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miedei · 3 years

Note

AYUMIE PLS FIND YOU IN OUR DREAMS IS SUCH A MASTERPIECE OMG 🥺 YOUR TALENT IS OVERFLOWING 😩‼️ also can i request h from soulmate alphabet + jake from enha? i think it'd be such a concept + with your top-tier writing... I AM CRAVING SIM JAEYUN CUDDLES AND YOUR TALENTED WRITING, I WILL DO ANYTHING 💳💥

hearts beating together.

gn!reader × jake soulmate!au, fluff, friends to lovers, mentions of itzy's ryujin, itzy’s yuna, stray kid's jeongin, nct’s chenle

word count: 1.7k

aaaah thanks so much for liking it you flatter me too much oml <33 this was such a fun request i hope you like it!!!

send in a letter + an idol/character and i'll write a little about it! my request guidelines are on the link in my bio

warning(s): swearing, mentions of food, petnames used platonically(?)

h...eartbeats (the soulmates share the same heartbeat—when one feels panicked, shocked, tired, etc, the other can feel it too).

your heart confuses you. it races when you relax, slows in the worst of times. a heartbeat bond is strange and uncomfortable at times, but the rush of excitement you feel when your heartbeat changes is incomparable to any other feeling. but of course, it has its downsides.

"...left leg on the ground, right leg bent, stretch out those muscles," of course your soulmate is getting into a stressful situation just as you're trying to relax. you press pause on the yoga video and flop onto your bed. you’re so excited to meet your soulmate, but the way they’ve messed your plans up so many times, you’re looking forward to giving them a good punch too. you focus on the ba-dump, ba-dump of your heart, like it could somehow lead you to the person behind it. huffing out a sigh, you pull out your phone, shooting off a text to your groupchat with your friends

RYUJIN’S HOES

sent: are any of you free? my heart person’s being an asshole so i may as well go out

delivered, jeongin: well shit sucks to be you i’m at work with my SOULMATE

sent: fuck right off

sent: ryujin jake chenle please

delivered, ryujin: i’m omw to practice but you can come?

delivered, ryujin: i know you have swim after just hang out till then

sent: YES THANK YOU BABE this is why i’m only ryujins hoe smh

“get in loser!” ryujin is pulled up in front of your door, watching you scramble to not drop your bags. you run down the driveway, waving goodbye to your parents as you slide into the passenger seat.

“god you’re such a lifesaver, whoever’s attached to my heart has it out for me” she chuckles, completely used to your rants about your soulmate. she hasn’t found hers either, but her soulmate has a much less intensive schedule, so she’s not very bothered by her bond, although, the pink-haired girl next to you is an athlete, so her soulmate is probably just as aggravated as you.

the ride to the school is short, and you find a parking spot quickly, so you’re out on the football field in no time. ryujin’s teammates are already on the grass, adjusting uniforms and stretching. she joins them quickly, changing inside and running out. you take a seat on the benches lining the field, settling in to watch them play. your heart is still pounding, but watching the others play, you don’t notice it as much.

the boy’s team is playing one field over, so you can watch them as well. familiar faces dot that field too, and because they let out before the girls, you get to talk to them while waiting. chenle and jake plop down next to you, teasing you about your obviously heaving chest.

“you all worked up watching the games?” chenle nudges you from his side, the feeling of his sweaty shoulder making you shudder. “as if. my soulmates running a marathon or something, like they like to do every day,” jake twists his face in sympathy, "well you've got practice in a bit right? give them a taste of their own medicine!"

"yeah, you know what? i will! thank you jake, for being a good friend," you speak pointedly, gesturing towards chenle. pushing yourself up off the bench, you walk towards the changing rooms near the pool, yelling out a goodbye to your friends.

changing quickly, your walked out to the pool, greeting your teammates with a smile. time for some payback. tugging on your fins, you dove into the water, relishing the instant comfort it gave. following your coach’s orders, you, along with the rest of the swim team, start swimming laps around the pool. half an hour in, your heart is pumping, and the fact that you were the cause for it makes it so much more sweet. friends have begun to line the sides of the pool, yelling out encouragements and teases. you can easily spot the soulmates of the people swimming with you, their chests heaving, but big smiles on their faces. ryujin, chenle and jake are sat near your lane at the leftmost side of the pool. the three of them, still sweaty and tired from their practice, watch you swim, happy grins on their faces. an hour or so later, you are doing a few mock races, and jeongin has joined them too, his usually teasing visage now smiling with pride. you streak through the water, enjoying the burn in your arms, feeling the exhaustion through your bones in a way that swimming only gives you. you reach for the edge of the pool, and it’s coming closer, closer, until you feel it, slippery on your soaked skin. your friends jump up, yelling out in excitement, filling your heart to the absolute brim.

“alright y/n, good job! you can go change, see you next time,” your coach calls out to you, signalling for you to climb out of the water. your friends swarm you, words of happiness and congratulations surrounding you.

“you did good, fucker,” ryujin ruffles your hair. “now go shower and cool down so you can do that in the actual races,” chest heaving, you flash a huge grin at them, “be right back! i’ll meet you in the parking lot!” they nod their assent, and you begin to walk to the showers, barely catching chenle say something.

“jake, are you really still tired from football? you’ve been panting for ages.”

hours later, you find yourselves in your usual post-practice spot, the local diner near the school. chatting and laughing, you lose track of time around the point when your fries arrive. jeongin regales you all with stories of the crazy customers he dealt with at work, and ryujin gives you the rundown of all the drama that happened in her football practice(seriously, how do they even have time to kick the ball around when so much is going on??). you get that heady feeling of pure happiness, when you’re not thinking or worrying about anything, just paying attention to the amazing people you get to surround yourself with.

you only snap out of that headspace when chenle looks down at his smartwatch(rich boy) and lets out a noise of surprise.

“it’s 19:42! i need to go, fuck,” he begins to clean up his stuff and lays down money for his meal. the rest of you follow suit, appalled at how long you’ve been sitting in this booth. all the money is on the table, and you rise from your seat, ready to go home.

“ryujin, can you drive me home?” you hold the girl's arm, pleading with her so that you won’t have to walk. she opens her mouth, ready to speak, but then she hesitates, a look of mischief crossing her features.

“okay-” you rejoice, pumping a fist in the air, until she goes on: “only if you can beat me to the car. okay 3,2,1 GO!” she starts sprinting, long legs bringing her halfway across the parking lot in no time. you let out a groan of exhaustion, and start pumping your legs to follow her.

by some miracle, you reach the car at virtually the same time, doubling over to hold your knees in your worn-out state. ryujin, in between her attempts at gulping down air, tells you she’ll take you, and you wait for the rest to reach you.

jeongin, chenle and jake walk leisurely up to you, starting to say their farewells. you straighten up, grabbing first chenle, then jeongin into a hug. they yell out some more goodbyes as they walk off to their cars, when you hug jake.

for having just walked here, his heart is racing. why? you focus your hearing on his heartbeat. it’s almost as if he sprinted here. pulling your head away from him, you look up at him, voicing your concerns.

“are you okay? your heart’s beating really fast.” he frowns at you, and presses a hand to his heart. you follow suit, feeling the thump, thump, thump of his chest. it feels familiar. why do you feel so used to this heartbeat? confusion ripples through your mind, until it clears, with a feeling of shock. you know this heartbeat. you know it because it’s your own.

grabbing his other hand, you place it over your heart. his face twists with surprise, and then an emotion you’re not familiar with crosses his features. he pulls you back into a hug, excitement so evident that it’s crossing over to you. jake is your soulmate! which a choked laugh, you pull him impossibly closer to you. he tucks his head next to yours and whispers in your ear.

“it was always you, wasn’t it?”

bonus:

you pull back from the hug, your smile dropping into a serious face. he looks in confusion, as you rear your arm backwards. you push forward, landing a punch in his gut, and he stumbles backward with an ‘oof’

“that was for never letting me rest!”

“YEAH GET HIM!” ryujin yells from her seat in the car. the only thing she’s missing is popcorn, a whole-ass soap opera just happened in front of her.

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gojcsatoru · 3 years

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Hello, there. Glad to see you write for jjk. I read some of your works. I really like it. Can I get a hc for Satoru, Yuuji and Megumi? Like their s/o taking care of their wounds after they come back from mission or just a normal practice. By the way thank you. Feel free to put my request aside. I don't want to burden you. Take care, stay safe, and have a nice day 💕 -🍰

HCS for WHEN HE GETS INJURED

tag(s): fluff, descriptions of injuries but nothing graphic!

GOJO SATORU

gojo’s a little pissed that he even got injured since he’s “the strongest”, but the cursed spirit he was fighting was seriously overpowered

anyway, since you’re around... well. he might as well make the most out of being injured, right?

he returns to jujutsu tech with a massive gash running down his arm

you instantly drag him to the infirmary and start disinfecting the wound yourself when you see ieri busy handling another sorcerer

“baby,” he whines, sitting on the cot. “it hurts.”

but he’s grinning

he’ll say things like:

“i need something sweet to get me through this pain... c’mere. gimme a kiss”

“yeah that cursed spirit got me here but you should see the damage i did to him” (poor baby’s ego’s been bruised lmfao you better take care of that too)

one second he’s trying to play up the pain, the next he’s all “can’t even feel it” make up your mind oml

anyway gojo’s really touched by how seriously you’re taking care of his wound

it makes him fall even harder for you because you’re being so careful and loving and tender... he’s not really used to this treatment, being the strongest and all

(it’s nice being pampered by someone who loves you)

after ieri takes care of the rest–– and she has to because it’s like a two-foot long gash down his arm–– gojo wraps his good arm around you and takes you out for dessert

“thank you,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your temple. “you’re the best.” and then because he just said something super sappy, he adds, “and i’m the strongest. we’re the perfect pair.” LOL

ITADORI YUUJI

you and itadori are on a mission when you’re ambushed by two grade-1 cursed spirits

you emerge relatively unscathed–– a few scratches and bruises here and there, but that’s the spirits were targeting itadori anyway

he’s worse for wear: he has deep cuts all over his body and you think you heard a bone break during the fight

“stop,” he grits out when you rush over and try to get him to sit down. he scans the area with wide eyes. “we’re not safe here. we have to keep moving.”

even while he’s injured he’s still prioritising your safety awww

and he’s stubborn as hell so you know it’s useless arguing against him. he bears the pain for another hour before you return to your makeshift headquarters at a hotel

by the time you’re in your room, his clothes are soaked in blood

“no,” he mutters, pushing your hand away. “i can do it myself.”

“let me, please.” you look at him with so much love and concern that he just lets you do it

you have cut his clothes off and wash all the dirt and grime off his body

itadori hisses as you disinfect the wounds and dress them

“does it hurt?” you ask, trying to be more gentle

“just a bit.”

you kiss every wound after bandaging it up, hoping it’ll bring a smile to his face

(it does)

and by the time you’re done splinting his broken arm, he's so tired that he's about to pass out

“i love you,” he sighs, falling back onto the mattress

“yuuji! careful,” you scold, rushing over to check if he messed up his bandages

but he just grabs you with his good arm and tugs you down onto the space beside him

“shhhhh,” he laughs softly. “can we just lie here?”

FUSHIGURO MEGUMI

when you find fushiguro nursing an ice pack around his head on the steps by the track, you know he’s been sparring with the second years

“did you get your ass handed to you by maki again?” you ask, taking the seat beside him

“shut up,” he huffs. “i didn't get it handed to me.” and it wasn’t just maki he was sparring. but he doesn’t tell you that :/

you bump his shoulder playfully, but he lets out a pained groan and his hand instantly goes to his stomach. it actually looks like he’s about to hurl

“megumi,” you say sternly, crouching down on the step below him so that you’re facing each other. “are you hurt there, too?” you point at his stomach

at first he denies it because he doesn’t want you thinking he’s weak

but then you poke it lightly and he groans and folds over

“lift up your shirt,” you murmur

megumi does as you say, knowing he’s been caught. and then you see the massive, dark bruise over his abs. and then he moves his foot and you see that he actually has another ice pack behind his legs–– one that he was hiding

“why aren’t you icing that?” you ask

and that’s when you see the way his other hand, the one not icing his head, has been bandaged so that he literally cannot hold anything

“oh my god.”

“yeah.”

without a second thought, you grab the ice pack and place it to his abs. “you’re so stupid,” you laugh. “you could've just asked me to help out”

“i didn’t want to bother you,” fushiguro replies

you kiss his cheek and rest your head on his shoulder. “not possible. you’re never a bother to me.”

“thank you,” he whispers, feeling warmth spread all over his body from your words

and the two of you just sit on the stairs, icing his wounds until the ice has melted and the sun has begun to set

#gojo satoru x reader #itadori yuuji x reader #fushiguro megumi x reader #gojo x reader #fushiguro x reader

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icollectyoursins · 3 years

Text

Kira Yoshikage x Fem!Reader Hand Fetish First Time NSFW

Anon said: "Ok but I love your work oml. Could I request a nsfw KiraxReader? Something where she and Kira have had a kinda vanilla sex life up until now, but during sex she decides to take control and realizes Kira has a hand kink and is actually into it? With lots of praise for her and degradation for him if possible 👉👈"

Once again, tumblr tried to screw me over with this one. Wrote 700 ish words, saved and then wrote another 400-500, clicked somewhere on my mouse pad and it closed the draft. I was nowhere near the close button. Tumblr. Do better. Auto save posts. And then my browser closed out of nowhere while I was trying to rewrite it. Fun, am I right?

Wanna know what I’m willing to write? Rules here!

Have a character, but no idea? Prompt list here!

Looking for more? Master post here!

WARNINGS: Mostly sweet kisses, breast play, hand fetish/kink (both parties), praise, oral (cunnilingus/vaginal and hands) choking (Kira receiving as well as reader at the end), degradation, teasing, riding, cream pie.

Word Count: 1523

Gentle lips trailed down your body, leaving kisses wherever they could. A light gasp left your mouth as they press into your soft breasts. Kira hums in appreciation, using his thumbs to massage into your hips. He wraps his mouth around your nipple, tongue swirling around it. You arch into his touch, letting out a pleasant moan.

Satisfied with the state he’s left you in, he lifts his head up, bright blue eyes looking sweetly into yours. You bring your hand up, cupping his cheek, watching him seemingly melt into your touch. More kisses were placed on your palms and fingers, gradually getting more feverous with every passing moment. You chuckled. He’s always been a little weak to your touch, it was sweet really.

