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pleasantanathema · 3 years

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Reiner Braun | Instinctual Invitations

Pairing: Reiner Braun x Fem!Reader

Rating: Explicit (18+ Only)

Warnings: ABO Dynamics (Alpha Reiner x Omega Reader), Breeding, Marking, Mating, Knotting, Heats, Ruts, Frenemies to Lovers

Word Count: 5k

A/N: Part of my Nine Muses Event to celebrate 9k! Follow the link to read other fanfics I’m writing to celebrate. This was definitely a labor of love. I’ve fallen back into my appreciation for ABO dynamics, and Reiner just screams “perfect mate” to me. 💜

No one made suppressants stronger than Hange. They never divulged just what was in their special concoction, but all you knew was that it was damn near impossible for someone to discern that you were an Omega.

You’d even fooled that naive, arrogant, hubristic Alpha partner of yours for years. There was a particular disdain you held for Reiner. You could never really name it, but all you knew was that working with the giant man made your instincts sour. He seemed so good on the outside, all prideful charm and heavy pats on the shoulders of his peers, but when the two of you worked cases alone, his charisma always had a bite to it.

Maybe it was because he could tell there was something equally off about his “Beta” partner, maybe it was because he had some pent up rage inside him he only let seep out around you. You didn’t know, you didn’t care. You were patiently waiting for him to be re-assigned to the Behavioral Science Unit like he’d requested last month, but Erwin’s dawdling with the request had you worried he wasn’t about to separate his most successful Scout partners, even if they didn’t get along.

“Is my bow tie straight?”

Reiner asked you to hold his drink while he fiddled with the offending cloth.

“Yeah.”

“You didn’t even look.”

The whiskey from his glass was expensive, sliding down smooth when you took a drink. Rei let out a very frustrated noise, so loud and huffy it had the guests of the award ceremony glancing toward him. The hotel ballroom was crowded, filled with elites from Military Police, Scouts, even the fucking Garrison. There were too many people here to watch you and Reiner stumble over the acceptance speech; there were too many people here to judge that Scouts were being awarded this time around.

“Now your fucking lipstick is all over it.”

“Oh please, it tastes like cherries, you’ll get over it.”

Both of you were nervous, flattered but timid about being given a Meritorious Achievement Award for all your fieldwork done killing and documenting titans around the outer-wilds of the city. Fighting for survival in the trees was less stressful than trying to make a good impression on the brass as you received one of the highest honors.

You took another gulp of his drink before passing it back, trying to stave off the very worrisome nerves twisting in your gut. Sweat was forming at the nape of your neck, staining your palms. You shifted uncomfortably in your heels, feet feeling heavy.

It made you feel some better that the usually proud Alpha next to you was just as worried about giving a speech in front of Dhalis Zachary. The Premier was known for being strict, for demanding that military appearance be of the highest standard in front of donors.

Reiner was still fucking with his tie, angry muscles about to rip the threads of his tuxedo.

“You look fine,” you sighed, toning back the bitterness. You moved away from the balcony railing, wrapping your fingers around the black polyester ribbon and tightening it into sitting straight under his square jaw. But for some reason, you couldn’t let go, nails gripping into the fabric.

“Are you okay? You looked scared to shit,” Reiner plucked your hands off his tie, holding a wrist in each burning hand, “I can do all the talking, you know. You can just stand there and look pretty.”

“Y-yeah, I’m fine.” You weren’t. You knew this feeling, it was old and familiar, a churning pain laced with need slowly brewing in your belly, making you sick.

But your suppressants would take care of the issue, surely it was just your nerves that were making those heats you’d forsaken start to claw at you.

You hadn’t gone through a heat cycle in three years. Hange had suggested you take time off once a year to let your body go through it’s natural process, but you’d been so damn busy that you’d neglected to do so. Besides, you never had any issues, just a few flare ups when a particularly good looking Alpha close to their rut got near you.

This time was different, though, you could feel it. This flame wasn’t going to be extinguished once it got started—you’d have to go home after the gala and curl up, stop taking the suppressants in the morning so your heat could come to life in the next few days.

God you dreaded that feeling, cunt always quivering and squeezing around nothing, sweating in a blanket nest that only carried your scent and maybe a lingering, nameless male scent from a one-night stand.

“Hey,” Rei moved his hands to rest on your shoulders, shaking you, “get your shit together. We’ll be awarded in a few hours and then we can go the fuck home. Tired of being around your bitchy ass anyways.”

His hands were too hot. They were sweaty like yours, making you feel dizzy.

“I’m gonna be sick.”

You could feel it. Reiner could smell it.

“What the fuck is wrong with y—”

He dropped the last syllable, golden eyes turning into molten amber the moment your scent hit him full force. You thought he’d take his hands off, that he’d give you some space, but those instincts to protect must have taken over because he was pulling you closer like that would help.

“You’re a Beta, you don’t go into—”

“Omega, Rei. I’m a fucking Omega and I don’t need you telling anyone about it.”

You whispered your confession, eyes going glassy as you looked around the room, saw faces turning in your direction. Most of the old men here were mated, but that didn’t mean the building brew of the heat of an unmarked Omega wouldn’t catch their attention. Your neck throbbed, scent glands betraying you and pumping beneath your skin.

You felt like clawing at Reiner’s chest, digging your fingers into the perfectly pressed designer shirt and burying your face into it to be overwhelmed by Alpha presence. You thought you could stave this off, but the nerves, this proximity to an Alpha...you needed to get the fuck out of here.

“You’re going to have to take the award for-for both of us,” oh now you were stuttering, you were losing it, Reiner’s deeply masculine scent making you feel like a puddle. You hated these instincts, hated how it made you feel weak, hated how he smelled like the most inviting bakery and familiarity and how it made you want to fall to your knees and beg for the aching hole between your legs to be stuffed.

“You can’t get home on your own, do you know how many Alphas would kill for—”

You were pulling away from him, grabbing your purse so you could scrounge for those emergency suppressants to hopefully curtail this heat.

The pills were absent, your resolve fading as you felt like crumpling into the floor and clutching your stomach. You knew people were starting to notice, noses in the air to find out where the overly sweet smell of an Omega was coming from.

“I don’t need your help.”

“Who else knows?” You didn’t like how the rumble of his voice made your skin tingle, made your panties feel too tight, wet.

“Hange, Levi, the higher ups. They know, they saw it on my app-application. Said it would be…” you were starting to lose your train of coherent thoughts.

“...best if no one knew?”

Omegas were scarce. Omegas were weak. But you’d proven yourself in your training, you were too valuable for Commander Erwin to deny your approval into the Scouts.

“Just—just tell people I got sick. That the stupid little shrimp hors d'oeuvres... f-fuck me,” you meant to say something else, something like they fucked with me, but all you could think about was how those strong hands felt on your shoulders and how they would feel so good pawing at your hips as he plowed into you to relieve your stress.

Making a beeline out of the ornate, crowded ballroom, you had to excuse yourself as you bumped into a few backs and sides, stumbling over your feet as the clawing need in your stomach made you lose focus. You just had to get home. Grab a cab. Hope it’s not an Alpha driving, just get home to your nesting pillows and bury your fingers into your—

Reiner was calling your name. If he was your Alpha you’d be stopping in your tracks to listen to his commands, but he wasn’t. He was your terrible, annoying...strong, capable, definitely had a fat cock…

You didn’t know what you were thinking about when he finally caught up to you, pushing you outside the front doors. You wished it was winter, but it was a hot summer night, which just made the heat in your body worse, made your scent heavier, floating on the humidity. And there were people around, lobby boys taking in bags and tired families dragging their feet inside. Still the fresh air felt good, or at least it did, until Reiner invaded it with his scent again.

“I’ll get you home,” he placed his hand on your lower back, palm touching bare, tender skin from the low cut of your dress, and you came undone. You pressed yourself into his thick chest, wrapping your arms around him and fisting them into the back of his shirt. You could hear him grunt at the contact, the two of you never the type of partners to go beyond a pat on the back or a punch to the arm.

“N-not gonna make it home…”

“Fucking shit I always knew there was something different about you.”

He was dragging you back into the hotel, firm hand around your wrist.

“I can’t help how I was born.”

“Yeah but you could have fucking told me.”

You quit your bickering as Reiner paid for a hotel room, you pressed to his side and trying to mask the scent of ripe, ready to fuck Omega underneath simmering Alpha. You snatched the key card on the counter from a very concerned concierge, listening but not really as she explained there were special rates for those in heat.

“I didn’t want you to know.”

People were staring now, the smell of Omega becoming so heavy it even bothered you. Rei tucked his arm around your waist, leading you toward the elevators. There was a sour, thirsty taste in your mouth as you listened to your heels clink upon the marbled floor. The scent of arousal was on him, but it wasn’t his fault, just his biology reacting to yours.

You straightened your shoulders as you saddled up next to him in the elevator, watching the doors slowly close.

“Reiner—”

“Shut up.”

He was on you in an instant, heavy body pressing you into the mirrored wall.

“I should have known,” his voice was low, like he was divulging a secret, “a little Omega under my nose all long.”

You gasped as one of his hands skimmed up your thigh, thumb swirling circles upon your skin.

“D-don’t do this here, I can’t—” you couldn’t take it, you were putty in his hands, already looping a leg around his thigh and fussing with the buttons on his shirt. You needed to feel his skin, needed to drown in the scent of an Alpha.

You were half way through peeling his shirt off his pectorals, that goddamn bowtie still in place, when your throat began to hurt. Reiner actually laughed at you when you paused your hasty undressing, having to cradle the left side of your neck as your scent glands throbbed, begging for teeth to be sunk into the sensitive skin to be marked, claimed.

“Don’t you dare think about m-marking me,” god you wouldn’t be able to stop stuttering until you were stuffed with something, until you were able to chase away the aches before they returned again in a few hours.

“But isn’t that what little Omegas want?” He was toying with you, grin so cocky you felt like sinking your thumbs into his smile and hurting him. His fingers were under your dress, dangerously close to your aching sex. His hand was so hot against your skin, so calloused and strong. You felt like Icarus, like you were flying too close to the sun. The pad of his index finger curled against your panties and you could have sworn you were already burning.

You lifted your lips to catch his, only to have him turn his cheek as the elevator chimed, signaling your arrival to your floor.

You followed in his steps, tracing your dress hem from where his giant palm had touched it, your fingers moving it even higher to try to alleviate the warmth stemming from between your legs. The keycard was heavy in your hand, like it was about to open a door to something wicked.

“I-I can take care of this myself,” your placed your back against the door to your room, “and I’ll pay you back for the fees, just let me—”

“Just let you what? Go fuck yourself in misery for the next five days?”

God he looked so tempting, so big. He towered over you, scents of sex and earth and spice, like black cardamum and the bitter burn of peppers. You wanted to sink your fingers into his blonde hair and pull, pull him down to you, into you.

But you reminded yourself you’d be patiently waiting for him to leave your life. Mating with him could have him sticking around, could have the two of you fucking up and getting attached.

“Y-you have to accept the award,” you were literally slipping into the floor, gut twisting so badly that it felt like you were being ripped apart, your heat bursting into full bloom after his teasing touches. Reiner caught your upper arms to keep you up, making you whimper, and you knew the last thing you wanted was to be alone, even if it meant ruining yourself on Reiner’s cock.

“Your scent has made me harder than I’ve ever been in my fucking life. I paid for the room because I’m staying in it, sweetheart.”

He took the card from your weak fingers and shoved it into the reader, a big, heavy palm pressing against your stomach and pushing you into the open doorway. He kept his fingers on you, twisting his knuckles into the fabric of your dress.

“Rei, don’t—”

“I’m so fucking tired of playing games with you.”

The threads snapped with a twist of his wrist, the delicate front of your dress parting as the heavy hotel door slammed shut. His hands were rough, quick, tearing and pawing at your dress, your bra, and all you could do was moan and kick your heels off to be forgotten on the floor.

He pulled his crisp black jack off his shoulders, tossing it onto a desk chair, trousers and everything underneath following.

“I-I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.” You were already on him, pressing your naked chest to his and standing on your toes so you could bury your face into his neck. You couldn’t help but to purr, that soothing musk of Alpha encompassing all your senses. Fingers sunk into his body, your tongue hot against his skin as you laid kitten licks to his throat.

“No wonder I can’t stand you,” Reiner’s hands were gliding down your back, admiring smooth, willing flesh, “why you make me fucking crazy.”

“Please shut up and fuck me.”

His tempting hands found your neck, thumb petting at the sore, pounding spot on your throat. It only made your scent stronger, made you keen and practically fall into him.

“Kiss me first, like you mean it.”

You didn’t have to be told twice.

Any fight you had left dissipated when his tongue slipped into your mouth, hands still encased around your neck and keeping you pliant for him to taste. Your nails sunk into his shoulders, toes hurting from strain as you pushed your mouth up into his. God he tasted so good, like the first taste of food after starving, and your body had been starving for years. Unknotted, unmarked, your body was screaming for him, looking for an Alpha to fill you in ways that your measly attempts over the years never could.

Violence was on the tip of his tongue, you could taste it, feel it in the way he started to squeeze the delicate column of your throat. Rut was kicking in, the overwhelming pheromones of Omega making his body respond, ready to knot, ready to devour.

Slick was pouring down your thighs as you kissed him, body overly ready for him. Your stomach was twisting in coils, so painful that it made you gasp and pull away from his kiss, ready to fall into the floor if his hands didn’t keep you on your feet.

“H-hurts, so, so bad,” you whined, trying to focus your breathing.

Reiner started slowly moving you back toward the bed, thumbs now petting at the apples of your cheeks as tears started to form in your lower lashes.

“Shh, shh, it’s okay, Alpha will take care of you.”

Normally, the thought of Rei referring to himself as Alpha would repulse you, make you gag at how arrogant he was, but in this moment it made you so weak, made you moan as he crawled over your body on the bed. You were so little under him, dwarfed by brawn, small prey begging to be snatched and taken.

His title was on the front of your mouth, ready to fall out, for you to call him what he was to you, but the sliver of sense you had left kept it at bay. You knew calling him Alpha could put you in a heat induced headspace you might not be able to come out of, might have you making lusty, hasty decisions that you’d regret once this god forsaken heat was over.

“Rei-ner,” it was forced, he could tell, the syllables stuck to your tongue.

He nuzzled into your neck, purring as he fell into the intoxication of your scent glands. Hands raked over your body, each touch jolting you like electricity, the webs of nerves under your skin coming alive as he toyed with you. Your legs spread instinctively to make room for his hips, but he kept his weight off of you, propping himself on his elbows.

“So fucking perfect,” he mused, thumb trailing along your swollen lips, smearing the lipstick he’d complained about earlier, “should’ve told me sooner. I would’ve fucked you through every heat.”

His words made you coo, made your fingers weave into his blonde hair and pull him down for another kiss. You couldn’t get enough of his taste, whiskey and fire and something sickenly sweet, like pure honey over powdered sugar. Reiner was still holding back, you could practically feel growls stuck in his chest when your hands eagerly wandered over his plush pectorals.

So big. He’d be such a good protector. Such a good mate.

“Need you, need you, Rei, p-please,” you shifted your hips as you spoke, ready to flip onto your stomach so he could take you from behind. It’s how you got through all the heats you ever had before; face down in pillows, letting some Alpha fuck you senseless like nature intended. But his hands stilled you, pinned you down below him.

“Wanna watch your face as I take what’s mine.”

The tips of your ears felt scorched from his words and the blood in your body flushed under your skin.

His. You wanted to be his, fuck, you wanted your Alpha, needed him, need him to knot you and—

“Take me, f-fuck, I hurt so bad,” you were crying again, the pain in your womb like a knife sawing through flesh, twisting and turning.

“Gonna take such good care of you.”

And you knew he would. That’s the way Reiner was. A protector. A provider. Arrogant to mask the sweetness, prideful to hide the humility.

Big hands cupped your cheeks as his cockhead brushed through your folds, sending your neck flying back as you screamed just from the relief of feeling him spread your overheated slick.

“Gonna fill you to the brim with my cum.”

That broke you. Your last little grip on your sanity was remembering that Hange’s suppressants didn’t mix well with birth control. You hadn’t been on the pill for years, and with how strong this heat was, how repressed your body had felt, you were probably more fertile than you’d ever been.

“Fuck,” your hands found his face, and when he looked at you, you sailed away in the gold currents of his gaze, “breed me.”

His massive cock started to sink into your tight hole, the copious amounts of slick gushing from inside of you making his penetration easier. But even still, he was so engorged with blood and hormones ready to knot that his fat cock struggled to breach that first tight ring of muscle. You hissed, not from pain, but from relief, so ready to be full that no amount of stretching would detract from your pleasure.

Heavy hands were on your hips, pulling you down to take all of him in. He was finally growling, your walls constricting around him and making him go absolutely mad.

“Gonna breed you, Omega, give you my babies, f-fuck yes, have you dripping with cum.”

The blinding pleasure was almost devastating, making you feel numb, making you feel like this was all you ever needed in the whole goddamn world—all you needed was Reiner’s cock to bring you rapture, to have you ascending to the holy planes that zealots coveted.

“Move,” it was a quick plea, your legs curling around his waist in encouragement, “please, please fuck me, breed me.”

He started a slow pace, but was enough to have you spiraling, eyes fluttering shut as you got lost in him. One of his hands swatted at your cheek, just enough to sting.

“Eyes open. Watch me, be with me.”

You tried your best to obey, but the drumming of his cock in your cunt had you seeing dark spots even as your eyes opened again. Reiner kept his hand on your face, locking it around your jaw so you watched him as he fucked you, his beautiful, defined cheekbones tinted pink as he became overwhelmed with his rut.

How many times had you looked at him before? How many days had you spent working alongside him, doing your best to avoid looking at him? He got under your skin, made you feel weak. Maybe this was why, maybe you were repressing just how much you wanted him. Maybe he was meant to be your—

“Alpha,” you breathed it out, let it fan over his ears, let it sink into his psyche.

The word felt like a relief, like a sin. That attachment you feared was already caging you in.

His pace kicked up to something brutal as you acknowledged not just his biology, but his title to you.

You screamed so loudly that it hurt, had your throat burning as your moans bled into whines and mewls as he took from your willing cunt.

A cacophony of sex filled the hotel room, the sound of primal grunts, shrill little screams, of flesh against flesh, balls slapping against your ass, his cock ramming into your squelching, drooling pussy.

“That’s right, fuck, you’re mine, Omega. Mine.” He repeated the last word a few more times as he bent your legs farther back, straddling your thighs with his muscular legs as he folded you into a mating press. His cock began to stroke that sweet, spongy spot inside of you at the new angle, drilling into you at just the right curve to have you cumming before your body could even enjoy the build up.

You shattered, cunt clenching and as you were so pleased to orgasm around a thick Alpha cock. You were babbling nonsense, even thanking him for letting you cum. Just a string of pleas and AlphaAlphaAlpha pouring off your tongue and melting into his sweaty skin.

Your orgasm had your scent fresh in the room, had your neck fucking pounding with the need to be bitten, to be claimed.

Reiner could smell it, could smell your insatiable need, instincts picking up on words you just couldn’t say.

“Let me have you,” he demanded it between kisses to your shoulder, lips trailing up and stopping at the saccharine reek of your scent glands just below your jaw.

He wouldn’t claim you without permission, he wasn’t that kind of man, wasn’t that kind of Alpha.

You fell into a symphony of moans, neck tilting back in instinctual insinuation, but mouth still unwilling to make that plea. But then his scent overwhelmed you again, like spicy hot peppers and the sweetest sugar flooding over your body. You knew that scent by heart, had smelled it in smaller increments every day for years, had tried to ignore it, but now you couldn’t.

His cock was swelling inside of you, his ruthless pace and your lingering orgasm edging him closer to release. The hand on your hip had bruised your skin, perfect indent of his palm, his long fingers, etched into your skin. The other was pulling at your neck, pushing your face to the side as he skimmed the bridge of nose along your skin, waiting, wanting.

“Omega,” he purred, calling you, begging you, “please, yours, mine.”

He was losing his thoughts too, drowning in instincts and euphoria.

Your fingers laced in his hair, pulling his mouth closer to what he wanted.

“Yours, Alpha, f-fuck,” your acceptance was loud and clear, even through the fog and sounds of sex. One bite was all it took, teeth barely sinking into your skin. You cried from how good it felt, that ache finally silenced as his tongue lapped over that patch on your neck that could now only belong to him.

A bond was tightening, something scientists still couldn’t fully explain—being marked, claimed, it tethered you to someone beyond all comprehension. It was like making a deal with a devil, selling your soul, and for you, it was an admittance to attraction and acceptance of intimacy that you felt with Reiner.

The act of marking had his cock swelling inside you, knotting you and spilling his seed into your depths to stay. That overbearing fullness had you tumbling over the orgasmic mountain again, had you clinging and screaming, colors you’d never fucking seen before bursting in the corners of your eyes and traveling over your body like fireworks. You shivered in his arms, quaked, fell apart, and he held you. Purring, comforting, like he’d finally brought you home.

Time didn’t seem to exist, lines between pleasure and pain so blurred that you couldn’t even feel the burn in your legs from being spread open for so long. You stayed in that mating press for what felt like hours. Reiner kept kissing at your neck, letting his scent blend in with yours.

You’d never smell the same again. You’d always be tainted with him, carry bits of his scent with you forever. The thought didn’t even bother you, just brought you comfort, made you purr as your fingers lazily threaded through his hair.

Finally, his cock became soft enough for him to pull out of you, lines of cum dripping from your abused pussy as he fell on his back next to you.

The love hormones kicked in, had you curling around him even as you stretched out weary muscles. You were ready to sleep, ready to rest until the next wave of your heat came in a few hours and had you pleading for him again.

But a pesky thought plagued your mind, a jealous one, one you’d never had about another Alpha before.

How many other Omegas had wanted what was yours? How many of them had Reiner denied a claim to before you?

“Why me?” you murmured into his heaving chest, fingertips drawing aimless circles in his downy chest hair.

“Could ask you the same thing.”

You sat up to look at him, to let him cup your cheek as his eyes flickered over your face.

“How many Alphas have wanted you?”

There was solace in knowing he had the same questions.

“Haven’t had a heat since I met you.”

Concern flashed across his face, that intensity you were used to seeing in his brow coming to life.

“You won’t do that again.”

His command made you feel warm, had your belly already pulling and churning and wanting again.

“I won’t. Because even though you’re a shitty partner, you’re my mate.”

That realization swept over him hard and fast, a range of emotions painting his features before he settled on a smile.

