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#strangely enough trying to come up with a little profile for him was the hardest part ughhh but i'm really happy with how both parts came
show-your-fangs · 9 months
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I hate seeing sad Hotch but what about Hotch being sad and feeling he’s inadequate but reader does a BIG/GRAND gesture and hotch is floored and becomes like cute puppy hotch and is all like 🥺
this was such a phenomenal request, i just had to add a sprinkle of angst and hurt/comfort bc i am a whore. hope you like it!
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Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x f!Reader
Words: 1.3k
CW: sad, very very sad, angst, sad boy aaron
Tags/warnings: established relationship, lover boy Hotch, reader works at the BAU but isn't a profiler (just in case you haven't read Moments), self-deprecating thoughts, Aaron thinking he's not good enough for Reader, fear of abandonment, Aaron crying, Reader comforts Aaron, super cute ending.
a/n: I imagine this is Moments AU Aaron and Reader after their relationship comes to light and they’re just dating and working together like adults after almost a year of secrecy, so it’s “new” in the sense that they’ve been public for only a few months. 
Disclaimer: YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION TO REPOST MY WRITING ANYWHERE ELSE WITHOUT MY CONSENT. REBLOGS ARE ENCOURAGED THOUGH. YOU MAY NOT FEED MY WORK TO ANY AI DATABASES OF ANY KIND OR TO USE MY WORKS TO TRAIN AI. FUCK AI.
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You hadn’t spoken to him all day, avoided him at all cost, not once stole a single glance at his office, at him. He didn’t think it was strange at first, you were both rushing to finish a mountain of paperwork that had just come in. 
He even ignored the fact that you hadn’t sought him out to have lunch together, claiming you were going out to run an errand. But then you left work early, so early in fact that the sun was still out. That’s when he began to panic. 
He knew he’d been a little distant recently. He’d had to miss your weekly date night twice, the second time having been the rescheduled date that he was convinced he’d be able to make. But no matter, he’d been called into a meeting just as the two of you were leaving the office. 
You’d been understandably upset. When he returned home to his apartment where you’d been waiting for him for the past few hours, you immediately got into a very heated argument, one that as much as he knew was coming, was still incredibly painful. 
But that had been a couple of weeks ago, you’d worked through it, talked it out, were done fighting about that. Or at least he thought so. 
He knew he was lucky to be with you, unbelievably lucky in fact, and he tried to often show you just how much he appreciated you sticking around after everything he’d been through, after everything you’d been through together. 
And yet he couldn’t help but feel like you would be so much better without him, that if he wasn’t holding you back you could be doing so much better. Your career had stalled because of your relationship with him, you were stuck in an endless cycle of having to comfort him, reassure him that everything was going to be alright when he should be the one doing this for you.
He’d caught you laughing, unrestricted, completely set ablaze by emotion a few days ago, and what had struck him hardest about such a normal display of happiness was that he couldn’t remember when he’d made you laugh like that last. 
You deserved the world, deserved someone who would show up for you, who would sacrifice everything for you, and as much as he wanted to be that person, he was also terrified of what he would have to do in order to become it. 
But he really wanted to, truly wanted to try, to make this work, to prove to you that he could do it, that he could be the man you needed him to be. 
He’d left the office the earliest he’d had in a while, making an effort to leave the paperwork he hadn’t been able to get through on his desk. He could get to it tomorrow morning. Tonight he would show up for you, to his apartment where he knew you’d be waiting after you’d unofficially moved in a week earlier.
He had plans to surprise you with dinner from your favorite restaurant, draw you a nice bath, and practically spend the rest of the evening on his knees, worshiping you like a goddess until you simply couldn’t take it anymore. 
He was practically buzzing all the way up to his apartment, excitement washing over him like a drug, euphoric and calming. He’d opened the door quietly, not wanting to alert you of his presence quite yet. 
But when he finally took in the room, fully dissected what he was seeing, the bag of take out, his keys, and his work bag fell from his hands, loudly banging against the wooden floor. 
You practically bolted out of the room, terrified, like a deer caught in headlights. You only calmed down when you noticed it was him, the hand that held a hair brush like a weapon lowering as a realization flashed over your features. 
He’d caught you in the act, caught you in the middle of…packing your bags and leaving him. 
No, this couldn’t be happening to him, not again, not like this, not you. 
“Honey,” he managed, his voice unbelievably small, on the verge of breaking apart. “What– we can talk about this, please, don’t– please don’t leave me.”
Your brows scrunched in confusion, slowly straightening, readying yourself for what you believed would be another fight. That’s when your eyes darted towards the spilled containers on the floor, his keys and bag to the other side of him, discarded. 
“I know I messed up, I know I shouldn’t have gone to that meeting, I should have told Strauss to wait until the morning,” his voice was cracking, pathetically, and he wanted nothing more than to have this conversation in the most composed way possible. 
But he had not prepared himself to find you like this, to find you in the same way he’d found Hayley all those years ago. Only then it had been his things, and tonight they were yours, and that somehow stung him even harder because last time it had been her kicking him out of her life, and tonight it was you removing yourself from his. 
You still didn’t move, your confusion slowly starting to turn to concern as he dropped to his knees in front of you, quite literally getting on his knees to beg you to stay. 
“I don’t want you to leave me, honey,” he pleaded. “Please stay, I promise I’ll do better, I’ll do whatever you want me to just please don't leave me.”
His hands wrapped around your legs then, face pressed against your stomach as he couldn’t stop the tears from pouring any longer. His entire body shaked, trembled, quacked against your own, his arms keeping you in place, stopping you from moving anywhere, even if you wanted to. 
“Baby,” you whispered and he only tightened his grip. So you stood there, let him get it all out as you gently ran your fingers over his scalp, shushing him gently as he sobbed. 
A few long minutes later, the sobs subsided into light tears and he let you unwrap his arms from you. You dropped down to your knees in an instant, cupping his face in your warm hands and pulling his gaze up to meet yours. 
“I’m sorry, baby,” you told him, wiping the wetness off his face with your thumbs. “I didn’t know this was bothering you so much, I thought we were done fighting about that.”
He let out a shaky breath, taking in the words you’d just said, allowing them to reassure his rapidly beating heart. 
“You’re not leaving?” 
“No, baby,” you smiled softly. “I wanted to surprise you,” you turned your body to the hallway leading towards his room, his own bags packed by the door. “I got Rossi to approve some time off for both of us – an entire week of sipping margaritas by the beach at one of Morgan’s friend’s resorts.”
His arms wrapped tightly around your waist then, pulling you further into him. “When did you– how did you? Why–”
“You’re right, that fight was awful, and I realized we both just needed some time alone together. To decompress and reconnect, just the two of us. What do you think?”
“I think that I don’t deserve you,” he confessed, the smallest hint of a joke desperately trying to hide the truth behind his words. 
“Oh, but you do, Aaron,” you kissed his nose. “You deserve this and so much more, I just need you to believe it. For me. Please?”
He nodded, his nose gently rubbing against yours before he leaned forward to press his lips against yours. They were a little salty from his tears and you took extra care to lap them all up, to clean his mouth of any reminder of what had just happened, a clean slate for the two of you. 
“I love you,” you spoke against his lips. 
“I love you too, honey,” he replied, placing another kiss over your lips before continuing. “So much it’s physically painful.”
You giggled then, light, airy, playful and carefree, and he couldn’t help but smile. Now this laugh he’d remember forever. 
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this was...wow. holy shit. i hated putting baby through that but i think he needed to hear that.
my requests are open for pretty boy hotch, be that moments, dbf!we shouldn't (and yet we do), rough hotch, sugar daddy!hotch, or whatever your heart desires.
tags: @canuck-eh, @ssamorganhotchner
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redvelvetreel · 6 years
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[ Red Velvet Reel AU - Character Profile ]
Name: Sans “Red” the Skeleton Age: 30-ish Species: Skeleton Monster Pronouns: He/Him Relationship: Single (?) Occupation: “Economic Officer” at the Monster Embassy Family: “Boss” Edge (Younger Brother), “Honey” Stretch (Brother-in-Law), “Baby Blue” Blue (Brother-in-Law), “Brat” ‘Pancake’ (Nibling/Sobrino) Background:  Originally from Underfell, Red moved into Underswap permanently with Edge at the same time. Initially, Red stayed in Stretch and Edge’s apartment as both Fell brothers adjusted to Underswap, but moved out an indeterminate time ago. He currently lives with Blue in a rowhouse complex with a lot of other monsters.  Design Notes:  *Wears a variety of large rings, some with fake jewels, that double as brass knuckles. *Jacket is a safety blanket of sorts- regardless of the weather, he always wears it. Unsure if its ever been washed. *Wears a guayabera under his jacket, and there’s always something in every single pocket. Prefers more unusual, dark colors, but will also wear white or pastels. *Velcro sneakers have a very strong  steel-toe. 
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Force Bond
Author’s Note: So I usually write my fics with female readers in mind, but I checked as much as I could in this fic and I don’t think any she/her pronouns are used, so I think it can be read as gender neutral! I hope you enjoy this, anon! I tried to keep it as close to your request as possible. And, as always, requests and open and feedback is much appreciated! Thank you guys, I love you all~
Requested?: Yes, by anon- “For Anakin requests, maybe a fellow Jedi who was a sith at one point but ran away from the master and turned to the light? Strong, confident but quiet person, but full of surprises 👀“
Summary: You sense the darkness in Anakin and help him overcome it.
Force Bond
Anakin Skywalker x reader
Word Count: 3.7k
Warnings: angst & canon-typical violence, also this definitely diverts from canon (like storyline) sooo yeah (and lmk if I ever miss any warnings pls!)
“I’ll be in the training room if you need me,” You tell your friend, Obi-Wan. He gives you a short nod before returning to his previous conversation with another Jedi Master.
You’re technically a new recruit to the Jedi Order, but you had already earned yourself the title of Jedi Knight. Although you had the skills and prowess to be a Jedi Master, you weren’t quite sure the Jedi Order trusted you fully yet. You see, you used to be their enemy. You were the Sith leader’s apprentice for years before you changed your ways and turned to the light. The Order had been skeptical of your arrival at first, but they eventually welcomed you and trained you in the ways of the light. Obi-Wan has been your friend, as he sees the difference in you, having known how you were on the dark side. Otherwise, you rarely speak to anyone. 
So far, you’ve managed to keep a low profile. While you are serious about being on the light side now, you know better than to cause any accidental trouble and hurt your chances of ever being trusted here. So you stay quiet and to yourself, hoping that no one will try to get their revenge because you have definitely fought many of them before on the other side. But, luckily, revenge is not the Jedi way. 
“When are you not training, (Y/n)?” A voice to your right laughs, snapping you out of your trance. You freeze, clicking your lightsaber off and attaching it to your hip again.
You look to your right to see Anakin Skywalker standing there, a small smirk tugging at his lips. You had never really talked to Anakin before, preferring to stay away from the troublemaker seeing as you were trying your hardest not to get in trouble here.
“Not one for talking?” He asks, and you realize that you had just been staring at him, immersed in your own thoughts.
You shrug at him, going to sit down on the side of the training room, done for now. He can have his training time, you just want to be alone.
“How about we duel, huh? We could use some combat training with other people, and I’ve heard that we are two of the most powerful here.” Anakin offers, going to stand next to you.
You look up at him, quirking one eyebrow up as if to say ‘really?’
“Oh come on, it’ll be fun.” He pleads. You stand up and make your way toward the door.
“Hey, listen, I didn’t mean to offend you or anything-” Before he can finish, you’ve shut the door with the force and readied your lightsaber. You step onto the training mat, ready to duel. Anakin jumps into action, not realizing that you were accepting his offer.
“One match.” You finally say, twirling the saber in your hand. He nods.
“One match. That’s all I ask for.” He agrees, a grin lighting up his features. It makes the corner of your lips tug up as well.
Once you’re both ready, you immediately lunge to the side of him. He does the expected, reaching out his saber so that you’ll run straight into it. However, you flip over the saber at the last moment and land on your feet, slicing your saber toward his back as you land. He quickly reacts, meeting your saber at his back with his own pointed down over his shoulder. The two of you make eye contact and you smirk, immediately swiping his feet out from under him and meeting his saber in front of him that slashes down. He’s now on his back on the ground as you stand above him, lightsabers locked in a fight for dominance. You take out your second lightsaber and lock onto his, providing double the force against him.
“Not fair!” He growls. After a few seconds, Anakin still manages to win the brute force battle and knocks you back a little bit, hopping up to his feet. You huff.
Fine. If you can’t win this with brute strength, you’ll just have to out-battle him with your agility and force-use.
The fight goes on for who knows how long, the two of you matching each other almost perfectly in your fighting ability and the force. No one has the upper-hand long enough to win, so it’s just a constant back and forth battle. Neither of you has tired out yet.
You can see the growing frustration in Anakin as the fight draws on. I mean, how could he not be frustrated? All of his life here at the temple he has been told that he’s the best there will ever be, that he’s the Chosen One. How can he not beat you, a simple Jedi Knight, if he’s the supposed Chosen One? You try not to dwell on his frustration as it isn’t your problem to deal with, but there’s something off about his frustration that you can’t quite place. It bothers you.
Mid-battle, as you slice at his feet, you feel a strange disturbance in the force. You reach out with the force, shoving Anakin back physically with the force and brushing against his force signature at the same time. As you do this, you feel a darkness in him that you hadn’t felt in a long time. This shocks you, causing you to gasp and pause in your movements for a moment, chilled to your very core.
As you’re paused, Anakin takes this moment to grab the upper hand and win. He uses the dark force inside of him to shove you with brutal force into the training wall, knocking the breath out of you.
You fall to your knees, gasping for breath as your lightsabers turn off and clatter out of your hands. You grasp at your throat, trying to breathe. There seems to be something invisible choking you. Then, the pressure is gone and you take a gulp of fresh air, sputtering and choking from your previous lack of air. You look up to Anakin a few feet in front of you who looks at his hands, fear evident in his eyes. 
“I’m...so sorry, (Y/n), please forgive me-” He rushes to you, reaching out to help you up. You hold a hand out in front of you to stop him, getting up yourself and recalling your lightsabers to your waistband. 
“Just...stay away from me.” You force out, calling your bag to you and swiftly making your exit from the training chamber. 
You’re scared of Anakin. And you’re scared of who he might become.
~+~
It’s a few days later, and you have tried your best to avoid Anakin at all costs. He’s tried to apologize or talk to you, but you always find ways to get out of the situation. You’re sure Obi-Wan is starting to get suspicious of why you’re avoiding Anakin, but you don’t have the heart to tell him of the darkness manifesting in the so-called Chosen One. A darkness you had sworn to never interact with again unless it was getting rid of it.
This time, however, you seem stuck in the situation. 
“(Y/n)!” Anakin force-closes the doors in front of you and to your right, leaving you no way to escape. You try to pry open the doors with your own force, but it’s no use because he makes it to you before you can even get the chance. He backs you into the corner, making every alarm in your head be on high alert.
“(Y/n), please, let me apologize.” His arms brace the wall on either side of your head, trapping you between the wall and his body.
“Get away from me.” You push him off you with surprising force. He seems surprised at your actions, as this could be considered an ‘outburst’ since you’re so quiet usually. You walk away from him in the direction he came from.
“What happened? I’m confused even by my own actions, please, you...you seem to know more than I do.” He calls out. You stop in your tracks, mentally cursing yourself for gaining empathy when you turned to the light side.
“You force choked me. That’s...typically known as a dark side power. I used to do it. Besides, I...I felt the darkness in you at that moment.” You murmur, voice barely above a whisper as Anakin approaches you again.
“The darkness...you felt it?” He asks, eyes searching your face for the truth. You refuse to look at him, but you nod instead.
“Then help me get rid of it.”
“What?” You ask, finally looking up at him. His eyes seem pleading.
“Help me get rid of the darkness in me. You know better than anyone else how to do that. Help me, please. You’re the only one I trust with this.” He takes your hand in his, making your eyes widen in surprise.
“I don’t know…” You sigh, glancing around.
“Please. You’ve dedicated yourself to eradicating darkness, now help me do the same.” He begs, keeping a tight hold on your hand. You sigh.
“Fine,” you concede, “meet me in the training room tomorrow after lunch.”
“Thank you, (Y/n). I won’t let you down.” He promises, a smile finding its way back to his face.
“You’d better not.” You scoff lowly before turning around and making your way back to your quarters.
What have you gotten yourself into?
~+~
It’s been a few months since you started training Anakin, getting rid of the darkness in him. With your help, you can confidently say that he’s almost completely back to the light again. There’s just a little bit more you have to work on, which is his aggression. He feels very deeply and that can lead to much anger in his life, which you’re trying to get rid of. 
You’re currently meditating in the training room with Anakin, the two of you sitting across from each other physically even though you’re worlds above mentally and spiritually.
“Thank you for all of your help these past few months, (Y/n), you...you’re amazing. I couldn’t ask for a better teacher in the ways of the light. You’re truly a beacon of hope in the Jedi and...I’m so sorry for what you went through.” Anakin tells you through the force. You smile.
“Anakin, I’m simply helping you be the best version of yourself. Everything I’ve helped you with has already been inside you, I just taught you how to enhance the light in every situation instead of letting yourself succumb to darkness.” You tell him. You had gotten more comfortable with Anakin recently and had started opening up to him more. He knows of your past in the dark side, what you did, and how you overcame everything. He also knows the guilt you carry from that time in your life, too.
“You’ve also...helped me with new feelings, (Y/n). I’m happier now because of you,” He admits, smiling bashfully at you. You tilt your head to the side, not quite sure what he means. Before you can ask him, you’re both broken out of your meditation trance by Obi-Wan.
“(Y/n), Anakin, we know who Darth Sidious is. It’s Palpatine. He’s been controlling both sides of the war- hurry, we need your help. We’re going to engage now.” Obi-Wan explains in a hurry, causing both you and Anakin to jump into action immediately. You grab both of your lightsabers and the three of you run down the hall as fast as possible to Palpatine’s office.
The information rocks you to your core more than you would like others to know. The fact that you escaped from the dark side and joined the Jedi Order to get away from the exact same man. The exact same man that was the leader of the Republic. You never escaped after all. You fell right back into his hands.
“Should we have a planned attack to execute instead of a thrown-together group of Jedi Masters and Knights?” You ask Obi-Wan as the three of you are running.
“There’s no time. He’s at his weakest point now, Master Windu almost killed him but he was thwarted. We need to strike quickly or he will become too powerful.” Obi-Wan tells you in a hushed voice. You nod solemnly.
You were hoping this moment wouldn’t come so soon. You were hoping you wouldn’t have to face your former master until you were ready. Funny how the galaxy plays tricks like this sometimes.
“Hey, it’ll be okay,” Anakin whispers to you, secretly grabbing your hand and giving it a reassuring squeeze as the two of you run behind Obi-Wan. You look at him and smile gratefully. He must be able to sense the nerves radiating off of you through the force because on the outside you look calm and composed.
“Thanks.” You smile back at him, squeezing his hand then dropping it before anyone might see the two of you and misunderstand the situation. However...you must say, your feelings toward the Skywalker boy were more than just friendly now. You’re not sure how to tell him, though, because of the Jedi rules. Maybe if you just ignore it, it’ll go away.
Sooner than you wish, you’ve reached Palpatine’s office and the doors are sliding open. You see your old Sith Master engaging in an intense duel with Master Windu, the sight striking fear into your heart. Darth Sidious is on the ground, using his force lightning that Mace is blocking with his lightsaber. Your breathing quickens slightly, and you feel your palms get sweaty as you unlatch both of your lightsabers from your belt. Anakin stands next to you, and Obi-Wan on the other side of you.
“Sith Lord Darth Sidious...you are under arrest in the name of the Galactic Senate of the Republic.” You say, surprising both Anakin and Obi-Wan that you spoke first. You ignite your lightsabers, watching the light color crackle to life in your hands. 
“Ah, (Y/n)...my old apprentice,” Sidious cackles, stopping his lightning and looking over at you. Mace lowers his lightsaber, looking over at the three of you.
“Thank you for coming to my aid, we must-”
Before Mace can continue, Sidious uses his force lightning again and catches him off guard. You gasp as Master Windu is sent flying out of the window, feeling you, Anakin, and Obi-Wan jumping into action. Obi-Wan attacks first and is eventually defeated and knocked out cold.
Next is Anakin. He runs at Sidious, and you watch the intense battle with fearful awe. You feel stuck to the ground where you are, the sheer power of the dark force in the room overwhelming you. Now that you’re faced with your former master, you’re not sure you can do it anymore. You love the light. You want the light. 
You need the light.
“You won’t get away with this torture anymore!” You yell, jumping into the fight beside Anakin. The two of you move together flawlessly, backing Darth Sidious up against a wall purely from the sheer power the two of you are exerting. He has a hard time blocking both you and Anakin’s attacks, especially because you have two sabers.
As you lose yourself in the fight, you see Anakin get force shoved into a wall and knocked out. You watch his body sink to the floor unconscious, causing an aching pain to seize hold of your heart. You look back to Sidious, seeing the hideous smirk growing on his face.
“Now the battle is balanced. Do what you’re supposed to do, my apprentice. Use everything I have taught you to finally kill me and fulfill your destiny of becoming the new Sith Lord. Take Anakin as your new apprentice. I know you can feel the darkness in him...and I know you want to succumb to your own darkness again.” Sidious tries to entice you. You feel sweat start to form on your forehead as you continue your unending onslaught of attacks. You’re starting to get tired after exerting so much force on holding back one being. One being that you know the strengths of. Sidious is much stronger than you, and he’s more than right. You won’t be able to beat him if you don’t succumb to the darkness, but if you do, you’ve still done what he wants. 
There is no win in the situation for you.
“I’m...not your apprentice.” You grunt, finally landing a blow on his side. He cries out in pain but it turns into a malicious cackle. 
“You’re on the edge, my dear. Just jump. Embrace the dark side as you once did.” Your sabers and his lock together, once again a fight for dominance. You push hard against his saber, hoping for him to give some slack. You feel a guttural scream rip out of your throat as you continue to press your hardest into his saber. He pulls back and pushes out again, knocking you onto the ground. You back up as he presses forward, disappointment in his hideous yellow eyes. You feel the same fear grip your heart, knowing this might be your end. Hopefully, Anakin and Obi-Wan will be able to defeat him together once you’re gone.
“If you can’t defeat me, (Y/n), then I guess you never deserved to be my apprentice. Maybe I’ll just kill you and then take Anakin as my own apprentice…” Sidious plots, stalking forward slowly. 
The thought of him even trying to turn Anakin to the dark side again stirs you into action. In a dash, you’re back on your feet and charging him again. He’s surprised, and you take this moment to slice across his stomach, gaining a scream from his lips. You smirk in satisfaction.
