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#and then many many hours later you’re like ‘I might have overdone it’
kidovna · 7 months
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ineffable smooches for the soul <3
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wardenparker · 4 months
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Vampire Waltz - ch 13
Max Phillips x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst
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A mysterious inheritance, sprawling mansion, eccentric roommates, friendly bat, and coven of New England witches are the newest chapter of your life after being unceremoniously dumped and kicked out by your boyfriend. For Max, the biggest change in his life is you, and what exactly he's going to do about the fact that he is stuck living with you as long as his sire continues to punish him for that incident at his last office...
Rating: E for Explicit! 18+ Word Count: 7.7k Warnings: *Blanket warnings for this series: deceased parents, cursing, food, blood and blood drinking, depictions and references to abusive relationships. Anxiety and trauma responses. Self-worth issues.* References to past sexual encounters, a dash of angst, light gambling (friendly wager on cards), Reference to the Civil War, family drama/angst, brief mentions of blood drinking, tooth rotting fluff. Summary: Off on an adventure to Gilded Age New York City, the train ride has as much excitement in store as you could possibly have expected from the entire trip. Notes: A short but emotionally impactful chapter this week, my loves! Please enjoy a glimpse at a Pullman sleeper car. They're honestly pretty beautiful and comfy and I'd love to travel in one 💚
Ch 1 ~ Ch 2 ~ Ch 3 ~ Ch 4 ~ Ch 5 ~ Ch 6 ~ Ch 7 ~ Ch 8 ~ Ch 9 ~ Ch 10 ~ Ch 11 ~ Ch 12
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Your breath is even, making your chest rise and fall slowly against his cool body. Wrapping around him as if you are afraid he would leave this bed while you rest. Even in sleep, your blissful sighs are soft and content, worn out by the endless hours Max had wrung orgasm after orgasm out of you. Learning your limits and everything that you like and dislike when a man has his tongue buried in your warmth. His own smirk is self-satisfied and slightly smug from the number of times you had called out to the gods because of the pleasure.
Hours later, after sleeping the morning and even some of the afternoon away and having an afternoon tea that is the equivalent of a Gilded Age light lunch, Mr. Taylor is loading your trunks onto the carriage that Emmanuel has arrived in to take you all to the train station. While your mother is saying a very sweet goodbye to her own mother, you and Max are standing just at the doorstep with Yayo.
“When you return we will discuss your intent to return home,” he tells you quietly, keeping his choice of words intentionally enigmatic. “For now, enjoy yourselves. I understand the Vanderbilts have offered you their guest rooms so you do not have to stay anywhere as impersonal as a hotel?”
Max smirks slightly and nods. “We have accepted the gracious invitation and will be a sterling example of the Brown name.” While Max is not using the same last name, he understands that his sire has vouched for him and any scandal would fall back on his reputation.
“Enjoy yourselves.” What Yayo has not told you is that he had given Max something of an allowance to be used while you are in New York, making sure that the group of you will be able to dine, shop, and travel as you see fit for your five-day trip. You’re even taking Renee with you, as you and Annie will doubtlessly need the help dressing for your many outings and dinners, and it would put a strain on the Vanderbilt’s staff if they had to supply two young ladies with a suitable maid for almost a week. Emmanuel’s valet has been instructed that he will also be dressing Max during the trip. It’s all…extraordinarily overdone, in your opinion. But as vacations go? It might be the single most luxurious one you’ll ever take in your life. So you intend to enjoy it.
“We intend to.” You assure your grandfather after he shakes Max’s hand and places a very paternal kiss on your cheek. “Thank you. I know this means the world to Annie.”
Max watches the exchange between you and your grandfather with soft affection. The knowing glint in the elder vampire’s eyes was telling and he had been subtly warned to take care of both you and your mother while off on this trip.
“And be sure to call on the Astors just to be polite.” He urges. The Astors and Roosevelts had been welcoming to you at the ball after finding out that you and Max were considered family.
“We’re having dinner there on Wednesday.” Getting that invitation had been thrilling as all hell. Just about as thrilling as when Max came to you seconds later to excitedly tell you that the Vanderbilts had offered you lodging. Max had been very popular last night.
“Very well.” Max’s sire nods seriously and glances at your soulmate. “We will see you when you return.”
Still in an extremely good mood from last night and from this morning, you lend your grandfather a smile before stepping away from the door to get into the carriage. "Enjoy having some peace and quiet."
Cookie slides up to her soulmate’s side and wraps her arm through his with a sly smirk. “We will.” She promises as she winks at you.
The carriage is large enough for the four of you to pile into, and the clear sky of the day means that Renee and Emmanuel's valet happily sit with the driver. The chilly October day is still sunny this afternoon and by the time you reach the train station and are loaded on board, the pinks and purples of sunset streak the sky through the windows of the Pullman car to light up the green and bronze colored interior brilliantly.
“This is niiiiiice.” Max knows none of the others will get the reference, but you will understand the tone as he examines the interior of the carriage with great enthusiasm.
Barely managing not to snort when you laugh, you have to cover your face and clear your throat to get your composure back when Emmanuel looks at you both quizzically. “It is exceptionally luxurious. And very kind of you to share your car with us.”
“This could feel like the elegant parlor in a home.” Max offers, reaching out and touching the pillow that it sitting in a cushioned chair.
“We have teased my mother that she spent more time styling the family’s car than she did choosing names for us all,” Emmanuel jokes, looking around the space with pride. “It is rather splendid though, is it not?”
“I think you could comfortably live in something like this.” Max is fully aware of the future, but it’s still a nice thought. Traveling by rail and touring the country is far more romantic than driving in an RV.
“Perhaps we should.” A squeeze of his hand makes him more than aware that you’re teasing, but you still wink playfully. “Travel the country in a Pullman car to decide where to live? It sounds positively luxurious.”
Max arches a brow at Emmanuel teasingly. “Happy wife, happy life, that’s my motto. Sounds like I might be ordering one from you. What all can go into one?”
The look of delight on Emmanuel’s face is like Christmas two months early, and you can’t help but laugh to yourself as your mother’s soulmate embarks on an obviously passionate listing of all the perks and practical benefits of long-term train travel in these cars specifically. “I think he enjoys talking about his family’s business,” you observe to Annie wryly.
“He is very proud of it.” She murmurs back, pride on her own face as she watches the two of them discuss business. “His dream to is run the company one day after his grandfather passes.”
“I’m sure they will be very proud to have him take over.” Knowing that the man will not survive that long makes you swallow your regret, but there is nothing you can do about it. History cannot be changed. If you interfere to spare your mother’s heartbreak, you will literally never be born.
"With the right woman by his side." She giggles quietly and bites her lip as she nearly vibrates with excitement. Emmanuel had asked to speak to her father just this morning and she's sure that a proposal is coming.
“Give him time.” Not having vampiric hearing, you’re unaware of what happened downstairs this afternoon while you were getting dressed to leave Newport. “Do not be disappointed if he takes a little time.”
"He spoke with father." She leans into whisper in confidence, breaking out into a large, happy grin. "I have a feeling that we will be engaged by the Astor's ball!"
“That will be quite the souvenir to return home with from the city.” It would be a wonderful thing for her right now, obviously, but you dread the idea that she might take your new found friendship so straight forwardly and do something like ask you to be in her wedding party. Something you would have to say no to.
"I think I might die!" She giggles dramatically and collapses against your arm. "He is just so perfect. And I've decided that I will ask him about his scars tonight."
“Then we might have a very eventful trip indeed.” She’s so happy and it’s intense and infectious and so very sweet — you can’t help but hug her as she stands beside you. “I would ask if you are excited to see the Vanderbilts again but I think you must have spent a lot of time with them.”
"Despite my father thinking little of their plans to tear down the cottages and build a bigger home, he quite likes them." She shrugs. "They have been very kind, especially when in social gatherings."
“With six children, I can only think the house must be very crowded.” There were so many times as a child that you had wished for that many siblings, but as an adult the idea of giving birth to six kids makes you want to carry a bottle of Advil out of fear.
"I cannot even imagine." Annie shakes her head and bites her lip. "I don't think I would want that many children myself."
“Neither do I.” Ah. Interesting to know after the fact that you were an only child because your mother very reasonably didn’t want to put her body through that. That sounds very much like your pragmatic mother.
"Although, mother assures me that father has the most delightful pain tonic to help with the pains." She sighs softly. "I was never lonely like some expected me to be as an only child."
“Then you were very lucky.” Before you can say more, which is probably for the best, the conductor comes around to ask the four of you to settle in for the beginning of the journey. There is a table and set of four chairs in the center of the car for you to sit together, and Emmanuel reaches into his pocket to pull out a deck of cards. “Shall we amuse ourselves before dinner?” He offers, putting the deck on the table before holding Annie’s chair out for her to sit comfortably
"Absolutely." Max has learned how gentleman play cards in this time and finds it fascinating.
"Shall I pour you ladies a sherry to enjoy?" Emmanuel asks, motioning to a bar cart set up in one corner.
“If we could have tea?” Annie quickly asks the gentleman before he leaves your car all together. He nods politely and exits. “I…have noticed that your wife does not often partake, Mr. Philips. I would not wish my dear friend to feel left alone.”
“It is true, my wife does not enjoy the taste of alcohol.” Max agrees. “It is not a bad thing, I find that the taste is rather bitter myself and dinners are far more reasonable with tea than a bottle of wine.”
“Then we will all have tea.” Emmanuel offers, once Max has you settled at the table. With the four of you sitting it’s a very happy atmosphere and Emmanuel begins to shuffle the deck.
Max shoots you a grin as he leans back and watches Emmanuel. “Aficionado, hmmmm? We’ll see. Perhaps we might have to make a wager if you are as good as you imagine you are.”
“How much?” The other man chuckles, feeling lively at the proposition.
“How about a nickel a hand?” Max asks, raising a brow playfully. When he had been a broke college kid, it had been quarter poker, but five cents is particularly generous in this time.
“That’s a very friendly wager, Max.” It makes the other man laugh again, and he nods. From the depths of his coin purse he is sure to unearth as many rounds’ worth of nickels as ever he should need. “A nickel a hand it is.”
Max grins and pulls out some bills to exchange for the nickels and divides them but between all of you.
"I'm afraid I'm not much of a card player, but I'm happy to try." Modern poker, or Go Fish, or even a game of hearts on your laptop while you were in college was all fairly standard. But bridge has proven difficult for you to pick up, if a few nights of sitting at the card table with you mother and grandmother are anything to go by.
“Don’t worry.” Max reaches out and pats your hand. “Why don’t we keep the rules simple?”
"Just regular poker will do." Annie's grin is mischievous and instantly you're back at the dining room table with your parents on Sunday afternoons while they played cards and you did homework or colored or read a book. It seemed to be the only time you weren't twirling around the house like a sugared up cyclone.
He arches a brow at your mother and grins. “Regular poker it is.” Emmanuel laughs as he starts to dole out the cards to everyone. “Aces high, Jokers bust.”
It might be the most relaxed and most pleasant way to pass an evening that you’ve had in ages. No television to sit around, not all of you sitting individually on your phones. Just a card game and a pot of tea and friends. Although, it is particularly entertaining to watch Max realize that your mother is an exceptional poker player, which is definitely not what he had anticipated.
“Renee had a sweetheart in the war twenty years ago,” Annie explains through giggles at the table after she wins yet another hand. “He taught her the game after they played it at their camps so often, and she taught me.”
“Really?” Max has always been interested in the other vampire, wanting to know her story, but she’s surprisingly closed mouthed. “They must have had fun playing cards.”
“It was about one of the only fun things they did have.” Annie agrees, swallowing a sigh. “He was a part of a medical unit. The poor man survived the entire war and then succumbed to a fever barely a year after the surrender at Appomattox Courthouse. She accepted being turned rather than continue to suffer, but her sweetheart refused.”
“That’s sad.” Max frowns slightly, not even able to imagine the loss of her lover. “Was he her soulmate? Or first love?”
“Renee’s soulmate was her sister.” Pausing at the appearance of the night’s second tea tray, Annie thanks the steward who brings it in and waits for them to leave before continuing. “He was her first love. But her family didn’t approve. She left home to be with him and still lost him, poor thing.”
“Her sister?” Max tilts his head curiously, knowing about platonic soulmates but he’s never heard of siblings who are soulmates. “Twins?”
“Indeed.” Annie nods, moving to pour tea out for everyone but you beat her to it. “It seems there was some sort of rivalry between her family and his, and except for her sister, they couldn’t see to forgive her for choosing him. They still exchange letters, but the post takes time.”
“Did her twin also become a vampire?” His eyes cut over to Emmanuel but the other man just looks up from his cards curiously. The subject of the undead obviously not phasing him at all.
“Martha wasn’t hit with the same fever that took Johnson and almost took Renee. She’s still back in West Virginia with their family.” Annie stops long enough to thank you for her cup, and fixes Emmanuel’s for him at the table. “They’re God-fearing people, Max. Renee still hasn’t told her sister how she survived the fever. She’s afraid Martha will cut her out, too.”
“No doubt, it would be better if a visit didn’t occur.” Max snorts, still bitter at the lack of relationship with his own parents.
“They would likely notice that she has not aged in twenty years.” This time Annie shakes her head, sipping her own tea to steady herself. “I am sure you know, but most vampires are forced to cut ties with their mortal families at one point or another.”
“Lucky for me, I cut ties before then.” Max huffs with a sardonic grin.
“And know you have a whole other family.” It’s very clear that Emmanuel sees only the silver lining as he sits back and smiles. “And it grows beautifully. Your sire, his family, and now your wife.”
“My wife is worth everything.” Max isn’t just playing to his audience, he means it. Taking your hand that isn’t wrapped around your card and kissing it softly.
While the ring is burning a hole in Emmanuel’s pocket, this is not the right time. He has already planned out when and where to ask Annie to be his bride, and a train car is not at all grand enough for such an important question. “You are very lucky to have found each other,” he observes instead. “To find one’s soulmate is a genuine blessing.”
“Yes.” Max winks at you and then glances at where Annie is fidgeting slightly, looking worried and eager all at the same time. “What about you, Mannie?” He asks, leaning back. “What kind of marks have you made to lead your soulmate to you?”
“Wherever she is, she has remained a mystery to me.” Which is a terrible disappointment, if he’s honest. He had always dreamed of something dramatic and romantic like seeing a shared mark on a lady’s arm at a ball. Since meeting Annie Brown, though, he has been glad that that never happened. The love he feels for her is far too deep to deny. “I have no marks from my soulmate. Only somewhere in the world, she wears the scar on her leg from when I fell off my horse as a boy.”
Max can feel the way Annie’s heart nearly leaps in her chest and your own hand squeezes his tightly. “Interesting. Which leg? I have to say that I am unfortunate enough that I don’t have scars either. Different circumstances, of course.”
“Of course.” Emmanuel chuckles lightly, not thinking anything of it. “It is my left leg. A rather unsightly mark, too. I ought to apologize to the lady for bestowing it on her if I ever were to meet her.” There is a deeply felt — a dearest hope — in his heart that it could be Annie. But he has been too afraid to ask and be disappointed.
She inhales sharply, eyes wide and hopeful and her cards are all but abandoned in her hand. “I am sure it’s not too bad.” She volunteers. “Just a mark slightly larger than the palm of my hand?”
“With a…” He swallows thickly, and suddenly Emmanuel cannot look away from the woman beside him for anything in the world. “A curve on one end…like the top of a cane…how could you…?”
Nodding almost frantically, Annie leans in and drops the cards to grab her beau’s hand. “Please tell me that this is the mark you are describing?” She begs. “Please tell me you are my soulmate.”
“It cannot be.” He has never thought that he could be this lucky. That the woman he had fallen in love with so quickly has found it in her heart to love him back is one thing. For her to truly be the other half of his soul is something truly remarkable. “Are we really to be twice blessed?” He clutches her hands tightly, knowing that to ask to see her bare leg is entirely out of the question but knowing that she recognizes his mark means the world.
Max smirks and looks over at you as you watch your mother look like the sun is shining just for her. “Should be in one of those romance books, hmmm?”
“We should give them some space.” If you don’t, there’s a chance that you might not be able to contain yourself, and that you might give something away by shedding tears instead of being happy for Annie. Watching your mother discover her soulmate is a gut punch that you hadn’t quite expected.
“Come.” Max senses how emotional you are and stands. “Shall we see our sleeping berth?”
You nod, trying your best to keep yourself composed while he helps you up and leads you to the two single-side beds on the far end of the car. Pullman cars aren’t equipped with doubles for married couples, but you’ll barely be a foot apart.
“Interesting sleeping arrangements.” Max ticks a brow up before he turns to you. “Are you alright, Queenie?” He asks, rubbing your arms gently. He knows this is a shock for you.
“I didn’t expect to be here for the reveal,” you admit, tucking into his side and letting yourself drop down onto one of the mattresses indiscriminately. “I’m okay. It’s a lot, though.”
“It’s okay to like Emmanuel.” He reminds you softly, dropping down beside you. “I hate that I would have loved to have him for the dreaded F. I. L.”
“He’s such a nice man.” A few tears break free as you bury your face in Max’s side. “And he makes her so happy.”
“And your father made her happy for the rest of her life.” Max wraps his arms around you and lets you cry. There’s no reason to chide you for it, considering that he feels emotional about it all too.
“I just wish there was a way for her to have it all,” you admit quietly. “Her soulmate, her second love, and her family. Everything that made her happy.”
“She gets to have you again.” Max comforts you softly. “Even if she doesn’t know that she should, she loves you. Just as you are.”
“I’m glad she doesn’t know everything that’s happened.” Knowing that Max will understand why, the best thing to do right now is just to stifle your tears with a handkerchief and try to recompose yourself. “And I’m glad that abuela doesn’t either.”
“I hate that we can’t tell them.” Max admits softly. “Let them change it.”
“I wouldn’t ever be born.” That is enough of a deterrent to keep you in line, but it still hurts your heart. “Or if I would be, I would be a different version of myself.”
“I love you, just as you are,” Max promises softly. “But if you could have not had the heartbreak, it would have been better for you.”
“It would have been better for you, too, love.” If you could have spared Max from suffering in any way you would have, but you squeeze his hands tightly and place a kiss on the corner of his mouth. “But I love you, too. Just as you are.”
The skipping beat of his heart is fleeting and he turns his head to kiss you again, addicted to the sensation. “Too bad kissing other places doesn’t have the same effect.” He murmurs with a teasing grin.
"I was kind of hoping it would," you admit, cheeks immediately burning hot with the reminder of this morning. "It certainly makes my heart beat faster, though."
“I know.” Max leers and his tongue swipes over his lips in satisfaction. “I felt it. Every stuttering, skipping pulse as it throbbed through your sweet little pussy.”
"Max!" You may be on the other side of the train car, but there is still a chance that Annie and Emmanuel might hear him if they ever come up from the way their heads are bowed at the card table.
“What?” He huffs, grinning broadly at your embarrassment. “We’re married.”
"Yeah..." Huffing right back at him, you glance over at the other couple seriously. "And my virgin mother is in the same room," you remind him as quietly as possible.
“She might not be by the time this train goes home.” Max reminds you. “Not the way those two smell right now.”
"Oh gods, I did not need to know that." You poke his side and all but shudder. "I know it's a hundred years too early but she's still...her."
“Mommy had to have some sex.” He teases softly. “She had you. And she’s really old to have been a hundred-year-old virgin.”
“It’s just not something I’ve ever thought about.” There was no need for you to. Not up to age eighteen. And then your parents became frozen in time in your mind’s eye. “You’re right, it’s just never something I’ve spent time on.”
“One day, our kids will have the same revelation.” Max hums. “Unless we are just freely sexual around them and they groan and roll their eyes, talking about horrible their parents are.”
“I know what Yayo said, but I’m trying not to get too excited about the idea of kids,” you admit, eyes dropping from his to your hands in his lap. “Just in case.”
“I know.” Max’s grin drops into a more serious expression and he covers your warm hands with a cool one. “If we don’t, we don’t. It’s not the end of the world. We’ll adopt a little shit and spoil them rotten if you want.”
“You’ve never mentioned having any vampiric children.” And you’ve never asked, so it’s not entirely on him. “I take it I’m not a stepmother?”
“I’ve—”Max frowns and blows out a useless sigh. “All but one was destroyed when— when I was.” He admits quietly. “But I don’t look at them like kids. Or I didn’t.” He snorts. “He’s in California for some fucking reason.”
“You have a son?” He may not look at his vampiric offspring as a child but you certainly do, and your eyes widen immediately. “I don’t even know where to start. I—tell me everything.”
“Okay….” He snorts and shakes his head. “It’s not a very long story, but I’ll tell you.”
“Short stories can still be interesting,” you remind him, finding yourself aghast that he just hadn’t mentioned it.
He shuffles slightly, embarrassed by his past behavior. “The guy who ruined my life? I got a job for the company he worked for.”
“Right.” Trying to conjure up every detail of information he has given you about that situation, you nod along with his explanation. “The telesales company.”
“Yep. I sold myself to management, using the vampirism as a business model. Convinced them sales would increase if they had a workforce of the undead. The company was going under and they were desperate for any Hail Mary.”
“So you…sired people at the office?” It seems more than slightly outrageous, but companies have surely done crazier things out of desperation.
“Yeah.” He huffs quietly. “I wanted to prove there was a better way, better reason to be a vampire.” He huffs. “And get revenge on that little annoying fucker.”
“So one of them is still alive?” The term makes you cringe, though, and you slump apologetically. “So to speak.”
“One, yeah.” He frowns slightly, bothered by all the people destroyed because of his selfishness more than he realizes. Maybe that was why he never truly fought against his punishment as he thought of his confinement to the Newport house. He felt as if he deserved much worse. Realizing now that you were all your grandfather had actually cared about.
“Hey.” One hand flat on his chest brings his attention back to you and you tilt your head at him quizzically. “What just happened in there?”
“Huh? What do you mean?” Max snaps back to you and bites his lip.
“You disappeared into your own head.” Unconsciously mirroring him, you bite your lip too. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to pry. I already pried.”
“No.” The best way to make Max open up is for you to blame yourself for something, even something small. “I just— I realized how many people died because of me.” He admits, wondering if that would change how you feel about him.
“You’re literally a different person than you were then.” You remind him gently. “And you’re living a completely different…afterlife.”
“Still…..” max closes his eyes. “It was seventy-three people.”
“Which is why you drink from donors now and make business deals in ink instead.” It isn’t much comfort, but at least you can show Max that he’s changed. He’s become a better man since his afterlife got upended. “Speaking of which…” You take his hand in yours and squeeze gently. “You haven’t had any blood since we got here.”
“I know.” Max doesn’t want to admit that he’s starting to feel thirsty. “I’m alright.”
“You won’t be in another day or two.” And since the middle of that hunger and thirst will come during a trip away from the steady donor so helpfully supplied by your grandfather — under circumstances you absolutely don’t want to know about — you squeeze his hand again. “But I’m not going to let you go thirsty. I promise.”
Max shakes his head. “No, I’ll— I don’t want you to do something you aren’t comfortable with.” You had shown you were squeamish about it and Max has not brought it up again. You had flinched once when he was going down on you and that was enough to cross it off the list of things he would do with you.
“I’m more comfortable with you drinking from me than I am with the thought of you sharing something so intimate with a complete stranger,” you admit. “You said yourself how deeply the connection can be felt.”
“You flinched.” He reminds you softly, telling himself it’s ridiculous to be hurt by that when it’s a normal reaction to fangs.
“Because I was afraid it might hurt.” The sheepishness — the embarrassment — in your quiet confession is very clear, and your eyes drop down to your hands again because your fear hurt him and you don’t deserve to look him in the eyes. “Not because I don’t want to take care of you.”
“It doesn’t matter if you think you should.” Max sighs. “I don’t want you to ever do something you don’t want with me. If you’re afraid it will hurt, I won’t do it.”
“Max…” You hadn’t expected him to protest, honestly thinking he would been overjoyed at the offer. It just goes to show that you’re not quite as adjusted to this relationship as you thought you were. You had expected him to just take without any thought, but that isn’t Max. Or, at least, that isn’t Max anymore. “Will you at least consider it?”
“If you want me to.” He doubts he would, but your brow is knitted with worry and he hates that.
“I want you to. To consider it and to do it. But not until you’re ready.” And part of That sense to be showing him that you aren’t afraid anymore, so you will do everything you can.
“I love you, Dolly.” Max whispers, offering you his hand. “I just don’t want to fuck up and hurt you.”
“I’d rather have a little bit of hurt from a bite than be hurt because I’ve lost you,” you tell him honestly. Him not feeding is not an option, just like it’s not an option for you not to eat, either.
“You aren’t going to lose me.” Max promises. “If I had to eat someone, I would, just to stay with you.”
"You don't have to, though." Looking back up at him, your gaze is surprisingly steady. "And I can stay with you forever, too."
“Mrs. Phillips, are you proposing to me?” He’s grinning, but he sounds scandalized. “How terribly modern of you.”
“I suppose I am, in a way.” It wasn’t what you had meant to do — not strictly speaking — but at the heart of it is the same conversation. That you want to be with him. Just him. For as long as you possibly can.
“Makes sense.” Max tells you. “Since we are married.” He looks at you softly and reaches into his pocket. “You want to be with me? Forever?”
“I really do.” The certainty is extraordinary. Something you never truly thought would ever happen. It here you are, with his hand in yours, and you know in your heart that you will do anything in your power to stay with him.
Max decides that it might not be the most glamorous thing, but he slides off the bed and kneels down in front of you. “Dolly, Queenie, my soulmate…” He starts, his cockiness fading and there’s a naked, earnest expression in his eyes. “I never thought I would be able to have you. You are perfect, better than I ever dreamed and I am not even worthy of you, but for some reason, you want me.” He takes a small, leather box out of his pocket. “Will you roam the earth with me and experience eternity together?”
“Oh gods…” If someone had asked you the least likely things to happen to you in the entire world, this would have been on the list. Your soulmate, a happy relationship, engagement and marriage — all of these things. They were put on a shelf out a reach and you didn’t ever think your arm would stretch that far for the rest of your life. But here in this train car it’s Max that you reach for, tearing up and giggling softly and feeling your whole self light up brightly with “Yes!”
It’s pure relief that has Max grinning, thankful and happy that someone finally put him first. Someone, the most important someone, believed him — believed in him. “I want— here.” The normal suaveness completely leaves your soulmate and he opens the ring box nervously. Hoping you like your ring.
“Get up here,” you insist, pulling him up to sit next to you on the bed so you can kiss him before anything else happens. The little leather box holds a sparkling diamond set in gold and that is wonderful, but what you want more than ever is to hold onto this feeling of sweet, deep, honest love that’s pounding in your chest.
Like all the kisses before, Max feels his heart move and he knows that is because you love him, not because of the soulmate connection. He cups your face tenderly as he pours himself into the kiss, not putting on a facade for you, just being greedy for your affection.
In this moment it’s all you can do to be mildly cognizant of the fact that your mother is in the room, and even if she doesn’t know she’s your mother it’s still another two people who probably just heard you squeal at Max’s arms wrapping right around you. Thankfully the soft moan he drew out of you just seconds later was soft. Only for his ears.
You’re his. The realization makes his heart thump even more with your lips against his and he groans into your mouth. The scent of you utterly intoxicating and he will be able to have it forever.
It’s so easy to get caught up in him. Caught up in the way that you can always tell when he’s being playful, or teasing, or his most honest self with you just from the way he kisses you. His armor has been tossed by the wayside and all that is left for you to see is his whole heart — which is a privilege you never intend to squander. It’s only the sound of a throat clearing that brings you out of the moment, as Emmanuel glances across the train car with reddened cheeks.
“Oh.” Max is almost disappointed by the interruption, but he grins over at the other man. “I apologize. It’s wonderful kissing your soulmate, isn’t it?” He asks knowingly.
“Wonderful.” Emmanuel agrees immediately, knowing that you and Max are aware that he and Annie have shared more than dances. “We ought to celebrate.”
“Yes we should!” Max immediately agrees, popping up and reaching over and shaking the man’s hand. “How about I make the best hot chocolate you’ve ever had?” He knows the bar cart would have chocolate for the ladies and it will let everyone have something special without popping a bottle of champagne.
“Trust me. Say yes.” You assure them both when Annie looks to you curiously. You had mentioned this quirk of your husband’s before and it had intrigued her.
“Yes.” Annie agrees with authority, laughing all the while. She feels positively light as air and doesn’t want to waste a single moment of this joy.
“I’ll be back in a flash.” Max winks and shoots past all of you fast enough to make yours and Annie’s skirts sway.
“Forgive me.” You smooth your hands over her skirt before getting up and coming back over to the card table. “I seem to have gotten carried away.”
“You are married.” Annie scoffs, waving away your apologies. “I hope that I do not have a dull marriage. I want my husband, my soulmate, to wish to kiss me every chance he gets.” The eyes she makes at Emmanuel are not subtle.
“And I am sure he will. After you are married.” It’s obviously not something you care about — Twenty-first century dating being far different from nineteenth century courting — but you have to pretend. To act like a lady of this time and place. “If your parents found out that you anticipated your vows when I was supposed to be here to stop you, they would never trust us all out together again.”
