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xx-thedarklord-xx · 6 years

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Worth it

“No, don’t play with him,” an older girl with a cruel expression sneered. “He’s that weird boy. You know, the one who has a murderer for a parent.”

Harry’s fists clenched as he tried not to hate her. Sirius always said that it’s okay to be angry at someone, but when you hate them, you let them in.

“Sirius didn’t do anything wrong!” Harry argued, eyes going to the boy he had just met. His pretty brown hair catching in the wind.

When the boy stepped away from Harry and went with the girl, he felt tears form. He knew it was wrong, but he hated them. Hated people who talked bad about Sirius.

Harry ran towards the edge of the park and threw himself on the ground.

“What’s with you? You’ll get your clothes dirty, and it’s my turn for laundry. Wait until it’s Sirius’ turn.”

Harry scooted closer till he could rest his head on a warm knee.

“Moony, why are people rude?”

Remus sighed, the sound loud enough to worry Harry. He hadn’t wanted to upset him.

“That’s a hard question to answer. Sometimes people aren’t aware that they are being cruel, and other times they might not be ready to be nice. Or maybe they were always mean, and they won’t change.”

“Why?”

Remus shrugged before his fingers played with Harry’s hair.

“Because people are complicated. Not everyone you meet will be nice.”

“Why?”

“Because humans are flawed.”

When Harry opened his mouth, he saw Remus’ brows arched, and he knew that look, that was the look Remus usually gave Sirius when he didn’t want to talk anymore.

“Can we get ice cream? Banana Toast?”

“You don’t like that kind.”

“Sirius does.”

Remus’ hands stilled before he looked to where the other kids were playing.

“Alright, we can get Sirius some ice cream.”

Harry grinned before he rubbed his face on Remus’ knee. He liked Moony—Remus was always nice to him.

He just wished that people would be nice to Sirius too.

-------------------------------

“Harry, you can’t keep getting into fights,” Sirius whispered as he applied a healing salve to Harry’s cheek.

“But Sirius, you didn’t hear what they said about you! It was mean!”

Sirius closed his eyes before he pulled Harry into his arms.

“I promise you I have heard worse things.”

“That doesn’t make me feel better.”

Harry could feel Sirius’ laughter against the top of his head as Sirius’ arms tightened.

“Pup, I know you feel like you have to defend me, but they don’t matter. What they are saying doesn’t mean anything.”

“Yes it does!” Harry yelled as he pushed away from Sirius’ hold and angry tears welled up.

“Harry—”

“No! You don’t get it,” Harry cried. “It does matter. Because they don’t know how nice you are. You read me stories every night, you sing sometimes when I can’t fall asleep, you helped me win the pillow war against Remus, and you let me have ice cream before dinner when Moony isn’t around.”

“How about we keep that last one quiet,” Sirius whispered as he looked to the door.

“You let me look at photos of my mum and dad.” Harry looked to the ground as the tears fell. “And I know you miss them. I’m not them, but you love me too.”

“Oh, Harry.” Sirius kneeled in front of him. “Of course I love you. You are my little pup.”

“Don’t you see?” Harry asked. “Don’t you see why I have to fight? I have to let them know who you are.”

Sirius’ eyes closed as he shook his head.

“It’s enough that you know who I am. You and Moony are all I really need.”

That wasn’t enough. Sirius deserved for the whole world to see him as Harry did. He wanted to argue, but he could tell that Sirius was done talking about it.

People sucked.

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“Look at his clothes.”

Harry knew they were talking about him, knew that it was just an excuse to be mean.

“What about them? He looks fine to me.”

The confusion in the voice had Harry’s head popping up as he looked at a group of kids his age playing exploding snap.

One, in particular, was staring at him. Harry had seen him before, but only briefly, he wasn’t in the same class as him. They only had one more year before they would go to Hogwarts.

“He’s Black’s heir,” someone whispered, but Harry’s eyes were still on the boy. He had blond hair that looked as soft as Sirius’ fur when he was a dog, and he had pretty silver eyes.

“Sirius Black?”

Harry looked down at his hands as he tried not to become angry. Would the boy judge him for that? They didn’t even know Sirius. Never bothered to look deeper.

“The murderer.”

“Alleged murderer.”

Harry inhaled sharply as he looked up.

“Besides,” the boy continued. “Sirius is my cousin.”

Harry blinked rapidly as he tried to remember if Sirius had mentioned any cousins. The only family Sirius ever talked about was his half-demon distant relatives. The pretty boy didn’t look like a demon.

The rest of the kids started whispering as the boy walked towards Harry.

“Hello, I’m Draco.”

A hand was shoved into Harry’s face, and he stared at it before looking up at Draco.

“I’m Harry,” he whispered, face heating up when a warm smile was sent his way.

Harry shook his hand, holding on longer than Sirius taught him.

“Can I play with you?” Draco asked as he sat down and gestured to the puzzle he was working on.

“Yeah,” Harry said, grateful for the chance to have a friend. “You can.”

Perhaps not everyone was mean.

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“I made a friend today.”

Remus dropped his book, and Sirius gasped as he clutched a ladle to his chest.

“That’s great! We can—”

“Do you have proof?”

Harry and Remus glared at Sirius who lifted the ladle in surrender.

“He’s really nice,” Harry said when Sirius impatiently gestured for him to continue.

“You didn’t fight him, did you?”

Harry harrumphed. “I don’t fight everyone, Moony.”

“Yeah,” Sirius agreed. “He only fights the majority.”

Harry laughed when Remus sighed heavily.

“Tell us more about your friend,” Remus said as he picked up his book. “What’s his name? How did you meet him?”

“His name is Draco and I—”

The ladle fell from Sirius’ hands.

“Draco, as in Draco Malfoy? That Draco?”

Harry nodded, his brows merging and a frown forming.

“Moony,” Sirius whined.

“Oh, no. Don’t even start. You aren’t taking away his only friend.”

Taking?

“You know who his father is.”

“Yes, and I also know who your parents were. Had the misfortune of meeting them too.”

Sirius gasped. “That was low!”

Harry looked between them, unsure of whether a fight was happening or not.

“Sirius,” Remus sighed as he pinched the bridge of his nose. “Look at Harry. He needs a friend. He’s a loner with no life.”

“Hey!” Harry cried as Sirius barked out a loud booming laugh.

“Alright, let’s meet your friend. It might be the only one you get.”

“I hate you both,” Harry grumbled as they both laughed and pulled him into a group hug.

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“Harry, you can’t just punch your way out of every argument. It’s barbaric and horribly muggle.”

Harry peered up as Draco wiped the blood off his face where a cutting hex hit his cheek.

“You know I couldn’t let him say all that.”

“What was said about Sirius this time?” Draco asked with a sigh.

Harry bit his lip as he looked to his hands. “They were talking about you.”

Draco’s hands stilled.

“Your father, really. But they were judging you! I couldn’t let them.”

“Harry, you don’t have to defend me. Most of what they say about me is true.”

Harry shook his head rapidly as his hair moved with the movement.

“That’s a load of hogwash, and you know it,” he growled before pushing Draco back.

“Harry—”

“Sure, you don’t have the kind of humour most people like, or a sense of humour at all, really.” He grinned when Draco glared at him.

“Sometimes you say things that are mean to people, but you always apologize when you realize it hurt them. That’s not something everyone does. I would know, Draco.”

“But—”

“You are always there for me, even when I start fights with seventh years that I know I can’t win.”

“That’s because you are stupid—”

“You let me sleep in your bed when I start to miss Sirius and Remus.”

“Yeah but—”

Harry shook his head slowly.

“You help me be better, Draco.”

Draco’s cheeks were pink, and Harry wasn’t sure what to do with that.

“You don’t deserve to be talked about like that. They don’t even know you.”

“It’s alright,” Draco said, tone quiet. “It doesn’t matter.”

“It matters to me,” argued Harry. “You matter to me.”

Draco pulled Harry into a hug as he whispered, “You’re my best friend.”

Harry would always protect those he cared about, and that included Draco.

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The sound of students yelling had Harry pushing people aside. It was hard to tell if it was positive or negative. Things had been hectic with the Triwizard Tournament going on.

“Think Smith has a shot?”

“No way, not with how good Malfoy is with a wand.”

Harry’s heart skipped a beat as he prodded people till they got out of his way.

Draco and Smith had their wands extended and they were glaring at each other.

“Oi! What’s going on?”

Smith sneered when he looked up.

“Looks like you can’t fight your own battles.”

“Harry, back away,” Draco ordered without looking away from Smith.

Harry wanted to protest, but he had been in the same situation before, only always on the reverse. He sighed before doing as Draco asked.

The fight was over as quickly as it began. Smith was all spells and no wand—something anyone could see as his magic caved quickly to Draco’s spells.

Smith broke the duel mid-fight to run away, and Draco turned to Harry with a smug grin.

“What was that about? You know you’re going to get detention, right?”

Draco shrugged as he walked closer to Harry and the crowd slowly dispersed.

“You should have heard the shit he was saying.”

“I’m surprised he was bold enough to trash talk you to your face.”

Draco shook his head. “He wasn’t making fun of me. He was saying stuff about Sirius.”

Harry froze before he blinked rapidly.

“He was talking about Sirius?”

Draco scowled, clearly still offended. “Real nasty stuff, too. The nerve of him. As if he even knows Sirius.”

Harry’s mind hadn’t properly computed the situation before he said, “I want to kiss you.”

“I—” Draco stopped to stare at Harry, eyes wide and face pinking up.

“Tell me I can kiss you?”

Draco nodded once before he cupped Harry’s cheeks.

The kiss wasn’t what Harry had expected. Their noses bumped, and Draco’s lips were far smoother than Harry’s own chapped lips, but it didn’t matter—not when he was kissing Draco.

“No one has ever stood up for Sirius but me,” Harry mumbled against Draco’s lips.

Draco laughed, the sound a little breathless. “That’s what this is about? Are you saying if I had defended him before, you would have kissed me sooner?”

“I don’t know,” he admitted, eyes on Draco’s lips. “I do know that I want to kiss you again.”

Draco grinned, smile just as beautiful as the rest of him.

As their lips pressed together, Harry could hear movement, but he paid it no mind as Draco pulled him closer.

“Detention Mister Malfoy,” McGonagall’s voice rang out, jarring them apart. She eyed them sternly before she turned to Draco.

“You would do well not to pick up Mister Potter’s bad habit of fighting.”

Draco laughed as Harry gasped. There was a small smile on McGonagall’s face, and that was the only reason Harry didn’t say anything.

“I think she likes me,” he told Draco when she continued down the hall.

“Not as much as I do.”

Harry wished his cheeks hadn’t heated up as he turned to Draco.

“I don’t think anyone could like you as much as I do,” Draco continued, eyes on Harry’s face.

Harry knew that Draco told the truth, and it was something that went both ways.

-------------------------------

“They are totally getting married.”

“Sirius, they are 16.”

“So? Look at them,” Sirius pointed to where Harry and Draco were sitting on the same chair as they read a muggle comic book.

“I’m seeing two teenagers who dress bad and have a horrible taste in comics. DC over Marvel? Come on.”

“Who cares what kind they read?” Sirius’ tone was exasperated. “I’m talking about their relationship.”

“What about it?”

“Well, doesn’t it remind you of us?”

Remus smiled softly. “Yes, but we didn’t get married.”

“We could.”

Remus narrowed his eyes. “Are you proposing for the sake of your argument?”

“Technically, yes—but—” Sirius said loudly when Remus threw his hands in the air. “That doesn’t mean I don’t want to!”

When Remus stood up, Sirius yelled, “Come on Moony! Marry me!”

Harry and Draco looked at each other as the kitchen door closed.

“That was a horrible proposal,” Harry said as Draco nodded.

“What do you know?” Sirius grumbled as he folded his arms. “Getting married at 16 and being all young.”

Draco’s eyes widened. “We aren’t getting married. Are you taking the mickey out of me?”

When Sirius said nothing and followed Remus into the kitchen, Harry looked to Draco.

“I think he’s gone mental.”