His thumb petted your skin, bringing you in for a kiss.

“You’re the only award I needed tonight.”

#reiner braun #reiner x reader #reiner braun x reader #abo #reiner smut #aot #snk #snk reiner #aot reiner #attack on titan #aot fanfic #snk fanfic #attack on titan fanfiction #reiner x you #reiner braun x you

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tartagilicious · 3 years

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what they would do if they caught you crying ❄️ // xiao, kazuha, + diluc (established relationships version <3) cw: injuries

XIAO:

- all of the time, i see people frame xiao as this emotionally clueless person, but personally, i just don’t think that stereotype is true — even with his habit of being alone, he reads people. he has life experience. you might be a little more in trouble if you ask him for something like comfort, but, not understanding.

- of course, his brooding appearance doesn’t really elude to this at all. so, it’s understandable as to why you avoid him when you come back to wangshu inn one day, beaten and bruised beyond even your normal level

- you think it’ll only lead to an awkward conversation, when in reality, xiao can actually be quite helpful! i can see him being a ‘listen and help’ now and ‘ask questions’ later kind of person. it tends to be adorable to see how concerned he can actually get over you.

- tears are another question altogether, too. definitely something that deserves his attention, even if you try convincing him you’re alright.

-----

you let out a resigned pant as you shut the door behind you, at last back in your room at wangshu inn once again. or, at the very least, you hope it’s your room — your vision had gone blurry around halfway your trek up the stairs.

unsteady legs take you to the bathroom. you’re relieved to recognise the throwaway products you bring with you on your travels sitting on the sink. in your haze, you knock the foremost bottles to the floor as you stagger to open the cabinet below it, yet when you reach down for the first aid kid, you find yourself stuck.

something inside you breaks at that moment — whether exhaustion or pain had pushed you, there is a single moment wherein you feel nothing but every imperfection on your body. every cut stings, ever bruise tingles, each scrape and sore bone screams to you at once, calling tears to your eyes.

in the back corner of your mind, you think to imagine yourself: half bent in front of the counter, the arm that isn’t supporting you weak at your side. and, of course, the fat tears that run from your red-rimmed eyes, landing amongst the threads of the mat beneath your feet.

somewhere nearby, you hear hinges creak open. an alarmed whisper reaches you ear as someone helps you to the ground, moving your hair from your eyes. there’s a moment of tangible silence that passes between you as your gazes lock. his expression is unreadable as gentle fingers ghost over the bruise on your temple, each bloody imperfection blanketed under his concerned golden eyes.

the world swims around you, extremely unwelcoming in the way it envelops your body in sludge. regardless, you find yourself saying his name. mumbling it, you grasp his arm.

“xiao.” a pained breath leaves your lips as you shut your eyes. “it hurts."

your lips twist as another sob is torn from your throat.

he shushes you gently, a gloved finger coming up to catch the tears that fall over your cheeks. the words that leave his mouth are slightly stiff, as if being read from a script, but the worry in his voice is incessant. it drips into you from every word he speaks, in each kiss that is placed wantonly on your skin.

in every tear he wipes away, there is a silent promise to catch the next one, and the one after that, until he can finally help your pain to subside. he wants nothing more than to see you drifting off to sleep, each wound covered and treated. and no matter how long that takes, he will always be there to wipe your tears.

-----

KAZUHA:

- he himself is vulnerable to his own emotions, what with being subjected to nature, but also the contents of his past. he’s average in that regard — but, i imagine kazuha as being pretty empathetic.

- he knows how to comfort you and does so effortlessly, even if he may be panicking inside. of course, he hates seeing you cry, it’s only expectable for him to know how to comfort you, even if he may not know exactly what’s wrong

- we all have those days. he understands that. so, when you try to hide your sadness from him he will not ever berate you for it, nor will he take it personally. he will only make sure he’s there to help you through it.

-----

you know you’ve spent too much time away when you hear a knock on the bathroom door — three lone taps at the wood, kazuha’s silent and heartfelt signal to you. for a moment, you think to pretend you aren’t there, but he’d seen you enter. there’s no escaping it.

it may be a futile action, but you stand to see your reflection in the mirror anyway. with your eyes slightly swollen and cheeks still damp, all you can do is wipe any tears away and pray that kazuha chooses not to say anything.

slowly, you creak the door open, popping your head out from the crack.

“are you alright in th—“ he pauses. kazuha’s eyes take in your face with more ardor than usual, laced with a familiar unease that sinks to the pit of your stomach. of course, there’s no fooling him.

he puts a hand on the door, as if to gently manoeuvre his way into the bathroom with you — but instead, it rests next to yours, patient as he asks,

“did something happen?"

kazuha’s voice is a perfect melody, composed of the softest winds and crafted from the anemo archon's most beloved songs. it’s that same voice that reaches out to you in this moment, patiently beckoning for something greater than pain, something more atuned to the romantics he pursues. simply, he seeks to be the reason your sadness ceases.

“no, no—“ you try assuring him, a quick laugh leaving your mouth. but, even you are aware of the way you avoid his eyes. “nothing’s happening, it’s alright."

his gaze narrow slightly.

“come on.” kazuha’s hand slides down to take yours, and together, you back into the bathroom. the weight of his hand in yours is far from unfamiliar, but as he shuts the door once again, you have the sudden urge to pull away.

kazuha is not someone you are uncomfortable with, but the level of intimacy between the two of you has nothing to do with wanting to hide your weakest moments. for the first few minutes, you perceive the situation awkwardly. you don’t know quite where to look or what to say, even as tears begin to fill your eyes again.

“please,” he at last whispers to you, head bent down slightly to reach you at eye level. “tell me the reason for your tears."

your lips morph into a gradual frown before you meet his gaze.

damn him. i couldn't refuse.

you throw your arms around his neck, a quiet whine escaping your mouth as he catches you dutifully. kazuha’s hands are warm on your back as he holds you with care, handling you not as something that is broken, but something he’d do anything to keep together.

-----

DILUC:

- sputtering, awkward, foolish — these words can all be used to describe diluc when he’s crushing on someone. you’re definitely not exempted from that either lolol

- his care for you is obvious in the way his cheeks flush when kaeya teases him about you, or the look he gets in his eye when you’re talking to him about something you love. the ways he loves are also ever-present in the way he comforts you.

- he may not look it, but he treats emotions well. in even your most extreme cases, your sadness is his own

-----

he is the first to notice when you dip into the back of angel’s share, giving your blessings to one of your regular patrons with more speed than usual. while the hour does chime high, you normally work alongside him until the last customer leaves the building. your unfaltering persona can be excused with a bad day. but, to just take off so suddenly, it strikes him in the wrong way.

diluc's distress may very well be visible in the way customers began to limit their interactions with him, but he doesn’t mind. if anything, it gives his mind time to wander to you. at first, he resolves to wait for your return, but that hopeful process is crushed when ten minutes pass and you remain missing.

his eyes wander down the bar, briefly going over each of the faces seated. either tipsy or engrossed in conversation, diluc takes the opportunity to nudge charles — a silent warning as he goes off after you.

for a moment as he walks, he thinks of the concern that weighs heavy in his chest. the same concern had always previously been reserved for things such as his business, or the safety of mondstadt. but to feel the same emotion because of another is a completely different sensation. it’s in his nose, in the way he can’t quite figure out where to place his arms as he moves. it’s stifling in the way that nothing else can be, like breathing in hot air on a summer day.

when he reaches you, he opens the door carefully as not to disturb you. a distinct shyness bubbles in his chest at the thought of catching you doing something you shouldn’t be, but when he opens the door, all he sees is you standing there.

your back is to him, body completely still all for the slight way your shoulders shake.

he calls out your name.

you startle easily, arms suddenly moving up to cover your face. diluc’s stomach drops as he approaches you, stopping next to you in front of the counter you lean into. no words are exchanged for a few moments as you continue to cry despite your hands, tears slipping out from beneath your gentle touch and onto the wood below.

diluc places a heavy hand atop your head.

in reality, there’s just not that much more he will allow himself to do — he doesn’t trust himself to say the right thing, or to be the person you need to pull you back from the darkness. there are too many things hat must be plaguing you in this moment for such a thing to happen, and his chest constricts at the thought. in some way, you must be stumbling on your last legs, painfully aware of every nerve and tiny cut on your body; that much is evident in even just the slight shake of your shoulders.

but unbeknownst to him, every instant he stands by you is time you have to heal. over time, you begin to recognise the feel of the cold air biting at your skin, and the contrast of his warm hand over your head. there is nothing you need him to say, nothing you need him to do, he himself is all you will ever need.

#i feel like my writing is so cheesy lately LMAO #anyways kazuha pls i can cook and clean #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact imagines #genshin impact xiao #gi xiao #genshin impact kazuha #gi kazuha #genshin impact diluc #gi diluc

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venusguks · 3 years

Text

— saccharine boy

pairing : reader x jeon jungkook

summary : the new transfer student is a bit strange…

genre : yandere jk, future smut, angst, dark, obsessive/possessive jk

warnings : this includes DARK themes with heavy topics. i dont support this unhealthy relationship dynamic irl. a huge TW for suicide, suicidal thoughts, tendencies, coaxing, themes. this is pure fiction so please know that if you’re struggling with suicidal thoughts, this may be really really horrible to read :(( yn and jk both say shitty things

part 1 of ??

☽

i loved you before i even knew you

in days fleeting moments, the sun dipped into the ocean, casting a surge of honey waves to engulf the city whole.

it’s vast, golden essence poured through the mid-open windows and into the empty school hallways.

moments before, the laughter of the baseball team dissipated, and those who confessed to the whim of spring filtered emotions had left with tear stained cheeks.

it's empty enough that you can hear your own slip ons click against the floor.

click, click, click.

you walk up the stairs, stopping right in front of the rooftop door.

the rusted knob is cool under your skin, and bracing yourself for the wind, you twist it open.

the wind whisks past you ferociously, as if urging you to turn back. you should've heeded the warning then (how foolish of you not to), but instead, you open your eyes to the tangerine streaks of the sky.

that’s when you see him.

— ❝ hey, do you regret it? ❞

his silhouette wavered beyond the metal railings of the rooftop.

you don’t know why—what had possibly gone through your mind when you spoke. it wasn't your business—you could honestly care less for people like him,

because people like him were the same as you.

despite that, you couldn't stop yourself from screaming, "you're such an attention freak, you know that?! do you really want to be seen that much?"

his head slightly lifted.

would he listen to you? would he care?

because if it were you past that railing right now, you wouldn't stop for anyone.

but doesn’t he see?

if he jumps, right now, right in front of you,

doesn’t he know how much that would break you?

please, the wind swallows your desperation. i’m already broken enough, so please don't make it any worse.

when i muster up the courage like you someday, i need to die without the thought of you jumping in my head.

— ❝ oh, i see… you're scared of me.❞

"there are so many other ways to kill yourself. drowning, the rope—you can jump off literally any other god damned building for all i care—but don't you dare make it this building! don't you dare jump off in front of me."

you saw it, as the wind danced past him, just how lifeless his eyes were

it was as if the sun himself feared him—preferring to quickly drown into the blue abyss rather than be in his mere presence.

"i know this place is terrible—but the janitor is so kind. he's a single father of three children and if you jump, he'd have to break his back scrubbing your blood for hours. he'd come home and put on a happy face despite worrying if his children will turn out like you. so please, for the janitor's sake, deal with haunting this school a different way. your death would affect more people than you’d know, so please.”

he doesn’t move, so hesitantly, as if it would change anything, you quietly add, "ah, he gave me food one time too.”

the boy’s back quivered, and your own trembling heart ached for him—but what you thought was sniffing turned into a loud, hearty laugh

you stood there, dumbfounded as you watched him.

"you're..." he tries to say through his giggles. when he catches his breath, he finally turns to you with the biggest smile.

"you're really stupid."

— ❝ but would it help if i said i've always loved you? ❞

frozen, you can only stand there gaping at him.

"i was just watching the sunset, but your reaction was so funny. you don't know how hard it was not to laugh."

what…?

you blink once, twice—then turning your heel, you begin to walk away.

"h-hey! wait!" he called from beyond the railings. "i'm sorry, okay? i was having too much fun—i didn't mean to scare you. please forgive me."

"scare me?" you scoffed. "kill yourself for all i care. it doesn't have anything to do with me."

— ❝ since that day... ❞

you just blurted it out of spite. you knew it was cruel, you didn’t mean it. you were just so angry. how dare he make a fool out of you? make a joke out of this? in your eyes, he was far more cruel.

“fine then.”

you turn back with a vile glare, but your heart stops as he takes a step back.

the boy hums in viscous amusement when he sees the horror in your eyes. in front of the blazing red of the sun, wearing his wide smile, he resembled a demon.

"forgive me, or i'll let go."

"d-don’t be stupid," you scowl, but you could barely feel yourself breathe.

then, just like that, one of his finger tips leave the metal bar—then another, and another.

you don’t know when you started running or how you even got there, but as soon as you hooked your fingers around his collar, you gave everything to pull him back.

"are you crazy?!" you scream, hot tears trickling down your eyes.

his annoying fit of laughter only angered you more.

— ❝ i loved you before i even knew you. ❞

"like i said, forgive me—and i won't try it again," he chimed in a playful tone.

you couldn't tell if he was joking or not.

it scared you, his carelessness.

he scared you.

“okay, okay! i forgive you!” you yell exasperatedly. “god, you—you think this is funny? what the fuck is wrong with you?! you could’ve—just because i—y-you could’ve…r-right in front of me…and i-i…”

"hey, hey..." he chuckles softly, interlocking his fingers with yours through the metal fence.

you refused to look at him, but you could still feel the tingling warmth of his skin. you were close, the bars only stopping at your torso. when you look back at it, you remembered the seeping reality of his beauty.

his voice, his touch, him...

everything he did made you feel so out of control, so vulnerable.

who was he? why did you have to meet him?

"i knew you'd catch me, its fine."

"that's not the point here you suicidal bitch! i mean—what were you thinking? are you out of your mind? i swear to god—if you jumped and i became a suspect of murder, i'd dig up your own grave and kill you again!”

the boy’s eyes widened, shock dancing with his own bemusement. they were the same lifeless brown, but golden specks glimmered in where he looked at you.

finally, he smiles, “you’re horrible.”

you give a viscious glare, but before you can retort something, he continues, his hand trailing up your arm.

"but at the same time, horrible people don’t try to save a horrible person from dying. no, you can’t be horrible,” a cold shiver runs through your body when his fingers brush against your collarbone. “you’re just a sweet girl, aren’t you? an angel who saved me…”

he pulls you closer by your neck, his lips barely touching the shell of your ears. your breath hitches, and your knees suddenly feel weak.

“i’d love to ruin you.”

nothing comes out of your mouth.

all you can hear is your heart thumping against your chest. all you can feel is the unbearable heat blooming on your cheeks, and all you can see is him.

finally, his words settle in.

“get the fuck off me you creep!”

— ❝ you're never leaving me, my love. i won't let you. ❞

a/n : i’m so so so sorry if this triggered some people. this may be poorly written as well as i’ve written this YEARS ago. as you might tell, i was suicidal then and i often incorporated that in writing—its a way to get it off my chest sort of. to have relatable characters is something thats always made me comfortable. honestly rereading it again nothing makes sense LOL but i thought i’d continue it just for fun. i hope whoever has come across this is having a lovely and healing day, stay safe starlights <3

#bangtan sonyeondan #jeon jungkook #bangtan boys #bts fanfic #bts #bts jungkook #jungkook #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fluff #bangtan #jungkook smut #bts jk #jungkook fic #jungkook x reader #jungkook angst #yandere jungkook #yandere bts #bts yandere

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yesimwriting · 3 years

Text

Searing Starlight (chapter one)

SERIES SUMMARY: the most powerful inferni alive, raised to see herself as a god-in-the-making, the bastard of the barrel and his team, and a shadow summoner with a common goal. What could go wrong? The giant mass of darkness known as the shadow fold and y/n’s sense of humor.

CHAPTER SUMMARY: Y/n is sent to hustle the Crow Club. Technically it’s not cheating, but Kaz Brekker isn’t the type to let people off on technicalities alone. Especially when the one that committed the offense could help him earn 1 million kruge.

a/n just a little something based on the show bc IM OBSESSED :)) --I’m planning on making this a series so if you want to be tagged let me know :)

The candles flicker as Kenya's palm makes contact with my face. I used to cry after he hit me; I used to run to Anya’s room for comfort and my energy would became so irritated I snuffed out all the candles in the church. Now, I just stand there. You get punished worse for showing fear. Gods fear nothing, and that’s what he wants from us--to turn into Gods so that the heavens will owe him.

“You risk us again and again!”

The yelling is worse than the stinging of the slap. I make a point of keeping my palms flat; the candles of the room flicker as if feeling my restraint. “Watch yourself or the tidemaker you’re so fond of will feel my wrath instead of you. At least when I bruise his face it doesn’t cost me a night of revenue.”

I want to point out that the men I trick in the pleasure district don’t care about bruises, but the reminder of Jace has me frozen in place. Jace is good. He doesn’t deserve this treatment. “It won’t happen again, Father Kenya.”

He nods once, unsatisfied but growing bored. “Disappear from my sight before my flesh wins and I forget to show you mercy.” Kenya turns sharply, watching Anya’s stoic expression. “Anya--we’re in need of funding, take these coins and triple it by morning.”

Anya’s lips part; I shake my head once, a subtle plea for her silence. “Father Kenya, y/n’s the most talented card player we have--if she comes with us we can bring five times what you’re going to give us.”

The promise Anya makes is that of a fool, but I know I’m capable of it. People are easy to read when they’re drunk, they’re easy to trick and lie to. And drunk people exude the clearest energy, something about their bluffing is as tangible as fog to me.

Kenya squeezes the drawstring bag between his violent fingers. He loathes me more than the others. He expects more from me. He’d lock me in the cellar if he could afford to. But he can’t--he knows what I’m capable of.

“Go somewhere in the Barrel--somewhere that doesn’t ask questions if the money is good.” Kenya looks at me, the bruises on my arms and cheeks. “Clean yourself up beforehand.”

I nod once, stomach rolling at the thought of going out and knotting at the thought of staying here. I keep my steps even as I approach Anya, grateful for the excuse to disappear behind the chapel’s doors.

----

This club is louder than most, boisterous men drinking constantly, slurring their words and leaning over bars. I only smile when someone’s looking, tugging on the dress Anya picked for me subconsciously.

“Relax, y/n,” Anya hums, “Men don’t understand they’re being hustled when someone pretty is the one swindling them, and you look hot.”

A particularly drunk man walks by slowly, eyes reflecting no shame as he blatantly rakes his gaze down my form. I shift uneasily. “That might be the problem.”

She tilts her head back, gaze focusing on the crow marking etched into the back wall of the club. A very strange and consistent crow theme in here. “Maybe you should keep the dress on until you run into Jace.”

The mention of Jace in that context leaves my face warm. “Wha--what?” Great. I’m sputtering. “Shut up!”

She laughs easily, “I’m only teasing--he’d probably ta--”

“Anya!”

Again, her laugh is loud and bright. “Kidding!” Before I can scorch her, she nods her head towards a gambling table. “An open seat--go, you know Kenya’ll have our heads if we don’t multiply this,” she tosses me the drawstring bag, I catch it awkwardly, “By five.”

There are a lot of things I’ve ruined--but I never mess up when it comes to gambling. We’re all entitled to our talents and mine are destruction and trickery. “I’ll have six times this amount before midnight.”

A little cocky, but it’s well deserved. I stroll up to the table easily, comforted by the fact that Anya’s only a few feet away.

“You’re playing this round?”

I smile politely, used to this kind of hesitance. “I think I’d like to try it.” The mock-hesitance in my voice burns coming up, but the dumber I seem the faster I make up my money. The rest of the participants snicker. Expected. I’m going to enjoy taking their money. “I can pay if that’s the issue.”

The sound of me fishing through the small bag of golden coins silences the men at a table. The man closest to me, the one with smooth brown skin and a smile I imagine has convinced many people to play into sins for him, leans forward slightly. I let him peek at the coins, the more they want my money the more they’ll believe my lies.

“How much to enter?”

A tall man snorts. I fight back the urge to glare.

“Three of those coins should do.” The boy next to me is decent enough to answer. I’ll steal from him least. “I’m Jesper.”

I’ve been to enough clubs to know when a man is attempting to find company for the night. I hope the playful niceness I see in him is real. “Kamil.” My sister’s name is salt water on my tongue.

The first game is easy enough to throw. The second, I have to work at a little more--their smugness is killing me. I pretend to be ready to step away from the table.

“Where are you going?”

I shrug at the stranger. “I shouldn’t lose any more money, my father won’t be happy with me as it is.”

The stranger leans forward, glancing at his chips. “We don’t want a girl like you in trouble at home--why don’t we up the stakes? You win this next hand, and you’ll win double what I did.” He pauses, eyeing my drawstring bag, “Of course--you’ll have to be willing to risk a matching sum.”

Awful odds. “Deep odds,” Jesper mumbles, “Consider cutting your losses.”

Jesper is a better person than the other men here. I almost feel bad he’s going to be losing any money. “One more game won’t kill me,” I smile as politely as I can manage, “Besides--my luck could be about to change and I’d never know.”

I hand the coins over to the dealer. I watch as the money is shuffled onto the center of the table, suppressing the grin of someone about to release her killshot. Ten minutes later, I’ve doubled what I’ve lost. The man who upped the bet is gaping, Jesper’s expression has shifted entirely, and everyone’s staring at me like I’ve shifted into another person entirely.

“Wow--luck really does change quickly here.” I’ve hooked them. They’ll want to play again, to prove that my victory was a fluke. “Do you guys want to play again? It only seems fair I give you a chance to win back everything you just lost since you did the same for me.”

Everyone’s quick to agree, but I’m quicker to win the second round. Some men look murderous, some look ready to play again, their egos incapable of handling defeat at my hands.

“You came in with a surprising amount of coins,” Jesper muses, reaching over to pick up a piece of gold that rolled towards him, “I hate to accuse you of counterfeiting, but one has to wonder.”

Typical. “I swear my money’s real.”

“Real money can take a bullet…” Is he going to shoot it...in doors? Jesper tosses the coin easily, letting it flip in the air before taking out a pistol and shooting it dead center in a movement so casually fluid and deadly I’m taken back.

The coin clatters onto the table, the bullet embedded into the precious metal. I eye it cautiously, beyond relieved that Kenya at least doesn’t lie. “T-told you.”

