when he reached under her shirt, grabbing her breast and massaging it gently through the thin material of the bra “Please….”

“Tell me what you want, princess….”

“Take it off….” She tugged on his shirt and he quickly exposed himself to her, letting her hands roam his body freely. His abs, his pecs, his chest, his neck. All of him. “I need you….”

“I know baby… “ he muttered, kissing her again, grabbing her ass and wrapping her legs around his waist “always so desperate for me. Tell me” he unhooked her bra and tossed it away, licking her sensitive skin “does that feel good?”

“Jason….”

“It can always be like this. You just have to stay. Let go of what was. Stay with me. Here. You don’t need anything else. I was made especially for you….”

Those words were like a bucket of cold water on her hot skin and she pulled away instantly. Not without mentally cursing herself for that action.

Come back to me.

I need you.

Don’t leave me.

Those words started echoing through her head like a mantra.

“You are not my Jay.” She jumped away from him, covering her bare chest, now feeling embarrassed

“I am, baby, look at me. I told you, I’m yours…”

“Get away from me! Who are you?!”

“I am regret.” He smirked “don’t tell me you don’t feel guilty for falling for that little trap? For being so desperate for touch that you were just ready to let me take you right here right now.”

“But I did not.”

“How does that make anything better, princess? You still want me.”

“What I want” she hissed, forcing her legs forward and ducking under his arms, almost reaching that light. “is to get to my Jason back. You did not use me or turn me bad. If anything you showed me how much love I hold for the version of you that’s sitting my bed. And guess what?” she flashed him a smile “I won.”

***

Sharp exhale and beeping of the medical machine keeping Y/N alive made him jump on his feet instantly and turn around in search for a potential threat. Instead he met with shocked and terrified gaze of his beloved girl. Fully conscious.

“Y/N?” he asked carefully, mindful of the fact that she just woke up from two and a half week of coma and he was far from good looking. Fuck. He could have at least wore a clean T-shirt.

“Jason!” she cried, reaching her arms towards him and he could not care less about the look or the clothes as he rushed to her side, bringing her into his embrace, caressing her back, smelling her soft her, kissing her cheek and temple and forehead, over and over and over.

“My love.” He whisper “my princess. My baby. God, I was so scared for you.”

“I know. I’m sorry. But I’m back now. I’m back to you.” she hid face in that smelly shirt of his, not caring either “I’m back.” Her grip grew a bit tighter.

“And I won’t ever let you go anywhere far from me again. consider yourself being put under a house arrest.”

“As long as you stay with me.”

“Always.” He assured “right after I take my revenge. No one would ever hurt you again, I’ll make sure of that.”

“Jason?”

“Yes, princess?”

“Can you do something for me?”

“Anything.”

“I need you to teach me how to fight.”

To be continued <?>

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onlyoneofyongsoo · 1 month

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Why BUB actually fits into OOO's catalogue

Bump Up Business has been criticised for many things, and don’t get me wrong, it’s far from perfect, but there is one question I have heard a lot: “Why did OnlyOneOf of all people choose to do this? Doesn’t this show play exactly into the thing we have been defending them of?”

My own answer to this is yes and no. But let me explain.

In this I will not be discussing what the writers had in mind, because I don’t know them. But I’ll talk about why I think it makes sense OnlyOneOf would tell this kind of story, whether they actually had any say in choosing this drama or not.

The main argument for most peoples' criticism I’ve seen is “This show is about/glorifying queerbaiting.” But is it really? Both of the characters are already queer. Jihoon has dated at least one man and is very aware of his own sexuality. Eden is quickly established as being very insecure in his own sexuality, not because he’s straight, but because he’s queer and finds that hard to accept. So the show is about queer characters.

Okay, so how does the queerbaiting fall into this? Obviously there is queerbaiting present. Their company practically forces them to do it. Eden is very reluctant, but agrees after the company gives him an ultimatum. Jihoon is less reluctant, but also in a tight spot. He has fallen off and this is seemingly his last chance to save his career, something he wouldn’t give up even for the man he loved. So the characters take no pleasure in the queerbaiting, but is it a problem to them? Yes, actually. It is made clear that they have trouble telling apart what is real feelings and what’s just work. In episode 4 for example Jihoon asks Eden if he is struggling with their concept after Eden revealed how insecure he is in his sexuality. The question comes from a place of caring and honesty. Eden then answers that he is okay because it’s "just work". Since emotions and their hidden identities are now part of their work it gets all muddled and confusing for them.