You couldn’t count how many times you had watched him get distracted from whatever he was doing as your hands drift over his sides, wrapping your arms around him in a hug. Or how often he came home from work, clearly stressed about something. Without fail, you would walk over to him, gently brushing your delicate fingers across his cheekbone. And without fail, he would lean into you, lavishing your hands with gentle kisses until he felt better.

Though, it never quite lasts as long as you wanted. Kira’s kisses had always been special, but when your hands are in his; when his lips are brushing against your palm, there’s a rush that surges throughout your body. He always seems to notice this and cuts things off before you have the chance to make sense of the wave of feelings. You begin to wonder what would happen if he stayed. What would he do?

Your mind begins to wander as he continues to decorate your palms with his lips, gradually moving down to your collar bones. You feel his hips roll into you, sending you further into your fantasies. Images of his mouth wrapped around your thumb, enveloping it in warmth. A moan dances over your lips. The image changes to him cleaning something off your palm, but it’s only there for a minute.

“You’re so good, (Y/N).”

He breaks you out of your daze, moving his attention lower and lower until he’s hovering above his genitals. Kira places a delicate kiss above his prize before diving in. His tongue licks a long stripe up from the bottom of your vag then up to your clit. You keen, lifting your hips up into his mouth.

“Don’t move, (Y/N)-that’s it. Stay right there. So beautiful.” His voice is barely above a whisper as he kisses into your plush thighs for a moment, basking in the warmth of your skin. His lips return to your wet folds. Your hands run through his blonde locks, careful not to mess his hair up too much. The hum he lets out vibrates throughout your body, encouraging him more.

Kira’s eyes roll back into his head as your fingernails graze against his scalp, setting his nerves on fire. His hands dig into your hips a little more rough than he normally would, attempting to shift his focus to something other than your hands. He knows his nature all too well and has been trying to avoid it, not wanting to lose you just yet. The grip on his hair gets tighter as he hits a nerve in you, one finger slipping in, pushing on your sweet spot.

“Oh!” You cry out, not caring about his hair anymore, just wanting him to- “oh! There! Yes, yes, yes!”

The same dialogue is running through his mind as your hands tease him more, threatening to push him over the edge. His boner is almost painful now, pressed into the mattress. He moans again, losing himself in the moment all too quickly.

Suddenly, he pulls back, practically throwing your hands off him. Too soon. Not yet.

Kira catches his breath while you catch yours, avoiding your gaze. You lean up, bringing your hand back to his cheek. The desperate moan he lets out surprises both of you, wrapping his hand around yours. His breath is heavy. You’re so soft. So warm.

“Kira?” You whisper his name. Very rarely have you seen him like this, so riled up. Normally, he would leave, but your touch has him under some kind of spell. What would happen if you push him a little more? The images of him from before return to you, hanging in front of you, tempting you. You graze your thumb over his lips, testing the waters.

A desperate, breathy moan rips through his throat and he leans in further, holding your hand close.

“Do you like that?” You ask.

“Oooh~ yes,” he moans. You think for a minute, then decide to turn the tables.

“Get on your back,” you order, gently pushing on his neck, forcing him to lean back.

“What.” He looks at you a little perplexed, but there’s something in his eyes, some kind of spark that urges you to go further.

“I said-” you drove him further back, letting your voice drop into a more serious tone “-get on your back.”

He complies, hands drifting to your hips, helping you situate yourself on his lap. God, what a temptress you were, turning him on like this. You rocked your hips back and forth, teasing the tip of his cock with your slick folds. He loved it. Your hands squeezed a little more, watching his eyes roll back in bliss. You don’t know what came over you two, but you were thankful. Not that your sex life was boring by any means, but seeing him so-

“Uuuhnn!~” He moans loudly, matching the movement of your hips.

Submissive. It makes you wish you had done this sooner.

“Not so fast, dear.” You coo, brushing his cheek with your free hand. “Be good for me and stay still, you can do that, right?”

“Yesss.” Kira hisses. Control was what he did best, of course he could stay still. You moved your hand again, this time, gently raking your nails down his chest and he moans loudly again. Maybe he couldn’t control himself. You were so close, mere centimetres away from pushing him over the edge. “M-mooorrre.”

Your thumb glides up his chin, settling on his bottom lip. He opens his mouth, expecting you to put it in, but you don’t.

“More? Tch, greedy.” You smile down at him, slowly replacing your thumb with your index and middle finger. “Open.” He obeys eagerly.

With your free hand, you reach behind you, positioning his cock at your slick entrance. Slowly, you slide your fingers into Kira’s mouth. At the same time, you spear yourself on him, relishing in the way he stretches you perfectly. You both moan at the combined feeling, basking in each other’s warmth. His tongue swirls the underside of your fingers, setting your nerves on fire.

His fingers dig into your thighs, nails no doubt leaving crescent shapes in your skin. The confidence he had in his control was quickly fading the more you pushed your digits into his mouth. You rolled your hips forward, equally losing yourself in the newfound pleasure. Why hadn’t you tried this before? The feel of your fingers, enveloped in warmth affected you more than anticipated, leaving you with an ache in your core that was quickly satisfied by his length pushing into every sweet spot you had.

You wanted more. You bring your unoccupied hand to his throat again, watching his eyes roll back into his head.

“Do you like this, Kira? Do you like when I take control like this?” He groans under you, unable to contain himself. “Who knew you could be tamed this easily? I would have done this sooner if I had known it would have made you such a mess.”

That was it. That was all he needed to break. Your hips rocked just so, causing you to slip, pushing down on his neck more. Kira saw white as he pinned your hips to his, keeping you still while he quickly unloaded himself in you. Slowly, you pulled your hands back, watching his face as he came down from his orgasm. He seemed to be stuck in a perpetual state of bliss as you massaged circles into his collarbones.

Finally, he came back to you, satisfaction painted all over his face. He traced a delicate finger over your cheekbone before cupping it in his hand. You nuzzled into it, basking in the warmth. Then, his thumb trailed over your lower lips just like yours did before. You enjoyed it for a moment, then realized what he was doing, shooting him a shocked look. Playfully, you try to pull away, not wanting to get trapped, but he was too quick, grabbing hold of your neck and pushing you back while he sat up.

He was still between your legs as your back pressed into the mattress. Kira’s eyes seemed a little darker now.

“Did you really think you’d get away with that, (Y/N)?” He pressed his lips into yours, biting the lower one gently. You had a sneaking suspicion it was going to be a long night.

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thenotsofantasticlifestory · 4 years

Text

Baby Madness

Killer x reader, Kid Pirates, Pregnant!reader

Warning: Cursing and confused Kid

Word Count: 4.1k

A/N: This started as a silly drabble oml

++++++++++

Killer wrapped himself around you, even with the swell of stomach his long arms circled all the way around. These moments were rare, sitting quietly in bed and just basking in each other’s presence and warmth. A slight twinge of pain shot through making you flinch and Killer quickly jerked his head up.

“You okay?” he asked. Being so close to your due date he’d been even jumpier than usual. Every twitch you gave had him dashing to your side ready to go.

“It’s fine, I’ve still got another week,” you said, rubbing his arms affectionately. “I’ve read that false alarm contractions are pretty common as you get closer.”

You could feel Killer’s whole body loosen as he settled against the pillow, setting his chin back onto your shoulder. He still looked a bit nervous as he said, “If you say so, but if you feel anything else you tell me immediately okay?”

You turn and pressed a chaste kiss to his cheek, “I promise Noodle. Besides, we’ll be at the next island in a day or two. We’ll find the doctor there and everything will be fine.”

He nodded against your shoulder, arms tightening just enough to give a slight pressure without squeezing the baby, “Okay, everything will be fine,” he repeats, almost more to himself than to you. He’d been very precise with the navigator that when your labor started, you’d all be settled on an island with a doctor and not giving birth on the ship. The Victoria Punk was a majestic boat that had survived several battles but it was certainly not the hygienic, safe environment in which to bring a newborn infant.

“It’ll be fine,” he murmured again.

+++++

“You have the stopwatch with you right?” Killer asked as he readjusted the helmet on his head. It’s morning now and he knows there’s plenty of duties he needs to get done, more so if he wants to get ahead of schedule enough to dedicate all his time to you at the next island.

“Yep, really Killer I’m telling you fake contractions are very normal,” you said. Killer had been tenacious in his studies as soon as he found out you were pregnant, bringing back piles of books and reading them through with you, sometimes making notes and underlining important topics in the pages. It was really very sweet but it had also quickly become overbearing. You knew he was just worried though, if anything you’d swear he was the one having a baby, not you.

“Okay but if you feel it again, time it, and if it’s five to seven minutes-“

“I’ll come and find you immediately,” you finish for him. “Killer don’t worry so much, we’ve got it all planned out.” You reached up to place a peck against his mask, his hands going to your stomach subconsciously. “Go be first mate, get stuff done. Me and the little munchkin will be here resting up.”

Killer sighed as his shoulders slumped in defeat, “Yes babe.” He’s worried true, but right now his heart feels full, the woman he loves carrying his child, things he thought he’d never have in his life and he’s thankful for them every day.

+++++

You were settled in comfortably, reading one of the dozens of baby books that littered the nightstand. There had been a couple more ‘contractions’ and it was a little odd to be having this many so early. Checking all the chapters on early labor hadn’t made you feel much better, but your pregnancy had always been on calendar. You were practically a text book example, hitting each new checkpoint exactly when the books had said, so labor would still be a week away at least.

The rumble that came from your belly pulled you from your thoughts, it had been a few hours already since Killer started working. Maneuvering awkwardly to your feet, you padded from the cabin down the hallway toward the kitchen. When you had reached your door, a sharp pain split through your abdomen. That definitely wasn’t hunger, were fake contractions supposed to be that strong? You shoved the worries aside, chalking it up to the hungry baby inside you.

Heat and Kid were doing dishes in the kitchen, well, Heat mostly as Kid halfheartedly dried them. You were considering what to get for a snack before another contraction hit, this one strong enough to stop you in your tracks.

Oh, something was definitely wrong.

You clutched the side of the door frame as another splitting pain shot through your abdomen. Heat turned to look in concern, your groan drawing his attention. Sweat was beading on your brow and before you can catch your breath a sudden pressure dropped onto your lower back. Warmth spread and the sound of splashing reached your ears as your eyes widened in horror.

“Oh fuck…” Heat murmured.

Kid turned now too, only to make a face of disgust seeing the water spilling from your body, “Oh my god, did you just piss all over the floor? That’s fucking disgusting!”

You take a steadying breath before spitting back, “My water just broke you asshat!”

“Oh,” is all he manages, face dawning into comprehension as Heat rushed to your side. He throws down a dish towel on the spill and helps you into a chair.

“I’ll get Killer” he says as he rushes out.

Kid looked completely at a loss now, dishes abandoned as a very pregnant woman was still slightly dripping on the chair, and visibly trembling in pain.

“Uh- “he started, “Um, what should I- do you need anything like-“

“Kid” you cut him off mercifully, “just come here and hold my hand.”

“Yup,” he practically jumped to your side, careful to avoid the now damp towel on the floor and grabbed your hand with his human one.

“Just this?” he asked.

“Yes, just that.”

You settled down slightly, starting into the breathing techniques you and Killer had practiced countless times. In and out, in and out, long slow breaths. Kid fidgeted next to you, unsure how to help, and found himself talking again in an attempt to lighten the tense atmosphere.

“So uh, how long do I need to do this? You just like,” he made a vague motion with his metal hand, “pop it out right?”

“Kid.”

“Yeah huh?”

“Just, just shut the fuck up and let me breathe.”

Kid was saved from snapping back by Killer who nearly slammed into the doorframe to catch himself. He’s panting hard, even through the mask, with Heat right on his tail.

“Is it happening!?” he demands.

Kid turned to his friend, more than happy to pass off this responsibility, “I think so? I mean one second she’s fine, the next sh-shit ow!” the audible crack of finger bones breaking startles him as you squeeze his hand through a particularly intense contraction. Kid’s cursing nearly drowned out your own pained moan before he slammed the metal hand against the table.

“Fuck let go! I’ve only got one good hand left!” he screamed. As the pain passed you release his hand, which he yanks to himself, shooting a glare at you. Killer replaced him in a second, shoving Kid to the side much to his annoyance.

“How long between contractions?” he asked, voice frantic but obviously excited.

A few more calming breaths, you hadn’t really timed yourself this time but it seemed like the was a decent gap, “Not sure…I think, eight minutes? Maybe?”

He’s already whipped out his own stopwatch, “Okay, just let me know and I’ll time it, how are you feeling? Is it bad yet?”

You can’t help but chuckle in relief, Killer really was prepared for anything, “It’s bearable, we’ve still got some time-“

“Are we going to ignore that you crushed all my fingers just now?” Kid demanded.

Killer’s mask whipped around, ready to reprimand him, but you place a hand to his shoulder, wordlessly backing him down. You turned to Kid and locked eyes with him.

“Listen to me very carefully,” you said, and Kid flinched at the seriousness of your voice.

“I don’t think you understand what is happening right now,” you said, “What I’m about to do is essentially the equivalent of shitting a watermelon and even before that happens, even before I shit a goddamn watermelon Kid, I get to sit here and feel my insides rip themselves open slowly for at least six hours. And it’s just six hours if I’m lucky. So do you really wanna bitch about your bruised fingers right now? Right now?”

Kid opened his mouth but couldn’t find anything to say before closing it again with a stupefied look on his face. After about a minute of absorbing this horrifying knowledge he just nods his head.

“Okay, fair.”

With Kid metaphorically on board, Killer returned his attention to you.

“So it’s really happening now?” he asked.

“Her water broke,” Heat added.

“Are you seriou-NNfgh!” Killer flinched as you squeezed his hand, another contraction, but he starts the stopwatch, keeping a diligent eye on the timeface despite the pain shooting up his arm. Behind him Kid snorted, seeing Killer now on the receiving end of your iron grip.

“How long till we reach the island?” Killer choked out.

“We’ve still got at least nine or ten hours, we weren’t expecting to hit port until tonight,” Heat said.

The tension in your grip fades as the contraction passes and Killer slumps.

“No, no that’s not gonna work,” you said, “we need to get there sooner.”

“Well, I mean- “Heat stumbled, “let me check with the navigator.”

He leaves, and Killer takes your hand in both of his now, stroking gently, “Babe, maybe we should get a space here ready too, just in case?”

His voice was gentle and coaxing, but he’s unsurprised when you reject the idea, “Absolutely not. I love you but we will not have our baby in the same place where Kid left a rotting body for three days just to prove a point to Heat.” You pointed to the very clear outline stained permanently into the floorboards.

“Oh yeah,” Kid snickered, “I won that fucking bet too.”