His eyebrows narrow as he reholsters his pistol. “About that, I guess you did.”

Jesper’s skepticism is a red flag. I need to get out of here before my winnings are taken from me and Kenya kills me or Jace for my failure. “I didn’t take you for such a sore loser.”

Before Jesper can respond, something black raps against the table once. “What did I tell you about loud noises at the table?”

Jesper’s gaze leaves mine immediately. “Sorry boss, just checking a swindler.”

He--he knows. I blink twice, forcing surprise to color my features. “Swindler?” I look between him and the man he called his boss. “N--no, it was just--luck. I played a hand, I lost some money, I played again and I won some money. Isn’t that how it’s supposed to work?”

“You only started winning after the stakes were raised--I’ve seen that tactic before and it’s not appreciated here.”

I swallow once, a pinch of dread making its way through my stomach. He had shot that coin with no hesitation--I didn’t even see him click off the safety. How dangerous is the man at my table? How dangerous is his boss? Everyone seemed to straighten at the sight of the stranger with the cane.

“There was no tactic--it was a game.”

The man I don’t know tears his gaze away from Jesper. “Someone like you shouldn’t even be here.”

He has a point--my demeanor doesn’t exactly scream someone who frequents establishments at the Barrel during the night. “I’m only here to keep my friend out of trouble.” A fair enough response. “And I played a game and someone can’t handle a loss.”

“You should have seen her bluff, I’ve met professional thieves that lie less fluently than her.”

At Jesper’s words, the stranger’s grip around his cane tightens. I imagine that beneath his gloves, the color of marred souls, his knuckles are white. “Who do you work for? Who sent a girl to invade my business?”

Who do I work for? No one that has any business with him. “What?” How self absorbed can one man be?

“If playing the fool didn’t get you through a card game--don’t think it will get you through this.”

What? Before I can question him, Anya grabs my shoulder, pulling me so that there’s a safer distance between me and the man.

“You’re an idiot,” her whisper is pointed, directed solely at me. “Of course you’d find trouble with Dirtyhands.” Did I hear that correctly? Dirtyhands--as in the Dirtyhands? I stare at her, eyes wide. How had I been so stupid? I should have recognized him from his gloves alone. Anya turns her head towards them. “We don’t want any trouble--forgive my friend, she’s not a spy she’s just an oblivious idiot.”

“Rude.”

She throws me a glare. “But she did win.” The money isn’t worth the trouble we’ll find trying to keep it but Kenya’s words follow us wherever we go. “We’ll take what we earned and never come back.”

“I don’t concede often.”

I reach for Anya’s arm, brushing her forearm in hopes of telling her things will be okay. Kaz Brekker may be feared, but we’re gods in the making. “Neither do we.”

He seems to want to play at an odd, power-filled standstill, but Anya and I are more desperate than him. Anya leans forward, ready to take the money from the table, but the unidentified man who upped the stakes earlier is quick to grab her forearm.

“I don’t take losses, little girl.”

Anya. I can only imagine the horror she feels when a strange man touches her. Screw precaution. “Is that money worth burning for?”

“Y/n.” Anya’s warning comes out low; Jesper raises an eyebrow. I guess being Kamil was short lived.

“Excuse me?”

The man will not intimidate me. Fear is a crutch men use to keep women in check. “You heard my question.” I hold up my hand, releasing enough energy to develop a flame in my palm. “And if your answer is ‘no’, I suggest you release my friend before your body is nothing more than a pile of ash your own mother wouldn’t even be able to identify.”

The stranger blinks, touches the gun on his hip, and then releases Anya’s arm.

“You can’t come into my club, hustle money away from my men, and walk away unscathed because you’re a grisha.”

Words cannot express how badly I do not want to speak to Kaz Brekker at any point in my life. His grip on his cane is a silent warning--a threat. But what is a man’s threat to a girl that’s meant to be a god? “You can kill me but I’ll use my dying breath to burn this entire building.” I’ve publicly backed him into a corner--I’m insane.

Dirtyhands opens his mouth to reply, anyone within earshot holding on for his next words. Anya yanks me back as the sound of something explosive interrupts the room. A bullet flies past directly where I was standing and strikes the wall behind me. Anya just saved my life. Someone just shot at me.

“Y/n, do you think it’s--”

“No.” It can’t be. There’s no way a soldier found me again. “It can’t be--we were--we’ve been careful--and Kenya said they wouldn’t look for me--that he purchased me fully.”

A man is moving through the crowd. A blue kefta. No. No.

Not here. Not now.

And why are they shooting at me? “Anya,” I breathe out as cautiously as possible, “Run and no matter what don’t turn around.”

“I’m not leaving you.”

Anya. Always the older sister. “They don’t want you--they want me.”

“You’re not a real Sun Summoner--it’s suicide for you.”

I don’t have the heart to tell Anya I don’t particularly care about my life. It’s never truly been mine anyway. “I’ll make it out.”

“You’re an inferni, not a miracle worker.”

My lips pull into an odd sort of grimace. The gentle kind one hopes is mistaken for a smile. “I thought we were meant to be gods.”

“A god can’t do what they want from you.” She mumbles. “So you’re capable of producing more fire than most--it’s not the same as creating light. It doesn’t matter how many drugs they pump into you it’s--”

I shake my head once, “Anya--go.”

“They want you to play Sun Summoner.” Dirtyhand’s tone is too smooth to trust. I know when someone’s trying to sell dreams that don’t exist. “The way they’ll have you do it will cost you, but the way I’ll have you do it will be practically painless.”

Is he always this confusing? “What?”

The question is an irritation, that’s apparent in the cold tint that takes over his practically blank expression. “I need a Sun Summoner for a business deal--and lucky for you I’m out of time.”

“You don’t want to work with me.”

“No,” his voice is dismissive, he didn’t understand I meant that as a warning, “But I need to have some form of mass light before sunrise.”

“The man I’m indentured to will never go for it.” Proposing such an idea would leave me with a broken rib again.

Dirtyhands nods once, a vague acknowledgement. “That’s not your problem.” I keep my jaw set, scanning at the crowd for a flash of that blue kefta. “After all, it wasn’t his problem when he hurt you.”

I had been careful to hide the bruises. The reminders of my humanity. My weaknesses, my failures, written onto my skin in purple and blue ink. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I didn’t until I got that reaction.” I’ve never so quickly felt the need to loathe someone. “It was easy enough to assume--young girl, desperate for money, a grisha powerful enough to be hunted down.”

Is that supposed to be some sort of consolation? “My freedom would never come so easily.”

“It wouldn’t be freedom--you’d owe me more than you already do for the kruge scam.”

I swallow before I can make the mistake of telling him I’d consider any escape from Kenya freedom. “Close enough.”

The grisha’s closer now, the light blue kefta so easy to spot amongst a sea of darkness. “You’re running out of time.”

“Can you get my friend out?”

“Y/n.” She can be mad for the rest of her life if she wants.

He nods his head once. “She’ll be out the back before anyone knows she was even here.”

“And she can take the money I won.” Maybe the income will be enough to spare her from Kenya’s wrath. “That’s a dealbreaker.”

Kaz Brekker hesitates. It’s such a normal pause I almost think it’s a trap. “If she takes it there will be no way out for you--you will do what I ask even if it endangers your life.”

“Y/n, it’s not worth it.”

I don’t look at Anya. “You have my word.”

“Y/n, I’m not taking anything and I’m not leaving you.”

I finally turn. “Don’t be a self-sacrificing idiot--it’s not in your nature and frankly it doesn’t suit you.” Acts of goodness towards me have always left me feeling raw. Too raw. Like I’m bleeding out. “Sorry, I just…” Anya’s eyes are soft. She knows. She always knows. “I’ll get through whatever it is he’s planning and I’ll come back.” I swallow once, nerve draining from my body slowly. “Take the money--Kenya will be angry enough as is.”

Anya drops her gaze as she collects from the table. It takes me a moment longer than it should to recognize this is shameful for her. I consider telling her that she’s doing the right thing, but that would burn her heart more.

“You’re my sister,” Anya’s voice is lower than it’s ever been, “I should have stopped him.”

Her guilt hurts more than the bruises. “You were as hurt as me--you have nothing to feel guilty about.”

This is already more emotion than we’re used to expressing when alone let alone around others. Anya stretches out an arm, squeezes my shoulder once, and then takes a step back. “I’ll see you again.”

“Yes,” I nod once.

“Jesper, take the girl out the back.” Turning forward blankly, Kaz begins to speak to me, “Hide behind the bar--my wraith will find you and take you somewhere else.”

“Y--you have a wraith?” And I thought Kenya was weird. He lets out a sigh. “Sorry. Not the time.”

“Desperation leads to bad decisions.”

Dramatic. “I agree.”

His gaze falls on me, taking in my narrow-eyed glare. There’s a moment in which I think the left corner of his mouth twitches upwards, but then he turns his head again. A trick of the light. “Go before you’re found and I’m out the money I let your friend take.”

Yes. I’m not exactly safe right now, but Kaz Brekker needs me for something. That means I will not be leaving this building. By force or willingly.

Silently, I turn, melting into those in the crowd that are either oblivious or don’t care enough to react to the cat and mouse game I’m currently in. When I reach the bar, I’m quick to duck behind it, pressing my back against shelves of alcohol.

383 notes · View notes

hansolmates · 3 years

Text

one more time (m)

pairing; (former) popular!jk x (former) normie!reader summary; it’s been two years since you’ve seen your former tryst jeon jungkook. you didn’t expect him to be applying for the internship you’re currently running, along with the rate your heart is running at the sight of him in a black suit. genre/warnings; self-deprecating language, your typical (future) co-workers!au, jungkook is a piner and so is oc, a lil bit of sneaking around, adulting, a mutual understanding of feelings (finally!!) smut in the form of—soft n’ dirty baybee, unprotected, cockwarming, overstimulation, minor praise and possession kink, cumplay, &you know that they gon have heart eyes the entire time w.c; 7.3k a/n; darn why am i so... emotional over this??? it started out as a meaningless drabble series but with all my lovely readers and moots it’s grown into such a fun, introspective series. thank u for loving this and joining me on this journey. for those of u who are new to this series feel free to read popular-ish first or as a standalone! [popular-ish masterlist]

if you’ve enjoyed this (whether as a standalone or as a series) please consider giving it a like and a share✨✨✨✨✨

“A mess, I’m a mess,” you sing-song to yourself, organizing the manuals on the clear glass by subject and size. The applications of all your new interns are alphabetized, not a form out of place. Everything’s perfect. “Alright Jessica, all twenty of the interns are accounted for.”

“Actually, there’s twenty-three,” Jessica quips, and you let your shoulders slump. Being part of the recruiting team of your company has been simultaneously exciting and stressful. Stressful because of the constant travel, but otherwise exciting because you loved your internship at your current company. You remember how nervous you were two years ago, and how much support and help you got from your recruiters. Applying to this team was a natural turn of events.

“A-are you sure, Jess?” you look through all the applications, count the amount of nametags, triple check the chairs. You’re sweating through your blazer, wondering where you went wrong.

The head of your recruiting team glues one hand to her hip, while the other hand is holding her iPad, scrolling with her thumb. You swallow, intimidated by Jessica’s golden wavy locks and her black-trimmed white Chanel pantsuit.

“Yep, but don’t be too hard on yourself. I just added three more recruits last night. I’ll get the chairs and the apps are being printed. No worries,” Jessica assures, gesturing for you to hurry up and get outside, “Call the babies in!” your team leader waves her finger around like a magic wand, commanding you to the front lines.

Krystal puts a hand on her shoulder, as always looking impeccable. She has virtually nothing to worry about. She’s a woman who has connections, courtesy of her team leader. “Let’s go, newbie,” she teases, pulling you through the door.

The recruits in the lobby are wide-eyed and vibrant, and you feel a little nostalgic as you watch them line up in front of you and Krystal as you sign them in. You would dwell on the feeling more if it wasn’t for your exhaustion, so you decide you’ll get a chance to take a road down memory lane when you get to the hotel.

“Name?”

“Xu Minghao.”

“Congrats Minghao, here’s your nametag and I’ll see you inside,” with a firm handshake, one recruiter is free to go.

“Name?”

“Chou Tzuyu.”

“Congrats Tzuyu, here’s your name tag and I’ll see you inside,” she doesn’t go in straight away, and moves to the side of the door. “Actually,” you pause mid-handshake with another recruit, staring at the woman in curiosity, “my boyfriend just got a call last night that he was accepted in this year’s batch. Do you have his name?”

“Yes, three more recruits were added,” you chirp, as if you totally did not hear that bit of information five minutes ago, “What’s his name—Jungkook?”

The both of you blink at each other. One hand on Tzuyu’s shoulder, eyes wide and mirroring yours. Your heart falls straight to your stomach, wanting to be eaten by acids and bacteria so you can stop any possibility of feeling any lingering affection for the boy you fooled around with in undergrad. Everything about him screams professional. He’s clean cut, a pinstripe black suit you never thought he’d own, and his hair is neatly trimmed and pulled behind his ears. His shoulders look tall and broad under the slight padding, his biceps comfortably stretching against the dark fabric. The golden complexion remains the same however, from the honest brown eyes to the coral pink lips that would always smile at you.

“Oh, so you do have his name!” Tzuyu clasps her hands together, delighted. He has a girlfriend, too. It’s then you realize you’ll be stuck with not just him, but her for the week. “You guys are so efficient. C’mon Kookie, let’s find some seats!”

“I still gotta get my nametag,” he replies goodnaturedly, gesturing to you, “save us some seats in the front?”

Tzuyu thinks nothing of it, squeezing his bicep before skipping off to the front row. Your eyes linger on her form, and it’s only then you realize how tall and intimidatingly pretty she looks in that plaid teddy bear brown skirt suit. You did not look that good when you were a budding undergrad.

By this time, Krystal has taken all your other recruits from your line, regarding you with a raised brow. She’s fast with her attendance, so you know you don’t have much time.

“I applied last minute,” Jungkook says, scratching his head, “was running out of options before graduation. I didn’t know you’d be one of my recruiters, though. Lucky me.”

Jungkook and you never ended up keeping in contact, at least as of recent. A check-in message a few months in, a happy birthday or holiday greeting late at night. But two years later and those messages are automatic, with no feeling or personality. You never thought you’d see him again, no less in the city.

“You just graduated with your masters, congrats,” you smile at Jungkook, although you’re sure the feigned emotion fails to reach your eyes, “IT Management, right?”

“You remembered,” Jungkook brightens, reaching over to squeeze your shoulder, “you look good.”

“Oh please—” you laugh to yourself, shaking your head, “I just got off a flight and I ran over in a two-day old suit, I don’t even have makeup on,” you didn’t feel this way in the morning, you just rushed to do the bare minimum to be enough and ran over to the convention hall. But now in the presence of Jungkook who looks so handsome and clean-cut, you can’t help but feel a little slighted at the sudden reunion.

“You’re always beautiful,” Jungkook exhales, and you clutch your clipboard closer to your chest.

You cough, an excuse for him to stop touching your shoulder, “You should go inside, it’s gonna start soon. We can catch up later.”

“Wait—” you make a scrunched up face that Jungkook can’t catch, but right in Krystal’s view. You can tell she’s laughing at you internally with her devious grin. “I just wanted to say, Tzuyu isn’t my girlfriend. We’re just…”

“Fooling around?” you didn’t mean for it to sound so sharp, but you wanted this conversation over. You have a job to do and Jungkook is your emotional barrier.

You and Jungkook used to fool around.

Jungkook winces, looking younger in his monkey suit. “I mean if you give me a chance to explain later—”

“Nametag, let’s go newbie.” Krystal slaps on the sticker herself, a little too hard if she asked. She doesn’t even bother to write his full name, just a bright green Jeon JK, IT Management tacked on his breast pocket, clashing with the gold pocket square.

“Sorry,” Jungkook tucks his tail in for now, bowing at you and Krystal as he scurries inside.

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding in. Krystal doesn’t bother to comfort you or ask what’s up—not that you want her to, even though you do want a breather before you have to go up on that stage and explain the itinerary for a week. The only thing you can do is smooth out your skirt, brush away the flyaways on your hairstyle and plaster a company-paid smile on your face.

The autopilot switch is on throughout the rest of the morning. Not just because Jungkook’s around, but the new position has got you on livewire. You’re glad that you’re not wearing base makeup because you are absolutely melting with all the high beam lights all up in your face as you talk through the week’s activities.

You could swear Jungkook clapped a little harder than most once you stopped talking, but maybe it’s because you’re not used to seeing Jungkook in the very front of a lecture. In fact, he was a very hard middle person, preferring not to show off his intelligence and let other people lead the discussion. Then again, it’s been two years, you don’t know how much he’s changed.

Jessica caps off the seminar with a great kick-off, the happy hour. The recruitment team picks a four star restaurant under their hotel so the recruits can enjoy themselves before going off to the training facility for a week.

And by training facility, you also mean yet another four-star hotel. You knew you made the right decision by joining this company because the benefits are impeccable, and value personal enjoyment just as much as they value work ethic. In the morning you and the recruits will be driving uptown to a private resort where there would be classes in the morning, and recoup in the evening. You’re very much looking forward to the infinity pool on the roof.

The recruits are ushered out as soon as you’re done, and that’s when you step out of the shadows to clean up the chairs and the brochures left behind. Thankfully Jungkook is probably following the norm and going back to the hotel to freshen up before dinner. Once the room is completely empty, you rip off your blazer and let yourself relax.

It’s going to be a long week.

Jeon: where u @?

You: hotel room

Jeon: why? Thought we were all gonna have dinner together

You: nahhh, this night is for the recruits! You’ll be tired of our faces by the end of the week, enjoy it while you can 😉 have a good night

You sigh in contentment, relaxing further into the silk sheets. You just finished your skincare routine, letting some mindless drama play as the essences and serums sink into your skin. All you want is one Jungkook-free night. Tomorrow you’ll be stuck training him and Tzuyu for the week and you want to take tonight to emotionally prepare yourself.

Your phone rings once more.

Big Baddie Jessica Jung: krystal and i ordered takeout in the restaurant downstairs. Can u bring it to our room? Plsssssss

Little Baddie Krystal Jung: it’ll be faster if you do it, we even got u a lil somethin🍰🍰🍰

Taking in your outfit, you grimace. You’re dressed for bed, a large nightie with your hair pulled back and a little pink bunny tie headband on top. Can’t they get room service to send it up? You admire your boss but you don’t understand why she needs to display her power over and over, she already knows you’ll follow her to the ends of the earth.

Quickly slipping into a pair of sneakers you run down the expanse of the hotel. It’s easy to spot where the recruits are, livin’ it up in the large restaurant that takes up half the space of the ground floor. Most of them are pretty drunk, hoping to sleep off the hangover on the four-hour bus ride. You have absolutely no judgement, two years ago you were in the same position.

Thankfully you don’t have to go far into the restaurant, as the hostess immediately knows Jessica’s order. While you wait for her to go into the kitchen and get it you drum your fingers against the counter, hoping no one notices you. It’s akin to when you’re a teacher in a mall, hoping none of your students gawk at you in the middle of Victoria’s Secret.

“Ah, well Jungkook and I aren’t official yet—but very soon.”

Your ears perk up at the sweet voice. Tzuyu is leaning across the open bar next to the counter, sipping on a mango mojito. She’s dumped the blazer for the night, showing off her soft skin and slender arms with a sleeveless cream blouse.

“Then where is he?” another recruiter asks, gesturing to the expanse of the lobby.

“He’s not much of a party person,” Tzuyu shrugs, tipping back her drink.

You scoff, plastering on a smile to the hostess as you grab your bags and walk as fast as you can out of the lobby. You’ve never felt more like an old hag until now. Sure, most of the recruits are younger than you, but seeing Tzuyu talk so freely about her relationship with Jungkook has you in a bit of a spiral. The day of graduation, you told Jungkook not to wait for you. Heck, you’re only interested in the idea of what you could’ve had with Jungkook.

These thoughts only cloud you further as you jab the elevator buttons all the way up to the suites where you and the Jungs reside. You relax a little when you see a strawberry cheesecake sitting prettily on the top of their order, your name written on the label with a little heart. Hanging their bag on the door handle of their room, you make your way back to your suite.

You freeze when you see a floppy-haired Jungkook roaming the hallway, looking like a clueless child hobbling around in slippers and wide eyes at any sparkly item that decorates the area. It doesn’t even look like he tried attending the happy hour tonight, dressed in an impossibly big heather grey sweatsuit that swallows his form.

“Are you lost?” you ask tentatively, as if you’re talking to a toddler lost at the mall.

Jungkook relaxes considerably at the sound of your voice, and he replies, “Was tryna find your room since you didn’t reply to my texts.”

“So… you decided to check all the rooms?”

“Yep,” he pops the p with a smack of his lips, “I figured the recruiters would be far away from the party so I started at the top. Thankfully I got to Jessica’s room first. Didn’t have to knock on too many doors. Only one old man got annoyed at me.”

“You’re crazy,” you chuckle, slipping in your keycard to let Jungkook in.

“Fuck, this room all to yourself?”

Jungkook doesn’t hesitate to kick his slides to a corner of the wall, flopping atop your bed and clutching your baby blue koala plush in his arms. The king sized bed is enough for his legs to stretch comfortably without falling off the edge, and he eagerly pads his feet against the soft fabric.

It warms you to think that Jungkook is comfy enough to lay on your bed and hug your stuffed animals, a semblance of friends that you’ve missed for such a long time. Last year the team you worked for was great, you loved the people and even now you consider some of them friends. This year the team is a little smaller, and since your two other co-workers are sisters, it’s a little harder to nudge yourself in the direction of friendship.

As soon as you sit down against the headboard, Jungkook’s eyes soften. Everything feels so different and the same. The threadbare pajamas that either of you haven’t had the heart to throw away since they’re so damn comfy, yet your bodies are a little more worn and your eyes a little more droopier than usual.

“So,” Jungkook bites his lip, not in the sexy way, but the nervous way, “about Tzuyu—”

“Jungkook, you don’t have to explain yourself,” you slump on your corner of the bed, regarding Jungkook with guilty eyes. “I really shouldn’t be feeling the way I’m feeling. It isn’t fair and I don’t want to jeopardize your internship.”

“And… what are you feeling?”

“Dumb things.”

“Your feelings aren’t dumb.”

“This time they are.”

“I’ve always shared my feelings, it’s unfair that you never want to share yours,” Jungkook sits up, criss-cross applesauce, pensive. “Maybe it’s my fault for not making you feel comfortable enough to share, but I feel like the reason why we never worked out was because we never tried hard enough to have a proper conversation.”