Annie snorts and rolls her eyes. “I very seriously doubt my parents will mind. You are here to be a show of propriety, as well as dear friends.”
"My only thought is to make sure you are taken care of." Her hand finds yours as you reach across the table, and for a moment you just smile at each other. Just a small moment of sharing in each other's happiness means so much, and you end up shrugging as if you are dramatically giving in. When in fact you have no intention of intruding on whatever historically happened between your mother and her soulmate the first time around. "I'm glad that you're happy. Both of you."
“Thank you.” Annie tugs you close and pulls you in for a tight hug. “You have been such a dear friend so quickly. It feels as though we have always known each other.”
"Like family," you hum, holding yourself to just a smile and making sure your perceptive mother can't see past the necessary lies that have been told.
“Exactly like family.” She beams, happy you seem as like minded as she. “Perhaps we will be one day.” She muses. “Our children could marry.”
"Anything is possible." Is the enigmatic answer you go with, knowing full well that that particular scenario is not in the cards. But that's no reason to ruin your mother's joy. "Sometimes family can be the people you choose, too. Not only marriage and blood."
“Yes….blood.” Annie sighs slightly and then looks towards the soulmate she had just discovered. “My parents will be thrilled, absolutely thrilled.”
"Don't let anything steal your joy right now," you squeeze her fingers again before sitting back, hearing the sounds of someone walking toward the car and hoping that it's Max. "Not anything at all."
“Who is ready for the richest hot chocolate they have ever tasted?” Max asks as the door opens and a large tray is filled with a set of cups.
"I'm intrigued," Emmanuel laughs, watching your very proud soulmate come back inside with his tray. "Where did you learn such a particular skill?"
How does he explain baristas? Max grins. “My nanny taught me.” He decides. “She would make the most marvelous hot chocolate and I always wanted it, so she insisted I learn.”
“How marvelous.” Annie perks up enthusiastically and takes a deep breath, inhaling the scent of the thick, creamy drink. “Oh, it smells divine!” It is an indulgence to be sure, but that is only because of her own mother’s sensibilities. Chocolate is a treat, not to be overindulged in.
Smiling, Max looks like the pet student who is being recognized for their efforts. The fact that he is a praise seeker isn’t new, but this time, having the approval of your mother is rewarding. Even if she doesn’t know about the familial connection.
You already know it’s going to be amazing, but watching your mother and Emmanuel take their first sips and then light up like kids in a literal candy store is amazing. “Your nanny must have been a witch,” Annie declares, sighing openly at the divine taste. “Because this is obviously magic of the most wonderful sort.”
“She must have been.” Max winks at you and leans in to press a kiss to the corner of your mouth. “My wife married me for the recipe, but I have not given it to her yet.” He jokes. “She might run away.”
“Even if I had the recipe, I don’t think I could make it as well as you.” Your first sip comes with a hum on contentment. The chocolate in this time has less sugar, making it taste deeper and richer than when he would make it at home. “Part of the recipe must be love.”
“You know it is.” He hums indulgently and bats his eyes at you playfully. “Only the best for my love.”
The extremely unladylike snort from you causes laughter all around the table. This atmosphere of playfulness so far has been pervasive, like a wonderful warm hug. Right now you want nothing more than for that to last. To last for however long it is that you’ll be stuck in the past — because as much fun as you’re having? You do have to go home.
******
Even though there are two beds provided for you and Max, as any upper class Gilded Age couple would expect, there is only a curtain to give you privacy for the night. So when you crawl into the same bed together in your chemise and Max’s silk pajamas — apparently brand new and all the rage in America — you almost feel scandalous about it. Maybe that’s coming from the fact that you’re all but certain Annie and Emmanuel have crawled in together on the other side of the car, but you’re telling yourself that that’s none of your business. For now, all your focus belongs to Max…and the glittering ring on your finger as it catches the moonlight coming in the open window.
“Do you like it?” He whispers softly. He had worried because modern rings are larger, more simplistic, but he had hoped you would like the elaborate filigree and design on the ring.
“It’s gorgeous.” Tucking yourself closer in his arms, you tip your head back to kiss him. “I love it. How did you even manage to go find one?”
“Your grandfather took me to his jeweler.” He hums, proud of the fact that you like it.
“Conspiring with my Yayo, I’m very impressed.” It doesn’t actually surprise you at all, but you’re glad that they’re getting along in this time as well as in your own. Max’s own family predicament makes you so grateful that your grandparents have welcomed him with open arms. “It’s perfect, baby. I—thank you.”
“You don’t need to thank me.” His body slots against yours perfectly and he pulls you closer. “I know that we aren’t actually….you know.” He lowers his voice so only you can hear. “But I wanted you to have a piece of this time when we go back.”
“Can you imagine?” A little giggle escapes you and you muffle it against his chest. “If I actually manage to get us home again and we just roll up into the house legally married for 138 years?”
He snorts, grinning into the darkness as he ignores the sounds coming from the next bed. It’s too quiet for you to hear, so he pretends he doesn’t either. “Not like we wouldn’t be married for 138 more after we get back.”
“And maybe more.” Who knows what will happen? You’re certainly not going to claim to be an expert on how the world works. Not after discovering that time travel is real.
“Maybe more.” Max nuzzles his nose against your cheek and smiles. “Are you having a good time with your mother, Dolly?”
“I am. I know it’s not the same but it’s so nice to just see her face and hear her voice again.” And if you could do the same for Max, you would do it in a heartbeat.
“I know, Dolly.” Max sighs sadly. “I wish I could have met your version of her.”
“She’s still her. Just less…Mom.” That doesn’t make any sense but you can’t articulate it any better so you shrug. “Though I guess I understand now why she always talked about going to the opera when she was little. That’s what people do in this time.”
“And you are going to get to experience that with her. In this time.” He reminds you, having already been informed that tickets will be waiting.
“If you get bored then just slip out of the box and go smoke cigars with Vanderbilt or something.” For all you know Max hates the opera. It hadn’t exactly been a point of debate when the Vanderbilts had announced their intention to takes you along to the brand new Metropolitan Opera House with them. “I won’t be offended, I swear.”
“No, I doubt I would be bored.” Max shakes his head. “It will be a fine study if the aristocracy in New York.”
“This is like the weirdest vacation in the world.” You snort at yourself slightly. At the odd memory that just popped into your head. “It’s Where in Time is Carmen Sandiago? the real game.”
“Now starring…Dolly.” He intones dramatically, like he’s an announcer. He grins in the darkness when you giggle.
“That will be your career if I can’t get us back,” you tease, light and laughing softly in the night instead of scared or worried. Somehow he makes you so sure that things will work out that you are able to breathe freely in moments like these. “A vaudeville announcer. And then we’ll get you into radio afterward.”
Max snorts softly. “Wouldn’t that be a hell of a note? Live a life back in time and reappear in our own timeline like nothing ever happened?”
“It’s all going to depend on how long it takes me to learn how to get us home,” you remind him gently. The fact is, this could be a very real problem to have, but at the moment it doesn’t seem like the worst sort of very real problem.
“Doesn’t matter how long it takes, my love.” He whispers, rubbing your back soothingly. “We have eternity and as long as I have you, I can live wherever, or whenever, we are.”
______
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comfortwriting · 3 years
Text
Best Friends Boyfriend - G.W
Masterlist, Requesting Rules, Writing Prompts
Part 2 of my slow burn mini-series, inspired by and dedicated to @amourtentiaa , want to be tagged? Let me know!
This chapter is inspired by @amourtentiaa ‘s Owlery which you can learn more about and access here.
Please read Part 1 if you haven't already!
George Weasley x Fem Reader slow burn 
Warnings: Fluff.
You couldn’t get last night out of your head, the sound of George whispering to you, asking you out on a date, how his beautiful face looked from the amber tones coming from the flames that radiated against his face, the way he smiled and licked his lips.
Laying in bed wide awake you kept your hand over your mouth, trying to hold in your giggles so you wouldn’t wake up Hermione and your other dorm mates. You couldn’t believe it - you’re going on a date, with George Weasley, the lad you fancy more than anyone else in the world - the only problem, your best friend, George’s younger brother, Ron, wouldn’t approve and would do anything to make sure the two of you keep well away from one another.
Throughout the whole day, you played it cool when passing George in the common room or the great hall, but as the day moved on and afternoon turned into evening, you couldn’t stop the giggles of excitement from bursting out, and the tint of pink to spread across your cheeks.
You had two hours until you were meeting George, for now, you sat in the common room with Ron and Hermione whilst Harry had Occlumency lessons with Snape.
“What d’you keep giggling about?” Ron hissed at you, scowling “you’ve been at it all day and you’re freaking me out.”
You covered your face with your hands, taking a deep breath and trying to calm the bubbling of nerves and excitement.
“N-Nothing” you replied, “I think I inhaled a dodgy potion somebody was brewing in the second-floor toilets this morning” you lied, avoiding eye contact with your best friend and his crush, Hermione.
Ron gave you an odd look and flashed his eyes to Hermione, who glared at him and shrugged her shoulders.
“Shouldn’t you go to Madame Pomfrey?” she suggested, knitting another hat for the house-elves.
Nodding your head, you got out of your chair and pursed your lips, “yeah, I think I will” you lied again “let me go and get freshened up, she might want to keep me in overnight if the giggles get worse” you smirked, chuckling.
Leaving your friends behind, you hurried off to your dorm room, getting your makeup, clothes, and shoes ready to put on after your shower, placing your clothes and makeup bag on the bed, kicking your shoes on the floor beside it.
“I dunno what's up with her” Ron huffed, slouching in his chair beside the fire.
Hermione continued knitting “Well, hopefully, Madame Pomfrey can sort her out, uncontrollable giggling can get you sent to St. Mungo’s.”
Ron focused on the bobble hat coming together in front of his eyes, trying to make sense of your behaviour today and if there was something else going on after his brother played Hero during the end of your horrific date.
Wearing your best black denim front pocket Pinafore dress over your red and yellow striped turtleneck and black tights, you stared at yourself in the mirror, blushing slightly at the thought of George seeing you dolled up just for him. You pouted, deep in thought and unsure of what hairstyle to do, checking the time you were cutting it close and decided your go-to natural, no school but not overdoing it hairstyle would be best.
“Tomorrow night, where we first met” you reminded yourself, hearing George’s voice inside your head.
Thinking long and hard about when you first met George and where, you closed your eyes and tried to focus, all of your memories whizzing around in your head - you couldn’t help but feel your heart flutter knowing that not only did George remember, but he also perhaps thought of that day often.
Hurrying out of your dorm and back into the common room, Harry now sat down with Hermione and Ron, they all seemed taken aback by your appearance, furrowing their brows at you.
“You’re a bit dressed up for a doctors appointment, aren’t you?” Hermione called out.
Ron looked at you from head to toe “I think you’ve overdone it, mate-”
“See you later!” you giggled, a spring in your step as you left the common room, going through the portrait hole.
Ron, Harry, and Hermione exchanged looks, none of them knowing what to think or say was becoming a reoccurring factor today.
“Something isn’t right at all” Ron muttered “she’s up to something”
Reaching the owlery, you felt your excitement and nervousness compete against one another inside of you, being a few minutes early, you had enough time to admire all of the owls around you who were getting ready to go out hunting. Each of them unique and calming to look at, stroke, and hear a hoot. The memories finally coming back to you more clearly.
Your first week at Hogwarts went more awful than you ever imagined, you had got lost on the way to your classes, got into trouble by Percy - your houses Prefect and due to your terrible potion skills Snape put you in a weeks detention, your parents were so angry you received a Howler before anyone else in your class.
Feeling lost, alone, and in need of a friend, you wrote out your worries, concerns and everything else you were feelings into letters, addressed to your friends attending other Wizarding Schools (like Ilvermorny) across the globe.
Writing about your feelings, life, and anything, in general, helped to make you feel better, heard, and less isolated from the impressive and promising classmates that surrounded you.
Walking up the long and steep steps up to the Owlery, your heart melted at the Owls, some sleeping, some bobbing their heads around, and others appearing to be smiling at you. You felt connected to them in some sort of way, and spending time with them, knowing they didn’t care about your house, or how well you could make a feather float in the air made you feel more at ease.
You stared and smiled at your Tawny owl named Penny, you approached her trying to avoid the owl droppings and rat carcasses and stroked her softly, handing her your letters.
“Please deliver these safely,” you told her, tears filling your eyes again “it’s taken a lot for me to write them”
Penny accepted the letters and understood how important this job was, and how much it would mean to you, she pecked at your cheek, little kisses against your tears before she flapped her gorgeous wings and took flight.
Not wanting to go back down to your Herbology class to be a laughing stock, you stayed in the owlery, falling to the floor and weeping.
“If these reports get sent home mum will kill us” once voice spoke out, panting up the stairs.
“Well” replied a similar voice, also panting “we need to change our grades and get one of these owls to send it to her for us, it's why I made a fake replica”
Their voices and footsteps came closer.
“As long as Errol and Hermes aren’t delivering it, we’ll be fine Georgie.”
Two tall twins with ginger hair walked into the Owlery shiftily, both of them stopping in their tracks, noticing you crying on the floor, drowning in your robes.
George’s face and heart softened, he mouthed to his brother ‘leave it with me, I’ll get it sent, let me see why she’s upset’
Freddie nodded and slowly left the Owlery, trying not to make a sound.
You missed Penny with all your heart, after many trips she became so sick and injured no magic, and no amount of Hagrid’s care and love was enough to fix her wings and bring her back to life. When you lost Penny, you lost part of yourself, the Owlery wasn’t the same without her and each time you visited, you would break down into tears.
“You made it, early” George called out, pulling you out of your trip down memory lane, causing you to jump slightly.
You blinked back the forming tears and turned around to face him, the moonlight illuminating his best features through the open arches. “Didn’t want to be late” you replied, smiling nervously, stroking one of the owls.
“You were so little” George chuckled “but even after growing up so much somethings never change”
You cocked up an eyebrow and smirked, slightly confused “what do you mean?”
“The owls” he replied “your love for them, the time you make for them, it’s beautiful”
You could feel your cheeks heating up, your heart rate elevating.
“They’re special to me” you replied, trying not to come across as too shy.
George blushed too, his cheeks mirroring yours as he stepped closer, so close you could count each individual freckle across his face - something you had only done from across the halls or over the table.
“that’s why I asked for us to meet here,” George said softly, stepping closer to you, his breath brushing against you “because you’re special to me”
George took hold of your hand, tracing stars into your palm with his thumb, his eyes taking in your hair, your makeup, your outfit, and shoes. He started to lean in, as did you, your soft lips brushing against his cinnamon scented ones, but pulled away before you could share a kiss, smirking and winking at you.
“I’ve got a surprise for you,” he said nervously “I’ve been trying to give her to you for a while now, but whenever I’ve tried, Ron always got in the way”
You rolled your eyes “he always does” you replied “he doesn’t like the idea of us being together” you frowned, looking away from George and lowering your head, deciding to examine your shoes.
George lifted your chin up with his thumb, smiling at you “he doesn’t have to know” he paused “stay very quiet and follow me” he whispered, still holding your hand.
George walked you over to a very tired looking owl, her wings and body covering something small underneath her. George whispered to the owl “It’s George, she’s ready now”
The tired owl opened her googly eyes, staring at George, slowly and reluctantly moving away from her precious possession underneath her motherly wings. Underneath the wings lay a tiny owlet, its large magnificent eyes opening wide and staring at George, then you.
“I know he’ll never replace Penny” George murmured, wrapping his arm around you “but I want you to have a safe space here, I know how much of that Penny provided for you and I know how much of that changed when she passed away.”
You reached out your hand to stroke the baby, “it’s okay” you reassured his nervous mother “I’m not going to hurt him”
You ran the back of your finger down the Owlets fluffy back, its face showing signs of enjoyment and comfort, something rare amongst owls.
George watched in awe, the memories of you when you were much shorter and quieter flashing before him, now you were a beautiful young woman, with the same heart full of love and nurturing.
Tears of happiness streamed down your cheeks, you leaned into George and cuddled him, your face pressed against his chest, the scent of the burrow engulfing you.
“George - I - thank you, he’s beautiful”
George closed his eyes, taking in your face against his chest, his hand stroking your hair.
“I care for you, Y/N” he spoke out again “I know we were never that close, but you’re not just my little brother's friend to me”
You pulled yourself off his chest, looking up into his gorgeous eyes.
“like these owls, you’re unique, you’re special” he whispered.
“What’s your obsession with these owls anyway?” the tall boy asked, fiddling with his fake report.
“They’re unique” you replied quietly, walking around “they’re special”
George looked down into your eyes, his nose poking yours softly, leaning in, you didn’t pull back and allowed him to pull you gently into him.
His heart and yours racing, as your hand rested upon his chest, and his arm around your waist, your lips grazing against each other, turning into a deep, soft kiss.
Tag list: @amourtentiaa @reeophidian @inglourious-imagines @slutforsebstan @alwaysnforeverfangirl @horrorxweasley @xmalfoyweasleyx @freddiemylovelg 
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cuddlepilefics · 3 years
Text
Motion Sickness
Fandom: Stray Kids
Sickie: Jeongin
Caregivers: Stray Kids
Prompt @sicktember
No one's POV.:
Stray Kids had just finished a photoshoot, which had lasted most of their day. Not having eaten at all that day for the fear of looking bloated, they were understandably hungry. The drive back to their dorm would take another three hours, so none of them felt like having dinner at home and decided they'd stop for food somewhere close by before heading home. Checking google maps, Hyunjin found a cozy looking diner not too far away, which looked pretty promising. It certainly didn't disappoint, the atmosphere being calm and since there weren't many customers there, they could have some privacy. They went all out, ordering different dishes to treat themselves after going hungry for so long. Having fun with his friends, Jeongin didn't pay much attention to what he ate. He tried most of his hyungs' dishes too and soon found himself more than full. Maybe he had overdone it a little but he hadn't eaten all day, so it shouldn't be too big of a deal. At least they didn't have anymore schedule for the day and only had to get back to the dorm. Filing into the car, the maknae sat in the backrow, squeezed between Minho and Seungmin. Before they knew it, they were off on their way back to the dorm with the mood still light as the trio in the backrow teased each other as well as the rest of their friends. Chan only rolled his eyes, realizing that it had been a bad idea to let the three most savage members sit together for a drive this long.
It was only half an hour into the drive though, when Jeongin started to grow quiet. He was sweating a lot as the interior of the car felt overly stuffy. Thinking the air conditioning might have been turned off, he asked: "Am I the only one who feels really hot and uncomfortable?" Worried, Chan glanced into the rear mirror and frowned: "The aircon is running on the highest setting, it's pretty chilly, at least in the front." – "Back here too", Minho agreed, when Chan turned his eyes back on the road. "You okay, Innie?", the dancer asked quieter, only for his dongsaeng to hear. The maknae nodded and when Minho touched his forehead, he didn't have a fever, so the topic was dropped soon. While the group slowly forgot about their youngest's discomfort, Jeongin felt progressively worse. His stomach had started to churn and his shirt clung to his back from how much he was sweating. When Seungmin rested his head on the boy's shoulder, Jeongin moved away a bit and shook his head. He was too hot to be touched right now. By now, the maknae was certain that he was getting carsick. It hadn't happened to him in a long time, so he hadn't expected it to happen today but considering how much he had eaten before they got into the car, it did make sense. Closing his eyes and taking deep breaths through his nose, all Jeongin could think of was: 'I shouldn't have eaten before riding this long.'
Seungmin was starting to catch on too, the younger's pale complexion was a dead give-away. His suspicions were confirmed when Jeongin spoke up ten minutes later: "Chan-hyung, could you roll the windows down? I feel a bit sick." The maknae hated speaking up about not feeling well, so Chan knew he had to feel more than a bit sick. The leader rolled the windows down and glanced back at his dongsaeng. "Do you need me to pull over?", he asked worriedly, afraid their youngest was downplaying his struggles as always. Jeongin shook his head and closed his eyes again, while Seungmin placed a comforting hand on his knee. Hoping he'd be able to go to sleep, the maknae rested his head on his youngest hyung's shoulder. He tried his hardest to relax, sneaking a hand under his shirt to palm his unsettled stomach. His attempts were futile though, napping becoming impossible as he felt queasier by the second. His mouth was already watering but he was determined not to get sick in front of all of his hyungs. Hearing the youngest groan as he moved his head from Seungmin's shoulder to Minho's in an attempt to get comfortable, Chan glanced back and asked worriedly: "How ya holding up, Innie?" – "I'm starting to feel pretty sick back here", Jeongin admitted shakily. He swallowed a few times to get his stomach to stay down but was also sweating more and more. At this point, he was getting more certain that he'd have to be sick sometime. "There won't be another rest stop for the next thirty kilometers but I'll pull-over as soon as possible to give you a break, yeah?", Chan promised. Nodding with his eyes closed, Jeongin prayed that he'd last that long.
Two minutes later, he knew that he wouldn't last that long. Sitting up straight, he asked shakily: "D-Do you have a bag or something? I-I think I'm going to be sick." Chan hurriedly reached over to open the glove box. "There must be a plastic bag in there", the leader stated, focusing back on the road to let Changbin, who was riding shot-gun, retrieve the bag. It was quickly passed through to the back row, where Jeongin sat with both of his hands clamped over his mouth, taking labored breaths while Seungmin rubbed his back comfortingly. Minho opened the bag in front of his dongsaeng just in time for the maknae to gag into his hands. He had his eyes closed, so the dancer gently pulled at his wrist to move his hands out of the way. Opening his eyes and spotting the bag, Jeongin clutched it and brought it up to his face before pitching forward with a productive retch. "Aww maknae", Minho cooed, steadying the boy's shoulders, while Seungmin rubbed his back. The youngest let out a hoarse whine before throwing up again, the bag growing heavier in his hands. Coughing, he realized he really shouldn't have eaten this much. How was he supposed to stop now that it had started? The car took a sharp turn, knocking Jeongin sideways, and the youngest was glad his hyung kept him steady as he choked up another wave of his dinner. Catching a short break, the maknae sat up and wiped away the tears that dotted his lashes from the strain. Hyunjin turned around in his middle-row seat, handing the youngest an uncapped water bottle but Jeongin urgently shook his head and buried it back in the plastic bag, heaving. The weight of the bag only made him more aware of the amount he had already brought up. Why did he have to overdo it that much?
Jeongin didn't even notice how Chan had pulled into a rest-stop and brought the car to a halt. The members hurried to get out to clear the way for the three in the back row. Seungmin got out first, while Minho continued to comfort the maknae, whispering: "We stopped, do you want to get some fresh air? Maybe standing on solid ground for a few minutes will help." Jeongin nodded and allowed Seungmin to take the bag from him, so Minho could help him out of the car. His head spun dizzily and he had to rely on his hyung to keep him on his feet. The dancer wrapped an arm around his shoulders and led him to a trashcan close by. "Do you feel like you're done?", he asked quietly. Jeongin shook his head, a wet burp escaping him before be bent over the trashcan as more sick spilled from his lips. "Wow, you really ate a lot, hm?", Chan cooed, impressed by the amount his dongsaeng was still bringing up. The oldest took over from Minho and gently patted the maknae's back as he coughed. Swaying dangerously, Jeongin clutched the Aussie's hand to steady himself. He choked up another wave before whimpering: "Hyung, please make it stop." – "I'm sorry, Innie", Chan cooed sympathetically, "Try to take deep breaths, yeah?" Shakily Jeongin did but failed miserably as his stomach wasn't yet done emptying itself. After a while though, he was reduced to dry heaves, which took a few minutes to taper off but when they did, Chan guided him to sit down on a bench close by their car. Hyunjin came over with tissues and some water for the maknae to rinse the taste off his tongue.
Drained from the earlier events, it didn't take long for Jeongin to go to sleep. Luckily, he was able to rest for a while before suddenly sitting up, startled. They only had another thirty minutes till they'd be home but the boy's stomach was rebelling again. Shakily picking up the bag, he squeezed his eyes shut. He didn't want this to happen again. Feeling his stomach clench, Jeongin gave a strained cough, that instantly brought up a small wave of sick. His mouth watered before he lurched forward again. Biting his lip in sympathy, Felix leaned forward in his seat behind the maknae and placed a comforting hand on his back. In an attempt to steady himself, Jeongin braced on hand against the dashboard while the other gripped the bag tightly. "You're doing great, Innie. We're almost home", Chan promised with a sad smile, taking one hand off the steering wheel to pat the younger's back. The boy could only groan in response, shaking from the strain. Leaning back against the window, Jeongin closed his eyes and let the bag dangle between his knees. He was certain he'd need it again if they weren't home very soon.
"Feeling a little better now?", Felix asked, walking up behind the bench to massage Jeongin's shoulders. The younger shrugged but relaxed, while the Aussie worked on his tense muscles. Handing the maknae some gum, Jisung commented: "I didn't know you get carsick, Innie?" – "Hm, been a while since it last happened. Just ate way too much earlier", Jeongin hummed, cringing at the memory of his dinner which didn't taste nearly as good the second time. Despite all of them wanting to get home soon, they hung around for some time, none of the members having the heart to force their youngest back into the car. Knowing they would have to continue eventually, Chan crouched in front of Jeongin and studied his pale face before cooing: "How do you feel now, Innie? Ready to continue?" The younger grimaced but he knew there was no way around finishing the rest of their drive. He nodded and allowed the leader to pull him to his feet. Changbin had readily traded seats with him, hoping his dongsaeng would feel better if he sat in the front. They got Jeongin settled with an empty plastic bag in his lap, incase he'd feel sick again later and Seungmin gave him his jacket because the maknae had started to shiver in his sweat-through shirt. By now, Jeongin was mostly tired, exhausted from the whole ordeal after already having had a long day, so as they continued their drive, Felix watched his dongsaeng's head dip down to his chest repeatedly. Taking pity on the boy, the Aussie took off his hoodie and bunched it up to a make-shift pillow. Stuffing it between the seat and the window, he gently guided Jeongin's head to rest against it. He hoped this way, the maknae would be able to sleep through the remaining two hours.
Dizzily dozing off, he didn't notice the car coming to a stop before somebody took the bag from his hands. Chan got out first and disposed of the bag before walking around to the passenger side. He waited for Felix to sneak his arm around the front seat to hold Jeongin, so he wouldn't fall out when Chan opened the door. The leader carefully opened the car door and unbuckled his dongsaeng, who sleepily blinked up at him when he got picked up. "Go back to sleep, Innie", Chan shushed, waiting for the rest of the group to get out. When everyone had gotten out of the car, he carried the maknae to their dorm. Minho was quick to open the door to let them in and Chan went straight for Jeongin's room. Setting the boy down on his bed, the Aussie helped him take of his sweaty shirt and put on a fresh one. Jeongin struggled out of his skinny jeans as well, sighing when the pressure was off of his stomach. When he was changed, he curled up and dozed off. He wasn't fully asleep yet, so he heard some rustling around the room before a hand shook him. Jisung whispered softly: "There's a bucket next to you and some water on the nightstand. Get some rest, Innie." The maknae hummed in reply, going to sleep while his roommate climbed into his own bed after making sure the younger had everything he might need. 
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Habanero
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You're a good girl, well behaved.
Absolutely not the type to rail random guys in nightclubs.
Until you are.
Fandom: BNHA
Pairing: Aizawa x Reader, eventual polyamorous Erasermic x Reader
Rating: Gen
Trigger Warnings: Referenced child abuse, blood
AO3: Here | Want to support me? I have a Kofi
Chapter: 4/16 (all chapters)
You were scared of a lot of things: bugs, dark places, ghosts, drowning and more. Your friends often joked that you were a wimp and you’d bever been inclined to disagree.
There was one thing, however, that scared you above all others. It sent shivers down your spine and left your legs wobbling from under you.
It was the door to your father’s home office.
Your father was a prosecutor and a pretty notorious one at that, famous for the number of guilty verdicts he had achieved over the years. He had an incredible advantage, of course- the same lie detection quirk that he had passed onto you. He spent most of his evenings alternating between his work and home offices, going over the details of cases and preparing for a never ending stream of plaintiffs.
His home office was a near perfect replica of the one in the city, complete with a golden name plaque on the door. You passed it every day, multiple times a day, and each time broke out in goosebumps as if the door watched you in turn.
It wasn’t only the plaintiffs your father needed to find guilty.
Your father was not in the least bit conservative with his quirk. You spent many an afternoon there, jaw clenched and skin crawling at his line of questioning.
Tell me… why were you late?
Tell me… how long did you study?
Tell me… who were you with?
You hated being left so exposed and, in retrospect, you weren’t in the least bit surprised that you ended up vanilla instead of habanero, desperately seeking a simple married life.
The anxiety of standing outside of your father’s home office stayed with you into adulthood, even now that you had your own home. You had started to believe it no longer had an effect on you; that you no longer remembered how it felt.
As you stood outside of the hospital door, though, you remembered clearly.
Hand trembling, you reached up to knock.