“I think he was already mental.”

Harry arched a brow. “Are you baiting me? You know I always defend Sirius.”

Draco scrambled to get out of the chair, but Harry was quicker.

“No, I was joking. I didn’t—” Draco yelped as Harry’s fingers began tickling him.

“I was kidding! Harry!”

The sound of their laughter drew Remus and Sirius back into the room, heads barely through the door.

“Maybe you’re right,” Remus said softly.

“Does that mean you’ll marry me?”

Remus rolled his eyes before smiling when Draco let out a loud laugh.

“Does your silence mean yes? I’m assuming it does.”

“Moony?”

“Moony!”

-------------------------------

Bonus Scene

“I can’t believe it’s actually happening,” Harry whispered as the ceremony began and the audience quieted down.

“It was bound to happen eventually,” Draco added, grin on his face as he looked at everyone. “Moony couldn’t say no for that long.”

Harry cried before Remus and Sirius had even walked down the garden path. “They’ve always been my parents—at least in the ways that count.”

Draco entwined their fingers together before placing their hands in his lap.

When Remus and Sirius walked in, and the knot tying began, Draco had started to cry too.

“You think that will be us one day?” Harry asked, eyes taking in the happiness on Remus and Sirius’ faces.

“Merlin no, I wouldn’t look good in all silver. I’m too pale.”

Harry rolled his eyes and wondered if it would have been better to have found a different friend all those years ago.

“I don’t know if I want to get married,” Draco continued. “But I know I do want to stay with you.”

Harry laid his head on Draco’s shoulder as he watched the two most important people in his life tie themselves to each other.

“Even if I never stop fighting?”

“Especially because you’ll never stop fighting. It’s just who you are.”

Some things in life were worth fighting for. Harry’s family and friends would always be the most important thing to him.

And that included Draco. It always would.

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This was supposed to be a small thing for the writer ask that I did. But it’s longer than intended. And it also might not quite be what the prompter meant.

I do hope @annoying-slytherin you like it! Thank you for the prompt

#Drarry #Draco Malfoy #Harry Potter #Drarry squad #Sirius Black #Remus Lupin #Side paring wolfstar #kid meet #friends #friends to lovers #prompt #writer ask #my writing

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marvelheaux · 6 years

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T’challa’s Outside Daughter (Chapter 2)

T’challa x BlackDaughter!Reader or O/C

A/N : Here’s chapter 2! Sorry I didn’t upload this earlier, I was really busy :( I hope that you like it! Be sure to check out the story links below or search the “Zyra Udaku” tag for stuff pertaining to the fic. Enjoy! - Lanna xx

Description : Zyra is the first born of King T’challa. She moved to the states and grew up with her Single mother with hardly any contact with her father. Queen Mother Ramonda decided that with all the drama and secrets going on, that it's time to bring the family together .

Story Links:

Main Character + Faceclaim

Character List

She met one of her father's Exes (oneshot)

TOD Prologue , Chp1

Warnings: Possible Grammar Errors, Angst, Strong Language

Words: 2K

FLASHBACK (one year ago)

The king and the royal council gathered for a meeting (more like a parent meeting) was in effect to discuss a verbal feud that had been going on between the King’s daughter Sariyah and the River Tribe Elder’s youngest daughter Kailee. According to Princess Sariyah, it was alleged that Kailee ‘purposely’ bumped into her at the mall and didn’t ‘properly apologised to her’ . This matter turned ugly when Sariyah’s friends were egging her on causing them to both exchange insults. Kailee’s insult ; “I’ll beat yo ass like your daddy should! Don’t play with me” is the main reason for this meeting.

“She started it!” Sariyah whined, whilst standing next her her father’s throne. “She had the nerve to threaten me!” She was trying to explain her side so she can validate her ‘innocence’ to her parents.

Kailee rolled her eyes.

“When I said I’ll beat yo ass, I mean that shit”

“Kailee watch you mouth umntwana!” the tribe leader shouted sternly to his daughter.

Kumkani DID NOT have time for this. He actually had to handle some business with the UN officials and hoped that this silly disagreement would be resolved quickly.

“SILENCE!” The room stood still as the King spoke.

“ There is no proven evidence that my daughter started this fight. Kailee, I assure you if you insult my daughter like that again, there will be consequences.”

“WHAT? I didn’t do anything to her! She called my sister a slut!”

“Meeting adjourn-.”

“If only you put as much energy into Zyra like you do with her..”

“Eh?”

Everyone in the room stunned and shocked by Kailee’s wild statement. Who didn’t clutch their pearls, threw their hands dramatically on their heads. This cause the King to jump out of his royal seat.

“EXCUSE ME? IF YOU KNOW WHAT IS GOOD FOR YOU REPEAT WHAT YOU SAID!”

Queen Ramonda attempted to plead to her son, but she failed.

“Kumkani-”

“Ndicela uphinde! KAILEE!”

Kailee smirked with satisfaction as she gracefully stood up from her seat and projected her voice.”

“Ahem. I SAID! IF YOU PUT AS MUCH ENERGY INTO ZYRA, YOUR DAUGHTER, WHO LIVES IN NEW YORK-

“KAILEE PLEASE LEAVE! NOW!”

“Gladly. Have a great evening Kumkani.” Kailee flashed a snarky smile at King T’challa and left with her father, who was very angry at her for her rude outbursts.

The King's wife Nicolette stood up, confused. “T’challa what is she talking about? Who IS Zyra?”

During this time, The three remaining tribe elders and leaders, quickly made their way out the door, trying to avoid questioning from the Queen. Flashbacks of Zyra’s toddler laughter, and her heartstopping smile, played in his mind as he struggled to avoid his wife’s needy gaze. He stood at the place window overseeing Golden City as a distraction.

“Ramonda?” She looked to her mother-in-law for reassurance, but all she got was a solemn glance.

“Someone answer me!”

Queen Ramonda decided to leave the room promptly instead of getting in the middle. She had been quiet about her estranged granddaughter for years, solely because she wants her son to learn from his mistakes. Anything that happens between now and the future, HE has to fix it.

On the other hand, Nicolette was tired of her husband dancing around the truth and a throbbing pain in her head was brewing.

“T’challa, is it true? Do you really have another daughter?”

More images of Zyra popped up in his head; when he held her as a newborn for the first time, ‘Dada!’, her first words, the tears in Raechella’s eyes , the look on Zyra’s face whenever he pushed her away- It all was starting to consume him.

He turned slowly to face his wife, who is clearly not pleased with him.

“Yes”

Nicolette broke a cold sweat as she was trying to take in what was going on.

“When were you gonna tell me this? When she pops out of nowhere?”

“This was not how you were suppose to find ou-”

“Do better!” she spat bitterly, as she stormed out of the throne room with tears in her eyes.

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Nicolette slumped over the balcony of the Queens’ quarters, taking in the glorious wakandan sunset, as she recapped this afternoon’s events. She turned off her kimoyo beads, because she doesn’t want to hear T’challa’s ‘apologies’. ‘How could he? After all these years.’ She questioned herself. ‘How can he keep such a secret from me?’ Everything makes sense to her now. Why she was never allowed into the King’s office before T’challa was crowned King. Why T’chaka and Ramonda spoke in codes about calls to and from New York. Why the photo of a little girl that she found was snatched from her hands from T’chaka’s personal assistant. It confirmed all the media blogs, wakandan theories and rumors of a “Bastard child and a Secret Baby Mama” that she was encouraged by T’challa to forget about.

Her busy thoughts were interrupted by a touch of someone’s hand, which caused Nicolette to jump out of her skin.

“A penny for your thoughts, My sweet?” Queen Mother sang sweetly while handing her a cup of chamomile tea.

They both sat on the balcony chairs. “I just can’t believe T’challa would hide this from me, from us.”

Nicolette took a sip of her tea. “Can I ask you something Umazala?”

“Mhmm”

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“It’s not my place. Period.” Queen Ramonda stated, as she sat back in her chair with her legs crossed.

“He is a King now, and he need to act like a man and stop running from his past like a coward. This was a life lesson for him.”

Nicolette glanced at the view over the balcony in deep thought.

Her mother-in-law sat her teacup and saucer down and stood up.

“Come with me my dear.”

Ramonda led her to T’chaka’s old private archives stored in her quarters. Nicolette’s stomach churned as Queen Mother brought out a large photo album along with letters and some of Zyra’s belongings. She started to feel desperate for answers. As she browsed through the album, Nicolette’s face lights up. She came across baby photos, some with shuri and action photos of her at competitions. Zyra’s high school photo, and her graduation photo from Spelman College made her smile.

“She’s beautiful”

Her mother-in-law nodded in agreement. “Yes she is. I miss her so much.”

“...and she looks just like him.”

Ramonda and her daughter-in-law had long discussion about Zyra and her mother, and their experiences in the house before she came into the picture until the moon rose.This was all new to Nicolette. T’challa never striked her as the type to lie. But anything goes at this point.

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Nicolette woke up to an empty bed after a restless sleep in the guest bedroom. After yesterday’s events, she was still mad at her husband and she was not in the mood for him to be trying to get on her good side, so she decided not to retire in the matrimonial bed last night. She was just about to freshen up when she heard a soft knock on the door. She sighed annoyingly because she knows who was on the other end.

“Good morning entle.” T’challa said softly.

“Hi” she said dryly, as she ushered him through the door and fold her arms. Her dry demeanor threw him off. She was obviously still mad at him .

“I’m sorry if I hurt you my queen. I didn’t mean to keep this from you.”

T’challa sat on the bed and looked up at his wife, like a dog that disobeyed his owner.

“ Keep the sorry ass apology! You owe it to your daughter, not me! You hid a whole child for years and you never told me anything! Do you have any idea how this is gonna make me look?”

“I did it to protect our relationship and the throne’s legacy.”

Nicolette’s blood boiled as she heard her husband chat shit out of his mouth. She felt like she didn’t know this man anymore.

“T’CHALLA DO YOU HEAR YOURSELF? You abandoned a your child and harassed her mother and all you care about is a legacy?” She paced back and forth.

“You robbed your child of a relationship with you and her siblings. You should be ashamed of yourself!”

“ You sit there and be a horrible father that you are, but I am going to get to the bottom of this.” Nicolette shot T’challa a nasty look before storming out the room, leaving him alone with his thoughts.

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T’challa was desperately trying to win back his wife’s affection and her trust but she was not having it. He couldn’t hide Zyra forever . He knew that the day would come when he had to finally face his daughter head on and he was dreading it. It was all his fault. He was still guilty of the way he treated his daughter and her mother. ‘She would never forgive me’ He frequently thought. ‘I’m pretty sure she hates me.

Meanwhile, Queen Ramonda loaned Nicolette the late King T’chaka’s archives so she can do research on her own; watching her Youtube videos from her channel, past cheer performances, as well revisiting past photos and her contact information.

After careful deliberation, she decided to contact Zyra’s mum Raechella. She was very sceptical about calling her, cause she know how “baby mamas” can have a negative reputation at times, but she thought it was the right thing to do. Plus Ramonda reassured her that Rae was the opposite.

Back in New York, Raechella was at work and receive a phone call from “Queen Ramonda” and quickly excused herself to answer, thinking it was an issue of high urgency. She was confused when a strange female voice responded on the other line. She introduced herself as Queen Nicolette, T’challa’s wife, and Rae was quickly on edge, bracing for a detrimental response. However, her tone seemed positive, explaining her reason for the phone call and apologising about the situation. With that, she agreed to have a sit down with Nicolette at her house.

IN NEW YORK

In a couple of days, Nicolette made an impromptu visit to New York to have this, much needed sit-down. She showed up in hopes of seeing and meeting Zyra for the first time,but was disappointed to hear that she was away in Atlanta Georgia, for a cheerleading competition. Rae welcomed her with opened arms which surprised her, because she had no idea what was about to transpire. She was also stunned by Rae’s maturity, substantial intelligence and of course her beauty. During the sit down, Nicolette was very inspired by her story- being a single mother and also being an independent working woman and bonded over motherhood. She looked through even more photos and achievements of her stepdaughter’s childhood and was in complete awe.