How could you have missed all the indicators, all the good words, all the kindness Jungkook has given you that last semester? “You’re absolutely right,” you let your insecurities, your apprehensiveness, get in the way. You think in two years you’d do better to eradicate this kind of behavior, but lately you haven’t had many friends to express your feelings to. “Tell you what, I’ll work harder to express how I feel. No exchanges, no nothings. I owe you this.”

“You owe me nothing,” Jungkook smiles, “I just think it would be nice to y’know, talk. As friends.”

“Right, friends.”

“So, will you hear me out about Tzuyu?”

“Let me open my cake,” you pull out your bag with the cheesecake, which thankfully has two spoons, “it seems like we’ll be having that kind of conversation.”

Everyone is more amicable because of food. According to Jungkook, Tzuyu has a hardcore, ten-year plan for her twenties. After a couple of dates with Jungkook, Tzuyu whips him into the plan. Mentions that she’s well-bred and has a family reputation to uphold. Says IT Management is something completely desirable in a partner, that he’s sensible and wonderful and would like to be committed full-time.

“And she talked to her parents about me and said that I’m a good prospect for marriage. Like I’m another pillar in her plan!” Jungkook cries, taking a monstrously sized bite of your cheesecake, wallowing away.

This is akin to sleepovers you’ve always wanted to have in high school, down to the food gorging. You can’t help but be fascinated, “So are you wrapped up in an engagement? Is this a scary rendition of Crazy Rich Asians?”

“You just can’t turn a one-eighty like that on a fifth date,” Jungkook shakes his head, reeling at the emotional whiplash, “she’s really nice. Really organized, really perfect. It really intimidates me.”

“Is she what you reaaaally want?” you can’t help but ask, rolling your eyes at the excessive use of the word, and tamp down the pain in your stomach by eating a forkful of creamy cheesecake.

“I don’t know!” Jungkook replies exasperatedly, “Obviously I’m worried since she wants to put a ring on it. I told her she needs to back off. Right after the seminar I said she had no right telling other people we’re boyfriend and girlfriend. She didn’t say much, just frowned and walked away.”

You roll your eyes, scraping the leftover graham cracker crust from the edge of the plastic plate. “According to her, I heard you two are planning to make it official very soon.”

His eyes widen, “I really bring girl trouble wherever I go, don’t I?”

“Since I’ve known you,” you half-joke, putting away the plastic cutlery on the nightstand.

You two sit in silence for a few moments, letting the television fill the room with mindless static about some sappy Hallmark movie. Tentatively, you land a hand on Jungkook’s knee. He looks down at your tiny fingers, giving his skin an experimental squeeze of comfort.

“I don’t want her,” he finally says.

“Okay,” you reply, “you won’t even have to talk to her if you don’t want to. I can arrange the groups this week so you don’t have to be around—”

“Give me one week,” his eyes flash to yours, dark and sharp.

“Jungkook. You have your determined face on,” it makes you sweat.

“Because I’m determined to win you over, once and for all,” you eyes widen, and Jungkook visibly freezes, “was that too much? I’m kind of on an emotional high today. I didn’t expect to see you today and it kind of threw me into a loop. I thought I might be running into you once I started my internship but I didn’t think you’d be my recruiter. And then you went on that stage all bad-ass talking about work and you looked so gorgeous in your suit and I was so proud knowing you made it and IrealizedhowmuchImissedyou—”

“Jungkook, slower,” you’re feeling a little woozy as well, equally overwhelmed. “You’re just saying this because you didn’t expect to see me—”

“You’re deflecting, again.”

“I’m scared, okay?” you blurt, throwing your hands in the air. “You’re right, this is all so sudden. So can’t we just start being friends and see if it takes us somewhere? You don’t have to win me over, just support me like I’ll support you.”

“I’m sorry,” Jungkook moves up the bed, so he’s leaning against the headboard as well. His long legs stretch farther than yours, and it feels oddly domestic as you talk it out and stare at the television screen. “I’m just, worried I’m running out of time.”

“I'm not going anywhere this time.”

“I know,” Jungkook shakes his head, ridding himself of his torrid thoughts. Conceding, he gestures to the television, pulling out the remote under your pillow, “wanna watch television, or catch up?”

You last about an hour until you knock out. However, Jungkook keeps you entertained up until that moment, as you exchange your lives and stresses. Everything meshes together, you’re not sure if it’s the charm that comes with late night talks, but you feel like you can talk to Jungkook about anything if given the time. You melt when he strokes your hair till the last minute, wishing you a goodnight and a promise of more.

“Okay, I’ve gone over most of the work ethics in the manual,” you smile nervously when you see your glazed over recruits, nearly falling off their chairs. Even Krystal is bored out of her mind, discreetly playing with her phone in the back under her manual. Of course you’d get stuck with teaching the boring classes. “Any last minute questions before we head off for dinner?”

Tzuyu shoots her hand up, “Are romantic relationships allowed in the workplace?”

Jungkook promptly chokes on his water bottle. He looks up at you, panicked. Ignoring his terror, you paint on a thin smile towards the young woman, “Like I mentioned earlier, romantic relationships between employees are not frowned upon, so long as you’re not working under or over someone in the same department.”

“Right, just wanted to make sure,” Tzuyu is all chipper smiles as she thanks you.

If you were still twenty-one, you’d gag at the pointed look she sends Jungkook. They’re sitting diagonal from each other, and Jungkook makes a point to pretend to be interested in your lecture until the very end.

You’re halfway done with recruitment week, and while you’re not shocked at how fast the week has gone by, you’re fairly disappointed that Jungkook and you haven’t had time to meet up in private. So far it’s been easy enough to keep your friendship (and past sexual relationship) a secret, but something dark and eager tells you how much you want more. The recruiters are eager to leave, all twenty-three of them grouping off and talking about what they want to eat for dinner. Everyone except a certain dark-haired fellow, who’s hair is currently bouncing off it’s styled coiff, wanting to return to it’s normal non-gelled self.

“Kookie,” you raise a brow at the interaction, Tzuyu leaning over her chair to Jungkook’s, “wanna get dinner tonight?”

Jungkook’s taking an excruciatingly long time to pack his things, raising a brow at her, “I’ve told you already, I don’t want to be involved in whatever plans you have.”

“Oh-kay,” Tzuyu rocks back and forth on her oxford heels, pursing her magenta pink lips, “then why don’t we at least walk back to the hotel together? I really want to talk about some things that might change your mind.”

“Nothing will change my mind,” Jungkook’s determined face has been staying strong for the week, from the way he makes sure he’s first in your class to the simple “good morning” and “good night” texts you exchange. “Besides, I have a date tonight. And I really want to talk to the recruiters about a personal work matter, so can you please leave?”

You try not to snort at how blatant Jungkook was being. You pretend to organize your folders, throwing whatever random notes you have in your bag for later.

“A date,” she twitches, “with who?”

“Someone that doesn’t treat me like a stepping stone in her career path,” Jungkook deadpans, and that’s all it takes for Tzuyu to huff and walk away from the hall.

You think Tzuyu is like a bug, relatively harmless, but someone who gets on your nerves.

“A date, huh?” Krystal quotes, finally looking up from her phone. Her sharp, cat-eyes linger at the door, wondering if Tzuyu is going to pop out and try to drag Jungkook by the reins. Finally, she plants her stare between you and Jungkook. “So, you two fucking?”

“Former fucking,” Jungkook supplies helpfully, and you jump off your podium to elbow him in the ribs, “ow—what?”

“You just don’t tell Krystal we’re fucking!”

“Former fucking,” he chastises, but the eyes he sends you are a little sultry, and you wonder if he’s thinking of fucking in the future. You reel yourself back, focusing on the third party.

But you anticipate that Krystal couldn’t care less, and you’re grateful for that. While a smaller work team means a smaller possibility of close work relationships, you do like the drama-free environment. “Like you said,” Krystal shrugs, slinging her briefcase over her shoulder, “romantic relationships in the workplace are not frowned upon.”

You wring your hands between your bag when Krystal finally makes her getaway, and you look up at Jungkook. “So,” you smile wryly, “you have a date tonight, huh?”

“With a pretty working woman,” he sighs dramatically, putting a hand over his chest, “that is, if she’ll have me.”

“Consider yourself taken.”

Jungkook and you sneak away to your suite once again. To your surprise, the suite is decorated in rose petals and a bottle of champagne sits in an ice bath on your bedside. A large pizza pie sits beautifully on your coffee table, and the television is playing lo-fi hip-hop.

You feed Jungkook champagne-dipped strawberries as you gorge on the joy that is baked bread and cheese.

And when he kisses you, it’s slow and sweet, like you have all the time in the world.

It’s the last day of recruitment week, and all classes ended at noon so the interns can use all the resort’s amenities to the fullest. Many of the interns, including yourself, Jessica and Krystal, are on the rooftop celebrating a successful workweek. Staff and interns alike are buzzing around, eager to top off their weekend with some relaxation and sun.

Jungkook is with his new team, conversing with other IT employees. You try not to stare too hard at your reignited flame, tipping back a cutely decorated glass of fruit. His arms ripple as he tips back the liquid. He’s wearing a tank top and you could swear his biceps have gotten meatier. Unfortunately you hold yourself back, after all the internship isn’t quite over and you still are a professional.

At the end of the weekend you really have nothing to worry about, you know that.

But Tzuyu? She irritating.

“I just don’t understand,” Tzuyu suspects nothing of your budding relationship with Jungkook. You’re thankful for that because towards the end of the week, it was getting harder and harder to be subtle when you two send each other heart eyes from three meters away.

Tzuyu sounds like she’s talking to herself, the way she stares into the infinity pool, despite the fact that her friends are surrounding her with rapt attention. You’re a cabana away from her, sipping languidly at your drink while Jessica and Krystal nap next to you. Even though you can’t see Tzuyu, you can practically feel her pout emanating through the fabric that separates you two. Despite the fact that she’s been offered a great intern position given her degree and experience, she’s still upset. For her, is that not the most important part of this whole week?

“Jungkook’s really not that great if he’s going to turn me down like that,” Tzuyu seethes. You should write up her nonsense in a book and publish it, really. “Why waste time when he has the whole package right in front of him?”

It’s then you realize why you’ve been so torn, so strung up and wound tight all these years. Just like college, all shy and hesitant to take a step forward while Jungkook was ten steps ahead, you were worried. You let other people’s thoughts stop you from making the leap, girls like Tzuyu that never meant to intimidate you, but you let their presence get up in your head and control the nonexistent hierarchy.

But two years later, and that doesn’t matter. It never mattered. Jungkook is no longer the all-star lacrosse player, but what remains is his heart, full and willing.

Everything Tzuyu just said was… wrong. Irrevocably, inexplicably messed up. But the idea of “wasting time” does strike a chord within you. Are you wasting time? At this point, your feelings of each other are pretty clear. What are you two waiting for, again?

You thought Krystal was sleeping, considering her sunhat sitting atop her face, but once she hears you packing away your bag she whistles, “Go get ‘em, tiger.”

Sending a quick text to Jungkook, you make a beeline for your destination. You don’t even bother looking for him in the crowd.

You: meet me by the elevator at the very end of the lobby.

Not a minute passes by when Jungkook joins you at said elevator. He has two glasses of champagne in his hands, and offers one to you, “tired of the party?” he asks.

You clink drinks, easily tipping yours back. “It’s not our thing,” you declare with a small smile. Jungkook's eyes soften, glancing back and forth between your face and the soft pleats of your marigold sundress. His hair is pushed back, sticky from sweat and chlorine, dark bangs hanging over the shaved sides of his head. You turn your head slightly as you wait for the elevator, biting your lip as you're sorely reminded of how sexy Jungkook looked at the dive pool half an hour ago.

The elevator dings, and it’s wide enough for you to slip in at the same time. You put your champagne glass in the corner of the elevator for now, hoping you don’t accidentally step on it. In closed quarters, you can smell the slight tang of chlorine coming from Jungkook, combined with his own brand of musk.

Jungkook looks younger tonight, happier. Having just finished graduate school and working towards a full-time gig, another chapter in his life has started. His hair is no longer in that tight-whipped coiff he struggled all week to maintain, loosened in its natural wave due to the pool water and heat. His cheeks are a little ruddied and plump, a sign he’s been enjoying the food this week.

The door barely closes when you get it out, pulling at his hand to face you.

“Jungkook, I like you,” you blurt, and his eyes bug out considerably. Out of reflex, his hand sharply squeezes yours. “You don’t have to say anything, because you’ve been saying everything for the majority of our relationship. I really like you, I really liked you back then too. You’re still so sweet, and loving, and smart and I’ve just been too dumb and insecure to—”

Jungkook seals your confession away with a desperate kiss, and you turn into a pile of mush at the contact. Relief seeps into your bones, sings into your system. When he pulls away, he looks serious. He doesn’t let you get far, and clutches your face between his two hands so you can’t turn your head. Your soft cheeks fill between his fingers, warm and cradled.

“Never call yourself that,” Jungkook exhales, regarding you with firm eyes, “you’re beautiful, and intelligent, and the person I want.”

“I don’t wanna take it slow anymore,” you mumble against his lips, leaning in so that you can barely nip at the pink skin. “Want you now, need you now.”

“You have me now,” Jungkook agrees, and as soon as the elevator dings open to your floor, he scoops you up into his arms.

By all means it’s not graceful, he’s clutching you like a baby with his hands over your butt as he jiggles you all the way to your front door. Clinging onto him like a koala, you press kisses to his cheeks as he leads you to your room. You laugh and giggle like teenagers, as he fumbles between your breast to grab the card key that’s nestled between your bra. It’s warm in his hand as he swipes it through the reader, pushing you inside.

“Is it bad that I’m kinda turned on by the fact you got my key out of my boob?” you joke, although the contact of his rough fingers against your breast is a feeling well missed.

“Is it bad that I’m always turned on when you lecture in seminars?” Jungkook retorts, kicking the door closed with his slipper-clad foot as he walks you to the bed. “Fuck, I can hear you talk about insurance benefits all day.”

“Didn’t know my sex appeal extended that way—oh fuck—”

Your vibrant marigold sundresses provides easy access to Jungkook as he throws you onto the mattress, your skirt billowing over your waist as he makes quick work to expose more of your skin.

“No more talking, more loving,” he’s crazed, doesn’t hesitate to move your bikini bottoms to the side as he rubs lovingly at your long-lost bud, “need to fuck you, now. It’s been so fucking long.”

“Kook,” his breath is warm against your already sopping cunt, and you lift your hand to run through the strands of his messy hair. It only takes one firm tug and you’re able to pull him up by the root of his hair, cranberry juice tinted lips with a faint sheen because he couldn’t help himself to have a little taste of you. “Baby, let me touch you. Let me show you how much I want you," you coo with a pout, hands trailing over the drawstrings of his trunks.

You can see how much Jungkook wants to say yes. His eyes glow with the possibility, bright and wanting in the afternoon sunlight. The image of him shoving his cock deep into your throat, so far that you can taste it in every crevice of your mouth. Your nails gripping into his ass as you go deeper, tears pricking your eyes as cum seeps out of your pretty lips.

But he firmly shakes his head, fingers doing the devil’s work as he eases a digit in you. A little noise of protest bubbles in your throat, but it soon dies out as soon as he finds the right spot to reduce you to mush.

“Next time,” he exhales against the juncture between your thigh and pelvis, picking up the pace and adding another finger, “if you touch me, I’ll cum right then n’there. This is enough for me, you’re enough.”

So you let him have what he wants. You’ll make it up to him in the morning, and the day after, and the day after. You shed your clothes, the sundress extra forgiving as it slides off your body, revealing a swimsuit that hasn’t even touched the pool. You feel a little self-conscious as he drinks you in after so long, but he quickly shucks off his clothes to match your state of nakedness.

You remember how you tiptoed around your first night with Jungkook, taking great care to make sure it was fleeting, how dark the room was as you let your pleasure take over your senses. Two years later and the sun is setting, gold bleeding through your sheets and illuminating the room. There's no need to hide.

“I must say, we’ve both kept it tight,” Jungkook teases with a wink, squeezing your hips so he can change positions.

You silently agree, your fingers slipping across the washboard of his waist.

“Mm, and still so fuckin’ cute,” Jungkook marvels as he pulls you up on his lap. Your whole body is flushed with want, one hand squeezing your breasts while the other plays with the curls of hair that lead to your sopping wetness. You glide your core over Jungkook’s stomach, sighing as you take note of the abs that clench under your heat and his hot member that rubs between your ass.

It’s a tight fit when you finally sink down on him, but the burn only fuels your desire as he stretches you wide. His grip is helpful as he guides you through the motions. It’s been awhile since you’ve been this physical with someone, and it’s almost comical when you both sigh in contentment at the contact.

“I’ve missed this,” you mumble, biting into his shoulder as he thrusts up.

“Mm, it feels different, right?” Jungkook hums, keeping a slow pace. The drag is wonderful, and you know that he’s trying to prolong the moment. He reaches for your head, presses his forehead to yours as he speaks, “you’re mine now, right? For real.”

“I’m all yours, Jungkook,” you press kisses everywhere. No need to hide anymore. You bleed love into every kiss, to his jawline, the little freckles across his chin, his lips. “This is romantic and all, but I really want you to dick me down. Which is why you need to go a little faster, you sap.”

Jungkook scoffs, “A pillow princess is what you are.”

He stops moving, and you two sink further into the mattress without its springs bringing you back up. The both of you are acutely aware of how wet you both are, your combined arousals seeping between your seams and dripping onto Jungkook’s thighs. But the young man simply relaxes against the headboard, baiting you.

“Kook,” you whine, clenching against his member. Your hot walls have a mind of their own, unable to stifle their desire. Sweat lines Jungkook’s brow as he tries his hardest not to move, just simply be.

“Tell me how much you want me, princess,” the pet name has you clenching harder, and you pout.

“Baby,” you whine, leaning forward to whisper in his ear. There’s no one in the room, and you’re sure no one is on this floor because everyone’s on the rooftop, but the words you’re about to say are for Jungkook and Jungkook only, “please, I want you to pound me into this mattress until I can’t walk anymore. I want to cry out your name so everyone can hear I’m yours. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” you nip at his lobe, and let your thumb nick at the simple silver rings that adorn his ear. You hear a click of his teeth, indicating the clench of his jaw as his muscles flex around your body, "I want you to fill me with your cum until I’m eating it, and—and—oh Kook!”

Your words aren’t enough to distract you from his large dick sitting prettily between your folds, and you’re suddenly cumming, all by the mere thought of what’s to happen. You’re shuddering in his arms, and Jungkook soothes you by running his fingers over the spine of your back, distracting you from the utter mess you’re making on the sheets.

“Such a good girl,” Jungkook coddles you, stroking your hair, “can my good girl take it?��

“Y-yes, Kook,” you nod eagerly, fighting the overstimulation as he nudges you off his lap. You’re pliable, as Jungkook sets up the pillows for you to rest comfortably as you get on your elbows and knees, “your good girl.”

You shudder as your bare pussy starts to feel cold, immediately missing the warmth Jungkook can provide. You can practically feel his hot gaze burning in your back, his large palm squeezing your ass as he marvels at how ready and eager you are for him.

“It’s so easy to slip inside,” Jungkook rubs your nectar across the head of his cock, swirling around your engorged skin as he slips right inside. You both moan at the stretch, “Finally, my adorable baby, you like this? You like getting pounded like the dirty girl you really are?”

“Mm, yes!” you squeal, clutching onto the feather down pillows for dear life as Jungkook displays his strength, one hand gripping your hips as the other weaves itself into your hair. It’s a delicious mix of pleasure and pain, and the lewd sounds of each other’s juices and his balls against your ass echoing in the room.

“Y-yeah,” despite his power, his thrusts are sloppy, and you know he’s almost at the edge, “and I like you, so so much. I want to make you cum everyday, make you happy and—mph—” he gives up on talking, focusing entirely on his destination.

“Cum, baby,” you urge, melting when his one hand comes to thread with your own, “fill me up with you.”

He flips you on your back, and you finally see how desperate Jungkook is to cum. His eyes are glassy, filled with emotion as he strokes himself to completion. Your hand reaches up to cup his damp face, and that’s when you feel him loosen. Hot, pearly strings cling to your pussy, decorating your skin in his essence. Your fingers immediately reach down to swirl the cum between your folds, and Jungkook groans at the picture, immediately throwing your hands to the side to kiss you senseless.

There’s so much pouring between the two of you, affection, the feeling of being cherished, so much that you can feel the whole world reducing to the two of you.

“All mine,” he whispers to himself, as if he still can’t believe it. And then, he puts up a poker face as he leans into you, resting his head gently on your breasts, “I knew I only needed a week.”

You narrow your eyes, flicking lightly at his forehead. You’re sticky, sweaty, and covered in cum and while you’re exhausted, the built in jacuzzi in your washroom looks very enticing right now. “Jungkook, this happened naturally. I said we would try as friends first and we did. We just so happened to escalate pretty fast.”

“I don’t think it was that fast,” Jungkook nuzzles his face into your skin, “it’s been two years since college. Being popular did do a number on our relationship, but we caught up."

“You were popular-ish,” you roll your eyes, teasing him. His face falls, and you can’t help yourself. Your hands reach over to cup his cheeks, and you happily squish the supple, pouty flesh. He’s adorable. “Kim Taehyung though? Park Jimin? Absolute heartthrobs I couldn’t stand to be near them—ah!”

Jungkook seems to read your mind, lifting you bridal style to drag you over to the bathroom where the marble jacuzzi sits tauntingly. The stone is ice cold as he brings you both inside, immediately turning on the nozzles to fill it with steaming hot water. You find the tiny bottle of lavender suds, spilling the soap in an arc. His legs slip over yours, cradling you so that your back is pressed against Jungkook’s chest.

“Being popular never mattered,” Jungkook shakes his head, pressing a kiss to your jaw, “I realized the only person who I really needed to notice me was you.”

bonus.

You wake Jungkook up the next morning with your lips wrapped around his cock, fresh cherry balm rubbing down the thick veins until he's cumming down your throat.

"Wow," Jungkook whistles, licking his lips at the sight of you sucking the arousal from your thumb. He huffs against the pillow, eyes darting to the open organza window, letting in the early morning light. The rooftop of a multi-star hotel, white Egyptian cotton seats, a full time job on the way and waking up in the most blissful way possible.

"I have a proposal," you crawl on top of him like a koala, hooking your thighs between his blanket clad body.