“I may have come from the depths of the dark...but I can assure you, Anakin will never head down the same path I once did. Through our bond, the dark side will be defeated.” You promise, watching him turn around. His eyes lock onto your form and you twirl your lightsabers in your hands.
“Through our bond...the dark side will be defeated.” You hear your words echoed from behind Sidious. You both look to see Anakin propping himself up against the wall, eyes closed as he shakily reaches out a hand to you. You feel his force signature sending power to you, strengthening you. You smile.
The smile is gone when Sidious charges at Anakin, deciding that he’ll have to get rid of at least one of you in order to escape.
“No!” You scream, pure terror ripping the instinctive noise from your throat as you rush forward and sink both of your sabers into Sidious’ neck. He lets out a screech and falls to the ground, dead.
Your breath comes out raggedly as you turn off both your lightsabers, letting them fall to the ground. You sink to your knees next to Sidious’s dead body, in front of Anakin. Your head is down and you don’t notice that you’re crying until you see the tears drip onto your knees.
There’s a hand on your shoulder, and you look up to see a smiling Anakin. You pull him forward and embrace him, exchanging no words as the two of you just bask in each other’s presence.
“You did it.” Anakin praises you.
“I did it.” You say, although yours is much more fearful. Anakin notices the tone.
“What’s wrong? He’s dead. You saved us all.” Anakin pulls away, looking into your eyes. You feel him reach up and wipe the tears from your cheeks.
“I-I killed him...I did exactly what he wanted,” You cry, meeting Anakin’s eyes with your tear-filled ones. Anakin’s gaze softens.
“No, (Y/n), you didn’t. He wanted you to kill him out of malice and darkness. You killed him out of righteous anger and light,” Anakin tells you, pulling you back into the hug. You grip tightly at his tunic, pulling him impossibly closer to you.
He’s right. You did the right thing. 
“You did it too, Anakin. You emanated the light. You helped me. You strengthened me.” You murmur, digging your head into the crook of his neck.
“Through our bond, the dark side will be defeated. You said it yourself, (Y/n). We’re beacons of light to each other.” He strokes your hair, and you feel your breathing start to reach a normal pace again. 
The two of you pull out of your embrace. Anakin looks into your eyes and you realize now the close proximity between the two of you.
His eyes flicker to your lips, and for a second you think you’re just seeing things. But then he leans forward and presses his lips to yours and you know that you’re dreaming.
“I-I think I love you, Anakin,” You whisper once the kiss has been broken. Anakin chuckles.
“I think I love you, too, (Y/n).” He whispers back, capturing your lips in a kiss once more.
“This has been a turn of events I can’t quite say I wasn’t expecting.” You hear a grunt from behind you. You break away from Anakin and see Obi-Wan propping himself up against the wall, a hand clutching his side as he does so.
“Master!” You hurriedly help him up, looking over to see Anakin standing up himself. You can tell they’re both hurt, and maybe concussed, but they’ll be okay. And so will you.
“Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone. Maybe...after what happened today, we can get the relationship approved. After all, I sense the force bond the two of you have developed. If this relationship is something the force wills, then who are we to deny the force of what it needs?” Obi-Wan chuckles, although it’s pained. You help him to the medic bay.
“And we will defeat the dark side, (Y/n). Sidious was the first step and the biggest obstacle. We will eradicate the dark from the galaxy.” Anakin promises you, holding your hand in his. You smile.
“Through our bond.” You nod in agreement.
“Our force bond.”
~~~~~
Tags: @anakinlove @official-hitmxn @rowley-with-ackerman
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sighjeongguk · 3 years
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↳ request!
↳ yoon sanha x reader
↳ words: 1104
↳ genre(s): fluff, friends to lovers.
↳ summary: you thought you were the only one who wanted something more, until sanha takes a step that neither of you anticipated.
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“You’re doing it again.”
         You blink, and immediately groan as you yank the pencil from your mouth. A bad habit that you’d picked up somewhere, chewing on the end of your pencil when you’re particularly stressed—and what else would you be but stressed when trying to trudge your way through a 4000-word essay?
         Sanha reaches over to pluck the pencil from your fingers, his face scrunched up in disgust as he discards it on the table. “Why do you even need a pencil?” He asks, gesturing at the open laptop sitting before you. “YN, it’s a digital paper!”
         “To doodle on my textbooks!” You huff, snatching the pencil from the table and scribbling in your textbook, just to make a point. “See!”
         Sanha huffs out a laugh, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he, once again, takes the pencil from you. “Doodle later. You’re going to give yourself lead poisoning at this point.”
         “Don’t be dramatic,” you scoff, but do as he says, letting the pencil be abandoned on the table and turning back to your essay. 300 words left, but the last hurdle is always the hardest. When you find yourself running out of things to say just as the word count begins to seem bearable.
         250. You think back to two days ago, when you’d started this essay, confident that you’d fly through it. You hate that person. Too cocky, arrogant.
         248. The first hiccup had been two-hundred words in, when you’d seen how little you’d done and how much you had left. You’d cursed your professor for the essay.
         250. You’re never going to complain about a 2500-word essay ever again. How were you supposed to drag out a literary analysis for 4000 words when most of your notes were doodles? You glance sideways at a, rather unflattering, doodle you’d done of Sanha. Maybe you should have taken up Art instead of Literature.
         247. You’re going to scream. How do you write conclusions again? How do you wrap up 3500 words of pure crap in a nice bow?
         You don’t scream, but you do groan. Behind you, Sanha chuckles. It doesn’t stop even when you turn to glare at him; he simply gestures at your laptop screen once more, prompting you to focus back on your work. You regret asking him to come over. Normally, he’s around to distract you, but there are times—like today—when your stress radiates off you and he has no choice but to step in and help you focus, your best friend and greatest supporter.
         Sanha taps his finger against a scribbled note you’d left yourself sometime during your last meltdown, a suggestion for the ending of this godforsaken essay that won’t just be rehashing what you’d already said and instead wrap everything up tidily. You beam over your shoulder at him, then with a few sideways glances at the note, you bring your essay to a close.
 As soon as your essay is handed in, you reward yourself by smacking your head against the coffee table you’re sitting at. Thunk, thunk, thunk—you ignore the dull pain that blossoms on your temple. You’re trying to empty your head of the four-thousand-and-seventeen words, you think. You lower your head again, but this time it doesn’t hit wood. You let your head rest on Sanha’s hand for a moment—a brief, quiet moment—before lifting it to look at him through tired eyes.
         He puts your drink down on the table with the hand that wasn’t saving your brain, and settles himself comfortably on the floor beside you. He brushes your hair away from your face in a gesture that’s both familiar and strange. Familiar, because Sanha is your best friend, because he is often the one to do these things for you. Strange, because it’s more… intimate than usual. Too soft for a boy that makes fun of you with contagious laughter and shaking shoulders, who’ll call you ugly, gross, every name under the sun but still be the first to step up if anyone else said that to you.
         And now, he’s looking at you with soft smile, soft eyes, everything soft, soft, soft. Soft hand on your face, soft gaze coming closer; soft lips on yours. And oh, that’s new. That’s new and different and not at all what you were expecting when you started developing feelings for Yoon Sanha.
         You expected to ignore them, these feelings, to push them down and down until they disappeared altogether. You expected to daydream about kissing him. You didn’t expect him to kiss you.
         You almost chase his lips with yours when he pulls away, almost find yourself drawing closer when you’re supposed to be pulling apart. He averts his gaze immediately, looks anywhere but at you—the floor, the ceiling, the dust specks on the TV stand.
         He murmurs, “I’m sorry,” and you feel your heart break. Not because this is an unrequited love, but because you have both been labouring under the impression that it is. Because you know Sanha, you know he doesn’t kiss people on impulse. He must have been thinking about it for a while.
         “Don’t be.” You curl your fingers around the sleeve of his t-shirt, anchoring him in place. He is close to running and you know that. He would rather run and ignore this mess he thinks he has made instead of staying long enough to realise there isn’t one. “Sanha, I—.” The words catch in your throat, anxiety reaching up from your chest to grab them before they can make themselves heard.
         Sanha sighs, a heavy thing, and he turns his head just slightly. You can see his side profile and it is so, so pretty, but so, so heartbreaking. He looks defeated. “I’m sorry, YN. I just—I like you.” He smiles, but it’s a weak thing. “It’s dumb, I know—I’m sorry, but I promise—I promise I can move on.”
         “What if I don’t want you to?” He looks up at that, eyes blown wide, hope and fear blooming behind midnight irises. “What if—what if I feel the same?”
         “Really?” He asks, and you almost laugh at how quickly he goes from kicked puppy to overexcited puppy. You love him, so much.
         You nod, returning his hopeful grin. “Really.” It takes him barely a second to kick into action, for him to ignite your second kiss. When he pulls away this time, he’s still smiling. Heart full, you say, “I really like you, Yoon Sanha.”
         He presses a kiss to the tip of your nose. “I really like you, YN.”
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lucytara · 4 years
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Bumbleby. Blue. “And now that you’re here realized I need you for survival. I know from the awe in your eyes”
On the day of the reaping, Blake never expects her own name.
She’s never taken tesserae; her name’s in there six times because of her age, and that’s it. It’s her second-to-last eligible year, and she’s six among thousands. She has no reason to expect her own name when some girls in her class have their names in thirty, forty, fifty times - she brushes the nagging anxiety away for days leading up, finding comfort in the words of her family, in Adam, who’s on his last year and isn’t quite as lucky.
“Twenty-one times,” he says, but he’s still scowling. “Could be worse. But it’s still a flawed system. The poorer you are, the less value your life has. Here in Twelve? The Capitol doesn’t even think of us as people.”
Blake’s heard this speech a thousand times, but she hasn’t shared the hardest of his experiences and so she doesn’t stop him. “But what do you want to do, Adam?” she asks. “We can’t do anything. We can barely survive.”
She doesn’t miss the brief, scornful look in his eyes before he masks it with fire. She’s survived easier than he has, with her father as the Mayor, but it hasn’t been easy for any of them. “You’re right,” he says, though his tone’s taken on an odd, darkly thoughtful quality. “We can’t. But victors…” he trails off, shredding a loose leaf in his hand, strip by strip. “If I were a victor, I might.”
“Blake Belladonna!”
She rewatches the scene from third-person, as if it’s a dream she’s having, only it’s happening a split second after inside of her own skull. The perfectly manicured hand of their escort dipping a hand into the jar and pulling the crisp, white slip of paper with Blake’s name on it caught between her fingers. Her hazy, disoriented walk to the steps, the hem of her dress batting against her ankles. She’s not there. She’s in the Capitol, watching herself called to the death and starting, already, to murmur about her odds.
But Adam. She sees Adam perfectly.
Sees him step forward to volunteer for a boy whose name Blake doesn’t even know. Sees the crowd shifting uncomfortably, uncertain what to make of the move. Sees some of them clutching their hearts, some of them shaking their heads. And she sees Adam, unable to hide the victorious smirk in the corner of his mouth.
“I’m so sorry, Blake,” her father says, his hand on her shoulder as her mother embraces her, weeping. “I never wanted this for you. For any of us.”
If so many people don’t want this, Blake thinks numbly, why do we still have it?
Their mentor’s a woman named Sienna Kahn, now in her early thirties after having won her Games at fifteen. She’s tough, hard around the edges, as Blake imagines anyone would be who’s watched countless children die under their watch. Blake doesn’t understand, but she understands - Sienna doesn’t want to get attached.
She and Adam barely speak - her silence falls to the fact that she’s on her way to her own murder. But Adam’s?
Well, she’s seen this quiet intensity from him before. And he’s making plans.
There’s more to work with than Sienna thinks there is: for one, she and Adam both know their way around a sword, and she’s no stranger hitting a target with a knife. Teenage boredom, she says when Sienna asks, and despite the doubt, she doesn’t push it further.
I wanted to help people, is the real answer. When I saw how Adam had been treated, I wanted to help. And then I saw how many people were like him, I wanted to do more than that.
“Your father’s a good man,” Sienna says instead, arms crossed over her body. She’s holding a far-off look in her eye, and instantly Blake knows she’s being told information specifically because Sienna thinks she won’t be alive to repeat it later. “He fought for people the only way he could, and I’m sure he almost died for it. I thought he wasn’t doing enough, back then. But I get it now.” She fixates her gaze on Blake again, solidly in the present, still on the same train car to a mass grave. “What do you have to fight for, Blake?”
Adam’s listening for her answer, and she says the only thing she’s thought since her name was called the day before. “Honestly? I don’t know why we’re fighting at all.”
A smile works its way to the edge of Sienna’s mouth, but it isn’t happy. It’s full of regret. “Yeah,” she says. “I used to think like that, too.”
They watch the other reapings. There’s a pair of volunteers from One who seem like they come as a set, with equally stupid names: Emerald and Mercury. Then she only really remembers the girl from two, who looks fourteen and innocent, but Blake knows better. The red-headed girl from three, who stands tall. A girl from five, missing an eye. A large boy from eight.
But the one reaping that sticks in her mind from the minute she sees it is the reaping from Four.
A girl’s name is called, and there’s a brief bout of hysteria from the crowd while a girl with long, blonde hair tugs her back and volunteers in her place. The younger girl just screams, but the older girl - Yang - just stands on the stage, slowly putting herself back together. It’s like Blake can see it happening - see her locking her heart away. Putting all that love she has for her sister somewhere it can’t be used against her.
“Pathetic,” Adam murmurs, because he hates weakness. He’s proud to see himself volunteer, steady and confident. “To protect you, of course,” he clarifies, and nothing’s ever been further from the truth.
Strangely, all Blake can comprehend is that she’s looking forward to tomorrow - getting to see Yang in person.
Their outfits are stunning, as is their debut. They have a compelling story: the mayor’s daughter from Twelve and the boy determined to keep her alive. It’s a television show, Sienna says. It’s about the narrative.
Blake finds that flash of blonde hair in the crowd. She thinks she sees seashells winding their way down a braid, and a net is woven to create some sort of dress. Yang clearly hates it, but she says something to the boy from her district, and he laughs.
Laughter isn’t a simple thing to come by in the Hunger Games. She decides, for no reason at all, that she likes Yang.
After the parade of horses, their team is riding on a high; she’s kept herself grounded, though, unwilling to entertain any ideas of survival. She’s walking to the elevator when she swears she catches Yang staring at her, but she blinks and she’s only met with Yang’s profile, her chin dropped and her eyes averted down.
Yang is a mystery in the training room. She spends most of her time at the wildlife stations, learning to tie knots, painting patterns, identifying poisonous plants. She never spars, or uses any of the weapons, really, but she lifts weights, punches a bag around a bit. Blake can tell everyone’s set on edge by her presence, not able to tell the extent of her power, skill, ability. It’s uncommon to hide that sort of thing during training, but her muscles tell their own story. There’s more to her than she’s allowing them to see.
That doesn’t stop Blake from watching her, though. From cataloguing where she spends her time and how it allows her to feel. She’s not as guarded as the rest of them - she seems to like making traps, because she gains this look of concentration as she follows along with the instructor, knotting rope around her fingers. She spends a little bit of time with the boy from her district, and almost against his will, he appears slightly enamored with her. In fact, a lot of them do, though they try to hide it. Blake isn’t the only one who watches her.
She’s so absorbed with the state of affairs that she doesn’t notice who isn’t, but she does notice there’s an energy between her and Adam that wasn’t palpable before, and now it seems to be coating the room.
“Thinking about allies, Blake?” he says over dinner, light enough to pass as a joke but sinister enough to be a threat.
“No,” Blake says, because she’s only thinking about the quickest way to die.
She hopes she can at least see Yang, wherever she is when it happens.
Her knife sinks directly into the red dot, signaling a bulleye on their human-shaped target. She’s not paying attention to the show she’s putting on; all she’s really doing is daydreaming while she idly throws knives. It helps her think. Gives her clarity.
They’re easy to flick. Most people don’t understand the wrist movement, the finesse - they tie it to strength, rather than purpose. That’s why Blake’s so good at it; she’s about precision, not power. That’d always been Adam.
Someone is watching her. Actually, as she comes back into herself, many people are watching her, but only one she cares about: Yang, back at the trap station, staring unfettered.
Blake abruptly puts her knives down. The worst part of the Hunger Games, she’s starting to understand, aren’t the games themselves. That’s going to awaken survival instincts, desperation for life - primal, unhindered urges. No, no, the worst part of the Games is now, these few days before, when they’re taken care of so exquisitely, when shiny, beautiful things are dangled in front of them and cruelly ripped away.
“Why?” she can’t resist asking, kneeling beside Yang. “Why did you do it?”
Yang’s eyes haven’t left her, but her fingers stall around the rope, as if surprised by the question. She examines Blake with a strange intensity, but an openness Blake still isn’t used to from any other tribute. Everyone’s either closed off or showing off, genuinity nowhere to be found. Except perhaps the redhead from Three. Pyrrha. She’s been spending some time teaching a much smaller, younger boy how to throw a spear. He doesn’t stand a chance, but Pyrrha must know that.
“Don’t you have someone?” Yang says, drops her gaze back to the knot. “Someone you’d die for?”
Her parents. Her friends. Adam. “No,” Blake admits honestly. “Nobody.” There are no cameras yet. No one to hurt with the admission. Adam had called her selfish, once; maybe he’d been right.
But Yang laughs, once and under her breath. “Maybe you’re better off that way,” Yang says, not unkindly. Her smile’s sad and quiet; whatever memories rise, they’re memories for her to cherish one last time. That’s how all memories feel these days. “My sister is my life.”
“She’s lucky to have you,” Blake says, captivated by every word out of Yang’s mouth; how real she sounds. There’s no show; she’s not aiming to impress, or grasping at pity. She’s here because of a choice she made, and she’ll live and die with that. Blake wonders what that’s like: to have a choice. “Not many people would do what you did.”
“Well, what about you, Belladonna?” Yang questions, sitting up a little straighter, expression a sliding door that suddenly gives way to teasing. There’s a tone underneath, though - heavy - like a lingering doubt. “The guy who volunteered for you. To protect you, right?”
She’s close - she’s kept her volume low. She’s not stupid. She’s playing this conversation with an angle, but it isn’t for her own benefit.
Blake turns her head, locks onto Adam’s hand clenched around the grip of his sword, lunging strikes at a dummy. She feels the familiar uncurling of fear in her stomach, a dark and massive shape lingering just below. Ominous and foreboding.
“Yeah,” Blake says, and looks away. “He did.”
Picking up on her discomfort isn’t hard, and it isn’t something she’s actively tried to mask; Yang pauses strangely, gaze flickering between them. She infers, “It’s not a good thing, is it.” And trains her focus on Blake again. “It’s not good that he’s here.”
“I don’t know,” Blake admits. “He - I don’t know. Maybe I’m being paranoid.”
“Maybe you aren’t.”
“He wants me to believe it is,” she says finally. “He told me all he wants is to see me safe.”
“And you think he’s lying?” Yang asks, like a story she’s invested in, though Blake isn’t quite sure why.
“I think,” Blake starts, and at last puts into words what exactly has haunted her since the reaping days earlier, “that Adam wants to win, and he thinks he can use me to do that. Use my loyalty to him.”
The knot effortlessly tightens and unravels between Yang’s fingers. It seems to be an unconscious habit, and one she’s better at than her hours at the station might’ve led them to believe. “Hm,” she says, poking her tongue against the inside of her cheek. “You’re good with those knives, that’s for sure. It makes sense that he’d rather have you as an ally than an enemy - help him take out all the threats, and take you out himself.”
“Perceptive,” Blake says, impressed despite her dawning horror; she’d been so good at pushing it down, at talking herself out of circles, at trusting him despite the signs. In one conversation, Yang’s forced her to undo all that. She echoes Yang’s earlier words to her. Maybe it’s for the best.
“I’m not sure I’d go that far,” Yang says, and subtly jerks her head in his direction. “With how purposefully he’s showing off his swordplay, I’m amazed he even remembers you exist.” She rolls her eyes. “Men.”
And Blake laughs. Like Yang’s district partner at the parade. It’s accidental, and nearly shocking in its sincerity, but she laughs anyway. She doesn’t have a choice. “Men,” she agrees, and Yang laughs too.
That’s the first time Blake thinks about living.
The first time Yang thinks about dying - dying willingly - is their final day in the training center.
Blake Belladonna, beautiful and clever and entirely obvious to everyone but herself, locates her at the camouflage station, attempting to blend her hand into a sandy coastline. She stares quizzically down at the pattern, eyebrows knitting together, and Yang makes the connection with a laugh. “You’ve never seen the ocean.”
“No.” Blake shakes her head. “What’s it like?”
“Well, I’m no artist,” Yang says, wiggling her fingers, “but kinda like this. Blue, green, boundless - sometimes I think about just diving in the water and swimming as far as I can. Swimming away.” She adds, “Salty.”
And then Blake reaches for a paintbrush, deliberately dragging her fingers along the back of Yang’s hand, leaving streaks of blue paint. She pauses; Yang keeps breathing, but it’s a struggle. She says, “Hey.”
“Hey,” Yang says.
“Don’t die.” She takes the brush, and swirls it into the yellow paint. “Don’t give up.”
“Why do you care what happens to me?” Yang asks, almost unnerved at the sentiment, fighting against the way it makes her want to cry. Her skin feels raw where Blake had touched her, and the marks remain.
“Because,” Blake says softly, “I think you deserve better than this.”
“I think we all do,” Yang counters, flaring up - it’s not just me, she wants to say. You deserve better. You. There are so few beautiful things left. You.
“But the rest of us aren’t here because there’s someone we care enough about to protect.” Blake lets it hang between them. “You’re a good person, Yang. Anyone can tell that much.”
Yang’d never understood the Capitol and its fascination with tattoos as a statement. Now she stares at the blue streaks across the back of her hand, and wonders about wearing it forever.
She’d die, she thinks. She’d die for Blake, too.
She spars for the first and last time after that, and one of her blows sends the trainer flying off the practice area and into the concrete, knocking him unconscious.
But she sweats the paint off, and finds without it, it’s a little easier to breathe.
Their scores aren’t surprising. Adam pulls a nine. Blake gets a ten - Adam pretends to be happy for her, but she sees that facade cracking instantly.
Yang gets an eleven.
“Her?” Adam spits out, clearly infuriated. He’s already seeing red.
“She’s a genius,” Sienna says at the revelation, shocking Adam into silence. “You’re good with a weapon, Adam, and anyone will give you that. But unarmed? You’re nothing.” She jerks her head towards the blonde girl on-screen. “You can’t disarm her. She’ll kill you with her bare hands.”
