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#on the bright side... a familiar face has shown up! but that also makes me sad
cloudcountry · 1 year
Text
breaking the mold
Genre/Tropes: Mutual Pining if you squint very hard.
Summary: Vil has always been cast as the villain. With a new writer working with his club, he learns that not every director will see him that way.
Author's Comments: I wrote something similar to this for another character that was normally portrayed as a villain (2p!America cough cough) so it was kinda funny writing something like this again but I really enjoyed it!! Also, in Epel's SSR vignettes this club apparently doesn't have auditions? Vil just picks someone and is like "you're good" so I put Reader in that same role.
~~~~~
“For our next play, I’ve opted to let our newest member write it. They’ve proven themselves efficient at directing the stage crew and have shown me various samples of their writing.” Vil announced, locking eyes with you from in front of the small crowd of club members, “Come to the front, director!”
Murmurs swept through the crowd as you jumped up, rushing towards his side with a huge smile on your face. Vil looked upon your smiling face with pride, confident that he’d made the right choice. It only made you more motivated to please him.
“A new member? Writing for us?” someone muttered from the group, “That’s unheard of.”
“You must push boundaries to progress.” Vil responded, “I’ve made my choice. I only hope the rest of you are willing to give them a chance.”
“I won’t let you down!” you proclaimed, standing even straighter in hopes that the club would accept you.
“Let’s try it out. What’s the worst that could happen?” someone else said, “Besides, Vil will still be overseeing everything, Nothing will go wrong!”
Another murmur swept through the crowd as people started to nod. Vil turned to you with a small nod, and you knew exactly what he was trying to say.
They don’t believe you can do it by yourself. Prove them wrong.
👑
The next day, Vil walked into the small room the club had set aside for you. The table was cluttered with papers and pencils, and in the middle of it was you, writing down one last note before you looked up at him and beamed.
“So, how’s the cast list coming along?” he asked, trying to make sense of the messy writing scrawled over the papers nearest to him.
“I’m so glad you asked! I’m planning on casting you as the main character, of course.” you hummed, pouring over the script on the table, “I want to start off my first play with a bang, but you’re also the safest option because of your experience.”
Vil watched you work, scribbling down notes for the plot and little details you wanted added to the set. The passion and personalization you were giving to this production was admirable. Vil often had to remind his fellow club members to do exactly what you were doing when directing productions and designing sets. All of the actors and crew should be represented in their own special ways when on stage.
“Just so you know, I refuse to play a villain role. If you opted to play me in that role, perish the thought. I refuse.” he declared, pulling out the chair opposite of you and sitting down.
He was prepared for a barrage of complaints and reassurance. He was prepared for ‘but you’d do so well!’ and ‘it’s a great opportunity!’ and ‘what do you mean? Do it for the play!’ His agent’s voice echoed in his ears as he waited for your response, and he shook her away.
“Don’t worry, you’re not the villain. Not every hero is warm and soft, you know?” you laughed, shaking your head, “Heroes can be cool and tough too. If I wanted to write something with a wimpy hero I wouldn’t be casting you in the first place.”
You passed him the list of characters from across the table, pointing to the bright HERO title with stars doodled around it. His name was written in your all too familiar handwriting, a little smile stretching across the bottom of his name that used the two i’s as eyes.
“If this is your verdict, I’ll respect it.” he nodded, passing back to list.
“Oh, but you wouldn’t have if you were the villain?’ you snorted playfully, “I’m just kidding. I’m not here to write something cliche and stupid. I’m here to explore a side to heroes that the productions we’ve seen so far don’t want us to see.”
“Elaborate.” he said, lacing his fingers together on top of the table.
“All of the productions I’ve seen in Twisted Wonderland portray heroes as happy and soft and sweet. But heroes need to be smart and strong and resilient, you know? I don’t understand why people think those attributes are more villain-like. It’s like they want their heroes to be joyful and handsome instead of genuinely strong.” you met his gaze and beamed, “Not that you aren’t handsome. Obviously. You know how good looking you are.”
“Flattery will get you nowhere.” Vil rolled his eyes, gesturing for you to continue.
“Right, right. I’ll keep talking, Your Highness.” you snickered, scribbling a few more notes down on the character page, “I actually cast Rook as the villain this time around. I’m sure he’d be thrilled to share the stage with you. Also, doesn’t he have that dramatic villain vibe about him? I figured he’d be able to play the tyrannical king role pretty well.”
“You’re definitely right about that.” Vil nodded, lifting up the set design from your pile of papers, “Is there a particular reason why you chose the mirror to be here, in the corner?”
“Ooooh, I’m so glad you asked!” you nearly leapt across the table to look at the diagram with him, your hand resting on his arm for support, “You see, the tyrannical king ends up trapped in the mirror at the end of the play. I wanted to pay homage to the Evil Queen and her magic mirror while also giving the impression that the king’s punishment is a result of finally being cornered. He spends so much of the play in the middle of the stage, but once the hero and his allies find him he gets backed into that corner with no escape! He’s hidden away from the audience’s view and then the lights go out and boom! He’s trapped in the mirror for all eternity!”
“It’s very hard to come up with an original story, so I don’t blame you for referencing the Evil Queen.” Vil hummed thoughtfully, “However, are you sure the mirror design is your best work? If it’s truly a symbol to pay homage to the Evil Queen, will the audience get that message from this design?”
He handed the design back to you, watching as you poured over it. Your pursed lips slowly lifted into a smile as you jolted back into your chair, scribbling away at the paper once again.
“I got it now! This next one will be the one that knocks your socks off!” you proclaimed, waggling your pencil at him.
“I look forward to it.” he chuckled, leaning over to pat your head before leaving the room with a swish of his cloak.
You shot up in your chair, brushing a hand over where he had touched your hair. He really did know exactly how to motivate people, didn’t he?
👑
“Why did you cast Vil as the hero?” Epel asked, tilting his head as he read through the cast list.
“He’d be a lovely hero. That’s why.” you replied, waiting for the rest of the cast and crew to read over the list.
“That’s…an odd choice.” someone else piped up, “I mean, Vil is more suited to be a villain, you know?”
The group mumbled in agreement, nodding their heads. You furrowed your brow, holding back the twinge of annoyance in your chest.
“Do you want to have a play with a hero that’s soft and gentle? Or do you want a hero that’s tough and reliable? Do you want someone who only focuses on the princess, or a hero that rallies people together? Do you want a hero that nobody cares much about because they’re so vapid and uninteresting, or do you want a hero that everyone will remember because he’s the one that sent chills down their spine?!” you narrowed your eyes as the club listened, allowing you to explain yourself, “Vil is perfect for a hero role. It’s a disgrace that nobody has cast him in that role before.”
The room was silent for a moment before Epel sighed, shrugging his shoulders.
“If that’s what our director thinks, then I agree. They’re pretty convincing too, when they want to be.”
“Thank you, Epel.” your gaze softened as you relaxed, making sure to make eye contact with as many people as you could, “I’m willing to hear your input on this, but I’m not going to put Vil in a role that I think would be ill-suited for him.”
“I think Rook as the villain is a good casting choice.” Someone offered, “We’ve never seen him in a role like that before, but seeing you make that decision has made me curious.”
“Yeah! I know he’s in the science club, but there’s no way he’d pass up a chance to perform with Vil.” you nodded enthusiastically.
“He has no qualms about getting people not in his club to participate.” Epel mumbled, “I miss Spelldrive practice for one of his plays once…if I missed the play he would’ve killed me.”
“You were our main role, Epel. Our leading star. The play would have been ruined if you didn’t show up.” Vil replied, stepping into the room with grandeur.
“Housewarden!” Epel yelped, “How long were you there?”
“Don’t yell. I’ve been here the whole time.” his eyes flickered to yours, gratitude in his eyes, “I heard your discussion about the roles. I’m glad we’re all in agreement.”
“I’ll run them by Rook later.” you shot up out of your seat, gathering your papers quickly, “I still have to finalize that mirror design, and then I’ll show you that too. Let me know what you think!”
“Wait.” he placed a gentle hand on your shoulder, eyes only for you as everyone else filed out, “I want you to stay back for a moment.”
“Hmm? What for?” you asked.
“I want to talk to you. That’s all. Do I need a reason?” he replied, a challenge clear in his tone.
“Of course not, handsome.” you laughed, sitting back down, “What did you want to talk about?”
“I wanted to show you my gratitude.” he began, sitting in the chair beside you, “You have been the only person that has bothered to take my thoughts into consideration. It’s such a simple thing, but since you are the first to show me such thoughtfulness, I feel the need to let you know the impression you’ve made on me.”
“It’s no big deal at all! I just did what I thought would fit you best.” you stumbled over your words, face warming at the praise.
Since when did Vil praise you for silly things like that?!
Amused by your reaction, he laughed. How was one man so pretty? His hair fell into his eyes before he brushed it away, meeting your gaze again. You swallowed thickly, nerves twisting in your stomach.
“I trust you will do your best.” he said, hands clasped in his lap, “I believe in you.”
With that said, he left, leaving your mouth hanging open in shock.
If Vil Schoenheit wanted you to focus, he’d need to stop praising you like that.
👑
The day of the play was fast approaching as you watched over the rehearsals. The costumes had come together a while ago and the set had been built completely. The paint crew was still touching up on little details of the castle and mirror, each golden swirl and apple motif painted with extra care. Some of the club members that had worked on the set even picked up a paintbrush for the production. It warmed your heart to see everyone try so hard for the sake of you and your production. Even Epel came in to work hard when he didn’t have Spelldrive practice, his painted apples shining more radiantly than anyone else’s. Before you knew it, the show was being performed for any NRC students that wanted to attend. You extended personal invitations to all of your friends, making sure Malleus in particular had the date memorized so he could see your vision come to life. Cater had spammed his Magicam feed with promotional posters for the show, and Vil had also done some advertising to a lesser extent. The nerves were starting to settle in as you watched the people file into the theater, the low rumbling of conversation making your stomach do flips. Pacing around, you took deep breaths as your heart pounded. Today was the day of your debut as a director for Vil Schoenheit and the entire Film research Club. You only hoped you could do him and the rest of his club justice.
“You’re up.” Vil said from behind you, resting a hand on your shoulder, “I know you’re nervous, but you’re ready for this. I would not let you walk out on that stage if I didn’t think you were one hundred percent ready.”
“Thank you, Vil.” you smiled, hands shaking as they took the mic from the nearby stand, “I’ll…I’ll go break a leg out there.”
His eyes shone with affection as he offered you a smile, gently pushing you into the bright lights of the stage.
You blinked as your eyes adjusted to the new lighting, a chorus of cheers and whoops erupting from the crowd. Your stomach twisted itself into an even bigger knot as the darkened blurs wriggled and twitched with movement, but you reminded yourself of Vil’s words and breathed deeply.
“Thank you all for coming out tonight!” you said, putting the biggest smile you could on your face.
The sentiment was met with another round of applause and a loud yell of “THAT'S MY BEST FRIEND,” which you could only assume came from Ace.
“Thank you, thank you! Um…” you clutched the microphone tightly as the applause died down, taking in another deep breath, “This is my first time producing a play with the film research club. Being a director has been hectic, but it has also been very rewarding. As you all know, I got to work with the amazing Vil Schoenheit on this project-”
An even bigger applause erupted from the crowd at the mention of his name, to which you responded by looking backstage for him. He was standing just behind the curtain, a smile on his face as he listened.
“I know, I adore him too. He spent hours and hours with me, pushing me to do my best on set design and costumes and storytelling. He wanted me to make this play personal, and because of that, there are bits of him in the story, too.” you stopped to take a breath, the audience silent as you continued, “Thank you all for coming out tonight to support the work we do. Without further ado, I present to you, Poison’s Heir!”
The audience burst into applause again as you rushed off stage, waving to everyone that had come to watch your show.
“You did so well.” Vil whispered as the lights dimmed, “Now go take a breather. I’ll handle the rest.”
“Break a leg.” you whispered back, beaming at him.
👑
The second the auditorium doors were opened after everyone had taken their final bow, you were jumped on by Ace, Deuce, and Grim. A strangled yelp escaped your throat as you begged them to let you go, but they refused.
“You never told me you wrote in your spare time!” Ace yelled, pointing an accusatory finger at you, “I can’t believe you wrote something like that and didn’t tell us! What is wrong with you?!”
“It was really good, Prefect.” Deuce said, looking at you with stars in his eyes, “I’m so impressed, it must have taken so much work to build everything.”
“That’s why you kept sneaking off! That’s why you had all those late nights! Why didn’t you tell me?!” Grim grabbed your leg and shook it vigorously.
“I wanted it to be a surprise!” you yelped, shaking them off, “I’m surprised you guys even came!”
“Of course we did! You always come to my basketball games and I know you go to Deuce’s track meets too! Don’t act like it’s a burden for us to show up!” Ace crossed his arms over his chest and glared, pouting like a child.
“Hello, Child of Man.” Malleus interrupted, appearing behind you unexpectedly, “That was a lovely production.”
“Hornton!” you jumped, placing a hand over your heart, “You scared me! Don’t just teleport behind people like that!”
“But I didn’t.” he mumbled, a confused look on his face, “I just walked up to you.”
“Ah. My bad. I was occupied.” you sighed, smiling at him, “I’m glad you liked it!”
“I brought you this.” he hummed, presenting you with a bundle of orange roses, “I was told by Lilia that directors and cast members of plays often receive flowers after a play as a show of appreciation. He stressed that I should not give them to you before the play, since I would be bestowing bad luck upon you.”
“Dude, we so got one upped!” Ace quipped, but you ignored him.
“Aww, thank you so much.” you gasped, gratefully accepting the flowers from his arms, “They’re beautiful. I’ll be sure to treasure them for as long as they live.”
“Don’t worry, Child of Man. I’ve enchanted them so that they will not die.” he smirked, “You don't even have to water them. Those flowers will remain stationary, halted in time, just like the memory of your first production in my mind.”
You almost cried with how moved you were, but settled for giving him a huge hug. He returned it, holding your gently before he gave you a final smile and moved on.
The next person to throw themselves on you was none other than Cater.
“Hon!” Cater screeched, throwing his arms around you dramatically, “Oh, that was a gorgeous production! I wish I could have recorded it!”
“Thank you so much!” you laughed, wrapping your free arm around him to hug him back.
“Would you mind taking a picture with me? I’d absolutely love a photo of the director themself!” he begged, hands itching to grab his phone and take as many pictures as possible.
“Of course you can.” you pulled away, putting on another one of your director smiles.
Cater whipped out his phone and took a bunch of quick pictures, trying out a few different angles. You felt your crowd pleasing smile grow into a genuine one as your face warmed, feeling all the love all of your friends were sending to you.
“You don’t mind if I post these to Magicam, right?” he asked.
“You ask every time Cater. My answer is always no. I don’t mind at all!” you laughed, thankful he’d go through the effort of checking every time.
“I just want to be sure! I’ll send you the ones I want to post just so you can go through them.” he said, pulling you in for one last hug, “Great job, hon. I’m so proud of you.”
The crowds slowly died down as time went on, and the club was finally allowed the step back into the auditorium. That’s where you found Vil, standing by the doorway in his costume.
“I was waiting for you.” he said, hooking his arm through yours and pulling you away from the group, “Come with me.”
You allowed him to lead you outside into the cool night air. He sat down on a nearby bench and gestured for you to do the same.
“So how many flowers did you get?” you asked, still clutching the orange roses to your chest.
“I received many flowers from adoring fans.” he said matter of factly, “But that’s not what I wanted to talk about.”
“What is it?” you asked, scooting closer.
“Magicam. The production is blowing up.” he murmured, unlocking his phone and pulling up his Magicam feed.
You watched as he scrolled through post after post of happy, celebratory photos, all tagged with #Poison’sHeir. Your heart warmed at the display and the fact that Vil had taken the time to show it to you.
“I dare say your first show was a success. I’m looking forward to the next one you direct.” he chuckled, expression soft and caring, “I’d love to work with you again.”
Pride welled up in your chest at his words, the knowledge that this would not be your last show and that you’d impressed him enough to earn his praise forcing a wobbly smile to bloom across your face.
“Wait…Vil, is that Neige?” you gasped, the laughter catching in your throat as the moment was shattered.
His nose wrinkled in displeasure as he rapidly scrolled away from the post.
“Don’t pay attention to him-”
“Noooo, Vil! I wanted to see his post!”
“Stop trying to take my phone-!”
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Wally, Darling ♥
Wally Darling x Architect! F! Reader
HHHHHHHH this puppet has me on a chokehold. Words I never thought I’d ever hear myself say or type. Ever. I blame it on tiktok. I was doing my architectural interiors plate when I got distracted by tiktok and this yellow puppet sesame street jojo reference lookin ass charmed me to death. So now I’m here. And no one was writing domestic fluff for the two so I took it upon myself and wrote this.
They’re married, your honor. Also the MC knows what Wally is capable of and they love him for it.
I thought it would be fun to make an architect character seeing that I am studying to be one, and it would be interesting because an artist and an architect would be a perfect pair in my eyes. Tell me if you wanna see more of these two! I'd be glad to write some more!
For a cheerful place like the Neighborhood, no one would dare think that such a colorful and lively place like such would ever hold horrifying secrets… But, unfortunately, it does. And the neighborhood’s artist is one of them.
And she knows. She’s known about it for a long time. The others, however… they couldn’t see him the way she could, couldn’t look behind those seemingly unblinking eyes and find the truth he had shown her himself. The way his blank stares could look past the colorful world they lived in and stare at those from above. He’s quoted it before. ‘As above, so below’, the word’s were a puzzle on her brain, one she didn’t think she could fully understand the way he did, but he promised her that he’d help her understand, soon.
“Wally, darling?” She walked through the open door of his house, Home, who had easily let her in the moments its eyes saw her walking down the street. She could hear him humming from somewhere inside. Giving Home a single pat on the wall as she entered as some sort of greeting, Home let out a squeak on its door as it closed, the sound resembling that of a satisfied squeak that definitely alarmed the other resident inside.
“Home? Is someone at the door?”
Home replied with a few banging of the doors and a squeak at a nearby window.
“Oh!” The footsteps that followed the sound of realization brought a chuckle to her lips, untying her shoes and placing them in the nearby shoe rack just as Wally appears on the corner, his smile seeming to grow at the sight of her standing from the crouched position, taking the bags of groceries from the side and giving her a quick peck on the cheek. “I didn’t hear you come in.”
“Clearly,” she laughed, especially with the way his cheeks turned a bright pink with embarrassment. She cups his cheeks, tilting his head up at her and giving him a kiss on the forehead then down the middle of his face, and finally, to his lips, and he could’ve fallen then and there on the floor if she didn’t have her hands to his cheeks to ground him. His eyes staring lovingly into her own that she could’ve sworn they would’ve dilated all the way to make his eyes all black. “Now, what do you want to have for lunch? I bought your favorite.”
That made him perk up, helping her with the rest of the bags of groceries and bringing them to the kitchen as she offered to make him try apple pie, especially since her grandmother called and gave her the recipe she’s been asking for the past few months.
She started the stove, and at the heat, Home opened the windows by the sink, muttering a small thank you to the house as she went and grabbed the familiar shiny red delicious in one of the bags, Wally perking up at the sight and immediately sneaking a bite on one of them.
“Now, I—” She paused at the sight of a bite mark on the one she was holding, the smug look on Wally’s face not going unnoticed before he turned inconspicuously to the drawers, pulling one open and grabbing the cutlery they needed to make lunch. “Wally, darling,”
“Yes (Y/n), darling?” His hands were behind his back, eyes squinted in a tease as his cat-like grin seemed to widen in a challenge. “Did something happen?”
She turned the apple around, showing him the bite mark and his face contorted into a faux shock, a hand to his chest. “Oh no! Did Howdy sell you that? My, you better check your bags next time before buying them.”
“Here, let me eat that one so it doesn’t go to waste,” Wally snatches it out of her hand, but she was quick enough to turn and hover it above her head, lips in a victorious grin until the world seemed to go to static, and her limbs felt numb, the sound of chomping echoing in the sudden silence that stirred the entirety of the neighborhood.
She blinked, meeting eye to eye with a rather satisfied Wally. When she brought her hand down, the apple that had been in her palm was left with nothing but the core.
“I forgot you could do that,” She poked her tongue out at him, and he laughed in the way he normally did, her stomach flipping at the sound, unable to help the laughter that leaves her as well. The way he ate always left her shaking at times, made her skin feel as if static was crawling on every crevice of her body, but at the end of the day, it was him, and she trusted him enough to know he wouldn’t try to hurt her with his abilities. “Now, how about we actually start making lunch?” She waves a plastic spatula at him. “And don’t eat all the apples, I’ll need those for the apple pie later!”
He pokes his tongue out at her, then takes out some of the groceries, Home helping out by opening the fridge just as he was bringing the eggs over and either opening the drawers for him or for (Y/n) whenever one of them needed something from somewhere.
It was the usual dance around the kitchen. If (Y/n) needed something from a drawer, Home was quick to open that said drawer and Wally would grab the item and hand it to her, if the food was done, (Y/n) would scoop a little bit onto a spatula and lightly blow on it, before trying to taste it and then, she would turn to him.
“What do you think? Is it good?”
He’d let his stare on her linger, and then turn to the food on the spatula. She could feel it again, the way the world seemed to turn into a buzz of static, crawling up her arms and legs before she blinked and everything was back to normal, and the food on the spatula was gone.
“It tastes lovely.”
She grinned, satisfied with the answer before finally turning the stove off, placing the plates and other utensils she used on the sink. “That’s great! Poppy is coming over, by the way! She wanted to talk to me about renovating her house.”
“Oh?” He grabs the plate from inside a kitchen cabinet that Home swings open, wondering if he should bring out three sets of plates judging from that information or if he should just ask. “What did she want to change about it?”
“Nothing much, just the porch and the living room, everything else is fine.” As she was placing the food on the table, she perked up. “Oh! You could help me with painting! She said it was fine if you painted the front of the house! I thought it would be a good idea since you paint better between the both of us and she said that she would be thrilled if you gave it some sort of personal touch the way we did with Sally’s!”
He loved seeing the sparkle in her eyes whenever she talked about the things she enjoyed the most, how they would crinkle at the sides with joy and how they would look up as she tried to remember something she had forgotten. He adored his darling, and there were little to no times where he could bring himself to say ‘no’ to her.
So, obviously, he said yes. Anything for her, to spend time with his (Y/n) Darling.
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executethyself35 · 2 months
Text
Let's See How Far We've Come: Episode 1
pairings: BoB x ocs
a/n: the time throughout the day might seem wonky, has actually been proofread, for future chapters: this is based off of the show and the actors representations of these men, i mean no offense to the actual veterans.
warnings: slight cursing
Toccoa, Georgia, 1942 
Everyone got to the barracks at different times, trains coming from different states and cities taking somewhat longer or shorter. The first one there was probably Eliza Thomlin. With her being from Asheville and all. Eliza arrived at 5 am and waited for maybe five hours until another girl came. The girl was taller than Eliza. Her skin was much paler than Eliza's, with a near-white complexion. Her curly blonde hair framed her pretty face. The girl then introduced herself.