"I do," he replies instantly, looking straight at you with droopy puppy eyes.

"Not that kind," you slap his chest, "where are you living once orientation is over?"

"Mm, there's a boarding house near a local translation. It's probably an hour commute? Not too bad."

"So, I just leased a townhouse last month," you bite your lip, tucking your head between his neck to hide your embarrassment, "I was gonna rent out the spare room and put an advert in the paper but…"

"I do."

"I said it isn't a marriage proposal."

"Asking you to live with me is basically a marriage proposal."

"There will be no benefits," you sit up, wagging a finger in his face, "you'll be paying rent and half the utilities. And you will be doing all the laundry."

"Sure," Jungkook replies loftily, squeezing your ass, "you're benefit enough."

#jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #btswritingcafe #btsghostie #kwritersworldnet #goldenclosetnet #jungkook fic #jungkook scenario #bts fic

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spikesbimbo · 3 years

Text

Cloud 39

Pairing: Aran Ojiro x f!eader

Tags; big strong greek god aran (like 7ft tall in his human form), sacrilegious undertones(?), oral sex f!receiving, body worship f!receiving, possessive tendencies, size kink, anal fingering spit, snowballing, dacryphilia, choking, kinda angst at the end

wc:4k

a/n: happy birthday to my man!! And thank you for help with the header pic !!! @selfishwitch

18+ Minors DNI

Your body splayed out across his, arms wrapped around his neck while his large hands held you close, leaning into him as you didn't care anymore, finding comfort in his warm body and cozy scent.

The warm air putting you at ease, eyes peeking out to see the many flowers bloom before you. If you were to die you'd rather do it here than the place you called home. So dark and dreary, always so foggy and gloomy, but here the sun was always shining though the clouds, golden light shining alluringly onto his skin, a place fit for a king.

“Aran, sweetheart.” His honey-like voice breaking you out of your trance. “That’s my name, so why don't you say it? His tall frame leaning into yours, head craning down into your neck as his eyes meet yours before you could look away. “I already told you that you could, are you still scared of me?

“N-no, i ju-. I'm just…. nervous.” You softly stammered out, quickly divertering your eyes from his, afraid you'd get lost in them as you adjusted yourself on his thigh. Legs dangling on the other side as you tried your hardest to ignore his almost naked body. His ivory robe wrapped loosely around one of his broad shoulders, and tied around his slim waist, not looking like he cared if it fell off.

“You okay? You look a little dazed. Don't worry love, m’not gonna eat you up like they said I would.”

“wh-” As if he read your mind, rumors spreading around your town. Never thinking you would get selected to be his yearly offering, your ‘family’ quickly throwing you away to appease the gods.

His hands covered in gold up to his arms rested on your back, taking up the whole space as his thumb worked its way up and down, not knowing if he was making sure you wouldn't fall from so high up, or reassuring you.

”So,” you started, halting your words. Anxious feeling filling up in your chest as reality set it, remembering you were a sacrifice and not just his companion.

“So what?” he continued, leading you on. Summery eyes still set on you as if he was watching your every move, feeling so little and insignificant under him. Clinging onto him like a child as the fact remained in your head, ‘he could drop you if he wanted’. His realm towering over your city and town, trees looking like grass as you finally got the courage to look down.

“What are you going to do with me?”

“What am i going to do with you?” He lightly chuckled into your temple, teeth smiling white as the clouds his throne was resting high above, skin glowing as his eyelashes fluttered so heavenly, the most beautiful thing you've ever laid your eyes on.

He looked like an angel.

“Whatever you want love, m’not going to make you to do anything you don't want to.”

“What do you mean ‘don't want to’?

“I mean sex pretty girl, fornicating. You ever heard of it?” He joked as your face curled up into his chest.

“Y-yes I have!” you stated loudly, quickly trying to cover up. Embarrassment rising in your face at the thought of doing it with him, not wanting to make a fool out of yourself even more.

“So what happened to the others?’ You said trying to get your mind off of it, hoping he didn't notice the way you were squirming on his lap.

“The others?....” Seeing what you meant click in his head as he tilted it. “They can choose whether they want to or not, then I send them on their way. Why my love?” A smirk appraising on his face, heat rising in your body at the word ‘my’.

“You thought I drained them dry and burned them up? The tease in his voice had you flustered, “Unfortunately, humans' heads always come up with the worst thoughts, fear always plaguing in the back of their mind. Even going as far as to do this.” knowing he was referring to you.

“Probably because they're not immortal.” You muttered under your breath, remembering the first time you've ever seen a god in real life. Playing with them as a child, not knowing the difference until one day you were running around in a storm, no one caring to tell you that the violent winds would knock your tiny body off its feet.

Meeting them at the usual place, the cliff on the coast of the ocean, dancing in the rain with no cares in the world until they stumbled, fear replacing the untroubled, joyful look in your eyes as you saw them fall off the rock. Body moving on its own before you knew it, reaching your hand out, but it was too late, both of your bodies falling many meters down onto the jagged waves and rocks below.

Grateful that you loved the water, as your body once again moved on its own, muscle memory making you break the surface of the water, voice immediately screaming out for your friend as soon as you caught your breath.

Not even knowing you were injured until you saw the red stain surrounding you, eyes burning from the salt and the heavy rain drops landing in them as you tried your best to keep them open. Catching a glance of your only friend washed up on the shore, head bloody as they were limp above the sand.

Doing your best to swim up to them as your leg could barely move, finally crawling up to them with all your strength, almost gagging at the sight before you. Head cracked open as your trembling little hands did their best to put it back together, shock overtaking you as their eyes suddenly opened, standing up like nothing happened. Comforting you as they saw you were a shaking mess, asking why you were still bleeding , not knowing the divide between you until that day.

Coming home to your family berating you, saying at least it wasn't your face, knowing they could still marry you off for money. Afraid of death due to that day along with heights, never going above sea level again. Scared by just the thought of it, the reminder scaring you mind, but of course fate would turn out this way, sadly laughing at the thought.

Again as if he could read your mind, his hand traced your damaged skin, understanding your thoughts and comforting you at the same time. Lucky you got sent to such a man, no, a god. Glad to let him use you as he needed, the only one who's ever cared enough to listen to you in your life.

Letting a little whine out as his hand brushed your inner thigh, involuntary jerking in his hold, grinding against him as you felt him grow harder against your back. "Can I?" he asked, eyes laced with need.

Remembering that this was the usual for him, remembering that you were just his plaything at the end of the day. Lip quivering as your eyes fluttered closed, unsteady hands moving towards your hips, pushing your tiny little makeshift skirt to the side, almost matching his.

"Stop."

You froze in place. His hands meeting yours, pushing them to the side. Standing up as he took you off his lap, setting you back down. Him resting below you as he gently grabbed your jaw, burning cheeks cooling down. "Look at me, " His soft voice said in a tone that didn't take "no" for an answer. “Look me in the eyes while I undress you.”

Letting go of your jaw as you listened, his hands moving; pulling off the sash around your waist, the ghost of his touch making you shiver. Eyes locked with his as his head rested on your chest, undoing the knots on your shoulders, the sigh of the top melting off of you. Clothes pooling around your ankles, nipples growing hard at the open air.

"-don't hide yourself."

HIs soft voice coming out in a command, not knowing if you even had control over your body anymore. Shyly lowering your arms, body exposed. The feeling being new, the first man to ever make your heart race this violently, his touch lingering on you.

He was the god and yet here you were getting worshiped, on his knees before you as you were on his throne, large calloused hands resting the weight of your legs as he spread them open, placing open mouthed from your ankles up to your thighs, lips following the scar, almost trying to prove a point, that this was the only difference between you two.

Trying to muffle your moans, skin so sensitive to the touch. His hand feeling like fire moving up to your cheek, thumbing it before tracing his finger over your lips. Freeing them from your teeth, wiping away the blood as he brung it back to his lips.

Not knowing that you were the only one could ignite such reactions from him in such a short time, making him the greediest he's ever been. Defying his own logic, becoming a hypocrite by wanting to snatch you up and lock you away, keeping you all to himself. Not even asking if you were anyone else’s before his hands roamed all over your body, not even waiting to find out. Knowing right now he'd probably snap and take their lives for touching something that was his.

His.

The thought sounding nice in his head, spreading the rest of you short lived life with him. Waking up to see your pretty, entrancing smile every morning, knowing he could easily get his way. Wanting to hear his name fall from your pretty lips, your voice so sweet and soft, wanting to make you feel relaxed enough to not call him the formalities that he's never believed in.

Stopping before your entrance, wanting to drag it out to make you completely crumble into his arms, working for it as he should.

His hands encompassing your tits, soft lips following him as well taking your nipple between his teeth after leaves countless kisses on them. Groping and squeezing the other one as his tongue flicked your nipple back and forth, so hot and wet, finally getting you to release those pretty whimpers he knew you had as he once again towered over you.

His free hand resting on the side of your tummy making it twist, feeling so small and puny under his lust filled gaze as his cold eyes turned warm after meeting yours.

Lowering himself onto his knees once again, releasing your tit with a lewd, wet pop sound, body shaking as he placed his face right in front of your aching cunt. The tip of his tongue parting your slit, kissing it so passionately. Kissing everywhere but your clit, licking and sucking every part of your body but the part that needed it most, so neglected that just his breath could make you cum, not even being touched.

Hips trying to best to grind, to get any kind of friction as his hands held you down, not even seeing him flex his muscles to do so, remembering that the only thing you were ever told you were good for had all the attention of a man of power that could take out as many people as he wanted. Sitting back and relaxing the best you could, wanting to be good for him as he'd been to you.

Letting out a squeal as his nose touched your clit, trying your best to not cum as he let out a chuckle, sighing as he pulled away. “Guess I need to move further huh? Needy little thing.” He whispered into you. The soft tease from his voice making you clench around nothing, ashamed that you got off on the power difference, referring to you as a thing, as humans were just pests in the gods eyes.

Knowing he definitely saw as he was still on his knees, hands moving to cover your face. Not knowing if his ego could get any bigger but he swore it did, having you right in the palm of his hand. Thumbs parting your folds as his fingers teased your entrance, whimpers leaving your cracked lips as you tried to muffle them with your hands, teeth sinking into your flesh once again.

“You want my fingers, pretty girl?” he asked, voice thick and deep from arousal as he watched you lift your hips, unable to answer as you face contort in a whine.

“....Got it.”

So pliable as you easily gave way thanks to him. His middle finger stretching you out, the feeling so hot as he was curling it inside of you, finding out your body with ease like a second nature to him. Growing uncomfortable as your thighs were getting sticky and wet, feeling spaced out and dizzy at just his finger. Worried about how you were going to take him, pushing it to the back of your head because you were here for his pleasure, not yours.

Rubbing your clit in circles faster until you're coming all over his hand, dripping onto the seat under you. A sob escaping your lips as he doesn't stop, fingers continuing to thrust into you, stopping once he's had his fun with you.

“Came so pretty for me.” He cooed, admiring your already so blissfully fucked out state.

Raising his soaked lips to yours, spitting your own cum into your mouth as he pushed his tongue in there. Lapping it up as your mind went foggy, legs beginning to tremble while he wrapped his other arm around you, pulling away.

“Just hang on, you're being so good, so good for me, ” Moaning as his fingers replaced his tongue.

“Shh, don’t worry, I’ve got you,” He murmured, trying his best to control his voice while looking at the sight of you lying there, eyes fluttering as they rolled back.

“Its getting dark, love.” he said breaking the silence. Picking up your limp body, bare as the day you were born, muttering out, “I'm taking you to my home.” The sun shining less, sky getting a deeper shade. Seeing the marble and stone pillars surrounding you while he closed the sheer curtains, slightly blocking your view as he set you down on the plush bedding.

“m’gonna make it dirty…” you whispered, legs shifting as you thighs slid together.

Not being able to care less, wanting you and your body so wet and needy for him that he'd need a new one. “I don’t care, my love. Just lay there for me, okay?”

Watching as you crawled to the center of his bed, letting your body collapse. Legs opening as your back arched as, face landing in between the soft ivory pillows. Gritting his teeth moving lower, lifting your thighs up. Moving them out of the way to bury his face into the softness of your ass. Running his thumb down your clit, so swollen as you twitched underneath his finger.

Placing kisses across your ass, the tip of his fingers making their way into your holes, trailing his mouth over your slit. Choking out with a whine embarrassingly loud as you arched your back even more. “Not today my love, wanna see your pretty face right now, wanna see it twist and turn.”

Flipping you over, placing featherlight kisses all over your face down to your shoulder. The jewelry was the only thing remaining on his skin, his robe discarded to the side. The gold complementing his perfect body on display for you as he reached over to the stand, grabbing a jug of wine.

“C’mere”, wrapping his arm around your middle, pulling you up chest to chest with him, feeling his heartbeat as your head looked up to him. “Drink some,”

Your head resting on his hand as it was tilted back, taking a slow sip from it, some slipping past your lips, falling down onto your chest. The burning feeling making you antsy and jitterish.

“Don't worry, I got you.” Not giving you a chance to respond as he pulled the bottle back.

Tongue tracing the red and purple liquid, lips taking their time moving up from your stomach to your chest, kissing every part of your body that was stained. Taking your nipple into his mouth once again, sucking the wine off of your breasts while you were squirming under his touch.

He grins, sucking and rolling it between his teeth, his fingers teasing the other. The stinging feeling he left behind as he moved on from your neck, finally reading your mouth, thumb tracing them before pouring more wine into your mouth, this time catching it before it spilled, lips meeting yours as he kissed you drunk.

His smile was thoroughly charmed, not just the liquid he was savoring, but your nerves and humiliation were being swallowed up too. “You trust me?” His teeth shining under the moonlight, the glow looking like a halo around him. Nodding out a simple “yeah.”.

The heat radiating off of him as he hovered over you, your skin erupting in goosebumps as the warmth grew in the small space between you two. His lips meeting yours slow and controlled, still full of greed and passion while his hands roamed over your body with need.

“S’gonna hurt, love.” he muttered, trying to hold back a groan as his tip barely made its way in, legs spread as far as he could get them. Locked around his waist as he wanted so desperately to bury himself in your soft chest, but the thought of missing your face pulled him away.

“Fuck…”

The feeling of finally sliding his cock into you is unlike anything he's ever felt in his long life. Letting out a gasp of breath as he groaned above you, sinking you down pitilessly onto his cock. His hands ‘gently’ gripping your waist, your knuckles turning white as they clenched onto the fabric underneath you. “...hurts”

“Shh… s’okay. You’re doing so good, feel so good. So wet for me, gonna fuck you so good, love. Gonna make you cum over and over again, gonna fill you up.” he cooed, hands finally settling onto your thighs, resting there as he waited for you to get used to his length. The burning feeling quickly growing numb at the thought of not being enough for him, tears welling up in your eyes at the pain and need.

“a-aran.”

He leans in closer to you, pride blooming in his chest, pressing your sweaty and slick covered body into his. “Hm, love. You okay?”

Nodding hesitantly while your eyes look over his shoulder. “m’not gonna break. I- wa-. No… I need you.”

Kissing your forehead to control himself. “I know you won’t, what d'ya you want?” Wanting to confirm what he thought he heard, hands getting impatient.

“Want you to fuck me, want you to use me,” The needy whine of your voice going straight to his cock.

White shining through his lips. “ I got you, love,” he said leaning back, taking a firmer grip on the top of your hips so he can slam back into you. Voice shattering as you squeal, back curving while your body tires to run away at his brutal pace. The sound of his balls wetly slapping against your ass and his hot breath are the only things you could hear.

“Ah, ara- cant , I-I-, can--” His face beaming at the incoherent words coming from between your lips, knowing he was dumb fucking you dumb. One of his hands moving from your thigh, up to the base of your neck pushing your head down into the pillow.

“Feels good? Gonna tell me how much you love my cock?” He groaned, hips getting faster.

“I--ah, hngh, ara-, I-- it f-feels so good, ah, so good--” Your eyes fluttering shut, trying to stop your tears. “Hngh, p-please,...ple-!”

“Please what baby? ya’ gotta tell me, or i won't know.” he taunted. Slowing his thrusts down with his pent up effort, making you miss the feeling of his cock bruising your walls.

“please, wanna cum, ple-, ngh, w-wan-, please, I--” You whimpered, hands reaching up to his chest, nails leaving imprints behind, nervousness overcoming your face that you left a mark on a god

His eyebrows furrowing as he leans into you. “Fuck, I’m gonna make you mine,” he breathed heavily into your ear. “I’m gonna show everyone, show the whole world below us who owns you. Who’s the only one who can fuck you like this baby, who can have you cross eyed just from the tip, huh? Tell me.”

“You!” you sobbed, more focused on meeting him halfway, more desperate for his cock, than answering him.

His tight grip on your hips, keeping you from kicking and jerking. “Huh? What was that?” He whispered, fucking you like he was competing for you.

“Im gon-, m’gonna cum.” Body jiggling under him as his frame blocked your view, the only thing your eyes could see was him.

“You just take it, don’t you love? You take my cock like that's all you were made for. You gonna cum for me, pretty girl? Gonna cum on my cock? You gonna let me stuff you full?

Vision going black and starry, head drowning as your body felt like it was floating. Feeling him shove himself into, whining as he let out a sinful moan. “Fuck. m’so close. So close because of you, such a good girl, ” Body shaking as he fucked you into overstimualtion, grinding against your clit with each thrust.

“Mine, all mine.”

Hips stuttering and stalling as his balls were flush against your ass. Spilling inside of you and digging your fingers into his arms. Cock still hard even after you clenched around it, cumming onto him again and the bed sheets beneath you with a choked out moan.

Thighs trembling as your body was so eased, sleepy and content. Focusing on the feeling of him stretching you out, and the internal feeling as making him proud. Slowly relaxing until he flipped you over on top of him, laying down. His cock slipping slightly out, the feeling of his warm cum escaping leaving you painfully empty.

Collapsing on top of him after your body gave out entirely. Only being able to breath as you felt his hand rest on your lower back. Turning your head to see his eyes closed, seemingly as worn out as you. The night sky being painted in the background, wondering how long you've been at it.

But as your mind came back to yourself, you realized that you would never be his no matter what the circumstances. Closing your eyes one last time after admiring his face for what sempt like hours, the comfortableness growing as you drifted off to sleep in his big warm arms. Knowing that he'd be more than likely gone when you woke up, wiping your tears one last time.

You’d done your part.

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forever-rogue · 3 years

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if i can send another request: uh how about reader is a helper in marcus moreno's house and she thinks her feelings are unrequited bc she helps marcus get ready to go on a date. And then she has to look over missy while hes on the date and missy is like: u like him right. And reader is like: no way thats unprofessional. And missy looks at her like really? And finally reader caves and says yeah i like you. And at the very end marcus ends up confessing he does like reader and it ends happy? 😭😭

I love 1 (one) crime fighting hero/tired dad. This got real soft, enjoy!

Marcus Moreno x fem!reader; warnings: slight language

Pedro Characters Masterlist

»»————-　♡　————-««

“Thanks for doing this," Marcus' voice is soft as he calls to you from his bedroom. You remind yourself of the current situation and plaster on the best smile you could muster up. But you weren't fooling yourself - or Missy for that matter. She rolled her eyes as she passed by and headed to the kitchen table to start homework; she had a lot to say but it could wait for now.

"Its no problem, Marcus," you promised through slightly gritted teeth as you reminded yourself that you had no reason to be jealous - no reason to have feelings other than friendly for your closest friend.

"C-can you help me real quick?" there was an almost nervous quality to his voice as you made a small sound of confirmation before pushing open the door to his bedroom. Your jaw almost dropped sight; Marcus was standing in front of his mirror, looking more handsome than anyone should have legally been allowed to.

Opting to stick with his love of black on black, he was sporting a pair of well fitting black trousers and a black button that displayed the muscles of his back whenever he moved. You barely caught yourself when you realized he was holding two ties in his hand and displayed them to you.

Flitting over to him, you took both options and shook your head, tossing them into the bed. He didn't say anything but raised a brow in amusement, "no tie. Just what you have on is fine. The black on black is an excellent choice."

"Yeah?" he asked as a nervous smile tugged on the corners of his mouth, "its not too...depressing?"

"Not at all, its very se- you look good Marcus," you promised him as he let out a nervous huff of laughter, "she's going a lucky lady, and she's going to love you."

"Hmm," he mused for a moment, turning his gaze to you in the mirror and trying to read your expression. You quickly dropped your eyes, not sure if you were quite ready to cross that bridge just yet - or ever. His hands went to the top buttons and he quickly undid a few, exposing the smallest amounts of golden skin, "listen, I-"

"I should go and help Missy with her homework," you quickly cut him off before anything else could happen or heavens forbid you confessed your undying love then and there, "and you finish getting ready, mister!"

Before anything else could be said, you darted out of his room and towards the kitchen where Missy was pretending to be engrossed in a book. You knew she was keen on getting as much information as possible and had not doubt been trying to listen in. She closed her book as you took a seat next to her and offered her a small smile.

"How does pizza sound for dinner? We can even go crazy and get ice cream for dessert," you suggested and despite her attempt at a serious look her eyes lit up with excitement as she nodded, "don't worry, we won't tell your dad. It'll be our secret."

"Alright ladies," Marcus came out of the bedroom now sporting that damned leather jacket that made you weak in the knees on top of it all. It was the glasses, perched smartly on his nose that set you off though. How could one man look so good? Practically unfair. Missy nudged your leg to snap out of your little daydream as you caught yourself, "I'm headed off. I won't be back too late. Missy, I want all your homework done and bed at a reasonable hour."

"Fine dad," she groaned as she pulled her folder out of her background with the day's homework.

"And you," he turn his attention back to you as you felt a flush of warmth wash over your face, "are an absolute angel. I don't know what I'd do without you. I owe you big time."

"Don't worry about a thing," you insisted as you motioned your head towards the door, "now go and have fun, Marcus. You deserve it."

"Thanks," there was that stupid, silly, soft smile on his face again, "see you tonight."

With a small wave, he was off on his date. There was a soft tugging on your heart and the back of your eyes burned ever so slightly. You took a breath to collect yourself and decided to ignore it all. It didn't matter anyways, Marcus was going on a date with not you, and whoever she was, she would undoubtedly fall in love with him. It was Marcus Moreno, after all, who wouldn't fall in love?

Missy watched you silently for a few moments before deciding not to bring anything up...not just yet anyway.