“Her?” Adam snarls. “If she gets within my line of sight, she’s–”
“You think she doesn’t know how to dodge a sword?” she asks, and Adam bristles once again with no response. “Do you truly believe a girl whose primary skill is hand-to-hand combat doesn’t know how to evade an attack? You’re a fool if you cast her aside as a threat, Adam. She’s the most dangerous one here.”
Blake stares blankly at her picture, wondering if it’s intelligence, if it’s determination, passion, will. Wonders if Yang’s trained for this, if she’s excited, if she’s terrified. Wonders if it’s all just luck, a mixed bag of rot and gold.
But Blake recalls the tapes of the reapings, across every district, and she remembers none of them as clearly as she remembers Yang’s - not even her own. Yang’s; a reaping that wasn’t supposed to be hers at all.
Ruby! Ruby! No!
Armed guards in white holding her back, or trying to, but being no match for her strength.
I volunteer! She hears Yang’s scream in her mind, even now, days later, sees her pushing her way to the platform. I volunteer as tribute!
Or, Blake thinks, maybe it’s just what she’s always done to survive.
Blake’s tactic, they’d decided, is mysterious and alluring: she’s to answer her interview in short, vague answers, and smile as though she’s hiding something. It’s not hard. She’s hiding so much from herself already that it barely even feels like a tactic.
Yang goes for sexy and powerful, and she doesn’t even have to try. People in the audience are literally fanning themselves as she’s interviewed. She looks stunning in her dress, her heels, red-lipped and eyes that seem to match underneath the stage lights.
“I just want my sister to know I love her,” she says at the end, a calculated vulnerability that makes every citizen watching want her even more, moaning about how strong and brave she is, protecting her younger sister like that.
“She makes me sick,” Adam says, face warped with hatred, and suddenly, it isn’t her own safety she’s worried for.
It’s a diversion. Confuse Adam, make him scramble for a new plan, make him rethink his strategy. Because Yang had been right, and Blake’s instincts had been, too: he wants to win. And when you want to win, everyone else is a target.
So during her interview, she confesses, “I know I can win. But I’ve met someone here who I’d really like to keep alive, even more than that.”
The interviewer goes insane. “Another tribute?” he says. “You’ve met someone here?”
Blake shrugs, pretending to be coy. “That’s all I’ll say on the matter.”
He groans, begs her for details, and she says next to nothing, but the audience eats it up - she sees the camera focus on her as the show closes, hoping to catch her eyes flickering to another tribute. She stares straight ahead, speaking to no one until they’re backstage.
“Adam, not now,” Sienna says immediately, pointing him to the elevator. “Go upstairs. We’ll meet you there.” He grits his teeth, but does as he’s told. Sienna turns on her. “What the hell was that?”
“I’m not an idiot,” Blake says lowly, “and neither are you. We both know what Adam’s plan is. Or was.”
It’s a statement that forces Sienna into a corner, and she relents after a few seconds of the two of them staring each other down. “You’ll be his first target now, not his last,” she says. “You know that, right?”
“It doesn’t matter the order,” Blake says, brushing by her to the elevator. “I’ve been number one on his list for a long, long time. But I’m not playing the Games on his terms anymore.”
“Well, you’ve given them a hell of a narrative,” Sienna says, following her, reluctantly impressed. “The whole Capitol’s dying to know who your lucky love interest could be, since it’s not him.”
Yang shoves her arm through the elevator door just as it’s about to close. “Mind if I catch a ride?” she asks, stepping inside, her heels held in her hand.
So, maybe Blake should’ve thought through her plan, because at the moment, Yang’s a foot away from her and absolutely the most beautiful girl Blake’s ever seen in her life, and her story for the cameras turns out to be more true than she’d meant it to be.
“Oh, it’s you,” Sienna says, throwing up her hands. Apparently Blake’s staring is noticeable. “Of course it is. Blake, you’re on your own.”
“No, she’s not,” Yang murmurs, and brushes her fingers against Blake’s, hanging between them. “She’s got me.”
There’s a vibrancy to her when she disembarks, an urgency to her mouth. Find me, she says, leaning close, grasping Blake’s hand. Find me in the arena. Or I’ll find you. Okay?
“Why?” Blake asks again, unable to comprehend anything Yang does or says, unable to reconcile the motivation behind it.
“Because I want you alive,” she says, and lets go. “I want you to live.”
You’re insane, Blake wants to say. None of us will live except one. And out of all of us, it should be you.
But the next morning, standing on the platform, she finds Yang three spaces down from her, and their eyes meet as if by gravitational pull.
Find me, Yang mouths, and the cannons blast.
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lucywritesreid · 4 years
Text
I know what you are
Notes: I’ve been re-reading twilight and watching criminal minds (it’s almost like I’m trying to relive my youth!) and the scene where Spencer doesn’t know what ‘cullen’ is just kills me every time.
 Summary: Y/N is excited about the release of Midnight Sun. Spencer still doesn’t know what all this hype is about. But he’s about to get involved.
 Word count: 1.5k
 “Y/N, oh my gosh! C’mere!” Penelope shouted in glee, pushing herself away from her computer desk and waving her arms around her face. “You need to see this!” You ran across the room towards her and leaned over her shoulder to read what was on the screen.
Midnight Sun, the new release from Stephanie Meyer.
“Holy shit!” you laughed and squeezed Penelope’s shoulder at the same time. “I didn’t know this was actually coming out!”
“I don’t believe it either y/n but I know I’m gonna need a marathon watching session beforehand!” You both giggled and carried on reading all the details on the screen. Sure, you were both grown women, but you’d be damned if that meant you weren’t excited about the hot vampires and werewolves. “Okay,” Penelope looked up at you, a serious expression across her face. “On the count of three we both need to say which team we are on. 1, 2, 3…”
“TEAM EDWARD!” 
The happy news of the book release followed you for the rest of the day. Penelope couldn’t help herself making twilight puns whenever she spoke to you. You’d managed to get JJ on board with your excitement, although you were slightly disappointed when she declared her support for Team Jacob.
“Listen guys… I just like looking at them with their shirts off. The vampires, not so much,” she’d shrugged, and you’d happily accepted her explanation. Emily was slightly more reluctant about getting involved, but couldn’t resist looking at all the pictures of ‘topless werewolves’ that you googled during your lunch break. You were still discussing the saga towards the end of the day just as Spencer had walked over to ask if you were ready to go home yet.
“Reid! You haven’t seen the twilight films have you?” Emily asked with a smirk, fully knowing what the answer would be.
“I-I haven’t, no,” he stuttered with a furrowed brow, also guessing where this conversation was headed. “I’m just not really into the whole thing.”
Your jaw almost hit the floor when you looked up at him. How had he not seen them? More importantly, how had you lived together for nearly a whole year and didn’t know he’d never seen one of your favourite film series?
“Well sweet boy you’re gonna have to catch up because there’s a new book coming out and your darling y/n is going to become mega obsessed all over again,” Penelope responded on your behalf. You were slightly smug that someone else was pointing out he should watch them.
He could hardly say no in a room full of witnesses. “Sure thing, Garcia,” he laughed and reached out for your hand.
 Two days later, and you’d had the most exhausting day. You’d agreed to start Thai boxing with Emily after work, and although you enjoyed spending time together, there was very little energy left for your evenings. You stepped in the front door and set your gym bag on the floor. It was oddly dark and you reached out for the hall light. That was strange. You knew Spencer was home, he’d left before you went boxing. “Spence, babe? Are you here?” You called out and edged into the front room.
You could hardly believe what was in front of your eyes. Spencer had moved all your furniture to the side of the room and out on the floor lay a large pile of throw pillows and blankets. Every shelf and surface was littered with lit candles, vanilla and cinnamon swirling around the room. You noticed a plate of red velvet cupcakes and two full glasses of red wine on the edge of the blanket. It looked so inviting. And to make the scene even more perfect, Spencer was stood in his black silk pyjamas in the middle of the room, a proud smile on his face.
“Honey, what is this?” you asked, a mixture of confusion and excitement in your voice.
“Well, after you were talking about your new book coming out the other day, I realised that I have neglected that part of your personality. This is one of your hobbies and I want to experience it with you. So, we’re going to watch the twilight films. This is gonna be our set up every night for the rest of the week. I’ve left your pyjamas on the edge of the bed. The matching ones of course.”
You raced across the room towards him, careful not to stand on any of his decorations. “You are going to love this, I promise!” You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him in for a kiss, before he pulled away a minute later.
“Go get changed bloodsucker,” he laughed.
….
Twenty minutes later and you both sat cross-legged on the blanket, fully indulged in the film. Spencer’s scepticism was noticeable from the beginning but you knew he was trying his hardest to enjoy himself. To make the experience more enjoyable, you had refrained from sharing trivia about the cast. Instead, you were profiling each of the character’s as you first met them.
The most enjoyable was when the Cullen family first arrived in the cafeteria. “Okay, here we go!” Spencer sat up and cracked his knuckles. “Well, he’s clearly got some kind of hidden trauma. He’s the most uncomfortable one there,” he pointed to a figure on the screen.
“Yeah honey that’s Jasper, you won’t believe the poor things that guys experienced…”
“And her! The one with him. She reminds me of you,” he turned away from the screen and gave you a smile.
“Alice? How come?” your cheeks were reddening. But you were not about to reveal that you’d desperately wanted to be Alice when you first read the books all those years ago.
Spencer shrugged. “She looks happy. Kind. Caring. And next to the rest of them who all look so miserable, she stands out. Just like you.”
The rest of the film was filmed with commentary about the character’s odd movements and behaviours. Spencer declared his favourite part was when Edward covered his mouth when Bella came into the classroom. He couldn’t stop laughing, and you couldn’t help but join him. “There are serial killers who don’t look that intensely at their victims!” he roared.
“I suppose he kinda wants her to be a victim, Spence. He wants to drink her blood.”
“Even so, you think a guy that’s been supposedly a vampire for such a considerable amount of time would be a little more subtle about it.”
You smirked. You couldn’t help but put yourself in that situation. Imagining discovering Spencer was a vampire, a beautiful immortal. How it would feel if his teeth bit down into the softness of your warm skin…
By the end of the first film, you were recreating the end scene. As soon as Spencer saw them going off to prom, he’d stood up from the blanket bed and asked for your hand. “Let’s join them,” and you were quick to follow. You danced around the living room, arms around his neck and his chest firmly pressed against you. You didn’t have to look up at the screen to know that your dancing was far better than the one on the screen. More passionate, more loving.
“I’ve really enjoyed this, y’know…” he whispered softly, inches away from your mouth. “Same again tomorrow?”
You nodded and melted away into his arms as he leaned down to kiss you.
 …
The next day, you were relieved to come home to the same setup as the day before. This time, you had red wine again, but it was accompanied by popcorn. The smell of your favourite candles lingered from the day before. You settled down into your pillow bed, this time choosing to sit practically on Spencer’s lap, your head nuzzled up into his neck. “This one makes me sad,” you sighed softly just after Edward left Bella in the forest. “I couldn’t imagine you doing this to me…”
He reached out and gently caressed your hair with his fingertips, “Never gonna happen,” he kissed your hair, “besides, they’re going to have a lovely reunion in Italy towards the end. Maybe we should go on vacation to Italy in the summer…”
You gasped. Escaping from his embrace you picked up the nearest cushion and gripped it between your fingers. “Spencer! How do you know that?! Did you watch this without me?” You pouted, teasing him by raising an eyebrow.
He looked down sheepishly and said quietly, “I may have read all the books when you went to sleep last night, y/n.”
You tapped him on the shoulder with the cushion. “No fair! I can’t see your genuine reactions now when you know what happens!” It was hard to fake being annoyed at someone so heartbreakingly adorable. “What will I do now…”
“We,” he interjected, “will finish these films and you can enjoy my now well-informed commentary.” He smirked. “And then we’ll get round to booking that holiday.”
You set down the pillow and went back to your previous position with your head on his shoulder. “Okay, fine. But you have to promise we can have a little vampire roleplay when we go to bed later.”
“Definitely,” Spencer agreed, “you look good enough to eat!” He said in a terrible Count Dracula-like accent.
“That’s not even how they talk in this…” you giggled.
“Well maybe it should be.”
181 notes · View notes
twstarchives · 4 years
Text
Silver・Voice Lines
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Additional voice lines:
NRC Master Chef event card
School Uniform - R
Unlock Card “What’s your next class?”
Groovy “I want to learn what a servant should be like.”
Home Setting “Oh, it’s you.”
Home Transitions “Are you done getting ready for class? Being ready is oftentimes more important than jumping right in.”
“The weather on days like this makes me wanna sleep...”
“I don’t really pay attention to my clothes. You think I look good in this? Oh, really?”
Home Transition (Login Greeting) “I’m leaving if you don’t need anything. ...Why’re you looking at me like that?”
Home Taps “I’m going to study my hardest, as to not embarrass Lord Malleus.”
“It’s good to exert yourself. Hard work always pays off; it’s easy to do, and the outcome is obvious since it relies on you.” ¹
“I’m fine with any kind of clothes, as long as it’s not rude to wear them.”
“Have you gotten used to this school yet? ...Oh. Well, there’s no need to rush.”
“Mm, thanks for waking me up.”
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PE Uniform - R
Unlock Card “Physical training is the groundwork for everything. Wanna train together?”
Groovy “My greatest enemy really is myself.”
Home Setting “I’m looking forward to seeing how far I can go.”
Home Transitions “Whether or not I act on my own doesn’t have anything to do with anyone else. You shouldn’t get too caught up about your surroundings either.”
“I think you might have some potential with using a sword. I’d like to see you take a serious try at it sometime.”
“Are you interested in horse riding? Come take a look at the Horse Riding Club sometime. It’d make Riddle happy too.”
Home Transition (Login Greeting) “What are you going to go do right now? If you don’t have any plans, it’d be great if you could come work out with me.”
Home Taps “Whenever I’m practicing, Sebek always comes over to try challenging me. It’s part of our normal.”
“Training your body in turn trains your mind. You should take it seriously.”
“I go through all of this training so that I can protect Lord Malleus and the others.”
“It’s faster to take a hands-on approach than just learning about something.”
“You don’t need to hit me so hard; I’m already up.”
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Lab Coat - SR
Unlock Card “Relax. Your results will suffer if you’re so tense.”
Groovy “I have no choice but to train to overcome my weaknesses.”
Home Setting “You want to study together? You really work hard.”
Home Transitions “You can’t protect the ones you love with power alone. Situations will always come up that require knowledge and wit.”
“Have you been to the greenhouse yet? Be careful in there. It’s warm and puts you to sleep if you don’t watch out.”
“‘Tips for doing labs’? Follow what’s written in the textbook. That’s it.”
Home Transition (Login Greeting) “I’ve been trying to incorporate prep and review for my classes into my routine, but... I accidentally fell asleep last night. I’ll do it now.”
Home Transition (Groovy) “The one thing that stays the same between magic and your studies is the need to work your hardest.”
Home Taps “Kalim from my class often fails all his experiments, but he never loses his motivation. That’s an important quality to have.”
“Aren’t you in the same grade as Sebek? What do you think about him? Isn’t his voice the most annoying you’ve ever heard?”
“Fath—Lilia has a ‘creative’ way of cooking. First he finds a recipe, and then he cooks without ever looking at it.”
“Everyone has a certain amount of hours they need to sleep each night, but exactly how many hours short am I...?”
“Rush like that all you want, but you’re not going to finish all of your learning in just one day.”
Home Tap (Groovy) “I cook sometimes. I’m not that good at it, but at least I can sort of imagine how I want it to taste when I make things myself.”
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Ceremony Robes - SR
Unlock Card “Zz... Ah! Were you calling for me?”
Groovy “The little birds are singing so joyously. I think it’ll be a nice day today.”
Home Setting “I tried fixing up my appearance so I didn’t look like I put in zero effort.”
Home Transitions “I’m really not used to seeing myself look so dressed-up.”
“When I first enrolled here, I was nervous too... Oh, looking back, I guess I wasn’t.”
“I’m still barely a rookie compared to Lilia. Someday I want to make it to his level.”
Home Transition (Login Greeting) “Night Raven College has so much history behind it. I’m so grateful I’m able to attend this school.”
Home Transition (Groovy) “Mm... Zzz... Ah! S-Sorry. I got too comfortable and fell asleep.”
Home Taps “It’s a little hard to move in these, but I won’t let something like this stop me from getting in my daily training.”
“They say that silence is golden. But in my case I just don’t have anything worth talking about...”
“I got tired and accidentally rubbed my eye. Did my makeup get smudged?”
“Academies are for nothing but learning. I’m glad I have the opportunity to develop myself. Yes.”
“I don’t know much about clothes, but... these robes would be considered unusual, right?”
Home Tap (Groovy) “Someday I want to appear at a Night Raven College ceremony next to Lord Malleus.”
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Tutorial “Let’s go.”
Lv Up “I’m glad I’ve expanded my capabilities.”
“Alright, I’m feeling confident.”
“The only way is to keep on training.”
Lv Up Max “With every swing of my sword, I can feel the power rising in my hands. It makes me feel like I’m dreaming.”
Episode Lv Up “It’s not really any fun being with me. And yet you’re always next to me... You’re so weird.”
Magic Lv Up “My magic is hardly anything compared to Lord Malleus, but I’m going to hone my skill as much as I can, at least.”
Limit Break “If I get stronger, I’ll be able to protect Lord Malleus even more. That’s why you can never have enough power.”
Groovy “I’m happy. ‘I don’t look like it’? Understood. Next time I’ll try harder.”
Select Lesson “Any one of your classes is going to be worthwhile.”
“You’re going with that one? I think that’s a good choice.”
“Go ahead and pick anything.”
Lesson Start “I need to be careful not to fall asleep.”
Lesson End “It’s over? Time to move on to our next training.”
Battle Start “If you’re prepared, then draw your weapon.”
Battle Win “Thank you. I’ve gotten a little stronger now.”
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Other
Profile Quote “Malleus, my lord, enough dawdling.”
January 2020 Trailer “It’s strange... I feel like I’ve met you somewhere before.”
Countdown Poster “No matter what enemies come for him, I will protect Lord Malleus.”
Login Bonus “You’re training again today? You can never be too prepared.”
Player Birthday Wish “Sorry. I remembered it was your birthday, but I couldn’t get everything ready in time. …No. An excuse isn’t good enough. Instead of a present, I’ll come with you to do anything you’d like.”
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Magic History
Good ★
“We’re at school, so let’s learn.”
“It’s just memorizing.”
“Strategies? I want to learn them.”
“It’s not good to just be sitting down.”
“Studying is training too.”
“Lilia is good at history.”
“A sleeping curse, huh?”
“I have horse-riding training after school.”
“Even lost kingdoms... still have history.”
Great ★★
“That was so easy.”
“I won against my drowsiness.”
“I’ll get by without Father scolding me.”
Perfect ★★★
“It’s just as I was taught.”
“Someday Lord Malleus will be in these textbooks.”
“Father taught me this.”
Special Lesson Perfect ★★★
“Just do it like I always do.”
“Psyche yourself up.”
“Don’t lose your momentum.”
Flying
Good ★
“I’m on the right track.”
“Straighten you back.”
“I’m good at moving around.”
“Zz... Ah!”
“It’s just like riding a horse.”
“Did you warm up?”
“I bit my tongue.”
“I almost fell asleep in the air...”
“Always stay calm.”
Great ★★
“I have a lot of endurance.”
“No problems with this.”
“So this is it.”
Perfect ★★★
“I want to fly faster.”
“Lilia wouldn’t need a broom.”
“Horses are harder to get along with.”
Special Lesson Perfect ★★★
“I want to watch the Headmaster give an example.”
“He’s watching me.”
“I don’t really mind.”
Alchemy
Good ★
“Focus.”
“Careful.”
“The recipe... is...”
“That egg smells rotten.”
“No issues.”
“Wish I could solve this with a sword.”
“The chemicals sparked...!”
“I have no interest in gold.”
“There’s no easy way out.”
“You need to listen to the teacher.”
“I’m going to rest a little.”
“Eternal life...”
“Let’s keep at it.”
“I’m used to making concoctions.”
“This also trains your ability to focus.”
Great ★★
“It worked.”
“Father taught me this.”
“I can do it even if I’m half-awake.”
“Could be... worse...”
“Follow the textbook.”
Perfect ★★★
“I made jewels. Want one?”
“It’s just like cooking.”
“You can do it if you try. Don’t think about it.”
“I want to show this to Lilia.”
“Let’s try the next one.”
Special Lesson Perfect ★★★
“I feel calm when the Headmaster’s here.”
“Do it just like always... Stay calm.”
“Getting careless will make you mess up.”
“I’m not going to bring shame to Lord Malleus.”
228 notes · View notes
wholesomemendes · 4 years
Note
ok here me out, shawn and the reader fic but based on the scene from Hercules where they’re in the garden and they fall in love with each other
Author’s Note: I might have strayed a little bit away from the Hercules scene, but the main concept of them falling in love in the garden is still there. I love Hercules so this was extremely fun for me to write and I hope you like it as well! As always, please feel free to leave feedback and tell me what you think!
Warnings: I think there’s one swear word maybe, I’m not sure. There’s really no warnings
There was a calming feeling surrounding the private garden, the moon illuminating the night with its bright light. You could hear the sound of crickets chirping in the distance and the occasional fish that swam its way up to the surface of the small pond. The air smelled crisp and you took a deep breath, allowing yourself to close your eyes while you sat on the old metal bench.
“Fancy seeing you around here.” You jumped slightly at the sound of his voice, eyes opening to be met with him looking as dashing as ever. A white tunic adorned his body that displayed a fair amount of his beautiful chest and his dark green riding pants hugged his legs in all of the right places, making it hard to look away from him. Once you somehow managed to tear your eyes away from his breathtaking body you were met with his honey brown eyes piercing into you, a cocky smirk playing on his lips.
“That’s strange, I vaguely remember you inviting me here with you tonight, your majesty.” The corner of your lips created a small smirk of your own and you watched as he fought back a smile, lightly bumping your hip with his own so he could sit next to you.
“Did I now?” Shawn turned to face you, maneuvering his body so that he could comfortably cross his legs with his arms resting along the back of the bench. One of his fingers began toying with a loose strand of your hair, eyes focused on how he was wrapping it around himself, “You have the most beautiful hair.”
You tried to will the blush off your cheeks to no avail, secretly hoping that the darkness of the night would cover it up. “Thank you, I must say yours isn’t half bad either,” you remarked, a hand coming up to lightly tug at the long curl that always seemed to fall in front of his face, watching as it bounced back when you released it from your grasp.
“Not half bad? Please, I know you’re in love with my hair.”
You feigned shock, playfully rolling your eyes when the smirk returned to his face, “In love with your hair? I don’t think so. Just because every girl in the kingdom is swooning over you doesn’t mean I am.”