Killer sighed, scratching at the head of his helmet in frustration, “Okay well, shit, okay,” He rises and starts to pace, “I guess we just have to wait? Can you make it that long?”

“Yeah, It’ll be fine, we’ll be there before you even know i-augh!” the pain cuts you off as Killer clicked the stopwatch.

“Ten and a half minutes,” he said, “Gives us some time but it’s not a lot.” You nodded, attempting to get to your feet before plopping back into the chair, sending both Kid and Killer with hands out to catch you if necessary.

You waved them off, “Kid, go grab some of those baby books, they might have information how to slow this down.”

He grumbles but rises, striding from the room.

You call to him, “They’re in the top nightstand drawer!”

“Yeah, yeah I know,” he calls back.

+++++++

You sat for a while, Killer stroking your back and holding your hand as you continued into the breathing techniques. The time between contractions, while still at least ten minutes apart according to Killer, felt far too short before a fresh wave of pain rolled over you.

You weren’t sure how long the two of you stayed before Heat returned, looking slightly relieved and holding something behind his back.

“Well?” Killer asked.

“The wind’s in our favor so we dropped every sail we have, as long as it stays that way, we can probably make it there an hour or two earlier than expected.”

Killer groaned, but you squeezed his hand in encouragement.

“It helps but it’s still a ways away,” he said.

“We don’t have a choice,” you said, “I can make it until then.”

“By the way,” Heat shifted awkwardly, pulling out what was behind his back, “wasn’t sure when to give this but a couple of us wanted to make a baby blanket.”

It was thickly stitched with patches of various color and design, but it was soft, and you tear up, “This is so sweet! Where do you guys find the fabric?”

He scratched at his head, “Some civilians of the last island ‘donated’ them to us.”

“‘Donated’?”

“Well, from their clothes. That they were wearing.”

Killer inspected a corner of a patch, “Is that blood?”

“Yeah don’t worry, that’ll wash out.”

You held the blanket to your chest, “It’s perfect, thank you Heat.”

Heat flushed, mumbling something inaudible, clearly not used to the attention. Killer turned to him.

“Hey did you see Kid?”

Heat straightened back up, “No I thought he was here with you two?”

Killer scratched at his helmet, “The hell, he was just supposed to grab the books.” He turned to you, “just wait here, I’m going to see what he’s doing.”

+++++++

He managed to find Kid, sitting cross legged on the floor with his nose buried in a book. All of the baby books were scattered around him, lying half open or tossed haphazardly. Kid’s head snapped up, hearing Killer enter, and his face looked absolutely haunted.

“Dude, have you read this shit?” Kid asked.

“Yes, several times. Kid what are you doing? You were supposed to bring the books back.”

Kid placed the book down, eyes still wide and he looks as though he’s aged ten years, “I mean, holy shit?” he said, “I-… I’ve seen some pretty nasty stuff but that is just-it’s…” He shuddered, unable to voice the trauma of what he’d just read.

Killer sighed, nudging Kid with his foot as he gathered up an armful of books, “Just come on already.”

“I mean what the fuck? People do that? Why can’t they just, I don’t know, lay an egg or some shit?”

“You know that’s literally how you were born.”

“Still,” Kid said, “it’s fucking gross.”

They returned to the kitchen where you and Heat were engrossed in conversation over the blanket. He was pointing to a square of blue cloth.

“That one actually came from some rich dude at the last port, so it’s probably good material.”

“What about this one?” you gestured to a pink square with an elegant pattern.

“Oh yeah, that guy was a dick.”

Kid wordlessly rushed forward, clasping your shoulders in his hands and staring down at you now with the sympathy of a fellow soldier holding a dying friend.

“You’ll be okay, we’ll get that thing out of you,” his voice was more serious than you’d heard it before.

“I- Thanks?”

Kid nodded in resolution, giving your shoulders a soft squeeze before he let go. Killer had dumped the books on the table and was flipping through them.

“Shit,” Killer said, “there’s a lot of ways to speed up labor but not to slow it down,” he gave the last book an agitated slam shut.

Kid looked around the kitchen, visibly searching for ideas, “How about we get her drunk?”

Two smacks, one from Heat one from Killer, followed immediately upside Kid’s head. He cursed loudly and rubbed at the sore spot.

“Fine! Fuck! I’m just trying to help here! What about food?”

Killer smacked upside his head again, more on instinct than anything, before he paused, “…Actually that’s not a bad idea.”

“Fuck you!” Kid screamed.

You groaned, food sounded like the least appealing thing as your stomach swirled and you said as much.

“I think at this point,” Heat said, “we just have to stay distracted long enough to get to shore…”

With the sun still high in the sky, the idea of waiting that long was impossible, but Heat was right, there wasn’t another option.

+++++++

By the time the sky was just beginning to darken, those hours had felt like the longest in your life. Contractions were now four minutes apart and Killer had become increasingly frantic with no sight of the island in sight.

They had managed to kill an hour with Kid reading through his hit list, featuring occasional explanations on why a particular person was going to die exceptionally slowly, until Killer had decided discussing murder methods probably wasn’t great for you or the baby.

As your contractions grew in pain and shortened in rest time, the kitchen was echoing loud groans of pain every few minutes. Kid kept a wide berth from you, protecting the few human fingers he had left, as Killer took the brunt of your crushing grip. During a particularly rough minute, Killer, needing some way to alleviate his own pain, gripped Kid’s shoulder, effectively creating a train of pain. Wire had appeared in the doorway, alerted by the screaming of you and Kid, but seeing what was actually happening, turned around and left before he could be pulled in.

After what felt like a lifetime the merciful cry of “Land!” was heard, and you could’ve cried with relief.

+++++++

The Victoria Punk nearly crashed into port in its haste as the dead of night was broken abruptly by lanterns lighting and men shouting from the ship. The town was clearly prosperous, you could see it in the pristine white walled houses that lined the cobblestone walkways. A place like this would normally be a prime target to loot and burn, but there were more pressing matters at hand.

Kid leaped from deck to shore before the gangplank had been pulled, followed by Killer carrying you bridal style.

“Watch the ship! We’ll be back!” Kid called to whomever was within earshot on board.

As the two men sprinted down the street, spurred on by your increasing groans of discomfort, both come to the realization that neither knows where the other is going. The houses are nearly identical and mostly likely residential, with tall trees and manicured gardens blocking sight of the roads ahead. Kid swerved to the nearest house, banging against the front door hard enough to splinter it, “Wake up! Where’s the doctor? We got a delivery!”

When the door looked ready to crack in two, its opened by a very disgruntled and sleepy middle-aged man, who took one look before screaming.

“Eu-Eu-Eutass Kid!”

The door slammed shut, followed by several clicks of locks.

Kid turned with a satisfied smirk, “Look at that,” he jerked a thumb at the door, chest puffed in pride, “I’ve got some reputation here.”

“Kid!” you and Killer demanded in unison.

“Right, yup, shitting a watermelon.”

At the next house, Killer pulled back Kid before he approached the door, “Let me this time.” He set you gingerly to the ground, making sure you were steady on your feet before knocking more politely. After a minute or two, a bedraggled looking young man opened the door. His eyes shot open as he processed the men and woman before him and motions to shut the door, but Killer is quicker, planting a foot in the entrance to hold it open.

“Listen,” he grabbed the man by his silk robe before he can run, “my girl is about to have my baby, we just need to know where the doctor in this town is.”

“Y-You can’t t-tell me what to do, pirates!” he’d admit, this guy had some guts, but Killer was in no mood. He was about to unleash a scythe to help make him talk before your voice caught his ears.

“Look here buddy!” clearly you were in no mood either, “I am crowning as we speak, so either you tell us where to find a doctor, or I hike up my dress, squat down, and have the baby right here on your goddamn lawn!”

If it were even possible, the man’s eyes widened more, a hand to his mouth in horror. Lights from neighboring houses were beginning to flicker on to see what the commotion was.

“O-Oh- “the man muttered, “Oh no- no no no! Do not do that!”

“I’m gonna do it so help me!” you screamed.

“She’ll do it,” Killer reiterated.

“Where’s your fucking doctor!?” Kid bellowed from the sidewalk.

A loud groan of agony ripped from you, and seeing you reach down to gather up your skirt, the man finally snapped to action.

“Okay! Okay, just, don’t do that!” he grabbed your hands away from your clothes, but released them immediately seeing the deadly glare Kid had sent. Hands raised in submission, he continued, “the doctor’s not far, just go down the road here and-“

A large solid metal hand clasped his shoulder and cuts him off. The grip is anything but friendly as Kid’s lips stretched into a manic grin.

“Oh no, you’re gonna take us there buddy.”

Even in the lamplight, the man’s skin has dropped three shades paler, “I-I…”

Once Killer stands behind him, trapped between these two wanted pirates, he knows he doesn’t have a choice.

+++++++

When they reached the doctor’s house, said physician, a wrinkled little old man of at least sixty, saw the pained look on your face and the straining swell of stomach and immediately pulled you in without question. With a strength surprising to his age, the doctor had pushed back Kid and Killer, keeping them in the adjacent room while he phoned to a nurse and got you settled. Your unlucky escort had managed to slip away in the chaos, most likely returning to the safety of his home.

Kid and Killer now sat awkwardly in the small quaint waiting room, the nurse having already arrived and sounds of increasing discomfort echoing from through the door. Killer had his helmed head in his hands, knee bouncing erratically as Kid tried to find something to say to help his friend. Another cry ripped from the doctor’s room, making them both flinch. Kid fiddled with the metallic end of this prosthetic fingers as a thought dawned on him for the first time.

“Killer…you’re gonna be a dad.”

Killer barely muffled the snort that left him as he picked his head up, “Did you just now realize that?”

“No! I just- “he struggled around for the right words, “…it’s all gonna be different now, won’t it?”

“Probably.”

Kid’s eyes returned back to his hands; brow furrowed. The silence between them stretched, broken only by the carnal noises that came muffled through the other room. Killer looked toward his closest friend, head still bowed in thought, and agreed in his head. It would be different now, as soon as he walked through that door and met this new child that would become the center of his life, things never would be the same. Even their day to day sailing that seemed so simple would change. And he realized now that Kid was thinking the same thing.

“Kid.”

He grunted in response.

“It’ll be different but, in a good way.” Killer said, “just think of it like…getting a new crew member.”

Kid barked in laughter, “A useless crewmember.” Killer shot him a look, “Sorry,” Kid continued, “you know what I mean.”

Killer sighed and rested his head against the wall behind him.

“At least they won’t be alone,” Kid said.

Killer turned to him, though Kid kept his face down, but he knew what he meant. He remembered how hard it had been growing up alone and on his own, and how things had gotten just a bit easier after meeting Kid. Remembered how hard it was even with the two of them, just to get by and put food in their stomachs, to not get mugged or killed, and even if something happened there would be no one to mourn that loss except the other. But this child, they wouldn’t have to know that suffering, the pain of trying to sleep in the freezing night while your body cried out for food and warmth. They would never be alone or abandoned like them. Kid met his stare now; his eyes were deep in some long-forgotten memory.

“No,” Killer said, “they won’t. Never.”

Kid nodded, a silent promise.

The moment broke when the door cracked open, the doctor’s wrinkled face peeking through, “Which of you is the father again?”

Killer sprang to his feet.

“Come with me, you’ve got someone to meet,” the doctor said and returned into the room.

Killer moved forward but sent one look back at his friend before he walked through the door. Anyone else wouldn’t see the slightest tremor in his arms, but Kid wasn’t anyone.

“Go on,” he gave Killer a lop-sided grin, “go meet your new brat and be gross with Y/N.”

Even through the mask, Killer’s grin could be felt, “Thanks.”

283 notes · View notes

justsomevoltronstuff · 4 years

Note

Can you please do what the Paladin and musical S/O would do? So kind of like a Paladin x musical reader? Also thank you SO SO much for "The Musical Couple" pairing with Keith! I love it so much, thank you!!

asdfghjkl I’m glad you liked your pairing👉👈🥺💜🌸

also, I literally play five instruments and am SUCH a music nerd so this request made me actually squeal in excitement, thank you SO much for requesting this oml

idk if you were asking for headcanons or scenarios so I did headcanons cause they tend to be easier, I hope that’s alright!! and if it’s not please by all means pop back into my requests and tell me it’s not what you wanted and I’ll rewrite it ASAP🥺👉👈

and I’m sorry this took so long, forgive me?🥺

also also (lmfao halp) I wROTE THIS OUT ENTIRELY THE OTHER DAY AND THEN TUMBLR CRASHED AND I LOST ALL OF IT AND IM SO MAD ASDFGHJKL so I’m sorry if some are super short and others aren’t bc imma finna square up with tumblr soon

»»»»»»»»»«««««««««

Shiro

I imagine he’s very much a music lover

but not a musician

like mayhaps he took piano or violin when he was a youngin but didn’t stick with it

tho he absolutely thrives while listening to music

probably a total sucker for Mozart and Tchaikovsky

absolutely loves listening to you play music/sing songs

thinks you’re way too gifted a musician to be stuck in space with him

he adores how easily you get lost in the music

loves watching your face as you end up in another world of your own and the rest of the universe falls away

thinks it’s amazing that despite everything thrown your way, you still find time to keep up with your passion

Lance

I imagine he’s more of a dancer than a musician

which leads me to this idea of you playing your instrument/singing while he dances along with you

and it’s just kinda comfortable and so you guys that no one really questions it

one time you managed to do a perfect transition to a song you’d never played/sang before and he actually tripped up and faceplanted in shock

Keith couldn’t stop laughing

and you were in tears from laughing so hard

our loverboy Lance has been Betrayed™️

okokok but

dis boy gives me hella Shakira vibes, ya feel?

so like he defo asked you to learn Hips Don’t Lie for him

when you actually take time out of you busy schedule to??

he dies a happy man.

the wholesomeness of the dancer and musician trope is so pure asdfghjkl

Hunk

okokok I imagine his family is extremely musical?

idfk why but I get dat vibe

so this boy is either very very very musical OR got no musical bones in his body bless his heart

if not musical

he absolutely has no clue how you could possibly do that

but thinks it’s so freakin amazing

cannot possible hope to comprehend being able to just play/sing so casually and easily

asks you to teach him

but then just sits and watches you in awe as you attempt to

if musical

there is no such thing as silence between the two of you

the simplest tapping can turn into an all out musical

cooking together? turns into the two of you dancing around banging pots and pans and cabinet doors and anything else to make a beat and sing a song

it’s absolute precious chaos

I’m talking there’s eight distinct parts and y’all are hitting all of them

it’s a mess and no one really knows how to make y’all stop

Keith

music boi frfr

can and will listen to anything and everything

absolutely loves how talented you are

y’all sing and play instruments together as much as possible

two person shows constantly

thinks you’re incredible

does not think himself worthy of playing music with you

but you pour when he doesn’t join you so he rolls his eyes and pretends to be annoyed but is secretly overjoyed you wanna play music with him

dumbass bbyboi

classical to heavy metal and everything in between

Pidge

is not musical

unless you count techno? idfk I think Pidge would be a master at techno

loves it when you play tho

Pidge just enjoys listening to you while working

realizes it’s easier to focus on projects while you quietly practice in the same room

accidentally matches specific things with specific songs and when you play that song while Pidge is working on a different thing it lowkey messes stuff up

but that’s fine bc Pidge is a genius and it’s always easy fixes

Pidge got talked into playing music with you one (1) time and the whole crew decided it was better if that never happened again

~Admin Rori💜

#voltron headcanons #voltron #voltron x reader #keith kogane #lance mcclain #takashi shirogane #pidge gunderson #katie holt #hunk garrett #voltron legendary defender #admin rori

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benscursedkid · 5 years

Note

I’m just going to ask again because every writer can practice and your writing is so great. Same character, different prompt. Ben Copper with #29 please? You write him so well and I cannot get enough of your Ben Copper fics!! Much love, ravenoftheclaw

of course, omL you’re so sweet~

thank you so much for requesting, i’m glad you enjoy my little blurbs, it means a lot!! much love to you as well!!💞

ben x mc!reader

words: 1.2k

genre: angst

warnings: none!!

a/n: takes place after graduation and mc is a curse breaker!! gender and house neutral!!

okay can i just say how sorry i am that it took so long?? i’ve been all over the place today and haven’t had the time for much of anything but either way i hope you enjoy!!