“Hello my name’s Torrance, everyone calls me Torrie though,” she had a British accent, which was strange being that they were in the south.
“I’m Eliza, ain’t you supposed to be on the other side of the pond?” asked Eliza. 
Before answering, Torrie let out a laugh, “Yea, I guess so, but I haven’t been to the other side since I was 15.” 
 “Well, I didn’t expect that, where are you from now?” Eliza let out a chuckle.
 “Hattiesburg, Mississippi, you?” 
 “Asheville, North Carolina, I’ve been sitting here for 5 hours waiting for someone to show up.” 
 “Well, you got someone to talk to now,” Torrie laughed again. Eliza smiled, she knew she was gonna have a friend here. About an hour later, a dark-skinned girl showed up, who spoke quickly with a clear New Orleans accent. “Y’all here for the female parachute infantry?”
 Eliza immediately replied, “Yup, what’s your name?”
 “Olive-Marie LeBeau, most people call me Olive though,” the girl replied.
 “I’m Eliza.” 
 Torrie piped in, “And I’m Torrie,” her accent seemed to surprise Olive.
“Well at least it’s nice to see a familiar face,” Olive replied. Over the hour that Eliza and Torrie were talking, Eliza found out Torrie was mixed and just so happened to be albino also. “Yea, it is, you look shocked by my accent” Torrie replied.
Olive laughed, “Well, you don’t hear a British accent in America all that often.”   Torrie replied, “Well you got that right.” 
A few hours later two other girls showed up. They were around the same height. One had olive skin and medium brown hair, and the other had tan skin and black hair. The black-haired one spoke up immediately, “What’s all y’all’s names? I’m Bianca Hernandez.” 
 Everyone introduced themselves except the brown-haired girl. “What’s your name girl?” asked Olive.
“I’m Marselle Rosaliano,” the girl answered in a sweet tone. “I like your hair, Eliza, it suits your eyes.” 
Eliza was bright ginger with bright green eyes, and that comment made her face as bright as her hair. It was later into the afternoon and the girls who had shown up already had retreated inside the barracks. There was a knock on the door, Bianca had yelled for whoever it was to come in. In walked the tallest of the girls gathered, she was built and had long black hair and dark eyes, and she looked menacing. Bianca asked, “What’s your name?”
“It’s Zipporah Fieldman,” said the girl. 
Bianca grinned while lying on her side in one of the barracks beds. “Well, I’m gonna call you Zippo because there’s no way in hell I’m gonna remember that.”
Zippo let out a chuckle, “That’s better than Zippy, what’s your name?”
 “Bianca,” she replied. 
“Well, I’ll call you B.”
 B chuckled, “That’s creative.”
“Yea and so is Zippo asshole,” Zippo replied grinning. Everyone started talking and having a good time and started creating nicknames for the ones who didn’t have one already. Olive became Ollie. They tried to make Eliza ‘Lizzy’ until she shot that down in a heartbeat angrily, no one questioned it and they moved on. Marselle politely declined being given a nickname. 
It was about 2 hours later and what seemed to be the last of the girls had arrived. She seemed to be about Marselle and B’s height, she had dark red hair and pale skin, she and Eliza looked like they could be sisters. She knocked on the door and walked into the barracks. Everyone stopped talking and looked up at her. Until Zippo perked up “What’s your name?”
“Mary McCullen,'' the girl introduced herself.
“I’m Zippo, that’s B, that’s Ollie, that’s Torrie, that’s Marselle, and that’s Eliza,” Zippo introduced herself and everyone else. Everyone greeted each other and started shooting the shit. Until one last girl barged into the room. She looked like she was ready to give everyone an order, she glared at all of them. A look that made all the girls get out of their beds and stand at attention. Now, she was the tallest out of all of them, she had short straight blonde hair. She spoke with an authoritative tone. “I’m Lieutenant Harten, I’ll be leading you ladies. You girls are now officially apart of the 101st Airborne, you neanderthalettes are gonna be apart of the 506th’s E Company, you all better prove yourself tomorrow and show that a women’s division isn’t a stupid idea, because tomorrow is when you meet the boys of Easy and show them what you’re made of. Now go get some food because for some reason they decided to keep y’all separate from the boys for as long as possible,” the Lieutenant let out a laugh. And so it begins…
Taglist!!: @turtle-toe, @1waveshortofashipwreck, @dontirrigateme, @blueberry-ovaries, @montied, @scotchballs9, @xxluckystrike, @ithinkabouttzu, @themysciraprincess, if you want to be added or removed from the list, message me or send me an ask and i'll take you off or add you!!
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ganymedesclock · 1 year
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Hi, I've got a Hollow Knight question for you. How much do you think PK actively designed his small body, vs just wanting certain criteria and the rest just sorta happening? Also, how much do you think the anatomy resembles normal bug anatomy vs Wyrm anatomy vs entirely unique anatomy?
I think PK had full control over what he would become within the limits of physiology (so, he couldn't, say, have had his head fully detached from his body) but he didn't understand the ramifications very well until later.
PK, as far as we can tell, is an extremely detail-obsessive individual. He's not caught by surprise by the features of his creations, but he is often dangerously wrong about what this implies about their more ephemeral traits. Considering he is his own work, I think this applies to him.
So, he chose to become smaller- and probably lowballed it intentionally because he did not want to tower over others. (I'm a slightly boring person who doesn't think he minds being short, though his ego wouldn't be untouchable in that subject, the fact that he's "actually" godzilla-sized in origin and chose to leave that life voluntarily behind suggests that he doesn't exactly have hangups about needing to be taller)
He chose to redefine his bladed mouthparts as a sharpened crown, and to give himself a Face, that bugs would like to look at and find familiar. He chose to- at least in my interpretations of what lies under his cloak- give himself multiple flexible, dexterous graspers.
As far as anatomy goes, I'm going to share this older (warning for bug mandibles) art I did of a possible gijinka design, because that gets at about what I feel like his features would read as to mundane bug and beast.
Basically, he has some unusual features but a lot of those things are flattering or pretty from a certain angle; he has a very smooth, graceful gait (almost floating, without distinct strides) he has a very bright, shiny exoskeleton (literally shining) without blemishes or asymmetry, he has long horns- which are apparently a sought-after trait in Hallownest's society given the journal description of the Husk Hornhead. This is why his gijinka form as I drew it is, superficially at least, a handsome swishy fantasy elf-wizard-looking type. He is literally a piece of art sculpted by his own hands and his eye for aesthetics is not only obvious but pretty clearly lines up with what the average layperson considers beautiful- look at how nice the White Palace looks!
Granted, though, I think that he also exists deeply in the uncanny valley. We're not used to seeing people who are beautiful the way a ceramic doll might be, and these kinds of beauty removed from humanity are a common subject in horror for a reason.
And because I can't ever really separate my read on PK from a sense of compassion that this was a very miserable creature, this is where my personal read leans- he can stay on the "pretty, desirable" side of the uncanny, but only with effort and restricting his behaviors a lot. Hence me doing a gijinka take of him with a four-point mouth; imagine negotiating those hinges to make a sufficiently Nice, Human, Politically Polite smile. It'd be so difficult to manage, especially while speaking, that it'd be far more likely for him to do much what he's shown to do in canon- become a recluse that avoids people so the times you have to make a public appearance are a minimum and a few people are initiated to your circle where they get to see and deal with you all the time.
Part of this would even be rather simple and straightforwards- Hallownest is a setting where predator and prey dynamics coexist fully with sapience. There is a nonzero concern any stranger might eat you, and this probably factors into how warlike or predatory features are considered- size, claws and fangs. PK's mouthless plate of a face and seemingly smooth body as projected by his robes would seem doll-like in another sense- utterly bereft of predatory warning flags. His head-body proportions and sleek, unblemished appearance would invoke a child and we know the creatures of Hallownest care for their children by default- even the more brutal societies like Deepnest or the Mantis Lords.
But this utter lack of predation is an illusion. In reality, PK is not only a living organism actively feeding on worship and devotion, but the organism in question is a colossal entity whose true "face" is nothing but mouth and fangs, and a thickly armored body covered with spikes. Blades, and spikes, and methodical surgical torture are major motifs repeated throughout the palace and in other environments of PK's power. By implication, every part of him is a blade and him being easy on the eyes is the way that a parade sword can glitter so invitingly that any kid might want to pick it up, but if that parade sword is made with good steel and its twinkling gemstones real diamonds, it could still slice you to ribbons and probably won't seem so inviting afterwards.
A friend of mine @betterbemeta pointed out that my writings of him in Refuge For Resolve give him more than a passing resemblance to the figure of the King In Yellow, and I've always liked that one.
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casspurrjoybell-31 · 4 months
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The Consort's Will - Chapter 24 - Part 2
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*Warning Adult Content*
Brayden
"Can you hear me, Brayden?"
I give a curt nod.
She's quiet thereafter, most likely watching the Secondary guards between us for any indication they heard her as well.
Ever the hunter, she uses her intelligence as a weapon of her own, her instincts are keen.
Any slight change in body movement or physical response to her words will be cause enough to abandon her plan at communication.
Our feet shuffle across the dirt floor beneath us, each gate distinct from the other.
Tegan must have enough confidence in our anonymity because after a few beats of silence, she continues.
"They found the remaining members of Axel's followers, the leaders of the Vampire side of the war. They also have Fiona and Mark. Reyo's holding them captive, keeping them alive just long enough to determine their fates."
Kelly whimpers at the mention of Fiona's name.
In reaction, Tegan snarls, barking at him to keep up.
She's playing her part well.
Reyo continues to guide the way at the very front, seemingly oblivious to the fact that one of his most trusted advisors is unraveling away from him side.
Tegan's voice becomes softer, more muffled, as she presses her lips flush against Kelly's ear.
"He's going to ask both sides to surrender, with the terms that if they do, both sides must submit subservience to the Secondary population. But I don't trust he'll keep his word. Even if they agree, I anticipate he will kill them all."
I frown, playing out the scenario in my mind.
Tegan is right in her assessment that they will all be killed but it won't be now.
Reyo has shown himself to be quite the showman in times of warfare.
Whether they surrender or refuse, he will use either choice against them.
They will be killed in front of their own people, either as punishment for an act of defiance or as a token 'sacrifice' of good faith to keep each species in line.
She isn't telling me as a means to save their lives.
She doesn't care.
She is telling me to warn me of Reyo's true intentions, to become the ultimate leader of all three species.
To deem all Secondaries as most worthy, making humans and vampires alike slaves to their cause.
After seeing what will soon be a mass grave, our window of opportunity in throwing a coup is dwindling.
Even if we had numbers, we'd need the power of both sides.
Would they come together?
Would it be enough?
We come to an abrupt halt and are guided through a set of wooden, double doors.
The dimly lit room takes the form of a small dining hall, something intimate and recluse.
Perhaps the dining area for the highest of officials.
In another circumstance, I imagine this room makes for quite elegant affairs.
Now, however, they house the familiar faces of captives awaiting our arrival.
Seven individuals sit around the table with hands bound and mouths taped shut.
The vampires, Axel's followers, stare back at us with red eyes.
Their hunger is almost tangible.
They've been starved for quite some time.
Two of them even have a few bright gashes and deep bruises painted across their otherwise flawless skin.
They're not healing.
They've been starved and beaten, far worse than a human could know or experience.
Because of our ability to heal, abuse must be taken to a different level entirely if it's meant to leave behind a permanent scar.
Mark, two of his men and Fiona sit on the other side of the table.
All are equally as bruised and beaten but Mark seems to be the closest to death's door.
His face is terribly swollen.
I wouldn't recognize him had I not smelled his scent once before.
The humans reek of piss, blood and body odor.
The vampires smell worse.
They smell of coagulated blood and death.
"Sit, all of you," Reyo commands to the group of us filtering into the room.
He tightens his hold on my human and I feel his possessive touch workings its way around my wrist.
The two of them move to the head of the table and my human is forced to sit beside him.
My human, the deadliest weapon of them all.
I choose a seat beside one of Mark's followers, leaving room for Tegan to deposit Kelly beside me.
It's a silent request, one she picks up on without missing a beat.
She gives me nothing more than a warning glance before shoving Kelly towards the table.
I catch his frail body as it smacks against the wooden seat.
He wheezes from the pressure of pulling himself up,and my human's sadness fills the space inside me.
The sight unfolding before him is breaking him, so potent that I can nearly feel it in my veins.
Kelly slumps against me, his labored breathing coming out in staccato gasps.
Under the table I lay my hand atop his knee, giving him the only form of solace and comfort I know he will understand.
"Welcome, welcome. So good to have you all here," Reyo says.
Silence.
He clears his throat, waving away the lack of greeting as a matter of no importance.
"I assume by now you realize that the Secondary population, indeed, is still alive and thriving. More than that, I hope you see the mis-step of both sides."
He glances around the table, letting the silence build for dramatic effect.
"It's hatred," Reyo continues.
"My people have watched your species, both of your species for centuries, you know. We watched and waited, until one day, the hatred you harbored towards one another was enough to fuel a war.
For both of you, it was a chance at victory, a chance of freedom. But neither of you realized, you already had it.
You lived in peace with other another, blinded to the real threat, a population overlooked and kicked. Your creation, the Secondaries.
It took planning, mind you. Centuries of development, preparation, and training for this day. We needed to be ready, to be equipped for a massive overthrow of vampires and humans alike."
Reyo stands and gestures around the table.
"And now, I think I have made my point quite clear. And I bring you all hear not to brag or boast but to put an end to all of this madness, once and for all."
Tegan's hands tighten to fists at her sides and our prior conversation replays in my mind.
"I bring you here today to offer your surrender. Surrender to me, to my people and this will all be over. This nightmare, as you know it, will end."
Reyo leans his palms onto the table,and locks eyes with Mark, then to Axel's follower.
"So, what'll it be?"
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basingstokemercury · 9 months
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well that was an odd dream
either this time period or a post-apocalyptic version of it
Dukat was releasing Pah-Wraiths trying to get the crew possessed
(the crew included Sisko, Jadzia, Julian, Kira, probably Miles, and some lady called Alysa who kind of looked like Melora and somehow lived on our era's Earth despite clearly having face ridge things)
this got quite long, the rest after the cut
My dreams do tend to have a tendency of replaying the same story with slight variations trying to get it right so I got a few loops
Constants included:
Alysa getting turned (I assume because my subconscious knew she was disposable despite seamlessly tacking her onto the team ala SG-1 The Fifth Man)
Julian apparently getting possessed, causing the part of my brain watching this as a story to panic, but turns out he's a better actor than I gave him credit for and was pretending so he could switch sides
I think Jadzia also got turned once or twice she definitely got captured
Rough progression of events over the dream:
First repetition, I have no idea what to expect. I think I revolted so hard at the idea of Pah-Wraith!Julian that my subconscious had to retcon and go "not really". From then on I knew that whenever he seemed to have switched sides it was an act.
Except that it wasn't entirely an act, there was one loop where I got his viewpoint during the deception and he was fighting so hard to keep control of his body. I was very proud.
Then there was the time Dukat captured everyone and for some reason they were all tied up upaide down hanging from an empty swingset frame?
And he pulled Julian aside for 'special treatment' (ow)
And Sisko was like "why" and Dukat gave some nonsensical clearly wrong explanation
And Sisko realises this is payback for Cardassians (the episode)
At this point my brain thought I was watching the s7 finale and went "finally! they're acknowledging that Dukat ought to be resentful over that!"
And then there's the iterations where we're playing by D&D rules.
Dukat has been replaced by an evil wizard played by a sixtyish Christopher Lee (now that would have been an interesting casting, but I do love Marc Alaimo)
And Julian, as the team's magic healer, appears to have become his apprentice. He reads over a spell of great power, as the rest of the team lie almost defeated around the battlefield...
Surprise! It is a spell of great power, but the power is a healing one! It heals/gives some kind of advantage to everyone on the battlefield allied with the caster.
And we know who Julian's true allies are...
(I remember making a note to look up that spell because it wasn't familiar, must have been homebrew)
Even a spell that powerful could only do so much considering how dire the situation was, but they got away and hid.
Now, things get creative.
This campaign had a homebrew mechanic where a spellcaster out of spell slots can sacrifice some of their own HP to craft a healing potion in emergencies.
This very much was not supposed to be used more than once or twice. Because obviously, if you lose all your HP, well...
But Julian, the adorable idiot that he is sometimes, decided this was a desperate situation.
He was alone in the safehouse for a bit while the others scouted, and he used that time to put all his HP into healing potions.
All of it.
The cast must have been incredibly high level because he had 625 at this point (it made seventeen potions don't ask me how that maths works out)
And the crew come back to this kind of surrealist image of Julian lying there dying surrounded by the classic bright red healing potions.
I think at this point they insisted that he take one himself or something? Because when Dukat discovers the safehouse he's alone and can hardly move, but alive.
Cut to an online platform that's like if Tumblr had a Discordesque chat feature, Jadzia and Kira are shown as online, waiting to get a check-in from the teammate they had to leave behind.
Oh right! This is a D&D campaign!
And the person who likes playing healers? Me!
The person who likes Julian? Also me!
Ergo, the player behind the Julian Bashir PC?
I show up in this chat thing going "uh I'm dead what do I do now"
The weird thing is only I was a player using my online username, Jadzia and Kira seemed to still be themselves
So yeah my brain makes the oddest choices sometimes.
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notesfromastranger · 2 years
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To Know Without Truly Knowing, Faith
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I challenge you to discover your happy place.
A place that gives you butterflies. A place that feels like magic.
If you feel that this place may be found in the thickness of a forest, travel there. If you feel that this place has a salty taste to the air, then go. If you feel that the peaks of the mountains contain the wisdom that you seek, run.
Once you have found this place, you will know. You won’t think it, you will feel it.
Once you have found this place, return often.
I’m back! I came back! The little beach house with the dock. This weekend could not have come at a better time. Work stressed me out this week. The salt, the water, the cool breeze of October. Just what the doctor ordered. As I entered the home, I greeted it at the door. Hello house. I had a different feeling than the first time I stayed here. The first time was filled with anticipation and excitement and now it was the feeling of familiarity and comfort. I walked out to the dock and took a deep breath. The goal now was to get out of work mode and settle into island time.
The next morning I woke up not bright and very early. It was 7am and the sun had just started to make an orangy appearance which I could see in between sleepy blinks. I always wake up early here. I’m not sure if the uncomfortable bed is to blame or the excitement that builds when you realize that you’re gulf side.
I grabbed a jacket and headed to the dock to watch the sunrise with a cup of tea. I was present. Engaged with all of my senses. Also, did you know that seagulls stand on one leg when they’re still!? I had no idea until this morning.
No dolphins yet but I did get another unexpected guest. An older woman walked on to the deck and joined me. As she made her way over to the table and chairs she asked “are you doing yoga or on your phone or anything?” I thought this was interesting. She wanted to talk. Nothing about this conversation was superficial. I explained to her that I was here for the second time. The first time I came with my best friends and it was shortly after a break up. I had an amazing time and fell in love with the place but this time I wanted to visit solo. She told me how her family was from Georgia and that they had been here for a week and leaving this morning at 11. She talked about her daughter’s dating experiences and how dedicated and passionate she was about the church.
Her faith came to her when her first husband asked for a divorce. She was in tears asking the lord to show her what she should do. She grabbed the bible, opened it up, closed her eyes and pointed to a verse. Her face lit up with laughter when she was telling me this “how stupid right” she said. When she opened her eyes her finger was on a verse that read.. “But if the unbeliever leaves, let it be so. The brother or the sister is not bound in such circumstances; God has called us to live in peace.” She was shown her direction and she took it. She met her second husband when she was 35. They met at church and she fell in love with the way he spoke about his relationship with the lord “not his appearances” she carefully whispered as she looked for him. They had 3 kids together, and she had 1 from her previous marriage.
Her husband walked outside and I met him, as well as her youngest son. She called him her miracle baby because she asked for him and had him when she was 48 years old. As the conversation progressed her husband mentioned something about someone that I hadn’t heard her talk about yet. She looked at me with a heaviness to her now and said that they had lost their son when he was only 18 years old. She described him as a tall young man with a solid build. He was sweet and respectful and had a relationship with God that was similar to hers. He was the kind of kid that would say yes ma’am without talking back even when she was being snippy with him, she described. This boy, her son, had just said good-bye to his friends after a bible study on the night that he died. He took a backroad and went straight on a road that turned left. He crashed into a fence post and it went through the windshield and decapitated him. “If it would have been just any old fence post the car would have run it over but this one was sturdy and made well” she said as she got a little teary eyed. She explained how she was angry at God for a while and that she had cried many times on this dock this week. “Sometimes I'm okay and at peace with it and other times it’s hard. In these moments I ask God for my faith” she confessed. “Sometimes people don’t believe in someone upstairs who has a plan when these types of things happen, but that may just be because we can’t wrap our brains around it”. There was wisdom in this.
I felt honored that she had shared this vulnerable moment with me. It’s amazing how much I got to know about this beautiful stranger. She’s reminded me to keep my faith in the universe even when I feel like turning my back on it. Every experience whether positive or negative in nature develops the person that we are always becoming. We are never not becoming. We are always growing, adapting, changing and evolving. This perspective to me, makes life so interesting. There will always be challenges and obstacles and sometimes these will simply come from our own brains but there's so much beauty in arriving on the other side. Would life really be worth living if it were always easy? I’m not so sure.
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mntcoronet · 3 years
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oh noo not another "get everyone out of this on-fire building before time runs out," conveniently set up by the EXACT SAME GUY AS LAST GAME who REMEMBERS DOING THIS EXACT THING
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havin-a-wee · 3 years
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If Only She Knew
pairing: dad!harry x cheerleader!reader
word count: 4.2k
warnings: smut (fingering + unprotected sex), cheerleading position implies readers weight, 20 year age gap
hi! ive been having some really bad writers block but i wrote this and even though its def not my best work i like it enough to post it :) also, i totally didn't mean to imply the readers weight, i only realized afterwards, so im really sorry about that. also the age gap is kinda big, so if ur uncomfy with that you shouldn't read this <3
PLEASE REBLOG IF YOU ENJOY
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“Geez watch where you’re going!”
You don’t even look up at the girl, recognizing her nasally voice easily from how annoying it is. You were nose deep in a book while walking down the school hallway, and of course your worst enemy had to be walking down the same hallway, at the same time, in the opposite direction. You are both at fault for the collision, considering Ella had her eyes locked on her instagram feed. But knowing the girl, there is no way in hell that she will take any responsibility, even though you are the one who has coffee dripping down the front of your white blouse.
Since middle school, Ella Styles has always hated you. You have never known why, but she seems to have a vendetta against you, and tries her best to make your life miserable. You never let her, always refraining from giving her the explosive reaction that she was looking for. And that makes her hate you even more.