“Yeah, sure. Says the person that was ogling at my body when I arrived.” He let out one of his sincere laughs when you dropped your head to hide from his gaze, mumbling out a “Wasn’t ogling” that was barely heard by him. “‘S ok, I like when you stroke my ego. You can do it whenever you want.”
“Shut up,” you whined, turning your head away from him with a pout on your face, arms coming up to cross on your chest defensively. “Oh, come on. Look at me. Touch my hair, ‘s only fair when my hand is fully in yours.” You didn’t even realize that his fingers were no longer twirling a single strand, but rather completely encased by your hair while he rubbed gentle circles on the back of your head. It was normal.The small touches, the gentle teasing, the light hearted flirting, it was all something that you would find the two of you doing if you happened to see him visiting you in your parents’ bakery or sitting with you while you read your newest book inside of the library. It wasn’t everyday that the prince came into town, so even though you hated all of the jealous stares from the Prince Shawn fanclub, you let it slide when he brought in extra business to the bakery.
He lightly grabbed your wrist, causing you to look him in the eyes as he brought your hand to his hair. You ran your fingers through his thick curls, not missing when his eyes fluttered at the feeling. “Is this why you invited me here?” you asked, watching as he furrowed his brows in confusion at your question, “The petting?”
“Not exactly,” he laughed, “Just wanted to see you again...but I don’t mind the petting, if that’s what you want to call it.” Your fingers had been through his hair a handful of times, it was hard to resist when it looked so soft while he was laying next to you as you read your book under the big oak tree. A comfortable silence fell between the two of you and you tried your hardest to keep your gaze on his hair, which proved to be a challenge when his eyes were busy studying every single piece of your face. His hand made its way out of your hair to brush a stray piece out of your face before he stood up, extending a hand for you to take. Yours fit perfectly into his much larger one somehow, even if his completely engulfed yours. His hands were rough from all of his training and horse riding, but it only made it feel better when it was intertwined with yours.
The two of you walked down the winding path of the garden, a path you both knew by heart by now. Shawn had brought you here for the first time a few months ago, but you had made your way to the garden by yourself more times than he knew. He had told you that it was his safe place to get away and just think about life and you could see why. Something about the tranquility made your thoughts run wild and more often than not you found yourself sitting by the old, broken fountain replaying the moments you had with Shawn and trying to diminish your feelings towards him.
He swung your hands back and forth as you walked, fingers mindlessly rubbing on the back of your palm. “What’s on your mind?” he asked, pulling you out of your thoughts.
“What do you mean?”
“I can practically see the gears turning in your head, love. What are you thinking about?”
You hated how your heart fluttered at the nickname, but deep down inside you wanted him to say it again. “‘S nothing. My thoughts are just wandering.” He let out a noise of approval at your words as you continued down the path towards the old fountain and you wondered if you should ask him the question that had been on your mind for the past two weeks, “How did things go with Princess Natalia?”
If the confusion on his face wasn’t answer enough, his first question was, “Who?”
“You know, the princess that was visiting you for the past two weeks? The one that literally just left today?”
“Oh right, her name was Natalia,” he laughed nervously, his free hand coming to scratch the back of his neck, “Yeah, um, she was horrible. I’m so glad she’s gone.”
You couldn’t help the relieved feeling that took place in your chest at his disinterest in her. The princess had been visiting from the kingdom over in hopes of arranging an engagement between her and Shawn that would create an alliance between the two kingdoms. “She is very beautiful, though.”
“I guess, but her personality is absolute shit.”
“Don’t think that’s the way a prince should talk about a princess.”
“Well it should be because I don’t know how else to describe her.” He sighed as the two of you approached the fountain, taking a seat on the stone exterior, “I’m so sick of all of this engagement stuff. I don’t know when my father will understand that I don’t want to marry some empty-headed blonde with a kingdom that needs our help.”
“He just wants what’s best for you and the kingdom,” you reasoned with him, although you were fully on his side, “It’s what happened to him when he was your age and I’m not saying it’s right, but you’re going to be crowned king in a few years and I think he just wants you to have a queen by your side.”
“Yeah, well if we’re talking about making someone a queen it needs to be someone that I trust to rule by my side, not someone who makes me want to tear my hair out every three seconds.” You giggled lightly at his response, taking your time to admire his side profile as he sat beside you. “Besides,” he began, threading his fingers through yours once again since they had released when the two of you had sat down, “I want to marry out of love. The world is changing and I think it’s pointless to have these precedents that are only put in place to make me absolutely miserable.”
“You’re overreacting.”
“Am I? Wouldn’t you feel the same if someone was taking away your chance at true love?” His gaze fell back to you, turning his body so that his eyes bore into yours. You were momentarily lost in his eyes as your heart beat at a rapid pace. “Don’t you want that?”
“What?”
“A chance at true love?”
“Of course, what girl doesn’t want that. But I don’t think I’ll get it, no one is exactly lining up to marry their sons off to a poor baker’s daughter.”
“Hey, don’t say that,” he whispered as he used a finger to gently push your chin back to look at him, “How much money you have doesn’t have anything to do with your worth. Also, I love your parents bakery, I think they make the best pastries I’ve ever had.”
A soft smile appeared on your face and you looked up at him through your lashes, “You’re just saying that.”
“I’m not, I’ve never lied to you.”
“I find that hard to believe.”
“Swear on my life I haven’t, I always tell you the truth.” His eyes flickered across your face that was illuminated by the moon, only making you look even more angelic to him, “God, you’re so beautiful.”
“Stop,” you whined, turning your face away from him sheepishly.
“Hey, hey, you need to stop hiding that pretty face of yours.” Shawn grabbed your chin in between his pointer and thumb, not bothering to let go once you were facing him, “I think I know why no one’s asked to marry you yet.”
“Oh do you now? Please enlighten me oh wise one.”
“Shut up, I’m trying to be sentimental,” he laughed as his hand came up to rest on your jaw, “But I’m one hundred percent sure of my reasoning. You’re too good for them. Those boys in town don’t deserve you at all.”
“Wow, that really opens up my options then. What am I supposed to do? Live alone my whole life tending to the chickens?”
“No,” he whispered, his face inching ever so slightly closer to yours, “You’re supposed to live in a palace for the rest of your life with a crown on your head.”
“What do you mean-” you were cut off by his lips landing gently on yours. While your mind didn’t seem to know how to react, your body did for your lips began to slowly move in unison with his. It was short and innocent, but it was enough to leave your mind reeling when he pulled back, resting his forehead on yours.
“Tell me you don’t feel it too and I won’t ever bring this up again. Just tell me that I’m crazy and you don’t feel the way I do when we’re together,” he breathed out, his free hand that wasn’t on your face grabbing yours to bring it to his beating heart.
“Of course I do, I’ve always felt it.”
“So have I, it’s why I always sent those princesses away. I felt like I had a chance at true love right under my nose.”
“But I’m not a princess, Shawn. What would everyone say if they found out you were with someone that’s not of royalty.”
“Then I guess I’ll just have to make you my princess,” and with that he reconnected his lips to yours, already envisioning how breathtaking you’d look with his crown on your head.
253 notes · View notes
yelena-bellova · 4 years
Note
Congrats on 900 followers <3 , 7 and 16 for the prompts for daisy/sousa thank youuuu
Whatever Comes After Forever
Plot: A look into Daisy and Daniel’s life after the finale
Word Count: 2.1k
Warnings: None!
A/N: I got carried away with the domestic Dousy, whoops lol
————
7: “You really were my first and last.”
16: “Will you love me like this forever?”
————
The Astro Ambassadors were currently as far from Earth as they could be.
It was important that they establish good relations with other planets, that was kind of the whole point of their mission. They’d finished up a meeting with the leader of the world they were on, Daisy couldn’t pronounce the name, and he’d told them to go enjoy themselves. Kora had taken some of the rest of their team and headed into town, Daisy was trying her hardest not to worry about her sister. It was a strange adjustment, but with each day they were building a stronger relationship.
“She’s fine, Daisy.”

She turned and looked down to Daniel, eyes closed and relaxed on the blanket they’d brought to the hill. His hand was absentmindedly stroking her back as she sat, where they’d positioned themselves provided a perfect view of the city below. But the view next to her was far more attractive.
“Do we have some psychic-link I’m not aware of or something?” she asked as she laid down next to him, his arm wrapping around her shoulders and drawing her in closer.
“No,” Daniel replied, “I just know you.”

Daisy smiled, admiring the sunset glow that lit up his side profile. After all they’d been through, after a year together, she was still just as crazy about him as she’d been when they began dating. He’d adjusted so quickly to space, he was still in awe of the fact that they were actually there. She’d sneak a glance at him sometimes when they were in the cockpit, his eyes wide and his jaw slackened as he stared out into the cosmos. It was adorable.
Daniel turned his head and opened one eye to her, “You know, it’s rude to stare.”

“Can’t help it,” she smirked.
He smiled softly and wrapped his free arm around her waist, pulling her flush against him. She snuggled into him, her face resting in the crook of his neck and her hand pressed to his firm chest. Daisy had died and gone to Heaven, she was sure of it. There was no way that she could possibly be this lucky.
“I love you,” Daisy said with a kiss to his cheek.
“I love you too,” Daniel replied, squeezing her tightly and pressing a lingering kiss to her forehead.
“Will you love me like this forever?” she asked after a few moments of silence.
“I’ll love you forever and in whatever comes after forever,” he whispered.
Yep, she’d definitely died and gone to Heaven.
————
After they’d returned from their long mission in space, they both decided to take a long break. Kora continued training at SHIELD and under Daisy’s watchful eye, she was flourishing.
Daniel and Daisy decided to take the next step in their relationship and get an apartment together. They’d technically been living together on Zephyr 3 for months, but this felt much more official. They found a place close enough to SHIELD for work but far enough away that they could begin building a life of their own. They’d painted the walls, adorned them with pictures of their adventures in space, and assembled all their furniture. They were flat on their back exhausted.
“I don’t think I can move,” Daisy groaned, she was laid out on their loveseat, her clothes stained with dried blue paint.
Daniel chuckled from their L shaped couch, “The mighty Quake defeated by some bookshelves.”

Daisy craned her neck to glare at him and pointed a finger, “It should be illegal to have that many different types of screws for one piece of furniture.”

Daniel laughed again before slipping back into humming a song on the radio. It was one of the few expensive purchases he’d made, he’d sprung for one that looked like one he’d had in the fifties. It also had a port to plug in your phone which, surprisingly, he used frequently. The Spotify playlist he’d made of all his old favorites was still playing from the kitchen table. Daisy heard him get up but didn’t open her eyes until she sensed him standing over her,
“Dance with me.”

She looked up at him, the sight of his warm eyes and outstretched hand too perfect to turn down. She took his palm and let him pull her to her feet before moving his hands to her waist. Locking hers around his neck, they began to sway slowly to Frank Sinatra’s voice. Daisy tucked her head under Daniel’s chin and relaxed into his body. This was another moment that she felt was too good to be true. Dancing in the apartment she shared with the love of her life with no threats, no danger…Just them.
“Will you love me like this forever?” she asked, looking up to lock eyes with him.
Daniel sighed, admiring his girlfriend in all her glory with her messy bun and paint streaked face. He brought a hand up to cup her cheek, “I’ll love you forever and in whatever comes after forever.”
He leaned down to slide his lips over hers softly, they kept swaying in each other’s arms long after the music had stopped.
—————
“You look gorgeous!”

“Daisy, that dress! Daniel’s going to be all over you as soon as he sees you!”
Daisy giggled at her friends as she took a look at herself in the full length mirror. Even she had to admit, she looked stunning in her sweetheart neckline, strapless, lacy wedding dress.
“Auntie Daisy looks like a princess!” Alya exclaimed, tugging at her mother’s arm.
“Doesn’t she?” Jemma replied, spinning her daughter with one hand while her other rested on her very visible bump.
A knock at the door prompted the women to turn to their attention, May came through.
“It’s about that time,” she announced, “You ready?”

Daisy took a deep breath, “Definitely.”
Yo-Yo, Kira, Jemma and little Alya filed out of the room one by one, all wishing Daisy good luck before taking their places. Daisy waited anxiously for her cue to come, she wasn’t having second thoughts about Daniel, not at all. But just as she’d felt when they got their apartment, it all seemed to good to be true.
Another knock, this time she knew exactly who it was.
“Come in!”
The door opened and revealed Coulson, clothed in a much dressier suit than usual. As soon as he laid eyes on Daisy, tears sprung to his eyes at the sight of her.

“Wow…” he whispered, his voice compromised with emotion.

She rushed across the small dressing room into his arms, needing reassurance that everything was going to be okay.

“Coulson, I’m scared.”

“Why?” he asked, “What’s wrong?”

Daisy shook her head, pressed into his shoulder, “I just feel like I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop. Nothing in my life has ever gone as well as Daniel and I have but what if we go through with this and-and something happens and it ends?”
“Daisy, Daisy,” Coulson soothed as he wrapped her in his arms, “Shh..”

Once her breathing had calmed and she’d stopped rambling, Coulson pulled back to meet her worried eyes,
“There’s no one more deserving of a happy ending than you,” he said confidently, “And it’s waiting for you at the end of that aisle. You have to trust in the fact that you and Daniel are strong enough to make it through whatever lies in your future.”

Daisy hadn’t realized there were tears in her eyes till one dripped down her cheek. Coulson was quick to pull a handkerchief out of his pocket and dab at her face.
“Now,” he began with a smile, “I think they’re waiting on us out there.”

Daisy laughed as she collected herself, locating her bouquet and adjusting her dress.

“Okay, let’s do this,” she said with a genuine smile as she took Coulson’s arm.
They left the dressing room and walked the short distance outside, they could hear the violinist that was playing as the bridal party made their way down the aisle. Soon enough, the song switched to the one Daisy had selected as her bridal march. Coulson looked to her for assurance that she was ready, she exhaled slowly and nodded. They began their walk out towards the aisle, all eyes in their small wedding party turning to her but she was only focused on one pair.
Daniel.
He waited at the end dressed in a very dapper black suit, his hand coming up to his cheek to brush a tear away at the sight of his beautiful fiancé. Suddenly, all of Daisy’s racing thoughts calmed and she couldn’t get to the aisle fast enough. Coulson was right, she had earned her happy ending. Daniel and her could make it through whatever came their way, they’d certainly made it through a lot already.
Once they reached the floral archway, Daisy handed her bouquet to Jemma and Coulson switched positions to stand between Daniel and her. To be honest, neither Daisy nor Daniel could remember a thing he was saying. They were too engrossed in each other until they heard the word ‘vows’ spoken.
Daisy volunteered to go first as Jemma handed her the small folded piece of paper,
“Daniel,” she started, “I never in a million years thought I would end up here. Let alone with someone standing across from me who I had to the travel to find,”

A quiet chorus of chuckles rang out.
“But here we are and here I am saying that I would have crossed a million galaxies, traveled to any decade and taken any risk needed if I knew that it was you waiting at the end of all of it. I love you more than anything in this world and whatever may come, good or bad, I know that I can face it with you by my side.”

Daniel swiped at his eyes again as Daisy handed the paper back to Jemma while he took his from Mack,
“Daisy, I shouldn’t be here. But because of you and the team, I’m standing here ready to begin my new life with you. The new life you gave me. You are my first and my last, my beginning and my ending, you’re my superhero. I promise to always pick you up, to always support you in whatever insane ideas you have and to be there in whatever way you need me, till my last breath,” he took Daisy’s trembling hand, “I will love you in this forever and in whatever comes after forever.”

Tears freely streamed down Daisy’s face as he finished, giving her all the reassurance she needed that they’d be okay. They exchanged their rings, said ‘I do’ and then Coulson proudly told Daniel that he could kiss his bride. He took Daisy into his arms and dipped her as they sealed their marriage in the sweetest of kisses.
This, Daisy thought, this is what forever feels like.
————
They’d retired from field work once they’d found out Daisy was pregnant, two years after their wedding. She’d given birth to twins, they’d named them Phillip Daniel Sousa and Mackenzie Anne Sousa. While completely overwhelmed trying to handle two babies, they were happier than they’d ever been. Daisy doubted her abilities as a mother at first since she’d never had a stable family herself. Daniel refused to let her believe she was anything but the best mom in the world.
After Phillip and Mackenzie’s first birthday, Daniel and Daisy agreed that it was time to move out of the city. Their relocated to upstate New York, buying a small house perfect for their family. Their status in SHIELD changed once more as they became consultants rather than full time agents. Neither of them wanted to give up their work totally, but they put their family first before anything else.
Their children grew up hearing stories of their father’s adventures in the fifties and their mother’s daring tales of traveling through space. When they were ten, they both discovered their Inhuman abilities. Daisy trained them to master their abilities flawlessly, she couldn’t have been prouder of her children. When they were older, Phillip became a SHIELD agent while Mackenzie went to SWORD, she was much more interested in space than her brother.
Decades later, Daniel and Daisy sat on the front porch of their home watching the sunset. Their hair had greyed, their skin had wrinkled and they’d lived through more life than most had. Their love had not only survived, it had flourished and grown stronger. They’d kept their vows to each other each and every day, through thick and thin.
Daisy peeked over at her husband, admiring the sunlight on his face just as she had that day on the planet she still couldn’t pronounce the name of. He caught her and turned to face her, his arm wrapped around her waist tightened as he pulled her closer to him.
“You really were my first and last,” he remarked with a smile.
“And I still would’ve travelled to any galaxy to get to you,” she replied, tracing the still sharp jawline.
Daniel leaned forward and kissed Daisy’s temple, “Happy Anniversary, Quake.”

She wrapped her arm around his middle, “Same to you, Danny Boy.”

————
900 Followers Celebration
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LU: Our Nightly Confidant 2
Deserted Hyrule
It could be worse.
Don't get him wrong. He'd gone through far more dangerous situations with not nearly as much ressources, or the faint hope that someone would notice and come help him. He's actually fairly confident he won't die in this ditch. A few factors led him to that conclusion.
For starters, his legs are no longer broken. And he isn't in his Hyrule, so chances are, he's not in immediate and urgent danger of being found by hungry monsters. Which is a very big positive note, because he currently can't do much more than lift a finger. Healing takes a lot out of him, but healing himself is so much worse. Taking his own energy to repair the damage, also a demanding thing to ask of his body... well, he's pretty resigned to spending the night at the bottom of this ravine if none of the others find him before nightfall.
Light is dimming, already hindered by the thick foliage all around him, worsened by the imminent sunset. Shadows crawl on the dirt and the bark of trees, tall spindly things. And yet, it still lacks the sort of venomous promises of home. Back home, no one slept in a forest if they could help it. No one with the will to live, at least. Here? He has the feeling he'll, at worse, be spooked once or twice.
The wind turns, again, and it strokes his hair like a kind old man's hand would. It's strange how appeasing the whistling in his ears feel reassuring. It's nothing like he is used to. Winds don't just stop and start all over again naturally. There's a presence in these woods. Something ancient, tied in the blood of the land. Some Hyrules feel more alive than others. This one is striving, brimmed with an undercurrent of Light.
Twilight had told them not to wander into the woods. It's got a lot of hidden ravines, he said, and poison mists. Hyrule cringes a bit remembering the heavy look aimed at him and Wild. Were he able to travel through time, he'd tell his past self to pay attention. He might have been too confident in his ability to avoid the danger. Poison and sheer drops should have been second nature for him at this point. Between his fairy and his jump spell, he had this covered.
That's probably why he fell now that he thinks about it. He never thought bushes could hide that kind of drop. They never grew around the mountains and hills of his era. The thought brings heat to his cheeks. The Hero of Hyrule, laid low by some harmless bushes.
“Maybe it's best the others don't find me right away. An hour, give or take, and I'll be able to scale this,” he mutters to himself, blushing.
The snap of a twig grips his heart in a vice grip. With what little energy he has, Hyrule snaps his head around to face a large shadowed wolf.
“W-Wolfie?” he asks, his voice uneven.
The bark that is his reply somehow sounds sarcastic. A drawled 'woof' that's like rumbling clouds.
“Huh.”
Despite his better judgement, Hyrule does relax. It's hard not to when faced with something that baffling.
“The others sent you to get me?” he says, remembering the last time the beast had spent hours leading him and Wild through the woods. That glare scorched. “Right, right... huh, think you could wait a few minutes.”
It's not much better tonight.
“Sorry, Wolfie. I got injured in the fall. I healed, but it's taken its toll.”
Worry makes the wolf's face shift. A cold nose pushes against his foot, and Hyrule chuckles at the tickling sensation.
“I'm fine. It's... just a bit of rest should do the trick... I give you a lot of work, don't I?” I am a burden, a failure, he doesn't say.  
With a huff, Wolfie rolls his eyes and lifts his head. For a second there, Hyrule has to blink, convinced the light of dusk is playing a trick on him, but no, Wolfie's fur is darkening. From grey to black. Like ink spilled on top of him, bleeding over his entire form until even his eyes are swallowed into the darkness.
He flinches back, willing his hand to grab his sword. Ache, he thinks. He's been a fool! He was so willing to believe his luck had turned he'd forgotten the most basic safety precautions of his time!
Blocks of darkness fly off Wolfie's silhouette, which somehow doesn't change. Doesn't stretch into a standing position and a face full of mocking fangs. Wolfie disappears in a flurry of pure black and Hyrule's brain stutters to a miserable stop.
And then, just above, the darkness gathers, swirls together. And out emerges Wolfie, same as ever, with the markings on his forehead and the chains clanking against the edges of the ravine. Teleportation.
“You can use magic?!” Hyrule yells, forgetting all about keeping a low profile in the face of that shock. Animals aren't supposed to know magic! Most monsters can't use it!
For some reason Hyrule can't wrap his head around, his shout causes Wolfie to pause. His next movement is more careful, a little more hunched, and he disappears beyond the edge of the cliff, a hint of his tail the only sign that Wolfie has turned around.
Sky would tell him that it's another sign that Hylia is watching over them. That she sent Wolfie as a sort of messenger to pass along hope. Something like that. And Legend would have the hardest time keeping his disdain off his face. For all he was prickly, he also had a sixth sense for what was and wasn't an unacceptable line to cross.
Hyrule... Hyrule doesn't know who he leans toward in that case. Before this quest, he'd have no clue, not because he was uncertain, but because he didn't know what a goddess was supposed to be then. Now that he does, it lacks... appeal. It doesn't help that none of the others can exactly agree who and what the goddesses of the world are, what's the point of belief.
'Faith that there's a way to save yourself,' rings Legend's bitten answer, whispered late at night.
It's probably a coincidence that the moment the memory plays out rope drops quite directly into his hand.