SEVERAL HOURS EARLIER
“Maybe if I move it that way…”
You scrolled through your calendar and let out a sigh at the appointments already there.
“No good, no good.”
You sat back in your chair and stretched, popping your shoulders and wiggling your toes.
“Maybe…”
You had a moment of inspiration, only to groan and click out of the window.
With the sports festival around the corner, your schedule was on the verge of taking a beating. Between modifying your office hours to make appointments with students to discuss their offers, to making room for counselling for those suffering disappointment, to keeping your usual appointments and open office hours, you were starting to consider bringing a futon and moving into your office for the foreseeable future. You’d known it was going to be a tight squeeze, but hadn’t counted on it being this bad.
You logged out of your computer and climbed out of your chair, giving your back a quick rub before leaving your office. You needed an IV of coffee, but a cup would have to do.
You were still thinking about your itinerary as you passed the 1-A classroom. Normally, between Kirishima, Bakugo and Iida, you heard the classroom long before you passed it. Today, though, it was silent and you peered through the window.
You’d heard that they were going on a trip with Thirteen to the USJ for specialist training and, if their empty desks were anything to go by, had already left. You had taken a tour of the facility during your initial induction and it had taken everything you had to keep your jaw from hitting the ground. You knew that UA was well funded, but it didn’t really sink in until then.
You wondered how they were getting on. Had Bakugou destroyed anything yet? Had Midoriya broken any of his bones?
You were still considering it as you passed the faculty lounge, dragged out of your thoughts by the sound of voices within. It sounded like the principal, though you weren’t sure who he was speaking to. You wondered if it was a private conversation and you should come back another time.
You knocked a couple of times before peeping around the door.
“Sorry,” you said, “am I interrupting?”
You really had heard the principal and he appeared to be sharing tea with All Might.
You weren’t sure you would ever be prepared for the sight of All Might in his skinnier form. Like most youngsters of your generation, you had watched his heroic acts in awe. You hadn’t known he was going to join the faculty at the time of your own job application and still found your heart racing whenever you passed him in the corridors.
You had signed eighteen different nondisclosure agreements after successfully taking on the job at UA, of which well over half related to the Symbol of Peace. You knew that he had been injured very badly and was losing his strength at an alarming rate. Even so, it was difficult to adjust to the reality.
“Ah, (Name), come in, come in,” said Principal Nezu, “we were just sharing a cup of tea, would you like some?”
You wanted coffee, but Nezu had already started to pour.
“Of course,” you said, closing the door behind you and taking a seat.
“You got here just in time,” said Nezu, pushing your cup across the coffee table. “We were discussing the fundamentals of teaching.”
“That sounds interesting,” you said, taking a sip of tea. “You must have a lot of insight.”
All Might twitched beside you, visibly restless. You wondered how long Nezu had been talking.
“Apologies,” he said, setting down his cup, “I should get going. I’ve already rested for far too long.”
He got up and walked towards the door, taking a deep breath before transforming into the muscular form the world knew and loved.
You would never get used to that either.
“So, (Name),” said Principal Nezu, “how are you finding the school? I trust you’ve had support from our staff?”
“Everyone’s been really kind,” you said. “I know they’re busy with their own workloads this term, but they’ve had so much time for me.”
You wrapped your hands around your cup, warmth flooding your fingers. You wanted to explain how grateful you were for the opportunity -that not so long ago your life had been falling apart- but you never got the chance, for the door to the lounge flew open and a student stormed inside.
“Principal Nezu! Something terrible has happened!”
It was Iida from 1-A, dressed in his hero costume and visibly out of breath. Your blood ran cold and you glanced across at Nezu, who had gotten to his feet.
“USJ...there’s been an invasion at USJ! Please help!”
Nezu’s response to the matter was swift and efficient. He turned to you, visibly transformed from the mild mannered principal who had offered you a cup of tea.
“(Name),” he said. “I’m going to gather everyone available. I need you to liaise with the authorities.”
“Of course,” you said, setting aside your tea and whipping out your phone.
“Meet us there,” he said as you began to dial.
“S-sir?”
You weren’t a pro hero; what possible use could you be?
His intentions soon became clear.
While your colleagues rushed into the danger zone, you stayed behind with the police, hitching a ride with Tsukauchi to the station once the area was secure.
Time was of the essence. You had read enough crime statistics to know that villain attacks very often came in waves, making the next few hours crucial to the safety of UA. Having a human lie detector on hand during the interrogations was more than a little bit useful.
You only wished you could concentrate.
Everything you knew about the incident came straight from Tsukauchi, so even though you had never actually seen the full extent of the carnage, you knew enough for your imagination to run wild.
You knew that the students had escaped with minor injuries and, while Shouta was badly hurt, he wasn’t dead. You couldn’t stop thinking about it, especially since the only image of the incident you had seen was that of his goggles broken on the floor.
You sat beside Tsukauchi in the interrogation room, silent as they brought in prisoner after prisoner. You only spoke to activate your quirk; only dragged yourself out of your contemplations to ask the same set of questions.
Three hours later, you knew only fractionally more than you did to begin with. The villains you’d caught were blatant throwaways, with no knowledge at all of the man they’d followed into battle or a greater scheme. They’d all wanted to take a shot at the symbol of peace and had no idea how close they had come to succeeding.
“Are you going to be alright?” Tsukauchi asked as interrogations came to a close.
You knew you must have looked a mess, popping aspirin and pinching the bridge of your nose.
“I’ll be fine,” you said, “honestly.”
“I’ll organise a car to take you to UA,” he said, but you shook your head.
“No, no that’s okay. I need to go somewhere first.”
Technically, you had two places to go first.
You stopped by the police station washroom to freshen up, leaning over the sink as the migraine set in. You pinched the bridge of your nose and watched as it began to bleed.
You weren’t used to using your quirk for such a long period of time and had almost certainly overdone it. The bleeding began to slow and you switched on the tap, washing away the blood on your face before plugging your nostrils with tissue paper. Unfortunately, you had still managed to bleed on your collar.
Just your luck that you would use your quirk too much on the day you decided to wear your new white blouse. You cursed at your reflection, trying and failing to adjust your shirt in such a way that it wasn’t noticeable.
Even now, you couldn’t concentrate.
You had never crossed paths with so many villains in one day. You had watched your father cross examine witnesses and plaintiffs many, many times, but had never been in his shoes. You hated it.
You knew exactly how they felt when you activated your quirk, recognised the squirming as it crawled through their skin. Part of you had enjoyed it, knowing that their discomfort in that moment did not compare to the violence they had inflicted on others.
Shouta.
The violence they had inflicted on Shouta.
He was a hero, you told yourself. He had signed up to fight those very same villains.
Even so, you hated them for it in ways you’d never hated a villain before.
You thought back to your training and took a deep breath.
“This is normal,” you whispered. “This is normal. This is a negative emotional response to a distressing situation. This is normal, we’ll move on.”
You took another deep breath, but your heart still rattled.
What is it that’s bothering me?
You reached into your purse for your makeup, painting away the shock for now at least.
We can work through that later.
PRESENT
And so, there you were, standing outside of Shouta’s room in the hospital.
They’d put him under the care of one of the best doctors in Musutafu, who assured you that surgery had been a success and his life was not in danger. There was a high chance his quirk would be affected by the damage to his orbital floor but even that was lucky, all things considered.
You tapped at the door and let yourself inside, taking in the calm and quiet of the room. Shouta was tucked up in bed and connected to numerous monitors, their steady beeps breaking the silence. You closed the door behind you and crept over to the bed, taking in the bandages that covered almost every inch of his body.
You had always known that heroes risked death and worse on a daily basis but had never seen it in person. You didn’t know how to feel about seeing him bloodied and broken. You had seen this man naked; you’d held onto the arms that a villain had broken. Did it always feel this personal?
You took a seat next to his bed, taking note of exactly how much of him was covered in bandages. You wouldn’t have known it was him if you hadn’t been told otherwise.
You didn't know what you had expected to find at the hospital, only that it would give you closure.
Why, then, did you still feel so uneasy?
You recalled his words from only recently, after you had given him a faceful of pepper spray.
Why would you try and confront a villain without help? You could have gotten yourself killed.
You need to be more rational in these things. Running head on into danger gets people killed.
Why hadn’t he followed his own advice?
Truthfully, you knew exactly why.
He had been well aware of the danger, but made the call anyway. He had analysed the situation and prioritised the lives and safety of his students over his own. It was the right thing to do and the rational part of you knew that, but you didn’t feel very rational right then.
You had to report back to Nezu; had to adjust your schedule ready for trauma counselling. You weren’t the only one who had been exposed to an unprecedented amount of villains that day. 1-A had almost certainly seen too much too soon.
You knew you had to leave, yet felt guilty as you got to your feet.
“I’m sorry,” you whispered, hoping that your words would reach him through the anesthesia. “I have to go...but I’ll be back tomorrow, okay?”
You promised yourself that you’d skip lunch if you had to.
“See you,” you said, leaning over to kiss his forehead as if on autopilot.
Your heart skipped a beat once you realised what you’d done.
Oh God, what were you thinking?
You reached into your purse for your chapstick as you left the room, so focused on painting away the kiss that you didn’t notice his fingers twitch.
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heynikkiyousofine · 3 years
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Inukag Week Day 3
Promise
Okay guys, this is my first try at InuKag week, as I’ve always loved it each year before. Enjoy my story for Day 3: Promise! @inukag-week
<a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/31995838"><strong>InuKag Week 2021 Day 3 Promise</strong></a> (5135 words) by <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/heynikkiyousofine"><strong>heynikkiyousofine</strong></a><br />Chapters: 1/1<br />Fandom: <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/tags/InuYasha%20-%20A%20Feudal%20Fairy%20Tale">InuYasha - A Feudal Fairy Tale</a><br />Rating: Teen And Up Audiences<br />Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply<br />Relationships: Higurashi Kagome/InuYasha<br />Characters: InuYasha (InuYasha), Higurashi Kagome, Kaede (InuYasha), Miroku (InuYasha), Sango (InuYasha)<br />Additional Tags: InuKag Week 2021<br />Summary: <p>Inukag work for Day 3, hope you enjoy!</p>
Inuyasha sat high in the tree, eyes closed, relaxing against the trunk, his ears flickering every few seconds, listening to the encouraging words of the monk below. He knew his Kagome could do it, she just had to believe it herself. They had been traveling for almost three seasons now and she grew more powerful every time they went into battle. As much as he hated to admit it, these sessions with Miroku were helping her access and channel her spiritual powers every time she faced a new danger. He would still protect her with his life no matter what, he promised himself that.
“Kagome, try one more time. Close your eyes, focus on expanding your barrier to cover both of us. Deep breaths.” Miroku spoke softly, as if he was any louder, he might discourage her.
“Okay, I can do this.” She said to herself, knowing one and/or both men were listening and watching. She felt that spark of power, the pure warmth expanding from her soul, brushing softly against her skin and covering her entire body. She could feel her skin buzzing with barrier slowly being pushed out from her body, as if it wanted to protect the precious things inside.
“Great, take a breath again, deep breath in, and when you exhale, push the barrier farther. You’re doing great.”
Sweat starting to form on her brow, she did her best to breath normally and push her barrier out. Kagome heard Miroku’s gasp and quickly opened her eyes. Around her, him, the tree where Inuyasha sat and a few more, were enveloped in her barrier. She squealed and laughed, catching her gaze with Inuyasha, who smiled slightly in return. “That’s my girl.” Inuyasha thought, knowing he could never actually tell her to her face without facing the teasing of Miroku or the knowing smile from Sango. Hearing Kagome gasp like she was in pain, he was instantly jumping from the tree to her side.
“Kagome!” Both men shouted.
Falling to her knees, with Miroku on her right, catching her arm, Inuyasha, right in front crouching, holding her left hand, Kagome was breathing extremely fast, her heart pounding, feeling like she had ran for hours. “I think I might have overdone it.” She admitted sheepishly, cheeks rapidly flushing, realizing Inuyasha was holding her hand.
“While you did a great job Kagome, I think it might be time to rest for the evening and we can continue training in a day or so, after some rest. We are only about a day’s walk back to Kaede’s home as well. I understand you need to restock on supplies.” Miroku spoke reassuringly.
While nodding her head, Kagome turned her eyes toward Inuyasha’s and softly smiled. Grunting, he spoke. “Miroku’s right. You can get some rest. You shouldn’t over do it.” Slightly scolding her, while also being gentle, he helped her up to her feet, hiding the fear in his eyes as an unwelcoming thought came about.
“I’m okay. Let’s go get dinner started. I’m sure Sango is waiting for us.” Kagome sighed.
As they headed back to their make shift camp for the night, the spot becoming more common to stop at when they traveled, Kagome couldn’t help but feel suddenly exhausted, like all her energy was being drained for her. Tripping over her feet, she felt clawed hands catch her upper shoulders and suddenly swing her arms up around his neck, so she was on his back. Smiling softly, she laid her head on his shoulders and whispered a thanks. Feeling his hands tighten around her legs, she knew he heard her.
Miroku spoke up suddenly, “Do you feel that?” Turning to his left, then his right, past the couple, he felt like his energy was trying to be drained from him, towards an evil aura. Inuyasha looked at him questionably, stopping as well, with Kagome lifting her head to look at him as well. The feeling vanished suddenly, as if it was caught doing something it shouldn’t, and Miroku shook his head, sighing softly, “Never mind, I thought I felt an evil presence.”
“That line only works in a village, when you just so happen to spot a well off house, Monk.” Inuyasha scoffed. “Let’s go, I want ramen and I don’t want Shippo to think he can have mine.”
Later that evening, after dinner was cleaned up, everyone got settled into their sleeping arrangements, Sango eyeballing Miroku, making sure there was plenty of space between them, Kagome felt even more exhausted and sore, wondering if she had pushed herself too hard today. “I think I’m going to refill my water and stretch my legs,” getting up and gathering her bow and arrows. Standing up as well, Inuyasha stated, “I’m coming with you.”
“I’m okay, the stream is right there. I’ve got my weapon just in case.”
“I’m still coming with you.” He replied gruffly, walking closer, “I have to ask you something.” He added softly.
Smiling brightly, she nodded her head and turned toward the stream with her empty bottle. Miroku and Sango watched them leave, exchanging questioning looks. As they walked quietly over, kneeling down, she felt him sit down beside her. After filling it, she screwed the cap on her bottle, Kagome looked up at the sky, it’s stars shining so brightly, smiling at how the stars just never seem to be as bright in her time.
“Kagome?”
Turning her head, she locked eyes with Inuyasha, gasping softly, she saw so many emotions come across his face. He never seemed to be this troubled or want to talk. “Yes?”
“Can you promise me something? And in return, I will promise you something?”
“Of course, what is it? What is troubling you so much?” Using her right hand, she took ahold of his.
A slight blush forming on his cheeks, he swallowed quickly, knowing if he didn’t spit the words out, he wouldn’t ever and he needed to know this. “First, will you promise to be more careful with your powers? I know today, you made progress, but you, uh, worried me there for a second. I mean, I knew you would be fine, but I couldn’t but help, uh, but think if there was danger around, someone could actually hurt you. Not that I would let them. Uh, I mean, my promise is-“
“Inuyasha.” Without realizing he was looking at their hands, he lifted his head to clash his golden eyes to the brightest, blue eyes, that you could get lost in. Kagome, smiling and softly spoke, “You’re rambling. Take a breath. Start over for me.”
Feeling much more calm than before, he squeezed her hand in a silent thank you, began to speak again. “Kagome, you are getting stronger. You can fight really well. I just want, no, I need you to promise me, that you won’t over do it, and end up hurting yourself again. That you will, uh, let me protect you.”
With a matching blush, Kagome nodded, “Oh Inuyasha, I promise. I want to stay by your side.”
“I will protect you with my life, Kagome. I promise you that.”
“Can I ask you something, Inuyasha?”
Nodding in agreement, he squeezed her hand again, in encouragement, noticing her sudden nervousness.
“After everything is said and done with Naraku, will you let me stay by your side?”
Silence.
“I mean, of course, I know you have other obligations and such, but you and Shippo, Sango, Miroku and Kaede have become so much more than friends to me and-“ she rambled on, eyes shutting tight, feeling insecure, like she said the wrong thing, letting her thoughts get away with her.
“Kagome.”
Opening her eyes, she saw the one thing she never thought to see reflected back in his eyes, love. “Kagome, I want us to stay together. If you want, I, uh, want to build us a hut. I want you to stay by my side.”
Laughing, Kagome jumped into his arms, giving him the tightest hug she could imagine, tears forming in her eyes. Burying her face in his fire rat, feeling his arms wrap around her, she nodded and enthusiastically repeated yes, over and over.
Chucking, Inuyasha, squeezed her, with a smile on his face. “Okay, now that that is settled, let’s get some rest, so we can make it back to your time tomorrow evening. You talked about another one of your exam demons you have to fight. We can talk more later.”
Giggling softly, she agreed and they headed back to camp, not even realizing their friends were laying, smiling, having heard most of the conversation.
The next morning, after breakfast and packing up their stuff, they began to travel back toward the village. Inuyasha up front, with Shippo on his shoulder, babbling on about the latest toy he couldn’t wait to play with, Miroku nodding along, beside him. A few paces back, Kagome and Sango followed with Kiara in Sango’s arms, napping slightly.
“You look fairly happy this morning Kagome.”
“I am. Inuyasha and I had a talk last night that cleared some things up, made a promise to each other. My heart just seems really happy today.” Kagome responded, a smile forming on her face.
Sango laughed and hugged, causing both girls to laugh louder, making the men up front, turn around and stare at them with questionable looks.
“It’s nothing guys! Kagome and I are having girl talk.”
Hearing them mumble and turn back around, Kagome sighed happily. She wondered if when she went home, she could go get a few extra things for the group, just because. Before she could think any further, she felt a wave of foreboding wash over her, causing her to stop and turn around, expecting to find something behind her. It was a like a pull towards the campsite they were at the previous night.
“What is it?” Sango asked stepping up beside her, stroking Kiara’s fur.
“I don’t know, it’s this weird pull, like something is calling me.”
“Come on! We haven’t got all day!” Inuyasha yelled at them from a little ways in front, the men not stopping to realize the girls felt something. As soon as Kagome turned to tell him what she was feeling, it disappeared, as if being caught, like a child sneaking a cookie before dinner. “It’s gone” she whispered to Sango, shrugging.
“If it comes back, we’ll check it out. Let’s get back to Kaede.” Nodding in agreement, they jogged to hurry up with the boys.
As dusk neared, they came walking towards Kaede’s hut, seeing her pull her door mat aside, welcome them. “Hello ye! I was wondering if ye all were arriving back soon. Come inside, I have just finished a pot of stew.” Thanking her as they walked inside, Inuyasha giving a nod in thanks for once, Kagome felt a light breeze, and slightly shivered, thinking about the weird feeling from earlier. Brushing it off, thinking it as nerves for her upcoming test she had been trying to study for at lunch, she followed everyone inside.
Once dinner was finished, everyone sat around the fire, speaking of the few demons they had slain, gaining two more jewel shards recently. Kaede asked about Naraku and of any whereabout, they told her that hadn’t seen or heard any hide of him since Mount Hakurei collapsed, that they came back to stock up on supplies, and hopefully go on another search in a few days, after Kagome returned. Shippo and Kiara curled softly near the fire, Shippo snoring softly.
The uneasy feeling from before washed over Kagome again, gasping looked toward the door.
“Something doesn’t feel right.” Miroku spoke and catching everyone’s attention.
“Kagome, are you feeling that weird sensation from earlier again?” Sango asked, touching her shoulder softly, nothing Kagome looked a little pale.
“What feeling? Why didn’t you say anything Kagome? What’s going on?” Inuyasha asked, voice growing louder and louder, staring Kiara and Shippo awake.
Before she could respond, Miroku started to speak, “Kagome, is this feeling, like something that is pulling at you, pulling at your soul in a direction, also a feeling of something bad and uneasy?”
Nodding, Kagome agreed quietly, “it started this morning, but I haven’t felt it since before lunch.”
“Why didn’t you say anything earlier?” Inuyasha asked again, crouching next to Kagome, trying to catch her eyes.
Looking down, feeling suddenly tired, Kagome started to speak, when everyone gasped around her. She looked up at their faces, she saw expressions of seriousness, confusions and astonishment. Seeing her hands out of the corner of her eyes, she realized she was glowing! What was going on?
“What the fuck?” Inuyasha angrily asked, getting to his feet turning towards the door quickly. “Something is coming.”
Jumping up, Miroku and Kaede applied sutras to the door panels, casting a barrier around the hut. Kagome immediately stopped glowing, feeling a little bit more energized, take a deep breath.
“Child, I think somebody is trying to steal your soul.” Kaede stated.
“Could it be Kikyo?” Sango asked quietly, gathering Kagome’s trembling hands in hers, knowing she needed to get ready for a battle.
Hearing Inuyasha growl loudly, swearing under his breath, Kaede shushed him and turned to the young ladies, both with frightened looks on their face. “No, I cannot feel her presence here. This is a far more pronounced evil, someone who has taken many souls.”
“I felt this feeling yesterday, but I think because I am more experienced in my spiritual powers, they couldn’t take mine. Kagome, I think, whoever it is, is after your powers and your pure soul.”
Feeling like she was about to faint, face going pale, she felt a clawed hand on her shoulder. Turning slowly, she locked eyes with hard, determine gold ones, hearing the words from his mouth, “I promised to protect you with my life.” Nodding in agreement, she closed her eyes and took a deep breathe, trying to steady herself again.
Feeling soft paws other outstretched legs, she opened her eyes to see Shippo looking at her with a worrisome expression, “Are you alright Gome?”
“Yes, Shippo, I’m okay. So what do we do now? I can’t stay in this hut forever.” Kagome asked out loud.
Before anyone could respond a loud, shrill scream came from outside, causing everyone to stop and stare at the sutra covered doorway.
“Stay here.” Inuyasha walked towards the door, turning around, “I’ll check it out.”
“Wait, Inuyasha, if you-“ Miroku started to yell. As Inuyasha stepped through the door, the barrier around the hut shattered down, making the whole hut shake. “Inuyasha! You just dispelled the barrier, now anything can come and go!”
“How was I supposed to know that?!”
Hearing a feminine laughter outside, everyone grabbed their weapons and fled the hut. Rushing outside, they saw a village woman weeping over a body, that looked devoid of a soul and a witch standing a few feet away, glowing in the same light color Kagome had been in previously. This witch was tall, with long, pin straight, black hair, and black eyes that reminded Kagome of the darkest clouds during a thunderstorm.
“Ah, finally, that delectable soul has come out to play. I was wondering when I would get to see the face of the purest soul I have ever tasted.” The witch, in a purple garment, with elegant red beading, spoke arrogantly.
“Who the fuck are you?” Inuyasha growled loudly, pushing Kagome behind him. He didn’t like this woman or that she made his Kagome sacred.
“Well, if I must tell you, before I take all of your souls, my name is Ahmya”
“Black rain.” Miroku whispered.
“You are correct, Monk. I cursed my mother for giving me the name, she never wanted me. Her angry soul tasted divine I tell you.”
“So, that’s why you’re after our souls? Because you have mommy issues? Grow the fuck up.” Inuyasha yelled, pulling out his tessaiga and pointing it towards the woman.
Beginning to walk around the weeping villager, Ahmya began to tell her story, “Oh, my dear sweet, I have gotten over my mommy issues as you say. I walk the countryside, devouring ugly souls for my own benefit. It hasn’t been until the last few decades or so that I have come to know pure souls taste better and give me longer strength and beauty.”
“So, you made a deal with a demon then? For beauty? Well, I can tell you it didn’t work.” Inuyasha smugly responded.
Laughing like it was the funniest thing she ever heard, “I can see why her soul yearns for yours. You are charming hanyou.”
Gasping softly, Kagome began to see blurs of faces, children’s cries, souls being pulled from their bodies toward this woman. Tears streaming down her cheeks, she tried to put into words what she was seeing, her heart breaking. “What did you do to her?! Kagome?!” Inuyasha yelled, smelling her tears, turned around to face her, shocked by what he was seeing. Kagome’s hands were glowing pink, cupped together, eyes glazed over, tears flowing down her cheeks, mumbling soft words.
“Miroku, Sango, watch over everyone, I’m going to rip this witch to shreds.”
“You took their souls.” Kagome spoke softly, just loud enough for Sango to step up and ask, “What was that Kagome?”
Smiling, Ahmya started laughing. “This girl has so much power, beyond any I have ever seen in my years, with the purest soul. I tried to taste more of her this morning, but she is strong. She caught what I was doing before I got far. I, however, did get to look inside her soul, that she yearns to protect you hanyou, like you protect her. That she cares for all you others more than anything. How much she loves her beloved hanyou. She is correct, some of the purest souls have been children. They tasted so sweet, I can still hear their cries as I cradled them into their death.”
“You took so many souls. Children, old folks, babies from wombs, children from their mother’s hands, whole demon families wiped out from you, How could you?!” Kagome began, her voice growing louder, til she was almost yelling, her body beginning to glow all over and bright pink color.
“Kagome, you’re going to push yourself too hard again, take a breath.” Miroku spoke softly, trying to calm her down, stepping closer.
“I’m going to kill you. I’m going to make you pay for killing all those people and for hurting Kagome.” Inuyasha swore, raising his sword up high, while Kaede rushed to the weeping woman, and erected a barrier to protect them, knowing Inuyasha’s power. Miroku stepped in front of Sango and Kagome, while Shippo tried to help Kagome take deep breaths on her shoulder.
Before Inuyasha could swing his sword. he froze, grunting in pain. “What the hell?”
“Inuyasha!” Kagome shouted, taking step towards him.
“Stop. I’m okay, I think” he responded, feeling faint. As Inuyasha’s body started to glow white, he suddenly dropped to his knees, a vacant look crossing his face.
“I’ll start with his soul first. The yearning to protect you makes his soul quite delicious.” Ahmya licked her lips, brought her hands together, holding a mirror, chanting a soft spell, making it glow the same pale color Inuyasha was glowing in. Within the next second, an arrow surrounded in pink flew through the air, towards the mirror, causing it to fall from her hands. Eyes flashing in annoyance, Ahmya turned towards to woman who fired.
Kagome, breathing hard, readied another arrow, “Leave him alone.”
Falling to the ground, breathing shallow, Inuyasha groaned, looking up. Sango ran to this side and helped him, gathering him to his feet. Miroku started to chant, pulling his staff in front of him, creating a barrier around the gang, while Kaede still watched from afar, wearily, with the weeping woman.
“You wretched child. I will have his soul, and yours when I am done pulling his from his body.” Ahyma screeched.
Getting to his feet, Inuyasha yelled, getting ready to release the Wind Scar, Miroku stopped him. “If you release that in here, then we all die. If you step out of that barrier, she will steal your soul. You will lose yourself to your demon side, trying to survive, or you will die!”
“Inuyasha please, we’ll figure this out!” Sango pleaded. She knew this battle would be like none other fought before. Gathering Shippo setting him atop Kiara beside her, she braced herself beside Inuyasha, Hiraikotsu in position.
“Look! She’s chanting again.” Cried Shippo.
Turning around, Inuyasha stepped towards Kagome, only to hear words like a piercing scream, causing his head to pound. Pushing his ears towards his head, he saw Kagome with her hands over her ears, eyes shut tight, everyone else around with the same pained looks. Within seconds, the barrier Miroku tried to keep up, shattered, and the screaming stopped.
“Kagome! Are you okay?” Inuyasha cried.
Nodding slightly, Kagome opened her eyes to see the witch staring straight at her with a smug smile, holding the mirror in her hands once again. As Inuyasha started taking a step towards her, she felt herself becoming angry. Taking a deep, she felt her power spread from her hands, across her body and pushed out, erecting a barrier around everyone, including Kaede and the two villagers, leaving herself outside. She knew what she needed to do.
“Dammit! Kagome! What the fuck are you doing?! Kagome!!!” Inuyasha yelled from inside, beating on the walls with his fists.
“Inuyasha, I’ve got this. I can protect you. If you leave that barrier, she will take your soul.”
“You promised me Kagome! You promised me you wouldn’t over do it. You promised me you would let me protect you!”
Tears beginning to form in eyes, she wiped her cheeks and focused on her breathing, to keep her barrier steady as Inuyasha pounded against it repeatedly. Hearing the other’s voices of concerns, along with Inuyasha’s yelling, she realized Ahmya started to chant again. Knocking an arrow, she whispered “Hit the mark!” And aimed towards to glowing mirror.
Shooting off, the arrow struck in the middle and caused the mirror to shatter into tiny pieces. Small white orbs began to float around them, looking like a million little stars. Smiling, she was about to knock another arrow to take care of the witch, she began to feel the faint feeling again and saw she glowing a light white light. Falling to her knees, she gasped and the witch began to laugh, while the orbs of light floated away.
“You may have destroyed my mirror, which houses the souls that I have yet to devour, but I still can take yours.”