Your eyes are lidded and tired as you shuffle into your apartment, the door clicking softly shut behind you. Your limbs are heavy and your bones ache as you peel your shoes off at the entrance. Next thing to go is your coat and you send a quick longing glance towards the fridge before wandering over to the living room.

“I’m home,” You call out, not sure whether you’ll a response this time. Ben should be out of work by now...

You were supposed to return home to your husband fiur days ago, but with Merula our sick you and Bill were on your own. Things just didn’t progress as quickly as you anticipated with a colleague short. You’d tried to get here as fast as you could, but with a job like yours, this is something to be expected.

Unfortunately, with all of your latest jobs having gone the same way, a rift has driven itself between you and Ben. It’s not hard to see why, if you’re being honest. He hates being alone for extended periods of time and being his spouse, your job is supposed to be to keep him company, but lately that just hasn’t been the case. It’s not something you’re proud of but it’s the job.

The pitter patter of feet across the floor sounds as you contemplate whether or not crashing on the couch right now would be appropriate. You’re exhausted and just want some sleep.

It goes silent and you look up to find Ben staring at you, leaning against the wall as he studied you. Vaguely, you wonder when the greetings shifted from warm hugs and flustered kisses on the cheeks to empty stares.

“Hey...” You mumble, the feeble wavering of your voice almost twisting your lips into a frown at how wrong it feels.

“Hi,” The blonde supplies, folding his arms over his chest. “You’re finally back, I see.”

You nod, your feet begging you for a break, but you refuse, your focus attuned to the man in front of you. “Yeah, sorry I’m so late. We got held up without Merula there and everyone was thrown off.”

“Yeah, of course,” He smiles pleasantly, but it doesn’t reach his eyes, a tell-tale sign he’s putting up a front. On instinct, you call him out on it.

“What?” You ask, knowing full well that he’s hiding something. It would worry you if you didn’t, having been married for two years now.

Ben shakes his head, waving your concerns off, albeit uneasily. He heads to the kitchen. “It’s nothing, don’t worry about it.”

“You’re my husband, Ben, of course I’m going to worry about it.”

He stops then, feet halting and his head dropping back to stare up at the ceiling. His tongue clicks in vexation. When he speaks again, it’s only a whisper but it rings in your ears for the rest of the night.

“...Then maybe you should act like it.”

A pause. “Wha–What do you mean?”

He takes a deep breath before rounding on you. It’s only now that you take in the clear bags under his eyes and the deep sag of his shoulders. He looks about as exhausted as you feel and you wonder how you didn’t notice it before.

“I mean, MC, that if I wanted to live by myself I wouldn’t have asked you to marry me.”

Even when you can hear the anger, the disappointment in his voice, his face doesn’t change. He remains calm and stoic, almost cold, and you can’t help but try to pinpoint when that changed.

You can’t remember. You can’t remember and it kills you.

“Ben,” You say, not entirely believing the things you’re hearing. “I’m sorry I’m gone sometimes, but you know it isn’t always like this. We were just down a person this time, next time will be different.”

“That’s what you said last time.”

“Last time–”

“I know, MC,” He sighs, fingers flying to his temples to try and ease the pain beginning to form there. “Last time you were ambushed and the time before that there was a chimera and a hippogriff at the scene, I know. But what about next time, hm?”

“What about next time?”

“You can’t promise things will be different, MC, you don’t know!” The wizard cries, exploding, a thing that you both know is never good. Not when it only happens as a result of long overdue lent up emotions and likely months of holding his tongue. “There’s always something! What if next time Bill is out and the time after that one of you get injured? You can’t know those things!”

Your mind is racing, your words unable to catch up. How long has he felt this way? Why didn’t he tell you sooner? Are you really that bad?

You shake the thoughts away and reach out to grab his hand. He lets you, even with a frown permanently etched into his features.

“Ben...” You venture gently, soothingly, as if he’s glass and you’re afraid he’ll break. “Where is all this coming from?”

“I’m just tired of this. I’m tired of it all.” He deflates, letting you walk him to the coach, but stops before allowing himself to sit down.

“Tired of what?” You inquire, your heart stuck in your throat, afraid at what this could mean.

You squeeze his hand that’s still held tightly in yours, your thumb rubbing soothing circles into the skin. It seems to calm him enough to coax an answer from his lips.

“I’m tired of waiting here, alone in this apartment that we got together, wondering where you are, if you’re okay and safe and alive, and why you haven’t come home yet.”

“Ben–”

“No, that’s it, MC! I’m done with it, with this! I understand your job is demanding, I really do, but so is a marriage,” He tears his hand from yours and begins pacing around the kitchen, far enough away from you to give him the clarity to think. “I’m sick of never knowing what’s going on with you and where we stand with each other. This isn’t how things are supposed to be, it can’t be!”

“What are you saying Ben?”

He falters, stumbling briefly over his words before taking a deep breath. His usually kind brown eyes slide over to you, now full of sorrow and resignation.

“I’m saying that maybe we should... take some time.”

“From each other?”

“...Yeah.”

You don’t say anything, you can’t. Not when nothing seems adequate or good enough. Not when your husband has just told you that you should take a break, because really, what do you say to that?

Sensing that he won’t receive much of an answer, Ben nods silently and retreats back over to the door. He grabs his coat and slips it on over his shoulder. His hand lands on the doorknob, opening the door to see himself out when the words wrestle out from your throat.

“Do you not love me anymore?”

It’s all you can say, all you can think of even, and Ben’s shoulders drop and the saddest of sighs leave his mouth.

“Of course I do,” He murmurs and you believe him. He’d never been the type to lie and especially not about something like this. It’s something you always admired about him, valued in his character, but somehow, the words don’t make you feel any better.

“But I just don’t know if that’s enough anymore.”

With that, this time the door clicks shut on his way out and for once it’s you left alone in the apartment, the wind whispering and whistling in your ears like the words you should have said before.

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btshogwartsfics · 5 years

Text

Detention Song | 02

Summary: Everyone is always so quick to judge you, but after five years you’ve long since gotten used to it. Cue an angelic Gryffindor who’s way too cute for his own good and maybe things will start to change. So long as you don’t get in over your head, what’s the harm in making a new friend?

Pairing: Jimin x Hufflepuff!Reader

Word Count: 8.2k

Chapter: 1 | 2 | 3

Tag: @namjoonxorg for putting up with my shit oml thank you so much🤧❣️

Warnings: just some language and boring relationship building that might put you to sleep

A/N: okay so I know it took forever but I was super busy and Ik that’s a piss poor excuse, but it’s really all I got. hopefully the next one won’t take as long, sorry for the wait guys :((

Excitement was buzzing in the air when you woke up Sunday morning. The anticipation for the first Quidditch game was palpable and everyone seemed to be in a happier mood. Despite the impending doom of going back to classes tomorrow, there was not a single person who looked down today and you grin to yourself, thinking that it should be like this more often.

Walking into the Great Hall was like walking into a circus. The Gryffindor and Slytherin Quidditch players were as tense as to be expected. The two teams ignored each other for the most part, exchanging a few challenging glances now and then. Everyone else, though, they were practically overflowing with enthusiasm. Even the Ravenclaws, who are mostly either too lost in their own world or too focused on something different, are brimming anticipation.

As you make your way to your table, you pass by a group of Slytherins forming a betting pool and a few Hufflepuffs who were pulled into it. The students in green look smug and confident as they look onward at the lions across the Hall. You shrug it off, never one to participate in the rival between the two.

Sitting down though, you can hear better the whispers of excitement from your classmates. It seems that the stakes for this game are exceptionally high, even more than usual, because of two players in particular.

“Hey Park!” Bellows a Slytherin from the entrance of the Great Hall. He saunters over to Jimin, who is sitting peacefully at the Gryffindor table, his sleek black hair catching the sun filtering in softly through the window. The girls gawk and giggle as he passes by, the boys whispering and admiring, but he pays them no mind.

His large doe eyes are trained solely on the beater, who has now stood and is walking to meet him. The boy’s robes flow behind him like a train, the emerald back shining in the morning glow, the scarlet of Jimin’s offering the same shimmer. People hush as they take big strides to meet each other, the rest of their respective teams even pausing to watch them.

“So, you ready to get your ass kicked today, Park?” The raven haired boy smirks, his tone laced with snark and confidence, small, barely there dimples pressing into the side of his cheeks as his teammates laugh.

Jimin grins, a slight nod pushing his head up and down. His eyebrow quirks. “I should be asking you that, Jeon.” He quipps, challengingly. “Let’s not forget who won the cup last year.”

Jungkook bristles as the Gryffindors hoot and holler at Jimin’s remark. You watch the exchange between them with thinly veiled interest.

“You know that’s only because I was ineligible to play on our last game, Park,” He sneers at the shorter boy, though Jimin seems thoroughly unimpressed.

“Then maybe you shouldn’t have gotten caught sneaking into our common room,” The Gryffindors sasses back, a twinkle in his eyes that has you smiling to yourself. His fellow housemates are preening, shooting praise at their star player in front of the Slytherin.

“And whose fault was that exactly?” Jungkook argues, his eyes knowing and undeterred.

The tension thickens at they stare at one another for several seconds. Your eyes slide over to a slightly trembling first year, their hands coming up for him to nervously bite at his nails in anticipation. A chuckle escapes you as you allow your stare to wander back over to the mini standoff still happening between the two fifth year boys.

Jimin and Jungkook share a glare, their eyes piercing each other’s with barely sustained emotion. The Great Hall is mostly silent now as everyone waits for one of them to do something, anything. They step closer to one another, invading the other’s personal space as Jungkook looks down at the shorter boy, Jimin craning his neck to return Jungkook’s steady glare.

You can practically feel the way people hold their breath, guessing and betting on who will take the first strike. However, these thoughts are interrupted by the laughter that suddenly bursts from the boys’ throats. There’s a chorus of complaints and questions as the confused underclassmen try to make sense of the sudden shift in demeanor while you just laugh at their dramatics. Those boys were always two to draw a crowd. Jungkook and Jimin share one of those chest bump things that boys do, their grins replacing their scowls from just seconds ago.

“Good luck today on the pitch, Jimin hyung,” Jungkook smirks as his teammates call for him to come and eat his still untouched breakfast, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “You’re gonna need it.”

Jimin rolls his eyes, not taking the younger’s bait. “Yeah, okay, Kook. Go eat your breakfast and we’ll see on the pitch who really needs that good luck.”

They exchange a few more teasing remarks before the Slytherin boy returns to his own table, flanked on both sides by his teammates. Jimin lingers, his eyes zipping around the crowd of people. He doesn’t seem to find what he’s looking for and for a moment you think he’s also going to go back to his own house, but his eyes find yours and he smiles.

The Gryffindor walks over to you with a graceful smirk, the corners up his mouth lifting up and the stars in his eyes shining in a dangerous way.

You love it.

“Hey, Y/N,” The blonde greets you cheerfully, as if he hadn’t just been throwing faux insults at his best friend for the entire castle to see. “You coming to my game today?”

“Your game?” You jest, haughtily flipping your hair over your shoulder with a dramatic flair. “That’s funny. I thought it was Jungkook’s game.”

You shrug and he clicks his tongue, willing himself not to prove you wrong right then and there. He knows exactly what game you’re playing and he’s wondering if he has a chance at winning.

“Definitely not.” He corrects with confidence, dismissing your arched eyebrow as poor judgement and an attempt at his pride. “Kook doesn’t stand a chance.”

“Oh really?” You tease, his energy contagious and seeping into your bones, his crooked grin the prime influence. “I’m not so sure I believe you.”

Jimin laughs, airy and melodic. It makes you smile. “Come to my game. I’ll prove it.”

“We’ll see,” With a nod and your bottom lip pressed between your teeth in an effort to bite back another smile, he stands. He bows mockingly, playful and cocky, but it forces you to finally let go of the laugh you were trying to swallow.

The wind, which continues to run its fingers through your hair, picks up speed as the several Quidditch players zoom around the pitch. Their Quidditch robes fly around them haphazardly, thrashing and whipping them as the leaves fall gently to the ground. The whole of Hufflepuff house that surround you now are screaming, their yellow hats and scarfs justy slightly out of place among the green and red banners that are being waved around by the rest of the students.

Next to you, Laya saves some seats for Hoseok and his friend Seokjin, who have yet to make their way through the hoard after venturing out for some snacks- per Seokjin’s request. Your cheeks and fingers feel like ice, even with the protection of your scarf and gloves. Shivering, you turn your attention back to the Slytherin keeper, watching as he successfully deflects the speeding quaffle heading his way.

It doesn’t make much of a difference, though. Jungkook is good, but the Gryffindors were obviously prepared for this. Their seeker and one chaser haven’t left him alone since the match started, following him around more closely than his own shadow, successfully preventing him from searching for the snitch. The Slytherin is clearly unamused as he takes them left and right, trying hard to drop them from his tail. The Gryffindors stay, albeit not without some trouble.

