#another thing that’s been stressing me out too has been hurrying to apply to any school where I can take 2 classes online for this summer | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

taestefully-in-luv · 3 years

Note

I know your requests are closed but in case you reopening them, can you do Taehyung + #11 from Part I prompts pleaseeeee🥺🥺🥺

Prompt: “Oh no, there is only one bed, what will we do now?”

Pairing: Taehyung x female reader

Genre: smut

Word count: 3.3k

Warnings: unprotected sex

A/N: This request was supposed to be one of the lasts but I got inspired for this prompt hehe so enjoy! Sorry it’s a little longer than the others!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Taehyung drops his suitcase to the floor, exhaling a deep, frustrated breath as he eyes the room.

“Oh no, there is only one bed, what will we do now?” he huffs out, rolling his eyes to the back of his head. “I already have to go on this fucking trip with you, then we have to share a room…and now there is only one fucking bed. Of course.” He complains with a dark expression with a harsh blush on his cheeks. You don’t notice though.

You feel your own anger bubble over but you decide to laugh. Yes, you laugh because this whole situation is one cruel joke from the universe. This earns a look of disapproval from Taehyung. He shakes his head at you as you continue to chuckle, you not totally or completely caring about his judgements. You would be in this complete shit show with none other than Kim Taehyung. Your nemesis.

“I’ll sleep on the couch.” He states and you give him a pointed look.

“What couch? Taehyung look at this piece of shit room. We only have the bed and a chair.” You point out knowingly, “You can sleep on the floor though.”

“Like hell I am sleeping on the god damn floor.” He is pissed you would even suggest such a thing. “I’ll sleep on one end and you on the other.”

“Afraid I have cooties?” you ask with a smirk and he rolls his eyes at you, quite hard.

“Something like that.” He spits out, grabbing his suit case off the floor and setting it on the bed. “I’ll shower first.” He unzips his luggage and pulls out some of his belongings.

“Fine.”

You and Taehyung have been working together post college, you knew him in university though…quite well. You two were always in ongoing competitions in your classes—and you shared a lot of classes. You and he never quite got along, you two always finding something to argue about instead.

Then you both happened to apply to the same job and both got accepted…only furthering your ongoing competition of one upping another. You try to stay out of his hair though…you are aware you two don’t get along well….too much tension. And you are an adult now with an adult job that you take seriously, so you try to avoid Taehyung.

Unfortunately, your boss paired you two together for an overnight trip, and your company didn’t have the budget for two rooms—just the one. Taehyung offered to pay for another room but apparently the hotel only has the one, so here you two are with one room and one bed.

You place your own luggage on the bed and begin taking out your bed time clothes, your shampoo, your conditioner and your body wash. It’s been like, 30 minutes and he still in the bathroom. You sit on the bed and wait patiently, scrolling through your phone and mindlessly watching YouTube videos when finally Taehyung exits the bathroom.

You don’t even look at him as you stand from the bed with your things, you turn to head towards the bathroom, walking through the small room. Really your company couldn’t do better than this?

“There better be hot water, Taehyung.” You throw the comment over your shoulder and you hear Taehyung snicker from behind you.

“I guess you’ll find out.”

You force yourself to take a nice, deep breath trying to calm your nerves. Kim Taehyung is always trying to get on them any way he can. While you try to ignore him, he always makes his presence known.

“You’re such a child. I feel bad for you girlfriend.” You close the bathroom door with a little bit of force.

Your shower was…not freezing, at least. But you prefer it a bit on the warmer side. You clean the fogged up mirror with a towel and take a good look at yourself. You look tired, just plain tired. You dry off completely and slip on your panties and a bralette, they’re cute and comfortable.

You’re about to pull your t shirt over when you catch something in the corner of your eye. A mother fucking roach. You feel your whole body crawling with them as you stare at the one bug. You yelp out, throwing your t shirt over the bug…this causes Taehyung to rush to the bathroom door and ask what’s wrong over and over.

“y/n??? Hey, you okay???” his panicked voice goes unnoticed by you as you back into the bathroom door. “Unlock the door!” he begins rattling the doorknob, trying to get it open.

You finally notice the door shaking, and his stressed voice on the other side. Without thinking you hurry to unlock the door and open it. Taehyung’s eyes expand at least 4 times their size as he eyes you. You’re basically naked!

“Where the fuck are your clothes?” Taehyung stutters as he speaks, his eyes raking your half naked body.

“Roach! Roach!” you yell, pointing at the direction of your t shirt. “He’s there! He’s under my shirt!!!” you can’t help but walk impossibly close to Taehyung, grabbing a hold of his bicep with one arm while your other points down across the bathroom.

Taehyung feels himself freeze under your touch, your small hand trying to wrap itself around his arm. He tries to pull himself together though, slowly pulling your hand away from him.

“It’s under your shirt?” he asks quietly. “Why the fuck would you throw your shirt over it?” He can’t help the amused smile that paints itself on his face.

Taehyung walks towards the shirt and slowly lifts it up, his eyebrows begin climbing to the top of his forehead as he notices no sign of any roach.

“Uh oh.” He says calmly.

“Uh oh, what?” You walk closer to him, staying behind him as your arms go to grab both of his arms. “What?” You whine.

“It’s gone.” He says, then he shakes the T shirt around, but no bug falls out. Then he’s turning around to face you and his face goes unbelievably red.

“Here, put this one.” He throws the shirt at you and you jump back, your face gone pale.

“As if I am wearing that now!” you say as your voice cracks. You pinch your brows together as you think of what to do. “I don’t have any other shirts…” you pout and Taehyung looks at you and rolls his eyes.

“Just wear the god damn shirt, y/n.”

“No….” you frown at him and he almost feels bad for you. “I don’t want to sleep with the shirt a bug just touched.

“You are so ridiculous.” He scoffs, “I have an extra t shirt…although I don’t know which shirt you would avoid mo—”

“I’ll take the shirt!” you cut him off with an excited smile and he raises a brow at you.

“Really?” he walks past you in the bathroom, his shoulder bumping yours and you feel the heat rush to your cheeks.

“Well…it’s almost on the same level as the bug shirt but yeah, I’ll take it,” you lightly tease.

“Fine. But also can you please, I mean, please put some pants on…” Taehyung walks into the room, takes out his luggage and pulls out an extra shirt. You follow him in the room and catch the shirt when he throws it over to you.

“Thanks…” You mumble. You begin to pull it over your head, sniffing it as you do so. It smells like him. Something soft, yet deep. A scent you can’t find anywhere else.

“Let’s just try to sleep now.” Taehyung pulls back the covers and slips inside the bed. You on the other hand look at him like he is crazy.

“You think I can fall asleep with a roach on the loose?” you whisper shout, like as if the bug might hear you.

“You’ll have to try.” He mumbles lamely.

You huff out a short puff of air as you walk closer to the bed. Fine, you will try to fucking sleep. You pull back your side of the covers and get into the bed, pulling the sheets and blanket close to your face. You turn on your side, your back facing Taehyung and hide your nose and chin inside the t shirt. You feel yourself getting lost in its scent.

Maybe 20 minutes or so passes when you notice how restless Taehyung is…he keeps moving around, sighing out and lightly groaning. You are having a hard time falling asleep too but jeez, he is fucking dramatic. You decide to make conversation even though he will probably tell you to fuck off.

“Thanks for saving me earlier.” You whisper, turning yourself to lay on your other side, facing Taehyung.

“I don’t have a girlfriend.” He says instead of ‘you’re welcome’.

“What?”

“Earlier you said you feel bad for my girlfriend.” He turns on his side to face you, “But I don’t have one? So, I don’t know why you said that.”

“Aren’t you dating that girl you are always with? You guys are always at the coffee maker, giggling and shit.”

“Wait…Pauline?” he starts chuckling. “She’s cool. We have a lot in common…like, girls.” He continues to laugh as you get the hint.

“Oh.” You say, blinking up at the ceiling. “Well, even if it’s not her, I’m sure you have someone.”

“Why are you so concerned with my dating life?” Taehyung scoots a little closer to you. “You hate me. So why do you care?”

“You are the one who hates me. Not the other way around.”

Taehyung narrows his eyes at you before he starts shaking his head over and over. He slowly closes his eyes as he takes a deep breath.

“No. You hate me.” He says matter of fact. “I don’t hate you.”

“You so do hate me!”

“Well, I only hate you because you hate me!”

“But I don’t hate you!” You begin to sit up in bed, the blankets falling down your body. “You are annoying, yes. But I don’t hate you.”

Taehyung sits up in bed as well, he crosses his arms over his chest and exhales a deep breath.

“So you don’t hate me? I don’t hate you? Then why are we always fighting?”

“I don’t know, we have been fighting since college…I don’t know what else to do with all this energy I have for you.” You admit.

“Energy?” Taehyung tilts his head, “You mean, the tension?”

“Yeah.” You gulp. “The tension. This tension means we fight, right?”

“Well, what else could it mean?”

You swallow down the lump in your throat as you sit here…you know exactly what I could mean but you aren’t about to admit that right now. Taehyung has to know too, right? He isn’t that dumb is he?

“y/n…” he says your name differently than he has ever said it…like as if he had practiced to say it that way and he finally got to say it out loud. The softness in his voice is mesmerizing, his usual bite gone altogether.

“Yes?”

“Can I kiss—”

“Yes.”

Taehyung’s eyes widen at how quickly you respond, his mouths fall open and his heart starts racing. He really though you hated him…he really thought he had no chance…he really thought that hating you back was the only way for you two to have any sort of relationship.

“Be honest with me.” He begins, scooting even closer to you. “Have you thought about me before? Kissing you?...Touching you?”

“Yes.”

“Tell me how it started.” He grows warmer just talking to you like this. “Please.” His deep voice somehow goes lower with every word he speaks to you.

“Back in college…” You gulp, “You and I had a group presentation…I wanted to be in charge. But you kept talking over me—”

“Sorry…”

“I went home that night so angry, that the only thing that could calm me was to touch myself. And your stupid face is all I could think of.”

“Was that the only time you touched yourself thinking about me?” Taehyung’s hand crawls up your arm, until his hand is at your jaw.

“No.” you admit, your breathing becomes unsteady. “That was just the first.”

Taehyung’s thumb brushes against your cheek and you feel yourself grow impatient. You want him to kiss you. You want him to touch you. Years and years of pent up frustrations—

“When was the last time—”

“Shower.” You rush to say. “My mind was going crazy at the thought of sharing a bed with you.”

Taehyung smirks at you, his long fingers still at your jaw, he tightens his hold and he begins leaning into your space.

“Do you want me y/n?”

You feel your entire body shiver, you feel goosebumps rise on your skin and you feel the heat creep all over your body.

“Yes Taehyung.”

His lips crash into yours, they move against you with rushed desperation. Your hands immediately go to his hair, tugging on the strands, somehow pulling him even closer to you. You can’t help the moan that escapes your poor, weak body as his hands explore you. They start at your jaw but are soon traveling down your body. He cups your breasts in his hands, you groan when he squeezes them. Then you feel his fingertips graze down your stomach until he reaches the waistband of your shorts.

“Can we take these off?” Taehyung asks between kisses. “Please.”

“But you practically begged for me to put them on earlier.” You smirk as you kiss him back with passion.

“And I’ll beg for you to take them off.” He smiles in your kiss and you can’t help but roll your hips to his little idea.

“C’mere.” He guides you by the hips to straddle his lap. Your legs on either side of his as you start moving your hips back and forth, you can feel his member growing beneath you with every roll of your hips.

“Take it out on me.” He says between his erratic breaths. “How angry I have made you. I want you to take it out on me.”

“Okay.” You agree easily, your hand going to his throat. You squeeze lightly as you start riding his clothed dick. You grind into him, hard and fast. He meets you half way, thrusting up, his hard member rubbing against your clit so deliciously.

You look down at him, your eyes meeting his when he smirks at you. God, he looks so good like this. He’s totally fucked out, sweat dribbling down the side of his forehead, his tongue continuously darting out to wet to puffy lips.

“I need you.” You pant out, “Right now.”

Taehyung nods his head in understanding. He stops his hips from moving, lifts you up slightly as you both work on dragging his shorts and briefs down. His cock bounces off his lower abdomen in freedom, his swollen member leaking with precum. You rush to take your shorts and panties off and go back to his lap.

“Condom?” He asks, out of breath.

“Are you clean? I’m on birth control…plus, I’m clean.” You say quickly, the anticipation killing you.

“Yes, I’m all good.” He grabs his cock in his hand and starts pumping himself. “Now, please.” He whines.

You nod, hovering over his length, replacing his hand with yours as you take a deep breath before you are sinking down onto it. You whimper at the feeling since he is so big. He’s long, he’s thick and he is destroying you just by entering you.

“You okay?” His hand goes to cup your jaw and you try to nod your head. “Take your time.”

“You’re so fucking big…” you sink lower and lower, his cock filling you to the brim. “But it feels so good.” You say between rough breaths.

“You feel incredible, y/n….” his hands goes to your hips and he begins to help raise you up, you lift yourself off his length and slam back down. You are finally getting adjusted to his size that you’re able to rise and fall on his cock over and over.

Taehyung’s hands go to your ass cheeks, he squeezes them as he helps you rise and sink on his cock, your thighs burning as you ride him faster and faster. Your hand finds its way back to his throat and you push him back on the bed. He lays down as you ride him, his moans and your moans filling in the small space of the room.

“Fuck…so tight.” He slams his eyes shut as you make him feel so fucking good. “y/n…y/n…” He starts chanting your name.

“Help me…” you fall forward, your chest hovering over his as you start kissing him. Your tongue pushes past his lips and he tangles his tongue with yours immediately. Taehyung begins thrusting forward from beneath you. He fucks into you so hard and so fast that your vision starts to blur. He is hitting your spot with every brush of his dick and it just intensifies when you feel his fingers on your clit.

“I’m gonna come Taehyung…” you warn him, your erratic breathing hitting his face. “So fucking close…please don’t stop.”

Taehyung opens his eyes to look at you, he fucks you harder now. The sounds of his skin slapping your skin making this sound all the more filthy. He moans over and over because he is also so close.

“Where should I come?” He pants out, “Tell me now!” his body begins to tense as you reach back and fondle his balls. “Oh fuck!!” he screams, “y/n! y/n!”

“Inside me.” You lean down and kiss the side of his neck.

Taehyung thrusts so fucking quickly before he is stilling his desperate hips and shooting his cum inside you. His eyes shoot open as he comes, his body wanting to give out on him but he endures. He squeezes his eyes shut as he starts fucking you harder again, his fingers rubbing tight circles on your bundle of nerves. Your high pitched moans making Taehyung feel high as fuck. You finally yell out, whimpering in his ear as you come undone all over his cock, creaming it and soaking it. You feel your orgasm hit you so fucking hard that you collapse on top of Taehyung’s body. He wraps his arms around you and holds you tightly, your sweaty bodies mingling together.

“Wow.” You say, out of breath.

“Yeah, wow.”

Taehyung slowly slips his softening member out of you and winces, the feeling alone so overwhelming. He rolls your bodies over until you are both on your sides facing one another, he smiles at you and you feel yourself go shy.

“Just to be clear…you don’t hate me, right?” You ask.

“Does it look like I hate you?” he teases, reaching out and putting a strand of hair behind your ear. “I think we have a lot of years to make up for.”

“I don’t want this to be just about sex.” You say quietly. Taehyung’s eyes go wide at your words before he is smiling for you again.

“That wasn’t my intention.” He admits, “Maybe a date first?”

“Or a few.” You joke.

“We have years to make up for y/n, so it’ll be more than just a few dates.” He leans over and kisses your forehead.

“Are you still going to be annoying at work?” you stick your tongue out, Taehyung rolls his eyes playfully at you.

“It’s just healthy competition” he leans forward and kisses your lips this time. “And if I make you mad you can always just…take it out on me…” another kiss.

“You should make me mad more often then.”

"You mean even more mad?" He laughs.

"Yes."

#ask game #prompts #bts #bts fluff #bts smut #kim taehyung #Taehyung x reader #Taehyung fluff #Taehyung smut

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hansolmates · 3 years

Text

one more time (m)

pairing; (former) popular!jk x (former) normie!reader summary; it’s been two years since you’ve seen your former tryst jeon jungkook. you didn’t expect him to be applying for the internship you’re currently running, along with the rate your heart is running at the sight of him in a black suit. genre/warnings; self-deprecating language, your typical (future) co-workers!au, jungkook is a piner and so is oc, a lil bit of sneaking around, adulting, a mutual understanding of feelings (finally!!) smut in the form of—soft n’ dirty baybee, unprotected, cockwarming, overstimulation, minor praise and possession kink, cumplay, &you know that they gon have heart eyes the entire time w.c; 7.3k a/n; darn why am i so... emotional over this??? it started out as a meaningless drabble series but with all my lovely readers and moots it’s grown into such a fun, introspective series. thank u for loving this and joining me on this journey. for those of u who are new to this series feel free to read popular-ish first or as a standalone! [popular-ish masterlist]

if you’ve enjoyed this (whether as a standalone or as a series) please consider giving it a like and a share✨✨✨✨✨

“A mess, I’m a mess,” you sing-song to yourself, organizing the manuals on the clear glass by subject and size. The applications of all your new interns are alphabetized, not a form out of place. Everything’s perfect. “Alright Jessica, all twenty of the interns are accounted for.”

“Actually, there’s twenty-three,” Jessica quips, and you let your shoulders slump. Being part of the recruiting team of your company has been simultaneously exciting and stressful. Stressful because of the constant travel, but otherwise exciting because you loved your internship at your current company. You remember how nervous you were two years ago, and how much support and help you got from your recruiters. Applying to this team was a natural turn of events.

“A-are you sure, Jess?” you look through all the applications, count the amount of nametags, triple check the chairs. You’re sweating through your blazer, wondering where you went wrong.

The head of your recruiting team glues one hand to her hip, while the other hand is holding her iPad, scrolling with her thumb. You swallow, intimidated by Jessica’s golden wavy locks and her black-trimmed white Chanel pantsuit.

“Yep, but don’t be too hard on yourself. I just added three more recruits last night. I’ll get the chairs and the apps are being printed. No worries,” Jessica assures, gesturing for you to hurry up and get outside, “Call the babies in!” your team leader waves her finger around like a magic wand, commanding you to the front lines.

Krystal puts a hand on her shoulder, as always looking impeccable. She has virtually nothing to worry about. She’s a woman who has connections, courtesy of her team leader. “Let’s go, newbie,” she teases, pulling you through the door.

The recruits in the lobby are wide-eyed and vibrant, and you feel a little nostalgic as you watch them line up in front of you and Krystal as you sign them in. You would dwell on the feeling more if it wasn’t for your exhaustion, so you decide you’ll get a chance to take a road down memory lane when you get to the hotel.

“Name?”

“Xu Minghao.”

“Congrats Minghao, here’s your nametag and I’ll see you inside,” with a firm handshake, one recruiter is free to go.

“Name?”

“Chou Tzuyu.”

“Congrats Tzuyu, here’s your name tag and I’ll see you inside,” she doesn’t go in straight away, and moves to the side of the door. “Actually,” you pause mid-handshake with another recruit, staring at the woman in curiosity, “my boyfriend just got a call last night that he was accepted in this year’s batch. Do you have his name?”

“Yes, three more recruits were added,” you chirp, as if you totally did not hear that bit of information five minutes ago, “What’s his name—Jungkook?”

The both of you blink at each other. One hand on Tzuyu’s shoulder, eyes wide and mirroring yours. Your heart falls straight to your stomach, wanting to be eaten by acids and bacteria so you can stop any possibility of feeling any lingering affection for the boy you fooled around with in undergrad. Everything about him screams professional. He’s clean cut, a pinstripe black suit you never thought he’d own, and his hair is neatly trimmed and pulled behind his ears. His shoulders look tall and broad under the slight padding, his biceps comfortably stretching against the dark fabric. The golden complexion remains the same however, from the honest brown eyes to the coral pink lips that would always smile at you.

“Oh, so you do have his name!” Tzuyu clasps her hands together, delighted. He has a girlfriend, too. It’s then you realize you’ll be stuck with not just him, but her for the week. “You guys are so efficient. C’mon Kookie, let’s find some seats!”

“I still gotta get my nametag,” he replies goodnaturedly, gesturing to you, “save us some seats in the front?”

Tzuyu thinks nothing of it, squeezing his bicep before skipping off to the front row. Your eyes linger on her form, and it’s only then you realize how tall and intimidatingly pretty she looks in that plaid teddy bear brown skirt suit. You did not look that good when you were a budding undergrad.

By this time, Krystal has taken all your other recruits from your line, regarding you with a raised brow. She’s fast with her attendance, so you know you don’t have much time.

“I applied last minute,” Jungkook says, scratching his head, “was running out of options before graduation. I didn’t know you’d be one of my recruiters, though. Lucky me.”

Jungkook and you never ended up keeping in contact, at least as of recent. A check-in message a few months in, a happy birthday or holiday greeting late at night. But two years later and those messages are automatic, with no feeling or personality. You never thought you’d see him again, no less in the city.

“You just graduated with your masters, congrats,” you smile at Jungkook, although you’re sure the feigned emotion fails to reach your eyes, “IT Management, right?”

“You remembered,” Jungkook brightens, reaching over to squeeze your shoulder, “you look good.”

“Oh please—” you laugh to yourself, shaking your head, “I just got off a flight and I ran over in a two-day old suit, I don’t even have makeup on,” you didn’t feel this way in the morning, you just rushed to do the bare minimum to be enough and ran over to the convention hall. But now in the presence of Jungkook who looks so handsome and clean-cut, you can’t help but feel a little slighted at the sudden reunion.

“You’re always beautiful,” Jungkook exhales, and you clutch your clipboard closer to your chest.

You cough, an excuse for him to stop touching your shoulder, “You should go inside, it’s gonna start soon. We can catch up later.”

“Wait—” you make a scrunched up face that Jungkook can’t catch, but right in Krystal’s view. You can tell she’s laughing at you internally with her devious grin. “I just wanted to say, Tzuyu isn’t my girlfriend. We’re just…”

“Fooling around?” you didn’t mean for it to sound so sharp, but you wanted this conversation over. You have a job to do and Jungkook is your emotional barrier.

You and Jungkook used to fool around.

Jungkook winces, looking younger in his monkey suit. “I mean if you give me a chance to explain later—”

“Nametag, let’s go newbie.” Krystal slaps on the sticker herself, a little too hard if she asked. She doesn’t even bother to write his full name, just a bright green Jeon JK, IT Management tacked on his breast pocket, clashing with the gold pocket square.

“Sorry,” Jungkook tucks his tail in for now, bowing at you and Krystal as he scurries inside.

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding in. Krystal doesn’t bother to comfort you or ask what’s up—not that you want her to, even though you do want a breather before you have to go up on that stage and explain the itinerary for a week. The only thing you can do is smooth out your skirt, brush away the flyaways on your hairstyle and plaster a company-paid smile on your face.

The autopilot switch is on throughout the rest of the morning. Not just because Jungkook’s around, but the new position has got you on livewire. You’re glad that you’re not wearing base makeup because you are absolutely melting with all the high beam lights all up in your face as you talk through the week’s activities.

You could swear Jungkook clapped a little harder than most once you stopped talking, but maybe it’s because you’re not used to seeing Jungkook in the very front of a lecture. In fact, he was a very hard middle person, preferring not to show off his intelligence and let other people lead the discussion. Then again, it’s been two years, you don’t know how much he’s changed.

Jessica caps off the seminar with a great kick-off, the happy hour. The recruitment team picks a four star restaurant under their hotel so the recruits can enjoy themselves before going off to the training facility for a week.

And by training facility, you also mean yet another four-star hotel. You knew you made the right decision by joining this company because the benefits are impeccable, and value personal enjoyment just as much as they value work ethic. In the morning you and the recruits will be driving uptown to a private resort where there would be classes in the morning, and recoup in the evening. You’re very much looking forward to the infinity pool on the roof.

The recruits are ushered out as soon as you’re done, and that’s when you step out of the shadows to clean up the chairs and the brochures left behind. Thankfully Jungkook is probably following the norm and going back to the hotel to freshen up before dinner. Once the room is completely empty, you rip off your blazer and let yourself relax.

It’s going to be a long week.

Jeon: where u @?

You: hotel room

Jeon: why? Thought we were all gonna have dinner together

You: nahhh, this night is for the recruits! You’ll be tired of our faces by the end of the week, enjoy it while you can 😉 have a good night

You sigh in contentment, relaxing further into the silk sheets. You just finished your skincare routine, letting some mindless drama play as the essences and serums sink into your skin. All you want is one Jungkook-free night. Tomorrow you’ll be stuck training him and Tzuyu for the week and you want to take tonight to emotionally prepare yourself.

Your phone rings once more.

Big Baddie Jessica Jung: krystal and i ordered takeout in the restaurant downstairs. Can u bring it to our room? Plsssssss

Little Baddie Krystal Jung: it’ll be faster if you do it, we even got u a lil somethin🍰🍰🍰

Taking in your outfit, you grimace. You’re dressed for bed, a large nightie with your hair pulled back and a little pink bunny tie headband on top. Can’t they get room service to send it up? You admire your boss but you don’t understand why she needs to display her power over and over, she already knows you’ll follow her to the ends of the earth.

Quickly slipping into a pair of sneakers you run down the expanse of the hotel. It’s easy to spot where the recruits are, livin’ it up in the large restaurant that takes up half the space of the ground floor. Most of them are pretty drunk, hoping to sleep off the hangover on the four-hour bus ride. You have absolutely no judgement, two years ago you were in the same position.

Thankfully you don’t have to go far into the restaurant, as the hostess immediately knows Jessica’s order. While you wait for her to go into the kitchen and get it you drum your fingers against the counter, hoping no one notices you. It’s akin to when you’re a teacher in a mall, hoping none of your students gawk at you in the middle of Victoria’s Secret.

“Ah, well Jungkook and I aren’t official yet—but very soon.”

Your ears perk up at the sweet voice. Tzuyu is leaning across the open bar next to the counter, sipping on a mango mojito. She’s dumped the blazer for the night, showing off her soft skin and slender arms with a sleeveless cream blouse.

“Then where is he?” another recruiter asks, gesturing to the expanse of the lobby.

“He’s not much of a party person,” Tzuyu shrugs, tipping back her drink.

You scoff, plastering on a smile to the hostess as you grab your bags and walk as fast as you can out of the lobby. You’ve never felt more like an old hag until now. Sure, most of the recruits are younger than you, but seeing Tzuyu talk so freely about her relationship with Jungkook has you in a bit of a spiral. The day of graduation, you told Jungkook not to wait for you. Heck, you’re only interested in the idea of what you could’ve had with Jungkook.

These thoughts only cloud you further as you jab the elevator buttons all the way up to the suites where you and the Jungs reside. You relax a little when you see a strawberry cheesecake sitting prettily on the top of their order, your name written on the label with a little heart. Hanging their bag on the door handle of their room, you make your way back to your suite.

You freeze when you see a floppy-haired Jungkook roaming the hallway, looking like a clueless child hobbling around in slippers and wide eyes at any sparkly item that decorates the area. It doesn’t even look like he tried attending the happy hour tonight, dressed in an impossibly big heather grey sweatsuit that swallows his form.

“Are you lost?” you ask tentatively, as if you’re talking to a toddler lost at the mall.

Jungkook relaxes considerably at the sound of your voice, and he replies, “Was tryna find your room since you didn’t reply to my texts.”

“So… you decided to check all the rooms?”

“Yep,” he pops the p with a smack of his lips, “I figured the recruiters would be far away from the party so I started at the top. Thankfully I got to Jessica’s room first. Didn’t have to knock on too many doors. Only one old man got annoyed at me.”

“You’re crazy,” you chuckle, slipping in your keycard to let Jungkook in.

“Fuck, this room all to yourself?”

Jungkook doesn’t hesitate to kick his slides to a corner of the wall, flopping atop your bed and clutching your baby blue koala plush in his arms. The king sized bed is enough for his legs to stretch comfortably without falling off the edge, and he eagerly pads his feet against the soft fabric.