Kagome could hear Inuyasha getting louder, yelling and pounding, crying out her name desperately. “If I can get one more arrow in her, I can save them.” She thought bitterly to herself. Using the last of her strength, she pulled an arrow back, stringing the bow tightly. Before she could release, the bow snapped in two. Gasping in shock, she felt the last of her strength leave her, causing Kagome to fall to the ground, face first.
“NO! KAGOME! WHAT DID YOU DO BITCH? KAGOME! KAGGOMMMEEEEE!!!!” Inuyasha screamed, purple markings beginning to appear across his cheek bones, Sango had tears rolling down her cheeks, holding a wailing Shippo. Miroku began to say a prayer to let her soul find its peace in nirvana, when he noticed the barrier did not fall.
“Look,” he began, “the barrier is still up. She’s still there.” Sango, hearing this, quieted a sniffling Shippo, looking towards the girl on the ground, who lay lifeless still.
“Inuyasha, stop. Ye need to look.” Kaede began to stand, speaking directly at the angry and hurt hanyou.
“Old hag, don’t stop me. I’m going to kill that evil bitch and get her soul back.” He seethed, fangs growing, piercing his lip.
“Inuyasha. Look.” She repeated.
Turning he looked at Ahmya, seeing confusion and frustration wash across her features, wrinkles beginning to appear across her forehead. “What the…” he whispered, whipping his head to Kagome, who was glowing a bright pink.
Opening her eyes, Kagome knew she wasn’t in heaven or hell. She felt the dirt beneath her face, the soft grass on her skin. She couldn’t hear her friend’s voices. Everything seemed to be pounding in her head, she began to get up on her knees, noticing she was glowing pink, her strength returning slowly. Looking up, she saw Ahmya struggling to keep up her chant, aging beyond her years, and turned to her right to see everyone staring at her with wonder, behind her still standing, fully erect barrier. Turning in confusion, she locked eyes with Miroku, who nodded. She knew what to do next.
Determined, she began to stand, following the struggling sounds of the witch, turned her gaze towards her. Ahmya realized that she was failing. Quickly changing to another spell, deciding she could weave one to bind the girl and take her away, so she could get her soul later at her home. Suddenly, she saw the girl glow brighter, she began her spell, creating a glow around herself the color of dark purple, similar to her clothing. Shielding their eyes, everyone in the barrier braced for the unknown, Inuyasha glancing uneasily, between Kagome and Ahyma, hands on tessaiga, ready to go once the barrier was down. Sango and Miroku steadied their weapons, Kaede getting an arrow ready to shoot.
Kagome knew in this instant, if she didn’t stop this witch, she would steal more souls and never stop, taking the purest from the world. Taking a deep breath, she loudly exclaimed, her body glowing brighter, “You will never take a soul ever again.” Using all her strength and power, she readied herself to send it towards the witch. Creating a bow and arrow, whispered “How the mark.” As an arrow made from pure purification energy soared through the air, Ahyma screamed, stopping her spell and turn to try and run. Before she could take a step, the arrow plunged straight through her heart, everything exploding around her.
As the brightness died down, Ahyma dropped her knees wailing, looking at her reflection in the pieces of the broken mirror, seeing an old woman, barely hanging on to life. “You, you child! How could a child do this to me?! I will have your power! I will have ever lasting life!” Screaming, she pulled a knife from her sleeve, not noticing Kagome brought the barrier down a few seconds before.
Inuyasha jumped infant on Kagome, preventing Ahyma from harming her, and swung. “Wind Scar!” Howling in pain, Ahyma disintegrated to ash. All was quiet for about 30 seconds, before Inuyasha turned around towards Kagome with the most irate look on his face.
“Inuyasha.” Miroku spoke softly, coming up beside him, Sango following quickly with Shippo. “Wait.”
Before Inuyasha could say anything, he look at Kagome and froze. Kagome was still as can be, arms hanging beside her, body swirling in pink and white glowing colors, eyes glazed over with a blank face, covered in a barrier.
“I think ye need to take a step back everyone. She is trying to reclaim her soul and calm herself. Give her a minute.” Kaede spoke, helping the gentleman and his still crying wife up, encouraging them to go home, that they were fine and she would check on the tomorrow. “Kagome is very powerful, she realized herself tonight and her soul is attempting to recognize all of it and what she has done. Unconsciously she thinks she is still in danger and is protecting herself.”
“She won’t hurt me.” Stepping closer, Inuyasha spoke softly, “Kagome, it’s me. You are safe now. The witch is dead. I’ve got you.” He reached for her hand, and as he intertwined their fingers, her felt her take a deep breathe and eyes clearing the beautiful blue he had come to love.
The first thing she saw in his eyes was anger, followed by fear, and absolutely awe. Smiling softly, she called his name and took a step towards him, incasing him in her barrier. Once fully inside, the two of them just stood there looking at each other, neither of them speaking just yet.
“I’m sorry.”
“Are you okay?”
Both realizing they spoke at the same time, they blushed and laughed breathlessly.
“You were reckless. How could you Kagome?! You promised me and then went and broke every promise you made to me! I thought you died. Are you okay?”
“I’m so sorry, it wasn’t until she started to take your soul that I realized what I needed to do. I’m okay, I promise.” Kagome softly said, tears forming in her soft, blue eyes. Feeling two hands cuff her cheeks and thumbs wiping away the tears, she brought her hands to cover his.
“You can’t make promises and then break them. I can’t lose you Kagome. Promise me you won’t do that again. You have to swear. You told me you wanted to stay by my side. I need you, haven’t you figured that out by now, Kagome?”
“I swear, I promise. I won’t leave your side again.”
“You better. I’m holding you to that promise.” Inuyasha quickly kissed her forehead, making them both blush softly. “I think you had better let the barrier down, so the others can see that you’re okay. Sango looks like she’s about to kick my ass if I don’t let you go soon.”
Laughing in agreement, Kagome closed her eyes and released a deep breath, bringing down her barrier. Feeling multiple arms around her, she laughed louder, smiling, as everyone began to talk while hugging her.
“Child, ye scared a few years off my life.”

 “Kagome, are you okay? Don’t scare me like that sister.”
“Kagome, job well down. Next time, let me know when you decide to do something that powerful. I can see our lessons are working!”
“You’re okay! I was so worried about Gome! You were such a badass!”
“Shippo!” Kagome exclaimed, “Language!”
“Sorry!”
“Kagome, ye were wonderful, ye are growing stronger all the time.” Kaede began.
“She doesn’t have to do that all the time! She promised me she would be more careful.”
“Inuyasha, move over, I want to hug her.”
“Alright slayer, but I’m staying right next to her. Monk, don’t touch me.”
“It’s the curse, not me!”
“Gome! You should purify Miroku!” Shippo snickered, everyone laughing along.
“It’s the hand, I swear! I always get blamed.” Miroku exclaimed shaking his head. Kagome laughed, shaking her head at their antics, thinking of her promise to Inuyasha, that she would do whatever it took so she could stay by his side forever.
The End.
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twilight-aus · 3 years
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stray kids x camp half blood (part 2)
part 2 is finally here and it’s time for changbin and hyunjin to take stage! i got really into writing these two so they seem a bit longer to me!! i fully intend to write a changjin fic in this universe one day so this is kinda just,, a way to explain backstory for me!
anyway here’s part 1 if anyone missed it and i hope you enjoy!!!
seo changbin- child of hades
okay,,, I know what you’re thinking,,, and I debated it too but he just fits so well as a child of hades so im resting my case with this. So,,, yeah theres that whole pact between the big three aka zeus, Poseidon and hades,,, and hades did stick to it,,, he just happened to totally forget that one time he didn’t but as no one ever came forward to be like “hey you gave me a kid??” he just chose to forget about it and stays loved up with Persephone down in the underworld. Changbin is pretty normal for the most part,,, goes to school, gets fussed over by his mum too much and likes to make music. Except,, well changbin knows he’s not normal when he came back from school one day and as he was fumbling to find his key to his apartment he shared with his mum,,, a huge pile of gold coins just appeared at his feet as he got more agitated when he couldn’t find his key… well his mum opened the door, saw the gold and was like,, well here we go. He gets sent to camp half blood that summer and is just like,,, I really don’t understand what I’m doing here when he’s with chan and chan just sorta looks at him funny before being like “well,, come and stay with me for the time being!!” and well,, it takes a few weeks of summer camp before changbin gets claimed and when he does…. It’s an absolute nightmare to say the least. Everyone is just so CONFUSED?? Like, Hades kids shouldn’t be a thing?? Wasn’t there that whole pact between the big three ?? Anyway,, this kinda causes people to stay away from changbin,,, bc damn that’s scary the third hades kid to appear in recent history is actually terrifying,,,, let’s just Zeus and Poseidon are raging upstairs lmaoooo. Poor changbin though,,, he had so many friends before he got claimed but they all kinda just left him,, apart from his lil crew of 8,,, yeah skz they don’t leave him behind. Bc they know he’s way more than being just a kid of Hades,,, like he’s so different from the typical moody, dark traits of Hades kids,,, pink sweaters, loves all things sweet, and ADORES HUGS. Like,,, a lot,,, which is good for skz because theyre so cuddly themselves but damnnn,,, dark scary changbin likes hugs?? He’s always clinging to felix or hyunjin and everyone’s just like,,, what. This makes people open up way more to changbin. Until it’s capture the flag time and changbin gets banned from summoning skeletons bc he sicced them on jisung once and well,,, yeah it wasn’t pretty. Oh,, changbin is like the strongest Hades kid who is not only good with his powers but like,,, he loves working out ?? everyone, including hades himself, just assumes he’s gonna stay a moody, thin kid like Nico or smth but no,,, short beefy changbin appears and he absolutely DECIMATES everyone including the ares kids in combat bc he’s just so,,, beefy….
hwang hyunjin- child of Hecate
So you’re probably all thinking,,, why not an Aphrodite kid?? Well that’s boring and overdone and I just think,,, witchy hyunjin. That’s all I want. Now hyunjin was sent to camp half blood by his dad bc quite frankly,, he was kinda terrified of what hyunjin might become without proper training so he sent him off with a promise from chiron to not reveal to hyunjin who is godly parent was,,, so there hyunjin was, standing around the cabins like,,, where do I fit in. Chan, being Chan, adopts hyunjin and they’re both just in the Hermes cabin. Hyunjin is kinda just,, a bit clueless bc he’s like,,, wow “Greek gods are real and im the son of one of them omg what if im like,,, the son of Poseidon or smth that would be so cool” and chan kinda just side eyes him bc like,,, chan knows he’s different and doesn’t fit with any of the cabins they have so. Anyways,, so as hyunjin only really goes to camp during the summer, by the time new cabins were built at camp half blood he was back at mortal school and when he comes back next summer,,, well he keeps being drawn to one cabin in particular…. You guessed it, it’s the Hecate cabin. He just stands there staring at it when he arrives until chan appears behind him to explain the new cabins and lets himself being dragged back to the Hermes cabin, not without sparing another look at the Hecate cabin. Hyunjin is fairly,,, okay at being at camp, he’s not the best archer or swordsperson, he’s okay at ancient Greek langauge, he does alright in his ancient Greek history classes but like,, he doesn’t fit in anywhere. All of his friends have been claimed by their godly parent and Hyunjin’s a bit bitter that his dad is either sending him to boarding school during term time and then to camp during the summer and still won’t tell him who is mum is like ?? yeah it’s bit frustrating bc he’s one of the oldest unclaimed kids and he’s just over it okay. One day in the middle of summer,,, everything changes. Hyunjin is just minding his own business as he’s cleaning up the archery area after practice when minho thinks it’s funny to see if hyunjin will notice if he shoots an arrow towards him,,, well,,, minho does this at the same time hyunjin whips around sensing something and theres an arrow flying towards him and he panics okay he doesn’t mean to stop it in midair it just happened and minho is just like,,, open mouthed staring at him like wtf. The arrow clatters to the ground after a tense few seconds and hyunjin just runs away to the only place that makes sense and it’s the Hecate cabin. It’s not until a few hours later when the boys decide to visit him that he sees another person, too busy being scared by what just happened and yeah, well as soon as the see him there’s a purple wheel above his head and he’s been officially claimed. Little things that had no explanation now suddenly do,,, it’s been hwang hyunjin all along.. (they keep it a secret from chiron and camp for a few hours as they comfort him but you know,,, chiron realises where everyone is pretty soon and he just smiles,, he knows hyunjin’s dad has nothing to fear anymore)
find part one HERE
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gumnut-logic · 4 years
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Take a Minute
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This is another case of me just indulging myself. It took longer than expected and ended up at around 2400 words, none of which really go anywhere.
Many thanks to @i-am-chidorixblossom​ for the read through and cheering.
I hope you enjoy it.
-o-o-o-
The hatch creaked as the hydraulics let it down to the dry hard packed dirt. A small puff of dust billowed up around the hot cahelium and it caught in his nose, tickling in the heat.
The horizon was flat and the earth iron red as it disappeared into the ominous grey of the cloud blocking the sky.
Virgil’s boots made their own puffs of dust as he stepped off the hatch and emerged from under the shadow of Two. The puffs followed him as he walked the length of his ‘bird. The dirt gritted under his specialised soles as he avoided the heat of her cooling VTOL and the scorch of her now quiet thrusters.
His landing was precautionary. A warning light had come on during the flight home and dumping himself in the middle of the Outback for a mechanical check was preferable to taking a swan dive in the middle of the Tasman.
Outside appearances gave no clue to the issue and unfortunately, he would have to wait for her engines to cool off before attempting to access the thruster that was the problem.
A sigh and he turned back to look at the horizon.
He truly was in the middle of nowhere.
“Thunderbird Two, status report.”
Typical Scott. His brother was hip deep in a rescue on the other side of the planet, but his brother radar still managed the range.
“Status a-okay, Thunderbird One. Just taking a moment to gaze at the scenery.”
“John says you have a mechanical fault.”
“Quite possibly. Fine for the moment. Just need a little cooling time. I’ll keep you updated.”
“FAB, Thunderbird Two.”
And then it was back to the silence.
True silence.
There was no wind.
No water.
No birds.
Just the heat of a dying day leaching out of the sand, the creak of his cooling ‘bird, and the potential energy in the air.
It was going to rain.
The Kansas farm boy could tell that much. Even in another country and an entirely different environment, he could feel it.
He didn’t need fancy instrumentation to predict that.
The impending storm raised the hair on his arms under his uniform. It itched at his skin and spoke of change.
Ants crawled across his boots, winged queens and drones launching to join a cloud of them off to his right.
It was eerie.
He shifted where he stood, unsure of what to do next. He wasn’t one for killing time. Time was a valuable thing and needed to be used to its upmost. But this stop was unplanned and there was little he could do while waiting.
Sure, there were tasks. There were always tasks, nitty gritty maintenance jobs. He was never short of work.
But the air was still. The sense of building atmospheric release buzzed across his senses.
It was tantalising.
He shivered.
There were still a couple of hours before sunset, but the air was dark due to the heavy cloudbank looming over the landscape.
A thought.
A flash of guilt followed by stubborn determination.
He turned and climbed back on to the hatch and retracted it, only to lower it again a few moments later with a folded chair and a box in his hands.
He parked it in the sand.
The silence was a physical presence.
He opened the box to reveal a portable watercolour kit – a neat palette of half pans, a fine brush and a small block of high-quality paper.
It was an indulgence he kept aboard his ‘bird. One he had yet to use, so this was definitely an opportune moment. A tiny amount of time to throw down some colour and capture this red-on-blue-grey intensity.
It didn’t take him long to realise he had forgotten a couple of things. A muttering step back into his ‘bird and he returned with a small table and a cup full of water.
He finally managed to settle himself. Painting while wearing his uniform wasn’t the most comfortable. It was bulky and in the way. He did shed his gloves, which meant he had to take off his wrist controller. Scott would frown enough to dent his nose, but he couldn’t paint with his gloves on.
There was heavy lifting, but there was also sensitive and tactile manipulation. He liked to think he was capable of both.
A dip of his brush into clear water, a dab of cadmium red, and colour spilled onto the paper.
Payne’s grey filled the sky in soft billows with just a hint of ultramarine. He tried to keep his touch gentle. Watercolour was so unforgiving. Fast and delicate, the colours could easily be overdone and unlike acrylic or oils, could not be undone satisfactorily.
It took all his concentration to sketch out the worn landscape.
The parched air dried the colours quickly and it wasn’t long before he was flicking strands of yellow ochre spinifex in the foreground, the little painting almost done.
In the distance, the clouds rumbled warning.
He dabbed in a second layer to bring up the contrast, the greys echoing the thunder on the horizon. Just a touch of green brought out the red of the iron in the sand.
“I really don’t know how you do that.”
Virgil nearly fell out of his chair.
“Scott!” His heart thudded in his ears and he clutched the drying painting in his hands as it tried to slip from his fingers. “What the hell?! How did you…?” He shot to his feet and turned to find his brother standing behind him. Beyond, at a respectable distance, sat Thunderbird One.
Scott held up both hands, taking a step back. “Hey, I saw you were painting, so I parked back a ways. Figured you wouldn’t want VTOL messing with your paints.” But then his brother was smothering a grin. “You were kinda zoned out there, Virg.”
“You were in Prague! How did you get here so fast?” It was a stupid question. He was Scott Tracy. Fast was part of his genome.
But his brother frowned. “It’s been over an hour since I last contacted you. The situation is resolved. I was on my way back and thought I’d check in. John said he hadn’t had an update.”
Virgil stared at his brother. An hour? He brought his wrist up to check the time, but his controller was on the little table beside his chair with his discarded gloves.
Oh.
Scott arched an eyebrow at him.
Virgil grunted before putting the painting down carefully and retrieving his equipment. A moment later, his gloves were on and his wrist controller back in place.
It was indeed over an hour later.
Thunderbird Two would have cooled down enough forty-odd minutes ago.
“You were lost in your painting, weren’t you.” It wasn’t a question. His brother sighed, walked over to the table and picked up the piece of art. Blue eyes scrutinised it. “Nope. I don’t have a clue how you do that. It’s great, Virg.” He handed it over and somewhat numbly, Virgil took it.
He stared at the strokes in which he had been so absorbed earlier. The landscape stretched into the paper, reds bouncing off blues, the stillness captured in pigments.
Okay, so he had to admit, it was working quite well. He had muddied the colour a little in one corner and there was a patch where he’d left more white paper than was probably necessary because he was too worried about over doing the paint, but overall it mostly did what he wanted it to do. Oh, his wash hadn’t quite worked in that bit. Damn.
But…
He could get away with it.
“Earth to Virgil? You okay in there?”
Scott was smirking.
Virgil glared at him before cradling the watercolour block in one hand, picking up the palette with the other and packing it away. He stomped his way back to his ‘bird.
He ignored the laugh behind him.
He was stashing the paints in their locker when Scott joined him in Two, both the table and chair folded up in his hands. “Where do you stash these?”
Virgil gestured in the direction of the utility store and his brother put the equipment away.
Back in the cockpit, Virgil pulled up the suspect control and found the red light still glaring accusingly as Scott entered behind him.
“Give me ten. I need to inspect her starboard thruster.” He grabbed a safety line and threw back the overhead hatch. The gloomy atmosphere crept into the cockpit, but he ignored it and elevated the himself up so he could climb onto the top of his ‘bird.
“Virgil, you do know there is a storm coming in. You’re standing on the highest point for miles.”
“I’ll only be a minute.” Keep your pants on.
But his brother was right. His dawdling with his paints had cost him time and the weather was moving in.
He hurried across the back of his Thunderbird sliding carefully onto her starboard intake, and making his way down to the access hatch. He hooked in his safety line, prodded his controller to release the security, and hauled the hatch open.
Five minutes later, with several profane words that had Scott even more concerned, he yanked an obstruction out of her secondary intake valve.
It was a bright yellow, now somewhat grimy, Thunderbird Four.
No more than four inches long.
“I’m going to kill him.”
“Virg? What? Who?”
“Gordon.” He didn’t elaborate. The sky was well and truly rumbling now and he needed to get inside.
Tightening the valve, he gave it a good once over to check for damage. Another poke at his controller and the dash confirmed the issue resolved.
Access secured, he unhooked his line and made a run for the main hatch just as the landscape lit up white with lightning.
He leapt into his ‘bird as if he had that lightning on his tail.
His boots hit deck plates. Virgil reached up and threw the hatch closed and sealed away the angry sky.
Scott was staring at him.
Virgil met that gaze before walking past his brother towards his pilot seat. He casually chucked the little Thunderbird Four to his brother like the grenade it was.
Scott caught it. “What the hell?”
Gordon was dead twice over and he didn’t even know it.
“You better get back to your ‘bird. The sky’s going to open up any minute and we should probably be above it rather than below it.” Virgil poked at the weather read out. It was only a weather front, nothing compared to the cyclone forces the Thunderbirds were capable of tackling. “You might get wet.”
Scott was still glaring at the model in his hand. A distracted grunt.
Gordon was definitely dead.
Possibly more than twice.
“Okay, less imaginary brother murders and more getting back to your ‘bird.”
“Huh?”
Yeah, so now who was zoning out?
Virgil nudged his brother onto the hatch platform and stepped on himself, lowering it onto the red dust again.
He stepped off the deck plates just as the first fat rain drops started to hit the dust.
Damn. “Too late.” And as if he had given the sky permission, it really opened up.
Water hit dry earth in big splats, puffs of red rose only to be taken down by more rain. The stipple of water fast became patches and then the land deepened in colour. The bright iron red darkened almost to a burgundy. The spinifex he had so finely painted not half an hour earlier, shifted from a yellow ochre to a gold that almost glowed in the remnant light.
As Scott stepped up beside him, secure under the protection of Two’s nose, the landscape bleached suddenly and the sky grumbled and cracked. The air smelt of ozone and the sharp evaporation of precipitation in the heat. But there was more water than the air or the earth could take and it puddled in the indents between the rocks.
Some kind of thorny lizard darted out from a tuft of spinifex and hurried under the shelter of Two beside the brothers. At the lack of the rain on its back, it looked up as if surprised. Two reptilian eyes stared at them before darting back out into the rain.
Scott took another step forward and Virgil put a hand on his arm.
“You’re not going to try to run through that.”
“I’ve got to get back to One.”
“Why?”
“Because…” His brother trailed off.
Virgil squeezed his arm gently. “Take a minute. This is a desert storm. It will be short lived. We can wait.”
Blue eyes stared at him.
Okay, so waiting wasn’t part of Scott Tracy’s genome.
“Take a minute. Watch.” Virgil turned back to the storm and revelled in the release of the tension that had been building for the last couple of hours. He watched the rain hit the earth, the patterns, the dance of spinifex leaves. He listened to the roar, the wet splat against cahelium, the sigh as the water disappeared into the grass and the grumbles in the clouds.
Scott eventually turned to look and, for a short while there, they were just a couple of brothers staring out at the storm.
The fact they were sheltering underneath one of the most advanced technological creations on the planet was unimportant.
“This is all your fault, you know.” Scott’s voice was soft.
A grunt. “I think Gordon’s is the more likely culprit.”
“If you hadn’t stopped to paint, we’d be home by now.”
Virgil didn’t answer immediately. He took a breath. “But then we would have missed this.”
At that moment the sun finally hit the horizon and slipped through a gap in the clouds to light up the wet landscape in gold. Rain still fell, but it was as if it was liquid sunlight failing from the sky. Water glistened on everything and the clouds lit up from underneath.
Thunder rumbled in clouds turning pink in the east.
“Yeah, we would.” But the acknowledgement was distracted as Scott stared at the spectacle.
Perhaps they had something for which to thank Gordon. It was a moment that they would never have experienced if Virgil hadn’t had to stop.
He breathed in the freshened air and let it out with a relaxing sigh.
No.
Gordon was still dead.
-o-o-o-
FIN.
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qqueenofhades · 5 years
Text
Aziraphale and Crowley decide to go travelling.
They have been on Earth for over six thousand years, but they’ve not actually seen that much of it. They’ve been soldiers posted at a garrison, responsible for the blessings and/or temptations despatched in the British Isles for jolly well most of that time, and they can’t just faff off whenever they please. (As well as, of course, the unspoken fact that neither of them will stray too far from the other. Aziraphale’s had to handle the Irish-related bits since the fifth century, when a killjoy bloke named Patrick chucked the snakes out. Pity, that – Crowley, being red-haired and fond of drink and trouble, would love to come back, but alas.) They have moved out of London and to that cottage in the South Downs, itself a change after living in the city for almost five hundred years, but it doesn’t take long for them to realise that without constant marching orders to await and no destruction of the world to avert, they’ve got… time. And one morning Crowley suggests, and Aziraphale somehow finds himself agreeing, that they just bugger off and see the lot of it. Or at least make a start.
They don’t travel like humans who want the big flashy commercial bits: the Eiffel Tower, the Great Wall of China, the Sydney Opera House, Disneyworld. Aziraphale thinks at first that they’ll just ride in Pullman cars, something he has always rather wanted to do, and is dismayed to learn that Pullman cars went the way of the dodo in 1968. Failing that, they should just fly, or miracle themselves. He’s taken aback when Crowley thinks it’s funny to insist on human transport, though Crowley himself was responsible for many of the recent innovations of the airline industry and has to admit, the first time they’re stuck in economy class aboard an over-booked jetliner with a screaming child behind them, he may have overdone it. They are subject to delayed trains, packed buses, leaky ferries, and the delights of something called a moto, which Aziraphale might have enjoyed more if he wasn’t screaming the whole time. Course, Crowley loves it. Nothing but respect to any mad bastard brave enough to drive that fast in Rio de Janeiro.
(‘Oh,’ Aziraphale says softly, as they stand at the very top of the hill, beneath the vast shadow of Christ the Redeemer, and think back to that promising fellow they saw nailed to the branch in Golgotha, and gaze down, down, down at the green mountains and the glittering city and the sun-blazing sea. ‘Oh, my.’)
They argue about where to go next. Crowley thinks Russia is too cold and Aziraphale thinks India is too hot, but they end up in both anyway. Aziraphale is entranced by a night at the Bolshoi Ballet in Moscow, and they wake one morning in the thick air of a humble guesthouse along the Ganges, smelling the burned offerings of the temple and listening to the splash of bathers and the chittering of the monkeys that stole their curry. They are generally pegged for gormless Englishmen wherever they go, or at least Aziraphale is; something about him just screams bum bag and floral-print shirt. Crowley manages to deter any local trouble by being himself, or if need be, flashing a strategic glimpse of his eyes. Not that that always works. A bunch of clubbers in a neon disco in Rome think it’s very chic.
(Crowley doesn’t like Rome much. He can barely walk round the city without looking like a jitterbug, and Aziraphale refuses to let him pop in on the Pope one morning in his skivvies, give the old man a good jolt. Supposedly it’s romantic, and watching a sunset over the Colosseum, hand in hand, Crowley can admit it’s got that going for it, memories of the lions that used to be big here notwithstanding. Nonetheless, he is relieved to leave.)
‘Look at me,’ Aziraphale beams, having ordered them a scrummy spread in Greece a few days later. ‘Real gentleman of the world, don’t you think, my dear? Pity we can’t see the Parthenon from here, but I suppose I can always – ’
‘If you say so, angel.’ Crowley lights a cigarette and tempts the loudmouth bastard blocking the view to go home and rethink his life. ‘Take another look now.’
They go to New York so Aziraphale can see a Broadway show, whereupon Crowley wonders how America has got into such a mess even with nothing whatsoever to do with him. Wants no part of that, thanks. They pop up to Canada after, which turns out to mostly be more Canada, though Crowley nearly hits a moose driving at ninety miles an hour down an empty highway and that would have good and discorporated both of them. They wind up at a tiny roadside motel where the only sound are the crickets and the distant sigh of passing cars, where it is deep summer and green and slow, and they lie on the bed with Aziraphale’s head on Crowley’s chest and neither of them say a word.
They drive down to San Francisco and fly from there to Tokyo, which delights Aziraphale with its proximity to sushi, clean and precise public transport, and miles of convenience stores to supply every imaginable item. Everyone looks somewhat surprised when he speaks Japanese. Crowley is just tall enough to regard doorways with suspicion, and cannot slack his vigilance when going through them. One such mishap leaves him with something of a lump when they arrive in Istanbul. Aziraphale’s wallet gets pinched in the Grand Bazaar, then after a brief and exciting episode involving a snake head, hastily returned. ‘Mesopotamia,’ Crowley remarks breezily. ‘Always an adventure in these parts, isn’t it, angel?’
They make their way down into Africa, where Crowley insists on paying homage at Freddie Mercury’s hometown in Zanzibar. Aziraphale snaps a photo of him at the sacred site and supposes that will be going into pride of place in a frame back at the cottage. They’re both burnt brown and riotously freckly, at least in Crowley’s case, and Aziraphale has acquired, under his dearest’s expert tutelage, a succession of fashionable sunglasses. They walk along a deserted beach in Cape Verde and sleep curled together in a hammock with waves lapping soft on the sand. Get on a boat headed to some island in the middle of the Atlantic, out in the arse-end of absolutely bloody nowhere, and gaze up at more stars than either of them, a pair of celestial beings, have ever seen in their lives. These do not fall, or burn, or break. The heavens do not brim with fire, nor does hell rise up. The world is at a point of perfect stillness.