Even with one less player, Gryffindor seems to have thought out how to proceed with the rest of their plays. They’ve done so well, in fact, that they are pretty far ahead in points- almost two hundred and fifty points ahead. The Slytherins are kicking themselves and you’ve heard some not so polite things filter over to your ears from the sea of green posters across the pitch.

“Hey Y/N,” Hoseok calls once he finds his seat, raising his voice in order to be heard over the screaming students. “I think someone is looking for you.”

You open your mouth to ask what he’s talking about, ignoring the way Laya giggles beside you, when you’re cut short at the point of Hoseok’s finger. You crane your head to see where he was pointing and meet Jimin’s eyes.

They’re bright and you can see from your spot in the crowd the impishness that swim in his brown irises. A proud smirk tugs the corners of his lips upward, not quite arrogant but definitely knowing. The boy seems to bask in the praise and cheers from the wave of students as he sends another bludger Slytherin’s way. Jimin grins when a Chaser is denied another shot, seeking your eyes and offering up a wink.

You resist the urge to laugh, but you don’t entirely succeed. Instead, you arch your eyebrow and blow a kiss in his direction, all too teasing and all too playful. You mock his cockiness as he chuckles and flies off again, not wanting to get distracted for too long. This time, your eyes can’t seem to stray from his form, flying up and around all over the pitch.

Laya and Hoseok- and even Seokjin?- seem to notice this and the former nudges your side. She grins at you, not so subtle in the way she gestures back over to Jimin on his broom. She doesn’t even need to speak for you to hear what she’s saying.

“Just watch the game,” You yell, even though she’s right beside you. “You’re missing it.”

Laya shrugs, turning back to the match with the grin still plastered on her lips. “Not as much as you are.” The girl jabs, probing your reaction. “Maybe you’d know that Jungkook’s about to catch the snitch right now if you weren’t so focused on Park Jimin.”

Your head whips around, eyes darting around in search for the Slytherin Seeker. When you finally find him, both the Gryffindors who were shadowing him are gone, nowhere in sight, most likely unable to keep up with him. He is speeding over to the far left of the field so quickly that he looks more blur than human to you. That’s when you notice that the snitch is, in fact, right within his reach.

There’s indistinct yells as the Gryffindors try to stop him from wrapping his extended hand around it. A few bludgers fly towards him, courtesy of Jimin and the other Beater. Jungkook dodges with with ease, hardly even paying them any attention as he reaches out his hand even further. You swear your ears are bleeding with the screaming of the crowd, everyone waiting for Jungkook to finally catch the small golden ball.

You blink and the next thing you know, the wave of green and silver across the pitch is going wild. Cheers and chants erupting from their side of the stands. However, even with Jungkook pumping his fist in the air, a giant grin adorning his handsome features, one look at the score has a different house dancing in victory.

The Gryffindors shamelessly celebrate their win. The students in the stands jump up and down and high five each other, throwing various remarks over to their opponents. Everything’s a mess of red and gold and even the players still on the pitch fly around to high five their housemates.

Jimin’s laughing, hugging his teammate and flashing the biggest smile to the crowd. He’s barely hanging onto his broom as he takes turns congratulating each player on the field. Jungkook seems less than pleased when Jimin approaches him but the younger takes his defeat in stride. It’s only after the Slytherin flies away that he looks back to you.

He flies around as he knows you’re watching, adding in that extra flourish simply for your sake. Yet he’s glowing in that way that only he can and you smile, ready to pretend this wasn’t the best Quidditch match you’ve ever been to.

“No Jimin, I’m not going to tell you how practice went, because it’s none of your business.” You accuse, hands on your hips as the Gryffindor in front of you pouts.

“What?” Jimin scoffs, as if the very thing that you’re insinuating is insulting. “Can’t I be interested in how well my friend is doing in practice?”

Rolling your eyes, you set the last box in the closet, grinning and admiring your organization. Detention today had consisted of helping organize the artifact room. The space was cramped and the lighting a bit dark, but you and Jimin were able to get the job done. Not to mention the way Jimin kept talking about his win yesterday, which you still adamantly deny was amazing.

Halfway through you pretending not to know what he was talking about, he switched tactics and tried to trick you into giving away your plays. It was poorly disguised and you made sure he knew that, but now he was the one acting like he didn’t understand.

“No,” You laugh, sticking your tongue out at him, causing him to chuckle at your childishness. “Not when said friend is the captain of the Gryffindor team and already too arrogant for his own good.”

A hand flies to his chest, his eyes widening. “What? How dare you accuse my kindness as being anything other than what it is.”

A faux noise of indignance leaves his throat and he turns away from you, nose stuck up righteously in the air. But upon further inspection, you can see the corners of his lips trying hard not to lift into a smile.

You hum, not entirely convinced, though he knows this already. “I’m going to go see how McGonagall likes this layout. I’ll be right back.”

He nods and you make your way up the stairs and down to your professors office. Once you’re standing behind her door, you knock twice.

“Come in,” You hear from the other side.

You push the wood open, peeking out from the crack you’ve made. “Jimin and I are done now, professor. We just wanted to let you know in case you wanted to come inspect it.”

The Transfiguration professor nods, stealing a glance down to her watch, peering over her spectacles. “Okay, very good. Detention appears to be done now. You and Mister Park may go and I will check it later this evening.”

“Thank you, professor.”

You let out a chorus of sighs on your way back over to Jimin, knowing you don’t have a lot to do except your homework. Truth be told, you’d much rather spend that time blowing dust into Jimin’s face and wiggling out of the reach of his feather duster– his retribution.

Kicking at imaginary pebbles by your feet, you reach the artifact room with low hopes for your evening. Your mind whirls, brainstorming things to do besides your potions essay, but your train of thought is interrupted by a familiar voice from down the hall. Though, it sounds very different from how you’ve ever heard it before.

“What are you doing?” Jimin sneers, his voice low and angry but not quite malicious.

Down the hall, away from prying eyes, Jimin stands with two younger boys. One adorns a bright red tie, similar to Jimin’s own, but it is not him who Jimin seems to be defending. Instead, a boy even younger than the one in front of Jimin peers over his shoulder, cautious and hesitant.

The younger Gryffindor opens his mouth, but nothing comes out. His eyes fly from Jimin’s scowl and back to his feet. “Look, it’s no big deal. I was just–”

“Really?” Jimin accuses, crossing his arms as he stares down at the younger boy. “Because it sure didn’t seem like nothing when you were about to hex your classmate.”

The Gryffindor sighs, but doesn’t look back up. “Okay, you’re right. I won’t do it again. Can I leave now? I should be going back to–”

“You bet your ass you won’t,” Turning to face the boy behind him, Jimin offers a friendly smile and pats him on the shoulder. Even from your place down the hall you can see the relieved sag of the boy’s shoulders. Patting him on the back, he’s dismissed by Jimin and he turns back to face his housemate.

“That’ll be twenty points from Gryffindor.” He declares, to which the younger boy cries out in complaint.

“What? But that’s your house, too! You’re really going to take points from your own house?”

Scoffing, Jimin shakes his head at the boy, unamused. “Listen, it’s my job as a Prefect to make sure Hogwarts and their students are happy and safe and learning like they’re supposed to.” The boy looks up at Jimin with wide eyes and you can’t help but stare at Jimin, entrances with the way he speaks. “And if my house continues to house people who can’t seem to understand the difference between right and wrong, then I guess we’ve still got a few things to learn.”

The conversation seems to end there as Jimin sends the younger Gryffindor back to his common room, the latter grumbling under his breath as he departs. It’s only then that Jimin turns around and spots you, now leaning against the cobblestone wall with a small smile on your face.

The Gryffindor blushes, the image completely contradicting the one from mere seconds ago. He shuffles to to you, rubbing the back of his neck as he tries for a smile.

“So I take it you heard all of that, huh?”

You shrug, your head tilting slightly. “Enough of it.” Jimin blows hair out of his face as he nods. Air pushes past his lips and he makes to speak but you cut him off before he can. “And I think it was great.”

“What?” He asks, his face scrunched in confusion.

You laugh at that, the adorable way in which his nose wrinkles all too endearing. “I think it was great.” You reiterate, stressing every syllable. “I think it was very noble of you to defend that younger boy, even if you had to take points from yourself to do it.”

If it’s possible, his cheeks seem to pink even more at that. “I don’t know. I’m just doing the right thing, I’d expect everyone to do the same.”

This causes your smile to falter, your teeth digging into your bottom lip. “You know, I’ve come to learn that not everyone will hold your same ideals as highly as you do.” You sigh, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. “Just be careful with that, okay?”

Jimin nods, gifting you an appreciative grin. He hand comes to cup yours on his shoulder. “I will.”

“Good,” You pat him easily on the back, but it quickly turns to a playful push as you realize what you came back to do. “Well now that we’re off the hook for today… race you to the Great Hall!”

You don’t wait for a reply and start off, but Jimin doesn’t let you go as easily as Laya would. Instead he comes up behind you to grasp your wrist, tugging you until you’re directly facing his back. Then he shoots you a wicked grin and dashes down the hall.

“How rude!” You cry, even as a laugh pushes past your throat.

Another sigh makes it way past your lips as you roll your sleeves up even higher on your forearms. The lake water is warm as it wrinkles your fingers and you take your time to spread your fingers out across the water. The sun beams down at you, it’s warm rays reflecting against the water ripples in tiny sparkles.

From his place beside you, Jimin chuckles, flicking his hands in an attempt to dry them. “Have you ever been in the Black Lake before?”

You shake your head, basking in the afternoon sunshine. “Nope. I’ve always wanted to, I've just never really gotten around to it.”

“Taehyung and I swam in it our first year.”

Your head whipped over to him, your eyes wide and filled with a recognizable excitement. “You’re kidding.”

“Nope,” He grins, the soft light shining and if it were night you could’ve sworn there were stars in his eyes. “It was pretty fun. We didn’t go to far in, not much farther than here actually, no it wasn’t that big a deal.”

“Nothing came and attacked you?” You hum, glancing at him through your peripheral vision as you try to collect the last of the ingredients Sprout had requested. “No merpeople wanting to keep you for themselves?”

Jimin laughed but rolled his eyes. “Ha ha, you’re funny.”

“I try.”

He nods to himself as he carries the handful of ingredients out of the water and putting them into vials. “But to answer your question; no. It was actually quite peaceful.”

“Have you done it again since?”

“No.” He replies easily, helping you seal the last of the vials and stand back to admire your work. “Why are you so interested?”

You spare a glance over to the grand clocktower, grinning when you notice the time. “Well, we technically don’t have to be back to Sprout’s for another hour, right?” He nods, brows scrunched in confusion and you’re more than happy to elaborate. “There’s no one around, so why don’t we go for a swim?”

“What?” Jimin is looking around now, eyes searching for people who aren’t there and excuses that won’t work. “Right now?”

You shrug, already starting to peel your robe off your body. You toss it aside, allowing it to land next to the tree that casts a small shadow over part of the lake, your tie soon joining it. Jimin’s eyes widened as he watches you, quickly turning around so as not to accidently peek at something he shouldn’t.

Your eyebrow raises, your lips quirk. “What? You scared, Park?”

He scoffs as if the very idea of such a thing is insulting. “Of course not!”

“Then prove it,” You snicker when he hesitates to turn back around and tap him on the shoulder. “You can turn around you know. I only got rid of my stockings.”

Jimin turns around with one hand barely covering his eyes. Spreading his fingers, he cautiously peeks through and lets out a sigh of relief when he sees that you’re right.

Huffing, you grab at his wrist, tugging him over to the edge of the lake where the saturated grass meets the glistening lake. You welcome the unusually hot air upon your skin as Jimin’s feet shuffle over to where you want him, allowing himself to be dragged. The smile on your face seems to be infectious as his lips pull into a matching expression, sighing fondly at your antics.

“Come on, be bold!” You encourage, pulling at his arm. “Take advantage of the weirdly warm weather, I know you can!”

Jimin looks out as you look up at him, trying his hardest not to show you just how amusing this is to him. The way you cling to his arm and pout like a child is far too endearing and he refuses to tune you into these thoughts.

So focused on his task, he doesn’t notice you turning the both of you around until it’s too late. You pull at his arm one last time and he finally looks down only to find a sinister smirk painted on your lips. His mouth opens to ask about it, but suddenly he loses his balance, air sweeps beneath him and the next thing he knows, a splash is sounding and his uniform is soaked.

Giggles spill uncontrollably from your lips as he resurfaces above the water, shaking his head and flinging drops of water over to where you stand. Your hand comes up to clasp your mouth but it doesn’t do much to hide your cackles. Jimin stares at you from his place in the lake, his initial surprise gone and his scowl is replaced by a smug tilt of his lips.

He swims carefully over to the edge, pushing his hair back out of his eyes. “Hey!” He calls, splashing you as retribution. “How about you get in?”

“Maybe I will,” You challenge and he grins.

You can’t help but do the same and you take a few big steps back. He seems to understand what you’re about to do and swims back, giving you room. Once you think you’ve gained enough distance, you run out towards him, the wind weaving it’s fingers through your hair. You reach the end and jump out, laughing as your body falls into the water.

You resurface with a gasp, taking oxygen back into your lungs. When you open your eyes, Jimin is staring at you with a smirk on his face.

“What?” You probe, splashing him again.

He scoffs at this and splashes you back. “Nothing.” He shrugs, trying again to fix his wet hair. “This is fun.”

“Yeah,” You agree, unable to hide the way your chest swells at his words. “It is.”

Your feet are heavy as you drag your body out of the lake. Thankfully, you and Jimin had left your wands with McGonagall again, so you didn’t have to worry about it getting lost. You walk over to where you’d deposited your clothes and slump down, laying yourself across the grass. You’re soaked but you use a quick drying spell and close your eyes, feeling the blades flow and tickle your fingertips in the breeze.

Jimin isn’t far behind you, laying himself directly to your right. His hand comes up to shield his eyes, his clothes having already been dried by him. Your shoulders touch each other and your hands mere inches apart. If you wanted to you could easily hover your pinky over just slightly…

“I wish we could stay here,” Jimin spoke softly after a minute, like he were afraid speaking too loud would ruin and rupture the delicate serenity that surrounded you. Your head turned to look at him, his jawline was sharp, but his eyes were far away as another smile settled on his face.

“It’ll get cold eventually,” You add, nudged his shoulder gently with your elbow. “Then you’ll freeze.”

“I know that,” He griped, though his tone was not malicious, but warm. “I mean- I wish we could stay now.”