Wolfie is looking down, a low huff and nod for him to grab onto the rope. Even though his every limbs are weighted with iron, he has to give it a fair try.
And he drops the moment he's on his feet.
The dizziness hits worse with the echoes of a panicked bark over the howling wind. He has to close his eyes for a second. What he wouldn't give for a potion right now.
A rough texture licks the back of his hand. It's not anything he ever got to experience before. What few dogs he knew before this were more the sort to bite than offer comfort. And that's what it is, comfort, an apology, maybe, for pushing. Slowly, he opens his eyes, comes face to face with Wolfie, who lets out a pitiful whine.
“Sorry,” Hyrule repeats. “I don't think I can climb that.”
The ears flick on top of Wolfie's head, and he grabs the rope in his mouth. Circles him quickly. Oh. That could work. Together, they manage to tie the rope around his waist, secure it tightly, and Wolfie's gone again. The tugs start right away.
It's uncomfortable at best, but he's not about to complain. Who ever heard of a wolf pulling someone up a cliff before? Throwing someone a length of rope? He figures the discomfort is his punishment for not listening. It doesn't last long regardless. He has to blink back the sleep when his back scrapes on dirt. Groans. Thinks.
Now that he knows Wolfie can use magic, the scolding feels even worse. He's not scared. Just... the weight of those eyes grew. It's not just Wild's tame wolf being sent after him. It's a thinking beast annoyed at his recklessness. He should know better, the glare inside his head tells him.
He bites his tongue. The words don't want to come out.
Wolfie crouches low and nudges him with his nose, hints at his back. An invitation. It makes shame curdle inside his stomach. He can feel it sloshing around. The ravine suddenly sounds appealing. But he can't do that to Wolfie. Not twice in a row. He only has to swallow a bit of embarrassment. He's lucky. So lucky. Most people just die.
Few people ever seem to live in his era.
Wolfie's fur is still unfairly soft even when he can feel the rolling muscles underneath. He lies on top of Wolfie, his arms hooked around the beast's neck, hoping he's not too heavy.
Wolfie makes an inquisitive sound, almost a question.
It takes Hyrule some time to realize he's waiting for an answer too.
“I, yes, I'm ready,” he says, wishing to disappear.
They start at a slow trot. His weight is an obvious burden for the beast he's seen rocket through a battlefield to maul a monster about to strike one of them. His next apology might not even be said out loud. Hyrule's not sure anymore.
Wolfie feels like a well-hidden cave or a barricaded inn room at night. Deep breathes after a sprint to escape a horde. The buzz of magic in his veins, full, potent, ready to fry a daring monster. Face half-buried in his friend's coat, Hyrule's eyelids grow heavy. The exhaustion of his accident, pushed aside by the meeting with Wolfie, is returning with a vengeance.
He listens to the rhythm of Wolfie's steady heartbeat. The breaking of twigs and brushing of leaves on fur. Little grunts when the wolf goes over large roots and the scritches of claws on bark.
“I... I used to be pretty scared of wandering off, you know?” he whispers into the wall of fur.
Wolfie swerves and twists, his big head turning just enough to give Hyrule a glimpse of a wide blue eye. Shock is an understatement.
He can't help it. He chuckles and runs a hand just behind Wolfie's ears, the way Time does on rare occasions. He is rewarded with a huff and a jolt when Wolfie picks up the pace again.
“It's a dangerous business, going out your doors. So I never did, until one day there was no one left and the food had run out. Then an old man gave me a sword. That's the kindest thing a stranger ever did for me,” he says, fond, the bearded old man flashing through his memory.
A quiet whine rings to his ears. Wolfie's posture lowers. Hyrule can't quite tell what it means. Is the wolf tired? Ashamed? Exasperated? He's not sure. But now that he started talking, it's harder to stop.
“Once in a while, I'd meet people that would help me. Offer me shelter. Help me treat my wounds. But nothing like that first time. When I first wandered around, past the little alcove that had been my home forever, into the great vastness of my country. And it was a hundred times bigger than I could imagine from my little hole in the ground. That old man... gave me the world.”
Fireflies fly above, and Hyrule leaves his thoughts to trail off. These woods are lovely. Yes, even with the hidden drops and the ravines with whistling winds, with the deku babas here and there that leer at the wolf too far for them to reach... all he sees is a forest thriving, so full of life it's in the very air he breathes.
“I... Poisonous mists didn't sound so bad. I've got tons of poisonous rivers, full of hostile zoras. Poisonous swamps, full of monsters. Heck, poisonous caves too... My Hyrule's pretty harsh, y'know?”
A grunt. Not angry. Just... a grunt.
“Don't get me wrong, it's my home. I love it. And I'm not jealous. I'm not!”
Even though Wolfie is looking forward, never faltering from the obstacles on his path, Hyrule can feel Wolfie's full attention bearing down on him. Can feel the anticipation, the worry. And a knot in his chest unties itself long enough for a fear never voiced to suddenly latch onto words and thoughts.
“But how will I look the princesses in the eye if I can't even describe to them what the world would be like without Ganon's influence? If I can't give them hope for a bright future when I've been to those futures myself? I don't want to fail them.”
Fur soaks up a stray tear or two.
His tongue refuses to move anymore. They make the rest of the trip in silence.
                                                  ***
The others, indeed, hadn't been very pleased, but Hyrule had more or less fallen asleep before the eldests (minus Twilight somehow) had finished berating him. He'd woken up just before dawn, greeted Four still on the third watch, and busied himself until the inevitable. He's not looking forward to the concealed worry on Legend's face or the exasperation on Warriors'.
He hovers on the outskirts of the camp.
Which is where he notices, at first lights, their goatherd breaking away from the group. 'Probably going to relieve himself' is Hyrule's guess. It could have been true, but when the others start stirring, Hyrule's hit by a bunch of nerves. Nothing wrong happened to Twilight, right? It's his era, he can't have been taken out by a surprise cliff, right?
He takes off in the direction he saw his elder leave. And, luckily, he's easy to spot in the plains of Hyrule Fields. There's little but grass and the occasional tree here. Yet, Twilight's crouching behind a rock.
Puzzled, Hyrule lowers himself to the ground and tiptoes near Twilight.
“What's going on? Is there an enemy nearby?”
Twilight hides part of his grin by putting a finger to his lips. In his other hand, he's holding some strange weapon. With a long wooden handle and then a circular hand, with... a cloth hood? He... is that something to suffocate your enemy? It's a violent thought, and he doesn't quite associate it with Twilight, their farmhand, their goatherd, who'll whistle with grass on a slow evening.
It's twice as strange for the lack of visible monsters around. He prays it's not another round of  moas or kasutos...
Responding to an unheard signal, Twilight stalks forward. Crawls on his knees, slow and patient. The pelt on his back is coming alive in Hyrule's mind. He needs to blink, to chase away the image of a wild animal, and by the time he does, Twilight is pouncing, weapon striking a tree.
“Gotcha,” Twilight says, pumping a fist.
“Huh?” He couldn't see a thing. Did he forget the cross somewhere...?
“Hyrule, come here.”
Twilight's hands are cupped together, hiding something from view. It immediately tickles his curious side, who can't help lean forward.
He gasps.
The bug's shell glimmers in the morning light. Specks of dust around it catch its glow. Sparkle. He's never seen an animal like this. With hesitant fingers, he makes a reaching motion. A very faint hums of magic brushes against his finger before the beetle scurries backward. That's Twilight's cue, it seems, and the bug is dropped into a glass bottle, cork sealing it in. He can't help the pang of envy that pierces through his heart at the sight.
Twilight rubs the back of his neck, rueful. “Never been big on going out of my village, it's the farmer in me, but darn if some things don't feel worth the risk. Home's nice, but Hyrule as a whole... s'a place of wonder for me.”
“It is,” Hyrule says, unable to quite look away from the little thing.
“Want to keep it?”
And Hyrule's heart is sent into a stuttering mess, his hands clenching around the little glass bottle so hard he fears it'll break.
“I... can I?”
He doesn't dare hope yet.
Twilight's mouth pulls into a wry grin. “Sure thing. Bit of a hobby of mine at this point. Bug catching, I mean. There's this girl in Castletown that used to pay me to find some for her. I scoured my whole Hyrule looking to find all the golden bug species. Fetched me a pretty rupee.”
“Oh, huh, right, lemme see how much I-”
“Don't be daft, 'Rule,” Twilight says, slapping him between his shoulder blades. “You don't make brothers pay. 'specially not for a bug, of all things. I'll find a dozen the next time I look. Mind you, you might wanna check on 'em once you're back. Queen Zelda told me them buggers can spread like nobody's business. They think each other's shell's pretty too.”
A wink.
And there's a vision in his mind, of golden lights fluttering through Saria Town at night. Of colonies of radiant ants scuttering in the burning hills and shining dragonflies hanging from reeds. He thinks of that gentle warmth from the beetle's shell, spread like dots over ravaged countryside. Little, in the face of poisoned wells and bone-thin monsters. Little, just a sign that it's not only evil that thrives. Would that be so bad?
Hyrule's mouth feels a bit dry. He swallows, dares meet Twilight's gaze. “Would it be okay if... if we looked for more of them?”
Twilight's blue eyes – nearly the same shade as Wild's wolf – flicker back to the camp, and Hyrule fights to keep the disappointment off his face. Of course. Twilight is one of the responsible Heroes. Someone the others say has 'common sense' – that Hyrule never seems to grasp. Going on a bug catching quest was a nice thought, but they obviously can't. They have a mission. The others would disapprove.  
And then, Twilight turns back to him with a look that's startlingly like Wild's. “How fast can you run?”
He stalls. “I, dunno, the monsters never caught me, but-”
“Good enough for me.”
The bug net is shoved into Hyrule's hands, and it's all he can do to grip it before it slips through his fingers. Yet the moment he's holding it, Twilight bolts, waving a hand to beckon him.
This... this he can do. Running's easy. Stamina's simple. He's never had trouble pacing himself. It's easy, comforting, to sprint after Twilight's back. For once, his eyes don't wander to the breathtaking beauty of a Hyrule spared the King of Evil's malice. They stay firmly on the black pelt strapped to Twilight's back, the swaying tail at his belt, the pulled hood and ears. There's the same comfort there, the same... magic he found in resting his head against Wolfie's fur. The same promise. Safety.
It's not a feeling he is used to. But he loves it.
And he runs, a wide smile on his face, already eager to show the princesses the wonders that their Hyrule might one day have.
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buck-nialled · 4 years
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Empty Pages - R. Mendes (3)
NOTE: well if you saw my last post then you know how this chapter is going to end but if you haven't, well, get ready *cue evil laughter* also let me know if you’d like to be added to the tag list by messaging or replying to this post, thanks!
PROLOGUE // PART ONE // PART TWO
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Raul was not expecting to put that much effort into the drawing, really. Half of the hard work was already done, thanks to Lily and Mrs. Basel discussing most of what the work’s finer elements were right in earshot of him. The boy thought by the time he was finished sketching out the rough design in number two pencil, going as far as to outline it in black pen exhibited enough effort. But he knew it was lacking in its message and persuasion. The anger only the red colored pencil glaring at him from the unopened box buried beneath the healing pile of past schoolwork on his desk could portray to his audience. His fingers twitched and finally, his body caved and leaped up from his bed and to his desk where he reached for the box of perfectly sharpened, untouched pencils.
He was tentative with his color choice, and even more cautious when blending the different shades and allowing movement across the piece. No weights nor frivolous purchases of ripped jeans and leather jackets would come to be quite as cathartic as scrubbing the colored lead furiously back and forth across the paper. A full two hours had passed when Raul finally conceded to his completed drawing and set the dull pencil down. His hands were cramping, and various splotches of blended wax tainted his palms and knuckles like bruises, but he felt okay with it, strangely.
“Hey, Raul do you—” Shawn’s voice made his brother’s head snap up from the drawing to look at him. “Woah, dude…that looks great.” Shawn slowly approached his brother’s work with caution, afraid to lift even a finger in fear of Raul reaching out to snap it. “And I thought you were going to cheat off of me or Pete.” He chuckles, eyes continuing to study the slogan and illustration encompassing the destruction of routine and tradition. “You came up with this yourself?”
Raul bit his lip, now becoming irritated with Shawn’s wandering eyes. “Did you need something?” The older asks, rising up from his bed so his frame could shield the paper. Shawn’s eyes grew wide and he cleared his throat.
“Yeah, I was just gonna ask if you still had that drawing stuff. You know, the stuff that mom gave you that one—” Shawn’s ask was interrupted with a sharp “oof” when Raul shoved the box of pencils against his chest.
“Anything else you need?” He quirks a brow to his brother. Shawn sets his lips into a firm line and shakes his head, before sending Raul a quick ‘thanks’ and retreating back into his own bedroom. When his bedroom door is shut once again, Raul heaves a sigh and lets his tired hands into the river of curls say on his head. The heap of gel he applied to his hair this morning made the dark locks a little less smooth than what he had imagined. Turning back to face the paper with a sigh, Shawn’s unanswered question continued ringing in his ears until he slid the paper into his folder and the folder into his backpack.
“It’s just a project. Just a project…” Raul repeated this mantra to himself that night until he fell asleep.
The following morning, Lily waltzed up to her teacher’s desk with the best smile her fatigued state could muster, propaganda in hand ready to hand in.
“Here you are, Mrs. K.”
“Oh, no sweetie. You’re going to be presenting them.” Her eyes flicked away from the digital attendance sheet on her computer screen and to the young woman. Lily notes that her eyes never even glanced over her work, meaning other students must have had the same idea of turning it in.
“Oh…everybody?” Her smile begins faltering. The teacher hums and sends a small nod, cueing Lily to walk to her desk with crushed expectations. As she sank down into the chair, the sight of a brooding form drenched in black caught her site. She tilted her head to the right, spotting Raul Mendes early and eager in his chair. Had Raul not been adorned in the shirt with burn holes near his collarbone and eight years younger, there was no doubt Lily would be on the edge of her seat beside him, drumming against the wooden desks with their no. 2 pencils in anticipation.
But Lily would say she overall felt a riveting urge in her stomach to make a beeline toward the school clinic and bluff her anxiety with a stomachache. Mrs. K completed attendance as the girl continued to gnaw on her lip.
“Alright, let’s begin!” The instructor announces, reading down the line of various names. Finally, she reached ‘M’ and beckoned Raul up to stand before the rows of desks and share his work. Normally, Raul would prefer his brothers (mostly Peter) to be in the same class as him, in order for time to be stalled even longer for any assignments the oldest might have missed the night previous. Raul, however, lacked a single complaint in his mind as he let his black sneakers steer him to stand in front of his English class with a tantalizing smirk.
“I title this piece: Breaking Tradition.” Silence followed the boy’s introduction due to the overwhelming surprise his peers felt that Raul not only completed his project within the given time limit but did so marvelously. Some lips parted in appalment--Mrs. K’s included—while others gasped. The initial silence was not long-lasting, however, and the proof lied in arbitrary whisper’s floating around the cinderblock building, all discussing Raul’s piece.
But one voice remained silent through the tirade of talk. Her jaw was too busy clenching furiously. Her teeth were grinding together to the point where they might have ground one another to dust but Lily could care less. That was her idea on his paper. That was her design she discussed with Mrs. Basel only a day prior, which was displayed gloriously on Raul Mendes’s paper. Even worse, it looked better than hers did, despite the hours she spent through the night blending and measuring and lettering every word on the damn slogan to perfection.
And the man stood to the front of the class just sat with an accomplished smile and dazzling brown eyes, as if he thought he deserved the credit. Her heart began thrumming in her chest, drowning out some of Raul’s syllables amidst his explanation which Lily was certain mimicked her presentation verbatim. Her fingers curled and twisted against her palms, the nails she would bite everyday subconsciously now digging broken crescents into her skin. Mad was one emotion Lily never found herself yearning to express—unlike Raul, who found no trouble allowing his to show a swelling bruise against Connor’s cheek—but this anger surging through her veins and rampant pulse appearing at her temples in seconds felt multiplied. The girl was furious.
As her sight of Raul began to become tainted with red, she detected Raul’s eyes in one, continuous spot. They remained on Isabella’s seat for the duration of his speech, though his target was not trying her hardest to reciprocate. From Lily’s seat, one could see the artificial light graze the girl’s profile like a brushstroke. Her jawline was slim and sharp, yet her lips portrayed a soft, childlike pout as she gazed adoringly down at her recently manicured set, coated in only the most overelaborate-named polishes, like “Harp Seal Silver Fur” or “Black Kyoto Pearl”. If it was not her nails, it was the new string of text messages her and Connor were participating in more often than class discussions if the teacher was too enthralled by the symbolism Orwell disguises so carefully, or how the human brain makes up an entire two percent of your body weight.
Unfortunately for Lily, she was also seated beside Isabella in their anatomy course, very much against her will.
“Brilliant job.” Mrs. K mutters to Raul upon him handing her his work. He returns the compliment with a taller smirk than he was holding before as if he was not staring into the woman responsible for questioning his attendance only two days prior. His eyes flickered back to Isabella and remained on her throughout his journey back into his desk seat, absorbing her from every angle, and allowing his footsteps to slow in their stride.
“Lily?” Her head snapped away from the spot Raul was just occupying, to Mrs. K, heartbeat rattling her ribcage like a xylophone out of tune.
“Huh?”
“It’s your turn…” The teacher informs.
“Oh…uh…” Her cheeks were aflame but thankful for her shoulder-length hair to curtain them as she tilted her head down to the open binder. Her work glared back at her, yearning so badly to be picked up and bragged about, but how was she to repeat the last five minutes of class in a different body and less adequate art piece, and not expect consequences. Judging by Raul’s unbridled confidence, Lily doubts he would come clean about his plagiarism. Even worse, he would not hesitate to manipulate the situation to fixate the blame on Lily, instead. It was not hard to do with the golden honey encapsulated in his irises and pair of choppers he has since been exchanging for a fine smirk. The point is that, though she had an honest reputation, so did Raul Mendes—for the most part. And who was she to allow that to possibly deteriorate within a matter of minutes over a school assignment?
It would be the mature thing to do, sure. But this was high school, and an eighteen your old Raul Mendes has made it clear that playing dirty in order to appease this newly constructed figure of his was less than bothersome.
“I guess…I-I forgot.” Lily murmurs quietly from her desk, closing her binder to remove the work from her sight. “Sorry, Mrs. K.” There was a tingling sensation against her right cheek from Raul’s speculating pair, but the feeling faded from her profile seconds after Isabella’s presence was invited to the front of the class by the instructor.
She would find a way to avenge the assignment soon. Little did her privy classmate know that Lily Mirray could play dirty when fate beckons for it. And fate’s call was Isabella standing up from her seat and strutting towards the whiteboard, skirt swishing in each step.
Raul’s fascinated stare remained on Isabella’s form throughout her entire presentation.
And so did Lily’s.
TAGLIST; @fanficshawn @lonelyreputation @shawnmendez @fan-of-many-bands
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keelywolfe · 4 years
Text
Drabble: Not A Side-Eye (baon)
Notes: Gilded_pleasure made a mention recently that they love the way everyone at the Embassy seems to be somewhat protective of Edge. That Edge thinks he's a complete hardass and everyone knows that beneath his pointy exterior lies the soul of a true marshmallow.
It's so true, poor boy, so of course they are all invested in his happiness.
Tags:  Spicyhoney, Established Relationship, Domestic Fluff
Part of the ‘by any other name’ series.
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Read it on AO3
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Read it here!
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The Embassy was always a hub of activity during the day. On the first floor were meeting rooms for visitors, mostly Humans and Monsters without security clearance. As one went further into the building, entry was more limited. The higher the floor, the more clearance required, and the basement levels were the reverse, the deepest levels restricted to those with the most security access.
Edge’s office was on the third floor and despite the necessity of limiting access to the floor, there was always a flurry of activity around. Mailroom clerks delivering paperwork and carefully screened packages, personal assistants rushing from room to room to with time sensitive messages, even the occasional Monster from Security strolling through the floors at odd hours for inspections that were on a schedule privy to very few.
Edge could always tell which of the security personnel were personally trained by Red; their placid expressions were unreadable, their eyes coolly observant as they scanned their surroundings. And so, it was a good guess that his brother hadn’t trained the Monster who was looking at him now. They were all but staring, watching him make his slow way through the hallway.
“Can I help you?” Edge asked coolly. He refused to be self-conscious about his scooter, it was a necessary medical device, thank you, and not open for mockery.
“Huh? Oh, no,” the Monster waved him off with a self-conscious little laugh, another clear sign that Red hadn’t had a hand in his training. “Sorry, it was just…you know…” He lightly tapped the side of his face and Edge might have been further offended if it weren’t very clear that he didn’t mean the obvious crack in his socket.
“I’m afraid I don’t know,” Edge let his voice drop from cool to icy, “would you care to explain?”
Once, that tone would have inspired fear in whoever it was directed at and while that wasn’t exactly his goal, it was dissatisfying for the Monster to only shake his head, muttering another apology smothered with amusement as he turned and walked down towards the elevators. Edge only watched him go, more perplexed than upset.
It might have irritated him more if it weren’t for the fact that he wasn’t the only Monster giving him strange looks this morning. There was nothing in them that Edge could pinpoint, no particular flick of eyes towards anyplace obvious, not even the fly of his pants which would at least prompt him to check his zipper. If he had to choose a word to describe it, he supposed he might call those glances fond, of all things, though why every person who passed him by today might give him such a look, he couldn’t begin to guess.
Edge could only shake his head and continued on his way back to his office, careful of the two cups secured in the front basket. He made a mental note to simply ask Janice for a refill the next time he wanted coffee.
Ah. Janice. She might be the key to all this that he needed.
She was sitting at her desk as Edge rolled back into the outer office, glancing up with a smile as he set her coffee cup on her desk. Her expression turned questioning when he didn’t go on to his own office.
“Why does everyone keep looking at me today?” Edge asked bluntly. “I thought it was the scooter, but they aren’t laughing at me or mocking, so what is it?”
“What do you mean?” Janice asked, her brow furrowing, “and I’m sure no one is laughing at you, everyone was very worried about you, they’re happy to have you back.”
That much was true. The morning he’d returned, he’d discovered a card on his desk, signed by nearly everyone in the Embassy, including Asgore. He’d been quite touched, and the card was sitting propped up on his desk, right next to his stuffed chicken, Pot Pie. He already had plans to spend some time this coming Saturday baking plenty of treats to bring in next week as a thank you.
As for right now, he’d spent enough time around Stretch to know when someone was hedging on the verge of a lie, buying time to come up with something reasonably believable.
Time was of the essence and he knew from experience that demands weren’t the route to take; better to make an attempt at appealing to her maternal instincts. Edge would never excel as an actor or a liar, that much he knew. Instead, he took all of his knowledge of his husband’s skills in that area and channeled it, letting it guide him into creating a perfectly pleading expression as he wheedled out, “Tell me?”