High school is over in 2 months, and although you are going to miss the freedom of being a child, you most definitely won’t miss the people from the tiny town you’ve lived in since you were young. You’ve always been the type of person to have a small friend group, only 4 people in your circle. But that’s how you like it, because crippling social anxiety makes it difficult for you to meet new people.
“I- sorry.” You still don’t look at her, instead peeling the soaking wet top off of your stomach.
“You better be sorry.” She flips her blonde hair, ensuring that the fluffy locks hit you right in the face. You are lucky this time seeing as she didn’t take it further, because sometimes she would purposely embarrass you after small incidents such as this one.
Tears well at your waterline and you run into the nearest bathroom, pushing open the blue door and locking yourself in a stall.
After all these years of torment, Ella rarely was able to get to you. But sometimes, she does something that pushes you off the edge, leaving you with red, tear-stained cheeks. The final straw this time was her ruining your brand new shirt, the one you were anxiously waiting to debut at school.
But now there was coffee dripping down your chest and staining the bright white fabric. Your only saving grace is the cheerleading uniform in your backpack. In fact, you were walking to the locker room to change for practice, and then for the game at 6 tonight.
You had been excited for the game, knowing that Friday night games always led to parties and fun afterwards. You rarely go to parties of course, but the buzzing energy never fails to rub off on you. But now that stupid Ella had to go and mess up your day, you’re dreading seeing her smug face while she asserts her dominance as cheer captain.
You untie your top and rip it off in a haste, frustrated tears running down your face periodically. You could’ve put a jacket on and gone to the locker room, but Ella would be going there soon, and the last thing you want to do is run into her with teary eyes. She can’t know that you let her get to you.
You brush your hands down your uniform, pulling down the skimpy costume and stuffing your old clothes in your backpack. Once out of the stall, you pull your hair up into a high ponytail, reapply your lip gloss and walk back into the hallway, having already done your makeup that morning. You’re happy that it’s a home game today, because the home game uniforms are two pieces and the skirts are smaller than the ones on the away game uniforms. There is a certain someone you are looking to impress, and the way your tits spill out from the top of the outfit will most certainly help you in your mission.
It’s not like you need to impress him, because he’s shown time and time again that he finds you sexy no matter what you wear. And when he doesn’t tell you, he shows you, by pressing his hard on up against your ass after you just woke up, despite your messy hair and bare face.
However, he also loves when you tease him. And that’s exactly what you’re planning to do.
You sling your heavy backpack over one shoulder and trudge down the hallway, the old fluorescent lights practically blinding you on your journey. The locker room is dingy, smelling of cheap soap and Victoria’s Secret perfume. At least it doesn’t smell like the boys locker room, which smells like sweat and more sweat.
It's already bustling with people, your teammates scrambling to get ready in time as to not get yelled at by the coach.
“Y/N!” The familiar shout of your best friend Rose is like a breath of fresh air, and you bound over to her. She’s standing in front of your lockers, the two of you obviously picking ones next to each other. “Wait, why are you already changed?”
“The bitch spilled her coffee all over me,” you grumbled, your eyes shifting over to where Ella and her little goons are giggling.
“I keep telling you, anytime you want me to beat her up I will gladly do it.”
“Not that I doubt your abilities Rose, because I know you would have her on the ground in a heartbeat, but I can’t let you do that. She can’t know that she upsets me.” You lower your voice for the second sentence, irrationally fearing that she can hear you over the loud chatter echoing through the room.
“I still think you should let me beat her up, but you do you I guess.” Rose shrugged her shoulders and turned back to her locker, bursting out into laughter with you after a beat of silence.
The rest of the getting ready process goes smoothly, Rose distracting you from the girl side-eyeing you in the corner. Soon enough, the whole squad was in formation outside, and you have your hands on the shoulders of Rose and another girl named Bethany. You are a flyer, meaning that you’re the one who the bases support while you pose and flip in the air. Its a hard job, but you are one of only three girls on the team who is advanced enough at flying to be safe doing it in routines. One of the other three girls is Ella.
Ella is the flyer for the middle group, seeing as she is the captain. You are on the right and the other group is on the left. Luckily, Rose is a base in your group, so you feel a lot better putting your safety in the hands of someone you already trust with your life.
“ELLA! YOU’RE DOING IT WRONG!” Coach Habbiths voice is piercing, her angry shrieks bouncing off your ear drums. Ella audibly huffs, displaying her frustration with the critiques she has been receiving since we learned the routine weeks ago. That’s one of the biggest problems with Ella, she believes that she's always right.
Every single practice she has done a needle instead of a scale at the end of the routine. It's aggravating for everyone, and that frustration is amplified everytime she makes the same mistake over and over. “Alright, everyone down. group 1 and group 3 take five, Ella and group 2 stay on the field.
The team obliged to her instructions, and you are brought down from the air.
“Okay Ella, I want you to watch how Y/N does the last move, because she’s actually doing it correctly.” Coach is standing in front of you now, and she emphasized the word ‘correctly’. This is much to Ella’s dismay, and much to your excitement.
Nothing brings you more joy than seeing Ella’s face when you one up her, and this time is no exception.
Aside from a few eye rolls and nasty looks, Ella corrects the move without much fuss. By now there's 15 minutes until the game, and the players have been warming up on the field for about half an hour.
“Did you see her face!” Rose tugs on your arm while you walk back to the locker room, water bottles in hand.
“I know! I should’ve taken a picture!”
“We can only hope that it knocked her ego down a peg.”
“I doubt it” Rose nodded in agreement and you continued your chatter, talking about the random things that best friends talk about.
“It’s go time ladies!” You jumped in surprise when Coach Habbiths yelling booms through the locker room, the hefty amount of metal in the room enhancing the echo.
In a blur, your entire team rushed out onto the field, the crisp air cooling your warmed skin. There was a huge crowd. probably the biggest the teams ever had. But that makes sense, because this game was against your school's biggest rival. Luckily, despite the huge crowd you were able to lock eyes with those piercing green irises you have gotten to know so well over the past couple months. Everytime you see him he gets more and more attractive, and this time is no exception.
At this point, the teams routine is muscle memory and you’re done with it before you can blink. Most people would think that being thrown in the air is memorable, but your main concern is the growing wet patch on your panties that spreads each time you squeeze your thighs together. Just the thought of the man is enough to turn you on, and now that you’re sitting on the cold metal bench your imagination has time to go wild.
The only thing that snapped you out of your daze was the eruption of appaulause from the audience, and the realization that the other cheerleaders were standing up and running towards the players. You breath out a sigh of relief, recognizing the cheering as a signal that the game has ended.
“Hey, you coming?” Rose tugs on your arm, looking down at you still on the bench.
“Um, actually I don’t feel so well, I think I’m going to go home.”
“I should’ve known. You know, one day you’re going to have to go to a party.” Rose places her hands on her hips, giving you a sarcastically annoyed stare.
“And today is not that day.” You grab your backpack and sling it over your shoulder, turning back to Rose for a second. “Have fun and be safe.”
“I always do.” Rose places a chaste kiss on your cheek before turning back to the gathering crowd on the turf.
Instead of heading to the sidewalk and walking home, you duck under the bleachers and walk down the gravel path, pushing open the fence that separates the field and the school. The contents of your backpack slosh around while you sway your hips as you walk. Finally, you make it to the back wall of the school, leaning your back against it and plopping your heavy backpack down by your feet.
And now you wait.
Much to your convenience, the wait this time isn’t long, only five minutes passing before you see the familiar man following the same path you did earlier.
He has a pair of brown slacks on, pressing against his waist courtesy of his black belt. A button up white shirt hides the tattoos on his stomach, but he's rolling up his sleeves as he walks over to you. He's walking with intention, hungry eyes zeroed in on you.
When he’s only steps away, you cheekily bite your lip and use your finger to push up your skirt a little bit more.
Your actions have the intended effect, his eyes blowing wide and hands grasping at your waist.
“Y’can’t do that.”
Before you have a chance to ask what he means, his lips collide with yours, his tongue slipping in only moments after the initial kiss. But as soon as he started, he pulls away.
“Y’can’t be teasing me on the field like tha’, had me hard next t’my friends.” His hand is on the wall above your head, and his other arm is wrapped around your waist pulling you into his chest. He’s panting, and you are too.
“Sorry Mr. Styles,” you push your bottom lip out in a pout, giving him the most innocent look possible. “Just wanted to wear it cause I know how much you like it.”
“Aw, my babygirl wore this f’me? Well I guess y’can be forgiven. Now let’s get t’my house before I fuck yeh right on this wall.” He places a soft kiss to your lips picking up your backpack from the floor and turning to the direction of his car.
“But it hurts!” He turns around again, giving you a sympathetic look and caressing your cheek. The rings on his fingers are cold, but you’re used to the feeling.
“I know sweet girl, but I can’t take care of yeh here, s’too risky.” He pauses for a moment, thinking of a solution to your not so little problem. “How bout I give y’my fingers in the car? Hows that sound hm?” You nod eagerly, pulling his hand down from your cheek and holding it. He takes the signal and begins walking to his car while you follow him.
You never planned to sleep with your bullies dad. But a few months ago your parents dragged you to a family friends housewarming party, and that friend happened to be a friend of Harry’s too. There were no other teenagers there, so your focus was on the attractive older man who had been checking you out since you first locked eyes, and after ending up in the upstairs bathroom together the two of you have been fucking at least twice a week. You only learned that he’s a dad when you saw him for the first time outside the party. He didn’t look the part, and you actually thought he was in his 20s until he corrected you. He’s 38, having become a parent at only 20 years old. Your relationship is a bit taboo, but you’re a mature 18 year old and you and Harry get along well. So well that your time together has developed from casual sex to a mutually exclusive relationship. (Neither of you like labels, but you’re basically boyfriend and girlfriend).
He makes you really happy, and when you have to face off against Ella, it helps knowing that you have power over her, even though she doesn’t know it.
“Did she do anything today?” Harry is walking beside you, hands still intertwined.
“Besides spilling coffee on my shirt, nothing much.” Harry sighs in frustration and squeezes your hand as a show of affection.
“M’so sorry, I wish y’didn’t ‘ave to deal with her.”
The thing about Harry and Ella is they can barely be considered family. Ella’s mom is, for lack of a better word, a bitch. She’s snobby, conceited, and rude, and those behaviors have rubbed off on Ella. Another thing that rubbed off on her was her mom’s hatred for Harry. Being young parents put strain on their already struggling relationship, and they split before Ella’s first birthday. Harry said he tried his best to make it work for Ella’s sake, but her mom was looking for someone to pay for her life, and Harry had just started working his way up as a businessman.
Now, he’s a CEO, but luckily Ella’s mom already found a new beau with plenty of money, so she didn’t come crawling back to him. However, the success Harry achieved only a few years after their breakup made her jealous, and so she instilled that anger in their daughter. So currently Ella spends most of her time with her mother, and when she is with Harry she doesn’t treat him kindly.
“It’s not your fault Harry, you don’t have to apologize for her actions.”
“I know, I jus’ hate tha’ she treats yeh like that.” He sighs again, reaching into his pocket to grab his keys. In a few more steps you’re standing outside the sleek black suv, walking around to the passenger seat and sliding in once you hear the click of the door unlocking.
You both take a few seconds to breathe, an unspoken gesture to prepare for the night's events. Harry turns to you, a sexy smirk plastered on his face. “What d’ya think about fixin’ that ache darlin?” You nod eagerly, sliding down a bit in your seat to give your legs room to spread. “Think yeh can take off y’skirt fo’me?” Your head bobs once again as you nod, hooking your fingers under the elastic waistband and shimmying out of the skirt. While you’re doing that, Harry turns the car into the deserted street, using only one hand to steer.
You toss the tiny skirt into his lap, giving him a signal without distracting his eyes from the road. He reacts immediately, his free hand coming down to squeeze your thigh. You mewl at the contact and bite down on your lip, trying to stop your hips from bucking up in search of relief. His squeezes move up your thigh, and finally his fingers press against your weeping cunt. Swiftly, he pushes your soiled panties to the side, swiping his fingers up your folds collecting your juices. You shriek and buck your hips up into his hand, but much to your dismay he removes it from between your thighs. The car comes to a stop at a red light, and Harry takes the moment to look at you, his eyes wandering your squirming body. He’s practically drooling when he places his fingers in his mouth, tasting your sweet wetness.
“Sorry pup, jus’ needed t’taste yeh.” He chuckles again, and you whine softly in desperation. In one quick motion, he dives his hand back to your pussy, pressing his thumb on your swollen clit.
“Fuck!” The pleasure shoots up your spine, goosebumps raising across your body as he rubs circles on the puffy button. “Harry- please,”
“What d’ya want puppy? Want m’fingers?”
“Yes, yes,” you breathe out, words barely comprehensible through your panting.
“Alright, alright, I gotcha.” And with that his two fingers press into you, filling your tight hole perfectly. There is no hesitation before he begins pumping the digits in and out of you and his thumb never lets up on your bundle of nerves. “Such a needy puppy, got yeh soaking f’me from out in the stands hm?” His eyes are still on the road, but you can picture the lust filled eyes that are undoubtedly on his face.
“Get so wet jus- just thinkin’ about you,” you gasp, writhing as his fingers slam in and out of you.
“Yeah? This is my cunt, m’the only one who can make yeh this wet, isn’t tha’ right?”
“Only Harry.” At your confirmation he speeds his hand up, your vision clouding with white spots as the knot building in your stomach grows tighter and tighter.
All of a sudden, he pulls his fingers out of you, leaving you empty. “Wha-” You begin to question him but you realize that he’s pulling into his driveway. Instead of complaining, you sit up quickly and unbuckle your seatbelt, pulling your skirt back up your legs to avoid being nude on his front lawn.
As soon as you feel the little jolt your hand yanks on the handle and you hop out of the car. Your brain is fuzzy with need and all you are focused on is alleviating the aching between your thighs. You hear Harry lock the car while you're on the steps, and you turn back to ensure that he’s behind you. And sure enough, he’s hot on your trail, just as eager as you to get inside and onto his bed. Your foot is tapping on the ground anxiously, waiting for Harry to unlock the front door. After what seems like an hour, he is next to you again, fumbling with the silver keychain in his hand, eventually unlocking and pushing open the door. You both practically run inside, hands roaming each other's bodies and lips locking as you shuffle through the hall.
You disconnect breathlessly when you reach the stairs, subconsciously wrapping your hands around Harry’s neck so he can pick you up bridal style. He does so hastily, barely a second passing before he’s plopping you onto the fluffy mattress. “Finally,” he pants, hands fumbling with his belt buckle. There’s a prominent bulge in his trousers, and although you’ve seen it plenty, you are always in awe at how thick and big he is. While he’s busy removing his clothes, you are practically drooling at the sight of his bare cock, full, heavy, and dripping precome.
“Harry?”
He looks back down at you with his emerald green eyes, simultaneously dropping his recently-removed shirt on the floor. “Can I ride you?” The look he gives you is indescribable, a mixture of need, lust, cockiness, and beauty all rolled up into one.
“Whatever y’want puppy,” His hands scoop under your ass, and he lifts you up and switches your positions. Now it’s your turn to undress, and Harry makes himself busy by running his hands up and down your torso. “So gorgeous, y’know that?” You nod quickly then pull your shirt off of your head. “Most beautiful girl in the world I reckon.” You blush at the compliment, butterflies being added to the many sensations occuring in your body. You straddle his thighs, wrapping your hand around his length and tugging a few times. A loud groan rumbles through his throat, and you smile knowing you’re the one who made him feel like that. “Thought- thought yeh said y’wanted to ride me pup.”
“I do.” You keep your hand on his cock, sitting up on your knees and lining him up with your weeping cunt. All at once, your body is put at ease as his cock fills you up perfectly. He bottoms out inside of you, both of you moaning and groaning while you adjust. “So big-” Your words come out in choppy pants, the syllables being cut off by your heaves. You suck in one deep breath and move upwards, sinking back down onto him quickly. His large hands hold a tight grip on your waist, guiding you up and down his member. His lips attach to your neck, suckling on the supple skin just enough so that it doesn’t bruise.
“What a dirty little puppy you are,” he growls, eyes focusing heavily on where your bodies connect, watching himself disappear inside of you as you bounce up and down on his cock.
“Feel so full-” Tingles ricochet down every part of your body, and your legs are becoming weaker with each movement. Harry can feel your movement faltering, so his hips thrust upwards to meet yours, fucking you from underneath. “Harry!”
“I know pup, I know.” His thumb strokes your cheek and he leans in for another kiss, devouring your plump lips and swirling his tongue around yours. “So fuckin tight,” The words tumble from his mouth in a low growl, which sends the butterflies in your stomach into a frenzy. His cock twitches inside of you, encouraging you to muster all your energy and finish both of you off. Adrenaline kicks in and your strength returns, riding him faster and harder than before. “Let go f’me Y/N.” It only takes a few more thrusts for you to come undone, Harry’s orgasm following suit. The waves of pleasure roll through your body, and you throw your head back in ecstasy as you allow the feeling to overcome your body. Spurts of his hot cum cover your velvety walls and you ride out your orgasms together, resting your foreheads against one another.
You end up sleeping at his house, feeling safe knowing that Ella is staying with her mom today. It’s normal for you to sleep at his place, seeing as both of you are usually so tired that you pass out before you can leave. What isn’t normal is for you to be woken up in the morning by Harry’s phone ringing. Harry is a deep sleeper, and you laugh at the sight of him conked out while his ringtone blares on the nightstand just a few inches away. Carefully, you reach over his sleeping body and grab the phone, planning on hanging it up and going back to bed. However, when you saw that it was Ella calling, you changed your mind. Making a split second decision, you slide the icon to the right, holding it up to your ear.
“Hello?” Her whiney voice rings through your eardrum and you wince. Not the nicest thing to be woken up to.
“Hello,” you answer, your voice not reflecting the cocky grin that spread across your face.
“Who the hell is this!” she shrieks, and you make a mental note that she must not be a morning person.
“A friend of your dads.” Your response is once again calm and monotone, trying to stifle the laugh that is bubbling in your throat.
“Ugh! What’s your name?”
“Y/N. Y/N Y/L/N”
938 notes · View notes
engie-ivy · 3 years
Text
Yes, he's in the hospital and doesn't remember anything about himself, but it's actually not that bad. His memories are sure to come back in a matter of days, and until then, he can spend time eating, sleeping, reading, daydreaming about that ridiculously attractive Healer...
(The aim is Funny and Fluffy Wolfstar)
It's Like the First Time
“Everything seems to be in order,” the Healer Trainee, Aubrey, says. “As we expected. How’s the dizziness?”
“When I’m laying down, it doesn’t bother me,” he replies.
“That’s good,” Aubrey smiles. “The dizziness and light-headedness should gradually disappear over the upcoming days, and then the memories will come back after.”
He nods. He’d be more worried about all his memories being gone if the Healers at St Mungo’s weren’t so certain they’ll all come back in a matter of days. Dizziness, light-headedness, and amnesia; it’s a familiar picture when being hit with a Confundo-charm from a defective wand, which the Healers have encountered many times before and has apparently happened to him during some friendly duelling.
It’s always the same picture: the dizziness and light-headedness slowly lessening, and the memories all coming back at once after two to at most five days. Like, one moment you know nothing, and the next you remember everything.
Well, he doesn’t exactly know nothing. His semantic memory is intact, meaning he has basic knowledge and remembers facts and skills. He knows he’s a wizard, he knows the hospital is called St Mungo’s Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries, he knows the people in the lime green robes are the Healers, he knows that since he’s a wizard he probably went to Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry, and he knows perfectly well how to perform a wide variety of charms, jinxes, hexes and curses. (So luckily those years at Hogwarts weren’t for nothing)
What he doesn’t know is anything about himself. His episodic memory, memory for any kind of life events, is completely gone. Who he is, what he does, what he has done, who he knows, it’s all gone. His own mum could walk into the room, and he’d think she was the laundry lady. (Luckily, she seemed like a very nice lady, and had thought it rather funny)
The only thing he knows about himself, not because he remembers, but because it’s the only thing they told him, is that he’s someone named Remus Lupin. Apparently, in the past, trying to fill in the gaps has proven to be more frustrated than helpful for the patient and, as the memories will come back on their own anyway, quite unnecessary. Therefore, they don’t tell him much else, and all he can do is wait.
Past experience has also shown that the patient often finds it quite stressful, and even frightening, to be surrounded by lots of people who all know him, and whom he feels like he should recognize, but doesn’t. Therefore, friends and family are only allowed in limited numbers, one new person a day, which started with his mum.
His mum had brought him his favourite novel, saying that he read it so many times, and would always wish he could erase it from his memory just so he could read it again with the same sense of anticipation. Well, she had figured this was his chance. Now, all he can do is lie in bed, read his book, and eat food, which is... Well, pretty great actually.
He doesn’t have anything to worry about. How can he worry about anything if he doesn’t remember anything? It’s like having a little break from life and all its expectations and responsibilities. (Though the fact that he’s so happy about having no worries, makes him think that this Remus Lupin normally worries quite a lot)
When a Healer comes to see him, he suddenly knows something else about himself: he’s very, very gay.
The Healer has a classic, aristocratic beauty to him, with his sharp cheekbones and full lips, and his eyes are of a clear grey, that appears silver, which contrasts quite nicely with the strands of raven black hair that have fallen from the messy bun on top of his head. And no one has the right to look that good in lime green robes, which he fills out pretty well with his lean, muscular body.
The Healer gives him a soft smile, and really, if he smiles at all his patients like that, the whole hospital must be diagnosed with palpitations. “How’re you feeling?” the Healer asks in a warm, deep voice.
He wonders whether his semantic memory has failed him after all, as he suddenly seems to have forgotten how speaking works. “Erm...” he says, very eloquently.
The Healer frowns, and looks at Aubrey. “Isn’t the confusion supposed to be gone by now?”
Aubrey looks from the Healer to him and back to the Healer, while a knowing smile appears on her face. “Don’t worry,” she tells the Healer. “He has been perfectly responsive and coherent all day.”
“Has he had some Anti-Confusion Concoction?”
“He’s had a small dose, as the confusion was already wearing off on his own.”
“Are you going to give him Memory Potion?” the Healer continues his questioning.
Aubrey shakes her head. “We have already given him Mandrake Restorative Draught against the spell’s physical effects. Adding Memory Potion might make the dose of Stewed Mandrake too high. As we can be certain all memories will come back on their own, it isn’t worth the risk.”
The Healer nods thoughtfully. “So only a daily dose of Restoration Potion until all effects have subsided, I assume?”
“Yes,” Aubrey agrees. “Based on past experience, that’ll in all likeliness be sufficient.”
The Healer turns his head back to him, and that soft smile is back in place. He opens his mouth to speak, but right at that moment, a bright flash can be seen, and a gazelle made out of shining white light is standing in front of them.