While they were both saying their goodbyes, Nicolette noticed something as she grabbed Rae’s hand.

“Oooo that’s a mighty gorgeous ring. Hitched?” as she giggled.

“Yes I’m engaged” Rae responded with a cheesy smile. Raechella had been recently engaged to her boyfriend Dr. Reed N’kosana, and couldn’t be happier.

“Congratulations I’m so happy for you! You deserve it!”

“Thank You so much! Take care!”

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BACK IN WAKANDA

Nicolette and Ayo stepped out of the quinjet , and T’challa was speed walking in a distance, trying to greet his wife.

“My love how was your trip?”

“Don’t worry about it.” Nicolette said harshly, as she ignored her husband’s attempt of affection and headed into the palace.

--------------------------END OF FLASHBACK-----------------

Ndicela uphinde - please say that again

Umntwana - child

Umazala - mother-in-law

Entle - beautiful

** HEY GUYS SORRY IF THIS SUCKED. BUT IF YOU DO LIKE IT, BE SURE TO REBLOG AND COMMENT. YOUR FEEDBACK MEANS ALOT! - LANNA xx :)

Taglist: @mxrvelous-bxrnes @melaninjoys @champagnesugamama @ginghampearlsnsweettea @kida114 @brianabreeze @royallyprincesslilly @kumkaniudaku @dramaqueenamby @mbakus-bae @killmongersmistress @theifandbegger @sarahboseman @randomassfandomwho @queennanayaa @jadesid @deansbbysblog @pananegra @sisterwifeudaku @skysynclair19

#t'challa #black panther #Chadwick Boseman #zyra udaku #t'challa udaku #black panther imagine #black panther x black reader #t'challa x black!reader #t'challa x black reader #t'challa x oc #black panther fics #lanna fics #queen ramonda #t'challa x reader #t'challa imagine #t'chaka

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exquisitley-obsessed · 6 years

Text

The Three Women Of Durin - A Second Awakening (53)

MASTERLIST FOR THIS STORY

(not my gif)

Thorin and Fili briskly walked together, weaving in and out of sick beds and the drained people who lay prisoner inside them. Thorin wondered what Fili was so desperate about him seeing, but found that he didn’t have the energy to be bothered about it too much, he simply allowed himself to be dragged by his nephew through the winding corridors of Erebor, his feet dragging underneath him.

Thorin during this time peeked a look at his eldest sister-son. Fili had grown wild since that day, losing hours and days of sleep because he simply couldn’t get his brain to stop whirring. He was the only one out of the remaining company that knew that himself, Kili and Thorin were supposed to die instead, and this one thought had completely and utterly consumed him. He had taken up a leading role to busy himself on the days where Thorin’s presence couldn’t be found. He organised the sick beds, he made sure they had enough supplies and he bid his farewells to Thranduil on behalf of the company (he also found rooms for Legolas who talked about leaving with Elrond and Tauriel who decided to stay with Legolas until he left).

Fili had stepped up because he didn’t know what else to do. The pain he, his brother and his uncle were sharing was too deep to be mended with talking to one another, they needed space from each other, they needed space from everyone. But, when you have certain blood running through your veins, you can’t afford to turn your back on the world.

Fili would like to say that he was handling the loss of his three friends well, but by this point, he would be only kidding himself. When the sun was up he put on a dry face, with a soft smile and crinkled eyes, but when the stars prickled across the blackened sky…well, he mourned them.

But it was only when a worried and fanatic Kili had shown up on his doorstep that morning had he been to see them, and that was exactly where he was taking Thorin. When Thorin noticed the place they were heading he thought surely not. But as they grew closer, the lower Thorin’s heart sank into his chest. What was Fili up to?

“Fili, why are you taking me there?” Thorin asked calm, there was no point in freaking out.

“Kili came to my door this morning,” Fili responded after a beat, Thorin had been a bomb recently, say the wrong thing, do the wrong action, and he would explode, “Apparently he’s been spending his time with them…he can’t seem to leave them alone,”

“Oh,” Another reason for Thorin’s heart to hurt, “But why are you taking me?”

“Kili said something was wrong, he couldn’t explain it but…” Fili paused walking turning to face his uncle with unsure eyes, watching carefully at Thorin’s reaction, “He said, he thought he saw them breathing,” Thorin didn’t say anything for a minute, a confusing silence crashing onto the small stone corridor.

“You sound unsure,” Thorin decided to respond with.

“Well,” Fili sighed, walking on, “We’ve all taken this badly haven’t we? Kili’s young, and he’s spent a lot of time in that room, there is a possibility that he’s seeing things. I guess he’s lost all hope so he’s searching for it,”

Thorin walked next to Fili in silence, the conversation dropping off into nowhere. When did he become so grown up? The thought rattled around Thorin’s head like his footsteps rattled around the mountain. Fili had a strong exterior on the outside, he always did, and Thorin couldn’t help but think that he would make the best king Erebor had seen in a long while. As Thorin closed in on the room he had left behind 29 days ago, Thorin thought of Kili. Fili was right, the young lad had been through so much trauma in the past few weeks for someone his age. Hope of the girls being alive shouldn’t be a question anymore, the hope they needed was one of learning to survive without them. But Thorin couldn’t help himself from thinking, what if?

Kili sat with wild eyes and wild hair, he was hunched over stone steps, head in hands, elbows on knees. And when Thorin and Kili walked he scrambled to his feet, more hysterical than excited.

“Kili,” Thorin said coolly whilst looking him up and down, he’s a mess.

“Uncle,” Kili responded, his voice short and sharp.

“Fili told me you might have seen something strange going on with the girls,” The word ‘girls’ got caught in Thorin’s throat but he disguised it with a cough, although, the people who surrounded him in that moment were the last people Thorin needed to put a brave face on for.

“Um, yeah,” Kili got out, he sounded unsure, “Last night I was…here, and I thought I saw the girls breathing,” Kili managed to get out. He looked and sounded rather mental.

“Kili…” Thorin breathed softly, “The girls, are dead, I know this is hard but-” Thorin began but was cut off.

“No,” Kili spluttered, “No I swear!” He turned to his brother.

“Kili…” Fili simply said in a pitying voice, he reached out for Kili who simply brushed him off.

“No!” He said rather loudly, “I’ve spent a lifetime of not being taken seriously because of the number of years I’ve walked on this planet. I know how you think of me. I know, that you think that because I’ll never be the king that I can’t act like one! The blood that runs through your veins, runs through mine. Don’t forget that,”

“Kili, we’re not questioning your authority, we’re questioning your judgement,” Thorin said sternly, unfortunately, this was the first time he had felt like himself since, well, you know, “Do you really think you’re in the correct mindset right now to make this kind of allegation!”

“But Thorin-”

“No!” Thorin shouted, a rumble from somewhere in his chest, “You understand that you are disrespecting the dead,” Silence crashed down on the room.

Thorin walked over to his nephew’s quivering form, a silent ghost of the person who had left the blue mountains nearly a year ago. Slowly, and with gentle hands he took hold of Kili’s shoulders, forcing him to look at him.

“I know this is hard for you,” Thorin said faintly, “It’s hard for everyone.” Thorin was searching for the right thing to say, searching for words that would make the sad echo in his sister-sons eyes wisp into nothingness. “But we can’t bring back the dead,” Thorin’s voice was breaking, “All we can do right now is learn how to live with the pain. But Kili…you’re not doing yourself any good by coming back here so often. There has to come to a time where you need to stop looking into your past for happiness.”

“Stop acting like you know how I’m feeling,” Kili whispered, it was a blue attempt to try and put his emotions into words, but Thorin simply took this as an opening to impart some wisdom he had only recently learned about himself.

“I think I do. I think you’re gripping onto nostalgic thoughts to make it seem like the time you had with them was longer. I bet now they look even brighter and exultant than they did before. I bet you’re thinking you can’t ever possibly feel like that again because they’re not in your life anymore,” Thorin wasn’t just talking to Kili anymore. “But, a time will come when you will smile brightly and laugh alongside a group of people who love you.” Thorin stepped back from his nephew with a warm gaze as the wise words from a friend rung around his ears, “I’m not saying it won’t ever not hurt to think of them, I’m just saying that one day the pain won’t consume you so badly, one day you will smile and not be surprised,” The word’s seemed to be working and Thorin could sense Fili’s presence behind him, all three of the remaining Durin’s gripping onto Thorin’s speech, each and every one of them in search for something to ease the pain. This was a moment to remember.

Thorin smiled once more at his young nephew before stepping back a little further and turning to see Fili who was staring right back at him. Fili touched his heart with a soft smile before reaching his hand out to Thorin, an action which he returned before turning away from his nephews and towards the bodies of the deceased. There were at least one hundred more gifts laid out on and around their stones. Notes, flowers, stones, gems and jewels, and so much more. There were more candles as well, they brightened up the room, making it feel less lonely than Thorin remembered it to be. Thorin was just about to turn and walk out, a new comfort settled in his stomach when his youngest nephew once more spoke up.

“I’d still like you to check them,” Kili’s frail voice echoed around the room, “Please…it’ll put my mind to rest,” Thorin felt his shoulders sink a little, but, one last moment of weakness wouldn’t hurt anyone.

Thorin smiled a sad smile at his nephew before turning back to the girls. He made his way forward, picking his way over candles and cards to the closest body, which he knew was Cece before even looking. Bearing himself, he peered down, how long had it been since he had seen her? how long had it been since he had pictured her face? Cece lay peacefully, flowers intertwined in her locks of blonde, the candlelight flickering across healthy skin and plump red lips. She looked as if she were simply in a deep sleep, and yet, there was no air passing between her lips, no beat of her heart no hum of her voice. No signs of life.

Thorin stepped back from the table, again careful not to trip over curling candles. It was hard now, to look away, for a few seconds he didn’t even know if he could. He had spent nights and days wasted on an ocean of nostalgia, the good, the bad and all that fell between, and yet standing here in front of his friend, he observed how she hadn’t changed at all, not one bit. She still had her youthful glow, her features were as soft as always and it hurt to know the ferocity that used to lie between that perfect image of innocence. Thorin was paying such close attention to detail that he could even see a few beads of sweat dancing their way down her forehead.

Thorin stumbled backwards, crushing a handful of gifts as he did so, his footsteps now loud as they echoed throughout the baron room. Cece hadn’t changed a bit in 29 days. Now, Thorin was no medical expert but he was aware from his past experience with dead bodies, that by now, rigour mortis should have kicked in, the body should have changed colour, blistering should have occurred, and a whole other load of quite disgusting traits. Not only Cece, but Frankie and Rosie also were in the prime of their health (well, if you ignore the bump on Cece’s head, the cuts and bruises that pitter-pattered across Frankie and Rosie’s wound).

“Thorin what is it?” Fili spoke from a distance away, arms folded, his featured doused in curiosity. Thorin tore his eyes away from the three bodies and gaped at his nephews with wild eyes, could this truly be happening? “Thorin,” Fili prompted again.

“Get Oin, now,”

The entire company stood at the side, breaths being held as no one said a word waiting for Oin to give a final statement. Only a few minutes ago Fili had rushed outside the room, his footsteps echoing further and further away as Kili sunk back down to the floor slowly rocking himself backwards and forwards. Fili managed to get a hold of Oin and, once he discussed the matter in hushed tones, the entire company, minus Gandalf, had made their way to the room, sprinting as quietly as they could.

They soon poured into the room, frantically asking questions as they glared at the line of Durin. And soon, before they knew it, the area was being cleared of all gifts and Oin was setting up to work, taking a medical check-up of all the girls.

“Is it even healthy to think there’s a possibility that they’re…” Dwalin trailed off in a hushed tone as he spoke to Thorin, the pair was standing to the side, their eyes fixed on one point. Thorin glanced at where Oin’s hand was currently on top of Rosie’s rib cage, searching for any breath, Thorin couldn’t see any movement but his hope was not tainted.