It warms you to think that Jungkook is comfy enough to lay on your bed and hug your stuffed animals, a semblance of friends that you’ve missed for such a long time. Last year the team you worked for was great, you loved the people and even now you consider some of them friends. This year the team is a little smaller, and since your two other co-workers are sisters, it’s a little harder to nudge yourself in the direction of friendship.

As soon as you sit down against the headboard, Jungkook’s eyes soften. Everything feels so different and the same. The threadbare pajamas that either of you haven’t had the heart to throw away since they’re so damn comfy, yet your bodies are a little more worn and your eyes a little more droopier than usual.

“So,” Jungkook bites his lip, not in the sexy way, but the nervous way, “about Tzuyu—”

“Jungkook, you don’t have to explain yourself,” you slump on your corner of the bed, regarding Jungkook with guilty eyes. “I really shouldn’t be feeling the way I’m feeling. It isn’t fair and I don’t want to jeopardize your internship.”

“And… what are you feeling?”

“Dumb things.”

“Your feelings aren’t dumb.”

“This time they are.”

“I’ve always shared my feelings, it’s unfair that you never want to share yours,” Jungkook sits up, criss-cross applesauce, pensive. “Maybe it’s my fault for not making you feel comfortable enough to share, but I feel like the reason why we never worked out was because we never tried hard enough to have a proper conversation.”

How could you have missed all the indicators, all the good words, all the kindness Jungkook has given you that last semester? “You’re absolutely right,” you let your insecurities, your apprehensiveness, get in the way. You think in two years you’d do better to eradicate this kind of behavior, but lately you haven’t had many friends to express your feelings to. “Tell you what, I’ll work harder to express how I feel. No exchanges, no nothings. I owe you this.”

“You owe me nothing,” Jungkook smiles, “I just think it would be nice to y’know, talk. As friends.”

“Right, friends.”

“So, will you hear me out about Tzuyu?”

“Let me open my cake,” you pull out your bag with the cheesecake, which thankfully has two spoons, “it seems like we’ll be having that kind of conversation.”

Everyone is more amicable because of food. According to Jungkook, Tzuyu has a hardcore, ten-year plan for her twenties. After a couple of dates with Jungkook, Tzuyu whips him into the plan. Mentions that she’s well-bred and has a family reputation to uphold. Says IT Management is something completely desirable in a partner, that he’s sensible and wonderful and would like to be committed full-time.

“And she talked to her parents about me and said that I’m a good prospect for marriage. Like I’m another pillar in her plan!” Jungkook cries, taking a monstrously sized bite of your cheesecake, wallowing away.

This is akin to sleepovers you’ve always wanted to have in high school, down to the food gorging. You can’t help but be fascinated, “So are you wrapped up in an engagement? Is this a scary rendition of Crazy Rich Asians?”

“You just can’t turn a one-eighty like that on a fifth date,” Jungkook shakes his head, reeling at the emotional whiplash, “she’s really nice. Really organized, really perfect. It really intimidates me.”

“Is she what you reaaaally want?” you can’t help but ask, rolling your eyes at the excessive use of the word, and tamp down the pain in your stomach by eating a forkful of creamy cheesecake.

“I don’t know!” Jungkook replies exasperatedly, “Obviously I’m worried since she wants to put a ring on it. I told her she needs to back off. Right after the seminar I said she had no right telling other people we’re boyfriend and girlfriend. She didn’t say much, just frowned and walked away.”

You roll your eyes, scraping the leftover graham cracker crust from the edge of the plastic plate. “According to her, I heard you two are planning to make it official very soon.”

His eyes widen, “I really bring girl trouble wherever I go, don’t I?”

“Since I’ve known you,” you half-joke, putting away the plastic cutlery on the nightstand.

You two sit in silence for a few moments, letting the television fill the room with mindless static about some sappy Hallmark movie. Tentatively, you land a hand on Jungkook’s knee. He looks down at your tiny fingers, giving his skin an experimental squeeze of comfort.

“I don’t want her,” he finally says.

“Okay,” you reply, “you won’t even have to talk to her if you don’t want to. I can arrange the groups this week so you don’t have to be around—”

“Give me one week,” his eyes flash to yours, dark and sharp.

“Jungkook. You have your determined face on,” it makes you sweat.

“Because I’m determined to win you over, once and for all,” you eyes widen, and Jungkook visibly freezes, “was that too much? I’m kind of on an emotional high today. I didn’t expect to see you today and it kind of threw me into a loop. I thought I might be running into you once I started my internship but I didn’t think you’d be my recruiter. And then you went on that stage all bad-ass talking about work and you looked so gorgeous in your suit and I was so proud knowing you made it and IrealizedhowmuchImissedyou—”

“Jungkook, slower,” you’re feeling a little woozy as well, equally overwhelmed. “You’re just saying this because you didn’t expect to see me—”

“You’re deflecting, again.”

“I’m scared, okay?” you blurt, throwing your hands in the air. “You’re right, this is all so sudden. So can’t we just start being friends and see if it takes us somewhere? You don’t have to win me over, just support me like I’ll support you.”

“I’m sorry,” Jungkook moves up the bed, so he’s leaning against the headboard as well. His long legs stretch farther than yours, and it feels oddly domestic as you talk it out and stare at the television screen. “I’m just, worried I’m running out of time.”

“I'm not going anywhere this time.”

“I know,” Jungkook shakes his head, ridding himself of his torrid thoughts. Conceding, he gestures to the television, pulling out the remote under your pillow, “wanna watch television, or catch up?”

You last about an hour until you knock out. However, Jungkook keeps you entertained up until that moment, as you exchange your lives and stresses. Everything meshes together, you’re not sure if it’s the charm that comes with late night talks, but you feel like you can talk to Jungkook about anything if given the time. You melt when he strokes your hair till the last minute, wishing you a goodnight and a promise of more.

“Okay, I’ve gone over most of the work ethics in the manual,” you smile nervously when you see your glazed over recruits, nearly falling off their chairs. Even Krystal is bored out of her mind, discreetly playing with her phone in the back under her manual. Of course you’d get stuck with teaching the boring classes. “Any last minute questions before we head off for dinner?”

Tzuyu shoots her hand up, “Are romantic relationships allowed in the workplace?”

Jungkook promptly chokes on his water bottle. He looks up at you, panicked. Ignoring his terror, you paint on a thin smile towards the young woman, “Like I mentioned earlier, romantic relationships between employees are not frowned upon, so long as you’re not working under or over someone in the same department.”

“Right, just wanted to make sure,” Tzuyu is all chipper smiles as she thanks you.

If you were still twenty-one, you’d gag at the pointed look she sends Jungkook. They’re sitting diagonal from each other, and Jungkook makes a point to pretend to be interested in your lecture until the very end.

You’re halfway done with recruitment week, and while you’re not shocked at how fast the week has gone by, you’re fairly disappointed that Jungkook and you haven’t had time to meet up in private. So far it’s been easy enough to keep your friendship (and past sexual relationship) a secret, but something dark and eager tells you how much you want more. The recruiters are eager to leave, all twenty-three of them grouping off and talking about what they want to eat for dinner. Everyone except a certain dark-haired fellow, who’s hair is currently bouncing off it’s styled coiff, wanting to return to it’s normal non-gelled self.

“Kookie,” you raise a brow at the interaction, Tzuyu leaning over her chair to Jungkook’s, “wanna get dinner tonight?”

Jungkook’s taking an excruciatingly long time to pack his things, raising a brow at her, “I’ve told you already, I don’t want to be involved in whatever plans you have.”

“Oh-kay,” Tzuyu rocks back and forth on her oxford heels, pursing her magenta pink lips, “then why don’t we at least walk back to the hotel together? I really want to talk about some things that might change your mind.”

“Nothing will change my mind,” Jungkook’s determined face has been staying strong for the week, from the way he makes sure he’s first in your class to the simple “good morning” and “good night” texts you exchange. “Besides, I have a date tonight. And I really want to talk to the recruiters about a personal work matter, so can you please leave?”

You try not to snort at how blatant Jungkook was being. You pretend to organize your folders, throwing whatever random notes you have in your bag for later.

“A date,” she twitches, “with who?”

“Someone that doesn’t treat me like a stepping stone in her career path,” Jungkook deadpans, and that’s all it takes for Tzuyu to huff and walk away from the hall.

You think Tzuyu is like a bug, relatively harmless, but someone who gets on your nerves.

“A date, huh?” Krystal quotes, finally looking up from her phone. Her sharp, cat-eyes linger at the door, wondering if Tzuyu is going to pop out and try to drag Jungkook by the reins. Finally, she plants her stare between you and Jungkook. “So, you two fucking?”

“Former fucking,” Jungkook supplies helpfully, and you jump off your podium to elbow him in the ribs, “ow—what?”

“You just don’t tell Krystal we’re fucking!”

“Former fucking,” he chastises, but the eyes he sends you are a little sultry, and you wonder if he’s thinking of fucking in the future. You reel yourself back, focusing on the third party.

But you anticipate that Krystal couldn’t care less, and you’re grateful for that. While a smaller work team means a smaller possibility of close work relationships, you do like the drama-free environment. “Like you said,” Krystal shrugs, slinging her briefcase over her shoulder, “romantic relationships in the workplace are not frowned upon.”

You wring your hands between your bag when Krystal finally makes her getaway, and you look up at Jungkook. “So,” you smile wryly, “you have a date tonight, huh?”

“With a pretty working woman,” he sighs dramatically, putting a hand over his chest, “that is, if she’ll have me.”

“Consider yourself taken.”

Jungkook and you sneak away to your suite once again. To your surprise, the suite is decorated in rose petals and a bottle of champagne sits in an ice bath on your bedside. A large pizza pie sits beautifully on your coffee table, and the television is playing lo-fi hip-hop.

You feed Jungkook champagne-dipped strawberries as you gorge on the joy that is baked bread and cheese.

And when he kisses you, it’s slow and sweet, like you have all the time in the world.

It’s the last day of recruitment week, and all classes ended at noon so the interns can use all the resort’s amenities to the fullest. Many of the interns, including yourself, Jessica and Krystal, are on the rooftop celebrating a successful workweek. Staff and interns alike are buzzing around, eager to top off their weekend with some relaxation and sun.

Jungkook is with his new team, conversing with other IT employees. You try not to stare too hard at your reignited flame, tipping back a cutely decorated glass of fruit. His arms ripple as he tips back the liquid. He’s wearing a tank top and you could swear his biceps have gotten meatier. Unfortunately you hold yourself back, after all the internship isn’t quite over and you still are a professional.

At the end of the weekend you really have nothing to worry about, you know that.

But Tzuyu? She irritating.

“I just don’t understand,” Tzuyu suspects nothing of your budding relationship with Jungkook. You’re thankful for that because towards the end of the week, it was getting harder and harder to be subtle when you two send each other heart eyes from three meters away.

Tzuyu sounds like she’s talking to herself, the way she stares into the infinity pool, despite the fact that her friends are surrounding her with rapt attention. You’re a cabana away from her, sipping languidly at your drink while Jessica and Krystal nap next to you. Even though you can’t see Tzuyu, you can practically feel her pout emanating through the fabric that separates you two. Despite the fact that she’s been offered a great intern position given her degree and experience, she’s still upset. For her, is that not the most important part of this whole week?

“Jungkook’s really not that great if he’s going to turn me down like that,” Tzuyu seethes. You should write up her nonsense in a book and publish it, really. “Why waste time when he has the whole package right in front of him?”

It’s then you realize why you’ve been so torn, so strung up and wound tight all these years. Just like college, all shy and hesitant to take a step forward while Jungkook was ten steps ahead, you were worried. You let other people’s thoughts stop you from making the leap, girls like Tzuyu that never meant to intimidate you, but you let their presence get up in your head and control the nonexistent hierarchy.

But two years later, and that doesn’t matter. It never mattered. Jungkook is no longer the all-star lacrosse player, but what remains is his heart, full and willing.

Everything Tzuyu just said was… wrong. Irrevocably, inexplicably messed up. But the idea of “wasting time” does strike a chord within you. Are you wasting time? At this point, your feelings of each other are pretty clear. What are you two waiting for, again?

You thought Krystal was sleeping, considering her sunhat sitting atop her face, but once she hears you packing away your bag she whistles, “Go get ‘em, tiger.”

Sending a quick text to Jungkook, you make a beeline for your destination. You don’t even bother looking for him in the crowd.

You: meet me by the elevator at the very end of the lobby.

Not a minute passes by when Jungkook joins you at said elevator. He has two glasses of champagne in his hands, and offers one to you, “tired of the party?” he asks.

You clink drinks, easily tipping yours back. “It’s not our thing,” you declare with a small smile. Jungkook's eyes soften, glancing back and forth between your face and the soft pleats of your marigold sundress. His hair is pushed back, sticky from sweat and chlorine, dark bangs hanging over the shaved sides of his head. You turn your head slightly as you wait for the elevator, biting your lip as you're sorely reminded of how sexy Jungkook looked at the dive pool half an hour ago.

The elevator dings, and it’s wide enough for you to slip in at the same time. You put your champagne glass in the corner of the elevator for now, hoping you don’t accidentally step on it. In closed quarters, you can smell the slight tang of chlorine coming from Jungkook, combined with his own brand of musk.

Jungkook looks younger tonight, happier. Having just finished graduate school and working towards a full-time gig, another chapter in his life has started. His hair is no longer in that tight-whipped coiff he struggled all week to maintain, loosened in its natural wave due to the pool water and heat. His cheeks are a little ruddied and plump, a sign he’s been enjoying the food this week.

The door barely closes when you get it out, pulling at his hand to face you.

“Jungkook, I like you,” you blurt, and his eyes bug out considerably. Out of reflex, his hand sharply squeezes yours. “You don’t have to say anything, because you’ve been saying everything for the majority of our relationship. I really like you, I really liked you back then too. You’re still so sweet, and loving, and smart and I’ve just been too dumb and insecure to—”

Jungkook seals your confession away with a desperate kiss, and you turn into a pile of mush at the contact. Relief seeps into your bones, sings into your system. When he pulls away, he looks serious. He doesn’t let you get far, and clutches your face between his two hands so you can’t turn your head. Your soft cheeks fill between his fingers, warm and cradled.

“Never call yourself that,” Jungkook exhales, regarding you with firm eyes, “you’re beautiful, and intelligent, and the person I want.”

“I don’t wanna take it slow anymore,” you mumble against his lips, leaning in so that you can barely nip at the pink skin. “Want you now, need you now.”

“You have me now,” Jungkook agrees, and as soon as the elevator dings open to your floor, he scoops you up into his arms.

By all means it’s not graceful, he’s clutching you like a baby with his hands over your butt as he jiggles you all the way to your front door. Clinging onto him like a koala, you press kisses to his cheeks as he leads you to your room. You laugh and giggle like teenagers, as he fumbles between your breast to grab the card key that’s nestled between your bra. It’s warm in his hand as he swipes it through the reader, pushing you inside.

“Is it bad that I’m kinda turned on by the fact you got my key out of my boob?” you joke, although the contact of his rough fingers against your breast is a feeling well missed.

“Is it bad that I’m always turned on when you lecture in seminars?” Jungkook retorts, kicking the door closed with his slipper-clad foot as he walks you to the bed. “Fuck, I can hear you talk about insurance benefits all day.”

“Didn’t know my sex appeal extended that way—oh fuck—”

Your vibrant marigold sundresses provides easy access to Jungkook as he throws you onto the mattress, your skirt billowing over your waist as he makes quick work to expose more of your skin.

“No more talking, more loving,” he’s crazed, doesn’t hesitate to move your bikini bottoms to the side as he rubs lovingly at your long-lost bud, “need to fuck you, now. It’s been so fucking long.”

“Kook,” his breath is warm against your already sopping cunt, and you lift your hand to run through the strands of his messy hair. It only takes one firm tug and you’re able to pull him up by the root of his hair, cranberry juice tinted lips with a faint sheen because he couldn’t help himself to have a little taste of you. “Baby, let me touch you. Let me show you how much I want you," you coo with a pout, hands trailing over the drawstrings of his trunks.

You can see how much Jungkook wants to say yes. His eyes glow with the possibility, bright and wanting in the afternoon sunlight. The image of him shoving his cock deep into your throat, so far that you can taste it in every crevice of your mouth. Your nails gripping into his ass as you go deeper, tears pricking your eyes as cum seeps out of your pretty lips.

But he firmly shakes his head, fingers doing the devil’s work as he eases a digit in you. A little noise of protest bubbles in your throat, but it soon dies out as soon as he finds the right spot to reduce you to mush.

“Next time,” he exhales against the juncture between your thigh and pelvis, picking up the pace and adding another finger, “if you touch me, I’ll cum right then n’there. This is enough for me, you’re enough.”

So you let him have what he wants. You’ll make it up to him in the morning, and the day after, and the day after. You shed your clothes, the sundress extra forgiving as it slides off your body, revealing a swimsuit that hasn’t even touched the pool. You feel a little self-conscious as he drinks you in after so long, but he quickly shucks off his clothes to match your state of nakedness.

You remember how you tiptoed around your first night with Jungkook, taking great care to make sure it was fleeting, how dark the room was as you let your pleasure take over your senses. Two years later and the sun is setting, gold bleeding through your sheets and illuminating the room. There's no need to hide.

“I must say, we’ve both kept it tight,” Jungkook teases with a wink, squeezing your hips so he can change positions.

You silently agree, your fingers slipping across the washboard of his waist.

“Mm, and still so fuckin’ cute,” Jungkook marvels as he pulls you up on his lap. Your whole body is flushed with want, one hand squeezing your breasts while the other plays with the curls of hair that lead to your sopping wetness. You glide your core over Jungkook’s stomach, sighing as you take note of the abs that clench under your heat and his hot member that rubs between your ass.

It’s a tight fit when you finally sink down on him, but the burn only fuels your desire as he stretches you wide. His grip is helpful as he guides you through the motions. It’s been awhile since you’ve been this physical with someone, and it’s almost comical when you both sigh in contentment at the contact.

“I’ve missed this,” you mumble, biting into his shoulder as he thrusts up.

“Mm, it feels different, right?” Jungkook hums, keeping a slow pace. The drag is wonderful, and you know that he’s trying to prolong the moment. He reaches for your head, presses his forehead to yours as he speaks, “you’re mine now, right? For real.”

“I’m all yours, Jungkook,” you press kisses everywhere. No need to hide anymore. You bleed love into every kiss, to his jawline, the little freckles across his chin, his lips. “This is romantic and all, but I really want you to dick me down. Which is why you need to go a little faster, you sap.”

Jungkook scoffs, “A pillow princess is what you are.”

He stops moving, and you two sink further into the mattress without its springs bringing you back up. The both of you are acutely aware of how wet you both are, your combined arousals seeping between your seams and dripping onto Jungkook’s thighs. But the young man simply relaxes against the headboard, baiting you.

“Kook,” you whine, clenching against his member. Your hot walls have a mind of their own, unable to stifle their desire. Sweat lines Jungkook’s brow as he tries his hardest not to move, just simply be.

“Tell me how much you want me, princess,” the pet name has you clenching harder, and you pout.

“Baby,” you whine, leaning forward to whisper in his ear. There’s no one in the room, and you’re sure no one is on this floor because everyone’s on the rooftop, but the words you’re about to say are for Jungkook and Jungkook only, “please, I want you to pound me into this mattress until I can’t walk anymore. I want to cry out your name so everyone can hear I’m yours. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” you nip at his lobe, and let your thumb nick at the simple silver rings that adorn his ear. You hear a click of his teeth, indicating the clench of his jaw as his muscles flex around your body, "I want you to fill me with your cum until I’m eating it, and—and—oh Kook!”

Your words aren’t enough to distract you from his large dick sitting prettily between your folds, and you’re suddenly cumming, all by the mere thought of what’s to happen. You’re shuddering in his arms, and Jungkook soothes you by running his fingers over the spine of your back, distracting you from the utter mess you’re making on the sheets.

“Such a good girl,” Jungkook coddles you, stroking your hair, “can my good girl take it?”

“Y-yes, Kook,” you nod eagerly, fighting the overstimulation as he nudges you off his lap. You’re pliable, as Jungkook sets up the pillows for you to rest comfortably as you get on your elbows and knees, “your good girl.”

You shudder as your bare pussy starts to feel cold, immediately missing the warmth Jungkook can provide. You can practically feel his hot gaze burning in your back, his large palm squeezing your ass as he marvels at how ready and eager you are for him.

“It’s so easy to slip inside,” Jungkook rubs your nectar across the head of his cock, swirling around your engorged skin as he slips right inside. You both moan at the stretch, “Finally, my adorable baby, you like this? You like getting pounded like the dirty girl you really are?”

“Mm, yes!” you squeal, clutching onto the feather down pillows for dear life as Jungkook displays his strength, one hand gripping your hips as the other weaves itself into your hair. It’s a delicious mix of pleasure and pain, and the lewd sounds of each other’s juices and his balls against your ass echoing in the room.

“Y-yeah,” despite his power, his thrusts are sloppy, and you know he’s almost at the edge, “and I like you, so so much. I want to make you cum everyday, make you happy and—mph—” he gives up on talking, focusing entirely on his destination.

“Cum, baby,” you urge, melting when his one hand comes to thread with your own, “fill me up with you.”

He flips you on your back, and you finally see how desperate Jungkook is to cum. His eyes are glassy, filled with emotion as he strokes himself to completion. Your hand reaches up to cup his damp face, and that’s when you feel him loosen. Hot, pearly strings cling to your pussy, decorating your skin in his essence. Your fingers immediately reach down to swirl the cum between your folds, and Jungkook groans at the picture, immediately throwing your hands to the side to kiss you senseless.

There’s so much pouring between the two of you, affection, the feeling of being cherished, so much that you can feel the whole world reducing to the two of you.

“All mine,” he whispers to himself, as if he still can’t believe it. And then, he puts up a poker face as he leans into you, resting his head gently on your breasts, “I knew I only needed a week.”

You narrow your eyes, flicking lightly at his forehead. You’re sticky, sweaty, and covered in cum and while you’re exhausted, the built in jacuzzi in your washroom looks very enticing right now. “Jungkook, this happened naturally. I said we would try as friends first and we did. We just so happened to escalate pretty fast.”

“I don’t think it was that fast,” Jungkook nuzzles his face into your skin, “it’s been two years since college. Being popular did do a number on our relationship, but we caught up."

“You were popular-ish,” you roll your eyes, teasing him. His face falls, and you can’t help yourself. Your hands reach over to cup his cheeks, and you happily squish the supple, pouty flesh. He’s adorable. “Kim Taehyung though? Park Jimin? Absolute heartthrobs I couldn’t stand to be near them—ah!”

Jungkook seems to read your mind, lifting you bridal style to drag you over to the bathroom where the marble jacuzzi sits tauntingly. The stone is ice cold as he brings you both inside, immediately turning on the nozzles to fill it with steaming hot water. You find the tiny bottle of lavender suds, spilling the soap in an arc. His legs slip over yours, cradling you so that your back is pressed against Jungkook’s chest.

“Being popular never mattered,” Jungkook shakes his head, pressing a kiss to your jaw, “I realized the only person who I really needed to notice me was you.”

bonus.

You wake Jungkook up the next morning with your lips wrapped around his cock, fresh cherry balm rubbing down the thick veins until he's cumming down your throat.

"Wow," Jungkook whistles, licking his lips at the sight of you sucking the arousal from your thumb. He huffs against the pillow, eyes darting to the open organza window, letting in the early morning light. The rooftop of a multi-star hotel, white Egyptian cotton seats, a full time job on the way and waking up in the most blissful way possible.

"I have a proposal," you crawl on top of him like a koala, hooking your thighs between his blanket clad body.

"I do," he replies instantly, looking straight at you with droopy puppy eyes.

"Not that kind," you slap his chest, "where are you living once orientation is over?"

"Mm, there's a boarding house near a local translation. It's probably an hour commute? Not too bad."

"So, I just leased a townhouse last month," you bite your lip, tucking your head between his neck to hide your embarrassment, "I was gonna rent out the spare room and put an advert in the paper but…"

"I do."

"I said it isn't a marriage proposal."

"Asking you to live with me is basically a marriage proposal."

"There will be no benefits," you sit up, wagging a finger in his face, "you'll be paying rent and half the utilities. And you will be doing all the laundry."

"Sure," Jungkook replies loftily, squeezing your ass, "you're benefit enough."

#jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #btswritingcafe #btsghostie #kwritersworldnet #goldenclosetnet #jungkook fic #jungkook scenario #bts fic

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flowesona · 3 years

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Wicker Man - yandere! jungkook x reader

so my child @babeejk wanted a y! sugar daddy jungkook, and i live for nothing if not to fulfil her jungkook obsession so here we are.

word count: 2.1k

pairing: y! jungkook x gn! reader

Most people (Y/N)’s age would spend their Friday night partying, hanging out with friends, trying new things. But (Y/N) was spending the best days of their life entertaining a young, rich CEO who would no doubt dump them for a new pretty face in a few years.

Jungkook was a sweet gentleman. Always made payments on time, and usually never pushed the boundaries. But there were instances where his hands crept a little too far for (Y/N)’s liking, or his grip on (Y/N)’s arm got a little too tight in the presence of his friends.

He was peaceful enough that Friday night, having ordered takeout for the two of them and put on a movie. Clearly, he needed the company of (Y/N) more than their body as most of their previous sugar daddies had coveted.

With (Y/N) placing their plate down onto the coffee table and relaxing into his arms to watch the movie, it was almost like they were dating. Jungkook didn’t dare push this idea often, happy to stick to the simple domesticity they had as if they were already in love and nothing needed to be said.

He pressed a kiss on the back of (Y/N)’s neck, enjoying the fleeting feeling of his lips on their skin.

“You seem tired, baby. Want to go to bed?” The film was reaching its climax, but (Y/N)’s eyes were barely able to stay open.

“Mmmmm.” They replied, not protesting as he lifted them like a bride and carried them into his room to rest on his king sized bed.

(Y/N) had allowed a gentle smile to settle on their lips, their eyes having drifted closed. Jungkook settled himself beside them, feeling equally as at peace.

“I wish every night could be like this.” He mused allowed. “Would you like that, baby?”

(Y/N) was only his for two nights a week - Fridays and Saturdays, wherein he would often have them stay for the night.

“Mmmmm.” (Y/N) gave an ambiguous grumble as he hooked his arms around their chest to spoon them.

“Really? I can’t wait, baby. I love you, so much.”

◦◦,`°.✽✦✽.◦.✽✦✽.°`,◦◦

The morning after, (Y/N) woke up to an empty bed. Unusual, considering that Jungkook loved to wake up beside them and talk in the morning. Brushing that aside they stood up and padded out of the bedroom and into the kitchen.

Jungkook was seated at the counter, glasses perched on his nose and his laptop in front of him next to a steaming cup of hot water (allegedly, it had health benefits but (Y/N) had never understood it).

“Good morning, baby.” Jungkook had a bright smile, beckoning them to join him at the counter. (Y/N) followed his instructions, hopping onto the stool beside him and leaning on his shoulder in a move they knew he adored.

“I’ve been working hard for you this morning, baby. You know, I want to get this done as soon as possible so we can be together.”

“That’s good.” (Y/N) hummed in reply.

“How do you feel about the moving company getting there at two today? That’ll give us time to have lunch on the way.” Jungkook ran his hand down their arm, soothing them as he noticed how they tensed up.

“What?”

“So you can move in, baby. Of course, you don’t have to bring everything here and I’ll be more than happy to buy anything extra you need-”

“Wait, wait, wait a second.” (Y/N) breathed out slowly. “Moving in?”

“We talked about it last night. You agreed, didn’t you?” (Y/N) scrunched up their nose, trying to recall the conversation but drawing a blank.

“No, I never agreed to that. And I never would. It’d break the terms of our contract.”

Jungkook had such a sincere look of hurt in his eyes that it tugged at (Y/N)’s heartstrings.

“We don’t need that contract, baby. We just need each other. You know I’ll give you anything you want, right?”

“And what I want… no, what I need… is for some space. This is just my part time hustle, I still have college and a life outside of this. I want to keep it to two days a week, otherwise it’ll blur the lines between you as a sugar daddy and you as a boyfriend.” (Y/N) tried not to let their irritation show as they spoke.

