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criminalmindzjunkie · 3 years

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Hungry Eyes

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Summary: Spencer is tired of hiding your relationship.

A/N: The idea for this fic came from a lovely anon that requested a fic based on She’s So Nice by Pink Guy. I also drew inspo from Hungry Eyes by Eric Carmen (strange mix, but stay with me here.) So basically, a lot of Dom!Spencer goodness. I’d like to say a huge thank you for almost 1k followers, because wow. I never imagined 5 people would actually want to read my writing. I love you all, and I hope you all enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it. Let me know if you’d like to be tagged in future works!

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem! Reader

Warnings: swearing, jealousy, degradation, spitting, slapping, oral sex (male and female receiving), spanking, vaginal penetration, unprotected sex

Word Count: 5.5k

“That is one fine piece of ass. Don’t think I could get any work done with a sweet little thing like that prancing around my precinct,” mutters yet another sleezeball detective, beady eyes trained on you like a lion might study their prospective prey. It’s moments like these that Spencer has to remind himself that patience is a virtue – that he must bite his tongue because he’s at work and that means he has to act professional. Even if those around him don’t seem capable of affording him the same luxury.

So, it’s with a clenched jaw and all the self-restraint that he can muster that Spencer forces himself to focus on the task at hand. Because Spencer is a professional, and there are more pressing matters that demand his undivided attention. The detective could be dealt with later – in the form of a complaint to the higher ups. But for now, patience.

Usually, this wouldn’t be a problem. Years on the job had taught Spencer to remain level headed no matter the circumstance. Usually, Spencer could tune out the locker room talk in favor of immersing himself into the case. But when it came to you, or rather, people who dared to look upon you with eyes laden with lustful intentions, Spencer had a rather short fuse.

It happens often, and he supposes that he shouldn’t be surprised. You’d certainly turned his head the first time he was fortunate enough to lay eyes on you. He’d nearly broken his neck trying to steal another glimpse of you as you walked past him on your way to Emily’s office on your first day. No one would ever describe Spencer Reid as forward, but on that day, he was the most brazen he’d ever been.

Throwing caution to the wind, Spencer made a split-second decision stop you and introduce himself.

It was the best decision he would ever make.

So, yes – he understood why the head of everyone you passed turned your way, eager to bask in your unparalleled beauty. But that didn’t mean that he had to like it. In fact, every time Spencer caught some imprudent bastard leering at you, he had to remind himself that enacting physical force on another person with no real reason could cost him his job. That, and he was above resorting to violence – or at least he was, until you came around.

Part of his anger was rooted in the obvious lack of respect. It didn’t matter if Spencer held your hand in his as the two of you walked down the street, or if he kissed you on the lips in the middle of a crowded restaurant. All the PDA in the world did nothing to assuage the lingering stares, and Spencer felt his sanity chip away with every passing day.

In the beginning, keeping his relationship with you a secret from your colleagues seemed like a good enough idea. Both of you were in agreement that you didn’t want to your personal relationship to affect your professional one, so when the elevator doors opened up and the two of you stepped out into the bullpen, you both were on your best behavior. And it was okay at first – Spencer was able to put his romantic feelings aside and focus on his work, all while still being able to make eyes at you from across the room. It was the perfect arrangement.

Until it wasn’t.

Because it wasn’t enough that you were gorgeous – you were also the most selfless person that Spencer had ever met. Always eager to lend a hand to anyone in need – always seeing the best in everyone, regardless of if they deserve it or not. It was an admirable quality to have, and he loved you for it, but on days like today he wishes you were a little more perceptive.

That, and he wishes you’d chosen to wear anything but the tight little skirt and low-cut top that you were currently sporting. Not that he didn’t love the way the fabric clung to your figure like it was tailor-made for you – because he did - it was just that every other male in the precinct seemed to enjoy it as much as he did. And that made Spencer’s blood boil.

The tipping point comes when, just as Spencer is trying to hunt you down and propose a quick lunch break, he finds you engaging in conversation with the very same detective that had been spouting lewd comments about you all morning. You’re seated at the breakroom table, clutching a fresh cup of coffee in hand as you look up at the man, a polite smile upturning your lips as you listen to him drone on about how his amateur baseball team had won some stupid fucking tournament the previous weekend. He’s smiling down at you, endlessly smug and way too pleased with himself at having captured your attention.

It makes Spencer sick.

His reprieve comes when your eyes flit to the doorway and you flash him a breathtaking smile. It makes him warm from the inside out, and Spencer wants nothing more than to plant kiss after kiss on your lips. Unfortunately, he can’t, so he settles on returning your smile.

“There you are,” Spencer greets as he crosses the room before coming to a stop next to you. “I was thinking we could go grab lunch.”

“Is it really lunch time already?” you murmur as you glance down at your watch. “I guess I let the day get away from me. Detective Yarborough was just telling me about the baseball game his team won this weekend.”

“Oh, was he now,” Spencer feigns interest as he turns to face the man.

“Yup,” you say, completely oblivious to the uncomfortable tension. “Didn’t you tell me you played in a baseball game once?”

This piques the interest of Yarborough and he raises an eyebrow at Spencer.

“You play?” he asks, tone laden with disbelief.

“Not exactly.”

The detective merely harrumphs in response, and an uncomfortable silence falls on the room.

Your eyes dart between the two men and your brows furrow adorably as you try to make sense of the almost palpable animosity.

“Okay… So, lunch. Did you have anything in mind, Spence?”

“There’s a really good pizza joint two blocks from here,” Yarborough chimes in. “I could show you, if you like.”

He acts as if the offer extends to you both, but the way he looks only at you when he says it tells Spencer otherwise.

“The hospitality is appreciated, but that won’t be necessary,” Spencer breezes, clipped and to the point. He’s able to see in his peripheral vision the way your eyebrows raise in shock, but he’s too busy glaring at the detective to care.

“Uh, yeah. Thanks anyways, Detective,” you mutter confusedly as you stand.

“Anything for a pretty lady such as yourself,” he replies. “And you can call me Trevor.”

Spencer’s hands are clenched into fists and he has to actually bite down on his tongue to keep from doing something he’d surely regret later. You bid Trevor ado with a smile and a parting wave, and then Spencer’s ushering you out of the room and down the hall, hand placed firmly on your back. He can’t do much in regards to initiating physical contact, but he allows himself this miniscule act of PDA. The feeling of your warmth radiating through your blouse is the only thing keeping him from giving into his primal instincts. Instincts that are screaming at him to put that smarmy bastard in his place.

The hours after lunch pass by rather uneventfully. You accompany Tara when she goes to interview the victim’s family, and for the first-time all-day Spencer is able to repress his frustration long enough to focus on piecing together a geographical profile. By the time you and Tara return, the sun has long since disappeared from the sky and fatigue is rolling off everyone in waves. When Emily finally announces the end of the day, she’s met with absolutely no resistance.

Spencer immediately scans the room for you, only to frown when he sees that you’re nowhere in sight. In fact, he hasn’t set eyes on you in well over an hour, too busy wrapping up the days’ work to notice your absence until now.

“Has anyone seen Y/N?” Spencer calls out. His question is met by several shaking heads.

“I think she’s busy,” JJ sing-songs, eyebrows waggling suggestively. Spencer’s frown only deepens.

“Busy?”

JJ nods.

“Yarborough has been chomping at the bit to ask her to dinner. My guess is he’s got her cornered somewhere.”

Of fucking course.

Spencer’s out of his seat and stomping through the precinct in second, oblivious to the way his coworkers exchange curious glances as he storms off.

He finds the two of you in much the same way as before, only this time Trevor is blocking your path to the doorway, hand in the air as he moves to tuck a stray piece of your hair behind your ear.

“– C’mon, babe. Say you’ll go to dinner with me,” Trevor croons in a way that’s supposed to come off as seductive. “I’ll make it worth your while.”

You lean backwards in an attempt to evade his touch, and you barely get the chance to open your mouth when Spencer intervenes.

“She’s not interested.”

The detective whips around, snorting in annoyance when he sees Spencer standing in the doorway.

“What are you, her fucking keeper?” Trevor sneers, before turning back to face you. “Who does this guy think he is?”

Something in Spencer snaps, then – the same something that has been swelling inside him for months, threatening to spill over every time he had to pretend that the stares didn’t enrage him. He’s tired of pretending, tired of hiding, and so, so fucking tired of not putting assholes like Trevor Yarborough in their place.

Fueled by months of suppressed anger, Spencer manages to cross the room in about two seconds. He has several inches on the detective, standing at an intimidating six-foot one inch in height, so when he comes to a stop right in front of the detective, he’s looming over him threateningly.

“I’m her fucking boyfriend, and if you so much as try to touch her again, I’ll break your goddamn hand,” Spencer spits out, and he’d be lying if he said the way Trevor’s eyes widen in fear doesn’t thrill him. “Are we clear?”

“Uh, yeah. Sorry, dude,” Trevor splutters, raising his hands in surrender. “Didn’t know she was taken. My bad.”

Spencer tears his eyes away from the detective and takes in the way you’re watching on with an amused expression. He reaches out, and you’re quick to place your hand in his. Without speaking another word to the detective, Spencer leads you from the room and out the back entrance of the precinct.

“What was that?” you tease, eyes glistening mischievously underneath the street lights. “I thought we agreed that we weren’t taking things public just yet?”

Spencer crowds you against the brick wall of the building, pressing his body flush against yours. He ducks down swiftly, pulling you into a frenzied kiss. His lips drag against yours relentlessly, and all it takes is one breathy moan before he’s licking into your mouth possessively. Spencer slots his knee in between your legs, simultaneously groping at your chest with one hand as the other tangles in your hair.

When Spencer pulls away, he doesn’t go far. His lips leave a trail of wet kisses down your neck as you writhe against him, hands clinging tightly to his dress shirt. You whimper when his teeth nip at the tender spot right under your ear, and you can’t help the way your hips cant up when Spencer’s tongue brushes against reddened skin.

“I’m tired of pretending,” Spencer murmurs as his mouth continues to move against you, sucking purple bruises against your flesh. “Don’t fucking care about how it will affect the job. Tomorrow, everyone’s gonna know that you’re mine. Gonna mark every inch of you tonight – gonna fuck you until you can’t fucking walk.”

“Please,” you slur as you guide Spencer’s hand down until his fingers graze the end of your skirt. Spencer chuckles darkly against your neck when his hand brushes against the soiled lace of your panties.

“Didn’t mean I’d fuck you right here,” he laughs, prompting you to let out an impatient whine. The hand that was previously tangled in your hair slides down until it’s wrapped around your throat, and Spencer’s cock twitches eagerly in his pants when you push your throat harder into his palm. “Such a needy little slut for me. Ready and willing for me to fuck you out in the open, where anyone could walk by and see how fucking desperate you are for my cock.”

“M’ your slut,” you pant as Spencer’s middle and index fingers ghost across your center. “Only yours, Spence. I don’t care who sees, just - please fuck me!”

“I fucking own you,” Spencer growls against your lips as he tightens his hold on your throat. “And as much as I’d love to take you right against this wall, the things I have planned for you would elicit quite an audience. I know how loud you like to be.”

Spencer pushes your panties to the side and you let out a low hiss as he drags a finger across where want him most. You cry out in frustration when he removes his hand to bring it up to his mouth, tongue darting out to lick his finger clean.

“Just needed a little taste to tide me over,” Spencer murmurs, smirking devilishly at you as he steps back from you. “Let’s head back to the hotel. I’ve got lots I wanna do to you, pretty girl.”

As soon as the door to the hotel room clicks shut, clothes are flying off as the two of you make your way to the bed. It’s a mad dash as you both undress, and as soon as the last garment leaves your body, Spencer pounces on you. Your lips meet in a passionate kiss, and the way you immediately go pliant as Spencer’s mouth works against yours makes him hum appreciatively.

“Don’t feel like being nice tonight. Are you gonna let me use that pretty little pussy however I want?” Spencer inquires, though he already knows the answer. He’s known how tonight would pan out ever since the first roll of your hips against his back at the police station.

You nod fervently, hopelessly, and Spencer moves his hand up to grip your chin in his hand. The pad of his thumb traces over the swollen skin of your kiss bruised lips.

“What about this?” he asks, tapping lightly against your lip. “Are you gonna let me fuck this slutty little mouth of yours?” Spencer slips his thumb into your mouth and you immediately close your lips around the digit, suckling lightly. Your eyes never leave his.

“You’d do anything I asked you to, wouldn’t you, pet?” Spencer muses, pressing his thumb farther into your mouth until you gag around him. Spencer withdraws his thumb and his hand tugs hard on the hair at the back of your scalp. “Open.”

You oblige immediately, and Spencer spits into your waiting mouth. You swallow without being instructed, and the visual of it makes Spencer let out a low groan.

“Get on your knees,” Spencer barks out, and the way you scramble to follow his order makes him let out a chuckle. “So eager to have my cock in your mouth,” he hums as he taps his dick teasingly against your cheek. You open your mouth wide for him, and Spencer guides your mouth down onto his dick at a tantalizingly slow pace. You let out a moan as you hollow your cheeks around his head, tongue lapping greedily at the precum that gathered there before Spencer makes you take him deeper.

“Everyone thinks you’re such an innocent little thing, but here you are, letting me use you like a cheap whore while you enjoy every minute of it,” Spencer says through gritted teeth as you moan wantonly around his cock. It isn’t until he’s halfway down your throat that your eyes begin to water, mascara running down your cheeks as he fucks into your mouth.

Spencer lets out a choked sound when your nose brushes against the skin of his abdomen, and he has to fight the urge to throw his head back in pleasure. He doesn’t want to look away, not even for a moment. Not when you’re looking up at him like that, tears running down your face as you swallow around his length.

He pulls you off him just the tiniest bit before he’s forcing you back down, a string of curses falling from his lips as your head bobs up and down.

“You take my cock so well, pretty girl,” Spencer praises, prompting you to let out a muffled moan around him. The vibrations send a shock of pleasure through him and he can help the way his hips stutter. “Fuck, baby. You like it when I tell you what a perfect little whore you are, don’t you?”

You’re unable to answer, because Spencer presses down on the back of your head until you’ve taken all of him again. The pressure he puts on you doesn’t relent, not even when you gag around him.

“Fucking choke on it, slut,” Spencer grunts. “Don’t act like you don’t want this. You were just begging me to fuck you in an alley not twenty minutes ago, like some pathetic fucking tramp. You wanna act like a tramp, I’m gonna treat you like one.”

Spencer’s lips curl into a debauched grin when your hands come up and grip the backs of his thighs, pulling him closer and further down your throat.

“That’s what I fucking thought,” Spencer moans, giving several more harsh thrusts before pulling you off of him completely. Spencer reaches down to wipe at the spit that coats your lips as you look up at him with a shy smile.

“You okay, pretty girl?” Spencer asks as he caresses the side of your face.

“Mm,” you hum, nuzzling your face against his palm. “Keep going, please. Don’t hold back.”

“God, I fucking love you,” Spencer sighs happily. “Get on the bed.”

By the time Spencer fishes a tie out of his suitcase, you’re sprawled out across the bed, head resting against the pillows with your legs spread wide. Your teeth are nestled against your bottom lip as you watch him stalk towards you, eyes running up and down his naked figure appreciatively.

Spencer crawls onto the bed until he’s settled in between your legs. You present your wrists to him, just like you’ve done a million times before, and Spencer feels that familiar thrum of excitement rush through his body. He fucking lives for moments like these – moments where all his problems melt away to nothing. Moments where he has no other thought than wrecking you, thoroughly and completely.

Once your wrists are bound you hold them above you, and Spencer sits back on his heels, eyes raking up and down every inch of you.

“M’ so fucking lucky to be the only one who gets to see you like this.”

Spencer pinches your right nipple in between his fingers and you let out a squeak, hips bucking up, desperate for some friction. He kneads your breast in his hand as he lowers his mouth to the other one, tongue laving around you. A light nip from his teeth is all that it takes for you to cry out, eyelids fluttering closed.

“Spence, please. Need you to touch me now, pl-”

Spencer’s hand connecting with your cheek stops you from finishing your sentence.

“Do not tell me what to do,” Spencer seethes, once again gripping your chin to keep you from looking away. “Ungrateful slut. I should just leave you here, fucking dripping and desperate for a release that you won’t get. Maybe then you’d learn to take what’s given to you.”

“Please, no! I’ll be good, I swear. I’m sorry!”

Spencer narrows his eyes at you, contemplative.

“Open.”

You do as he says, and without another word Spencer inserts two fingers into your mouth, pressing down hard on your tongue.

“Get them nice and wet, and maybe I’ll think about using them on you.”

You do as he tells you, and by the time Spencer removes his fingers from your mouth, you’re trembling underneath him from anticipation.

“D-Did I do good?” you stutter out, batting your lashes at him as you squirm under his gaze.

“So good, baby. I think you’ve earned my fingers,” Spencer hums. “Need you to be still, okay? You’re not gonna like what happens if you try to move.”

You nod enthusiastically, eyes fluttering shut when his fingers brush across your clit. Spencer spends ample time rubbing deliciously slow circles over your sensitive bundle of nerves, relishing in every gasp and whimper that falls from your lips. Lips that he’d very much like to kiss, so he does, and you’re more than happy to reciprocate. Spencer lets out a happy sigh into your mouth.

You get lost in the kiss, so lost in the way that Spencer licks into your mouth that it catches you completely off guard when he slides two fingers into you.

“Oh, God,” you moan when Spencer curls his fingers against your walls, fucking them in and out of you, slow and unrelenting.

“S’that feel good, princess?” Spencer asks, a teasing lilt to his voice. “Tell me how it feels.”

Your head falls back against the pillows as you struggle to keep your hips firmly placed on the mattress.

“Feels amazing, Spence. Always feels so good with you. Never want anyone else, only you.”

And fuck, if that sentiment doesn’t shoot straight to his heart - amongst other places. Spencer places a tender kiss to your cheek before he’s moving down to your neck and sucking a bruise right under your jaw.

“Yeah?” Spencer prompts. “Not even that stupid fucking detective? I’m sure he’d love a chance to see you like this.”

“So, you were jealous,” you chuckle between moans, and Spencer bites down hard where your neck meets your shoulder.

“F-Fuck, Spencer!”

“Should I be jealous?” Spencer speeds up the onslaught of his fingers, scissoring them at such an unforgiving pace that you can’t help but roll your hips against them.

You regret this instantly, because Spencer’s fingers immediately pull out of you, leaving you empty and cold. Spencer tuts, shaking his head disappointedly.

“Dumb little whore can’t even sit still long enough to cum on my fingers.”

“Please, let me try again. I’ll do better, I promise!”

Spencer shakes his head and scoots up until his back is rested against the pillows.

“C’mere,” he commands. “Lay across my lap. Or can you not follow simple commands?”

“I-I can,” you whisper as you crawl across him, splaying out so that you rest on your elbows with your ass in the air.

Spencer grabs a handful of your ass and kneads it in his hands.

“How many do you think you deserve?”

You blush and smile shyly at him from over your shoulder.

“However many you want to give me. I can take it.”

Spencer returns your smile.

“Good answer. I think you can handle fifteen. How does that sound?”

“Sounds perfect. T-Thank you, Spencer,” you mumble, cheeks burning red. Spencer continues to caress the tender skin of your bare ass, admiring the way the skin is completely blank; the perfect canvas.

You let out a whimper when his hand comes down hard on your ass before kneading the sensitive, reddening skin.

“T-Thank you,” you gasp out, and Spencer is quick to follow up with another strike against the opposite cheek.

It goes on like this until it’s time for the fifteenth strike, and by then you’ve devolved into garbled whines, ass bright red and marked up with the imprint of Spencer’s hands. His dick is painfully hard underneath you, and you’re in a similar state – arousal dripping onto Spencer’s thigh, coating it.

“Last one, baby. Do you think you can handle it?”

“Y-Yes,” you choke out. “Please, I need it. Hurt me, please.”

The desperation in your voice does things to him, makes him practically feral with the need to fucking tear you apart, and Spencer is quick to deliver the final blow. You barely even have it in you to cry out anymore – a feeble sob is all that falls from your lips.

Spencer’s hand ghosts down across your bruised skin until his fingertips trace over where you drip for him.

“You like it when I punish you, don’t you, dirty girl?” Spencer hums as his fingers glide over your soaked folds.

“Y-Yes,” you mewl, shifting so that your cunt grinds back onto his hand. Spencer indulges you - allows you to rock your hips against his palm as he watches on in awe, soaking up every desperate sound that tumbles past your lips.

Spencer pulls his hand away after a moment and you keen in protest.

“Can you sit up for me, sweet girl?” Spencer asks, and you nod, because of course you do – you’d do anything if you thought it’d please him. You struggle to pull yourself up with shaky limbs, and Spencer puts a hand on your lower back to steady you. “Can you straddle my leg? Yeah, just like that.” Spencer pulls you down and places a slow kiss to your lips, one hand coming up to wipe away the tears gliding down your face. After a moment of slow, sweet kisses are shared, Spencer unties your wrists.

“I want you to ride my thigh – can you do that, princess?”

You whimper as you lower yourself down onto his leg, eyes fluttering shut as you begin to rock against the hardened muscle of his leg.

Spencer continues placing kisses on your lips, your face, your neck – worshipping every inch of skin he can reach with his mouth, all while whispering praises against you.

“So perfect for me. Prettiest girl I’ve ever seen,” he murmurs as he grips your hips with steady hands, urging you to increase the speed of your hips. “Can’t wait to have that perfect pussy wrapped around my cock. Always so tight, yet you take it so well every time.”

“S-Spence, m’ close,” you slur, hands clinging desperately to his shoulders.

“Already? You usually last a bit longer than that, baby.”

“P-Please, Spencer, I can’t-” you whimper, tears once again pricking at the corners of your eyes at the thought of having to wait a second longer.

“Shh, baby. It’s okay, you can cum,” Spencer reassures you, and your shoulders visibly untense. “Cum for me, pretty girl.”

It takes two more rolls of your hips for you to cum on Spencer’s thigh with a cry of his name. Spencer rubs soothing circles into your hips as you ride out your high, murmuring broken thank yous as you come down.

Finally, you still, and your eyes open, pupils so dilated that your eyes look almost black in the dim light of the hotel room.

“You okay, princess?”

You give a weak nod.

“M’great,” you smile, sounding as fucked out as he’s ever heard you. You lean down and slot your mouth against his, and the kiss is slow and languid – soft and unhurried.

Spencer is the first to pull away.

“Need you to get on all fours for me,” he instructs. “Don’t think you need to put any pressure on that pretty little ass of yours right now.”

You giggle at that, before crawling off of Spencer’s lap. You assume the position, and Spencer places a pillow underneath your hips before trailing a line of kisses down your spine. By the time he reaches your ass, you’re writing against him, wiggling your hips eagerly. Spencer places a kiss to both of your bruised cheeks before pulling away.

You let out a startled oh! when Spencer licks up your center, parting you with his fingers before fucking in and out of you with his tongue.

“S-Spence, oh my God, yes!” you cry out, hands fisting in the sheets as he continues to work his mouth against your core.

“Love your fucking pussy so much,” Spencer sighs against you, lapping at your clit hungrily. “Could fucking lick you out for hours. You taste so perfect, Y/N.”

Spencer lets out a filthy groan against you, and that’s all it takes for you to fall over the edge, wrecked moans filling the otherwise silent hotel room. This orgasm hits you both quicker and harder than the first, and he can’t help but smile against you as you rock back against his face, desperate to prolong the sensation. Spencer continues to work you through your orgasm, stopping only when you cease to twitch underneath him.

“Such a good girl for me. Think you can handle one more?”

You raise up just enough that you can look at him from over your shoulder.

“Yes, please,” you beg, voice scratchy and raw. “Please, fuck me.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Spencer chuckles. “Do you think you can lay on your back? I wanna see that pretty face when I make you cum on my cock.”

You answer by rolling over, wincing slightly when your ass comes in contact with the sheets. You look up at Spencer with wide, doe eyes. You have mascara smeared all down your cheeks and your lips are swollen, and to top it all off, deep, purple love bites are dusted across the entire expanse of your neck and chest. Spencer had set out to mark you as his – so that no one would be able to deny that you belonged to him – and he’d done a spectacular job, if he said so himself.

“God, you’re so fucking pretty.”

“Then come fuck me already,” you challenge, looking sated in every possible way – yet still, your eyes hold the same hunger that he’s sure is reflected in his own eyes.

Spencer leans down and traps your lips in a bruising kiss, and without warning he thrusts in you to the hilt. You cry out into the kiss, startled by the sudden intrusion, but Spencer sets a brutal pace that leaves you no time to recover.

“You said you wanted me to fuck you,” he growls against your lips. “Now fucking take it.”

He’s fucking into you so hard that you can’t even manage a reply – you just tighten your legs around his waist and drag your nails across the expanse of his back, no doubt leaving bright red marks in your wake. Spencer can feel his own release fast approaching – honestly, he’s been close ever since the first drag of his tongue against your pussy. And now that he’s finally enveloped into your tight, wet heat, that all too familiar feeling in the pit of his stomach is threatening to consume him.

Spencer’s hand descends from its place next to your head down to your clit, and your whole body jolts with the first swipe of his thumb. You clench around him as a litany of particularly filthy utterances escapes you, and Spencer’s hips stutter.

“Fuck, princess,” he groans, head coming to rest on your shoulder as he struggles to regain his rhythm. “You don’t even know what you do to me. You’ve ruined me for anyone else. Never fucking want to lose you. Love you so much.”

“I love you, I love you, I love you,” you chant into his ear, sounding like some kind of siren, luring him straight to his inevitable ruination. “I’m so close, Spence. Cum with me, please? I want to feel you. Please, baby.”

“Y-Yeah, fuck,” Spencer chokes out. “Say my name when you cum, princess. Want everyone to know how good I fuck you.”

And when you cum with a shout of his name, walls pulsating deliciously around his cock, Spencer is quick to join you. He continues to roll his hips against yours as you both ride it out, whispers of almost intelligible affirmations being shared between slow, loving kisses.

After a moment of post-orgasm bliss, Spencer leaves and returns with a bottle of cocoa butter lotion and a warm, wet rag. You watch on with heavy lidded eyes as he cleans you up, and for a moment, he thinks you’ve fallen asleep. It’s not until he finishes slathering your reddened backside with lotion that you speak again.

“You shouldn’t be jealous, by the way,” you murmur as he lays down beside you. “You’re it for me, Spencer Reid. I don’t ever want you to doubt that I’m anything less than crazy about you.”

It’s everything that Spencer’s ever wanted to hear, and just like that, every fear – every insecurity that had plagued him in the past several months – fell away to nothing. Suddenly, he couldn’t remember why he’d ever been worried in the first place.

“You’re it for me, too,” Spencer whispers as he pulls you until his arms and presses a soft kiss to the top of your head.

“We’re going to have a lot of explaining to do tomorrow, you know,” you remark as you nuzzle into Spencer’s side.

“Don’t care,” he sighs happily. “I’ll shout it from the roof tops if I have to. I want everyone to know you’re my girl.”

“You’re a sap, Doctor Reid.”

“Only for you.”

A moment of blissful silence passes, before the sound of your growling stomach sets you both into a fit of giggles.

“We never did get dinner, did we?” Spencer muses as he lightly runs his fingernails across your scalp. You hum appreciatively and a pleased shiver rolls through you.

“Nope. You were a little too preoccupied with marking your territory to even offer to feed me,” you tease as you run your fingertips down the planes of his chest.

“Well, now that that’s been taken care of - could I interest you in some takeout?”

“Possibly,” you sigh, flattening your palm on his chest, right over his heart. “Do you think that pizza place Trevor mentioned delivers?”

“I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that.”

“Is that a no?”

“... Look up the number.”

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dreamerstreamer · 3 years

Text

Somewhere Only We Know

Pairing: god!Dream / DreamXD x gn!reader

Summary: [Reincarnation!AU & Dream SMP!AU] Being a god can be especially lonely—Dream knows that better than anyone. Yet somehow, you always manage to find your way back to him in every life you live. If only it didn’t hurt so much to love you.

Warnings: tw// mention of death

Word Count: 5.6k

A/N: requested by the lovely 🤡 anon, who asked for a piece based on keane’s somewhere only we know! i got rather carried away when writing this, and it’s certainly quite sad, but i hope you all enjoy it! <3

Dream blinks lazily up at the fluffy clouds drifting across the cerulean sky, his emerald eyes tracing over their soft edges. He hums to himself as one of them drifts in front of the sun, the warm light suddenly leaving his face. Frowning, he sits up a little straighter, raising his arm above his head. He snaps his fingers once, and in an instant, the clouds vanish. Warmth floods his cheeks as the sun’s brilliant rays crash over him once more. He smiles, but it’s melancholic, a forlorn look passing over his face.

Just how long has he been alone like this?

Sighing, he rises to his feet, kicking at the soft dirt beneath the soles of his boots. His viridian cloak is light atop his shoulders, his wings neatly folded underneath the soft fabric. Above his head, his halos glow with a dazzling golden hue, sending beams of amber light flashing across the nearby tree trunks. Rolling his neck, he snaps his fingers again, and his wings and halos vanish in a flash. Just like that, the weight on his back dissipates, and his lips twitch. There—that’s much lighter.

His gaze flickers over to the waterfall lying just a yard away, rushing ripples of water streaming down the short cliff face and into the pool lying at its base. He crouches down next to the small pond, brushing his hand over the soft soil beneath his feet. Sparks shoot up his arm and into his fingertips, the earth suddenly bursting to life underneath his touch.

All of a sudden, a blossom sprouts from the ground, soft and pink as it unfurls its petals and soaks up the warm sunshine. Dream grins as row after row of flowers shoot up from the ground, circling around the pond and lining the trees around the clearing until suddenly, the whole space is surrounded by breathtaking blossoms. He stands back with a satisfied hum, glancing around himself with an almost nostalgic gleam in his gaze.

It’s been ages since he last returned to this little alcove in his favourite forest. He could tell no one else had stepped foot here except for him, too. After all, there was only one other person who knew about this place—the only other person in the world he knew would be able to find it in the first place.

Had it been decades or centuries since he last visited? He’s not sure anymore, but really, he’s not sure if he cares, either. There’s a reason why he doesn’t come back here very often—one that he hesitates to even think about.

It’s far too painful of a memory to relive.

“Hello?”