“Now?”

“Yeah,” The boy concludes, completely sure of his answer, even if it made no sense to you. “You know, right now. I want to stay now; where the lake is calm and the wind is blowing, the grass is ticklish and the sun is warm-”

“-and where no one can reach us.”

Brown irises snap to yours, soft and sweet and warmer than the out-of-place October sunshine that bathes you both in golden light. His skin is glowing from the rays of the sun and his hair looks like woven strands of light, which is a soft contrast from the slowly fading green of the surrounding grass. His eyes search yours, looking for any semblance of dishonesty or insincerity, but he doesn’t find it. And maybe that’s because the opposite is true, maybe you mean it more than you should, but right now you can’t find it in yourself to care.

Not when he’s staring at you like that and not when the gentle breeze is whistling in your ears like a lullaby made just for this moment right here.

Jimin pulls his bottom lip between his teeth, drawing your attention to the mindless action. He looks like he’s thinking too much- that’s all you can gather from the way he remains quiet, allowing his eyes to roam your face until he’s sure he’s memorized every detail. You want to call him out on it, too, ask him something to fill the void of uncertainty that began to stir in your head the second you spoke those heavy words that were all too true. But you’re afraid to speak, afraid to poke a hole in the delicate moment that the two of you carefully hand-stitched and pieced together.

The boy blinks the haze from his brain and chances a glance down to your balled fists. “Are you cold?”

The moment’s shattered, your feelings flee.

You open your mouth to reply but words escape you, your mind having been… elsewhere. Though Jimin doesn’t wait for your answer as his fingers dare to dance across your knuckles for observation. A gasp leaves him upon the contact and you fight to keep a blush from blooming across your cheeks.

Immediately his hand goes to engulf yours, his thumb sliding instinctually under your palm to rub soothing circles on the skin. “You’re freezing, Y/N!”

“I’m fine, Jimin, it’s nothing,” You insist, too endeared by his concern to remove your hand from his. “It’s just the breeze-”

“We’re probably going to catch colds now,” He frowns, the thought causing his eyebrows to draw together in obvious displeasure.

You laugh on instinct, all too eager to escape the suffocating thoughts that had started to plague your mind. “Yeah, probably. It was fun, though.”

Jimin nods, a picturesque smile adorning his pink lips, your hand still clasped in his. “Definitely worth it.”

A loud ring from the gigantic clock tower finally severs the scene, the two of you quickly standing back on your feet and collecting your vials. Your robe and tie find their way back into place, while you settle for folding your stockings into your pocket.

“We should get going,” You suggest, earning a hum of approval from your companion. “Sprout is probably wondering where we are.”

“You’re right, let’s head out.”

Your walk back to the greenhouse is silent, neither of you opting for words. But the silence is comfortable, made up of stolen glances and poorly hidden smiles.

The dust in the air looms over you like a signal of what’s to come. It floats in particles all around the trophy room- which somehow needs to be cleaned again -collecting in pools and piles in the corners and on the cups of gold and silver. It even sits elegantly on the pages of your textbook, mocking you almost as you huff for the thousandth time that afternoon, frustrated with your lack of correct answers in the subject.

A whine reverberates in your throat again and you refrain from tossing your textbook out the window. “This is dumb,” You pout, crossing your arms in indignance as Jimin sighs from across you, his own textbook open. “I’m not going into a career in Potions, so why do I need an Outstanding on my OWLs and why do I need an Exceeds on my next exam? Hmm?”

Jimin shrugs, not quite wanting to argue with you, but knowing that some words of caution should probably be offered. “I don’t want to become a Divination professor, but that doesn’t mean I should stop studying for it.” He reasons with a knowing tilt of his head.

You attempt a glare at him, not appreciating his reasonable argument, but it doesn’t work and your eyes fall lamely back to your open page. “I’m never going to get this right.”

“Sure you will,” Jimin encourages, a bright smile meeting with the comforting crescents of his eyes. “You probably just need a break.”

“Yeah, that sounds great right about now,” You groan, pushing away your Potions textbook and allowing your body to fall backwards, your head landing safely on your backpack. Jimin chuckles, but packs away his own textbook to lean back against one of the many trophy cases, his eyes falling closed in relaxation.

“You know,” He ventures after a minute or so, not bothering to hide the dash of amusement in his tone. “McGonagall’s going to have our heads for slacking off.”

You laugh, the image of a raging McGonagall storming the castle looking for her two missing students, her ears red from screaming so much coming to mind elicits a smile from you. “Yeah, you’re probably right about that.”

“When am I ever wrong?” He teases and you shake your head at him, deciding to count the number of cracks in the ceiling, finding it at least much more interesting than Potions.

It’s quiet for a minute, the two of you drinking the silence in after studying for more than an hour and listening to your thoughts scream multiple different answers at itself. You’re content to lay here all evening, just admiring the sunlight wafting in through the window and the songs the birds are chirping. Though it seems your companion is not as fond of the silence as you are, as he cuts off your drowsy train of thought.

“What’s your favorite class?”

An eye cracks open and you use it to stare at him in bemusement. Your hand goes across your eyes to shield them from the sun, and your head lifts to see him better. “What?”

The Gryffindor shuffles in his spot, suddenly all too aware of his random bout of interest. “It’s just, we’ve been friends for two weeks now, we see each other multiple times a day every day, but I still don’t know too much about you.” He explains, his ears tinting slightly pink at the tips. “So I was just wondering…”

He looks away, back out the window to distract himself from your lack of response and you grin. How is it possible for one boy to be so endearing?

You clear your throat and he looks to you curiously. You gesture over to your forgotten and very much resented Potions textbook laying on the ground. “Well, it’s definitely not Potions, that’s for sure.” Jimin barks out a short laugh at the statement and you happily listen as it seems to echo off the empty walls. “But I’ve never really thought about it. If I had to choose, maybe… Charms?”

“Charms is nice,” Jimin agrees, shaking his head as he begins to mull over the question himself. “I’ve always liked it, too.”

“Is it your favorite?”

“Not sure,” He concludes, his lower lip pulling thoughtfully over his top one. “I like a lot of my classes. Magical Creatures is fun and Tae has got me into Divination a bit more lately, but I enjoy Defense a lot, too.” He muses, almost to himself.

“All of those classes are completely different, Jimin,” You exclaim and he hurries to his conclusion. “For the sake of the question, it would either be Charms or Defense,” He amends and you lay back down, satisfied with his answer. “But the Professor definitely has an impact.”

“What do you mean?” You’ve forgone napping for the sake of conversation, but you’d much rather talk to Jimin anyway.

“Well,” He nods pensively, scanning his mind for the words to clearly articulate his meaning. “Believe it or not, I quite like History.”

“...You like History of Magic?” You drawl, not entirely believing him. Nobody likes History of Magic, not even most of the muggle-borns. People usually just resort to rotation homework and assignments in an attempt to do as little as they can.

“Yeah, I think the subject alone isn’t as bad as what everyone says,” Jimin continues, watching carefully as you analyze his words, trying to discern if he was messing with you or not. “But when our teacher falls asleep in the middle of lecture and then gives us exams on the things he hadn’t got to… then I start to lose interest.”

Your eyes narrow as you turn over his words. Truth be told, you had been pretty excited for that specific class as a first year. The idea of learning about how the magical world you’d only just discovered you were apart of came to be certainly sounded better in theory. When you’d shown up to the class for the first time and found out that your teacher was a ghost who somehow needs more sleep than you do, needless to say, you’d been disappointed.

Jimin grins as you zone out, all smug and boyish. “You know I’m right.”

Your gaze snaps over to him, and when he grins at you with those crescent eyes and pearly whites between pretty pink lips, a sigh escapes. You concede.

“Don’t get used to it, Park,” You jest, sticking your tongue out at him as he beams, reveling in his own ego. You’re tempted to toss your book at him, wipe that smile off his face but if you’re being honest, it looks good on him.

His eyebrow arches challengingly, daring you to say it again. “What are you gonna do about it?”

A smirk creeps onto your face and you shrug, nonchalant. “Oh I don’t know. Maybe I’ll sneak into the Ravenclaw common room and tell Taehyung what you said about his owl the other day-”

“You wouldn’t dare!” He gasps, eyes wide like saucers, glimmering brilliantly in the afternoon light. His mouth falls open as he stares at you incredulously.

“You willing to bet your broom on that?” You wink at him for extra measure and he clutches his hand tightly to his chest, right above his heart. He looks equally offended and intrigued and you’re unable to prevent the giggle that falls from your lips.

His shakes his head with a playful gleam in his eyes, the smirk permanently settled on his face. He doesn’t wait a beat before he murmurs in the midst of your dwindling laughter, “You wanna hear a secret?”

He’s still smirking when you look to him, as if spilling such things were a common occurrence. Jimin is not at all fazed with the way you’re eyeing him, curiosity prickling incessantly at your mind.

Still, you’re hesitant. “It’s not gossip or rumors or drama is it? Because if it is, I couldn’t care less about it.” Jimin doesn’t seem the type to spread those things, even if he probably does hear more than most, but you wanted to make sure.

With a shake of his head and a slight blush to his cheeks, he continues. “No, it’s actually, uh- it’s about me.”

Now you’re really curious and your eyebrow inches closer up to your hairline. “A secret about you, huh?” You sit up slightly to prop your chin on your hand. “Then I guess I’ll be willing to hear you out.” You sigh dramatically, as if doing so was quite the nuisance.

Jimin snickers momentarily before leaning in closer to you. You can feel the heat radiating off of his body in waves, much warmer than the hint of sunlight coming from the window. His hand goes up to cup over his lips to hide his mouth, stealthy, as if they were someone there to hear him.

“I lied.”

You peer up at him, unamused. He chuckles, knowing that he’s being too vague, but waiting for you to prompt him to continue. With a roll of your eyes, you wave your hand and gesture for him to keep going.

“I didn’t get detention for sneaking into the Ravenclaw common room,” He admits, not quite shy, but he doesn’t seem too bashful either. “I didn’t even go in their common room. I made it up.”

“Y-You,” You stuttered, wondering both why he had done such a thing and why he has decided to tell you about it now. “Why?”

“I didn’t sneak into the Ravenclaw common room, but Jungkook did,” His words are stressed, emphasized to correctly display what he’s trying to imply. The gears in your head begin to turn and it clicks, your mouth falling open in shocking realization.

“S-So you-”

“I took the blame.”

“Why?” You asked, trying desperately to see where is head is at. “You knew you would get his punishment and you’ve never gotten detention before.”

Jimin only smiles at you, cryptic in form but sending off a much kinder, warmer feeling down your spine. “Why did you use magic on Kane when you knew you’d get trouble for that?”

Your mouth falls shut, the answer on the tip of your tongue, but unwilling to slip. You know why, and so does he. Apparently, his friends mean more to him than you’d originally thought.

So, instead of probing or denying the truth, which you both know would be futile, you tell him, “Touché,” Allowing yourself a measly grin before going on. “You guys must be really close, huh?”

He shrugs, processing your question. “Yeah, we are.”

“I think that’s sweet,” You coo at him, causing him to pull a face of mock sarcasm. “Really though, it’s nice what you did for him. Sacrificing a month’s worth of your free time for him, more people should be like that.”

Jimin laughs to himself, a small breath of giggles pushing through his teeth like a whistle. “Well, if I’m being honest, I don’t see the point in having free time if I can’t spend it with my friends.” He stops, contemplating a thought before he points an accusatory finger in your direction. “But don’t tell them that.”

Your hands come up in mock surrender. “My lips are sealed.”

“Good,” He goads, somehow both smug and humble if that was possible. He goes to poke at your cheek, catching your attention back to him. “But, if we’re still being honest… I don’t mind spending my free time with you, either.”

A grin spreads your lips apart, all rosy cheeks and toothy smile. “Good,” You mimic, trying not to give away how many butterflies suddenly– strangely –erupted in your stomach. “Because I don’t mind it, either.”

Jimin opens his mouth, probably to reply with another sentiment that you can see unspoken in his eyes before they even meet his lips. So, you cut him off with, “Now if you don’t mind, I’d like to get back to dusting now before McGonagall starts asking for my head.”

He smirks at this, a thoughtful hand coming to stroke his chin like a comical super-villain. “Now do you think she’d want it on a silver or a gold platter?”

You huff, biting back a chuckle as you throw your duster at him. It does no good as he catches it easily with one hand, but it’s the thought that counts. “Shut up.”

“You know,” He teases further, pretending to admire a golden house cup that sits forgotten on one of the many shelves. “Upon further conversation, I think she’d want it on a golden platter. Gryffindors don’t mess with second place stuff.”

Scoffing, you run quickly around the shelf to grab your sister back from him– and maybe ignite a feather attack –but he maneuvers quickly out of the way. He holds the feather duster up above him, well out of your reach with an eyebrow raised. Seeing no other way out of it, you reach onto your toes for the duster, but he simply dangles it mockingly. You pout up at him, a final plea for mercy, but he doesn’t give in, nodding proudly to himself as he beams down at you. Trying hard not to let it distract you, in a last ditch effort, you poke at his side in the hopes of garnering a reaction.

Your wish is granted in the form of the small string of giggles that leave his mouth, his body convulsing sideways to avoid your savage fingers. In doing so, his hand lowers just enough for you to pluck the duster out from between his fingers. Now you’re the one smirking and he finally surrenders, bending not so elegantly to your will with the promise of no more surprise tickles.

You agree, albeit reluctantly seeing as his laugh is by far one of the prettiest things you’ve ever heard. Though he seems to appreciate the deal you’ve made and even offers to help you study while you work.

Somehow, you leave the Trophy Room with half the book memorized, the anecdotes and pictures lodged right there in your brain next to the image of his smile shining in the late afternoon sun coming gently through the curtains.

Your fingers tap a pattern into your desk as you wait for your test back. All around the room there are gasps and a few cheers as your fellow students either celebrate their success or mourn for their grade point average. Trewlaney seems to take her sweet time walking over to you and it makes even more nerves fester and flutter around inside you. You studied your ass off for this exam and if you failed, you’d be utterly distraught.

With the incessant click of her heels boots, she finally nears you. Her round glasses fall slightly down her nose and she pushes them back up. She offers you a toothy, subtly loopy grin. “Good work, Miss Y/L/N.”

Once in reach, your eyes shift frantically across your exam until they finally land on the big Exceeds at the top of your parchment.

You blink a few times, half expecting it to be gone when you open your eyes, but it’s not. It stays there at the top, doing its job just as well a gold star in kindergarten. For extra measure, you even double check all your answers to make sure she hadn’t marked one right by mistake. She didn’t, each of the answers are straight from the textbook and you feel like doing a happy dance in your seat.