“Fuck the lines, (Y/N)! We don’t need any of those labels, I just want you to be mine as much as I am yours!” Their companion’s grip on their arm had grown tighter to the point that his nails started to draw blood. Realising this, (Y/N) pried his hand away and stood up.

“I’m sorry if I’d misled you. But I’m not looking for that kind of relationship with you, I’m just looking for strictly business. If this doesn’t work, maybe we should end this.”

Jungkook stared at them incredulously.

“Well…” He bit his lip, deep in thought. “Fine. Life will go on, I guess. I’ll call up the moving company and cancel it. Let’s not end this beautiful thing we have over a silly argument.”

(Y/N) nodded, although they had a horrible feeling in their stomach that it was not the end of the conversation, and Jungkook would stop at nothing to get his way.

◦◦,`°.✽✦✽.◦.✽✦✽.°`,◦◦

(Y/N) had chosen to make Thursday a ‘me’ day. They cooked themselves breakfast and lunch, did some online shopping and applied a face mask. They had zero intentions of visiting anyone else, when all they wanted to do was de-stress from life.

As they were lighting a candle and listening to some Beethoven, a shrill alarm rang out.

‘Huh. They don’t normally hold the drill today.’ (Y/N) shrugged, waiting for it to cease. However, it didn’t stop.

After a few minutes, (Y/N) grabbed their phone and stepped outside, only to see people hurrying down the stairs.

“Hurry! Fire!” One of her neighbours yelled, jogging past them.

Their eyes widened, but sure enough they could see smoke curling throughout the air and they knew they had no time to lose. Leaving their apartment with only their phone in hand, (Y/N) followed their neighbours down the stairs and out of the building, standing on the pavement as they watched the flames licking at the building and smoke billowing out of the open windows. Soon enough there were fire engines on the scene and ambulances to deal with the people who’d inhaled too much smoke.

(Y/N) found themselves sitting on the pavement, numb with shock. To think everything they owned was going up in the flames was terrifying, even as they saw the firefighters doing everything to minimise the damage.

“(Y/N)! Baby!” Their state of shock was broken by someone yelling their name, and suddenly they were pulled into a tight hug.

“Baby, thank god you’re okay. I don’t know what I would’ve done if something happened to you.”

“Jungkook?” (Y/N) instantly recognised the voice. “What- How-”

“I was in the area when I heard about what happened. I came as quickly as I could.” Jungkook pressed a kiss to (Y/N)’s forehead.

“You need to rest. Come back to my place, okay?”

◦◦,`°.✽✦✽.◦.✽✦✽.°`,◦◦

(Y/N) had ended up staying there far longer than intended. Their apartment had been completely wrecked by the fire, since it had started on their floor. Every possession of theirs, gone so quickly, although of course Jungkook insisted on replacing whatever they wanted.

Jungkook seemed to be very much content with their prolonged stay. In fact, he’d been working from home for the first few days to make sure they were settled in and not feeling too lonely. (Y/N) would sit with him in his home office, since they didn’t really have much else to do, and scroll on their phone until he inevitably called them over to cuddle with him.

The young man had become progressively bolder with his skinship, never holding back from pressing kisses to their neck or holding them a bit too tightly to his crotch. They hadn’t done ‘it’ yet, but with how he was acting it was only a matter of time.

They were just sitting together, (Y/N) scrolling through instagram and Jungkook answering some emails when the desk phone rang. Jungkook reached around them to answer it, holding it to his ear for a few seconds before putting it back down.

“Your nintendo switch has just been delivered. I need to go down to the lobby and sign for it. Are you okay waiting here for a few minutes?” Jungkook pouted, as (Y/N) nodded in reply.

He pressed a kiss to their cheek before standing up.

“Don’t miss me too much, baby.” He smiled before leaving.

(Y/N) let out a breath they didn’t realise they’d been holding in whilst he was there. But now, they were bored as ever.

A chime rang out, and (Y/N) found their attention drawn to Jungkook’s phone, sitting there innocently. They reached over and picked it up, only seeing a text from his mother asking about dinner plans next week. But they noted how he’d changed his lockscreen to a picture of them, from a few nights ago when they’d accompanied him to a formal event and he’d asked one of his colleagues to take a picture of them together.

(Y/N) suddenly had something to do. They set about trying to unlock Jungkook’s phone, first trying their fingerprint and face ID but to no avail. Then, realising that he had a numeral password they tried typing in a few dates - his birthday, his parent’s anniversary. Then, out of sheer boredom and with only one attempt they tried their own birthday only for them to be granted access to his lockscreen.

‘Jeez, he needs to get a life if he’s that whipped for me.’ They sighed, as they scrolled through his phone. Nothing was particularly out of the ordinary, until they checked the photo gallery, to be met with tons of pictures of them. Screenshots from social media, snaps from their ‘dates’, selfies with them fast asleep in his arms. It was enough to make (Y/N) shudder with fright.

Another message popped up.

‘I need the other half of the payment, sir, or I will be contacting the police.’

(Y/N) clicked on it, expecting business talk only to be met with something else entirely. Fear settled in their stomach as they scrolled up through the messages.

‘(Y/N) has been evacuated outside, doesn’t seem to have been hurt.’

‘Someone’s called emergency services, but the fire should spread far enough that (Y/N)’s apartment will be damaged.’

‘I’ve started it, it’s spreading quickly.’

It didn’t take a genius to realise what had happened.

(Y/N) dropped Jungkook’s phone on the floor in shock, standing up immediately. They’d walked right into his arms without hesitation, they’d played into his plan perfectly. Jungkook always got what he wanted, no matter the cost.

‘I have to get out of here.’

(Y/N) started for the door, only stopping to tuck their phone into their pocket. They were just by the entrance to the penthouse when they heard talking outside.

They knew they had to hide, but it was too late.

Jungkook burst through the door, accompanied by a stern faced delivery driver carrying a large box. This was subsequently placed by the door and he made a swift exit, avoiding (Y/N)’s existence the entire time.

“Ah, baby I missed you. Here, come and see what I bought for you.” Jungkook beckoned to them, but one look at their face told him he’d read their mood entirely wrong.

“What’s wrong, baby?” He cooed as he approached them. “Tell me, and I’ll fix it for you.”

“Get the hell away from me.” (Y/N) snapped. Jungkook froze. “I know what you did. What the hell is wrong with you? I could’ve died in that fire?”

His face became stern.

“I would never have allowed that to happen. I just wanted to give you a little push to move in with me, that’s all.”

“You’re insane!”

“And you’re too stubborn to progress our relationship!” Jungkook bit back. “Can’t you see how hard I try to make you happy? Is that not enough for you to love me?”

“I never want to see you again.” (Y/N) huffed, trying to show past him only to be caught in his iron grip.

“You’re not going anywhere.”

(Y/N) struggled, but Jungkook’s determination was stronger than their body weight.

“Maybe I am crazy, baby. And you know what that means?” He leant in close, so (Y/N) could feel the warmth of his breath. “You never know what I’m going to do next. So don’t try me unless you want to get burnt.”

#yandere bts #yandere jungkook #yandere kpop #kpop yandere #bts yandere #yandere jungkook x reader #yandere jeon jeongguk #yandere jeongguk x reader #yandere jeon jungkook x reader #yandere x reader #yandere oneshot

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you-didnt-see-that-cuming · 4 years

Text

All The Things She Said | Hermione Granger x Reader Part One

Summary: Y/N has had a crush on Hermione for as long as she could remember. She often spent class periods thinking about her or sneaking glances in Potions when Snape wasn’t looking, but that all changed in their sixth year when Slughorn became the new Potions professor. And luckily for her, things changed for the better.

Warnings: No warnings yet!

Word Count: 3,096

A/N: I’m on a Harry Potter binge right now so here is some wlw Hermione for y’all, enjoy!

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Being in Slughorn’s potions class held several positives. Firstly, he wasn’t Snape, secondly, each class session was filled with far more interesting potions than they had been in the preceding years, and thirdly, Y/N shared the class with Hermione.

Slytherins and Gryffindors had always shared Potions together, and the two had occasionally been paired together, but now that Potions was no longer a required subject and the class size had diminished significantly, it gave Y/N the opportunity to sneak longer glances at Hermione than she had been able to before.

She couldn’t believe her luck when Slughorn announced that they were to have assigned seats and partners for the remainder of the term and that she had been paired with Hermione in the front of the class.

Hermione hadn’t spoken to her very much during that first class period, which wasn’t wholly unexpected since Y/N was a Slytherin and the rivalry between the two houses was more intense than any other in the school.

Y/N had also managed to get herself invited into the Slugclub, which could sometimes get a little pretentious, but it was bearable enough. She got to see Hermione on those evenings.

Hermione was sitting on the lawn near the banks of the Black Lake under a willow tree when Y/N found her. She was in the middle of a book and was chewing mindlessly on an apple, not even noticing when Y/N approached her. It took clearing her throat to finally get Hermione’s attention.

“Um, hey Hermione,” Y/N said nervously. Her hands were cold and sweaty now.

“Hi Y/N. Uh, is there anything I can help you with?” Hermione looked a little confused but still had a polite smile on her face.

Y/N took a deep breath and shoved her hands into her pockets, scrunching them into fists to keep them from shaking.

“Uh, I was wondering if you could help me with some of the Potions assignments? I’m having trouble understanding the theories and Slughorn said that you had the best marks in the class.” That was a lie, Y/N hadn’t spoken to Slughorn at all. It didn’t take a conversation with a professor to know that Hermione Granger was the smartest witch in their year, if not the entire school.

Hermione blinked at Y/N, her cheeks flushing pink. Y/N was trying to decipher whether it was because of the idea of Slughorn complimenting her or perhaps the idea of tutoring another student.

“Oh! Um, I guess I could help you with some stuff. We’re partners now, aren’t we? She gave a friendly smile. Y/N was surprised by how quickly she agreed.

“Great!” Y/N paused awkwardly. “Do you want to meet tomorrow afternoon in the library? Maybe around 1:00?”

Hermione nodded.

“I’ll see you then, make sure to bring your Potions textbook.”

Y/N gave a stiff bowing nod, an embarrassed smile upon her face.

“Thanks! See you then!” Y/N quickly turned and began marching back up the path to Hogwarts. She finally took a deep breath and the shaking of her hands began to subside. She looked up from the ground and saw Harry and Ron carefully running down the path, trying not to stumble over loose rocks. They acknowledged her by nodding their heads when they passed her and continued down to Hermione who was still sitting underneath the tree reading.

At least now they had something to talk about in Potions. The only problem was that Y/N wasn’t having trouble with Potions theories, in fact, she was doing very well and had received full marks on almost every assignment Slughorn had given them. All she had to do now was find something to pretend to struggle with. Easy enough.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Harry and Ron bustled past Y/N on the path leading from Hogwarts and stopped at the foot of the willow tree, panting lightly and looking slightly disheveled. Hermione looked up at them, an eyebrow raised, and a confused smile on her face.

“What’s the rush with you two?” she asked, placing a bookmark in between the pages of her book and closing it.

“What were you talking to Y/N for?” Harry asked, loosening his tie as he moved to sit down next to Hermione.

“She was asking for some help with Potions, I’m going to start tutoring her tomorrow.”

Ron balked at Hermione’s answer.

“Are you mad?! She’s a Slytherin who’s probably all buddy-buddy with Draco! How do you know she isn’t just trying to get you alone to hex you?”

Hermione sighed and rolled her eyes.

“Oh please, I’ll be fine. If you’re really that worried, you can come to the library at 1:00. You can hide behind the bookshelves looking out for hexes or whatever else it is that you’re worried about.”

Ron grunted. He didn’t seem very happy. Harry looked slightly less disgruntled but still had a slight concerned expression on his face.

“Well alright then, but I still don’t trust her.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Y/N woke up the next morning slightly disoriented after the dream she had just had. She had been awakened by the banging of the dormitory door as Pansy Parkinson rushed in. Y/N squeezed her eyes shut and tried to burn the dream into her mind before she forgot. But all she could remember from the dream was the warm, smiling face of Hermione.

“I cannot believe Draco!” Pansy shouted as she stormed around the dormitory. She had a toothbrush in hand and some foaming toothpaste at the corner of her mouth. She was dressed in some silver silk pajamas and her short hair was pulled into small pigtails.

Y/N sighed, accepting the fact that her dream would not come back to her. She pushed herself up onto her elbows and pushed her hair out of her face, squinting in exhaustion.

“What has he done now?” She asked, her eyes following Pansy as she bustled around the room.

“He threw all of my clothing down the laundry chute and I had to go to breakfast in my pajamas, I looked ridiculous.” Pansy huffed. She paused for a moment, looking at Y/N.

“You should probably hurry and get ready, didn’t you say that you were meeting up with someone at 1:00?”

Y/N rubber her eyes and pushed herself up into a proper sitting position.

“Yeah, why?”

“Well, it’s almost 12:45.”

Y/N suddenly felt very awake. She ripped the covers off her bed and darted to her trunk.

“Oh my god, I’m not going to have time to eat! What do I wear?!” She started rifling through her trunk, trying to find something that would be suitable.

“Don’t worry about the food, I brought you a cranberry muffin from the Great Hall. Who are you meeting with anyway?” Pansy said casually, throwing herself onto her bed.

“It doesn’t matter! But I really like this person so I want to impress them but I don’t want to look overdressed.”

Pansy raised an eyebrow. She was quiet for a moment before she pushed herself off her bed and pushed Y/N away from her trunk. She started digging until she pulled out an emerald green sweater and a pair of light wash jeans.

“Here, wear this. The green brings out your eyes. You should also wear that headband you got in Hogsmead.”

Y/N gave Pansy a look of stressed gratitude and hurried to get dressed, almost tripping over her own feet as she pulled the jeans on. If there was one thing Pansy was especially good at, it was keeping herself calm and collected in moments of panic. This was most definitely a moment of panic.

Just before Y/N pulled the sweater over her head, Pansy shoved half of the muffin into her mouth. She chewed as fast as she could, grabbing a random pair of rolled socks from her trunk and pulling them on.

Once Y/N had started pulling on a pair of heavy black boots, Pansy shoved the remaining half into Y/N’s awaiting open mouth and grabbed a hairbrush from their shared vanity while Y/N finished chewing. The moment she began brushing her teeth, Pansy started brushing her hair and pulling it back into a headband. Pansy’s hands worked quickly and efficiently, ensuring that Y/N’s hair looked glossy and full of volume. The two worked together like a well-oiled machine, forging their way through the chaos that had become their dormitory.

“Okay, I say only use a little bit of mascara and some lipgloss, you don’t want to look too done up.” Pansy shoved a tube of lipgloss into Y/N’s back pocket after she had rinsed her mouth and handed her leather satchel to her as Y/N quickly swiped the mascara onto her eyelashes.

“Go, you have 5 minutes! Good luck!” Pansy shouted, pushing Y/N out of the door, running after her down the staircase into the Slytherin common room.

“Coming through!” Pansy roared as they barreled through the common room, “She’s late for a date!”

Y/N didn’t have time to scold Pansy as some first years scattered out of the way. She burst through the entrance to the common room and sprinted up the staircases to the library.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Once she had reached the entrance to the library, she was panting loudly and sweating a little. The clock over the archway signaled that she had just about a minute to spare. Taking deep breaths to regulate her breathing and try to cool herself down, she began to fix her hair and quickly applied to lipgloss to the center of her lips. She turned to the portraits on the wall and stretched her arms out.

“Well? How do I look?”

Some of the portraits shouted their comments at her.

“Where are your robes, girl? You look ridiculous!”

“You look wonderful!”

“Straighten up! You’re slouching like a troll!”

She took one final deep breath and entered the library. She spotted Hermione setting her things down at a table in the center of the room and her heart started pounding. With every step Y/N took towards the table, the pounding of her heartbeat in her ears intensified until it had swelled to a loud roaring. As she approached the table, Hermione looked up from the books she had been taking out of her bag and smiled.

“Hey! You ready to get started? I thought we might begin with Potions theories.”

Y/N swallowed and put a smile on her face.

“Yeah, that sounds good!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ron and Harry were both hiding behind a bookshelf within earshot of the table where Hermione and Y/N were sitting, looking through the gaps between books to keep an eye on them. Ron had taken Hermione’s offer very seriously, he didn’t trust anyone who was a Slytherin.

“Ow! Stop shoving your elbow into me, I can’t see if you’re pushing me,” Harry complained, rubbing his side where Ron’s sharp elbow had found its mark.

“Oops, sorry,” Ron muttered, distracted.

“What are we doing here? I’m sure it will be fine, Hermione can take care of herself. Besides, we could be in Hogsmeade by now.” Harry complained.

“Give it a few minutes, will you?” Ron hissed.

“Oh please, it’s not like she’s going to hex Hermione in the middle of the library.”

“Who is going to hex Hermione?” A voice said from behind them. The voice belonged to Ginny Weasley, who was holding a stack of books at the other end of the bookshelf.

“Blimey Ginny! Don’t you ever make noise when you move?” Ron said, clutching his chest in surprise. Ginny rolled her eyes.

“Like I said, who is hexing Hermione?”

“Um, no one is hexing Hermione. He thinks Y/N is up to something though.” Harry responded.

“Y/N, the girl from Slytherin? But she’s so nice!” Ginny had a surprised look on her face.

Ron rolled his eyes at Ginny’s comment.

“That’s exactly what she wants everyone to think!”

“Oh Ron, now you’re being ridiculous! Leave the poor girl alone, it’s not fair of you to target her just because she’s a Slytherin.” Ginny huffed. She now seemed frustrated with Ron. Harry silently agreed with Ginny, Ron was being a bit ridiculous.

Ron groaned, seeming equally as frustrated as Ginny.

“Fine, we’ll leave it alone for now.” He grumbled, turning away and starting to walk towards the exit of the library.

“Wait does that mean that we can go down to Hogsmeade now?” Harry called after him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“So you can use a bezoar as an antidote to poisons?” Y/N questioned. She already knew the answer, but she just wanted to hear Hermione’s voice again.

“Well, it works for most poisons, one that it doesn’t help with is basilisk venom, only phoenix tears will heal that.”

Hermione looked up from the table and to the clock that was hanging towards the front of the library. The sky had turned a dark blue since they had first started reviewing together and it was almost time for dinner in the Great Hall.

“Blimey! Is that the time? We better head down to the Great Hall now if we want to make dinner.” Hermione began packing her books into her bag and Y/N did the same.

“Thank you, by the way, for helping me with all of this. Hopefully I can keep up with you now!” Y/N joked as she placed her last notebook into her bag.

Now it was Hermione who gave a shy and nervous smile. A blush had formed across her cheeks.

“Um, y-yeah! Of course, no worries.” She paused for a moment, like she was debating on whether or not she should say something else. She cleared her throat before continuing. “Um, would you like to do this again sometime? Studying, I mean.”

Y/N had to force herself not to smile as much as she wanted.

“I would love to, do you want to meet up on Wednesday? We can study in the courtyard after lunch, if that’s alright?”

“Sounds good! Do you, uh, want to walk down to the Great Hall together then?

Y/N smiled and nodded in response and the two set off for dinner. They had been up in the library for so long that even the librarian, Madam Pince, had fallen asleep waiting for them to leave. It was nearing 6:00 and as they descended the staircases, the smell of food grew more distinct and the hum of voices grew louder.

Once they had reached the entrance to the Great Hall, the two girls turned to face each other.

“Well, I guess this is where we leave each other,” Hermione said, rocking on the balls of her feet.

“I suppose so.”

There was an awkward silence for a few moments before Hermione broke the tension.

“Well! I’ll see you on Wednesday then!” She said in an overly-enthusiastic tone.

“Yup! See you then!”

The two girls parted ways and headed towards their respective tables. As Y/N began sitting down, Pansy grabbed her by the arm and pulled her down quickly.

“The person you were meeting was Hermione Granger?!” Pansy hissed quietly so that Draco or his friends wouldn’t hear.

Y/N blushed furiously and glanced at Hermione who was currently in the middle of a conversation with Ginny Weasley.

“We were having a study session together, we’re partners in Potions you know.”

“But you said-!” Pansy had started raising her voice before she caught herself, lowering her voice to a harsh whisper. “You said that you were meeting up with someone who you really liked and wanted to impress!”

“Well, I do like her, and I did want to impress her.” Maybe if she pretended that there was nothing wrong with what she just said, everything would return back to normal. She began loading her plate with some of the roast duck that had appeared on the platter in front of her. However, this did nothing of the sort. In fact, it only succeeded in making Pansy look like she was having a heart attack. She looked scandalized, her mouth hanging open in disbelief.

“Are you serious? Of all the people you could have chosen to fancy, you chose Granger?!”

Draco was looking curiously at the two girls now. Apparently, Pansy’s reaction had gotten his attention.

“You alright Pansy? You look like you’ve seen a ghost or something.” He said, leaning forward to talk to her.

She shook her head and turned to respond to Draco.

“I’m fine, no worries here!” She gave a forced laugh before she turned back to Y/N.

“Fine, I can get over you liking Granger, but you can’t tell Draco about this, he would never let you live it down.”

“Trust me, I know. I’m not exactly keen on him finding out either.”

The two girls ate their dinner, distracting themselves by talking about their next trip to Hogsmeade and the upcoming Winter recess. Pansy and her family were going to go on holiday to France to visit some family. Y/N hadn’t decided yet if she was going to go home or stay at Hogwarts for the holidays. They continued talking until the plates had been cleared and Dumbledore stood to give a few, final words before dismissing everyone back to their respective dormitories.

As everyone began filing out of the Great Hall, Y/N passed by Hermione and the two girls made eye contact. They smiled subtly at one another before parting ways, Hermione going back up to Gryffindor Tower with Ron and Harry, and Y/N descending down to the dungeons to the Slytherin common room with Pansy, who had looped her arm around Y/N’s.

All in all, it had been a good day. She hadn’t really learned anything new today, but she had gotten to spend some more time talking to Hermione, which was something that they didn’t often do in Potions.

When Y/N and Pansy had finally reached their dormitories, Y/N was smiling. She and Pansy began getting ready for bed, changing into comfortable pajamas, Y/N opting to use a silk green set that she had been gifted from Pansy’s family the Christmas before. Once the girls had settled into their beds under the comfortable sheets and covers and silence fell over the room, Y/N closed her eyes. And as she began drifting off, she fell asleep thinking about Hermione’s smile and just how wonderful it was.

#Harry Potter #Hermione Granger #hermione granger x reader #hermione granger smut #hermione granger fluff #hermione granger imagine #pansy parkinson x reader #pansy parkinson x friend!reader #harry potter x reader #ron weasley x reader #ginny weasley x friend!reader #luna lovegood x friend!reader #fred weasley x friend!reader #george weasley x friend!reader #draco malfoy x reader #fred weasley x reader #george weasley x reader

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thewritingstar · 3 years

Text

Ignite

SoMa Week 2021 Day One: Burn

Pairing: SoMa (Soul x Maka)

Fandom: Soul Eater

Note: This is my first time participating in SoXa week! Also its my finals week so im stressed about tests and my second vaccine dose is kicking my butt but I thought instead of studying, lets write a fic. I’ve been really into soul eater recently and started the manga, so you’ll see some new fics for it here and there. Anyways, enjoy!

@soulxmakaweek

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Her view of love had burnt out a long time ago. She was hopeful at times to think someone could be loyal and love her for eternity but that fear of being left behind and abandoned again would destroy any hope of that.

She had thought it was written in stone. From a young age she didn’t think about marriage, didn’t care about relationships because she wasn’t willing to risk the burn marks on her heart for just a sliver of satisfaction. There was nothing anyone could say to her to change her mind, she knew that, more importantly, he knew that.

But slowly that mindset started to challenge her heart. The moment she asked Soul to be her partner when they were teenagers, she felt a spark. It was small and only lasted a fraction of a second when he said yes and gave her a smirk she dared not say she liked. For a moment she had forgotten about her pact, never fall in love, but it came back quickly as it left.

She repeated those words more frequently than not. The mirror had begun to memorize the movement of her lips as she looked at herself and scolded anything that remotely resembled a romantic interest.

Every so often a brave boy would come up to her with a card and some flowers and try his hand at Maka’s heart. She would be as kind as possible to turn them down but she never missed the way Soul’s lips turned up into a smirk. Soon she was seen as untouchable, no one could woo her or they would be too threatened by Soul to even try.

It was a relief to Soul to see boys not trying to win over Maka but a part of him wondered if she would ever let herself fall for anyone.

“Do we really have to go to this dance?” Soul grumbled as he fixed his tie for the tenth time.

Maka sighed from the bathroom. “Yes Soul. Its our duty as successful students to make an appearance. Plus I heard that there is going to be good food.”

Soul rolled his eyes as he plopped onto the couch. “Its been five years since we graduated, do people even care about us?” He smirked as he heard her scoff from the hallway.

“No, Im sure no one cares about the current death weapon or the amazing person who not only made said weapon but is also one of the best teachers at the academy.”

“Relax Maka, I’m just teasing. Now hurry up or we are gonna be late and I am not about to be scolded by Kid for that.”

“Alright.” She huffed and finished her makeup with a swipe of lip gloss. “I’m coming. How do I look?” She asked.

It was a simple question, one he was used to answering often with a “fine. good. who cares, lets go.” But lately he's been trying to hold in his actual thoughts.

Maka stared at him, those olive green eyes that he became more attracted to lately. There was an untacked about chemistry that had been hovering around them for the past few years and slowly, he was loosing the battle on keeping it in place.

Her dress was black with off the shoulder sleeves and cut off mid-thigh. Something classy and elegant but still fun to twirl in. Her heels boosted her to his eye level and her hair was up in an updo with some blonde framing her face.

“Soul?” She asked him and he cleared his throat before grabbing his keys.

“Uh, you look perfect. We should really be going.” Way to be cool about it, he scolded himself.

Maka grabbed her purse and followed him out the door. Deep down she could feel a small spark of desire flare but quickly, she pushed it down and got into the car.

The dance was nothing less than perfection. Every dish, napkin, balloon and streamer was in a proper place with symmetry as its main function. Kid apparently had spent a week decorating the place himself just to insure that it was nothing less than his standards.

“He really out did himself, huh?” Soul commented as he looked around the room.

“He sure did.” Maka said.

There were a mix of students and faculty on the dance floor already. Kid was standing towards the back with Black Star while Tsubaki, Patty and Liz were chatting near them.

“It brings me back to when you forced me to these thing when we were kids.” Soul said as they made their way across the room.

Maka laughed. “Guess things haven’t changed much.”

They parted ways, Soul going towards the guys and Maka joining the girls.

“Oh Maka you look so cute!” Patty complimented her.

Maka smiled. “You all look so good too.”

Liz finished her drink before looking towards the boys. “I bet Soul likes this number on you.” She winked and Maka took a glass on a near by tray and gulped it down.

“Aww don’t tease the clueless love birds.” Tsubaki giggled.

“There nothing to tell.” Maka tried to reason but none of the girls believed her for a moment. “I’m not even his type.” She rushed out and Liz almost started to choke on her drink.

“Are you kidding? The smartest girl in the school, no the city and she's dumb as a rock when it comes to the love sick scythe.”

Maka swatted Liz’s arm and rolled her eyes. Behind her she heard someone clear their throat.

“Maka?”

She turned to see Peter, a fellow teacher who specialized in weapon training of the lower grade levels.

“Oh hi Peter, how are you?” Maka greeted and the rest of the girls waved politely.

“Good. I was wondering if you wanted to dance maybe?” He asked.

She expected to hear the girls snickering and giggling but instead she was met with silence and a smug cough from Liz.

“Oh, uh.” She started.

“Come on, it will be fun.” He said and took her hand, pulling her to the dance floor without giving her a chance.

A small squeak escaped her lips as she almost crashed into his chest. His hands found their way to her hips as he swayed to the music. Although she had always found their conversations nice and refreshing, he wasn’t the type of man that was, well, her type.

“You know Maka, I’ve always admired you.” He said.

She looked up at him and offered a polite smile. “Oh really?”

“So brave and smart, makes sense that the top teacher was also the top student.”

She laughed slightly. “Well I couldn’t have done it without my partner.”

Peter quickly caught his frown. “Yeah, Soul. Nice dude.”