Dream freezes, his eyes going wide at the sound of a new voice—a familiar voice. Slowly, he turns, his lips parting in awe as he sees a figure stepping into the clearing, a mix of caution and curiosity flitting across your cheeks.

He knows that face—knows you.

His heart aches at the thought.

“Hi,” he manages after a long moment, swallowing ever so slightly.

You flash him a sheepish smile, lowering your gaze to the ground almost bashfully as you brush a stray leaf off your shoulder. “I’m sorry if I’m intruding, or anything. I was just passing by when I saw the flowers, and thought they looked really pretty, and...”

You trail off, your voice growing smaller and smaller until it fades off into silence. Dream stares at you, unmoving as his heart races a mile a minute in his chest, battering against his rib cage as your timid gaze flickers to his.

“I, um,” you squeak out, feeling the intensity of his eyes on yours. “I can go if you wa—”

“No,” Dream suddenly blurts, the word flying out of his mouth before he can stop himself. He can already feel the heat flooding his chest at the way you startle in front of him, and he sucks in a breath.

“Wait,” he says, calmer this time. “Please, I—you’re not intruding at all. You can stay.” He takes a shaky step forward, offering you a crooked yet earnest smile. “I’d love it if you stayed.”

In an instant, your face lights up, and his breath hitches in his throat at the sight. “O-Oh, thank you! It’s nice to meet you. My name’s [Y/N].”

In that moment, he could have sworn his heart stopped and would never beat, again. “What’s yours?” you ask, your eyes shining like freshly cut gemstones.

His eyes scan your face for a moment, taking in the soft panes of your cheeks and the delicate curve of your lips as your smile leaves tiny cuts in his lungs.

“Dream,” he breathes at last. “Call me Dream.”

Suddenly, your eyes curve into tiny crescent moons as you grin at him, and he feels the loneliness flowing through his veins subside the tiniest bit.

Even after all this time, he still can’t bring himself to forget your smile.

Dream hums to himself as he tosses a pebble into the pond from his spot on the fallen tree log. The stream laps at the stone once before swallowing it whole, letting it sink to the murky bottom without so much as a splash. A rustle comes from behind him, and he immediately whirls, his lips curling up into an eager smile.

“[Y/N],” he chirps, bright and keen, “welcome back.”

Your glowing face greets him in return, and he nearly combusts on the spot. He still remembers the way you had promised him you would return to see him again a week ago, when you had first stumbled upon his clearing. His head still spins at the thought, and it almost makes him forget the longing ache that sinks into his bones when his gaze lingers on you for a fraction too long.

Almost.

You wave at him as you jump over a protruding tree root, crinkles forming at the corners of your eyes. “Good morning, Dream! What are you doing here so early? The market only just opened.”

He shuffles over on the log to give you room, raising an eyebrow at you. “I could ask the same of you.”

Crouching over, you settle down onto the space next to him, not at all noticing the way he stiffens when your thigh brushes against his. “I woke up early to watch the sunrise,” you say with a half-drowsy smile.

There is a beat of silence, then Dream tilts his head at you. “The sunrise?”

You bob your head, turning to look at him. “Yeah,” you murmur wistfully, raising your arm to wave your hand up at the sky above. “I love watching all the pretty colours fill the horizon. It only lasts a few minutes, but it’s so magnificent, and I always try to watch them if I can.”

His eyes flash as he takes in your gentle expression. Then, he opens his mouth, thoughtful and slow. “Sunrises, hm? What other things do you like?”

You pause for a moment. “Other things I like?” When he nods, you hum, averting your gaze from his until you find yourself staring over at the bubbling waterfall.

“I like... I like flowers,” you begin, “but you already knew that.” He chuckles at the hint of a smile that dusts your face before you continue. “I like exploring the market every Saturday, too. They always have something new to find.”

Suddenly, your eyes flicker to life, glittering with excitement. “Oh, I also like stargazing! It’s like watching the universe paint a picture with little crystals every night, and something about looking up at the sky makes me feel so small, and I... I...” You gesture vaguely, a frustrated noise escaping your throat. “I don’t know. I just like it.”

Dream cannot help the way his heart melts in his chest at the sound you make, a certain fondness seeping into his soul. You were always so endearing—always, always, always.

“What about you, Dream?” you say suddenly, looking at him curiously. “What things do you like?”

Dream blinks at you—once, twice. Suddenly, his mind is flooded with image after image, memory after memory.

He thinks of the millennia he has lived through, the cities he has watched rise and fall. He thinks of the countless distances he has wandered, travelling far and wide with a heavy loneliness hanging in his barren heart. He thinks of soft kisses pressed to calloused fingertips and fluttering eyelids.

Then, he looks at you, with your enraptured eyes and your glorious grin.

“You,” he says, sincerity gracing his every word. “I like spending time with you.”

He watches as you stammer in reply, your eyes going wide as you gape at him in a mixture of embarrassment and flattery. He laughs at you, and his heart swells in his chest.

He’s missed you—more than you would ever know.

“Say, Dream, have you ever seen the ocean?”

The sun glares harshly into your eyes from where you lie on the earth, staring up at the cobalt sky, but Dream hardly notices—his eyes are too focused on you. “I have,” he murmurs as his gaze traces over the bridge of your nose in wonder. He’s seen more of the world than he would like to admit. After all, he was the one who created it in the first place. But to you, he’s just a simple traveler with a penchant for waterfalls.

Before he can even register it, you’ve bolted upright, bending over him with an excited shout. “Really?! What’s it like?”

He jolts at the sudden movement, all too keenly aware of how close your face is to his before his shuffles into a sitting position, resting his chin on his hand. “Well,” he begins, “it’s really big. So big that you can’t see the shore on the other side no matter how hard you try. It’s blue as far as the eye can see, and the breeze kind of tastes salty if you open your mouth.”

He catches a flash of your awed expression as he waves his arm in front of him to illustrate the vast size of the ocean. “The water,” he continues, envisioning the waves as they crash onto the sand, “is nice and cold, and if you swim deep enough, you might find fish and coral. It’s relaxing to watch the tide come up into the beach. Sometimes, shells wash up onto the shore, too. You can keep those as little souvenirs.”

For a moment, you are silent as you simply stare at him, something swirling deep within your gaze. “Wow,” you say at last, sounding completely breathless. “That sounds beautiful.” You stretch your legs out in front of you, your fingers curling into the grass spread beneath your palms. “My best friend says there’s mermaids in the ocean.” You scrunch your nose. “I don’t know if I believe him, though.”

Something dark ripples through Dream, and the tiniest of frowns passes over his face. “Your best friend?” he parrots.

You nod. “Yeah—his name’s Karl. He’s really nice and likes to goof off a lot. He’s also a really good storyteller!” You look at him then, fondly and with such a kind look it almost knocks Dream right over. “I think you might like his stories.”

His lips quirk up into a coy smile, and he leans ever so slightly forward. “Would I, now?” he croons, a teasing lilt tinting his tone. “What kind of stories does he like to tell?”

You clasp your hands together, excitement brimming in your face. “Oh, wonderful ones! There’s the one about the sleepy fox, the one about the pig who could not be killed, and the one about how we all face reincarnation after death, but my favourite,” you murmur, “is about the creation of the world.”

Dream goes still at that, his smile faltering for a split second. “How does that one go?” he asks softly.

You scoot the tiniest bit closer to his side, your gaze lowering ever so slightly. “Once upon a time,” you start, your voice as smooth as velvet, “a god descended from the heavens and carved the world into the shape it is today.” You traced your finger along the soft dirt. “He made valleys and hills, oceans and rivers, decorating the land with flowers and trees. The world he made was beautiful, but it was lonely, so he filled it with people to keep him company. He was so full of joy to have friends, until one day, he fell in love.”

Your demeanour, which had been cheerful up until this point, suddenly shifted, darkening as you let out a sigh. “He fell in love so quickly and so deeply that he was blind to the nature of his own creations, as they had a mortal lifespan, unlike him. When his lover died, a part of his soul died with them. He vanished after that, never to be seen again.” You curl your knees to your chest, resting your head upon them. “Some people say he wanders the world, mourning for all of eternity. Others say he died of heartbreak. Even fewer believe that his lover lives on and he loves them still, although they’re not entirely sure. Either way, he has yet to appear, and humanity quietly awaits for his return.”

Dream is silent beside you, his lips pressed into a thin line as his chest rises and falls with the timing of his breaths. “Why is that story your favourite?” he finally asks.

You lift your head, surprise shooting across your face. “I’m not sure,” you say softly, pondering for a moment. “I just think he sounds so... sad. It’s a tragedy, what happened to him. He only wanted to not be alone anymore.” Your voice drops even lower. “He only ever wanted to love someone.”

An ache suddenly expands within his gut, digging into his sides of his skull with such ferocity he fears he may never escape it. That same, fleeting sense of solitude slinks around his lungs, squeezing and squeezing until your eyes lock into his, and they halt.

“Do you think that he lives on?” you whisper, your gaze searching his. “That he might have found someone else to keep him company, despite his sadness?”

You pause, something like hope sparking within your eyes. “Do you think... he ever loved again?”

Dream stares at you, and stares at you, and stares at you. Your lips are right there, are so dreadfully close to him as he looks at you, feeling the blood pound through his ears as the pain in his heart begins to lift. It rises higher and higher within him before sliding off his shoulders entirely, leaving nothing behind but tender affection and warmth—a warmth he had been yearning for for so, so long.

He smiles at you then, and for once, this one is real.

“Something tells me he did.”

Dream stretches his wings out behind him with a quiet groan, feeling the cool air ruffle his ivory white feathers. His cloak sits on the ground next to him while his golden halos spin rapidly atop his head from where they float, glowing faintly in the fading evening light. After a moment, he lets his wings fold back up against his back, lowering his arms with a sharp exhale. In the distance, he catches a glimpse of the setting sun just before it dips below the horizon, shrouding the world in darkness. With a bored look, he picks at his nail, curling his toes in his shoes.

He’s already waved you off and watched as you wove your way out of the clearing and between the forest’s tangled trees back to your village. Now, he has nothing left to do but wait for your return the next day, his throat aching for your arrival with every passing second.

How far I have fallen, he thinks distantly to himself, to be reduced to nothing more than a helpless admirer for a human.

A moment passes, and his heart sighs.

A lovely human, at that.

All of a sudden, he hears a stick snap behind him, and Dream immediately snaps his fingers, his wings and halos disappearing in a flash, almost as if they had never existed to begin with. Whipping around on his heel, he narrows his eyes at the clearing entrance, jaw clenched in preparation. His shoulders are raised at his side, tense with anticipation when just then...

...you stumble out of the forest, tears streaking down your face.

Dream’s shoulders fall in an instant.

“Dream,” you choke out, your voice cracking sharply.

You don’t even get the chance to open your mouth again before he’s standing in front of you, his hands gripping your shoulders as gently as he can manage. His eyes scan your face as his stomach churns with agony at the despair painted onto your features. “[Y/N],” he murmurs softly, “what’s wrong? Why are you crying?”

You sniffle, lifting your head to look at him through watery eyes as you open your mouth. “Karl—he’s sick. Really sick,” you babble like a winding stream. “The doctor doesn’t know what’s wrong with him, and he’s been coughing so badly that you can just tell he’s in pain. At this rate, I—I’m scared he’s not going to get any better. He... I’ve known him since forever, and I—”

The words die in your mouth as you cut yourself off with a broken sob, and Dream almost feels as though he’s been stabbed in the gut. He never wants to see you in pain, to see you as sad as this, and the fact that you are sobbing at all makes him want to wail himself.

Softly, he wraps his arms around you, pressing you close to your chest as he rocks you gently back and forth with your head resting on his shoulder. Your tears soak his shirt, but he doesn’t mind one bit. “Shh, [Y/N],” he coos quietly. “It’s going to be okay.”

You pull back with a wary gaze, fear etched into your features. “How do you know that?” you whisper. “What if he doesn’t get better? What then?”

Dropping one arm from behind you, Dream slips a hand into his pocket, quickly rubbing his fingers together. Just like that, cool glass that wasn’t there a moment earlier presses against the warmth of his palm, and he pulls out a vial filled with a pale, rosy liquid.

“Here,” he says, pressing the vial into your hand. “This is an antidote I’ve been...” He pauses for a split second, then fibs. “...holding onto for a while. For emergencies.” Slowly, he clasps your fingers until they’re closed around the glass top, sending you a reassuring smile. “Give this to Karl, and I promise you he’ll recover.”

You blink at him, your eyes glimmering underneath the light of the swirling stars overhead. “You swear?” you ask meekly, hope dancing along the edge of your lashes.

Dream swallows thickly and nods. “On my life.”

You inhale a deep, shuddering breath, then raise your hand to wipe at your eyes before smiling at him, warm and full of affection. “Okay,” you murmur as you step back from him. “I trust you, Dream.”

The next morning, you come tumbling into Dream’s arms with a gleeful cry, tears flowing freely down your face as you knock him to the ground. This time, they’re there for an entirely different reason as you ramble about Karl’s cleared airways when the doctor came to check on him after you fed him the antidote.

Beneath you, Dream relishes in the warmth of your body against his, praying you cannot feel the way his heart hammers against his chest.

There were not enough words in the world that he could use to describe how deep his devotion to you ran.

He fears there may never be enough.

Months pass in a blur, and Dream watches with knowing eyes as summer turns to autumn. Soon enough, snow coats the clearing although the waterfall continues to flow. No matter how harsh the weather, you stumble your way back to the forest to him, and each day, Dream feels himself sink deeper and deeper into the very essence that is you.

To think that there was once a time he never wanted to return here at all.

“Dream,” you say abruptly one day, “you know, I think you might be my favourite person in the world.”

He cocks a brow at you, his lips twitching up into a small smirk. “In the world?” he repeats. “I think Karl would be offended.”

You roll your eyes at him, but you can’t stop the smile from stretching across your face. “Maybe, but it’s the truth!” You lift a hand and begin counting off on your fingers. “You’re—you’re so nice, and passionate, and bold, and bright, and...” You pause, then chuckle almost shyly. “I could go on and on, but that’s embarrassing.”

He chuckles at your words, only growing more and more enamoured with each word that falls from your lips. “It’s not embarrassing,” he says gently. “It’s cute.”

Your shoulders suddenly stiffen, and you slowly turn your head to glance up at him. “Cute? You think I’m cute?”

He doesn’t have to think twice about his response. “Very much so. I would dare say that you are even more beautiful than you are cute.”

You whine with a pout, heat crawling up the side of your neck as you dig your thumbs into your palms. “You can’t just say things like that.”

He stares at you for a second, then he flashes you a grin that is both parts wicked and affectionate. “Maybe, but it’s the truth.”

Your mouth drops open at the way he fires your own words back at you, and you gape at him a moment before you groan, reaching over to playfully bat at his arm. “Why, you!”

He laughs at you and loves the way he can tell your heart races in your chest. He loves the way you smile despite your small shouts of frustration. He loves the way you are just so endearing to him in every which way.

He laughs at you and he loves you, hopelessly and wholly.

Dream gazes up at the orange sky with a slight frown and furrowed brows, watching as the clouds coast by overhead on a distant, northern gale. The waterfall babbles restlessly at his side, and he taps his foot against the smooth stones lining the pond with abandonment. The flowers he had once grown rake this petals over the soles of his shoes as he lets out a long sigh, anxiety slowly beginning to paw at his backside.

Are you going to show up at all today? he wonders. There are some days you don’t appear at all, typically because you had to run some errands or something of the sort, but those days are few and far between. He won’t chastise you for not seeing him, of course, but he cannot simply ignore the pang of his heart when he misses you so.

His fingers drum against the cool material clutched in his hands, and a melancholic look flits over his features. It would be a shame if you didn’t appear though, especially given what he had in mind for the day.

Right then, he hears your lovely voice call out for him. “Dream!”

His frown is immediately replaced by a smile as he whirls around to see you, his hands carefully tucked behind his back. “[Y/N],” he greets, striding up to you. “It’s good to see you.”

You’ve only just made it in front of him when he opens his mouth again, excitement filling his words to the absolute brim. “I brought you a gift.”

You blink wildly at him, pointing to yourself in surprise. “For me?”

His grin only grows wider, his heart leaping into his throat. “Of course it’s for you, silly. Who else?”

You squint for a second, then smile. “Karl?”

Dream deadpans at you, and you laugh in return, not noticing the way his eyes melt fondly at your expression. “I’m kidding,” you chide, shuffling a step closer to him. “So, what is it?”

He’s practically bouncing on the balls of his feet when he finally brings his hands out from behind him, pushing them towards you. “Ta-da! Here.”

Your breath catches at the sight of his palms, and with trembling hands, you reach up to pull the curved item from his hand. “Is this... a shell?” you whisper, your eyes as wide as saucers.

He nods, his emerald eyes gleaming with pride. “A conch shell,” he says. “From the ocean.”

You sputter as you gently turn the shell over in your hands, your fingers tracing over the solid edges with nothing short of pure shock. “H-How did you even get this? The nearest ocean is at least a week’s travel on horse away!”

Dream thinks of the wings he typically had tucked on his back and how they carried him to the ocean and back in less than a few minutes, but to you, he only smiles and shrugs. “I have my ways.”

You don’t respond for a moment, then two. All of a sudden, you sniffle, and Dream is bending before you in a heartbeat, his hands reaching for yours before just stopping short. “[Y/N]?” he asks in a soothing tone. “Is something wrong?”

Your gaze is watery, but only slightly as you raise your chin to look at him, your lower lip set with determination. “Dream,” you say with a shaky breath, “I have to tell you something.” You gulp. “It’s serious.”

Immediately, Dream’s mind runs through a million and five possibilities of what you could possibly say to him, each one increasingly worse than the last. Your family is in need of funds, or you’re about to leave on a life-threatening journey. Or maybe Karl is just sick, again.

But before he can run himself into the ground with his own worries, Dream lets out a breath and tilts his head at you. “What is it?”

Your gaze falls down to your feet, and you stare at the earth for an excruciatingly long minute. Dream simply stands in front of you, patiently and earnestly waiting for your response when you suddenly open your mouth.

“I—I love you.”

Dream’s lungs feel as though they are about to collapse in his chest. “You do?”

You bite your lip, but raise your head, your shoulders trembling at your sides. “Yes,” you whisper, the syllable steeped with emotion. With one hand clasped around the conch shell, the other reaches up to rest over your chest, palm pressed flats against your left side. “My heart is yours, all of it.”

The world is a blur of colours and sounds around him, and he can feel his head spin faster and faster as a wave of memories come crashing down over him, drowning him whole. He wants to tear his hair out and scream to the heavens above until his throat is raw and he can scream no more.

You love him. You love him back, and as much as he wants to burn your words into the back of his eyelids, something else sinks its claws into his heart and tears a hole right into the flesh.

This is not the first time you have spoken these words to him. No, not at all.

He had done his best to forget them over all those years, had tried his best to outrun the anguish with every century he lived through. After all, when you live as long as he has, it is only natural for him to forget some things. Through wandering across every land he had lovingly sculpted by hand, he had hoped to erase his suffering by engulfing himself in other worldly affairs, isolating himself entirely from others.

But no amount of time could ever truly erase the memories he had of you—the first incarnation of you, from all those years ago.

He remembers how the two of you had shared your first kiss under the light of the full moon, giggling to one another as he wrapped you up in his soft feathers. He remembers the way you would hold his hand and tell him about all the things you could not wait to do with him in the very same clearing he stood in now. He remembers the way your body went limp in his own arms, coughing until your lungs could cough no more. He remembers the agony and the torment as he wasted away, too caught up in the imprint of your skin against his before you turned to dust before his very eyes.

He remembers it all, and he cannot not let himself be shattered like that, again.

“I have to go,” he whispers, jerking his arm back from yours.

You whip your head up, pain shooting across your face. “Y-You’re leaving? What?”

He takes another step back and swallows down the lump in his throat, but it tastes like acid burning his stomach. “I—I can’t stay here.”

Before he can move back again, your hand shoots out to grab at the hem of his shirt, desperation soaking into your face: “P-Please,” you plead, “you can just say you don’t love me back. My feelings for you won’t change.”

He wants to cry. No, he thinks, it’s not that. It could never be that. Not with you.

You clutch at the cloth, hoping your feelings somehow reach him through your anguished touch. “I love you, Dream,” you begin, “I really do. I love how attentive you are, how much you always seem to care. You’re always so patient with me, so kind, so generous, and it makes me melt inside. I love the way your eyes shine so brightly, and I love your little freckles. I want to count them all, and I don’t mind if that takes the rest of eternity.”

You’re almost entirely out of breath by now, and Dream’s jaw has gone slack. He can only stare at you with a look of pure conflicting despair as your eyes search his for answers he knows he cannot possibly give. “An eternity with you would be nothing,” you breathe, your voice cracking. Your grip on his shirt suddenly goes limp, and your arm falls back to your side. “Please. Stay.”

The knife in his gut only seems to twist deeper as he takes yet another step back, his cloak feeling like a boulder upon his back. “I can’t,” he chokes out. “I really can’t.”

Tears line your eyes like tiny jewels, and he wishes he could wipe them away. “Why?” you beg. “Why do you have to go?”

He opens his mouth, then closes it, shaking his head. He doesn’t even know where to begin.

In front of him, a look of absolute defeat sinks into your expression, and your voice grows smaller than ever. “At least—at least tell me if I’ll ever see you again.”

Dream’s feels the back of his eyes sting, and he clenched his hands beside him. “Not in this lifetime,” he wants to say. “And hopefully not in the next, either.”

“I’m sorry, [Y/N],” he says instead.

Just like that, he watches as the light fades from your eyes, vanishing from sight as the setting sun watches on with a sad gaze. Your lower lip trembles, and before you can stop yourself, you’re crumpling to the ground in a heap and watering the earth with your tears. You clutch the conch shell to your chest and let it dig into your chest from how tightly you press it against yourself, your vision completely blurred. In front of you, Dream holds back tears of his own, forcing himself to look away from your broken figure as he walks toward the forest away from you.

Your wails follow after him even after he unfurls his wings deep in the forest and soars up into the sky, flying high above the world below as he dries his tears with the harsh wind that bites at his face.

He will not return here for a long, long time.

He doesn’t think he would even be able to bring himself to if he tried.

Dream brushes a stray leaf off his shoulder as he steps over a root, his eyes focused on the bushes before him. A bird chirps as he strolls past a tree, nestling further into its nest as he ducks under the branch. He smiles at the sight, a deep fondness seeping into his heart as he lets his hand run over the tree’s hard bark.

He recognizes this forest—these trees. He knows this sky, has leapt over these rocks. He’s walked this path before.

It’s a shame he can’t remember how long it’s been since he last came here.

He hums a quiet melody to himself as he weaves a path between the trees, drawing nearer and nearer to the place he had been searching for with every passing second. He’s only a few steps away when a sound calls out to him—a sound that isn’t a part of the forest.

“Hello?”

Dream goes stock still, his heart coming to a screeching halt in his chest.

He knows that voice, too.

Sucking in a deep breath, he slowly steps forward, out into the entrance of the clearing. In front of the waterfall stands a silhouette he is absolutely positive he’s seen before—countless times before. Something tells him that he should leave, that he should run far, far away and disappear from view. But as he watches the silhouette take a tentative step toward him, his inhibitions fall away.

Warmth blossoms in the space between his lungs, all encompassing and full of grief as he opens his mouth.

“Hi.”

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xoxo-teddybear · 3 years

Text

Just Stay - Bakugou Katsuki - pt.2

Bakugou x f!reader

Warnings: angst, fluff, cursing

Summary: it’s been almost 2 years since the breakup and Bakugou refuses to move. No matter how many times people tell him it’s time, he ignores them because he knows he’ll run into you again. And he was right all along.

BAKUGOU’S MASTERLIST

Pt.1 Pt.2

Almost 2 years. About 24 months. Around 104 weeks, 730 days, 17520 hours, or 63,072,000 seconds. And every second of everyday, you run through Bakugou’s mind.

Memories of the two of you always pass through him and he always smile at the good ones. But as time went on, he realized he really wasn’t the same person anymore. Especially not to Y/N. In the beginning, he was hopelessly devoted to you and he craved to be around you. He always wanted what was best for you until he realized in the end he grew selfish. He stopped caring about your needs, neglecting you, and just assumed you’d stay because you still loved him the same way he did you. He was wrong though, and the horrible day of your split arrived.

After you left his house that day, Bakugou remained in the same place for hours. He stood there and cried with his back facing the front door, and when his legs grew tired, he fell to the ground and continued to cry.

Everybody thought he would move on but he didn’t. He still held onto hope. So for 2 years, Bakugou worked to fix himself just for you. He went to therapy to work on his excessive anger, he stopped going out as much with his friends and worked around the house to improve his home skills to help you out when you would return, and he even went as far as to get a lil dog for himself to learn to be a little more loving and compassionate.

His name was Bomber. He was a Pomeranian.

During those 2 years..it’s like you disappeared. Bakugou, and none of your friends, saw sight or heard word of you. Some people thought you moved, some thought the worst had possibly happened. But Bakugou was still going strong. If something was wrong, he would’ve felt it in his heart, but his hope was still going strong. He knew you were out there.

And he was right. For the past 2 years you’ve lived...everywhere! You never stayed in one place for too long in fear of someone from your life may get word of you being around. You’ve lived in the beautiful islands of the Caribbean all the way to the blissful cities in Paris. You’ve been all around the world and you’ve enjoyed all the sights, but you were getting tired of not really having friends and spending so much money. You missed Japan. The food, the culture, the songs, the celebration. The people. And so you decided it was time for you to head back.

You moved back home about a month ago and you made sure none of your old friends would hear about you. You wanted to settle for a little bit before interacting with the people who were a huge part of your old life and you enjoyed the quite peaceful nature. After some time, you decided it was okay to meet up with your old friends, but instead of going out and looking for them, you waited to see what destiny brought you, and now the moment has come.

You sat in the old park you used to love being in when you lived in Japan. It was spring time and the cherry blossoms were out as they covered the trail you made for yourself when you came here. In the past, you found a hidden area of the park forest that seemed...magical. There was a crystal blue lake that were filled with Lilly pads, lotuses, and koi fish. The sunlight hit perfectly on the patch of land, and dusted it with a golden honey scheme. The cherry blossom trees surrounded the place along with tall pines that reached the clouds. The cute little creatures that lived in the secluded area included bunnies, fawns, beautiful birds, and adorable foxes.

It’s been so long since you’ve been here. The last time you even stepped foot into this park was when you were with..Bakugou. But even then, the last time you went with him was about 4 months before your breakup. He was the only person you ever told about this spot and you both had so many memories here. You weren’t gonna lie, you missed him, but you didn’t know who he was now. As the 2 years past, Bakugou has gone through your mind a couple times, and you smiled towards the sky as you wondered what he’s like nowadays. If he’s any different than the last time you saw him. You really wished nothing but the best for the man you love.

Every once in awhile, Bakugou would step into the hidden sanctuary that Y/N showed him. He enjoyed going there to get away from his reality and thoughts of Y/N always came to him when he entered that special place. This time, his imagination seemed really strong because he felt like he was staring at the real deal.

He looked ahead and leaning against the tallest cherry tree was the beautiful goddess herself, Y/N L/N. She held her cool expression as she held a cute little bunny and her golden jewelry sparkled in the sunlight that hit her body perfectly. She truly did look like a goddess.

Bakugou smiled as he saw you, but he quickly shook it off as he realized there was no way it was possible. He then chose to walk to the spot, hoping that the image of you would just disappear, but he also hoped that you were real. He snuck up on you from behind but you were smarter than that. Once he got close enough you walked to the other side of the tree, out of his line of vision and went into stealth mode as you quickly used your quirk to be seated on a high branch. Bakugou saw you walk and disappear so he sighed as he “realized” you were just his imagination. However, when he finally settled and looked out beyond the valley, you jumped down to surprise him. You hopped off the branch, grabbed Bakugou and spun you both around so that you were laying against the tree and he was facing you.

“Long time no see, Bakugou,” you said with a little break in your voice as you spoke with such a “cool girl tone.” You held a sassy smile as you stared at him with all the confidence radiating off your body. Bakugou just looked at you in shock. His mouth hung open as his wide eyes traveled all around you to make sure you were real. He shook a little as he stared at you and soon his tears began to pool at his eyes.

“Hey, hey, hey. You don’t gotta cry, it’s okay,” you said with a concerned smile. You wiped a stray tear that fell from his ruby eyes with your thumb and you felt heat rise to his cheeks as he leaned into your palm. “....Bakugou?....Are you- woah!”

Without warning, he quickly grabbed you and pulled you in by the waist to give you a hug. He held you tight as you were shocked but you smiled against his chest and held him too. He cried on your shoulder and after some time he finally spoke.

“I’ve missed you so much Y/N.”

“.....I’ve missed you too Katsuki.”

—

“Where have you been?” He asked as you both were seated on the grass. You and Bakugou both held onto each other for awhile as Bakugou cried his heart out like a big baby. You finally settled him and you both were sitting next to each other laying against the tree as you both sat on the grass.

“I’ve been everywhere!” You laughed out, “I’ve went to the states and hung out in L.A and Hawaii, took some time in New York and hung out in Florida. I then went to the Caribbean and partied in the Dominican Republic, and I even traveled to Europe and stayed in Paris for a bit. I’ve been all over the world traveling and finding me again.”

“You seem happy about that,” Bakugou said as he looked at you with loving eyes and a small smile that only you could ever bring out.

“I am. Ever since...um...you know...I’ve been a little lost. I lost myself and I missed the old me. My trips and alone time brought out the old me again and I’ve been feeling so much more alive,” you sighed as you settled, “but I’ve missed my roots. I’ve missed Japan and the people.....I’ve missed you too Katsuki.” You said with kind eyes as you smiled at him causing him to blush immensely.

You both remained silent as you guys enjoyed the sounds of spring. You felt the breeze blow in your hair as the warm sun comforted you. Soon, you felt Bakugou’s hand slowly touch yours. You knew he was scared to go and do anything else, but you openly welcomed his touch and he clearly became less tense.

“So...what have you been up to while I was away?” You calmly asked. You noticed Bakugou’s hesitation and deep breath before he spoke.

“I’ve been....I’ve been trying to better myself for you.” Your brows raised and eyes opened up a little wider. For the past 2 years, he’s been trying to better himself...just for you. “I’ve gone to therapy for my anger, stop going out as much, learned to do more around the house...even got a little dog to learn to be a little more compassionate.”