“Alright now, if you didn’t do too well on this exam, come see me and we can figure something out,” Trelawney booms from the front of the classroom, but you can hardly hear her, still mesmerized by the score on your parchment. “Otherwise, class is dismissed.”

You’re out of your seat and packing your things away before she even finishes her sentence. A sense of pride pulses through your veins and suddenly, you only have one destination in mind.

There’s an extra skip in your step as you take the now familiar path down to the kitchens. Seeing as classes are now over and you don’t have practice today, detention will be starting soon and you know that the elves will try and put you to work the second it does. So, with your exam held tightly in your hands, you race to your destination as fast as you can without knocking into the mingling students.

When you get there, you immediately look around for a familiar head of blonde hair. The scent of butter and spices fill your nose, sharp and savory and you try to ignore it as best you can. Unfortunately, they are nowhere in sight and your smile drops slightly. That is until the door burst open behind you and a disheveled looking Gryffindor beams at you, a tiny blush creeping up his neck.

“Hey, Y/N,” Jimin greets, politely nodding towards the paper that’s still clutched in your hand. “You had your Divination exam today, right?”

You stutter, surprised he’d actually remembered. You nod. “Yeah, I did.” Now it’s your turn to blush as you remember why you had rushed all the way here. “I actually wanted to- uh, show it to you.”

“Really?” When you nod again, his grin widens. “That’s good, right. That must mean you did well! No one wants to show someone an exam if they failed.”

You smirked and held it out for him to see. “See for yourself.”

His eyes raked up the parchment from the bottom. As they make their way up, they stop directly at the top where you knew the mark was. “You did it!” He laughs, the sound pushing pleasantly past his lips as he looks back at you. “You did it, you got an Exceeds!”

“It’s thanks to you, Jimin.” You reply to which he shakes his head in protest, but you won’t let him do that. “It was thanks to all your notes and all the times you helped me study. I couldn’t have even worked up the motivation to do that without you.”

“I don’t think so,” He denies again and you go to argue, but he holds up a hand to stop you. “You wouldn’t have been able to get an Exceeds if you didn’t have it in you.” He says determined, certain. “I might have given you the push, but in the end it was all you.”

With a sigh, you tilt your head thoughtfully at him. “You’re not going to take this credit, are you?” He shakes his head with a knowing smile and it’s the most contagious thing you’ve ever seen you can’t help but do the same. “Fine, but… thanks for the push, I guess.”

“Anytime,”

“Hey!” The shrill voice of a house elf cuts through your reverie and both your heads turn to the interruption. “If you two are done chit-chatting, detention was supposed to start a minute ago! Get to work!”

You and Jimin share a laugh, but concede, turn to head over to your respective stations. He tries to catch your attention from time to time, throwing baby carrots and spinach leaves in your direction to which the elves chastise him with their wooden spoons. You take your revenge in the form of salad croutons and pieces of celery. The elves are forced to separate you two after only half an hour, but your laughs carry across the whole room, bringing smiles to even the grumpiest of elves, even if they try their best to hide it.

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ughthatimagineblog · 6 years

Text

blush

cassian x (fem) reader

warnings; language, a very suggestive moment oml, acowar spoilers?, azriel and the reader were a thing for 2 seconds bc its canon azriel has had past lovers

prompt; reader is a princess at dawn but cass didn’t know lmao

requested; this prompt was an idea given to me by the lovely @sippy--sippy

word count; 5656

a/n; legit i spent two hours on this until 2 am and i got just a little carried away. 10 pages worth. love yall. sorry its so long also i have only read like the first two chapters of acofas that they offer at the end of acowar so bear with me

Living without a wall was hard. Humans were still terrified of Fae. And to be fair, they had a good reason. Just not four months ago, Prythian had defeated Hybern. Feyre and Rhysand had defeated Hybern. Everyone had taken hits, Rhys the worst of all. Rebuilding was hard as well. Even on the Fae side of things. Feyre was running non-stop meetings with other High Lords. Even some lesser fae to try and help volunteer for physical assistance. Hybern had destroyed a lot of land that needed physical rebuilding and she felt it was her task to help with that as well. Only occasionally Rhys would attend with her to help as well but he had his own High Lord things to do. Cassian occupied himself with helping Feyre rebuild and sometimes accompanying her with more ‘official’ meetings. The ones that didn’t talk of reconstruction of people’s villages or homes, rather the reconstruction and editing of a certain treaty. She frequently went to meet at the Dawn Court as Feyre found Thesan the more neutral High Lord. Until today, she had gone alone, sometimes taking Mor. But today would be different.

Today was a special meeting, Feyre would bring everyone with her, feeling their presence was needed. That included Rhys, Amren, Azriel, Mor and Cassian. “Now, I think Thesan and I can come to an agreement we will share with other High Lords when we get the chance, but it may take a while to organize the logistics of my idea so we will be staying in Dawn Court for a few days. We arrive today, get rest and the meeting starts tomorrow.” Feyre instructed everyone who was gathered in the town house kitchen. “What could be so important that you needed all of us there?” Amren spoke up, crunching on an apple. She winced a little. It appeared that regular food was still a very new concept to her. “Amren, you’re coming because you are much wiser than I am. And older. I have a feeling your opinion one what’s best, what technicalities to look at will be highly valued. Rhys is coming as another consultant. He’s also High Lord and has been a High Lord of Prythian for longer than I have been. Azriel, I need you to scout the Dawn Court before we arrive.” He nodded and vanished leaving little more than a cloud of smoke to dissipate behind him. “Cassian, you’re coming for protection. And Mor, you can work with Amren to help fact-check.” Feyre finished as everyone processed their new tasks. “Why would you need protection?” Cassian piped up. “I thought you trusted Thesan?” He asked. It wasn’t like him to question orders. He wasn’t really, just curious. Although, he did have some plans. A night on the town. He hadn’t gotten a break and the next few days he had nothing planned. Up until now. “Well, Thesan has told me Beron might arrive as well.” Everyone’s facial expressions changed. Everyone understood now. Feyre trusted Thesan. She was still wary of Beron. Mor was thankful she was given the task of ‘fact-checking’ with Amren. It would allow her to busy herself away from Beron or even Eris if he decided to show. They left the moment Azriel had returned with news that the palace was safe. Bags packed, each winnowed into the palace, the beautiful court looking as stunning as it did when they had their meeting just months ago. Before Hybern. Thesan greeted them. “Feyre. Good to see you again.” He smiled and welcomed her with a hug. He had grown warmer since the meeting. Feyre had seen a lot of Dawn Court in these past months, finding a new friend in Thesan, his Peregryn lover, his army and almost everyone residing at the palace.

Once inside, Cassian overheard Feyre inquiring about a princess and Cassian found it odd he had never heard of a princess in Dawn before. What was more shocking is that Rhys, Azriel and Mor were also concerned about where this ‘princess’ was. How was he the only one to not know? “Oh, she’s retired for the night. She’s spent all today preparing the palace for your visit and the day before, running around with our aerial legion helping out with citizens. She told me to inform you that she is terribly sorry she couldn’t greet you.” He informed them and Cassian noted Mor’s shoulders sagged a bit. “Well, that’s alright. She sounds like she needs the rest. She will be attending the meeting tomorrow, yes?” Rhys asked and Thesan smiled. “Yes of course, though, my money is that if Beron does show, she starts a fight with him within the first five minutes.” Mor giggled at this. “She does dislike the man greatly.” Feyre commented and Thesan laughed. “Yes, she is a handful. Amazing at being a princess for politics but when it comes to personal things, she tends to forget etiquette.” Thesan laughed and everyone else joined in. Their talk of the princess didn’t last much longer and therefore it lost Cassian’s immediate interest. He trudged his way back to his room and stared at the ceiling for a good while before drifting to sleep. Princess of Dawn Court. The words ran around his head, confusing him to no end. Even Mor knew. How could she not tell him?

He dreamt of her that night. He didn’t see her, though. She was always just out of his sight. Causing him to turn around just as she would run by and escape his peripheral. He was in the throne room of the palace. She hid behind one of the thrones. The one, Cass was sure, that belonged to her, only the faintest of a blush pink gown peeking out from behind the legs. He smirked, thinking he had caught her and would finally meet this mystery, but just as he reached her, there was nothing but a cloud of light pink, orange and lavender in her wake. A sunrise. He jolted when he heard laughing from the doorway. Azriel. Almost mocking him. This made Cassian even more annoyed. His brother. Keeping a secret from him? Now Cassian was jealous of Azriel. Like an odd twist of fate. Cassian began walking towards the shadowsinger just as he noticed the similar gown poking out from behind the warrior. Cassian touched Azriel to move him but just as he did so Azriel turned to shadows and the princess turned to that cloud. They floated away and intertwined and circled Cassian.

It made him spin as pink and black swirled around him. He remembered Bryaxis and his black and red cloud of nightmares. And of course, as the subconscious is the minds worse enemy, the cloud turned into just that, it’s darkness, Bryaxis’ evil, making an awful shushing noise. Cassian began to crouch as the shadows engulfed him, his heartbeat reaching an alarming rate. It was then he realized it was not making a noise, but words. “You will find her. Today.” It said, over and over. “Foolish warrior.” The words slipped and swirled around him overlapping to make the horrid noise he first perceived it to be. It was enough to make the war prince collapse to the floor, hands over his ears.

He woke up in a sweat, his sheets tangled around his naked form. He had kicked the comforter off of the bed, seemingly a while ago as he felt that they were cold. Stark contrast to his soaking, nearly steaming thin sheets. He shook his head, nearly ashamed to still have nightmares about Bryaxis. He was gone, no, he was on the loose, and clearly nowhere near this palace. But something inside him, something deep in his bones made him remember the thankful cries of the people in Velaris after the war had ended. They had called him fearless. And that small, deep part of him, wished he truly was.

Shaking his head, he strapped on his Illyrian leathers going for a little early morning training. It was nearly dawn. He decided now a better time than ever to get all worked up and sweaty. Well, more so than he already was. He just needed to blow off the nerves he had. He found the gardens soon enough, not bothering to wake anyone up to ask where the training room was. He began to swing at nothing, practicing upper cuts, balance, stance, etc. A few kicks here and there, using his wings to balance them out. Bryaxis, no, dream Bryaxis said he would meet her today. Which was nothing special. Of course he would, she was going to be at the meeting and so was he. He knew that already. He rationed this to himself in his mind, scoffing at how stupid he was to have been frightened by a dream. It was just a dream after all. He soon came to the explanation that Cassian already knew he would see the princess later today and therefore his subconscious was telling him not to worry. “Crazy fucked way of telling me not to worry.” He muttered to himself as he prepared for another kick. “I haven’t said a word, let alone tell you not to worry.” A voice came from behind him, surprising him enough to where his kick was botched, caused him to lose balance and fall flat on his back. He winced, trying to regain the air that just got knocked out of his lungs. Light, airy chuckling that made Cassian’s stomach flip sounded out behind him and he groaned as a young girl came into line of view. If he had to estimate in human years, she looked a few years younger than him. She was wearing training clothes. Tight pants of a russet color with mesh stripes of merigold, boots that reached the top of her shins of a similar color. They had slits up the sides, most likely for stylistic purposes and under them he saw gold. Her top was form fitting with a neckline similar to a halter but did cut low enough to show her bare collar. Well, it wasn’t exactly bare. There was a gold body chain that wrapped around her neck like a choker and ran down her midsection and separated in several sections. The top itself was that same gold, marigold color but this time it shone in the small light of the retreating moon and the sun that hadn’t even kissed the horizon yet. Similar plates lined her humerus in layers for protection. A cape of sheer light gold and orange draped off of one shoulder, nearly touching Cassian’s chest as she leaned over to offer a golden wrapped hand for assistance. Her arms were snaked in more gold, similar to his tattoos but he could tell these were temporary. They were sharp enough to be weapons yet didn’t cut her skin. “Y/N. You must be Cassian.” She laughed a small bit. He grinned, trying not to look so confused. His body’s reaction to her smile, that is what was confusing to him. It made his heart lunge and render his brain useless. She was stunning. Fae were supposed to be beautiful but she really was ethereal. He even noticed she was slightly sweaty. She was training. “I am. Nice to meet you. You’re up this early to train?” He asked and she smiled. “Yes, it is Dawn Court. Everyone here is kind of a morning person.” She joked and he found himself letting out a breath in a way of chuckling. She looked around, towards the East mainly. “We still have a few minutes before sunrise. Want to have a look around?” She offered and he nodded, feeling like a gentle giant next to her small form.

She showed him the palace’s vast gardens, weaving through the bushes and flowers and weeping willows on a small pathway. She told him of how she was the commander of their army. Their grounded army. One of the Peregryn’s commanded the aerial legion. She spoke of how she was constantly around sadness and fighting and pain so the gardens were her favorite part of living at the palace. So she lived there? Maybe she knows the princess. “Do you know the princess?” Cassian asked as sound of water in the distance reached his ears. She stopped smelling a flower to look at him, barely noticing the sun. A sliver of it was looking out beyond the horizon. “The princess?” She asked and he nodded. She smiled to herself. “I know the princess.” His eyes lit up at Y/N’s words and he asked more of the Princess. “Well, she’s very beautiful. But she doesn’t think so sometimes. Honestly, shes very smart but Thesan doesn’t see it. She can also be a little ditsy sometimes, kind of hating the role she has to play. I’m very close with her.” The young commander spoke. Y/N thought that if she hadn’t been the princess, she would have been sad to see Cassian’s obvious interest. But nonetheless, she was the princess and he would see in just a few hours. “Why are you so concerned?” Y/N decided to ask. She wanted to know if Cassian was more interested in title rather than personality.

“Well I never knew there was a princess! I just found out yesterday and I have been racking my mind non stop to try and think if I ever saw or heard of a princess before. So far I’ve come up empty. No one has told me.” He told Y/N and she believed him. He seemed genuinely baffled. “Well, you’re in luck,” She dove into the conversation again. “She has a type. She likes tall men with long hair and hazel eyes. You’re right up her alley.” She told Cassian and watched as his cheeks turned into the color the clouds were going to be in a few minutes. “I’ll put in a word for you.” She said, turning to face Cassian, only this made her look at the sun beyond him. It was a quarter of the way up. Her eyes flared and she gasped, grabbing his hand and turning to run.