“He likes to consider himself a ride or die.” She smiled to herself.

Peter grunted something she couldn’t make out and spun her around. She saw Soul walking towards the balcony doors just as she came back to Peter’s front.

“Anyways, I was wondering if you wanted to have dinner with me, you know, like a date?”

Maka stopped in her tracks. Date. No. She didn’t want that. She gave up on that a long time ago.

“Look Peter, you’re a nice guy and I have a great time working with you, but I’m just not looking for anything.”

“Oh. I just thought you and I we're getting to be good friends.”

“Well I like chatting with you and grading stuff but I really am not into dating right now. Sorry.”

“I get it, Soul would be jealous.” He scoffed and stepped back. “ I should have listened.”

“Listened to what?” She demanded.

He had the audacity to smile at her. “Oh please. Ever since school, everyone knew that it was you and Soul. I just thought that since nothing has happened yet, you would be on the market.”

That rubbed her the wrong way and her face turned sour.

“Well sorry to disappoint you, but I’m not some slab of meat. See you on Monday.” She scoffed and walked away from him. Instead of going back to her friends, she stormed towards the balcony and greeted the cool air to help calm her down.

“That was quick.” Soul teased and he held out his hand to help her up, making sure her dress didn’t get caught.

“Quick enough for a dance just to ask me out and get mad when I said no.”

Soul turned towards her. “Oh? Another ego bruised?”

“He said he had been waiting for me to be on the market.” She spat. “Disgusting behavior.”

Soul let out a laugh and threw his arm over her shoulder. “Men are stupid, you’re smart to not go near them.”

“You’re not stupid, most of the time.” She mumbled.

“The difference between me and those guys is I’ve had my ass handed to me by you. I know not to mess with the bull. Plus, I actually have respect for you and women, like a cool person should.”

“Yeah. He then said that you would be jealous.”

They watched the sun begin to set slowly. Sometimes Maka wondered what it would feel like to be the sun. Eternal warmth. Being a constant in peoples lives. She looked to Soul who seemed a little lost in thought. That spark coming to the surface and she wondered why she didn’t allow herself to what she wanted.

For years she had made sure that their partnership never faltered from that. She couldn’t risk anything happening to them because she wasn’t sure if she would be able to trust another weapon the way she did with him. She also didn’t want to partner with anyone else.

She enjoyed his company. Enjoyed the way that he could make her smile and feel comfortable. Most importantly, he stuck to his word. She never once felt like he would leave and when he said he was going to be there, she believed him.

Sometimes she wished she could just scream at him and tell him that she had been in love with him for years. That her talks about marriage and love never once applied to him and if he asked, she would be his forever.

“I think he's right.” Soul started. “Its always been you and me. I probably wouldn’t like the attention taken. Stupid, I know.”

“Its not, because I think I know why no one else sparks my interest.” She took a breath and stared at him. Those crimson eyes that held a sense of comfort and form of love that was now crystal clear. “I don’t think anyone else comes close to how I see you. The stolen glances and walking on the eggshells of feelings I pushed down long ago. I get it now Soul. You never asked because you waited for me.”

He let out a laugh from his chest and jumped down before offering his hand. “The moment I met you Maka? I knew we were end game, I was just hoping you saw it too.”

When she looked at Soul, she could sense the last little flames igniting. She could have crushed them, put them out with the bottom of her shoe and never let them rise again. She could of finally removed all the pain her parents marriage caused her and not let anything happen to her heart.

And when she thought that her idea of love was burnt to a crisp, she didn’t realize that those tiny embers had slowly grown into a burning fire. Only one person fanned the flames of her heart and she wonders why she couldn’t see it all those years ago.

But instead she looked into his eyes and saw nothing but trust. His smile was genuine and there was a faint blush on his cheeks as he waited for her answer. Deep down the embers sparked as she took his hand and she felt the fire take over.

She took his hand and he gently pulled her close until their noses touch and he placed a kiss on her knuckles. She could barely hear the music playing inside but it felt like a symphony was surrounding them. He began to hum a tune and stepped to lead her in their dance.

She giggled as he twirled her. It felt freeing, it felt right, it was perfect. He brought her back to his chest and with a big smile, he looked down at her.

“Maka?”

“Hmm?”

“Can I kiss you?”

“Yes.”

He pulled her close, taking her lips and kissing her just like he wanted to for as long as he could remember. Her lips were soft and he could feel the curl of her lips as she smiled against him.

The fire within her erupted brighter than before. The sense of longing for another began to be fulfilled and any doubts she had began to shrink. Any doubts she had with Soul had been long gone. He was her constant, the person who was always there no matter what. She never had to ask or even say a word for him to be by her side.

Her idea of love had been crushed when she had been a girl. She had thought that no one could change that. Perhaps she would spend her life not knowing what life could have been with a full heart.

But as she held Soul close to her, it became clear that he was the one to hold the match to those embers. He was a reminder that love could exist and be devoted to another.

He was the fire that burned in her heart and she gladly excepted the warmth.

“Hey Soul?” She whispered against his lips.

“Yeah?”

“I love you.”

She didn’t think his smile could get any bigger as he told her the same and kissed her again.

----

I hope you enjoyed :)

#SoMaWeek2021 #SoulxMakaWeek #soulxmaka #soma #soma fic #thewritingstar #souleater #soul eater #Soul eater fanfiction #Soul x Maka

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gunpowdville · 3 years

Text

The Great Flesh-Eating Cake Incident of Year [REDACTED], Chapter 2

chapter: 2/2

relationships: Drumbot Brian-Raphaella la Cognizi (queerplatonic), Gunpowder Tim/Lyfrassir Edda/Marius Von Raum, Nastya Rasputina/the Aurora

Other things: genderfluid Tim, she/her Tim, he/fae Marius, temporary character death, possession, canon-typical violence. but mostly literally just silly self-indulgent fluff.

chapter 1

ao3

Read here below the cut >:}

The Rec Room: Tim, Lyf, Marius. All 10 still alive. (a few minutes before It is released)

Lazy days on Aurora are hard to come by, and when they do happen, they are spent most often by complaining about how boring lazy days are. Some, however, can find content in the slower days spent in relative peace and quiet. Case in point: the three currently buried in a pillow nest in the middle of the rec room floor.

The situation is this: the pillows and cushions from the furniture all stripped away and stolen to build a comfortable arrangement on the floor. Gunpowder Tim, in simply a loose blouse and leggings, hair braided elegantly over one shoulder. Lyfrassir Edda, in what is undeniably one of Tim’s waistcoats, perched in between the gunner’s legs, having their hair braided by her deft hands. Marius von Raum, sprawled across Lyf’s lap, waving his hands about animatedly as he talks.

“You left out the best part,” Tim says as Marius finishes relaying the story of how fae and Raph had joined the crew. “You forgot to mention the bit where Bri gave the two of you an actual job interview. And how, upon being asked your greatest strengths, you said, and I quote, ‘I’m hot.’”

“You did not,” Lyf looks utterly scandalized. “At a job interview?”

“You forget, love, that the job fae was applying for was being a Mechanism,” Tim points out, running her fingers through the former inspector’s hair. “The criteria is pretty much being able to play an instrument and willing to do crime.”

“Speaking of,” Marius says, batting aimlessly at Tim’s face where it peeks at him over Lyf’s shoulder. “It’s a shame that we only really have two or so songs together, Tim. We should get to sing together more.”

Tim nods in agreement. “We’re simply too powerful together.”

“I’ve been thinking of trying to get Jonny to let the three of us sing Blood & Whiskey,” Marius admits, then frowns. “Oh, wait, sorry Lyffers, I forgot you sound like a drowning cat when you sing.”

“I do not!” Lyf flushes scarlet, turning their face away from Tim’s raised eyebrow.

“You’re right, sorry, it’s more like a drowning cat playing a kazoo.”

Lyf makes an attempt to hit Marius lightly, but the violinist just catches their hand and kisses the back of it, grinning wickedly.

“Y’know, I don’t think I’ve ever actually heard you sing,” Tim says slyly, tying off the braid and leaning forward so she can rest her chin on Lyf’s shoulder. “Would you sing for me?”

“Do you enjoy the sound of a drowning cat playing a kazoo?” Lyf asks her.

“Well, not exactly…”

“Then according to Mare, you do not want to hear me sing.”

Tim pouts, showing off her mastery of sad puppy dog eyes. The overhead lights glinting off the metal make them sparkle, creating a masterfully alluring wide gaze. “Please? Just a bit? For me?”

It is next to impossible to argue with those eyes, especially once you’ve already fallen hard for the person making them at you. With a sigh, Lyf squeezes their eyes tight shut and awkwardly sings a few lines of Blood & Whiskey. It sounds, as promised, like a drowning cat playing a kazoo.

Tim manages to hold a straight face for roughly three seconds before guffawing with laughter, burying her face in the spot between Lyf’s shoulder and neck to smother her cackles.

Lyf breaks off, turning their head slightly with a gently irritated eyebrow raised at their partner. “Are you finished?”

“Sorry,” Tim gasps between giggles, nuzzling further into their neck, failing miserably at trying to stifle her mirth. “I- I just- I didn’t expect it to actually sound- like that- I’m- I’m sorry-”

“I told you,” Marius crows, grinning up at Lyf and Tim with triumphant teasing fire in faer eyes. “Wasn’t I right?”

“You two are very rude to me,” Lyf huffs, sticking their nose in the air haughtily. Tim lifts her face from their shoulder and noses their jaw, murmuring something about drowning cats and how they have never sounded more attractive. Lyf pointedly ignores her.

“Aw, hey, don’t be like that, fairytale,” Marius heaves himself into a sitting position and catches the former inspector’s face in his hands. “Y’know we’re just teasing you ‘cuz we love you, yeah?”

“Yeah, yeah, I love you too,”Lyf sighs, giving in and letting faer kiss them.

“Sappy,” Tim comments, earning a petulant finger from Marius. “Also, fairytale?”

“They’re my fairytale,” Marius declares proudly, and Tim pouts. “What am I, then?”

“You,” Lyf contemplates, turning their head to meet Tim’s metallic gaze with their own iridescent one. “You’re my battle cry. You’re the song I sing for strength when I can’t find it. You’re my declaration to the world that I will not stand still and break. You’re the inspiration that keeps me fighting. My battle cry.”

“Well,” Tim blinks, making a valiant attempt to keep her voice steady. “Hey now. You didn’t have to go and do that to me.”

Lyf’s brow furrows, concern instantly evident in their features. “Did I say something wrong?”

“No, goddamnit, you said everything right, you- fuck.” without another word, Tim fists a hand in the front of their shirt and pulls them into a kiss. “I fucking love you.”

Lyf’s (no doubt sappy as all hell) response is cut off by Marius, who groans and rolls out of their lap with a huff. “If you two are going to be like that, I’m leaving.”

“You started it,” Tim points out, “but whatever, more Lyf time for me.”

Marius sticks faer tongue out at her as fae leaves. “Go see if Bri’s made me any munchies!” Tim calls after him, before turning back to her partner with a decidedly malicious smirk. “Now, where were we?”

They are interrupted not long after by Brian, who comes barging into the room without preamble, zeroes distractedly in on the pair of them, says “Oh. Hello, dears. Have either of you seen an unidentifiable mass of sentient ooze? Slightly larger than an octokitten? It ate Marius,” and then hurries out the opposite door.

Tim and Lyf glance at each other, attempting to register his words. “Wha- Brian, what?”

But the Drumbot has already disappeared down the corridor, leaving the two of them to scramble to their feet and race after him, their questions landing on ignorant ears.

Nastya, the corridors: 9 left alive, 1 eaten.

Nastya spends her lazy days with her girlfriend, most of the time. She enjoys the quieter hours when she can work on repairs, listening to Aurora tell her stories or complain about whatever is on her mind. This particular lazy day, the engineer is sitting cross-legged on the floor of one of the corridors, right outside Jonny’s room, her hands deftly working at the wires beneath one of the wall panels. Aurora is telling her about a new program she and Ivy are working on, a sort of virtual reality experience for the shooting range that will ‘revitalize the excitement of warfare’, in her words. Nastya listens intently, interjecting with questions when she has them and praise when it is deserved.

As she finishes up, carefully replacing the wall panel and smiling softly at Aurora’s petulant complaints, something drops from the air vent above her. She takes a smooth step back as the thing falls to the floor with a wet thwack. At first glance it resembles an octokitten, but as it unfurls it reveals itself as more of a dark glistening lump, tendrils of gooey flesh extending across the floor toward Nastya.

“Well, hello,” The engineer says, tilting her head to study it. “What are you?”

That is the cake our Drumbot and his science officer made, Aurora answers for her. Don’t touch it.

“This is a cake?”

I believe it was supposed to be.

“And what is it now?”

Decidedly not a cake.

It’s at that moment that Ivy comes racing into the corridor, breathless and looking faintly annoyed. “Ah. Nastya. Good. Have you seen-” her eyes drift to the thing at Nastya’s feet. “That.”

“I am certainly looking at it right now,” Nastya says in response, nudging a toe forward to poke at it. Ivy throws out an arm to stop her. “Do not. Unless you want to get eaten.”

Nastya raises an eyebrow and quickly steps back, just as an octokitten meanders into the area, approaching the blob with a curious ‘mrrp’. Ivy dives for it, but the creature is much faster, latching onto the octokitten in a second. But instead of eating it, the thing seems to melt into it, turning it a darker color.

“Hm,” Ivy hums curiously. “That’s new.”

The possessed octokitten zeroes in on Ivy and Nastya, yawning wide to show a lot more teeth than should be able to fit in its mouth.

“Run?” Nastya suggests, watching the kitten start forward on uneasy tentacles.

“Run,” Ivy agrees.

Jonny & Ashes, the shooting range: 9 left alive, 1 eaten.

The shooting range is one of the few rooms on Aurora that isn’t quiet on lazy days. This day is no different from any other in that regard, with the sounds of gunfire and cackling echoing from behind the wide open door. The quartermaster and the first mate are both in there, trapped in a pointless competition to outshoot each other. They have done this many times before, and who wins changes nearly every time. But it’s an excellent way to distract and relieve stress, and Jonny had noticed Ashes appearing down earlier, so he had suggested a shooting competition. He never said that he was doing it to cheer them up, but he’s pretty sure they’ve caught on to his intentions.

“I kicked your ass harder than Brian got his ass kicked in that sun,” Ashes remarks, standing over Jonny, who lies prone on the floor. Jonny groans and sits up, shoving his singed hair off of his forehead. “You cheated.”

“Says what rules?” Ashes snorts, reaching down to help him up.

“It was a shooting match, O’Reilly, not a goddamn grenade match.”

“Your screaming was hilarious, though.”

Jonny scowls and flips them off. Ashes laughs and slips another grenade into their pocket, a little something to save for later.

The trapdoor in the ceiling of the shooting range drops open, and Raphaella tumbles through, falling head over heels and landing neatly on her feet with a dancer’s grace. “We have something of a problem.”

“Yeah, Ashes just fucking blew me up,” Jonny complains, and Ashes rolls their eyes. “You’re fine.”

“You’re fine,” Raphaella says at exactly the same time, and Ashes shoots a grin at her. “Anyway, Bri and I may have done… something.”

“You may have done something,” Brian argues, breezing into the room with Tim and Lyf close on his heels. “I take no responsibility.”

“Can we please go back to the part where it ate my boyfriend?” Lyf demands, causing Jonny’s eyebrows to shoot up practically to his hairline. “Someone’s eating boyfriends?”

“The octokittens are possessed,” this is Nastya, squeezing past Brian through the door, tailed by Ivy.

“Possessed?”

“Possessed,” Ivy confirms, to Brian’s incredulous outburst.

“D’you mean those octokittens?” Jonny asks, pointing to the door. Sure enough, a gaggle of octokittens meanders through, moving a bit unsteadily, oily dark colors writhing beneath their skin.

“That looks like- that’s-” Lyf’s eyes go wide as they stare at the kittens. “What the fuck is that?”

“It was supposed to be a cake,” Brian says mournfully.

“It ate Marius!”

“It’s technically your child, Lyf,” Raphaella pipes up. “The compound I used to make it is based on your blood samples.”

Lyf just stares at her.

“It doesn’t look that bad,” Ashes remarks. They crouch down and flip open their lighter, holding it in front of one of the kittens’ face. It flinches, then snarls and shoots toward them, latching onto their foot, its jaws opening far wider than they should be able to. They try to kick it off, but its tentacles appear to have melted onto their skin and are slowly eating through. With a squelch, the odd entity detaches fully from its octokitten host, who blinks and scuttles into the corner.

With a pained grunt, Ashes drops their lighter onto the thing on their foot, successfully setting the thing alight. It recoils and retreats to the center of the floor, squelching in a frantic circle. It leaves behind nothing left of the quartermaster’s foot, and Ashes stumbles and is caught by Jonny, who steadies them and shoots a murderous look at the flaming blob.

“Fuck fuck fuck,” Ashes hisses through their teeth, pain evident on their features. “Goddamn. What the fuck, you two.”

“Again, I take no responsibility,” Brian insists. Raphaella sticks her tongue out at him. “You are a bastard and a traitor and I never loved you anyway.”

Brian blows her a kiss and a wink.

“Interesting,” Ivy interrupts, pulling out a notepad and writing something down. “It appears fire is ineffective.”

This gets everyone’s attention directed back to the creature, which is indeed decidedly not dead or incapacitated in any way. It isn’t even on fire anymore. And it looks angry.

“You’re kidding me,” Ashes growls, staring at the thing with disgusted fury.

“Run,” Tim suggests, pushing Lyf gently out of the way as the thing focuses on them and begins to move forward. “Split up and run. It can’t get all of us at once.”

Jonny nods and dutifully starts off out of the room, taking Ashes with him, holding them up as they limp and curse. Ivy and Nastya shoot off in another direction, Nastya scooping up the disgruntled left-behind octokitten as she goes. Raphaella grabs Lyf’s wrist and pulls them up through the ceiling trapdoor, ignoring their startled protests. That leaves Tim with Brian. She turns to him, poised to ask what the plan is, but hesitates when she sees Brian standing there, head cocked to one side, staring blankly at the empty floor. The bifrost cake-creature is nowhere to be seen.

“Brian?” Tim steps forward, reaching out and resting a concerned hand on his shoulder. “Bri? You good?”

Brian’s head lifts, slowly, in an uncharacteristically stilted motion. His eyes are… wrong. Something is moving in them, and if Tim looks closely she can see it oozing from the corners. Oh. Oh no.

“Fuck,” she breathes, stumbling backward and reaching for a pistol. “Not Brian not Brian not Brian.”

The thing in Brian’s body smiles, forcing the expression onto the Drumbot’s face. It takes a step forward. Of course, it’s at that moment that the Toy Soldier decides to make its first appearance.

“Sorry I’m late!” It announces as it steps into the shooting range. “I was in the middle of a delightful painting using the blood from that corpse Jonny dragged onto the ship the other day! I didn’t want to leave it for too long in case it was ruined! Anyway, I heard there was a crew meeting?”

“Oh, I’d love to see that painting,” Tim says, momentarily distracted. The Toy Soldier claps its hands together excitedly. “Of course! I’ll set up a viewing!”

Tim grins. “Lovely. Now, what do you know of possession?”

“Well, it depends on what kind!”

“Um,” Tim glances back at Brian and whatever is piloting him, who has stopped in its tracks and is watching the exchange curiously. “Well. Would you.. Happen to know anything about possession by.. Cake?”

In the brief pause that follows, the thing inside Brian appears to give up on its curiosity and steps forward, opening his mouth. Tim frowns at it for a moment, confused, and then she sees the soft glow building in the back of the Drumbot’s throat. “Oh shit.”

Tim & The Toy Soldier, just outside the shooting range, 9 left alive, 1 footless, 1 eaten

Tim grabs the Toy Soldier and pulls it with her as she bolts to the door, just as a jet of flame shoots out of Brian’s mouth.

“Since when can he do that?” she yelps, flattening herself against a wall to avoid being scorched.

“Oh, that is interesting!” TS declares, peeking around the doorframe. Tim nods. “So. To catch you up. There’s some sort of Bifrost related demon-creature loose on the ship, it is currently inside Brian’s body and appears to be controlling him. Fire can’t kill it. Oh, and it ate Mare.”

The Toy Soldier nods, bouncing on the balls of its feet. “So?”

Tim blinks, then shrugs. “We kill it, I suppose. At least get it out of Brian.”

“How do we do that?”

“That’s what I’m asking you!”

Another jet of flame shoots past them, followed by what sounded oddly like a frustrated grunt. The thing still hasn’t actually followed them into the hall, which is a good sign, if somewhat nonsensical. Tim flinches further back instinctively, feeling the heat in her eyes.

“I don’t know what to do,” she confesses. “I don’t know how to get it out without opening Brian up, and he won’t like that. And I can’t even get close to it when it’s breathing fire at us like that.”

“Hmm,” the Toy Soldier hums a thoughtful note. Tim bites her lip, thinking, then lets out a soft laugh. “I’m glad I’m here with you and not Nastya,” she tells TS. “She’d probably suggest kissing it.”

There’s an awkward clank from the shooting range, followed by the sounds of a struggle. Tim glances at TS, who shrugs. “I could kiss it!”

“Could you?” Tim frowns again. “I mean.. I suppose it would just be kissing Brian, wouldn’t it, unless.. D’you think that would work? The kissing?”

“Possibly!” the Toy Soldier sounds positively thrilled about the prospect. “I’m very good at it, you know!”

“I feel like making out with the eldritch blob possessing our crewmate is a bit extreme,” Tim says, peeking around to corner to see what’s happening in the shooting range. What she sees gives her pause.

Brian seems to be fighting back against the thing holding his body hostage. He’s standing in the room where they left him, and every so often he takes a jerky, strained step forward, like he’s having to force himself to step. Although in this case its more likely that he’s trying to stop himself from taking a step. He looks pained, and Tim feels that familiar protective rage rising in her, that feeling of no he’s mine you can’t hurt him. All thoughts of kissing fade away, and she steps out, pistol in hand, and marches back into the shooting range.

“Brian,” she says, and the Drumbot’s head lifts slightly, his eyes still leaking sludgy iridescence. “Bri. Hey. I know you can hear me. Uh. I’m going to do something, and it might be.. A bit uncomfortable for you, but it will hopefully work out in the long run. So do me a favor and… stop fighting it for a moment? Just a moment.”

Brian gives her a wary look, but nods stiffly, clearly using every bit of control he has left. Then he lets go. His face goes blank, and his mouth opens, that glowing heat making another appearance. With a grimace, Tim lifts her pistol and fires.

The bullet flies true, carving straight through the flamethrower mechanism in the back of Brian’s throat and exiting out the back of his head. There’s an inhuman screeching sound, and Brian jerks once as the creature, with its main source of power destroyed, crawls out of the hole left behind.

Brian shudders once, then raises a hand to touch the new hole in his head.

“You alright?” Tim asks, stepping forward. “You.. you?”

“I’m fine,” Brian reassures her. “That could have obliterated my vocal cords, but I’m alright.”

“You’re welcome,” Tim says, tossing her braid back over her shoulder smugly.

“I don’t want to ruin the good mood,” TS says, peeking into the room curiously. “But, where did it go?”

Tim and Brian both freeze, locking terrified eyes. And then the lights go out.

Raphaella, Lyfrassir, Nastya, Ivy: In the dark. 9 left alive, 1 eaten, 1 footless

When the lights go out, someone screams. It’s Lyf. Raphaella shoots them a glare over her shoulder, aware of their ability to see in the dark.

“Sorry,” they whisper. Raphaella frowns. “Why are you whispering?”

“I don’t know,” they admit. “It feels like the right thing to do.”

“Aurora?” That’s Nastya’s voice, coming from just ahead of them. She sounds worried. “Aurora, please say something. Please tell me if you’re hurt. Aurora?”

“Nas?” Raphaella moves forward, stretching a hand out until she bumps into the engineer’s shoulder. Nastya grabs her hand and gives it a quick squeeze, an indication that she’s here and she’s alright. “Raph, good. Is Lyfrassir still with you?”

“Right here,” Lyf says, still whispering. “Where’s Ivy?”

“Here as well,” the archivist pipes up from the other side of Nastya. “Everyone’s okay, as far as we can tell, Aurora simply.. Stopped.”

“Do you think it got to her?” Lyf asks, shifting nervously behind Raphaella.

“It better not have,” Nastya snaps, her concern for her girlfriend evident in her voice.

Raphaella squeezes Nastya’s shoulder and looks around, cursing the fact that she hasn’t given herself night vision yet. “Ives, can you get ahold of Bri?”

Ivy nods and closes her eyes, typing out a message to Brian in her brain. After a moment, she nods again and announces, “He’s alright. Tim and the Toy Soldier are with him. It took control of his body, but they got it out of him and he’s barely hurt.”

“That’s good!” Raphaella exclaims, giving Nastya’s shoulder another squeeze. “That means Aurora should be fine, once we get it out of her!”

Nastya nods, expression growing determined. “How do we get it out of her?”

“Um, I don’t mean to alarm anyone,” Lyf says, sounding a bit shaky. “But there is something wrapped around my leg.”

They sound afraid, but not panicked or in pain, which causes Raphaella to frown. They don’t even sound urgent. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah I’m- I’m fine, it isn’t hurting me. It’s more… it’s like it’s hugging me.”

“Didn’t you say you made it out of their blood?” Ivy inquires, and Raphaella nods. “Perhaps it recognizes them as one of its own.”

“I don’t like the implications of that,” Lyf says quietly, then gives a determined shake of their head. “Right. Now is not the time for a Bifrost-related panic attack.”

“We can use this,” Raphaella perks up suddenly. “We can use your connection to it, Lyffy, to… something.”

Silence falls as the four of them think on it. And then Ivy speaks up. “I have something from Brian. He met up with Jonny and Ashes, and Jonny has an idea. He just needs us to lure it into something smaller and able to be picked up.”

“Can we do that?” Raphaella glances to Lyf, who nods. “Great. Let’s go.”

Lyfrassir, the kitchen. Same situation.

The kitchen is dark and eerie when Lyf enters, stepping carefully over the seething tendrils rising from the floor, grabbing at their legs. It’s almost possessive, the way it reaches for them, curling around them with its oozing tentacles. They can almost hear it talking to them, in their head, whispering mine mine mine. It terrifies that, but they shove it aside to think about later, once they’ve got this dealt with. Instead they focus on locating something small and liftable to lure the thing into. They find something almost instantly.

As they approach the object they’ve chosen, their Bifrost-enhanced eyes land on something in the middle of the floor, a moving shape.

“Hey, babe,” they say, stepping lightly over the half-formed Marius Von Raum to the counter.

“Hi,” fae groans, conscious enough for at least that. “Whatcha up to?”

“Oh, nothing,” Lyf replies, placing their hands gently on the object they want to bring the creature into, watching it curl up around their arms and moving down the walls toward them, chasing the contact. “And… there we are.”

In a flash, Jonny comes pelting into the room. He grabs Small Brian the electric mixer from Lyf’s hands, and as the lights come on he races down the corridor, and the sound of a door sliding open can be heard.

“What did you do?” Brian demands as the first mate reappears, smugly dusting off his hands.

“Tossed it out the airlock,” Jonny grins.

“Right, ‘cause throwing all our problems out an airlock always works,” Ashes snorts. Jonny frowns. “It does.”

Tim shakes her head. “Oh, you are so lucky I can’t roll my eyes too hard without fucking up my face, D’Ville.”

Brian looks gutted. “You- you threw- Small Brian?”

Jonny freezes. “Oh- oh shit, Bri- I didn’t- Shit shit shit.”

“We’re getting it back,” Brian says, folding his arms and glaring. “As soon as Aurora’s recovering, we’re getting it back.”

“How do we know that that thing will die out there and not just… devour a star system?” Lyf asks. Jonny shrugs. “That’s not our problem.”

“I… fair enough,” Lyf sighs, and casts a last look toward the airlock before going to help Marius up.