“Ouu! What kind?” You excitedly asked. He chuckled at your cute aura and answered your question.

“Cute little Pomeranian named bomber,” he admitted.

“No way! Cuteeee!” You squealed and Bakugou just laughed at you once again. How cute. As you thought about everything he said, your smile dropped a little into a little lip curl. A silence came over the two of you before you spoke again.

“You...you did all that for me?”

“Mhm. I wanna prove to you that I can change. That I have changed. ....I’m not telling you this to get you to come back to me..I want you to come on your own choice but I want you to know if you do decide to come back, that I’ve become better.” He explained.

You smiled and hummed to yourself in happiness. Your cheeks dusted with warmth as you smiled so much it hurt.

“Why don’t you show me how much you’ve changed Katsuki?” You offered.

“What?”

“Hehe, let’s start over. I don’t know if you’re still down for anything...but I’ve missed you over the past 2 years and I remember you saying that if a certain ‘goddess’ wanted to come back..you’d be waiting with open arms...” you looked at him and he gave an open smile that held more disbelief and happiness than excitement.

“Can we try again Suki?” You quietly asked, but Bakugou stood and picked you up. He pulled you up by your arms and pulled you even higher which caused you to jump and wrap your legs around him. You laughed out in excitement as he held you like that and rested his head in the crook of your neck.

“I should be on my hands and knees asking you that, princess.” He softly said with a broken voice but it was clear he was letting out tears of joy. You wrapped your arms around his neck even tighter as his hold on you never faltered. He started sniffling and you pulled him out of your neck as you wiped his tears.

“Suki! Stop crying,” you giggled, “this is supposed to be a happen moment.”

“Shut up! I don’t cry!” He said with a flushed face as he looked to the side but still holding you. You raised your brow at him and he only nervously laughed as he placed you down. He stuck out his hand for you to grab onto but you placed it down and wrapped your arms around his. You pecked his cheek and leaned on him as he smiled down at you. This was the moment he’s been waiting for. His princess finally came back to him. Everyone told him to move on but he knew better. If he did, he would’ve never been here right now with you again. And this time, he would make sure you’d stay.

“Suki?”

“Yes princess?”

“.......Can we go see Bomber?”

“Heh...whatever your heart desires.”

A/N: STAWWWPPP YALL THIS WAS SO BAD BUT IT WAS SO RUSHED! IM TRYNA HURRY CUZ I HAVE ANOTHER PART 2 TO WORK ON, I HAVE TO START ON THE NEXT PART OF MY SERIES AND I HAVE SO MUCH WORK TO DOOOOO😭😭😭 IM SO PISSED AT MYSELF BRO THIS COULDVE BEEN SO MUCH BETTER!!! BUT I HOPE YOU ENJOYED WHATEVER U COULD CUBS! See u next time! 😭💗🧸

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wisp-of-thought · 3 years

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I met you when I was young. We were both young, but now I see it. I was 15 and you were older and kind and spent smiles like they cost you nothing. Maybe it was this illusion of abundance that originally tipped me into the fall but you were everything I never thought could exist for me.

My best friend introduced us in passing. I met you mid-morning in the middle of the week in the middle of a bustling hallway. Maybe this was the first sign that we would never be anything all the way. You made a joke about my name but it was all in good fun and to hear my name on your tongue made my palms prick. All I saw was your smile, brilliant enough to blind. It hurt to look at you too long, but I did it anyway. I was always a little bit of a masochist I suppose. You will learn this soon enough, when I love you so hard it hurts. When I manage to turn this soft thing between us sharp. But in fact, you won't. You won't learn this. And perhaps that is where we begin to fall apart. Or when I do. I begin to fall apart. Because we never seemed to do much of anything to you. We never seemed to touch you at all. While we tore me apart. Or I did. I guess it was always me doing the breaking, wasn't it?

We leave after last period to get lunch from the place near school you swear has the best fries. We miss 3 busses trying to figure out the route, the last one is on me because I can't run in flats with my school bag. While I walk, you sprint across the parking lot to buy our tickets but we're already too late. I don't want to watch the movie even if it's only 5 minutes in. I want to leave. I've wanted to leave since we waited for your food in awkward silence for 15 minutes but I swallowed and called it first date nerves even though we never said it was a date and I know now that it most definitely wasn't. And that's how things always were between us, weren't they? Me being let down by my own expectations of you. Me taking your kindness and taking and taking and taking even what wasn't there?

You let me pick what we watch instead since we're already here and pay for my ticket. I return the cost to you in the dark of the theatre. The movie is bad. In fact it's awful. I lean away from you and bite my nails during the sex scenes I didn't expect from the trailer. I wince every time I hear you shift, so sure you hate me as much as you hate the film, quietly begging for it to be over. We leave after it's done. I apologize. I didn't know it would be that terrible. You tell me we totally could have caught the original one we came to see and I nod, holding back tears that taste like shame. But you mean nothing by it.

It's summer, warm and sticky, walking across the parking lot.

I fell out of love with you then.

I didn't know it in that instant but looking back on it, this is the exact moment.

I realize there is nothing here. Nothing between us but space. There is nothing here, and the question is seeded if there ever was. The thought takes many weeks to root and bud. Months to flower and come to fruition. But it is planted here. Here, I keep searching for a feeling of comfort even if just in your presence but there is nothing to find. My stomach turns at my mother's missed calls, she's wondering where I am, who I'm with, and I'm panicking because I am still young. You offer me nothing but shrugged shoulders and it is worse because I know you mean well. Or rather that you mean nothing by it. And suddenly I know that I need you to say something. I need you to say something that matters right now. Or there will be nothing to come back to tomorrow.

But you don't. You don't walk me home. You walk me to the street across from my father's apartment building. Nod. One hand wave. See you later. Walk back across the street before the light can turn red again. You don't look back. And of course, I only know this because I look back. Stare after you. Not heartbroken yet. But gently being let down. For the next few days I would rather not think about you. I try many times to remake how it happened in my head but I'm grasping at threads. There is too little material to sew a new tapestry memory from stray comments and wayward touches.

After this butterflies were not summoned at the sound of your name, funny how easy delicate things die isint it. After this, I did not feel the tug of your orbit's gravity pulling me closer to you in a crowded room. Your words sounded less and less divine to me, I think this is because I started hearing what you were saying instead of what I wanted you to be saying. After this, the poetry about you turned sad, then angry, then ran mostly dry. There were no more tears shed over you in the bathroom around the corner from the theatre classroom because your promises were pretty coloured tissue paper flowers to me now. Good for decoration and conversation, but they would tear easy, for they were never meant to last. Never crafted to be put to the test.

We try again a few times. Every once in a while I find you at my locker at the end of the day and we try again. Painfully awkward, but we try again and again and every time I think it's over you're there again. Here is where you instill in me the inability to get over you all the way. You do it by accident. Or at least mean nothing by it. And I begin to understand this the hard way. It's hard because everything means something to me. For I have spent my life trying to squeeze enough from the nothings cast my way.

You ask me out of the blue if I'd like to go for bubble tea and I say I've never tried it so we do. My mother is at work and my sister is in school and no one is at home to expect me and I feel sickeningly giddy at the little rebellion. The silence is only half as uncomfortable as before. The other half-emptied of expectation and filled with acceptance. But the place is closed and this time I laugh at the inconvenience fate keeps gifting us. I tell myself it's a sign. One I'll look at later. We go somewhere else. Somewhere convenient. Somewhere familiar.

You buy me an iced coffee we playfully push the two dollars back and forth across the table as I insist to pay you back and you refuse. As a gentleman. As a friend. The spell is broken when you ask about a scar and I realize I could never tell you. Well, I could. But I don't want to. That someone like you would never understand. And you let the subject drop so easily. You let it all go so easily. Instead you check the bus schedule and walk me to my stop. You get on your bike and ride down the street and you don't look back.

Another time you meet me at the mall. My father asks to meet you so he does. You are the first boy I know that he ever meets. But of course, this means nothing to you. And so I try to let this mean nothing to me too. I link our arms together and it's easier to touch you. Without anticipation. You leave me after we eat cinnamon rolls and do not look back. And I always find myself looking after you. A part of me brought back to the piece of myself left in that movie theatre parking lot in the afternoon sun. But I don't ever really love you again after that.

And I am better for it.

We are better for it.

I am glad I still have you.

For I don't know what would have become of us if not for your careless gaze and fickle heart.

I do not know what would have become of me.

And I am grateful now, for the falling out of love.

- #1: reflections on falling out of unrequited love with him

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gryffindors-weasley · 3 years

Text

Old and New

Draco Malfoy x Reader

Requested by @futuremrsmalfoy20 : “Draco buys you a kitten fluff”

Summary: When you return home from work, Draco has a surprise waiting for you.

Warnings: loss of a pet, mild angst, fluff, kisses

Word Count: 2.6k

A/N: Thank you for such a sweet request!

Draco Malfoy was never a fan of cats, or any kind of animal for that matter. He didn’t grow up with household pets, save for his owl, but even then he wasn’t too fond of the feathered creature. He didn’t dislike them, not really, he rather was indifferent. However, you on the other hand were the complete opposite.

You had had a cat once before, finding a feline more preferable rather than the traditional owl that most students had selected for themselves. She was a fluffy black cat with miscellaneous splotches of white, striking and round green eyes that were far too adorable for you to ignore. Her name was Ophelia and she was wonderfully sweet, not a minute going by in her presence without her nudging you affectionately.

She accompanied you throughout your years of magical endeavors at Hogwarts until seventh year, and you made the decision to bring her home to your parents before the war had begun in full force. You had loved her far too dearly to risk the potential of putting her in harm’s way, she was your home away from home.

Since then, she had lived her days and nights in the blissful environment of your parents house, and you were quite sure you’d never seen her more content in an environment in your life. Always tucked away in the most unconventional of places whether it be the garden, the top shelf of your closet, or even nestled between the thick tree roots on the edge of the property. It was there where she had lived her life most contently, and you couldn’t have asked for anything more.

—

You sigh tiredly upon finally seeing your beloved home, smiling at the sight of the little yellow car parked on the mossy cobblestone driveway. As if it weren’t already obvious that Draco had gotten home before you, the smoke puffing out of the lone chimney and the warm glow in the frosted windows were more than enough indication. You pushed open the creaky wrought iron gate without hesitation, the sound only accentuated by the drizzling rain pattering down.

Rushing up the stone path to your front door, you push it open and escape from the rain. The warmth you were met with was immediate upon your entrance, as was the ever familiar scent of cinnamon and sugar, a hint of coffee mixed in. Your soft smile never faltered as you shrugged off your rain dampened jacket, slipping it on the copper hook just inside the door next to Draco’s.

“Love?” An ever so familiar voice called out, one that felt even more like home than that of the building the two of you claimed as your own just a year and a half ago.

You stepped out of your shoes and set them on the welcome rug, Draco appearing shortly after to see if it’d really been you. His hair was a mess from what it once neatly was before he left for work earlier that morning, the inclement weather having brought out waves of platinum. His smile was nothing short of adoring when he caught sight of you, and you barely had time to set down your keys before his hands settled on your flushed cheeks. His lips were soft against yours as he kissed you, the expected taste of coffee and cream lingering on his lips. His hands are cooled against your heated skin, but the shiver running through you was of no importance at that moment.

“Hi darling,” he manages when he brings himself to part from you, though he hadn’t strayed too far as his nose brushed against yours.

“Hey,” you sigh, his kiss nearly making you a fool no matter how short it may have been.

He tucked your hair behind your ear tenderly, the tips of his fingers tracing along your skin before traveling down your arm to grasp your hand. No matter how hard he tried, which hadn’t been very much, he finds himself capturing your lips once more in another kiss. You were far too irresistible for him not to bask in your affections.

“How was work?” He mumbles against your lips, squeezing your hands.

“Quite busy for a bookshop in the middle of the only wizarding town in the area. Peculiar isn’t it?” You respond, a laugh leaving your lips when his arms circle around your waist and press you to him in an embrace.

“Indeed,” he agrees quietly, kissing your cheek before his lips ghost across your neck and just under your ear warmly. You had to stop yourself from all but squealing at the very sensation tickling over your skin though a giggle does escape you.

“What’s got you so smiley?” You inquire, brow raised in curious amusement as you push back to look at him.

“What, can’t I be overjoyed that the love of my life has come home? Forgive me, darling,” he says in faux offense, his smile still very there regardless.

You roll your eyes, allowing yourself to fully look at him for the first time you’d gotten home just minutes ago. His cheeks were a bit flushed from what you assumed was the chilly weather, that and the feeling of your kisses had brought it out of him. His icy hair had been dipping over his forehead, covering over dark brows and tangling with even darker lashes. The grin on his kiss swollen lips had been very apparent the moment you saw him, faltering only slightly when he was busy casting his affections on you in greeting. A thick, black sweater hung from his shoulders, tattered and torn around the edges from constant use when he hadn’t needed to dress so formally for St. Mungo’s. Though you couldn’t help but to notice the extra runs and pulls in the soft yarn.

“Perhaps I will if you let me change out of these clothes,” you say, reluctantly leaving his loose grasp. “It is raining after all.”

A flurry of panicked emotions had crossed over his face in that very moment, his eyes widening a fraction as you step farther from him and closer to the stairway. Your brows furrow slightly at his sudden change in attitude, watching as his hand flies up to scratch at the back of his neck. When you turn away once more you’re quick to feel his hand envelope yours, effectively stealing your attention away from the task at hand briefly. As you open your mouth to speak, he beats you to it.

“I’ve already put your clothes in the dryer so they’d be warm for you, they’re in the laundry room,” he rushes, and his words are far too quick for you not to be even a little suspicious of it. “It’s that sweater of mine that you like, you know—the green one?”

He draws you closer as he speaks, noting the way your eyes squint in disbelief. Draco may have been good in the area of deception to just about anyone else, anyone but you. Not with the way his hand came to rest on your cheek, and how his thumb brushed over your skin. Certainly not with the way his bout of kisses resumed, blossoming over bare patches of skin. His valiant attempts to hold your attention had been working, but only for a few fleeting moments.

“And what if I wanted the maroon one?” You jest with a teasing smile, and with his moment of distraction you slip from his arms and make your way back to the stairs.

He finds himself at a loss for words as his panic builds with every bit of distance between you, and all he can do is follow behind and desperately try to find something else to say. When he comes up terribly short, he accepts his fate with a defeated huff.

“Darling wait!” He manages when you twist the doorknob, entering the cozy bedroom.

His face scrunches in a wince at the sight before you both, unsure of just how you’d react. For a small kitten lay curled up in a fluffy ball of snowy white fur, tucked and nuzzled into heaps of his old quidditch sweater. The small animal was seemingly unbothered by the newfound commotion that had entered the room, instead basking in the warmth of the deep green yarn. You even took notice to the lilac-colored collar fitted loosely around its neck, a small silver bell dangling from it.

You spun on your heel to face him with a raised brow, a soft smile fighting to tug at your lips and soon you couldn’t hide it. You were baffled more than anything. Draco’s cheeks were a noticeable blush pink as he offered you a hesitant smile, still looking rather panicked. “What’s this all about?”

He swallows thickly, his fingers running over his jaw in a nervous habit. “She’s…she’s ours.”

It took you a moment to process it as Draco shuffled around you, leaving you to look at the empty spot he once stood in for a brief few seconds before following where he’d walked. He scooped up the small animal with a certain gentleness that made your heart flutter in your chest, and she stretched tiredly against him. Her yawn had showcased perhaps the tiniest fangs you’d ever seen, the soft pink pads of her feet pressing to his chest.

“What do you mean?” You were still quite dumbfounded at the sudden news, your gaze flickering between the kitten cradled happily in his hands and to his hopeful face that you wouldn’t be mad at him.

“I uh…I adopted her,” he says with a nervous laugh as he looks down at her, a small meow escaping her mouth at the sound of his voice. “I know you’ve been missing Ophelia, love. And I know I’m not very fond of cats but I think I’m warming up to her, she seems to like me—”

His rambling is promptly cut off when she nips at his bottom lip, doing it again twice more before he settles her into his sweater on the bed again.

“Draco, I…”

“Have I upset you?” He asks, a myriad of emotions rushing through him that maybe you still weren’t ready for a new pet at that moment in time. “Love, I didn’t mean—”

“I love her,” you finally manage after he all but sputters apology after apology, a jittery laugh leaving you as your gaze moves to his. Your laugh only continued softly at the light swelling of his lip from where she had bit at him in a playful curiosity.

Now he was the one that had been baffled, dumbfounded. He wasn’t quite sure if he’d heard you correctly. “You do?”

You respond with the kiss you press on his lips, firm yet gentle as the shock you’d once been in begins to wear off and disappear completely. His persistent panic only settles then, his obvious tension relaxing as his arms snake around your waist and a sigh is breathed. You part from him only to kiss him yet again, your fingers brushing over his cheek as your smile becomes apparent. “I love her.”

The words are whispered in giddy excitement as your lips sweep across his own with soft touches, his hair brushing against your forehead in the close proximity. The exhale of his relief puffs against your skin as he kisses your cheek once, twice, even three times, your arms hugging around his neck. Your grip on him was on the verge of being too tight, but he couldn’t find it in him to care.

You release him all too quickly in his opinion, but his inner complaints are quick to dissolve when he sees you grab the kitten gingerly. Her contented meow is instant in your gentle grasp, and you can’t help but kiss her tiny pink nose in a shower of affection.

All Draco could do was stand back to watch the happiness dance across your features, to listen to your delight laughs as you spoke ever so sweetly to the fluffy creature. He couldn’t help the way his heart had been hammering away in his chest at the very sight, the way his smile was unable to be controlled at the sheer excitement you held. It had diminished any last traces of worry and doubt he had that maybe it’d been too soon. That maybe it’d upset you and maybe you’d think he was expecting you to move on. Any and all fears that had plagued his mind on the subject were gone at the way you beamed.

In that moment he found he’d do just about anything to see you smile, to bring you happiness. He knows very well that he hasn’t always been the easiest person to love, far from it, he knows that his life and his prior choices have put you through more than he’d like to think about. For if he did dwell on it for too long, he’d certainly make himself miserable because it still vexes him that you could love him so fully, without hesitation. But if there had been one thing he knew with certainty, it’s that he’d go to the ends of the earth just to make you happy. He hadn’t known how he deserved you after everything, but he was determined to give you all that he could.

“Have you named her yet?” You ask, pulling him from his daze and back to you.

He was distracted for a mere moment, trying to piece together what you had said because he’d been too caught up in admiring you. “Well, I…I was thinking Ivory. I thought it would be rather cute since—what is it?”

The corner of your mouth quirked up in a teasing smirk, your brow raising. “And to think you hated cats.”

He scoffs as he rolls his eyes, looking away from you to stave off his reddening cheeks.

“I do not hate them, I just never particularly liked them,” he grumbles.

“That is so untrue!” You exclaim, his gaze turning to you again, “You nearly declared war when Filch’s cat clawed you, Draco. If I recall correctly, you even said—”

Your words were cut off by his lips, for he didn’t want to hear just how right you were because you always are. So he quieted you the best way he knew how. The giggle it elicited tumbled from your lips and sounded against his mouth, fading away the more he had kissed you. After all, he had to make sure you didn’t bring up just how insufferable he once was in his childhood. But what was once an attempt to distract you became more profoundly distracting to him as your lips had him spellbound.

“Ivory is cute,” you murmur softly with another tender kiss as she paws at your hair, “and so are you, Dray.”

Her little meows have pulled your focus from each other and directed it towards the kitten in your arms who so openly expressed her feelings. Draco took her from your hands and kissed her head, and it was then that your quiet laughter erupted. “What?”

“Nothing,” you say as you try to stifle it, earning a narrowed stare. “You two look alike is all.”

His gaze only hardens at you before he looks at her, her pale blue eyes and icy hair too obvious a comparison to himself. But he will never admit that to you, you’re having way too much fun with it as it is. “No, we don’t.”

Your joyous laughter sounds once more, bringing the softest of smiles to his face. “Whatever you say, my love.”

In that moment your heart was full, because now you had not one love but two. The gesture was wonderfully thoughtful and entirely what you felt you missed, and while nothing could replace your treasured Ophelia no matter how many years have passed, now you could appreciate the old and new.

—

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#draco malfoy one shot #draco x you #draco malfoy #draco malfoy fluff #draco malfoy angst #draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy fic #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy x you #draco fanfiction #draco malfoy fanfiction

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quinncupine · 3 years

Text

Obscured Chapter Eleven: Black Ties and Loose Ends

Chapter Word Count: 7,290

Relationship: Izuku Midoriya X Reader

Previous Chapter: Ten

Next Chapter: Twelve

MASTERLIST

Warnings: Angst, mentions of injuries

Notes: So sorry this took a very long time to get out, but I do hope you enjoy it!

It was nearing late afternoon. The sky an orange haze with thin streaks of clouds that seemed stagnant from your position on the couch. The house was silent, aside from the dull noise of the television on the wall playing the pre-show of the gala. You had tuned it out a while ago. It was the same thing every year; two hosts talking and playing games with the fans who were hoping to meet their heroes. The only thing you could even remotely focus on was trying to figure out the right words to convince your husband to stay home, but Izuku was a stubborn man.

Said man stepped into the living room, messing with his crooked and all too stubby dress tie. A small scowl on his face as he tried to fix it, but only seemed to shorten it more. When he looked up and saw you tucked into the corner of the couch glaring daggers out the window, he forgot all about the tie.

"Y/N," he said softly, feet rooted to the spot on the other side of the room. "I have to do this."

"You always have to do things," you grumbled, tucking your legs in closer, refusing to look at him. "But not when you're supposed to be on bed rest for at least the next week. You're such a hypocrite." That last part came out mumbled, but he still caught it.

"I've been through worse before. I was trained for this. I'll be fine."

Rolling your eyes, you finally turned your steely gaze on him. "You say that every time and then you land yourself right back into a hospital bed."

"But I've always turned out fine in the end."

"That's not a philosophy you should be living by Izuku!" you grabbed your head "You're just as human as the rest of us and you can die just as easily."

"Y/N-"

"I'm worried about you, you idiot!" You jumped to your feet, raising your voice. "Can't you see that? Why do you always have to run off and go play hero even if that means you won't come back to me!"

He stood there, a slight frown on his face, but he didn't look like he was giving in any time soon. "I have to-"

"Why?" you finally screamed at him. "Why do you have to go!"

"Because I have to make it right!" he yelled back, then shrunk in on himself, lowering his voice. "I have to fix this. It's my responsibility." His head dropped. "It's my fault."

It wouldn't matter how many times you told him it wasn't. His entire personality is based on that insecurity of never being enough and words can only do so much. His body wasn't the only thing injured this time.

Your gaze drifted down to his tie and you couldn't help but roll your eyes. "How is it that you can save hundreds of lives every day and yet you still can't tie a tie properly?" With a sigh, you walked over to him. There was a bit of hesitance before you reached out to grab the stub of a tie. "Honestly Izuku, you're an enigma."

He held his breath as you untied the tie, body stiff and so unfamiliar to your touch. The Izuku you knew, at least the one you knew before the attack, couldn't get enough affection from you. Now he shied away from even being near you. You knew why. You had the same reservations, but this was your husband. The man you trusted and you had to show him that. You had to show yourself that.

"I don't save that many people," he murmured, staring at your hands, "and what's wrong with my tie?"

"What's wrong with it?" you tugged the fabric up to tickle his nose. "It's a stub. Honestly, I think you just refuse to learn how to do it properly."

"It looks better when you do it." He whispered, still staring at your hands.

With nimble fingers from years of practice, you pulled the tie through the first loop. "Well, I suppose it's a good thing I'm still here then." You didn't mean to imply anything by it, but the way his eyes darted to his shoes, he obviously put meaning into the words.

"Sorry." It was a word you were getting quite sick of hearing lately.

Pausing on the second loop, you peeked up at him. "This plan of yours...it'll work, right?" He refused to look at you so you sinched the knot up to his neck forcing him to stumble closer with a slight wince. "You're nowhere near healed enough to be doing anything dangerous. This Ikari woman is getting under your skin. Making you reckless...well, more reckless than usual. I don't like it."

"I'm sorry Y/N, but-"

"Ugh," you pushed him away, "just stop with the sorry's already. I don't want apologies. I just want you to be safe."

"Y/N", he held up his palms, "I'm-"

"I swear to god, if you say sorry one more time," you threatened, pinching the bridge of your nose.

He deflated, a hand running through his gelled hair. When he opened his mouth to say something, he stopped and instead turned away, rubbing his face. The two of you hadn't been able to finish a single conversation since you came back home. Luckily, Inko had gone to stay with the retired pro Aizawa for the evening, to return a favor he owed Izuku. There was already enough tension in this house as it was, adding a third person would only make it worse.

The doorbell rang, cutting into the thick silence permeating the room. It irritated you that even the doorbell could make you flinch now. Everything seemed to startle you nowadays and you were hating it. Izuku used the interruption to escape the room and came back a few moments later with a casually dressed Shinso in tow.

Since you weren't going to the gala, you wanted to talk with your boss. Nazim, your friend who worked with you at the hospital, had texted a heads-up earlier. Apparently, there was talk of Haru replacing you after the whole 'teleporting your near-dead husband in the E.R.' fiasco. There was no way you could just sit at home and worry in front of the television all night anyway. This provided a productive distraction, even if you dreaded the talk with your boss.

Shinso had volunteered to accompany you to the hospital since he loathed going to things like galas, or really anywhere with a lot of focused attention. You didn't mind either because you liked Shinso. He was quiet and respectable. Plus having someone with you gave you some comfort.

Thank you, Shinso," Izuku said, grabbing the underground hero's shoulder as they walked in. "I really appreciate it."

He shrugged. "It's fine. I never liked going to those things anyway." Then he waved at you. "Hey, Y/N. No fancy dresses tonight?"

"Think it'll make my boss more lenient?" you joked with a half-smile.

"Eh, you'll be fine. The bark is worse than the bite, right?" he smirked, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

"You clearly haven't met my boss," you muttered, searching for your purse.

Izuku glanced at his watch. "I've got to get going," he finally looked at you, "you have your phone, right?"

"Yeah, I got everything I need," slinging the bag over your shoulder, you grabbed his arm, "you?"

That single touch seemed to send him spiraling again. He froze, staring at your hand as if it would shatter with a single breath. With a nod, he stepped back and let your arm slip off him.

Frowning, you turned to Shinso. "Can I have a minute?"

"Uh, yeah." It was easy to sense the awkward tension in the room, so he excused himself rather quickly. "I'll just be outside."

When Shinso closed the door behind him, you crossed your arms, willing his eyes to meet yours. "Izuku, look at me." After some reluctance, he finally looked up. "I know things are...messy right now, but I need to know you have a clear head tonight." Stepping just a bit closer, you held out your hand. "I know you. I know you're feeling horrible right now and if I could fix everything, I would. But that's not how the world works, we both know that. I'm not upset with you Izuku," you sighed, dropping your head. "When this is over, we definitely have some things to talk about, but right now, I need to know you'll be okay tonight."

A stray tear fell from one of his eyes as he lightly grabbed the offered hand. "How can you forgive me? You should be furious with me."

"Do you want me to be?" you cocked your head, "is that it?"

He went back to staring at your hand, his grip tightening ever so slightly. "No, but...but you should. If they didn't stop me then-"

"Izuku, thinking that way is only going to dig a deeper hole." Grabbing the lapels on his jacket, you pulled him close. "You are a hero and a damn good one. Please just..." the lump in your throat blocked the words so you rested your head on his chest instead. Through his vest, you could feel the thin material of the bandages wrapped tightly around his chest.

That unfamiliar tenseness came back. You'd been together for so long that being around each other was easy, but this was unlike any Izuku you knew. When you had first started dating, he was a cute awkward mess that smiled and laughed because he didn't know what else to do around you. But this...this was an entirely different kind of anxiety. He felt like a stranger and that in itself made you upset.

"I hate this," it was all but a whisper.

"I know, but I have to go-"

"No, that's not what I mean," you twisted your head up to stare at him. "This. I hate this."

"This?" Those giant foresty eyes fell into your own and you could practically hear what he was thinking. 'Me?'

I just-" trying to voice your thoughts was a lot harder than you realized. Mainly because you were still trying to figure them all out. "Once this is over, I want things to go back to normal, but I...I don't think they can."

His fingers rested on either arm, gently digging into the fabric of your sweater. That was the closest he's come to holding you since you left the hospital. He looked so lost, so unsure and it killed you inside. There was a small moment of silence that beat in your ears until he finally nodded, closing his eyes.

"After tonight, whatever you decide," there was a slight warble to his voice, "I'll...support you."

A small hum and you leaned into him before the words clicked in your mind. "Wait, hold on," you pulled back, holding him at arm's length, "that sounds like you think I want to leave. Is that what you think?"

He stared at his shoes, not daring to look at you.

"Or is it the other way around?" Frowning, you shook his arms "Izuku, look at me."

Taking a deep breath, he wrapped his arms across his chest, carefully aware of how much pain even that motion cost him. "If you would've...died, I don't think I can even handle the thought of that. I knew this life was dangerous and I was fine with that, but then you came into the picture and turned everything on its head. You made me realize that there's more to life than just being a hero," a shaky exhale and he continued, "I thought I could handle both. I thought... well, I thought a lot of things that I clearly can't do." He backed away, shaking his head. "I love you more than anything, but if being here with me means you get hurt, then..." those wide eyes of his were desperately searching for some kind of confirmation, but you refused to give it to him.

"Look here," you marched over and poked his chest, "I appreciate the fact that you want to protect me, but I'm a grown woman. I make my own decisions. Not you, or anyone else who thinks they can decide what's best for me." He opened his mouth to say something, but you just held up a hand. "Maybe I hit you in the head too hard, or maybe I didn't hit you hard enough, but you're acting like an idiot. If you think I'm going anywhere, then let me tell you, you've got another thing coming."

Another moment of silence searching your face before a breathy laugh blew past his lips. "Stubborn as always."

"Oh, so I'm the stubborn one?" Jutting out your hip, you crossed your arms and glared at him. "So says the most stubborn man alive."

Finally, a tiny smile took up residence on his face. "Alright, fine. I suppose we can both be a little stubborn sometimes." His fingers delicately reached up to tuck a stray hair behind your ear and lingered there. His hand no longer taut with so much anxiety. "You're amazing."