“I’m so sorry to disturb on a moment like this,” a stressed-sounding voice of a young woman comes from the Patronus, that is directing itself to the Healer. “But you’re needed back at the HADA department immediately! We’re having an emergency.”
The Healer curses under his breath. He takes a step towards the door, but then stops to look back at him with a pained expression.
“He’s in good hands,” Aubrey says.
The Healer nods. “I’ll be back as soon as I can,” he tells him, before hurrying out the door.
Though his mum was right, and the novel is really good, he has trouble focusing on it from that moment on. He’s constantly interrupted by thoughts of bright, silver-grey eyes. Merlin, he’s seen the guy once, and he’s acting like a twelve-year-old with a crush!
Telling himself off for it doesn’t stop him from looking up hopefully the moment he catches a glimpse of lime-green robes. It’s quite a disappointment when the Healer that walks in to check his vitals is a greying, grumpy man with a face that seems to be twisted in a permanent scowl. Asking him where the good-looking Healer went to seems kind of impolite though, so he just sits and nods whenever the Healer grumbles something unintelligible.
“So, why have I gotten a different Healer?” he asks Aubrey later, trying to sound casual.
“Different Healer?” she asks, not understanding.
“Yeah,” he says, feeling to his great annoyance that his cheeks begin to flush. “There was this older man checking up on me, while before, there was the young man with the broad shoulder, shining dark hair, sweet smile, pretty eyes...” He trails off.
“Oh!” Understanding, and a not insignificant amount of amusement, appear on Aubrey’s face. “Oh, he wasn’t not your Healer, sweetie! He was visiting.”
“Ah,” he sighs disappointedly. So the Healer had only been here for some sort of second opinion, and he probably won’t be back. It was too good to be true, to have a Healer like that around as a nice distraction.
“Healer Black works for the Healing Against the Dark Arts Department,” Aubrey continues.
“You know him?” he asks.
“I know of him. But honestly,” she adds with a wink. “Everyone working at St Mungo’s knows of Healer Black!”
He chuckles. “I suppose he cannot not catch your eye.”
“It’s not just his appearance,” Aubrey says. “Healer Black is the leading expert on healing Dark Arts-related injuries and combating curses from the Dark Arts. He has invented novel Healing Spells and revolutionized the protocol for treating curses. Healers from all over the world consult him on their cases, and patients come to see him from all over the world.”
“Wow...” he sighs again, but this time it’s a more wistful sigh. He doesn’t even care anymore that he sounds like a love-struck teenager. Maybe Aubrey will write it off as a side-effect of the Confundo-charm. He briefly wonders about that himself, but as those bright, silver-grey eyes come to mind again, he knows he’s under a whole different kind of spell.
“Yeah,” Aubrey smiles. “He’s quite a remarkable man.”
“So I guess I won’t be seeing him again then,” he says dejectedly, letting his head hang. He wonders why they’d sent that Healer to come see him in the first place, as he surely must’ve had better things to do.
He hears a choked noise besides him, and he looks up at Aubrey, who seems to be stifling a laugh, with her hand pressed against her mouth. “Don’t worry, love,” she says with obvious amusement in her voice. “I’m sure you’ll be seeing more of him.”
The young man sitting next to his bed has been talking about his wife and their baby for an hour straight. Though it really isn’t so bad. His stories are quite amusing, and the man is very charismatic. He has sparkling eyes, and hair so messy, he had immediately checked whether it wasn’t storming outside when the man had entered. He has a disarming smile and a contagious laugh, and is surprisingly easy to talk to. He says his name is James Potter, and he’s Remus Lupin’s best friend.
He has to give Remus Lupin a pat on the back for having made such a nice friend. Honestly, the idea of socializing with new people, trying to make friends, does not appeal to him, and he’s glad to know Remus already has them.
“And I just went to see Sirius,” James says. “Well, more like I was speed walking next to him in the two minutes he had to get from one room to another. He still managed to apologize twenty times though. Normally, I’d say he should be sorry, but the poor guy seems to hardly have any time to eat or sleep.” James shakes his head. “Did you hear what happened? Three children were playing in the woods, and they must’ve accidentally touched an unknown cursed object. They were brought in barely conscious and with a mother completely beside herself. So of course, ‘the widely renowned and highly acclaimed, capable-of-the-impossible Healer Black’ was the only one who might save them. And he has, as they seem to be recovering,” James adds, relieved. “But really, there aren’t many excuses that would justify him not being here, but having to save children’s lives is definitely one of them.”
“Thank Merlin those children are alright. That sounds- Wait,” he says, before sitting up. “Healer Black? You know Healer Black?”
James blinks at him. “Ehm... Yeah?”
“Merlin, that man is so handsome!” he exclaims. “He was here for like two minutes, before he got called away to other patients, but I just can’t stop thinking about him! He already looks perfect, and now you’re telling me that he’s some kind of miracle Healer saving children’s lives?” He sighs. “It’s just not fair.”
At first, James still looks confused. Then his eyes widen in understanding, and his mouth starts twitching like he’s trying to hold back laughter.
He doesn’t blame him. He’d laugh at himself too, with how ridiculous he’s been acting over this random Healer. He just hopes he won’t have embarrassed Remus Lupin too much once his memories have returned.
“Don’t worry,” James says, in an amused voice. “Healer Black will come back as soon as he has the time.”
Now, his own eyes widen. “You really think he’d come to see me again?”
James lets out a strangled noise and starts coughing, which he strongly suspects being a laugh quickly covered up by a cough. “Yes,” James replies, suppressed laughter still sounding through in his voice. “I really think so.”
He knows it’s rather pathetic, but as he’s got nothing better to do, he did it anyway. He practiced what he’s going to say to Healer Black when, or if, he comes back.
He’ll tilt his head slightly downwards, so he’ll look up at the man through his lashes, and then he’ll give him a coy smile, while softly saying ‘Healer Black. It’s so good to see you again. I’ve heard many great things about you, and what you did for those children is truly admirable.’ Luckily, flirting seems to fall under semantic memory.
However, when the moment comes that Healer Black enters the room again, his carefully constructed plan falls apart.
At first, he’s stunned that yes, Healer Black really looks like that, and he hasn’t made it better in his head. Alright, the man has bags under his eyes, his robes are rumpled, and his hair is slightly greasy and so much strands are peaking out of his bun, making it look more messy than what would qualify as a normal messy bun, but he still looks like the most beautiful person in the world. He doesn’t even notice Aubrey and James walk in after Healer Black.
He opens his mouth to deliver his carefully practiced lines, but the words die in his throat as Healer Black... Well, flings himself at him. He literally splays out on top of him, hugging him close and pressing his face in the crook of his neck. “I missed you so much,” Healer Black murmurs against his skin.
He freezes. Yes, he has forgotten quite a lot, but he’s still pretty sure this is not the standard operating procedure for Healers to greet their patients. “Erm...” He says, once again ever so eloquently.
Healer Black lifts his head and looks up at him in confusion, but he can’t possibly be more confused than he’s feeling.
James scrapes his throat. “Remus, may I introduce you to Healer Sirius Black-Lupin, your husband?”
“So neither one of you decided to tell him?” Healer Black has crossed his arms over his chest and is glaring at Audrey and James.
“I’m sorry, Healer Black!” Aubrey squeaks. “I know I should’ve told him, but it was just too cute, watch him be all smitten with his own husband.”
He isn’t really listening. He’s openly staring at Healer Black. Apparently, he bloody married the guy, so it’s allowed, right?
“I don’t know how you pulled this off, Remus Lupin,” he whispers under his breath. “But thank you, and kudos to you, mate, kudos to you.”
As he looks at Healer Black up and down (at some point he’ll really have to stop referring to his husband as Healer Black, probably), he suddenly really wishes for his memories to come back fast, as there are some things he’d really like to remember.
Though on the other hand, he thinks, biting his lip, maybe ‘Healer Black’ won’t mind freshening up his memory in the meantime?
“Ugh,” Remus groans, hiding his face against Sirius’ chest. “I can’t believe I was practically drooling over you!”
Sirius chuckles while he’s rubbing soft circles on Remus’ back. “You were cute.”
As a reply, Remus just groans again.
“I’m sorry, though,” Sirius says, suddenly quietly. “It wouldn’t have happened if I had been by your side as I was supposed to be.”
Remus lifts up his head to look at Sirius. “Hey, none of that! You were saving lives.” He presses a quick kiss to his husband’s lips. “You wouldn’t have wanted to be anywhere else, and I wouldn’t have wanted you to be anywhere else.”
Sirius smiles softly at him, and Remus lays his head back on his chest. “Besides, it was a good reminder that I should be more proud of my accomplishment to get Healer Black to marry me.”
Sirius barks a laugh, that Remus can feel vibrating in his chest. “And how exactly was me down on one knee practically begging you to become my husband ‘you getting me to marry you’?”
Remus smiles fondly, happy that that memory is safely back in his head. “And it was nice to feel like having a new crush again,” he continues. “ All exhilarated, enraptured, and in awe.”
“Oh, Moony,” Sirius sighs, pressing a kiss to the top of Remus’ head. “I feel like that every time I look at you.”
385 notes · View notes
thefanbasewhore · 3 years
Text
“Mine.”
Summary: Din says goodbye to reader and Grogu but once they are reunited Din has mixed feels about the situation, jealous of Luke.
Warning/content: Angst, Jealous!Din, fighting between Din and Luke and reader and Din, Jedi!Reader. Din accuses reader of cheating. Nothing too spicey unless you guys would like a second part ? But would recommend 18+, Season 2 spoilers 
Paring: Din Djarin/Female Reader
Master list. || Part 2. 
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There's a shift on tension in the room, it didn't go unnoticed much like the feeling of your own heart breaking. It's breaking for Grogu, for Din, your Mandolorian, who stands tall, strong despite the crushing feeling inside his chest. He's helmetless in a room full of people for the first time ever willingly, he does it for the boy, the child he loves.
It's the first time you see his face, his hair is messy but it's cute, brown in color with small ringlets that curl against the base of his neck, his eyes are expresso brown, smooth curve of his nose is small but prominent, lips pink and form the perfect pout, small hairs from his mustache curling across his top lip. He is so incredibly handsome, but your sorrow won't let you see that, there is no time to think about. The child presses a soft touch against his square jaw, in his own way of saying, "I see you."
This makes tears even well up in your own eyes as he looks over Din's shoulder, reaching out for you. The last thing you expect when Din head turns over his shoulder to look at you are the matching tears. It's hard to stop, squeezing his eyes shut as he bites his bottom lip, chewing at it nervously. 
The two strides it takes to finally reach them is like the longest walk of your life, your head rests against the Mandalorian's chest piece as you take the small guy into your arms, squeezing him close. The sob that falls from your lips doesn't go unnoticed as Din presses his large, gloved hand to your back, rubbing it in comfort. "Be good, little one." It's whispered as you hold him cheek to cheek. "You're going to do so well."
"Don't be afraid." Din's fingers find the child, placing him on the ground, knowing well you wouldn't be able to.
Grogu's eyes met yours with confusion as the Jedi picks him up. There's an unknown feeling within you, almost like you can feel his sadness but also excitement of learning once again. It makes you worried as his eyes peer at you, head tilting to the side. He's trying to tell you something, but you just can't hear it.
It isn't strong, actually you like to think your connection to the force as a small, annoying dangling thread stuck to the bottom of someone's boot that is always there, no matter how much they pull or prod it just falls through fingers but then again you never had a chance to learn from anyone.
All eyes are on you, breaking from your trance like thought as to look up to meet Din's eyes then Luke's, realizing they were directed towards you. "Did you say something?"
"Are you coming too?" Luke's words make you confused, eyebrows narrowing with a frown. The thought alone is enough to feel a ball in your throat, despite the words you’ve spoken, his intensions were clear from the start. 
 “You need training too." Din's hand stiffens against your lower back, chest momentarily at a pause as he realizes what is happening. He knew about this, even though you were clueless of what the force is, you knew it was in you, had told him and Ashoka questioned it about it only days ago. Never had he thought he'd loose both of the people that mean the most to him on the same day, it was almost..unbearable. A pregnant silence falling between everyone, Din can’t speak, he pauses, words trembling in his throat as he looks to you with pouty eyes.
Eyes meet Din's, shaking your head pressing yourself deeper into his chest. A familiar place that was warm, safe, How could you ever leave him? "No, I'm staying here."
"Go." Din urges, the hand applying just enough pressure toward the Jedi, trying to explain his words, it was okay. His flushes his own forehead against yours as he tilts your face towards his own, kissing the hair line softly. "Don't let me stop you, you need training."
"But --."
"I'll see you again, I swear by it." He promises, hands cup your cheeks, bringing your lips to his own. Fresh, new tears slip past both of sets of eyes. Goodbyes were never easy but necessary, destiny has written it long ago and Din Djarin of all people knows that. The kiss is soft, but you can't seem to pull yourself away pressing a few more in their wake. The movement of his arms wrapping around your waist lifts your feet from the ground as he hugs you close. Lips tickle your ear as he whispers, "I'll see you soon sweet girl, don't forget how strong you are."
"I love you." It's the first time the words are said, while his heart squeezes in joy, but mouth dries at the words he's always wanted to hear, he wishes you never said them, it makes good bye so much harder.
"I love you." He answers back truthfully, using the back of his hand to wipe the sizzling trail of tears from his cheek as you step away. Grogu reaches out almost instantly for his mother, the familiarity is more comforting then the stranger’s arms. You follow the Jedi when reaching the loft and turn around waving at your Mandalorian one more time. Din can't find himself to return it, shoulders leaning forward compensating for the pain he feels in his heart. It's heavy, putting all of his trust into one man but at least you and Grogu had each other.
-
You are barely able to suppress the shriek that is mumbles against your lips as the base of Luke's foot comes in contact with your chest, pushing you from the advantage you finally gained. While you try to reach for him he’s too fast, too skilled as he swiftly moves from the counter attack.
"Ugh!" The sound ripples from your raw throat as the pair circle each other, waiting for the next move, lightsabers in the air, it's a waiting game. "Stop doing that it's not fair!"
"Why isn't it fair? You left it open. Do better."
You huff, "I have boobs! Well who knows anymore? After that."
The last few months have not only been the most terrifying of your life but also the most exciting, borderline exhilarating. At first it wasn’t noticeable, arms would ache for holding the saber in the air for a few minutes but with every passing day it became lighter and lighter until you moved with uttermost swiftness, the saber a feather in your hands. Never had you thought you would love to fight, being able to finally control the owner within. Luke had become family, taking you in and helping you. It has been quite difficult, Luke was a perfectionist at best, he was not happy unless everything was done right, which once made you sore and cry, but looking back at it now, you have mastered so much. The amount of long hours of sitting at the table trying to pass a stupid apple back and forth, learning to be silent, trying to sneak up on an opponent but now it’s easy, all thanks to Luke but still to this day you can't even look at an apple, let alone eat it.
Even though he is picky, you understand. He has made you strong, happy to learn about the very thing you understand nothing about. It’s safe to say you were ignorant, taking advantage of the gift given to you.  
Luke rolls his eyes, the green saber retreating back into the canister as he tucks it back into his belt. "Training is done for now."
Your head tilts in understanding, tucking away the bright light until is clicks into the holder attached to your belt. There's a lingering silence, figuring it’s a  silent dismissal turning to return home but Luke's voice stops you. "Padawan?"
"Yes Master?"
"I sent out word to your Mandolorian." The smile drops from your face almost instantly, serious eyes look over his own for the lie, for the joke as if he would break into laughter but he didn't. He's still as he gives a shy smile, you tense instantly, heart stuttering inside your chest, it must be a joke. Your about to curse, tell him it's not funny but he beats you to it. "I sent out days ago, he is due any day now."
"You're serious? It's not funny --."
"You have done well, you exceeded my expectations. You deserve to have some time off. You and Grogu, it's been months." You squeal excitedly, the smile crinkles eyes, almost hurts because it's been so long since you felt genuine happiness.
"Now come, the little one is waiting."
-
Dinner has to be your favorite time of the day, only because after the relief your aching body gets, sore, black and blue but strong, you’re capable of more than you’ve ever known to be. Luke always reminds you, never lets you falter, never lets you have the chance to doubt yourself, he’s always there to remind you much you’ve accomplished but there is always more to learn. He's a good master, fair but authoritative when need be, he's shown you so much but had given you so much more: a purpose, a friend.
With dinner came relief but also meant you could see Grogu, he hasn't grown much physically but the force has made him powerful, such a small creature to have so much but it is so different with him. While the force only touched you, it seems to run through Grogu's veins, it's so natural to him. 
Luke is right next to you, sitting in the uncomfortable excuse of a chair but happy none the less as Grogu sits in the middle of the table in front of his plate with a coo, large black eyes peering up at his master, head tilting. "What's wrong little one?"
You don't need the force to feel what he's thinking, you communicated with this little guy way before all of this feeling though the force mumbo jumbo. The force was  never needed to feel him, understand the boy.  Reaching over to Luke's plate with a cheeky smile using your own fork to poke the potato. "He likes the hash."
Both of you are so occupied the hole of silence the hall falls into is unoticed, the heavy steps of boots that haunt your dreams. The Mandalorian seems so big in the hall, all the basker gives off the illusion of large broad shoulders, a thick trunk that matches the man underneath, he’s intimidating as eyes shift off him quickly to return back to their meal, no one would dare try a Mandalorian, even trained Jedi. Din eyes meet the back of your head, heart thumping in anticipation of seeing his love again. It's been seven months, seven agonizing, brutal months without his family. Any other man would go insane but this very moment is the reason he continued to fight, when he received the message from Luke he couldn’t believe it. Seven months with no communication, your voice haunted his dreams just wanting to hear it one more time.
But now, he feels his heart drop, his own body filling with dread, anxiety at the close proximity of you and the Jedi, faces inches away in conversation. The way small dimples pop through as you smile shyly at him, Luke's own laugh as he leans closer to Grogu.
The sight of him alone is enough to have Din choked up if it wasn't for the way Luke reached for your fork, feeding Grogu a few bites, whatever he didn't eat was taken into his own mouth. When his lips close around the fork Din's fist bunch at his sides, it was too intimate for teacher and student. That's his girl, his son he is feeding.
You do however notice how Luke's head turns in the direction behind you, but continue talking eyes narrowing to question why. He's not paying attention to your words only smiling, like he knows something you don’t. When there's no answer you decide to look yourself, at first you don't register that Din is only feet away, dead center of the hall. Head snaps back in a double take as anticipation makes your heart flutter, emotion fills your throat making it hard to speak, even move.
Feet register before your brain has the opportunity to, running towards him with a loud laugh of joy. He has to brace himself for the impact when you jump on him, a small 'ooof' leaving his lips as he catches the weight. Arms support you from under thighs, holding close as your legs tighten around his waist.
Your smile is wide, never ending the most as he holds the blushing skin of your cheek, the other hand on the underneath skin of your thighs holding you to the basker clad chest. Beautiful, absolutely breath taking. He's seen this in his dreams, reuniting with you but this is too real, the soft flesh expanding on his palm is too soft. The sight of you after so long is euphoric, its hard to breath with you so close, to concentrate on anything but the way your lips curl into a smile, eyes so lovingly with unshed tears. It's a relief to see you so alive and well, stronger under his own strength but as soft he remembers.
"I missed you Cyar'ika." It's breathlessly whispered into the vocoder, static chokes his words but it may be the tremble in his throat as a hand knots into hair to pull you closer.
"Oh." You mumble under your breath with as realize the stares that follow you, quickly you lower your feet to the ground but your hand never leaves his forearm, clenching the underneath, tunic crumpling in your hands. Now that he's here you never want to let go. "Come see Grogu."
Din can't even get a word out as he's pulled towards the table, he nods, acknowledging Luke despite the tension he manifests. The reunion warms your heart, it makes it harder not to crying as you feel Grogu's emotions run through you. He feels love.. he's excited extending his arms with grapy hands.
With no hesitation the child is once again reunited with the basker clad man.. his truthful father. It's a sigh of relief that falls from Din that makes you smile up at him. Din reaches over with his free hand, cupping your cheek. No words were said, not in the presence of a stranger but it's shown in the way his thumb moves across the smooth skin of your cheek.
-
The moment he entered the room darkness cascades over them, small, familiar hands press against the the basker that covers his head, a silent ask for permission. "Cyar'ika, it's --."
"I can't believe you're here, I missed you so much love." Din's eyes close so tightly at the words, he doesn't want to stop you. He wants to feel your skin pressed against his, he swears he's almost knocked off his feet when the helmet falls to the ground with a loud thump lips brusingly hard against his own.
"Sweet -." He tries to speak against but is met with the softness again, tongue seeking permission against his bottom lip.
"Missed you." Lips press against his jaw, following to his neck sucking softly on the smooth skin. A small, choked moan falls from his lips as you nip at the junction between his clavicle and throat.
The feeling of welted skin has you raising your head up in confusion, fingers taking place of your lips to feel the healing skin. It's not a scar or a wound but purposely put there, as you trace it with your fingers you begin to paint a small picture with the raised lines.
"It's a symbol of leadership along my people." He answers, hands reaching up to gently wrap around your wrist, bringing it to press against his cheek. His next words almost as unexpected as learning he has a new tattoo on his neck. "Would you like to see it?"
"But the creed.." you mumble, eyes roaming over the slightest curve of his face the darkness of allows as he pushes you to straddle his lap, his other hand running over the expanding skin of your thigh.
"It's nothing you haven't seen before my love." He's referring to the moment before you and the child left him, kissing him goodbye. "The creed is broken but I am a Mandalorian, nothing will change that."
"But, I ugh." The words are not of the man you knew almost a year ago, but show maturity, experience has formed him into a new person but nonetheless he still is yours.
It's just dawned on you now, while you were growing with power was so was Din. The lightsaber pressing against your outer thigh reminded you of it, while you have gained one, Din had ruled with one. Every new experience, lesson, moments spent crying Din has had similar, except his people depend on him for survival.
"Oh my God." You mumble under your breath, eyes widening in shock. His words, the tattoo meaning, the new signet pressed into his chest, the thicker tunic decorated with a gold pattern, you were so busy just concentrating the fact he was here, you never bothered to look at the changes, the clues. Two large horns soldered into his helmet you never noticed until now poke against your ankle. "You actually did it? I though you didn't want it."
"It's my responsibility to my people to get our home back. Once you left I had nothing but them, Bo-Katan has been helping me. We are so close Cyar'ika." Din presses his forehead against the skin of your shoulder, breathing deeply. "I can't wait to show you."
"So close to what?"
"Not hiding anymore, to regaining Mandalore." The words make your skin warm, a soft smile filled with admiration, proudness. "I'm building a home for us."
"You have changed Din."
"So have you Cyare. You look so well, feel so strong. You are where you’ve always belonged." He is right, there's something that changes in the air when you are nearby now; a power that follows you, makes everyone fear the presence but he loves it. "I wish I could have been here to see it. I dream of when we will be together again."