“One last moment of weakness,” He muttered under his breath, not sure if Dwalin even heard him. They stayed like that for a while, the company in silence as Oin worked his magic. But, eventually, Oin packed up his medical equipment with shaky hands and approached the group.

“They're a bit bruised n' battered,” Oin stared straight at Thorin as he said this, but his mind was somewhere else, something rushing around his head as he thought frantically. “But…” Oin trailed off.

“But,” Thorin said softly, trying to calm his quivering voice. Oin smoothly came back to reality, his eyes focusing gently on Thorin, his bottom lip quivering.

“They’re breathing,”

1 hour later

The room had turned into complete and utter chaos. The entire area had been cleared as high tech medical equipment was rolled into the room, trolley after trolley of sharp metal tools, basins of water and a variety of herbs and essences. Gandalf had been notified of the occurrences and he had rushed down with Lord Elrond and a handful of elves who were the most experienced in medics. The girls now had pillows under their heads and blankets under their bodies, as they were slipped out of their armour, so their breathing could be monitored.

Thorin had turned numb. Everything around him had this magical aura that made his brain ache and eyes burn, nothing looked real anymore. His vision had sunk somewhere back into his skull as everything now had a wishy-washy border and his stomach was constantly churning, turning over and over and over. He had resided onto the steps as talk was happening all around him, people moving, medics calling out numbers that would be noted down on sheets of paper. The world was spinning violently all around him and, yet he could only sit and stare, not able to even begin a train of thought for what he was feeling. Suddenly he was pulled from his dreamy state.

“Thorin,” Came the voice of Elrond, Thorin stood in respect of the wise elf, he’d come a long way, “I have had some of my best medicals reviewing the situation, and they have concluded that yes, the three girls are alive,” Air was quickly sucked through Thorin’s teeth, Elrond, although grimacing continued, “They believe that Rosie, Frankie and Cece are in coma-like states…I guess it’s safe to say that we’ve never seen this happen before, we don’t know what’s going on, but then again that’s always been the case with those three. Right now, we can only hope to learn more when they awake,”

“They’re going to wake up?” Thorin asked, Elrond’s voice was cutting right through the blurry noise around them, searing right into the core of Thorin’s brain.

“Yes Thorin,” Elrond paused as if not sure whether to share this information, “They’re waking up right now,”

Thorin was currently stationed at the end of Rosie’s ‘bed’. She was just like he remembered, the only differences were those that the doctors and nurses had inflicted upon her. Her hair had been cropped a few inches shorter, it now sat around her neck and framed her face a little better, there was a reason for this, something medical, something Thorin had forgotten as soon as the nurse had told him. Her shirt was pulled up to her ribcage to reveal her entire stomach bandaged thickly, her gash turning out to be not as severe as it looked.

To say that Thorin was scared was an understatement. Well, to say that Thorin was feeling anything was an understatement. It felt as though he was sensing everything at once, like all the emotion that had slowly been rung out of him over the past few weeks had sprung up on him all at once. He was watching numbly as an elf wiped away some of the sweat on her forehead with a clean cloth before grinding some herbs in a small wooden bowl.

He concentrated on how the elf’s hands methodically worked, a series of repeated movements. They had structure, organisation and repetition, three traits that had been missing from Thorin’s life in the past year. But then, the bowl was clattering out of the elf’s hands and onto the stone bench as she turned around frantically signalling for another elf doctor a few meters away.

This is where everything happened. People began rushing around like there was no tomorrow, an excited and confused hum began to grow in the room and more and more people began to crowd around Rosie. Thorin didn’t need a doctor to know what was going on. I’m not ready, was the first thought that came to his mind. God, he spent weeks grieving and mourning and he was sure he was going to spend many more, and now, in the space of a few hours, everything had changed.

“Thorin,” He was pulled from his thoughts by a familiar voice, turning he looked up to be greeted with Gandalf’s wise eyes, “Thorin, we’d like for your face to be the first she sees. Normally, we would ask Frankie or Cece but, well…” Thorin expressionlessly nodded in response. Remaining where he stood at the end of the bed as Rosie was propped a little higher on her pillows.

“We’ve got a pulse,” Someone said, but they were far, far away. Thorin felt the breath being knocked out of him as he realised that this was real, this was happening. The world around him came to a standstill, people stopped talking, people stopped doing, people stopped, and they stared. So Thorin scraped out his mind for the right thing to say, words to perfectly express that he was here, right by her and, that he was never leaving ever again. But of course, his mind simply came up blank. So, he settled for a name.

“Rosie,” The word felt weird in his mouth and the fact that he hadn’t said her name in 29 days settled in. Her face, her smile, her weird laugh and her witty words had consumed him these past few weeks, and yet her name had never passed past his lips.

“Rosie,” He said stronger now, something pleading in his voice, and yet she didn’t respond. God how he wished they were alone, if they were alone he wouldn’t feel this heavyweight the status ‘king’ had always come along with, but, he knew that this moment wasn’t just important for him. Rosie was not just his lover, she was so much more to so many more.

Slowly, and then all at once, Rosie’s eyes trembled under underneath her eyelashes before they fluttered open, delicate as a feather. The entire room held their breath as she took low, deep ones, filling the silence with the sound of life. Her baby blues were glossy, unfocused and tainted with confusion as she examined the ceiling above her. Thorin couldn’t take being so far away, he shuffled through the bodies of medics, his heart beating in his throat as he crouched down next to her, his weight causing her to flicker her eyes on him. Her eyes, those beautiful eyes were once more staring at him, but he saw no acknowledgement shining back at him.

“Rosie,” He didn’t know what else to say, he had no other words. The idea that she might not recognise him when she woke didn’t even cross his mind. Rosie simply furrowed her eyebrows slightly as she peeked down at where his hand was gripping on hers. She stared at it for a moment before closing her eyes, letting her head loll back onto the pillow, her eyebrows still intertwined

“Rosanna,” It was a final plea. A desperate note. An unforgiving moment. Rosie’s brows relaxed as her face became once more calm and emotionless, and for a few seconds, it felt as though Rosie hadn’t heard him and the tension in the room neared a breaking point. But then, there was a soft smile and,

“I thought I told you to never to call me that again,”

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cheelchan · 7 years

Text

band!jk 03 (T)

→ summary: “drunk jungkook is best jungkook.”

→ premise: “BTS is a well-known band that regularly releases songs, but the identities of their members are kept as a secret. You’re very much into them, much to the struggle of your best friend, Jungkook, who regularly stresses with the fact that he’s actually part of BTS, but he can’t muster the courage to tell you and confess his feelings to you.” drabble au

→ genre/au: secret band!BTS au, college au fluff, drinking

→ pairing: jeon jungkook | reader

→ word count: 2.7k

→ drabble series: 01 | 02 | 04 | 05 | 06 |

Drinking.

That was the one thing that you've always looked forward to after a grueling month that consisted of papers, reports, presentations, and examinations. You had to hold off drinking for a month, since it always made the beer taste better after a month of abstinence (and also, because you were cooped up in the library the whole time.) At the same time, beer always tasted better when you were already done with the semester, being so free from all the responsibilities of student life.

And that was why you were calling up your best friend to meet you outside of your go-to bar nearby school.

Jeon Jungkook was the best person to go drinking with. First, he always paid half of whatever you ordered, even if you consumed more than half. Second, because you consumed more than he did, you were always more drunk than him, and thus, you can always drink all your fatigue and worries away without a care. And last, you know you would always end up safe in your apartment, scratch-free the following morning.

You, of course, tried to let Jungkook have his fair share of drinking, since you also couldn't bear the guilt that you're always the drunk one, while he's the designated adult (even when the two of you were of the same age.) But, he always insisted that you enjoy the night, anyway, because he's really just fine with drinking only two or three bottles of beer. Four, if you push it, but that's his alleged 'still-sober' limit and that's when he usually stops. On the other hand, you continue on your own and drink six bottles, at the least, and sometimes, you go on as many as you want (and you'd never worry about alcohol poisoning because you would usually pass out by the ninth bottle.)

However, for some reason, the tables have turned because you are currently nursing a drunk Jungkook, who seemed like he already did some pre-game drinks before he met up with you. Something about his housemates celebrating something in his apartment, though he didn't elaborate further.

"You should've told me that you were already in a get-together with them already! I could've called someone else," you chided him, but all you ever heard was a snort from an only-slightly-buzzed Jungkook from an hour ago.

"You'd think you'd celebrate as much if it weren't me? I don't think so, babe."

You felt your heart skip a beat for a moment over what he had just called you. Jungkook never called you that or any term of endearment, but you knew that you should just blame it on the alcohol. Especially now that Jungkook was already talking a lot, a very carefree expression on his face, unlike the usual soft, adorable, but mischievous look he sported when he was with friends. In this case, Jungkook seemed like he didn't care about anything at all.

"So, why do you like BTS so much?" He asked, his voice slightly slurred from the alcohol he drank. For some reason, he was already on his seventh bottle (and to think he had some pre-game drinks!)

You scratched your head, wondering if you should tell him the truth. "Well, BTS is a pretty talented group and-"

"Well, I know that BTS is talented and really great!" For some reason, his smirk is a bit too smug than usual. "But, there should be some sort of reason, right? It just seems like you love us- I mean, them so much."

You didn't seem to catch the mistake that he made, however, as you mused inwardly why you did like the band so much, even when you didn't know them personally. You only knew their songs, and a bit of the background information they gave on some interviews and on-stage, but never more. You don't even know how they actually looked like.

"Some sort of familiarity, I guess? Their songs hit close to me and I feel so at home with their songs," you admitted, realizing that the lyrics to their words were too relatable. And their voices, they always resonated inside you, the pitches hitting close to your heart. And for some reason, their voices actually sounded so familiar....

"Why is everyone so loud here? Wait, let me sing so that I can also be as loud as them," Jungkook pronounced as he was about to stand on the table the two of you were seated on. Your eyes widened as you immediately tried to grab his arm, lunging towards his body so that you could stop him from standing on the table.

"Jungkook, no!"

"Jungkook, yes!" He grinned cheekily, but you had wrapped your arms around him, taking note that he smelled really fresh, especially with the cologne that he regularly uses. You've always forgotten to ask him what scent it was, but it actually suits him a lot.

"This is not fair! You know that I'm not going to push you away if you're going to hug me so tight!" Jungkook pouted.

You nodded, agreeing to what he said. "I'm going to do everything to my best ability to take care of drunk Jungkook. So, you might, as well, stay there so that it won't cause us trouble. I don't wanna get kicked out and banned from this bar, you know. It took us forever to find THE bar," you reminded him as he simply blinked his eyes.

You sighed, wondering if this was your karma coming back to you after you did this to him so many times. After making him promise that he wasn't going to sing or stand on top of the table, you released him from your hold.

One time when the two of you went out for karaoke, he told you that he didn’t sing because his voice was really bad and that it would trigger some pain on his throat, which was why the two of you never went to karaoke after that one time.

"Do you like me?" Jungkook asked, an innocent question it would seem, but for you, it meant something else.

"Of course, I do like you, Jungkook. Why else would I hang out with you always?" You tried to play it cool, but you could feel your heart beating fast. In fact, you were thankful that you weren't hugging him anymore, because he would've definitely noticed that your heart was beating so fast. You knew there was a reason to it, but you didn't want to confirm anything, especially since you didn't want to end your friendship with Jungkook.

"Well, I don't know," he raised his shoulders. "I just wanted to know if you liked me, because well, you see." His words were still slurred, but for some reason, you could feel his sincerity. "Well, I, um, you see, I-"

"You?" Your breath hitched for some reason but you didn't want to overthink. After all, a drunk man was still drunk and he could say the most meaningless things, but at the same time, they did say that drunk words are sober thoughts.

Jungkook opened his mouth, but whatever he was supposed to say was interrupted by the sudden arrival of one of his housemates, Kim Namjoon.

"I didn't know the two of you were here!" Namjoon casually beamed, interrupting whatever Jungkook was about to say. You sighed in relief, though you weren't exactly sure why you felt relieved.