Janice wilted instantly beneath the force of his imploring gaze, surely this was a power that should be wielded with caution. “Well…it might be because of Stretch’s twitter post.”
Of course it was. Edge sighed, resigned to his fate, “What did he say?”
There was a certain sympathy in her smile, “It might be better if you check for yourself.”
He went to his office and dug out his phone. The twitter app was buried on the third menu, he rarely opened it since he only followed two people on it and only truly cared about one of them. He tapped the icon and the very first tweet leapt out at him.
had someone send me a message asking me what i do for a living. not much for the 9 to 5, i usually work my hardest trying to make my babycakes happy. it’s a tough job, but someone’s gotta do it!
It was followed by a flurry of emoticons, mostly of hearts and fireworks, along with a cake and the odd random chili pepper. Beneath the message was a picture of Stretch, a selfie in profile. He was pressing a spectacularly messy kiss against what Edge knew was his own cheekbone, but the picture was carefully cropped to show only a sliver of his face and one of his boots, tangled between Stretch’s sneakered feet.
More fodder for the internet speculators who were so strangely invested in their relationship. It seemed some of his co-workers were equally invested if those earlier looks meant anything.
He didn’t remember Stretch taking this picture, but then, he took so many that wasn’t unexpected. He supposed it should bother him, to have his private life so exposed, even in the periphery. Instead, all he felt was a swell of his own fondness, looking at that picture, at Stretch’s visible glee, the curve of his smile showing from around that kiss. Perhaps he could ask Stretch for an uncropped copy, assuming one existed.
Impulsively, he typed a reply, saying only, you’re a good worker, you should ask your boss for a raise. Then he closed the app before any other comments could pour in. There was only one he cared to see, and he suspected it would come as a text.
His phone chimed right on time, but not from the expected source. His brother sent him a text, curt and to the point.
don’t worry ‘bout earlier, boss, it’ll get handled.
Well, it looked like the security Monster from earlier would be getting a little personal training from Red, after all. Meanly vindicated, Edge sat down at his desk with his coffee to get back to work. He could use some time to prepare himself for any looks he got on his way down to lunch.
-fin
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chiimmchiimm · 4 years
Text
❝ 𝖒𝖔𝖓𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗 !¡ 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓇𝓉𝑒𝑒𝓃 ❞
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CHAPTERS “  01 - 02 - 03 - 04 - 05 - 06 - 07 - 08 - 09 - 10 -  11  - 12 - 13 - 14 - 15 - 16 - 17 - 18 - 19 - 20 - 21 - 22 - 23 - 24 - 25 - 26 - 27 “  
The northern jail was the most dangerous in the country, social scum, thousands of criminals were locked behind their bars. Who would tell poor Blair that he would end up there because of his father’s mistake. The problem was not the lack of hot water, but that inhuman obsession that many of the prisoners had for “new toys.” Rookies had two options; be submissive and abide by veterans’ orders or suffer the dangerous anger of those disturbed minds. It all started one night when Blair had the bad idea of ​​going to shower alone.
𝒫𝒶𝒾𝓇𝒾𝓃𝑔: Jungkookoffender au x (female: Blair).   𝒢𝑒𝓃𝓇𝑒: Genre: smut.(later), offender au, fluff, angst. 𝒲𝑜𝓇𝒹𝓈: 4.3 k 𝑅𝒶𝓃𝓆𝓊𝒾𝓃𝑔:  +18   𝒲𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔:   dirty language, lies, mood swings, spectacular and close bodies, muscles, biceps, problems, very big problems, resolved threats, future friends, jealousy on her part, sad but spicy conversation in the end, rare metaphors ... 𝒜𝓊𝓉𝒽𝑜𝓇’𝓈 𝓃𝑜𝓉𝑒:  A long time, dear readers, I paused to finish the story completely. I will try to upload the chapters more often. Great things are coming !! Thank you very much for reading and enjoy the chapter !!
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Did you have me for what?
  Fucking shit because every time we talked, he left me with the word in his mouth and left, leaving the greatest suspense in history. It seemed like her favorite hobby, confusing me as she tried to make sense of everything she said. But all that was a dead end because every time I reached a conclusion he would come and make me think a thousand different times. I never understood men, much less this one. I did not like the feeling of uncertainty that settled in my chest every time I had the privilege of being the recipient of such ambiguous words.
   My fist hit the leather material with enthusiasm. I did not know at what point I had arrived at the prison gym, I was only aware of my actions when I noticed the cold latex contrast with the heat of my knuckles. Maybe I had found my way to let off steam. When he hit the bag he didn't think, he just moved the muscles unconsciously. I needed that, let go of instinct and stop thinking about deep eyes and strong arms with wonderfully perfect tattoos.
  I liked that inmates ignored me, it had been a long time since I had heard loud compliments and overly embarrassing sexist comments. In a way, they had learned to respect my space and they didn't bother me as much, of course, the presence of Thirteen had been a mitigating factor worthy of note. In these weeks my relationship with Thirteen (if the strange bond that unites us can be called that) had advanced to such a point that I did nothing without him at my side. I suppose that we had a common goal, to protect his sister, but in fact, I liked that he will also ensure my safety. Since the occurrence of the baths he had not detached himself from me, and in a way, his company did not bother me as surprisingly I thought he would. He was not as bad as he thought, his grumpy character had been lowered considerably in these weeks, he was no longer the same serious boy whose only facial gesture was manifested through a slight involuntary blink. Without going any further, he continued to maintain that firm and regal posture but there were times when he thought he saw a small smile appear.
 A smile like now.
"If the sack had a mouth, it would be laughing at your blows." I hear his mockery between the roars of my fists hitting the leather material. His back was turned to him but I could imagine how his corners rose in a mischievous smile that only screamed the desire he had to make me rage. His longtime favorite hobby. Buffet exhausted and then stop hitting the stuff to turn me around. Thirteen received my frown with a small laugh.
"Yeah, but you have to understand that not everyone lives three meters away and has arms bigger than their head." I blurted out, she seemed to look annoyed but both he and I knew that my contemptuous tone was overactive. Cross your arms to calm the hectic movement of my chest. For him it had been nothing more than small blows but he had really left my breath. Long heavy breaths with her mouth ajar as she skeptically watched him. I felt how the beads of sweat gradually accumulated on my forehead and then bathed my neck with pride. Thirteen observed me sitting from an exercise table, with his dark eyebrow raised as he followed the path of a drop that went down the column of my neck towards my tank top. My breathing increased dramatically for reasons other than exercise when her tongue came out in a provocative dance to wet her two parted lips. I squeezed my arms to cover the view of my semi-transparent white sweatshirt. I felt very intimidated on my feet, as her eyes traveled everywhere she had exposed. Even more when her dramatic silence began to bore me and my mind began to produce thoughts about how good the white T-shirt she wore today looked, how well her tattoos stood out in the artificial light of the bar lamps and in the wide and fluffy that turned his thighs when crushed when sitting.
I swallowed hard to catch my breath as Thirteen scrambled to her feet to impose her height on me. I had to tilt my neck up to see the dark glow in his eyes.
"I'm not ten feet tall," I groan with a small pout as I wrinkle my nose and frown. Her gesture made me laugh a little. However, I stopped laughing when his eyes dropped to my wet little cleavage. My breath hitched and the mouth of my throat began to dry. I part my lips in a snap, causing her to soon admire his movement. "However, I have parts of my body that are quite large."
  Snap your fingers in front of your face to catch their attention. Immediately his eyes stopped admiring the beginning of my breasts to settle on me as if nothing.
"My face is up here, Thirteen."
   I pass a slanting self-sufficient smile as I stared at mine. A look too intense to hold for too long. For a fraction of a second I wished I had closed my mouth, because at least the other way I didn't notice how nervous I was when his pupils dominated mine too easily. Turn the sack around and hit it to camouflage the tension that had formed from the awkward silence.
  Center the force of my punches at one point to increase damage to the bag, isolating myself from around me. Suddenly, my back hit the hard surface of his chest. I immediately froze by canceling any future moves I intended to make. I swallowed so that the dryness of my mouth was not so bothersome. My stomach clenched as the weight of his hands began to warmly embrace my hip. I tried to glance askance at his body but his hands held me in place. One of his legs came slowly down the side of my body, when his thigh brushed against mine I swore I heard a gasp escape from his lips that landed directly on the surface of my ear when he leaned enough so that I could feel the wetness of my skin from his lip.
"You are too weak to leave all the weight of the blow in your hands," he whispered in a graver tone than usual. I deduced from the movement of his chest that he looked more disturbed than the normal stability of his voice reflected. He raised his hands leaving a silky path too nice, I closed my eyes unconsciously when he left them on my waist. By then, my breathing was too strong to try to hide it. It was as if after his hot walk my joints would stop working, submitting to the sweet torture of his overly provocative caresses. In a movement that caught me completely off guard, he thrust his knee into the hollow of mine and dug his fingers into my waist to propel me forward so that my fist hit the material. Incredibly the bag moved for the first time since I started my workouts. I opened my eyes forgetting, or rather, trying to ignore how good my whole body felt when feeling the cozy warmth of his big hands.
“But how?” I asked, too surprised by the simple fact that I never thought I would ever be able to move the bag on my own. In a quick blink I managed to glance askance at her face, her sharp detailed jaw in front of my eyes giving me a perfect perspective of her wonderful profile. His well-formed cheekbones and the relief of his large nose. I even managed to discover amid the roughness of his broad neck a small mole that caused a sweetness to the eye. Thirteen realizing my devotion to new discoveries of her skin, I turn my head completely. His wild pupils dominated mine leaving me at his disposal. The moisture on my lips felt a sharp chill as it contrasted with his hot breath.
"You are small, you have almost no muscle and you hardly know how to defend yourself." All you can do is attack strong enough first to give yourself time to run away.
I felt ashamed for her lack of confidence in my physical state, more than hurt, however, deep down I knew she was right and that's why I kept quiet. I was never a physically strong girl before, I did not win a fight in my life and if I did it was not for me, but because someone interrupted. And maybe that was what bothered me so much that even knowing I was right I didn't want him to see me as a helpless animal that had no other way than to flee. I've been running away from an abuser all my life, and I think sometimes people get tired of running away. In my case, quite a long time ago.
"Well then, teach me how to defend myself," I whispered in a conciliatory tone. Thirteen I raise one leaves surprised by my interest, however, a short time later began to form a smile marked by pride. I felt good at the time, able to do anything.
“Do you see the black area of ​​the bag?” He pointed his eyes forward, making him turn his head towards his directions. Take a close look at the black stripe that covered the top of the bag. He bit back an unsatisfied moan as he remembered that it was the hardest area. At first I had tried to soften her but had done nothing other than bruise my knuckles thoroughly. I nodded a little confused for not understanding what was the interest of her looking right there. His finger reached to the start of the sack just on the edge as the material slipped in to form a flattened circumference. Raise your head to facilitate my perspective. It was almost funny to see how his hand reached that height without any problem knowing that I would not even jump. I gave a little frightened gasp when I stick his lip to the cartilage of my ear and whisper softly as if he were telling me a story. "This area corresponds to the beginning of the forehead. and the small fissure that corresponds to the mouth, lower is the jaw and a little lower is the jugular and finally the neck. "I was amazed to be a spectator of so much strategy. It was true, if I could get a better look there were marked parts that corresponded to all the parts that he had named, it was only necessary to pay more attention to the details. His finger attached to the hand of his tattooed joint looked powerful, large, so mesmerizing from the dance of his marked veins. "You just have to look for the area that you think can fuck the most." But if I give you some advice, the first blow send it directly to the neck, you will leave it breathless for a few seconds long enough so that you can punch it and knock it to the ground.
"I will," I swore safely.
"Yes," he whispered, dragging me into a world full of chills. Her lip had settled on my skin like it was her second home. The contrast was so relaxing when enough time passed. Her lip was so soft as well as hot. In an instant I found myself casting a longing gaze at him. I did not know why I simply began to feel an exaggerated desire to see his black eyes again. He reciprocated in seconds. I regretted when I realized the very compromising position I was in. His face was too close to the point that his nose was caressing mine. The long arm I had as a support began to slide down until it was inches from my neck. Everything seemed to disappear around me when Thirteen began to bow her head with a desperate slowness.
“Am I interrupting?” A voice foreign to us interrupted the moment too abruptly. Thirteen stopped leaning quickly to look at the unknown person. Suddenly, I noticed how his jaw clenched and his nose widened. When I could feel the tension in his shoulders I couldn't help but turn around and understand why Thirteen had reacted that way. "I was looking for you, Thirteen."
    I instantly recognized that wicked smile and that piercing look.
"I don't have time for your psycho shit, Hong Kong." Thirteen replied with a tired air in the reflection of his voice. The named broadening the smile further exposing his tongue pircing more than macabre. His yellowish, sharp teeth began to create small retches at the beginning of my stomach. I don't know if it was fear of everything I had heard from him or simply because I didn't like how tense everything was getting, I just knew that I wanted to leave urgently. 
Suddenly, Thirteen's hand caught my wrist too hard to push me on its way. However, we could not take two steps as miraculously two men appeared in front of us just as creepy as the other one standing in our way. I heard a deep sound come from Thirteen's throat as a warning. The taller of the two, a blond with a beard, seemed unaffected, however the smaller one truly doubted his position.
"I said I was looking for you." He spoke again in the same neutral tone. I looked at Thirteen immediately but he didn't stop terrifyingly shooting the bearded blond. His fingers wrapped more and more tightly around my wrist, letting me understand that he was getting quite angry, but also that he was getting nervous.
"Take off," he growled at the blonde. I was quite surprised by the cold and terrifying tone I use. It had been a long time since I had seen that part of him. And I admit, I wasn't liking seeing her again, it was too scary.
"You should thank me that I have had the education to introduce myself here to ask you myself if the rumors I have heard from some prisoners are true."
   Suddenly, the air became much heavier. I watched with some panic as he closed his left hand into a fist. I had never seen him lose control like that, it was as if his rational part had suddenly vanished and another good had appeared instead. There was a moment when his fingers were clenching too hard, he groaned silently but with enough plea for him to hear my complaint. As if it was a sign that she was being carried away by the impulse her hand loosened suddenly causing her to exhale in relief.
"Surprise me," he spelled slowly but very demanding.
"Well, it turns out that one of my trusted men was suspiciously sent to the hospital with a broken jaw. Rumors have it that it was because he messed with the wrong girl."
    My mouth clenched impossibly to hold back a gasp. I had an urge to cover my lips to hide a scream but I held steady for the sake of both of us. You didn't have to be very smart to know what he was talking about. My good imagination played a trick on me, scenes of a guy lying on the floor drinking his own blood while Thirteen kept giving him more blows. I felt guilty because this was all for me. I knew I was that girl Hong Kong was talking about as I also knew that my problems were starting to affect Thirteen and I felt pretty bad.
"Yes, he messed with the wrong girl."
   Hong Kong slowly shook his head to the side. His smile exuded amusement, an ironic glow that had rendered me speechless. Thirteen managed to move a little toward him to keep his gaze. He positioned himself with his back to me and when I was afraid to stay behind with the two Hong Kong men, suddenly, I felt a hand catch mine to calm me down. Ironically, this was the first time he had shaken my hand. I couldn't turn off the disappointment of my heart because I really waited for that moment for a long time without realizing it. Fears left me when the warmth of his hand took mine.
   However, my eyes caught an abundant body moving from the corner of my periphery, I slightly turned my neck and it was when all the nerves returned ripping without mercy. The sweat suddenly turned cold as I froze as I saw something shiny and pointed mockingly peek out of the blonde's sleeve.
    When he took a step forward, I knew in that instant his terrifying intentions. His eyes glued to a fixed point on Thirteen's back as his eyes sparkled with anticipation. I really didn't know what to do, not when I knew what was going to happen if I didn't do something. Thirteen was on his back, he was protecting me, he was ignoring two psychopaths so he didn't have to deal with Hong Kong's bloodshot eyes. My chest rose so high that my heart began hammering inside my ear. Taking a rather exaggerated exhalation of air I placed myself in front of him with open palms.
"Don't do it! Are you really planning to take that out here when you have a camera pointed directly at the nape of your neck and another in front of us?" I whispered quite upset. I controlled my tone with concentration but if I could analyze the nuances of my babble I could Successfully deducing that I was truly terrified. The blonde remained impassive at my little hysteria and just then laughed at me. I felt small under his wicked gaze, I opened my mouth to cover an overly revealing gasp.
It was at that moment that Thirteen turned suddenly to make sure with a quick glance that he was fine. Afterward, I watch the blonde glaring at him with so much fury permeated by every detail of his pupils that I cut his laughter abruptly. Thirteen wrinkled his nose and grunted in his direction as he took two steps causing the blonde to back off at the same time colliding with his partner.
"Don't go near her, motherfucker."
    His roar was too aggressive. Her nostrils flared at the strong breaths. His brow furrowed together with his nose. But really, really it was the dilated vein in his neck that could really stand out from the whole scene.
“The wrong girl, huh?” Hong Kong cooed quietly. Thirteen seemed to lose track of the situation for a couple of seconds. He blinked nervously for a couple of seconds but knew how to compose himself skillfully. I didn't even need to look at him to know that he was controlling himself terribly. Her knuckles couldn't be whiter and I could swear her nails were digging deeper and deeper into her palms. When Hong Kong spoke again the air came back to me again. "Let's go, I already got the answer I wanted."
     True to his word, Hong Kong and the other two left when the Asian signaled for them to follow him. The tension returned to me when the blond collided his shoulder with Thirteen's when it passed by him. Thirteen smirked as he moved his leg to sneakily hit his stomach. The blond whimpered weakly intending to turn but his friend dragged him out of his reach.
    When I thought the scare was completely gone a loud scream made me jump in my place.
"What the hell do you think you're doing!"
    I opened my eyes with regret as my mouth closed uneasily. Thirteen was furious. Killing me back. Leaving me more nervous than I already was.
"I don't know," I stuttered. I buffeted, closing my eyes before swallowing hard. "What did you want me to do when I saw I had a screwdriver under my sleeve?" I have acted on impulse, sorry.
    But my attempts to get him to listen to me evaporated as fast as water in the summer. Thirteen remained royal. I knew that deep down it was nothing more than a reprimand for intervening in other people's conversations and also, that I really did not want to behave in this way but I assumed it was due to the constant accumulated tension.
"Damn it, Blair." Hong Kong really isn't a person you can screw with. ”I gasp, forcing myself to calm down before completely losing patience. He slid his palm across her face as he whispered a couple of curses.
"He didn't come to speak and both you and I knew perfectly well. Did you want me to stay on the sidelines when his friend wanted to stab you with that thing? ”I insisted with overwhelming urgency. The sharp point returned to my head causing a terrifying chill.
   Thirteen clicked his tongue and rolled his eyes contemptuously.
"I don't need anyone to defend me," he clarify loudly, rejecting the idea of ​​needing help from someone other than himself.
"Oh, believe me I know." I laughed wryly as I recreated inside my head the memory of him boxing.
"You are too impulsive."
"And you're too dependent." Furious, I let out an agitated sigh. Thirteen raised an eyebrow to declare how unimportant my view of him was. “I know you've probably always solved problems just because you've gotten used to not depending on anyone but this is different. You must tell your friends so that ...
"I'm not going to get you into this," he growled, completely opposing what he had said earlier, drawing out a weary sigh.
"Stop wanting to be alone! Because you don't think of all the people who love you, Lucy, Jimin, Taehyung even though I don't show it very often I think Suga does too. Accepting help from others does not make you a weak person, on the contrary, it only shows that you are strong enough to correct mistakes and find the right solutions”
"And you love me?"
    I was blank for a few seconds when I cut myself off with that question. I blinked uneasily at his direction trying to understand if my ears hadn't really played a shovel at me. Inevitably I began to ask myself, an immediate answer came out, one that, despite being totally confusing, was still secret to me. I mean, yes. I mean, yes. Thirteen mattered to me. He was a good friend and besides, he was always there when he needed it. But...
Those were really the reasons?
"649 report in the direction immediately." When the metallic voice of the intercom broke into gym Thirteen and I turn our eyes to the device hanging on the corner of the wall. Taking advantage of his oversight, I ran away. And I must admit that I felt like a complete coward at the time. But he didn't really blame me, I wasn't ready for that conversation.
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"Hello." I greeted Brian cheerfully as I approached the principal's door. He smiled warmly sending me feelings of security and tenderness. My heart skipped a beat. It had been a few days since I saw him and I must admit that I missed those striking green eyes.
"Hello, Blair," I reply back when I finally get in front of him. Despite his smile and his good demeanor I couldn't ignore the tension that was building up on his shoulders. He turned on his side and opened the door. "Come in, they're waiting for you."
   Slightly tilt your head, getting lost in the situation.
"Who?"
   Brian intended to reply, but his mouth was immediately closed when a tall, stout, and dressed man took up my entire field of vision. She frowned in confusion. I briefly looked at Brain who nodded at me nervously.
"Miss London, have a seat please." The director's sudden voice distracted me for a few seconds. Not knowing how to deal with this situation, I decided to sit down and wait for things to clear up.
"What is all this?" Despite the fact that it was the director who had been in front of me, the question was thrown into the air so that both the man from before and the other, who had just seen when I entered the room more, they will take the initiative to speak. There was a brief pause that further condensed the oxygen in the office. The man in the suit took enough authority to stand next to the principal. The sockets of my eyes almost shot out when I managed to visualize the gold plaque hooked on his belt. However, it was different from the regulation in my country. I was much more confused, and worse still, much more scared.
Did they come to tell me about my father's dirty business?
Did they come to threaten me so that I will plead guilty at trial?
"My name is Kim Hyulin, I'm an inspector for the Seoul Police Station Homicide Squad. We came here because we have to ask you some questions." His foreign accent took me by surprise. The alterations that navigated his pronunciation were very similar to those of Thirteen and his friends. Suddenly Hyulin put her hands on the table. Watch the gesture suspiciously. There was something in its tonality that told me that it had not been entirely clear and that there were things to say. His expression was harsh, he frowns enthusiastically trying to scare me but his attempt was in vain. The unnatural wrinkles on the length of his skin gave him the image of a mature man in his forties. However, the other man dressed in a much cheaper suit was young and it was obvious that he was a novice.
"What kind of questions?"
"Limit yourself to answer and you have not asked," the rookie roared with an air of superiority. The contemptuous tone that I use accompanied by a look full of pride bothers me. He was looking at me like I was some trash he had to deal with.
“Answer what?” I breathes out nervously at her planned circumlocutions.