You might say now “But that’s not the problem with queerbaiting! They’re leading their fans on!” And from a fan’s perspective I agree. They are leading them on. But this isn’t about fans, this show is about idols. What would it be like for a queer idol to work in an industry where you are urged to act queer but to never be queer? How would that affect your personal life?

In the drama the queer characters hide their identity. Even after Hyunbin spread these awful rumours about Jihoon, they don’t reveal their relationship. Evidently having rumours about being with women is still better than revealing that you’re gay. The entire time they keep any real relationships under wraps.

On top of that, in a way Eden has to out himself for his job. Even though he of course isn’t allowed to be actually queer, acting this lovey-dovey with another man in public sure must feel like he’s coming out and he is clearly uncomfortable with that. Interviewers and netizens are constantly questioning their relationship as well. Are they gay? Are they straight? Do they naturally act that way? Is the company forcing them? Having all your actions be scrutinised and dissected like this, especially as a closeted queer person is terrifying.

Once again I’m not claiming that the writers wanted to represent queer idols’ struggles, but I think you can understand how this might be able to be read that way, especially by idols themselves.

Now how does this fit in with OnlyOneOf’s usual work, besides the obvious queer element? For that I’d like to remind you of June 2022. That is the month we started off the undergrOund idOl project. If you’re like me, then that name probably made you question it. What does it mean? I remember theories about it being about struggling as a relatively unknown group and things along those lines. Luckily they gave us hints in several articles by letting us know that the series is about “the inner side of idols who shine on stage”. Okay, cool! So is it about struggles with fame? Like a glimpse behind the mask? Let’s look at the videos! Hm… Not much about idol life here actually… They’re all just.. queer? How curious. Almost as if they want to highlight the queerness so many idols or celebrities have to hide?

So OnlyOneOf, a group whose behaviours and sexualities are constantly being dissected and who is famous for telling and highlighting genuine queer stories, even connecting those stories to what idols have to hide, choose a drama that is about queer idols who have to navigate their queerness in an industry that demands “fake queerness” but has no room for real queer people. This doesn’t actually seem that surprising to me. Does it to you?

Last comments:

I don’t think that BUB is a critical masterpiece tastefully portraying the harsh reality of queer celebrities. I think that the producers and writers did not do a good job and that OnlyOneOf’s own work is a lot better. But I can absolutely see how this story fits into the larger picture and why this could be appealing to them. I don’t know if they even had any say in doing the drama to begin with. But I just wanted to provide a different point of view. Maybe someone found this interesting at least <3

#onlyoneof #bump up business

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prismaticfaery · 1 year

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Platonic!TF141 x Fem!Reader

***Just to be clear, an anon requested this same scenario with another writer and we are both aware! Please understand that if you request the same thing with different people, this can cause issues (people may claim plagiarism, etc).***

Summary: You’re Makarov’s daughter, your team doesn’t know, but Ghost is onto it.

TW: Mentions of mental and verbal abuse, pushing, and yelling, but nothing graphic.

Rating: Mature, just to be safe!

A/N: I absolutely appreciate that you love my writing! It makes me so happy! Also, if anyone has anymore requests, check out the pinned post on my blog!

Months. Months, it had taken you to track down the whereabouts of Vladimir Makarov. He had gone from one hiding place to another quickly, leaving no trail of his next location known, until you had narrowed down on it with one piece of intel you would have never thought of before: the place you were born. He was at the old apartment he and your mother had made a home. Vladimir Makarov was the father you knew of but never had the “pleasure” of knowing. Your mother had escaped Russia in hopes of keeping you safe, but he knew where you were. Always.

Your mother and father met and had you within a year of being together, and though your mother tried her best to keep her family together, your father’s views we’re no longer matching her own anymore. He had violent tendencies and many outbursts, going on long rants about restoring Russia to its previous “glory”, your mother never stuck around for them to turn into something more than yelling, pushing, verbal, and mental attacks. She needed to protect you— just a tiny infant at the time. He hardly held you or helped your mother care for you, your mother saying that it was better being an actual single mother than being a single mother in a relationship. Now here you were two and some change decades later, CIA, and in Task Force 141 trying to bring your father down. Your mother vehemently advised against doing anything that would put you in your father’s warpath but it made you want to do it even more.