"Can I see?" The words are unsure, despite his earlier words old habits die hard, promising never to look unless he wants it, it was his choice, never yours.
"Please." It's soft, tender as you shakily wobble on legs to walk across the room, fingers ghost over the switch before a loud knock against the door makes even Din's stomach drop.
"Padawan?" Luke's voice makes Din scowl, what is it with this guy?
"Yes Master?" The way you answer so quickly with little regard towards Din has him swollowing loudly, jealousy searing his veins, it makes his forehead hot.
"While I have promised you a break the day is still not over, training will continue."
"Be right out." It's quick, the kiss pressed against his lips, it has him reaching out to hold you again but you already out the door leaving him gritting his teeth.
-
When he finds you again it almost an hour of looking for you. He's irritated, it shows in the way he walks, tall and intimidating with every crunch of sand under his boots.
Despite it being evening the sun is still blaring, it's too hot for anything but he manages to power through, though taking off the helmet is an option if is his only line of defense when it comes to be surrounded by Jedis.
It's an odd sight, you're legs are crossed as Grogu sits feet in front of you. Eyelashes fluttering in concentration, frustration clear in the way the junction between your eye brow wrinkles. It's magical, the way the large rock moves across the length of the pair. It's amazing truly, he's watched the kid do it many times but with you, it's different, seven months ago you could barely hold a blaster let alone do this.
He was in complete awe, watching as Grogu takes the rock himself but to him it's effortless. He doesn't even bat an eye as the rock moves higher and higher until it's explodes. The small pieces shoot towards him, the rocks dink against his helmet knocking him forward that he doesn't give you enough time to warn you that there's someone behind you, he feels himself jump forward to protect  but natural reflexes already have you up, your own blue saber flashes with Luke's green one.
It's a relief it's only him but also makes him want to longue and wrap his hands around his throat for even trying to attack you, it's instincts, his own will to protect his family. He was so caught up with his own anger, he didn't notice the small hands tugging at his pant leg.
"Hey buddy." It's the soft coo that warms his heart, the sound he missed so late at night, all by himself. It feels so right to have him in his arms again, it's a distraction for a moment, but the loud shriek that mumbles against your lips as the saber slices your arm breaks the moment.
Din stalks toward without hesitation, hands reaching out to pull Luke by his collar but hand stops half way there; a choking sound falling from his lips as he feels his throat start to close.
"Luke!" You exclaim, hands pulling on his shoulder. "Stop!"
Luke doesn't listen, tilts his head as the Mandalorian's other hand reaches for his own neck, the child falls from his arms but Luke reaches for Grogu as he floats towards him and that is when he decides to let go of his hold on Din.
"She is fine." Luke's tone is accusing, eyes lit up in anger. He knew the reasoning behind the Mandalorian's attack but it irritates him. Din falls to the ground into his knees as he coughs, lung begging for air. "She will heal, it's no wonder she was afraid of the force. You made her feel as if she was weak. Couldn't protect herself. Can't you see she is strong?"
The words sting a bit, you never felt like that with Din but the words of your master, where they true? Had he been the reason you never felt the force like this before? It’s not his fault, he’s always been a protector.
"Yes." Din chokes on the words, it's surprises Luke how quickly he recovers, leaning on knees, visor tilting up to meet his gaze. "I do, I don't need you telling me either Jedi."
The last word is spoken with gritted teeth, disgust as he stands, squaring up the man in front of him, pressing the top of his basker against Luke’s face. 
"Then do her a favor and never, ever underestimate her again." Din doesn't like what the Jedi is insinuating, hands balling in fist, finger coming to poke the Jedi's chest as he speaks. "Respect her Mandalorian."
"I do." You're about to squeeze between the two men but Din speaks too fast. "I don't need any magic tricks to beat your ass either."
"Din!" You hiss, the helmet pointing in your direction as a growl admits his chest.
"You're sticking up for him?!" Then once again you're minded how immature Din Djarin can really be. He's protective, overbearing but you expect more from Luke as he speaks. "You're just taking out the fact that Grogu and the girl are in my care, they are with me."
"My son, my girl." Then it hit you, all so sudden he wasn't an asshole, maybe a little immature, but he was jealous. The growl that rumbled his chest made even you shake. You couldn't find yourself to blame him either, both of the people he's ever cared for pulled from his arms, seven months spent with Luke. It made him insecure, dear the worst.
"Enough!" A hand presses against each other their chests, meeting Luke's first. Eyes warn him, "I expect more from you."
Then they move to Din with a scowl, "And you have no reason to be like this, Luke is my friend. He is helping me! I am strong now because of him."
"You have always been strong." The words make you pause, heart dropping. Guilt dropping your shoulders instantly. "You never needed to hold a lightsaber for me to see that."
A strong, confident finger lifts lifts towards Luke's direction, it looks like he's going to say something else judging by his stance, looks over you one more time then Grogu before stalking away towards the direction of the hall.
-
It's only an hour later, and Din is no where to be found. Luke has told you he's taken the child for a little bit, you can only imagine how that exchange went but respectfully allow him to have time with him, besides you doubt he wants to see you right now.
He was right, it was a force of habit trying to protect you but he has never doubted or hesitated for one second when it came to you. There has only been one person who has ever believed that anything was possible for you and it's the one you managed to chase away.
The room is dark, the only light comes from the gasps of the curtains the moon allows in. You have given up on waiting on the bed, instead curl up on the large longue chair in the corner, book open but you wouldn't even notice if there weren't any words. Too deep in thought over your Mandalorian.
What If he leaves without seeing you? Surely, he wouldn't, it was stupid fight, it shouldn't have happened but you shouldn't have accused him either. The rattling of the door knob makes you pause, daring not to breath that it might scare him away. He's quiet as the silhouette of armour makes it through the doorway, shiny, the darkness of his visor camouflaging him throughout the door.
The light flickers on, you want to squeeze your eyes shut, away from his gaze out of fear he might leave again seeing that you aren’t sleeping, waiting for him.
He doesn't speak, only stiffens his stance, arms crossing his chest as the helmet tilts down in your direction. "What are you doing?"
"Reading."
"In the dark?" You have been caught there's no reason to argue with him just turn a dark shade of pink as the book is closed with a loud echo. Tension fills the air, you're torn between apologizing and expect one first, his behavior was inappropriate.
"Are you happy here?" It's surprising watching the Mandalorian walk close until he's between the V of your legs, a soft breath caught through the static as he uses your thighs as an anchor for his hands as he slowly lowers to the floor in front of you. His force his horse as leans over, pressure pressed against your chin, it's not enough to hurt but enough to show he is angry. "Is there someone here making you happy? That isn't me?"
You don't like what he's insinuating, brow furrow with a deep frown and a scoff, "If you have something to ask I suggest you come out with it Din."
"Are you fucking him?" The words make you huff, pushing the warmth of his skin away but he reaches out to touch you again. He wants you to look at him, he wants to see the truth your eyes will tell.
The fucking nerve he has to knot his fingers into your hair, keep your head still as the visor moves up and down the soft features of your face, it's soft but shows meaning. At this very moment you here the way your body reacts to him, wanting to move closer, wrap the other hand around your neck at his tone, the authority in his voice. "I asked you a question."
"Really?" The way he stares just irritates you. Spending all your nights longing for him, all the tears wasted on missing him just for him to believe you were unfaithful. "I can't believe you just asked me that."
"Don't act like it's all me! I can see it, you sit so close that you're practically on his lap. He ate from your fork. He comes to your aid like I don't know you can take care of yourself, tells me of all people to respect you, never undermine you. When have I ever? He seems to forget that I was the person who first trained you. So, I'm going to ask you one more time. Are you fucking the Jedi? Do you like him?"
"Get out of my face Din!" The heat of his visor, the blackness hides any kind of emotion, all you see is the anger that comes from his throat, words stinging cheeks. It's impossible to concentrate with him so close, pressing his entire weight against your thighs.
"Tell me now." The words harsh, he needs to know, hear the words from your lips to know they are true.
"No! How dare you even accuse me of that? I have been waiting for months to see you again and you accuse me of being unfaithful?" The tears sting, almost hurt as much as knowing Din has little trust in you. His chest is raising fast, deep, quick breaths against your knee, showing just how worked up he is, he's frustrated, the throbbing in his pants gives that away and makes you think if there’s a different reason. He's insecure, jealous, absolutely pissed.
The harsh fingers leave your hair only to meet the edge of his helmet, you don't even get time to register before it falls to the floor next to you. Seeing is face is.. different this time.
It's clear, the first time was rushed, tear filled but now he look so.. good.
His brows furrowed in anger, nostrils flaring, hair thrown messily across his forehead, you don't even get time to look at his lips before his hands touch your cheeks pulling you into a bruising kiss, fingers nails forming small crescents on hips as the words are moaned against your lips, rushed with how desperate the Mandalorian is.
"You are mine." It's not the words that make you gasp but the hand that tugs the tips of your hair, pulling your head down more to accept his crushing lips. "Mine."
tags: @remmyswritings​, @b0nnyzz​, @heavenlymistake​, @mcueveryday​, @phantomofthewapera, @dindjarinswhore​, @hellothereobi​, @mudhornchronicles​, @alwaysreading1019, @stepintothelightz, @pepmintmocha​, @charlottemcgrace​, @the-last-twin-of-krypton​, @disgvst-d​, @atrxdixs​, @cal-ifornication​, @acourtofsnakes​, @waiting-for-motivation​, @that-sarcastic-pieces, @writings-of-a-fool​, @theocatkov​, @itsfangirlmendes​, @maileecabudol​, @ghost-lantern​, @mandoandyodito​, @sleep-deprived-things​,  @maddie0w0​, @bluegalaxyprime​, @stilledimperfections​, @altarsw​
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randomrosewrites · 3 years
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Could you do an Albedo x reader where the reader is Klee's actual older sibling?
a/n: This idea is really cute and I kinda got ahead of myself and it's almost 3 pages lol
Life and Love
Pairing: Albedo x GN reader Tags: Fluff, domestic life, shyness, Klee being adorable as always
Albedo is first introduced to you from Alice when he first arrives in Mondstat. Though he doesn’t learn much from you, as Klee’s the one that bombards him with questions and chats excitedly with him.
Being her older sibling, you share some physical traits with Klee, like her pointed ears. Though the two of you couldn’t be more different in terms of personality.
While Klee runs around, full of energy, you’re always following behind her, carefully watching to make sure that she doesn’t hurt herself or others.
Albedo doesn’t see much of you initially, he’s always busy in his lab or up on the mountains. Though he does drop by your house as a common courtesy, or when he walks Klee home after a long day.
One day, he’s on Dragonspine, deep into an experiment when he hears a familiar cry. He turns around and makes out two figures in the snow.
“Hello Mister Albedo!” Klee waves at him. She runs forward and jumps into his arms, making him stumble backward. He shifts his arms to hold her better.
“What are you doing here, Klee?”
“We came to see you here!” she exclaims, cheeks red with the cold. “I wanted to see you so bad.”
“She wouldn’t stop asking to come until I brought her,” you sigh, brushing the snow from your coat. “So here we are.”
Albedo sets Klee down by the fire. “I see. Well, can I get you anything to drink? I’m sure it was a cold trip.”
“Ooh, I want hot coco!” Klee chips.
Klee drinks her coco then promptly falls asleep, curled up against your side, tiny hands grabbing onto your coat. It’s here that you and Albedo have your first real conversion. A bit rocky and awkward, but the more you talk, the more you begin to warm up to each other.
In the following weeks, your trips to the mountain or to his lab are more frequent. Klee is always eager to see him, sometimes bringing gifts of crayoned drawings or fresh fish (totally not ones she blasted with her pyro bombs). Albedo always accepts them gratefully, cooking up Sunshrine Sprat for you to take home and hanging up the drawings on his wall. It’s a warm welcome to his life.
Sometimes, on the odd occasion that he’s stuck, you’re more than willing to listen to him talk through his experiment and give your opinion. Even if you know next to nothing about what he’s doing, Albedo appreciates that he can talk with you.
Romantic feelings creep up on Albedo slowly over time. He finds himself wishing for you and Klee to visit him more often, he gifts you warming bottles and bioluminescent crystalfly cores to keep you warm at night, he clears a chair and a small stool to make things more comfortable for you and Klee when you come to visit.
Even then, he’s not aware of his own feelings until Kaeya jokingly teases him for his ‘uncharacteristic fascination’ in you. Which makes him consider the weight of his feelings.
He’s not really sure what to make of it. His relationship with you and Klee is very precious to him, he doesn’t want to ruin it by overstepping any boundaries.
So, for the most part, his feelings remain buried, only showing themselves in small ways. Albedo and Klee will gather your favourite flowers and then surprise you with them. Albedo asks Klee what drinks you like, then always makes sure that he has a supply in his lab.
Inevitably, Klee’s the one that lets it slip that Albedo’s feelings might be a bit more than platonic.
“Are you here to help Mister Albedo Draw?” Klee asks when you enter his lab one day. Crayoned drawings are scattered across the table, mixed in with official reports written in Albedo’s neat script.
Albedo, working on an experiment, freezes as if he’s been hit with a cryo attack. You raise a brow, confused. “What are you talking about, Klee?”
“His sketchbooks are full of pictures of you! I saw him trying to hide them when I came in but I saw them!”
Across the room, Albedo’s ears turn bright red. Your stomach flutters and your heart races.
Does he? Albedo only draws things that pique his interest. While he’s shown you some of his drawings of Sucrose or Klee, you’ve never heard anything about drawings of you.
You clear your throat. “You weren’t snooping again, were you?”
“Nuh-uh!” she protests. “I’ve been a good girl, promise!” she looks between you and Albedo, frowning. “...Did I say something wrong?”
You pat her head, ruffling her hat. “No sweetie, you’re fine. I came by to tell you that Mister Kaeya’s taking a trip to Starfell lake. Wanna join him?”
Klee’s eyes light up. “Yes!” She hops off her stool, stuffing drawings and crayons into her bag as she goes. Klee gives you a hug before racing to the door.
“I’ll be back before supper. Bye! Bye bye Mr. Albedo!”
“Goodbye Klee, stay safe,” the alchemist says.
She races out of the room, shutting the door a bit too hard. Some of the bottles in the shelves rattle. The tension in the laboratory is suffocating. Neither of you dare to look each other in the eye.
“So, you draw me?” you begin.
Albedo pauses and inhales sharply. “Yes. I apologize if that makes you feel uncomfortable, I’ll stop if that’s what you want.”
“No it’s...fine. I’m surprised, but I don’t mind.”
Albedo turns to look at you, head tilted slightly. “Why would you be surprised, you’re a beautiful person.”
His confession, pure and honest, has you at a loss for words. “I just...didn’t think I was that interesting to you.”
Albedo’s gaze turns from soft to alluring. “You’re very interesting to me, Y/N.”
Even though you both have your suspicions about the other’s romantic interest, it goes unspoken until a few more weeks go by. It’s almost comical how natural the transition feels, when Albedo suddenly asks if you’d allow him to court you.
You nearly drop the book you’re holding and stare at Albedo as if he’s sprouted a second head. “What did you just say?”
Albedo’s face is blank as he repeats himself. “I said, would you like to be courted next week?”
“...Albedo, are you trying to ask me out?”
“Yes...did I say something wrong? I’m not really used to Mondstadt romance customs…”
A smile spreads across your face and you can’t help the laugh that exits your throat. “No one says it like that. Who told you that’s how you ask someone out? Kaeya?”
The blush on his cheeks is all the answer you need.
Needless to say, you accept. The shift from platonic to romantic with him isn’t all that different from how things normally are.
Albedo’s not really one for hard labels or tradition. He doesn’t feel the need to outwardly say the two of you are dating, or even call your relationship ‘dating’ either. He’s romantically interested in you. You’re romantically interested in him. That’s all there is to it.
You do make a point to tell Klee, among other people close to you, and it goes rather smoothly.
“Hey Klee.”
“Mhm?”
“Me and Mister Albedo like each other. Kiss on the lips like each other.”
“Oh wow! Does that mean he’s my big brother?”
She’s very sweet and happy about it, even if she’s not too sure what people in romantic relationships do.
Dates are odd. Half the time they’re crashed by Klee, who insists on joining in whenever the two of you have ‘playdates’. Albedo’s schedule also makes it hard for anything formal to happen.
Affection is also tough. Albedo’s not one for PDA in the slightest, but anything behind the doors of his lab is fair game. Kisses, hugs, cuddles, etc.
...the only problem is that there’s been numerous times where Klee has barged in suddenly, making the two of you jump away from each other, embarrassed.
It’s never something that bothers you or Albedo, just frustrating. But Klee makes it hard for you to remain that way when she acts so cute, telling you about the latest thing Kaeya told her.
Whenever you do want some alone time, you hand her off to Kaeya, who makes sure to keep her entertained while you and Abledo get some alone time. (He returns Klee later on with his hair braided poorly and a bunch of hairpins stuck in it.)
Sometimes, when the weather is nice, all three of you go to starsnatch cliff and have a picnic. Klee chases the dandelions in the wind while you and Albedo watch her from the blanket, fingers interlaced together.
And on those clear-blue days, where the wind blows through your hair gently, drying the paint on Albedo’s paintings, you feel nothing in your heart but love.
It’s perfect, a small slice of Celestia for the three of you as a family.
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thefairyletters · 3 years
Note
I saw you rb a SaiSaku post and was curious if you had any fanfic recs for this rarepair?!
Do I have?!!!!! I am currently binging this ship so you couldn't have asked this at better time.
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This pair is not a crack ship! Crack would mean they have not shared more than two words with each other. But SaiSaku interactions always bordered on romance and best friends who don't act like it. Not only Sakura was the first person to acknowledge Sai had human side to him and bonded with him over his painting, Sai was also the only person outside Sasuke (in part 1) to be able tell her fake smiles and he always understood her feelings better than other characters. Had Sakura ever only cared for good looks (something she don't) then with Sai she'd get that and so much more.
I have always considered SaiSaku as the next best thing after NaruSaku. They had too much potential as a couple. I am not bitter that InoSai became a thing but looking at them I only feel that "Ino didn't get Sasuke so she get his look-alike." Besides, Sai gave people nicknames that are opposites to what actually feels about them – Naruto as Dickless, Sakura as Hag/Ugly and Ino as Beautiful – which makes it worse. Both Ino and Sai deserve better than this. If Kishi has shown them together more often or had interactions between them similar to SaiSaku then I can understand why Ino is his light. I guess it is also SP's fault for showing them in different light. For all SP hates Sakura, they enjoy messing up with her fans by feeding them false hope.
Whenever I want to read something hilarious but deep, SaiSaku is my to-go couple. Usually angsty, or full bout of insults and punches. There's no in between with them.
. SaiSaku .
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This list contains my favorite SaiSaku collection. I am not sure if you like SaiSaku only as romance ship but this list also contain stories that expands on SaiSaku friendship, something I absolutely adore.
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Could Roses Bloom? : RiseoftheBlossom || M || AO3 || Shippuden AU || GaaSaku, SaiSaku || Angst, Romance || Ongoing
Sai glanced downwards at his body, the sudden override of his thoughts causing his mind to blank. What did that mean? Had he been straying too close to a piece of information Danzo didn't want him to have or share? Or was it his mind's natural response to shutting down any form of emotion, even if it was just the slightest of inclination towards feeling something?
Go for it if you like: enemies-to-friends-to-lovers troupe, SaiSaku friendship, confused-over-his-feelings!Sai, slow burn, GaaSaku, boys who are bad at feelings, Sakura who is unlucky with romance, angst with fluff
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hello, bright eyes (been waiting on you) : mouseymightymarvellous || T || AO3 || Shippuden AU || SaiSaku || Angst, Romance || One Shot
“look underneath the underneath,” except no one has ever really bothered to look at sakura and see her. and then there is a boy (isn’t there always). maybe they’re both just ghosts, making each other real.
Go for it if you like: enemies-to-friends-to-lovers troupe, confused-over-her-feelings!Sakura, boys who are bad at feelings, Sakura who is unlucky with romance, Sai and Sakura who don't feel like they belong, angst with fluff, sad!Sai
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Oh God That’s Heaven : blueberrysconesandfolkmusic || T || AO3 || Shippuden AU || SaiSaku || Angst, Romance || One Shot
Sakura finds Sai sick, alone, and in desperate need of a hand that doesn't hurt.
Go for it if you like: boys who are bad at feelings, bleeding-heart!Sakura, sad-and-lonely!Sai, Sai and Sakura who are secretly best friends, Sai with PTSD, protective!team7
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for everything blue and bright : sinemoras09 || M || AO3 || Shippuden AU || SaiSaku, SasuSaku || Angst || One Shot
The five stages of human arousal.
Go for it if you like: lonely!Sai, obsessed!Sakura, One-sided love, Unrequited-love-no-matter-how-you-look-at-it!SaiSaku, no-good-very-bad!Ending, pining!Sai, bittersweet lemon
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A mess of me : Dovey || M || AO3 || Pre-Shippuden AU || SaiSaku || Yandere Romance || Complete
In which Sai is a good ANBU agent with an unusual hobby, and Sakura grows up with a #1 fan rooting for her....even if she doesn't know it. Or: Sai starts stalking Sakura when they're both young to satisfy his curiousity about 'normalcy', gets attached, and eventually gets very frustrated that nobody else seems to notice her potential as a shinobi and takes matters into his own hands- and delights in being Sakura's prime source of validation because of it.
Go for it if you like: obsessed!Sai, manipulation, stalker!Sai, mentor!Sai, SaiSaku friendship, distraught!Kakashi, fluff, baby-Sai-stalking-baby-Sakura, abusive haruno household
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There is sunshine on his forehead : amako || T || AO3 || Soulmate AU || SaiSaku but it's complicated || Angst, Hurt/Comfort || One Shot
Sakura is only three when she promises herself that Sasuke will die by her hand, whoever he is.
Go for it if you like: dysfunctional Team 7, Soulmate AU, Unrequited love feels, angst heavy, Sai and Sakura only want to belong, NaruSasu, NaruSaku but not really, betrayal heavy, no fluff only pain, SaiSaku, Team 7 taking Sakura for granted, Sakura is so done
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In theory : nimblnymph || T || FFN || Shippuden || SaiSaku || Romance, Humor || One Shot
For every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction. Sai was about to learn that this theory applied to more than just physics. And that putting theory into practice sometimes gave unexpected results.
Go for it if you like: oblivious!Sai, teacher!Sakura, student!Sai, Sai getting educated, Sakura educating Sai, Kisses, Sai being Sai, Sakura with patience of god
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Loathing : i AM the Random Idiot || T || FFN || Shippuden || SaiSaku || Romance, Angst || One Shot
Define "hatred."
Go for it if you like: oblivious!Sai, hurt!Sai, Angst, Onions, SakuSai bonding over mutual hate, love is overrated anyway
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Bunk Mates : ice bitten || T || FFN || Shippuden || Team 7 || Humor, Friendship || One Shot
In which Sasuke and Naruto find out Sakura has been sleeping over at Sai's. Short stories surrounding Sakura, Sai, and the invasive people of Konoha.