Brian & Raphaella: Everyone alive and well

They get everything on the ship back in order quickly. Marius is back, and is being regaled with the tales of what he missed by Lyf and Tim. As soon as Aurora is ready to move again, Brian takes her to pick up Small Brian, and he carries the mixer reverently back to its place in the kitchen. “You’re a hero,” he whispers to it, before kissing the top of it lightly. He then gathers all the ingredients to make another cake, a real one this time.

Just as he’s setting up to get everything made, Nastya comes marching out of the corridor from where she’s been checking up on Aurora, a flamethrower in hand.

“Right,” she says, firing up the weapon. “Where are the fuckers who got my girlfriend possessed?”

Raphaella and Brian glance at each other, knowing this was coming. With a grin, Raphaella runs over and grabs Brian’s hand, pulling him after her down the hall and away from the vengeful engineer.

Nastya curses and follows, and Raphaella lifts off the ground, sweeping Brian into her arms bridal-style to easier carry him. He yelps, and then laughs, twisting to look down and watch Nastya chase after them, looking furious.

Raphaella rounds into a tight corner and sets down, letting Brian back on his feet. They’re both giggling, and Brian buries his face in her shoulder, grinning widely. She kisses his hair and strokes it lightly, running her fingers around the edges of the hole in the back of his neck.

Nastya finds them like that, rounding the corner and hefting her flamethrower with a malicious glimmer in her eyes. “There you are,” she hisses, and this time there’s nowhere to run.

“It was fun while it lasted,” Raphaella murmurs to Brian as she pulls back, and he takes her hand.

“Love you always,” he replies, and she leans over to kiss his cheek. “See you soon.”

And together, they face their fate.

36 notes · View notes

ukulelecal · 3 years

Text

Bloom - Part One

The story of flowers.

Pairing: Poet!Luke Hemmings x Female!OC

Warnings: angst!!!! implied smut. perhaps a swear or two. mostly angst

Word count: 4.4k

A/N: can yall believe that this video sent me so feral that i wrote this whole lil mini series in like five days?? i'm not surprised tbh. ANYWAY omg i really am excited for y'all to read this!!! i hope you love it!!! i would love your feedback, and please please remember that reblogs mean the absolute world to creators!

series masterlist

masterlist // posted on ao3

Devon would never forget the first poem Luke wrote for her.

He was a blushing mess as he handed her the folded piece of paper, insisting she read it later because he didn’t want to see her reaction. He had a lip ring then, blond hair spiked up and a wardrobe full of band t-shirts and black skinny jeans. He certainly didn’t look like how anyone would imagine a poet, but one look at his work would tell anyone that he had the mind for the craft.

Luke’s way with words was unmatched. Devon always called it a superpower; the way he was able to capture readers with words strung together so beautifully and paint a picture in the brain. He made people feel something. He had a gift, no doubt.

All of his poems were breathtaking, and he wrote many for her. The first would always be her favorite.

It was called The Orchids. The poem compared a woman to a field of orchids, delicate and lush. It was simple but sweet. Devon vividly remembered the rush of giddiness she felt as she read it, knowing it was written just for her. She remembered calling Luke after reading it over and over again, gushing about how much she loved it. He explained to her later that he chose orchids because the color of the shirt she was wearing the day they met reminded him of them.

They were only freshmen in college then. First time away from home, getting their first taste of real independence. Of adulthood. They met in a seminar class that every first year student had to take. One that everyone else hated but Luke and Devon loved, just because they got to see each other. A couple of coffee dates lead to The Orchids, which lead to a loving relationship and many, many more poems.

College was just about to come to an end now. Graduation was coming up fast, and that brought the simultaneously exciting and dreadful question: what next?

The future was something that used to delight Luke and Devon. Countless nights, they talked about marriage, a house, a dog, children. Luke would be a renowned poet, Devon a respected social worker. They had it all planned out. Even if their white picket fence dreams fell through, they would be happy so long as they had each other.

With graduation creeping closer and closer, Devon wasn’t so sure about their plans.

It wasn’t that she didn’t want it anymore. She still loved Luke with all of her heart. She wanted everything they had talked about, a future with him. Some deeper thinking into her career led her heart elsewhere.

It came out at dinner one evening, sat at the table of Devon and Luke’s shared apartment that they had moved into junior year.

“I’ve been thinking about going to grad school,” she blurted out. She twisted her spaghetti on her fork to distract herself. His face lit up, but Devon didn’t quite share his excitement. She knew this was something she wanted, but she was about to make a huge sacrifice that she had been trying to convince herself that she was ready for.

“Yeah? That’s great, Dev!” Luke cheered. “Here?”

The proud smile on his face quickly dropped when he saw the look of dread on hers. Graduate school was certainly a good thing, but if she wasn’t thrilled, Luke knew there must be a catch.

“Not here?” Devon shook her head. “Then where?”

The name of the school that she mumbled under her breath made Luke’s heart sink. It was far away. Very far.

“Oh.”

Luke wanted to kick himself for being disappointed. It was selfish, so selfish. He should have been proud that Devon wanted to further her education, and he was. He couldn’t fathom trying to take that away from her, but the thought of his girl being so far away was gut wrenching.

He wiped the frown off his face as quickly as it came. He reminded himself that he needed to be supportive, even if it hurt.

“That’s awesome, baby. I’m really proud of you.”

Devon knew he wasn’t lying when he said he was proud of her, but she could tell he wasn’t as excited as he was trying to seem.

“You don’t have to act happy about this, Lu,” she murmured, still pushing her pasta around. “I know what you’re thinking.”

He sighed and dropped his fork on his plate. Of course she saw through him. She always did. After four years of being together, Devon knew Luke better than anyone.

“I really am proud of you for doing this, honey. Don’t think that I’m not. It’s just…” he trailed off, unable to think of a way to put what he wanted to say without sounding selfish. “It’s so far away.”

Devon swallowed the lump in her throat. She was headstrong, and she knew that she needed to put her career and her own desires first. That didn’t mean it hurt any less to move so far away from the love of her life.

“I know, bubs,” she whispered. “But this is something I really want for myself. For my future.”

“Oh, honey, I know,” Luke sighed, not wanting her to feel bad. “I want you to do this. But the distance...I know it’s selfish of me-”

“It’s not selfish, Luke,” she interrupted, shaking her head softly. “It’s not easy for me either. But this school has the best graduate program for social work. Besides, I haven’t finished my application yet and I’m applying to some other places too. I might not even get in.”

Perhaps the most selfish thing of all was that a tiny part of him hoped she wouldn’t get in. It would break her heart if she didn’t, but maybe she wouldn’t be so far. Luke hated himself for the thought even crossing his mind for a split second.

Devon could see how this was affecting him. She understood; she knew he was planning on proposing shortly after graduation, though they were in no hurry to actually get married until they both had secure jobs. Moving hundreds of miles away for two years undoubtedly threw a wrench in the plans.

She had gone back and forth for a while as she searched for grad schools. As much as she wanted to stay close, her future career was something that she valued greatly. Devon was a first generation college student, and she wanted nothing more than to make her family proud. However, Luke was important too. The distance wouldn’t be easy, but she tried to be optimistic. She could only hope that he would want to try too.

“Don’t think like that, Dev,” Luke mumbled. He let out a deep sigh, running a hand through his hair. His desire for Devon to succeed and his desire to keep her close were battling each other, and it only frustrated him.

He thought about his words for a few moments, but couldn’t find the right thing to say.

“We’ll talk about it later, okay?”

Devon gave a silent nod. She needed to let him feel this out, and honestly, she needed to do the same. Thinking about it was one thing, but actually telling Luke was another. She had been stressing over it for a while, and now that it was finally out, her and Luke had to actually deal with it together.

The couple finished their dinner in silence, the only sounds to be heard being the slight scraping of forks against plates and the occasional sighs.

Devon couldn’t help but feel guilty. Over the years, she had conditioned herself to put her own aspirations first. She had sacrificed a lot for others in her lifetime, but many people had made sacrifices for her as well. She felt she had found a balance between taking care of herself and taking care of the people around her. She knew that moving away for a while for her own benefit would have an effect on her relationship, but she didn’t feel as if she had to choose one or the other. If Luke was willing to try to make things work, then so was she.

Luke took his last bite of spaghetti and stood up from the table. He silently made his way to the sink to wash his plate before turning back to Devon.

“I’m going to write for a bit, okay?” He mumbled, slowly making his way towards the spare bedroom that doubled as his workspace. No doubt a poem was going to come out of everything he was feeling at the moment. Devon nodded and her brown eyes watched as Luke turned on his heel to walk away.

“Luke?” She called out before he got too far. He turned around with a hum of acknowledgement. “I love you.”

Despite the anxiety and dread he was feeling, he smiled.

He walked back over to where Devon still sat at the table. With her face cradled lovingly in his hands, he bent down to press a soft yet meaningful kiss to her lips. The kiss said that even if things were uncertain, this wasn’t over.

“I love you too.”

…

Devon’s breath caught in her throat when an email from her top choice grad school came through.

She had poured over her personal statement and fretted over her interview. No matter how much everyone assured her, she couldn’t help the anxiety that ate her away.

With a deep breath, she opened the email.

Accepted with a scholarship.

“Luke! Bubs, I got in! I got in!”

She ran into the spare bedroom where Luke was hunched over one of his many poetry notebooks. His head whipped up at his girlfriend’s yells, his brain taking a moment to process her words after being in the writing zone.

For a moment, neither of them were thinking about the distance. All that mattered was Devon’s amazing achievement.

Luke stood up to meet her. Devon practically tackled him in a hug and he easily held her close.

“Congratulations, honey,” he mumbled into her hair. “Fuck, I’m so proud of you.”

He held her for a few minutes, neither of them able to wipe the smiles off their faces. This meant a lot to Devon, and Luke knew it. He knew from the moment he met her that she was going to do great things in life. She was motivated, intelligent, passionate. Anyone could see it. It was one of the many things he loved about her.

Luke pulled away in favor of cupping her cheeks in his hands. Devon flushed under his adoring gaze, eyes falling downwards.

“You’re incredible, Devon Murphy.”

She kissed him as a form of thanks, melting into each other’s touch. Their eyes met when they pulled away, bright blue and warm brown. Devon wasn’t the wordsmith that Luke was, but she didn’t have to be. Her eyes and her actions told him and everyone else everything that they needed to know. Devon was in love with him, and Luke, her.

Even with Luke’s way with words, Devon could read his eyes too. They were just as expressive as his poetry. As they gazed at each other, she could see the flash of sorrow as his mind travelled elsewhere. She didn’t need to ask to know what he was thinking about.

“Luke…” she whispered with a softened gaze. The guilt was returning, although she knew she had nothing to feel guilty about. She had always struggled with her determination to put herself first. It wasn’t Luke’s fault either, however; his feelings about her leaving were completely valid.

“No. None of that right now,” he stated, shaking his head. “This is a huge accomplishment, Dev. We’re not going to be sad tonight.”

A grin tugged at the corner of Devon’s lips as Luke pulled away, grabbing his phone from the desk and sticking it in his pocket. He placed a hand on the small of her back and led her to the door of the bedroom.

“I think you deserve a celebratory dinner, honey, yeah?” He offered, handing trailing to the side to hold her waist. She chuckled and leaned into him.

“You could throw in a frozen pizza and I’d be happy, bubs.”

“Hell no,” he scoffed as if it was the most ridiculous suggestion in the world. “You just got into grad school! I’m taking you out for dinner. If you want pizza, we can get pizza, but not a frozen one.”

Devon couldn’t help but throw her arms around him again, burying her face into his chest. He tilted his head down to press a kiss to the top of her head. She knew this wasn’t easy, and she was beyond grateful that he was being supportive.

“Thank you, bubs. I love you.”

“I love you too, honey. So are we getting pizza, or do you want to go somewhere else? It’s up to you.”

“Pizza sounds good. Can we go to the place with the good garlic knots?”

Luke laughed as he slipped on his shoes.

“Of course we can.”

Devon slipped on her own shoes and grabbed her denim jacket from the hook by the door before the couple made their way downstairs. Luke’s beat up Prius came into view as they stepped into the parking lot. Devon had named the car Bertha; she was old and a little rusty, but she got the job done.

Luke drove to the small pizzeria not far from their apartment complex. Once inside, they were seated quickly and ordered garlic knots and a pizza to share.

“We haven’t talked much about your writing lately,” Devon said once the waitress walked away. “What have you been working on?”

Luke shrugged and sipped his water.

“Not much. I haven’t really gotten anything good out.”

Truthfully, he had written a lot of poems about Devon leaving. He wasn’t going to tell her that at their celebratory dinner, though.

“In a slump?” She queried sincerely.

“Yeah, a bit.”

“Maybe next weekend we can go out, go to the park. You always get inspired there.”

Luke grinned and reached across the table for her hand.

“I’d love that, Dev.”

The rest of dinner flew by, conversation getting lost in buttery garlic knots and savory pizza. Luke offered dessert, but Devon was too full to even think about it. A sly joke about having her for dessert at home had the giggling couple paying the check and driving home at record speed where Luke certainly made good on his promise.

Devon and Luke laid in bed that night where whispered I love you’s and gentle kisses put them to sleep. Not a negative thought in either of their minds. They were content, but the future still loomed menacingly ahead.

…

The apartment was once a place of solace. It was a place where Luke and Devon could get away from the stress of college life and simply be together. It was safe and comforting. A place they knew they were always welcome.

As time went on, the apartment slowly shifted from a place of joy to a place of dread.

Graduation day was coming up, and both Devon and Luke knew what that meant.

They busied themselves with assignments and exams, Devon simultaneously preparing herself for grad school. She didn’t say much about it to Luke; whenever it came up, the tension between them only got stronger. It led to them bickering about other things to avoid the conversation.

Before they knew it, graduation had come and passed. Devon and Luke officially had their bachelor’s degrees, Luke in creative writing and Devon in social work. The days leading up to it were a good distraction, celebrations with friends and family taking their minds off the move. But it was over. Devon needed to get to her new city soon to set up her new apartment and get her bearings before school started. It was time to face the music.

“Luke?” Devon mumbled as he came out of the spare bedroom. She had been waiting for him to finish so they could talk.

He sighed and sat down next to her on the couch, knowing exactly what this was about. They both had been dreading the conversation, but he knew just as well as her that they needed to discuss it before it was too late.

“Are you ready for this?” She whispered, glancing at him with sad eyes. He didn’t return her gaze.

“I don’t think I’ll ever be ready to be away from you for this long, honey.”

Luke could feel his guard coming down. He wanted this for Devon, but he was struggling to keep his want for her to stay close suppressed.

“I don’t want you to think I’m not considering you in this,” she began, reaching for his hand in his lap. “Leaving won’t be easy for me either.”

“I know.”

He was too scared to say much else.

The couple was silent for a moment. They racked their brains for something to say that would make the situation easier on either of them.

“Maybe you could come with.”

Devon regretted it as soon as it came out of her mouth.

Luke huffed and sent her a look.

“You know I can’t do that.”

She did know. If he could do that, he would have jumped on the opportunity immediately. Luke couldn’t afford to move. He was working on fulfilling his lifelong dream of releasing a poetry book. He was getting so close. Publishers were starting to take interest in him, and he nearly had enough money saved to cover the costs. It was difficult to save money when his part time job at a local bookstore didn’t pay much in the first place and he still needed to pay for school as well as his share of the rent and groceries, among other necessary things. Devon was a little luckier. Neither of their families had much to contribute, and she needed to pay for the same things as him, but her part time job paid better than his and she had money saved from when she managed to land a paid internship first semester. It was covering the costs of her move and grad school.

“I know. I’m sorry.”

She watched him for another moment, trying to fight back the tears that were welling in her eyes.

“Please say something, Luke,” she whimpered. All she wanted was for him to affirm what she so desperately wanted; for them to be okay.

He finally looked at her, both sets of eyes red rimmed. Devon squeezed his hand.

“Do you really have to go, Dev?”

The break in his voice sent the first tear gliding down Devon’s cheek.

“You know how much this means to me, Lu. I really think we can make this work.”

“Can we? Can we really?” Luke’s tone turned frustrated. Devon’s mouth dropped open slightly. Did he not believe they could last?

“What are you saying?” She whispered, voice shaking.

He sighed and roughly stood up, dropping Devon’s hand in the process.

“We’ll never talk. We’ll both be so busy. You’ll have school, I’ll be working. And you know neither of us have the money to be visiting each other often. There will hardly be anything,” he rambled, pacing around the living room. Maybe his selfish side was coming out, but he felt he was just being realistic.

Luke always aimed for realism, particularly in his poetry. He wrote largely about real life experiences and channeled his emotions into beautiful, flowing rhymes. His best work came from personal connection.

Sometimes, he couldn’t help but write about what he wished he had.

His idealistic poems were never about Devon; his relationship with her was practically perfect. But this was something that no idealistic poem could fix. No words could change what was happening to them.

“I’ll make time for you, Luke. Won’t you do the same?” She questioned, growing frustrated as well. She had wanted him to share her optimism, but clearly he didn’t. A part of her knew he was right, but she wasn’t going to back down.

“Of course I’ll make time. But will it be enough? No matter how much we try, will it be enough to keep what we have going? Look at what it’s doing to us now! You haven’t even left yet and we can barely keep it together.”

“Do you really have that little faith in us, Luke?” Her voice was calm, despite how she felt on the inside. She narrowed her eyes at him. “No one said it would be easy. But we’ve been together for four years. I believe in us.”

Luke took another breath, trying his best to keep his emotions and tears at bay.

“I want to believe in us, Devon. I really do.” He turned to look at her. Her cheeks were stained with tears, and it only made his heart ache more. “I still want a future with you. I want the house and the dog and the kids we’ve always talked about. But I have a bad feeling. We’ve never been away from each other for more than a few weeks. I just...the distance is going to break us.”

Luke’s own words cut him like a knife. As much as he wanted to believe they could last, his own insecurities caused him doubt. He wasn’t sure if he truly believed that or if he just wanted to save himself the heartbreak of being away from Devon for so long.

Devon let his words sink in. Even if it did break them before she finished her degree, she was willing to try until they couldn’t anymore. Maybe he was right. Maybe the distance would break them eventually. But it hurt her that he didn’t have any faith at all. Still, she understood where he was coming from.

There was no winner in this situation.

She thought for a moment, and finally came to the conclusion that they were both thinking about.

“Fine.” She slowly stood up from the couch and looked him in the eye. They were both shattered. Hearts were breaking into a million pieces simultaneously. Devon put on the most stoic face she could muster with tears still leaking from her eyes. “We obviously want different things right now. I have school, you have your book, and clearly we can’t handle both at the same time. Maybe there shouldn’t be an us.”

Although he had essentially been the one to suggest it, her words felt like a punch in the gut.

This wasn’t what either of them wanted. This wasn’t supposed to happen. But the truth was becoming more and more apparent. They couldn’t do this. Not now.

However, Luke mimicked Devon’s actions and put on a blank face.

“Maybe there shouldn’t.”

They stared at each other for another few moments. Reality was setting in. This was the end of Luke and Devon. All of the coffee dates, the love poems, living off Ramen and questionable dining hall food together, walks in the park, kisses, I love you’s, the late night talks of the future, everything gone down the drain.

Devon shut herself in the bedroom before Luke could see her break.

…

The next month before Devon moved was painful. Her and Luke hardly said a word to each other. They ate their meals separately, not bothering to cook together like they used to or order food to share. They both spent time with friends before everyone went off to their new adult lives. When they weren’t out, Devon locked herself in the bedroom while Luke did the same in the spare. They hadn’t slept in the same bed since before their fight.

Devon spent a lot of free time packing. She went through all of her belongings, creating piles of things to keep, things to donate, and things to throw away.

She soon came across something that made all of her emotions about the breakup resurface.

It was the shoebox that she kept all of the poems Luke had written for her in. She kept every single one.

With a quivering lip, she opened the box and gazed at its contents. Piles of folded papers were neatly tucked inside, his declarations of love all written out in one place. They were her most prized possessions. She went back and reread them often, and the feeling of having someone love her like Luke did was the best feeling in the world.

Devon choked out a sob, burying her face into her hands in hopes that he wouldn’t hear her through the thin walls. The fact that he was right next door hurt her even more. The caring, gentle boy that made her swoon with his charming smile and romantic poetry. He made her fall in love with him all over again every day. He was everything, and she lost him.

She slowly read through each poem. Instead of joy and adoration, all she felt was anguish and heartache. She never thought she would feel this way about Luke.

When she got to the bottom, she pulled out the last poem, and her heart completely broke in her chest.

The Orchids.

Devon couldn’t keep her sobs at bay. She clutched the paper to her chest, every bit of pain coming out in tears.

Luke could hear her through the wall.

His heart told him to run in and comfort her. His brain told him it would only make things worse for both of them.

He plugged his ears, trying to block out the dreadful sound. He was in just as much pain as her, but the sound of the love of his life’s sorrow only made his own worse.

Glancing down at the open notebook in front of him, he reread the poem he was writing, and soon he found himself joining Devon in tears.

It was called Wilted. Their relationship that had once been a beautiful flower, an orchid, lost its sunlight and its water, and now it had wilted. Dead, grey, dried up.

Luke dropped his pen and folded his arms on the desk, burying his head into them. He cried.

The broken couple, only separated by a thin wall, might as well have already been miles apart. They cried together, but there was no sense of unity between them. Their pain was past what any poem could portray.

104 notes · View notes

thatshithurted8 · 4 years

Text

July

Summary: Watching who you thought was the love of your life change into a completely different person because of drugs was heartbreaking, but everyone reaches their breaking point eventually.

Inspired by the song July by Noah Cyrus.

Word Count: 1.5k

Warnings: Mention of emotional and mental abuse, gas lighting, manipulation and drug use.

It’s to be expected that every relationship has their ups and downs. But during the first year of yours and Rafe’s relationship you two had more ups than downs, which you were extremely grateful for. However, a lot of people had strong opinions about Ward Cameron’s infamous son, Rafe and his actions.

These labels and assumptions about your relationship and boyfriend bothered you at first, but then you came to a realization that no one knows Rafe the way you do and they’re only judging him off of what he portrays to the world.

However, you noticed a shift in your relationship right after your one year anniversary. You don’t know how it started exactly, but you remembered Rafe calling you to pick him up from parties. Of course you obliged, leaving your school work scattered on your desk to be the designated driver for your boyfriend. But when you would pick him up you would notice him sniffling continuously all the while acting differently than he normally does when he’s drunk.

Your suspicions of what your boyfriend was doing finally came to light when you saw Rafe snort a line of coke with your own eyes. This only started a fight and the beginning of the end of your relationship.

I've been holding my breath I've been counting to ten Over something you said I've been holding back tears While you're throwing back beers I'm alone in bed

Friday nights were reserved date nights for you and Rafe. All of yours and Rafe’s friends knew that so you were extremely annoyed when Rafe walked into the living room with a keg while you were setting up the movies you two were going to watch.

“Uh what’s that for?”

“My dad and Rose are out of town for a stupid business thing so I thought we should have a party.” Rafe says, his eyes frantically scanning his surroundings. His eyes were dilated and you could tell that he was already high off of the white substance you despised.

“Aren’t you forgetting that it’s date night?” You ask raising a brow at him.

Rafe simply rolls his eyes. “We do the same shit every date night and it’s not fun anymore. They cause more stress than good.” He says stumbling over his words.

Taken aback from your boyfriends words you set the tv remote on the couch before walking to Rafe’s room with tears in your eyes, leaving the snacks you prepared out on the coffee table. Rafe doesn’t seem phased by you walking away from him, seemingly hurt. Instead he walks into the large kitchen in search for red solo cups.

As the music down stairs boomed throughout the house you laid in Rafe’s bed. His comment earlier was really taking a toll on you even though you knew it was the drugs talking. Even though you tried to ease your racing mind you had to continuously count to ten while taking deep breaths and holding back tears. The chatter of teenagers and music made you want to scream, but instead you stayed put laying motionless in Rafe’s bed that smelt like him.

Rafe snorts another line of the white substance on the coffee table before grabbing the bowl of potato chips that you set out for your movie night. As he stuffs his mouth with the salty snack, laughing at something Kelce said tears finally escaped your eyes.

You know I, I'm afraid of change Guess that's why we stay the same

As you grew up you associated change as a negative thing. It seemed as if every bad thing that has happened in your life was a result of some sort of change. So that was why you liked routine and Rafe was understanding of that.

However, the change within Rafe was slow and unexpected. It crept up on you like a cheetah prowling for their prey. When you finally realized that your relationship with Rafe drastically changed you felt as if it was too late. In reality it wasn’t too late Rafe just made you feel like it was.

So tell me to leave, I'll pack my bags, get on the road Find someone that loves you better than I do, darling, I know 'Cause you remind me every day, I'm not enough, but I still stay

The boy you claimed to love made you feel as if you would never find anyone better than him and that you were always in the wrong, no matter the situation. During your now frequent arguments Rafe would blame you for his drug problem, saying that you were stressing him out and shit.

He would also make you believe that you were the one to change and that you don’t love him anymore. You two have had countless fights about Rafe claiming you don’t love him, resulting in you leaving his house in a hurry to go to yours. Some fights have gotten so out of hand that you wanted to skip town all together.

Despite all of the shit Rafe has put you through you truly believed that you still loved him. And at times you wished and hoped and even craved for the old Rafe. The Rafe before drugs. The Rafe that you only saw. Every now and then that side would come out, making you hopeful that staying with him despite the mental turmoil he has put you through was the right decision.

You so desperately wanted Rafe to go back to the boy you feel in love with. Although he seemingly reminded you every day while he was high as to why you weren’t enough for him and anyone else, you still stayed. You knew you should’ve left a long time ago, but you chased after the glimpses of the old Rafe you would see in between his highs.

Feels like a lifetime Just tryna get by While we're dying inside I've done a lot of things wrong Loving you being one But I can't move on

Every day that went by while you continued to stay with Rafe dragged on and on. He was weighing you down and there was nothing you’d rather do than sleep. Rafe has torn down your self esteem so much that you barely had any left if at all.

When you laid in bed at night after days worth of physically draining work at the charity you volunteered at for your college applications your mind would drift. It would drift and make you question as to what things have you done in your life that were wrong.

You realized that loving Rafe was something you did wrong, which causes you to allow yourself to cry for the first time in weeks. Over the past few weeks you could feel your optimism and happiness deteriorating and it was all thanks to your boyfriend who supposedly loved you.

And once again, despite all of this you still found yourself madly in love with Rafe.

So tell me to leave, I'll pack my bags

At some point everyone eventually reaches their breaking point. The straw that broke the camels back was Rafe failing to show up to your two year anniversary dinner. Instead he opted out to party with his friends and get high on the substance that he loved more than you.

The embarrassment of being stood up by your boyfriend at one of the most prestigious restaurants in town made your skin crawl. You remember the sad glances and whispers you received from the other guests enjoying their meals.

Deciding to go home after an hour and a half of waiting you saw all over snapchat where Rafe was and what he was too busy doing to show up to your anniversary dinner. At that point you didn’t know what you expected. Rafe promised you while he was sober that he was going to come and it was going to be the best date you’ve ever been on. However, you were let down again.

A few days went by and Rafe hasn’t even bothered to text you. He was probably too busy on a bender or getting high while sleeping on Toppers couch.

As you sat in your bed you looked around your room and at the pictures that scattered your walls. The pictures of you and Rafe used to bring you so much happiness, but now you felt nothing. Your eyes continue to scan your baby blue walls and they eventually land on the acceptance letters to the universities you applied to that your mom made you frame.

You were supposed to stay in the Outer Banks and go to the university in the town over. That way you could see Rafe on a daily basis, in fact it was his idea. But that’s not what you wanted anymore. Letting out a huff you start to pack your bags knowing that your decision was going to potentially alter your life forever.

Watching Rafe turn into a different person all the while you tried to help him was draining and heart breaking. Everything you’ve been through the past year has piled up and you were finally done.

It was your time to leave.

Question of the day: Whats your biggest relationship deal breaker and why?

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lilhawkeye3 · 3 years

Text

Find Your Way Back Home- Ch 3

Riyo Chuchi x Commander Wolffe, Riyo Chuchi x Commander Fox

Rating: T |||| Word Count: 1.9k |||| Set Post Order 66 |||| AO3 Link

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Riyo gripped the kitchen countertop tighter than anything in her whole life. The loud pounding of her heartbeat in her ears threatened to drown out the pounding of her heart as she sought a tether point in her whirlwind of emotions.