“We’ve got Makarov in custody, prepare a room. I have questions,” your earpiece crackles with Price’s voice.

“Roger,” you reply, pressing the button to your comms device attached to your shirt.

Holding a large breath of air in your chest, you could feel the anxiousness bubble over. Letting it out in a large sigh, your now shaking hands folded your laptop back up. To say that fear was not the number one emotion overwhelming your mind and body would be a lie. You were fucking terrified knowing that you were now coming face-to-face with the man who helped in giving you life. Your mother tried her hardest to keep him away, and although you were aware of him, and he of you, you did your best to always make yourself a small blip on his radar.

The safehouse was on the outskirts of Moscow, so you knew that Price’s arrival would be quick. You were quick to hide any personal belongings you had brought with you on your deployment as to not bring any attention to yourself in case something went awry. You begin to make your way to the room that was not occupied in the house, dragging the table and chair from the kitchen and setting them up in the middle of the room. The room had windows, so you quickly opened them up and slammed the shutters. Once the windows were shut, you locked them and gave them a once over, making sure the locking mechanisms were secure.

“We’re entering the safehouse,” you hear through your comms.

You quickly gather yourself, shaking out your hands and clenching your fists. The door slams open and your father is the first person your eyes are set on. The blue and green eyes of Makarov are slitted, the dark eyebrows knitted together in anger and frustration as his wrists are bound behind his back with thick zip ties. Ghost and Price were on either side of him, their hands wrapped around his biceps and triceps, guiding him through the house to where your position was at the door of the makeshift interrogation room.

Gaz and Soap followed suit, making sure that you went into the room before they closed and secured the door, the two of them standing on the sides of the doorframe. Slamming Makarov down into the singular chair on one side of the table, Price and Ghost then made their way to the other seats across from him.

“Now tell me, hm, what were those crates holding? You can answer truthfully or lie, either way, we’re going to find out,” Price’s gravelly voice was quiet– venomous.

“You see, I had a nice place that those crates were going to, and now they won't make it to their destination,” Makarov jested, his head tilting to the side, a sadistic smirk playing at one corner of his mouth.

“Cut the bullshit,” Price’s voice cracks as his voice raises, his hand slamming onto the table’s surface.

“Why do you have American ballistics?” Soap interjects, moving closer, “who gave them to you?”

You watched as Price’s patience wore thin as he adjusted himself in his seat, his elbows planted on the table, fingers intertwining, “you thought that ballistics being delivered to every large city in Europe would be a good idea– like we wouldn’t be right on your fucking heels finding them? Now we found another set of crates with multiple destinations, where are they going and what’s in them?”

The room fell silent as you made your way to the table, sitting down in the empty chair right in the middle of Price and Ghost, “you seem to think that this is a laughing matter, I wouldn’t be smiling if I were you,” you’re pissed now, anger heating up your cheeks, causing them to turn a shade of pink.

“The wonders of encryption– good luck accessing any of the files on where these crates are being shipped,” Makarov’s eyes meet yours, and you immediately look away, fearing that he’s had far too long of a look at you.

“I can figure it out in minutes,” you cross your arms.

Makarov made an audible noise in the back of his throat. He knew exactly who you were and all he needed to see were your eyes. You had inherited the same heterochromia iridum trait that he had, and there was no doubt that he had just seen the same green and blue eye as he did. He had connections and knew you had grown up well, even became CIA to stop all of the bad people who worked in the shadows, and that included him.

Throwing one ankle over your leg, you rest it on your knee, sitting back in your chair, and it just so happened that Makarov had done the same exact thing at that same exact moment. Rolling your ankle so that your foot makes circular motions, you did it as your way of calming down, Makarov also doing the same.

Ghost looks at the both of you, noticing the same movements, the same positions, and body language. It seemed like copying at first, but deep down you knew it wasn’t, and you hoped Ghost didn’t notice. Your mother always told you how much you and your father were alike.

“What are you playing about?” Ghost spoke up, nodding to Makarov’s movements.

“Just getting comfortable,” Makarov’s ankle rolled in fluid motions as he shrugged his shoulders.

Your eyes narrow, and Makarov notices, his eyes fixated on your matching positions, “your eyes are lovely,” he gestures with a nod.