»»————-　♡　————-««

“You should tell him you know,” Missy said through a mouthful of ice cream - chocolate chip cookie dough with lots of brownie and fudge, her all time favorite. Your brow furrowed in confusion as you tried to figure out what she could possibly mean. Your stomach churned at the realization, “my dad - you should tell him you like him.”

“W-why would I do that?” you stammered nervously as you tried to keep your face neutral. Missy groaned at your vain attempt as it become very obvious that the young girl knew exactly how you felt, “Missy, I can’t do that. He doesn’t...he couldn’t possibly ever feel the same way.”

“Why not?” she asked as she possibly off her bowl before setting down on the coffee back and pausing the movie you’d been watching, “you and dad both like each other! You might as well tell each other and get it over with. Besides, you’re a million times better than whatever her name is that he’s on a date with.”

“How could you possibly know that?” you laughed lightly at her fervent insistence, the words that he liked you too not lost on you at all.

“Because she’s not you,” she insisted, “and dad really likes you. He’s just...too awkward sometimes. I know he just doesn’t want to mess anything up. But I’m telling you, you both need to stop being fools and tell each other you’re in love!”

“Alright, little Missy,” you groaned lightly as she smiled triumphantly - she had you hook, line, and sinker, “time for bed, it’s late anyways. Go brush your teeth and get changed. I’ll check on you in a little bit.”

“Fine,” she sighed heavily, a trait definitely inherited from Marcus, “but you know I’m right! Tell him!”

You were about to make a smart retort as you watched her giggling form disappear up the stairs but decided against. Apparently all the times you thought you were subtle about your affections towards Marcus, you were being anything but.

Shit, shit, shit. Hopefully he’d never noticed. He was a Heroic, you reminded yourself, of course he knew. But he’d never said anything, never treated you oddly...maybe he didn’t know after all. Maybe this was one of the things he was blind to. Yeah...that was surely it. Besides, why would someone like him ever like you? You were just you and he was...everything.

You’d been so lost in your conversation with Missy and now your own thoughts that you’d had heard the front door open and close. You hadn’t noticed as Marcus slowly made his way into the kitchen and overheard everything. But Missy did - she was his daughter after all, and her little scheme played out exactly out she had planned.

Sighing, you stood up and stretched, still unawares of the eyes glued to you. Marcus smiled at the little sound you made, his own heart thumping nervously as he realized what he needed to do. His date had ended early - his decision -and it hadn’t been particularly fun. His date had been nice, pretty, kind, but at the end of it all, she wasn’t you. That’s what he had wanted. Enough with the skirting around the issue - he was finally going to tell you how he felt.

Scooping the dirty bowls up, you tried to figure out just how you were going to tell Marcus about your feelings. Missy wouldn’t drop it, you knew she wouldn’t. You could just get straight out with it - direct and to the point and lay all the cards on the table.

Or was that too direct? Should you hint some more; although that hadn’t gotten you very far either....fuck. Nope you were just going to have to do it once and for all.

“Marcus - I’m in love with you,” you tested the words out to yourself to see how they would sound. Your voice was a small, soft thing, but you couldn’t deny that you liked how they sounded. Deciding that it would just take some practice to get yourself ready to say the words to him, you repeated the words, “I love you, I love you, I love you. Marcus Moreno - I am in love with you.”

As you flipped on the kitchen light, you let out a small scream and almost dropped the bowls in your hands as you finally spotted Marcus. He was quick to your side and took the bowls from you, setting them back on the counter and offering you a sheepish, but soft expression. Nothing but horror washed over you as quickly came to the conclusion that he must have heard everything single thing you’d said.

“M-Marcus,” you fumbled over your words as he watched you with a soft expression, “I-I-I didn’t hear you come in, didn’t know you were back. I was just umm...playing around. Missy, she umm, I didn’t...ughh...Oh...this is...I didn’t mean it?”

“I got back a little bit ago,” he confessed as you hid your face in his hands; yeah, he’d heard everything, “I didn’t want to interrupt.”

“Listen, Marcus, I didn’t mean it, it’s just...Missy thinks that we’re in love or something, and I was just messing around...” it might have been the weakest lie you’d ever told and the look on his face said that he didn’t believe a word of it. If you didn’t know any better, you’d almost think...he was happy, “wait - you’re back? I didn’t expect you for another hour or so.”

“Left earlier than expected,” he admitted as he tried to still the wild beating of his own heart. He took a step closer and you swallowed the lump in your throat as you tried to not completely lose the remaining grips on reality you had, “wasn’t quite feeling it.”

“Oh?” you asked softly as he shrugged lightly, “w-what happened?”

“She wasn’t you,” he echoed Missy’s words from earlier as an involuntary smile crossed your features. Holy shit - was this actually happening? No, no, no, this must be all a dream, “I should have asked you to dinner. A long time ago actually. I don’t know why I didn’t. I guess Missy’s right, I’m just an awkward uncool dad.”

“Me?” you pointed at yourself as he laughed lightly and nodded, “why on earth would you ask me?”

“Why would I...I thought it was kind of obvious by now?” he tilted his head to the side as you looked at him with wide, innocent eyes, “I mean, Missy pretty much spilled the beans...”

“Wait, wait, wait,” you looked at him nervously, still refusing to believe that this was actually happening, “you like me? Me?”

Then he whispered your name, so softly, so reverently, so gently before reaching over and putting his hand gently on your cheek, “I’m in love with you.”

“Me,” you didn’t bother to try and hide your smile as he nodded, “I....yeah. Me too. Obviously. She’d been pushing me to tell you, but I didn’t want to...”

“Mess anything up?” he finished for you as you nodded, letting out the breath you hadn’t realized you were holding in, “me neither.”

“Sooo...” you trailed off and flicked your eyes back his, admiring the way the soft brown orbs stared back into your, crinkling in the corners as his dimple was on display, “ummm...I should...I should go since you’re back.”

“Is that really what you want?” he teased as you shook your head before laughing, “do you know what I want?”

“Ummm.... no?”

“I really, kind of want to kiss you,” he admitted as your heart blossomed with joy at his gentle words, “if that’s okay.”

“Yeah,” you bit your lip lightly, “I want that too.”

And then it happened, easily, fluidly, almost like you’d both been doing it forever. His hands found your waist as you tugged you close, your arms snaking around his neck as you leaned up to meet his kiss, His lips were plush and soft, and even better than you could ever have dreamed. It wasn’t some rough and brash tangle of teeth, with either of you fighting for dominance; no, this was slow and easy, intimate to its core and filled with nothing but longing and desire.

This was exactly what you’d always envisioned.

“It’s about time,” the two of you slowly pulled apart at the sound of her voice as you tried to find Missy peeking at the two of you from the foot of the stairs, “I told you both!”

Before either of you could say anything else, she darted upstairs and back to her bedroom, slamming the two shut as he pulled you close to him, wrapping his arms tightly around you. He chased your lips with his own, giving you a few more soft pecks before you grinned at each other like fools in love which, you supposed, you were.

“She’s too smart for her own good sometimes,” he sighed lightly as you touched his cheek, “but I’ll let this one slide.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Uh huh honey,” he whispered before kissing you again - it was already something he never wanted to stop doing now that he’d had a taste, “what were you saying about having to leave?”

“I don’t remember,” you teased with a kiss to his cheek.

“Stay?” he asked softly; it was a question that held a lot more meaning than just one night, or something temporary. You both knew exactly what it meant.

“Yes,” you promised, “I’ll stay.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

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#marcus moreno #marcus moreno x reader #marcus moreno x you #wcbh #we can be heroes #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader

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jayeeintheclouds-inactive · 3 years

Text

wake up, stop dreaming

(part 1 of empty thrones and heavy crowns)

Notes: angst, major character death, second archon war, adeptus reader, dying zhongli, dead xiao + other adepti, au where rex lapis still has his gnosis, geo reader, implied (very vague) past zhongchi, unedited i have a project due in 3 days and i have not started procrastination 101

Summary: When your beloved father dies, a part of you does too.

Baba: Father in Chinese

a/n: pls forgive me i can’t describe dead bodies or write angst properly. oh the woes of being illiterate 👍

Your father had graced the world of Teyvat with his presence for nearly ten thousand years, and you think that you should’ve seen this coming.

Screams and shouts of the people of Liyue fill the air continously, becoming a constant ringing in your ear. But that is not what you focus on right now.

“Rest,” You whisper with a sad but serene look on your face. In your arms lay Xiao, who has finally succumbed to the darkness he had battled for years. He is dying, and you know that. There is nothing you can do to help him.

“You’ve served Liyue for so long. Take your well-deserved break, Alatus.” Your voice trembles, yet you still put a smile on your face for him. He opens his eyes for the last time, and you watch helplessly as his amber eyes lose all light. There is an uncharacteristic smile on his face.

Slowly, you lift his body from your lap and lay it down on the ground, making sure to arrange his blood-stained hair in the most presentable way possible. Caressing his hair, you carefully slot a Qingxin flower between his broken fingers - two of the flower’s petals have fallen off, and the rest are crumpled and dried. You don’t care.

Just as Xiao’s body starts to disintegrate into blue particles, you place a chaste kiss on his forehead before his body completely disappears. You mutter a soft prayer for your fallen friend and fellow adeptus whose contributions to Liyue will never be forgotten.

You look around. Your heart feels empty, and even though you know why, you don’t wish to face the truth. Many of the adepti, like Ganyu and Mountain Climber have long ascended to Celestia. If you could turn a blind eye to the blood-stained mountaintops of Jueyun Karst, you would’ve almost fooled yourself into thinking that this was just another peaceful, tranquil day.

But then a chill runs down your spine, and that’s when you know something isn’t right. Instinctively, you teleport to your father.

That’s where you see your worst nightmare.

Rex Lapis, in all his pride and glory, is sprawled on the ground. His archon clothing is torn and bloodied; a huge gash is visible on his chest. What usually was neat and smooth brown hair was now tangled and spread on the floor, with burnt edges of his hair. Most importantly, his eyes are shut. They shouldn’t be.

“Baba!” You scream hysterically the moment you see his state, and rush over to him at once.

“No. No, no. No,” You mutter, your face drained of colour. Gently, you turn his body around with shaky hands. Rex Lapis in his human form groans softly, letting you know that there is still life in him, and you release a breath you didn’t know you had been holding.

But the hope doesn’t last long. Similar to what you saw when you were with Xiao, the light in your father’s eyes is fading.

He sees you, and he cracks a smile. Wincing, he raises his right hand to place it on your cheek. You hold it firmly.

“You... you shouldn’t see me like this...” He mutters weakly, still fighting to keep the smile on his face. You choke on your tears.

He continues. “How many years... have I been on this world?”

“Shut up. You aren’t dying,” You lie to him (and yourself).

He only chuckles, but coughs out blood right after. You try hard not to grimace or cry louder.

“I’ve finished all my duties...”

“No.”

“Both Celestia and I believe...”

“No.”

“...that is it time I step down...”

“No!”

He ignores your pleas. “Do you remember when you were a very young adeptus... you were too scared to... let my hand go...”

You squeeze his hand tighter against your cheek, staining it with your tears.

“I do remember. And I am still scared to let it go.”

Because I fear that if I let it go, you will be gone forever.

It’s like your father can read your thoughts. He takes your other hand that is gripping on his archon clothing tightly, and caresses your hand with it. You can feel how his fingers tremble ever so slightly, getting his blood on your hands. You pay no mind.

“...Your dad and I will be waiting for you.”

“No. You aren’t going. Not now.”

But you too think that it is finally his time to go. He has been on this world for so long - just how many years of suffering and grief has he endured? You don’t want to imagine. Both you and your father believe that he should be having his well deserved break in Celestia, but right now, you can’t help but selfishly wish for him to stay with you just a little longer.

His fingers start to lose grip, and you swallow a scream.

“I hate you, Baba.”

“...I know, and I’m sorry. I love you.”

“...Will you tell me what Celestia is like when you reach there? I want to hear your stories again.”

“...Of course.”

When he finally goes limp in your arms, a part of you dies.

It’s like you’re a robot. You can’t tell what expression you’re making right now. Is it grief? Is it denial? Is it frustration?

His cold dead body is still in your arms, and even though your brain is screaming at you, He’s dead, he’s dead! There’s no use! You are desperately searching for any sign at all that would provide you the littlest of hope.

But there is nothing. His body is cold, his limbs unmoving, and his heart dead silent.

You finally scream.

Refusing to let go of his body, you hug his corpse tightly to you. You can’t hear anything now. The screams and shouts of the citizens of Liyue sound like they know that their archon has fallen - but you can’t hear it.

A golden flower shaped like a glaze lily blooms from the ground, courtesy of your Geo powers. But even though you are the one who summoned it, you don’t seem to notice as its petals engulf the whole of you and your father. You are about to sleep for a few thousand years, until you can face the truth again; which is probably never.

So what if you are running away from reality? Your world is dead anyway.

a/n: holy shit this is a piece of trash lets hope the other chapters aren’t as bad. was the death scene too short? i’ll try to fix it when i have the time.

#genshin #genshin impact #angst #genshin angst #zhongli #adeptus reader #platonic zhongli x reader #i am addicted to zhongchi love child au #zhongli angst

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navegandoaciegas · 3 years

Note

You think Lee would seize the chance when his wife's niece (not his side of the family) comes to visit? He's never met her, since the family moved out of knockemstiff many years ago. I mean, that beautiful, 21-year-old would look magnificent coming around his fat cock right? It's all he can think about, especially since his wife won't touch him anymore. And that perfect young thing is right under his roof.

changed it to friend’s daughter bc i checked and what you asked for is incest by marriage (at least in my country)

Married men do it better

Summary: You heard from your roommate that no one does it better than married men in their 40s, and you decide to test out her theories on your dad’s best friend (smut, explicit language, typos probably)

You looked like shit under the bright mirror lights of the bathroom, drenched in sweat and sleep deprived. The faucet twisted with a squeak, and you relished in the cold water that soothed your burning cheeks, neck and chest.

The night was restless, like most were when you spent them someplace other than your home or your dorm. You’d tossed and turned for hours in the single bed that the Bodeckers have provided you with, in the room that had been designed to be their child’s but had stayed barren. Then you’d gotten up, and tiptoed to the bathroom, careful not to wake Mrs Bodecker next door or your parents in the guest room downstairs.

You splashed more water on you, sighing in satisfaction. Blindly grabbing a towel on the rack next to you, you patted your face dry, standing straight.

And when you opened your eyes, another pair looked back at you in the mirror.

You jumped in suprise, but the scream that threatened to rip out of your throat was silenced by his rough hand clamping shut your mouth. You still bumped against the sink, rattiling the products on it, but luckily none of them fell to the linoleum floor.

Lee Bodecker stood behind you, so close that for a brief moment you wondered how you hadn’t sensed his presence before.

You knew he’d come look for you, for your sweet words and warm body, like he had all nights since you’d stayed at his place. You’d felt bold, that first night, and palmed his cock through his work uniform while your parents and his wife chatted in the kitchen.

It was easy, riling up a man who hadn’t been touched by his wife in years and hadn’t felt affection or sweet nothings whispered in his ears in even longer. And to be honest, he hadn’t put up much of a fight, too enamored with you, a young, sweet thing, all doe eyed and pouty lips.

You’d heard from your roommate that no one did it better than married men in their forties.

Those frat boys you both fooled around with didn’t even come close, and she’d slept with an older gentleman already, and you couldn’t let her be too smug about the fact that you hadn’t.

You’d have to try it too, and tell her all about it when you’d go back to Denver in August.

Until August, though, you’d let Lee Bodecker have his way with you all night, every night.

“Hush, baby girl,” he chuckled in your ear, eyes boring in yours through the mirror, “don’t wanna go wakin’ daddy dearest, hm? He’d kill us both.”

You shook your head, and giggled in his hand, pressing yourself flush against his chest. His belly was soft and pliant on your back, and underneath it you could feel his thick cock, already hard for you.

He groaned, and tightened the grip on your sides. “Already so eager, you little minx.”

“Always eager for you, Sheriff,” you said in the most sensual voice you could muster.

He didn’t look like the boys on the Varsity team, with his chubby cheeks and double chin, but it didn’t matter to you. You liked men in all shapes and forms but something about Lee’s body made your pussy throb, and your thighs clench.

“Good girl,” he mumbled in your hair, nuzzling his face right behind your ear, “Do you want me, hm? You all hot and bothered thinking about my cock all night? Thinkin’bout how I make your pussy cry for me?”

A whimper almost escaped your lips, and you clenched your thighs, memories of all the things he’d done to you flooding your mind. He’d fucked you harsh, and then soft, and then he’s stuck a thumb in your ass, a place where you’d never though about sticking anything in, and then shoved his cock all up your tight rim.

It hadn’t hurt, surprisingly. Much less than losing your virginity with a dumb teen boy underneath the school’s bleachers.

He’d eaten you out like a starved man, had had you ride his face, and then he’d stuck his cock so far down your throat that you’d almost passed out.

You were a wrecked, sobbing, sticky mess after each encounter.

“Please Sheriff, need you inside me, need your big fuckin’ cock in my cunt.”

He smirked, one hand traveling up to your breast, the other roaming down your thigh. “You got a mouth on you, darl’. Dirty little mouth on a dirty little slut like you,” he hummed, smiling against your skin.

His hands were rough and calloused, and they left shivers behind as they grazed you with gentle touches you wouldn’t expect from a man so big and harsh.

He touched you like you were made of the finest china, and sometimes when your mind wasn’t clouded by lust, you felt sorry for him. You pitied him, all alone in a cold house with a distant wife that you suspected was seeing other men behind his back and that made him sleep on the couch most nights.

You closed your eyes, shoving your bleeding heart in a corner of your mind, focusing on how good his hands felt as the pinched your nipples, how pleasant his lips were on your pulse point.

He bunched your drenched nightgown at your waist, growling when he noticed you weren’t wearing any undergarments. He dipped his fingers in your glistening folds, finding you soaked, leaking for him.

“Always so wet for me, princess, all for me?” he whimpered, rubbing his aching cock on your ass, eyes squeezed shut.

“Only for you, Lee,” you whined, hips rolling against his lenght, desperate to feel him inside you, to have him fill you up with his fat cock.

He played with your clit, rubbing circles on it while he crouched around you and sucked one of your nipples in his mouth. You stared at the scene in the mirror, your body twisted around his, your tits spilling out of your nightgown, the golden band around his fourth finger gleaming in the light.

Your pussy clenched hard around nothing.

“Fuck,” you moaned, bucking your hips behind you to rub the flesh of your ass against his raging hard on, “I can’t wait Lee, I need ya inside me, now.”

Lee chuckled, shoving his pyjamas pants down his thighs, his big, leaking cock standing to attention.

“Won’t even lemme taste you, darl’? That eager, hm?”

“Please,” you whined, spreading your legs apart to give him better access.

He teased you, rubbing his tip through your folds, coating it in your arousal. He slowly pushed himself past your entrance, stretching you with his girth, sheathing himself inside you with a broken moan.

He stilled, giving you time to adjust as you panted and winced.

“God, you’re so fuckin’ big, I’ll never get used to this,” you breathed, slowly circling your hips.

His cock hit all the right spots inside you, sending jolts of electricity down your spine. You felt the pressure build slow but steady in your cunt, as he slowly dragged his cock in and out of your cunt, relishing in the way your walls gripped him.

He clamped a hand over your mouth, shutting your moans up, and kept hammering his hips against your ass, the slapping of the soft flesh of his belly against your back the only sounds in the room.

He hauled one of your legs over his forearm, spreading you even further for him. He hit a new angle, a new nerve that threatened to break the dam in you core.

He thrusted deep inside you, and you watched from the mirror the slow drag of his cock disappearing in and out of your swollen cunt.

He was sweaty and out of breath and judging from the pained look on his face was trying hard to will back his pleasure and his moans.

One wrong move, one loud sound, and you’d wake someone in the house, who’d come check on you. If they did, they’d Lee pounding into you and you enjoying it like the cockdrunk whore you were.

That’s what he liked to remind you, and you nodded, lost in pleasure, feeling the warmth and pressure in your cunt become unbearable.

“Fuck, I can feel you clamp down on me, princess. Wanna feel you cum baby, come all over my fuckin’ cock, I know you can do it.”

He doubled his efforts, rubbing your clit and pummelling inside you.

The thought that your parents could catch you made you dizzy, but the idea of his wife walking in on you pushed you over the edge.

You were glad for the hand on your mouth as you came, screams muffled. You gushed over the sink, and you both watched through lidded eyes the pressure in your cunt snap, knot unraveling, his cock slipping out of you with your release, just in time for him to paint your legs and the floor with his hot spurt.

You were both spent and satisfied, and you turned around, lazily throwing your arms aroud his neck. The kiss you shared was sweet and sated.

He tasted like lemon drops on your tongue.

You pulled back, adjusting the nightgown over your tits.

“My roommate was right,” you hummed, pecking his lips and brushing past him.

“About?” he questioned, brow quirking.

“Married men really do it better..”

He turned around to say something, anything really, but you were gone already, leaving behind the sweet scent of you hair and an enraptured Lee.

Sorry for the typos. I’m writing from my phone.

I hope you liked this. Please reblog and leave some feedback. I love reading your comments, and they’re my biggest motivation ⭐️❤️

#lee bodecker x reader #lee bodecker x you #lee bodecker x y/n #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan fanfiction #lee bodecker smut

917 notes · View notes

let-them-read-fics · 3 years

Text

Blackpink HC / One Shots: Enemies to Lovers, College AU (2/2)

Requested: Yes

Warnings / Misc. -- Bickering, Rivalry, Fluff

A/N: Hey everyone! This is the second half of the request, featuring Rosé and Lisa. If you want to see the first part, with Jisoo and Jennie, click the link below. I hope you enjoy!

Click for Jisoo and Jennie

♡ Happy Reading ♡

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

Rosé

Park Chaeyoung: The girl who hung with the wrong crowd.

Your problem lied more so with the people she associated with than her herself. You couldn't wrap your head around why such a kind person like her would spend time with the class clowns and bullies, and to make matters worse, she would stick up for them as well.

She spent most of her days in either the art or music room, creating the masterpieces that her brain came up with.

But as soon as school was over, she'd be hanging out with them again and getting into trouble. For instance, because of her talents, they would invite her to go with them and graffiti various hot spots around town. She never vandalized any monuments or landmarks of importance -- she typically stuck to bridges or abandoned buildings -- but after getting caught with them multiple times, it was inevitable for her to be held accountable.

She was given a week's detention to make up for her actions

You, coincidentally, had a teacher that absolutely loathed you for no reason at all. No matter how good of a student you were for him, he didn't care; he had a vendetta against you for some reason, and he patiently waited for the opportunity to ruin your day.