Maybe because you didn't need to confront anything.

"This girl, over here, called me up saying that since her semester is finally over, she gets to celebrate," Jungkook's tone makes it clear to Namjoon that he's clearly smashed, but the other guy simply smiled in response. You swore to God that they spoiled Jungkook so much.

"Your semester's going to end next week, Jungkook. But, they're all papers anyway. So, please let me enjoy this," you muttered as Jungkook simply huffed and pouted, much to the amusement of the older guy.

“But, I’m also celebrating, of course, because BTS just sold a million copies for their latest album,” Jungkook grinned as your eyes widened in surprise.

“Really?” You screeched. “How did you know about that?” You asked him as Jungkook gave a smirk and was about to answer, but Namjoon had beaten him to it.

“Work. There’s going to be an article about it soon.” He forced a smile on his own, but you decided not to push anymore. Maybe because it would’ve costed his company views on their website. Namjoon was working in a digital news company that uploaded their articles online, rather than printing them. So, it shouldn’t be surprising that Namjoon was aware of this kind of information once in a while. After a while, Namjoon excused himself for a moment, heading to the restroom, while you were left with an intoxicated Jungkook who was still far from sobering up.

However, you didn’t expect Jungkook to stand up all of a sudden, much to your surprise. He directed a grin towards you. “I’m craving for lamb skewers. Let’s go no-woah.” Jungkook stumbled on his feet as you immediately tried to help him up. He had an apologetic look on his face. “That must be because I was going to get lamb skewers without my future business partner.”

You scrunched at his obvious reference to Min Yoongi. “I’m pretty sure it’s because you’re drunk right now,” you murmured, but Jungkook’s sharp ears obviously picked up what you just said, even if he was already drunk.

“I’m not drunk!”

“Said every drunk person,” you muttered.

However, he wanted to prove otherwise to you, as he tried to steady himself, holding your cheeks with both of his hands. He leaned closer to you, your faces a few inches away from each other. Your breath hitched on your throat as you realized the proximity of your faces against each other.

“See! I can even stand properly!” He exclaimed in delight at said feat.

You swallowed the growing lump on his throat as you tried to turn away from him, but he had a tight grip on your cheeks. “I-I know. I can see that,” you stuttered, feeling a bit awkward.

“You know, I just realized the you look a lot prettier up close,” he mused out loud as he directed a smile on you, while moving his face closer to yours. You stared back at him as you realized that his eyes were focused straight on yours, as if you felt some sort of affection or attraction (or both) from the way he looked at you. You closed your eyes all of a sudden, a bit unsure on what else you should do. However, what you didn't expect was the sudden heavy weight on your shoulder.

It was Jungkook, all passed out.

You heaved out the breath that you didn’t realize you were holding in the entire time as Namjoon arrived from the restroom and asked what had happened. You immediately passed Jungkook off to the older guy, telling him that you had to go pay the bill. After you paid the bill, Namjoon offered to walk you home, but you shook your head, pointing to Jungkook who was heavy to carry. You could see the hesitation on Namjoon’s face, but you reassured him that you were going to text him when you got home since your house was fortunately just a few blocks away from the bar. You left the two of them as they waited for a cab going home, while you immediately ran on your way home after bidding them (or maybe, just Namjoon) good night.

The reason why you didn’t want Namjoon to send you home was that you didn’t want him to realize that you were trying to calm down your heart that was beating too fast and the butterflies that were fluttering inside your stomach. Plus, you didn’t want to talk to anyone as you tried to process what happened the entire night. Jungkook was probably just drunk, but you had to reflect on what you were actually feeling.

Maybe, it was just the alcohol (you insisted that two bottles was already many). Or the lack of a boyfriend (you’ve never had one since high school). Or the atmosphere since people were making out with each other in the bar you were in (there was that one couple at the side).

Well, it was probably one of those things, since there couldn’t be possibly any other reason for you to feel so flustered by what just transpired.

It didn’t take long for you to reach home since you were running really fast to help yourself sober up. Right after you texted Namjoon that you had arrived home, you immediately passed out on your bed, not even bothering to wash up because you were just too tired to care.

You woke up to the sound of your door opening, since you were always a light sleeper. It was a sheepish-looking Jungkook, who looked all too well and fine, despite the fact that he was practically hammered the previous night. It was just so unfair, especially since you would have been complaining about a hangover right now if you drank as much as he did last night.

“Good morning?” He greeted with an awkward chuckle as he entered your room, freshly cleaned up with a cup of your favorite coffee that he always complained about being overpriced.

You looked down, feeling a bit awkward after the events last night. You honestly did not expect that you would see him in your room as soon as you woke up. Still, you accepted the cup of coffee from him. “It’s surprising that you’re awake when you were really drunk last night.” You gave an awkward laugh, hoping that he wouldn’t sense it, but the cringe on his face told you that he might have.

“I know what I did. And I’m really sorry if I did that,” he apologized in an instant, bowing in a ninety-degree angle, his eyes closed, sincerely hoping that you would forgive him for what he did last night.

Which one, though?

You swallowed the growing lump on your throat, trying to keep down the urge to puke you felt all of a sudden. It was as if the butterflies that you felt fluttering inside your stomach last night died and you had to let them out now as puke.

"It wasn't really anything, you know. I mean, it didn't mean anything to me." You tried to to conceal the complex emotions you were feeling at the moment, knowing that you didn’t want to destroy the friendship you had with Jungkook.

"I know it wasn't. I mean, it was your favorite bar and if I continued with whatever drunk Jungkook wanted to do, you might have been banned forever from the bar. So, thank you for stopping me from doing anything reckless."

What did he just say? You blinked your eyes for a moment as you turned back to your college best friend, realizing that what he might be referring to wasn't what you thought.

"I was going to stand on the table, right? And shout at other people? That's obviously really embarrassing. I can't remember anything from last night, but thank you for stopping drunk Jungkook from whatever. You're definitely the best!" He grinned, raising his thumbs up towards your direction.

Suddenly, the urge to puke went away. And at the same time, you couldn't help yourself from teasing him. "Well, drunk Jungkook was certainly really funny last night. He might have told me a few things that I don't want to forget."

Suddenly, the last words he told you before he passed out went through your head again, making you blush in an instant.

“You know, I just realized the you look a lot prettier up close.”

"Wait. What? What did I say?" Jungkook started to panic as you gave a nervous chuckle. You could see a dreadful expression appearing on his face, probably from whatever thing he imagined telling you. You smiled to yourself, knowing that this was your way for getting back at him for making you feel so flustered the night before.

"Who knows, Kookie. Who knows."

#bangtanwriters-net #btswriters #bts writing squad #bangtan bookclub #jungkook fluff #jeon jungkook #jungkook scenarios #jungkook fic #jeon jungkook fluff #jeon jungkook scenarios #jeon jungkook reader #band!jk #kim namjoon #rap monster #namjoon

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aiimaginesbts · 7 years

Text

Temptation: Chapter 1 (M)

Based on this request for a lovely anon. Enjoy it mate ;)

Moodboard

Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Werewolf! Jungkook, smut

Word count: 4,126 words

Chapter 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 (Final)

Disclaimer/Copyright

Bang. Bang. Bang.

“Jungkook!”

No answer.

BANG. BANG. BANG.

“Jungkook!”

Still no answer. You didn’t care that an old lady walking behind you gave you a very dirty look before shuffling down the corridor to her own apartment. It was only the manners instilled by your parents that stopped you from shooting daggers right back at her.

BANG! BANG! BANG!

“JEON JUNGKOOK! Open the fucking door right now or I -”

Your shouts as well as your fist froze in mid-air when the door whipped open to reveal the man whose name you’d been yelling at the top of your lungs.

“Why the hell are you banging my door down?” Jungkook’s frown and his tone told you that he was irritated, which fueled your anger even more. He had no right to be annoyed at you after the shit he had put you through today.

“Why weren’t you at work?” You managed to lower your volume now that there wasn’t a door separating the two of you, but you made sure that he knew how angry you were.

“I took a day off, but I’m sure you could have gotten that information from the HR.”

His flippant answer didn’t impress you one bit. “You know that isn’t what I’m talking about.”

“Then what are you talking about?” The question came out sounding incredulous, but you didn’t miss the uncomfortable shuffling of the guilty man. He knew what you were talking about. Before you could point it out, however, a high-pitched woman’s voice called from inside his apartment.

“Who’s at the door, babe? Come back to bed, I can’t wait anymore!”

Jungkook jerked the door towards the frame to a minimal crack, as if it could make you unhear the mysterious female. On the other hand, you didn’t acknowledge his gesture. Your brain was too busy trying to school your features into a furious scowl while your heart dropped to your feet. Does Jungkook have a girlfriend?

It took a few seconds to bring yourself back to the matter at hand and steer away from your crush. Reminding yourself of the disastrous day at work, you managed to ground out, “You took a day off work to have a play date with your girlfriend?!”

“She’s not my girlfriend,” he said in hushed tones in direct contrast to your angry volume. “She’s just… someone a friend introduced me to.”

Your heart started beating hopefully again at the explanation. Not that him having a girl over was something you were happy about, but you were so into him that you’d take it over him being in a relationship. You’d never tell him that though. Not in a million years. “Great, so you abandoned me at work so you could fuck this girl your friend threw your way?” The thought of you being judgmental and unfair to this unknown girl crossed your mind but you quickly pushed it aside. Jungkook didn’t seem to mind your choice words about her. The first part of your sentence seemed to interest him more.

“Abandoned you? What are you talking a - oh.” The opening of the door widened as he smacked his palm to his forehead. “I was so preoccupied that I forgot. The presentation was today, wasn’t it?”

Satisfied that you had gotten through to him, you braced your legs apart, crossed your arms under your chest and nodded. A small crinkle formed between his brows as the stance made your chest more prominent but it escaped your notice.

Scant moments passed while Jungkook chewed on the inside of his lower lip, gazing at you intensely, then he sighed. “I’m sorry. I should explain. No sense going through with this now that you’re in front of me.”

The odd combination of words made you go, “Huh?” But he wasn’t paying attention. Yanking the door open to the fullest extent, he gestured you to step inside. You did, but you didn’t venture further because he immediately walked away into what you assumed to be his bedroom. It didn’t seem polite to make yourself at home when he hadn’t really welcomed you. Contrary to this, however, you strained to listen to the conversation going on in his bedroom. Jungkook’s words were too soft to be heard but the shrill voice of the girl was hard to miss.

“Why do I have to leave? We haven’t even done anything yet!”

Several seconds passed while he made his excuses.

“Who is that bitch? Just send her away. You know you want this baby. I can get you hard again in no time.”

Indignation filled you at the term she used to refer to you followed by disgust and disappointment at her words. Were you going to have to stand here and listen to them fuck? God, you sincerely hoped not.

“Fine!” She huffed as she stormed out of the room. You were glad to see that she was fully clothed. Perhaps they really hadn’t gotten to do anything before you came. That being said, she wasn’t dressed in much. Her skirt was so short, her ass threatened to make an appearance and her large breasts bounced heavily, nipples pushing against her skintight shirt, proving that she wasn’t wearing a bra.

Unlike you, she didn’t bother taking your appearance in. Giving you a look that was ten times dirtier than the one the old lady shot you earlier, she swept past you, slipped into her four-inch stilettos and headed out. You felt a little bad for causing her to get kicked out, then reminded yourself the mess Jungkook left you in earlier and the nagging feeling disappeared.

“How long are you going to stand in my doorway?”

Blinking, you wrenched your eyes away from the door to see an amused Jungkook. At his request, you closed the door and took a seat on the sofa in his living room. You expected him to join you but he leaned against the kitchen counter a ways away, facing you.

“How was the presentation?” He began without much preamble.

You winced inwardly. Despite it being the reason you were here, somehow you’d been hoping that he wouldn’t ask you that. “It was catastrophic.”

“It couldn’t have been that bad. You had all the materials. The slides have been ready since last week.”

Closing your eyes, you tried to recall the incident objectively. “I got all the points across, but the delivery left much to be desired.”