‘We should get married,’ Aziraphale says one night, as casually as if it’s something that has only just occurred to him. ‘I mean… for the tax purposes.’
Crowley turns to stare at him as if it is the stupidest thing he’s ever heard. ‘Tax purposes?’
‘I just…’ Aziraphale opens and shuts his mouth. He still owns the bookshop, since he couldn’t bear to part from it, though he’s hired a couple of bright young things to run it. But of course, tax purposes do not actually have a rum thing to do with any of his reasons for asking. ‘If you didn’t… didn’t want...’
Crowley kisses him, hard and sharp and hungry. They don’t say more about it then.
They narrowly escape a hurricane in the Caribbean. They go on a trek through the Andes of South America, whereupon Aziraphale does not enjoy himself at all and has to shout at Crowley to stop leaping up hills like a lizard. They go up to Norway and putter along the fjords, and Crowley gets very drunk and pretends to be Thor. (His hair is growing out again, and he could throw lightning and thunder if he wanted to.) They hop to various cities in Europe on weekend discount-airline deals and go to the Christmas market in the Old Town Square of Prague. The really delightful thing about all this travelling, they discover, is the ability to come home together. Pop along on the train from Luton or Stansted or Gatwick or Heathrow, crunch up the walk with their bags, unlock the door and collect the post on the mat and go into the kitchen, make a nip of supper and crawl into bed together, half-packed suitcases dropped on the floor. It’s a lovely cottage. The houseplants are verdant and properly terrified, and the books cover every flat surface.
‘We should get married,’ Crowley says, on a flowering spring night in Vienna. ‘Horribly antiquated human institution and all that, but…’ He trails off, then shrugs elegantly. ‘Tax purposes.’
‘I thought, my dear,’ Aziraphale says, taking a sip of his wine, ‘that was originally my suggestion.’
Crowley’s yellow eyes sparkle at him. In this light, they are almost gold, rich and depthless, and Aziraphale would be very happy indeed to spend the rest of forever drowning in them. Placidly the demon says, even as his fingers interlock with his angel’s under the table and hold on tight, ‘I have no idea what you’re talking about.’
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bangtan-gal · 4 years
Text
Cupid’s Game pt. 2
So originally this was supposed to be a two-part story, but this got longer than i anticipated and I felt that where I ended was a good place. anyways, merry christmas if you celebrate! Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3
Word Count: 4k Warnings: swearing, fluff, minor angst, pretty chill  Cupid!Hyunjin soulmate!AU fantasy!AU
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“Okay, don’t lie to me, you totally met your soulmate.”
You raised an eyebrow at your little sister as she sat down on your bed. 
“And what makes you think that?” You queried, rolling your eyes. You continued to lay your clothes out on your bed, trying to ignore the fact that you were packing clothes for Hyunjin’s place. Although it was embarrassing to prepare yourself to stay there, you couldn’t just back out. The deal had been made and backing out wasn’t an option. The other two were going through with it and you weren’t going to be selfish about it. 
“You were gone for a whole week, Y/N! Now you come back for two days, just to pack for what seems like a several month long getaway. Why else would you do that? So who is it? Is he nice? Cute? Do you feel stupid now for hating the concept of soulmates?”
You stared at her, thinking about Hyunjin’s explanation of what the soulmate world actually was. A small smile pulled at your lips, knowing that there was someone out there for her. She might never know, but with how much she swoons over the idea, it’s enough to make you happy. 
She laughed, “damn he must be perfect! I see that smile.”
Your eyes rolled and you turned away, grabbing another shirt from your dresser. You looked at the pile of clothes, deflating once you realized that there was enough for the time you would be gone. Teeth grit, you bent down and placed your suitcase on top of the bed. Your sister got up to help you stuff the clothes into the bag and once the two of you were done, she wrapped her arms around your waist. Her head tucked into your chest and you sighed, rubbing her back.
“Hey,” you whispered, “the situation is really weird right now, but I’m not going to be home for a while, okay? I promise when I come back that I’ll explain everything.”
“Okay… see you later then.”
“I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
You threw a few more things into your bag and in an hour you were on your way out the door. Nerves were curling in your stomach as you took a taxi to the train station downtown. People buzzed around you as you navigated your way through the crowded area, looking for the Lincoln platform. Once you saw the sign, you started searching the area and quickly you found Jisung. He leaned against one of the support beams, an equally stuffed suitcase leaning against his legs. You allowed yourself a second to pause, admiring the boy in the quickly fading light. The thought that came to mind was when he kissed you the night before you both went home. The day all three of you agreed to the deal. It had been different—the kiss wasn’t full of sparks, but it still made you feel something. He was softer, more gentle than Hyunjin had been. 
“Look at me,” you huffed, forcing yourself to walk towards him. “Kissing two boys in the span of one week and shamelessly comparing them.”
He noticed you once you were several feet away. Twinkles shone in his eyes as he smiled at you. Your lips pursed and you slowly raised a hand in a cumbersome wave. You wondered if he thought about the kiss a lot too; lately the only thing you’d been able to think of was the feel of both their lips on yours.
“Hey.”
“Hi.” You tottered back and forth on your heels. There was nothing to talk about. He smiled at you for a few seconds longer before he looked down at his hands, cleared his throat, and then his attention was dragged to the people rushing past. 
“Hyunjin said he was going to get us here, right?” He asked, not even looking at you. 
“Yeah, although it’s a bit early… and who knows how much energy he has to put into teleporting around,” you muttered, looking over your shoulder. Nobody that looked particularly like the Cupid. The two of you fell into a hush. Seeing Jisung look nervous shouldn’t have comforted you, but it did. It was comforting knowing that you wouldn’t be the only one going into this wondering what the end result would be and how many troubles you’d go through to get to that point. 
“You two!” 
Your head snapped up, momentarily thinking it was Hyunjin, but the only people approaching you were two men you’d never seen before. Jisung also looked up, eyes narrowed as they approached. The air was crackling as they came closer and your whole body started to vibrate. You could recognize that feeling anywhere—the same feeling you’d gotten when Hyunjin teleported you, the way the air felt heavier every time he walked into a room. It was a feeling of sheer power that no mortal could ever imagine obtaining. You and Jisung exchanged a look, both of you on edge. 
“You’re Hyunjin’s little soulmate, aren’t you?” One of them asked. He was tall, with an oddly shaped face, and dark blue eyes. His hand wrapped a strand of your hair, tugging on it. The grin on his face screamed of nothing good. 
“What do you guys want?” Jisung snapped, stepping closer to you. Both of their gazes zeroed in on him.
“And she’s yours as well,” the other laughed. You frowned, slapping the hand away that held your hair.
“It’s so interesting, isn’t it?” You huffed, “jot it down in your journals so you can always remember it, why don’t you?” You reached down, your hand wrapping around the handle of your luggage. You just wanted Hyunjin to get there so you could leave. There was nothing a brave front could do if it came to something more than just a few teases and nudges. 
 “Do you even know who you’re talking to sweetie? I could rip you into pieces and scatter your atoms into the endless expanse before you could blink.” His finger knocked your chin, knocking your lower teeth into your upper jaw. Your hand twitched at your side, but you were certain that your hardest punch wouldn’t cause any harm. 
Jisung coughed. “Come on n—”
“Can’t you people keep your noses in your own business for once?”
You barely registered the feeling of someone’s hand clamping down tightly on your shoulder before everything was ripped out from beneath you. You stumbled, gasping desperately for air as if you had just been underwater. You sprawled in the middle of Hyunjin’s kitchen, the pristine walls easy to recognize. Jisung knelt beside you, his hand covering his mouth as a pained expression covered his face. A stranger stood behind you, frowning at you when he caught you staring and then grimacing at the place around him.
“You didn’t have to get them.” Hyunjin stepped into the kitchen. His arms were crossed over his chest, eyes zeroed in angrily on the stranger.
“Did you seriously want your soulmate and her… friend? turned into little mush piles? If I hadn’t grabbed them any earlier, you would be able to put your soulmate in a jar and keep it as a creepy table decor,” he huffed, walking around you. You covered your mouth, attempting to disguise your laugh as a cough. Hyunjin sighed, walking over to you and helping you to your feet.  He smiled tightly at you, sending an even colder smile to Jisung, before turning to his supposed friend. 
“Y/N, Jisung, this is Minho. He’s a friend of mine,” he informed. His face was callous as he watched the other Cupid poured himself a glass of whiskey.  Minho turned around, raising his glass in greeting. 
“You should be fucking glad dude. You’re lucky I actually like you, because if I was any other asshole Cupid, I would’ve just kept walking. I might have even stopped and filmed the whole thing to keep in my collection of ‘look how weak humans are.”
Hyunjin rolled his eyes, grabbing the glass from Minho’s grip.
“Well, thanks for the visit, but it’d be nice of you to leave,” he chirped and then Minho was gone. He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose before turning to the two of you. “Let’s put your stuff away and then eat something. And I suppose we should talk.”
You muttered an ‘okay’ before you dragged your bag to your room. You and Jisung still shared a room, Hyunjin continuing to claim he only had two bedrooms in the whole castle. And truthfully, you trusted Jisung more than you did Hyunjin. After you tossed your suitcase beside the bed, your gaze caught on the contract resting on the nightstand. The sight of it made your stomach turn. You shouldn’t have been annoyed by the deal: you’d been apart of the making, it still disturbed you knowing that you all had to sign a piece of paper. 
“I’m surprised you agreed to all the terms.”
Jisung walked in after you, much more gentle about placing his luggage down. His eyes strayed to the yellow page, ending with all three of your signatures. 
“I felt that it was fair—the deal anyways. It would’ve been unfair of me to not do it anyways,” you grumbled, “the whole point of this is to give me time to get to know the two of you. There wouldn’t be a contract if it weren’t for me.”
“I ‘spose so… although you have to be honest that it felt overdone when we signed it,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair. You shrugged, partially agreeing with that statement.  But you felt that Hyunjin’s demands were made by the same fear that all three of you felt deep down. The anxiety filled question: would any of you be happy at the end of these three months?
The two of you were quiet as you left the room, making your way down the kitchen. Hyunjin waited for you two, sitting on the counter as he flipped through a book.  The kitchen lights highlighted his cheekbones and sharp jawline. His eyelashes fluttered as he looked up, his eyes crinkled when he noticed you staring at him. You bit your lip, fighting back a smile that begged to be seen. 
“Well,” he hummed, shutting the book and hopping off the counter. “I recently got the news that our Winter Salutation is next week. It’s… like a celebration of the coming of winter. It’s a week long event, with dancing, lots of food… and hundreds of Cupids. I have to attend, but you guys do not, but if you would like, you are welcome to come.”
“A week long celebration?” Jisung asked, “where is it?”
Hyunjin paused, glancing between you two. Then he sighed. 
“The King’s palace.”
You frowned, leaning against the counter. His expression was unnerving you. There was no excitement; a look that should’ve been there for such a celebration. Hyunjin caught your narrowed stare and then let out a shaky breath. He brushed his hair out of his face. 
“I am worried. Cupid’s… are very superstitious. Events where a Cupid has a soulmate worries them and with a situation like ours, I doubt very many are happy. Bringing you two along could go badly,” he explained, starting to shift from foot to foot.  You lifted your chin, eyeing Jisung out of the corner of your eye before you looked directly at the dark-haired boy. 
“Who cares, I’ll go.”
Jisung opened his mouth and Hyunjin coughed. 
“They could kill you Y/N,” Jisung whispered.
“Or worse, keep you alive,” Hyunjin muttered. Jisung exclaimed an ‘exactly!’ motioning to the Cupid. You shrugged. The deal was that the three of you would spend three months together, getting to know one another, and only then would any decisions be made. And you would be spending every single second together. 
“If I stay with you Hyunjin, I assume I’ll be going to these celebrations once a year? I may as well get a taste of it before I decide,” you huff. You weren’t looked at Jisung, but you knew the two boys were exchanging a worried, wordless conversation. “And Jisung, if I go, you have to go too.”
You raised an eyebrow. He opened his mouth and then it closed it with a grimace.
“Something tells me there’s no fighting you.”
You smiled. 
✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦  
“I don’t get it, why can’t we just teleport to the castle? Why take a train?” 
You looked away from the window, where you could see the oddity which was the Cupid world. The place was as fantastical as it got. You probably could have  guessed that from what you saw of Hyunjin’s home, but you’d never exactly seen the outside world. During the day, the sky was a pinkish-orange and at night it was a very deep, blood red. Bubbles of water floated in the sky, the trees were extremely tall with leaves that were more blue than green, and the grass was tall and thick enough to hide a sasquatch. That was also how you discovered that although Hyunjin looked like a human, he was definitely not the weight of a regular boy his size. He was as light as air, being able to walk a top the grass sprigs without it even bending under his weight. It was useful, considering the grass was at least ten feet tall. 
“We have rules that we abide by, just as you have laws,” the Cupid explained. He wasn’t into the conversation at all as he watched the landscape zoom by, his thoughts far away. “The King isn’t very fond of us just jumping into his land. It is surrounded by magic runes that won’t let anyone pass through by means of teleportation. 
“We have one more stop before we arrive at the entrance gate. There will be soldiers that for a mandatory check. I suggest you don’t be brats—Cupid’s are assholes in general, but most especially towards humans. Don’t give them a reason to tear you apart.”
“Is that advice for the whole week?” You asked sarcastically. 
Hyunjin met your gaze for a second before looking back out the window. “Royals and soldiers have no reason to show respect to me and my guests. Other Cupid’s will and they know it would be stupid to lay any aggression-filled finger on you.”
“Does that count for me too, or is that just Y/N?” Jisung butt in. You laughed a bit at that, the two you exchanging a look. His lips quirked to the side.  Hyunjin sighed, sounding exasperated but the way his lips twitched, struggling to hide a smile, it was clear he enjoyed the banter.
“Jisung, you may not be my soulmate but you are apart of Y/N’s life,” he hummed, “and also, I’m not a dick.”
You smiled, leaning your head back against the seat and going back to look out the window. The landscape was losing its country feel and slowly turning into a forest. The trees grew thicker and different types started to appear. Some reminded you of pine trees, others looked like the trees from the Lorax, and different types of leaf shapes and colors sat on trees. It was then that you saw the first ever living creature that didn’t replicate a human. An odd, skinny, dark purple, six-legged creature swung from a tree branch. Another smaller one sat on a branch nearby, bouncing up and down. 
You blinked, looking towards Hyunjin.
“Do you guys have dragons here?” 
He looked up, eyebrows tightening as he fought back a smile. 
“No, although we do have unicorns and and pegasi,” he chuckled.
Your mouth dropped open, but you were unable to form a response to that. Was this the place that humans got that idea from?
“Are there other humans here?” You asked. Hyunjin nodded, resting his chin in his hand. “A lot?”
He exhaled.
“Truthfully, I wouldn’t know. Many of them are a Cupid’s soulmate, but several are just here. You’ll probably see a few at the celebration”—he paused, scratching his nose—“I guess I have to warn you though: Cupid’s are protective over their soulmate. I suggest not talking to them unless they engage first or if the Cupid seems fine with it.”
You frowned at that, but didn’t have the heart to argue.  This place wasn’t earth and Cupid’s weren’t humans. Society and its structure were different here. And as much as you wished you weren’t, you weren’t the strong one here. You were the prey and you couldn’t go challenging everything. 
The train screeched to a stop, a cracky voice coming out over the speakers to announce a fifteen minute stop. Hyunjin stood up, stretching out and then stepping into the aisle. Jisung had fallen asleep and was peacefully snoozing away. The Cupid warily looked around, surveying the nearby Cupids. Last time you and Jisung had been without Hyunjin was on earth and you still got attacked by Cupids; that wasn’t very promising considering you were on their territory now. 
“If anything starts happening—even if it’s just someone staring at you for more than a few seconds—just think of me. I’ll be able to hear it and I’ll back right away.”
You nodded, unintentionally scooting closer to Jisung as the boy walked away. A few looked over at you, but most of them looked uninterested. The few that looked at you were distracting by the doors opening and the upstart that came with it. The train had been mostly empty, but filled quickly as groups of Cupids boarded. Most passed by your seats without a care, chattering excitedly about the upcoming celebration. A trio moved through the aisle, looking for seats, and sneered when they saw you two. 
“Oi, move along pals, unless you want Hyunjin to come back and rip the skin from your skull and feel you to a Banshee,” a familiar snapped. The three scurried away and Minho stood in front of you two, sighing at the sight of you. He dropped into the bench across from you, not paying any attention to you two as he glared at anyone that looked your way. 
��Damn, how many times do I have to save you two? Why can’t Hyunjin just keep an eye on you?” 
Minho stared at you as if you’d have an answer.
“Don’t act like a superhero when you aren’t one Minho, those three weren’t stupid enough to actually touch them,” Hyunjin said, appearing beside the other Cupid. Minho raised an eyebrow but didn’t argue. 
“I don’t get it. They attacked us on Earth, but why not here?” 
“It’s because I’m closer and it’ll be easier for me to get here and wreak havoc,” he deadpanned. You blinked, opening your mouth to ask why again, but Minho had an answer before you could even question.
“Little Hyunjinnie here is the Prince and everyone knows that if they got caught, they’d not only have to face his wrath, but the whole Royal family and army behind him.”
It went silent. Your eyes darted to Hyunjin, narrowing as the boy stared at his lap. Of course he was a prince. It just kept getting better. You bit your lip, deciding not to get into it yet. He hadn’t told you for whatever reason, but now you knew. Maybe he was hoping to get your love without the help of his title.
Or that would be that big reveal if you rejected him.
Minho seemed to realize what he revealed and sheepishly glanced at Hyunjin before he cleared his throat and the three of you dropped into a dead peace. The hour left of the train ride went by uncomfortably slow and you had never been more glad to get off. 
Hyunjin lead the three of you past the lines up to the gate where the soldiers stood. Your gaze went from the tall, shining gates to the castle that was a football field behind it. You gaped at the size of it and the glory of it. It was tall, the towers and spires reaching into the clouds. It was a faint purple stone and it seemed to glow. And you had thought Hyunjin’s mansion was huge, but compared to this place, it could pass as a hut.
“Prince Hyunjin!” The soldiers saluted, bowing to him. 
“Just cut the formalities, why don’t you, and let’s get this over with,” he huffed, handing them his bag. He motioned for you and Jisung to do the same. You watched nervously, hating how they tore through your suitcase only to carelessly place the stuff back and messily zip it back up. They waved you through and you snatched your bag from them and stomped after Hyunjin.
The walk to the castle was just as quiet as the last hour of the ride had been, but it was more tense. Hyunjin seemed to get more nervous the closer you got. Right before you stepped through the large-ass, fancy doors he paused and turned to Minho.
“Can you take them to my room please? I don’t trust my parents enough for the them to meet without any witnesses around.”
You glanced at Hyunjin before Minho grabbed your hand and you were pulled through space. Minho disappeared the second you landed in the room, leaving you and Jisung alone in Hyunjin’s room. You let your suitcase drop to the floor and spun in a full circle to take in your surroundings. It was huge—although you expected nothing less. But as you studied the room carefully, your heart stammered. You didn’t know Hyunjin this well, but looking at the empty, tasteless place, it didn’t hint at him at all. This wasn’t a home; it was a cage.
The bed sat at its, two redwood nightstands placed on either side. A thin bench sat on the end, a dark red carpet underneath it and spreading from one side of the room to the other. Two doors were on the far wall, one slightly open to reveal what looked to be a big closet. A huge portrait of three people was on the wall and that was about it. The room was mostly empty, no decorations, no posters, no unexplainable dents in the wall. Not even a desk or wardrobe full of personal belongings. It looked like a prince’s room; and Hyunjin was a prince.
You walked over to the portrait, immediately recognizing the middle person to be a much younger looking Hyunjin. The two others could only be his parents: he looked like the woman and had the man’s smile. You found yourself smiling too as you stared longer at his younger self. His eyes still had the same twinkle and his lips still had the same quirk.
“Looks like the only thing that changed was him learning to style his hair,” Jisung commented. You looked at him, expecting to find him staring at the picture like you had been, but instead he was staring at you. He held your stare and then shrugged. “The way you smile when you look at him is cute.”
You scoffed.
“I am not like some love-sick, school girl!” 
“I never said you were”—Jisung raised his brows—“but you have a smile reserved for him. You can try to claim all you want that there’s nothing there, but there are times when he’s talking and you just get this dreamy, smiley look that proves otherwise.”
Your lips pulled down and you turned away from the picture, marching back over to your suitcase. Sure, Hyunjin was attractive and he had some good qualities, but that wasn’t enough for you to have some lovey-dovey smile every time you saw him. Continue to deny it , but you’re falling for him. You paused zipping open the suitcase, your heart jumping at the sound of your own voice telling you different. 
Both of them. 
You looked up, watching as Jisung curiously opened the closet door and started shuffling through the clothes. Then you looked to the family portrait. Were you really going to be forced to decide between the two of them?
Hyunjin teleported into the room. He looked disgruntled.
“Well,” he huffed, clapping his hands together, “I hope the two of you are ready for the celebration of your lives.” 
213 notes · View notes
mypersonalrambling · 5 years
Text
Feelings Shouldn’t Remain Hidden
Tumblr media
Warnings: Language, Smut/Sexual themes, Insecurities
Pairings: Alex x Reader
Requested: By no one
Author’s note: I have been working on this for months. I hope it’s up to par :)
Plopping down on the couch, you let out an exasperated sigh. Finally, you were done cleaning the apartment from top to bottom. It was hard keeping everything straightened with you working full time and Alex always off filming or doing some sort of press. He helped as much as he could, however, it was easier for him to trash the place rather than clean it. Not more than an hour later Alex came stumbling through the door covered in sweat, looking ragged. 
“God, my back is killing me,” Alex groans as soon as the door shuts behind him. He’s been working out extra lately to keep up his shape. He loves the way his trainer pushed him when he was working out to be Ivar. Flopping down on the couch, he throws his gym bag just far enough to be out of the way. “I don’t know if I want to keep this regime up.”
“Yes you do, now stop complaining.” You can’t help but roll your eyes. Alex loves working out yet complains every time he does. You look over to see his face pressed into the couch, an arm and a leg hanging off the side, and was pretty sure there was a 95 percent chance he was asleep.
“Don’t roll your eyes at me,” he grumbles, his face never leaving the couch.
“I didn’t,” you reply wondering how in the hell he could tell when his face was surely imprinted into the cushion by now.
For the first time since he got home, he lifts his face from the couch, “Yeah and I’m not sore from this damn workout,” the statement laced with sarcasm.
“I don’t know whatever you could mean,” you claim, taking a huge gasp for emphasis, “I’ll give you a back massage if you’d like.” It wasn’t that you minded listening to him complain, it was more if Alex had wanted to quit he would have already. He let out a groan while standing up, the thought of a massage sounding heavenly. While Alex settles in,  you grab some oil wanting to relax him as much possible. When you walk out of the bathroom, he was lying on your bed in just his grey sweatpants.
Fuck, could he look any better? The muscles of his back are defined, but not so much so to seem too overdone. Alex had the perfect body, at least to you anyway. Although you knew most of your attraction came from his personality. He was warm, fuzzy yet rough around the edges. He could make you laugh until tears were pouring down your face but also able to protect you given the circumstances called for it.
You climb up to rest on the left side of him, dropping a little oil onto his back. Even though you’d been friends with Alex for a while, you didn’t want to cross any boundaries he may have, so instead of straddling him, you decide to stay to his side. You were able to tell his lower back was the tensest, thus starting there. “Doll, why are you sitting like that?”
“Uh, I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable or hurt you...” you trail off. He rolls to one side raising an eyebrow at you, clearly wondering what was going on in your head.
“One you’d never hurt me and two why would it be uncomfortable? Would it make you uncomfortable?” No, it would be more like a dream come true. Alex is smart, talented and attractive of course you’d pictured yourself doing many activities like this...well maybe with a little less clothing. “Y/N?”
“Uh, no it doesn’t make me uncomfortable,” you were able to stutter. Throwing a leg over him so now you were straddling his ass. You work your fingers into his back, paying special attention to the spots that had the tightest knots. Kneading a particularly sore spot, Alex let out a grunt, “Sorry, too hard?”
“No, no keep going.” You took his word and dug a little harder, knowing it was going to take a little work for it to release. After his muscle relaxes a bit, you began working on the rest of his back. His muscles, tensing then relaxing, “Ughhhh your fingers are magic,” he moans. That's not the only thing that’s magic, you thought. His moans become harder and harder to ignore. You knew he wasn’t doing them intentionally, but you couldn’t help basking in the fact you were the cause of them. You didn’t realize how much the moans were affecting you until Alex mentioned, “If you’re gonna do that, let me turn over.”
“Huh?” You question his statement bringing you out of your trance.
“If you’re gonna grind down on me like that, I’ll turn over.” You could tell he was smirking even without seeing his face. Alex has always been a cheeky shit, but usually, it was playful and meaningless or so you’d thought. Little did you know Alex had been trying to feel you out for months, trying to see if he could tell how you felt about him. He’d mention wanting to go to a fancy restaurant or bringing you gifts for no reason. When you didn’t catch on he’d assumed it was because you didn’t want to hurt his feelings. After a few months, he’d given up and accepting the two of you as friends.
“Oh my god, I’m so sorry,” you claim, rushing to maneuver yourself off his back. 
“I...uhhh...I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to.” Subconsciously your hands move to cover your face, hoping to hide as much embarrassment as possible. You couldn’t help shifting your weight from side to side. This had to be in the top two embarrassing moments of your life, the only thing worse was when you had managed to trip, fall, and knock over a waitress holding drinks the first time you met The Vikings cast.
It was almost infuriating how flustered Alex was making you feel. You weren’t shy about sex, actually, you were frequently assertive. Sex was always a pleasant, exciting activity, the only other time you can ever remember being this apprehensive was when you lost your virginity and that was only due to being afraid they would see you as incompetent.
The bed shifted slightly Alex moving into a different position. Taking a deep breath you move your hands knowing eventually you would have to face him. Alex was again on his side, your eyes quickly training on the bulge in his pants. Try as you might you couldn’t get your eyes to stray from it. “Touch it, I know you want to.” Without a second thought, you reach a hand out to stroke him over his sweatpants. “Fuck,” he moans, grinding into your hand. You situate your body so you were lying next to him, your feet at his head. Reaching for the waistband you quickly find out he wasn’t wearing anything underneath. His cock sprung out bouncing towards his stomach. It was beautiful, long, veiny, with plenty of girth. The head was pink and leaking precum.
You couldn’t help but stare, wondering what to do now. There wasn’t a fiber of your being that didn’t want to wrap your lips around him until his come was running down your throat. Now that there was nothing between him and you, you couldn’t help but become hesitant. What if he thought you were terrible or didn’t like what you did? Alex made you feel as if you’d never even seen a penis and it was frankly annoying that he was able to have this power over you. 
Your hips buck forward when Alex’s fingers ghost over your clothed core, your thin shorts not providing much protection. “You’re loving this Prinsesse, I can smell you from here.” His face mere inches from you, the pet name causing a flutter in your stomach. He was always affectionate, giving you little nicknames, but this was different. His tone was deep, sultry, goosebumps spreading across your body. “Prinsesse?” This time he was more hesitant, unsure of himself. 
The air was thick with sexual tension, his fingers resting on your upper thigh only slightly moved from their previous position. His cock was inches from your face and was angry, red, begging to be touched. Mustering every ounce of confidence, you wrap your lips around his tip. The sounds escaping his lips encouraged you even more. You took as much of him into your mouth as physically possible. At first, your pace was quick, wanting Alex to reach his high, you wanted nothing more than have him fill your throat with come. “Slow down,” his voice was soft, barely above a whisper. Taking heed you slow down, almost letting him slip completely out of your mouth.
During this time you were swirling your tongue around his tip, but only for a second before completely taking him out to lick a long stripe down his length. A split-second decision later, you had one of his balls in your mouth and hand wrapped around his cock. Moments later a hand landed on the back your head, gripping a fist full of your hair. “Ah, so...good,” his words barely audible. You couldn’t help but make a show of popping one ball out of your mouth to suck on the other. This was the part you loved, hearing the moans, watching them come undone beneath you. His moans were gravelly, breathless causing you to clench your legs tight, trying to relieve the pressure.
The second time Alex touched you, he was more aggressive. Instead of merely grazing his fingers over you, he moved his hand in a leg of your shorts until his hand was resting over your panties. Although it wasn’t long before his hands were underneath touching your bare skin. His fingers ghosting over your entrance, using his middle and index fingers gathering your wetness. Much to your displeasure, Alex slipped his hand out bringing his fingers to his lips causing him to emit a growl. Before you had a moment to gather what was going on, Alex moved from your grasp, his sweatpants sliding down his calves, pooling at his feet. He kicked them off quickly, taking the next few moments to tug at your clothes.