You came in literally 10 seconds after the bell rang, putting the breakfast sandwich you stopped to get on the way into your mouth so you could open the door. He was standing at the front with a smug grin on his face, and you already knew what was coming.

You were also given an ungodly sentence of a week's detention.

Turning Point

"If I see you on your phones, I'm taking them." The monitor informs before sitting at the desk, reclining in the chair and putting his feet up soon after. You sigh and lean back in your seat, attempting to find a way to pass the next two hours without getting in trouble. Your eyes scan across the room, eventually landing on Rosé, where she sits a couple rows away from you. Sunlight is streaming in through the window next to her, its golden rays peeking through the breaks in the clouds above to shine on her. She looks gorgeous as she doodles away in her notebook, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear when it falls in front of her face.

After waiting on the monitor to fall asleep and sending one last glance to double check, you quietly stand from your seat and go sit next to her.

You barely know each other, but she's your only hope of remaining sane and occupied.

"Hi," you greet, looking into her eyes.

"Hi," she copies, a tiny smile forming on her lips when she notices your impressed expression upon gazing down at her paper. You have to hand it to her -- she's really talented.

"You're really good," you compliment, still admiring the artistry. Seeing as how you're looking down, you fail to notice the blush that works its way to her cheeks. Coming from you, the simple remark meant a lot to her.

You spend the rest of the day making small talk and getting used to one another, leaving detention later with the hopes of sitting together again.

----

The Next Day

"Hi again," you whisper, glancing over your shoulder to ensure that the coast is clear. The monitor is out like a light, with his mouth hanging open and an obnoxiously loud snore coming out.

"Hi," she giggles, watching as you dive into the floor for cover when the man shifts in his sleep. You thought he was waking up, and if he finds out you moved seats, he'll definitely have something to say about it.

"The coast is clear, cadet," she nods like a soldier, assuring you that it's okay to move back after a minute.

"That was close," you breathe out in relief, glad to live to see another day.

You share a laugh, though it has to be hidden behind your hands and kept a minimum. It's cute though -- like a little secret between the two of you, only for you to know.

"What're you drawing today?" You ask later, laying your chin in your palm as you gaze down at her work. Her reply comes out stuttered at first when she feels your leg innocently brush against hers under the table.

"D-dalgom. My friend's dog." She manages out, mentally smacking herself for looking like a fool.

You smile, thinking she's adorable. "I bet it'll be great," you encourage. She grins back as her eyes scan over your face, committing the memory of you to heart. She's always had a thing for you, ever since the time you were paired up in Biology last semester, so she's been enjoying detention more than she thought she would. Seeing you makes the time go by faster, though ironically, she wishes it would slow down a bit.

You make her feel appreciated for more than just what she's capable of producing, and the divide between you and her friend group is blaringly obvious. They like her because of the rush she can help them achieve; you like her because of her.

That thought persists in her mind for the rest of detention, and before she knows it, the monitor is releasing you again. She bends down to put her notebook in her bag when a thought pops into her mind: she wants to ask if you want to go to the park with her. When she's done zipping her bag up, she looks back up at you, only to find you on your phone, talking to someone.

"Yeah, mom. I'll stop by on the way home. So milk, cereal, ramen, and paper towels, right?"

She watches as you wait for a reply, tucking the phone into the crook of your neck as you move to write the list down on a spare piece of paper.

"Alright, love you, too. See you later." You hang up before looking back at Rosie. She looks a little down, and you have no idea why.

You pause for a moment, silently psyching yourself up for what you're about to ask. "This is gonna sound really strange, but do you want to come with me to the store?"

Her heart's pace increases at that, happy to know that you want to spend more time with her, just as she does with you.

"Actually, yeah. That sounds like fun."

You grin at her before spinning around and doing a little celebratory dance, which wins you a strange look from the monitor. You stick your tongue out at him before grabbing her hand and rushing out of the room, hearing his disapproval shouted after you.

"Milk?"

"Check."

"Ramen?"

"Check."

"Cereal?"

"Nope."

You nod at her words, now reminded of what you were forgetting. You push the buggy towards the aisle of cereals, gazing around in wonder at the huge selection. Rosé is just the same, eyeing all of the options like a kid in a candy store. After grabbing your mom's favorite kind, you decide on one for yourself and bring it back to the cart. Rosie scoots her leg over, making room for them beside where she sits, reclined in the cart.

You grin when you see her eyeing a box of fruit loops. Huh; fruity. Go figure.

You wordlessly grab the box and hand it to her, feeling your heart melt when she looks up at you like you hold the key to the universe.

"Thank you, Y/N."

"No problem, Rosie." You say, putting your hands on the bar as you begin pushing the buggy again. "Now, I say we see how long it takes to get to the paper towel aisle. My last record was 30 seconds."

She looks at you, clearly impressed, with her eyebrows raised. Without question, she pulls her phone out and gets the stop watch feature ready to go.

"3...2...1... GO!" She shouts, commanding your legs to start pumping as you race down the long strip of store before you. A couple kids dart out of the way just before getting smacked into, quickly turning around and cheering you on as you charge forward.

Her giggles fill the air as you drift around a corner, shouting apologies to the lady you almost bumped into.

"Sorry ma'am!"

A few seconds later, chest heaving and legs sore, you come to a stop in the aisle, dramatically collapsing in a heap next to the buggy. Rosé checks her phone as she reaches down to poke you.

"22.18 seconds, champ," she declares victoriously, smiling when you magically regain enough energy to stand up and celebrate.

"Woohoo! Team Y/S/N (Your Ship Name) for the win!"

She laughs along at that, joining in on your celebration, but she's blushing like crazy on the inside.

-----

The Last Day Of Detention

Ever since your trip to the store, you and Rosé have grown closer and closer. You traded numbers and text occasionally, though nothing beats having her all to yourself for 2 hours straight with no distractions. She feels the same; when she's in class, she can't wait for the bell to ring and signal your reunion. Part of her wants to get in trouble again, just to see you more often.

So, as you'd expect, it's really no surprise that you're sat right in front of her again, telling jokes and asking about her day. You've grown a bit more bold with every step closer you've taken towards her heart, and now you reach down to intertwine your fingers with hers.

She happily accepts, even bringing your hand up to her lips to press a kiss to the back of it. She smiles against your skin after it, making butterflies take flight in your stomach. She's got you wrapped around her finger, and you don't even try to fight it anymore.

The sound of the classroom door opening alerts you, making her lower your hand. She doesn't let go of you, though, and that fact warms your heart for some reason. The squeaky hinges groan out again as the door opens wider, revealing about 4 or 5 people from the friend group that she hangs out with. They motion for her to sneak out with them, but she just shakes her head.

"Come on, Rosé!" They whisper-scream, offering her a way to freedom. Little do they know that she'd take this imprisonment over freedom any day, so long as you're by her side.

"No! Get out before he wakes up!" She whisper-shouts back, eventually convincing them to leave.

"Why didn't you go?" You ask once they're gone, toying with her fingers as your hands rest on the desk.

"Because I like spending time with you." She admits, letting her defenses down.

"I was hoping you'd say that," you smile, letting her know that you feel the same.

The Fallout

After detention, the two of you walked out of the school, hand in hand

"Would you maybe, I don't know... wanna go to the park with me?" She asks nervously, glancing up at you.

"You read my mind, Rosie." You smile at each other and head towards the parking lot.

You started hanging out more, and she distanced herself from her old crowd

You encouraged her to enroll in your school's art program and show her work that way

"You're really talented; it deserves to be seen."

Your support meant the world to her, and she never failed to let you know

"Thank you, Y/N. Having you behind me means the world to me."

At one of her art shows, where she was tasked with unveiling a new piece that she'd been working on for months, you got the biggest surprise of your life.

She created a mural of you, all decked out with every color of the rainbow, utterly gorgeous

She lit up when she saw your reaction

"This piece is titled 'Mine', which I hope the girl in it will soon be." She says into the microphone, looking at you with hope shining in her eyes.

You nod your head with a smile and walk up to her, pressing your lips to hers in a kiss that was long-overdue. She wraps her arms around your waist, pulling you in closer with her sweater-padded hands and kissing you again and again.

The crowd claps for you, happy to see such an ending.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Lisa

I couldn't choose between these two gifs so enjoy both for the price of one ^^^

Lisa Manoban: Cocky, smug, and self-assured. The dancer knew she was hot shit, and she wasn't afraid to show off.

You're all for people being confident and happy with themselves, especially when they're talented, but something about Lisa always seemed to rub you the wrong way.

Whether it be her lack of a filter or the arrogant swagger that she naturally exuded, you weren't sure. People wanted to either be her or be with her, but you fell into neither of those categories.

She always left you frustrated in one way or another, whether it be from her teasing or her witty comebacks

The teachers loved her, as did the students. She was the class clown, so her position was pretty sacred in the grand scheme of things

You, on the other hand, irritated her for other reasons. You were the only person she couldn't get to crack; you never gave into her charms, and it infuriated her to no end. She wasn't used to not getting what she wanted (as childish as that may seem) and having you, one of the most attractive girls at school, turn her down? Well that was a massive blow to her ego.

You weren't afraid to say your piece, and that both pleasantly surprised and upset her.

She constantly tried to flirt with you in class, but you knew it was all for the attention. She just wanted to make her friends laugh, which they always did.

"Y/N, come here babe. There's an empty seat next to me," she coos, batting her eyelashes as you walk in the door. It's a free day, so everyone is sitting with their friends, wherever they like.

"I'm good," you decline, deciding to sit against the wall beneath the large window of the classroom.

"Oooo, denied," Lisa's friends laugh at her this time, chuckling harder when she sticks her middle finger up at them.

"Yah, shut up," she says, nursing her bruised ego as she turns around and opens her phone.

You smile as you continue working on the homework you cracked open, scribbling an answer down onto the notebook paper in front of you. Your fingers glide over your textbook in search of the definition of the term you're on, and Lisa secretly watches from afar. Without realizing it, she grins when you light up upon spotting the answer.

Sometimes her flirting does work, though, and you turn into a blushing mess

*whistle* "Damn, Y/N. You're looking fine today," she exclaims, fanning herself. You worry that she doesn't really mean it, but when her eyes remain on you a second too long to just be friendly, you blush. She's taking in all of you, looking impressed all the while.

"Right back at you, Manoban." You wink, sitting down in your seat across the room. She lightly blushes back, though she does a good job of concealing it.

Considering you share a couple classes and the class sizes are relatively small, it was pretty likely that you'd end up paired together eventually

You weren't happy about it, especially not after the way she had acted that week. Her cockiness had been at an all time high as of late, leaving you frustrated and upset. She was so full of herself; all you wanted to do was wipe that stupid smirk off her face.

"Y/N, you'll be paired with Lisa," your photography teacher informs, pushing her glasses up higher on the bridge of her nose.

"But Mrs. Ta--"

"Pairings are final," she cocks her head at you, persuading you to give in. With a sigh, you respond, "Yes ma'am," and attempt to ignore the sound of Lisa's friends high fiving each other in celebration.

The Turning Point

"My parents are gone for the rest of the week..." she says, holding the door open for you as you carry in your equipment. A hint of suggestiveness lies in it; she's alluding to exactly what you think she is, and you push her shoulder upon realizing it.

"Knock it off, Manoban."

"Okay, okay," she chuckles, listening to you for once. The surprise is clear on your face.

She leads you towards the backyard, where you set up one of your highest power cameras and turn it on. You have to create a gallery of different photos, all under the same theme. You both agreed to do a time-lapse of the sunset, and take pictures of the stars after.

Once she makes sure that the timer is set correctly and that the auto shut-off feature is enabled, she motions for you to follow her back into the house. You do, and she leads you into the kitchen.

"Do you want a snack?"

"Sure, do you have any ramen?"

She nods, quickly busying herself by bending down and searching through the cabinets. After she finds it, exclaiming a pleased, "Aha!", she tells you to go get comfortable in the living room.

Three minutes later, from your place on the couch, you begin to smell something burning. You scramble up and rush to the kitchen, only to find Lisa running around like a headless chicken, attempting to put out the small fire she started.

"HOW THE HELL DID YOU MANAGE TO BURN RAMEN?" You shout, though your tone isn't angry. You're just very shocked, and loud about it. You push her away from the pot, albeit gently, and get the flames to go down relatively quickly. You turn the burners off and put the pot in the sink, leaning against the counter to recover from the adrenaline rush.

"Oops?" She asks more so that says, with a growing smile evident in her voice.

You shake your head and chuckle despite yourself, turning around to face her. "You can order a pizza now to make up for that." You point a finger at her, grinning stupidly when she presses the tip of hers to it.

"Your wish is my command, princess."

Thankfully you're already walking away as she says that, so she doesn't get the satisfaction of seeing you blush.

---

"Lisa, I can't keep going." You groan out, sweat dripping down your face. The pizza you ate earlier is giving you a stomache ache, paired with the physical activity you're doing.

"Y/N, just a little longer, we're almost there," she huffs out, keeping her movements steady somehow. You're a mess by now, so you don't understand how she's still going.

A couple minutes later, the TV in front of you lights up, saying, "Awesome moves! You win!" as you collapse to the ground in a heap.

Why you agreed to play Just Dance with her after eating is beyond you.

"Good job," she compliments, grabbing your hand to high five herself with it.

"Yeah, yeah," you roll over, catching your breath.

She lays down beside you as you recover, telling jokes to hear that laugh that she loves so much. She prefers yours over anyone elses, so it's always such a reward when she gets you to crack up.

"We should probably head up now," she notes, realizing that the stars will be coming out soon. You agree, and she carefully helps you up.

"Here, I'll carry you," she turns, bending down so you can get on her back.

"Lisa, you can't carry me," you brush off, feeling insecurity bubble up again like it always does when you're offered a piggyback ride.

"Y/N, I promise that I can. Trust me," she reassures, looking into your eyes sincerely.

"Alright," you sigh, standing onto the couch to get on easier.

"See?" She asks, sliding her warm hands up your thighs to keep you secured against her. "I've got you, babe."

You tuck your head into the space between her shoulder and neck, inhaling the sweet scent of her perfume.

"I'm gonna punch you if you drop me," you whisper, feeling her laugh against you.

"Fair enough."

-----

Later, On The Rooftop

"Careful," she instructs, outstretching a hand to help you climb out the window. Her camera hangs around her neck, and she takes the cap off of the lense once you're both safely sitting on the roof.

"Wow," you sigh, gazing up at the sky in wonder. Her house is far enough away from the city that you're rewarded with a gorgeous view of the stars, unburdened by the industrial fog that hangs over the cosmopolis.

"It's beautiful out here," you say, looking back at her. You tense up a bit, not expecting her to already be looking at you.

"Sorry," she laughs at herself, looking away once she gets caught admiring you.

"It's okay," you reach down and gently squeeze her hand, making her blush lightly.

"Let's get started," you conclude, pointing at the camera. She nods, knowing that she'd never get the assignment done if you didn't step in to tell her to (considering she'd rather admire you), and she points the device to the sky.

After snapping a few pictures, she lays back in order to get a better vantage point of one of the star systems. She hands it to you after she's satisfied with her work, and you take your turn with it.

She notices that you keep brushing your hair out of the way when it falls in your face, so she decides to help you.

"Here," she says, saddling up behind you. She gathers your hair up, running her fingers through it to neatly pull it up for you. Thankfully she always keeps a spare tie on her wrist.

"Thanks," you smile, snapping another picture. The simple act warms your heart; she's being selfless for once, and helping you without even being asked. It's a refreshing change of pace.

"You're welcome." She chirps, sitting back down beside you.

-----

Later, In Her Bedroom

"Oh, I really like that one!" She says excitedly, pointing at the TV. Her phone, which is connected via Bluetooth and automatically receives pictures of her choosing from the camera, is displaying some of your best shots.

"Yeah, you did really well with that. I think we might beat everyone else if we use that as our cover piece."

Your compliment makes her momentarily shy, and she quickly realizes how much she loves your praise.

The two of you continue like that, reviewing the different pictures and choosing your favorites. She always finds ways to compliment yours, noting your technique or the filter you used, and it always makes you smile. She's different than you're used to, and it's throwing you for a loop, pleasantly surprising.

---

Lisa steps out of the room to go to the bathroom a few minutes later, leaving her phone connected to the TV. A ding sounds out across the space, pulling your attention away from the stack of notes laid out before you. Your eyes dart up to the screen, reading the text message that appeared at the top of it.

Austin ⛓: "Dude, did you get into her pants yet? We're literally betting over here 😂"

You blink a few times as their words sink in, making your chest hurt. You were really beginning to believe that you had been wrong about Lisa; clearly, though, your instincts were right.

Feeling betrayed, you shove your folders back into your bag and stand from the chair, willing yourself not to cry. The sound of the sink turning on lets you know that she's almost done, so you hurry your movements and make your way towards the door. She steps out into the hall just as you exit her room, looking at you with wide eyes.

"Woah, woah, woah, what's going on?" She asks with furrowed brows, approaching you. One of her hands lands on your arm, and you shrug it off as you brush past her without another word.

"Y/N, did I do something wrong?" She asks from the top of her staircase, watching as you walk towards her foyer.

"Why don't you ask Austin?" You bitterly call over your shoulder as you turn the knob, slipping out the front door. She hangs her head upon registering your words, realizing what must've happened. She makes a mental note to give him hell when she sees him again.

Tears sting your eyes as you exit the house, wrapping your jacket tighter around yourself. You should've known something like this would happen. The chilly night air bites at your skin, stealing more of its warmth away with every step you take. The temperature doesn't change your mind, though; you're upset, and you'd rather freeze out here than be face to face with her right now.

"Y/N, wait!" She calls after you, blasting out the front foor. Her footfalls sound off behind you, announcing her rapid approach, but you don't turn around. Realizing this, she darts in front of you, keeping you from walking any further.

"Please, don't go. He's an idiot, Y/N."

"He might he an idiot, but that doesn't take away what he said," you scowl, clenching your jaw. "Betting? Really, Lisa?" You ask quietly, hurt evident in your voice.

"It was a stupid thing they tried to convince me to do. I didn't want to, but I couldn't stop them from talking once you and I were paired up. That's not what I want, though. I'm not just in it for that."

"How am I supposed to believe that? This is your M.O., Lisa."

"It's different with you, I don't know why." That's a lie; she knows exactly why you're different than anyone else she's flirted with in the past.

You stand there before her, silently weighing your options. After seeing the pleading look in her eye, her dark orbs full of sincerity, you relent. "Just take me home. We'll work on it another day," you compromise, allowing her in just enough to take you home, but not enough to stay at her place any longer. You're still weary after a text like that, and you will be for a while.

"Thank you," she breaths a sigh of relief, clasping her hands behind herself as you begin walking back to her house. She notices you shiver on the way, and she slips her jacket off without hesitation to cover you. Neither of you have to say anything; one glance from you is enough for her, and she's content knowing you're warm.

The Fallout

From there on out she was always honest with you and actually spoke out when her friends tried to do something stupid

She still remained the charming class clown that she naturally is, just getting rid of the not-so-nice parts of herself

You slowly let her regain your trust, little by little

She did nice things for you on the daily, whether it be holding the door, carrying your books, or offering to buy you some lunch

"Morning, Y/N. Wanna grab some breakfast?" She asks, moving her head to the side towards the café at the center of campus.

"Sure," you smile, laughing when she celebrates.

She invites you to her dance perfomances

When she goes to championships, you're always first on her list of invites

"I want you there." She declares, handing you the flyer.

"You've got it," you decide, knowing there's no where you'd rather be. "I wouldn't miss it for the world."

At said championship, she won the highest title and claimed victory for your school

You joined the rest of the team on the stage to celebrate, congratulating the solo dancer on her achievement.

"I'm so proud of you, Lis--"

She suddenly kisses you, clearly high off her win. She pulls back when she realizes what she just did, a worried look on her face.

"Shit, I'm sorry." She looks between your eyes, attempting to gauge your reaction.

"Get your ass back here," you order, feeling butterflies take flight when she eagerly presses her lips to yours again, wrapping her arms around you to spin you.

"Does this mean I'm forgiven?" She mumbles against your lips.

You squint, pretending to think about it. "Maybe... or maybe not."

Her subsequent gasp is quickly muffled by your kiss, which she can't seem to get enough of.

297 notes · View notes

forevfangirlwrites · 2 years

Note

Hiyyaa love ur writing got a prompt idea that could be cute. For the how we could have met series, annabeth enters a hair salon and percy's the hairdresser there and annabeth wants a big change (which ends up including percy as well as the loss of a her locks). Work ur magic if the prompt seems worthwhile, look forward to reading ur next work whatever it may be :-)

“Hi, I have an appointment.” The confidence in her voice doesn’t betray the turmoil going on inside, and for the first time, her collected nature bothers her.

How can she appear so calm when her heart is thumping so loud she can hear it in her ears?

“Annabeth Chase?”

Her name. Her real name. Not the name that could have been. It flows off the lady’s lips like the words belong together. She should have never thought otherwise.

“Yes.”

Once again, her voice comes out clear. It’s almost disorienting.

“Perfect, just follow me.”

Her heels click against the tile as she follows the lady into the salon. It’s a nice sound, a confident sound. It occurs to her that maybe this is how she managed it all the time. This almost-false bravado.

“Just have a seat, he’ll be with you in a sec,” the lady tells her. She thanks her before gingerly sitting down on the chair.

Her mind is still running a mile a minute, regardless of how still she sits. Maybe this cool exterior had even fooled herself.

The first thing to betray her true feelings is the jump she does at the sound of his voice.

“Hello! Oh I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you!”

He flashes a smile and meets her eyes in the mirror she’s facing. He’s cute. God, he’s cute.

Dark artfully messy hair sits on his head and fits his tan skin and deep jawline perfectly.

“I’m Percy” he introduces, still smiling. It’s a pretty smile. It almost hurts.

“Annabeth.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Annabeth! So what are we working with today?” He starts to flare out her hair, golden locks tumbling from where he moves them.

“You have gorgeous hair, by the way,” he adds, moving it so it frames her face.

Everyone always says that. He always used to say that. Her hair is easily one of her most defining features and she knows it.

Which is why out of all the things she’s had to do these past few weeks, this is the hardest. She looks at herself in the mirror, looking the same as ever and takes a deep breath.

“Surprise me.”

“What?”

She looks down, unable to meet his eyes in the mirror anymore “Do whatever you want. Just make it different.”