"Okay, don't go gettin' all sappy when you got a job to do," you said, yet you leaned into his touch. "Besides, you have to go meet up with your date."

Another successful chuckle, "Jealous?"

"You wish," finally pulling away, you picked up your bag and winked at him. "I've already got myself a hot date tonight."

Heading to the door, you left Izuku standing in the living room, eyes wide. "You're just messing with me, right?" He followed after you. "I mean, you don't think he's-"

When you reached the door, you glanced back at him. "What? Jealous?" you fired back and watched as his face flushed red. "I guess you'll have to find out after you come back home in one piece." A brief moment of hesitation before you grabbed his shoulder and pressed a chaste kiss to his cheek. "And you better come back home in one piece."

He blinked when you pulled away. Before he could say anything else, you opened the door and greeted Shinso who was leaning against the porch railing.

"Yo," he waved, somehow looking even more tired.

"I know you're Mr. Badass, but those injuries aren't fully healed. I'm gonna say this again in case you didn't understand the first hundred times; you're going against all my medical advice," you said to Izuku as the three of you walked down the porch. "So just please don't do anything too reckless, okay?"

"I know and I'm sor-" you shot him a warning glare and he coughed out the last part, rubbing the back of his head. "I won't be reckless."

That earned a quiet chuckle from Shinso who opened the car door for you.

"Good," you tossed the purse into the seat, "let's see if you can actually hold up that end of the bargain this time. And if not, here." You slipped a small pouch in the pocket just inside his vest. "It's only if you pull your stitches so try not to pull them in the first place."

"Thank you," he patted the pocket and glanced at Shinso who had gotten into the driver's side. "If you need anything, call me. You'll know where I'll be."

"Likewise," patting his cheek, you gave him another gentle kiss. "Love you."

That smile never ceased to exist every time you kissed him. Even now after everything, it still shined through his nervous exterior. Some things never change. Seeing that brought a smile to your own face as he breathily whispered it back. His fingers swept along your arms, barely touching the skin, but it was more than you'd gotten all day and you'd take it. The two of you stood like that for a moment before you finally slipped into the car.

He closed the door for you and nodded to Shinso. The car slowly backed out of the driveway and Izuku waved goodbye. Not the last goodbye if you had anything to say about it.

After a quiet car ride, you finally arrived at the hospital. White knuckled fingers unclenched themselves from your pants and you let out a heavy breath you hadn't realized you were holding. Guess car rides were just another box to check off on the growing list of things that unsettled you now. Wonderful.

"Thanks for coming with me," you said as the two of you entered the building. "I know it's probably not any fun to play babysitter."

The sun was starting to set, which meant the guests at the gala would be arriving soon for the red carpet event. It would be the first year you weren't with Izuku for it in almost six years. The press would be ruthless this year and if he wasn't careful would try to rip him to shreds. But for now, you had to focus on your own problems in the form of one Mr. Nobusuke: your boss.

"I don't mind really," he shrugged and glanced up at one of the T.V.'s as they passed a waiting area. It was currently broadcasting the live feed from the red carpet event where dozens of heroes were posing for the cameras or being interviewed. "It's better than being there, trying to socialize.

A laugh bubbled out as you tried to imagine Shinso standing on that red carpet smiling for the cameras. Those two images didn't mesh well together.

"Hey, so I never got the chance to properly thank you. You really saved me...us back there."

Pursing his lips, he stuffed his hands into his pockets with a hum. He didn't look all that convinced.

"I think your quirk helped clear his mind a little," you said a bit quieter, aware of the people passing by. "You're really impressive. I mean it."

Turning his gaze on you, he said, "I guess I can see why you and Midoriya go together so well."

"What do you mean?"

"Where's this office at?" Shinso stopped and looked down a few halls.

"Hey, you can't just change the subject like that!" Crossing your arms, you stepped in front of him, but he ignored you and kept walking. "Hey!" you called after him, "what's that supposed to mean?"

"Do you know when I first met Midoriya, I hated him?" It was said so casually. "I was so frustrated that someone who had no grasp of how to use their quirk made it into the hero course." Running a hand through frizzy hair, he continued, "but as I got to know him I realized how relentless he is. Stubborn to a fault and refuses to give up no matter what. Willing to do anything for the people he loves."

You looked at your shoes. "That's Izuku alright."

"It's also you."

"Me?" Now that had you confused. No one's ever compared you to Izuku: the great hero Deku. "I'm not a hero."

"You don't have to be a hero to help someone. It's why you chose this career, right?" he gestured around the building. "Even after everything that happened, you worked till you dropped to save him. Sounds pretty heroic to me." With a shrug, he picked a hall to walk down. "But who am I to say?"

Digesting the words, you looked at him. "How come you didn't want to be a public hero?"

"I don't look so good in the spotlight." Pulling the skin under his eyes, he grinned at you. "I think it's the bags."

"Oh come on, that's not a real answer."

"It's just not the kind of hero I wanted to be. Midoriya has the personality and the quirk fit for the public. But for me, it's easier to work when no one knows who you are. I don't give a shit about recognition and I doubt the public would be very accepting of my quirk anyway. As long as I can still use my power to help, then I'm fine with where I am."

Bumping shoulders, you flashed him a smile. "Well, I think you're cool Shinso, and I'm not just saying that cause you saved my life. Although, that is a bonus." you scored a grin with that one.

The rest of the walk was made in comfortable silence with you trying to avoid eye contact with anyone you might recognize. Nazim had said Mr. Nobusuke was in his office late tonight, still dealing with all the press from the incident. You wanted to catch him off-guard because if he had time to get everything in order, Haru could very well take your job. When you eventually arrived at the door to the office, you stood in front, dreading the talk. Mr. Nobusuke was a no-nonsense kind of guy and after the fiasco in the E.R., you weren't sure what to expect. This should be fun.

"I'll be out here," Shinso smirked, pushing you forward on the small of your back. "Good luck."

Mustering up as much courage as you could, you knocked on the door and heard a gruff voice invite you in. With a deep breath and one last glance at Shinso, you cracked the door and peered inside. "Hello, Mr. Nobusuke."

"Oh, Mrs. Midoriya, come in." He was standing by the bookshelf, shifting through one of his prized leather-bound, first edition books. "I'm surprised to see you here of all places. Shouldn't you be at home resting with your husband? As I recall, he was put on bed rest."

"Uh, well, actually he went to the gala," you said, wringing your fingers, "but there's something I want to talk-"

"He went to the gala in his condition? I suppose nothing holds that man down." He snapped the book closed with a loud pop and carelessly dropped it on the coffee table, causing you to flinch at the noise. "I would think you'd much rather be there than talking with an old man like me tonight." With a bellied laugh, he made his way over to his desk.

"I think you're overestimating how fun galas are." You nervously laughed along with him, tugging at the thick scarf around your neck. "But I did have a reason for coming."

"Oh? Well do sit down then," he pointed to the chair across from his desk. "What brings you in." The chair squeaked and strained under his weight as he lounged back, arms crossed.

Seeing him sitting so relaxed was odd. Maybe it was the time of day. You never really spoke to him outside of working hours other than events. He wasn't the type to socialize with his subordinates nor had the time to. The man grew up in America before moving back to Japan once he graduated. He didn't have the same workplace ideals as everyone else, but he was good at what he did. Despite his aloofness, you managed to secure a good relationship with him. This, on the other hand, was a different side you had yet to see.

"Um," this was far from what you were expecting and somehow his lax attitude was making you more nervous. "I wanted to talk to you about my job."

"I believe you're still on leave, yes?" A grin split across his lips as he sat up and searched through a stack of folders placed neatly on the center of his desk. "After what happened, I would understand if you wanted more time off."

"No, that's the thing," you squeezed your fingers together, watching as he pulled out a thick file. "I don't want any more time off. I want to come back."

"Ah, here they are." he triumphantly held up the folder and opened it. "Do you know what this is?"

"Uh..."

"These are your records." The way he held the folder made it hard to see exactly what was inside. "And complaints."

"Complaints?" Everything was starting to spiral.

"Yes, complaints. Did you know Mr. Haru filed twenty-four complaints against you in the past six months?" He peered over the folder. "In case you're wondering, that's a lot.

"Okay, but-"

"Don't interrupt," those stormy gray eyes of his flashed darkly and you looked down at your hands. "Remind me, how long have you been charge nurse here?"

"Three years."

"Would you say you're doing a competent job?"

This was definitely not going how you planned. "Yes."

"Now I realize you've had a...difficult month, but I need to think about the wellbeing of all my staff and patients. Not just you Midoriya." Tucking the folder back into the stack, he folded his hands and sighed. "So I think it's best we hand over your duties to Haru for the time being. And I think a transfer is in order."

"A transfer?" Hands gripped the edge of the desk as you tried to real in your anger. "Sir, with all due respect, I am more than capable of handling my duties just fine. And Haru, well he-"

"What did I say about interrupting." He held up a hand, cutting you off. "What's done is done. You will be transferred to Admissions when you return from your leave. That is all Mrs. Midoriya."

No. You couldn't just let him do this. You had to do something. "Mr. Nobusuke, please cane we just-"

"That is all." That growl marked the end of the conversation.

Fingers digging into the wood, you stood up. There were so many things you wanted to say, but screaming at your boss would only dig the hole deeper. You needed time to come back with a solid argument, so reluctantly, you let go of the desk and stormed from the room.

Once you burst through the door, you didn't slow down, marching right past Shinso. He hopped off his spot on the wall and caught up with you, hands deep in his pockets.

"Might wanna slow down or you're gonna trample someone," he said, easily keeping pace with you. "Judging by your face and that steam coming out of your ears, I'd say that didn't go well."

You grabbed your ears before you realized what you were doing and scowled at him. "Real funny."

"Okay, just-" Shinso reached out to pull you aside and you instinctively grabbed his wrist and shoved him away. He stumbled back a few feet, holding up his hands. "Sorry, I didn't mean- look, I'm not the best at the whole comforting thing, but I am good at listening. Do you wanna tell me what happened?"

In a vain attempt to tap out the annoyance with your foot, you crossed your arms and glared at the wall. It didn't work, so you turned to him with a huff. "I was demoted. Happy?"

"Why?"

"I don't know!" you burst out, "Haru's always been a pain in the ass. Even Mr. Nobusuke knows that. I've been charge nurse for over three years. I worked my ass off just to get there! All that hard work and I get demoted to Admissions?" Every muscle in your body was clenched, ready to explode any second. "It doesn't make any sense. It's like he's punishing me. I just, I'm just..." you paced back and forth, taking shallow breaths before Shinso caught your shoulders, halting you.

"Take a breath Y/N." He said with a calmness you envied. "Why don't we go get some coffee. You look like you could use some."

Following his advice, you took a few deep breaths, feeling your heart calm just a fraction. In hindsight, you were glad you didn't drag Inko along. Having another breakdown in front of the poor woman wouldn't look good.

Taking the lead, you eventually made your way down to the cafeteria where you ordered your coffee (Shinso put six shots of espresso in his) and sat at one of the tables in the corner.

"I put so much into this place and this is how they treat me?" you grumbled as you ripped a packet of creamer open and dumped it into the cup. "This is not an easy job, but have I ever complained?" a pause, "have I ever complained out loud? No."

"From what Midoriya's told me, you're the best of the best," he said, watching you furiously stir the coffee.

"Well that's just Izuku being Izuku," you waved it off. "But I am quite capable of my job. I could walk back in there tonight and I wouldn't have a problem. People are just getting too hung up on what happened, but I'm fine. They're all treating me like some sort of traumatized child and I'm so sick of it."

Shinso took a large sip. "Well, have you told them that?"

"Yeah, but that's not going to change how they see it." Rubbing your face, you glanced out the large wall of windows lining the cafe. "I mean yeah, it was scary, but if you guys can go through those things every day and come out fine, then why can't I?"

"Whoever said we come out fine?" Shinso cocked his head. "Those experiences change everyone. Trying to compare yourself to how others handle them is only going to lead you down a bad path. Just because we look like we've got it handled doesn't mean that we do. You live with Midoriya, you know that first hand." He leaned back. "Part of being a public hero is hiding everything under that golden rug and dazzling smile, but it's still there. It's always there and anyone who tells you otherwise is lying."

No one had ever been that blunt with you before, not even Tsu. In a way it was refreshing.

"So what do I do then?"

"I don't know if I have an answer to that." Shrugging, he took another long sip. "I think it's something that you need to decide for yourself. What do you want to do about it."

What do you want? That seemed to be the buzzword question lately and despite everything, you were lacking the solution. Deep in thought, your eyes drifted around the room until they landed on the television on the wall behind Shinso. Of course, they'd have the gala on in here. It was on nearly every channel tonight. The event was one of the biggest functions all year and everyone who was anyone would either be there or be watching.

Different heroes sauntered down the carpet, waving those all too fake smiles at the cameras and adoring fans lining the roped-off walkway. A few younger heroes were being interviewed at the moment and you half-heartedly listened to the conversation before the crowd erupted in a sudden uproar that drew the camera's attention.

Izuku had just arrived. Beside him was his mentor, All Might. He plastered a smile to his face and made his way down the carpet a little too stiffly. If you were anyone else, you probably wouldn't have noticed, but you did. He was still in a lot of pain. That wound was far from healed and you were regretting not trying harder to stop him from going.

Every interviewer stationed along the carpet tried to rope him in for a conversation and he expertly avoided them until one bold woman stepped out of her designated area to pull him aside. He was all but powerless to stop her with all the eyes on him.

"A quick word, if you will Deku," the reporter said. He had no choice, leaving now would only hurt his character. Trapped by societal convention. "It's great to see you tonight, but many were speculating that you wouldn't show, given the events of the past few days," she grinned, sparing a glance at All Might, "but here you are looking as healthy as ever and with the former Number One Hero All Might no less." She stuck the mic right under his nose and asked a question that had you holding your breath. "But I suppose everyone is wondering, after all the rumored news these past few weeks, how is your wife, Y/N Midoriya?"

Izuku took a deep breath, shuffling his feet in the back of the car, casting nervous glances out the window every few seconds. He didn't realize he was tapping his feet until Yagi grabbed his knee.

"Calm down son, you're gonna stop a hole in this car if you keep that up," the retired hero tried for a laugh, but Izuku only muttered out an apology before he switched to tapping his fingers on the seat beside him. "Izuku, look at me."

"Hey, Izuku," Yagi whispered, reaching across the little space that separated them in the limo and grabbed his arm. The minute those boney fingers connected, Izuku flinched so hard he slammed his head into the roof.

Ever since Izuku got in the car, the man had been quiet, which wasn't like the Izuku he knew. The man was a chatterbox and only grew worse the more distressed he was. This whole quiet attitude was disconcerting, to say the least. Yagi had never seen him look quite so desolate before. Izuku's face was pale and creased in a nervous concern, deep in thought. His once gelled hair was starting to fray and poke out in certain places from all the times he'd run a hand through it. It would be a miracle if no one noticed anything off about him.

Stunned, he blinked and looked at the older man. One hand carefully rubbing over the bandages concealed under his dress suit. "I'm sorry, did you say something?"

Yagi was quiet for a moment, trying to figure out the right words. "Izuku, are you sure this is the right call? I don't doubt you, but you're still injured. No one would think any less-"

"No, that's not why I'm doing this. I need to be here," he interrupted, sitting straighter and wincing at the sudden motion. "I'm fine. I can handle this."

"No one said you couldn't. I'm just worried," he sighed. "You're not even supposed to be out of the hospital yet. You've always been so reckless with yourself. Don't forget you have friends you can rely on. Don't try to do everything yourself." Yagi paused for a moment, narrowing his eyes, "Are you sure you're not using this to push yourself towards some sort of atonement because-"

"I said I'm fine!" Izuku yelled, dark green eyes shooting a nasty glare to the man he considered a pseudo-father before he realized what he did. With a shake of his head, he leaned forward and rubbed his eyes. "I'm sorry Toshi. I didn't mean to snap at you."

"It's alright," Yagi frowned as he watched his protégé take a slow, pained breath, "I can imagine the stress you're under right now." One of his hands rested on Izuku's shoulder. "I believe you can do anything you set your mind to because, well, I've seen it with my own eyes. But please," he caught Izuku's gaze, "please be careful."

"We have the plan," Izuku seemed to say more to himself than Yagi. "If anything goes wrong, we have the backup plan. It'll work." The car slowed to a stop and the both of them glanced out the tinted windows to see a mob of flashing cameras waiting for them just outside. "Thanks for coming with me."

"Of course," Yagi patted his shoulder, "who else would want an old man like me as their date?" Finally pulling a genuine grin from Izuku, Yagi grabbed the handle. "Ready?"

Another deep breath and he nodded. As soon as the door opened, the buzz of the crowd swelled. Every camera whipped in their direction. Even some of the heroes being interviewed turned their heads.

Izuku had been at the top for a few years now and that in itself always garnered media attention, but this time was different. He'd been at the center of the news for weeks now with different allegations coming from all directions. Some quite scandalous and utterly ridiculous, but they weren't to be taken lightly. And now, he'd made his first public appearance in days, at the gala of all places. That in itself was a statement, whether good or bad was still to be determined. The spotlight was his tonight, even if he didn't want it.

Yagi climbed out first, waving to the crowd, followed by a stilted Izuku. He swallowed that thick ball of nerves in his throat and forced that trained smile on his face. There was no room for error. Not here. Especially not here. As much as his chest ached, he kept his head high and waved for the flashing cameras.

A few heroes lining the red carpet were so caught up in the arrival of Deku and All Might together that they forgot about their own interviews. Everyone wanted a shot at talking to the hero, but Izuku tried his best to avoid getting drawn in by one of the reporters. He just wanted to make it inside the building, away from the public. For the most part, the event was private, save for the speech and performances near the end that were broadcast live. Once he was inside, he could finally breathe.

They made it halfway down the carpet before a woman darted in front of them, blocking Izuku. "A quick word if you will Deku." He was so close to making it inside, but now he'd have to talk. " It's great to see you tonight, but many were speculating that you wouldn't show, given the events of the past few days," that grin radiated a hungry ruthlessness he'd seen in his fair share of reporters. "But here you are, looking as healthy as ever and with the former Number One Hero All Might no less." She shoved the mic in his face. "But I suppose everyone is wondering, after all the rumored news these past few weeks, how is your wife, Y/N Midoriya?"

That was a question he was dreading. He knew they would try to pry out some sensitive answers from him tonight and refusing to answer certain questions was an answer in itself. For the past few years, he was able to mostly keep you out of the public eye, usually only coming up when important events surrounding his status were brought up. This time, you'd been forced into the limelight by a series of events he wasn't able to stop. Saying the wrong thing now would only add fuel to the fire. He needed to choose his words carefully.

"I'm glad everyone is so concerned for my wife's wellbeing," he smiled through his teeth, "but this year the gala is a closed event." He'd worked with the commission to ensure only heroes would be allowed entry for safety concerns. No plus ones this year. That change alone caused quite the commotion, but it had to be done. "So, unfortunately, she couldn't be here with me tonight."

They both knew that wasn't the answer she wanted.

"And what about you?" She pressed, "The Hero Billboard charts will be released soon. Are you worried that your performance this year will knock you out of the top spot?"

A performance. That's all this was. That's all it's become, even to him. Being a hero wasn't about saving people or doing 'good' anymore. It was about rankings and popularity. And he was sick of it.

When he didn't say anything, she continued, "I also hear you were freshly released from the hospital only yesterday?" That was hot topic news to anyone at this point, but even so, his smile wavered for a moment. This woman was relentless. "My sources tell me it was quite a significant injury. How are you faring now?"

"Well, as you can see," he twisted around with a chuckle, "I'm perfectly fine."

"It seems so," she sounded disappointed, "but your wife was rumored to be there as well so-"

"Well, thank you for your time," Yagi cut in, startling the woman. She nearly forgot he was there. "But I believe the event is starting soon." In one easy sweep of his arms, he pulled Izuku away.

Yagi ushered Izuku further down the carpet, leaving the woman open-mouthed, holding the microphone out to no one. She quickly recovered and moved onto another hero walking her way, but Yagi caught the little glare she tossed his way.

Once they made it through the doors and into the foyer, Izuku stepped off to the side, getting a few curious glances. Faint orchestral music replaced the dull roar of the crowd, but he could only focus on his breathing. That little spin he pulled off wasn't doing him any favors. It was bad enough that the wound was barely closed, but he decided against any type of painkillers. He'd had enough of drugs for a long while and in his mind, he rationalized it as needing a clear head tonight. At least that's what he'd told the others. The part he left out, the real reason he decided against it was that he thought he deserved to be in pain right now. It was a small way of atoning. One you would be absolutely furious about if you found out.

"Thanks, Toshi," Izuku sighed, absentmindedly rubbing his chest.

"Well, I should be thanking you," the retired pro smiled, "I didn't have to answer any questions this year."

This time, Izuku did manage a small laugh. When he composed himself again, he looked to the large doors that held the gala. This was it. It would all end here tonight.

Cups nearly empty, you stared out the window, watching small flecks of silvery snow hit the glass and promptly melt. Fingers mercilessly bent the little coffee straw into different shapes. Izuku put on a good show for the camera. That's all it really was, wasn't it? The whole thing was just a show. No one cared about the people behind the masks.

You don't think he'll lose his ranking over this, do you?" A small glance up at Shinso before they flickered back to the straw.

"I don't know." That admission, while honest, flipped your stomach. "There's no pleasing the public. All they want is whatever shiny new thing you dangle in front of them. It's impossible to keep them on your side forever."

The chair screeched against the tile as you stood. Shinso took one last desperate swig of his coffee before getting up to follow you. Your nails dug into the plastic cup as you marched over to the trash bins.

The straw snapped in half. "I want to go home now."

"Hey, I just meant that eventually, they'll find something else to hate on." He caught up to you, leaning on one of the bins. "Don't worry about it. It's got nothing to do with you and everything to do with the system itself."

That wasn't true. It was you that started this whole mess in the first place. As much as Izuku likes to take the blame, the fact was Tatsuya came after you because of you. Even if someone else had set him up for it, you were still involved and it hurt that you couldn't even do anything about it.

"What, so everything's supposed to blow over just like that?" You crossed your arms, turning to him. "It's supposed to be that easy?"

"No, I just meant-"

"Mrs. Midoriya?" A frantic voice spoke up behind you.

Hearing your name called out like that startled you so much, you nearly knocked one of the bins over in your haste to whirl around. Standing a few feet away was a face you'd nearly forgotten in light of everything. "Mr. Miwa?"

Taglist: @dorki-time @miriobaby @thecindy @awilddreamerwrites @sailorstupidsblog @kenmaskitten10 @slytherintothedms @chanyeoloml @tanakasprayer @kiyoobi @justscar @amive2567

#izuku midoriya x reader #pro hero deku x reader #deku x reader #taken series #bnha #mha #deku #midoriya izuku #pro hero deku #angst #hitoshi shinso #all might #yagi toshinori #dadmight #gala #hospital #cursing #injuries #mentions of injuries

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yslkook · 3 years

Text

#move the needle (10)

#corporate masterlist summary: you and jungkook go on a date (or two), and work is...work. word count: 10k warnings: cursing, alcohol, smut (fingering, grinding, making out, sex), discussions of mental health a/n: omg lol this chapter really got away from me. enjoy and ty to @cutechim for loving this couple

Your calendar has quickly become overtaken with periodic lunch dates with Hae-Ri. She feels like a friend now, though you are still cautious with crossing professional and personal boundaries with her. But it feels easy with her- to talk about both the workplace and about personal things.

You’ve dubbed it powersuit hour, because you and Hae-Ri had both showed up in sharp powersuits without telling the other. You had wanted to make a good impression on her and it seems that she just lives in powersuits and heels.

You hate tall heels, but you put them on to match her (sometimes). You decide that the blisters and cuts aren’t worth it and opt for a smaller heel, loafers or oxfords.

Not a single hair of Hae-Ri’s is out of place, not a single smudge of lipstick can be found on her lips (even as she eats) and she oozes charm. She makes you want to straighten your back and sit tall (which you normally do, but now you’re just aware of it).

She makes you want more. Well, she’s part of the reason why you want more from life, from work, from yourself.

The thought of returning to school gradually worms its way into your brain more often than usual, but you stamp it away as quickly as it comes. Dr. Lee tells you to embrace it, but you don’t think you’re ready yet. But maybe one day you will be. Dr. Lee tells you that you’re ready for more than you think you are, that you’ve almost allowed yourself everything you’ve subconsciously forbidden yourself from.

Maybe someday you’ll gather the courage to unlock those parts of yourself.

It’s only been several weeks since you had stayed the night at Jungkook’s apartment and had shared your first of many kisses with him. You find yourself daydreaming about his lips, specifically of his kisses and the slip of his tongue in your mouth quite often during the day.

When you had gone to Yuna’s apartment the next day to pick up your small duffel bag, she had only looked at you knowingly. Despite your cheeks burning, you neither confirmed nor denied anything.

And now, because you and Jungkook both can’t seem to keep your hands off of each other, you’ve taken to waking up forty-five minutes earlier than usual to drive into Seoul to pick him up and go to work together.

Grandma looks at you knowingly, teasing you most of the time as you leave the house. You only glare at her half-heartedly.

It’s a time for you both to have a coffee and a small breakfast together in his apartment. Sometimes Taehyung joins you, giving Jungkook sly looks. Looks that Jungkook pointedly avoids.

On the days that you and Jungkook are alone for an extra ten minutes in his kitchen, he finds himself kissing the gloss right off of your lips with you slotted in between his legs and his hands cradled around your hips. He wishes he could have just a little more with you, a little more than quick morning kisses and coffee, a little more than catching glimpses of you at work.

Jungkook wants more of you. He wants you in his life as a permanent fixture, as his girlfriend. As his best friend. Which is why he’s planning on asking you on a real date today. He’s timed it perfectly, he’ll ask you right after you park the car at work.

He’s already made reservations at a restaurant you had briefly mentioned to him over the last week. You had really only told him out of innocent intentions- simply to tell him just because you had found something you wanted to try. You hadn’t intended to say it as a means for him to ask you on a date.

But if it so happened that way, you wouldn’t complain.

The car ride to work is sometimes quiet, with the faint sound of his playlist coming out of the speakers. Sometimes you both idly chatted about what your morning would look like, or you’d both be singing along to whatever song was playing. You were either holding his hand or touching his thigh with your hand, at any instance that you could, whenever you could.

For someone who hadn’t been held or touched very often, you sure couldn’t get enough of it recently.

“Hey,” Jungkook murmurs when you pull into your usual parking space, “Gotta ask you something, baby.”

“Hmm?” You say distractedly, unbuckling your seatbelt and reaching for your bag in the backseat.

“Pay attention,” Jungkook says gently, cupping your neck. You turn your head to look him in the eyes with a raised eyebrow. His palms feel clammy and he wonders if you feel it against your skin. But he doesn’t pull away.

“Will you-,” Jungkook takes a deep breath, “Go on a date with me? I made reservations at that restaurant you mentioned the other week- fuck, was that presumptuous of me? Should I have asked you first and then made reser-umph-”

You cut him off with a firm kiss to ease him. You smile against the kiss, surely a good sign. But still he needs to hear your approval.

“Ask me again, baby,” You encourage softly, thumbing away stray gloss from his lips.

“Will you go on a date with me? I really like you, if you couldn’t tell, and I want to go on a date with you,” Jungkook says, ignoring the way his cheeks must be red by now.

Your face splits into another beaming smile.

“Yes,” You breathe, “Yes, yes, yes. And if you couldn’t tell. I really like you.”

Another minute of his lips on yours, stealing your breath right before work. The worry of someone seeing you both seems to slip away with the slip of his tongue in your mouth.

“You must be a mind reader,” You say hoarsely, “Because I was just about to make reservations at that restaurant for us.”

Neither of you notice the sly eyes of one Kim Seokjin glancing at you both through the windshield as he walks past your car. You and Jungkook are too blissfully wrapped in each other to notice him.

“So,” Jin says, his voice saccharine sweet. You know that voice, but you’re hardly paying attention to him. He has a secret. A secret about you.

“What?” You bark, not taking your eyes off of your dual monitor as you reply to an email from Hae-ri.

If you paid attention to Jin’s voice, then maybe you could have stopped his questioning before it started. But your back is turned away from him and when he smugly tells you what he knows, you nearly fall off your chair-

“I saw you k-i-s-s-i-n-g Jung-”

“Shut the fuck! Shut the fuck up,” You whisper-shout and discreetly kick him in the shin. He gasps, his pillowy lips parted in feigned shock.

“Hey! These are my good pants,” Jin protests indignantly, “Besides it’s not like either of you were hiding, I mean you were sucking the poor man’s face off-”

“Seokjin!” You hiss, “Will you shut up-”

“You should be grateful it was just me and not someone more important-”

“At this point, I would rather it have been someone else, considering how obnoxious you are-”

“Really? You would’ve rather your boss have walked by you sucking face with our resident golden boy?”

“Shut up,” You groan and sink into your seat but you can’t help but laugh, “We should’ve been more careful…”

“Oh so now there’s a we?” Jin says in hushed tones with wide eyes, “I knew it. Yuna and I both called it, after that night in the bar. But you wound me, I can’t believe you didn’t tell me-”

“Jin,” You complain, “Later, I promise.”

“Okay,” His face splits into a wide smile and he pauses for a second before saying, “I’m proud of you.”

He squeezes your shoulder reassuringly before leaving your cubicle.

Jungkook’s throat is dry when he pulls up in front of your house. He takes a sharp swig of water before texting you with nervous fingers that he’s arrived.

And when you step out of your house in heels, a burgundy long sleeved top tucked into your tight, black pants, Jungkook groans to himself.

How do you always look so good?

He immediately hops out of the car to greet you with a quick hello and a side hug. Without saying another word, he approaches your Grandma and swallows his nerves immediately and bows in front of her.

Parents and grandparents love him, he has nothing to worry about.

“You must be Jungkook,” Grandma says swiftly, crossing her arms across her chest and eyeing him carefully.

If he sees the panic in your eyes, he doesn’t acknowledge it.

Jungkook smiles widely, bunny smile on display and Grandma, to your surprise smiles back.

“You must be Grandma,” Jungkook says, his voice a little teasing.

“What gave it away,” Grandma says sarcastically.