Go for it if you like: sassy!Sai, protective!Team7, SaiSaku friendship, roommates, Sai being Sai, Perfect characterisation, Canon feels
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Paint me with Colour : PeregrineFlight || T || FFN || post-Shippuden || SaiSaku|| Humor, Friendship || Incomplete
Sai and Sakura must travel to the Land of Lightning to retrieve something for the Daimyo, they have to travel as a married couple. Much to Naruto's amusement.
Go for it if you like: lonely!Sai, SaiSaku friendship, roommates, Sai being Sai, pretend marriage, SaiSaku bonding over mission, fluffy angst, adorable!Sai
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Forget Me Not : Joy-girl || T || FFN || post-Shippuden || Team 7 || Angst, Friendship || Complete
Sometimes it's easy to forget how important someone is when the person is always in the background – but Sakura's boys still remember. Glimpses of her importance from each member of her team.
Go for it if you like: fluffy angst, Sakura's place in team 7, underappreciated Sakura, Team7 family, Family feels, sad!Sakura, protective!Team7 males, Sakura appreciation, SaiSaku bond, Team7Saku feels, avenger!Teammates
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Add Me Colour : Cella N || T || FFN || post-Shippuden || SaiSaku || Drama, Romance || Complete
"All my life is white. Paint me. Add me colour."
Go for it if you like: lonely!Sakura, Sai being Sai, confused!Sakura, angst, poetic translation, colors
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Euphemisms : Nymbis || T || FFN || Shippuden || SaiSaku || Humor, Romance || Complete(?)
Drabbles about Sai, Sakura, and their strange attempts at bonding.
Go for it if you like: Sai being Sai, Sakura being Sakura, Hilarious friendships, SaiSaku friendship, loveggression, love-hate relationship, Insults, Sai's brand of humor, fluff with punches, Raunchy stuff
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Ricochet : Strix 4 || T || FFN || Shippuden AU || Team 7 || Family, Drama || Complete(?)
Sometimes it's easy to see the familiar in the faces around you. Sometimes it sucks to figure out why.
Go for it if you like: fluffy angst, Sakura's place in team 7, Team7 as family, Family feels, wise!Sakura, SaiSaku bond, Sai's place in team 7
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Pick up lines : Demoneyes 14 || T || FFN || Shippuden || SaiSaku || Humor || One Shot
Ero sennin's pick up lines! Guaranteed to get the girl or your money back! Well... it would be more guaranteed if it hadn't fallen on his face in the library, but heck, Sai will try anything once! Maybe it will save him a beating from Sakura...
Go for it if you like: Sai being Sai, Sakura being Sakura, SaiSaku friendship, loveggression, love-hate relationship, Insults, Sai's brand of humor, fluff with punches
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Special mentions...
Study of the Heart : teresa
In an effort to become a better friend, Sai undertakes a study of love, not really understanding how difficult it could be, and how surprising.
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The Blood of a Cherry Blossom : Slytherin Kunoichi
Originally, for Halloween, Sai hadn't decided what to go as, but once he glimpsed at the bleeding flesh on Sakura's neck, he suddenly had the urge to be a vampire…
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Old Dogs, New Tricks : yuugiri
After an unprecedented turn of events, the Fifth Hokage has officially assigned Sakura Haruno the responsibility to make Sai recover what he had lost; his emotions. With a time limit of a month, will Sakura succeed in this mission?
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Once More, With Feeling : Cynchick
Sakura didn't know what she was thinking when she showed up on his doorstep. 
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Ink Me : Krickitat
Exploring the art of bod-modification Sakura takes a step into the unknown world of the exquisite pain of art.
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The Uchiha Secret : Slytherin Kunoichi
Sasuke froze as he stared at Sai's eyes, which were identical to his Uchiha Sharingan eyes now: red with anger and black with hatred...One family secret could threaten and shake three lives forever. Bonds will be broken.
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My babies don't get enough love in the world.
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ode-to-fury · 2 years
Text
Winter Thorns and Iron Crowns Pt. 5
Summary: Ah, backstory backstory backstory. Reader has been in King's Landing for two years. She works up the courage to finally ask a question she has been meaning to ask for two years.
Pairings: Stannis Baratheon x reader (eventual) Arthur Dayne x reader (eventual)
Disclaimer: some of the characters were never in certain places in canon and I’m aware of this, but also I adore drama and suspense so we’ll call it creative license. Also I aged everyone up by two years for Robert’s Rebellion because I cannot stand the whole sixteen-year-old-dies-in-childbirth thing, sorry!
Stannis,
I hope everything is well. I was sorry to hear that Maester Cressen has taken ill. Try to be kind to him, not impatient. I was also sorry to hear that Proudwing still will not fly properly. Perhaps you can entice her with a bit of meat or bait? I don’t know, it is difficult to tell through letter.
The Red Keep has been interesting. King Aerys held a tourney and a ball in honour of Rhaegar’s nameday. I had to wear dresses the entire time, and shoes! It was horrible. Queen Rhaella also made me dance with almost every young man in attendance, and most of them stepped on my toes. I’m still horrid at dancing, I think the queen might be starting to despair of me. I am getting very good at the harp, however.
I don’t know when I will be able to visit. I thought that if you could perhaps convince your father to hold a tourney I could come, but I know you won’t, so I suppose I will have to make do with the entertainment I can find here. Though the library isn’t half as interesting as the one in Storm’s End. I think I’ve read all the adventure books, the rest is just religious stories, and I don’t really understand those. How can there be seven gods who are all actually one god?
In any case, let me know how Proudwing fares,
Yours,
Y/n Stark
Y/n looked at the letter one last time, then quickly went back and crossed out her last word, replacing it with a simple “Regards.”
Then she folded the letter. Rhaegar had very kindly shown her precisely how Stannis got his letters folded so neatly, by using a block of wood to press the edge down very hard. She sealed it with her wax and ring, carefully replacing the ring around her neck when she was done.
Then she was off to the rookery. She scampered down the sunlit halls of Maegor’s Holdfast, treading the familiar path to Maester Pycell’s side of the tower.
As she passed the courtyard in front of the gates, she saw Arthur Dayne sparring with ser Barristan Selmy, and her feet slowed without her notice. There was a circle of men around them, with Rhaegar amongst them, watching the two knights spar.
Through a gap in the crowd she saw that both men wore their gleaming white Kingsguard armour, though they fought with dulled weapons. Y/n knew they were dulled weapons, because ser Arthur fought one handed, instead of wielding his big shining greatsword, Dawn.
Even without his own weapon, however, it was incredible to watch him. According to most people in the keep, ser Barristan was a great knight, and he had won many tourneys and duels before becoming a kingsguard. He’d even unhorsed ser Duncan the Tall once.
Though, watching him face Arthur, she could not help but think he looked slow and old. The younger man moved with a grace she had only ever heard described in her books and as she watched, he disarmed ser Barristan, sending the older man’s sword clattering to the ground. The first time she had seen him, she had immediately thought that he was what a true knight should be, tall, bright-eyed, handsome. Though of course being handsome did not matter all that much when it came to being a knight. It helped, however. All the knights in her stories were always handsome.
Ser Barristan laughed and bent to pick up his sword. As he stood, both knights happened to glance over in her direction. Ser Arthur’s violet eyes met her own above a soft smile.
“Lady Stark,” ser Barristan greeted, giving her a kindly smile. They both inclined their heads to her, and she felt her cheeks burn at being caught staring. All the other men in the courtyard had seen her too, now, and she could see the laughter in their eyes as well.
Quickly, she curtsied and ran off, aware that she should have said something back, aware that she had probably made a fool of herself in front of them all, and wishing she could meld into the stone behind her.
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Arthur stared out of the window and watched as the sun began to sink toward the Western horizon, thinking of Starfall. He missed his home, some days more than others. Today was a missing day.
It was a calm afternoon, though hot, and he was currently guarding prince Rhaegar as he sat with his mother in her parlour.
Rhaegar’s silver hair fell across his eyes as he bent forward, moving Y/n Stark’s fingers on the strings of his harp. He never allowed anyone to touch that harp of his, anyone but this northern girl.
Arthur had asked him about it once, and Rhaegar had smiled, and said, “No one has ever asked me to teach them before, Arthur."
He had been surprised to see her in the courtyard the previous day, watching his sparring match with ser Barristan. Mostly she kept to herself, eccept when quen Rhaella had need of her.
“Why don’t you grace us with a song, Lady Stark?” Rhaegar asked when he straightened. “Show my mother the improvement you’ve made.”
Her eyes widened slightly, but she nodded hesitantly.
“What would you like to hear, your grace?”
“Something to make us laugh,” Rhaegar replied, and sat back next to his mother. "It is an afternoon for laughing, I think."
Y/n’s eyes moved across the room as she thought. When they landed on Arthur at his place by the window, a mischievous smile made its way onto her face.
She cleared her throat, making a big show of readying herself. Her voice rang out clear and smooth through the room.
The dornishman’s wife was as fair as the sun
Her kisses were warmer than spring…
The queen and the prince smiled, and even Arthur could not keep a grin from his face as she sang.
Brothers o brothers my days here are done
The dornishman’s taken my life
But what does it matter for all men must die and I’ve tasted the Dornishman’s wife!
On the last, she made sure to strum a false chord on the harp, and fell backward as if dying. It was endearing to see. Like a shield had been lowered, only for a moment, and Arthur could see the wildness beneath.
Rheagar laughed heartily at her theatrics, and congratulated her on her improvement, helped along by the queen’s motherly smile.
`~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Did you enjoy my song, ser Arthur?”
Arthur looked down to the girl. She was trying to hide a grin at her own jest, and failing miserably.
“I did, my lady,” he said, smiling along with her. “I wonder at how you thought to sing it on such short notice?”
“Something inspired me, I suppose,” she replied, and this time her smile was wide and full. She had two dimpled cheeks, and Arthur saw that the right was distorted slightly by the four scars on her cheek. He pitied her for them. Without them she might have been quite comely.
"Though I must admit," he said, "I did not think to hear a lady sing such a song. Are you not too young?"
She scrunched her nose at him.
"You should hear some of the songs the Greatjon used to sing at feasts up North," she said. "This was nothing, ser. I know some songs that would make even ser Llewyn blush, I'm sure of it."
When she spoke of her home, her way of speaking changed slightly, and Arthur heard the northern lilt creep back into her carefully controlled speech. He wondered if he did that too, when he spoke of Dorne. They were both of them a long ways from home, surrounded by people who did not understand.
They stood silently for a while, her watching the gardens outside the window and him watching the prince and queen as they spoke together. Some more ladies had joined them, no doubt hoping to impress the prince. Arthur wondered how long it would take him to decide on a bride.
“Ser Arthur,” Y/n started slowly, shaking him from his thoughts.
“Yes, my lady?” He asked, strangely glad for the distraction of her company.
“Everyone I’ve asked has told me that you are the best swordsman in the seven kingdoms,” she said, “Perhaps the world.”
He smiled.
"That is high praise, my lady," he said, though he knew it was true. Not even ser Barristan matched him, though a true knight was always humble in the face of praise.
"Yes," she said. "And Rhaegar always says you are kind as well."
"My lady, if your purpose in speaking to me was to flatter me, consider it to have worked," he said, smiling at her. She was not that much younger than him, he realised. She blushed.
"Half of my purpose, ser," she said sheepishly.
Her smile faded. She fidgeted with the end of her hair, and seemed to be making sure no one was close enough to hear them speak. He had never met anyone who fidgeted as much as she did. He'd seen her during sermons in the sept, unable to sit still for more than ten minutes without changing position, or tugging at her hair or her dress.
“Would you…” she bit her bottom lip. “Would you teach me?”
He gaped at her.
And she stared right back.
"Teach you...?"
"Teach me to fight," and as she said it, he saw her eyes fill with desire, with passion.
“My lady?” He asked, flabbergasted. “I am a knight of the kingsguard, I do not have time- it is entirely impossible- a lady- “
“I already know how to hold a sword,” she cut him off. “And the basic concepts. My brother showed my sister and I when we were younger,” she looked at him with big, pleading eyes and her lower lip jutted out slightly.
“One lesson,” she said, “And if you think I am hopeless, I will not ask you again.”
He stared at her.
Why?
“One lesson,” he said, and the words seemed to come out of his mouth before he was aware they would.
The smile on her face could have put the sun to shame.
"Thank you," she mouthed at him. before happily bounding off to rejoin the queen, who pulled her tight against her with one arm, almost out of habit. She whispered something to Y/n which made her laugh, and again Arthur found himself smiling along with that laugh. It sounded like the tinkling of a bell.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The wind whipped at his shirt as he sat down on the rock next to Y/n Stark. It was a quiet little pier at the foot of the cliffs below the Red Keep, out of the way of prying eyes and ears. Both of them were soaked with sweat, and the waves crashing against the small rocks below him misted his face pleasantly.
The tourney swords he had had them practice with lay abandoned on the ground behind them.
She hadn’t been terrible. She did not have near enough muscle to be fast or strong enough yet, but her build was such that with practice she could become quite formidable. She had not lied about knowing the basics, and he had never met a quicker learner or a harder worker.
She laughed when he told her as such, that laugh that sounded like a bell tinkling.
“Would you write home to Winterfell for me and let my father know?” she asked, looking pleadingly at him, “He would not believe me if I told him you said so.”
Arthur smiled at her jest.
“My lady,” he started, unsure of how she would react to what he said next, “May I ask a question?”
She squinted at him suspiciously.
“Alright” she said suspiciously. “I will allow a single question.”
He laughed. “You are ever so gracious.”
She inclined her head.
“My lady… why?”
She frowned at him.
“I think you would do better asking one of your septons such a question, ser,” she said.
“No, I meant,” he gestured vaguely behind him, to the swords lying on the flagstones. “Why would you want to learn the sword? You are a highborn lady with many connections, you are not hard to look upon… why bother?”
She frowned then, and looked out across the water. She seemed to be considering the question.
“Back at Winterfell” she started slowly, “Old Nan was the woman who looked after my siblings and I. She told us bedtime stories of brave knights and heroic quests and far away places, only… None of the knights were ever women. Women were always the ones being helped. Does that make sense?” she trailed off, looking at the horizon.
“I’m afraid not.”
“It isn’t really a noble reason, I’m afraid,” she said, smiling softly.
“Your secret will be safe with me,” he said. “Knight’s honour.”
She smiled again, though it soured quickly.
“My whole life, I have come second to someone. My sister and I were born out of the same womb and yet she drew breath first. My siblings were louder than I was, and braver and stronger. Especially after Ned left for the Eyrie, I was the quiet one, who could not speak to others. I had to content myself with my horse and my books for friends, because none would speak to me, especially not after I gained my scars,” she touched her cheek softly. “I could not sit still, could not focus, could not listen. I was never good enough for anyone.”
“But then, we travelled to Storm’s End to see a tourney. And I saw the knights fight and joust, and everyone looked at them in awe, with love. And I thought ‘That will be me’,” there was a fire in her eyes when she looked at him.
“I want to slay the dragon, ser Arthur. I want to be the hero,” she shrugged then, like she had not just changed his entire perception of her.
“At least, I wish to try.”
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bonny-kookoo · 3 years
Text
Ready Player 01 | JJK x Reader | 🔞❤️☁️
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Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Reader
Genre: dystopia!AU, former Game developer!Jk, former pro gamer!JK, former IT specialist!Reader, former programmer!Reader, romance, Smut, slight cyberpunk elements
Warnings/tags: injustice, forcefully controlled public, violence (police/government officials against citizens), unfair powerplay, interrogation, tech talk, Jungkook be antisocial as FUCK but so is the reader lmao wbk, fear of physical contact (Haphephobia), past trauma and mentions of a bad childhood, insomnia, crime, smut because yes it’s me hello my content isn't kiddy-proof in the first place what yall want from me I'm not sure, but that’s waaY at the end ya know, friends to lovers, a slightly sassy AI but we love her, reader struggles with emotions, I mean same tbh, they're both so sweet tho I cant, not proofread because let me live
Summary: there’s a war going on; silent, but it’s there. Media has been strictly become controlled and regulated- to the point of making it illegal to own a TV or phone with internet access without a valid license. But there’s always some people that will try to break free from the controlling force.
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"-a new age. This is a new year. And remember; we're doing this for the greater good. Until tomorrow." The news reporter stops talking after she somberly looks somewhere behind the camera that is pointed at her.
Your room is dark- the TV brightness on it's lowest setting so you can see what's going on- but outside, no one can see the light shining in your tiny apartment. Investing in blackout curtains had really paid off at the end of the day.
You don't want to get caught.
There's an announcement van driving past your window; the tiny slits in your curtains where the light from outside can creep its way inside brightening a bit as the headlights pass your windows. Something is spoken, and by now everyone knows the routine speech.
"Electricity will be shut down in five minutes. We advice to save all progress immediately- and we wish a good nights rest. Electricity will be shut down in five minutes..-" It repeats, over and over, counting down the minutes. You slowly move into your kitchen, opening one of the loose floor tiles to turn on your own emergency electricity system. With well practiced movements you close the tile again, moving the rug over it as you walk back into your living room, swiftly sliding the TV behind your wardrobe to make it disappear. As if on cue; there's a knock at your door.
The same as always. Routine. Two times, loud and clear. You don't even have to look through the peephole to know what awaits behind it.
"Yes?" You ask, rubbing your eyes as if you had been already asleep. The officer behind the door nods at you shortly, a mild smile on his face as he looks down at you.
"We didn't mean to wake you miss. Just routine, as usual." He says, peeking into your apartment to look for any electronics still running. It's pitch black however- so he simply nods, as his colleague notes something into his tablet. "We wish a good nights rest miss. Again, sorry for intruding." He apologizes, and you nod, closing the door.
Only when the street lights turn dark, do you move from your bed.
"Creator." The AI voice chimes up, her voice greeting you as as you lift the tile on the floor again- your phone connecting to the AI to show information you instantly decode and note down inside your head. "Player01 has just connected." The voice states, and you sit down on your cold kitchen flooring, smiling a little. "He has sent a message. Would you like me to play it?" The voice asks, and you take a deep breath.
"Yes." You say, and there's a small sound indicating the start of the voice message. A male voice is head.
"Hey, whats up?" He asks, and you can hear something in the background- maybe an empty can or something similar. "I uh.. I'm on my way. Should I bring anything? Ah wait, I know the answer to that.." He says, chuckling at the end of his sentence, and you can hear him zip up his jacket as he moves around. "Yeah uh.. just text or something, I'll bring stuff over. Can't have you starve." He ends, and the AI speaks up again.
"Would you like to repeat the message?" She asks, and you shake your head at her; a signal the artificial intelligence has come to detect quite well. "Should I archive it?" She questions again, and this time, you nod- something your invisible assistant can pick up due to motion sensoring.
"Send him a message." You say. "Tell him: I only need you. Get yourself here in one piece and I'm happy. And I'm very capable of taking care of myself." You state, and your phone shows a small loading message- indicating that the voice is doing as you said. It chimes up after a moment. "Thanks Kana." You say.
"No problem creator. Would you like for me to run through the databases now?" She asks, and you nod, a smile on your face. "Database search in progress. Estimated time: sixteen minutes and eighteen seconds." You huff out a breath as you look at the tiny display on your arm; tiny, yet powerful as it's your way of keeping Kana- your AI assistent- close at all times. Tonight, there would seem to be a lot to dig through.
They really added a lot of content these days.
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It's not the door that makes you notice that there's a visitor after a while- He never uses it anyways for some reason. You're sitting on your kitchen floor with a small cup of tea in your hands- kept hot inside a slightly beaten-looking thermos can since you can't use to water boiler at night. Using anything other than Kana would cause a spike the police would be sure to notice; and you're not ready to get caught yet.
Not tonight.
It's a boy who, after a moment, opens the unclosed kitchen window to climb in; his combat boots getting a little snow and dirt from the outside into your apartment as his 80's looking jacket makes distinctive noises as it brushes against the sides of your window. His blonde hair has grown out a bit these days you notice- the roots clearly showing. It's a little wet and slightly curly from the moisture. It must be snowing outside- or maybe it had. You couldn't know for sure.
You never left your apartment.
He closes the window after slipping on the tiles inside a little, the plastic bags noisy as he almost drops them- sheepishly taking off his boots as he smiles at you. His socks are different from one another- but that's another thing so distinctive and just so.. him. He's his own person, always has been; it's what brought you two together, after all. You both stood out against the 'regular public' these days; with his brightly almost white-bleached hair he was like an albino in a sea of crows.
But you knew he didn't need that to stand out to you.
You can still remember the first few times the boy in front of you has visited you; the times where he had just dyed his hair to rebel out, or when he pierced your ears in exchange for you to do it to him as well. It was like you had made a blood pact in your kitchen that night- you had somehow gotten closer, formed a little more than just a simple companionship in order to riot against the law. He began growing close. Gave you a nickname. Began calling you his player 2. Began calling you his 'ace'. He had explained that he thought of it from memories of his gaming days; the two fighting teams always called red and blue, and one of his favorite weapons having that nickname- simply because it always 'saved his ass last minute'. He had rambled on about his last tournament after that, eyes sparkling and cheeks round from cold noodles.
You had become friends.
"hey." He says after sitting close across from you on the cold floor; the opened tile and Kana's core exposed to you two, the only source of light apart from your bracelet. The colorful LED's paint marks on his face and illuminate his features to you; but it does the same to you from his point of view. It's a familiar sight. "How are you?" He asks, almost shyly, but you know that's not what's bothering him.
"Hey Jungkook." You simply say with the hint of a smile, as you answer him. "Haven't slept well these days but, what's new I guess." You chuckle, and Jungkook smiles too- though a glimpse of concern is still shown your way. He knows however that forcing you to sleep won't do much good- your insomnia was too bad to really conquer it in a day or two just by taking naps.
And also; who was he to talk about solving personal issues.
"Have you seen the most recent reports?" You ask him, and the boy somberly shakes his head.
"I was unable to." He states. "They were patrolling close to my apartment complex because there had been someone reporting a Glitcher today." A 'glitcher'- a slang word now commonly used for people like Jungkook and you. People who went against the nightly routines, people who tried to trick the system by using electricity at night, owning media, consuming it, or dealing with it. It somehow became worse than underground drugs. "They pulled him out at around twelve or so- but they seemed too on edge the entire day, so I didn't risk it." He says, and you nod. Jungkook had always been a very good person when it came to calculating risk versus reward. He was good at reading people too- even though he didn't interact much, he got out of his apartment a lot more than you did. "Anything important?" He asks, and you shrug.
"There was a report that China and Japan were still on edge- with the chinese government arguing that they would soon start with 'more drastic measures to get things under proper control', whatever that means." You say, and Jungkooks brows furrow as he starts to pick on the skin of his jaw. "Let's just hope the flood doesn't throw us under the sea as well if it escalates I guess.." You say, and the boy across from you nods.