    Hyulin blew out a breath as her lips parted with a snap. I don't like his accusing look. Nor his ways of analyzing my gestures as if from them he will get the answer he so longed for. I glance quickly at his apprentice, who quickly straightened up. Then he spoke:
"Tell me Miss London, how much do you know about Jeon Jungkook?"
next
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talesfromthesnogbox · 4 years
Text
Stuck Here With you
Rating: M (Rating for explicit conversations about sex) 
Words: 3,586
Summary: Richie and Eddie are stuck quarantining themselves together... what could possibly go wrong? OR based on this tweet: "@cjkasulke: APPARENTLY you have all just been *waiting* for this moment to confess your love to your roommates, so many of you live with people you have been silently in love with for y e a r s"
Notes: This is so stupid. Yes, I wrote a quarantine fic. Yes, this whole thing is a serious matter and I am an adult who's working from home and it all sucks, and there are people dying all over the world, and I do care, but I just thought people needed a little bit of a laugh, ya know? Anyways, this is wildly out of character and not good in general, but drop a comment if you like it, or if you think I'm a horrible person, whateves.
AO3
*~*~*~*~*
Richie woke from his catnap with a startled jump as he heard the front door slam shut.
“Jesus Eds, is it 6:30 already? Did I sleep all day?” He asked with a laugh.
“No asshole, it’s noon.” Eddie slammed his briefcase on the breakfast bar and worked his tie open. “This pandemic bullshit has gotten out of control.”
“Is that why you’re home right now…”
“Yes! Jared that fucking lunatic went off and brought some girl home last weekend and now he’s got a fever, so we were all sent home, and I’m stuck in isolation.”
Eddie was pissed, but Richie could see through his thinly veiled layer of anger; there was fear.
“Oh. Do you hang around Jared a lot at work?”
He sighed. “No, no I don’t, but it’s just a precaution until he can get tested properly.”
“That’s good then, right?”
It was good. After seven full days, Eddie finally emerged from his room with a cheery smile. “Jared’s in the clear, turns out he just picked up some STD, and I get to go back into work tomorrow.” He plopped down on the couch.
“That’s great Eds, but I hate to break it to you…” Richie pointed towards the TV where the headline read “California officially shut down”.
The first few days felt like any weekend would. They had extra groceries delivered, they binged some true crime documentary on Netflix, they had a group Skype session with the Losers, they did pretty much anything that took their minds off the current situation. But then the fifth day hit.
It was only 7am when Richie dragged himself out of bed for a coffee. Sure it was early, and he had nowhere to be, but time meant nothing anymore.
Usually Richie’s clamoring about the kitchen woke Eddie up. The first few nights that Eddie moved in after Derry were rough; turns out, Eddie was a pretty light sleeper, and Richie was loud. But today, there was no Eddie in sight.
He continued on his way, pouring himself a bowl of cereal when he saw it through the window to his backyard… and promptly spilled milk all over the counter.
On the bright side, Richie had found Eddie. The only downfall was he’d found him in a pair of tiny running shorts and a tank top doing squats on his deck.
“Fuck!” Richie swore, grabbing a tea towel to clean up the mess he’d made.
“Richie?” Eddie stopped his squats and ran into the house. “What the fuck happened dickwad?”
“N-nothing, nothing happened, it’s just early and I lost my grip.”
Eddie rolled his eyes.
“So um… what’s happening in the backyard there, Jillian Michaels?” Richie giggled.
“Fuck off. I usually go to the gym before work, but now that the gym’s closed, I had to improvise.”
“Ahh, I see, trying to pick up the new future Mrs. K with…” with thighs I want to wear as earmuffs and that tight ass? He was glad there was an entire counter between them to hide the fact that he was currently at half-mast.
Eddie gave him a strange look and shook his head. “Shut the fuck up. I’m a divorced 40-year-old living with his best friend, I don’t think I’m going to be picking someone up that easily at the gym. Besides, Santa Monica women aren’t really my type…”
“Oh? Well when this is all over, I know a few places we can go pick up chicks. West Hollywood, Beverly Hills, hell even Studio City. Name your type Eds, we’ll find her.”
“Aren’t you gay? How do you know so much about picking up women?”
“Closet case my boy.” Richie winked and took a bite of his cereal. “I’m as good of an actor as I am a comedian.”
“No wonder there were never any articles about how much of a playboy you were then.” Eddie said straight-faced, walking back out to finish his work out.
“Eds gets off a good one!”
*~*~*~*~*
After that eventful morning, Richie tried his hardest to stay in bed until after Eddie’s morning routine was done. One almost-embarrassing situation in his pants was enough to last a lifetime around his best friend of however-many years, he did not need it to escalate from there.
As the days passed on, the two of them found ways to entertain themselves. Eddie took to reading on the deck in the mild April weather, and Richie decided to pick up his guitar again for the first time in years.
He was a little rusty, but after a few hours of practice, it was like riding a bike, and before he knew it, he was back playing the tune he’d spent hours playing as a teenager.
Richie hummed along to the tune of “Eddie My Love” as his fingers formed the familiar chords with ease. He didn’t even realize Eddie walking in from the backyard, a stunned look on his face.
“Rich?” He jumped, startled at the sound of the other man.
“Hey Eds, sorry was I being loud?”
“N-no.” He shook his head. “I didn’t know you played.”
Richie chuckled. “Yeah, I picked it up in high school after Went agreed to teach me a bit. I was in a band in college, but we kinda sucked.”
Eddie scoffed. “You don’t suck, that tune is lovely. What is it?”
Richie’s face felt hot all the sudden. “Uhh, I can’t really remember the name, just something I used to play a bunch. It’s an oldie my mom really liked.”
“Can you teach me?”
His eyes widened. “Y-yeah, here, come sit.” He moved more away from the body and more towards the neck of his acoustic, allowing Eddie to sit nestled between his folded legs. “Okay, um so you hold it like this, and your fingers go here.” Richie curled Eddie’s fingers around the neck of the guitar, placing them in the correct spots on the frets. “So we start with a G chord.” His other arm snaked around Eddie’s shoulder to show him how to strum the chord.
Eddie shivered, completely engulfed by his best friend, noticing for the first time how much he loved his arms being wrapped around him like this.
“Then we move to an E minor.” Richie shifted Eddie’s fingers again and strummed. “Then A minor, and up to D.”
Eddie moved his fingers, pliant beneath Richie’s big hand. His heart beat fast, and he could feel Richie’s breath warm on his shoulder as he played.
For a moment, Eddie could convince himself that Richie felt the same way about him, but only for a moment. They were best friends, and just because Richie was gay, it didn’t mean he was interested in Eddie, no matter how hard he wished that he was. He would never have Richie, but he’d always have this moment.
*~*~*~*~*
“Alright, that’s it. We’re getting drunk.” Richie pulled out a rather large bottle of vodka and a few other spirits. “I’m mixing you up a quarantini.”
“A what now?”
“Quarantini, Eds. We’re getting shitfaced.”
Eddie rolled his eyes. “Rich, there’s no way in hell I’d—” he paused. Maybe this was the perfect way to come on to Richie. Lowered inhibitions were a great excuse to do something potentially stupid, and if it all went sour, he could blame it on the alcohol. “You know what, fuck it. Mix me a quarantini.”
“That’s the spirit!” He mixed the drinks and dragged Eddie over to the couch. “Alright, we’re indulging tonight. I want not a peep from you. I never got to do any of this gay shit before, and now is the perfect excuse to start a new series. We’re watching RuPaul’s Drag Race.”
Eddie nodded his head. “Drag racing, okay cool, I like cars.”
Richie burst out laughing. “No asshole, drag race… like drag queens.” He popped on a random season and hit play.
Four episodes and many quarantinis later, both Eddie and Richie were yelling at the TV.
“How could they send April home, she’s like the hottest one there!” Eddie put his hands up.
“Right? Look at how hot he is ugh I just wanna…” Eddie glanced over at Richie with a smirk. “Shut up.”
“No, no, I see it.” He pulled out his phone, April’s instagram profile already loaded. “The scruff is driving me mental.”
Richie chuckled. “Eds, that sounds kinda gay.”
“Yeah, no shit Sherlock.” Eddie said, face heating up. “Um, surprise?”
“Oh… shit dude, yeah, um, congratulations. Thanks for telling me.” Richie brought his friend into a tight hug, the alcohol running through his system making him feel a little light headed.
“Thanks for being cool about it.” Eddie mumbled, pulling away a bit, but still resting within Richie’s grasp.
“Hey man, I get it… I’m a closet case too.” He laughed.
The two were silent for a moment, content in each other’s grasp, until Eddie couldn’t handle the silence anymore. “Come on, next episode. I hope Laganja gets booted, I can’t stand her.”
Many episodes and quarantinis later, Eddie was fully shitfaced.
“Come on, bedtime for Eds.”
Eddie giggled. “Yeah Rich, take me to bed.” He waggled his eyebrows in a way that made Richie’s heart stutter.
“Alright, alright, that’s enough from you.” Richie deposited Eddie onto the bed, helping him with his shirt, when Eddie pulled him down hard.
“Oops, sorry Rich.” He giggled. “’s not my fault, you’re trying to get me out of my clothessss.”
“You’re wearing jeans, I can’t let you go to bed in jeans Eddie. What kind of asshole wears jeans in quarantine.” Richie giggles, undoing Eddie’s zip and pulling his jeans down his hairless legs. Fuck, his legs are amazing. “Eds, do you wax?” Richie giggled, rubbing a hand up his thigh.
“Pffftt, we’re in isolation shithead, I haven’t been to my wax girl in weeks.”
A jubilant laugh bubbled from Richie’s chest. “Shit, I’ve learned more about you tonight than I have in all the years I’ve known you. You really are a twunk.”
“A what now?”
Richie planted himself down on the bed beside Eddie. “Twunk, hunky twink.”
A look of realization dawned on Eddie. “Ohhhh, that makes a lot of sense. The dude at the checkout told me I was a twunk when I went to buy those underwear without the butt.”
Richie’s brain went blank. “Eddie, do you wear thongs?”
“No asshole, the other thing without the butt. Jock something, I can’t remember.”
“A jockstrap? Eddie are you trying to kill me right now?”
“Shut the fuck up asshole! They’re good for working out in. And they don’t give me lines in my nice suit pants.” Richie was speechless. “So if I’m a twunk, what are you?”
“I—I—I think it’s time for bed.”
“Oh.” Eddie said sounding dejected. “O-or we could just hang out?”
Richie was at an impasse. He knew they were walking a thin line right now, and he shouldn’t stay, but he wanted to see where this would take him, he didn’t want to leave Eddie’s side.
“I think I could hang out for a bit.”
Their “hanging out” didn’t last very long. Within ten minutes, the two men were out cold.
Richie woke up first the next morning and left the soundly sleeping Eddie to go make a pot of coffee. His head was pounding, and as much as he knew the bright sunlight was going to burn his eyes, the fresh air couldn’t hurt.
He’d never been more thankful for his manager who also happened to be a fantastic decorator. The outdoor couch may have seemed stupid to him when he first bought the place, but at times like this, it was a great choice. He could relax, and look out towards the ocean, and forget everything that happened the night before.
That is until Eddie decided to join him.
Richie’s breath left his lungs once he got a good look at his friend. It was like a blast from the past seeing him in a pair of tiny red running shorts, much like those he wore when he was a kid, but now… now they were so much more. Richie’s mouth watered when his eyes caught a good look at how Eddie’s ass filled out the shorts. A large tank top donned his torso, one that Richie had been gifted, and definitely not been too comfortable wearing himself judging by how low cut the arm holes were. He looked hot, not that he wasn’t always attracted to Eddie, but this felt like something had changed, a sexual awakening of sorts, and Richie would never look at his friend the same way.
“Fuck, I don’t think I’ve ever been so hungover.” Eddie complained as he sat beside Richie. “That stupid drink went down like water.”
“Yeah man I hear you, I feel like shit.”
“I had fun though, it’s been a long time since I’ve had that much fun.”
Richie looked over to him. “No regrets about spilling your guts then?”
Eddie winced. “Okay, maybe you didn’t have to hear about what kind of underwear I prefer.”
Richie burst out laughing. “No, I definitely appreciated that tidbit of information, Eds. I’m proud that my twunk theory was right.”
“Fuck you.”
“Fuck me yourself you coward.” Richie mumbled to himself.
“Sorry, what was that?”
“N-nothing.” He said, darting inside. “Going to work on my new show, I’ll see you in a bit.”
Richie had to get out of there. Last night was a lot, sure, but something felt different today. Seeing Eddie in his boxer briefs felt almost safer than whatever the hell he was wearing today. It’s almost like… almost like he’d purposely dressed up for Richie, and it was killing him. He didn’t know how much more he could take before he combusted.
Unfortunately for Richie, this new look seemed to be Eddie’s new uniform. Richie could tell that now Eddie was out to him, he felt more comfortable being himself, but Richie hated every second of it.
He dreaded seeing Eddie in the morning, dreaded knowing what fresh hell lay beyond his bedroom door in the form of a 5’9 firey bundle of sex personified.
Nearly a month into their quarantine, it was finally warm enough for Richie to sit out by the pool. He donned the brightest swim trunks he could find and rubbed his pale skin down with sunscreen, soaking up some vitamin D.
He’d been out there for just under an hour when he heard (and felt) a splash from the pool where Eddie jumped in.
“Okay, I take back everything bad I ever said about you having a pool when the ocean is right there. The pool is definitely more relaxing than the beach.”
Richie giggled. “I told you, asshole.”
“Oh, and I totally figured out what you are now. If I’m a twunk, you’re an otter.”
“A what now?” Richie removed his sunglasses and moved to sit on the edge of the pool.
“An otter.” Eddie rested his elbows on Richie’s thighs as his calves framed his torso. “At least that’s what I think. It’s like a softer bear. You’re not quite as big and not enough hair to be a bear, and you’re still too thin to be a cub, so you’re an otter.”
“I understood exactly none of what you said except for ‘bear’. I met a bear on Grindr just before Derry that made me realize I like being the bigger body in bed.” Richie winked saucily.
“So you’re a top then Trashmouth?”
Richie’s brows rose into his hairline. “I—I—we are not talking about this right now, not when you’re this close to my dick.”
“Oh come on, you used to talk about your dick all the time.”
“Yeah, I was a closeted kid who’s balls hadn’t dropped yet, obviously I wanted to come off as heterosexual as I could.”
Eddie laughed. “Okay, good point.”
The two sat in the same position for a few minutes, exchanging no words between them. It felt intimate, it felt like Eddie was flirting with him, but he’d never been good at picking up signs. Could Eddie want this too?
“I am though.” He said quietly, finally breaking the silence.
“You’re what?”
Richie’s heart thudded in his chest. “A top, I guess. I don’t mind bottoming, I like it, but I guess I just…”
Eddie grinned. “You like being in charge?”
“No, fuck no.” Richie laughed.
“Really? Huh, okay.” Eddie nodded, mostly to himself.
“Hey, what the fuck does that mean?”
“Nothing, nothing at all Tozier.” Eddie pushed off of Richie’s legs and floated on his back towards the inflatable lounger.
*~*~*~*~*
The week that followed was agonizing. All Eddie wore was those stupid shorts and a variation of t-shirt/tank-top/fucking crop top, and it was driving Richie mental. He felt like a teenager again, he’d never had so many hard-ons in one week in his life.
It was only a matter of time before Richie snapped.
Richie was descending the stairs from his room one fateful morning and groaned rather loudly when he saw what was waiting for him.
The shorts seemed shorter, tighter on his ass (damn all those squats he does) and his already short shirt seemed to rise up, showing the lovely dimples on his lower back as he reached for a bowl from a high shelf.
“Hey Rich, can you help me… what’s wrong?”
He huffed out a laugh. “What’s wrong? Are you fucking kidding me?”
“Wh—did I do something?”
Richie stared at Eddie in disbelief. “Did you… did you do someth—the shorts man, what’s with the shorts!”
“The shorts? I always wear the shorts.”
“I fucking know you always wear the shorts, that’s the problem!” Richie’s stomach rolled. He thought he was going to throw up, he’d never been this candid about his feelings in his life.
“You have a problem with the way I dress? Fuck you, dude.”
“Fuck me yourself you coward!”
Both men fell silent. The tension could be cut with a knife, it was so thick between them.
“Richie?”
“Fuck man, I’m sorry I freaked out on you like that, I just don’t know if I can take this anymore. We’ve been cooped up for a month and I swear I’ve done more jacking off in the last month than I ever did as a teenager.” As good as it felt to spill his guts, he definitely thought he was going to pass out any second.
“I—I don’t…”
“The worst part is, it’s not even just that I’m horny. It’s you! Shit man, I’ve been dreaming of you since we were fucking teenagers. And now… now here you are looking like a goddamn… a goddamn what’s the word… a goddamn snack, telling me shit about the sexy underwear you buy, and asking me if I’m a top. Eddie, I don’t know if you’re flirting with me or not, but Jesus fucking Christ, it’s taking every single fiber of my willpower to not rip your clothes off right now.”
Eddie held back a smile. “Wait, I’m sorry, what? You couldn’t tell I was flirting with you? Are you fucking blind? Actually don’t answer that, I know you’re fucking blind.”
Richie was sure he was gonna get a nosebleed any second. “S-so you were flirting with me?”
Eddie laughed out loud. “Yes you idiot! Literally since the moment I got here, I have been flirting with you. You didn’t get the hint that I have feelings for you?”
“What the fuck, no man! Like you said, I’m fucking blind. I thought you were straight until a few weeks ago!”
Eddie moved to lean against the island, closer to Richie. “You dumbass, I tried so hard the night I came out to you, why do you think I told you about what fucking underwear I wear?”
“I don’t know man, I’m not good at this shit.”
“Clearly!”
Richie cast his eyes down. “S-so, so you really like me?”
Eddie reached for his hand and interlaced their fingers. He pulled Richie closer to him, so he was pinned between Richie and the island. “I love you, dickwad.”
Richie huffed out a laugh. “I love you too.” He blinked rapidly, looking up towards the light. “Oh god, why am I crying.”
“Get over here you big baby.” Eddie detangled his fingers from Richie’s and brought his hand up to the other man’s cheek, bringing him in for a kiss. It was sweet, it was chaste, it was everything Richie wanted from Eddie when they were younger.
But he wasn’t a teenager, and he wanted more.
He dove forward, tongue clashing with Eddie’s. It was hot, it was toe curling good. He snaked his other hand down Eddie’s side, curling around his hip and moving to squeeze his ass. Eddie groaned and ground himself into Richie’s thigh.
“Fuck.” Richie said pulling away. “Fuck, how are you so hot? We’re fucking forty man.”
“Me? Dude, look at you. Your arms… your chest…” Eddie snaked his hand under Richie’s shirt, scratching at the smattering of hair on his pecs.
“Jesus man, I’m not gonna last… fuck… bedroom?”
“Bedroom.”
*~*~*~*~*
The two men finally emerged from Richie’s bedroom for dinner later on with kiss bruised lips and satisfaction plastered on their faces.
“Anything good on?” Eddie asked as Richie turned on the TV. “Rich?”
Richie laughed. “You better come see this.”
“QUARANTINE LIFTED” The headline read as news anchors happily recounted the fall in new cases, and the rise in recoveries.
“You’re fucking joking.”
42 notes · View notes
mochifics · 4 years
Text
❝  something special  ❞  |  two.
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•  pairing:  im jaebeom x reader. •  genre:  romance, really slow burn, fluff. •  word count:  3.5k. •  summary:  it’s 2018, and got7′s hard carry 2 has begun filming. the company assigned you to tend to the two eldest members in the group all throughout the season, and you didn’t realize that being around them would be so... difficult.
author’s note:  when i say that this is going to be a reaaaaally slow burn, i meant it LOL. anyway, i hope you enjoy this chapter! if you’d like a reference for how the ride was like you can click here and ride it yourself! happy reading <3
table of contents:  prologue.  |  one.  
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“So, how do I look?”
After mindlessly waiting by the public bathroom (while snacking on popcorn from a Mickey-shaped container hanging around your neck), you were greeted by Jaebeom. He was dressed in his gift shop attire—a classic, grey Disneyland sweatshirt paired with patterned black joggers. Even with the brim of his Mickey embroidered bucket hat hovered over his eyes, it didn’t take away from his confident smile.
“I think it’s nice,” you answered politely, while awkwardly pulling a thumbs up.
It caused him to laugh, and your cheeks warmed up instantly. “It’s not too loud?” He followed up before walking behind you. You were a bit taken aback by his actions, but still allowed for him to shove the uniform he previously wore into your backpack. “You should’ve seen what Mark bought. It’s definitely… a lot to take in.”
Timing couldn’t have been any better, because Mark walked out right after. You were sure Jaebeom was exaggerating to get a reaction, but he was… not wrong. His matching set of Disney characters in bright colors could make him easy to spot, even pitch-black darkness.
“What is this, Fashion Week?” Jaebeom teased the older member, snickering quietly to himself. You were doing your best not to laugh yourself, so you continued to stuff a handful of popcorn into your mouth while you watched their interaction.
“Hey, it was on sale!” Mark protested with a small frown, though joined in on the laughter after. He made his way towards you before putting his old clothes into the backpack as well. “It doesn’t look that bad, right intern?”
“Huh?” you mumbled with your mouth still obviously full. You took a moment to quickly clear your mouth before answering. “No, it looks good, Mr. Tuan.”
“Ah, you’re just being too nice,” Jaebeom playfully rolled his eyes, his hands comfortably settled in his pants’ pockets. “You know, you don’t have to be so formal with us anymore. The cameras are done rolling, it’s just us three.”
“I’m being serious!” you reassured, a small yet panicked smile evident on your lips. You weren’t sure if his words were genuine or some sort of a test—so you decided to stay cautious and play it safe for the time being. After all, you were still technically working for them.
“Alright, alright, let’s stop picking on the intern,” Mark interjected kindly once the laughter’s died down a bit. He managed to already grab the masks that were in the front pouch of your backpack too, so he handed one over to Jaebeom before wearing his own. “Let’s go, we don’t know how long the line’s going to be.”
Disneyland at night had a completely different atmosphere. The concrete pathways were only illuminated by street lights and nearby signs, but having all the brightness also oddly felt… calming. The summer night breeze was comforting too, and the crowds have died down since the morning. You, Jaebeom and Mark began the trek towards the ride that they agreed to go onto, which was located in an area called Mystic Point.
“Are you sure this is the scariest ride here?” Jaebeom asked Mark, who were both walking on each of your sides. No matter how many times you tried to walk a little slower until you were fully behind them to give them space, they always managed to bring you back to them again. According to Mark it felt like they were being stalked, and it felt more comfortable to have you next to them instead.