Alex has you bare in no time, legs spread allowing him to gaze at everything. You felt as if you were on display with him inspecting every inch of you. His eyes were looking at you in your entirety, his bottom lip between his teeth, his pupils dilated making his eyes appear almost black. Subconsciously your arms fold themselves over your stomach, it didn’t last long Alex immediately moving them, “Stop, I want to see every part of you.” Something in his tone brought almost all of your confidence back to your body. A warm, comfortable feeling washing over you. All of your muscles that had been previously tense, relaxed. He took notice of this, more in tune with you and your body than usual, “There’s my girl, I knew you were there under that nervousness.”
You try to take some control, but he wasn’t having any of it. His dominance radiating throughout the room, making a warmth spread within you. He was still kneeling near your feet, making no movements. When you didn’t think you could take it any longer, he began placing kisses on your right ankle working his way up until he was centimeters from your core. Thinking he was going to pay attention to where you want him most, he, however, had different plans. He continued by placing kisses down your left leg. Just after he had finished his trail of your lower body, he made a move as to now hover above you.
He continued his onslaught of kisses, now at your neck, taking extra time to leave a mark on your collarbone. Time was seemingly in slow motion, every time Alex touched your skin, you felt a fire. His lips seem to be everywhere at once, your breasts, your stomach, no place left untouched. There was a time when you thought Alex’s onslaught would never end. You were unsure if he loved to see squirm or if he simply couldn’t get enough of your body. After every mark, Alex would lightly kiss the mark. “Alex, please…I need you…” your voice trails off, instead you grab a handful of his hair pushing him to your aching center.
His lips curl into a smirk, “Min pige knows what she wants. Who am I to deny her?” Alex slid his tongue along your folds, whimpering at the taste. “Mmmm I knew you would be sweet.” Your eyes closed when he brushes his tongue over your clit. His licks are playful, almost kitten-like. Alex seems to never get enough of teasing you, taking enjoyment in watching you squirm. Finally, he took the opportunity to wrap his lips around your clit sucking as if his life depended on it.
Not long after he thrust two fingers, curling them almost instantly, seeming to take no time in finding your g-spot. Once he did there was no letting up. He barely came up for air, determined to make you come, the only thing on his mind. Alex alternates between wrapping his lips around your clit and licking between your folds. His assault was quick paced, having the same amount of urgency as you did moments ago. Beads of sweat roll down your face, your hands clenching the once-crisp sheets, the tightening in your stomach becoming too prominent to ignore. Your orgasm crashes over you, overwhelming your entire body, whimpering a soft fuck as you come down.
Alex never stops his movements, riding out your orgasm. He licks every last drop of your juices, being cautious of your sensitivity. All the while you can only lie there, trying not to yelp at every touch. When he was satisfied he pushes himself to hover above you, face wet with your juices, however, this makes him more irresistible. You pull him into a heated kiss, grabbing a handful of his hair, able to feel his cock pressing against your thigh. Instinctively you begin grinding, trying anything to gain more friction.
Both of you pull away breathless, Alex leans over to open one of the draws on the nightstand searching for a condom.  The usual confident Alex is mixed with a man with nerves. He fumbles with packaging, finally using his teeth to open it. It took him several tries to correctly put the condom on. Usually, you’d be ecstatic that a partner chose to wear a condom without being asked, however, you couldn’t help but feel a little disappointment, wishing to be as close to Alex as possible.
He shifts so he’s once more hovering above you, “Ready?” He whispers, his lips ghosting over your ear. You give a short nod, the anticipation killing you. You’ve thought about this for ages; the feel of his skin against yours, how he would stretch you, how he’d look thrusting into you. Alex teases your folds, collecting your wetness, he lets out a deep moan. A desperate whimper from you broke him out of his trance, he lines himself up, thrusting his entire length at once. He gives you a moment to adjust, before starting a slow pace.
Alex pulls almost completely out before slamming into you. You could already feel the jostle in your bones. He steadily watches himself move in and out, not wanting to miss a single movement. “Fuck, you’re so tight. I...want…” He trails off, shifting so one of your legs is over his shoulder. You were able to feel him even deeper, harder, each thrust sliding you towards the headboard, little by little. He pulls out, staring at his cock.
“Is everything okay?” You question, thinking you’ve done something wrong. Were you not doing enough? Did he realize he didn’t want to continue? Your thoughts were racing, hard to process one before another popped up in its place.
“No. I just… want to take this condom off.” His voice breathless and pleading. Instead of responding you lean over to take it off of him. “You don’t care?”
“No, I didn’t want you to use it in the first place, but didn’t know how you’d react.” You were sure the mood was ruined, that was until you saw Alex’s face. His eyes dark, his jaw clenched, his bottom lip caught between his teeth. He pushes you until you were lying on your back, throwing both of your legs over his shoulders, thrusting his entire length into you, hard, giving you no time to adjust. His pace was quicker, harsher, more determined to make you come. “God...you feel like heaven,” he growls, each word accompanied by a thrust.
He angles himself just right finding your g-spot. Alex becomes more ruthless, the only sounds in the room are his hips slamming into yours and heavy breathing. He has a tight hold on your hip, bruises surely forming. You know he’s reaching his high quickly, becoming clumsy, his breathing more labored. Using his other hand, he reaches down applying pressure to your bundle of nerves; almost immediately you clench around him. “Come for me YN.” Hearing those instructions pushes you over the edge. You’re clenching tightly around him, so much so he can barely move.
Even though neither of you wanted a condom between, Alex pulls out, stroking himself not wanting to risk anything. As quickly as you can, you maneuver so your face is level with his cock. You take control, taking most of him into your mouth, tasting your juices. You look up as best you could to see a look of disbelief. He places a hand on your head, wrapping your hair around his fingers, “So nasty.” It didn’t take long for Alex to come undone, spurts of come filling your throat. Once you were sure you swallowed every drop, you slowly let his length out of your mouth. Both of you stay still, wanting to cherish the moment.
Finally, you move so you’re sitting with your back against the headboard. Alex lays his head in your lap, wrapping his arms around your waist. You run your fingers through his hair admiring the softness. You wished he hadn’t cut it, but thought he looked lovely nonetheless. “Y/N, how long have you felt this way?”
“I...I’ve had feelings for a while. There were so many times I wanted to tell you, but I was terrified you wouldn’t feel the same then things would become awkward. Alex I didn’t want to lose you as a friend. I know it was a chance meeting, but A, we clicked almost instantly. For a while I let myself believe there was a chance of you feeling the same way, but the longer we were friends the more I began to think that’s all we’d ever be. You don’t know what it’s like to want someone astronomically out of your league. I didn’t want to make a fool of myself if you didn’t feel the same, it’s embarrassing to admit your feelings when there’s a chance the other person doesn’t reciprocate.”
Alex situated so he was looking up at you, “My pige, I’m not out of your league, not even a little. I see you as out of my league. I was afraid you only wanted me as a friend after all the comments I’d made trying to feel you out. You either were oblivious to them or talked yourself into believing you were reading too much into things. Or maybe I wasn’t being obvious enough. I feel like we’ve wasted so much time, we could have been doing this for months now. Don’t take that the wrong way, I love being your friend regardless. But that was...wow, it was better than I’d ever imagined.”
“You imagined us having sex?” This shouldn’t be shocking after the events that had just taken place but it made you feel sexy. It made you feel as if nothing could stop you. It showed you that Alex was a normal person just like anyone else, not as if you didn’t know that already.
“You have no idea. Oh god, especially when you wear leggings and act like you don’t know they make you look fucking gorgeous. So many times I wanted to just bend you over and smack your ass, show you the appreciation you deserve. But I also want to cuddle, protect you, and show you even more of the appreciation you deserve.”
He turns over so he can kiss the many marks he’d made tonight. He inches closer and closer to your core, his nose ghosting over it, teasing until he thought you couldn’t take it any longer, “Alex, if you keep doing that. We’re going to end up not leaving this bed.”
“What’s wrong with that?” His face between your legs before you can answer. You weren’t sure what would happen between the two of you. All you knew was the two of you weren’t leaving this bed anytime soon.
467 notes · View notes
sadienita · 4 years
Text
A Garden In Spring
Hansol x Gardener!Reader
Word Count: 7.4k
Genre: Fluff, Angst
Contents: strangers to friends to lovers, themes based on greek mythology, major character death
For @gamerwoo I swear I try to write you angst and I end up with horror. I try to write you fluff and I end up with this. This was the result of trying to put too many ideas together. I do hope that you like it. We’ve been friends for over a year and a half now and you really are so very near and dear to my heart. You’re such a creative, inventive, talented, and wickedly funny woman and it is an absolute pleasure to know you. Merry Christmas, Roo.
You didn’t mind spending your days weeding and tending to the plants. You loved it actually. Even though it could get busy in town from time to time you really were in your own little world as you worked on the town’s garden’s. They had had other gardeners, but you were very proud that the town was buzzing about how nice the gardens looked this year now that they were under your care. You had changed them up a little, picking different types of flowers and rearranging the beds from the same sorts of things that had been in them the last few years.
Although, you may have very nearly overdone it with the sunflowers.
You really couldn’t help it. Sunflowers were your favourites. They were beautiful and bright and cheery, and you thought they were really brightening up the town as they started to bloom. You had planted them in nearly every flower bed but you were loving it. Everywhere you turned this year there was a bright, sunny face to greet you. It wasn't as if anyone had complained, in fact people were in good spirits over the gardens.
You were in your own little world as you worked on the gardens in your favourite park. A familiar form in a black hoodie caught your eye. The same boy who always seemed to drop by when you worked in the park. Maybe he just liked to spend his days there, taking in the sights and the calm of the park, especially mid week. He did seem to always be around and you did want to talk to him. He looked nice, you’d only seen his smile once but it was kind, and he seemed to admire your gardens. But you were a little too shy to actually approach him. Maybe he would come to you.
“He’s staring at you again.”
You jumped, your friend’s voice breaking you from your thoughts. She normally showed up on her off days to see you, thought she was insistent that the boy was looking at you. You could feel the heat creeping up your cheeks as your heart calmed from the sudden scare.
“You keep saying that,” you muttered.
“Well he is,” she stated simply. “I think he wants to make it look like he’s looking at the gardens but it’s definitely you.”
You shook your head with a nervous chuckle. “I really doubt it’s me.”
She rolled her eyes. “He’s been showing up all spring, he even almost came over one day. Why don’t you just go say hi?”
“That’s not going to happen,” you said. “And besides, I’m working.”
“Aren’t you always saying you want to date someone? I bet he’d say yes if you ask him out.”
“I can’t just go over there and ask him out!”
“Of course you can!” she groaned frusteredly.
You grabbed your weeding pail. “I can’t. And I’m done here for today.”
She sighed, crossing her arms and shaking her head before leaving you be. You went to empty the pail, catching sight of him again. His hands were buried in his pockets and when you looked at him he looked down quickly. You bit down on your lip, knowing you didn’t have nearly enough courage to talk to him. You felt yourself deflate just a bit at the way he started in your direction before stopping himself.
Whether he wanted to talk to you or not, you both seemed a little hopeless.
----
You saw the boy nearly every day for the next week. He always seemed to know which gardens you were at. Of course they were all public so it was possible that he was just admiring them and you happened to be working on that one that day. But you had to wonder what he did. Did he have a job? If he worked nights why would he be up all day and out in the bright sun as opposed to sleeping?
You realized you were thinking about him far too much as you nearly knocked over your pail, piled high with weeds. You were getting far too distracted at the moment. Usually working on the gardens calmed you but today you were spending far too much of your brain power on the cute boy in the black hoodie that was…
That was coming this way.
You turned towards your flowers quickly, hoping he was just leaving, maybe he had to pass by you. Or maybe he was meeting someone else here? Maybe he had seen them and he was on his way over to see them.
You weren’t sure why you didn’t much like that idea.
“H-Hey.”
You froze. He was definitely right behind you and he was definitely talking to you too. Maybe your friend was right. Maybe he really had been looking at you.
“Hi,” your voice was small as you slowly turned to face him.
He looked a little nervous, his hands stuffed in his pockets and a shy smile on his face.
“Your gardens are beautiful,” he said.
You glanced at the flowers. “O-Oh, thanks. I mean, I know there’s a lot of sunflowers this year, but…” 
He grinned. “I love them. They’re so sunny and, happy. They really do brighten my day.”
You couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face. “I’m so happy to hear that.” 
You fell quiet, wanting to say more but not sure what. You were thankful he picked up the conversation.
“Did you do the gardens all by yourself?”
“Yeah, I mean it was a lot of work but I got to pick all the flowers and design the gardens so…”
“That’s really cool,” he grinned.
He moved to lean on the edge of the flower bed. You relaxed more and more as he talked to you. He asked about every flower in the bed, soaking in every detail of what you said. It made you happy that he really did seem interested in what you had to say. You slowly got back to work, weeding and watering and tending to the beds as he chattered with you until you had finished your work and he bid you goodbye.
You only learned that his name was Hansol. You didn’t know if he even liked flowers or if he was just being kind. But either way, it left a smile on your face for the rest of the day.
----
Hansol and you became very fast friends. Once the initial awkwardness was gone the conversation flowed so well. He never told you too much about himself. You never learned where he was from but he said he worked weird hours and often at night, even still he liked to spend his days taking in the gardens.
He did tell you he was hopeless with plants. He could never get anything to grow. He told you he admired your green thumb, your ability to bring life and he liked being surrounded by it all the time. It made you wonder about him, about what might have happened to give him that sort of outlook. You thought it might be too intrusive to ask, but you wondered.
“I’m sorry I’m late,” Hansol jogged towards you. “I got caught up with something.”
“It’s cool,” you chuckled. “I really just started on this bed.”
He sat on the edge of it. “Do- I mean can I help with weeding or something?”
You could feel a blush creeping up your cheeks. “You don’t have to.”
“I know I just- You always work so hard and I just sit here so I feel like it’s the least I could do, helping you out.”
“Then sure,” you chuckled.
You pointed out what the weeds looked like and Hansol started to work. His hands were very careful as he grabbed each weed and pulled it from the soil.
“How did you start gardening?” he asked quietly as he worked.
You shrugged. “There were always flowers around growing up, flower gardens and wild flowers. I liked them. I liked how calm I felt working around them. It was easy enough to learn what they needed and with some attention and love they really thrive. I started with a few plants at home and it just grew and grew each year. They’ve sort of overrun my cottage at this point, but they just make me so much happier than a bare yard.”
“You really find it easy to keep so many plants alive?” he questioned.
“It’s not all that hard, even when they’re sick. Plants don’t need too much, you just have to learn how much water and sunlight they need and put them in the right spot.”
“I think it’s incredible,” Hansol mumbled. “I can’t keep anything alive and you,” he looked up at you from his weeding. “You have such a gift for it.”
“I wouldn’t call it a gift,” you mumbled, feeling a little flustered. “And what’s got you so mushy today anyway?”
You watched a blush rise up his cheeks. “I don’t know, I just think you have a talent or something.” He peeked at you again. “I want to see your home gardens though, they sound cool.”
You smiled. “Definitely.”
----
It was only about a week later that Hansol was coming over to view your gardens. You had some work to do today anyways so you thought it would be nice. You could hang out in the garden and chat about whatever and work on weeding and watering everything. You had even baked muffins for a snack once the work was done.
You felt strangely nervous as you waited out near your front gate. You didn’t need to though, it was just Hansol. He was your friend so you had no clue why anxiety was bubbling in your stomach. He had told you a number of times that he liked your gardens in town and even though he could be making that up, he did come to look at them far before talking actually talking to you. It wasn’t as if he would judge them. 
You didn’t really think it was that anyway.
You looked down at your clothes. You weren’t wearing anything particularly cute so maybe that was it? But you never did since you spent your days working in dirt. He had seen you in similar pairs of old jeans before, similar stained shirts that were perfect for working outside.
So what were you so nervous for?
“Hey!”
Hansol’s voice broke you out of your thoughts as he made his way down the street. It seemed no matter how warm it got, even as you rolled into the later days of summer, he always wore the same black hoodie. You swore you never saw him in anything else. The one time you’d teased him about he just chuckled and told you he liked it, and he was always cold anyways so it was a good choice.
“You’re here,” you couldn’t help the smile that broke out across your face.
“You sound surprised,” he snorted. “As if I wouldn’t show.”
You could feel the heat creeping up your cheeks as you nudged his arm. Some part of your mind registered how he stiffened at your touch. “Hey, I don’t know. Maybe you’re just being nice.”
Hansol rolled his eyes. “Yeah I’m faking being your friend and helping you work in the dirt when I could be sleeping.”
His joking tone eased your anxiety just a little. “Okay, well when you put it like that.”
You led Hansol into your garden and felt more heat creep up your cheeks as he started to marvel at the plants. It wasn’t as if it was over the top, or maybe it was. At this point you had so many flowers and trees in your yard you forgot that it was very out of the ordinary. You had paths winding through the gardens and the trees gave you enough shade to enjoy your garden on a day like this.
“You did this all on your own?!” he asked in disbelief as you led him through the gardens.
“I mean, yeah, I know it’s a lot…”
“It’s really beautiful,” he said quietly. “There’s so much life here.”
You chuckled a bit. “Hansol, you know you’ve seen plants before, right?”
He shook his head. “This really is something else though. How do you keep them all alive?”
“I know what they each need,” you stopped near your house. “I give them what they need. They’re planted where they’ll get the right amount of sun and I water them and take out the weeds and they grow. And a lot of them stay year to year so I don’t need to replant everything ever year.”
“I really mean it when I say you have a gift,” he said, the awe evident in his voice.
“Yeah well,” you shoved a pail towards him. “I didn’t do it without getting into the dirt.”
Hansol kneeled down with you near the sunflowers next to your cottage. He helped you weed around them and chatted with you, asking you more about all of the different plants in your garden. You let yourself indulge, telling him every little detail you knew and relieved when he seemed interested in the whole thing. You knew little interests like this could bore people but he listened intently, soaking in every detail.
The garden felt good with Hansol there. He calmed you a lot and your garden made you happy. Altogether it was a level of content that you never wanted to end. You worked your way along the bed until you got to the edge of the garden. It looked much better and you knew your plants would be much happier being weed free now. You stood, stretching out your back and Hansol followed you to his feet, stumbling a bit. His hands flailed in a way that made you chuckle as they brushed past one of your flowers and he caught his balance. He was quick to pull his hands back to himself, giving you a look of fear.
“What’s that look for?” you snorted.
“I-I- I don’t want to hurt your plants,” he said quietly.
You laughed, “You won’t hurt them by touching them, come on let’s get a snack. I made muffins.”
“Y-Yeah,” he said shakily, following you inside.
----
You knew that you didn’t know what he did, but you were sure it did keep him busy. He worked weird hours, that’s what he had told you. Maybe it was something where he would get more shifts at times? Or he was getting called in more? Or he just needed more sleep but he didn’t want you to feel bad about it so he told you it was work?
Either way you saw Hansol around less in the last week or two. He wasn’t hanging around the gardens in town nearly every day like he did before. You still saw him, he was there a few times recently but it wasn’t as often. You did have his number at least and you could still text him. You were a little too scared to ask why he was around less. He had to just be busy, right?
You told yourself that yes, he must be busy, as you tended to your garden on your day off. The late summer was hot and your flowers usually loved that. In fact all but one seemed happy.
A sunflower, right near the end of the flower bed, seemed sick. You were trying everything you knew, everything you could think of, to make your precious flower perk up. You didn’t think  it was a virus. Nothing else in the garden seemed to be affected. And it had been very healthy until the last couple of weeks. You were utterly stumped as to why it seemed to be dying when everything around it was thriving.
But at least it was something other than Hansol to focus on.
----
There was less to do on rainy days. You didn’t often work out in the rain and the gardens looked good the day before so you weren’t too worried about weeds. That being said, the rain overnight and into this morning was heavy and the wind was strong. So you found yourself bundled up in your raincoat on the early fall day, checking your gardens for damage. 
You had already spent most of the day running around town, checking the park last as the rain finally let up. Even though you had barely seen him in the last month you couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face as you noticed Hansol in his familiar black hoodie. He smiled at you nervously, approaching as you inspected your plants and pulled your hood down.
“Long time, no see,” you hummed.
Hansol had a sheepish grin on his face. “I know, I’m sorry work got really busy all of a sudden.”
You gave him a reassuring smile. “That’s fine, you’re allowed to be busy.”
“Thanks,” he mumbled. “I probably should have told you that sooner.”
“I just…” you chose your words carefully. “I figured it was something like that.” You weren’t sure you wanted to tell him that you worried he didn’t want to be your friend. That might actually scare him away.
“Yeah well, sorry for being a crummy friend anyway.” He stuffed his hands in his pockets as you started to walk, kicking at wet leaves on the ground.
“Hansol,” you sighed. “It- I’m just glad you told me now, okay?”
“Yeah,” he muttered.
You frowned, trying to pick a good subject change. “So, are you ever going to tell me what you do?”
He chuckled a little, shaking out his hair. “It’s, uh, It’s difficult to explain.”
“I’m a pretty good listener.”
“Let’s just say,” he mused slowly. “That I work in transportation.”
You snorted and were happy to see him relax a little. “Alright, fair enough.”
You wandered down the bicycle path in the park, catching up on each other’s lives. Admittedly, he didn't have much to tell you. Just that work was busier than usual, but you got him up to date on you, telling him about your apple trees and how you could finally bake apple pie with with your own apples.
“How’s the rest of your garden?” There was something almost nervous in his tone.
“It’s good,” you said, thinking through your plants. “It’s nice to see the colours changing on some of them, like the burning bush, it’s turning red and it’s really pretty.”
“Are the sunflowers still in bloom?”
“Yeah,” you hummed. “For a little while at least.” You frowned. “All except for one. I don’t know what happened. If it got a virus nothing else in the garden did. And if it was pests they didn’t get to anything else either. I have no idea why that one flower is dying but it is and nothing I’m doing is bringing it back.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Hansol’s voice sounded a little strained and you stopped in the path. You were a little uneasy today, something about his behaviour seemed off. You didn’t want to intrude but he was a good friend, right?
“Hansol, is everything okay with you?” you asked, a little nervous.
He stopped as well, looking tense. “Y-Yeah, I’m-”
A bicycle bell rang out and you whipped around to someone flying around the bend in the path on their bike, far too close to swerve. You moved to cover your face and felt Hansol’s hand, cold around yours as he tugged you out of the way.
You both stumbled off the path just as the bike raced past you, the rider calling out a sorry as they went. You were leaned into Hansol’s chest, catching your breath before looking up at him. You could feel heat burning at your cheeks being so close to him, your heart pounding, but he was quick to push away from you.
Your face must have twisted into a look of hurt as Hansol started to stumble for words.
“N-No gods it’s not you. I’m not- Don’t- I-I- I have to go.” Hansol turned on his heel and left as you tried to process what had happened.
----
It hurt more than it should that Hansol was avoiding you. You knew he was at this point. He made a point to text you everyday which was nice, but you hadn’t seen him in person for a few weeks, since your last meeting in the park. He had acted weirdly at the time, he seemed upset about one dead flower. And you had figured at this point that he didn’t like to be touched, but the way he took off made no sense. You were wracking your brain trying to figure out if you had done something wrong.
You missed him. You missed his goofy smile and how he could zone out while picking weeds, lost in his own mind. You missed the interesting conversations you ended up on with him. You missed the way just being around him calmed you down. You missed his voice and his face and his presence.
It made your heart ache and as scared as you were to admit it, you knew you had feelings for him. You wanted to kick yourself, feeling as if you could have just done something different and he wouldn’t have put this distance between you. You had only asked once if there was something wrong, but he just told you he had gotten very busy very quickly.
You were bundled up, yet feeling chilled as you worked in your garden. Most of the sunflowers were wilting now but the one that still stumped you, the one that seemed to have gotten sick, had already died. It looked a little strange, more shriveled and dark than you thought it should be but you couldn’t figure out what had made it die so much sooner than it should have.
A bad cough wracked at your body and you wrapped your arms around yourself tightly. You rarely had a cough this bad and you were starting to wonder if you should see a doctor. But it was the fall, people got sick. It would pass.
----
Like a puff of smoke, Hansol had vanished from your life. At first he had texted you, kept up with you. At first he still talked to you and told you he was busy, work was pulling him away, he wouldn’t be around. But he was still there somehow.
And then he wasn’t.
There was no message. No explanation. Hansol was just gone. You tried to reach him but he didn’t answer his phone.
Your heart ached deeply. You wanted to turn back time a few months. You wanted to go back to when you were weeding your gardens and talking to him about anything and everything. Your feelings for him were strong and it only made the whole thing hurt more.
At the very least you didn’t have to keep up with the gardens so much seeing as the end of October was upon you. Your body had been getting weaker and you wondered if you were seriously sick. You thought it was just a cold or flu, something that would pass easily enough. Maybe the stress was making it worse. Maybe the pain of losing Hansol the way you were still worrying for his wellbeing was making it worse. You couldn’t just not care about him. You just hoped that he would come back into your life, you just hoped you would start to feel a little better.
Another coughing fit overtook you and in your hazy, tired state you barely noticed the blood in the tissue.
----
The snow fell outside as you laid in bed. You should try to get up. You should try to at least eat, even though you couldn’t hold anything down.
You should try.
But you were just so tired.
Just a little more sleep
----
Your eyes wouldn’t open, but you were sure you heard a voice. You were sure someone was at your door. Your mind felt hazy but you tried to focus as the bedroom door creaked open.
“No, gods please no!”
That sounded like Hansol’s voice. Somewhere in your mind you wondered how he’d gotten into your house. But most of your little energy was focused on his words.
You heard his footsteps as he moved to the side of the bed. “No, please please!” You felt his hands on you, you felt him shake you. You struggled to open your eyes, to look at him and show him that you were alright, you had just been sleeping, but they refused to open. Your body refused any of your commands.
“Please no, please you can’t be gone!”
Gone? Gone as in dead? You couldn’t be dead, could you?
Hansol gripped you tightly. “I can’t- I can’t have-” you heard him break into sobs as he fell into the chair near the bed, it creaking under him. You wished you could open your eyes and move and hug him. It hurt to hear him so distraught.
“I can’t be too late,” he fell over your form. “I can’t lose you. I can’t lose the one thing that brings me so much joy, the one thing that makes me life so bright.”
His voice was muffled and quiet, but you could still make out the words, though you felt as if ice was running through you as you truly grasped what he said.
“It’s all my fault, I should have just stayed away from you. I should have kept my distance and now I can’t save you.”
You could hear his voice break again as he spoke.
“I’m so sorry I loved you.”
You felt so much anguish in your soul, you wanted nothing more than to comfort Hansol. You wanted nothing more than to wrap him in your arms and assure him that you were alright. But he was lying on top of you. He would hear if you had a heartbeat, a pulse.
He would know if you were really alive.
----
You lost track of how long Hansol sat there crying over you. You had no sense of time anymore. It may have been seconds, or hours, or days but you were sure something was starting to shift. Something in you felt just a little lighter. Something in you felt a little different.
You stirred as Hansol lay there, exhausted from crying, unwilling to leave your side. You blinked your eyes open, ever slowly. You curled your fingers and toes. Maybe he had been wrong. You just needed to sleep. You were going to be alright.
With some effort you pushed yourself up onto your forearms, gazing down at Hansol. You called him name, though your voice was barely more than a whisper. Hansol stirred, lifting his head and gazed at you with an expression of disbelief.
“What?” he didn’t seem to believe his eyes.
“Hansol, I’m okay,” you smiled.
He shook his head. “No, no this isn’t right.”
You frowned, Hansol sat up off of you and you brought yourself fully up. “But I’m awake. I was feeling so sick and coughing up blood and now I feel so much better.”
There were tears in Hansol’s eyes as he shook his head and stood, backing towards the door. “No I-I- no I’m so sorry…”
You pulled yourself out of the bed and moved towards him as he ran from the room. You didn’t understand what was upsetting him so much. What was he apologizing for? Nothing was making sense to you. You reached the doorway, catching sight of him racing down the hall before throwing a glance back over your shoulder.
It almost felt as if the blood curdling screams that were ripping themselves from your throat were coming from somewhere far away. Nothing felt real as you stood there, looking back at your body, lying cold on the bed. Still and unmoving. No warmth in your cheeks, your chest not rising from breaths. Your head was spinning as your eyes refused to believe what was right in front of you.
You felt arms wrap around you and you thought, somewhere, you heard Hansol hushing you. I thought you heard a million “I’m so sorrys” and “We have to gos” as he pulled you into the hallway, out of sight of your lifeless body. You crumpled into him as he held your head to his chest, your screams subsided to sobs, feeling as if Hansol was the only thing stopping you from dissolving into nothing.
----
You were sure time no longer mattered. It felt at once as if it had stopped, and as if it was speeding onward. Though your sobs eventually subsided, your eyes with no more tears left. You gripped Hansol tightly, shaking as he slowly led you to the living room, away from the wretched scene left in your bedroom. He sat on the couch, pulling you into his lap and soothing you carefully.
“I don’t understand,” you said quietly.
“I know,” he said, “It never makes sense. We don’t set our own paths.”
You shook your head. “I was alive. I was breathing and I was sick but I was alive. And then I wasn’t.”
“I know this is difficult,” he was calm as you tried to wrap your head around it.