"Creator." Kana's voice chimes up, making Jungkook look up before remembering that the only source would be your bracelet, which you look at as well. "My scan of your body shows that you have not consumed a sufficient amount of calories today. I recommend a meal in the next five to eight minutes to avoid malnutrition." She says, and you groan. "I take this as a form of verbal communication. Running data search..." She says, as Jungkook looks at you; thoroughly amused by the teasing banter between the AI and his friend. "My data search concludes that you are annoyed, creator. I have only stated a fact however-" She continues, and Jungkook steps in.
"I've brought some leftovers from my dinner today we can eat." He says, pulling out some plastic containers as he moves to get proper cutlery out of your drawers. He makes sure to push them towards you, making sure to nod with a smile as you nod and thank him a little embarrassed. "It's nothing. You know I love you too much to let you starve!" He states with a grin, bunny teeth on full display as bitterness creeps up your throat- something you make sure to swallow down before beginning to eat.
Because the kind of love he's talking about right now, is not the kind of love you want him to feel for you.
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"You forgot to give it a proper validation there-" He points out as you type away. "Otherwise it will just run instantly, and everything at once. That could crash older systems, and we know that V95 uses an older laptop, so we should take that into account." He says, and you nod, clicking back to the spot Jungkook is talking about.
This is what you're both good for.
Writing code for you had always been something you did with a passion- simply because you were good at it. Numbers and short phrases were something you could remember with ease; but you never had to think much about the visual aspect of programs in your department back when you were able to work for a simple programming company. You had simply always been tasked to program security systems and automatically updating firmware, or simple AI's for factory robots. Jungkook however had been all about the visuals; he had been programming games after all. That's why you two fit so well together in this scene. Whenever he would be in complete awe of the broad knowledge you had about official guidelines and security breaches, of staying undetected and unseen while still gaining as much as possible from every single line of code, he could always throw in his input to make sure the program you were both writing and updating for the glitch community was easy to use and simple enough so it could run smoothly on as many systems as possible. Be it phone, laptops, PC's- you two made it possible.
This program was connecting Glitchers all over the globe- and with yours and Jungkooks knowledge, you made it almost invisible. And even if it was somehow detected; there was no possible way to track down any of it's users.
The fact that you had to hide a simple program from the government made you sigh.
"Okay. Yeah I think that fixed the bug." He says, and looks at your arm- at Kana. "Oh, by the way, Kana?" he asks, and the chime gives him the cue to talk. "I heard you had a bug-fix too recently." He says, and the AI chimes again.
"I did, Player01." The AI answers. "The addition of code to my current program has proven to significantly increase my ability to observe and save more data." The female voice answers, and Jungkook grins. "You are happy, Player01." She states, and he nods.
"I am." He says.
"Why is that?" The AI asks, and Jungkook shrugs.
"I'm just happy you're doing well. Someone has to take care of ace when I'm not close by, yeah?" He states, and you try not to react to it. Jungkook is by now used to your more stoic expression; you're not too emotional and barely let things get under your skin. You've been hurt before, he knows this even if you never told him- he can see it in the way you hide inside the safety of your home, how you're so cold on the outside but still clinging onto him. Sometimes he wishes he could touch you; run his hand over your head to ruffle your hair like in those cheesy movies, hold your hand, or simply give you some reassurance in the form of a gentle hand on your back whenever you struggle.
But he's got his own demons, and they love clinging onto him just as much.
"V95 has connected to voice chat. Would you like to talk to him?" Kana states, ripping him out of his thoughts as he watches you nod.
"JK? Y/N?" A deep voice asks.
"We're here. Heard there was a raid close to you?" Jungkook asks, and he can see you grow a bit more serious at that. "Are you okay?" He adds, and V answers, although quite.. tired?
"I'm good. They got Jimin though." He states, and you sigh, running a hand through your hair as you stand up, frustrated. Jungkook knows you're trying to calm down by pacing. He doesn't mind. "They didn't officially arrest him, took him for 'questioning' though. We know what that's about." He states somberly, and Jungkook takes a deep breath.
"Jimin is a master manipulator V. He'll get himself out of it, I'm sure." Jungkook tries to reassure, but it doesn't gain him much than a hum from Taehyung on the other end of the line. "What about Sleeper?" He asks, and a chuckle is heard.
"He's been checking the videofeed from inside the past few nights. He said he's send some of the big bites to Ace though?" He says, and Jungkook looks over at your form.
"Yeah I've seen it." You simply say, though Jungkook grows uncomfortable with the way you're suddenly standing there. You're a little hunched, biting the skin on your thumb as you look at the tiles as if they suddenly began to move. He knows himself that things inside the 'rehabilitation centers' weren't all that nice to see- but you rarely ever displayed so much distress over it. "Let's just hope Jimin get's his ass out of this situation. We can't afford to loose him." You say, and V stays silent before he sighs.
"Yeah. I tell sleeper you've seen the stuff. Oh, and our prince charming has asked for a date with Ace. Again." Taehyung chuckles, and you groan- while Jungkook can't help but clench his jaw. Kim Seokjin was a very good asset to the team; with connections reaching deep inside the government and his position as a former lawyer- but he still hated his guts.
You didn't need to waste your time dating. You were totally capable of taking care of yourself, you had even said it personally! And for anything else Jungkook would provide for you. You didn't need anyone else than him.
He was totally not jealous of him.
"Can he not use our underground connections for that circus?" You say. "I don't even go grocery shopping, why would I want to go on a fucking date?" You mumble, sitting down next to Jungkook as you take a spoonful of rice. Jungkook feels a weird sense of satisfaction about the situation.
"Who knows." Taehyung says. "Alright, 10 Minute mark- I'll hear from you two soon. Take care." He says, and you both say your goodbyes before the line goes silent.
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Although Jungkook hates physical contact, he likes keeping you close.
His heart is melting like chocolate as he notes the way your hand grips his jacket tightly as the two of you walk through town to get your license renewed- a way of holding onto him, and he somehow wishes it could be his hand. He knows yours would fit so perfectly in his, and yet he can't bring himself to do it.
His body is not cooperating.
He remembers vividly how his fear had developed; with his father and mother both being dramatically overworked and overwhelmed with having a kid at a young age, they had no idea how to make a child behave. Every second touch would bruise, every time he had been held would be force.
And at some point, he started to dislike physical touch completely.
It had just been like his growing interest in freelance climbing- the way he would walk and jump high over the heads of unsuspecting people, away from all judgemental gazes they'd throw his way for behaving the way he did. Only when the wind could hit him freely, only when he couldn't make out faces of anyone down below, only when he was high up- that was when he felt safe. The ground below had nothing of interest for him, no point in going down, as his apartment was located on the top floor of the complex. Jungkook never took the elevator, always the stairs.
He liked being reminded how high he lived.
And yet, there's one thing that pulls him down, brings his feet to the earth below, calls him like a siren song. It's you, hidden away from everyone's sight inside your tiny home, just as troubled and judged as himself.
He'd fallen in love with you the second you told him his name.
It had been a rainy night, his clothes drying on your heater as he was wrapped in two of your blankets; the smell of your fabric softener and something so typically you surrounding him like a mother's hug would a child. It had given him a feeling of comfort he had never quite experienced before, and it had also been the first time he had imagined what it would be like to hug you.
To have you close.
He had explained to you why he had freaked out when you reached for his arm to steady him when he almost fell inside your apartment through your window; had apologized and bowed his head in shame until you had simply shrugged.
"You don't have to justify yourself to anyone, Jungkookie." You had said. Jungkookie. "You're you. And I like you." You had said, not looking at him as you typed in some code to Kana's internal system.
His heart had warmed up at that.
And while you had accepted him, he had accepted you just as much. While at first caught off guard by your quiet and sometimes harsh way of treating him, he had also gotten to know just how gentle and delicately you treated the ones you loved. You were a loyal person, always going out of your way to be helpful, and silently basking in praise any time it was directed at you.
He loved that view. The way your cheeks would grow warm, how your eyes would sparkle; and he loved most of all, that he had been, according to Taehyung who was the second closest to you, the only one to see you smile.
You even laughed with him.
It filled him with pride to know that you were able to let go around him, even if it was just a little. It made him feel like he did something huge. It helped him sleep at night knowing that you were trusting him enough to let down your guard a little.
And it hurt him even worse knowing that he couldn't do the same thing for you.
He was a coward-
and you deserved a hero.
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"Ace?" He asked, slipping through your window as he noticed the apartment silent and dark. Nothing greeted him. "..Ace?" He tried again, maybe you were asleep? But your apartment was quiet, empty, nothing spoke of your presence. Dishes were in the sink, a cup of water left untouched on the counter, and something inside of him churned painfully at the way this looked. He checked the kitchen tile, sliding it to the side like he's seen you do it countless of times.
It was dark.
Instead, he was greeted by a post it note. "Underneath the bed. Take care." Was all it read. He stood up, pushing your bed away from the wall noticing how your carpet had been torn a little. And as he lifted the cut flap of carpet, there was an envelope.
Your watch. A small in-ear piece, and your old IT-identification, folded.
A noise outside your hallway made his head snap up as he pushed the bed back into place, making an escape for it as he climbed outside the window, watch safely inside his jacket as he climbed back up on top of a building, before he examined it further, turning it on, after putting the earpiece in.
"Hello, Jungkook." Kana greeted him, and it felt weird to hear the AI say his name like that. "Creator has advised me to answer all questions you might have, and assist you from here on." She said, and Jungkook simply put the watch on, making his way to his own apartment.
"What happened?" He asked, his face serious as he walked.
"At around 6:12 O'clock, creator was taken into further questioning regarding illegal possession and knowledge of classified information and technological equipment. She had shown no resistance and complied with authorities. My observations however showed that she was taken with more force than necessary." Kana explained. Jungkook shook his head. "She had prepared for this instance during the night, approximately twenty-six minutes after you had left."
"She knew?!" He suddenly said, shutting his apartment door violently as he started to pace around, throwing his jacket on the couch. "Why didn't she contact me?"
"Analysis; your body shows signs of-" Kana started, but Jungkook interrupted.
"Shut up. Why didn't she tell me?" He asks again, and Kana seems to hesitate for a moment.
"Considering her close relationship to you, she probably wanted to not get you involved." She stated, and Jungkook sighed, sitting down on his couch as he gripped his hair. He should've stayed. Hell, it wasn't the first time he wanted to stay. He had dreamed of staying over, of fucking living with you for months to no end by now, but he was a coward. And this was his paycheck.
"Kana." He said lowly, and the small tune gave him the cue to talk. "Contact V95. Tell him it's urgent. We got an emergency." He says.
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"I can't watch this." He says, jumping up and holding onto his head as to not punch his wall, unable to go through the videofeed of your interrogation room.
There's not much to see, but Jungkook knows that's simply because they haven't had the time to see to you yet. You and him knew best what really happened in these rooms, and he hated knowing that deep down they wouldn't go easy on you simply because you were a young woman. It didn't matter to them.
He'd seen teenagers way younger than you and him getting the rough treatment before- and elderly didn't get spared either.
The government bragged about having everything in order; yet they couldn't even control their own law enforcement it seemed. When he really thought back on his history lessons in school, not much had changed at all.
The world was still in utter chaos.
His palm shuts his laptop harshly- earning a tiny chime from the AI he’s already forgotten shares his home with him now. “I suggest that you practice care in treating your electronics to-“ he groans, successfully shutting it off at that. “Why are you frustrated?” It- she? Asks, and he sits down.
“I don’t know how to help her.” He admits in shame, thinking back to the footage of your hidden camera; the way they had pushed you to the ground, before grabbing you, leading you out of your apartment a few minutes away from him. “I don’t know what I should do.” He says.
There’s a bit of silence, until the AI speaks up again. “Do you have a romantic interest in my creator?” She asks, and his head snaps up at that.
“What the fuck? Why would you ask me this?!” He barks, unsure where to look since he can only hear the voice.
“I have observed both my creator and your behaviors; you seem to have a very deep rooted interest in each others well-being and opinions. This is commonly found in partnerships. I was only asking you to confirm if my assumption is correct.”
He’s silent for a moment, until he speaks again, watching the announcement van pass his window; voices dull and unintelligible though the walls and windows. “It’s no use anyways. Who wants someone they can’t even shake hands with?” He sighs, looking into his lap again. He hates that he’s like this; that even though he very much loves and adores you, there’s no magic moment that makes him forget- even though he craves the contact, he can’t do it. Every time he’s close to you, he knows that he could simply hug you; or let you rest your head on his shoulder, like in romantic movies. He wants to hold your hand, wipe your tears- but his body won’t cooperate. He can’t do it.
Not even with you.
“Creator seems very comfortable with you.” The AI states. “I have been asked to archive all text messages and phone calls of you two recently. When I asked for a reason, she claimed she would need it someday- I was unsure what she meant.” Jungkook furrows his brow, raising his head again. “Sometimes, when creator is deeply upset, she has the habit of playing some of the recordings of you singing, or reminding her to take care. My research has shown that it slows down her heartbeat to a more normal level and also improves her insomnia.” Jungkooks eyes widen at that.
Does that mean.. that you like him back?
"Kana, fuck- cut the feed." He says, agitated.
"Are you sure?" She asks, and he sighs, before yelling his frustration out, sitting down to take a deep breath. He slowly shook his head no. He couldn't let all your hard work go to waste like this.
He couldn't stay a coward.
"Jungkook, it appears to be that the creator is being let go." Kana suddenly chimes up, and Jungkook rushes to his pc setup to see for himself. And she's right- your arm is being held tightly, and something is being said to you, but your hands are no longer chained to the chair- you're free.
What just happened?
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Jungkook sometimes really hates himself for being the way he is.
There's no sugarcoating it that you need comfort now more than ever, even though you don't openly show it to him. He can see it in the way you're still biting your nails, he can see it in your eyes which never stay on one point for too long. And he can definitely see it in the bruises on your upper arm, and the cut on your lower lip where you had bitten in anger and frustration. He wants to comfort you, he knows you'd let him- and yet he can't move any closer than where he is right now; only the length of his palm of space between you two. And yet it's like his joints are locked into place. He can't touch you.
What if he hurts you?
And it dawns on him right then and there while he watches you drink your can of overly sweet soda while typing your code like second nature, that he's not scared of you hurting him. He's scared of doing to you, what's been done to him. Because deep down he is aware that his parents never had bad intentions, never hated him or wanted him to suffer; they were simply unsure and not at all confident in how to really care for a child. They had been caught off guard and gotten overwhelmed by the sudden shift in their situation that they never truly knew what to do. And nowadays he felt like he was simply heading down the same road.
He was starting to feel like he was becoming just like them.
"Hm?" You ask him, ripping him out of his thoughts as he looks at you, your eyes wide and worried as you put down your almost empty can of soda. "What is it?" You ask him, and he wants to scream. He wants to throw a fit like a child at the way you seem to worry for him every time you should worry for yourself. He's a coward, he's useless, he's everything you don't need nor deserve in his eyes, and yet you always look at him like he's the main character of your favorite movie.
If he was, he was sure he'd be merely a sidekick- because you deserved to be the focus of every story told in his eyes. And if you weren't included in the tale, he knew he didn't want to ever know about it.
He swallows, before he manages to make his hand move, finger pointing at your arm where a green-ish bruise already formed. "Does it hurt?" He asks, and he's not even sure if he's asking you about the bruise, of if he's asking something else. He doesn't know what he's saying, doesn't even know if he's asking you or himself.
"No." You answer, and he looks at you, searching for any hint of a lie in your eyes. But he only sees that slight smile, lips turned a little, almost unnoticeable. But its there, he can see it, and he wants to print it into his mind to never forget it. You were so observant, knew him so well, that he was almost certain you knew of his inner fight and what he really meant with his blurted out question. "Are you okay?" You ask him, and he swallows again, eyes stinging with unshed tears as his body grows rigid like an unoiled machine, only moving with as much force as he can manage to come up with. His breathing is heavy as his eyes can't leave the spot on your arm, and your watch him with wide eyes as his shaking hand slowly reaches out.
He doesn't know what he expects to really happen.
Maybe like those electric shocks you get when someone had rubbed their socks on a carpet before touching someone else. Maybe he had expected to recoil instantly. Maybe he had expected nothing- but he was suddenly in a rush the moment his fingertip touched your warm skin, delicate, soft, everything his rough hands weren't.
And you were still as prey in front of a wolf.
But the wolf in this scenario was holding his breath while his tears finally fell. He wants to speak, but he can't, he doesn't know how to ask for something when he doesn't even know if he wants it.
But suddenly he moves again, his palm now resting fully against your upper arm, shaking, as it moves over the length of it, softly, as he imprints the way your soft skin feels. "Jungkook.." You whisper out, and he suddenly snaps, leans forward, his legs on either side of your body as he snakes his arms around you from behind, pulling you close to his chest. You can feel him shake as he holds you, his cheek resting against your back and you don't care about his tears staining your shirt as he suddenly cries openly and possibly for the first time since he was a mere child.
He's unsure, overwhelmed, because you're so warm, you smell so nice, you're so soft, and he can't let go, doesn't want to let go. He whines out as you turn a bit as he thinks you're moving away but you're simply placing your legs over his as you sit in his lap, hugging him back as you make sure to give him a gentle squeeze.
He calms down after a long while of simply existing. Of breathing you in, of feeling you. "You're right." He whispers into your neck, and you can't help but shiver, leaning into his hug.
"It doesn't hurt at all."
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"You know, I get why you come up here." You comment, as Jungkook makes sure to hold your hand tightly in his, your feet dangling off the edge of the building you're sitting on top of. "It's nice." You say.
He's not listening that well though.
All he can really do is watch your face, illuminated by the neon lights of the city, hair swaying in the wind as you look down below. He doesn't quite know what you two really are, doesn't know how long it will take him to really come out of his shell and give you the love you deserve, but he's trying. He's fighting, he's left his cowardly self behind.
He want's to change.
And not just for you alone, because while he hates seeing you hurt, he knows what you two are doing- what all of you are doing- is for the greater good.
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Jungkook hates your ideas sometimes.
Simply because he knows they will work, but also end up with you getting into danger at the end of it. And just like now, all he can do really is hope that you make it out as he keeps a watchful eye on your movements from above, giving you directions via Kana as you sometimes trip and stumble a little.
You're not a very active person; running wasn't really your thing.
Fuck, you were basically a hermit, the most you walked around was from your bedroom into the kitchen!
But then again, sacrifices had to be made somewhere. And Jungkook really admired you; because every time he thought that you had reached your limit, you would face it head first and break through it.
"Ace, try and somehow get to higher ground. They're caging you in from all sides." He urgently tells you as he watches police chase you down the roads, pushing citizens aside to not loose sight of you.
The plan had been simple. Gain all the attention so Taehyung could infect one of the police station's servers with a new worm, giving you all a better and easier access to any data and communication of the area. Jungkook couldn't play the bate well enough; and you had been on their radar already, making you the best option to gain their interest quickly enough.
Although Jungkook hated that part.
"Come on, ah fuck it." He grits out, jumping down to grab a ladder, making his way to a nearby area he could pull you up. There was no way you could reach any of the fire ladders yourself, and by now, things were getting too hot for him to risk anything. "Here!" He barks out, not thinking twice about grabbing your hand and helping you upwards, trying not to worry too much about your heavy breathing. And then there's it.
A pop, loud, followed by another, and another, and another. You're suddenly falling, scraping your knees on the ground below as he can't catch you, too startled by the fact that they had actually decided to shoot to react quick enough. "Fuck!" He says, eyes wide and pupils blown as he looks at you.
"Jungkook, why the fuck aren't you running?!" You yell at him, a scratch on the top of your left cheek as you push his leg away from you- the only thing you can reach. "Go!" You bark again, and he growls out something, before he manages to pull you onto his back, adrenaline not letting his brain process what he's doing.
He can't just leave you.
"Taehyung, get out, Ace has been shot. Whatever was uploaded has to be enough." He says via the in-ear piece, doesn't wait for a response. He still gets it.
"Fuck, what?! Okay okay, I'm out" He says, and Jungkook can only catch a glimpse of the older man leaving the building via the backside entrance. He's only concerned with getting you somewhere safe.
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"Urgh." You groan, slowly sitting up on Jungkooks couch. "I mean, I know paintball hurts, but rubber bullets? Jesus.." You complain, while Jungkook looks at you with a dark expression. "What?" You ask him, and he huffs.
"You sound like you haven't almost been killed yesterday." He grimly says, and you shrug. "Stop. I'm serious." He tells you, and you let yourself fall back down onto his couch.
"Whatever. At least we killed their communication." You say, closing your eyes. "Must've at least pissed them off." You say.
"Kana." Jungkook suddenly says, waiting for the familiar sound to tell him she's active. "Shut down for now." He says, and you sit up, hissing instantly at the sudden movement.
"Hey- ah fuck!" You say, as you watch on your bracelet how Kana complies; shutting down. "Why would you do that?" You say in an offended matter, before you grow quiet, watching him go onto his knees in front of you, as he lets his head rest on top of your lap.
"I just want.. you to myself. Just.." He mumbles, and you slowly bring your hand to his hair. "Just for a moment." He says, and you sigh. Jungkook had been under a lot of stress recently, you no doubt being the main cause of most of it recently. So you simply let him be, as he closed his eyes. "Y/N?" He asks suddenly, and you answer him. "I love you." He says, and your body stops moving.
What?
"It's okay if you don't." He says, not moving from his spot, and neither opening his eyes. "I mean it. I only want you to know." He explains further. "Because I.. couldn't fucking live with myself if something happened to you, and I've never told you." He admits, and you can't help but stare at him. Jungkook looked down on himself so much that it was sometimes frustrating to see; simply because you saw him as such an amazing human being with countless talents and beautiful flaws.
You knew you couldn't muster up the strength to actually answer him; not so spontaneously. You weren't that expressive, you couldn't communicate as freely and colorful as he could. All your words seemed black and white to you, mixing into grey and mundane sentences while his words seemed to bloom into the most amazing paintings. He had a way of charming those around him- and he didn't even know.
You slowly leaned down instead, moving his hair to the side as you placed a feather-light kiss to the top of his cheek, close to his eye.
You hoped he would somehow understand you.
And as he moved again, looking at you with eyes that sparkled brighter than any city's skyline ever could, you knew he did.
He'd always understand you, no matter how you communicated with him.
You didn't need words to understand each other.
The shy kiss you two shared, bathed in the purple glow of the neon lights outside his window, spoke enough.
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"You should try and sleep." Jungkook tells you, taking away your can of soda as you whine at him. "No buts. Come on, I'll finish this for you." He says, and you let him take over the keyboard of your laptop. It's something you really only let him get away with- anyone else would've probably lost a finger or two trying to touch your work.
You don't trust anyone but him at this point.