“замолчи (shut up)” you snap.

Price places a hand down on your shoulder, giving a squeeze as his way of telling you that he can handle matters himself. You silently nod, looking over at Ghost, his hazel eyes meeting yours. You could see his eyes narrow as he kept his gaze glued to yours, his expression hidden behind his balaclava and skull mask. He then looked at Makarov, who shared the same abnormal eyes as you.

“Not often you see different colored eyes, and here you are with matching eyes,” Ghost’s awareness was always top notch, and you knew a dark past loomed behind why he was like that– it wasn’t the usual awareness that came with being Special Operations. “Why did you comment on her eyes?”

“Ghost, what are you talking about?” Gaz was now behind your spot in the chair.

“Yeah, I’m not following, L.t.,” Soap crossed his arms.

“You were born in Russia,” Ghost’s voice was now raised, “look at their fucking eyes, look a their features, the way they’re sitting, it’s fucking uncanny. Are you related?”

“Stop,” you say quietly, almost whispering.

“Would make sense a traitor is amongst us in the Task Force, you knew his exact whereabouts and he allowed us to take him into custody without a fight,” Ghost was now angry– seething that he allowed his guard to be let down for a moment when a newcomer from the CIA came into the Task Force to help find Makarov.

Your father had a sinister smile on his face as he watched every safe wall surrounding you crumble, your entire team becoming so distrusting of you suddenly. Every eye was on you, burning holes. Makarov knew how you were from the moment he saw you but with your eyes being exactly like his, and Ghost being the way that he was, he kept silent and patiently waited for your cover to be blown.

“None of that is true-,” you began, whipping your head to look at your teammates.

“Take her out of here,” Price stands quickly, his hands placed on the table as his head hangs.

Price was going to let Laswell have it for not doing a more thorough background check on you. How could he have let this happen? Everything could be compromised now.

“No wait-!” You scream as Gaz and Soap grab your arms harshly, pulling you up from your chair.

“It was wonderful seeing you again after so long, дочь (Daughter),” Makarov grins, watching as your teammates drag you out of the room.

Soap and Gaz keep watchful eyes on you in silence, both of them planted on a couch while you sat across from them on a loveseat. It had gotten really awkward, really quickly. No one knew what to say. It wasn’t long until Price and Ghost made their ways out of the room, closing the door behind them.

“We have the right mind to lock you in there with him until we have exfil and leave the CIA to deal with you,” Price was right in front of your position on the loveseat, his gloved finger inches from your face. “Who is he to you?”

“He’s my father. I’ve never met him, but I know who he is and what he’s done. My mother made sure of that,” you’re playing with your fingers now, digging any tiny specks of dirt from underneath your nails to keep you from having to look anyone in the eye.

“It seems strange that you knew his exact whereabouts,” Ghost was still unconvinced, his eyes peering over at Price.

“It just made sense and I just so happened to have been correct. You don’t have to trust me, but just know that I did this for the Task Force.”

“When you’re the daughter of an Ultranationalist, I think this information is a need-to-know regardless of your standing with him,” Gaz made a point, his voice calm and his demeanor collected.

“I’m sorry, I should have told you all before. The CIA made sure to keep this secret for the sake of safety. My father is a dangerous person after all. He could come for me and go after anyone who’s affiliated with me.”

Soap kept quiet, listening to every single morsel of the conversation. In fact, this was the most silent he had ever been in your presence, he was normally the one throwing around words.

“The CIA will be questioning you, it’s purely protocol. Be prepared,” Ghost takes his leave— he was completely unreadable.

“I understand.”

“Get ready for exfil, we’re leaving in ten,” Price places his finger on his comms device, listening to the pilots landing instructions.

Price had no other words, he was completely lost. For months, he had trusted you. Allowed you to stay on base with the Task Force. Your eyes had seen countless files of confidential information and even though Laswell trusted you, it meant absolutely nothing if you played your part in any of Makarov’s plans without so much as a bat of an eyelash in your direction. For all they knew, you could be an espionage spy for the Russians.

“I’ll prove to you all that I’m one of you. I want to see my father burn.”

#call of duty mw2 #call of duty mwii #call of duty imagine #call of duty modern warfare #call of duty #simon ghost riley #captain john price #john price #kyle gaz garrick #johnny soap mactavish #vladimir makarov

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