“Your granddaughter has the same pretty eyes,” Jungkook says genuinely and you hold back a roll of your eyes. But Grandma eats it up, because who wouldn’t?

“Bring my granddaughter back before midnight, huh?” Grandma says, half joking and waving a finger at him.

“Grandma! Don’t embarrass me,” You nearly whine and try to tug Jungkook away but he stays rooted on the spot.

“Wouldn’t dream of anything else, Grandma,” Jungkook says, “I’ll have her back safe and sound.”

“No funny business-”

“Grandma! We’re leaving,” You hiss, glaring at your laughing Grandma as you drag Jungkook away.

“Sorry about her,” You mumble once you're seated in the passenger’s seat and press a kiss to the corner of his lips.

“Grandma’s right there, don’t try any funny business,” Jungkook teases and waves at Grandma. Of course she waves back.

“Alright, princess, you ready for the best first date of your life?” Jungkook says airily, not really expecting a response. But you make a funny noise in between a laugh and a groan.

“I don’t have much to compare this first date to, if I’m being honest,” You confess with a shrug.

“That doesn’t matter,” Jungkook says easily, “Besides, this is the only one that matters.”

Jungkook is the perfect gentleman the entire night, not that you expected anything less from the man who has a heart of gold. He walks you into the restaurant with a hand over your lower back as he smoothly gives his name for the reservation. The host leads you both to a quiet corner of the restaurant- you wonder if he’d specifically requested that. The lights are dim, miniature chandeliers hanging from the ceiling and illuminating you in a pretty golden wash.

“After you, baby,” He murmurs, giving you a squeeze of your hip and gesturing for you to slide into the mahogany seats of the booth.

Jungkook sits across from you, eyes sparkling in the glow of the restaurant. The host leaves you both with menus, embossed in red and gold.

Dinner with him is easy- it’s easy to be yourself, to let yourself relax. You playfully push your foot to his and let it slide up his calf. To which he does the same and winks at you. Talking to him is easy, and just being in his presence makes your heart burst and speed up in anticipation.

The backseat of Jungkook’s car even smells like him, but maybe that’s because your head is against the broad expanse of his chest. The warm, spicy scent of his cologne pleasantly fills your nostrils and you hum. His heartbeat is pressed right against your ear, a calming symphony that has you mesmerized. Jungkook’s arm is draped over your shoulder and he rubs your shoulder over your blouse.

You both sit in a comfortable silence together. You don’t really want to let the night end, not just yet.

Jungkook looks down at you, a small smile on his face as he tugs your hand in his and squeezes. Your heart jumps in your chest at the small action- you can’t resist looking up at him and leaning in closer.

Your gaze dips to his pouty, pink lips back to his doe eyes. “Kiss me, Bambi,” You demand softly, and his lips are on yours in the same breath. He’s playful, squeezing your hips and giggling into your mouth.

But at some point, your tongue slips into his mouth with a satisfied hum and your hands thread through his soft hair, tugging gently. He moans into your mouth and you swallow everything he breathes into you.

Jungkook tastes like everything you want. The city lights around you fade away when you’re in his arms- all you see is the swell of his lips and the way he looks at you as if you contain the universe in your kiss.

You always want him to look at you like this. It’s easy to push away the distant memory of his cold eyes from months ago when he holds you tightly and kisses you as if he’s trying to pour his soul into you. His chest is flush against yours- his warmth enveloping you in every crevice. Jungkook presses his forehead against yours when your hips start rocking into his, a low and broken moan spilling from his throat.

“Jungkook,” You mumble, tightening your grip around his head, “Feels good…”

The heat of your clothed pussy against his clothed cock is enough to tint his cheeks. Jungkook holds you steady with one hand on your hips and the other cradling your neck. You lean into his touch eagerly, speeding your own movements up against him.

“Rock with me, baby,” Jungkook says hoarsely, moving your hips in time with his. You look at him with hooded eyes as you lean forward for a rushed kiss, the sound of your broken moans cut off by the urgency of your kiss.

Your hips roll into his in a practiced symphony and neither of you are patient enough to pull away for a breath. You just want him- you want all of him, anything he’ll give you. You want him to devour you- you want to feel his heartbeat beside yours.

You want him to feel good with you, as good as you feel with him. You want more.

“Can I touch you,” Jungkook asks softly, pulling away to look at you. You’re nodding already before he even finishes the question, impatiently untucking your blouse from the waistband of your pants.

“Take it off, baby,” You nearly whine at him, “Want you to take it off.”

“Are you sure,” Jungkook rasps.

“Yes,” You say impatiently, “Don’t you wanna see me baby? See your dream girl’s tits?”

Jungkook’s throat goes dry, his cock jumping at your words and you smirk at him. Your eyes are swirling with mischief and desire.

For him. You want him.

Jungkook tugs at your top impatiently, pushing it up and off of your shoulders and unclasps your bra in one quick motion.

“Fuck,” Jungkook breathes, eyes glued to your chest. He’s unable to look away from the color and swirls of ink painting your glowing skin, blooming on your shoulder and dipping into your chest. He sees a wash of color nearly hidden in the valley of your breasts.

“Will you tell me about your tattoos someday,” Jungkook asks softly, cradling your cheek.

“Mmm, maybe if you get a second date,” You tease and turn your head slightly to kiss his palm.

“And what does a guy have to do to get a second date?” Jungkook asks, curling his hands around your tits.

“You make me cum twice and you get a second date,” You sigh breathily when he squeezes you delicately. You grind your hips into his to get him to touch you more and he pinches your nipple playfully.

“Oh, that’s all?” Jungkook asks cockily, his voice bursting with confidence.

“You-ohhh, Jungkook,” You gasp when he dots your neck in featherlight kisses, tracing his way over your tattoos with his lips as he learns the curves of your body.

“Shit,” You groan, throwing your hands out to brace yourself against his broad shoulders, “Fuck, Jungkook…”

He buries his face in your chest, inhaling your woodsy, musky perfume as his big hands trail your sides and heat you up from within. Jungkook’s lips suddenly shift to kiss your tits and you moan, possibly louder Jungkook’s ever heard you moan before.

You’d be a little more embarrassed (maybe, likely not), if you didn’t want him to do that again. And again. And again.

Jungkook thinks your tits look good in his hands and he thinks buried in between them might be one of his favorite places to be. You’re so warm in his lap- you look like an angel, a goddess above him.

His dream girl. His dream girl in his lap, in his arms, moaning his name. Moaning for him.

His cock hardens more just from your soft sounds. He’s desperate for you, rutting his hips against you as he licks your nipple. He looks up, watching for your reaction- your eyes are hooded, lips parted in desire. You thread your hands through his dark strands and push his head further into your chest.

Jungkook pulls away from kissing your tits with a soft pop! The haze clouding your mind begins to lift and you frown at him, about to chastise him, but he only maneuvers you so that your back is flat against the car seat and he’s hovering over you.

Your breasts bounce and he can’t look away. He is only a man, after all. You smirk at him and drag your foot over his thigh before wrapping both legs around his narrow waist.

“Do that again. I’ve never felt like that before,” You confess airily, pressing a hand to his chest and scratching lightly.

“Nobody’s sucked on your tits before, princess?” Jungkook asks curiously.

“Well, not like that…” You shrug, “And… it’s been a long time, you know? I didn’t really… Didn’t really want to do much of anything for a long time.”

“I know, baby,” Jungkook coos, settling his weight on top of you and kissing you deeply, “I’m happy you picked me.”

“Me too,” You mumble, “I’m happy you picked me, too.”

It’s a tight fit, but Jungkook finds a way to make it work. You tug at his sweater wanting to feel and see his arms and his chest. He’s your Bambi, your golden boy, and you want to feel golden, too.

Jungkook pulls away for a moment and pulls his sweater off of him, rustling his dark hair in the process. You hum, delighted that his bare skin is only inches away from you.

You trace his tattoos with your fingers curiously, enjoying the way the corded muscle of his arm feels under your skin. “Will you tell me about your tattoos someday,” You repeat his words back to him, rubbing his arm fondly.

“Maybe if you get a second date,” Jungkook teases, giving your words right back to you. He kisses your lips quickly, then licks a stripe down your neck, kissing your collarbones...your chest, your belly. He wants to keep his lips here, along the swell of your tits, just to pull those noises from your throat for even a second longer.

“And what does a girl have to do to get a second date,” You exhale shakily.

“Mmm,” Jungkook says thoughtfully, “I make you cum twice, and you get a second date.”

A choked noise rips from your throat and Jungkook only grins salaciously at you. He brackets your head with his thick forearms- you can see the blooms and swirls of colors of his tattoos in your periphery. But really all you want to do is focus on him.

Jungkook can’t get enough of the smooth push and pull of your lips against his. Somehow, you both move in synchronized harmony- you follow him and he follows you. You swallow his moans and he swallows your sighs. Give and take.

But right now, he just wants to give.

You roam his forearms, his biceps, squeezing and touching lightly as you make your way to his shoulder blades. A moan of his name sits in between you both when you feel the corded lines of muscle.

You can’t believe this beautiful man is laying on top of you like this. “You’re pretty,” You mumble, “Pretty boy Bambi.”

Jungkook takes your teasing without complaining, so long as you continue to rake your nails along his back like that.

Besides he has plenty of time to quiet your teasing.

Your back arches off of the seat when he licks your nipple, swirling his tongue around your sensitive skin.

You didn’t think it could ever feel that good, but the man clearly knows what he’s doing. And that’s a conversation for another time. As he nips and licks your tits, he grinds his hips into yours. You feel the hot glide of his clothed, hardened cock against your already soaked pussy- and how are you supposed to let him leave this car without making him cum as well?

“You could cum like this, couldn't you?” Jungkook says softly, looking up at you from your chest with hooded eyes.

You nod- words seem to fail you.

“Use your words, baby,” Jungkook encourages, cupping your chin with his index finger and his thumb.

“Yes, but-“ You cut your train of thought off as he speeds his hips up against you. He’s struggling too, it seems, his brow furrowed and sweat beginning to gather at his forehead. His hair falls into his eyes and you instantly push it away.

You always want to see his eyes.

“But what,” Jungkook murmurs. his grip on you is tight, and he’s right- you could most definitely cum like this. Just from his simple touch and his warm mouth.

“More, I want more,” You breathe, “Will you…”

But Jungkook doesn’t let you finish, only rolling your nipples in his fingers as he kisses your tits. He senses your thighs beginning to quake and your eyes beginning to roll back. You latch your hands onto his upper arms as Jungkook rocks into you, and you feel the coil snap with a loud call of his name you cum in his arms.

He hasn’t even touched you yet. He smirks at you but you return his gaze unabashedly, despite the heat in your cheeks.

If you look that beautiful coming undone just from grinding on him, he wonders how you’ll look when he eats you out. When he fucks you on his cock. Or even his fingers.

“One down, one to go,” Jungkook teases and you swat his chest.

“I liked that,” You admit softly and pull him down for a gentle kiss to his neck and then his lips.

“Me too,” Jungkook smiles, eyes sparkling as he nudges your nose with his. He kisses you again, lazily and slowly as you float down from your bliss. Your bliss with him in it.

“You were saying something earlier,” Jungkook murmurs, barely a hair’s breadth from you.

“Oh,” You reply, a little dazed, “Oh yeah.”

“Wanna finish your train of thought?”

“Absolutely,” You grin, threading your hand through his and pulling his other hand to rest on your chest. You hum contentedly when he squeezes, eyes glossing over your tattoos in curiosity.

For another day.

“I wanna fuck you,” You say bluntly, taking Jungkook by surprise. His lips part in surprise and it makes you giggle. “What, cat got your tongue, Bambi?”

“N-no,” Jungkook stutters, “No. ‘M not fuckin’ you for the first time in my car.”

“And why not,” You complain, raking your nails over his abs impatiently and palming his cock through his pants, “I mean I know, it’s a tight fit, but-”

“No,” Jungkook says firmly, “I’m not making love with you for the first time in my car, baby. Gonna wine, dine, and sixty-nine you-”

“Oh, now you’re making love to me, huh?” You tease with a knowing smile, cradling his face in your hands, “But I just want your cock, and you’ve already wine and dined me…”

“You’ll have my fingers instead,” Jungkook murmurs, his voice low and rough. You gasp at how deep his voice has gone, how smooth it sounds.

How his words demand respect and you want to listen to him.

“How does that sound, baby? Does my pretty baby want my fingers?” Jungkook asks and you nod, biting your bottom lip harshly.

“You’ll tell me if you want me to stop,” Jungkook says, pulling your bottom lip out of the grip your teeth have on it.

You only nod but Jungkook shakes his head. “Use your words, baby,” Jungkook murmurs, “Use your words with me.”

“Y-yes,” You say, cheeks heating up, “Want your fingers. And I-I’ll tell you if I want you to s-stop.”

“Good girl,” Jungkook says, not missing your soft but sharp inhale, “Gonna unbutton your pants now, alright?”

His hands are gentle and firm as he drags your pants down your legs, but not all the way. After all, it’s too tight of a space to properly do much of anything. The sight of a large group of flowers on your upper thigh distracts him- his kisses up your calf and along your thigh make you feel a little shy.

You’re on a cloud, you must be- a slow moving, cotton candy soft cloud where your head is empty and filled with thoughts only of Jungkook and his touch. His big hands gripping your thighs as if it’s nothing, cramped but close to you as much as he can be.

“Cute panties, baby,” Jungkook teases, snapping the waistband of your plain baby pink underwear.

“Shut up,” You grin, tugging at his hair playfully.

“You know,” Jungkook says throatily, “Wanna take my time with you. Make you cum with my fingers first, then on my tongue… but you’re so fuckin’ impatient, baby. What am I gonna do with you?”

What comes out of your mouth next isn’t your fault, it’s really not. It’s not your fault that his abs flex right in your face, that his arms flex and bulge in front of your very eyes. It’s not your fault your eyes instantly land on his big hands, specifically, the hand lined with tattoos on his knuckles spilling into his forearm and his bicep.

“Choke me,” You blurt out without thinking.

Your stupid, silly mind. Running faster than you can keep up with. And yet, embarrassment eludes you. You grin a little sheepishly when he looks at you with wide, surprised doe eyes.

“Too soon?” You shrug, your smile fading and feeling a little self conscious when he stays silent for longer than a moment, “I’m sorry, ‘m awful at reading the room-”

“No, no,” Jungkook murmurs, stopping your train of thought before it begins, “You just surprise me. That’s all.”

“I hope that’s a good type of surprise,” You laugh nervously, “And not like the type of surprise you get when you turn your work computer on and realized you missed a meeting that was put on the calendar after you logged off-”

“Definitely a good type of surprise,” Jungkook nearly purrs.

“Okay,” You say faintly.

Your mind is spinning, taking off in another direction with Jungkook right by your side. He parts your thighs easily, dotting your inner thighs with needy kisses.

“You’re so fucking pretty,” Jungkook moans into your skin, “Smell so good. Bet you taste even better, pretty girl.

“But that’s for another day, when my legs aren’t about to give out from being cramped.”

You laugh, pulling a crinkly-eyed smile from him too. He shifts a little to kiss your hips, hands never leaving your heated skin. Vulnerability crawls up your arms uneasily when he pushes your panties to the side. He wants to pull them off of your bare legs but there’s not enough room in the car, so this will do. You don’t recall the last time anyone had seen you like this- you swallow in anticipation, trying to prop yourself up on your elbows to watch him.

But Jungkook only looks at you adoringly, as if he can’t believe you’re opening yourself up to him in this way. He hovers over you, slotting himself in between your legs and presses his lips to yours quickly.

You gasp into his mouth, a soft cry of his name filling the comfortable quiet when his index finger slips into your pussy. It’s been so long- and you can’t recall a time when it felt like this. Pretty noises spill from your bitten lips as you try to wrap your legs around his narrow waist. His eyes are burning into yours, your cheeks heating up from the intensity of his gaze.

You don’t know where to put your hands and your brief panic is evident in your face. You feel awkward around him a little- he’s clearly adept with his fingers, his hips rolling in a practiced symphony. And then there’s you.

You can’t even meet his eyes when the soft noises of your wetness fill the space between you both.

“Hey,” Jungkook says a little gruffly, his fingers still stuffed in your pussy, “It’s just me. You can touch me, baby.”

“O-okay.”

You tentatively press your fingers to his sides, trying not to feel so awkward. But the more he reassures you, the more he drops kisses to your neck and the more he rubs your clit, you relax.

Jungkook is nothing if not a quick learner, and he’s on a mission to learn what you like. He watches your face carefully with each stroke of his fingers in you and quickly finds a steady rhythm that has you gripping his arms tightly. The slight bite of pain from your freshly done nails is nothing compared to the way his name sounds like flowers blooming on your lips.

He thinks he’s got a pretty good read on you.

“Good girl,” Jungkook tests and smirks when a gush of wetness coats his fingers. You squirm in his arms, from embarrassment and to get more friction, but he’s not having any of it.

“I told you,” Jungkook rasps, “It’s just me, princess. Just wanna take care of you. You gonna let me?”

Before you can reply, Jungkook draws lazy circles on your clit and your head jerks backwards as you squirm. The back of your head hits the door panel with a thunk and you wince with a laugh.

“Sorry, baby,” Jungkook murmurs with a soft grin and cradles the back of your head, “Next time, I’ll take you home like you deserve.”

“Next time? You still owe me an orgasm,” You tease.

Jungkook’s eyes shift as he strokes you again, your teasing words dying on your tongue. “I know you’re close, baby,” Jungkook groans, “Can feel it.”

He scissors his fingers inside you and speeds his circles on your clit. “O-oh-Jungkook,” You mumble, “Fuck, that feels good- Oh!”

Jungkook catches it before you do, the way your thighs begin to quiver, your grip on him tightening and your eyes squeeze shut.

“Cum, baby, cum all over my fingers,” Jungkook murmurs, “Good girl, my pretty girl.”

You whine at his words, the sound ripping out of your mouth sounding foreign to you as the pressure building finally blossoms in your belly and snaps. Waves of pleasure push through you, haziness surrounding your eyes. But all you can really make out is Jungkook and his pretty, brown eyes.

He pulls his hands away from your pussy and you blink at him with wide eyes when he shows you his glistening fingers with a crooked grin. Your mouth falls open in surprise when he licks his fingers clean and grins at you salaciously. You swallow nervously.

“Knew it. Knew you’d taste good,” Jungkook says and kisses you harshly. You wish you weren’t in the confines of the car, so you could properly feel him.

You feel as if the air has been punched out of your lungs. The man slotted on top of you, pressing soft kisses to your hair and caressing your cheeks is somehow the same man with a filthy mouth on him.

Ah. The duality of man, you suppose.

“Holy shit,” You mutter.

“How was that?” Jungkook asks, sincerity in his voice, “Too much? Are you okay?”

“Holy shit,” You repeat, “That was...fun. I liked that. A lot. And…”

You look away from him, feeling a little shy but he has a hand on your chin and pulls your gaze back to him. “And?”

“And… I-uh,” You stammer, “I-I’m- it feels really good with you. With you specifically. And I hope… that I can make you feel as good as you make me-umph-”

He cuts you off with a bruising kiss, somehow holding your hips tight in his hands. You can feel the hardness and heaviness of his cock against your hip and it makes you swallow.

“W-what about you,” You mumble against his lips, “I wanna take care of that for you-”

“Next time, baby,” Jungkook promises you and you pout at him. He only laughs, eyes crinkled and he kisses your pout away. “I promised Grandma I’d have you home by midnight-”

“Glad to see you’re a man of your word,” You murmur and Jungkook pulls off of you, somehow ignoring how hard his cock is in the confines of his pants. He helps you button up your pants and cleans up your smudged lip gloss. Your eyes are immediately drawn to the tent in his pants and he clicks his tongue at you.

“My eyes are up here,” He teases, “Second date, baby. Just wanted to make you feel good.”

“There’s a lot riding on that second date, huh?” You muse, “Maybe I will, too. Ride you, I mean. On our second date.”

Grandma is asleep when you fumble with the keys and try to open the door as quietly as you can without disturbing her. Your face is incredibly heated and your lips are pulled apart in a permanent smile. As they usually seem to be around Jungkook.

He waits for you to go inside and waves at you as he takes off.

You’re giddy as you tiptoe to your bedroom to change, do your nighttime skincare routine and get into bed. You had told Jungkook to text you when he gets home, but really, you might just text him anyways. It should take him about twenty minutes to get home, considering the late hour.

Your phone lights up with his name and you can’t help but smile fondly.

Jungkook: im home You: me too Jungkook: very funny You: :) You: I had a great time tonight kook Jungkook: me too :) You: goodnight You: baby You: 💗 Jungkook: goodnight princess 💖

Sleep comes easily to you that night.

You: i’m really sore You: also good morning

And somehow Jungkook is supposed to respond to your text as if that doesn’t send a pulse of desire down his spine. He knows you say it innocently, probably just to genuinely tell him. But he can’t help where his thoughts go.

Honestly, the minute he got home, he had to take a shower and jerk himself off with how uncomfortably hard he was. He flushes when he thinks about how pretty and pliant you looked in his arms the night before, how the blatant trust and adoration in your eyes was reserved only for him.

It sends another rush of heat to his cock. He can’t believe he fingered you in his car of all places- he genuinely hadn’t planned for it to happen. But it did, and he loves that you feel comfortable with him.

He wonders if it’s going too fast- too much, too soon. He had confessed to Taehyung later the following afternoon over ramen that he was scared of making you uncomfortable-

“She hasn’t been in a serious relationship before, I don’t want to push too hard,” Jungkook says after slurping his ramen.

“I think she would tell you if you’re pushing too hard,” Taehyung says bluntly, “She’s never held back before, has she?”

“No, but-”

“Have you ever known her to be anything other than honest with you? Besides, she’s the one who stopped you both from going further that one morning she came over for coffee before work right?”

“Yeah… said it was making her nervous how quickly we got to this level of closeness.”

“Exactly. Just ask her to be honest with you, ask her if she’s comfortable, and go from there.”

Taehyung punches his shoulder and Jungkook nearly chokes.

It feels so easy with you- easy to talk to you, easy to gauge your feelings, your wants and desires. He can’t recall it being this easy with anyone else. Jungkook chastises himself for comparing you to other women in his past.

He has to remind himself to not think of you with rose-tinted glasses. You’ve chastised him for it once or twice before-

“Jungkook,” You mumble softly, running a hand through his hair.

“Hmm?”

“You know I love when you call me your dream girl,” You admit, “But you have to promise me something.”

“What’s that?”

“Don’t… don’t put me on this pedestal. Don’t think of me a certain way where you excuse when I hurt your feelings or do something wrong.”

“O-okay.”

He thinks you’re perfect, imperfections and all.

The only instruction Jungkook gives you for your second date is to dress up a little, on the dressier side of casual. And he tells you that you’ll be outdoors and that he has a backup plan in case it rains. Though he’s hoping that it doesn’t.

A few weeks have gone by since Jungkook had taken you to dinner and made you cum twice in his car (a memory that you tuck away for when your fingers dip into your panties). You still see Jungkook pretty often- picking him up from his apartment a few times a week, seeing him at work, sneaking glances and kisses.

He asks you if you’d like to stay the weekend with him as part of your second date.. Your first instinct is to wholeheartedly say yes, but you hesitate. Is it too soon?

Does that even matter? You panic, telling Jungkook you would let him know. And immediately talk it out with Jin and Yuna, feeling much better after-

“Do you want to stay at his place?” Yuna asks bluntly.

“Yeah-”

“Then stay at his place,” Jin chimes in.

“But you don’t think it’s too soon? We’ve only been on one date, I mean what if it’s moving too fast and we just- we just get tired of each other-”

“I think you’re both two consenting adults who are super fuckin’ into each other. Just enjoy yourselves,” Jin shrugs, “We’re too old for games anyway.”

“I know that,” You sigh, “I just- isn’t there supposed to be more of a chase?”

“You can make him chase you while still sleeping with him before the second date,” Yuna says slyly.

“You speaking from experience?” You grin and Seokjin sputters, a dash of red tinting his cheeks.

And then Grandma had convinced you to spend the weekend at Jungkook’s apartment. She knows more than you let on, you think. She must know how you’re both itching to have each other and be in your own bubble for a bit. She manages to persuade you that final inch and give into what your heart wants. She tells you to be happy and embrace it for once.

She tells you she’ll call you everyday and you nod. So you text Jungkook, telling him that you’ll come by on Friday after work.

And Jungkook can’t help the rush of giddiness that follows. Friday can’t come soon enough- the rushes, stolen glances and kisses aren’t cutting it for him. Excitement courses through his veins at the thought of you spending the entire weekend with him. He makes sure the already clean apartment is spotless for when you arrive, groceries are stocked, and he makes sure that your favorite candle of his is stocked up.

You had gone to Jungkook’s apartment complex from home after work on Friday with your night bag and promises from Grandma. You had picked up a bottle of wine, a box of chocolate croissants for Jungkook and Taehyung and some flowers, as it was your first time spending the weekend at his place.

Excited nerves bounce around in your head.

Jungkook had come down to greet you once you had street parked (an impressive parking job, if you do say so yourself), and he had planted a deep kiss on your lips. As if he hadn’t seen you only a few hours prior. But still, you laugh and it’s loud and giddy.

You’ve never stayed the night with any boyfriend (not that you have one to compare the experience to), but because it’s Jungkook… it makes you giddy.

Jungkook wordlessly takes your bag from you easily and slings an arm around your shoulders, his eyes crinkling with his smile. You staying the weekend makes his heart burst- he hopes you have as much fun with him as he has with you.

He kisses you hello in the elevator, arm still slung around your shoulders. “Hi,” Jungkook breathes.

“Hey,” You say just as softly, “I’m glad I’m here.”

“Me too,” Jungkook says into your hair and takes your hand once you arrive on his floor.

He smiles at you brightly, your favorite bunny smile sending butterflies through your belly. He tells you to get comfortable, so you say hello to Taehyung who pulls you into a hug and shoots Jungkook a sly look over his head.

Jungkook can’t even bring himself to roll his eyes at Taehyung, too caught up with the fact that you were in his apartment for the entire weekend.

Friday night had been spent watching scary movies, eating soup and meat and drinking wine in the living room. You had fallen asleep cuddled close to Jungkook, tucked into his side in your night clothes.

He carries you to his bed, kissing your forehead and quickly falling asleep next to you. He dreams of you and wakes up with you, a rosy notion that he falls in love with more each time.

Jungkook feels you peppering him with barely there kisses, your arm lazily sliding around him to cup his cheek. He doesn’t open his eyes, only holding your wrist in place and leaning into your warm touch.

“I know you’re awake,” You murmur, a smile in your voice. He loves your morning voice, the rich honey of it that only he gets to hear.

Jungkook only hums. You huff, sidling up closer to him and throwing your leg over his waist. His grip on you drifts to your waist and a smile ghosts his face.

“Good morning, baby,” You try again, pressing a kiss to his lips. This seems to wake him up and he rolls you on your back, slotting himself between your thighs and murmuring his own ‘good morning’.

“Wanna tell you somethin’ Kook,” You murmur against his lips.

“Yeah?” Jungkook says, lips pressed against the column of your throat. He pulls away when you whine at him for his attention on what you’re about to say and he blinks the still warm arms of sleep from his eyes.

You wonder if you should splay your heart out to him, or turn your back on your heart and allow your brain to speak for it. But he’s looking at you so endearingly that you embrace your tender heart this time.

“I really like you,” You say softly. It’s not new information for him, but you like repeating it to him whenever you can.

“You don’t like like me? I’ve missed a step somewhere,” Jungkook teases, laughing when you smack his shoulder. But you laugh with him, because that’s how it is between you both. Only smiles and laughter and almost love.

“I really, really like you, sweet girl,” Jungkook murmurs.

You look at him with hearts in your eyes, excitement in your smile and pull him in for another kiss. “I like you so much, Jungkook,” You mumble, determination in your eyes. Before he can reply and tell you the same, your nails scratch at his chest.

It doesn’t take much for his cock to harden fully- he’d already been more than half hard when you had woken him up with kisses. It only takes a few whispered words, a few strokes of your hand on his bare chest, a few slips of your tongue in his mouth, a few glides of your hips.

Jungkook lazily lets you flip him on his back, his hands nestled over your hips from under your shirt. Your nails are gentle over his skin, eyes wide as if you’re trying to soak in every inch of him and commit him to memory. He pulls you down for a kiss, and then another, and palms your tits playfully. Pulling a soft groan out of you.

The gentle tug of fatigue still dots your limbs, your body moving just as slowly as your mind. All you know is that you want him to feel good, your pretty boy.

The way the dim sunlight filters onto your skin makes you glow golden. Jungkook is mesmerized when you pull your night shorts off, hovering over his hips. You look to him curiously, hands stalling over his boxers.

“Wanna ride you,” You say simply.

“Thought I told you that was for after our second date,” Jungkook teases, “Besides, you’re not wet enough-”

“I can ride you like this,” You mumble, brushing your clothed pussy over his clothed cock, “Wanna make you feel good, too.”

“Is this okay?” You whisper unsurely, eyes wide and searching for his approval.

“More than, baby,” Jungkook says hoarsely, “You’re so pretty. My pretty girl.”

You grind your hips into his, the warmth of his body lighting you up from within. Just being near him, being on top of him like this, makes your pussy clench around nothing. Jungkook can see a wet patch forming on your panties with each drag of your clit over his cock.

You groan softly, bursts of slow honey erupting from behind your eyelids. You reach for his hand on your hip and thread your fingers through his, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. His eyes begin to wander just as yours do- to your thighs and the swirls of ink curling along your skin, your wide, blown out eyes.

Jungkook lets the pads of his fingers sink into your thighs and he groans with half-lidded eyes. A soft flush creeps up his chest and blooms on his cheeks at the noises coming out of your mouth and spilling into the quiet, morning air.

He doesn’t know where he wants to touch- he just knows he wants to touch you everywhere. He can’t get enough of the feel of you in his arms. You’re a vision above him, hips moving languidly, hands raking over his forearms. It’s quiet between you both, the stillness of the early morning still weighing on his shoulders.

Jungkook feels it building in his belly, a coil almost ready to snap. It only takes a few more drags of your nails on his skin, a few more of your breathy sighs of his name, a few more lazy swivels of your hips on his aching cock for him to cum in his boxers. His eyes nearly roll to the back of his head, swirls and images of you at the back of his eyelids imploding as he groans your name.