She couldn’t do this.

How could she do this? The ghosts she’d left on Coruscant were now seeking shelter in her bedroom.

She’d looked at Wolffe laid out on her bed, and some sick part of her expected him to be Fox. She used to bandage her lover’s wounds on their bed in her old apartment. What had she done to deserve this cosmic taunt?

“Riyo?”

Riyo’s hands flew to her mouth to hold in her startled shriek at Ahsoka’s appearance just to her left. Her friend’s lips twisted into an apologetic smile, and she patiently waited for Riyo to come down from her sudden rush of adrenaline. Her rusty hand cupped Riyo’s elbow to help ground her.

“I’m so sorry,” Riyo murmured, blinking rapidly to hide her brimming tears before she met Ahsoka’s gaze.

The Togruta’s eyes were sad as she searched for the right words, despite them both knowing nothing would ease Riyo’s pain. “You see him.”

Riyo tried to laugh, but it came out as more of a gasp for air after so long underwater. “How can I not?” Her tears stubbornly refused to fall now, despite clamoring at the floodgates only moments ago. “I can’t… I can’t focus on this right now.”

“You can’t go back in there right now either,” Ahsoka calmly pointed out. “Wolffe needs to heal.”

And so grew her guilt. “I know.” She needed to do something to keep her hands and mind busy. “I’ll get some more juvan ready so I can make a cold pack and show Rex what to do. You’ll both need to know how for when you go back.” She tried to ignore the predatory way Ahsoka’s eyes followed her around the kitchen as she gathered supplies.

“I find that talking helps sometimes,” Ahsoka quietly suggested, once Riyo stood back at the sink with her items gathered around.

“I’m not sure I remember how to do that after so long on my own,” Riyo muttered, grabbing a bundle of leaves from a jar more harshly than they deserved.

“No time better than the present.”

Riyo paused to stare calculatingly at her friend. She wasn’t lying about not knowing if she’d be able to speak of her nightmares after so long bottling it all in. “I propose a trade.”

One of Ahsoka’s painted brows rose in interest. “A trade.”

“I will tell you if you update me on your… situation.” She’d tiptoed around the circumstances of her guests’ arrival– and unlikely survival– for the past few days.

“Alright, deal.”

Riyo’s hands hovered uncertainly as she tries to steady her breathing before she begins. Where to even start? She’d tried so hard to forget that night six months ago. Now she had to relive it in full.

“I… I was home for the night.” Riyo doesn’t even recognize her voice with how vacant it sounds. “Everything was normal, even when I got a call from Co– Thire.” She didn’t want to relegate them to their titles. Those men– her friends– were worth much more than that. “He’d call sometimes if Fox was too busy to come home.”

Breathe in, one, two, three, breathe out.

“There’s– there was a code phrase Fox had me agree to. Dusk is falling soon. If one of us used it in a communication, we knew it was from the other.” Her hands began to shake as she ground the juvan up. “Thire said it to me that night. He said I had to flee Coruscant while I still could, before I was marked as a traitor by the Chancellor. That Fox needed to know I was safe, because… because he didn’t think he was coming home.”

“Oh, Riyo…”

Riyo tried to laugh but she choked on her voice. “No, no it’s fine. Please don’t feel sorry for me, not after–”

Not after what you’ve lost. It hangs in the air like a shadow, chilling the two women to the bone.

She could feel Ahsoka’s eyes on her for a long moment before she conceded. “Alright. So you fled Coruscant?”

Riyo nodded. “Yes. I waited for him, but… then I gathered those I could and had a trusted pilot shuttle us off. It wasn’t just those from my office, though. There were several other members from Pantora’s allies that we also safely evacuated. It was beneficial in the long run, since the number of hyperspace jumps we needed to make ensured that we weren’t followed.”

“That was wise of you,” Ahsoka confirmed. “You most likely had been tailed. The Empire has been interrogating anyone they view even as having a potential to be rebellious.”

Riyo dipped her head in a gentle nod. “And I never was one of the Cha– Emperor’s greedy followers,” she added.

Her friend’s lips quirked up in a humorless smile. “No, you weren’t.”

“Anyways, I timed my resignation to autosend sometime during our flight, and I contacted Bail, who gave us directions to follow. That’s all there really is to tell,” Riyo sheepishly shrugged, relieved to be finished and able to turn her attention back to the juvan leaves she’d laid out. They needed to be diced and then ground with water into a paste that could be either frozen and saved, or wrapped in a damp cloth and held to the wound.

“So, my turn then?” Ahsoka asked, faux-cheer evident in her voice but appreciated.

Riyo nodded, thankful for something else to focus on. She beckoned her over though, waiting until the Togruta was looking over her shoulder. “Just make sure to watch how I do it, so you’ll be able to on your own. The leaves have to be separated carefully, or you’ll negate the medicinal qualities.”

Ahsoka observed quietly as Riyo worked, nodding along to each specific task that Riyo pointed out. It was quite simple, but an untrained eye would still mess it up. It was nice to have someone at her side. She’d been so used to being alone.

“We agreed on a trade?” Ahsoka prompted, once Riyo stepped aside and handed the knife over for her to try. “Would you still like to hear what we’ve seen?”

Riyo bit the inside of her cheek to try and keep herself afloat in the surge of stress that threatens to sweep her away. “Yes, please.”

Ahsoka nodded sharply, and then the knife made its first clean slice. “We were on our way back from Mandalore after apprehending Darth Maul– the Sith Zabrak,” she elaborated for Riyo’s sake. “And an order went out to all the clone troopers, everywhere in the galaxy: execute Order 66, to kill the Jedi.” Her fingers clenched around the knife handle to the point that Riyo thought it’d snap. “Somehow Rex… he fought it long enough to warn me to find a file about Fives, an ARC trooper that–”

Riyo could feel the blood drain from her face at the mention of that name, one she’d long forgotten. “I remember. Fox… he shot him, to protect the Emperor.” It felt like lifetimes ago.

In a twisted sense, it was. It’d been during Fox’s lifetime, when he still came home to her every night.

Ahsoka hummed in agreement. “Right. Well, Fives had told Rex that the clones all had control chips in their heads, and that a damaged chip had caused another trooper to shoot a Jedi. No one believed him.” Her shoulders drooped. “I was able to capture Rex and take the chip out of his head, and he was back to normal. I… I let Maul out of his cell though as a distraction, and he damaged the ship so it crashed into a moon. We lost the whole battalion,” she finished in a whisper, head bowed.

“Oh, Ahsoka,” Riyo gasped. She wasn’t sure how a hug would be received, so she placed a comforting hand on her friend’s shoulder. “I’m so sorry.”

Ahsoka’s eyes were teary when she looked up. “Thank you, but please don’t be for me. I took a risk, and it was Rex’s brothers that paid the consequences.” She shrugged half-heartedly. “I’m glad we found Wolffe. There have been other clones that escaped, but Wolffe was always one of his closest brothers.”

A small smile slipped onto her face unbidden. “I’m glad for the both of them as well. How did you find Com– Wolffe, though? You all barely made it here,” she pointed out.

The Togruta sighed. “You know Bail’s been coordinating a lot recently. We were sent out on a mission to try and contact a defector from the Empire. They’re a medic, and they’ve been treating several troopers sent to them for abnormal behavior. We arrived to get them out, and Wolffe was their latest patient, but they were being watched.” She stopped talking to peer at her work cautiously. “Is this correct?”

She stepped out of the way so Riyo could observe her work. “This is very good for anyone’s first try,” Riyo praised her. “Now we just need to grind it with some water to get a thick enough paste.”

Ahsoka waited for Riyo to set up the next step before continuing. “We had the freed men escort the medic onto our waiting ship, but we couldn’t take Wolffe back to base because of his chip. I followed their instructions to try and deactivate it, but we had to leave in a hurry. It took us a few days and several firefights before we lost them well enough to get here.”

“Had no idea you’d gotten that good with a blaster, either.”

Riyo bit back a shriek as Rex’s voice piped up from behind them. Good thing she’d been using the mortar and not a knife, otherwise she might’ve cut herself. At least he had the decency to send her an apologetic smile once she whirled around to face him.

“Gee thanks, Rex,” Ahsoka huffed, reaching out to playfully slap his chest. The two of them shared a grin, and Riyo decided to study the wooden floor beneath her feet until they snapped out of it. She wouldn’t dare disrupt their small moment of joy.

“I came out to let you know Wolffe is asleep again,” Rex finally explained his presence after he shook himself free of their little bubble. “We spoke some, but he tired quickly.”

That was good. He clearly was suffering from some form of head injury, so any amount of time Wolffe was able to be awake and coherent was a step in the right direction.

“Alright, that’s wonderful news. We should be able to apply this compress despite that.�� Riyo picked up the bowl of ground javun and gestured at a clean cloth folded on the counter top. “Would you grab that and come with me? I’ll show you what to do, so you know how in the future.”

A quiet grief crept up her spine with each step she took back towards Wolffe’s room. He needed her help. She could pull herself together for him.

Riyo entered the room alone and took the seat beside Wolffe’s still form. Rex would be along in a minute.

Until then, she studied the still man’s face, finding and cataloguing each unique feature of him and hoping it wouldn’t come back to haunt her like before.

#find your way back home #commander wolffe x riyo chuchi #riyo chuchi #ahsoka tano #captain rex #post order 66 #fanfiction #star wars #the clone wars #commander wolffe #snowwolf

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hellorebecca · 3 years

Text

Back From the War

Some 80s era Stancest I wrote a while back. Inspired by some of @nekoaimy‘s posts on the subject.

*****************************************

"So, um, you okay?" Stan asked, his hands unsteady.

Ford nodded, and sipped from his mug of coffee. "I feel better, now."

"Okay," said Stan. He breathed out a sigh, ran a hand through his hair. "Okay."

It was almost surreal, remembering the events of the past hour: him and Stanley fighting over the journal in the portal room, him branding his brother's shoulder (and oh, was that going to leave a mark), the shove, the panic that filled him as he floated above the room--

Then, the rope, the relief, as he was slowly pulled back to earth by his brother's strong arms.

Stanley cleared his throat, snapping Ford out of his reverie. "So, what's up?" he asked, a look of concern on his face. "You kinda spaced out for a second there."

Ford shook his head. "Just thinking over the day's events," he said softly. Then: "How's your shoulder?"

Stan looked ashamed, as if he had been the one who had burned his own brother. "I mean, it hurts, but... it's fine, really. I mean, I can still use it." He rotated his right arm for emphasis. Ford couldn't help noticing the wince that Stan made at moving it around.

“Let me take a look at that,” he said, setting his mug down and reaching his hand towards his brother’s wound.

Stan hesitated; then, he slowly took off his jacket and shirt, carefully avoiding touching the cloth to the brand. Ford drew in a deep breath as he took in Stanley’s bare back. His muscles were cushioned under a layer of fat, and there were scars scattered across his skin. There was one particularly nasty one, just above his waist, that Ford wished he could ask about, but he just didn’t have the time.

Right. The brand. “How badly does it hurt?” asked Ford, as he carefully inspected the still-blistering scar.

“Honestly, it’s not too bad,” Stan answered. “I mean, I’ve definitely had worse.”

“Hmm.” Ford gingerly touched the tips of his fingers to Stan’s brand; he couldn’t help his heart from sinking when Stan flinched away from that. “Well, first we need to clean it, of course.” He went to the cabinet and got out a rag and the first aid kit. He ran the faucet cold over the rag, and added a little dish soap for good measure. Gently, he washed the burn, taking care not to pop any of the blisters. He then fished out a tube of aloe vera from the first aid kit.

“Pull your hair back for me,” said Ford. “I don’t want this to get messy.”

Stanley did as he was told, and Ford carefully spread the lotion over his brother’s charred skin. As he did so, he thought of long, hot summer nights, when they would rub aloe vera into each others’ sunburned backs. It was a good memory, and Ford felt a pleasant shiver thinking about it. Stan let out a sigh of relief, apparently releasing some of the tension from what had happened that night.

“Good, good,” said Ford, as he checked his handiwork. “Now I just need to cover it with a bandage.”

“You’re not gonna kiss it better?” asked Stan.

“No,” said Ford, suppressing a laugh. “It just wouldn’t be sanitary.”

“Ah,” Stan replied, and if Ford didn’t know any better, he’d almost say Stan sounded… disappointed. “Well, alright.”

Ford took out the gauze and the medical tape from the first aid kit and said, “Um, I can kiss you, though.”

“What?”

“If you want me to,” Ford added. “Not… not on the lips, of course, but I can kiss you. Just—just say where.”

“Um.” Stan craned his neck towards Ford. “Are you serious?”

Ford grew oddly hot. “I mean, ah, touch has been known to lower the body’s stress levels, which can help with, with the healing process—That’s... why I suggested it.”

“Ah,” said Stan, turning his head away from Ford again. “So you’re just being a weirdo.”

Ford swallowed. “Stanley, I...”

Stan waved him off. “It’s fine. Just… bandage me up, man.”

There was no point in disobeying that, so Ford carefully positioned the gauze on Stan’s burn wound, then applied the tape to make it stick. “We’ll need to reapply the bandage every day until the burn fully heals,” he said when he was done.

“‘We,’” Stan repeated. He turned around to face Ford. “Does that mean I’m staying?”

It was strange, how shocking Ford found the question. “I guess so,” he answered, considering his words carefully. “At least, for now. But—Stanley, it’s not… safe, here.”

“Because of the portal.”

Ford nodded. “Not just that, but yes.”

Stan groaned and ran a hand through his hair. “So, when do I need to leave?”

Ford held up a hand. “Stanley...”

“No, no, it’s...” Stan starting pacing around the kitchen, gesturing wildly. “I mean, I know you don’t—well...”

Ford caught Stan by the chin. “Stanley, please, just—listen to me.”

“C’mon, Stanford, it’s fine,” said Stan, who still resisted meeting Ford’s eyes. He sounded like he was going to cry. “If you don’t want me around...”

That definitely wasn’t true, so Ford needed to prove it false. If he was any less sleep-deprived, he might have done something else. As it was, his brother’s chin still in his hands, he laid a kiss upon Stanley’s lips.

Stanley tasted of cheap cigarettes and stale coffee, but Ford didn’t mind, far more interested in the way Stan warmed up to the kiss, tense at first but soon kissing back, running his hands through Ford’s hair. It was the culmination of everything they had been dancing around for a long, long time.

“Thought you said you weren’t gonna do that,” Stan gasped out, once they broke away.

Ah, right. The offer he made from earlier. “Guess I lied,” Ford panted.

They drew in for another kiss, deeper, more passionate. It left them so breathless and panting that it took a while before either of them spoke again.

“So, why can’t I stay, for real?” asked Stan. “Because I know there’s something there.”

Damn. Stanley knew Ford all too well. “There’s… an entity, that takes control of my mind when I sleep. I don’t want it to harm you,” Ford admitted, as much as he was willing to admit.

“Is that why you’re so strung out?”

Ford nodded. “Mostly, yes.”

Stan grunted and lifted himself about the counter, sitting on the countertop. It would annoy Ford were he not so charmed at the moment. “Okay, so, is there like, a way we can get that—thing out of your head?”

“There is one way I know of.” Ford scrubbed his face and frowned. “But it involves dealing with creatures that I’ve found to be—quite frustrating, in the past.”

Stan looked at Ford expectantly. “Well?” he asked.

“You’re going to laugh,” Ford replied glumly.

“C’mon, just tell me!”

“Unicorns,” Ford answered.

Stan let out a loud guffaw, and for a moment Ford truly hated him. “What, ain’t they really fond of virgins?”

“Actually, no,” said Ford stiffly. “Though the requirements for dealing with them seem just as strict as in legend. And by the way, I’m not a virgin.”

Stan grinned. “Sure you’re n--”

“Would a virgin kiss you as well as I just did?” Ford replied smugly. He took a certain amount of pleasure in the shock on Stan’s face.

“Man, you really have changed,” said Stan. “Gone a long way since your ‘kissing machine’ days.”

Ford groaned. “Please don’t mention the kissing machine, Stanley.” He took the journal off the kitchen table and started flipping through the entries. “Anyway, if you’re really serious about this--”

“Of course I’m serious,” Stan retorted.

“I’ll warn you again, unicorns are not easy to deal with,” said Ford. He found the entry on unicorns in the journal and handed it to Stan. “Their standards for good behavior are very exacting. I doubt you’d be able to live up to them.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Stan grumbled. He seemed upset by Ford’s assertion. He always had carried a chip on his shoulder on being the lesser of the two Pines twins. “I’ll just kill one of them, so what?”

“Stanley...” Ford started.

“What, they need to be alive?”

“No, you’ll just need the hair from their manes,” answered Ford. “But killing a horse—or horse-like creature—can be harder than it looks.”

“Eh.” Stan shrugged. “I mean, I killed a llama once.”

Ford raised an eyebrow. “Lama-with-one-L or llama-with-two-Ls?” he asked.

“Llama as in the weird animal with the long hair,” Stan said with an eyeroll. “Cripes, you’re a nerd.”

“Technically, that could describe both--” Ford got a poke in the ribs. “Oof. But seriously, are you sure you want to do this?”

“I mean, if it’ll keep you safe,” said Stan. He looked down at his bare chest. “Though, uh, I’m gonna need some clothes that haven’t been singed.”

Ford looked Stanley over. He was still naked from the waist up, and though that was fine for an evening of making out, it was less than ideal for a night in the cold and snow.

“Hang on,” said Ford. “There are some sweaters in my room.” He dashed over there as quick as he could, unable to suppress the irrational worry that Stan would be gone by the time he got back. He fished through his drawers and found a bright and cheery Christmas sweater, a gift from Fiddleford when they were still in college. (Ford didn’t have the heart to tell him that he was Jewish and had never celebrated. It was good at its main purpose, at least, which was keeping warm.)

Back in the hallway, he was struck by the sudden realization that this was real, that he had really kissed his brother and his brother kissed him back. It was funny, how repressed they both had been about it, and how open they were now. He supposed it made a certain amount of sense—incest was a Rubicon that neither of them were prepared to cross, even as odd a pair as they had been, but once they set their mind on something, there was no doubt, if it were in any way possible, they would get it.

Once they put their mind on something, there was no doubt they would get it. Ford smiled at the thought, and hurried back to the kitchen. He found Stan sitting on a chair, a far more reasonable position than the counter. “Here,” he said, and handed Stan the gaudy sweater.

“Bit late to be wearing this,” said Stan, looking it over.

Ford shrugged. “If it keeps you warm.” He grabbed his coat from his chair. “Here, wear this, too. Do you still have your gloves and hat?”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Stan grumbled. “I’m not gonna freeze to death, Ford.” He grunted as he struggled to put on the sweater.

“Careful,” said Ford. He helped pull the sweater down. “You still need to look out for that shoulder.” He gave his brother a quick peck on the cheek.

“Heh heh.” Ford enjoyed the way Stan blushed. Stan cleared his throat. “Alright, so they live in this glade, right?” Stan said, as he put on the coat. “Shouldn’t take too long. I’ll be back in a jif.”

“Stay safe, Stanley.” Ford squeezed his brother’s hand. “Remember to come home in one piece.”

“I will,” Stan replied softly. He pat Ford on the shoulder, then pulled him into a brief kiss. “Take care of yourself while I’m gone, knucklehead.”

“Okay, okay,” Ford said with a soft laugh. He watched Stanley go out of the house and into the unknown, once again the brave hero of their youth. For the first time in a long while, he felt a deep, sustaining hope, one that would last him the rest of their lives.

#Stancest #I'm in the mood for sap okay so sue me #my drabblings

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thiswasinevitableid · 3 years

Note

For the mermay fills: 10 & 22 with indruck? 👁️👁️ (nsfw or sfw)

I went with ten (tattoos/piercings) first, since 22 will be part of another fill. I went with NSFW, and wrote this as a follow-up to my “Heat” fill from last year.

Indrid swims up and down the hall outside the palace infirmary. He’s far from the only one doing so; the reef serpent wreaked havoc through the city before the Chosen mers defeated it. He’s not even the only person waiting to see if Duck is alright.

“Have courage, Prince Indrid Cold!” Minerva, sporting a new gash on her face, clamps her hand down on his shoulder in what he knows is her version of a comforting gesture, “Duck Newton is the strongest Chosen after myself. He will pull through.” The blue of her tentacles flashes with pride.

“Besides” Ned, the castle mer who has, against all odds, become Indrid’s closest advisor, flicks his orange and silver tail “you informed us yourself there were no futures where our friend passed away.”

“I know.” Indrid takes a breath, intending to explain the tangled net of anxiety in his chest. All that comes out is another, “I know.”

Behind him, he hears two nurses murmuring that they’d better bump the prince’s consort up in the line, but before he can turn and order them not to, they’re gone.

It happened like this: Duck kept his word, began courting Indrid properly once the seer's heat passed, and Indrid reciprocated without hesitation. This caused a near scandal; yes, Duck was a Chosen and thus noble to a degree, but Indrid was a prince, and a prized one. Indrid pointed out that he rather liked someone who cared about his welfare, not just his happiness, and if they had an issue with that, that was their problem not his. And so the comments about Duck moved from to his face to behind his back, which he counted as good enough.

Duck found the whole consort business stressful, given that he’d forgone his Chosen destiny in favor of tending the kelp forests specifically to avoid that kind of fanfare and politics. Thus, they steered clear of the castle when they could, spending their time with their friends in town or in the sunken ship Duck called home.

When the serpent attacked their town, Duck discovered the limits of his rejecting his destiny, and joined the fight to save his home. Indrid is proud of him, even if his stomach churns whenever the futures shift and he has to see whether the strings of fate weave a grimmer outcome for the man he loves.

It’s well after moonrise when he’s allowed to see Duck. The other mer is half-asleep in his infirmary bed, a massive bandage on his side and one of his tentacles bitten down to a nub

“Hey darlin” The sleepy drawl is accompanied by the mer opening his arms.

Indrid carefully settles against the non-bandaged side of him, rests his head on his chest with a relieved sigh, “I’m so glad you’re alright. Or, well, mostly alright. You’re in one piece. Sort of. I, I’m not conveying this well.”

“I ain’t dead, given how today went I’m callin that a win. Besides, this’ll grow back in no time.” He wiggles the stub of his tentacle.

“Mmm” Indrid cuddles closer, purring softly as intact tentacles pet his tail and back.

“When’d you last sleep?” Duck murmurs, kissing the top of his head.

“Not since the attack started.”

“Seems to me we’re both due for some shut eye.”

Indrid nods, right before falling asleep and dreaming of strong tentacles and stronger arms.

-----------------------------------------

“Guess I gotta get a tattoo now.” Duck studies the scar on his side, his bandages having permanently come off this morning.

“I suppose so. Though, if you’ve avoided so many other parts of Chosen protocol, I fail to see how skipping this one will make things worse.”

“I dunno, I kinda like this one. Used to strike me as macho bullshit, showin off how many battle scars you got. But now...makes me think of how when the forest gets trashed by a storm, or a huge-ass monster tearin through it, there’s a certain kind of pleasure that comes from watchin it heal, watchin it go from desolated and scarred to somethin beautiful.”

Indrid loves when he talks like this, smiles dreamily as Duck adds, “you could even design it for me. I’d like that.”

“I could do you one better; I could apply it as well. And since I foresee you asking yes, I do have the training to do so. Royal mers learn to tattoo themselves, due to rules about being touched by lower ranking mers that I judiciously ignored.”

“No kiddin” Duck grins, two tentacles coiling around Indrid’s tail, teasing the red stripe, “now that I’m healed up, gonna do all kinds of things to you to remind you why you ignored those rules in the first place.”

------------------------------------------------------------------

“Are you nervous?” Indrid finishes setting out his tools on the pristine table in his pristine chambers. He tends towards messiness in his habits, but when it comes to Duck’s health he’s cleaned the whole place by hand and with magic. Twice.

“Nah, I know I’m in good hands.” Even as he says this, a burst of anxious yellow moves up his tentacles.

“All the same, if you need a break at any point, let me know. And if the scar starts stinging or throbbing, tell me at once.”

“You got it, darlin.”

Indrid takes his time using a spell to transfer his design to Duck’s skin, double checking the placement before picking up the charm-powered tattoo gun. When finished, the tattoo will be a small forest of kelp, with the scar making up most of the body of the serpent swimming between the leaves. Six shades of green ink, three shades of brown, one shade of copper, and black for outlining, lay on the table, Indrid dipping into each of them in turn as he brings the image to life.

“Love watchin you draw” Duck sighs, then shudders, “sorry, gettin a hell of an adrenaline rush from the pain.”

“Just try to stay still. If you twitch or fidget too much, it will cause mistakes on my end.”

“Do my best.”

“If you don’t, I’ll just have to tie you down.” Indrid says breezily. The tentacle near him pulses purple. Desire. Interesting.

He’s most of the way through when Duck’s arms shake, his tentacles following suit, occasionally bumping Indrid’s tail or sides.. They’re small movements, all things considered, but in most futures they mean he has to re-do the entire last third of the tattoo.

“Nono, this won’t do at all.” He set’s the gun down, flitting across to the closet near his bed. A sea-grass rope waits, right where he left. There hasn’t been much call for it, Duck capable of restraining Indrid in a variety of ways all on his own.

“Now” Indrid bites off several lengths of rope, “since you cannot be still, I am going to tie your tentacles down. You’re to keep your hands where I put them, or I will tie them as well.”

Ducks tentacles are now deep, unflinching purple, “Holy fuck, ‘drid.”

“Just because I am generally submissive around you does not mean I’m not capable of giving orders.” Indrid smirks, tying the first two tentacles down.

“I, I know, it’s just you, uh, you, you never talk like this.” Duck’s eyes are wide, excited even, as they track Indrid’s circular path.

“I suppose you don’t hear me during advisory meetings, so this is a new experience for you.”

“Maybe I oughta start sittin in on ‘em.” Duck whines when Indrid kisses his cheek but refuses to stick around long enough for Duck to kiss him back.

“Perhaps. Right now, however, you are to sit still until I’m done with you. Understood?”

“Uh huh.” Duck smiles, docile and sweet, and Indrid wonders why they never thought to try this before.

He returns to his work, inking colors into Duck’s skin, enjoying the intimacy of learning the familiar curves of his ribs and belly in new ways. At one point he notices Duck tensing and almost moving his hand, but the other mer catches it in time.

“Good boy.” Indrid purrs.

“Fuck.” Duck tips his head back, “how much longer?”

“About ten minutes more, I’d say. You can manage it my sweet, you’re doing so well already.”

Duck whimpers low in his throat as Indrid goes back to his work. Exactly ten minutes later, he puts a protective covering atop the tattoo and pushes his supply table aside.

“There, all done. You did wonderfully.”

“Great, now untie me.” Duck wriggles hopefully.

Indrid raises an eyebrow, “In a hurry, sweet one?”

“Yes” Duck holds out a hand, trying to coax him closer.

“Whatever for?” He replies airly, as if can’t sense the arousal pouring off his boyfriend in waves, “and stop moving so much, you’ll aggravate the tattoo.”

“‘Drid please” The folds between his front-most tentacles ripple as his cock starts emerging.

“Oh I see.” Indrid swims so they’re face to face, pinning Duck’s hands to the back of the chair as he leans into his space, “you want me to fuck you, is that it? You’re willing to risk pain to new scar tissue, even marring my lovingly done work, just to have your cock played with?”

“Holyfuckinshit, why is this the first time you’re talkin like this?” Duck bites his lip with a little moan as Indrid rubs their cheeks together.

“I don’t know. In hindsight, it seems so obvious; you’re my powerful, competent mate, you always take such wonderful care of me, but you want someone to take away that power from time to time, don’t you?”

“Yeah.” Duck tips his chin up, hoping for a kiss, but Indrid floats backwards out of reach,

“What shall we do about that, hmm?” He swims a slow, tight circle around the other mer, staying just out of arms reach, “shall I keep you bound until the urge passes? No, that’s far too cruel for my beloved. Perhaps I should make you see to it yourself? But no, you might accidentally hurt yourself. Hmmm, what to do, what to do….” He taps his chin as Duck growls and whines, tentacles now straining against their bonds. Indrid knows Duck could snap them easily if he needed or wanted to. Which means he wants to remain at Indrid’s mercy for the time being.