“I’m sure you did a lot better than you think.”

It was probably his kind smile that made you feel patronised and got you riled up again. Having worked in the company for several years already, Jungkook must have forgotten how difficult it was to be a newbie. Besides, you were sure that he hadn’t had to give an impromptu presentation when he had only been working a few months. Although you had helped him prepare for it, you were certainly not expecting him to be absent on the day of the presentation, leaving you to stutter and fumble your way through it. There was no doubt in your mind that you had made a fool of yourself in front of the bigwigs.

Normally your ego would have prevented you from telling anyone any of this but Jungkook had taken you under his wing the day you started at the company and you were comfortable with him. Of course the fact that you had a major crush on him dampened your desire to admit your shortcomings to him but you spilled your thoughts on the presentation before you could stop yourself.

“It still doesn’t sound too bad,” he said reassuringly after you were done embarrassing yourself for the second time today.

“You weren’t there,” you muttered, but digressed. “So why did you take the day off?”

“I didn’t take just today off, you know,” he dodged. You did know, but it was today that bothered you the most. “I suppose there’s no point telling you that I’m not feeling well.” At your skeptically-raised eyebrow, he rubbed the back of his neck, then sighed and continued, “Having someone in my bed may make it seem like I’m not feeling under the weather but it is actually true in a sense. What do you think of werewolves?”

The sudden unexpected question threw you for a loop. “Uh, dangerous-sounding mythical creatures?”

A smirk tugged at his lips at your answer. “What if I told you that they exist?”

“I’d say nothing is impossible,” you shrugged.

“And if I told you that I am a werewolf?”

You scoffed at that. “Come on, Jungkook. I think I’ve been treated like an imbecile enough times today.”

His expression turned dark at your accusation. “On the contrary, it’s because I think you’re smart and I trust you that I’m telling you this.”

Surprised by his reaction, you said, “Okay, suppose that you’re telling me the truth. What does it have to do with you bailing on me at work today?”

“Well, you see…” you were amused to see him stick his hands into the front pockets of his jeans, the confident senior from work disappearing to reveal a hesitant persona you had never seen before. It was cute. “You know some animals go through heat, right? It’s the same for us. Usually I take some days off to… vent it out, but I do pop into work if there are urgent matters to be taken care of, such as that presentation. It’s more difficult to do this year, though.”

“Why is this year more difficult?”

“You started working there,” he replied simply.

You bristled at his allegation. “How is this my fault?”

“No, it’s not your fault,” his hands flew up in a feeble attempt to placate you. “At least it’s not anything you’ve done. It’s just that I can’t stand to see you with other guys. It makes me want to pull you away and rip their heads off.” The last part of the sentence was said with great vehemence and it made your heart skip a beat. “It’s crazy, especially when you’re not even my girlfriend. Although I know it’s inappropriate behaviour, I can’t help it when I’m like this.”

This was absurd. “There were other women in the department before I came along. Yet you didn’t have a problem coming in to work when you needed to before!”

“Those are other women. They’re different,” he said exasperatedly. “They’re not you!”

Everything he had told you was too much for you to process and absorb all at once. Your mind, no doubt guided by your heart, latched onto his declaration that you were different to him. You were special. “So…” you began, but you had no idea what to say, and the word trailed off weakly.

Silence ensued, but even though the moment was charged, somehow it didn’t feel uncomfortable. Unconsciously your eyes wandered over his body. The short sleeves of his shirt allowed you to follow the veins running down his thick arms towards his hands that you’d always admired from afar. Said hands had been shoved back into the pockets of his jeans. They added to the bulk of the trousers caused the material to strain and make you realise that his work clothes didn’t do him justice. Much like his long-sleeved, loose shirts that he wore in the office, his baggy slacks didn’t highlight his thick thighs. You wondered how something as simple as clothes could hide such a delicious specimen so well.

Then you had the sense to remind yourself that Jungkook wasn’t a piece of meat. The reason you fell for him was because of his sweet, kind personality, coupled with your admiration for his drive and passion. He never failed to make you feel welcome to share your thoughts and opinions, that no question was stupid and your ideas were always valued. No one had ever made you feel as comfortable as Jungkook did. So you forced yourself to tear your gaze away from his perfect body to look at his face.

Boy oh boy, you were even less prepared for the sight that met you than you were for that presentation at work. The cute face that you had always needed to restrain yourself from pinching was now anything but. He wore such an intense look in his eyes as he stared you down. You opened your mouth to attempt to say something but words were beyond you, so you sat there gaping like a goldfish, which didn’t seem to cool his gaze at all.

Gulping down a large amount of saliva, you choked out, “Should I call that girl back to uh, help you with your… heat?”

He shook his head with certainty. “I told you, there’s no point in being with her after I’ve seen you. You’re all I want now.” Before you could let it sink in, he reassured you, “Don’t worry about me. I’ll take care of myself somehow. You should leave now though.”

You nodded very slowly, as if agreeing to his suggestion when you’re really giving a chance for the gears in your head to churn out a solution. It was clear that he wanted the very same thing you desired. How to go about it was the one thing you weren’t sure of - then you focused on what he had just said and stood up.

Jungkook’s face dropped, thinking that you were taking his advice to leave. It quickly turned into an expression of surprise when you sauntered towards him instead of the door, doing your best to appear alluring and enticing.

“What are you doing?” His voice had dropped an octave like it sometimes did when his authority was challenged at work. It didn’t deter you in the least. “Don’t tempt me.”

“Oh, but I am tempting you,” you answered with a cheeky smile as your toes knocking into his halted you. At this distance it was clear that he was not the Jungkook you were accustomed to. His furrowed brow and narrowed eyes were predatory yet there was nervousness behind the brown irises. A thin sheen of sweat covered his skin, which you now noticed was hotter than a boiling furnace. Normally you’d jump away from such heat but instead you leaned closer to feel the insistent bulge in his pants pressing against your stomach.

He let out a shallow breath that was shaky and broken. “If you keep doing this I won’t be able to hold myself back any longer.”

Since the day you started at the firm, you’d been pining for him. This was the first time he showed any signs of reciprocation; you’d always thought that your infatuation was one-sided. You wanted to push him to see how far he would go. To see if what he said about being in heat and crazy for you was the truth. “I don’t want you to hold back.”

“What about that guy who always flirts with you at work?” He asked despite himself.

Trying to harness your brain back to reality long enough to think, you answered, “you mean Jin?”

It didn’t go unnoticed by you that the mere mention of Jin’s name had Jungkook curling up his hands into tight fists, pushing his arousal even tighter in its confines. The chocolate of his eyes flashed yellow for a split-second, surprising you. “Don’t say his name,” he snarled.

Possessive boyfriends had proven to be repulsive for you before this. However, the fact that Jungkook tried his best to reign it in despite wanting you for himself endeared him to you. A part of you questioned if he would be this overprotective all the time if he was your boyfriend but your lust prevented you from caring too much. You quickly decided to trust in your gut instincts and his track record of not showing any hint of aggressiveness these past few months. “I don’t care about him. I only want you, Jungkook.”

Hearing his name upon your lips like that was all it took for his brittle control to snap. With a growl, his large hands flew to cup your jaw and lead your lips towards his. Your first kiss with him was not soft and romantic. It was hungry, animalistic and oh so good. Any doubts you had were thrown right out of your head and you let your inhibitions go, giving yourself permission to explore every part of his upper body your hands could reach.

His own hands had left your face to travel down your back until he cupped your ass. Squeezing your ass cheeks in his large hands, he methodically rubbed you against his clothed erection, eliciting a gasp from you and a groan from him at the contact.

“Oh my God, Jungkook,” you said breathlessly. You were basically dry humping him against his kitchen counter but you didn’t care and neither did he. It could go on forever and you would die happy just like that but he had other ideas. Shifting his palms down to the back of your thighs, he hoisted you up to straddle his waist. With a grunt, he pushed himself off of the cold marble and hurried towards his bedroom.

However, instead of walking through the door, he slammed you against the wall next to it. You had no idea if it was intentional or not but you were spared from asking when he lifted your modest, knee-length skirt up to bunch at your waist. The black lacy panties covering the proof of your excitement was ripped off your body in a show of inhuman strength. It didn’t matter, the material was probably so soiled with your juices that it was already ruined anyway. You’d have covered your reddened face and shrivel with embarrassment when Jungkook looked down at the blatant display of your desire but your hands were holding onto his firm shoulders for support.

Bracing your back against the wall, he reached under your thigh to rub his fingers through your folds. You moaned as you felt the rough pads gather your wetness before two fingers pushed into your core. “Fuck, you’re tight,” he commented, rotating his fingers inside you to stretch you out before pumping them in and out of you. “Unbutton your blouse,” he commanded and you didn’t hesitate to obey. The buttons quickly became undone and a matching black bra was revealed to him. Without further prompting, you tugged the cups down so your breasts popped out of the confines of the bra.

Jungkook hummed appreciatively at your wanton behaviour and rewarded you by instantly dipping his head to suck on a nipple. He wasn’t gentle but you enjoyed it all the more because of it. Releasing your sensitive peak with a loud pop, he then teasingly blew warm air over the saliva-coated nipple, making you shudder and mewl before repeating his ministrations on the other one. When he began moving his digits inside your sopping pussy in a scissoring motion, you threw your head back and begged him to stop. Your insincere pleading was met with outright refusal. “I’m going to fuck your pussy raw,” his voice now was so raspy and desperate, completely unlike himself that you shivered with anticipation. “You have to be prepared for it.”

The continued stimulation to your delicate areas soon fogged your vision and clouded your mind. Sharp nails dug into his back as your body trembled, then shook when he brought you to your climax. The squelching sounds coming from your nether regions increased in volume as he helped you ride the waves of your orgasm until your body stopped shaking.

However, before you could calm yourself down completely, he gathered you back into his arms and marched into his bedroom, stopping by the edge of his bed. He lowered you down onto it and swiftly undid his pants. You tentatively reached for the jutting cock pushing against his boxers, intending to return the favour but he stopped you.

“Get on your hands and knees,” he ordered brusquely.

“But what about you?”

“I’ve been raring to go ever since you stepped foot into my house,” he explained even as you turned around to do as he said. Your position on all fours on the edge of the bed deprived you of the unveiling of his cock. When you heard the shuffle of clothes being dropped onto the floor, you twisted your head back curiously.

The gasp that escaped your mouth was an involuntary reaction to the sight. You almost wished you hadn’t seen it. Almost, but not quite. Jungkook hadn’t been lying. His erection looked painfully hard, the precum leaking from the dark tip indicating that he was more than ready to go. The vein that ran along the length of his shaft reminded you of the snaking blood vessels on his arms. You briefly wondered if his cock was anywhere as powerful as his arms were. Then his hands were gripping your hips to help him guide his member towards your entrance, and all you could do was focus on your breathing.

Both of you groaned when he pushed the engorged head into your wet heat, followed by the slow entry of the rest of him until he bottomed out inside you. You had never felt so full in your life before. The inner muscles of your pussy were pulsing erratically around his cock and you marveled at his ability to pause so you could adjust to his invasion.

“Are you okay?” His whisper in your ear was taut and tense. It brought a small, happy smile upon your lips that he couldn’t see.

“Yes, I’m fine.”

His grip on you tightened as he straightened up to an upright position. “Tell me if it’s too much for you and I’ll stop,” he instructed. You nodded your understanding eagerly. With your agreement, he pulled back until only the head remained inside, then slammed all the way back in one thrust.

The sudden movement made you yelp but there was no stopping him now. He set a rapid pace right off the bat. Each thrust was just as powerful as the last. You’d heard of the phrase ‘getting your brains fucked out’ and now you understood it completely. A cry of pleasure rang out every time he pounded mercilessly into you. He was clutching onto you with such force you were sure that you’d end up with bruises but you couldn’t care less. All you could think about was how his cock was grazing against the walls of your pussy. You could swear that every bit of friction created a spark that would ultimately set you ablaze.