And finally, for the first time, there’s a tiny quiver in her voice.

Her chair is suddenly spinning around, she looks up to meet deep, beautiful sea-green eyes peering into hers.

“Annabeth…” He says her name like it’s meant to be said by him. “Are you sure?”

No.

And she’s never not sure. She’s never not the one in control. And though she might hate this with every fiber of her being, she needs to sit here and feel that hate.

She needs to let go.

“Yes.”

Percy looks at her like he doesn’t believe her. Either he’s really adept at reading people or her calm exterior is finally breaking.

Though she wouldn’t like if it’s the latter, another part of her is hoping for the crack. He’s still looking into her eyes as if he’s reading her.

“How different?” he asks finally, done searching her face.

She shrugs. “Whatever you want.” Even as she says the words, her mind screams at her for all the ways this could horribly go wrong.

In a cathartic way. She enjoys the anguish. Enjoys the hate and pain and all the raw, visceral emotions that she hasn’t felt in a very long time.

Perhaps that in and of itself is telling. Over a hair appointment, too.

“There has to be something off the table,” Percy pushes. Against every will, she shakes her head.

“You’re a professional, I’m sure you’ll do something good.”

Percy sighs, running a hand through his own hair. “I’ll try…but if you don’t like it…”

“I’ll still pay if that’s what you’re worried about.”

He cracks a smile at that, and she doesn’t know why she feels a sense of accomplishment.

“Alright then…if you’re sure?” He pauses, giving her a last chance to back out.

“Yes.” It’s slightly easier to say this time.

“Okay, just give me a second.” He spins her chair back around and walks off, leaving her to look at herself in the mirror again.

Her eyes look tired, slight bags forming underneath. Her hair flows down in long curls, framing her face and adding to the shadows. She automatically tucks a strand behind her ear out of habit.

This is the last time she’s going to see herself like this.

The thought strikes a chord of fear. That same cathartic part of her loves it.

Now this, this feels like a proper mistake. Not like the ones she’s made before, those weren’t mistakes. Those were just the steps you follow in life.

This is something she could really regret. And a part of her wants it, that same part that she’s never listened to as she’s followed the straight and narrow road through life.

Percy returns holding what seem to be a large black cardboard square that he places in front of the mirror. She watches herself disappear in an instant.

“Okay, ready? Last chance to back out.”

“I’m ready.”

KEEP READING ON AO3

KEEP READING ON FFN

A/N: Thank you so much for the prompt! It was a great chance to write a healing sort of fic! I hope you like how it turned out!

#how we could have met #percy and annabeth #percabeth #percabeth fic #percabeth au #percabeth fanfiction

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leucoratia · 2 years

Text

Through time and space

Pairing: Loki & The Tenth Doctor (platonic)

Summary: After letting go of the Bifrost, Loki’s adrift in space. Alone, hurt and broken, he’s rescued by quite a peculiar traveller who lost his way...

A/N: I also posted this fic on AO3 for those who prefer the layout!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/35998315

A/N: Golly. Well this monstruosity is finally done! @belligerentmistletoe this is for you, following the prompt “Loki and the Tenth Doctor from Dr Who”. It’s probably gonna be a two parter, but I was out of time for that one considering that it’s the holidays (I had to write the entire thing on google keep from my phone can you BELIEVE). Huge kudos to @worstloki and @call-me-half for proofreading this!!

I really wanna do a part two, kind of in Stellophia’s style in their AO3 fanfic “Through the Shards of a Broken Mirror” (go read it’s so goooooooodddddd), but ey writing this sucked the soul out of me because I procrastinated until the last minute (Well if it ain’t the consequences of my own actions). Later probably!!

Have a good read and merry late christmas!

Warning: angst, graphic description of injury, self-hate

Word count: 4 159 words

« No, Loki »

The words rang in the prince’s ears, as the realization dawned upon him. Yet again, he had failed. No matter the amount of resolve, of pain, of tears and flesh and blood he poured in his acts, it would all amount to nothing in the end. What a fool he was! A fool indeed, for holding onto the scraps and desperately trying over and over and over again to outdo the golden son, to receive even a shred of Odin’s love! To be anything else but a spare part, to try to escape the fate his monstrous genes had drawn for him the moment he first saw this world!

He couldn’t even call Odin 'Father' after this. He had tried, as an ultimate cry for help, but as always, there was nothing to be done. Nothing he could do was enough. He wasn’t enough, was he? He never was but a stolen relic, carefully hidden away from anyone, even himself, for who would dare to peel off his layers would see him as he truly was; a monstrous, foul, evil thing.

Vision blurred by tears, the jotün prince frantically searched the king’s face for something, anything that would dispel his thoughts, that would show him that he was wrong and that he was loved and cared for and that everything that happened these past few days was just a nightmare and that Mother Frigga would wake him up with a kiss on the forehead and cradle him and tell him it was okay and-

Silence.

Odin’s face was hardened as he watched his son his prize, you mean? hang on for dear life on Gungir. His disapproving gaze pierced the fallen prince’s heart deeper than any spear could.

This was it. He didn’t even have to think, for what to do next was clear as day. He could never escape the fates of his monstrous origin. Having failed to kill the beasts that plagued the realms and himself, the only escape left was to murder himself. He owned everyone this at least. This was his only mean of absolution.

Loki looked up to the stars, faced the king one last time, lips twitching into a not-so-smile.

And he let go.

Thor’s blood-curling scream rang through all space to hear as his brother looked down and confronted the wormhole. It was not long until not even Huggin and Muninn could notice a single flash of green in the deep, dark space. And in Asgard’s eyes, Loki died.

━━ ˖°˖ ☾☆☽ ˖°˖ ━━━━━━━━━ ˖°˖ ☾☆☽ ˖°˖ ━━

It was silent. Who would have thought that space would be voiceless? Loki always thought space made a sound, had a scent even! Every time he snuck away in the library to hide from the court, from Father Odin, from Thor, he would find himself nose-deep into scientific papers dissecting space, stars, black holes and celestial bodies. He read about the birth and death of stars, about super and hypernovas, about gamma-ray bursts; and he always thought space made a sound. Mother The queen would tell him that space sounded faintly like the forges of Niđavellir, and that sometimes, if you listened very carefully, you could hear the deep growls of black holes.

But even though the fallen prince put every fibre of his being into listening, the only sound that came to him was the subtle thrumming of his heart. As he entered the wormhole, he closed his eyes and let himself fall.

And fall

He fell until the silence was so loud he could hear his own blood coursing through his veins.

He fell until he could no longer scream and hate and cry and move.

He fell until his muscles grew thin.

He fell until he forgot how to speak.

He fell until he forgot himself.

He fell until he forgot how to think.

Adrift in the never-ending space, there was no more Loki Odinson, or Laufeyson, or Loki at all. There was just a boy. And he was hanging on by a thread.

━━ ˖°˖ ☾☆☽ ˖°˖ ━━━━━━━━━ ˖°˖ ☾☆☽ ˖°˖ ━━

“Just a moment! I’ll be back in a minute, tops!” was what the Doctor had told Rose as he pushed her out of the Tardis.

“You better, or I’ll come and get you myself!” she had answered in a disapproving yet fond tone.

Arms crossed over her chest, she had watched the blue box disappear, followed by its signature humming.

And so he was adrift in space, alone once again. It should have really taken a minute, all things considered. Just had to make a few adjustments to the old girl, take her out for a spin; maybe mingle with a few commands, who knows. The man out of time liked to have his monthly alone time with her. He adjusted his tie with a slight smile, laid eyes on the machinery and began working his magic.

But just as he pushed the dimensional shifter and prepared himself for the ever so familiar shake, he was met with a strong jerk of the machine.

Then silence.

“What?? What was that for??”

Wide-eyed, he bent over the board to look at the engine’s heart. Its blue core seemed dim, and smoke poured out of its joints and cracks. After fumbling for a few seconds with his coat in search of his glasses, The Doctor clumsily placed them on his face and dove nose-deep in the core, pushing buttons and yanking levers here and there. Fumes were fogging up his glasses, his hands were covered in grease, and he didn’t even know where to start.

“My my, what’s going on with you? C’mon old girl, tell me what I’m doing wrong”

The control panel vibrated faintly, as if it was trying to speak to its pilot. And yet, even though no words were spoken, after hundreds of years together, of course he’d get it….he would, wouldn't he?

He definitely would.

Eyes flashing in understanding, The Doctor pulled his head out of the machine to duck down under the core and reconnect some wires. With the utmost focus, he melted two of them together, hid some more in the reactor's depths, pressed even more buttons, got grease and unidentifiable fluids all over his face and hands in the process; and finally reached for the control panel to pull the dimensional shifter again.

Everything was normal. The Tardis' familiar rattle and whooshing was like music to his ears.

"See? I knew that I'd figure it out! Now, Allons-y!!"

He laid back against a rail and took a deep breath in, relishing in a job well done. Off to space! They were going to 55 Cancri e, a planet he wanted to bring Rose to. He talked about it once, briefly. Quite a small planet, its main particularity was that it was entirely made of diamond. Although the traveler didn't personally find any wonder in this feat, for diamond gets quite old after a few thousand years (humans, such strange yet fascinating creatures), Rose had shown such marvel in the discovery that he just had to see that smile again.

Nothing too crazy this time, they'll never put feet on it anyways since the surface was about 2,100 degrees Celsius. This was just a safety trip, to make sure that nothing dangerous was wandering around the planet.

He really should have been back in a minute.

But The Doctor was wrong. This time, he didn't quite get it.

Just as he was about to put his hands back on the control panel, he fell right next to the Tardis door and smashed into the wall, knocking his glasses off his nose. It took him a second to register the fact that his ship had turned upside down, and another second to fall face-first into the opposite wall as the box started spinning like crazy, growing and shrinking over and over and knocking the Time Lord around like a dollar store ragdoll. The only sounds he could articulate were shrieks and muffled groans of pain as he was mercilessly thrown around by the spinning ship.

The Tardis had gone positively mad. Lights were turning on and off, sirens were blaring, steam was coming out of every possible tube and he could swear for a second that he could hear water coming out of the pool and drowning the corridors.

"Ooh this is bad. Bad bad bad-" He muttered before being interrupted by a rail promptly shoved in his stomach as he fell miserably on it.

In his daze, he managed to grab it and hang on to it for dear life, as the best he could do was wait it out. He really, really started regretting going for this solo trip after all.

━━ ˖°˖ ☾☆☽ ˖°˖ ━━━━━━━━━ ˖°˖ ☾☆☽ ˖°˖ ━━

The worst had passed now, and the Tardis felt steadier by the second. Finally, The Doctor fell back on his feet in a loud "OOF!", and tumbled back to the control panel, which was still oozing smoke and beeping loud enough to pierce more than a pair of eardrums.

"God...now THAT was NOT nice. What was that for?? I hope you have a good explanation for that one because YOU look like you just got shot by a Dalek, and I suffered the fallout!" He grumbled accusingly, pointing an angry finger at the console while patting his bruised face with his free hand.

Noticing he had, once again unsurprisingly, lost his glasses in the madness (not that he particularly needed them anyway, but he had always thought that they made him look smarter), he squinted his eyes at a screen which was displaying unusual readings.

"What?? What are those about now??" He said, tapping at the screen lightly hoping to fix whatever seemed to be wrong with it. But they didn't budge.

"Photon quantity is normal, gravity is abnormally low for the area I'm supposed to be in, celestial bodies in the area...zero?? Whad'ya mean zero, that can't be right." His eyes widened in surprise and searched the screen for anything that would erase his suspicions. But the numbers stared at The Doctor, bright and bold. He was completely alone in this part of space. The Tardis didn't even detect the smallest asteroid, not even the most microscopic speck of space dust.

Incredulous, he made his way to his machine's door in hopes of being wrong. Picking up his (broken) glasses along the way, he threw the door open and faced...nothing.

Where the diamond planet supposedly stood, there was nothing. As the Tardis read, he couldn't even see a single asteroid.

"Where in the world did you bring me to?" He wondered to himself.

The man out of time stared out into the emptiness for a few more minutes, out of disbelief. Maybe he was hoping to see something, who knows, to indicate where he was, for the Tardis apparently wasn't in the mood to give him that kind of information.

Hands resting in his pockets, with blood smudged on his face and clothes all roughed up, he sure was a sight to see. Eyes fixated in the deep, the Doctor was profoundly focused.

He had travelled, for sure, but he grew wearier and wearier by the second. Something was...off. Even though most of the readings were correct, he could sense that everything felt out of the ordinary, though he couldn't quite pin it down. It felt like coming back inside your home and seeing that everything had been slightly moved, just enough to be noticeable to the trained eye but looking otherwise completely standard.

Staring down the darkness a final time, he was about to turn away when the Tardis' voice blared in his mind, static and wrong.

"Unknown object approaching at approximatively two hundred thousand kilometers per hour.

-What??", he shouted in surprise "How big is it? How close?

-Four hundred kilometers. It will pass by in approximatively nine...eight....seven..."

Wide eyed, he searched the emptiness for the asteroid.

At seven seconds, he began to notice a green shape. Maybe a rare kind of space stone?

At six seconds, he noticed flashes of gold and began to be able to trace out its shape.

At five seconds, he saw for sure four lanky limbs, a head and a torso...the asteroid was human-shaped?

At four seconds, he concluded the green was a cape and the gold an armor.

At three seconds, he was certain that the "asteroid" was indeed a human.

At two point five seconds, in his panic, he urged the Tardis to opens the doors wide, move the control room out of the way and bring forward the deepest pool they had.

At one point eight seconds, the Doctor jerked out of the way and ducked behind the open doors.

At zero seconds, the falling human tore right through the Tardis and crashed in an ear-deafening sound into the water.

"What the hell..." cried out the traveler as he tumbled back up, closed his ship's doors and started running at his fastest towards the pool.

He ran as fast as his feet and the moving corridors could carry him. Although the water was made to ease the fall as much as possible, he had very high doubts about the person's survival. At such inhumane speeds, getting out alive of such a fall would simply be a miracle. And he had learned not to believe in miracles anymore.

As the man finally arrived at the pool, he heard nothing but the ripples of waves. He didn't see the one he just rescued gasping for air, nor floating on top as a regular corpse would, no.Bending down, he noticed the castaway laying in the deep, surrounded by the pool floor's rubble that he had destroyed in his fall.

"No, no, no no no no don't do this to me buddy. Come on, come on!!" He shouted, staring right into the water.

Hope drained out of the Doctor's face seeing the scene before him. The man's already incredibly thin body horribly twisted, bones poking out of his arms and legs, face deeply cut and dark red tinting the water all around.

The traveler tightened his hands on the pool's rim until his knuckles grew white and gritted his teeth together until it hurt. He was so close. So, so close. His guts twisted and he felt sick to his stomach. He was such an idiot. Water? Seriously? Even a preschooler knows that at such insane speeds water has the density of concrete, obsidian even! It was his fault as always. Maybe if he had thought of something better, something else to ease the fall, the man would have survived. Maybe if he made the Tardis create a room full of feathers! Or pillows! Or silk! Or moss! Or-

"No. That can't be right. Don't.", he murmured softly. "Don't do that. Don't give me hope."

But he was right. This time, he could swear on Gallifrey, even on Rose, that he saw bubbles coming out of the dead man's mouth. Little one yes, but they kept coming out at a pace only breathing could create. This could only mean one thing.

While entering the Tardis, the man had breathed, and he had lived. His castaway was alive.

The Doctor didn't even have to think twice. With no consideration towards his coat, his shoes or even his dear sonic screwdriver, he dove head first into the water and swam towards the man. As he tore through the water, he utilized the Tardis' telepathic abilities to ask his ship to prepare a med bay. He had no time to bring the terribly wounded man to a proper hospital. This was now or never. The medical skills he had obtained throughout the centuries would have to be enough. He just wouldn't be able to forgive himself if he failed the man once again.

He swam like a madman, wanting to spare every second; and after what seemed to be forever, he reached the bottom. The Doctor could see the man more clearly now. It shocked him to see how young he looked. He must be what? Twenty? Twenty three at best. And even badly bruised, emaciated and on the brink of death, he looked princely. He probably was royalty now that he thought about it, no commoner would be able to afford such obscene amounts of gold, much less golden armor.

"Who cares. Doctor, Doctor, act now, think later." He thought to himself as he scooped the castaway's limp body in his arms.

He rested his feet on the bottom and jumped, propelling himself high enough into the water to only have a few meters to swim through. Indeed, he thought, one of the perks of belonging to a millennial and extremely advanced extraterrestrial species were the many abilities that set them apart from the common spaceman. Or space woman. Or space person-

Yes. Yes. Priorities. Save the boy-king. Talk later.

After a few more seconds of struggle, he finally reached the top ad gasped for air as he ruptured the water. As he difficultly walked up the stairs and extracted both of them from the water, he tried his best to keep the man's head up and held him as gently as he could.

"Man, you're heavy", he said, struggling, "wonder where you're hiding all that weight!" The strain in The Doctor's voice was palpable as he put all of his will into placing one foot before the other.

Around them, the Tardis was moving to accommodate a quicker route. The metal walls were rolling, as they were suddenly illuminated by soft indigo lights, and he could feel the floor pulsing under his feet. As disorienting as it could be, he kept going steadily. One left, a right, another right, another left, and straight towards the med bay...at least he thought so. Poking his head though the door and almost falling down with his new guest, he was relieved to find a make-shift bed in the center of the room. As he crossed the final meters keeping them from the bed, he shot a quick glance at the man in his arms. He seemed to be breathing, although faintly, his face, painted in crimson, was paler than a dead man's, his hair was matted by blood, his entire body drenched in ice-cold water, and The Doctor would have preferred not to look at his terribly broken limbs. Glancing at the splintered bones poking out of his arms and legs, tendons and muscle still attached to them, he felt like he was about to retch.

Finally, he laid him down onto the bed.

"Gimme a quick scan! Species, data, everything you can!", the man out of time ordered his ship while kicking off his now bloodied and wet cloak, and picking up his sonic screwdriver. He pointed the tool at the sleeping man and scanned him. Tossing the screwdriver aside, he began freeing him from his (huge, broken and so, so heavy, good lord) armor. Every single part came out with great struggle, as he tried his best to be delicate and not harm the rescued even more.

Boots, chest plate, arm covers, overshirt...

"What is this, a French pastry??"

This human had such an extravagant taste in fashion. As the man finally laid in only his undershirt and pants, the Doctor was interrupted by a screen's strident beeping. Ah, yes. The scan. He almost fell down, tripping on his own shoes, as he rushed to the screen, grabbing it with both hands and nearly pressing his face onto it.

As he read, his eyes gradually widened in incomprehension and shock.

"Height, one meter and ninety-one centimeters...weight, two hundred and fourteen kilograms....heartbeats per minute, twenty-three...species unknown? Well that's gotta be a problem.", he muttered, annoyed. From a quick glance at the scan, he could vaguely guess that the man wasn't human. Maybe a related species? Well, it would have to make do.

Walking back towards his bloodied guest, he rolled up his sleeves, grabbed his sonic and put on a pair of latex gloves. Time to get to work.

━━ ˖°˖ ☾☆☽ ˖°˖ ━━━━━━━━━ ˖°˖ ☾☆☽ ˖°˖ ━━

Loki was falling. Or was he? He must have been. The last thing he remembered was his free fall in the depths of space. He remembered thinking that in his misery, he was lucky that the last thing his living eyes would see would be space's dark beauty. He must be in Helheim now. He felt himself crack a smile. He hoped his daughter would be happy to see him, for they had been apart since Odin had made her queen of the dead. Even now, after hundreds of years, he still missed her, and all of her brothers and sisters, dearly. Odin had seen fit to cast out his monstruous, hideous children; for anything born of monsters such as Loki and his lovers could only bring ruin to the realm. He remembered the pure agony that followed their loss, and how he was broken in pieces smaller than a speck of dust when Tyr had bound Fenrir.

Truly, it did seem that Odin greatly relished in seeing him hurt.

A thought suddenly struck him. He didn't hear Gjöll's water flowing, nor the whisk of dead tree branches against the realms rocks, nor even the footsteps of the dead. Instead, he heard more of a...soft humming? He also came to realize that he felt his own weight again, felt his bones, his flesh, and a new, blinding pain that radiated from his entire body. He felt light and he felt heavy at the same time. Everything was tight. His body felt caged in something that wrapped around him almost completely

His fingers felt something soft, and his face was warmed by some sort of light.

Maybe he wasn't dead after all. Pity, he thought. Even that he had failed. Loki, King of Nothing and Prince of Monsters, was so incompetent he had failed to meet his own demise. He felt like laughing. Such a pathetic thing but to keep living. What had he, waiting for him? Power? Not a chance. Family? Preposterous. A place to belong? He lost it the second he discovered his true heritage. Truly, the Not-Prince was condemned to rot while battling himself forever.

He chuckled at the thought. Maybe he was indeed King of something, the King of Misery. King of Pitiful things.

As soon as the sound escaped his lips, he heard something (or is it someone?) fall, yelp I pain (definitely someone then), tumble back up while cursing under their breath, and rush to his side.

"Hey, hey, hey buddy, are you awake? Can you hear me? You made a pretty bad fall, caught you just in time!”

He opened his eyes.

There was someone next to him. He was tall, with short and unruly brown hair, sideburns distasteful truly, and a drenched and bloodied light blue shirt rolled up at the sleeves. Loki disregarded the man questioning him who kept blabbering about falling and rescue and bruises, and looked around. He didn't recognize his surroundings. He was laying in a makeshift bed in what seemed to be a med bay, a highly unusual one, that is. The walls were what seemed to be metal panes drilled in many medium sized holes, black and red cable was running all around the walls, ceiling and floor, and a soft yellow light was passing through the walls.

"Hey, hey, come on! Can you hear me? Are you paying attention?", said the man, tapping his shoulder.

Loki jerked to the side, immediately regretting it for it has caused immense pain to course through him. He hissed in pain, causing the odd man to profusely apologize.

"Sorry, sorry, so sorry, didn't mean to hurt you. Can you hear me?

-Yes, I can hear you.", Loki snapped, although the words came out sloppier and weaker than he wanted them to be. His voice felt like gravel in his throat, and he broke into a fit of cough which only accentuated his general pain.

"I'm the Doctor. I sorta...found you while traveling. Who are you?"

It took him a moment to respond. Who was he? Prince of Asgard? Rightful King of Jotunheim? King of Nothing and Prince of Deceit? He settled on one thing

"I am Loki.

-Well Loki, it looks like you're gonna spend some more time with me".

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