“You do look wonderful like this. I didn’t even plan it this way, but how I tied you shows off most of your assets.” Indrid rubs the upper front of his tail, “now you’re getting me all wound up.”

“Good” Duck growls, tentacles swirling purple and pink.

“Yes it, ahnnn, it is rather good, isn’t it. After all, I have the perfect solution to the situation sitting right in front of me.”

Duck’s cock is fully out, it and the slit beneath it tempting Indrid to abandon his plan. He swims in front of the other mer, eyeing his cock approvingly, “yes, you’ll do quite nicely.”

“Thank fuckOHfummmhp” Duck’s surprised moan turns to a laugh as Indrid, having zipped upwards in a flash, finishes shoving his cock into Duck’s mouth.”

“Yesss, ohyes, goodness I love doing this, you look so charming with your lips around my cock. Ah, ah, don’t you dare move your hands from the chair. This” he gives a sharper thrust, “is all I need to be satisfied.”

Duck moans louder, which Indrid takes as his cue to hold his head in place and fuck into his mouth with abandon.

“That’s it love, that’s it, oh I ought to have done this months ago, tied my big strong hero down and reminded him of hisAHAnnn, his duties as consort.”

“‘M ot a ero.”

Indrid looks imperiously down his nose at him, “It’s rude to contradict someone when they’re giving you what you want, my sweet. I guess I’ll need to render you further incapable of speech” He concentrates and extends his cock, a mechanism meant to ensure he can reproduce with mers of any size or genital configuration but that he uses only to make Duck groan with pleasure.

His orgasm is already racing towards him, as it always does when Duck lets him (or orders him to) fuck his throat, and he shuts his eyes, concentrating on tight heat and the happy, muffled grunts floating up to his ears.

“Just a little, nnnn, little more my sweet, let your prince ravish your throat a little longerOH, ohgods, Duck, sweetheart, yes.” He cums, a shudder rippling down his tail, and doesn’t pull out until Duck struggles to swallow the rest down. The other mer is still collecting his breath when Indrid wiggles down and pushes his tongue into his slit.

“Fuck!” Duck jerks hard enough to move the chair an inch to the right.

Indrid snickers, wraps both hands around Duck’s cock, stroking it hurriedly as he raises his head, “What do you say, beloved?”

“Th-thank you?” Duck cracks an eye open. Indrid nods, then dips his head back down to to suck and tongue at the senstive skin.

“Fuckme, ohfuck, ‘Drid, darlin’, this is fuckin incredible, gonna, gonna be such a good consort, do whatever you say, fuck you five fuckin times a day, just, FUCK, just promise we can do this again.”

“Muv ourse.” Indrid thrusts his tongue deeper, twisting his hands on his upstrokes. The fourth time he does, he pops up to suck on the head just in time to catch Duck’s cum in his mouth. He takes his time, sucking him clean with happy trills and moans while his boyfriend utters curses that would make sailors blush.

He pulls away to wipe his mouth, intending to start untying Duck. The futures show that won’t be necessary,

Snapsnapsnapsnap

The ropes break in pairs, rapid fire, and then Duck is on him, enveloping him in arms, tentacles, and love. He tries to press closer, then winces back, “owfuck, you’re right, the tattoo is real sore.”

“It’ll be that way for a few days. Your Chosen strength will help, but you should still rest when possible.”

“I dunno” Duck kisses him sweetly, then nips his lower lip, “you know how stubborn I can be. Might have to uh, tie me to the bed.”

“That, my love, can be arranged.”

#indruck #indrid cold/duck newton #mermay fills #mermay

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cg-eraserhead · 4 years

Text

Kisses for Skinned Knees

Words: 2780

Hizashi skins his knee, and suddenly Shouta has a toddler on his hands. Thankfully, he's used to this, and cartoons and cuddles are in order.

(I’ve never posted fic on Tumblr before, so please let me know if I’m doing it wrong!)

Shouta stands panting after the end of the battle, his capture weapon still clutched in his hands. In the stillness, he’s now aware of sweat slipping down his back under his loose uniform, warm in the oppressive summer heat. He doesn’t smile, but he feels the bone-deep satisfaction of having done a good job. They won, him and Hizashi. All the villains are tied up and sitting on the ground. Nobody was injured, neither of the heroes or any of the bystanders, and even the villains were captured with little more than minor bruises.

At least, he thinks nobody was injured until he looks over at Hizashi, who is on the ground.

His heart clenches, but he doesn’t move right away, just calling out, “Mic? Are you alright?”

He gets a little more worried when the answer doesn’t come right away. But it does: “Y-yeah. Just tripped and skinned my knee!” Hizashi is climbing to his feet.

Still, Shouta walks over to him. “Are you sure?” Hizashi’s voice was high and wavering.

Hizashi doesn’t answer. There’s something about the way he pushes his glasses up to rub at his eyes with his fists.

“I’m f-fine,” Hizashi says, quietly, the hitch in his voice becoming more obvious.

Shouta suddenly catches on to what must be going on, and he lowers his voice, making it soft. “Does it hurt a little?” he asks, putting a slight emphasis on the last word.

Hizashi pauses, and when he looks at Shouta, it’s with wide eyes. “Y-yeah,” he confirms, his head bouncing as he nods quickly.

“It’ll be okay,” Shouta says, his voice going warm and gentle. He puts a hand on Hizashi’s shoulder. “Can you go sit on the curb away from everyone?” The sirens that have been approaching for a while now are getting louder, the police almost here. “I need to talk to the police, and then I’ll come take care of you.”

Hizashi nods, more slowly now. “Okay,” he says, voice going slightly clumsy and mumbled.

“Good,” Shouta says, still quiet, giving Hizashi’s shoulder a pat.

He tries to make his report of the situation as quick as he can, wanting to get back to Hizashi.

In a few minutes, it’s over and they’re cleared to go home. Shouta hurries back over to the figure hunched on the curb. “How are you doing?”

Hizashi is rocking slightly, his knees drawn up to his chest and his arms around them. “Still hurts,” he mumbles.

“Okay,” Shouta says, kneeling next to him. “Can you show me, baby?” The petname is a little risky, but that’s why he wanted Hizashi a ways away from everyone else.

Hizashi sniffles a little as he rolls up his pant leg with clumsy fingers. When he reveals a red scrape on his knee, he lets out a small gasp. The sting was one thing, but seeing the little red scrape is another.

“Shh, it’s okay,” Shouta reassures quickly, reaching out to rub the uninjured part of his leg comfortingly. He looks down to quickly rummage in one of his belt pouches. “I’ll put a band-aid on it.”

“’Kay,” Hizashi says, his lip wobbling.

“We have to clean it, first. Can you be brave for a minute?” Shouta pulls out a piece of gauze and a small water bottle. He wets the gauze.

Hizashi stiffens when he gently wipes the blood away, and again when Shouta gently applies a smear of antibiotic ointment, but he doesn’t make a noise.

Shouta pats him again and smiles. “Such a brave little hero.”

He gets a smile in return, even if it’s a little watery.

“Now for the band-aid,” Shouta narrates. It’s a little worrying that Hizashi isn’t talking more. Either he’s in more pain than he should be, or he’s much younger than usual.

He pipes up when Shouta unwraps the band-aid, though. “It’s not the one with birdies.”

Shouta looks at it. “No, this one has cats.” It’s got pink and yellow stripes with blue cats.

For a moment, Hizashi frowns, his face scrunched up. “Why didn’t you get the ones with birdies?” For a moment, Shouta thinks he’s going to have a fit thrown by what he’s pretty sure now is a toddler, but then Hizashi smiles, wide and pleased. “Oh! Because you like kitties!”

“Yes, I do,” Shouta agrees, taking advantage of the distraction to peel off the paper and carefully spread the bandage over Hizashi’s tiny injury.

“They’re your favorite,” Hizashi asserts confidently. He looks down at his knee, smiling again. “Now my knee is your favorite. I like being your favorite.”

“You’re always my favorite,” Shouta says, leaning forward to kiss Hizashi’s forehead. Hizashi giggles, and Shouta stands up. “Now, can you walk on your own?”

“Think so,” Hizashi mumbles. Instead of getting up on his own, he reaches up both arms.

Shouta obligingly grabs his hands and pulls him to his feet. Hizashi doesn’t let go once he’s standing up. He still doesn’t look like his usual cheerful self, a pout pushing out his bottom lip.

“What’s wrong?” There has to be some reason for Hizashi to have regressed like this. Just skinning his knee shouldn’t have done it.

Hizashi looks like he’s going to cry again, his lip wobbling. “Don’t know,” he mumbles.

Okay, so he’s too young to effectively figure out what’s bothering him. Shouta thinks about how he feels himself. “Are you too hot?”

Hizashi nods. “Too hot,” he echoes.

Shouta carefully frees his hands from Hizashi’s grasp. “Let’s get your jacket off, then. First we need to get your speaker off. Turn around for me.”

Hizashi obediently turns around and lets Shouta unbuckle his heavy directional speaker from his neck. From the happy sigh that gets, it was one of the things that was bothering him.

Shouta puts it on the ground. “Turn towards me.”

When Hizashi does, sticking out his arms, Shouta unzips his thick leather jacket, pulling it off one arm and then the other. The shirt underneath is even sweatier than Shouta’s is. “Now you should be able to cool down. What else is bothering you? Are you tired?” It’s the day after Hizashi’s radio show, so he probably didn’t get much sleep last night.

“Tired,” Hizashi whines, then pauses. “Not sleepy.”

Shouta blinks, surprised. “Good job. That’s a subtle distinction. Good job, telling the difference.”

Hizashi smiles. “And head hurts,” he declares, running on the momentum from his last deduction.

Shouta nods. “Okay, that would do it. You’re hot and tired and your head hurts, and then you got hurt. Plus you’ve been way too stressed lately.” He holds out one of his hands, and Hizashi wraps his hand around a few of his fingers. “We made it so you shouldn’t be so hot, but we’ll have to go home to deal with the other two.” Shouta takes a second, but he makes an executive decision. “We’re not taking the train home. I’ll call us a cab.” That way Hizashi doesn’t have to walk to the station or be around all the noise and people on the train.

While they wait, Shouta pulls out his phone and connects it to the headphones Hizashi is still wearing, turning the volume down low and opening an app to play cartoons. He hands it to Hizashi, who grabs it quickly and sits down, still holding Shouta’s fingers in one hand.

Soon, the cab arrives, and Shouta can pull Hizashi to his feet again. The cartoons entertain him all the way home, the headphones also helping block out the noise of traffic going by.

Finally, they’re home. Shouta leads Hizashi over to the couch before hanging up the directional speaker and jacket he had been carrying. Then he unwinds his own capture weapon, hanging that up too. He takes off his shoes.

“I’ll be right back, sweetheart,” he says before padding into the bathroom. He rummages in the cabinet before finding what he wants, coming back out to the living room with it. “Here, some medicine for your head.”

Hizashi stabs the button to pause the video. He looks up, suspicion crinkling his face. “What does it tastes like?”

Shouta looks at the label. “Yummy Orange Flavor,” he reads.

Hizashi tosses the phone aside, but thankfully it lands on the couch beside him. Even if it hadn’t, its case is one that protects it against fights with villains and being dropped off of buildings, so it’s safe from one careless toddler.

Hizashi’s look of suspicion deepens into disbelief, and he crosses his arms. “No. It’s gross.”

Shouta sighs. “I know it doesn’t taste the best, but if you’re too young to take pills, it’s going to have to be this.” He puts the medicine down on the coffee table, heading into the kitchen. “I’ll get you some juice to have right after.”

He comes back with a sippy cup full of apple juice, setting it down on the table next to the medicine, sweetening the deal. Not giving Hizashi any more room to argue, he pours out the dose of medicine. It’s made for people much smaller than Hizashi, so the cup he’s using is bigger than the one it came with. It still might not be as strong as a pill, but it should do something.

Hizashi’s face scrunches once more before relenting. “’Kay,” he says, reaching forward to take the cup of medicine. He looks at it for a moment, smelling it and making a face.

“Don’t do that,” Shouta chides, starting to get slightly exasperated. “Don’t think about it, just drink it.”

Hizashi sends a pout his way, but he does raise the cup to his lips and gulp it down. When he’s done, he makes a face and quickly reaches for the cup of juice, drinking as quickly as the spout will let him.

“Good job,” Shouta says, sighing with relief that this wasn’t any harder. He picks up the little cup and medicine, returning it to the bathroom cabinet after rinsing the cup.

When he comes back, Hizashi has the sippy cup tilted high, draining the last little bit of it. “Now we have to brush your teeth after all that sugar,” Shouta says. “But you probably need a bath, first. To wash out your hair, if nothing else.”

Hizashi plunks the cup down. “Don’t want to take a shower,” he declares.

Shouta holds back a sigh. “You can be kind of a brat when you’re tired, you know that?” he asks rhetorically. “I didn’t say shower. I said bath. You can have bubbles and toys, but you need to get clean too.”

Hizashi looks like he’s considering it. “And song?”

Shouta nods. “Sure, we can sing a song.”

“’Kay,” Hizashi agrees, getting up from the couch and following Shouta to the bathroom.

He’s fine for a little while, just fidgeting a bit as Shouta runs the water (warm, but not too warm—the air conditioning isn’t strong enough to keep it from being warm even inside). He even starts to sing under his breath, making Shouta smile to himself. He gasps and leans forward when the bubble bath that Shouta adds foams up, sticking a hand into the bubbly mass.

But another problem comes when Shouta starts to undress him. His shirt comes off with no problem, even if Shouta has to stand on his tiptoes to get it over the arms Hizashi sticks in the air. Sometimes it’s unfortunate that his body stays the same size, whatever age his mind is.

When he steps out of his pants, though, he sees the colorful bandage, and he frowns. “The kitty will come off.”

“Yes, but that’s okay. It was just a little scrape, it’s not still bleeding. The bathwater might sting a little, but just for a little bit.”

“The kitty will come off,” Hizashi repeats, his face starting to scrunch up again.

“I’ll get you another one after your bath,” Shouta says patiently. “We have more here. You can have one with a bird this time.”

“No!” Hizashi says, shaking his head rapidly.

“No what? You don’t really need another band-aid. Only if you want one.” When Hizashi just shakes his head again, more emphatically this time, Shouta prompts, “Use your words, please.”

“No birdie!”

“Okay? You can have whatever one you want. We’ve got lots to pick from.”

“Wanna kitty! So can be favorite!”

Shouta lets out a small laugh. “I told you, you’re my always my favorite. But sure, you can have a cat band-aid again.” He switches tones, his voice going more serious. “Now get in the bath.”

Hizashi does. He swooshes his hands through the water, piling the bubbles up and then smacking a hand down in the middle of the spire to make the bubbles fly everywhere. Shouta joins him for a minute, reaching behind him to gather all the bubbles in the bath into one giant mountain.

When that one has been slapped and scattered, Shouta says, “Okay, now lean back so I can wash your hair.” Hizashi scoots forward and tips his head back, and Shouta picks up a big plastic pitcher, dunking it in the bath to fill it with warm water. He pours it over Hizashi’s big tower of hair, making it collapse a little. He does it over and over, until Hizashi’s long blond hair is all wet and down, sticking to his neck and back.

Then he gets the shampoo, squirting it onto his hands. He works it into Hizashi’s hair, digging his fingers into his scalp gently to try to help soothe away his headache.

“You’re being quiet,” he comments softly as he works.

“Little sleepy now,” Hizashi slurs.

Shouta chuckles. “You sound like it. After your bath, it’ll be time for bed.” He thinks Hizashi might fall asleep on him as he combs conditioner into his hair, but instead, he starts humming. “You were going to sing me a song,” Shouta reminds him so he doesn’t pass out entirely.

Hizashi wiggles a little, waking himself up. “Oh yeah,” he yawns. “What song?”

“Hm. What about the frog song?” Shouta reaches into the basket next to the bathtub, pulling out a plastic frog. He swims it through the water to bump against Hizashi’s hand, who grabs it with a giggle.

“Okay!” He starts to sing, his voice a little slow.

“Kaeru no uta ga,

Kikoete kuru yo,

Gwa, gwa, gwa, gwa,

Gero gero gero gero,

Gwa, gwa, gwa.”

Shouta smiles. Despite his musical career, Hizashi doesn’t sing to just anyone. It’s something only people close to him get to hear. Shouta has always thought he has a nice singing voice, and it’s cute to hear him sing a kid’s song.

When he starts the song over again, Shouta grabs a washcloth and wets it, pumping sweet-smelling soap onto it. He gently rubs the cloth across his skin, starting with his shoulders.

By the time he’s done singing, Hizashi is clean. Shouta grabs the pitcher again, washing out the conditioner and rinsing off the soap.

He stands up, grabbing their softest, fluffiest towel. “Okay, out of the bath.” He towels him dry, starting at the top of his head and working down to the bottoms of his feet. At this point, Hizashi is swaying on his feet, and he yawns again.

Shouta hunts in the cabinet again, finding the right box of bandages. He kneels to put on Hizashi’s knee, pressing a kiss to the plastic when he’s done. “There. It’ll be all better by tomorrow.”

“Yay,” Hizashi mumbles, hugging the fluffy towel around himself.

“Pajama time,” Shouta declares. He leads the sleepy Hizashi into the bedroom, picking out a big, soft shirt and dinosaur-print boxers. Hizashi steps into them, compliant now.

“Just need to brush your teeth, then you can get into bed,” he says. Hizashi whines, rubbing at his eyes again. “Come on, sweetheart.”

Hizashi sleepily pads back into the bathroom, and Shouta hands him his toothbrush, getting the fruity toothpaste out of the cabinet for him.

He’s a little clumsy getting the toothpaste onto the brush, but that might just be how tired he is. He seems to do alright brushing his own teeth. Shouta picks up his own brush.

Finally, they’re both ready for bed. Shouta strips down to his underwear, turning off the lights and pulling back the covers. Hizashi collapses into bed, curling up on his side. Shouta pulls the thin blanket over him.

The second he lays down himself, Hizashi squirms over to attach to his side, cuddling up to him. Shouta smiles. “Goodnight, baby.”

Hizashi doesn’t say anything, just makes a low happy noise and rubs his face against Shouta’s arm.

Soon, they’re both asleep.

(Here’s an English translation for the song Hizashi sings!

The frog’s song,

Come hear it,

Croak, croak, croak, croak,

Ribbit, ribbit, ribbit, ribbit,

Croak, croak, croak.)

Please tell me what you thought!

#Age Regression fic #bnha #bnha agere #fandom agere #Age Regression #cglre #sfw age regression #sfw cglre #Aizawa #Present Mic

68 notes · View notes

sapphire374 · 3 years

Text

A Pleasant but Spontaneous Encounter

"I know we're supposed to be just roommates but you just look too damn cute in the morning and now I can't seem to get you out of my mind."

Wattpad Link

Nina strongly grasped the paper that had written her room number for the year. Even Though, she arrived early meaning she had yet to find out who she was rooming with. Her nerves were truly at its peak when she discovered while walking into campus that the council decided to pair the girls rooms with the boys rooms. Boys… in the same dorm hallway. She already felt scared starting the new year at Oxford but now she feels uncomfortable knowing there was going to be adult males too. She wondered “what if it’s the guys who host those massive overnight parties. How on earth would I be able to study if people next door are partying all night long.” Nina had jumped into a spiral of thoughts by just overthinking everything.

Once she arrived at her room she had the pleasure of choosing which bed she wanted since her roommate hadn’t arrived yet. She unclasped her luggage after setting it on top of the trunk and began to store her belongings in drawers, shelves and any other kind of available space in her side of the room.

Knock-knock. Nina heard as she was hanging up her shirts in the closet. Must be her new roommate. “I’m coming,” Nina hurried as she went to the door. She’s been waiting, wanting to anxiously know who she was going to spend all year with. She grasped the door knob, turned it, and opened the door to a revealing surprise. “Gaston?!”

Both, Gaston and Nina stood there in shock looking at one another. “Nina!… Well it’s nice to see you again but how were you able to find my room and enter it. Don’t get me wrong it’s a pleasure to see you again but this feels a little creepy even though I know I’m hard to forget.”

Nina let out a small frown at his words and replied with “Gaston you really think I would do something like that. I don’t know if this is another one of your jokes but this is my room. Even though they have combined girl rooms with boy rooms in the same hallway doesn’t mean they get to share the same rooms. Girls with girls, boys with boys.”

Gaston scratches his head and glances at his paper again. “But Nina this is my room, 2774.”

Nina walks to her dresser, grabs her yellow slip and reads out loud “2774, how odd that’s the same number I got. We need to go speak to the director, this must be a mistake.”

Gaston is now smirking in front of Nina while she wears a questionable look towards his expressions. “Maybe we don’t have to fix this mistake. Maybe we can stay roommates and catch up on what we’ve missed. Maybe this is fate that has brought us here Nina.”

Nina now choking on her words says, “No no no Gaston, we can’t. We would get in big trouble if I don’t say anything about this and I cannot get in trouble on my first day already. Plus it would seem fishy if they saw a boy in a year after me in the same dorm room as I am. We can always hang out and even catch up outside of the dorm but I don’t want to get in trouble.”

Gaston now making a sullen look replies with “You’re right. We should go.”

“Sorry if I seem like a buzzkill. I’m happy we met but I wasn’t expecting it to be like this.”

“Yeah me neither.”

~~~

“What do you mean we’re going to be roommates for the week. Isn’t that against the rules?” Gaston asked. “Yes it is but we’ve already implemented a system for the roommates which means all of the other rooms are taken. We’re now going to have to wait for when a spot opens up. My deepest apologies for the whole mixup by the way. Don’t worry too much though, this problem should be fixed by the end of the week,” the dean of the campus reassured them. But what if Gaston didn’t want the issue to be fixed anytime soon, what if he does want to be Nina’s roommate. Gaston’s already imagining all of the possibilities of him being able to rekindle his romance with Nina.

Wait a second. A doubt, a fearful thought entered his brain and now it can’t get out. What if Nina is still with Eric? Could that be why she didn’t want to be his roommate, could that be why she tried to brush him off and didn’t seem so excited to see him at her doorstep. Heck she didn’t even give him a hug.

Throughout the whole meeting he couldn’t help but stare at Nina a few times. Oh how he missed her so much. The way she shuffled her feet when the room was quiet, the way how she tightly held her book in her hand whenever she was nervous, and the way how she barely spoke in conversations, overthinking what to say next.

Seeing her reaction to the news was a scary delight to see. Gaston saw Nina’s face easily turn red when she glanced at Gaston for a few seconds. Did she hate the idea of rooming with Gaston because she doesn’t like him anymore? Gaston would just love to be a mind reader right now.

They both got up from their chairs and left the office. “So I guess I have to unpack my bags…. In our room,” Gaston breaking the five minute long silence whilst scratching his head in the awkward environment.

“I guess so. I will say though that I call dibs on an extra drawer just so I can have space for my books.”

Gaston couldn’t help but chuckle at Nina’s statement, at how Nina hasn’t changed who she was.

“Gaston it’s not funny, you know I like to keep my books organized into different categories. Ones I haven’t read, ones I want to reread, and ones I’ve already finished but not planning to reread them anytime soon.” Nina couldn't help but giggle as well. Now Nina and Gaston were both giggling.

~~~

All day Nina tried avoiding Gaston. When she was in the library, she tried to fixate her focus into her textbooks and ignore the not so subtle glances Gaston would throw. Oh how she wishes she can have long conversations and tell him exactly how she feels, but that’s the thing she can’t. Whenever she just thinks of the idea, she chokes. Chokes and not a single word can come out afterward. She thought she has finally grown to be more confident and speak to others but with Gaston around, all of the development feels like it never happened. Before she used to feel very comfortable talking to him and now it feels like the first day she met him, scary and nerve-wracking.

While he wasn’t looking, she couldn’t help but stare and wonder how lucky fate has been to her this very moment. She finally got to see him like she has always hoped. Deep down inside, she’s never stopped loving Gaston no matter what. Just about five months ago, she finalized her decision to break up with Eric. She told him the truth, how she’s still not over Gaston. She thought she had feelings for Eric and she did but only as a friend. She pushed herself to date him thinking it would erase the pain she would feel thinking she would never see Gaston again but not even a sliver of that feeling went away.

Now she’s here. Sitting in a vintage, brown chair while reading her newest textbook in the dull lighting of this library. Great, now she can’t stop thinking about him and has lost all concentration in her homework. She puts her hand on her face in frustration. “Why do you have to take over mind Gaston,” she thinks to herself. Honestly, when she applied to Oxford she wasn’t expecting her first encounter with Gaston to be like this. She assumed she would have some time to put herself together and have the guts to have an actual conversation with him. But instead she barely spoke to him today as if she wanted to ignore him and even gave out signs of being uptight. That’s the thing though, she isn’t like that at all. Her shyness and the spontaneous encounter of him took her by surprise. While already having first day of university stress, she now has past love stress.

She wonders what he must be thinking now. “Does he hate me? Does he not love me anymore? Am I everything he wasn’t expecting me to be? Does he want to be friends? Does he want to be more than just friends? Is he even single” She face palms herself again and is getting really annoyed now at her overthinking and spiral of thoughts getting out of control.

Gaston notices at the other end of the library Nina’s frustration. Automatically he’s worried and is about to step out of his chair till another doubt reaches his mind. “Wait maybe this isn’t a good idea. I don’t want to force her to like me again or seem clingy,” he assumes. He sits back down onto his chair.

A group of guys head over to Gaston. Only one of them seems to be carrying books in their hand while the others are carrying backpacks.

“Hey Gaston. Have you heard of the party that Sara is hosting today. It’s going to be sick,” the guy with the letterman jacket said.

“That seems nice,” Gaston replied

“Are you coming? I heard a lot of people are going to be there.”

“No, I don’t think I’ll go today. It’s the first day and I don’t want to ruin my already messed up sleeping schedule.”

“Oh but c’mon it’ll be the first one of the year. You can’t just miss the first one. Plus I heard a lot of girls will be there too,” the guy then gave Gaston a wink after this statement.

Gaston then looks over to Nina. She immediately dropped her head down to her books. He noticed and couldn’t help but fall in love at how that reminds him of the looks they would share to each other when they were at the Jam and Roller together.

“Sorry but I can’t today, maybe some other time,” Gaston stated.

“Ok, your loss dude.” The group of guys then headed straight out the door.

Nina grew a little worried. She liked knowing now that he is single but she wonders whether he even wants to be with her again. All day it has felt like a battle of who can ignore each other better. She picks up her textbooks, slides them into her open backpack, zips it, and gets out of her chair to leave the library. She can’t concentrate having Gaston very far but also very close to her in one large room.

When Nina heads straight to the door, Gaston does too. He runs over her and says, “No, Nina, wait.” She turns over. Now Gaston is tongue tied and didn’t think through exactly what he was going to say to her. “Uhh… see you later..” Nina waves a bye to him back and leaves with a confused look on her face. Gaston can’t help but feel stupid, creating a huge fuss all to just tell her in the end “see you later.”

Gaston hurriedly grabs his backpack and exits the building too. He thinks of the best idea he possibly can at a time like this, and that’s to call Matteo. He takes his phone out of his pocket, types the name and places it near his ear. “Hi Gaston. I wasn’t expecting you to call me today. What’s the matter?” Matteo asks.

“Nina is here. I’m happy that she is but everytime I try to talk to her I forget the words and how to speak.”

Matteo laughs on the other end. “Oh wow no hi Matteo. Good afternoon to you too.Well anyways, you both truly are made for each other. Just be honest with her, plus she probably feels the same way you do.”

“I have tried but I don’t know what to say. I don’t want to come on strong but I don’t want to sound annoying either.”

“You’re overthinking this too much, this is Nina we’re talking here. She already knows you and wouldn’t think of you like that.”

Gaston thought about it for a second and answered, “Yeah I guess but we hadn’t seen each other in a long time and things can change you know.”

“True but from what I’ve seen the last time I met her she’s still the same Nina you fell in love with before. Maybe this time less afraid to speak her mind, cause of what happened with Gary.”