Mark still had his eyes on his phone’s screen, using his thumb scroll through the article he found on the ‘scariest ride in Hong Kong’s Disneyland’. “That’s what it says,” he shrugged in response. “Apparently it’s like some type of haunted ride.”
“Haunted?” Jaebeom repeated, sounding a little shocked. “Isn’t Disneyland supposed to be for children? Why would they make a ride that’s scary?”
“I don’t know, ask Walt Disney,” Mark retorted as he reached back to give Jaebeom a nudge, causing your eyes to slightly widen. You didn’t think he would do something like that with you there, but you tried your best to refrain from laughing.
There was just something about this whole predicament that felt weird—you felt like you couldn’t be too casual, but you couldn’t be too formal either.
Thankfully Jaebeom responded with a lighthearted laugh.
Silence littered the air for a few minutes, and it wasn’t uncomfortable. You all just wanted to get to the ride as quickly as possible, so that you’re given plenty of time to get on the bus without the rush. Mark had his eyes on the map, Jaebeom was humming to a song, while you were just trying your best to keep up despite your exhaustion.
The walk uphill was a challenge. You didn’t imagine spending the entire day walking so much, but you figured it was a good workout anyway.
Upon finally arriving at the destination, the three of you were left in awe by the sight of the Manor displayed before you. It was this tall, Victorian-looking home illuminated in a cosmic blue light, and it vaguely reminded you of the Haunted Mansion in the other Disney parks.
“Wow,” you heard both Mark and Jaebeom say in unison, clearly enamored by it.
“Do you want me to hold anything for you while you two are on the ride?” you asked, despite having to ruin their small moment. You wanted them to enjoy their free time, but there was still a schedule you needed to follow.
They only responded with a strange expression—almost as if they were confused as to why you had asked something like that in the first place. “What do you mean?” Mark was the first to say something, “You’re coming with us.”
“Me?”
“Yeah, who else would we be talking to?” Jaebeom joked, giving you a light nudge on the arm. The contact alone was enough to make you feel shy for whatever reason, and no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t resist his charm. “You’ve been watching us do things all day, and you haven’t been on a single ride. Come with us.”
“But I really don’t want to come between your free time… I’m fine, seriously! There’s a bench over there that I can sit in and—” your words didn’t seem to matter to them, because before you knew it, you were being gently dragged inside. One of their arms was linked with yours on each side, and they began to walk up the stairs without giving you a heads up.
And you didn’t fight it. Because deep down, you wanted to come along anyway.
There wasn’t much wait time. Which was surprising, considering the crowd the members drew in earlier today. The line was moving fairly fast for a popular ride, and the surroundings made waiting easier and more entertaining. Inside the manor was a well-lit hallway that slightly resembled an underground railroad, matched with green paneled walls and stone flooring. Various photos in golden frames hung together, each with portraits of important marks of history.
“I feel like I’m in a museum,” Mark remarked as the three of you were asked to step in a room with the crowd that was in the queue with you. It was a closed space with brown and golden walls, and a screen placed in front for everyone to see.
The room turned pitch black before anyone could say anything. The screen began to play a video in black and white, which was similar to how those old-timey films were decades ago.
Hello! Could you hear me out there, from the back of the projection room? Oh! Welcome…
You felt a hand wrap around yours, and you froze. It was as if all of the air had been sucked out of you and you found it hard to breathe, because when you turned to see who’d grabbed onto you so suddenly, you could only see Jaebeom’s profile illuminated by the screen’s light. He wore a small, yet genuine smile as his eyes watched the movie projected on the screen. His lips moved and you assumed he was making small commentary of what he was experiencing, but you were too in your head to really decipher what he was saying.
Why does it feel like your heart’s about to jump out of your chest?
It felt like you just faced the hardest three minutes of your life. You tried your hardest to focus on the screen along with the talking monkey animatronic in the bell hopper uniform, and thankfully, it was over before you knew it. Jaebeom’s hand released from yours once the lights turned on, and you caught your breath. Blood continued to pump loudly in your ears while your head stirred, you let Mark and Jaebeom go ahead when the doors finally opened without them noticing.
After weaving through another set of brick pathways and metal fencing, the three of you finally arrived at the actual ride. You were quietly waiting for the green vehicle to park where the three of you stood so you could get in, mainly because you still couldn’t process what happened in that projector room.
Did anyone else see? Should you have just bit the bullet and let go?
“Hey intern,” you heard Mark call, which snapped you out of your trance. You looked, only to see that he and Jaebeom were already settling into the front row of the vehicle. “Don’t back out on us now, we’re already here.”
Hearing that made you relax a bit. “Sorry!” you apologized softly with a bow, then sliding into the back row alone. You pulled the lap bar in front of you and waited for the employee to make sure its in place, your eyes wandering everywhere else but Jaebeom direction.
“That room was kind of scary, wasn’t it?” Jaebeom asked Mark while the employee checked your vehicle’s lap bars. The sound of his chuckle was loud enough for you to hear. “I didn’t know it was going to be dark like that. Sorry if I squeezed your hand too hard.”
“What do you mean?” Mark answered. “I had my hands in my pockets the whole time.”
“What?” Jaebeom said in disbelief. “I could’ve sworn I was holding onto someone’s hand… If it wasn’t you, then who could it…”
Then, he figured it out.
For what was classified as a ‘haunted ride’ it was very… family friendly. In fact, it wasn’t scary at all. The ride basically gave you a tour around the infamous manor, and you watched it come to life. Inanimate objects singing and moving back and forth, dancing tiki statues in a room with lava, the bell hopper monkey getting into different predicaments from time to time—it was still a good ride, nevertheless. You liked it better than the Haunted Mansion back in the American Disney parks, and if you could ride it again, you definitely would.
Though no matter how immersive it felt, it was hard to really enjoy the ride when your mind was riddled with pointless thoughts. They were mainly about the boy who sat right in front of you, and you wondered why it had such a toll on you out of nowhere.
“Can I be honest?” Jaebeom spoke up as the three of you exited the manor. “That ride wasn’t scary at all. It was nice, though. I liked it.”
“Right?” Mark agreed. “I thought the same thing… it was still fun though. What about you, intern? Did you have fun?”
“I thought it was fun,” you answered with a smile. “That part in the end was probably my favorite. I felt like it was raining magic.”
Your words caused for the two to chuckle.
“Where should we go next?” Jaebeom wondered, glancing around the area. The night was coming to an end, and it was almost time to leave. “We probably have time for one more thing before we have to go back.”
Mark was attentively on his phone, as it looked like he was talking to someone through text. You and Jaebeom looked at him expectantly, waiting for some sort of guidance because he was the one who’s been leading you three to begin with.
“Uh…” Mark began, still keeping his eyes on the screen. “Jackson, BamBam and Yugyeom are actually at Tomorrow Land right now, they’re asking if we want to join them in line for Space Mountain. If we run, we might be able to catch them.”
“That sounds fun,” you encouraged. “You should go, it’s a good ride. It’s like the roller coaster you rode on with everyone else, but inside.” Maybe this way, you could go back on the bus early and take that nap you’ve been dreaming of.
Silence simmered between everyone for a moment, since the decision was ultimately up to Jaebeom. You were confident that in the end he would join the others though, considering the fact that he wanted to ride a thrill-seeking ride to begin with.
But boy, you were wrong.
“You can go, Mark. I’m kind of tired.”
Just when you thought things couldn’t get more awkward between you and Jaebeom, here you were. The two of you were standing idly on the side of the pathway, glancing at each other from time to time like you’re waiting for someone to say something… anything. You didn’t imagine you’d be stuck with him for the remainder of the evening, but you promised management you’d them back on the bus safely and on time.
“Are you hungry, Mr. Im?” the words were finally coaxed out of you, though, it was more of a way to break the awkward silence. Your grip on your popcorn container was a little stronger than usual, as your knuckles turned pale.
“I kind of am, actually,” he responded with that warm smile, softly patting his stomach. The answer was just enough to have you quietly sigh in relief. “Let’s go look for a stand that sells those churros. I saw someone eating one on our way over here, and I couldn’t stop thinking about it afterwards.”
You and Jaebeom then went on a small quest to look for a nearby churro stand. You two were directing each other with really no sense of where everything really was (all because Mark was the one who knew where to go), but you were making it work. Besides, with the map not having special points for churro stands, the two of you had to rely on memory. And even then, it was a challenge.
It took you two a while, but the mission was completed. Jaebeom secured his two churros, and you got a refill on your popcorn by a stand located in Main Street. The two of you decided to sit in a nearby bench, which was the best call on Jaebeom’s part, considering the fact that you were beginning to lose feeling on your feet. It didn’t really hit how exhausted you were until the moment you took a seat let your legs rest.
At least your surroundings were nice. Main Street always looked beautiful at night, with its stores perfectly illuminating the streets. Not too far away too, you had the perfect view of the castle. If you waited long enough, this would be the perfect spot to watch the fireworks show.
“Listen… About what happened in that projector room…” Jaebeom brought up amidst the silence, clearing his throat.
That alone already made you tense up, because you weren’t sure what was going to happen. “It’s fine! You didn’t know it was me, and I totally understand Mr. Im.”
He made a face after, one that’s filled with concern. “Are you sure it didn’t make you feel uncomfortable? Because I just grabbed your hand out of nowhere, and it was really stupid of me to not check who it was before… holding it for so long.”
Hearing him say it that way caused for your cheeks to burn. It suddenly brought you back, remembering the way his hand felt around yours. How you it made your heart stop for a second for whatever reason, and looking at him made it all the more overwhelming.
You tried to snap out of it multiple times though, and you responded kindly with a soft smile. “Trust me, it’s fine. Anyone would’ve been lucky to hold hands with GOT7’s very own Im Jaebeom. Even if it was on accident.”
The two of you spent the remaining time you had comfortably. You continued to stay stationed in that bench, sharing a conversation that mainly involved Jaebeom asking questions to get to know you better. Where you were from, how you got the job, your interests, some of your favorites, etcetera. You didn’t realize how kind and genuine he was until now, because he really paid attention to what you had to say. It was nice.
“Okay, be honest with me,” His body sank lower onto the bench, hands properly folded over his lap after throwing away his leftover churro wrappers. His eyes were intently staring at the starry sky, though his attention was on you. “What did you think about us before meeting us? And I’ll know when you’re lying, so answer truthfully.”
“Um…” you took some time to really think about the answer, because you could say something that may potentially offend him. Fingertips drumming against the plastic popcorn container, you pressed your lips in thought. “To be honest, I thought you all were going to be intimidating. I mean, no offense, it’s just that I don’t know any of you personally. So, I assumed you all weren’t going to like me from the start.”
“Intimidating? Really? None of us look intimidating—maybe Mark or Jinyoung might be an exception, but the rest of us… we’re like the total opposite,” he laughed. “Besides, we like you already. Jackson’s been talking about inviting you to our outings when we’re not shooting.”
“I didn’t know I became the eighth member of GOT7,” you quipped, which made you softly giggle. Your eyes were on the stars too, while your arms tightly clung onto the popcorn container. “I can’t sing, dance, or rap, so I might just be in the back doing nothing.”
“No… you’ll definitely be our visual,” he said with a satisfied nod. “It only makes sense.”
Your eyes rolled playfully as a ‘tsk’ sound left your tongue. “You’re joking.”
“I’m serious,” he fought back with a grin. “Your face is nice to look at.”
The fireworks show happened not too long after. It was as if timing couldn’t have done any better, because they did an amazing job in masking the way your heart pounded. You let out a deep sigh when Jaebeom’s attention fell onto the colorful patterns lighting the night sky. So, you decided to sit back and watch quietly too.
You didn’t know how, but the two of you have gotten closer throughout the show. Up to the point where your shoulders softly met, but neither of you decided to say a word or pull back. Instead, you enjoyed each other’s comfort as the fireworks were displayed above the tower, even if it was for a little while.
Youngjae and Jinyoung were the first to arrive at the bus. You and Jaebeom spotted their heads leaning against the window, which had you two laughing. Jaebeom tried to wave right in front of them for their attention, but they were far too out of it to even notice. Which was understandable, considering the fact that they did have a long day today.
BamBam, Yugyeom, Jackson and Mark arrived not too long after. They were all happily walking towards you two, all carrying bags with souvenirs, mouths yapping on and on about what they did. You also wanted to make sure all seven of the members were in the bus before going inside yourself, so you patiently waited on the side of the door.
“Man, that ride was…” BamBam began as he made his way into the entrance of the vehicle, “EASYYYYY!” he was joined at the last word by Yugyeom after. You laughed, louder than intended, and they all joined in with you.
“Was it better than the roller coaster we went on?” Jaebeom asked as he stood right across from you, the members all hopping in between your bodies.
“The outdoor one was better, it had more surprises,” Jackson was the one to answer, as he was the last (aside from Jaebeom) to hop on. He briefly looked at you with a friendly smile, giving your shoulder a small pat before entering. Jaebeom then soon followed. “What about you? How was it when Mark left?”
“It was nice,” he took a moment to glance back at you, then looking back ahead to sit with the rest of the members. “It felt like a date.”
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yunhostinyuyu · 3 years
Text
broken and fixed - part 03
pairing: roommate!doyoung vs friend!taeil x original female character (ft. haechan & taeyong)
genre: roommate!au, work!au, social media!au-ish, fluff, angst, eventual smut
wc: 2.1k
synopsis: kang haneul is desperately looking for a way out of her home. as one of her best friends suggests a friend who is currently looking for a new roommate, a new and better chapter in her life begins. or so she thought...
warning: suggestive, mentions of abuse, panic attack, weed (for medical reasons)
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“How many more boxes do you have? I don’t recall you having this much stuff! And why again is everything so heavy?” Donghyuck complained as he lifted another one of Haneul’s moving boxes. Drops of sweat already rolling from his forehead down to his cheekbones. “Quit whining big baby and get to work!” Mina scolded the younger boy as she grabbed a smaller box.
“We’re almost done...” Haneul explained as she kicked the door to her new room open and scanned all the labelled boxes with her belongings. She quietly counted as the three of them put thier boxes down, but can’t get rid of the feeling that she forgot something. “So these are the last ones.” Mina said and rubbed her red hands together. But as Hanuel looked around, she finally notices what’s missing.
“Wait, where’s my keyboard?”
“You didn’t bring it? Because I don’t remember loading it into my car...” Donghyuck commented. Haneul now remembers at how the piano is still at her parents home. She forgot to pack it because it was stored away on top of her wardrobe.
“Fuck!” she exclaimed loudly at the realisation, “I gotta go back to get it, I forgot... Fucking Shit!” she deeply growled. “I’d say that’s typical for you but I think you already know that.” Hyuck said, but was hit by a halfhearted slap from Haneul. He apologized “I’m sorry, I will go back with you to pick it up. Let’s go...”
“No, I can handle it. I still have my keys so I can just slip through for a minute and sneak out again. I’ll be fine, you guys should start getting ready for later.” Hanuel told her friends. Mina’s phone rang and she got startled as she saw the caller ID , “It’s my sister, I gotta run! But see you later!”. She placed a quick kiss on Haneul’s cheek and a slap on Donghyuck’s shoulder before she accepted the call. “Oww! She always does that!” He complained at Mina’s attack as she ran out the door. Right as the front door shut close, Doyoung’s head peeked out of the shared living room. That’s the second time he checked in on Haneul’s moving activities that day, earlier offering his help and letting them know he has friends over. So in case they are being to loud, he said she shouldn’t shy away from telling them to ‘tone it down’, as Doyoung put it into words.
“Everything okay?” He asked, a little concerned. He probably heard the cursing and Mina’s not-so-silent foot steps as she stormed out just a second ago. Hyuck shakes his head and she follows along, linking her hands behind her back in an effort to stretch them, as they stood in the hallways right out of Haneul’s doorframe.
“Yes! Don’t worry Hyung, we are about done.” Hyuck said first. “I’ll have to drop off one more thing in about twenty minutes and then I’m finished.” Haneul added and plastered a smile across her face.
“Yeah, no worries. Just wanted to check in.” Doyoung answered and already turned on his heel to open the living room door once again. As the door was wide open however, Hyuck spotted two new figures in the room and was quick to recognise one of them:
“Hey! Taeyong!” Oh oh. That name rang a bell in Haneul’s mind. Is he that ex of his sister? The one who’s room she is moving into right now? The look on her face froze, but only until they heard the slim figure yell back.
“Is that Donghyuck? What are you of all people doing here?” The boy walked out of the living room into the hallway and towards the younger boy. He was really skinny had had distinctive facial features, topped with platinum white hair, which was pushed back, with some strands of hair hanging out loosely.
“Oh just spending my precious time helping my friend...” Hyuck said, smiling, while fist bumping him. Taeyong quickly turned to face her and offered a handshake. “It’s nice to meet you! I’m Taeyong, Youngies former roommate.” The new face introduced himself, and Haneul shook his hand firmly.
“Nice to meet you too, I’m the new roommate of Doyoung, but you probably knew that.” She said, but then spotted another new face enter and slip past Doyoung, who was trying his hardest to hide his discomfort about this friends meeting Haneul. But he couldn’t do anything about it now. The nameless guy was shorter than the other two, but not by much. He had a round face with very plump lips and eyes she could loose herself in if she wasn’t careful, sparkling brightly. He was fast to stand next to his bright haired friend, his own brown, short locks looking awfully fluffy.
“We knew that, but we don’t know what your name is, beautiful? I’m Taeil.”
So now, when she first met Doyoung, she thought he was really attractive, but with the flirty boy who was now right in front of her, she had to correct her previous thought. His gaze almost made her drool. Thankfully, she could contain herself enough to shake his hand aswell and give him a genuine smile. “I’m Haneul” was all she could say before Donghyuck interrupted.
“Why don’t you guys join us later? Well be heading to a few bars downtown.” he suggested and Doyoung immidiatly cut right through.
“Maybe another time, but thanks for the offer.” the black haired man said and disappeared back into the living room now, hoping his friends would do the same. The both shoot a certain look to each other, thanked for the invitation and left to join Doyoung in the living room and went back to whatever it is they have been doing before. “Suit yourselves.” Hyuck dismissed the topic.
Haneul took her bag from her room and left together with Donghyuck. Her hands started to get clammy from the thought of having to go ‘home’ for one more time. Already running through all the worst case scenarios as she unlocked her car, which was parked right across Donghyuck’s. “Hey,” he spoke softly and she turned around to face her best friend again. He was just standing there with his arms spread out, offering a big hug. This was so rare coming from him, but nonetheless she put her arms around his back and let herself be pulled into his warm and cuddly embrace.
“I’m proud of you, Noona.” He whispered after a few seconds. “Don’t get all sappy now! Thank you Hyuckie, and I’ll see you later, yeah? Gotta make sure you look good so you get layed.” she joked when she pulled away from the younger man. Even if the older one enjoyed moments like these, she can’t handle them without getting either sarcastic or defensive.
“What do you mean? I always look good?”
“I will see you later! Bye now or I won’t make it in time” she swiftly dismissed his accusation and entered her car.
Nervosity starting to run through her veins as she got closer and closer to her parents home. Maybe she should have asked Hyuck or Mina to go with her, but now it’s too late. She didn’t talk with her parents about her plans to move out. To be honest, she didn’t talk with them at all, unless she was subject to her mother’s hits and unfiltered, rude words targeted at thier only daughter. The chance that they have caught up on what has happened already are pretty slim, since she wasn’t home all day and, obviously, all of her stuff is gone. Memories of the last incident with her crossed her mind again, and she really tried her hardest to keep that thought out of her mind. Focused on the street, the memories still stayed there and didn’t want to budge only an inch, which really made the young girl ache.
On the doorstep, her shaking hands tried to unlock the door as quiet as possible. The door opened itself slowly, and she stayed silent to listen for any sign of her parents. But no - there was only silence and everything was dark. The rooms she was living in all her life until now looked strange. They felt foreign, even if today was only the first day she officially moved out. It felt foreign, and it left a bitter taste in Haneul’s mouth.
Taking a chance, she dashed into her old bedroom, where her piano keyboard was stored. She hurriedly pulled it out from above her old wardrobe, balancing it as good as she could and put it into its cover. Without another thought she held it tightly against her chest and ran back out of the door. Everything happened in the span of only a minute, because Haneul was scared and the adrenaline made her act quicker than usual. But she was quick enough, and put the keyboard carefully in the trunk of her car.
„So that‘s it?“
Haneul froze, still facing the trunk of her car before slowly turning around to look at the source of the voice.
„What does it matter to you?“ she spat, quite surprised she managed not to break down right then and there.
„You‘re my daughter, a quick goodbye wouldn’t have hurt, huh? Tell me, who are you running away with?“ it‘s quite ironic, because it would infact have hurt.
„None of your fucking business. I‘m off now.“ Haneul spoke with as much force as possible, slamming the trunk shut and slowly walking around the car to get in the driverseat.
Her mother just scoffed. „Your attitude will never change, you stupid whore. Don‘t show your disgusting face around here ever again.“
Haneul swallowed hard, hand around the car door handle, but not get pushing it.
„Don‘t worry, you won‘t.“
And with that she drove away, back to her new home. Not having to deal with this mess ever again.
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„Is she single? Do you know anything about that?“ Taeil asked, as the three freinds sat back down on the couch, curious about the new girl he had just layed his eyes on.
Doyoung didn’t answer, he only rolled his eyes as he stared back on his phone screen. Scanning Haneul‘s Instagram profile again and again in search of anything new, something she didn’t tell him or he didn’t find out about.
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She was so interesting to him, but he would never admit it.
„Doyoung?“ Taeyong nudged his friend to pull him out of his thoughts, quickly shutting his phone.
„What? I‘m not helping Taeil, he can figure that out on his own.“ he huffed, clearly annoyed. Even if they were his best friends, they all had thier needs. And normally would help each other out to get what they desired, as in helping each other to get layed. But he really didn’t want them to be involved with his new roommate out of all people.
„Why are you so sour about this? I wouldn’t fuck her here if that’s what you’re so worried about.“
„No, because you won’t be fucking her at all. She‘s my roommate, there’s no need to involve her in anything just because you can’t keep it in your pants for once! There‘s plenty of fish in the sea.“ Doyoung answered and was met with an intense stare of his older friend.
„These are bold words coming from you.“ Taeil said, softly. „Somethings bothering you, and I don’t think it has to do with Haneul.“
„Ah, I don’t know, I‘m just... tired?“ the slim man uttered as he rubbed his temples with his and squeezed his eyes shut. Normally he would hit himself for saying stupid a things like ‘there are plenty of fish in the sea’, because he really didn’t think so. He only said it to distract himself from former memories. And that could also be the reason he’s constantly looking at Haneuls Social Media. To distract himself from the bitterness.
„Come on, we‘ll get something in your system.“
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