“Kook,” You mumble, “Wanna cum. Help me, make me cum.”

Jungkook focuses on you, eyes drawn to the intensity with which you grind on his softening cock. He presses his thumb to the wet spot on your panties that has dripped onto his boxers, mixing with his own cum.

“Oh, honey,” Jungkook sighs, “Look at you. Messy girl. My pretty baby can’t cum on her own, huh? Need me?”

“Yeah,” You nod eagerly, “Yeah, I need you, baby…”

It only takes the slip of his fingers into your panties, swiping over your glossy folds and a few lazy rubs of his thumb for you to come undone just by his touch. Your eyelids flutter, a quiet whisper of his name tucked into the planes of his chest.

“You’re messy,” You grin and eye his boxers. He gives you a sheepish grin.

“Stay here,” Jungkook murmurs. He rolls off of the bed, feeling quite gross with his sticky boxers sticking to him like a second skin. He takes a pair of clean underwear and washes himself down carefully.

“It’s still early,” You say once he returns to bed with you, pulling you into his side and rubbing your shoulder adoringly, “Sun’s barely up yet.”

“So let’s go back to sleep for a bit,” Jungkook murmurs, rolling onto his side and pressing his chest to your back. He’s already dozing off, your warmth filtering around him like a cloud.

You wake up with his soft lips on your neck, his hands loose around your waist, and his nose in your hair. “Lemme make you cum again,” Jungkook says groggily into your hair.

So you do.

Jungkook hadn’t told you much about where your second date would be taking place. You had been suspicious when he had packed the trunk of his car in a rush, not really allowing you to poke around and ask questions.

It’s about a twenty minute ride to wherever he’s taking you to, and you spend most of it chit-chatting or staring out of the window, enjoying the cool springtime sunshine.

A beautiful park comes into view, lush trees and shades of orange, pink and purples. When he parks and pulls out a large picnic basket for you with a shy smile, you can hear your heart beating in your ears loudly. You can’t help the grin that threatens to take over your face. He has a hand at the small of your back loosely as he leads you further and further into the park.

It’s a beautiful day, perfect for your blouse, light jacket and your jeans. Kids are running around with their friends and parents, but really, it just feels like you and Jungkook are alone in a bubble.

“What’s all this, Jungkook?” You murmur, sitting next to him once you lay out the dark green checkered picnic blanket on the grass.

“Well, we’re at a park. See the Han river is right there,” Jungkook rolls his eyes and you swat his shoulder, “I-uh… Open the basket.”

You gasp, pushing Jungkook’s shoulder in disbelief when you see the assortment of food containers and two bottles of wine in the basket.

“You made this?” You murmur, “You did this for us?”

Your throat begins to close up and tears prick the back of your eyes, despite your watery smile. He’s so incredibly thoughtful and kind- everything you never thought you could have.

“I like that one the best,” You muse, swirling your glass of red wine (you can’t remember which one it is) in your hand.

“I hope you know which one that is, because I sure don’t,” Jungkook says.

“It’s the red one.”

“You don’t say.”

You laugh and lean against his shoulder. The people around you have begun to thin out as the sun had begun to go down. It’s a nice view of the river, but your favorite view is the one right next to you.

“Thank you,” You murmur, “I...I’m really happy and flattered you did this for me.” You stamp a kiss to his cheek quickly and lean further onto his shoulder. The silver hoops decorating his ears nearly tickle your head. He only wraps an arm around you and squeezes your waist. Jungkook looks at you, only to find you already looking at him. Your gaze flickers to his slightly parted lips and back to his deep eyes.

You close the gap and kiss him quickly. It’s chaste, only lasting a few seconds- you’re not used to kissing him like that out in public. Heat crawls up your cheeks, but you still grin at him.

“Want to go for a walk?” He murmurs into your hair. You nod and stand, feeling a little wobbly with all of the wine going straight to your head. Jungkook steadies you (because of course he does) with a hand on your back.

“Are you good to drive after?” You implore, folding up the picnic blanket, “Should I call Jin and Yuna to pick us up?”

“I’m good,” Jungkook says with a crooked smile, “I got us, baby. Let’s go put this in the car.”

You’ll always be safe with him, he wants to say. But he doesn’t, only opening the picnic basket for you to slip the boxes of food into. Jungkook gently nudges your shoulder and follows your lead to his car.

The sun is slowly dipping down, illuminating the sky in hues of pinks, purples, and oranges. You and Jungkook walk side by side along the river- you’re unable to keep your eyes off of the way the sky reflects in the water and Jungkook is unable to keep his eyes off of you.

Your hand brushes along his accidentally, the warmth of his fingers sending goosebumps up your arms. Giving yourself a pep talk, you slip your hand into his and he can’t keep the pleasant surprise off of his face.

Jungkook squeezes your hand every so often as you both quietly talk and walk, enjoying the light spring breeze.

Jungkook wants to learn every curve and soft sinew of your body- he wants to learn what gets you to sigh his name in that way, that way that causes a seed of possessiveness to plant itself in his belly. He desperately wants to learn what makes you tick, what you like.

For now, he’ll keep it slow. The slow, hot glide of his cock in your wetness is enough for now. The tight grip you have on his forearms, the bounce of your tits brushing against his chest is enough. You beg him for a kiss as your legs lock around his waist, pulling a deeper brush of his cock inside of you, and he’s happy to indulge you.

Jungkook swallows everything you give him. He had stilled inside you with the first push of his cock into your pussy-

He watches your face, looking for any signs of discomfort. You tell him to wait while your eyes are squeezed shut, holding onto his biceps tightly.

You’re so wet and warm for him. He wants to stay like this for as long as he can- the feeling of your pussy clenching around him (inadvertently or not) is addicting.

“Okay,” You mumble, “I’m okay. Be slow with me?”

“Yes,” Jungkook replies instantly, kissing your forehead, “Yes, baby.” He thinks you like slow, but he thinks you might like spicy, too.

You cum rather quickly on his cock with his voice low in your ear and his fingers tracing over your clit and your nipples. He holds back, biting his tongue and instead nips at your neck as your pussy pulses around him. You’re smiling at him, a little dazed and a little dopey, your fingers tugging his hair.

“Gonna cum for me, baby?” You murmur sweetly, your cheeks heating up, “You’re so good, your cock feels so good…”

Jungkook groans into your neck, his grip on your thighs tight as he tries to stop himself from ramming his cock into your pussy.

That’s for another day. Jungkook lifts his head, nudging your cheek with his nose and peers down at you. A thin layer of sweat coats your skin and Jungkook cradles your cheek protectively.

“Kiss me,” You demand softly, needily. He drops his head once more, capturing your lips with his and moaning into your mouth when you slip your tongue into his.

Jungkook loses himself in you, tracing your tattoos with his fingers as his rhythm sputters. Broken moans of your name spill into your lips as he cums into the condom when he stops his strokes.

“Holy shit,” Jungkook murmurs into your neck and you hum in agreement. He drops his weight onto you and you smile lazily, enjoying the feel of him all around you. He thinks your pussy is made for him- the velvety grip of your walls around him is dreamy. He needs a minute to regain his bearings, but he can see your eyes starting to flutter.

He’s already made you cum four times- or was it five? You’re deliciously tired. You groan in protest when he pulls out and pushes himself off of you with shaky legs to get up to clean the both of you up.

“Kook,” You complain softly, “Come back.”

You close your eyes for a minute and he’s in between your legs, cleaning you up and pulling a shirt over your head and sliding your arms through. “Figured you’d get cold,” Jungkook murmurs, his own bottom half covered with fresh boxers.

“Have some water,” He says, tipping the bottle of water towards your lips.

“Thanks,” You mutter, “Let’s nap. And then eat after.”

You’re already rolling closer to him, face pressed to his chest and hands loose around his waist.

Before he succumbs to sleep, Jungkook wonders if this is too much, too fast. But he doesn’t allow himself to go down that path- you both have spoken extensively about what you felt okay with and what you wanted from each other. Even if it might be early in this, it feels right and that’s something you both can agree on.

Sleep comes easily for both of you.

Diversity and inclusion in the workplace makes you scoff out loud and roll your eyes. You’ve only been here for five years, but you’ve seen how this plays out. While the concept itself might have western origins, the company is embracing the idea. But with workshops like this, people have their eyes open for the hour (or however long the workshop is) and don’t do the work outside of the workplace. It’s checking the box, in your opinion. Which is why you’re so reluctant to get involved with things like this.

Maybe you’re a cynic. Maybe it’s because you’ve been stonewalled at this company for so long. Maybe you should and could appreciate it more if the people around you would actually utilize the principles they preached about.

But the fact that your boss is leading today’s workshop makes you curious. What could your boss, the same boss who publicly ridicules you and blocks you from your own personal and professional development, have to say about a topic as pertinent as diversity and inclusion?

Your eyes are narrowed and sharp as you assess the conference room. Your boss is flipping through slides and speaking as if he knows anything and everything about the topic.

“...As a global company, we should be aware of the impact of our actions and words. And something for us to be proud of is the number of female executives at our company, we have some of the highest…”

You scoff out loud, drawing the surprised eyes of everyone in the room. You return their stares and ignore the way your heart speeds up at the unwarranted attention.

“Do you have something you want to say?” Your boss all but sneers at you and you double down on your icy gaze. You choose your next course of action a little recklessly, but you can’t bite your tongue. Not this time.

“You really wanna hear what I have to say?” You say, gripping your mug of coffee tightly, “We can’t talk about this without people acknowledging the way they continue to perpetuate toxic work environments- I mean, are you the best person to discuss this?”

A harsh, ruthless silence falls in the room and nearly chokes you. Anxiety crawls in your veins and suddenly you feel like throwing up. You leave quickly and quietly, but not before throwing another icy stare to everyone in the room.

Holy shit. You’ve definitely just lost your job, there’s no question about it. You can already hear the rumor mill. Your boss would be more than happy to let you go and cut his losses. What had you just done?

You make a beeline for Jin’s office. You don’t even know if he’s in a meeting or has something he’s working on but you don’t know where else to go. He tries to soothe you and calm you down, but you’re full on freaking out by this point-

“I’m gonna lose my job,” You say, your face in your hands, “What the fuck, I don’t know what came over me-”

He calls your name firmly, “Stop. I shouldn’t say this but… he deserved it. And you’re not the only person who has problems with him. You know that.”

“I’m the only one who embarrassed him like that! I’m gonna fucking lose this job, and then what? What am I going to do? I don’t want to go to HR-”

Jin stands in front of you and holds your upper arms steady, telling you to breathe with him. Your heart begins to slow and your vision clears a little.

“You know if it comes down to that, you have people to vouch for you,” Jin murmurs.

“Okay,” You say, a little lightheaded, “Okay.”

Jin hugs you, but he can’t quite stop the trembling that follows. “If I hear anything, I’ll let you know,” Jin promises, “In the meantime, you should leave early. Or go find Jungkook, and then leave early.”

You crack a small smile, “That’s hardly appropriate. Thanks, Seokjin.”

You leave the building after seeing Jungkook. He walks you to your car, holding your trembling hand discreetly and kisses your hair, telling you to be brave and that everything will be okay. And you want to believe him, you really do. But this pit in your stomach feels too familiar for you to ignore.

tags: @koo-zy

#jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook #jungkook smut #jungkook fluff

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 4 years

Text

In the Weeds

Ransom + ‘reader likes to garden and neighbor likes to watch’ as requested by @siren-kitten-his

Finally got this done and it’s just smut, y’all, dark and dirty smut.

Warnings: noncon, sabotage, Ransom being his asshole self. As usual, your consumption is your responsibility. If you read these warnings and proceed, that’s your decision and any asks on the matter will be summarily defeated. If you can read 2000 words, you can read a warning.

Anyways, enjoy this little drabbling and have a great day, boo bears.

For weeks you’d been coming to the large house hidden away behind the winding driveway, trees carefully lined its borders. Weeks and you had yet to met its owner. On your first day, instructions had been left in a letter beside a bottle of water. The list was typed out and terse. A roster of duties.

Every Sunday you drove up the carefully laid mosaic drive and lugged your bag with you, returning to your beat-up truck only to fetch the electric trimmers. Weeds, pruning, hedges, flowers… It was your typical work, the only difference was your still anonymous and unseen employer.

The same water bottle sat on the front step, the same list. You didn’t need to read it at this point. You began your work, your jeans soon filthy with soil and grass stains as you made your way around the exterior of the house. Then there were the bushes along the perimeter. That always took much longer.

You opted for a break before you went about the last half of the list. You sat on the step and drank from the glass bottle. You replaced the attached cork and stood, stretching as the sun reached its peak above you.

“The sunflowers are starting to droop,” The voice scared you and you spun in surprise to face the man who stood on the other side of the screen door. You hadn’t even heard it open. “My mother chose them, you see? I find them tacky. They stick out like a sore thumb.”

“Oh,” You blinked. He watched you dully as you set down the glass bottle. “I could… re-home them. As long as I can dig out the roots.”

“Burn ‘em for all I care,” He scoffed. His blue eyes looked you up and down. “You’re a lot more diligent than the last gardener.”

“Thank… you,” You said awkwardly.

He leaned his elbow against the door frame as he peered through the screen. His dark blond hair was combed back neatly, his broad shoulders stretched the cotton henley. He looked like any trust funder you’d met. “I should get back to work.”

“Mmhmm,” He nodded and disappeared.

You turned slowly and grabbed your bag of tools. You wanted to look back but didn’t as you crossed to the hedges along the walkway. You knelt and began your careful pruning. You inched down the bushes, snip, snip, snip. The sun beat down as you reached the end and stood.

“She stole,” You winced as you were once more frightened by the man. “Can’t help but wonder why considering how much I’m paying to have leaves cut.”

“I’m sorry she did that,” You squinted as the sun seared your eyes. “Um…”

“Ransom Drysdale,” He introduced himself. “I have your card. I know your name.”

“Well, I was just about to do the back. I just need to… um, get there.” You bent and tucked your shears into your bag and lifted it.

“Looks good, so far,” He said as he followed you from the other side of the hedge. “I can get you some more water.”

“I’m almost done,” You assured him. “But thank you.”

“Alright,” He stopped and you carried on.

You felt him watched you as you disappeared around the back of the house. As you set up, you fought to focus on the work. The rose bushes were always the most obstinate. You took out your pruners and set to detaching the dying buds and stray branches.

As you moved from the white petals to the reds, you sensed something. You glanced over. The man, Ransom, was sat in one of the lawn chairs on the patio outside the tall glass doors. He was far but not so far away that you couldn’t tell he watched you. Well, if his last gardener had sticky fingers, how could you blame him?

You finished up and looked around one last time. You buckled up your large bag and slid the folded paper out of the side pocket, running down the list just to make sure. As you stood, bag slung over your shoulder, you found that your employer had gone as swiftly as he’d appeared.

You hauled it back around the house. The water bottle was gone. You went to your truck and dumped your bag in the bed. You climbed in the front and turned the engine. It kicked up but as you shifted into reverse, then puttered and died. You tried again. Odd. You’d just had it in for an oil change and they said it was in good shape.

You got out and walked around the pick-up. You checked out every inch then opened the hood. You didn’t really know what you were looking for. A shadow came up behind you and two large hands settled on the truck’s nose, a pair of thick arms blocking you in.

“Problem?” Ransom’s warm breath tickled your scalp. You went rigid, unsure of what to do. You didn’t know what to do.

“No.” You said. “Probably just overheated.”

You pushed against his arm but he didn’t move. You grabbed the other which proved just as immovable. You turned around in the tight space between him and the truck.

“What are you doing?”

“Just having a look,” He said coolly. “You think it’s the battery?”

“I don’t know.” You tried to sidestep him again but he still wouldn’t move. “Let me go.”

“You know, at first, I watched you because I was bored. Then it became almost a hobby. Something to look forward to.” He leaned in and you could smell his cologne. “Then I thought about you. After. And you just kept popping up in my head.”

“I don’t know you.” You said firmly. “Get away from me so I can call a tow.”

“It’ll take them at least an hour to get out here.” He said. “What are you supposed to do while you wait?”

“Stop.” You grabbed his arm and pushed. He chuckled at your pathetic attempt to move him. “What do you want?”

“I’m sure you can guess.”

He reached up and grabbed the lip of the hood. His other hand went to your throat as he backed up just a little and drew you with him. He closed the hood with a bang and you flinched. You grasped his wrist and twisted. He barely seemed to notice as his fingers tightened.

He leaned in and his chiseled features turned malicious. He grabbed your shoulder and spun you to face the truck. He pushed you against the hood and you caught yourself on the hot metal. He crushed you with his body and his hot breath glossed over your head.

“I lied.” He nuzzled your head. “The last gardener quit. He hated the commute.”

“Get off.” You tried to elbow him and he grabbed the back of your head. He slammed it down onto the truck and held you there. “Ow, stop!”

“And on top of finding a new gardener, the bitch I called a girlfriend decided she needed to follow her dreams or whatever shallow shit those spoiled princesses believe these days.” He growled and pushed his crotch into your ass. “And then you show up. Sweet little flower girl. Hard worker… and for what? A beat up Ford and dirt under your nails.”

“Let me go!”

“You know I pay well to have the flowers watered, how much do you think I’d pay for… personal services?”

“You’re disgusting.” You hissed.

“Well,” He laughed. “I guess I don’t have to pay.”

He pulled on the back of your jeans as you wriggled against the hood, the metal seared your cheek. His arm snaked around you as he picked your fly open and pushed his hand down the front of your panties. You gasped as he kicked your feet apart and force his fingers between your legs.

“You like to get dirty, flower girl?” He muttered in your ear. “Hmm.” He rubbed his fingers along your folds. “I think that’s my answer.”

You closed your eyes. You were wet. Sweat, mostly, from the day in the sun, but more. Adrenaline, fear… He shoved a finger inside you and you squeaked. Your feet slipped on the stone work below.

“Please… stop,” You begged and he pushed another finger in.

“Weird how you don’t sound like you mean it,” He drew his fingers in and out as he pressed the heel of his hand to your clit. “How it feels…” He paused as you trembled. “Like you want it.”

“Ransom, Ransom…” You said his name. “Please. This isn’t--”

He filled you to his knuckles and you whimpered.

“Shhh,” He breathed. “This is a respectable neighbourhood… not that anyone can hear you.”

He slid his fingers out of you and left a slick trail along your pelvis as he pulled back. He ripped down your jeans from behind. His hand moved to your neck and he squeezed painfully. He wrenched your panties down and pinched your bare ass. You whined and kicked helplessly.

You pushed on the hood, trying to force him off. You only ended up with your ass pressed against him.

“Oh, I like that,” He stepped back and slapped your ass. “You really think you can win.”

“Please--”

He slapped you again. You swallowed your protests and he shifted behind you. The smooth whisper of a zipper followed and had you tensed against the truck. Your sweaty hands slipped over the metal.

He prodded you with his tip as he stepped closer. He bent his knees against your legs. He guided his dick along your cunt, poking around until he found your entrance. You inhaled sharply as he inched inside. Your walls clenched around him as he sank into. You were taken off your feet as he rammed into you entirely. You cried out and slapped the hood.

“Ow, stop, stop.” You exclaimed.

His hand left your neck as he grabbed your hips instead. He slammed you into the truck as he thrust into you harshly. You lifted your head as your back arched. Your toes fought to find traction on the ground as you whimpered and reached to try to pull yourself away from him. He easily rocked you back into him as he rutted into you.

Your nerves buzzed as he fucked you harder, the hem of his shirt brushed against your ass each time. You panted as the heat gathered along your spine and stormed through your core. You were so close and the thought repulsed you. Your disgust quickly flitted away as his grunts permeated the air around you.

Your eyes rolled back and you dropped your head back to the hood. You smothered your moans in your arm but your body betrayed you with a violent spasm. You came and he barely seemed to notice as he sped up.

He bent over you and pushed your legs together. Your walls grew even snugger around him and he groaned. He swore as he twitched and pulled out of you suddenly. He tugged on your jeans as he climaxed in a series of primal snarls. He released you and his shoes scraped against the stonework. He sighed over the metallic zip and you found your feet below you.

You turned, slowly. You looked down at your jeans, rolled below your thighs. Your panties were shiny with his cum as you stared at them dumbly. Your legs shook as your stomach turned.

“Pull those up, flower girl,” Ransom sneered. “It’s not professional to walk around with your ass out.”

You lifted your head and blindly grasped the waist of your jeans. You pulled them up and the wet fabric pressed against your cunt. You buttoned your fly as you watched him reach into his pocket. He pulled out a metal part and winked.

“Pretty sure I can just screw this back into place.” He smirked. “Next Sunday, same time.” He passed you lifted the hood. “I’ll leave the door unlocked.”

#dark!ransom drysdale x reader #dark ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale x reader #dark!ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale #dark ransom drysdale #knives out #drabble #fic #one shot #dark fic #dark!fic #request #au

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rodeoxqueen · 3 years

Note

Can u make hcs DMC boys x s/o who lost her memory after an accident in a battle? Like 'I don't remember your name but I remember I love you so much' ^3^)

Howdy Anonymous,

I am quite fond of when love surpasses all circumstances. I am even more fond of writing those moments; This is one of them.

Thank You For Requesting,

Rodeo

Dante

“Oh god oh fuck.”

He’s panicking internally and blaming himself for not protecting you. At least you’re not dead, but now you can’t even remember your own name.

Everyone feels so bad for Dante, seeing how his eyes lose their spark at the realization you don’t know who he is. You’re the love of his life, and he’s just lost you in a way that might even be worse than death.

He’s always by your side though. When you awaken and question why there is such a good looking man holding your hand.

Even when you have amnesia he’s a flirt.

“Do you remember me?”

“No, not at all.”

“Do you know my name?”

“No. I’m sorry.”

He sighs, rubbing his thumb along your knuckles. This was harder than he thought. Dante looks down at the ground, thinking of all the memories of you and him. His blue eyes almost well up seeing you next to him in bed, kissing his cheek and holding him in your arms. Is this all gone? Is he forced to see you have to start over and forget everything you’ve done together?

Suddenly, he feels your grip on his hand tighten. He looks up to your uncertain expression. There’s something in your pools of (eye color), a dim spark.

“What’s up, sweetness?” He asks.

“I-I don’t remember you.”

“Yeah, we’ve been over that.” He bites back calling you Finding Dory, knowing you might actually think that’s your name. He shuts up immediately when your other hand reaches over and cups his face.

“But..but I remember that I must have loved you very much.” A semblance of your old smile ghosts your face, and he almost sees you as you were before again.

Dante instinctively covers your hand with his and presses his grizzled cheek against your palm, the loving touch soothing his mind.

“I’ll always love you more, babe.”

Once you regain your memories, Dante will be more protective. If you never do, Dante will gladly walk the road to recovery with you, your love a constant despite the circumstances. Either way, he’ll never forget that moment of vulnerability between you two.

Vergil

He will be inconsolable if you lose your memories of him. It was already so hard for him to open up again and now he’s lost you.

You wake up confused and sometimes you see a white-haired man in blue reappearing and disappearing by the door. He will have a hard time seeing you gaze at him like a stranger. When you sleep, he sits nearby you and thinks of the times you used to have. Only the moon is the witness to his grief.

Dante and Nero ain’t having it.

“Come on, Verg. She needs you right now.”

“Dante, she doesn’t even know her own name. There’s nothing I can do.”

“Dad, don’t be a deadbeat with your own girlfriend/wife.”

“Please do not say that. It is already a very difficult situation for me.”

One day, while bedridden, you watch as the flirty middle-aged man and his punky but polite nephew drag the man in blue into the room and lock the door.

“Ah, I never got your name.” He sighs.

“Have you known yours?”

You say the unfamiliar name and his sorrowful gaze intensifies.

“I am Vergil.”

The two of you stay in silence.

“Did we know each other?” You asked. Vergil sat on the chair, hands on his lap. He seemed uncomfortable.

“We did.”

He thinks of all the times you would look at him with that loving and warm gaze. Nothing good in his life truly lasted, didn’t it?

You scooch to his side and he returns your eye contact. He stills when he sees a sense of recognition in you.

You hesitate at his cold eyes. But it seemed whoever you were before liked the chill. He seemed more withdrawn, less intimidating to you than he was trying to show the rest of the world. This man, this memory in flesh, seemed to mourn you.

“I’m sorry my lost memories gave you any grief.”

“It is not your fault what happened.”

Blurry memories flashed through your mind. All of blue, white, and of shared warmth. You grab his arm. Your words found their way into the air.

“You loved me, didn’t you?” He looks at you with half a smile. He shifts himself so he is facing you.

His fingers slowly tuck your stray strand of hair behind your ear.

“I did as I do now.”

“I think I do too.”

Vergil never leaves your side again. To see that your love is ingrained and stored in your heart and not your mind, gives him hope that perhaps you will never truly leave him. He protects you like a treasure and it doesn’t matter if your memories come back or not, he will love you forever.

“Oh, woe is me. I am made to fall apart but why does my Little Wanderer need to suffer?”

When he finds out you don’t remember him, he cries a few tears in his lonesome. His Little Wanderer has strayed too far and like Orpheus, he cradles your ghostly form and sobs for his love.

He will never leave your side as you rest, his cane against your bed.

Even his familiars are affected by this. Griffon has lost his witty playmate and Shadow her beloved giver of pets.

“Damn, Shakespeare. Shorty can’t remember jack shit.”

You sit, eyes blank as you admire the bird and the panther by your side.

The lanky and tattooed man who sits by you is very soft to you. You remember him mumbling poetic words to you as you half-slumbered, his fingers tracing your face.

Nico and Nero do their best to leave V alone, knowing he needs peace after what happened.

“Are they yours?” You gesture to Griffon and Shadow.

“They are. But they are also yours.” You scratch Shadow’s chin. V smiles. At least you have the muscle memory of knowing where your “darling little kitty cat princess” likes to be pet.

“Have we met before?” V nods.

“Little Wanderer, we have met and our roots intertwined.”

You are quiet at this statement. V offers his hand to you, your own joining his.

“Oh shit, Shadow. They’re having a moment. Let’s dip.” The bird leaves, riding the big cat out of the room, the intelligent feline’s tail closing the door on the way out.

“May I demonstrate?”

“...alright.”

Your hand is taken by him as he presses your embraced palm to his chest, his crying heart beating sadly under his palm. As your skin touches him, you feel his pulse speed up. Almost as if his heart begs to be felt under you.

The sensation recalls your own. Who you used to be would lay her cheek upon his chest in the rising sun’s company, the birdsong an encore to his lulling heart.

V lets out a small noise of startlement as you place his own palm above your breast, your own muscle thudding and joining the duet. Your face is slightly pink, eyes widened in shock of your shared affections for one another.

His green eyes light up with joy as he understands your silent words.

“Oh my beloved Eurydice, how you have yet to truly leave me.”

The two of you embrace, a constellation not yet smitten by the universe.

The lovers will not wane in their union, and they will defy all the stars to find each other again. V knows very well he will accept either path you take. Whether you remember who you were or not, you will always look at him the same.

#devil may cry #vergil sparda #vergil x reader #dante sparda #dmc imagines #devil may cry 5 #devil may cry imagines #dmc headcanons #dante x reader #v x reader #dmc5 v #vergil headcanons #dante headcanons

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just2bubbly · 3 years

Text

Cursed Souls

Masterlist

TLC Ship Week 2021!

*written for tlcshipweek2021- kaider for the prompt 'Cursed'

@kaiderforever

Summary:

"Thorne, Do you think I'm cursed?"

"What?"

"Uh- like do you think I'm cursed? that Cinder- s-she is-"

"Is suffering because of you?"

"You really love Cinder."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

...

Grief can make your mind think distressed thoughts, Kai with a haywire mind turns to Thorne for help- feeling overwhelmed just moments after the rebellion as he waits to hear news of Cinder.

A snippet of Kai alone with his thoughts as he waits outside the OT following the brutal injury of Cinder in Winter.

Ship: Kaider

Words: 2.5k

Genre: Angst, Hurt-Comfort

Prompt: 'Cursed'

*Sort-of canon-divergence.

Kai's Perspective:

Saying that he was anxious would be an understatement of his (let's assume long) lifetime. Everything around him was intense. After making sure that the Earthens were in a secure place, Kai followed by Torin had hastily returned to the Throne room. He could not focus on anything after Iko had told him that Cinder had gone to face Levana- alone.

Kai was praying to anyone who would listen- he prayed for Cinder's safety. Everything around him had been so rushed in the last few days- he had been high on adrenaline since the time he had helped Cress stick to the plan, coming back for crowning Levana as the Empress, to the sudden outburst of Lunars, the rebellion, him being captured and later escaping.

Kai was not sure how he remained on his own two feet walking through the pale halls of Artemisia Palace.

"Kaito, she shall be fine", Torin assured.

Kai was not going to buy it- how could Cinder be fine with a tyrant like Levana, who was likely trying to kill her?

He yelled at his own mind for letting Cinder go alone to confront Levana.

All of a sudden the sound of gunshots was heard, followed by a cry of pain making Kai look in horror at his advisor. He hoped it was anyone but Cinder. His heart was pumping loudly- at some inhuman speed and the rush of adrenaline forced him to walk faster than humanly possible. As the elegant and large doors of the throne room became visible, memories- horrors of incidents that would likely haunt him for the rest of his days flooded in Kai's mind.

Now was not the time to be sentimental- it was the time to be brave and help Cinder... if she was in a position to be helped.

The sight that was before his eyes stopped him in his tracks. Kai was dumbstruck at the sight of so much blood pooling in the throne room- the red a stark contrast to the pale marble floor and the real condition of the usually-disguised face of Levana- the face behind the glamour was enough to make him go stiff and be rooted to the spot.

However, Torin shook him out of his reverie to point out things- people. No, not just any people, his newly made friends.

He exhaled sharply when he saw Thorne, Scarlet and Wolf alive. He could not say the same when his eyes fell on Cress and Cinder. A sob escaped his shaking lips as Kai ordered Torin to call for doctors.

As he ran towards her with a thumping heart, he hoped he would not collapse at the sight of Cinder's misery.

A pool of dark red blood had surrounded her, her bosom had a knife- it did not take much to conclude that Levana had stabbed Cinder. His cheeks were damp with moisture as he huddled next to her- not sure what to do. Cinder coughed blood, her face gone pale because of the loss of so much blood. She could not cry but the worried lines along her forehead full with beads of sweat as she nibbled on her lower lip to think of anything but the wound- to avoid screaming with agony were enough to speak about her misery.