It didn’t take long for the tightening coil in your belly to warn you about your impending orgasm. Jungkook could feel it too. The tightening of your narrow channel threatened to push him to ejaculation but he didn’t let up. On the contrary, he bent down over you, your name coming out like a mantra interlaced with random insertions of colourful swear words and loud sniffs of your neck. He tried to hold himself back from coming even as he increased his speed to one that no ordinary human could manage.

For the first time, you came only from penetration. His name came out in a loud scream as you came hard, your vision turning white, holding onto his bed sheets for dear life. The moment you reached your high, Jungkook’s thrusts intensified, bordering on brutal as he pushed himself over the edge while you were still contracting hard around his cock. His tongue lapped hungrily at the junction between your neck and shoulder, growling and whining much like a dog being denied a treat.

His orgasm hit him hard. You could feel his violent release into you, hot and thick. He almost collapsed on top of you before letting your waist go to catch himself by placing his hands on the bed. You wouldn’t have complained even if he did, but he decided to wrap his arm around you and drag your limp body to lie properly on his bed.

Even after his heart rate had slowed down to normal, your body was still experiencing slight tremors from the force of your release. Your back was pressed hard to his chest, his tight embrace making you feel protected and loved. As you leisurely made your way back down to earth from the trip to heavens that he took you to, his continuous lapping at your neck called for your attention.

“Jungkook, not that I mind, but why do you seem fixated on my neck?”

You could feel his lips carve into a smile against your shoulder at the question. His response was a sleepy, contented hum. “I think that’s a story for next time.”

#bts writing squad #armiesnet #noonanet #bangtan bookclub #bts smut #jungkook smut #bts scenarios #jungkook scenarios

2K notes · View notes

omniswords · 7 years

Text

Keep What Remains, Part I [Gladiolus Amicitia/Reader]

"What do you think about holding onto something when you've lost everything else?"

Remember how Gladio mentioned getting a girlfriend during all those years of darkness? Here's how that happened. Spoilers up to Chapter 13 of the game, so proceed with caution!

Alternatively, [It’s Always Sunny Title Card] Gladiolus Gets A Lady

Not my first FFXV fic, but the first one I’ve posted to this account! I also uh. hear tagging people is a thing if that’s okay ;;??? So I’ll tag people whose stuff I’ve been lurking around!! @blindbae, @cupnoodle-queen, @louisvuittontrashbags, @hypaalicious, @diabolik-trash-heap, @themissimmortal and @nifwrites, if this tickles your fancy. Anyway, hope you enjoy! 💕

It started with a book and some morbid curiosity. Because didn’t it always with you? From the womb to the tomb, that was how you were about these things.

To be fair, maybe it was a bit of prejudice on your part as well—maybe not the kind that got people hurt, or worse, but a judgment call was a judgment call, poor or otherwise. You just… weren’t expecting to see some burly hunter who looked like he could probably crush another man treating the pages of a worn paperback like an infant. It was almost paradoxical, how he was perched on a bench with the book cradled in one hand, reading by the glow of a Lestallum streetlight and looking far too absorbed to just be passing the time between bounties. If anything, he looked like a professor in hunter’s clothing. (You could have waxed something poetic about how they weren’t all that different, but your brain was too fried at this time of night for that.)

That was your first mistake. The assumption.

Mistake Number Two was walking past him instead of taking the usual back-alley to your apartment. And Mistake Number Two and a Half was catching sight of the book. Well, truthfully, you couldn’t say you just caught sight of it. It was more like you were outright staring at it, trying to make out the title in the dim light, and the heroic stance of the boy on the cover, and—

And oh, gods. He looked up from the book. He was staring at you. One of the stupidly endearing, curious little things that said, How can I help you? instead of, Do you mind?

So you did the first thing you could think of. You straightened up, and cleared your throat, and took a sudden, burning interest in your shoes. (You never said it was the best thing you could think of. Just the first thing.)

“Um. It’s a good book,” you told him, not sure whether to wince at the way your voice cracked, or the nervous laugh you let out after. Which, well—you could have said something more riveting. But to be fair, you could have said something you know you would have agonized over till your dying breath, so you had to give yourself some credit.

The man didn’t say anything at first, and when you looked back up to question the silence, he was still staring at you. Was the guy trying to intimidate you into explaining yourself? Or had he literally forgotten how to speak? Or oh, oh no, what if he couldn’t talk, or couldn’t hear you? You’d heard stories about that one hunter, an alleged member of the old Crownsguard who they said had gone blind by Leviathan

“You’ve read it before?”

You blinked, snapping yourself back to reality. Or rather, his voice pulled you back, like an anchor or a tether, deep and gravelly and warm enough to ground you again. (Was it Mistake Number Three to let it envelop you that easily?) “Yeah!” Admittedly, you sounded a little more excited than you should have, so you decided to dial it back, awkwardly rubbing your neck in apology. “The whole series, actually. There’s six of them, did you know? They’re… pretty clever, if you pay really close attention to all the myths and stuff. Even the number’s clever, considering… you know… the Six.”

Yeah. So much for dialing it back.

For some blessed reason, he didn’t seem to mind your rambling. In fact, he looked kind of amused, and he sat up straight and closed the book. “Guess I’ll have to look out for the sequels, huh?”

You blurted out your name and a hasty Nice to meet you after a pause that you hoped hadn’t run on too long. “You don’t look like you’re from around here,” you added. “Then again… nobody’s really from around here these days. They just kind of… trickle in.”

The man gave a solemn nod, as if to say he was from a lot of places. Too many places, maybe. Too many thoughts, too. But then he held out his hand, and—had his eyes always been that brilliant a shade of brown? Like amber, almost; you’d never seen anything like them, except in stone. “Gladiolus,” was all he said. “Gladio, if that’s a mouthful.”

It kind of was, but you couldn’t help but give him a smile. “Gladiolus, like the flower? Or Gladiolus, like the weapon?”

Slowly, a grin spread across his face, almost matching yours, as he took your hand and shook it. It nearly smothered yours, warm and firm with years of experience, and he looked almost reluctant when he pulled it away to pat the empty space on the bench in invitation. “Looks can be deceiving, y’know.”

You talked a while longer under the glow of the streetlight, long after people had turned in for the ceaseless night. You told him you were from the southern part of Cleigne, that your family was built on fishing and open air markets, so the bustle of Lestallum was a familiarity that quickly became home. (“So what do you do?” he asked, and let out a single, surprised laugh when you told him you were a tutor.)

In turn, Gladio told you that he was a hunter, as if his entire appearance hadn’t given him away at first glance. The dark clothes, the leather gloves, the greatsword he kept at his side. Even the feathery spread of ink along his arms seemed to precede him; for a moment, you had to wonder just how far the tattoo reached. Still, he went on that it was what he’d spent his days doing since the darkness began six years back, and even before then. Because he could fight, and who was he to sit idly by if he knew he could do something about it? It seemed… noble of him, to put his life down so easily every day. Like he was trained to do it.

“Got a sister who’s a hunter, too,” he said before you could entertain the thought any further. “She’ll be twenty-one soon.”

“And you?”

“Just turned twenty-nine, couple weeks back,” he said, worth enough to mention but not enough to celebrate. Like there was something else twenty-nine-year-olds were supposed to be doing instead of wasting away their lives beating off the byproducts on an indefinite darkness. Somehow a belated Happy Birthday, seemed all too inappropriate, for all the pleasantry behind it.

“Sounds like the hunting thing runs in the family,” you said instead.

“Protection runs in the family,” Gladio replied, almost a murmur, almost like you weren’t meant to hear him. For a flicker of a moment, his hands looked and moved as old and as weathered as the book they held. But he seemed to straighten up again, and added, “You said you’re from southern Cleigne? You might know her. She used to live near there—that old white house at Caem, near the lighthouse? Brown hair, about your height. Big smile.”

Your jaw dropped. “You’re Iris’s brother?”

He grinned. “So I can take that as a yes?”

So you talked about Iris, and the weird coincidence of having never run into each other all those years ago. And you probably talked even longer for it, because for some reason it was always easier to talk about other people than about yourself. He told you snippets about their childhood, things that toed the line of embarrassing but wouldn’t warrant a smack if she ever got wind of it. You told him about how her penchant for moogles far outweighed her sense of care for Algebra. (He laughed, and didn’t seem surprised. “Yeah, that never really went away.”)

And then you mentioned that she never did say where she was from, exactly; she just showed up one day, tending to some carrots and a stray cat and announcing that her “haphazard little family” had just come here from Lestallum. “I’d ask, but she sort of… dropped off the face of technology a while back.” You managed a laugh. “Guess now I know why, right?”

Gladio’s laugh matched yours: soft, and short, and almost lifeless. “Maybe it’s a good thing she didn’t.” A pause. “It’s hard, thinking of where we’re from.”

“Would you tell me?”

“You’re still a stranger to me, practically.”

“What if I don’t want to be a stranger to you?”

He stopped, and sat back. And then forward. Back, and forward. Different positions of thinking. How long was he a stranger to this kind of interaction, if he had to stay thinking this long? All those six years? Longer than that? He wasn’t that alone in the world, was he? All that dark. All that quiet. One book, and one sword, to keep him company.

He looked up, out toward the street—the guardrail, the stone spiral staircase that led to the view over the gorge. (Like that meant anything anymore.) “I have a hunt tomorrow,” he finally said, pocketing his book. “One of those iron giants keeps croppin’ up nearby.”

You swore you felt your heart sink into all the boldness you thought you had. “Oh. Right.” Kings would be dead kings. Princes would be vanished princes. Hunters would be hunters, all work and no play. Work logic. You knew it well enough.

He was still staring at the guardrail. Then he nodded toward a white truck close by, opened up in the back with steam rising from the doors. “Afterwards,” he added, “I’ll meet you there.”

He rose to his feet then, patting himself down as if checking for his belongings, and he was grinning again. “Y’know,” he said, “It’s dangerous, walking around at this hour. Can’t in good conscience leave a girl to walk home alone at night.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Gladio, it’s always night.”

His smile only grew wider. “I know.”

———

Gladio didn’t, in good conscience, leave you to walk home alone. In fact, he walked beside you, at a steady, almost languid pace, with his thumbs tucked into his jacket pockets. Duty-bound, almost. Like a guard. Like he’d been bred for it. He absolutely towered next to you—which most people already tended to do, considered how short you were, but he was in a league all his own.

“How… tall are you, anyway?” It was a ridiculous way to break the silence, and you winced at your own impulse. Really rubbing in that good first impression, you were.

Gladio rubbed the back of his neck in thought. “Something like six-six, last I checked.” He must have seen your eyes widen, because he barked out a single, hearty laugh and added, “Yeah. I get that a lot. Iris is kind of a munchkin next to me. Works out, though, whenever we get to hunt together.” He gave a noncommittal shrug, and looked to recede into himself in some strong-and-silent way. Something that said his lack of words wasn’t due to a lack of confidence.

“I meant to ask about that, actually.”

He shot a glance your way. “About what? Iris?”

“About hunting.”

“What, you wanna join?”

“No, nothing like that. It’s just…” You scuffed your heel against the cobblestones and gestured vaguely toward your neck. “Usually hunters have those dog tag things on them. They make a pretty big deal of them. I’ve heard talk about it in town—someone freaked out because they lost theirs one time.” The more you talked, the less of a good idea it seemed to talk. “Do you just, not have one? Or choose not to wear it?”

In response, Gladio reached up to touch his own pendant—a small wooden X. You wondered if it meant anything; they looked awfully similar to some prayer beads you’d seen once. Maybe he was one for prayers as much as he was one for books. Or for stamping out judgment calls made in the middle of the night. “Never really thought to have one made, I guess. Never saw a reason to.”

“Well, what are they for?”

“To be known. Or, I guess, to be remembered by.” His hands curled into loose fists, and his gaze hardened under the intermittent stream of the streetlamps and house lights. “Kinda messed up, isn’t it,” he said, “that those things have more value to you when you’re not even around to take it in.”