“Tonight I shall try to talk to her. Maybe we can start out being friends and go from there. I just really miss her laugh, our conversations together, and her smile. This whole day I’ve barely seen her smile. I miss it.”

“That’s a good start. Don’t forget to tell me how it goes ok. Good luck hermano.”

“Bye Matteo. Don’t worry I will.”

~~~

It was 9pm and Nina was already in her pajamas sitting all cozy in her bed while reading a book. Today she was wearing a black and beige nightgown. Gaston had just gotten out of the bathroom from brushing his teeth. He headed towards his bed as well whilst stealing glances towards Nina. He went under the covers and positioned his pillow to fall asleep. Before he laid down, he decided to tell Nina something. He would try to have the conversation he told Matteo about but sadly he can’t seem to think of anything to say. Nonetheless the convo ended quickly and barely went out as planned. “Goodnight Nina. Uh I hope you had a nice day today.”

Nina took her focus away from her book and said, “Yes I did. Thanks for asking. How did your day go?”

“It went decent I guess.”

“That’s nice. Goodnight to you too.”

Gaston then tried to fall asleep. Nina held her book but hasn’t read a sentence after their short lived conversation. She stared at the way Gaston slept. It was so peaceful, as if all the stars were aligned with each other. A portrait she would never want to forget. “What am I thinking. I still can't be in love with Gaston. He barely notices me or even talks to me. I have to forget about him,” Nina overthinks again. She places her book on top of her nightstand with her glasses and tries to fall asleep through the night.

After two hours have passed, Nina seems to be having a nightmare. She tosses and turns consistently in her bed. Gaston slowly opens his eyes. The noise of the sheets moving rapidly woke him up. He sees Nina scared with almost tears in her eyes. He rushes over to Nina and gently wakes her up sitting at the side of her bed. “Nina it’s ok, it’s ok I’m here.” Nina’s eyes begin to flutter and she uncontrollably takes a hold of Gaston’s hand. An electric shock rushed over both of their spines. They touched.

“It’s ok Nina. You were having a bad dream. You’re going to be fine. I’m here and I’m not going to leave ok.” Gaston’s voice of reassurance made Nina feel much better. They couldn’t stop looking into each other’s eyes. She breaks the stare by rushing into a hug. He softly strokes his hand on her back. She then lays her head on his shoulders.

“Look Nina there’s something I need to tell you.”

Nina breaks out of his warm embrace. “Gaston there’s something I still need to tell you too.”

“I’ve missed you so much Nina. More than you can possibly think. I thought us breaking up would be the best so that you wouldn’t feel tied to me and have to suffer having a boyfriend who was far away and can rarely visit. Also, especially with starting out school and having to frequently study, barely having time for you, which was not what you deserved, I thought at the time it was the right decision to make.”

“Gaston I’ve missed you so much too. More than you could think of. I remember there were even days where I cried just looking at a trinket from our past. Like that book you lent me that was your favorite. It has all of the notes of the lines that you said reminded you of me. I even take it everywhere I go no matter what. I was so hurt from the breakup, I thought dating somebody else would help erase the pain and make me even forget about it. Not about us since I will always remember you but make me feel better. In the beginning it did till I realized that the relationship I had with you could never be recreated with some other guy. And when I noticed my feelings for you were still existent and even stronger I knew I had to break up with him. I wasn’t ready to have another boyfriend yet.”

Gaston couldn’t help but smile at the fact that Nina is single…. And still potentially loves him. “Nina I still till this day have feelings for you. Whenever I felt stressed or depressed I would always look back into your Felicity account and read your posts. They always gave me that extra dose of strength I needed for the day. I always kept track of whenever you posted for Amigos De Patin. Reading your incredible entries made me feel so lucky to have met you and have had a wonderful girlfriend like you. I always carry around with me too that red bracelet that kept us united like the sea. Remember that ribbon I sent you and how I told you it reminded me of us being like the sea. How far we may be but someday it’s waves will meet up again. How our love lives in the ocean. I never got rid of it. I always wear it on my wrist.”

Nina cupped her mouth with shock. “Gaston I do too. I still keep that ribbon and take it everywhere I go. In fact I keep it in a special place.” She grabs her book off her nightstand and takes out a bookmark. In the clear plastic is the red ribbon. “I always take it with me wherever I go too.”

“Nina don’t you get it. This is maybe destiny. Like the poem of the sea how someday we would meet up again if our love is meant to be. Nina I never stopped loving you.”

Nina then had a tear slide down her cheek. “Gaston I never stopped loving you too.”

Gaston wipes the tear off Nina’s face and has his lips meet with hers. He caressed her cheek while she held his arms. This felt surreal to the both of them. They couldn’t believe they got to meet each other again. Their love was held by the big body of water between them and chose now to bring them back together. Gaston and Nina knew deep down inside that they were meant to be.

#soy luna #soy luna fanfic #soy luna fic week #soy luna ficweek #soy luna fic #gastina #sl nina #sl gastina #nina simonetti #Gaston perida #a pleasant but spontaneous encounter #gastina fanfic #soy luna wattpad #sl Wattpad #soy luna one shot #soy luna one shots

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escxpedes · 4 years

Text

loopholes (cont.)

I literally can’t even begin to tell you how much everyone’s support meant to me on the last chapter. All your comments and tags were so sweet, it was seriously the highlight of my day. I’m sorry for the delay, I meant to get this out a couple of days ago, but I’ve come down with a bad cold. This part, while fun, was so hard to get right. Angus Macgyver is a genius, his mind goes a mile a minute, and I wanted to do my best to replicate that. This part is a little slow in getting to the Macriley stuff, but I wanted to show how much he really thinks about things. He’s such a complex character, that if I didn’t do him justice, I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself. Also, there’s dialogue in this one! Sadly, Jack isn’t mentioned in this chapter, but he’s there in spirit. Clearly, we all love and miss him. I hope you guys enjoy, the last part will be out soon! x

loop·hole

noun | A loophole is an ambiguity or inadequacy in a system, such as a law or security, which can be used to circumvent or otherwise avoid the purpose, implied or explicitly stated, of the system

Riley finally moves into her new apartment, but struggles to adjust after the events of Codex and the realization of her feelings for Mac. When Mac finds her passed out over her keyboard after a late night of coding at Phoenix, he decides a talk is long overdue. Just some slightly angsty soft!macriley to help you cope with this season 5 hiatus.

of lips that i am yet to kiss (and eyes not met my own.)

It's highly unlikely that you'll find Mac walking down the halls of the Phoenix Foundation so late at night. Without the bustling energy of his coworkers fetching important documents or discussing the best way to break down one of the many mysteries the foundation deals with, the darkened hallways and quiet atmosphere can be unnerving.

Sure, he spends nearly every waking hour employed there, but he'd rather be outside the office in different countries, doing hands-on work and saving lives. When you work in his profession, It can be difficult to separate business and pleasure, but that only makes it more important—if only to conserve what mental health he has left.

However, in the haste of putting together last-minute preparations for yet another meeting with the Department of Justice and trying to make it back to his house in time for something Desi whipped up, he managed to forget his cellphone.

It's funny, mainly because of how little the small device truly matters to Mac.

It only goes to show how insignificant material objects, or even human beings in general, are. The idea that something so meaningless can affect someone's life so much when, if they just looked past that obsession and considered its part in the profound scope of the universe, another perspective would take shape.

It's fascinating stuff, really.

There's a concept essential to understanding Japanese aesthetics, otherwise known as an ancient set of ideals important to Japanese society, called Yūgen. When applied in the right context, Yūgen underlines this deep awareness of the universe and the experiences we have within it. It's often the feeling interpreted when you gaze at the stars late at night or watch the sunset dip behind a hill.

Mac wouldn't think twice before breaking his phone, or rather, breaking the phone of his nearest friend, open for an obscure part that might make one of his many homemade devices come together. However, when he's the only person able to communicate the scientific specifications of an unheard-of-until-recently base plan for saving the planet, he's practically on call 24/7.

He remembers having it in the labs earlier that day when he stopped by before his meeting to remind Bozer to come by his house on Friday for the team's new weekly attempt in group-bonding.

After the betrayals that surfaced during the climax of taking down Codex, the team collectively decided to spend more time as a group in hopes of eliminating any lingering doubts.

They used to hang out all the time before the government dismantled the Phoenix Foundation.

Mac still can't believe that, after everything they had been through, he allowed his friendships to dissipate over the year they had been separate.

Bozer is his childhood best friend, and Riley had become a solid foundation in his life. He didn't have anyone outside his team at Phoenix, and while he deeply cared for Desi, their first relationship was proof that too much time—and too little communication—with each other can do severe damage to one's sanity.

If Russ hadn't brought them back together, would they have tried to reconnect at some point?

Mac wants to say they would have but wouldn't blame them if they didn't; they all lost something they cared about, and each served as a constant reminder of it.

It would've been hard, but part of him feels like living without them is a lot harder.

When he manages to access the lab, flipping his shiny new I.D. card over his fingers and into its place in his wallet, his eyes scan the room. It's empty, which isn't unusual at this time, but years of military training have rewired his brain to notify him of threats, even if there aren't any.

Just like he thought it would be, the device sits untouched a few tables behind Bozer's workspace where Mac had been sitting.

Quickly, because he left the house in a hurry and forgot to leave a note, he scoops up his phone and makes his way towards the exit. There's a couple of missed calls, but it doesn't seem like he missed anything too important.

Not that they would let him.

At any rate, they would probably show up on his doorstep if they couldn't get a hold of him. With days off so few and far between, that's the kind of interaction he's hoping to avoid. Hence, why he came to pick up his phone when he realized it was missing instead of waiting until the next day.

He's nearly made it to the end of the hall when a light flashes in his peripheral vision, coming from the I.T. department.

His body is tense with apprehension; his mind races with several different kinds of possibilities and outcomes. He slows his pace, his movements fluid, silent, and controlled from years of stealth practice.

The light is soft, he notices, as if only one or two monitors are in use.

When he gets to the doorway and nudges open the door, hands at the ready, his entire body sags in relief to see the dark wavy hair he's come to associate with one of his closest friends.

"Riles?"

The nickname falls from his mouth before he can stop it, and even though the light from the monitor creates a halo above her head, shadowing her features, it's unmistakably her.

She doesn't move.

It becomes abundantly clear why as Mac moves towards her and notices the monitor's screen filling up with a sequence of letters that look nothing like coding despite his lack of knowledge in programming languages.

Her elbow balances precariously on the edge of the table, her arms creating a makeshift pillow for her head. The weight of her forearm bears down on the keyboard, causing the side of her hand to press down multiple keys at once.

He shakes his head a little, amused by the situation unfolding.

Her cheek rests comfortably on her hand, a serene expression masking the signs of exhaustion that showed on her face.

Mac's lips curved into a soft smile, seeing Riley in any state that wasn't cloaked in layers of worry or anxious determination always washed away any doubts he might have about working in such a stressful field.

The scars that covered his body, the secrets he has to keep, and the pain he has to endure are so unbelievably worth it as long as she out of harm's way and able to sleep peacefully.

Of course, he couldn't imagine anyone else by his side on a mission, knowing they share the same love and passion for kicking ass and saving lives.

However, he also knows that more lies underneath the surface.

He wouldn't wish the hardships of this job on anyone. Seeing it affect someone he cares about, watching it break them down slowly pulls at his heartstrings and fills him with a knowing sadness.

When a piece of hair falls into her face, his fingers don't hesitate to gently brush it behind her ear, lightly tracing her cheekbone and caressing her cheek.

Kneeling, his hand drops to her shoulder in an attempt to gently wake her.

After a couple of shakes, the expressive brown eyes he's come to look forward to seeing begin to flutter open and nearly render him speechless.

She blinks a couple of times, inhaling slowly, "Macgyver."

Her voice is full of sleep and breaks from misuse, but the way she says his name—like there's nobody else she'd expect to see when she wakes up —has him grinning from ear to ear.

"Good morning, sleepyhead."

Rising from her position on the table, she scans the room before meeting his eyes and scoffing, "It's hardly the morning."

He laughs softly, holding back the urge to mention that technically it is morning considering its past twelve. Instead, he focuses on the matter at hand, or more likely, the question at hand.

"What are you doing here so late?"

She's more alert now, sitting back in her chair and lifting her arms to stretch out the muscles that stiffened while she slept, glancing at her work on the monitor.

Her face drops into a grimace when she notices her mistake, "Matty and I were talking about updating the foundation's firewall and spyware," she yawns, "I must have been more tired than I realized."

Mac's eyebrows scrunch in thought, remembering something Bozer said earlier about Riley spending quite a few nights this week working late.

Between going over his mother's scientific data, trying to patch up whatever relationship he had left with Desi, and making sure he didn't go off the rails with grief, his effort to check in on everyone decreased significantly.

"Yeah, you've been doing that a lot lately," his hand returned to her shoulder to emphasize his point, "Everything okay?"

She waves him off, "There's too much work that needs to be done around here before we can get things running the way they used to."

Riley doesn't lie to him—if you overlook the whole situation with her ex, Aubrey, that is, but the movements she's making indicate otherwise.

Her eyes refuse to meet his, flickering down and to the right. When she talks, her head shakes lightly, and she purses her lips in an attempt to give off a careless impression. Maybe someone who doesn't know her or didn't train to pick up on it would believe her, but he knew better.

She was definitely hiding something from him.

Part of him understands that if she wanted to talk about it, she would. However, his instincts urge him to press harder, locate the problem, and bring back her contagious smile that always seems to fill him with warmth.

As much as he doesn't want to admit it, you can't patch some things together by sheer will and sellotape, so instead, he stands up and drops his hand from her shoulder.

"Let's get you home."

#macgyver #macriley #angus macgyver #riley davis #i really hope you like this

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my-watch-begins · 4 years

Text

Peeping Sam.

Rafe Adler x Reader.

Words: 3435

Warnings: cursing, smut, (voyeurism maybe? IDK)

~•~•~•~

The heavy wind ruffled your hair as you stepped out of the car, the air filling with the heavy hums of the engines of the jet. Your free hand shots your hair backwards as your other one clasps onto your purse and phone.

Your eyes run around the tarmac until you find who you're looking for. Standing a few feet away, he taps his foot on the floor as he waits for you to reach him. You smile, hoping that would lessen the thin line that his mouth has formed, along with his clenched jaw and hard stare.

"You're late" he says loud enough to make himself heard over the engines.

Your hand grabs the rim of your sunglasses and pulled them up over your head, making your hair stop swinging in weird directions. You lean over a little and tilt your had upwards, a smile still on your lips.

"Just fashionably" you humour, hoping he would lean in to your lips for a quick kiss. You look away into the distance as he pulls back and heads for the open door of the jet.

Oh, you hated when he did that, just leave your hanging for a kiss.

Your jaw clenches in anger as you will your sunglasses back down and walk behind him following him to the jet, your heels click over the stairs and once you're up, you hear him command take off as he sits down on the big leather seat next to the window.

The door is sealed shut, you sit in one of the seats next to his but separated with the hallway and look to the side, fitting your purse and phone in a compartment that opens next to you. Once the plane is up in the air you take your seatbelt off and stand up. One short step later you turn around and lean back to sit on his lap, he gives you a sigh of annoyance and looked up at you.

"I told you I needed to leave right away, that was two hours ago"

"There was a traffic jam, that was not my fault" you excuse quietly, rounding his shoulder with one of your arms your other hand comes up to his neck, pulling his face up to meet yours "where are we going?"

"To Scotland"

"Oh" you gasp quietly in disappointment.

"And I don't want to hear it"

"You don't want to hear what? Me complaining an old decrepit church gets more attention from my fiance than me?" You stress, leaning back to look at his brown eyes. His stare softens and he places one of his hands on your lower back, another one creeps from your thigh upwards, just barely teasing on the rim of your tight dress. "You said-"

"I know what I said" he interrupts, his hand crawling from your lower back to the middle, pulling you in and having your face hover up above his "I've got someone who's been working on it, I'm just going to apply a little pressure because it's been more than a year without nothing, and I'm about to move to another strategies"

"Good" you whisper, your hand hooks behind his neck and pulls him for a kiss, his hand now fully sneaking under your skirt and teasing between your legs. "Rafe-" you gasp, stopping his hand halfway "not on the flight"

"They get paid to not watch" he smiled over your lips, hooking your hand on the back on your knee to pull it and make you straddle him, his lips not leaving the ferocious attack on yours.

Rafe Adler and you had meet when his parents' company had absorbed your parent's just before it succumbed to bankruptcy, an event that would've most likely have left you to find a new lifestyle. Luckily between mingling dinner parties even if that had happened you'd already found yourself hooked to Rafe's arm and tangled in his Egyptian cotton sheets. That had been years ago, he'd since then brought you along on business trips, paraded you around with investment firms and put a nice ring on your finger.

You knew about the pirate treasure, it had been the subject of pillow talks enough times for you to know everything, and his travels to the Scottish church was one he did at least once a month until you'd made the mistake to tell him to forget about it.

There was no other reason for him to want the treasure if not for the reputation, the fame, fortune? No, he had enough of that already, a few more million dollars wouldn't really make his balance a big difference, but being the man who found Henry Avery's pirate treasure, oh that had a nice ring to it.

You thought it only had been a few months ever since he mentioned that he had a new expert to help him with the search, but now it came to your attention it had been in fact more than a year, and Rafe had been told by this expert that with the technology of today, they could open a lot of dead ends.

You arrived at Rafe's state in Scotland, an army of people coming out of the mansion. One of them opened the door of the car to help you exit, another one of them opened the door of the state and Rafe took a step to the side to let you in first. Since you had not had time to get a bag ready, there was not much unpacking to do, luckily the state had become a second home to you and you had enough spare clothing in there. You'd moved to the bedroom to change into warmer clothes leaving behind the dress that was perfect for the New York heat, and moved to a pair of pants and a wool sweater.

You found yourself in a few business calls after Rafe had texted you to take care of them while he talked with the expert, who was also staying in the state. Dinner time came, and not wanting to have it alone you instead headed out to the garden and the pool. A slow steam oozed out of the surface of the pool, making you know that the water was hot. You smiled and proceeded to undress completely, the night air hitting your skin and making it perk up in goosebumps that quickly subsidised as you climbed down the side ladder and downed your body in the lukewarm water.

You leaned over the edge of the pool to rummage around your clothes to find your phone, you snapped a photo of yourself tentatively over your shoulder, making your backside stand out it's curves under the water and sent it to Rafe.

Your left to phone on the side of the pool and swam around, hoping he would see the photo and come to your encounter outside. That didn't happen.

Rafe was in one of the rooms, looking down at blueprints and old books.

"So, that's why it's taking a while" Sam quickly excused "I've been trying to make my way around these books to find any mention of Avery and his passing relating to the Scottish monastery, so far it's nothing"

"Samuel" he began, lifting his eyes to Sam's, his gaze slowly hardening "it's been past a year, and I've already scouted the shit out that fucking building in the time you've been in lockup" he quickly pulled up his eyebrows and gave him a smug smile "so, it's time we move out of the monastery, I've got a contact who can-"

"Wait wait wait" Sam hurried as he placed his hands up "I can still go to the site, maybe there's something I'm missing"

Rafe loved moments like these, moments were people suddenly succumbed to try and change his mind about thing, he didn't take joy just on Sam's pleas, but also with assistants, chefs, help, even his own investors, businessman, he loved the power.

He placed his hand on Sam's shoulder and gave him a curve of his mouth, looking at him through squinted eyes.

"I'm staying here to help with the research for up to a month, I have other matters to attend... But maybe if we throw both our brains at this, we can work it out" he assured, then just as Sam was about to relax at his words, he tightened he grip just a little on his shoulder "but just one month, I've already wasted more money and time in this adventure than the one I'll be able to get out of one filthy pirate"

Sam nodded, making Rafe smile and pat his shoulder, leaving the study Sam had made his own and walking to the bedroom.

Sam sighed out of his nostrils and shook his head, looking into his pockets for a lighter and his cigarettes.

He'd been buying time, now noticing that it might've been too much already and Rafe was he restless. He'd found what he thought to be a good lead to follow, but he wasn't going to present it as an option until he got a last good look at the church in those following days, he was sure there was a clue there and he couldn't believe he was missing it, his stubbornness not letting him look to another solution to the puzzle.

He felt sick doing this by himself, and he'd already thought of what was he going to say to his brother when I went out to find him and told him that he'd been, firstly; alive, secondly; looking for Avery's treasure with Rafe.

He walked out of the study and into the outside balcony, his lighter clicked and sparked up a flame. He lit up his cigarrete and leaned his forearms on the stoned fence that rounded the balcony, looking outside and taking one deep calming breath.

"Hello?" He suddenly perked up at the female voice, he looked behind him with a frown, what a thing of nightmares to hear a voice out of nowhere in a creepy castle "down here" the female beckoned with a chuckle. He leaned over the edge and looked down at the garden, a figure presenting in front of him on the pool "hi" she saluted, looking up and moving to the edge of the pool. From his view he could see the outlines of your body, noticing the even color that gave away that you were naked.

"Hi" he answered, his voice coming up to a high pitch of confusion.

"I don't have a towel, mind throwing one?" You ask, looking up and leaning over the edge, you finger holding your face up.

Sam bolts out of the room and heads over to the bathroom, in a few seconds he's opening the door to the garden and walks to the ladder, as soon as he sees your hands grab the handles and pull yourself up, he catches a glance of your naked breasts and the water that cascades down your chest, he looks up and a smile peaks on his lips. He's holding the towel open and he heard the water splashing, along with wet steps walking to where he's at, his eyes do not leave the spot he's picked on the sky. He feels the towel being gripped and taken out of his hands, the rustling of the fabric makes him know that the piece is now safely draped around your body.

"Good job on not looking tiger" you whisper with a smile then start walking to the door. Sam finally looks at your figure, his smile disappearing from his face as he sees Rafe holding the door open, him too clasping a towel on his hand. His audition picks up a conversation as his gaze looks down, dodging Rafe's.

"I just saw your text" Rafe excuses, dropping the towel in a nearby patio chair.

"It's okay" you dismiss. Sam picks up from the corner of his eyes how Rafe's arm rounds your waist as you walk through the door, both of you disappearing into the state and leaving him outside.

He hadn't felt the whirl of emotions in a long time, going from surprise to excitement to arousal to dread in just a few minutes. Sam walks inside, relaxing in seeing no sign of Rafe or his girl.

It amazes him how little time has passed between you two walking in and the muffled moans that come from the master bedroom. He walks past it to head to his own room, but stops dead in his tracks as a high moan reverberates out of the room, followed by deep grunts.

He stands at the door, wondering if he's really thinking about what's he's going to do next, his eyes darting to his hands holding a few tools to pick the lock. He's done that a few times with about just every locked room in the state, finding a vast amount of spare bedrooms and office spaces, nothing too fancy. He knows the layout of the master bedroom quite well, so when he picks the lock and it clicks open, he just has to push it ajar barely an inch to get an almost full view of the king size bed, his eyes dilated when he spotted the two figures on the bed.

Rafe's hand snakes up your throat and pulls you on your knees, your back flushing against his hard chest as he pounds you from behind, his other hand holds your waist still in a hard grip, leaving you immobile and he pulls back completely and rams into you with hard and decided thrust. As he keeps pounding at a steady pace your moans picking up in volume and in tone. His mouth comes to your ear, his grip tightening on your neck as his hips keep buckling back and forth, driving his hard cock into you.

"Are you liking that?" He breathes out, you eyebrows knit at this middle as your moans become more high pitched at the speed.

"Faster" you demand, Rafe let's out a breathless chuckle on your ear.

"Faster you say?" His hand leaves your neck and pulls your chest down on the bed, your backside sticking up and opening itself more to allow Rafe's thrusts, he picks up the pace, favoring speed over depth and in a few seconds your hips and buckling and your toes curling as you scream, fisting the bedsheets, you scream a moan and then complain when he pulls out, pushed you a little to the side as he moves to lay on the bed. "Come here" it's his turn to command, you comply quickly crawling on top of him, his cock finding it's was back into your pussy as you sit.

He grunts when he feels your walls are still clenching past the orgasm, and he doesn't wait for you to finish. His hands come to your waist as yours come to his chest, your hips lifting all the way up on his length, then dropping in one quick move. He allows your pace, his hands crawling from your waist to your breasts, cupping them and filling his palms with them as you continue moving your hips up and down.

His hands come to your elbows and grips them, holding them at either side of your body as he pulls you to lay your chest on top of his, he plants his feet on the matress and gets more leverage, your face comes to his and he plants a hungry kiss on your lips as he began to quicken the pace, thrusting upwards, the sound of skin on skin filling the room as much as your muffled moans.

His lips leave yours with a grunt, seeing your half pained, half pleasure ridden face.

"Too much for you to handle love?" He asks, you bite your lip and shake your head in denial.

"I love your cock pounding me just like that baby" you breath out.

His hands, still gripping your arms by the elbow, tug back making you straighten up a bit.

"Open yourself up for me" he demands, your hands come to the height of your ass, so you grip it and open yourself up, that move somehow turns on your sensitivity to a thousand. Rafe's thrusts don't falter one bit as he picks up speed, eliciting longer and louder moans from you along with a string of 'yes' that doesn't stop until your legs involuntarily close at his waist, you yell out and buckle your hips out of control as you cum. Rafe leaves your arms and places his hands on your ass, crunching his torso upwards as he makes your hips come up and down on his length in three quick successions until he bursts inside of you with a heavy grunt ripping out of his chest.

Your hands had grabbed onto his biceps and squeezed your fingers into his skin as you rode our your orgasm and braced yourself for his last thrusts, the ones that always left your legs tingling and threatening to lose sensitivity.

Rafe plops down on the matress with a long sigh, your breath is trying to go back to normal as you look down at him, your face still at the same height as his.

He chuckles when he sees your hair messing out of the best ponytail that is now down to your shoulders and just a fucking mess. His hands trail from your waist, going up and down the curves of your body as he pulls you down, your lips come to his in a drunken and half conscious kiss.

He cups your neck and pulls you back just a bit.

"Shower now or tomorrow?" He asks, you quickly descend fully onto his chest and hide your face in the crook of his neck.

"Tomorrow, I can't barely move" you said quietly. Rafe takes it upon himself to move out of you and clean the mess between your legs, then lays you properly on the bed and slips in with you. Your arm lays on his chest and your face comes to the crook of his neck again. After a few minutes of laying quietly, you lift up your head and look at him. He notices you're not sleeping and looks down at you. "What was that?" You ask, tinting your head to the side.

You've done that move a thousand times, and Rafe fell on it a thousand more.

"You're welcome for the best fuck of your life"

"And?" You tease with a chuckle, he chuckles at his own response, then lifts his hand and rubs his fingers down you jaw, going up lightly on your cheek.

"And I love you" his finger traces up your temple, finally his hand cups your face and his thumb lays over the apple of your cheek. "You're the best thing in my life, you know this"

"I do know, I just like to hear it from time to time" your fingers come up to his hand, tracing down lightly on his palm and down on his wrist, a gentle touch that sent shivers down Rafe's arm. He pulls you in as he crunched his head up, his lips meeting yours in a soft kiss.

The next morning, you're up before he is and you're almost ready to head out for breakfast, he waits for you in the bedroom, giving his watch a glance before he stands up.

"Wanna have breakfast on the dinning room-" he asks, walking to the door, he stops on his tracks and inspects it.

His finger comes up to the handle and he pulls back, the door opening with ease. He looks down the hall through the crack of it and pulls a little frown.

"Rafe" you call, standing next to him as you fix your earings, he looks to the side at you questioningly "what's the other option?" You pick up the previous conversation.

"The living room, I can have the fire set up for us" he pulls the door open.

"That sounds lovely" you mutter with a smile, finishing with your earing.

He walks a step out the door and pulls it, leaving it ajar and looking through the crack, his head tilts upward as his tongue pushes up on his palate.

You take the door and open it, finding him with a expression on his face you couldn't pinpoint.

"What was that?" You ask, confused as to why he's doing all of those weird moves with the door.

"Nothing" he dismissed, extending his hand to you "let's grab breakfast".

#rafe adler #reader insert #smut #Uncharted 4 #sam drake

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