"Cinder," he cried through trembling lips.

"Kai, help Cress first. I won't-" she said through irregular words. Even in death, Cinder thought about saving others above herself.

"Shh, she is going to be fine. You're going to be fine." He said with questionable certainty. He had never known any person who had been stabbed to know how fine the after-effects were. Yet he refused to lose hope.

"Kai," she said smiling a bit sarcastically. As if both of them knew that they were lying to each other- to console, to convince.

"Don't speak I'm here- help is coming. Try to breathe. You're going to be fine." He said trying to assure him more than her.

"No- listen, Kai, look at me I might not have enough-" she hacked blood mid-sentence. Her stuttering words were cut short due to her current state. However, Kai very well knew what she was to say.

"All my ears to you, Cinder." He smiled at her, the same cheeky smile he had shown her at the garage, where they had met for the first time.

"Don't mourn for me Kai," she said. "-And I know I will not make it. My time as the revolutionary is over. I was not meant to be Queen or Princess. I trust you to do what you can for everyone," she muttered through ragged breaths, stopping from time to time to inhale sharply.

Kai would mourn for her death even if she prohibited it, even if it was forbidden. His throat ached as he tried to form sentences, probably not the last one she would hear.

"Cinder you are going to live through it. You will live long enough to rule yourself and do what you can for Luna." He said as his voice threatened to quiver, to cry out loud. He knew she was slipping away from him, as her glazed eyes rolled at the back of her head, eyes that would spontaneously shake looking at the ceiling. He would not lose her- hadn't he suffered enough grief to last a lifetime?

She closed her eyes and as calm resided over her features, Kai thought he had lost her. He could not hold it anymore, he cried not giving a damn- the Emperor of EC was crying for his beloved who was in his lap. Dying.

"No, Kai. I am a lowly mechanic. The Emperor should not cry for someone like me- Be h-happy Kai," she said with her eyes closed. It felt like she could bear to gaze into his eyes.

Kai begged for a miracle. How he wished that he would wake up and all this would just be a bad dream. He hoped that Cinder would live to see that she was never just a lowly mechanic. How she was always more than someone to him!

She cleared her mouth to say something instead a sharp breath was inhaled. Her lips now red with her own blood.

"You were the happy ending to my tragic life, Kai. I hope you remember that," She murmured.

He did not know if it was her or fragments of his own imagination speaking to him. He watched over as the others raised her and lay her across a stretcher. She was taken out to someplace where Kai followed blindly. They argued over something with Torin in the corner as he kept losing his mind- little by little.

He wanted to tell her, wanted to say them till she believed it.

"His ending without her would no longer be happy."

Still, he could not mutter any words as he choked on his own sobs. he was not brave enough to think that Cinder was dying inside. His haywire mind failing to register the happenings around him.

Torin appeared beside him and held him tight, unknowingly muttering soothing words- not knowing how to comfort the grieving Emperor. He stood outside white doors while Cinder lay inside, he cried his heart out on Torin's shoulder having had no clue if she was alive or not. He refused to listen to anything, he refused to talk- to ask about her state.

His mind played back the whole scenario over and over trying to make sense of his messed-up present.

Selene had been a mystery to him, she was a lost princess born out of his imagination, Torin used to describe it as a lost cause once. When he gave up on her, Cinder walked into his life. When the matter was revealed, he had hope. Selene and Cinder- just different names had been his hope for a long time, his ray of hope was struggling indoors. She was far away from him, from the world. He clutched on tightly to Torin trying to make sense of his falling apart life.

"T-Torin, is she a-a- okay?" he inquired.

"She will be."

"You think so?"

"Yes, Kai. She is a strong woman."

He remained silent for a long time- staring at the doors that would not allow him to enter. Trying to avoid thinking about the 'what-ifs'.

He did not move from his position for the entire day, keeping himself rooted to the seat before the door, with Torin beside him.

"You killed her, Kai. You are responsible for her fate... if not for you she would have never been drawn into this mess-"

"-She would not be dying right now"

"How selfish of you to use her for your own gain!?"

"She was just a poor girl aching to be loved- and look what you did!"

"You cursed her"

"'She is dead because of YOU"

He opened his eyes- panting for breath. All the voices sounded like Levana... she was dead right? He had never bothered to check if she was alive or dead, as he was in the haste due to Cinder's state- could she have survived?

Realizing he was just hyperventilating, it was a nightmare- nothing about it should trouble Kai into thinking that the tyrannical Queen was alive. He might have dozed off, sitting in the medical chamber of the palace, he thought trying to make his mind stray away from the loud thoughts of his mind.

'Was he cursed?'

Kai did not have many people in his life that he would have claimed to love, but the ones he did were either dead or dying.

'He had loved his parents, hadn't he? And where were they now?', He thought bitterly.

They hadn't even be buried like royals ought to, their goods burnt down to prevent the spreading of the disease to Kai or others. Their bodies were cremated in an incinerator as a precaution. Kai could not even be near them, being asked to see the whole ordeal from far away for his own safety. He had lost both of them to Leutomosis.

He loved Cinder and there she was a few metres away from him, perhaps already gone on another journey beyond life.

Maybe he was a cursed person, otherwise, why would all his loved ones die? Was he not capable of love? Could he not love anyone without having to lose them? And the ones he loved would all wither and die, while he watched them from far away?

Or was she the cursed one?

The girl who could not be loved, the one who would have a near-death experience, every time someone tried loving her. Cinder and Kai- were they two cursed souls?

Didn't she say, 'You were the happy ending to my tragic life.' and hadn't he thought, 'His ending without her would no longer be happy'?

Did she think he was responsible for her tragic life- her death? Hadn't she been an outcast for a major part of her life thanks to Kai, who failed to realize the sorrow of the cyborgs living in his own nation?

Were they just going to be each other's broken, sorrowful endings?

Not able to cope with his overwhelming thoughts, he looked around for Torin, only to find him nowhere.

He gawked at Thorne, who sat adjoining him and asked, "Thorne, Do you think I'm cursed?"

Thorne was confused, to say the least, maybe he was being too vague so he briefed, "Uh- like do you think I'm cursed? that Cinder- s-she is-"

"Is suffering because of you?" he provided, as Kai failed to continue. He nodded slightly, confirming that he was thinking the same thing.

Much to his surprise, Thorne smiled, not the flirty smile that usually did but a genuine smiled that reached his eyes and said, "You really love Cinder."

Taken aback by his remark he asked, "What's that supposed to mean?"

"You are so alike, I can only imagine if the roles were reversed she would be here thinking the same thing."

"You think so?"

"I know so"

"What makes you so confident?"

"You had no idea how tensed Cinder was when you decided to marry Levana to prevent the wolf-hybrid soldiers from doing more damage. She never said it but she thought that she was responsible for all the mess created in your life."

"Okay," he replied, not knowing what else to say.

"Kai, what makes you think you are cursed anyways?"

"It's just- you know, all the people that I have cared about are dead and I do care about Cinder and she is inside fighting to stay alive- I just think I'm cursed, not capable of loving people," he explained.

Kai, would not admit it but saying it aloud made it seem foolish. Thorne would likely laugh at him for feeling he was 'cursed'- like was he even thinking through before popping the question to Thorne.

"Really Kai, sometimes I wonder the future of your country if you happen to be sentimental- how did we get two so feeble-minded monarchs to look after us?!" He asked, dramatically- can always rely on Thorne to disguise his sorrow with charm.

Kai rolled his eyes thinking to himself, 'why did he bother in the first place?' and looked away.

A sigh escaped him and he stated, "You are not cursed, Kai."

Now Thorne did have his attention, it might have been the first sincere thing he said after Cress was taken in OT. Kai realized how he was not the only one waiting for some news outside the medical chamber, not the only one who was afraid.

"You care about your advisor, umm what's his name?"

"Torin," Kai provided.

"Yeah Torin- you care about him, probably look up to him as well and he is neither dead nor trying hard to stay alive. You care about your people and I don't think all of them are dead right now, now are they?"

"No, they are not," he said even though it was a rhetorical question.

"I'm just afraid," he admitted after a long time to which Thorne honestly replied, "Me as well."

He looked at Thorne, trying to understand his grief- if Cress did not make it, Thorne would not be able to live with the guilt- knowing very well that he was responsible for her loss, that if not for him stabbing her in the stomach she would be alive.

"They would make it, right?" he asked, terrified of what Thorne would say.

He did not reply just pressed his lips in a thin line and looked before him. None of them was capable enough to answer it. So, Kai looked ahead as well and prayed because that's what all he could do. Pray.

"Kai stop thinking about bullshit things like being cursed."

Kai nodded, pointing out that he was listening and likely not going to think about how he might be cursed.

He thought before saying it aloud, rolling the words over and over before finally saying them.

"You are really a nice guy, Thorne. No wonder Cress really likes you."

A/N: I had promised I had come up with angst, and see here I am- keeping my promise to you guys.

I know I have knocked a lot of medical facts, I know she should be unconscious within seconds but I just choose to overlook it for my plot. I wanted some deep farewell/ goodbye shit before Cinder becomes unconscious (builds up the angst you know).

I wanted to this idea for a long time now, Cinder's almost-death through Kai's POV. This fic was likely going to have a different ending than one the it has now- I was just going to live the ending in grey area but I had to change it to keep up with the prompt 'Cursed' for ship week. Don't blame me writing angst, I am just writing ship week prompts- and apparently all of them happen to be angst!

Tell me what's on your mind after reading it!

Votes and comments are always appreciated.

Thanks for reading!

Taglist: @cinderswrench @gingerale2017 @linhcinder686 @shellyseashell @ladyvesuvia @shelbylmkaider @levanariddlebackup @cindersassasin @kaider-is-my-otp (Tell me if you wanna be added/removed)

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the-avengers-ate-my-tongue · 4 years

Text

Scars (Smut)

Scars

Summary: You hadn't seen Will ever since the day he left you to chase Hannibal in Florence, finding out after a while that he got married to someone else. But with the murders of the tooth fairy, Jack asked him to come back to help, and he couldn't stay away anymore, showing up for a visit. Will the old scars of your heart burst open in new wounds or heal completely?

Pairing: Will Graham x reader

Warnings: SMUT, angst, swearing, spoilers from season 3.

Word count: 3.381

A/n: this is the first smut I write in English, it's not my first language, so I hope it's alright. Any mistakes or anything, just let me know. This is another one with my boi Will, I just love him so much AAAAAA

As I read The Wuthering Heights for the hundredth time sitting in the living room, I heard someone ring the doorbell. I sighed, staring at the clock. It was still early. The person I was expecting would just come in, after all, Alana was a close friend and she knew she was allowed to do so. I raised an eyebrow. I wasn't expecting anybody else.

My dog, Sally, started to bark thunderously, sniffing under the door. I closed the book lethargicly, rolling my eyes as I got up the couch in a lazy mood, walking to the door and opening without asking who was outside, realizing perhaps too soon it was a mistake.

Will Graham stared at me, a light smile in his handsome face that didn't reach his eyes. I felt like something was twitching my stomach, and probably turned albescent. I hadn't seen him in over three years. Alana warned me he was back in town to work on the tooth fairy's case, but I didn't think he would stop by for a visit. Not after so long.

"Good to see you, Y/n." He tried, obtaining no response of mine. "I… I was just around the neighborhood and I wanted to see you. It's been a while."

"Who gave you my address?" I retorted, probably sounding more hostile than I intended. He stepped back, scratching the back of his neck, probably already regretting the impulsive idea.

"Jack."

"Of course he did. What else did he tell you?"

"Was there anything else he should've told me?" I searched his face for any sign of emotions, but didn't get anything that could tell me what he was feeling. The old Will was someone I could always read, no matter what. After Hannibal came along, he just started to show less and less emotions, till his face became a cold mask, his deep eyes empty, opaque. I missed the sweet, caring Will.

I was just standing there, silent. Sally found some space between my legs and managed to get out the house, launching at Will, wagging her tail and trying to get close enough of his ears so she could lick them. Will laughed lightly, crouching down to pet her.

"Who's this?" He asked, scratching behind her ears. I crossed my arms, I gave everything to that dog, undying love, a bed, high quality food, and now she backstabs me.

"That's Sally. She's a stray I took in one year and a half ago. Sally, sweetheart, come inside." I whistled once and she obeyed, running through my legs again. I sighed, stepping away from the door so he could come in. Maybe he wouldn't stay for long if I just let him in. He hesitated, but entered, passing through me. I could smell the air as he passed, he still used the same aftershave. That hurt even more, and I could feel my eyes watering a little. Why did he have to come? Why was he here? What does he want?

I tried to hide it, opening the kitchen door so Sally could play in the backyard, then walking to the sideboard where I kept whisky.

"Would you like some?" I inquired, still not feeling safe enough to face him. "I'm pouring myself one."

"Sure. Please. Neat." He replied, and I could feel his eyes on me, watching every single movement I made. That made my hands tremble a bit, and I cursed in a whisper when I spilled a little bit of the drink. So fucking clumsy.

I finally faced him when I felt my eyes get dryer, smiling lightly as I gave him the glass of whisky, neat. Our fingers touched a bit and I sat beside him, albeit a little far, taking a long sip of my glass. We stayed like that for a few minutes, two strangers that used to know each other, love each other. My eyes traveled through his face and I distinguished some new scars, probably from the great encounter with Hannibal Lecter and Mason Verger a few years ago. I remembered the way I used to kiss every single scar he had, I loved every part of Will, his scars were part of his story, part of who he was.

He lowered his eyes for a moment, smiling as he saw the book standing on the coffee table.

"Is it still your favorite? Wuthering Heights." He grabbed the book, opening the first page. There was the name I didn't use anymore. Y/n Graham. He gave me that edition as a Christmas gift a long time ago, and I couldn't get rid of it, fantasizing that after such a long time, I could still feel Will's scent in it.

"Undoubtedly. Every time I read it it's like the first. Except maybe now it's even more bitter." I avoided facing him, staring at the book, suddenly feeling pretty silly. He didn't ask. He knew why.

"I suppose Heathcliff's still your favorite character."

"Now more than even, guess I finally understand his suffering." I regretted sounding so harsh, but it was said now. Will clenched his jaw.

"So you're saying I'm your Catherine?"

"I don't know. Am I?" I teased, hugging my body protectively. "Why are you here, Will? Why did you have to come? To torment me? You left three years ago after I begged you to stay, you just had to go after Hannibal, pursue your hunt. I allowed you to go, but I couldn't be there when you returned. I didn't even know you would return alive or if I would see a miserable Jack Crawford knocking on my door with grief in his face. I wouldn't bear it. So I left, but I kept expecting you to come find me if you ever got back. Then, Hannibal was finally arrested. I thought it was finally over, but you never came. You left again, and a while later I heard…"

My eyes traveled through his hands and I saw it. The wedding ring. That hurt so much I finally felt tears wetting my face, and dismissed them quickly with one hand.

"So it is true. You did get married." My voice sounded venomous, sharp as a knife. "Lucky girl. We didn't even get to that stage. Engagement was the maximum."

He was silent, allowing me to vent. As I haven't done that a lot with Alana already. His eyes were finally wet, finally some emotion on his face. That handsome face. That face I would never get tired of. I wanted to kiss them away, hold him and tell him everything would be okay, but it wouldn't. That teacup would never gather itself up again. We were two broken souls.

"I thought you wouldn't want me anymore. I wasn't the man you once met, the man you fell for, I was no longer good for you, if I ever have been. Hannibal changed me in ways you could never understand, ways even I don't understand."

"Hannibal changed all of us. Like a poison ivy that found its way into our cores and grew roots there. I can still feel his damage inside me, like… A cancer. It spreads. It tastes like metal at the tip of my tongue. I saw his face in my dreams for a very long time after you left. I still see him sometimes, not necessarily in my dreams…" I stopped talking as he grabbed my hand, caressing the palm with his thumb. I realized how much I missed his hands. They were a little rough due to how much he worked with them, but it never bothered me. It was ridiculous how much he could still affect me with a single touch, a look.

"I wanted to start over. Leave everything behind. I wanted to… Flee from that darkness that nested me. But it followed me, as it does wherever I go. I wanted someone pure, so it could contain it, or even diminish it. But you, Y/n… You never left my mind. I could never suppress you." He raised his hand, touching my cheek with cold, pale fingers. That touch made me close my eyes, his voice working like a balsam inside of me. I sighed, totally giving in.

Will got closer, his lips touching mine with such delicacy. I touched his hair, grabbing some on the back of his neck, pulling it lightly. That made him release a low groan, as the kiss started to get deeper. I moved my body, wanting to stay as close to him as the laws of physics allowed, and when I felt his tongue touch mine, fireworks eclode from my chest, my heart beating as fast as a hummingbird's.

I still loved him, of course I did. I never stopped. All the bitterness he left with his departure started to boil on my chest, becoming something else, something I couldn't figure out yet. His lips moved from mine to my neck, and I moaned a little louder, sinking my nails on his shoulders. One of his hands moved to my thigh and I allowed myself to lie down on the couch, pulling him with me. He lifted my leg and I embraced his waist with them, feelings mixtured inside my chest. That was wrong, he was a married man now. He had a wife waiting for him back home.

But, for a moment while he stared at me, our foreheads glued together, I saw my Will in his eyes. I saw the Will I first met, the socially awkward man Alana introduced me years ago and couldn't even stare me in the eyes, the kind, caring man I once knew. One single tear fell from his eye, and I knew he was probably conflicted as well. I kissed it away, kissing his lips again, a deep, slow kiss that made my insides chiver. I needed him so much. Even if it was just one time. Just for today. I needed that kind of closure.

I unbottoned his shirt, sinking my fingers into the skin of his biceps. He threw it on the floor, going for my clothes, and I thanked myself mentally for a moment for wearing a dress. He'd seen it before, he'd taken it off many times. He lifted the piece of clothing above my head and I threw it away gladly, kissing his neck while opening his pants. He kicked off his shoes, doing the same with the pants and underwear as I took off my bra. He took a while to stare at my body, his pupils so dilated with lust his eyes were almost completely black.

"No one looks at me the way you do." I said, noticing I haven't heard that tone in my voice for a very long time.

He pulled my panties off and rested his hips on mine, shutting his eyes as he slipped slowly inside of me. I let out a low gasp, trying to stabilize my breathing. Will hid his face on my neck and I could feel his hot breathing and the light scratches of his beard. Still slowly, he started to move inside me, thrusting back and forth. I bit my bottom lip as I tried to suppress a groan, and one of his hands grabbed my breast, his thumb stimulating the nipple. Will knew all my "buttons". Where to push, where to hold, so I could melt in his hands.

He started to thrust faster and faster, and I could feel the familiar feeling growing at the bottom of my stomach. A few more minutes and I lifted my head up, shutting my eyes as the pleasure started to grow.

"No." Will said almost in a whisper, pulling my chin down. "Let me see your face. I need it."

I stared at him while we both climaxed, a loud cry leaving my lips and Will's almost louder groan echoing through my ears. He dropped his body on mine, both of us covered in sweat and bodily fluids. We stayed that way until we could breathe normally again, his head on my chest and my fingers playing with his hair.

I wanted to say so many things. How much I loved him. How much I wanted him to stay. How much I've missed him. But he knew. He always knew. After that, we showered together to get rid of the sweat, and even then we couldn't stay away from each other. He hugged me while the water washed our body, kissing sometimes my lips, sometimes my forehead, my neck, my shoulder. I kissed every single one of his scars, as I used to do. I thought I'd seen tears on his face, but it might have been the water pouring from the shower.

After we finished the shower, he got dressed and I put on a robe, my hair wetting the silk. Will took my face in his hands, kissing my lips with tenderness. I wanted to ask him to stay. He knew that. I wanted him to leave before I made a fool of myself.

He was still holding my face when the door suddenly opened and I pushed him away quickly.

Alana entered, looking from Will to me, and I knew I would get scolded later for that. She noticed, always cunning.

"Well, just look what the cat dragged in." She said with sarcasm, the door still open. "Hi, Will. Long time no see."

"Alana." He said, seeming surprised. She didn't have time to answer, though. Her son, Morgan, entered the house accompanied by my little world.

"Mommy!" The dark haired child ran to me, bringing a smile to my face as I crouched down to hug him.

"My beautiful boy! Did you have fun at the zoo?" I asked, forgetting about Will's presence for a while. "I hope he wasn't too much trouble, Alana. Henry, did you behave?"

"Mommy, we saw a lion! He roared, and then we saw the giraffes, and the tiger…"

"Look at you dodging my question! Very canny." I laughed, hugging him again.

"He always behaves, you know that. He's a good kid." Alana answered, but she wasn't looking at me. She was staring directly at Will.

I looked at him. His eyes were on Henry, he seemed shocked, astonished.

"I'll be on my way, then. I'll call you later." She said almost like a threat, making me smile.

"Okay. Bye, Morgan. Send my regards to Margot, Alana, and come to dinner at the end of the week."

"Will do. See you around, Will." She closed the door behind her, leaving me with the two people I loved the most.

"Henry, this is Will. He's an old friend of mommy's. Won't you say hello?" I brought him closer to Will, and he got down on his knees, his eyes wet.

"Hi, Henry." He greeted, smiling with joy. Real joy. I smiled back, caressing Henry's hair. "It's nice meeting you."

"Hi." He replied with shyness, hiding behind my body. That made me laugh lightly.

"Baby, why don't you go upstairs and draw a picture of that lion you saw? How about that?" I asked him, kissing the top of his head.

"Okay, mommy." He started to climb up the stairs as Will still stared at him, seeming amazed.

"Is he… Is he…" Will tried to formulate his words, emotion breaking his voice.

"Yes. He's yours. Not difficult to notice, right? He looks just like you." I replied, wiping the tears away. "I found out I was pregnant a few days after you left. When you came back and Hannibal was arrested, I wanted to tell you, but I didn't want you to stick with me just because of the baby, so I just… Didn't. He was about a year old when I found out you got married. Alana is his godmother, she helped me so much. She and Margot. He's just a little younger than their son, Morgan, they're best friends. Henry's very smart. He's a joyful child. He's kind, caring to others. He reminds me of you all the time. He's my biggest accomplishment."

Will's face was blushed from crying, but he smiled through the tears, cleaning his face with the sleeve of his shirt.

"Mommy!" Henry called from the top of the stairs, crayons on his hands. "Can I show Hannibal the drawing?"

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. I grimaced, feeling Will's gaze on me. He wasn't supposed to find out that way, I didn't even have the time to tell him slowly so I could try to explain what made no sense.

"Ahn… Sure, honey. Sure. If you want. Now go to your room for a bit, okay? Mommy will see you in a minute, and then you can show me the drawing." I waited until he entered the room, hearing the door shut. I turned myself to Will.

"Did I hear it right? Hannibal?" Will raised his voice a little and I gestured him to keep his voice down. "Hannibal has seen the kid? You're taking him to see Hannibal?"

"I know how it sounds, just let me explain…" I asked, noticing the change in his eyes. They were once again cold, but sharp. He was angry.

"How do you explain this? Y/n? Have you lost your mind?"

"Yes! Yes, I fucking have! I lost my mind when you left, goddamnit!" I screamed, covering my mouth, hoping Henry would not come out of his bedroom. "Hannibal was the last link I had with you. So I sought comfort with the only one who would understand what was like to lose you. Because no one fucking did. Even Alana couldn't help me. So yes, I turned to Hannibal. Because he knows what's like to love you, to ache for you. And you don't get to judge me for that."

Will's eyes were wide, like he couldn't believe what I was saying.

"Besides…" I sniffed, rubbing my face with my hands "Hannibal cares for him. I know it. And Henry just adores him, Will, you should see…"

"My God, listen to what you're saying, Y/n! Listen to yourself!" He grabbed my face with his hands a little roughly, making me hold his wrists. "He's a killer. He's a cold killer. Can't you see how dangerous it is?"

"Well, we're all fucking killers!" I pushed him away, breathing hard. "Or have you forgotten about it? The night we killed Randall Tier? You really think that wouldn't stain me? Or maybe you do, and that's why you married another woman, with all her purity, because you couldn't bear to see how much you and Hannibal have broken me!"

He kept staring at me with that look in his eyes, the cold, sharp look that made me shiver. For a moment, I felt the danger of him trying to take my kid away. Would he even consider that? No. No one would take my child away from me. He was mine.

"This was a bad idea, I should've never allowed you to come inside. Please, leave." I asked, pointing to the door.

He stayed put.

"Will, you better leave. Now. I'm warning you." I stepped away from him, but he pulled me closer, hugging me tightly. I hid my face in his chest, sobbing, hitting him weakly on the shoulders with my fists. "Just go, please. Just go."

"We'll figure it out. Everything will be fine." He kissed me for the last time, letting me go. I knew he would be back. He stared at me once more, and finally left, closing the door behind me.

"Mommy, why are you crying?" I heard Henry's voice and turned to look at him coming down the stairs, kneeling to hug him. "Please mommy, don't cry!"

"It's okay, baby. Mommy is fine. Everything will be okay. How about a nice bath before we go see Hannibal, uh? Let's go."

"With bubbles?" He asked, clapping in joy. I smiled back to him, caressing his hair.

"With bubbles. Lots of bubbles." I kissed the top of his head and rushed him to the bathroom, an uneasy feeling pumping on my chest. I knew that wouldn't be the last time I saw Will. He would be back. Yes, he would.

#hannibal #hugh dancy #mads mikkelsen #will graham #will graham headcanon #will graham imagine #hannibal imagine #will graham x reader #alana bloom #alana bloom imagine

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renegadewangs · 3 years

Text

Van Zieks - the Examination, part 2

Warnings: SPOILERS for The Great Ace Attorney: Chronicles. Additional warning for racist sentiments uttered by fictional characters (and screencaps to show these sentiments).

Disclaimer: (see Part 1 for the more detailed disclaimer.) - These posts are not meant to be taken as fact. Everything I'm outlining stems from my own views and experiences. If you believe that I've missed or misinterpreted something, please let me know so I can edit the post accordingly. -The purpose of these posts is an analysis, nothing more. Please do not come into these posts expecting me to either defend Barok van Zieks from haters, nor expecting me to encourage the hatred. - I'm using the Western release of The Great Ace Attorney Chronicles for these posts, but may refer to the original Japanese dialogue of Dai Gyakuten Saiban if needed to compare what's said. This also means I’m using the localized names and localized romanization of the names to stay consistent. -It doesn't matter one bit to me whether you like Barok van Zieks or dislike him. However, I will ask that everyone who comments refrains from attacking real, actual people.

It’s time to take a close look at Episode 3, The Runaway Room!

Episode 3: The Runaway Room.

We're skipping the first two cases, as they have no relevance to Barok van Zieks, and starting off here.

So Ryu is tossed into the deep. The Lord Chief Justice tells him that he’s basically the defendant’s only hope; if he doesn’t at least try to fight in court, McGilded will lose the trial and die for sure. (HAH… Good one, Stronghart.) So Ryu falls for this would-be motivational speech and heads for the courthouse where he finds out why McGilded doesn’t have a defense attorney to begin with; it’s because of the prosecution. No one dares to go up against Lord Barok van Zieks, also known as the Reaper of the Old Bailey, because all who he prosecutes are damned. This should sound familiar to anyone who’s played an Ace Attorney game before. ‘The prosecution has never been defeated before’ is the implication, which would initially lead us to believe Van Zieks is another one of those prodigies. Sure enough, Susato points out he must be very talented, to which McGilded replies that Van Zieks is not talented, rather, he’s cursed. This sets the mood even further. With words like “Reaper” and “curse” being tossed around, we’re sooner reminded of a prosecutor like Simon Blackquill, who was a convicted murderer wielding psychological manipulation techniques. Either way, with the grim atmosphere set, Ryu is ushered into the courtroom before he can ask any more questions.

As a sidenote, McGilded really scored some negative points with this remark:

Feels a bit softened compared to how fan translations tackled that line, but a nasty jab all the same.

So anyway, entering the courtroom we get our first look at Van Zieks and if the foreshadowing in the Defendant Antechamber wasn’t already bad enough, he honors his eerie reputation.

So far, he’s meeting the requirements then. He’s intimidating and as a wealthy white man, he’s perfectly juxtaposed to Ryu, the rookie from another country. Meanwhile, the first micro-aggression of this trial is actually uttered by the judge:

Which also makes narrative sense. Ryu’s more practical goal isn’t to win the prosecution’s trust. Heck, he could get through any trial just fine with Van Zieks’s dislike. No, what he needs is to win over the judge and the members of the jury. For them to also hold prejudice but put that aside in order to side with the truth is another important end-game here. So let’s continue. Van Zieks also has something to say here:

Initially, the remark about Ryu’s eyes might read as a typical racist jab towards someone from the East, but he is in fact referring to the way Ryu’s eyes are ‘swimming’ when he’s nervous, as evidenced by the next lines. “They shroud your fear, your doubt, your trepidation… They run wild, clinging to some phantom notion of courage.” Van Zieks is saying that while Ryu puts up a brave front, his swimming eyes betray just how nervous and unsure of his cause he really is. So really, he’s targeting the fact that Ryu is new to the courts. He did, however, make a point of tossing the word “Nipponese” in there when he didn’t need to, drawing attention to Ryu’s race in a derogatory fashion.

After the jurors are introduced, something else of interest happens. The judge points out that Van Zieks hasn’t been seen in the courtroom in a number of years. The judge had assumed that Van Zieks had renounced his fame, to which he replies with the following:

This is a very telling line. We learn several things. Firstly, Van Zieks had retired, and secondly, he doesn’t seem to think too highly of his title of Reaper. If he did, he would have gloated. To describe his reputation as infamy implies negative associations with this ‘curse’ that McGilded spoke of. Putting these two things together, one might conclude he retired because of this curse. When asked why he’s returned to the courts, he says that he’ll leave that to the judge’s imagination. So there’s hints of a backstory already being tossed in before the trial’s even properly kicked off.

Which it does now. So the opening statement happens as always and witnesses are brought in, but once it’s done Ryu interjects to say that he doesn’t understand the circumstances. ‘How could the witnesses have seen the inside of a moving carriage’? It shocks the entire courtroom and Van Zieks is the one to speak:

“-But you’re here in London yourself. Are you really so ignorant about our omnibuses? Tell me, my Nipponese friend… Have you even travelled in an omnibus?”