"I know that Kana snitched." You comment, as you lean your back against his shoulder. He chuckles. "Can't believe my own creation goes behind my back like that." You mumble, and Jungkook has a light tune to his voice as he speaks.
"Well, it's a good thing though." He tells you. "I worry about you." He says.
"Ugh come on, you know that's not the part I meant." You laugh, and he grins.
"Oh, you mean the part where you listen to my crappy ass singing to help you sleep?" He tells you with a teasing undertone. "No wonder you got insomnia trying to find rest to that." He chuckles, and you playfully hit his thigh.
"Shut up, your voice is nice." You say, and he's glad your eyes are closed, and you can't see him blush.
Somehow, moments like these re-energized him again. Because it proved to him that there was still a piece of that innocent and untainted you inside that thick shell you had put up to protect yourself. And considering that you let him see you like that made his pride grow taller than any of the skyscrapers of his city.
Maybe one day the two of you will have a future together that won't be so difficult and unfair like your current one was. Maybe one day, you both will have changed enough to teach the next generation about what you've overcome.
But then again; living in the moment seemed to fit a lot better in his eyes, as he watched you sleep soundly against his shoulder.
Yeah, this moment was more than enough for now.
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The world won't change over night- you both know that. All of you know that. But small things were starting to make a difference here and there; for example, the letter you held towards Jungkook as his eyes widened.
"..and we have officially decided that we no longer want to participate in the case against the defendant. The result of this agreement is that all charges against Y/N L/N have been dismissed and are no longer being investigated." He reads out loud, almost whispering as if saying it too loud could make it a lie. "They let you go?" He asks, and you nod, the small bandaid on your cheek making you look even cuter in his eyes as you shrug.
"Jimin had reached out too. They've let him go home as well." You say. and Jungkook huffs out in disbelief.
After infecting the police station with the worm you had all worked on, you had scared the entire country enough to take a step back from the overall aggressive tone. It wasn't much- but it meant that they knew you were there. You existed, and you were not bowing down.
You were still untamed.
Jungkook smiled brightly as he put the letter down to the side, reaching out to you to pull you onto his lap. He simply holds you for a moment, his lips kissing the skin of your shoulder as if in a trance. "I love you." He tells you, and you smile, squeezing him a bit in your arms. "I really do." He assures you, and you nod.
You don't answer him, and he doesn't seem to mind as he leans back from you, his eyes crinkling at the edges as he grins, hands holding your face so delicately as he places a kiss onto your lips, making you close your eyes as he breaks away from you, letting you rest your head against his shoulder.
He's still not letting anyone very physically close other than you; he's still scared of going out and around like everyone else. You're still rather hiding inside his apartment- both of your apartment now- and you still have trouble sleeping.
But Jungkook keeps the nightmares away.
And you make him brave in exchange.
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It's really weird to hear the sound of a radio nowadays.
Things are still far from normal- but recently, citizens had been given radios to listen to public broadcast again. It only played crappy music with some rare good tracks here and there, but it was better than nothing.
Jungkook couldn't help but think that your breathless voice was far more entertaining than any music station he can remember from his youth.
While he hates touching other people, even friends and family, he can't help but feel a rush whenever he touches you.
His hands can't stop on one specific spot, can't seem to stay still even for a moment as his lips nip and suck at the flesh of your neck and shoulder, marking what's his, visualizing that you really belong to him. He bears the same mark on his collarbone from last night, and he should have been satisfied, but even an early morning couldn't keep him away from you.
The rain hit the window harshly, but he didn't notice at all. All his eyes could see was your form underneath him, skin glowing as he moves above you, euphoria filling his veins as he can't look away from where you're connected, where his cock disappears inside of you over and over and over again.
"I love you." He breathes out as he comes undone, holding you close, resting his head against your shoulder, as you hold onto his arms, a smile, a genuine and big smile thrown his way as he can't help but smile along.
"I love you too, Jungkook." You say, and he chuckles.
The radio in the background still playing, as you lay in each others' arms.
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(c)Bonny-Kookoo. Please stop reposting my content on AO3 thinking I won't find it. I'm literally everywhere you clowns.
To everyone else: Thank you for reading this mess- I really apologize for the messy storyline, but I just wanted to put this out before the entire thing escaped me again and I would end up struggling to find my way back into it (cough cough flashback to mean lmao). I promise to somewhat post more regularly. Thank you for your kind words and for sticking with me!
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sinner-as-saint · 4 years
Text
My Favorite Kind Of Night - 2.
Camboy!Bucky x CEO!Reader
Part 2 of this series
Run-through: On Friday nights, you are punctual to your virtual meet-up with your favorite camboy over a streaming platform, for your private stream session. You’ve known him for a couple of months now. He goes by the alias of ‘Winter Soldier’ on the platform, which is perfect for the kind of man he is; brawny and drop dead gorgeous. Over the past few months, he has become your favorite kind of night. And secretly, you became his as well. You two get closer over time, and things get interesting when your real, professional lives gets intertwined.
Themes throughout the series: sex worker!bucky, smut, phone sex, fluff, language, dirty talk
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James Buchanan Barnes walked into your office not even a minute after your assistant walked out. And you took one look at him and your jaw almost dropped to the floor.
He was tall, broad and very muscular. Blue eyes which made your knees weak even though you were sitting down. His button down shirt seemed so damn tight around his biceps that you feared they might rip at the seams anytime now. Well-groomed beard and a man bun – very few men could pull off this look, but he did so perfectly. You could tell he had long dark brown hair; tied up in a bun which made him look so manly and strong and still boyish at the same time. His facial hair made him look mature and wise and yet, he had a playful smile.
You immediately liked his overall demeanor. And you liked it even more when he flashed that million dollar smile at you. Also, there was something about him which felt weirdly familiar.
“Good morning, Ma’am.” He spoke in a deep voice. Like the kind of voice you know you’d never get tired of. Just the right in between smooth and gruff.
Oh fuck. You gave him your best smile. “Good morning, Mr. Barnes. Please have a seat.”
 You had to constantly remind yourself not to stare dreamily at him all throughout the interview. But God damn, James Buchanan Barnes was one fine specimen.
Better than Bucky? Your conscience asked and your eyes widened. Shit. You hadn’t thought about Bucky for even a second since James walked into your office. This man really had you under his spell, huh?
You asked him all the same questions you asked the other candidates, and his replies were well thought out. He was well spoken and carried himself with the right amount of confidence and ease. You could already see him fitting in just right with the rest of your staff. And he was perfectly qualified for the job as well.
You gave him another smile and spoke up, “Very well then, Mr. Barnes. We’ll be delighted to have you here with us. You may start as from tomorrow, is that alright with you?”
He gave you a bright smile back. “Of course, tomorrow’s perfect.” He stood up to leave and you shamelessly admired his back and of course, instinctively your eyes dropped to his lovely butt.
Oh damn. Was there anything about this man which wasn’t perfect?
Before he walked out, he turned around to face you again. “Have a nice day,” he spoke, catching you off guard, he added almost playfully, “Ma’am.”
“You too, Mr. Barnes.” Your voice sounded raspy and dry – mainly because he made you so nervous with just one look.
 After James Barnes left your office, you leaned back in your seat with a goofy smile on your face. There was this weird sense of familiarity which lingered around even after he left. There was something about him which made it seem like you had met him before. Had you come across him at a party before? Or seen him on a magazine cover because God knows he belonged on one with all that beauty. You couldn’t put a finger on it.
Regardless, he occupied your thoughts for quite a while. Around an hour later, your phone buzzed while you were typing an email. You checked and saw that it was an incoming call from Bucky. Oh?
You held your phone with nervous, shaky hands. Streams, chats and texting were one thing, but calling? He had never heard your voice and this made you nervous. Fuck it.
You answered the call. “Hello?”
You heard a deep voice groan on the other hand. “Fuck… your voice just had to be as beautiful as the rest of you, huh?” Bucky spoke in that smooth, velvety and playful voice of his. You noticed he sounded a little different on call than he did on video.
You found your face getting hot, your toes curling in your Louboutins and your body getting tingly at the sound of his voice. “But you haven’t seen all of me yet.” You obviously hadn’t shown him your face yet. Which was so bizarre that neither of you knew each other’s name, nor what the other looked like, yet here you were – shamelessly flirting.
He chuckled, and it sent chills down your back and caused the butterflies in your stomach to go crazy. “I don’t have to. I know all of you is beautiful.” He paused. “Also I should tell you, that photo of yours is making it hard for me to go about my day in peace.” He paused again. “Pun intended.”
You laughed and leaned back in your seat. You felt much better now that you heard from him. You had been moody all morning given he hadn’t texted you. But just hearing his voice set your mood straight.
 You two talked for about half an hour, carefully avoiding asking any personal questions about each other because you weren’t there yet and neither of you were sure what this… situation was nor where it would go so you both decided to just enjoy it and go with the flow. For now.
Your assistant walked into your office and motioned frantically to her watch – meaning you were a little late to a meeting. So you wrapped up the call with Bucky in the next minute.
“I gotta go. Duty calls.” You sighed, standing up and picking up your laptop.
He groaned again. “Time flies whenever I talk to you.”
You giggled. “Same here, Bucky.”
-
For the rest of the day, your thoughts kept bouncing back and forth from that flirty phone call with Bucky to thoughts of James Buchanan Barnes. Ah, what a pleasant dilemma it is having two hotties occupying your thoughts.
When you thought of James, your body tingled. The way he walked towards your desk; how he towered over you and how you liked it. How he looked at you with those intense blue-gray eyes, and how his voice carried this tone of comfort but also seriousness when he talked to you.
And when you thought of Bucky, you had more or less the same reaction. You had the shape of his body memorized. His voice when he talked to you on the phone, how he explicitly told you all the things he’d do to you. How goofy he was on text and how equally shameless on call.
Ugh stop. Bucky was a lovely distraction. He pleased you sexually despite being however many miles away and you paid him for it. That’s it. Right? And James was… well, your soon to be employee. You shouldn’t be thinking about him like that.
Oh goodness… what a mess. A hot mess.
 -
Bucky was a happy man when he left your office building and got in a cab, making his way to his apartment. He still could feel how nervous he was when he first entered your office. Mainly because of the interview but also because he had opened his favorite girl’s message right before he stepped into his new boss’ office.
That photo messed with him in the best ways possible. Thank God he was a man who had mastered control, so when he did step inside your office, he didn’t do so with a hard on in his pants.
When Bucky saw his new boss, his jaw almost dropped to the floor but he caught himself before he slipped. And gave you his best smile. The interview went well, he gazed at you whenever you looked away.
Good thing he got the job, which means this wouldn’t be the last time he saw his boss. There was a warmth radiating off the classy, elegant woman behind the desk, one which felt familiar weirdly. But he couldn’t place his finger on it.
As soon as he got home, he decided to call his favorite girl right away. And the minute he heard the lovely voice, all thoughts of his very gorgeous boss left his head temporarily. And he immediately wished it was Friday night already, where he could spend time and pleasure his favorite girl.
When he got off the call. He smiled at the thought of the woman whom he had been flirting shamelessly with for the past days. Then he thought about his boss. What a perfect little mess, being torn between two obviously beautiful women – not knowing who to daydream about the most.
 ---
Tuesday morning as you stepped into the elevator to go up to your floor, you sensed someone getting into the metal box along with you. You turned your face to the side and met with the prettiest stormy-blue eyes you had ever seen.
Your new office manager – James Barnes. Fucking hell.
“Good morning, Mr. Barnes. Ready for your first day?” you spoke, trying to act like you weren’t hot and bothered as you took in his appearance. The same well-groomed beard and slightly messy man bun. Dark blue button down shirt; which accentuated his eyes, grey tie and black slacks. His suit jacket folded over his arm. He looked good.
Better than good actually, he looked freaking hot. And you always were a sucker for men who knew how to dress properly.
He gave you a big smile. “Good morning, boss.” You chuckled at what he called you. “I am actually, and I promise not to let you down.” He spoke with a promise in his voice.
And you liked his confidence. His stance and demeanor screamed confidence, but not arrogance. Not one bit. “I’m certain you won’t.”
The rest of the elevator ride was spent in silence, both of you sensing the tension in between you two. You couldn’t tell if it was just a thing you had with elevators, or was it being inside a closed space with James which made you feel all hot and bothered.
On your way to the top, a couple of people entered the space as well. And in order to make room for them, James inched closer to you. And you could feel the smirk on his face as he did.
Lucky for you, he would work on the same floor as you. So you parted ways right outside his cabin.
“See you around, Mr. Barnes.”
“See you around, Ma’am.”
This time, the playfulness in his voice was hard to miss.
 Your phone buzzed as soon as you sat at your desk, signaling you had a message from Bucky.
Bucky: I hope you’re missing me. Because I am.
You giggled and replied right away.
You: Always am, soldier. Gotta go though, duty calls again.
Bucky: Are you bored of me already? Damn, and here I thought you liked me :(
You shook your head at his message, smiling.
You: I do! I promise we’ll talk tonight.
Bucky: Okay, doll. I’ll wait.
 You placed your phone down and got to work. There was a lot to be done today. Bucky lingered in the back of your head, but so did James. And you had to push aside thoughts of both men and get to work seriously.
 You were going about your morning just fine, free of thoughts of both gorgeous guys for some hours, when a knock at your door caught your attention.
“Come in.” you called. And in walked one of the most perfect man you had ever seen – James. “Oh, hi. How have you been so far?”
He walked over to your desk with two coffee cups and handed you one. You smiled and motioned for him to take a seat. “Great actually. I love it here. I was getting coffee and met up with your assistant. Then she mentioned your constant need for caffeine so I thought I should get you some.”
You smiled. “Buttering me up, huh? What did you do, Mr. Barnes? How bad did you mess up?” you joked, taking the cup from him.
He laughed. “None of that. Just wanted to see how my boss was doing.”
You giggled. You were sure that by now all your staff knew how much you relied on coffee to get through the day.  
-
You and James had a little chat – just about the company, and work and life in this city – before he had to get back to work. And even after he left, his cologne lingered in the air. You sighed in delight thinking about him. He was easy to be around and talk to. He was magnetic.
And the way he stared into your eyes when speaking made you all tingly and warm.
----
You got home and hopped into the shower. Your thoughts were again filled with James and Bucky. You made a mental note to call Bucky later since you had promised him so earlier in the day. But then, by the time you finished showering, a naughty idea formed inside your head as you looked at the large, floor to ceiling mirror in your bathroom.
You dried yourself, but on a flimsy black thong and posed in front of the mirror. Your arm shielding your breasts barely, as you snapped audacious pictures of yourself – naked, just in your thong; which also left very little to the imagination. Once satisfied, you selected a couple and sent them to Bucky.
Then you got dressed and lounged around in your bedroom; catching up on some reading, and responding to a couple of emails, until your phone rang again. It was Bucky, so you answered with a smirk.
“Hello Bucky.” You chirped, knowing damn well why he was calling.
He sighed, groaning. “Where are you?” his voice sounded so deep and raspy. The voice of a man who’s hot and bothered.
“In my bedroom. All alone. Why?” you acted oblivious.
He groaned loudly. “Get naked, and get on your bed. Now.” he ordered. Sounding so authoritative and stern that his voice sent pleasant chills down your spine, ending in tingles right in between your bed.
Woah… well you certainly didn’t expect that. “But… but today’s not our-,”
He cut you off by growling. “I don’t care what today is, babygirl. Your photos have me rock hard and now, I just need to hear you cum for me.”
Oh.
Your heart pounded at the sound of his voice. And at his request. This was new because he had never heard you moan, or orgasm before, it was always just him on video. This suddenly felt so intimate and it made you burn with desire and excitement.
“You…” you trailed off, not knowing how to reply to that.
He chuckled, and you could tell he had that god damn smirk on his face. “You heard me, babygirl. On your bed. Now.”
You trembled at the sound of his voice. “Okay.” You murmured and smiled as you got on your bed. You put the call on loud and waited.
“Now take off everything you’re wearing. I want you naked for me.” He whispered through the phone, his voice slowly but surely pulling you under his spell.
You took off the oversized shirt, and thong – leaving you bare in your bed. The dimmed lights only added to how hot you were feeling. Now all you needed was Bucky here with you, but unfortunately, despite however much you wanted him here in your bed physically, you’d have to make do with his voice alone.
“Are you done, babygirl?” he asked.
“Yeah.” your voice was just a little shaky.
“Good girl.” He purred and you almost audibly whined. “Now think of me and touch yourself.” he exhaled loudly, which gave away that he was probably touching himself as well. “If I was there, I would kiss every inch of your body, slowly… down your neck, your collar bones, and down your breasts… I would make you squirm and whine under me.”
You gasped as your cupped your breasts and pinched and tugged at your erected nipples. You imagined how those sinfully pink lips of his would feel against your skin. Warm and soft. He heard you, and chuckled.
“Are you wet for me, babygirl?” he asked, clearly smirking on the other end.
“Yes…” you whispered, voice barely audible as your hands slowly trailed down your body.
“Hmm,” he purred. “I wish I was there with you, in your bed. I would kiss my way down your body… your thighs, your pretty little cunt. And I wouldn’t give you want you wanted until you begged for it.” He chuckled. “Come on babygirl, beg for me…”
You whined loudly and obeyed. You begged, unashamedly, wantonly. And he was going crazy on the other end at the sound of your pleas. If only he could have you actually under him, he thought.
“Please Buck…” your voice hoarse and strained as you toyed with your breasts.
He chuckled. “Okay babygirl. You may touch your wet, little cunt for me.” He spoke, just a little breathless compared to earlier.
You lied down, parting your legs gently and touched yourself; imagining it was him. Your fingers slightly toyed with your folds.
“Feel how wet you are for me, babygirl? Fuck… I wish I was there to get a taste of your sweet little cunt. I’d put your legs over my shoulders, exposing you to me.” He chuckled darkly. “And I wouldn’t stop licking and tasting and eating out that little cunt of yours, fucking you with my tongue until you’re sensitive, and crying and begging for me to stop.” He growled.
Obscene sounds escaped your lips as your two fingers slipped inside your entrance with ease given that you were dripping by now. “Bucky…” you gasped, your body hot, your chest heaving.
“Hmm,” he groaned, touching himself at the thought of you. “I’m an impatient man, babygirl.” He chuckled again. “I would be so deep in you by now. Stretching you open, fucking you raw and making you scream and cum around my big cock.” He whispered, speeding up as he stroked himself.
Your back arched off the bed again, causing the air to mercilessly hit your bare chest and causing your nipples to erect even further. The pace at which your fingers effortlessly slipped in and out of you increased – your fingers brushing against every sensitive spot inside you; making you moan out loud.
He growled and swore under his breath as he heard you moan for him. “That’s it, babygirl, fuck yourself faster…” you did just as he asked. “Fuck, I wish I had you here on my lap. I would take you over and over and over again, just fucking you relentlessly, pumping my hard cock in and out of you until your body can’t take it anymore.”
You moaned out loud, back arching off the surface of the bed as you pushed your fingers deeper inside you; knuckles deep and you still wanted more. “Buck…” you gasped, swearing and moaning all at the same time.
“I’m right here, babygirl.” He whispered as he fisted his cock and threw his head back, grunting. “Are you close? Are you so close that you can’t think of anything else, huh? All you want is my big cock, isn’t it babygirl?”
You whined in response and he smirked.
“So desperate and needy, aren’t you baby? But don’t worry, I got you.” He groaned as he stroked himself faster. “Will you be my good girl and cum for me? Yeah?” he was starting to feel a little hazy, feeling his orgasm approaching fast.
You whimpered as you sped up your fingers inside you. “Yes… please Bucky.” You moaned and begged him to grant you your release. He was right, you couldn’t think of anything else. Nothing other than a certain man with a pair of blue eyes inside an elevator.
“Fuck… I love the sounds you make, babygirl.” He sounded breathless as he stroked himself, faster… and faster. He was groaning and clenching his teeth to keep himself quiet as he thought of a certain woman he saw this morning, behind a desk, looking like an angel yet so fuckable at the same time. “Come on, babygirl. Cum for me.”
The palm of your hands rubbed against your sensitive bundle of nerves over and over again; your moans got louder and louder as you felt your body getting warmer and warmer. You thrashed around and whined.
“Cum for me…” Bucky’s voice was a whisper. “Cum for me now!” he growled and you came around your own fingers as he came all over his hand. Both of you gasping, chest heaving and heartbeats ringing in your ears.
“Oh fuck…” you groaned as you let your orgasm wash over you.
Bucky panted, then chuckled. “Well done, doll.” he sounded so calm now that he had released all that pent up tension. His gorgeous boss, and then your photos. He was just a man, he could only take so much in one day.
You giggled as you came down from the high. “Now what was that, Soldier?” you asked, playfully.
He exhaled loudly through the phone and spoke, “Well, since we’re now friends, I figured I should also benefit from the perks of our friendship. Besides, you’re not exactly making it easy for me.”
You laughed. “Maybe I should do that often then, huh?” you teased.
He chuckled. “Like I said before babygirl, you can do and have whatever you want.” He repeated.
You smiled, part of you wondered why you thought of James earlier. And you got quiet for a minute. Bucky didn’t notice, because he too was wondering why he was thinking of his boss lady while touching himself just a minute ago.
“You okay, babygirl?” Bucky asked after a while, and you found your lids starting to droop a little.
You opened your mouth to speak, but yawned instead. Bucky heard and chuckled. “Yeah, just a little sleepy. I had a long day.”
He smiled and his voice came through the phone. “Get some sleep, okay? We’ll talk tomorrow.”
“Okay. Good night, Buck.” you replied, picking your phone up.
“Good night, babygirl.”
He ended the call and laid down on his back. Well, well, isn’t this a lovely way to end a night?
 You sighed as you laid down on your back, lying naked in your bed you thought of the day and smiled. James and Bucky were making your days much better so far.
Just as you were about to doze off, your ‘work’ phone buzzed. You picked it up from your nightstand, and checked it. It was a new number who had texted you.
-Evening ma’am, this is James Barnes. Your assistant suggested that you should have my number. Also wanted to let you know that I’ve emailed you all the necessary details regarding the new project. Which you are not obliged to check right away of course. I can wait, I’m a patient man.
You chuckled a little at his message and quickly added him to your contacts.
You: Very well, Mr. Barnes. I’ll check the email first thing in the morning.
He replied right away.
James Barnes: Alright. Good night, ma’am
You giggled, typing a reply right away.
You: Good night, Mr. Barnes
You threw both your phones aside and fell asleep feeling all tingly.
Was it because of the very steamy phone call with Bucky or was it because James – your new, very hot employee just texted you good night?
 Bucky put down his ‘work’ phone and fell into bed with his personal phone in hand. He played around for a bit, checked his socials then found himself staring at the photos you sent him earlier again. He sighed, smiling to himself.
He felt all warm. But he couldn’t tell if it was because of the phone call with you or because of the thoughts of his boss lady. Either way, he was a happy man as he fell asleep that night.
  Little did either of you know that the grand revelation was right around the corner…
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