“What do I do?”
Hansol was silent. When you peered up at him he was avoiding your gaze. It slowly dawned on you that you had left your body behind, yet Hansol was holding you. You weren’t even sure what you were at this point. But should he have been able to see you? And what was he so sorry for?
A fresh wave of panic over took you as you pushed away from him, gazing at him in fear.
“Hansol why can you see me? W-Why can you hold me?”
“Please, just take a deep breath,” he said evenly. “I know all of this is confusing. I’ll answer all of your questions. I promise you I will. But something isn’t quite right. I need to figure out how to help you.”
The panic was only rushing through you more strongly. “What do you mean something’s not right?! W-What do I do-”
“Shhh,” his hands grabbed yours firmly as he hushed you. He squeezed your hands. “Just focus on that feeling, okay. I promise I’m going to figure this out and I know this has already been a lot for you. I’m so sorry, I have to put you through a little more, but I won’t leave you.”
There was confusion and fear coursing through you as Hansol stood. You didn’t understand what was happening, but you didn’t think it was wise to stay here. And despite everything, he still calmed you. You still wanted to be near him.
You were slow to follow him to your feet. He carefully wrapped you in his arms again. He pulled your face to hide in his neck, murmuring at you not to look.
Air seemed to rush around you like a tornado, consuming any other sound. You felt yourself shaking, clinging to Hansol tightly, but not as tightly as he held you. Your feet left the ground and a scream ripped itself from your throat. You had no idea how Hansol remained so calm as the wind whipped past you quickly.
And then, as suddenly as it had started, it stopped.
Your feet hit the ground hard and Hansol caught you as you stumbled. It was cold outside and you were sure the snow was thicker on the ground now. You looked around cautiously, taking in the river that ran into the mouth of the cave you stood at. The snow seemed to muffle all the sounds of the world around you. Hansol kept an arm wrapped around you as he led you until the darkness of the cave.
“H-Hansol, where are we going?”
He bit his lip for a moment. “I-I don’t kno-”
“Please just, please tell me.”
He sighed. “The underworld.”
You stopped in your tracks and Hansol stopped with you. You could feel tears welling up in your eyes as you shook your head. “N-No, no you’re just going to l-leave me there, y-you can’t-”
Hansol hushed you again. “I’m not, I promise you I’m not just going to leave you there. We have to see some people. People who can tell us what’s going on. Please.”
He cupped your face in his hands. “Please just trust me.”
You nodded slowly, gripping his hands and holding them there, feeling for a fleeting moment that everything was okay.
Hansol slowly pulled you further. You clung to him as the darkness wrapped in around you. You could barely see but he seemed to have no trouble navigating. He was quiet as you went, though the silence felt more comforting than sound. Any words he spoke echoed through the cavern in an eerie fashion. You followed him for what felt like a very long time, going deeper and deeper into the cave. Eventually you thought you heard sounds other than the rushing water. Voices up ahead. You shook and Hansol tugged you closer to his side.
“It’s okay,” he mumbled.
A sudden burst of light made you jump. As you and Hansol walked deeper into the cave scones on the walls burst to life, lighting your path. Your gaze trailed back to Hansol and you whined. Somehow you hadn’t noticed the change, but he was no longer in his black hoodie, instead shrouded in a black cloak that trailed behind him.
You were too frightened to ask why.
Hansol pulled you towards the river and through the deep mist that had set in around you emerged a boat with an equally shrouded figure, though with his hood up. You were nervous as you stepped onto the boat with him.
“You’re bringing in a soul personally, Hansol?” The voice that came from the cloak was raspy and cold.
“This isn’t a normal situation, Charon,” he replied grimly.
The hood lifted and you dropped your gaze after catching a glimpse, a flash of something underneath.
“Hansol,” there was some grave urgency in his voice now. “What have you done?”
You curled closer to Hansol with a quiet whimper.
“I made a mistake,” Hansol said evenly. “But even I’m confused as to what’s happened.”
“This isn’t supposed to happen,” Charon rasped. “Have you messed with fate?”
“That’s what I’m trying to figure out.”
You listened as they spoke in hushed tones, trying to understand what they meant. Trying to wrap your head around this new information. You felt as if you might pass out but you didn’t know if you could anymore. Your mind scrambled to remember anything you had learned about greek mythology, any details that could explain what was going on, but even though you remembered a little it still didn’t explain why they were both so concerned.
The boat ride seemed long, maybe longer than it really was. But as it docked you suddenly wished you could turn back. A large three headed dog stood in front of you at the gates and you could hear screams in the distance as Hansol pulled you off the boat. You stopped again, shaking your head and Hansol brought his hands to your face once more.
“Hey, hey I know it’s scary. I know it’s confusing. But remember what I said, I’m not just going to leave you.” Despite everything around you, his warm brown eyes calmed you.
“O-Okay,” you breathed.
Hansol pulled you back into his side. The dog sniffed in your direction, but instead of a growl it barked and padded forward. Hansol smiled up at the beast, reaching up to pat him as he lowered one of his large heads.
“People are really afraid of Cerberus,” he said. “But he’s really sweet, just like any other dog.”
One of the three heads nosed at you before giving you a light lick that made you giggle.
“He likes you,” Hansol smiled.
“I-Is that good?”
He chuckled. “Very good.”
He pulled you past Cerberus and towards three figures. You were sure it was getting colder now and you shivered, wishing to go back to the intimidating but sweet dog. As you approached the three figures looked up in unison, each with a look of confusion of surprise.
“This… is unusual,” one spoke.
“I’m aware,” Hansol said. “And it’s unusual to ask to pass without judgement but-”
“You need to speak with the fates,” another rasped.
“Yes,” Hansol sighed with obvious relief.
“Very well,” the third snarled, not as easily convinced as the other two, but out voted.
Hansol pulled you past them quickly, then off down a winding, almost hidden path.
“Hansol, w-who were-”
“The judges,” he replied grimly. “They chose where you go to live out the afterlife.”
“Is that bad?” Hansol seemed far too serious for that to be good.
“It can be, but we need to talk with the fates.”
You were quiet for a while, unsure if you wanted to ask him the questions really burning in your mind. Unsure if you wanted the answers. The path he walked you down was lined by old trees, trees you were sure were long dead and hung with some sort of veils. A light glinted up ahead as you followed the path nearer to the river winding past you. Hansol lead you over a bridge towards three figures cloaked in white, though shrouded in shadows. They seemed to look towards you, up from their book, their faces covered.
“We’ve been waiting for you, Hansol,” one of them spoke quietly.
“You’ve done something wrong,” said another.
“And you come to us for answers,” added the third.
“I don’t come for me,” he said quickly. “I-I know what I did b-but,” he glanced at you. “Something isn’t right, sh-”
He stopped speaking as one of them held up their hand.
“Her thread would not cut,” she spoke slowly. “But she is not a goddess.”
“It seems your beloved has been spared from the Asphodel Meadows, or perhaps the Elysian Fields. We cannot see.”
“Y-You can’t-”
“Hush,” the third spoke, silencing Hansol. “Someone has interfered with fate. Someone has stepped in to claim her.”
His eyes widened. “She’s someone’s servant? W-Who?”
“You ought to speak with Hades,” she replied. “And… Persephone.”
Hansol gripped your hand tightly and thanked the fates before pulling you back towards the path, only stopping when one of them called out to him, the other two already pouring over their book again.
“It… was inevitable. This was always where the end was.”
He nodded to her quickly before pulling you away.
----
Hansol was silent and your head was spinning as he pulled you towards a large set of door. Your mind was swimming with questions and as much as you had come to trust Hansol, you needed answers. You needed to know.
You stopped him just before the doors. “Hansol, please tell me what’s wrong. What does all this mean?”
Hansol sighed. “You’re… You’re a servant of someone, one of the gods.”
You shook your head. “How, I-I don’t understand.”
“I know, it’s- It’s a lot of information. I…”
He fell silent as the doors swung open on their own. His nervous glance towards you was brief before he pulled you through to the audience chamber. You peeked at the two figures, sitting side by side on their thrones. The candle light seemed to glint off their crowns, illuminating his solemn face, and her kind one.
You heard the doors shut behind you as Hansol kneeled and you followed suit. “We were told to come and see you,” Hansol spoke.
“Stand Hansol,” Hades spoke, “and face us.”
“Y-Yes sir,” he mumbled, standing to his feet. His fingers were tightly laced with yours as he stepped forward.
“You ought to be on probation,” Hades’ tone was grim. “What is the first rule you were taught?”
“Do not touch the living,” he recited. “Sir, she would have been hurt if I-”
“She would be alive, Hansol,” he said clearly.
“Th-The fates said-”
“Regardless of what they fates have said, regardless of what was to happen you have made a grave mistake. It only means that your punishment was always inevitable.”
“Calm yourself, Hades,” Persephone said, standing and descending slowly from her throne. “Has he not suffered enough?”
“It’s a simple rule. He shou-”
“He watched her die. He brought her to you knowing you would be angry.” Persephone turned to Hansol. “He is full of guilt.”
Hades pursed his lips, sinking back into his throne. “Since you’re so adamant.”
“Come with me, dears,” she said kindly. You followed her, thankful to be away from Hades. He scared you and your mind was still spinning, trying to keep up with the new info. Persephone led you into a room nearby, what seemed like a small sitting room, much warmer and more friendly than the rest of the underworld. You sat in the chair, still shaky and still holding Hansol’s hand. Persephone smiled as she sat with you two.
“Hansol,” she said kindly. “I think you owe her some answers.”
Persephone poured tea quietly as Hansol shifted to look at you. “I’m a servant of Hades, or maybe you’d be more familiar with grim reaper. I’m not supposed to touch the living,” he said. “When I touch something living, it dies.”
“S-So you- when you…”
“I didn’t mean for it to happen. I thought quickly and I pulled you out of the way and I-” he tried to catch his breath, though his eyes were welling with tears. “I-I thought the worst of it would be killing your flower. I thought after that I should stay away from you. It was dangerous for me to feel the way I do about you. And when I did see you I-”
He choked back a sob. “I-I thought I could fix it. I searched and searched until I found something to save you. And I brought it back. I b-brought it to you b-but-” Hansol broke down into sobs. Maybe you should have been more angry, that this was his fault.
But the fates, it was inevitable. No matter what, this was to happen. So was it worth it to be angry? He was clearly distraught. He only touched you to keep you from harm, like anyone who loved you would.
And the thought that he truly loved you, that warmed your heart.
You moved from your own chair into his lap, letting go of his hand and holding his face instead. Hansol shook as he peered up at you.
“You came back for me,” you said.
“I killed you, with one touch I-”
This time, you hushed him. “Remember what the fates said, it was meant to happen. I was meant to die.”
He took deep breaths as you wiped the tears from his face.
“I love you,” he whispered softly.
“And I love you,” you returned.
“How could I let something so precious end so suddenly.” You both looked at Persephone, feeling a little flustered.
“It was you,” Hansol said. “You-”
“Requested you to be my servant,” she spoke, focusing her attention on you. “Though this reaper’s unusual love isn’t the only reason. He’s right dear, you have a gift for bringing life, for making things grow. My servants help the earth return to splendor in the spring, alongside my mother and I. Your talents for bringing life to all, even this one here,” she motioned to Hansol, “led me to realize you would be a benefit to me.”
“S-So I work for you?”
She nodded slowly. “When spring comes again. And though Hades and Hermes keep Hansol busy all year, I think you should spend some time catching up. Perhaps Hansol will tell you more about himself.”
You looked back at Hansol, his eyes searching yours for something.
“Of course,” you said. Hansol smiled at you, hugging you tightly
“Thank you, Persephone,” he mumbled.
“Don’t waste this gift,” she said.
“We won’t,” you replied.
----
“I think you’ll be summoned back soon,” Hansol hummed, squeezing your hand interlaced with his.
“There are buds on a few of the trees,” you said as you strolled through the park, “I think you’re right.”
He stopped, pulling you to face him and gazing at you, as if he wanted to remember every detail of you. “I’ll miss you.”
You smiled. “Hansol, you miss me every spring. But I always come back to you.”
He leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to your lips, lingering close for a moment after. “You always do.”
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cuddlepilefics · 3 years
Text
Lemon Tea
Fandom: Stray Kids
Sickie: Jisung
Caregiver: Minho
Prompt: 'Vitamin C' @sicktember
No one's POV.:
When Jisung came home late in the evening after a few grueling hours of vocal training, his throat was on fire. He had certainly taken it a bit too far and really should've stopped at least an hour ago. Dinner was already on the table and his members had only been waiting for him to come home. He greeted them quietly waving and smiled when Chan put a plate in front of him. The others weren't really surprised that he remained silent during their meal. They knew what he had been working on and had already expected him to rest his voice as much as possible afterwards. "How did it go?", Minho asked, when they cleared the table. Jisung smiled and gave his hyung a thumbs up, grabbing the first plate. The two were in charge of doing the dishes that evening, so Minho got a tea towel and took the clean dish from the younger to dry it off. Clearing his throat, Jisung hummed: "Tell me 'bout your day, hyung. I can't really speak but I'd like to hear your voice." That made the dancer smile and he started to talk about the choreography he was working on with Hyunjin and Felix. They had had lots of fun, despite their practice being exhausting, which made Jisung happy. He loved the way his hyung's eyes sparkled when he talked about dancing or his cats. The older always resembled a child at Christmas when talking about those topics and Jisung found it adorable.
They finished the dishes and Jisung went to take a shower, already starting to feel sleepy. He'd probably go to bed soon after washing up, despite it not being late at all yet. With how sleepy he was, his shower turned out a lot longer than he had originally planned. The warm water washing away the tension of the day, the rapper relaxed and closed his eyes. He was lucky, the others had already showered either in the morning or immediately after their dance practice, so there was nobody waiting for him to finish. Jisung took his time and got ready for bed after. Chan was a bit confused that the younger completely disappeared after dinner, as Jisung wasn't usually one to go to bed early. Deciding to check on his dongsaeng, the leader made his way to the rapper's room and was surprised to find him already in his bed. Although the lights were off already, Jisung still had his headphones on and startled when the mattress dipped on one side. Blinking, he removed his headphones and looked at Chan questioningly. "Sorry for scaring you, I just wanted to see how you're doing. It isn't usually like you to go to bed early", the Aussie hummed. Jisung gave a small smile and whispered: "Is fine. I'm doing alright, today was just exhausting and I feel like I have no energy at all. Probably won't even sleep anytime soon, just, y'know listen to music for a while." – "Alright, rest well. Want me to get you some water for your throat?", Chan offered, getting up. Though the rapper declined, he still returned to his room a few minutes later and placed a water bottle on Jisung's nightstand before going to his own room to work on some music.
Jisung woke up about an hour before his alarm. He felt a lot worse than he had the previous evening and wasn't so sure he had only strained his voice. Sure, his throat still hurt but so did his head. Although he had fallen asleep exceptionally early, he still felt drained, like the hours of sleep hadn't refilled his energy in the slightest. Knowing he had some time to spare, Jisung padded into the kitchen and made himself some tea. He got comfortable on the couch, scrolling through social media while sipping his tea. The rapper was slowly falling back to sleep on the couch when the first few members woke up from their alarms. First were Minho and Seungmin, who wanted to start making breakfast but stopped in their tracks when they noticed Jisung. After nodding at Seungmin to start already, Minho went over to the couch and sat down beside his dongsaeng. The rapper's eyes fluttered open and looked at Minho confused. The last time he checked, he had been alone. Where had his hyung come from all of a sudden? "Good morning. What are you doing up already?", the dancer asked quietly, smiling at his confused dongsaeng. Jisung scrubbed at his face and gave a soft cough before replying huskily: "Woke up early. Ugh, I can't talk, my voice is shot." – "Yeah, you really seem to have overdone it yesterday but I see you already made yourself some tea", Minho clicked his tongue, knowing they were supposed to record something today, which he certainly wouldn't with how bad he sounded right now.
"Hyung, does my forehead feel hot?", Jisung asked out of nowhere just as Minho was about to join Seungmin in the kitchen. Brushing his bangs back, the dancer rested his palm on Jisung's forehead and frowned: "You do feel a little warm to me. Do you think you're sick?" – "Dunno, my head hurts an' I'm so tired although I went to bed early", the rapper shrugged, sitting up. For a moment, he felt lightheaded and had to take a few deep breaths before he felt ready to get up. Minho watched him with worry as they walked to the kitchen to make breakfast. "Sung, if you think you might be coming down with something, this is probably not a good idea", Minho whispered, aware of how quick illnesses spread with so many people living in such close vicinity. Defeated, Jisung nodded. He knew the older was right and he was truly suspecting, there was something more going on than just him straining himself. The rapper went to his room to get ready, passing the other members, who went to eat breakfast. Jisung himself wasn't hungry, so he decided to just sit on his bed after getting dressed and wait for the rest of the group to finish. At some point, he must have gone to sleep again.
When all members except for Jisung sat at the breakfast table. Minho handed each one of them a large glass of orange juice. Earning a few odd looks, he sighed: "Jisung's coming down with a cold, so we're all loading up on vitamin c. It should boost our immune system, so we won't catch it." – "Sung's sick? We were all going to record today", Chan frowned, glancing in the direction of their bedrooms. "Not sure if he's sick enough to stay back at the dorm but he's certainly in no shape to record anything. That boy barely has any voice left", Minho explained. Already mentally rescheduling their recordings, Chan nodded, cracking a smile when Seungmin gave his glass a distasteful frown. "Hyung, you're being ridiculous. I don't know how much actual orange is in this and it probably won't do much except for attack our teeth", the vocalist cringed. The look he received from Minho was enough to convince the rest of the group to just drink it, as the dancer threatened: "Yah! Listen to hyung or die of his plague, I couldn't care less."
When they were done with breakfast, Chan went to Jisung's room to check on the sick rapper, finding him knocked out on his bed. He seemed ready to head out but had fallen asleep after getting ready. Hesitant to wake his dongsaeng, Chan brushed the backs of his fingers against his forehead and found his skin unnaturally warm to the touch. Jisung wouldn't be able to record his parts anyway, so why drag him out? Searching for Minho, Chan joined the dancer in his room and explained: "You were right, Sung seems to be running a temperature and if he can't record, I don't see why we should take him with us. He's asleep and would probably benefit more from just staying here and resting. You're only scheduled for your recording in the afternoon. I know that Hyunjin and Felix are going to have a voluntary dance practice, I don't know if you're planning to join them. If you're not, maybe you could keep an eye on Jisung till you need to head to the studio?" – "I was thinking about it but after I found Sungie this morning, I'd rather keep him some company before coming over to record my parts", Minho agreed, "Can you text me if you take longer or already need me earlier? It'll take me longer to get to the studio from here instead of the dance room." – "Sure, will do. Thank you, Min, and tell Jisung to feel better", Chan smiled before gathering Changbin, Seungmin and Jeongin. Hyunjin and Felix left only a few minutes later.
After the dorm became quiet, Minho made his way to the kitchen. He decided to prepare a pot of tea, in hopes of helping Jisung's throat, when he remembered the rapper also hadn't had breakfast yet. Figuring his dongsaeng didn't have that much of an appetite, Minho contemplated what would be soft enough to eat with a sore throat. He washed a handful different berries and sliced a banana, mixing the berries into a bowl of yoghurt, which he had sweetened with some honey, and decorating it with banana slices. Grabbing a small tray, the dancer placed the yoghurt, a teacup and the pot of tea on it and carried it to Jisung's bedroom. He could already hear the rapper coughing, so he wasn't too worried about waking him up. Opening the door with his elbow, Minho smiled: "Hey." – "Hey", the younger sniffled quietly, "Why's it so quiet?" – "The others left already. Chan decided it would be best to let you rest since you can't record with how shot our voice is. He said to tell you to feel better", Minho explained, watching a look of horror flash across Jisung's face. "That was supposed to be today?" – "Yeah, we're recording today. My turn is scheduled for the afternoon, so I stayed back to keep you company for now", the dancer confirmed, "You didn't have breakfast with us, so I made you something. Hope it doesn't hurt too much." – "Thanks, hyung", Jisung whispered, accepting the bowl from Minho. Seeing how pretty the older had decorated it made the rapper smile.
Minho sat at the foot of Jisung's bed, keeping the boy company while he ate. "You should probably change back into something comfortable, when you're done eating. That doesn't look like it'd be nice to nap in", the dancer commented on the skinny jeans. Jisung nodded, placing the bowl back onto the tray, rasping: "Could I borrow one of your hoodies? They're always the comfiest." The rapper's pout made Minho giggle before he nodded. "I'll get you one. I know which one's your favorite", he chuckled, leaving his dongsaeng blushing on his bed. When he returned, Jisung was curiously eyeing the teapot till Minho picked it up and poured some into the cup, explaining: "Lemon tea. The honey should sooth your throat and the vitamin c will help you kick this cold in no time. Here, that's the hoodie you wanted, isn't it?" Jisung couldn't help but blush again. Minho had really picked out the one he liked most. Nodding, the rapper accepted it and got up to change. In his sweatpants and Minho's hoodie, he crawled back into bed, sitting against the headboard.
His hyung handed him his tea and glanced at the clock. He'd have to leave soon but he wanted to get Jisung all settled before heading out. "Anything you want to do today, while we're gone?", he asked, spotting the rapper's laptop and plugging it in to charge, so his dongsaeng could watch a movie later. The younger just shrugged, admitting: "Honestly, I just want to sleep, please." – "Should I leave?", Minho asked softly, feeling Jisung's forehead again concerned by how wiped he seemed. "I – I don't know", the rapper groaned, coughing again. Seeing how emotional the younger got, Minho cooed: "Tell you what. Finish that tea and then you can sleep, yeah? I'll sit with you and maybe play with your hair till you fall asleep. Then I'll go to the studio and record my parts. Should you wake up before any of us are back, you can watch a movie, maybe have some more tea and then we'll see how you're feeling tonight." Jisung nodded, taking another sip. He finished his tea while Minho got up and drew the curtains, so his dongsaeng would be able to get some proper sleep. Sitting down on the edge of the mattress, the dancer waited for Jisung to put his cup aside and lay down. He gently cupped the boy's feverish cheek before running his hand through his hair, watching the younger relax. Minho sat playing with Jisung's hair, long after the rapper was asleep. When he had to leave for the studio, he grabbed the yoghurt bowl and snuck out of the room. After placing the bowl in the sink, he slipped on his shoes and headed out.
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myhockeyworld87 · 5 years
Text
Nervous Regrets - Tyler Seguin - Part 13
Word Count: 3089
POV: Reader
Warnings: Smut, NSFW, Oral, sex, cursing
Notes: Finally the smut you’ve been waiting for, or at least I have...haha! Hope you enjoy! As always love your feedback. Peace, Love and Hugs!
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It was exactly day twelve that you finally woke up pain free, no headache, no soreness, absolutely nothing; you felt like a million dollars. The only problem was, there was no one to celebrate with except the dogs. Tyler was away on a road trip; which wouldn’t see him home for another five days. He had not been happy about leaving you alone for eight days, and had tried to con you into going to stay with your parents; or have them come up to stay with you. In the end he relented, since your friends would be here on and off the whole time; which they were. However, since it was seven o’clock in the morning and most of them were getting ready for work; you were left on your own.
 So, instead you got up and went about your day, feeding the dogs and making yourself breakfast. It was the same routine you’d done the last three days without Tyler. Usually, you’d head over to the couch and binge watch television; but it was slowly driving you insane. It wasn’t like you could even start to pack up the house for the move which would take place in a few days; since Tyler had already hired a company to do that.  Maybe you needed some retail therapy, but you still weren’t cleared to drive. Hopefully that would change tomorrow, after you saw your doctor for a checkup. Wandering into the office you sat down at the hardwood desk, realizing it didn’t match your new home at all; it hadn’t been what you originally wanted to shop for, but it was a start.
Over the next couple hours, you combed website after website purchasing some new furniture and fixtures for the home you’d be moving into shortly; one thing in particular caught your attention though, cribs. There were so many to choose from. There were small round ones, ones that converted to a toddler bed later, white ones, hardwood ones, the list went on and on. You really needed to start buying stuff for your little one. It was a shame that you weren’t feeling well, when Tyler’s family was here; for you knew they were all dying to go baby shopping. They would all be back in Dallas shortly, so you’d just have to make up for it then.
 You really hadn’t made any decisions about which room would be the baby’s in the new house; so furniture buying was out of the picture for today. Besides, you kind of thought Tyler might want to help with that. So, instead you started shopping for small items you knew you were going to need; all gender neutral of course. In no time, you had the online cart filled with pacifiers, swaddling blankets and cute little onesies; that’s when you heard your phone ring.
 “Hey Ty, How’s your morning?”
 “Morning? Babe it’s one o’clock in the afternoon. Are you feeling worse or something? Or have you been sleeping all morning?” You could hear the concern in his voice.
 Time must have really gotten away from you, had you really spent the last four hours or more on the computer? “Actually, I feel fantastic. It’s the first time I literally haven’t had any pain at all, anywhere; not even a headache.”
 “Oh, so you must have been watching our favorite show without me then, that you lost track of time.”
 The two of you had decided to re-watch all of the Game of Thrones episodes before the final season came out; you swore to him before he left that you wouldn’t watch any without him. “No, I’m not watching G of T. I was doing some online shopping.”
 You could hear him groan through the phone, yet still he chuckled when he spoke; “I’m surprised the credit card company hasn’t called to tell me I’m over my limit.”
 “Oh stop, I didn’t even use your card. I have my own money you know.”
 “I’m just teasing you. You know I don’t care if you use the credit card; that’s why I got one in your name too.” It was in your purse, and you never used it. He had originally given it to you when you moved in the first time; and had offered it back, now that you were together again. Even back then, you’d only used it sparingly; it just didn’t feel right.
 “I know you don’t care; but you also know how I feel about it.”
 He sighed heavily; it was an issue the two of you always had. “(Y/N) I wish you would just use it, but I’m willing not to argue about it; for now.” Well at least your headache wasn’t going to come back. “So, tell me what are you buying that has you losing all track of time.”
 “Well it started with a desk for the new house, which lead to a new chair, and then I saw the most gorgeous bedding set for our bed, so I had to buy that. Then right before you called, I was just about to get some stuff for the baby.”
 “Woah, that’s a lot of stuff. What did you buy for the baby? Nothing important, I hope.” There was disappointment in his voice, and you immediately felt guilty.
 “No, it was just some small things, bottles and stuff like that. I looked at cribs and stuff, but wanted to wait for you. Maybe when you come home, we can go shopping together and look at things.”
 His voice perked up, as he said; “Yeah, I’d really like that. Though I should confess I bought the baby something as well.”
 “Really, what?”
 This was unexpected, and had definitely piqued your curiosity. “Nothing major, just this cute little stuffed animal I saw.”
 “Awww I can’t wait to see it. I really miss you.”
 It was Tyler’s turn to sound surprised, “really?”
 “Of course, I’m so bored here.” While that was true, you also missed the way his skin smelled when he came out of the shower; grown accustom to him holding you at night and the soft sweet little kisses he gave during the day. Those thoughts of him now, made you long for his touch. Though his voice pulled you out of your daydreams.
 “Oh, so you only miss me because you’re bored huh? It’s what every boyfriend wants to hear.”
 You let a flirtatious tone take over your voice. “Well, I might miss you for other reasons.”
 “Mmmm, such as.”
 “Well…I miss the way your lips feel on mine when you kiss me.” His breathing hitched up, and so you continued; “And the way your body feels when it’s pressed up against me at night. Your leg wrapped over mine.”
 “Yeah….anything else you miss.” You knew he was getting turned on; the fact that it was doing the same to you only made you keep going.
 “I miss the way your hands roam over my body, and how they caress my breasts.” Leaning back in the chair you abandoned the computer; giving your full attention to thoughts of Tyler. “I miss running my hands down your chest, until I can feel the hard length of your cock in my hand.” A moan escaped his lips, and you knew he was touching himself. “I miss sliding my hand up and down your shaft.”
 “Fuck, (Y/N) I miss you so damn much.”
 “I want you so bad Ty. I need to feel you inside me.”
 He must have had you on speaker, because you heard a knock in the distance. “Go away…sorry babe, I didn’t mean you. I meant whoever is at the door. Keep going.” The knock came back again. “Fuck” There was mumbling in the background. “I’ll be there in a minute. Babe, I gotta go, team meeting or some bullshit. I’m so sorry.”
 Chuckling, you said back, “No need to be sorry, we can pick this up when you’re home and I can show you instead of telling you.”
 “Stop, you’re not helping,” to which you only laughed more. “I’ll call you after the game. I love you.”
 “Love you too.” Hanging up the phone you realized these next 5 days were going to be longer than you originally thought.
 However, it ended up not being so bad. On Friday, you were cleared by the doctor to resume normal activities; though it was a bit awkward asking if sex could be included in those daily actions. Weeks ago, when the doctor first brought it up, you hadn’t foreseen you and Tyler progressing that far in your relationship. Now you couldn’t think about anything but that. So when the doctor said he saw no problem with you resuming sexual activity; you couldn’t wait until Tyler got home.