“We have to go!” She shouted as Cassian found himself recovering from the whiplash of the moment. “You’ll miss it!” She shouted behind her to the big lug she was dragging by the hand. Cassian shouted back, chuckling. “Miss what?” He asked, getting distracted by her hand around his. It was small compared to his hand. He felt something warm start to form in his heart when he found the source of the water. It was like a giant pit in the ground except instead of dirt it was layers and layers of stones. Both rare and common. Water poured from the crevices in between each layer allowing the growth of the flora that nearly covered all of the rocks. Dozens of flowers that showed colors similar to a sunset were closed, waiting to bloom in the morning sun. A stone path led all the way to the bottom where there was a circular walkway of clean granite surrounded by the water that spilled into the bottom.

The water ran off in three different directions, Y/N explaining an underground watering system that helped water the rest of the garden from underneath. She led him to the center which was small. The pathway was wide enough for two Dawn Court people side by side. Cassian was not of the Dawn Court. He was large and burly. So he walked the circular path in awe at the waterfalls and flowers around him. He had not seen so many different kinds in his life. In the center of a circle there was a marble center that could only hold two at once. Y/N attempted to say something from the other side but Cassian couldn’t hear her. They silently worked out to meet in the middle. In theory it would work. In practice, they almost fell. Cassian caught Y/N just before she fell and chuckled as she held onto him seemingly for dear life. He smiled down at her, loving the way she seemed to smell of all of the flowers around him. As if their scent had all clung to her as she descended the path down and embedded itself into her skin, altering her natural scent to be that of those around her forever.

“I was going to say,” She said as she noticed their proximity. He was so close she felt his breath on her face. She knew, as a princess, it was inappropriate to be this close to him. But he didn’t know, and for once she was allowed to be herself without any preconceived notions. “That I helped plant most of these myself, helped them grow.” She left out the part where she used her royalty given magic to literally make them grow, but she did explain some of the flowers there. “Most of the green you see is Sedum. They are immune to heat and drought, but obviously they don’t have to worry about that here. They actually grow bigger each year on their own and require little care. “While we tried to even out the amount of flowers, the most popular planted are Delphiniums, Daylily’s and Asiatic Lily’s.” She told him and he smiled to himself. She loved flowers. “Now, I know I sound like a major green thumb, but really I wasn’t always like this. My mother actually loved to plant flowers and she used to want me to help her. Growing up, I wasn’t a huge fan of the outdoors and therefore never wanted to help her. But now that shes,” Y/N took a moment and Cassian saw the look in her eyes change. She looked up shyly at him before continuing. “Anyways, I keep this garden well cared for, for her and I’ve loved growing ever since. Some other flowers are Dianthus’, Bearded Iris’ and Peonies. They all bloom in the sunlight.” She told him with a large smile, gesturing around her. Cassian made a joke about her getting along with Elain. She explained she had not met Elain, even though she had, and how she had only heard of Feyre and Rhys. The sun was just fully above the horizon now, the bottom barely kissing the Earth, sending the sky into hues of blush, lavender and gold. The water reflected off of the sky. Cassian realized the bottom of the pool was made of mirror and some broken bits of mirror were also embedded into the rock around them for this reason. It turned the water the color of the sky. He understood why she loved it so much. They stood there and spoke for nearly another hour. She is beautiful. There is no one else more stunning than her. He thought to himself as they stood there. He thought that she should have been princess just on her personality and laugh and beauty alone. She spoke of palace guards and some of the other royals she knew, sometimes talking badly about them but this made her real to Cassian. She wasn’t a friend to everyone and wasn’t afraid to speak her mind. He was just about to ask her if she was seeing anyone when they heard shouting in the distance. People calling her name. “Shit!” She cursed and checked the sky. Cassian’s eyebrows raised but nonetheless he chuckled. It seemed she was late for something. “I’m sorry. I have to go. I would stay here forever if I could. Maybe I’ll see you later?” She offered, speaking frantically. “Will you be at the meeting later?” He asked and she smirked a little, seemingly less frantic for a moment. “Maybe.” Was the only answer she offered him before standing on her toes and pressing a kiss to his cheek and running off, ascending the way they came. She got about half way up when she stopped, confusing Cassian, and she ran back down. “Oh, and don’t come after me. Wait until you think I’m far enough away from the gardens.” She instructed him, gave him another kiss, and ran all the way back, disappearing behind the ledge at the top. She heard her yell out, “Coming! I’m coming!” Before her voice faded completely. Cassian’s hand touched his face where her lips had been, somehow mesmerised that he had spent an entire morning with this stranger. Not so much of a stranger anymore. After waiting for about five minutes in a trance, he ascended the walkway all the way back to his room, hoping he would see more of Y/N.

Cassian got ready for the meeting alone. He spent the entire shower contemplating what he believed in. Was love at first sight real? He already knew he liked her. Wanted to court her. Would she feel the same? When would he tell her? Cassian brushed these thoughts out of his mind by running his hands through his hair and shut off his shower with a forceful push. Cass arrived early, meeting up with Azriel, Feyre and Rhys right outside the meeting room. “Where were you this morning?” She asked. “I was out exploring the gardens with someone.” He smirked and Rhys looked nearly astonished. Azriel looked at him with a quizzical expression but said nothing. “Really? Who is this mystery girl?” Rhys inquired. “She’s the commander here. Not of the aerial legion. The ground army. If she’s here I’ll introduce you.” Cassian gave an innocent smile. Rhys gave Feyre a look and Azriel found it hard not to smirk himself. Cassian began to look puzzled which cued Feyre to shake the look off of her face. “I’m thrilled to meet her. She sounds like an interesting girl.” She took Cassians hand and patted it with her own. Rhys agreed and clapped Cassian on the back and Azriel just nodded. The trio prayed Y/N would play along as well, as she was approaching them now. Cassian turned just to see her in time to notice she had changed out of her fighting armor, had showered and had light makeup on. A thick, gold choker that pointed to her sternum and reached her shoulders hung around her neck. Sleeves did not attach to her dress but instead occupied most of her arm, stopping just below her armpits as the skin tight sangria colored fabric faded into gold that swirled and faded up her arm. That same dark purple-red color turned darker as it descended her forearm and stopped at her wrists. The dress itself was gorgeous. Strapless, that sangria color shone in the daylight and was tight and only reached her hips similar to a corset. The only odd part about it was right around her midsection there was a shield shaped opening that revealed the rest of the dress’ fabric. It was more of a neutral blush, slightly beige colored fabric that flowed and split down the sides.

The slit was as high as her hip and was more suggestive than Cassian would have suspected. Her feet were adorned in heels that snaked up her calves like golden snakes. Her hair was done to fit the type of cut and on one ear was a gold feather, accented to the small gold stud in her other one. She smiled at everyone, winking at Cassian, who literally tripped on his way to greet her. Azriel’s eyebrows shot up at his stumble as he brought Y/N over. “Hello, Cassian.” Y/N said, smiling up at him, her eyelids low. Cassian choked at the sound of his name on her sultry lips. She looked like a predator who’s prey was tripping in it’s own trap. Her eyes never left him even as his eyes could barely look at her without his cheeks turning red. Feyre and Rhys both had never seen Cassian so flustered. “Everyone,” Cassian began after regaining himself, clearing his throat and fidgeting with his siphon. “This is Y/N.” Cassian introduced the young woman and finally her eyes tore from his face. God, she knew she wanted him. When Y/N was sure Cassian wasn’t looking at her, she winked before ‘introducing’ herself to everyone. Feyre was willing to play along. “I am Feyre. High Lady of Night Court. This is my mate, Rhysand, High Lord of Night Court. This is Azriel,” Feyre introduced the shadowsinger Y/N had already met a thousand times and he smirked as he leaned forward and kissed her hand. He smirked under the dorsal side of her hand, knowing he was going to get a couple bruises from her for that later. Y/N and Azriel were actually quite good friends and a long time ago, hundreds of years, had been lovers for a singular night. She had seen Az loved Mor, also one of Y/N’s closest friends, and settled for being Az’s best friend instead. In her eyes, she enjoyed his company more that way.

Mor had walked into the hallway at this point and her eyes shone at the sight of Y/N the moment their gazes connected. Feyre must have sent her a message through her mind because Mor’s eyebrows went back down and she walked over, asking who this is. “Y/N. Commander of the ground legion here at Dawn.” She introduced herself. Mor shook her hand skeptically and looked to Cassian. Quickly putting two and two together, Mor’s eyes seemed to say ‘Oh!’ before smirking and introducing herself. It was a wonder Cassian hadn’t caught on by now, but he didn’t have time to dwell. Two guards emerged from the room chosen and informed everyone that the meeting would begin soon. Cassian had begun to filter into the room with everyone else but stopped when he noticed Y/N wasn’t following. “Y/N?” He asked, walking towards her, noticing more officials walk down the hallway. They were aways away and Y/N looked as though she was waiting for someone. “Go inside, I’m alright. I’m supposed to, uh, be here when the princess arrives. She’s always the last to show.” She explained and kissed Cassian on the cheek before he nodded, worried, but relented and went into the room. Cassian could have sworn he heard her arguing with someone just before the doors closed and Cassian took his seat. Cassian noted Beron and his sentries. No Eris. He was relieved. Mor didn’t need him to be here. The meeting began with Thesan. “As you all know, we are here to discuss a new idea for the treaty. Now there are many, many details to be worked out. We have brought Beron here because he is the closest to where the wall was before right next to Tamlin, who has declined to come.” Cassian saw Feyre fidget, just for a moment, in her seat. “If we come to a conclusion, we will share it with the other High Lords. But of course, not everyone is here yet. Please rise and welcome my cousin, Princess of Dawn Court,” Cassian rose with everyone as the doors opened behind him. Thesan’s arm extended to point behind Cassian and Azriel. Harps begun to play as the royal entered the room. Cassian turned around just as Thesan finished speaking. “Y/N.” Y/N entered the room, her fingers intertwined with each other as she walked through the room, her dress trailing behind her, as she took the empty seat next to Thesan. This time, her head was adorned with a small crown she had not been wearing moments before. Gold racing in between each other like vines, coming down to a point. No gems. Elegant but simple. Cassian swore he heard his jaw hit the floor. Seated not but three feet in front of him was the commander he met that morning, her hair sweaty in the dim light. ‘I have to be with the princess when she gets here’ my ass. She is the princess!

The meeting continued, charts splayed across the table sometimes finding new homes on the floor. Beron barely spoke and when he did, he wasn’t speaking from his ass but giving good advice. Cassian was too distracted to notice anyways. She had flirted with him. Opened up in front of him. Cursed in front of him. Kissed him and at one point, literally burped in front of him. Kissed him, albeit on the cheek, but kissed him nonetheless. Acted the opposite of a princess. Yet, here she was acting as poised as ever, as if she was a cut and press copy of a fairy tale. He watched her seemingly delicate hands cross over the maps, the papers, rough drafts as though they were glass. Be he knew how hard they could grip. How sloppy they could move. He knew how her soft lips felt when they were chapped on his cheek. Azriel leaned over and explained everything when he felt the meeting was beginning to wrap up. No conclusion but ideas were flowing. A proposal was made that Cassian didn’t hear. Azriel explained of him and the princess’ past and how it was over before it began. Cassian was angry at him for this but cooled a bit when Az explained she had never looked at him the way she did at Cassian. Azriel instructed him to go to her when it was over. She wasn’t untouchable and was single and could court people from other Courts. Cassian mulled this over that night, knowing now she would definitely be at dinner later. He really liked this beautiful girl. She was an angel. She was funny. She was kind. She wasn’t afraid to be judgemental and real and truthful. She wasn’t afraid to get her hands dirty. How could she find a partner in Cassian? Runt-of-the-litter, grown-up-in-a-dirt-camp Cassian? She had grown up in the palace, learning how to keep her elbows off the table during her three meals every day while he learned how to hold a spoon to efficiently get enough soup into his mouth while he was still caked in mud and rain?

At dinner, she had saved a spot especially for him next to her and Thesan had whispered his approval, making her blush. They talked again all night. She had felt no one else was at that dining table but them. At some point she had gotten food on her cheek and Cassian had reacted by instructing her to stop moving. This caused her to stop giggling, as well as the chatter of most of everyone else at the table. Thesan, Thesan’s lover, Feyre, Rhys, Azriel, Mor and Amren all watched as Cassian leaned in extremely close to the princess, took his thumb and wiped a bit of sauce that had somehow ended up on the side of her cheek. She looked up at him, her heart rate increasing at the intimate touch he had just given her. His thumb was still very close to her mouth. The whole world stopped around them as she carefully placed his thumb on the edge of her lips, closing her mouth around the finger tip and licking lightly. Cassian felt a shiver go down his spin as her tongue lightly brushed the pad of his finger, forgetting they, in fact, were not alone. Her eyes were dark looking up into his hazel ones, but the moment her lips released his thumb, she gave him a bright innocent smile and said, “All better.” She then returned to her food, frantically trying to use her powers to keep the burning sensation from reaching her cheeks. She had never been that bold. With anyone. Rhys had coughed and muttered something about the two of them needing a room as Thesan continued to pick at his plate uncomfortably. She had known Y/N since she was merely a child and to see her do that, something very adult like, he had been whipped with the realization she was not that child anymore. It was a very difficult thing to grasp, yet, he was doing his best to do so.

Cassian did not spend the night in his room. But in Y/N’s. They did not sleep together in a sexual sense, however they did spend most of the night talking about their lives. They shared their first real kiss that night and while they didn’t go all the way, Cassian woke up without a shirt the next morning. He remembered the last night as the princess, still in asleep in his arms, stirred. He had revealed small parts of him even Feyre did not know yet, and wouldn’t unless she decided to raid his mind. She fell for him that night and Cassian brought up the idea of courting her. She had decided that would be an amazing idea and the next day, Y/N told Thesan she would be visiting the Night Court when Cassian and the others would leave. Not forever, she had clarified. Just for a visit.

And visit she did. When in Velaris, Cassian flew her over the city at night. Showed her the House of Wind and the Rainbow of Velaris. He showed her what the sky looked like in the darkest part of the city and she had stared in awe at how beautiful it was. Cassian made a comment it wasn’t as stunning as her which caused her to cackle and eventually snort which in turn made Cassian burst out laughing. Normally it was embarrassing for her, but with Cassian, it felt normal. She felt at home. Suddenly Y/N recalled how Feyre felt at home in Velaris as well and she wondered if that was just an effect the city had on her. One look at Cassian told her it wasn’t Velaris that made her feel like she was home, but Cassian. Cassian was her home.

#Cassian x reader #cassian acotar x reader #cassian acotar #azriel #rhysand #rhys #feyre #mor #amren #acowar #acomaf #acotar #acotar imagines #thesan

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