I have to be honest, I struggled to pinpoint just how I felt about these remarks. Sure, I can overanalyze this, looking at how the words “I’d read-” imply he doesn’t know the following sentiment to be true and therefore doesn’t feel confident enough to say something like “I knew-”... But it doesn’t change that he’s being scummy here. In a roundabout way, he’s still saying Japan is far less civilised than Britain and that Ryu is extra ignorant for not knowing about omnibuses when he’s in London. So basically, he gets scumbag points for this. But then there’s…:

Which is just a basic jab at Ryu’s intelligence. It’s the sort of remark we’d get from every single prosecutor. I think even Klavier would say this sort of line with a smile on his face.

But definitely more scumbag points here, because this was a direct attack in more ways than one. Particularly the word “stray” was uncalled for. CEO of Racism, indeed. Something very interesting happens when the knife gets pulled into the story halfway into the first cross-examination, though. When Ryu asks about it, Van Zieks replies with this:

He’s… actually being civil? (I doublechecked with Scarlet Study, and they are in agreement on the timid nature of this line, translating “yes, Counsel” as “Quite so”.) Instead, Van Zieks turns his attention to the fact that there’s an M on the sheath, directing all his offensive attitude towards McGilded. It gets even more curious when the last juror refuses to cast a guilty verdict, instead talking about what a good man she believes McGilded to be. Van Zieks says:

So he’s not only frustrated with McGilded now, he’s frustrated with the people of London for not knowing what sort of person McGilded really is. Van Zieks reveals he’s a dirty money lender who gained his fortune through corrupt means. He even takes the time to inform Ryu of this with the words “Your client is a shylock, sir!” Edit: I feel a need to address this: shylock is a word with antisemitic roots. It originally came from a Shakespeare play involving a very bad stereotype. It later evolved to have a more broad meaning basically synonymous to loan shark and I think that’s the context the localization means to use it in. There’s absolutely no indication of McGilded’s religious beliefs and even if there were, I highly doubt the localization would use that sort of slur. Still, it’s a very unfortunate choice of words and is sure to accidentally sour Van Zieks even more with some players.

With that, the last juror votes, the scale tips towards Guilty and Van Zieks assumes the trial to be over. He thanks the jurors for their work. Unfortunately, once Susato brings up the Summation Examination, Van Zieks gets very frustrated again. This happens:

IIII don’t know what to do with this line. On first glance, I didn’t think much of it and was even willing to consider it was a compliment. Then I thought it must’ve been passive aggressive somehow; that it’s the sort of thing he wouldn’t believe until he’d seen it with his own eyes. A friend directed me to the notion that it might be referencing a stereotype that ‘Eastern women are fierce’ because they were associated with, well, certain ‘paid services’. I don’t think I need to explain, I’m sure you understand what I mean. And if indeed that’s what Barok is insinuating, that’s a new low I never thought he’d reach. However, when you’ve finished the games and know that Barok was friends with a married Japanese man, it’s entirely possible that he’s remembering a story once told to him by Genshin Asogi. So this is either a bittersweet reminiscence or the most scumbag association he ever could’ve made, but I’m not sure we can ever prove which it is. Edit: As another option, it’s possible he’s referring to the Yamato Nadeshiko stereotype, if indeed it already held the ‘touch of iron’ aspect to it back in 1900. He proceeds to toast his hallowed chalice to “the enigmatic East” and to be honest, I’ve once again got nothing. All I know is that he once again drew attention to the defense’s race when he didn’t need to, so… Scumbag point. As a sidenote, in regards to the wine… I don’t count this as a humanizing trait. The same applies to the leg slam. These are animations meant to add some more lighthearted air and breathe more life into Van Zieks, so he doesn’t just stand there like a statue. They’re just quirks meant to have him stand out from other characters. So yeah, fun as the wine and leg slam animations are, they don’t count in the redemption requirements. Anyway, Van Zieks mocks the age of Susato’s book, saying that judging by its bindings it must be fifty years old. Considering the context of the conversation, this isn’t out of bounds. The defense is using ‘outdated’ information on the law, so he points that out. Any prosecutor would’ve done it like this. Simon Blackquill likely would’ve offered to shred that outdated tome to bits for Susato. Van Zieks does toss in a “Hmph, typical Nipponese” later though, which earns him one more scumbag point. Van Zieks continues to dismiss the Summation Examination, but the judge overrules him and allows it. Law is law, after all! And this is what I meant in my previous post when I said it’s satisfying to see Ryu use actual British law against Van Zieks. Ryu is using a perfectly legitimate technique to win the jurors over, and as Susato tells him, he can only do it by turning the jurors against one another with facts. He can’t appeal to them, he can only have them see sense. Which is difficult, because some jurors are more prejudiced than others:

… Yeah. Uh. Calling Ryu a “Dark Jinx” is pretty awful. Scumbag points for Juror No. 1! Meanwhile, Juror No. 4 keeps us updated on Barok’s actions throughout this trial:

Wow. Typical prosecutor behavior, though. Regardless, Ryu manages to win them all over in the end. With enough of the scales set back to not-guilty, the trial is allowed to continue, which leads to this:

Bye, hallowed chalice. A fun animation to keep things fresh and show us that the trial is about to take a turn. Once again, nothing new. We’ve seen prosecutors lose their patience before. What does interest me, though, is that Barok doesn’t direct physical frustration towards the defense. Remember: Franziska snaps a whip at Phoenix, Godot throws coffee at his head, Blackquill sends a hawk to attack the defense or uses that aijutsu slicing move, Nahyuta throws restricting beads… These were all direct physical attacks. Van Zieks, much like Edgeworth and Klavier, directs his frustration more inward and as a result he destroys his own property.

He succeeds in intimidating Ryu, though. Van Zieks explains that he kept silent, as is the norm during Examination Summation, but makes it clear that he considers it a charade all the same.

Van Zieks has been a pretty good gentleman towards the jury up until now, speaking to them politely despite that one remark about having their head in the clouds. Now that he’s seeing them ‘buy into Ryu’s stories’, as one might describe it, he’s getting frustrated with them. Maybe he’s even frustrated they’re choosing the defense’s side over his own.

He removes his cloak, entering what he says to be the next round of their ‘battle’. More typical prosecutor behavior, this. I’m not sure there’s an underlying thought to this, other than to indicate to the audience that ‘things have gotten serious’. When the next bit of testimony is going on, I noticed something odd. Both Fairplay and Furst testify to having seen blood on McGilded’s hands, to which Van Zieks says:

“... Reported that there was no trace of blood on Mr. McGilded’s gloved hands.” So in a way, by establishing this fact, he’s helping the defense and going against what the witnesses are saying. It doesn’t help the prosecution in any way at all.

The trial continues on, with Van Zieks uttering things like “My Nipponese friend” and “my learned friend from the East” and lord knows what else… I suppose to soften the harshness of the original wording a bit and make Van Zieks just a bit less dislikable? Edit: Tumblr user @beevean has pointed out that “my learned friend” is an actual term used in courts of law. There’s a tradition (also employed in British courts of law) that when addressing either the court or the judge, a barrister refers to the opposing counsel using the respectful term, "my learned friend". Of course, it can be said with an air of passive aggression and pretending to be respectful to the court while shamelessly disrespecting it is something Barok has always done, so the addition of “my learned friend” to the localization text is amazingly in-character. Then of course we have:

This is both a scumbag remark and foreshadowing. Naturally, those playing the game for the first time won’t recognize it as the latter and therefore take it as nothing more than a harsh blow. Things spiral even further out of control when he starts talking about how people who claim the island nations of the Far East have a learning and culture of their own use those terms ill-advisedly. He also uses the words “artless backwater” and really, this is the low point of the trial right here when it comes to prejudice. Van Zieks is just plain lashing out with these sort of jabs.

Eventually, McGilded is dragged onto the witness stand to testify about whether or not there was another passenger aboard the omnibus. McGilded admits that there was, and Van Zieks snaps at him some more for using convenient excuses. Ryu is forgotten here for a moment. The whole smoke bomb thing happens, Van Zieks confers with McGilded and Gina in his own chambers, then the trial resumes. McGilded testifies, then Gina testifies… The jury votes not-guilty, buying into McGilded’s story about protecting a poor young pickpocket and Van Zieks loses it. He slams his heel down on the bench, pointing out that this is why he doesn’t like the jury system; because emotions are ruling where evidence and facts ought to be paramount. He points out while the cubbyhole Gina had been hiding in was empty now, it had been full of the coachman’s belongings during the police investigation. Someone tampered with the omnibus. This is where things get interesting, because Van Zieks addresses Ryu:

He’s giving Ryu the benefit of the doubt here. He’s offering an option for Ryu to be truthful about this matter. And that’s curious, because any defense attorney would naturally say what’s best for his client- or so it’s assumed. It puts Ryu in a difficult position for sure, but for some reason Van Zieks put the question forward anyway. The game responds as follows:

For the sake of argument, I attempted all three options. So when Ryu says he didn’t look, Van Zieks says: “Hm… Perhaps I credited you with too much intelligence.”

So when feigning ignorance, Van Zieks is kind of a scumbag about it. He is correct in his expectation that any attorney worth his badge would thoroughly examine the details of the evidence, but he didn’t need to be such a jerk about it. Now, when outright lying and saying it was empty, Van Zieks instead says:

The lines are very similar, which is an interesting note. It adds a feel of these responses being 'rehearsed', in a way. Just a default for him to fall back to. But the real kicker comes when Ryu tells the truth and says it wasn’t empty. Van Zieks is actually speechless at first with no more than a “...!” Clearly, he wasn’t expecting Ryu to respond like this. Everyone in court is baffled, McGilded gets angry… Van Zieks is a bit rattled now.

“Your task is to defend the man in the stand. Why would you say something to compromise his position?”

So really, it seems as if Van Zieks had only ever offered the question to Ryu with pessimistic intentions. He too had assumed there was only one answer the defense could give and was prepared for just that with his silly little wine analogies, only to be shocked when Ryu defies his expectations. Ryu confesses that he’s not entirely sure on where he stands in the matter, to which Van Zieks replies with “... Interesting.”

So now the jury members are doubting themselves again, with some offering guilty verdicts. Van Zieks decides to honor the ‘Scales of Justice’ once more now that they’re back in his favor, like the hypocrite he is. Gina testifies, Ryu points out an inconsistency, Van Zieks takes that opportunity to turn the tables back in his favor by implying Gina is a liar… He passive aggressively thanks Ryu for saving him considerable trouble and whatnot with some more “my learned Nipponese friend” remarks in there… Ryu turns the tables once more by insisting the victim came into the omnibus through the skylight, Van Zieks demands evidence and points out that furthermore, if indeed such a thing had happened, the witnesses on the roof would’ve seen it. McGilded hops into the conversation to imply that the witnesses themselves were the killers, which sends the court into a frenzy. Both Van Zieks and the judge shift the responsibility of the accusation towards Ryu, even though he never said a word to directly accuse the witnesses. Kind of a douchey move. Barok even states that Ryu’s ‘command of the English tongue must be wanting’, since

Yeahhh, that's pretty unfair. McGilded was the one who dropped that implication. However, since the judge basically accuses Ryu of the same thing, it’s a narrative choice to warn Ryu he needs to anticipate where his reasoning will lead him. Fairplay and Furst testify, pandemonium ensues. McGilded eventually gets what he wants when it’s revealed the skylight can open and there’s blood in there. Van Zieks once again turns his attention to McGilded:

He knows McGilded is at the root of all this tomfoolery and evidence manipulation. McGilded is the real enemy here, in Van Zieks’s eyes. The conversation shows this by having Van Zieks point out that he’s well aware of McGilded’s involvement in dubious matters and that evidence is often ‘adapted’ to suit this guy’s stories. And now, once again, he turns his attention to Ryu. Once again, he’s giving the defense the benefit of the doubt:

The game gives you the illusion of choice here. If you choose to say it’s ‘out of the question’ that the evidence was tampered with, Ryu will refuse to say it out loud. If you say it’s entirely possible, Ryu will admit to that.

This is probably baffling to Van Zieks. It would’ve been so easy for Ryu to insist the tampering couldn’t have happened, but he doesn’t. The game won’t even let him. No matter what you choose, Van Zieks is clued in on the fact that Ryu doesn’t condone the deceit that McGilded is resorting to. But it gets even better, because a short time later, we get:

Another option to either draw attention to forgery, or to feign ignorance. Once again, I chose both options for argument’s sake, but having Ryu say he has no idea doesn’t get us anywhere. Susato will instead object to say it for him. With “I have an inkling”, Ryu says it himself. Van Zieks once again confesses, in his own words, that he’s caught off guard.

Ryu clarifies that he thinks the blood stain inside the omnibus is decisive evidence, but he can’t say for certain whether it’s genuine. McGilded loses it and by this point, is outright branding Van Zieks an enemy. Since the player at this point doesn't know whether McGilded is guilty or not, it leaves Van Zieks in a bit of narrative limbo. One might think: 'if the prosecutor is so intent on taking down a murderer, shouldn't we be on his side? Is he perhaps not as bad as he seems?' Unfortunately, McGilded points out that recollection and memories don’t matter, only evidence does. And… Well.

Which means they can’t rule on a guilty verdict and will have to let McGilded go. Van Zieks admits that he has no more witnesses or evidence to present. He’s out of options. As a formality, the judge asks the defense’s closing statement and we get one last option. Do we believe him to be guilty or not-guilty? When claiming he’s innocent, Van Zieks says:

It seems he means “abject” in the sense of “without pride/respect/dignity for oneself”, which… You know, is fair. By this point it’s very clear that McGilded is guilty, and since Ryu has already admitted that the evidence may be forged, insisting otherwise is indeed pretty spineless. Scumbag points to Van Zieks for continuing to draw attention to the fact that Ryu is from Japan, though.

Let’s instead just admit that we can’t say for certain McGilded is innocent. Unfortunately, we don’t see Van Zieks react to this, which is a bummer because this could’ve been very telling. The judge questions Ryu’s sanity (no joke) and McGilded laughs because it doesn’t matter; it was just a formality anyway. The judge scolds Van Zieks, saying that his case was flawed and it was his job to keep the evidence secure. Instead of objecting, Van Zieks just outright takes the blame for this and apologizes. Very interesting reaction, here. He stops pointing the finger to McGilded, he doesn’t attempt to accuse anyone else… He just admits his performance was flawed. Ryu tries to interject here:

(A badly-timed screenshot if I’ve ever seen one.) Ryu is making an attempt here to defend Van Zieks, the guy who has built up like 20 scumbag points by now. Ryu sincerely doesn’t hold a grudge against him. That’s very interesting. It doesn’t matter, though. The judge won’t hear of it, Ryu thinks it’s unfair, Van Zieks warns McGilded that this isn’t over and then we get the not-guilty verdict.

Hurray??? Profit??? It’s a victory that’s bound to leave the player feeling conflicted and jarred.

But after all’s said and done, we get one last cutscene to establish just how ominous Van Zieks really is. The omnibus is on fire, someone is inside and we know McGilded went into the courtroom earlier to investigate the omnibus in question. So really, by putting two and two together we can already guess what’s going on here. Van Zieks approaches the scene and watches silently.

It’s a good reminder to us that every defendant he prosecutes is ‘damned’ and he’s called the Reaper for a reason. Really puts the finishing touch on the eerie undertones of his character.

All in all, a pretty typical first time against a new prosecutor. Now I just want to draw attention to the fact that the first time we face Van Zieks in court… he’s actually on the right side of the courtroom and Ryu is not. Van Zieks presumably specifically returned to the court after those five years to target McGilded, as he knows about this guy’s shady reputation when it comes to ‘adapting’ evidence. Barok is 'cursed' in such a way that every defendant he faces is damned. So long as he stands as the prosecutor, McGilded can’t get away with his crimes. No matter how much forgery is done, the Reaper will go after McGilded and it seems Van Zieks was banking on this happening.

He likely also expected Ryu to have been bought off by McGilded; to say whatever’s convenient for his case. Turns out, Ryu is actually a man of integrity who’s invested in the truth and near the end of the trial, Barok has seen evidence of this. So what will happen next? We’ll have to play The Clouded Kokoro and find out! Stay tuned!

#dgs #dgs spoilers #tgaa #tgaa spoilers #barok van zieks

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amintyworld · 4 years

Text

A Pirate’s Wedding - Sanders Sides Mer AU

A/N: Hey guys! Minty here with another fanfic inspired off of @voidsides‘s Mer AU. They are so utterly amazing and talented and if you like mermaids and pirates, you should definitely check it out on their blog! Thanks for letting me write this, Void! Hope you enjoy! - Minty

Summary: It’s Logan’s and Patton’s wedding day, and things don’t exactly all go to plan.

TW: Anxiety, drunkeness, mention of alcohol, puke. (As always, tell me if I missed anything!)

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Today was the day. The boat had been decorated with flowers, the finest rum saved, and the best meat - this was a special occasion the crew had been waiting for… what seemed like forever.

They'd been rooting for the two obvious lovers to get hitched for months after their slow romance - both were smart individuals, mind you, but were utterly stupid when it came to love.

Roman leaned against the doorframe, looking at the husband-to-be as he struggled a bit with the formal clothes they’d found. Roman giggled a bit as Patton struggled to get the tighter, somewhat puffier white shirt on. He was more used to looser clothing but insisted on making the effort to look nice today, even if he’d never worn any formal wear in his life. “Need a bit of help there, Pat?”

“Roman!” Patton turned with a squeak, his arms tangled in the white fabric. “You startled me.” Roman walked over as Patton looked down, slightly embarrassed. “How does Logan do this?”

“Here’s a little trick, Padre,” Roman said, loosening the cuffs of the shirt. “You nervous?”

“What...? Me? Nervous?” Patton scoffed, slipping into the shirt easier now, turning to the mirror as he tightened the cuffs. “Maybe...maybe just a little.”

Roman brought over the black vest as he helped his friend slip it on. “You’re going to marry Logan today. You love him, Pat - I know you do, with all your heart. When you see him standing there when you walk down that aisle, everything will fall into place. You’ll see.”

“That’s what everyone keeps telling me,” Patton said with a small huff.

“Because it’s true,” Roman said, sharing a smile. “Now, I gotta check in on Lo. You just relax, okay?”

Patton looked concerned. “Is Logan okay?”

Roman giggled, getting up and shaking his head. “You thought you were the only one nervous?”

“Oh,” Patton said. “I... wish I could go talk to him. Poor LoLo.”

“You can talk to him later, I promise,” Roman said reassuringly. “I’ll talk to him - the ceremony should start soon, anyway.”

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

Roman walked toward his own quarters - he could practically hear the rhythmic stomp of his friend’s feet up and down, pacing. Roman smiled to himself hearing this, clicking his tongue as he shook his head - he knew his first mate like the back of his hand. He opened the door slowly, as Logan looked up from his pacing.

Logan’s hair was slicked back, as always - no vest this time, just a plain white shirt with the tight cuffs that Patton had battled earlier. His dark pants and shoes complimented the simple outfit. The other husband-to-be would look relaxed if his face or fidgets didn’t notify anyone else that he was wound a bit too tight.

He tried and failed, to quickly compose himself when his captain entered, clearing his throat as he stopped fidgeting with his shirt. “Oh, hello Roman.”

Roman took in his friend - even just by looking he knew something was wrong - Logan’s usually pristine neat hair was slightly ruffed, his shirt was wrinkled, and he could tell that his right hand was about to burst trying desperately to hold back his fidgeting. “Just came to grab you, the ceremony’s about to start.”

“W-wait… now?! As in, now-now?! But I’m not ready…” Logan began his pacing once more. “I mean, I don’t know if I can handle standing up there and seeing him walk down the aisle and look at me, and-!” He stopped in his tracks, staring into space as a knot caught in his throat.

“And feel your heart absolutely melt, to hold Patton in your arms and know that he is yours, and you are his, to kiss him and dance the night away~!” Roman finished with a fake swoon and a smirk. “Logan, you’re ready for this. I know you have been ever since you saw him board the ship.”

“Roman, I-” Logan held so much emotion behind his words, and it showed.

“I know you’re scared, Lo. But I promise you, everything will be perfect. I’ve known that ever since you two started dating.” Roman said, his hands on his friend’s shoulders. “Do you remember what I said after Patton kissed you goodnight on that deck?”

Logan smiled. “You said that we ‘were meant to be’.”

“Exactly, and I still believe that. Logan, you two are there for each other through thick and thin. You love each other more than your shy butt can say-”

“Hey-!” Logan laughed, cheeks slightly pink, playfully swatting at Roman.

“- and that’s why you’re standing here about to get married,” Roman said. “You’re ready Lo. I promise.”

Logan smiled up at his friend. “Thank you.”

“Honestly I’m just surprised you got hitched before me-” Roman smirked.

“Roman-!”

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

Roman wasn’t really qualified as the smartest on the ship. Needless to say, he wasn’t someone who was right about a lot. But, Logan and Patton - he was more than right about them.

When they met each other’s gaze, their eyes never left the other for a second. Both chuckled a bit at their outfit choices, and the swap from their usual attire. Patton seemed to almost float down the aisle, Patton almost tearing up just getting there. When he stood at his partner’s side, Logan gave a gentle smile and wiped a few stray tears away, Patton leaning into his touch. They both didn’t even pay attention or notice Roman until he spoke up with a smirk. “Ahem, vows?”

“Oh, right!” Patton said, his cheeks getting a bit pink in embarrassment as the two lovebirds stepped away from each other for a moment. He looked to Logan. “If I’m going to be completely honest with my new husband, I should probably admit - I didn’t write anything.” Logan looked slightly confused, a million explantations and anxieties going through his mind. Patton smiled at him with love, holding his husband’s hands tightly to reassure him. “I wanted to speak from the heart.”

Logan looked a little flustered at this as he smiled at Patton as he continued. “Logan, I have never met anyone as smart, resourceful, responsible, and nerdy as you. It wouldn’t be a surprise when a few days after meeting you, I could never get you off of my mind. You’re one of my best friends and my soulmate, and… and my heart wants you to know how much it means to me that we’re here and that I’m with you, because I love you, Logan. I really love you.”

Logan’s eyes began to wet at his husband’s words. “I love you too, Patton.”

A few whoops and hollers from the seated crew as Roman smirked.

Logan’s written words, which he’d rehearsed over and over to perfection weighed heavily in his pocket. Part of him was worried his words couldn’t compare to his boyfriend’s, but he pushed it away. He had some important things to say, things he didn’t think he could say without reading them. He bit his lip as he unfolded the paper, and began to read.

“Patton, there’s so much about you that I could never put to paper. I don’t think anyone could describe you accurately without the way your smile seems to spark my own, or how you act with such love and compassion towards everyone you meet. I want you to know how lucky I am to have someone like you in my life.”

“Aw, Lo-!” Patton said smiling.

“I didn’t believe in love or had even felt what love was until you walked into my life. It was scary but exciting. It was an adventure that I would never take back as long as I live. You changed my life, Patton, and I hope that now, I can change yours.”

“Oh Lo!” Patton smiled, a few tears falling from his face that Logan wiped away as he kissed Patton’s forehead lovingly. They both heard silent sobs and quickly looked up to see Roman with his eyes red and thick tear streaks down his cheeks, faint sniffling. He had been sobbing the entire time in the background, barely even holding himself together. “Ro, you okay?”

Roman wiped away his tears with a smile. “Sorry.”

In truth, Roman had cried not just because of his two friend’s beautiful union, but because he’s never seen Logan so happy, and he knew his friend deserved to feel that way every moment of his life. He held out the two rings in his palm - they were golden bands - all they could afford, but to the couple, it didn’t matter. They both slipped the rings on with ease, looking back to each other, their fingers intertwined.

The Captain heaved a gigantic leather book up, with a few stumbles and slight crashes, as he flipped to the page. He looked over to Patton. “Patton, do you take Logan as your husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish; from this day forward ‘till death do you part?”

Patton turned, giving Roman a smile. “I do.”

Roman turned to Logan, getting his attention as Logan turned to meet his gaze. “Logan, do you take Patton as your husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better or for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish; from this day forward ‘till death do you part?”

Logan cupped Patton’s cheek with a warm smile for a moment, words caught in his throat before he could say them, and he turned to Roman, giving him a curtly nod. Roman smiled in return - he couldn’t describe this almost feeling of pride and proudness bursting his chest as he recited the last part.

“Then, by the power vested in me, I now pronounce you as husbands, you may kiss-!” Before Roman even finished the sentence, Patton quickly pressed his lips to Logan’s, making Logan blush profusely as whoops and hollers called out from the crowd. Roman just chuckled deeply. “Please, don’t wait for me you lovebirds-!”

Patton pulled away, catching his breath, seeing Logan and getting a bit embarassed. “S-sorry Lo, I just couldn’t wait and- ugh, that was so inconsiderate, you probably-!”

Logan quickly pulled his new husband close, making him squeak and turn pink. “Patton, never apologize for a kiss ever again, especially that one.” Logan connected their lips again, Patton’s heart drumming in his chest as the cheers from the crew grew louder, cheering the new couple on. Patton smirked, pulling away quickly and picking up his new husband bridal style, walking through the crowd as a loud crack of thunder stole everyone’s attention away from the newlyweds. Logan just looked at his friend. “‘Clear skies’, huh?”

Roman looked at the sky, confused. “It shouldn’t rain today, the sky was perfectly clear a moment ago-!”

With a crack of lightning, rain pelted down on the crowd. Roman pointed his sword toward the prepared meal. “Save the food and drink! Head for the lower decks, and be quick about it!” Crew members began hurridly grabbing bottles of rum and pots of soup, bread, and meat. It looked almost like an infestation of cats, rushing around in the rain so fast, occassionally bumping into each other.

In the middle of all this choatic mess was the newlyweds, who looked to each other for a moment, Patton quickly putting Logan down. Patton burst out laughing, leading Logan to do the same. Soon both were doubled over, laughing at all this insanity. “Roman really needs to get better at his predictions.”

“Yeah.”

Logan gave his husband a smile as the laughter died down. He held out his hand. “Our first dance, my love?”

Patton just smiled, taking his hand as they waltzed, The crew running around them. At this point, most have made it to the lower decks, but a few are rushing back and forth to save the food from getting soggy. The couple is completely drenched, cold, and nearly deaf with the shouts and sound of rain filling their ears.

They’re all these things, but mostly they… they’re happy just to be with each other, standing in the rain, holding each other close as they dance to the music in their minds. Logan spun Patton out and back in with a grin, not even caring at this point of the mess. Patton laid his head on Logan’s shoulder, and Logan could feel his heart practically melt at the cuteness.

“Guys, what are you-?!” Captain Roman looked at the scene in front of him. It looked straight out of a fairytale - the rain no longer threatening, but romantic. Part of him wanted to grab the two and get them to safety before they got sick, but his heart… his heart had another idea.

He sighed, sitting on the steps, letting the rain wash over him as he watched for a few moments. He couldn’t help but yearn, hope really, that someday, he’d have someone like that. Someone who loved him. He looked at them with a smile.

One day, maybe. One day.

He slowly crept back to the lower deck, letting the lovebirds have a bit more private time before dealing with the drunkards later. He looked at his crew, shivering in blankets. “Someone light the fire and let’s enjoy this feast in honor of our friends!” The crew scrambled to light the fire, and the boat filled quickly with warmth. “Pass the rum over, will ya?” Roman smirked as one of his crew passed the bottle and he raised it to the air. “To Logan and Patton!”

The crew cheered, holding up their flasks and bottles. “To Logan and Patton!”

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

Roman looked out over the calm ocean, Logan at his side with his new golden band on his finger. Logan grinned as he stared out. “You know, I’ve never seen so many drunkards in my entire life.”

Roman laughed. “Jokes on them for drinking the whole bottle.”

Logan narrowed his eyes, turning to his friend. “Didn’t you drink the whole bottle?”

“Touche.” A comfortable silence passed between the two as they stared out to the calm ocean, the night sky clear with twinkling stars. “So, you’re a married man now, eh Lo?”

“I guess I am,” Logan smiled. “Before the charming Roman, no less.”

“Don’t remind me.”

Patton crept quickly and quietly up the stairs. “I think that’s all of them. Finally managed to get them to sleep and wrestle those damn flasks away…” He murmured. “If I never have to clean up puke again, I’ll die a happy man, that’s for sure.” Patton sighed, smiling at his husband. “I look like a mess, don’t I?” Logan turned with a comforting smile.

“I’ve never seen a more beautiful sight than what’s right in front of me, my sweet.” Logan said. He walked closer, kissing the top of his husband’s forehead and ignoring the strong smell of vomit and booze. “That’s… an interesting smell.”

“I... should get cleaned up.” Patton giggled.

“Much obliged, Patton.” Logan said, his nose wrinkling at the smell. He turned to his Captain. “Roman? Will you be alright here?”

“Of course! You two go, enjoy your time. You two just got married, after all.” Roman waved off. He held up a flask. “I still got this left to finish, anyway.”

“Well, alright. Thanks for the wedding, Roman.” Patton said. “Even though there were, eh… a few hiccups.”

“I’m glad you liked it, Patton.” Roman said, turning and looking to Patton with a genuine smile. “Take care of the nerd for me, will ya?”

Patton looked to his husband for a moment, and turned back to Roman with a comforting smile. “Of course.”

Both said goodnight as they walked off, leaving Roman alone with the stars.

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

Roman leaned on the ship’s railing, looking out to the sea, his mind filled yet cloudy from the booze. Today to anyone else would be a complete disaster, but… he supposed he and his crew weren’t exactly like anyone else. He smiled, taking a swig of rum and looking to the stars.

He looked up and found the bright star Logan always talked about staring back at him. His mind whirred, trying to remember the name. He didn’t really often listen that much to Logan’s rants, and when he did, it was always on something extremely important. But something clicked in Roman’s drunken brain and he remembered - the North Star.

The North Star glimmered against the deep blue velvet sky, and Roman would admit he’d never seen anything more beautiful in his life. A pang in his chest ached for someone to share it with. He sighed, taking another swig of his flask as he began to hum and sing a song to the night sky, trying to forget his troubles and ease the pain in his chest.

“What do we do with the drunken sailor, what do we with the drunken sailor, what do we do with the drunken sailor early in the morning…”

#mer au #mermay #sanders sides #sander sides #logan sanders #patton sanders #roman sanders #logicality

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