 Saturday, your friends came over and you all had a girl’s night; minus the alcohol for you of course. It was great to just laugh, talk and hang out with them. Sunday you took the dogs for a nice long walk, which had you feeling completely amazing; so, you took them over to your apartment and packed the rest of your things. Admittedly, you might have overdone it; as you were a bit sluggish on Monday. While you had good intentions of heading back to work; you decided to take the extra week they had given you off, and simply work from home. It actually gave you a chance to get caught up on things without any interruptions.
 You were just finishing up a conference call with your boss, when Tyler came home the next day; Gerry and Marshall running out to greet him. Ever your faithful sidekick these days, Cash stayed with you in the office. “(Y/N), babe, where you at?”
 “I’m in the office, just finishing up an email.” He was leaning against the doorframe when you finally looked up from the computer; dressed in a dark charcoal gray suit, with a black shirt unbuttoned at the neck. His hair perfectly slicked back taming the riot of curls on his head; he looked like he just stepped out of a GQ magazine. A small smile played across his lips. “There’s my girl. God, I missed you.”
 Before you knew what was happening, you were out of the chair and in his arms; legs wrapping around him as he lifted you up. “I missed you more.” Your lips crushed down on his, in a searing kiss that stole your breath away. You gave yourself over to him, letting his tongue wander inside your mouth before yours joined in. Sliding your hands up, you let them roam through his perfectly combed hair. It was as if you couldn’t get enough of him. For the last two weeks, you’d either laid beside his half naked body or talked to him on the phone; as you fantasized about this moment. It had been entirely too long since the two of you had been like this, and now that he was here in the flesh with you; you saw no reason to deny yourselves any longer. You broke your mouth free from his, breathing harshly; “take me to bed Ty. I need you.”
 It was all you had to say, the next minute you knew, his lips were back on yours; as he carried you back to the bedroom. He shut the door behind you, locking both the dogs and the world outside. Gently he laid you down on the mattress, his body coming on top of yours. Reaching up you slid the expensive suit coat, off his shoulders. His mouth rained kisses down your neck, as his calloused hands reached the hem of your shirt to glide it up your body, and remove it. He looked down at you then, soft brown eyes burrowing into yours. “Are you ok to do this?”
 Your hands fumbled with the buttons on his shirt, as you answered; “yes, the doctor said its fine.” You could see his eyes searching, he was hesitant to go further; thinking he would hurt you or the baby. “Ty, I’m fine. I’ll tell you if something doesn’t feel right.” He seemed to accept that answer, for he replaced your hands and threw his shirt off with ease. Snaking your hands around his neck, you brought his mouth to yours kissing him feverishly. His hand wandered down to your breast, where his thumb brushed against your nipple; a soft moan escaped your lips. His mouth replaced his fingers as he sucked the tight peak through the thin fabric of your bra; wetness pooled in your pussy with every lap of his tongue. “Mmmm…Ty…that feels so good.” Shifting, he went and gave your other breast the same attention. The moment his mouth touched you, your hips bucked up against him.
 He rolled your bodies so you were on top of him, his hands skimming along your side; as you reached down and undid his belt. “God, baby you are so beautiful.” You leaned down and captured his lips again, while he unfastened your bra; the garment drooping off your shoulders. Slowly he pushed you up, so he could worship your breasts; flicking his tongue over your nipple. You grinded your hips against his thigh seeking some sort of friction to the tension that was building within you. Running your hands down from his chest, you moved toward the flap of his pants, wanting to feel his hard length in your palm. He sucked in a harsh breath when you cupped his balls through his boxers, feeling his cock harden even more.
 He flipped you on your back, before you could do anything more. Kissing his way down your body, his hands slowly pushed at your leggings to remove them; you lifted your hips to assist him. His mouth paused when he was at your tummy; a small baby bump had formed in the few days he’d been gone. He reverently placed a kiss there, then looked up into your eyes. “When did this happen?”
 Suddenly you were self-conscious. “A few days ago.” You tried to pull him back up to you; but he couldn’t be budged.
 He kissed your belly again, then began to caress it. “Damn (Y/N) this is so sexy. I have never wanted you more than I do right now.” You released a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. He continued to worship you with his mouth, kissing your pussy through your panties; as he slid them slowly off your body. You moaned, the sound echoing through the bedroom. His finger slid between your folds, “Fuck, you’re so wet babe.”
 His thumb found your clit, you practically jumped off the bed from the sensation. “Ty!” The next thing you knew, his mouth was on your hot little nub; flicking it with his tongue. You arched your back, seeking more. Hands threading his hair, you tugged him closer to your core. He slid a single finger inside you, making a come here motion with it. Your head thrashed against the bed, it was too much and he’d barely touched you. You could feel the orgasm building inside you; legs starting to shake as it built. Your body felt on fire, and with one hard suck on your clit from Tyler; the orgasm hit with full force. “Tyler” you screamed out as waves of pleasure washed over you. He held your hips down with his free hand, as his finger pumped in and out of you; milking the orgasm from your body.
 He raised his head, “You ok baby?”
 You smiled, “Mmmm, yes.” He kissed the inside of your thigh, nipping lightly at the skin there; as he made his way back up your body. He discarded his pants and boxers in the process, so that both of you were naked. You raked your nails along his back, and he hissed out his pleasure. He kissed you, and you could taste your essence on his lips. Cock in his hand, he ran it along your length; coating it with your wetness. Placing it at your entrance, he stilled; not moving, as he ravished your mouth with his. With one swift thrust, he was fully engulfed in you.
 Your body shivered, and he looked down with questioning eyes. Lifting your hips, you urged him to move, yet it wasn’t the verbal confirmation he wanted. “Please Ty, I need….”
 “What do you need baby?” A small smirk crossed his lips.
 “You….Ty…I need you.” Only then did he start to move inside you. Slowly, thrusting in and out of your pussy; as the two of you built a rhythm. Your hips moving up to meet each of his thrusts. He bent down capturing a hard nipple in his mouth, and you groaned in pleasure. You wrapped a leg around his waist, changing the angle and letting him push deeper inside you.
 “Fuck (Y/N) I can’t last much longer.” You reached between your bodies and found your clit, stroking it in a way that had you on edge in minutes. He started to tense, his thrusts becoming faster and shorter. You applied a little more pressure to your clit, sending your body over the edge as the orgasm hit. Your pussy contracting around his cock. With one last hard thrust he pushed deep inside you and came. Both of you screaming out the other’s name. He collapsed on top of you, and immediately you tighten your arms around him, not wanting to move. Ty tried to roll over, but you wouldn’t let him. “I’m gonna crush you.”
 “I like to feel you on top of me.” He kissed your forehead, then your lips; sliding his hands underneath you, so he could roll you with ease now. “Not fair, you protested.” So he rolled you both on your sides.
 “Better?” you nodded. “Are you ok? I didn’t hurt you did I?”
 You giggled, “No Ty, you didn’t hurt me. I feel amazing.”
 “Mmmm me too.” He reached down and brought the covers around both of you. “Sleep.”
 “It’s the middle of the afternoon?”
 “Mmmm I know. And I’ve just thoroughly made love to you, I think we both need a nap. Then we’ll go for round two.”
 Snuggling into his chest, you said, “Round two huh? I think I like that idea.” His hand lightly skated up and down your back; and in no time you found your eyes getting heavy as you relaxed into his embrace. It was as if all the pieces of your life were finally back together.
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mintandsugabiasd · 5 years
Text
BTS reacts to long-haired s/o getting rly short hair/pixie-cut
Seokjin:
By the earthy scent that wafts from inside your apartment, you can tell that he's in the middle of cooking -- he insists that it's his way of giving back for when he's away from you so jagi please let him take care of you. And honestly you're not really complaining.
"I'm home!" You walk into the living room and head straight to the couch to put your bags down. Almost immediately, you can hear the stove click shut and the shuffling of feet.
"Jagiya, welcome back," he says as he makes his way to you in the living room. "I hope you're in the mood for -- WOAH!"
He fumbles when he sees you -- hair styled into a pixie cut that reveals your neck and jaw, instead of the long waves you've had since the beginning of your relationship -- and almost trips, slotted fryer still at hand. You almost laugh at how comical it is.
"Ta-da...," you say, shyly. You know how into appearances he is sometimes, and he's made it known just how much he loves your long hair, that it dawns on you that maybe he might not like your impulsive decision to cut it...
"Jagi...," he starts, circling around you, eyes big and very visibly shook. You bite your lip, fidgeting in place and unsure about what he'll say. Would he really hate it...?
He blinks in that way he does when he finds something unbelievable as he continues eyeing your new look.
"Woah, my baby," he says, edges of his lips tugging into a smile. "Have you always had such a gorgeous neck?"
You laugh, tension rolling off your person in droves as he closes the gap between you. Your hands automatically find him when he lingers even closer, fingers caressing your nape to toy with the edges of your short hair.
"I hope you like it." It's honestly so lame how nervous you sound. But Seokjin just laughs, pushes your fringe back a little to press his lips onto your forehead.
"You're beautiful. Did you know that?" he says, hugging you. You can feel him breathe you in, sighing into your bare shoulder. "You'll always be beautiful. It's as much a fact as that I'll always be handsome."
"We'll always be world-wide handsome and world-wide drop-dead gorgeous, you and I."
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Yoongi:
Not many things can take Yoongi's attention away from his work when he's really into it. Most people expect that, just because he's busy or just plain uninterested, he doesn't pay attention to much.
But you and the boys know better than anyone that that has always been the greatest misconception when it came to your boyfriend -- Yoongi has always been perceptive, despite how reserved he tends to be. It's why his lyrics can be so emotionally charged with power and intrigue, while also being so relatable at the same time.
But that's not to say that Yoongi, in all his perfection and all his flaws, doesn't fumble sometimes. Especially when he's completely immersed on the new beat he's making for a new track.
And, if you're being honest with yourself, you'd rather he just kept his attention on his music for now and not on your new haircut.
It's the shortest it's ever been; the first time you've opted for a pixie cut. Although you don't mind it's length one bit (and the added bonus of a very light, very breezy neck), you can't help but worry a little bit about how Yoongi will react... not that he cares about appearances.
You know that he doesn't, but that doesn't stop the nervous thudding of your heart against your ribs when you pause in front of his studio door with takeout to brace yourself.
You're quite relieved, however, that he doesn't look away from his computer when you announce yourself entering his studio with lunch. You'll earn a grunt at best when he's on his busiest days and you know that to be the best sign: Yoongi's always on his best mood when he feels accomplished.
The thought of his dedication -- to his work, to his fans, to his passion for music -- touches your heart and makes you smile while you're setting out portions of the take out. How you love watching him work and being inspired by him.
Habit kicks in, however, when you set his food by his computer and you absentmindedly brush your fingers on the soft skin of his nape, for the moment forgetting about your nerves. He glances up at you and smiles, which you fondly return, before you make your way to your food by the couch.
Which is why you completely miss how the smile on his lips dissolves completely into a confused little frown at the thought that wait something doesn't feel quite right. And how he does a complete double-take afterwards.
"Y/n," he says, turning his chair. Your eyes widen and shit your heart is screaming as you turn to face him.
"Yes, Yoongi?"
He doesn't respond. Instead it's a full-on staredown (with that confused frown and that endearing tilt of his head whenever he's processing something). You bite your lip, heat blooming on your face and your heart thrumming as you wait for him to say something. Anything.
He stands up and walks up slowly towards you, brows still furrowed slightly to the middle. You gulp, refusing now to meet his eyes when he's close enough -- what if he actually does hate it -- and visibly shudder when you feel his fingers of one hand touch the bare base of your neck.
Your breath catches when long, piano fingers move slowly up your neck to the corner of your jawline, lingering on exposed skin, and eventually, down to your chin. He tilts your chin up so that you finally look at him, and you blush hotly at how close he is. At this rate, your heart is going to short-circuit from another kind of heat.
Lunch is definitely cold by now.
"You're so pretty," he says, low against your skin as he moves to nuzzle under the corner of your jaw. Your laugh sounds more like a whimper and his breath tickles your neck as you lean on to his shoulder. Relief sets in but it is also quickly replaced by something else the moment you feel his arms pull you in closer towards him and his lips press butterfly kisses all over the newfound skin of your neck and shoulders. You can feel him smirk with every feathery touch of his lips.
"I like discovering new skin on you, pretty girl."
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Hoseok:
You can hear music at the studio all the way down the hall. You knew it was empty before you even got to it -- the boys' practice ended hours ago -- and you knew there was only one person who's probably hard at work perfecting the new choreography. The thing about Hoseok is that deep down he's almost as much of a perfectionist as Yoongi. Maybe that's why they get along so well.
Your thoughts clear when you see him through the glass of the studio, lithe body bending and snapping at every pop and beat. It's why you love to hangout at the studio on your days off -- seeing Hoseok pour his heart and soul into his every movement is such a wonderful thing to witness.
You walk in, cap and hoodie both on to hide your new hairdo (something you'll surprise him with later), and catch his eyes on the mirror.
"Y/N!" You can almost see the laughter in his eyes settle over the serious focus he had earlier. He doesn't stop dancing though; he stops when the music stops.
You put your bag down and watch him for a while as he goes through the motions. And when he meets your gaze again, you mimic the steps he's doing -- even if you don't get it, if only just to make him laugh. Why have therapy when Hoseok's laugh is free?
Knowing that he's practiced enough, he turns from the mirrors to dance his way towards you instead. You laugh when he takes your hand and twirls both of you into the middle of the studio.
He knows he's unmatched when it comes to skills but he adores it every single time you humour him and move to his every step, no matter how bonkers you both look doing it. There's only light and love when both of you dance with each other. And maybe a heck lot of laughter.
It's that easy to be yourself around Hoseok and it's even easier still to forget that you were supposed to surprise him. Which is why it is the moment you forget about your new haircut that it is finally revealed to him.
Mid-step of a swinging routine, your hoodie falls back and Hoseok immediately catches the absence of your work-out ponytail under the cap. He's so surprised that he screams.
"Jagi! Your hair!"
All joking around stop and you see his wide eyes panicked and a hand over his mouth.
"Right... Oops?" You smile sheepishly, shrugging. "I had it cut... Surprise?"
When he doesnt say anything for a while, your insides start to feel a little cold. "Is it.. that bad?"
Your question is what jolts him out of his trance and immediately, he's coming closer and taking your hands in his, exclaiming, "NO! No, of course not! I'm just surprised, is all!"
"Wow...," he continues, now seeing it closer and... real-er. His eyes light up, the hand covering his mouth moving to touch fluffy, newly-cut locks.
"Wooow daebak..." he says even more animatedly now, that you're unsure if he's just being overdramatic or if he's suddenly really excited for you. "Wow, jagiya!"
And now he's definitely making a ridiculous thing out of it with every gasp and every "Oh wow!!" You laugh at every overdone antic, knowing that he's doing this to make up for his absent reaction earlier.
"Hobiii!"
Instead of finally telling you what he thinks of your hair, he laughs brightly and takes your face between his hands and squishes your cheeks.
"Does this mean you like it?" You ask, blushing a bit through his squish.
"Like it?" He moves in to kiss you on the nose, fingers burying themselves through your hair.
"I think you'll have to keep your hair short from now on. I like seeing your smiles and laughs more fully now."
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Namjoon:
You were a little sad to see your hair chopped off. It had always been one of your comfort zones; you couldn't count how many times you've hidden under it when things became too uncomfortable. But the gum that Namjoon, god of destruction as he was, had accidentally flicked on to your hair definitely had to go.
Honestly it's baffling how it stuck so bad and so hard onto the hair just below your jaw. Were Namjoon's fingers that strong or was the god of destruction just really powerful? Had it not meant cutting your hair off, you'd probably laugh.
"I'm really sorry, baby," your boyfriend pleads beside you, holding your hand tightly as the hairdresses snips more of your hair. You try not to look at the floor. "I truly am the god of destruction."
You were sad but seeing Namjoon so dejected made your heart your sink.
"Don't worry, baby," you said, squeezing his hand. "It's just hair. It'll grow back." You gave him a small smile, touching his dimple. The gesture lit his face, even if just a bit.
"I'm sure you'll look beautiful, even with short hair," he said, returning the gesture by tracing his finger over your now-exposed cheek and making you blush. Which he immediately caught.
"Y'know, I've never realized how pretty you are when you blush like that."
"Oh, please. That's not getting you out of your punishment for destroying my hair."
The laugh he lets out makes you feel airy and a whole lot better about your new haircut.
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Jimin:
The moment you stepped into the apartment you both shared with your new pixie cut, you knew he would low key miss your long hair. He liked seeing it in braids and in all kinds of styles. He had thought long hair was very versatile. But knowing him to be a bit of a sappy romantic, you could say it was an understatement to say that he loved your new look the moment you revealed it to him.
"Jagi, you look beautiful! Wow, I bet it feels light in the back, huh?"
He absolutely worshipped you every time he saw you; kissing you on every newly-exposed bit of skin, cooing about how cute you were, how beautiful your short hair framed your cheeks and how incredibly in love he was with you.
Which is why it took you completely by surprise, when the first time you ran your fingers through your pixie cut, neck arching and lips parted in a sigh -- exactly the way he does it -- he pulls you close, your body full and flush against his, with eyes dark with need.
You feel your heart skip a beat the moment you feel heat radiating off him and how his fingers are splayed on your now very accessible neck. You blush at your proximity and the very quickly hardening thing pressing on your thigh.
"Jimin?" You couldn't mask your surprise even if you wanted to. A smirk tugs on his lips as he kisses you, cheeky and slow, on the corner of your lips to leave a trail south of your jaw. You feel his hand suddenly tug you by your short hair to reveal more of your neck and shoulder. Soon his teeth graze bare skin and you let out a strangled whimper the moment he bites down, and sucks. You become nothing but soft in his hands as he starts to pull your shirt clean off of you, sighing once more when his mouth latches on your neck.
All traces of fluff and sweetness trickle only into lust and sin when he whispers into the hollow of your exposed throat.
"Jagi, I dont think you should ever do that in front of anyone else but me."
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Taehyung:
He too would miss your long hair; it's been such a part of you he loved to use to entertain himself (and you). He'd miss being able to run his fingers through your long tresses when he's having a stressful day or he'd miss tying it into weird hairstyles.
That is until you show up at the dorm with a fresh pixie cut and for once in your relationship, you had shorter hair than him.
Taehyung would stare, unanabashedly and unashamedly, with his big eyes and box mouth hanging open -- it'd be so funny that you can't help but laugh.
Your reaction would break him from his staring and he'd gulp, inspecting your haircut even more closely.
"Jagi...," he'd say, running his hands from the top of your head to the freshly buzzed hair on your neck.
It'll be a whole minute of you waiting for him to finish, while he stroked your hair with that awed (confused?) expression still on his face.
"Tae?"
The fingers in your hair stop as soon as he realizes that he was supposed to be speaking. "Uhm... it's so soft and fluffy..."
He looks so entranced that your heart melts -- as it is want to do when it comes to Taehyung -- and in these situations, there's really nothing left to do but jump and wrap your arms around him, nuzzling him under his jaw. Let him feel all that new-haircut fluff in all its glory.
"See? You can still play with my hair! I'm sure it'll be funnier now that it's shorter."
He buries his nose into the fluffiness of your short curls and you feel him nod as he holds you close.
Expect so many back hugs, hair-nuzzling and fluffed-out / messy hair competitions in the future.
"Bet your hair can't be fluffier than mine, jagi."
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Jungkook:
You were hella worried. You had only meant to get a trim but the hairdresser had taken things too far... you're left with a haircut far too short, half-hidden in a hoodie as you snuggle against the couch, tears in your eyes.
Your phone buzzes, and sure enough, it's Jungkook asking you how your appointment with at the salon went. Fresh tears well up and destructive thoughts swarm your mind as you cry onto your cushion. Would he hate it? Were you ugly to him now?
You ignore his texts and calls for the better part of the afternoon as you wallow, when your stomach finally grumbles. You don one of JK's comfortable hoodies and start to head out, ready for a night in with spicy noodles and ice cream. It's gonna be a long lonely night of pondering how to break it to your idol boyfriend that his girlfriend currently has to regrow 2 years worth of hair.
The moment you walk out of your apartment, you bump into someone and you're already making a run for it with an apology on your lips, when you feel a firm grip on your arm.
"Y/N?"
Well fuck.
You peek from under your hoodie and lo and behold it's Jungkook with his large eyes and his perfect smile.
"Found you, Jagi!"
The tears at this point are automatic as you try to break free of his grip. Seriously. Of all people. He can't see you like this..
"Woah, woah! Hold on, jagiya!"
You shouldnt have even tried -- nobody gets away from Jungkook the moment he gets hold of you.
"Baby, what's going on?" He tries to get you to look at him but you keep your head low and your hood down. You hear him let out an exasperated sigh.
"You haven't been replying to all my calls and texts. And now you won't even look at me."
The hurt in his voice sounds too palpable that you stop struggling. But instead of finally looking at him, you bury yourself on his shoulder and cry. He's gonna see it and hate it so much.
"Baby?" He's still taken aback by your crying, but his arms circle around you and rub your back.
"Please don't look," you manage to squeak out. "Maybe later. But not now."
He sighs against you and relents. "Alright."
He contents himself by rubbing soothing circles on your back until your sobs die down to stiffled whimpers. The warmth of his hands and his breathing lull you into much-needed comfort that you don't notice his fingers shifting to rub your neck under the hood, until it's too late. The moment you feel the slight hitch in his breath as his fingers graze the shortness of your hair, you press yourself flush to him, face completely buried under his neck and jaw.
Fingers play with the hair on your nape, warm and slow, working your tension away. When your shoulders finally buckle to relax, Jungkook becomes bolder and pulls your hood slowly off your head. You feel his other hand join his first to run fingers through what's left of your hair.
Slowly -- oh so slowly -- he lifts your head and he peaks at you with shining eyes and that bright smile you fell for.
"Pretty baby," he says, thumbs wiping your tears away. You can tell how much he wants to laugh at your puffy, tear-stained face. "Bet you're prettier when you're not crying."
You smack him on his arm and the laugh he's been keeping down finally bursts out as he pulls you back into another hug. You love him so much.
"Did you know you can make a heart with your bangs?"
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floralreddie · 5 years
Text
Love It If We Made It: Part 4
A/N: I’ve now posted the chapters to this on AO3 under the same name. 
Summary: Eddie lives. Richie stumbles through being in love with the man who used to be, and could still be, his best friend, and maybe something more. This is how they find each other again as adults, in the aftermath of finally killing It.
Warnings: swearing, description of gore, internalised homophobia. smut to come.
Part 1, Part 2, Part 3
He remembered carving the letters into the Bridge. 
It was that day, the horrible fucking day that Pennybitch had stirred up those feelings inside of him. The ones that were saved for when he was curled up in his single bed, his glasses off and blurred vision blinking into the darkness of his room. Those night were saved for thinking of boys, of girls, and of why one felt so different to the other.
He remembered realising he loved Eddie. It wasn’t anything spectacular. It was a simple blink over those jam jar fucking glasses of his when he was fourteen, as he looked at Eddie, who was scrubbing furiously at his dirty knees with a God damn hanky that he had produced from his pocket. 
That was Richie realised that, yeah, looking at his best friends pale skin, big brown eyes and thinking he was cute was, in actual fact, probably a little gay.
Gay.
Richie swallows, older than he was back then by a long fucking shot, and staring at the old letters etched into the tree. They were faded, less sharp, but were still there. Real.
R + E
He had been terrified when he had etched them into the fence of the Kissing Bridge. What if someone came? What if one of the Losers saw and knew what it mean? What if Bowers, Bowers who Richie had fucking impaled, had walked in on Richie doing this sacred, secret thing?
He is here now, though. He feels like he owes that to his younger self. Sure, yeah, maybe it’s a little weird when he kneels down, knife at the ready, and begins etching over those words. Maybe it’s a little fucking sad. Maybe he shouldn’t be pining after a man who wasn’t even divorced yet. But he was, and he always fucking would. If seeing Eddie again, after so many years, told Richie anything, it was that he was still hopelessly in love with the fucking idiot.
Richie stands back, looking at the freshly carved wood and scoffing a little. If the kid who carved those letters knew his older self would still be pining after the psychotic little asthmatic, he’s pretty sure said kid would kick Richie in the shin. 
Maybe he deserved it. 
-
He arrives back at the Inn, rolling his eyes sky fucking high when he sees Eddie standing outside, leaning against his Eiffel Tower of suitcases. He has his arms crossed in that angry little way, and his brow is scrunched up grumpily.
He pulls up beside Eddie, red car glinting in the sunlight, rolls down the window, and says, ‘Are you fucking serious?’
Eddie blinks rapidly, as if to say: am I fucking serious, Tozier? ‘You were gone for fucking ever, asshole. I thought you’d ditched me-’
‘Jesus Christ, I said I had to do one damn thing-!’
‘-Fucking’ weirdo. Since when were you all shitty and mysterious, Rich? The fuck were you - what the fuck are you doing? I can carry my own bags-’
Richie is out of the car, rolling his eyes every two seconds at Eddie’s dramatics, and hoisting the first of the suitcases off of the ground. Eddie’s car had been a rental, so they had decided to use Richie’s for the 7 hour drive from Maine to New York. ‘Jesus fuck, Ed’s, what the heck do you have in here? The clowns decomposing body-?’
‘That is not funny’.
Richie cracks a grin Eddie’s way as he dumps the suitcase into the back of the car. ‘It was a little funny’. Eddie stares, all big brown eyes, tight frown and crossed arms, and Richie is in love with his fucking idiot. Terribly fucking so. Richie grabs the other suitcase, stumbling and dragging it in a way that, yeah, might be a little overdone, but he is a sucker for that annoyed look on Eddie’s face. Cute. How could the man still be so fucking cute?
Eddie’s grumbles by the car, back a little hunched and hand hovering over his wound, beneath layers of clothing, and when Richie slams the boot shut with a flourish and a grin, all Eddie can do his stare at him and say, ‘This a fucking dumb car, Rich’.
Richie tilts his head, smiles and replies, ‘You know what’s dumb? Becoming a fucking Risk Analyst when you’re Eddie Kaspbrak and think walking down the street is a freaking risk-’
‘Fuck you, asshole. Fuck you’.
They climb into the car, and Eddie proclaims, as he shifts to make himself comfortable, that the car is cleaner than he thought it would. Richie, in return tells him that despite popular opinion, Richie is a fucking adult and knows how to look after himself. 
Eddie looks at him then, face in that familiar frown that Richie wants to wipe off his face, and says, ‘Maybe you aren’t half as much of a fucking wreck as I thought you’d be’.
As Richie starts the engine, he sighs and replies, ‘Thanks, Ed’s’.
‘Don’t fucking call me that’.
It is five minutes later as Richie tightens his hands on the steering wheel and they’re so fucking close to be out of Derry, that Eddie mutters, ‘Thanks for this, Rich. Really’.
Richie stiffens and looks at his briefly, and his glasses slide just a little down his nose. Fields pass by, and he thinks he remembers walking through some of them when he was a kid. He nods, swallows, and clears his throat. ‘Least I can do and, you...you basically saved my life back in that sewer, Spaghetti. Ol’ Richie would have been as skewered as you were back there-’
Eddie is still staring at the side of Richie’s head. He can feel it. ‘Yeah. I mean. You’re welcome’.
Richie nods. He clears his throat again. ‘You nervous?’
Eddie shrugs, then hisses in pain, and Richie looks at him in mild alarm. He watches as Eddie shifts in his seat and slouches to, Richie assumes, not hurt himself anymore. ‘Not nervous, more...guilty. I dunno. Myra is a nightmare, but she’s looked after me the past twenty years. And being back here, in Derry, remembering everything-’ His brow contracts and he swallows, and Richie looks quickly back at the road. Yeah. Remembering shit. He can relate. 
‘I get’cha,’ Richie says. He sniffs and shifts his face against his shoulder, trying to get his glasses back up the bridge of his nose. 
Eddie looks at him, but Richie keeps his eyes ahead. He can see a sign that says EXIT DERRY coming up. ‘Yeah?’ Eddie says. 
Richie nods. ‘Yeah, dude’. He swallows, breathes, and then says, ‘Y’know, what I said in the sewers still stands. You’re brave as shit, Ed’s’.
‘Oh’. Eddie is still staring at him. Richie watches as they pass the sign, and leave Derry behind them. ‘Thanks, Rich’.
Richie nods, then freezes and nearly crashes the fucking car when a lone finger appears in his vision, and his glasses are pushed up his nose. He has a flash of memories of Eddie doing nearly the exact same thing in their use, sometimes using his toes as they dangled in that hammock in Ben’s Clubhouse. 
He’s sure that when he turns to Eddie, who is settling his hand back into his lap, his are as wide as fucking saucers, and his face is turning a funny fucking shade of maroon. Eddie blinks at him, all innocent and shit, and nods when Richie chokes out, ‘Thanks’.
He glances at Eddie once in the minutes that follow, and catches another one of those secret fucking smiles.
Richie decides that Eddie Kaspbrak is going to give him damn heart failure. 
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