Now you really knew that talking had been a bad idea. A quiet apology tumbled from your lips, and you took solace in the sound of your footfalls, the ebbing conversations of those you passed by. Gladio took his usual pace at your side, and you couldn’t help but feel his gaze on you every so often. You didn’t even have to look. All you had to do was feel.

He followed you to your doorstep without another word, apparently comfortable in all that city quiet, and made sure you found your apartment without a hitch. It was… strangely relieving, knowing someone wanted you home safe. Even if it was someone you’d only met a few hours ago. Had it really been hours?

“For what it’s worth,” you murmured as you turned the key in its lock, “I can think of two people who’d want to remember you. Maybe value you while you’re still here. That’s not so messed up, is it?”

“Who’s the second person?” he asked.

While your keys still dangled in the deadbolt, a smile crept across your face. All kinds of knowing. All kinds of well-meaning. All kinds of promising. “Good night, Gladio,” was all you said, and you could have sworn you saw a spark in his eyes, wide and near-amber in all that light, before the door closed behind you.

———

He wasn’t there when you got to the bench the next night.

Of course, logically that probably meant that the hunt was taking longer than usual—you’d heard talk from hunter who stopped by about how nasty the jobs could be sometimes, and you’d seen plenty of daemons on the frantic drive up from the south. But there was still a crestfallen, pessimistic, anxious part of you that thought that maybe he’d forgotten about you. Or that the whole thing was a joke. Because really, what could he have possibly seen in you, aside from an association with his no-longer-a-kid kid sister? (And was that even worth it?) Of course he was out of your league. Of course he was helping polite conversation along, or just chatting you up to prove that he could.

And yet, here you were, with your nose in a book of poetry, sitting on the bench with your legs crossed. Stupidly wishing those thoughts would recognize their own ugliness and disappear. Stupidly hoping you’d look up and find him casually towering over you, one eyebrow raised in curiosity as he tried to read upside-down. Even the fact that you were entertaining that specific of a mental image seemed too absurd to bear.

When was the last time you were even this hung up on a boy? Or hung up at all? You didn’t want to think about it. Instead, you hunched over with the book in your hands and your elbows digging into your knees, reading the same poem over and over. Like this, it was only a swimming together of words, instead of a string of meaning.

You lost track of just how long you stayed like that, but soon enough, you caught a figure shifting out of the corner of your eye, and you looked up. Do you mind? instead of Can I help you? And instantly regretted it.

Because it was Gladio standing there, bending over with his hands in the pockets of his green leather jacket, peeking at the cover of your book with a knowing grin. Sure, it wasn’t the exact image you had in mind, and sure, maybe he was poking a little fun at you for the night before. But you couldn’t deny the relief that seeped into your blood—squeezed in between receding anxiety and the guilt at every ugly thought that had crossed your mind before.

“Can’t in good conscience leave a girl to walk home alone at night,” you teased, snapping the book shut and tucking it into your bag, “but you can in good conscience leave her to wonder if you stood her up?”

“Ouch.” Gladio laughed. “Guess now’s as good a time as any to get your number then, huh?”

You probably would have rolled your eyes if you hadn’t been so mesmerized by how absently he managed to tie his hair into a half-ponytail, fingers catching along his beard on the way down. “Of course.”

He grinned. “Of course.” He didn’t seem like one for dramatic or flourishing motions, but here he was, offering his arm to you in a bow, one eyebrow raised in invitation. “Ready to get going? Can’t keep a lady waiting any longer than she already has, y’know.”

It shouldn’t have made you giggle like you were back in your teenage years, peeking around corners and sighing wistfully against rows of locker doors. But it did, and you could have sworn you saw Gladio’s eyes light up all the more for it. You might have thought this was something he did every day, or at least every opportunity he got, and so easily too, if not for that. Slowly, you got to your feet, taking his arm and looking everywhere but at him; it was hard enough reconciling the pliancy of his words to the solidity of his muscle in your grip. The flower and the weapon, all at once. “Guess I’ll have to oblige,” you told him. “At least for Iris.”

Gladio was still smiling. “At least for Iris.”

Two ordinary people standing on the outskirts of a restlessly sleepy city, like you stood at the edge of the world. Walking in streetlight like a tightrope between reality and infinity. Two almost-friends, arm-in-arm, arguing over whether eggs in ramen should be scrambled or poached, or whether a caesura meant more than an enjambment. One hand slipping down to take another without thought, a foot falling out of line after a particularly hearty shove, and a thousand touches exchanged with every look.

That was all this piece of night gave you.

For now, that was all you needed from it.

#gladiolus amicitia #gladio x reader #ffxv reader insert #ffxv headcanons #ffxv scenario #ffxv spoilers #fic: keep what remains

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nike-shawn · 7 years

Text

set .

sorry this is long - i’m combining like three of your requests bc i feel so bad about taking forever to address them. i promise though, this weekend is going to be filled with like 39082340 filled requests. pinky swear. [send a request here]

“It wasn’t even funny,” Shawn mumbles under his breath. He’s playing idly with the bottom of his flannel as his forehead creases in thought. His feet are planted on the floor as he sits on the side of your bed, but one leg refuses to stop bouncing up and down. “Like, why would anyone laugh at you getting seriously injured? It’s fucked up.”

You sigh from your place in front of the mirror, but you’re too preoccupied to argue with him; your hands are busy putting your perfectly curled hair into a messy bun at the top of your head, a few stubborn strands falling to frame your face, and you feel more like yourself when you turn around to face your husband. All the makeup had been taken off the second you stepped foot in the house and you changed into sweats on the car ride home. You claim that set clothes have a certain smell to them, an undeniable stench that makes you feel uncomfortable, but Shawn thinks you just like to shed work off your shoulders as soon as possible, that maybe you like to differentiate between home and studio because you’re afraid the character you play will melt into what you become outside of the screen.

Watching you walk towards him, Shawn leans back so his spine is flush against the mattress and holds his arms out: an invitation. You smile and occupy the space between his spread knees, belly pressed against his, forearms digging into your duvet and mouths perfectly lined up. His gaze darts between your eyes and your mouth like he can’t quite figure out which one is prettier. “They were just bloopers,” you whisper, “no harm done.”

Shawn closes his eyes and tilts his head back. There’s a short pause, a pause in which you study the chap of his lips as he listens to you breathe, feels your chest rise and fall into his. He says, “doesn’t mean it wasn’t scary for me,” and it’s in such a soft voice that you wonder if it was actually Shawn who said it. Hearing him be vulnerable isn’t something you have the opportunity to do very often, and every time he offers a small piece of himself to you, you’re always surprised. The insecure little girl who never dreamt of dating someone like him still peeks through.

You let his hand tilt your head down just enough so your lips are grazing, and when they’re pressed together it feels like puzzle pieces sliding together. His hips rise to grind against yours and you move to meet his thrusts. As the bedsprings squeak, you feel like a teenager again.

And then, of course, everything stops.

“What?” you ask breathlessly, pushing away from his body to look at him properly. His flushed cheeks and bitten lips make your heart skip a beat. “Are you okay?”

Shawn pats your bum and you get up, sitting beside him with your arm already reaching towards his shoulder to comfort him. He shifts away from you and stands, hands shoved in his pockets. He’s still for a while, his back facing you, thinking. And when he finally speaks you’re taken aback. “I’m worried about your job if Kerrie thinks that you honestly getting hurt is funny,” Shawn tells you. It’s no secret that he and your Director haven’t gotten along, but it’s also no secret that Shawn isn’t a big fan of your current character. Someone who always hurts herself, someone who is always the butt of the jokes, and you, the love of his life, is the one who’s playing her. It’s understandable, but it’s also your job.

Earlier that day, Shawn came to set because he’s finally home for the first time in three months, and he was already driving by the studio on his way home from a meeting. With coffees in hand, he sauntered up to your trailer and chatted with you, kissed you, until there was a stern knock on the door.

“Y/N? You were supposed to be on set ten minutes ago,” the voice through the door boomed, “get your lazy ass out here.”

Shawn told you to “stay, Y/N, she’s treating you like shit,” but you did as you were told because you’re constantly in fear of losing your fragile job. You asked him to zip up your costume and give you a kiss, but he only did one, leaving you without reddened lips or a smile.

So now, sitting on your bed with a bare face and tangled hair, you feel like your heart is being split in two. Your job, or your husband. He said that “I’m not mad at you,” but you could hear the anger in his voice and it made the guilt in your chest multiply tenfold.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.”

“But I am,” you say, standing and weaseling your way under his strong arm, wanting to feel his body on yours, his comfort surrounding you. “I can’t really fix it but I want you to know that, like, I feel it too? It hurts when they want me to do this week after week -”

“So quit!” Shawn yells. His arms explode out to his sides and he spins on his heel so the two of you are nose to nose. “Just quit, Y/N, it’s not hard.

“Have you forgotten that I pay half the rent?” You gesture around the apartment with an incredulous expression. Emotion sends your hands shaking, so you stuff them in the pocket of your sweatpants to seem more in-control.

He shakes his head and tugs at the ends of his hair. “You’re only paying half the rent because you want to - I’ve told you over and over again that I can take care of us if you just let me, Y/N. I want to take care of you.”

You cross your arms over your chest and stare down at your tapping foot. “I have a contract,” you mumble.

“That contract isn’t liable anymore if they treat you badly.”

“This isn’t La La Land, Shawn,” you spit, staring him dead in the face. “no one is going to give a fuck and they’ll ruin my career.” You grapple for your car keys, the ones you hope to God are still in your pocket, and wrap the lanyard around your wrist. “So grow up and open your eyes - this is Los Angeles, not fucking Canada. Contracts don’t mean shit when the media comes and knocks down our door with questions and allegations and all kinds of things I can’t deal with right now.” You open the door and feel the night air on your face. “And if you can’t understand that, then maybe we should take a break.”

The sound of the door slamming behind you is the only thing you recognize over the ringing in your ears.

The next day is rough.

Your makeup artist sends you worried glances as she adds more and more concealer under your eyes, trying to cover up the red that has resided there for the past five hours. You just smile, sad and sideways, as you let her paint you a happier face.

The fingers you’ve hidden under your thighs itch to dig in your bag for that phone you turned off, just to see if he cared enough to call. Even though the rational side of you is sure that he did, that he’s probably worrying out of his mind, this inkling of a thought in the back of your head is just enough to make you feel sick.

“Y/N,” one of the assistants says. You look at her in the mirror as your makeup artist continues to curl your hair, and you know then what she’s going to say next. “Shawn’s looking for you.”

You dig your (fake, recently painted) nails into your palms and tell her that you’ll “be right out,” but your hate of confrontation is telling you to find the nearest 1st story window to jump out of. Mary, the kind woman doing your hair, raises her eyebrows. “I can tell him to go away,” she offers.

“No, it’ll be fine.” You smile at her and let her finish the last couple strands of hair before rising and setting your jaw as you open the door.

You didn’t know what you were expecting, but Shawn standing directly in front of you definitely wasn’t it. You let out a surprised squeak. “Shawn,” you breathe, “you didn’t have to come here.”

He takes a look over your shoulder at Mary who is surely scowling at him before gently guiding you towards a more private corner of the set.

Now that he’s closer, his hand resting at the junction of your neck and your shoulder, you can see the bloodshot of his eyes and the blotchy of his cheeks, evidence of tears or anger or both. Mostly, what you see in front of you is a guilty man who’s come to apologize. “I…” he starts, playing with your fingers, “I was being naive. I forget sometimes how easy it was for me compared to how hard you worked for this job and me, I don’t know, I guess the need to take care of you and provide for you overcame me.” He lets you adjust the backward baseball cap on his head as he licks his lips nervously. “Because that’s all I really want to do, you know. Provide for you, make sure you’re okay and happy.”

“I know,” you say quietly.

“But I still don’t like Kerrie and want you to consider looking for another job once this season is over,” he implores.

“I figured.”

Shawn swallows and kisses you softly. “Sorry.”

You smile at him, close-lipped and tired, as you say “we’ll be okay.”

And for the first time in a while, you mean it.

#shawn mendes imagines #asks #angst

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